#writings of juicifeur

[juicifeur]

Passing Through (Final)

 Pt. 1     Pt. 2     Pt. 3

Summary: As you recover, Sam begins to realize that leaving you alone was the worst mistake he ever made.

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N:  so this took way longer than expected

   “You alright Sammy?” Dean walked into the library and his brother looked up, broken. Dean brought soup, hoping that he could bring Sam some sort of comfort.

   “Yeah, I’ll be okay...” Sam lied. He had been wringing his hands non-stop since your body collapsed into his arms and your blood covered his chest. He still hadn’t changed his shirt.

   “If you want to talk-”

   “I don’t want to talk, Dean.” Sam sighed and glanced down at his button-down again. 

   “At least change your shirt, man. It’s been-” Dean pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the time.

   “It’s already eight.” Dean set the device down on the table and put his hands on his hips.

   “Y/N’s gonna be okay. Nothing else can happen while we’re here.” Dean sat across from Sam and looked him in the eyes, making sure that he got the message. Unfortunately, Sam would not think about anything else until he knew you were okay.

The tremendous guilt he felt could not be cut loose. Sam’s mind drifted to his memories. The soup that his brother had provided turned cold as his mind wandered.

As you lay half asleep and bare-skinned in his arms, half-empty mugs sitting forgotten in the kitchen, Sam spoke to you.

  “Dean said that I shouldn’t keep coming back here. He said it’s not safe for either of us.” Sam recalled as his arms seemed to pull you closer by themselves, he kissed your forehead. His lips quivered like he had to say something else, but he held his tongue and just laid with you under the covers as the exhaustion finally settled in. The snow outside drifted silently to the ground outside, covering the earth and making it seem like everything was peaceful.

The exchange he’d had with you earlier was still fresh in his mind, he kept replaying it over and over. His hands brushed gently across your skin as you lay against his chest. What Dean told him about what he needed to do to keep you safe was eating at his thoughts like an acid. Sam hated it, but in the back of his mind, he knew his older brother might be right.

He needed a way to tell you. But he knew he would be heartbroken at the look on your face. He knew that in the morning he would be in the kitchen with you. Maybe you would make him coffee. And maybe he could find the courage to tell you the whole truth and say a proper goodbye. He realized then, as he was stroking your hair gently in the bed that he’d spent too many nights in, that it was the first time in his life that he felt afraid to break someone’s heart.

Whenever he’d been in any sort of relationship, having the occupation that he did, he always knew that one way or another he would have to leave and cut off all contact. He usually didn’t have a problem with it, he knew it had to be done. But this time felt different.

His cell phone rang on the nightstand in the wee hours of the morning, the sun was barely up. Quickly, he rolled across the bed and stretched his arm. He grabbed the phone before it could wake you.

   “Dean?” He answered quietly, standing up and pulling on his boxers.

   “Hey Sammy, I’m parked out front. I know I said you had the whole night but Bobby called, something’s up with the end of the world. I’m sorry, man.”

   “Uh- it’s alright. Be right out.” Sam hung up the phone and gripped it tightly in his hand. He pressed his fist to his mouth and gently bit on his nails, a nervous tick of his. In a twisted way, Sam felt relieved that he now had an excuse to get the hell out. Did that make him a horrible person?

Without thinking it all the way through, Sam Winchester quietly packed up his things and kissed you gently on the forehead. He fought back emotions, he knew this might very well be the last time he saw you. With the apocalypse looming, who knew what could happen?

He left your home minutes later after tidying a few things in the living room and putting the mugs in the sink. Stepping outside into the cold winter air, he felt an ache in his chest, it felt like he was leaving a piece of himself behind, and with it a piece of his happiness. As he slowly walked to his brother’s 1967 Chevrolet Impala, he refused to let himself look back. At least he wouldn’t have to look at the heartbreak in your piercing, telling eyes.

He got into the car silently, nose red from the cold and red-rimmed eyes from the pain he felt.

Dean looked at him, concerned for a moment before he spoke.

   “You alright?” Sam nodded.

   “Just drive...” He let out a breath as the engine rumbled to life and they pulled away from the curb, leaving fresh tracks in the thin sheet of snow. 

He couldn’t help that his eyes glanced back at your home in the mirror on the passenger door, and then he turned them away, forcing himself to forget, or at least bury anything that might put you in danger.

Your street was left in silence as the snowflakes floated down, tiny specks of white in a dark purple, early morning sky. Sam didn’t look back again.

It was like he had never been there.

As midnight drew nearer, Sam left his spot at the table in the library and went to his room to rest his eyes, which undoubtedly would turn into a deep sleep. 

He walked over slowly to the sink near his door and ran the water, washing it over his warm face. The cold water dripped off of his chin and he stared at himself in the mirror for a moment, his eyes lingering on the blood on his shirt. 

When he next turned around, he was surprised by the presence standing at his door.

   “Hi, Sam.” Your voice was soft and broken and almost unfamiliar to him. You had a blanket wrapped loosely around your shoulders and your eyes looked sunken.

   “Y/N. You’re awake...” He stared at you in shock and then came closer, taking your forearms in his hands, supporting you as you seemed to sway. The place you were in looked like some kind of old bomb shelter, but with more pizazz. Your eyes trailed around the room trying to make sense of something.

Anything.

   “Are you okay?” Sam asked softly, giving you a once over. You shook your head, staring right back into his eyes with a terrified expression.

   “I don’t know what the hell happened to me, Sam. I couldn’t talk by myself, I couldn’t scream for help-”

   “I know, I think Dean and I have some things to explain.”

Dean slid you a tumbler, half full of whiskey as they stared at you, awaiting your reaction.  You weren’t a big whiskey drinker, but right now you would take what you could get. You gulped it down and took in a few deep breaths.

   “So...you chase down monsters?” You looked up at the brothers as they nodded slowly. 

   “Yeah.”

   “And that was a-”

   “A demon. Yeah.” Dean stood against one of the large pillars in the room you were in. There were hardwood floors and bookshelves and three long tables, the room led down two steps into another where a huge set of stairs sat. It would have been impressive if you hadn’t just been possessed; and their whole story would probably be causing you a lot more stress if you weren’t in so much pain.

   “I didn’t think any of that existed...I mean I’ve been to a few fortune tellers but I thought that was all-”

   “Bullshit. Yeah, most of it is.” Sam said, with his hands clasped between his knees as he hunched over and kept looking at you. His hair fell slightly in front of his eyes and he brushed it away smoothly.

   “There are a few who are the real deal, but we keep a close eye on them.” He nodded slowly, reassuringly, as you processed everything you’d just heard.

   “This is where you went when we were together. On the road going after other peoples’ nightmares?” 

They both nodded.

   “Why don’t you just tell people what you do? You could have normal lives.” You stood up and the boys watched you, sighing.

   “No, we really can’t. With all the shit we’ve seen, if we tried to get out something would pull us right back in, and kill everyone we loved..” Dean said solemnly.

Dean gently ran his fingers over his eyes, exhausted.

   “I’ve been keeping you two up, haven’t I?” You felt terrible that you were causing them to lose sleep, God knows how much they got anyway.

   “Please, I’ll be okay. Get some rest.” You smiled softly at Dean and he hesitated, looking at Sam before finally retreating down a hall to where you assumed his room was. 

When you were alone with Sam, an awkward silence fell between you. You hugged the blanket you’d found a little tighter around your shoulders.

   “Um, can I get you something non-alcoholic to drink?” He asked gently, standing up but not letting his height be intimidating.

   “Tea would be nice.” You smiled softly.

   “Any preference?” Sam smiled back, knowing exactly what you were going to say.

   “Peppermint.” “Peppermint.” Both of your voices chimed in at the same time and your smile got brighter as you looked down on your lap. Sam chuckled and left the large room.

He was still as kind as you remembered him. And all the questions that had seemed to have been burning away in your mind since he left were suddenly gone.  

   “Sorry, we don’t have any honey, but I brought sugar,” Sam said as he walked slowly back into the library-like room with two steaming mugs in his hands and a small cup of sugar under his arm. He set the mugs down on the wooden table and then added sugar to his tea.

   “Thanks, Sammy.” You smiled softly and took one of the cups as he sat across from you. It was a comfortable silence this time and you felt the painkillers finally kicking in. Yes, your limbs and head and ribs still ached, but at least you knew you were safe. 

It was a good thing that you didn’t remember how you got here or what had happened while the demon had control of your body. After all, what you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you. But now that you were aware of everything that went bump in the night, you weren’t so sure that was true.

You took turns sipping your hot drinks and eventually he spoke.

   “I feel like I need to apologize.” He sighed softly and his eyes met yours.

   “I didn’t leave any sort of explanation. and you deserved one. I’ve been regretting that night for a long time...” 

  “Thank you for saying that, Sam.” You smiled softly.

   “You’re not as mad as I thought you’d be.” He noted, taking another long drink from his mug.

   “I was. For a long time, I was mad. But, I just lost God knows how much time out of my life...It’s like I get to start over.”

Sam nodded.

   “Well, you’ll be safe here. Stay as long as you need.”

He gave you a comforting smile.

 Always Tags: @knightofmischief @potato8queen @sherlock44 @too-much-winchester   @krista200022   @mcdoyle22   @lezbianlovebitez @leiassorganaa@katestiel @kylorentrsh @trashbutnotforyou @angel-allie-golcha-aroha  @thedamnchesters @kickasscas67 @hoe-zier @kyara2015@trustnobodyshootfirst @all-ur-friends-r-dead @rhae-winchester @one-shots-supernatural @spn-ayyy @abigrumple @livelovelike555@missdestiel67@lemonadegazeelle @elsatxx @superhero-lover101 @jadepc@becs-bunker

Sam Tags: @commitmenttosparklemotion @carbonated-beverages@galaxyllamaftw @pilaxia Passing Through tags: @agentmstark If you are crossed out, either you changed your url and I can’t find you or you don’t exist anymore Message me if you want to be tagged/untagged Always accepting tags for Always Tags, or tags for a specific character REBLOGS, LIKES, and COMMENTS are much appreciated<3

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #supernatural #sam winchester x reader #winchester brothers #spn #writing is hard #writings of juicifeur #supernatural reader insert #yn x sam #sam x y/n #dean winchester #men of letters

[katymacsupernatural]

Pasta Sauce and Love

Sam Winchester x Reader

900 Words

Story Summary: Coming back from a hunt, Sam surprises you on Valentine’s day.

Written for the Fabulous Fake Title Challenge hosted by @just-another-winchester and I. Requested by @juicifeur.

It wasn’t very often that Sam stayed back on a hunt, leaving you and Dean to ganking the Monster’s while he recuperated at the bunker. Hating the fact that you left your boyfriend at the bunker, all alone, you tried to finish the hunt as quickly as possible, much to the annoyance of Dean.

“Y/N, I know you want to get back to Dean, but seriously! Tonight is unattached drifter christmas, and there is this bar in town. I thought that maybe....,” he tried before seeing the look on your face. “Fine, I’ll get you back to Sam, but you owe me.”

“Thank you Dean!” You exclaimed, wrapping your arms around him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Whoa, no need for PDA! I don’t want Sam thinking I’m trying to steal his girlfriend,” Dean argued, but you could see the slight smile on his face, showing his attitude was just for show.

It was a four hour drive back to the bunker, and you sent a text to Sam, letting him know you were on your way.

Sure, it was Valentine’s day, but you weren’t expecting a fancy dinner, or a present when you arrived home. You wanted nothing more than to be back with Sam, maybe wrapped in his arms for the majority of the evening. It was simple, but exactly what you needed.

“Want me to stop?” Dean asked you as he cruised down the highway. “We can get Sammy a big teddy bear, or a box of chocolates. Ooh, maybe even a rose!”

“Dean, just drive,” you sighed. “If I was to buy anyone chocolates, it would be you, with the sweet tooth.”

“Damn straight,” he agreed, before the two of you fell silent once again.

You were almost asleep by the time Dean pulled up to the bunker, surprising you when he didn’t even pull into the garage. “Wait, aren’t you coming in?”

“And miss the most perfect evening for a single man? Hell no!” He exclaimed, before driving off, leaving you at the front entrance.

Rolling your eyes at Dean’s departure, you stepped inside, immediately noticing the sound of pots clanging in the kitchen. “Sam?” You called out, but with the metal clanging against metal he didn’t hear you.

Hoping everything was okay, you made your way down the stairs, rounding the corner to the kitchen. “Damn it,” Sam muttered as you stepped into the kitchen. Into a mess. There were at least three pots on the stove, one already bubbling over with a tasty smelling red liquid. Sam was at the sink, nursing a burnt hand while the noodles lay in the strainer in the sink.

“Can I help?” You asked, surprising him. Taking the noodles out of the sink, you turned the water on, gentilly sticking his red hand underneath the water. “What is all of this?”

It was then you noticed the red stain on his cheek, along with the spots on his dress shirt. “I was trying to do something special for Valentine’s day. I knew you’d be tired from the trip back, so I wanted to make you dinner at home. But I’m not used to cooking.”

“I think it smells amazing,” you assured him. “And you’ve done a great job.”

“Great job making a mess,” he muttered.

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you pressed your head to his chest. “A great job trying to impress me. Now how about we ignore all the dishes, and enjoy some of this spaghetti and pasta sauce?”

Dishing out the pasta, you let Sam dish out the sauce, before opening the special bottle of wine he had bought. Taking it out to the war table, you sat down next to him, taking a bite of the sauce, relieved that you didn’t have to lie. It was tasty.

Giggling when the noodle dribbled down his chin, you took the napkin, wiping his face. “This is perfect Sam,” you assured him, taking the plates from the table. “Now let’s go tackle that mess.”

“But my surprise isn’t over!” He insisted. “The rest is in our bedroom!”

You noticed his wink, and you couldn't’ wait. But you also knew that leaving those dishes wasn’t a good idea either. “It will wait. But come on, between both of us this won’t take long.

With Sam hands in the sudsy water, you took up drying, giggling when you smacked him in the butt with the towel.

“That’s it!” He exclaimed, leaving the sudsy water, picking you up with his wet hands. Squealing, you held on tight as he carried you down the hallway, into your shared bedroom. Candles were lit on the dresser, rose petals on the bed. Whipped cream and chocolate sauce on the nightstand, and you raised an eyebrow Sam’s way. “I thought we could have fun with dessert.”

“But what about the dishes?” You answered, evening though you didn’t really care about them anymore.

“Dishes can wait. But dessert can’t,” He insisted, placing you gently on the bed, and you had to agree. The dishes could wait.

Sam/Jared Tags:@a-girl-who-loves-disney @aj-reuth @barbedwireandbubblegum @demonic-meatball @imagine-inc @kay18115 @musicalsarelove @lenaabs @lovesamwinchester @mereka18 @sadmac356 @shadowhunter7 @shawnsassymendes-main @sireennotsiren @sizzlingbearpolice @sortaathief

Forever Tags: @16wiishes @4401lnc @amanda-teaches @andreaaalove @angelsandwinchesters @anspgene @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @bemyqueenofdarkness @bohowitch @brooke-supernatural16  @brunettechick @camelotandastronauts @captainradicalpassion @chelsea072498 @clairese1980 @captainemwinchester @createdbybadappreciation @darthdeziewok @destiels-new-girl @donnaintx @dont-you-dare-say-misha @dslocum89 @duckieburns @docharleythegeekqueen @emmazach @emilicious-7 @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008  @essie1876 @fanfictionsaremyweapons @generalgoldfishldrm @goldenolaf25 @growningupgeek @herbologystudent252 @hms-fangirl @imboredsueme @internationalmusicteacher @ithinkimadorable-67 @iwriteaboutdean  @jayankles @jbbarnesgirl @jensen-gal @just-another-busy-fangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @keelzy2 @li-ssu @littleblue5mcdork  @lowlyapprentice @luciferslucille @maui137 @mellowlandrunaway @mogaruke @my-squirrel-and-moose @nanie5 @newtospnfandom @oneshoeshort @percussiongirl2017 @pilaxia @pizzarollpatrol @plaid-lover-bay25 @rosegoldquintis @roxyspearing @samanddeanmyheroes @sandlee44 @shamelesslydean @sillesworldofwriting @sgarrett49 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnwoman @sunskittlex @superbadassnatural @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @teamfreewill92 @thebikiniinspector @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @tmccarney @totallovelesson @tunadean @vvinch3st3r @whimsicalrobots @wildlandfox @winchesterbrothers-inc @winchesterxtwo @winchester-writes @worldwidehansum @zombiewerewolfqueen

#fabulous fake title challenge #sam winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural reader insert #katy writes #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #valentine's fanfic

[just-another-busy-fangirl]

TAG LIST UPDATE

Hey all!

New Year, New Tags!

I am creating brand new tag lists (starting from scratch!) for this year.  As many of you have seen from other writers, sometimes you have to start fresh, based on the responses you get and don’t get from people you tag.  While I don’t write for responses, but for myself, there are lots of new people to my blog who want to be on my tag lists but haven’t gotten on because they’re full (of some people who I never hear from).

SO... New Tags!  The link to the google form is below.

I am requiring your birthday (under 18's will no longer be allowed on my lists).  Please don't lie.  If you're under 18, come back when it's time.

I am also capping Forevers at 60 tags (there are currently ~100 on the list!) - first 60 to answer will be added to the Forevers and those who are after 60 will be put on the other lists they request.  

I've created a few "All" categories (All SPN Ships, All RPF Reader Inserts, All RPF Ships) to alleviate some Forever tag people who don't necessarily read everything.

New Tag Lists will officially begin January 15.

