#at first I though that Sam was the big brother because he was the tallest one 😭

[nyxlinak]

You know how I started to watch Supernatural ? It was last summer, I saw a few tiktok and some gacha youtube videos about it and all I knew is that it was about two guys dealing with supernatural stuffs. I found it interesting and told myself I should take a closer look to it one day. Until I found out that the two guys were brothers and god knows that my favorite trope of all since forever is family, especially siblings (plus it was about them hunting supernatural stuff and i’ve been super interest in all the ghost & monsters stories since I’m a little kid) and from then on, I knew that this show was made for me. I did a few research, watched youtube compilations of Dean being protective of Sam and found out that it was on Prime Video that we just got a few weeks ago.

I ran to the TV to watch it and I was on 1x03 when my dad came into the room, took a look at the TV and said « Oh, I know this show, I watched it » I didn’t believed him and said « Really ?? » and he said « Yeah, the…what’s their name again ? The Winchester brothers.» I was shoked, I never though that my dad would have known about the show. And then, he started to spoil me everything !

Later, I discovered that he started to watch the show when it first came out in 2005 the year that my older sibling, the eldest of the family was born. I’m pretty sure he never finished the show but when he spoiled me, he told me about Dean sacrifying himself to save Sam and Sam becoming the devil. Which means that my dad was watching my current hyperfixation before I was born and when I was a baby and I never knew about it ???

[siampie]

Get Off the Highway || Chapter 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 1.2 K  

Warnings/tags: Enemies to lovers trope, pining, angst, fluff, childhood trauma, eldest daughter syndrome

A/N: I’m sorry for the short chapter. There isn’t much Dean in this one or much of an interaction between them. But I really hope you enjoy it. It is a short introduction to Reader and the very first meeting between our reader and the Winchesters. I know it says enemies to lovers trope, but I think it’s more along the lines of rivals to lovers. A bit like Anastasia and Dimitri, from the animated movie; Anastasia. If you know, you know. Which we’ll get more in the next chapter.   

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Dividers by @cafekitsune

“Thanks,” You smiled at the waitress as she refilled your cup.

She sent a quick smile your way. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Will do.”

Sitting in the booth by the window, you were waiting for the help that Garth had promised you. You still had a hard time believing that he had sent the Winchesters your way. You had been working on this case for a little over two weeks. Strange killings had been going on in town. Wasn’t that how every hunt started? Strange deaths, classified more often than not as animal attack.

You knew better though. Everything about that case pointed to vampires. You had been able to locate their nest. Only problem was you were alone and there were at least eight of them. And before that case, you had never hunted vampires. Many hunters believed they had been hunted to extinction. And so far, you could only agree with them. Until now. It was a pretty big nest. At least, it was to you.

Not much of a team player, you usually hunt on your own. You liked it better this way. You didn’t have to depend on anyone for your survival. And you were the only one you had to worry about when on a hunt. It was better this way.

A dark muscle car parked next to yours on the parking lot. Two tall men climbed out of the car and made their way into the diner. The bell over the door rang as they walked through it. You observed them as they looked around the diner, certainly looking for you. The tallest of the two, with hair that belonged in a shampoo commercial, was the first one to clock you. Broad shoulders, tall, the Winchesters were handsome men. Way out of your league.

“Sam and Dean Winchester, I presume?” You asked as they stopped by your booth. You introduced yourself as they took a seat across from you.

The waitress stopped by your table. They placed their orders, and the waitress left with a smile on her face. And you told them everything they needed to know about the hunt, the nest and the location of it.

Your back slammed against the wall as the male vampire shoved you into the wall. You tried to push him away as the vampire snarled before he dived for your neck. You had a plan that you had, of course, shared with the brothers.

“That’s a stupid plan.” Dean scoffed.

“How is it stupid?” You asked with a frown.

“Too complicated.” Dean retorted. “It’s vampires, we go in, kill them, save the girl, go out. Simple, easy.”

“And my plan is stupid.” You scoffed in turn. “What about the not getting killed part?”

“We kill them before they kill us.” Dean said back.

“You have an answer for everything, huh?” You crossed your arms over your chest, annoyed at him.  

And now, there you were. Fighting off a vampire because Dean Winchester thought he was too good for your plan. Alright, maybe your plan wasn’t all that good. It was the first time you were hunting vampires, after all. And sure, Sam had given you precious tips on how to take down a vampire. But Dean could have at least given you the benefit of the doubt. Or at least, given your plan a chance. It wasn’t all that bad.

You always thought there were safety in numbers. Although, you’d rather hunt alone. However, this was a vampire nest and you needed help. And your plan was for the three of you to stick together while you go through the nest. The Vampires would not know you were there. Chances were, they did not expect anyone to come to their nest. It wasn’t a grand and complicated plan, as Dean made it sound. It was your plan. And you liked to do things your way.

