#who are they? whats their deal? what are their sammy orders!

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

oop, idiot doodles alert-

[artyandink]

whiskey, baby

SUMMARY: Dean’s no longer a demon, and in order to deal with the horrors of all that he’s said and done he retreated into his own shell. Drowning himself in whiskey and his own problems because that’s all there’s left to do. Then there’s you, his demon self’s esteemed fuck buddy, who comes up with a two step plan to feeling good, only for a little while. Step 1? Let you take the reins. Step 2? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

TW: MOC!Dean, angst, demon trauma, post demon!Dean, Reader’s not a stone cold bitch and actually worries about Dean in this but in her own weird way, Dean doesn’t hate her for an odd reason, smut

STW: switch!Dean, riding, oral (m + f receiving), temperature + whiskey play, lipstick play (does it count?), marking, switch!reader, thigh riding (brief), pussydrunk!Dean, fingering, face sitting, ass slapping, thigh slapping, slight overstimulation, ring kink implied, major praise kink, dirty talk, damage of clothes, vocal Dean, threat of exhibitionism

A/N: Yes, this is a sequel to lipstick, baby, and you guys can make the comparison between Dean as a demon during the smutty parts and Dean post demon and more aware. Hope you enjoy!

NOW PLAYING: RIVER - BISHOP BRIGGS

Dean felt kinda empty, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. Being a demon didn’t suit him at all, and now that it was over he was left to deal with the reality of it all. The killing, punching people’s lights out, hurting Sammy, hurting in general— he hated it with every fibre of his fucking being.

“Fuck.” Dean growled under his breath, staring at himself in the mirror and finding he just couldn’t damn do it, looking away after barely five seconds because holy hell, he wanted to smash the mirror in just to please the Mark throbbing on the skin of his forearm. “Shut up, why don’t you, you… I don’t even know what you are.” He hissed at the Mark, but it didn’t shut up or stop pulsing.

The bunker door being banged on drew his attention away from his own flaws - thank God, if the bastard even existed - and prompted Dean to walk out of his bathroom, grunting an affirmation that yes, he was coming to whoever was behind the door.

When he wrenched it open with an expression that looked like the human equivalent of a ticked off chihuahua, he saw… you. Oh, fuck, oh, shit, you. The woman that he as a demon had incredible sexual escapades that may or may not have been the star of his dreams for weeks on end after the whole demon thing got cured. Pouring the whiskey on your body, you riding him till you both were spent— it felt almost lucid.

“You.” Dean murmured hoarsely, his throat feeling dry upon the sight of you and your gorgeous, sexy self. Today you were in denim shorts and fishnet tights - of course you were in something that made his senses go wild - with the same red plaid that was buttoned up this time, tucked in and the sleeves rolled to your elbows.

He kind of felt a little out of place. Out of place in his own home— that’s the kind of effect you had.

“Gee, how enthusiastic.” You drawled, leaning against the doorframe, brown paper bag clutched in one hand. “I really thought you’d be more inclined to see me, Dean, I’m partially offended.” You gave him a cheeky smirk, then grasped what was in the bag, showing him the neck of a bottle of Jack.

Oh. That changes things.

Dean’s lip twitched up at the sight, warming up to you like he would when drinking the good stuff. Then again, he knew that deep in that roughed up heart of his, he had a soft spot for you in particular. “That’s my girl.” He took the bottle, examining it with a chuckle as he let you inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

“So, Dean, how’ve you been?” You asked, following behind him, your boots clicking on the tile of the bunker’s floor. You looked around, pouting in approval at what you saw. Place was damn impressive. But you were also perceptive to Dean. The way he clutched that bottle like a vice, the slight tightness in his gait, the set of his brow. All subtle, but you’d had sex with this man enough times to know when something bothers him.

What? You were perceptive during sex too, you’re not only in it for the physical stuff. You’re not a monster.

However, Dean just shrugged, making a grumble of an ‘eh’, ambling with you towards his bedroom. “As good as a man can be, sweetheart. You?” Bullshit.

“I mean, how’ve you really been?” The question stopped him dead in his tracks, and he swallowed, eyes furtively glancing to you in a way that screamed ‘oh, shit’. But he didn’t say anything, just prompted him to trudge up to his bedroom, you following, rolling your eyes.

Dean Winchester was the sexiest man alive, but… my god, was he irritating sometimes.

“Three fingers, sweetheart?” Dean asked you as you stepped over the threshold to his bedroom, the guns and random trinkets he’d collected adorning the place as usual. His bed was messy, pillow and blanket askew, which he tried to sort out but only ended up messing it up further.

You smirked, winking as you closed the door behind you, kicking off your boots and moving to sit beside him on the bed, cross legged while he was propped on his hand, legs outstretched. “You know I can take it, handsome, don’t be shy.”

Dean couldn’t stop the visual from popping up in his head. Damn demon him for being so attracted to you. Then again, he couldn’t really say anything.

He poured you three fingers of whiskey in a glass and handed it to you with a soft grunt under his breath, his eyes flicking over you for the umpteenth time before pouring his own. “Here y’ go.”

“Cheers.” You smiled, clinking your glass with his before sipping some of it. “I know you better than you think, y’ know that? You’re struggling, even a blind man can see that one.”

Dean just grunted again, shaking his head. “M’ fine, darlin’. Don’t sweat it.”

“Don’t sweat it? Damn, you really are struggling.” You snorted, taking another sip of your whiskey. “C’mere, babe.”

Dean scooted closer, clearly not anticipating how your lips would ghost his jaw before pressing an open mouthed kiss to it, humming and sucking on the skin, making his breath hitch and eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. “Darlin’—”

“Shh.” You continued kissing down his stubble, drawing a quiet moan from him, not protesting as you plucked the whiskey from his hands and set it on the bedside table, guiding his hand to your hair.

Fuck. This is what he gets, for not having a woman’s touch in a while.

“Mm, baby.” Dean couldn’t help but groan, especially as your hands pulled off his flannel — wait, when did you unbutton that thing? — and tossed it aside, his back hitting the mattress, eyes hazy and hands flying to your soft thighs as you straddled him.

Not like he was roofied, he just felt so drunk. Not on whiskey, but on you, your lips, your gorgeous body.

Now he saw why his demon self liked you so much.

He exposed his neck to you, which earned a hum of approval from you, your hand cupping the side of it as your thumb brushed his pulse. “Attaboy.” You whispered, one hand smoothing back his hair (the whimper that left him was almost embarrassing). “Lemme take your mind off things.”

You returned the favour from the first time, grabbing the whiskey glass and pouring the contents on his chest, the cold compared with your warm body making Dean shiver.

His belt clattered to the floor.

Jeans went after.

And your tongue was on his chest.

Dean didn’t think he’d ever seen something filthier in his life, it rivalled the likes of Casa Erotica— your tongue flattening against the divots and ridges of his muscle as you collected the burn of the whiskey on your tongue, moving down and down, kissing his v-line, nuzzling his thighs.

“Don’t you stop, sweetheart.” Dean pleaded, voice strangled, hips bucking as your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down and freeing his cock, which was already needy for you.

Damn, the effect you had on him was ethereal.

You chuckled, licking from his base to his tip while your thumb spread his precome, his hips bucking into your hand with a needy whine. “Not gonna stop, don’t you worry.”

“Gonna taste you,” He panted, his skin glowing already with a thin layer of sweat as his hand twisted in your hair, “when this is done. Mark my words, pretty girl, gonna eat you dumb— son of a bitch.”

“Looking forward to it.” You murmured before you took him into your mouth, working him fast while grinding into the bed.

The sight of him with his head tossed back, eyes rolled and freckled cheeks flushed like that was incredibly hot, ok? Don’t blame a woman.

You pulled off him to suck at his tip, which had him fisting the sheets, eyebrows furrowed in bliss. “So good, handsome. Taste so good.” You murmured, which earned you a sinful whimper.

Praise kink. Noted.

Your signature scarlet lipstick smeared on him — good — and left your mark, sucking and licking until Dean came, spilling into your mouth, but you’re a trooper, so you swallowed the whole thing.

Before you could register, however, you were being yanked up the bed and Dean’s hands were undoing your shorts, shoving them down — ripping your panties — and taking your fishnets to your knees, hauling you onto his face and barely letting you register before his tongue fucked into your soaking pussy, your eyes rolling back like his did, moaning in sync as one hand shot to the headboard and the other his hair.

His hands were so fucking reverent, gliding up your thighs, kneading them, one moving to deliver a light smack and grope to your ass, moaning when you began to grind down onto his tongue because you just couldn’t help it.

And then his hand slid up your back, around to your front, unbuttoning your plaid so his fingers could pay extra attention to your nipples (you would obviously show up to his house braless, y’all out there’d understand) as one long, thick finger thrusted up into your pussy, ring pressing against your g-spot in a way that had his name tearing from your throat.

How was normal Dean better than demon Dean? Or Deanmon. Whatever, either way, he was fucking you right.

“What if Sammy comes back, huh?” Dean growled into your cunt, licking every inch of it while he pushed a second finger into you, then a third, stretching you out and sending vibrations and electricity through your body. “Gonna give him a show, sweetheart? Show him how much you fucking need me?”

He ripped an orgasm from you, drinking it up like he was parched before flipping you over, getting your plaid off and entering you in one clean stroke while his mouth enveloped your nipple, sucking and nibbling.

“Shit, Dean!” You cried out, the first coherent sentence you could make since you rode his face and even that meant don’t you dare stop. And if any other man threatened you with exhibitionism you’d probably slap him and leave.

But this was Dean Winchester, so you’d make a thousand exceptions as long as he fucked your legs out.

He marked your neck, pounding into you like he just couldn’t help it, entwining your hands and pinning them above your head. “F-Fuck, baby girl. So tight— shit. Could fuck this pretty pussy forever.” He rolled over, putting you on top, and you took the cue to ride him, moans in tandem as Dean reached down to rub your clit. “Ride me, baby, c’mon. Give it to me, need it all. Please, need all’a you.”

Well, how could you say no?

“So good,” You panted, which earned a whimpering moan from Dean. “Gonna give it all to you, promise.” You clenching around him and his cock’s ride brushing your g-spot and all of it reaching places you didn’t know you had sent you over the edge, and before you’d realised it, he’d come before you with a strangled grunt of your name, hands moving to your hips to help you through your high despite being in it himself.

Once you’d come down from your high, and he his, you pulled off him, collapsing on the bed next to him, both of you flushed red, panting and so damn satisfied.

“C’mere.” Dean rasped, holding a hand out to you, and you were confused. The hell is he doing? “C’mere, baby.” He looked positively wrecked — you most likely did too — but that didn’t distract you.

“Why?” You tilted your head, pushing sweaty strands out from your face.

“To cuddle, why else?” Wow, he was a secure man, saying it outright like that. “I wanna hold you, sweetheart.”

He didn’t hold you as a demon. Nobody had.

So you scooted up to him, laying your head on his chest and allowing his arm to rest around your waist, other one acting as a pillow underneath his head.

Dean felt upset that demon him hadn’t taken the courtesy to hold this gorgeous woman, but now’s not the time to address that.

“Thank you, gorgeous,” He kissed your hair, “I needed that.”

𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐤 / 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝

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[percyluvr]

sam winchester x fem!witch!reader summary: you're unaware of your witchy heritage, or even the existence of the supernatural, until two hunters come waltzing into your life claiming that you and your mother are witches wc: 9802 warning: pre-bunker era supernatural, violence (not a lot but enough to warrant a warning, i think), not proofread dedicated to my only (i think) pjo + spn moot, skye

“You’re up early, Sammy,” Dean says, looking into the doorway at his brother wiping sweat off his forehead. “And sweaty.”

“Yeah, I went for a jog. You should try it, it’s good for you. Plus, it’s nice outside.”

“Right, no thank you. Sleep is essential to keep looking this good.”

“Alright, man, if you say so,” Sam replies, disgust apparent on his face.

“Whatever. Listen to this,” Dean starts. “A middle-aged woman in Tupelo, Mississippi, was found dead last night with all of her teeth missing, and some freaky ass carving of some horned thing on her chest. Her husband came home and found her lying on the bathroom floor. Apparently she didn’t die until after she made it to the hospital, though, so whoever or whatever did this wanted it to be long and painful.”

“Huh. Sounds creepy.”

“Exactly. So what do you think? Our kind of gig?” Dean asks, fully knowing they were going to go find out either way.

“Yeah, definitely. Y’wanna head out now or get something to eat?”

“I’m hungry as hell. I need a burger before we deal with this.”

“I feel you. Well, not the burger part, but I’m definitely gonna need food before we head out.”

“Let’s hit the town then, see what there is to eat here,” Dean says, grabbing his jacket and shrugging it over his shoulders before walking out the door, Sam following after grabbing his laptop and jacket of his own.

****

After driving for a bit, they find a small, semi-trashy diner.

"I can't believe this is the only decent looking place in this whole town," Dean complains.

"I mean, what do you expect? We're in a town with a population below three thousand."

"Right. The food better be good or else I'll be pissed. Give me that menu," he grumpily demanded.

"Their salad looks good."

"Yeah, real funny. I'm gonna get that special edition deluxe baconator," Dean said excitedly, mood immediately improving at the sight of a greasy burger on the menu.

Sam makes a face, about to say something, but is interrupted by the waitress arriving at the table.

"You boys ready to order or do you need more time?" She asks, eyeing Dean.

"Oh, we're ready," Dean flirts.

Sam rolls his eyes. "I'll get the, uh, shake it up salad."

"Okay, and for you?" She asks Dean.

"I'll get that deluxe baconator."

"Got it, I'll be back in a sec."

She starts walking away, Dean eyeing her every step of the way.

"Seriously, dude?" Sam asks in disgust.

"Yeah, look at her, dude. Tell me you don't want a piece of that."

"Alright, man, enough. As soon as we finish we're getting right out of here, no flirting."

"Whatever. Don't be jealous you never get laid."

Sam rolls his eyes as the waitress walks over with a salad in one hand and Dean's burger in the other.

"Thank you," Dean says, giving her a wink. Sam sighs exasperatedly for what feels like the six hundredth time today.

"You've got to stop that."

"Stop what? I'm just appreciating the beauties of the world."

"Yeah, I'm ignoring you now. Eat your food so we can go."

"Who died and made you boss?" Dean mutters.

Sam ignores him, and proceeds to wolf down his salad.

"Little hungry there?" Dean asks.

"Last time I checked, I was the one that went for a three mile jog this morning, not you, so I'll eat all I want, thanks."

"Just asking, don't get your panties in a twist."

"Whatever, I'm done eating."

Dean wolfs down the rest of his greasy, and in Sam's opinion, disgusting burger, managing to nearly choke on it twice, then stands up and walks toward the counter. He turns around and mouths 'getting her number,' and raises his eyebrows twice at Sam, who just rolls his eyes in response.

Sam shakes his head and walks out to the Impala, assuming that Dean is flirting, with a side of paying for their breakfast.

He opens the shiny black door of his brother's 1967 Chevy Impala and sits down on the beige seat, looking out the window at the diner. Moments later, the door opens and Sam sees Dean’s smug smile and a small piece of paper being waved around in the air.

When Dean sits down in his car, he immediately looks at Sam. “And that is how it’s done by a true master of charm,” he boasts, putting the key in the ignition and shifting to reverse.

“Good for you. I can get girls’ numbers too, y’know. I’m not celibate, or whatever crap you call me.”

“Sure, Sammy. Whatever makes you feel better. But if you really think you can get a girl’s number instead of me, you’re mistaken. So, whoever gets the number of the hottest girl wins.”

“That’s stupid, I’m not doing that.”

“We’ll see.”

“No, we won’t see. I’m focusing on the case.”

Sam sees Dean smirk in response as they pull out of the parking lot. He clenches his jaw in annoyance.

****

Halfway on the way to Tupelo, Sam asks, “So what do you think we’re looking at here? ‘S not everyday we work a job like this.”

“Honestly? No idea. Not a big fan of the carving on the chest, either. Never seen a symbol like that before.” 

"Great," Sam grumbles, and for the rest of the car ride his thoughts were full of possibilities of what they could be hunting.

****

Four hours later, the Impala rolls into Tupelo, and the first building they see is a fairly decent looking motel, which they decide to spend the night in. After checking into the motel, they carry their bags into the room, immediately grabbing out their fake FBI badges and cheap costume suits.

After quickly changing, they head out to the Impala. “Ready to see every dentist’s nightmare?” Dean jokes.

“Actually, pretty sure that would be you. I can’t remember a day where you didn’t eat some kind of candy or tooth rotting food,” Sam says. “Or even brushed your teeth for that matter.”

“Dude, I brush my teeth.” Sam raises his eyebrow. “Sometimes.”

Sam scoffs. “Yeah, right. Your breath smells like a dead person.”

****

Dean parks the Impala in front of a white two-story house in some, as Dean says, stuffy suburban neighborhood. They get out of the car and walk over to the house, Sam knocking on the front door.

A man, the woman's husband, Sam assumes, opens the door.

“Mr. Feezerman, we'd like to talk to you about your wife,” Sam says, flashing his fake badge.

“Thank God the FBI is involved. The cops here have no idea what's going on. Come in,” Mr Feezerman says, gesturing for them to come in.

Dean sits down on the couch, leaving Sam standing next to it.

“Mr. Feezerman, do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Sam asks.

“Go right ahead. It’s upstairs, the second door on the left.”

“Thanks,” Sam says with a little nod of his head.

Upstairs in the bathroom, Sam searches through the drawers for a hex bag, but comes up empty. He moves onto checking the cabinet below the sink, but still nothing. He finally looks in the medicine cabinet and finds a small brown cloth tied together by a leather string.

"Damn it," he grumbles.

He grabs the bag and heads back downstairs after putting it in his pocket.

He reaches the bottom of the stairs and sees Dean turn to look at him. Sam gives him a nod indicating his search was successful.

"Alright, that's all, thank you, Mr. Feezerman," Dean says.

****

"Alright, so what are we thinking?" Dean asks.

"Well, based on the hex bag I found, I'm thinking witch. And not some beginner level witchcraft, either, dude. I'm talking ancient witchcraft, warts, wrinkles, and all."

"Awesome," Dean groans.

"Yeah. And I'm thinking it's not just one witch, either. Witches this strong usually form covens to protect themselves."

"Awesome times two," Dean says, furrowing his eyebrows and grimacing.

"Well, what did you get? She have any enemies?"

"Her husband said that her and some of the other prissy ladies were in some sort of book club or whatever he said, I wasn’t really listening. I was thinking about that waitress from before,” Dean says dreamily.

“Dude, focus.”

“Right, anyways. Apparently, he found out through some lady she was friends with that she was cheating on her husband with one of the other lady’s husbands. Say that five times fast.”

“Sounds complicated, but also like we have some clear suspects.”

“Right. The book club or wine club or whatever it is these trophy wives do with their free time.”

“Dude, chill with the ‘I hate cookie-cutter families’ thing.”

“My bad.”

“You wanna head to the morgue or talk to suspects?”

“I’ll go to the morgue, you talk to suspects. I can’t handle any more of these people.”

“Alright. Did you get any names or addresses?”

“Obviously. This isn’t my first hunt,” Dean says, rolling his eyes.

“Alright, man. Take me to the first house.”

****

When they reach the first house, Sam gets out of the car.

“Meet back here in 30?” Sam asks.

“Uhh, y’know what? I think I’ll come with.” 

“What happened to not being able to handle any more of these people today?”

“Well that is one cougar just begging to be tamed,” Dean says, eyeing up the woman sitting on the porch.

“Disgusting, seriously.”

“Don’t hate the player.”

“Shut up.”

They walk up the pathway and up the stairs. When they reach the porch, the blonde woman gets up from her spot on the swing.

“Hello, boys, how can I help you?” She asks.

“FBI, we have a few questions about Amelia Feezerman,” Dean says, holding up his fake badge.

“Oh, dear. Come inside, then,” she says, leading them inside to the living room.

“So, nice place you got here,” Sam says.

“Oh, thank you,” she says, and before she can continue, Sam hears the pitter-patter of feet on the floor. “Honey, the cookies look delicious. Hopefully you two like chocolate chocolate chip.”

“Oh, I’m not really a sugar pers-“ Sam starts to say, but when he sees the woman standing in front of him, he quickly changes his mind. “But it doesn’t hurt occasionally.”

“Good, it’d be a shame if these cookies went to waste,” you say, winking at him.

“Like mother like daughter, damn,” Dean says under his breath.

Sam elbows him. “Knock it off,” he hissed.

“Before you two leave, let me know how the cookies are,” you say, gaze lingering on Sam before you walk out of the living room and back into the kitchen.

“We will,” Sam says, making ‘goo-goo eyes’, as Dean later calls them, at you.

“Dude, go in there and talk to her, I’ll talk to the mom here,” Dean says lowly to Sam, who nods in response and follows you into the kitchen.

The unfamiliar sound of footsteps prompts you to turn around, surprised to see the, in your opinion, cuter agent following you into the kitchen.

“Hello, agent,” you say with a grin.

“Hey, I’m Sam,” he shyly responds.

“Well, Sam, what did you think of the cookies?” You ask eagerly.

“They were really good. I’m really a sweets type of person, but you surprised me,” he compliments, the crinkling of his eyes serving as an effect of the wide smile gracing his face. You think that his smile makes him at least five times cuter, but you decide to keep that to yourself, for now at least.

“Well, thank you. I’m glad to contribute to the conversion of you into a dessert lover,” you joke, earning another beautiful smile from him.

“So, I’m not exactly here to talk about your cookies, however delicious they may be,” he admits, albeit a bit nervously for someone in the FBI, you think.

You raise an eyebrow. “How can I help you, then?”

“Have you heard about the death of Amelia Feezerman?” Your eyes widen, and you nearly choke on the cookie you were eating.

“What? Oh my God, no, I had no idea.”

“Ah, so you wouldn’t happen to know anything about her death?” He questions.

“Um, no? Why would I know anything about that?” You wearily ask.

“We thought that maybe you would know if there was any reason that anyone would want to hurt her.”

“Well, I didn’t really know her all that well. I know that she was in some book club thing with my mom, but that’s about it,” you say, crossing your arms. “Actually, I did hear that she was getting it on with some of her friends’ husbands.”

“Yeah, we know that,” Sam begins, “wait, plural husbands?”

“Yep,” you say, popping the ‘p.’ “She’d get with anything that breathes.”

“I see. So do you think any of these women would want to get revenge on her for that?”

“Oh, definitely. Some of these women are vicious. Rich women are some of the craziest people I’ve ever met, so glad I’m only back for three months,” you snicker.

Sam laughs. “So, you in college, then?” 

“Yeah, I’m in my third year, just home for the summer,” you explained.

“Yeah? You enjoying college?”

“Partially, I mean sometimes I miss my mom, but then I remember that visiting her means having to come back here, and I’m over it immediately,” you sheepishly admit.

“Really? It doesn’t seem too bad here, other than the death,” he says.

