#unfic challenge

[1000roughdrafts]

Dean Winchester X Reader Masterlist

Some of my works are 18+, which I'll write as such here, but please heed the warnings on the individual posts as well - All under the cut :)

One Shots xx

Angst

💙 Us - request: Can you do a deanxreader songfic to the song us by Regina spektor

💙Goodbye ~ After Dean takes on the mark, his relationship with Y/N starts to fall through the cracks. She’s had enough of him taking out his stress on her, and after years of silencing her pain, she finally lets him know why  it’s time to say goodbye.

💙How Do I Become Enough ~Reader and Dean right about her doubts, she feels somewhat isolated and annoyed. No cheating, necessarily, but think along the lines of Dolly Parton’s Jolene  

💙Intrusive Thoughts ~Dean was supposed to visit Y/N while she was at work, but when he didn’t show, she got worried. After finally getting ahold of him, she was relieved to know that he was alive. But when another full day passes by without a word, her mind goes into overdrive about what could have happened to him.

💙Voicemails ~ this is a small, angsty thing, and it is 100000% self indulging so please feel free to just ignore it.

💙 Illicit Affairs - Request from anon based on Taylor Swift’s song Illicit Affairs <3

💙  Promise Me This Is Forever -  this is for @allywritesblog and #allyswriting event, and im using the quote "promise me this is forever" :)

Fluff

💙 Phone Calls With Dean ~ just a random thing I wrote for a story that didn’t pan out, no real plot to this.

💙Shooting With Dean ~ Dean takes you out for target practice, but something else is on his mind.

💙Time ~Soulmate AU, Y/N has had the ability to pause and unpause time for likely her whole life, believing she was the only person with such a power. One day, she learns that not only is that not true, but the other person is her soulmate. 

💙 Salted Baseball Bat - Anon Request: "'They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?' you say as you whack the ghost again."

💙 Criminal - DeanxReader request from @rileynicole1967 based on the song Criminal by Britney Spears

💙 Cat-astrophe Written for @spnfanficpond​‘s unfic challenge with the prompt “I may have accidentally sort of adopted 5 cats.”fluff, stern!Dean, 

💙  Baby Winchester 2021 - Reader finds out she's pregnant, and tells Dean in a cute, fluffy way.

💙  Just Another Day - Fluffy Dean x female!reader Valentine's Day post

Flangst

💙 We're Gonna Get You Through This - reader is triggered back to a horrible memory and explains to Dean why waiting to have sex is best for her. 

💙Currently untitled ~ Request: could you do a deanxreader fic where she goes out on a date (maybe to a bar) for drinks with a guy and towards the end of the night, the guy (you pick the name) starts being rough with her cause he’s drunk and hurts her, then dean finds out somehow and comes over to kick his ass then admits his feelings for her?

💙 A Boring Holy Cross Tattoo - A Fic inspired by Cards Against Supernatural with the cards “Dean has 99 problems but ____ ain’t one.” and “A boring holy cross tattoo”.

💙 Amnesia - Request from @rileynicole1967​ : Deanxreader one shot or series ;) based off the song “amnesia” by 5 seconds of summer but in the readers pov and at the end he comes back for her and it’s all fluffy and cute.

💙 Half a Man - Follow up to the Amnesia request from @rileynicole1967​ - this one takes place the same night as Amnesia, but in Dean’s perspective and based on the song Half a Man.

18 + / Smut One Shots

💙Downtime ~ 18+, smut; After weeks of hunting the same witch, you and Dean decide to take a weekend break, but you didn’t expect what was in store for that weekend.

💙Punishment ~ 18+, smut; After embarrassing Dean at an important dinner, he punishes you with a cold shower.

💙 Size Matters - 18+ Smut DeanxReader request from anon, where reader has a size kink

💙 Poison  -  DeanxReader request from @kaitlaitlaitl​ based on the song Poison by Alice Cooper

Mini Series xx

💙 Movie Monsters Part One | Part Two ~ You’re teamed up with Dean, a man you’ve always found obnoxious, to find out the path of a new monster. Of course, things don’t always go as planned. (Complete)

💙 Never Have I Ever Part One | Part Two  ~ Part Two is pure smut; College!AU - Dean gets jealous of the attention he thinks you’re receiving from Cas during a small party at your house and doesn’t know what to do with it, so he leaves the room to keep drinking. 

💙 Hope is a Dangerous Thing... Part One | Part Two ~ The renowned author of a best-selling crime novel, Y/N Y/L/N, was thrown into a whole new world after her parents were brutally murdered. Their killer never found, Y/N took things into her own hands, meeting the Winchesters in her journey for justice. Even years later, she struggles to let anyone close in fear they’d leave or worse.

💙  i hate u, i love u (1) Slowburn au/Y/N has been in a relationship with Nick for the last 5 years. They’ve had a rough go. There’s been good and bad times, but she finally realizes that the man she thought she loved has been abusing her. Dean offers her a safe haven when she feared she had nothing else. (this may be abandoned, but we will see)

💙Reverse Supernatural  ~ request; “Hi!! I have been tossing an idea around for a bit… What if… Now hear me out… What if the Reader was the experienced hunter and she/he has to save Dean and/or Sam who have never known the supernatural existed…?” (only part one is out right now / ongoing / might also become abandoned)

Series xx

💙Family Secrets ~ 18+ ; Your uncle Bobby, and adoptive father Rufus, had a secret. A secret they never wanted the Winchester’s to find out. They had done a good job of keeping you from crossing their path, but now that they've both passed away there is nothing they can do about the brothers finding out their secret; you. (ongoing BUT I really want to and am seriously considering taking it down to rewrite it - this was the first thing I ever wrote and it's... it shows lol) 2/22/24 A/N: I want to return to this series, but since it was pretty much my first fic ever, I really want to rewrite some of the episodes and make it pace better. I understand that that might not be the best solution, however, so maybe I’ll just add inbetweeners or something. Just know I want to come back to finish it and may change some things along the way 😊

[spnfanficpond]

Pond Writing Challenges

2016 Pond Writing Challenge

The Unfic Writing Challenge 

2019 Galentine’s Day Fic Exchange 

S14 Weekly Episode Writing Challenge  

2021 Secret Santa Fic Exchange 

2021 Alpha Reader Program 

2022 Secret Santa Fic Exchange

2023 Secret Santa Fic Exchange

Writer's Block Challenge:

One

[sams-sass]

Same Song Different Show

Hello!!! So this was written for @spnfanficpond​‘s unfic challenge. My prompt was “Africa” by toto. I don’t know what happened. I just started writing and couldn’t stop. 

Summary: This is basically changing channels, just with you and Sam instead of Sam and Dean. 

Parings: Sam x Reader 

Warnings: Fluff, language, just word length (she’s a wordy one).

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

You moved your shirt back a little to see the cut across your collarbone. Sighing from exhaustion and frustration, you licked your lips and raised the needle and dental floss to your skin.

"Fucking angels." You muttered under your breath as you moved the floss through your skin. There was a soft knock on the bathroom door, and you instantly knew it was Sam on the other side. Your stomach flipped in your abdomen, and your heart rate picked up. Tonight was weird. Really weird. The angels had come for you and Sam, talking about some divine plan that was laid out for the two of you by heaven itself. They refused to provide all the details, but it was something about the two of you being together…as in a couple. There was something they weren't telling you, and it was driving you insane. How could they drop a bomb like that on you so suddenly? You and Sam? I mean, you would be lying to say you never thought about it, dreamed about it, wished for it, but you never took your secret crush seriously. You saw how adamantly he had denied the possibility of you two. You saw the way he looked over at you like he had never even thought about you as anything other than a friend. Of course, things had gotten physical, and you ended up with a nasty cut. You held pressure on it the whole drive back; the silence in the car was deafening with unspoken words. You and Sam had shared awkward glances, and fleeting eye contact the entire time back to the motel. Neither one of you could say what was really on your mind. You couldn’t ask each other about it just yet. Soon though. Soon you would have to talk about it.

“Hey, Y/N, you doing okay in there?” His voice was soft and smooth, putting you at ease. You gulped and opened the door, finding him leaning against the doorframe. His right arm was over his head, holding his weight against the top of the door. While his left hand was placed on his hip, highlighting his trim waist. He was so close you could smell his shampoo. His beauty stopped you in your tracks, and you dropped the needle, leaving the dental floss handing from your torn flesh.

“Hey, Sam.” You said, letting your mouth turn up into a small smile that widened when he smiled back at you in the cramped space.

“Ya know, I could help with that. I don't think you are going to get a good stitch trying to do it yourself." He said, pointing to your cut. You looked down and sighed, feeling your shoulders relax slightly, and nodded at him before stepping out of the bathroom. He followed you to the bed where you sat on the edge. He grabbed a chair and sat down in front of you, taking the needle in between his fingers and beginning his work. You winced, and he stopped his movements, raising his eyes to look into yours deeply.

“You okay?” He asked, a worried expression on his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You said, giving him a small smile for reassurance. It was at that moment that you realized how close your faces were. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you made the mistake of glancing down at his lips for the smallest of seconds. He cleared his throat and licked his lips, tearing his eyes away from you and getting back to work. You didn't know what to do. A part of you didn't want to talk about it, just forget about it and never mention the craziness. Then there was another part of you that desperately wanted to talk about you and Sam together, to pull him towards you and taste his answer on his lips.

"So…tonight was weird." You said softly, casting your eyes towards the floor. His fingers stilled, and he took in a big breath. You licked your bottom lip and let it catch between your teeth, biting it as you nervously waited. He looked back up at you, and you saw his throat work as he swallowed.

"Yeah. Yeah, it was." He said. You could tell he was trying to keep his voice light.

"What do you think they want from us?" You asked, twisting your fingers together in your lap. Sam tied off the stitches and cut the floss, leaning back in the chair.

"Sounds like they want us to uh…well to be together." His voice was a matter of fact. Emotionless.

“Right, but why would heaven care if we were together or not?” You asked, pulling a leg up to your chest and tilting your head in confusion.

“I don’t know. Why do they want anything from humans?" He sounded tired—his voice heavy with sleep and something else you couldn’t place. You nodded your head and shrugged your shoulders, telling him that you agreed with his assessment.

