#put Dean in the time out chair and make him watch them fuck

[alulangel]

not me writing unhinged filthy Dean x Cas x Meg smut, with mirrors, jealousy, Meg as dean’s reflection and the working title is “when will my reflection show (who I’m inside)”

It’s a pun, do you get it, in Cas pov he—[gunshots]

[legalmente-loca]

Wet Dreams

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: Dean dreams of you... And pie.

Word Count: 1,370

Tags/Warnings: +18, smut, food play.

Dean found himself sitting on a couch in the middle of a room in which the colors of the walls didn’t matter because in front of him he had you.

You were naked, your visible skin stood out and he could already feel its softness on his fingertips. He looked you up and down slowly, with interest. But he noticed that in front of each of your breasts and your pussy was a portion of cherry pie. He also didn’t care that it didn’t make sense because, again, it was about you, naked.

“Hey, beautiful.” His eyes never left your body and your exposed skin, clearly enjoying the view.

You smiled, one of those smiles that lights up the room, that cheers up the saddest person or makes flowers bloom in the desert, just how Dean would describe it. It was at that moment that he noticed that you had both hands behind your back, hiding something as you walked towards him.

“I did something to you.” You pulled out a peach pie, placing it in front of Dean, a portion already cut.

“Oh, wow.” He said with emotion. “Did you do this for me?

He reached out to grab the slice, but before he could even touch it, you slapped his hand and grabbed the slice before bringing it to his lips.

“Come on, have a bite.” You murmured seductively.

He took a bite, licking the tips of your fingers in the process. He chewed under your careful observation and you ran your hands up and down his arms. The pie seemed to have disappeared as if by magic.

“Now, I have other pies you can eat.” You smiled sideways as you brought a finger under his chin.

Dean raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down.

“I’m going to devour them, honey.”

He kept his hands on the armrests, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dying to touch you. You sat astride him, running your hands over his chest, which was bare. But now that he saw better, he was all naked. His cock was getting harder by the second, rising between them, and the chair he was sitting on became a bed.

You bit your bottom lip mischievously and gave him a push, causing him to lie down on the bed, the springs making noise under the sudden movement.

“Do you want me, Dean?”

“Of course I want you, darling.” He murmured without even thinking, moving his hands to your hips.

You brought your face closer to his, Dean looking down briefly at your lips. You weren’t wearing lipstick, but they were red as cherries. He could imagine himself nibbling on them endlessly to see how red they could get.

“I want you too.” You whispered before closing the space between the two of you and kissing him.

He took the opportunity to feel you with his hands, running them along your lower back and down your legs again, your skin being as soft and perfect as he knew it would be.

The kiss was passionate, almost desperate as you ran your hands down his arms. Dean moved his mouth away and then placed it on your neck, lightly nibbling and licking your skin as if you were a human pie.

“God, you’re so good, Dean.” You moaned, placing one hand on his chest while you moved the other to his member, vaguely stroking it. "So good."

He moaned lowly, moving his hands down to your ass and giving it a squeeze.

“Yes, come on, honey, be a good girl and put it in.”

You stood up slightly, lining him up towards your center. Dean noticed how the pie that rested in front of your pussy had a hole for his cock and watched in wonder as it passed perfectly, entering you slowly to feel each sensation intensely.

“Oh, fuck-” He searched your gaze, moving a hand to the back of your neck. “Yeah, go on, doll, you can do it.”

You sat up fully, letting out a low moan and resting your forehead on his. You quickly settled into a steady, desperate pace, as if you had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

“That’s it, baby.” He groaned, closing his eyes for a moment to enjoy it better.

He moved his hands to your lower back, caressing it with his thumbs as he moved his head away from yours, trailing his lips down your neck to one of your breasts, licking his lips at the pie in front of him and beginning to eat it.

“Oh, God, Dean.” You moaned, closing your eyes and stroking his hair as you continued to lean forward, practically bouncing on him.

But he continued eating, revealing your breast with each bite taken. His mouth was stained with remains of the pie just like your skin, the cherry around his mouth as he sank into you. Dean just couldn’t take it, he needed everything from you.

The moans of both filled the room plus the sounds that came from the union of their bodies. The touch of the cake around its base and the comforting warmth from your insides were enough to bring him closer to the limit much sooner than desired.

“Dean, Dean, Dean…” you repeated over and over again.

“Baby…” Starting to move his hips upwards and hugging you tighter as he let out a grunt.

“Dean… Dean… Hey, Dean!”

Dean raised his head suddenly, making you jump and moving your hand away from his shoulder that you were moving.

“Are you OK?” You asked, watching him carefully.

He looked around, realizing that he was in the library, sitting. He looked at himself and, unfortunately, he had clothes on. Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.

“I…” he returned his gaze to you and did not let the disappointment show on his face when he noticed that you were dressed. “Yes, I… I just closed my eyes for a moment.”

One side of his face still had the mark of his arm from sleeping on it and he could obviously feel that he was rock hard under his jeans. He shifted slightly in discomfort.

You had taken off your headphones to wake him up and Dean could hear the low sound of the music. Cherry Pie. A song that he himself had recommended to you some time ago, and he felt a tingle in his lower abdomen at the memory of the dream.

“Sure you’re okay?” You wanted to make sure. “You look a little… Taken aback.”

“I-I’m great.” He tried to smile and gave you a thumbs up.

“Okay…” You nodded your head slowly and sighed. “Anyway, I wanted to let you know that I did something for you.”

“Oh, yeah? For me?”

“Of course. I made you a pie.” You smiled.

Dean choked on his own saliva at that point and started coughing.

“Well, I think that’s a bit of an exaggerated reaction, don’t you think?” You tried to laugh, but something about his attitude was strange to you.

He cleared his throat and took a few moments to breathe before returning his attention to you.

“A pie.”

“Yep, a pie.”

“Like… A pie, pie?”

“As the only kind of pie that my knowledge reaches.” You raised an eyebrow. You didn’t know what was happening to him, maybe he had had a nightmare.

He nodded and ran a hand through his hair.

“Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll go in a moment.”

You stared at him carefully for a few seconds before nodding your head.

“I’ll be waiting for you.” You turned to leave.

“By the way, not that it matters, but… What flavor of pie is it?”

You turned around to look at him.

“Cherry.”

“Oh…”

“Come on, hurry up before it gets cold.” You left the room.

“Yes, would never miss it.” He muttered to himself.

He ran his hands over his face and shook his head.

“Son of a bitch…”

If Dean concentrated hard enough, he could still feel the taste of your pie in his mouth and the feel of your fingers on his lips.

He stood up and stretched, rattling some bones.

“Well… Time to eat.” He rubbed his hands and headed to the kitchen, where you were waiting for him with a smile and the cherry pie in front of you.

“Come on, have a bite.” You said with emotion, but Dean couldn’t stop remembering the dream and that he would do everything possible to replicate it.

Dean Winchester One Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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[latenightdaydreams]

Tutor (fem)

Loser!König x Bully!Reader

MDNI🔞

Part 2 Part 3

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, bully, oral, p in v, virginity loss

2.3k word count

📖

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König is a loser. He’s a 23-year-old virgin college student who is too scared to talk to women. He would much rather stay home and build Gundam’s, play video games, or work on his schoolwork. In public, he is quiet and timid. He tries to blend in to not be seen. Being a whole 6 '10, he can’t. As a child, he was constantly bullied for his size and being chubby. As an adult, he still gets picked on for being tall and awkward.

You are a part of the problem. A short, curvy, big-breasted bitch; the apple of his eye. König sits in the back of class and watches your hips sway as you walk to your seat. The way your breasts bounce like hentai boobies. His cock grows hard as you bend over, making your cleavage more visible to him. Just as he got lost in a trance, you snap him out of it.

“What are you looking at? Freak!”

Your hands on your hips, a disgusted look on your face. König’s face turns red as he realizes that you’ve caught him in the act. You flip him off and turn to sit. He reaches down to adjust his boner, taking a deep breath and letting out a small sigh.

After class, as everyone stands to pack their bags, he stays seated, looking at his cell phone. He has your Instagram profile opened on his phone, gazing at a bikini picture you posted this summer. You look absolutely perfect in your tiny pink bikini. He has become so lost in your photos; he didn’t realize you were walking past him to leave.

“What the fuck?” A loud laugh breaks out.

König looks up to see that you caught him looking at your profile. He turns off the screen of his phone and clears his throat. Inside his chest, his heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s going to explode from embracement.

“Sorry.” His voice is meek as he avoids eye contact with you.

“Fucking loser.” You scoff while walking away.

This was going to be a long year.

Three months into the school year, you haven’t turned in one assignment yet and have failed the few tests you’ve had. The dean sent you a message telling you that if you don’t raise your grades, you would be at risk of being put on academic probation. You needed a tutor, and fast.

König sits in his dorm room at his desk, working on building Lego set #21348, when he hears a knock at his door. He looks over his shoulder at his door, trying to decide if he wants to deal with people. After a few seconds, he stands to answer the door.

Once he opens the door, his eyes grow wide seeing you standing there. “Oh, h-hey y/n.”

“Hey König.” You smile up at him and push him aside, walking into his room. His room is simple and neat. Robot figures anywhere he can place them and a Lego set on his desk. You walk over and look at the set, König walking up behind you.

“So, what is this? Star Wars?”

König tilts his head confused about how wrong you are. Do you even know what Star Wars is? “Uh, no. Star Wars is a space themed futuristic story…” He could see the lack of interest on your face. “So, why are you here?”

“Geez, you’re a bigger fucking nerd than I thought you were.” You say pushing over a mini figure he has posed on the desk. His mouth hangs open, stopping himself from asking you to not do that. He watches as you turn and take a seat on his desk chair.

You look up at König as he towers over you. “You’re smart, right?”

“I guess.” König rubs the back of his neck feeling bashful.

“Well, I’m failing math, and I need a tutor. The issue is… well, I can’t afford one. So I was wondering if you could tutor me.”

This isn’t what he was expecting, well more of not what he hoped for. “I don’t have time to tutor. Sorry.”

Your smile drops and you stand up. “Too busy? You’re always in here building stupid fucking Legos or robot’s models.”

“Technically Gundam’s are mechs, not robots like a transformer.”

“Wow. Okay.” You sound annoyed and uninterested. “So, are you going to help me or not?”

“I already said I can’t.” His voice gets even more timid.

You’re not use to people saying no to you, especially not pathetic men who worship the ground you walk on. In fact, you hate being told no. How fucking dare he.

“So, you can sit and fucking gawk at me, stalk my social media accounts, but you can’t help me for a few fucking hours?” You push his muscular chest.

He stumbles backwards, actually intimidated by you. Speechless, he doesn’t know what to say. His eyes drop to your breasts as you keep walking to him. Not one thought in his mind other than how hot you look at this exact moment.

“I- I uh, I.”

“What? You forgot how to talk?” You push him once more and he falls back on to his bed. As soon as he does, your eyes drift down to the tent growing in his pants and you laugh. König’s eyes go wide as your hand reaches out, grasping his boner through his sweats; his face burning hot. He looks up at you in a daze.

“Oh, wow. Loser actually has a fat cock.” Your other hand grabs his jaw and forces him to look into your eyes. You lean in and lick from his lips to his nose before moving back and letting go of him.

König’s heart is fluttering in his chest, this feels like a dream. His eyes watch like a hungry dog as you pull your tight fitted shirt, unhooking your bra and tossing it aside. Your hands unbutton your jeans and expose a thin thong that barely covers your fat pussy lips.

“Why are you still dressed?” Your voice shocks him out of his daze.

Quickly, he pulls his shirt off. A ripped muscular body is not what you expected him to have under his baggy clothing. He drops his sweat pants along with his boxers allowing his cock to spring free. König, now nude, stands in front of you frozen. His gaze lingering on your pussy. You’re the first woman he’s seen naked in person.

“Do you have condoms?”

He looks at his bedside table, even though he is well aware he has none. “Um, no. I don’t.”

“I knew you were probably a virgin.” He blushes and looks down when you say this. You walk closer to him. “Are you?”

“Ja, I am.”

“No fucking wonder. Lay down.” You demand in a strict tone.

König jumps like a drill sergeant to yell at him. He quickly gets on his bed and looks at you. His cock twitching with excitement. You climb onto the bed with him, straddling his massive body. His hands instinctively rest on your thighs as you lean in and kiss his lips.

“How about I teach you—” You kiss him in between talking. “How to fuck—” His fingers squeeze your thighs. “And you tutor me?”

Without thinking, König nods his head enthusiastically.

“Good. We will start with math.” You giggle, reaching your hand behind his head to pull the pillows away from behind him.

König looks confused by your comment. Math? Then his eyes go wide as you straddle his face. Your twat lingers above him. He gazes up as if you’ve just shown him God. If he could take your scent and make air fresheners, he would. His cock is upright, erect, waiting to taste you.

“Stick your tongue out, big boy.” You lean forward and place your hands on his chest. One hand reaches forward and jerks his cock.

König sticks his tongue out eagerly, watching your body as you lower yourself onto his face. Your pussy rests on his mouth and nose, hips rocking back and forth on his tongue. His eyes flutter closed as he tastes pussy for the first time. How could he have lived this long without tasting this sweet nectar?

His fingers dig into your thighs as he pulls you down closer to his face. His tongue rapidly laps at your cunt, slurping and drinking your wetness. You moan, eyes closing as you continue to grind; he’s surprisingly skilled.

“You want me to suck your cock?”

“Ja, bitte.” He groans, his sound muffled from you sitting on his face.

Leaning forward, you pull his foreskin down and wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. He lets out a moan, his toes curling. Your hands move in motion with your head as you bob your head up and down on his cock. König moans into your sopping wet cunt. He’s in heaven.

König’s hips thrust forward to match your rhythm. One of his hands moves from your thigh up your body to squeeze your breast before roaming back down. When you pull your mouth away from his cock, he thrust forward even more, craving your friction. You lift yourself up off of him, his hands hold on to your thighs tighter as if trying to keep you on him. Reluctantly, he lets you go; swiping his tongue between your folds once more as you stand.

You move your body to the side of him. He watches you as he licks his lips, trying to savor the taste of you. The heat of your pussy radiates over your cock.

“You’re buying me a Plan B right after this.”

“I will.” His eyes are glued to yours.

Slowly you rock your hips over his cock before grasping it at the base. You look into his eyes as you lower yourself on him.

König’s mouth drops open and he lets out a loud groan. His eyes glued to your tight cunt stretching around his cock. He grabs at the blanket underneath him, squeezing it to the point his knuckles are turning white. He can’t last long in your pussy.

“Mein Gott, you- your pussy—” He can’t form a coherent sentence.

His hands reach out for your breasts as you bounce on him. You have the most incredible pair of tits he has ever seen. He’s always known you were hot, but seeing you like this, not even Aphrodite couldn't compare.

You slap away his hand and lean forward. “Grab my ass and fuck me.”

König nods, having seen this in porn before, he knows what to do. He thinks. His large hands grasp your fat ass and squeeze his fingers into the supple flesh; bending his legs at the knee, he begins to thrust up into you.

As he tries his hardest to not cum, his thrust is slow. He looks at the ceiling as his mind is running 110mph. You grab his jaw again, forcing him to look at you.

“Fuck me. Harder.” You demand of him.

“I don’t…want to hurt you.” He struggles to speak, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes.

“If you don’t fuck me hard, we are done here.”

König would not let his crush on the last two semesters just walk away, especially not since he got you to this part. Guys like him don’t get women like you. He grabs you and rolls you over on to the bed, slamming you down a little harder than he meant to. The look on your face tells him you didn’t mind one bit.

He grabs your hips and pulls you to him, slipping his cock back inside of your tight little cunny. You moan out as your hands grab his arms. König doesn’t hold back as he restricts your movements underneath him using his massive size. He pulls his hips back far before slamming down into you. His enormous cock being rammed deep inside of you, deeper than you can take.

“Oh, fuck! Like that you fucking freak!” You moan out.

König lets out a small growl as he ravishes your body, ruining your cunt for any other man. His mouth clashes into yours, desperate for your kiss. A trail of his hot wet kisses leaving from your mouth down to your breasts. He bites the skin around your areola, marking you as his for your stupid fuck buddy to see.

You push him back. “Rub my clit.” You reach for his hand and guide it so he knows where to touch. “Do small circles.”

He nods and begins to rub slowly at first until you yell at him to go faster. König lets out a surprised moan as he feels you tightening around him. Is this what a female orgasm is? Fuck yes! His hips faster, his rhythm slightly off as he tries to also focus on your clit.

“Don’t stop.” König watches in amazement as you arch your back and tremble. Your pussy becomes so wet it's splashing as he rubs it. He feels on top of the world.

Instantly, a loud pitched moan leaves his throat. A stupid smile crosses his face as he eyes go slightly crossed. He cums deep inside of your pussy. As his body naturally falls forward you push him off to the side.

König lays on his back, on cloud nine. His pale eyes study your face and your body as you lay beside him.

“So,” your breathing is still heavy, “I’ll come by tomorrow and we can start working on my tutoring.”

He nods, willing to give you anything you ask for at this point. Mentally, he is not over the fact he just ate and fucked y/n, you, your pussy.

You stand from the bed and begin to get dressed. Your cunt hurts, König fucks like a mating bull. He’s a good fuck though, there is not denying that.

“Oh, and if you tell anyone, you’re dead.”

“I understand.” König watches you as you get dressed with hearts in his eyes. “What are we?”

You stop and look at him for a moment before letting out a small laugh and shaking your head.

Part 2 Part 3

[ninii-winchester]

Dusk till Dawn

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 1.7k

Warnings : angst, violence demon dean, language, illusions to sex (nothing explicit)

Part 2 to I don’t wanna live forever

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

But you'll never be alone

I'll be with you from dusk till dawn

Baby, I'm right here

Sam had finally managed to track down Dean and has brought him back to the Bunker. Y/n wasn't scared of him but she wasn't excited to see him again in his demon form either. Sam had Dean cuffed inside the dungeon and she could hear him scream every time Sam injected him with human blood.

She knew she'd have to face him sooner or later, so two hours later, she decided that she'd go see him. She entered the dungeon and she watched as Dean thrashed around in the chair he was tied to, he spewed hurtful words at Sam and the latter retorted by telling him this isn't his brother speaking.

Dean eyes landed on Y/n as she walked inside, her arm still in a cast. He turned his eyes black before turning them back to normal. He threw her a smirk and she visibly tensed. She knew he was tied and Sam was in the room as well but she couldn't help but shrink under his gaze.

"How's the arm?" He mocked.

"I'll live." She replied curtly. He laughed evilly before speaking again.

