#meanwhile sammy is just confused

[swan2swan]

If you want to see Sad Sapphics breaking up in the darkness and rain before they've even started dating, you can watch Camp Cretaceous or you can watch Arcane. Same dish, different chefs, both delicious.

[pahtoosh]

baba face

[image ID: photos of sebastian stan, chris evans, and various stuffed animals photoshopped onto a yellow background. sebastian stan is holding a round wolf stuffed animal and looking into the distance. chris evans is hiding a smile with a hand over his mouth. the stuffed animals include four frowning stuffed animals and one smiling one. /.end ID]

masterlist

18+

wc: ~2400 words

warnings: reader takes a little tumble

a/n: this was inspired by @angelbaby-fics ! Chloe, thank you for showing me your turtle and inspiring this whole piece! (side note: if anyone would like to talk about their stuffies, I would LOVE to hear about them!!

pairing: stucky x gn!little!reader

summary: sam gets a stuffed animal for reader that frowns like bucky! things get out of hand when the other avengers join in and buy reader way too many grumpy stuffies

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ

It all started when Sam came back from a mission in late June. The Avengers would sometimes bring back presents when they went overseas. They didn’t always have the time to stop by a gift shop but when they did, the gifts were always cherished and held a little closer when the Avenger eventually had to travel again. 

Two weeks before his mission, you had gotten very close with Sam. Your daddies asked him to watch over you one day and he gave you a whole adventure. He took you to a pottery painting studio, then the park, and ended the day with the best ice cream you’ve ever had. From then on, you were inseparable. 

During group meal times, you’d make jokes with him across the table. If you were allowed in the room for a meeting, you’d pass notes back and forth. Sam would also play with you during Tony’s summer parties; he was going to let you fly with redwing before Bucky marched outside and confined you to his hip for the rest of the night. You didn’t mind too much though, the sky probably wasn’t as comfortable as being held by Baba. 

Your attachment to Sam made this mission all the more difficult for everyone involved. You, because you missed your friend. Sam, because he missed your happy giggles and felt bad for leaving you right when he finally gained your trust. And your daddies because they had to witness you get sad every time something reminded you of Sam. 

Fortunately, the mission was going well and he was expected to return right on time. On his last day, Sam was looking both ways to cross the street when a stuffed animal in a display window caught his eye. He looked at his watch to see if he had enough time to make his flight, then quickly entered the store and bought the plushie because he knew you’d love it. 

On the plane, Sam sat with the plushie in his lap to keep it safe. It was still in the bag from the store, looking like an oddly shaped lump in a now wrinkly paper bag. When Sam returned to the tower, Steve was the first to greet him before you nudged your Dada out of the way to give Sam a bone-crushing hug. 

“I missed you, Sammy!”

“I missed you too, peanut.” He kneeled down and handed you the paper bag. “I gotcha something.”

You beamed at him. “Thank you! I love it!”

Sam laughed. “You haven’t even opened it yet!”

“I already know I’m gonna like it because it’s from you,” you said, matter of factly. “But okay.”

You opened the bag and gasped when you saw the plush. 

It was a soft turtle with a slightly slouched posture, but that wasn’t the part you were focused on. Your favorite part was the plushie’s grumpy expression. It looked just like Bucky. 

“HE HAS BABA FACE! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!” You screamed your gratitude while running circles around the trio of Sam and your daddies. Sam and Steve were barely holding in their laughter, meanwhile Bucky stood confused, but happy that you were happy. Despite his super hearing, he wasn’t sure if he heard you correctly. Did you say baba face? Or maybe you said bubble face?  

Bucky figured that this wasn’t something he needed the answers to immediately, so he didn’t ask any questions and resolved to watching you tire yourself out. 

The grumpy turtle became your new shadow. Everywhere you went, so did the plush. You’d have it tucked under your arm while running through the compound. During mealtimes in your home, the turtle would get his own chair and toy food. Outside, you kept your turtle in a drawstring backpack with the head poking out so he could see the world too. When your daddies carried you around, you’d make a silly game out of making the turtle mess up your Dada’s hair or bite your Baba’s ears. 

Even before giving you the turtle, Sam loved to boast about how he was your favorite Avenger(you didn’t have a favorite, but you didn’t have the heart to correct him on that when he kept giving you all of his attention). When you all played hide and seek, he bragged for three days straight about how you chose him to be your partner. Your attachment to the turtle only heightened his pride. 

He always asked you where the turtle was, knowing it couldn’t be more than three feet away from you. Sam made a big fuss about the turtle having his own seat at the dinner table and fell victim to your strength and contagious giggles when you pushed him out of his seat to make room for your turtle. Sam learned his lesson that day and didn’t fight for the turtle to have his own chair in the debriefing room. However, he did bring in an extra stool for the plush. Sam even bought you the very drawstring backpack that allowed you to take your new friend on your outdoor adventures. In private, he’d ask you about how the turtle was settling into his new home and gave him the gentlest kiss when you said the turtle needed more lovin’. 

The others all thought your friendship with Sam was adorable, but there was one person who saw this as an opportunity for some friendly competition. Natasha knew that there was room in your heart for more than one avenger bestie, so she devised a plan to take her spot. She had two missions in August–the first: survey a crime group that’s suspected to have ties with Zemo. The second: give you a gift worthy of four days of bragging. 

After successful recon, Natasha’s plane landed in the Avenger’s HQ. She turned in her paperwork that she completed on the flight home, then went to freshen up so she could give you your gift. Natasha found you cuddled up with Steve in the movie room watching some old cartoon. She knocked on the door.

“Got any room for a couple more friends on that couch?”

“Natty, you’re back!” You untangled yourself from Steve and ran to give her a hug. You looked behind her expecting to see more of the group. “Where’s the other friends?”

She held up a bag with the arm that wasn’t hugging you. “Your new friend traveled a long way to get here.”

You squealed and hugged Natasha again before accepting the bag from her hand and kneeling on the floor to pull out the tissue paper and free your gift. 

“You guys are spoiling them, you know that?” Steve asked, lightheartedly from the couch.

“Oh hush, how many hours of screen time have you given them today?”

Steve opened and closed his mouth a couple times, not expecting the question.

“Doesn’t count if the movies came from your time, right?” 

Any response from Steve was cut off by your cheering. 

“BABA OCTOPUS!! BABATOPUS!!” you held up the plush proudly like it was Simba. “Dada, look!”

“Oh he’s beautiful, baby.” Steve chuckled at the round, bright red octopus plush with a deep frown on its face. “What do you say to Nat?”

“THANK YOU NAAAT!” you yelled. Excitement flickered across your face once more, then you ran out of the movie room with the octopus securely tucked under your arm.

“Where are you going, baby? And no running indoors!” Steve shouted as he chased after you. 

You slowed for a bit, but kept moving at a swift pace. “I hav’ta show Baba my new friend!”

Natasha watched your little race from the movie room with an amused grin on her face. During dinner that night, she enjoyed the shocked look on Sam’s face when you pulled up with two grumpy plushies and pretended to feed the octopus before the turtle.

Sam turned to Natasha. “You have no idea what you’ve just started.”

She smirked. “And you have no idea what you’re getting into.”

Steve leaned over to whisper to Bucky. “We’re gonna need more space in the playroom.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

The competition expanded beyond Natasha and Sam. All of the Avengers were determined to find the next grumpy plush to win your heart. There was a penguin from Peter, a frog from Thor, a cat from Tony, and a panda from Wanda. Your collection was starting to get out of control. You desperately wanted to carry all of your plushies everywhere with you to keep things fair, but your daddies put an end to that when you tripped on the sidewalk while trying to push a stroller full of scowling stuffed animals. 

Bucky decided to help you create a system so you could fairly pick one plushie from the collection to carry around for the day. He made small slips of paper so you could write down their names and pull one out of a cup each morning. He brought his supplies to you while you were having an afternoon snack at the dining table. His heart broke seeing you with your knees bandaged up and the streaks of dried tears from the fall earlier today still on your face.

“Hi, Baba,” you sniffled.

“Hey, sweetie. What’s going on? You eatin’ your snack?”

“Mhm.”

“Why aren’t you eating at the kitchen island, baby? You always eat your snack there.”

You pouted and gestured to the plushies sitting around you. “I can’t fit all my friends there.”

“Oh I know, bubs. It must be so hard carrying all these guys around, huh?” He mentally scolded himself for leaving you alone during your snack. He should’ve known better than to expect you to stay put when your little friends were trapped inside the stroller. It must’ve taken so long to arrange the plushies around the table with your injury. 

You perked up at his next words. 

“Baba has something for you.” Bucky spread out the slips of paper on the table and placed a cup next to them. “You can write down the names of all your little friends on these papers and pick one name out of the cup to decide which one you’re walking around with for the day. Does that sound fair?”

You shrugged, “I guess I can do that.” You really would’ve liked a solution that allowed you to bring all of the grumpy plushies with you everywhere, but deep down you knew that it just wasn’t practical. You took the pencil that Bucky held out for you and started writing down your plushies’ names.

Your Baba lovingly kissed the top of your head and rubbed your back while you wrote. He loved watching you focus on a task. He almost didn’t notice what you were writing down.

Bucky squinted then blinked a couple of times, not believing what he saw. “Baby, why are you writing ‘Baba’ on everything?”

You paused and tilted your head back to look at him. “That’s their names. Baba Turtle and Baba Cat and Baba Bear and Baba-”

“Why do you call them that?”

“‘Cause look!” You picked up the grumpy frog sitting next to you and held it out for Bucky to see. “They look like Baba!” You hugged the plushie before setting it back down to continue writing. 

Bucky’s heart melted. His sweet, wonderful baby was so attached to these plushies that reminded them of him. His signature scowl that often got him into trouble brought them comfort. His friends even noticed and spoiled his baby rotten with even more of these toys. 

Bucky continued watching you work. He looked at the plushies differently now. 

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

Steve and Bucky were cleaning your playroom. Normally this would be your responsibility, but you had gone to bed a little earlier, and they didn’t want you walking too much with your injury. Steve was putting your plushies into their designated bins. He wasn’t harsh with them, but his efficient method of gathering an armful and plopping them down certainly would have raised an eyebrow from you. 

“Hey, go easy with turtle me,” Bucky teased. 

“Turtle you?” Steve asked. 

Bucky nodded proudly, then held the plush up to his face. “Don’t you see the resemblance?” 

“Whatever, punk. At least my face isn’t the reason we have a 50 gallon bin of stuffed animals.” Steve turned around and kept cleaning, completely missing the look of excitement on Bucky’s face. 

The next day, your Baba volunteered to pick up breakfast while Steve helped you get ready. Bucky stopped by a toy store on his way to the bakery. He’d seen this particular plushie before and knew that this was the perfect moment to get it for you. Not too long later, he was entering your home with bagels in one hand and your new friend in the other. 

Bucky hid the plush behind his back when he heard you and Steve walking towards him. 

“Hi, Baba!”

“Good morning, baby.” Bucky leaned down to kiss your forehead, then kissed Steve’s cheek as a thanks when he handed off the box of bagels. 

You hugged Bucky and couldn’t help but notice that one of his hands wasn’t hugging you back. 

“Baba, hug me better,” you whined. 

Bucky laughed. “Hang on, I’ve got somethin’ for ya.”

You gasped in excitement and took a step back so you could see. Bucky revealed the plush with a dramatic flourish, then somewhat nervously waited for your reaction. The stuffed animal had you in shock. It was a stuffed giraffe that stood with the most perfect posture. It had spiky hair, blue eyes, and a charming smile. You knew exactly who it was supposed to resemble. 

“IT'S DADA!” You squealed and graciously took the plush while running to the kitchen where Steve was. He was already making his way to you when he heard your scream. 

“Dada’s right here, bubba. What’s going on?”

You held up the plush while doing a little dance. “Look! It’s a Dada giraffe!”

Steve laughed then ran a hand over his face when he made the connection. You ran off to your playroom, saying something about “finding a Baba for this Dada” while your daddies shared a look. 

Bucky brought in Steve for a hug, patting his dumbfounded lover on the back. He playfully whispered in his ear, “We’re gonna need more space in the playroom.”

[pitchsidestories]

You can be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare II Ali Krieger x Mewis!Reader

masterlist I word count: 2599

The heat of the day was gone, and it started to cool down in New Jersey. The breeze made you shiver, so did the words of Ali Krieger with whom you had a love affair for the past weeks: “Y/n, you’re 13 years younger than me and I just go through a separation from my wife.” “Ali.”, you tried to soothe her doubting face. Sadness lay in the eyes of the defender while she was looking at you: “I can’t do that.” “But you kissed me first and you said that it meant something to you.”, the hurt in your voice was undeniable.

Regret was shimmering through her words: “I shouldn’t have done that. You’re way too young for me.” “I’m not that young, Ali.”, you interjected. Eyerolling Ali countered: “You’re 26.” “Yes, which makes me an adult.”, you protested. Softly the older woman replied:” I know you’re.”

This didn’t change the fact that you were 13 years younger than her, this much you both knew.  The defender made very clear that it was time to end the thing whatever you two had going on before anyone could get too hurt. So, you decided:” I should go.”

Meanwhile Ali’s daughter Sloane was standing right behind you and interrupted your talk, with big eyes she pleaded:” Don’t go, you promised me a good night story.” “No, she’s right. She should go.”, the dark-haired woman declared. The toddler looked disappointed at her mother: ”But-“ “It’s okay, Sloane. Maybe, we’ll do that another time in the future.” , you reassuringly hugged the little girl.

Audibly Ali cleared her throat: “Goodbye, I hope I’ll see you soon.” “We play in the same team, so I guess we can’t avoid seeing each other.”, you reminded her. Nervously the older woman went through her hair with one hand: “Yes, sure.” “Bye.”, you waved at them. “Goodbye.”

Were those tears shimmering in her beautiful brown eyes? But weren’t you the one who was allowed to grieve the possibility of what you two could have become when she ended it? Confused you left the home of the woman who broke your heart.

A worried Sloane looked up to her mother:” Why do you look so sad, momma?” “I’m not. I just have a hard decision to make. But it’s bad time for you now.”, Ali tried to shrug it off. “No.”, the toddler whined. “Yes, come on.”, the defender’s lips curled up into a tired smile as she knew all too well that her daughter would be soon asleep by the time her small head hit her pillow.

“Ali! Lynn! Doesn’t my little sister look super hot in this outfit?“, Kristie Mewis yelled a week later at Gothams next NWSL game. It has become kind of a ritual that the players took pictures of their outfits before the games for social media. You stood in front of the camera, rolling your eyes at your older sister; “Kristie, stop it.“ “Just admit that I picked it out for you!“, she protested with a laugh. You objected, frowning; “I picked it out. You just lend me the clothes!“ “I picked it out!“, Kristie insisted again. You could easily forget that she was the older one. “Whoever did it, I’m sure every queer woman would be happy to unpack her.“, Lynn interrupted your discussion with a wink.

Ali who stood next to her, waiting for her turn to be photographed, said flatly; “What’s there to unpack? She’s barely wearing anything.“ You could feel your cheeks heat with anger. Before you could answer, Kristie looked at the defender; “Don’t be mean, Ali. It’s a cute fit.“ She gave you a proud smile while Ali shrugged; “It’s true, Kristie.“ Your sister deliberately ignored her negative comments and walked up to you; “Come here. Let’s take some sister photos together to send to Sammy.“ “Sammy will pout forever about the fact that she wasn’t included in this picture.“, you reminded Kristie and immediately smiled at the thought of your other sister who currently played in Kansas. Kristie grinned into the camera; “Let’s be honest, she probably would have ruined it.“ “Still, you know her.“ “Yes, I do.“, she rolled her eyes.