“Well, I’m going to get cleaned up.” You said, standing up and awkwardly wiping your palms against your jeans. “Thank you for the stitch.” You pointed to your shoulder with a little smile.

“Of course.” He replied with a small smile of his own.

 ----------------------

Sam watched you walk into the bathroom and waited for the door to close to exhale. This day had turned out different than he imagined, and he couldn't stop the feelings building inside him like a tidal wave. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes tightly. What did this mean? Being put together by heaven. For what? Sighing, he opened the door and stepped into the cool air of the night. Pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing Dean's familiar number.

"Yeah?" His brother's scruffy voice greeted him.

"Hey, Dean," Sam said, stuffing his unoccupied hand into his pocket nervously.

“How’s it going?” He asked, his mouth clearly full of food.

“Alright, how’s the ghost?” Sam asked.

"Dead," Dean answered quickly. "Did the angels tell you why they were there?" He questioned his brother further.

"Yeah…they uh were here for Y/N and me. Apparently, they set this whole thing up to get us alone." Sam said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“What? Why?” Dean sounded worried now.

"Well, according to them, we are supposed to be together…as in a couple," Sam said, waiting for his brother's disapproval. There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Sam thought his brother lost connection for a second, pulling the phone away from his face to check.

"I mean, Sammy, sometimes you just have to accept divine intervention," Dean said, and Sam thought he had stepped into an alternate reality for a moment. He furrowed his brow and shook his head slightly, his mouth comically agape.

“What? No, Dean, no.” Sam stumbled through his words, unable to come up with a real excuse. Dean sighed on the other end of the phone.

“Sam. I see the way you look at her, the way she looks at you too. Maybe this time, one of us should listen to those winged bastards.” Dean said, and Sam could hear the liquid sloshing in the bottle. His phone buzzed, and he sighed in relief.

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” Sam said hastily. He opened the text on his phone, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Cas: 1276 Millwood Drive

Sam shook his head and stepped back into the motel room, making his way over to the bathroom door.

“Y/N? Hey, I got a text from Cas to meet up.” He said after knocking. He heard an audible groan in frustration before you opened the door, a bloody cloth in your hand from where you were cleaning your cut.

“About what now?” You asked, placing your hands on your hips.

"I don't know; it was just an address." He said as he grabbed his jacket and made his way towards the door. You rolled your eyes dramatically and let your shoulders slump before following after him.

 --------------------------

The address Cas sent was an abandoned old warehouse. Its rusted and worn metal roof creaked in the soft breeze. You made your way inside with flashlights in hand, looking around cautiously for your angel friend. The damp air was thick with the smell of stale mildew. There was an ominous dripping of water somewhere in the distance, and you felt as if eyes were watching you from afar. A chill ran down your spine, and you wrapped your arms around yourself.

"Where is he?" You whispered to Sam, who gave you a confused look, shrugging his shoulders and turning the corners of his lips down towards his chin. You stepped through large metal double doors at the same time and were suddenly greeted with a strange sight. You were suddenly in a living room; a beige couch and green rug were on hardwood floors. There was a mirror on the wall over a fireplace. Pictures of people you didn't know lined the sage green walls. You and Sam both looked around with confusion and fear in your expressions.

“What the hell?” Sam said. You looked over at him to give your agreement when you caught sight of him and stopped dead in your tracks. His hair was slicked back with a ridiculous amount of gel, and it looked like he was wearing bronzer. He had on grey dress pants with a flowy cream-colored shirt tucked into them with a black belt highlighting his hips. The shirt was unbuttoned down to his sternum, exposing his chest that you so often dreamt of but rarely got to see.

"Sam?" You asked with wide eyes. "What the hell are you wearing?" He turned to look at you, and his face fell slightly.

"I could ask you the same question." He said, pointing to your body. You tilted your head to the side and looked down at yourself to see what he was talking about. A silky black dress barely covered your body, clinging to your curves, and highlighting your assets. Your feet were decorated with high heels, your legs were bare, and the dress cut off at your upper thigh. You swallowed and ran your hands over yourself.

"What the fuck?" You said simply. You looked around the room again and caught your face in the mirror; your eyes widened at your reflection. Your hair was done into a glamourous updo that framed your face nicely; your makeup looked caked on and thick. Heavy and gaudy earrings sat in your ears, sticking out from your hair and almost touching your shoulders.

A loud bang made both of you jump and instinctively reach for your guns that had disappeared. You threw your arms up in frustration and turned towards the sound. A woman walked through the door that had slammed against the wall, her hips swinging as she strutted into the room. Music started from somewhere. Slow and melodramatic that reminded you of a show your grandma used to watch. You leaned your head back and stared at her. She walked directly up to you, invading your personal space. She smelt like hairspray and cheap perfume.

“You think you are so much better than me, don’t you!” She screamed in your face.

"What?" You asked, looking over at Sam, who was wearing the same look of shock as you.

“He was mine first!” She said with an over the top ugly crying face with no tears. She suddenly reached up and slapped you across the face, making you stumble slightly. You grabbed your cheek and looked at her with an open mouth and angry eyes.

“Oh. You’re in for it now.” You said, squaring up to her and rolling your neck to get the cracks out.

“And you!” She suddenly screamed at Sam. “You leave me for my sister right when I tell you about our baby?” Sam leaned his head forward and narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth to talk. She reached forward and slapped him across the face too.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?” You asked, taking a step towards Sam.

"Tell me, you don't love me!" She wailed at Sam. "Tell me that you love her more than me, and I'll leave you alone forever." She pointed at you as she spoke, her overlined lips pulling awkwardly over her teeth.

“Uh…yes?” Sam mumbled with a raise of his eyebrow. She threw herself at him, clutching his shirt in her balled fists. He leaned back and tried to get her to let go, pushing at her wrists.

"I will always love you." She whispered, her face coming dangerously close to Sam's, making him lean back even further. Whimpering pathetically, she released him and ran away with her head in her hands. The music changed suddenly, and you recognized the familiar drum beat.

It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you.

There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do.

I bless the rains down in Africa.

Gonna take some time to do the things we never had.

“What just happened?” He asked, his eyes scanning the room again in confusion. You opened your mouth to answer, but only a mumbled string of “um”s fell out while you stared blankly ahead. There was a sound like a record scratching, and then the music started again.

It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you.

There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do.

I bless the rains down in Africa.

Gonna take some time to do the things we never had.

"I don't know. It's like we're in a soap opera or something." You said, putting your weight on one hip and crossing your arms.

“A…a soap opera?” He raised his eyebrows.

"I know it sounds insane, but think about it for a second. The outfits, the crazy woman slapping us, the ridiculous plotline, the music, and the mood lighting. I'm not sure how or why, but it all fits." You spoke with your hands as you put the pieces together.

“Wait! Y/N, that’s it! We are in a soap opera!” He grabbed your biceps and looked deeply into your eyes with a new sense of understanding. “When Dean and I were trying to stop the apocalypse from happening two years ago, Gabriel put us in this endless loop of T.V shows.” He explained. You placed your hands on his forearms and furrowed your brow.

“Okay, so how do we get out?” You asked.

"Well, Dean and I had to find him; the only way we could move on was to 'play our roles.'" Sam said, taking his hands off your arms so he could use finger quotes.

"What does that mean? Play your roles?" You asked him using air quotes as he had. The record scratched. The song started playing annoyingly all over again, its tune filling the otherwise quiet room with the familiar beat. Sam looked nervous suddenly, his left hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

"Well, we uh…we would do what the role required. Like we were in a hospital in one show, so we played doctors, and that's how we moved on." Sam explained.

“Okay…” You started as you began to pace back and forth, helping yourself think. “So, this is a soap opera where we just found out you chose me over my pregnant, with your baby, sister.” You paused and looked over at him. “I can’t believe I just said that.” You shook your head, feeling the large earrings swinging against your neck before resuming your pacing. “It sounds to me like this is…oh I see.” You connected the dots and stopped dead in your tracks, looking up at Sam like a deer in headlights.

"The part when we get together," Sam said with a nervous chuckle.

“Fucking angels.” You muttered again, closing your eyes and taking in a big breath. You were stuck in place as if someone had poured concrete around your feet. You wanted this, wanted him so badly. You felt a heat run over your skin as he took one step towards you, his face one of determination. Swallowing down your nerves, you reached out one hand and felt him take it between his fingers.

"May I?" He asked, his voice sounded rough. You didn't trust your voice, so you just nodded your head slowly, not breaking eye contact. He touched your shoulder and leaned forward. You tilted your head up and closed your eyes, rising onto your tippy toes. The song started again, the drums beating as his lips touched yours ever so softly. You kissed him back gently, not allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling of him like you so desperately wanted to. He pulled back and smiled down at you, his dimples on full display. You let out a shaky breath and smiled back at him, holding yourself back from throwing your arms around his neck and finally letting yourself show him how you feel.

"Let's try the door." He said. You realized that his hand was still holding yours as you made your way over to the door, and you couldn't stop the small smirk that made its way across your lips at the feeling. You pushed the door open, and suddenly you were on a street. The cobblestone street clicked underneath your heels, your long skirt dragging on the ground behind you soundlessly. Sam was wearing a suit and top hat. His jacket was cut at his waist in the front but falling longer in the back, a pocket watch chain hanging from the front. His bowtie was a solid black, making his green eyes stand out. He turned to look at you, and you didn't miss the way his eyes raked over your body. Making you look down in self-consciousness. You had on a corset that made you stand tall and straight. Its laces were pulling your body into a tight hourglass shape, perking up your breasts and flowing at the sinch of your waist. A frilly and tight maroon dress adorned your body. You swallowed and looked up at Sam, who licked his lips, causing your heart to skip a beat. Suddenly there were people everywhere as if they all appeared at once. The street was busy with the noise of voices and horse-drawn carriages.

“What do you think is going to be our moment in this one?” You asked, looking around at the street.

"I don't know; I think we should move, though," Sam said, walking along the street. He held out his elbow, and you placed your gloved hand into the crook as you strolled across the road. His body was so close to yours, and the feeling of warmth it was giving made you feel calmer in this unfamiliar and uncertain land. A market with tents and booths appeared, you and Sam walking under its shade together.

“A flower for the lady!” A man with a huge mustache and glasses called out to you loudly. His outstretched hand held a rose. You took it between your fingers and smiled at him.