"Hm I wonder why Crowley saved you, were you fucking him? I mean you do look like a skank.." She felt herself tear up at his harsh comment, this isn't my Dean she kept repeating to herself. "I mean I wouldn't put it past you-"

"Dean shut up." Sam intervened.

"What you fucking her too?" Dean cackled. "Cmon Sammy you can do bette- argh" Dean growled loudly as Sam interrupted him by giving him another shot. He groaned breathing heavily.

Y/n felt her heart thudding inside her chest, she wondered if part of Dean actually thought all those things, how long can she hold on and believe that this is the demon talking. Sam noticed the apprehension on her face and pulled her outside.

"Hey..you can't let him get to you, that's not Dean." Sam said holding her good arm. "He's trying to rile you up, don't fall for it."

"Yeah..!" She nodded her head, seemingly out of it. "Yeah I know Sam." She snapped herself back.

Four hours later Y/n was in the kitchen when she heard it, Dean's voice. But it wasn't him groaning or screaming, it wasn't coming from the dungeon either. It was closer. She ducked and ran out of the kitchen hoping to find Sam before Dean finds either of them.

Dean continued to call out for Sam, asking him to come out and talk with his big brother, his voice was scaring the wits out of her and she hoped she doesn't run into him. But just because she's so lucky she rounded a corner and saw him. Dean stood right in front on her with a hammer in his hand.

"Well hello there, sweetheart." Dean smirked. She backed away and he took a step forward. Suddenly the power in the bunker went out and the emergency lights were turned on. "That's smart little brother, locking the place down." Dean yelled. "But you see I don't want to leave." Well at least now she knows where's Sam. But the control room is a bit too far from where they were and she's on her own here. "You're gonna have to wait for me, Sammy. I gotta finish what I couldn't last time."

Y/n knew there's no point running, so she did what she thought was the best. She moved towards him. Dean glared at her before grabbing her hair and slamming her in the wall. A smirk plastered on her face. "You can go ahead and kill me, but just so you know, Sam's gonna cure you. He won't stop until he does." She prayed that Sam finds them soom or it's gonna get ugly pretty fast.

"I can see right through your brave girl act." Dean sneered. "This is gonna be so much fun." Dean grabbed her injured arm and pressed hard making her scream.

Dean let her go and held the hammer with both his hands, he raised it above his head and Y/n braced herself for the impact but it never came. Sam had tackled Dean to the ground, the hammer falling from his hands. Dean struggled in Sam's hold. "Let me go." He growled slamming Sam into the ground. Thankfully Castiel appeared and caught hold of Dean.

The two men hauled him back to the dungeon and Sam completed the ritual. Dean was finally back. Sam threw holy water on his face and the lack of sizzling flesh brought relief to Sam and Cas' face. "Welcome back, Dean." Sam said with smile. Dean's face flashed an array of expressions, but he was happy to be back.

While Sam helped Dean get back to his room, Cas found Y/n in the same hallway they had left her in.

"Cas?" She groaned holding her arm, slumped against the wall. Castiel kneeled in front of her, he placed his hand on her arm and eradicated the pain. "Cas, Dean-"

"He's not a demon anymore." Castiel informed and she sighed in relief. He nodded and helped her up. The two of them went to the library. Sam was hyper excited that his brother was back and he told them he's going to bring his brother lots of cheeseburgers now that's he's hungry again. Y/n's smiled dropped when Cas mentioned the elephant in the room, that Dean still has the mark.

"One thing at a time Cas." She replied before leaving the library.

Cause I wanna touch you, baby

And I wanna feel you too

I wanna see the sun rise on your sins

Just me and you

To think everything would go back to normal after Dean was cured was wishful thinking on Y/n's part. She hasn't seen him ever since he turned back. He's been avoiding her. She knows he feels guilty and is beating himself up for whatever happened but she needs him to know that she forgave him because it wasn't him.

Y/n was in the kitchen, her hand wrapped around a steaming cup coffee. She was lost in thought but she heard the sound of footsteps approaching the kitchen. Dean entered the kitchen, stopping mid way as he noticed her figure and turned back to leave. But her voice stopped him.

"How long are you planning to continue this?" She asked, her voice filled with hurt. He didn't turn back or answer her question. She has had enough of him ignoring, she moved to grab his hand and turn him towards her. "Talk to me, please." A tear dropped down her cheek as she looked at his face while he looked at the ground avoiding eye contact.

Dean gently shrugged her hand off his arm, he wanted to reach out and wipe that tear off her face but he was scared to touch her, afraid to hurt her or worse break her. He has already done enough and he'd be damned if he does it again. She lifted his chin with her fingers to make him look at her and he relished in her touch. Her face was healed but a few scratches were visible and he felt nauseous knowing he did that.

"I hurt you." Dean spoke for the first time. She shook her head.

"It wasn't you."

"It was me, those were my hands on you, I hurt you physically and emotionally. I said those vile words to you, about you. It was me. But none of it was true, you’re not- " He couldn’t continue further. A few tears escaped his eyes.

"I forgive you, Dean. I love you." She said cupping his cheek and wiping his tears.

"You shouldn't." He whispered.

"The only time you’re allowed to tell me what to do is, in bed." She teased hoping he'd loosen up a bit but he didn't. His gaze lingered on the cast on her arm. "Dean look at me." She said with authority and smiled when he obeyed. "Can you answer some questions for me?" He nodded. "Do you blame Sam for what happened to Kevin?" She asked softly.

"No. It was Gadreel. Not Sam." Dean replied in an instant.

"Exactly. If you don't blame Sam for Kevin, why can't you stop blaming yourself."

"That's different." He shook his head.

"Do you love me, Dean?" Dean looked offended she'd even asked but he replied without a beat.

"With everything I have. I love you so much."

"Can you forgive yourself for me, then?" Dean stayed silent "please, baby."

"I don't wanna hurt you again." He confessed.

"You won't. I know you're only capable of loving me unless you're being controlled by some stupid curse. And I know you tried to fight it."

"I did." He placed his hands on her waist and she sighed in relief hugging him as tightly as she could with one arm. "I really did."

Light it up, on the run

Let's make love tonight

Make it up, fall in love, try

She pressed her lips to his and he kissed back ever so softly. His lips moved against her with fervour. He wanted to breath her in, imprint her on his mind. He snaked his hand around her waist and picked her up. And she wrapped her legs around him, not wanting to break the kiss. She needed him as much as he needed her. He pressed kisses to her face and jaw, he sat her on the table and stood between her legs.

"I'm sorry." He dropped feather light kisses to her neck. "I'm so sorry." He held onto her tightly as if she'd disappear if he let go.

"I'm right here baby." She assured him. "I love you."

"I love you, sweetheart." Dean made love to her, with his soft and gentle touches, he made it up to her, his actions showed her how much he loved her, how sorry he was. As their breathing slowed, they held each other close, savouring the moment. In the silence that followed, they knew they were far from okay but they would be okay together.

Tags:

@s0urw00lf @spnfamily-j2 @deangirl96

[shanastoryteller]

happy Halloween! something mdzs bruised fruit/ mdzs female!wwx/ spn wincest pls??

Sam is bleeding way too much and if Dean isn't careful, he's going to put them in a ditch before he can get them to the emergency room. "Will you slow down?"

He figures if the last thing he ever sees is the underside of Dean's chin, that's not the worst thing. The last time he died, he got to see Dean in his entirety, got to feel his arms around him instead of just his head against his brother's thigh while he breaks every traffic law ever invented, and a few that after tonight they'll pass through just for him. But beggars can't be choosers.

"Shut up," Dean says, one hand on the wheel and the other pressed to the bandage on Sam's side, like he doesn't think Sam's doing a good enough job of putting pressure on it. He's right, unfortunately.

The pain is dulling, which is a bad sign. Almost as bad as the fact he can't quite keep his brother in focus. He doesn't want to die. He still has to save his brother from his stupid deal. Then again, maybe this is how he does it. If he dies before the year is done, that could be the end of it. No alive little brother, no Dean going to hell. A fair enough trade as far as he's concerned.

if he could be certain it really would work that way, he'd take care of it himself. Gladly. He just doesn't think they'll be that lucky. Maybe it'll work as long as he's not the one to do it. Like an insurance payout.

Fuck, he hopes so. He doesn't want to leave his brother to burn.

"Do y'want my last words?" he asks, internally wincing at the way his words are slurring. Bad, bad sign.

"No!" Dean snaps, then risks a glance down at him. That's nice. He likes Dean's eyes. And his lips. His face in general, really, although he has particularly fond memories of his lips. "Do you have them prepared?"

"Wasn't prepared last time," he explains, mouth feeling numb. He's pretty sure the words come out sort of mushy. "Wasn't fair. Figured I should think about it."

"Jesus," Dean says, looking at the road again. Probably for the best. "No. You're not dying. Shut up."

He totally is. He knows what it feels like. He means to tell Dean that, but he passes out before he gets the chance.

~

He wakes up cold to the sound of beeping and knows where he is before he pries his eyes open. It's a hospital, as expected, and Dean is slumped in the chair next to his bed, also expected.

That he woke up at all wasn't expected, but it's not like he's complaining.

He watches Dean for a while, because it's not like there's anything better to do, and it's a favorite pastime of his anyway. He's changed his shirt, but he's still got blood on his jeans. There are lines of worry and stress carved into his face even in sleep, and dark circles under his eyes that means this is more succumbing to the inevitable rather than an active choice. Sam's not surprised. Dean's a master of sleeping at bedsides and he's much better at contorting himself into a sort of comfortable position with the furniture he has available when he does it on purpose. He's going to wake up with a crick in his neck that he'll complain about for the next two days at least.

Like he can hear Sam mocking him, his eyes flutter open, blinking twice before he seems to notice Sam watching him. He shoots upright and then his leg buckles and he has to hold onto the side table with a curse. Sam would be concerned except he knows damn well it's just that his leg's fallen asleep in that terrible position he was in, and he's laughing by the time Dean makes it over to him, sitting on the edge of his bed and leaning over him, each of his hands pressed on either side of Sam's head.

"It's not funny," he says, face too pale and eyes too wide.

Sam sobers, offering him a quirk of the lips in apology. It would have been funny a few months ago, but he supposes that was before he died in Dean's arms. There are new rules now. "I'm fine."

He's guessing, but he's pretty sure. He's not hooked up to anything fancy and he's not in the ICU. Blood loss kills, but if they took care of that and nothing important was nicked, they can probably bounce in a day or two.

"Sammy," he says, breathing too quickly. They're close enough to kiss, except if he tries that right now he thinks he's going to get punched.

"Do you want to hear my last words now?" he offers.

Dean closes his eyes. "No. Shut up."

"We really have to work on your vocabulary," he says. "It's not a big deal. I can say them twice."

"How about you just don't die?" he tries, and he clearly means for it to come out as growl but it's closer to a whine. "You can't do this to me, Sammy. Not again."

Yeah, well, passing the nightmare on to him because Dean couldn't deal with it hadn't exactly been his brother's most compassionate move. Now's not the time for that argument, so Sam says, "I love you."

Dean jerks back like he's the one that got punched, but Sam's already fisted his hand in the front of his brother's shirt in preparation for this exact reaction.

"You're a good brother," he continues. "I'm glad I got to spend my life with you."

His face crumples. "Sam."

"The last two are provisional on you not dying on me at the end of the year," he says. "Just so we're clear."

"That's what you would have said? At," he cuts himself off, not even able to say it after all this time.

"At Cold Oak?" he finishes. "Yeah." He shakes his head and Sam tugs him closer. He's not strong enough to actually move him, but Dean leans back into him anyway. Sucker. "They don't have to be last words, you know. They can just be three true things."

"Three true things, huh?" Dean says. Some of the frantic fear has left him, leaving behind something more tender, less painful.

Sam wonders if he'll ever be able to see that look of fear on his brother's face and not think of that moment Dean walked into the shit cabin in the middle of nowhere, of that moment he saw Sam alive again after leaving his corpse rotting on that piece of shit mattress.

He's going to be pissed about Dean selling his soul until the day he dies, but it's not like he doesn't get it.

"Yeah," he says, then tilts his head up and capturing Dean's bottom lip between his teeth, coaxing him into a kiss that's going to set off the heart monitor if they're not careful.

He really hopes Dean used aliases with different last names this time.

[justwhisperingfantasies]

lupo mannaro

Pairing: Dean And Reader

Warnings: Angst. Language. Drinking. Talks of Drug Use. Talks Of Murder. Violence. I think that's it. lmk if i missed any.

Hope you enjoy

Your legs were throbbing, your heart pounding, every muscle in your body ached, but you had to keep running, you had to make it to him. You could see his silhouette, his face hidden by darkness, standing by a black car on the other side of the parking lot. The snarls behind you pumped adrenaline through your veins, get there, come on get there.

You woke as you crashed on the floor. The third night in a row you had the exact same dream, ending the same way. Almost to safety, but from what?

You poured yourself a cup of coffee hoping the caffeine would help. You had been asleep for 7 and a half hours, but it felt you hadn’t slept at all. Who was the man next to the car and why did you know if you got to him, you would be safe. You sipped your coffee as you pondered.

“You look like hell.” Annie said as you sat down at your desk.

“Well thanks.” You retorted. You knew there were bags under your eyes, and you tried your best to get your hair under control this morning, but you were just too tired to care. She didn’t have to point it out though.

“So did you hear?” your eyebrows raised as your ears perked up. Usually when Annie said anything along those lines there was some juicy gossip she just had to share. “In the alley behind the office,” she paused for dramatic effect. You rolled your eyes. “They found 2 teenage girls dead.”

“Annie that’s not even remotely funny.”

“I’m not making this up. Google it.”

You spun your chair around to your computer and clicked on the search engine. Your old keyboard clicked as you typed. You tapped the enter key and the web screen showed the results “Two teens found dead in alley behind Bradley Incorporated” You read the headline out loud. Your eyes scanned the words reading the rest of the article inside your head. Police have no leads and no suspects as of yet.

“I heard their hearts were cut out.” Annie’s words pulled your attention from the screen.

“Their hearts?”

“Yea…”

You tried to keep your mind on your work, but something kept pulling your mind back to those girls. So young. Probably so scared. Just thinking about it sends waves of nausea through your stomach. Why would anyone want to hurt them. And why in God’s name would they cut their hearts out.

Somehow you managed to get work done on time. Shiver ran up your spine as you walked out onto the street. You put your hand out for taxi. No way, you were walking home with a lunatic on the loose.

You poured yourself a glass of wine after dinner. Maybe this would help you get some sleep tonight.

The dream started out the same way. Dark, cold, you on one side of the parking lot. Him on the other just standing by that black car. Hearing the growling you start to run. Your legs pumping as hard as you could make them, but you didn’t feel any closer to your destination. If you could just get to him. If you could just get to his embrace everything would be ok.

A jolt of pain surged through your head as you head hit the corner of your nightstand on the way to the floor. Son of a bitch that hurt. You felt the rising bump on your forehead. Fucking great. You did the best you could do with concealer and foundation, hopefully it wasn’t noticeable

Annie was waiting for you at the door. “What happened to your forehead?!” Great so the makeup didn’t work.

“I fell out of bed.”

“You fell out of bed?!” you nodded. “Right...”

You shrugged. “That’s what happened.”

She took your story.  “So, get this.” Hmm. That phrase was new, but still held the promise of gossip.  “There’s 2 FBI agents here today, questioning everyone in the office.”

“They really think one of us did this?”

“I don’t know. They told Nick it was routine since the girls were found behind our building.”

“I guess that make sense, but I don’t think it was anyone from our company.”

You watched as every one of your coworkers got called up to the office. An overwhelming tide of anxiety washed over you as you sat in anticipation for your turn. Every muscle in your body tensed as the phone on your desk began to ring.

“Yes?”

“Could you come up to the conference room please?”

“Sure, thing boss.”

The butterflies in your stomach got bigger with every step closer. What was wrong with you, there was absolutely no reason for you to be nervous.

You eased your pace and softened your footsteps upon hearing the deep voices drifting from the room. Moving as silently as possible, you positioned yourself next to the door.

“This is the last one.” The deep voice stated. “I don’t know Dean. Maybe this is just some sick sadistic person.”

“Heart ripped out and missing on a full moon? No way in hell that this isn’t a werewolf.”

Werewolf?! His words repeated in your mind. What the hell.

“Where is she?” the huskier voice asked.

“Mr. Bradley said she was on her way.”

“Yea, or she ran out the front do.” He almost walked right into you. “Hi.”

You gave him a half smile. Your heart raced as you stood there, caught red handed ease dropping on their conversation. He motioned for you to step through the door ahead of him.

“Miss [y/l/n] I’m Agent Plant. This is Agent Page.” Your eyebrows furrowed automatically at his words as you walked through the door. You turned around as he looked up “You, ok?”

“Yea. I’ve just heard those names somewhere before. Sorry.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, uh. I don’t know if you are aware, but there was a murder in the alley behind this building the other night. FBI has taken over the investigation.”

"May I take a look at your ID?" You couldn’t put your finger on it, but there was something else in his words. Like he wasn’t telling the truth, but he wasn’t there to do any harm.

“Uh, absolutely.” The one that claimed his name was plant said as they gave each other a look. You held out your hand as they pulled out their badges from their breast pocket. You wanted to see the first names on the badges. “Oh, you wanna... ok.”

“Robert Plant.” You said looking at the green eyes one. He raised his hand and gave an awkward wave. “And Jimmy Page.” You looked at the long-haired one. He smiled as he nodded. You knew they were lying, and you knew where they got the names from. “Hmm. You boys classic rock fans?”  you asked, handing them back their badges.

They looked at each other again. “No. Not really.” The one claiming to be Plant said while shaking his head.

“You sure?” you don’t know what came over you. You just wanted them to admit to their lies and cut the bullshit. First you overheard them talking about fucking werewolves and now they were lying about their names and being FBI. Who the hell were these guys.

The one claiming to be Page cleared his throat now. “Yea. Anyways we need to ask you some questions.”

“Proceed,”

“Ok. Have you noticed any strange behavior from anyone in the office?”

“Can’t say that I have Agent Plant.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Ok lady, if you got something to say just say it.”

“Dea.” Page coughed “Agent Plant. That’s not how we talk to people.”

“It is if they have a piss poor attitude.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have a piss poor attitude if you weren’t lying.”

“You seen the badges. We aren’t lying.”

“Ok. You’re not lying. Continue.”

“Have you seen any strange activity around the building?” Agent Page asked you.

“Like?”

“Gangs. Drug deals. Hookers. Anything that usually doesn’t happen around here.” Agent Plant said with a snarky attitude. Agent Page closed his eyes and sighed.

“Oh, no.”

“What happened to your head?” Agent Plant asked.

“Oh, funny story, I slipped when I was snorting a line in the bathroom. And just bashed my head right into the counter.” You smirked.