FORM HERE

messily tagging my current lists below

@adaliamalfoy @alicat-life @allinhishands @andtheraincamefalling @atc74 @angelus320 @attractiverandomness @autopistaaningunaparte @ayeeitsemry @beltz2016 @blushingdean @captainradicalpassion @casey101silly @cas-is-my-hero @chelsea072498 @chloeaacole @chook007 @divadinag @chennyetomlinson @cosmicpeanuthologram @deanandsamsbitch @sofreddie @deans--chevy--baby @deanswhiskeyveins @donnaintx @evansrogerskitten @demondeansdomme @docharleythegeekqueen @emoryhemsworth @fandomsissues @feelmyroarrrr @fandommaniacx @fangirl1802 @freefood45 @freddy-fuckboy-tammy @freedomcraziness @fuckyeahfeysand @hexparker @ginamsmith @hennessy0274-blog @holahellohialoha @hyphen4life @iamnotsaneatall @its-my-perky-nipples @jayankles @jotink78 @kryptonwulf @jalove-wecallhimdean @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel @katymacsupernatural @kawaiidemondesuchan @keelzy2 @keepcalmandcarryondean @mandilion76 @letmusicguideu @lucifer-is-an-angel @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @thebescht @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @little-lost-minds @mamaredd123 @mestiza003 @marasficrecs @maya-silverman @missdestiel67 @megasimpleplan4ever @mogaruke @moosesamdeancasbees @mysticwolfcub @mrsbatesmotel53 @mrssamfuckingwinchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @my-angel-with-a-shotgun @newtospnfandom @notnaturalanahi @notnaturalanahi @sandlee44 @nadiandreu7 @ohgodjensen @pretty-fortune @remybosslika @procratsinator @roxyspearing @ruprecht0420 @samwinjarpad @saysay125 @sgarrett49 @skybinx-blog @spn-fan-girl-173 @slightlysoftgrunge @smoothdogsgirl @sophiebobzz @spnbaby-67 @spn--princess @spontaneousam @vodkaluh @supernaturalstarbug @untitled39887 @theoriginalvicki @too-much-winchester @unicorndreamer1622 @whispersandwhiskerburn @youtubehelpsmesurvive

@acreativelydifferentlove @akshi8278 @alshawntal @amomentintime 

@angelblazon @anokhi07 @avasmommy224 @benzilla-94 @blu-eyed-devil @boxywrites @buzzrose @captainemwinchester @cfh21 @clintonvillegirl @dalikah3 @divadinag @dslocum89 @essie1876 @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @its-not-a-tulpa @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @jamrsgang @kathaswings @lavieenlex @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @lipstickandwhiskey @littlemissesa @mariahoedt @ocholove @pandacanttype @p3nny4urth0ught5 @plaidshirtsandmetalarms @ricciolocurl @sleep-silent-angel @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnwoman @static-heart-break @tas898 @supernatural-fangirl13 @viviandarkbloom06 @wh1sp3r1ng-impala

@acreativelydifferentlove @akoya-pearls @alshawntal @amomentintime 

@anotherwaywardsoul @britney8793 @buzzrose @casismyspiritangel @cassburger215 @daddykink67 @dalikah3 @deangirl7695 @deascheck @deangirl-samcurious-0124-0502 @deansgirl215 @deanwinchesters-impala67 @demonic-meatball @dolamrothianlady @dslocum89 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @emma-1967 @essie1876 @falling-for-fandoms @flormolero @fangirlwalkingbitches @faithfullpanicmoon @geminalupus @http-natiii @hanginwithmanerds @impala-dreamer @impalaimagining @juicifeur @jared-padaloveme @latishiante1001 @lavieenlex @linki-locks11 @mariahoedt @lipstickandwhiskey @m-o-r-g-e-n-a @marvelandwinchesters927 @mizzezm @moonstar86 @nayamoralesx3 @nienna666 @oneshoeshort @peyton-keating @peaceloveancolor @pizzamanteachings @plaidstiel-wormstache @rosep16 @poukothenerd @queen--glitch @revwinchester @saffronxbristol @sastielstan @sammiesamness @sasstrashwithnocash @scarlett-love-letters @shirouka @screamingparadox @shae101 @shoestringssnoseringss @silenceofmidnite @sleep-silent-angel @spnwoman @squabblingharlequin @thebookisbtr @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @tiffanycaruso @troubletrumble @viviandarkbloom06 @waywardkitten @winchesterprincessbride @wolf-of-shadows @heavens-arcangles 

@deadlyangelkay @purgatoan @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @revwinchester 

@akshi8278 @alshawntal @amomentintime @anokhi07 @avasmommy224 @benzilla-94 @boredoutofmymindstuff @boxywrites @captainemwinchester @cfh21 @essie1876 @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @its-not-a-tulpa @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @mariahoedt @sleep-silent-angel @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnwoman @tas898 @wh1sp3r1ng-impala

@alshawntal @amomentintime @essie1876 @impalaimagining @jared-padaloveme @mariahoedt @oneshoeshort @sastielstan @purgatoan @justalittleshipper

@alshawntal @barbellsareswell180 @edensparks @erin654 @essie1876 @evyiione @lavieenlex @lullabylike @ocholove @oneshoeshort @p3nny4urth0ught5 @spnwoman @superpanicromancesummer @xagateophobiax @wolf-of-shadows

#tag list #update

[deanandsamsbitch]

Loving A Broken Man Part 7

A/N: Sorry for the late update! But here is part 7 of LABM!! ENJOY

Pairing: DeanxReader

Word Count: 991

Warning(s): Angst. This is a very angsty story so yeah. Have tissues if needed and believe you’ll need them. So just have tissues when reading this chapter, Heartbroken!Dean, swearing, that’s it.

 Series Summary: Dean signed up to join the army, when he was away fighting, he got injured badly resulting with him coming home with serve injuries and PTSD. Dean refuses for help and ends pushing away his family, friends and the reader.

  Dean’s POV: I told my family what Y/n said to me. They were pretty pissed. Sam especially, he couldn’t believe that Y/n said that to me. I wanted to call her, but I couldn’t. I was angry and upset with her. Did she actually mean what she said? Did she actually want me to die?

 Your POV: I went to work, it went by slow. I saw the Winchesters, I waved and smiled but they gave me the death glare. Dean must of told them… I went back to helping clean tables, taking orders to people.

 After your shift

You were walking to your car, when you saw the Winchesters, they walked over to you and they were upset.

 You: Hey Mr. and Mrs. Winchester, hey Sam.

Sam: Hi.

You: Is everything okay?

Mary: No Y/n, everything is not okay.

You: What’s wrong?

Mary: HOW COULD YOU SAY THOSE WORDS TO DEAN?!

Sam: IT’S BAD ENOUGH HE’S RISKING HIS LIFE BUT YOU WANTED HIM DEAD?!

 You could feel the anger bubbling up, you felt your emotions. You then clench your fists, you felt tears in your eyes, then you snapped.

 You: HE BROKE UP WITH ME OKAY! I WANTED HIM TO FEEL THAT SAME EXACT PAIN WHEN HE BROKE MY HEART AND I REGRET SAYING THOSE WORDS TO HIM BUT HE BROKE MY HEART FOR THE LAST TIME!!

Sam: What do you mean?

You: I’m leaving Kansas forever.

 After that you walked away from Sam, Mary and John, They’re faces in shock. You were looking for apartments in New York City, LA and more. You wanted to get out of Kansas. You wanted to be in the big city. You stayed in Kansas cause of Dean, but since he broke your engagement, you decided to leave. You knew you had to move on.

 November 16, 2017

Dean’s POV: Still in the hospital, I kept reading my letters my family sent me, then I got a phone call from mom.

Mary: Hi Dean.

Dean: Hi mom, what’s wrong?

Mary: Oh Dean, Ummmm we saw Y/n today.

Dean: was she with another guy?

Mary: No Dean, she’s not with anyone else but she did tell us something.

Dean: What did she say?

Mary: She’s leaving Kansas.

Dean: She is? Why?

Mary: She said was leaving because she said you broke her heart for the last time.

Dean: oh.

Mary: Dean talk to her please.

Dean: I highly doubt she’ll wanna talk to me mom.

Mary: Just try, please Dean.

 Dean then hangs up and he calls you.

 You: hello?

Dean: Hey Y/n. My mom told me that you’re leaving.

You: Yeah why?

Dean: But I thought when I got back we could…

You: We could what Dean? You broke off the engagement, you broke my heart, what were you expecting when you got home? Everything will be okay? Not happening. I’m leaving Kansas because why stay here? I’m leaving in a few weeks. Goodbye Dean.

 You hang up before Dean could say a word, you then pack your stuff and you got an apartment in New York City, you also applied for a job there, you applied to be a waitress at a fancy restaurant, where many business people went to eat for lunch, dinner or have parties.

 A few weeks after

You finished putting your boxes into the moving truck. You were driving from Kansas to New York with your parents driving the truck. You were driving your car, leading your parents to your new apartment. You then see Mary, John and Sam standing on their driveway, watching you and your parents help you pack. Your parents not even speaking to them. You told your parents about the Winchesters getting mad at you but you told them what happened and your parents knew you were upset and knew you didn’t mean those words to Dean.

 Mary: Y/n?

You: Yeah?

Mary: We’re so sorry but don’t go.

You: I have a new job waiting for me Mrs. Winchester. I have to get on with my life even if that means Dean not being part of it.

Sam: we’re sorry Y/n, but why are you going to New York?

You: I always wanted to live there, I wanna explore New York and have a good life.

Sam: We can tell Dean where your…

You: No. Sam I don’t want Dean to know my new address and new number. He said He doesn’t want me in his life.

Sam: Well, we wont tell him. Have a good life Y/n.

 You hug Sam, Mary and John, then you get into your car and drive, with your parents following in the moving truck.

 Your POV: Look out New York City, I’m coming your way!

 Dean’s POV: I kept asking Sam, mom and Dad for Y/n’s new address but they won’t give it and I heard she got a new number and she won’t let me have it. I knew I fucked up but I miss her, I miss hearing her voice. Fuck I miss her. She was the only girl who managed to steal my heart. I mean we both grew up together, we were best friends, I protected her from bullies, her ex boyfriends, she scared off my exes. She was perfect. We both enjoyed cars, classic rock, burgers, wrestling. I miss my best friend, my fiancée. Man I’m a fucking idiot, I let the best thing slip through my fucking fingers!

Tagging:

 @abbessolute @angelkurenai @artisticpoet @atc74@becaamm  @beckawinchester @bringmesomepie56@blacktithe7 @brittinycharee @chaos-and-the-calm67 @chelsea072498@curliesallovertheplace @dancingalone21 @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog@d-s-winchester @ellen-reincarnated1967   @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @faith-in-dean  @fallen-haunted-to-the-truth @fictionalabyss@foreversfangirl  @goldenolaf25 @ilostmyshoe-79 @imagining-supernatural@perfectly--imperfect--love @jayankles @juicifeur @just-another-busy-fangirl@kas-not-cas  @katymacsupernatural @kittenofdoomage @kittenofdoomagelibrary @lovetusk @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid@luci-in-trenchcoats @larajadeschmidt13@mamaredd123  @makenzie0329 @mein1928  @misssamericaschavez   @meredith019 @nichelle-my-belle@ravengirl94 @reigningqueenofwords @sgarrett49 @spnbaby-67             @spn67-sister @supernxturxl @supernotnaturalcas @sup3rnaturalunkn0wn  @salt-n-burn-em-all  @sparklingcas @tattooedmomster13   @trexrambling @thing-you-do-with-that-thing@teamfreewill-imagines@winchester-writes

 @winchesterenthusiast@winchestersnco

#dean winchester #loving a broken man #angst #Smut #fluff #dean x reader #SUPERNATURAL AU #supernatural fic #supernatural #Jensen Ackles #Misha Collins #Jared Padalecki

[your-modern-shakespeare]

Fanfiction Recommendation

9/12/17: Hey guys! I am SO SO SORRY that I have been MIA the past couple of weeks. With the school year starting and all the Hurricane Harvey stuff happening down here, it’s been a little hectic. I have been working on a lot of stuff but they are turning out to be a lot longer than I had planned which is taking more time to get out to you. I plan on posting something on Wednesday though, so look out for that. I am also just a few blogs away from 500 followers so if you want to do something to celebrate or have a recommendation send it my way. Anyway, Enjoy!

Last Week’s Recommendation 

My Masterlist

Dean x Reader 

Mistaken Identity by @ravengirl94 -  Mistaking Dean for your blind date saves your life… literally

On The Run by @winchesterinterrupted -  In this short, you are Bela Talbot’s little sister who has run into none other than Dean Winchester, the best hunter of his time. Not knowing who he is, or that Bela once stole lottery tickets from his jacket pocket, you decide to spend a night in Dean’s bed.

Filter by @dustycelt -  You and your best friend play around with some photo filters on your phones. Dean becomes your favorite subject and he finds out.

Sam x Reader

Clean by @lgbtfangirl -  Can you do a Sam one with 39 from the second dialogue?

Watching the Time Go By by @melanie-writes-supernatural -  Prompt: “I promise, I won’t let go.”

Cas x Reader

Listen With Your Heart by @withstarryeyes -  You think your lifestyle is bad for Cas, he doesn’t agree.

True Love by @lucifersagents - No summary but a cute one shot with some tricks from Gabriel . 

Crowley x Reader

 A Possible Beginning by @girl-next-door-writes -  Crowley is withholding information, that’s nothing new, but perhaps there is more he is keeping to himself.  Which information would you prefer?  The information that helps solve the case or the real reason why he’s been avoiding you?

The Truth Comes Out by @buckyodinson -  So the reader and Crowley are madly in love, but the reader knows nothing about THAT world and def doesn’t know he’s the king of hell. Maybe a lil bit of angst and lotsa fluff. Anyway the reader finds out and yea…

Jensen x Reader

Speed Dating 101 by @acreativelydifferentlove -  After reluctantly agreeing to a round of speed dating, you find yourself face to face with the most unexpected person.

P.A. Life by @juicifeur -  How about Jensen takes a liking towards a shy and introverted girl. But she is sassy.

Jared x Reader

Tickle Confessions by @unicorns-writing -  Jared and Reader are best friends, but recently they notice how much he means to them with his busy filming schedule.

Saved by J2 by @not-moose-one-shots -  Based off the twitter post about J2 saving a girl from being hit by a car

Misha x Reader

Indefinite Initials (Mini Series-Complete) by @cass-trash -  Everybody receives a special tattoo of their soulmates initials at some point in their life. After nearly thirty years, you wake up with the initials ‘M.C.’ tattooed onto the back of your shoulder and set out to try and find who it might be.

Rest Of Our Lives by @thing-you-do-with-that-thing - Prompt: “I don’t kidnap, I just temporarily borrow a person”

Bucky x Reader

Are You Jealous? by @lokiandbuckyaremine -  Your ex stops by to congratulate you on your recent engagement, but a very jealous Bucky comes home to find you and your ex talking on the couch.

Everything to Lose by @letsgetoutalive -  No summary but cute Bucky one shot where you’re both kind of stubborn

#fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction recommendations #fanfiction recommendation #weekly recommendation #fanfiction rec #fanfic recommendation #fanfic rec #dean x reader #sam x reader #cas x reader #crowley x reader #jensen x reader #jared x reader #misha x reader #bucky x reader #spn #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic

[hollenka99]

Got Tagged!

Yesterday, I got tagged by @supernaturalfreewill to do this. She's one of my favourite fanfic writers. If you haven't done so already, check her out. I especially like Mess Is Mine and In Our Time, two of her series. I'm so happy you're back again. Thanks for tagging me in something like this. It doesn't happen to me often.

Rules: Tag 10 blogs you'd like to get to know better.

Nickname: I don't really have one. I was sometimes 'Hol' or 'Hols' in primary school but that died out.

Zodiac: Leo and excited because my sign is next. This year is super important.

Height: 5'2 or 5'3. Depends on which of my friends I use as a reference.

Last Thing You Googled: Jezry Potomski. I was telling my mum how shocked I was that she didn't recognise All About You by McFly. She asked me if I'd ever heard of him (something about his amazing hair), I didn't. Don't try to one-up your mothers, people. They will only leave you in the dirt.

Favourite Music Artist: Ed Sheeran. Although, I have been listening to McFly, Sam Smith and Panic! At The Disco a lot in the past week.

Song Stuck In My Head: Tom Fletcher's wedding speech.

Last Movie: Pride. One of my favourite films that I own. Certainly my favourite LGBT film. Except, I don't think I've watched another LGBT film.

What Are You Wearing Right Now: Green top and pink 3/4 trousers, no socks. Glasses.

Why Did You Choose Your URL: Because I'm half Polish and there isn't a Polish equivalent to Holly, I'm called Hollenka when I visit my mum's side of the family. My mum sometimes calls me it at home.

Do You Have Any Other Blogs: Yes, it's a Supernatural writing blog but I haven't posted anything in ages.

What Did Your Last Relationship Teach You: Well, I haven't been in a relationship. Although, I have learnt that you don't start Sixth Form and magically find your first boyfriend or girlfriend by the end of the Autumn term. That was a bit of wishful thinking on the part of my 15 year old self. And chill when you meet someone new who you find attractive. Just be friendly and hope for the best.

Religious or Spiritual: I'm Catholic so religious.

Favourite Colour: Orange.

Average Hours Of Sleep: 7.

Lucky Number: I don't really have one. But when I was a little girl, it was 99 in case we had to count from our favourite number to 100, therefore meaning I had to only go up one number. I stopped when I considered having to count from my favourite number to 0, aka going through the most numbers. If that doesn't sum me up, I don't know what will. By the way, I was never asked to do anything like that counting task. God knows where I got it from.