“Yeah, well, I guess you haven’t seen how people really are here.”

“How do you mean?”

“I guess I just mean that people here are petty and would do anything to get back at anyone for the smallest stuff,” you say sadly. “Especially some of my mom’s friends.”

You take the look on Sam’s face as an incentive to continue, “her friends are like, money obsessed, and if any other woman gets close to their husbands, somehow they’re mysteriously gone within the month. It’s kind of freaky, to be honest.”

Sam clenches his jaw as Dean walks into the kitchen.

"You ready to go?"

"Uh, yeah, give me a second.”

Dean gives him a look, but nods and leaves the kitchen.

“Give me a call if you can think of anything else that might be relevant to the case,” Sam says, handing a card with his FBI phone number on it to you.

“Will do,” you say, winking at him.

****

“Alright, so, what do you got?” Dean asks.

“Well, apparently this isn’t the first time this has happened here. According to her, multiple women go missing every year, all women that have gotten too close to the husbands of these book club ladies.”

“So we’re looking at a coven full of snotty rich women?” Dean complains, shoulders sagging.

“Guess so.”

“Doesn’t seem so bad for you though, Sammy. Don’t think I didn’t see you laying down the nerdy charm in there,” he jokes.

“I wasn’t flirting,” Sam defends. “I was just getting information and she happened to be pretty and conversational.”

“Sure, Sammy, sure.”

****

Before heading back to the motel room, Sam and Dean decide to stop by a restaurant for dinner.

“Dude, don’t tell me you’re gonna get another salad. You need some real food.”

“Like what? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure what you eat wouldn’t be classified as ‘real food’ either.”

“It’d be closer to real food than the shit you eat. You eat rabbit food, I eat manly food,” Dean argues.

“‘Manly food?’ How is it manly? It’s just greasy and disgusting. You’re gonna get a clogged artery in like 3 months because of it.”

“Whatever, I’m here for a good time, not a long time.”

Sam shakes his head and goes back to looking at the menu.

Sam’s menu browsing is interrupted by a familiar voice. “Can I get you two started with a drink?” 

He looks up to find you looking somehow just as beautiful in a waitress uniform, looking at him with stars in your eyes and a grin gracing your features.

“Well, hello again, agent. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were stalking me,” you playfully say, earning a chuckle from Sam.

“Hey, again. And yeah, I’ll just have a water,” he says.

“Alright, but honestly, I’d get the strawberry lemonade. It’s way better.”

“If you say it’s good, then I’ll give it a try,” he says, smiling coyly.

“Good, so a strawberry lemonade for you,” you start, turning to Dean, “and for you?”

Dean orders his drink, and while they wait for you to return with their drinks, they look at the food on the menus, at least Sam does, until he realizes that Dean is looking at him over his menu with a smirk on his face.

“Dude, what’s up with you and the waitress?”

“Nothing,” Sam says hesitantly. “I mean, she’s pretty, but I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? If a hot girl is hitting on you, take that as a blessing. How long has it been since you’ve gotten laid?” Dean reminds him, and for once Sam thinks he’s right, only a little bit, though. It had been a while since he even flirted with a girl, and it really couldn’t hurt, could it?

However, his train of thought is interrupted by your presence at the table again. You place each drink in front of them, being extra careful with Sam’s. 

“So, are we ready to order?” You ask.

The boys order, and you jot it down on your notepad before walking away from their table. This time, Sam takes the time to watch the way your hips swing from side to side every time you take a step. All he can think is that you have the most graceful walk he has ever seen in his life, which he then thinks is a little weird, but it’s just like him to notice these small, weird, and typically brushed over details of people.

When you back out of the kitchen doors, a plate in each hand, Sam is still staring. He can’t help thinking how beautiful you are, and how cute the smirk you always seem to have on your face is.

You place the plates down on the table. “Let me know if I can get you anything else.” You give Sam a smile that could just as easily be for both him and Dean, but he chooses to believe it was just for him.

Dean smirks. “She’s one hell of a beauty. If you aren’t gonna do anything with that blessing, I will.”

Sam gives him a dramatic look of disgust, but otherwise ignores his comment in favor of eating his sandwich. 

After they finish, Dean heads out to the car, insisting that Sam goes and talks to you. 

He walks up to the counter, money in hand. “Hey.”

You give him a grin. “Hey, there. Enjoy the food?”

“Yeah, it was really good,” he says, sliding you a twenty dollar bill. “That enough?”

You nod. “So, I get off in two hours. If you care, that is.”

He smirks. “What makes you think that?”

“Well, if my charms are still working, I would assume that you care. I’m quite pretty, after all.”

“And humble,” he jokes, earning an, in his definitely not biased opinion, adorable giggle from you. “But, yeah. You’re right, I do care.”

“Good, then meet me at the bar across the street. And don’t be late, otherwise I might find another man willing to fall under my spell.” You lean on the counter and give his hand a pat.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that to happen, so I’ll be there.” He smiles and heads out the door, leaving you leaning your head into your palm, grinning like a teenage girl that just made plans with her first boyfriend.

**** 

When Dean sees Sam walking out the door with a smug smile on his face, he can’t help but don a smile of his own. 

Sam opens the car door, greeted by Dean’s all-knowing grin. “So, you got a date tonight?”

“It’s not a date, we’re just going to the bar after she gets off work.” 

“Well, whatever, we finally got you a lady. Make the most of it, but don’t have too much fun. Still have to get rid of these witches.” Sam finds Dean’s advice very out of character, because typically he would tell him to have the time of his life, but he’s too elated to make much out of it.

“I know, man.”

Dean pats him on the shoulder. “Let’s head to the bar, get you a head start to your night of fun. I’ll look into this witch coven.”

“Dude, since when do you want to do the research?” Sam questions.

“Ever since you started getting chicks instead of me.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You were hitting on a waitress this morning.”

“Can’t do anything with her number now, so it doesn’t count.”

“You could call it.”

“Nah, not in the area. Not worth driving all the way back for a waitress.” Sam raises an eyebrow but decides not to say anything.

**** 

In the bar, Sam and Dean are sitting at a small round table. Sam is drinking a bottle of beer while sitting across from Dean, who for once for once is not trying to get laid, but is actually researching the case at hand.

“Alright, so get this. These moms meet up at your new girlfriend’s house every Tuesday and Thursday and are there until, like, four in the morning.”

“Where are you getting this information?” Sam asks, using his years of enduring Dean’s teasing to skilfully avoid giving into Dean’s provocation.

“Some noise complaints that have been filed over the past few years.”

“So these are for sure our witches, then,” Sam observes.

“Seems like it,” Dean agrees.

Sam finishes his second beer of the night and grabs one of the files in front of Dean. 

“Alright, so there are four witches in this coven,” Sam reads from the file.

“Do you think the chick you’re meeting is also in it?” Dean asks.

Sam rests his chin on his palm, giving it some thought. He knew that some witches were born with their abilities, and since your mother was a witch, it was likely that you were born as one, but that didn’t necessarily mean that you were in on the killing, or that you even knew that you had powers. He hoped that you weren’t, but he thinks that he also wouldn’t mind it too much if you were. He would never admit it to Dean, but he thought that if you were a witch, it might be pretty cool.

“I don’t think so, she seemed really concerned about the killings and disappearances,” he defends.

“You’re just saying that because you’ve got the hots for her.”

Sam makes a face. “Yes, I like her, but I’m serious. I don’t think she is.”

“Alright.” Dean puts his hands up as if to say ‘Sorry, please don’t kill me now.’ 

Sam sees you walk in the door, heading straight for the bar. After taking a few more sips out of his new bottle of beer, he gets up out of his chair. Dean gives him a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ look, which he gracefully ignores in favor of sitting on the stool next to you.

“Hey there, stranger,” you say, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Hey,” he says giddily, causing you to come to the realization that he’s already at least a bit drunk. 

“So you’re a happy drunk,” you observe.

“Whaaat? I’m not drunk,” he argues.

You give him a knowing smile, but indulge him anyway. “Alright, fine. How’s the case going?”

“‘S good, we have suspects now,” he boasts.

“Yeah? I assume that’s all thanks to your hard work here,” you tease.

He gives you a toothy grin. “You know it.”

The bartender comes over and you order some fruity drink that Sam doesn’t catch the name of. When you get it, Sam asks to try it, which you oblige, of course.

“Wow, that’s good. I want one, too.”

“It is, but is that really a good idea? How many beers have you had already?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Two, but I started on my third.”

“Oh. Well, I guess you can have some more of mine, but don’t drink too much. It’s pretty strong, and we wouldn’t want your partner over there to have to deal with you being too drunk,” you tease.

He frowns. “Who cares what he thinks? He’s bossy,” he groans. “And annoying,” he adds for safe measures.

You give him a comforting smile and a pat on his arm, causing you to realize just how muscular it is, along with the rest of his body. You somehow didn’t notice before, but now that you have, it’s all that’s on your mind.

“Sounds like I’ll have to take you off his hands for the night then, huh?” 

He notices that your hand is still on his arm, causing a light pink to dust his cheeks. “Sounds like a plan.”

“So, once you’re done with this case, how long until you leave?”

“It depends. Could be a week, could be the same day we finish the case. For you, though, I’m sure I can arrange staying around for a bit longer,” he suggests.

“That sounds nice,” you admit.

“Good, I’ll work it out then,” he states. “You look beautiful, sorry for not saying it earlier.”

“Well, thank you.” You grin, slightly shocked at how bluntly he says it, but you’re definitely not complaining. Looking over Sam’s outfit, you can’t help notice how good he looks in jeans and a flannel. The way the sleeves of his flannel tighten around his arms doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Now that you’ve seen how he looks in the basic combination, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to think another man looks good in it. “You don’t look half bad yourself. Casual is your look, agent. Not to mention that shirt is doing wonders for your arms,” you compliment, causing a dark blush to appear on his face for the second time tonight.

“Thanks,” he mumbles in embarrassment, clearly not expecting you to have flirted back, and if he did, he definitely didn’t expect you to flirt so blatantly. He’s flustered, and so, he decides to shift the conversation topic off of himself. “So, where do you go to college?”

“Last year I transferred to Stanford, but I went to an in-state college that was far enough away from here before.”

Sam raises his eyebrows, giving you a small smile. “I went to Stanford, too.”

“Really?” You ask.

“Yeah, I was studying to be a lawyer. Until my brother came to my apartment and told me he needed my help looking for our dad, at least” he admits.

“You didn’t finish school?”

“No, but it turned out to be a good thing,” he says, his voice sounding like he was trying to convince not only you, but himself as well. You raise an eyebrow, but in hopes of not upsetting the cute puppy-eyed boy you’d met only hours earlier, ultimately decide against saying anything to contradict his statement. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to notice your hesitance to accept his statement.

“I’m glad. Although, I’m sure you could still finish school if you ever wanted to. It wouldn’t hurt to have a back-up plan,” you suggest, laughing internally at the fact that being a Stanford educated lawyer would be his ‘back-up plan.’

“I guess. But I don’t think I could let Dean work all by himself.” The crestfallen expression he has on his face after imagining leaving Dean, paired with his puppy dog eyes is almost too much for you to handle. 

You put your hand on his arm, rubbing your thumb across the flannel he was wearing. “You’re a good partner, Sam. He’s lucky to have you.”

A perplexed look flashes across his face until he realizes that you meant they were FBI partners, and he quickly recovers by giving you a small smile. You find yourself unable to think about anything but his gorgeous eyes, sweet smile, and silky hair, causing you to get that warm fuzzy feeling that all your friends describe when talking about their boyfriends, and you feel yourself returning a smile without even trying. It felt almost like a reflex, and you realized that you were developing a crush on the tall, sweet, doe-eyed man. This thought is even further confirmed after Sam puts his large hand over yours, curling his fingers around your significantly smaller ones, causing your heart-rate to pick up.

You don’t even notice the blush appear on your face until you hear Sam’s teasing voice. “Now who’s the one blushing?”

“It’s just the lighting, don’t get all cocky,” you try to defend, to no avail, though, since Sam’s mischievous grin does not falter after hearing your defense.

“If you say so,” Sam says, doing his best not to let a doubtful expression cross his face.

“I do,” you firmly state. A small lull of silence overcomes the conversation, and you search through your brain to search for a new topic to discuss. “You said you have a brother? What’s his name?”

“Uh, about that. Dean is my brother.” Your eyebrows lift slightly.

“No way. You guys are brothers and work together? That’s pretty cool,” you observe.

“Yeah, sometimes. Other times he’s a real dick, though.”

“I bet. But he seems pretty nice for the most part.”

“He’s a good guy, he just thinks he has to protect everyone, especially me. He doesn’t realize I can do things on my own. I mean I was in college without him and I did just fine.”

You nod sympathetically, understanding how complex family relationships can be. From there, the conversation flowed smoothly and you felt like you could tell Sam anything without any judgment, leading you to ask, “Would you, uh, want to come over to my house for the night? My mom isn’t going to be home tonight.” As you say it, you feel like you’re in high school all over again, and you start to regret the words as soon as your lips stop moving.

Sam’s eyes widen and he stays quiet, further fueling your regret. For those brief few seconds, your mind races and you worry if you came off too strong or if he simply isn’t interested in you past a drunk conversation and flirting. Luckily, he realizes the look on your face and saves you from any further anxiety. 

“Sure, that sounds good.” Once again, the infamous smile graces his features, cheeks puffing up causing his eyes to crinkle and because not only is his face beautiful, of course his eyes have to be, too. You swear, even if no one else in the whole world agrees, his eyes are so beautiful in that moment that they glimmer.

You beam at him and slip off your stool, grabbing his hand and leading him off to the door. He looks back at Dean to find him already smirking at him. Dean gives him a wink, and for what is probably the millionth time in his life, Sam completely ignores him, focusing on the way you’re eagerly dragging him out of the place and to your car.

****

The next morning, Sam wakes up in a room that is far too nice to be the hotel that he and Dean were staying at, even though they always got the best room. He quickly remembers the events of last night and smiles. Although, his smile fades when he looks next to him to find you nowhere in sight. He rubs his eyes, looking around the room at the posters and decorations that let him peer into a tiny part of your life without worrying if he was overstepping any boundaries. 

He gets out from under the blanket and slips off the side of the bed, walking over to your desk that holds a curious collection of trinkets and a book full of pictures. He’s in the middle of flipping through the book when he hears the creaking of a door opening, and his reflexes have him whipping his head to see where the noise came from. You let out a little giggle when you find his face looking like a little kid that just got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. He tilts his head as if asking what you were laughing at, but you just shrug, a cheeky grin still on your face.

“Whatcha doin’ there, Sam?” 

For a moment, Sam is at a loss of words. “Uh, I was just….” He trails off.

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad. Just wondering what you’re looking at.” Your words clearly ease his mind, as he picks up the open photobook and points at the picture he was looking at. You smile as you look at a highschool version of you with some of your friends at a festival. 

“It’s a cute picture. You dyed your hair, though. I almost didn’t realize you were in it at first.”

“Yeah, I figured since I was going to college I should switch it up a bit.”

You sit on the edge of the bed, watching as Sam continues to flip through the pages. You carefully watch his expression change as his eyes move around the pages looking at different moments of your life. He was glad to get even more of a glance into who you were. 

Eventually, he reaches the end of the book and closes it, setting it back down on its rightful place on your desk. He joins you on the bed, sitting an awkward distance away from you, causing you to let out a small chuckle.

“What?” He questions, his puppy-dog eyes in full effect again.

“You can come closer, y’know. I don’t bite,” you tease. He blushes, as even more memories of last night flood into his brain. You definitely bit, but apparently only during certain hours of the day.

He scoots closer to you until your shoulders are comfortably pressed together. You take advantage of the proximity and lean your head on his shoulder.

“So, any plans for today?” You ask him.

“Not really. Just stuff for the case. I should probably check my phone.” You nod, and Sam thinks that the divine beauty of the slight raise at the corners of your mouth is unrivaled by any other sight Sam has ever seen, and he has seen almost too much in his short life.

He reaches over to the table next to your bed, trying his best not to move away from you and disturb your peaceful state of simple existence. He turns on his phone, seeing a few texts from Dean with more details on the case. He turns his phone off and decides that it wouldn’t hurt to stay here with you for another hour. You’re surprised by the weight of his head resting on top of yours, but who are you to complain? 

****

Unfortunately, an hour can go by very fast when you’re, as they say, having fun. Watching Sam walk out of your house pulled on a part of your heart that you wish it hadn’t, knowing that Sam would soon be leaving your not so small town and you would more than likely never see him again. You don’t think you would be able to handle not seeing him again, even though the two of you have known each other for less than a mere day. With these thoughts swirling around in your brain, all you can do is give him a small wave when he turns around to look at you one last time before getting into his brother’s ‘67 Impala.

****

“Dude, tell me about your night. Was it the craziest sex you’ve ever had? Is she freaky? Waitresses always are, man.” Dean’s rambles fill Sam’s ears as soon as he closes the door to the old, black car.

“Really? You couldn’t even wait five seconds before you start with this?” Sam complains.

“You haven’t gotten laid in centuries, Sammy, excuse me if I want to know if my little brother had a good time.”

“Shut up.” 

As usual, Dean completely ignores Sam’s protests and continues asking graphic questions about the ‘hot witch waitress’ until they arrive at the house of one of the witches in the coven.

****

Dean knocks on the door of the white two-story house, and within seconds is met with the face of a standard looking middle-aged woman.

“Hello, ma’am, FBI,” Dean says, flashing his fake badge, actions in sync with that of his younger brother.

The woman’s eyes widen slightly, but she schools her face back into neutrality quite quickly. “Come on in.” She motions for them to step into the house.

Dean sits down on the large couch in the living room, leaving Sam to remain standing next to it. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Sam asks.

“Of course, go right ahead. Up the stairs and two doors to the right.”

Sam gives her a grateful smile before he walks out of the living room and heads up the stairs. When he began his search, he had expected to find one hex bag, or maybe even zero, but what he hadn’t expected was three. He raised an eyebrow, assuming that all the others in the coven would have at least coordinated this better, but here he was, looking at three different hex bags.

He quickly grabs them before flushing the toilet to avoid suspicion or potential disgust on the woman’s part if she realized that he hadn’t flushed the toilet. 

Heading back down the stairs, he gives Dean a small nod to indicate his findings and to signal Dean to wrap up his investigation.

“You boys have a good day, good luck with your investigation,” the woman says, closing the door behind them as they walk down the stairs connected to the front porch.

“Dude, there were three hex bags in her bathroom,” Sam says, pulling the bags out of his pocket.

“I thought they only needed one? What’s the point of having more?” Dean inquired.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s more powerful or something.”

Dean made a sound of acknowledgement but said nothing in return. Sam took it as a cue to continue talking.

“So, I was thinking we just wait until a night that they meet up and then ambush.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dean agreed.

****

Back at the hotel room, Sam is researching more for the case, just to be safe, while Dean is out grabbing something for them to eat. Sam assumes that he’s gone back to the restaurant you work at so he can grab another glance at you.

Sam is deep into a passage on witchly powers when his phone rings, he assumes it’s Dean, but the small screen shows an unknown number. His eyebrows raise, but he answers the phone nonetheless. 

“Hello? Sam?” A familiar, but shaky voice asks from the phone.

He says your name as if it were a question, to which you quickly say, “Yes, um, sorry to be calling this late but I think there’s someone in my house.”

Sam’s jaw clenches, his whole face tensing up before quickly relaxing again as he prepares to defend the woman that he now found lingering in every crevice of his mind.

“I’ll be there in 5 minutes. Just lock your door and stay in your room, alright?” 

“Okay. Please stay on the phone with me, I’m really scared,” you admit.

“Yeah, yeah, you got it,” he says, rushing out the door of the hotel room before realizing that Dean was still out getting food. “Shit,” he breathed. However, now he could finally reap the benefits of his daily morning runs.

“What?” 

“Nothing, just a slight change of plans. Just stay calm.” His voice was slightly strained and now sounded more like a moan than actual words, and if you weren’t so damn scared you might have found it sexy.

****

About seven minutes and lots of heavy breaths from Sam’s end of the phone later, Sam was at the front door of your house, gun full of witch-killing bullets ready in one hand, and his small phone in the other. 

“I’m here, you’ll be good if I get off the phone?” He asks, fully ready to somehow manage to find a way to stay on the phone while fighting if you need him to.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Do what you need to do, please,” you say, but he hears the fear in your voice.

“I’ll be done and up there as soon as possible, alright? Don’t worry.”

He hears a small sound of acknowledgement from the other end of the phone before he finally ends the call and goes into the house. He heads straight for the door to the basement that, luckily, he had found when he made his journey to the bathroom the first time he was over at your house. He opens the door and grabs a second gun out of his pocket for safe measures, especially since Dean was nowhere to be found despite Sam’s multiple texts.

He slowly creeps down the stairs, doing his best not to let his weight cause the stairs to creek. Fortunately, he makes it down soundlessly, but is now stuck with the task of creeping through the abnormally large basement without getting cornered by witches.

It takes a few minutes before he finally hears the loud chanting start back up again, and while he knows that he’s probably free to walk as loudly as he wants to, he still keeps up the stealth.

The chanting slowly gets louder, and Sam steadies his arms to shoot both guns. As soon as he sees two figures in the door frame, he pulls the trigger on both, not wanting to risk the chances of them performing some spell on him before he gets a chance to get them first.

Unfortunately, he’d forgotten that there was still a third member of the coven, and as soon as he turns around, he’s met with the face of your mother, as well as a book harshly hitting his head and rendering him unconscious. 

The next thing he knows, he’s tied up in the same room that he shot the two witches.

“You’re not FBI, you’re hunters,” your mother says, disgust obvious in her voice.

“Like you’re any better. You kill innocent people,” Sam grunts, starting to discreetly rub the rope he was tied up with against the chair to cut it.

“Innocent? Oh, please, no one in this world is innocent, especially not you, and even more so since you’ve involved yourself with my daughter,” she spat.

Sam grimaces. “Oh, yes, I know all about that.” She smirks.

Sam is about to speak, but is interrupted by your voice calling out for him. As your voice grows closer and closer, Sam realizes his progress on the rope is not as fast as he hoped, and if he didn’t hurry up, you’d be in the room before he was free. 

However, to his dismay, you enter the room before he can free his arms, and all that he can think about is how awful it would be to watch you die, especially by the hands of your own mother. The nauseating thought is interrupted by a loud smashing sound that Sam immediately recognizes as a bat to the head. His head shoots up and he sees you, eyebrows furrowed with your eyes glazes over as you realize what you’ve done. 

He finally manages to get the rope holding his hands behind his back cut as you sink down onto your knees and start sobbing. His first reaction is to run over and hold you, asking if you’re okay, but he isn’t sure if that’s what you would want, and there’s no way in hell that he would want to upset you even more.

He settles for walking over to you and kneeling down with one hand on your back rubbing what he hopes are soothing circles on it.