Agent Plant rubbed his forehead with his hand before covering his mouth with his fist. “Okay, get out.” he said, his voice barely audible through his hand.

“That’s it?” you asked raising your brows.

“I guess so. Have a good day.” Agent Page told you.

You got up and walked out, standing by the door you heard “That chick is #1 on my list.” You rolled your eyes and walked away.

Thanks to the fake agents it was late before you got your work done for the day. It was dark as you left the building. Great you thought, no cabs in sight. You heard the humming engine of an older muscle car, as you began to walk down the road. You stopped in your tracks as it passed you, It was the same car. The car the man was standing next to in your dream. What the fuck. You started to run, well tried to stupid high heels. The car turned right at red light a couple blocks away. You squinted trying to make out any details of who was in it, but it was too far away. Damnit. You took your heels off and hauled ass. Trying to get around that corner as fast as you could, but it was gone by the time you got there.

What is going on you thought as you twisted the cap off the whiskey bottle and poured some in a glass.

The dream started out the same again. Cold, dark. You in the same spot. Him, standing by the car you saw today. The lighting on him was different. You still couldn’t see his face; you focused on every detail you could see. He was tall, muscular, short cropped hair, a leather jacket maybe. That’s all you got before the growling started.

He raised his hands to his mouth and yelled “Baby! Wake up!” in a familiar voice.

You took off. You pushed your feet as hard as you could onto the pavement. Just get there, just get there. The snarls behind you got closer.

“Come On Baby!!” The voice said again.

Your face bounces off the floor wake you up again.

You saw Annie waiting by the door for you. “Hey. The cute agents are back.” Fake agents you thought.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yea. And they are asking about you.”

“Excuse me?”  You sat your things down at your desk and marched toward the stairs.

“Whoa.” Mr. Bradley was standing outside the conference room. “You can’t go in there right now.”

“Well then I’ll wait.”

“You don’t know how long they are gonna take.”

“If they are questioning people about me, I want to know why.”

The door opened and Janet walked out. You could feel the judgement through her eyes. Agent Plant poked his head out of the door. “Come on in Ms. [y/l/n]. Mr. Bradley you’re dismissed.”

As you walked into the room the courage drained from your body. They were both over 6 feet, both very intimidating. You waited for him to close the door.

“What the hell is going on? You’re questioning people about me?”

“Well with your attitude and disrespect you became a suspect.” Agent Plant told you.

“Drop the act. You’re not FBI. I told you I snorted cocaine yesterday, you did nothing. Robert Plant is the lead singer for Led Zeppelin. Jimmy Page is the guitarist and founder of Led Zeppelin” Plant’s eyebrows raised. “I overheard you call each other Sam and Dean yesterday before my integration yesterday right before you said something about werewolves.”

They looked at each other. Then back at you. “Alright. I’m Sam. This is my brother Dean.” Dean gave you a grin. “We hunt monsters.”

“Monsters?”

“Yeah.” Dean said. “Ya know all the stories about things that go bump in the night well, they are true.” Your eyes went back and forth between them.

“We think someone is your office is a werewolf.” Sam explained. “Now we just have to find out who.”

“Before someone else gets killed.” Dean added. you stayed silent. “Do you want to sit down?” You shook your head.

“Do you want something to drink?” you shook your head again.

“So, how do we find it?”

“We,” Dean pointed to the three of you. “Do not.” He pointed at Sam and himself. “We have a plan.”

“Oh you have a plan?”

“Yes.”

“So yesterday, I was #1 on your list” you tried to sound like him using his words. he smiled. “Then today you tell me you hunter monsters and you don’t expect me to help?!”you said normally

“Sweetheart, I’m not letting you anywhere near this.”

The dream started the same way. Dark, cold, in a parking lot. You looked up to see the shadow figure and found Dean standing next to the black car. His face twisted with worry.

“Baby! Wake up!” He shouted, waking the growls and you start to run to him. “Baby, please, wake up!”

You pushed your feet with every ounce of strength, yet he remained frustratingly out of reach. Come on, you urged yourself. You pushed harder, determined to close the distance. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through your calf as claws tore into your flesh. You collapsed to the ground, a scream escaping your lips as you rolled over to see a monstrous figure looming above you. It had the body of a man but the face of a wolf, with long, jagged teeth and claws that glinted menacingly. The creature lifted its hand, ready to strike.

You let out a shout as you come to consciousness. Pulling the leg of your sweatpants up to check your calf. There was nothing there.

You approached the doors to the building, No Annie waiting for you today. Huh odd you thought to yourself. You looked over at her desk. No sign of her. You were worried now. You made your way to the reception desk, “Ellen has Annie came in yet?”

“No,” She clicked on her mouse a couple time. “She hasn’t called in sick either.”

Fuck you thought. “Did those FBI agents leave a contact number?”

“Yes, I believe they left one with Nick.”

“Thank you.”

You quickly walked to Nick’s office. The door was shut, and the lights were off. You knocked. Nothing. You tried the knob, it was unlocked. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness you found an empty room. What the hell was going on. You looked o his desk for the contact info. You found a business card hidden under his keyboard belonging to an Agent Plant. Bingo. You slipped out and shut the door.

You stopped at reception on the way back to your desk. “Well, no one here has heard from him.” Ellen said into the phone. “Yes, we will. And we would appreciate the same from you.” she listened. “Thank you. Buh bye.”

“Have you heard anything from Annie?” you asked her.

“No hon. I’m sorry. Did you find what you were looking for?”

“No, the door was locked.” you lied.

You walked back to your desk, grabbed your things, and walked out the front door. You called the number on the card as soon as you got to your apartment.

“Uh Agent Plant.”

“Dean. It’s [y/n]”

“How did you get this number?”

“No time, Annie and Nick are both missing. I need your help.”

You had just finished changing when you heard a knock on your door. You hesitate to answer.

“It’s us. We’re here.” Your feet started moving again as you heard Dean’s voice. You unlocked the door and opened it, but no one was there. “Baby.” you heard his voice again. You shut the door and locked it.

You slipped your shoes on as another knock landed on your door. You looked out your peep hole to find Sam and Dean “It’s us, we’re here.”

You opened the door “I’m ready let’s go.”

“Um no.” Dean argued.

“There’s no time. Let’s go.”

You could tell he didn’t like it, but he gave in.

“So, this is probably a bad time, but I feel like it’s your kind of thing. I have had the same dream for 6 straight nights.”  You said as Dean started to drive.

Sam and Dean looked at each other

“Tell us everything.” Sam demanded.

“Is your mom alive?” Sam asked.

“Yea I just talked to her the other day.”

Sam looked at Dean with furrowed brows. “What the hell is going on?!”

Annie’s door was locked. Fortunately, you knew where she hid the spare. You unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Annie?” Silence followed your call.

“Get behind me,” Dean said drawling his gun. You dul

“Annie? Are you here?” Sam called out.

You followed behind Dean as he crept slowly through the living room. Walking into the kitchen you could smell it. a putrid, pungent combination of earth and rotting meat. You buried your face into Dean’s back. “Is it Annie?”

“No. Just keep your face where it is.”

“Is it Nick.”

“I’m not gonna lie to you sweetheart. It is, but don’t look.”

A scream erupted through your lips as you felt claws ripping into your calf again. This time it was so much worse. Dean spun around and pushing you back out if the way. You lost your balance and fell to the floor. Under the table you saw her. Annie, your best friend. Only she wasn’t. Her face was different. Her eyes glowed yellow, her teeth were twice the size with sharp points, she was ravenous and wild. Just then you heard Dean’s voice again like a whisper in your ear. “Baby. Wake up I need you.” But he was standing, full attention to Annie or whatever the hell she was now.

“Dean?”

“Did you hear that? She said my name. She’s going to wake up.” you were looking right at him. His attention still on the creature, lips not moving at all.

The sudden crack of the gun jolted you awake, your eyes flying open. A harsh light flooded in from above, overwhelming your senses. It felt as if something was lodged in your throat, making it hard to breathe. You close your eyes as you gagged, desperately trying to dislodge whatever was choking you.

“Hey, we need help in here!!” you heard Sam yelling.

You feel fingers wrap around your hand as you hear Dean’s voice again “Baby, I’m here. Right here.”

“Oh, she woke up.” you hear a feminine voice say. “Sweetie, can you open your eyes”

Your eyes blink open trying to adjust to the brightness in the room. You feel slight pressure on your chest as the nurse checks your breathing. You hear the nurse on the other side of you speak into a phone. “Dr Palley to room 2-0-4. Dr Palley to room 2-0-4.”

“What. What’s wrong?” Dean asked the nurse.

“Nothing sir. We are paging her doctor so he can check her vitals and remove the tube.” Dean pressed his lips to your knuckles. “This is very good news sir.”

“Can you understand me?” you heard as you see a man in a white coach hovering over you. you nod. He flashed a light into both of your eyes, then you felt the pressure on your chest again. “Your lungs sound good. “Let’s take this tube out, ok?” you nodded again.

The removal was a nightmare. You felt as if you were on the brink of suffocation, but once the tube was finally removed, a wave of relief washed over you. you sighed and laid your head back on your pillow.

“Now your throat is going to be sore from the tube. You have a broken arm and a cracked rib. Other than that, it’s bumps and bruises. You are lucky that bear could have done a lot worse than that. I’m going to have the nurse give you something for the discomfort through your IV If you need anything else just let your nurse know, ok?” you nodded.

“Alright darlin. Just let me know if you need anything.”  your nurse said, “I’m so happy to see them pretty eyes.”

“Me too.” Dean agreed.

She walked out of the room.

“Don’t you ever fucking do that to me again!” Dean exclaimed. You smiled and then puckered. He carefully pressed his lips against yours.  

“Werewolf?” you asked in a soft raspy voice. Dean nodded. “I just had the craziest dream”

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[were-all-idjits-here]

Accidental "I Love You"

Pairing: Sam Winchester x gender neutral reader Summary: While enlisting Sam's help to prank Dean, you may or may not blurt something out in the moment that seems to strike an unexpected chord with Sam. Warnings: some cussing; teeny, tiny bit of angst in that Sam and reader are two idiots who don't realize the other is in love with them. A/N: dipping my toe back into writing after some time off with this one. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

*

“What the hell, Dean?” Sam growled as the three of you returned to the motel room. He gestured for you to enter in front of him before slamming the door behind him and holding his hands out in a what the fuck gesture.

“Yeah, seriously,” you grumbled, taking your backpack—now full of loose Skittles thanks to the elder Winchester—towards one of the two beds in the room. “I don’t even like Skittles.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Dean said, just as irritated. “Look, I thought it was Sam’s backpack. It’s not my fault you two have the same one!”

You set your backpack down on Dean’s bed. “Mine’s blue!”

“Navy blue!” Dean corrected. “Sam’s is black, it looks…almost…the same.”

“No, it doesn’t!” you and Sam cry in unison. Although you were no stranger to watching the brothers’ prank war, they’d never targeted you. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t really a big deal; it wasn’t as if it was hot enough to melt the candy and create a sticky mess. But after that particular hunt, you just weren’t in the mood and appreciated Sam’s rage on your behalf.

Dean sighed. “Well, Y/N—I’m sorry. I was aiming for Sam and promise I’ll be more careful next time.”

You flopped down on the bed you and Sam had claimed. “Least you could do is buy us some grub.”

“If I go to that sandwich shop in town and get you a five-cheese grilled cheese, am I forgiven?”

“Only if you get the artichoke dip with it.”

“You got it. Sammy, I’ll get you…something much more boring, don’t worry.” With that, he fled from the room.

You sighed as the Impala’s engine growled to life outside, exchanging annoyed, drained glances with Sam as he sat down at the small, round table in the corner.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said. “I can help you clean your bag out—”

“Nah.”  You stood and took the offending object from Dean’s bed. “Now that he’s gone, I’ve got a better idea.”  You ripped back the comforter (if it could be called that) off the bed before shoving back the top and fitted sheet, unzipping your backpack and upending it onto the mattress.

Sam laughed so hard, he scared you. You glanced over at him, smiling mischievously as you used your hands to spread the candy out more evenly.

“Well, here, at least get it across the whole bed in case he rolls.” Sam shot up out of his chair and tore the rest of the blankets and sheets off the mattress, helping you pour more Skittles until a fair amount covered the whole mattress.

You groaned as the two of you put the fitted sheet back on carefully over the minefield that was now Dean’s bed. “Oh god, the poor cleaning lady.”

Sam chuckled. “We’ve left behind worse messes, believe me—oh, actually…”

As you finished re-making the bed, Sam ran over to his backpack on the table and pulled out a whoopie cushion. He gave you a wicked grin as he grabbed the pillow off the side Dean usually slept on, stuffing it into the bottom of the case.

You cackled. “That’ll be right in his ear! He’s gonna go deaf!”

“Exactly.” Sam gave you a big, toothy grin and you couldn’t help but stare. He had such a nice smile that was so rarely on display, and you took pride in being one of the few to draw it out of him.

He stared back for a long moment before clearing his throat and putting his hands in his pockets. “You know this is gonna initiate you into the prank war now though, right? Dean won’t hold back.”

“Oh, I look forward to it.” You held out your hand across the bed. “We could be allies though and not tell Dean, really mess with his head. Truce?”

Sam smiled and shook your hand. “Truce.” He glanced back down at the bed. “You don’t happen to have any glue, do you?”

“Oh god, for what?”

He shrugged. “Could glue some Skittles to his stuff.” He joined you on your side of the bed to riffle through his duffle bag on the floor behind you. “Oh! I might have some superglue left from forever ago.”

“Do I even wanna know what you used that for?”

He pulled his bag up onto your shared bed and sat as he riffled through it. “We had a bit of a prank war a while back and I, uh…might’ve put super glue all over his beer bottle in a restaurant so he couldn’t put it back down.”

You threw your head back and laughed, giving Sam a playful shove to the shoulder. “Oh god, I love you.”

Sam’s head suddenly snapped up, the smile half-frozen on his face as he stared at you with a deer-in-the-headlights look. He gave you a breathy laugh before quickly returning his attention to his bag. “Uh…yeah, I—um…”

Your face fell. “Sam?”

“I’m okay,” he said a little too quickly before pulling a small tube out of one of his bag’s front pockets. “Ah, damn, it’s empty.”

Awkwardness still hung thick in the air, making you wonder if your joking I love you had revealed too much about how you actually felt. You suddenly felt a little dizzy at the thought of having just given yourself away only to have your and Sam’s friendship slowly start to crumble in the face of inevitable rejection. You two had always been close and even though the stares had been a little longer lately, if he felt the same about you, you would’ve known by now…right? And surely he wouldn’t have had that reaction just now.

You tried to hide the shakiness of your breath. “We’ll, uh…have to make sure we get more next time we’re at the store then.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at you nervously before giving you a quick smile that disappeared in a hurry.

You hovered by him awkwardly for a few moments, trying to glance at him without catching his eye while he was suddenly very interested in the depths of his bag, empty superglue tube in hand.

“I’ll just—” he started.

“I’m gonna—”  you tried, beginning to move out of the aisle between beds towards the bathroom just as he stood up, bumping straight into you. With his speed and bulk, however, he almost knocked you over and quickly grabbed your forearms to stop you from tumbling back into the nightstand.

“Sorry!” he cried, finally meeting your gaze.

You had grabbed some of his shirt in your fists on instinct and for a moment, you stood transfixed again. Up close, his eyes really were pretty—they were so versatile: some days, they were a deep, dark brown that reminded you of chocolate and looked so warm and inviting, you wanted to just sink into him. Others, like today, flecks of green popped out in just the right lighting, reminding you of a sunflower field. You didn’t realize he was staring back at you with just as much intensity until his thumbs began rubbing gentle circles into your forearms.

You shook your head slightly to clear it. “I’m, ahem, gonna use the bathroom while it’s free.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course! I—yeah!” He quickly let you go, stepping out of your way and gesturing for you to move first.

You quickly yanked a change of clothes out of your now clean bag before hurrying to the bathroom, shutting and locking the door and whatever had just happened away behind you.

Later that night, after you and Sam had already settled in bed, Dean finally emerged from the bathroom. Being on the side closest to his bed, you turned away to face Sam to hide your smile. You found him with his eyes open as well, biting his lip to avoid laughing.

Dean made a contented sigh as you heard the covers thrown back, followed by several cracking and popping noises, then the loud flbbbpppppttttt of the whoopie cushion. “Son of a bitch! Oh, god, ow—fuck—what the hell!”

You covered your mouth with your hand in a vain attempt to hide your laughs, seeing Sam do the same out of the corner of your eye.

“I know you two assholes are awake,” Dean grumbled before climbing back out of bed and checking under the fitted sheet. “Oh, this is war, Y/N.”

“Enjoy your Skittle bed, dickhead,” you said over your shoulder, pulling a loud guffaw from Sam.

“I’m sleeping on the damn couch,” Dean muttered before you heard him move across the room.

You closed your eyes, smiling to yourself, and tried to focus on evening out your breathing. After several minutes, right before you crossed the threshold of sleep, you could’ve sworn you felt warm fingers brushing your cheek.

[fandomtherapy44]

Coffee Meet-Ups Sam Winchester x Fem! Reader One Shot!

summary: Y/n needs a tutor, and Sam is happy to help.

Warnings: A little bit of cussing, kissing

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WC: 1,434

AN: Hey Ya'll, I thought I would do a fluff fic for our boy Sam Winchester, I've done fics for Cas and Dean, so I thought it was time for Sam. I also just put out a Dean Fic with smut if you're interested, I hope you guys enjoy!

The air is crisp and cool leaves are falling down, the sky is full of orange and brown. I could see my breath make puffs like I was smoking. People in Harvard sweaters were walking to their classes. A slight hint of cinnamon and apple drafting through the atmosphere really gives you the Fall feel. A real Gilmore Girls picture. Too bad I didn’t have the time to enjoy it. I am currently running to make it to my tutor meeting on time. 

“Excuse me!” I said rushing in between and out of people making it look like I was crazy.

I finally made it to the on-campus coffee shop. And there is my tutor looking very disappointed while looking at his watch and then at me like a mother would if you missed curfew.

“Hey, Steve I am so ready to learn all about the integration of advanced criminal law.” I try to soften everything with a smile. 

“Great, my suggestion is to sit down and open the book I’ll see you around.” He walks past me and I grab his arm.

“Wait Steve, please I will fail this class without you.” I pleaded almost begging.

“Y/n you are smart but you don’t imply yourself enough and I don’t have the time to do it for you, good luck.” With that, he turns and walks out letting the cold hit me with the realization that I no longer had the very expensive tutor that my parents were paying for. I sighed deeply racking my brain about what I was going to do and turned and ran into someone and something hot.