Favourite Characters: Charlie Bradbury, Castiel, the Weasley twins, Remus Lupin, Rick Sanchez, Morty Smith, Snowball/Snuffles, Stiles Stilinski, Henry DeTamble, Magnus Chase, Jack the Sword, Percy Jackson, Heathstone. These are just the ones I have at the top of my head. There are tons more.

How Many Blankets Do You Sleep With: None, just the duvet, in summer and 1 during winter.

Dream Job: Author. Most likely Sci-Fi or Fantasy books. But I have to get a degree first. The University of Winchester caught my eye for the name but I honestly think one of their English courses might suit me.

Tags: @assbuttsimagining, @carry-on-my-wayward-imagines, @withthedemonblood, @sketchydean, @linneart, @consulting-cannibal, @ask-tinycas (actually for @Jennilah but it glitches for some reason if I try to tag you), @kaz2y5-imagines and @juicifeur.

#getting tagged #one of these chain things #supernaturalfreewill #about me

[juicifeur]

Passing Through (Pt.3)

PART 1 ~ PART 2

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: little bits of angstyness

A/N: At least I got this done (after three months) after like five months

Summary: With a demon occupying your body, the Winchesters struggle to adjust but they still bring you back to the bunker. And they try to do everything to get you back to normal.

Three days passed and neither of the Winchesters slept.

Sam because he was using every waking second he had to find a way to exorcize the demon that occupied your body, and Dean because Sam wouldn’t let him sleep. 

The aroma of coffee and bourbon was the only constant. That, and the soft hum of your altered voice carrying through the vents from the dungeon.

Dean laughed under his breath as he sat at one of the large tables in the bunker’s library. He’d been sucked into the internet and for some reason, he couldn’t stop watching video after video.

  “What’s so funny?” Sam asked as he walked in. Despite not showering for the last three days, he still looked mildly presentable. Dean chuckled again and lifted his phone up, smiling.

  “Watch this video, this guy’s got a trombone and his kid’s banging an oven door-”

  “Seriously?” Sam looked at his brother. Dean taking breaks had become an issue to Sam, it was time wasted not looking for a way to save you, and this demon had its claws in you deep.

  “I’ve been working my ass off to try and get Y/N back and you’ve been sitting there watching stupid videos?” He scoffed and Dean pursed his lips in awkward silence.

  “Sammy, maybe you just need to take a few hours off and relax. You’ve been up for like forty hours almost.” Dean stood up and pat Sam on the shoulder, but the younger brother shook his head, not showing outward signs of exhaustion yet.

  “I gotta save, Y/N. It’s the only thing I can think about.” Sam sighed and set his laptop down on the table. His calloused fingers trembled with the breaths he took.

  “We just have to find a way to make sure this doesn’t do more harm than good. If I can just figure out a way to distract it..” He sighed again and Dean nodded.

  “Well, then we have to-” 

  “What?” Sam asked. His brother held up a finger and turned his ear toward the wall.

  “You hear that?” Dean turned toward one of the vents that resided near the ceiling in the library. The voice was slowly getting louder.

  “Is that...singing? I’m not just hearing things, right?”

   “Yeah, that’s Y/N.” Sam bit the inside of his lip.

   “The itsy bitsy demon crawled up the water spout; Down came the black smoke and choked the human out.”  A giggle came out of your throat.

The chains that bound your ankles rattled softly as your legs moved back and forth under the chair like you were on a swing. Your joints ached like they were being sawed through with a rusty knife, but that was the whole point.

   “Where am I?” You asked. But no sound came out of your mouth. Your neck ached from hanging forward but, again, you didn’t do anything to stop that. You could feel your wrists bound to the chair, the ropes digging into your skin, but you didn’t make any sort of effort to move them. 

   “Shut up.” Another voice, other than your own, spoke, echoing off the curves of your skull and reverberating in your ears. Suddenly you remembered what had happened. Your body wasn’t your own anymore. Your head was drawn up at the sound of large metal doors unlocking and opening in front of you.

   “Sammy, been wondering where you got to.” Your lips curled up into a smirk as you watched both brothers enter the cold dark room. A mouldy sandwich lay on a plate in front of your feet, from when Sam had tried to get you to eat; to no avail. Dean opposed that idea, but Sam’s resilience led him to believe that the Y/N he knew was still in there and needed to eat. It wasn’t clear how long it had been since your last meal, considering that the demon didn’t need any of that to survive.

   “Let me talk to Y/N.” All the light in Sam’s eyes was gone, and his fists clenched at his sides as he looked you over. He was definitely looking at something in particular, but you didn’t know what. It was pointless to try and scream for help, it wouldn’t let your voice through. 

   “Hmm, I don’t know. I like the view from where I’m sitting.” The demon mewled, leaning forward and pulling your lip between your teeth.

   “I could sit here all day. Hi Dean.” Another giggle came from your throat and the boys awkwardly avoided eye contact. 

   “Just give us a minute.” Dean practically growled, glaring at the demon inside of you. You could feel it roll your eyes.

   “Fine, fine.” 

Suddenly it felt like your chest was ten times lighter. For a split second there was relief - and the devil on your shoulder, the one that had beaten the angel on the other to the ground a long time before, was gone. Or at least dormant for now.

Once you were able to move your head on your own, you looked slowly down at your arms. Your muscles throbbed and your head felt like it was on fire but you were alive. How that was possible escaped you. Bruises started to form and you could feel the same sensation happening around your ribs. It made a small noise of discomfort escape from your lips and you looked up at the boys with heavy tears in your eyes.

The wounds that riddled your skin could have been months old. The areas under your eyes slowly darkened and your cheeks lost their colour, it was as if all indications of humanity that you displayed up until this point were just part of the demon’s facade. And since you had never been involved with whatever these boys did, you had no way to understand what the hell was actually going on. All you knew was that something had taken over your body and had forced you to start believing in something that had nothing to do with your normal view of life - something that wasn’t natural.

The pain in Sam’s eyes worsened as your limbs turned black and blue, the only thing that had kept you looking semi-normal was the demon’s ability to heal itself and appear invincible.

   “S-Sammy..” You practically gasped feeling your chest seize up and start throbbing. The intercostal muscles between your ribs ached with trauma and hindered your lungs from taking full breaths. The stabbing pain you felt as you shifted in the chair indicated to you a possible broken rib; the result of something you couldn’t remember.

Sam’s eyes changed and he rushed to your side, remembering to keep his hands at a distance as not to hurt you anymore. His protective instincts would pose a problem when you whimpered his name yet again.

   “Y/N, hey, we’re gonna get that thing out, alright, don’t worry, we got you-”

   “Sam, it hurts.” You began to cry, you felt as though your guts had been twisted over and over and tied in knots.

   “I know, Y/N, I know, you just gotta hang in-”

   “Times up!” The demon’s eyes flashed black again and your teeth snapped at Sam’s cheek as he suddenly pulled away. A dark chortle sounded from your throat and Sam didn’t know how such a terrible sound could come from your vocal cords.

   “Don’t like biting, anymore huh? Oh, Sammy from what Y/N remembers, you never had a problem with it.” The demon giggled again and Sam’s lip turned into a snarl.

   “Why the hell are you here. Why go after Y/N.” Dean stepped in front of his clearly overwhelmed brother. The demon’s head tilted teasingly. The way your teeth were bared and the way your eyes stared them down with a dead, menacing look reminded Dean of “The Exorcist”.

   “Oh, boys, to get to you of course. Unfortunately, you’ve both been too stupid to look for the signs in that fucking town for the last six months.” The demon grinned again, attempting to get a reaction out of Sam.

   “Avoiding your past will only make it worse, Samuel. Just ask that pretty little blonde, Jessica.” A giggle left your chapped lips. The tension in the room rose as Sam’s fists clenched and he stepped towards your fragile form, intending to interrogate further. But his brother’s hand gripped his forearm before he could take his second step.

   “Too soon?” Your previously beautiful eyes turned from demonic obsidian to their natural colour and the demon twisted your face into an expression that conveyed innocence. It made his stomach churn.

Two more days past before the demon was finally weakening. 

Beads of blood emerged from cuts all over your body and they continued to stain your tattered clothing.

The bags under Sam’s eyes got darker as the hours went on, he hadn’t slept, and he hadn’t stopped trying to loosen the demon’s hold on you.

It was painful and lengthy, like a lot of things that you had gone through in your life. Every once in a while your limbs would move involuntarily, or your throat would emit a high pitched laugh, and every time this happened you felt your body begin to deteriorate further.

Suddenly, something felt different and you saw Sam’s tired face for the first time free from control. The book he held dropped from his hands and he rushed to your side, Dean exiting whatever dark, cold room you were in to get something to clean you up with or something that would ensure you wouldn’t die from your injuries.

Your weak arms lay limp and your neck didn’t seem to have the strength to hold your head up anymore.

   “S..Sam..” Blood had dried under your nose and over the cuts that hatched your arms and they left a grubby, sweaty, sticky feeling all over your skin. Your hands, clammy with sweat, stretched out slightly as your fingernails scratched at the arms of the chair you were still shackled to. The cuffs dug into your ankles and wrists and you looked up, with blurred vision, at the two men who saved your life.

Arms, legs, fingers, toes; you could feel everything. Unfortunately, everything hurt, but at least you knew that you were alive.

Always Tags: @knightofmischief @potato8queen @sherlock44 @too-much-winchester   @krista200022   @mcdoyle22   @lezbianlovebitez @leiassorganaakatestiel @kylorentrsh @trashbutnotforyou @angel-allie-golcha-aroha@thedamnchesters @kickasscas67 @hoe-zier @kyara2015trustnobodyshootfirst @all-ur-friends-r-dead @rhae-winchester @one-shots-supernatural @spn-ayyy @abigrumple @livelovelike555missdestiel67@lemonadegazeelle @elsatxx @superhero-lover101 @jadepc @becs-bunker

Dean tags: @jesuisdabbo @akshi8278 @sonicscrewdriverandtulips

Sam Tags: @commitmenttosparklemotion @carbonated-beverages@galaxyllamaftw @pilaxia

If you are crossed out, either you changed your url and I can’t find you or you don’t exist anymore

Message me if you want to be tagged/untagged

Always accepting tags for Always Tags, or tags for a specific character

REBLOGS, LIKES, and COMMENTS are much appreciated<3

#spnfanfic #SPNFamily #juicifeur #writing is hard #writings of juicifeur #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #sam x reader #sam x y/n #passing through #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural reader insert #demons #possession #angst

[juicifeur]

Passing Through (Pt.2)

Summary: After some time apart, the reader and Sam reunite by chance. And both parties are shocked, to say the least. The problems of two different worlds being so close to each other are finally revealed.

Read Part 1 HERE

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Angst, crying?

A/N: Thanks for reading!

The way someone carried themselves could tell you a lot about them. This guy was confident, but that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

His chest was broad, and he was tall and handsome like the men you usually leaned towards. Everything about this man seemed to appeal to you, except for his incessant, self-centred speech. He didn’t care to ask you where you were from or what a nice girl like you was doing in a dive like this.

Your eyes couldn’t help but take in his clothing choices. Freshly-pressed dress pants and brown leather shoes seemed to be his go-to outfit, hardly one that you might wear to the local bar for a drink.

His lips turned up into a cocky smirk and he flashed his perfectly straight teeth as he spoke. You sipped the cocktail he bought you. It was one of the most expensive ones on the menu but he’d insisted. He didn’t seem to care about throwing his money around to impress people.

   “And I started my own company at the age of nineteen. Bought my first Porsche at 20 and here I am.” The fact that you’d acquired this man’s full family history in less than ten minutes meant that he held himself and his lineage with high regard, so that must mean his money was more of an inherited thing. After all, who could get that big of a loan to start a business without sucking up to his filthy-rich daddy. You just kept nodding along with his story.

   “Well, you sound like you can take care of yourself pretty well.” You tried your best to flirt back, hoping it would lead to some sort of attraction. He may have actually been cute if his ego wasn’t in the way and if he wasn’t trying too hard to compensate for something below the belt.

   “I can take care of you pretty well too, sweetheart.” The man smirked back and his hand ran gently up your forearm. Your instincts told you to get the hell out of there, but when was the last time that had any effect on your actions?

   “One more drink and I might take you up on that.” You finished off the heavily spiked beverage in your hand and ate the cherry. He nodded and smirked again, confident as ever that he was going to get somewhere tonight.

   “You got it. Don’t go anywhere.” He ran a hand over his neatly combed hair and walked off to get back to the bar. 

Subconsciously, you pulled at the tight corners of the outfit you’d chosen for the night. Drawing attention to yourself had become more of a habit since your heart was broken.

The small bar was busy for a Tuesday night, even though it wasn’t the most popular pub in town, but you went here because it was more off the grid. Usually, you went here because it wasn’t busy. There were girls dancing with guys and drinks being spilt, and all the sounds of the bar started to get more and more annoying.  Your eyes travelled around the room, taking in all the faces in the small space. They landed on a few who looked like they needed at least one glass of water, but they landed on one that looked too familiar to you as well. He seemed to do a double take when he saw you.

His hair was a little shorter, and eyes looked tired - they seemed like they’d seen things much worse than what they had two years ago. But he was the same man you remembered, there was no denying that.

   “The signs are all around this town, Sam, you can’t tell me you don’t think it’s suspicious.”

You heard Dean break off their conversation and almost choke on his drink as you marched over to their table furiously. He looked up at you.

   “Y/N? You look-”

   “What? Different? Yeah, I got that.” You glared at both of them. Sam didn’t speak, he just seemed to stare at you. You breathed in heavily and switched between looking at each boy a few times, waiting for them to say something. They didn’t.

   “What the hell are you two doing here.” Your fists were clenched by your sides. Dean looked at Sam, unsure of what to say with the shock that overwhelmed him all of a sudden, and Sam just looked back.

   “Um-”

   “Don’t answer that. You shouldn’t have come back.” You turned your back on them again and started back to your small table.

   “Good thing you let that one go, Sam. Turned into a crazy ex.” You heard Dean scoff under his breath and you stopped dead in your tracks. You turned again and crossed your arms, offended.

   “Excuse me?” Both boys looked as if they had just insulted God himself, fear replaced their blank stares. 

   “Abort, abort,” Dean muttered as you walked back to them and slammed your hand down on their table. You glared at them.

   “I was not the one who abandoned the other in the middle of the night. I’m not the one who didn’t give jack shit for an explanation.” You looked at Sam and the look on his face told you he was still guilty. He bit the inside of his lip and his eyes scanned yours.

   “This seems like an issue for the two of you to work out on your own-” Dean finished his beer and got up but your hand landed on his shoulder and pushed him back down.

   “Sit. You were the one who told him to leave, asshole.” Glaring at the older brother, you reverted back to a straight posture. You couldn’t control what came out of your mouth at this point. Two years of pent-up rage came pouring out, then you stopped.

   “Y/N, let me explain, this is all a misunderstanding,” Dean tried to start before you cut him off. 

   “You know what? I can’t deal with this right now. You sons of bi-” 

   “Hey, gorgeous, I got you a-” Your companion from earlier found you again and looked at both of the men who sat at the table. All of their chests seemed to expand a little like some macho showdown was about to happen. Sam seemed to stiffen.

   “Who are your friends?” The man, whose name you still didn’t know, asked - as if these two other guys being near you didn’t bother him. You rolled your eyes.

   “They’re not my friends. Let’s get out of here.” You sighed, putting the drink that he brought down on the table. Your date looked rather confident that he was the one that got to take you home.

   “Your place or mine.” His smirk grew and he glanced sideways at the boys at the table. You tried your best to act as though the Winchesters weren’t there. But Sam didn’t seem to be trying to hold back his facial expressions. It looked like your date would be murdered if Sam got the chance.

   “Mine.” You answered in a shaky breath. 

   “So long boys.” You hooked your arm through his and smiled obnoxiously at the boys before you left with the guy. Sam and Dean just watched in shock.

An hour later you confirmed your suspicions of compensation and were grateful for a loud knock on your front door.

   “Who’s that?” The man getting dressed asked as he fastened his jeans.

   “I don’t know, just get out.” You pulled a t-shirt on and practically pushed him towards the door. 

   “Hey, hey, what’s the rush? I was having fun.” He tried to kiss you again and you could still smell the product in his perfect hair. You pulled away quickly.

   “Good for you. Unfortunately, you don’t know how to use what you got. Now get out.” You practically growled as you opened your front door and pushed him out with only one shoe on, his clean white sock suddenly dirt-ridden.

   “What the hell?” The guy grumbled as he threw his coat over his shoulder. He glared in your direction and barely dodged his shoe which was thrown at him. 

   “Bitch.” He muttered, picking it up off the ground and sauntering toward his red Porsche parked on the curb, right in front of a black Impala.

 You turned your head to greet the man standing on your doorstep.

   “Sam.”

   “Hi.” He responded, sighing deeply.

   “Can I come in?” He asked, nodding his head into the house. You nodded back nervously and let him enter.

You made him a peppermint tea to be polite, but you knew that was his favourite.

   “Thanks.” He sipped carefully so he wouldn’t get burnt.

   “What are you guys doing back here?” You could barely look him in the eyes.

   “We’re pass-”

   “Passing through, right. Should have known-”

   “I didn’t want to leave, Y/N.” Sam said suddenly. The room went quiet for a moment

   “Then why did you? Why did you leave? We could have worked whatever it was out.” You felt your eyes begin to water and you leaned on your counter.

   “You didn’t even leave a note. Or a text. I tried to call you but your number changed.” You crossed your arms and you could hear your voice breaking. Sam was looking down at his mug.

   “I thought it would be better that way.” He mumbled through locks of his hair.

   “Well, it wasn’t.”

