#Sam would drag her ass back

[smolmakerel]

You know what? I live for the Black Widow AU that I saw floating around some time ago (I don't know if it's still a thing). It's such an interesting concept, and it got me thinking of another AU.

Captain America AU

Imagine, it's the early 20th century and WW2 is just starting, but women were allowed to fight in the army. There in NYC are the Carpenter sisters.

Tara Carpenter is a sickly little thing. She has asthma, was born early, and is always ready to pick a fight with people much bigger and stronger than her. She looks up to her sister Sam and is desperate to fight in the war with her when Sam volunteers.

Samantha Carpenter is a perfectly healthy woman. She's been working her way up the ranks of the U.S. military to become one of the people to put an end to the war. She worries that if she doesn't hurry, the opposing side might nuke the United States and Tara -

Tara might die.

But Tara wasn't afraid of death.

It took a lot of perjury, but Tara managed to enlist in the army with the help of a certain doctor (whose name I'm too lazy to look up rn). Seeing such a thin, sickly girl in the army, the other recruits and higher ups don't believe in her.

Despite their lack of faith, Tara has heart. And with her heart, she was recruited for a secret program. She was going to become a super soldier.

She signed on to be a lab rat of sorts. It hurt, the administration of the serum, but she came out...

Looking exactly the same. But on the plus side, she has better reflexes, stamina, and no asthma! Sam was going to be so proud of her when they finally met up.

Only for disaster to strike.

Sam, trying to protect Tara, ended up being thrown from a train and off the side of a mountain. Tara, devastated with the loss of her sister, was determined to end it all.

And end it she did. Only, Tara didn't expect to wake up nearly a century later in modern America. S.H.I.E.L.D. was eager to recruit her into this "Avengers Protocol", or whatever.

She also didn't expect H.Y.D.R.A. would come back with a familiar brunette on their side. Her left arm shines with metal, and her eyes became hardened over the years.

Tara knows this is Sam, her older sister who she thought she lost forever. The person she would die for.

They call her the Ghost Face now, but Tara knows Sam is still in there.

Why would the Ghost Face hesitate multiple times to kill her otherwise?

[navybrat817]

You're a Firework

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You're all set to watch fireworks with the gang and Bucky can't keep his hands to himself. Word Count: Over 2k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal fingering, semi-public sexy times, pet names, inner monologue, established relationship, humor, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I KNOW it's Steve's birthday, but my muse demanded Stud and Smartie. ❤️ I'm so sorry, lovelies. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“You know,” Natasha began as she handed you a drink. “You and Bucky could've had your wedding today. No one would have objected.”

“With Steve's birthday right around the corner? And take away from Sam’s amazing barbeque? No way,” you smiled, stepping out of the way as Clint walked by with sparklers in each hand. You refused to take attention away from either of them. “I’m glad we’re all hanging out though.”

Today was a good day. Not only was the weather as close to perfect as it could get, not too warm or too cold, it was a chance to get together and mingle since everyone had a few days off. Between the sunshine, food, and games, the gang had a lot of fun. You imagined your wedding reception would be fun, too.

Maybe the two of you could even have sparklers to celebrate, if only to entertain Clint.

“Bucky called you his wife earlier,” the redhead commented.

“He did?” You smiled, your heart swelling.

“He did. When you beat Sam at horseshoes, he looked right at Steve and said, ‘that’s my wife' with a huge smile on his face.”

Yeah, I am. Almost.

You nearly swooned, giving your fiancé a glance as he set his chair by the fire pit. “And that’s my husband.”

Natasha lightheartedly rolled her eyes and nudged you. “Better go and join him then. The fireworks are going to start soon,” she said, heading to her seat beside Clint. The town was shooting off fireworks in the nearby park, but you all decided it was better to hang back. The yard was a great spot to view them and no one had to worry about the crowd.

“Be right there,” you said, shivering as a light breeze rolled in. Sam had the fire going, but you hadn't realized how chilly it was now that it was dark. Grabbing your blanket from your bag nearby, you also realized as you walked over to the gang that there wasn't a place for you to sit. Bucky looked your way with a gentle smile and patted his thigh before you could ask if there was an extra chair available inside. You caught a glimpse of heat in his eyes as you made your way closer.

You loved that look.

“Is that my seat?” You asked.

“This could be your seat.” Bucky pointed at his face as you bit your lip. If everyone wasn’t around, you’d consider it. “But this one might be more comfortable to watch the fireworks,” he added, patting his massive thigh again.

His face. His thigh. Both were incredible places to sit.

“Yeah, comfortable. That’s the word,” you teased, shrieking as he dragged you onto his lap once you were within reach. You were lucky you didn't spill your drink. “Easy, tiger.”

He growled and nuzzled your neck once you situated yourself and placed your drink the cup holder. “This tiger will also keep you warm,” he promised.

“Aww. You two are just the cutest,” Sam said, swigging his beer with a chuckle when Bucky huffed.

“Yeah, we are. And in case you forgot, my girl kicked your ass earlier. Beauty, brains, and brawn,” he boasted. You didn’t have to look back to see the smug smile on his face. “Proud of you.”

I will not get giddy or aroused from that praise.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll get you next time,” Sam scoffed, looking over at you with a smile to let you know it was in good fun. He was a good guy, like Steve. You hoped they each found someone who made them feel the way Bucky made you feel.

“Or she’ll kick your ass again,” Bucky said without skipping a beat.

Oh, boys. So endearing. So competitive.

“Enough of that. Sam, I’m pretty sure I got lucky and I’d love a rematch. Stud, you just concentrate on keeping me warm,” you teased, draping the blanket over both of you. His embrace was always warm. “Surprised we don't have s’mores.”

“Those are for after the fireworks,” Steve said from the other side of you.

You smiled over at him before tilting your head back to gaze at Bucky. You weren't sure if the guys did it on purpose, but they each wore the same tight fitting T-shirt in patriotic colors. They all looked handsome, but your man looked look sex on legs. The love of your life would always turn your head.

“Not for us,” Bucky said, placing a kiss on your shoulder as his hand rested possessively on your hip. “We’re going to bed.”

You giggled and snuggled back against him when the rest of the gang protested. “But what if I want a s'more?”

“I’ll personally make you one and feed it to you in bed,” he half growled.

“You’re really not going to stay up with us?” Steve asked, a knowing look on his face.

“Oh, I’m sure something will get up,” Natasha deadpanned, making everyone laugh. She wasn't wrong.

“On your birthday, we’ll stay up as late as you want. Tonight, we’re watching the fireworks and going to bed,” Bucky grumbled, brushing a finger over your engagement ring. “Unless you really want to stay out here.”

You giggled again. Bucky had to share your attention with everyone all day and was still sharing it now. He was more than ready to have you all to himself. You understood the feeling.

“I’m fine with going inside after the fireworks. We’ll check on the cats and then go to bed,” you assured him.

With everyone drinking, you all decided it was better to crash in the same place instead of going home. Neither of you wanted to leave Alpine or Soot at your place though in case any neighbors decided to shoot fireworks off the roof, so you brought them over. They had a space set up under the guest bed with some white noise to help block out some of the sound. Anything to help put them at ease.

Bucky tilted your chin a bit more to place a soft kiss on your lips, the tension crackling like the fireworks had already started. “Thank you, Smartie.”

“You’re welcome, Stud.”

As if on cue, the show began.

You looked up at the sky in awe as the first firework rushed into the air. An explosion followed by a vivid display of light, they were like rainbows in the night brightening the darkness with color. They were beauty and wonder, a form of art that faded almost as quickly as it was created. Watching with loved ones made it all the more special.

You tilted your head and smiled when you caught Bucky staring back at you. “Why aren't you looking at the sky?”

“Why aren't you?” He teased, bumping his nose against yours. “Besides, I don't need to watch the sky when I have the most beautiful view right here.”

Your cheeks warmed. So did your heart. “You flatter me so,” you whispered, looking back at the sky again.

Bangs, crackles, and thunderous sounds continued to fill the air with the gorgeous display. You couldn’t keep the smile off your face. You almost regretted not having your phone beside you so you could take some pictures.

Though you likely would’ve dropped it when you felt Bucky’s hand move from your hip to under your skirt.

“Stud?” You gasped, quickly looking around as his hand trailed up your thigh. No one was looking your way. They were too occupied with the fireworks.

“Just keep looking at the sky, Smartie,” he said against your ear, your legs opening more as his hand found its prize. “And I'll keep touching you.”

Oh, fuck.

You shivered in his grasp despite the blanket and his body providing more than enough heat. His touch was possessive yet tender and you could feel your body turn to jelly as he rubbed you through your panties. You tried to concentrate on the colors above you, the material damp from his expert touch. And you couldn't stop your heart from pounding in your ears, adding the explosive noises around you.

More fireworks went off, but you blocked out the “oohs” of your friends as he pushed the wet fabric aside. “Bucky,” you whimpered, biting your tongue when he traced a finger along your slick pussy.

“I’ve wanted to touch you all day,” he whispered against your neck, teasing your folds. Your hole clenched before the fingertip even touched it. “I can't believe you’re mine. Keep asking myself how I got so lucky.”

I’m the lucky one.

His finger breached you, making you gasp and grip his arm. His palm pressed against your clit and you couldn’t help but push your hips down, seeking out more friction. You wanted to take care of him, too. Maybe when the two of you went to bed…

Another finger slipped in, curling and thrusting quickly. If you were at home, he’d take more time in taking you apart. He wouldn't stop until you soaked the sheets and even then he might keep going. And he'd make sure you were a quivering mess, mewling and begging for mercy or reprieve.

“Have I told you today how much I love you, babydoll?” He asked, static pleasure coursing through your body as you climbed higher.

Orgasms were a lot like fireworks. Some tumbled slowly in the sky, like a slow fire that coursed through your veins. Others exploded, so large and powerful that you couldn’t keep the sounds of awe in. Then there were small bursts, the ones that got the job done and still felt good.

You wondered what kind of orgasm Bucky would give you tonight.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, colors dancing behind your eyes as you shut them.

You wanted to shout how much you loved Bucky Barnes. You wanted your love for him to burst through the sky like a shooting star. But you didn’t need to put on a show for him to know you were his. He knew you belonged to him.

But you’d still have to try and keep quiet as you clenched around his fingers.

“Please,” you whispered, ready to fall over the edge as his palm rubbed your clit again.

Your head turned and his mouth slanted against yours to swallow down your moan. “Open your eyes,” he whispered, his fingers curling once more as you listened to his command and watched the colors light up his blue eyes. “And come for me.”

Your walls pulsed as the finale began, your cry drowned out by the rapid booms. Your wetness coated his fingers, every nerve cell vibrating as brilliant hues illuminated the sky. The hues swirled in your dizzying head, too. You were flying. Sinking. Floating.

You were a firework.

“Beautiful,” Bucky whispered, guiding you back to him.

Your body stayed lax against his, wishing he didn't have to take his fingers out. “You’re beautiful,” you exhaled, watching him subtly bring his hand to his mouth to taste your release. “Menace,” you added.

This man. I really just let him finger bang me with everyone sitting around.

“Yeah, I am,” he smiled, placing another kiss on your lips as Steve and Sam got up. Natasha and Clint were already up, too, to get more drinks.

If anyone knew what happened, they didn't draw any attention to it.

“Those were even better than last year,” Sam said.

“They were. And now we can have s'mores,” the blonde smiled, stopping to look at his best friend. “I thought you two were going to bed.”

“In a minute,” Bucky said, shifting his hips under yours to let you feel how hard he was. Getting you off turned him on. “Think I need to relax a bit more.”

Yeah, so no one sees you walking around with a raging hard-on.

You wiggled your hips, smiling when your fiancé quietly groaned. “Yeah. Relax,” you sighed, feeling him squeeze your thigh in a warning.

Well, he wanted your attention before and now he had it.

And I’ll make him see fireworks before the night is over, too.

Stud and Smartie need to talk to my muse and make sure Steve has a good birthday. 🥰 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[buckyalpine]

Actor Bucky and actress reader

He cums accidentally while trying to hold it together during a sex scene.

Imagine a gorgeous but shy beefy Bucky nervous as hell filming an intimate scene with his co star because hes harbouring the most massive crush on her.

He in nothing but a tiny cup covering his most private parts, his perky sculpted ass barely covered by the thin sheet laid on top you both.

“You okay?” He whispers, always checking in on you, his large mass covering you entirely. You give him a shy smile, nodding, the feel of your hands moving to drape around his shoulder making him blush.

“Alright! Get ready to sell it Barnes” Tony calls out, hushing everyone before he starts rolling, signalling a thumbs up to sam to start filming “and action!!”

Bucky braces himself on his forearms keeping his body off yours, moving forward instead of actually thrusting. The lewd sounds you start to make make his hips involuntarily buck forward more than necessary and he nearly stutters.

“Oh God! Please, slow down” you cry softly, portraying your role as a shy house wife perfectly, nervous to consummate her marriage.

Bucky doesn’t think he can take your delicate pleading, his cock straining, desperate for some relief. He can feel it leaking the more you moan, his knuckles turning white gripping onto the sheets.

“So good to me” Bucky whispers back, swallowing thickly as his mind starts to wander over how you’d sound it he was actually stretching you out. Would you moan about how he was too big? Would you beg for him to keep going till he dripped right out of your sweet cunt? Would you want to lick and taste how wet he got for you, moaning over how fat and thick his dick was, worried over how you’d fit all of him inside you? His massive size carried all over, the blush on his face spreading to his neck when his erection nearly brushes against your covered core.

You blink up at him, staring into his baby blue eyes feeling his hardness press against you as it grows, nearly wetting the sheets. Your eyes are locked together and Bucky’s sure he’s not going to control himself, not when you’re looking at him like that. Not when you’re biting your lip, he could’ve sworn he felt your hips buck up, your thighs spreading slightly.

You let out a whimper, his warm breath fanning over your face and he can smell how fucking wet you are. He’s humping the air, just centimetres from where he really wants to be, fuck he wasn’t going to hold it, his balls felt tight, his cock was going to fucking burst-

“Kiss me My love” you say your final line before pulling him down for a heated kiss, letting it get more hot and heavy that the script intended. As soon as he tastes your tongue on his, he moans into your mouth, eyes rolling back, his back muscles flexed and tensed as he soaks the with his cum. He doesn’t pull away, tearing the sheets with his grip as he cums hard, his cock throbbing, till he can feel the front all warm and damp, whimpering till he’s all empty.

“AND CUT! FANTASTIC” Tony cheers, over the moon with how it turned out, “that was great and nice touch ripping the sheets Barnes, made it look real. Everyone take 5 and we’ll shoot that diner scene”

Everyone starts to pack up to get ready for the next shoot and Bucky swears he hears you let out a little giggle as you pull away, smiling at his flustered state.

“You okay, Buck?” You coo while he bites back a whine, his softening cock now sensitive and aching. Your assistant runs over to slip you into a robe, dragging you off to hair and makeup while he holds the sheet to the lower half of his body.

He grabs the robe Steve hands to him, smirking at his best friend with his head cocked to the side.

“You sure that was acting, Buck?” Steve snorts, nodding to the wet patch on the sheet while Bucky groans, grabbing it and stuffing it away before running off to his room.

“Shut up”

[queenie-the-court-jester]

break up with your boyfriend

Yandere trans!fem cheerleader x fem reader

It was so shittily made but I need to pump out more fics or else my blog will die. Thank you all for 1k followers though! I'll rewrite this in the future maybe

Tw: mentions of blackmailing, nsfw, slight breeding kink, batshit crazy girlfriend,not proofread, another oc mentioned!?🌺

💄Eva saccharine has been your girlfriend since she first started transitioning. You helped her style her hair, do her nails, pick her clothes, find good makeup, anything she needed to feel like the real her. So when freshman year rolled in, it came as no surprise to you she fit right in with the clique.

💐Ofcourse you had your fears she'd choose them over you but that wasn't the case, because she'd make you eat lunch with them and sit on her lap, not so subtly humping your ass while talking all about cheer practice

🛍️boys wanted to date her, girls wanted to be her. She just wanted you, to just be the two baddest bitches on the block. It didn't matter if you were just like her or the complete opposite, she gushed over you. Praising you for being her good girl, her sweet little princess, her obedient pocket pussy-

💄but at this current moment? She was busy bullying your insides, forcing her fat cock into your slippery hole as she held you steady by your waist. Biting and groaning everytime she'd feel you squeeze that certain spot on her dick

"fu-uuckkk.. baby cakes, 'yer squeezin' me so goood.. ah.. hah.. you wouldn't mind if I pumped a few babes into your tight cunny right? Wanna be my baby mama?"

💐that made you squeeze tighter, holding onto the bedsheets for dear life. She had you face down, ass up and damn near breaking your back with how hard she was going. Hearing the normally composed and playful eva turn into a drooling pussy-drunk mess had you feeling butterflies, just going plap play plap-

🛍️let's just say, by the end of it, you couldn't walk for days afterwards. But no amount of hickies and perfume would be able to scare away a rather persistent guy. He was on the football team, star quarterback, rich asshole. sam white. Eva hated his guts, he thinks he can just waltz in and steal her bitch? Not on her watch.

💄this little feud had been going on for a while, and more times than you could count you've been caught in the crossfire. Though it was kinda funny, seeing them screeching insults at eachother and bickering. Eva would sassily flick her blonde hair and grab you by the collar of your neck, Dragging you away while Sam hooted and hollered at your retreating form

💐you never questioned her morbid fascination with anything horror or paranormal related. She was just obsessed with regular girl things. wanting you to help her summon a demon once, but you aren't that stupid, making blood pacts with them could result in very unsavory ending's and you quite cherished your soul and body

🛍️Eva has more than one account on different social medias, pretending to be multiple different people and Stalking your posts. She'd slide into your dms and flirt, seeing if you'd really cheat on her. She's so happy when you instantly block the account, guess you'll survive not being sent to her basement for another week

💄she has the audacity to grab a frilly pink pen and make you wear clothes that purposely shows off what she wrote. In bright bold lettering, Eva's little cum dump ♡ . Maybe she'll let you bring a jacket, only if you beg her really hard with those big doe eyes she loves. She put a collar and leash on you too

💐don't try breaking up with her, she takes 'they go low, I go lower" to another level. Threatening to post pictures of you in rather compromising positions. When did she record all of this? Who knows. She won't refrain from spreading nasty rumors of you that just force you to come sobbing into her arms, if you try and get comfort from somebody else she won't hesitate to eliminate them. Don't you see? She's the final girl, and you're her love Interest

"I told you not to run pretty baby.. now look what you've done. I gotta fix your mess up~.."

moral of the story: be a loyal loving girlfriend and she'll spoil you rotten with her daddy's black card ♥️

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny has been mostly straight his whole 15 years of life. No his first kiss being Tucker doesn’t count, he will deny that to the end of the world. But he’s never really tried to explore his sexuality because it’s just never been tested.

Meanwhile DAN knows better, he did however not realize Danny wasn’t at the age he figured it out yet.

So Pride rolls around and Dan pops out of Clockwork’s tower and grabs Danny like “hey it’s time for pride.” And Danny is very confused because wtf Dan goes to pride???? He ended the world and despises humans but no, Pride is where he draws the line. Where are they even going for pride???

Gotham. Dan takes them to Gotham for Pride.

-Sincerely, Bisexual Son Dan anon

Danny glances comprehensively at the crowd of colorfully dressed people just as a woman on roller skates wearing nothing but a rainbow skirt and heart pasties flies by. At once, his whole face grows warm, and he drags his eyes down to the concrete before he makes the mistake of lingering on her too much.