“It’s gonna be okay, I promise,” he comforts. “It’ll get better. Just know you had to do this, alright?”

“I know, Sam, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I didn’t even think about it, I just saw you tied up, and that was my first reaction. Am I insane?”

“Hey, hey, don’t say that. It’s fine, you’re fine.”

Finally, you turn towards him and collapse into his arms, and though he’s surprised, he catches you and holds you closely and firmly to his chest. The hand that was once on your back is now on your head, comfortingly playing with your hair, and the other is wrapped around your waist as you sob into his shoulder.

****

Hours later, you’ve finally calmed down, and you and Sam are in your living room sitting on your couch, along with Dean, the other FBI agent that had arrived while you were still sobbing, much to your later embarrassment. However, Sam had reassured you that it wasn’t embarrassing, and Dean definitely wouldn’t find it so.

After his reassurance, you could find no trace of embarrassment still lingering in your mind. It was surprising that someone you’d only met a few days ago was able to not only understand you like that, but also manage to diminish your insecurities so easily. You found yourself thinking about how much you and Sam seem to have in common and how easy it is to talk to him. 

You lean your head on his shoulder, and out of the corner of your eye you see a small smile on his face. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you closer to him.

“Oh, get a room,” Dean grumbles in annoyance, but Sam knows that he’s just faking it. He knows Dean too well to not realize that he really is happy for him.

****

When you wake up the next day you feel a warm presence next to you in your bed. You quickly recognize the presence as Sam, leading you to snuggle closer, resting your head on his chest.

“Good morning,” Sam says groggily, his voice breaking you out of the peaceful trance you were in.

“Good morning,” you reply.

Sam gives your arm a small squeeze before sitting up. You mirror his actions, ready to start a conversation, but are interrupted by the loud sound of his phone.

He gives you an apologetic look and grabs his phone to presumably read a text.

“It’s Dean. He has a lead on the case,” he states, to your annoyance.

“That’s good, I think. Would it be wrong for me to ask if I could come with?”

Sam’s eyebrows raise at your unexpected request. He stays quiet for a few seconds before replying, “I won’t say no, but I also don’t want you to get hurt. So, I have to be honest with you.”

You tilt your head, encouraging him to continue.

“My brother and I aren’t FBI, we’re hunters.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What?” 

Sam swallows as if to prepare for the words about to leave his mouth.

“Monsters are real. Vampires, ghosts, all of it. My brother and I hunt them.” As the words are leaving his mouth, Sam is suddenly hit with a wave of regret. What if you don’t believe him? What if you think he’s crazy and tell him to leave?

You, on the other hand, were thinking about how happy you were that Sam was comfortable enough with you to tell you about his real life. In the future, Sam would probably laugh about how vast the difference of what was going on in each of your minds, but now, he was taking your silence as negative.

When you saw the worry on Sam’s face, you immediately realized that you’d been sitting in complete silence since he’d admitted the truth about him and his brother. 

“Really?” The one simple word brought Sam joy and relief like no other moment in his life.

“You actually believe me?” He asks in disbelief.

“Yeah, I mean what reason do I have not to? It does sound kind of insane, but I also bashed my mom’s head in with a bat yesterday, so…” You trail off, realizing that once again you’d been using humor as a coping mechanism instead of dealing with your problems.

Sam clears his throat, now feeling very awkward. “Right… About that, are you sure you want to come with? You’ve already been through a lot.”

“It would probably help to get my mind off of it, even if more traumatizing shit ends up happening, too.”

He pursed his lips, deep in thought. “Yeah, alright. If that’s what you want, I won’t stop you.”

You smile. “Yeah, it is.”

**** 

Half an hour later, you’re sitting in the back seat of the infamous black Impala with some old rock song that Dean picked playing.

“Sam, are you sure about bringing her?” Dean asks lowly, as if you couldn’t hear him from your spot right behind him. 

“Yes, Dean. It’s not like we’re leaving her to fend for her own while we go together,” he says exasperatedly.

“If you say so.”

You clear your throat, prompting Sam to turn around and give you an apologetic smile. You return the smile, but the annoyance you feel towards Dean does not dissipate. If anything, you feel it even more so after Sam apologized instead of him.

You decide to ignore it and stay quiet for the rest of the drive.

A few minutes and one rock song later, the Impala pulls into a driveway that you recognize as one of your mom’s friend’s house. You furrow your eyebrows.

“Why are we here?”

Dean clicks his tongue. “You didn’t tell her?”

“Well, Dean, I’m sorry that I didn’t want to overwhelm her,” he sasses.

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think? You brought her on a damn hunt.”

The air in the car suddenly felt awkward and you felt as though you shouldn’t be listening to their conversation. 

“I’m just gonna get out and let you two finish your discussion,” you said quickly before opening the door and walking over to the porch of the house.

As you walked up the stairs, the front door opened, and the face of your old best friend from high school appeared in the doorway. 

She called your name, a big smile adorning her face.

“Lily, hey!” You said, feigning excitement to see the girl after three years.

“It’s been so long! Come inside. My mom is downstairs,” she exclaims, ushering you into the house and nearly slamming the door shut once you’ve entered her house. As soon as you enter the house, a chill runs down your spine and you can’t help but feel nervous about what’s about to happen.

****

You’d been in the house for a few minutes before Sam and Dean had even realized you hadn’t been sitting on the porch the whole time they’d been arguing, and when Sam looked over to see what you were doing, a wave of panic rushed through his whole body.

“Dean, she’s gone.”

“What the hell? See, this is why we shouldn’t have even brought her with us.”

“Dude, whatever, it doesn’t matter, we gotta go find her right now.”

Sam quickly opened the passenger door and rushed out of the car and through the front door.

He opens the door, quickly checking the living room. Nothing. He checks the kitchen and the dining room. Nothing and nothing. He checks all the rooms on the first floor and the second floor, then goes back to the first floor to check again, when he hears Dean calling out to him.

“Sam? Come here, I found a door to a basement or somethin’,” he calls out.

Sam follows the sound of his brother’s gruff voice and finds a door he doesn’t know how he missed. He’s usually thorough about searching, but he finds himself extremely on-edge this time. He thinks it might somehow, maybe, have something to do with his not-so-subtle crush on you, and maybe the thought that losing you would be one of the worst things that has happened to him even though he’s barely known you for five days.

He quickly pushes the thought to the back of his mind, at least for now, in favor of pushing ahead of Dean and heading down the stairs into the basement.

His mind is now absent of any “lovey-dovey” thoughts of you, but chock full of thoughts about how you could be dead right now. He never should have let you get out of the car and go inside without him. If you were dead, it would be all his fault, and he would never be able to escape the guilt of having another death on his conscience. 

However, with all of these thoughts, the thought that you could actually hold your own against the witches had somehow never crossed his mind. It definitely should have, though, because when he finally reaches you, you’re standing over two feminine figures that are lying still on the ground. 

He sees your chest rising and falling as the iron tight grip you have on the knife in your hand begins to falter. The knife clatters onto the floor as you look over to see Sam.

“Sam,” you pant, and he immediately rushes over to you and takes your tired figure into his arms. He immediately feels blood that he isn’t sure of the origins beginning to soak into his jacket, but he can’t bring himself to care about that right now. The only thing he cares about is your safety, and preserving that safety for as long as he possibly can from here on out.

“Are you okay?” He whispers next to your ear.

“No, Sam, I killed my mom and then my best friend from high school and her mom in the span of not even twenty-four hours. I feel horrible.”

“You had to, okay? They were killing people. Maybe that doesn’t help you feel better right now, but eventually it will. Don’t beat yourself up over it, or you’ll end up hating yourself for the rest of your life. This is how it is to be a hunter, and I understand if after now you never want to do it again,” he rambles, trying to somehow make you feel better, which he knows is nearly impossible right now, but he can’t stop himself from trying. To him, it almost feels like someone is taking control of his body and making him do everything in his power to help you.

He realizes very quickly, though, that it’s not a person taking control of his body, but an emotion: love. The realization is scary for him, to say the least, especially because of his track record with girlfriends dying, but he thinks that he would be okay with overcoming this fear if it means you would be his.

A few seconds later, Dean walks into the room and finds himself met with the sight of your shorter figure being held, in his opinion, disgustingly lovingly by his brother. He’s happy that his brother has found someone that seems like a good person from what he can tell.

Dean whistles, eyebrows raising in approval at the sight of the two witches’ bodies behind your back. “Damn, and you didn’t even need my help. You’re getting better, Sammy.”

Sam shakes his head. “I didn’t do this. She did,” he replies, turning around and giving Dean a smug look. Dean gives him a look of annoyance at being proven wrong when it comes to your ability to fight, but ultimately decides to give it a rest, for today at least. He could tell you were shaken up, and he felt that he could sympathize, only a bit, though.

When he realizes that you had taken out the two witches on your own, he couldn’t help but feel impressed, and he confidently feels that you and Sam are right for each other. It’s funny that it isn’t your loving personality or quirky teasing that tells him that you’re right for Sam, but instead the fact that you can hold your own in a battle. That really is a more valuable asset in their lives than any regular person, so Dean is glad that his brother has been lucky enough to find someone like that.

****

Later that day, you’re all standing outside your house that now feels very empty without your mother. You never realized how much of a presence she really had until now, and admittedly, it makes you sad to think about, no matter how much you disliked her.

Unfortunately, it’s about to get a whole lot emptier with Sam and Dean ready to head out to their next case. However, Dean’s voice shakes you out of your thoughts, and his words shock you even more.

“Kid, how would you feel about joining us for a few more hunts, see how you feel? Who knows, maybe you’ll become a permanent member of our group here.” 

Sam gives him a look of pure astonishment, but all he receives in return is a smug look and a little shrug.

“Well, I don’t know. I don’t want to be a burden to you guys with all the teaching me how to hunt and all that.”

“I don’t think we’d have to do too much teaching. You’re a natural,” Sam compliments, causing a deep blush to appear on your cheeks.

“Alright, Sammy. We’re gonna have to work on all that flirting,” Dean teases. “I’ll admit, I do agree, though. That was impressive. I probably couldn’t have done that on my first hunt,” he admits.

His unexpected words of praise make you smile, and your annoyance from earlier fades away. Dean could be a pain in the ass from what you’ve learned, but he could also be nice. You figured he was usually a pain in the ass, though, but you figured that you would be able to learn how to deal with it, or at least ignore it like Sam seems to be able to do.

“Alright. To be honest, it was kind of exhilarating, but also scary. I think it could be something I could learn to love, though.”

Sam gives you a warm smile, and gestures for you to go over there to give him a hug, which you excitedly accept, falling into his larger frame as his long arms wrap around you.

Dean grumbles. “Really? Again?”

All you and Sam do in response is laugh, much to Dean’s annoyance.

a/n: would yall be interested in this being a series or something ?? idk i feel like that would be fun to do

tags: @kozumesphone

[missvelvetsstuff]

The Situation Room

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After a mission almost gone wrong, Tony brings back Bucky's former assistant, who is also Bucky's ex. Can they work together without hurting each other? Will the whole truth about their break up finally come out?

Avengers AU where Thanos never happened.

Chapter 1

Warnings: swearing, angst

After a rough nites sleep, Y/N woke at 6am and took a shower before heading to the kitchen for coffee and breakfast. There was a team meeting at 8am and she knew she needed caffeine to get through it.

She was sitting at the table with her coffee and a bagel when Steve and Sam came in followed by Bucky. She greeted them with a quiet good morning which had Sam pulling her out of her seat for a hug, winking at Bucky who rolled his eyes. Sam's friendship with Y/N had always irritated him and he just knew Sam was going to do everything he could to exacerbate the tension.

"Radar! How you been, baby girl? I'm surprised to see you back here, tired of Madripoor?" Sam laughed as he squeezed her.

Y/N shrugged "Are we really sticking with this Radar thing? I mean I love MASH but just because you're so predictable, Sammy, doesn't mean I'm psychic." She teased "There's too much going in Madripoor to get bored, I'm just doing an old friend a favor but don't plan to be here too long."

"Thank God for small favors." Bucky spat

She felt her stomach drop at his tone but just smirked at Bucky "Just keep your shit together so I can train you a new assistant and get the fuck outta here."

Sam laughed "I have missed you!"

Steve was more reserved, worried about how Bucky was going to deal with this new dynamic "Nice to see you again, Y/N" he gave her a small smile and nod.

Radar grinned "Same to you, Rogers."

Wanda and Nat wandered in chatting with Bruce trailing behind them. Nat stopped dead and put her arm out to stop Wanda "Is that who I think it is? Y/N? You're back?" She tried to temper the excitement over seeing her friend here in the compound after 2 years while picking up on the anger radiating from Bucky. She went to hug her friend "I didn't think I'd ever see you here again. Not that I minded our girl time in Madripoor."

Radar smiled, hugging her and Wanda at the same time "It's good to see you ladies. It's been 6 months since our last get together we'll have to tear up Manhattan when we can schedule it."

She smiled at Bruce and he hugged her "Glad you're back Radar, we've missed you."

A voice came from the hall "I hope you aren't planning a girls nite without me. I missed the last trip." Maria Hill walked into the kitchen and went to give Radar a hug.

Steve and Bucky were staring at the women, slack jawed until Steve spoke up "So you girls have been getting together regularly? How is this the first I'm hearing of this?"

Radar chuckled "Well geez Cap, it's girl time and you aren't invited so why would anyone tell you? Besides there's all kinds of drinking and swearing and general mischief making. Really not your type of party."

Bucky scoffed, glaring at Radar "So Nat, you and Wanda have been getting together with her, even after she- after what she did?" he shook his head "some friends you are." and stomped down the hall.

Radar shook her head and whispered under her breath "Yeah, what I did to him. Pffft."

Nat rubbed her back "You going to be ok working with him again?"

Radar smiled sadly "Yeah, as soon as I get his shit in order, I'll work to find and train my replacement. Then it's back to exciting Madripoor and the Power Brokers trail."

Nat hummed as she considered whether she should say what she was thinking and decided to push ahead "You could try to talk to him, tell him the truth about what happened."

Radar chuckled humorlessly "Right, he's obviously totally open to talking to me, thats why he says something nasty every time we're in the same room. He's no more interested in my side of the story than he was the day it happened. Sorry, Nat, sometimes you can't go home."

Steve poured himself a cup of coffee, wondering what they were talking about before switching to captain mode. "Meeting starts in 30, make sure you're all there on time."

Radar smiled "Don't worry Cap, we're on our way."

The ladies chatted for a few more minutes before heading to the conference room. They all sat together with Radar between Nat and Wanda while Bruce sat next to Nat and Vision walked in with Tony then sat next to Wanda.

Clint was behind them and smiled when he saw her "Radar! Welcome home." He patted her on the shoulder.

Radar looked at her friends on either side of her and smiled sadly at their happiness. She was thrilled they both found good partners but seeing them like that made her so lonely. She'd had no romantic interest since she left the compound. It felt like that part of her heart was broken beyond repair. There had been a couple of flings, a girl has needs, but nothing more than one night.

She had truly believed that Bucky was it and after everything still loved him, even if they couldn't be together.

Sam, Wanda and Nat had kept her up on the team gossip and while learning of Bucky's many women felt like a shot to the chest, she knew that was him acting out and would still do whatever she could to help him. He had worked so hard to make up for what Hydra made him do and his reputation had been trending upward but this last mission and the incident with the photographer made the public and the team's benefactors question him being there.

Radar took a deep breath to calm her mind, reminding herself that she would get him back on the right track, then go back to the wilds of Madripoor and probably never see him again. The thought of that hurt but she shook it off, that's how it had to be.

She jumped when she heard her name.

"Radar! I can't believe it's really you, never thought you'd come back." Nick Fury shouted with a grin on his face.

She smiled "Good to see you too, Nick. Enjoy me while you can because I'm just here to clean up a mess and train the next guy."

Nick chuckled "We'll just have to see if we can find a way to make you move back home permanently."

Radar smile at him sadly, why did everyone but him have to bring up keeping her here. "I don't think that's a good idea but I'm flattered you want me around."

Bucky and Steve walked into the room and Bucky scoffed "If she stays I'm fucking leaving. I'd rather give up my pardon and live the rest of my life on the Raft than anywhere near her."

Radar sighed "Yes Barnes, we get it. You hate me and wish I were dead. If you insist on reminding me every time we're in the same room together, I'll be convinced that you're still obsessed with me." she winked at him.

Bucky was sure steam must be coming out of his ears, she had a lot of nerve fucking with him like that "If you-"

Fury interrupted "Flirt on your own time, Barnes. This isn't speed dating, we have business to take care of."

Bucky sputtered and went to say something but Tony spoke up and interrupted him, not that he had any coherent thoughts to voice so he sat back, glaring at Y/N.

"Now that we're all here. The first order of business is notifying all of you that Radar has returned to help Barnes get organized and train her replacement. Once that's done, we need some excuse to convince her to stay."

Bucky groaned "please, god, no."

Radar shook her head "Don't get yourself in a tizzy Barnes. I told you, that's not happening." She looked at Tony "I told you that I'm leaving once I've trained a competent replacement. I can't stay here permanently and you know that. You all need to let that go cuz it's not happening."

Bucky sighed, relieved that she wasn't planning to stay. He didn't know if he could deal with seeing her all the time so he promised himself he would do everything in his power to speed things along. But somewhere, deep in his subconscious he dreaded the thought of her leaving again. And maybe never seeing her again. He still loved her desperately, the countless women he had gone through in the last 2 years gave him no peace, none of them felt or smelled or sounded like her and he was terrified that he would give in and beg her to take him back if she stayed too long. He was also terrified that he wouldn't and she would get away from him, again.

Bucky badly wanted to touch her, kiss and hold her, make love to her for hours like he used to. He could smell her vanilla body spray, the citrus shampoo & conditioner and the musk that was distinctly her. He could feel his body responding to being in close quarters with her again and was grateful for the table to hide his, ahem reactions.

Thankfully, Nick Fury spoke up "On to business. There's a facility in Belarus that was believed to be abandoned but is showing signs of activity. I need 2 people for recon. Any volunteers?"

Bucky raised his hand "I'm in if I can get out of here while....." he trailed off.

Radar kept her face emotionless. She was starting to think this was a mistake. As if the glares and cold demeanor weren't enough he had to make a crack every chance he had.

Just being near him was torture. She felt an empty ache in her chest and her eyes filled with tears but she refused to let them fall. She swallowed a sob down and whispered in a sing song voice "Obseeesed"

Bucky growled and she felt her panties dampen. His nostrils flared and he sat back in his seat, a death grip on the arms, before he took her on the conference table in front of the whole team.

Sam volunteered to go with him and Bucky groaned, he was almost as difficult to be around as Y/N.

Fury nodded and handed packets to both men "There we go, that wasn't so difficult. Since Sam's assistant isn't here, Radar will prep everything you need and be in the quinjet and in your ears when you go in. I suggest the three of you get some sleep, wheels up at 9 tonight"

Bucky shook his head "What do you mean she'll be in the jet? Starks tech is good enough that she can do it from here. Goddammit I want to be wherever she isn't so send someone else."

Fury glared at him "For a man who's over 100 years old you are acting like a fucking child, Barnes. Grow the fuck up and act like the professional you are supposed to be."

Nick's face turned up into a devious grin "You do realize that if you don't go, she doesn't either right? She's your assistant, your angel. If you had hired assistants without prioritizing their fuckability, you wouldn't be here. It's already decided. Go hit your rack while you can."

Sam chuckled as he left the room "You just can't win Terminator. Maybe the universe wants you crazy kids together."

Bucky sighed, no point in complaining any more. A mission with the two people he would least like to be around. Hopefully the intel was right and it would be a quick in and out. He went to his room to stretch out, knowing that sleep was unlikely.

Steve caught up with him in the hall "I'm just giving you some information and what you do with it is up to you." He lowered his voice "I heard Nat trying to convince Y/N to talk to you, she said something about telling you the truth about what happened that day. Maybe you should hear her out, listen to her side."

Bucky shook his head "What side? There's no side that makes what she did ok so there's not much point. I just want to get through this so she goes on her way."

Steve shook his head "Fine punk, it's your life."

Radar went to the armory to put Sam and Bucky's gear and weapons together and loaded up the quinjet before heading to her room for a couple of hours of sleep, if she could manage that much. She prayed to whatever gods were out there that this mission would be easy and fast.

Chapter 2

[according2thelore]

Do you have any spn omegaverse fic recs?

oh boy, do i!

this is a pretty exhaustive list of omegaverse, with varied designations and (less varied) ratings. this is in no particular order (and not a list of every fic i've ever read and enjoyed), either, just some fics i've collected over the years.

please note that some of these are underage (as they are teenchester fics and the like), and some deal with sensitive topics so please be diligent about checking the notes/tags!

samdean:

alpha4alpha Series by HandsAcrossTheSea & trashhearts67

[RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & A!Sam] The most forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, and Dean wants a taste of Sam. Two alphas shouldn't want each other. But when has Dean ever had any use for what should be?

The Bite of Knowledge by theproblematique [rec note: THEE omegaverse fic imo]

[RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Dean & A!Sam] Omegas can tell when alphas are attracted to them. It's a survival mechanism. After years of buildup, Dean finally realizes that Sam is attracted to him. It's a shitshow.

Only Real When I'm With You by WhiskyBoys

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Dean & A!Sam At sixteen Dean was exceptionally pretty. Even for an omega. Fair hair, pale skin, big green eyes and wholesome freckles. And he was a virgin. The training officers, always smirking, said that was a good thing. Told him that was why his pathetic omega life was valuable enough to pay off all his father’s debts.

Gunpowder & Honeysuckle by hereforsammy [private}

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, A!Dean & O!Sam One would think it would be enough; All of those bits and pieces that made up the large jigsaw puzzle of their lives, smashed in the back of an old black car tearing down highways in backwater towns, and nights spent in stale motel rooms with cigarette holes burned into every surface, to let Dean know the glaringly obvious thing he had been both running to, and avoiding, was staring him in the face all along. Heated neon in the pitch black sky over shabby dives of no name towns, that painted themselves on the backs of your eyelids even when you blinked. His baby boy smelled sweet.

Three Weeks Too Late (the 'Five Weeks' remix) by rei_c

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Dean swallows at the thought of that: Sam's home, his soon-to-be omega's scent everywhere, on everything. Sam wants to take Dean back to his den. "Okay," he says. "Your place. But not -- it has to be now, Sam. I can't wait much longer." "Yeah," Sam says. "Yeah, it's been five weeks since your birthday." (aka, the one where Dean finally claims his omega.)

The Hottest Days by WevyrDove [rec note: a classic; w this and the bite of knowledge, i think one of my first wincest fics, lol]

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, A!Dean & O!Sam John is away on a hunting trip when Sam experiences his first heat cycle. Dean panics and makes Sam lock himself up in his room in a desperate attempt to keep temptation at bay.