   “I get that now. Look, if you want to get back together-”

   “No, Sam I don’t want to get back together!” Your decibels in your voice cut through the quiet speaking. He was looking right at you, shocked that such a loud noise could come out of your mouth. You were crying. 

   “Just tell me why you left. Please.” Your voice broke as tears ran down your cheeks and Sam kept staring at you. His eyes glassed over as he watched you break down right in front of him.

   “Tell me why you left, Sam, please tell me what I did-”

   “Nothing, Y/N, you didn’t do anything, listen to me.” He resisted the urge to reach across the counter and take your hands. You looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes and you sniffled.

   “Dean,” Sam breathed out.

   “Dean said I shouldn’t see you anymore, Y/N. He told me it was dangerous to keep coming back here. That I could lead something here.” He sighed deeply in his chest and he looked sincerely into your face. You watched as his hands folded around his mug.

   “I didn’t explain, and that wasn’t fair to you. I’m- I’m sorry.” He bit the inside of his lip again and ran a hand through his hair. You nodded your head and felt a weight lifted off of you. The ache in your heart eased, and you felt Sam’s hand drift over yours. The tears ran freely down your cheeks as you finally had your answer.

Two years of throwing yourself into situations you knew you would regret, and it was all for that apology. 

Your stomach seemed to flip slightly and you felt lightheaded. Your vision turned darker and your limbs seemed to go numb, but they still moved and held you up.

   “Y/N?” Sam’s voice beckoned. You looked up at him and pulled your hand away. His eyes were full of regret.

   “Are you okay?” He asked.

   “Will- will you stay with me tonight?” You asked softly, not recognizing your own voice. Some part of you wanted him to agree. For some reason, your fight or flight instincts began to kick in

   “Um.” He mumbled.

   “Nevermind, that was a dumb question...” You looked down. 

   “I should...I should go.” Sam said, standing up and quickly walking towards the door. He paused and turned to look at you again.

   “Y/N, we can’t see each other. Not again. I can’t.” He looked back at you and you felt your heart break for the second time. 

   “Did you stop loving me? We can make it work, I know we-”

   “No, Y/N.” Sam said, frustrated. You felt a heavy breath leave your chest and your hands lifted to wipe your eyes.

   “Thought I had you there.” Sam’s expression changed to fear as your eyes turned black. He stumbled back and reached for his gun. But your hand lifted again and he flung backwards against the wall.

You were trapped inside your own body.

   “Y/N, I know you’re in there. You can fight this-” Sam was cut off when his windpipe was. Your arm was extended and seemed to be choking him through the air, your heart sped up, beating furiously. You screamed for him to help you, but your mouth didn’t open and your voice made no sound. It was just as if there were weights on your ankles, holding you down and keeping you from moving, interrupting.

   “Finally,” The thing controlling you finally spoke.

   “Been waiting a long time for you, Sammy.” It let him go and he took in a sharp breath to refill his lungs. The corners of your mouth turned up into a smirk and Sam Winchester looked genuinely scared.

   “Let Y/N go, this has nothing to do with-” His throat closed up again and there was a sickening laugh that came from inside your skull. It echoed loudly enough to cloud your thoughts.

   “Sam! Help me!” You shrieked, and the presence laughed again. 

   “He can’t do anything to help you, now, all he can do is-”

 A gunshot rang out and you felt a searing pain in your thigh. A scream ripped through your chest and the force that had taken over you laughed again.

   “You shot me? That can’t do much.” It said. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Dean standing in the doorway with a soft plume of smoke coming from his pistol.

   “Unless there’s a devil’s trap carved into the bullet.”

To be continued   

Always Tags: @knightofmischief @potato8queen @sherlock44 @too-much-winchester   @krista200022   @mcdoyle22   @lezbianlovebitez @leiassorganaa@katestiel @kylorentrsh @trashbutnotforyou @angel-of-death23 @angel-allie-golcha-aroha @thedamnchesters @kickasscas67 @hoe-zier @kyara2015 @trustnobodyshootfirst @all-ur-friends-r-dead @rhae-winchester @one-shots-supernatural @spn-ayyy @abigrumple @livelovelike555 @missdestiel67 @lemonadegazeelle @elsatxx @superhero-lover101 @jadepc @becs-bunker

Sam Tags: @commitmenttosparklemotion @carbonated-beverages  @galaxyllamaftw @pilaxia

Not on a tag list but I thought might like to read part 2: @gallifreyansass @growningupgeek @broken-angel-withashotgun

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[juicifeur]

Grounded (Winchesters + sister!reader)

Anon asked: Hey Can I please get a sisfic where she's like late teens (idc) and she sneaks a hellhound she rescued into the bunker and the boys are pissed when they finally discover it? Maybe they want to throw it out but she insists on going if the dogs going, so she waits outside in the rain or something until they agree to let her keep it? Idk I'm horrible at these hahaha :)

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: none? Teen angst? Sass?

A/N: Thank you for the request! I don’t know if this is what you wanted though

Crowley had been on your brothers' asses lately about keeping their noses out of his business, but all you were able to think about was whether or not you could keep your big fat mouth shut about him getting involved in their business; and yours. You were waist deep in his business with your smuggled pet if you could even call it that.

In every book or wiki page you had read over that mentioned hellhounds, it described a demonic creature that tore flesh from bone and brought people to a bloody afterlife. They were said to have long fang-like teeth, tough skin, claws like talons and eyes that glowed red; all in all, they weren’t supposed to be very nice. Every other one you’d met was the latter; except for the one in your basement.

Hellhounds could just look like a breed of pitbull with pure black fur. You’d figured out that demons could manipulate the way that humans perceived their hounds, just like they could manipulate how they could be seen themselves. Sure, the dog was a little different - his pupils were red and he had a particular taste for red meat, very red meat, and his claws were sharp no matter how much you tried to file them down - but those were just minor details.

  “Where are you taking that?” Your older brother Sam looked up from the dimly lit table against the wall in the tiny kitchen. You had a raw steak, wrapped in plastic, tucked under your shirt. Apparently, that wasn’t a good enough hiding place.

  “Um, downstairs. Testing how sharp my knives are. This is the closest thing we have to flesh.” You lied. Sam glanced at you and nodded briefly.

  “Just bring it back when you’re done.” He went back to the article that was occupying the screen of his laptop without so much as a sceptical comment. You assumed that your eldest brother, Dean, had the intention of cooking it. But he could get another one. Breathing out, you made your way down to room 7B.

You left the door unlocked most of the time, but you carried a key with you just in case. You pushed aside the shelves at the back of the room that held many boxes of previous Men Of Letters cases and you pulled the heavy door open, the metal squealing across the cracked cement floor. The Hellhound lay in a small dark heap in the corner of the dungeon, breathing softly, and you approached it with caution. You’d made a point to douce your glasses in Holy fire just so you could see it without getting your hand bitten off.

The Hellhound was still young, you weren’t sure if you could call it a puppy, but by no circumstance did that mean that it didn’t have the potential to be dangerous.

It growled in its throat as you got closer, teeth gleaming as its lips lifted in a snarl, and you stopped moving. It was surprising that such a small, harmless-looking creature could churn up so much apprehension in you.

  “I won’t hurt you.” You muttered, holding your hands out. The animal sat up as you dropped the now unwrapped steak on the ground in front of you, wanting it to come closer. The scent of the meat seemed to peak its interest. Its nose pointed upwards and it took careful steps toward you. The red eyes of the dog bore into yours, watching for signs that you might attack it, watching for a challenge; but you took a step back, having no intention of doing anything to harm it.

  “It’s okay. I just brought you food.” You told it. The animal walked quickly up to the steak and took it. Like a puppy does, it laid down and chewed on the meat with its small sharp teeth. It was kind of cute.

  “See? Not that bad huh? I’m just gonna go around here and look at your leg.” There was a ring wound around the pup’s leg that resembled a mark that shackles would make. Clearly, young Hellhounds were of no use to Crowley. You still had a suspicion that the puppy did not show up at your doorstep by accident. It was just an easy place to leave it, although you had no idea why Crowley would want to leave the Winchesters with a Hellhound.

   “What the hell is that?” Your oldest brother Dean’s voice boomed from behind you, the sound vibrating off the walls. You turned your head quickly to meet his eyes and he glared in your direction. His shoulders were stiff and his hands rested on his hips.

   “Y/N, what the hell is that.” He said again. This time as more of an angry statement. 

   “Would you believe me if I said it was nothing?” Your voice shook with nervousness and you felt the tiny animal brushing up against your leg, the steak was gone. Carefully you picked it up and held it to your chest where it seemed to calm down and look at Dean with its piercing red eyes. 

You watched your brother’s face go pale and his jaw clenched as he recognized the creature.

   “Is- Y/N tell me that is not a Hellhound.” He pointed at the puppy in your arms.

   “Get that thing out of here. Now.” He said, fear in his voice. Dean’s history with Hellhounds wasn’t exactly spotless.

   “Dean, he’s just a baby he can’t hurt-”

   “Out now, Y/N! That thing is dangerous.”

   “If he goes out, I go too.” You threatened.

   “Fine by me, as long as that thing isn’t in the bunker.” Dean glared and practically dragged you to the front door.

Just your luck, it had started to pour rain.

Your hair clung to your cheeks and neck and your clothes were heavy with water as you tried to shelter yourself under the overhang above the large front door. The puppy in your arms shivered and you felt terrible for trying and failing to transfer some of your body heat to it.

   “Don’t worry the rain will stop soon.” You mumbled as you tucked him into the front of your sweater, he licked your chin and then curled himself against your chest. 

Thunder clapped from above and cold rain fell against your cheek; you knew you’d spoken too soon. You sighed deeply.  Two muffled voices got closer to the door behind your back and you tightened your arms around yourself, hunched over on the ground.

   “Sammy, its a Hellhound.” You heard Dean say.

   “Dude, it's like this big,” You could only imagine that Sam was exaggerating how small the animal was and making Dean feel like a wuss.

   “It’s just a baby, what could it do to you?” The younger of your brothers finished. You heard the latch being released on the thick metal door and you looked up as their head poked out into the cold weather.

Sam was quick to pull you inside and grab as many blankets as he could find so your shivering would be subdued. Den was reluctant to get near you with red eyes staring out from your sweatshirt at him.

   “He doesn’t bite, Dean.” You glared at him and he rolled his eyes.

   “I’m not worried about him, it’s his mom I’m worried about.” His eyes were set uneasily on the face of the puppy that he knew couldn’t be as cute on the inside as it was on the outside. 

   “Crowley doesn’t want anything to do with him, you’re fine. Don’t be a wimp about it. At this point he’s harmless.” You rolled your eyes and looked at Sam who also looked a little uneasy.

   “So, the King of Hell just dropped him on the doorstep and said good luck? Yeah right, I’m not buying it. He’s probably some kind of spy. Harmless hellhound, that’s an oxymoron if I’ve ever heard one. He’s probably plotting to kill us in our sleep or something-”

   “Dean!”

   “What?”

   “Shut up.” Sam glared at his brother and looked back to you with a look of sympathy gracing his features.

   “Look, Y/N, this thing is tiny now but it’s gonna get bigger. A lot bigger. There’s no way to tell if we can trust it.”

   “I can train it.” You scratched the tiny animal behind its ears and his spine curled into your chest in content. Sam sighed.

   “Does it have a name?” Sam asked as he got closer. He ran his hand over the creatures back.

   “Sam, are you kidding me?” Dean protested.

   “What if it’s got some sort of disease?”

   “Dean, chill out. Does this look dangerous to you?” Sam took the baby Hellhound from your arms and carried it toward Dean.

   “Well no but-”

   “If he goes then I go too.” You glared at your oldest brother, knowing full well how Dean felt about you leaving on your own. You crossed your arms over your chest and stared at both of your brothers.

   “Fine. But I’m not cleaning up after it.” Dean muttered, seeming to come around. His hand snaked from his pocket and he gave the puppy a small pat on the head.

Always Tags: @knightofmischief @potato8queen @sherlock44 @too-much-winchester   @krista200022   @mcdoyle22   @thegameisafootwatson @leiassorganaa @arixky@katestiel @kylorentrsh @trashbutnotforyou @angel-allie-exol-army@thedamnchesters @kickasscas67 @hoe-zier @kyara2015@trustnobodyshootfirst @all-ur-friends-r-dead @rhae-winchester @one-shots-supernatural @spn-imagineers @abigrumple @livelovelike555 @missdestiel67@lemonadegazeelle @elsatxx @superhero-lover101 @jadepc

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[juicifeur]

Passing Through

@itsbabysinger-idjit (now deactivated) asked: How about a little something where Sam visits the reader after a spat with Dean? They aren’t dating, but they’re close, have feelings for each other?

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: language, implied smut, fluff, angst

A/N: I took a little creative license and made it a long distance thing. There will be a second part of this - Also thank you for 3.4k

You stared, shocked, at the man on your front doorstep as freezing air billowed into your home. He was barely wearing a jacket but he managed to give you a smile. His lips were slightly blue and his teeth chattered gently.

   “Sam?” 

    “Hi.” 

A cold gust went past you and goosebumps instantly rose on your arms. You shivered. 

    “Get your ass in here before you freeze to death.” You grabbed his cold hands and tugged him through the front door; the shiny Impala was nowhere to be seen. You sighed deeply, shutting the door behind him. The tip of his nose was red and he slowly pulled his hands out of his pockets. You glared at him a little as he took off his shoes, but his fingers were numb so it would take him a while. 

The snow clung to his shoes and the flakes started to melt off of his eyelashes, it was clear he had been out there for a while.

   “So, when you lost your soul did you lose your brain too?” You giggled softly.

   “Nice to see you too.” He chuckled lightly, sniffling and shrugging off his coat. His hazel eyes met yours only to see that you were rushing through the living room trying to find a blanket. 

   “Where’s Dean?” You asked as he stood up. You threw a blanket over his shoulders and pulled him to your kitchen, where he could warm up.

   “Bar somewhere.” He responded. It was clear he had walked here after an argument. You hadn’t even known they were in town.

   “What was it about?” You asked as your fingers turned the dial on the wall, turning up the heat.

Sam just shrugged. His eyes looked red at the rims and like they were glossed over, he looked hurt.

   “I see.” You started a kettle on the stove and got out two mugs from the cabinet. You set them on the counter as you watched Sam Winchester settle on your couch. 

It was silly to see such a big guy curl up in a fuzzy blanket. His eyes wandered around the room and he started looking at the books that you kept on your side table. His long fingers flipped through a few pages before he looked up, hearing the whistling of the kettle. You realized you were staring.

Sam only came to town occasionally, which meant that every time you saw him it was limited. You’d gotten used to it, and you didn’t blame him for being busy. But you appreciated every second you could get with him.

   “So, uh- what are you guys doing here?” You poured the hot water into the mugs and it soaked into the tea bags slowly, filling the room with the smell of peppermint.

   “Just passing through,” Sam said, watching as you carried the two drinks towards him. You couldn’t help the slight punch to the gut that gave you, but you understood. He took one of the mugs gratefully and just held onto it, warming his hands. His chestnut hair fell around his face as he inhaled the scented steam. He looked like hell, to be honest.

   “Thanks.” He glanced at you and sipped carefully from the hot cup. You smiled softly and sat down beside him as the house began to warm.

In between roaming hands and heavy breathing, you pulled a heavy duvet from the hall closet over Sam’s long legs and yourself on the couch. He hummed, setting down his mug. It must have been close to midnight and the streetlights outside cast an orange tinge across the snow-covered street. Snow wasn’t uncommon at this time of the year, especially where you were from.

Sams large palms came to rest on your hips as he pulled you closer, nearly on his lap, as you warmed up. You smiled softly.

   “You know, it’s been a while since you’ve stopped by.” You breathed out, leaning towards him, your lips inches apart. Sam chuckled in the back of his throat and finally leaned in all the way, giving you a taste of what you’d been missing the last few months. He hummed softly as his thumb brushed the side of your cheek.

   “I know, but I’m here now.” His tongue ran gently over your lower lip and you smiled.

   “Before we get too carried away, can we go somewhere more comfortable. Maybe with fewer windows?” You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning your forehead against his. He nodded and stood up, taking you with him with your legs wrapped around his waist. He grinned, his teeth running timidly down your neck as he walked.

Dim light flooded the room as the hours of the morning crept on. Sam’s arm lay under your neck, and one rested across your torso. Your head tucked into the crook of his neck as your bodies cooled off.

The sheets of your bed were tangled around your legs and Sam’s fingers absentmindedly traced the grooves of your hips.

   “It was about you.” He mumbled after a long period of warm, comfortable silence. You tilted your head up and looked at him as your hand rested on his bare chest. He took a deep breath.

   “Dean said that I shouldn’t keep coming back here. He said it’s not safe.” His arms seemed to pull you closer by themselves and he kissed your forehead. His body heat enveloped you and kept you warm, and it seemed like it would for a long time; although you felt your stomach clench at his words and you held onto him a little tighter.

   “But you came anyway.” You smiled softly and he nodded. All other thoughts abandoned you and you gently kissed his cheek.

   “Yeah, Y/N, I came anyway…” Sam’s hands held you securely to his side as your mind began to drift like the snow. His lips quivered like he had to say something else, but he held his tongue and just laid with you under the covers as exhaustion settled in.

The first time you saw Sam Winchester, you were waiting tables at the diner on the main strip of town. He was wearing a crisp business suit with a long black coat and speaking with a colleague of his. These men could have been on Wall Street making a thousand per week for all you knew. They walked into the diner, an odd place for someone dressed like they were, and just your luck, they sat in your section.