You had taken a quick selfie with Kristie too and texted it to Sam. Now you held up your phone in Kristies face; “Told you. She’s already pouting in her text messages. We need to send her a good snack for when she’s doing her next podcast episode to make up for it.“ “Trust me, she’ll survive.“, Kristie replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. Lynn nodded in agreement; “Yeah, she’s already busy with other things. Sammy will forget about that photo by tomorrow.“ As her podcast partner, Lynn always knew what Sam was up to. “Yeah, you two are probably right.“, you shrugged but sent your sister in Kansas a heart emoji anyway. “We are. Believe us.“, Kristie winked.

After the match Ali was standing next to your locker, arms crossed in front of her chest: “Where do you think you’re going with this outfit?” “I’m going out.”, you shrugged with your shoulders. Although her reaction fuelled your anger. She did not have a right to react jealous. Curiously she asked: “Out? With whom?” “Oh, just with Kristie and some other teammates.”, you replied nonchalantly.

Bitterly the defender answered:” Go and have fun then.” Innocently smiling Kristie intervened: “Isn’t Ashlyn looking after your kids tonight? Come on, Ali. You should join us.” “I don’t think Ali is interested in partying with us.”, you told her. Much to both of your surprise the captain of the team replied:” You know what? Why not? I got nothing else to do.” “Great, this is going to be so much fun.”, your older sister chirmed. A small smile lightened up Alis whole face: “I’m sure it will be.” “We’ll see about that.”, you whispered frustrated.

The club Kristie chose was new and trendy and settled in Manhattan. The music was good, and you and your teammates enjoyed the night out. A stranger came up to you: “Hi, can I get you a drink?” She looked pretty and you could not help but to nod along: “Sure.” “No.”, Ali interrupted the talk between the two of you. “No? I think I can decide that on my own.”, you huffed. Determined the defender shook her head: “No, you can’t.” With these words she took your hand and walked off with you.

Furiously you glanced at her: “Seriously, what the fuck Ali?” “What? It’s impolite. You’re out with us.”, she pointed out. Annoyed with her actions you scoffed: We both know that’s not why you did it.” “Maybe not. But that doesn’t matter. The others don’t have to know.”, Ali admitted.  “Don’t worry, Kristie doesn’t know with whom I spent my summer.”, you disclosed. The mentioning of your older sister made the dark-haired woman smile in amusement:” “Kristie doesn’t seem to be bothered anyway. She’s on the phone with her girlfriend.” “And where are Kelley and Lynn?”, you couldn’t help but to ask. While Ali took you on to the dance floor without asking you: “At the bar.” “Oh.”

“Come on. You should have some fun.”, she smirked. As you were starting to move to the music you wanted to know from her:” Are you enjoying your parenting free night?” “I do.”, with that said you could feel her hands placed around your hips. You tried to keep your tone light: “That’s great.” “But I do miss them.”, the older woman answered. A sigh escaped your lips:“I miss them too to be honest.” “They miss you too.” Surprised you looked at her:”Really?” “Sure. You’ve met them quite a few times.”, Ali replied while her fingers touched your naked skin which made you shiver. Secretly you hated that your body still reacted to her like this.

Apparently, she had also noticed your reaction because she quickly pulled her hand away. “Yes, that’s true.“, you replied, trying to ignore what had just happened. Ali furrowed her eyebrows, looking at you intently; “Are you okay?“ “Yes, I’m fine… I think I’ll go home now.“, you explained, turning away from her. “Already?“ “Yes. Good night, Ali.“

You took your bag and were about to leave when you suddenly felt her hand close around your wrist. “Let me bring you home. Your sister obviously isn’t going to.“, Ali decided rather than offered. You followed her gaze to Kristie, who stood off to the side with her phone pressed to her ear and giggled about something her girlfriend must have said. “We should not interrupt her when she’s talking to her girlfriend.“, you had to admit. Ali finally let go of your hand; “I’m sure the others will make sure that she gets home safe. But now let me take you home.“

Your brain was constantly screaming at you while you accepted the offer and followed Ali to her car. The car ride was unusually silent but you were half expecting the awkwardness already. When the car stopped in front of your apartment building, you realized that Ali had gotten out of the car to open the passenger door for you. You gave her a tight smile; “Thanks for bringing me home.“ “You’re welcome.“, she answered politely. While pulling the keys out of your bag, you noticed that Ali hasn’t moved.

With a sigh, you turned to her, finally asking you the question that was bothering you the whole night; “Ali… did you already find someone new?“ The defender seemed taken aback by the question; “No. I’m not looking for someone right now.“ “I see.“ “It’s all a bit much right now. I thought I’d focus on myself and my children. What about you? Are you seeing anyone?“, Ali continued. You shook your head, your lips pressed together tightly; “No. I think I’ll focus on my career right now.“ “That sounds… reasonable.“ “I know.“ You were just about to turn the keys and unlock the door when Ali spoke up again; “You know I’m sorry, right? I didn’t think when we started this. Or else I wouldn’t have put us both through this mess.“ “So you regret us?“, you asked, your voice a pitch higher than you wanted it to be. “That’s not what I said.“, Ali retorted defensively.

You heaved a long sigh; “I guess it’ll be easier when the season ends.“ “Yes. I think it will be. That gives us more space.“, the defender agreed. “Right and we’ll never have to see each other again.“ Ali rolled her eyes at your remark; “You know, you can be a bit dramatic sometimes?“ “To be fair, I learned from the best. Kristie and you.“, you laughed involuntarily. “I’m not dramatic! Your sister is!“, Ali protested with a wide grin. “Yeah, she’s a little bit more drama.“

For a second, everything felt like the break-up never happened but then Alis’ face turned serious again; “See. I’m sure you’ll be alright. You’re an amazing soccer player, smart and pretty, and you have your two sister who always got your back. You don’t need me.“

“Ali, you know that’s not true. I do need you.”, you disagreed. Her expression was unchanged as she answered: “No, you don’t.” “I still don’t care about the age gap. I thought you should know that. Good night, Ali.”, you smiled disappointed. “I do know that. Good night.”

Yet she still did not move so you asked the defender:” Ali, why are you still standing here?” “What? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking.”, Ali blushed. “Thinking about what?” “Mistakes.”, the older woman truthfully replied. Sharply you shot back: “Well, I think you made very clear that we were a mistake.” “No. But apparently think that if you keep accusing me of saying that.”, she shook her head. You could feel your cheek turn red:” Sorry.” “ I don’t think this was a mistake. What was a mistake was the fact that I didn’t think about it before starting something with you. That would have saved us the trouble.”, Ali summed it up. Slowly you nodded:”Right.”

“But now I’m wondering if it’s a mistake to let you go.”, the defender cautiously looked into your eyes. The words left your mouth before you could think more deeply about them: “Don’t let go.” This said she closed the gap between you and pressed her lips onto yours while you replied to her kiss with an equally passion, running your hands through her dark long hair. All the emotions finally making their way out as you embraced each other. Needless to say, Ali did not leave that night.

After your now girlfriends last game where was a big party being held in her honour. All her friends were there to celebrate her long soccer career. Proudly you kissed her which made Kristie gasp out loud: “Oh. My. God!”

“Why are you yelling, Kristie?”, your other sister Sam Mewis asked amused because she was well versed in the older sibling’s talent to make everything super dramatic as if you were part of a reality show. “Our little sister is making out with Ali!”, the blonde shouted into her ear. Unimpressed the taller woman looked at her:” And?” “And seriously?!”, Kristie repeated playfully shocked.

That made Sam laugh out loud: “Yes?” “Why aren’t you freaking out about this?”, the smaller midfielder wanted to know. “Should I?” “Well, they look happy, right?”, the older sister observed as she glanced at Ali and you. Giggling the middle sibling remarked: “I don’t know. They’re about to eat each other up.”

Kristie grimaced in disgust; “Ew, gross.“ “As if you and were any better with your girlfriend.“, Megan Rapinoe interrupted the sisters, giving Kristie a smirk. Sam gasped with widened eyes, happy about the mutual understanding between her and Megan; “Don’t even get me started! You can’t even have a normal conversation without them making out!“

“Let’s try it with this new couple, shall we?“, Megans wife asked, a challenging look on their face. But before she could her plan to action, Ali took her lips off of yours for a second and yelled; “We’re busy here!“ “Get a room!“, Kristie answered. You eyed your sister with scepticism; “Coming from you?“ “Don’t talk to me in this tone, young lady.“, Kristie warned, playfully raising her finger at you. You cringed; “You’re my older sister, not my mum.“

Ali got up, taking your hand in hers; “Let’s leave, love.“ “Please.“, you answered, looking at your sisters with feigned disdain. “Bye, guys.“, Ali waved while gently leading you outside. Kristie watched you with her mouth open; “You can’t just abduct my sister.“ “This is consensual.“, you clarified with a laugh. “This better be!“, Kristie yelled after you. You smiled at her and Sam, waving them goodbye; “See you tomorrow.“ “Or not.“, Kristie added. Sam snorted; “Probably not.“ “Girls!“, you called. But Ali nudged you with her shoulder, giving you a wink; “They are not wrong though.“ “Go.“, Sam rolled her eyes, gesturing for you to finally leave. Sue smiled as she watched you two; “Seems like we don’t have to worry about Ali being bored after her retirement from soccer.“ “I was never worried about that.“, Megan replied, amused.

Kristie in the meantime had taken a step away from the group and was holding her phone to her ear. “Kristie, what are you doing?“, Sam asked. “Uhm, telling mum the news?“, her sister answered, looking at her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Sam shook her head at her; “Oh my god, Kristie. That’s exactly why I’m mums favorite.“

[rainroses45]

Imagine playing roblox with Sam and Dean

constant arguments while playing murder mystery

Dean being confused the entire time just screaming “who tf is sheriff?!?” while not noticing he had the gun

meanwhile sam would be chasing you across the map and killing you

“SAM I LITERALLY TOLD YOU NOT TO KILL ME UNTIL I COLLECT ALL THE COINS YOU NINCOMPOOP!!!”

“I TOLD YOU TO DUCK!”

sam would eventually go for dean since he was the only one left and he had the gun

“SAM GET TF AWAY FROM ME!!”

“i just want to talk dean, i just want to talk” he would say with a smirk

you would be screaming at dean looking at his screen “SHOOT HIM SHOOT HIM!!”

sam would end up killing him and then emoting on his dead body

also dean would be arguing in the chat 24/7 and get banned the first five minutes of the game and if sir got voice chat…..that’s a whole different fiasco

dress to impress would be hilarious

sam would pick the girl because of the several clothing options and dean would just be like “pack it up skittle squad”

dean ended up spending robux on VIP and still end up losing to you to which you realized you won with only six stars

“ONE OF YOU DIDNT VOTE ME FIVE STARS!!”

sam would raise an eyebrow at dean to who didn’t even look up from the screen to busy doing the obby

“don’t look at me the hat was not serving cunt..”

“WHY YOU LITTLE-“

my favorite part of this would be them playing horror games while listening to kahoot music

“after you sammy”

“you are the expert on hunting dean i insist you”

and you would be hidden in some closet asking “can i come out now?!?”

“sam’s already ahead of you- OW sam…you suck! ” “yeah but you swallow.”

dean would end up going first into the room and soon let out a high pitched scream at the mannequin moving

“dude we do this for a living it can’t be that scary”

“okay you go first sammy”

after that sam needed to purchase a new laptop after throwing his across the room after a jump scare

BONUS POINTS their avatars are probably bacons or the most craziest thing ever

i’m talking about dean being a giant piece of meat with a party hat or emo pou

sam would try to make his avatar look like himself or just stick with the bacon (sir would end up buying the giant chicken nugget and be forced to wear it)

either way playing roblox with them would be so chaotic

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x F! reader

Description: When Dean gets a call from an "old friend" asking for help, old feelings resurface leaving for messy feelings and a complicated hunt.

Warnings: canon violence, feelings of unrequited love, angst, loving someone being difficult, corpses, crime scenes, cursing, mentions of racism, racist ghost truck?

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 , @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn , @crazyunsexycool

Word Count: 9,251

Route 666

(Master list, Prev Ch, Next Chapter)

I lean against the expanse of the Impala, letting the bright sun shine over me. It was one of those cold but not cold days, where as long as the sun was hitting you it was perfectly right. Sam is next to me looking over the large map he has laid out on the hood of the car, trying to look for a way around a closed-off road.

I’m glad he knew what he was doing ‘cause my map and geography skills only went so far before I was lost.

Meanwhile, Dean was off to the side, his phone pressed to his ear his brows furrowed whoever he was talking to was clearly telling him something important and maybe shocking.

“Ok. I think I found a way we can bypass that construction just East of here,” Sam informs gaining my attention, “We might even make Pennsylvania faster than we thought.” I nod, taking advantage of his hunched-over figure to ruffle his hair, “Nice work, map man.” He snorts, rolling his eyes as he pushes my arm away playfully.

“Yeah. ‘Problem is, we’re not going to Pennsylvania” Dean points out, closing his phone and looking at it thoughtfully. I look at him confused, “We aren’t…?” He nods, wetting his lips, “I just got a call from an, uh, old friend. Her father was killed last night, think it might be our kind of thing.”

“What?” Sam vocalizes. “Yeah. Believe me, she never woulda called, never, if she didn’t need us” Dean clarifies. Without giving us any more information or even a chance to contemplate or counter his statement he gets in the car, “Come on, are you coming or not?”

The Impala cruises down the expanse of the road, a long beautifully green field on one side and a lake on the other. “By old friend you mean…?” Sam asks the question we were both undeniably thinking. “A friend that’s not new” Dean grumbles.

“Oh! Thanks, genius” I remark, he was being weird and that alone was not helping his case. “‘Said her name’s Cassie huh?” Sam said, trying a different angle, “You never mentioned her…”

“Didn’t I?” Dean remarks. He wasn't very good at hiding this one, the car falling silent in the wake of his stupid answer. He finally huffs, “Yeah, we went out.”

“You mean you dated somebody?” Sam asks with a snort, “For more than one night?”

“Oh come on Sammy we're all adults here, we’ve all dated before” I chime in with a smirk. He turns around in his seat, facing me with an expectant look, “Are we talking about the same person here? Dean doesn't date.” Sam exclaims and I push down the ache of that implication, “And aren’t you the least bit curious.”

“Oh no, I am,” I nod enthusiastically, laughing lightly, “I want all the details. I was just tryna be nice.”

He snickers, turning back to his brother, “You heard her, we want all the details.”

I swear Dean’s eye practically twitches, “Am I speaking a language you’re not getting here? Dad and I were working a job in Ohio, she was finishing up college. We went out for a coupla weeks.” 

I want to ask how long ago this was, was it months before his dad disappeared or a year or more ago, but I hold back on my questioning. “And…?” Sam pushes. Dean shrugs slightly.

“Look, it’s terrible about her dad, but it kinda sounds like a standard car accident. I’m not seeing how it fits with what we do,” Sam reasons, “Which by the way, how does she know what we do?”

Dean doesn't answer again, silently shifting in his seat uncomfortably. The realization hits me like a brick, “Oh. My. God,” I lean forward in my seat almost getting choked out by my seatbelt, “You told her! You broke the number one hunting rule! You know, not telling anyone, ever!”

“More than that!” Sam adds, “It’s our big family rule. Number one. We do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half, I did nothing but lie to Jessica, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a coupla times and you tell her everything?!” I try not to think about my own relationships both romantic and not that rarely ever made it past a couple of months before it ended, not only having to lie about being a hunter but a witch too. Dean stays silent, staring straight ahead, “Dean!” Sam yells.

“Yeah. Looks like,” he finally acknowledges. He continues to stare ahead, pressing his foot down harder on the gas pedal. Sam shakes his head, giving his brother his classic bitchface.

“Oh. He had it bad” I laugh leaning back in my seat, ignoring the sinking and stabbing feeling in my heart. I figured I’d have to keep doing so on this hunt.

The office was dark, the bright sunlight not able to stretch upon the large room not even with the help of glass doors. The place could really open a couple of blinds, let the light shine in.