He doesn't want her to think he is a creep. Or a pervert. Gosh, what if she thinks he's the reason women can't wear what they like in public because of men like him?

Danny can practically feel Sam stomping on the back of his knees with her metal boots at the mere idea.

The concrete becomes ten times more interesting as he listens to the woman zip away, dodging and weaving through the crowd with a cheer. Danny chances a glance up, only to make direct eye contact with her as she twirls in an impressive circle.

Her skirt fans out, displaying colorful shorts underneath, and she offers him a wink that makes the saliva in his mouth go down the wrong tub.

Half choking Danny, he flings his head away, staring at a different part of the group. He wants to die.

Dan snorts from where he is carefully painting a heart on the entire left side of his face. The older man had yanked him into the portal with barely an explanation and then opened a handheld mirror to paint himself with.

The heart is large, dramatic, and in three colors. Danny thinks they represent something, but he has yet to learn what. "Relax, kid. She won't bite- you don't have the bits she's into."

"What? Where are we? Why did you bring me here? Whats' going on!" Danny demands, clinging to Dan's arm as the man places the final white dots on his heart.

"We are in the best place to be in all of the Realms," Dan answers, gesturing to their surroundings. "Pride in Gotham! I brought you here to enjoy the festivities before I kick your ass in a re-match. Think of this as a second Truce Day."

"Pride?" Danny repeats, confused. Why would a person responsible for the world's end care about a minor holiday like that? Then, his mind caught up to the rest of what he said, making Danny even more confused. "Why would this count as a Truce day?"

Dan hums, pulling his long hair into a braid with careful but quick movements. "In the Realms, romance is regarded as a scarred topic and will be treated with the utmost respect. Ghosts rarely get married, so worrying about what gender people date is none existing. Unless you're stuck in a punishment island, but being in an endless era means ghosts never leave them. In this world, Gotham suffers an insane amount of crime, and on holidays, it's twice as bad, except for Valentine's Day and Pride. It's the only time the Rouges work together to ensure the city can enjoy themselves. You see? It alines in the dead and living worlds!"

Danny blinks slowly, "I don't understand any of that or why we are here."

Dan finishes his hair, by adding a little rainbow bow to the end. He truns a critical eye on Danny, looking him up and down then pulling out a pack of fake eyelashes. "I have rainbow heart lashes if you want to try them on."

"Answer my questions!"

The older man sighs as if Danny is in colossal pain, which is rude, considering he was the one who had dragged Danny from the street on his way home. "We're just here to enjoy the Pride Street Market. Maybe partake in a few contests if we're feeling brave. Look at booths. Watch the parade. You know, have fun."

"We," Danny gestures aggressively between them, just barely stopping himself from stomping his foot. "Don't do things together for fun!" And why Pride of all places, I'm not even gay!"

"I don't believe that."

Danny draws up short. "Excuse me!?"

"I said I don't believe you're not gay. I remember being your age. I was you, remember? I know how you reacted to Wes Weston."

The thought of the basketball-playing ginger runs through his head, sending a strange tingle through his body. Danny has always assumed that he was wary of the one person outside his friends who knew his secret. He can't believe Dan would even suggest that it was anything but weariness. "You mean the creep that follows me, trying to take my picture mid-transformation!?"

Dan shrugs. "You have a lot of things to wise up to. You're young; you don't know yet what having your picture taken does to you."

"What does that even mean!?"

Dan shrugs, putting away all his things in a convenient portal that pops up. "It means you're young. You'll learn."

Danny frowns, ready to demand more, when a shout of his older counterpart's name draws his attention. He twists around, looking into the flow of the crowd only to be surprised again by the more people in various revealing outfits, some of which warm his face.

Walking towards them is a man in a biker jacket, built like a brick house and towering over the people he passes. He's got big, heavy stomping boots, the kind that Sam would fist fight someone for, andan attractiveg white streak in his hair.

Was he a model?

Besides the rainbow wristband, nothing indicates he's here for pride.

"Jason!" Dan greets, grabbing the other by the outstretched arm and yanking in for a one-hand hug. "How have you been man?"

"Same old, same old," Jason responds with a laugh. Danny notes that he has a charming voice. He also has bright blue eyes and a sharp jawline—even the slope of his nose seems perfect. Danny didn't even know that was possible in noses. "Just got accepted to Gotham U for their English program."

"That's great! You'll obviously go to graduate at the top. No one is better at English than you." Dan chirps. Danny is too busy staring up at Jason in awe to be embarrassed by the eagerness with which Dan speaks to his friend. It was like listening to Jazz when she met that one famous poet at a slam and was tripping over herself to ask for his number.

Jason glances down at Danny, rasing a brow. "This is?"

Dan startsles almost as if he forgot he had kidnapped someone. " Oh, right. This is my baby brother, Danny."

"Oh," Jason grins, dragging out the o sound. He turns to Danny—who actually flinches back—and holds out his hand. "Dan told me all about you. I'm Jason Todd. Nice to meet you."

"Um...I- nice to meet. My name is. I mean, it's nice to meet you too. I'm Danny Fenton." He wants to barf.

This is worse than when Wes had cornered him in the boy's locker room, clutching his camera and hissing that he intended to document every moment of Danny's day for signs of Phantom.

It did make sense that any friends of Dan's- bringers of apocalypse, destroyers of humanity- made him uneasy. He's probably evil too.

"This is Danny's first Pride," Dan tells Jason in the same tone a parent would say: This is his first day of preschool. Dannny burns in embarrassment.

"Nice. You picked the great one to start in, kid. Gotham Pride is the best in the whole country." Jason says, tilting his head towards the booths. "My brother is helping his boyfriend run an informational booth for various sexualities if you're interested"

Dan steps forward with bright eyes. "Tim and Bernard are finally official?"

"Five months strong," Jason confirms with a laugh. You think Timmy would have realized it after going on three dates with the guy. It took Bernard getting kidnapped midway by a pain cult for it to click in Tim's head.

"He's young" Dan laughs, gesturing to a stun Danny. "Like this one."

"Ah, to be young and not dead." Jason sighed, sidestepping a child who ran by with a giant rainbow balloon. It smacked against Danny, waking him from whatever trace he was under.

Danny doesn't know what to make of all this. Figuring he should escape while Dan is distracted by the model man, he steps back, attempting to activate his powers, only to be shocked when he remains solid and in sight. Dan glances at him with an evil light in his eye.

"Lady Gotham nuterlizes our powers here. You have to be normal." He says and Jason titls his head.

"He's dead too?"

"A Halfa."

"Ah" Jason looks down at Danny who was starting to panic. "You want to go grab something to eat? There is this one food truck on the other side of the plaza run by the Riddler. He makes a mean BBQ."

At this point, did Danny even have a choice? "Okay."

Pride turned out to be surprisingly fun, and he learned that the paint that Dan had colored himself with was the "pansexual" flag. Also, Jason's parents must have marinated him in hotness juice alongside his siblings before letting any of them be born.

Hot damn.

Danny accepted the pansexual flag that Dan silently handed to him as the Waynes conversed at Tim's booth.

Maybe he should text Wes when he gets back from Pride.

[take-it-on-the-run]

And I Love Her

Sam Winchester x Reader

The reader and Dean are being tortured by Gordon Walker because of her relationship with Sam, and all they can do is hope he'll get there in time.

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags: Torture, graphic depictions of being cut into, descriptions of gore and severe bodily harm, Sam Winchester is out of character depending on who you ask

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Dean Winchester, Gordon Walker

@ghostlyaccurate requested: "Hii! Can I request a Dean and/or Sam Winchester (sepperate) x fem! Reader set in season two, with an established relationship, where it's like when Gordon kidnaps Dean, but instead of just Dean he also kidnaps reader. (I can imagine if it's a Dean x reader Gordon uses reader to get Dean to not try anything, and if it's a Sam x reader Sam just going even more ballistic than he originally does in the show). Thank you!!"

Read it on AO3!

A/N: Beatles title. My first Sam fic! Honestly, it was really hard writing this one for some reason, and after five revisions I'm still not completely in love with it. Regardless, I hope you enjoy, and heed the warnings! Do not read if this will make you uncomfortable!

Sam Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

Gordon stared blankly at the wall in front of him while you tugged at the ropes on your wrists. A bandana was tied tightly around your mouth that tasted like dirt and your own blood. Dean was tied up to the left of you in a similar state, and both of you were staring down Gordon like it would kill him.

Traps lined every entrance from the doors to every small crack in the wall. Sam was powerful, but you doubted he could break through solid brick. Grenades, tripwire, even a shotgun trap that looked like something straight out of a movie; Gordon wanted Sam dead at all costs.

You knew your boyfriend would come to you and Dean’s rescue, but damn was this cutting it close. Gordon had already tried his best with Dean, but when it was your turn, he took his sweet-ass time.

He punched you, kicked you, even spit on you. Now, you tried your best to not scream as he dragged a knife against the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder.

You failed.

Biting down on the bandana, a muffled scream ripped through your lungs. You tried focusing on Dean, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes which were spilling over with more tears than you thought were in your body.

You could feel your blood dripping down your back and your chest, slithering its way to the floor as Gordon wiped his blade with the rag in his back pocket. He wrenched your head to the side, forcing the fresh wound close and for more tears to streak down your face.

He repeated his process on you a few times.

Your arms.

Your hands.

Your legs.

Every time somehow hurt more than the last, the hunter pulling open your skin and snapping it back together like a rubber band. Your vision was spotty, but you held steadfast to the thought that your boyfriend would be here any minute to save the day like he always did.

Gordon took a step back, wiping sweat and blood from his face and arms. He looked down at you with a glare that you’ve held plenty of times for the less-than-human creatures in the world. You guessed that, in his eyes, you, Sam, and Dean, were held in a similar regard.

Snaps.

Taunts.

Cracks.

Screams.

All because you fell in love with someone born under a bad sign.

You didn’t regret meeting Sam. Kissing him, falling for him, even the idea of just having him in your life was enough for your mind to justify the situation you were in. It wasn’t his fault you were having your life drained out of you minute by minute, and you hoped he would be smart enough to know that.

“Sam’s going to be here any minute, you know. Gotta convince himself he’s the hero of this story, and I’m the big,” Gordon turned to you, knife in hand, “bad, evil dragon. But I’m not the one with demon blood, am I, Y/N?” He placed the edge of the blade against the bottom of your chin. You could feel the cold steel heavy against your skin, and any sudden move would surely spill even more of your blood.

Dean glared at Gordon, his face shades of purple and blue, which mirrored the pain you felt along your entire body. Gordon dug the knife into the bottom of your chin, piercing your skin ever so slightly, but not enough to fatally wound you. Your mind was trying hard to hold onto the cracks of reality that remained in your vision; the smell of the dingy house you were in, the feeling of the carpet making contact with your boots, anything that wouldn’t send your consciousness reeling over was enough of an anchor for you to hang onto.

Gordon walked away from the two of you, returning to his position of peering out one of the boarded-up windows in wait for Sam. You glanced at Dean, which granted you a glance back from him. His eyes were dry, but they held enough behind them to let you know what he was thinking. Sam was going to burst into this booby-trapped hellhole, and Dean could do nothing but blame himself.

It’s all your fault, really, a thought that smashed through what you knew was the truth said.

This isn’t any of our faults, you told it back, wanting to tell Dean the same. Sam wasn’t to blame for the two of you being taken, and neither of you was at fault for being used as bait; it all landed in the hands of the rogue hunter who deemed himself holier-than-thou.

Though you couldn’t see yourself, you knew you were starting to resemble a bloody pulp more than a human being. Dean could barely look your way for longer than a second, and deep cuts that surged whether you moved or not continued to scrape away at your consciousness.

Gordon disappeared, and as you tried to turn your head to follow him, you felt a burning pain across your chest. Highlighted by a spurt of blood splattering over your thighs, you wanted to vomit. The top of your head started to feel like it was being lifted off from the rest of your skull, and the black spots in your vision connected at the edges of your eyes.

You grunted, head going slack and opening wounds on the back of your neck. Either spit, blood, or bile dripped out of your mouth, but at that moment you didn’t care- the black at the corners of your eyes bled together, and all you could do was limply hope Sam would find you.

You blinked, slowly, noticing light creeping in from the boarded-up windows. The second thing you noticed was the searing pain in your body, coupled with grunting and what you could guess was a well-landed punch.

“Y/N!” Someone called out to you, but you could barely lift your head to meet their voice. The bandana in your mouth was pulled away and hands cupped your face, warming your skin that was ice cold after losing so much blood.

The hands left your face and moved to the ropes at your wrists, cutting them off quickly and placing your arms in your lap. You forced your eyes up high enough to see it was your hero, Sam, standing before you with tears starting to fill his eyes. If your face would’ve let your smile, you would’ve, but every movement flashed the memory of Gordon cutting into you.

Gordon.

“Where’s-” You managed to sputter out through a sore jaw and a severely dry mouth.

“Dead,” Sam answered coldly. For the first time, you noticed his knuckles were a hue of bright purple, complimented with blood splattering up his arm. Sam moved your arms around his neck and picked you up as gently as he could.

“Dean’s already in the car patching himself up. I’m going to try and lay you down in the back seat so we can get to the closest hospital. I left Gordon in the room by the first door, so keep your head to my chest if you don’t want to see him, okay?” He asked softly. The tears that were in his eyes had faded slightly, but you could see the emotions he’d no doubt try to hide later on. Regret, blame, guilt - the more he looked at you, the more you could sense that your battered state was tearing away at his consciousness. You wanted to reach out, hold his face, and tell him you’d be okay, you’d survived worse, that it wasn’t his fault, but your thoughts were halted by Sam stepping past Gordon’s body.

If you could call it a body, that is.

His nose was sunken into his face enough that his eyes were slightly popping out of their sockets. His mouth had more gums than teeth, which were scattered around the room. He was lying against a dresser, and his limbs were spread out in the wrong directions. You thought you saw a bone, but before you could look closer, Sam turned and shut the door behind you.

Sam laid you across the back seats of the Impala, trying his best to be gentle with the abhorrent number of cuts across your body. You couldn’t guess how the hospital wasn’t going to ask questions, but you hoped the brothers would figure that out. Your head laid in Sam’s lap, and he looked out the window as Dean buried Gordon.

“Sam,” you slowly moved one of your arms to his face, bringing his attention to you, “thank you. You saved us both. You had to do what you had to do.”

Sam smiled but still didn’t say a word as he dipped down and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You wanted to be able to tell him everything your racing mind was coming up with but were beaten by the overwhelming need to not move. Dean climbed into the front seat, beating the gas pedal to the floor and hitting the highway as Sam ran his fingers comfortingly through your hair.

[cobaltperun]

Jerks With Hearts of Gold

Tara Carpenter x female Reader (Request)

Masterlist

@alexkolax here you go, sorry I left his for last, I had a blast writing it! Not sure if this completely fits the frenemies to lovers you requested, but I think it turned out fine. Thanks for the wonderful request! 😁😁💙💙 Also this is merged with a similar request here.

Word count: 4.8k

“No, you hear me! Quit picking apart every single thing you watch!” there they go again…

Sam groaned, burying her head in the pillow as she got front seat experience to yet another argument between Tara and you.

“I’m not! I just can’t turn my brain off!” you exclaimed and reluctantly Sam opened her eyes. There you and Tara were, arguing while the twins and Anika laughed their asses off, because of course they would.

“It’s a horror comedy!” Tara argued back, and by this point someone just needed to nudge either of you and you’d just kiss. But no one was doing that, because, according to Mindy, the professional expert, the two of you would just act disgusted and avoid each other. Meaning it probably happened before.

Although, according to Anika, the two of you were already together. Because, well, Tara brought you into the group. She vouched for you, granted behind your back, but still, she, apparently, hated your guts, yet she was the one who dragged you, literally, into the friend group.

Sam still remembered your valiant efforts to get free from Tara’s grip, yelling ‘Unhand me, Carpenter!’ as loud as it was socially acceptable in a park, while Tara grumbled something along the lines. ‘Trust me, I would, but someone insisted on meeting you!’ to this day they had no idea who insisted on meeting you. Because none of them did! Yet Tara claimed Chad did when he was drunk and that… wasn’t impossible, but it was a bit of a stretch.

At this point Sam was very temped to do it, just shove Tara into your arms. You’d either get together or stop talking to each other for a few days and as far as Sam was concerned either option was a win.

Wait… If you got together, you’d be here more often. You’d argue with Tara even more.

No. No! You would absolutely not get together!

Sam would not allow it!

“It’s too ridiculous to be considered a comedy! The woman’s head gets pulled off her body!” you shouted, arguing about whatever happened in the movie.

“Y/N…” Tara’s eye twitched, but she didn’t need her inhaler, so Sam was at least at peace with that. It really was you and Tara being plain and simple childish.

“And that dance montage? Get that out of here!” you complained and for a moment Sam could have sworn your and Tara’s hands touched, just for a moment.

Tara threw her hands up, so Sam must have been seeing things. “The actors were underage, what did you want?!”

“Not even implications, thank you very much!” well, Sam could see some reason in that argument.

Mindy apparently had enough and snapped her fingers getting your and Tara’s attention, though it was clear both of you were reluctant to give it to her. “Come on, at least agree that the actress is pretty,” she said, and the actress really was beautiful, so hopefully you and Tara could find common ground there. Instead of bickering about that as well.

“Never. She looks like Tara,” you immediately shut the idea of agreeing on anything down.

“Excuse me, what?” Tara demanded. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

You turned back to Tara and slowly smirked. “Oh, you know exactly what it means,” a moment later Tara was storming into her room, her face red with anger, and you as satisfied as you were just sat back down and sipped on your drink.

At least it was clear you and Tara weren’t getting together anytime soon, so Sam could relax.

There was one time she saw this happen and she began threatening you, only for Tara to come out, yelling that she would deal with you and that Sam shouldn’t get involved. Sam sighed back then, accepting that somehow Tara just liked having her buttons pushed by you, and pushing your buttons in return. It was a strange frenemy situation you and Tara were in, but Sam begrudgingly learnt to accept it.

~X~

Jerk, that’s what you were. Of course she knew exactly what you meant, and you were a jerk for that, making her flustered. She was lying on her bed, looking at the ceiling, still blushing, though not as much as when she came into her room. You were still as annoying as you were the first time you met.

She met you in a literature class, and she was the only one taking it so she couldn’t sit next to Mindy, Chad, or Anika. And by pure, dumb, luck, she sat down next to you, and she regretted it immediately as she could smell the cigarette smoke on your clothes and she couldn’t move away since the seats were taken, and well, plenty of students smoked so she kinda learnt to deal with it. Especially while she was going to parties where cigarettes were the least of her problems. As far as her asthma went.

It still irritated her lungs.

“Hey, I’m Y/N L/N,” you introduced yourself and she was weary, of course she was, she was targeted by Ghostface twice. It was a miracle no one she loved was killed the last time, though both Anika and Gale just barely survived.

So, when you immediately introduced yourself she was suspicious, even though she was the one who sat down next to you. It was just her paranoia. “Tara Carpenter, it’s nice to meet you,” she still accepted your hand because she still, despite being paranoid, wished to live a relatively normal life.

And that’s how you met, you didn’t give off psycho vibes, granted neither did Ethan and Quinn, and she didn’t even want to think about Amber. But she felt strangely comfortable, despite the scent of cigarette smoke.

“You okay?” you noticed her discomfort, a lot faster than most people would.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it. Just my asthma,” she smiled lightly, she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but she didn’t feel like lying.