A man in the corner booth looked up from his newspaper briefly as they entered, his eyes fixed on their faces for a moment, then he returned to reading. He only lifted his slightly bloodshot eyes again when you refilled his coffee.

From far away, the two strangers were attractive. But close up you could see that they were much more so.

   “What can I get the two of-”

   “Bacon cheeseburger, Coke, he’ll have a salad and a water.” The man with the shorter hair answered with a heavy breath before you could even finish your sentence. The taller one, even though they were both easily over six feet, gave you an awkward smile, as if to apologize for his partner’s manners. 

It was clear to you that they were dealing with some frustrations. For good reason too, they looked like cops. 

There had been a string of murders in town lately, and they all followed the same pattern. Major organs, specifically hearts, were ripped from the victim’s body. It was straight out of a sci-fi murder mystery.

You nodded and jotted down their orders on your notepad. The men resumed talking as you walked away.

The man in the corner’s eyes were fixed on you.

A few days after, the two men returned to the diner and chose to sit at the bar. They’d been in three times in the last four days and you appreciated the change of scenery. They were quite easy on the eyes. You smiled softly at the second of the two, with longer hair, as you wiped down the counter.

The previous night, the two strangers showed up at your apartment building, rambling about your impending doom. Kindly enough, you let them in, for it wasn’t often you got to experience excitement in your boring life.

They hunted monsters was what they told you. And at first, you thought they were joking. But you soon learned that the things that go bump in the night were a lot more than just stories.

Long story short, the man in the corner was gone for good. And you were glad he was, you might be dead by now if he wasn’t. 

   “Back again?” You asked as the boys’ long legs eased them down into the stools. Sam’s cheek sported a few scratches on his face and his brother Dean had a large bruise forming on his chest. It was a good thing his clothes covered that.

   “He couldn’t just roll on out of town without saying goodbye, could you, Sammy?” The man beside Sam chuckled, sipping a coffee you’d already set out for him. You looked back to the second man.

   “Is that so, Sammy?” You smiled again and you could see a small blush creep up on his cheeks. They were dressed in far less formal outfits today. Green canvas jackets, and biker-like boots, and jeans. Rather casual for two FBI agents, even if they were off the job.

   “It’s Sam.” He corrected, throwing a glare at his colleague.

   “And I guess so.” He smiled back, trying to be friendly.

   “Well, that makes two of us.” Testing the waters, you flirted with him. Sam smiled broadly and his teeth grazed his bottom lip.

They’d saved your life, it seemed appropriate to try and repay the favour. 

When you woke up, the sunlight was almost blinding, so much so that you had to shut your eyes again. The clean sheets were still wrapped around you, confining you to the bed in a peaceful embrace. They were soft. 

A fresh sheet of snow covered the ground overnight and it gave the outside world a clean, pure look. Your hair matted in the back and tangled, you turned over on your pillow to curl into Sam, who was always warm and would hopefully provide you with some of it.

You reached blindly for his hand, or his forearm, but you missed, your arm going to rest limply on the bed. It seemed he was pulling away playfully in the thrawls of being half-asleep.

   “Sam…” You giggled softly, your eyes opening again a little. He wasn’t there.

His side of the bed was cold.

   “Sam?” You sat up, pulling the sheets with you. The halls were as silent as they always were in the morning like no one else had even entered this house in the past twelve hours.

Sometimes when he came to visit, Sam would get up early to run. But it was far too cold, even for him. Maybe he was making coffee, but you didn’t smell it. You swung your legs over the edge of your bed and set them down on the floor to get on some sort of shirt. Socks, too while you were at it.

The light flooded the room as you opened your bedroom door and went down the hall. There weren’t any sounds that would indicate someone else was here. Sam’s shoes were gone, as was his jacket that had been shed on the floor at some point in the night. The wine glasses were clean on the counter near the sink along with the mugs that held the peppermint tea. The blanket that had covered him lay, folded, on the arm of the sofa. It was like he had never been there. 

To be continued…

Always Tags: @knightofmischief @potato8queen @sherlock44 @too-much-winchester   @krista200022   @mcdoyle22   @lezbianlovebitez @leiassorganaa @katestiel @kylorentrsh @trashbutnotforyou @angel-allie-golcha-aroha @thedamnchesters @kickasscas67 @hoe-zier @kyara2015 @trustnobodyshootfirst @all-ur-friends-r-dead @rhae-winchester @one-shots-supernatural @spn-ayyy @abigrumple @livelovelike555 @missdestiel67@lemonadegazeelle @elsatxx @superhero-lover101 @jadepc @becs-bunker

Sam Tags: @commitmenttosparklemotion @carbonated-beverages @galaxyllamaftw @pilaxia

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[juicifeur]

Heaven (John x reader)

 This is for @riversong-sam’s birthday challenge! Happy (belated) birthday! ~Lyrics are in italics~

Based on the song: Heaven by Bryan Adams

Warnings: PTSD, flashbacks + descriptions of Mary’s death, implied abusive!John, language, mentions of smut but nothing graphic

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: This is my first ever John fic!! and I got heavy feels while writing the first part, I expect more to come. Feedback would be amazing!!

John sat up, again, in a cold sweat; his chest heaved as his lungs sucked in the cool air of the room he was in. It was how he woke up most of the time.

His clammy hand ran over his forehead, down his cheeks and back up again, through his hair, to soothe the aching in his temples. For once, the oxygen he breathed in didn’t have a tang of old beer or dust, or mold; it was clean air, and he lay on clean sheets.

He looked around the dark room slowly as his eyes adjusted to the low light, and he remembered where he was. To his left, there was a shape under the covers, breathing steadily; and he decided not to wake you, he’d already caused you enough inconvenience. Carefully, he peeled the sheets from over his legs and he set his feet on the cold hardwood floor. Usually a drink would satisfy his body’s need to sleep; maybe paired with a few sleeping pills, and he would finally get a full five or six hours.

He wished he didn’t have to, and the drinking seemed to make his dreams worse, more vivid, but it was the only way he could get those few hours of peace. As he left the room, his hand pulled the door shut, quietly.

The small kitchen down the hall had white cabinets that he avoided looking at during the day, but at night they were tinted grey from the darkness. His calloused, shaky fingers wrapped around the refrigerator handle and he pulled it open with little effort. The beer he’d bought on the way into town seemed to be gone; he’d drank it all within a few nights. With a heavy sigh, he straightened up and closed the fridge door, glancing around the room for something else.

He settled on a bottle of whiskey that was hidden in the back of one of the cupboards. By now he knew all of your hiding spots, much to your dismay. His neck craned until he found the neck of the glass object and he pulled it out, setting it gingerly on the table, the amber liquid making a sloshing sound as it stopped moving. John poured himself a glass, over a few ice cubes of course, and noticed his leather-bound journal laying across the kitchen table, where he’d left it earlier in the day. He paid no mind to the book, and continued on his way into the living room. He switched on the TV, not for any particular reason, but maybe it would occupy his mind for the time being. He sat down in one of the arm chairs that faced the television set, which was casting a low blue light over the room, and he let his head tilt back against the cushion of the headrest, exhaling slowly. He brought the cool glass to his lip and took a long drink of the alcohol, hoping the taste would stay there. Quicker than he’d hoped, he downed the whiskey and his eyes shut as he savoured the burning feeling. His muscles seemed to instantly relax.

John started back down the short hallway to get back to the bedroom. By then it must have been just after one in the morning. And here was no way to tell how long he would stay awake when he couldn’t sleep; hours felt like minutes.

At the end of the hall, his eyes were beginning to succumb to sleep and he pinched the bridge of his nose, pressing his thumb and forefinger over his eyes so he could at least make it back to bed without bumping into anything. Once his vision cleared up, his feet carried him all the way to the door and he paused. To his recollection, he had shut the door to the bedroom when he’d left, but it now was sightly ajar; and a glowing orange light was emanating from within.

  “No..” He muttered before he was advancing on the door. He grabbed the handle and threw it open, only to be met with flames, hot and unrelenting, engulfing the ceiling and walls.

He shielded his face with his forearm and subconsciously looked for a crib as the fire crackled loudly, seemingly laughing at his efforts.

  “Sammy, Sam..” He muttered, sweat building on the back of his neck and on his forehead. His legs seemed to stiffen, only allowing for slight movements when he wanted to go as fast as he could. His hands searched the blazing room blindly for his six-month-old son. The shirt he’d worn to bed clung to his body as sweat poured from his skin as the white-orange flames licked at the walls, intending to have the whole room, John included, for themselves.

   “T-take your brother outside..” John called, voice breaking and unsure who he was talking to. Vaguely he thought of his four year old son. His cheeks were flushed from the heat as his fists clenched around the thick air in the room. John could practically taste the smoke on his tongue as he tried to breathe in the little oxygen that was left, the oxygen that hadn’t already consumed by the blaze.

  “John,” Someone called, softly. Freezing in place, his face suddenly pale and terrified, John Winchester looked up at the ceiling and felt his heart lurch, then stop altogether as shock overcame him.

  “No!..” He gasped, knees beginning to buckle beneath him. The heat of the flames laboring his breathing.

Blood seeped from her stomach, staining the pure white nightgown a deep red, and her golden hair reflecting the light of the fire before it singed and turned to blackened dust. Her green eyes were wide with pain, regret, dread; an expression that haunted his subconscious each time his own eyes shut. A strangled cry left her rose-coloured lips as the flames enveloped her limbs, crawled up her torso, and tongued at her unblemished skin, leaving harsh red welts that only spread. He remembered the smell clearly.

John sat up suddenly, drenched in sweat once again. His breathing slowed to normal as he looked around the room. The living room, he’d never made it back to bed. The glass that had held his whiskey was shattered on the floor, clearly dropped from when he’d dozed off. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and running both hands over his face.

  “Fuck...” He mumbled to himself, swiping tears away with the back of  his hand.

The dreams that plagued him only enhanced his need for revenge, an answer; just something that would ease his tormented mind.

By now, the sun was barely up, casting a gentle orange light through the window, sparkling over the frost-covered ground.  It felt like he was serving a sentence, and the only way to get out of that prison was to find whoever, or whatever, took her away from him.  

It had been five years since Mary died.

                              Oh - thinkin' about all our younger years                                       There was only you and me                                  We were young and wild and free

John delicately held a tiny photograph of his wife, her hair yellow as the grass that grew in the fall, as he sipped the black coffee from a mug. It was often that he remembered Mary and their former life together; and he still wore his wedding ring. Sometimes on his left hand, sometimes around his neck on a chain. It would have only been their tenth anniversary earlier this year.

He liked to think of Mary as she was when they were first married; perfect in every way, young, and hopeful. He tried to only remember her this way, but when he was asleep, and drunk, he had no control over his most recent and petrifying memory. Sometimes he thought of his boys, and if they had grown up normally, staying in one place long enough for them to go to school. He thought of how much better it would be if they had a mother around; if he had been fast enough to get her out. Whenever he wasn’t thinking about the way she died, his mind eased and shifted to solace.

Lately, and luckily enough for him, one of the only things that kept him sane was you.

The first time the two of you met, he was covered in blood and scratches from a hunt he’d been on, and he needed help. Unfortunately, you were the only one who would be willing to be up for the task. John Winchester was notorious; but he’d needed a few stitches and a warm place to sleep.

                             Now nothin' can take you away from me                                  We've been down that road before                                      

  “John?” You asked softly, approaching the chair where he sat in your living room, you had no way of knowing how long he’d been there. You saw him tuck something away in his jean pocket and he stood up.

  “Morning.” He smiled softly, unconvincingly.

  “How long have you been up?” You asked, crossing your arms across your chest, attempting to preserve your body heat on this cool October morning. He came closer to you and pressed a warm kiss to your lips. He was firm about it, you could tell he was stressed.

  “Not long.” He finally said, leaving you slightly breathless with the feeling of his stubble on your skin. You knew he was lying. On average he got about four hours of sleep. It was a wonder how he managed to function. He gazed down into your Y/E/C eyes and sighed from deep in his chest.

  “I gotta head out again.” He told you. You expected that, you nodded slowly.

When John stayed with you, it was brief. And usually only consisted of three things: lots of drinks, sex, and home-cooked meals. Then after a few days he was on the road again, and you knew for a fact that what you had with him was only temporary, reoccurring one night stands.

You were no stranger to things that went bump in the night, God knows you’d come across a few in your day, so you helped him with research whenever he needed it, of course, in the company of his favourite whiskey.

There were many nights he showed up at your doorstep, battered and bruised, and he just needed a place to put his frustration; you did your best to help him. You spent hours under the sheets, bodies covered in sweat, muscles tense, hands pulling and grabbing as you gave your body to him, allowed him to do whatever he needed to. Maybe it wasn’t exactly a healthy relationship, but John appreciated every second you had to spare.

In the first couple of years that Mary was gone, he wouldn’t dare dream of sleeping with anyone else, but now that he was hunting full time, it took a toll. And he needed a way to reduce his stress.

                                              But that's over now                                  You keep me comin' back for more

His bag was already packed and near the front door. And as much as you hated to see him leave, he had to go save the world; you would be here when he got back.

  “Well, stay in touch.” You gave him a soft smile. He never did, but you liked to think he at least thought about you while he was away.

  “I’ll try.” He gave you one last nod and he made his way towards the door. You followed, to see him off. As he passed the kitchen, he avoided the white cabinets, pretending to scratch the side of his face. The sleek black car, a ‘67 Chevrolet Impala, sat near the curb as he loaded his bag in the trunk and got into the driver’s seat. As he pulled away, you gave a small wave. He smiled that classic smile of his and he drove down the street.

You hoped he would stop by Bobby Singer’s place to see his kids. On the off chance someone in the area of a case couldn’t, and Bobby didn’t have any cases of his own, John would leave them with him. But if Bobby was busy, John would call you.

Dean was turning ten in January, 1989, and Sam was turning six in May. They were growing fast, and the last time you babysat, you’d noticed bruises on Dean’s forearms and wrist. You’d asked him what happened, and he’d looked down told you that ‘Dad drinks too much sometimes.’ You remembered how your stomach dropped and how you’d knelt in front of him, hoping it wasn’t true. You cared for that boy like he was your own son sometimes.

  “Dad says I need to build work on my aim.” Dean had said in a small voice. Obviously John already had him shooting, training. Even though Dean wasn’t keen on your attention, or your attention on his father particularly, he still knew when something wasn’t right.

That set you on edge a little, and you gave Bobby a call. He was as worried about it as you were, knowing full-well what John intended for the boys.

John did have a tendency to overreact, even about little things, especially when he was drinking, but you didn’t think he would go so far as to hurt his oldest son. It could be a symptom, you thought, with his history in the Marines and what he’d been through, it wouldn’t surprise you in the least.

You tried not to think about it too much, but if it happened again and you were there to notice it, you’d have to say something.

Dean had to be grown up from the minute his father started hunting full-time; Sam needed someone if his father wouldn’t be there.

                             Oh - once in your life you find someone                                    Who will turn your world around                            

Days turned into weeks and you heard nothing from John Winchester, which wasn’t abnormal by any means. So, you went about your daily life as normal, going to work and checking in on other hunters, or providing them with a place to stay if they needed it.

John seemed to show up at your door the minute you were sure he wasn’t coming back.

There was a knock on your door a little after midnight. Your usual reaction was to pick up your shotgun and look through the peephole. When you were met with three sets of eyes, familiar eyes, you tossed your gun back to the closet and flung the door open, something must have been wrong.

His boots tracked small clumps of dirt onto the floor and you supported the older man’s weaker side for him. There was a wide tear in his old flannel shirt, under where his ribs were and blood bubbled out of the wound slowly, his fingers clamping over the sliced skin. Little Sam and Dean were at his flank, looking sleepy, like they had just woken up. As per usual, John had on a brave face for them; and for you.

                             Bring you up when you're feelin' down

  “Boys, why don’t you go to the kitchen, I think there’s a few muffins left.” You swallowed hard and shuttled them in. There was another bruise on Dean’s arm. Sighing, you turned on the TV set to keep them distracted and went back to your front door, where John was leaning. He gave you a weak smile.

  “Always show up in pieces don’t you, John,” You stated, moving under his arm and supporting him all the way down to the end of the hall where the bathroom was, he didn’t bother avoiding the white cabinets this time.

  “Where would the excitement be if I didn’t?” He chuckled, his breath coming out slightly laboured. You sat him down on the edge of the bathtub and quickly pulled your first aid kit from under the sink.

  “What was it this time?” You dared to ask. John chuckled softly, leaning back on his arm a little. He always managed to joke around with you.

  “Rusty saw.” You pulled his flannel off and cut through the shirt he was wearing underneath with a pair of medical scissors so you could access the slice. You pressed an anti-septic wipe to it and his jaw clenched up, his eyes shutting. You sopped up some of the blood with a paper towel.

This must have hurt like a bitch but at least now it wouldn’t get infected.

  “Alright, alright, it was a Shtriga. Almost got Sammy...”

  “What?” You pressed your fingers to the wound firmly and looked up at him in surprise. His muscles tensed under your harsh touch.

  “The boys were with you?” You scolded. John groaned softly again.

  “They were back at the motel. Dean was watching him, but it got back to them before I did...Dean,” He tsked, taking a breath.

“I could blame him. He didn’t pull the trigger when he needed to; but it was my fault. I missed the kill. Shoulda taught him better.”

  “John Winchester, I swear to fucking God. You know one of you could have died right?” You cleaned the wound quickly, causing him to groan, arching away from your hands.

  “Jesus- Y/N! Gentle.” He practically growled, white-knuckling the side of the porcelain tub. His muscles contracted and then relaxed as you began threading your needle with fishing line.