That was why you were annoyed more than anything. It was your hunt and your plan. And Dean Winchester decided that he would take over. And you simply did not like it. But you swallowed your pride because he knew better than you did. He had hunted vampires before while you had not. So, you trusted his opinion but you still didn’t like that they were not doing things your way.

“Took you long enough.” You said breathless, as the dead vampire fell to the ground. Beheaded.

“You okay?” Sam asked you.

“Yeah,” You nodded quickly. “I’m good.”

“SAM!” You both heard Dean call from upstairs.

On Sam’s heels, you rushed upstairs to Dean’s rescue. There, you saw more vampires and still no trace of the girl. One of those vampires was pining Dean to the floor, going for his neck. As soon as you reached the landing, the vampires turned on you and hissed. You reached into your pocket for the syringe that contained the dead man’s blood. It was poison to vampires. It would not kill them but incapacitate them for a little while. You stabbed the first vampire that reached you in the neck, and they crumpled to the floor. You took this opportunity to behead the monster. Sam was a little to your left, fighting his own vampire. He kicked it in the stomach before marching onto it. Judging that Sam did not need your help, you rushed to Dean, and beheaded the vampire attacking him.

You pulled him to his feet. His hand covered his bleeding neck. Your eyes immediately went to Sam. The latter was kneeling on the ground, straddling a headless body. You looked around you. Bodies were strewn around the room. It seemed you had taken care of all the vampires. You abandoned the brothers to check the rooms. You had to find the girl, make sure she was alright.

She was not. Not really. The vampires had fed on her and thankfully, she had not been turned into one herself. Physically, she would heal but emotionally—there was a long road ahead of her. You hoped she would move on from this eventually.

“It’s a weekday.” You said as an answer after the brothers invited you out to the bar.

“So?” Dean frowned at you.

“I don’t drink on weekdays.” You shrugged.

Dean scoffed before shaking his head. “It’s just a drink after a hunt.”

“I get that but I don’t drink on weekdays.” You retorted. “You guys go. Do what you usually do. I’m going back to my motel.”

“Suit yourself then.” Dean said before walking up to his car.

You exhaled as you watched him go. “Anyway, thanks for the help.”

“You’re welcome.” Sam smiled down at you. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You smiled at him. “I’d rather go back to the motel.”

“Well, if you need help with anything, give us a call.” Sam offered kindly.

“Will do.” You nodded. “It was nice meeting you guys.”

Sam grinned at you. “Yeah. Be safe out there.”

“You too.”

You waved him goodbye before you drove away. You wouldn’t call. Not if you can help it. But it was nice to know you had the option if you chose to. It couldn’t hurt to have the Winchesters as your ally, could it? And who knew? Maybe you would call.

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[seriouslysam8]

I loved the description of the Potter children's height. It completely threw me off guard. 😅 I always imagined Teddy being the tallest (maybe 6'2", James about 6 ft, and Albus being short (around 5'8") and just 2 inches shorter than Harry. In your series though, I think Albus being taller works better. I'm kinda liking a short James. His height mirrors his personality. Albus just wants to enjoy his life without all the bs and watch the drama unfold from the shadows. Being tall sometimes can put you in the spotlight and make you feel exposed. James is shorter, talks a lot, and acts like he needs to compensate with his siblings. (Lily has a baby so James needs another one). He's like a feisty small dog that needs the attention while Albus is a cat (probably a big one like his penis) that just wants you to fuck off! 😂

So, I first saw the Albus taller than James headcanon from Blvnk and I absolutely loved it. It just seemed to fit so well.

So Teddy is the tallest at 6’2” (187 cm). I picture that Remus was quite tall and I picture the Blacks were a tall family as well. Teddy just got their tall genes so he fits right in looking like a Potter with Albus and Harry.

Albus is next at 6’1” (185 cm). You’re right. He can just see everything and sniggers at all the pandemonium and can insert his little sassy comments.

Harry is next at a nice 6’0” (182 cm). I know a lot of people like to make Harry taller, but I think his height suits him. He’s still tall but not insanely tall. I like Ron right around 6’3” (190 cm) so they fit together nicely. I always picture Harry and Ron looking like Sam and Dean from Supernatural. Plus, I like Harry having two kids who are taller than him.

Lastly is James at 5’9” (175 cm). He’s got some of the Prewett genes in him that shine through as I picture the short genes come from Molly’s side of the family. James is definitely the feistiest of the siblings and is always trying to catch up. James is often notified first out of a crowd because he’s so fucking loud even though his other brothers are so tall and really stand out.

