#he would barely let Sammy out of his sight wanting to catch up and be a better older brother than how he used to be at this age

[nexilu]

I love time travel fanfics so much, like when one of the boys goes in their past body. I could totally see Dean waking up in his past body. He is completely confuse at first but when he realise what is happening, he takes a look at Sam and see a short boy with messy brown hair and innocent eyes free from any pain, he hasn’t saw them like that for years…

Dean gets SO nostalgic for the innocent, curious, moody kid his little brother used to be, he would want to protect him at all cost becoming even more overprotective than his past self and past!Sam would be like: wtf is wrong with you ???

[samwinchesterswifu]

Linger (Sam Winchester x Reader) Angst

Season 4 x Episode 21 - When The Levee Breaks

Song Inspo: "Linger" by The Cranberries

Warnings: Sam being an asshole & Demon blood drinkin

MINORS DNI

A/N: this one is shit but i had to get something out there. *italics are flashbacks

Word Count: 1360

Summary: Locking Sammy up in the panic room was something she didnt want to do, but she needed to protect the boy she loved, even if he seemingly didnt love her.

“What do you mean Sammy has demon blood in him?” She seethes towards Dean as she tries to understand the conversation unfolding in hushed tones.

“Look, that’s all I know from what Dad told me. I couldn’t keep this a secret anymore.” Dean states, hand in his hair in frustration.

“And you decided to me? Of all people?” She asks bewildered.

“Yes, because we both know that you’re his only hope.” Dean sighs.

“Your brother doesn’t love me, he’s made that very clear.” She scoffs.

“He does, he does deep down and he’s terrified.” Dean grunted. She shakes her head at his comment.

“Okay, so what do we need to do?” She asks.

The memory played loudly in her head as she sits on the stairwell of Bobby’s basement. Sam had gotten to far with the demon blood consumption and she was forced to lock him in the panic room to help him detox. But her heart ached at the wretched sounds of his screams. Tears softly fell upon her cheeks as she cried listening to his pain. She was so in love with this man, this boy that had no idea what he was getting himself into. But she was so angry with him choosing a demon over her.

Trying to juggle her keys, phone, and drink in hand, she managed to successfully unlock the motel door of the room they were sharing. Only to look up and to see Sam feeding on Ruby. Dropping her drink catches Sam’s attention, making him jerk away and poof, Ruby was gone. She couldn’t have believed what she had witnessed. It was like some sick sex act the two had engaged in with their clothes on.

“Y/N, I can-uh I can explain,” Sam says rising to his feet. Wiping away the red off his lips.

Without saying a word to him, she pushes past him and grabs her duffle. Preparing to leave him, and Dean for good. Too fed up with the situation. But as she turns to leave, Sam catches her arm in a tight grip.

“You can’t,” Sam whispers through choked tears.

“Not you too.” Sam had let a few tears stain his cheeks. Making her own throat become rock solid at the sight of the boy she loved crying.

“Then it has to stop Sammy,” she whispers to him. Barely meeting his eyes.

“You know I can’t,” he responds.

“I can’t keep doing this Sammy, play this mind games of yours. You’ve known that I love you yet you play me like a damn dog,” she replies. Her own tears brimming at all the turmoil she’s experienced.

Sammy sighs, dropping his head low.

“I know,” he whispers. His voice seemingly sounding broken.

“But you know that I’ve stayed away to protect you, that’s all I’m doing Y/N. I cant let you get consumed with me.” Sam’s voice was stern but warm.

“I would rather be consumed by you, or with you, then be away from you,” she responded, grabbing his chin to have him look towards her. Caressing his cheek, and whipping away the tears.

Sammy’s screams pull her out of her thoughts. Grabbing on to her left flannel pocket, squeezing. God, it truly hurt her heart to hear him.

“Y/N?” Sam calls out to her.

“Y/N!” Sam yells again. Pounding on the door of the panic room.

As she rose to try to comfort him somehow, the door to upstairs opens with Dean standing at the top of the stairs. Sam calls out to her again, and Dean shakes his head. Offering his hand to her.

“Dean, I-I can’t,” she says through choked tears.

“You need a break, Bobby has a bed made for you, please, I got this for a while.” Dean replies still holding out his hand.

She sighs, and begins to make her way upstairs, grabbing onto Dean’s hand as he helps her up. Bobby instructs her way to go, that it was safe. Nodding, she makes her way upstairs to take a short nap. That’s all she told herself, a short nap.

Closing her eyes, she opens them again.

Only to find herself sitting on a park bench. A head of her, was a younger version of herself. She remembered this day. She had snuck away from her father to meet Sam. She must’ve been 15 here. She watches herself closely. Smiling at the necklace her younger self was toying with. It was a simple single pearl necklace that Sam had managed to get to her.

But there was a sudden gust of wind, making her jump she realized that Castiel was next to her now.

“Really Cas?” She asked. This was a habit of the angel to check up on her sometimes when dreaming.

“I just wanted to see if you were alright.” Cas stated bluntly.

“Where are we?” He asks, looking around and then his eyes settling on her younger self siting on the play set steps.

“Shh, just watch.” She replies. Castiel nods in agreement.

“Hi angel,” Sam’s voice comes from behind her younger self, making her jump from her seat.

Turning around, she notices Sam holding a few picked road-side flowers in a make shift bouquet.

“Oh Sammy, they’re beautiful,” she gushes, grabbing them and giving them a sniff.

Sam sheepishly smiles at her, digging his hands deep in his pocket.

“I didn’t know Sam was like this.” Castiel states. Looking at her curiously. She sighs.

“He wasn’t always,” she replies. A twinkle of fondness rested on her voice.

The two of them watched as the younger Sam and her return to steps of the play set. The two younger versions chatting and getting caught up on their lives. At some point, Sam had made a bold move, and captured her hand in his, making younger her blush deeply.

She goes to turn to say something to Cas, only to see that he had left her dream without realizing. Shrugging her shoulders, she turns to see younger Sam in front of her.

“Y/N!” He screams.

Suddenly she sits up in the bed she was sleeping in. Movement down stairs makes her suspicious, prompting her to grab her gun from the bed side table, and she makes her way down. She hears commotion outside and opens the door to see Sammy had escaped and Bobby laying unconscious. Sammy holding on to the barrel of a shot gun that presumably Bobby had held.

“Sammy, come on, we just need to get you downstairs,” she tells him, gun still drawn.

“Are you kidding?” He scoffs, eyes wild and stricken.

“Sammy, please. I don’t want to hurt you,” she responds hoarsely. Tears threating to escape again.

A sickening laugh leaves Sam’s lips. The sound causing a rift in her stomach that made her feel like she was going to be sick.

“You’re not gunna hurt me?” Sam walks up to her.

Hesitantly, she closes her eyes and shoots towards his direction. Sam’s laugh echoes through the salvage yard as he grabs on to her gun. She begins to wrestle with him for control before the gun awkwardly slips from her grasp. Sam points the gun at her. Making her swallow the lump that had formed in her throat.

“Do it.” She states harshly.

Sam cocks his head in confusion.

“You’d be totally fine with me doing this right now? Killing you?” He asks, and she nods in response.

“If you let me go, I will hunt you down Samuel.” She states harshly while starring into his eyes.

“Fine, come find me then.” Sam replies. Before she could respond, Sam’s fist comes flying towards her. Closing her eyes, she loses consciousness on impact.

The sound of a rusted car engine sputtering to life jolts her awake. Realizing she was on the graveled ground outside, she begins to push herself up. Just as a car comes flying by her. Confused, she looks to see Sam in the driver’s seat as he turns out of the drive way and booking it down the road. Gritting her teeth, she hobbles her way towards Bobby, hoping that the old man was still alive.

[spn-etc]

Once in a Blue Moon

Dean Winchester x Reader

Author Note: My first attempt at a reader insert. I enjoyed this one, and it's given me inspiration for more reader inserts for different characters. Send a message my way if you want to see more for particular characters

Summary: You've gone out to track down the creature indicated in a mauling revealed on the nightly news. Your misadventure lands you in the hospital and has you confronting feelings you have never cared to reveal to Dean, whom you still have feelings for.

Mainly fluff, could be considered a hurt!fic?

“Isn’t it obvious?” you say. 

You’d been badly cut, a gash opened up from your hip down the length of your thigh. Dean Winchester had managed to get you just in the nick of time. Past midnight on that full moon, a blue moon in late November. It was the sort of cold night that cut you to the bone, and the trees were like pitchforks on a hunt in Ohio. 

The hunt. You’d been told to stay out of it; it wasn’t your job. You should be on your merry way. But for every time he was on the road with Sam, away from you just one more time, the days and nights grew harder. You wished it was easier to tend the bar, pour another scotch and shoot the breeze with your regulars. Maybe take someone else home this time. It meant nothing.

 Then, you saw the reports on the news. This was not the animal attack that you had heard of before. So, for one last time, you took your dad’s old revolver. It was the one he made you swear never to use. You learned all throughout your short life that you're bad at keeping promises. It’s two of the men in your life you’ll have disappointed, if you can live to see another sunrise. Loaded up with silver bullets, and still familiar to you after what felt like ages, you drove that Ford down the winding roads that went from asphalt to gravel. Just this time, you say. They’re going to underestimate what they’re dealing with, as usual. And, there in the shadows stood the beast. Blood red eyes and the body of an agile mountain lion, but twice its size. You keep your revolver ready, getting out of the monster’s direct line of sight. And you cock the gun. “Sam,”cries the voice you’ve heard so many times before. “Sammy!” The voice was farther off. A rustle in the opening of the trees, and there’s not one but two of the things. There’s no time to lose and you hold the old revolver up. You almost have it. And, that’s when it hits you. 

Your memory is hazy about what happened next. You vaguely remember the voices of the Winchesters. Dean’s voice calling out to you. And a searing pain shooting through your body. The rest was complete darkness. 

And here you are at the Dupont Memorial Hospital, in a hospital gown, and hooked up to a machine. Sam had left you and Dean alone to talk to one of the nurses. 

“You’re absolutely nuts, you know that right?” 

“Not any more than either of you guys,” you say from the hospital bed.

Those two green eyes burn holes in your skull, as Dean gets closer to you, until he’s close enough for you to count the freckles across his face.  “God, (Y/N), what did you expect was going to happen? You told me you’d stopped all of this. You know what's out there. I thought that your dad’s death would show you-”

“I know what happened and not a day goes by that it doesn’t remind me, Dean. Every damn night, it’s the same. I can feel it-”

“What’s the same?” Dean says, and the worry is even more apparent in his face. 

“Nothing, nothing.” You feel your voice rising, tense at the idea of Dean catching you out again. It’s not something you like to talk about, least of all someone who hurls himself into conflict. You’d find other ways to deal with it. 

“No, it's something. C’mon! Is it to do with that demon? What is it, (Y/N)?” 

Dean Winchester’s not one to let things show. You know there’s more than he lets on, than even you let on. He’s close enough now that you can make out the curl of his lashes and the bare trace of a cut just above his brow. You can see the roughness of his hands, as he brushes your hair tenderly away from your face. It’s a dead giveaway that Dean Winchester’s stressed out. it feels like ages since he was this close. Since the last time you picked up Dad's gun. For the first time in awhile, you can look him directly in the eyes. What’s different is blurted out into the open, and you find yourself saying something that had never been said before. 

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“What?”

“I thought after coming all this way, and after everything that happened, it would finally click. That I love you, Dean."

Dean’s brow is furrowed for a split second, and then his features start to soften. You hadn’t broken your eye contact with him, up to now. But, the situation is overwhelming enough that you find yourself looking away. You return your gaze just enough for Dean to close the gap between you. The kiss is surprisingly gentle for such a tense situation, his rough lips warm against yours, and maybe it was the meds pulling you under but the sensation left you almost dizzy, and shivering. You fell into it, just as he pulled away. He laughed, and you felt that this would never happen again. 

[cringemesstickles]

Sleeping On The Job

(TickleTober Day 9: Wake Up!)

Summary: Dean is sleeping while Sam does all the research.

Word Count: 1187

A/N: I wrote this while on call with some friends and it’s kinda messy… I’m also not used to doing lee!Dean, but I’m trying to get more used to it :D

———————————————————

Sam’s eyes were already threatening to close as they tried to stay focused on the words.

It had only been a few hours into their research session and the younger Winchester already felt like beating himself over the head just to get a few seconds of rest. If they could just figure out WHAT they were hunting, they could track it down, kill it, and be on their merry way. He just had to stay awake…

Despite his weariness, the youngest Winchester forced himself to stay conscious, flipping page after page like he had no other choice. Then, he saw it. Or rather he read it…

His eyes lit up with relief. He slammed his hands on the table and propped himself up, all sleepiness leaving his body as the words sunk in. He was eager to tell his older brother, who had been researching in an armchair on the other side of the room.

“Hey, get this! So, the campers heard their friends call-” He paused when he heard a snore on the other side of the room.

“Dean?” He called, but he didn’t receive an answer.

His gaze wandered from the table to the small living area. Sure enough, Dean was comfortably reclined, his head tipped back against the chair as he snored.

The younger Winchester’s expression instantly morphed into a scowl.

Typical… of course Dean was sleeping instead of ACTUALLY helping for once.

“Dean.” Sam grumbled, only to receive no response.

Dean was out cold, his jaw slack and mouth wide open. The sight boiled Sam’s blood a bit. His brother was over there napping while he broke his back searching for answers to their mystery.

His eye twitched and he tried again. “Dean!”

But Dean just continued to snore, unbothered by his brother’s calls.

That was the final straw.

Sam got out of his chair, the legs screeching against the wooden floors, though that didn’t seem to disturb Dean’s rest either.

If his brother wanted to be a lazy pain, then Sam would just have to teach him a lesson. He casually pattered over, not bothering to tiptoe since the hunter didn’t seem to be waking any time soon.

When he reached the elder’s destination, he took one last look at the sleepy expression before making his move…

“WAKE UP!!” He shouted as he dug his fingers into the older man’s ribcage, wiggling between the bones and showing no mercy.

If nothing else woke him, the tickling sure did. The shorter hunter shot up and flailed like a fish out of water, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates as his sleep was rudely interrupted.

“SAMMY?! W-WHAT THE HEHEHELL?!”

Dean barked, arching his back and shoving at his brother’s hands. The reaction was more than satisfying to Sam.

“Seriously? Thought you could just sleep through the research and leave it all to me?” Sam huffed.

The tickling was relentless and sudden, giving the older Winchester no time to adjust to the sensations. He was barely awake and he was already screeching like a banshee… Sam could’ve at least had the decency to start with a less ticklish spot. His little brother could be such an ass… unlike him, who napped and let the younger do all the boring work.

“DAMMIT, SAMMY! STOHOHOP!!”

The younger brother let out a snort, enjoying having the upper hand. He should sneak attack his brother more often…

scribbling up to Dean’s armpits and scratching at the hollows. The change in spots tore a frantic shriek from the older man’s throat.

“Are you kidding?! I have so much revenge I need to catch up on!” Sam grinned, scribbling up to Dean’s armpits and drilling his thumbs into the sensitive hollows. The change in spots tore a frantic shriek from the older man’s throat.

It took almost as much effort to look annoyed as it did to stay awake.

How was he supposed to stay irritated when his big brother’s wailing laughter was echoing off the walls like that?

“You deserve every second of this, jerk!” He exclaimed, no longer able to keep the grin off his face. Sure, he was still pretty ticked, but he definitely felt some relief flowing through him as his fingers scurried up and down Dean’s sides, over his stomach, and up to his armpits again.

But then Sam decided he wanted to hear his brother REALLY scream… he deserved it after all.

The elder could feel the taller’s nimble fingers scampering down his flanks and hovering threateningly in one spot… just above his hips.

Dean’s eyes widened and his flushed cheeks went pale.

“S-Sammy, you wouldn’t…” He muttered, a shiver shooting down his spine as his eyes latched onto his hips as if watching them would keep them safe.

There was almost a pleading look in his gaze…

Sam gave a cheeky grin. He would almost look sweet and innocent if he weren’t threatening Dean’s most ticklish spot.

“Oh…” He smirked, raising his hands and raising them so they floated right above the bones.

“I would.”

With that, he latched onto his brother’s hips, drilling into the divots and shooting electric sparks through his body. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t flinch at the frantic yell, followed by loud, boisterous cackles.

“SAMMY, YOU SONOVA BIHIHITCH!!!” Dean bucked his hips and kicked his legs, shoving at his brother’s hands and doing whatever he could to save his horribly ticklish hips from the torment.

Sam snorted, continuing the playful torture. “You shouldn’t really be name-calling in this position…”

“SUCK A- OH MY GOD, STOHOHOP!!!”

As the vengeful attack went on, Sam felt a sense of justice… he also felt far less annoyed.

Eventually, Dean was wheezing and gasping for breath, so Sam decided to have mercy. He pulled his hands away and gave a smug smirk, crossing his arms and sitting on the couch.

“I don’t wanna hear you bitching about my little naptime after that whole debacle…” The elder grumbled, wiping a hand over his face.

The younger hunter simply rolled his eyes and leaned into the couch.

“Whatever… can you just try to help out a little more? It kinda feels like I do all the work sometimes…”

Sam’s admission made Dean feel defensive, but he could tell his brother was serious… was he really that bad? He couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty.

He gave a reassuring smile. “Yeah… sure, Sammy.”

“Wait- really?” Sam asked, shocked. He expected Dean to fight back more…

Dean nodded, giving his brother a pat on the shoulder.

“Yeah… I guess I was being a bit of a jerk. But that doesn’t mean you’re not a little bitch for tickling the crap outta me.” He smirked.

The younger hunter blinked before accepting the situation. His brother was ACTUALLY taking responsibility for once.

“Well, anyway… I found out what we’re up against.” He said with a proud expression, sitting up straighter as he prepared to share his findings.

Dean raised a brow before leaning back, giving Sam the floor. “Alright… shoot away, Sammy.”

With a confident grin, Sam leaned forward…

“So get this…”

[hb-writes]

Holiday Spirit

Summary: When the Winchesters decide to take a few days off hunting around Halloween, Nora gets in the spirit of the holiday and decides to do a little decorating.

Prompt: "If I go outside and find my car covered in stringed lights I'm smacking you."

Characters: Dean Winchester & Nora Winchester

Warnings: just the smacking referenced in the prompt.

Nora stilled her fingers, the piece of candy she held in her hands half-way unwrapped as she studied her brother as he finally stirred. He looked grumpy as hell, as if Dean was already dressed in his Halloween costume—a miserable old curmudgeon. 

A curmudgeon who was already complaining even though he had yet to open his eyes. 

“What’s all that noise?”

Nora bit her tongue to keep from asking him ‘what noise?’ considering that the last fifteen minutes was the quietest she had been all morning. She’d even managed to stop the microwave before it started beeping after rewarming her coffee.

Decorating had been much louder, but all of her flitting about the motel room and the microwaving hadn’t woken her brother. She had checked each time, wincing and tip-toeing to his bedside after every slightly too loud noise she made. 

He had slept like the dead through all of it, something she supposed he deserved seeing as they’d been driving for so long and he had refused to share the burden with his siblings, insisting they both rest. But go figure, Dean would wake up at the sound of junk food—Nora’s brothers both seemed to have a hypersonic radar for that…for vastly different reasons, of course, but they both seemed to always know when Nora had something delicious and terrible for you in her grasp. 

Dean sat up suddenly when Nora didn’t answer, but before his glare could land on her face, he caught sight of all of the decorations—the fake cobwebs and glow-in-the-dark skeletons, the miniature ghosts and bats dangling from the ceiling…as if they didn’t get enough of that crap outside of the motel rooms they so frequently called home.

“Where did all this crap come from?” Dean was still taking it all in.

“Dollar store,” Nora answered quietly, suddenly a bit sheepish as she confirmed that it was indeed a bunch of crap she had strung up around their barely 2-star motel room. 

“Here, have some breakfast,” she said as she tossed the half-opened candy to him. 

Dean finished unwrapping and popped it into his mouth without complaint, just as Nora hoped he would.

“And before you start lecturing, Sammy took me—” Nora reached for a second paper coffee cup, holding it out— “and we got you coffee. You might want to reheat it.” 

Dean pulled himself out of the bed, the movements slow, as if he was still sore. As if he still needed another sixteen hours of sleep. Good thing they were planning on hanging out for a few days, assuming another job didn’t present itself, at least.

Nora hoped one wouldn’t. Her brothers were exhausted. She was exhausted. She just wanted to exist for a few days. It would’ve been nice to just exist for a few days somewhere a little nicer, a little more comfortable—at Uncle Bobby’s, maybe—but she wasn’t going to be picky. Relaxing was relaxing even if the motel room was shitty. At least the town had a nice little coffee house.

Dean pulled the coffee from Nora’s hand as he passed her, standing at the counter a few steps behind her, his back to her for a few moments as he fussed with the ancient microwave. 

He’d let the microwave beep, zoning out long enough that he didn’t catch it before the time ran out, the incessant alarm so loud in the little motel room that Nora cringed. Dean took a sip of the hot liquid, sighing a bit as the flavor hit his tongue. It was re-warmed via microwave, a method of preparation that probably impacted the quality and taste of the coffee, but Dean could tell it was a decent brew. It wasn’t any of that gas station crap they were used to. 

He took another sip before setting the cup on the counter and turning to his sister. Without a word, Dean snatched the candy bag from her lap, his hand digging through to find his favorite. 

Nora bit down her complaint as his fingers retrieved the last four chocolates—they were her favorite, too. He set them down on the counter beside his coffee cup before tossing the bag back on the table. A bag full of second-best options that she didn’t particularly like. Still, she didn’t complain. The last hunt had been rough and Nora was trying to keep things light. Fun. Fighting over chocolate bars before he’d even finished a cup of coffee wasn’t fun.

“So…do you like the decorations?” she asked.

Dean’s eyes slid down to her as he opened his third piece of chocolate, an eyebrow raised. 

Nora slid her foot from the chair where she had propped it up and pressed it into Dean’s thigh. He shifted his balance to accommodate the shove.

“Aw, c’mon, Dean. You said we were staying a few days, so I figured we might as well get into the holiday spirit.”

“Holiday spirit?” Dean asked, fingering the line of multicolored string lights she’d put up along the kitchen. “I think you’ve got the wrong holiday, bucko.” 

Nora rolled her eyes and in rebuttal, she reached for the two pieces of candy Dean had yet to devour. She figured if he was awake enough to make fun, he was awake enough for her to take back some of the candy. Dean’s hand slammed down over hers before she could pull them into her grasp. He raised an eyebrow and she sighed, a show of defeat that had him releasing his grip on her. 

Nora set her feet back up on the chair beside her, folding her arms across her chest. It had been hard enough convincing Sam to even buy the candy and she’d barely get any of the good ones now that Dean was hogging them. She should’ve known better and hid a few away for herself.

“Quit your pouting,” Dean said as he tossed one of the remaining candies on the table in front of her. 

Dean couldn’t help but smile as Nora’s face lit up a bit and she quickly opened the candy, setting it in her mouth. He teased and he played the grump, but Dean was glad that his sister still got excited about stuff like this—stuff like Halloween decorations and candy and the fact that this rat hole of a motel somehow had extra channels so she could watch all those silly Halloween movies she’d watched as a kid. He was glad that Sam and Nora had been so enthusiastic about sitting down to watch It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown the night before. He was glad that the two of them had the capacity to be nostalgic for childhood even when he didn’t.

Dean strung his finger along the slowly flashing lights affixed to the counter once again. “Since when are Christmas lights Halloween decorations?” 

“They’re string lights, Dean. Not Christmas lights. Indoor-outdoor. Multi-holiday use. They’re very versatile. And I like them,” she said as she took a sip of coffee to wash down the chocolate.

Dean snorted. “Yeah, well, if I go outside and find my car covered in stringed lights I'm smacking you."

Nora gasped, choking on the coffee as it went down wrong. She forced herself to laugh at the end of her coughing, as if Dean’s words were funny to her, as if it was nothing more than a joke. 

Nora knew the words weren’t an idle threat though. Dean wouldn’t hesitate to hurt anyone who hurt his Baby. Not that she had really hurt his baby… The hand prints smeared across the windows were nothing more than fake blood. And the pumpkin-shaped antenna ball was easy enough to remove… 

But Dean was staring at her, waiting for something. Waiting for confirmation.

Nora snorted. “I didn’t put any stupid stringed lights on your car, Dean. I’m not an idiot. How would I even plug them in?” 

It wasn’t technically a lie, and Dean seemed content with her answer as he brought the coffee cup to his lips again, but Nora wondered how long it would be before he went to check. Nora had been adamantly against going for a run with Sam, but just now she wished she had agreed to go, if only to avoid being the only one here when Dean saw the car.

“We’ll, now that you’re up, I’m going to take a shower,” Nora said as she stood from the table, trying not to move too quickly, trying to take her time with gathering her things before heading for the bathroom.

As Nora closed the bathroom door, she heard her brother take up her spot at the table, his hand once again fishing in the bag of candy. 

Her spot at the table where one could see out the window perfectly, the Impala perfectly visible between the threadbare curtains…

She had just started the water when Dean roared her name. 

Actually roared. Nora cringed at the sound, but stepped into the warming water anyway. The flimsy door and fact that she was showering would at least offer her some protection. Dean wouldn’t come in, no matter how angry he was. No matter how much he wanted to throttle her.

Nora could stay there until the water ran cold, until Sam returned.

That, she decided, was the best course of action. To stay here until Sam got back. Until he could remind Dean that even though she could be a pain in the ass, he loved his sister.