“Ah fuck! Shit holy that fucking-” I looked up and I saw one of the cutest guys I had ever seen. And suddenly my burn from the coffee didn’t seem so bad anymore.

“Oh my gosh I am so sorry, here sit down I'll bring napkins.” he leads me to a chair very carefully. He brings napkins with cold water on them. “Agan I am very sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going and I-” He stops and does the same thing I did. 

“I’m babbling and this is the the first thing I should have asked, are you okay?” His eyes peer into mine and they are a deep chocolate brown.

“Yeah, I'm okay nothing like a mini heart attack to start the day.” I joke to lighten the mood.

“Definitely, I’m Sam.” He brings out his hand to shake. I take it and he has a nice firm handshake. 

“Y/n, so where were you going with such hot coffee so early?”

“Just classes.” 

I then see the books he’s carrying.

“So law huh? Same here.” He looks kind of shocked at that.

“Really what made you want to do law?” He asks now intrigued.

“I want to… make a difference really fight for the people who can’t fight for themselves, basic I know.” I picked at my fingernails to try to distract myself from my own self-deprecation.

“No no, I like that, a lot of people become lawyers for the wrong reasons.”

“Well, it's not like I'll even be able to come one.” 

“Why?” He asked with true wonder for some reason about a stranger.

“I am totally failing my classes that’s why I was actually here I was meeting my tutor but I screwed that up too.” 

Sam then gets an idea.

“How about I tutor you.” He says with complete seriousness.

“What no I couldn't ask you to do that Sam, I'm sure you're super busy.” I blinked my eyes not believing the offer.

“Well you're not asking I’m offering, it can be me making it up to you for spilling coffee on you so what do you say?” I look at him and his sincerity in his eyes and for some reason I believe him which is weird for a guy I barely know.

“Okay, you are on Sam.” We shake on it.

I am actually early for once to a tutor meeting. Books open, coffee ready. I didn't want to waste Sam’s time. He walks in looking cute without even trying he’s in some jeans and a brown sweatshirt matching his hair. 

“Hey, you ready?” He sat down and pulled out his book.

“Yes teach!” I pulled out my pencil and was ready. 

“Ok good.” He chuckles at enthusiasm. “So let’s start with chapter fifteen…”

About two hours later I had been taught and understood more about law than I had from my tutors and teacher. 

“Wow, Sam, I think you're the best I've ever had.” I blush at what I just said and try to quickly backpedal. “I mean I the best tutor I mean.” I mentally slap my forehead.

“Thank you and you are welcome. And you are the best student I've had.” He smiles at my clumsy put together complement.

“No way I mean I got like ten questions wrong.” I was flattered but a little shocked at that.

“Yeah I mean I don’t usually tutor and you actually want to learn unlike some people here.” 

“You don’t usually tutor then why me?” I asked hoping that it wasn't pity.

“I saw you're potential and thought you deserved a chance too.” 

I didn’t even notice that tears were in my eyes.

“Thank you, Sam. I won’t let you down!” I gave a big smile and a thumbs up.

“I know.” 

It had been about two weeks into these tutor sessions with Sam and the information was actually sticking like never before we also had started to build a friendship.

“So worst injury from when you were a kid, go.” I half demanded in a friendly way while sipping my coffee we had been an hour in but got distracted by talking about our childhoods I can't even remember who asked the first question.

He sits back in his chair thinking for a moment. “Mhh I broke my arm when I was four.”  

My eyes light in surprise. “Really!? How?” 

“I had followed my brother on top of a shed and we were dressed as Superman and Batman and he had convinced me that I could actually fly so I jumped off and lold and behold I broke my arm so Dean had to take me in his handlebars on his fisher price bike.” he finished off with laughing and I joined in.

“Wow, I don’t know if I can top that.” I slapped his arm.

“Oh come on it’s your turn.” 

“Okay well, when I was six I sprang my ankle.” I see his face and he tries to hold back his laugh. “Hey hey, I never said it was good.” I also laugh.

“Well, I guess it's good that it wasn't worse but it doesn't really make for a good story.”

“That’s what I told you!” I then think about my test.

“Hey, Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“You think I can pass this test?” I picked at my fingernails again.

He grabbed my hand. And directed my head to meet his.

“I fully believe in you Y/n, you are going to be a damn good lawyer.” Again I look into his eyes and believe him.

I grab my test and run to find Sam. I ran through in-between other people not caring if I bumped into them. 

“Sam! SAM!” I yelled all the way to the coffee shop with the test paper in my hand arm raised looking crazy. And I did not care. I get there and see him in there standing in line. I pulled open the door and full on ran to him.

“Sam SAM! LOOK! LOOK!” Everyone looks at me with a look at this girl who belongs in the coo-coo place. “Sam I passed!” I hand the paper to him he takes it studies it and sees the grade.

“I knew you could go it!” He picks me up in a hug and spins around in excitement. He puts me down both of us high and giddy from the good news our eyes met and we both decide to go for it. We meet in the middle of a sweet kiss. It was slow with a tiny bit of earning behind it. His lips were a bit chapped but still soft somehow. We both let go at the same time.

“Wow, that was amazing.” He said while gently grabbing my hand.

“Really, me too.” I smiled at our hands joined. “I guess it’s lucky you bumped into me.”

“And I guess I'm lucky you needed a tutor.” I giggle at that and we kiss again.

Thank you for reading!

[amaretigris]

An Ancient Attraction

Taglist: @luna2034 @hopeisrising @notagreekgal28 @mylittlemermaid221 @justagirlthatlovedtoread @freyagallileaevans @daydreamerwithnohobbies @jonahmermaid23 @jonahhauer-kingg

Trigger warning: physical abuse

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Ch. 9 | 2.7k words | Angst

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"The messages that I saw were very hostile. Are you applying to UCL?"

You nodded your head with wide eyes.

"I think Dustin has an accomplice. I trust you've met Vanessa at your university? She's developed an infatuation with Jonah in recent years."

You nodded again, gulping.

"Well, they seem to be in on it together," Deb stated plainly.

"The messages threatened to send explicit photos of you to a dean at UCL to ruin your chances of attending."

Fuck. Your blood pressure instantly spiked. Deb observed you closely.

"It seems that their condition for not sending them was that Jonah cut off all contact with you."

You released a strangled sob, your hand coming to cover your mouth.

No, it couldn't be. Jonah was trying to protect you this whole time?

That would explain why things ended so suddenly between you. You knew that Jonah had a previous reputation of being a playboy, but what he'd done to you seemed a little crueler than that. Deb watched the gears turn in your head. She passed you the box of tissues from her desk. You shakily nodded your thanks, grabbing one.

"Listen, (Y/N). I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you this," she paused, allowing you to collect yourself.

"From what I gather, Dustin was abusive in your previous relationship. Is that correct?"

Your teary eyes caught hers again. You really had to pull yourself together.

"Yes," you confirmed.

"This is another extremely personal question, (Y/N), but did Dustin ever take explicit photos of you?"

You looked down at your feet, shaking your head.

"Not to my knowledge, but I wasn't in a good mental state at the time. I'm not sure I would have realized if he did it in secret. In all honesty, I wouldn't put it past him."

Deb released a sigh.

"I'm sorry that you've had to deal with that kind of trauma, dear. No one deserves that - especially not someone like you."

Your face lifted at her words.

"There are some perks to my job here. One of them is that we have an IT department that blocks hackers from accessing our archives. My friend over there should be able to access Dustin's iCloud to locate and destroy the photos, but it will take some time."

You blinked. What did that mean? Deb answered the question written on your face.

"This means that we'll have to continue on with things the way they currently are. We can't let Jonah or Dustin know about what we're doing. I know this is hard for you, (Y/N). I'm sorry to have to put you through this, but I need you to hold out for just a bit longer."

"Okay," you resigned.

You understood, but you really wished you could just go back to the way things were before.

"How long will it take?"

Deb sat back in her chair.

"I'm not sure; maybe a week, maybe longer. The man who's doing this is working on it on the side as a personal favor to me. He and I would both face disciplinary action if our management found out that he was working on this on company time with company resources. I have some power here, but not that much."

You nodded again.

"Alternatively, we could go to the police with this if that would make you more comfortable, (Y/N)."

Your eyes widened in a panic.

"No, please," you shook your head.

"Dustin has been arrested before. He's constantly watching out for the police. He'll know something's up, and send whatever he has before they get to him."

Deb nodded.

"I was afraid of that," she answered.

It sucked, yes, but you could finally see a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. Deb was giving you a way out.

"Why can't we tell Jonah?"

Deb sighed.

"My son is very headstrong. He gets that from his father. He's doing what he thinks is right to protect you. If we informed him of my involvement, I fear he may panic or lash out. He might make things worse."

You looked down at your hands in your lap.

"Okay," you spoke again. "He's been avoiding me on campus, and he blocked my number, so it won't be hard for me to act miserable for another week."

Deb sat up in her chair. She fixed you with sincere eyes.

"(Y/N)," she got your attention again.

"He's been just as miserable, I can promise you that. He's not been himself since this happened. That's why I knew something was wrong."

Your eyes watered again at her words.

"Thank you. Thank you for doing this. I don't know how I can ever repay you," you shook your head.

"Don't worry, seeing Jonah happy again is more than enough for me," she smiled.

After a little more consolation, Deb offered to walk you back to the help desk. You sniffled and wiped your face as you left her office. You turned around to shake her hand once more when you reached the lobby, but Deb surprised you when she pulled you into a hug. It was a bear hug, similar to the ones Jonah gave. You relaxed into it, letting your chin rest on her shoulder with your eyes closed.

"It will all work out, (Y/N). We just have to have faith and patience."

She squeezed you one last time before letting go, and put a hand to your cheek with a smile. You nodded, thanking her profusely again. The whole way home, you felt your heart defrosting. You had hope for the first time in weeks.

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Jonah collapsed in his desk chair, having just arrived home from Max's again. He tipped the Uber driver extra to speed and get him home as quickly as possible. His clothes reeked of spilled alcohol, smoke, and sweat. The smell made him nauseous. Quickly pulling his shirt up and over his head, he threw it to the floor. He was softly crying with his head in his hands. Jonah had attended another house party with the goal of getting drunk enough to stop feeling guilty and thinking about you. It didn't work. Nothing worked, no matter how many parties he went to. He would never get over the fact that he let you down after what you told him you'd already been through.

Some random idiot at the party had opened their mouth asking Jonah what the deal was with that hot, nerdy chick he'd been seen with. Jonah tried to walk away, but the guy didn't know when to quit.

"I'm just saying man, if you aren't hittin' it anymore, can I have her digits? Sexy nerds might be my new fetish," the guy laughed while looking at his friends.

Jonah spun around with every intention to hit the guy square across the jaw, but Max caught his arm.

"Hey, whoa!"

Jonah let Max lower his arm, but his face showed he was still seething.

"Jonah," Max snapped in his line of vision, trying to get his attention. "Hey, it's not worth it. Let's call it a night, man. I'll walk you out, and order you a ride."

Jonah didn't know what to do anymore. He wished more than anything that he could run to you for comfort. But he couldn't. What choice did he really have? How could he make the decision for you? If you found out that he was the sole reason that you couldn't attend UCL and achieve your dream, surely, you would resent him for it. Things would never be the same between you, no matter how much Jonah tried to make amends. Feeling quite hopeless, Jonah put his head down on his arms on the desktop.

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You skipped up the steps to your flat feeling so much more hopeful, and fishing your keys out of your bag. You unlocked your door, and put the keys in your palm. You reached for the doorknob when you suddenly heard shuffling behind you. Your eyes widened, and you spun around to see Dustin. He had a devious smirk on his lips. He grabbed your arm, pushing you back against the wall beside your door forcefully.

"There you are. I finally caught you out and about," he smiled.

"Dustin, please, don't do anything stupid. I'll scream," you warned him.

"Now, why would you do that?"

Dustin's smile grew more sinister.

"Is it because I'm not your boy toy, Jonah?"

Your eyes were saucers, and you opened your mouth to respond, but you were cut off by a sharp pain to your side. You felt your breath leave you, and you folded over from Dustin's punch right below your ribs.

"Do you know how fucking mad it makes me that you whored yourself out to him?"

Dustin kept taunting even as you tried to recover from the blow. You took shallow breaths, trying to regain your senses. Dustin had never actually hit you until now, though he'd threatened it plenty of times. He was still rambling when you stood up straight again. Honestly, you only heard ringing in your ears at this point. You took another breath before you brought your knee up as hard as you could. Dustin doubled over, calling you a "miserable bitch", and you scrambled out of his hold to make it to your door. He grabbed your wrist to try to stop you, but you turned, and slashed your keys across his face. Dustin let out a yelp, and released you. You stumbled into your doorway, slamming it behind you, locking both locks, and sliding the chain in place. You were panting as you let your back slide down the door.

You listened, and Dustin's cursing and crying eventually faded. Relieved that he left with his tail between his legs, you looked down. With trembling breath and a shaky hand, you lifted your shirt. Your side was already a mix of shades of red, purple, and blue. Sighing and letting your head fall back against the door, you sat there contemplating your next move for almost an hour. You could go to the police with this and get Dustin arrested. If you did that, however, it would ruin the plan, and Vanessa would undoubtedly send the photos. Deciding to put a brave face on and keep your mouth shut, you checked outside through your peep hole. You cautiously opened the door, and began the walk to the university hospital.

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Jonah's phone vibrating woke him the next morning. He sat up at his desk, wiping the drool off his chin, and sliding his phone out of his pants pocket. He read the cryptic text from an unknown number asking him to call them when he had the chance. Sighing and hitting the call button, he put his phone up to his ear. Jonah pinched the bridge of his nose, and yawned. This better not be another blackmail tactic by Dustin and Vanessa. He'd had plenty of their shit by now. He got the point. When an unfamiliar female voice answered, Jonah was quite confused.

"Hello?" The woman answered.

Jonah paused.

"Uh, hello. I got a text to call this number. My name's J-"

"Yeah, I know who you are. I looked you up in the system to get your number. My name's Ariel. Look, I work at the university hospital. I don't really know you, and you don't know me at all, but I wanted to give you a courtesy call. I'm in your history lecture, believe it or not, and I've seen you and (Y/N) together before-"

Jonah shot up from his chair at the mention of your name.

"(Y/N)? Is she okay? Did something happen?"

"No. Well, I mean, yes, but she's fine. She wouldn't let me call anyone for her, but I thought someone should know."

Jonah was pacing back and forth across his room.

"Know what?"

Ariel sighed on the line.

"She came in to get checked with bruises on her left side. She says she fell down the stairs, but the contusions aren't consistent with a fall."

Jonah stopped his pacing, and balled up his fist. What the hell happened? Did Dustin do this?

At his silence, Ariel continued.

"I'll send you the pictures we took of her abdomen. She's an adult, and I don't have the grounds to call the police for her, but I wanted to let you know. Don't tell anyone I sent these to you," she insisted, "or I'll get fired."

Jonah swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Okay. You have my word," Jonah promised.

"Thank you," he added.

"I'm just looking out for a fellow woman," Ariel replied. "Seems like someone should. But, seriously, don't mention it."

Jonah nodded, but the call ended. He gulped again, anxiously awaiting the pictures. Jonah clicked on the message as soon as the notification appeared. He gasped at seeing your side painted in bruises. Tears sprung to his eyes. He would wring Dustin's neck for this.

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You walked as quickly as you could back to your apartment from the hospital. You had turned down Ariel, the nice assistant's, offer to give you a ride home. You didn't want to be a bother to anyone or do anything out of the ordinary to raise suspicion. Not when you were so close to winning your life with Jonah back. You hurried through the parking lot and up to your door, not paying much attention to the cars parked there. You went in, and shut and locked your door behind you. With his seat leaned back, Jonah watched you go inside, and adjusted the driver's seat of his car back upright.

He gripped his steering wheel, fighting every urge in his body to go to your door, and beg for you to let him in. He would kiss every bruise, and he would beg for your forgiveness. Whether you were speaking or not, Jonah knew one thing for sure. He would never let Dustin lay another finger on you.

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Jonah leaned against the front of his car with his arms crossed.

"Well?" Dustin appeared in the empty parking lot.

"What was so urgent that we had to meet now?"

Jonah barked a laugh at Dustin's annoyance. He stood up straight, stepping toward the shorter man. When Jonah examined him closer, he saw cuts on Dustin's face. One was particularly deep, and had a fresh stitch or two in it. Jonah smirked slightly, hoping that you gave that to him when he attacked you. Not giving Dustin a chance to step back, Jonah grabbed and lifted him by his collar like he did during their first encounter. Dustin weakly pawed at his hand.

"If you lay another hand on (Y/N), everything's off. I'll beat you within an inch of your life, and then I'll go to the cops and my father. You'll be arrested for blackmail and assault. I'll personally see to it that Vanessa is arrested and expelled from our university."

"How do you know I won't send the pictures just for this?" Dustin remarked.

Jonah let go of his collar, and watched him stumble to the ground.

"Your ego," Jonah answered. "But keeping pushing my fucking buttons, and I might decide to take my chances."

Jonah turned from Dustin then. He slid back into the driver's seat of his car, and peeled out of the abandoned lot.

[motelsnleatherseats]

Sweet Revenge

Dean's not one to relent control in most situations, but most definitely not in sexually charged ones. Most nights he's the one putting Sam in his position of choice, dictating the pace, calling the shots, but every once in a blue moon, he'll relinquish authority to Sam (or so Sam thinks).

Some nights Dean seems insatiable, vying for round after round like it's an all out marathon, but Sam's got the stamina for it and hardly puts up a fight, but he's so damn sensitive, it's easy for him to get overstimulated. Dean likes that; he enjoys watching Sam squirm, listening to him whine and feeling him shudder at even the smallest of caresses when he's all but spent, and he tucks that ammo away for later use to tease him when he sees fit. It's rare when Sam gets to turn the tables on him, but this time, he had the advantage of a whiskey-soaked Dean not being as coordinated as he typically is.

Sam had managed to wrestle Dean to the closest chair amidst their heated lip lock after a night out at the nearest local dive bar, beer and brown liquor being the lingering aftertaste once their lips had parted. Dean smirked in that cocksure way of his when Sam straddled his lap, his hands finding his brother's hips to pull him forward for some delicious friction up against his ass, but Sam denied him with a small display of his own strength, long and deft fingers curling around Dean's wrists to yank them away, pushing them behind the back of the chair and holding them there.

"Ooh, think you're taking control tonight, Sammy?" Dean asked, and even with slightly unfocused eyes, they were still so wide, glimmering with a hint of mischief and lust.

"Can't see how you're gonna wrestle your way out of this one," Sam chided with a small grin of his own, one hand holding Dean's wrists back while the other moved to undo his own belt, snapping it free from the belt loops and making quick work of securing it around the older Winchester's wrists and the back of the chair, keeping him in place, Dean's demeanor wavering for half a second.