[deans-baby-momma]

Truth or Dare-Part 5/20

Summary: The Winchester sibling trio has been through so much in the last decade. From the night of their parents’ 30th wedding anniversary party where Sam and Dean eased Y/N from her innocence to Sam becoming a happily married lawyer with a kickass nurse of wife to the three of them now living in the same town they grew up in under the same roof where each of them came of age.  Y/N is a working mother of three,  her days spent helping the townsfolk make proper and suitable financial decisions while bustling about escorting her two oldest to school and her youngest, Mary Ellen, to daycare; Dean’s garage is the premiere body shop for classic restorations and  car maintenance; people from other state’s bring their vehicles to them to be repaired. Business at Winchester Wheels  is booming; Sam is the legal council for Winchester Wheels and has been since he moved back home almost 5 years ago. He has his work cut out for him dealing with the people Dean pisses off and threatens to sue the garage on at least a monthly basis.

After one lust-filled night, the siblings become more than family.  They become lovers. The three of them, together and separately.

One big loving family.

So when Y/N’s boss calls for her to take a much needed vacation, the six of them hit the road. What will happen? Will it bring them closer together or break them apart?

W/C: 1243

Warnings:  fluff

After the shenanigans at the cafe and RJ’s insistent revelation, the six Winchesters loaded into the rental vehicle and got back on the road.

“Where to first?” Sam asks, looking at a map on his phone. 

“First stop, Dodge City!” Dean exclaims happily but frowns when he is met with groans. “What?”

“Dude, that is like your fantasy sabbatical,” Sam says, looking over his shoulder at Y/N to see her nodding in agreement. “You love everything to do with the Wild West. Me and Y/N, not so much. The kids are going to be so bored!”

Dean huffs and sighs. “Well just so you know, they have a zoo and a water park that I had planned to take everyone to. Do you want to just cross that off the list?”

Y/N could tell Dean had gotten his feelings hurt at their disregard for his agenda. She scooted forward in her seat and put her arms around his seat and onto his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m sure we’ll enjoy Dodge City.”

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” Dean responds and bends his head to kiss her hand. “We’re going to get there just in time for the 5:00 mock showdown between Wild Bill and Davis Tutt. You know Wild Bill got lucky Tutt was such a bad shot. It took ol’ Bill a few seconds longer to steady his gun. Worked out though, because he shot his opponent right in the heart!”

Y/N could tell from the tone of his voice and the slight change of pitch that Dean was excited to be able to witness such a remarkable, albeit remade, event in history. She felt bad about their initial reaction.

“Oh my god! Did you see that?” Dean remarks as they walk away from the stage of the mock gun battle. “Bill was the fastest draw in the land.” Dean pretends to pull a gun from a holster on his side and makes a pistol with his finger and thumbs, “shooting” left and right; mimicking the sound of shots by blowing air out of his puckered lips. 

Y/N shakes her head as she carries a sleepy Mary Ellen on her lap as RJ holds his uncle’s hand and Izabella holds her father’s non-gun one. As they walk down the street of the city decorated to look like an Old West town, they each take in the sights from the displays of the attire of times gone by. 

She can not imagine having to wear such drab and concealing garb that the women wore back then. Added to the fact that they were usually also squeezed into a corset that was two sizes too small and Y/N wonders how they ever got anything done, much less felt like populating the world.

She looks at one of the pictures that is hanging on the wall. The Vandall Family were photographed in front of what Y/N assumed was their homestead. The husband and wife and their 13 kids were all lined up from tallest to shortest. The woman was also holding an infant in her arms so that made 14 times she had taken off all those layers and laid with her husband to get pregnant. Unfathomable to Y/N!

Back at the hotel they had gotten rooms at, she places Mary Ellen in the provided crib and closes the door to the adjoining room. Izabella and RJ are in the adults’ room with Sam and Dean watching cartoons so Y/N decides to take a shower while the baby naps.

As she is rinsing her hair, she hears the door open and feels a presence enter the room. She waits and just a few seconds later, Dean’s head pops around the curtain.

“What a lovely view,” he says as he eyes her up and down. “So sexy,” he continues with a smirk on his face. “And all mine.”

“Uh huh. What do you want?” Y/N asks, trying to act nonchalant, that the fact that Dean is ogling her naked form is not turning her on. But sure enough she feels the first of the tingles in her pussy as he licks his lips.

“Sammy said he would watch the kids so we can go out,” Dean tells her, his eyes still trailing up and down her body. “So Y/N, wanna go on a date with me?”

Y/N stops what she’s doing and looks at her brother. An actual date? One where they can be the couple they want to be; hold hands and kiss? A date where they don’t have to worry about who sees them together?! The thought of that alone gets her blood pumping and her heart beat rushing.

