#AND THEN CAS JUMPS OUT THE WINDOW | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hollybell51 · 1 year

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Castiel x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005)

Word count: 9.6K (I'm shocked too dw)

Summary: I have no idea how to describe this I'm so sorry it's just smut. There's also some morning-after shenanigans. Believe me if I could I would but thinking of a title was hard enough.

Content: Just... pretty much 9.6K words of shameless Cas smut because I love him. Only one bed, porn with a plot, friends to lovers (sort of), little bit of hurt/comfort and first aid (?), Cas is a bit of warning honestly. Smut: Cas is a virgin, first kiss, making out, hickeys, blowjob, handjob, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (yikes), fingering, very very light dirty talk, very loving very gentle sex, sharing a bed. Dean is a bit of an oblivious idiot, Sam is less oblivious.

Notes: I wrote this while trying to fall asleep at my friend's house and didn't proof read. I've also only known Cas for six episodes (almost seven), so most of the characterisation for him is based of gifsets, incorrect quotes, and other fanfics (so is the lore/plot because I'm not that far into the series yet but I was impatient so just ignore any mistakes or plot inconsistencies if you find them, although I did try). Hence it's probably bad. But oh well, this wouldn't leave my brain until I wrote it and like I said I'm impatient and also I'm a little bit proud of the smut alone and he's fucking hot I mean come on. Dean Winchester is a better man than me because god damn I would've jumped his bones the second he looked at me and I have no idea how he didn't. Be nice.

Cas was watching you. Again. It wasn’t like you minded, but something about his cool eyes following your movements from across the booth made butterflies swirl in your stomach. You were acutely aware of every single bubble in your glass of lemonade, every clink of the ice cubes, every slurpy noise it made through the straw you were sucking on. You probably looked a bit stupid, hunched over your drink and the plate that had contained your burger, the huge shirt you’d borrowed from Sam while the one you’d packed for yourself dried rolled up to your elbows, hanging off your shoulders way too much to ever be considered cute. Not that you wanted to look cute, and not that it mattered, but…

“There’s a pharmacy down the street,” Sam was saying. “They’d probably have more of that antiseptic, right?”

There was a pause in which you snuck a glance at Cas. His gaze was fixed on the bubbles clustering on your straw, mildly interested as they formed and floated away, formed and floated, again and again in an endless cycle. You’d never found bubbles so fascinating, but now that you looked – and you knew he was looking too – there’d never been anything so beautiful.

“(Y/N)?”

Right, yeah, antiseptic. The cut on your shoulder seemed to itch at the thought, prickling under the carefully applied dressing. You’d done it on a barbed wire fence that had barred the entry to a nest of vampires, and a day later Sam was still worried it would get infected. It wasn’t exactly a clean cut – the fence had been filthy, and your assurance that yes, you were up to date with tetanus shots had stopped him driving you to a hospital. You appreciated the concern, but really, you were sure it would be fine.

“Mhm,” you answered, leaning back in your seat. “D’you think it’ll still be open?”

Beside you, Dean frowned, looking around for a clock. “It’s not that late, right?”

“There’s an open sign in the window.” All eyes swung to Cas, who shrugged, pointing. “It’s lit up,” he added.

“Oh, right,” you said faintly. “Thanks Cas.”

He smiled, a tiny twitch of his lips that had no right to make your heart speed up as much as it did. “That’s ok.”

You smiled back. Your face seemed determined to ignore your brain and grin like an idiot, and it was a damn struggle to keep it to a normal expression.

“Right,” Sam said, clearing his throat and bursting the little bubble you could have sworn you’d been stuck in. You would have liked to stay there, where it was just Cas smiling at you. But no, you were being silly.

“Right,” you echoed. There was a slightly awkward silence, in which you swirled your straw around idly, watching Cas watch the movement of ice cubes and bubbles. When you’d first met him, you hadn’t really believed he was an angel. He seemed so… ordinary. Shabby, even. But the longer you were around him, the surer you’d become that he was the real deal. Strange, not what you’d expected at all, but a real honest-to-goodness angel nonetheless. Even now that he was human, there was still definitely something otherworldly in Cas. Something that, despite the grime and rust of the lives all four of you lead, was almost pure, precious to you, and a little unnerving all at once.

“Do you want some?” you asked, gesturing to your drink.

Cas’s eyes snapped up, almost guiltily.

You smiled. “Lemonade.”

He nodded slowly.

“Here.” You pushed the glass across the table, leaning your chin on your hands and watching as he moved the straw around, then sipped it. You’d been having way too much fun plying him with new things to taste, since food now actually tasted like… food. As opposed to molecules. Apparently.

He wrinkled his nose, drawing back and staring at the glass. Then he leaned forward again and took another sip. There was something in his near-childlike wonder that made your heart ache, the appearance of innocence and naivety so profound that it was hard to remember he was – had been – a soldier. A divine soldier of God. Watching him made you want to reach across the table and just… Well, you didn’t know what it made you want to do. Grab him, maybe? It didn’t matter.

“Any good?” Dean asked, watching Cas mildly.

“It’s very sweet,” he reported. “And sticky.”

Despite yourself, you laughed.

Cas surveyed you, then gave another of those little smiles you’d come to treasure. He took another sip, his eyes never leaving your face.

You cleared your throat, suddenly hyper aware of exactly where you were and what you were supposed to be doing. Not staring at – “mooning over” Dean had teasingly called it not even three days ago, a thought that still plagued you – Cas, that was for sure. You slid out of the booth, since you were the one who needed the antiseptic and you were on the edge. “I’ll go across, meet you back at the hotel.”

“You sure?” Sam asked, watching as you dropped some money on the table. Enough to cover your burger and a small portion of the tip.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” You turned towards Cas, shooting him a small smile. He looked a little confused, and you couldn’t deny the pang of guilt that tugged at your insides. “You can finish that off,” you told him, “if you want.”

“Thankyou,” he said after a moment.

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded to Sam and Dean, the former of whom was staring between you and Cas with a look of what could only be described as incredulity plastered across his face. You were going to ignore it, you decided. “Seeya later,” you said, and left.

You stood before the motel room, shopping bag in hand, staring at Sam’s text. Had he and Dean done this deliberately? Was this some kind of conspiracy between the two of them?

“Room 09,” the message read, “you’re sharing with Cas.” And then, shortly after; “Don’t worry, it’s a double.”

Well, you thought, at least you wouldn’t have to share a bed, and at least you wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt of Cas taking the couch – even though he insisted he didn’t mind, and refused to let you do it.

Just as you raised your hand to knock, the door swung open and there stood the former angel, still in his beige trench coat, tie and all. He hadn’t even taken his shoes off.

“Hi,” you said, slightly breathless. There was something stupidly endearing about the way he just stood there, looking at you.

“Hi,” he repeated. “Do you want to come in?”

“Uh, yeah.” Awkwardly, you squeezed past him into the dully lit room, switching on the light with your elbow. Had he just been sitting in here by himself, in the dark? You hoped not, but at the same time, it was exactly the sort of thing you could imagine him doing.

You deposited your groceries – the antiseptic, a new packet of dressings, painkillers, and a twix you’d grabbed at the counter. You’d figured you could share it with whoever your roomie was, and now you were glad you’d had that foresight. You turned, surveyed the room, then did a double take. Surely not. There had to be something you were missing.

But no, on closer inspection, your eyes were not deceiving you. There was only one bed. A double bed, sure, but still only one bed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you muttered, already reaching for your phone.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, a concerned wrinkle appearing between his brows.

“Sam said this was a double,” you told him.

“It is.”

“Yeah, but there’s only one bed. I always feel bad kicking you to the couch.”

“I don’t mind. And besides,” he added, “you’ve never kicked me.”

“No it’s–” you broke off, catching his smile. “Yeah, alright”

The smile widened. He was a little too proud of himself for your liking.

You looked away, hoping to hide your own grin as you dialled Sam’s number. “You said it was a double,” you accused before he could even greet you.

“Yeah, hi to you too,” he snorted. “It is.”

“There’s only one bed, Sam. Does your room have only one bed?”

“No, we’ve got two singles.”

“Lucky you,” you practically spat. “Now I’m gonna have to live with the guilt of knowing Cas is on the couch.”

“So?” You could almost hear the frown in Sam’s voice. “He doesn’t mind.”

“I know, but–”

“Share the bed with him if it bothers you that much,” he cut you off. In the background, Dean was saying something. Sam shushed him. “I’m sure he’d be happy to.”

“What’s that supposed to–”

He interrupted you again, all too cheerful. “You’ll sort it out.”

You stared at the phone, “call ended” flashing up at you. “Fuck you, Sam,” you sighed.

By the door, Cas frowned. “Is something the matter?”

“No,” you sighed again, grabbing the dressings and antiseptic and taking a seat on the end of the singular bed. Through the gap in the curtains, the sky was darkening from the pale purple it had been at the diner to a deep indigo. “Just… Sam.”

Cas nodded solemnly, as if he knew exactly what you meant.

You tried not to pay too much attention to him as you unbuttoned Sam’s shirt, sliding it down off your shoulder to bare the current dressing. You’d had it on all that day and the night before, so you figured it was time to change it. Gently, you peeled back the adhesive, hissing as the air brushed over the cut. It wasn’t as bad as it had been, mostly scabbed over and less raw-looking than when you’d first applied the dressing, but it was still tender. It was awkward to reach too, running from your shoulder along your collarbone, stopping just shy of the centre of the sternum. Stupid, you’d cursed yourself when you’d done it, and you cursed yourself again now.

“Would you like some help?”

You looked up, meeting Cas’s eyes. Soundlessly, he’d crossed the room and was now standing directly in front of you.

He gestured to the cut. “It looks hard to reach.”

“Uh, yeah, it is.” You shifted over, making room for him beside you. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He sank down beside you, his weight tilting you towards him. Your stomach lurched.

Determinedly dismissing it, you turned slightly to face him, one leg dangling off the side of the bed, the other folded under you. Almost immediately you wished you hadn’t done it, because now all you could see was him, bent over you, his face impassive and focused to a fault.

He took the antiseptic from you, gently dabbing it along the edges of the scab.

“Is that alright?” he asked when you gasped softly.

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Just… stings a little.”

Guilt flashed across his face. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s not you. You’re fine,” you assured him. “It’s the antiseptic, it’s normal.”

“Should I keep going?”

You nodded, your heart racing. His skin was cool where it brushed yours, the shitty lighting somehow playing tricks with the colours in his eyes, making them appear even more startlingly blue than usual. Those eyes were fixed on your cut, like it was the only thing that mattered in the world.

“I wish you’d taken me with you,” he said as he reached for a dressing pad.

“Hm?” You frowned, unsure what he meant. You’d gone alone, which wasn’t why you’d fumbled crossing the fence, but it certainly hadn’t helped. Sam and Dean had been after a demon in the next town over – it took precedence over vampires, you all knew that – and Cas had been with them. You’d been convinced you’d be alright to tackle such a small nest, it was only three, barely a nest at all, and had insisted on it. But still, you’d been a bit more wired than usual, and that was probably to blame for your bungled entrance. It didn’t matter now, you were fine. They were dead.

He shrugged, smoothing the dressing over your skin more gently than you’d ever thought possible. “On the hunt. I wish you’d taken me with you.”

“Nah,” you shook your head, trying to dispel the ache his action caused inside you. “You had other stuff on. You don’t need to be wasting time running after a nest of vampires, demons take priority.” You smiled. “You’ve got more to worry about than a silly little hunter who can’t jump fences.”

Cas looked up, that little wrinkle reappearing on his forehead. “That’s not true,” he said, “I’ll always have time for you. I’ll always worry about you.”

You froze, taken aback by the… intimacy of the words. You’d mentioned before that you liked when people just said what they meant (“Even if it hurts you?” he’d asked, frowning. You’d said that you’d rather that than be left searching for double meanings and hidden clues, and he’d seemed to find that acceptable.), and since then he’d indulged you in that regard. But this felt different, it felt more real than anything he’d ever said to you before. He’d always have time for you, he worried about you.

“Really?” you asked. “You mean that?”

He nodded, his eyes sincere where he held your gaze. There was something here, you knew, something tingling in the air between you. You’d half thought you were imagining things when you noticed him looking at you. You’d chalked it up to him being, well, Cas, and hadn’t allowed yourself to dwell too long on the glimmer of hope that it was more than that. And he’d been an angel for Pete’s sake; divine, untouchable, totally out of your reach. But here, now, with his hand resting where it had settled on your thigh and his face inches from yours, the dimness of the motel somehow illuminating every dancing fleck of colour in his eyes, every beautiful shadow and line on his – human – face, you weren’t ignoring it any longer.

His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. “You’re important to me, (Y/N).”

Oh. Oh. There it was.

He was still looking at you, but there was a hint of what you would have said was nervousness, maybe apprehension, mixed with the sincerity and lingering concern in his eyes. It was so… raw. You felt strangely vulnerable, while at the same time like you were seeing something you weren’t supposed to.

Involuntarily, your eyes flicked down to his lips, your breath hitching in your chest. Fuck it, you thought, then closed the few inches of space between you and pressed your lips to his.

He was completely motionless, and for a wild moment you were convinced you’d grossly misread something and had just made a massive mistake. Then it was like he was coming to life beneath you, pushing back against you, his lips parting under yours, his free hand finding its place cupping your cheek. His mouth was soft, impossibly soft. His tongue, when you brushed against it with your own, tasted like your lemonade.

It was near dead silent in the room, the ticking of the clock on the wall and the distant thrumming of traffic outside the only noises. Then, as you slid your hand up over his leg, fingers squeezing gently at his thigh, Cas made a sound.

It was halfway between a sigh and moan, tiny and restrained, and you could feel him hesitate in the kiss. This is new, it said. This is nice. You let your lips curve into the smile they’d been trying to, squeezing again. It’s alright, you told him with your hand, you’re alright.

You drew back momentarily, sucking a quick breath as Cas chased you, his hand on the back of your neck pulling you closer and closer and closer and closer and impossibly closer until your chest met his. Then you were shifting into his lap, swinging your leg over his and straddling his hips like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was. It sure felt like it.

“Cas,” you breathed, breaking away properly this time and raising your hands to cup his face. “Castiel.”

“Hm?”

You moved your thumb in a soft arc over his cheekbone, smiling as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. His lips found your hand, peppering your palm and wrist with featherlight kisses.

“Can I?” you asked, reluctantly freeing a hand to push at the trench coat he was still wearing.

He looked up, frowning. “What?”

“Take it off,” you whispered, then heat rose in your cheeks. “If you want to, of course. If you want this. You don’t have to.”

He shook his head, pulling back to shrug off the heavy piece of clothing. The blazer followed. He loosened his tie, then seemed to think for a moment before undoing it altogether. It was the first time you’d seen him without it, and he looked… different. Unguarded, almost. Then he was reaching up and unfastening the buttons of his shirt, torturously slowly. He paused, meeting your eyes.

“Is this alright?” he asked.

You smiled, nodding. You’d been staring, you realised, watching his deft fingers work at the material so intently that you hadn’t been thinking about what would show on your face. You took over, finishing off the last few fastenings and pushing the shirt back off his shoulders. You didn’t know what you’d expected his body to look like. You’d had the vague notion that it would be nice, that it would somehow match the rest of him, and you hadn’t been wrong, but now that he was in front of you that same disconcerting feeling of unearthliness haunted the back of your mind. This was Cas, Castiel, and that made it somehow hallowed – irony aside.

“Are you alright?” He was peering up at you, apprehensive.

You nodded. “Are you?”

He echoed your gesture, his fingers running along the collar of your own shirt. A question, a request, testing the waters.

Careful of your still-tender shoulder, you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it smoothly over your head, then undid your bra and cast it to the side. Cas’s eyes snapped to your chest, interest and a sort of hunger mixing on his face. Hesitantly, slowly, his hand inched up your waist to your ribs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He paused.

“It’s ok,” you breathed. When he still seemed wary, you reached down and took his hand in your own, guiding it to your breast and giving a gentle squeeze. His breath hitched, his tongue darting out between his lips.

“I’m…” he broke off, swallowing hard. He shifted, a hard bulge pressing against your thigh. You smiled.

“Hm?”

“I’m… I’m kind of…” He stopped again, floundering.

“It’s alright, Cas. You’re alright.”

He looked up, something close to nervousness dancing across his face. “I haven’t done this before,” he whispered. “I don’t know…”

Oh. Right. Why hadn’t you thought of that? It made sense, you supposed. Despite Dean’s best efforts, Cas hadn’t picked up the other guy’s… habits, at least not yet. You’d wondered about it briefly before coming to the conclusion that it had to be an angel thing, a choice on his behalf. You knew some people didn’t want that with just anyone, which you could understand. What you couldn’t understand was a world where nobody was interested in Cas, but then again, you might have been biassed.

You bit your lip. “Do you want to? It’s ok if you don’t.”

“I do,” he said, his hand still resting on your chest. “I really do, (Y/N). But I don’t know… what to do.”

“I’ll help you,” you assured him, affection blooming in your gut. And alongside it, an odd sort of pride. Cas was trusting you here, enough to admit he didn’t know what to do. It was more than any guy you’d ever been with had been willing to give away.

“We’ll go slow,” you continued. “You tell me what you like, what feels good. If you wanna stop, you say so, ok?”

He nodded.

You took his face in your hands again, running your fingers over the rough stubbled coating his jaw. “Can I touch you?”

“Please,” he murmured.

You trailed your hand down his neck, along his collar bone, over his chest. His skin was soft, smooth. It wasn’t scarred like Dean or Sam’s or your own, and suddenly you wondered if that was somehow a turn off for him. He’d been an angel, immortal, eternal, unblemished even now. If he hadn’t done this before, or even if he had with a normal human, he probably wouldn’t have encountered the kind of skin a hunter such as yourself possessed. Would it bother him?

Then his chest heaved under your hand, the flesh twitching as your touch crept lower, sideways, up again, mapping the expanse of his torso. He moaned softly as you pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, fingers splayed over his heart. Again, you swept down the centre of his body, all thoughts of your own imperfections dashed from your mind as you revelled in the little hums of pleasure you were coaxing from him.

Carefully, slowly, you inched lower. You passed his belly button, the light trail of hair that led down from it, finally encountering his belt buckle. You paused, tracing aimless patterns over the skin just above the waistline of his pants, pushing your fingers below the material after a moment.

“Is this alright?” you asked, watching his face. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed.

“Mhm,” he sighed. “Yes.”

You smiled. God, he was beautiful. “You wanna take ‘em off?”

At that, his eyes snapped open, the pupils so wide they almost obscured the blue of his irises. “My pants?” he asked.

You nodded. “You don’t have to, but…” You ran your hand lightly over the increasingly noticeable bulge you could feel. “I can touch you? Here.”

He stared. “Do you want to?”

You gave a little huff of laughter, nodding. “Only if you do. I can keep touching you other places if you want, I can kiss you…” You stopped as he deftly reached down and undid his belt, button and fly in one fluid motion, lifting his hips momentarily and kicking off his pants. It was very fast, impressively smooth. And underneath…

Your mouth watered at the sight. The outline of his cock straining against his underwear, a small wet patch already forming. You usually didn’t indulge the mantra of “bigger is better”, especially not when it came to penises, but there was no denying that your pussy was already aching at the thought of the stretch Cas’s would cause. Not that it was a behemoth, far from it, but he was certainly well endowed.

His voice snapped you from your reverie, jerking your gaze away from his dick and back to his face. “Is that…” he paused, searching your gaze anxiously. “Is it alright?”

Your heart melted. “Oh, Cas,” you sighed. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Just perfect.”

A sound that could only be described as whine slipped from his still kiss-bruised lips, sending a bolt of heat shooting down your spine to pool between your legs. Before the request had formed on your tongue, he shed his underwear too, leaving himself bare to you.

“Have you touched yourself?” you asked, jerking your gaze from his cock. Fuck, you’d never wanted to lay hands on a dick more in your life.

Cas looked away for a moment. “No,” he said. “Should I have?”

You shook your head. “It’s up to you. I’d like to, if you’re ok with it.”

“Touch me?”

“Mhm.”

He opened his mouth, closed it again, then nodded.

“Ok.” Dammit, you thought. If this was his first time, you wanted him to feel good. Would he tell you if he didn’t? You thought he would, he was always honest when you asked him to be, and he clearly wanted this. But it was that same want that made you wonder if he’d just keep going no matter what, and you didn’t want that.

You quickly spat into your hand, stretching up, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Then, on second thoughts, you licked softly at his bottom lip. His breath rushed against your skin, the kiss hot and messy and barely even a kiss at all. It was more you licking into Cas’s mouth, Cas experimenting with his tongue in yours. After a few tries he found a rhythm, soft and supple, gentle and careful. Wonderful.

It was then that you reached down with your spit-lubed hand, wrapping your fingers around his throbbing length, coating the whole thing with moisture. There was already a little precum beading on the tip, and you used that too, your hand sliding easily. The skin here was smooth too, apart from the thick veins and swell of the head, the slit that you ran your thumb over, causing Cas to moan – really moan – into your mouth.

“Like this?” you murmured, moving your kisses away from his lips, over his stubble-roughed jaw, down to his neck. You sucked gently at the hollow under his jaw bone, hot and wet, leaving a red mark behind. You moved further down, over his jugular, more and more hickeys blossoming in your wake.

“Ah, (Y/N), yes–” Cas gasped. “Oh, just like that, please.”

You hummed softly, his breathlessness coupled with the words themselves like fog clouding your mind. All you wanted was more. More of his ragged voice, more of the desperate pleading, more of his hips jerking up into your hand and as your fingers slid smoothly over his cock. Your mouth paused at the base of his throat, made more apparent by the strain in his neck – the Plender gap, you thought it might have been called. You could vaguely picture that word with an arrow pointing to the spot on a medical diagram, although you weren’t sure why – and sucked a particularly dark hickey into the skin there. His collar would cover it in the morning.

His hand, which had been flitting about your waist, suddenly found its way to your hair. His fingers tangled in it, pulling your head back up so he could kiss you again. You smiled, your own free hand squeezing at his thigh just as you had before.

