#he got shoved back into hell AND Sam got taken from him

[quietwingsinthesky]

I just think Sam should have missed Lucifer more post-s5. Cage torture an optional addition to the dynamic. What I needed was for Sam to be like 120% more obsessed over the fact that he was never going to be Lucifer’s vessel again and to be angry with himself that he could ever miss that and be unable to stop himself from still wanting it.

[apocalypseornaw]

What's Mine

Dean Winchester x Reader

You and Dean have been tiptoeing around each other for weeks until you run into your ex on a hunt and Dean makes it a point to let it be known he isn't giving up what's his..you

The breath was knocked out of you when your back hit the dirt, Dean's body on top of yours was a familiar weight and he'd somehow supported your head to keep your neck from slamming at a weird angle when the two of you landed.

“You ok?” He asked breathlessly and you managed a smile “Had worse” you felt the heat of the flame from the open grave hit your side and knew Sam had torched the bones. Good thing too that damn ghost had tossed you and Dean both like a frigging ragdoll.

“You two good?” Sam called out and Dean who was still currently on top of you smirked “Been in a lot worse positions” you rolled your eyes and shoved him in the chest “Shut up and get off me Winchester” he got to his feet and helped you to yours before grabbing his chest playfully “Oh come on sweetheart. You're killing me here. You know you want me”

You felt your face warm at his teasing. Did you want him? Hell yes, who wouldn't? Did you have no clue where he stood due to months of flirting, light touches and getting so comfortable with each other you regularly ended up in each other's beds if one of you had a bad night.

“Oh yes. Let me ravage you in the middle of this graveyard covered in dirt and ectoplasm” you shot back and he grinned “Oh I'd take ya anyway I could have ya” you rolled your eyes and walked over to the grave where Sam was already filling in the hole and picked up a shovel. Dean joined the two of you and in no time the grave was back covered.

You looked from Sam to Dean “I need a shower” you announced only to be met with Sam saying he needed food and Dean saying he needed a drink. You laughed “There's a bar not far from our hotel. Sign boasted the best wings as voted by some traveling foodie. Let's hit the showers then we can grab some food and a few drinks before we hit the hay”

Dean grinned “That's my girl” and Sam shook his head “You two need to get a room” Sam was sick of the little dance you and Dean were stuck in as much as you were but you refused to make the first move. You knew how Dean was when it came to commitment.

You'd known both brothers for years and had started hunting with them full time after Bobby died then moved into the bunker full time after your last breakup.Sam was your best friend. You loved them both and refused to let your feelings for Dean come between that. He'd eventually make his feelings known, wouldn't he?

You walked in the bar between Sam and Dean, feeling Dean's hand at your lower back. It was a habit he'd long since started doing. Whether it was when the three of you were on a hunt, you went to the grocery store with him or something as simple as walking in a bar. When you'd asked him about it hoping he'd use the opportunity to admit anything he'd instead told you that he just liked to keep a hand on you. Something about in public places it keeping any pervs from thinking about looking your way.

You tried to ignore the instinct to lean into his touch. Was it possible he didn't want you like you wanted him? Maybe he really did just see you as a good friend and you were reading too much into things.

—--------------

Dean felt your back tense under his hand as Sam cleared the way to a booth on the back wall. “You good sweetheart?” He asked, leaning down so you could hear him over the music. You nodded but didn't give a verbal response. He was sure he'd blocked your head from taking a blow but maybe your back or ribs had taken a hit you hadn't admitted to?

He'd make a point to ask you before all of you settled down for the night back at the hotel.

He watched as you sat down on one of the benches then looked between him and Sam “Who's going to the bar?” He raised his hand slightly “you want your usual?” You nodded “Yes please” when you gave him a small smile he felt one slip onto his face in return but didn't miss Sam rolling his eyes. His little brother had been on his ass for weeks. The last threat had been “If you don't make a move I'm gonna start hitting on her for you. It's pathetic man”

—-------------

After Sam had eaten an extraordinary amount of wings for his usual appetite and you and Dean had split an order of mozzarella sticks you had gotten up to go to the bathroom. Normally one or both of them would walk you and wait outside the door but this once you'd convinced them to let you go alone.

When you got back out of the bathroom you saw that both of them had gone to the bar so you headed that way. You were almost to them when you heard a voice call your name you froze dead in your tracks, you'd recognize that voice anywhere. Your ex boyfriend Dominic.

The same ex boyfriend who'd broken up with you because “Ain't no way you're not sleeping with one of the Winchesters. They've never made a habit of working with any other hunter with the exception of Bobby yet you're always welcome to join them”

You turned to see him walking towards you. He was a fairly good looking guy. He was about six foot, dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. You'd been hurt when he accused you but now there was a whole different level to that hurt considering it seemed the Winchester that you did now have feelings for would never want you.

“Hey Dom” you greeted with a smile. “How ya been?” He asked and you shrugged “You know the life, still breathing so I'd call it a win”

—------------

Sam knew you should be out of the bathroom by now. He had hoped Dean would use the night out to admit his feelings. He turned to look around for you and spotted you talking to someone, no not someone your ex. That was Dominic. This should be interesting.

He glanced at Dean, trying to consider if he wanted to do this or not but then he saw your shoulders tense and knew you well enough to know when you needed a rescue. “Isn't that Dom?” He asked if off handedly but Dean spun around fast enough a few people looked their way. “Yeah it is”

The muscle in Dean's jaw was clenched hard watching you talk to your ex and Sam knew it was now or never. “She doesn't look too comfortable. Maybe one of us should go over there?” He stood like he was going to but Dean grabbed his shoulder “Let me”

—-----------------

What had started off as friendly enough turned not so friendly the moment Dom noticed Sam and Dean at the bar “Which one is it?” “Which one is what?” You asked because you honestly had no idea what he meant. “Which Winchester are you fucking?”

Before you could open your mouth to respond you felt a strong set of arms slip around your waist and heard Dean's voice say “That would be me. Why? You got a problem with it?” You cut your eyes up at him so he used that moment to bring one hand up to cup your chin and when his lips met yours the entire bar could've caught fire for all you cared.

You'd thought of kissing Dean so many times, dreamt of it but good lord the real thing couldn't be described. He rolled his tongue against yours, exploring your mouth and letting you taste the bourbon he'd drank. His hand moved to the back of your head, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. You felt heat roll through your stomach as he pulled away from you leaving another light kiss on your lips before turning his eyes back to Dom.

“What was the issue of who she's with? Didn't you break up with her?” You could hear the venom in Dean's voice and felt his arms tighten around you protectively. This was new.

Dom shrugged “Yeah I broke up with her because I figured either you or your brother was fucking her” his eyes slid down to you then back up to Dean before he added “Or both of ya”

You felt Dean tense and knew you needed to diffuse the situation. Dom was strong, yeah but Dean was on an entire different level. He could easily kill him and not break a sweat. You gripped Dean's arms to stop him from moving “Baby,let's get Sammy and leave” you hoped you using a pet name for him that you normally wouldn't might get through his head.

He nodded “Yeah. Let's get back to the hotel” he slipped his arms from around you and grabbed your hand instead, lacing his fingers with yours. You took a few steps away and thought that was it, that Dom would use what brain cells he had and let it go. Instead he said “Does she still make that little sound right before she…”

He didn't get a chance to finish the sentence. Dean had dropped your hand and landed a solid punch before you could blink. Fuck. “SAM!” You shouted over the quickly growing crowd.

You didn't want to get close enough to get caught in the crosshair. Dean would be careful of you but add in enough drunks and adrenaline and accidents happen. “I got him” You heard Sam's voice before you saw him grab Dean's shoulder, ducking the thrown punch “C'mon he ain't worth it”

Dean looked up and met your gaze. You saw him take a deep breath then nod. “Yeah let's go” he reached for your hand and you gave it to him. Sam handed the nearest waitress a few twenties but by that time some drunks had helped Dom to his feet. He was holding his broken nose “So i was right. She's been fucking you”

You squeezed Dean's hand, silently begging him to not be baited. He pulled you into his side then turned to face Dom. “If I would've had her in my bed back then she would've kicked you to the curb long before you split and for the record she doesn't make any small noise with me” you felt your face warm when a chorus of “Ooohhs” went through the bar.

You spotted the bouncer headed in your direction and Dean must have too because he waved towards the door “I'm leaving. I'm leaving. This asshole needed to learn some manners”

The short ride to the motel had been in silence. You followed Sam into the room and headed for the door adjoining your room to theirs.

—-------------

You felt Dean grab your hand before you made it to the door “Can we talk?” You cut your eyes at Sam then nodded “Yeah. Come on” you walked into your room and waited until you heard Dean close the door to turn and face him.

“I'm sorry you were put in that position to have to defend me” You blurted out and he looked stunned for a minute then shook his head “I'm not. That guy's a fucking asshole. He never deserved you” you smiled slightly “Helluva punch and helluva kiss”

He smirked “I meant it” “The punch?” You asked and he rolled his eyes “The kiss you brat” you grinned “Oh really? What about the she doesn't make any small sound with me part?”

He pushed off the door, walking towards you with almost a predatory look. The same thing that made demons run the opposite direction had the ability to make your knees weak in the best way. “That sounds like you're doubting my abilities sweetheart?” You shrugged nonchalantly despite your heart pounding in your throat “Not like you've made a move to show me your abilities”

—--------------

He stopped just shy of touching you “Let me make myself clear if we do this that's it. You're mine, I'm yours. I don't want one night or just sex. I want all of you” “Good” you replied and that was all it took. He closed the space between you and if you thought the kiss in the bar was something it had nothing compared to the way his lips crashed against yours in a bruising, hungry kiss.

He backed you up to the bed and the moment the back of your legs hit it he eased you back on it, never breaking the kiss even as he hovered over you. Once the need for air forced you apart his lips moved across your jaw then down your neck “I've wanted you for so long” he spoke against your skin and you practically melted on the spot. “I'm yours Dean. I've been yours” you whispered and he groaned “Gonna be the death of me”

His hands gripped your shirt and before you could protest he ripped it right down the middle bearing your covered breasts to him. He bit down on one of them and when you moaned and arched your back he slipped his hands under you to relieve you of the bra as well, throwing it across the room. He looked down at you and the look in his eyes made your heart flip “You're so damn beautiful” he murmured before crashing his lips against yours again.

Your hands found his shirt so he broke the kiss long enough to slip it off and throw it, giving you access to his skin. Your hands smoothed over his chest, tracing the tattoo and small scars littered around it that even angelic healing didn't get rid of.

“I need more of you, please” he begged and you fucking whimpered hearing Dean Winchester sound that wrecked. “You have all of me Dean” you whispered and he left another searing kiss against your lips before moving down your body.

He slipped your boots off along with your jeans then panties leaving you bare to him before settling between your legs. He didn't give you time to adjust before his mouth found your core. The first lick was tentative, testing but when your hips bucked up into him he damn near growled before pinning your lower body down with one arm and diving in like a man starved.

—--------------

You were quivering under Dean. He'd already worked one orgasm out of you with his tongue alone and now had added two fingers into you as well. You were so close to that edge again and damn him he knew just what you needed. He turned his wrist to find that spot deep inside of you, running his fingertips over it as he sucked your clit into his mouth and you came again with a scream of his name on your lips.

Once you came down from that high you shoved weakly at his head “Please Dean, too much” he left one final kiss against your clit before leaning back to grin up at you “Worth the wait?” You nodded weakly “Please take your pants off and get up here”

He stood and slipped his boots, jeans and boxers off before crawling up your body, kissing and licking every inch of skin he could on the way up. When he crashed his lips against yours you could taste yourself on him and felt yourself clench especially when he moved to your neck to work your pulse point with his tongue and teeth.

“Dean, I will return the favor next time but please get inside me” He grinned against your skin “Yes ma'am” you felt the head of his cock teasing at your entrance and rolled your hips up towards him. He slid in slowly, a low moan leaving you both at the feeling of him stretching you.

Once you adjusted to his size you tapped his shoulder “You can move” he gave a thrust and when your hands went to his shoulders, nails digging in, he groaned “That's my girl” before setting a punishing pace.

—------------

You were folded damn near in half, your legs on Dean's shoulders as he pounded into you. You felt tears forming in the corner of your eyes from being pushed to that delicious line between pleasure and pain.

Your legs were shaking, your whole body felt like it was made of liquid. You'd never had this many orgasms fucked out of you and it seemed like he was aiming for one more before he let himself come. “Dean please. I can't take any more” you begged and he kissed your cheek “One more baby. Please. You've got one more for me”

His fingers slipped between you, rubbing tight circles on your clit and you felt that pressure burst again,your vision going soft from the pleasure coursing through you. His thrusts started getting uneven and you knew he was close. “Fuck Dean. You feel so damn amazing. Please come for me, fill me up” you sobbed, fucked senseless.

He groaned,burying his face in your neck as he gave one final hard thrust and you felt when he came deep inside of you.

—----------------

He slowly eased your legs down but stayed inside of you as you both worked to get your breathing back to normal. When he pulled out he apologized at the low whine you gave before going to grab a warm rag to clean you both up.

After he was sure you were cleaned up and didn't need anything else he climbed into bed next to you and pulled you over on his chest. “No regrets on wanting me?” He asked and you felt your heart jump at the uncertainty in his voice despite having just fucked you senseless. You leaned up to look up at him “Why? You already sick of me?” You teased and his eyes narrowed “Don't even woman”

You laughed lightly “I'm sure Dean. You're who I want” “Good, because I'd hate to have to kill anyone who tried to take you from me” you shook your head “Not happening Winchester. You're stuck with me” He pulled you back on his chest and left a kiss on your head before saying “I've been stuck in a lot worse positions than having you in my arms”

[morganwrites12672]

Toledo

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: While working a case in Toledo, Ohio the motel owners daughter catches Sam's eye.