5th Period by alwaysthrowsscissors [rec note: also a fandom classic]

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, A!Dean & O!Sam Without hesitation, Dean dropped to his knees, burying his face in the wet seat of Sam’s jeans, teasing out the cutest little whimper. “Am I- God, am I...” He trembled, voice soft. “Yeah,” Dean groaned, muffled, nuzzling against the rough fabric. His fucking greatest dream came true. Precious, beautiful Sammy; an omega. Dean always knew that whatever Sam presents as doesn't matter; he's going to fuck Sam hard and claim him either way. But, Dean never imagined that all eyes at school would be on his little brother, waiting to see what he will become and who will get to claim him as their mate. Sam goes into his first heat in the middle of class.

Sam's Inner Omega by TammyRenH

RATING: Unrated, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Another spn_kink meme fill (just trying to un-rust my writing skills - such as they are) For the prompt: There are two sides to every Omega; the side that wants to be cuddled and pampered. And the side that wants to be pinned down and fucked roughly like a bitch in heat. Up to you who tops and who bottoms. I’m good with any kinks as long as all aspects of the fic are consensual. Please and thank you!

Taste Every Fruit by thatsakitkat [rec note: aka the lactation fic, a fandom classic fr]

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Dean&A!Sam There's no real words to describe how feeding Sam feels. Dean thinks it might be better than orgasms, but it's a whole different kind of pleasure, one that makes him feel sleepy and proud of himself for being able to take care of his brother this way. Everything feels right in the world, all Dean's problems taken away in the gentle pulls of Sam's mouth.

A Blind Fool's Luck by hellhoundsprey

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean&O!Sam Prompt: sam is an omega. or, he was. before puberty really hits, john puts him on suppressants/has him surgically altered so he doesn’t attract aggressive alphas/is put in less danger/makes their lifestyle easier. sam’s too young to really consent. his feelings of being a “freak” stem from not feeling right in his own body. this is why sam is abnormally large for an omega, this is where a lot of his self loathing stems from. dean didn’t know before and carries guilt for not stopping it. doesn’t know how to make it better, tries anything he can, which in dean’s world is a lot of pretending it didn’t happen out loud. sam gets by until he starts getting closer to 40 and it starts to get to him more than it used to. amara either gives dean THAT gift instead of bringing mary back, or rowena finds out and gives sam the spell to fix what happened to him at his choice. sam doesn’t tell dean about the change, but he can scent it. it’s obvious sam feels more comfortable in his skin again. suddenly sam smells like his dream partner. cue him dealing with that, dunno if he tells him or acts differently or what. basically it comes out that sam has always scented dean that way and then happy parts ensue.

Hymenated - Demon by forlovedones

RATING: E, Warnings: Chose Not to List, O!Dean&A!Sam Demon Dean is loose in the bunker and stalking his Alpha through the halls. Maybe there'd be time to fuck Sam's brains out first, before he bashed them in with the hammer.

Unexpected by fullmoon_nightowl

RATING: M, Warnings: None, A!Dean&O!Sam Sam always wanted children, but he’s been infertile all his life. Two months after Chuck’s defeated, the stick turns blue. Dean’s protective instincts go into overdrive.

It's Yours, My Demon by littlefirefly31

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Prompt: Could I please for fic where Omega Sam found out a couple a days before the last episode that he is pregnant with Dean's child, but now his alpha is a demon and Sam is doesn't know what to do, but the demon!Dean finds out ... (knotting, bottom!Sam, happy ending)?

To Give You What You Want by littlefirefly31

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Prompt: Post 9 season AU where alpha Dean isn't a demon and brothers lives together as mates (alpha and omega). They are happy but both really wants to have a baby and during Sam's a few day heat Dean going to finally breed his omega (knotting, mpreg) Summary: Sam and Dean were content, but they really wanted something more. They wanted a child. So Dean knew he was going to try everything to breed his omega and give them what they wanted.

And nothing else matters by waywardelle

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Dean inexplicably pushes Sam away when their mother returns to their lives. After she leaves, Dean stays away anyway. Sam wants to kill Dean for ignoring the fact that they're fuckin' mated, but the omega in him tells him to be patient. So, he waits. And he misses his Alpha like crazy.

All in the Timing by C_aura

RATING: E, Warnings: Dub-Con, A!Dean & O!Sam Sam hasn’t had a heat in ten years. Dean may not be his mate, but he’s past waiting patiently and decides it’s time to take a more hands-on approach.

Happy Birthday to Me! by WhiskyBoys

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, O!Dean & A!Sam Dean wants to be an omega, and he wants Sam to be the one to turn him. Sam doesn’t stand a chance.

A new Life by KillerOfHope

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, O!Dean & A!Sam Prompt Fill for SPN Kinkmeme: AU for S10E12 - "About a boy" The witch wasn't just deaging adults, she had them turned into Omegas as well, since she preferred the taste of fresh young Omegas. The cake she and Hansel fed their victims was spiked with magically enhanced Alpha sperm to ensure a quick turn. So when Dean showed up at their motelroom, Sam wasn't just faced with a teen version of his brother, but with a newly presented Omega.

and it's you that i want by according2thelore [rec note: i'm not above a self rec, lol!]

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Dean & A!Sam "You know that’s not what I meant.” Mr. Smith says into the phone, and he sounds exhausted. Sam doesn’t turn around, trying to give him as much privacy as possible, even if it’s imagined. Sam throws his whole body weight into his next pull of the handle, feeling the budding sweat from earlier as a full-body wave, pricking at his neck and armpits and forehead. Nothing. The door doesn’t budge. Sam’s trapped. Or: Sam Wesson gets stuck in a supply closet with his boss, who's hiding out to fight with his girlfriend. Sensing the available omega that Sam's been into for months, Sam goes into an early rut.

since you said "spn" and not specifically wincest, i also have a handful of J2 fics here. i don't even think i really ship J2, but while going through these i realized i have...uh...quite a lot lol...

J2:

for a good cause by hellhoundsprey

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Jensen & A!Jared Jensen covers for a teammate in the kissing booth of a local charity event. It’s for a good cause, after all, and only for an hour. What can possibly go wrong?

Neighborhood Love by ashtraythief

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Jensen & A!Jared Jensen might be an omega, but that doesn’t mean he’s just going to say yes to any alpha who comes along. His parents think he has impossible standards, his friends think he’s a grumpy bastard. There’s probably some truth to all of that, but there’s also the fact that Jared, a really cute and really tall alpha just moved in next door and Jensen has a crush. Thankfully, as it turns out, so does Jared.

Perfect Disaster by ashtraythief

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared Jared never banked on the perfect romantic moment of meeting his mate, but having him come into the ER as a patient is ridiculous. Even after Jensen is recovered, life keeps getting in the way of them properly consummating their mating, until Jensen has enough of the interruptions and whisks Jared away for a weekend getaway.

Crazy About You (Two) by ashtraythief

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared One of the many things that attracted Jared to Jensen when they first met was that Jensen was such a laid-back alpha. He never did any of the dumb alpha posturing, wasn’t possessive or jealous. But recently—recently things had taken a turn. And Jared doesn’t mind the frequent and quite frankly amazing sex they’re having, but when Jensen becomes possessive, quite literally refuses to let him leave the bed, Jared realizes that something’s different. And he does not like it—until he figures out why Jensen’s so possessive all of a sudden.

Better Late Than Never (I Guess) by littlefirefly31

RATING: Not Rated, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared Prompt: Could I ask for fic where alpha Jensen taking care of Jared during his heat (knotting, marathon sex), please? Summary: Jensen's lived next to Jared for five years and he has no idea how to tell the omega he loves him.

Patience Is Not a Virtue by fullmoon_nightowl

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, A!Jensen & O!Jared J1 and J2 recently got mated. J1 is older and wanted to wait for J2's first heat to have sex. J2 doesn't really appreciate it because he's been crushing hard on J2. So while J1 tries to make their first time gentle and sweet, J2 just wants to get his dick already.

Taste Like Sugar by littlefirefly31

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared Prompt: Speaking of series, could you do one where omega!jared is a very tiny wolf and alpha!Jensen, who's large for a wolf, if very protective over him?

Mistaken Identity by littlefirefly31

RATING: Not Rated, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared Prompt: Jared is an unmated omega because of his size most alphas find him intimidating. Or confuse him for a beta. Of course this makes him have insecurities so he starts hiding his omega status. He meets Jensen and of course Jensen is all over him and wants to mate him but Jared thinks he's playing because he's been hurt in the past before. Sorry if it's too long. True mating welcome go free with it. I'm always interested how you put your twists. Thank you.

World Goes 'Round by Misunderstanding by queerly_it_is [rec note: a fandom classic]

RATING: E, Warning: Underage, O!Jensen & A!Jared Jensen and Jared love each other, but neither of them knows that. Jensen goes into heat and seeks out Jared, who gives in to what’s he’s ashamed of wanting. Jared calls Jensen’s parents who make a deal with Jared that they don’t see fit to inform Jensen of, and matters only get worse when Jensen finds out he’s pregnant and runs away from home to keep his baby.

thanks for this ask, anon! i hope you enjoy reading through these! :)

-lizzy

[beanzwrites]

Why Can't I freakin' Have a Pair of $3 Headphones?

Pairing: Sam x Sister! reader

Warning(s): Reader being a slight brat, stern Dean (really just a lil crack post)

Description: Sam buys something that his sister wanted; However, Dean doesn't know.

..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°

        "Hey Dean, can I get these?" (Y/n) asks with a puppy-eyed smile as she walks over to her brother, who was currently deciding between two brands of booze from the alcohol walkway. Sam stands beside him, leaning on his left leg with his arms crossed, and a bored expression resting on his face. Dean barely looks up from the cooler before shaking his head adamantly. 

        "No." Dean grumbles.

        "What? Why not?" She protests.

        "Because we're only getting stuff that we need."

        "And beer is an necessity?" (Y/n) bites back.

        "Of course beer is an necessity. Now, put them back." Dean orders audaciously. His eyebrows curl over his stern gaze and his lips mold tightly into a pout.

        "Why can't I freakin' have a pair of $3 headphones?" She replies back just as childishly. 

        "Because I said so. Why do you want them so badly anyway?"

        "So I can listen to stuff without having to blare it out in the open." 

        "What do you have to hide?"

        "Ugh, just forget I said anything!" She breaths through her nose like an angry bull. She tosses the compact plastic seal onto a nearby shelf before peevishly marching to the end of the aisle.

        "I knew that would get her," Dean snorts dryly to Sam, only to realize he was not impressed with Dean's ethic. "Sheesh, sorry..." Dean blows out, then strolls across to the next lane while whistling a tune.

        As (Y/n) turns to follow behind Dean, out of the corner of her (E/c) eye, she could see Sam reaching in the half empty water section of the shelving to retrieve the headphones she threw. He nonchalantly places it in his coat pocket and she couldn't help but to smile slightly.

        When walking back to the Impala with the few groceries in hand, Sam casually bumps into his sister's shoulder. He grabs the neatly bagged device from his jacket and sneakily places it between (Y/n)'s fingers. "Don't tell Dean," He whispers, giving a warm smile.

        "You're the best," She laughs before giving him a hug from the side.

        "Very inconspicuousness, (Y/n)." Sam says with a proud grin as Dean gives them the stink eye from over his shoulder.

        "Right. Sorry," (Y/n) replies after letting him go, her cheerful mood not going unnoticed by Dean as she places the bags in the trunk and gets in the car without a complaint.

        "What did you do," Dean questions Sam as he slams the back hatch closed.

        "Just fixed what you caused," Sam shrugs with a small smirk.

---

        "Uh, (Y/n), what are these?" Dean calls from across the room. His sister looks up from the novel she's reading on the bed and the color drains from her face. Dean limply dangles the cord from his index finger, anger dancing in his hazel orbs flamboyantly. 

        "Headphones," (Y/n) mumbles loud enough for her older brother to hear.

        "Did you get these behind my back?" 

        "No!" I mean, kinda..."

        "Kinda?"

        "Sammy got them for me."

        As if hearing his name, Sam enters through the main door with a couple of fast food bags soaked at the bottom with grease. He freezes on spot in the open doorway as the tense atmosphere radiates off his siblings. He slowly closes the door with the back of his heel, glancing between his brother and sister questioningly. "What's going on?"

        "What are these?" Dean instigates, showing the headphones to Sam with a slight swing. 

        "Earbuds."

        "Sis said you got them for her."

        "Yeah, I did," Sam sighs as he sets the bags down on the small kitchen counter top. "What's the big deal?"

        "She's too young-"

        "Don't start that bull crap, Dean. If I didn't trust her, I wouldn't have bought them for her. Look man, I know the real reason why you don't want her to have them," Sam says with the roll of his eyes, "Your being a stuck up though. (Y/n) can handle her own, and if she encounters somethings that makes her uncomfortable, she knows what to do. Right, (Y/n)?"

        "Dude, all I want is to listen to music privately on my way back from school. You're acting like I'm going to do something horrible," (Y/n) responds.

        Dean releases a long breath before placing the wire in his sister's lap. "Your right, I overreacted. You can listen to music as much as you like," He remarks while taking out a wrapped burger from the bag and handing it to her.

        "Thanks Dean."

        "But (Y/n)," He comments as he takes a bite out of his own burger and tosses Sam his salad carrier. He groans in delight, juice dripping off his stubbled chin before wiping it with the back of his hand. "If I find anything in your search history... your grounded for life."

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Arpeggio

Chapter Twenty

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam/Madison, Bobby/Annie, Pam/Lee, OFC Gibson, Ash, Benny, Cesar/Jesse, Kevin, Cas, and Charlie

Word Count: 4031

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, recreational drug use, surprise birthday guests, Dean being a giant kid, actually it's everyone, more history and an uh-oh, unbeta'd

A/N: You know how you outline bullet points that you need covered in a chapter and then you write all day long and forget one of the biggest ones until literally the last sentence? Yeah, me neither.

Anyway, I can't believe we are TWENTY whole chapters into this beast. Thank you all, so SO much for hanging around. xoxo Stu

Series Masterlist

Dean’s morning began with a blow horn blast compliments of Sam, who then received a bitch slap from his very frightened and at odds older brother. 

“Rise and shine, jerk. It’s the last year of your thirties!”

Dean groaned and buried his head beneath the pillows, poorly hiding from anymore horns. “Hephha waaff to wff agy hpp birfay”

“WHAT?! I can’t hear you?!”

Dean flipped Sam off and rolled over. “Helluva way to wish a guy Happy Birthday.”

Sam laughed. “Don’t worry, that’s not all.”

He pulled out a bag of the greasiest breakfast burritos from a shop around the corner from Charlies that they had discovered after being up all night gaming, drunk and caffeinated out of their minds. 

“Oh my god, you do love me!” Dean snatched the bag out of Sam’s hand and grabbed a burrito and cradled it to his chest. He looked up at Sam and said fervently, “I take back every mean thing I’ve ever said to you.”

“No you don’t. You’re just hungry. You want me to leave you two alone or should I take it back downstairs where the coffee lives?”

Dean stared down at the warm lump in his hand and honestly considered eating it right away, but Sam was right and scrambled eggs and peppers were not something he wanted to clean off his sheets whenever he found them again after the coming festivities.

“Yeah, thanks, let me grab some clothes and I’ll meet you down there.”

“You got it,” Sam took the burrito back as Dean dropped it into his outstretched hand. 

“No fucking with it now, I know how it’s supposed to be wrapped,” Dean warned with a firm pointer finger.

Sam rolled his eyes and his hair along with them and stalked out of Dean’s room towards the backstairs that led into the kitchen.

They ate breakfast in relative silence, coffee and contemplation and all that. Just two brothers celebrating a year that both of them were worried wouldn’t come. Aging might be a bitch, but it is definitely better than the alternative. And for the Winchester brothers, a blessing they weren’t ever quite sure they deserved.

Charlie and you slinked in just after noon, after Dean and Sam had half-heartedly worked off their breakfasts and showered for the day. You had the most obnoxious balloon cowboy hat for him while Charlie presented him with a ‘birthday prince’ sash that he was under orders to keep on all day.

Dean eyed you both with a simmering shame-twinged annoyance. This wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. He already got looks when he went out as it was, plus only a douche of a grown man demands strangers acknowledge his birthday that way.

“Guys, come on. I’m not— this is a little ridiculous,” Dean didn’t want to be ungrateful.

You sighed. “Okay, fine, spoilsport. Just let us take a few pictures and you can ditch the hat.”

“Oh! The hat was the best part!” Sam lamented.

“Can it, Sammy,” Dean snipped.

Charlie chuckled. “Okay, but you can totally wear the sash where we’re going, because nobody else will even be there to see you in it, just your friends.”

Dean pursed his lips and looked the redhead in the eye, she wasn’t going to let him win. “Great—- just great.”

Lee and Benny were gonna have a field day with this one.

“Atta boy! Say CHEESE!” Charlie chirped, taking way too many shots and angles with him and his birthday attire.

They hung out and shared a joint, picking at a cheese tray that Sam had pulled out. Sure they had places to be, but that was the beauty of being the guest of honor, everything revolved around Dean-time. And as absolutely narcissistic as that sounded, Dean could get used to that kind of schedule.

The party bus arrived just before two. It was actually the band’s touring bus, which meant it was roomy and stocked to the brim with alcohol and edibles. Bud itself was never left on the bus to dry out. Inside were Benny, Cesar and Jesse, all moderately sober as they were also acting as light security detail for the day. Pam and Lee brought Gibson along, which told Dean wherever they were headed was going to be fun, however wholesome. Madison and Annie were there with Bobby upfront driving ‘The Proud Mary’ as the bus was so lovingly called. And around the table in the small kitchenette were Kevin, Ash and Cas.

Holy shit, Dean had to blink.

He turned around on the stairs and looked at you, who were the only one daring enough to pull this off. “Are you kidding me right now?!”

“What?” You smirked and batted your eyelashes with fake innocence.

Dean looked at you and felt something in his chest crack.  But before he could get overrun by the emotions, gratitude, fear, even anger, Sam cleared his throat.

“In or out, Dean, air’s on.”

Dean nodded and blinked away the awe. “Thank you,” he grunted beneath his breath and turned to the cheers and jeers of his people.

“There he is!”

“Birthday boy!”

“Hey Winchester, I like your do-hickey,” Benny teased.

“It’s a sash, dumbass,” Cesar quipped, flicking the brim of Benny’s cap.

“HAPPY BIRTH-DAY,” Pam started offkey and then everybody joined in. Dean nodded along, faux-conducting and fighting the blush on his cheeks with every out of tune note.

He bowed as the song ended and then griped, “Yeah, okay, enough of that. Let’s get this shit started, shall we?! Uh, Gibson you good to DD on the way home, buddy?”

Everyone laughed.

“UNCLE DEAN! I can’t drive yet.”

“You sure?”

“I’m only six!”

“I don’t know,” Dean said thoughtfully, bending to look the stringbean over. “I think you could pass for seven or eight maybe.”

“Nuh-uh!”

Dean ruffled his hair and pulled him into a hug. “Fine! I’ll let Bobby keep his spot for today, but when you get your license, come talk to me about a job young man,” Dean promised.

Dean eased onto the bus, with you and Sam on his heels until you broke off to find a seat. He nodded and accepted hugs and high fives before he made his way to the table in the back, well that section’s back. The bunks and the bathroom were down a short hallway past the eating area and bar.

“Hey guys, thanks for coming,” Dean said broadly, but his eyes couldn’t stop looking for Cas’.

“Of course, man! Gotta celebrate another trip around the sun,” Ash exclaimed, his hair bouncing with his enthusiasm.

Kevin sniggered as he looked up at Dean and back across to Cas. “You know he’s real and everything.”

“He even speaks,” Cas deadpanned, turning his glare at Kevin.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Happy birthday, Dean.”

Dean felt the lurch of the bus entering traffic and panic resurfaced. “Good to see you. But, uh, we’ll catch up at some point? I gotta,” Dean sputtered and thumbed toward the general direction of the side-by-side seats along one wall.

“Of course,” Cas nodded, but gave Dean a tentative smile. Dean felt lightheaded but he felt better when he had a solid seat underneath his ass. Talk about a mindfuck. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and silently thanked the universe that he agreed to these super secret, group, birthday shenanigans.

The adventure park was suspiciously abandoned, even for a weekend day. But Dean took it as part of the present, no paps, no families with kids too young for school clogging up the Skee Ball lanes or having accidents on the go karts. He was kind of amazed y’all were able to pull this off, but it was far enough away from the busier parts of town that maybe you had scored a good deal. Or maybe Dean didn’t want to think about how much you and Sam and probably Bobby had shelled out for the day.

Even after years of his own success, Dean felt guilty whenever people spent money on him.

“Okay, line up for your wristbands. Everyone gets one, if you run out of tokens, tough luck. Laser Tag and Go Karts are available if we ask, just make sure there’s a big enough group to make up for the staff being pulled to those locations. Pizza will be set out as a buffet at five. I’ll get pitchers of water and soda out in the meantime,” you used a teacher's voice over the rowdy crowd as they beelined out of the bus and up to the gates.

Dean was almost giddy; he was so excited.

You bestowed a lanyard over his head, instead of a wristband. Which meant unlimited tokens for games and a turn in the vortex machine where paper tickets floated around and he was supposed to catch them for prizes. He was banking on letting Gibson take that responsibility, but hadn’t said anything because he knew Pam hated to spoil him, especially on someone else’s birthday. Oh well, being a surrogate Uncle held some leeway afterall.

“First one to the gokarts is a rotten egg!” Ash called out, making everyone turn on their heels and book it through the doors.

Dean laughed at the reversion to grade school taunts, but definitely tripped Sam on his way passed.

Somehow, Bobby and Annie got the first kart, but then again Dean didn’t remember seeing them as you made your little announcement, so they must have had a head start. The line was a mass of people bickering for a turn, which color kart they wanted, or which number if you were Charlie and Kevin. Dean had his shotgun attached at his hip, bouncing on the soles of his feet. But everytime he glanced up and saw Cas talking to Sam or nodding at something Pam said, he had to do a double take.

In all, they filled nearly all the available twelve karts. Dean and Gibson were in number 11, Lee, Benny, Pam, Cas, Ash, Kevin, Cesar, Jesse and Charlie all drove solo. While Sam and Madison, Bobby and Annie paired off. No one could get you in one of those things if they tried, and they all knew better than to try. Which Dean was grateful for, he hated rehashing your shit for other people’s understanding.

They did four lap races for almost an hour, with Dean sneaking past Bobby for the final victory. But everyone (except for Ash and Charlie) had lost count of their stats by the time they got inside to chug some soda and hit the arcade area before dinner.

Dean was sweating, faux satin clinging to his back through his shirts as he polished off a cup of flat cola. But he couldn’t keep the grin off his face long, seeing all of his favorite people milling around, trying to one up each other or just beat one another to a coveted game. It was the stuff of childhood birthdays he had only ever dreamed about, but you had made possible.