An old white man with an interesting-looking tie, one of those Western ones with the jewel and black tether, talks to two people a man and a woman their backs towards us. And the way Dean pauses, staring at the woman it isn't hard to deduce she's Cassie. She and the older black gentlemen next to her seem to be having some sort of dispute with the old white guy.

Then suddenly both of the men walk away, clearly frustrated, leaving Cassie to stand there herself. She turns around swiftly, and almost like a perfectly curated romance movie she nearly hits Dean only inches separating the two. I didn't even realize he had moved forward in the time we've been standing here. 

Just looking at her I could tell why Dean fell for her, she's beautiful more than that. She could be a model with her beautiful long dark curls framing her face, full lips colored red, and big brown eyes. She must have stepped out of a magazine, everything about her screamed perfect down to her perfectly shaped eyebrows and perfect nose. “Dean,” she says, her voice smooth despite the look of slight apprehension.

He nods and grins, “Hey Cassie.” And they just stare at each other. He's looking at her in a way I’ve never seen him look at anyone before even despite the tension that hung in the air, unspoken words from however long ago.

His eyes seem to glimmer, you’d have to be a fool not to see he still has feelings for her, that they never went away in the first place. And that it’s more than just any feelings, he loves her and that is a hard pill to swallow.

He clears his throat, breaking the trance they were both in, “This is my brother Sam. And my friend Y/N.” She smiles at each of us before her gaze reverts to Dean, not that I could blame her in the slightest.

“Sorry ‘bout your dad,” he says.

“Yeah. Me too,” she answers.

Her family home was beautiful and extraordinarily large, it was a bit disturbing. Though maybe that was because it reminded me of my home before moving to Kansas, or at least what I remember of it. We sat in the sitting room on vintage settees, another reminder of that home–my mother would quite like the look of this cozy room. 

Cassie finally comes back adorning a tray of tea cups and a teapot along with the little bowl of sugar and a small pouring cup of milk, could she get any more perfect and wonderful? “My mothers in pretty bad shape. I’ve been staying with her. I wish she wouldn’t go off by herself. She’s been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about Dad,” she explains.

“Why?” Dean asks as she takes a seat across from us. He was watching her every move as if dedicating it to memory, I wonder if he’s thinking ‘She moves in the same manner she used to’ or maybe that it changed. Suddenly I was not so okay with sitting between the boys even though that's almost how we always sat when talking to someone on a hunt, as it made it harder for them to fight and made them slightly more comfortable with squishing into sofas with their large frames. But now, being in the middle I could easily watch how he looked at her, studied her.

She skillfully pours tea into each cup, “He was scared. He was seeing things.”

“Like what?” He asked.

“He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him,” she responds carefully.

“A truck, did he see a driver?” I ask, diligently accepting the beautiful teacup she handed me. I take a careful sip of the black tea, of course she would know and pick the perfect tea for guests. Does she have any flaws?

“He didn’t talk about a driver,” she answers, “Just the truck. He said it would appear and disappear. And, in the accident, Dad’s car was dented, like it had been slammed into by something big.”

Sam accepts his cup of tea, “Thanks. Now you’re sure this dent wasn’t there before?” And as predictable as Dean was he looked at his cup weirdly before depositing it back on the tray, that man was not a tea person he’d take a coffee or a beer any day. I think the only reason he drank the tea I gave him when he was sick was because he knew how desperate Sammy and I were. 

“He sold cars. Always drove a new one. There wasn’t a scratch on that thing,” she explains, “It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks leading from Dad’s car…leading right to the edge, where he went over.” She swallows harshly, bowing her head, “One set of tracks. His.” 

Dean’s face softens, eyes filling with sympathy, “The first was a friend of your father's?” She nods, “Best friend. Clayton Soames. They owned the car dealership together. Same thing. Dent. No tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about Dad. He ‘lost control of his car.’”

I force my brain to rid itself of any thoughts of Dean and Cassie's relationship. This was like any other hunt, something weird is going on and we are here to help, nothing more.

It was weird, cars don't just drive off the road like that and then have newly made dents that match another vehicle. “Is there any reason you can think of as to why your father and his partner might've been targets? Competition?” I ask. She shakes her head, radiating certainty, “No.”

“And you think this vanishing truck ran them off the road?” Sam points out.

“When you say it aloud like that…,” she sighs, “listen, I’m a little skeptical about this…ghost stuff…or whatever it is you guys are into.”

Dean huffs, “Skeptical. If I remember, I think you said I was nuts.” 

“That was then,” she bites back. Then they fall back into that thing where they just stare at each other, “I just know that I can’t explain what happened up there. So I called you,” she adds, directing her words only to him. I clear my throat, weary of the bubble they seem to have put around themselves, “You were right in calling” I reasoned softly, “It is very strange and on the off chance it isn’t anything supernatural then it was certainly a cover-up.”

Her perfect eyebrows furrow but before she can respond the sound of the front door opening catches all of our attention, a middle-aged white woman enters through and I assume it's her mother. She shared her mother's eye shape and her nose, but the rest of her she must have gotten from her father.

As if we had gotten caught we all rise from the sofa. Cassie goes over to her mother, taking her arm, “Mom. Where have you been I was so…” her mother cuts her off looking at us, “I had no idea you'd invited friends over.”

“Mom, this Dean, a…friend of mine from…college. ‘His brother Sam and friend Y/N.”

“Well, I won’t interrupt you” her mother smiles nervously.

“Mrs Robinson,” Dean says suddenly, “We’re sorry for your loss. We’d like to talk to you for a minute if you don’t mind.” And as if offended she recoils, “I’m really not up for that right now.”

The morning sun is dimmer today, perfect for the scene we were walking upon. The man Cassie was standing with yesterday, Jimmy, was the newest victim. He died in the same way as the others sometime late last night. Cassie was again arguing with the old white man from yesterday. As we approached I could hear his condescending voice, “Close the man road. The only road in and out of town? Accidents do happen Cassie, and that’s what they are. Accidents.” 

We stand beside her, Dean speaking up immediately, “Did the cops check for additional denting on Jimmy’s car, see if it was pushed?” 

Without missing a beat and without looking away from Cassie the man asks, “Who’s this?”

“Dean and Sam Winchester, Y/N L/N. Family friends. This is Mayor Harold Todd” She replies smoothly. This man went from just any old white guy to a powerful old white guy, even worse. And he had two first names, you never trust someone with two first names. Reluctantly Mayor Old Guy answers Dean’s initial question, “There’s one set of tire tracks. One. ‘Doesn’t point to foul play.”

Cassie scuffs, “Mayor, the police, and town officials take their cues from you. If you’re indifferent about…” 

He cuts her off, “Indifferent!”

“Would you close the road if the victims were white?” she counters.

Oh. Could she get any more iconic?!

“You suggesting I’m racist Cassie?” He spits, “I’m the last person you should talk to like that.” 

“And why is that?” She counters, stepping closer to him.

“Why don’t you ask your mother” he answers before walking away. My jaw drops, what the hell is going on in this town?

I huff, blowing a piece of hair out of my face. I really didn’t want to get dressed, for as much as I’ve been trying to ignore the whole Dean and Cassie situation I was feeling horrible.

I sit on the soft motel bed in nothing but my underwear and a nice white button-down, haven given up on dressing. I feel stupid. Incredibly stupid.

Maybe Sam’s words had gotten to me, maybe I had gotten my hopes up without even realizing it.

He loves someone else, and he’s had for a while. I always thought when you love someone those feelings don’t ever truly go away, there's always a part of you with them. They wind up crossing your mind and you wonder where things went wrong. But I guess I never considered this would also apply to Dean, which is cruel to believe within itself. Which is funny too, all these years I’ve spent loving him…But Sam was right he didn’t date so I guess I assumed he never fell for anyone during his countless one-night stands.

I know death is cruel but maybe love is tied with it. Because I feel like someone took my heart and ran with it, leaving me with this void in my chest and an ache so intense that it throbs in its place. It was stupid to think I had a chance to begin with. I knew not to believe I had one in the first place, but somewhere along the line I had completely forgotten about any of that. So much for listening to my past self, if I had maybe I wouldn't be feeling so damn bad.

But I couldn't be mad. Cassie was wonderful in every possible way and you don't need to know her for long to realize that. They seemed perfect for each other really. She was feisty and had no issue putting someone in their place, which I quite admired, and I know Dean could use that every now and then. If she was a jerk I’m sure I’d have no issue disliking her, but she wasn’t! She was impossible to dislike, and it would be horrible of me to hate her just because she harbors feelings for someone that I love or the fact that he loves her back. That wasn't her fault, it was neither of their faults.

Loving someone has to be the hardest thing one could do.

I get up from the bed and put on my skirt. I couldn't sit here forever, the boys would come knocking and I wouldn't have a good excuse as to why I’m in a mood. Quickly I check myself in the mirror, at least I didn’t cry which means I don't gotta redo my makeup, even if it was minimal to begin with.

How do you stop loving someone? I could use that answer.

I knew I loved him for a long time, too long. But I suppose I didn’t realize just how bad it had gotten, how much it had flourished and I had never expected that to be possible. I love him.

I love him and it hurts so much.

How many times did I have the opportunity to tell him? It had to be in the hundreds. Maybe it was better that I didn’t, he loves someone else and I should be happy for them. I am happy for him. He deserves to be loved and be able to love. Yes, I am happy.

I approach the two older men having lunch, focusing on the wet ground and the wholesomeness that is them eating on a pier. “Hi, sorry. Are you Ron Stubbins?” I ask, taking the lead. I needed to throw myself into the work, I needed the distraction. The older man nods looking at us confused, his black cap bobbing with his head. “You were friends with Jimmy Anderson?” Dean follows up.

“Who are you?” Ron responds with, sitting up straighter. He was sizing us up, skeptical of us, which he had every right to be. “We’re Mr. Anderson’s insurance company. We’re just here to dot ‘I’s’ and cross ‘T’s’,” Dean explains, flashing his badge.

“And they needed to send three of you?” He counters. I giggle, tilting my head slightly, “Would you prefer me leaving?” I ask sweetly. And as predictable as men can be he drags his eyes across my body before shaking his head, “No. No. That won’t be necessary.” I ignore the dirty feeling that washes over me and sticks to my bones like a new layer of skin, it was necessary to do that because now he won’t bother questioning us anymore on that topic. 

“We were just wondering, had the deceased mentioned any unusual recent experiences?” Sam questions, getting back on topic. Reluctantly Ron looks away from me to look at the man who questioned him, “What do you mean, unusual?”

“Well visions, hallucinations” He elaborates. 

“We’re working with local psychologists to broaden our questioning and research,” I explain, trying to clear the confusion from his face, “It’s all very standard.”

“What company did you say you were with?” Ron counters. Maybe he was more on guard than I thought. “All National Mutual” Dean answers smoothly, “Tell me, did he ever mention seeing a truck? A big black truck?”

“What the hell ‘you talking about?” Ron exclaims, “‘You even speaking English?”

Wow, what a lovely guy.

“Son this truck, a big scary monster-looking thing?” Ron's friend suddenly says.

“Yeah actually, I think so” Dean answers. The man hums to himself in thought, please let this interaction be useful. “You’ve heard of something like that?” I ask the man. “I have,” he nods, not bothering to elaborate.

“You have. Where?” Sam pushes.

“Not where,” he finally answers, “When. Back in the ‘60s, there was a string of deaths. Black men. Story goes, they disappeared in a big, nasty, black truck.”

“They ever catch the guy?” I ask. He shrugs, “Never found him. Hell, not even sure they really looked. See there was a time, ‘this town wasn’t too friendly to all its citizens.”

“Thank you” Sam nods.

We walk away, heading back to the Impala. “Well, it seems like history is repeating itself,” I began, “From the lack of investigation and racism down to the–”

“Truck,” Dean says, finishing my sentence. “Keeps coming up doesn’t it?” Sam adds.

“You know, I was thinking. You heard of the Flying Dutchman?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, a ghost ship, infused with the Captian’s evil spirit. It was basically part of him” Sam answers, explaining the lore. Dean nods, “So what if we’re dealing with the same thing? You know, a phantom truck, an extension of some bastard’s ghost, re-enacting past crimes.”

“The victims have been black men” Sam continues the theory. I half-shrug, “I don't know. The town has to have more than a handful of black people, but it only seems to be going after specific people. It’s practically targeting those connected to Cassie and her family. I’m sure there’s some deeper link there.”

“That’s why I think it’s more than that,” Dean says.

“All right. Well, you work that angle, go talk to her,” Sam tells his brother specifically, clearly playing matchmaker. “Yeah, I will,” Dean agrees.

“Oh, and you might also wanna mention that other thing” Sam noted, a playful smile on his lips. Always the meddler. “What other thing?” Dean asks, either genuinely lost or faking it. “The serious, unfinished business?” Sam elaborates. I huff a laugh, “Yeah, seriously Dean it's so painfully obvious. Just talk to the girl.” It pained me to even suggest that, to motivate him in such a way but I want him to be happy, and if that means being with her then so be it.

Dean stops just as we reach the car, going obstinately silent. Sam huffs a laugh this time, “Dean, what is going on between you two?”

“All right, so maybe we were a little more involved than I said,” he finally admits. I give him a pointed look, “Yeah…that was obvious.” 

He huffs, “A lot more. Maybe. And I told her our secret, about what we do. And I shouldn’t have.”

“Ah look man, everybody’s gotta open up to someone sometime,” Sam reasons, being a little too understanding compared to how we were only yesterday. “Yeah I don’t,” Dean argues, “It was stupid to get that close. I mean, look how it ended.”

I smile at him softly, hoping any sadness is concealed far behind my eyes, and I realize Sam is giving him the same look except he’s nearly beaming. “Would you both stop!” he shouts. But we don't because this is a side of Dean we’ve never seen before, and it is beautiful even if it's heartbreaking for me. “Someone blink or something!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up.

“You loved her,” I say softly, the gape in my chest deepening at the verbal declaration. Saying it aloud was so much worse. “Oh God,” he groans, turning to the Impala. “You still do!” I call after him.

“You were in love with her, but you dumped her,” Sam states, connecting the pieces. Dean goes silent, staring at the ground, then carefully glances at his brother before reverting his eyes. “Oh wow. She dumped you.”

I have to stop myself from taking in a sharp breath, there was a lot to this he wasn’t telling us. But why would she break up with him if she still has feelings?

“Get in the car” Dean demands, done being “emotional” and open, “Get in the car!”

Sam hands me my hot chocolate, but not even the sweet treat or the soft snow falling just outside can lift my mood. It makes me feel a little better but it does not fix my heart. Dean didn’t come back last night and I know it’s because he spent the night at Cassie’s. I’m happy they worked things out and hopefully had a wonderful night but again it does not fix my heart.

I held the cup tighter, welcoming the immense warmth it brought to my frozen hands as we stepped out of the small coffee shop. The air was crisp yet gentle as the light fluffy snowflakes descended onto us, the cold flakes collecting in my hair. A small smile graced my face, maybe it was making me feel better. I like the cold, preferred it even, I was cozy in my thick turtle neck and my favorite fleeced-lined jacket. 

Sam and I walk in comfortable silence side by side, sipping from our cups and basking in the scenery of the unexpected snow. It was early May in Missouri, it really shouldn’t be snowing but I suppose if it could snow here a little in April then early May couldn't be that weird. Plus it was a light snow that likely wouldn't even stick. But the calming scenery is cut in half by an ambulance that speeds past us, sirens blaring. We share a questioning look but ultimately ignore it until two cop cars rush past us heading the same way. That we can’t ignore. With another shared look, we follow after the sirens.

I look out at the macabre scene, the yellow caution tape not having stopped me from investigating thanks to the use of a fake ID. The body had been bagged after countless photos were taken, but the blood of Mayor Todd still stains the streets. It was a gruesome scene, arguably worse than the others in this case his organs squished out like roadkill and, truthfully, that’s what he had become. 