Word Count: 1.2k

Rating: PG-13

A/N: I've been wanting to write this for a while and finally found the time to do so! Thanks to @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles for letting me rant about it!

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It was a chilly night in November. The door to the motels entry opened up. She was stuck working the night shift, something she had never liked. Most of the people who checked in this late made her uneasy. Unless they were a familiar face.

The boy who walked through the front door couldn't have been much older than 21. He was all messy hair and too long limbs. He had shaggy brown hair in desperate need of a little trim. His bangs had began growing over his eyes a bit.

She gave him a smile as he walked over to the small check in counter. She let her eyes roam over him for a moment before looking up at his face. She wondered why someone so young was checking into a motel. She didn't bother asking. It wasn't any of her business.

"Welcome to the Holiday Motel. How many nights will you be staying with us?" She asked. The motel name was ancient. It had originally been founded by her grandparents.

She had started working here over the summer or weekends growing up. Now that she had temporarily dropped out of college, she worked here most nights. . She told herself it was only a gap year before going back to college.

"A week," the boy replied. He awkwardly fidgeted before running a hand through his already messy hair. He looked around the office. There wasn't much to see.

She nodded, looking through available keys before picking one. "What's your name?" She asked as she set the key on the counter and told him the price.

The boy set a few bills on the counter before speaking. "Sam," he replied. It wasn't often that he gave people his real name. For some reason he had felt like being honest with her.

She handed him his change before giving him her name. She smiled to herself as she watched him leave. It wasn't often someone near her age booked a room.

Not that she was paying attention, but she watched him through the window as he left. He walked over to a dark colored Chevy Impala. There was another man waiting for him. The two men then walked away to the room.

She sighed. He was staying for a week. She had plenty of time to see him again. Maybe he would stop by sometime soon. Just in case he came by the office again, she would pick up a few extra hours. Just in case. Working a bit of overtime was worth getting to see him, even if it only happened once.

Even if she knew it would make her parents suspicious, it would be worth it. She wanted things to work out. She knew realistically she would probably only get to see Sam once or twice. And, that nothing would happen.

Most likely.

She liked to daydream though. A little bit of optimism never hurt anyone. It wouldn't hurt her to wish. Without a bit of imagination her life got boring. It wasn't like anything interesting ever happened in town.

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It didn't take long for her to see Sam again.

The sound of the door opening made her look up from the crossword puzzle she had been messing around with. She quickly closed the book upon seeing that it was Sam. She smiled at him, sitting up.

It had only been two days since she had last seen him. She had taken every single shift her parents were willing to give her. Anything to increase her chance of seeing Sam again.

He looked nervous as he walked over to the counter. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat before speaking, "Uh, hey."

"Hey," She replied. Her heart raced. She has no clue what the hell to say to him. She wasn't that great at these things. Just a tad bit too socially awkward for them. "Why are you in town?" She asked.

"Uh, I'm here with my brother. We, uh, we're with the Wildlife Preserve. Uh, investigating the animal attacks," Sam replied. A light blush crossed his cheeks. He didn't want to screw this up.

She tilted her head slightly, "Really?" She had thought that it was just some bear. That's what the police officers had told her when she had asked after going into town. The news about it was everywhere.

She tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear. She regretted having not styled it a bit. It splayed over her shoulders in strands. Nothing special. Maybe she should have anticipated this a little better.

"Yeah. . . we'll be in town for only a few more days," Sam said. He obviously couldn't tell her the truth. How would he explain that it wasn't a bear behind the deaths? How would he explain that it was a god-damn werewolf? He couldn't. That was the answer.

Lying was often the best option in his line of work.

"Have you noticed anything strange around town? Maybe someone strange?" Sam asked, he tried to be nonchalant. He knew it was such an odd question. Something that might make her suspicious.

Her brows furrowed an subtle frown tugged at her lips. Her mind wandered. Why would he ask a question like that? "No, I haven't. I mean, half of the people who stay here are a little strange. . ." She said, hoping to lighten the mood.

Nothing ever happened in this town. The bear attacks were the most concerning event in years. It was a small town. Everybody knew everybody. And, everybody got along. For the most part.

It was just like any other boring small town.

Everyone had went to the same highschool. Everyone seemed to know each other. If she was being honest with herself, it drove her fucking insane. She was tired of it. Working at her parents motel was the most interesting part of her day.

Things wouldn't change unless she made them.

She grabbed the little square of bright purple sticky notes setting on the counter and jotted down her number. She handed it to Sam with a blush. If he wanted to catch up later, he could call her. If he didn't then he could just throw away the little note.

Sam grabbed the purple sticky note with a small, embarrassed smile. He was glad that she had gathered the courage to make the first move. He sure as hell wouldn't have been able too.

"T-thanks. I'll have to call you sometime," He said. He hadn't been expecting any of this. Hell, he had thought that he was probably annoying her. Or, worse, she thought that he was some creep. The fact that she had just given him her number made his heart race with excitement.

She spoke again, "Um, I know you're here for work. But, maybe if she ever gets any downtime we could grab dinner together? Or maybe lunch?"

She felt so damn awkward asking him out. She had already given him her number. There was no need for her to try so hard. Yet, she couldn't help herself. She wanted to see him again soon. Plus, he could always say no if he didn't want to go out with her.

"That sounds nice," Sam replied.

The two agreed upon a day, time, and place to meet up. She had convinced him to try out her favorite little diner. It was a date.

As Sam left, he couldn't help the excitement coursing through his veins. He knew that Dean would think it's stupid. He wouldn't see her again after this well. Yet, as he held that little purple sticky note, he couldn't help but hope.

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading!

[rottingsins]

hi !! wincest fic idea :) cnc that turns into actual rape <3

tw: CNC, r4pe, inc3st

note: thought about writing this all day, thinking of furthering it some other day but this is what I came up with in about 30 minutes just now from the itch to write it <3 tell me what you think, would love your thoughts. (I am working on all other suggestions/prompts, dw you're not forgotten)

Sam's head was pushed down, air knocked out of his lungs as Dean's rough hands carded through his hair, fingers gripping in a tight hold to keep him there and yet he fought against the hold, desperately trying to climb up for air but his brother never let up.

"No-no, no, no-" He muffled into the pillow hand coming up to dig his nails into Dean's wrist who hissed in return, pulling him and pulling Sam's back to his chest.

"I told you I could've been more gentle if you were nicer, laying down like the whore you are. But no, no you want to fight back." His rough tone rang in Sam's ear and he was shoved down again, rough and mean.

He could hear the clink of the belt being taken off behind him, and it was like everything moved slowly, his hands clawing at the sheet as he attempted to move away but it was fruitless, truly. Dean was right behind, grabbing at the hands that tried their best to reach for freedom.

Sam may be bigger, taller but Dean was always stronger, able to round him up and move him how he pleased.

"Please, I'm sorry, please Dean, no-'' He cried out when his arm twisted behind his back. "No, please, I don't want to, Please-" the belt fastened around his wrist, tight enough to burn from the rough drag and dig of leather in his skin. And then Dean's hands were back onto him, rough and calloused as it pushed his front into the bed, other hand going to Sam's pants buttons, opening with haste, so easy - like Sam was free access to begin with.

And Dean treated him like that, pulling down his pants and boxers mid-thigh and he was exposed. It was embarrassing how his cock was red and throbbing between his legs, it was embarrassing how he whined when the cold air rushed to him. 

He was reacting so well - like a true whore, Dean had thought as he took the disappointingly average cock in hand, giving a few dry jerks just to hear his little brother cry, leg kick out. He was always too sensitive for his own good. But good god did it make Dean twitch in his own boxers.

Sam could kick and cry out all he wanted but he enjoyed this, he wanted it. It was their little game after all. Big mean older brother Dean taking advantage of his little brother Sam who wouldn't want to hurt Dean too much to even properly protect himself. He was just Dean's baby, his toy. Always was and always will be.

So it wasn't surprising when Sam's tip began to leak when Dean dragged his nails down Sam's back, watching the red marks leave in their absence. Maybe it was wrong, the things it did to him when he saw it. 

Dean pushed down his own pants and underwear just enough to slip out his cock, his slowly moved his hand from the middle of Sam's his ass, and just as he reached his ass, pulling his cheek to the side enough to get him a view of his hole, and that really got Sam to start a kicking mess again. And just as the first kick went out, little "no's" coming from his lips, Dean's hand landed harshly against the skin of ass, a red blooming under his palm and skin heating up.

But he didn't stop at one, he did it again, and again until all Sam was cry a couple of tears and finally stopped fighting against him, shaking legs giving up the hell they were raising.

Sam could feel the ache of his ass and it made his cock pulse, so close to the edge. But the pain wasn't over, a few little "no, no's" passed his lips before there was the feeling of a wet and blunt tip against his hole and he gasped, legs seizing - he was frozen, and scared and Dean was pushing in, liquid hot fire flooded his veins as the ache ran up his spine the further he forced his way in.

It wasn't right, something was wrong- it was never like this before, he couldn't explain it but he couldn't speak, the hands tied behind his back were tapping against Dean's abdomen, in the three tap pattern Dean swore he'd notice and stop at - that the play was over. Sam was gasping desperately for the little air he had to fill his lungs because he just couldn't breathe.

Dean was pulling out, and Sam waited and waited for the coo's and care that was to come but it didn't - "Awe, you're bleeding baby." he pushed back in and again and again - he wasn't stopping, not like he promised.

The pain was too much, like a never ending fire. Sam fought against the restraint, pulling desperately at them to get his hands free, to crawl and fight away. But the belt simply rubbed his wrist raw and he sobbed an honest sob. His throat was raw from it alone, dry and sore. He cried out for his brother, wanting his aid and not his pain.

"-hurt's, it hurts, hurt's, Dean, angh-" The air rushed out of him just as it had come. He couldn't remember what he was meant to say, couldn't remember the safe word.

Why didn't he stop when he tapped? Why did he keep going?

He tried tapping again, pressing against Dean's abdomen as it came again and again. Impaling him so deep it was all he could feel, all he could think about - about how much it hurt. How wrong, wrong, wrong it was. His thighs were shaking and they were aching. The only thing keeping them up was the death grip of Dean's hands on his hips.

Sam feverishly shook his head in the pillow, tears falling one after the other. 

But it was like Dean was too caught up in the way Sam wrapped around him, sucking him in further - tighter than usual and it was just too good to stop, not when the tears and panic of Sam's shaking added to the pleasure coursing through his veins.

He would take what he wanted, he always would and will. So that's what he was doing. One hand grabbing onto the belt of the restricted hands and going deeper, drilling in until he truly couldn't go any further, pulling him to meet his hips in each thrust to hear the guttural groan that fell from his baby brother's lips.

To say he was obsessed with Sam's ass was an understatement, he was addicted. The little sobs and babble of words fueled him on. Only he could do this to Sam, no one else could have him, make him into the mess he is. He owned Sam.

At some point, Sam's struggles and fighting began to cease, just laying limp. He had no fight left in him, choking on his own tears with groans climbing up his throat. There was never a spark of pleasure, it was like someone was ripping apart his insides. The zipper of Dean's jeans digging into his skin with every thrust, he wouldn't be surprised if he was bleeding from it alone. The raw rubbing of cloth against the back of his thighs was bordering painful.

He waited, waited after every thrust, every groan from Dean that he would stop, that this would be the last, that he would pull out and acknowledge him, apologize, anything, he'd accept anything if he would just stop.

But it didn't, it dragged for what felt like hours. He didn't even notice when Dean was done, filling him up raw with his cum, groaning "fuck" mindlessly as his hips stuttered inside of him. The white mess leaked out of him, mixing with the blood to create a pink as it dribbled down his thighs.

And he's never felt so numb, so used, so discarded as Dean simply pulled up his jeans like it was just another night. Like he didn't care.

But, like a kicked puppy, Sam called out for him in a rough and broken voice. "De-an." 

After all, Dean was all he had. All he wanted. All he needed.

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

photographs (part 2)

part one (definitely not “required” to read first part before this one, but it makes more sense to read part one, then this part)

masterlist

summary: when dean disappears after killing dick, you’re glad you took so many photos.

paring: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 3.0k

warnings: dean is (temporarily) dead, memories/photos with - implied sex/nudity, lots of fluff cloaked in angst cause dean’s dead

author’s note: inspired by a comment i received on part one (quick explanation here).

dean was dead. again. your heart ached. well, everything ached. your head ached cause you hadn’t slept in days, your stomach ached cause you hadn’t fed it anything but caffeinated drinks and whiskey for days, and, above all, your shattered heart made your chest physically ache. everything in you was telling you to sit down, eat a meal, and get some sleep; but you couldn’t, you wouldn’t. all that mattered to you now was getting dean back.

the days after losing him you stole a car (sam took the impala, which you were fine with) and drove for hours, stopping at different storage lockers to gather up the usb sticks with all the photos and videos you had taken on the cameras since dean went to hell. the physical photo albums had burned up at bobby’s place so you thanked your lucky stars you had been paranoid enough to make copies and leave them in separate places.

there were a lot of videos, and even more photos. god, were you glad you had shoved the stuipid camera in dean’s face and that he had willingly taken it from you to snap pictures of his own.

you sat in the dingy motel room; your laptop on the table in front of you and a bottle of whiskey beside you. you didn’t even really ever like whiskey, not until you fell in love with dean. he often tasted like whiskey when you’d kiss him so now the bitter (and, in this instance, cheap) drink reminded you of him.

tears filled your eyes as you clicked through the photos. you let out quiet sobs between sips of whiskey until you got to the first video on the usb you were going through.