Lee held Gibson on his shoulders as they took Sam on at the free throw alleys. Charlie and Madison were playing some kind of shooting game while Kevin and Cesar watched them, obviously impressed by their stances with the fake rifles. It made him think of Jo and Big Buck Hunter for the briefest moment, but he tucked that away and chose to relish in the moment instead. Cas and Jesse were at the air hockey table and Bobby and Ash huddled by the wall of Skeeball machines, not partaking themselves, just watching you as you sank ball after ball into the 300 or better rings.

Dean couldn’t pick what he wanted to do next, so he just watched for a few minutes, soaking in the joy around him.

Eventually, his stomach chose for him. The pizzas were delivered in a tidy row down a side table of every cheap topping option available. There was even a mushroom option, which was probably the only thing close to a vegetable in the place, but it meant Sam couldn’t bitch. Everyone chowed down, standing and sitting in hodgepodge groupings, laughing and debating on what to do next.

Pam was comparing Cas’ and Kevin’s tattoos as Dean approached, paper plate firmly in hand, chewing as he silently butt into the conversation.

“Looks good, I mean, he’d hate them, but you know that would only be for show,” Pam said about the late Rufus.

“Yeah,” Cas agreed, pulling his arm back.

“Crotchety old bastard,” Dean added between bites.

“May he rest in peace,” Pam added, respect and mirth flitted in her eyes.

“So, Cas, how’s the kid and the band and fucking everything?” Pam changed the subject.

“Uh, we’re—- making progress,” Cas said simply, clearly unsure what to do with Dean’s presence. He worried at his lip ring like he always did when he was uncomfortable, but Dean was too damn curious and stubborn to take the hint.

“They’re finding their sound, it’s kind of cool to see it happen. You should go with me sometime to their rehearsals. It’s very organic,” Kevin explained. “It’s like they can sense what the other is thinking and just go for it.”

Dean couldn’t even pretend that that didn’t sting.

He cleared his throat. “So, where do you guys practice?”

“Oh— my place,” Cas said.

The fact that Kevin had been hanging with Cas and getting tattoos was one thing. The fact that he was in on this new band and its budding chemistry all while getting to spend time in Cas’ space was nothing short of getting his knees kicked out.

Not to mention, Cas had barely a townhouse with only one extra bedroom. He always preferred to live simply, as he put it.

“How does that work?”

Pam crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows, seeing where this was going better than Dean. “Are you a garage band, Cas?”

He just shrugged.

Dean chuckled under his breath. “That’s what you meant by organic,” he said to Kevin.

“Not exactly— that’s part of it, but I don’t know if it’s like some gene thing or a psychic connection. They’re just really good together.”

Pamela inhaled as Dean squinted at Cas, who had gone stock still with Kevin’s words.

“Gene thing?”

“Dean—,” Pamela warned.

“Oh, crap,” Kevin said, realizing too late that Dean was apparently more in the dark than he’d known.

Castiel remained silent, eyes boring into Dean, waiting for the explosion. It made Dean sick to realize that Cas was afraid of him, of his temper, still.

Dean set down his slice of pizza and squared his shoulders, trying to keep it civil. To not be that guy anymore. “Cas, come on man. What’s that about? He some long lost cousin or something?”

“Jack’s my kid, actually.”

Dean sputtered. “Yeah right, nice one.”

Everyone glared at him.

“You’re serious? How? When? I would have fucking noticed if you had actually boned down some chick—- I mean how old is he?”

Cas rolled his eyes and Dean had the sinking sensation that absolutely none of this was his business. But Cas had been his best friend for most of their lives— it was important information to have, even if it was twenty years too late.

Kevin and Pam silently agreed to disappear, but Dean couldn’t pinpoint the moment it happened. They were there and then they were gone.

“Dean,” Cas chastised.

“No— I deserve to know. I mean, what the hell? A kid?”

Cas raised his eyebrow, the one with the damn ring in it and Dean wanted, not for the first time, to yank it out.

“Kind of like I— like we deserved to know you were in an underground fighting ring? Like you had some sort of deathwish pact with a pimp and a known murderer?”

Dean felt an icy chill run down his spine, his hands instantly turned to fists and he had to breathe to keep the rage at bay. But his chest was so tight and the shame had become worms in his stomach. He wasn’t going to puke at his own birthday party, not from something as pathetic as his own mistakes. Alcohol would have been an easier taste in his mouth.

The party continued around them, but Dean didn’t reply. He couldn’t.

Cas seemed to register that and looked down at his boots before meeting Dean’s eye once more. “Dean, I’m sorry— that— that was uncalled for.” 

Dean swallowed down the bile and exhaled.

He unclenched his fists, shaking them slightly to feel something other than overwhelming emotion, the kind he’d need a few sessions with Missouri to even name.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean grunted, head down as he got himself together.

“Dean— we should talk, but I can’t really explain myself in front of everyone.”

Dean hummed.

“It’s just— I think there’s a lot we never got off our chests and it only made the last couple of years harder— on both of us.”

“It seems like everyone else already knows your business, Cas. Just kind of sucks to be the last to know.”

Cas nodded, eyes still tight, still on guard.

“But I guess the way I was— kind of makes sense. I didn’t deserve to know.”

Cas’ face softened. “Dean— that’s not. Let’s not, right now. Later. Okay?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

Dean inched around the corner, weapon drawn and head on a swivel. He couldn’t see much, but endless nooks for the enemy to hide. The arena was dark, out of necessity, but it only added to the adrenaline pumping through him. Dean nodded to his teammate and they spun around the next edge, fingers on their triggers as they stood back to back. 

He really wished they had communication between the other members of Green Team, but that was just rich people thinking for a family entertainment center. It wasn’t like they were storming the beaches of Normandy here.

Something moved in his periphery but before Dean could turn you shot behind him, getting Kevin square in the chest. You both watched as Kevin fell dramatically to the floor, one down, five more to go.

“Nice shot,” Dean said out of the corner of his mouth.

“I feel like that was too easy,” you replied, searching the area while you whispered.

“Might have been a scout,” Dean agreed.

“Yeah, but—” 

He felt you shift behind him and he rounded to cover you, but Benny was already there, a near wall of guns behind him. 

“It was a fire fight!” Ash screamed out of his spot above them, taking Charlie out with the distraction.

You kept your body turned, lessening their target and fired without even blinking, but Sam had height on you and you ended up taking each other out. Dean, unable to make a shot connect, cursed, turned tail, and ran, ducking down a ladder and trying to loop back on Benny and Pam.

Three down to his team’s one, that he knew of, still good odds.

But then he saw Jesse sitting with his back against a wall, clearly down. Dean needed to find Cas and Cesar yesterday. Or they wouldn’t be able to call it in their favor. He crouched down and checked his back, without you to watch his six he felt extra exposed, though he kept to the edges, using the shadows to his advantage.

He heard whispering and he immediately hit the deck, rolling until he was flush with wall length-wise. But the voices stopped about ten feet away, either on the level above him or around the corner out of sight. Dean waited, gun drawn and senses on overdrive.

The telltale electronic chime of a chest plate activating sounded off and the voices turned from whispers to shouts of shock. Someone had gotten Pam. 

Which meant that Lee and Benny were the only ones left from Sam’s team.

And Lee was alone looking to the rafters from the sounds of it.

Dean army-crawled around the corner and got Lee from underneath, his cackle of victory the only way Lee even knew he was there.

“You sonofabitch!” Lee griped, helping Dean up before disappearing to the land of misfit toys, aka following Pam to the nearest exit.

Cesar appeared, seemingly out of nowhere and nodded Dean back to the rest of the team. Cas and Ash were still alive and kicking, strategizing on how to find or draw out Benny. But before Dean could turn and let Cesar back into the huddle, his chest piece crackled to life: Benny had shot him in the back.

Dean waved him off, trying to catch up with Benny’s trail, as Ash and Cas flanked him widely. They tried to cast a broad net, but instead they left too much space and Benny wound around them and took Ash out without Dean or Cas even seeing him.

Dean looked at Cas and Cas nodded, doubling back and letting Dean take point. 

It felt like hours, but really it only took maybe five more minutes of creeping around the obstacles in the center of the arena for Dean to catch sight of Benny. His sturdy frame ducked behind a pillar as Dean slowly followed. But he was too slow, because Benny had spun around and had his gun on Dean’s back plate before Dean could move.

“Bang bang,” Benny taunted, but he didn’t pull the trigger. He wanted Dean to surrender, but that wouldn’t do anything unless… Benny didn’t know Cas was still out there.

Dean held up his arms, but he didn’t drop his weapon.

“Alright, cher, nice and easy,” Benny coaxed Dean to turn face him.

“You got me,man,” Dean huffed, playing it up.

“Well, even the Birthday Prince loses sometimes.”

Then Benny’s chest flashed to life.

“What the—”

“And sometimes they still win,” Cas’ deadpan interrupted Benny’s surprise.

“Nice one, Cas!” Dean held up his hand for a high five, but Cas just cocked his head as the overheads snapped on, blinding them all in sudden light.

It wasn’t the first time that Dean thought Cas had some super-human senses. And he was happy to think that it probably wasn’t the last time either. Not anymore.

Everything considered, Gibson won the day. Every single adult, even Kevin, forked over the prize tickets they had wracked up on their wristbands for Gibson to exchange for a four foot long stuffed dog from some show or another. Dean fist bumped him and helped him carry the thing back onto the bus. But before Dean could haul himself up the first step, Sam pulled him back to the curb.

“Here— don’t say I never got you anything.” Sam handed him a massive rainbowed Slinky.

“Holy shit! I didn’t even see that! This is awesome,” Dean geeked out. “Thanks, man.”

Sam just shook his head and grinned.

Everyone got back on the bus and started in on the adult beverages as you sorted the tab and made sure everything was alright with the staff. Dean sat on his hands, forcing himself not to run back in and add on his own tip. He really did trust you, but some habits were hard to break. 

“Ready?” Dean heard Bobby ask you before cranking the door shut.

The bus rumbled off the curb and into the neverending traffic of the city at night. But they had everything they could possibly need on board. And when you sat down in the spot beside him, Dean couldn’t think of a single thing that could make his birthday any better.

He looked over at you and smiled, soft, just a hint of it on his lips, trying to keep himself from saying something stupid. You rolled your eyes and smiled back. And yeah, today might have been one for the books. But there were still chapters left unwritten between you two and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to wait anymore to find out what they’d said.

Then his phone rang. “Dean? Happy birthday! How did you want to go celebrate?”

It was Bela.

He had completely forgotten to invite Bela.

And apparently, somehow, so had you.

Fuck.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter 22: Dolce

[swordofsun]

One of the things I have discussed ad nauseum with @ilarual and @mybrainproblems is how Dean doesn't give John a denouncement in Lebanon because he doesn't need to give John a denouncement. He's already done it. Just because John wasn't there doesn't mean it didn't serve the same purpose for Dean.

Yes, I'm talking about 03x10 Dream A Little Dream Of Me:

DREAM DEAN

Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument.

(angry)

Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you?

DEAN

(angry)

Son of a bitch!

DEAN pushes DREAM DEAN hard, knocking him into the wall above the desk.

DEAN

(screaming angrily)

My father was an obsessed bastard!

DREAM DEAN tries to get up and DEAN kicks him down on the desk again. DEAN holds the weapon as a bat and hits DREAM DEAN once and then pins him to the wall with it.

DEAN

All that crap he dumped on me, about protecting Sam! That was his crap. He's the one who couldn't protect his family. He-

DEAN steps back and swings the weapon again, hitting DREAM DEAN twice.

DEAN

He's the one who let Mom die.

DEAN pins DREAM DEAN again.

DEAN

– who wasn't there for Sam. I always was! He wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me.

He backs away from DREAM DEAN.

DEAN

And I don't deserve to go to Hell!*

The catharsis is admitting that John was unfair and expected too much. It doesn't actually need to be said to John. This is stuff Dean needs to acknowledge in himself. To accept and move forward with that knowledge. It's finally verbalized this that allows him to admit to Sam that he doesn't want to die and he doesn't want to go to hell.

But I also realized today that Dean does also get that yelling at John moment. He just doesn't get to remember it until 04x15 when Tessa gives him back his memories of 02x01.

JOHN is sitting by DEAN'S bed; !DEAN STANDS NEARBY.

!DEAN

Come on, Dad. You've gotta help me. I've gotta get better, I've gotta get back in there. I mean, you haven't called a soul for help. You haven't even tried. Aren't you going to do anything? Aren't you even going to say anything?

(he starts walking around the bed)

I've done everything you have ever asked me. Everything. I have given everything I've ever had. And you're just going to sit there and you're going to watch me die? I mean, what the hell kind of father are you?**

And, again, it doesn't matter that John doesn't hear any of this. Because it's not for John. It's for Dean. Dean's the one who needed to acknowledge everything John did to him. And he does. He just doesn't have the need to then talk about it with other people or waste the short period of time he has with John in Lebanon hashing over stuff he's already dealt with.

He even gets an acknowledgment from John that he was wrong to raise Dean the way he did. He just followed it up by giving Dean one last shitty order. But he still does say:

JOHN

You know, when you were a kid, I'd come home from a hunt, and after what I'd seen, I'd be, I'd be wrecked. And you, you'd come up to me and you, you'd put your hand on my shoulder and you'd look me in the eye and you'd... You'd say "It's okay, Dad"

(pauses)

Dean, I'm sorry.

DEAN

What?

JOHN

You shouldn't have had to say that to me, I should have been saying that to you. You know, I put, I put too much on your shoulders, I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sammy, you took care of me. You did that, and you didn't complain, not once. I just want you to know that I am so proud of you.**

By the time Lebanon comes around he's dealt with all this crap. He's had his moments of yelling about the unfairness of it all. He's dealt with his issues around Mary making the deal in the first place and not leaving them any warnings or explanations.***

Lebanon is about healing an old hurt that's been festering since he was 4 years old. It's giving him one last happy family meal. Why would he ruin that by yelling at John about things he's already dealt with?

SAM

How did this happen?

DEAN

I-I-I don’t know. You said that the – the pearl gives you what your heart desires, right? So, my heart desired – I – I’ve wanted this, man. I’ve – I’ve wanted this since I was 4 years old.

SAM

Okay, I know, and I-I-I-I love this, too, Dean. I do, honestly, but – but messing with time –

DEAN

No, no, no, Sam.

SAM

You know how this ends. Things change.

DEAN

Yeah, great – we got our family back together. I’ll take that change.

SAM

That’s not what I mean.

DEAN

Stop. Just stop, okay? Look, can – can we just have one family dinner? Just one? Us – all of us together. That’s all I want. Can you just give me that?****

I think sometimes people get so focused on what they'd like to see that they forget what would actually make sense for the characters. Dean's had his denouncements and Lebanon is about reaffirming his happiness on where he is now.

JOHN

No, son. My fight. It was supposed to end with me, with Yellow Eyes. But now you – you are a grown man, and I am incredibly proud of you. I guess that I had hoped, eventually, you would… get yourself a normal life, a peaceful life, a family.

[DEAN nods. He smiles.]

DEAN

I have a family.****

*03x10 Transcript

**02x01 Transcript

***See 12x22 Who We Are

****14x13 Transcript

[laurel-finch]

'I Don't Bite' S1.Ch16: God's Instrument

Summary: A brief calm before the storm... Referenced Episodes: S1 E20 "Dead Man's Blood" CW: John Winchester being an asshole (per usual). Word Count: 6163 words. Recommended Song: Learning to Fly -- Pink Floyd Previous Chapter -- Masterlist -- Next Chapter

I wished I had asked to ride with the brothers. I wished I hadn't driven my damn truck. I was so tired of driving, and I was sure I was missing something crucial by not being in the car with them. Were they discussing the vampires? Or maybe their father? Who the fuck knows. I certainly didn't.

I pouted in my seat, mulling over what little I knew of the case so far. Some old hunter named Elkins had been killed by a group of vampires – a coven, I thought. Stupid name. Made me think of something a bunch of goth teenagers would call themselves. Though if the movies held any fact, vampires were just a bunch of goths.

Despite the sun bearing down on me and warming the entire of my old rust-bucket truck, I felt like I could fall asleep at any moment. To be fair, I had been awake for, what, thirty hours now? God, I couldn't wait to get to sleep.

My eyes snapped open as the Impala roared to life and flashed forward, swerving in front of John's glossy pickup. It screeched to a halt and Sam stormed out of the driver's side door not even a second after putting the car in park.

I pulled off the road, out of the way of any passing cars. Not that it mattered, as the boys and their father had effectively taken up three-quarters of the road. The door protested as I thrust it open and strode towards the quarreling Winchesters.

"We need to talk," Sam shouted across the road to his father, who was just stepping out of his vehicle. Sam looked absolutely livid, his hands balled into tight fists. Dean looked visibly annoyed behind him, although clearly more so at his brother than his father.

"About what?" John hissed out and stopped in front of Sam, nose to nose with his taller son.

Sam sneered and gestured wildly. "About everything. Where are we going, Dad? What's the big deal about this gun? How do you know it can kill the demon?"

Dean placed his hand on Sam's shoulder and his younger brother roughly shoved him off. He scowled. "Sammy, come on, we can Q-and-A after we kill all the vampires."

"Your brother's right, we don't have time for this," John added. I frowned. There was always time to discuss what was going on - the boys had a right to know.

"John, you can't keep them in the dark," I offered, keeping my tone as polite as possible. His eyes snapped to mine, holding a furious look in them that made my skin crawl. "We have as much right to know what's going on as you do."

John glared daggers at me and I squared my shoulders, standing my ground. Maybe we had been the wrong word. I hated that he thought that look would get him anywhere with me. I wasn't his sons, I couldn't be ordered around like a soldier.

"Last time we saw you, you said it was too dangerous for us to be together. Now out of the blue, you need our help," Sam shouted angrily, pointing an accusing finger at his father. "Now obviously something big is going down, and we wanna know what!" I winced. Sam's aggression wasn't going to get him anywhere with John. It was like talking to a brick wall that could punch you.

John's hands curled into fists and he glared ferociously at his youngest son. "Get back in the car," he finally ordered, his tone low and icy, thick with malice.

Sam snorted as though it was some joke. "No," he sneered, his tone equally as dangerous. My eyes widened in shock. I had never heard the boys talk back to their father, and I had never expected to see it. They had been so happy to reunite with him again, and now suddenly it was crumbling.

I glanced towards Dean, whose green eyes were just as wide. They quickly narrowed with annoyance and frustration. I sidled over to him and placed my hand gently on his upper arm reassuringly. Thankfully, he didn't shrug me off as Sam had done to him.

"I said get back in the damn car," John ordered, his voice rising with increasing anger.

"And I said no!" Sam shouted, moving to take a step towards his father. In a flash, Dean was between them, his hand placed on Sam's chest and pushing him back.

"Alright, you’ve made your point, tough guy," he growled out, glaring at his father and younger brother. "Look, we're all tired, we can talk about this later. Sammy, I mean it, come on." He flashed Sam a meaningful look and gave him one last shove in the direction of the Impala.

Sam held his father's stare for another few seconds and then turned away, eyes focused on the ground and fists curling and uncurling in rage. "This is why I left in the first place," he grumbled.

My eyes snapped open. I had heard very little of why Sam had left the family and gone to college. Frankly, I thought it wasn't any of my business. I knew Sam and his father had gotten into an argument, but I never knew the extent of it.

My eyes shifted to John, who looked stricken and utterly appalled. His eyes narrowed quickly and he ground his teeth together. "What'd you say?"

Oh, fuck.

Sam spun on his heels and snarled at his father. If looks could kill, John would have been in pieces. "You heard me," he snapped.

"Yeah," said John as he took a few long strides towards Sam. "You left. Your brother and me, we needed you. You walked away, Sam," he spoke, his words dripping with hurt and pent-up anger. "You walked away!"

I winced at Dean's pitiful attempts to separate the both of them, his words being drowned out by their argument. We didn't have time for this – there was a case at hand, and if we didn't hurry up, those vamps might attack more people.

"You're the one who said don't come back Dad, you closed that door, not me!" Sam retorted, taking a step closer to his father, "You were just pissed off that you couldn't control me anymore!"

John lunged forward and reached for Sam's shirt. In a flash, I dove between them and reflexively pushed them apart, my strength sending them backward and sprawled across the road. "That's enough!" I shouted fists clenched in frustration. "Both of you, get back to your cars. We'll discuss this civilly after we work this case." I growled out, casting glares between the two men. "I refuse to put up with your petty bullshit when there are lives on the line. You can sort out your feelings later."

The two men fell silent, glaring heatedly at each other, and looking as though they still had spiteful words they wanted to share. "Get in your cars now," I hissed out, tone low and threatening. I turned my head to glare down at John, whose eyes held an air of disobedience that drew a shiver of anger down my spine. "Go," I snarled.

I held John's glare for a few moments until he finally stood. He brushed off his clothes and cast me one last suspicious look before turning back towards his truck without a word. I wheeled slowly on Sam, who was being pulled to his feet by his brother.

"I don't care what kind of argument you and your dad had in the past," I said coldly. "Now is not the time to be discussing it. Get your shit together so we can solve this case," I spat and turned on my heels, storming back to my truck.

The truck groaned softly as I changed gears and followed John down the highway, the brothers not far behind me. I tapped my fingers loudly against the side of the wheel in irritation, deep in thought. I couldn't help but wonder why Sam felt that now was the time to act out. Sure, I could understand it – even I disliked the fact that John thought he could immediately take over and that anyone would follow him without question.

It seemed to me that John was borderline narcissistic, although clearly unintentionally. He cared a lot for his sons, that much was clear, but he had a funny way of showing it. Treating your companions as soldiers was never the way to garner respect.

But on the flip side, it was selfish for Sam to resume this argument now of all times. I could see why John was so frustrated – we were finally one step closer to getting revenge, and his son, who he thought would have his back, was now challenging his authority.

I could understand the desire for revenge. Hell, I felt it when I discovered that my uncle was murdered by a wraith. I still felt it.

The Winchester family was a mess.

I sighed and gripped the wheel tighter, my eyes following John's truck as it weaved down the road. Finally, he flashed his right turn signal and darted off to the right, down an exit road that would presumably lead back to town. I followed closely behind.

The road was starting to blur when John finally halted in front of a shabby-looking building, the motel sign flashing dimly above the roof. "Thank God," I mumbled to myself as I pulled into a parking space beside his truck. Moments later, the Impala came roaring around the corner and screeched to a halt beside my truck. I winced at the sound of the tires squealing.

I pushed my door open and slid out, wincing at the prickling sensation in my feet. My muscles felt stiff from the long day of driving, just as I had anticipated. I pulled the keys from the ignition and dug around in the back seat for my bag.

The sound of footsteps drew my attention and I turned to face Sam, a tired scowl on his face. "You wanna stay in our room, or get your own?" he asked bluntly.