“Thank you.” You said, bringing the flower up to your nose to inhale its scent.

"Doctor!" A voice called from afar. You and Sam both looked to see a man running towards you with papers in his hands. He stopped in front of you, his breath coming in fast and ragged.

"I am sorry to interrupt, I did not see you there, madam. I will leave you while you are courting your betrothed." He said quickly, bowing his head in respect.

“Betrothed?” You and Sam asked in unison.

"I mean, yes, of course." Sam corrected himself and stood a little taller.

“If I may suggest, the park is rather splendid this day. Maybe a spot of lunch.” He placed his hands behind his back and smiled warmly at you.

“A wise suggestion indeed. Thank you.” Sam said, clearly fumbling over his words. You walked away, still arm and arm, and made your way to the park.

“Okay, how do we move on?” You asked quietly, keeping your head low.

"I don't know. We need a door." He said, looking around. "There!" He said, pointing to a building on the corner.

"Let's go." You said. The two of you pushed the door open and were greeted by a sight you could only dream of—towers of books surrounded you on all sides. Shelves of literature were all around you, and you couldn't help but feel the amazement. Emerald, red, navy, and black book spines pointed towards you as you walked through the aisles. You found a door in the back of the library and faced Sam, nervously rubbing your hands together and waiting for the kiss. He took you by the arms and pulled you to him while the orchestra swelled in the background. There were no words this time, but it was the instrumental version of the song playing earlier. His lips touched yours with more authority this time; he left his lips on yours for a beat longer than you expected. Your body melted against him, and you could feel the restraint in his kiss. Did he want more? Did he like what you wanted? He released you, and you instinctively licked your lips, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. He cleared his throat, and you found the closest door, pushing it open.

Your eyes took a second to adjust to the bright light suddenly surrounding you in an overstimulating bedroom. There was color everywhere. The blue curtains clashed with the red and white rug. Green walls were lined with obscure and abstract paintings. Fabric hung from the ceiling fan, curtain rods, and full-length mirror next to a mannequin. You looked down at yourself and saw that you were pinned into a flowing red dress that was surprisingly tasteful given your surroundings.

“You might be my best work yet!” A voice said from behind you, making you jump slightly. You turned to see a cute girl with a measuring tape hanging around her neck and a pincushion on her wrist. She was examining you as if you were art in a museum.

"Where is Sam?" You asked; you frantically looked around the room for him and began to panic when you couldn't find him anywhere.

“He will be at the party! Waiting for you,” She paused, clasping her hands together and looking up into the distance with a blissful look on her face. “his true love.” She whispered.

"Um…what?" You asked with a furrowed brow. What the hell was going on? Who was this person? If you were here, where was Sam? The sound of a door opening interrupted your thoughts, and you leaned forward to see who it was. A girl practically skipped into the room and let out a high pitch squeal. Her curls bounced with her as she and the other girl did an in sync hip movement. You watched on with wide eyes and a confused expression.

“Oh my god! Y/N! You look ravishing!” The second girl shouted excitedly…too excitedly.

“Tha-tha-thank you.” You stuttered through your confusion. She reached up and made a claw with her fingers, roaring in your direction.

"What the fuck?" You mumbled under your breath. You looked around the room and at these women. The realization started to slowly sink in all at once—the over the top dialog, the one-dimensional friends, the bright colors. You were in a romantic comedy. The sound of a bottle of champagne popping confirmed it to you.

"Alright now. Let's get you ready for that party.” The girl who was clearly playing your “artsy” friend moved towards you with an awkward shoulder roll. She took the pins out and pushed you into a chair where your "bubbly" friend played with your hair and placed jewelry across your skin. A happy song played in the background as you all drank champagne and played with makeup. You sat awkwardly silent as they fell into hysterics about…nothing. Not a single thing was even remotely funny. Holy crap. You were in a montage. You placed your glass of champagne down and picked up the bottle, chugging the bubbly liquid down as fast as you could.

As if time didn't matter at all, you were suddenly standing at the top of a descending staircase. Sam stood at the bottom, looking as handsome as ever. His tux was fitted to him perfectly, highlighting his broad shoulders and slim waist. You swallowed and made your way down the staircase, eager to get to him as an orchestra started playing on cue. You felt eyes on you from every angle, as if everyone in the building was waiting for you to arrive. Finally making it to Sam, you breathed a sigh of relief when you felt the party resume behind you.

"You look beautiful," Sam said, almost as if he couldn't help himself. You let a shy smile cross your face before playfully nudging him in the chest with your shoulder.

“A romantic comedy. Can you believe it? Dean is going to be pissed he missed out.” You asked him, laughing and looking at all the doors for the best way out.

"I know where were you? I have been waiting here looking for you for like a half-hour." Sam asked.

“Ugh. Sorry. I had to get ready with tweedled dee and tweedled dumb over there.” You flicked your head in their direction. “They laughed about nothing. Absolutely nothing for like ten minutes.” You muttered, shaking your head of the memory. There was a squeak next to you, and your eyes closed in premature annoyance. You knew what was about to happen.

"Hey, guys!" Your bubbly friend said. You both turned and gave her a tight-lipped smile.

“The dance floor looks really nice.” Your artsy friend chimed in, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

“Yeah, you guys should go try it out.” Bubbles said, once again bouncing in place.

“What? Oh no, we are fine here.” You said, shaking your head and waving your hand in their faces.

"No! You have to!" Artsy said, shoving the two of you out onto the dance floor. You and Sam both stumbled onto the wooden floor, holding onto each other for support. A familiar tune started, and you both straightened at the song.

I hear the drums echoing tonight.

But she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation.

She's coming in, 12:30 flight.

The moonlit wings reflect the stars that guide me towards salvation.

I stopped an old man along the way.

Hoping to find some old forgotten words or ancient melodies

He turned to me as if to say, "Hurry boy, it's waiting there for you."

Suddenly everyone on the dance floor started moving along to the song in a choreographed routine. Swaying bodies and smiling faces were prancing around you in a blur of color and fake smiles.

"Oh, sweet Jesus. It's a dance scene." You said, watching as everyone got more involved with the approaching chorus.

“No, no, no. I am not doing a dance number.” Sam said, stiffening under his jacket.

“Okay, then kiss me.” You replied quickly, turning your face towards his.

“Y/N, are you sure?” He asked, ever the gentlemen.

“Sam.” You rolled your eyes and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him towards you and kissing him fully on the mouth as the chorus broke out behind you.

It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you.

There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do.

I bless the rains down in Africa.

Gonna take some time to do the things we never had

This kiss felt more emotional than the others had. It felt more passionate, real, and raw. His hand came up to cup your cheek. You wanted to let yourself have the moment. To fall into him and drink him in like water, but you had to get out of here, and you had to do it now. You broke away, letting him still hold you close to him as you took in a heavy breath. You released each other and ran away from the dance floor before your “friends” could find you to have another montage.

Charging through the double doors at the same time, you and Sam found yourselves suddenly in a black and white world. Your body was draped over a couch, a silk robe cloaking your skin. Pearls and jewels hung on your neck, leading to a nightdress that hung to your mid-calf. A glass with a dark liquid was perched in your right hand, balancing on your hip. A knock on the door made you get up and walk across the lavish room, opening the door to a maid. She bowed her head slightly and spoke in a soft voice.

"Excuse me, miss, but he wants to see you now."  She said, lifting her head to look into your eyes.

“Very well.” You played along, turning back into your bedroom to find clothing.

“Would you like my help, miss?” The maid asked, already taking a step into the room.

"What shall I wear?" You asked her, sitting back down onto the couch and crossing your legs. She made her way to a closet and began looking through hangers. You followed behind her and let yourself openly gawk at the number of dresses in front of you.

"If I were you, I would wear this, miss." She said, holding up a floor-length beaded gown. You nodded and took it from her hands, smiling at the opportunity to get so dressed up for once.

"I agree." You smiled at her, and she let out a breath, as if she had been holding it for quite some time, and smiled back at you happily. She helped you take off your jewelry and hung up your robe and nightgown for you as you changed into the dress. Her thin fingers zipped up the dress in the back, and she lightly ran her hands over the fabric to make sure it laid flat over your body. Then, as if time wasn't a thing, you were stepping out of a car—a hand coming to help you keep steady on your feet. Your face turned up towards the lively building in front of you, music and lights seeming to flow from it and into your soul. You walked through the doors and found Sam immediately, his tall frame towering over everyone else. He raised a hand and fixed his cufflink, sending a wink in your direction. Your blood ran hotter in your veins as you stepped towards him until you were face to face.

"Champagne, madam?" A waiter asked, holding out a tray with two flutes of the bubbly liquid balancing perfectly on it for the taking. You and Sam each took one, clinking your glasses together in cheers before taking a sip. You couldn't help but notice how his eyes didn't deviate from yours or how he seemed to have a new confidence. You smiled and looked around at the night club. Dim lighting and white table cloths filled your vision. The air was smokey and warm on a summer night. People bustled about, drinks in gloved hands—dresses and suits a blur in the festive atmosphere. The band played on in the back, filling the crowded space with a slow beat.

“This song is for the owner and his lovely date.” The singer spoke into the microphone, pointing directly at you and Sam.

"That's our cue," Sam said, taking the glass from his hand and placing it on a table with his own. He stretched his hand out to you and wrapped his fingers around your hand gently. You made your way onto the dance floor, and a slow rendition of what was quickly becoming a song you shared with Sam started.

I hear the drums echoing tonight.

But she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation.

She’s coming in, 12:30 flight

The moonlit wings reflect the stars that guide me towards salvation.

I stopped an old man along the way.

Hoping to find some old forgotten words or ancient melodies

He turned to me as if to say, “Hurry boy, it’s waiting there for you."

Sam wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you tightly against him, moving to the beat of the song. His large hand splayed over your back, the pads of his fingers pushing lightly against your ribcage. You tried to calm your heart, swallowing hard and telling yourself it was all for show.

“You seem different.” You said, looking up at him.

“I know. I just figured that maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we played along a little bit.” He said, taking you completely by surprise. You cleared your throat and smiled. You could live with this, with the feeling of him against you tightly. With the way, he was looking at you right now. It was as if time stood still. As if nothing else mattered except you and Sam being together forever. Between the way, his body felt on yours, the champagne, and his hot breath on your face, you decided to be brave.