That was the hope, at least.

Supernatural (Bye, Bye, Apple Pie) Masterlist

[moonlight0934]

Sam wakes up to a fire in his stomach. It’s dark, and he can feel something crunchy underneath any bare skin. His mind is running awfully slow, and it takes him a lot longer to realize what’s going on than it should. 

The woods. I was shot. 

He shifts, trying to climb to his feet, but it only aggravates his wounds. Sam’s vision whites out as the pain takes over everything. He’s not sure how long it takes for his brain to start working again, but when it does, he decides to take a different approach. He starts trying to crawl in the general direction of the road. The twigs scrape his arms, the fire moving from his stomach to his chest and legs. Numbness is quick to follow, which most normal people would be happy for. Sam can’t help but start to panic. 

If I don’t get to the road, I’m going to bleed out in the middle of nowhere. There will be zero chance of anyone finding me since Dad and Dean obviously aren’t coming back. But if I keep going, it might lead to permanent damage. I guess that’s better than dead, but what will Dad do? What if it hit close to my spine? 

Sam sobs, his breath catching even more. It sends him into a coughing fit, and his vision only fades more with each choking gasp. He can’t even see far enough to realize that he’s almost at the road, and it’s in sight now. Not that it matters since he passes out, still unable to pull enough air into his lungs. 

Dean can’t sleep. It doesn’t matter how long he lays in bed. John is asleep by then, and Dean knows that he should try to sleep too. The idea of Sammy being lost in the woods continues to haunt him though. 

I know he can survive out there by himself. I should trust him, but what if something happened? What if the cops did find him, and they’re hurting him? 

Dean creeps out of bed. He’s still dressed from earlier, having changed into jeans and a t-shirt after his shower. He sneaks over to the door, grabbing his dad’s keys on the way over. He’s as quiet as possible until he’s driving out of the parking lot. At that point, even if John does wake up, he wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop Dean. 

Alright, game plan… What's my game plan? What if the police are still there? I guess I’ll just drive close to where we dropped Sammy off, and leave the car. Then I can look for him, and if the cops are still there, I’m just going to say that I’m looking for my little brother. It should work since they didn’t see my face earlier, and it isn’t even a lie. I could definitely get away with it. I mean, who wouldn’t be worried if they thought their brother ran away to the woods? 

Dean stops the car less than a mile away from where he left Sam earlier. It’s oddly quiet, and there aren’t any signs of the cops either. So, Dean starts by wandering near the treeline to see if Sam might have hid when the police showed up. After that, he heads back to where they dropped Sam off to see if he can pick up Sam’s trail. It’s pretty hard at first since it seemed he was trying not to leave footprints. However, he eventually finds a spot where it seems like Sam just took off running. So, he follows it, and freezes when he finds where it stopped. 

There’s a lot of blood seeping through the leaves, and there’s vomit nearby too. Dean can practically feel his heart stop when he sees it, and he has to take a few precious seconds to compose himself. Almost in a haze, he follows the trail from there. It’s obvious, because it looks like someone was dragging themselves across the ground. 

I don’t want anyone to be hurt, but please let this not have been Sammy. I don’t think I could handle it if something happened to him. It would be my fault. We left him here. It would explain why he wasn’t where we left him, and he didn’t try to find us. 

Dean shakes his head, pushing the thoughts out of his mind. He continues following the trail, which goes for way longer than anyone should be able to drag themselves after being shot. It reaches almost to the road, a dark figure laying prone at the end of it. Dean throws himself down, not even having to flip him over to know that it’s his brother. He does though, and almost throws up immediately. Blood is smeared across Sam’s face, which is as white as porcelain. Blood covers his clothes, and Dean can’t immediately tell if his chest is rising and falling. 

“Sammy?” he whispers, resting a hand gently on Sam’s chest. His other hand rests right above his pulse point as if he’s scared to even check. 

However, Sam’s chest continues to gently rise and fall under Dean’s hand. It’s hard for him to keep track of even with the close proximity. 

“Ok, you’re going to be fine, Sammy,” Dean whispers, his throat starting to feel like it’s closing up. 

He pulls his phone out of his pocket, dialing 911. He pulls Sam’s shirt up to see if he can tell the damage. His heart only sinks more when he sees the bullet wound in Sam’s abdomen. He pulls his jacket off, and presses it to wound as the call connects. 

“911, what’s your emergency?” 

“My brother was shot. I went to find him in the woods, and he’s covered in blood. He’s unresponsive, and it looks like he was hit in the abdomen.” He gives her the road, and about how far down the road, and how far into the woods they are.

“Alright, we have an ambulance on their way down there right now.” 

Dean hums, slipping the knife and strap off of Sam. He ends up grabbing his gun too. Then he races back to the car, throws both things in there. Then he grabs the first aid kit, and runs back to Sam. He’s still unresponsive, and Dean is too scared to do anything other than try to stop the bleeding. Tears drip down his face as Sam remains unresponsive underneath his hands. It feels like forever before he can hear sirens screaming down the road. 

The paramedics don’t take long to find them since Dean gave pretty specific instructions. Dean’s vision is going in and out, and his hold on consciousness is already fading. He’s completely disassociating by the time the ambulance has left. Then someone’s hand lands on his shoulder, and he jumps. 

“Hey, kid.” It’s one of the paramedics, who obviously stayed back. “Hey, they’re getting your brother to the hospital. I’m gonna stay here to take care of you. The police should be here soon. Can you walk with me back to your car?” 

Dean nods, the numb feeling still taking over his entire being. Once they get there, the paramedic puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder again. 

“Ok, my name is George. What’s yours?” 

“Dean.” 

“And your brother? Full name please.” 

“Samuel Winchester.” 

“Ok, and how old are you and your brother?” 

“Sammy’s only thirteen. I’m seventeen.” 

“Ok, and where are your parents?” 

“Dad’s still at the motel. He wasn’t worried about Sammy running off. It’s just us and our dad.” 

“Ok, well, either you can call your dad, or we can wait for the police to show up. Then they can call him after they talk to you. They’re going to want some answers, and I can tell how shaken up you are. I think you should call your dad, but I won’t make you.” 

Dean nods, reaching for his phone with bloody fingers. He shakily dials his dad’s number, putting it up to his ear with a sigh. John answers on the last ring. He sounds tired and annoyed. 

“Where are you, Dean?” 

“I went looking for Sammy. I was worried.” 

Dean stops to take a breath, trying not to sob. 

“I told you to leave it,” John growls. 

“He was shot sometime last night. He’d been lying in the forest for hours alone, and bleeding out. They took him to the hospital, but he looked so bad, Dad. He was still bleeding, and he wasn’t responding.” 

Dean sobs, unable to keep himself together anymore. Especially not with the view of Sam’s almost dead face lingering in his mind. John is silent for a few seconds. 

Then he says, “Dean, you need to calm down. I’ll be there in just a minute. The police aren’t there yet, are they? You haven’t said anything?” 

“Dad, Sammy is dying. You have to get down to the hospital right now!” Dean screams, continuing to cry. 

“Dean.” 

“The cops aren’t here yet.” 

“Ok, don’t say anything until I get there.” 

John hangs up before Dean can say anything else. So, he just continues crying, finding it harder to breathe. A hand lands on his shoulder again, and it’s barely enough to start to pull Dean back. He still doesn’t fully come back into himself until John kneels down in front of him. It takes him a second to realize that he’s on the ground. He throws his arms around John with a sob even though this man caused a lot of his grief. 

“Shhh.” 

“How did you even get here? I took your car.” 

“It doesn’t matter now. It’s ok. It’s all going to be ok.” 

“No it’s not. You didn’t see him. He was-” Dean pulls away from John, rage pulsing through him. “This is your fault!” he screams, pushing John back. 

John looks surprised. That’s when Dean notices that there are cops a few feet away, and they’re all looking at this scene with suspicious faces. Dean looks down. 

“Alright, let’s get your statements now. Mr. Winchester, why was your son alone in the woods during a police raid of a suspicious building?” One of the cops asks, stepping forward. 

“I’m not sure. I don’t think he knew about the police being there. He and I don’t always get along. We butt heads, especially since his mother died. It was a few years ago, and we’ve had a hard time seeing eye to eye since then. Because of that, he’s run away a few times before. Sammy has always been… more free spirited. I taught them how to camp, hike, and anything else that I thought they might need to know. When he runs away, he normally goes to some kind of forest, usually somewhere secluded. 

He didn’t know. My Sammy is normally really careful, and so I can’t imagine him putting himself into harm’s way for any reason aside from saving someone else. He’s a good kid.” 

“Then why did your other kid say it was your fault?” he asks, though it sounds more like he’s directing the question to Dean. 

Dean looks down. “We split up to look for him, but this was the first time that we couldn’t find him. I said we should go to the police, and Dad said we couldn’t do that till morning. He said that since we know he ran away, you couldn’t do anything. Didn’t think you would be able to do anything even then since he only ran away last night,” Dean explains, his voice thick. 

The cop hums, turning back to John. “Well, is that true?” 

“Yes. I didn’t think you would help. We were looking for him, but I didn’t think he was in any danger. Again, Sammy is a pretty safe kid. Not only that, he’s capable of defending himself. I never would have imagined that something like this would happen.” 

“Alright, well, we’ll have more questions later. For now, you should head down to the hospital.” 

John nods, pulling Dean with him to the Impala. 

Dean grips Sam’s hand, maybe harder than he should. He doesn’t think about it though. After all, the only things he can think about is how pale, still, and broken his brother looks. Sam’s hair is sticking to his forehead, and his eyes are stubbornly still closed. Not that Dean expected them to open any time soon, but the thought is enough to send him into hysterics again if he lets himself legitimately think about it. 

John is outside, talking to the doctor. Dean had half a mind to follow him, to hear everything the doctor says, because John might not tell him everything. However, he couldn’t make himself move from Sam’s side. He couldn’t take his eyes off of his baby brother, who is laying and dying in a hospital bed. 

You were alone in the woods for hours, and I won’t let you be alone here. I swear that I am going to be here for you, and I won’t leave you. 

“I’m so sorry, Sammy. I shouldn’t have let him talk me into leaving you there. I knew there had to have been a reason that you didn’t tell us. You wouldn’t put our lives at risk just to be petty. I’m so sorry,” Dean says, choking up again. 

Tears fill his eyes, and he puts his head against his and Sam’s hands. He continues whispering reassurances into Sam’s hand, trying to calm himself down, despite how obviously useless it is. He’s gone quiet by the time John comes back in. He sits down heavily in a chair across from Dean. He looks tired and annoyed. Dean ignores him, because this is still his fault. As much as Dean feels like he failed, he feels like John failed so much worse. 

“How long are you going to ignore me?” John asks, his tone and face set in anger. 

“All of this happened because of that knife, didn’t it? You wanted to risk leaving Sammy, because you were mad. You risked his life for something he didn’t do. It’s the fact that you’re a grown ass man, and you have the emotional maturity of a toddler. You blame us for everything. More often than not, you blame Sammy. You blame Sammy, because he won’t put up with you the way I will. You let this happen to him just to be spiteful.” 

“I didn’t know this was going to happen. I had no way of knowing this was going to happen. Either way, it wasn’t about the stupid knife.” 

“Sure it was. You just don’t want to admit that now. It was different saying that you left your kid in jail for ‘yanking your chain’, but it’s another thing to let your child bleed out in a forest alone for the same reason. ‘I didn’t know’ isn’t good enough, Dad. He’s dying, and it’s your fault. You don’t even feel bad either.” 

John stands up, glaring at Dean with enough intensity to break anyone else. 

“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me he’s not dying. Please tell me that he’s not dying,” Dean whispers, gripping Sam’s hand tighter. 

John’s face falls, and he drops back down. It’s almost like he just remembered that he had something more important to worry about. 

“They think the bullet shifted enough while he was trying to get to the road that it might have damaged his spine. We can’t be sure how that’s going to affect him until he wakes up, but he’s also at high risk for infection. All we can do now is wait and hope for the best,” John says, his gaze returning to the floor. 

The only thing keeping Dean from flying off of the handle is Sam’s cold hand still resting in his own hands. He presses a kiss to the back of Sam’s hand, his eyes full of tears. He doesn’t stop them, too tired and scared to pretend to be strong. 

Dean drops his bag near the door of the motel room with a sigh. He stayed at the hospital for two days waiting for Sam to wake up. Instead, Sam ended up with an infection, and Dean was left on edge as Sam’s body struggled to fight off the infection. He’s only here because John kicked him out, and told him to get some sleep. His dull eyes wander around the room before he heads to get a shower. Everything is exactly as it was when Dean left the other night, so he drops onto his messy bed once he’s done showering. He closes his eyes for just a second before his phone starts ringing. 

“Hello?” Dean asks, not even looking at the number. 

“Hey, I’m calling to check in. Your dad hasn’t been answering, and I tried calling Sammy a few minutes ago. I couldn’t get through to either of them, so I assume there’s an explanation for that,” Bobby says, sounding concerned. 

“Oh, yeah.” Dean sighs, closing his eyes again. 

He can hear Bobby’s breath catch, even more worried by Dean’s response. 

“Sam got hurt. He’s been in the hospital for a couple of days now. That’s probably why Dad isn’t answering either. He’s avoiding you.” 

“What did he do? Why wouldn’t he have just told me what happened? Is Sammy alright?”

“No, he’s not. He was shot in the woods two nights ago, and we left him there. I came back early the next morning even though Dad insisted that I shouldn’t. So, yeah, Sammy’s in the hospital, and we have no idea what’s going to happen. Dad probably didn’t call you, because he didn’t want to take responsibility for his actions. He can’t seem to accept that they hurt other people, specifically his sons.” Dean himself is surprised by how hard his voice is. 

Bobby is quiet on the other end of the phone till he clears his throat. 

“Ok, Dean, can you tell me exactly what’s wrong with Sam?” 

“He was shot in the stomach. Apparently there were complications that led to him developing sepsis. He wasn’t doing too well when I left the hospital an hour ago. I don’t know what to do, Bobby.” 

Dean sniffles, rubbing his nose harshly. 

“It’s alright, son. I’ll be there as soon as I can. We can stay on the phone if you want to.” 

“No, I’m going to take a nap. See if I can get some sleep. Can you come by the motel? To be honest, I’m not even sure I should have driven here. I can just stay here until you can come pick me up.” 

“Yeah, just tell me the name of the motel, and I’ll pick you up on my way over.” 

Dean offers him the name before hanging up without even saying bye. He ends up falling asleep since he’s exhausted from barely sleeping for days. Dean wakes up to someone knocking on the door, and he’s immediately alert, reaching for his gun. Then he realizes that he doesn’t even have it, and that it’s still in the car. He walks to the window, untensing when he sees Bobby standing outside. The door swings open, and Dean hugs Bobby. Bobby just wraps his arms around Dean, and lets him stay there for a few minutes. 

Then he whispers, “Let’s go see your brother.” 

Dean nods, and numbly follows Bobby to the car. It’s quiet the entire car ride. Bobby takes Dean to Sam’s room, and there’s obvious rage in John’s eyes when he sees them. 

“Stay here with yer brother. I’ll be here to check on you in a few minutes,” Bobby says before grabbing John’s arm, and dragging him out. 

Dean drops into a chair, taking in Sam. His face is red, and his breathing is labored. He’s still attached to too many machines, enough of them to make Dean’s heart hurt. 

“Please pull through, Sammy. I can’t do this without you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I’ll protect you, even from Dad, if you just come back to me. I know that he was the one monster I never even tried to keep you safe from, but I thought it would be fine. I didn’t know this would happen,” Dean says, absently rubbing his thumb across the back of Sam’s hand. 

Much to Dean’s surprise, Sam’s eyes crack open just a few minutes later. He looks at Dean, his eyes glazed over.

“Sammy?” 

“Dean?” Sam asks, his voice small and raspy from disuse. He sounds confused too. 

“Sam, hey, you’re ok. I’m so glad you’re awake,” Dean says, his voice cracking at the end. 

The corner of Sam’s mouth turns up. 

“It’s hot. Where are we?” 

“We’re in the ICU. Dad and Bobby just stepped out, but I’m sure they’ll be back soon. Do you want me to call a nurse? I should probably call a nurse.” 

Sam doesn’t say anything, but Dean grabs the call button anyway. A nurse comes in quickly, and she starts asking Sam questions. Dean doesn’t interfere, but he keeps a hold of Sam’s hand the entire time. Sam seems to get less and less confused as he fully wakes up, though it is clear that he’s still feeling affected by the fever. Eventually she finishes everything that she needs to do, and gives Sam a smile. 

“Do you know where your father went?” she asks Dean, who shrugs. 

“He went to talk to our Uncle Bobby.” 

“Ok, well, tell him to come to the desk so we can talk. Sam seems to be doing well though.” 

Dean nods, almost crying again. After she leaves, he turns back to Sam. 

“You hear that, Sammy? You’re going to be fine.” 

Sam gives Dean a strained smile. “So, what’s the damage?” he rasps, his eyes downcast. 

“Well, you were shot in the stomach, and you got sepsis. We have no idea how that’s going to affect you in the long run, but hopefully it won’t be a problem. She said you’re doing well, and you’ve only been here for a few days. So, you weren’t sick that long. They were worried about the bullet coming too close to your spine.” 

Sam sighs. “Yeah, I was worried about that too.” 

“How much do you remember?” Dean asks softly, his heart restricting. 

“All of it. I got shot while trying to warn you guys about the cops’ reinforcements. I have no idea when the first ones got there, or how they got past me. Afterwards, I threw up, passed out, and woke up in the woods alone. I tried to get to the road, because I figured I was out long enough that you guys were gone. It hurt too much, and I ended up passing out before I got there,” Sam says, not looking at Dean. His eyes are misty, and Dean is almost driven to tears again himself. 

“I’m so sorry, Sammy. I never meant for you to get hurt.” 

“So what happened?” 

“Dad and I were getting shot at. He said that it was going to be too dangerous for us to find you. We argued, but I let him leave you there. I went back later after he went to sleep, and found you near the road. I’m so sorry this happened, Sam.” 

Sam sighs. “Dean, it’s not your fault.” 

The door opens before Sam can continue. Bobby and John walk in, and John looks so angry. However, Bobby looks thrilled to see Sam awake. 

“Sammy, hey,” Bobby says, reaching out to brush Sam’s hair off of his forehead. 

“Dad, the nurses wanted to talk to you since Sammy woke up,” Dean says, not looking at John. He finds his hands shaking, and he’s unable to make himself stop. 

John storms back out, slamming the door behind himself. Sam visibly flinches, and Bobby raises an eyebrow. 

“Are you two alright?” he asks, his voice off though Dean can’t place why. 

“No, Bobby, I’m not fine. How could I be fine?” Sam snaps, tears falling down his face. 

Bobby hugs him gently. 

“It’s alright, son. We’re going to get you better, and then we’ll figure out what to do from there.” 

“Yeah, Sam, it’s gonna be fine. We’ll make sure that you’re alright,” Dean says, grabbing Sam’s hand again. 

Sam looks away, blinking tears away. 

“I’m tired,” he whispers. Dean knows he means tired of their dad, and of their life, but he doesn’t know how to respond to that. 

So, he decides on saying, “Then you should get some more sleep. You’ll feel better when you wake up.” 

Sam closes his eyes, deciding not to argue. Bobby and Dean are quiet until Sam’s breathing evens out. 

“Damn, you kids are going to be the death of me one of these days,” Bobby says, putting a hand on Dean’s arm.

Dean smiles lightly. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” 

Sam picks at the blanket as he waits for the doctor to come back with the results of his assessment. At least he seems to be able to feel everything, which Dean almost collapsed in relief over. Speaking of which, Dean left with John a couple of hours ago. Bobby is still sitting with Sam, but he can’t help but wonder what the other two are up to. 

“Do you think they’re coming back? I mean, hopefully I get to go home after this.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure they’ll be back. Also, you should be able to get out of here. You’re doing really well, kiddo.” 

Sam smiles, looking back down. 

“Yeah, after a week and a half, I’m getting antsy. I wasn’t even awake for the first couple of days, so I can’t imagine how the others were feeling.” 

Bobby nods, giving Sam a grin. “Well, we can go get ice cream after this if your brother and dad haven’t gotten back by the time you’re discharged. Though I will say that hospitals usually have a wait time for papers. So, it might be a little while before we can get going.” 

Sam sticks out his lip. “I want to get back to the motel so I can get a shower. My hair desperately needs to be washed. Dean even said that if I needed help with my hair, he could wash it in the sink. I’m not sure I want to do that, but I already have all those restrictions. With those, I’m not sure I could properly wash it myself.” 

“Yeah, that makes sense. Your wound still isn’t all better, so you shouldn’t even try. Just let your brother do it for ya,” Bobby says, a soft smile on his face. 

The doctor comes in, holding a clipboard. 

“Alright, Samuel. Your tests look good, and we’re good to get you out of here. You still have to follow all of the guidelines that we gave you before, so keep that in mind. Mr. Winchester, I trust that you’ll keep him on his meds. Make sure that he’s doing everything he’s supposed to,” the doctor says to Bobby, who just nods. 

“Alright then, I’ll grab your discharge papers, and we can get you out of here. It was wonderful meeting you, Samuel. Just remember to come back in for your check up in a week.” 

Sam nods, though he’s barely even listening. Bobby and Sam are in Bobby’s car half an hour later. 

“So, can we get ice cream before we meet with Dean and Dad?” 

“Of course we can,” Bobby says, starting his car. 

They go to the nearest ice cream shop. Sam gets rocky road ice cream, and he insists on buying Dean some mint ice cream. 

“Alright, but we’re not buying your daddy anything,” Bobby says, still smiling. 

Sam grins. “If you say so.” 

Dean is standing outside of the motel room, leaning against the wall. His face lights up when the car rolls into the parking lot. 

“Sammy, Bobby. Sorry it took us so long here. Dad is stress cleaning all of his weapons. I couldn’t handle the tension in there, but we can go in now,” Dean says as he walks over. He wraps a gentle arm around Sam, who immediately leans into his side. 

“I got you ice cream with Bobby,” Sam says, offering him the cup. 

Dean smiles, taking it. “Awesome.” 

John is cleaning weapons with everything spread over the beds. Sam’s eyes drift to the knife from the other week before looking at the floor. Dean puts a hand on his shoulder. 

“Sam, come here. We need to talk,” John says, motioning Sam over. 

Sam nods, and slowly walks over. 

“I’m sorry about what happened. We shouldn’t have left without even trying to find you. However, I need you to follow protocol next time. Do you understand?” 

Sam nods, wringing his fingers. 

“You can’t seriously be telling this kid that this is his fault. What is wrong with you?” Bobby demands. 

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just saying that I will do things differently, but Sam needs to as well. He should have called us. I don’t want to lose either of you. I know that what we do is dangerous, but we can make it safer. I want you to be as safe as possible, because I love you two.” 

Sam shuffles uncomfortably. He doesn’t say anything about his phone, and just nods. John puts a hand on his shoulder. 

“Alright, I have to talk to Bobby. We can talk more later.” 

Bobby follows John out, leaving Dean and Sam alone. 

“Come on, Sammy. I’m gonna wash your hair for you.” 

Sam numbly nods, and follows Dean to the bathroom. He gets everything set up, then guides Sam’s head under the water. He gently scrubs Sam’s hair, staying quiet for a minute. 

“I’m sorry about Dad. I know that it wasn’t your fault. I figure your phone was broken, or lost, or something. Though I understand you not wanting to start another fight right now,” Dean says as he pours shampoo onto his hands. 

“Yeah, well, I’m too tired to fight. I wonder how long it’s going to be before we hit the road again.” 

“I’m not sure, but I’ll make sure that he lets you rest properly.” 

Sam smirks. “Alright, well, I guess I’m in good hands then.” 

“I know that I don’t say it enough, but I do love you, Sammy. I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

“I know, and I appreciate you, Dean. I mean, I’d be dead right now if it wasn’t for you.” 

Dean shudders. Sam lets Dean guide his head back under the water. 

“Yeah, I don’t want to think about that.” 

A few minutes later, Dean starts drying Sam’s hair for him. 

“Come on, I’ll move the weapons so you can get some rest.” 

Sam smiles again. “Alright, thanks.” 

Yeah, it’ll be fine. I mean, living with Dad hasn’t killed us yet.

Left For Dead

Sam keeps his eyes on the gun he’s cleaning as John yells in the other room. Dean is sitting next to him, also trying to ignore it. Neither of them acknowledge that their dad is throwing a tantrum in the other room over not being able to find one specific knife. They both know it’s only a matter of time before he comes into the room with them, and blames them for doing something with it, but Sam hopes that he finds it before it comes to that.

No such luck though, and it’s only a few minutes before John comes in, red in the face. He starts screaming immediately. Sam doesn’t really listen, because he doesn’t know where the knife is, but he knows how badly this is going to impact their hunt tonight regardless. Going on a hunt with their dad is stressful enough, but when he’s mad, it’s horrible. He makes things as hard as possible, and leaves Sam and Dean to clean everything up.

Dean is obviously trying to placate John even though he has no idea where the stupid thing is either. John eventually turns to Sam.

“And why aren’t you saying anything, you smartass?”

“I don’t know where your knife is, Dad.”

“Well get your sorry ass up, and look for it! You’re the scatterbrained one that always misplaces everything.”

Sam stands up, puts the gun back together, then places it gently on the bed. He goes into the other room, and starts digging around for the knife. After a few minutes, he knicks his finger on the knife, which was under the bed.