He moaned again, deep in the back of his throat, the sound reverberating through your whole body. How had you waited this long? If you’d known it’d be like this, you’d have jumped his bones the second you laid eyes on him. Hell, you’d wanted to.

“Can I use my mouth?” you asked between kisses – they still weren’t really kisses by any stringent definition, too messy for that.

“You are, hm, using your mouth,” Cas pointed out.

You laughed. It was so… matter of fact. “I mean down here,” you explained, giving his dick a gentle squeeze. “I can keep doing this if you want, but…”

“But?”

“I wanna taste you, Cas,” you smiled.

His mouth fell open, his cheeks colouring. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he was new to this, you supposed. “Taste me?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, ducking forward to nip at his lip. “Wanna feel you in my mouth, wanna choke on your cock. I’ll make you feel so good, Cas, I promise.”

“(Y/N).” His voice was even more gravelly than usual, roughened by the raw desire glinting in his eyes.

“Mhm?”

“Are you sure?”

“That’s sweet,” you laughed again. “I’m sure, Cas. Remember you can stop me whenever you want, though, yeah?”

“Yeah, alright.”

“Alright?”

He kissed you again, more gently and with more precision than before, then nodded. “Go ahead.”

You felt a grin break across your face, your mouth already watering. You didn’t waste time, giving Cas a quick peck on the cheek before sliding off the edge of the bed and kneeling between his legs, your arms resting comfortably on his thighs. You ignored the slight pull of your cut, taking his cock once more in your hand and pumping it gently, once, twice, three times before you lowered your head and kissed the tip.

Cas’s stomach twitched, his hand going once more to your hair as his breath caught in his throat.

“Alright?” you asked, your own breath ghosting over the sensitive area, raising goosebumps.

“Yes,” he sighed. “Keep going?”

You smiled. “Magic word?”

“Please,” he practically growled.

Alright then. You slid your lips over him, relaxing your mouth as you sank as far down his length as you could. What wouldn't fit in your mouth was taken care of by one hand, the other busy holding his hips down. He nearly whined when you moved, bobbing your head back and forth slowly at first, but faster by the minute.

“Oh,” he panted, “oh, (Y/N), yes–”

“Good?” you mumbled, but it didn’t come out sounding like the original word at all. Still, Cas seemed to get the point.

“So good, feels so good. You feel so good, (Y/N), you have no idea.”

The praise went straight to your panties, pooling with the rest of the hot wetness that had been gathering steadily. You’d wanted to take your time, be as careful and gentle as he’d been with you. But now, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the weight and the heat of him, you were losing your composure.

“Oh,” he whispered again as you sped up, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. He dick was slick with your spit and only getting messier, the saltiness of his precum mixing with the lingering sweetness of your lemonade.

You moaned, the vibrations jolting Cas’s hips despite his best efforts to stay still, as well as your hand attempting to hold him down. You gave a tiny huff of laughter out your nose, lowering your head even further until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, relaxing completely.

“(Y/N),” he panted. “(Y/N).”

“Hm?” You glanced up at him, your eyes watering slightly. He made a sound you’d thought only existed in pornos as his fingers tightened in your hair.

“You look… ah, so…” He paused, the words choked by another moan as your tongue swirled around his cock. “So beautiful.”

For the second time, your heart felt like it was melting in your chest. You smiled, your enthusiasm doubling. You were gonna make him cum in your mouth, you were determined. And after that – if he wanted, of course – you’d spread your legs for him and let him fuck you senseless.

He was close, he was so damn close, cock twitching and fingers clutching desperately at you despite his best attempts to be gentle. “I’m–” He broke off, gasping. “So much, (Y/N), it’s so much.”

You wondered if you should stop, if you should pull back and ask if he was ok. If he’d never done this before and hadn’t touched himself either, it was unlikely that he’d ever experienced an orgasm. Maybe you should reassure him. You ran your free hand down his thigh, squeezing gently. It’s alright, you tried to say with the gesture, hoping he’d understand. I’ve got you, you’re alright.

Then he was groaning deeply, his head thrown back and his eyes closed, thighs shaking under you and hot saltiness shooting down your throat. His skin shone with sweat, his chest heaving, his hand gripping your hair so tight it almost – almost – hurt. But it couldn’t have, not when your throat was working to swallow every drop of what he was giving you, not when he looked so beautiful laid out bare above you, not when you could see the pure, raw pleasure painted on his face.

As gently as you could, you drew back and licked him clean. You rested your head on his thigh, placing a soft kiss there, then drew back and sat, waiting.

Finally, Cas opened his eyes and looked at you. He took in your swollen lips, the flush you could feel dusting your cheeks, the tears that had leaked from your eyes, the bird’s nest that was your hair. And he smiled, reaching out a hand to help you up.

“Are you alright?” you asked, settling back on the bed beside him. You took his hands, holding them close to you. “It wasn’t… too much?”

“It was wonderful,” he said solemnly. Then he looked away. “Can I…”

“Yeah?” you prompted. “Can you…?”

He turned back, meeting your eyes. “I want to make you feel like that, too.”

Your stomach did a flip. “Oh.”

“Will you show me?” Cas’s eyes searched yours, curious and sincere. And how the hell could you say no to him?

You nodded, unbuttoning your pants and casting them off – admittedly with much less grace and efficiency than Cas. After a moment’s hesitation you did the same to your underwear, dropping them carelessly over the edge of the bed. You could hunt for them in the morning.

He was watching you the whole time, eyes following every movement you made in that way that was so him. You’d been unnerved by it before you’d gotten to know him, but now it just turned you on.

Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and ran his hand over your stomach, up, up, up until he reached your breast. He didn’t stop as he had before, his thumb skimming your hard nipple, making you suck in a harsh breath.

“Is this alright?” he asked.

You nodded. “Mhm.”

“What about this?” He slid lower, past your belly button to where your leg joined your hip. It sent tingles running through your whole body.

“Mhm.”

“This?” Lower still, over your thigh, along the inside of it, so close to where you wanted him most.

“Yeah, Cas, you don’t have to ask.”

“I want you to feel–”

You stopped him with a kiss, brief and gentle. “Whatever you do is gonna feel great, ok?”

“But I’m–”

“Cas.”

He fell silent when you placed your hand on his face, leaning into your touch.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered. “I’m gonna help you, remember?”

He nodded, leaning forwards to press his lips against yours. He was getting pretty good at kissing, you noted. Not that he’d been bad when you’d started, but he’d figured out what worked with you.

“Show me,” he urged, the hand that had been tracing over your leg finding yours. “Show me where to touch you.”

This is it, you thought as he drew back, watching where his fingers twined with your own. He had officially smashed apart your standards for all men – and former angels – with just six words. You did as he asked, drawing his hand down between your legs to your now practically drenched pussy.

“Here,” you murmured, a little shock going through you as your fingers brushed your clit.

Cas’s eyes were wide, the pleasure-haze from his orgasm all but gone now. “Here?” he confirmed, pressing gently at the stiff little bundle of nerves.

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice much less steady than you’d have liked.

“Like this?” He slid his finger in a careful circle around it, his eyes never leaving your face.

“Yes, Cas, just like that.”

He did it again, then again and again. You sucked a harsh breath through your teeth, your hips twitching involuntarily.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “Fuck, Cas.”

“Is this alright?” he asked mildly.

“More than alright,” you half laughed, half panted. You broke off in another moan as he moved his hand, sliding the tips of his fingers around your hole, his palm pressing against your clit. You briefly wondered if he was doing it deliberately or just experimenting, and if he’d heard something about how to finger girls somewhere. If so, you wanted to know where. But, you thought a moment later, who really cared when it felt so damn good?

“Can I?” he murmured, watching your face carefully.

“Yeah,” you nodded frantically. “Yeah, go ahead— please.” The word was torn from you in a way that made colour bloom over Cas’s face as he pushed his finger into you. The heel of his hand was still pressing on your clit, and you ground down on it in a desperate search for friction as he added another finger, your own fingers digging into his shoulders and your breath coming in short gasps.

“Am I…” he started, then swallowed. “Is this good?”

“So fucking good,” you replied. “How the fuck are you so good at this?” It was ridiculous, unfair. Most dudes who’d tried had lamely poked at you until you’d given up trying to show them and just moaned loudly, leaving them to grin smugly, convinced they’d made you cum. Cas, however, was well on his way to conjuring the real thing.

He looked away for a moment, a small satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Good, you thought. He should be satisfied, he was fucking phenomenal. “I’m not sure,” he said.

It was your turn to smile. “Well you are,” you said simply. Then he moved his hand again and all you could think was fuck, because he really was incredible. He was kissing your neck, sucking at the spot where it met your shoulder, his other hand resting on your hip as you rocked against him, his own soft moans mixing with yours.

And God, you wanted him to fuck you.

“Hold on,” you panted. Much as his fingers were doing it for you, you couldn’t fight the shiver the thought of his cock buried inside you sent down your spine.

Cas froze immediately.

“No, no, it’s ok,” you assured him quickly. “I wanna try something else.”

“Is this not–”

“You’re doing great,” you interrupted. “I promise. But…” As before, you slid your hand gently down to palm at the already half-formed erection sitting between his legs.

Cas frowned.

“Would you like to fuck me?” you asked tentatively. You hated how unsure you sounded, how small.

His eyebrows shot halfway up his face.

“Only if you want to,” you added quickly. But from the way his dick had visibly hardened at your words, you guessed he probably did. So, you continued, “I’d like it if you did.”

Again, his tongue darted out over his lips. His voice was husky when he spoke. “I’d like it too.”

“Ok, what are we waiting for?” You smiled, shuffling backwards and easing yourself back on the bed. When you saw that Cas wasn’t following, you reached over and took his hand, dragging him down on top of you. “Come on,” you encouraged.

He gave a little “oof” as he crashed against you, quickly propping himself up above you. It looked uncomfortable.

“Relax,” you said, wriggling into the mattress and running your hands over his arms and shoulders. “It’s alright.”

“I don’t want to squash you.”

You smiled, pulling at him to come closer. “You won’t, don’t worry.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. Besides, I wouldn’t mind.”

He snorted indignantly. “I would. Then whose lemonade would I steal?”

You laughed at that. Castiel, former divine soldier of God, joking about stealing your lemonade while he was about to fuck you. If you’d gone back and told yourself from a year ago, she’d have slapped you in the loony bin. “You could just order your own,” you pointed out.

“I could,” he conceded. “But I will not.”

“Ok, I don’t mind.” You stretched up, capturing his lips with your own and drawing him down towards you. What you’d said was true, he really didn’t need to worry about squashing you. You liked the warm weight of him, the firmness and certainty that his body pressed against yours brought, his arms caging you to the bed.

You smiled as his tongue slid along your bottom lip, opening your mouth almost immediately. Yeah, he knew what he was doing now. You hooked your leg over his, pulling his hips hard against your own. You were still tingling, still electrified with want and need from having deprived yourself of his fingers just minutes before, and almost without your conscious awareness you ground against him.

You swallowed the little moan that slipped from his mouth, rubbing your wetness over his hard cock.

“(Y/N),” he gasped, breaking the kiss, his hips moving in time with yours.

“Cas,” you echoed, equally as breathless. “Please?”

He swallowed, his eyes dark.

“I want you inside me,” you continued. “Please, Cas, I need you inside me. Now.”

He cursed softly, so softly the only thing you caught was the tone. You wondered what angels cursed by. Not God, surely. But it didn’t matter, because he was taking himself in hand and lining up at your entrance, looking at you for permission. “Here?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Gently, so gently, he pushed inside you. You gave a little whimper that might have been embarrassing in any other situation at the stretch, the delicious feeling of being filled up completely by him. Cas, on the other hand, didn’t make a sound. He wasn’t even breathing, just staring at the place where your body swallowed his, his eyes wide.

“Hey,” you said softly, smiling at him when his eyes met yours. “You alright down there?”

“Yes,” he whispered, running a hand reverently over your stomach. His fingers brushed over your scars, some silver, some a newer pale pink. Your earlier doubts fluttered to the front of your mind, but you determinedly pushed them away. Now was not the time.

“You can move,” you told him, rocking your hips gently against his by way of demonstration. Then, “Please?”

He nodded, one hand resting on your hip as he pulled out a little, sliding smoothly back in. He hummed quietly, did it again, then again and again and again, finding his rhythm. It was good, it was as gentle as everything else, firm enough to pull at that special place deep in your belly, steady and decisive. Most of all, it was Cas. Cas fucking you, Cas’s cock sending spasms of heat through your body, Cas’s hand steadying himself and you, Cas’s lovely gravelly voice mumuring your name.

He leant further over you, bending his head to place a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the cut-free side of your collar bone, following it with another, more forceful one, then more until you were sure you looked like someone had spilt wine over your chest. You supposed it was only fair, given how many love bites you’d showered him with.

“Shit, Cas,” you whispered, your hand coming up to run over the back of his head, fingers carding through his mussed-up hair. You’d always wanted to fix it, stroke it down, maybe make it worse. When you’d first met him you’d gone so far as to tell him to his face that it was “un-angelic”. He’d been amused by that.

Now, he groaned against your skin. You smiled to yourself, stroking his scalp again and coaxing another wonderful little moan. You curled your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, lifting your hips off the mattress in time with his thrusts. His breath fanned over your neck, the muscles of his arm taut.

“I’m so close,” you whispered, and you were. The tightness was building in your stomach, coiling and swirling into a dense knot of pleasure. Every movement Cas made had his pelvis hitting your clit, the bedhead hitting the wall behind it – you briefly felt bad for the next room’s residents – and Cas’s cock hitting deep inside you. The only sounds were the squeaking of the mattress – again, you felt bad – and the wet slap of skin on skin, peppered with your combined moans and sighs.

“Fuck, Cas,” you gasped, your voice rising in pitch as you spiralled closer, closer… “Oh, shit, fuck, oh my God, Cas, Cas, I’m gonna cum, holy shit I’m gonna– Castiel!”

You let go, your eyes screwed tightly shut, spine arching off the bed as the bomb inside you exploded. Sparks fizzed through your veins, every muscle in your body clenching as stars speckled your vision and you cried Cas’s name over and over like some kind of mantra.

He hadn’t stopped, in fact he’d sped up, and when your mind finally crashed back into your body his hips were stuttering, his face buried in your neck. He spilled inside you, hot and thick as it had been in your mouth, a deep groan thrumming through you from where his lips still rested on your chest. He stilled after a moment, still holding most of his weight off you despite your arms wrapped around his back, whispering your name like it was a prayer.

You wriggled sideways, smiling as he went limp and flopped down beside you. Well, sort of beside you. His head and the better part of his shoulders still rested over your chest, his lips ghosting over you in feather light kisses, his hand running up and down your arm.

“We should get cleaned up,” you whispered after a moment.

“Hm?”

“Clean up,” you repeated. “We’re all sticky.”

“Oh,” was all he said. Then, “alright then.”

You extricated yourself, squeezing his shoulder gently as you rose and headed for the bathroom. You debated pulling him into the shower with you, but as your eyes settled on the folded washcloth by the sink you scrapped that idea. This would be quicker and easier, and you were tired, dammit. There’d be other opportunities — at least you hoped there would be.

You wiped yourself down, turning to find Cas standing in the doorway. The flickering yellow neon strip of illumination above the mirror cast weird shadows over his body, still shining with exertion. Beautiful, even with the medley of hickeys on his neck and the mess of his and your cum around his crotch.

You beckoned him closer, spongeing away the sweat and other spunk coating his skin. Occasionally you’d look up, without fail meeting his eyes. The usual interest had been replaced with something more; something whole and warm and just for you. The thought made your heart skip a beat.

When you were finished, you stretched up and kissed him again, just once. Then you took his hand, heading back towards the bed.

He hesitated, and you turned. He was looking at the couch, indecision marring his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I assumed you’d want the bed to yourself,” he shrugged. “You usually don’t share”

Oh, ok. “Usually, yeah,” you replied, as casually as you could. “But I wanna share with you.” You looked down at your still joined hands, pulling gently. “Stay?”

After a moment, he nodded.

It took longer than it should have to sort out the stupidly layered sheets and blankets, but finally you were both finished wriggling and shifting around, comfortably facing each other. You smiled at him, taking his hand again.

“I wondered what it would feel like to lie beside you, while you slept. You looked so… at peace.” He leaned forward the few inches between you, his lips cool against your forehead. “Beautiful.”

Your voice was quieter than you’d meant it to be, and breathier. “You watch me sleep?”

“It’s hard not to.” It may have been your imagination, but he sounded a little guilty.

You laughed, leaning forward to whisper, “That’s a little creepy, Cas.”

“Should I not have?”

“I don’t mind,” you said after a pause, “but maybe try not to mention things like that. Most people would find it weird.”

“You don’t?”

You shook your head. “Not when it’s you.” The hand that had been holding his was free now, sliding up to cup his face almost of its own volition. You pressed your lips to his, softly and slowly, sweet as syrup. You shifted closer still, draping your arm over him.

“Because I’m important to you, too?” he asked when you drew back. His eyes searched yours in the dimness, sincere and open. God, he was just… so much.

You smiled. “Yeah, Cas, you sure are.”

You woke to a hand running over your shoulder, the rise and fall of a chest beneath your cheek and the steady beating of a heart. Cas’s heart, Cas’s chest, Cas’s hand.

“Hi,” you whispered, sitting up. His hand ceased its movements, his lips curling into a gentle smile.

“Hello.”

You dipped down, kissing him softly, your finger tracing the outline of his lips when you drew away. “Sleep well?”

He sighed deeply, staring at the ceiling for a moment before his gaze found yours again. “Better than I ever have before. Thank you, (Y/N).”

“That’s alright.” You looked away, heat rushing to your face. “It was my pleasure.”

“I can see why you – humans – like it so much.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“Sex,” he explained. “I think I get it now.”

“Oh,” you laughed. “Well, that was pretty good sex. For someone who’s never done it before, you were amazing.”

“Really?” He leaned back, surveying your face carefully.

You nodded. “And anyway,” you went on, “it usually feels better when it’s someone who’s…”

He waited, watching you stumble over your words.

“You know…” You paused, swallowing, half wishing you’d just left it at telling him he was good. “Someone who’s special to you,” you finished lamely.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “then I’m glad it was you.”

You didn’t really know how to respond to that, so you just smiled and kissed him again. It was slow and lazy, his bare chest silken under your own, nothing but the soft rush of breath and tiny hum he gave, the rustle of the sheets, the ticking of the motel room clock. Then your phone rang.

“Fucking hell,” you muttered as you broke away, giving Cas a final apologetic peck before making your way to the table where you’d dumped it. Sam’s name flashed on the screen.

“What do you want?” you growled.

“Breakfast,” he answered. “What’s up your ass?”

“I was sleeping” you answered smoothly, then, “I don’t like being woken up.”

He snorted. “Yeah, alright. Meet us outside in, say, twenty minutes?”

You glanced at Cas, who was now sitting up and, you guessed it, watching you. You squished the phone to your chest. “Breakfast in twenty?” you asked.

He nodded, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. You couldn’t help staring just a little as he went about getting dressed, drinking in every rapidly disappearing inch of skin like some kind of sexually repressed Victorian maiden.

“Sure,” you said to Sam, then hung up. The problem that you hadn’t thought through last night was the hickeys. You had a scarf, you could button your shirt over your chest, and thankfully Cas had shown more restraint than you had. The most problematic mark sat right in the hollow under his jaw, two love bites blending together. It wasn’t even hickey-shaped, really, but you didn’t think that’d fool Dean and Sam.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, fastening the final button on his shirt.

“Nothing,” you sighed. “But Dean’s gonna give us endless – and I mean endless – shit.”

“You’ve killed demons, (Y/N),” he smiled. “And you still can’t deal with Dean’s endless shit?”

“Oi! I can, I just don’t want to.” You crossed the room, poking him square in the chest. “And you’re gonna be dealing with it too, so don’t get cocky.”

“We’ll deal with it together.” It was tentative, almost a question.

You smiled, taking his hands. “Castiel and (Y/N) vs Dean Winchester’s endless shit. I can work with that.”

Things were a little strange over breakfast. Sam and Dean kept glancing at each other, having their annoying silent conversations that consisted of raised eyebrows and side-eyes, the occasional jerk of the head or twist of the mouth. Self consciously, you re-adjusted your scarf, pointedly not meeting anyeone’s eyes. You’d almost made the call not to sit next to Cas, but then he’d looked up at you from his spot by the window and you didn’t stand a chance. You were grateful for your decision when the food came, it made sharing with him a lot easier.

“Dude,” Sam said suddenly, twisting to face his brother and nearly taking out his glass of water. The eyebrow raising and eye-widening had gotten more intense in the last minute, and clearly they’d hit a boiling point.

“It’s not a hickey!” Dean protested. “It’s not even hickey-shaped!”

You froze, fork halfway to your mouth.

“What?” Cas voiced your thoughts, frowning over the cup of coffee he was nursing.

Sam sighed. “Cas, look out the window for a second.”

“Hey–” you started, but you were too late. Both Sam and Dean’s eyebrows shot halfway up their foreheads, and Cas was dutifully peering through the glass. Why did he choose now of all times to listen to Sam?

“That’s a hickey,” the younger man was claiming triumphantly, nodding to the stain on Cas’s neck.

Dean whistled softly. “That’s two hickeys. It’s like… a Siamese hickey.”

“Gross, Dean,” you muttered, ignoring the heat in your cheeks.

He shrugged. “It’s a beautiful, natural act, (Y/N), lighten up. Congratulations, Cas. Who’s the lucky girl?”

Sam made a noise like he was choking. You studied your hands on the table in front of you. Dean grinned. Cas didn’t say anything.

“Was it that waitress?” Dean asked, leaning forwards. “She was cute, man, I’d have tapped that.”

“No, it wasn’t the waitress.”

Dean frowned, then his eyes widened. “The hotel receptionist?” he whispered. “Dude, she was a milf. Nice one.”

“Dean…” Sam started, looking between you and Cas. You glared.

“What? He deserves a pat on the back. I gotta say, I wasn’t sure if you had it in you.”

Sam sighed. “I don’t think it was the hotel receptionist.”