“Ya know, to get out of here, you have to kiss me.” You said, your voice breathy. He looked down at your lips and bent his neck to capture his lips in yours.

It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you.

There’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do

I bless the rains down in Africa.

Gonna take some time to do the things we never had

This kiss was what you would consider the first kiss. His lips moved lightly against yours, opening ever so slightly. You kissed back, letting yourself explore the feeling of him no matter how fleeting the moment. He broke the kiss first, placing his forehead against yours gently. You glanced up at him again to smile, and the two of you took off to the nearest door.

The smell of beer was the first thing you noticed.

“Y/N! Sam!” A voice called out over the noisy crowd in the bar. You felt Sam's hand take yours, and you moved through the tables together.

“Took you guys long enough, finally expressing your undying love?” The man who had called your name asked, taking a sip of his beer. A laugh track sounded around you at the stupid joke. Awesome. A sitcom.

“What?” Sam asked him, leaning forward slightly.

"Come on, dude! Lighten up. I just want you to be together so I know I don't have a chance with Y/N, and I can move on." He said, and your face scrunched in confusion and disgust. Who talks like that? You wondered as the laugh track went off again.

"Um. Whatever." Sam said, taking your hand and moving through the bar. A girl ran up to you, squealing in excitement. Her hands were clapping together in front of her.

"Oh my, god! You guys are holding hands. Did it happen? Did it finally happen?! Tell me everything, and don't leave out a single detail!" She said, her voice high pitched and whiney. "Oh! Amber! Y/N and Sam are holding hands!" She yelled to another girl loudly. You opened your mouth to say something, but the other girl appeared out of nowhere.

“Cool.” She said with an emotionless face, cueing the laugh track once again.

“Sam.” You said out of the side of your mouth, leaning into him and making the laugh track go off once again.

"On it." He said, retaking your hand and moving until you found a back room for you to hide.

“We need to get out of here.” You said as soon as the door closed.

"Agreed," Sam said, the audience roaring with laughter.

"Hey, Sam." You said softly.

“Yeah?” He turned to face you.

“I..uh…well, I just can't stop thinking about how all these people want us to get together, it's like I don't know what to think anymore." You said, exposing your true feelings to him.

“I feel the same way.” He agreed, leaning against the wall and hunching his shoulders slightly. “I have been feeling different since we got here, T.V. land, I mean, like somehow this was the right thing. I don’t know what to think anymore.” He said, his fingers twisting together as he spoke. You felt your heart rate quicken in your chest at his words. Could he really want you as you wanted him? You had to know. Had to quiet the racing thoughts in your mind. You licked your lips and let out a puff of air.

"Can I try something?" You asked him, taking a step towards him, making the crowd make one long "ohhh." He nodded and swallowed. You stepped up to him, placing your hands on his chest and looking deeply into his eyes before leaning forward. His hands took your face within them, and he bent down to you, his thumbs moving along your cheeks. Your lips connected, and the crowd went wild, cheering, and hollering. The song started playing, but neither one of you pulled away. This time you opened your mouth to him, letting your tongue run over his lower lip. His fingers twisted into your hair, his tongue caught yours, moving into your mouth and pulling a small moan from you at the feeling. He wrapped his arms around you, arched your back into his chest, pressing yourself even harder against his body. He pulled away and looked at you, running his thumb over your bottom lip. You could see the change in his eyes, could feel it within your own heart. This was right. He was right. You were meant to be. Together, forever.

The rain was warm and hard against your skin. Your eyes took in your surroundings—grass and trees with a heavy moon perched high in a black sky. You were drenched, your hair and clothes sticking to your body. You looked for Sam, finding him walking towards you in the milky light of the moon. His white t-shirt was clinging onto his muscular torso, showing off his abs and biceps. You walked towards him across the field until you were face to face under the night sky. This time there were no words spoken. This time, his large hands wrapped around your thighs, and he lifted you against him, your legs wrapping around his waist. It was your turn to lean down and connect your lips to his without holding anything back, to let your feelings show through the kiss. His hands held you against him as you ran your fingers through his wet hair, feeling the strands slip between your fingers. His teeth took your bottom lip between them, and he bit ever so gently. Your tongue slid against his, tasting him, and the rain at once. He was perfect. This was perfect, everything you ever wanted and more. Your love-drenched brain finally put the dots together, and you broke away, holding his face between your hands.

“We never opened a door.” You said. He looked away for a moment before placing you down on the ground to reach into his back pocket. He pulled out his phone and gun from his waistband. You were back, back to reality.

“We’re back.” He said, echoing your own thoughts.

“We’re back!” You cheered, jumping into his arms once more and latching your lips to his, kissing him through smiles and laughter. The song started playing in the background, and your stomach dropped. Were you wrong? You pulled apart to see Gabe standing there with a boom box above his head. Africa was playing loudly from it.

“Gabriel?” You asked, squinting at him in the rain.

“Glad you guys finally did it! I was going to put you in a musical next.” He said with a sarcastic grin.

"Next time, can you just like talk to us? Or just let us do it on our own?" Sam said, his arms crossing over his chest in annoyance.

"On your own? I wanted you to get there before old age took me." He joked, placing the boom box on the ground. "Alright, alright, I'll take you back to the motel now. Dean has been going crazy for days now." 

“Gabe. Why Y/N and I?” Sam asked.

“Oh, right. Some things are just written in the stars. You were each other’s destiny and heaven was tired of waiting.” He reasoned, as if he was talking about the weather. He said, lifting his fingers.

“Wait!” You said quickly. “Why Africa?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

“It’s a catchy song, had it stuck in my head for days.” He shrugged and didn’t wait for a reply before he snapped his fingers.

Tags: @spnfanficpond​ @watermelonlipstick​ @hot-mess-magee​ @calaofnoldor​ @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ @doctorlilo​ @shelleyj​ @enderroyal​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @manawhaat​ @winchest09​

[waywardnerd67]

Fan Mail

Summary: Jensen has been penpals with a fan for his entire career. Now he wants to meet her to tell her his true feelings for her. He is in for a great surprise to find out who she truly is. Characters: Jensen Ackles, Reader Pairing: Jensen x Reader Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 1706 Prompt: “A fanatic is one who can't change his mind and won't change the subject.” -- Winston Churchill A/N: @spnfanficpond​ Unfic Challenge

(Y/N), I’m sitting in my trailer after wrapping for the last time on Supernatural and I really wish you were here with me. You’ve been my constant companion, my friend throughout all my career and it’s hard to believe we have never met. I want to fix that. I would like to invite you to the Supernatural wrap party in Vancouver. You don’t have to worry about any of the expenses because I will cover them for you. All you have to worry about is bringing you amazing, beautiful self here. I know it’s not a lot of notice which is why I am overnighting this letter to you. Below is my number, just send me a text with your answer. I really want to meet you, (Y/N). It would mean the world to me. Talk to you soon. -J

She reread the letter a few times leaning against the counter. (Y/N) quickly folded the letter and slipped it into her back pocket when the trailer door swung open. The deep, infectious laugh of Jared Padalecki filled the air bringing an instant smile to her face.

“(Y/N)! My favorite person in the whole world!” Jared wrapped his long arms around her and hugged her tight.

She started laughing as he let go of her and flopped down into a chair, “Jared I don’t know if anyone has told you but we wrapped a week ago. You’re supposed to be packing your apartment up to move back home. What are you doing in my chair?”

“My apartment is done and Jensen is sulking around his. I need some sunshine in my life and figured you might need some help packing up the trailer.” His hazel eyes looked around the trailer fondly staring at the wall of photos featuring different looks throughout the years.

(Y/N) smiled softly, “Well I could definitely use your height to get some of the boxes down from our overhead storage.,” she pointed up as he smiled back at her.

After a few hours, (Y/N) and Jared had the whole make-up trailer packed up. An overwhelming sadness tightened around her chest knowing this would be the last time she would ever be inside the trailer of her favorite show. As she turned to look to Jared, she watched in horror as his eyes were skimming a familiar piece of paper. She quickly slid her hand into her back pocket confirming he was indeed reading Jensen’s letter to her.

“Jared…” she said as he looked up at her with his mouth gaping open.

“You’re her! I knew it! I told Jensen it was you. What are the chances that two girls in his life would have the same name. I can’t believe it.” His excitement only made her panic more.

She stepped towards him with her shaking hand reaching for the letter, “Please Jared… just give me the letter.”

He held the letter above his head where she could not reach it, “You’re gonna tell him, right? (Y/N), tell me you’re going to tell him.”

She shook her head, “I-I can’t…”

“(Y/N), you have to tell him. He is moping around his apartment because the wrap party is tomorrow night and hasn’t heard from you. I’ve never seen him like this.” The concern in Jared’s voice made her heart flutter slightly.

He handed her the note and pulled her into a hug, “Between you and me, I think you’re exactly what he needs in his life right now.”

Jared kissed her temple and walked out the trailer door. (Y/N) let out a breath burning within her chest before slumping into one of the chairs and allowing the tears she held to flow freely. After a few minutes, she gathered her things and made her way out to her car. Looking back at the trailer one last time, (Y/N) drove to her apartment downtown. As soon as she was home, she went into her closet pulling out the small chest that held hundreds of letters from Jensen.

She never thought writing a fan letter would put her life on the course it was currently traveling. It started when she tore her ACL at eighteen and ended up watching Days of our Lives as she healed. Instantly, she fell for the blond hair Eric Brady and found that all the actors had a PO Box they received fan letters from. Taking a chance, she wrote Jensen a letter and from there they struck up a friendship. She followed his entire career and he followed her throughout college then theatrical make-up school. When she landed a job on Supernatural, she came face to face with the man who held her heart. Though, he never knew she was the (Y/N) he would write too. Her mail was forwarded from her home in L.A. to Vancouver making Jensen none the wiser that she was his penpal.

(Y/N), Wouldn’t it be amazing if you got a job on Supernatural. I know it would be a long shot, but then we could see each other all the time. It would be nice to have someone other than Jared to hang out with up here. 9 months out of the year with him gets old. I could even take you for a ride in Baby just don’t judge her on how she sounds because it’s not as cool as it is on tv. How did apartment hunting in LA go? Looking forward to your next letter. -J

(Y/N) sat on her bed with the chest open and added Jensen’s latest letter to it. She grabbed her phone pulling up her text thread with Jensen and sent him a message before losing her nerve.