“Ow, shit.”

He grabs the first aid kit before heading back into the other room. He offers the knife to John, who frowns at him.

“You did know where it was! That’s the only way you could have found it that fast. You are in so much trouble.”

Sam ignores him, sitting down to clean his finger, and get a bandaid on it.

“Samuel Winchester, you listen to me.”

“I am listening, Dad. I just don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Apologize for messing with me.”

“No, I didn’t do anything with your knife. I just looked in the places where you lose things the most.”

John glares at him, but storms back into the other room.

“You should have just agreed with him,” Dean says softly, looking up at Sam.

“Why? I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t have to go find his shit for him, but I did. Then he yelled at me. I didn’t hide his knife.”

“I know you didn’t, but it makes him easier to deal with.”

“Yeah, then I can be Dad’s pet.”

Dean sighs and looks back down, done fighting already. Sam’s quietly relieved, not really wanting to fight either. They don’t talk again until it’s time to get ready for the hunt.

“So, what are we actually going out to find?” Sam asks.

“I think it’s just a regular poltergeist.”

Sam hums, stuffing his gun into his bag.

“Dad wants you to be the lookout again. It’s a cabin in the woods, so he’s going to drop you off about a mile before we get there so you can watch for the cops.”

Sam nods. That’s all John ever trusts him to do anyway, so he’s not surprised. The ride is quiet and tense too. John is obviously still angry though Sam is trying to ignore him. Sam gets dropped off a mile away from the cabin into the dark, quiet woods.

He leans against a tree, staring at the road from his spot just far enough away that no one would be able to see him if they drove past. Not that anyone should be driving down this secluded road anyway. The only reason they’re out there is because stupid kids kept daring each other to go to the haunted cabin.

Thirty minutes pass before Sam starts to wonder what’s taking Dean and John so long. He starts nervously checking his gun, fidgeting with the knife strapped to his hip. Then he hears gunshots going off. They sound closer than they should, so he stays light on his feet.

Questions are swirling in his mind. What could have possibly gone wrong? Why are they still gone? I hope Dean is ok.

His eyes scan the treeline, looking for anyone, but it’s too dark to see. He can’t hear any leaves crunching, or branches snapping, so he looks back to the road. Sam hears another gunshot, but this one sounds a little bit closer. He can hear people shouting, but it’s definitely not Dean, or John. Sam doesn’t recognize the voice, so he ducks closer to the road.

More shots ring out, and Sam strains his ears to hear exactly what’s going on to no avail. Flashing red and blue lights turn the bend, and Sam runs towards the cabin.

I have to tell Dean and Dad that the police are here.

He’s getting closer to the gunshots, but not close enough to see anything when he feels something hit his abdomen. He looks down, surprised.

A stray shot hit me?

Blood flows down his shirt, and his legs go out from under him. He hits a tree on the way down, pain lighting up his side as he scrapes the bark. His head is spinning, and he throws up. The gunshots are dying down, and he can hear the policemen yelling something. He’s too far gone to tell what they’re saying, so he just lets it go.

Dean ducks behind a tree.

“How did we not realize that the police were here when we got here? I can’t believe we fired weapons with cops nearby,” he hisses as John reloads his gun.

“Yeah, well, I still want to try to get the ghost.”

“If we try to go back right now, we’re going to get shot.”

“No we won’t. Just come on.”

They don’t even make it to the cabin before they’re spotted again. Shots are fired immediately, and they end up going back the way they came from.

“We’ll go down this way, then loop back around to the car once we get them off our tails,” John whispers, and Dean nods while John’s still looking at him.

It takes a while to shake off their police tails, but when they do, they loop back around to the car.

“Ok, now we just have to pick up Sam, and get back to the hotel,” Dean says, tossing his gun in the back.

“Yep.”

John drives back to where they left Sam, but he’s nowhere in sight. John barely stops to look before starting the car again.

“Where are you going?”

“He’s not where we left him, and we can’t risk getting out to look for him. Worst case scenario is the police find him, and we have to bail him out. He deserves this, Dean. He didn’t tell us that the cops were coming. He didn’t even tell us when their reinforcements showed up.”

“I still think they were at the cabin when we got there, Dad. That’s not his fault. We have to turn around.”

“No, we don’t. Think of it like this, sitting in jail for a few hours is going to be his punishment for not letting us know that reinforcements showed up.”

Dean looks unhappy, but nods.

“I guess if you really don’t think it’s safe for us to go find him.”

“It’s not. If we go find him, and they find us, they might shoot him too. Since he hasn’t been with us, he shouldn’t have any issues.”

“Ok, Dad. Are we going to the police station tomorrow morning?”

“Yes, since they didn’t see our faces, we’re going to report him missing, and say that he ran off with some of his friends. Teenagers do that. Then they’ll think that all of them were there goofing off. As serious as having a firearm is, we should be able to get him out.”

Dean nods, though he still looks a little unsure. They drive back to the hotel, and make sure that all of their weapons are hidden before settling down for the night.

[the-iceni-bitch]

Happy Fucking New Year!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Words: 5071

Summary: You and Bucky spend New Year’s Eve together in Paris!

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral sex (F receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, anal play, cum eating), explicit descriptions of violence, minor character death, SMUT, 18+ only!!!

A/N: Well, my grandma ass passed out while literally writing this fic last night at like 10PM so sorry it’s late! But it’s still New Year’s Day so whatever. It’s kinda fun, I definitely enjoy having Bucky and Sam be complete idiots while our poor reader is the only one with common sense, so you may be seeing a lot of those two fucking things up in this series. Join my taglist here if you’re inclined and a Happy New Year to all you lovely hoes!

“Damn, Barnes. Look at your ass in that tux.”

He choked on his champagne when you snuck up behind him, grabbing one ass cheek and giving it a squeeze before he had a chance to turn around.

He didn’t know how you always managed to catch him off guard.  He was used to being able to pick up on any threat immediately, but you were always able to slip under his defenses.

The expression that came over his face when he finally saw you was priceless. You loved surprising him with shockingly revealing outfits, offending those sweet old man sensibilities he pretended to have in public. But you knew exactly what he was thinking as his eyes drank you in.

The gown you had picked was a deep blue velvet that hugged your curves. While the skirt was tight against your legs, it still could’ve possibly been considered modest. The top though…. The v of the neck wasn’t as deep as your usual style, but the back dipped so low he wondered how you could possibly be wearing panties. All he could think of was snapping those thin straps with his vibranium hand and watching the fabric slide over your soft skin before it pooled around your ankles.

He couldn’t believe the two of you were spending New Year’s Eve in Paris. You’d barely had a chance to speak to each other after your tryst in Stockholm, and now you were together in the city of lights on one of the most romantic nights of the year.

“Hey, Barnes, you still in there?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He grinned at you as he watched you take a sip of champagne. “Just wondering where you’re hiding your knives in that dress?”

“Mmm, if this night goes according to plan, maybe I’ll let you look for them later.” You teased him, giving him a wink as you walked your fingers across his chest.

“Alright, that’s enough. You two promised to cool it with the kinky shit over comms.”

The two of you turned to shrug apologetically at Sam, who was glaring murderously at you from across the foyer.

“Sorry Sammy.” You whispered, tittering to yourself.

“Yeah, sorry Sammy.” Bucky gave him a stupid grin as the three of you started slowly moving to one the hallways leading to the main building.

“You don’t get to call me that, Barnes. You keep getting me into these fucking stupid situations, and your poor girlfriend always has to get us out. We were almost home, man, and you just had to follow that shady fucker at the airport.”

“No, he was following me. And anyways, I was right about him. I told you HYDRA had various goon squads lurking around.”

“You guessed.”

“I guessed right.”

“So, you admit it, you guessed!”

“Hey, boys!” You furrowed your brow as you turned to glare at the two of them, a little annoyed at the bickering. “Isn’t there supposed to be a door here?”

They finally shut up and followed your line of sight to where all the intelligence indicated the access door to the arsenal should be located.

Bucky let out a deep sigh and clenched his jaw, his eyes moving up the wall until they found the tiny hatch in the corner, fifteen feet off the floor. He turned his head to Sam and growled.

“You were in charge of reconnaissance. Do you not know the difference between a door and a hatch? Do your little robot minions not know how to take measurements?”

“Hey, don’t blame the robots man! This was based on human intelligence, which I’m pretty sure is your responsibility.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

You ground your teeth together as you listened to the two of them, not sure how you were able to put up with this shit. You took in your surroundings, trying to figure out a way through this situation.

“Well one of us has to get up there.” You murmured to yourself.

“I nominate robot boy.”

“Ok, ya know what, they’re not robots. I might’ve been able to let it go but, heh, I can’t. They’re drones. And if you think me buzzing one of those through the party out there is inconspicuous…”

“Oh, not one of your robots, you. What if I throw you at the hatch?”

One glance at him let you know he was seriously considering throwing your friend at the hatch. You rolled your eyes as you slipped out of your pumps.

“Ok, now you’re trying to piss me off, I just told you they were drones. And you are not throwing me at that tiny door. It’s not even open.”

“Well, if I throw you hard enough, that won’t matter.”

“It’s a solid steel door, dumbass. And I’m pretty sure it opens outward. I vote we come back later with some tools.”

“We’re on a timetable. I say we settle this with some old-fashioned rock, paper, scissors.”

“Um, no, you cheat.”

“How can you cheat at rock, paper, scissors?”

You did your best to tune them out as you stretched, sighing as you gathered your dress up over your thighs and grumbling to yourself about ruining another outfit.

“I don’t know, but you do. Ok, if you use your normal hand, maybe that’ll work.”

“Whatever, I’ll still win.”

You walked back down the hall, then turned and sprinted past the two of them, vaulting off one leg when you reached the corner and using your momentum to spring yourself off the wall until you were able to brace yourself in the tiny alcove next to the hatch.

“Could one of you toss me the laser driver from my clutch?” You called down to them, now that they had finally stopped their incessant arguing.

Sam grinned up at you as he picked your clutch off the ground, tossing the driver to you when he found it.

“Man, every time.” He shook his head at Bucky as you started working on dismantling the door. “I don’t know how your dumbass has survived this long without us, Barnes. You can’t just punch your way through everything.”

“I’m sorry, ‘us’? Seems like she’s doing all the work while you’re just bossy.”

“Can you two just give it a rest? I’m in.” You pulled the hatch open and slid through it, hanging over the edge by your fingertips for just a second before softly dropping on the balls of your feet on the other side. “Fuck, that’s a lot of bombs.”

“What kinds of bombs?” Sam asked over the comms, all business now.

“Well, I’m not an expert, but this sure looks like tesseract related tech to me.”

“Shit.” Bucky hissed. “Any way to disarm?”

“Well, probably, sweetie, but there’s at least 100 of these fuckers, and I don’t really feel like spending all of New Year’s Eve playing ‘which wire?’”

“Alright, just give us a second.”

You heard a yelp from outside and all of a sudden Sam’s torso came flying through the open hatch, his hips catching on the edge.

“Did he just throw you?” You asked, not bothering to hide the grin that spread over you face as Sam looked for something to swing down with. You dragged over an empty shelf and he pulled himself through, climbing down gingerly to come stand beside you.

“Your boyfriend is a fucking menace.” He grumbled, brushing some debris off his shoulders. He whistled through his teeth when he got a good look at the stockpile you had uncovered. “Shit.”

“Fuck me.” Bucky murmured, suddenly behind the two of you, making Sam jump.

“Goddamn it Barnes, why you gotta always be so stealthy?”

“Maybe you just need to pay better attention, what if I’d been a goon?”

“You are a goon.”

“Oh my god, I cannot do another round of this. Sam, can you call this in please? Maybe Sharon will have some idea of what to do about the massive pile of shit we just stepped in.”

“Fine, Y/N. I’ll call the boss.”

You went to examine the bombs more closely. They all seemed to have remote triggers, but you didn’t want to take the chance that they were volatile, so you resisted the urge to pick one up.

“Yeah, this is definitely tesseract tech.” Bucky muttered, and your heart jumped into your throat when you turned to see him tossing one of the bombs into the air and catching it again in his vibranium hand.

“Motherfucker put that down you idiot! What if there had been a pressure sensor?”

Bucky stared at you for a second, then back at the bomb in his hand. “Right, whoops.” He placed it back on the pile gingerly and gave you a sheepish grin.

“I swear to god, the two of you are going to end up getting me killed.”

“Ok, boss said they have a remote drone about one minute out that should have the ability to disarm these. She just wanted us to open the skylight for it.”

“The what?” You hissed at him.

“Uh….”

“There’s a fucking skylight?” You looked up and scoffed, seeing a very large window right there in the ceiling.

“Nice, Wilson.” Bucky just shook his head at him.

“Fuck you, Barnes! You didn’t know about it either.”

“No more! One of you morons get up there and open it!” You were seething. “You’re lucky I like the two of you or I swear to god, I would stab the both of you right now.”

“Alright, rock, paper, scissors?”

“No!! Bucky, just fucking do it.” You screwed your eyes shut and pressed your fingers into the peaks of your eyebrows.

“You got it, beautiful. You’re so cute when you’re mad… shit.”

He had to scramble up one of the shelves as you tried to charge at him, but Sam was able to hold you back at the last second.

“Ok, let’s all just take some deep breaths. It’s all good. The drones on the way. We didn’t have to fight anyone. And there’s still 25 minutes until midnight, so we’ll all get to toast the new year.”

Right as he uttered that last word, a large door on the opposite end of the room opened, and three goons carrying large guns entered.

“Goddamn it, Wilson, you jinxed us. And look, another fucking door!”

“Yeah, they do seem to be popping up everywhere.” He muttered under his breath. “Hey, fellas, we were just…. god, y’know what, I’m too tired to come up with something. Should we just fight?”

You sneered at him before hefting one of the bombs and chucking at the head of one of the guards, hitting him right between the eyes and knocking him out.

“OOHH! What if that had gone off?” Sam yelled at you as you charged the two standing goons who were still standing, diving at the last second to roll one of them over your shoulder.

“Oh, so only you and grandpa are allowed to make stupid decisions, then?” You said, pulling out a knife from under your skirt and trying to stab the guard who was still standing. You were just a little too slow and he dodged you, making you hiss. “Do you mind giving me a hand?”

“Shit, right.” He found a metal pipe leaning against the corner and walked over to where the first guard was starting to come to his senses, bringing it around in an arc to crash against his chin, knocking him out again.

“Drone’s here! Aww man, you guys started a fight without me?” Bucky had climbed back down to find the two of you grappling with your respective opponents.

He walked over and punched the asshole that had Sam in a chokehold in the face with his vibranium fist, feeling a satisfying crunch as he went down. Bucky started to stride over to give you a hand as Sam tried to catch his breath when you suddenly drove your knife up under your opponent’s ribs, giving it a twist before you withdrew it.

“Y’know,” He murmured as he watched you bend over to clean off the blade on the dead man’s jacket. “I’m a little mad at you now. I was looking forward to looking for that later tonight.” He grinned at you, nodding at the knife in your hand as you drew up your skirt to return it to the sheath on your thigh.

“Don’t worry sweetie, there’s plenty hiding under here for you to discover.” You teased him as he pulled you to him, pressing a deep kiss to your lips and moaning against your mouth. He always got so worked up after watching you fight.

“Ugh, I’m still here, you freaks!”

“Shit, sorry Sam!” You flashed an apologetic grin at your friend as he glared at you. Bucky was pulling at the front of his pants and screwing his eyes closed as he tried to fight his obvious erection.

“There’s something wrong with you two.” He muttered under his breath as he started climbing the shelves to leave through the skylight.

The drone had done its job. All the indicator lights on the bombs were off, showing there were no longer armed. You gave a small sigh of satisfaction before looking up at the skylight.

“Gimme a boost, Buck.”

“Yep.” He hooked his hands under one of your heels and grinned to himself as he brought his arms up a little faster than you had intended, flinging you up to the roof in one swift motion and making you yelp.

“You’re such a dick!” You shouted down to him as he started to climb out after you, making him laugh. “What time is it Sam?”

“Hey, we’ve still got 10 minutes to midnight!” He said, giving you a grin.

“Ooh, think we can make it back?”

“Yeah, it’s just a couple rooftops over! Barnes, move your ass!”

Bucky was just climbing onto the roof as you and Sam started jogging towards the adjacent building and cursed under his breath as he clambered to follow you.

Sam let out a whoop as he leaped between the buildings, one of his drones catching him halfway and carrying him to the other side.

“Oh my god was that waiting out here the whole time?” You scolded him as he swooped back to lift you across the gap, depositing you softly on the next roof.

“Yeah, why are you surprised?”

You just gave him a laugh as Bucky flung himself over the space between the structures, rolling in his landing and scowling at the two of you when he regained his feet.

“No thanks, I don’t need any help.” He growled at Sam, voice dripping with sarcasm as he brushed some pebbles off the shoulder of his tux jacket.

“You’re fine.” Sam waved a dismissive hand as the three of you walked to the next edge, which led to your hotel.

You dropped down first to the ledge that was 10 feet below, landing on the balls of your feet and twisting just a bit to gain your balance before you started gliding towards the window to your room.

“You good, Y/N?” Sam called as they watched you crouch as much as you could when you reached the end of the ledge.

“She’s got it.” Bucky muttered as you uncurled your body like a whip, shooting across the gap between the two buildings, latching onto the buttress above your window as you stretched down, your toes reaching for the lower sill. You found your purchase and released one hand to draw the window open, then slipped inside easily. “See?” He gave Sam a grin as he moved to follow you.

It only took the two of them a minute to join you, and you met them with champagne and a pleased smile on your face.

“Hello boys, just in time for the countdown!”

You passed out the drinks and took one for yourself before the three of you headed out to the small balcony that was around the corner from the window you had entered through.

“And 5, 4, 3, 2, 1! Happy New Year!” The three of you shouted.

You heard the city erupt in cheers and fireworks started exploding over the Eiffel tower. Bucky set his champagne flute down and drew you into his arms, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of your head as he pressed his lips to yours. You sighed as you opened up to him, welcoming the crisp taste of champagne on his tongue as he curled it against yours.

“Ooookay, that is my cue to leave.” Sam said, downing the rest of his drink and avoiding making eye contact with either of you as he made his exit.

“Mmm, Happy New Year, Sammy!” You called after him. Bucky just waved a hand at him as his mouth moved down to your neck, his lips trailing over your throat as his other hand pressed against the small of your back.

“Just, remember to take out your comms, I’m begging you.” Sam said before shutting the door behind him.

“Fuck, right.” You plucked yours out of your ear and set it next to your glass as Bucky drew you back into the room, sucking on the curve of your shoulder softly. He released you for just a second to remove his own comm and closed the door to the balcony before turning back to you.

“Oh, that fucking dress.” He growled as he took you in, his eyes dark with desire. “You know, I’ve been wanting to peel you out of that thing all night, you damn cock tease.”

You stepped into him and pressed your hand against the bulge in his pants as you nipped at his bottom lip. “Mmm, your always so good to me when I tease you though, baby. I can’t help it.” You moved your hands up to start undoing his tie. “Besides, I don’t know how you can blame me for teasing you when you’re walking around in this tux. I’ve been wet all night.” You whipped the tie off and started working on the buttons of his shirt as you took his earlobe between your lips and sucked on it.

His hands moved to your ass and squeezed as he ground his hips against you, making you gasp. “Don’t tell me that unless you want me to do something about it. Fuck, are you even wearing anything under here?”

You slid his jacket off his shoulders and followed it with his shirt, running your fingers over his bare torso before starting to undo his belt. “Why don’t you get it off me and find out?” You purred, gazing up at him through your lashes as you drew the belt through the loops and moved to unbutton his fly.

He leered at you and brought his hands up to your shoulders, running the thin straps of your gown through his fingers before snapping them easily. He sighed as he watched the material slither over your curves and pool at your feet. “I fucking knew it.”

You were completely bare under his gaze, aside from the two knife belts you had around your thighs, each of which contained 2 blades.

“Damn it, Barnes.” You scolded him.

“What?”

“Could we have one night where you don’t end up ruining at least one expensive item of clothing?” You sighed, bending over to pick up the dress and shooting him a soft look of reproval.

“Shit, baby. I’m sorry. I get too excited.” He did feel a little bad, but every time you wore something like that, all he could think of was ripping it off you.

“Well, now you’ll just have to make it up to me.” You teased, tossing the dress aside and drawing him closer.

“Yes, ma’am.” He murmured as his fingers moved to start undoing the belts around your thighs. He brushed his lips against the small hollow beneath your ear as he worked, flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin there as his fingers brushed over your legs, making your pussy clench around nothing. “You want me to show you how sorry I am with my tongue?” He set aside the two belts and moved a hand to cup your sex, groaning at how warm and wet he found you.

“God, just fucking do it.” You hissed as he teased a finger between your folds, barely brushing against your heat before withdrawing again.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” He picked you up and carried you a few feet to lay you on the dining room table, kicking the chairs out of the way with a clatter.

He gave you a searing kiss, taking your breath with him when he withdrew to kneel between your thighs. His stubble tickled at your skin as he moved his lips and tongue up your inner thigh at an agonizing pace, moving to the other thigh when he had almost reached your cunt and making you whine.

“I’m so sorry I ruined your dress, pretty girl.” He finally dragged his tongue over your slit and you let out a low moan, your fingers burying themselves in his hair as he repeated the motion. “Wish I could promise it won’t happen again, but this pussy does things to me.”

He pressed the flat of his tongue against you and drew it over your entrance heavily, slurping up all the evidence of your arousal with an obscene sound before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. The whimper you let out made his cock twitch as your thighs clenched around his shoulders, drawing him into you even further.

“God, Bucky, right there.” You murmured as he increased the pressure on your bundle of nerves and inserted two fingers into your cunt, moaning at the feeling of your satiny walls clenching around him. He curled them just a bit and you wailed, arching your back into him as you started whispering “please” over and over like a prayer.

He grinned against you as he shook his head slightly, pressing himself even further into your heat and lapping up the juices that leaked from you as he fucked you with his fingers.

He added a third finger and crooked his wrist just slightly and that was it. Every muscle in your body went rigid as you came against his face, soaking him in your release as you clamped down on his fingers and sobbed with pleasure. You released him slightly, only to spasm again from the aftershocks as your muscles quivered around him. He finally managed to draw himself away and stood between your legs, grinning down as he watched you come down from your orgasm, shivering occasionally as a random jolt of pleasure shot through you.

“You think you can forgive me?” He asked wickedly as he finished undoing his slacks and slid them over his hips, followed by his boxer briefs. He drew his hand over his length as he waited for you to answer, nudging the tip of his cock against your folds and making you yelp.

“Fuck, yes. God Bucky.” You sat up and wrapped your hands around his neck, bringing his face to yours violently. You ground your hips against him, groaning as you felt his shaft slide through your slick easily. He started to lift you to bring you to the bedroom and you shook your head a bit before releasing him. “No, I need it now.”

He grinned at you as he teased his head against your clit, making you whine. “You want me to fuck you right here on the table?”

“God, yes please. Gimme that cock. I need you inside me.” It was driving you crazy. You brought a hand between the two of you and wrapped it around him, making him hiss as you lined him up. “I want you to split me open then fuck me until I can’t breathe.”

He let out a low growl from deep in his chest. He loved when you talked like this. He pushed into slowly with a groan until he was sheathed to the hilt, relishing in the feel of you clenching around him. “Fuck baby, you feel so good. So tight and warm. What else you want me to do to you?” He started moving his hips slowly, grinding them against you each time he was bottomed out.

“Shit,” You were panting with need as he moved inside you, his cock dragging against your g-spot over and over and making it hard to think. “I want your mouth on my tits. God, just like that.” He was following your instructions beautifully, dragging his tongue over the inner slope of your breast as his hips kept up their slow pace. “Fuck, baby, suck on my nipples now.”

He did as you asked, swirling his tongue over the sensitive buds as his lips closed around them, sucking softly and making you whine. He’d always been good at following orders.

“Mmm, move faster.” You commanded, wrapping your fingers in his hair as he continued lavishing attention on your breasts.

He obliged easily, picking up the pace until he was slamming into you, knocking the breath out of you. You met each of his thrusts with your own, mewling as you felt a coil starting to knot in your abdomen.

“God, I’m gonna cum.” You whined.

One more drive of his hips and the coil broke, making you scream. Your fingernails dug into his scalp as you went stiff for just a beat before everything released. He smiled into your neck as you vibrated against him, panting heavily as you came down.

He kept fucking into you like a man possessed. He brought his mouth back up to yours and kissed you softly as he felt you relax a bit. “Did I do good, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, baby, you did great.” You laughed into his mouth as he kept moving.

“You’re in charge, pretty girl. What do you want now?”

“God, work my clit. Fuck, just like that.” You were having trouble focusing as he did what you asked. “I need your mouth on my neck. Hngh, Bucky! That’s so good.”

“What else, beautiful?” he grinned against your throat, loving how easily you were coming apart around him. He picked up the pace with his hips a little more and felt you flutter around him.

“Shit, stick your thumb up my ass.”

He was not prepared for that and his hips faltered for a bit. He whipped his head up to stare at you as he regained his composure.

“What?”

“Ahh, fuck.” You were just a little embarrassed. You usually liked to ramp up to this type of thing, and especially with Bucky, you had wanted go really slow with this particular kink. You didn’t know how much of a thing anal play had been in the 40s. “Um, you can forget I said that.”

