#i’m more irritated that it’s gonna take a while to heal (steroids)

[mars-ipan]

man. apologies to anyone who tried to talk to me yesterday and was met only by someone out of their gourd. i got VERY high yesterday i’m almost surprised i’m not still feeling it

[keelywolfe]

Drabble: No Hard Felines (baon)

Summary:  Sans knew living with Red wasn't going to be all shits and giggles, but he wasn't expecting this flavor of bullshit on the menu.

Tags: Kustard, Fluff (as fluffy as these two get), Some Sexy Teasing

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~~*~~

Despite his bro’s reassurances that Sans was making the right move, (and he still wasn’t convinced, leaving Paps while he was still wobbly on wheels after that attack was sticking in his craw like a fishbone on steroids) Sans still knew there were gonna be, eh, challenges was a good a word as any and sounded better than bitchfest.

What he hadn’t figured on was an ongoing war with a fucking cat over a sofa.

Sans didn’t know a whole lot about cats. His experience was limited to Cat Monsters and Temmies, all of whom could be expected to act reasonably decent and not shred a t-shirt just as it was getting into the comfortably overworn stage where even washing with Tide didn’t get out all the stink.

Damn cat, Sans really liked that shirt and if he wore in now, all he’d need was leather pants and some glitter eyeshadow and he could join a punk band.

Socks vanished wholesale before anyone even had a chance to put down a sticky note. Someday, somewhere, a sock graveyard would be found, and the haunting stench would follow whoeverso discovered it to the end of their days.

Anyway.

Sans didn’t know shit about cats, but what he did know was that he was already sick of living with the cat and hadn’t even properly moved in yet.

Dogs at least could be put on a chain and sent outside to sleep for a while. Red didn’t let Ozzy out, said he was all indoor cat, all the time, which was probably for the best because the little shit would probably decimate the local bird population overnight. Red said he was probably a mixed breed and Sans agreed with that assessment; half cougar, half pain in his tailbone. That little kitten grew to the size of a small Saint Bernard and didn’t even have the grace to wear that little collar with booze barrel on it. Being able to take a slug or two anytime he was around the little shit would be about the only thing to endear Sans to it.

What did not endear him was the fucking brat stalking him every time he walked around the house. It would wait, staring out from the shadows until Sans let his guard down by some minuscule fraction and then it would lunge out and try to take a chunk out of his ankle before scrambling off to the next stalking checkpoint. It was a good thing his HP took an upward hike when they came to the surface because dusting by ankle attack was exactly the kind of humiliating death Sans would expect the universe to have out for him.

If it wasn’t hiding, it was on the sofa, busy taking up as much sitting room as possible and that left them here, the two of them staring at each other like gunslingers in the old west, waiting to see who drew first and all Sans was armed with was a pillow.

Sure, Sans could go sleep upstairs in the bed. Hell, he could sleep on the floor if he wasn’t worried about not being able to peel himself off of the carpet later. But it was the principle of the thing. He was moving in, you gotta start as you intend to go on, and Sans intended to go on sleeping on the sofa whenever it took his fancy. Starting now.

“okay, look, cat,” Sans said. He held up his pillow, his only line of defense. “i’m gonna lay down on this side of the sofa. you stay on that side and things’ll go fine, you get me?”

The cat didn’t say anything, which was fine because if he’d started singing ‘hello my baby’, Sans was moving back in with Paps. Instead, it stared at him with those all-seeing eyes, ugh, no wonder Stretch hated cats. Sans was more used to being on the other side of that look and that’s where he preferred to stay, thanks.

If Ozzy was waiting for him to blink first, he was going to be sitting there until reveille because if there was one thing that skeletons didn’t technically have to do, it was blink. Sans moved slowly, first setting his pillow against the sofa arm and then easing onto the seat cushion. He lay back, still meeting that unblinking stare, waiting to see if his socks were gonna take the punishment for his hubris.

Ozzy yawned, showing a row of teeth that were remarkably similar to their owner. He blinked slowly, once, twice, and didn’t move an inch.