“y/n, get your gorgeous ass out here,” dean exclaimed from behind the camera.

“give me another minute!” you called back. dean sighed dramatically and turned the camera around.

“y/n and i are on a case and we’re pretty sure the vamps are gonna be at this fancy party in town,” he explained. he leaned closer to the camera and whispered, “i honestly have no idea if they’re gonna be there but y/n suggested it and she looks smoking hot in-”

“okay i’m ready,” you stepped out of the bathroom. dean’s face lit up then he turned the camera around.

“wow, wow, wow,” he walked up to you. “you look incredible, sweetheart” he took your face in his hand and kissed you, angling the camera so it captured the moment.

“you don’t look too bad yourself,” you smiled up at him and ran your fingers over his tie. you gripped it and pulled him down for another kiss.

“mmh,” he hummed through his smile as he kissed you back. “you know this dress would definitely look better on the floor,” he whispered.

“oh and it definitely will be on the floor the second we get back here,” you replied. “c’mon,” you stepped away from him and grabbed your purse, “let’s go kill some vampires!”

you smiled to yourself. as much as you missed him, you couldn’t help the happy feeling bubbling up as you remembered what it was like to be held by him.

“put the damn camera down and kiss me already!” dean huffed dramatically.

“you’re so cute right now, though!” you giggled, snapping another picture.

“i look the same as i did yesterday, honey!”

“exactly!” you put the camera down and he kissed you. “you always look so perfect,” you whispered.

“have you seen you?!” he teased.

you reached your hands up so you could mess with his hair. your expression changed.

“oh god,” you practically gagged.

“what’s wrong?”

“there’s definitely ghoul brains in your hair still,” you retracted your hands. “get in the shower,” you laughed, pushing him toward the motel bathroom.

“only if you come with me,” he smirked.

your phone rang and you furrowed your brows as you answered; “garth?”

“hey, are you still in wichita? i’ve got a hunter friend over there who needs some help and i’m at least two days away.”

“yeah, i am garth, but-”

“please, y/n? i don’t know that many hunters and i’m kinda worried about her,” he asked, you could hear the desperation in his voice which was very out of character for him.

“of course, garth. send me the details and i’ll get in contact with her,” you smiled. dean would want me to help, you thought to yourself.

“thanks.”

**

you tiptoed over to where dean was half asleep.

“dean honey, wake up,” you whispered while stroking his messy hair. “breakfast is ready.”

“you’re too good to me sweetheart, he smiled and sat up; giving your cheek a kiss.

“happy birthday, dean,” you handed him the plate of freshly cooked bacon and a slice of pie. he sat up and began eating it, you sat down on the edge of the bed.

“this is perfect honey, thank you,” he smiled like a kid on christmas. “c’mere,” he pulled you into a quick kiss, you could taste the bacon grease still on his lips and you’ve gotta admit, you’re a damn good cook.

“i got you a present, too,” you giggled a little and stood up to get it off the counter. “well, two actually - one’s kind of a gag gift and one’s a real gift.”

he set the plate down on the bedside table and took the gift-wrapped boxes from you. he opened the smaller one first.

“hell yeah,” he laughed, holding up the gift. “condoms! we are definitely using these right away!”

“yeah, thought you’d appreciate those,” you teased.

he opened the next one; “a mini pie maker?”

“yeah, i figured it’d be handy to have-” he cut you off by kissing you and holding your face in his hands.

“god, i fucking love you,” he said between kisses. “you are the sweetest,” he kissed you again, “most beautiful,” and again, “most perfect woman in the universe.” you laughed, trying to catch your breath.

“i love you too,” you said.

“wanna use those condoms now?” he wiggled his brows suggestively.

“eat your breakfast first, before the bacon gets cold. i asked sam to text me when he’s ten minutes away so we’ve got plenty of time.” you gave him a kiss on the forehead and stood up. you took the pie maker and put it on the counter as dean finished his breakfast. “smile, birthday boy!” you snapped a couple pictures.

“hey you alright?” janet (garth’s hunter friend) asked from the passenger seat of your car.

“yeah, just.. it’s nothing,” you shook your head with a smile and flipped the visor back up so you couldn’t see the pictures of dean. “i lost someone a week ago. it’s still pretty raw.”

“i’m sorry,” she smiled sadly. “what was his name?” she asked; she had seen you looking at the pictures.

“uh, dean,” you replied. “dean winchester.”

“the dean win- sorry-” she caught herself. “uh, what was he like?”

“the best,” you whispered. “he was the sweetest man. he was so good to me and i- i just love him so much and- and i miss him like crazy.” you wiped your tears away quickly. “sorry, here i am spilling my guts when i just met you.”

“hey it’s thanks to you i didn’t literally spill my guts back there, if you wanna talk i’m here for you.”

**

“garth! got another case for me?” you asked through the phone. it had been six months since you lost dean and you never stopped hunting. you truly believed if you stopped you’d go crazy alone with your thoughts.

“yep, four bodies missing their hearts a few miles from where you are,” he replied. “you doing okay?”

“yep i’m great,” you lied.

“i know your lying, but you know i’m here if you need to talk, right?”

“yeah, i know garth, thank you,” you replied. “send me the details for the case please.” you hung up.

“c’mon take the picture already, i’m starving!” dean grumbled. you had made dinner for the brothers and bobby and it looked delicious.

“cheese!” you said and snapped a few pictures of the three of them at the table. “okay, let’s eat!” you sat down next to dean; across from sam, who sat to the left of bobby.

“why do people say ‘cheese’ when they take a picture?” dean wondered out loud.

“maybe cause people like cheese?” you shrugged and put some steak next to the baked potato on your plate.

“well then what about lactose intolerant people?” sam chipped in.

“good point; maybe it’s a guys name? like the first person to take a picture? maybe their last name was cheese,” you suggested.

“oh, that actually makes sense,” dean nodded.

“are you idjits really having this conversation?” bobby exclaimed. “saying ‘cheese’ has nothing to do with actual cheese, or some photographer; it’s just that saying the word ‘cheese’ forces you to smile!” he shook his head as you and the brothers nodded.

“then why not say ‘freeze’?” you continued, at this point just teasing bobby.

“or ‘please’?” dean added.

“or-” sam started but bobby cut him off.

“just shut up and eat,” he rolled his eyes and couldn’t help but laugh a little.

you turned off your phone, not wanting to stare at the lockscreen any longer.

**

nine months. nine whole months. dean was still dead. hunting wasn’t the same anymore, it didn’t distract you at all. you’d be mid-kill and all the monster had to do was mutter dean’s name for you to freeze up. lucky for you, garth always made sure there was another hunter on any case he told you about; so, they would end up killing the monster before it killed you.

you sat alone at the bar, the other hunter you had just finished a case with was already on his way to another case across the state. but you had decided you needed to take a break from hunting and find another distraction.

that’s when you saw him; a man three stools down from you, wearing a red flannel almost identical to dean’s. his hair was the same color as dean’s, and when he turned to smile at you, you were met with piercing green eyes. your heart leapt to your throat. he didn’t really look at all like dean, but he had many similar feature - wispy lashes, freckles, and bow legs which you noticed as he walked up to you.

“evening pretty lady,” he smiled and leaned on the counter next to you. “that sounded much better in my head,” he laughed, which caused you to do the same.

“sounded okay,” you replied. “i’m y/n.”

“don,” he replied, you practically spat out your drink. “noticed you checking me out earlier.”

“maybe i was,” you bit your bottom lip a little. “why, you interested?”

“oh yeah,” he nodded, not letting his cocky smile leave his lips.

you brought him closer by gripping the collar of his flannel. you kissed him and he wrapped his arms around your waist, the taste of whiskey hitting your tongue. but something felt off, you felt guilty. you figured you had good reason to be; you only felt somewhat attracted to the guy and what little attraction there was, was only because he reminded you of dean. your perfect dean. the only man you ever loved. the only man you ever really had eyes for. the man that was stuck in purgatory right now (crowley had told you after you summoned him) while you were making out with a stranger.

“actually,” you pulled away. “sorry, i don’t wanna do this,” you smiled awkwardly and pushed the man away.

“oh c’mon, baby, it’s no big deal,” he shook his head and went in for another kiss. you pushed him away again, harder this time so he was now a few feet away from where you sat.

“sorry,” you stood up. “goodnight,” you smiled again and began to walk away.

“don’t be a tease,” he laughed and pulled your arm. you turned around and smirked a little.

“let go,” you said, he didn’t. “look, you really don’t want to get me mad, i’m having a bad week already.”

“what’re you gonna do, hit me?”

“of course not,” you smiled sweetly and stared him down. you then gripped his arm, pulled it off you, turned around and kneed him right in the balls. you gripped his collar again and made him look up at you while he crouched down. you punched the side of his face then walked away. after about four steps you remembered something and walked back. you finished your whiskey then left a fifty on the counter, making eye contact with the bartender so she knew you were leaving.

**

“i’m going off grid garth, i need to look for dean,” you told him through the phone as you drove to rufus’ cabin nearby. “if you need to contact me i’m only keeping this phone charged.”

“okay,” he sighed. “just let me know if you need any help ever, okay? don’t hesitate to call.”

“thank you garth,” you replied. “you’ve been great these past months. i’ll let you know when i get him back.” you then both hung up.

**

dean wrapped his arms around you and made eye contact with you through the mirror in front of you.

“you’re so pretty,” he smiled tiredly and kissed your collarbone. “so fuckin’ pretty.”

you stood in the bathroom in a bra and panties as you tried to keep brushing your teeth.

“can we go to bed already?” he whined. you bent over and spit out the toothpaste, dean groaning when your butt brushed against him. “oh come on sweetheart.”

“yeah let’s head to bed,” you leaned against his back as his grip around you tightened.

“i love you so much, you know that?” he mumbled against your neck.

“i know,” you smiled. “i love you so much, too. do you know that?”

“yeah,” he kissed you again.

“c’mon let’s head to bed,” you turned to go but he stopped you.

“wait,” he picked up the polaroid from the bathroom counter and handed it to you. you both smiled at the mirror and you took the picture; his arms wrapped around your belly and his chin on your shoulder. “okay, let’s go.” he smiled and you put the camera down.

you weren’t sure how the polaroid ended up at the cabin, but you assumed it had been in dean’s wallet when he broke his leg and the four of you had to stay here for a while.

**

one year. it was actually the one year anniversary of the day you watched an exploding dick make dean and cas vanish. you still remember how you had stepped forward to help them and sam had pulled you back, muttering something about it not being safe. you hadn’t seen sam since but you understood why; seeing him only reminded you of dean, so you assumed him seeing you reminded him about his brother.

“i don’t understand the point of this,” cas furrowed his brows and stared at the camera.

“memories, cas; don’t you wanna have pictures to look back on years from now?” you smiled back.

“i have a perfect memory, i don’t need pictures,” he replied.

“of course you do,” you rolled your eyes playfully with a laugh. “point is; you look at the camera and smile.”

“of course,” he nodded, still not fully understanding the point.

you finished setting up the camera on the bookshelf which you were using as a makeshift tripod and set the timer. you posed with castiel; your left arm around his torso and his right draped over your shoulder. the flash went off, indicating the picture had been taken.

“all done! when sam and dean get back with the food, we can take a couple more.”

**

“hey garth, everything okay?” you answered the phone.

“yeah, i just got a weird call from sam asking where you were - i didn’t give him your exact location just said you were at a cabin of rufus’ and gave him your number, that okay?”

“yeah, that’s fine garth thank you.”

**

“what the fuck, sammy!” you shouted when you heard him come bursting through the door. you got off the couch and hurried to the other room. “you could’ve fucking knocked!” you stopped in your tracks. there he was; dean winchester. “dean?”

“y/n?”

“are you a leviathan?”

“no, are you?”

“no, but neither of us can be sure, right?”

“right.”

“borax is under the sink.”

“holy water?”

“there’s a devil’s trap above you.”

you both paused for a second before he stepped out of said trap then you ran towards him and embraced him.

“god i missed you,” you exclaimed.

“i missed you too,” he replied, hugging you tightly. “as much as i don’t want to stop holding you, we really should run through the usual tests, sweetheart.”

“right, right,” you stepped back. “uh devil’s trap,” you said as you walked under it then back out. “borax,” you continued and walked over to the sink then poured some on your hand, closed the bottle, and tossed it to dean before he poured some on himself. “this is pure silver,” you handed him your knife then he handed you his. you both drew blood with the silver knife then dropped them and went back to hugging.

“don’t you ever do that again,” you mumbled into his chest. “you die again i’m gonna fucking murder you, you hear me?”

“yeah i hear you,” he laughed quietly against the crown of your head. “you didn’t spend this whole year alone, did you?”

“no; i spent nine months buried in cases, working on your case the whole time then..” you trailed off a little and looked up at him. “i kissed a guy that looked like you, hated it, and isolated myself in here so i could spend more time trying to get you out of purgatory.”

“you kissed a guy that looked like me?” he smirked a little.

“i also kicked him in the balls and punched his face,” you replied, smiling widely.

“that’s my girl,” he bent down and kissed you.

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch ~ Dean Winchester × fem! reader

Description: The Woman in White, also known as Constance, has Sam and Y/N trapped in the Impala…

(continuation of the first chapter)

Warnings: cannon violence, witch craft, arguing, curse words, injury, blood mention (i think), minor car crash, death, corpse, fire, everything written is fiction and should not be taken seriously

word count: around 1,765

The Woman in White~ Continuation

(Masterlist/ Previous Chapter/ Next Chapter)

“Take me home!” The brunette ghost yells

“No.” Sam replies.