To your surprise, he broke out into an absolutely sinful grin and gave you a savage kiss as he laid you back on the table, stilling his hips but keeping himself sheathed in you as he drew your knees up to your shoulders.

“I’ve been dreaming about this ass, baby.” He said as he started moving his hips again, dragging his thumb through the slick that was leaking out around his cock and moving it down until it was pressing against your pretty hole, making you gasp.

“Bucky, don’t tease me.”

“Thinking about this tight little hole wrapped around my cock, I was worried you’d never let me in.” You moaned as he pressed himself through the tight ring of muscle and your eyes rolled up into your skull as you arched yourself into him. “But here you are, giving me a fucking invitation.”

He gave a groan when both your holes clenched around him, and he felt his cock moving in your cunt with his thumb through the thin lining between your passages. He drew himself out halfway and slammed back into violently, the tip of him barely kissing your cervix and making you whine.

His fingers on your clit pressed down hard and you flew apart around him, your orgasm ripping through you with abandon. The scream you let out was otherworldly as you creamed all over his cock.

The sight of you writhing beneath him sent him over his own edge and he shouted your name as his cum spurted inside of you, coating your walls and his dick as he collapsed on top of you.

You were still trembling as aftershocks rippled through your body. He kissed your neck and pulled out of you gently. You barely noticed, you were so fucked out.

“Shit sweetheart.” He muttered as he drew himself up. “This body treats me so fucking good. Damn, look at that.” He drew your knees apart and stared appreciatively at you pussy, still clenching as you came down. His cum was slowly leaking out of you and dribbling over your puckered hole. “Let’s clean you up.”

You had expected him to go get a towel, but he knelt down and dragged his tongue over first your asshole, then your slit, making you sob as he lapped up the mixture of your releases. When he drew his tongue over your clit, you came again immediately, it was so overstimulated.

“Fuck, you ok, Y/N?” He hadn’t expected you to be that sensitive and was worried he might have overdone it. He brought himself back up to look you in the eyes, cupping one cheek in the palm of his hand as he studied your face with concern.

“God, Bucky, I’m fucking great.” You gave him a sloppy grin as you stared up at him, turning your head to press a kiss into the palm of his hand. “I don’t think I can walk though.” Your legs were jelly.

He just laughed and scooped you into his arms, carrying you into the bedroom and laying on the bed. He covered you with the sheets and pressed a soft kiss to your temple before heading into the bathroom to clean himself up. He was only gone for a minute before he was sliding behind you and wrapping you in his arms.

“Happy New Year, beautiful.” He whispered into your hair as you drifted off to sleep, drowsy now that you were surrounded with his warmth.

“Happy fucking New Year, Bucky.” You murmured before you dozed off, blissfully satisfied.

Permanent Tags:

@drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @starlightcrystalline​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @buckysnumberonegirl​

[sams-sass]

Right Here Waiting

Friends!!! I am so sorry that I haven't posted in like weeks. I was taking time to relax and refresh. This is for all my Dean girls! I hope you all have a beautiful weekend. Thank you so much for reading! Much love *kisses*

Summary: You get hurt on a hunt and Dean faces the fact that he might lose you before he gets to tell you how he feels.

Pairings: Dean x Reader.

Warnings: Talk of death. Angst. Fluff. Angsty fluff. Few swear words.

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Deans back practically rammed through the door, almost knocking it off its hinges. He dragged you into the motel room with Sam running in behind him, his arms full of weapons and bags. Your head lolled from side to side against Dean's chest as he walked backward toward one of the beds. His limp was bad, and every step was agonizing, but he was determined to take care of you first. He threw you down on the bed and grabbed your face between his hands.

“Y/N!” He screamed, his voice nervous and shaky. You didn’t move, didn’t even flinch. He shook your shoulders, his bloody hands grasping your shirt.

“Dean!” Sam yelled at his brother. It was almost as if Dean didn’t hear him, just continued to stare into your face. “Dean!” Sam tried again, grabbing Dean’s jacket this time.

"Not now, Sam!" Dean shrugged Sam's hands-off and grabbed your shirt again, shaking you even harder this time.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, grabbing his brother by the jacket with both hands and picking him up off your body. Dean pushed against Sam's hands, his breath coming in fast and hard as he tried to get back to you. "Dean," Sam said softly this time. "She has a head injury; you can't shake her like that." He let go of Dean's jacket and patted his shoulder compassionately, telling him he completely understood his brother's outburst. Dean nodded quickly and dragged his hand over his mouth, feeling the blood on his skin. He looked down at his hand, and his lips parted at the shock of seeing it covered in blood. At that moment, he realized how much pain he was in; he collapsed into Sam’s chest when his leg gave out suddenly. Sam caught him and moved to the bed, helping Dean sit down next to you and looking at his leg. Dean kicked his jeans off and saw the wicked-looking gash across his thigh and dragging over his knee. He winced at the sight of blood and his torn flesh.

"How did you get so lucky? That wendigo tore me and Y/N apart." Dean asked Sam, who seemed unharmed.

“I have a bullet wound on my arm from when Y/N shot at it and missed it," Sam said, his voice was eerily calm.

“You have a bullet…Sam!” Dean screamed. He started looking at Sam's arms, and sure enough, there was a hole in his left jacket sleeve with a stream of blood trailing down.

"I'll worry about it later. You could bleed out." Sam said, getting out the stitches and gauze. He moved his left arm as little as possible, stitching his brother to the best of his abilities. Dean distracted himself by looking over at you, your face peaceful on the puke green bedspread. He couldn't imagine what would happen if you didn't wake up. He didn't want to look in the rearview mirror again if you weren't curled up in the back seat, your eyes catching his every once in a while. He didn't want to fall asleep at night without listening to your quiet breaths, even and steady. How could he manage another hunt without being able to celebrate with you after? He didn’t want to think about it, couldn’t let himself fall into that pit of despair.

His thoughts were interrupted when Sam accidentally stabbed him; he mumbled a “sorry” and kept working. He finally finished, wiping away at all the blood and standing up. He handed Dean the gauze and flopped down next to him on the bed, slowly taking off his jacket and shirt. His hands clenched from the pain. Sam turned so Dean could clean and inspect the wound for bullet fragments. Finding none, he wrapped Sam’s arm in gauze. The brothers then passed a bottle of whiskey back and forth between them, looking back at you with every sip. Sam placed a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder, sending him a small smile.

“She’s gonna be okay." He said. Dean didn't answer; he just kept staring at you lying on the bed.

“Sam I…” He let his voice trail off, not wanting to finish his sentence.

“I know, Dean. I know.” Sam nodded his head and looked at the ground. You had been unconscious for about two hours now, and the boys were both growing with anxiety. Sam considered you his best friend. His companion on this long and broken road. He loved you and often showed you, exposing his thoughts and feelings to you when he couldn't count on anyone else. You were like a sister to him, a familial and strong bond that couldn't break. Dean was a different story. You and Dean were more than close. He considered you an extension of himself. He found himself waking before you so you would have a hot coffee when you woke up. He found ways to touch you, to let his skin move over yours for just a moment. No matter how fleeting the time maybe. He wanted to be flooded by you, surrounded by you in the dark of night. To feel your hair tickle his skin. Your scent cascades its way through him and fill him completely. He dreamt of a time when he could look into your eyes, deeply and passionately. Dream of a time when he could run his hands through your hair, feeling the strands slip between his fingers. He thought of you every day. Whispered your name into the night.

Now it looked like you may be slipping away. He could barely stand to look at you, knowing how badly you were hurt. Your skin was starting to bruise. A grotesque handprint was on your bicep where the wendigo had grabbed you and thrown you into the cave wall harshly. He scowled at the memory and swallowed thickly. He moved and limped his way into the bathroom, wetting a washcloth with warm water. He limped back to the bed and signaled to Sam to help him move you into a more comfortable position. He laid your head on the pillow while Sam straightened your legs before moving to his bed.

“Want me to stay up?” Sam asked.

"Nah, Sammy, I'll watch her," Dean responded, sitting back down next to you on the bed.

"Okay, wake me when she wakes up," Sam said around a yawn. Dean gave him a small smile and lifted your hand in his, beginning to wipe the dirt from your skin. He gently wiped all your exposed skin, pushing the hair away from your forehead. Your chest was moving slowly but surely, up and down, giving Dean a sense of peace. He moved toward the head of the bed and leaned his back against the headboard, stretching his aching muscles. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey again and watched the amber liquid slosh in the glass. His eyes kept wandering back to you, worry evident on his face.

Your face twitched first, eyebrows furrowing and lips curling. You moaned and rolled your head slowly, eyelashes fluttering open.

“Hey. Hey. Don’t move too much.” Dean said. He pulled himself over to you and grabbed your hand within his, looking into your fluttering eyes with concern. Waking up to Dean was something you could get used to. Jade eyes and freckles were greeting you softly. You groaned and suddenly felt the heaviness in your head. The pounding and splitting ache felt as if someone filled your head with rocks and shook it violently.

“Dean? What happened?” You whispered. Your voice was raspy and weak.

"The wendigo. It threw you against the cave wall. You hit your head pretty badly." He whispered back; his fingers brushed against your cheek as he tried to assess the extent of your head wound.

“Jesus, it's bright in here." You grumbled, lifting your head slightly. Dean tried to wrap his hands around your shoulders to support you. "I'm fine." You mumbled and tried to sit up, immediately regretting your decision. The room spun, and nausea hit your stomach hard. You fell back against the bed and placed your palm against your forehead, your eyes slamming shut.

“Shit, Y/N, just lay down.” Dean’s voice sounded annoyed and concerned at the same time.

“What’s that sound?” You asked through gritted teeth.

“What sound?” Dean asked, looking around the room with wide frantic eyes.

“That ringing! Oh my god, it’s so loud.” You said, moving your hands to your ears.

“Y/N? Y/N! Hey!" You heard him talking over you, but the sound was so loud, and you were so tired. Your skin felt heavy on your bones. Your neck was unable to lift your head. You couldn't take the ringing anymore; it was so loud in your head. Bouncing off your skull like bullets. The room began to shrink around you, the corners of your vision becoming dark and blurry. Your eyes closed again, and you slowly sank into the blackness that was calling your name with its warm voice. You felt your body move but didn't wake. Felt smooth leather of the backseat of the impala against the skin of your hands, but didn’t move. You thought you heard Dean's panicked voice saying your name but knew it was just a dream. The soft feeling of sleep surrounding you in its peaceful and calming hold.

Dean grabbed your face in between his hands, his mouth repeating your name over and over again as he watched you fall into the blackness. Sam raced to his brother's side, falling to his knees on the side of the bed, looking at your closed eyes.

“Y/N!” Dean screamed. “No, no, no, no, baby. Wake up for me.” He pleaded, this thumbs rubbing circles into your cheeks.

"Dean, we have to get her to the hospital!" Sam yelled, standing up and putting his hand on his brother's shoulder. He practically pushed Dean off of you and bent at the waist, placing his shoulder into your stomach, wrapping his arm around you, and lifting you as if you were a sack. Your body fell over his shoulder. Your hands swayed, and your fingers brushed against the back of his thighs. Dean pulled pants onto his legs quickly and limped to the car. There was a growing worry between them for your wellbeing. The silent communication that they often shared was thick with concern. Sam drove to the closest hospital while Dean held you in his arms in the backseat. His hands moved over your arms and shoulders. His mouth whispering your name and soft ‘please’s and ‘not yet’s into your hair as his lips brushed your ear.

------------------

The hospital was bright and loud when the boys pushed through the door. Dean limping, his stitches pulling with every step while Sam had you thrown over his shoulder. Nurses ran over to the three of you and helped Sam place you on a stretcher. They wheeled you away, and the boys looked helplessly down the white and sterile hallway. The stretcher rammed through the double doors, and you were gone. The doors closed, and Dean felt his heart sink lower into his chest, hope fading inside him quickly.

Dean was sitting next to Sam in the waiting room for family. The blue plastic chair was uncomfortable and hard against his aching body. He didn't know how to feel or act. His body felt old and used. His mind felt fuzzy and disoriented. He couldn't decide if he was heartbroken or angry. His soul was in a battle between an explosion of anger and pain or silent suffering within his skin. He rested his elbows on his thighs, ignoring the pain against his freshly stitched skin, and bowed his head. Tears sprung to his eyes, but he swallowed them down, not allowing the flood to happen yet. You had to be okay; you had to pull through. You were strong. So fucking strong. You had to wake up, open those beautiful Y/E/C eyes of yours and give Dean that small smirk that made his heart stop.

“Mr. Jacobson?” The doctor asked, looking around the room and interrupting Dean’s thoughts.

“Yes?” Dean said, standing up and limping towards the doctor, Sam right next to him.

“You’re here for Serena Jacobson?” He asked, checking his clipboard. You had this all planned since you started working with the boys. You all had false papers with fake names for insurance purposes. On some, you and Dean were married; on others, you and Sam were married. Dean just happened to be the one who threw the papers down this time.

"Yes," Sam answered this time, swallowing hard and looking at Dean for a moment.

"She suffered a severe concussion and had some brain swelling. At the moment, it is still touch and go; we have her on sedatives that we will slowly decrease, so she wakes on her own." He said. Dean blinked his eyes and furrowed his brow. He couldn't understand what was being said. His world was collapsing around him as his heart rate skyrocketed. His breath became loud in his ears. His body stiff and cold. Sam placed his hand on Dean's shoulder, and his world snapped back to him suddenly.

“But she’s gonna be okay, right? Doc, she’s gotta be okay.” Dean asked, his voice small.

"Right now, that's up to her." He said, his fingers tapped his clipboard as he nodded at them and walked away. The boys found your room, and Dean thought he was going to vomit. The sight of you in that white, clean, and sterile bed made bile rise into his throat, gagging him slightly. A bed that others had laid in, been sick in, and died in filled his body with dread. His feet brought him over to your bedside. Sam stood on the other side of you; he brushed his fingers along your arm. Dean couldn't bring himself to touch you just yet. Your glowing skin looked washed out and dull in the harsh fluorescent lighting. The bruise on your arm stood out against the white sheets. You seemed so small in the bed, so weak and broken, a complete contrast to how you usually were. Dean felt the tears hitting the blanket before he realized he was crying. He couldn't lose you, not yet. Not ever.

--------------------------

You opened your eyes to a sea of color. Green, blue, yellow, red, pink, and purple surrounded you. You felt warm under the sun, its soothing heat touching your exposed skin. The grass was scratchy under your thighs and elbows. The smell of summer was heavy in the air. It's thick and sticky air pulling into your lungs. Purple and pink flowers poked out of the green grass, their faces turned up towards the sun's light. A small creek tripped and stumbled over stones behind you; the sound of it filled you with peace. The sky was so blue with puffy white clouds hanging in it as if someone threw handfuls of cotton into the air. You blinked and looked around, slightly confused about where you were.

"Y/N! Come here!" A male voice said. You immediately sat up to find the source. Your heart dropped in your chest when you saw him, lips parting and breath catching in your throat at the sight. He looked shorter than you remembered. His shoulders that you used to ride on broad and expansive in his simple white t-shirt. He smiled at you, and tears prickled the edges of your eyes instantly.

“Dad?” You asked, standing up and moving towards him.

“Hey, Y/N/N, I’ve missed you so much.” He said with another smile that stung your heart.

“What is happening? What’s going on?” You asked him, sitting down in front of him.

“You’re hurt, sweetie. We are in a space between earth and heaven.” He answered, his body leaning closer to you.

"The wendigo." You said, remembering your head wound. You looked away at the expansive landscape in front of you, understanding, settling in your bones. "I'm dying." You whispered.

“That’s up to you, Y/N.” Your dad replied, his voice just as warm as you remembered.

“What do I do, dad?” You asked him with a trembling voice.

“Whatever you think is best.” He said back, his hand coming to cover yours, and you couldn’t stop the flood that completely engulfed you with emotion. You closed your eyes and relished in the feeling of his skin. He was right here in front of you, and you couldn't stop the swarm that filled you, breaking down all your walls and sweeping you away. You wrapped your arms around your father and took in his scent, clutching his shirt between your fingers.

“I can’t lose you again, daddy.” You mumbled against his shoulder.

"We can stay for a bit; tell me about your life." He said, his hands running over your back comfortingly. You nodded and sat back again, wiping your eyes and sniffling.

"Well, I'm a hunter just like you raised me to be. I hunt with these two men, Sam and Dean; you would like them a lot. Sam is like my big brother; he looks after me and I him on hunts and just in general. He is brilliant and kind; I enjoy his company so much because there is something about him that reminds me of you," You looked up at him with a small grin; he smiled back and nodded, silently telling you to go on. "then there’s Dean, he’s a bit of a different story. He’s strong, really strong. He’s selfless and compassionate…most of the time.” You laughed lightly. “He buys me coffee in the morning and gives me his jacket when I’m cold. He is a good man, they both are, but Dean…he makes me feel special.” You admitted, allowing yourself to say the words aloud for the first time and loving the warm feeling that spread throughout your veins. Your father smiled at you and nodded his head.

"Sounds like you are doing good, sweetie." He said, with a little laugh that made you smile. You nodded your head for a moment. Your lip started to tremble, and you made eye contact with him and slowly shook your head. There was so much you wanted to say, but only one thing came to your mind.

“I don’t want to leave. I want to stay with you.” You licked your bottom lip and let it catch between your teeth.

"That's an option." He said, tilting his head to the side and raising his eyebrows. "But is it the best option?" He asked, and you already knew the answer.

------------------------

Dean swallowed thickly and finally took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over your wrist. Your skin felt cold, and it made him wince. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again when he couldn't speak the words. He needed to tell you how he felt. He didn't know if you could hear him, but he had to try. Had to unleash his feelings for you to know. He turned towards Sam and cleared his throat, licking his lips and controlling his emotions for a moment.

“Sammy, can I have a minute?” He said, hearing the crack in his voice.

“Of course. I’ll get us some coffee.” Sam said, nodding and walking out the room, leaving you and Dean alone. Dean turned back to you and wrapped his other hand around yours, warming your skin in between his hands. He looked down at your combined hands and opened his mouth, feeling his lower lip tremble with emotion.

"Y/N, I-I don't know what to say. I need you here with me. I need to wake up every day knowing that you are going to tell me, 'it's too early for good, morning is fine.'" He chuckled softly at the memory of your husky voice and disheveled appearance. “Ya know, when we first met, I thought there was no way this super cool chick was going to stick around. I thought you would work the case with us and then leave us in the dust. You didn't; though, you joined the family. I'm here, sweetheart. I'm here, and I'll be right here waiting for you, Y/N, always.” Dean looked up into your face and moved even closer to you, cupping your cheek in his hand. “Baby, please fight for this. I need you to fight and come back to me. I need you-I just need you, only you. I love you, Y/N. I love you so goddamn much, and you have to wake up, okay? You have to pull through and wake up, because if you don't…I don't know what I'll-." His muscles clenched at the thought of what he would do to save you, eyes closing and tears falling freely down his cheeks. "Come back to me, baby.” He whispered before he leaned forward and kissed your forehead. His lips trembled against your flesh, your hair moving from his heavy sobs. He sat up and clenched his jaw. He was beginning to feel numb. A cold and ominous breath was spreading through his body. He felt dead inside. His skin felt just as cold as yours did. His eyes just as unseeing as yours were. His heart is just as slow and unsure as yours was. He felt open and exposed to the violence that stood menacingly in the back of his mind. He let out a shaky breath and licked his lips, tasting the salty tears. He ran a hand over his face and closed his eyes.

“Y/N.” He breathed your name into the air. One could mistake it for a prayer.

--------------------

You wiped your nose with the back of your hand, closing your eyes and bowing your head. You had an impossible choice in front of you, one that only you could make. It would be so easy to let go and stay here with your father, to live in this happy space with him forever. To get the time back, that was so harshly taken away from you two. It would be so easy to fold and let the sun warm you with its golden light. It would be so easy to watch the clouds roll by until the end of time, laughing in the grass as the creek bubbled in the background. To let someone else handle the hunting for once. Let them clean the blood off their hands. Let them dig graves in the pitch black of night. Let them be the ones stitching up wounds that leave scars along their skin. Let them be the ones who have wounds that no one could stitch up or fix. Scars that cut far deeper than the skin and into the very soul. It would be easy.

"Y/N." A voice called from a distance. A voice you knew all too well, a voice that sent chills down your spine. Dean was calling to you, his voice a breathy whisper. He sounded broken, and it made your heart skip a beat. You closed your eyes and let out a breath. You knew what you had to do.

“I have to go back.” You said, your body curling even tighter into itself.

“It’s not your time yet, Y/N/N.” Your dad said, his strong hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “But when it is, I’ll be here waiting.” He smiled at you, sad eyes letting you know this was the right choice.

“I love you.” Your voice broke around your words.

“I love you too.” He said. You closed your eyes and made your final decision.

-------------------------

Your eyes opened to harsh light. Everything around you was white; all color gone from your vision. The grass no longer tickled your skin. The air felt cold, and it made your bones ache. The creek wasn't falling over stones anymore, instead replaced by silence. Suddenly, there was a beeping next to you that made you jump slightly. You blinked and turned your head to the side to see Dean sitting next to you, his hands wrapped tightly around yours. You couldn't stop the smile that spread across your face, your eyes softening at the sight of him. You wiggled your fingers that were trapped between his, giggling when his head instantly shot up, eyes wide and lips parted. He looked up at you, and a bright, warm, and happy smile touched his face, crinkling the skin around his eyes slightly.

“Y/N?” He said quietly.

“Dean.” You said, your voice soft and horse. He stood from his chair and stepped closer to you, his hands taking your face between them.

“I thought I lost you.” He whispered as he leaned down to press his forehead against yours.

“Not yet.” You said, laughing lightly.

------

Sam stepped into the room and saw his brother leaning over you, your eyes were closed, but you were smiling. Dean leaned down and touched his forehead to yours, and Sam backed out of the room quietly, letting you have your space.

------

Dean went to take his forehead off yours; you quickly grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his lips down to yours, finally letting yourself taste him. He let out a surprised grunt before quickly kissing you back, his fingers twisting into your hair as his mouth opened. He broke the kiss first, leaning back and looking into your eyes, searching for an answer.

"Y/N…I really hope that was more than an 'I'm happy I'm alive' kiss. Because I have been thinking about this for a while." He said, his thumb running over your cheek.

"No, Dean, that was an 'I've wanted to do that for a really long time, and being on the verge of death made me see that I should take chances and tell people how I really feel' kiss." You smiled at him.

“Good, because I have also wanted to do that for a really long time.” He laughed, lowering his eyes shyly.

“I heard you.” You said, taking his hand off your cheek and holding it in yours.

“What?” He asked.

“I heard you say my name when I was asleep. That’s what brought me back.” You said with a small smirk. He looked at you with a combination of embarrassment, awe, and love.

“I was right here.” He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Waiting for me.” You finished, smiling at the small chuckle that left his mouth.

“Always.” He whispered before connecting his lips to yours once more.

**I didn't know who to tag because I write so little Dean. If you would like to be tagged and you were not, please let me know!

Tags: @spnfanficpond​ @watermelonlipstick​ @calaofnoldor​

[blackshinychevy]

Let Me Go

Summary: Dean has to make a heartbreaking decision that effects both of you.

WC: 1.6k+

Warnings: Angst, Character Death

Pairing: Dean x Reader

It’s late when Sam gets back to the bunker. There’s a huge thunderstorm outside that has most of the roads flooded and blocked off. He’s barely made it back with the take out he’d gone to get for he and his older brother, but the question of whether or not Dean will actually eat it is another matter.

Sam’s starting to become extremely worried about his older sibling. Dean’s always been a strong lover of food, the greasier the better. But Sam has noticed the drop in his brother’s appetite, as well as the newly made hole in his belt now that his jeans are becoming too loose around his waist.

As he walks into the kitchen, he sees Dean sat at the kitchen table, nursing a beer that has probably long since become warm. But Sam doesn’t miss the other five empty bottles beside him, as well as an empty whiskey tumbler.

“Hey.” He greets, dropping the plastic bag of food in front of him. “Got you a double bacon cheeseburger with extra onions and a side of fries.” Sam smiles in encouragement as he piles Dean’s favorites onto the table. “And...” Sam pulls out the last treat with a grin. “...cherry pie. Best around for miles apparently.” Sam’s smile wilts when Dean doesn’t even show he’s heard him. He merely continues rolling the beer bottle back and forth between his hands. “Where’s y/n?” The younger Winchester asks, glancing around the kitchen.

“In our room.” Dean states gruffly.

Sam knows at this point he needs to tread very carefully. One wrong word and Dean could snap again like he did the other night. It had taken Sam hours to put the library back to rights after his brother had torn through it like a hurricane during a drunken rage.

“Dean.” He sighs softly. “Don’t you think it’s time now? You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Dean drops the bottle down with a clunk, raising himself to his feet and marching towards the door. “I’m going to bed.” He states, not even glancing at his brother as he leaves the kitchen.

Sam throws the takeout box onto the table in defeat. He’d tried. But he knows he can do no more than what he’s already doing. The next step has to be entirely up to Dean.

****

Dean stumbles into your shared bedroom, shutting the door with a little more force than was probably necessary and groaning at the headache that was forming behind his eyes. “Hey, baby.” He grins at the sight of you perched on the edge of the bed, a small smile on your face as watch him.

“Hey.” You greet him back, brow quirking as he makes his way over to you with a sway in his step. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Not enough.” He groans, towing off his boots and throwing himself face first on to the bed, eyes drooping closed almost immediately.