Your eyes widened and you cursed under your breath, understanding what she meant. And you pulled your chair further away from her. “Shit, I’m sorry. I would switch, but,” you sheepishly rubbed the back of your head. “The only people I know in this class smoke a lot more than I do,” you did get up to open the window a few feet away from you as Tara looked at you, honestly not sure if she should get suspicious or if she should find your actions endearing. “Does this help?”

Tara nodded, it did help a bit. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

She had no idea it wouldn’t even take half an hour for your first argument to happen… And it began so nicely.

~X~

You were grinning like a fool in the Carpenter sister’s apartment, doing your best to ignore Sam’s exasperated look and Anika’s suspicious glances. You’ve come a long way since you met the group nine months ago. They initially glared daggers at you, Sam especially, when you and Tara argued in front of them the first time. Well, argued wasn’t exactly the right word, more like a very heated disagreement on a minor detail in the movie you just watched. Now they just accepted it as normal between the two of you and learnt to ignore or find amusement in it.

You barely even remembered what the book you started arguing about was, but you remembered very clearly what the argument was. And you felt sorry for it right now, as you didn’t know how close to home you were hitting.

“It’s a debate, on whether or not people deserve a second chance,” Tara answered the question the teacher asked.

“Correct, thank you. And what would you say, Miss-“ the man paused, having yet to learn all your names.

“Carpenter, sir. I say it depends on what is done and if there is an excuse and effort to fix things,” she said, convinced of her belief.

She sat down as you watched her, you agreed with her, though in your experience people rarely put enough effort to fix things. Still, you wanted to see how strong her conviction was.

“Does anyone have a different opinion?” the teacher asked and you raised your hand. “Yes?”

“I disagree entirely. It doesn’t depend, there’s no going back after broken trust, there will always be cracks, fears, doubts,” you argued and saw Tara raising an eyebrow as you focused almost entirely on her. “And people rarely put enough effort to make it up to the one they hurt.”

Tara bit the corner of her lip, and you’d later find out it was a habit when she was getting a bit anxious. Since you found out you made sure to never bring her to that point. Well, nowadays your arguments were mostly silly. “It’s not just one person that needs to make an effort. Both need to do their part if they want to rebuild their relationship,” she countered, briefly apologizing to the teacher for speaking out of turn, but the man just gave the two of you a go ahead.

“People who hurt you, truly hurt you, leaving deep scars, emotional or of any other kind, either don’t love you, or have no control over themselves, and it takes a lot of effort to fix the second one,” rare few were strong and mature enough to fix that, to gain control, and not do it again, and even fewer did it while accepting that the one they hurt didn’t owe them a second chance.

“You can’t know what they went through, some people need help to do that,” Tara argued and you didn’t realize until later that day that she wasn’t just talking about some belief she had, that she actually went through that.

“Exactly, because I didn’t do it to them. And I refuse to pay for the damage someone else did,” you countered and the argument continued, going back and forth, without either of you being necessarily wrong or right, it really depended on the point of view. You just had the tendency to be a lot more direct and confident in your arguments, making them sound stronger than they perhaps truly were. Tara was more willing to meet in the middle, to avoid direct confrontation, and it made her a much more pleasant discussion partner.

~X~

Tara scrolled through her photos, through a secret album that required a password, just in case anyone got really curious. The photos were completely innocent, but it was the person she was with that made them a secret. And she grinned, looking at the two of you laughing, your arm around her as you hugged her from behind and she took the picture.

You loved going on her nerves, but you had your moments, rare moments where you were just completely soft with her. She had literature class twice a week, and two weeks in she was a hundred percent sure you were a menace she would gladly kick out of the class, just so she never had to look at your face and smug smile and rare, soft smile, ever again.

She noticed it in the second week, but she wrote it off as an accident. But the scent of cigarette smoke was weaker than the first week. You probably didn’t get a chance to smoke before class. And then the second week she realized she couldn’t smell cigarette smoke on you at all. She was breathing perfectly fine, nothing in her vicinity irritated her lungs, but she didn’t say anything. Surely you didn’t quit cigarettes for her.

Any idea that you did that went crashing down through the closed window on the third floor their classroom was on and landed on the harsh concrete with multiple deep lacerations from the glass. Because five minutes later you were arguing about the book that was assigned to read. Even the teacher was getting a bit annoyed by the two of you at this point. But he encouraged healthy debates, and you and Tara were, technically, still having just a debate.

The week after that, when she once more didn’t smell the familiar irritating scent she just had to ask. “Did you quit smoking?” it was rare for the two of you to have a civil conversation that probably couldn’t start an argument, but maybe this would end like that.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Figured it was healthier, and I really don’t want to trigger your asthma, so two birds with one stone, I guess,” you sounded confident, but you still looked away, proving to her that you could, after all, get a bit shy.

“Oh,” Tara, however, was blushing, the heat in her cheeks was damn near unbearable, because even Sam still smoked occasionally. “Thanks,” she pushed her chair a bit closer to you and pulled her things out of her bag.

“Don’t mention it,” you said softly. And then, as if your softer, gentles, kinder, side ran out of battery, you went right back to how things were the past couple of weeks. “Your essay is nonsense; I don’t agree with one thing you wrote.”

Curse the teacher for making you give each other your assignments to read and debate on! “Yours was complete bullshit, I swear you just typed words until you reached the necessary length,” she fired back, both of you already slightly grinning.

~X~

Tara was easily the best person you could have ended up sitting next to for your literature class, though you would never, absolutely never, say that to her face. The only issue was that you absolutely could not go one class without bickering.

You had a long night at work and were actually quite sleepy during the lesson one time, about a month into the semester, and you were catching every other word at best. Your notes weren’t making any sense, and you even had no energy to argue with Tara. So, maybe, just maybe, the day would end without arguing.

“Here,” Tara sighed, pushing her notebook closer to you near the end of the class and you raised an eyebrow. “Just copy my notes,” she told you.

You smiled, leaning closer to her and if anyone said your shoulders were touching they were being a huge liar. The biggest of them all, because there was absolutely no contact between you and Tara Carpenter.

None whatsoever.

“Tara,” you whispered and looked at her, completely serious. “Your handwriting is awful,” you told her, and you swore you saw a vein pop up on her forehead.

“That’s what I get for trying to help you,” she shook her head in disbelief, though she didn’t take her notebook back.

~X~

You and Tara rarely hung out outside of classes before she introduced you to her friends. But there was one time, when all her friends went back to their parents and Sam was working a night shift, so, Tara went to your apartment, dragged you out of your comfy bed, she actually did that. Well, she tried, she was strong given her size, but she wasn’t that strong.

You still remembered the terror you felt. You opened your doors to Tara, woken up about an hour after you fell asleep and let her in. You didn’t even argue, you just closed the doors behind her and went right to your bed and fell back onto it as she rambled about some party or whatever. Something about Sam not letting her go to a party alone, and you were her only option. How was she even going to explain to Sam that she wasn’t going alone? Sam had no idea you even existed!

Okay, maybe she did know you existed if Tara complained about you, but that definitely didn’t make you a fitting candidate to keep Tara company at a party. You were just about to fall back asleep, Tara being in your apartment didn’t bother you one bit, she’d get bored and leave. But then she began pulling your hand to get up.

“Don’t wanna,” you mumbled sleepily, and surprisingly she let go.

Which was very concerning.

You opened one eye and saw Tara taking several steps back with a very mischievous grin on her face and then charging forward. “Tara!” you cried out, fully awake and jumping to your feet as she landed on your bed, elbow right where your guts was, though you doubted that part was intentional.

Your bed miraculously survived the Tara bomb.

Tara laughed as she rolled to the side, lying her head on your pillow and an annoying part of your brain found the image in front of you rather appealing. “You should have seen the look on your face!” she exclaimed, holding her stomach while laughing.

You smirked, ready for verbal payback. “And you are really eager to ride me,” her laughter stopped, her face turned red and you, satisfied with your work, grabbed some clothes and went to the bathroom to change.

Luckily, you didn’t get too drunk that night and by the morning Sam had no idea Tara spent the night anywhere but in her bed. Though she, truthfully, crashed at your place for the night. You, of course, took the couch. And just thinking about sleeping on the couch made you frown. As that was what you’ve been doing for the past two weeks and your body was starting to get stiff, because that thing was not meant to be used for sleeping for extended periods of time.

You couldn’t say you regretted it though. You just couldn’t wait to get a new bed.

~X~

If there was one thing Tara learnt to appreciate about you, it was how predictable you were with her. Come hell or high water she could count on you to argue with her just because you found it fun to debate about things. And as months passed you went from annoying classmate always playing a devil’s advocate and arguing with her on everything, to an actually pleasant company. Most of the times. Sometimes.

She felt like she could trust you. She felt like she could fall for you and not regret it.0

What she didn’t expect was genuine compassion from you. And it happened so abruptly, so out of nowhere, she couldn’t even see it coming.

The two of you met at the front doors as you usually did for the few weeks prior to that day. And the floors were wet, just recently cleaned, but she was so out of it since she was accidentally reminded of Amber that she didn’t notice and she slipped, falling backwards. She wasn’t sure if she released any sounds, but the next moment you were behind her, holding her firmly, one of your hands on her side, the other around her shoulders, with the back of her head leaning on your chest. You were holding her, making sure you’d take the worst of the fall if you still went down, if you didn’t manage to stand firmly enough on the slippery floor.

“I got you,” you told her, clearly concerned, and Tara just leaned against you, barely supporting her weight.

“Can I trust you?” she asked, almost out of breath.

You nodded, your eyes filled with conviction. You weren’t messing around, you weren’t going to argue, you were there, one hundred percent. “I’m here for you, anytime,” you assured her and she grabbed onto your hand, still on her side, accidentally covering one of her stab wounds, and Tara, surprisingly felt completely safe, protected.

“Skip class with me?” she asked and you nodded, helping her regain her balance and the class was soon forgotten. She took you to your place, since Sam was still at home and your place was closer anyway.

You didn’t say one word, but you remained close to her, your hands brushing against one another as you walked and when you went into your apartment you sat down right next to her. Your presence was comforting, though at this point she wasn’t surprised by that.

Tara took a deep breath, preparing herself for what she wanted to do. She wanted to let you in, to fully trust you, to introduce you to her friends and Sam. “Do you know what happened in Woodsboro?” she began and your eyes widened, and that was all she needed to know as she began talking. She poured it all out, Sam, Amber, deaths of her dear friends, the betrayal, coming to New York, and what happened with Richie’s family, she told you everything. Every single feeling she had, things she found difficult to talk about with her therapist, or even with Sam, it just all burst out, like whatever contained those feelings suddenly burst and cracked, letting it all out.

And you remained silent, though you hugged her, tight and gentle at the same time. And it felt so good she climbed onto your lap, clutching at the back of your shirt, clinging to you as hard as she could. You didn’t complain, you just wrapped your arms around her, pulling her closer, your hands trembling slightly in barely concealed anger. Hearing you gritting your teeth, feeling your fingers twitching, and your body just barely relaxing when her warmth and weight, and voice right in your ear would remind you that she was, in fact, still here, it all felt good to her.

It felt like she was, at least a tiny bit, being released from the horrors she went through.

Though she still didn’t introduce you to others, it took nearly four months for that to happen, and by then, well, a lot of things happened.

~X~

You figured enough time passed that you could move away from your spot and leave the conversation you were having with Chad. “Sorry, I’ll be right back,” you purposely pointed toward the bathroom and hopped to your feet. You went into the hall, and making sure no one was behind you, just went the opposite way and snuck into Tara’s room.

She turned on her bed and smiled, reaching out for you as you knelt on her bed and kissed her soft lips. Damn, you wished you could do this freely, just kiss her whenever you wanted, but you understood her friends might not be ready to accept you as Tara’s girlfriend, and not just classmate she loved bickering with. You licked her lips, just lightly teasing her as she hugged you, her fingers already gently massaging the back of your head.

“I can’t believe the bickering is still working,” you muttered between the kisses. Sure, you and Tara still enjoyed an occasional debate here and there, but you stopped bickering almost a year ago! And the bickering still worked on her friends! And you’ve been sneaking behind their back, sneaking in kisses all over Tara’s apartment. In the kitchen, bathroom if you were really desperate, or the hall if you were feeling rather bold, but for the most part it was in her room, just like this. Tara would storm into her room, you’d wait, and go after her, sneaking a quick make-out session in before you’d come back from wherever you were.

Things were a bit different this time around, as Tara kissed you harder than before, pushing you until your positions were switched and she was straddling you. She grabbed onto your collar, pushing it to the side so she could kiss the spot where your neck and shoulder met, and, though a bit risky, she decided to leave a mark, biting the spot and sucking as you grabbed onto her hips to steady yourself.

“Tara,” you sat up, you both knew you didn’t have much time. “We shouldn’t risk it,” you told her, but you still pulled her in for another kiss, your tongues meeting as her hands gripped your shoulders.

“Just a bit more, I miss this,” she admitted, and you missed it too, and it was worth getting caught to you, but you weren’t completely sure it was worth it to Tara.

In the end, you just said screw it and kissed along her jaw, gradually going lower until your lips met her neck.

“Remember how flustered you got when I kissed you for the first time?” Tara asked out of blue, sighing and holding your head close to her neck. Well, maybe it wasn’t completely out of blue, next week would be a year since you got together.

“You were so damn smug about it,” you grumbled, though you still kissed the side of Tara’s neck, paying extra attention to the more sensitive spots, while, much to your annoyance, making sure you didn’t leave marks anywhere visible.

“Mhm, you deserve it for making me work for it,” she grinned, her hold on you growing stronger as she bit her lip to stop herself from moaning.

You pulled back and looked her in the eyes and then at her lips, inviting, beautiful. She was absolutely the most beautiful woman you ever saw, so no, Tara wasn’t pretty. She was much, much more than that. And you kissed her, pouring all of your passion and love for her into the kiss, deepening it as Tara moaned. The feeling of her body pressed against you made you wish you could just stop hiding from her friends and Sam.

And then four very loud gasps, followed by yelps and doors slamming against the wall and then bodies stumbling onto the floor on a pile of limbs and everything else, with poor Chad underneath the three women broke you and Tara apart.

“Y-You two are-“ Mindy stuttered, and you had to admit you enjoyed the professional expert being surprised.

“Together? Yes,” you shrugged, the cat was out of the bag, and you couldn’t exactly say you were arguing telepathically and needed to have your tongue deep inside Tara’s mouth to do so.

The four of them scrambled to their feet and just looked at you and Tara like nothing ever surprised them as much as this.

Eventually, Anika got over her surprise and offered an open palm to Mindy and Chad. “Pay up, I guessed it right,” Anika demanded from them.

The twins groaned and you and Tara watched incredulously as they each pulled out twenty bucks and gave them to Anika. But nothing, not twins and Anika betting on whether you and Tara were together, not their surprised faces, not your secret being revealed, nothing. Absolutely nothing compared to Sam’s expression. She looked like someone completely shattered her brain.

“Sam?” Tara tried calling her sister, just to snap her out of the stupor.

“You two… for how long?” Sam managed to utter.

“Uh, before you guys even met me,” you admitted sheepishly, and nudged Tara to get off your lap, but she was comfortable and very few things could get Tara off your lap, especially now that you two got caught.

Not that you minded, you loved when she was on your lap, but her sister might get a heart attack if this continues, and you didn’t want Sam to die.

Sam nodded, she nodded several times, humming to herself before she just walked out of Tara’s room. “She’ll get used to it,” Tara shrugged as Sam gave you two a thumbs up.

Sam took a deep, rather audible breath and came back, pointing right at you. “Don’t break Tara’s heart,” she warned with her best glare, which was actually intimidating.

“Yeah, don’t worry about that,” Tara reassured her before you could answer, and frankly, you loved how quickly she said that. “We kinda broke her bed back at her place, so… not saying that won’t happen ever again,” she chuckled sheepishly as your eyes widened and you all turned to Tara. Well, you did break the bed, but she did not need to tell them that.

Sam opened her mouth, but then closed it as Tara shrugged, acting like she was completely innocent in that case of property damage.

“I think we might have broken Sam,” Tara told you, clearly surprised that that was even a possibility, and she glanced at the rest of your friends and then gestured at the doors.

“Right! Got it!” they scampered outside as you and Tara chuckled, and just like that you were alone once more.

“I love you, you know,” you said as you kissed her cheek and she just grinned.

“I know,” she smirked, barely holding her laughter back as you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, come the fuck on!” you groaned, dropping down onto the bed and pulling Tara on top of you.

Tara laughed like she just heard the best joke ever. Well, she did love teasing you. “I love you too,” she said as her laughter subsided and she kissed you on the lips.

[bucknastysbabe]

Rating: Explicit

Tags: TW//Dubcon, learned helplessness, slut shaming, manipulation, obsession, This is not a nice pookie he’s very disturbed, pnv!sex, forced orgasm, he does touch the clit, overstimulation, drooling, dacryphilia, angst, Criston stop mentioning her family challenge

A/N: I was feeling evil. Anyways word to @starogeorgina for the chain in mouth idea

Taglist: @arcielee @aemonds-holy-milk @bambitas @elaratyrell @jamespotterismydaddy @lovelykhaleesiii @peachysunrize @starogeorgina @towriteloveontheirarms @zaldritzosrose

The gold hands kept your mouth open, drool dripping from your stretched lips. The Lord Commander was in a dark mood. He’d been taking it out on you, one of the ladies-in-waiting…truly a political hostage. His calloused hands hiked up your dress to expose your ass and cunt. You squirmed under his heat and touch.

The worst part of it all. He knew you. Your elder brother Alan trained with him at Blackhaven, they fought off the Dornish together in the wilds. You’d danced with a younger Criston Cole as a girl. He was much kinder then, almost shy, nothing like what this monster was.

You’d been reduced to a fuck toy.

A gloved hand pressed you down, your elbows painfully hitting his desk, spilling some ink across the table. Ser Criston snapped, smacking your ass, “Be godsdamn still.” You whimpered softly, teeth painfully biting into his chain. He sucked a dark mark on your neck, then another, biting down. The knight left marks no dress of yours could hide.

He was possessive, it wasn’t a well-kept secret around the keep that Lord Commander Cole was fucking Lord Tarly’s daughter. Court whispers assumed it was a sort of revenge for Alan Tarly flying black banners. He would shrug in public, sneering and declaring you a whore like the Queen your brother rallied for. He’d jest he wouldn’t touch you with a lance, dark eyes shining with mirth.

Criston’s hands ran up your trembling thighs, one of his thick boots kicking your feet apart. You remained still as the sounds of him jerking his sword belt off, pulling apart the bottom half of his white gambeson filled your ears. You whined, tears dripping with your drool onto the desk.

You cried because he still made you aroused, even after all of his mean mind games and brutal fucking. Some nights he would finish off and wipe you clean, petting your hair and talking about the Marches. His dark eyes would gaze at you…then slowly Criston would become so aggravated he would kick you out in a frenzy, your clothes barely back on.

Criston huffed, sliding the blunt tip of his prick against your swollen folds. One of his hands reached for your waist, gripping at the soft flesh there. Cole breathed, “You’re always so wet for me. What would your late father think? His sweet ‘maiden’ daughter taking cock like a whore. At least Sam and Sansara have a sense of aligning with the correct house.”

Only a mournful noise fell out from behind the golden hands, more tears falling down your cheek at the mention of your elder sisters. Criston sheathed his cock, grunting at the immediate feeling of velvet walls and hot slick. He gripped your chin, dark eyes peering at your tears. The man dropped your face, lips turned downward in annoyance.