I turned away from him and fished my backpack off the floor, swinging it over my shoulder. "I'll get my own room. Don't think your dad would be too happy about me crashing with you." Sam scoffed and spun on his heels without another word. I rolled my eyes; he was acting like a child.

I ignored John's gaze as I marched past him to the main office. I could feel him glaring daggers into my back as I walked. Sure, I understood why he was mad – I interrupted a family argument that I likely had no place taking part in. Didn't help that I was sure he still didn't quite trust me...

My mind raced as I thought of my actions this evening. It was stupid of me to get between them, to shove Sam and John apart. Of course he looked at me suspiciously, I practically threw both of them! I cast a nervous glance over my shoulder, only to find John had disappeared, along with the boys.

I needed to be more careful.

The main office of the motel was quite nice and well put together. Lights cast a golden glow around the room, but they weren't so bright as to be obnoxious. The room had a tasteful color scheme, cream with light brown accents, and the occasional large fake plant was scattered around. I hoped the actual motel rooms would be just as pleasant.

The woman at the front desk had a cigarette between her garishly red lips, the lipstick staining the shaft. She held a magazine in her hands and her eyes, covered in heavy blue eyeshadow, darted across the page.

Her eyes flitted up to meet mine as my heavy boots padded across the linoleum floor. Her eyes went wide and her jaw slackened, the cigarette hanging loosely between her red lips. It took me several seconds to realize what a mess I must look like, covered in bruises and scrapes. She hurriedly put her magazine aside and turned her attention toward me.

"What can I do for you, honey?" she asked sweetly. "Do you need a room?"

I nodded and flashed her the sweetest smile I could muster, hoping it would make up for my unsightly features. "Yes, please. One bed," I said, handing her my credit card.

She nodded and filled out her ledger. She glanced at me one last time, her brown eyes scanning my face nervously, and then handed me a room key. "Room 105, in front of the parking lot. You can pay when you check out." I smiled again and thanked her before spinning on my heels and walking back out the door, her eyes boring into me as I went.

Thankfully, room 105 wasn't far from the main office. In fact, it was only a few doors down from Sam and Dean, and supposedly their father. I assumed John was in a separate room, but close by. He was always close by.

The room was small and undecorated, but cozy, with a small kitchenette and bathroom. I left the door open a crack, as I didn't plan to stay long.

I dumped my bag on the bed, rummaging through it. Finally, I drew my hairbrush from it and a small pack of makeup. I rarely used makeup, it just wasn't something I thought about, but for cases where we needed to look professional, it wasn't a bad idea. I hummed in delight, knowing I could finally make myself look presentable.

I froze when I saw myself in the bathroom mirror. I really hadn't expected it to look that bad. My jaw was decorated with various bruises, ranging from deep blue in the center and fanning out to greenish-yellow. My eye didn't look much better, the skin around the socket nearly purple with tinges of red. My nose, although corrected and back in its usual place, was scuffed, with deep but short cuts along the bridge. My lip was split, although not severely enough for it to sting every time I wet my lips.

I frowned at my reflection. No amount of concealer would be able to cover this up entirely. I sighed and ran the brush through my hair, starting at the ends and working my way up. It was knotted, and in some spots matted.

I looked like someone had repeatedly hit me with a baseball bat.

My hair was a nightmare to tame, though I did eventually manage to get it back to its normal state. I stared at my face, not even sure where to start. I leaned forward, placed my hands on the countertop, and inspected each bruise.

"Need some help?" I heard a voice from the doorway and I jumped, stumbling back until my heels hit the rim of the tub. In the doorway stood Dean, smirking confidently and leaning against the door frame.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound cruel.

His smirk dropped and he buried his hands deep into his pockets, a dejected expression on his face. "Don't exactly want to be around dad or Sam right now. Didn't know where else to go and, well... your door was open." He reached up to scratch the back of his neck nervously. "I can leave if-"

"No!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up, "No, it's alright. I don't mind you being here, honestly." He smiled lazily in response and then cleared his throat, gesturing at the sparse makeup supplies on the counter.

"So... you need any help?" he questioned. I crossed my arms and smirked.

"Do you know how to do makeup?" I asked, a teasing note in my voice. The tips of Dean's ears flushed and that confident smirk quickly returned.

"Can't be too difficult," he replied. "You just smear it on, right?"

I chuckled at his cluelessness. "Something like that," I teased, though it was very clear by my tone that there was a lot more to it than that. I took a few steps towards the counter and reached for a washcloth, wetting it and gently dragging it down my cheeks. "Honestly, I should probably take a shower. I took one before I left the house, but it's been, what, almost twenty-four hours since then?" I dabbed the cloth under my eye and winced as the soft fabric made contact with the damaged skin.

Dean hummed in response as his fingers ran over the various makeup items. I hadn't bothered to bring anything too big with me. A few small brushes, some blush, and concealer, but that was about it. He lifted a brush and inspected it. "I don't know why you brought any of this," he muttered.

My hand stopped its circling motions, the towel coming to a halt on my cheek. My eyes drifted towards his relaxed reflection and his veridian eyes met mine. "What?" I asked, hoping he would clarify.

"You don't need it," he added, his eyes never leaving the mirror, and subsequently mine. "You always look good, even without it."

I couldn't help but blush, my eyes dropping to the sink as I ran the cloth under the water again. "Yeah, maybe normally I do," I mumbled. "But right now..."

"You look beautiful," he interjected. I stiffened, the warm water running down my fingers and spilling into the sink. "Makes you look tough." If I hadn't been blushing before, I certainly was now, the pink likely complementing the red bruises around my eye. Dean placed the brush back on the counter and turned his eyes away from my reflection and towards me. "What happened anyway?"

It took me a few seconds to respond while I continued to run the cloth under the water. Beautiful. In what reality? "Got into a fight," I began. "With Caeden. Nothing much." I regretted saying it as soon as I did. There was more than I was letting on, and there was no doubt he knew that.

Dean jumped to his feet in a hurry and leaned toward me. "What d'you mean you got into a fight with Caeden? He attack you or something?"

"No, nothing like that," I replied, finally shutting the water off. "Just a sparring match gone wrong."

Dean fell silent, inspecting my profile. I refused to look at him – if I did, I was sure he would know that there was more to the story. Truthfully, I wasn't even sure why I was hiding it from him. Maybe because I didn't want him to worry? Hell, the last time I told him something when even I didn't know the full story, he was ready to go apeshit on a few whispers.

"You know, you've got a limp," he finally said, his tone serious. "I noticed it as soon as you got out of your truck today."

"It's really nothing, Dean," I said, trying not to sound desperate. "I'm fine."

"Like hell you are," he grumbled. I winced at his tone. I almost would have felt better if he had yelled at me, called me an idiot for getting hurt. "You look like you got run over by a bulldozer, sweetheart," he growled out.

"And yet I'm still beautiful?" I hissed out. "Which is it, Dean? Am I beautiful, or am I a mess?" The room was silent, save for the occasional drop of water from the soaked towel hitting the counter.

I yelped as I was suddenly lifted in the air, large hands gripping my waist. Dean sat me down gently on the countertop and reached for the washcloth, his fingertips brushing over the back of my hand. "What you are," he said as he gently ran the cloth over my cheek, "is stubborn."

I frowned and placed my hands on my knees, glaring at him. "How so?"

His green eyes flickered to mine for a split second and then immediately darted back to my various bruises. "I know there's something you're not telling me," he retorted. "I just don't know what- or why." I froze, panic gripping my lungs like talons, squeezing the air out in a split second. I fell silent. Dean continued his silent ministrations, paying special attention to my hairline and just in front of my ears where I was sure to have missed spots of blood.

"You know," he began, "I'm a bit worried about dad." At this I lifted a brow and flickered my eyes to his, expecting him to continue. "He... I think he might be on to you."

I stiffened and gripped his wrist, stopping his movements. "And you only thought to tell me this now!?" I hissed out. Dean's eyes went wide and then quickly narrowed.

"Well I haven't exactly had much time to talk to you," he spat. He pouted briefly and turned my head to the side slightly, dragging the cloth slowly down my neck. "He was asking about you yesterday after you hung up the phone on him. Asking what we knew about you, where you came from, your hunting experience."

"Shit," I mumbled out, casting my gaze downward. Dean hummed quietly.

"You throwing him today probably didn't help," he added. I rolled my eyes and watched him. His gaze was focused and his lips drawn tightly together in thought. I had to admit, it was a nice view. It dawned on me then that Dean was probably just as exhausted as I was, although likely for entirely different reasons. Who wouldn't be tired after having to deal with their quarreling brother and father all day?

Dean took a step back to inspect my bruises, eyebrows drawn together in thought. "Alright," he said. "I think I got it all. Now let's see if I can figure out this makeup." A grin spread across my features as he fumbled with the brushes, unsure of which one to grab. I pointed to the concealer by his hand and he quickly snatched it. "Why are you even putting makeup on? Aren't you going to go to bed?"

I chuckled softly and kicked my legs softly, my heels hitting the counter. "I was thinking about getting some food first. Dried gas station jerky can only get you so far, you know?"

Dean laughed and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it up slightly. My eyes followed his motions and settled on his face as his hand fell. So many freckles, I thought. I could probably spend days counting them.

"When was the last time you ate a real meal?" Dean asked, unscrewing the cap on the liquid concealer. I giggled at his shocked expression when he realized it had a small brush on the end.

"Probably breakfast, yesterday?" I responded, failing to keep the questioning tone out of my voice. "It really depends – do you consider jerky and Oreos to be a meal?"

Dean laughed and lifted my head, pinching my chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger. "An emergency meal, maybe."

I shrugged. "Well, it was an emergency. And I've got a few Oreos left in the package. Maybe I can have that for dinner," I teased.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Dean grumbled and smeared a glob of concealer across my cheek.

I grimaced and gripped his wrist in my hand. "Not that much," I said. He frowned and reached to wipe some off with his thumb, but I caught his other wrist. "Take a washcloth and spread it gently," I added, reaching for a dry cloth at the end of the counter. "Like this," I said, demonstrating on my own cheek. His eyes followed my movements and he nodded, taking the cloth from me.

I fell silent as he did his best to apply it. I watched him while he worked, smiling slightly each time his expression changed. He had a tendency to poke the inside of his cheek with his tongue when he was focused - it amazed me how intent he was on making it look right.

Finally, he took a step back and gave my face one last inspection before nodding. "I think I did it," he said, looking pretty pleased with himself. I lifted a teasing brow and hopped down from the counter, spinning on my heels to inspect his work.

He really hadn't done a bad job; maybe it was applied a bit too thick here or there, but overall it looked clean. The bruises were still apparent under the makeup, but not until you were close enough to get a clear look.

I grinned widely and turned to face him, nodding excitedly. His own eyes widened in excitement and he smirked. "See? Told you I knew how to do it."

I laughed and grinned happily at him. "I should have never doubted you, Winchester." His smirk widened with confidence, and I reached to take the cloth from him, dabbing softly at a few spots that needed some correction. I looked like a new woman. I smiled at his reflection in the mirror. "You ready to go to dinner?"

—

The vampire's den was a shabby old barn that looked as though it would fall apart in a strong gust of wind. The Winchesters and I watched as a beaten old Camaro pulled up to the barn doors where another vampire stood watching.

The vampire in the doorway ushered his companion in, a clear argument commencing between them. From this distance, I couldn't hear them. It bothered me, to say the least.

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered to my side. "So they're really not afraid of the sun?"

John shook his head. "Direct sunlight hurts like a nasty sunburn. The only way to kill 'em is by beheading. And yeah, they sleep during the day - doesn't mean they won't wake up." I frowned in thought; surely there had to be more to them than just that. Knowing that there was a monster out there that I didn't understand made my skin crawl. I prided myself in my knowledge of monsters, and yet even I had believed they were extinct.

"So I guess walking in's not our best option," Dean joked with a soft chuckle. John laughed.

"Actually, that's the plan," John replied. Three heads snapped to him, and utter shock filled my eyes. John motioned for the group to stand, and the boys followed him to his weapons cache. I marched towards  my pickup, feeling resolute. At least I knew one thing that could kill them.

I flipped a latch just behind the passenger's seat and pushed the bench seat upwards, revealing the stash of weapons underneath. The lock was rusty and stiff, but luckily still kept everything in place.

"Hey Dad, I've got an extra machete if you need one," Dean called.

John laughed and held up his own, a nasty-looking blade with a serrated edge. "I think I'm good." Dean's jaw dropped, an awestruck and giddy look on his face. I rolled my eyes. Of course, he would geek out over a cool knife. "So you boys really want to know about this Colt?" John asked.

"Yes sir," Sam called back as he rifled through the weapons in the back of the Impala. I listened intently as I sorted through my uncle’s mess of equipment for suitable weapons.

"It's just a story, a legend really. Well, I thought it was. Never really believed it until I read Daniel's letter..." his voice faded off wistfully. He shook his head and picked up the story again. "Back in 1835, when Halley's comet was overhead, the same night those men died at the Alamo, they say Samuel Colt made a gun. A special gun, like uh- an instrument of God, I think he called it. He made it for a hunter, a man like us only on horseback. Story goes he made thirteen bullets, and this hunter used the gun a half dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. And somehow Daniel got his hands on it." John sighed as he ran a rag over his machete blade. "They say... they say this gun can kill anything." A shiver ran down my spine. A gun that could kill anything... John had mentioned it yesterday in passing, but to know the legend... made it seem all the more real.

I had never been afraid of most man-made weapons until that moment. Guns had never bothered me in the past, unless it carried silver in its cartridge. But now... There had to be something this gun couldn't kill. If not, then this thing truly was the embodiment of the wrath of God.

"Kill anything, like, supernatural anything?" Dean questioned.

"Like the demon?" Sam added.

John nodded. "Yeah, the demon. Ever since I picked up its trail I've been looking for a way to destroy that thing. Find the gun – we may have it."

I shook my head in disbelief. Everything was changing so quickly. First the pack, then my barrier... I thought I had overcome that, but now... I couldn't even make contact with my instinctive side, and it felt like it was vastly out of my control anytime I did shift.

And now this gun.

I suddenly had so much to worry about, so much to fear. What if I could never access my paws like I had been able to in the past? And what about the whispers?

It was a firm possibility that maybe I was just going nuts. I wished that were the case, but it couldn't be. Crazed whispers don't lead you around.

"Hey!" Sam called my name from the other side of the Impala, peeking his head around. "You ready to go?"

I reached for the belt I had been loading with supplies. A gun, just in case, with an extra magazine of bullets, several knives, including a silver one, and a machete, strapped to my waist. I hooked the belt around my waist and looked over my supplies. After making sure everything was there, I nodded to Sam and followed the Winchesters down the hill and towards the nest of vampires.

John led us to the side of the barn where a large window was latched. He quietly broke the latch and opened the window, allowing cascades of light to filter into the barn. With one last glance over his shoulder, he slipped into the room. Dean followed close behind, then Sam, and then finally me. My boots hit the straw floor with a dull thump.

John had already disappeared into the shadows, intent on his search for the Colt, as he had called it. My eyes surveyed the large room, taking it in.

The vampires, to my surprise, slept in hammocks. I had half expected them to sleep upside down, like in the movies. One side of the room was packed with sleeping vamps, their limbs strewn awkwardly over the sides of the net hammocks, gentle snores coming from the odd comatose body. To the right was a small bar with several empty bottles of jack littered across the countertop.

A particularly loud snore came from my left and I stiffened, instinctively reaching for my machete handle. Thankfully, the monster didn't wake up.

The monster. It was strange how quickly I began to see them as the enemy, despite being just like them. But then again, I didn't kidnap young couples.

A soft clinking caught my attention and I whipped my head to a fallen bottle, next to Dean's foot. He winced and glanced nervously at a sleeping vampire. The vampire didn't wake. I held back a sigh of relief and moved away from the sleeping vamps, toward the mini-bar.

The bar was full of alcohol and reeked of bloody, poorly made margaritas. I wrinkled my nose in disgust, having never enjoyed the pungent smell of alcohol, especially not when mixed with blood. I whirled around, eyes scanning my surroundings and looking for anything that could possibly give a hint at what had happened to the humans.

"Dean," Sam whispered from down the hall. My ears pricked – they must have found them. I walked slowly around the countertop, making my way towards the sound of Sam's voice.

"There's more of them," Dean whispered back. raised my eyebrows in surprise. More humans? How many more?

The hallway was dark and lined with various doors. The smell of vampires dampened the scent of the boys. I hoped I would never have to smell another vampire after this. They smelled like an off mix of life and decay, like the sickly-sweet aroma of life could possibly mask the stench of rot. I cast a glance over my shoulder at the sleeping vamps. They didn't look to be rotting. Maybe it just came with the title of 'undead.'

Suddenly, someone screamed, a feral, rage-filled noise. I jumped and reached for my machete, drawing it from its sheath. Too late, the vampires were beginning to stir.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, grabbing his brother by the arm and dragging his brother down the hallway towards me. I waved them over, machete held high in defense.

"Go!" I shouted, ushering them past and following them. I heard a crash from behind me, like the sound of breaking glass, and John's muffled voice. Spinning on my heels, I stopped beside the door. "John, come on!" I screamed, holding my blade high as I charged back towards the hallway.

"What are you doing!?" Dean shouted as he burst through the barn doors and into the sunlight. I waved him away and raised my blade at the flock of angry vampires.

"I've got this, Dean, just go!" I shouted back, hoping he would listen and run with Sam back to the cars. The sound of footsteps pounding up the hillside told me they did. I sprinted towards the hallway and was stopped by an arm linking around my waist and throwing me backward. I snarled as I was thrown to the ground and quickly leaped to my feet.

The vampires had formed a loose circle around me, blocking the exit. A hiss drew my attention and my eyes flitted back towards the vamps, gauging me with angry, but unsure eyes. I snarled and sidestepped, taking a few steps closer to where I had heard John's voice.

A vampire lunged forward, reached to grab my arm, and drag me into the throng. I swung wildly with my blade, cutting through the bloodsucker's forearm. It hissed and lept back, clutching its arm. I snarled through gritted teeth and pounced towards the vampires blocking my route to John.

The vampires stepped back, wary looks in their eyes. I spun and swung my blade at vampires that were approaching from behind. The vampires glanced between each other and wrinkled their noses in disgust.

"You're not human," one grumbled out lowly, and I recognized him as the vampire that had driven the Camaro earlier that day. "What the hell are you?" I grimaced and bared my teeth at the vamp, hissing quietly.

I heard John shout my name as he burst out of the room, two vampires hot on his trail and a machete clutched tight in his hand. No gun. "Go!" He shouted, spinning to face the vampires with a machete in hand.

I charged forward and swung at the row of vamps blocking me from John. Those that didn't spring out of my way received deep cuts to their abdomens. I reached forward and gripped John by his coat sleeve, dragging him with me. Together, we raced towards the barn doors, a horde of vampires chasing us as we went.

Warm sunlight beat down onto our backs, and still, we didn't stop, panting as we crested the hill and the cars came into view.

"Dad!" Dean called out. "Dad, are you alright!?" John nodded and waved his son away, placing his hands on his knees and panting heavily.

"I'm fine too, thanks for asking," I sassed, slipping my machete into its sheath and leaning against the hood of the Impala.

Dean glared over his shoulder and rounded on me, a furious glare on his face. "That was stupid of you!" he shouted. "You could have been killed!"

"Lay off, Dean," John wheezed. He stood to his full height, albeit a bit shaky. "She did good," he said with a small nod in my direction. John sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "They won't follow. They'll wait till tonight. Once a vampire has your scent, it's for life."

I stiffened, my nails digging into the black chrome paint beneath my hands. Sam scowled and leaned against the car next to me. "Then what do we do now?" he asked, his voice gruff with uncertainty.

John chuckled morbidly and his eyes settled on me, a deep scowl on his worry-lined features. "You gotta find the nearest funeral home, that's what."

I groaned and placed my face in my hands. "I shouldn't have agreed to come on this stupid hunt."

[spnrareshipbang]

“Ganymede” - Monday, November 11

Author: crowleysmistress (Crowleysmistress)

Artist: @atlas-assbutt

Beta(s): l nightbreaker

Rating: Explicit

Featured characters: Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Dean, Castiel, Garth

Featured relationships: Sam Winchester/Lucifer

Length: 23302 words

Tags: past rape, trauma from the cage, sex under the influence, dub-con, vessel ownership versus free will, past torture, restraints, obsessive Lucifer, Sam winchester love potion, sam saves dean again, death eats tamales, sam loves lucifer, public dating, samifer, dean has the mark of cain, hurt sam winchester

Warnings: Rape/Non-con

Summary:  Alternate ending to Season 10 where Dean accepts Death’s offer to have himself exiled to outer space to prevent further harm from the Mark of Cain. Of course, Sam can’t let his brother go, much less when they are so close to finding the cure for the Mark of Cain. However, the only being he knows that can reach and return his brother is Lucifer. And yet, the Devil won’t offer aid for nothing in return. Though Sam thinks he has nothing left to offer that Lucifer hasn’t already taken, the Devil proves him wrong with a simple demand: he wants a public, happy dating relationship with Sam. Of course, Sam can’t give him what he wants—not after everything Lucifer’s done. However, willing to do whatever it takes for his brother, Sam decides to love potion himself in hopes of satisfying this relationship. Lucifer quickly notices but decides to try and provide experiences as only he can to finally win over his true vessel’s heart.

Excerpt:

Before Cas can update him on his findings the heavy bunker doors swing open again. They both turn to look, they are warded so the visitor who has managed to open the doors should be an expected and welcome guest. Castiel is therefore surprised when on the landing Lucifer shows up. He immediately stands in front of Sam. Opens his stance and orders Sam “Get behind me Sam.”

“Honey, I’m home!” Lucifer yells from midway down the stairs. “Always, wanted to say that. Not that I would want to live in this underground shithole. I have had enough of those for a few lifetimes.”

Behind him Castiel can feel Sam shaking his head. He draws out his angel blade.

“Woah buddy, take it easy with the heavy artillery. I come bearing gifts.” Lucifer is almost at the table.

Castiel puts his angel blade up against his jaw. “Lucifer, stop right there.”

“Sammy, call off your pet.” Lucifer’s tone is not as light any longer.

Sam pushes his chair back, it scrapes against the floor, he heaves himself up. Walks over to Castiel and puts his hand over the sword. Pushing it down. Then he takes a step towards Lucifer and asks, “What gifts?”

Lucifer grins, holds up a paper bag with the logo of the local gym. “Acai bowl, with extra almond butter.” Sam holds out his hand and Lucifer hands it over. Sam walks back to his chair. “Umm, sassy.” Lucifer laughs as he bites his lip.

Cas looks confusedly between them both. He can see Sam is not terrorized as he normally is when dealing with Lucifer. He can see the trauma is still there but shrouded and put away, and something else is taking precedence.

“Brother, what are you doing here?” he finally asks.

“Well, Sam summoned me.” Lucifer states simply.