You sigh sadly at his pain. Dean’s never been good at dealing with his emotions, choosing to bottle everything up until it all reaches a boiling point. The other night was proof of that. You’d heard his drunken yelling as things smashed against the walls, as well as Sam’s voice, pleading for his brother to calm down.

“Dean.” You call softly, leaning over his body, lips almost brushing his ear. “Dean, we need to talk.”

“Later.” He grumbles. “Need some sleep.”

Your heart breaks even more. Unlike Dean, you don’t have the option of bottling everything inside. The both of you need to talk desperately. Because you can’t continue the way you’re going. It’s not fair to him and it’s not fair to you.

“Dean. This has to stop.” Your voice cracks at the end. This is going to be the hardest thing either of you has had to do. But it’s time. “You need to let me go.”

His eyes snap open and his body jerks off the bed to sit himself up right, and he looks at you with an expression that can only be compared to terror. “No!” He roars. “How can you say that?! Ask me anything, baby. I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t ask me to do that. Please.” Tears brim in the corners of his eyes and you hear the quiver in his voice. Your heart shatters in your chest as you keep your eyes on his.

“You have to.” You press. “This isn’t healthy, baby. You need to let me go. I don’t belong here anymore. We both know that.” A tear trickles down your cheek. “It’s not your fault what happened. You can’t keep punishing yourself over it.” You smile.

He sniffs, wiping roughly under his eyes to rid his cheeks of the tears. “Why’d ya do it? Shoulda been me.” He bares his teeth in anger.

It was supposed to be a simple hunt. A werewolf been terrorizing a small town and when the three of you had tried to take it down, things had gone horribly wrong. The werewolf it turned out, had a partner, and after it tried to strike Dean from behind, you’d jumped in between the two of them to save the man you loved. The next time you left the barn, Dean was carrying your cold and bloodied body in his arms. That was three months ago, and here you are still. Trapped in the veil, unable to move on due to Dean’s grief and guilt. The brothers had burned your bones on a hunters pyre, and despite not tying yourself to anything on earth, your spirit still lingered. Dean’s soul had latched tightly on to yours, desperate to keep you with him and unable to let go.

“I jumped between you and that werewolf, because you’re the only man I’ve ever been in love with. Only one for me. I could have the chance to do that day a hundred times over. And I’d still jump in front of you.” You sigh sadly. If only you’d known about the second wolf. Maybe you’d still be there with him. Able to hold his hand and kiss him awake every morning. Feel his warm skin on yours as he made love to you under the stars in the back of the impala. Maybe you’d have grown old together, had a couple of kids and gotten married. But that was never going to happen now. His heart was still beating. And your’s had stopped.

“How do I do this with you?” He whispers, eyes red as fresh tears fall. “I don’t know how to...”

You raise your hand, brushing it along his cheek, desperately wishing you could feel the heat of it against your palm. He leans into you, feeling nothing but cold air instead of warm flesh. “You’ve got Sammy.” You soothe. “He needs you too. More than I do. And you did just fine before you met me.”

“But I need you.” He whispers. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too. So much. And I’ll be waiting for you. But you need to move on from me, Dean.” He looks horrified at your suggestion, and you offer another smile of comfort. “You need to go on living. Find another girl, fall in love again. Have children with her. Marry her if she makes you happy. And one day, if I’m still what you want, I’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”

Dean’s head falls forward as he sobs into his hands. He tries desperately to catch his breath, feeling his heart splintering behind his ribs. If they could, tears would pour from your own eyes at the sight of him so distraught.

“I don’t want to let you go.” There’s an almost pleading tone to his voice, begging you to stay.

“We know what happens to ghosts that stay too long.” You say sadly. “Please don’t make me become like that.”

Dean runs a rough hand through his hair. It’s getting longer. Another thing he’s neglected since loosing you.

“I have to don’t I? I have to let you go.” He cries silently.

“Yeah, baby. You do.” You nod. You place your hand on his knee, and Dean stares at it wistfully. His eyes close as his mind flashes back to when you’d do the same thing from the passengers seat. Laughing over at him as he sang along to Metallica and you’d both head bang to Motörhead.

He remembers the first time he’d met you on a vamp case just outside of St. Louis. They’d needed backup and Garth had sent you their way with a quick phone call. Dean would never deny how he’d fallen head over heels the first time he’d seen you. Covered in vampire blood and swinging a machete like it was your own limb. He recalls the first time you’d said you’d loved each other. It had been in the middle of a heated argument after you’d been injured on a ghoul case. You’d walked away with a sprained wrist but Dean had acted like you’d lost your entire arm. He’d tried benching you and after you’d promptly punched him in the jaw for being such a Neanderthal, he’d blurted out that he refused to let the only woman he’d ever really loved kill her self out of stupidity. He’d made love to you for the first time that night. The best night of his life. He knows he’ll never love anyone the way he loved you, but if that’s what you want for him, he’ll do it. He’ll honor your memory and keep on living. He’ll do it for you.

Dean lets out a long sigh as he opens his eyes. He turns his head to look over at you and he feels his heart disintegrate in his chest. You’re gone...

*****

There you go guys! Another oneshot! I hope you enjoyed it and stay safe and stay tuned for more. More updates this week. Xx

[little-diable]

Kids again - Dean Winchester (smut)

Inspired by Sam Smiths new song “kids again”. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean and the reader have been friends since they were toddlers, but as she leaves for college, Dean cuts all ties with her, but fate doesn’t work that way, now does it? 

Can’t believe I still avoid the East side Even though I know that you don't live there now

“Dean, stop,“ her giggles echoed through the house, running away from Dean, careful not to tumble over his toys, stumbling straight into her mom’s arms. “There you are, you little monster,“ her mom picked her up, tugging her five year old daughter against her chest, hand placed on the back of her scalp, inhaling the sweet scent of (y/n)s shampoo.

He pouted, arms hanging loosely by his side, holding onto the wooden car. „Does she already have to leave?” His wide eyes made (y/n)s mother chuckle, crouching down, grasping his little hand. “She’ll be back before you notice,“ he’d hate seeing her leave for the night, but the excitement of driving to school with (y/n) and her mom in the early morning hours filled the little boy with joy.

Lately you're the only thing on my mind And I can't stop myself on drivin' by your house

(Y/n) clung onto his arms, desperately trying to sober herself up, they had been celebrating his sixteenth birthday together, sneaking off with some booze, sitting on his roof as they kept talking about their past, their future, their hopes and dreams. “Happy Birthday Dean,“ (y/n) giggled, eyes focused on him, blinking a few times, barely noticing how he creeped closer.

Before she could move away from him, Dean had pressed his lips against hers, stealing (y/n)s first kiss. She wanted to push him away, to scold him, for taking away something so special from her, but the butterflies in her belly were enough to shut her up. “Happy Birthday indeed,“ he nibbled on her swollen lower lip, hands exploring her sides, pulling her onto his lap.

The way he sucked on her neck coaxed a moan out of her, unconsciously grinding herself against the centre of his trousers. It seemed like Dean wouldn’t only steal her first kiss that night, no, he’d also be the first to explore her body, to show her what it meant to be appreciated and loved, something he would never be able to say out loud.

Every time I hear our song it kind of hurts me still Even after all this time, I kinda miss you still I'm wondering

“Shut up,“ Dean chuckled, grasping her wrist, pulling her against his chest, swaying to Ricky Nelson’s “lonesome town”, the song they called their own. “Can’t believe that you’re truly leaving for college,“ he rasped out, chin placed on top of her head, tightly holding onto her, as if she’d vanish from his sight any moment. They were surrounded by moving boxes, standing in the middle of her room, the room they had spent too many nights to count in together, from the first day they had met, almost twelve years ago.

She hummed against his chest. „You will visit me, won’t you?” Her heart was clenching, wondering if she should truly leave him and Sammy behind. “Of course I will.“

And don't it make you sad That we'll never be kids again?

But no, Dean hadn’t visited her, seeing her leave had hurted him too much, so the older Winchester brother decided to cut all ties with her, trying to forget about the girl he had fallen in love with years ago. And as much as it did hurt, (y/n) had to accept the sober truth, not once would she mention his name, not once would she listen to her mother talk about the two Winchester boys she hadn’t seen in years. 

Somehow along the way it got easier, her heart wouldn’t break in two as she’d think about him, a small smile would tug on her lips every time she’d think about their time together, all the memories they had made. Deep down she knew that their paths would cross again, one day, perhaps rather sooner than later.

“(Y/l/n)?” She had the phone placed between her ear and her shoulder, working around in her kitchen, preparing herself some dinner. “(Y/n)?” The voice made her freeze, eyebrows furrowed together, wetting her lips ere she cleared her throat.

„Sammy?” God, how much she had missed his voice, the younger Winchester brother and her always had shared a special bond. “I need your help, (y/n).“

It took him a while to explain their profession to (y/n), the problem of Dean returning as a demon and finally finding back to his true self, confused and shaken up. “He needs you (y/n),“ Sam exhaled, praying that she’d give in and make her way towards the bunker, finally reunited with the boys she hadn’t seen in years.

On the drive there she kept wondering, if she was doing the right thing, if she should truly go there, most likely getting her heart broken once again. But the slight chance of seeing him again, after years of waiting, seemed too good to be true, she had to do it, either way.

Really wish I didn't know you so well Wouldn't be so hard to leave the past behind

Sam was waiting in front of the bunker, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, wrapping his arms around her as she walked up to him. “I missed you,“ (y/n) mumbled against his skin, tightly holding onto his shirt, admiring how much he had changed, he looked so grown up, a somber feeling washed upon her.

“You haven’t changed one bit,“ the deep voice made her shiver, letting go of Sam as she crashed into Dean’s arms. „Don‘t be an ass Winchester.“ His chuckle rumbled through him, he picked her up, twirling her around, eyes finding hers. Sam awkwardly stared at them, clearing his throat. „Uhm, I’ll leave you guys alone.“ Making his way down the road, to the nearest bar.

She followed Dean inside, shrugging off her coat, trying to find the right words, she desperately wanted to ask him, why he had vanished just like that, leaving their friendship behind, almost like it had never existed. But all her thoughts seemed to leave her as Dean pressed his lips against hers, kissing her for the first time in years. “I’m sorry,“ he mumbled against her lips, towering above her, hands placed on her hips, thumb wandering underneath her shirt, tracing her skin.

It took her a few moments to catch her breath, hands placed on his chest. „There’s a lot we should talk about.“ The words made him groan, his typical smirk tugged on his lips. „We‘ll have enough time to talk.“ ean nibbled on her neck, pulling (y/n) into his lap as he sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, he wouldn’t miss this opportunity, not after years of dreaming about and aching for her.

He had ripped her shirt over her head, lips instantly attached to her cleavage, hands undoing her trousers, fingertips teasing the outlines of her panties. “Fuck, I missed this,“ Dean rasped out, she rose from his lap, shrugging off her jeans, dropping to her knees, unzipping Deans trousers, grasping his hard lenght.

Tell me how you live without it Did somebody change your world And now you don't look back?

Dean had almost forgotten how perfectly her hands would fit around him, stroking him like she had been doing on different occasions, just before she’d leave him and Sammy behind. His head rolled back, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted, hands grasping her hair. She couldn’t take her eyes off the gorgeous man in front of her, pressed one last kiss to his tip before she moved away from him.

She found her way back onto his lap, wet folds pressed against his length. „You sure?” He groaned, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself, if he’d give in and fuck her right there and then. (Y/n) nodded her head, placing her hands on his shoulders, sinking down on his length.

(Y/n) pressed her forehead against the crook of his neck, balancing her weight on her toes, moaning his name, she had almost forgotten how big he was, deliciously stretching her. No other man had ever managed to bring that heavenly feeling upon her, every time somebody else would touch her, her mind would wander back to Dean.

“God, you’re still so tight,“ Dean growled, hips meeting hers, thrusting deeper into her heat. „Missed you,“ she whimpered, tightening her hold on his shoulders. Dean pulled her in for a kiss, tugging on her roots. „I missed you too.“

And now you don't look back Cause we'll never be kids again No, we'll never be kids again

He kept holding her gaze, lips parted, moans spilling from his lips, getting pulled back into the emotions he had kept hidden away for years. He wouldn’t be one to voice out his love for her, Dean wasn’t one for sappy shit, but oh, he’d do his best to prove his love to her for the rest of his life, not letting go of her ever again.

[typinggently]

"With astonishment Aschenbach noticed that the boy was entirely beautiful.”

And that's cheesy, it really is. And yet. When the guy climbs out of that sleek-black machine, it’s the only thing he can think of. Hair too dark to be truly blond, too golden to be anything but. Full lips, sharp jawline. Broad shoulders, fawn eyes.

He stops where he’d been in the process of unlocking the door of his motel room in favour of watching the guy as he bends over, one palm on the roof of the car, and speaks to someone on the passenger’s side. The distance between him (the rooms) and the guy (the parking lot) is too great to make out his words or even the cadence of his speech, but it seems obvious that he’s got to be liquorice-voiced, sweet and rough. Two pats to the roof, then he straightens, rounds the car.

The passenger’s door opens and he — Aschenbach, for all it’s worth — waits with bated breath for the other person to step out. It’s a disappointment. Tall, too tall to be properly pleasing to the eye, with fox eyes and fir honey hair. Has to be a brother, then, since beauty is drawn to beauty, and that desire can only be overridden through family bonds. But well. The brother wanders off towards the reception, so Aschenbach retreats into his own room, satisfied in his knowledge that this man of exceptional personal beauty is staying not too far away from him.

—

He sees them again a few days later, at the pool. Not a place he would frequent usually, cracked tiles and the sharp stench of chlorine, but he’d hoped that the flannel-clad Caravaggio would be the type to indulge himself that way, so he’d taken his chances. Caravaggio is wearing dark swimming trunks that make him look pale despite his honeyed tan. There’s a rose petal blush on his shoulders and the bridge of his nose that hint at a sunburn, at delicate skin. He’s sitting on the edge of the pool, splashing water as he’s talking to his Cranach brother, who’s reclining on a sun-bleached beach chair, paging through a paperback and evidently not listening. A self-righteous anger burns through Aschenbach on Caravaggio’s behalf at every low hum Cranach utters. At some point, he shifts his knee when the beautiful creature puts a hand on his thigh and Aschenbach almost gets up to slap him for his indifference.

In an attempt to soothe his frayed nerves, Aschenbach returns his attention to his newspaper, losing himself in articles bare of any meaning while one ear tries to pick apart the low rumble from across the pool.

An hour in, theres a shout, Dean!, a splash.

Aschenbach looks up, honest shock and surprise, and catches the sight of Caravaggio, gorgeous, gorgeous!, with his head thrown back in laughter as his brother struggles to find his footing in the pool. When he does, he hauls the soaked-dripping paperback at the gorgeous boy, hits him square in the chest. It only makes Caravaggio laugh harder and Aschenbach can’t help but smile in turn. He deserved that, he really did, broad shoulders and dripping hair. Besides — Dean. That knowledge settles warm in Aschenbach’s stomach. He should probably return to his paper, but Cranach reaches for him — Dean, and pulls.

Another splash, the two of them in the chlorine-blue water, and like this, the difference in appearance is almost enjoyable. The dark tan makes Dean look rose-kissed and pale, broad shoulders and trim waist. Big paws on wrists that look delicate in comparison. But Cranach overdoes it, wraps his huge arms around his beautiful, rose-mouthed brother, dips him underwater. Dean’s laughing, glittering with water, his hands pushing, slipping on broad shoulders, fisting in dripping-long hair. Aschenbach frowns, shakes his head at the tall-rough brother and his frivolous audacity.

—

It’s late. Aschenbach wouldn’t be up at this hour, but the humid heat gave him a headache that made it impossible to sleep. He’s on his way back from the reception desk, a pill clutched in hand, when he hears the rumble of a car in the parking lot. And it could be any car, but Aschenbach pauses anyways, hidden in the shadows by the rooms, and waits.

“Hey, I can walk, you know?” Liquorice, rough and sweet. Melting, slurred. “Yeah, I’m sure.“ Low amusement that burns through Aschennach, makes him frown.

Dean stumbles sweetly, stumbles into the arms of his fox-eyed, big-pawed brother. “Just because you can’t stomach half a bottle of beer, you big girl—“ They make their way towards the rooms and Aschenbach waits, pressed into the shadows, for them to stop by their room.

Not close enough to touch, but close enough that the plush-wet curve of Dean’s lower lip shimmers in the moonlight, his face half-concealed in a web of shadows. The way he’s leaning into his brother’s side makes it harder to differentiate between the two, more difficult to make out the shape of his wrist, his shoulders. Aschenbach wishes he were alone, leaning against the wall and fumbling with his keys. Maybe he’d step out of the shadows, then, and offer his help. Maybe —

“Hey, Sammy.”

The key slips into the lock. “What?”

A hand tangling in soft waves, a gentle tug. “Sammy.” Softer, this time, lips brushing skin.

”De, c’mon. Lemme get the door open, ok?” Gentle, warm.

“Just one, yeah? No one’ll see, Sammy, c’mon. Just one.” Another tug, voice a soft, pleading whine. “You’re impossible.” Helplessly amused. Still, he shifts, pushes the dark silhouette of his pretty-soft brother against the wall.

The shadows entwine, fabric shifts, brushes. Moonlight catches on a sliver of bare skin, layers impatiently pushed and tugged aside by drunk-warm hands. The slow, deep slide of lips, tongue. A shift in broad shoulders, a strong back, followed by a Caravaggesque sigh, rose petal soft, hidden in the dark. Hands fisted in long hair, a half-swallowed moan.

A click, the slide of a door over carpet floors. “Now get in, yeah?” Breathless laughter. “So bossy, baby.” A stumbling step, then a hand fists in flannel and a hulking-huge shadow is pulled over the threshold. The door slams shut.

Aschenbach stands, frozen.

—

(“We are not going to the pool again.”

”C’mon, man.” Dean pauses in his self-indulgent task of sucking a line of hickeys down the side of Sam’s throat. “You can’t possibly be mad about that dumb book still.”

”what? No. But I don’t want to come across that creep again.“ Sam shifts a little, pulls Dean half on top of his chest so he’s not in danger of tumbling off the Queen-sized bed.

Dean frowns, rests his chin on Sam’s chest. “What creep?”

Sam tilts his head to look at him, eyes almost crossed with the weird angle. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice. That weirdo who kept staring at you.”

Dean sniffles, thinks back to the pool. “No clue, man. Guess I was too distracted by the view.“ Grins, squeezes Sam’s pec for emphasis.

With a groan, Sam lets his head fall back, slaps at his shoulder. “You’re impossible.“ But he’s pink around the nose, so that’s just as well in Dean’s book. Who cares about anyone else, anyways?)

[cringemesstickles]

Hide And Seek With A Catch…

(TickleTober Day 4: Hide And Seek)

Summary: Dean is bored of hide and seek (Sam and Dean are 4 and 8 in this fic)

Pairing: NONE!!!! OBVIOUSLY

Word Count: 1220

A/N: Weechesters again because uhhhh I wanted to

———————————————————

“De, De, De, De-”

“What, Sammy?” Dean grumbled, barely looking up from his comic book to address his little brother. Dean rarely ever got time to him since he’s supposed to look after his little brother, Sam. And whenever it seemed like he finally got a moment of peace, that little boy with puppy dog eyes was right there.

Sam, unaware of his brother’s mild annoyance, shouted “Play!”

Part of Dean wanted to snap and tell Sam to go away, but he knew he couldn’t… he didn’t wanna make the kid cry or anything. So instead, he begrudgingly sighed and set his comic book aside, giving the younger his undivided attention.

“What do you wanna play, kid?”

Sam’s eyes lit up, utterly ecstatic that the older boy agreed to play with him. The sight alone was precious enough to tell Dean that he made the right decision. “Hmm…” Sam hummed, tapping his chin before his head perked up. “Hide’n seek!”

Dean groaned at that. Every time Sam wanted to play, it was almost ALWAYS hide and seek… “Again?”

The grumbly question caused Sam to deflate. He knew this was serious… he had to pull out his ultimate weapon.

He very subtly stuck out his lower lip, furrowing his brows and widening his eyes just enough, looking at his brother through his long lashes. It was his trademark puppy dog expression.

“Pweeeease?” He whined, clasping his hands together pleadingly.

At the sight of that dreaded puppy dog look, Dean felt his irritation shatter, replaced with extreme guilt… he knew the kid was playing him like a fiddle, but he just couldn’t help it. The puppy dog eyes were just too powerful.

“Fine…” He huffed, but then a small smirk tugged at his lips as he got an idea… “but let’s make it interesting.”

The younger Winchester tilted his head curiously. What could possibly make hide and seek more interesting than it already was?

“If I find you, I get to tickle you.”

Oh… that’s what.

Sam’s eyes shot wide open and he immediately burst into giggles at the prospect “H-Huh?! But-”

But nothing. Dean didn’t give the younger boy any time to protest before putting his hands over his eyes and counting.

“One… two… Better hide, Sammy… the clock is ticking.”

Sam didn’t need to be told twice. He scrambled away, trying not to giggle too much. Where could he hide?! The motel room didn’t have nearly enough spots! With stakes this high, Sam needed the best hiding spot ever!

“Five… six…”

Crap!!!

Without a second thought, Sam dived under the bed right in front of Dean. Genius, right? Why on earth would he check there? He put his hands over his mouth and tried to hold his breath, his heart racing with excitement.

“Nine… Ten! Ready or not, here I come!”

The older Winchester uncovered his eyes and scanned the room, not seeing the kid immediately like he usually did. But then his gaze wandered back to the bed in front of him and he saw something in his peripheral… two little feet sticking out from under the bed.

Of course… Dean had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing at his younger brother’s frankly pathetic attempt at hiding. He was always hiding in plain sight with some body part sticking out. Nevertheless, Dean always drew it out, just to let the little guy think he had a chance.

“Aw, man… I wonder where Sammy is. He’s not in any of his usual spots.” He thought out loud, taking a few steps away from the bed.

The boy giggled quietly, his little toes scrunching with anticipation. Dean huffed at the sight, trying not to laugh at the painfully obvious hiding spot. He circled back around, crouching down in front of Sam’s feet. With a mischievous grin, he swiped a finger down the tiny sole. The younger boy squeaked and tugged his foot under the bed, causing Dean to finally let out a chuckle before getting back into character.

“AHA!” He exclaimed, wrapping his hands around Sam’s other ankle and pulling him out from under the bed and into his lap, delighting in the loud squeal that escaped the kid.

“I found you! Now I get to tickle you!” Dean growled playfully, hastily scuttling his fingers up Sam’s sides and onto his ribs, eliciting happy laughter from his baby brother.

“EEK! Noooo! Dehehee!” Sam squealed, kicking and squirming in his brother’s lap as the tingly sensation attacked his nerves.

Man… why was Dean so grumpy about playing with his little brother? He couldn’t be happier right now. The boy’s joyous reactions easily rub off on the elder, melting his heart and making him join in on the laughter.

“Jeez, Sammy… did you get more ticklish?” He snorted, scratching gently at the kid’s armpits, laughing even louder when the boy screeched and slammed his arms to his sides, writhing uncontrollably.

“Deeee! N-No fahahair!” Sam gave a giggly whine, his laughter bouncing off the walls of the small motel room. He loved it when Dean tickled him… it made him feel almost overwhelmingly joyful.

“Oh, it’s plenty fair… rules are rules, squirt!” He chuckled, moving to bury his face in the crook of his brother’s neck, nuzzling the soft skin and listening to the happy squeaks and giggles.

Getting a devilish idea, Dean sucked in a sharp breath and blew a raspberry into Sam’s neck, gently digging into his tummy at the same time, creating a deadly tickle combo.

Sam let out a shriek before bursting into high pitched cackles, which eventually dulled down and went silent. That, along with his cherry red face indicated that it was time to stop.

Dean slowed his fingers and ceased the raspberries, laughing as he rested his chin on Sam’s shoulder. He wrapped his arms protectively around the kid, giving him a squeeze.

“You okay, Sammy?” He chuckled, rubbing the boy’s belly to help ease the after tickles.

Sam, still giggling, nodded his head, his dimpled cheeks still rosy, but gradually going back to their normal color.

“Uh-huh… you a really good tickler, De.” He hummed, a sleepy lilt to his voice.

Dean’s heart melted once more… it was a silly compliment, but it felt like high praise to Dean. He cherished the little boy in his lap, and when he got to make him happy like this, nothing felt better.

“Thanks, buddy… you sound a bit sleepy.”

“Am not…” The younger whined, though he nestled further into Dean’s arms, enjoying the cuddle time. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, right. How about we read that comic book together?” He offered, knowing Sam would fall asleep instantly.

Sam yawned, about to hesitate before he gave in, nodding. “Comic book…”

Without further questions, Dean hoisted his little brother into his arms and set him on the bed, following after him and pressing his back against the headboard before finally tucking the kid into his side, a protective arm slung around his shoulder.

It only took about four panels before the younger Winchester was out like a light. And despite Dean’s desire to continue reading, he found his own eyes growing heavier, the coziness, warmth, and Sam’s soft snores lulling him to a relaxed, sleepy state. It wasn’t long before Dean eventually followed Sam into dream land.

[herstarburststories]

Merry... Birthday?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: You love christmas, but Dean doesn’t. Yet, he might make an exception for your birthday this year.

A/N: This one goes for @negans-lucille-tblr​ ‘s secret fic exchange. My secret Santa was @katymacsupernatural​. Hey, honey! I hope you enjoy this and happy birthday! You deserve double presents, so here’s mine. All mistakes are mine!