“L/N” Sam calls out from just a few feet behind me. I turned around swiftly, the snow whirling around me, Dean stood next to his brother. He came. 

I walk over to the two boys, watching Dean’s clear expression of shock masked by annoyance, “‘You gonna ask me a bunch of questions too?” he asks. I look at him confused, “...no” I drag out slowly. His face seems to relax slightly, something unrecognizable passing in his eyes, “Good,” he nods. 

“I already know you made up–made out” I add, his face drops, “Anyways, crime scene,” I point behind me.

“Every bone crushed. Internal organs turned to pudding,” Sam explains the case, catching his brother up, “The cops are all stumped, it’s like something ran him over.” The wind picks up again, swirling the snow in its own private storm, the cold will help with the case as it preserves the body longer. “Something like a truck?” Dean asks, gaining his footing in the case.

“Yeah, except of course there’s no tracks” I answer. He nods, rubbing a hand down his jaw and I have to force my eyes away from the movement, “What was the Mayor doing here anyway?”

“He owned the property. Bought it a few weeks ago” Sam says referring to the building site.

“But he’s white, doesn’t fit the pattern,” Dean points out. Sam nods, “Killings didn’t happen up on the road. That doesn’t fit either.”

I shove my hands into my pocket, taking a quick look back at the crime scene before turning back to the boys, “Then it seems like this case is one of revenge.”

I shuffle through the papers in front of me, glad that I was sent to do research at the town's main library rather than be at the newspaper office with the boys and Cassie. She was probably looking at him all sweetly and being a kind person, and I did not wish to see the loving way they looked at each other. And if avoiding that meant having my nose in dusty boxes of court records then that was okay.

I pull out my phone calling Sam directly instead of Dean, the phone rings a couple of times before he picks up, “Hi” I greet, “I got some info.”

The line goes quiet for a second before I hear his voice, “Alright you're on speaker.”

“Ok, so,” I start, balancing my phone between my ear and my shoulder as I look over the papers, “I have courthouse records here, and according to them Mr and Mrs Mayor bought an abandoned property. The previous owner was the Dorian family who owned it for, like, 150 years.”

“Dorian?” Dean repeats back. “Yes.”

His voice grows quieter but still in range enough for me to hear, “Didn’t you say the Dorian family used to own this paper?” he asks someone else in the room. “Along with everything else around here. Real pillars of the town,” Cassie answers. “Right, right” Dean responds followed by the clicking of keys.

“You got something there?” I ask, readjusting my phone. 

“Think so” Sam mumbles, seemingly focused on whatever was happening over at the office.

“This Cyrus Dorian. He vanished in April of ‘63. The case was investigated but never solved. It was right around the time the string of murders was going on back then,” Dean informs, adding more information to what that man yesterday had told us.

“Well to add to that information, the Dorian place seemed to be in really bad shape when the Mayber bought it,” I add, “He bulldozed the place.”

“Mayor Todd knocked down the Dorian place?” Dean asks, presumably, Cassie. “It was a big deal” she answers, “One of the oldest houses left. He made the front page.” I huff a breath, everything connecting yet leaving so many questions at the same time. “You got a date, Y/N?” Dean calls back.

“Um,” I hum shuffling the papers around and reading over the words quickly, “‘3rd of last month.” The line goes quiet again the only sound ringing back being the sharp noise of fingers on a keyboard, “Mayor Todd bulldozed the Dorian family home on the 3rd,” Dean finally responds, “The first killing was the next day.”

Pouring the boiled water into the mug I take a quick look back, Dean kneels in front of the shaken-up Cassie rubbing her knee softly and looking at her with pure determination and adoration. I swallow roughly looking back at the mugs in front of me, nearly overspilling and burning myself. 

This was not the time to grieve a love that never happened. Cassie called Dean afraid, having seen the black truck. We were here to help, I was making a soothing herbal tea for her and her mother to calm the nerves. 

Finishing with the mugs I carefully carry them into the sitting room. Sam takes one from me, gently handing it to her mother. I hand the mug to Cassie, her shaky hands accepting and rattling the cup, Dean immediately moves to sit at her side but it does not stop his protectiveness if anything it amplifies it; he practically radiates it. “Maybe you should throw a couple of shots in here,” she says, half joking.

I huff a laugh, “Well while the effects of alcohol do have the capabilities of easing the central nervous system, when the effects wear off your body will be jolted back from its depressive state which would really only make you feel worse, more anxious as well as stressed.”

She gives me a half, almost awkward, smile before taking a sip from her mug. Did I say too much? Why didn’t someone stop me? Someone should’ve just cut me off, especially if I wasn’t helping.

“You didn’t see who was driving the truck,” Sam says suddenly, pulling the awkwardness out of the air. “It seemed to be no one. Everything was moving so fast. And then it was just gone,” she explains, “Why didn’t it kill us?”

“Whoever was controlling the truck wants you afraid first,” Dean answers. This would explain why at least one of the victims had seen it and truthfully thought they were going mad. “Mrs Robinson,” Sam began, “Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died.” Mrs Robinson doesn't answer, seemingly lost in her mind as she shakes. “Mom?” Cassie says carefully, worry laced in her voice.

The older Robinson shakes her head nervously, “Oh. Martin was under a lot of stress. You can’t be sure about what he was seeing.”

“Well after tonight I think we can be reasonably sure he was seeing a truck. What happened tonight, you and Cassie are marked. Ok?” Dean snaps, “Your daughter could die. So if you know something now would be a really good time to tell us about it.”

“Dean…” Cassie warns. But her mother's face contorts in emotion, something in her breaking, “Yes. Yes, he said he saw a truck.”

“Did he know who it belonged to?” Sam asks, taking a seat across from the woman. “He thought he did,” she answers cryptically. “Who was that?” Dean pushes. Her eyes get watery and she sinks into herself, “Cyrus. A man named Cyrus.”

My gaze flickers to the boys, we are all thinking the same thing, I look back at her, “By any chance was it Cyrus Dorian?” I ask carefully. Dean pulls out a newspaper from inside his coat, handing it to the woman. She doesn't shake her head or nod only replying with, “Cyrus Dorian died more than 40 years ago.”

“How do you know he died, Mrs Robinson?” Dean asks softly, “The papers said he went missing. How do you know he died?” 

She hesitates, her mouth agape like a fish out of water or in reality that of a person who got caught, “We were all very young,” she says, “I dated Cyrus a while, I was also seeing Martin…in secret of course. Interracial couples didn’t go over too well back then. When I broke it off with Cyrus and when he found out about Martin, I don’t know, he, changed. His hatred. His hatred was frightening.”

“The murder,” Sam voices.

Her voice wobbles, “They were rumors. People of color disappearing into some kind of truck. Nothing ‘ever done,” she swallows shifting in her seat, “Martin and a…Martin and I, we were gonna be, uh, married in that little church near here, but last minute we decided to elope as we didn’t want the attention.” She pushes her short hair out of her face, stressed. “And what became of Cyrus?” I ask.

Endless tears fall down her cheeks, “The day we set for the wedding, was the day someone set fire to the church. There was a children’s choir practicing in there. They all died.” I suppress the gasp that wishes to leave my lips, the room seems to dim with the information. What was meant to be a beautiful day was soiled by the blood of innocents.

“Did the attacks stop after that?” Sam asks softly, careful of her fragile mindset.

A sob escapes from her chest, “No! There was one more. One night that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him terribly. But Martin, you see, Martin got loose. And he started hitting Cyrus and he just kept hitting him and hitting him.”

“Why didn’t you call the cops?” Dean pushes. She continues to cry, “This was forty years ago. He called on his friends, Clayton Soames and Jimmy Anderson, and they put Cyrus’ body into the truck and they rolled it into the swamp at the end of his land and all three of them kept that secret all of these years.” 

“And now all three are gone,” Sam acknowledges. This all confirms the theory of a vengeful spirit. “And so is Mayor Todd,” Dean adds, “Now he said that you of all people would know he is not a racist. Why would he say that?”

“He was a good man,” Mrs Robinson answers, “He was a young deputy back then investigating Cyrus’ disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done he…he did nothing, because he also knew what Cyrus had done.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Cassie asks, her voice hard yet full of emotion. I couldn't imagine what was going on in her head, to find out something like this–“I thought I was protecting them. And now there’s no one left to protect,” her mother reasons.

“Yes, there is” Dean counters, fiercely. His green eyes harden with determination as he looks at Cassie.

I sit on the cold hood of the Impala, gently kicking my legs back and forth watching Dean pace in front of me. Sam leans against the car next to me, his arms crossed as he too watches his brother, “Ah, my life was so simple. Just school, exams, papers on polycentric cultural norms…”

I look at him with an amused smile, “I have no idea what that last part is but it sounds fun!” That stops Dean in his tracks for just a half of a second, he points at us, “No it doesn’t. I saved him from a boring existence.”

“Yeah, occasionally I miss boring” Sam reasons. I nod enthusiastically, “Honestly, we have not had a normal day in like months. Kinda miss it.”

Dean brushes our light complaining off, “So this killer truck–”

“I miss conversations that didn’t start with ‘this killer truck’” Sam quips with a dramatic sigh. I failed to hold back my laughter, Dean laughs lightly and for a brief moment, things feel how they used to, “Well this Cyrus guy. Evil on a level that infected even his truck. When he died, the swamp became his tomb, and his spirit was dormant for 40 years.”

“So what woke it up?” Sam asks.

“The construction on his house. Or the destruction,” Dean points out. 

“Right. Demolition or remodeling can awaken spirits, make them restless” Sam recalls. His brother hums a ‘yes’, nodding.

“Like that theater in Illinois, ya know?” Sam references, and I in fact had no idea what he was talking about. “And the guy that tore down the family homestead, Harold Todd, is the same guy that kept Cyrus’ murder quiet and unsolved,” Dean adds, bringing it back to the case at hand.

“So now his spirit is awakened and out for blood,” Sam acknowledges. 

“Yeah, I guess. Who knows what ghosts are thinking anyway” Dean shrugs. 

“Wait, does this mean we have to go swimming in that swamp?” I ask. I mean if we had to salt and burn the bones then we would need said bones which are in a swamp, how nice. Dean smiles at me, I know that look. “No” I warn, pointing at him like an animal that did something wrong. “You said it” he rationalizes. 

“Noooo” I whine a pout on my lips, “Do I have to do it alone?”

His wicked smile deepens, “‘Course not, Sammy’s gonna be with you.”

Sam’s shoulders drop, “Man,” he sighs. 

Suddenly a familiar figure approaches, her hands tucked into the back pocket of her jeans. Dean stands up straighter, “Hey.” She smiles sadly, “Hey. She’s asleep. Now what?”

“Well, you should stay put, look after her…and we’ll be back. Don’t leave the house,” Dean explains, looking at her in that way that hurts my heart. But she smiles, any worry melting off her face, “Don’t go getting all authoritative on me. I hate it.”

Dean glances back at us, Sam looks down grinning acting as if neither of us could hear the conversation. He turns back to Cassie mumbling something I can't quite make out but whatever it was must have been good because he slowly leans in to kiss her. I drop my head and gaze at the very interesting ground, trying my best to ignore the sound of their intensifying making out. A pang of jealousy, longing, and pain shoots through my chest. If the ground wanted to just open up and consume me now I wouldn’t complain, I’d even help it and just throw myself in it wouldn’t have to work very hard. Sam clears his throat, I look up but Dean just holds out a finger to wait as he brings Cassie even closer.

I drop my eyes again. 

Loving someone never hurt so bad. Loving him never hurt so bad. 

Was it wrong to love him? Was this always going to be my fate? To see him evermore with other girls, loving them more than he could ever love me. 

“You two comin’ or what?” Dean asks. I look up once more and this time his lips aren’t on Cassie.

I tug on the chain again, making sure it's secure, my hands getting wet in the process. I wipe my icky hands off on my jeans as I back away, “Alright he’s good,” I call out to Sam who stands feet away from me, closer to the butt of the pickup Dean was driving. He gives a thumbs up to his brother who begins to move the car forward, the pickup moving slowly in the weight of the heavy truck and water pressure.

We had already gotten it up a lot, but it had gotten stuck on the side of the swamp so we had to readjust its hold to get it the rest of the way up. 

The years in the water had diminished it. The old black truck was now more like a rust bucket, remains of the swamp water spilling out from the seams. “All right. A little more…little more,” Sam leads, “All right, stop.” 

The engine shuts off and Dean heads to the Impala, he pulls it open rummaging through the various weapons. “Now I know what she sees in you” Sam declares with a snap of his finger, meaning he finally understood what that look in her eyes meant. “What?” Dean asks.

“Come on man, you can admit it. You’re still in love with her” Sam clarifies. I nod even though the implications hurt, “Plus it’s not like no one else knows. So the only person you’re hiding from is yourself.”

Dean looks up from the trunk, “Uhh, can we focus please.”

I purse my lips, “Yeah…focusing has never really been our strong suit…” A container of salt is pressed into my chest, “Hold that” Dean says swiftly.

His expression hardens, all jokes put to rest as he dishes out items, “Gas” he says first, handing the large container to his brother, “Flashlights,” he lists out next filling my empty hand with one. 

“Ok, let’s get this done,” he quips, closing the trunk.

We trudge back over to the rusty truck, our flashlights leading our way across the grass. Dean places his hand on the handle and I must wonder how he isn’t grossed out by just the feeling of the flaked paint and rotting metal. He glances at us in a silent ‘you ready?’ We give a nod and he opens the door.

A decaying wet corpse falls out the door and onto the soft grass, a small gush of water following its lead. I leap back like a scared cat, clasping a hand to my mouth and nose the decomposition of the body as well as its marinating in swamp water left a putrid smell. One perhaps worse than anything I've ever smelt before which was saying something considering what I’ve hunted. 

“All right let’s get to it,” Dean says. Sam pours the gasoline all over the body, careful not to get it close to us and I jump in with the salt, opening the little latchet to sprinkle the small white crystals over the open-mouthed corpse. The satisfying scratch and flick of a match sounds softly beside me in the quiet night followed by the drop of the matchstick on the body. In mere seconds the remains go up in flames, the warm glow of the fire reflecting on the truck just beside it. I hoped no one would come looking over here with the whirl of smoke twirling above us, the heat powerful enough for me to take another step back. 

“Think that’ll do it?” Sam voices, staring down at the burning corpse. But his question is followed by the revving of an engine and two blinding lights pointed at us. Without looking in the direction I knew it was the ghost truck. “I guess not,” Dean quips.

 “So burning the body had no effect on that thing?” the younger Winchester asks. “Sure it did. Now it’s really pissed,” Dean responds. I glare at him, “I don't know if this is the time for cool jokes.”

“But Cyrus’ ghost is gone, right Dean?” Sam asks, a hint of panic in his voice as the tuck stares us down. But his brother doesn't answer right away, instead, he starts to walk away, “Apparently not the part that’s fused with the truck.”

 I go on my tip toes trying to peak into the truck, maybe we missed something like a severed piece of him that didn’t spill out but before I can vocalize this Sam is calling out to his brother, “Where are you going?” I turn around, catching up to the boys, “Goin’ for a little ride,” Dean answers as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “What?!” Sam and I exclaim in unison, “That’s a horrible idea!” I add. But he ignores our concern, “Gonna lead that thing away. That busted piece of crap, you gotta burn it.”

“How the hell are we supposed to burn a truck, Dean?” Sam asks, voice raising in volume. But being the determined man he is he shrugs, “I don’t know. Figure something out.” He rounds the car, opening the driver's door, “At least let one of us come with you, this is horribly dangerous,” I try to reason.