"What, you think I can't work my hands free? C'mon, little brother, give me more credit than that," Dean replied with a twist of his balled fists and an attempted yank of arms, but it only seemed to grow tighter. His expression faltered briefly before he gave a grunt and tried again. No dice. "Okay, might take me a minute, but I'll get it."

"Uh huh, you go ahead and keep trying," Sam retorted with a breathy chuckle, sliding off his lap and standing before him, suddenly much taller and more domineering than Dean could ever recall him being.

"Hey-" Dean grunted as he continued to struggle. "Don't leave me hangin', that's a bitch move."

"Oh I'm not," Sam replied, shifting down to his knees before he pushed Dean's thighs apart, sliding his palms up along the denim clad flesh, warmth of his skin radiating through his jeans. "I'm just getting a little pay back."

"Pay back? For what? For making you come like four times the other night, or..?" A grunt followed as Sam moved his hand to run his palm over Dean's forming bulge, sucking in a breath through his teeth as the confines loosened and Sam made quick work of pulling his cock out. "Fuck, Sammy," he groaned, blunt nails making small indents into his own palms.

"For dragging it out until it hurt." His fingers curled around his girth, giving slow and indulgent strokes, enjoying the way his brother's cock was fattening in his hand, hardening quickly against his palm, earning another grunt.

"Don't be a-" A struggled sound. "Baby. You loved it," Dean managed to finish as Sam gripped the base of his dick and moved his other hand to roll his palm over the sensitive head, thumb teasing the slit afterward. His eyelids fluttered before he tipped his head back, lips parted as he exhaled in a heated manner. "Tease," he complained, though his hips raised slightly.

"Doesn't mean I can't return the favor."

His hands continued to work over Dean's cock until he was hard as marble, hot and heavy under his practiced techniques. Dean continued to try and chase the sensation, his body doing the begging by silently encouraging him to hurry it up, add a little pressure, move a little faster, just something. It was only when Sam put his mouth to use that Dean gave into his frustrations, dropping his head some and giving another yank at the belt keeping him in place.

"Fuck, c'mon Sammy," Dean groaned, wanting more than anything to push his fingers into those long and silky locks so he could fuck into that incredible heat of his mouth. But Sam was a step ahead of him, his hands moving to hold his hips in place so he couldn't raise his hips, leaving him at the mercy of his lazy rhythm. "S'not fuckin' fair," he complained, even as his cock gave a hard throb against the velvety wetness of his tongue and cheeks.

He was rewarded with a grin around his dick before he gave in a little, suddenly deep throating him until his nose was pressed to his pubic bone, throat tight around the thick girth and Dean physically shuddered.

“Jesus, Sammy,” Dean moaned, toes curling in his shoes as his breathing quickened, the pleasure coursing through him making his heart hammer in his chest as his stomach tightened. “Fuck, that feels so fucking good. Don’t stop, baby, shit..”

But it was too good to be true and Sam did stop, and he pulled up as he felt a little spurt of precome slick the back of his throat with a wet pop. Dean agonized.

“Sam, fuck, don’t,” Dean spoke, the desperation in his voice too fucking sweet for Sam not to revel in it. “… please.” A small victory was earned.

“I don’t recall you listening when I said please.”

“Okay, okay, fuck,” Dean was practically whining, his cock aching from the lack of attention. “I’m sorry, just.. Please, baby boy.”

Seemingly satisfied and swayed, Sam moved to take the head into his mouth, swirling his tongue slowly as his hand rejoined his efforts, stroking the remaining length of his brother’s cock as he enjoyed the mix of pained and pleasured sounds that fell from his full lips. Dean tipped his head back again, his arms beginning to ache slightly from trying to squirm free and he had to will himself to relax his muscles a bit, though it was difficult with the way his little brother sucked his cock like a come-hungry hoover. He could feel his stomach tensing, the slowly tightening spring of an impending orgasm making him delirious with pleasure. His breath hitched, a tell-tale sign that he was close, and just like that, Sam had pulled off again.

This time Dean did whine, low and petulant, like he could be on the verge of a tantrum, and the grin that laid upon Sam’s spit-slick lips wasn’t helping the situation.

“Sam, I swear to fucking God-”

“Don’t be a… what was that you called me? A baby?”

“Dude, point taken! Fuck, please, I’m so fuckin’ close.”

“Does it hurt?”

Dean’s jaw clenched, torn between his ego and his orgasm. Sam had him exactly where he wanted him, and it fucking sucked.

“It hurts, huh?"

“Yes, okay, fuck, it fucking hurts,” Dean admitted, his eyebrows knitted together as he tried to raise his hips and get any bit of friction from Sam’s grip on him. The reaction alone was enough to satisfy the younger, but he still took his time. He tightened his hold on Dean’s reddened and throbbing cock, slowly dragging his hand up and down.

“Beg me to let you come,” Sam spoke, voice low, his own hazel-lit eyes now alight with mischief the way Dean’s had been before. “Beg real pretty and maybe I’ll let you.”

Dean was already planning revenge on his brother, the little shit, but getting off was the most important thing right now. After a moment of internal struggle, he let his pride take a back seat and let his libido earn him his reward.

“Please, Sammy, please let me come. God, I need it so fuckin’ bad-”

And Sam believed him, so he obliged with a quickening of his hand, the slick squelches of pumping Dean’s spit-slick cock growing louder and mingling with Dean’s whines and groans, feeling him tense as they grew higher pitched. He felt a throb against his palm and suddenly let go, and Dean all but lost his shit. He had been half a second away from achieving orgasm and Sam was fucking grinning at him. He was grinning at him like he was getting off on edging him to the point of insanity, and Dean truly believed in that moment that he might actually lose his fucking mind.

“Sam-” his voice was choked, and Sam could almost swear that he was actually tearing up.

Oh, the payback was sweet.

↳ day 1 (edging) of kinktober2024, can be found on ao3 here if y'all feel so inclined to leave kudos or comments. 😊

[obsessedtomone]

Unravel Yourself Before Me ⛓️ Chapter 7 - Anomalies▸Shigaraki x femReader

Chapter Summary:

◤ So now you find yourself standing in front of the classroom door, staring holes into it. There’s around five minutes left before the bell rings, but you can’t bring yourself to go in, despite multiple students passing you by and entering themselves.

You can’t fucking do it. You can’t stomach facing him today. You know you should, but you just can’t. ◢

Setting: University AU - No quirks (unless degenerate personalities count) Tags: Slow burn, Eventual Smut, Unhealthy/Toxic Relationships, Humiliation, Mentally Ill Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to ??? Warning: Dead Dove – Do Not Eat | Mind the tags TW: Implied Su/Self H, Dubcon, Reader has a super shitty past like actually, Shigaraki Tomura is his own warning.

AO3 Crosspost | Chain Divider by firefly-graphics

Chapters: One • Two • Three • Four • Five • Six • Seven • Eight

Chapter 7 - Anomalies

Two whole days have passed since your phone call with Shigaraki. Both of them were a total fucking blur. 

You ended up spending most of your time at Taylor’s, drinking yourself to sleep and watching shitty chick flicks on their couch, blocking reality out. 

Well, almost blocking reality out. The hangovers tend to ground you like nothing else really, when you realize you’ve made good friends with Taylor’s pristine ass bathroom tiles, enhancing that nausea with a lovely Fabuloso scent that you’re pretty sure won’t get out of your nose for the next couple of days.

Between the porcelain throne and your friend cooking fantastic comfort foods for you to feed back into the sewage system, you finally got a call from your university’s faculty. 

You find yourself in front of a big double-doored office, tapping your foot anxiously as you’re sitting in one of the shitty chairs they put out for regular visitors, waiting for the dean to call you in. The secretary eyes you with pure disdain as you walk by her, so you know you’re in for a great time, the circus having finally reached the faculty’s ears.

College is the last fucking place you want to be at right now. 

Virtually everyone is able to recognize you now, even after doing your absolute best to dress more inconspicuously than you usually did. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t fucking work. Masks and dark hoods only make you look like an Assassin’s Creed cosplayer in the best case scenario, and a potential school shooter in the worst, prompting NPCs to double-check. So you gave up, pulling your hood down and tucking your black colored mask into your pockets, halfway through your way here.

It’s the harsh fucking reality, but you stand out. No matter what you do from now on, you’ll always stand out.

The dean opens one of the doors to his office and you grit your teeth as he gestures for you to enter. Old leather and gross shoe polish invade your senses as he offers you a seat and goes on to take his own. 

It’s funny how uncomfortable the huge squeaky armchair is making you feel, when you know it’s designed for anything but. Many big investors and rich asshole parents have sat where you do right now, yet here you are. 

You doubt they called you here to strike another deal with you. No, instead, you’re about to hear the lecture of a fucking lifetime.

He clears his throat, hand stroking his short white beard and he finally initiates the painful conversation. 

“You see, dear lady, I’m certainly aware times have changed, and discussions like these may seem outdated to your generation, but allow me to share with you a time where rules were different.” He pauses for effect, you assume. “Back then, any improper behavior resembling what’s become common today, would have led to an immediate and undisputable expulsion. It’s a stark contrast to what us, the older generation, has to witness now.” His chin tilts downwards. ”Nevertheless, while the times may have evolved, the core principles of decency still remain and should always apply.”

The older man fixes you a stern gaze, making you shift in your chair. His disapproval is obvious and his blatant judgment affects you in a way you feel you’d disappointed a grandparent. It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes at him, somehow still able to maintain a shred of composure.

He’s not for real, you think to yourself, inhaling deep and exhaling slowly, letting him embark on his journey about his ideal cottagecore wifey ‘stay at home and don’t bring disrespect to the family business’ views.

“I’d like you to take a moment and think about the gravity of your actions, if possible. You probably are aware as to why we called you in today. This is not just about having fun or ‘blowing off steam’ as you kids say, no matter how stressful your academic performance might be. I understand the position you’re in is a challenging one,” he says, gesturing with his hand the way a versed politician would. “But it’s imperative to realize that your actions carry consequences far beyond your immediate circumstances.”

“With smartphones and social media nowadays, news spreads like wildfire! Have you perhaps forgotten that your actions reflect not only upon yourself, but upon the entire institution?” He shakes his head. “The position we have extended to you is one of privilege, one you should be utterly grateful for.” The dean presses his hands together, looking at you very thoughtfully. “And one that is to be respected.”

There’s ants in your veins. There must be, otherwise you can’t explain these disgusting prickles running through your body.

“Allow me to get to the point and reiterate this: the typical course of action for this type of indecency, would be none other than undisputable swift expulsion. However, I am inclined to grant you an opportunity to present your side of the matter. Your past professional relationship with the faculty hasn’t been overlooked, therefore I am keen to hear your explanation before we proceed.”

A headache begins to form at the center of your brain sometime during his boring ass monologue, and you start feeling agitated. Your grip on the expensive material of the chair’s arm starts hurting from how tense you feel and your fingers begin cramping up. It’s becoming a real feat to just sit still and not claw the eyeballs out of his skull.

“Allow me to offer you a personal observation,” the dean interjects, the look in his eyes becoming unsettling. “Consider it a word of guidance, from a seasoned individual who has walked this path longer than you have.”

Never in a million years, could you have guessed what the head of the fucking faculty was going to spit at you next. 

“Think of yourself as a lock, my dear.” His voice takes on a disturbing undertone, eyes narrowing as he leans in closer over his desk. “If just anyone can gain access, what does that say about your feminine value?”

If your eyes widened any more, they would surely have popped out of your head by now.

“Excuse me?” You lean forward into your chair, voice quivering slightly as you give him the chance to reconsider his words.

The dean only clears his throat twice and adjusts his tie uncomfortably, his eyes lingering on you with an unsettling intensity as his stubby manicured fingers continue to stroke at his beard.

“You heard me well, young lady,” he says, tone dripping with condescension. “You should not be so careless with your affections. Consider the needs of your future husband! What would he think of you, knowing you’ve shared what should’ve been your purity, so carelessly, so freely?! It’s a shame, really, the lack of modesty among the youth these days. Do young women have no shame anymore?”

Oh god. You feel yourself rapidly becoming nauseous. 

Did this old creep jerk off to Shigaraki’s thread as well?! How un-fucking-believable. 

What was your life, really? What’s going on right now?

You slam your fucking fist against his desk, face flushed crimson with barely-controlled rage, eyes narrowed and teeth bared in a snarl. The old man is startled.

“Now listen here, young lady—”

“No,” you say, throwing your head back and huffing an incredulous laugh. “No, you fucking listen to me, old creep. You listen damn well, before I fucking report you to the education ministry for inappropriate conduct, alright?” Your chest is heaving, voice growing significantly louder.

He’s shut up.

“You wanna get me expelled?” You bend over his desk, an expression of crazed fury painting your features as you look down at the balding old man. The tone of your voice is deceptively calm. “Not only one of your top students, but also the only poor fucking moron in this elitist ass university, who’d let you parade around as you fucking please. Yeah?”

This isn’t the first time you’ve lashed out at teachers or professors, but it’s the first time you’d ever confronted a person of a higher position. Shigaraki is dead set on ruining your life, but you’ll be damned if you let another fucking sleazebag talk down to you right now. 

Especially not this joke of a headmaster, who spends his nights watching student porn, only to slut shame said student the next fucking day.

Your courage to ruin your relationship with the faculty doesn’t stem from meticulous planning. No, you’re not thinking straight right now. You’re reckless, about to ruin everything, and so very angry.

“I’ve been at your fucking beck and call, whenever you needed an idiot to wear your stupid tight uniforms, have I not? ‘Look, kids! Look at this orphan bitch, benefitting from our great scholarship program! Even degenerates with no future prospects will be able to thrive and have the chance to become the best at our institution!” you chirp, followed by a bark of sardonic laughter, and the dean frowns at your audacity.

“Tell me old man, how much money have I made you so far? If you expel me, who is ready to take my place and become your little puppet? You’re not giving me a chance to explain myself because of our great relationship over the years. You’re giving me a chance to say something that’ll save your neck with the board members, over why someone you personally vouched for, would sink the ship like this.”

The dean stands up, fingers trembling with shock and anger, before trying to cut you off, “You’re extremely out of line, Miss, I suggest—”

“I suggest you shut the fuck up and listen veeeeeeery closely to me, okay?” you coo, voice dripping saccharine sweet. “What you and half of this university fucking jerked it off to, is nothing more than revenge porn. You know what that is, right? It’s a crime. A serious one.”

A flash of confusion crosses the dean’s face, making him pinch his eyebrows, and for a second, you feel your gut filling with hope. Maybe he’s not a complete fucking idiot and he’ll understand, after all.

“What? But—” he takes a moment to think before opening his mouth again, old eyes becoming resolute. “That’s completely irrelevant. What matters now, is that you’re jeopardizing the image of the institution and—”

“Aaand, the videos, the contents, were all taken against my consent. Isn’t it funny? I barely turned eighteen the week before that video was taken, haha. I was high and that guy took advantage of me. Do I have to spell it out for you? What he’s done to me?” You smile angrily. “But you don’t care about that, do you? It’s alright, there’s more.” 

You grab the golden nameplate off his desk, and clean it with the sleeve of your hoodie, wiping it down as you feel sweat building up under your armpits. It’s dawning on you how close you are to losing everything. You hope it wouldn’t show.

“Wanna know who’s behind this?” Your smile turns bitter and you place the object back down, taking on a mocking tone, “‘Course you fucking don’t. You’re all imbeciles. But I’ll bet on my entire fucking scholarship that you’ve dealt with him before.”

A scowl forms on the principal’s face, and you could tell he’s at his wit’s end, about to tell you off but deciding to let you go on with your little charade.

“So humor me, okay? How famous of a character is Mr. Shigaraki fucking Tomura, among the members of the board? Must’ve reached your dainty little ears by now, having half his criminal record allegedly happen at this institution, has he not?”

Immediately, the blood drains from the dean’s face.

How… incredible. You only mentioned his fucking name. Seriously?

“Mr. S-Shigaraki.”

“Yep. Mr. fucking Shigaraki. There was a… minor altercation, between him, me and Mr. Reynolds. Then he put me on his little hit list and decided I should never be able to show my face in public anymore. Luckily for you, I don’t have angry rich parents to sue the shit out of this school, which is why you think it’s okay to speak to me like I’m some societal trash.”

And suddenly, an incredible idea comes to you.

“Say, sir. If I get expelled now… and I tell him that I tattled to you, what’s the chance he lets you keep your job, knowing what you know and his family being who it is?” 

You don’t fucking know either, but you’re eager to dig yourself out of this fucking grave.

It’s a really shitty move, one you aren’t sure if it would work, but you’ll be damned if you care anymore. None of these assholes do, anyways, so why should you? 

You’re not a saint, and if people punch down enough times, you’ll start punching back.

The dean closes his eyes and sighs, after which he gets up and turns to the window. He doesn’t kick you out or talk back right away, something that told you he’s weighing his options on which terrible outcome to avoid. Dealing with you or dealing with him.

“After everything we’ve done for you—all the opportunities and the support the faculty has provided you with,” he mutters, sighing again and you think you’re smelling that Fabuloso scent again as you’re about to really throw up. “To behave in such an entitled manner and put my reputation at risk for your own self-serving motives—truly a shame. You bear a striking resemblance to that regrettable excuse of a man.”

“Guess I’ve learned from the best. Or maybe this place is just a breeding ground for assholes like us, huh?” You smile another strained smile, hiding your shaking hand behind your back. 

Did he seriously compare you to Shigaraki of all people? Seriously?

“Do you… think it’s possible to take down the posts and erase any trace of the incident?” the dean asks, already suspecting what the answer would be.

“No, he’s not a fucking idiot. A sock puppet account will pop up somewhere else every time we’d do that. It’ll be like playing virtual fucking whack-a-mole.” You feel your gut twist and you wince, closing your eyes. “That’s what I would do at least. If I were him.” 

“What about involving law enforcement, then?” He turns to face you, hands behind his back. “We’ve handled cases of defamation in the past. The faculty possesses outstanding legal counsel who could assist you in such matters, however I’m not sure if you could…” He looks you up and down and scrunches his nose. “...afford it. But given the circumstances, I suppose we could make an exception.”

You sigh. Who the fuck died and put this clown in charge?

“What about the law enforcement? Hello? Do I have to remind you who we’re dealing with? How many cases were you able to win against him and his dad?” you ask, irritation bubbling up in your throat. Your eyes dart around the room and land on some random shiny trophy collection in his office, feeling like you wanted to go home so badly.

“Professor Reynolds didn’t actually quit,” the dean reveals, unprompted. “It is Mr. Shigaraki who has forced him to… retire. Or rather his father did.” 