Sans relaxed, leaning back into the pillow and muttered, “just don’t murder me in my sleep.”

He was about halfway down the path into the land of nod when an unexpected weight in his lap jostled him back awake. Sans opened his sockets and looked down in disbelief at the cat loaf settled right on top of his femurs. Loaf, hell, the damn thing was the size of a furry watermelon, eyes closed and rustling up what Sans guessed might qualify as a rusty purr. Or an electronic can opener freshly liberated from the dump, either worked.

“okay, i know it looks like i’m melding into the sofa, but i’m not actually part of it. get off.” Ozzy didn’t move, still purring along. “c’mon, move, you furry brick!”

That purr rose threateningly in volume to something right below a chainsaw and Sans was trying to decide what finger he was willing to lose to push the damn thing off of him when from behind came. “see, you two are getting along just swell.”

He craned his neck enough to see Red leaning against the doorjamb leading to the would-be kitchen, if it ever got anything resembling appliances. Coulda, shoulda, woulda, whatever, Paps and Edge always had plenty of goods in the fridge and it tasted a lot better than whatever concoction either of them tried to rustle up.

“oh, yeah, we’re old pals,” Sans drawled irritably, “don’t worry, pretty sure all the scratches’ll heal over eventually and probably won’t leave too many scars.”

“good, i hate to mess up that pretty face. g’wan, oz, you’re in my seat.” Red wandered over to shove the cat off and instead of taking off a limb, it only let out an offended meow and went to loom like a resentful gargoyle on the recliner. Red took his spot and he was only a little lighter but a helluva lot more welcome to be straddling Sans’s femurs. Red squirmed, grinding their pelvises together until Sans grabbed his hips and stilled him, clenching his teeth together around a groan.

“wellie well well,” Red murmured. His crimson eye lights gleamed mellowly, his grin wide, and the way he ran his thumb lightly along the line of Sans's collar dragged a shiver up from the depths of his soul. Somebody was in a good mood. How kind of him to share it. “feels like you might be a lil’ happy ta see me.”

“it’s a pencil in my pocket.”

“yeah, feels about the right size for it.”

Whatever retort Sans might’ve come up for that was muffled under Red’s mouth against his own and those razor teeth of Red’s never left behind too many scars, either.

Welp, so much for the nap. Sans did crack open one socket to look around even as Red’s hands were starting to test the theory of just what kind of pencil Sans was smuggling. The cat was pointedly not looking at them and Sans smirked against Red’s mouth.

Take that, you furry little interloper, put a point on Sans’s side of the scoreboard.

Then he bit off a yelp as a clawed finger ran deliberately down his femur, hard enough to draw a beaded line of marrow. He shifted his glare to Red, who cooed out, “aw, do i have your attention now?”

“undivided and multiplied, if you wanna do the math.”

“i leave the math to stretch, now are you gonna get in the game?”

“yeah, let me get the ball.” It was Red’s turn to yelp as Sans cupped a hand firmly between his legs. Pretty soon Sans was forgetting all about the cat, because this, yeah, hell yeah, this was why moving in was the right idea.

Besides, the battle for the sofa always worked better when it was two against one, and Sans wanted Red against him for a long damn time.

-finis-

[dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocs]

Arms

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Based off Christina Perri’s “Arms”

Words: 2886

Summary: The Reader gets injured on a hunt. After getting healed by Cas, she and the boys go to a karaoke bar. 

I suck at summaries. I also started this 2 years ago and just managed to finish it today. It’s the first fic I’ve ever completed, so try to not be too harsh, but feel free to tell me what I can do better!

Run. That's all your mind could process. Run as far as you can. Run as fast as you can.

"Y/N!" Aw crap. While you were trying to get away, Dean managed to get caught. You quickly turned around and cocked your gun, preparing to shoot a silver bullet straight through the heart of the werewolf you were hunting.