“Yea,” she answers delighted and anxious.

“Okay. Well, dress up little lady because I am taking you out on the town!” Dean imitates a cowboy as his smile stretches across his face. He winks and blows her a kiss before disappearing. She hears the bathroom door click shut and she waits until she is sure Dean is back in the other room before she squeals.

Their first date. The first time they can go out and be a couple. She hurriedly finishes washing before turning the water off and stepping out of the tub, wrapping the fluffy hotel towel around her. 

She’s going on a date, her first official date. Ever!

Knowing this is a special occasion, even if it is just for her, Y/N takes the extra time to style her hair the way she wants it and picks out the best blouse she had packed, pairing it with a pair of black trousers and her slip on booties. 

She even puts on makeup, using the barely-ever-used eyeshadow palette to create a smoky eye effect. She tops that off with a thin layer of mascara and some blush on her cheeks. Looking in the mirror, the reflection shown back to her is of a full-grown woman and not the half-grown kid she was so used to seeing when she looked at herself. 

Looking at her reflection, she now knows how she attracted both Dean and Sam because even she will admit with the way her clothes fit and her hair and makeup on point, she was beautiful and sexy. 

She briefly wonders what Dean’s reaction will be and doesn’t have to wait long to find out. The sound of the key in the door draws her attention and she looks over as Dean walks in. He is dressed up also. 

He is wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, with no holes or snags in them, a cinnamon colored henley under a multi-colored flannel, the colors distressed and faded. The jeans were tight around his thick thighs and groin, leaving little to the imagination. Y/N could melt into the floor right there.

“Hot damn,” Dean exclaims as he takes Y/N in. “I am one helluva lucky son of a bitch. You are gorgeous, baby girl.”

“Thanks, handsome. You look mighty fine yourself.”

“Ready to paint this town?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she answers with a smile.

Dean places his palm on the bottom of her back as they walk down the street heading to, what Y/N is sure, some cafe that serves lukewarm coffee, cold pie and has dirty ashtrays on each table. 

Imagine her surprise when  Dean directs her to the exact opposite of her assumption.

A/N: If your username is marked through, it’s because Tumblr wouldn’t allow me to tag you. Sorry. 

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @spnbaby-67 @tftumblin @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @death-unbecomes-you @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @deanwanddamons @onethirstyunicorn @supraveng @deandreamernp

[deniigi]

i have been sick in bed with a stomach bug and re-reading a bunch of your series and these questions have plagued me so pls, for the sake of your fellow samuel chung lover, if sammy was in the Selkie verse, would he be a fae? if so, what kind? ALSO, what would his interactions with jack be like (either in the selkie verse or in the lying by omission verse)? pls and thanks <3

hi!

I’ll answer asks in a bit, but for this one I have a fic that explore a What If Jack Lived/Mike existed scenario with Sam in the Inimitable verse? I know it’s now what you asked for, but it is like 4k already written so that might be smth--an LBO Sam would be tricky because Sam would be itty bitty and Matt wouldn’t have the same kind of relationship with him.

As for selkie-verse Sam? I would have to do more research on Chinese spirts/fae/folklore, but for now, he’s not fae, just human 💖He’s like 12 and can make himself invisible though, which would be very confusing for Sue if she ever bumped into him

(Sue: baby boggart??? come here I love you I will look after you.)

(Sam: please stay exactly 5037 feet away from me! Thank you and I’m calling my mom!)

Here is the What If Jack and Mike thing from the Inimitable Verse.

Jack Murdock was the size of a house. He made Matt look dainty. He made Kirsten look like a kids’ mannequin. And he made Foggy laugh until he wept.

Sam could not understand a goddamn thing he said. Nor could he understand the guy he’d brought with him, who appeared to have had some serious plastic surgery to look exactly like Matt.

Sam could take an unintelligible giant. What he couldn’t take was an unintelligible Matt, and before him, somehow, in this ring of ginger, he’d been presented with two unintellible Matts.

His head was spinning.

Kirsten patted at him sympathetically.

“I’m from New York,” Sam told her mournfully.

“I know, hon.”

“How is this even possible? You’re from New York. How are they—what are they saying?”

Kirsten shook her head.

“Only Foggy knows,” she said. “It’s okay, he’ll translate when he gets back up.”

 --

 Mr. Murdock, the tallest of the gingers, might have been a good three to four inches taller than his boys, and he might have had the biggest hands that Sam had ever had the opportunity to touch in his life, but he was really nothing but a big, shaggy sheep dog.

The reasons Sam couldn’t understand a single fucking word he said came threefold.