“No? Who else?”

Again, he glanced at you. You hadn’t moved, stiff as a statue and bracing for impact. You were so close to just spitting it out right there, biting the bullet and getting it over with. But you hadn’t discussed that with Cas, and you couldn’t exactly do so now.

Dean was looking expectantly at Sam, who was shaking his head in disbelief. You couldn’t blame him. Then, as if in slow motion, Dean’s face fell and realisation dawned in his eyes.

“No,” he said softly. “No, you didn’t.”

It was your turn to shrug. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t get a little bit of a kick out of Dean’s absolutely horrified expression. Endless shit that was about to rain down on you and all.

“You slept together? You,” he looked at you, “and you?” He looked at Cas.

“Yes,” the former angel said stiffly. “It was nicer than the couch.”

“No, I mean–”

You raised a hand, stopping him. “Yes, Dean,” you sighed. “Just… get it out now.”

“Aw, man.” He groaned, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “That was you guys?”

“I told you,” Sam shrugged, looking all too smug.

Cas frowned. “Told him what?”

“We could hear you,” Dean muttered, his cheeks going a deep red. “I didn’t think we were sharing a wall, Sam did. Drew me a diagram of the motel layout and everything. I didn’t wanna believe it, I didn’t wanna know that… Aw, man!”

Sam’s smile widened, and he extended a hand across the table. “Pay up.”

“Pay up?” You glared at him, incredulous. “What the fuck do you mean, pay up?”

“I mean he owes me fifty. Thanks for that, by the way.” With this, he nodded to Cas.

You gaped. “Please don’t tell me you bet on me and Cas sleeping together. And please don’t tell me you bet for it.”

“What can I say? I knew it’d happen eventually, the way you drool over each other. Not my fault Dean actually took me up on it.”

You groaned, twisting to bury your face in Cas’s trench coat. Absently, he patted your hair. “Why can’t you guys just be normal about one single thing?” you lamented. “Who the hell bets on their friends sleeping together?”

“Actually,” Dean said through a mouthful of bacon, “it’s a very normal thing to do.”

“Mhm, back at Stanford–”

“Back at Stanford,” you mimicked, cutting him off. “I can’t believe you two.”

Dean held his hands up as if surrendering. “Hey, sorry, but I didn’t think either of you would have the balls to ever make a move. And it was fifty dollars, don’t try to tell me you wouldn’t take that.”

“I can’t believe I’m gonna have to sit in the car all day with you.”

“Me too,” Cas added solemnly.

You sighed, taking his hand under the table and laying it between you, squeezing in full view of Sam and Dean. Cas squeezed back.

“You’re not allowed to… do anything in the back of my car.” Dean said after a moment. “Especially not with me or Sam there too.”

Defiantly, you shifted closer to Cas, fingers still entwined with his, firmly meeting Dean’s eyes. “Don’t bet on it.”

3K notes · View notes

mistydeyes · 7 months

Note

hiiiiiii can you please do a reader who is captain of a all woman force like top 3 military ranks and shes young to and she dates gaz ex

When 141 raid las v they get over powered by shadows and laswell knew this would happen so she calls in reader and her team to help 141 are there thinking fight until you drop until they see soldiers in all black military outfits with masks take down shadows no sweat. And then soap comes up like “thanks man who are you” and she’s like “we’re the widows” and uncovers her mask to reveal she’s a woman…….

I always imagined in the cod world an black widow inspired branch

THANK YOU SO MUCH AND YOU ARE LOVED,GORGEOUS,SMART,WORTHY 💕💕💕

thank you so much for requesting and the kind words! highkey wish they would introduce a group of badass fighter women into the modern warfare universe

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summary: Working behind the scenes is a group of highly trained and focused women. They're only whispers until the 141 is put into a perilous position and require rescuing.

pairing: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, depictions of violence

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"How's that lover boy of yours doing, Angel?" your second-in-command joked. You rolled your eyes as you closed your final page of post-op paperwork. "Probably trying to beat his mates in a push-up contest," you replied, laughing at the thought of Kyle doing anything else. Despite what you thought, Gaz was pinned down in an empty cargo container in the middle of Mexico. While Ghost and Soap provided cover, he was trying to contact Laswell through a majority-busted radio. "Watcher-1, it's Bravo team," he shouted before he heard the broken-up replies from Laswell. Price pulled the radio out of his hands before he took the tiny window of opportunity to respond. "Watcher-1, we need emergency evac," he rapidly said with a hoarse tone, "we need help, Watcher-1."

Your restful slumber was awoken by a hurried set of knocks on your quarter's door. You hastily jumped out of bed and opened it to reveal a private, standing sheepishly in front of you. "Sorry to wake you ma'am but Chief Station Laswell is online in the conference room and she wants to speak to you," they said hastily and you quickly followed after them, disregarding the current state you were in. An hour later, you, your lieutenant, and sergeants were on a helo to Las Alamas, Mexico. "They say what kind of shit they're in?" Iris, your most junior sergeant, asked over the howling night air and the sound of rotating helicopter blades. "Only that it's Captain Price's men and their last comm came from a storage container," you replied. Your team could tell you were worried and your lieutenant threw an arm around your shoulders. "We'll get them and make sure Sergeant Kyle is safe, Major," she reassured but this did nothing to help the growing pit in your stomach and the pooling sweat in your palms. Why the fuck did you let this happen, Price?

"Evac in 2 hours," the pilot called over the comms and your team dispersed into the rubble of what resembled a base. You used the back of your hand to shield your masked face from the kicked-up sand and dirt. The midnight black balaclavas felt hot against your face but you disregarded the minor discomfort. Countless bodies of the private militia group, the Shadows, littered the ground and you kicked over each body in a fruitless attempt to identify them. "Cargo holds should be 2 clicks to our north," Viper, your lieutenant, directed and you signaled them to follow your lead. You approached cautiously, hiding behind other containers and building rubble as you swept for enemy reinforcements. You looked down to see a cluster of heat signatures heading your way. "Hold on," you directed with a fist in the air, "we got company." The group stopped on your command and you quickly devised a plan, "Iris and Artemis, you take overwatch," you commanded as they began to move in careful sprints, "Cosmo, you and I will move towards the cargo," with that, you dispersed and moved quickly under the guise of dust.

As soon as you neared the rusted metal structure, you could hear a cacophony of shouts followed by the piercing sound of bullets. "Get down, Angel," you could hear your sergeant yell and you thudded to the ground. Amongst the dust, you could see the soldiers fall one by one with your team's sniper rounds filing through them like they were paper. Despite feeling absolute pride in their skill set, you were interrupted by a tight grip on your ankles. You turned to see a Shadow Company member crawling towards you, knife ready to attack. The adrenaline kicked in as you slammed your boot into their face and prepared to go on the offensive. As they were momentarily stunned, you took the opportunity to savagely jump on their back and crudely drag their knife along their neck. "Good night," you whispered before letting them fall to the ground with a thud. You continued to move to your target, gingerly wiping the reddened blood on your pants. Cosmo didn't question your appearance as you entered her vision and resumed the mission. When you reached the outer doors of the container, your other two remaining members had joined.

You knocked in succession, a code Laswell had told you before you departed. After a few moments of anticipation, the door slowly opened to reveal the tired and grimy faces of Price's team. You looked around and lost count of the amount of injuries you noticed and how some of their limbs were turned in unnatural ways. You could feel your chest tighten as you looked to find Kyle amongst the empty shell cartridges. You were comforted when you saw his face peer over the group. You walked over to him and hugged him tightly, savoring the feeling of knowing he was safe in your arms. "Thank you for the rescue," you could hear him whisper before he pulled you back into an embrace. "You know these lads, Garrick?" you could hear someone say. You turned to see the bruised and cut face of Soap as he tried to feign a smile. Before Kyle could respond, you were sure to make yourself and your team known. "We're not men, Sergeant," you said confidently, peeling off your dusty and blood-soaked mask, "we're the widows."

#kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #call of duty #mw2 imagine #madebyizzie #gaz imagine #kyle garrick imagine #mw2 #izzie is writing #mw2 fanart

595 notes · View notes

grimoireofhayley · 9 months

Text

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, eventual Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ Content, Stalking (let me know if there's more that needs to be added), Possessiveness

Word Count: 0.7k

Summary: You have been best friends with Billy Loomis since you both were in diapers, however, when high school hit, Billy's mom had filed for divorce and had left his father. His dad was miserable even in marriage, hence his continuous affairs with Maureen Prescott. Though, after the divorce and his mother leaving, Billy has been different since; He started dating Sidney Prescott, the late Mrs. Prescott's daughter. He never showed an interest in her until now… But why?

You had a crush on him forever, but decided to make it dormant since he’s in a relationship… but his head was elsewhere even after he got with Sidney. His heart wasn’t in it and you can tell. He was void with any empathy with her and lacked the emotion in his friend group, but when he is around you his true self would show, which sent you mixed signals, often making you question yourself. He was toying with you and he knows it, but he can't help himself, he has to have you one way or another, but not just yet...

On the other hand, there’s Stuart ‘Stu’ Macher, another taken guy. You met him during your first year of high school when Billy went through a stage of not talking to you. Stu was quick to befriend you during your time of strife and he never failed to miss an opportunity to flirt with you or grab at you, even in front of his girlfriend, Tatum. You took it as a sign he was playing around, but what if he wasn’t? What if he couldn’t have you just yet, either?

Both seem interested in you and both have been obsessing over you in their own ways, but they can’t let the thought of having you get in the way of their plan… Neither of them know about one another’s fixation with you…

All chapter links! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 1

Your fingers flew across the keyboard, typing away at your English Assignment that was due the next day.

You sighed, hearing a loud crackling sound outside.

…A storm…

Lightning flashed, filtering the already darkened-sky as you pushed away from your desk. Wandering across your room, you opened your window. Pellets of rain hit against the chipped-frame, splashing up your arm as you leaned outside.

“God, what a sight.” You smiled, fluttering your eyes.

Storms always make you happy, especially during times of stress.

You loved how the sky would light up in different shades of white, yellow, and even purple when the lightning strikes. How the rain sounded when it hit the pavement, windowsill, or cars. The way the wind caused the trees to dance and how it whistled and tousled your hair. It was pure bliss.

You closed your eyes, the smile still on your lips, droplets of water began to run down your face, and your hair was beginning to damp.

“Oh, how I wish I could be reading The Shining right now.” You chuckled, “Too bad the school has other plans..” You whispered, blinking your eyes open.

You turned around to head back to your computer to finish your assignment, though, something or somebody had grabbed your arm.

You screamed, jumping back. Only to laugh at the realization of who it was.

“Billy! What the hell are you doing here?” You whisper-shouted, stifling a laugh, “You nearly gave me a heart attack…” You trailed, running a hand through your wet-(h/c) locks.

A look of amusement fell on Billy’s face, “I’m sorry, (Y/n).. I couldn’t help but make my way over--” “Through the window?” You spoke, quirking a brow, folding your arms over one another, cutting your friend off.

He rolled his eyes, “Of course.. What better way to scare my best friend?”

You stuck out your tongue, letting your arms fall to the side.

“Alright, loser, what do you want, really? Because I know it wasn’t just to scare me..”

Billy was baffled, how could you possibly know he came here to talk to you about something? Was he that obvious?

“You’re obvious, Bil.. What is it?” You pouted, jumping onto your bed, patting the spot next to you for him to sit down.

Billy groaned, “How do you do that?” He muttered, sitting next to you.

“Do what?” You tilted your head to the side.

“How do you know when something is wrong?”

“Look, man, I’ve known you for how long?”

“Since we were in diapers..” He rolled his eyes, looking up at the ceiling.

“There’s your answer.” You giggled, “It’s Sidney, isn’t it?” You frowned, staring at him with big-doe eyes.

“Yeah..” He looked down, fiddling with his thumbs, “We used to be so hot and heavy, now it’s like I’m in a PG-13 movie, I can’t stand it.”

Your heart ached, not because of how he was feeling, but because you’ve had the biggest crush on him since the first year of highschool. You never understood why he went for Sidney, she is the complete opposite of him and is such a prude. It hurt hearing about their relationship…

“Ah, I see… Relationship problems… Lucky me…” You scoffed, Billy only chuckled, playfully punching you in the arm.

“Oh, C’mon.. You’re usually good at the whole… you know, advice stuff..” Billy spoke, getting up from the bed.

You licked your lips, averting your gaze elsewhere, not wanting to continue the conversation, “Look, Billy.. I really don’t know what to say that will help you, you’re talking to the wrong person, have you asked Stu?” You mumbled, and he shook his head.

“Oh..” Was all you could mutter, “I’m sorry, Bil, I wish I could help, but you should really get going. I have homework to finish.” You forced a smile, shoving him back towards the window, “And you really need to go..”

“(Y/n)?” Billy asked, noticing the change of demeanor. “Everything okay?”

You grinned, void of any emotion. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. My assignment is due tomorrow and it’s really kicking my ass…” You lied, well, not really. It truly was kicking your ass, but that wasn’t the reason your mood suddenly changed, it was the jealousy you felt.

“Oh, okay.” Billy laughed, nervously. “I guess I should have called first, I didn’t know you were busy..” He looked at you, studying your posture; trying to see if it was really what you said that was bothering you, but you were stoic, stiff like a cardboard box. You were hard to read.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

You nodded as he climbed out your window.

“Goodbye, Loomis…”

Next->

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russos-one · 21 days

Text

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Let her believe I never loved her (Part 1)

Inspired by Cigarettes Out The Window x Dangerously Yours - TV girl/That tiktok audio that goes “let her think I never loved her”

Summary- R has been hopelessly in love with Jessie ever since she joined Chelsea but has never had the courage to tell her and then it's too late

Warnings- Magda yelling in Swedish, R, Niamh and Sam being little shits, Jessie being a cutie pie, Fluff

Word count- 1783

A/N- Pretend Pernille and Magda never left because I miss them and that Sam never did her forbidden 3 letters

A/N- All the Swedish and Danish are from Google Translate and I have no idea if it is right or not

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Just tell her! What's the worst that could happen?” Niamh said to you “Well I don't know, maybe she doesn't like me back and there goes 3 and a half years of friendship!” you replied, "That wouldn't happen because she obviously likes you back!” “You don't know that! Now just get over it” you said as you turned around to continue packing your bag “You can't just avoid it for your whole life” you let out a sigh as you zipped up your bag “Yes I ca-” Suddenly there was a knock on the door of your shared hotel room. “Just drop it, Niamh” you said as you opened the door.

You were met with a smiling Jessie “Jessie! Hi” Niamh poked her head out from behind you and said “Hey Jessie” Jessie made eye contact with you and smiled “Hello Y/n” Niamh sighed loudly “Okay, just act like I'm not here I guess” Niamh jokingly said while rolling her eyes, Jessie broke eye contact with you and looked at Niamh “Hello to you too Niamh” said Jessie “Do you want to come in” you said to her while opening the door wider and moving to the side, “Unfortunately I can't, Emma sent me up here because you two are taking too long and the coach is about to leave” you turned to Niamh “Look what you did! Now Emma is mad at us and she's going to make us run extra laps!” you said, Niamh gasped “It's not my fault that you were too busy arguing with me about how in love with Je- Jumping jacks! How in love you are with jumping jacks " "Jumping jacks?” you turned back to Jessie “Yeah I just love jumping jacks in a workout” Jessie looked concernedly “Okay then! We need to get going” "Right” you grabbed your bag and dragged Niamh by her arm out of the hotel room and Jessie followed behind you while giggling at your actions.

The three of you made it to the coach and got met with an angry Emma Hayes “What were you two doing!? You know what, who cares just get in” she said while dragging you and Niamh in while Jessie followed closely behind “Y/n!” Magda called your name “You're sitting with me, come” she said while patting the seat next to her. You part ways with Jessie and Niamh and go to sit with Magda, you turn to her and say “I'm surprised you're not sitting with Pernille” “And choose her over you? Never; so, how's the love life going?” you sighed “It's non-existent” she sighed and said, “So we’re acting like your massive crush on Jessie doesn't exist?” You instantly turned red and turned to look at Jessie to see if she heard and she’s fast asleep while cuddling into her neck pillow, you turned back to Magda to scold her “What if she heard?!” “She is the deepest sleeper in the world I honestly don't even know how she fell asleep so fast and Y/n the chances of her hearing that are smaller than you telling her that you have a crush on her” You heard two gasps from behind your seat and it was followed closely by Millie and Sam butting their heads in between yours and Magda's seats “Are we finally addressing Y/n’s massively huge crush on baby Canada?” you turned to look at Millie and said, “Shhhhh, what if she hears?” “As if she's going to hear, she sleeps like a bear during hibernation” “How do you know what hibernation means?” “I just do; Now stop changing the subject!” you sighed and said “The subject of this conversation is not worth a subject continuing” while rolling your eyes and leaning further into your seat. “Please for the love of god just let me sleep, I get enough of this from Niamh and now you three” Niamh turned to look at the four of you “Hey! I heard my name! What are you four planning?” You released a groan “Nothing Niamh! Now go back to fantasising about your body pillow” Niamh looked stunned and the whole coach started giggling “Y/n’s lying! I don’t have a body pillow” she announced to the whole coach “Sure you don’t!” Sam said sarcastically. After some teasing everyone finally calmed down and you could finally relax. You turned to Jessie and took in her features, the freckles that littered her beautiful face, the way she let out light snores while she slept and the way she was dribbling a bit on her pillow; she couldn't look more beautiful suddenly you were broken from your trance by Magda saying “Your staring, creep” “I’m not staring! I’m appreciating beauty” “Mhmm, sureee” “Just leave me alone, I'm going to sleep” Sam butts her head in again and says “Mhmm so you can dream about your girlfriend” “Ooh la la” said Millie. You sighed and slowly succumbed to sleep.

“Y/n? Y/n, wake up” someone said to you while shaking your shoulder, you groaned and leaned further into your chair “Just let me sleep, please” You heard footsteps come towards you and someone saying “Here this will work” You heard giggling but you weren't bothered to open your eyes so you just kept them closed; out of nowhere you feel cold water hit your face and you jolt up, you open your eyes to find the culprit “Niamh! You bastard!” she started giggling “You weren't waking up! It was either that or a slap in the face” “I would rather have a slap in the face because you’re weak” Niamh gasped “I am not weak” From behind Niamh I see an angry Emma Hayes approaching “Ladies! What are you doing, we have a game to play in an hour and a half and one of you is soaking wet, and the other one is yelling that they're not weak! and then there's Jessie” Jessie lets out an awkward smile.

After some arguing and Emma dragging Niamh and me out of the coach while Jessie followed closely behind again, we made it inside the stadium. “So where are we going?’ you asked and turned to Niamh “Jessie where are we going?” asked Niamh while she turned to look at Jessie “Do you two never listen?” Sam came from behind the three of us “I truly don't know what you expect from dumb and dumber” Sam said while draping her arms over Niamh and I’s shoulders Jessie groaned “As if you can talk” “Blah blah blah. Anyways Jessie do you know where we are going, I was doing media with Emma and I got lost and now here I am” Jessie let out a breath “Children surround me” Sam gasped “I’m actually older than you so that makes you the child, these two though; she said while messing up Niamhs and I’s hair; they are children” my phone starts to buzz in my pocket “Sam shut up someones calling me” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and see that it is Magda calling me I answer and put her on speaker phone, “Hey Magdaaa! My favourite teammate” “I thought I was your favourite teammate?” mumbled Jessie “Where are you three??? And have you seen Sam??” “Hi, Magda” Sam said, “You four are in so much trouble!” “SamMadeUsGetLost” Niamh quickly said “Woah okay, so blame it on me? You guys were lost before I even came!” “Just shut up and get here” “And where exactly would ‘here’ be?” “The changing room!” Magda yelled to us and then ended the call “Anyone know where the changing room is?” you said “Ugh just follow me and DONT get lost” Jessie dragged Me, Sam and Niamh to the changing room

We entered and were met with an angry Magda, Millie dying of laughter and Zecira filming us “BLIR NI TRE NÅGONSIN DUMMARE? VI HAR ETT SPEL OM TREDTIO MINUTTER OCH DU GÅR TILL? JESSIE DU GJORDE INGET FEL MEN EN TIMMA; she said while pointing at me Niamh and Sam; KOMMER ATT GÅ I KOPPEL!” WILL YOU THREE EVER GET MORE STUPID? WE HAVE A GAME IN AN HOUR AND YOU'RE GETTING LOST? JESSIE YOU DID NOTHING WRONG BUT THESE THREE ARE BEING PUT ON A LEASH! Zecira fell to the floor crying with laughter. Sam whispered in my ear “Yo what the fuck did she just say?” I shrugged my shoulders and Pernille went behind Magda and pulled her back from the four of us while lightly giggling “Min elskede, they can't understand you” Magda looked like a ticking time bomb “Just go get dressed!” She said while pointing to our cubbies. The four of us went to our cubbies while we were changing. Magda came up from behind Sam and slapped her on the back of her neck “Stop getting the children lost” Sam looked offended “ Firstly, Ow! Secondly, they were lost when I found them”

We all got changed into our training kit and went to the pitch to warm up, we were put into duos and I got Jessie as my partner. I draped my arm over her shoulders “Why hello there, pretty lady” Jessie turned red but it is probably because it's cold. “Hello Y/n” We went to a free space on the pitch “Are you ready to dominate warm-ups?” I asked “Obviously” Jessie replied “High five” I said to her while putting my hand up for a high five “Seriously?” she responded, to which you said “Yes seriously” “Are you gonna trick me?” Jessie said sceptically, You gasped “Never!” Jessie gave you a high five “See, I told you I wasn't gonna trick you” “Surprisingly. Time to warm up before you get in trouble with Magda again” she said the two of you faced each other using each other as stability (Like that one tiktok of McFoord training together) “So, how's the love life going?” Jessie asked you, you let out a breath “The love life is non-existent” you replied as you switched legs, “What about Real Madrid's goalkeeper Misa? I saw you two talking after the game last week” she questioned, “Ooo, getting jealous are we?” you said to her jokingly. She lightly punched your shoulder “Ow!” you yelped, “That wasn't even hard! And I was just asking a question, “Nothing is going on between me and Misa, Misa and I have been friends ever since Alexia introduced us before the World Cup final, why do you ask?” you questioned “No reason” she replied, “Mhmmm, sure” You said sarcastically, “What do you mean ‘Mhmmm sure’? And why did you say it like that?” she asked, “No reason” you said to her.

#jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming #woso x reader #jflem #canwnt #woso #portland thorns

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hoes4lino · 8 months

Text

Late nights 🌃 | LMH

WARNING ⊂✦⊃ This story contains suggestive content, minor injuries, swearing as well as slut shaming (fluff?); minors please don’t interact, please beware of what you consume online.

Genre: Enemies to lovers

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: Who would say that after years of despising his existence he would end up in your bed.

Authors note: I’m a sucker for enemies to lovers. (Also I was lazy to spell check srry T-T)

. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓ . • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

It was around 3am on a Saturday morning, the dim lights of the city illuminating your room, the light sound of the rain hitting your window, it was the perfect set up to cuddle with your cat while you watched kdramas on your bed.

Your eyes felt heavy, your body was comfortable in the coziness of your bed, slowly closing them you felt how you drifted to a slumber sleep.

Maybe it was the loud thunder or the cries of you cat, but you jumped out of your bed, annoyed and scared as you heard your doorbell ringing nonstop. You walked towards the door slowly trying to make no sound.

Stumbling through the darkness you grabbed an umbrella, just in case you had to defend yourself— your mouth was slightly parted as you spotted the brun haired boy standing in front of your apartment door. His face had few bruises and scratches, seems like he got into a fight. He kept ringing the doorbell, you brain trying to decide whether you should open it or not.

You met Minho at a club about two years ago, he was a mutual friend— however, you two never seemed to click, always getting on each others neck; you didn’t really considered him a friend but he was always around cause he was part of your friend group.

The sudden silence that echoed your apartment made you snap out of your thoughts, peeping again through the peephole you spotted him with a concerned face as he stared to his side, panic filling his eyes.

In that moment you knew he was in desperate need of help, you snatched open your door and pulled him in, locking your door and hoping whatever was after him didn’t notice he went inside your apartment.

“Took you long enough” He scoffed, carefully touching his busted lips. You looked at him up and down annoyed, some of his wounds were dripping blood and his cloth were dirty “Don’t make me snitch on you” He smirked as he leaned forward “I know you are an asshole but you would never” He said with his raspy voice— You simply rolled your eyes at him, looking at him from head to toes once again.

“Why are you here?” You questioned him, arms wrapping in front of you chest— you looked pissed “None of your business” he spat, making you scoff once again “It is when you come to my house beaten up at 3am” You said in disbelief.

A small smile adorned his face as he looked at you mischievously, he always loved pushing your buttons, it gave him some sort of satisfaction “You won’t like the real reason of why I’m here. So lets pretend am being chased by a thief” Your eyes widen in disbelief “A thief chasing you?!? And you brought him to my apartment building? You want to get me killed or something? He shrugged and looked at you “maybe? It was the first place that came to mind”

You seriously couldn’t stand him, how dare he come to your apartment this late all beaten up and with a criminal chasing after him. It was also the audacity he had to talk about it like it wasn’t a big deal.

“You are seriously going to kill me someday” You sighed as you grabbed his arm and walked him to your bathroom “What are you doing” You signaled him to sat on the toilet “Isn’t it obvious?” You said annoyed as you searched for a first aid kit in the bathroom drawer.

He looked at you as you grabbed a towel and poured some hydrogen peroxide. You were wearing your silk pijama dress, it looked as delicate as you, your puffy eyes and messy hair gave him a hint that you were probably sleeping before he came to interrupt.

You walked towards him and kneeled in front of him, snapping him out of his thoughts once you carefully tapped the towel on his face. He hissed at the contact, the hydrogen peroxide burning his skin “Fuck” he yelp “Don’t be a bitch be gentle” he spat as he grabbed the counter besides him.

You laughed at his squirming “Stop being a baby” You teased— He straighten his body and looked deeply into your eyes “Im not a baby” He scoffed, swallowing his pain. It was quiet for a second, his heartbeat and breathing being audible, for some reason it brought you some kind of comfort.

“You need to stop staying too late at clubs” you mumbled while continuing to clean his wounds. He rolled his eyes “Aweee you care about me??” He said in a playful tone while tilting his head, a smug adorning his face.

You shook your head “Don’t make this about yourself, I’m just saying so you never come back to my house at this hours” He doesn’t know why but your words sting his heart, He doesn’t want to admit it but it does.

He scoffed “Says the slut that always passes out at the clubs” You stop cleaning him and looked at him, anger filling your eyes “What did you say?” He leaned closer to your face “I’m pretty sure you heard me loud and clear” He gave you a thin smile.

You never knew why Minho was like this, always defensive. No matter the situation— he always had something to say about you “I don’t get why you are being so defensive right now” You say softly as your gaze moves back to his scratches, this time pressing the towel hard on his wounds. He hisses and throws his head back.

“You did that on purpose” He groans, his eyes tight shut “Did I? I’m sorry” You proceed to press even harder, liquid dripping from the towel to his wounds. He moves one of his hands to grabs yours, both of you forcing against each other.

“Let go” You hissed, trying to remove your hand from his strong grip, however, he wouldn’t budge “I’m tired of you” He said out of nowhere, you stop forcing and looked at him confused. “Excuse me? You tired of me? You are the one interrupting my sleep” At this point you thought Minho was a social experiment to test how long it would take for you to reach your limit.

It was quiet for a minute until he started talking “You are always batting your pretty lashes at anyone who walks your way” He probably noticed by your face that you were confused as hell in that moment, he scoffed “Now you are pretending you don’t know” You tilted your head to lock eyes with his “I know what you mean, I’m aware of my actions, however I don’t get how that involves you” He took a deep breath and mumbled something you didn’t quite catch.

“Oh c’mon, let’s be for real” He doesn’t really know why this conversation is frustrating him so much, its not like he cared or at least thats what he told himself “I was at our usual club making out with this hot chick when I heard the people besides us talking about you” He stopped his words, his hands turning into fists

“They were talking some nasty shit about you” He scoffed leaning his face closer to yours “Now don’t get me wrong, It’s not like I care about you, but the way they see you as a dirty little slut pissed me off” Minho didn’t realize he was still holding your arm until you squirmed at his grip, he let you go and gave you apologetic eyes before continuing “I stood up and next thing I know I was fighting against 5 guys, funny thing is not the first time I defend you like that”

You were aware of your flirty persona, always giving men false hopes in exchange of free drinks, however, you never expected for people to gather around and slut shame you. You have never slept with someone after a clubbing night, you were disgusted and uncomfortable, you didn’t like the image that was going on around about you.

Your gaze moved back to Minho’s he had a face of disgust, you were unsure if his expression was like that because of you or because of what those guys were doing, either way it didn’t feel nice.

Seeing that no words were coming out of your mouth he continued talking “Im so tired of protecting you behind your back” He sighed “I’m always getting in trouble because you can’t keep your cunt dry” Although you appreciate his gesture of protecting you— it pisses you off the way he is talking to you, personally you believe theres better ways to say this type of things.

“Well I never asked for your help did I?” You threw the towel to the side and stood up, his body mimicking yours and following you to the kitchen. You grabbed a cup of water and took a sip of it “So what? Should I just sit there and hear how they treat you like a slut?” He scoffed. Those words marked you limit, your body automatically throwing the cup of water to his face, your face was red in anger.

His laugh echoed in your head like an annoying fly, he tried drying his face as you stood up there looking how he laugh uncontrollably. You hated the way he could make you feel like nothing in matter of seconds, tears threaten to fall from your eyes but you refused to let him see you cry.

“I’m sorry” he chuckled “Im aware I crossed the line, however…” He walked closer to you, making you stumble as you take few steps back until your back hit the counter “You seriously need to stop giving me troubles, I just know they banned me from that club” He sighed frustrated, you look at him for a second noticing a drop of blood rolling down his chin from his lip.

Gently you swiped the blood away with your finger “Let me get you a band aid” The atmosphere felt dense, it was awkward. He genuinely felt bad for crossing the line, however, he wasn’t good with words so he had no clue how to apologize.

You took him again to the bathroom finishing to clean his wounds, as you finished up by putting a band aid on the corner of his lip you spoke “You should stay for the night” You spoke softly looking at his eyes “But… I took my couch to the dry clean so… you can stay on my bed” His initial answer was to reject the offer and walk home, however, he felt like he was under a spell as you spoke to him so softly so… caring.

He cursed under his breath, eyes looking at you unsure “Are you sure you are comfortable with that?” He questioned afraid this was some type of prank— You slightly nodded “Knowing the type of crybaby you are I can’t make you walk home covered in wounds, I just know you will accuse me with Jisung” You scoff, cleaning up the area. He chuckled “You have a good point right there”

. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓ . • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

It was around 6am you could feel the light sunlight creeping in your curtains, you groan your eyes slowly opening. You tried to move, however, you couldn’t— you look down to see what was stopping you, your breath hitching as you see Minho’s arm wrapped around your waist. That’s when it hit you. The soft breath hitting your neck, he was cuddling you in his sleep.

You tried to ignore it, his arm around your waist, his warm breath hitting your neck, the way your pajama dress rolled up to your mid ass. But there was one thing you couldn’t ignore. His morning wood, the way it was pressed against your almost bare ass.

You closed your eyes shut trying to think on other things, get some distraction. You hated to admit you were getting turned on by the second. Your body froze as you felt him shifting on the bed, his body only pressing closer towards yours, he snuggled his head on the crook of your neck.

He mumbled softly “Are you awake?” His words tickled your neck, slightly squirming under him. You nodded, you couldn’t dare and use your words, afraid your voice might sound shaky or unstable. He hummed at your response “Im sorry…” He lightly rubbed your belly with his thumb “I can’t control it” He said embarrassed, slowly moving away from your body.

“Do you mind if I use your shower?” He asked his eyes wide open looking at the ceiling “Sure” You said nonchalantly, slightly disappointed at the lack of his body warmth. He stood up and left to the shower, after that you two shared breakfast. It was rather silent as you both drank your coffee, no one knew what to say or what to do…

The moment he left your apartment you felt a weight leaving your shoulders— you could finally breathe in peace, you look down to stare at the kitty rubbing against your legs, “What am I going to do” You squirmed running to your bedroom. Once there you threw yourself on your bed, kicking your feet and screaming on the pillow replaying the moment in your head. You grabbed your phone to call your best friend asap.

You hoped she would kick some sense into you… however, she left you feeling even more confused about Minho, her words being “Maybe you too should have sex to break the tension” The thought of having sex with Minho made you wanna puke, not in a bad way but in a way you can’t really describe.

. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓ . • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Literally what the hell is wrong with you” You snatched your arm from his grip. You where at a frat party with your friends, you were hooking up with someone when Minho basically dragged you to an empty room.

“What’s wrong with me? More like whats wrong with you” He snarked back, his eyes looking like big dark orbs. “Well I was having some fun until you came” You said at him annoyed, you have no idea what his business was here but it was pissing you off.

He chuckled, his laugh echoing in the whole room “If by having fun you mean sleeping with anyone, then go ahead” He gesture his hands towards the exit. His attitude make you confused and mad, your eyes rolling as he kept his gaze focus on yours.

“Look Minho” You took a deep breath trying to keep yourself well collected “I don’t know what your business is right now but maybe and Yeji was right when she said to fuck you to break the tension” You spat at him, your body straightened and arms crossed over your chest. He took a moment to process your words, his mouth slightly parting to say something when you spoke again.

“You are literally so annoying, always treating me like a god damn child, also picking up a fight with me, like get a damn lif-” Your words were interrupted as his lips crashed on yours, his body pushing you towards the door.

His lips felt soft and smooth against yours, his gentle touch on your face felt angelical. A moan escaped your lips as you felt his tongue touching the bottom of your lip as for asking permission to enter. The more passionate the kiss got the wetter and messy it got. Whimpers and kissing sounds lingered around the room, the back ground music from the party adding to the vibe.

The whole situation was a mess, two people that didn’t like each other craving for each other touch— its funny how unexpected life is… isn’t it?

He sat you on his lap, your hips grinding on his thigh begging for friction. He caressed your body so gently, god damn he was driving you insane. He was trying to engrave every sensation into his brain, taking in your scent, your vanilla perfumed combined with the intoxicating smell of tequila. He gasped in delight, slowly pecking your neck and nibbling your ear.

“I hate you” He groaned as you moved your hand down to touch his boner, you chuckled “Always had an impact on me like you put me on some type of smell” He whispered against your ear as he placed his hands on yours hips to help you get some friction.

You threw your head back and moaned slightly “I hate that you are not mine” He said softly, his words making you stop to look at him. His look. In that moment you felt like you were the most gorgeous woman in this earth.

The way he looked softly at you with his eyes. Minho was bad with feelings but his eyes never lie. You took a moment to process the situation, your neck felt sore, probably adorned with a couple hickeys. Your lips were plumped. The man you were sitting on had a lipstick trail from his face to his chest. His white shirt was unbuttoned, his hair was messy.

Was this a dream? You confirmed it wasn’t when he kissed you again this time, slowly more passionate… it felt intimate yet slutty. That kiss unveiled a thousand feelings that were trapped in a jar of hate. “God damn I can’t let go” He said in between kisses while groaning.

You were both getting drunk on each other, it was a passionate feeling you have never experienced before, the fact he was someone you thought you hated with your whole soul made it more intriguing… more risky.

You two were so captive by the moment that the laugh echoing behind you was ignored by your brain until a bright light illuminated the room. Both of you jumping off each other to stare as Jisung and Yeji who were laughing their asses off.

Yeji stopped laughing to groan at Jisung “Guess I owe you $50 now” She rolled her eyes handing the money to Jisung, who kissed the money and placed it on his pocket. Jisung giggled, slowly walking out with Yeji “You too keep doing your lovers thing” He teased before closing the door.

Minho and you shared an embarrassed look before laughing “Why don’t we move this matter to my house?” You said in a mischievous tone “I don’t know what you are talking about” He teased, while buttoning his shirt “But I would love to” He smiled at you genuinely before reaching to grab your hand and walk out of the party.

#lee know #skz smut #skz fluff #lee know fluff #lee know smut #stray kids #lee know imagines #leeknow smut #minho smut #enemies to lovers #lee minho smut #lee know x reader #leeknow imagine #oneshot #shu porang porang linos

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gilverrwrites · 2 months

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Could you make a Sam Winchester having erotic dreams with his female best friend?

Author Note: Hello! I hope you don't mind, but I combined this request with your other request for Dean in the same scenario (and added Cas cause 😍) I'm also working on a separate fic for Dean having erotic dreams about a rival per that request. I really hope you enjoy! ❤️

Rating: M/18+

Words: 1940 (Dean 685, Sam 685, Cas 570)

Request Info | Masterlist | Ko-Fi

It's a total coincidence that Dean and Sam are both 685 each!

Please remember: To focus on the things that make you happy.

Dean Winchester

“Oooh yes Dean, yes, that’s it.” Your voice sounds hoarse and breathy. Makes sense cause you’ve been moaning like that, praising like that all night. “You like that baby?” Dean asks from beneath you, completely entranced by the bounce of your breasts and the sway of your hips as you ride him. “You like fuckin’ yourself on my dick baby?” “Yes, Dean, yes! You feel so fucking good. Make me feel so good.” You chant, and when your head rolls back in ecstasy, Dean follows. His fingers grip at your skin, forcing you against him as he ruts into you, spilling himself inside.

That was last night’s dream. The most recent in a string of dreams that left him hot and bothered every morning. The worst part was facing you. Trying to look you in the eye, discuss a case, or make a game plan without thinking about you naked and moaning on his dick.

He’d been avoiding you as much as possible, but sometimes just your name was enough to make him pop a boner, much like the one he had now. He positioned his beer bottle over his offending member and forced himself to stare out the window, averting his gaze from the sight of you, bent over the nearest pool table.

“Hey, what’s up with you?” The sound of your voice made him jump. Man, how out of it was he?

“What?” He looked up at you, hands on hips, staring down at him. The sight made his lips dry. “Oh nothin’, I think I’ve had too many. Maybe I should call it a night.”

“You’ve had like two drinks. That barely even touches the sides.” You state, and you’re not wrong. You know him too well. He can’t help clenching his jaw as you sit down across from him. When he sees how your new angle offers him a perfect shot of your cleavage, he thinks he might start grinding away his teeth. “Anyway, that’s not what I meant.”

“What do you mean then?” He leans in closer. Not to be closer, but he hopes leaning forward might help hide the bulge in his jeans.

“You’ve been acting funny, and avoiding me all wee-“

“N-“

“Don’t interrupt. Yes, you have.” You punctuate your statement by placing your drink on the table. You don’t slam, but it's hard and firm enough to communicate your point. “Don’t you try to deny it Dean Winchester! I know you too well. You’ve been avoiding me, and when you can’t get away you’re all squirrely and quiet. Now tell me what’s going on.”

He drains his beer as he thinks it over. Partly to try and return some moisture to his mouth but primarily to buy himself some time while he thinks things over. If he’s honest, he might get something out of it. A one-night stand, a fuck buddy, maybe more? Or he might lose you, which he couldn’t stand.

“I…”

“Come on Dean, whatever it is, we’ll get through it. We always do.”

Fuck it. You’re right. He gestures to the bartender for another round, takes a deep breath, and spills. And a funny thing happens: he starts to feel more relaxed as he lets it out. If you’re not into it, that’s fine. So long as it doesn’t scare you off.

When he’s done, he watches you as you process his confession. Man, he loves the way your face moves when you’re thinking.

“So…” You purse your lips and take a quick sip of your drink as you prepare your response. “What’s the problem? Do you not want to sleep with me?”

“No, I do. Obviously, you’re…” hot, incredible, the only woman I want. Unable to voice any of the thoughts in his head at that moment, he gestures to you, head to toe and back again. “I just don’t want it to cause problems between us. Our friendship”

“Then we won’t let it.” You state matter-of-factly. “Now, are you gonna take me back to the bunker so we can fuck each other dumb or not?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Sam Winchester

His fingers are knuckle deep inside of you as you lay back, spread out across his bed. “Fuckkk… Sam!” You look up at him, eyes hazy, hair a mess, and he can feel his dick throb in response. “Sam, I’m so full.” “Poor baby.” He coos in response. “So full already, and I’ve barely even touched you.” He watches the way your expression melts at his words with pride, when he sees your lips start to form your reply, he places a direct smack to your clit. The whine you release is music to his ears. The way you wither and moan as he begins to play with your clit, fuck, you’re so hot. “Are you ready for more?” He asks. He’s pleased when you begin vigorously nodding. “Yes, Sam! Yes! Yes, please!”

Years of impersonating officials and hustling at almost every bar he stopped at had earned Sam a more than convincing poker face. But you always saw right through it.

For that reason, Sam had been bending over backwards to avoid you. He wasn’t totally sure what he was hiding, the fact that he’d dreamed about you, or the fact that he’d furiously masturbated to the memory of it upon waking up. Either way, he wasn’t ready to face you.

He’d hung back in the morning, grabbing his breakfast later than usual. Gone to the local library all day to research, citing a change of scenery when Dean questioned him, and had gone grocery shopping as an excuse to stay out later.

After unpacking the shopping, he’d hopped in the shower, making up for skipping his usual morning routine.

What he hadn’t accounted for was finding you, dressed in nothing but your panties and one of his t-shirts, in the centre of his bed. The very bed he’d vividly fantasised about pleasing you in.

It wasn’t an unusual sight. You were his best friend after all. You often hung out in each other’s rooms, and you frequently borrowed his shirts. He just really could have done without all this today.

“Hey Sam.” You greeted him with a smile, looking up from your laptop. “I missed you today.”

“Hey.” He responds awkwardly. Both hands clutching at his towel. He clears his throat before continuing. “Yeah, I was busy I guess. You too.”

“No worries.” You assure him before returning your gaze to your screen. “I could use your help with something if that’s alright?”

“Sure.” He approaches the bed. Certain close proximity will escalate his predicament he resolves to remain standing. However, looking down at you, with your head so close to his crotch, is equally stirring something within him. Reluctantly, he sits beside you. He glances at your computer briefly but quickly becomes preoccupied with adjusting and readjusting his towel, determined to cover the growing erection beneath.

“So, I’ve been looking into the apple of Sodom for Claire but…” he swears he meant to listen, but he’d never noticed how good you smell before, or how your skin glows even under the dingy light of his room. “Sam? Sam are you even listening?”

“Yeah, of course.” He finally tunes back in. “Apple of Sodom, Claire… hand of God?”

He looks into your eyes to judge his improv, but you’re staring, wide-eyed, right at the thing he’s been trying to hide.

“Is that- are you…” You look at his face, and he can feel the heat spreading across his cheeks. “For- because of me?”

“I’m sorry!” He stands, pausing to compose his words before continuing his apology. “I just, I had this dream last night about you, and it’s all I’ve been able to think about all day. I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s wrong.”

“Why is it wrong?”

“Because you’re my friend. My best friend.”

“Right.” You always saw right through him, but fortunately, that was a two-way skill, and right now, he could hear, he could feel the disappointment you were radiating.

“Unless…” he cocks a brow at you, and your body immediately perks up. You look up at him, eyes hazy, identical to his dream. “Do you want this too?”

Castiel

You’re a vision on your knees before him, eyes watering, cheeks puffed out, hair tangled between his fingers. He stares intently, relishing in all the subtle movements of your faces as he lazily pumps his penis between your lips. His grip grows tighter every time he feels the back of your throat against his tip. Your muffled pants and moans are music to his ears. The way your lips glisten beneath the sheen of your own saliva is erotic, and he worries the sight of you alone will be enough to make him finish before he’s really begun.

It’s that vision he’s thinking of now as he watches you on your hands and knees, scrubbing a chalk pentagram off the floor.

He’s brought out of his chain of thoughts by the sound of your voice. “Is there something on my face?”

“No.” He squints at your face; he is confident it looks fine, more than fine, beautiful in fact, but he examines it in more depth, nonetheless. “There is nothing on your face. In fact, your face is quite adequate.”