“What the hell do you mean no!! Should you really be arguing with a murderous ghost!” I cried at Sam turning towards him.

The doors lock and I know it wasn’t Sam’s doing as he frantically pulls at the handle, then the gas pedal is pressed down and we’re moving fast. I start pulling on the handle as Sam tries to take hold of the steering wheel, but Constance has control over the full car.

I grab hold of Sam’s forearm trying to teleport us just outside of the car but something about Constance’s control and my fear get in the way and I can’t do anything.

I let go of his arm to hold tightly to the door handle apologizing, “I'm sorry Sam I cant do anything.”

He nods his head, fear probably taking over him too, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel.

The car pulls up in front of Constance's abandoned house. The engine shuts off and so do the lights.

“Don't do this.” Sam pleads looking at the woman through the rear view mirror.

Constance flickers, her voice sounding sad as she says, “I can never go home.”

“Aw, honey, you’re scared to go home” I responded sympathetically, turning around in my seat to face her.

But when I turn to face her she isn’t there. I whip my head towards Sam seeing him being shoved against the seat with Constance on his lap, the seat reclining as he struggles.

“Hold me. I’m so cold” she pleads.

“I take back my ‘aw’!” I panic-scream. Not knowing how to help Sam, I continue to pull on the door handle.

“You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!” Sam tells her while he continues to struggle.

“You will be. Just hold me.” Constance murmurs leaning down to kiss Sam, I see him reach for the keys so I try to aid him by unbuckling myself and leaning over and turning them but Constance pulls away from Sam catching my jaw with one hand just as my fingers graze the keys.

With the position I'm in, in a half lean, Constance is higher up than me. Her grip on my jaw is tight, forcing my eyes to look up at her through my eyelashes.

She peers down at me, still on Sam’s lap, before smiling innocently and shoving me hard backwards causing me to hit my head against the door.

She disappears and I find that she's got me pinned, I can’t move. I huff in distraction as Sam yells in pain, throwing off his hoodie to reveal burn marks that went through the fabric of his shirt.

Then suddenly she’s on his lap again this time putting her hand through his chest causing him to yell in pain again while all I can do is watch, pinned.

I feel useless.

A loud gunshot rings through the air, shattering the window near Sam effectively startling the ghost. Her head snaps towards where the shot came from revealing Dean adorned with a shotgun.

He fires again causing her to vanish, reappearing somewhere outside, Dean keeps firing until she finally disappears.

“I'm taking you home.” Sam says cooly, starting the car and driving forward.

“W-wait! Sam I still can’t-“ But my stammering got cut off as we crashed into the old house, the front of the car fully in the wreckage.

It’s only a mere second before we crash that I get my mobility back meaning I got the full experience, my head slamming on the side of the dashboard on impact. I sit up shaking as I reach a hand up to my forehead, pulling my hand back a bit I see some blood.

My door opens then, Dean leaning down to view us better “Y/N! Sam! You okay?”

I groan as I nod my head slowly, the mere motion causing another wave of pain rushing through my head. I climb out of the car with some assistance from Dean as Sam answers him with a weak, “I think…”

Once I'm out I move away slightly so that Dena can check on Sam, “Can you move?” Dean asks him.

“Yeah. Help me?” Sam responds, Dean leaning through the passenger seat to give Sam a hand, helping him out of the car.

“There you go.” Dean spoke, closing the door behind Sam.

We look around a little until we see Constance glaring at us as she throws a large picture straight at us.

Despite my headache and injury I throw my hands forward a white energy blast rushing through them throwing the painting back and away from hitting us.

But while I was busy with that, an old desk scoots toward us pinning us against the car. The lights flicker as Constance looks around scared, water being to put down the staircase.

She goes over. At the top a Boy and Girl stand, who I recognize as her children from pictures in articles.

They speak in unison, “You've come home to us, Mommy.”

Constance looks at them, distraught. Suddenly they're behind her, embracing her tightly causing her to scream as her image flickers. In a surge of energy, still screaming, Constance and the two kids melt into a puddle on the floor.

The boys shove the old desk off of us, walking towards the puddle.

“That wasn’t terrifying at all” I announced, rubbing my head once more.

“Yeah,” Sam sighs.

“…So this is where she drowned her kids.” Dean informs

“That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them.” Sam added.

“I feel bad for her in a way” I frown

“Yeah well her murdering needed to be stopped…

Nice work Sammy, You found her weak spot.”

Dean says slapping Sam on the chest where he's been injured before walking away.

Sam laughs, “Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?”

“Hey. Saved your ass.” Dean calls back as he leaned over his car, “I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car?” He turns before continuing, “I'll kill you.”

Sam laughs, and I'm sure it hurts him to do so as he slightly clutches his shirt.

“Hey Sam, if you want I can heal you” I offer

“It’s okay Y/N, the promise doesn't apply here” He answers giving me a sweet smile.

The promise.

I made it on the night of my thirteenth birthday, the night the rest of my powers manifested (not to say that other abilities can’t manifest as a Witch ages).

I made many promises that night, one of them being that I would never use my ability to heal any of my own injuries unless absolutely necessary and if it’s life threatening. It was a way to make me feel less “monster” like.

And within that promise came that I wouldn't use certain abilities on others unless absolutely necessary or they asked me.

So I respected Sam’s wishes when he said this time didn’t call for it, and I didn’t heal myself even though my head was killing me.

The Impala tears down the highway, Dean driving once more. Luckily the car wasn’t totally damaged, minus the right headlight that’s out.

Sam’s back in the passenger seat, his dads journal open to the coordinates that Dean had found along with a map, his only source of light being a little flashlight.

And I'm in the back curled up with a blanket I had brought, downing an Advil and some water. (Shoes off, of course, because Dean would beat someone up if his car got dirty)

“Okay, here's where Dad went. It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado.” Sam announces.

Dean nods, “Sounds charming. How far?”

“About six hundred miles” Sam answers.

“Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning.” Dean offers.

“Dean, I, um…” Sam hesitates.

“You're not going.” Dean confirms.

I put my water bottle down slowly, watching the both of them.

“The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there.” Sam explains

Dean nods, and I know he’s disappointed, but he returns his attention back to the road.

“Yeah. Yeah, whatever.” He glances back at Sam “I'll take you home.”

A smile creeps on my face, as stupid as it sounds I’m proud of Dean. I’m proud of both my boys.

We pull up in front of the apartment, Deans still frowning.

Sam gets out and leans over to look through the window, “Call me if you find him?”

Dean nods.

“And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?” Sam offers.

“Yeah, all right.” Dean answers, clearly upset. I don’t think this has to do with hunting anymore; he just misses his brother.

Sam pats the car door twice and turns away. Dean leans toward the passenger door, one arm going over the back of the seat.

“Sam?” He calls out, getting Sam to turn back

“You know, we all made a hell of a team back there.” He offered.

“Yeah.”

As Dean drives off I call out, “Good luck, Sammy!”

He smiles back.

Barely two minutes go by before Dean makes a harsh U-turn, he must have known what I was going to ask because he shows me his wrist.

The watch adorning it, stopped ticking, and sure it could be a coincidence but in our line of work it rarely is.

A million thoughts of worry run through my head as we pull up to the apartment once more.

Dean all but jumps out of the car and I follow only a step behind him

He kicks open the front door yelling out for Sam.

We follow his voice to the bedroom, looking up to see Jess.

Pinned to the ceiling, on fire and bloody.

I feel like throwing up.

It’s exactly what happened to their mother, from what I've heard.

“No! No!” Sam yells out in agony, i’ve never heard him sound like that before.

Dean grabs Sam off the bed and shoves him out the door, Sam struggling all the way screaming “Jess! Jess! No!”

Flames engulf the apartment, and for the second time that night I feel useless.

All this power and when someone needs help the most I can't do anything.

Fire trucks and police men came, parked outside the building. But we were back near the Impala.

No one’s said anything

Sam stands near the trunk of the car pulling out and loading a shotgun, face in pure pain.

He looks up at me and then Dean. He sighs, nods and throws the gun back in the trunk.

As he shuts the trunk he says, “We got work to do.”

[eridanidreams]

Snippet Sundae Falls On A Monday This Week

tagging: @bearlytolerant, @silurisanguine, @aro-pancake, @fangbangerghoul, @atonalginger, @aislingdmdt, @fshenkoescape, @ninjaofnaps, @lisa-and-shadow, @a-cosmic-elf, @thatsgoodsquishy0, @hockeydemon42, @fomagranfalloon, @violenceandviolets, @therealgchu, @staticpallour, @artemis-crimson, @genesisarclite and @constellation2330

from the upcoming chapter of stars through my fingers like grains of sand

Cait took another drink, then let out a sigh. "Just your arm candy, Sam?" Ah, so that had gotten to her. Her eyes narrowed in thought. "Jade recognized you."

"You noticed that, too?" Sam wasn't real happy about the way his past kept cropping up, but he had to admit, that at the moment, it could be very useful.

Cait blew out a hard breath. "It's not too late for me to bring Andreja in." She toyed with the bottle in her hands. "This—You've been with me this whole case, and I—I can't help thinking that we've blown through that line where you needed to stop. Because—" she faltered, and he wrapped one of her hands in his.

"Because I love you?" he asked, and watched her cheeks flush. "Not going to lie, that does make a difference. But—" he held up his other hand to forestall her protest "—that's not the only thing." He took a deep breath. "Lillian had a… tendency… to leave me behind. Not intentionally, but she'd get the bit in her teeth and I'd be scrambling to keep up. If you needed her help, she was absolutely reliable, but she wasn't going to slow down for her partners. And… there were times I felt she didn't have my back." Which had bled over into parenting—but that was neither here nor there. He gave Cait's hand a squeeze, then let it go and shoved the basket of fried nuggets toward her. "Eat. You've got that look on you." She gave him a faintly exasperated look, but started in on the food. "Anyway—you're the exact opposite of that. You've taken bullets for me, love. And you're always keeping tabs on how I feel about things. And—hell. I told you there were things I liked about being a Ranger, right? It wasn't all bad. Wasn't much for bringing a boot down on people who just made a mistake trying to get by, but stopping the real bad guys was a genuine pleasure."

Cait swallowed. "If you're trying to tell me something, just spit it out," she grumbled. "Your nerves are jumping around like water on a hot radiator."

Sam sighed. "Daniel asked me to come back so you'd have a Ranger partnered with you." Her brows furrowed in a thunderous scowl; before she got to the point of exploding, he added, "Has to do with something you told him?" He watched the anger bleed into embarrassment. "And that he just doesn't have anyone else he can send with you."

She sent an exasperated glance skyward. "Everyone's on him because there aren't enough Rangers to go around."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Some of that animosity toward me? It's deserved. I damn well knew there weren't enough hands to do the job and I still walked away."

"Because the job was eating you alive!" she snapped. "And because Cora needed a real parent, not someone whose first dedication is to the job!"

Sam grimaced, conceding the point. "That's all true," he agreed, "but things have changed. Cora's older now, able to understand the importance of what we do. And we've got a pretty good support system going now that'll keep her as safe as possible. And I'd be your partner, watching your back. No one else's. Daniel was clear on that. Which… is what I'm already doing."

"It's the principle of the thing," Cait seethed. "I promised you, Sam."

"You did," he acknowledged. "You weren't the one who asked. And Daniel has a good point." He stole one of her fried meat nuggets and regretted it as soon as he bit into it. He managed to choke it down, washing the aftertaste away with the last of his beer. "Jesus. What the hell are those things made of?"

The glints of color in her eyes shifted from mauve to blue. "Mauler." At his grimace of revulsion, she added wickedly, "'Eat them before they eat you', wasn't it?"

He shook his head wryly, glad to see her good humor peeking through. "It does beat raw ashta, I'll give it that. —Cait, I'm not a kid anymore. And this isn't a snap decision; I've been thinking it over for a good week. Pros and cons both. Was thinking of making it a trial period, see if it works out. If it doesn't…" he shrugged. "We'll figure it out. But for now, it's a situation I can live with." He gave her a lopsided grin as an old, old tagline came to mind. "Search my feelings. You know it to be true." Cait burst into laughter as he leaned back in his chair, feeling smug. God, he loved that sound.

[starlitangels]

(Still) Not a Tank

A little race/role swap AU for Sam and Darlin’. There’s a lot more to explore in this AU. No promises for a Part 2 but it might be fun... 3.4k words

—

“See ya tomorrow, Audrey Jane!” Sam called as he shoved open the door to the healer’s clinic, keys already in his hand.

“See ya, Sam!” Audrey Jane called back.

Whistling, Sam unlocked his truck and climbed up into it. He turned over the engine and shut the radio off. It had been a long day and Dahlia’s Top 40 was the last thing he wanted to get jammed into his brain. Music was nice in the morning to help him wake up, but after the long day, he didn’t want anymore.

Despite the day being long, it had also been slow and boring. Not a lot of healing to do, but that was partially because his class had taken a lot of burden off the clinic staff in order to get their practical, hands-on experience.

The nice thing about clinic life was the hours. Three twelve-and-a-half-hour shifts per week with four days off, and he skipped rush hour. Which meant it took him twenty minutes to drive home instead of an hour. Twenty minutes during which he decompressed from the stress of the day.

After parking in his garage, Sam pulled out a container from the meal prep he’d done yesterday, reheated it, and ate quickly. He was hungry—having not eaten since about two and it was half-past nine.