1) Mr. Murdock had grown up in mid-century Hell’s Kitchen. That was just how accents from those parts used to sound. They’d lightened with time.

2) He had an extra layer of what Matt called a ‘brogue.’ He was first-generation American. Both his folks had immigrated from Ireland. He talked halfway between the way they talked and the way that the kids in his neighborhood growing up had.

And 3) The man had a lisp?

It wasn’t super noticeable. Sam sure as shit couldn’t hear it among the other layers of stuff going on, but Foggy said it was there.

Apparently, it came out more when he was anxious.

Apparently, he was anxious a lot.

Foggy told Sam to just give it an hour and he’d understand.

 --

  “So your name is Sam?” Mr. Murdock asked him while Sam tried to keep his mouth from falling open.

Matt was holding his facial-copy-cat against the wall by his lapels. The copy-cat had started making kissy noises at him. He egged Matt on to punch him right in the face.  

No one was stopping them.  

Kirsten cleared her throat and brought Sam back down to earth.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sam. Mr., uh—”

“Call me Jack.”

Never.

“Matty hasn’t said much about you, sorry to say.” Mr. Murdock explained. The more he spoke directly to Sam, the more Sam found, to his relief, that he could understand him. “He don’t like sharin’ things his brother can get ahold of and take from ‘im.”

Sam looked from him to the ‘brother.’

“There’s two of them?” he asked.

Mr. Murdock hummed.

“God help us, every one,” he huffed.

You can say that again.

“How long has there been two?” Sam asked hesitantly.

“Mm? Oh, uh. Christ with the math,” Mr. Murdock said, “Michael—Michael—boy, you knock that off; that’s how you lose teeth—how old are you now?”

Nevermind. Sam didn’t need to know.

“I’m ageless, Pops, remember?” ‘Michael’ said, grinning at Matt’s sneer in his face, “Everlasting, never dying. Immortal. Timeless. I’m—” Dude got the wind knocked out his sails from Matt aiming for his solar plexus instead of his face.

“Maitiú,” Mr. Murdock said sharply. “He’s your brother.”

“He earned it,” Matt snapped back at his dad. “You said ‘no teeth,’ I ain’t even touched his goddamn teeth.”

“No, you coward, you wouldn’t, would you?” Michael threw back at Matt with no sense in his head. “You scared of gettin’ stuck on all that metal, huh?”

“I ain’t got my tetanus booster,” Matt deadpanned.

“Oh, get the yellow fever one next time, it’s a hoot—”

“I’m mailing you back to Thailand in a crate.”

“Oh mail me, why don’t you?”

“I’m gonna.”

“Boys,” Mr. Murdock said, exasperated. “Knock it off. You love each other. We get it.”

Kirsten shook with giggles.

“I’d drown you in the open ocean and then kill myself,” Matt said through gritted teeth. His nose was maybe an inch from his brother’s.

Michael just beamed.

“Aw, babe. You’d do that for me?” he gushed.

“HHhhh—”

“Maitiú.”

Sam had never heard someone said ‘Matthew’ this way. It was delightful. It made Matt’s shoulders go stiff as a board and then squirm in barely contained fury.

“Thank you,” Mr. Murdock said. “Drop ‘im.”

Matt didn’t want to, but he released his grip on his sibling. Michael slipped down and then caught himself and straightened himself out.

“Well, I’ll never,” he said. “We come all this way to visit you on your deathbed and—”

“I’m not dying,” Matt said.

“—you worry Dad sick for months on end. Don’t call. Don’t write. He thought the Californians had eaten you—"

“—I told him that it was a dislocation and I’m fine—”

“—and of course I told him, ‘no Dad, there ain’t any more cannibals in California than there are in New York’ but who listens to Mike, huh?”

Mr. Murdock had only been in the house for 15 minutes and he already looked exhausted.

“Where are the dogs?” he asked Foggy.

 ---

 This was the weirdest time-out session Sam had ever experienced and he’d decided that he was living for it. Mr. Murdock went out onto the deck and locked himself out there with the dogs. Matt and his brother had never been more guilty.

Quickly the arguing turned towards scheming, which turned towards climbing out a window, which turned towards getting stuck on the roof and pleading with the Father to lend a hand.

Mr. Murdock observed Matt sobbing with laughter over Mike’s sudden anxiety of stepping from the roof to the deck’s arm railing with only hollowness.

“Mike’s not very super,” Sam pointed out to Kirsten.

“Nope,” she said brightly. “He is refreshingly normal,” she said. “Even the conman part.”

The what?

 ---

 Matt climbed off the roof with ease and took the opportunity to finally give his old man a hug, which Mr. Murdock seemed to appreciate. He smoothed a giant mitt of a hand through Matt’s hair tenderly, like he was a baby.