“Quite adequate, I’ll take that as high praise.” You laugh. He’s not certain what’s so funny, but the sound is exquisite, and only further fuels the unfamiliar fiery feeling he’s experiencing. “But seriously, why are you staring at me?”

Your line of questioning makes sense to him now. He briefly considers lying to you, but on the spot he cannot think of anything convincing. “I slept last night.”

“I didn’t know Angels did that.” It’s not a question, but he has learned many human cues during his time on Earth. You’re digging for more information.

“We can, but we do not need to, so typically we don’t. I thought I might trial it to see if it would help in replenishing my grace.” He answers.

“Did it help?” Your inquisitiveness is ceaseless. It is something he has always liked about you.

“No.” He replies, he enjoys the brief frown of disappointment you give in response. “I did however, dream of you.”

“Ahh, and what did me and my quite adequate face do in your dream?” You’re smiling again as you scrub at a particularly stubborn stain. He notices the unintentionally alluring way you chew at your bottom lip and is immediately reminded of the way you had looked in his dream, as you waited in anticipation for him to expose his genitals.

He allows himself to wonder how you will react to his next statement; he hopes you’ll be as excited and pliable as you had been in his fantasy. “You were nude, on your knees, performing fellatio on my, well, my vessels penis.”

“Oh!” You respond in a tone that he believes to be humorous and a little surprised. Until you look down at your knees, considering your precarious position. “Oooooh.”

You don’t say anything else, nor do you look back up at him. He begins to worry that he may have said something inappropriate, or that you thought he had disliked the experience.

“It was an enjoyable dream, if that is your concern.” He attempts to offer comfort.

“Well, I suppose that’s good news.” You nod to yourself; your tone gives nothing away. “I wonder if my real-life skills are as enjoyable as your fantasies.”

“I wouldn’t know, we have never…” His line of speech, his thoughts are interrupted by the enticing sight of you crawling towards him. “Oh.”

#supernatural reader insert #supernatural imagine #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #castiel x reader #supernatural x reader #spn imagine #gilverrwrites

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valleydean · 8 months

Text

The Beginning

Story by: valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) Art by: sidewinder @hawkland

Rating: Explicit

Word count: ~118k

Tags/archive warnings: endverse, zombie apocalypse, graphic depictions of violence, blood and gore, drug use, animal death, Dean POV, Cas POV, Castiel's loss of angelic grace, newly human Castiel, jealous Dean, fear of abandonment, angst, rough sex, body horror, internalized homophobia, denial, minor Cas/OC, drugs as a coping mechanism, sex as a coping mechanism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn, slow build, codependency

Summary: One year ago, soon after Lucifer was freed from the Cage, Dean and Sam parted ways. Since then, Dean has been hunting on his own and, along with Cas despite his declining grace, searching for a way to prevent the apocalypse. When the outbreak of the Croatoan virus begins, Dean and Cas head to Bobby’s to plan their next move. On the way, as the contagion rapidly spreads through America, they must contend with the rabid infected, martial law, and humans who will do anything to ensure their own survival.

Preview:

Cas stepped to the other side of the door and turned around to face Dean. Dean stopped walking, looking forward at Cas and waiting for him to say anything at all.

When he did, it was, “In there.”

Dean pulled his brows together, his eyes flashing to the dark window panel in the door. The directional light of his flashlight bounced off of it, obscuring whatever was inside. The glass was a deeply black mirror.

His gut clenched, feeling like someone had shoved their hand into his intestines and was trying to rip them out. He slowly brought his face closer to the window. His transparent reflection stared back pensively. He looked beyond it, squinting and refocusing his eyes.

There were bodies in there—maybe three of four. He couldn’t really tell. Some of them were in pieces. Pools of blood soaked them, glinting like a knife in the moonlight that fought its way through the dirty windows.

Dean opened his mouth, about to ask what the hell happened.

Something slammed against the other side of the glass. A bloody hand. Dean jumped back, his shout echoing down the hall. It shattered the bubble of silence—so, too, did the banging on the glass as the man inside tried to beat his way out of the room. His dripping red fists pounded incessantly, leaving smears on the window. He was giving off animalistic grunts and hisses.

“What the…” Dean said, his heart still in his throat. He looked at Cas, demanding an answer. Part of him wanted to blame Cas, to ask him why the hell he slaughtered people and left them in a room. But maybe they weren’t people. Then, what? Demons? Monsters?

Something didn’t add up.

The man kept doing everything he could to bust through the glass. Dean noticed the paring knife clutched in his fist.

Cas didn’t kill those people.

“I led them here and locked them inside,” Cas said, as if he’d read Dean’s mind. “They killed each other.”

The lines of Dean’s forehead bunched up when he lifted his brows in surprise. There was something he was missing. It felt like a forgotten word on the tip of his tongue. A distorted memory from a faded dream.

“You’ve seen this before,” Cas supplied. “The Croatoan virus.”

The words hit Dean like a truck. Blanching, he said, “Croatoan? You mean, the thing that turns everybody into Jack Torrance?”

“No, the demon virus that triggers murderous actions in anyone who contracts it,” Cas corrected, and Dean was still too busy freaking out to tell Cas they pretty much said the same thing. Pressing his lips together, Cas turned his gaze on the door, and there was a subdued kind of despondency in them, like he was trying to control how much emotion he showed on his face. “It’s one of the signs of the apocalypse. This is Lucifer’s doing. He unleashed the Horseman Pestilence.”

“Pestilence,” Dean echoed, the word taking a long time to process. He remembered, thirteen months ago, when he and Sam cut the ring off War’s fingers. That had been the day he and Sam parted ways. Dean hadn’t seen his brother since. He’d only talked to him once on the phone, when Sam called him a few weeks later to tell Dean that Lucifer wanted him as his meatsuit.

Dean rattled his head, trying to shake loose any thoughts of Sam. He focused on Cas saying, “The entire town’s been infected.”

Dean remembered how quickly the virus spread—and how it spread. An infected person had to bleed into someone’s open wound. Once the blood mixed, that was it. Soon after, the victim would turn into a one-track-mind, bloodthirsty monster.

He glanced back at the doorway. The man was still standing behind the glass, looking at Dean like he was lunch, but at least he’d stopped pounding on the window.

“It isn’t the only one,” Cas continued. “There are pockets of the virus across America—possibly the world.”

How hadn’t Dean heard about this? His chest felt too small, like his ribcage was shrinking around his heart and lungs. “Where’d it start?”

“I don’t know.”

Coming this October to @deancashorrorfest

#deancashorrorfest #destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #endverse #siderwinder art #destiel fanart #deancas fanart #horror au #my writing #hawkland

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octoberclidan · 3 months

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You're Family to Us

Request: Hi! I am absolutely in love with your characters , hats off to your writing skills!!¡¡

Could you write something where the reader goes missing on mission and is held captive by some mythical creatures of your choice. After months she is finally found. She is very weak and traumatized. All scratch marks , bite marks claw marks etc depending on the creature. Frail, weak , dehydrated , malnourished barely able to stand without passing out first....The team nurses her back to health. Sam especially!

Lots of comfort❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader, Castiel x Reader (platonic)

Masterlist

Story:

She didn't know how long she'd been down there, in the tiny, dark, damp cellar. She didn't even know where she was, having been knocked unconscious before waking up here. She'd been on her way to visit the Winchesters and Cas, her found family, when she'd been attacked from behind at a gas station not long after the sun had set. One minute, she was filling up her tank for the last leg of her journey, and the next, she was in the cellar and aching all over in darkness. She'd been driving to the bunker to help them out with a case of disappearing people not far from where the bunker was, and now she was one of the victims.

She was sitting on the uneven stone ground, her back pressed against the one spot of wall that she'd found to be the least uncomfortable. She had her eyes closed and was hugging her legs, trying to keep in some sort of warmth. She'd searched every part of the small room at least five times, but the four walls were solid stone, the door was locked tight, and there were no windows. The only glimpse she had to the outside world was a small hole in the corner of the ceiling, which was letting in a steady trickle of rainwater from outside. It had been raining on and off since she'd been trapped in there. The droplets of water hitting the floor, and the whistle from the wind passing over the hole were the only sounds she'd heard going on three days now, or maybe it was four, since they had last came into the room. There had been another man in the room when she'd first woken up. He was scared, confused, drained. All she could get out of him was that these people, these creatures, would come into the room every few days and weaken him. He had said that someone else was in the room when he first arrived, and they were now gone. He told her that he'd soon be gone, and then so would she. The next time the creatures came into the room after she'd woken up, they took him, and she'd been alone ever since.

She no longer felt hunger, that pain had come and gone, but she was thirsty. She'd tried drinking the rain water but it wasn't enough to quench her thirst, just enough to keep her alive. She hadn't slept much either, every time she dozed off, her head would scrape against the wall or the floor and she'd wake again. The only thing that was giving her hope was the fact that the boys were expecting her, and she knew they would've started to look for her the moment they realised she was late and couldn't get in contact with her. Only several months previous, Sam had insisted she let him track her phone. He promised he'd only use it if she got into trouble, that he had the same thing set up for Dean, Cas, and himself, and that it had helped before. She was thankful now that she'd agreed to it; at least they'd know that she was at that gas station when she'd gone missing.

She pulled up her sleeve to check on her wounds. When she'd first woken up, her arms were stinging and covered in long cuts. Her mind had immediately jumped to claw marks from whatever had grabbed her. Some of them looked like they were healing, but there was one in particular on her right arm that she knew was infected. It was hot, red, and swollen. It was the largest of the cuts, running all the was from her shoulder down to her elbow. She wasn't able to move her right arm without a pain searing through it. She gently used her left hand to pull the sleeve back down after confirming that the infection wasn't improving. If she wasn't going to die of thirst or hunger, that cut was going to be the end of her.

***

She had become so tired that she could no longer keep her eyes open. She didn't even register the sound of the door opening, or the sound of footsteps on the found. She was startled by hands on her shoulders, shaking her. She tried to push them off with her good arm, but it was useless, their grip was too tight. Whoever they belonged to was shouting at her, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. Her eyes stayed closed as she tried asking what was going on, but it came out as an unrecognisable mumble.

"Cas! Get in here!"

"Sam? Is she in here?" Cas walked into the room, his angel blade at the ready, to find Sam kneeling down on the floor in front of [Y/N], who was slouched against the wall. He quickly walked over to them and crouched down, placing his hand on her forehead and closing his eyes in concentration.

"Can you heal her?" Sam's voice was desperate, and his hope fell away as he watched Cas shake his head.

"I'm sorry Sam, my grace is still low after that incident last week. I can sense that she's very weak, she needs food and water and her wound is infected. We need to get her back to the bunker, now".

"Where's Dean?" Sam asked as Cas stood back up.

"He's checking to see if there are any more, but I think we've killed all of them. I'll tell him we found her, can you get her to the car on your own?" He asked as he put his blade back into his coat. He waited for Sam to nod before leaving the room. Sam looked back at [Y/N], taking in how thin and ashen she was. His heart broke for her, seeing like this.

"Okay, come on, let's get you out of here". He reached around her back to pull her towards him, slipping his arm under her knees and standing up with her. "Shit", he muttered as he realised how light she was, he knew she had a long recovery ahead of her. Not wasting any more time, he headed out to get back to the car.

***

"[Y/N]?" Dean jogged over to Sam as he saw him come out of the building. He froze as he got closer, taking in her appearance. "Fuck", he ran his hand through his short hair, furrowing his eyebrows at her and then clenching his fists. "What the fuck did they do to her?"

"I don't know, can we just get her home? I just want to get her out of here", Sam said as he walked past Dean to the car, where Cas was waiting with the back door open. Sam maneuvered her into the back bench of the car, sliding in behind her and pulling her over to hold his arm around her. He could tell that she was awake but just too weak to open her eyes or speak, so he wanted to try and keep her as comfortable as possible. Her head lay on his shoulder and she only stirred slightly when Dean started the engine up. "You're safe now, we've got you", he whispered before kissing the top of her head. He relaxed slightly when he heard her sigh in relief.

Dean, Sam, and Cas were all beyond angry that they hadn't found her sooner.

***

[Y/N] groaned. Her head hurt, her body ached, but she scrunched her face in confusion as she realised she was no longer thirsty. Her eyes snapped open as she felt her hand being squeezed, and she heard someone talking at her. Everything was blurry, she could only make out a large figure in front of her, and she could only hear a deep rumble coming from it, no words. She started to panic, sitting up and trying to pull her hand back, pushing herself backwards until her hand hit air and she was falling. She hit the ground with a thump and her bad arm felt like it was on fire as it took the brunt of her fall. The figure was immediately crouching over her, blocking out the light on the ceiling, and her panic now mixed with pain as she cradled her arm against her chest.

"Breathe, [Y/N]", she was finally able to make out a word from the blurry figure, and the voice sounded somewhat familiar. "You're in the bunker, you're safe, nothing is going to hurt you, okay?"

"D...Dean?" She tried to focus her eyes, slowly making out concerned green eyes staring into hers.

"Yeah, it's me, see?" He reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing in gently. "Let's get you back onto the bed, okay? Come on, easy now". He reached around her back to hoist her back up, taking care to avoid putting any pressure onto her bad arm. She winced as she settled back down onto the bed. "I'm gonna check your arm, we had to stitch it up, I just need to check that you didn't pull any stitches with that fall", he said as he started to reach up to her chest. She looked down and spotted a blue material that she recognised as one of Sam's flannels, and Dean began to unbutton it. He carefully pulled her arm out of the sleeve, muttering apologies as she winced again at the movement.

She noticed that she was also wearing a clean tank top, and her mind briefly wondered which one of them had changed her clothes. Given the fact that she was wearing Sam's flannel, she figured it must have been him, and she felt comforted by the thought that she was being taken care of. "Okay, looks like two stitches need to be redone, you're bleeding a bit just above your elbow. Are you in pain?"

"Um", she cleared her throat as her voice came out raspy, it had been awhile since she'd used it properly. "A little".

"Okay. I can give you some painkillers, we've been giving them to you as much as the dosage allows, and you should be due some now anyway. Hang on one second". He let go of her hand and walked over to a cabinet, and she looked around to see that she was in the bunker's infirmary.

"How long have I been here?" She asked as he walked back over to the bed, two pills in his hand and reaching towards the glass of water on the bedside table.

"Uh, three days. You've kinda been in and out of consciousness for a lot of it, and not really with it when you're awake. Cas has tried to heal as much as he can, but his grace is still regenerating after a run in with a witch not long before we found you. He's only really been able to heal the infection, but the cut is still pretty deep and we want to stop it from getting infected again". He handed her the pills and water and pulled a stool over to sit beside her, and opened a suture kit that had been sitting on the table. Once she'd put the glass back down, he opened his hand for her to lay her arm in. "You good?" He asked as he took out an alcohol wipe to clean it. She nodded and he got to work.

He was finishing up the second stitch when she heard footsteps coming towards the infirmary, and suddenly she was feeling anxious, but she relaxed a little when Sam walked in. "Hey, you're awake", he smiled at her, though his smile didn't reach the concern in his eyes.

"Hey, uh, yeah", she smiled back, and took her arm back once Dean had let go and was packing the kit up again.

"How do you feel?" He asked as he walked over to them. "I'm sorry it took us so long to find you, they brought you to a pretty secluded area. We found your phone at the gas station", he nodded to a table on the far side of the room, where she could see her bag and phone. "Your car's in the garage too". He took Dean's place once Dean stood up, quietly leaving to give them space to catch up.

"I'm a bit... foggy? I don't know, kinda confused. How long was I gone?"

"Two months", Sam grimaced at her wide-eyed reaction. "I promise you, [Y/N], we haven't rested since you went missing. We spent every day trying to find you, we would never give up on you". He grabbed her hand, hoping that she would believe him. "I hate seeing you like this, I'm so sorry".

"Sam", she shook her head. "You have nothing to be sorry for. We've all been captured and we've all had hunts go sideways on us. It's part of the job".

"Yeah but I asked you for help on the case, none of this would have happened if I hadn't called you".

"Sam, stop, okay? It's..." She coughed and cleared her throat. "It's not your fault". She coughed again, harder this time and Sam stood up and pulled his phone out of his pocket. With his free hand, he rubbed her back as he flicked through his contacts and held his phone to his ear.

"You're okay, get it out, breathe", he said as he waited for an answer on the phone. "Yeah, Cas?It's me, can you get down here? She's having difficulty breathing". He looked back to her and noticed that she'd closed her eyes and was leaning back down on the bed. "Yeah, now". He hung up and put his phone down on the bed, leaning over her to help her lie down slowly.

***

"Sam?" She called out, opening her eyes to a dark room.

"Um, no, it's Castiel", she heard him shuffle closer to her. She still felt weak, but her throat felt clearer. "Sam and Dean are asleep, it's 3am, but I can wake Sam if you need him". She squinted in the darkness and could just about make out his silhouette beside her.

"Oh, no, it's okay. What... what happened earlier? I remember coughing and Sam calling you but it's kinda hazy after that".

"You're weak", he said, and she looked up at him. "Not in general, just right now after what you've been through", he was quick to add. "You were having difficulty breathing, and when I came down to help you were falling back asleep. I cleared your throat but Sam thought it best to let you rest, and I agreed". He reached over to place his fingers on her forehead, and she closed her eyes as a familiar comfort spread through her body, and she felt the pain in her arm and the ache she felt throughout her body dull a little. "I'm sorry, that's as much as I can help for now".

"You all need to stop apologising", she shook her head and reached for his hand as he was pulling it away. "I appreciate everything you're doing for me". She squeezed his hand slightly. "I should be the one apologising, I should've been more aware of my surroundings, I shouldn't have been that easy of a target".

"Don't be hard on yourself. You should just focus on healing. Sleep, [Y/N], let your body and mind rest". He sat down beside her and kept a hold of her, using his thumb to rub circles on the back of her hand.

***

A scream woke both Sam and Dean, and they instantly ran towards the source of it; the infirmary. They found [Y/N] clutching her arm and tossing and turning in the bed, looking like she was trying to get away from something. Sam instantly went to her bedside and grabbed her shoulder, but it only made her scream again. "No! Get off! Please, please stop, please let me go!" She had tears streaming down her face, and Sam looked back at Dean for help.

"Hey, [Y/N], wake up, it's just us", Sam said as he cupped her cheek with his hand.

"No! Leave me alone! Please!" She sobbed, and Dean came over to lightly tap at her other cheek before gripping her good shoulder and shaking.

"Come on, wake up kid, you're safe here", when she continued to struggle in the bed, the brothers shared a look and Dean sighed. "[Y/N]! WAKE UP!" Her eyes snapped open at Dean's booming voice and she looked frightened, glancing between the two of them.

"It was a nightmare, you're okay", Sam said, stroking her cheek. "You're safe, nothing is going to hurt you". She immediately started to cry, and she leaned forward into Sam as he moved closer to hug her against his chest. Dean leaned over to rub circles on her back and they all stayed like that until she'd calmed down and her breathing had evened out.

"I was back in that cellar", she sniffed. "They came back for me".

"They're gone Sweetheart, I made sure of it, they're all dead", Dean said as she leaned back to look up at them.

"What... what were they? It was so dark in that room... whenever they came in I couldn't really see, and I'd always pass out after a couple of minutes. All I know is they had some sort of claws?"

"Tallons. Harpies. Ugly little sons of bitches", Dean told her.

"Harpies?"

"That's what we're calling them anyway", Sam said. "It was the closest thing we could find in the lore".

"What did they want?"

"Well apparently they're in this constant state of hunger. This group, we think, somehow were feeding off of suffering. Basically, the hungrier and weaker you grew, the more satiated and the stronger they got", Sam explained as he brushed her hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, most the other victims only lasted a week or two. You've no idea how relieved we were to find you alive", Dean said. "Cas found the other victims, he said most of them died from thirst".

"It started to rain a little while I was at the gas station. I remember it because it had been so sunny earlier in the day", she said.

"It had been pretty dry around here for weeks before you were taken", Sam nodded. "Why?"

"I drank the rainwater", she said. "There was a hole in the ceiling and the water was coming through. I guess the previous victims didn't have that if it was dry". A tear escaped from here eye and Sam was quick to wipe it away. "I'm sorry", she sniffed.

"Hey, what are you saying sorry for?" Dean frowned at her and she looked up at him with watery eyes.

"I was supposed to help, but I didn't save anyone".

"[Y/N], don't think like that", Sam pulled her in for another hug and rested his chin on top of her head. "You gave us a starting point, we knew where you were when you were taken. Who knows how long it would have taken for us to find them otherwise. We got them and killed them because you led us there".

"Why don't you try get some more sleep? It's still a couple hours until morning. I'll even get up early to make your favourite breakfast", Dean winked at her as he stood up. Sam leaned back to give Dean space to kiss her forehead, and [Y/N] smiled and nodded at him as he left the room.

"Do you want me to stay here, or do you want to come with me to my room? I don't mind either way, but I think my bed is a bit more comfortable than this one", Sam said to her. "You could take one of the spare rooms either, but I'd like to be there in case you have another nightmare".

She took a moment to think about it, and settled on Sam's room. She'd stayed with him before, Dean too, and she knew she slept better when they were around. "My room it is", he nodded and stood up. He held out his hand which she took as she got up out of the bed. She was only able to take one step before her knees buckled beneath her, and she gasped as she fell. Sam's strong arms wrapped around her waist before she could hit the ground, and he lifted her up into his arms. She blushed in embarrassment as he looked down at her in concern.

"I'm sorry", she said, hiding her face in his shoulder, but he just chuckled.

"You're still recovering, it's understandable. None of us will mind carrying you around until you get your strength back", he said as he began to walk towards his room. "You're family to us".

Once he opened the door to his room, he walked her over to the bed and let her down gently on one side. It was still warm from where he'd been sleeping earlier in the night, and she was comforted by his familiar scent on the pillow. He was right, his bed was more comfortable. "If you need anything, you just wake me up and let me know, okay?" He asked as he lay down beside her and pulled the covers up. She nodded before he turned his beside lamp off, and she instantly snuggled up beside him. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her gently onto his chest, keeping her safe and warm. Sam held her close for the rest of the night, and she slept peacefully in his arms, looking forward to the breakfast that Dean had promised her in the morning.