His eyes move up and down my face, before he settles on my eyes once more, “‘Exactly why you’re not comin’ with.” Before I can come up with a retort on how stubborn he is he settles himself into the car, closing the door behind him. I look to Sam for any support on this but he just stares at the car muttering, “Figure some–something–”

I rack my brain for ideas because Dean wasn’t going to listen and would rather be all hot and stubborn than be reasonable, “An explosion?” I suggest. Sam shakes his head, “No, that wouldn’t work. Parts would go everywhere and everything has to burn.”

I huff, frustrated, “I hate when you’re right.” 

Dean reverses the Impala and takes off, the engine revering. As predictable as possible the ghost truck roars after him. I try to rack my brain for more ideas, even if we could suddenly light a truck on fire it would take too long for it to burn completely, “Sam, please tell me you got some idea rolling around in there.” He doesn't answer, lost in concentration with his bottom lip between his teeth. 

My phone suddenly rings in my pocket, I pull it out swiftly seeing Dean’s name glowing. I flip it open bringing it to my ear, “You okay?” I say immediately. “Uh…yeah,” He says but I remain not convinced, “what are we doing?” 

I look at Sam, panicking slightly, “Um, Sam what are we doing?”

He pulls out his phone, “You gotta give me a minute.” He presses his phone to his ear, “He says to give him a minute, I think he’s callin’ someone.”

“I don’t have a minute!” He half yells. “Dude, I don't know!” I panic, “Just…just don’t die, okay?”

“Trying here sweetheart.” I look back at Sam who has stepped away, I give him a hand motion of ‘please hurry up.’ He nods, coming closer to feed me info, “Ask him where he is.” I pull my phone away from my ear putting him on speaker instead, “Okay, Dean where the hell are you?”

“In the middle of nowhere with a killer truck on my ass!” he exclaims, “It’s like it knows I put the torch to Cyrus.”

“Listen to me, this is important” Sam orders, calmly, “I have to know exactly where you are.” Seemingly taking his advice he goes quiet for a beat, “Decatur Road, about two miles off the highway.”

“Ok. Headed East?” Sam follows up.

“Yes!”

A rattle and a bang followed by skitting noise sounds from the phone followed by cursing, “You son of a bitch!” 

“Sam!” I yell, begging him to hurry up. “Ok, uhhh, turn right! Up ahead, turn right.” Again the line falls silent, “You make the turn?” Sam questions softly. My heart beats faster with each silent moment that passes. “Yeah, I made the turn!” Dean yells, “You need to move this thing along a little faster.”

“All right, you see a road up ahead?” Sam asks.

“No!... Wait. No, yes, I see it.”

“Ok turn left.”

“Wha..?” Dean half says before he goes quiet again the only sound coming from the line being more screeching and shuffled movement. “All right, now what? He finally responds. 

“You need to go seven-tenths of a mile and then stop,” Sam explains. I looked at him strangely, noticing he wasn’t on the phone anymore, but what the hell was he talking about? “Stop?” Dean voices.

“Exactly seven-tenths Dean” Sam repeats. 

“God, I hope you know what you’re talking about,” I tell the man beside me. “Me too” he mumbles over the sound of his brother repeating the words ‘seven-tenths.’ I look at him my mouth agape, “You wha–” 

“Dean, you still there?” He cuts me off, focusing on his brother again. “Yeah,” Dean responds.

“What’s happening over there?” I ask, not knowing was killing me. “It’s just staring at me,” he answers carefully, “what do I do?”

“Just what you’re doing, bringing it to you,” Sam replies.

“Wha–” Dean began before cutting himself off, the line going quiet for the umpteenth time, “Come on. Come on,” he mumbled quietly but just loud enough for the phone to pick it up. My heart thumps in my chest, anticipation and fear running through my veins as well as something else from those two stupid words–something had to be wrong with me to find that hot now of all times.

The line is silent, for one beat, then another, then another…I grip my phone tighter, “Dean? Dean, are you there? ‘You okay?”

“Where’d it go?” he responds with a mix of shock and confusion. “Dean, you’re where the church was,” Sam explains. “What church!” he freaks.

“The place Cyrus burned down. Murdered all those kids,” Sam clarifies. 

“There’s not a whole lot left,” Dean responds.

“Church ground is hallowed ground, whether the church is still there or not. Evil spirits cross over hallowed ground, and sometimes they’re destroyed, so I figured, maybe, that would get rid of it,” Sam explains. I hit his arm, “That was a hunch?!”

Dean adds in with the lecturing, “Maybe? Maybe!! What if you were wrong?!”

“Huh,” Sam hums, “Honestly, that thought hadn’t occurred to me.”

I glare at him sharply, hitting his arm again as I say, “You’re too sassy for your own good.” He laughs, a boyish grin on his face.

I wait in the back, Sam in the driver seat for Dean to say his goodbyes. I liked the back seat, more now than ever because being in the front would mean being able to see out the side mirror and watch Dean kiss the woman he loves and say a goodbye I was sure he didn’t want. 

Life was being really unfair and uncool.

I bury my nose in my new book, it would be better to just escape into this world than have to deal with my feelings here in the real world. My feelings in the real world were not fun, they were depressing and hurt…a lot. But no amount of ink on paper formed into beautifully crafted words could fill the gaping hole in my heart, still, I tried as there was nothing else to do.

What is worse is knowing there will never be a chance for me to be loved by him, at least not in the way I do, because there will always be a place in his heart for her. He’ll think of her all the time, dream about her, and perhaps see her in the breeze. His heart belongs to her, and possibly always has.

I needed to accept that. The sooner I did the quicker the pain would go away. I couldn't go on believing I had a chance I needed to huff the flame out now. 

No more hope. No more love. We’re friends, always have been, and always will be. That will have to be enough. I couldn’t love him anymore, not if it meant feeling this much pain. I wouldn’t accept his touches anymore for they gave me more hope than I’d like to admit.

No. I was wrong.

Worse of all is knowing that I can’t just stop loving him. Let it be the Gods' fault or the stars or whatever it is I’m meant to believe in but my heart has long been his and always will be. I could never love someone the way I love him, I wasn’t capable of that. Let it be that our love was written in the star's constellations that it was undecided by me or him for my love had to transcend the binds of that nonsense.

I loved him and he did not love me and maybe it was that which I had to accept because to stop loving him would mean to stop my heart from beating. Though even then I suspect not even the afterlife could keep me from my eternal love. And maybe that was pathetic or stupid, especially since he did not care for me in such a way, but it was the truth and no one has ever claimed truth to be a beautiful thing.

I’m brought back to reality with a bump. When did we leave and start driving? I look out the window, we had already made it to the highway…I look at the boys, but both seem fine. Ok then.

“I like her,” Sam says, and suddenly I wish to be lost back in the state I was in moments ago. I would love not to hear or be a part of this conversation. “Yeah,” Dean replies, seemingly just to get his brother to stop.

“You meet someone like her, doesn’t it make you wonder if it’s worth it? Putting everything else on hold, doing what we do?” Sam asks innocently perhaps trying to get him to understand what he had felt with his girlfriend. But something flickers in his face and suddenly he’s making eye contact with me in the rearview mirror, his eyes written in apology as if it just hit him now what all of this was doing to me. It was that puppy dog look. 

I smile sadly at him, giving him a curt nod in a silent ‘it’s okay.’ His gaze flickers back to the road.

Dean leans forward pulling sunglasses from the glove box, he puts them on carefully ignoring his brothers' initial question, “Why don’t you wake me up when it’s my turn to drive?” He slouches down in his seat with a sigh. I shake my head, roll my eyes, and go back to my book.

We were leaving Missouri and all would be well, or as well as they could be.

[preseriesdean]

for @spnficrecfest day seven: tropes 🧡 also check my case fic list which has some more curse-y case fics!

Speechless by candle_beck 11.2k words, rated T, published 2008 Dean loses his voice and their rapport is only moderately impaired.

Crying Talking Sleeping Walking by FrancesHouseman 3.3k words, rated E, published 2016 The witch dies laughing at Dean. It's never a good sign.

Talk around it by @goshen-applecrumbledore 12.8k words, rated E, published 2021, underage “It’s just a truth spell,” Sam tried. “It could be worse.” Dean looked at him like he was stupid. “Yeah, thank God we don’t have a giant, life-ruining secret that we really, really don’t want our dad knowing. Good thing he’s not on his way here right this second.” He scoffed. “Could be worse. Jesus. Good to know you can still lie.”

Heart Shaped Balloon by winsive 18.6k words, rated E, published 2022, underage Sam and Dad are fighting. No surprise, but it's the weekend before Valentine's Day and Dean isn't missing out on the chance to bang a cheerleader just to console his bratty little brother. He does bring back a heart shaped balloon for him, though. It's not supposed to be cursed.

Flood of Water by sevenfists 9.9k words, rated E, published 2006 "Please tell me you know how this happened," Sam said. "Yeah," Dean said. He sat down on the closed lid of the toilet and let his arms fall away from his chest, his clasped hands settling in his lap. His t-shirt clung to him, worn thin from too many washings, and Sam could see the heavy weight of his breasts, his nipples hard in the cold air.

All That Sam by Catchclaw 10.4k words, rated M, published 2012 Dean thinks of himself as an innovator. A sex god. A professional problem solver. And then Sammy gets hit with some hoodoo and all of that shit gets shot straight to hell.

The Talking Cure by Mollyamory 2.4k words, rated T, published 2013 Dean tries to keep his mouth shut, but as much as he wants to keep quiet, he also wants to say--

Desiderata by @dyed-red 45.2k words, rated E, published 2023, incomplete Dean is hit with a curse. It shouldn’t take that much to resolve, could be a gift under other circumstances, but life’s not that simple for the Winchesters.

Out of Context by doctor_idiot 7.2k words, rated E, published 2017 When Sam and Dean keep waking up naked, all over each other, and without recollection of the previous night, the first thing Sam does is dig into the lore to find out what's going on. Dean is more concerned with the question why he always seems to be the one who bottoms.

And Baby You Can Sleep While I Drive by merle_p 8.6k words, rated T, published 2021 “So,” Dean says, hesitantly. “This is a dream then?” Sam blinks, confused. “Well, obviously.” “Huh,” Dream-Dean says and scratches his neck. He shifts awkwardly from his right to his left foot but otherwise stays where he is.

Cupid's Got A Gun by geckoholic 13.5k words, rated E, published 2012, non-con Fuck-or-die, set in early S4. But they've been fucking for years, so that shouldn't be a problem, right? Wrong. Ever since hell, Dean's in no hurry to get that show on the road again. They've tried, and it doesn't work, too many bad memories from what's been done to him downstairs. A case that involves a cursed cross and a vengeful witch takes that choice away from them, though…

(for you and me) i got no alibi by remy 23.4k words, rated E, published 2019 There are people hitting on Sam wherever he goes, and Dean is doing weird things like holding doors open for him and touching him way more than is necessary, and it's all driving Sam up the wall. It doesn't help that he's been in love with Dean for just about forever, and all of it feels like a mockery of something he'll never get to have. Meanwhile, Dean is at his wits' end trying to figure out how he can make Sam realize that he is, in fact, trying to get into his pants.

[cringemesstickles]

A Game Of Chase… But Why?

(TickleTober Day 2: Chase)

Summary: Sam and Dean are wrapped up in a game of chase. Castiel is confused.

Pairing: None (Maybe Destiel if you squint)

Word Count: 1293

A/N: ikik another SPN fic… I can’t help it :v

———————————————————

The bunker was quiet as there wasn’t much to do. There were no apocalypses, no universes shattering, no Lucifer… just a normal day.

And there, sitting on the couch, was the former angel of the Lord, Castiel, hands clasped in his lap as he stared at the wall with his usual pensive expression. His thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sound of boots pounding against the floors, as well as familiar voices shouting through the halls.

“Get back here, Sammy! You know what’s coming!” Dean yelled, his voice carrying a mixture of playfulness and warning.

Sam darted around a sharp corner, his longer legs giving him a slight advantage over his older brother. The angel could overhear the back and forth and the rapid footsteps, but he couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what was going on.

“Come on, man! I didn’t finish it on purpose! If you wanted it so bad, you should’ve put your name on it!” cried the younger Winchester, his laughter echoing through the labyrinthine halls.

The noise was quite distracting. Castiel considered moving thinking spots before the brothers came bounding into the living area, giving the angel a start.

Sam ran in first, darting behind the couch before Dean followed, taking a wide stance on the opposite side, his hands raised and his fingers formed like claws. Throughout this, neither of them even acknowledged their angelic friend, who could only hope to figure out what on earth was unfolding in front of him.

“Excuses, excuses!” Dean growled, a playful grin on his face as he circled the couch, attempting to subtly close the distance between him and his brother. “You know what happens when you mess with my pie!”

Just as Dean was about to lunge, Castiel’s gravelly voice caught their attention.

“Has Dean been possessed? Why do you appear to be so… urgent?”

The brothers stopped in their tracks, sharing a baffled look before turning back to Castiel.

“Cas, Dean isn’t possessed…” Sam explained, a small, amused smile on his lips. Meanwhile, that cheeky expression found its way back to the older Winchester’s face as he eyed the youngest in the room.

“Oh, I’m possessed, alright… possessed by the tickle monster!” he growled before jumping toward Sam while the younger was distracted, his fingers latching onto the man’s sides and digging in with vigor.

As Sam yelped and burst into a fit of boisterous laughter, grappling onto the back of the couch to try and keep upright, Castiel cocked his head to the side, looking more confused than before as he watched the scene unfold.

“Tickle monster? I do not recall reading about this in lore books… I suppose the name is self-explanatory… How do you defeat it?”

The laughter only got louder at that question, and Sam shook his head, trying his best to answer their friend’s question while his brother was destroying him with tickles.

“N-No, no, no, it’s not a real—haha—monster! Dean’s just being a goof!”

Odd… so this was a playful thing? Castiel had made a lot of progress over the years, but sometimes he thought he’d just never truly understand humans.

“Ah… so you’re not really in danger?”

Dean chuckled, shaking his head as he moved to target the younger’s tummy, causing him to shriek and double over in hysterics. “Nope. The only thing Sammy’s in danger of is dying of laughter… Ain’t that right, Sammy?”

“Shut uhuhuhup!” came Sam’s frantic response.

Castiel’s brow creased with puzzlement, his eyes scanning the scene as if that would help him put the pieces together.

“Why were you chasing him then? He seemed quite alarmed.”

“Because it makes it more fun!”

It seemed that every answer only led to more and more questions. Why on earth would being chased be fun? Castiel had been chased before, and he recalled it as a very unpleasant experience.

“Fun? I fail to see how running for your life could be ‘fun,’” he said bluntly, tuning out the sound of Sam’s squeals as the elder’s fingers scribbled all over his belly.

Dean rolled his eyes and decided to show Sam some mercy so that they could help their angel friend out, giving his younger brother a pat on the shoulder and helping him stand. How on earth were they supposed to explain this to an angel? It was clear that Castiel didn’t have even a shred of understanding on this matter, so they were practically starting from nowhere.

“It just kind of is… the thrill of the chase, y’know?” Dean tried his hand at explaining, admittedly doing a horrible job. As the taller man sat up and plopped onto the couch, he decided to take a crack at it.

“It’s just a playful thing, Cas… When you’re not in any danger and you’re just messing around, chases can be pretty fun.” Sam smiled, trying his best to put it in simple terms. He’d also learned that it was better to explain things in a more blunt manner, since the angel could be quite… literal.

Castiel hummed, nodding slightly. “I see… Perhaps I should try to engage more. I often forget to, as Dean once put it, be less angelic.”

Dean gave a snort of laughter, raising his hands to threateningly wiggle his fingers at the angel. “Oh, buddy, you do NOT wanna get roped into this!”

At that, the angel gave a tilt of his head, his expression a mixture of amusement and bewilderment as he processed his friend’s words. “Dean, I do not believe you could take me… I am an angel of the Lord.”