Once he ate, he moved to go upstairs to shower, but froze. His house’s property bordered the woods. Wildlife sounds weren’t uncommon.

The snarling he heard was not wildlife. It didn’t sound like shifters getting in a tussle either.

Completely unable to ignore the concern that sprang up in his chest, he shoved into his boots and ran out the backdoor.

Maybe for some people, one person running headlong into the woods would seem dangerous and reckless. But Sam was a Freelancer—and a strong one, as far as Freelancers went. He wasn’t scared of wildlife—and he sure as hell wasn’t scared of other empowereds.

He followed the sounds of violence deeper into the trees, noticing scuffs in the hard-packed earth and broken bushes and branches all along the way. Whatever was tangling, they were both big and both really strong. There were no whines of pain like an animal or a shifter would make, and Sam could sense the subtlest echoes of magic. He had one guess.

Vampires.

There came several cries of pain from up ahead, and then the telltale Zip of vampires taking off at top speed. A moment after the Zips faded, Sam heard a thud.

He kept going. Heavy breathing met his ears the closer he got. He swung around a tree trunk—

And there was a person, lying in the dirt. Technically lying on their side, but tilted dangerously steep like they were going to fall on their face. Their aura was subdued when his magic reached out to sense it. But he’d recognize a vampire’s aura anyway.

He rushed over. They were covered in blood. A decent chunk of it their own. If the gashes in their skin were anything to go by.

He knew vampires regenerated quickly. Healing magic could kickstart the process, but usually they didn’t need it. But as he knelt next to the half-conscious vampire, he didn’t see any sign of their wounds closing up. “Oh, God,” he whispered. His hands hovered over them, unsure of where to start. “Hey, can you hear me?”

No response.

Sam took a deep breath and sighed. “Can’t heal ‘em out here,” he muttered. He shook his head and rolled them onto their back.

Suddenly, silver eyes snapped open. Fangs protruded from their mouth as they snarled and tried to scramble back—but got cut off with a yelp as their hands flew to one of the injuries on their side. “Get away from me!” they spat.

“Whoa there, darlin’,” Sam said. “I’m a healer. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

They tried again to move, but their body wouldn’t let them do much more than jerk without a recoil of pain. Sam put his hands up to show he meant no harm.

“Look, I’m not the one who just got in a fight with three vamps—”

“Four,” they snapped. “And, for the record, I won.”

Sam made a show of taking stock of their injuries. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say,” he remarked sarcastically. They growled at him. “I can start fixin’ you up. Ya just gotta work with me. Can I pick you up?”

“I would rather—” The vampire tried to stand, but convulsed. “Yeah, yeah okay. Fine.”

Sam scooped them up as gently as he could and started to pick his way back the way he’d come. The vampire was holding their side. Sam suspected they probably broke at least one rib. “You from one of the clans ‘round here?” he asked, trying to make conversation.

They scoffed. “Only one in this city,” they choked out.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean y’ain’t from the surroundin’ region.”

“Nah. Moved to Dahlia long before I turned. Stayed after I turned.”

“So you’re Solaire Clan?”

“Mmhmm.”

Sam smacked his lips. “Is that sour grapes I taste?”

“Mind your business,” they spat, fangs snapping out and digging into their lower lip.

“Just tryna keep ya talkin’, darlin’. Keeps your mind off the pain. And you don’t seem the type to respond to the usual bedside manner tricks,” he remarked casually.

“I could kick your ass into next year, you know.”

“Oh without a doubt,” he agreed. “But in order to do that, you’ll have to be able to stand. Which you currently can’t. So I’m gonna take care of that for ya, okay?”

They growled again. But with a huff, they didn’t bother to argue. Despite the fact that they were clearly turned in their mid-twenties, they had an impetuous teenager attitude brewing around them.

“I’m Sam,” he said.

“Okay.”

He rolled his eyes. “What’s your name, darlin’?”

They didn’t reply. Just tensed their arm holding their side. Sam “Hmm”ed and ducked under a busted branch.

“If you don’t tell me your name, I’m just gonna keep callin’ ya ‘darlin’’,” he said.

They grunted.

He shrugged. “Alright.”

The rest of the walk back to his house was short, but spent in silence. He used a bit of Psychokinesis to open the back door and took them upstairs, putting the vampire in the shower/tub combo of the guest bathroom. They groaned in pain. Sam made a sympathetic face, waiting for them to find a comfortable position.

Once they settled, he scanned them with his eyes again. “Okay. I'm gonna clean the wounds first. It’s gonna sting.”

“I’m familiar.”

“Were you empowered before you turned?”

“Yup. Shifter.”

Sam swore quietly under his breath. “Hard to make the change?”

“Not really. Fighting as a wolf, fighting as a vamp—one less step in between. Still use my teeth and claws.” They flexed their hands to show off sharp nails. Not quite claws, but he understood the sentiment. “Just get to stay on two feet and maintain use of my thumbs.”

“I meant the lifestyle change. Pack to clan. From what I’ve heard packs are much tighter-knit than clans.”

“They are. But I was always more solitary by nature anyway.”

Sam cleaned out all their wounds in a burst of magic while they spoke. They wrenched out a swear before going limp in the bathtub.

“Coulda warned me,” they growled.

“Hurts less when it’s a surprise.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Know that from experience, do you?” Sam sniped.

“Yes, actually,” the vampire shot back. Sam stared. “You’ll see.”

Not knowing what they meant, he shook his head and went back to what he knew. Healing. “Mind if I move your clothes around to see your wounds?”

With some fidgeting and grunting, the vampire fully stripped their shirt off. “Don’t care,” they said.

Sam certainly did. He’d seen patients without any clothes on before. That wasn’t what startled him.

No. He was startled by this vampire’s body. Covered in scars that even a vampire’s healing factor or the act of turning them couldn’t fix. Not to mention the muscles packed tight under their skin. He made himself ignore his curiosity about the tattoo peeking around the arm farthest away from him and get to work.

“Can I touch? Healin’ works better if I—”

“I know. Go for it.”

Sam gently probed at their side. They hissed. “Yeah, that’s broken,” he murmured to himself. “Just… take a slow breath in. Not too deep. Just slow.” He inhaled with them. “And out.” As they exhaled, he healed the broken bone. They twitched, but otherwise didn’t react. “Took that well.”

“I’ve been healed a lot,” they grumbled. “Usually by my best friend in the pack back when I was a shifter.”

“One of the ones around here, I’m guessin’?”

Jaw tight, the vampire nodded. “Shaw.”

Sam blinked, startled. “As in Gabe and David?”

“Yup.” They sucked a deep breath in through clenched teeth, and slowly exhaled.

Then gave him their name.

Sam blinked. “I… know that name.”

“Duh. It was all over empowered news about fifteen years ago,” they ground out. Sam guided them through another inhale and exhale as he healed the worst gash he could see—the one on their other side just over their hip. “That’s why I don’t use it much anymore. Can’t get a lick of privacy when the Shaw Pack’s beta—” They snarled the word out. “—runs afoul of a damn leech and gets turned because of it. Even fifteen years later.”

“What happened?”

“Don’t you read the news?”

“No.” Sam healed what must have been a broken finger. They bit out another sharp curse.

“Damn bastard named Quinn. Nomadic. He doesn’t have a clan. He and I got in a fight when he strayed into Gabe’s territory. I just about had him beat when he caught me off guard and pulled a damn trance on me. Crooned about how he never tranced if he could help it—that it wasn’t as fun—but that he knew he couldn’t beat me. Decided to teach me a lesson.” Their fangs slid down into place again. Sam guided them through one more breath to heal another nasty injury. “Bit into his own wrist and made me drink it, then drained me. I passed out.

“When I woke up, William’s first blood, Alexis, had torn Quinn to shreds. I was barely conscious. She carried me back to Will. Dropped me rather unceremoniously on his desk. Said something she’s never explained about rectifying a mistake of hers, told William I was his problem now, and then left the office.

“I spent the next year being shepherded through my bloodlust by William and Vincent with no maker. Which suits me just fine. After I was out of it, William offered me a place in the clan. I wanted to leave but I couldn’t get back the life I’d lost. Gabe had replaced me with Adrian and was right to do so. Striking out on my own sounded great but… I owed a great debt to Will and Vincent for taking care of me. By the time I estimated I’d repaid them both, I’d grown too damn attached to them and just… kept… not leaving. So I stayed.”

The entire time they spoke, Sam used their distraction to heal them without them dwelling on their pain. Sounded like they needed to get it off their chest anyway. Fifteen years was a long time to hold onto that story, and he imagined they’d never told anyone else.

“Alright. If you don’t use your name anymore, what name do you use? What do I call you?” he asked as he finished up the last of the worst injuries. Their healing factor seemed to have finally gotten with the program and stitched up the little stuff.

“Gabe used to say I was built like a tank. Caught on with the pack. They called me Tank when they were being funny. That’s still what I use when I don’t want to draw attention to myself.”

Sam raised a brow. “Think I’ll just stick to ‘darlin’’,” he remarked.

They scoffed. “Whatever.”

“It’s been a while since you fed, isn’t it?”

“What?” Their tone turned even sharper than it had been. Defending a weakness, he thought.

“You weren’t healin’ naturally as fast as most vamps your age could. Only reason for that I know of is when a vamp hasn’t fed in a while.”

“Mind your business.”

“I’m a healer, darlin’. The health of my patient is my business.”

A growl rumbled low in their chest. They assessed their body with a sharp gaze. “Looks like I’m all healed up now, though. Not your patient anymore. So… Thank you, Sam. I'll get out of your hair.”

They moved to get up, but Sam put a hand on their shoulder. “Now hold on, darlin’. Healin’ magic that deep will knock you right out. If you pass out on the run back to your clan’s den, you could plow face-first into a tree.”

“I know how to power through the fatigue.”

“You shouldn’t have to. Got a clanmate’s number I can call to have someone come pick you up?” he asked. They opened their mouth—presumably to protest again—so he cut them off. “Because it’s that or you’re stayin’ the night in my spare room.”

They dodged out from under his hand on their shoulder. “No thanks,” they said.

“Alright. Who should I call?”

“Ghostbusters,” they retorted sarcastically. Then sighed. “William’s probably the easiest to reach. He’s always in his office all night. I don’t know the number off the top of my head and my phone’s at home but if you look up Solaire Property Management on Google Maps, you’ll find the building number. You can get to William that way. Or one of the clan.” They smirked sarcastically. “If you’re tech-savvy enough for that.”

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled his phone out. “Surprisin’ as it might seem, you and I are probably not that different in age.”

“Probably not,” they agreed, stretching. They narrowed those silver eyes. “Let me guess… mid… late seventies?”

“Late.”

They nodded. “Eighty-one,” they said. “You’ve got five years on me, max.”

He chuckled. “Yup.” He’d found the Solaire Property Management building on Google Maps and tapped the phone number, selecting the Call option and holding it up to his ear.

It rang three times before, “Solaire Property Management, this is Astoria. How may I help you?” The woman had a faded European accent.

“Hi there. My name is Sam Collins. I’m a healer and I found one of your clanmates pretty beaten-up out in the woods behind my property after pickin’ a fight with four other vamps. I patched them up but they’re really not in any shape to be runnin’ home. Healin’ magic tends to make people drowsy. I was hopin’ someone in your clan could come pick them up.”

There was a long pause. “What’s the address?”

Sam relayed his address.

“Tell Tank that Vincent will be there soon,” Astoria said.

“How did you—”

Astoria cut off a laugh before it fully made it out of her throat. “Who else would it be? The only other member of the clan reckless enough to pick an unwinnable fight like that got his head torn off last year.” She cleared her throat. “Vincent is on his way.”

“Thank you kindly, ma’am,” Sam said.

“Thank you for healing them.”

“Just doin’ my job.” Sam hung up.

Tank snorted humorlessly. “Of course she knew it was me,” they groaned, leaning their head against the back of the bathtub. “She’s right. Adam was the only other member of the clan stupid enough to do what I did—except he was worse and got what was definitely coming to him.”

“And you?”

“I will one day, probably. But, this time at least, I was defending my clan’s territory from raiders. Smaller clan in the region who keeps trying to snipe our territory out from under us. Third time this year I've found rogues in my woods.”

Sam hummed in thought. “Listen, darlin’, I know you’re a vampire and your healin’ is good. But you should come into the clinic near the academy campus later this week. Give it three days to see how you’re healin’ up. I’ll be workin’ that day. I’ll stay till the sun’s down so I can check up on you, okay?”

Tank opened their mouth, but no sound came out. “You’re not giving me a choice, are you?”

“‘Course I am. It’s your life. It’s your health. But, as a healer, I have to do my due diligence. And I want to make sure you’re okay.”

They blinked slowly at him. “Okay,” they said. “I’ll see you in three days.”

“See you in three days.”

Sam helped them gingerly pick their way out of the bathtub. Blood clung to the ceramic. He would clean it later. Carefully, he monitored their progress down the stairs and led them to the front door and out onto the porch.

They waited all of ten minutes before bright headlights swung around the corner and a sleek, cherry-red Mustang pulled up in front of the house.

Sam whistled. “Nice car,” he said.

“Vincent loves them,” Tank grumbled.

A man who appeared only a few years younger than Tank climbed out of the car, dressed in a suit with no jacket on. He was tall and pale, with curly black hair almost blue in the moonlight. He braced his elbows on the roof of the car and perched his chin on his hands. An impish smile was already on his face. “What’d you do this time, slugger?” he asked playfully.

Tank muttered some choice words under their breath. The young man laughed.

“You wish,” he retorted.

“Sam, this is Vincent Solaire,” Tank said. “Vincent, this is Sam.”