It was kind of cute.

Mike scowled at them both and announced that he was pretty fine, by the way. He’d just stay there on the roof until the vultures got him.

“Matt’s the younger twin,” Foggy told Sam cheerfully. “He can do no wrong.”

Sam felt like he could suddenly see the forest for the trees.

“And Mike?” he asked.

Foggy snickered.

“He and Jack live together to keep each other in good cardiac shape,” he said. “They drive each other nuts.”

“But they still live together?” Sam clarified.

“Yeah,” Foggy said. “Mike’s what happens when you give a used-car salesman ever so slightly too much brain. He travels all over. Gets shot at and held hostage a lot. He’ll do just about anything for a couple bucks, no matter how hard Jack’s tried to get him to go straight over the years.”

“And Mr. Murdock? He doesn’t mind his son living with him?” Sam asked.

Kirsten and Foggy softened.

“Matt used to check on him more when we lived back home,” Foggy said. “Without him and Mike, Jack’s by himself. He’s got friends and work, yeah, but you know. If it weren’t for Mike, he’d come home to an empty apartment every night. Man’s got too much head trauma for that to be any kind of good. Mike looks after him—probably more than he lets anyone else. He’s too stubborn to let Matt try to help him.”

Aw, cute.

“Be prepared, Sammy,” Foggy said. “Jack’s already adopted you.”

Say what now?

 ---

 Mr. Murdock didn’t outright say that Sam was puny and he was going to fix it, but Sam could see it in his disappointed gaze.

“Don’t like bread?” he asked as Sam chewed his way through an Uncrustable at the kitchen table. Sam froze with the sandwich in hand. He stared at it.

It was bread.

Surely, this was bread.

Right?

“Uh?” he tried.

“Don’t like the crusts?” Mr. Murdock asked him more gently.

Oh.

“I don’t mind them, these are premade though. You know, convenient,” Sam explained.

He got a stare impossible to read.

“Stay there,” Mr. Murdock decided.

It took too long for Sam’s brain to work out what had just happened, and by the time it had, it was too late. Matt stuck his head in the room and asked Sam why he’d told his dad that Matt was starving him.

Sam floundered and tried to explain the sandwiches. Matt absorbed this and rolled his whole head.

“Well, now he’s makin’ a week’s worth for you,” he sighed. “Wants you to eat the crust.”

Dude.

“It’s easier not to question it,” Matt sighed. “What kind of jelly do you want?”

 ---

 Matt didn’t interrogate his father, but Mike did. Unrepentantly. He walked in as Sam was emphasizing that he didn’t want any kind of jelly and he’d make his own sandwiches and understood the entire situation faster than Sam could have possibly explained it.

“FATHER,” he roared. “Leave the boy alone, he’s not starvin’, he’s just short.”

Flattering. Thanks, asshole.

There was no response from the kitchen. Matt told Mike to ease off. Mr. Murdock was trying to be nice.

“There’s nice and then there’s rude,” Mike said.

“And you’re rude?” Matt offered.

There was a pause.

A warm hand found the space in between Sam’s shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry about both of ‘em, kid, they got rocks for brains, it ain’t their fault. Our grandfather was a caveman, you know how it is,” Mike said kindly.

Matt was not amused.

“It’s not a big deal,” he repeated. “I’ll eat ‘em if Sam doesn’t want ‘em.”

“And subject yourself to peanut butter hell for multiple days in a row, Maitiú?” Mike asked, scandalized.

Matt glared in the direction of the stairs.

“Some of us enjoy nut protein,” he said.

Sam blinked in shock as big hands slapped themselves over his ears.

“There are children present,” Mike hissed.

Sam found the guy’s middle fingers and yanked. Mike swore. Matt chuckled.

“He ain’t a baby,” he said fondly. “Sam’s a tough cookie.”

You’re damn right he was.

“Charming,” Mike grumbled as Matt abandoned them for the kitchen again. He scowled down at Sam. “What’s your gimmick then?” he asked.

Sam wondered if he could make his contacts come out by blinking slowly enough. It would be cool as fuck. It definitely wasn’t happening.

“I control typhoons,” he said.

Mike winced.

“Fuckin’ vigilantes,” he said.

 ---

 Mr. Murdock gave Sam a second sandwich. He’d cut it into quarters.

“Matt says you don’t like jelly,” he said. “Bananas are better?”

Sam couldn’t help but like him.

“Yeah. I don’t eat much bread generally,” he said. “My family has always been more about rice.”

Mr. Murdock analyzed him.

“I can do rice,” he said.

Bless. It was okay, really.

“Do you like spicy things, Mr. Murdock?” Sam asked.

“Jack.”