Castiel glances over at Sam who is eating his Acai bowl while he looks at Lucifer with intensity. It makes Castiel uncomfortable. Something is wrong but he can’t articulate what.

“Lucifer is going to get Dean back,” Sam says in an almost conspiratorial tone.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Reichenbach: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: You're done with Dean and his antics. You want to leave and you're going to do whatever it takes to make him understand that he doesn't have the power here. You do.

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

Dean walks off without another word and approaches the piano in the corner of the room where the stage is. He sits down and plays some keys as if he knows what the hell he's doing. Your hand twitches because you'd love nothing more than to smack the shit out of him. Your gaze moves from him to the door behind him because it opens, and Sam steps through it.

Dean smirks because he knows he's there.

"Hiya, Sam." He turns and sees the bruises and cuts on Sam's face. "Who winged you?"

"Does it matter?"

"Not really. I told you to let me go."

"You know I can't do that. By the way, your pal Crowley sold you out."

"It sounds like him," Dean nods.

Dean gets up and faces his brother to fight him but you're quick to jump between the two men. Dean looks at you before turning his gaze to his brother.

"Dean, hold on a second. You don't have to do this. Look, we know how to cure demons. Do you remember that?"

"Little Latin and a lot of blood. It rings a bell. Did you ever stop to think that if I wanted to be cured, I wouldn't have bailed?"

"That was Crowley."

"It really wasn't," he smiles.

"It doesn't matter, alright? Whatever went down, whatever happened, we will fix it."

"Will we? Right now. I'm doing all I can not to come over there and rip your throat out with my teeth. I'm giving you a chance, Sam. You should take it."

"He's telling the truth," you say to Sam.

"I'm gonna have to pass."

"I'm not walking out that door with you. I'm just not. So, what are you gonna do? Are you gonna kill me?"

"No."

"Why? You don't know what I've done. I might have it coming."

"I don't care because you are my brother, and I'm here to take you home. Both of you."

"You're my brother, and I'm here to take you home," Dean mocks. "What is this, a Lifetime movie? With your puppy-dog eyes?" Dean laughs hard. "Oh, thanks, Sammy. I needed that."

Sam takes out a pair of sigil-etched handcuffs. Ones that will hold a demon no matter how powerful.

"You really think those are gonna work?"

"There's one way to find out."

Dean will kill his brother, and you can't have that happen. You don't care what happens to Dean and Sam, but if Dean kills Sam, then all you're gonna hear is Dean's whining when he's finally cured. You really don't want to deal with that so you turn to Sam with a glare.

"Get the hell out of here, Sam."

"No."

"I can handle Dean just fine. I don't want you here." Sam holds his ground but you're not done with him. "GO!"

For some reason, Sam trusts you. He doesn't know what's going on with you but he trusts you have some sort of plan to take down his brother. Plus, he's going to be nearby anyway so he decides not to make a scene and leave.

"Aw, you love me," Dean smirks.

"No, I just didn't want to hear you whine about your dead brother later."

You leave his side and go to the bar to order a drink while Dean goes back to playing the piano. Two ladies come up to him and flirt with him which he's into. If you're going to leave and trap him, then now's your chance. All you have to do is get back to the motel and you'll have everything you need to take down Dean once and for all.

You down two shots of the hardest liquor before grabbing your jacket. To get to the exit, you have to pass by Dean, and when you do, you lean in close so he can hear you over the music.

"I'm leaving you."

You only have a few minutes before he comes charging after you, so you have to be quick. The motel is right across the street from the bar, so you sprint to your room and slam the door open. The first thing you grab is the demon knife and stick it in your boot for later. You open your duffel bag and start throwing shit in there just to get it in.

Seconds later, the door to the room slams open and Dean is standing there with an angry look on his face.

"You're not leaving."

"Watch me," you laugh dryly. As you grab another handful of clothes, Dean grabs some from inside the bag and throws it on the bed. "Real mature."

"You're cute if you think you're actually leaving me."

"Are you really that insecure?" you ask and face him.

"Maybe if you had your magic, you'd be able to stop me. You don't, therefore, you're not leaving."

"Stop fucking bringing that up! God, you're so fucking annoying. You think you're better than everyone else because you're a Knight of Hell. Well, guess what, you're not that special. In fact, you're bottom-of-the-barrel shit that no one wants, and it's kind of pathetic to watch you act like you're not."

"Is that any way to talk to your husband?" Dean glares.

"You're not my husband," you laugh. "You stopped being my husband the second you got black eyes." You take off your wedding ring you used to love so much and throw it in the nearest trashcan. "There is nothing worse than being your wife, and I'm kind of glad I'm free from that burden."

Dean teleports to you and slams you against the wall. His right hand grabs your throat to let you know that he could crush it if he wanted to. His eyes are pitch black but that never scared you.

"I won't hesitate to kill you."

You smirk.

"You don't have the balls."

His grip on your neck gets deadly tight, and for the first time since he stole you from the Bunker, you actually think he's going to kill you. If you don't do anything right now, he is going to take your life without a second thought.

You reach down to grab the handle of the demon knife and stab him in the stomach with it. He lets go of your throat with a groan of pain. You suck in a lungful of air and shove him away from you. You take out the knife and stab him in the chest. This time, you leave it in there. Dean gasps in pain and falls to his knees, giving you the opportunity to escape.

You grab your gun, your phone, and your wallet. Everything else can be replaced easily. You're not sure where you're going to go but you need to get the hell away from him. The parking lot is nearly empty but you run toward the street as fast as you can. Maybe you can hitch a ride with someone if you can get there in time.

You look back at the room to check on Dean while still running but you don't see him there. When you turn back, you run right into his chest. You back up and aim your gun at him, but all he does is smirk.

"If the demon knife didn't kill me, what makes you think a gun will?"

"A gun with special bullets might," you smirk.

You shoot him once in the shoulder but it doesn't cause him any pain. All he does is look down at the wound in curiosity.

"I really do think humans are the dumbest creatures on Earth."

He goes to take a step toward but it's like he's frozen in place. He can't even move his arms. He's stuck there and a mocking smile appears on your face.

"You were saying? Devil-trap bullets really come in handy when you're dealing with demons. You can thank your granddaddy for this one. You're not so tough now, are you?"

Seeing him try to move makes you laugh.

"I'm gonna kill you."

"Yeah, okay. Don't hurt yourself trying. You know what's funny? Knights of Hell are supposed to be badass and fearful. Cain is one scary dude. Abaddon might have been an asshole but at least she knew what to do with her power. You? You're failing at something that's supposed to come naturally to you." Dean is seething with anger but you won't let him go easily. "It makes sense, actually."

"What does?"

"Why you're such a shitty demon. You were a shitty human, a shitty husband, and a shitty father. I've always been the better parent. I see now why our kids have disappeared. I bet they're happier wherever they may be because they don't have you to watch over them."

"Like you're so much better," he spits.

"Oh, I am. Do you know why? I never had John as a father. Talk about being shitty," you scoff. "I guess it's genetic." You turn to leave but aim your gun at his leg and pull the trigger. "One more for good measure."

You toss the gun to the side and leave him to stand there on his own. It's not hard to find Sam since he needed to stick around for whatever you were gonna do to tame Dean. He's outside the bar with Crowley, and even though they were across the street the whole time, they didn't hear or see anything.

"If you want Dean, you can have him," you say. "He's stuck in the motel parking lot."

"How?" Sam asks.

"Devil-trap bullets. Two of them, in fact."

You lead the two men back to the motel where Dean is. He has a much deadlier glare on his face which you ignore. Sam takes his wrists and cuffs them knowing it will hold him once the bullets are removed. You walk to the front of him and dig your fingers into his wounds to take the bullets out.

You make sure to make it hurt.

Sam places Dean in the back of the Impala while you gather your things from the motel. You pass by the trashcan and notice your shiny diamond ring still sitting there. Without thinking about it, you grab it and place it in a small pocket of Dean's duffel bag.

Once he's cured, he's going to find it in there. Maybe your point will come across then. Sam has the First Blade in his hands since he's considering giving it to Crowley for safekeeping.

"Pleasure doing business."

"What are you gonna do with it?" you ask and toss your bags into the back seat.

"Toss it into a volcano or leave it on the Moon. I'll get creative. Believe me, I don't want you or Dean getting your hands on this any more than Sam does." He turns to Sam. "Your brother knows I ratted. He tends to hold a grudge. I don't want to get boned."

"This doesn't make us square," Sam says and hands over the Blade. "If I see you again--"

"Oh, stop it, Samantha. No one likes a tease."

Seconds later, Crowley disappears from sight.

"Well, this has been eventful."

You two pile into the front seat and Sam starts the journey back home. One of the things Dean didn't do is keep his car neat and clean like he has since he was eighteen. It's filled with fast food wrappers, a few condoms, empty drink bottles, and other trash.

"This thing is filthy."

"It's just a car, Sam."

"Just a car? Wow. You really have gone dark."

"You have no idea," Dean chuckles.

"You claim to be a big bad demon who's strong and smart," you say and turn to face Dean, "but look where you are. You got outsmarted by a human. How does that make you feel?"

"Don't poke the bear, Y/N."

"Oh, I'm not worried. He doesn't scare me," you smirk and keep eye contact with Dean.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[rainysofsunshineao3]

Predictions for whatever the hell is going on with Yaz and Sammy in JWCT

Before it airs tmr on GODDAMN ROBLOX. I've never loved and hated that game so much XDDD

So it does seem like something's going on between them whether it's related to Yaz' PTSD, the fact that she's at college, or because Sammy now has integrated dinosaurs into their daily life (Which loops back to Yaz' PTSD) and it seems kinda weird to me that most of the theories that I've heard have been Yaz-centric, or with Yaz as the larger reason their growing apart.

Maybe not weird but definitely interesting.

1. Because honestly, I can see that if they ever were to break up (I swear to god I'm murdering someone if they do tho) it would be Yaz who ends up doing it. I just can't see Sammy willingly ending things.

2. Because that's somewhat of the problem. Like, JWCC gave Sammy the bare minimum of character and plot development, most of it happening in season 1-2 with her whole "I'm a spy" deal. After that, she sort of just...stays the same. She doesn't have the same amount of development as Ben or Yaz or even Kenji. She's the most consistent character in the series and I'm not sure if that was done on purpose - like, the writers saying "ok, we have 5 really good or decent character arcs, let's have this one stay the same so there's diversity in not having change" - or they just didn't have time to really develop her character outside of the "Looks like a cinnimonroll but could actually kill you"

So something I'd like to see is Sammy having a bit more of a voice than she did in JWCC and I think the writers knew that was a problem and seem to have made her part of the main trio (Darius, Ben, and Sammy) for JWCT.

I made a previous post about the *tension* everyone seemed to get in the most recent clip > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8HQffL_R1F4

in which Ben and Sammy go to visit Yaz at her university.

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE that they're diving more into Yaz' PTSD that we get a glimpse of in Seasons 4-5 of CC. She seems like she's doing better and actually trying to help out others who struggled with the same things that she did which is cool.

And then we have this scene =>

And it's cute and Sammy and Ben look fine af and there are so many amazing things about this clip but like...

Sammy's not coming to Yaz' defense, like, at all.

Like, Yaz' thing isn't working and I feel like CC Sammy would have said something like "That's a really cool view!" or "Coool...?" or even like "That's...awesome Yaz!" in her wtf-is-this-but-ima-be-positive-anyway and maybe it's the writers doing what I mentioned before and giving Sammy a deeper personality and the change in demeanor is small enough that it might just be me overspeculating, but there's tension there.

And pair that with the fact that Ben says "Get in-between two girlfriends?" Like, are they arguing?! Sammy's trying to get him to choose sides? Am I getting that right?

*Cough* I mean, though, Ben would probably choose Yaz ngl, they besties. No hate on Sammy but *Cough*

Sorry, what was I saying 😅

And the line right before that when Sammy says "Ben, help me out here!" Makes me think that Sammy has been trying to get Yaz to stop obsessing over this hologram thing for a while, and maybe the only reason they came to the university was to get her to stop her research and come with them since I'm assuming this is maybe when Darius is picking up the rest of the gang. Again, I could be wrong, but that's personally what I think.

Speaking of the picking up of the campers, I love how most of us collectively agreed that the order was Sammy Kenji Yaz. That was just funny to me :)

Anyway, does that mean Yaz is just living at the University doing her hologram shit and Sammy has been trying to convince her to just come home? Cause that would be so incredibly sweet and terribly sad at the same time, like, c'mon :(((

And now there's dinosaurs chasing them again and everyone thinks Brooklyn is dead and now it's not a matter of "I miss you" but "It's not safe anymore"?

God, this show has so much potential how tf am I so invested in animated characters.

This post ended up being way longer than I anticipated so Ima end it here <333

Toodles!

[boywifesammy]

i think sam and dean’s relationship with sex in the early seasons is so interesting because it’s so vastly different yet both indicative of abuse.

dean sees his body as an object; a weapon, a tool. he has no say in his own life. he thinks he’s just alive to serve his purpose. he buzzes his hair military short and dresses just like his father to gain his approval, while john always treated dean as a means to an end. he was told to take care of sammy, and dragged along to hunts, and given orders like he was nothing but a robot. if sam got hurt, it was his fault. if he got hurt, he wasn’t fast enough. he’s taught to put himself in harms way constantly, that his body is worth nothing, that a few more scars mean nothing if he obeys his order. daddy’s blunt little instrument indeed.

dean is comfortable in his own body because he doesn’t place value on his own life. it’s why he’s so nonchalant about sex. he’s using his body to make himself feel good, and make others feel good, so he doesn’t see the problem. sam teases him about being a horndog but dean genuinely doesn’t care about what happens to him. it’s not just with sex. he constantly sacrifices himself, he’ll put himself in harms way instantly if it means saving someone he loves. he complains about his physical appearance but never once hesitates to disfigure it if it means someone else will be saved the misfortune.

sam, on the other hand, has a different understanding of his body. he doesn’t fit inside of it. his entire life, he’s been the odd one out, the wrong one, the one who just couldn’t conform. he fights with his father about hunting. he has demon blood in him. he’s lucifer’s vessel. he’s an abomination, he’s damned, his very flesh and blood is something rotten. he doesn’t see any purpose in his existence so he tries to find value in his body, because he doesn’t think there’s anything of value in his soul.

this isn’t even mentioning sam’s past with manipulation. both dean and john most definitely manipulated sam in the past, even if it was from a place of good will to keep him safe. john lied about mary’s deal his entire life. dean keeps plenty of secrets, like the demon deal and john’s last words, under the guise that it would hurt sam. sam’s entire life was a lie, all a buildup to the apocalypse. the first woman he ever loved died on the ceiling just like his mother, and he was convinced it was his fault both times. sam has been taught that he hurts everyone he loves. that’s he’s intrinsically dangerous and he curses the people close to him to suffering, or death, or worse.

sam has a difficult relationship with sex because he’s scared. scared to trust someone with something so intimate and scared that he’ll infect them with whatever awful thing is inside of him. this is why ruby’s arc is so heartbreaking. dean can immediately recognize that sam is being taken advantage of. he has a very black and white understanding of who is good and trustworthy vs who is evil and a monster. sam, on the other hand, knows that it isn’t so cut and dry. he still loves dean, even though he isn’t always the best to him. he still cares for his dad, even if he wants sam dead. he still wants to believe in a higher power, even though he’s cursed. so of course sam trusted ruby. he’s an abuse victim. he’s vulnerable. he was at his wits end, and ruby took that to her advantage. she victim blamed him. gaslit him. took advantage of his need for emotional intimacy and sexually assaulted him.

dean can’t understand sam’s aversion to sex because he sees it as a purely materialistic thing, and his body a mere object. his relationship with romance is so horribly warped. dean doesn’t care about being taken advantage of, because his whole life his father’s taken advantage of his obedience. he’s just a means to end. it doesn’t matter what happens to his body, because he doesn’t matter anyway.

sam can’t understand dean’s hypersexuality because he’s hyperfixated on having control of himself. he desperately wants to regain some sense of ownership of his body. he hates intimacy because it opens him up to vulnerability. to him, his body is diseased, and it’s a danger to anyone who he’s intimate with.

dean sees sex as self-hating pleasure, a way to be useful. sam sees sex as self-hating punishment. in a certain way, they’re more similar than the show makes them out to be.

[alanaartdream]

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After reading the Danny Phantom a glitch in time I was in the mood to try to sketch Danny with his Friends Tucker and Sam

And then being as yeah Sam and Tucker did get to join Danny in the nicktoons unite game (heck you can play as Sam in the 2nd game witch is the island game as well as in the toy bots one that came after that ) so they did meet Timmy Turner so had to draw that in

And then had to draw my Fairy Timmy with the nicktoons talking with Sam being as he has met them in the games

Now for years I’ve seen maybe 1-2 artists keep the nicktoons unite fandom alive but most of the time the focus was only on the 1st game not on the other 3 in the series so didn’t see and Sam or Tucker getting added into the lineup (witch is a crying shame because Sam was quite awesome in the games; you could even play as her in at least 2 of the games (not sure about the globs of doom one where they took Timmy Turner out and had invader zim & dib as well as some villains join the team in that one; but then Timmy could and would’ve wished them out of trouble like he does for Jimmy Timmy power hour episodes so the game development team must of not wanting to deal with that tricky story plot )

Like now they’re adding in Jenny XJ9 from my teenage robot life and El Tigre tiger boy but forget to add in Sam and Tucker???

Heck Sammy squirrel; Patrick Sat and Squidward were apart of the Nicktoons unite team up for a lot of the games (also didn’t help that nicktoons started to focus more on SpongeBob Square pants more by the last of the games)

Think you could play as Sammy squirrel in the games too

But then maybe their version of nicktoons unite games aus they like to make Danny have darker life or less supportive friends/ family so maybe that’s why they don’t add them but are adding in Jenny Xj9 and tiger boy before adding in any of Danny’s friends and SpongeBob’s friends or they didn’t know the others games?

Enithr way the games have a order to them apparently (I didn’t know what the order was until some YouTube/ google searches later)

So probably just lack of information as to why it’s this way (( I mean I don’t wanna stop people having their own takes on things I love when people are creative and do their own things))

Just seems odd to not add the other characters that made it into the team or how tragic they make Danny’s life seem in their aus when honestly Danny got a very good supporting network of friends/ family & allies who helps him deal with ghosts and being half ghost (in fact he’s a bit of a adorable dork not really something I’d say is depressing gloomy or something tragic in their life)

Making me think they mixed Timmy turner’s tragic life story with Danny’s being as Danny’s the ghost boy with ghost powers they want to make him tragic when really Timmy’s one with only Wanda Cosmo poof/peri and Fairy world to help him deal with his crazy dumb neglectful parents who forget to feed him and leave him with a abusing awful babysitter; don’t really care to teach him anything and don’t care he’s dealing with awful bullies and a crazy teacher who just wants to fail him all the time to get at his fairies AND he’s only 10 years old and has to deal with all of that without any support whatsoever (if he didn’t have fairies/wanda Cosmo & poof) he’d be a dead ghost child Danny & his friends might’ve had to deal with honestly

Heck because they both been created by butch jerkman the creator once said he was planning on making them cousins (like distant cousins) at one point but gave up on the idea witch probably explains why they do look a little alike

So like Danny has a lot to deal with with the ghost and his own school bullies but his family & friends love and support him

Heck like Jimmy Danny with help of his friend Tucker & Sam after all the ghosts they’re dealing with and how emotion is a driving force for ghosts in his world would pick up Timmy only acts snarky/ sassy to protect himself and is honestly a pretty good kid his life back in his world is pretty bad any nicktoons character who’s life might be a little like Timmy’s is maybe Dib’s from invader Zim but the movie changed how Dib’s father is like (if you’d seen the invader Zim’s cartoon show boy dib has some pretty dark moments and thankfully the show doesn’t gloss over those dark moments like fairly odd parents original show use to like to do )

I mean probably overthinking things here it’s just my opinion after looking into things more and enjoying the shows and stuff

Because lately where I use to love how those artist been keeping nicktoons unite fandom going for such a long time; it’s as I go back and enjoy Danny phantom/ fairly odd parents and the nicktoons unite games that it feels like the characterising of these characters feels a bit off now

It’s still good just something is missing or don’t match up

[bingbongsupremacy]

Bullies

Pairing: Brother Dean and Brother Sam x Platonic!younger sister reader

Warnings: Very cringe and short. I wrote this when I was in middle school. Originally from Wattpad.

Summary: Your older brothers come to your rescue when they discover you've been dealing with bullies.

*Not Proof Read* Supernatural

******

Girl Reader's P.O.V.

" Look who it is, the girl with no friends. What's her name again? Winpester or something? " Lucinda Mills, one of the meanest people on earth snickers with her friends as I walk past her.

I keep my head down, hoping she'll leave me alone. I've only been here a few days, but she decided to make my life miserable. Dad and the boys have been trying to track down a nest in the local area, but they're having a tough time finding it. The longer they take trying to find where the nest is, the longer I have to stay here at this school. I don't want to be here any longer.

I'm all alone in this new school. I haven't made any friends, not that I'd be able to keep in contact with them if I did. We move around way too much for me to be able to keep friends for long.

Sammy's in the high school that's a few blocks away and Dean doesn't go to school anymore, so I'm all alone in this middle school. I wish I was older and able to go to school with Sammy or help hunt with Dean and Dad. I just have to get through this day.

" Hey, Winwhatever, come here. " Lucinda orders.

I try walking away and pretending I didn't hear Lucinda, but she walks up behind me and yanks my arm back.

" Look at me when I'm talking to you! If I tell you to do something, do it! " Lucinda yells, attracting unwanted attention.

I blush ferociously and look down at my feet. It's the end of school. I've had a long day, all I want to do is go to the motel and hang out with Sammy and Dean. " What do you want? " I ask nervously.

" Look at me. "

I hesitantly look up at Lucinda.

"Oops. " Lucinda ' accidentally ' bumps very hard into me. I lose my balance since I'm on the school curb and drop my binder onto the ground. My study flashcards fall to the ground and land in a muddy puddle. All the loose papers I had in my hands started blowing away in the small gusts of wind. " Pick everything up. Now. " Lucinda leans back on her heels and folds her arms as she nods for me to pick up all my dropped papers.

I nod stiffly and rush to pick up all my spilled work. I grab everything, but mostly all of my papers and flashcards are either sopping wet or crinkled.

" Looks like she obeys, that's good. Hmm, I like your jacket. " Lucinda says as I walk back to her. She pulls at the black jacket that Dean gave me earlier this week. " Give it to me. "

This entire time I've been silent and doing everything Lucinda says. I don't want to give up my jacket! No! " N-no. " I say sternly but shakily. I won't let her have my jacket.

" What was that you little pest? Did you say no to me? Did I hear that right, girls? " Lucinda asks her squad.

" Ooh, you heard that right, Luc. This brat doesn't want to listen. " Makenzie shakes her head at me.

" I thought I did. " Lucinda moves towards me. " I said, give me your jacket! " She orders.