“Hey Jensen, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out and have dinner at my place? Something I need to talk to you about.”

His reply was immediate, “Be there in 30.”

(Y/N) ordered from their favorite Mexican place that would cater on set and anxiously paced around until there was a knock on her door. As she opened it, Jensen was standing next to a delivery man chuckling. He quickly pulled out his wallet and paid for the meal before she could say anything.

Stepping aside, he walked inside looking around her living room. (Y/N) grabbed the bag with their food and made her way towards the kitchen, “Make yourself at home. Would you like a beer?”

“Sure. Thanks for inviting me over. I was looking for an excuse not to pack up my apartment.” Jensen’s deep voice sent goosebumps all over her body.

She took a deep breath before grabbing two beers, a couple of plates and their food. They sat in her living room eating and reminiscing about their time on Supernatural. Conversation between them was natural and easy flowing like water. Once they were done eating and both of them were onto their second beer a comfortable silence fell between them.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Jensen leaned back into her couch and placed his feet up on her coffee table.

(Y/N) swallowed the large lump in her throat before pulling out the chest that contained the truth she had been withholding from him. Sitting at the other end of the couch she placed it between them, “This.”

Jensen sat up looking curiously at her before he opened the lid. He pulled out a letter and once he found what it contained his olive eyes snapped up at her, “You?”

She nodded silently. Watching him ruffle through every letter he had ever sent her was terrifying and liberating. He put out the most recent letter and began chuckling, “I guess you’re already going to the wrap party.”

“Jensen, I know you’re probably mad that I never said anything. I just didn’t know how to approach the subject. I love receiving your letters and didn’t want that to change. With the show ending and knowing you all these years, it wouldn’t be right for you not to know. I’m sorry.” She was rambling until he reached out and grabbed her hand squeezing it.

He set the chest with the letters on the table and moved closer to her, “I told Jared today that if I didn’t hear from my penpal that I was finally going to have the balls to ask you out.”

“And now…” she asked looking up just in time to see Jensen leaning in and pressing his lips against hers.

“Now, we hang out and do some more of this,” he kissed once again, “and we take it day by day.”

“I like the sounds of that.” (Y/N) snuggled into his side as she turned on the tv trying to find something for them to watch.

After a little while Jensen asked, “If you were going to write me another letter, what quote would you have put at the end?”

(Y/N) laughed getting up and grabbing her 1001 Random Quotes book. She had taken to ending her letters with random quotes that she picked by simply randomly opening to a page and blindly pointing at a quote. She did exactly that then started laughing as she read it.

“A fanatic is one who can't change his mind and won't change the subject. -- Winston Churchill” She looked up to see Jensen smiling, “I guess that explains me in a nutshell.”

Jensen slipped his arm around her shoulders pulling out his phone bringing up his camera, “As my biggest fan I think we need to document this important moment,” he snapped a few pictures of them together.

Suddenly, his phone began chiming rapidly with texts while Jensen started laughing, “Well I now owe Jared twenty bucks since he was right all along that you were my fan penpal.”

“I know he found out earlier today. Honestly, who would believe a story that a fan would be penpals with her favorite actor.” She chuckled as he lifted her chin to have their eyes meet.

“You’ve always been more than just a fan to me, (Y/N).” He leaned in kissing before they snuggled with one another on her couch to continue watching a movie.

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

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[thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters]

Calm After the Storm

Summary: A storm brings back memories, and an unexpected gift.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past injury, anxiety, fluff.

Word count: 2.2K

Prompt: ‘Trampoline That Got Sucked Up in a Tornado’

A/N: This is for the Unfic Challenge from @spnfanficpond​ It’s my first time participating in a challenge and I had so much fun turning this prompt into the oneshot it’s become!

Beta: @princessmisery666​

|| JJ’s Masterlist ||

(gif)

An uneasy feeling took hold of you when the bare lightbulb above your head started flickering. It was simply a reminder that big storms had an influence on the town’s electricity, but you couldn’t help seeing it as a bad omen of sorts. As if every flicker went paired with a whispered warning.

Brace yourself. Brace yourself.

And so you did.

Dean had his arms wrapped around you, and at the feeling of your body tightening, he dipped his head to bring his lips to your ear. “You’re okay,” he whispered.

He was trying to soothe you but all you could do was whimper in response. “I hate this.”

Dean didn’t miss a beat. “I know, sweetheart.” One of his hands was in your hair, gently stroking. The other cupped your cheek and lifted your head so your eyes met. “I’m sure it’s not gonna be much longer.”

You knew he was right. Through the anxiety fogging your brain, you could grasp at some common sense. It told you to listen for the wind, or any other sounds coming from outside. The worst was over, you could tell.

It should have calmed you more, but you were still on edge. Ever since the storm a year before, the biggest one in a decade, you were a wreck whenever the weather reports said another was on its way.

Tornados weren’t uncommon where you lived. You were actually more used to them than Dean had been when you moved to this town. Unlike you, he hadn’t grown up in the area and dealt with extreme weather conditions like these for as long as he could remember.

However, your advantage had vanished the moment you got hurt during another one of those storms. It was right after you and Dean moved into the neighborhood. Most houses had still been under construction and it had been a loose wooden beam from one of those constructions that gave you the scare of your life.

You had been cleaning up in the kitchen, when a strong gust of wind forced the beam through the window you were standing only a few feet away from. The impact had shattered both the glass and your left shoulder.

Throughout your recovery, you had seen Dean go from feeling horrified, to being haunted by a heavy dose of guilt you failed to talk him out of, and, eventually, to being overtaken by a sense of determination that had led him to build a storm cellar in your backyard.

One in which you were currently hiding out once again.

“Las Vegas,” Dean spoke quietly into the dimly lit room. “Weekend trip, two years ago.”

Your mind needed a few seconds to catch up, but then you realized what he was doing. It was a game he had invented the first time you were hiding out in the storm cellar. A way to distract you from the fear wrapping tightly around your throat. He would mention a happy memory you two shared, and then you would take turns sharing a specific moment you loved most about it.

This time, you couldn’t respond. You were already finding it hard to focus again, and your body had started to shiver in Dean’s arms despite him already having taken off his jacket and tightly wrapped you in it earlier.

Dean went first instead, he wasn’t giving up. “You wanted to go on that hike,” he said, voice low and soothing. “I remember thinking, ‘A hike, really? There’s so many things to do in this city and she wants to go trekking in the desert?’”

You closed your eyes as you focused on his voice and the rhythm of his hand still stroking your hair.

“But then that sunset happened and the shades of orange light hit your face in a way that knocked the damn ground out right from under me. Even winning the biggest jackpot in town that night wouldn’t have compared to the way I felt when I looked at you on top of that hill.”

Dean kissed your forehead and you nuzzled into his neck. His breath was hot on your cheek, sending the first good kind of shivers down your back since entering the cellar.

“The first night.” Your voice was merely a whisper. You were afraid it would break if you attempted to speak any louder. “You spilled your drink at the restaurant and after you had left for the bathroom to get cleaned up, I heard the people at the table next to us talk about how they thought you peed your pants.”

For a moment, nothing could be heard but the wind outside. Then, Dean’s chest started rumbling beneath yours. His hearty laugh startled you at first, but then you found yourself joining in with a careful chuckle of your own.

“That’s your favorite part of the whole trip?” he asked, but he didn’t sound at all offended. Knowing Dean, he was probably just happy his distraction tactic had proven to be a success once again.

“Well,” you mumbled, already sitting up a bit straighter and feeling less like simply trying to breathe was using up all your energy, “there was also that thing we did afterwards, in the hotel room…”

Dean’s goofy grin sent surges of electricity through your body that made your heartbeat flicker like the lightbulb above your heads. He reached out to pull your face closer to his but right as your lips were about to touch, he paused.

“Listen,” he whispered.

You did as told and immediately understood what he was trying to tell you. Silence. That was all you could hear as the two of you held your breath. The storm outside had to have settled down enough for the noise to have stopped.

“Should-” You licked your lips because they had suddenly gotten dry at the realization you might be heading out into the open. “Should we go back to the house?”

“Only if you’re ready,” Dean said softly, sitting back a bit to give you room to breathe.

You took a moment to think about it. Of course you wanted to stay in the bunker for as long as possible, because you wanted to feel safe as long as possible. But if the storm was over, if the two of you could go into the house again, you’d rather spend the rest of the day there.

Dean stirred when you stayed quiet. “How about I go first?” he suggested gently. He was already moving away from you when he saw the worried look in your eyes. “I’ll only be a minute,” he assured you, placing his hand on yours for just a moment. “Promise.”

You nodded and squeezed his hand before he pulled it away. Within the next few seconds, Dean had gone up the steps and you were left alone. In the dim lighting, you could see your own fingers trembling.

At first you thought it would be a good idea to start counting. After all, Dean had said he would only need a minute. Though you knew that shouldn’t necessarily be taken literally, you thought counting to sixty might help keep you from going stir crazy.

You had to start over a few times because unhelpful thoughts, fueled by worry, tried taking over your brain. You had barely gotten to fifty after the third try when the sound of the latch opening almost made you jump out of your skin.

Light poured into the room and Dean’s head appeared in the opening at the top of the steps. He was smiling at first but when he saw you, hunched over and trembling, his face fell.

You closed your eyes and sighed in relief at the sight of him unhurt. His heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs and then he was next to you again. Arms wrapping around your body, hands covering yours. You could feel him trying to pry your fingers open and you opened your eyes in surprise at the realization you were clenching your hands into fists.

You blinked a few times, looking at the crescent moon imprints in the palms of your hands, where your nails had dug in deep. Dean brushed his large fingers over them, and though his skin was rough, the feeling was soothing.

Dean didn’t say anything, just held you until you eased up again. And that’s when you realized he had left the ledge open. There was still light pouring in, as well as the sound of the wind blowing outside. You took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air.

“It’s all good up there,” Dean finally spoke, his lips so close to your ear you could feel his breath tickle your skin. You weren’t sure that was the reason you got chills, or if it was the thought of going up. But you trusted Dean. If he said it was safe, you would follow him.