Sam’s gaze bounced back and forth between the two, interested to see where this would go. Should he intervene? Maybe… but how? And frankly, why? This was pretty damn hilarious. And so, he kept his mouth shut, choosing to observe, but not before popping in with a friendly warning.

“Cas, I really wouldn’t challenge him… He’s ruthless,” he said, his voice the kind that speaks from experience. And if anyone could speak from experience on this matter, it was definitely Sam.

But the angel did not heed Sam’s warning. “Perhaps to you, Sam. But a human cannot merely take down an angel of the Lord.”

Dean’s eyes were twinkling with mischief, subtly shuffling closer to his angelic friend, hands raised menacingly. Dean was always up for a challenge. “Don’t tempt me, angel… I’ll make you eat those words.”

Castiel crossed his arms, giving a huff of disbelief. “Words cannot be eaten, Dean,” he stated matter-of-factly. It was at this moment that Sam realized he might have an out for the long, drawn-out tickle attack he would endure had this not become a thing. So, he sat up and casually started to shuffle away.

“Well, you guys have fun… Just try not to kill each other.”

He got all of three steps away before he heard a shrill shriek, and when he turned around, he saw his older brother straddling Castiel’s hips and digging his fingers into the angel’s ribs. While Sam wanted to stick around and watch the endearing scene, he knew it would only be a matter of time before Dean remembered their unfinished business… so he had to skedaddle.

“Oh, don’t think this means you’re off the hook, Sammy! Once I’m finished with this angel, you’re toast!”

And that was Sam’s cue to run… again.

While the angel didn’t fully understand games of chase, he did understand friendship and brotherhood… and that was precisely what he got from the Winchesters. Maybe he’d come around eventually, but for now, he was more than content to play around the Winchester way… with lots of teasing, banter, and of course, the occasional tickle attack.

[mangosaurus]

now that the trailer's been out for a few days let'sssss talk about how the rest of the camp fam might react to finding out ben knew brooklynn was alive (since kenji's reaction has already been made thoroughly apparent LOL):

SAMMY - denial denial denial. not over brooklynn, but the fact that ben would keep them in the dark like that. less so because she's a naturally empathetic and forgiving person but more so because it'd be hard to accept that ben couldn't trust them. especially after their whole thing in s1e05, sammy would have thought they'd be past this by now. still, i think her and ben might be able to get over that hill faster than him and kenji

YASMINA - hurt, confusion, but maybe ... understanding? i think after all the work she's put into healing her trauma, she'd try to see things from ben's perspective. not only have they always shared a sort of kinship with each other, but a big part of yasammy's strife in s1 had to do with yasmina pulling away from sammy, so she might be able to personally relate to ben doing the same thing to them (i.e. hiding the truth from his friends). i'd make reference to a plot point from s2e01 to further support this speculation buttttt i don't wanna spoil that for anyone who hasn't watched the recaps, so i'll just leave it at that for now!

DARIUS - this one is ... hard. darius has a tendency to shut down in situations where he feels guilty or betrayed: it happened in jwcc season 1 when ben fell from the monorail, it happened in jwcc s2 when brooklynn made that "cool dad" comment, it happened in jwcc s5 when kenji sided with his father, and it happened once more in jwct in the aftermath of brooklynn's "death" (which he admits to himself circa s1e02, "you're right, i did hide!"). so i can very much see darius responding with ... cold despondence. a kind of deafening disappointment. but, i don't know if darius's hurt over ben hiding the truth from them would totally override the relief and hope he might feel at finding out brooklynn is alive, in contrast to kenji's anger. if they get more details on brooklynn's whereabouts, the kinds of things she's been up to, i can also see him being more willing to look past that, partially out of an obligation to make things right (still feeling guilty about standing brooklynn up the night she was attacked) and partially out of sentiment (being in love with brooklynn). meanwhile, kenji wouldn't have these same hangups, at least not to the same degree as darius; while i believe kenji still loves brooklynn, maybe even looks back on certain aspects of their relationship fondly, i think he's well past being deeply, truthfully in love with her. basically, i don't think there would be as much multiplicity to his emotions in this situation in comparison to darius, which is what makes summing up darius's potential feelings that much more difficult for me

[msp9]

ONE-SHOT

I can't keep waiting for the trailer.

To be clear I have not seen the ep. or anything, This is simply my idea of what could happen based on the info we got from comic con and people who saw the first episode and reviewed it. So keep in mind this contains slight spoilers.

+ some hints of Benrius that i added.

If you want to avoid spoiler do not read this.

__________

“it's been days. We don’t even know where we’re going.” Yaz said frustrated.

“Wherever were going it can’t be too far away now.” Darius said trying to bring some sense into everyone.

Sammy, who sat on the on the bed they had assembled from debris, joined the conversation,

“Darius, I know you’re probably right this time… But you have been saying that for days now.”

“I know but we can do this, we’ll just… Kenji I think it’s your turn to bring some food in.” He noted, changing the topic.

“If by ‘food’ you mean lettuce the herbivores eat then sure.” Yaz sarcastically pointed out.

“I don’t find it that bad.” Ben answered, trying to support Darius. Yaz wasn’t impressed, she crossed her arms “no one believed that dude.”

Sammy interrupted “It reminds me of the salads me and my siblings… used to prepare.” her face dropped.

Meanwhile, Darius took a glance towards Kenji’s direction; he sat on wooden box they had stolen from another container nearby, staring down on the floor.

The mood started getting tense as they kept arguing behind Darius.

“Guys, Kenji will just find some food then we’ll figure something out, Right Kenji?” Darius said.

“Kenji? You there?” Ben asks.

Kenji abruptly stood up “What- Yes!” He quickly responded.

Everyone stared at him in confusion.

“Okay…” Ben muttered.

“Alright.. and whilst you’re at it me and Ben can go fill our water bottles.” Darius suggested, giving Ben a soft glance, as if to say ‘right Ben?’.

He received a warm smile in return.

“Okay! So, I’ll go do that… now.” Kenji awkwardly said already backing out of the container.

“Wait!- Maybe bring Yaz with you?” Darius said in a loud-but-not-too-loud-voice in hope Kenji would hear him. But to no avail, he was too far gone.

On the contrary, Yasmina had clearly heard Darius idea and was giving him a not so welcoming stare, she wasn’t a fan of the idea. After all these events, she didn’t want to leave Sammy’s side.

“Safety in numbers” Darius smiled awkwardly raising both his hands to shoulder level, palms facing outward.

Sammy nudged her girlfriend on the arm, Yaz looked at her, then back at Darius again.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Great, Sammy you can keep an eye out for guards.”

The cowgirl nodded in response.

“Okay, let’s go” Ben said putting a hand on Darius back.

“Be careful,” Sammy said to her girlfriend.

“I would be more concerned about the others.” Yaz joked.

“Yes I will.” she added.

----

As Yaz made her way around the containers avoiding getting caught, she finally spotted Kenji on the left side of the ship,

He was picking up some lettuce from an herbivore’s container.

Before she ran towards him, she checked both sides in case any security member was around, then looked back at Kenji, and stopped herself.

He stood at the edge of the ship. With the lettuce in his hand. Staring down at the water. Then in a swift motion threw all the greens in the water.

Wtf

“Kenji what are you doing?” She asked in a low voice, while running towards him.

Kenji seemed more shocked than relieved that she was there.

“Why are you following me?” he whispered, a tone of anger in his voice.

“I wasn’t, Darius asked me to help you out- And why did you throw our food in the ocean anyways?” Yaz asked upset.

Kenji rubbed his head.

“I was just… Feeding the fish.”

Yaz eyelids fell halfway.

“Really dude, feeding the fish?” she mocked.

Kenjis expression changed.

“Yeah, what if I was? Do they not deserve that?” he said sharply.

“And what were you planning on saying to the others, when you returned emptyhanded?” Yaz questioned.

“I don’t understand what your problem is. I’m fine.” He declared walking away.

Normally Yaz would have gotten angry, but this time she felt concerned for some reason.

His whole behavior was weird.

Now that she thought about it, he had been acting weird this whole time on the ship.

On her way back Yaz picked up some more food. She was in a hurry thought beacuse her mind was still stuck on those last words Kenji had said.

She may not be certified yet but she knew a thing or two about body language and way of speech.

He was obviously not fine. Kenji was hiding smth.

Yaz finally got back to their temporary shelter and from what she saw; Ben and Darius had already returned from their mission.

They and Sammy were sitting around the box Kenji was using as a chair earlier.

They were playing the ‘Guess the dinosaur’ game, That Darius came up with for entertaining reasons.

And like always, Darius was winning.

Yaz enjoyed seeing them laugh and chuckle with every unrealistic answer either Ben or Sammy gave.

But soon her mind went on Kenji again, she wanted to find him and possibly figure out what’s bothering him.

“Hey, has Kenji returned yet?” she asked looking around the container.

“No, wasn’t he with you?” Darius asked, confused.

“We kind of… got separated”

“Separated?” Ben asked.

“Yeah.. Have you not seen him?”

“No, Is he okay?” Sammy asked worried.

“It’s okay nevermind, he’s probably just late.” Yaz said, trying to avoid further questions.

“Anyways, I brought food.”

“Good, I’m so starving.” Sammy said, Yaz smiled and handed over the lettuce in her hand.

"I think i left some more outiside" Yaz noted.

"Me and Ben saw some pretty datk clouds in the distance." Darius noted.

“I'll be quick, be back soon.” Yaz added going back ouside to find Kenji.

________

Hope you enjoyed that :)

Ik it was a bit rushed but oh well. I needed to do smthing instead of waiting around for the trailer so i wrote this at 3am.

(If you watched the spoiler ep. review than you probably know what Kenjis up to hehe🥪)

[sprirave]

04:54.

✪ | Teen!Dean Winchester x Reader.

\❦\ Summary : You're Dean's bestfriend since birth and as you two grew up, you always stuck around each other, so when he started hunting you always went with him, the passenger seat reserved just for you. Spending so much time with him lend you to grow some feelings for him, but you're always uncertain about him reciprocating.Maybe the day that something will change finally came.

!!! Warnings : None, it's my first fanfic ever, there's just a kiss, it's kinda fluff, just indulging fantasy, it's a slight scribble, my first little written post here on Tumblr, and since I'm new, if you read this you could leave a comment or something, maybe even some advices<3, I'm thinking about writing a few more scenarios maybe even start a series about Teen!Dean. Thank you so much love. Have a good reading, indulge! Stay frosty!

S.K.✮⋆˙

━━━━━━━━━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━━━━━━━

4:54.

Dean liked that time of the morning, sometimes, when the sun shined brighter than the usual, pouring into the motel room from the half closed curtains, falling over the bed and wrapping everything in a warm yellow hue.

He liked getting up early on those days, carefully laying your head, nuzzled into his chest, back on the pillow and slipping out of the creaky wooden bed, as silent as possible in order to not wake you up.

He'd get clean, shower, shave, exercise a bit and scribble down a few notes for the day, make a few calls to Sammy bored at home, whining about how he wants to come hunting with you and him on the next case.

Dean comes to a stop when he catches a glimpse of your asleep face, how you shine under the sun directly falling over you, peaceful and quiet.

You two met back when you were little, he was a boyish kid, sprayed with strong freckles in the summer and a big grin with missing teeth. He shoved you off the swing on a random afternoon at the kids park, and when you started crying he helped you up, gave you one of his random car toy and declared himself to be your bestfriend.

After that day he took really seriously his job, always bringing you silly stuff , then school came in, and you did everything together, homework, group projects, playing out, everything really, where Dean was, y/n was too.

You discovered his parents shady work soon enough, on a winter evening, when John came back home covered in blood.

You learnt the way, holding onto Dean hands, taking steps together, as much to John's disdain, you learnt the hunter way, and Dean always defended you whenever John came up with stupid shit against you.

He never left you behind, always bringing you to hunt with him, always having your back, and you in the meanwhile...fell.

"Y/n..."He called out your name and you stirred up with a slight groan, dragged out of your sleep, eyes slowly blinking open as you searched for Dean.

Who can you blame? Dean is so easy to love, and you have him around you all of the time.

"When did you left the bed?" you mumbled, eyebrows furrowing, sitting up and giving yourself a moment to get aware of your surroundings, but immediately leaning onto his hand as he combed his fingers through your messy hair, chuckling just slightly.

Maybe you're misunderstanding these affectionate gestures, maybe he's just being platonic, just your bestfriend since birth, maybe he doesn't like you back.

"Didn't wanted to wake up, it was too early."

Yet he always manages to makes you feel that familiar warmth in your guts when you stare at his face, and feel his touch, the bright sun making you recognize a few golden flicks of color in his apple green iris, and you can't stop your feelings.

You want to be the only one to have enough time and light to be able to notice those details, you want to he Dean's one and only.

Dean notices the silence and raises an eyebrow, frowning confused, he knows you well enough, and yet, you ask yourself why he doesn't catch on your feelings.

"M'fine." You crack him a smile, and after leaving the motel the drive is weirdly uncomfortable, air thick with misunderstood tension.

"What are you doing?" you raised your head from your hands, heart spiking up, yet frowning when he suddenly pulled over in a long abandoned way at the start of a forest, in the middle of nowhere.Dean killed the engine and gave you his best serious face, turning to you.

"What's going on with you? You're acting so out of yourself and I---don't understand what's wrong? Is it me? Did I do something wrong or what?---"

He expressed himself with hasty and frustrated hands gestures, stuttering even, it was unusual of him, it made you hold your breath as you listened to him babbling.

"I'm---"

"Don't bullshit me, m'not stupid, what now, you don't trust me anymore?"

The situation got you blocked worse than ever, it was now or never, because he's not going to believe to any excuse you make up, and if you confess it could either end good or ruin your friendship forever.

Dean's eyes drilled into yours and he gripped the steering wheel of the precious Impala he got from John a few weeks ago after turning legal, he pursed his lips, eyebrows furrowing together, and he almost seemed to start to get angry because you opened and closed your mouth like a fish, not uttering a word.

He dropped his shoulders disappointed after a few seconds of silence, staring at his shoes as he turned Baby back on, and before you realized it, you had one hand fisting his hair and the other one holding his nape.

Your lips met.

You couldn't stand how he pried his eyes off you, maybe you wanted that attention of his forever, for yourself only, maybe you wanted to be selfish.

Dean tensed up but didn't hesitated, hands flying from his keys straight to your waist, holding you almost possessively as he tilted his head, knocking your nose softly together as he deepened the kiss.

When you two pulled apart a few seconds passed just by watching each other in silence with wide eyes.

"I love you too I guess?..." Dean muttered and you couldn't help but giggle a bit, nodding.

"I love you Dean." You giggled more as he pulled you in another kiss.

Maybe today was a good day, maybe something's horrible it's waiting for you two later, but right now it doesn't matter.

Dean Winchester loves you back, with no maybe.

___thanks for reading!✮⋆˙

S.K.

[animangalover-writes]

So I had a dream about wincest(being obsessed with each other as always lol)

I was half asleep when I wrote this so bear with me

So I had this dream where some monster essentially got to sam and manipulated his world into his like ideal world. And his ideal world was him being a kid again with Dean taking care of him, just them in this little house. The same perfect day played over and over again, like a time loop. And somewhere outside this house is the real Dean, caught a time loop of his own, as he continously breaks into this little house to try to get to Sam and free him. But this monster always gets to him first and catches him off guard. It's like he doesn't remember the last time he was in the house, like it always feels like the first time setting foot in it, because the creature uses the same move over and over to kill him(but like, he doesn't really die, its more like this world is its own little pocket dimension and every time dean dies he wakes up outside of it again). And ever time, kid Sam hears something, but the monster/kid Dean tells him it's ok and they ignore it.