With a Zip, Vincent was standing on the porch, a hand out. “Hey,” he greeted. “I assume you’re the one to thank for the fact that this pain in the ass is on their feet?”

Tank hissed at him. Vincent hissed back, but he was smiling.

Sam shook Vincent’s hand. “If that’s how you want to put it,” he said.

“Pleasure to meet you. Vincent Solaire.”

Tank groaned and scoffed with a roll of their eyes. “Stop flirting, Vin,” they spat, grabbing Vincent’s wrist and starting to pull him off the porch.

“I just said hello!” Vincent protested, hopping along, off-balance, behind them.

“For you that’s flirting,” they retorted, shoving him at the driver’s side of the car. Vincent rolled his own eyes and climbed back in. Tank hesitated before ducking in. They glanced back at Sam. “Thanks again, Sam.”

He gave them a smile. “You’re welcome, darlin’,” he replied.

They smiled back—just a little one—and ducked into the car. The engine revved and the car sped off, back the way it had come.

Inside it, Vincent turned a playful grin on his clanmate. “‘Darlin’’?” he quoted.

Tank shoved him in the shoulder. “Shut up,” they snapped.

—

William looked up from his desk as two of his progeny—only one in blood, the other in bond—stepped into his office. The younger of the two drenched in blood. He pulled his reading glasses off his nose. “What happened to you?” he asked, concern dripping from his tone.

Vincent snickered and took up a post by the door. Just in case they tried to escape to get out of an awkward conversation again.

The younger vampire plopped down in one of the leather armchairs across the desk from William. “Oh. Y’know. Scared four vampires off our turf and got put through the wringer for my troubles. Typical Monday for me,” they said sarcastically.

William sighed and steepled his fingers. “What are we going to do with you?” he asked with a fond smile on his face.

“I think we should keep ‘em,” Vincent joked. He was rewarded with Tank’s middle finger flashed in his direction. William gave them a disappointed glance, and they shoved their hand in the torn pocket of their jeans, their own expression turning from irritated to apologetic.

William pulled a blood bag out of the mini-fridge built into his desk and passed it over. “Feed, my dear,” he said. “You need it.”

They didn’t protest. Just took it from his hand.

“Once that’s empty, Vincent will take you home. I expect you to clean up and get some rest, do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” they said.

“Now. Tell me what happened?”

Taking a deep breath as they opened the blood bag, they launched into the full story.

—

Tag list: @zozo-01 @shellssstuff @thegoldenlittlerose @darlin-collins

[reigningqueenofwords]

Where Is She?

Word count: 1,741

Read on AO3

Part 4 of Hello There

Despite Dean telling you that he didn’t think Bruce could go, you’d taken him with. You told Dean that you’d leave him in the hotel room. Although, you were pretty sure that hellhounds didn’t exactly abide by the law of physics, so who the hell knew? He slept on your lap a good bit of the first day’s drive. Every time you noticed either of the Winchesters looking at you, they had a funny look on their face. It probably looked like you were petting thin air.

At the first motel, they only had one room. You claimed the couch, not really caring. At first, they protested, but you’d won. You didn’t want to share a bed, and knew that they wouldn’t. Sam wouldn’t fit on any couch you’d ever seen, and Dean would bitch about being sore the next day. That left you.

You’d been pretty quiet the whole trip, causing them to worry slightly. Normally when you’d team up with them, you were full of life, quick to sarcasm, and not afraid to be yourself. Not quiet and reserved. Hell, you’d reacted more to the hellhound than to them. Sam sat at the little table doing research while Dean cleaned some of their guns, and you showered. Bruce scared Sam by jumping on his lap. You’d locked him out of the bathroom when he started trying to climb in the tub. You just didn’t think that showering with a hellhound (hellpuppy?) would be a good idea.

As you stepped out, you could hear a loud thud, followed by Dean swearing up a storm. You couldn’t help but laugh. You quickly dried and dressed, stepping out of the bathroom. “Do I even want to know?” You smiled. Their faces seemed to soften at that.

Sam grinned before speaking, though. “Bruce tripped Dean. And down he went.”

“Not funny. That mutt needs to stay out from under my feet.” Dean snapped. “Why the hell did your boyfriend give you a hellhound and not a normal damn dog?” Not that he thought that was too much better.

You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not my fault he’s a puppy, now is it?” Sitting on the bed, you scooped up Bruce and put him next to you. “And Crowley isn’t my boyfriend.” You added quietly, scratching Bruce’s stomach.

The rest of the night was fairly quiet, other than Sam randomly giving the two of you info. About eleven you fell asleep on the couch, Bruce curled up behind your knees. He was a bit warmer than your average dog, so a blanket really wasn’t needed.

Dean made a note to summon Crowley the first chance he got to see what the hell was going on. He hated the guy, but whatever was going on wasn’t cool. They both went to bed soon after.

When you woke up, they were already packed and ready to go. Which was odd. Normally you had to wait around on Dean. You quickly dressed and loaded your things back into the Impala. For some reason, Dean decided to just drive in shifts, as opposed to getting another motel. That was something that he’d never done before. He said it was so you could get there faster, because that many witches needed to be stopped.

Dean drove for twelve hours, and then had Sam drive. You curled up in the backseat with Bruce on your chest while Sam drove. He was a more cautious driver than Dean, so you figured that it was safe. Before you knew it, you were being shaken awake. Groaning, you stretched.

“What’s up?” You asked.

“We just checked in. You and Dean are going to check out the area the witches were seen in while I get some sleep. This way we have an idea of what to look out for.” Sam told you, and you could tell that he was tired.

You nodded, getting out of the car and stretching. “Wait, Dean?” You started. “You said Bruce couldn’t come. Why?” Wouldn’t having him there be helpful?

He shrugged. “Crowley said that it’s warded to demons. He can’t get in. I figured that means your hellmutt can’t either.” He shoved his gun in the back of his jeans.

“Alright. Sam, just…don’t kill him?” You teased, passing him off. He looked at you like you were insane. “Just put him on the couch and he should be fine. Not like I’ll be gone that long.” You scratched behind one of Bruce’s ears and went to catch up with Dean. It was close enough that you were walking.

After a few minutes of silence, Dean spoke up. “Did what Crowley do bother you that much?” He asked.

You shrugged. “I guess. I mean, one minute we’re about to have movie night, the next he suddenly has to go. The next morning I mentioned changing so he could pop me to the bunker, and he zapped me into my clothes. It was like he really wanted me gone.” There was a sadness to your voice.

“You love him, don’t you?” Surprisingly, his voice was gentle, and void of any judgement.

Taking a deep breath you gave him a sad smile. “Doesn’t really matter, does it? I’m back in the hunting world completely. My room in hell is likely gone, and I won’t be traveling to fairs anymore. It was fun while it lasted. Quickest friendship I’ve ever had, though.” You told him.  

Dean didn’t reply, knowing how to read between the lines. He saw the building up ahead and stopped you. “Alright, when we get closer, I want you to check out the left side of the building. I’ll go right.” He said, pulling out his gun and keeping it low. You nodded, doing the same.

Nothing more was said, not wanting to alert anyone who might be near by. When you went left, it took you a couple minutes until you couldn’t see Dean anymore. From the looks of things, it looked like an old office building. You couldn’t call it abandoned because it didn’t look that way. It didn’t have the creepy factor of broken windows and cobwebs. That in itself made your skin crawl.

You turned the corner to find a witch waiting for you. He was very handsome, you had to say. Seeing him smirk, you couldn’t take your eyes off of his. You couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying, but you found yourself handing over your gun. All you wanted was to do his bidding. “Come, I think that you’ll like it here.” He told you, a thick Scottish accent dripping from every word. As you entered the building, you smelled new leather, cigars, and pine. It was heavenly.

The witch led you to another room, it looked much like a hotel room. You would have never guessed that this was on the inside. He sat next to you, a smug look on his face. “Now, in a few moments, a lovely young lady will bring you a drink. That drink will help you feel more at ease here.” He began. “You don’t have to worry about anything out there ever again. I promise you that. You will be by my side. We just need to get you dressed for the part, and up to speed. Do you think you can handle that?” He asked, watching your face.

Looking at him, pure adoration shone through. “Anything you’d like, my love.” Your voice didn’t even sound like you.

He smiled, kissing your forehead before getting up to leave the room. You missed him the instant the door clicked shut.

Dean made it to the back where you should have met him, but you weren’t there. Furrowing his brow, he continued circling the building. Finishing the lap, his heart dropped. They had got you, he just knew it. He ran back to the motel, bursting in and waking up Sam. “She’s gone.” He panted, leaning over.

Sam was groggy, staring at him. “Wait, what happened?” He asked, stretching. When he went to push the blankets back, he heard a ‘thud’ and looked over. “Damn it, Bruce.”

Taking a deep breath, Dean began to explain. “We got to the building. We each were going to check a side, and I figured we’d meet in the back. Only she wasn’t there. I finished circling the building, and there’s no sign of her.” He grabbed a water and chugged it.

By now, Sam was awake. “You know Crowley’s gonna kill you, right?” He pointed out.

“He dropped her off on our damn doorstep. He can’t care all that much.” Dean snapped.

“He dropped her off with a damn hellhound, Dean. That she can see.” Sam argued. “You think he does that for just anyone?” Dean’s face fell. “Maybe he dropped her off for an entirely different reason other than he doesn’t care!” Sam was a bit cranky from lack of sleep at the moment.  

Dean flopped on the chair, groaning. He really did not want to tell Crowley this. “Can you tell Crowley?” He asked. Sam was higher, Crowley couldn’t reach him as well.

“You think I want to piss him off? Ooooooh no, Dean. You were the one that went with her. You were the one that split up. You can be the one to tell Crowley that you let her get taken.”

As if on cue, Crowley popped in. “Hello you two.”

Dean jumped. “What the hell? Are you like Beetlejuice? Say your name three times and you appear?” He said.

“No, you idiot. I’m checking on your progress.” He said, raising an eyebrow. “Where’s Y/N?” He asked, spotting Bruce. Noting Dean’s face, Crowley’s look darkened. “Where. Is. She?”

“Uh, I don’t know exactly.” He started. “With the witches, I’m guessing.” He told him.

Crowley’s eyes were on fire with rage. “I give you one job- stop the bloody witches, and you get Y/N kidnapped? By the very witches that need to be dealt with?” He snapped. Dean nodded. “Well, I’ve got some more information for you. Those witches? Are stealing men and women. Dosing them with some potion. The women are being taken by the men, some as brides, some as slaves. The men are the same for women.” He said, his voice low. “Get her back. Or I will reserve a special place in hell for the two of you.” With that he was gone.

[bananathebookworm]

TLOVM Season 2 Eps 7-9 Ramblings

EP. 7

- I love the Feywild design so much. In general, the distinct designs of each location in this show are amazing, but I really enjoy how well they convey the Fewwild’s unique atmosphere.

- Percy’s such a fucking dork oh my god...

- Oh good. The sword’s corruption is visible to the others now.

- Grog trying to keep the sword sounding a little like Travis’ own frustrations bleeding through. I know he hated not being able to use Kraven Edge to its full potential in game.

- I do not like these jumpscares I have anxiety fuck off

- Garmelie! 

- Scrawny Grog!

- Vax’s anger at Percy... understandable why he feels that way, but I don’t know that I like it. 

- I love hearing more of the cast singing this season. Also turning “Makin’ My Way” into a new song... fucking phenomenal. I need the album for all of the music this season with full versions of everything.

- Also appreciating Scanlan the caregiver. I remember Sam/Scanlan always made a point to make sure everyone else was healed before accepting any himself.

- Garmelie fucking with Percy is my favourite thing.

- Feywild acid trip... I don’t know if this is amazing or terrifying.

- These fights are so fun. I love seeing their more creative battle tactics come to life.

- Percy letting Vax know he has his back even if Vax wants nothing to do with Percy... 

- I also love seeing these villain conversations that we never got to see in the campaign.

- Scrawny Grog is reminding me of Fjord losing his powers and Travis’ struggle feeling useless in the fights they had before he got them back. 

- Syngorn! Time for more Twins backstory.

- Wait, that’s the end of the episode already? Fuck these are too short.

EP. 8 

- Again loving the designs of this place.

- Velora! She’s so cute!

- Ugh. Syldor. Fuck off. Stay on the cute sibling bonding.

- Wilhand! Let’s stay with the Trickfoots for a bit.

- Can we throw Syldor out that window behind him. I hate him so much. (Kudos to Liam, Laura, Matt, and Troy for creating and bringing this character to life in all his despicableness.)

- Was not expecting to see Scanlan shoving something up Grog’s ass... but here we are...

- Percy telling off Syldor and standing up for Vex. And Vex telling him off immediately after.

- “What does fuck you mean?” I wish they had kept the entire sequence of Velora picking up phrases from Scanlan.

- The lighting in this series is so well done.

- I hate watching villains exploit a characters’ insecurities... poor Vex.

- “I can fix you.” SHE’S NOT BROKEN FUCK OFF.

- “My heart is someone else’s.” HELL YES.

- I love fire elemental Keyleth. And also just Keyleth.

- “The Fey Realm is definitely better in the books.” Okay nerd.

- ARTIE REVEAL! Also love that Matt is voicing him. I couldn’t imagine anyone else doing it. 

- “He killed me with them.” Grog backstory next! 

EP. 9

- Boulder, parchment, shears! I love how many inside jokes they work into the show while still making them make sense.

- Scanlan’s red beret! I love the little hat on the little dragonfly.

- Kaylie!

- Grog’s backstory is another reminder of the stark difference between hearing the backstories on stream and actually seeing them brought to life.