" N-no! " I shake my head. " No. You can't have this jacket. No. " I stubbornly look up at Lucinda.

" Fine. I guess I'll have to take it then. " Lucinda pushes me back and I fall onto the hard, wet concrete. She rips my binder out of my hands and tosses it to the side. Her friends hold me down as she tears my jacket away from me. She picks my binder up again and drops it onto my lap. Her friends abandon me and stand back. While holding me down, they also messed up my hair and smeared mud onto my neck and face. I look terrible. I feel terrible. I just want to go home.

" You see what happens when you don't listen? Next time, it will be much much worse. " Lucinda warns as she looks at my jacket. She pulls a piece of leaf off the sleeve and tosses it to the ground. She puts on my jacket and turns around to show off to her friends. " Doesn't it look way better on me? Oh, I can't bear to see such good clothing wasted on losers like Y/n "

I wipe a stray tear that falls down my cheek. Why does this have to happen to me?

She glares down at me, a cruel smirk growing on her face. " Don't cry, you big baby. " She looks down at my binder. There's a stack of papers that are stapled together in the front pocket. " What do you have right here? Your paper is done? Wow, " Lucinda snatches my school paper on baseball player, Toni Stone, and flips through the pages. " you got that done fast. Hmm, I like it. I think I'll take it from you. " Lucinda starts ripping up my paper painfully slow. It was handwritten because I worked on it during study time and lunch...I was going to go home and transfer it to my computer...now I have to do it all over again! Lucinda drops the large pieces of my paper onto the ground. " Oops. What a shame. Such hard work...oh well. " Lucinda smirks.

" Hey! You! " My head snaps around when I hear Sam yell. Same never yells. He's usually the calm brother.

I see Lucinda's eyes widen. Her friends start mumbling about how cute my brothers are as they angrily walk towards us from across the street where Dad's Impala is parked.

" What do you think you're doing? " Dean asks Lucinda with a dark glare as the boys get closer.

" Um, nothing. Who are you? " Lucinda asks.

" It doesn't look like nothing. It looks like you're bullying my little sister. " Sam wraps an arm around my shoulders after helping me up.

" Y-you're related to Y/n? " Lucinda asks. Her eyes are glued to Sam.

I raise an eyebrow and shove my hands into my pockets because they're cold.

" Yeah. " Dean says in a ' duh ' tone. " She's our sister, as Sam said like three seconds ago, kid. Now, we've been here a few minutes, and we've seen what you've been doing. Let me tell you this, I don't like it. You don't get to mess with innocent little girls and get away with it, you hear me? " Dean spits.

" Um, we were just messing around? " Lucinda asks more than says.

" Were you? Really? Because messing around doesn't look like you shoving down Y/n, having your goons hold her down, and then ripping off her jacket. No. You were harassing and hurting our little sister. " Dean turns to Sam. " Now, I'm not tripping, right? This punk was messing with Y/n, right? "

" Yes, she was. " Sam nods in agreement.

" Y/n, what's this kid's name? Huh? " Dean asks while looking down at her threateningly.

" Lucinda. " I reply quietly.

" Okay, Lukillma or whatever, pick up the papers you so ruthlessly dropped. " Sam gestures to my torn-apart paper lying on the ground.

" W-what? " Lucinda asks.

" Pick up the papers. I mean, since you were the one who threw them on the ground, it's only reasonable that you pick them up. " Sammy replies innocently.

Lucinda looks like she's about to protest but she listens and embarrassedly picks up my torn-up paper.

" Now give it to me, please. Lukarmakiller. " Dean holds out his hand for the papers.

" Um, okay? " Lucinda hands the papers over to Dean.

" Look here kid, I don't want you messing with my sister, or taking any of her things ever again. If I find out you're giving Y/n any trouble, any trouble at all, even bumping into her on accident, I will turn your life into a living nightmare. Okay? You got that? That goes for all, " Dean gestures to every kid in the courtyard as he speaks. " of you. Every last one of you. I don't care if you accidentally drop one of Y/n's pencils, I will make your life terrible. Sammy, " Dean pats Sam's shoulder. " and I will make your life terrible. You got that? "

No one moves or speaks.

" Do you understand?! " Dean asks louder.

Mumbles, stiff, 'yes's' come from all of the kids.

" Good, now, I see you still have Y/n's jacket. " Sam says while eyeing my jacket that's still on Lucinda.

" H-here. " Lucinda tries to quickly take off the jacket but Dean stops her.

" No, we'll get N/N a new one. We don't want her catching anything from...what's your name again? Lucrazima? Lunightmare? Whatever, well, we don't want Y/n catching fleas or rabies or something. " Dean shakes his head.

Sam rolls his eyes. " You get rabies from a bite, not from sharing a jacket. " Sam points out.

" You know what I mean. Who knows what these kids carry around with them these days? " Dean points at Lucinda who blushes again. " We don't want Y/n to catch anything that could hurt her. Now, we've spent enough time here. Let's get going kids. "

I blush at my brothers' words.

" Yeah, c'mon Y/n. " Sam keeps his arm around my shoulder as he walks with me towards the Impala. Dean tosses my backpack and binder into the back of the Impala.

I look out the window after bucking up. All the kids are watching us, waiting to see what happens. Lucinda is dying in embarrassment.

" Why didn't you tell us that brat was messing with you? " Sam asks.

I shrug.

" Don't shut us out now, Y/n. That isn't how this is going to work. No. You need to tell us whenever those punks mess with you. Every time. We will make whoever hurts you, pay. I promise. " Dean glances back at me in the rearview mirror.

" I didn't want to...to bug you guys. You're busy looking for that nest, and I didn't want to bring you into my school problems. It was no big deal, I-I was doing fine by myself with those kids. " I mumble. I've always been a shy and quiet girl. I tend to be shyer and quieter when I get in trouble though.

" Look, you're not in trouble, kiddo. You just...I want you to tell us when kids are messing with you. That's not okay. Your problems are our problems. When one Winchester is messed with, all Winchesters are messed with. " Dean parks outside of a gas station/restaurant. " Will you tell us the next time someone's hurting you? Please? "

" Yeah..." I nod without looking away from my hands.

" Look me in the eyes and promise, Y/n. " Sam turns to me as he talks.

I sigh and look up at my brother. " Fine. I promise, Sam. I promise Dean. "

" Good. I love you, N/N. " Sam smiles.

" I love you guys too. " I smile. It's nice to see that the boys stood up for me. They didn't stand by and watch as I got bullied. They stood up for me even though I didn't ask them.

I love my brothers, and I don't know what I would do without them.

" Who wants some pie? " 

[artyandink]

we could be more | dean winchester | finale

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE: PART TWO

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : DARKSIDE - NEONI 

“Mini-“ 

“I don’t want to hear it.” I whispered, staring out into the unknown from the front porch of the house we’d taken rest in. “I just don’t.”

Bobby sighed. “You can’t blame yourself for Sam.” 

“I can. I was there. I could’ve killed Jake seconds before it happened had I just let go for a second like I did with Ava. And now? Sam’s dead.”

”You’re deranged, mini. You’ve done the best you can and considering the circumstances, you did a damn good job of it.” 

“Everyone’s dead except that kid Jake who deserves to be ripped limb by limb.” I growled, standing up. “I know I’m gonna see him again. And when I do? Hell, I’m gonna kill him. And I’ll make sure he regrets living before he goes into the fire.” 

“Hey!” He frowned. “Don’t lose yourself in this.” 

“I lost myself in hell, Bobby, I’m long gone.” I seethed. “Every gash, the torture, the watching others being tortured- it eats away at you. Tears you a new one. A worse one, and I loathe how I turned out. I can’t look at my family the same after learning what kind of a man I was born from. What my sister became- heck, what my brother could’ve been. It’s pure pain. Sam was… an out. An amazing, kind, caring out. A way to think about what relationship I could have had with my siblings if they were alive. Now Sam’s dead. I’ve lost that too. That means I’ve lost my fight.” 

“I know you must be feeling helpless.” Bobby appeased, giving me a sympathetic look. “Feel it, feel it all if you can’t help it, but Dean in there? He needs you more than ever.” He started to walk off, but I held his shoulder. 

“Where’re you going?” 

“Dean doesn’t need me anymore. He told me to leave, but you know where I’ll be.” 

“C’mere.” I hugged him tightly, and he allowed me to, thumping my back. 

“You’re a strong kid, mini. It’s not your fault your dad was a coward.” 

“It never will be.” I smiled, then watch him leave. I walked into the house, finding Dean at Sam’s bed. 

“Don’t tell me to bury him.” Dean snapped, his voice breaking. “Don’t tell me to torch him either.”

“I won’t.” I shrugged, sitting down beside him. 

“Then? It was bad enough losing you at first, now Sammy? What are they gonna do, gank Bobby next?” 

“The kid won’t, but Yellow Eyes might.” 

“What d’you mean?” 

“He came to me.” I muttered. “Told me that this was a survival of the fittest deal. Then he said I wasn’t in it.” 

“Son of a… why weren’t you?” 

“He said that I’d rip each and every one of them apart if I wanted to. And god, I wish I’d ripped Jake limb from limb if I’d gotten the chance.” 

“Is that really Ivy talking?” He stood up, and so did I, holding my head. 

“It’s 100% me, Dean. I, cold blooded, shot Ava. I didn’t care about Lily and I was about to deliver a finishing blow to Jake with a metal pole but somehow I decided against it. Hell changed me. I don’t know what happened in there, but it changed me. Sam’s dead, I know, and all that’s replaying in my head is how Carter died and how I could’ve stopped that too but I was too damn weak to, and now Sam took a blow because of pure fate. Don’t let all this change you. Don’t do anything stupid, Dean, please just don’t.” 

“I won’t.” He agreed, and then he hugged me, detaching and leaning his forehead on mine, cupping my cheeks. “I won’t.” 

I walked in to find Dean prepping to go somewhere, and… Sam. 

Sam.

Alive. 

“Where we going, boys?” I asked, giving Dean a look. I know what you’ve done. 

“Bobby’s.” Sam smiled. 

“It’s great to have you up and about, Sam.” 

“Great to be up and about.” 

“To the Impala, then.” We went to the car, getting in and driving down to Bobby’s in silence. We went to the door, and Bobby opened it, his eyes widening a bit when he saw Sam. 

“Hey, Bobby.” Sam grinned.

“Sam. It's good to... see you up and around.” 

“Yeah ... thanks for patching me up.” 

“Don’t mention it.” Bobby then turned to me, patting me on the shoulder. “James knows you’re alive, but…” 

“I know.” I nodded. 

“Do what you’ve gotta do.” I took out my phone, dialling James. He picked up immediately on the other line, and I sighed. 

‘Ivy?’ 

“Yeah, it’s me.” 

‘You’re alive. Bobby was right. I-I thought that you…’ 

“I’m alive, yeah. My dad made a deal with a demon to save me.” I then bit my lip. “But now I’m involved in something big. End of the world big, and you need to be safe.” Bobby handed me a map of omens, and I spotted Southern Wyoming as a safe place. “Get to Southern Wyoming. Hide, take as much salt, holy water, iron, the works, as you can. Just get to safety.”

I could hear a sigh on another line. ‘We can’t see each other anymore, can we?’ 

“No, we can’t. At least, not until all this is over, which will take a hell of a long time.” 

‘I get it. At least I’ll know that my ex-girlfriend helped stop an apocalypse.’ 

“Stew in that, Lieutenant.” 

‘Gladly.’ He chuckled. ‘I’ll miss you, Ivonne Rainer.’ 

“As will I, James Rhodes.” I smiled. “Bye.”

’Bye.’ I then turned to Bobby. 

“What am I looking at?” 

“Omens are popping up everywhere.” He grimaced. “Everywhere but Southern Wyoming. It’s like demons are surrounding it or something. I need you and Sam to find out why while I chat with Dean.” 

“You better, before I give him an early ticket.” I gritted my teeth, then nodded. “I’ll do it. Figure something out.” 

I was mapping things out when Ellen came in with Dean and Bobby, and I breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Ellen.” I grinned, hugging her, and she returned it, trembling. “I’m glad you’re ok.” 

“I’m glad you’re alive.” She retorted. “I’m sorry about Mick.”

”He was better off dead.” I huffed before pulling up a chair. Ellen sat down, and Bobby poured her a shot of holy water. 

“Bobby, is this really necessary?” 

“Just holy water.” Bobby shrugged. “Shouldn’t hurt.” 

She swallowed the water, giving Bobby a look. “Whiskey now, if you don't mind.” 

I passed her a shot of whiskey, and Dean sat down, leaning forward. “Ellen, what happened?” 

“I wasn't supposed to get out. I was supposed to be in there with everybody else. But we ran out of pretzels, of all things. It was just dumb luck.” She sipped the whiskey with a scoff. “Anyway, that's when Ash called. Panic in his voice. He told me to look in the safe. Then the call cut out. By the time I got back, the flames were sky-high. And everybody was dead. I couldn't have been gone more than fifteen minutes.” 

“I’m sorry, Ellen.” Sam grimaced. 

“A lot of good people died in there. And I got to live.” She scoffed again. “Lucky me.” 

“Ellen, you mentioned a safe.” Bobby frowned. 

“Secret safe in the basement.” 

“Demons get what’s in it?” 

“No.” She put down a map, which had Xs on it. I picked it up, studied it for a second and then took a book out of my satchel, turning the pages. 

“Friggin’ hell.” I muttered, drawing a line connecting the Xs. 

“What?” Dean asked. 

“Each of these X's is an abandoned frontier church— all mid-19th century. And all of them built by Samuel Colt.” 

“Samuel Colt? Demon killing, gun making Samuel Colt?” 

“Yep. And from church to church, he built underground, hidden railway tracks, connecting every dot until…” I grinned, “he made a 100 mile Devil’s Trap.” 

“Beanie, you genius.”

”I've never heard of anything that massive.” Ellen breathed. 

“No one has.” Bobby shrugged. 

“And after all these years none of the lines are broken?” Dean asked. “I mean, it still works?”

”Looks like it.” I nodded. “Demon omens are circling this place. They’re trying to get in, but can’t.” 

“Why’re they trying to get in?” Ellen frowned. 

“Bang in the middle of this place, there’s an old, abandoned cowboy cemetery.” I pointed to it on the map, then looked up grimly. “I don’t think Colt was trying to keep anything out. I think he was trying to keep something in.” 

“Well, that’s comforting.” 

“Could they get in?” Dean asked. 

“No.” I shook my head. “They’d need something as powerful as an A-bomb, H-bomb, heck, even the Tsar Bomba could work.” 

“The Tsar What-A?” 

“Nuclear bomb made by the Soviets. Still the most powerful nuclear weapon to exist. Only something roughly like that could rip this apart. Unless you make someone who’s not a demon cross the line.” 

Then it hit me. 

“Jake.”

“Howdy, Jake.” Sam seethed, all of us surrounding him as he approached the crypt. Jake looked stunned, and I knew why. 

“Wait... you were dead. I killed you.” He stammered, but Sam chuckled. 

“Yeah? Well next time, finish the job.” 

“I did! I cut clean through your spinal cord, man. You can’t be alive, you just can’t.” 

“Okay, just take it real easy there, son.” Bobby warned. 

“And if I don’t?” 

“Wait and see.” Sam smirked. 

“What, you a tough guy all of a sudden? What are you gonna do— kill me?” 

“It’s a thought.” 

“You had your chance. You couldn't.” 

“Alright, then.” Sam nodded tauntingly. “It isn’t my mojo. But it’s hers.” He inclined his head towards me, and Jake spun around, seeing my eyes glow blue. 

“You’re not gonna lift anything.” He smirked, then turned to Ellen. “Hey lady, do me a favour. Put that gun to your head.” Ellen shakily agreed, putting the gun to her head. “See, that Ava girl was right. Once you give in to it, there's all sorts of new Jedi mind tricks you can learn.” 

“Let her go.” I demanded. 

“Kill him.” Ellen whispered. 

“You'll be mopping up skull before you get a shot off.” Jake taunted. “Everybody, put your guns down. Except you, sweetheart.” Everyone but me and Ellen put their guns down, me because Jake most likely didn’t know I had one. “Okay. Thank you.” He turned around, pulling out the Colt and putting it into the crypt. I immediately pulled the gun away from Ellen’s head, my eyes turning red as I held out my hand, my powers dragging Jake to me so I could hold him by the neck, rage surging through me like it was addictive. 

“Which way do you wanna go, huh?” I sneered, tilting my head with a grin. “I could switch off your brain, rip your guts out, but no, that’s too quick for you. I have a better idea.” I reached out, putting my fingertips around his heart. He started twitching, graining is pain as I retracted my hand, red wisps of energy following and slowly feeding small tendrils into what formed into his heart, pulsing, still beating. 

“Please.” Jake whispered. “Don’t do this, please.”

“Do it.” Sam snarled. “Kill him.”

“You’d rip them apart.” 

And I want to. 

“Please-“ I snapped my fist shut, bursting the heart and killing Jake, his body going limp as his head lolled forwards. I threw him down onto the ground without a second thought, my eyes returning to their normal colour. 

“Beanie?” Dean spoke up. “That you?” 

“Who else?” I snapped, staring down at Jake’s body before stepping over it. The two runes on the crypt spun in different directions before stopping, and a sense of apprehension immediately took over me. 

“Oh, no.” Bobby whispered. 

“What is it?” Ellen asked. 

“Hell.” Dean pulled the Colt from the crypt, and we all stepped back as we heard a lock click. “Take cover— now!” We dived behind headstones right as a door burst open, clouds of black smoke flying everywhere. 

“What the hell just happened?!” Dean groaned, taking cover next to me. 

“That’s a Devil’s gate!” I yelled. “A damn door to hell!” 

“Come on! We gotta shut that gate!” Ellen cried out. 

“If the demon gave this to Jake…” Dean muttered, fiddling with the Colt, then maybe-“ The gun flew out of his hand and landed in Yellow Eyes’, who smirked. 

“Boys shouldn’t play with Daddy’s guns.” He sneered, throwing Dean aside. Then he turned to me, chuckling. “I knew putting you in the game would be unfair. Poor Jakey didn't stand a chance. And now his heart's gone." 

“Shut up.” 

“I’m gonna make you in the meantime.” He forced Sam and I against trees, shrugging at Sam. “I'll get to you in a minute, champ. But I'm proud of you— knew you had it in you.” Then he faced Dean, throwing him against a post. “Sit a spell. So, Dean... I gotta thank you. You see, demons can't resurrect people, unless a deal is made. I know, red tape- it'll make you nuts. But thanks to you, Sammy's back in rotation. Now, I wasn't counting on that, but I'm glad. I liked him better than Jake, anyhow. Tell me— have you ever heard the expression, ‘If a deal sounds too good to be true, it probably is?’” 

“You call that deal good?” Dean scoffed.

“Well, it's a better shake than your dad ever got. Michael never got a good one either. And you never wondered why? I'm surprised at you. I mean... you saw what your dear Ivy just did to Jake, right? That was pretty cold, wasn't it? How certain are you that what you brought back, is 100%, pure, Sam? After all, Beanie came back a changed badass, didn’t she?“ He chuckled. “You of all people should know, that's what's dead, should stay dead. Anyway... thanks a bunch. I knew I kept you alive for some reason. Until now, anyway. I couldn't have done it without your pathetic, self-loathing, self-destructive desire to sacrifice yourself for your family.” He pointed the Colt at Dean, but I saw the ghost of John Winchester creeping up behind him. And he wasn’t alone. 

Carter’s ghost was with him. 

They grabbed a hold of Yellow Eyes, making him drop the Colt. I broke free from his telekinesis with a burst of blue light, picking up the Colt and aiming it at him. 

“I shot the wrong guy with this when I first used it.” I seethed. “Not this time.” I fired, and it hit him right in the heart. I ignored the falling body, instead turning to Carter, who I realised I was walking towards. He gave me a smile and joyful salute, and I did the same, wiping a tear from my cheek as he disappeared with a white light. 

When we got to a motel, before we went inside, I took Dean by the arm, smiling at Sam like nothing was wrong. “You go in with the others, Sam, we’ll catch up.” 

“Ok.” Sam nodded awkwardly, then headed inside with Ellen and Bobby, both of whom nodded in a way that said ‘give him hell.’ 

And hell I gave him. 

The moment he was inside, I spun Dean to face me and decked him in the jaw, making him hold it with a groan. 

“Again?!” He hissed, but I didn’t care. 

“You did it, didn’t you?” I fumed, and he looked startled. 

“Wh-“ 

“Don’t you dare ‘what’ me, Dean, it’s a simple question, yes or no. You did it, didn’t you?” 

“Yes, I did!” Dean burst out, throwing his arms up in the air. “I put my profile in a box, buried it and sealed the deal.” 

“After I told you not to do anything stupid?!” I scoffed. “Dean, that goes beyond the laws of stupid! How much time do you even have left?” 

He remained silent, turning away. 

“Dean.” 

Still nothing. 

“Dean!” 

Why wasn’t he saying anything? 

“ANSWER ME, DAMNIT-“ 

“A YEAR!” He yelled, turning back around. “I have a year, ok? The damn demon wouldn’t settle for anything else!” He saw me just standing there and held out his hands, waiting for an answer. “Ivy?”

“YOU FRICKING IDIOT!” I screamed, pushing him. “Are you that desperate to limit your chances of living? Do you think that low of yourself? I know what your dad’s done to your protective instincts, Dean Winchester, but he seems to have done nothing for your own survival.” I pushed my finger against his chest, my eyes flickering red for a moment. “Because you feel it’s so necessary to protect Sam and I and blame yourself if we get hurt- just cut it! Because I’m done! Time and time again- I can’t stand it. I’m not going to sit here like your dad did and watch you throw away your life-“ 

“Then don’t.” He whispered, but it cut through my words like a yell. “Leave. Don’t watch me throw away my life.” 

I instantly deflated, setting my jaw. “You can’t be serious.” 

“Deadly.” He seethed, gritting his teeth. 

I shook my head, the winding coil in my head snapping suddenly. “Fine. Congratulations, though, you just killed yourself.” 

“I did it for a reason! Sam is my family, but you wouldn’t understand that, would you?” 

“You’re right, I wouldn’t.” I shrugged, biting back tears. “Even though I had two boys who I’d give my life for in a heartbeat. Or at least I did.” I turned on my heel, walking back into the motel. The first thing I did was grab my spare clothes from Jo, Sam’s eyebrows furrowing in confusion once he saw what I was doing. 

“What happened?” He asked. 

“Ask your brother.” I retorted, taking out the keys to my Mustang and getting in, flooring it. 

“Dean, what the hell?” Sam turned to Dean, gesturing in the direction of where I drove off. 

“I don’t know.” Dean whispered, breathing heavily and unable to take his eyes off where my car once was. 

“Seriously, man, what the hell?” 

“I don’t- I don’t know.” He gulped, running both hands through his hair. “What have I done?”

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