Your eyes widen briefly, before going back to your bored expression.

Of course it was.

Why the fuck was he telling you though, when all it did was confirm that your childish threats could actually work. This asshole couldn’t actually be this stupid. There must be another reason.

“That so? Color me fucking impressed,” you mock, rolling your eyes. “You want me to fucking care, when you were so ready to kick me out of the program ten minutes ago? Pathetic, really.”

Images of Taylor and the dean appear in your mind, both fucking comparing you to him. Maybe they are right. Maybe you really are an asshole. 

Maybe the two of you weren’t so different after all. 

Your frown deepens.

“I’ll tell you what, old man. I don’t need your legal counsel nor do I need your help. Publicly suspend me for a week and I’ll pretend you didn’t threaten to expel me. That’s the only way you get to keep sitting on your cozy ergonomic leather throne,” you say, digging a nail into the skin around another. “Since everything is pointed at me, you can keep your hands clean. I’m sure there’s worse things you’ve had to cover up for the more privileged students.” 

You grab your bag that you previously placed next to the chair on the way in, and turn around to leave. 

“One more thing. If you fucking dare to take me off the scholarship program, I might have to handwrite a fucking letter and deliver it straight to Shigaraki’s doorstep. We go down together. Don’t forget that, sir.” 

A flicker of pathetic resignation crosses his face, but you don’t linger, heading outside of the office and feeling stressed beyond belief. 

Moving forward, you’ll have to deal with Shigaraki on your own, but that’s something you were well aware of anyway. 

So you finally let go of your breath. 

You didn’t lose everything yet. You still had some control over the situation. You’re gonna be fine. You have to be.

Closing your eyes, you walk past that bitch of a secretary and into the elevator, heading for the exit with a million thoughts racing through your head.

Did Shigaraki seriously get so butthurt over the professor that he made him quit? Over a warning? It sounds on-brand but something doesn’t add up.

Also, why do people keep mentioning the two of you are alike? He’s a crazy manipulative psychopath! 

Yes, you’ve done vile things in the past, but only when people wronged you! Mostly. The dean was about to hit you with an expulsion, after all the hard work you’ve put into this place! What were you supposed to do? Not drag him down with you? After he told you to stop whoring yourself out? It felt good to put him in his place! Why did it feel good? Why did it feel good to win? 

There’s a rush.

Did he… also feel good playing dirty with his opponents? Is that why he acts the way he does? 

Your hand is trembling on the strap of your bag, feeling yourself smile with a huff.

Of course he does. He’s Shigaraki Tomura, after all.

─────────

You should’ve gone home, but here you are, making good on your promise not to back down from his challenge. 

You’ve got no clue as to how today is going to go or whether or not you’ll be groveling at his feet the way he wants you to, by the time class is over. 

That would not be ideal, but you don’t have the funds to move cities, nor do you actually want to be scared that stalkers and rapists are waiting in front of your door. Your fist clenches at the thought. 

So now you find yourself standing in front of the classroom door, staring holes into it. There’s around five minutes left before the bell rings, but you can’t bring yourself to go in, despite multiple students passing you by and entering themselves.

You can’t fucking do it. You can’t stomach facing him today. You know you should, but you just can’t. 

It could lead to disastrous consequences, but right now, you’re just a coward. With your head dropping low, you release the strap of your bag to grab your hood and cover yourself, turning around and walking away.

Until you bump into someone.

The smell of his distinctly intoxicating and probably unnecessarily expensive cologne hits you first. And here he was, the final boss.

“Ah—aaaAchOO!” You sneeze all over him, the smell of chemicals overwhelming your sensitive nose. 

Did the motherfucker dump the whole bottle on his shirt this morning? You scowl, staring right into his chest and not daring to look up.

“Fuck! Don’t fucking sneeze on me, you idiot!” Shigaraki barks, wiping himself off but not backing away from you. You close your eyes and sigh, one eyebrow slightly twitching.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re standing in my way and you fucking reek. Not my problem.” you say, wiping your nose with the back of your sleeve and you catch a pair of offended red eyes glancing down at himself for a second, before they turn to glare at you. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

You attempt to side-step him, but he’s crowding you, blocking your way. You look around and notice there’s not a single soul besides the two of you.

“Yeah? Well at least half the fuckin’ college isn’t waiting to see my pussy getting pounded every week, bitch. Also, class is this way.”

 Shigaraki sneers at you, pointing towards the cursed door that you wanted to get away from. You roll your eyes, feeling maybe a tinge of sadness at his remark, brows pinching downwards.

“And who’s fucking fault is that, huh?” You place your hands squarely against his chest, making him flinch before giving him a light push. 

It’s met with no resistance. He steps backwards to stabilize his footing. 

Maybe it’s your exhaustion, maybe it’s the earlier rage in the dean’s office, or maybe it’s the way he’s taking your situation lightly, but you can’t stop yourself from provoking him again. 

“Yours, obviously.” He flashes you a playful smile, one you haven’t seen since the first day you’ve properly met him. “It’s ‘kay. At least you’ve got a pretty one. Maybe you should switch career paths and become a pornstar instead. It’ll be hard with all your fucked up scars, but I’d still watch.”

Your frown deepens and he sees hurt in your eyes, making him smile wider. This prompts you to grip the fabric of his thick black hoodie and you shove at him. Hard.

“Whoa—” Shigaraki is taken aback by the sudden force, but surprisingly lets you push him.

“WhOaAa!!!” you mock his stupid fucking voice. 

And then you do it again. You keep shoving him down the hallway, as hard as you possibly can.

For all the fucking stress, the hurt and the pain. For exposing you to thousands of people online. For putting you in danger by convincing people it was okay to harass you. For threatening to do worse. For ruining everything. For ruining everything! 

You feel dizzy and foggy from overdosing on anxiety meds, just so you could barely function today. Just so you wouldn’t be afraid.

Of him. Of the fucking world!

You have no idea when it happened, but tears welled up in your eyes, and no matter how desperately you try to will them away, you’re only about to cry harder. You see flickers of softness in his eyes, as he smiles down at you smugly. 

Until you shove him one final time and he trips on his legs, grabbing your arm and dragging you to fucking hell with him.

“Shit!” You stumble forwards and he catches you, bumping heads in the process. Your eyes are screwed shut and you pull back, rubbing your forehead. It takes you a good moment to process what happened, and when you do, you start panicking.

Fuck! Is he going to be mad and accuse you of assaulting him now? Use his fancy lawyers to charge you with some shit? Is that why he let you push him around? Fuck, fuck, fuck! You don’t have money for a fucking lawyer! Especially not one matching his daddy’s big pockets! You’re so fucking screwed.

Hesitantly, you open your eyes and expect the biggest shit eating grin, one ready to bury you in this massive hole you’ve dug for yourself. 

But the sight that greets you is far from anything like that.

As if reenacted from a shitty romcom flick that you and Taylor had been watching yesterday, you somehow ended up straddling Shigaraki Tomura’s lap. 

He’s leaning back, supporting his upper weight on his elbows, shirt slightly raised and exposing his surprisingly toned pale-skinned torso. It catches your attention and your brows angle downwards.

What the fuck? 

You thought rich boys are supposed to be smooth and cared for, like expensive porcelain. Not littered with endless scars, long lines of white healed tissue competing with those of your own, dark fresh patches of purple all across the visible surface. 

How the fuck did he end up like this?

The soft exhale he lets out wakes you up from your daze, brain finally catching up with the fact that you reached out with both hands, one of them pulling at the shirt to inspect further and the other softly brushing against the skin. 

His body visibly shudders under you, and your eyes snap back to his face, noticing how flushed his cheeks are, his familiar angry crimson-colored eyes looking back at you.

For a moment, he doesn't look invincible anymore. Instead, he looks almost… 

Vulnerable.

You grimace, sobering up and wanting to pull back, to get the fuck off him, but he grabs your wrist before you can, yanking you closer to him and forcing you to feel his warmth, radiating against you. His face is now in front of your own, and you curse under your breath when you involuntarily glance at his dry, parted lips.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you whisper, but your tone holds no bite, voice coming off soft instead. Way less angry than you should’ve been with him.

“I don’t—I don’t know,” he replies, the impulsive action leaving him disorientated as well. 

You’re absolutely fucking baffled, searching his face for any hint of his usual cunningness, anything to give you a reason to snap out of it… but all you could find is confusion.

By the time you regain some of your composure, you become painfully aware of your position. You’re fucking straddling him, sitting snugly against his lap and feeling how hard his—

“Don’t you dare fucking move,” Shigaraki hisses at you, a rosy blush having spread from his cheeks, all the way to his neck when he notices you finally putting two and two together. He needs a moment to calm down, to compose himself. 

But you’re nothing if not a brat.

You glance around, checking for people, but it’s dead quiet and nobody is wandering around during active sessions. 

The two of you are partially obscured by a spare desk and a storage unit and you decide that’s good enough for you. So you smirk at him, giving him a split second to realize his predicament and watch his eyes widen as you roll your hips against him experimentally.

“Aah, f-fuck!” Shigaraki throws his head back, immediately faltering under you at the unexpected stimulation. It sends electricity through your body, and your hips buck again involuntarily, while you feel your cunt clenching around nothing.

“F-Fucking stop, I’m serious!” he uselessly warns you again, voice low and coarse, hands reaching to push you off. Your inner thighs press tightly against his sides to secure yourself, and you snort in reply.

“What’s wrong? Gonna cum in your pants from just a little friction?” you taunt him shamelessly, “Surely, our number one villain can handle a little more action than this. Don’t tell me you’re a pathetic quickshot that gets off on ugly bimbos dry humping him.” 

You watch his furious red eyes wanting—promising—to get back at you, his jaw clenching and his trembling hands hovering over your hips, before tangling his fingers with the fabric covering them, knuckles turning white. 

It does little to scare you, and you fully take advantage of the stun, going ahead and rolling your hips once more, only pressing harder this time. 

You feel the length of his erection against your clothed cunt and you wish you could feel it better, because despite talking a big game you can’t help but shiver every time your clit is pressed against his dick, regardless of the layers of clothing that separated you.

“Fuck—I said stop it!” His eyes shut tight as he tries and fails to shove you off of him. He’s breathing heavy and quick, the sight of his flustered face only spurring you on. 

You grab his shaky wrists and lean yourself in, pressing his hands flat on the ground and pinning him under you. He opens his eyes and stares at you in a daze. It makes you feel powerful like this. 

You’re on top of Shigaraki Tomura, the guy who desperately wants to completely and utterly destroy you.

You slow down, almost coming to a halt and you huff over his face, smiling angrily. “Did you fucking stop when I told you to? When I begged you to?”

It doesn’t matter, because you don’t give him time to answer, opting to pick up the pace instead, and feeling frustrated because it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough, but he’s not the only one losing control. 

You watch him pant under you, letting you take what you want and doing his fucking best to not spill himself inside his pants because of you, and that thought excites you. 

It excites you so much, you start feeling pleasure pooling up in your lower abdomen. Your back arches slightly and you fail miserably to hold back your own pathetic voice from moaning above him. It feels—feels really fucking good. You want him to get you off, and that thought leaves you as aroused as you felt disgusted, the mix of emotion quickly overwhelming you.

“Y-You—You fucking—hnngh! You fucking brat!” Shigaraki groans, digging his nails into his palms as he lets you move, struggling not to come undone but feeling painfully close every time you move your fucking hips. Every time you spoke to him. 

His head is reeling, watching you hump him like an animal, seeing you getting off on him. Because of him.

And he wants so much more.

In a moment of weakness, you feel his hands slip away from your hold, creeping up on your thighs, but before you can really catch on, he rolls you off of him and onto your back, desperately pressing—slotting himself between your legs again. 

You look up at him in a daze, gasping when he begins moving against you, quickly regaining control over the situation. He looks at you, panting, the sight of your brows pinching and your soft whimpers turning him almost feral. Shigaraki swallows hard.

Were you always this fucking cute?

“You do understand that—haah—there’s going to—there’s going to be consequences to your actions, don’t you?” he groans against your ear, pulling back and grinning slyly, stretching the scars on his lips and you feel his hands shake against your thighs before gripping them tightly and rutting against you more violently. 

It hurts. But it hurts really fucking good, and you’ll never admit how easily he’d be able to push you over with just his stupid fucking voice. You’ll never admit it, but your body is traitorous, and he can see what he’s doing to you. 

Shigaraki then fucking kisses you, a tentative rough peck on your soft lips, if only to silence your growing cries. A new feeling then arises within him, and it’s a dark realization. Nobody else should be allowed to hear you like this. Nobody but him.

You gasp when he bites your lip and he takes it as permission to slip his tongue in, rolling it over your own with little to no technique, teeth clicking while he sinfully swallows your depraved moans. Anyone could hear you but you’re too fucking dumb to care right now, the prospect filling him up with giddiness as he’s enthusiastically devouring you.

He eventually slows down, lips barely touching yours as you manage to catch your breath. A needy groan escapes you when he leans in to bite your neck so hard, you think it’ll leave a mark. Shigaraki smiles against your throat and you feel it—feel him being on top of the world. 

Just a second longer, he thinks. 

A second longer before he’ll take you to the back of his car and fuck you senseless where no one can interrupt you. 

“Hey, shh. You don’t wanna get caught while we’re in the hallway, do you? Unless you’re into that, you nasty little bi—”

Your eyes widen and in an instant, you shove him off of you.

It takes him by surprise, but it doesn’t matter to you, because what the actual fuck were you doing? 

In public. 

With him!

“Hey,” he says, voice low as to not startle you further, obvious concern on his face. You don’t pay attention because you’re busy stumbling backwards, finding your bag and standing up on shaky legs.

“No. No, no, no—” 

A panic attack sets you off and you step backwards like a wounded animal.

“Wait. Wait! Don’t fucking go—! Goddamn it, just—wait!” Shigaraki gets up and reaches for you, but you’re quick to pull away, bolting for the exit and out of his reach. Always just out of his reach. Both of his hands move to his throat to dig into that familiar itch, to scratch it until there’s nothing but blunt pain and blood under his fingernails.

Tomura feels hurt. You were so good for him a moment ago, as was he for you. 

Why are you acting this way now? Why are you rejecting him—again? 

He desperately tries to push this feeling down, to not let it surface, but he isn’t clueless as to what it is exactly that he felt. He just doesn’t want to admit it. Or rather was taught not to admit to it, to this weakness.

He has to destroy it. To own it.

Why is it that you’re so fucking different? He didn’t expect to feel or act any differently with you than he did with everyone else who pissed him off before. 

So he’d put you in a box, where you sit comfortably next to everything he’s not able to categorize, like his indescribable fear of dogs. 

That’s right, you’re a fucking anomaly. 

But unlike the other ones that he stores in this box, he doesn’t want to destroy you anymore. 

On the contrary, Tomura would like to conquer you. To own you. 

That’s the kind of anomaly you are. An anomaly he—

Tomura’s breath hitches, hands stopping the self-inflicted abuse and dropping at his sides as his eyes widen.

An anomaly he likes.

[maddiehu7]

One shot ( castielxreader )

Warning : smut

Rating : mature

Summary : The Winchesters go out on a dangerous hunt and send cas to watch there little sister back at the bunker except he dose a little more than watch

"I don't need anybody to watch me cas I'm 23" I say looking at him annoyed

"Sorry y/n Dean and Sam in trusted me to look after you so I'm staying" he says with an apologetic look on his handsome face, I start getting mad but then I think maybe this could be fun

"Fine but if your staying then we're gonna have some fun" I say smiling mischievously cas swallows his Adam's apple bobbing up and down which is all manners of hot instead of grabbing him and kissing him like I want to I say

"I'll be right back" smiling I walk away to my room to grab every board and card game I could find and bring it all back to cas who has a confused look on his face

"Game night!" I shout plopping all the games on the table in front of cas who's sitting down looking at the games quizzically

"What is this stuff" he says bringing one of the games towards him

"Don't tell me you've never heard of board games" I say in dramatic shock putting my hand to my heart