He began to fuck you in earnest, hips clapping against your ass. Criston hissed, “You’re always crying, if it wasn’t so pretty I’d ask if you get tired of it, Lady Tarly.” You moaned softly, scrunching your eyes shut. He made your head spin— desire and disgust always at war.

Criston began to wind your bouncing braid around his hand. The Lord Commander growled as you cried out, “Hush— keep the damn chain in your mouth.” You miserably nodded, whimpering as his prick dragged against your sensitive walls. Criston groaned, fingers digging into your waist, hand tugging at your braid as he drove himself into you with abandon.

The sound of your wet cunt squelching around his cock could make you sick. He loved it, purring, “Hear how needy you are for me? You can’t deny it, your slut cunny sops for my cock.” You sobbed in frustration, heaving under him, pressing your forehead to the cold desk.

Criston panted against the back of your neck, biting once again, lapping afterward in a rare act of kindness. He nosed down your shoulder, leaving sore marks. Occasionally it felt like he left a kiss— but he’d never do that. Ser Cole told you he wasn’t going to be some soft-hearted lover, you were a body for him.

His hips stuttered as his gloved fingers felt around your mouth, feeling your swollen lips and wet chin. Criston groaned something unintelligible, digging his sharp hips into your giving flesh. His breath quickened, feeling your pussy pull and squeeze at his cock.

You whined and shivered again, his cock rubbing your walls, building hot friction. So good. Filled you perfectly. It made you want to heave. More pathetic noises fell from your lips as he got back to driving into your slippery cunt. Criston huffed, “Needy little whore loves my prick huh? Alan would be disgusted if he found out.”

You sobbed softly between helpless cries, Criston fucking you deep and rough. He panted in your ear, the hand in your hair dropping, shoving under your dress. His fingers slipped through the mess of your folds— slick with your juices and Criston’s copious leaking.

It was foreign and strange, the man had never put anything but his cock between your legs. He remained suspiciously quiet, leather-clad digits rubbing the neglected nub that made you whimper and shake down to your thighs. Criston laughed as you trembled and sniveled, drooling more.

“Am I the only one to have touched your pearl? Gods, ruined you all by myself. No one will marry you. No one wants a used and stained lady from a disgraced house. Shitty excuse for a marcher house, suckling the Tyrell’s teat,” he seethed, spittle flying from his clenched teeth.

You sucked in a heavy breath, deeply upset yet unable to think with the way he was pulling and thumbing your sensitive little nub. Criston moaned, dark hair tickling your cheek, “Fuck, keep squeezing me like that.” His nose brushed your skin, mouth dangerously close to your own.

You began to feel the sparks of a peak building fast in your lower belly. He was much too warm, too close, fingers too insistent. Crying out sharply, bucking under Criston, you sobbed in overstimulation. The knight only moved faster, hissing for you to shut up.

You garbled out a weak ‘no’, Criston laughing as he dug his cock deep inside of you, bumping against your cervix. The man had to hold you down, grinning in excitement as you whimpered and cried, the orgasm shoved through a wall of pain-pleasure. He gasped hotly against your wet cheeks. Another noise drew deep from his chest, almost pained.

Your cunt fluttered as you gushed around his cock, sight going fuzzy as you sobbed through the forced orgasm. Criston moaned in ecstasy, his hand dug so hard into your waist it would bruise. His legs trembled against yours, the knight drawing out with a low whine.

He didn’t stain your dress for once. You slumped against the desk— ashamed and disgusted. Your chest felt hollow, your stomach a pit of swirling emotions. Criston threw something to the side as he panted. He took the chain from your teeth, chuckling in amusement. Your jaw ached as you worked it, wiping your wet chin, stomach twisting further in knots.

The Lord Commander had tucked himself in and strolled to the grand chair across the desk. He sat down, eyes on you, frustratingly imperceptible emotion in the dark orbs. Pushing yourself up, you wiped the wet spot from your drool and tears with your dress. You knew you looked a mess and felt like one.

You gave him obeisance, hoping to leave quickly and lick your wounds, “L-Lord Commander.”

Criston absently shined his chain, a strange look upon his face. He grumbled, “No, you stay Tarly.” Your confusion was evident as he huffed, face twisting in annoyance. The knight snapped, “Get over here and stop sobbing…it is…grating.”

He was in one of those odd moods. You came around his desk, praying he wouldn’t make your sore jaw work again by warming his soft cock with your mouth. Criston wouldn’t make eye contact, absently staring at his chain while his gloved hand patted his lap.

You had no other choice but to obey, holding your sobs in with shuddery breath. Criston snatched you onto his thighs, your body facing his. He wouldn’t look at you, lips curled downward, face heated. You gingerly laid against him, closing your eyes and pretending it was a lover’s embrace. He smelled too familiar for the fantasy to work.

He stiffened when your arms wrapped around his neck, head pressed into his warm neck. Criston returned to shining his chain, arms on either side of you. His breathing was deep and rhythmic, yet his heart thudded rapidly. You were angry at yourself, livid, but the soft touch he allowed was pleasing.

Of course it felt pleasing— you ached for kind gestures, starved for love. Criston murmured, “You felt good…you are good.” You felt his head tilting to nuzzle your own. The Lord Commander sighed, one of his hands dropping to rub your trembling back. He seemed on edge, left leg tapping.

“You make me so…so,” the knight paused, “Nevermind, just be quiet and still.”

⋆---–---⋆ ⋆ ---––——––------––——––--- ⋆ ⋆ ---–--- ⋆

It was a shame you were a traitor by family. Criston’s mind warped between obsession and revulsion. He wanted to choke the life out of your pretty neck. He never did. That would mean being alone. The Lord Commander couldn’t stand to be alone and you were the sweetest thing, even back in the day visiting Horn Hill.

He felt your tears as he pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head. Maybe one day you’d see him and smile.

[samandcolbyownme]

Change of plans as a full fic

change of plans as a full fic

Change of plans as a full fic

Based on this snippet

Warnings: SMUT18+, role playing, hints at teacher x student role play, kissing, hair pulling, oral (both rec), biting, scratching, ass smacking/spanking, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie, general filth, (I had to come back after writing and add a few more warnings because it got a little more dirtier than I originally intended, enjoy!)

Word Count: 2.3k | unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

You stood in the bathroom, making sure the costume you bought on a whim, was perfect.

Your fingers shake as you fiddle with the clip of the suspenders, your eyes locked on the waist band of your short skirt.

You were silently mustering up enough courage to just do it. Even though you know for a fact Sam will absolutely love it, there’s just a part of you that’s just always anxious and a teeny bit self conscious, but that’s normal.

This time, you were using it to try and get out of going to dinner with friends. You both had a busy week and you know he needs you like you need him.

“Babe.” Sam yells from out in the bedroom, “We gotta leave in ten.”

“Okay, baby.” You return from behind the closed bathroom door. You knew the school girl aesthetic was a fantasy of Sam’s, you talked about it while doing a truth or drink episode, but behind the scenes, ya know.

You applied the second layer of your red lipstick and pressed them together as you leaned back. You pull up your white fishnet thigh high tights as you let out a slow sigh, “Okay.”

Reaching down with a shaky hand, you pull the door open and walk out. You stop right before you round the corner, “Sam.” You whine, “Do we have to go?”

You hear Sam chuckle from in the bedroom still, “I’m afraid so baby. Im so-“

His words stop as you round the corner and his jaw drops. Yours also drops in return, mainly to the all white outfit he had on.

He was glowing. You tilt your head, “Think this is enough to make you want to stay home?” Sam’s eyes continuously rake up and down your body, “Uh huh.”

You walk over to him, placing your hands on his shoulders as you sit him down to straddle his lap

His hands rest on your waist before gliding his hand up each suspender to your chin, “Such a naughty girl.”

You nod, whimpering out as your hands drag down over his shoulders, “Mhm.” He leans back, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone.

“What are you doing?” You ask glancing from the phone in his hand to his face and he looks at you as he places the phone to his ear.

A smirk rest on his lips as he presses down onto the back of your waist and you bite your lip. You slowly start to grind down onto him as he answer the phone, “Yo, Colby. Listen man..” Sam pauses and shifts his hips forward, eyes still on yours, “Y/n is sick, like it’s.. just bad.”

You lay a hand on your mouth to stifle your laughter and Sam sighs, “So yeah.” He lays back and bucks his hips for you to continue grinding down on him, “We won’t be there tonight… No I know.”

Sam closes his eyes, biting down on his lip, trying to keep his composure as you grind harder, “It.. sucks. Y/n was looking forward to going, too. I just feel for her you know?”

You move back slightly, undoing his pants slowly and he bites down on his lip, “Yeah. That would be nice, bro. Thanks.”

You’re just about to free Sam’s cock from his boxers when you feel a hand on your wrist. You look up and Sam pulls you back into his lap, “Not following rules, I see.”

You smile and shrug, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Mr. Golbach.”

Sam smirks, “Continuing to lie even after she was caught in the act.” He hums lowly and slips his hands under your skirt to show the rest of your ass, “Looks like you need a punishment.”

He rolls you over, laying you on your back and his lips find yours. You lean your head back slightly, “Wait.” You laugh slightly, “I thought I was gonna get to be on top?”

Sam gently presses a few kisses to your exposed chest area and looks up at you, “Change of plans, sweetheart.”

He rolls you over, kissing down your neck, “You’re not being much a good girl right now, yeah?”

You shake your head, smirking, “No I haven’t, Mr. Golbach.”

“I’ll let you pick what punishment you get, mainly because you just look so fucking sexy in this outfit.” His hand slides up your outer thigh, pushing up the plaid mini skirt.

“What are my options?” You bite down on your lip as you watch his hand slide up your torso to knead your one boob.

You let out a quiet moan, arching your back slightly, “Please.”

“Well, sweetheart. You can either, not cum until I say you can, or you can get spanked. Your choice.” Sam bites his lip as his eyes scan over your face, “I’ll get enjoyment out of both.”

You smirk, letting out a sigh, “Do you want me over your knee, Mr. Golbach?”

Your words kind of caught him off guard for a second.

He clears his throat, pushing himself to sit up, “Uh huh.”

You smile as you sit up, crawling down to him before you move to stand in front of him. He places his hands on your hips, guiding you to where he wants you, which is your body draped over his thigh.

“How many do you want?”

“How many do you think I deserve?” You glance over at him and he takes a deep breath, “Fuck.”

He lifts your skirt, “We’ll go until you can’t take it anymore.”

You take a deep breath, excitement runs down your spine as you feel his hand rub over your ass before lifting up and dropping it down with a hard smack.

You whimper, tensing up slightly as he rubs over the red forming skin, “Count ‘em out for me, baby.”

“One.” You say as you brace yourself, whimpering out as his hand meets your skin, “Two.”

“Doing so good for me.” Sam praises, “Taking them so well.”

He raises his hand, dropping it down on the other side and you moan, “Three.”

“F-four.”

“Five.”

“S-si-“ You gasp out at another sudden smack, “Seven, fuck.”

“Think we can go to ten?” Sam lean over, reaching over to lift your chin, “hmm?”

You nod your head, “Y-yes.” You turn your head, “I can take it, Mr. Golbach.” You smirk slightly, but your cocky attitude was ripped away when his hand met your ass once more.

“Ei-“ you take a deep breath, “Eight.”

“Can you?” He taunts as his thumb rubs over the sensitive skin.

“Y-yes.” You lift your head, nails digging into his covered thigh, “Yes.”

Another smack causes you to whine out, almost wanting to give up, “Nine.” You breathe out, “One more. Right, Mr. Golbach?”

Sam tilts his head, “Is that attitude I sense?” You laugh slightly, “Not at all.” He purses his lips, “Hmm. Okay.” He lifts his hand and drops it down, probably the hardest smack of all, and you cry out, “F-fuck, fuck. Ten.”

Sam lifts you up, pushing you back onto the bed. He crawls up, kissing any exposed skin until he meets your lips.

Your arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer, but he has other plans. He takes your arms from his body, pinning them down by your head, “Can’t watch you suck me off if you’re stickin’ to me like that.”

You smile and sit up as he moves to lay down on his back, arms propped up behind his head, “Go ahead.”

You bite your lip as you move up to your knees, moving closer to slide your hands up his thighs. You undo his belt, sliding your hand down over his bulge, which earns a buck from his hips, “Don’t tease. That’s not what I asked you to do.”

You nod, “Sorry, Mr. Golbach.”

You undo his white pants, pulling them down as he raises his hips. You throw them to the floor and slide your hands back up to peel away his boxers.

It’s almost like you’re seeing his cock for the very first time with the way your lips part.

His boxers meet his pants on the floor and you lean in, pushing your hair off your shoulders before your tongue runs up the underside of his cock.

“Shit.” Sam groans, “More, baby. I want my cock in that pretty little mouth.”

You kick your lips and give him what he wants. You lean forward, taking as much of his cock in as you can, which earns a slight gag from you.

“Fuck, fuck, that’s it.” Sam breathes out, his hand moving to lay on the back of your head, “Up and down..”

You start to bob your head, tongue swirling around, and Sam moans, “That’s it, baby. Just like- fuck. Just like that.”

Your hands find their place on your thighs, nails digging in as he pushes your head down, getting you to take him into your throat.

“That’s my girl, there we go.” Sam lifts your head, pulling you up so you’re straddling him, “Ride me.”

You reach down, pushing your panties aside before lifting up more. You reach down with your other hand holding him steady as you sink down.

His hands fly to your hips, a groan leaving his lips as you settle. Your hands press into his chest, moaning out as you slowly lift up and sink back down.

Sam lifts your skirt out of the way, holding it up with his thumbs as he resumes the grip on your waist, “Fuck, that’s it.” He looks up at you, “You’re so fucking hot.”

You smirk, brows furrowing as you pick up your pace, “Worth staying home for?”

Sam nods, “Fuck yes.”

He bucks his hips up, thrusting upward which gets you to fall forward. He slides his hand to your neck, pushing your body back up, “Uh-uh, I want to watch you cum.”

You moan at his words, your hand sliding to grip his wrist, “S-so close.” Your walls squeeze his cock as you moan louder, “Fuck, fuck, yes yes yes.”

You slam your hips down, eyes rolling back as you feel your orgasm roll into station. Sam guides you through your high before flipping over and sitting up.

He works at the buttons on his shirt, sliding it down his shoulders and you instantly reach out to drag your nails down his torso, “You’re so hot.”

He smirks as he falls forward, holding up his weight with his arm by your head, “Yeah?”

You nod, breathing out, “Yeah.” You gasp as his cock slips back into you, immediately moving into a rhythm.

“You feel so good.” Sam whispers as he presses his lips to yours. His lips attack yours, hungry for your tongue against his.

Your hands slide up, cupping his cheeks as you moan into his mouth. His hand slides up, cupping your neck, “You take me so fucking well. I love it.” His hand squeezes tighter and you whimper as your legs tighten around his waist.

“Where do you want me to cum, baby?” Sam kisses down your neck and you moan out, “Wherever you want, Mr. Golbach.”

He chuckles at your words, “Don’t tease me like that.”

“Who said I’m teasing.” You bite your lip, whimpering lowly as you squeeze his cock, “C-can I cum again?”

“Since you asked so nicely.” He pulls away, moving down to between your legs and immediately slipping two fingers into you as his lips wrap around your clit.

You gasp, back arching up off the bed as your hands move to tangle in his hair, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You look down, moaning out as you watch him work, “Y-yes.”

Sam’s fingers work you to your second orgasm, groaning as you squirt, “That’s it, baby. Fuck. I love when you do that.”

You come down from your high, breathing heavy as Sam crawls back up your body. His chin glistening as he looks down at you, “I’m coming inside of you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat and all you can do is nod.

His cock finds its way back inside and his thrusts are harsh. Moans, from both of you, are thrown around, growing louder the closer he gets, “Fuck, fuck.”

You whine, clinging to him as you feel his thrusts grow sloppy, slowly coming down as his cock starts to twitch.

You hold his face as you kiss him, feeling even closer to him now than you ever have before.

His lips never leave yours until he pulls out, flopping onto the bed next to you.

You stare up at the ceiling, pure bliss surrounding both of you.

“I think..” Sam chuckles slightly, “This was the best change of plans I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah?” You roll over and look at him with a smile. He nods, eyes moving down to your boobs, “Yeah..” he sits up, “You better get that off or else we’ll be here all night.”

“Is that a bad thing?” You tease as you sit up. Sam smirks, “I mean, no but-“

“Shower with me. That way..” you stand up and walk over to him, “..you can take it off of me.” Sam smirks, “I don’t want to rip this. I like this.”

You shrug, “I can get another one.”

And with that, the buttons to the super cropped shirt go flying and you’re pulled to the bathroom.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

This was highly requested so I hope it lives up to the standard. Let me know what you think, and as always thank you so much for reading! I love you tons! See you in the next one!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[ninii-winchester]

I'll send a request for Dean first and later I'll send it about Sam. Because I have had this for a while.

Dean basically raised Sam, and took care of Sammy, and I think about this idea of the reader taking care of Dean while is sick, showing that Dean deserves to be cared for and loved too.

Sorry if it's confusing English isn't my first language.

🍉

Tender Care

Pairing : Dean Winchester X reader

Word count : 1.1k

Warnings: none

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

The bunker was wrapped in a calm stillness, there was nothing to do. Sam, Dean and Y/n came back from a hunt the night before and there were no potential hunts either. Y/n was in the library, dusting off the dirt that had accumulated on the further shelves, when Dean entered the open space with a mug of coffee in his hand. He didn’t speak, just took a seat on one of the chairs and admired his girl quietly.

The quiet of the bunker was broken by the sound of a loud sneeze. Y/n turned to look at Dean as he muttered a little ‘excuse me’. She nodded before going back to her work. She shrugged it off as a result of the dust filling his nostrils. He didn’t think much of it either.

Until a few hours later, he was sneezing constantly and his head felt heavy. His eyes were burning. His body felt weak and he felt cold. He groaned as the realisation dawned upon him, he was sick. He hated being sick. He pushed the thought aside and went into the garage to work on his Baby. Not before informing Y/n.

Y/n was in the kitchen preparing lunch when Dean entered the kitchen. She noticed something was odd in the way he walked. His nose was little red and so were his eyes.

“I’ll be in the garage if you need me.” He informed her. She noticed the change in his voice too. It was hoarse. She placed both of her hands on her hips and she observed him closely.

“Dean Winchester.” Was all he said and Dean looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He hated when she went full mother hen on him. And he knew it was coming. She took a step closer to him and touched his forehead with the back of her hand. “You’re burning up and you want to play mechanic?” She reprimanded him like a child. “Bed. Now.” It wasn’t a request. It was an order. And he was no fool to defy her orders when it came to this. He knew she would drag his ass to bed and chain him to the bed if needed.

“Yes ma’am.” Truth is, he could barely stand. He just wanted to distract himself by tinkering with Baby. But he could feel his illness coming to hit him with full force. She guided him towards their room with careful steps and laid him on the bed. She helped him out his jeans, getting him more comfortable and covered him with a blanket as she felt him shiver slightly.

“I’ll you bring some soup.” Y/n said but he grabbed her hand, stopping her from leaving.

“Don’t go.” He whined like a child which brought a smile to her face. He was cute when he wasn’t being all grumpy and a badass hunter. But he’s her grumpy badass hunter.

“I won’t be gone long, De.” She cooed at him lovingly. “I’ll get you some medicine too. I’ll be back before you know it.” She promised and he nodded reluctantly.

True to her word, Y/n came back fairly quickly. She had a tray in her hands which consisted of a soup bowl, a glass of water and some painkillers for him.