"Where ya at, Dean?" You yell into the dark. Why do we always end up hunting this shit at night? You thought to yourself as you kept an eye out for the eldest Winchester or the lycanthrope. "Come out, come out, wherever you are, you ugly son of a bitch!"

Growling is all you hear before a pain shoots through your right side and the world falls black.

"Mornin' Apple-Pie!" Dean's cheery voice echoes through the small motel room, magnified by the side-splitting headache you have.

"Ugh. How long was I out?" You ask, sitting up while rubbing your head, willing the pain to go away. Dean pushes you back on the bed before you manage to make it into a sitting position, though.

"No no no, you gotta stay down. That bitch got you real good. Sliced your side right open. And don't worry, you've only been out since last night. I do gotta say, you were a real pain-in-the-ass to get in the car."

"Sorry," you mumble.

"Why'd you head back? You should've kept running." Dean looks at you curiously.

You can feel the blood rising in your cheeks. "I thought I heard you and Sam in trouble. Figured if I didn't come back you'd kill me." You try joking your way out of it.

"Yeah, well you're just lucky the chihuahua on steroids didn't kill you first. Cas should be here soon to heal you. If we can talk him into it, we're gonna head down to that karaoke bar you wanted to check out a couple of towns over."

You mumble an "okay" as you lay back down and start to drift off.

You wake up to a warm heat coursing through your body. You open your eyes as you see Castiel withdraw his hand from your side.

"Thanks, Cas." You say, standing up. "We going to that bar?" You question them. When you see Dean nod, you race to grab your duffle bag and hop in the shower.

Once finished, you push the sleeves of your AC/DC shirt up to your elbows. You quickly straighten your hair and apply your makeup before walking out to grab your combat boots.

Looking around, you notice all the boys have left, you assume they went back to the Winchesters' room.

You slip your shoes on with ease and grab your wallet, then you're out.

You arrive outside Sam and Dean's door, only to be met with arguing in hushed whispers.

"No, Sam! It's not happening. You know the closer we are to someone, the more danger they're in. Why would you want to do that?"

Confused, you knock on the door. "Hey guys, you ready to go?"

You hear one of them shushing the other and rushing to get the door.

Dean greets you with his warm smile. "Yeah, Apple-pie. We're ready." He hurries past you and hops in Baby, leaving you to shoot a questioning glance towards Sam, who just brushes it off.

The drive to the bar was filled with classic rock and you and Dean having a "who's singing can irritate Sam more?" contest. You ended up winning, much to Dean's dismay.

When you finally got to the bar Bertha's, you ran inside as fast as you could, grabbing a table in the back. The boys soon followed, Cas having met them outside.

"Heya, Cassy-boy." You smiled.

"Hello, Y/N. How is your side feeling?"

"I'm great. Takes a little more than some mutt to keep me down." You chuckled.

"Well, Imma go get us some beers," Dean said, walking up to the bar.

"So," Sam turned to you. "You gonna sing tonight? Or did you just drag us here to listen to the other drunks?"

"I want to sing..." You said, turning away.

"But...?"

"But I'm kinda scared." You mumbled towards the floor. You heard Sam laughing when you said this. You whipped your head around to face him. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just a little surprised that Y/N, one of the most badass hunters I know, the girl who's afraid of nothing, is scared to sing in public."

"Who's scared of what?" Dean asked, walking back to the table, setting the beers down.

"Y/N's scared to sing on stage." Cas piped up, joining the conversation, flinching when you slapped his arm.

"You're scared? Of what? They're just a bunch of drunk morons." Dean said.

"It's nothing. Don't worry. I'm sorry I made you guys come here. We should have just gone back to the bunker. "

"Come on, Y/N." Dean placed his hand on your shoulder, causing you to look at him. "What if I sing something too? Will you get up there then?"

Thinking it over, you decided that if Dean got up there and embarrassed himself, you could too. "Yeah. I guess."

"Great. Let's go sign up." Dean grabbed your arm and led you to where you signed up to sing. Once he was registered, you had him go back to the table, telling him you had to take a minute to pick out a song.