Divider by @talesmaniac89 !

You loved Christmas.

It was probably a nostalgic longing for your long gone urban life. Just in the same way you’d still catch yourself looking through the news for election results or feel your stomach twist if you didn’t eat homemade food at least twice a week. You were dead to the government and certainly spent more on the road than in a home. Besides, you had met up with God enough times to know him. All the encounters and screaming and unapologetic abandonment should make you want to throw any baby Jesus against a wall or even climb on a Christmas tree just to shout about all the hoaxes so perfectly molded in patterns through our brains like braids.

Yet, something about you loved christmas. 

The pretty lights always shining, it didn’t matter where you go. For once, all the city-- everything would be entirely made of light. Their incandescent glow always companishing each person, either it was in an once treacherous alley or only to make the kids' grin bigger as they watched them among the busy streets with wide eyed gazes. The confusion in the kitchen that often ended up with huffs bursting into chuckles between the smell of meals that were too much and would make a room for leftovers for the rest of the week. How everything seemed to be made only of happiness, and nothing could ever cut through those water; all the knives were suddenly swords for kids to play and no white gun. In Christmas, a house became a kingdom for every heart. Everything was good and felt through the skin to the bone, like a single glimpse, a hidden day of what would be paradise.

That was how you were raised, at least. The Winchesters didn’t share the same mindset, no. While you grew up with decorating the tree, they were hiding bodies in the dim light. Leftovers were all through their whole year, and Christmas was described as good or not with one single criteria: snow streets. They had to take one? Annoying date. They didn’t and there was eggnog? Bearable Jesus’s birthday.

Yet, you attempted to make the bunker the more festive possible: buying a bunch of christmas lights, cookies’ ingredients and even a small nativity scene. Your attempts to enjoy the date’s niciities ended up with Sam breaking his arm after crashing on the ground because you insisted on him putting the lights in a place higher than his age, not to mention the burned cookies that looked more like tiny monsters than gingerbread men.

Your parents used to make this look so much easier.

Although the youngest Winchester understood a little more about the concept of holidays, a believer in the good until the very end, his brother didn’t share the idea. You couldn’t say you were surprised. Dean just had two barely normal christmas in his life: one when he was dying and one with Lisa and Ben. Both situations made it to his heart only to shatter from the inside.

‘’Baby Jesus?’’ Dean snorted, shaking his head at the sight of you adjusting the weird little dolls in the nativity. He placed another ruined cook in his mouth, speaking with his mouth full next: ‘’We have the son of Lucifer, guess that counts.’’

‘’Don’t say that once Jack gets home.’’ You rolled your eyes, turning to face the oldest Winchester with your hands on your hips. How could he eat that? You couldn’t even make it a bite and Sam only had half of those. ‘’And stop eating those. They are burned.’’

‘’I’ve had worse.’’ He remarked, adding another cookie to his mouth. You grimaced, wondering for a brief moment how your boyfriend could be simultaneously the guy who saved the world and a man with the taste of a five years old.

‘’Yeah. But I’m the one who has to hear you whining about your bellyache later.’’

‘’I don’t whine--’’ You arched your eyebrows at his statement, making Dean huff in agreement. ‘’That was once and because of Sam’s weird ass vegan bacon.’’

‘’You acted like you were dying.’’

‘’My tongue was!’’

‘’So get this.’’ Sam’s voice interrupted your childish argument, catching the attention of both hunters like a shiny object did to a cat. ‘’Apparently we got an earlier christmas gift.’’

‘’What is it?’’ You asked, approaching the table.

‘’Three teenagers disappeared in the forest, all personal objects left behind.’’ Sam explained as Dean scratched out his neck to glance at his brother’s computer screen. Nothing like a case in Colorado. ‘’The authorities think it’s a serial killer. But one of the girls, Kayla Wodson, said she saw a weird, skinny giant take her friends.’’

‘’Ho ho ho and three bodies.’’ Dean clapped his hands together with a wry curve of lips. ‘’Alright. Let’s hit the road-- Wait, wait, wait. Where do you think you are going?’’

You were standing beside Dean while Sam raised to his feet, ready to pack his bags. Dean, nonetheless, was quicker than his brother, soon putting himself in front of Sammy; hands protectively standing in front of the youngest’s chest to keep him from moving any further.

He shook his head with a scoff. ‘’Dude, come on.’’

‘’Not happening, Sammy. You got a broken arm.’’ You mumbled a sorry along Dean’s big brother speech, to which Sam replied with a comprehensive smile. ‘’Y/N and I take care of it.’’

‘’He’s right. Must be the first time in his life, but he is.’’ Dean turned his head, furrowing his eyebrows at you ‘’Don’t worry. It’s just a wendigo anyway. ‘’

‘’Okay. Just…’’

‘’Don’t forget the fireblazer. As if your brother would miss an opportunity to use it.’’ You scrunched up your noise, causing a chortle out of Sam while Dean commented something about grabbing the specific instrument and walked away. ‘’Maybe you could call Eileen. Ask her to help you to back some christmas cookies.’’

Sammy shook his head at your wiggling brows. ‘’That doesn’t sound as sexy for me as it does for you.’’

Dean Winchester was good with numbers.

Not the urban numerical sense of the deal, of course. He almost didn’t make it in sixth grade with useless geometry and all that, and he still used his fingers to count when he had to deal with an equation. No, his good and quick way with numbers was easier, intrinsic to his head.

How many years since mom died? Seventeen. How many people did he have to save? All of them. How many years had he left? Less than he once owned.

Hunter math was simpler, and was all he really needed since he was four years old, running from the fire with his baby brother in his arms-- which brought him to the second section of his particular geometry: birthdays and death anniversaries. Dean never, ever forgot any special date. Those were his own holidays, the only worth celebrating and remembering. His wishes, grief, and cherishment were reserved for the people he loved, not some celestial assholes who saw his life like a book.

Therefore, his mind went on a golden rush for your day as soon as the Wendigo hunt took more than you both expected. You wouldn't be able to make it home before your birthday, which would be ending shortly, a matter of two or three hours. His inner engineers were useful tonight, in his vision, useful enough to make those sappy movies jealous. While you were washing some guts and leaves away, Dean went to the nearest convenience store. His long arms nesting a bunch of stuff he never dared to touch in years. The cashier with drowsy eyes and escarlet Santa hat seemed bored with his shopping, probably because she saw an uncountable amount of people buying the same things over and over. He couldn’t blame her for the suburban exhaustion. If anything, it was a small comfort for his war orbs to see and be a part of a scene so mundane.

He hustled back to the dive motel room, singing in relief to himself once he stepped in and heard you singing Christmas Tree Farm while the water rushed in. He grimaced at himself for recognizing that Taylor Swift song. How couldn’t he? That woman was 80% of all you heard everyday. Man, he was whipped.

Tilting his head back in reality, he started organizing in clumsy manners of putting everything in place for you. His bruised hands touching so carefully the fragile ornaments to make the motel room with grubby walls and weird black stan on the floor that only seemed to grow a little more like you.

You, the woman who put up with him, who laughed at his stupid jokes, and who watched Scooby Doo, all snuggled up to him every friday. You, the woman who switched from AC/DC to Taylor Swift and then Eric Clapton. You, the one who understood his job and helped him to wash off some of the blood on his hand and never got scared of how red the water could get. You, the girl who rolled her eyes at his first attempt of flirting and now stole his french fries and kissed his lips as if he was worth being delicate with. You, his breathing, his true holiday, his only act of faith besides Sammy.

Dean pressed his teeth against his bottom lip, looking up and down his little manual work. Part of him said it was ridiculous, he surely would make a lot of fun of Sam if he did that to a chick. Yet, mostly he was proud. He wanted you to like it. It wasn’t even near to what you deserved, but it was a piece of it. It was what the Winchester could give you, and that would be hopefully, enough.

While Dean was caught in the crossroad of judging and admiring his surprise, you left the shower with a towel wrapped around your head and lips mumbling Cocaine. Your feet glued to the ground once you witnessed what was in front of you: the room was decorated with christmas lights, a tiny plastic tree on the table, right beside a pie with candle on the top and two cup of what smelled like hot cocoa.

‘’Dean…’’ Your tender tone brought him back from his traineck thoughts as he turned around to glance at you. You chortled in astonishment as he raised his eyes and said surprise! ‘’What’s this?’’

‘’Well, it’s your birthday.’’ He shrugged, scooting closer to you with a smirk. Dean smoothly wrapped his arms around your waist, yours instantly resting around his neck. ‘’In my defense, they just had christmas stuff. Blame your parents for having you close to Jesus’ special day.’’

‘’Christmas stuff include pie and not cake?’’ Your brows knitted together, a heartwarming smile on your lips as you watched his expression marked by multicolored little lights. He smelled like something was a blaze, and you knew that was for standing too close to the candle and not for burning a body this time. Small changes.

He scoffed humorously. ‘’You like pie better anyway.’’ He nodded at the carnival-like situation around you two. Dean Winchester wasn’t the kind of man who got insecure, but you could catch a perk of brand nervous hesitation as his green eyes shot you an anxious glance. ‘’Did you like it?’’

‘’I loved it.’’ You pulled cheeks dimpled with joy that was kissed by Dean’s own smiling lips. The kiss was so gentle, it was his own palpable light hearted emotion. You being happy in his arms. It had been so long since he felt he could be enough, he could make someone happy. But you were right there. As you pulled away, another short kiss was given between playful words: ‘’That’s what I call a christmas miracle.’’

‘’Shush.’’ He leaned in and pecked your lips. As Dean pulled back, he couldn’t help but watch around with the pride of Hubris. His glance went back to you, a lopsided grin on his face. God, you loved that smile. You loved that man. ‘’So I added some whiskey to the hot cocoa. We could drink some, eat the pie, and see if those lights make a good improvise rope. What do you tell me?’’

All you could do was kiss him again.

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[apocalypseornaw]

Always be Yours- 2

Word Count 5,437 *not my gif*

Story Summary: Inspired by the 2 part I did of the same title. Follows Dean and Reader through season 9 into season 10

Chapter Summary: Adaddon is back and using two hunters to draw the boys into a trap so of course you're right there with them

Warnings: cursing, fights, minor character death

Dean could hear your laughter drifting down the hall the moment he stepped out of his room. You'd only been at the bunker a week or so but you'd always had a habit of making any place feel your presence. Hell even Crowley asked if he could see you when he found out you were there. Kevin was acting more normal than he'd ever seen the kid and it was a bit of a relief to know he wasn't the only one keeping a close eye on Sam should Ezekial decide to not hold up his end of the bargain.

He headed towards the kitchen and could hear music. The closer he got he made out the tune of "You give love a bad name" when he stepped around the corner he was met with the sight of Sam spinning you around while you sang along word for word. Kevin was sitting at the table working on a large stack of pancakes and laughing at the show of you and Sam dancing around the kitchen in your pajamas. The two of you had formed a close friendship back when you were both the youngest kids being pawned off on Bobby during hunts and Dean would be lying if he said he didn't wish you were as comfortable around him as you were Sam.

He could still remember the first case him and Sam worked solo with you. It was the Croatoan virus. You hadn't blinked an eye when you refused to leave Sam's side when he was exposed telling them both that if they were giving in so were you. Over the years you'd been in and out of their lives and the day he'd been dragged out of hell you showed up at Bobby's and had a blade to his neck before him or Bobby could explain. When they proved it was really him that was the first time you'd ever hugged him. You'd pratically squealed when you jumped into his arms "Dean! You're back!"

You always had a habit that no matter how long you went without seeing him or Sam you always treated them as if you'd just seen them the day before. When Sam was soulless you helped him to track down Death to get Sam's soul back. He'd never seen you back down from a fight especially if someone you cared about was fighting.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when you slid to a stop in front of him and held a hand out to him. "C'mon Dean" you pleaded and he shook his head "I haven't even had my coffee yet Y/N" you being the ever persistent woman you were rolled your eyes then looked over your shoulder at Sam "Be a good little brother and fix the man some coffee" Sam grinned as he moved to grab Dean's mug and you turned back around to Dean with a smile "So now what's your excuse?" the song switched to "Have you ever seen the rain" and your eyes lit up when he hummed the first couple bars before hesitantly taking your hand.

You slid your arms up around his neck and he put his hands at your waist careful not to catch the bare skin when your shirt rode up slightly. Normally he'd feel stupid as hell dancing in the kitchen? Especially with an audience but the smile on your face was worth it, most of the time you tried to keep up the front of a fearless hunter but since Bobby's death you'd started to let your guard fall more often and around more people than just Sam. When the song ended you winked at him and said "Who knew Dean Winchester can dance?" then moved to turn the player down. Sam cleared his throat and looked from you to Dean before holding the coffee out "Want your coffee Dean?" when you turned your back Sam raised his eyebrows and Dean shot him a glare "Thanks Sammy" you thankfully didn't see the look passed between them when you turned around to ask Kevin if he wanted orange juice.

-------

The ease of the morning was interrupted by a phone call coming in about a busload of bodies found on a naval base. That mixed with the freaky storms and dead cattle circling that area screamed demon. You grabbed your duffel bag and the bag with your fed suit then stepped out of your room and met up with Kevin in the hallway. He glanced down towards the armory so you shot him a smile "Just stay away from him Kev. He'll try to get into your head and it's not worth it" he gave you a small smile in return "I'll stay away from him Y/N" he turned to head to the library so you headed for the map room where Sam and Dean stood waiting. Dean's eyes skimmed over you and your crossed your arms "Is there a problem Dean?" he met your eyes and smirked slightly "Naw, just you're gonna be a lot more fun to look at all day than Sammy here" you rolled your eyes and chunked your duffel bag to him considering they both already kept go bags in baby's trunk "Easy tiger, we got work to do"

You walked next to Sam up the stairs talking about the case and what could possibly be waiting.

------

When Dean rolled to a stop right outside the area that had been tapped off you slid your ID into your pocket then climbed out the backseat. You had stopped off about ten miles back for all of you to change into your suits. "This place reeks of sulphur" Sam muttered and you nodded "Between the stink and the storms.." "Mixed with the dead cattle I'll take demons for a thousand Alex" Dean finished holding the police tape up for you to walk underneath.

The MP noticed the three of you and headed your way so you pulled your badges out while Dean did the introduction "Agents Stark, Banner and Barnes. FBI. Just need to have a look around" She didn't hesitate to ask "Why? This is a military case, not a federal one" "Well that's not what our supervisor said" you interjected and if anything you speaking seemed to make her attitude that much worse "That so? Then maybe him and I ought to have a chat" Sam cut his eyes at you and Dean said "Ok" then pulled his phone out. You wondered what he was doing and leaned up slightly to see him hit Kevin's number.

"Hey boss, we got a little problem" poor Kevin you just hoped he knew to play along. After a beat Dean continued "Yeah just a local badge needs a little confirmation we're supposed to be here. How the word came down from FBI headquarters in D.C." you were glad you were used to situations like this because if not you probably would've laughed imagining how confused Kevin must be but nonetheless Dean said "Yeah" then held the phone out to the MP.

She looked between the three of you before saying "This is sergeant Miranda Bates. Who am I talking to?" She looked back at Dean who you knew by far wouldn't break before asking Kevin "How old are you?" you were started to get annoyed with her attitude when she said "Listen kid, I don't have to do anything and I don't take orders from the feebs so unless you can give me one good reason you got a couple of pretty boy agents and their handler poking around my crime scene" "Handler?" you scoffed and Sam reached a hand out to pull you back next to him as she kept ranting "I'm gonna put them in cuffs and spank your ass raw"

Her face fell at something Kevin said "What?..How did you find that?" You looked between the boys to see if they had any idea what Kevin was telling her but they both shrugged. She finally said "Yes sir" then handed Dean's phone back and walked away.

Dean was barely holding back a smile when he said "Kevin, what the hell did you just do?" Sam motioned to the bus so Dean waved the two of you ahead.

You stepped on the bus behind Sam and went to the first body while Sam started looking over a different one. "Sam look" you pushed back the guy's shirt with a pen to show the bullet hole in his chest. All the bodies had fatal wounds but they were all also long dead.

Dean then stepped up on the bus and asked "Got anything?" Sam nodded to the body nearest you "This guy was shot in the heart" "That what killed him?" he asked and Sam looked at you so you shrugged "Maybe? but like ten or twenty years ago" Dean glanced at Sam who added "All these bodies have fatal wounds but they're all old" "So meatsuits?" Dean guessed so you nodded "Bodies took a licking but demons kept them ticking"

"And now they're riding the soldiers" Sam added. Dean looked behind Sam "Hey" you looked up to see sergeant Bates walking up onto the bus with a tablet in her hands "Excuse me agents. We pulled this off the security camera. You might want to take a look" Sam reached out for it so you moved to the side so Dean could see the screen as well. It clearly showed the soldiers walking away but Sam froze on one woman in particular. You knew they couldn't tell you why in front of Bates but the moment the three of you stepped off the bus Dean said "Abaddon? Seriously?" and you knew why Sam had frozen the screen. That was the demon that had attacked the men of letters and who killed their grandfather Henry after him and her jumped through a magical portal to recent time.

"I thought you kentucky fried that meatsuit?" Dean asked Sam who shrugged "I did Dean" "Then how did she get it back?" you asked and nodded to the cop that held the tape up for you to pass. "And why's she playing G.I. Joe?" Dean said and Sam responded "No clue. Why don't you ask her when we find her?"

You slid into the backseat and pulled your suit jacket off while Dean pulled out onto the road and said "Oh I will and then I'm gonna chop her freaking head off..again"

------

After stopping off long enough for all of you to change back into normal clothes you got back on the road to the bunker. It was already dark out and you were laid across the backseat when Sam's phone rang and you heard him say "Hold on Kevin..Wait..slow down" Sam cut his eyes back when you sat up then put the phone on speaker while Kevin repeated the coordinates he'd been given then said "And she gave me two names. Irv Franklin and Tracy Bell" "Irv's a friend, don't know Tracy" Dean cut in before Kevin continued "All right, the lady said they were hunters and that if you didn't go save them that she would kill them" "Yeah heard that song before" Dean grumbled but you were looking up the coordinates to see where you were all headed.

"Dean, who was she?" Kevin asked so you answered without looking up "The bad guy" Dean asked Kevin to dig up everything the men of letters had on the knights of hell. Abaddon was one although you didn't know exactly what that entailed. After Sam hung up with Kevin you leaned up between him and Dean "The numbers point to a spot on the outskirts of Eugene, Oregon" then glanced between the two of them "Are we gonna adknowledge this is a trap right?"

"Yup" Dean said matter of factly. You turned your head to look at Sam when he asked "And we're just gonna walk right into it?" "Guns blazing" you answered and saw Dean glance your way in the mirror. "Well Y/N's with me, Sam?" Sam of course said "You know it"

------

You drove through the night and stopped a few miles shy of where Abaddon wanted to meet so all of you could be as well prepared as possible. The place was completely abandoned. Dean gave voice to your thoughts when he asked "What the hell happened here?" "A local chemical plant sprang a leak years ago. They evacuated three square blocks. Guess it's still contaminated"

"Wait? So this whole place is poison?" you asked, a little worried. "Yeah" Sam replied and you laughed when you saw Dean's hand move to cover his crotch "That's not gonna help" Sam told him with a sigh. Dean realized you'd seen him and shrugged "It doesn't hurt"

One thing you'd gotten used to was that when you hunted with them both they had a habit of keeping you between them when they could. You weren't sure if it was on purpose or not. The three of you walked further into the town then heard a slam coming from an old diner that caused you and Sam to pull your guns. Dean nodded so you covered Sam while he kicked the door in.

"Clear" you and Dean went in behind him so you kept an eye on the kitchen to make sure there was no surprises while Dean untied Irv and who had to be Tracy. You glanced back when he said Abaddon had been torturing hunters to get information on Sam and Dean. If you hadn't been with them she might have gotten her claws on you.

Dean gave Irv a shot of holy water while Sam gave one to Tracy who rolled her eyes "Happy?" she was slinging more aggression towards Sam than you would've liked but now wasn't the time. Irv nodded to you when Dean untied him "Y/N, good to see ya" "Yeah" you said then once again Tracy got mouthy with Sam when he introduced himself. You knew the look you had when Irv quickly explained "She's new. We worked a shifter job in Sacramento together. Smart but got a mouth on her" She scoffed so you clicked your tongue "Honey we ain't got time for whatever you got going on. We need to gear up and clear out" Dean tilted his head towards you "What she said"

------

You were helping Dean lay out every weapon you'd grabbed. "We got jesus juice, devil's trap bullets shoot a demon with them and put em on lockdown" He explained and you spun an angel blade in your hand "Angel blades work"

Irv took a gun loaded with Devil's trap bullets about the time Sam said "They're coming" "Good" Dean said handing you a vial of holy water. "They've got assault rifles" Sam added and you cursed under your breath "Ok, less good"

Irv looked at Dean "So, what's the play?" Dean looked at you "Give me your phone" you handed it over without question and watched him record a voice memo of himself saying "COME AND GET IT YOU DICKS" and knew his plan. You grabbed one of the cake trays and drug it over in front of him "Prop it up here" he did as you said then looked between everyone else. "Let's go"

------

All of you made it out behind the cafe so Dean looked around "We got to flank seal team douche in there so uh Irv, you and me will go left. Sam, you Y/N and Tracy go right" "Ok let's move" Sam said and reached for Tracy's arm but she shoved him back "Don't touch me" "What is your problem?" you asked feeling Dean grab you around the waist with one arm to hold you in place while he repeated the question.

Tracy's eyes never moved off of Sam "My family's dead because of him" "What?" Sam asked and in that moment you could've knocked Tracy flat just for the guilt in his eyes. She looked back at you then at Dean before saying "I watched a demon slaughter my parents and the whole time it talked about how it was celebrating how some dumb kid let Lucifer out of his cage" you looked over your shoulder at Dean and he slid his arm from around you. "Ok we got to move. Y/N you go with Sam and Irv, Tracy with me" you didn't really want to leave her with Dean in case it became a your brother did this to my people so I'm gonna do this to you type of thing but it wasn't like you were in a position to start an argument. You simply nodded and tapped Sam's shoulder "Let's go"

------

You were walking close to Sam gripping your gun and trying to keep an eye out, He had the demon blade in his hand and Irv was behind you. "Sam you copacetic?" Irv asked and Sam nodded "I'm good" Irv glanced at you then said "Good. Give me that toothpick, grab Y/N then you two get Dean and Tracy and get the hell out of here" "What?" you asked in shock and Irv explained "I'm going in there alone. I'll buy you as much time as I can"

"Irv, that's death" Sam glanced at you for help but you didn't know what to say at a friend basically asking for the two of you to be ok with him killing himself. Irv looked ashamed when he finally spoke "Yeah, well it's what I got coming..It's my fault. I was in some dive and I was sloppy and lonely" Sam glanced at you as Irv continued "And I met some girl and the next thing you know, I'm strapped to some bed and she's twisting things that ain't supposed to be twisted" "She who?" Sam questioned but you had a feeling you already knew the answer Irv saying "Abaddon" just confirmed you were right.

Irv's voice broke when he said "I gave em up. Pete,Tracy,even you Y/N. I gave em all up. So Sam you hand me that blade and you let me do what I got to do or so help me" but he had moved to the point his back wasn't blocked by any building and a shot rang out a second before Irv fell. Sam instinctively pushed you back and pulled his gun. You nodded that you were ok then you both leaned out to return fire then make a break for the diner that was across the street.

You fell in behind Sam and looked up to see one of the demon's holding you at gunpoint "Boo"

He snatched you to your feet and Sam dove for him with the demon blade but another demon popped up and knocked Sam sideways then both of you were thrown over the counter. You scrambled to your feet again about the time the third demon walked around the corner and smiled "Cool. I didn't miss the best part"

------

Safe to say you and Sam were getting your asses handed to you. He had his head slammed into a wall and you thought he was unconscious then suddenly his eyes glowed blue and he looked at "GET DOWN" "Bout time you pop up" you muttered diving back behind the counter and tucking yourself into the smallest ball possible as Ezekiel's wings shown on the wall of the diner.

You stayed in that position until the door of the diner opened and Dean called your name. He let out a visible breath when you popped up. "Fuck don't hide again!" "He told me to!" you argued pointing at Ezekiel who was stabbing the last demon in the head with the demon blade. "They were going to kill him and her Dean" "Ezekiel?" Dean asked and you nodded. "What the hell did you do?" Dean pushed and Ezekiel turned to face him "I was protecting your brother and Y/N. I thought that was what you wanted" "Yeah of course, Thank you we're just still getting used to all this" you cut in and Ezekiel looked around "As am I" "Sam's ok?' you asked and Ezekiel explained that he had been knocked unconscious and in a way still was and wouldn't remember what happened. "So what the hell am I supposed to tell him when he comes to?" Dean asked and Ezekiel held the demon blade out "Which was why I used the knife"

"Right, smart" Dean took the blade then looked at you when Ezekiel spoke "You are troubled still" Dean turned back towards him "Yeah it's just that uh. Yeah this is on me. I was the one who talked Sam out of boarding up hell so every demon deal, every person they kill you're looking at the person who let it happen" "Dean" you tried but he wouldn't even look at you. "You were protecting your brother" Ezekiel offered then continued "I am in Sam's head. Everything he knows I know. and I know that what you did you did out of love"

Dean scoffed "Look Zeke, I'm gonna call you Zeke. I'm not really with the whole uh love and well love" you were standing there looking between the two of them when Ezekiel said "but it is why I said yes" "Yeah and if that goes sideways that's on me too" you finally snapped at Dean "PLEASE STOP HATING YOURSELF FOR FIVE SECONDS"

They both looked a little startled so you took a breath and said "We're trusting you Ezekiel" Dean finally shook himself out the shock of you hollering at him to say "and I just hope you're one of the good guys" "I am" Ezekiel said then added "But I suppose that's what a bad guy would say...Dean Winchester you are going the right thing" you took a deep breath and look at Ezekiel "How about letting Sam take back control? me and Dean will clean up before he wakes up" Ezekiel nodded then walked over to where Sam had been knocked out and sat back.