He laid in bed, looking pale and tired. His face was flushed from the fever, and he occasionally shivered despite being wrapped in blankets. A pile of used tissues sat beside him, evidence of his persistent coughing and sneezing. His nose was red and stuffy, making it hard for him to breathe comfortably. He felt weak and achy, with a dull headache adding to their discomfort.

She set the tray on the nightstand before sitting on the bed beside him. She pushed his hair away from his head. “Cmon baby, I brought you food.” She caressed his cheek gently and he closed his eyes leaning into her touch. “Dean.” She urged him to sit up. He sat up slightly and she adjusted the pillow behind him so he could be comfortable. She grabbed the bowl from the tray, she took a spoonful of soup and blew on it before feeding him.

Dean didn’t want to admit it but he liked being pampered by her. Even if meant getting sick sometimes. He hated being sick. All his life he had to deal with his sickness on his own. Even when he was a child. He took care of Sammy even when he was sick. And when Sam got sick he did everything in his power to get him better. Sometimes he wished, someone would do the same for him.

And when Y/n came into his life, she always took care him. She cared for him in more ways than one. Whether it was patching him after hunts, making sure he ate and slept adequately and taking care of him when he was sick. Sometimes he felt he was taking advantage of her kindness, that he didn’t deserve to be treated with such gentleness but she always assured him she loved him and felt happy taking care of him.

After the bowl of empty she passed him the tablet and he downed it with water. She helped him lay back and tucked him in the blankets. She got up from the bed but his voice stopped her. “Where are you going?” She placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Nowhere.” She replied getting up from the bed and turning the lights off. She rounded the bed and got into bed, laying beside him. He immediately rested his head on her chest and she started massaging his head. “Feeling any better?” She asked scratching his head lightly. He just hummed in response. He becomes a baby when he’s sick.

“Man, I hate being sick.” He mumbled after a few seconds of silence. He snuggled closer to her.

“It’s okay baby. I’ll nurse you back to health.” She replied holding him.

“Can you wear the sexy nurse outfit while you do it?” He grinned against her chest and she shook her head with a chuckle.

“Feeling better already, I see.” She remarked noticing he’s back to his flirty self. “Go to sleep, Winchester.”

“Yes ma’am.”

When Dean woke up he felt much better. His head wasn’t hurting anymore and his fever has subsided. And Y/n was still by his side. “Hey how’re you feeling?”

“Much better. Thank you for taking care of me.” He said throwing his arm around her waist pulling her closer.

“I’m just glad you feel better.”

With a content sigh, he pulled her into a gentle embrace, and they held each other, feeling the warmth of their closeness, as they enjoyed the simple comfort of each other’s presence.

Tags:

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@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Stealing her Thunder (dp x dc)

Sam really hadn't meant for the night to derail so much. She hadn't even meant to be out tonight, this was all Paulina's fault.

"This is the worst senior trip ever," mumbled Paulina from where she was sitting with her back against the wall, next to Star and Sam. Despite having been essentially kidnapped, she looked just as beautiful and perfect and put-together as she had when she'd come down from her hotel room. Oh, how Sam hated her.

"Maybe if you hadn't snuck into a club while underaged-" Sam hissed to her.

Paulina's shimmering green eyes flashed. "Oh I'm sorry, Susie Nobody, why were you in the club, then?"

"Trying to prevent something like this, you dimwitted, spoiled little princess!"

Paulina's shiny lips opened again to say something equally as inane, and Sam was gearing up to retort when Star elbowed her friend.

"Guys, stop!" Star whisper-shouted. "This is not the time to flirt."

"We're not flirting!" Both girls exclaimed at the same time.

They immediately shut their mouth as they realized they had been much too loud but by then it was too late. With an ominous creak the door to their temporary holding cell was pushed open, and a blond woman walked in as if she owned the place.

"Now, now, girls," she said as she strode towards the three bound girl. "It's not very polite to make a ruckus in someone's home."

Sam couldn't help her snort. The woman raised an eyebrow and Sam smirked.

"That is one ugly ass home," she said as she made a show of looking around the bare cement floor, dirty walls and heavy metal door.

"As much as I hate to agree with Loserville over there, she's right" Paulina sneered, somehow the expression making her look just as attractive as she always was. "This is the ugliest place I've ever been held hostage."

"Maybe if you added a skylight or like, a few prints-" Star added kind-heartedly.

"Enough," the woman said, though her smile had vanished. "I don't have time for this."

Then in just a few strides, she was face to face with Sam. She raised a hand just in front of the girl's face and gave her a smirk as her long silver nails started to lengthen more and more under their eyes.

"That is some free edge," Star mumbled, as her eyes widened.

"I have this fun ability," the woman ignored the blond girl, "where my blood," she looked at her ever elongating nails, "lets me bestow gifts on people."

"Yeah," Sam dragged out as the weird silvery trails started approaching her face. "Not interested."

"I don't even ask much in exchange," the woman said, as she leaned towards the goth teen. "Just a little obedience."

Sam was now struggling in earnest, doing her best to lean back in the restrained space, only just avoiding the weird silver things. "Get away!"

"Get your hands off her, you bottle blond bitch-" she heard Paulina's voice spit out when there was a large boom and a portion of the wall blew open.

The woman was blown back, the silver nails retreating back into herself as she turned to face the newly made hole. And from the hole walked in a woman dressed in a yellow and black reinforced suit.

"Step away from the children, Looker," the new arrival said.

"Thunder," their kidnapper answered with a sneer and that was all that was said before the newly-dubbed-Thunder descended on the woman with a kick, that was evaded.

Not so easily evaded however, was Thunder's punch to the kidnapper's solar plexus that sent her crashing right into the metal door, and falling through the half-opened doorway.

The black-and-yellow-decked woman turned towards the bound teens, and kneeling next to Sam, she ripped apart the girls' restraints as if they were spider's web

"You girls ok?" she said, looking into Sam's eyes.

And here, for the first time in her life, Sam found herself tongue tied. Feeling her cheeks grow warm, she quickly looked down before opening and closing her mouth a few times, until finally-

"A-okay," Sam squeaked out before immediately wishing the ground would swallow her up. A-okay?? Could she be anymore lame?

But Thunder only chuckled and Sam chanced a look up to see the woman smiling at her, and her lips pulled up, feeling shyer than ever.

"We're fine," Paulina's sharp voice cut through, "no thanks to you." Sam turned to see her lips were pulled back in a sneer.

"Paulie, she literally just saved our lives," Star said as she rolled her eyes, while massaging her wrists.

"Yeah, why don't you try being a little grateful?" Sam bit out.

Paulina just sniffed as she crossed her arms and lifted her nose higher. "I'll show you grateful," she mumbled under her breath.

"Ugh," Sam let out. When she turned back towards the hero(?) was looking from Paulina to Sam with a weird little smile on her face.

"What?" Paulina barked, having obviously also noticed it.

"Nothing," Thunder said, the smile still in place, as she got to her feet. "I'm glad you girls are alright. I have to go, but the police should be here soon ok? Just stay in here and you'll be safe"

Sam nodded and she could hear the other two make noises of assent, though Paulina's sounded more like a scoff than anything else. Thunder then clapped her hands together and the wall opposite to them crumbled down. With one last wave, she was off.

Sam watched her go with wide eyes as she heard Paulina grumble.

"What a poser."

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Dead in the Water | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, Dean and the reader are dickish to each other

Word Count: 9338

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You were sitting inside of a diner across from Dean, munching on the last of your fries as he circled names in an obituary. Sam had gotten up to go to the bathroom, and you and Dean refused to speak to each other unless it was to start a petty fight. 

The pretty blonde waitress returned, leaning over the table and showing off her boobs. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked Dean. 

You looked over at him as he grinned around the pen he was chewing on.

You suppressed an eye roll, addressing Wendy. “Just the check, please.”

“Okay,” she smiled at you, glancing over at Dean once more. The waitress strutted away, and Dean dropped his head down before looking over at you. 

“You know, (Y/N), we are allowed to have fun once in a while.” He pointed at the waitress as she walked into the kitchen, “That's fun.”

“You can have fun when we find your dad.” 

Dean went to say something back to you, but Sam sat down and effectively cut the conversation short.

“Hey,” he said. “What’d I miss?”

“Just your brother trying to pick up our waitress,” you stated, glaring pointedly at Dean. 

“Can it, (Y/N).” He put the newspaper in front of Sam. “Take a look at this, I think I got one. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin.” He pointed to the obituary he had circled in the paper. “Last week Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water; nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago.”

“A funeral?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, it's weird, they buried an empty coffin. For, uh, closure, or whatever,” the older of the two shrugged.

“Closure? What closure? People don't just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them.”

Dean’s expression hardened. He squared his shoulders and leaned forward on his forearms on the table. “Something you want to say to me?”

You took a sip of your drink, eyes widening as you looked down and to the side of you, feeling pretty awkward. 

“The trail for Dad,” Sam started, “It's getting colder every day.”

Dean sighed. “Exactly. So what are we supposed to do?”

“I don't know. Something. Anything.”

“You know what? I'm sick of this attitude.” Dean’s tone was harsh as he spoke. “You don't think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?”

“Yeah, I know you do, it's just—”

Dean cut his younger brother off. “I'm the one that's been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there. Okay?”

Sam rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he did so. 

The waitress walked past again, effectively distracting Dean from his anger toward Sam. His gaze was focused right on her ass.

You snapped your fingers a mere inch in front of his face.

He jerked back, furrowing his eyebrows at you. “What was that for?!”

“For focusing on getting your dick wet instead of the task at hand,” you replied. 

Dean went to shoot something back at you, but Sam was quick to jump in. “Alright—” he directed his next question at Dean, “—Lake Manitoc, how far?”

***

You had been driving for what felt like forever. Lake Manitoc was, in fact, pretty far from the diner you had stopped at. In between playfully bickering with Sam about the cultural impact of 1995’s Clueless and fighting with Dean over the stupidest thing, you had been doodling in your journal to keep you occupied. You were focused on drawing the wendigo from your previous hunt to the most detailed extent your memory would allow. 

Most of your sketches were placed next to journal entries about the hunts you embarked on, or you wrote around them once you had finished your drawings. The drawings themselves were halfway decent, in your opinion. However, you always wished you would’ve been able to take art classes in your youth and had some semblance of normalcy. You did all your shading and drawing with black pens you’d purchased while hopping state to state. You found the process relaxing and helpful at getting your mind off the horrors of your day to day life. 

Your shading process was interrupted by the Impala’s roaring engine stalling to a low rumble in front of what had formerly been the drowning victim’s home. 

You got out of the car and headed up the painted green steps leading to the house. The wooden stair boards creaked beneath your boots as you walked. Dean knocked on the door of the house and was greeted by a man that looked to be about your age standing there.

“Will Carlton?” Dean questioned the young man.

“Yeah, that's right.”

“I'm Agent Ford,” the older Winchester started. “This is Agent Hamill—” he gestured to Sam, “Agent Fisher—” he gestured to you, “We're with the US Wildlife Service.” He held his fake badge up for Will to see. “Can we ask you a couple questions? Maybe see the spot where your sister went down?”

“Sure,” Will nodded. He led you and the boys down to the edge of the water. “She was about a hundred yards out.” He pointed at a spot far out into the lake. “That's where she got dragged down.”

“And you're sure she didn't just drown?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. She was a varsity swimmer,” Will answered. “She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub.”

The older man sitting on a bench on the wooden dock that jutted out into the lake grabbed your attention. The following interrogation was just background noise to you as you studied the man’s slumped over form. 

“So no splashing? No signs of distress?” Sam piped up.

“No, that's what I'm telling you.” Will was failing at keeping his aggravation at bay. You were sure he had already had a week full of questioning keeping the wound of his sister’s passing ripped wide open.

“Did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?”

“No. Again, she was really far out there.”

“You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?”

“No, never. Why? Why, what do you think's out there?”

“We'll let you know as soon as we do,” you heard Dean say. You sucked in a breath when Dean suddenly yanked on your arm to get you to follow him to the car.

“What was that for?” you hissed, ripping your arm out of his grip.

“You wanna stop creeping on the old man and focus on the case?”

“I wasn’t creeping on him,” you replied.

“Yeah? Well, then what were you doing?”

“Just... thinking,” you answered. 

“You can think when we’re not in the middle of talkin’ to a witness,” he told you.

“Are you that much of a control freak that I can’t think when I want to?” you asked incredulously. “Grow up.” 

Dean opened his mouth to say something back to you, but Sam cut him off in an attempt to stop a fight from happening in front of the Carltons. “Okay, so. Can’t talk to Mr. Carlton.“

“Okay...” you trailed off, “So our best bet is the police station, then.”

***

The sheriff, whose name you found out was Jake, walked out from behind the desk in the police station’s lobby as he addressed you and the boys. “Now, I’m sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?”

“You sure it's accidental?” Sam challenged. “Will Carlton saw something grab his sister.”

Jake led you and the Winchesters into his office. “Like what?” He motioned to the two chairs in front of his desk. "Here, sit, please.”

You took a seat in one of the chairs and Dean sat in the other. Sam leaned on the back of your chair as the sheriff continued to speak.

“There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake. There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person unless it was the Loch Ness Monster.”

“Yeah, Dean laughed, “Right.”

“Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still—” Jake sat down behind his cluttered desk, leaning forward on it on his forearms, “We dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there.”

“That's weird, though,” the older Winchester noted, “I mean, that's, that's the third missing body this year.”

“I know,” Jake started, “These are people from my town. These are people I care about.”

“I know,” Dean told him.

“Anyway,” the sheriff sighed, “All this...it won't be a problem much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Dean questioned.

“Well, the dam, of course,” Jake stated as if it were obvious.

“Of course, the dam. It's, uh,” Dean stuttered awkwardly, “it sprung a leak.”

You jumped in before Dean could make the situation worse. “No, it’s falling apart, remember? The feds won’t give them the money to fix it, so they opened the spillway,” you told him. 

“It’s good to see somebody does their research,” the sheriff commented. “As Federal Wildlife, you should already know that.”

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed.

A few quiet knocks on the door drew your attention behind you.

A pretty brunette walked into the office. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”

You and Dean stood up, facing the young woman.

“I can come back later,” she said, turning to leave.

Jake’s voice stopped her movements as he stood up as well. “Gentlemen— and lady— this is my daughter.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” the older Winchester smirked.

‘Is he seriously making his voice deeper?’

“I'm Dean.” He shook the woman’s hand. You fought the urge to scoff, given he couldn’t spare you a handshake when he’d met you.

“Andrea Barr,” she smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He was eyeing her up and down. 

‘He’s still fucking smiling.’

“They're from the Wildlife Service,” her father interjected. “About the lake.”

“Oh.”

A little boy with shaggy, copper-colored hair walked out from behind Andrea, his head down low.

“Oh, hey there,” Dean grinned at the boy. “What's your name?”

The child looked up at Dean with sad eyes before turning and walking out of the room without saying a word. Andrea looked at Dean apologetically before following who you assumed was her son out of the room.

“His name is Lucas,” Jake answered for the boy. 

You watched as Andrea gave Lucas a box of crayons and ran her hand over his hair. 

“Is he okay?” Sam asked.

“My grandson's been through a lot. We all have,” the older man admitted. He went and stood by the entrance to the office, turning to face you and the boys. “Well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know.” He led the three of you out of the office.

You thanked the sheriff.

Dean looked at the sheriff as he began to talk.“You know, now that you mentioned it—”

‘Oh, boy.’

He directed his attention toward Andrea, “—could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?”

“Lakefront Motel,” she told him. “Go around the corner. It's about two blocks south.”

“Two—” He feigned confusion. “Would you mind showing us?”

Andrea laughed. “You want me to walk you two blocks?”

“Not if it's any trouble,” Dean stated, his smile bright.

‘Is he for real?’

“I'm headed that way anyway,” she shrugged. She told her father she would be back to pick up Lucas at three and told Lucas that she would take him to the park before leaving with you and the boys. 

“Thanks again,” Sam nodded at Jake as he followed Andrea out of the station. 

You and Sam stayed a few paces back from Dean and Andrea as he attempted to charm the brunette. You and Sam both wanted the pavement to swallow you whole.

“So, cute kid,” you heard Dean tell her. 

“Thanks,” she replied.

‘Short, to the point, not taking any of his crap,’ you thought. ‘I like her.’

“Kids are the best, huh?” the older Winchester tried again.

Andrea glanced back at him over her shoulder, shaking her head with a smile on her face as she continued walking.

She stopped in front of a place that said “Lakefront Motel” in bold, white letters, contrasting with the red background the words were placed upon. “There it is. Like I said, two blocks.”

Sam thanked her.

She turned to address Dean. “Must be hard, with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” She walked away, calling back over her shoulder, “Enjoy your stay!”

You let the laugh you were trying to suppress burst out of your lips. “I like her!”

“‘Kids are the best'? You don't even like kids.” Sam was not missing the opportunity to rag on his brother. 

“I love kids!” his older brother argued. 

“Name three children that you even know,” Sam responded.

Dean paused to think for a moment but came up empty. You waved your hands at him in a shooing motion before walking toward the motel with Sam.

“I’m thinking!” he called after the two of you.

“Have fun going to get the car, Dean!” you called back to him as his younger brother chuckled.

“We seriously just walked two blocks and left the car at the police station all so Dean could try to hook up with the hot mom,” you sighed, shaking your head. 

You and the boys had gone to your separate motel rooms to unpack once Dean had grabbed your bags— well, his and Sam’s— making you go out to the Impala to get your own. 

Sam told you that he and Dean were going to take some time to unpack and the three of you would meet up again later. You were never one for unpacking your duffel bag on hunts since you would not be staying in one location for very long. Instead, you took the downtime you had been given to do some research.

You pulled your laptop along with a few other items out of your bag before flopping down onto the flimsy mattress and kicking your combat boots off. As you blew out a puff of air, you opened your laptop to The Lake Manitoc Tribune’s browser page. You scrolled through article after article on the drownings in the town. One article, in particular, caught your attention. The headline read “Local Man in Tragic Accident” with the story of a man named Christopher Barr written below. 

‘Christopher Barr... as in Andrea Barr?’

Your question was answered when you scrolled a little way down the page to see a picture of a soaking wet and traumatized Lucas wrapped in a towel. He was standing next to a policeman who you assumed was Lucas’s grandfather. 

You read the article in full detail. It told the story of how Lucas and his father were out swimming in the lake when Christopher was pulled beneath the surface of the water. Lucas was floating on a nearby wooden platform at the time of his father’s drowning. Two hours later, Lucas was rescued. 

‘That poor thing...’

You were no stranger to witnessing the death of a parent, so you knew how hard it must have been for Lucas. As far as you could tell from reading through loads of articles, Lucas was the only eyewitness to see whatever creature you were dealing with. This struck you as peculiar since there were so many accounts of other lake monster sightings, making you believe you were not dealing with something corporeal. 

You heard a knock on the door moments later, and you opened it to find Sam standing there. You invited him into your room, and the two of you sat at the small table by the window of the room to talk. 

“So,” he started, “we figured out what’s up with Lucas.”

“Yeah, I did too,” you responded. “That poor kid.”

“Yeah...” he trailed off, shaking his head. 

“Where’s Dean?”

“Back in our room. He’s still unpacking.”

“Jesus, how much shit does he carry around with him? He’s been unpacking for, like, forty-five minutes,” you scoffed.

“He’s slow,” Sam chuckled.

“Yeah, so I’ve gathered,” you retorted. 

You saw Sam’s eyes drift over to your bed where some of the contents of your duffel bag were scattered. He nodded at what you assumed was your open journal as he questioned, “You draw?”