You didn’t let go of his hand as the two of you left the bunker. Dean closed the latch behind you while you took a moment to let your eyes adjust to the natural lighting. You took a look around the yard. The place was a bit of a mess. Some of the backyard furniture Dean had tried to secure before the storm, had gotten loose and made its way across the lawn. There was a bunch of trash that had blown over. And there, turned on its side, leaning against the back porch, was something else that didn’t belong in your yard.

“Is that…” you started, a frown on your face.

Dean turned around and followed your gaze. “Yup!” he said, a bit too excitedly for your taste. “Must’ve blown over from one of the neighbors’ backyards.”

You took in the giant trampoline and imagined it being forced up into the air and across multiple properties. The thought of such a dangerous thing caused you to shiver for the umpteenth time that day. Dean noticed and wrapped and arm around you, pulling you close against his warm body.

“Let’s get you inside,” he offered, already leading you over to the backdoor. “I’ll clean up out here. You look like you might enjoy a little nap.”

“That’s just your way of saying I look like crap, isn’t it?” you guessed while making your way through the hallway and up the stairs.

All you could hear was the sound of Dean’s laugh as he disappeared into the kitchen, but it was enough to answer your question.

You woke up feeling relaxed. All stress and anxiety from earlier seemed to have been erased from your muscles and mind. Turning over onto your other side, you spotted the empty teacup on your nightstand.

Dean had come up before you had fallen asleep, to bring you some calming chamomile tea, before he headed into the yard to tidy up. He always knew exactly how to take care of you.

You smiled at the thought of how lucky you were to have a man like Dean in your life, but your face fell the moment you had made your way downstairs and into the backyard. Despite knowing the storm was over, you felt uneasy at the sight of the dark sky. Your hair was swept up by a gust of wind and you shivered.

An unfamiliar sound made you turn your head to the left. There was that trampoline again, the one you noticed earlier before heading into the house. And from the looks of it, the journey which had led it into your yard, hadn’t caused any damage.

It was standing on its steel legs now, looking steady, and creaking steadily every time Dean landed in the middle of the surface, only to be launched back into the air. He twirled and did a backflip before his eyes finally landed on you and he stilled himself.

Dean was smiling from ear to ear, and as you walked closer, you noticed his eyes were twinkling with excitement. He walked over to the edge of the trampoline carefully and held out his hand for you.

“C’mon, give it a try,” he coaxed.

You looked up at him with uncertainty, and there was that beautiful smile again. It made you feel warm inside, chasing away every last bit of anxiety that was left.

The first bounce felt a little unsteady. You needed a moment to get used to it. The last time you jumped on a trampoline was so long ago, you couldn’t even remember when it had been exactly.

Dean joined in after a minute of letting you find your balance.

The two of you laughed and bounced around each other. At some point, Dean came down at the exact time you did, causing you to be thrown up into the air even higher. You squealed happily, closing your eyes as you felt weightless, like you could fly.

You both felt like little kids again. Everything else was long forgotten. The storm, the cellar and the tension. You were free of worry, without a care in the world.

[plaidstiel-wormstache]

My Hero

Summary: When Sam gets hurt on a hunt, Dean learns the truth about Reader, and Reader learns something new about Sam. Word Count: 1524 Characters: Reader, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, monsters, doctors Warnings: Blood, surgical type “gore”, supernatural violence, fluff, crack A/N: this was for the UnFic Challenge by @spnfanficpond​         Beta’d by @butiaintgonnaloveem​ (Gif should be reversed!)

Sam went soaring past me, crashing through the door frame and slamming into the wall, slumping to the ground. "Sam!" I yelled, running to his side, lifting him up, gingerly, to sitting. I looked up at Dean, his eyes still roaming the hall and doorway where Sam had come from. "There's two." Sam coughed out. Dean glanced down as I quickly assessed Sam, he was clearly favouring one side of his body, possible broken ribs. "Stay here, we've got this." Dean instructed. He nodded once at me. I placed a hand on Sam's shoulder as I stood up straight, but he grabbed my wrist as I turned to leave. "Be careful." He wheezed. I smiled and turned, I wouldn't make promises I didn't know I could keep.

I tapped Dean's shoulder as I caught up, stilling outside the doorway for a breath, then we entered the room. He swept right, I swept left and then we swung around, covering our backs. But it didn't matter. The monster was holding himself in the beamwork of the ceiling. The ceiling! As it took Dean out, his gun went flying and they were suddenly grappling on the floor near my feet. But Sam had said two, and I looked up, gun following my line of sight, and there it was. I managed to get off a round as it launched, the controlled pounce turning into a free fall, but it wasn’t dead yet. The gun went sliding along the floor as we both fell to the ground. With adrenaline coursing through my body I managed to beat the beast to the knife strapped to my thigh, and plunged it deep into its chest. It gargled and whined, then went limp. I pushed it off and clambered to the closest gun, turning with it gripped tightly in my hands. The other monster had Dean by the neck, clearly winning the fight. I didn’t hesitate, I trusted my aim, and it collapsed to the side, rolling off Dean. Two monsters dead, all to worry about now was Sam.

I ran out of the room, and dropped to my knees at Sam's side; he had a trickle of blood over his lip and down his chin, he'd paled and his breathing was even shallower than when I'd left. "Sam?" I breathed, running my hand over his hair, brushing it off his face. He tried to smile at me but spluttered, producing more blood. My mind slowed down, everything happened as if in slow motion, my body calmed, my hands steadied; I pulled at his shirt, lifting it up to reveal the cause of the damage, he had a large, purple bruise positioned over his ribs. Broken, as I’d suspected, but with the shallow breathing, he'd probably punctured his lung. I was made aware of Dean's presence by the sharp intake of breath and the low call of Sam's name as he saw the bruise. "I'm sorry Sammy, this is gonna hurt." I said, his eyes widened and looked to Dean for help but I was already reeling back. I punched him - hard. One punch placed perfectly could knock even Mike Tyson out, and I'd landed it. He dropped into my awaiting hand. "What are you--” “Knife.” I demanded. He looked confused, not catching on, “Knife!” He startled, but pulled the clean blade from the back of his waistband, placing it into my awaiting hand. "I need alcohol, whatever kinda spirit you have in the car." I told him, and this time he moved fast. I lowered Sam to the ground, maneuvering him gingerly, so he was lying flat. I unbuttoned his shirt and cut a slit up the middle of his undershirt, exposing his side and the angry bruising. 

Dean burst back through the abandoned cabin and dropped to his knees at my side, laying out the first aid kit and the small bottle of vodka. “I don’t know where this came from, but it was under the seat,” He began to explain, holding out the small bottle of vodka. I snatched it from his hand and unscrewed the top, pouring it over the blade and then washed my hands with it. “What are you--” Dean began, eyes wide. “Make sure he doesn’t move,” I instructed, bedside manner had never been my forte. I splashed more vodka over Sam’s side as Dean positioned himself near Sam’s head, a hand on his shoulder, the other gentle at the top of his head, comforting. "You might wanna look away." I said, but I didn't check to see if he'd paid attention before I sliced a small incision into the bruise over Sam’s side. Blood poured out and I pushed at the swelling to encourage more of the blood to escape, “Jesus, YN--” Dean muttered, but he wasn’t making a move to stop me. I took a loop of the hard and hollow plastic tubing from the kit and sliced it to an angled point, then fed it into Sam's wound, puncturing into the pleural space around the lung, more blood spurted out the top of the tube, but  when it stopped, there was a gurgle. Then Sam took a sharp inhale of air. "Fuck." Dean murmured. I began to pack around the wound and the tube, using anything I could get my hands on from the first aid kit. "We gotta get him to a hospital." I said, finally looking up to see Dean’s pale face.

“What the fuck was that?” Dean asked once the hospital staff had wheeled Sam away. “A test tube thoracost--” “In English.” “I performed a test tube insertion. His lung had been punctured by his rib, and the space around his lung was filling with blood, I had to relieve the pressure, that’s the only way--” "Where did you learn to do that?" He questioned, looking at me as if I were a stranger. I scoffed and sat down in the waiting area, “Did you always wanna be a hunter?” “Yeah,” He said with a definite nod, as if it was a common dream. “Well...” he’d taken the wind out of my sails, “I was in training to be a paramedic when I…” I was beginning to realise he didn’t know the story of how I’d wound up hunting, “ I kinda found myself possessed.” He sat next to me, raking a hand through his hair, shoulders slumped. “I didn’t know that,” He said. “I wasn’t raised in it like you and Sam.” “Yeah, I knew that, but … I figured someone you knew…” He sat back, turning in his seat to look at me, “What happened?” “It’s a long story,” I sighed, letting myself sink into the square plastic seat. “We’ve got time.” 

Sure enough, we did; it was three hours before someone remembered us, coming with forms for Dean to fill out, then a doctor came around, explaining the damage, congratulating me on the “life-saving surgery”, discouraging me from ever doing it again. He explained Sam’s care, to potentially hire a professional if we were going to continue to hang Christmas lights… yeah, panicked thinking wasn’t my strong suit, and a fast mouth wasn’t Dean’s. Then he showed us to Sam’s room, pulling the curtain behind us.

“Hey, Sammy, how you feeling?” Dean cooed as he rounded the bed to stand next to his brother, looking him over. “Groggy, but okay,” Sam managed, voice hoarse after surgery. I noticed the band around his wrist and twisted it, curious to know if he gave a name or they’d taken it from the sheet Dean filled out. “Hey, what happened after…” Sam trailed off, frowning at his lack of memory, “I can’t remember too much,” “Probably for the best,” I muttered, giving him a warm smile when he looked up at me. “She knocked you out then cut you open and stuck a tube in you,” Dean explained. “What?” Sam asked, head whipping to his brother. I sighed loudly, rolling my eyes at Dean. “It was a simple chest tube thoracostomy,” I lied when Sam looked back for explanation. “You know she was a paramedic before all this?” Dean asked. “Well, I mean, I knew you’d studied,” Sam said, eyes wide, face unreadable, questioning and yet in awe. His hand found mine on the bed, and squeezed. “Saved your life though, man,” Dean said, gripping Sam’s shoulder. “You’re amazing,” Sam said, eyes full of adoration, even in the drug induced haze, his eyes shone. “You’re on good pain meds,” I teased, brushing it off before he could make me blush. But his hand squeezed mine, pulling me closer. “You’re my hero,” And he must’ve been on the good stuff, because his blinks got slow, his head seemingly heavy, but he was waiting for a reply, holding sleep off until he got one. “High,” Dean whispered, comically concealing his mouth from Sam’s sight. “I’m no hero, I put my bra on one boob at a time, like everyone else.”