You knew what song you wanted to sing. It had been stuck in your head for weeks after a late night watching random youtube videos. The only problem, besides stage fright, was that the song was everything you wanted to say but were too afraid to. You headed back to the table after a few minutes, taking a long drink of your beer.

"So, you decide on a song?" Sam asked. You just nodded yes, feeling your face flush at the thought of actually getting on stage. "What'd you choose?"

Setting your beer down, you smirked at him in hopes to play it off. "You'll just have to wait and see Sammy-boy."

They seem to accept that and you guys spend the next half hour listening to the people on stage before Dean's name gets called. He shoots a wink at you before heading up there and it takes all you have to fight the blush. This is Dean we're talking about. He does that all the time. It means nothing.

For someone who says he hates to sing, he owns the stage like he was made for it. If you didn't live the life you did, you definitely would've pushed him to be on one of the singing competition shows. That's stupid Y/N, if you didn't live this life you wouldn't have ever met him.  

Tennessee Whiskey by Chris Stapleton starts playing over the speakers. Huh, why would he choose this? Dean always acts like he hates country. He starts singing and it feels like your insides turned to soup. You'd never let anyone else know it, but Dean's singing is always something that calms you. When you have a nightmare or after a hunt gone wrong, Dean would come to your room and just sing to help you feel better. If you guys were in a motel with Sam, he's just hum and try to take your mind off of whatever's bothering you. It usually ended with you drifting off during it, and afterward, you two would have an unspoken agreement to not talk about it.

The song finishes way too soon for your liking. Dean joins you guys back at the table and you just smile and listen to Sam tease him about his choice in music. Then comes what you've been dreading all night. Your name gets called to come on stage. You look between the boys with wide eyes as they all but push you out of your seat and towards the stage.

You take the microphone and close your eyes as the music starts.

I never thought that you would be the one to hold my heart But you came around And you knocked me off the ground from the start

You put your arms around me And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go You put your arms around me and I'm home

You opened your eyes and looked over at your best friends, seeing Sam and Cas with huge smiles watching you. Dean, however, had a much smaller smile on his face. He looked almost wistful. He nodded at you to continue, giving you the encouragement you needed. Little did he know you were singing to him.

How many times will let you me change my mind and turn around I can't decide if I'll let you save my life or if I'll drown

I hope that you see right through my walls I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling I'll never let a love get so close You put your arms around me and I'm home

You thought back as you sang, to all the times Dean's been there for you. All the late night whispered conversations in motel rooms as Sam slept. All the trips to bars together after successful hunts where you two would celebrate. All the nights where he found you crying after losing someone.

I hope that you see right through my walls I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling I'll never let a love get so close You put your arms around me and I'm home

The world is coming down on me And I can't find a reason to be loved I never wanna leave you But I can't make you bleed if I'm alone

You think about how you aren't good enough for him. He deserves someone who could give him the perfect life. A life with no monsters and no worries about if today's gonna be his last day. Someone who can give him kids and a house to come home to every day, not some secret underground lair for monster hunters.

You put your arms around me And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go

I hope that you see right through my walls I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling I'll never let a love get so close You put your arms around me and I'm home

You know Dean though. Even if he found someone to get out of the life for, he would never do it. He'd never even consider being with someone. He's so convinced that it'd only end bloody. Guess that's another thing you have in common. You would never tell him how you felt. There's no chance he'd feel the same, and even if he did, you couldn't handle being the reason he gets hurt.

I tried my best to never let you in to see the truth And I've never opened up I've never truly loved 'till you put your arms around me And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go

I hope that you see right through my walls I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling I'll never let a love get so close You put your arms around me and I'm home

You put your arms around me and I'm home

The song ended and you brought your hand up to your face. You didn't realize a tear had fallen down. Well shit, that's not gonna seem suspicious. You make your way back over to the table and immediately the boys have you wrapped in a hug, telling you how good you sounded up there. You brush them off and pick up your beer.