“Yep,” you replied. 

“Can I see?”

“Sure,” you shrugged, leaning back in your chair to grab it off your bed. You opened it to some of your most recent drawings and let him flip through them. 

“Dude, these are really good,” he complimented you. 

You thanked him with a smile. “I did one of you the first week I met you.” You showed it to him.

“Thanks,” he grinned. “This is amazing.” He looked from the drawing back up to you. “But why’d you draw me?”

“Well, I draw people I find interesting,” you shrugged. "You and that freaky head of yours are interesting.”

“Who are the other people you drew?” He gestured to one of an older woman from a few months back. 

“Not a clue,” you answered. “Like I said, people I find interesting. Random people in bars, diners; pretty much anywhere.”

“That’s so cool,” he told you. Sam handed you the book back. 

“What about you?” you asked as you took it from him. “You have any fun hobbies? Hidden talents I should know about?”

“Not really,” he replied. “I mean, I like to read.”

“Lame,” you joked, leaning back in your chair with your arms crossed. “C’mon, there’s gotta be something more fun than that.”

“Well, I liked going to the gym at Stanford and going on runs.”

“Oh, so you’re a health nut,” you chuckled.

“I guess so, yeah,” Sam laughed. 

A moment passed before you spoke again. “You remind me so much of my brother.”

He turned his head to you. “Didn’t know you had one.”

You shrugged. “I, uh, don’t talk about him much. But yeah.”

“What was his name?”

“I always called him ‘Stevie’ or ‘Bubba,’ but his name was Steven.” You smiled fondly at his memory. “He was super smart. Greatest person I’ve ever known.”

Before you could continue, you were cut off by a knock on the door. 

“You girls done in there?” Dean called. 

“I guess we are now,” you remarked. 

Sam got up and let his brother into the room as you glanced at the clock on your bedside table that read “3:15.” 

“We should probably head over to the park now,” you told the boys.

“Park? Why?” Dean inquired.

“Andrea said she was bringing Lucas there at three. He’s the only eyewitness we got, so we should probably try to talk to him,” you informed him.

“Alright, let’s go.”

***

Conveniently enough for you and the Winchesters, there was only one park in Lake Manitoc since it was such a small town. You noticed Andrea sitting on a bench on the outskirts of the small field near the playground watching over her son. He was sat on the ground by another bench a little ways off from Andrea, using the bench as a table for him to color on. Lucas had crayons, paper, and what appeared to be green army men scattered on the bench. 

“Can we join you?” Sam asked Andrea once you three had walked up next to her bench. 

The brunette looked up at you three, smiling as she stated, “I'm here with my son.” 

“Oh,” the older Winchester started, “Mind if I say hi?” Without waiting for her answer, he went over to Lucas. 

Andrea addressed you and Sam as the two of you sat on the bench next to her. “Tell your friend this whole Jerry Maguire thing is not gonna work on me.”

“I don't think that's what this is about,” Sam told her.

You watched as Dean knelt next to the young boy while Andrea and Sam talked about Christopher’s drowning. Lucas paid Dean no mind, continuing to color as Dean played with the army men on the bench briefly. He spoke a little more before grabbing a piece of paper and sitting on the bench. Dean showed off whatever he had drawn to Lucas before putting the drawing down when Lucas was unresponsive and decided to say something else to the young boy. Moments later, the older Winchester walked back over to you, Andrea, and Sam. 

Andrea was saying something about how Lucas had not spoken since his father’s death as Dean reached your group. 

“Yeah, we heard. Sorry,” Sam told her. “What are the doctors saying?”

“That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress,” she explained. 

“That can't be easy. For either of you.”

“We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw...” she trailed off and shook her head. 

There was a short silence broken by Dean. “Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with.”

You noticed Lucas get up from his seat by the bench out of the corner of your eye and make his way over to your group with a piece of construction paper in hand.

“You know,” Andrea began, “he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish—” she was caught by surprise to see Lucas suddenly next to her. “Oh, hey, sweetheart.”

Lucas ignored his mom and looked up at Dean. He handed the man the picture. 

“Thanks,” Dean nodded, looking the drawing over. “Thanks, Lucas.”

You caught a glimpse of the paper, recognizing the house in it but unable to place where you had seen it. 

“We’ll see you around,” Sam told Andrea as you and the Winchesters turned away from the Barrs.

You studied Dean as he looked over the picture. In your mind, he was still a dick but had made the child feel comfortable enough to communicate by some means with him.

“What are you looking at?” Dean interrogated you gruffly, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

‘And he’s back to being a dick.’ 

***

You slept pretty well that night but woke up groggy in deep need of coffee. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and got up from your bed, moving over to your duffel bag. You grabbed a clean black shirt from your bag along with a pair of jeans and socks. You tucked the oversized shirt into your jeans and tugged on your combat boots. After finishing your morning routine, you headed out of the door. You figured it was late enough that the boys should be up, and knocked on the door to their room. Sam opened it a few seconds later. 

“I want coffee,” you stated dryly, feeling a bit like a zombie in your decaffeinated state. 

“Me too,” he answered. “You want anything, Dean?”

The older brother grunted in response from somewhere within the room.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

After grabbing the Impala’s keys, you and Sam headed over to the car.

“Is he always that cheery in the mornings?” you asked referring to Dean.

“Yeah, he’s a joy to be around when he first wakes up,” Sam responded sarcastically. The two of you got into the car and Sam began to drive away from the motel.

“Ooh, I saw a cute little coffee shop over that way.” You pointed out of the passenger’s side window. 

Sam followed your instructions, and soon the two of you were off for a drive in the neighborhood around the lake with coffees in hand. 

You straightened up in your seat when you saw an ambulance in front of the Carlton house. “Pull over.”

Sam did as told, and the two of you hopped out of the car. There were several other onlookers standing near the house. 

“What happened?” you asked one of the older women nearby.

“Oh, the young man who lived here, Will Carlton,” she began, putting a hand on her chest, “he died last night.”

“What?” Sam asked incredulously.

“The poor thing drowned.”

“How?” You gave the woman a quizzical look. 

“I don’t really understand it myself,” she laughed uncomfortably, “he drowned in the sink. His father didn’t find him till this morning.”

“What the hell?” you muttered under your breath. 

“Poor Bill,” the older woman sighed, looking at the house. “First his godson in May, then his daughter, and now Will.”

“His godson?” Sam questioned.

“Christopher Barr.”

You looked up at Sam, who looked down at you with a confused expression that mirrored your own.

You said your goodbyes to the older woman and headed back to the car. 

“This just gets weirder all the time,” Sam commented as he drove the two of you away from the scene. 

“At least now we know there’s a connection to Bill Carlton,” you reminded him.

“But what did he do to deserve this?”

“Hell if I know.” 

You and Sam filled Dean in on the situation as soon as you walked into the boys’ shared motel room.

“What the hell? So you're right,” Dean said, talking to Sam, “this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else.” 

“Yeah, but what?” you asked. 

“I don't know,” he told you in an annoyed tone as if you had asked a stupid question. “Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water...” he trailed off. He straightened up and his eyes grew wider as he came to a realization. “Water that comes from the same source.”

“The lake.” You were making the same connections he was.

“Yeah.”

“Which would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining. It'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time,” you added.

“And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere.” Dean got up from the bed as he spoke, his stress level seeming to rise slightly. “This is gonna happen again soon.” He sat down on one of the chairs at the table near the window. 

“And we do know one other thing for sure. We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton,” Sam mentioned. 

“Yeah, it took both his kids,” the older Winchester acknowledged.

“And this lady at the Carlton house said that Chris was Bill’s godson,” you explained. 

Dean looked up at you and Sam. “Let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit.”

***

Your attempted questioning of Mr. Carlton had gone unsuccessfully. 

“My children are gone. It's...it's worse than dying. Go away. Please,” the older man dismissed you. Through the duration of his visit, he refused to look up from the boards of the wooden dock. His posture had been slumped over, and his facial expression remained solemn. 

“We’re sorry,” you told him before you followed the boys back to the car. 

“What do you think?” Sam asked.

“Aw, I think the poor guy's been through hell,” Dean replied. “I also think he's not telling us something.”

“So now what?” the younger brother inquired, leaning on the roof of the car.

“Huh,” you let out, still facing Bill’s home.

“What?” Sam asked. 

“You got Lucas’s drawing on you by any chance?” you asked Dean. 

He looked at you questioningly but pulled it out of his jacket pocket nonetheless. 

You unfolded the paper and held it up next to the Carlton house. Lucas had drawn Bill’s house on the paper, which is why the drawing looked familiar to you. 

“Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something,” Dean commented. 

***

You and the boys were just inside the door of the Barr household, trying to get Andrea to let Dean talk to Lucas.

“I'm sorry,” Andrea expressed, “but I don't think it's a good idea.”

“I just need to talk to him. Just for a few minutes,” Dean pleaded.

“He won't say anything. What good's it gonna do?” 

“Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something's happening out there,” Sam explained. 

“My husband, the others, they just drowned. That's all.” 

You could tell Andrea did not really think that. 

“If that's what you really believe, then we'll go. But if you think there's even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let me talk to your son,” Dean tried one last time.

Andrea gave in, showing you and the boys down the hall to Lucas’s room. Your group found Lucas sitting on the floor surrounded by drawings and army men. He was coloring another picture. 

Dean walked into the room and crouched down beside the boy’s setup. “You know, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the thing is, I need your help again.”

You looked over at what Lucas was drawing. It was a person in the water. You quirked an eyebrow at it as Dean placed the picture of the Carlton house in front of Lucas.

“How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me,” Dean offered. 

Lucas ignored him.

“You're scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too.”

That seemingly touched something within Lucas, who dropped the crayon and looked up at the older Winchester. 

You heard Andrea suck in a breath as Lucas handed Dean a picture of a white church, a yellow two-story house, and a little boy with a red bicycle. 

“Thanks, Lucas,” Dean said quietly.

***

“Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died,” Dean brought up as he drove along the highway. The three of you were attempting to find the place Lucas had drawn. 

“There are cases—going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies,” Sam explained.

“Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please,” Dean remarked.

You leaned forward on your elbows on the back of the leather front seat. “All right, we got another house to find.” 

“The only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone,” Dean brought up, his tone once again implying what he thought you were suggesting was stupid.

Sam looked at the picture, which he held in his hand. “See this church? I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here.”

“Oh, College Boy thinks he's so smart,” the older brother mocked. 

“You know, um...” Sam started. “What you said about Mom...You never told me that before.”

“It's no big deal,” Dean shrugged. 

Sam looked at him with his signature puppy dog eyes expression.

“Oh God,” the older Winchester groaned. “We're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?” 

You and the boys walked up to the yellow house that matched the one in the drawing. The house just so happened to be across the street from a church just like Lucas had drawn. 

You were greeted at the door by a petite old woman. “Hello,” she smiled.

“Hi,” you grinned back. “I’m (Y/N), this is Sam and Dean—” you gestured between the two boys, “—we just have a question for you.”

“Come in, come in.” She was incredibly welcoming as she allowed you and the Winchesters into her home.

“We're sorry to bother you, ma'am,” Dean began, “but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle.”

The woman’s formerly cheery disposition suddenly shifted to solemn. “No sir. Not for a very long time.” She looked over at a picture of a smiling little boy on a table in the living room. “Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now.” She turned back to you and the boys. “The police never— I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared.” The woman’s voice wavered as she spoke.

Your eyebrows turned upwards out of sympathy for her. 

Sam nudged your elbow and pointed out toy soldiers sitting on one of the side tables. 

“Losing him—you know, it's...it's worse than dying.” The woman echoed Bill Carlton’s earlier statement. 

“Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?” the older Winchester question. 

“He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up,” the woman whimpered. 

Dean picked up a picture off of a mirror in the room. It was of two little boys in boy scout uniforms, one of them being Peter with his red bicycle. “Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy,” Dean read from the back of the photo. 

“We’re sorry for your loss,” Sam stated softly. “We’ll just be going now. Thank you for your time.” He and his brother turned to head out of the door.

The woman turned away, her sniffles tugging on your heartstrings as you went to follow the boys. 

“Mrs. Sweeney?” 

She turned to you, as did the boys, who watched from the door. 

“Can I give you a hug?”

She seemed surprised by your question but accepted your offer nonetheless. As soon as you wrapped your arms around her, she broke down into sobs.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered to her. 

She nodded into your shoulder as a response. 

After another moment, you released her and rubbed up and down her arms. “It’ll be okay.”

She nodded once more. 

You and the boys showed yourselves out. None of you said a word until about halfway through the drive.

Sam was the one to break the silence. “Okay, this little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow.”

“Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?” Dean mentioned.

“And Bill, the people he loves, they're all getting punished.”

“So what if Bill did something to Peter?”

“What if Bill killed him?”

“Peter's spirit would be furious. It'd want revenge. It's possible.” Dean’s eyes flickered to yours in the rearview mirror. “This is probably the quietest I’ve heard you since I met you, (Y/N). Wanna share what you’re thinkin’ about with the class?”

“Like you give a shit,” you grumbled back.

“I was trying to, but fine, keep being a bitch.”

You could not believe Dean. “What, you treat me like I’m stupid, act like a dick to me for weeks, and suddenly I’m supposed to believe you’re genuinely concerned?” 

“Forget I asked.”

The Impala pulled in front of the Carlton house, and to your surprise, you had not seen Bill sitting on the dock. You and the Winchesters got out of the car, calling out to Mr. Carlton.

You wheeled around when you heard the roar of what sounded like a boat engine. 

“Guys?” you called to the boys behind you when you saw Bill driving his boat out into the lake. 

You immediately broke out into a sprint, yelling for the man to turn his boat around. 

Bill turned his head to look at you three standing at the edge of the dock but continued driving out. As soon as he turned his head back around, the water beneath the boat sprang up as if a bomb had been blown up beneath the surface. Bill’s boat flipped over into the water, and neither Bill nor the boat ever resurfaced.

You and the boys called Jake to the scene of Bill Carlton’s disappearance. Neighbors gathered around the lake, looking for signs of Bill, the boat, or whatever had taken him down. After Jake found nothing and questioned the neighbors who witnessed what had happened, he asked you and the Winchesters to head back to the station with him. 

Once inside the station, you spotted Andrea and Lucas sitting behind the desk in the police station’s lobby. 

When the young woman saw you, she bounced up and put the bag that was in her hands on the seat behind her. “Sam, Dean, (Y/N), I didn’t expect to see you here. 

Jake looked between your group and Andrea. “So now you're on a first-name basis,” he scoffed. “What are you doing here?” He directed the question to his daughter.

“I brought you dinner,” she explained. 

“I'm sorry, sweetheart, I don't really have the time.” He shook his head and moved past her to head into his office, you and the boys hot on his tail.

The sound of Andrea’s voice made all four of you stop and turn around. “I heard about Bill Carlton. Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?”

“Right now we don't know what the truth is,” Jake relayed. “But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home.”

As soon as the older man mentioned Lucas going home, the little boy jumped up with a panicked look on his face. He whined and tugged on Dean’s arm as Andrea and Jake tried to comfort him. 

Andrea managed to get her son off of Dean and pull him out of the office. You watched the pair as they left, and noticed Lucas’s eyes never left Dean.

The sheriff threw his jacket onto a chair and scrubbed a hand through his hair as he walked into the office.

You looked at Sam and the two of you supposed you were to follow Jake.

You sat in one chair, Dean sat in the other, and Sam leaned on the back of your chair just as had happened before. 

The older man leaned on the front of his desk in front of your trio. “Okay, just so I'm clear, you see,” Jake trailed off, recovering a moment later, “something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill—who is a very good swimmer, by the way—into the drink, and you never see him again?”

“Yep, that about sums it up,” you replied.

“And I'm supposed to believe this, even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you're describing is impossible? And you're not really Wildlife Service?” Jake casually mentioned.

You managed to keep a poker face on, but apparently, Dean gave you away.

“That's right, I checked. Department's never heard of you three.”

“See, now, we can explain that—” Dean started, but was immediately cut off by the officer. 

“Enough. Please. The only reason you're breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. Or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again.” Jake jutted his finger in your face as he spoke, his tone harsh.

“Door number two is... rather appealing.” You were trying to keep up your plucky attitude despite your circumstances.

“That's the one I'd pick,” he said sharply. 

***

You had your head against the window, legs tossed to the side of you as the hum of the Impala’s engine was slowly lulling you to sleep.

Sam’s voice pulled you out of your haze. “Green.”

“What?” Dean asked. Apparently, he had been in a daze, too.

‘Not good considering this asshole’s the one driving.’

“Light's green,” Sam elaborated. 

Dean turned right.

“Uh, the interstate's the other way,” you yawned.

“I know.”

“Oh-kay—” you dragged out the word, “—so why are you heading back to Lake Manitoc?”

“Cause I think we still got more work to do,” he responded.

“But Dean, this job, I think it’s over,” Sam interjected.

“I'm not so sure,” Dean replied shortly. 

Sam gave his brother more pushback. “If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest.”

“All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?” Dean argued.

“But why would you think that?” 

“Because Lucas was really scared.”

‘Can’t argue with him there.’

The younger Winchester was caught by surprise. “That's what this is about?” 

“I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay.” Dean tried to play off his concern nonchalantly, but you could see right through the act.

‘Aw, he does have a heart.’

“Y’know, I’m actually with Dean on this one,” you declared. 

Dean quirked a brow at you in the rearview mirror, but you simply shrugged at him.

“Who are you two? And what have you done with my brother and (Y/N)?” Sam quipped sarcastically, glancing between you and his brother with a confused expression.

There was a slight pause before both you and Dean said in unison, “Shut up.”

***

“Are you sure about this?” Sam looked around as you and the Winchesters stood on the front porch of the Barr house. “It's pretty late, man.”

Dean ignored him, ringing the doorbell. Immediately it opened to reveal a panicked Lucas.

“Lucas? Lucas!” Dean called after the boy as he took off into the house. 

You followed behind Dean as all four of you sprinted through the house. You heard a splash beneath your feet and realized water was pouring down the stairs in front of you. Lucas started to pound on the door that led to where the water was coming from, which you assumed was a bathroom. 

Dean pulled Lucas out of the way just before you gave a powerful kick to the door, effectively knocking it in. 

Inside the bathroom, the tub was filled to the brim with murky, brown water. You jumped out of the way to let Sam try to pull Andrea out of there, knowing he would be a better fit for the job than you were. 

Sam eventually managed to pull her out of the bathtub. They landed with Sam on his back and Andrea on top of him, sobbing and coughing up water. You immediately offered the woman a towel you had found and wrapped her in it.

Lucas threw Dean off of him and immediately wrapped his arms around his mom. 

Happy to see that she was okay, you and the boys let Andrea have some privacy to get dressed. After she had done that, she and Sam went into the living room to talk while you and Dean looked for a connection to Peter Sweeney. 

You found a bookshelf full of photo albums and began giving the labels a quick once-over. You found one with “Jake— 12 years old” scrawled across the white label of the brown cover. You flipped to a page with pictures of the same Boy Scout troop that Peter Sweeney seemed to have been in from that picture you saw at the Sweeney house. You shut the book on your finger, holding your spot in the photo album.

“Whatcha got?�� Dean asked.

“You’ll see.” You walked past him back into the living room. You opened the photo album to the page your finger was tabbing, putting the book in front of Andrea on the coffee table. “You recognize the kids in these pictures?”

She seemed caught off-guard, and you felt bad for potentially startling her after the night she had had. 