"No" cas says looking embarrassed I smile he's so cute

"Well that changes tonight" I pull a chair over next to him and sit down I notice cas inhale sharply at the close proximity and smirk to myself, I pick up monopoly and hold it up to him and smile

~~~~~~time skip~~~~~~

"Ugh not fair! how do I run out of money every time" I say frowning flopping back in my seat cas smiles in victory

"Another round?" Cas asks I look over at him with a "really" look on my face he laughs

"It's getting late anyway don't you need sleep?" he says

"Night owl like my brothers i guess" I say looking over at him I meet his gorgeous crystal blue eyes and get lost in them before I hear him calling my name

"You ok" I snap out of my trance and nod blushing

"Why is your face red" cas says confusion written on his face I get even redder more embarrassed that he noticed

"Um noth-nothing" I stutter and get up saying I need to get a glass of water I speed walk into the kitchen facing the sink I put my hands on ether side of it and close my eyes taking a deep breath suddenly I feel a breeze behind me when I turn around I see cas looking down at me

"Oh uh hey cas whatcha doing" he just keeps looking into my eyes quizzically like he was studying my every emotion I wonder what he's thinking when I look away he pulls my face back by my chin

"Cas" I whisper he slowly leans into me closing his eyes and pushing his lips against mine I tense us not knowing if this is a good idea but after a couple seconds I can't help but relax into his kisses I moan softly opening my mouth more enabling him to push his hot wet tongue into my mouth who knew making out with an angel could feel so dirty, he suddenly pulls away to which I groan from the loss of contact

"Are you sure you want this" he looks at me seriously caressing my face softly I nod eagerly going to kiss him again when he pulls away

" I need to hear you say it y/n" he says looking me in the eyes

"Yes please cas" he smirks lowly

"Good girl" a pool of wetness spreads between my legs with just those 2 words coming from his godly mouth

"Fuck me" I sigh loudly his smirk widens

"Soon but for now" he says in his deep baritone voice before reaching down to kiss me again I smash my lips against his desperate for any kind of touch from this teasing angel he smiles through our kiss his hands run up and down my curves settling at my hips where he lifts me up onto the counter as if I weigh nothing I yelp in surprise which makes him laugh

"Oh shut up" I say laughing back before pulling him back into me grasping at the baby hairs on his neck he groans making me even more turned on he starts playing with the hem of my shirt before finally lifting it over my head looking at my body like no one ever has before I start to feel self conscious and go to cover up with my hands

"No don't, your the most beautiful thing I've ever had the pleasure of looking at" he says pushing my hands away I smile shyly at him not believing how lucky I got to have him in my life, he looks all over my body running his hands over my stomach grasping my hips and pulling me into him so that our bodies are pressed tightly together

"Your turn" I say he looks confused until i push his coat off his muscular shoulders I start unbuttoning his shirt slowly with my forehead pressed against his when I reach the bottom I pull back pushing his shirt of him softly admiring every part of his chest I start exploring his heavenly body with my hands touching every part of him I could he inhales throwing his head back closing his eyes in pleasure I look up at him loving the expression on his face I jump down which makes him look back down at me I grab his hips and switch our positions he looks at me wondering what I'm doing I look up at him smirking, I lean into his neck peppering kisses up and down his throat putting my hands on his shoulders running them up and down his chest scratching him lightly he groans looking at me with so much lust in his eyes it sends a shiver down my spine I lower myself onto my knees slowly kissing around his chest on the way down I put my hands on both his thighs looking at him silently asking for permission he nods yes practically begging me to continue I smirk putting my hands on his belt buckle undoing it painfully slow I pull it out of the loops throwing it somewhere to the side I then go to his pants undoing them equally as slow

"Y/n please" he begs me to hurry, for something anything

"Patiences cas" I continue smirking up at him he groans lowly I finally undo his pants and pull them down with his underwear making his cock bounce free, god he's big I think to myself, I slowly lean towards him licking the tip slowly making cas gasp feeling my wet tongue on him after all the anticipation was better than heaven I move my mouth to take him all using my hand for the part I couldn't fit sucking him slowly my hand rubbing him up and down looking up at him I see him looking at me a moaning mess grasping my hair in his hands guiding me up and down he holds me at the base of him a little to long making me choke he let's go a little allowing me to breathe its so hot seeing him submissive and dominant at the same time I reach down to touch myself before he pulls me off him in a huff

"No y/n let me do that let me touch you" he says breathing heavy I nod standing up he runs his hands down the back of my thighs picking me up I wrap my legs around his naked waist having shorts on I can feel his cock poking my thigh and inhale deeply kissing him hard he walks with me over to the couch and lays me down slowly falling down with me he slides one hand up my body till he reaches the backside of my bra unclasping it throwing it to the side he pulls back to look at me his mouth parting slightly his eyes roaming my breasts he moves his hand to cup my breast massaging it flicking my harding nipple I moan loudly him watching my every move in delight he slowly moves his hand lower and lower till he reaches my shorts waistband playing with the fabric there

"Come on cas please" I say whiningly

"Patience y/n" he smirks using my own words against me what an ass I think trying to hide my smile, he finally pulls my shorts down with my underwear leaving me bare infront of this gorgeous man he looks at my wet pussy lowering himself to face me

"Father your amazing" he sighs out I smile down at him he lowers himself more and kisses my clit slowly I groan throwing my head back in pleasure

"Fu-fuck" I mutter from the built up pleasure he smirks into me licking my pussy with expertise he brings his fingers up to me massaging my clit well licking me up and down slowly, sensually he looks up into my eyes groaning seeing the pleasure he was bring me it vibrated right through me almost making me cum on the spot he notices and pulls of me making me whine

"Not yet I wanna cum together" he crawls up my body pushing my legs up around his waist

"How are you so good at this" I laugh breathless he smiles down at me his hand goes to his cock he looks at me asking for permission

"Yes" I whisper practically begging him he smiles and leans his head against mine he leads his cock to my entrance pushing in slowly making sure not to hurt me we both groan out loudly as he sheathes himself in me fully he pulls back to look me in the eyes as he starts pushing in and out of me we both turn into moaning messes fast as he starts going at me harder and harder with angelic speed he suddenly flips me over with a flick of his hand and starts pounding into me from the back he grabs my hair with his hand pulling my head up I moan loudly as he's huffing out groans left and right I start to feel my orgasm build and build until he leans over me and turns my head with the hand that's in my hair and kisses me still thrusting into me suddenly my orgasm rushes over me taking me by surprise I groan out into his mouth loudly I squeeze his cock tightly as my orgasm rakes my body at this he thrusts hard a few more times before cuming right after me spilling his seed in me moaning loudly he thrusts softly a few times to ride us down from our highs beofre pulling out laying down beside me

"Your amazing you know that" he smiles into my neck I laugh spent

"Mh maybe" I say smiling he laughs with me he snaps his finger and a blanket appears he spreads it around the both of us cuddling into me I smile I could get use to this

"I love you y/n" he says looking at me nervous of what I'll say back

"I love you to cas" I say smiling brighter than I ever remember being able to he leans his forehead into mine smiling with me we both fall into a comfortable sleep

[viking-goat-420]

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Crowley/reader

Rating: Smut

Title: His Queen

'after returning from a hunt your nightly costume sets Crowley off.

A/N: I know it's a bit late I have another Crowley fic in the works but this has been in my mind so I had to get it out. As always requests are open.

You hated Halloween with a passion. It was like a free for all. All the monsters came out and everyone would think it was just a costume. And that's how you ended up at this party. You thought it would have been a funny joke to dress up like a demon but also like a queen. Sam and Dean didn't find it funny as you were dating the king of hell but you loved the outfit and you knew so would Crowley.

After some time the monster you guys was after was hunted and killed and now you are back at your hotel room with the boys having their own. You sigh and groan as you stretch and your back pops happily.

"Hello darling, you look mouth watering" you smirk and turn to face Crowley who was standing on the other side of the room.

"Yeah? I had to dress up for the hunt" you grin watching as he walks closer to you. Crowley strokes your face softly. and you grin.

"Tell me pet, what is this costume of yours?"

"Oh this? Queen of hell" you smirk, Crowley's eyes flash red and you feel heat flood to your cunt when his hand grabs your throat and his body is molded to yours.

"Queen of hell? Is that what you want? To be my queen?" He growls eyes still red and you smirk your hand goes to your throat where his hand is holding lightly and you pull it away and turn him to sit in the chair before straddling him.

"Is that what you want? Want me to be your sluty little queen for you" you ask softly in his ear before nipping his lobe and slowly roll your hips on his rock hard cock covered by his suit pants. Crowley's hands move to your hips as you hump him moaning at the fricken.

"You have always been my sluty queen, you're so good for me darling, dry humping me I can feel how wet you are" he growls his hands on your hips as you roll them. You were soaking wet and haven't even touched you yet.

"Crowley, my king please" you moan, feeling closer and closer to cumming. Crowley leans forward a bit and bites and sucks at your neck leaving marks behind as his hands travel your body undoing ties letting your body free of the costume.

"What do you want, my Queen?" He asks huskyly in your ear before biting the lobe making you grind down harder and you whine.

"Fuck me, fuck me hard leave marks all over me so everyone knows who I belong too" you moan an he holds your hips still before grinding up into you. He was rock hard, you lean down and kiss him nipping his bottom lip and he growls before using his powers to remove both of your clothes.

"As my Queen wishes" he smirks, before you know it you both are on the bed with Crowley laying over you, he fits perfectly between your legs. His mouth was all over your body leaving bites and marks as he worked his way down your body to your soaked cunt.

"Crowley!" You moan as his mouth latches onto your clit sucking and working his tongue on you. He looks up at you from between your legs as he eats you out your hands holding his head. Without warning he shoved his tongue deep inside of you making your toes curl making you cum without warning.

"I love how good you taste" he smirks, kissing up your body. Crowley kisses you deeply as he grinds his hard cock into you.

"Please Crowley" you beg, needing him deep inside of you. Crowley growls as he slowly slides into and you both moan at the feeling.

"Always so tight and wet for me darlin" he groans as he starts at a slow pace. You lean up and kiss him deeply before flipping him on his back putting you on top.

"I wanna ride you first" you moan your head falling back as you start to ride him. Crowley's hands move up to your breasts before leaning up and sucking on your nipple making you grind down harder. He uses this moment to flip you back over. You moan as the change makes him go even deeper.

"Later darling, right now I want to feel you come undone under me" he growls, his hips thrusting hard and deep making you cry out your nails digging into his back.

"Fuck Crowley!" You cry out as he fucked you deeply the bed hitting the wall with each thrusts. Crowley groans as you tighten around him.

"I plan on fucking you all night, by the time I am done you will not be leaving this bed my Queen" he growls between each thrust making you moan and cling to him.

"Oh fuck I'm gonna cum!" You cry out as you feel the knot get tighter and tighter until it finally snaps and you cum hard on his cock. Crowley fucks you through your orgasm before he pulls out and flips you over.

"Get ready darling this is just the start" he growls, grabbing your hair and starting round two.

[notinthislife50]

Chapter 28

Previous Chapter

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You reached the roadhouse, slipped quietly in and packed your bag, and left no word to anyone. You thought that by moving here,  you would have a better life. But this was something you couldn't get your head around.  You uncovered your bike, jumped on it, and disappeared from everyone.

You sat on the chair screaming,  though your voice was not heard, your body sat silently, calmly, and sickeningly admiringly watching the man pacing in front of you.

“Let's be nice to our guest darling,” The man smiled at you,  caressing your cheek.

“Castiel, brother“ he welcomed the man,  who was standing in a circle of fire.

Castiel looked at you "Y/N,  I am here with the Winchesters” but no emotion came from you.

“You won't get much out of her” Lucifer smiled “I've had a few months to work my charm on her, ” he grinned at Castiel,  walking behind you and placing his chin on your head, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. Making you sneer in disgust inside your head.

“You can't have her or Sam Winchester” Casitel stated, “ I am not going to let you have any of them.”

Lucifer turned you to face him and held you in his arms,  as he leaned in to kiss you he heard a voice yell “Hey!”

You both turned and saw Sam “You wanted to see me?“ he commanded.

“He came,” you gleefully looked to Lucifer.

“Sam,  no need for weapons here,  we won't hurt you, we love you” Lucifer tried to diffuse him and pushed you towards him. As you stretched out your arms to embrace the man, a voice came from behind you.

“Yea, but maybe I kill her” Dean grabbed you pointing a gun to your head, then at Lucifer and pulled the trigger, causing Lucifer to drop to the ground.

"You won't kill me,  you love her too much “ you laughed turning to face Dean,  your eyes turning black. "And guess what,  you didn't kill him either,” You smiled wide.

Dean tried to comprehend your words for a second then he heard Lucifer cough “Okay owww, where did you get that?” he asked, rising to his feet.

“Don't feel too bad Sammy,  the colt can't kill me. I'm one of the only five things it can't kill” Lucifer said turning to face him “ But I knew you weren't going to make it easy for me and just say yes “ he stood looking at Sam “ I mean, even after I got you the perfect wife"  he looked over at you winking.

"You see I may need your permission to be my vessel,  but I certainly don’t need hers to sire my children, shame though the girl is spitfire really put up a hell of a fight that I had to call in reinforcements. Though when the time comes,  I would have loved to see what that was like in bed. Without the demon." Looking at Dean and grinning, taunting him.

“It's never gonna happen,  me or her” Sam shouted at him.

“Really Sam,  I think it's gonna happen and I think it’s going to happen soon,  you will say yes to me, but to show you I am a nice guy I'll give her back,  but make no mistake you are both mine and I will come for you, both of you.” you felt the sensation of your body falling to the floor and then darkness.

You awoke in Bobby's house “Thank fuck, I knew you would find me.“ you sighed in relief.

But as you looked around the room the mood was unsettling. No one would meet your eye.

“Dean,  I promise that wasn't me I didn't say yes” You got up and held his hands trying to convince him, pleading with him.

But what he did next surprised you “I know sweetheart I know, I'm so sorry” You felt his tears on your head and then his lips softly brushing your temple.

You looked between them, panic building up inside of you “ What's going on,  what happened?”

But no one answered.

“Someone to talk to me" your voice raised, breaking away from Dean "Please." you pleaded.

“Y/N,” Dean said lowly “It's Jo and Ellen,”

“No “ you pointed at him angrily “ Don't you dare say what I think you're going to say.”

“Y/N,” Bobby said softly.

You span round to face him, Shaking your head from side to side, tears streaming down your face.

“No Bobby, I don't believe you, It's not true” you cried. "it can't be true. They are the only family I have"

You looked frantically between the four men, hoping they would take it back, begging it was some kind of mistake.

But their heads were bowed not looking at you. Even the angel wouldn’t look at you.  You heard Sam sniff and saw tears fall from his face.

Then you felt Dean's arms grab you, "No" you slapped him away "your lying, I don't believe you."

He tried again to hold you but you pushed him back and ran out the front door, vomited, and screamed until your throat was sore.

You felt Dean wrap his arms around you “I'm so sorry baby girl,  I'm so sorry,”

But you had no words, just tears.

“I want to be alone Dean” you whispered.

Dean reluctantly walked away. When you were alone, you took the photo from your wallet and stared at it, the only family you had. You took your lighter and burned it. You stomped on it with your boot with anger and you left.

@deansgirl79 @suckitands33 @deans-baby-momma @dragony937 @linzerrr @deans-spinster-witch @foxyjwls007 @mikaylalala13 @jackles010378 @fraidoftedark 

[dawn-petrichor-world]

Dean Winchester's wife

Summary: They finally meet an old friend but in unusual way.

A/N: I was inspired by “Haunted House” by Neoni but not for this fic, this popped into my brain seconds later. I have to write the fics (and many others) that I don’t send the ideas to my lovely @holylulusworld . Yes, title and fic are inspired by one of "The Doctor Who" episodes.

914 words not proofread

Warnings: car accident (and nothing else I think)

Sam and Dean were in the Impala driving back home to the Bunker. The case they worked on was really long, hard and exhausting. For the first hours, Sam was driving but had to switch with his big brother to take a nap. While Dean was driving a few minutes later after he switched off the seat, he suddenly could see a cold air coming out from his mouth. His little brother was almost asleep, jolted when he too realized his cold breath. They looked at each other concerned, knowing the meaning. Dean decided to pull over on the side of the road but had to hit the break abruptly because someone from nowhere appeared in front of them. A bright light blinded them for seconds that seems minutes then it disappeared on that third person. The guys tried to find the way out of the car, to understand what happened.

- “What the fuck was that?” screamed Dean. “What was that? Did you see what I hit on? Don’t tell me it was a fuckin deer? I can’t see shit. Where come this light from.”

- “Can you stop screaming? We’re temporarily blind not deaf.” said Sam.

- “Temporarily? How could you know it’s not permanent?” asked Dean still screaming.

- “Because I'm in front of the body and it doesn't look like a deer that you crashed on.”

- “Oh, thanks” He sighed in relief. “So what the fuck it was?” he yelled again.

- “Turn around. Step forward, go on. Almost there. Okay stop. Now get down.” Sam punched Dean’s chest which made him fall and lightly hit the front of the car. “I told you to stop screaming jerk.”

- “You Bitch.” Dean rubbed his head while he came back on his feet but he stopped midway when he hardly saw a dark shape on the road floor. “That’s a fuckin…” he started screaming. “a fuckin human. I hit a human.” He finished saying in a normal voice tone.

Sam grabbed the body in his arms and put it in the back seat of the Impala. Dean not quite happy, looked for some water and a first aid kit but mysteriously it wasn’t useful. No broken bones, no blood out, or even scratches. Nothing.

He blinked several times and rubbed his eyes to be sure if they were good because he could clearly see and he didn’t make this up. He felt his car hit something but there was nothing else around after checking out the car's windows once his sight came back to normal. He put two fingers on the wrist of the body first and then on the jugular. Blood was pumping, meaning still alive.

On their way to the Bunker, Dean brought the unknown person to a room and fell asleep on the bed next to them, hard to release himself, they were tightly gripped to him.

The next day, a thud woke up everyone. Dean was alone on the bed, he sat up and saw his brother, who had slept on a chair next to him, looking in his direction. They looked on the other side of the bed, still there, real and laying on the floor the uninvited guess.

- “It’d be nice if both stop to stare at me like I was an alien! This thing doesn’t work properly.” you said. Dean and Sam exchanged a glance and lift you up.

- “Hello, my name is Sam. Maybe you’re wondering what happened last night and where you are.”

- “Not at all.” you replied watching and wiggling your bare feet on the floor.

- “Can you tell why did you throw yourself on my car?” asked Dean.

- “I didn’t, she did.”

- “She?” repeated Sam.

- “We were headed home. It was dark and she jumped from nowhere and now I’m here, talking to you.” you replied still playing with your toes. When you lift the head smiling big, the brothers looked again at each other totally confused.

- “I don’t understand anything.” said the elder.

- “This is strange how the perspectives are not the same anymore. Like, I know you’re tall but not that tall. And you, I remember your hands but their look different.”

- “What the fuck are you talking about?”