                      Yeah - nothin' could change what you mean to me                                      Oh there's lots that I could say

  “You know I could tell you off, tell you to find someone else to run to when your guts are dragging behind you.” You spat. John scoffed.

  “Go ahead.” He threatened.

  “No.”

  “Why’s that?” He asked as you turned to grab a cotton swab. You doused it with alcohol and ran it over the needle to sterilize it.

  “Because you mean too damn much to this world.” You knelt in front of him, the sharp metal object between your steady fingertips.

To you. He meant too damn much to you, you wanted to say. You’d managed to hold your tongue this long, you weren’t quitting now.

Even if John Winchester managed to cause the end of the world, or if he broke your heart, it wouldn’t change how you felt about him; not in the slightest. And you didn’t know why. It was toxic but you couldn’t deny what you felt.

  “They’ve been staying with the motel manager, going to school like they’re supposed to.” He bit his lip and hissed softly as the needle passed through his skin.

  “Those boys are the only family you got, John. ‘Should be more careful.” You taped gauze over the closed cut and stood up, putting the first aid kit back under the sink. When you straightened, you walked out of the bathroom without another word. He got up, still holding his side, and he followed you.

  “Y/N, just talk to me for a second.” He caught up to you surprisingly quickly and his hand wrapped around your arm, stopping you in the middle of the hall. He had a strong grip and a very authoritative voice.

  “About what, John?” You fired back in a hushed tone, seeing the boys, both sitting on the grey shag carpet in front of the TV. You looked back up into John’s eyes.

  “About the fact that you’d hunt whatever killed your wife, god rest her soul, to the ends of the earth rather than be a decent father? Maybe about your boys How their childhoods are going?” You glared up into his dark eyes, everything that you’d ever thought wrong of him pouring out.

In a way, you understood. He was just trying to protect them, and the only way he could do that was prepare them. But that didn’t make it right. He seemed to be in shock from the weight of your words.

  “I know...” John said, he blinked and kept his eyes shut for a few moments, processing.

  “But I need to do this.” He told you, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek gently.

  “I need to find what killed her...if I don’t it’ll eat me alive, it already has been.” He exhaled heavily, you sighed.

Sometimes when he was really wasted, he was just as worried about you being pinned to the ceiling in his nightmares. He didn’t want to see you in that situation, however it might arise. Although he would never admit that.

  “I get it, John, I understand, but you’re endangering your family because of this shit.” You countered, your voice pleading.

  “That shit is what tore my family apart, Y/N. It will not stand by and watch it happen again to someone else.” He told you, making it sound convincing enough, although he made his children sound expendable.

  “It was just a little mistake, just this once.” He went back to talking about the incident with the Shtriga, sighing softly. You nodded, taking a small step back, knowing that your point probably wasn’t getting all the way through his thick skull. You knew he loved those boys, but his judgement was clouded whenever he was hunting. It was like a switch went off in his brain and he was stuck in that moment before it was over.

  “You should eat something...” You decided it would be better to discuss all this later, when everyone had calmed down a little. A small, apologetic smile made its way to your lips before you returned to the kitchen.

                                             But just hold me now                                     Cause our love will light the way...

                                          Baby, you're all that I want                                    When you're lyin' here in my arms

Your back was pressed against John’s chest as you lay in bed, his arms wrapped around your hips. His torso had a thin layer of moisture coating it and he pressed his lips to the top of your head. A shower did him good.

You’d put the boys to bed in the guest room a while ago with full bellies and warm blankets, maybe for once they’d get a decent night’s sleep.

  “I think I might stay here a while...if that’s okay.” He said softly, after minutes of silence. You over and looked at him.

  “I want the boys to go to school for longer than week. This place is still warded from pretty much everything right?” John kept his eyes on the pillow, he was laying on his side; he rarely slept on his back so he avoided looking at the ceiling.

Yes, your home was warded from everything evil, perfectly safe. You nodded, reaching over to cup his cheek and making him look at you.

  “You stay here as long as you want, you got that?” You asked him and he nodded his eyes beginning to droop. The pain-killers were kicking in, not that a big strong hunter like himself needed those, as he told you.

  “Got it.” He ran his fingers through your damp Y/H/C hair. He had to say, he was falling for you, even though he hated to admit it.

                                          I'm findin' it hard to believe                                                  We're in heaven

He felt better when he was with you; like he didn’t have to worry about anything anymore. After a few minutes of silence, John spoke again, pulling you a little closer, maybe the drugs hadn’t taken yet, after all. His fingers were calloused after only a few years of hunting, but they were still soft, gentle when they touched your skin.

  “Y/N, I never thanked you.” He mumbled into your hair as you started to drift. He inhaled softly, you smelled like your coconut shampoo. Your hands wove around his waist a little tighter, getting comfy, and you tucked your head under his stubbled chin. It was hard for him to admit that he felt like he was floating on air for the first time since Mary.

  “I never thought I’d meet another person that I-...that I feel so strongly for.” A blush crept up onto his cheeks. He hadn’t realized that your breathing was shallow, your eyes were shut and you were asleep, but he kept talking. Or maybe he had realized it, and he just wasn’t comfortable pouring his heart out while you were awake.

  “Jim Murphy- um, Pastor Jim, he said that I could leave the boys with him if I needed, but I think this is better. Better for them.” He stroked your hair behind your ear softly, twirling a few strands as he did so and cherishing the feeling of your body against his.

                                          And love is all that I need                                     And I found it there in your heart

  “I want them to have someone like you around. Be there when they get home from school and kiss their bruises...” He smiled softly.

  “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon...”

He lay awake for a while, after pressing a kiss to your temple, his hands running up and down your smooth skin. He was just thinking, and for once not about Mary.

He thought of all the things that would be different had Mary not died. Had she not been killed. He’d set aside a college fund for both his boys when they were born. If he was lucky, or if they were lucky enough to get out, they could go to school and be normal kids. They could get married, have children of their own, have the normal life after that he never got to have. The way he saw it, unless he could find a way to balance keeping his kids safe, and hunting down the evil son of a bitch that took away their mother, there wouldn’t be a future for any of them.

That night when he fell asleep, John finally dreamed of something that wouldn’t keep him up at night. He saw you. It was Christmas morning, and the boys’ eager faces came running into the living room. There was a wedding ring on your left hand as well and he smiled as you tucked yourself into his side.

If he was going to be happy, even just a little bit, then this might be his last shot.

He slept through the night.

                                             It isn't too hard to see                                                  We're in heaven

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[juicifeur]

P.A. Life (Jensen x reader)

 akshi8278 said: How about Jensen takes a liking towards a shy and introverted girl. But she is sassy.

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Been wanting to write a PA story for a bit. This is in no way trying to discredit or undermine the wives of the boys. I love them and their families to death and anyone who doesn’t, should grow up and respect them<3 I love Danneel, this story means no disrespect to her

                                                             Day 1

Four coffees that the stage hand had sent you to get lay, spilled, on the concrete floor, foam and all. You had to radio another PA to fix your mistake as you grabbed a roll of paper towels from one of the janitorial closets. As you returned to the spill, you saw a sign posted on the wall, clearly indicating that there was a ground-level hazard:

Warning: Watch your step

A lot of good that did you. This time you stepped over the extension cords and wires that crossed the floor and you knelt to sop up the caffeine. If the rest of your time here went like this, you definitely would not be coming back, or leave in the good graces of the crew. You heard footsteps nearing your place on the floor and you scrubbed a little faster and added more paper towel. If it was your boss you were dead. 

   “Looks like you’re in a bit of a pickle” A man’s voice said from behind and above you. It sounded familiar but you still didn’t know it you just kept focused on the coffee soaked paper. You sighed deeply, picked up the ones that couldn’t hold any more and you tossed them in a nearby trash bin.

   “No shit.” You mumbled. You grabbed one last piece of paper to clean up the last of the beverages and you leaned back on your heels.

   “I’m not losing my job today.” You said as you stood up and turned around, not realizing who you’d been talking to until it was too late.

Low and behold, Jensen fucking Ackles stood in front of you, along with a man who you knew as Robert Singer. Your face went pale.

  “Oh- god I am so sorry, I have more coffees on the way, I promise this won’t happen again. Sir- sirs.” You tried to finish respectfully as you looked at both of them, sheepish. Robert seemed amused.

   “You’re the new PA aren’t you? From the other sound stage?” Robert asked. He was carrying a folder full of papers, he’d probably been talking to Jensen about the script or something. You nodded.

   “Yes, sir.” You responded.

   “Don’t worry, we’ve had plenty of spills. Next time just make sure it isn’t closer to the camera.” Robert gave you a look and turned to walk away again, getting back to work. Jensen stayed a few moments longer and smirked softly before also walking away.

You let out a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding and watched the tall man leave.

   “Dammit.” You muttered. Hopefully tomorrow would be better.

                                                            Day 2  

   “Spill any more coffee lately?” Another PA walked up next to you at the caterer’s truck outside the sound stage. 

   “Ha, ha.” You deadpanned.

   “Thanks for saving my ass yesterday.” You looked at her as the man behind the counter handed you your first and probably the only coffee you would get today. She nodded.

   “No problem. I heard you embarrassed yourself in front of Jensen yesterday.” She giggled softly and you looked at her, mortified.

   “How did you hear about that?” You glared.

   “The crew talks fast.” She drank her coffee.

   “That’s it, I’m going back to stage 2.” You groaned.

   “C’mon, you really wanna be stuck in wardrobe repairs all day?” She asked. The only reason you were here was to fill in for another PA that had gotten into an accident on the way to work. It wasn’t the best of scenarios, but you took the opportunity.

   “No, no I don’t.” You sighed, beaten.

   “But I’d much rather be behind the scenes than getting made fun of out in the open.” The coffee slid past your lips and the aroma continued to wake you up; it was five in the morning, but you had to be wide awake and make sure everyone else was too.

   “No one’s gonna make fun of you, at least not to your face.” She told you, How comforting.

   “I mean, everyone on this set is really nice, if they make fun of you that means they like you.” She reassured, resting a hand on your shoulder.

   “Thanks. C’mon, first call’s in ten.” You slid on your headset and grabbed your schedule for the day.  

                                                            Day 3

   “Hey, coffee girl.” Jensen smirked as you walked up to him. You’d had the unfortunate luck to be assigned to him that day. You would be filming outside the stage until around noon, somewhere near Langley. You gave the actor an unimpressed look.

   “You’ve gotta be in the car in twelve minutes, Mr. Ackles.” You told him, glancing at the schedule. You’d been given tips on how to work as a PA and it seemed to be working.

   “Mr. Ackles? Call me Jensen, please.” He said nodded towards your clipboard.

   “Fine. Jensen, we gotta be in the car in twelve- no,” You checked your watch.

   “Ten minutes.” Jensen chuckled.

   “Yeah, you said that.” He started to follow you.

   “Ackles is walking.” You spoke into the headset to make sure everyone knew where you were. It was in the job description to keep everyone updated, including set managers and technicians, so everyone had some sort of communication device on them at all times.

   “So, you’re new, huh?” He was in costume already, so you figured that he’d probably gotten up the same time you had so he could visit Zabrina and Jeannie in hair and makeup. You had to hand it to them, it probably took huge amounts of skill and focus to be able to work on this gorgeous human being for hours at a time. You nodded.

   “Yeah, I’m from wardrobe. I do the repairs when you rip an important pair of jeans or something.” You said as you walked towards the black van that would take himself, Jared and whoever else was going, outside Vancouver to meet Russ Hamilton, the location manager.

   “Wardrobe? Hm, if you wanted to get into my pants you could have just come and asked me.” He smirked.

Was he flirting with you? Of all people, Jensen Ackles was flirting with you?

   “Mhm, right, and if you wanted to get into mine you’d have to take that up with my manager.” You scoffed back, giving him a glance as you passed a few of the cameramen. Jensen didn’t seem to expect that kind of retort from you. The fact that you were talking to him and not fainting still surprised you.

You kept on walking while he contemplated what he’d just heard, it was clear he wasn’t used to being spoken to like that.

   “So know my name, but I don’t know yours.” He asked as he caught up to you. Even with his long legs, he’d fallen behind quite a bit. He was trying to get it out of you with his charm alone, you were more than happy to repay the favour with your own version of charm.

   “It’s on my clipboard. Surprised you didn’t see that when you looked at my schedule.” You looked at him again and your eyebrow quirked upwards. He thought for a moment.

   “Wanna give me a hint?” He asked nicely. Despite being famous, Jensen seemed really down-to-earth; and sweet, even if he was a little cocky.

   “It’s Y/N.” You smiled softly.

   “Y/N..got a mouth on you, hey?” He questioned, intrigued by your behaviour.

   “It helps to know it’s having an effect on your performance.” You smirked at him and he chuckled deep in his throat, tucking his hands into his front pockets.

   “Yeah, a little.” He looked up, towards the van and saw Jared waiting with the driver.

   “Dude, let’s go.” He called for Jensen and he responded with a small wave.

   “Yeah, in a minute.” Jensen told his co-star. Jared sighed deeply and looked at the driver. Jensen chuckled.

   “Control freak,” He muttered and stopped walking with you, he turned.

   “See you around?” He started to walk backwards.

   “If you’re lucky.” You said as someone started to speak into their headset that connected all the PA’s. Jensen’s lips turned up into that deadly smile of his and he turned around again, walking to the van.

Always Tags: @knightofmischief @potato8queen @sherlock44 @too-much-winchester   @krista200022   @mcdoyle22   @thegameisafootwatson @leiassorganaa @arixky@katestiel @kylorentrsh @trashbutnotforyou @angel-allie-exol-army@thedamnchesters @kickasscas67 @hoe-zier @kyara2015@trustnobodyshootfirst @all-ur-friends-r-dead @rhae-winchester @one-shots-supernatural @spn-imagineers @abigrumple @livelovelike555 @missdestiel67@lemonadegazeelle @elsatxx

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[juicifeur]

STD-lemma (Sam x reader)

galaxyllamaftw asked: Haha ok so I thought of this in math class. Sam and the reader have been dating for a while (they have done the nasty) and one day after like lunch or something, idk the reader burps and hiccups multiple times and she says “ive got the hurps” (hiccup + burp) std jokes are great. Anyways I hope you have a nice day and I love your work ok bai❤️

Word Count: 685

A/N: I wrote this in a span of a few hours. I apologize. This request was..interesting?

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

   “The police report says that the internal organs liquefied.” Sam said while sticking a fork through a few leaves of lettuce that were still in his Styrofoam box.

   “How are you still eating while reading that?” You groaned softly, pushing away your box containing a half eaten burger. Dean, the always hungry person he was, just kept on eating like Sam hadn’t just divulged the details of your latest case.

   “Strong stomach.” Sam chuckled and glanced up at you. His phone began to ring and he looked at the caller.

   “Police chief.” He got up and went outside to take the call where it would be somewhat quiet.

It had been two years since you decided to make your relationship official with Sam. He’d been reluctant at first, knowing full well his track record with the whole dating thing, but he came around after you proved that you could watch your own back instead of him watching it for you in addition to his own.

When you first met, you were instantly attracted to Dean, which you still haven’t been able to live down. His bad boy swagger and love for hunting down evil seemed to pull you towards him like a magnet. It wasn’t until he pushed you away, ended up six feet under, and all you had was Sam that you realized that he wasn’t the one for you. You were too alike.

Despite the fact that the apocalypse was on your asses, the three of you still tried to stay as focused as possible on cases while the trail was dry.

You downed the last of your beer and set the bottle back on the table in the dingy motel room. Then you felt a small amount of intestinal gas building. 

When it was released, your nose was left sore and your chest was tight.

Dean stared at you as it happened again, intrigued and a little confused by the noise. 

   “What the hell was that?” Dean asked. He’d put down his food and chuckled.

   “I burped and hiccuped at the same time.” You giggled, trying to think of something funny to say. The front door opened behind you and you spun around. This should be good.

   “I think I’ve got the herps.” You said to Sam as he walked in. He froze and Dean had to put his head down on the table to keep from laughing too hard.

   “Uh- what are you- um. Say that again?” He put his phone down on the table and stared at you, with his hands on his hips.

   “Do- do I need to get tested or something?” His jaw was a little more tense than it had been a few minutes ago. You were trying so hard not to laugh.

   “You think it’s contagious?” You gasped, innocently, placing your palm in the middle of your chest.

   “At least it’s not the clap right, Sammy?” Dean straightened up and chuckled, sipping his beer to distract himself.

   “This isn’t funny, Dean.” Sam glared at his brother, which only made him laugh harder.

    “It’s pretty funny.” Dean caught his breath.

   “What about this is funny?” Sam was pacing around the room nervously, Dean just kept on chuckling.

   “We’re gonna have to go to a clinic, get tested, get treatment. If you’ve got it, then I definitely have it.” He looked back at you and his hand ran over his waist line, paranoid. Sam was definitely a clean freak when it came to his body so you saw how this might be unsettling for him. You stood up and walked over to him, putting your hands on either side of his face.

   “Sammy, calm down I was just kidding.” You pecked his lips and you felt his muscles relax. He sighed deeply.

   “Seriously?” He growled a little.

   “You almost gave me a heart attack.” He ruffled your hair, annoyed and you giggled.

   “Just be glad it wasn’t gonorrhea, Sammy.” Dean chuckled again. It was clear he wouldn’t let this go for a while.

   “Shut up, Dean.”

   “I still have some Herpexia if you want it.” 

   “That’s enough, Dean.”

A/N: I couldn’t resist

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[juicifeur]

Bad Medicine (Dean x Reader)

Summary: Dean gets injured on a hunt and the morphine from the hospital make him a little loopy

- Female reader -

Word Count: 880

A/N: Sooo... sorry about the wait

   “You remember when-”

   “No, Y/N.” Dean grumbled, staring down the road as he drove.