***

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[atc74]

The Reason

Square(s) Filled: Werewolf for (TFW) and Free Space (Broment)

Warnings: Classic case, blood loss, life threatening injury, feminine hygiene products as first aid, surprise fluff ending

Summary: Sam is injured on a hunt and Dean uses unconventional menthods to stem the bleeding until he can get him home to Y/N, Sam’s wife, who just so conveniently happens to be a nurse. 

Pairing: Sam x Nurse!Reader

Word Count: 1072

Written for: @spnfanficpond, @spntfwbingo, @spnbromentbingo

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, the world’s best fuzzy

A/N: I aimed for crack, but it went a whole other way. Please enjoy!

Buy Sam’s scent here from @scentsfromthebunker!

“Sam!” Dean bellowed when a gunshot rang out in the quiet forest. The stupid wolves were smart enough to separate him from his brother. He didn’t know how far apart they were, so he just ran in the direction the shot came from. 

“Sam? Sammy?” Dean called again. 

“Dean.”

He skidded to a stop in a small clearing about a hundred yards from where Dean took down the other wolf. Sam was propped against a rotting tree, the second wolf dead at his feet. He rushed to his brother, but he could see all the blood, even in the shadowy woods. The Impala was about a half mile hike. Dean just prayed that they’d make it in time. They were low on supplies as it was, so he added an extra prayer. “Cas, if you can hear me, Sammy’s hurt pretty bad. I could use an assist on this one.” 

“It’s okay, Sam. I got you. Let’s take a look,” Dean said calmly, but his voice wavered as he got a good look at Sam’s injuries. There were four slashes across his midsection and another four on his left thigh. He ripped his belt from the loops of his jeans and cinched it high around Sam’s upper leg.

“Whoa, easy,” Sam gasped, wincing in pain. 

“Oops, sorry,” Dean chuckled, despite his efforts to hide it. 

“Yeah, laugh it up, Dean. It’s okay to be jealous,” Sam managed a laugh. 

“Oh brother, you ain’t got nothing that makes me jealous,” Dean retorted, pulling Sam to his feet. “We’ve got a ways to hike out of here, think you can make it?” 

“Yeah,” he grunted with the effort, but with Dean’s help, they managed their way back to the car. 

Sam collapsed in the back seat while Dean raided the first aid kit. “Fuck!”

“What’s wrong?” Sam rasped from the backseat. 

“We’re out of quick clot and gauze! I knew I should have restocked, but I was in too much of a damn hurry to get this done,” Dean cursed as he ransacked the trunk, looking for anything. He had two compression bandages, tweezers, rubbing alcohol, duct tape, and a box of tampons. “The fuck?” He showed Sam, and his brother nodded in agreement. 

Dean attended to Sam’s leg first, making sure the tourniquet was still holding and stemming the bleeding. He unwrapped a dozen tampons and, using the duct tape, adhered them to Sam’s injuries. He wrapped the compression bandages tightly around the wounds, then made sure his brother was as comfortable as his giant ass was going to get, bleeding all the over the seats of his baby. Dean got in the front and turned for home. Thankfully the hunt was in their own backyard in the woods of Nebraska, and they were only a couple of hours from the Bunker. 

Dean drove well over the posted speed limit to get his brother back home. All the supplies they had were in the infirmary, along with antibiotics. He was just too lazy and in a hurry to restock Baby’s kit. The music played low in the background so he could hear Sam’s breathing. 

“You know she’s gonna be pissed, right?” Sam coughed. 

“Yeah, I know. But, it’s easier to beg for forgiveness than ask permission with her,” Dean smiled, knowing he’d rather face the wrath of his best friend over something trivial that could easily be replaced, instead of the guilt of letting her husband, his brother, bleed out in the car. 

In just under ninety minutes, Dean eased Baby into the garage and hauled an unconscious Sam from the car. Once inside the door, he screamed for her. “Y/N!” It was late, but he knew she’d be up. He’d already called her to bring her up to speed. 

Y/N rushed down the hall to meet them, hastily dressed in an old flannel and her ratty slippers. “Oh my god, Dean! Would it kill you to tell the truth just once?!” 

He knew she was angry because he’d told her it wasn’t bad and Sam might need a few stitches. “Okay, maybe I under-exaggerated. Beg for forgiveness, right?” 

“You’re lucky I love you,” she shook her head as she helped him carry Sam into the infirmary and into one of the beds. Y/N already had the suture kit out, along with sterile gauze. “Okay, let’s see how bad it really is, Sammy.” 

Y/N slowly peeled away the compression bandages revealing the duct tape underneath it. She cut away the shredded denim and duct tape, leaving the tourniquet in place while she cleaned the wound. “So, who used my tampons?” She smiled up at Dean. 

“Well, supplies were low and they were just laying there. I thought, huh, that’s what they’re made for, right?” Dean reasoned with a shrug of his broad shoulders. 

“You’re not wrong,” she laughed, wiping the blood from Sam’s leg. “But you’re still going out tomorrow to get more. I hope you kept the box.” 

“What? Why me?” Dean scoffed. 

“Because my husband isn’t going anywhere for at least two weeks,” she reminded him, starting the stitches. “Another quarter inch and that wolf would have hit his femoral artery and we’d be building a pyre, not arguing about feminine hygiene products.”

“We got lucky,” Dean remarked quietly. 

“Yeah, he did,” she said. “Wait, you said ‘we’.”

“Yeah, because we did. Luckiest day of our lives, the day you crashed into it,” Dean recalled with a laugh. “I was so pissed at you for hitting my baby, but I knew right away that one tiny scratch was going to change our lives forever, for the better.”

“I knew it was tiny! And, you made such a big deal out of it!” Y/N pointed her finger. 

“It gave you and Sammy plenty of time, didn’t it?” he smirked. “It, ah, looks like you’ve got this. I’m gonna hit the shower. I’ll bring him a change of clothes when I come back.” 

“You know, I got pretty lucky that day, too,” she looked up at him. He didn’t reply, just smiled and left her with Sam. 

“Are you going to tell him you won’t need those tampons for like eight months?” Sam murmured, his eyes opening. 

“Nah, not just yet. We need a good laugh,” Y/N decided, looking down at her husband. “Thanks for living.” 

“Thanks for being the reason, and for giving me one more.”

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

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[1000roughdrafts]

Cat-astrophe

Written for @spnfanficpond​‘s unfic challenge with the prompt “I may have accidentally sort of adopted 5 cats.”

Warnings: fluff, stern!Dean,

Word Count: 1K

A/N: I hope this counts as “accidentally” adopting 5 cats lol ALSO this is an AU!Dean X Reader.

Curled up under a blanket on the floor of your bathroom, you stroke one of the five kittens on the head. “Good girl,” you coo, smiling at the little grey kitten. You giggle when her brother nudges his head into your hand for a pet, pushing his little sister out of the way.

She retaliates by pouncing on him, and they roll in a tussle while the three others nap away in a little fluffy circle. Dean will have a cow you think. One of the kittens clumsily climbs onto your lap, curling up in a little ball, her body shaking with her purrs.

“He’ll come around, cuddle bug,” you smile at the little kitten.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but caring for five kittens all day has exhausted you, and the firm pounding on the door startles you awake. “Hm?” you hum, slowly opening your eyes to see that two of the other kittens have joined their sister in your lap.

Sliding the blanket off of you, you’re careful to keep them asleep and in place as you wiggle to stand.

“Y/N!” Dean panics, pounding on the door again.

You quickly open it just enough to push your way out, closing it behind you with your finger to your lips.

“Jesus, Y/N, I’ve been calling your name for ten minutes. I was about ready to burst through the door,” he says in a breath, “the hell are you doing in there?”

You trace your palm with your finger, keeping your eyes on your hand until he lets out a hum. Looking up at him, you pull your hands to your sides, “I was sleeping,” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheeks to keep from smiling.

“What?” he says with a shake of his head. “In the bathroom? Why?” he says, face twisted in confusion.

“Because,” you say softly, playing with your shirt, “I may have accidentally sort of adopted five cats,” you say, “and they’re getting used to where things are,” you trail off allowing your smile to show. You know Dean only hears the words “adopted” and “cats” by his reaction. His eyes widen, and eyebrows raise.

“You what?” he scolds, tone stern. His eyes beg you to tell him you’re joking.

You crack open the door and urge him to look in. He glances you over, keeping his expression as if giving you one last chance to come clean about the prank you must be pulling on him before taking a step to glance in.

He looks around the bathroom, and by the sounds of bells and claws against the linoleum floor, you can picture the five of them playing with the toys you bought, all pouncing over each other.

Dean slowly backs out and closes the door, keeping his back to you while he collects himself. When he turns around to face you, his face is relaxed, but there’s fire in his eyes.

“Y/N,” he says softly, “how the hell do you accidentally adopt five kittens?” he says, jaw tense. “Do you have any idea what our house is going to be like? Smell like?” he says, nose crinkling.

Throwing your hands onto his arms, you stroke his skin, “not if I clean the litter boxes regularly,” you say quickly. “Come on, Dean, you know how much I love cats,” you say with a little bit of a pout.

“Where did they come from?” he asks.

“They were tied under some bushes outside the supermarket. I went to go get groceries and the second I got out of my car I could hear them screaming. It was really hot, they were miserable,” the words all come out quickly, and you take a deep breath.

He sighs, relaxing, “that was really sweet of you to save them, Y/N, but that doesn’t mean they’re your -our- responsibility. Couldn’t you take them to the shelter?”

“I tried the shelter, Dean. They said they didn’t have any room left,” you say in a sigh, “which means-”

He cuts you off with a wave of his hand, rolling his eyes, “I know what it means,” he says with a sigh. His eyes bounce between yours for a moment before he opens the bathroom door again, greeted by a purring kitten. As he takes a step in you watch Cuddle Bug rub her head against his shin, and the faintest of smiles flashes on Dean’s face.