- “Baby.” you said, hands on your chest. “Oh! Interesting.” you added while palpating it. “My bumpers are bigger.”

- “Can you stop doing that?” asked Sam embarrassed, covering his eyes instead of his brother who still watching.

- “I feel more fragile in this thing that's why my bumpers are big. More secure to save lives, right?”

- “Enough! We asked questions, so answer us. Who the fuck are you? Where do you from and why did you try to kill yourself?” said Dean, a bit irritated while he grabbed too tight your arms.

- “I already told you. Oh, that’s for the navigation, my steering wheel? But that doesn’t look round and why have I two of them? I don’t understand how it works.” you said, jiggling back and forth and side by side but screamed after Dean accidentally stepped on one of your feet. “That’s how you activate my horn. It hurts. It didn’t hurt before.”

You walked weirdly out of the room, leaving the guys more confused than yesterday until out of view, Sam yelled baby, you peeked your head between the frame to say “Yes, that’s what your big brother called me. Hi!”

Thanks for reading it. Hope you like it. My Masterlists. My SPN Masterlists.

[minefield-of-a-ninja]

28 DAYS: CHAPTER SIX

Summary: Dean Winchester is an addict and an alcoholic, a USMC veteran, a father, and an older brother. As Battalion Chief with Lawrence Fire & Medical, Dean comes under investigation when he makes a dangerous and impulsive decision, defying his superiors and abandoning the team he is supposed to lead. He is given a choice to go to rehab for 28 days or jail. His lawyer insists on rehab, and Dean begrudgingly abides.

Chapter Characters: Dean Winchester, Cain, Meg Masters, Billie (Pilgrim), Pamela Barnes, Crowley, Gabriel, Rowena, Sam Winchester, Ellen Harvelle

Chapter Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, mention of self-harm 

Words in this chapter: 3,600

Thank you and all my love to @brrose-apothecary and @stusbunker

text divider by @talesmaniac89

CHAPTER SIX

“When do your boys arrive, Pamela?” Rowena is solemn yet curious, settling in the chair beside Pamela at the breakfast table.

“Ten.”

Earlier that morning, Pamela joined Dean and Meg for what is quickly becoming their daily pre-breakfast hike and smoke, but she’s been unusually quiet, replying to questions with short answers and no eye contact. Dean and Meg have stuck by her side, regardless, while continuing to give her room to breathe.

“Well, you know we’re all here for you, dear.” Rowena reaches across the table and pats Pamela’s hand as she glances around the circle of patients who’ve bonded together out of shared trauma, loneliness, and necessity. “Aren’t we?”

Dean arches a brow at Rowena who seems to be scowling at him until he hears Crowley grumble at his side.

“This is my last full day in this Hellscape. I don’t plan to do anything to compromise my discharge.” 

“How incredibly generous and kind of heart,” Gabe snarks from Crowley’s other side. 

Dean snorts before stabbing a chunk of breakfast sausage to pop into his mouth.

Pamela’s tension radiates beside him, forcing him to realize that soon he will be in the same position as hers. 

Everyone’s recovery plan is unique to them. While Dean’s prescribed timeline is 28 days, Pamela’s is 60. Dean sees Billie one hour per day, and Gabe only sees her “when needed.” That said, they all attend group daily, and everyone has Family Weekend — 48 hours of being reminded by their loved ones of how royally they fucked up.

“I’m, uhh...” Pamela pushes away from her untouched bagel and coffee. “I’ll see you guys in a few hours.”

Dean turns and reaches for her wrist as she stands. “You sure? Want us to come with?”

Meg shakes her head from Pamela’s other side, and Pamela pulls her hand from Dean’s grasp. “No.”

Pamela walks away from the table, leaving Dean anxious. “So, you’re OK that we just sit by and watch?” 

Meg shuffles over to pilfer Pamela’s abandoned seat and food. “Admitting the nature of our wrongs in front of God and everybody is part of the whole process.”

Dean watches Pamela disappear through the door of the cafeteria, tense and resentful of the rules. He wants to help. She needs somebody to tell her that everything’s going to be OK. It feels wrong to sit by and let her suffer.

“Fuckin’ brutal, man.” He turns back to his plate and grabs his coffee to take a swig. “Gah, it’s like fuckin’ battery acid.”

“Creamer,” Meg says around a mouthful of bagel and cream cheese as she pushes the bowl of tiny creamer pods toward him.

“Gross.” Dean’s lip curls. “Do you want me to puke?”

“I’m offering a simple solution.” Meg smears jam on top of the existing mound of cream cheese, and Dean shakes his head.

“Where do you put all this food?” He marvels at Meg eating like a linebacker while remaining the approximate size of a wood nymph.

“In mah belleh,” she says before taking another massive bite of her second breakfast.

Dean chuckles and rolls his eyes, looking back at the door after Pamela’s long gone. “But, seriously, don’t you wish we could do something to help?”

Meg tilts her head and chews thoughtfully then swallows before answering this time. “I don’t. But I’m not you.” She pauses and watches as Dean pushes his food around his plate. “You can’t save everyone, Dean.”

Dean’s glad that Crowley left five minutes ago and that Gabe and Rowena are huddled in some kind of awkward mating ritual. He’s also glad they’re having this conversation now and not two weeks ago or last month. Realistically, if he and Meg had met two weeks ago or last month, he’d be telling her to mind her own fucking business and/or have her bent over the nearest hip-high surface, fucking the condescension out of her.

But Meg isn’t condescending to him, she’s just being honest.

He isn’t ready for that topic of discussion, though, so he keeps his mouth shut and finishes his breakfast.

“OK, Bodhi,” Cain starts. “I want you to tell your mom, ‘when you do drugs, this is what happens’, OK?”

Bodhi’s Pamela’s youngest. Dean guesses he’s 6 or 7 years old. The little boy nods and then turns to face Pamela straight on where they’re both sitting in the center of the circle.

“When you do drugs, you don’t do any of the fun stuff you used to do.”

His small, garbled voice confirms the kind of confusion and sadness that comes from being abandoned by a parent. 

“That’s good, Bodhi,” Cain commends before forging ahead. “Be specific, now. What was fun?”

“Well, she’d play games with us.”

Bodhi’s looking at Cain like he’s the answer to the meaning of life. He looks like Pamela; he has her eyes, and his hair is dark like hers. But Bodhi still holds out for so much hope, and the kid wears it on his sleeve.

“Tell your mom, Bodhi,” Cain gently nudges.

Bodhi nods and draws a deep breath. “When you’d play games with us and do puzzles — that was fun. And... you don’t do that when you do drugs.”

Dean’s eyes sting, so he blinks rapidly. He shifts in his chair to refocus on his friend and sees that Pamela is quietly crying.

“A purple horse, huh?” Mary asks as she trims the crust from Dean’s PB&J and places it on a plate with a handful of grapes. 

“Yeah, like in Wizard of Oz!”

Mary laughs, turning to bring the small plate and a glass of milk to the table. “A horse of a different color, very good, honey.”

They watched The Wizard of Oz the weekend before. Dean was thrilled and terrified. Mary took extra time to explain everything to him and to convince him that witches and flying monkeys weren’t real and that he was safe. She concentrated on the colors and the songs so that he could pick all the things he liked about the movie.

“Can we play Chutes and Ladders after lunch?” Dean asks, replacing the purple crayon in the box and pushing it all aside for his sandwich.

“Of course, we can.” Mary smiles.

Watching Pamela endure her son’s admission is as grueling as Dean expected it to be. He wants to tell Cain to stop this cruel and unusual punishment, but then Pamela’s smiling and hugging Bodhi.

“That was really good, Bodhi. Thank you.” Cain says. “Pamela, do you have anything else you’d like to say before Jesse speaks?”

Pamela’s smile conquers her tears. Dean hopes that she’ll say something inspirational. He needs it and assumes she does as well.

She pulls back, cradling Bodhi’s face in her hands. “Thank you, pumpkin. I love you. I’ll keep working for you and your brother, I promise.”

Dean closes his eyes and breathes. 

“That’s great, Pamela. Wonderful. OK, Jesse, do you want to tell your mom about the drawing you made this morning?”

Jesse nods, waving the picture in the air as he gets up from outside the circle so that he and Bodhi can switch seats. He settles in, looking everywhere but at his mom. 

“It’s of me and Bodhi,” he says. “Home late at night, and Mom’s not there.”

Jesse finally looks at Pamela. The kid’s angry. He’s older than Bodhi by at least four years, and despair is starting to take hold of him.

“Now tell your mom how that makes you feel when she’s not there,” Cain encourages.

“Worried,” Jesse answers, fidgeting in his seat as he drops his gaze and the drawing to his lap.

“What else, Jesse?” Cain pushes.

Dean’s chest tightens as he watches Pamela’s body language close off.

“I dunno... lonely,” Jesse mumbles.

“Anything else?”

“Scared.”

When Jesse looks up again, he’s expressionless, and Dean swallows the bile that threatens to hurl from his stomach.

“Daddy?” Dean calls to his dad from the hallway.

He’s not supposed to go into his dad’s room unless it’s an emergency. Dean doesn’t know if it is an emergency, but Sam’s been crying since the big hand was on the two and now it’s almost back around to the twelve.

“Daddy?” Dean ducks into John’s room and tiptoes to the foot of the bed. He can hear John breathing and smell a sour odor that makes his stomach churn.

“Sammy’s crying a lot and his face is hot. He won’t take his bottle.”

John doesn’t stir, but Dean is paralyzed with fear. He can’t make his feet move to take another step closer or to touch his dad. He’s afraid of how angry John will be that he came into his room without permission, he’s alone, and he’s worried that something is really wrong with Sam.

Sam’s cries become louder, and the room starts to spin around Dean. Something in his roiling gut pushes him to make a decision. He leaves John’s room, closes the door behind him, and turns the corner to go pick up his baby brother. He carries Sam with him to the kitchen, climbs up onto the chair by the phone, and dials the number at the top of the list on the wall.

“Hello,” a familiar and warm woman’s voice answers.

“Hi.” He pauses, not sure what to say. “This’s... Dean Winchester.”

“Dean, well, hi honey — everything alright?”

Dean looks into his brother’s tear-streaked face and shakes his head.

“Dean, honey, is that Sammy cryin’?”

Dean nods.

“Honey? I can’t hear you, but you stay right there, OK? Bobby and me’ll be right there. Don’t go anywhere.” 

After Pamela’s public humiliation and Dean’s subsequent descent into unwelcome remembrances from his past, the group breaks for lunch. Pamela eats with her boys and her mom, and Dean tries not to stare from where he sits with Meg and Gabe.

“Gabriel, you’re literally a compulsive liar, and I am literally a prostitute; flattery will get you nowhere, especially when it comes to baked goods.”

“But Key Lime’s my fave pie, Meggs.”

“Yeah, well this isn't pie, it’s cheesecake, and cheesecake’s my favorite. Piss off.” 

Dean looks down at his tray. The item in question, whether cheesecake or pie, is wholly unappealing to him. 

“Are you two arguing over this toxic waste-colored pile of goo?”

They both look at him in astonishment. “Dean-o Marino, my man, for a strapping young buck such as yourself, I find it shocking that you don’t have a better appetite.”

Gabe reaches for the plate before Dean can even remove it from his tray. 

“Just hurry up, you little gremlin,” Meg says. “Group’s in five, and it’s Jack’s turn to share today.”

Jack’s in the center of the circle where Pamela and her boys were earlier today. Once a week, group therapy is focused on one person’s story. Today is Jack’s day.

“I especially identify with Robin — compared to Batman at least, but more Jason Todd’s Robin than Dick Grayson’s.”

Dean listens with intent. Jack doesn’t offer much explanation to Dean regarding his comics, but from the way he devours them — like they’re extra pieces of those candies he loves so much — Dean knows that they’re important. 

“I’m not a fan of all graphic novels, but Batman and Robin are great vehicles for storytelling.”

‘Great vehicles for storytelling’ makes Jack sound like a literary critic and not an awkward teenage boy trying to find himself in the frames of a comic book. His passion warms the cold, dark cockles of Dean’s heart, though.

“Now that I think of it, maybe it’s just Jason Todd who I feel like I identify with because I also like Red Hood. I mean, Red Hood’s story...”

Jack shakes his head and grins. He’s using his hands to emphasize certain points and his cheeks are a deeper shade of pink than usual.  

“So... ugh, this is confusing if you don’t know about, like, how comic books are written and stuff, but in 1988 DC had a telephone poll to gauge whether or not to kill off his character, and they did, just because 72 more people said Joker should kill him, and like...”

Jack scoffs and furrows his brow, and Dean bites back a good-natured chuckle; he doesn’t want Jack to think he’s making fun.

“In 2005, they brought him back as Red Hood — resurrected him — so that he could be the new Red Hood, an anti-hero not entirely unlike Batman himself, his old boss, except Red Hood isn’t opposed to using lethal force...”

Dean peeks at Meg and Rowena to his left, and both are grinning ear-to-ear in the same way he feels. 

“Anyway, every version of Jason Todd carries a risk. Pre-crisis, Bruce is worried that Jason’ll fall in with the criminal element; post-crisis, Jason struggles with impulsivity, recklessness, rage... I could go on and on, but I just...”

He shrugs. “It’s like I’m reading about myself sometimes. I mean not physically because Jason Todd’s like 6 feet tall and over 200 pounds, but like his story, you know?” 

Cain smiles and nods, looking up from his notepad. “That’s a good share, Jack. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Jack replies with a satisfied grin.

“Now, can you tell the group about what happened last night?” Cain asks, and Jack’s smile falters.

He draws a breath, clearly preparing himself to reveal something less fun to talk about than Jason Todd.

“I self-harmed last night.”

Dean blinks and looks around the circle. Meg’s dropped her chin to twist her bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger, Rowena tsks and shakes her head, Gabe is staring at his feet, Crowley looks like he’s sleeping with his eyes closed, and Dean feels like screaming. 

“What’s that mean?” Dean asks, silently praying that Jack’s not saying what he thinks he’s saying.

Jack quickly straightens in his seat, and he turns his wide eyes to Cain. 

“Go ahead, Jack,” Cain encourages.

Jack swallows as he turns back to look at Dean. “It means that I cut myself.”

Dean shakes his head in denial. “On accident, right?”

Jack shakes his head in answer. “No. On purpose.”

Dean’s face gets hot, and his heart starts to race. “...why?”

Jack frowns. “It’s one of the ways I’ve used to cope with emotional pain—”

“Why would you— what the fuck?!”

“Dean.”

Dean’s not sure if the reprimand has come from Cain, Gabe, Meg, or all three of them, but he can’t focus on any one thing right then. He sees Cain with his phone, probably tattling to Billie again, as he stands up, shoving his chair backward out of the circle. 

“When did this happen?! Was I there?” He’s furious that he didn’t notice that the kid he shares a room with is hurting himself.

Jack’s answering nod is terse. The kid’s frightened, and Dean realizes too late that he’s frightened of him.

“Dean, step back out of the circle.” Cain walks toward him, and Dean does as he’s told. “Walt and Roy will escort you to Billie’s office.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean mumbles before looking over Cain’s shoulder. “Jack, I’m sorry. I—”

“Now, Dean.” Cain blocks his view.

+++

“You can’t save everyone, Dean.” Billie closes her door and walks toward her desk.

“Are you and Meg comparing notes now?” Dean follows her.

Billie shakes her head. “My point is, you’re here to recover just like everyone else, and part of your recovery — yours specifically — is to not interfere in another’s journey.”

“Why me specifically?”

Billie rounds her desk. “Remember yesterday when we talked about White Knight Syndrome?”

Dean hangs his head. “Yeah.”

She finds a piece of cardstock with a string attached to it in a pile on her credenza. “You can’t protect Pamela or Jack from themselves. They have to go through this.”

“OK, then gimme a pill or a shot or... I dunno a lobotomy because I clearly can’t keep my shit together. The kid looked... fuckin’ terrified of me.”

Billie arches a brow as she takes a seat in her desk chair. “Jack’s disposition aside, you’re an intimidating presence, Dean, and you use it to make things happen the way you think they should.”

Dean’s beginning to learn that he inherited his father’s temper and intimidation tactics along with his skewed moral compass and tendency to throw himself on his sword in an effort to save someone else from stubbing their toe. The trouble with that is, as Billie has explained, he can’t win someone else’s battle for them, and he can’t win his own if he’s fighting someone else’s.  

“I know.” He sighs. “What’re you writing?”

“I’m giving you a therapeutic tool.” Billie finishes her task and then hands the finished product to Dean.

He snatches it from her with a grunt of impatience before reading aloud. 

“Confront me if I try to help you slash anyone without being asked.” His eyes narrow and he looks up to glare at his therapist. “I ‘spose this fuckin’ string is so I can wear this thing like a sign?”

Billie smiles and nods as she coolly recaps her marker without a word.

Dean huffs in annoyance and defeat before reluctantly looping the sign around his neck. “Fuck.” He turns and makes his way to the door.

“Three days, please,” Billie calls after him as he exits her office.

“Yeah, yeah...”

Dean lumbers down the hall, running numbers in his head — eight days since he’s had a drink or anything approaching chill, also eight days without an orgasm that wasn’t brought on by his own hand in the shower, three days wearing a stupid fucking sign around his neck, at least 30 minutes since his last cigarette, 22 more days in this, so eloquently anointed by that little Scottish prick, Hellscape. 

Dean wants his fucking phone back just so he can Google “on what day in rehab do I stop losing my god damned mind?” because holy shit he cannot take another second of this batshit game of Asteroids. Every time he turns around there’s another giant ball of what-the-fuck flying at him. 

When he rounds the corner, Gabe is leaning on the reception desk, regaling Missouri with some bullshit Dean can’t give a fuck about.

“Missouri, you gotta get me a new roommate, this guy stinks. I mean I dunno whether he’s just eatin’ beef and, like, secreting ketones outta every pore of his...” 

Dean skirts the desk to make it down the east hall without event so he can go to his room and pout in solitude. Gabe doesn’t miss a fucking beat.

“We’re gonna come back to this, Missouri. I’m gonna be back, we’re in each other’s lives, OK?”

He scurries after Dean toward the bank of elevators.

“Hey! Hey, Dean-o, you got a sign? Lemme see, buddy.”

Dean tucks inside the elevator and lays on the button with the inward-facing arrows to close it ASAP, but he’s not fast enough. Gabe braces an arm against the door shaft.

“Confront me if I try to help you/anyone without being asked,” Gabe reads aloud then pulls a yikes face as he slinks backward, holding his palms up in surrender. “As you were, soldier.”

Dean glares as the doors finally close.

On Dean’s seventh day, he and Billie agree that the following weekend would be a good time to plan his family visitation. He is granted a 10-minute phone call to invite someone.

“There’s a... family week... thing.”

Dean’s taken to chewing his cuticles lately. It’s such a gross habit, and he doesn't even want to think about the germs, but he can’t smoke inside, and, well, recovery’s a bitch.  

“A what?” Sam asks.

Dean’s knee bounces uncontrollably. “A family session — they teach us how to talk to each other for a couple of days, and then they supervise an actual conversation.”

He looks up at Missouri who smiles and nods encouragingly.

“And, what, you want me to come there, is that what you’re saying?” 

Sam sounds tired. The kids are laughing and yelling in the background, and Dean starts to backtrack that maybe he should’ve called earlier, or later, or tomorrow.

“Why me, Dean?”

He wants to tell his brother how sorry he is. He wants to tell him that he’s made so many revelations in just seven days. He wants Sam to know that he loves him and that he’s trying.

“Hello?”

“Yeah, hi, uhh... They make you ask somebody, so it’s you or-”

“Emma.”

Dean closes his eyes.

“Dean...” The noise in the background fades until Dean can hear a door close on the other end of the receiver. “Man, we... we can work things out, OK? You’re my brother. We will work things out, we’ll talk. But, Emma... Dean, you have to call her.”

Dean tries to bite back the tears. His jaw is so tight, he thinks it might crack. “She won’t—” He sniffs and swallows, and wipes his eyes. His voice is barely more than a whisper. “Sammy, she won’t talk to me.”

Sam’s quiet at first, but Dean can hear him typing. “When was the last time you tried?”

“Christmas Day,” Dean answers, recalling with heartbreaking clarity, calling Emma’s phone only to repeatedly be sent to voicemail then texting with no confirmation the message was even delivered. “She blocked me, and when I called Lydia, she told me Em wasn’t ready.”

“OK, well, Christmas was six weeks ago. Try again?” Sam’s recommendation, as well-meaning and gentle as it is, serves to double the weight on Dean’s heart.

“Yeah, OK,” Dean agrees. “I’ll...” Dean sighs, looking up at Missouri, who’s regretfully tapping the face of her watch. “I’ll get another pass to call. How’re the kids? And Jess?”

Dean hears the bright smile in Sam’s voice when he replies. “They’re good. Jess wanted me to tell you she loves you, and the kids miss their uncle Dean.”

Dean nods as another wave of tears spills over his cheeks. “Love you, too,” he whispers. “OK, gotta go.”

The brothers bid each other farewell before disconnecting, and Dean thanks Missouri before heading to bed.

Chapter 7

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