   “C’mon, it was funny.”

   “I don’t think it was.”

   “You’re just saying that because you can’t remember.” You giggled. The corner of Dean’s lip twitched.

   “Exactly.” His brows furrowed and he kept his gaze fixed on the asphalt. Sam chuckled in the passenger seat.

It had been almost four months since the accident.

Dean had been slammed into a concrete wall while trying to kill a witch and had broken his femur. He’d broken the hardest bone in his body. Dean Winchester had broken a bone, after years or tiny breaks, and was in the most pain he’d ever been in.

It took a lot of work to pull off a lie elaborate enough for when the paramedics showed up, since you couldn’t move him without the risk of him passing out.

You were in the back of the ambulance with Dean while Sam followed it in the impala.

It was an open fracture, which was really bad in terms of breaks, especially since it was such a serious bone to break. There was a lot of blood

When you got to the hospital, Dean had lost so much blood that he was almost instantly off to the Operating Room, leaving you and Sam pacing and worrying.

   “Y/N, he’ll be fine okay? You just gotta relax.” Sam sighed and pulled you to his chest to calm you down. You breathed out and rested your head on his shoulder. His hands ran up and down your back soothingly. You appreciated Sam’s brotherly gestures a lot of the time you were with him.

   “Relax.. right, okay.” You took three deep breaths and he pulled you to one of the chairs.

You weren’t sure how long you were asleep, but when you woke up, Sam was talking to a doctor.

   “Sam?” You sat up and straightened your hair with your hand.

   “Thank you.” Sam said, the doctor nodded and turned, going back down the hall to see his next patient most likely.

   “How is he?” You asked, standing up and crossing your arms. 

   “He’s gonna be okay, but he’s sedated. Heavily sedated,” He paused.    “Um, we can go sit with him if we want to though.”

   “Thank god.” You picked up your thin jacket from the chair and you and Sam walked to the room where Dean was sleeping. His face was cut and bruised, but much cleaner than it would have been had you just gone back to the motel.

It would be a while before he woke up.

   “Hello?”

You were curled up in the chair beside Dean’s bed, asleep when you heard a familiar voice. You stirred and looked up, seeing Dean’s droopy eyes.

   “Dean?” You sat up straight and leaned forward to look at him, you glanced at the clock, 2:40 am. Dean had a goofy looking half smile on his face.

   “Are you an angel? The doctors...they musta sent an angel..” He chuckled and his eyes drooped a little. You giggled softly and looked up at Sam, who was holding in a laugh.

   “Far from an angel, Dean.”

   “How you know m’name?” His head tipped back onto the pillow and looked at you like you had blue polka dots all over you. You smiled again.

   “You need to get more sleep-”

   “You’re so pretty.” Dean smiled sleepily, his lips turning up into another goofy grin.    “Wow, you really are stoned outta your mind.” You giggled and stood up.

   “You wanna come back to m’place? My girlfriend doesn’t have t’know.” He tried to smirk. His voice was thick and Sam burst out laughing again, probably thinking the same thing you were; that someone should have been filming this.

   “Y’know you look jus'- like her.” He whispered, reaching out and touching your nose.

   “Dean, I am your girlfriend.” You took his hand and kissed his bruised knuckles. His eyes widened and he shook his head in a dramatic fashion.

   “Sammy, did you see m’girlfriend? I done good, Sammy, I d’good.” He laughed obnoxiously and grinned up at his brother.

   “Yeah, Dean whatever you say.” Sam chuckled and you tossed a pillow at him. You looked back at Dean who was staring blissfully at you with big green eyes.

   “I love you, Dean.” You leaned over and kissed his forehead. He smiled softly and his eyes drooped again.

   “I love me too.” He chuckled and fell asleep again, his arms going limp as he started to sleep off the pain medication.

Sam laughed as you finished telling the story and he clutched his stomach.

   “Laugh it up, fuzzball.” Dean grumbled from the driver’s seat, glaring at his brother. His cheeks were beet red and his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. You giggled.

   “We really should have gotten that on film.” Sam finally caught his breath and leaned back in the seat.

   “Shut up, Sam.” Dean looked over at Sam, very confused and he sighed, turning the volume up on the stereo to drown out the embarrassment.

You leaned over the front seat and kissed Dean’s warm cheek and you wrapped your arms around his neck gently.

   “You know I love you, right?” You giggled softly. Dean nodded and smiled.

   “I love me too.”

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[juicifeur]

Revival (Sam x Reader)

Request: Can you do a one shot or something where the reader is the Winchester's hunter partner and they get into a huge fight and she leaves to go out to a bar, and gets kidnapped by a demon and the demon tortures her for information on the Winchesters, and she doesn't give up the info so she keeps on getting tortured, but gets saved by the Winchesters right before she would have died, and it ends with a love confession from Sam

Warnings: Language, torture

Word Count: 1,370

A/N: I’m so sorry I can’t remember if this was an anon or not. On another note I am loving all this Sam writing. I promise I’m working on the other one

   “You do know you could have been killed right?”

   “I know, Sam.”

   “What were you thinking?”

   “I wasn’t.” You walked into the motel room first and you heard Sam toss his jacket aside, his broad shoulders tensing. The door slammed.

   “Y/N, we had a plan. If you just stuck to the plan-”

   “If we had stuck to the plan more people would have died. You and Dean would have died, Sam. I don't think I heard a thank you.” You cut Sam off and glared at him, feeling the burn of the gash on your arm and the warm blood seeping through your shirt.

   “I am not thanking you for almost killing yourself.” He stepped toward you and it was then you realized how pissed off he was over nothing.

   “I’ve been hunting for longer than you have, Winchester, I suggest you treat me with some kind of respect.”

   “Respect?” Sam scoffed. It was an offensive sound.

   “I don’t want to respect anyone who doesn’t care enough about themselves to stay back and let us do what we came to do. Dean and I had it!”

Silence. You stared at him with a rage you’d never felt before and you could swear the temperature in the room was rising.

   “Fuck you, Sam.”

   “You know what, fuck you too, Y/N. I’m done with you being reckless.”

   “If being reckless means I’m a better hunter, then you’re welcome.”

You grabbed your jacket once again and you pulled it on over the cut. Then you grabbed the keys to your car. Sam watched as you walked towards the door. 

   “Where the hell do you think you’re going? You’re still bleeding, Y/N.”

   “Out.”

   “Yeah, well don’t let the door hit you on the way!” He put his hands on his hips and the door slammed shut again, leaving him alone for a few seconds. Dean entered slowly, he’d sensed that fight coming and had waited in the Impala.

   “You okay, Sammy?” He closed the door.

   “Fine.” Sam grumbled and went into the bathroom for a cold shower.

Seven shots in and you were finally feeling the buzz you were looking for. Your vision started to blur, but maybe if you squinted you could read the headline on the old newspaper in the recycling bin.

   “Looks like you’ve had a long day.” A woman sat down next to you and sipped from her glass full of ice and what you assumed to be scotch. All you could do was nod.

   “You don’t even know the half of it.” You glanced over at the woman and gave a small smile. She looked right back at you and her eyes turned from a warm hazel to black.

You felt your heart stop.

   “Oh I think I do.” She smirked. Your eyes stayed glued to her face, like you were frozen. She bit down on her lip and looked you over once.

   “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Demon got your tongue?”

Another glass-shattering scream ripped through your chest as the demon dragged the knife down your stomach. Blood bubbled up through the wound and you clenched your teeth together as sweat collected on your forehead.

   “No.” You hissed. The knife pressed harder into your skin and you screamed again.

   “Come on, we’ve been at this for three weeks. You’re bound to give up something eventually.” The demon groaned as if this was becoming bored. Had it only been three weeks?

   “I’m not telling you jack shit.” You seethed, trying to move any part of your body. When you’d first arrived, you were strapped to the table, first by your hips and legs, then by your chest arms and your jaw, other than the thick leather straps stained with blood, you were bare. Your body was riddled with deep cuts and bruises, and possibly a few broken ribs, making it painful to even breathe.

   “Fine.” The demon was so close to you, you could feel her rancid breath on your neck. There was a tray of hot coals near the door that you’d seen earlier, and you smelled your burning flesh before you felt the pain of the red-hot knife pressing into your skin. Your shriek tore through the air, no doubt a sound that all demons would be happy to cause.

   “It’s your funeral.” The demon yanked back the knife, it clattered on the tray as she tossed it and you were left alone once again to your own sobs. Your wounds bled all over, leaving a dark, sticky residue that clung to your sweat-covered body.

It had felt like years since you’d last had a drink of water or something to eat, and twice as long since you’d seen the Winchesters. You wished you’d just listened to Sam, you should’ve just listened and this would never have happened.

Your limbs shuddered under the restraints and the shock settled into your body just like it had the day before.

   “Y/N..” A voice in the distance dragged you from sleep and you instantly felt your head throb. You tried to move, then remembered where you were. Your vision was still on the failing side as you woke up and felt a draft of cold air hit your skin.

   “Y/N!” You saw two figures step into the room, both tall, both blurry. One got closer and cupped your cheeks suddenly, his worried expression clear.

   “Sam.” You breathed out, relieved to see him and thankful that he wasn’t some blood-loss induced hallucination.

   “We’re gonna get you outta here okay, just hold on. Stay with me, Y/N.” You felt the restraints being loosened and something, maybe a jacket being wrapped around you.

   “I’m- sorry for what I said...” You mumbled as you felt yourself being lifted by a strong pair of arms.

   “Shh, sh, just stay quiet, you’ll need the energy.” Sam carried you through the dark hallways behind who you could only suspect was Dean. And you realized your vision was burly not because of sleep, but because you’d lost so much blood.

You felt yourself being set down in the back seat of the Impala a feeling you were used to. But then you felt Sam slide in beside you, you leaned against him.

   “Don’t die on me, Y/N.” He held you up straight and pressed his hands into your still bleeding side. Your head started to bob and you winced. A tear slipped down his cheek.

   “Stay awake, Y/N. Talk to me.” You smiled softly.

   “I should have listened to you. Should have-“ You breathed in and opened your eyes a little more in effort to see him.

   “Should have stuck to the plan.” You slumped against his shoulder and the car lurched forward as Dean started to speed back to wherever they came from.

   “C’mon Y/N, stay awake.” Sam practically growled and pressed his hands harder into your side.

   “I love you too damn much to watch you die.”  He held you close to him and you felt yourself starting to slip away again. The pain was all over your body.

   “Stay with me Y/N...” Sam’s voice faded and then you were out cold.

When you woke up this time, you weren’t strapped down or bleeding. You were in a bed, a less than comfortable motel room bed, but it was a million time better than whatever you had been stuck to, so to you it felt like heaven. Heaven with a little extra warmth.

   “Y/N?” Sam said, his voice heavy with sleep. His arms were wrapped around your waist and he was laying behind you. You turned to face him, confused but grateful for his presence. His hand was on your hip, gently rubbing small circles.

   “Um, Sam-” You felt his arms loosen a little, nervously, and he gave you that hurt puppy look, like he’d done something wrong. You ran your hand down to your side and over your other wounds, all that were left were bandages and stitches, courtesy of your knights in shining armour.

   “I’m sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” His cheeks flushed and you gave him a small kiss on the cheek. He was shocked to say the least.

   “Thank you.” You smiled softly and settled back against him.

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[juicifeur]

Green-Eyed Monster (Sam x Reader)

Summary: Your feelings for Sam start to effect your life in more dangerous ways

- Female reader -

Warnings: Angst, language, jealousy, handsy guy being a jerk, sexual harassment, severe injuries

Word Count: 5,101 holy fuck

A/N: Hey look I’m being productive I started this on March 4th...

   “What can I get ya?” The bartender asked as he cleaned a glass with a damp cloth. He was solidly built and had light stubble on his jaw, he was attractive but not for you. It was Friday night, so the bar was full of people hoping to get either drunk or lucky; most likely both.

   “Anything with alcohol in it.” You smiled tiredly, running a hand through your Y/H/C hair.

   “Rough night?” He chuckled and poured you a shot of tequila, he set it on the counter in front of you. You smiled softly and glanced over at Sam and Dean, who were being chatted up by a brunette in a short skirt who had her hand resting on the younger brother’s arm, causing envy to tug at your heartstrings. Your nails dug into your palm.

   “You have no idea.” You threw back the shot and let the alcohol burn down your throat; he poured you another. Thanks to Dean, your tolerance was extremely high; so you would be here for a while. You threw back the second and the bartender chuckled again.

   “I know the feeling. On the house.” He slid you a brown bottle and gave a friendly nod before walking away to serve other bar-goers.

You played the day’s events over in your head as you tapped your fingers on the bar in accordance to the vibrations of the music. Playing FBI had never been so annoying. You tried to look your best today, new heels and a crisp white shirt that hugged your torso in all the right places, ut Sam didn’t seem to even notice.

People swarmed around each other and danced and talked the clacks of pool balls mixed with the alcohol managed to drown out your feelings. The smell of beer and sweat filled the air but you were used to it. You picked up the bottle and tipped it back to drink when you felt a warm presence beside you. Out of instinct, your hand slid to your thigh where your hunting knife would usually be.

   “I haven’t seen you around here before.” A man’s deep voice said, making you look up. He was attractive. Tall and handsome with dark hair, like a certain hunter you knew.

   “Uh yeah- just passing through.” You smiled at him and sipped your beer again, your eyes traveling down his body briefly.

   “Not exactly the kind of town you’d go through on a road trip.” He chuckled.

   “May I sit?” He gestured to the stool beside you and you nodded, still smiling. Maybe this would distract you for a while. It had been a while since you’d had a night with a guy, and this one looked like he would be able to provide some much needed relaxation.

   “I’m actually here on business.” You corrected, turning towards him. You saw his eyes scan your body and then meet yours again.

   “What kind of business?” He drank his own beer and rested a hand on his leg.

Hunting.

   “I’m a fed, actually. Came in on a case.” You smiled and breathed out, drinking again. He smiled a beautiful smile and nodded.

   “I can see it. You look like you’ve seen a lot of crap.” He shrugged, a glint in his eyes. The corners of his lips turned up slightly as he spoke and you nodded, smirking.

   “Some things you wouldn’t believe.” You scoffed and downed the rest of your beer. The guy laughed.

   “Name’s Julian.” He held out his hand and you took it with a smile, glancing over at the boys who seemed to be glaring holes into your male companion’s back. A small smirk worked its way up onto your face and an idea popped into your head.

   “Y/N.” You looked back into Julian’s eyes and saw them grow darker and a small smile appear on his face. You bit the inside of your lip seductively and set down your empty beer bottle.

   “So, Julian. You wanna get out of here?”

Sam watched in disgust as you wove your way through the small crowd and left with the man. His hand clenched into a fist and the door closed behind you, leaving you alone to do God knows what.

   “Ground control to major Tom.” Dean deadpanned, drinking his whiskey. Sam looked down at his brother, who was sitting on a barstool and let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

   “What?” Sam came back down to earth and looked at his brother. The girl they were talking to had disappeared.

   “Dude, you just spaced out and she was talking right to you.” Dean scoffed.

   “The hell were you looking at?” He looked up at Sam and set down his glass. But Sam just shook his head and turned back to his drink.

   “Nothing.”

   “Very convincing.” Dean drank another shot of whiskey.

It wasn’t long before you were being pressed against the wall of your motel room. It was lucky you had a separate room from the boys and it was lucky the bar was next to the place you were staying. Of course, Dean had been the one to pick it based off of that.

Julian’s hands roamed over your body and eventually they found their way up your shirt, but your mind was elsewhere. Wondering if Sam even noticed you leaving with some stranger.

He didn’t notice...

Julian’s lips attached to your neck and he bit down on your skin and sucked, making you gasp a little. His hands grabbed at your back and he pushed you further into the wall, it was pushing the boundary between ‘okay’ and ‘get your fucking hands off me’.

   “C’mon, Y/N. Don’t clam up on me now.” He kissed you hard on the mouth, he tasted like alcohol. Usually you wouldn’t mind, but when someone was drunk and you were being forced into a corner it was kind of hard to play off.  His rough hands tried to lift your shirt up, but your hands grabbed onto his wrists and you tried to push them away desperately.

   “Julian stop-”

   “You were so into this a minute ago.” He growled softly and shoved you, as if this was a game to him.

   “Let’s have some fun.”

   “Julian, I’m not in the mood anymore-” You were cut off by him grabbing and pinning your arms to the wall roughly, probably leaving a few small bruises. The air left your chest and you stared at him, suddenly worried. You’d dealt with monsters pinning you to the wall before, but humans were a whole different story.

   “You gonna fight me, Y/N?” He taunted, his eyes growing darker. His hands were on either sides of your head and his legs caged you to the flat surface that seemed to absorb you.

   “Do you need to be punished? Would you like that?” His teeth scraped down your neck and you groaned. He was solid, but you could easily take him down if it weren’t for the fear bubbling up in your stomach. You thrashed your limbs, causing the lamp on the desk to fall to the floor and shatter. He pinned you to the wall again, roughly.

   “Bitch.” He growled as his palm came across your cheek with a sickening slap. You felt your cheek burn and tears stung your eyes.

Almost instantly there was a knock on the door and his grip on you loosened as you rushed to answer it. You didn’t care who it was, but you were thankful.

   “What the hell’s going on?” Dean looked at you for a moment and then glared at Julian who was pulling his shirt back on. Your face went red.

   “Nothing, Dean. I’m fine.” You avoided his gaze but he picked up your wrist and turned it, looking at the red marks. He stepped passed you into the room, advancing on Julian, shoving him against the wall and holding him by the collar of his shirt. Julian genuinely looked frightened for his life; he may have been built but Dean was more so.