“What? Um, no.” She took a pause. “I mean, except that's my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures.” The brunette dragged her finger across the page gesturing to her dad as a young boy. Jake was standing next to who you recognized as Peter Sweeney in several of the pictures.

“Chris Barr's drowning,” Dean spoke up. “The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the sheriff.”

“Bill and the sheriff,” the younger man corrected his brother, “they were both involved with Peter.”

“What about Chris? My dad—what are you talking about?” Andrea was looking at the three of you like you were crazy.

“Lucas?” Dean’s voice brought your attention to the little boy staring out of the window. “Lucas, what is it?”

Lucas kept his gaze focused outside as he walked out of the door. Andrea continued to call after Lucas as you all followed him outside. Lucas stopped and looked at the ground and then up at the older Winchester, who stood beside him.

Dean faced Andrea. “You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?”

Andrea did as told, pulling her son away from your trio. 

You turned to the brothers. “You guys still have those shovels in the trunk?” 

“Keep workin’ hard over there, sweetheart,” Dean deadpanned. 

You pushed yourself off of the tree you were leaning against. “Dude, you only had two shovels and you were too busy trying to be macho and digging whatever’s down there up yourself to let me use one of them,” you protested. “So don’t tell me shit about ‘working hard.’ But by all means—” you then started to use a mocking baby voice, “—if Dean is getting a wittle too sweaty, I’d be happy to take his pwace.”

“Nope. I got it.”

You loved using his stubbornness against him. “So hush your mouth.”

He glared back at you and plunged his shovel back into the dirt when the metal part of the shovel hit another piece of metal. You and Dean both looked down at what laid beneath the ground and you helped the boys pull the object out of the dirt. 

“Peter’s bike,” Sam remarked.

You heard a gun cock behind your head before feeling the barrel pressed squarely on the back of it. “Who are you?” 

‘Jake.’

The boys slowly turned around.

“Put the gun down, Jake,” Sam pleaded. 

Both he and Dean dropped their shovels. 

“How did you know that was there?” The sheriff demanded.

The older Winchester did not answer his question. “What happened? You and Bill killed Peter, drowned him in the lake, and then buried the bike? You can't bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried.”

“I don't know what the hell you're talking about.” The sheriff’s lie was not even in the ballpark of convincing.

“You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago. That's what the hell I'm talking about.”

“Dad!” Andrea yelled, running up to the altercation.

“And now you got one seriously pissed-off spirit,” Dean continued, keeping his eyes trained on Jake. 

“Peter’s gonna get everyone you love— Lucas, Andrea— and drag their bodies god knows where, so you can feel the same pain Peter’s mom felt. And then it’s gonna take you. It won’t stop until it does,” you informed him, trying to keep your voice even despite the cold chill running down your spine emanating from the spot where the gun met your head. 

Jake pressed the gun further into your skull. “Yeah, and how do you know that?”

“Because that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton,” you told the older man.

“Listen to yourselves, all of you. You're insane!” he chided. 

Dean scoffed. “I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us. But if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust. Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake.” 

“Dad, is any of this true?” Andrea interrupted, her voice shaking.

“No,” her father lied. “Don't listen to them. They're liars and they're dangerous.”

The brunette wasn’t having it. “Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me.”

A pause followed.

“Tell me you—you didn't kill anyone,” Andrea pleaded.

No response came once again. You felt the gun behind your head drop away. You rushed over to Sam and Dean, your adrenaline still keeping your breath in a vice grip. You could see the guilt beginning to overtake Jake’s features. 

“Oh my God,” Andrea breathed.

“Billy and I were at the lake,” Jake started to explain. “Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank.” 

‘Great,’ you thought. ‘Makes our job so much easier.’

Jake’s focus remained on his daughter. “Oh, Andrea, we were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake. But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost? It's not rational.”

Dean was done with Jake’s skeptical attitude. “All right, listen to me, all of you. We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, right now.”

Andrea turned her head and immediately cried, “Lucas!”

You turned your head in the direction she was looking to see the little boy leaning over the side of the lake reaching for something.

You took off, following close behind Jake as you ran. You spotted Lucas get pulled into the water by something, causing you to cry out his name. You ran off the solid ground onto the dock, leaping into the water once you reached the edge of the platform. You pulled yourself deep into the lake, trying your best to make out the shape of Lucas or the spirit of Peter. You went back up to the surface, taking in a deep breath. You looked over to Andrea on the dock, and she stared back at you with a panicked expression. You shook your head, diving back below the surface.

While you did not see Lucas, you did see a boy with skin pale gray and tattered clothing rising to the surface a mere few feet from you. You flinched back, the appearance of Peter’s spirit catching you off-guard. It grabbed Jake, who you just noticed had gone into the water and began pulling him under. You sprang into action, swimming as fast as you could over to where Jake was being pulled down. You reached your hand down, trying to grab him, but. it was too late. You were running out of air, and because the water below was getting blacker as you went deeper, you could not see Jake anymore.

You clawed your way back to the surface, gasping for air when you came up. Andrea looked at you frantically, and you shook your head once more. She screamed “No!” just before splashing coming from behind you on the right caught your attention. You looked behind you to see Dean holding an unconscious Lucas to his chest. The poor little boy’s head was lying on Dean’s shoulder limply, and you and Sam swam to help him. Sam took Lucas ashore, and you checked him over to see if he would need CPR. Once you determined that he would, you immediately set to work. You were able to revive him with two cycles of rescue breaths and chest compressions. He immediately coughed up water as air filled his lungs once more. You got out of Andrea’s way and let her hug her son. 

The scene before you— Andrea on her knees, crying and hugging her rescued son— was the reason why you did what you did. Seeing families reunited and given a temporary happy ending was what made you love hunting, despite how gruesome the job could get at times. You figured that even though your life was so screwed to hell, at least you could save the lives of others.

Once you and the boys had changed clothes, dried off, and packed up, you began loading your stuff into the car. Dean clearly had something on his mind, and you were not the only one to notice.

“Look, we're not gonna save everybody,” Sam reminded his brother, having figured out what Dean was mulling over.

“I know." His voice was distant. 

“Sam, Dean, (Y/N),” you heard Andrea call. 

You looked up to see the young woman walking toward you with Lucas, who carried a tray of food wrapped in cellophane.

You all walked toward each other, stopping once you had met in the middle. 

“We're glad we caught you. We just, um, we made you lunch for the road,” Andrea smiled. “Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself.”

“Can I give it to them now?” Lucas asked his mom.

The sound of his voice made you smile. 

“Of course.” The young woman kissed her son’s head. 

“Come on, Lucas, let's load this into the car.” Dean led Lucas over to the car, and you stayed with Sam to talk to Andrea.

“How you holding up?” the younger brother asked her.

“It's just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?”

“Andrea, I'm sorry,” Sam sighed.

Andrea shook her head. “You saved my son. I can't ask for more than that. Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold on to that.”

You heard Dean talking to Lucas from behind you, and you turned around to face them as Dean spoke. “All right, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase, so I want you to repeat it one more time.”

“Zeppelin rules!” the boy cheered.

Dean cracked a genuine grin. “That's right. Up high.”

The two boys high-fived as you, Sam, and Andrea began walking over to them.

“You take care of your mom, okay?” Dean told Lucas.

“All right.”

Andrea leaned over the open door of the Impala that Dean stood behind and pressed her lips to his.

“Thank you,” she said to him.

You rolled your eyes, pissed at him for his ability to pick up whoever he wanted. 

He scratched his head, walking around to the other side of the car. “Sam, (Y/N), move your asses. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road.”

You got into the seat behind Dean, waving to Andrea and Lucas who were waving back at you as Dean backed the Impala out of its parking spot.

Once you were on the road, you spoke up over the music. “Y’know, I’m not dissin’ on Zeppelin because I love them, but there were so many other amazing bands that ‘rule’ that you could’ve told Lucas about.”

Dean groaned. “Really? You’re picking a fight with me about that?”

“I’m not picking a fight, I’m giving my honest opinion,” you replied.

“Okay, well, who would you ‘ve told Lucas about?” he questioned.

“Um, how ‘bout Fleetwood Mac, Metallica, Guns ‘n’ Roses, Blondie, Black Sabbath, need I go on?”

“I cannot believe you just said Fleetwood Mac is better than Zeppelin,” he stated incredulously.

“It’s fucking Stevie Nicks, dude, of course Fleetwood’s better than Zeppelin,” you argued. “She’s a goddess.”

Dean turned left onto the Interstate, picking up the Impala’s speed. “Robert Plant’s better.”

“Yeah, no,” you responded dryly. 

Instead of responding verbally, Dean put one of his Led Zeppelin tapes into the cassette player and cranked the volume up. “What’d you say? Can’t hear you over the greatest band of all time!”

For the first time since you met him, you genuinely laughed at him. “You are such an idiot!” 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireaderr @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylorr @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel

[impala-dreamer]

Temptation & Consequences

A Short Story

~Jensen has been busy all weekend at the convention, leaving little time for fun with his girl. Luckily, Y/N knows how to get his attention... and more...~

Jensen Ackles x F!Reader

2,176 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Dom!Jensen, sub!Bratty!Reader, Hair Pulling, Spanking, Kinda rough(ish) sex, Delicious.

A/N: Another block off my @jacklesversebingo board. The prompt was "temptation". Also written for Kym who wanted some hair pulling. Hope you all enjoy!

JacklesBingo Masterlist

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

His phone buzzed.

He couldn’t hear it, but he felt it vibrating in the front left pocket of his tight jeans.

Ignoring the alert, Jensen stepped up to the mic stand and reached for it, tipping it up slightly so that it was aimed at his lips. He smiled and the crowd swooned. That was all it took- just a flash of a grin and a sweep of green eyes and the whole room fell to its knees. It was too much power, and inevitably fleeting, but he loved it just the same.

Another alert shook against his thigh and Jensen’s attention was pulled away from the purple-haired teen who was timidly inching closer to asking her actual question. He knew who was texting and it was all he could do not to sneak a peek at his screen.

“...And yeah, so I just wanted to say thank you. My mom and I really love Supernatural.”

Jensen smiled and nodded in thanks. “Your mom?”

The girl blushed. “Yeah. She made me watch.”

The cell buzzed again.

Jensen pursed his lips and narrowed his gaze at the girl. “Your mom,” he said again, making the front row snigger. He raised a brow and acted offended. “How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

He sighed heavily and rubbed a hand across his forehead. “I am so old…”

The crowd laughed and the girl hid her face.

“I’m sorry!”

Jensen shook his head. “Fourteen,” he echoed. “Sheesh. Who’s your favorite Winchester?”

The girl chewed her lip and bashfully leaned into the microphone.

“Well?” Jensen grew comically annoyed.

She cleared her throat. “Sam.”

With great flare, Jensen tossed his hands up into the air and spun away.

As the audience enjoyed the theatrics, Jensen’s pocket vibrated twice and he gave in, dragging it free from his jeans. While the room was distracted, he checked the messages and his pulse raced.

‘You look so fucking hot today, J.’

‘that shirt is killing me. The buttons… your huge arms…’

Jensen looked up at the crowd, his cheeks beginning to burn.

‘Need your big cock in my mouth’

‘Or right here…’

He scrolled down to the last message and was met with a close up of Y/N’s bare tits. Her nipples were hard, her skin creamy and begging to be touched.

With a thick swallow, Jensen closed the messages and stuffed the phone back into his pocket.

“This is why I don’t do panels alone!” he joked, swinging back toward the mic.

Fans came and went, questions flew around his head. There was nothing that he hadn’t been asked before and he was able to phone it in well, all the while thinking about his own phone. Two more texts came through but he refused to look at them, knowing Y/N was just upping the ante by teasing him some more.

“Who would win in a fight, Soldier Boy or Dean?”

Jensen laughed at the question as if he’d never heard it before. He had.

Another buzz.

He scratched a hand down his cheek and grabbed his phone, looking quickly before jamming it into his back pocket.

‘Hurry. Im starting without you’

A photo of her fingers against her thighs, tips poised and ready to dip into the sweet honey between.

He hissed a breath in and then let it out slowly, pretending to ponder the question. Finally:

“Well, obviously Soldier Boy is a supe, so he’s stronger…”

The crowd was divided, half cheering, half booing. Jensen held up his hands and called for patience.

“That being said,” he growled into the mic, “Dean is a genius and he’s always got a plan. I think he could kick a little ass before goin’ down, don’t you?”

Half a smile from his plump lips pulled the audience back together and everyone, no matter which character they favored, cheered and had Jensen’s back.

He always won them over.

The final message came through and he glanced at the screen while the audience carried on. A photo of her wet fingers pulling at her juicy bottom lip greeted him. Her pink tongue was curled and ready to steal a taste and Jensen could all but hear her intoxicating moan.

He clenched his jaw, shoved the phone back in his pocket and slyly adjusted himself.

She was gonna get it.

He’d make sure of it.

Y/N was backstage when he stepped through the curtain. Phone in hand, she leaned against the wall, eyes heavily painted and staring as if he were the only thing she could see. She was dressed up for the convention, skirt short and boots tall.

Green eyes traipsed down her body, making her pulse quicken.

Jensen shook a few hands, chatted quickly with his assigned volunteer handler, and fake-smiled at everyone around him. He kept one eye on Y/N, glaring his disapproval and offering a stern warning.

She could run if she wanted to, but he knew she wouldn’t.

Pleasantries done, he pushed through the crowd and slowly walked towards her. She stood up straight as if pulled by puppet strings and bit her lip, scared but aglow with anticipation.

He dipped his chin and pointed at her with a solo finger, shooting an invisible bullet at the center of her. She shivered and he motioned quickly to the hallway.

Defiant, she stood frozen on the spot until his thick fingers curled around her upper arm and yanked.

Not a word was spoken.

Not until the door slammed behind him.

“You think you’re funny?” he asked, flicking on the light and illuminating the empty conference room. A long, highly polished table sat in the middle of the room, its chairs stacked against the blank back wall.

Jensen took a step toward her and Y/N countered, falling back a pace.

“Well?”

She swallowed hard and smiled. “I mean… I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

He sucked his teeth. “And what, exactly, were you trying to do?”

A tingle of fear soaked arousal ran down her spine and Y/N took another step backwards.

“Um… Just trying to… uh…”

“Get yourself in trouble?” he grit.

She shook her head teasingly slowly. “No…”

He loomed above her. “Get me hard on stage in front of everyone?”

She bit back a grin. “No?”

He lunged forward, grabbing a giant fistful of hair and tugging her around. She spun on the spot, guided by his firm grip, and held in a gasping cry.

“You wanted my blood to boil, didn’t you, little girl?”

She held her breath.

He pulled harder and her back arched.

“You wanted to get me so worked up that I’d have no choice but to take out all my frustrations on you.”

Jensen turned his wrist and wound her hair around his hand. Her neck lengthened and curved backward. He dipped his lips to her ear, growling deeply.

“Was that your plan?” He tugged again and she moaned. “Answer me.”

His breath on her ear sparked goosebumps along her throat. His voice made her tremble. The surge of pain he invoked traveled down to her cunt and she could feel herself drip.

She exhaled her reply. “Yes…”

A tiny smirk played upon his plump lips.

“Did you think you’d get away with it?” he teased, pulling her back to fall against his chest. The hand in her hair dropped to her throat and his fingers curled around the front. He didn’t squeeze, just kept his hand in place, letting her know that he could.

She knew it all too well.

“Did you think I wouldn’t punish you for all that teasing?”

She swallowed against his palm. “I… I knew you would.”

Jensen snaked his left hand around her waist and up to grab her breast. She whimpered, let her head fall back against him.

“Wanted you to,” she confessed.

He pinched her nipple and snapped his teeth by her ear. She shivered.

“You’re a bad girl, Y/N…”

Helplessly, she nodded. “I am.”

His fingers tightened gently around her pulse points and Y/N’s eyes fluttered. Her heart raced, her head became fuzzy.

“Such a fucking brat,” he hissed. His left hand slid down her front, tucked into the warmth between her thighs. He hummed darkly when his fingers slipped against bare flesh. “No panties, either?” He tapped on her slit. “You are asking for it.”

He teased her pussy, dragging his middle finger back and forth over the sensitive outer lips but never pushing inside. Y/N rolled her hips back and felt his cock, hard and trapped in his jeans.

She chewed her lip and wiggled her ass against him. “You gonna give it to me or do I have to go find someone else to help out?”

His voice deepened. His fingers squeezed a bit more. “Excuse me?”

Y/N laughed teasingly. “I don’t know, Rob’s looking pretty hot today… got that sexy beard going-”

With a shove from behind, the table came up to greet her and Y/N found herself face down on the polished top.

“You think so?” Jensen yanked her skirt up, exposing her ass and wet cunt.

“I always think Rob is hot,” she answered, pressing her luck.

Jensen opened his belt, ripped his zipper down.

“Especially with that stupid little hat…”

He’d had enough.

He clenched his teeth, kicked her feet apart, and grabbed her hips.

“Shut up,” he warned.

Y/N smiled into the cold wood. “The things I would let him do to me…”

“I said, shut up.”

Y/N opened her mouth to expand upon her lustful feelings for his friend, but Jensen forced a choked cry out of her instead.

In one unceremonious thrust, he was buried deep in her slick hole. Her pussy gripped him tight and Jensen inhaled hard and loud, his eyes snapping shut as lust and relief washed over him.

“Fuck…”

Y/N’s eyes rolled as he crushed into her from behind; the warm, solid mass of him pinning her to the table. She managed to push her palms up against her chest and lift her head, but his thrusts were quick and powerful, each forcing her back down onto the table.

“God, Jay-” Her voice crackled. Her breath stuttered.

His nails dug into her sides and Y/N moaned.

“Needed this so fucking bad,” she whimpered.

Jensen clawed at her ass and then slapped her left cheek hard.

She gasped but couldn’t move away. Moaned but couldn’t reach for more. She was desperately captive.

Another crack and she melted. Gentle pain spread like warm honey through her system and she relaxed, falling into his rapid rhythm.

His hips jerked faster, cock jabbed in deeper. She clenched around him, her body pulsing with edging pleasure.

“Please-”

Jensen growled wordlessly, lost in the moment. He bent his knees, dipped down and slowly stroked upwards.

Y/N hissed and clawed helplessly at the table. With nothing to hold onto, nothing to scratch, her nails slid across the smooth top and she shuddered. “Fuck! Please!”

Once more, he grabbed her hair; his palm pushing hard at the base of her skull. He twisted his wrist, yanking up a ponytail into his fist.

“Yeah? You want all this?”

He pulled and her back arched, lifting her chest from the table.

Her voice was shaking. “Y-yes!”

The web of pain mixed with his swift thrusts and Y/N came, her body squeezing him hard. Jensen let out a tight-lipped cry and slammed into her again and again, quickly following along.

“Fucking, fuck!”

When his hand relaxed, Y/N fell back down to the table and struggled to slow her breath. She could feel him stuffed inside, hesitant to back away.

“So good, baby,” she cooed.

Gently, he let himself fall over her and lean close to kiss her cheek. “Was, wasn’t it?” He grinned, toothy and punch drunk.

“Remind me to text you more,” she laughed as he moved away, releasing her from captivity.

He shook his head, tucked himself away. “Don’t even think about it.”

Green eyes were stern, but she knew he’d enjoyed himself too.

Spinning around, Y/N pressed up on her tiptoes and kissed his lips. She licked into his mouth while sneaking a hand around to dig in his back pocket. Quickly, she withdrew his ever-present bandana. His cum was beginning to drip down her thigh and she needed to wipe it away before heading back out into the real world.

She took a step back with the kerchief and Jensen grabbed her wrist.