------

Once his head drooped over you moved to help Dean load the weapons back into the bag. Neither of you spoke until Sam started to stir.

When he groaned you made it to his side first "Sam?" "Sammy?" Dean asked helping Sam to his feet. Sam looked at you "What the hell happened?" you shrugged "You took a shot to the head, I was about to be the pinata for these asshats before Dean decided to slide in and save our asses"

Sam looked at Dean "You killed three demons, alone?" Dean shrugged "Took them by surprise. Got a little messy, I got a little lucky oh and I'm awesome so there's that" Sam looked around and you smirked when he said "You are pretty damn awesome"

You heard an engine roll up and looked out the window to see Tracy roll up in baby and looked back at Dean "She gets to drive baby and I don't?" Dean tried to explain but you simply grabbed the weapons as the three of you headed outside.

------

Tracy looked at Sam "You good?" "Yeah, more or less" and you smiled when her reply was "Good." She chunked the keys to Dean "I got everything but guess I'm late to the party" "Lucky you" you muttered and walked around to get in behind Sam as Dean said "Let's blow this toxic dump. Burgers and silkwood showers on me"

------

After you dropped Tracy off at one of her friend's houses you and the boys got back on the road. You hadn't really said much to either of them. You were thinking about Ezekiel and if he truly was a good guy. Sam was used to the way you'd get quiet sometimes but Dean had looked in the mirror about a dozen times before you finally said "Speak Dean" he shrugged "You pissed at me?"

You knew you had to look as confused as you felt so he clarified "Tracy driving baby?" you laughed "Naw if you wanted to let me drive her you would" and shrugged he looked a bit hurt so you winked at him to let him know you weren't upset about that. 

------

Twenty miles from Lebanon Dean decided to stop to get Kevin some food. You were sitting in the backseat with your head leaned back while Sam checked his emails.

You glanced up when the door closest to you opened and was surprised to see Dean holding the car keys out to you "I really don't want you killing me in my sleep" you grinned and snatched them from him not risking him changing his mind.

-------

When you pulled up to the bunker and killed the engine you looked back at Dean who was watching you and smiled "Thank you" he took the keys that you were holding out and nodded "Wait, you're still staying around right?" you didn't stop to think Sam hadn't heard that conversation between you and Dean before he said "What?" you shook your head and climbed out the car "Don't worry about it Sam I'm not going anywhere any time soon."

-------

Kevin was nowhere to be found and considering Crowley killed his mom the three of you ran to the armory.

Crowley was beat up but at least not dead and neither was Kevin. "Who worked you over?" Sam asked. Crowley looked at you then said "Martin Hayward and Brandon Favors" "They did this?" you asked but he shook his head "No they're demons. Your boys wanted names, I'm giving names. They're underperformers. Spike them, You're doing me a favor"

Dean smirked "Wow, you break easy" Crowley rolled his eyes "Please,your little plan to have me stir in my own delicious juices? Pathetic. You want intel, I want things too. Maybe we can come to some kind of arrangement. Quid pro quo gentlemen" "So these names are freebies?" you asked and Crowley smiled at you "Not at all sweets.You can consider them fair trade for the enjoyment Kevin gave me" "What the hell's that supposed to mean?" You and Dean asked in unison and Crowley quirked an eyebrow at that before saying "He's my new favorite toy. Wind him up and watch him go" You glared at him "You red eyed bastard" then spun around to walk out the armory and find Kevin. You heard Dean tell Sam "Check the names, I'll help Y/N find the kid"

------

You found him packed up and trying to leave "Where are you going?" Dean asked but Kevin kept walking so you stepped in his path. "Y/N you can't keep me locked up here. I'm leaving" "Like hell" Dean said and you cut your eyes at him "Kev we told you not to talk to Crowley he messes with your head" "He said my mom was alive, that if I let him go he'd give her back"

"And you believed him?" Dean asked with a scoff. "He's still in there isn't he?" you moved to put yourself between Dean and Kevin before saying "Kev, Crowley's lying" "And if he's not?" he asked and you were glad for once that Dean answered "Than she's dead, in every way that matters anyways. We're sorry Kevin"

"I know you're dying to bolt. I get it but out that door it's angels and demons and they'd all love to get their hands on a prophet so even with Crowley here..It's still the safest place for you" you took a breath hoping you'd gotten through to the kid. "and we need you" Dean added.

It hurt your heart when Kevin assumed "Because I'm useful?" but you couldn't help but smile when Dean answered "No,because you're family. Same as Y/N. If you don't think after all we've been through together we all wouldn't die for each other man I don't know what to tell you. We're all we got but hey if none of that matters to you then I won't stop you and I won't let Y/N"

Kevin looked at you then slowly nodded "Ok" you cut your eyes at Dean "I'm gonna get him to his room then I'll come find you and Sam" 

-------

You walked into the library and heard Dean telling Sam "You have helped a lot more people than you've hurt" and guessed it was due to what Tracy said so you stepped further in and Dean waved you over and sat a glass of whiskey in front of you. 

You took it then sat down next to Sam. Dean looked back at him then said "All of that was then" he held up his glass so you did the same and bumped Sam's shoulder so he'd join in when Dean said "Here's to now"

You clicked your glasses against theirs then took a sip. "You both ready for it?" Sam asked so you looked at Dean who questioned "Ready for what?" "Fallens angels, Abaddon. Cas losing his halo, Crowley living in our basement"

You half laughed "Dean you invited me to move into a freakin sitcom" Dean shrugged "At least you have company?" Then turned his attention to Sam "What about you? How's the engine running?" 

Sam looked between the two of you before saying "Honestly? I feel better than I have in a long time. I know it's crazy out there but I look around here and I see friends and family. I'm happier than I've been in forever. It's just things are good" Dean met your eyes and nodded "Never better" 

------

Sam had already headed to bed and Dean went to check in on Kevin. You knew you wouldn't wind down for a while so you collected the books Kevin had pulled about the knights of hell and laid them out across one of the tables in the library. 

You poured yourself another glass of whiskey then sat down. You were halfway through the first book when Dean cleared his throat and you glanced up to see him leaning against the doorway "I figured you went to bed" you said and held the bottle out. He took it then sat across from you "I figured you did too"

He poured a glass then reached for one of the books so you slid it across to him. The two of you read in silence for a few minutes before he called your name. You glanced up "Yeah?" "What was that about?" You weren't exactly sure what he meant so you asked "What was what about?"

He closed the book and for once there was no humor in his face when he asked "You yelling at me about not hating myself for five minutes?" Oh that was what he meant. You finally answered "You're very self deprecating Dean even worse than Sam. I can't stand it" he nodded but still pushed "Why?"

You sighed and laid the book down pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and trying to get the words right before you spoke them "You're a good man Dean. You damn near raised Sam, you have saved so many people. You have a good heart and even when you fuck up it's due to good intentions and don't start about the road to hell being paved with good intentions you know what I mean. When it comes down to it there's no one else I'd rather have to back me in a fight or as a friend" the corner of his lips ticked up in a small smirk "um thanks?" You shrugged "It's the truth. Now let's finish with these books we're currently on then I think we should head to bed" "Yours or mine?" He teased with a smirk but you knew the best way to handle Dean was to give his own medicine right back to him so you quickly fired back "Oh honey I just don't think you could handle me"  and laughed at the look on his face "Yeah I can definitely see why Sam likes having you around" "oh and you don't like having me around not even in the least?" You asked and and he rolled his eyes then pushed the book you'd been reading back at you "Read your book Y/N" 

You turned your attention back to the book but noticed the way he kept glancing your way for the next half hour. When you finally closed your book to head to bed you stood and stretched "See you in the morning?" He nodded "I'll be the best looking one" you shook your head with a smile then headed to your room.

Tags: @akshi8278 @facadeformyrealblog

[fics-of-culture]

Angelic Affections

Requested by anonymous

Gabriel x GN Reader

Summary: When Gabriel’s favorite human gets in an accident, Gabriel is forced to deal with his fear of loosing them as well as his own shortcomings. Slight angst with fluff ending.

Words: 2,876

You hummed softly to yourself as you stood in your room packing up your go bag. Your brother Sammy had stormed into the kitchen abruptly interrupting yours and Dean’s breakfast not 20 minutes ago with a new case. 

“So get this,” Sam said as he stormed in, laptop in hand. “A string of mysterious deaths all revolving around an old, seemingly abandoned house in Nevada.” You groan in frustration, pushing away your half eaten cereal. How hard was it to get a nice morning with your brothers without having to worry about some ghost or ghoul interrupting it? 

“Haunted?” Dean asked, only half paying attention. He took a sip of his coffee, looking awfully comfortable in his robe with his feet propped up on the table the two of you were seated at.

“Seems like it.” Sam replied, scrolling through an article on his laptop. 

“You know the drill,” Dean slowly dragged his legs off of the kitchen table as he stood. “Wheels up in thirty.” 

“You’ve been watching too many procedural cop shows, Dean.” You chime in as you stand up as well, turning to head to your room. Sam chuckled as Dean just scoffed indignantly at you.

“You know I hate that shit.” He muttered to himself. You just send your older brother a shit eating smile before heading out of the kitchen and into your bedroom. 

You turn towards your dresser to pull out a pair of socks when your eye catches on the picture frame resting on top. It’s a polaroid of you and Gabe dressed in terrible matching Christmas sweaters grinning like a couple of dorks in front of a fireplace. You smiled at the memory. Gabe had gotten you a polaroid camera for Christmas last year after you complained that the angels had never had their photos taken before. 

“I don’t see why that is an issue.” Cas had said, as oblivious as ever. The three of you were sitting on a couch in the DeanCave. You sat in between the two angels, body angled to face the befuddled angel.

“Well what if there’s a moment in your life that you never want to forget? It’s like being able to preserve the happiest times in your life.” Cas cocked his head at you as Gabe listened intently. You would’ve expected him to tease you for being so passionate about this, but he seems content just to watch the conversation unfold.

“An angel’s memory does not degrade like human’s do. We have no need for such reminders.” You just groan in frustration as Gabe chuckles beside you.

“That’s not the point, Cas.” Castiel just kept looking at you with that confused expression. You let out a sigh before shaking your head, defeated by Cas’s lack of understanding.

“Good luck with that one, honey. I think Cassy here is a lost cause.” The archangel places his hand on your knee as Cas casts a small glare towards him.

It wasn’t long after that incident that you opened one of your presents during Christmas to find the vintage camera. Upon opening it, Gabriel immediately insisted that the two of you take a photo. You put in the film as Gabe knelt beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against him.

“Come on! Let’s take the picture already!” Gabriel exclaimed impatiently. He had been hyperactive all morning (You suspected that he had been sneaking Christmas cookies when you weren’t watching) and it was becoming difficult to keep up with him.

“Give me a second! I need to set it up first.” Gabriel simply tugged the camera out of your hands. Truly the angel didn’t have a patient bone in his celestial body. He flicked the camera on and you only had a brief moment to smile at it before the picture was taken. The flash had caught you both by surprise and had you blinking the spots out of your eyes for the next few minutes. But when the picture came out, you couldn’t deny that it was perfect. You had taken several photos of your boys that day, but only that photo had gotten its own frame and a special place upon your dresser. 

Suddenly you feel a presence behind you. A warm breath brushes against the back of your neck and the hairs on your arms stand up. Despite knowing that you should be attacking the intruder, a part of you felt calmed by the presence behind you. So instead you just waited to see what would happen. 

“Whatya lookin’ at there, sugar?” You let out a sigh of relief as you recognized Gabe’s voice whispering in your ear. You can’t help but feel a blush stain your cheeks as you noticed just how close he was standing. You turn around and shove him away from you in retaliation for sneaking up on you. You avoid his eyes as he shoots you a playfully offended look. 

“I was looking at that dorky expression on your face.” You tell him as you gesture to the photo. You continue your task of packing as Gabe picks up the picture frame to take a better look.

“Well excuse me princess, but I see two dorky faces in this picture.” You just rolled your eyes as he shakes the photo in your direction. Focusing back at the task at hand, you bend over your bed to place your socks in your pack. With your back turned to the trickster angel, you miss the way his eyes slide down your form before quickly turning away to place the photo back down. 

“I still don’t see why you wanted that picture taken so badly. I’m pretty sure my hair wasn’t even combed!” You turned to look at your angel. His whiskey colored eyes were crinkled in amusement.

“Does an angel need a reason to want to take a picture with his favorite human?” You playfully rolled your eyes as he said this. It wasn’t a new occurrence, him referring to you as his favorite human. He seemed to work it into every conversation the two of you had, as though he felt the need to subtly remind you how much you meant to him. The two of you hadn’t always been this close. In fact, when the two of you first met, you regarded him mainly with suspicion. This suspicion quickly turned into a deep seated hatred for a time after he forced you to live through your brother dying over and over again. It actually wasn’t until Gabriel gave his life that you started to think that your hatred may have been misplaced. Although you had barely known him, a part of you had mourned your tormenter turned savior. As you had falsely assumed that you would never see him again. Cut to 8 years later when Ketch delivered an incredibly alive Gabriel to you. You had spent the next few days taking care of the broken archangel. For some reason, you were the only one Gabriel would allow to get close to him. Although he refused to speak, you could feel a tension rising between the two of you. It all came to ahead when Asmodeus broke into the bunker and almost killed you. Gabriel miraculously got his mojo back and smited Asmodeus where he stood for even laying a finger on you. You and the newly healed trickster had been “joined at the hip” as Dean puts it ever since.

“Speaking of which, I’ve got my favorite human’s favorite show queued up on my laptop right now. What do you say we snuggle up with some popcorn and lay in bed all day.” You giggle as Gabe wiggles his eyebrows as he steps closer to you.

“Honestly that sounds amazing, but we have a hunt.” Gabe just groans in disappointment before dramatically plopping on your bed. “And after last time, Dean says you’re not allowed to come with us anymore.” You watched as Gabe made himself comfortable on your bed.

“Hey, that wasn’t my fault! You brother just doesn’t have a sense of humor.” You zipped up your pack and picked it up. You looked back at Gabe, noticing the candy bar that miraculously appeared in his hand.

“Just stay out of trouble and we can watch tv when I get back.” Your angel just let out an indignant huff as you placed a kiss on his forehead and headed towards the door. “And no eating in my bed!” You smile softly at the disappointed groan you hear behind you.

“Stay safe, sugar.” You hear him chime out before you walk out.

“I always am.”

-

Gabriel had spent the last week lounging around the bunker waiting for you to get back. Well, lounging and rigging up a few surprises for the boys. But despite the inevitable boredom that comes with staying in one place too long, Gabe couldn’t find it in himself to leave until he saw you. This hunt had come up at the most inopportune moment possible. As well having a good Netflix and chill (Gabe knows you hate it when he says that but he just can’t resist), the archangel had also planned to talk to you that night. Yes, the larger than life angel/trickster had finally worked up the courage to confess his feelings to you. Gabriel’s face scrunches up at the thought. Usually he’d be content to avoid any and all conversations involving feelings, but somehow you managed to wiggle your way under his skin and he needed you to know how much he cared for you. He couldn’t help but care for you after you nursed him back to health. You had seen him at his most vulnerable, and you didn’t leave him or try to take advantage of him. You just sat quietly with him. Taking care of his injuries and pulling out his stitches. It wasn’t until sometime after he was healed that he realized how much he loved you, and how super boned he was for falling for a Winchester. So he planned to confess over tv and snacks, but of course the life of a hunter is never that straightforward. So naturally you were whisked away on a case, leaving Gabe behind to wait impatiently for you to get back. The trickster had actually been setting up a fun little surprise in the moose’s shower when he heard the bunker door slam open.

“Well it’s about time.” Gabriel stated as he appeared before the Winchesters. It wasn’t until that sentence left his lips that he properly surveyed the scene before him. You were being held in Dean’s arms as the two brothers pushed by him without saying a word. It wasn’t the sight of you being carried that jarred him into silence. Hell, it wasn’t even the copious amount of blood covering you and the older Winchester that shocked him. (He had seen you covered in blood on multiple occasions.) It was the way your skin looked pale and cold, as though you were already dead. Somewhere in his mind, it registered that the brothers were headed to the infirmary, but before he could even think to follow, Castiel appeared before him. “What happened?” Cas could faintly hear Gabe ask. At this moment, the archangel Gabriel looked less like a divine being and more like a broken man. Cas had trouble looking into his eyes at that moment. The desperation behind them forcing the guilt to creep slowly back into Castiel’s mind.

“We thought it was just a simple haunting. It turns out a group of demons were using the site to lure hunters. The Winchesters fell right into their trap.” If Gabriel comprehended his brother’s words, he did not show it. For the first time in the hyperactive angel’s life, he just stood there. He did not move, he did not breathe. If a stranger were to look at him, they might mistake him for a statue. Cas continued on. “I managed to heal her in time, but I believe she will need rest.” With that, Gabriel was suddenly moving again. Swiftly turning to head towards the infirmary. He needed to see you. To see for himself that you would be okay. But he was quickly halted by a hand being placed on his shoulder. “I… do not think you should see her like this.” This caused Gabe to snap. 

“And why’s that, Cas? Because you couldn’t protect her? Cause you couldn’t protect my… friend from a couple of rouge demons?” Gabriel was now standing toe to toe with Castiel, angelic energy flooding the room. “You failed her Cas. You don’t get to tell me what I should and should not do.” With that, Cas’s hand slid off Gabe’s shoulder and Gabe flew away towards the infirmary. 

-

Waking up in the infirmary was a… surprise to say the least. Your head ached and your throat was painfully dry. You tried to sit up and call for someone but when you opened your eyes you noticed that the room was empty. Which was an odd sight because usually your brothers would take turns watching over you whenever you got injured. You assumed that something must have happened… until you heard the voices outside. 

“No! You don’t get to storm in here blaming everyone else for your shit!” Dean was shouting at… someone? You couldn’t really tell who or what the conversation was about. It only took you a moment before your questions were answered. 

“Ha! my shit? You’re the one who almost let your sister get killed. Again.” Dean was arguing with Gabriel. Which in itself is not surprising, but it’s very rare that Gabriel truly shows anger during these fights. But you can tell by the way his voice is quivering that he is upset. 

“She’s a hunter,” Dean continues. “This is our job. So no, you do not get to blame me for this when really, you're mad at yourself for not being there to protect her.” The conversation goes quiet after that. You hear a sigh and footsteps walking away. Slowly, the door to the infirmary is pushed open. It’s safe to say that you’ve never seen Gabriel this sullen since he’d gotten his mojo back. His head hangs down to the floor as he quietly shuffles into the room. His eyes are sunken and laced with unshed tears. You’re not quite sure what to say. Luckily, you don’t need to because at that moment, Gabriel lifts his head and meets your gaze. 

“Y/n?” He speaks your name so softly that your heart almost breaks. “How long have you been awake for?” He rushes to sit by your side. 

“A couple of minutes.” You say quietly, your voice still hoarse from disuse. Gabe silently hands you a cup of water that was sitting on the side table. 

“Why didn’t you call anyone?” You took a sip from the cup before handing it back to him. 

“You guys seemed… busy.” Gabriel grimaced a bit as you said this. 

“You heard that?” Gabe sighs as you nod your head in confirmation. He rests his hand on your knee as the two of you sit in silence for a moment. You try to crack a joke to release some of the tension.

“It’s nice to know that you’d care if I died. Sorta assumed you’d be halfway to Vegas right now.” That statement draws a little chuckle out of your angel. 

“You know, I’ll smite you if you ever repeat this to anyone but… Dean was right.” Gabriel fixes his warm eyes on you as he speaks. “I am furious with myself for not being there. You’re my human. I should’ve been there to protect you.” It’s almost jarring to see Gabriel looking this vulnerable. You’re not quite sure what to say. So you don’t say anything. In a moment that catches the both of you off guard, you surge forward to wrap your arms around the broken looking angel. He lifts his arms after a moment to hold you back and you just rest against his chest for a while. Just allowing yourself to be held by your angel. You feel him press a kiss to your head and you sigh in contentment. Despite the soreness of your body, Gabriel’s presence feels like a relief. 

“I love you, you know.” You freeze as you feel him whisper the words into your hair. You draw your head up to look Gabe in the eyes once more. You can tell from the way he’s avoiding your gaze that he’s nervously waiting for your response. You lean in slowly and Gabriel sits frozen, waiting for your next move. You can’t even feel breath coming from him. Slowly, you place a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“I love you too.” You whisper back once you pull away. The two of you don’t stay separated for long as the angel pulls you back for a more heated kiss. The two of you break apart after you realize that you desperately need air. Gabe chuckles as you gasp for breath. 

“Well I’ll tell you one thing, honey.” He says as he pulls you flush against him. “You’re never going anywhere without me ever again.”

[sams-sass]

Same Song Different Show

Hello!!! So this was written for @spnfanficpond​‘s unfic challenge. My prompt was “Africa” by toto. I don’t know what happened. I just started writing and couldn’t stop. 

Summary: This is basically changing channels, just with you and Sam instead of Sam and Dean. 

Parings: Sam x Reader 

Warnings: Fluff, language, just word length (she’s a wordy one).

---------------------------

You moved your shirt back a little to see the cut across your collarbone. Sighing from exhaustion and frustration, you licked your lips and raised the needle and dental floss to your skin.

"Fucking angels." You muttered under your breath as you moved the floss through your skin. There was a soft knock on the bathroom door, and you instantly knew it was Sam on the other side. Your stomach flipped in your abdomen, and your heart rate picked up. Tonight was weird. Really weird. The angels had come for you and Sam, talking about some divine plan that was laid out for the two of you by heaven itself. They refused to provide all the details, but it was something about the two of you being together…as in a couple. There was something they weren't telling you, and it was driving you insane. How could they drop a bomb like that on you so suddenly? You and Sam? I mean, you would be lying to say you never thought about it, dreamed about it, wished for it, but you never took your secret crush seriously. You saw how adamantly he had denied the possibility of you two. You saw the way he looked over at you like he had never even thought about you as anything other than a friend. Of course, things had gotten physical, and you ended up with a nasty cut. You held pressure on it the whole drive back; the silence in the car was deafening with unspoken words. You and Sam had shared awkward glances, and fleeting eye contact the entire time back to the motel. Neither one of you could say what was really on your mind. You couldn’t ask each other about it just yet. Soon though. Soon you would have to talk about it.

“Hey, Y/N, you doing okay in there?” His voice was soft and smooth, putting you at ease. You gulped and opened the door, finding him leaning against the doorframe. His right arm was over his head, holding his weight against the top of the door. While his left hand was placed on his hip, highlighting his trim waist. He was so close you could smell his shampoo. His beauty stopped you in your tracks, and you dropped the needle, leaving the dental floss handing from your torn flesh.

“Hey, Sam.” You said, letting your mouth turn up into a small smile that widened when he smiled back at you in the cramped space.

“Ya know, I could help with that. I don't think you are going to get a good stitch trying to do it yourself." He said, pointing to your cut. You looked down and sighed, feeling your shoulders relax slightly, and nodded at him before stepping out of the bathroom. He followed you to the bed where you sat on the edge. He grabbed a chair and sat down in front of you, taking the needle in between his fingers and beginning his work. You winced, and he stopped his movements, raising his eyes to look into yours deeply.

“You okay?” He asked, a worried expression on his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You said, giving him a small smile for reassurance. It was at that moment that you realized how close your faces were. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you made the mistake of glancing down at his lips for the smallest of seconds. He cleared his throat and licked his lips, tearing his eyes away from you and getting back to work. You didn't know what to do. A part of you didn't want to talk about it, just forget about it and never mention the craziness. Then there was another part of you that desperately wanted to talk about you and Sam together, to pull him towards you and taste his answer on his lips.

"So…tonight was weird." You said softly, casting your eyes towards the floor. His fingers stilled, and he took in a big breath. You licked your bottom lip and let it catch between your teeth, biting it as you nervously waited. He looked back up at you, and you saw his throat work as he swallowed.

"Yeah. Yeah, it was." He said. You could tell he was trying to keep his voice light.

"What do you think they want from us?" You asked, twisting your fingers together in your lap. Sam tied off the stitches and cut the floss, leaning back in the chair.

"Sounds like they want us to uh…well to be together." His voice was a matter of fact. Emotionless.

“Right, but why would heaven care if we were together or not?” You asked, pulling a leg up to your chest and tilting your head in confusion.

“I don’t know. Why do they want anything from humans?" He sounded tired—his voice heavy with sleep and something else you couldn’t place. You nodded your head and shrugged your shoulders, telling him that you agreed with his assessment.

“Well, I’m going to get cleaned up.” You said, standing up and awkwardly wiping your palms against your jeans. “Thank you for the stitch.” You pointed to your shoulder with a little smile.

“Of course.” He replied with a small smile of his own.