Nice try.

“Spicy?” Sam repeated.

Mr. Murdock considered it.

“Not sure,” he said. “You mean like hot sauce? I ain’t fuck with that ghost pepper shit.”

Sam hummed.

“Before you leave, I’ll cook for you in return,” he said. “I won’t make it too spicy, cross my heart.”

Mr. Murdock considered this and then got a look in his eye that made Sam’s cheeks start to ache a little.

 ---

 Matt told Sam to play nice. Matt told his father to play nice.

There was to be no hiding chilis in Mike’s pasta.

They were caught and scolded.

“Not to worry,” Mr. Murdock told Sam fondly, “There are other ways.”

 ---

 Sam had never seen such outrage over a knot in a shoelace. Matt crossed his arms over his chest, seconds away from tapping his own foot.

“You said you were ready,” he reminded Mike for the fourth time.

“I know what I said,” Mike snapped at him. He’d dug through all the kitchen drawers to procure a metal skewer to apply to this situation.

“We’re going to be late,” Matt said. “I wait for my guide, she doesn’t wait for me.”

“Well she’s waitin’ today,” Mike said. “I swear to god—”

Mr. Murdock stroked the top of Tuesday’s head and asked Mike if he’d tried putting baby powder on it. Mike spat at him to mind his own business and went back to the knot. He managed it get it untangled and the shoe half on just in time to find the second one stuck in the third hole down.

He just about vibrated with fury.

Matt sighed loudly.

“Borrow mine already,” he said.

“Never.”

“Mike.”

“They’re blue. This outfit tolerates only warm colors, Matthew. ONLY warms.”

“We’re late.”

“Style waits for no man.”

“Well, clearly that ain’t the case, is it?”

Mike stood up sharply.

“I’m going to change,” he said. “And whatever elf tied these will rue the day. Mark my words.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll tell the elf—oh, my bad, the clown, Mike. It’s you. Get your life together. We’re late.”

Hilarious.

 ---

  “Why don’t you move out here?” Sam asked Mr. Murdock as he watched Sam sand away at his latest secret project in Matt’s absence.

“Sun’ll kill me,” Mr. Murdock deadpanned.

“I thought so too, but it’s not so bad,” Sam said. “I miss the snow sometimes.”

Mr. Murdock cocked his head and then knelt down to take the sanding block out of Sam’s hands. He gestured for Sam to give him the hunk of wood in his hands, too.

“Matty says you don’t got papers,” he said.

Sam was surprised. Matt usually kept that secret locked tight. But Mr. Murdock didn’t seem to have any adverse reaction to it.

“No,” Sam admitted. “My mom brought me here when I was really little. I didn’t know what it meant to overstay a visa.”

Mr. Murdock hummed.

“Makes flying tricky,” he said.

Yeah.

“Bus, not too bad, though?”

Mm. Bus was better, yes.

“Train?”

Depended on the train.

“Hm. Well, if you get homesick or need busfare, you just give a shout, ya hear? You’re always welcome to stay with us.”

Aww.

“Or if you really hate yourself, I’m sure Mike would love to come pick you up.”

Oh god.

“He can drive?” Sam asked.

Mr. Murdock paused and held his face in his dusty palm.

“The day he got his license was the worst day of my life,” he said.

Sam snickered.

“Did you guys drive all the way here?” he asked.

“No, thank god.”

“Can you drive?”

“Son.”

Sam looked up from the block of wood into Mr. Murdock’s hazel eyes.

“I take two steps out of New York and I’m gone, that’s me dead. No, I don’t drive. Why the hell would I drive? Where the hell am I goin’?”

Wow, mood.

“I tried to drive once,” Sam said. “Reversed into a fire hydrant. Matt laughed so hard he cried.”

Mr. Murdock handed back the woodblock. It was much smoother than it had been. Sam was chocking that up to the muscles and the practice.

 ---

 Matt and Mike got home and Mike announced that he was disowning that ‘putrid being’ that was the Swamp Monster beside him. Matt told Mr. Murdock that Mike didn’t approve of the swimming part of triathlon.

Mr. Murdock picked leaves out of his hair with supreme patience.

 ---

 “So Dad’s officially decided that you’re his grandson,” Mike informed Sam out of nowhere that Sunday. “He prayed for you at church today.”

Sam almost dropped his wrench. That was so endearing his teeth hurt.

“It’s ‘cause I do woodwork,” he said. “He can smell the handyman on me.”

Mike cocked his head to the side. His eyes were blue like Matt’s. Their mom must have had blue eyes—or maybe hazel like Mr. Murdock’s.

“No,” Mike said. “It’s ‘cause he’s also been a grocery bagger, a janitor, and a contractor.”