The end

Dean Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @k-slla @lyarr24 @candy-coated-misery0731 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @itburnslikehelltobevega @queenie32 @livingdead-reilly @vmaier12 @littlemadamred @darthysfanfic

Sam Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @hobby27 @angelwiththeshotgun @pizzagirlxnsfwx @livingdead-reilly @fuiabarcelos @vmaier12 @littlemadamred

Castiel Taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @hobby27 @angelwiththeshotgun @pizzagirlxnsfwx @vmaier12

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hydrngea · 1 year

Text

ʀᴏᴄᴋꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡ

a/n : first jj fic! this is mostly unedited, so sorry in advance. this fic was totally not inspired by a nostalgic bridget mendler song hope you enjoy <3 requests are open

notes/summary : you’re grounded and stuck reading romeo and julliet when a certain visitor tries to get your attention from your window. | jj x f!reader, fluff, no spoilers for obx3

word count : 833

masterlist

being grounded was not supposed to be a part of your weekend plans.

well, to be fair, it wasn’t the most prudent decision-making on your part either; sneaking in late from a party at the beach, drunk. especially on a school night too.

not your proudest moment, being caught red-handed by your parents as you tried and miserably failed to sneak into your bedroom window.

which is why you are here now- confined to the comfort of your home for the next two weeks. oh, and no electronics either.

phone? gone. laptop? also gone. hell, they even found your spare ipod from middle school in one of your drawers, so even your last resort is poof-gone.

so instead of being out with the rest of the pogues on another great adventure, you’re stuck, sitting at your bed catching up on reading romeo and juliet of all books for your english project due on monday.

you have to admit, it’s not the worst play your english teacher could’ve assigned. even with all the odd old-timey lingo, you’re still somewhat interested; likely because of the fact you hardly have anything else to entertain you, but still.

halfway through romeo’s sappy romantic monologue, you hear a loud clunk against your window. your gaze shoots up from the book up to the glass, contemplating whether to let it slide or get up to investigate.

you choose the former, too comfortable on top of your freshly made bed to set the book down and drag yourself over just to find nothing.

with a sigh, you restart the sentence you left on just to be interrupted once again by another thump coming from your window.

probably the gutter you think, until you see a pebble make contact with the aperture.

you push yourself up and trudge across the room.

your forehead presses against the cool glass whilst you try to find the source of the stones before you recognize the vague outline of someone standing in your front yard.

sliding the latch open, you lean against the ledge and stick your head out.

“hey! what do you think you’re-“

your sentence fades as your eyes meet jj’s, a big grin spread across his face.

another pebble lands on top of your roof and ricochets back onto your driveway.

“you weren’t answering our texts!” he shrugs, “someone had to make sure you didn’t die.”

you roll your eyes, combing your fingers through your hair. “jeezus j! wait there.”

you quickly paddle down the stairs, simultaneously thanking all the gods that your parents were fast asleep at this time of night. you open the back door and gesture for jj to come in, bringing a finger up to your lips.

“you could’ve woken my parents up,” you chastize while half whispering-half yelling at him as he strides in, chuckling.

“you had me worried, sweetheart.”

the use of your pet name makes your frustration dim slightly. you let out a small sigh-and even though you find it impulsive of him to be throwing literal rocks at your window in the middle of the night- you can’t help but be relieved to see him here.

you shut and lock the door to your bedroom as jj collapses onto your mattress, landing right on top of your open copy of the play.

“ow fuck,” he exclaims, jumping into a sitting position. he rubs at his hip where there's surely to be a bruise tomorrow from the point of the book. “what was that?”

you roll your eyes again, relaxing back onto your bed beside him with your cheek resting on your hand.

“shakespeare.”

jj snorts, picking up the book and placing it on your side table, “since when do you read shakespeare of all things.”

“since i got grounded and i have nothing else to do.”

“you could do-“

your palm shoves into his chest before he can finish his sentence. “nu, uh. what were you doing out there at two in the morning?” you question.

“i’m sorry, my lady.” he over-exaggerates an apology, grasping your hands in his. “ will thou ever forgive thee?” he enunciates with the emulation of a shitty british accent.

you arch your brow, “for tossing rocks at my window or for that horrible accent?”

“both?”

“hmm…”

“please?” jj juts his bottom lip out, feigning a pout, looking at you with his beautiful blue orbs.

you let out a giggle, scooting towards him until your front is pressed up by his. you throw your leg over his torso- straddling him- and place your hands on the back of his neck, playing with some stray strands of his blonde locks.

“hmm…well considering it’s what romeo did to get julliets attention, i guess I can’t blame you for trying to be a romantic,” you respond, lips meeting the skin underneath his jawline.

jj’s hands run over your back, sliding up your flimsy pajama top suggestively.

“i thought that was just a thing gnomeo did in gnomeo and julliet, if i’m being honest.”

you chuckle against his neck, pulling back slightly to lock your eyes with his, “you’re fucking insufferable, jj.”

he tilts his chin up, bringing his lips to brush under yours, “love you too, babe.”

-----

pls tell me you guys have watched gnomeo and juliet. hc- jj was obsessed both gnomeo and juliet and sherlock gnomes.

taglist (lmk if you’d like to be added!) : @mrsstarkey1 @maybankslover

check out my newest fic !!!

follow and reblog and i'll do the same for you!

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minicoffee00 · 7 months

Text

Fast Changes Part 1 - Azriel x Reader

Plot: You are Feyre’s younger twin and get sent into the Cauldron with your sisters coming out as high fae. What happens on this journey

Warnings: Sexual Assault, Assault, Nakedness in Public, Angst

I was so happy compared to Nesta when Feyre came back, I hadn’t much care that she had come back with pointed ears, brighter eyes and now much taller than me.

I found it rather odd on my return home that there were no servants helping Elain tend to her garden or cooking through the window of the kitchen or wiping down the windows outside.

It was always busy and thriving at the house now that they had money.

Tamlin hadn’t managed to glamour me as I wasn’t in the house when he came to claim Feyre and I only could remember my anger from that night, having my sister taken from me, when Nesta told me the truth of what happened.

I had tried to follow Feyre, and had gotten over the wall, but as I crossed I was attacked, a scar now down my face showing just how I’d survived, how I couldn’t remember, only woke up on the mortal side of the wall.

After that, Nesta refused to let me leave the house, forbade it ‘as an older sister you will listen to me Y/an, it’s for you own safety. We don’t know what the tensions are like there right now’ she would tell me.

The second time Feyre came back, I saw my sister and attempted to follow her back when she left, only to be yelled at by Nesta and Elain to stay with them, with MY family.

So seeing Feyre, my twin, was like a breathe of fresh air. Even despite the now different features!

So when I’d walked into the seemingly empty house, I travelled straight to the dining room, not being quiet. Everyone heard me before they saw anything.

Azriel, Rhysand and Cassian had all been alert at the sound of the door.

I had thrown myself straight at Feyre when i walked in the door seeing her sat around the table.

The three large Illyrian men stood right up, ready to protect their brother’s mate. As Azriel watched her, his shadows perked up, which furthered him to take his dagger out seeing this as a sign that this small human was a danger.

“Feyre, why did you leave” I sobbed to her. Pulling her in close as I sunk to my knees.

“I had to, and now this place is no longer welcoming to me and my kind. I’m so sorry Sugar” she mumbles.

“Spice, why are they watching us” I mumbled to my sister watching the three men watch the interaction ahead.

“Rhys, Az, Cas, this is my younger sister. These are friends from the Night Court, where I reside now. Oh it’s beautiful. You must come see it eventually. Sorry about them, they just were worried you were an intruder” she introduces, showing me off to the three men.

Azriel couldn’t take his eyes off her, it was like he couldn’t not look. The way her honey bronze hair, the darkest out of all the sister was wispy from wherever she had been out in the colder air, and her light brown eyes, that almost looked like the sun.

“Hello, my name is Y/N. You really couldn’t tell I was her sister?” I asked shyly, I knew Feyre had gone through changes now that she was somehow Fae, but all of her beautiful features were enhanced making me look plain and boring stood next to her.

“Sorry we were only concerned, we will protect Feyre at any cost” Rhysand I think, as I remembered his name, chimed in making me nod slowly and take the only available seat on the table.

Elain was tense, holding her fork tightly. So I rested my hand on her thigh, tapping as a calming action. She dropped the fork immediately looking towards me, a smile drawn on her face happy to have me back in the house.

“How did you get that scar?” Azriel asks bluntly making my head shoot up, a look of shock on my face.

“AZRIEL! That’s rude” Cassian scolds, his raised voice not making Elain jump like it would have if I hadn’t had a comforting hand in her slightly sweaty one.

“I’m also, intruded Sugar. How’d you get it” Feyre pokes looking at me. I hated how she could always get me to admit to anything, but not this time. I didn’t want her to worry about me being reckless while she was gone.

“It’s nothing” I grumbled

“Nothing, that looks like it comes from the talons of a Naga” Cassian laughs observing my face, a breath releases from me that I didn’t realise I was holding.

“I found her covered in blood, left on our side of the wall, so you tell me. It wasn’t nothing Y/N and you shouldn’t have decided to run after Feyre. Silly child” Nesta scolds.

But all of a sudden my memories come back clearly. I see myself cross the wall, fight against a black snake like create, managing to kill one with the dagger (infused in ash) in my hand, however the other two overpowered my body. His talons swiped down, mauling my face, which caused the scar now there. The creature went for a second strike until a red haired Fae, came and killed the other two. I’d passed out by then, but that male had saved me.

Azriel had watched as she froze, his and Feyre’s heads snapped to Rhys who was looking at the sister with such intensity.

All of a sudden both her hands slap against the table gripping the white cloth. Elain noticed and reached forward touching her sisters arm comfortingly but nothing could seem to wake her from her frozen state.

“WHAT WAS THAT” I roared looking over to Rhys, I didn’t know how but I knew it was him.

“I’m sorry, I had to make sure it wasn’t something bad that could be infected and hurting you right now. You were aware of my presence?” He asked me shocked.

“I just saw the memories that I didn’t even know I had. You tell me” I sass, a small chuckle coming from Azriel and Cassian.

“As much as I love all this reliving memories of times my sister nearly died because of my other sisters stupidity. I have a question for you Feyre” Nesta asks in her usual annoyed tone.

“Go ahead Nes” Feyre smiles tightly. She looks over at me, I shake my head almost begging her not to entertain this.

“Is there something wrong with our food?” She asks and I watch as Feyre takes another bite, trying to reign back the displeased look on her face.

“No”

“Feyre, don’t eat it if you can’t. I’m sorry we don’t have” I start but of course am interrupted by my sister.

“So you can’t eat normal food anymore, or are you just too good for it” she questions a sly look on her face, one saying that Feyre wasn’t the only displeased one at the table, and something told me, it wasn’t to do with Nestas nearly empty plate of food.

Rhys dropped his fork, making Elain flinch and grab for my hand which I happily took in mine lightly.

“I can eat, drink, fuck and fight just as well as I did before. Better, even” Feyre grits out making me gasp, this wasn’t my sister. She wasn’t spiteful or hateful towards us. Elain had no reaction other than looking down, Cassian choked on his water he had started to chug out of nerves. I watched Azriel as he shifted more towards my oldest sister ready to get between then bickering.

A loud laugh rang over the table from Nesta. I stopped listening after that. After hearing a small ‘ Nesta Please ‘ come from an uncomfortable Elain next to me, I got up from the table, my chair screeching as I did. Chucking my cutlery on the plate, making a clanking sound that had everyone’s head turning before I stormed out the house.

“WAIT, Y/N Im sorry” Feyre cries from in the house.

Azriel had made a silent agreement with Rhys to go check on the youngest sister, he wasn’t even sure why he offered, maybe it was because no-one else did and they all continued to argue. He heard what Feyre and her twin had to do to keep the family going in their years of poverty. He felt bad for them, knowing what that fight, everyday to survive felt like.

“Y/N” Azriel called out into the darker gardens, hoping to catch a glimpse of the girl.

“Who are you?” I ask, looking down at him, I was up in a tree. One that I always would climb when I was little to escape my mothers wrath.

“I’m Azriel, Spymaster of the Night Court. I’m a shadowsinger” he says looking up at me with a glint in his eye.

He was shocked, normally his shadows would have told him she was hiding up in the tree, but they were just silently watching her. They were swinging around, more active with an excited buzz to them.

“Why has Feyre become so …” I start not even having the words.

“We’ll im not sure what your sister was like before but she experienced a lot when she and Rhysand were held captive Under the Mountain. She saved us all, and gave her life for it. And in return she was give this immortal life” Azriel explained to me, I watched as he sat down at the base of the tree, I stayed perched up on the dip that I’d been sat in.

“What happened?” I ask, intrigued.

“That’s unfortunately not my story to tell, you’ll have to talk to your sister. She talks about you al the time you know” he says his shadows reaching up curling around the base of my legs that were hanging down. It made me gasp, the reaction causing him to look up and call back the shadows with a little struggle.

“I’ll never be able to come into your lands, I won’t ever see her again” I say sadly, knowing my sister was now a part of them, the night court.

“Your welcome into our court anytime. We can offer you protection while there too” he smiles softly, and this was the first time that I could fully take in just how beautiful this man really was. His hazel eyes shone brighter in the moonlight that had slowly been rising, and his smile… it created dimples that sent small flutters in my stomach as I knew that smile was directed at me.

“Come, lets go back to your sister” he says to me again just as softly as the time before. He reaches up, a silent offering to help me down. I nod, and he grabs onto either side of my waist helping me down from the last little bit of the tree that I’d slowly been moving down through our whole conversation.

He sets me down on the ground softly before holding a hand out to me. I look down from his hand to my own, and then back up at my own. He starts to pull his hand away, until I grab it, interlocking my fingers with his own. A small gasp of shock comes from his now open mouth making a small giggle come from me.

“What?” I ask

“I’m sorry, I know they probably don’t feel nice and look a state” he says looking down awkwardly, a frown now taking over my face.

“I think they feel lovely, firm like you won’t let go of me, and they have a story to tell. One that is behind the pretty hazel eyes of yours that you aren’t ready to tell me yet, but that’s okay. I like your hands” I say grabbing his other one facing fully towards him, holding his hand up to my cheek.

I place his palm flat against the side of my face, leaning into it with a sigh. I open my eyes and he is frozen just watching me with a look of longing and pain in them, but it’s gone before I can even question it.

I take his hand away, holding it down to my side coming back into the house and straight to the dining room.

By the time she had got back, Feyre, Cassian and Rhys were stood waiting for Azriel so that they could depart. They had managed to convince Nesta that they would attempt to communicate with the queens.

“Please don’t leave” I mutter to Feyre gripping her hand, tears threatening to spill from my eyes, I tried to hold them in, but the longer I did the more they built up in my waterline, like a damn waiting to burst its banks.

“You know this realm is no longer kind to me and that I cannot stay here safely. The night court is my home now” Feyre says, trying not to make her voice sound too harsh.

“This will always be a home for you, no matter what the others think” I whisper looking into her eyes, they weren’t the eyes of the twin I once knew. No they held pain now, more than I’d ever experienced, and distrust in almost everything. But there was also joy, and this sense of newness that she couldn’t quite understand.

“I know this is hard for you to accept. But I’m with them now” Feyre says a serious tone in her voice that makes me take a step back.

“Fine” I grunt out turning my back on her and stepping towards Elain, the only comfort I really wanted right now.

#azriel #acomaf #acotar #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #acowar #feyre acotar #azriel x reader #fanfic #acotar fanfiction

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hotreadingwitch · 1 year

Text

Bucky x Reader - His

Content Warnings/Kinks: dominance, praise kink, degradation, nipple/breast play, hickeys, choking, light bruising, oral sex, unprotected sex

His

Y/n woke up to the sun streaming through the shuttered windows of her best friend Sam's home in Louisiana. She and her boyfriend Bucky had come back to visit them recently and had just slept their first night in the guest room. She sighed contentedly, blowing a strand of hair out of her face as she lay sleepily on her partner's warm chest.

Y/n soon realized however that she had to go to the bathroom. Trying to not wake anyone up she crept out of bed and put on Bucky's shirt and boxers. She then slid down the hall, tiptoeing as she did, trying her best to be as quiet as possible.

"Hi Y/n" a voice chuckled causing her to jump out of her skin.

She turned to see Sam, Sarah, AJ and Cass, all completely awake, standing in the kitchen, staring at her.

"What time is it?" Y/n questioned, squinting through the bright sunlight at them.

"9" Sarah smiled, "We were letting you two sleep in"

"Thank you" Y/n blushed, looking gratefully between Sarah and Sam.

"Yea thank you," a low, gruff voice said from behind Y/n.

Soon, her boyfriend was pressed up behind her with his hands gently placed on her hips, gripping her tightly. She tilted her head looking back up at him, smiling. Bucky's morning voice was one of her favourite things about him.

"Y/n is wearing Uncle Bucky's clothes!" Cas suddenly burst out as if he couldn't hold it in anymore.

Everyone laughed.

"That's right she is" Bucky swelled with pride before leaning down and planting a kiss on her cheek.

"Ew" AJ squirmed at their display of affection causing everyone to laugh again.

"Well," Sarah said, "We're going to take the boys to school now and leave you lovebirds alone".

"Yea," Sam chuckled as they walked out the door, turning to the couple and winking cheekily, "Have fun".

Y/n wiggled in her lover's arms turning to face him. "Whole house to ourselves huh?" She smiled, "I wonder what we should do".

She squealed as Bucky picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist and carrying her to the guest bedroom, "I have a few ideas" he grinned.

Bucky pushed Y/n up against the doorframe as they kissed, tilting their heads back and forth as their tongues intertwined. Their kissing became more and more passionate until each of them was gasping for air. As they continued both of them moaned quietly, their hands roaming up and down each other's bodies, him groping her breasts and her pushing into his strong chest with her fingers.

"Should we move to the bed?" He asked cocking his head to the side and pausing them for a moment.

"Good idea" Y/n responded playfully her eyes glittering.

But everything left playful her mind when Bucky roughly threw her onto the guest bed. She gasped out in surprise and whimpered as his hands gripped tightly onto her waist. From there they began again to kiss but this time with more passion than ever.

Matching his intense energy Y/n turned them over straddling him and beginning to grind up and down on his crotch as they continued making out. Bucky's hands were running wild over her body, from her butt to her breasts. Y/n planted soft kisses down the side of his neck stopping only when she got to the band of his trousers which she pulled down after seeing his lust-filled nod.

She started by licking slowly up and down the side of his hard shaft while looking him dead in the eyes causing Bucky's head to lull back in pleasure. She sucked him in and out of her mouth, continuing at the same teasingly slow tempo. His hungry eyes watched her pillowy, pink lips bob up and down on his cock.

"Fuck Y/n..." he sighed, "You're such a good girl sucking me off like that"

In response, Y/n stopped sucking for a moment to smile before roughly putting his length back in her mouth and speeding up. Her hands twisted left and right at the bottom of his shaft while her mouth continued to suck up and down on the tip. He was huge but she could take it.

Bucky was breathing heavily now and Y/n could feel him throbbing hard in her mouth, he was about to burst.

"Fuck" he groaned, indicating that he was going to cum.

Y/n pushed her head down as far as she could, gagging on his pulsing cock as white liquid oozed out of him and down her throat. After he'd finished she returned to his tip and cleaned up the mess, licking each drop slowly as he watched.

Without saying a word Bucky motioned her over to him where she straddled him once again, this time sitting up. In a minute, he was sucking on her neck, no doubt leaving purple marks all over her skin. She moaned into the pleasure, ripping his shirt over her head and tossing it to the side.

"You have no idea how much I love seeing you in my clothes doll" he hummed while still kissing her neck.

"I'm glad you do" Y/n giggled, tilting her head back to give him easier access.

Bucky then grazed his hands down her bare back, admiring her chest lustfully before stopping his hands at the edge of the boxers.

"May I?" He asked.

She nodded and shifted back so he could take them off of her, they were now drenched in her wetness.

"Such a little slut being so wet for me" he muttered as he tossed the shorts onto the floor, then cocking his head questioningly, "You want it?"

She nodded and from there he continued pushing her back onto the bed and kissing down her now naked body, just as she had done earlier to him. Her body tensed at his cold lips and she watched as her nipples turned hard. As he continued kissing his way down he also grabbed her breasts, squeezing them like putty in his hands.

"Shit" she moaned quietly, he had made it to her pussy.

Y/n's breathing steadily grew faster and faster as he teased her clit, slowly drawing circles, round and round it. She could feel her body begin to warm up in response. Bucky continued, holding open her folds and then beginning to attack her sensitive spot with an intensity that drove her wild. Her head threw back into the pillow and she uttered a loud string of curses.

"Fuck Bucky" she moaned.

"Take it doll," he said, chuckling lowly at her pleasure, "Take it".

Though no one was home, she still attempted to stifle her moans but as Bucky continued it became harder and harder. Soon, she was out of breath, screaming his name over and over again until her voice was hoarse. Y/n then felt her orgasm beginning to rise within her. The waves of heat overwhelmed her body nearly knocking her out. Her legs twitched around Bucky's neck as she ground herself onto him, covering his mouth in her sticky substance.

"Seems like you enjoyed yourself" Bucky smirked, licking her cum off his lips hungrily.

"No shit" she chuckled, her face becoming more serious when her eyes met his dark gaze.

Bucky grabbed her by the hips, pulling her roughly toward his body. He then positioned himself at her hole, preparing to insert the tip.

"Ready?" He questioned.

"Yes" she breathed.

Y/n gasped quietly as Bucky's long hard length slid into her and as he begun, she could hear his breathing becoming heavier with every single thrust. He immediately slicked his fingers before beginning to swirl them around her clit. His hands worked like magic as he continued at a satisfying speed, never once losing tempo while pumping in and out of her. He continued fucking her like that until she was practically begging for him to go faster.

"Please Buck" she begged, gripping onto his suntanned shoulders, "Harder"

"Be careful what you ask for doll" he smirked.