By the way, the monster in my dream is basically like this black-grey sentient goop(think Venom) that can morph itself into anyone it wants, and is hanging in weird strands all around the house that Sam doesn't notice. But dean does, and even though he tries to avoid stepping in it, it always catches his foot and essentially Webs his hands and gun in place, disarming him, then slams him against a glass mirror or a wall hard enough that it kills him.

Anyway, somewhere outside of this loop, Dean is vaguely aware that this monster always catches him with the same move, and the only reason he dies every time is because the surprise attack makes him too unsteady to shoot it, and catches him at a point where his footing is off, so he's easy to take down. But every time he enters the house again, he forgets what he learned, and it takes him down all over again. He admits to someone unseen that the reason it takes him down so easily/catches him off guard is because he's alone, aka Sam's not there to help him.

At some point, Sam starts becoming more aware that something is off, and that things are too perfect.

This is where the dream gets kind of fuzzy, but essentially Sam becomes aware enough and, still as a kid, sees adult dean walking through the house and calls out to him, confused. This time, Dean sees Sam and looks utterly relieved and says "Sammy..." like he's so happy to have found him. But this distraction causes the monster to catch him off guard again. It catches his foot and grabs his hands in its weird goo, but Sam is here now, and he sees this creature for the first time. So he yells out to Dean to move a certain way that gives him enough leverage to shoot the creature(this was mentioned as something dean always knew would help but always forgot when in the house).

Meanwhile, the monster actively tries to get into Sam's mind again and tell him, as young Dean, that everything will be ok so long as he let's him kill this intruder who's trying to hurt them. Finally it stops working on Sam and he becomes his real age again.

Some fight happens in between that I didn't really get to see, but the outcome was this: they managed to hurt the creature by working together, now that Dean wasn't alone, he doesn't die and actually gets some good shots in. At some point, Sam rushes the thing and the only reason it doesn't hurt him is because it grew some sort of attachment to him during the whole thing, and so he's the only one that it would let kill it(feels like a metaphor for Sam and Dean's real codependent obsessive relationship).

Anyway I don't remember much after this so that's basically all I have, so yeah.(also ignore any typos, I didn't edit this. I just woke up)

[valleydean]

Chapter 6 [Read Here]

CHAMPION Part III of Heavyweight a deancas boxing au by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) read from the beginning | playlist | tip

SUMMARY: Brooklyn, 1933. Dean Winchester, the number one contender, trains to become the next Heavyweight Champion of the World, and this time he won't let anything get in his way. Title holder Castiel Novak has second thoughts about retiring, especially when someone from his past arrives in New York and asks for his help. Meanwhile, a new contender rises to fame and threatens to complicate both of Dean and Cas' ambitions - and their relationship.

CHAPTER PREVIEW:

The telephone’s ringing filled the quiet house. Dean sprinted downstairs, his polished shoes drumming on the hardwood and his loose tie nearly slipping off his neck in his haste, because no one else was home to pick up the phone. Sam and Eileen had taken the baby to Eileen’s aunt’s in Mott Haven for a few days. So, he had to get to it before it stopped ringing. Because that had to be Cas. No one else would have been calling so late.

On the first floor, his toe connected with one of Maura’s rattles that had been dropped on the floor. The thing made a racket as it skittered across the room and slid beneath one of the chairs, but Dean didn’t care about that right now. He’d been waiting for Cas to call all night.

He dove toward the phone, nearly breathless, and picked it up with a clatter on what must have been the final ring. “Cas?”

“Dean?” Cas’ confused, slightly concerned voice came in tinny over the line. “Are you… alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean assured him with a grin to hide his embarrassment before he realized Cas couldn’t see it. “I just ran down here. Didn’t wanna miss you.”

“Oh. Apologies. I didn’t think you’d be busy.”

“I’m not.” Dean swallowed down the lingering tracing of breathlessness and asked, “How’d it go?”

“I won,” Cas said. There was the slight sound of a fog horn behind him. Dean could picture him, sitting on the edge of his hotel bed, the balcony doors open and lacy curtains billowing while river boats and barges chugged down the churning Mississippi behind him. The streets below would be filled with people and music.

“’Course ya did!” Dean cheered proudly into the phone. “Never doubted you. How’d you do it?”

“Technical knockout in the fifth round,” Cas said.

“He had enough so soon, huh?” Dean said, even though Cas’ returning grunt sounded pretty tired and worn out, too. Dean held the phone between his shoulder and ear and tied his tie. Across the living room, the moonlight came in through the front window.

“You celebrating tonight?” he asked.

Cas huffed. His voice was all gravel and grit, and Dean missed the rumble of it beside him. “No. I’m too tired. But… tomorrow, we will. Gabriel demanded it. He said Michael, Raphael, and I weren’t any fun.”

Dean snorted. “Well, he’s got a point.” Apparently, Dean could still feel Cas rolling his eyes halfway across the country. It made his smile brighten. “Drink a Sazerac for me.”

“Okay,” Cas agreed. Then, “What about you? What are you doing tonight?” His voice was soft now, almost wistful, like he wished he was there. On any other night, it would have made Dean feel the same longing, because he missed Cas’ fingers carding through his hair while they sat on the couch and listened to the radio. He hated hugging a pillow at night, pretending it was Cas.

But tonight, the question made the skin on Dean’s face tighten.

“Ah, nothing really,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Jo was supposed to come over for some drinks, but she bailed. So, it’s just me, Sammy, and Eileen staring at each other all night.” He gave an exaggerated groan, his eyes flashing to the empty sofa and armchairs. “Fun times.”

There was a pause over the line. Dean thumbed at his ring. His other hand tightened around the phone.

“How are you and Sam?” Cas asked. “After that night…”

Dean exhaled and leaned against the wall. He didn’t really want to be reminded of Cas’ going away party. “We’re fine. Same old. Sammy got over it.” He scoffed. “Eileen looked like she wanted to tear me a new one for a couple days, but we’re good.”

That was mostly true. Things were still a little tense, but it’d blow over eventually. Sam was usually at the office most nights, anyway, so it wasn’t like he was even around to be pissed at Dean.

If anything, Bobby was the one Dean still needed to dodge. Ever since Ed and Harry had their fifteen minutes of fame in the papers and radio shows, Bobby had been riding Dean’s ass, despite the fact that the rest of the world had moved on.

“Good,” Cas said, seeming satisfied. “And how’s Jack? He’s staying out of trouble?”

“Yeah, no more schoolyard fights,” Dean told him, even though Cas would probably know better than him. Kelly had let Dean take the kid for ice cream once since Cas had left, and that was only because Charlie had come along too—and because he’d shown up at Kelly’s door unannounced so she wouldn’t be ready with an excuse. It was bullshit. “Everything’s good. Don’t worry so much. You’re not missing anything.”

There was a rapping of knuckles at the front door. Dean’s heart nearly leaped right out of his damn mouth. He looked at the door, seeing Lee cupping his hands over the sidelights to peer inside.

Behind him, on the street, Dean saw the glowing headlights of Lee’s new Cadillac 325 waiting for them. Lee had been so excited to show Dean the car—and, as much as Dean hated other people driving him around, he could make an exception this time. The Cadillac was the most luxurious car money could buy. Dean was a little jealous of the new toy, but he was mostly happy for his friend. Lee deserved it. He’d been working hard.

And, hey, maybe Lee would let Dean take it for a spin.

When Lee caught Dean’s eye through the window, Dean held up a finger to tell him to wait. Lee put up both hands in surrender and leaned back.

“Well, I miss you,” Cas was saying over the phone, none the wiser.

Dean’s heartstrings plucked. He turned his back to the door and ducked his head more to keep the conversation private. He said, “Me too, baby.”

So damn much.

He imagined Cas in the silence that followed: the openness of his expression, the slight smile on his lips and the twinkle in his eyes, the soft lines on his face and tired hunch of his shoulders. Dean twirled his ring again without realizing it.

Then, he remembered Lee outside.

Dean hated lying to Cas. It made his stomach feel fuzzy. But Cas would only bitch at him if he knew he was going out to a club with Lee.

And what else was Dean supposed to do with his time? Wait around for the phone to ring like some lovesick damsel? Cas was gone because he chose to be. He had to know Dean would hang out with his friends while he was away. If he really wanted Dean to stop partying with Lee, he would have stayed. Dean was doing nothing wrong in his book.

But Dean didn’t want to start a fight. It was just easier this way, and what Cas didn’t know wouldn’t kill him.

Forcing his tone to be smooth and casual, he said, “Anyway, you sound beat. Why don’t you get some sleep, huh? Call me again before you leave New Orleans.”

“I will,” Cas said into a yawn. Dean couldn’t help but feel fond over that sound. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“Dream about me,” Dean told him.

It was met with, “Always.”

Dean lingered on the phone for another second before setting it back down on its cradle. Then he rolled his shoulders back, fixed the knot of his tie, and went to the door.

“Finally!” Lee said jovially in lieu of a greeting. “You ready?”

“Always am!” Dean answered, his grin mischievous now.

Lee whooped and walked down the stoop. Dean turned around to flick off the light. While he did, his eyes landed on the phone again. Guilt pounded at the back of his head, but he blinked and shook it away. He closed the door behind him on his way out.

[milkb0nny]

××× Soft Spoken ×××

Dean Winchester x fem!nephilim (OC)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Summary: Sam discovered an unusual store in the city, dragging Dean along him. The shop possessed various books on demons, angels and other supernatural creatures. Sam decided to stay for a moment to search for further information on nephilim. Meanwhile, a woman entered the store, searching for protective sigils and spells. Dean quickly noticed that the voice sounded familiar. Again, the Winchester brothers met the nephilim and her identity crackled little by little.

Note: The next chapter will be more intriguing, as Castiel and Nevaeh will finally meet. I still enjoyed writing this one, covering the relationship between the brothers a little more.

Warnings: none

word count: 2.422

As the first rays of dawn painted the sky, Sam stirred from his slumber to find the motel room devoid of his older brother. Panic momentarily gripped him as he feared that Dean might have been abducted during the night.

However, the sight of a note left on Dean's bed eased his concerns. It appeared that Dean had already left for the repair shop, which did nothing to assuage Sam's reservations about his brother's well-being. Still, Dean was ambiguous and the two of them had to get closer to the current events taking place in this city.

After a swift, warm shower, Sam dressed in his casual attire, donning a brown leather jacket to shield him from the morning chill. As he stepped outside into the crisp morning air, with the sun casting a warm glow, for a moment, he felt like an ordinary man embarking on a typical day. But the door he exited led to a motel room, and his destination was his hunting-obsessed brother. Sighing, he made his way.

The repair shop wasn’t that far from their place, only about ten minutes walking. During his leisurely stroll, Sam recalled the complexities of tracking a celestial being in a city where demons seemed to be the primary source of supernatural disturbances. He was unable to think of another cause of supernatural events, as no ghosts, shapeshifters or witches harmed anybody here.

Upon arriving at the repair shop, Sam found Dean already toiling away on the Impala, refusing assistance from the shop's employees.

Dean's attachment to the car was almost childlike, as if he needed to mend it with his own hands.

While Sam greeted the workers with a much more pleasant demeanor, his brother's irritable side was more apparent.

“Morning, Sammy,” Dean huffed as he heaved the broken engine hood aside. He handled it with care but couldn't hide the pain he felt when seeing his treasured Impala in such a state.

“Good morning,” Sam replied, his gaze filled with concern as he observed Dean's tireless work. “Dean, you know you’re injured, right? Don’t you want to rest a little?” he asked him, worried about his brother's well-being.

Sam's pleas, however, seemed to fall on deaf ears. Dean, his face etched with determination and exhaustion, was quick to respond. “Sam, we don't have time to rest. This car's our lifeline, and we can't afford any downtime,” he insisted, highlighting the urgency of their situation.

While Dean was right about time running fast, he forgot that the injuries might worsen if he keeps up being so stubborn. Sam wanted to complain about this annoying personality trait of his brother, but that opportunity was denied.

Just as Dean was emphasizing the importance of their task, a deep, raspy voice interjected. A rather short yet robust man approached the brothers, his black hat and oil-stained clothes giving away his connection to the repair shop. However, it soon became evident that he was more than just an employee.

“Are you Sam?” he asked, pulling out his phone.

“Uh, yes, I am,” Sam responded with a hint of confusion. He mustered the man up and down, thinking, he was merely an employee of this garage. To his surprise, the stranger revealed himself as the owner of the shop.

“I’d give you and your brother some time here, to get your car fixed. Since you’re friends with Nev, I’ll charge you less. You’re free to use our tools but don’t break them. That'd be expensive,” he cautioned, while fumbling with his car keys.

Sam's inquisitive eyes landed on the man's name tag, which read 'Joshua Garden'—a typically American name.

“Thank you very much,” Sam smiled at him, genuinely grateful for the assistance.

Joshua grinned, inspecting the Impala. The labor of love and devotion that Dean had poured into the car did not go unnoticed by the shop owner. Though he didn't seem too keen on joining their conversation, his offer of help was warmly received. Dean was absorbed in his work, his hands and thoughts fully engaged in fixing their beloved car.

While Joshua inquired about how the car had ended up in such a dire state, Sam quickly crafted a plausible explanation. He mentioned a collision with a tree, caused by a random man who had jumped in front of their car. Joshua, perhaps sensing the awkwardness of the situation, chose not to delve deeper into the matter, accepting Sam's account as fact.

With the pleasantries concluded, Joshua excused himself, leaving the Winchester brothers alone for the time being. Sam took a seat on some nearby wheels, his eyes wandering aimlessly over the shops and houses on the other side of the street.

His eyes wandered through the various faces sitting in the cozy cafés, examined the various signs across doors and windows: Holly's Book Store, 24/7 Nightclub, Occult Shop, Betty's Flower Shop. His attention was abruptly seized by a tiny sign hanging from a dark wooden door. An Occult Shop? The existence of such a store in this seemingly ordinary city piqued his curiosity.

“Dean, do you see that shop there, next to the restaurant?”

Raising his head, Dean scanned the area until he spotted the shop his brother had mentioned. The small store appeared as bewildering to Dean as it did to Sam.

Nevertheless, whenever the two hunters stumbled upon such unique shops, they took the time to explore them in the hope of finding new information about supernatural creatures. Sometimes their visits yielded valuable knowledge and weapons against specific monsters, while other times they discovered nothing more than tourist traps.

Dean set aside his tools when his brother proposed taking a stroll through the shop. Although Dean wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea, he agreed, acknowledging that his primary job was hunting monsters, not repairing cars. Perhaps they could use some assistance from the shop's employees.

“Yeah, I’ll take a break,” Dean conceded, and indicating that they should visit the shop owner. The brothers crossed the fairly busy street and entered the store through its old, creaky wooden door

The interior featured old shelves lined with books, offering a wealth of knowledge about witchcraft, the history of magic, crystals, and emanating a distinct, earthy scent. The shop owner, an elderly man who resembled a kindly college history professor, seemed to blend seamlessly with the ambiance of the store as if he had spent his entire life there. His friendly face welcomed the brothers but didn't immediately overwhelm them with his knowledge. Sam got the impression that the shop owner simply enjoyed the quiet appreciation of his wares, and the brothers followed suit.

Both stood behind a tall shelf filled with several books about demons and angels. Sam discovered a book detailing the history of archangels, covering aspects from the Bible and other religions, which he hoped might contain valuable information.

Suddenly, the door opened once more, and a soft chime echoed through the shop.

“Excuse me. Do you perhaps have any information on protective sigils and symbols against demons or angels? I've been…,” a soft voice hesitated, a voice familiar to the Winchester brothers, “researching some things again, and I could use some guidance.”

Dean surreptitiously peered around the corner, confirming his suspicions: the gentle voice belonged to Nevaeh, who was attired in her usual elegant fashion, albeit slightly more comfortable than her typical style.

“Welcome Nevaeh. I believe I have something that interests you, my dear. You might find what you're looking for in this ancient grimoire over here. It contains knowledge of various protective sigils and their applications.” he pointed to a thick, black book nestled in the far corner of the shop.