He turns to face you, pushing the bathroom door open a little wider, “how old are they?”

You shrug, “shelter’s vet looked them over and said possibly three maybe four months old.”

He nods slowly, looking back at you before kneeling down to stroke Cuddle Bug on the head. “Are they fixed?”

“I have no idea,” you say with a shrug, “I’m assuming they aren’t, given the state they were in when I found them,” you say.

Dean gently picks up Cuddle Bug and stands, smiling slightly when she rubs her head against his scruff.

“Aren’t they adorable?” you smile, feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning.

He only nods, stroking Cuddle Bug’s fur as she purrs away in his arms.

“So does this mean we get to keep them?”

He glances at you, eyebrows raised. “We need to get them fixed ASAP,” he says and you smile. “But you love them, and I love you, so,” he shrugs, putting the kitten back on the ground to kiss you on the forehead. “You did good saving them, Y/N/N,” he says, pulling you into a hug.

“Yeah, I know,” you smile.

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[spnfanficpond]

Welcome to the Spn Fanfic Pond’s Unfic Challenge: Round 3!

The Unfic Challenge is all about prompts that are the opposite of inspirational. They are pretty much anti-prompts and should leave you more confused than inspired when you see them. Each round consists of 10 ‘object’ prompts, 10 quotes, and 10 images with up to two people writing for each prompt. This is the third of three rounds of the challenge that will span over the year. (And isn’t 2020 just freaking perfect for this?)

RULES

Must be a member of the @spnfanficpond​

SIGN UPS ARE OPEN UNTIL UNTIL WE HAVE TWO PEOPLE PER PROMPT.

ALL FICS ARE DUE BY JANUARY 15TH!

All fics must be tagged #UNFIC CHALLENGE within the first 5 tags AND submitted to the pond for reposting.

Sign ups are first come, first serve. If we do not have two participants per prompt by the end of sign ups then you may request a second prompt AFTER posting your first one.

Any fics over 500 words MUST have a keep reading and warnings must be posted before the fic starts. (See the Pond’s official suggested format here.)

Send an ask to the pond or IM @mrswhozeewhatsis​ or @manawhaat​ with the ONE prompt you’d like to sign up for and be prepared with backups in case the prompt you want is already taken.

If there are unclaimed prompts, you may sign up for a second prompt only AFTER you’ve completed your first one.

If you have any questions, please contact us so we can get things sorted for you straight away. Thank you, have fun, and check out the prompts below!

Object Prompts:

Titanic

Baby vomit

Fuzzy leopard-print slippers

USPS priority mail boxes ( @moosekateer13​ )

Tiny Tim - Tiptoe Through the Tulips

Africa - Toto ( @sams-sass​ )

Foam pit

Cow tipping

Northern Exposure ( @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ )

M.A.S.H. ( @fictionalabyss​ )

Quote Prompts:

“Conquering Russia should be done steppe by steppe.” 

“I’m like, 75% sure this won’t explode on us.”

“You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen.” ( @percywinchester27​ )

“There is no such thing as ‘too cold to snow’.”

"So what if I broke my arm, I’m still doing it.”

"Great things are not done by impulse, but by a series of small things brought together."– Vincent van Gogh

“I may have accidentally sort of adopted five cats.” ( @1000roughdrafts​ )

“The thingy! You know... the thingy that’s attached to the thing.”

“I never know how much of what I say is true.” -- Bette Midler

“I should know better than to approach any window here boldly and without trepidation.”

“Why exactly do you need chloroform at 2AM?”

Image Prompts:

#1

#2

#3

#4

#5

#6

#7

#8

#9

#10

WE’LL BE UPDATING THIS POST WITH PEOPLE WHO’VE SIGNED UP, SO KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR THE PROMPTS YOU WANT!

**All images pulled from the armpit of the internet. We do not take credit for what we found, though, we kinda wish we could.

[mrswhozeewhatsis]

This is not a pairing I ever would have come up with by myself, but damn, I totally get it here! Everything is so true to the characters, too! Ash would totally do something like this, in his spare time. And Dean would totally allow Ash to use him as a guinea pig throughout the whole thing. I love this!

Side note: What would the ship make for this be? Dash? 😂

Feel The Music

Title: Feel The Music

Characters: Ash x Dean. 

Prompt: ‘Carlos Santana’ for @spnfanficpond​ Unfic Challenge (round 1). 

Warnings: Ash level crazy, crack, pining, fluff, technologically/electronically induced sexual pleasure, a single butt plug, blowjob, idiots to lovers. And they were roommates! 

Word Count: 3.7k

A/n: Late entry for unfic round 1. This is AU!Dean set at MIT with Dean and Ash as roommates. THANK YOU @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @sebbytrash​ and @samsexualdeancurious​ for your feedback and amazing beta skills while I tinkered with this. Thanks for reading! 

When Dean saw the room listing online, he swore it was too good to be true. The apartment was badass, close to campus, had everything he needed, and was cheap enough to be a dream. It was only when he went to finally see it in person that he saw the other shoe drop with three simple words. 

“Hey, I’m Ash.” 

It had taken Dean a while to mull over his decision, but he figured a weird roommate was just part of the college experience. How, exactly, Ash got into MIT baffled Dean at first, but the longer Dean lived with him, the more of Ash’s quiet brilliance he saw. Ash was razor sharp, precise, focused and detailed. Hidden behind his redneck exterior, complete with mullet and cut off flannels, was a literal genius capable of just about anything.  

Keep reading

[mrswhozeewhatsis]

Does all this Pond drama/in fighting garbage cancel the Unfic challenge? Just curious cause I’ve nearly finished my fic and will be sorely disappointed if it was all for not.

I haven’t had a chance to chat with Mana, yet, and she took the reigns on the challenge. My first thought is that we would still make a masterlist of submitted fics for the challenge and post it, but Mana might have even better ideas. Either way, I don’t want anyone’s efforts to go to waste. If nothing else, tag me and I’ll reblog your stories. ♥

[cleighwrites]

Now Available on Patreon

Steam Shower

This is a sequel to Hott Yoga (Destiel - Yoga AU) that takes place immediately after the class. The title gives the whole thing away, they share a steamy shower! It’s basically 3k of smangst in crack form...

Will post to Tumblr Wednesday, January 22.

Sex Ed

This fills my first square on my Broment Bingo card, and is my entry into the Pond’s Unfic Challenge. It can stand alone, but takes place in my Branching Out/Love, Lies, & Lap Dances AU. Dean, 17, gives Sammy, 13, some advice on how to take care of... himself. (The aesthetic was a birthday gift from @deanwinchesterswitch 😘)

Will post to Tumblr Thursday, January 23.

Coming Soon: more bingo card fills as requested by my patrons!

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[princessmisery666]

Dean being all sweet and fluffy is just what your Sunday needs!! 💜💜💜

Calm After the Storm

Summary: A storm brings back memories, and an unexpected gift.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past injury, anxiety, fluff.

Word count: 2.2K

Prompt: ‘Trampoline That Got Sucked Up in a Tornado’

A/N: This is for the Unfic Challenge from @spnfanficpond​ It’s my first time participating in a challenge and I had so much fun turning this prompt into the oneshot it’s become!

Beta: @princessmisery666​

|| JJ’s Masterlist ||

(gif)

An uneasy feeling took hold of you when the bare lightbulb above your head started flickering. It was simply a reminder that big storms had an influence on the town’s electricity, but you couldn’t help seeing it as a bad omen of sorts. As if every flicker went paired with a whispered warning.

Brace yourself. Brace yourself.

And so you did.

Dean had his arms wrapped around you, and at the feeling of your body tightening, he dipped his head to bring his lips to your ear. “You’re okay,” he whispered.

He was trying to soothe you but all you could do was whimper in response. “I hate this.”

Dean didn’t miss a beat. “I know, sweetheart.” One of his hands was in your hair, gently stroking. The other cupped your cheek and lifted your head so your eyes met. “I’m sure it’s not gonna be much longer.”

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[stu-recs]

Great use of the prompt!!

My Hero

Summary: When Sam gets hurt on a hunt, Dean learns the truth about Reader, and Reader learns something new about Sam. Word Count: 1524 Characters: Reader, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, monsters, doctors Warnings: Blood, surgical type “gore”, supernatural violence, fluff, crack A/N: this was for the UnFic Challenge by @spnfanficpond​         Beta’d by @butiaintgonnaloveem​ (Gif should be reversed!)

Sam went soaring past me, crashing through the door frame and slamming into the wall, slumping to the ground. “Sam!” I yelled, running to his side, lifting him up, gingerly, to sitting. I looked up at Dean, his eyes still roaming the hall and doorway where Sam had come from. “There’s two.” Sam coughed out. Dean glanced down as I quickly assessed Sam, he was clearly favouring one side of his body, possible broken ribs. “Stay here, we’ve got this.” Dean instructed. He nodded once at me. I placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder as I stood up straight, but he grabbed my wrist as I turned to leave. “Be careful.” He wheezed. I smiled and turned, I wouldn’t make promises I didn’t know I could keep.

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[fictionalabyss]

New this week. Feb 10th - 14th 2020

Patreon.

Who wouldn’t be angry. (Past!DeanxReader)

Summary : Fill for SPNFanficPond Unfic challenge - Things didn’t exactly end well with Dean. Not when he finished off your cereal and bailed.  3 years after first hearing of Dean Winchester’s ‘death’, you finally come face to face with him again.

Glorified babysitter. (John x Reader)

Summary :  Written for my tumblr 3k and angsty. Just when you think things are going good, John decides it's time to end it.

Castiel’s trench coat. (Dean x Reader)

Summary : Dean’s secret crush isn’t as secret as he thought when he comes home to find you waiting for him in Castiel’s trench coat and nothing else. More than happy to enjoy this small taste of what he’s wanted for years, Dean has no idea what exactly is in store for him.

Protector #2 : 2:38 am. (Dean x Reader)

Summary : Protector is now posting to Patreon! Dean left his number with Alex, and your son has no shame in calling in the middle of the night.

Tumblr.

Mobster’s Wife #25 : What did you do? (Sam x Plussize!Reader)

Summary : There is only one chapter left, and things are starting to happen. We find out what’s been happening, the planning, the secrets, they’re all coming out.