He sped up, going as fast as he humanly could, slamming into her. The sounds of their bodies' sticky, wet skin colliding echoed throughout the room. Bucky's flesh hand gripped hard on Y/n's hip, helping her to grind into him. His vibranium hand, however, slid around her throat, choking her, leaving lilac-coloured bruises. She loved the marks he left on her body, it made her feel like she was unequivocally his.

"Rub your clit now doll" he commanded, knowing that having the slight bit of control over her own body would send her over the edge.

She quickly obeyed, beginning to please herself as he thrust into her, quickly swirling her saliva-slicked fingers around her clit.

"Good girl" Bucky smiled down at her, his dominant side pleased that she was always so obedient for him.

Soon, Y/n felt her pussy starting to squeeze around his.

"I'm almost there" she cried.

"Me too" he replied gruffly.

With one more thrust, Y/n felt her orgasm wash over her body.

"Oh," she breathed out slowly as she came, Bucky grunting as he did too. Their fluids mixed together as her pussy tightly clenched onto his cock.

Bucky rolled off of Y/n, settling beside her on the bed, wrapping her in his arms and pulling the bedsheets over their sweaty bodies. All was as it should be...

"WE'RE HOME" Sam's loud voice echoed throughout the house.

"Shut up Sam!" Sarah scolded, "They're sleeping!"

"Yea," Sam said sarcastically, ""Sleeping"".

Y/n snuggled up to Bucky as both of them laughed heartily. He looked down at her with a softness in his eyes that she absolutely adored. Now, all was as it should be.

A/N - I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter as it is one of my all-time favourites and an updated version of one of the first fics I ever wrote...feel free to comment or repost with your thoughts/reactions, I love seeing what you all think!! xx

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky smut #marvel fanfic #smut fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction

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eclecticpatrolroadlawyer · 14 days

Text

Chapter 3

Summary: Bucky and Y/n are in arranged marriage. Bucky is having an affair. This is all it is about... Let's see where Y/n's fate lies... Should we?

Pairings: Bucky x reader, Bucky x Dot, reader x Dean Winchester

Genre: angst, affair, unrequited love, blurb

Illicit Affairs

chapter 1 chapter 2

5 months later after Dot and Bucky's meeting (i.e. 3 months earlier)

Dot's POV

Taking a deep breath, I enter the restaurant with a gentle smile, scrolling through my phone to check for any messages. Spotting Bucky at a table, looking out the window, I smile and walk up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder to make my presence known.

He jumps a little at the sudden touch, turning to see me, a breath of relief escaping him. "Oh. It's you…haha yeah, it's you," he says, his tone a mix of surprise and nervousness. Ignoring his initial reaction, I reply with a smile, "Yes, of course, it's me—on our date, whom you were expecting." I tease him playfully, and he chuckles, shaking his head. "No, no… nothing… Yes, you are right, my bad, doll."

As Bucky chuckles at my teasing remark, I decide to add a bit more to lighten the mood.

"You know, for a moment there, I thought I might have been replaced by a secret agent or something. I mean, the way you reacted, I half-expected you to say, 'The eagle has landed, mission accomplished,'" I quip, a playful glint in my eyes.

Bucky bursts into a genuine laugh, his earlier tension dissipating. "Well, you caught me off guard. Next time, I'll try to keep my spy skills in check," he jokes, raising an imaginary spy hat.

We share a laugh, the atmosphere lightening, and I take a seat across from him. The initial surprise forgotten, we settle into the easy rhythm of a date, enjoying each other's company amidst the cozy ambiance of the restaurant.

In the midst of our date, he excuses himself for a bathroom break, and as I patiently wait, a soft glow emanates from his phone. Intrigued unintentionally, I glance at the screen, revealing 24 unread messages from someone labeled 'wife.' The weight of that word hits me like an unexpected storm, and my breath catches. I double-check, my eyes fixated on the screen, and time seems to come to a standstill. Emotions surge within me—a tumultuous blend of confusion, heartache, and an unfamiliar ache that words struggle to define. It's an unusual feeling, foreign yet poignant, as the realization dawns that I might have merely been a fleeting moment in the tapestry of his life that he shred.

As he returns from the bathroom, I attempt to hide the inner turmoil, plastering a smile on my face. The weight of the discovered messages lingers, creating an invisible barrier between us. We resume our conversation, but my mind is a filled of thoughts, swirling with unspoken questions. The restaurant buzzes around us, but something's off.

As the evening unfolds, the once vibrant colors of our date now seem muted. There's a feeling like things were messed up—the threads of his life kind of tangled. Silence wraps around us, punctuated by the clinking of cutlery and distant chatter. The air between us gets heavy, and we sit in quiet, the noise of the place highlighting the unspoken things hanging there.

"Are you okay?" His hand on mine grounds me, but I'm lost in a whirlwind of uncertainty. I nod quietly, my lips parting, struggling to find words to calm the chaos within.

Questions torment me—confront or ignore? Logic demands answers, but my heart quivers at the thought of the truth. I stare at him, silently pleading for reassurance, as if hoping he'll unveil this as a prank, a figment of my imagination.

The unsettling image lingers, and with a heavy sigh, I unconsciously let out, loud enough for him to hear, "It's all a mess." Each word carries the weight of confusion, hurt, and a yearning for things to make sense again.

Days pass, the weight of the unanswered questions lingering between us. The air is thick with tension, and I find myself unable to carry the burden of uncertainty any longer.

One evening, as we sit in a quiet corner of the park, I gather the courage to break the silence. The golden hues of the setting sun cast a warm glow, yet my heart is heavy with the unspoken.

Taking a deep breath, I look into Bucky's eyes, searching for the truth I desperately need. "Bucky, there's something on my mind, and I can't keep pretending everything is okay. I saw those messages, the ones from your 'wife.' Can you please help me understand? I need to know what's happening."

The words hang in the air, and the park's serene ambiance contrasts with the storm brewing within me. His reaction, his response—everything is poised on the edge, waiting to unravel the tangled threads of our story.

"Bucky," I shake him gently, my voice trembling with fear and desperation. "Who's she? Are you married?" I ask again, louder this time, my hands shaking as I cling to the hope that it's all just a misunderstanding. "Tell me it's not true. TELL ME IT'S NOT WHAT I THINK IT IS!" I shout, unable to contain the rising panic and anguish within me.

My outburst attracts a few curious glances from passersby, but I try to regain control, taking a deep breath to steady myself as tears well up in my eyes.

"I… I need to go," I whisper, a quiet plea to escape the unbearable truth. As I make to leave, I see the disbelief in Bucky's eyes, his shaky breath betraying his inner turmoil. His silent plea begs me to stay, to listen, but I can't bear to look at him any longer. Disappointment floods me as I meet his gaze, shaking my head in silent reproach. Closing my eyes, I let a few tears slip down my cheeks before gathering my purse and walking away, leaving him alone at the table.

After reaching home, I close the door behind me, leaning against it as tears cascade down my cheeks, finally allowing myself to release the flood of emotions I've been holding back.

"I trusted him," I whisper to myself, the words heavy with betrayal and disbelief. I sink to the floor, clutching my legs to my chest, burying my face in my hands as I cry. Each sob feels like a dagger to my heart, a painful reminder of the shattered trust and broken dreams.

As the minutes pass, I cry like a child, the weight of my heartache crushing me. I curse myself for being so foolish, for letting my guard down and allowing myself to love so deeply. Bright colors of hope and happiness that once filled my heart now seem distant and faded, replaced by a darkness that threatens to consume me once more.

The pain is unbearable, a relentless ache that pierces through every fibre of my being. I feel lost and alone, abandoned by the one person I thought was my safe haven. It hurts—oh, how it hurts—more than I ever thought possible.

"I gave it my all, and he gave me nothin' at all," I murmur to myself, the words heavy with resignation and sorrow. In the quiet solitude of my home, surrounded by the echoes of my own pain, I confront the harsh reality of unrequited love. Despite pouring my heart and soul into the relationship, it feels like I've received nothing in return but heartache and disappointment. It's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that I gave everything I had to someone who couldn't—or wouldn't—meet me halfway.

The days stretched on, each one a painful reminder of the shattered pieces of my heart. I bury myself in work, in hobbies—anything to distract myself from the gaping void left by Bucky's betrayal. But no matter how busy I kept myself, his absence lingered like a haunting shadow.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the world outside grew still, there comes a hesitant knock at my door. My heart skipped a beat as I approached, uncertainty mingling with a flicker of hope.

Opening the door, I am met with the sight of Bucky, his usual confident demeanour replaced by an uncharacteristic vulnerability. "Can we talk?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with regret.

Part of me wanted to slam the door shut, to shut him out like he had shut me out. But another part—a part that still holds onto the memories of love and laughter—couldn't turn him away.

I nod silently, stepping aside to let him in. We sit in awkward silence for a moment, the weight of our unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispers, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I messed up. I never meant to hurt you."

His words stir something inside me—anger, hurt, but also a lingering spark of longing. Against my better judgment, I find myself drawn to him, the magnetic pull between us undeniable.

Before I can stop myself, I close the distance between us, my hand reaching out to touch his cheek. Our eyes meet, and in that moment, the floodgates of desire open, the tension crackling between us like electricity.

One kiss leads to another, and soon we are lost in a hunger that had been brewing quietly. Clothes fell away, our inhibitions tossed aside as we surrendered to the primal longing that surged within us.

In the heat of the moment, all thoughts of pain and betrayal melted away, replaced by the intoxicating rush of passion and desire. We collapse into each other's arms, spent and breathless, even though I know it is wrong, even though he has a wife.

Soon I find myself entangled in an illicit affair.

Make sure nobody sees you leave

Hood over your head, keep your eyes down

Tell your friends you're out for a run

You'll be flushed when you return

Take the road less traveled by

Tell yourself you can always stop

What started in beautiful rooms

Ends with meetings in parking lots

And that's the thing about illicit affairs

And clandestine meetings and longing stares

It's born from just one single glance

But it dies, and it dies, and it dies

A million little times

Leave the perfume on the shelf

That you picked out just for him

So you leave no trace behind

Like you don't even exist

Take the words for what they are

A dwindling, mercurial high

A drug that only worked

The first few hundred times

And that's the thing about illicit affairs

And clandestine meetings and stolen stares

They show their truth one single time

But they lie, and they lie, and they lie

A million little times

And you wanna scream

Don't call me "kid"

Don't call me "baby"

Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me

You showed me colors

You know I can't see with anyone else

Don't call me "kid"

Don't call me "baby"

Look at this idiotic fool that you made me

You taught me a secret language

I can't speak with anyone else

And you know damn well

For you, I would ruin myself

A million little times

Note: Hey guys! Hope you like it. English is actually my second language so if there's any mistake you can inform me by messaging me privately. And PLEASE REBLOG AND DON'T STEAL MY WORK. Please like and comment too so, that I can know your views. Thank you for reading guys! Have a nice day and please comment if you wanna be tagged in.

Taglist: @angstysebfan @cjand10@learisa @themorningsunshine @binkszamsstuff

@dreamerglassesgirl @winterslove1917 @perfectpieslimeprune@nikkivillar @bethexo07 @vicmc624 @pattiemac1 @ozwriterchick @rqse-writes @mega-kittyglitter-1

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afro-hispwriter · 1 month

Text

The French Mistake was a mistake

Dean Winchester/Jensen Ackles x reader

Soulless Sam x reader(brief mention)

Summary- Dean is starting to believe you and him aren't meant to be in any universe

Warnings- 6x15(doesn’t follow it completely), mentions of suicide, mentions of being admitted to a facility, break ups, so much angst, mentions of anna, lisa, and ben, dean is a asshole lowkey(in the situation at least)

Not edited

Sam and Dean burst through the window and landed on a blue mat but before they could stand up someones yelled,

"CUT!" Bells rang, clapping, and whole bunch of talking started. The brothers looked around, Balthazar was gone and that's when the confusion started.

"Great solid fall." Someone slapped Deans ass making him jump.

"Jared, Jensen outstanding. That was just great!" Said a old man in a chair and from behind a kid started speaking nonsense.

"Supernatural, scene one, "Echo." Take one, tail slate. Marker." And closed one of those movie boxes.

"So no angels?" Sam says.

"No angels, I think."

"Should we be killing anybody?"

"I don't think so."

"Running?"

"Where?"

Sam and Dean looked at the group of guys sitting around tv screens all talking. Then one yells "Moving on" and lights start turning on.

"Thats a wrap on Jared and Jensen."

"Who the hell are-?"

It went by quick after that. Dean got dragged up to makeup stations and got the makeup he didn't think he had on him. Sam got dragged into an interview he had no idea how to answer.

They met up again, settling on being sent to another universe where they are actors who play Sam and Dean. They walked out of the building and the sight of Baby gave Dean a huge smile. But he watched a guy throw stuff over it and saw a whole bunch of Baby's.

"Im gonna be sick." Dean says and starts to back away.

"We need Cas." Sam says and Dean tries to do some sort of "prayer" but that was short lived when they spotted the man.

That ended up being fake too. Cas' name in this universe was Misha. Misha? They kept walking around the lot until they saw the trailer that said "J. Ackles."

"Thats fake me." Dean says and pointed at himself.

"Yeah."

"This mist be fake mine." They walked in and Dean was instantly in awe. The fish tank and the freaking helicopter. Dean looked around the trailer and noticed a framed picture on a table. It was of fake him and a woman with brownish red hair. Maybe his sister? But the picture looked a little too intimate to be that.

It made him think of you. You left the team after the showdown with Lucifer. But he couldn't blame you. He hurt you, deeply. From Lisa, all the way too Anna. He really did like you but his connection too Anna was too great. And Lisa, Lisa and him are good. He loves her and he loves Ben. But every once in a while his mind would drift off to you, wondering what you were up too.

It was a dick move. Sam called him out on it, as did Bobby and Ellen.

All this thought of you made him want to see if you were in the universe. Sam was typing away on fake his computer.

"Hey Sammy, I want to check something." Dean says and takes the laptop and plops on the couch. He starts typing in your name.

Y/n L/n Supernatural

Pictures of you popped up, along with a description of your character. And again the bottom in the little box there were drop down choices with answers.

Why did Y/n Carter leave Supernatural?

Why did Dean and Y/n break up?

Do Y/n and Sam get together?

That made Deans eyebrows furrow. Why would you and Sam ever get together? But he immediately groaned. When Sam was still soulless he apparently went to go see you, wherever you were. Because apparently Sam and Bobby were the only one to know where you went. He then proceeded to heavily dropped hints that he slept with you. It had taken everything for Dean not to beat up his soulless baby brother.

Y/n Carter must be your name in this universe. Ironic how fake you and real you share the same first name. He clicked on the option that said why you left the show.

It was released that she left the show due to personal reasons but fans speculate it has something to do with her ex of 7 years Jensen Ackles(who plays Dean Winchester aka her love interest), leaving her and marrying a now former mutual friend, Daneel Harris now Daneel Harris-Ackles.

"Holy shit" Dean mumbled, "Im a dick here too."

"Whats wrong?"

"I looked up Y/n, wanted too know what she was up to. Apparently im an asshole here too." He passed the computer to Sam and he started reading.

“At least you’re aware.” Sam mumbled and Dean shot him a look. “Huh seems like you guys broke up in this universe just after dad died in ours and she left the show around the time our Y/n left us."

"You know where she is and wont tell me." Dean says with a slight glare.

"She doesn't want you too know, and for good reasons." Sam says.

"We need to find a way to get back to our universe." Dean says and looks over at the framed picture of fake him and the woman. It gave him a great unease.

After trying to drive fake Baby. Sam and Dean just settled on getting driven to 'Jared's place as they should say. Fake Sam had a huge house, a freaking mansion. Dean noticed a tanning bed and opened it.

"What am I Dracula?" Sam asks and shakes his head. Dean walked over to the large curtains as he heard animals making noises.

"Dude you have a freaking camal in your backyard."

"It's an alpaca, dumbass." A familiar woman's voice made them whip around. A woman at the top of the stairs, wearing a short black dress.

"Ruby?" Dean looks at the woman is shock and she scoffs.

"Gen, who is it?" The next voice that popped up was so sweet but sounded tired. Another woman appeared behind fake Ruby, dean let his eyes trail over her figure before his breath hitched.

"Y/n." He breathed out and took a step forward. He watched you swallow harshly all the way from where he was. You looked so beautiful, beautiful in every universe it seems.

"G-Gen." you shakily said and grabbed her hand. "You said he wasn't going to be here."

"I know honey, I told a certain someone not to let another certain someone into the house even though I thought I didn't have to worry about it." Fake Ruby said all of that while glaring at Sam which made him shrink back.

"I can't be here." You let her go and start to rush down the stairs.

"Y/n wait let me talk to Jared and I'll take you back to your hotel room."

"Y/n." Dean walked towards you as you made it to the bottom of the stairs. "Hey." It had been more than a year since he last saw you, at least the real you.

"Hey? Thats all you had to say after you admitted me to a fucking psych ward!? Dean took a step back and you took a step forward. "Got me written off the rest of 5?" You shoved your finger into his chest "You didn't even bother to visit me!" You shoved him fully this time.

This must have been what the internet was talking about.

“I-I-.” Dean tried to think of something to say but he was blank.

“Oh now you don’t have anything to say. Nothing about this being good for me, that everything is going to go back to normal after I get it. News flash Jensen, nothing worked. Fuck! WHY DIDNT YOU JUST LET ME DIE?” You screamed and shoved him hard making him almost fall back.

“Okay Y/n honey go wait in the car.” Gen grabbed you by your arms and guided you to the door.

“Fuck you Jensen, I wish I never fucking met you.” Gen opened the door for you and the boys watched fake Ruby watch you go to the car. She took in a deep breath before whipping around to the two boys.

“Seriously Jensen, nothing you couldn’t say anything too her? Do you know what this could do to her?” Dean bit his lip and wiped his eye with the back of his hand. “Crying, you’re crying? Jesus I don’t want to see you talking to her outside of work, you’ve ruined my friend for the rest of her life.”

Dean looked down at his shoes in shame and it felt weird too. This wasn’t his life, so why was it affecting him this much?

“And you.” Fake Ruby looks at Sam. “We’ll talk later.” She walks up to him and wraps a hand around his neck and pulls him down to her lips. He didn’t kiss her back, the shock of the whole thing has Sam stumped. She pulled away and let out a disappointed sigh before walking about of the house.

It was quite for a mom between them.

“Sammy we need to go home now.” Dean says, it was so quite Sam almost didn’t catch it. He didn’t sound like Dean.

“Dean, you okay?” He watched his brother bring bath hands up and wipe his eyes before turning around.

“Im going too stop asking you about her from now on.” He says and Sam cocks his head.

“About Y/n? Dean what’s happening in this universe, is nothing compared to what was happening back home.”

“No you don’t understand! This just proved that me and Y/n don’t work, in any universe.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do. Fake me left her first another woman after 7 years Sammy. And I left her for a woman who ended up wanting to ruin us. And them I didn’t even try to go after her after you disappeared, like you told me too. Im fucked up Sam, its better this way for her.”

“Dean don’t say that-.”

“Sammy please, let’s just find a way back.”

A/n- if people want it, planning on making more about dean x reader, but the Jensen situation in this one… there is no coming back from that kinf of situation. so no. But I have a big plan for Deans, I really hope people want more and want too know about it😁Feedback appreciated, I will love you forever

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #supernatural #sam winchester #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles

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underground-secret · 8 months

Text

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

Description: Dean asks Y/N to help him find his Dad who mysteriously went missing. The two along with Deans brother, Sam, go to investigate John, the dad’s, last hunt the one in which he’d gone missing from.

Warnings: cannon violence, mentions of su!cide, arguing,witch craft, arguing, curse words, everything written is fiction and should not be taken seriously

word count: 6,103

The Woman In White

(Masterlist/ Next chapter)

Present day…

A knock at the door halted my movements, I wasn’t expecting anyone.

I placed the book I was reading on my coffee table, jumping up to see who was at my front door. Suspicion and anticipation flooded my veins as I peeked through the peephole seeing a familiar deep brown leather jacket, not needing anymore confirmation I opened the door swiftly.

“Y/N.” Dean spoke, a mix of relief and worry laced within his voice.

“Dean” I responded with a smile making its way on my face. I practically jump on him my arms around his neck, the last time I saw him was a month ago when he came up to Maine to hang out with me. We were sitting on the hood of the impala just taking in the view when he said he needed to tell me something, he had this look in his eyes that I couldn’t quite place and just as he was about to ask his phone rang and he had to leave. Since then I hadn’t heard anything from him, no calls or texts.

I let those thoughts pass through me as his initial shock wears off, wrapping his arms around my waist squeezing tightly.

I end our hug, remembering the worry in his voice as he said my name, motioning for him to come in leading him to my living room.

“You cut your hair” He acknowledged, sitting down.

“Felt like it needed a change” I say shrugging.

I had so much I wanted to ask him, but even before that I wanted to hug him again. I didn’t move to do either not wanting to scare him off.

“You sound worried, Dean, is everything okay?” I can’t help but ask, my eyebrows scrunching with worry.

“I'm okay sweetheart, but I do need your help. Dads been missing for a couple of days.” He explained the worry in his voice returning.

“You really think he’s in danger? I mean this has happened before and he always comes back fine” I rationalize.

“Not for this long.” he answered simply.

“Okay” I breathed out already knowing my answer the moment he said he needed my help, “Okay, just give me a couple of minutes to pack.” I repeated as I stood up, that charming smile landed on his face as he stood up with me. I took this as my opportunity to wrap my arms around him, this time around his torso, giving him another hug, if missing someone was illegal then lock me up. His arms wrapped around my waist and I felt the tension I hadn't realized was there, washing off my body.

I broke away first, immediately regretting it, pointing upstairs as a sign for me to start packing.

After traveling many days from Maine to LA we had finally made it to Sam’s place, who Dean naturally also wanted on board to find their dad.

Dean had parked the Impala in a parking lot close by, the darkness of the night cloaking us as Dean found a way in.

I whispered, warning Dean, “He’s already gonna be grumpy about you showing up here let alone breaking in!!”