Nevaeh nodded appreciatively and replied, “Thank you so much.”

She reached for the book and began flipping through its delicate pages. Most of the sigils were already familiar to her, given her meticulous study. However, she wondered if there were new methods of protection she had yet to discover.

Dean, who had overheard the brief exchange, leaned over to Sam, who was deeply engrossed in the book, oblivious to the unfolding situation.

“Sam, did you hear that? Nevaeh’s asking about protective symbols. That's gotta be related to the nephilim,” he expressed quietly, gaining Sam’s attention.

“Yeah, uhm, alright. Then let's see what she knows,” Sam replied calmly.

He closed the book and placed it back in its original spot. Scanning the shop, he found Nevaeh sitting in an old chair, reading various pages. Dean, with a quiet admiration, approached her first.

“Hey there,” he greeted her, offering a friendly tone. Her serious expression gave way to a welcoming one, her hazel eyes now fully focused on the Winchesters.

“Oh, I didn’t expect to meet you here,” she said somewhat shyly, a bit intimidated by their presence. Nevaeh couldn't help but notice that whenever she encountered the brothers, something supernatural always seemed to be afoot. And here they were once more, in an Occult Shop.

Sam noticed her hesitation, trying to break her social resistance a little, “We overheard your question about protective sigils. We've been looking into something related to that as well,” Sam gently explained.

Nevaeh, still somewhat taken aback, inquired, “Oh, uh - So you’re saying that you’re actually into this stuff? That’s unusual. What are you looking for?”

Sam glanced back at Dean, who nodded his approval to share the true purpose of their presence in Rock Springs. While the Winchesters typically kept their hunting endeavors a secret from civilians, they believed Nevaeh could hold the key they needed.

Sam answered, “We're researching some supernatural occurrences here like unexplained events, strange symbols, that sort of thing.”

Dean chimed in, stepping a little away to create space for Nevaeh to feel comfortable in. In all honesty, the woman looked slightly frightened.

“We noticed that there is a lot of demonic activities happening here… And to be honest, this is kinda how we got into this accident yesterday.”

Nevaeh nodded, slowly closing the book and cradling it in her lap. She nervously adjusted her posture. “Wow uhm, so you’re hunters? That explains a lot.”

Sam expressed his genuine guilt,“I’m sorry we kinda lied to you, Nevaeh.”

She offered an awkward smile and replied, “No, no. I get it, it’s just not something… everyone does.”

Although Nevaeh appeared outwardly calm and composed, underneath her poised demeanor, she was in turmoil. She was silently screaming inside her own mind.

Nevaeh had unwillingly stumbled into an unfortunate situation, dealing with hunters whose prey was the very same demons she had been fleeing. Her emotions raced, and she felt lost, trapped in a sea of confusion. She questioned herself, wondering why she couldn't escape from the grip of these supernatural happenings. While she had distanced herself from her father, she couldn't help but contemplate whether he had motives other than exploiting her unique abilities. Maybe her father also loved his daughter and not only God.

“So, what do you want from me again?” She asked again.

Dean smiled, attempting to build a semblance of trust between them. “Is there any chance you know stuff about… a nephilim?

Nevaeh raised her eyebrows and averted her gaze, unsure about revealing her knowledge or her true nature, “Are you hunting one?”

“No, no—,” Sam interjected, seeking to clarify, “We’re trying to track it down, as it attracts so many demons. You know, before anyone dies because of the demons.”

A critical expression laced over her face, “Sure, but what should a nephilim do about that? It doesn’t need demons to guide over them or something. Such a creature is powerful,” she responded, growing increasingly annoyed as she indirectly referred to herself. She resented addressing her own kind as "it," feeling dehumanized and isolated.

“We don't fully understand the connection between demons and nephilim,” Sam clarified, but his explanation only seemed to heighten Nevaeh's suspicion. Her body language became defensive, signaling her growing discomfort.

“Let’s say you do catch it, then what?” she pressed.

Dean, sensing the urgency of their mission, cleared his throat and answered, “Well, we happen to be acquainted with an angel-“

Sam interjected, giving Dean a stern look, "You can't just tell her!"

“Yes, I can. you know how crucial this is,” Dean’s gaze headed back to the striking eyes of Nevaeh, who fumbled with her fingernails, “Look, there's an angel who is currently in a conflict with Heaven. Lucifer has been set free and is possibly attempting to exterminate humankind. We don't want to harm the nephilim, but we're hoping it can assist us in putting Lucifer back in his cage.”

With the brief yet informative explanation, Nevaeh visibly relaxed and gestured that she was ready to leave. The two men followed her, and as they walked back to the repair shop, a heavy silence enveloped them.

Nevaeh utilized this quiet interlude to ponder the brothers' request. She had no intention of revealing her true nature, as she held deep reservations about the Winchesters and their angelic ally, suspecting the angel might be deceptive.

However, she couldn't simply stand by and let her father unleash unspeakable horrors upon the world. The newfound information on the goals of Lucifer let her previous hope totally vanish, only bringing her rage to cook more.

Before they entered the garage, she stopped and turned to face the towering men, her expression one of distrust and concern.

“Okay. Then, you tell me all you know about Lucifer’s wrongdoings and I’ll research the nephilim for you, and I’ll accompany you both after your car was fixed. I have my personal reasons to help you,” she declared, making her intentions abundantly clear.

“Thank you so much, but you don’t have to come along,” Sam responded with a tone of care. Nevaeh shook her head firmly, her disagreement evident.

“Either this way or no way. Call me when you decided.” Her harsh voice said, before she entered the repair shop, only to pay the bills for the towing service and have a short chat with Joshua. Dean watched her silhouette as she went about her business.

He chuckled, his interest piqued, “I've got to admit, I'm intrigued. A woman who's not afraid to take charge? I'm all ears’.”

“Get a grip, Dean. Let's focus on fixing the car, and I'll take care of getting us some phones,” Sam suggested, breaking the somewhat odd atmosphere that lingered after their conversation.

The younger Winchester couldn’t help but question why Nevaeh was involved in all of this again and again. Though the answer still floated in the future.

[kimhyeon]

taken

Timeline: 2024 April 13, Saturday, late evening. Location: Somewhere in Tokyo. Mood: Worried, scared, angry, confused… Attire: See this post. With: @ambxxguous

Hyeon was having fun, bar and club hopping with Sammy until they met a group of Korean men who immediately approached them and wanted to hang out with them. Hyeon wasn't feeling it at first but Sammy, like the social butterfly that she is, assured him that it was okay and that they needed to let loose and have more fun. Besides, she said, when was the last time he got laid? Not that he was planning to do anything like that tonight but he didn't want to be a party pooper especially when Sam was having fun. It's been a while since they went on a trip together and after all that stress he had to deal with back home, he told himself he was going with the flow tonight. He decided to take it easy with the drinks; one of them have to be sober so they get back to their hotel room... But one of the men already had their tongue down Sammy's throat. He tried to stop it from happening but Sam was a big girl and told her she can take care of herself and that it's alright. Until it wasn't. It happened so fast; they were on the dancefloor and now in a private room at the club, having more drinks. He was aware how much Sammy had been drinking and for what Sammy could take, his friend got drunk way too quick. He started feeling suspicious but he was met with some aggression. It was sort of a joke at first but eventually, he realized something was wrong. He refused the drink they were offering him and tried to get Sammy up but there were four them and just him and Sammy - Still, he tried his best to get out of the situation but violently stopped and pinned against the couch. Is this really happening?? He thought as he struggled; meanwhile, the door to the room opened and a couple of men in suits swat the other men like they were flies. He was so confused but they looked like they were helping him and Sam. He went to Sam right away who was now passed out. He picked up her friend and tried to drag her out of the room while things were getting more physical. One of the men guided him with Sam and led them outside and into a car. Big mistake, he thought to himself as he realized he got them in one tight situation to another. No matter how much he asked and plead, he got no response and was taken to some private home. At least he knows they're still in Tokyo. They were guided inside, well mostly him because one of the men carried Sam. He protested when they took Sam to another room but no one cared to say or explain anything. Are they being kidnapped??? When the door to the room he was in opened, he right away said, "If you want money you're out of luck, buddy. You kidnapped the wrong people!"

[phantomss-pain]

Charlie Emily and Michael Afton timeline of their relationship. This is purely a AU where Charlie lives and the two end up together.

Age 1-8

The two are very good friends when they are younger and were inseparable along with Charlie’s brother Sammy. Henry, Hannah (Charlie’s mother) and Clair would often joke that Charlie and Michael would end up together which the two kids would just say no to.

Age 10-13

This is when the two start drifting apart. Mostly due to Michael becoming a loner because of William’s neglect. Though Charlie tries to keep Michael close to her but Michael pushes her away. On Michael’s 13th birthday the pair are alone and Charlie tries to get Michael to talk to her but it ends up with Michael yelling at her and telling her to fuck off. This breaks Charlie’s heart and the two don’t speak for a while because of it.

Age 13-14

Michael is in his bully Afton phase and gets a reputation of being a dickhead to everyone with his three friends, Jeremy, Mick and Nicole. The four become the biggest bullies in the school. Meanwhile Charlie gets her own friend group being Marla, Jessica, John, Carlton and Sammy. Though Charlie’s friend group constantly bad mouths Michael Charlie is the only one who defends him by saying that he is just confused with himself. Though when she catches Michael and Nicole kissing in the pizzeria one time she is heartbroken again.

Age 14-15

This is where everything turns for the pair. Nicole, Jeremy and Mick play a prank on Charlie which ends up with her outside Fredbear’s in the alleyway. After a argument with Henry, William sees Charlie and stabs her several times before fleeing the scene. Michael stumbles across the bloody Charlie and gets Henry to call the ambulance which saves her life.

After Charlie tells the police about the attack William gets put on trail and goes to jail. Unfortunately for Charlie apart from the police very few people believe her including Henry. This makes her life at school hell with many people saying she lied about it. Due to the trauma of the event and the stress of everything Charlie becomes selectively mute for a while. However this time Michael tries talking to Charlie but she is normally with Sammy who refuses to let Michael speak to her as he thinks he’s going to bully his twin sister and also believes he started the bullying campaign to his sister.

Because of this Michael is still in his bully Afton phase and is still bullying Evan. The first time Charlie speaks is when Michael and his bully group went to put Evan in Fredbear’s mouth. Seeing this Charlie storms up to Michael and slaps him, swearing at him to stop doing this to his younger brother. Of course due to Michael’s bully group being next to her the four get into a fight while Michael just stares at before breaking it up.

After this Charlie and Michael start talking again which sets Michael back on track on being a good person.

Age 16-18

Michael becomes a lot closer with Charlie and her friend group and mostly drops his old friends apart Nicole. Though some members still don’t like each other. John is the person who clashes heads with Michael the most while Nicole and Charlie clash heads as well.

First year at College.

The friend group goes to the same college and becomes a lot more closer with Charlie and Michael getting even closer than before. This naturally makes the two begin developing crushes on each other. Charlie thanks to Jessica notices that she has a crush on Michael first and is naturally embarrassed and freaks out. Jessica is Charlie’s wingman in this part and keeps Charlie’s crush a secret.

Michael realises it after a night out with Sammy and Carlton where Sammy teases Michael for being the only one out of the three to not have a girlfriend after he broke up with Nicole. Carlton jokes about Michael having a crush on Charlie which is when Michael actually realised it though he doesn’t tell anyone.

Second year of College.

Towards the end of the year Michael asks Charlie out and she agrees. The night ends up with the two in Michael’s dorm snuggled up on the couch. Charlie requests that the two keep their relationship quiet which Michael agrees to though they fail massively as in the first week Jessica finds out though she doesn’t tell anyone.

After college.

The two get a house together and become closer obviously. Though Charlie is too scared to sleep with Michael or show herself nude as she still has scars from the night William stabbed her which makes her self conscious. One night Michael catch’s Charlie in her room crying and the two talk about it which ends up with the two sleeping in the same bed together.

Age 30.

The two become married with Jessica and Carlton being the best man and bridesmaid for the wedding.

Age 32. Charlie and Michael become CEO’s of Fazbear Entertainment and it becomes stronger as it ever has before. Charlie becomes pregnant with their first child Millie.

Age 39.

Charlie and Michael have their second child Gregory.

[moonysbeloved]

Calling him Sammy - Sam Winchester x Reader

(WARNING - alcohol mention paired with weak tolerance and drunken shenanigans)

“Dean I’m not gonna say it he’ll get upset” you say to Dean, sitting in the motel room you’re sharing with the brothers. “He won’t care, he likes you y/n he would probably be happy that you call him Sammy!” Dean replies. You two have been arguing about this for days, he is convinced that his brother, Sam, likes you and you’re convinced that he does not. Sure you like him, and Dean knows this because he is a thieving bastard who went through your phone messages, but there’s no way he could like you back! “I don’t want to ruin our friendship or make things weird or make whatever bad thing that could happen, happen.” You say, and just as Deans about to make some comment back the door to the motel opens and in comes Sam. “Hey you two!” He says as he walks in with takeout. “Hey Sam!” You say, happy to see him, and to have that conversation over. Dean just nods and smiles, turning to glare at you for a moment. You guys eat the takeout and put on a movie. Later when you’re done, Dean says he’s gonna go to the bar and invites you two to come with him. “Sure! I mean if you want to” Sam says as he turns to you. “Yea, why not!” You say as you get up to get your bag ready.

You are 3 beers in and are getting tipsy already, meanwhile sam is still a fully functioning person sitting across from you. Dean is off who knows where most likely trying to get some chicks number. “You know what, fuck it” you say, starting to slur your words. Sam looks at you confused, and you continue, “Sammy, do you like me?” You ask as serious sounding as you can considering you sound like you’ve been drinking since morning. He smiles wide, “y/n I think you’ve drank too much” he says with a bit of laughter. You start getting confused and upset, “I have not! Dean said you liked me, do you?” You say, trying to sound serious again. He just looks down and then back up to you with the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen plastered to his face, “I do like you y/n, and I’m also gonna take you back to the motel because you called me Sammy and that is how I know you have definitely drank too much” he finishes the sentence with laughter as he gets up and comes over to your side of the table, handing you his hand. You take it and he pulls you up, “lets go find Dean and tell him we’ll meet him at the motel” he says as he walks you over to the counter.

The next morning you wake up with a pounding headache and a pit in your stomach. “Oh god what did I do last night” you groan as you pull yourself out of bed. Dean and Sam are already up which you don’t notice until all of the sudden Dean says “I can’t believe you actually called him Sammy!”. “What are you talking about?” You say confused as you sit at the table with the two of them. “You called me sammy and asked if I liked you last night” sam said to you, a little red in his cheeks. His red cheeks are nothing compared to yours however as you look shocked, “IM SO SORRY OH MY GOD” you say very loudly. Sam and Dean start laughing, “it’s ok y/n, I’m guessing you don’t remember what I said last night anyways” Sam says. You shake your head, looking panicked, bracing yourself for the im sorry I don’t feel the same way monologue, only to be met with a kiss. It was short, but you could feel the smile creeping onto his lips while yours were together. When he pulled away you were somehow even more red. “I don’t know why you would be so worried anyways, I mean that’s not the first time you called me Sammy you know” Sam said. “What do you mean?” You asked, “I don’t recall ever calling you that before..” you said. “Well, you kinda talk in your sleep..” Sam said with a wide smirk on his face. Dean burst out laughing once your face showed your reaction. “WHY DO YOU THINK I KNEW HED BE SO OK WITH IT!?” Dean said practically wheezing. You were shocked, “how often did I do it?” You ask. “Often.” Sam said plainly with a smile on his face. You looked horrified to say the least. “By the way, you’re allowed to call me Sammy” Sam started, “but only if I can call you my love” he finished with a smirk. You turned red and nodded, “sounds good with me, Sammy.” You said.