- Dark-haired Pike! I wonder if they’re ever going to explain that change now that they’ve shown it.

- “No one wants your damn autograph!” followed by an immediate zoom out to Dr. Dranzel tucking a piece of paper into his jacket. Brilliant.

- Also changing Scanlan’s story a bit so that he was never a part of Dr. Dranzel’s group, but Kaylie is.

- Oh good. Ripley and Umbrasyl are here. This is good. Everything’s great.

- Once again the dragon designs this season are terrifying

- Kevdak’s death is going to be the most satisfying one this season holy fuck.

- I love that Pike pluralizes “Buddies” every time.

- The Tabaxi mother with her baby... my heart...

- Ending on Grog screaming Kevdak’s name. Ugh. Chills. This fight is one of my favourites

-----

GENERAL

- I can’t believe there are only three episodes left and they haven’t taken down a single dragon yet. And yet so. much. has happened.

- Also can’t help but wonder how the two groups are going to reconnect. One of my favourite parts of the Kevdak fight is the use of the locket and Vex isn’t with Grog right now. There’s also a key Scanlan and Vax conversation after this fight that I hope they kept, but could easily be moved to a different time.

- I like the idea of splitting the party for these episodes. I didn’t think I would, but it really helped to get some important parts of the story told concurrently and concisely instead of spread out over the entire season. 

[sovio-studio]

Day 7: Weapon

Every day weaponry

Word count: 1247

Desc: When Danny is unavailable and a ghost targets the whole school, the others have to improvise. Really improvise.

~~~

Sam and Tucker dove into the next classroom, slamming the door shut behind them. They immediately locked eyes with a gang of their classmates bundled together in the corner of the room on full alert. Dash quickly tried to replace his nervous stare with his usual confident one, while Paulina and Star just seemed to become agitated.

"What are you losers doing in here, this is our hiding spot."

"Noone owns hiding spots!" Sam snapped back before turning her gaze back to the door to back away cautiously. They watched them both in uncertainty for a second before someone spoke.

"Did you lead the fucking ghost to us!?" One of the football players exclaimed. Half of the group held their breath at the sudden anticipation while the others glared daggers at the pair.

"Tucker, message him." Sam muttered through her teeth.

"But I thought-"

"Just do it."

Without another word Tucker pulled out his phone, immediately bumping into a desk as they were still backing up. He almost fell into the front of the huddle, three people trying to shove him away again.

Just as Dash finally regained enough composure to speak without giving away his nerves, the door burst open. Despite their ability to pass through anything, many of the ghosts seemed to like a dramatic entrance. A young adult spirit dressed like a teacher they'd never seen before marched inside smiling widely.

"Are the little kiddies playing hide and seek? How cute." She hummed, her smile seeming to grow brighter but eerily more threatening. "But it's time to come back to learning now."

She held up a hand and a mess of green string shot out towards them in an instant, breaking the quiet with a chorus of gasps and screams as everyone cowered. After most of them realised they weren't hurt, they slowly peeked up again to see that Star was now gripped tightly by the rope, pulled back towards the woman who held onto the other end tightly. Star was squirming as much as it'd let her, breathing frantically.

The fear in her eyes shook Paulina to her core.

"Get away from my bestie!" She screamed, barely thinking and grabbing the closest item to her.

"Hey what are you-"

She lobbed the item as fast as she could at the ghost, not really knowing or caring if it hit. She just felt like she had to do something in the moment.

"Ow! Shit!"

Star yelped as the ropes dissipated and she was dropped to the ground. She looked back at Paulina, who was just blinking bewildered at her.

"How did that-"

"Who cares why it worked, let's go!" Sam shouted, seeming to snap everyone back to reality. She and Tucker didn't hesitate to head for the exit behind the ghost, who was now bent over with a hand over its eye. Star did the same, first grabbing Paulina's wrist, who was basically running on all adrenaline no thoughts right now.

Everyone in the classroom followed, people dragging along anyone who seemed too frozen in place. Tucker went to grab his phone as they passed, Sam reprimanding him and yanking him back to his feet so they could keep moving. As the first few reached the door, a low growl echoed from behind them. Everyone got faster.

The door was too much of a chokepoint, and a few of the back were captured. Their sacrifice did however give everyone else the time, as rather than chase the escapees, she dragged her prey down the hall in the other direction, likely to wherever she had taken everyone else.

The new group made it all the way to the bend in the corridor where the main entrance would come into view. When they got there however, they were met with what can only be described as life sized ghostly wooden puppets, hung by green strings that faded into nothing in the air. A couple noticed them there and began hobbling towards them like zombies.

"Oh what the hell!" Dash exclaimed, turning around to run back.

"Wait!" Sam took charge again. Despite her 'loser' social status she could be quite authoritative when she wanted to be. "She's back that way remember! And don't you think the other exits will be guarded too?"

"How are we meant to get to it through them!" He gestured to the hoard that they were now having to swiftly back away from.

"Tucker, you haven't changed your phone since Technus last infected it right?"

"No, why?"

"It's contaminated. I think that's why it hurt the ghost despite being a normal object."

"There's no way no matter what happened to it that that thing hurt it that much!" Someone else interjected.

"It did hit it in the eye." Tucker pointed out.

"Then let's test it." Sam decided, speaking over him and yanking his phone.

The device smacked a puppet in the head, and the thing promptly stubbled backwards onto the floor, as if it had been hit with something far heavier.

"Not again…" Tucker complained quietly, "But hey, it works."

"Pretty well too." Sam observed proudly. "Does anyone have anything that a ghost has interacted with. Anything more than just holding it should do."

After a moment of no one moving, a few people made quiet theories or notes to themselves.

"Maybe…"

"Yeah I might do."

"Now that you mention it…"

"Oh that!"

"Well let's split into teams based on where your lockers are and go get your stuff, whatever it is." Sam explained

Dash inhaled as if he was about to object to following orders from her, but ultimately decided against it.

After sectioning people oft as best she could, she and Tucker set off quickly, seperating from the pack despite some of them heading in the same direction.

"Why don't we just use the weapons in our lockers?" He asked now he actually had the chance.

"We are doing. I don't want to deal with those idiots deciding that they also deserve ecto weapons just because we have some."

"Oh, good point."

Before they even got close, they found themselves abruptly stopped in place, bound in green strings.

"Now kiddos," a silky voice called from behind them, "What's the rules about running in the halls."

"Shit."

~~~

Danny took the spare thermos from Tucker and inspected it in disbelief.

"Let me get this straight. You guys got captured, so a bunch of regular teenagers broke everyone free using… a pair of trainers, a makeup kit, a regular thermos, a ruler, the torn off door of a locker, four mobile phones, and about twenty boxes?"

Sam and Tucker glanced at one another before Sam shrugged, smiling reluctantly.

"I don't really believe it either, but yeah. Other than the actual capturing part they did most of the work."

Danny chuckled "I guess everything can be a weapon if you use it wrong enough… maybe keep your actual weapons nearby next time though."

"But your weapons are regular objects now apparently." Danny noted, still amused by that. He was about to ask if they had any more details on it before Sam interjected.

"Hey, it's not like we can just take them to class with us." Tucker retorted, "Unlike you, our weapons aren't our hands."

"Speaking of, can you like leave my boots in the ghost zone for a day or something? I'd really enjoy getting to roundhouse kick a ghost for once."

"As much as I'd love to see that, I'm not sure if that's a good idea."