   “Dean, don’t! It was my fault. I’m the one who led him on-”

   “This asshole hurt you, Y/N. I’ll be damned if I let him leave without a-”

   “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I went- way outta line, man. Look just- just don’t kill me.” Julian stuttered, eyed wide as he tried to look for a way out of this situation. Dean seemed to glare into his soul and he let go of him harshly, shoving him.

   “Get out of here.” Dean barely got the sentence out before Julian was rushing out of the room, grabbing his shoes on the way. The door slammed shut behind him and Dean turned his glare to you.

   “What?” You asked as if nothing was wrong, you straightened your shirt out.

   “Don’t give me that shit, Y/N. What the hell were you thinking?” He gave you a look like you just scratched his Baby. Your chest was pounding and you could see how furious Dean was; if looks could kill you would be a skid mark on the floor.

   “Are you kidding? It was just a slap. You and I both know I’ve had way worse.” You scoffed and Dean pinched the bridge of his nose.

   “Y/N just- if that ever happens again, I swear if you ever say it’s your fault-” He cut himself off and let out a heavy breath to calm his nerves.

   “Never mind. Come back to our room, you can sleep on the couch.” He sighed and turned toward the door again, you saw his fists finally unclench.

Dean was like a big brother to you, and he could take you out as easy as it was to breathe if he wanted to. So, you packed up your duffel bag and other things, preparing to follow him.

Sam was pacing in their room when Dean returned.

   “So?” He stopped and looked at his brother.

   “You were right. Good ears, Sam.” Dean sighed and walked in, leaving the door open slightly. Sam noticed that and looked at Dean again.

   “Wait, is Y/N-”

   “Staying in here with us? Yeah, Sam.” Dean nodded and took off his boots, leaving them beside his bed.

   “I was going to ask if she was okay, Dean-” Sam’s jaw clenched as he watched you walk in a few moments later, his eyes flicking to the marks left on you and the redness of your cheek. Your eyes met for a moment, but then you looked away.

You were all up early the next morning so you could visit the morgue.

   “And you said there weren’t any signs of forced entry?” You looked down at the pale body on the metal exam table. There were bruises around his neck that were shaped a lot like fingers.

   “No, not that the sheriff could find.” The coroner sighed, flipping through her file. You nodded and Dean looked over the other victim who was across the room with the same markings on his neck. The third victim had been cremated already. Sam, for whatever reason, had decided to go to the library alone to go through old newspapers. At this point all three of you were suspecting a vengeful spirit. But the of whom, you didn’t know.

   “Well, thank you. If you find anything else, give us a call.” You smiled softly and handed her one of your cards. She nodded and went back into her office and you looked at Dean.

   “That was kind of a bust.” You sighed as you and the older brother left the morgue. Dean nodded and he rounded the front of the Impala and got in the driver’s seat.

   “Might as well go see if Sam found anything.” He started the engine and you got in the passenger’s seat.

   “Are you gonna talk about what happened last night?” He pulled away from the curb, into traffic and started toward the library across town where you’d dropped Sam off earlier.

   “Nope.” You pulled your sleeves down on your arms and kept looking out the window.

   “Are you okay?” Dean asked, glancing over at you while keeping his hands on the wheel.

   “I’m fine. Can we drop it now?” You looked over at him, hopefully the dark hickey on your neck wasn’t visible. Dean sighed and shrugged. He knew as well as anyone that sometimes no one wanted to talk about squat.

The library was fairly empty for a Saturday morning, and Sam was sitting at a large table near the back corner. A paper cup of coffee sat near him, lukewarm to the touch and no longer steaming. He wasn’t exactly the kind of person who needed coffee in the morning, but after last night he could use the extra pick-me-up.

He’d combed through records of strange deaths and obituaries in the town since the 1960s but found nothing that directly linked to the killings that were going on currently. Only one could have been a match, but the cause of death was ruled a suicide.

Dean suddenly sat down across from his brother and sighed, pulling his chair up.

   “Anything?” He clasped his hands on the table and his shoulders hunched.

Sam looked up from his laptop and realized you were sitting across from him too. The marks were slightly darker today, and he felt his stomach tighten.

   “Uh- not really. The first vic was a judge named John Taylor and the other two were just some random guys. Not related to each other whatsoever from what I can see.” Sam sighed and looked back down at his screen.

   “What about the marks on their necks? Are they rope marks?” You asked.

   “Like from a noose?” Sam looked up briefly and you nodded, his fingers tapped on the keyboard.

   “One girl hung herself in ‘02. But it was ruled a tragic accident.” Sam scratched the back of his neck, frustrated. He couldn’t find anything. It was like someone had dedicated their whole life to burying some important detail that you all needed.

   “Well, looks like we’re back to square one.” Dean ran his hands over his face and sighed.

   “Did we ever leave it?” You scoffed and rested your head on your arms on the table. Dean chuckled deep in his chest.

   “Thank you for that optimism, Y/N.” He leaned back in his chair and Sam smiled softly.

   “Alright, well let’s get back to the motel and do some more homework.” Dean stood up from the table and you picked up some of the old papers that Sam had read.

   “As long as we can get coffee on the way.” You put the papers away and looked up at Sam while he was still turned toward the shelves. Dean chuckled.

   “Definitely.”

None of you were expecting to be woken up at almost two in the morning, by a cell phone ringing nonetheless.

   “Turn it off.” You whined and pulled the blanket you had over your head. Sleeping on the couch was your decision, you were smaller than both the boys and sharing a bed with either one of them, especially Sam, would just be awkward. Dean groaned softly and rolled over in bed to pick it up.

   “Hello?” He said, his voice rough with sleep.

   “No, you didn’t wake us. Not at all.” He cleared his throat and sat up in bed, causing Sam to look over, suddenly alert.

   “We’ll be right over. Thanks.” Dean hung up and tossed his phone on the other half of his bed.

   “We got another body.” He sighed and ran his hands over his face before getting up. Sam glanced over at you briefly as you sat up and he watched as your hair fell from your shoulders, matted and tangled from your uncomfortable sleep. What he would give to have you in his bed right now, beside him. Then he wouldn’t have to watch you roll your shoulders and neck all day from sore muscles.

His eyes flicked back down over to Dean and he got up, grabbing his jeans.

The drive to the police station was a slow blur, probably from lack of sleep, and you were nodding off slightly in the back seat, watching the yellow and green lights floating by outside. Before you knew it you were standing in the station with the boys, stifling a yawn.

   “Y/N, if you want to go back to the motel, we can take care of this.” Sam looked at you as he took the report from the deputy and he smiled softly at you.

   “You look exhausted.”

   “Thanks, that’s exactly what every girl wants to hear.” You scoffed and a yawn fell out of your mouth.

   “I can drive you back in a few minutes.” Dean chuckled and then looked down at the papers that he’d taken out of Sam’s hands.

People bustled around the station. The local hooker, her lipstick still as perfect as it had probably been last night, sat in the chair across the room

His eyes widened slightly and he closed it again, turning a little towards you, he seemed to make sure you wouldn’t see inside the file. HIs cheeks went a little pink and he glanced at Sam awkwardly.

   “What’s wrong?” That caught your attention and you yanked the file from his hands, your reflexes far better than his. You opened it and looked at the picture of the body. Dean cleared his throat.

   “Uh- victim is 6′1′, 190 pounds, dark hair, brown eyes-”

   “Julian.” You mumbled, staring at the picture of the body; he was pale, his lips blue, with bruises around his neck like the other three bodies had.

   “I’m sorry, who?” Sam looked over your shoulder.

   “The guy from the bar.” You breathed out a little and went through the papers, trying to ignore the scoff you heard from Sam and swallow the lump in your throat. Dean elbowed him in the ribs.

Sam turned away and felt his jaw clench.

   “Same marks on his neck as the other guys.” Dean sighed and set the file on the desk, your brain starting to reboot and go into overdrive.

   “What if they’re not ropes.” You mumbled to yourself and turned, pacing across the stained carpet of the motel room. There were articles and pages from lore books all over the floor and Dean was face down on the bed, exhausted. Sam looked up at you and leaned back slightly in his chair, breathing out.

It had been almost a full day of research and eight cups of coffee between all three of you before your brain actually started to make logical sense of everything.

Your eyes scanned the pages, lips pursed in concentration and Sam watched you. He sighed softly and wondered if he should ask if you were okay, if you needed to sleep, but decided against it.

   “Check if the victims had any run-ins with the court system. You know, besides the judge.”

   “How would that-”

   “Just do it.” You walked over to Sam quickly. It was silent for a few moments except for the furious tapping of fingers on a keyboard. The younger Winchester really did have a technological gift. He could hack into practically anything undetected. You smiled and watched his eyebrows knit together in concentration.

   “Wow.” Sam muttered and Dean’s head popped up.

   “What’d you find?” Dean grumbled, sliding off the bed and making his way over to you and Sam.

   “The first victim was involved in a trial about the death of his wife, Jamie Richards. He was brought in on evidence of domestic violence in 2010, but he pleaded not-guilty.” Sam read and Dean sat down across from him while you stood.

   “Well, that’s something.” Dean’s shoulders hunched forward and he clasped his hands on the table.

   “Yeah. And you know who made the final verdict?” Sam looked up at Dean with one of his famous bitch-faces.

   “Let me guess: our honourable Judge Taylor.” Dean smirked, knowing he was right.

   “Yep. Vic number one was decided not guilty, and it looks like the judge tried pretty hard to bury whatever hand he had in it.”

   “Was the second victim in court at some point too?” Dean asked, crossing his arms. Sam nodded.

   “Yeah, same thing in May of last year. Domestic violence, but he got off the hook too. Same judge was overseeing the case.” Sam sighed.

   “I’d call that a motive.” You smiled, proud of yourself.

   “Yeah, but we still .” Dean glanced over at you.

   “Isn’t it obvious?” You looked in between the boys, they stared back at you with blank expressions.

   “Jamie Richards? The wife of the first victim?” They stared silently at you and looked at each other like you were on some kind of acid trip.

   “Explain?” Dean looked at you, his lips pursed.

It was a wonder these boys were still alive.

   “Her husband was an asshole. So, maybe she wanted to get rid of all the assholes like him. Or anyone who tried to help any of them.” Silence.

   “Jamie Richards is going after abusers, genius.”

   “Ohh.” Dean finally said. You sighed.

   “How you two managed to survive this long amazes me.” You giggled softly and Sam chuckled.

   “Well, now that we know for sure, I say we head over to the cemetery.” Sam closed the laptop and you nodded, sliding your sawed-off into the waistband of your jeans.

   “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”

It was almost past midnight when you were halfway through digging the grave of Jamie Richards. A light fog had settled in the graveyard and a chill ran up your back every time a gust of wind went by.

   “Man, I need a beer.” Dean breathed heavily as he stood up straight, ridding his spine of soreness from an hour of being hunched over.

   “You’ve been saying that for the last forty-five minutes, Winchester.” You kept your focus on the dirt giving way under your feet.

   “Yeah, well I’ve wanted one for the past forty-five minutes.” He chuckled and shoveled dirt behind him, flinging it at Sam.

   “Hey, watch it!” He brushed his jacket off and held the lamp away from him. Dean chuckled.

   “Oh I’m sorry princess. Would you like to do the dirty work?” Dean held the shovel out to his brother, unimpressed.

   “I did it last time, Dean.”

   “Oh, I did it last time.” Dean mocked.

   “Why don't you just-”

   “Ladies, ladies, shut your mouths and focus on the task at hand, will you? If I have to bend over any longer I’m going to lose my mind.” You practically growled, back aching. Dean smirked when you looked up at him.

   “Bet that’s not the first time you’ve had to say that.” He quirked an eyebrow and his lips twisted into the most annoying grin you’d ever seen. You rolled your eyes.

   “Ow.” A small stone hit Dean’s shoulder and he looked up at his brother who was standing above the grave, no, sitting on the headstone with an unimpressed look.

  “Get back to work.” You tossed some dirt at both of them and couldn’t help but smile at the playful banter.

The week was finally slowing down, the grave was almost dug up and you were almost ready to wrap up the case.

You pried the lid of the casket open and a smell hit you, you covered your nose and mouth quickly. The body of Jamie Richards hadn’t fully decomposed yet.

You turned and grabbed onto Sam’s hand as he pulled you out of the grave, after Dean. His fingers wrapped around your wrist and you held onto him a little longer than you meant to, his warm hand enveloping yours. He stared into your eyes for a few moments, and you wanted to look away, but for some reason you just couldn’t. Like you were stuck.

You understood that he sometimes wanted to see other people, sometimes it just ticked you off since you were right there in front of him the whole time. It bothered you how much your life seemed to change whenever he seemed to make it clear he wasn’t interested.

   “Alright, kids. Showtime.” Dean said, pulling out a box of salt, and his lighter. from his inner jacket pocket.

The first crystal didn’t even hit the body when you were shoved backwards onto the dry grass from an invisible force.

   “Y/N!” Sam rushed to help you up, but the same thing happened to him and you could practically see the air get knocked from his chest.

The ghost of a girl, neck and face battered and bruised with streaks of black makeup running down her cheeks, appeared in front of you. She flickered a little before you heard a loud shot and she disappeared in a shower of salt.

   “Dean, the salt!” Sam winced as he tried to stand up. He grabbed his shotgun from the back of his jeans and pointed it frantically in case she showed up again. The wind rushed by and sent another chill down your spine.

   “I’m trying!” Dean yelled back and fumbled with the box he’d dropped. He started to shake the contents into the grave.

Jamie reappeared in front of you and you aimed your shotgun as she glared, frozen

   “You defended him.” She hissed, your feet seemed to be glued to the ground and the air around you dropped ten degrees at least. She paced towards you slowly, ominously, her eyes holding nothing but hate.

   “You rot in hell with the rest of them!” She flickered and suddenly her cold, bony hands were lunging for you and they wrapped around your throat, sending static through your veins. You felt her jagged nails dig into your skin and you clawed down her pale arms trying to get even just a little bit of oxygen. But you couldn’t.

You felt your lungs burn and ache like you’d been underwater for hours and your eyesight began to fail you. Sam’s blurry figure was off near Dean’s, trying to get the bitch burned before you were suffocated to death. Or worse.

   “Y/N!” Dean’s voice bellowed through the fog. Your vision blurred further and you felt your limbs start to go numb. The strength ghosts built up over however many years was incredible, and you were no stranger to it, but this was the first time you were scared.

Scared you wouldn’t be able to see your boys’ smiling faces again. You wanted to tell Sam everything right there and not care about the consequences. He was standing right there, watching your life drain away, and he might not ever know.

Suddenly, a searing light went up in front of you and then she was gone with a scream and a burst of flames. A tear ran down your cheek, then everything went dark.

   “Sam will you just- chill for like two seconds? You’ve been sitting there for three hours.” Dean sighed and put his hands on his hips, looking at his brother who was sitting on a chair beside one of the beds in the motel room.

It was almost five in the morning. Sam had a cold cloth on your head and he had done his best to tend to the burns and bruises on your skin while you were out; which had lasted for four hours so far. And Sam hadn’t slept.

All he wanted to do was make sure you were okay.

Sam’s fingers were intertwined with yours as you slept on the bed, on your side, and he felt them twitch, causing his heart to skip a beat.

   “Y/N?” Sam asked. Dean looked on eagerly.

Your face was pushed into the pillow and your eyes started to flutter behind your lids. You groaned softly, forming an incoherent sentence.

   “What?” Sam said softly. You felt his hand around yours and you looked up at him, he was still a little blurry and you noticed how achy you felt.

   “That went well.” You breathed out, trying to sit up. Sam chuckled and squeezed your hand gently before letting go and handing you a glass of water. You pulled your knees to your chest and sipped from the glass. You felt the heat from the burns on your cheeks and the bruises on your neck when you stretched.

It was a struggle to remember what happened last night. It was like a hangover but you knew nothing fun happened. You did remember the thought of leaving Sam behind without telling him how you felt, though.

Moment of truth.

   “I like you, Sam.” You blinked, looked over at him and you moved hair away from your face, leaning awkwardly on the pillow. His expression changed from relieved to confused.

   “I’ll uh- just...go.” Dean interjected, picking up his coat and walking out of the room. The door shut and you looked back up at Sam, nervous about what he would say.

   “You like me? As in-”

   “As in, I like you. I get...as much as I hate to admit it- jealous, whenever chicks try to pick you up at the bar.” You felt your face heat up and you crossed your arms, resting them on your knees.

   “I know this is sudden, and you probably don’t feel the same way, but I almost died last night and-”

   “How long?” He asked.

That was a bad sign. You sighed.

   “A while. You know what, just forget it. I never said anything.” You stood up, your legs weak, and you started walking towards your bag.

   “Y/N, hold on a second.” Sam stood and grabbed onto your wrist, softly.

   “Why do you think I kept talking to those girls?” He scoffed a little and that adorable smile of his appeared on his face. You stared at him for a second.

   “I was trying to get your attention, Y/N. Guess it worked a little to well, since you went home with that asshole-”

   “You sent Dean over.” You realized, smiling softly. He nodded.

   "Yeah, and if you’ll have me, I think we should try to have a- relationship, or whatever hunters can have.” He bit the inside of his lip nervously and slid his hand down to yours. You smiled, you hadn’t seen him this shy before.

   “I think I would like that.” You stepped a little closer to him and took his other hand.

   “Also, I think those new heels make you look incredibly sexy.” He chuckled deep in his throat and his forehead rested on yours, his eyes closing. You giggled.

   “You noticed.” You looked up at him and pressed your lips gently to his.

   “I’ll always notice you.”

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