But he dismissed me with a wave of his hand as he carefully opened up a window, sneaking in before turning back around and offering me a hand. I give him a look that says ‘really we’re doing this’ as I accept his offer and enter the house.

I follow after Dean as he enters a hallway, when suddenly a tall man lunges forward and grabs Dean's shoulder.

I figure it’s most likely Sammy and decide that I can stay back as the brothers have their quarrel.

Dean knocks Sam's arm away and aims a strike at him, missing as Sam ducks. Their fight continues until Dean finally knocks Sam down and pins him to the floor.

“Easy tiger” Dean huffs.

“Dean?” Sam asks, getting a laugh in response.

“You scared the crap out of me!” Sam complains

“That's ‘cause you're out of practice” Dean responds before Sam manages to knock Dean to the floor.

“Or not” Dean mumbles, face full of floor.

They finally get off of each other, as Sam asks “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Well, I was looking for a beer” Dean replies, getting a response from me this time

“Dude, really?”

“Y/N? You're here too?!”

“Hi Sam!” I respond, smiling brightly.

Dean pats Sam on the shoulder, in the weird way guys do to greet another guy, “We gotta talk” Dean explains.

“Uh, the phone?” Sam reasons

“If I'd called, would you have picked up?” Dean counters, getting a low stretched out “yikes” from me as I add in very helpful commentary earning two hard glares from both boys.

Then the light suddenly turns on revealing a curly haired blonde woman wearing short shorts and a cropped Smurfs shirt, very fashionable. I already like her even though I don’t know who she is.

“Sam?” the woman asks, tiredness lacing her voice.

“Jess. Hey. Dean. Y/N, this is my girlfriend, Jessica.” Sam introduces

I smile wildly waving at her, excited to finally meet the woman i’ve heard lots about, while Dean checks her out earning a slap on the back of his head from me

“Wait, your brother Dean? And your friend Y/N?” Jessica asks as Dean turns his head to me annoyed.

Sam nods and Dean moves closer to her ignoring my warning via head smack.

“Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league” Dean grins.

“Really, Dean” I deadpan, getting an appreciative half smile from Sam while Dean ignores me.

“Just let me put something on” Jessica says, turning to go before being stopped by another sly comment from Dean “No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously.”

I move forward hitting Dean on the back of the head once more, this time harder, he turns around to me “Really?”

“Yes.” I repond simply.

Dean turns back to Jessica, “Uh anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business” He explains before turning to Sam throwing a “But, uh, nice meeting you.”

“No,” Sam replies, going over to Jessica and putting an arm around her.

“Whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her” he goes on.

Dean turns to look at them both head on, “Okay, Dad hasn't been home in a few days.”

“So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back sooner or later” Sam reasons.

Dean huffs, clarifying, “Dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days.”

Sam's expression doesn't change as Jessica glances up at him.

“Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside.”

Dean heads downstairs, Sam follows after him once he changed into jeans and a hoodie, knowing they would be having an argument. I walked behind Sam making sure I was going slow.

Sam states the obvious, “I mean, come on. You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you.”

I hold back my ‘I told you so’ comment.

“You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I need you to help me find him” Dean counters.

“You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine” Sam reasons, pointing out the same thing I did only a couple days ago.

Dean stops and turns around, Sam stopping too.

“Not for this long. Now are you gonna come with me or not?” Dean asks

“I'm not” Sam replies simply prompting a “Why not?” from Dean.

“I swore I was done hunting. For good” Sam clarifies

“Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad.” Dean try’s reason.

Even though he said it I know we were all thinking it is that bad, it’s always a dangerous game.

Dean starts walking again, Sam and, subsequently, me following.

“Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45” Sam recalls

Dean stops at the door to the outside, “Well, what was he supposed to do?”

“I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark.”

“I’m sorry Dean but Sam’s right about that” I chime in.

“Don't be afraid of the dark? Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there” Dean explains, looking at the both of us like we’re crazy.

“Yeah, I know, but still. The way we grew up, after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her. Yet we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find” Sam rationalizes.

“We save a lot of people doing it, too.”

There was a pause where no one said anything before Sam asked, “You think Mom would have wanted this for us?”

I tense knowing that was a sensitive topic, as Dean throws open the door clearly pissed at the mere mention.

“The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors” Sam, sadly, points out as we cross and enter the parking lot to the Impala.

“So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?” Dean argues.

“No. Not normal. Safe” Sam clarifies before adding,

“And that's why you ran away.”

“I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing.”

“Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it.”

“A-And what about you Y/N? Last time we talked you were saying how you were really happy with your job. Did you just throw that all away to help Dean? No offense Y/N but you really don’t owe him, let alone our Dad, anything.”

I breathe in sharply not expecting him to throw me into this conversation. He was right though, I really did love my job, I was a journalist for a crime website/paper. It paid well and was a way for me to signal to any hunters around if there was something supernatural about the case.

But even so I countered, “I do love my job and just because I agreed to come with doesn't mean I stopped doing it, I was able to make a deal to do it on the road and I’ll do it as long as I’m able to. And trust me I know I don’t owe anyone anything, but you guys are my best friends so you say you need help and I will gladly come, no questions asked.”

Sam looks down, sighing, “You’re too nice for your own good.”

Dean pipes up, “I can't do this without you, Sammy.”

“Yes you can.”

“Yeah, well, I don't want to” Dean clarifies with a sadness in his voice that if you hadn’t known him well you probably wouldn’t have heard.

Sam sighs, “What was he hunting?”

Dean opens the trunk of the car, then the spare-tire compartment that he uses as an arsenal. He props the compartment open with a shotgun so that he can dig through the clutter.

“So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?”

“Well, first I was hangin with Y/N here for a while before I started working my own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans” Dean answers.

Even though it was hardly a sentiment, the mention of us hanging out those weeks brought a smile to my face.

“Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?” Sam questioned.

“I'm twenty-six, dude” Dean spoke as he pulled out papers from a folder, the ones he showed me at the first motel we slept at on our long journey to LA.

“All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy.”

Dean hands one of the paper articles to Sam, adding on “They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA.”

“So maybe he was kidnapped” Sam reasons.

I answer this time, reciting what I remembered reading as Dean handed Sammy more articles, “Well there was another in April, then in December of oh-four, oh-three, ninety-eight, ninety-two and some more for a grand total of ten over the last twenty years.”

Dean puts the papers away pulling out a bag and then a tape recorder as he continues the info dump,

“All men, all the same five-mile stretch of road. It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough. Then I got this voicemail yesterday on our drive to you.”

He presses play, the familiar voice of John, their dad, and static playing, having heard it multiple times, “Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.”

He stops the recording.

“You know there's EVP on that, right?” Sam mentions.

Dean smiles, “Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?

All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got.”

He presses play again, “I can never go home…”

“Never go home” Sam repeats as Dean puts everything back where it belongs to shut the trunk.

“Fun, right?” I comment sarcastically.

Sam sighs, “All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him. But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here.”

Sam turns to go back to the apartment but turns back when Dean says, “What's first thing Monday?”

“I have this...I have an interview.”

“What, a job interview? Skip it.”

“It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate.”

Dean smirks, “Law school?”

“So we got a deal or not?”

Dean says nothing so I do, “Yes, we do” I confirm.

We arrive at the highway where all the men have gone missing just as Sam hangs up the phone, “All right. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue. So that's something, I guess.”

“That’s good!” I add.

Dean then slows the car as we near on a bridge, police cars and men all around, he pulls over fully leaning over to open the glove box, exposing the many fake ids he and his dad had, one’s like FBI and such.

Sam glares at while I say, “Love a good ol’ fraud”

We exit the car heading towards the deputy.

Dean starts, “You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?”

The deputy looks up at us asking, “And who are you?”

Dean flashes his badge, clarifying, “Federal marshals.”

“You three are a little young for marshals, aren't you?” The man asks.

But Dean just laughs, “Thanks, that's awfully kind of you.”

Truthfully he has absolutely no reason to be that smooth.

Dean goes over to the car, the one that belongs to the guy who went missing aka Troy, “You did have another one just like this, correct?”

Jaffe, the deputy who’s name tag I was finally able to read,responds “Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that.”

“So, this victim, you knew him?” Sam chimes in, asking

“Town like this, everybody knows everybody.”

Then I ask, “Besides them being all men have you found any other correlation?”

“No. Not so far as we can tell.” He responds truthfully.

“So what's the theory?” Sam asks

“Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?”

So nothing. Great.

Just before I could ask another question Dean comments, “Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys.”

Sam stomps on Dean's foot, clearing up his comment by saying “Thank you for your time. Gentlemen”

We walk away, with nothing, no helpful information, no nothing.

We make it into town, luckily finding who we assume to be the girlfriend of Troy.

Somehow Dean managed to convince the girl, Amy, that we were Troy's Uncles and Aunt who were also looking for our missing nephew.

Even more surprising we were able to get her to come to a Diner with us to talk, her friend Rachel joining us.

Rachel and Amy sat across from us in a booth, me being squished in by the wall as Dean sat next to me with an arm on the back of my seat and Sam sitting next to him.

Amy begins to explains the last time she saw Troy, “I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did.”

Sam asks, “He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?”

Amy shakes her head, “No. Nothing I can remember.”

“I like your necklace, it’s really nice” I say, noticing the pentagram she was wearing.

“Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents—with all that devil stuff.” Amy says, laughs at the memory.

“I don’t know if you believe in that kind of thing but pentagrams are actually a good tool, it protects you against evil. Your boyfriend has good taste, even if his intentions were different” I smile, careful to not use past tense to not give her the wrong impression.

Dean takes his arm off the back of my seat to lean in “Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything…” going the complete opposite direction I was aiming for aka nice and sympathetic.

But it seems to work as the girls look at each other debating whether whatever they had was worth sharing.

Rachel speaks this time, “Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk.”

Dean and Sam ask at the same time, “What do they talk about?”

Neither boy called jinx, missed opportunity.

“It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered on Centennial, like decades ago.Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever.”

After heading to the library we found out about our murderous spirit, a twenty-four year old Constance Welch who committed suicide in 1981 after her two kids died in the bathtub when she walked away for a moment.

She commited on the very bridge that Troy, and many others went missing.

So that very night, we walked along the bridge, stopping to lean on the railing. “So this is where Constance took the swan dive.” Dean said, looking over the railing.

“What a respectful way to put it, Dean” I say to him sarcastically.

“So you think Dad would have been here?” Sam asks Dean.

“Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him.” Dean spoke, I knew this would turn into another argument between them so I walked in front of them to give them room.

Their conversation became murmurs as I kept ahead, minutes going by before I turned around to wait for them to catch up.

“Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—“ Sam said frustrated before being cut off by Dean

“Monday. Right. The interview.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?” Dean asked.

“Maybe. Why not?” Sam answered back

“Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?” Dean argues.

“No, and she's not ever going to know.” Sam responds.

“Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.” Dean turns around and keeps walking, Sam following, caught up to me at this point.

“And who's that?” Sam questions.

“You're one of us.” Dean motions to me and him.

Sam hurries to get in front of us, “No. I’m not like you. This is not going to be my life…no offense Y/N”

“It’s okay Sam no offense taken, this job isn’t so dreamy” I respond.

“You're on his side?!” Dean yells, turning towards me.

“I-I mean do you blame me? It’s his life! And if he wants to settle down and try to forget the things that go bump in the night then that’s his decision to make. Don’t you wish things could be different?” I argue back, dying down with my question.

“He has a responsibility to—“ Dean gets cut off by Sam now, “To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.”

My heart aches for him, I understand what it’s like to lose a mother but at least I had time with her.

Then Dean grabs Sam by the collar and shoves him up against the railing of the bridge. “Don't talk about her like that.”

“Dean!” I shout out.

He releases Sam with a huff and walks away.

“Are you okay, Sam?” I ask

He nods but by the look on his face I can tell he’s frustrated.

“Y/N.Sam.” Dean alerted us, we moved to stand next to him seeing a pretty pale women in white with dark brown hair, Constance. She was on the edge of the bridge, and with one final look back at us she stepped off.

We run to the railing but see nothing.

“Where’d she go?” Dean asks no one in particular. “I don’t know” Sam responds while I add on “Freaky.”

The sudden roaring of an engine forces our attention behind us once more revealing it to be the Impala with its headlights also on. I whip my head towards Dean, double checking that he isn’t the one in the car.

“What the—“Dean starts

“Who's driving your car?”

Dean pulls the keys out of his pocket and jingles them. Sam glances down at them. The car suddenly jerks into motion, heading straight for us.

With no other speaking necessary, we turn and run.

“Go! Go!” I yell, panic running through me. But the car was moving faster than we were and it was all too close far too quickly.

Dean grabs hold of my wrist forcing us both on and over the railing of the bridge into the ice cold river, knowing I would never do such a thing willingly (even with the circumstances). Sam jumped over, right after us.

The river was, truthfully, more mud than water or at least that’s how it felt. I choke as I breach the surface, Dean’s firm grip on my wrist remaining making it easier to locate him as he pulls us both out and onto the riverbend.

“Dean? Y/N” Sam calls out, his voice coming from above meaning he hadn’t fallen into the river and wasn’t suffering like us, lucky bastard.

It’s only when we’re both standing, out of the river, do I realize just how bad we are. Mud cakes to every inch of my skin, forcing the clothes I was wearing to stick to me, and I knew that my hair would be a catastrophe to deal with.

I want to start crying, seriously.

“What?” Dean calls back

“Hey! Are you all right?” Sam asks the both of us. I watch Dean through an ‘ok’ hand sign along with an “I’m super” just as I hang my head down.

Sam laughs and I suddenly feel very compelled to go up there and throw him in the river so that he could suffer too.

Dean still kept a hand on my wrist all the way up until we were back to the Impala, immediately he went to check if Baby was okay.

He shuts the hood of the car and leans on it.

“Your car all right?” Sam asks him.

“Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now. That Constance chick, what a bitch!” Dean complains.

“Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure. So where's the job go from here, genius?” Sam asked as he settled on the hood next to Dean while I prompted to stand knowing that if I sat I'd just feel the mud even more.

Dean throws up his arms in frustration, flicking mud off his hands.

Sam sniffs, then looks at Dean and I. “You guys smell like a toilet.”

“Alright I can't take this” I complained, moving to stand right in front of Dean. I slap a hand near his shoulder and begin a cleansing spell. The latin slips off my tongue as I catch my reflection on the car seeing my irises glowing purple, like they always do when I use my powers.

The mud, the icky-ness, and the smell vanish from the both of us as I finish the short spell. It’s definitely a weird feeling but far better than the feeling of mud being everywhere.

A sigh of relief comes from Dean as he covers my hand on his shoulder with his own, giving it a squeeze. “Thanks sweetheart”

“You’re welcome! Consider it a thanks for pulling me out of that mud-river.” I respond back cheerfully, eyes focused on Dean as I smile.

I feel Sam’s eyes going from me to Dean in an almost freaked out way.

“I didn’t know you could do that” He breathed

“If I sat here and listed everything I could do we’d be here for a hot minute” I smirked just a little pridefully.

“Two rooms, please.” Dean asks the motel clerk. By the time we got to a motel it was already morning so it was safe to say we all wanted a little break.

The Clerk picks up the card and looks at it. “Are you guys having a reunion or something?”

“What do you mean?” Sam asks as I look between both boys, also confused.

“I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought a room for the whole month.” The Clerk explains, and the realization hits us all.

John.

The motel door swings open, Sam having just picked the lock to John's room. Sam and I enter, complementing his criminal skills while Dean is just outside, playing lookout until I grab hold of his upper arm and pull him inside. Sam closing the door behind us.

Every surface has papers pinned to it like maps, newspaper clippings, pictures and notes. There’s books on the desk and assorted mess on the floor and bed. There’s a line of salt on the floor and half eaten food on the desk.

“I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least.” Dean informs sniffing a half eaten burger.

“Salt, cats-eye shells...he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in.” Sam noted.

Dean looks at the papers covering one wall.

“What have you got here?” I ask, half looking at the junk on the bed.

“Centennial Highway victims.” He replies

The paper showed some of the victims including Mark somebody, William Durrell, Scott Nifong who disappeared in 1987 at age 25, and somebody Parks. Judging by the photos Mark, Durrell, and Nifong were all white males.

“I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs—ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?” Dean asks to no one in particular

“Well it’s not always about the outward stuff could be something more personal in their life, maybe a sequence of events or just something as simple as an action” I inform.

“Dad figured it out” Sam detects, me and Dean turning to see him in front of papers on another wall. Something about Witches, demons, devils, and so on along with an article about the “Woman in White.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asks him

Sam clarifies, “He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white.”

“You sly dogs…All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it.” Dean comments looking closer at the pictures of her victims while I get more distracted on the clippings about the witches, yes it hadn’t a thing to do with this hunt but I mean come on.

“She might have another weakness.” Sam suggests

“Well, Dad would want to make sure. He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?” Dean counters.

“No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband.”

“If he’s even alive, and he’d be sixty-two by now” I murmur, chiming in.

“All right. Why don't you guys, uh, see if you can find an address, I'm gonna go take a piss” Dean informs.

I scrunch my eyebrows as I say, “Have fun!”

Dean starts to walk away but he stops when Sam starts speaking, “Hey, Dean?…What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry.”

Dean holds up a hand, “No chick-flick moments.”

Sam laughs and nods, “All right. Jerk.” It’s then that I knew that everything between them would be okay.

“Bitch” Dean calls back as he disappears into the bathroom.

I keep looking at the articles on the wall, reading more on Constance victims, but in the corner of my eye I see Sam smiling sadly at a photo he picked up from a mirror frame in the room.

A minute or so later Sam begins to pace the room before opting for sitting on the bed, with his phone to his ear

Dean exits the bathroom half shrugging on his jacket as he says, “Hey, man. I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. Do either of you want anything?”

“No.” Sam answers plainly.

“Oooh! Can you get me some fries?” I ask, getting all excited for some food as I pull out my laptop from my messenger bag ready to find that address.

“Sure thing, baby.” He says throwing me that charming smile and a wink that causes my cheeks to flush. “You sure Sammy, Aframian's buying.”

But Sam shakes his head printing Dean to head out.

I’m just about to start searching on google when Sam stands up suddenly with panicked eyes.

“We have to go, now.”

Sam filled me in on the ride to Joseph Welch’s house, we had to keep going even with Dean arrested.

“Hi. Are you Joseph Welch?” Sam asks the older man

“Yeah.”

Sam had given him a photo, the one he got from the hotel mirror, as we followed Joseph down his cluttered driveway.

“Yeah, he was older, but that's him.” Joseph says, referring to John, handing the photo back.

“He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter.”

“That's right. We're working on a story together.” Sam explains.

“Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on. The questions he asked me?”

“It’s an article about the understanding of young women committing suicide as a result of grief. We wanted to get all the details and even include a case that was more than 20 years old” I said cutting in, my experience as a journalist coming in handy.

“He asked me where she was buried” he deadpanned.

“I’m sorry Sir if our partner came off gruff and unsympathetic, and truly I hate to have to ask you again I mean I know this must still be difficult but where was she buried? It’d be helpful to know it again as a fact check because, as you can tell, our partner isn’t the best with people” I explain trying to come off the exact opposite way that John had.

“In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge.” He answered simply, only seeming a little bothered.

“And why did you move?” I ask.

“I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died,” he replied, I nodded at what he said.

Sam stops walking so I stop not knowing what he was getting at, Joseph then stops too.

“Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?” Sam pipes up.

“No way. Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I ever known.” John reminisced.

“So you had a happy marriage?”

But Joseph hesitates for a beat then says, “Definitely”.

How convincing.

“Well, I think we got what we needed. Thank you, Mr.Welch, for your time and sorry again.” I concluded.

Sam and I turn to walk back to the Impala, but he pauses turning back towards Joseph who began to walk away.

“Mr. Welch, did you ever hear of a woman in white?”

Joseph pauses, turning around “A what?”

“A woman in white. Or sometimes weeping woman?” Sam clarifies.

But John doesn't respond.

“It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really. Um, they're spirits—“

“Sam, What are-“ but my point goes on deaf ears as Sam stalks towards Joseph.

“They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women. But all share the same story.”

“Boy, I don't care much for nonsense.” Joseph says walking away but Sam remains insistent as he follows

“See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them. And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children.Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again.” Sam goes on stopping Joseph in his tracks, getting his attention once more.

“You think...you think that has something to do with...Constance? You smartass!” He lectures Sam.

“You tell me.” Sam says, calmly.

“I mean, maybe...maybe I made some mistakes. But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here! And you don't come back!”Joseph yells one final time, shaking with anger or maybe grief.

Sam turns walking back towards me.

“That was good Sammy, seriously” I admire his blunt choice patting him on the back.

Sam’s driving when his phone rings, handing it to me to pick up. I put it on speaker phone as a familiar voice rings out.

“Fake 911 phone call? Sammy, I don't know, that's pretty illegal.” Dean laughs proudly.

“It was actually Y/N’s idea” Sam clears up.

“Eh what’s one more crime to the endless list?” I say smiling pridefully.

Dean laughs and it bubbles something inside me, something that’s been there for a long time.

But his laugh dies down and he goes serious,

“Listen, we gotta talk.”

“Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop.” Sam informs Dean, catching him up.

“Sammy, would you shut up for a second?” Dean warns.

But Sam continues on, “I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet.”

“Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho.” Dean spoke.

“What? How do you know?” I ask, beating Sam to the question I know he was about to ask.

“I've got his journal” Dean announces

“He doesn't go anywhere without that thing.” Sam pointed out.

“Yeah, well, he did this time.”

“What's it say?”

“Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going” Dean informs.

“Coordinates. Where to?” Sam questions

“I'm not sure yet.”

“I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?” Sam slams the brake causing the phone to fall out of my hand, I whip my head to Sam and then back to the road seeing Constance standing ahead of us, the car doesn't slow quick enough as we halt right as we go through her.

All of a sudden Constance is in the back seat saying “Take me home”

I yelp, having not expected her to just be in the back seat. Next to me Sam is breathing hard, looking at the ghostly women in the rear view mirror.

“Sam? Y/N? Y/N!

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