“I don’t think so,” he grunted, ripping the bandana from her hand.

Y/N startled and gaped up at him. “But- I gotta clean up-”

His teeth dug into his lip. He shook his head. “No. Leave it.”

Turning away from her, he shoved the handkerchief back into his pocket and headed to the door.

She gasped as his hand hit the knob. “Jensen! Someone might notice!”

Looking back over his shoulder, he cocked an eyebrow and shrugged. “Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it? Maybe next time, you’ll consider the consequences.”

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!) @alwaystiredandconfused @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lunaroserites @lyarr24 @nancymcl @nix-rose @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @suckitands33 @the-wounded-healer05  

[wolfpackss]

Hi!

Can I ask for a Sam Uley sister reader who got imprinted on by Paul and how Sam would react? Maybe some smutty things involved and they get caught in sam’s house or something?

“Dinner’s ready!” You almost didn’t hear Emily yell out to everyone, with your head in Kim’s lap as her fingers braid softly through your hair. She’s been practicing fishtail braids and she insisted your hair was perfect for it. Your peace being disturbed by a bunch of half naked guys running towards the kitchen, hoping to be the first to grab some food. “One last strand of hair, there! Finished!” Kim reaches out for a mirror and shows the you the finished look. “You did great Kim, as always!” You grin at her. “ now let’s get something to eat, before the guys eat everything.”

You both walk into the kitchen, laughing at something Kim said and you bump shoulders with each other before being dragged into your boyfriend’s lap. He starts filling your plate and his with food while leaving small little kisses on your neck. During dinner, Paul keeps his one hand on your inner thigh, caressing your skin with his thumb, sometimes giving it a soft squeeze to remind you he’s watching you as you laugh and talk with Emily and Kim.

After dinner you excuse yourself to pack your bags, with Paul fast behind you. You stayed the night at your brothers house to help Emily with wedding preparations. You were kind of weary about Emily in the beginning but that’s because you have a good relationship with Leah and the way their relationship ended wasn’t one you agreed to. But after learning all about the legends, imprints and shifters you decided to give Emily a chance. It’s not that you two were best friends now, but you like the woman and your brother loves her so who are you to stand in the way of fate.

Your daydreaming is cut short when you feel Paul’s hands on your hips, squeezing softly and pulling your ass into his crotch. His one hand wanders over your stomach, to your breasts, stopping only to softly pinch and twist your nipple, before stopping at your neck. You feel his fingers widen and clutch around your throat as he pulls your upper body to his. “Feel what you do to me, baby?” His grinding never stops and you can feel his hard cock straining beneath his shorts. “Fuck baby, need you.. Need you now!” A whimper escapes your mouth and that’s all Paul needs before he pushes you so your hands fall on the bed as hitches your dress up over your ass and pulls your panties to the side.

“Such a pretty pussy, all wet and glistening for me” you hear him mumble his words as he runs a finger through your slick folds and stops at your entrance. He pushes in a little bit before removing and slipping two fingers back inside you. The moan that comes out of you has him go feral. With one hand he keeps finger fucking you into oblivion while the other works at his belt and pants, trying to get them off. He pushes his pants and boxers to the ground and guides his cock to your pussy. He slides it between your folds, flicking your clit with the head, making you see stars. “You ready baby?” He slowly pushes in and let’s you adjust to his size. “So fucking good, so fucking tight” Paul grits his teeth as he starts moving faster, gripping your hips and pulling you back into his cock.

“Ey, y/n! Have you seen the folder with wedding dresses? Emily cant find them and she thinks you-“

You and Paul stop as both your head turn towards the door where a frozen and furious looking Sam stands. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it before slamming the door with a bang. You look over your shoulder at your boyfriend who clicks his tongue. “Well, that kinda killed the mood”

[afro-hispwriter]

The French Mistake was a mistake

Dean Winchester/Jensen Ackles x reader

Soulless Sam x reader(brief mention)

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

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

Not edited

-

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

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

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

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

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

"So no angels?" Sam says.

"No angels, I think."

"Should we be killing anybody?"

"I don't think so."

"Running?"

"Where?"

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

"Thats a wrap on Jared and Jensen." 

"Who the hell are-?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah." 

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

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

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

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

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

Y/n L/n Supernatural 

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

Why did Y/n Carter leave Supernatural?

Why did Dean and Y/n break up?

Do Y/n and Sam get together? 

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

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

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

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

"Whats wrong?"

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

"Ruby?" Dean looks at the woman is shock and she scoffs. 

"Gen, who is it?" The next voice that popped up was so sweet but sounded tired. Another woman appeared behind fake Ruby, dean let his eyes trail over her figure before his breath hitched.

"Y/n." He breathed out and took a step forward. He watched you swallow harshly all the way from where he was. You looked so beautiful, beautiful in every universe it seems. 

"G-Gen." you shakily said and grabbed her hand. "You said he wasn't going to be here."

"I know honey, I told a certain someone not to let another certain someone into the house even though I thought I didn't have to worry about it." Fake Ruby said all of that while glaring at Sam which made him shrink back. 

"I can't be here." You let her go and start to rush down the stairs. 

"Y/n wait let me talk to Jared and I'll take you back to your hotel room."

"Y/n." Dean walked towards you as you made it to the bottom of the stairs. "Hey." It had been more than a year since he last saw you, at least the real you. 

"Hey? Thats all you had to say after you admitted me to a fucking psych ward!? Dean took a step back and you took a step forward. "Got me written off the rest of 5?" You shoved your finger into his chest "You didn't even bother to visit me!" You shoved him fully this time.

This must have been what the internet was talking about.

“I-I-.” Dean tried to think of something to say but he was blank.

“Oh now you don’t have anything to say. Nothing about this being good for me, that everything is going to go back to normal after I get it. News flash Jensen, nothing worked. Fuck! WHY DIDNT YOU JUST LET ME DIE?” You screamed and shoved him hard making him almost fall back. 

“Okay Y/n honey go wait in the car.” Gen grabbed you by your arms and guided you to the door. 

“Fuck you Jensen, I wish I never fucking met you.” Gen opened the door for you and the boys watched fake Ruby watch you go to the car. She took in a deep breath before whipping around to the two boys. 

“Seriously Jensen, nothing you couldn’t say anything too her? Do you know what this could do to her?” Dean bit his lip and wiped his eye with the back of his hand. “Crying, you’re crying? Jesus I don’t want to see you talking to her outside of work, you’ve ruined my friend for the rest of her life.” 

Dean looked down at his shoes in shame and it felt weird too. This wasn’t his life, so why was it affecting him this much?

“And you.” Fake Ruby looks at Sam. “We’ll talk later.” She walks up to him and wraps a hand around his neck and pulls him down to her lips. He didn’t kiss her back, the shock of the whole thing has Sam stumped. She pulled away and let out a disappointed sigh before walking about of the house. 

It was quite for a mom between them. 

“Sammy we need to go home now.” Dean says, it was so quite Sam almost didn’t catch it. He didn’t sound like Dean.

“Dean, you okay?” He watched his brother bring bath hands up and wipe his eyes before turning around.

“Im going too stop asking you about her from now on.” He says and Sam cocks his head.

“About Y/n? Dean what’s happening in this universe, is nothing compared to what was happening back home.” 

“No you don’t understand! This just proved that me and Y/n don’t work, in any universe.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do. Fake me left her first another woman after 7 years Sammy. And I left her for a woman who ended up wanting to ruin us. And them I didn’t even try to go after her after you disappeared, like you told me too. Im fucked up Sam, its better this way for her.” 

“Dean don’t say that-.”

“Sammy please, let’s just find a way back.”

-

A/n- if people want it, planning on making more about dean x reader, but the Jensen situation in this one… there is no coming back from that kinf of situation.  so no. But I have a big plan for Deans, I really hope people want more and want too know about it😁Feedback appreciated, I will love you forever

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 4

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

This chapter came together super fast, I'm a little shocked! Next on my to do list is to make a masterlist, so that all parts are easily accessible. If time permits, I really want to make a playlist. I just love making playlists!

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.3k+

Rooster finished his song behind the piano, surrounded by his friends who were all singing along. The whole bar burst into applause and cheers.

You clapped slowly, still staring in disbelief. He looked so great, so healthy, so… handsome.

Carly nudged you, snapping you out of your haze, “If you two don’t stop staring at each other and say ‘hello’, I’ll drag his ass over here!”

You shook your head, “I have a rule about seeing patients in the wild, I don’t acknowledge them unless they acknowledge me first.”

“But this former patient is sooooo hot!” Madi swooned.

Sam scanned the people surrounding Rooster at the piano, “And so are his friends…”

You and Bradley locked eyes again.

Hi. He mouthed to you.

Hey. You mouthed back.

A smile spread across his face and he slowly stood up from the piano bench, breezing past his friends, and swaggered towards you and the girls.

“Oh my god, he’s coming!” Sam squealed under her breath.

Carly shushed her, “Shut up and be cool!”

“What is my favorite nurse doing at my favorite bar?” Bradley posted up in front of you and winked.

You shifted your weight, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach, “The youngins on the unit bullied me into coming out.”

He looked over at them, “Oh hey, night nurse.”

Carly laughed, “Oh hey, night patient. Staying out of trouble?”

He shrugged, “I mean, I’d fuck around and get hospitalized if my favorite nurse was there to take care of me.”

“Please don’t do that, Bradshaw.” You rolled your eyes.

“I promise I’ll be good if you let me buy you a drink.” He smirked, glancing towards the bar.

Before you could argue, Carly answered for you, “She would love that! Thank you, Lt. Bradshaw.”

You turned and glared at her.

“Wanna lead the way?” Bradley suggested.

You pursed your lips, he was so cute! “Well alright!”

As you and Bradley walked away from the girls, you could feel them silently celebrating behind you.

“So are you chaperoning a field trip?” Bradley chuckled as the two of you stood outside on the deck that faced the beach. The only thing illuminating the dark sky was the moon and its reflection on the water.

You snorted, “Is it that obvious I’m the old lady?”

“Oh no, it’s obvious that those girls look like they just graduated high school.” He explained and looked over at you, “you look like a grown ass woman.”

“Nice save.” You softly punched his arm playfully, an electrical current ignited all throughout your body as soon as you touched him. Woah.

You wondered if Bradley could tell the feelings that just came over you, he was beaming at you. “It’s clear that they love and respect the shit outta you. Especially Carly, the child.”

You sputtered, “Oh my god, I forgot you called her that!”

He chuckled, “I still can’t believe she’s old enough to a be a nurse.”

“I can tell you this now since you’re no longer under her care,” you prefaced, “But she’s like brand new. She’s only been a nurse for like 3 months, she’s fresh off of her orientation. All those girls are.”

”And you’ve adopted them all?” He asked.

You shrugged, “They adopted me, more so. There’s a big culture of ‘nurses eat their young’. Basically meaning that like older nurses are really shitty to new nurses as a way of breaking them in and toughening them up.”

Bradley nodded, “Sounds familiar.”

“I, however, don’t agree with that.” You explained, “I think it instills insecurity with their skills and clinical judgment. It also makes them less likely to ask for help when they’re in over their heads. So I go out of my way to be a resource for these new nurses. And I’ve grown very fond of them in the process.”

He smiled, “Maybe if I had someone like you in the Navy, I’d be a colonel by now.”

“Maybe you could be that for someone else.” You suggested.

“ROOOOOOOOOSTERRRRRR!” Two tall, buff, tipsy men stood at the window calling for their friend.

He looked at them, then looked at you, “I think those idiots are beyond help.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Rooster and Y/N re-entered the bar to join his friends around the pool table.

“Hey guys, this is Y/N.” Bradley introduced her, “She was my nurse in the ICU.”

Phoenix's eyes widened, “Oh! The hot one?”

Y/N choked on your drink then looked up at Bradley, who was red as a lobster.

“Yes, Phoenix…” he sighed, “The best nurse I’ve ever seen do the damn job.”

Hangman sauntered up and held out his hand, “Name’s Hangman. How about you come take care of me, Honey?”

She couldn’t help but audibly gag, “That is the worst pick up line to ever use on a nurse, dude. Instant ick.”

Rooster smirked. She was smart, pretty, and completely saw through Hangman’s bullshit. What a woman.

“Hey, I’m Bob.” Bob greeted her, “Thanks so much for taking care of Rooster.”

“Of course, he was a wonderful patient.” She then looked up at Bradley again, “Why do they call you Rooster?”

“Cuz he’s got a big—“ Payback started to say but Bradley reached over and covered his mouth to shut him up.

“It’s my callsign, what I go by in the air as a pilot.” He explained, “We all have one. They’re given to us during training, usually it starts out as someone clowning you and it just sticks.”

She nodded, “Interesting… you’re more of a Bradley to me though.”

Eventually Carly, Sam, and Madi made their way over to the group of aviators as well. Hangman looked a little too excited to see three hot young things. He was starting to get real close and touchy with Madi.

“How old is she?” Rooster asked Carly.

“Twenty two.” Carly chirped.

He took his head and walked over to the flirty pair mumbling to himself, “Absolutely the fuck not.”

Y/N kind of loved that he was protective over the girls. “Glad he got in the middle of them before I had to.”

“It’s giving Mom and Dad.” Sam giggled.

She rolled your eyes, “It’s giving… you’re reading way too far into this.”

“Y/N, come get your patient!” Madi pouted walking back to the group with Rooster, “He’s a cock block.”

“They don’t call him Rooster for nothing.” Carly held up her drink, pretending to cheers.

“Ooooh, good one.” Phoenix prompted a high-five and Carly gladly accepted.

Y/N scooted in closer to Bradley when he stood beside her. He so desperately wanted to drape his arm around her shoulder, to make her feel as safe as she made him feel in the hospital. But he was… nervous. He didn’t want to scare away the angelic figure that he had been daydreaming about for the past two weeks. 

Somehow, Bradley ended the night with three drunk 22 year olds in the back of his vintage Bronco and Y/N in the front seat. 

“If one of them throws up in your car, I’ll pay for it to be cleaned.” She whispered to him.

He scoffed, “No, need to worry about it. It wouldn’t be the first time these seats have been christened with vomit.”

She looked back at the girls, still with a concerned look on her face as they giggled and slurred.

He placed his hand over hers and a surge of electricity shot through his entire body.

Y/N then looked over at him and gave him a soft smile, “Thank you for staying sober enough to drive.”

Bradley winked, “I was planning on it, wouldn’t have driven myself to the bar if I was planning on having more than a beer or two.”

“I guess DUIs are probably frowned upon in the Navy.” 

He chuckled, “I mean yes, but many seamen straight outta boot camp still get them… it’s a lot of fucking paperwork.”

“Y/N… he said semen!” Sam leaned forward in her seat and giggled, making all three young girls burst into hysterical laughter.

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle too, though she tried to hide it. 

Rooster couldn’t help but smile to himself as he turned into the parking lot of the apartment complex that your phone was navigating him to. 

“This is you girls.” Rooster looked back at the silly trio, “You all roommates?”

Carly shook her head, “Noooo, we’re having a sleepover!”

“Ooh, very nice.” He nodded, trying not to laugh at the girls too much as they stumbled out of the truck.

Sam straightened herself up at waved to Bradley from the curb, “Thanks Dad!”

“Thanks Dad!” The other two echoed, making Bradley laugh. 

Y/N shooed them away, “Go to bed! Maybe give each other IVs in the morning if you feel bad.”

The girls stumbled into the building, “Okay Mom!”

She watched them and made sure they were safely inside before turning back to Bradley, “Sorry about them.”

He waved it off, “They’re a trip, I’m happy to be able to help you get them home safely.”

“May I?” She reached for the AUX cord that was hooked up to the updated radio system. It juxtaposed the vintage feel of the rest of the Bronco, but it was a necessity for Bradley to easily jam out.

“Be my guest.” 

“What do you like to listen to?”

He looked over at her and smirked, “is it too ironic for me to say Dad Rock?”

She burst into laughter. Oh god, how Bradley’s heart soared when he heard that beautiful sound. Once she caught her breath, Y/N plugged in her phone. “Have I got the playlist for you!”

The intro to Up Around the Bend by Creedence Clearwater Revival started to play through his speakers.

“Oh hell yeah!” He bobbed his head to the beat and turned up the volume, “I love CCR!”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Bradley drummed his palms against the steering wheel to the beat of And She Was by Talking Heads as he pulled up in front of your apartment. He idled there for a moment before shifting into park.

You sighed… This is so inappropriate. But you desperately wanted to shoot your shot…

He looked over at her, “I just… I can’t believe I saw you again… It doesn’t feel real.”

“Do you wanna come inside?” You blurted out, possibly a little too loud.

He perked up, completely surprised. “Uh yeah. Yeah! I would love to!” He shifted his car into drive and found a guest parking space for the Bronco.

You started to reach for your door handle but Bradley stopped you, “Don’t you dare touch that door.”

You blushed, remembering how he scolded you earlier in the parking lot of the Hard Deck for the same thing.

He got out of the car, walked around to your door, and opened it for you.

“An officer and a gentleman.” You winked at him as you climbed out.

He offered you a hand for assistance, “Now you’re gettin’ it.”

You accepted, placing your hand in his— again that feeling of electricity jolted through you.

He gestured for you to walk ahead of him, “Lead the way.”

You began to ramble as the two of you walked to your building, “So I’m not much of a beer drinker but I do have seltzers, wine, liquor, and all kinds of mixers. Don’t feel like you have to take anything if you don’t want it though. I can also put a pizza in the oven—“

You were interrupted by a large hand on your shoulder, again with the electric feeling. 

“That all sounds wonderful.” Bradley said sweetly, “Please don’t make a fuss over me.”

You sighed, “Sorry, can’t help it. I get nervous.”

“You don’t need to be nervous with me.” 

“So was I correct in hearing that you told the girls to do IVs on each other in the morning?” Bradley questioned polishing off the last sip of his glass of wine.

You promptly refilled his glass and your own, finishing the bottle you opened together. “You are correct.”

“What the fuck?” He was absolutely tipsy now.

“Obviously we don’t do it often,” you explained, “But after a night out, you feel crappy and dehydrated… give yourself a bag of IV fluid and you’re golden for the day. Nurses have actually made businesses out of going to people’s houses and giving them.”

Rooster was so shook by the information he was receiving, “Where do you get the stuff?!”

“I’ve collected some from hospitals over my time working there. As I said, I don’t do it often but… it’s nice to have on hand.” You shrugged.

He smirked, “What are the odds I can get you to give me an IV sometime?”

You laughed, “Bradshaw, I gave you tons of IV fluids two weeks ago!”

“That’s different, I was a patient!” He sipped his wine, “That’s not as fun as getting drunk and having one the next morning.”

You scanned his arms, “I mean… ya do have some great veins.”

He looked down at his arms, “I have never had anyone tell me that before, especially not so sensually.”

You burst out laughing, “Sorry! Good veins are like Nurse Porn. We love them.”

Bradley shook his head, “The more I learn about this profession, the weirder it gets. First you’re telling me about older nurses eating their young; now you’re telling me you all are into vein porn!”

Your laughing continued until your stomach started to hurt. It has been a really long time since you laughed this hard. You looked over and caught him smiling at you, “What?”

“You have a great laugh,” he explained, “I remember the first time I heard it. You were talking to me while I was intubated and drugged up.”

“You remember that?” You asked in disbelief.

He nodded, “How could I forget the first time I felt human in that place?”

You placed your hand over his, this time instead of electricity, there was a wave of calm with your touch. 

He turned his hand so that his palm was up and holding yours, “You made me feel like I could actually get better.”

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