"Damn."

~~~

I wrote this in one go and barely checked it so it might be a mess. Sorry I didn't actually include the rescue part, I wasn't sure exactly how to tackle that, but I will say I think they'd use any cardboard boxes as makeshift armour. Who knows how effective that'd be, even if contaminated, but it's funny.

[little-reader]

The Mouth of A Dead Woman

Warnings; Death, language, blood, a beat up

This is kind of crappy writing for this one, sorry, I got bored halfway through. ;O

--------------------------------------------  --->

Carl Grimes. Someone you felt like you shouldn’t mess with, but it was so fun. You sat on the roof of Aaron and Eric's house. Peering down at the people. Carl was pissed, he hadn’t talked since three days ago. Apparently, something terrible happened, more like someone. You slid down onto the self-built platform that perfectly hid at the back of the house. You hid weapons you found outside candy, snacks, food in general, and book and comics. Sometimes you would steal random things from people, and hide them. It’s just what you did.

You despise carl. Or you just liked to annoy him. You weren’t sure. 

“Sam! Get down from there!” Erik called from the ground. Eric and Aaron were like your own dads. They fed you, gave you a home, and a room, and took care of you. You jokingly call Eric mama bird, and Aaron big bear or papa bear.

“Yeah yeah. In a minute.” You called down, looking at the man before hiding back where he couldn’t see you. You laid back, looking at the clear blue sky as the clouds laid lazily… like you, right now. You sighed and closed your eyes, listening to the wind blowing and the people talking, dog barking, kids playing and screaming, doors opening and shutting, the feet running, the gate opening-

“What the hell?” you sat up, looking slightly around before clinging to the top of the house and peering over. Trucks, a bunch of men. You watched as the trucks came in, about the time Aaron came by. You quickly got down from the house and ran down, hiding to the side as a man with a bat talked to rick. As his people started to scatter down the street and into houses. 

“Holy shit.” You mumbled under your breath, You looked around. “Fuck.” You said, looking at your older brother, Samuel who was a year older than you (17), Stand up to one of the guys. He was imminently shut down and shoved to the ground. You ran over grabbing your taser, which was not the last of them, and shocked the man. Leaving him screaming.” You Fuckin’ bitched!” He yelled, kicking you down. 

A few punches, maybe a few kicks and slaps when the man was taken off of you. Your bother yelling and crying while being held back by other residents. “Holy, Shit!” The man, you're guessing Negan, Said, bending down to look at you, he moved the hair out of your face, looking at the few cuts and multiple bruises on your face, along with the busted lip and black eye. “Fuck!” He said, his smile dropping a bit. “Now, now Brett.” He said, looking at the older man. “This is a child, the same age or younger than that little sociopath.” He pointed to carl, then down to you. “Take her kid, you too.” He said to carl and Aaron. 

They carried you down to the infirmary, laying you down on the bed and grabbing meds, cloth, and bandages. “You should have never entered that,” Carl said, giving you a glass of water and pain meds. 

“He’s right, You haven’t been this hurt since I found you and your brother. It worries me.” He said, looking at the bruises on your stomach.

 “Aww. Papa bear,” You said, laughing, then coughing, then wheezing. Rick came in, and pulled Aaron out to talk, forcing you and carl into the same room. “So…. How's life… sweet pea.” You said, looking at Carl, watching him at the door, trying to listen in on the conversation.

“Don’t call me that.” He said, walking over to you, the window behind you, looking out into the roads.

You thought for a moment, sighing. “You know who you remind me of?” You asked. He looked over sighing. Then speaking. “What?”. You started to giggle. “Ah… You said the word.” You looked over to his annoyed eyes… eye.

“You’re really annoying, I don't understand why you like to talk so much. Or even how people talk to you, you're like a mockingbird, you won't shut up,”

“Hey, shhh. Listen you hear that?” You pause, looking at him again, then smiled. “That's me not giving a shit.” You said. He huffed and left into the other room. You rolled your eye and looked out the window, seeing some of the men coming towards the building. “Shit.” You said, hiding the medicine right beside you under the pillow, along with the bandages and alcohol. You lay perfectly and closed your eyes as the men came in.

“Look at her! She’s that freaks brother right? The one that made brett beat her the hell up?” One of them asked, laughing, poking your arm. “She passed the fuck out. He did a number on her.” The other men started to inspect the room, then opened the medicine cabinet. 

“Yeah, that's her. Her brother got a nice punishment from the boss.” He said. “Nice cut across the face, you could see the blood in his hair-.” You heard a gun click, and one bullet fire, making you jump and open your eyes. 

“Carl!”

The two men ran in, Rick and Negan, looking at the boy with the gun. You pushed yourself off of the bed as Negan began to talk.  Carl was still pointing the gun, basically in Negan's face as the other men smirked. You grabbed the gun, looking carl in the eye. “Please.” You said, ignoring the others looking at you. Carl looked at you more than the men. “God so helps me I’ll give you black and blue balls, Carl.” You said, as he dropped the gun out of his grip, looking at you weirdly, allowing you to take it, placing it in Negan's hand. He said something, but you couldn’t hear him “And you,” You said looking over to Negan. Your mind was splitting and spinning. Like Sally on the seashore. “Keep those nasty men from touching me, I’m a child, not a golden slut on the street they can just bite,” you said, poking his chest. Negan, the man who always had a smirk on his face, looked at you just like carl.

“Whaaaa..” You looked down, there was blood dripping out of your mouth and onto the floor. “Shit.” You said, dropping to the floor. Everything was so slow for you. It was like watching a Star Wars movie all over again. You were being rushed somewhere, you looked around. Everything was so… slow. Your brother was running toward you, and so were Aaron and Eric. Your eyes started to roll back and everything went black. You could still hear the thigs around you. “She's…. dead.”

[tikus-library]

"A Long Day"

Avengers AU - Drabble

Characters: Sam Wilson x reader

Posted: Feb 17th

WARNINGS: SMUT, NO UNDER 18, I tried to add fluff....

Like, Comments, & Reblogs are always appreciated and loved.

**Please Do Not Repost or 'Fix' My Work**

For anon

The door shut loudly which wasn't a good sign, you had texted him briefly that your day was going downhill fast. One single number had taken the day down the drain pipe. Your boss had come down on you hard, stayed with you throughout the day helping you search for that one number and took it upon himself to remind you this was a rookie mistake throughout the entire process.

You had missed lunch.

Tripped over your feet and fell face first.

No bruises but it had been one hell of a day.

You toed your shoes off and stood in the small hallway at the entrance of your apartment, fighting back the overwhelming feeling of failure. Eyes stinging as you struggled not to openly sob.

Strong warm hands caught your shoulders and slowly kneaded into the tight muscles there, lips connecting with the side of your neck and Sam whispered soothingly into your skin. Frustration melted away as you turned into his arms.

"Hey there," he chuckled, wrapping you into the safety of his arms, "I got dinner served and a nice chocolate pie to boot."

You squirmed in his hold till you could tip your head back and lifted onto your toes. Sam bent down and pressed his lips to yours, soft and sweet little pecks quickly turned a little heated as you eagerly responded.

Sam hooked his thumbs into the top of your slacks, shoving them off as you pushed a hand into his gym shorts, wrapping your hand around him, smirking smugly against his lips as he hardened in your grasp. "Y/N…" You loved when his voice caught in his throat around your name, the way he pressed you back into the wall, lifting your leg and the way his breath escaped as you helped guide him into you, both of you sighing softly as he buried himself inside you.

He started slow, large hands wrapped tightly around the back of your thighs as he kissed you tenderly, each kiss and roll of his hips brushing away the frustrations of the day. You moved with him, panting softly as you held onto his shoulders, wrapping an arm around him to hold on as he quickened his pace.

"Nngh, Sam!" Your breath hitched as he drove in, hitting that spot you needed him to with a self satisfied grin as you cried out, walls clenching down on him and he buried himself in you following you over the edge.

"That wasn't planned …" he hummed into your hair, your face still buried in his broad shoulder. "I mean not till later"

"Mnn…" was all you could muster.

"There's flowers and chocolate, music," he continued a little breathless. "A bubble bath"

"You're still in me–" you mumbled, finally lifting your head, "we could do the bubble bath and then the rest?"

Sam chuckled as he pulled you away from the wall and kept you held against him. "Sounds like a plan."

[jjhayhay20]

@alwaysmicado thank you for your support, so here's chapter two (that I finally finished 😅)

Shadows of the Night

Kennedy

"Allie!" I snapped at the curly blonde who was currently sucking the face off some boy she met about a week ago. "Allie, we need to go." I pull at her arm. "We need to go now!" I hissed as the boy shoved me away from her, not being successful, but he tried.

"Buzz off, little girl. Can't you see we're busy?" He snapped back as I ignored him.

"Allie." My voice was pleading, desperate to get out while we still had the chance.

"Kennedy!" She hissed venomously as she ripped her arm from my grasp. "I don't care! I want you to leave and stop bothering me!" She nearly screamed as a light flashed in our direction and I let her go and slinked away from it.

Once Sam died and Connor was forced into the war not even a year later, Allie and I started to grow apart, showing interest in different things. Allie gave all of her attention to the boys around us and I was more into the news and reading about first aid and how to survive in the wild. My mother disappeared a few months after Connor was taken to boot camp, and Allie and I joined a small group just outside of New Hampshire, in a little town on the Vermont border. Most of the people here were higher than a kite, but I couldn't blame them. We seemed to be on the losing side, gun laws are nonexistent, murder and crime are at an all-time high, and we have been shoved under martial law, so being high doesn't seem as terrible anymore.

"Leave, Kennedy. I'm done babysitting you." She snapped as I glared at her before grabbing my bag and disappearing into the shadows of the night. I got maybe 50 feet from the camp before screams and gunshots rang clear through the silence of midnight. I ran back, just to see that boy push Allie in front of him so that she shot right before my eyes, and he had a chance to make it out alive. I was just about to go after him but then the man that killed Allie went down and so did the other one before a thought hit me.

I'm never going to make it if I don't have a weapon to protect myself.

With that thought, I slinked under the fence and grabbed what I could off the two corpses on the ground. I had to pull away a few times because of the death and the stench that came with it. Get used to it, Ken. This won't be the last dead body you'll see. I thought before adding to it as I stashed the last of what was useful from the man inside my pack. Or raid.

I'm only 12 years old for crying out loud! I never should have- my thoughts get caught off by radio static crackling and my ears immediately perk up. I haven't heard that sound in ages. Never mind that, but electricity in general. I don't know about the rest of the world but at least in the States that solar storm that we had six, maybe seven months ago, knocked out everything, cell towers, and so on.

"What's happening?" A woman screams in panic as a man yells at her to get back, or maybe the reason why she's screaming.

"What the hell is that!?" A different man cries out before the woman lets out a blood-curdling scream.

"It won't let go!"

"Help!" Another voice screams before the person changes the station.

"What the hell is goin' on there?" A thick Southern accent erupts from a tall man as he walks over in a plain black T-shirt that looks a bit too big on him.

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" The man with the radio scoffed. "What doya think I am? A fuckin Gemini?" I cringed at that.

"Geni. I think the word you're looking for is Geni." A younger man walked up.

"M'k sma'tass, how 'bout ya git us ta tha Flo-da line?" His Massachusetts accent came out almost as strong as the smell of his cigarette. The younger man scoffed but pulled out a large paper map and a red Sharpie before marking where they were and where they needed to go.

If they're going to Florida, that's probably where I don't want to go. I thought before I closed Allie's eyes, kissed her forehead, and slipped back under the fence, heading into the woods in search of a store to maybe find a map of my own.

[spectrophobias]

@dollhidden asked: “Get away get away… get away…” — Hannah for Josh!! Maybe an au after the prank, where she stays in the house?

why had he had so much to fucking drink? no, scratch that, because he should have been able to drink himself into a blackout in his own damn house! he was only the oldest by a tiny bit, did that make him lodge babysitter or something? because it shouldn't have! was everyone here stupid?

but of course, none of that applies to his baby sisters. josh is their babysitter, sort of, by nature of being their older brother. maybe he's getting a little too old to be in charge of them anymore, but he doesn't think he'll ever stop being so protective. if they called, he would come, sure as the world would keep on turning.

he does sort of wish he'd had less to drink though. obviously, any hopes of a fun and chill night have been blown completely out of the fucking water. just dragged right to shore and shotgunned in the face, apparently, because god forbid they all just have a good time.

he'd had to read the note beth had shoved in his face at least three times before it had processed, but when it had, josh had been livid. whatever stupid plan they had brewing, that note was way too girly to have been from mike, and hannah was too innocent to pick up on it. jesus.

even though he had gotten up fast enough to tumble his chair, taken the steps upstairs two at a time, making beth move in double time to keep up, they weren't in time to head it off. it's worse than he had expected too, almost everyone is there, and josh really feels like he's about to blow a fucking gasket. what the hell is supposed to be funny about something like this?!

he can't help it, his first instinct is to punch mike in the fucking face. his first instinct is to do a lot worse than that, actually, and he would have if the girls hadn't immediately started trying to separate them after that first swing. he doesn't exactly want to hit one of the girls, but they all deserve so much worse than this. he's going to have to think big about this one, he realizes, to get all of them back for this. he'll do worse than a bruised jaw eventually, that's a guarantee.

"OUT!!" even without the threat of physical violence, the room quickly clears, nobody wanting to get caught in the crossfire next. josh has never had the greatest temper, but he also doesn't yell like this very often either. he tucks them all away in his memory as they file out the door, everyone but chris and sam. he feels a hell of a lot less drunk now, but he still doesn't want to forget. they aren't going to just treat his sister like that, no way in hell.

"hannah, breathe." usually, it's the other way around, with hannah or beth urging him to slow down, take a breath. he has to keep it together now, because if he goes on a rampage, that will probably just upset hannah more. he has to try and keep his head here, actually act like the big brother. it's easier now that it's only himself and the twins, but he can still feel his heart pounding, full of adrenaline and rage. he's got half a mind to kick everyone out and tell them to find somewhere else to hunker down for the rest of the night-- there's a cabin out there somewhere, isn't there? he wants to go full scorched earth, but not until he's positive that hannah is okay.

"i'll get it all taken care of. don't worry, han." he promises, his jaw set like he really means business. he won't let them get away with this. he pulls his sleeves down over his hands, trying to gently daub away her tears. "they're just a bunch of idiots. they'll get what's coming to them."

[minefield-of-a-ninja]

Prompt(s): 1) "Have you ever licked a lamppost in winter?" 2) "Oh, what a beautiful bloodbath." "Don't forget the glitter!" 3) "Patience is a virtue." "Not right now, it isn’t!"

Characters: Sam Winchester x Rowena Macleod (implied), Dean Winchester, Castiel

Warnings/Tags: couple of f-bombs, weechesters

Words: 970

+++

“Ever lick a lamppost in winter?”

The air is cold and damp, and every word uttered from Dean’s lips is escorted by breath turned to icy mist.

“I saw the movie, butt head,” Sam answers, shoving his hands deeper in his Carhartt pockets.

“What movie?” Dean asks.

“The Christmas one where the kid gets double-dog dared to lick a lamppost, and they have to call the fire department, and then he goes back to class with his tongue wrapped in a bandage?” Little Sammy rolls his eyes as he and his big brother walk to the school they’re attending this month.

Dean laughs, tossing his closed pocket knife up in the air and catching it repeatedly. “A Christmas Story,” he says with a laugh. “What a classic. ‘Fra-gee-lay! It’s Italian!’” He laughs again, and Sam echoes.

“So, no, I’ve never done it,” Sam answers as they round the corner into the schoolyard. “And I’m not gonna either.”

Across the yard, they see the school bully pushing some skinny little kid who's wearing thick glasses. Sam and Dean were just talking about the skinny kid last night on their walk back to the hotel. Not like they identify with him or anything.

They look at each other; Dean smirks, and Sam arches a brow before they continue toward the ruckus.

“Hey, shithead,” Dean calls out, dropping his bag to the ground between himself and Sam as they near the bully and his sphere of sycophants.

The bully straightens up as he shoves the skinny kid one more time before squaring his shoulders and stalking toward Dean. “Who the hell are you?” the bully asks, looking Dean up and down with a sneer.

“Oh, I’m Dean,” he answers with a grin as he looks around at the suddenly baffled crowd, bolstering his hungry ego.

Before Sam can intervene, Dean’s projected (to Sam only since he’s seen it so many times) right hook knocks the bully flat on his ass before connecting his steel toe with the kid’s jaw.

+++

Blood spills, and the fires of Hell begin to pour into the space like lava. It’s hot and putrid smelling, and Dean is just really fucking sick of all this gross shit day in and day out.

This witch is one more in a long line of idiots who think opening the gates of Hell as widely and as permanently as possible is a super awesome idea.

“Just hold on, Dean,” Sam says. “It has to be at the exact moment.”

Sam and Rowena are back at the bunker, ready to pull Dean out of there as soon as he administers the potion.

“It has to be released by the first-born son,” Rowena uttered with mock sympathy as she handed the bottle to Dean.

“Sure,” Dean said. “Just make sure ya got a firm hold on that lifeline back here to drag me out.” He turns toward the glowing portal. “Don’t get distracted with the tonsil hockey.”

Dean grinned when he heard Rowena scoff behind him as he jumped into the rift.

Someone's speaking Latin and another language that Dean’s heard but doesn’t care to understand. He rolls his eyes and waits for the correct phrase. The one he was told to wait for.

And then she says it: “Oh, what a beautiful bloodbath!” the witch sing-songs and twirls, her skirts, rising and flowing in waves.

Dean jumps into action. “Don’t forget the glitter, bitch,” he says, unleashing the potion sent with him by Rowena.

He can almost see Rowena’s glossy lips purse and that dimple deepen in disapproval of his language and general disdain for her kind from where she sits safely in the library back at the bunker.

“No offense,” he mutters under his breath.

“None taken, you uncultured little swine,” Rowena answers, miles separating them, but communication is clear as a blue-bird day, thanks to Rowena’s magic.

“Guys,” Sam says with a sigh. “Dean? Did it work?”

“Yeah,” Dean grunts as the blood and fires roll back to Hell, and the witch disintegrates before his eyes. “Now, pull me back. I need a beer. Fuck.”

+++

“Patience is a virtue,” Castiel says, placing a palm on Sam’s forehead. “Or so I’ve heard.” He mutters, seemingly concentrating on his task of healing Sam or trying to show off his newly obtained human references, Dean isn’t sure.

“Not right now, it isn’t,” Dean whispers, scanning their surroundings as their attackers — vampires to be specific — begin to close in. “Can you speed it up a little, Cas?!”

“I’m trying,” Cas seethes, and then Sam blinks his eyes open, wild and awake. His face is clear of blood and wounds.

Sam pops up to sit and then shouts. “Dean! Behind you!”

Dean stands tall and spins, swings his hatchet at just the right height to take the vamps head off, and the three of them are back in action.

They clear out the nest, trudge back to the Impala, and then drive to their hotel room. Sam and Dean each shower, each employing Dean’s new favorite travel toy, the “Happy Hour In The Shower” beer holder. (When he bought it, Sam rolled his eyes, but even he has since found the simple joy and usefulness in it just as Dean said it would be, especially for the “low, low price of $12.97!”)

As they settle back with their individual comforts, TV on some banal procedural drama, volume low, Dean recalls Cas’s sentiment from earlier in the evening.

Patience is a virtue – just... sometimes he forgets, and sometimes he can’t find it. Sometimes, his little brother is dying before his eyes, and all he can think to do is scream and rage.

Even if Cas doesn’t understand the concepts of patience, time, and space — not how humans do, anyway — Cas understands that Dean needs it and needs him.

And that’s the real virtue.

MJ's SPN Fanfiction