 ----------------------

Sam watched you walk into the bathroom and waited for the door to close to exhale. This day had turned out different than he imagined, and he couldn't stop the feelings building inside him like a tidal wave. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes tightly. What did this mean? Being put together by heaven. For what? Sighing, he opened the door and stepped into the cool air of the night. Pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing Dean's familiar number.

"Yeah?" His brother's scruffy voice greeted him.

"Hey, Dean," Sam said, stuffing his unoccupied hand into his pocket nervously.

“How’s it going?” He asked, his mouth clearly full of food.

“Alright, how’s the ghost?” Sam asked.

"Dead," Dean answered quickly. "Did the angels tell you why they were there?" He questioned his brother further.

"Yeah…they uh were here for Y/N and me. Apparently, they set this whole thing up to get us alone." Sam said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“What? Why?” Dean sounded worried now.

"Well, according to them, we are supposed to be together…as in a couple," Sam said, waiting for his brother's disapproval. There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Sam thought his brother lost connection for a second, pulling the phone away from his face to check.

"I mean, Sammy, sometimes you just have to accept divine intervention," Dean said, and Sam thought he had stepped into an alternate reality for a moment. He furrowed his brow and shook his head slightly, his mouth comically agape.

“What? No, Dean, no.” Sam stumbled through his words, unable to come up with a real excuse. Dean sighed on the other end of the phone.

“Sam. I see the way you look at her, the way she looks at you too. Maybe this time, one of us should listen to those winged bastards.” Dean said, and Sam could hear the liquid sloshing in the bottle. His phone buzzed, and he sighed in relief.

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” Sam said hastily. He opened the text on his phone, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Cas: 1276 Millwood Drive

Sam shook his head and stepped back into the motel room, making his way over to the bathroom door.

“Y/N? Hey, I got a text from Cas to meet up.” He said after knocking. He heard an audible groan in frustration before you opened the door, a bloody cloth in your hand from where you were cleaning your cut.

“About what now?” You asked, placing your hands on your hips.

"I don't know; it was just an address." He said as he grabbed his jacket and made his way towards the door. You rolled your eyes dramatically and let your shoulders slump before following after him.

 --------------------------

The address Cas sent was an abandoned old warehouse. Its rusted and worn metal roof creaked in the soft breeze. You made your way inside with flashlights in hand, looking around cautiously for your angel friend. The damp air was thick with the smell of stale mildew. There was an ominous dripping of water somewhere in the distance, and you felt as if eyes were watching you from afar. A chill ran down your spine, and you wrapped your arms around yourself.

"Where is he?" You whispered to Sam, who gave you a confused look, shrugging his shoulders and turning the corners of his lips down towards his chin. You stepped through large metal double doors at the same time and were suddenly greeted with a strange sight. You were suddenly in a living room; a beige couch and green rug were on hardwood floors. There was a mirror on the wall over a fireplace. Pictures of people you didn't know lined the sage green walls. You and Sam both looked around with confusion and fear in your expressions.

“What the hell?” Sam said. You looked over at him to give your agreement when you caught sight of him and stopped dead in your tracks. His hair was slicked back with a ridiculous amount of gel, and it looked like he was wearing bronzer. He had on grey dress pants with a flowy cream-colored shirt tucked into them with a black belt highlighting his hips. The shirt was unbuttoned down to his sternum, exposing his chest that you so often dreamt of but rarely got to see.

"Sam?" You asked with wide eyes. "What the hell are you wearing?" He turned to look at you, and his face fell slightly.

"I could ask you the same question." He said, pointing to your body. You tilted your head to the side and looked down at yourself to see what he was talking about. A silky black dress barely covered your body, clinging to your curves, and highlighting your assets. Your feet were decorated with high heels, your legs were bare, and the dress cut off at your upper thigh. You swallowed and ran your hands over yourself.

"What the fuck?" You said simply. You looked around the room again and caught your face in the mirror; your eyes widened at your reflection. Your hair was done into a glamourous updo that framed your face nicely; your makeup looked caked on and thick. Heavy and gaudy earrings sat in your ears, sticking out from your hair and almost touching your shoulders.

A loud bang made both of you jump and instinctively reach for your guns that had disappeared. You threw your arms up in frustration and turned towards the sound. A woman walked through the door that had slammed against the wall, her hips swinging as she strutted into the room. Music started from somewhere. Slow and melodramatic that reminded you of a show your grandma used to watch. You leaned your head back and stared at her. She walked directly up to you, invading your personal space. She smelt like hairspray and cheap perfume.

“You think you are so much better than me, don’t you!” She screamed in your face.

"What?" You asked, looking over at Sam, who was wearing the same look of shock as you.

“He was mine first!” She said with an over the top ugly crying face with no tears. She suddenly reached up and slapped you across the face, making you stumble slightly. You grabbed your cheek and looked at her with an open mouth and angry eyes.

“Oh. You’re in for it now.” You said, squaring up to her and rolling your neck to get the cracks out.

“And you!” She suddenly screamed at Sam. “You leave me for my sister right when I tell you about our baby?” Sam leaned his head forward and narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth to talk. She reached forward and slapped him across the face too.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?” You asked, taking a step towards Sam.

"Tell me, you don't love me!" She wailed at Sam. "Tell me that you love her more than me, and I'll leave you alone forever." She pointed at you as she spoke, her overlined lips pulling awkwardly over her teeth.

“Uh…yes?” Sam mumbled with a raise of his eyebrow. She threw herself at him, clutching his shirt in her balled fists. He leaned back and tried to get her to let go, pushing at her wrists.

"I will always love you." She whispered, her face coming dangerously close to Sam's, making him lean back even further. Whimpering pathetically, she released him and ran away with her head in her hands. The music changed suddenly, and you recognized the familiar drum beat.

It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you.

There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do.

I bless the rains down in Africa.

Gonna take some time to do the things we never had.

“What just happened?” He asked, his eyes scanning the room again in confusion. You opened your mouth to answer, but only a mumbled string of “um”s fell out while you stared blankly ahead. There was a sound like a record scratching, and then the music started again.

It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you.

There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do.

I bless the rains down in Africa.

Gonna take some time to do the things we never had.

"I don't know. It's like we're in a soap opera or something." You said, putting your weight on one hip and crossing your arms.

“A…a soap opera?” He raised his eyebrows.

"I know it sounds insane, but think about it for a second. The outfits, the crazy woman slapping us, the ridiculous plotline, the music, and the mood lighting. I'm not sure how or why, but it all fits." You spoke with your hands as you put the pieces together.

“Wait! Y/N, that’s it! We are in a soap opera!” He grabbed your biceps and looked deeply into your eyes with a new sense of understanding. “When Dean and I were trying to stop the apocalypse from happening two years ago, Gabriel put us in this endless loop of T.V shows.” He explained. You placed your hands on his forearms and furrowed your brow.

“Okay, so how do we get out?” You asked.

"Well, Dean and I had to find him; the only way we could move on was to 'play our roles.'" Sam said, taking his hands off your arms so he could use finger quotes.

"What does that mean? Play your roles?" You asked him using air quotes as he had. The record scratched. The song started playing annoyingly all over again, its tune filling the otherwise quiet room with the familiar beat. Sam looked nervous suddenly, his left hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

"Well, we uh…we would do what the role required. Like we were in a hospital in one show, so we played doctors, and that's how we moved on." Sam explained.

“Okay…” You started as you began to pace back and forth, helping yourself think. “So, this is a soap opera where we just found out you chose me over my pregnant, with your baby, sister.” You paused and looked over at him. “I can’t believe I just said that.” You shook your head, feeling the large earrings swinging against your neck before resuming your pacing. “It sounds to me like this is…oh I see.” You connected the dots and stopped dead in your tracks, looking up at Sam like a deer in headlights.

"The part when we get together," Sam said with a nervous chuckle.

“Fucking angels.” You muttered again, closing your eyes and taking in a big breath. You were stuck in place as if someone had poured concrete around your feet. You wanted this, wanted him so badly. You felt a heat run over your skin as he took one step towards you, his face one of determination. Swallowing down your nerves, you reached out one hand and felt him take it between his fingers.

"May I?" He asked, his voice sounded rough. You didn't trust your voice, so you just nodded your head slowly, not breaking eye contact. He touched your shoulder and leaned forward. You tilted your head up and closed your eyes, rising onto your tippy toes. The song started again, the drums beating as his lips touched yours ever so softly. You kissed him back gently, not allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling of him like you so desperately wanted to. He pulled back and smiled down at you, his dimples on full display. You let out a shaky breath and smiled back at him, holding yourself back from throwing your arms around his neck and finally letting yourself show him how you feel.

"Let's try the door." He said. You realized that his hand was still holding yours as you made your way over to the door, and you couldn't stop the small smirk that made its way across your lips at the feeling. You pushed the door open, and suddenly you were on a street. The cobblestone street clicked underneath your heels, your long skirt dragging on the ground behind you soundlessly. Sam was wearing a suit and top hat. His jacket was cut at his waist in the front but falling longer in the back, a pocket watch chain hanging from the front. His bowtie was a solid black, making his green eyes stand out. He turned to look at you, and you didn't miss the way his eyes raked over your body. Making you look down in self-consciousness. You had on a corset that made you stand tall and straight. Its laces were pulling your body into a tight hourglass shape, perking up your breasts and flowing at the sinch of your waist. A frilly and tight maroon dress adorned your body. You swallowed and looked up at Sam, who licked his lips, causing your heart to skip a beat. Suddenly there were people everywhere as if they all appeared at once. The street was busy with the noise of voices and horse-drawn carriages.

“What do you think is going to be our moment in this one?” You asked, looking around at the street.

"I don't know; I think we should move, though," Sam said, walking along the street. He held out his elbow, and you placed your gloved hand into the crook as you strolled across the road. His body was so close to yours, and the feeling of warmth it was giving made you feel calmer in this unfamiliar and uncertain land. A market with tents and booths appeared, you and Sam walking under its shade together.

“A flower for the lady!” A man with a huge mustache and glasses called out to you loudly. His outstretched hand held a rose. You took it between your fingers and smiled at him.

“Thank you.” You said, bringing the flower up to your nose to inhale its scent.

"Doctor!" A voice called from afar. You and Sam both looked to see a man running towards you with papers in his hands. He stopped in front of you, his breath coming in fast and ragged.

"I am sorry to interrupt, I did not see you there, madam. I will leave you while you are courting your betrothed." He said quickly, bowing his head in respect.

“Betrothed?” You and Sam asked in unison.

"I mean, yes, of course." Sam corrected himself and stood a little taller.

“If I may suggest, the park is rather splendid this day. Maybe a spot of lunch.” He placed his hands behind his back and smiled warmly at you.

“A wise suggestion indeed. Thank you.” Sam said, clearly fumbling over his words. You walked away, still arm and arm, and made your way to the park.

“Okay, how do we move on?” You asked quietly, keeping your head low.

"I don't know. We need a door." He said, looking around. "There!" He said, pointing to a building on the corner.

"Let's go." You said. The two of you pushed the door open and were greeted by a sight you could only dream of—towers of books surrounded you on all sides. Shelves of literature were all around you, and you couldn't help but feel the amazement. Emerald, red, navy, and black book spines pointed towards you as you walked through the aisles. You found a door in the back of the library and faced Sam, nervously rubbing your hands together and waiting for the kiss. He took you by the arms and pulled you to him while the orchestra swelled in the background. There were no words this time, but it was the instrumental version of the song playing earlier. His lips touched yours with more authority this time; he left his lips on yours for a beat longer than you expected. Your body melted against him, and you could feel the restraint in his kiss. Did he want more? Did he like what you wanted? He released you, and you instinctively licked your lips, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. He cleared his throat, and you found the closest door, pushing it open.

Your eyes took a second to adjust to the bright light suddenly surrounding you in an overstimulating bedroom. There was color everywhere. The blue curtains clashed with the red and white rug. Green walls were lined with obscure and abstract paintings. Fabric hung from the ceiling fan, curtain rods, and full-length mirror next to a mannequin. You looked down at yourself and saw that you were pinned into a flowing red dress that was surprisingly tasteful given your surroundings.

“You might be my best work yet!” A voice said from behind you, making you jump slightly. You turned to see a cute girl with a measuring tape hanging around her neck and a pincushion on her wrist. She was examining you as if you were art in a museum.

"Where is Sam?" You asked; you frantically looked around the room for him and began to panic when you couldn't find him anywhere.

“He will be at the party! Waiting for you,” She paused, clasping her hands together and looking up into the distance with a blissful look on her face. “his true love.” She whispered.

"Um…what?" You asked with a furrowed brow. What the hell was going on? Who was this person? If you were here, where was Sam? The sound of a door opening interrupted your thoughts, and you leaned forward to see who it was. A girl practically skipped into the room and let out a high pitch squeal. Her curls bounced with her as she and the other girl did an in sync hip movement. You watched on with wide eyes and a confused expression.

“Oh my god! Y/N! You look ravishing!” The second girl shouted excitedly…too excitedly.

“Tha-tha-thank you.” You stuttered through your confusion. She reached up and made a claw with her fingers, roaring in your direction.

"What the fuck?" You mumbled under your breath. You looked around the room and at these women. The realization started to slowly sink in all at once—the over the top dialog, the one-dimensional friends, the bright colors. You were in a romantic comedy. The sound of a bottle of champagne popping confirmed it to you.

"Alright now. Let's get you ready for that party.” The girl who was clearly playing your “artsy” friend moved towards you with an awkward shoulder roll. She took the pins out and pushed you into a chair where your "bubbly" friend played with your hair and placed jewelry across your skin. A happy song played in the background as you all drank champagne and played with makeup. You sat awkwardly silent as they fell into hysterics about…nothing. Not a single thing was even remotely funny. Holy crap. You were in a montage. You placed your glass of champagne down and picked up the bottle, chugging the bubbly liquid down as fast as you could.

As if time didn't matter at all, you were suddenly standing at the top of a descending staircase. Sam stood at the bottom, looking as handsome as ever. His tux was fitted to him perfectly, highlighting his broad shoulders and slim waist. You swallowed and made your way down the staircase, eager to get to him as an orchestra started playing on cue. You felt eyes on you from every angle, as if everyone in the building was waiting for you to arrive. Finally making it to Sam, you breathed a sigh of relief when you felt the party resume behind you.

"You look beautiful," Sam said, almost as if he couldn't help himself. You let a shy smile cross your face before playfully nudging him in the chest with your shoulder.

“A romantic comedy. Can you believe it? Dean is going to be pissed he missed out.” You asked him, laughing and looking at all the doors for the best way out.

"I know where were you? I have been waiting here looking for you for like a half-hour." Sam asked.

“Ugh. Sorry. I had to get ready with tweedled dee and tweedled dumb over there.” You flicked your head in their direction. “They laughed about nothing. Absolutely nothing for like ten minutes.” You muttered, shaking your head of the memory. There was a squeak next to you, and your eyes closed in premature annoyance. You knew what was about to happen.

"Hey, guys!" Your bubbly friend said. You both turned and gave her a tight-lipped smile.

“The dance floor looks really nice.” Your artsy friend chimed in, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

“Yeah, you guys should go try it out.” Bubbles said, once again bouncing in place.

“What? Oh no, we are fine here.” You said, shaking your head and waving your hand in their faces.

"No! You have to!" Artsy said, shoving the two of you out onto the dance floor. You and Sam both stumbled onto the wooden floor, holding onto each other for support. A familiar tune started, and you both straightened at the song.

I hear the drums echoing tonight.

But she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation.

She's coming in, 12:30 flight.

The moonlit wings reflect the stars that guide me towards salvation.

I stopped an old man along the way.

Hoping to find some old forgotten words or ancient melodies

He turned to me as if to say, "Hurry boy, it's waiting there for you."

Suddenly everyone on the dance floor started moving along to the song in a choreographed routine. Swaying bodies and smiling faces were prancing around you in a blur of color and fake smiles.

"Oh, sweet Jesus. It's a dance scene." You said, watching as everyone got more involved with the approaching chorus.

“No, no, no. I am not doing a dance number.” Sam said, stiffening under his jacket.

“Okay, then kiss me.” You replied quickly, turning your face towards his.

“Y/N, are you sure?” He asked, ever the gentlemen.

“Sam.” You rolled your eyes and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him towards you and kissing him fully on the mouth as the chorus broke out behind you.

It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you.

There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do.

I bless the rains down in Africa.

Gonna take some time to do the things we never had

This kiss felt more emotional than the others had. It felt more passionate, real, and raw. His hand came up to cup your cheek. You wanted to let yourself have the moment. To fall into him and drink him in like water, but you had to get out of here, and you had to do it now. You broke away, letting him still hold you close to him as you took in a heavy breath. You released each other and ran away from the dance floor before your “friends” could find you to have another montage.

Charging through the double doors at the same time, you and Sam found yourselves suddenly in a black and white world. Your body was draped over a couch, a silk robe cloaking your skin. Pearls and jewels hung on your neck, leading to a nightdress that hung to your mid-calf. A glass with a dark liquid was perched in your right hand, balancing on your hip. A knock on the door made you get up and walk across the lavish room, opening the door to a maid. She bowed her head slightly and spoke in a soft voice.

"Excuse me, miss, but he wants to see you now."  She said, lifting her head to look into your eyes.

“Very well.” You played along, turning back into your bedroom to find clothing.

“Would you like my help, miss?” The maid asked, already taking a step into the room.

"What shall I wear?" You asked her, sitting back down onto the couch and crossing your legs. She made her way to a closet and began looking through hangers. You followed behind her and let yourself openly gawk at the number of dresses in front of you.

"If I were you, I would wear this, miss." She said, holding up a floor-length beaded gown. You nodded and took it from her hands, smiling at the opportunity to get so dressed up for once.

"I agree." You smiled at her, and she let out a breath, as if she had been holding it for quite some time, and smiled back at you happily. She helped you take off your jewelry and hung up your robe and nightgown for you as you changed into the dress. Her thin fingers zipped up the dress in the back, and she lightly ran her hands over the fabric to make sure it laid flat over your body. Then, as if time wasn't a thing, you were stepping out of a car—a hand coming to help you keep steady on your feet. Your face turned up towards the lively building in front of you, music and lights seeming to flow from it and into your soul. You walked through the doors and found Sam immediately, his tall frame towering over everyone else. He raised a hand and fixed his cufflink, sending a wink in your direction. Your blood ran hotter in your veins as you stepped towards him until you were face to face.

"Champagne, madam?" A waiter asked, holding out a tray with two flutes of the bubbly liquid balancing perfectly on it for the taking. You and Sam each took one, clinking your glasses together in cheers before taking a sip. You couldn't help but notice how his eyes didn't deviate from yours or how he seemed to have a new confidence. You smiled and looked around at the night club. Dim lighting and white table cloths filled your vision. The air was smokey and warm on a summer night. People bustled about, drinks in gloved hands—dresses and suits a blur in the festive atmosphere. The band played on in the back, filling the crowded space with a slow beat.

“This song is for the owner and his lovely date.” The singer spoke into the microphone, pointing directly at you and Sam.

"That's our cue," Sam said, taking the glass from his hand and placing it on a table with his own. He stretched his hand out to you and wrapped his fingers around your hand gently. You made your way onto the dance floor, and a slow rendition of what was quickly becoming a song you shared with Sam started.

I hear the drums echoing tonight.

But she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation.

She’s coming in, 12:30 flight

The moonlit wings reflect the stars that guide me towards salvation.

I stopped an old man along the way.

Hoping to find some old forgotten words or ancient melodies

He turned to me as if to say, “Hurry boy, it’s waiting there for you."

Sam wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you tightly against him, moving to the beat of the song. His large hand splayed over your back, the pads of his fingers pushing lightly against your ribcage. You tried to calm your heart, swallowing hard and telling yourself it was all for show.

“You seem different.” You said, looking up at him.

“I know. I just figured that maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we played along a little bit.” He said, taking you completely by surprise. You cleared your throat and smiled. You could live with this, with the feeling of him against you tightly. With the way, he was looking at you right now. It was as if time stood still. As if nothing else mattered except you and Sam being together forever. Between the way, his body felt on yours, the champagne, and his hot breath on your face, you decided to be brave.

“Ya know, to get out of here, you have to kiss me.” You said, your voice breathy. He looked down at your lips and bent his neck to capture his lips in yours.

It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you.

There’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do

I bless the rains down in Africa.

Gonna take some time to do the things we never had

This kiss was what you would consider the first kiss. His lips moved lightly against yours, opening ever so slightly. You kissed back, letting yourself explore the feeling of him no matter how fleeting the moment. He broke the kiss first, placing his forehead against yours gently. You glanced up at him again to smile, and the two of you took off to the nearest door.

The smell of beer was the first thing you noticed.

“Y/N! Sam!” A voice called out over the noisy crowd in the bar. You felt Sam's hand take yours, and you moved through the tables together.

“Took you guys long enough, finally expressing your undying love?” The man who had called your name asked, taking a sip of his beer. A laugh track sounded around you at the stupid joke. Awesome. A sitcom.

“What?” Sam asked him, leaning forward slightly.

"Come on, dude! Lighten up. I just want you to be together so I know I don't have a chance with Y/N, and I can move on." He said, and your face scrunched in confusion and disgust. Who talks like that? You wondered as the laugh track went off again.

"Um. Whatever." Sam said, taking your hand and moving through the bar. A girl ran up to you, squealing in excitement. Her hands were clapping together in front of her.

"Oh my, god! You guys are holding hands. Did it happen? Did it finally happen?! Tell me everything, and don't leave out a single detail!" She said, her voice high pitched and whiney. "Oh! Amber! Y/N and Sam are holding hands!" She yelled to another girl loudly. You opened your mouth to say something, but the other girl appeared out of nowhere.

“Cool.” She said with an emotionless face, cueing the laugh track once again.

“Sam.” You said out of the side of your mouth, leaning into him and making the laugh track go off once again.

"On it." He said, retaking your hand and moving until you found a back room for you to hide.

“We need to get out of here.” You said as soon as the door closed.

"Agreed," Sam said, the audience roaring with laughter.

"Hey, Sam." You said softly.

“Yeah?” He turned to face you.

“I..uh…well, I just can't stop thinking about how all these people want us to get together, it's like I don't know what to think anymore." You said, exposing your true feelings to him.

“I feel the same way.” He agreed, leaning against the wall and hunching his shoulders slightly. “I have been feeling different since we got here, T.V. land, I mean, like somehow this was the right thing. I don’t know what to think anymore.” He said, his fingers twisting together as he spoke. You felt your heart rate quicken in your chest at his words. Could he really want you as you wanted him? You had to know. Had to quiet the racing thoughts in your mind. You licked your lips and let out a puff of air.

"Can I try something?" You asked him, taking a step towards him, making the crowd make one long "ohhh." He nodded and swallowed. You stepped up to him, placing your hands on his chest and looking deeply into his eyes before leaning forward. His hands took your face within them, and he bent down to you, his thumbs moving along your cheeks. Your lips connected, and the crowd went wild, cheering, and hollering. The song started playing, but neither one of you pulled away. This time you opened your mouth to him, letting your tongue run over his lower lip. His fingers twisted into your hair, his tongue caught yours, moving into your mouth and pulling a small moan from you at the feeling. He wrapped his arms around you, arched your back into his chest, pressing yourself even harder against his body. He pulled away and looked at you, running his thumb over your bottom lip. You could see the change in his eyes, could feel it within your own heart. This was right. He was right. You were meant to be. Together, forever.

The rain was warm and hard against your skin. Your eyes took in your surroundings—grass and trees with a heavy moon perched high in a black sky. You were drenched, your hair and clothes sticking to your body. You looked for Sam, finding him walking towards you in the milky light of the moon. His white t-shirt was clinging onto his muscular torso, showing off his abs and biceps. You walked towards him across the field until you were face to face under the night sky. This time there were no words spoken. This time, his large hands wrapped around your thighs, and he lifted you against him, your legs wrapping around his waist. It was your turn to lean down and connect your lips to his without holding anything back, to let your feelings show through the kiss. His hands held you against him as you ran your fingers through his wet hair, feeling the strands slip between your fingers. His teeth took your bottom lip between them, and he bit ever so gently. Your tongue slid against his, tasting him, and the rain at once. He was perfect. This was perfect, everything you ever wanted and more. Your love-drenched brain finally put the dots together, and you broke away, holding his face between your hands.

“We never opened a door.” You said. He looked away for a moment before placing you down on the ground to reach into his back pocket. He pulled out his phone and gun from his waistband. You were back, back to reality.

“We’re back.” He said, echoing your own thoughts.

“We’re back!” You cheered, jumping into his arms once more and latching your lips to his, kissing him through smiles and laughter. The song started playing in the background, and your stomach dropped. Were you wrong? You pulled apart to see Gabe standing there with a boom box above his head. Africa was playing loudly from it.

“Gabriel?” You asked, squinting at him in the rain.

“Glad you guys finally did it! I was going to put you in a musical next.” He said with a sarcastic grin.

"Next time, can you just like talk to us? Or just let us do it on our own?" Sam said, his arms crossing over his chest in annoyance.

"On your own? I wanted you to get there before old age took me." He joked, placing the boom box on the ground. "Alright, alright, I'll take you back to the motel now. Dean has been going crazy for days now." 

“Gabe. Why Y/N and I?” Sam asked.

“Oh, right. Some things are just written in the stars. You were each other’s destiny and heaven was tired of waiting.” He reasoned, as if he was talking about the weather. He said, lifting his fingers.

“Wait!” You said quickly. “Why Africa?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

“It’s a catchy song, had it stuck in my head for days.” He shrugged and didn’t wait for a reply before he snapped his fingers.

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