You guys leave pretty soon after that and start heading back to the bunker.

You all got back to the bunker around 1 am. You decided to just head straight to your room with claims of being tired. You weren't, but they didn't need to know you just didn't feel like being out there with them right now. You managed to avoid questions about your song choice on the way home, but you didn't want to risk anything else tonight. Surely they'd forget about it by tomorrow morning.

In your room, you throw on a tank top and some shorts that are way too short for your liking, but they're the only thing you can find right now and you don't have the energy to keep looking. You get out your laptop and look up Tennessee Whiskey on youtube. You didn't bother with headphones, instead just setting the computer down on your nightstand and lay back.

You have your eyes closed, just listening to the music. You didn't hear the soft knock at your door, or it cracking open when you didn't answer. Dean walks in, a small smile tugging at his lips as he looks at you.

"Hey Y/N" he softly says. You shoot up from your bed, instinctually looking for the threat. When all you can find is Dean, you smile. "I, uh, wasn't quite as good as the original, huh?" He laughs dryly.

"I was actually thinking the opposite. Little upset I had to settle for this." I motion to my laptop and pause the video. "Would you maybe sing for me?" I ask quietly, avoiding looking at him.

Without saying anything he comes over to the other side of the bed and climbs in. You join him and lift the covers over you like you've done so many nights before. He pulls you to his chest as he leans against the headboard and starts singing like he does whenever you're scared. You start drifting off to the vibrations of his chest as he finishes Tennessee Whiskey (which you've now decided is definitely your favorite song.) You're just about asleep when a tiny voice catches your attention.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Well, that has you awake.

"You are the smartest person I know Dean. Why are you asking that?" You don't move your head from his chest, instead, you subconsciously rub small patterns with your fingers.

"I know why you chose that song Y/N/N." You still, not sure you can say anything. Does he really know?  "Aren't you gonna ask why I chose the one I did?" When it becomes apparent you aren't going to say anything, he continues. "I've spent years trying to drown myself in alcohol to forget all of the bad we face every day. If I wasn't hunting, I was drinking. I knew it wouldn't make me forget completely, but I could at least drink until a new hunt came along. But then you joined us. I always had to protect Sammy. My whole life I've known nothing else. He always came number one. But when you came along and joined our little crappy makeshift family? Well, things didn't seem so crappy anymore.

"Ever since my mom died, it was like my family wasn't complete. It always felt like we were searching for something. But meeting you was like the search was over. Like all this shit me and Sammy have been through was just leading up to meeting you. And damn sweetheart, if you weren't the best reward anyone could ever ask for. After that, it's like I didn't feel the need to drink my nights away. I'd rather be sober and stay up all night talking with you. You are the best damn alcohol I've ever had."

You stayed silent for a while, fearing that your voice would give way. Although the tears soaking through his shirt probably did a good enough job on their own.

"Please Apple-Pie, say something." He sounded almost scared. Like saying all of that was gonna push you away.

"I'm scared, Dean." You admitted. "What if something happens to you because of me? We don't exactly live the safest lives? And what about if something happens between the two of us? I wouldn't just lose you, I'd lose Sam and Cas. And not to mention I can't give you the apple pie life with two kids and a picket fence?" He cut off your rambling by grabbing your face and pulling you towards him in a slow kiss.

"Y/N. You think I haven't thought of all of that? First of all, nothing will happen between us. And even if it did, Sam and Cas would definitely choose you." He laughed. "I don't want that apple pie life, I just want my Apple-Pie with me every night. And the risk of putting you in danger is the only thing that's kept me from saying all of this the day I met you. I love you, Y/N. And I want to spend however long we have in this screwed up life with you by my side."

You looked up at him for a long time, your face still in his hands. Maybe things can work out in your favor. You love Dean. If you have the chance to be happy, however fleeting, maybe it's worth the risk to take it.

"I love you too Dean." You say as your lips meet his. Let's just say that was the last night you spent in your own room.