He what now?

“He wants to know why you aren’t in college.”

Oh. well—

“Matt tried to explain, but you know, it ain’t clickin’. He don’t get the politics part of things sometimes. Gets confused why people make such a big deal when there’s obvious solutions in front of ‘em. It’s not all his fault, he barely got a highschool diploma back when ‘critical thinking’ wasn’t even a testing category. Anyways, he wants you to go to college. Thinks you’re too smart to be pushin’ paper.”

Sam was going to cry.

“I think he sees a lot of Matt in you,” Mike said with a squint. “So just as a warning, he’s unbearable. Always—well, no. More like 95% of the year. He’s alright around New Years when he’s tired. You can tell him to fuck off at any time, though.”

No, no. It was okay. It was nice to have…more family. That’s what it was.

“I hope you know what this means, Samuel,” Mike said.

Mmm no?

Mike’s hand clasped his shoulder.

“You can call me ‘uncle,’” he said.

Ah.

No, thanks.

 ---

 Foggy and Kirsten couldn’t look at Sam without bursting into merciless laughter, which Sam had realized was a result of Mike’s vocal distress at his rejected offer of uncle-dom. Sam didn’t know what to tell him.

Mr. Murdock was nice. Enormous, yes, but very well meaning and gentle. His and Sam’s priorities and experience in life aligned neatly and Sam was slightly charmed by the way that he expressed himself verbally only to Matt and Mike.

Sam also didn’t hate Mike. He just didn’t want him to have uncle privileges. He didn’t see what was difficult about this.

“Mike’s got a history of rejection,” Foggy said. “And by that, I mean that every woman on the eastern seaboard has rejected him and he tries anyways.”

 ---

 Matt came downstairs and told Sam to ignore everything Mike said to him all day. He also said that they were going out that night, so don’t burn fingers on the soldering iron.

Sam saluted in acknowledgement.

Forty minutes later there was a rap at his door followed by Mike saying through it that he wanted to show Sam something.

Sam did not open the door.

He heard Matt’s name being cursed on the other side.

 ---

 Twenty minutes later there was another knock, this time with Mike saying that Mr. Murdock wanted to bond with Sam.

Sam nudged open his curtains and squinted hard into the backyard where he could see the vague shape of Matt chatting to his dad on the deck stairs, both apparently having a beer and shooting the shit.

This was a scam.

Sam would not be scammed.

He went back to the suit.

There was more cursing outside the door.

 ---

 About half an hour later, there was a knock, followed by Mr. Murdock’s voice this time, asking Sam if his shoes were supposed to be on the front porch.

They were not.

This was playing dirty.

Sam ventured out to go right this wrong and ended up outside on the front porch with the conman himself. Mike closed the door after him triumphantly and proceeded to get them both locked out.

“Are you supposed to be a good conman or?” Sam asked.

Mike gaped at him.

“The best conman,” he said. “Don’t worry, kid, I’ve broken into a thousand houses and won two horses. I’ve got this.”

That was not comforting. Sam was not comforted.

“First, we gotta test all the windows, and, failing that, we get a rock or a gun,” Mike told him with a knowing finger.

Sam blinked at it and then up at Mike. The man’s shoulders twitched.

“Uh?” Mike said.

Ah. The eyes. No contacts today.

“Do you like them? They’re Prada,” Sam said to absolute silence.

“A brick,” Mike announced abruptly. “A brick works too. Like a rock but bigger.”

Okay, so they weren’t talking about it, gotcha. Look, a whole family’s worth of repression styles. Sam was glad that they had a full set of methods.

 ---

 Sam broke into his own bedroom through the window. Mike clapped for him outside. Sam opted to leave him there.

 ---

 He was sort of sad to see the Murdocks go, especially after seeing the effect that the most senior of them had on Matt.

Sam hadn’t seen him this chilled out. He visibly relaxed under his dad’s hand on the back of his neck. He tolerated the fussing and constant hair fixing and the fingers brushing at his cheeks and elbows. Mr. Murdock guided him with the same practiced ease that Foggy and Kirsten did, but his guiding was accompanied by a quiet, ongoing commentary about the street around them, which Sam hadn’t actually heard Foggy do in the same kind of way.

It was like Mr. Murdock was telling Matt a story everywhere they went.

He told him when there were flags hanging up a story above, waving in the wind. He told him about the hanging wire baskets of flowers that Sam forgot about. He huffed a bit while he talked about lines of traffic in the street and a vast lack of color in the group due to the absence of so many yellow cabs.

Mr. Murdock of course, had been Matt’s first ever guide. It only made sense that he had a specialized style of it, just for Matt.

And for Matt’s sake, Sam didn’t want him to go, but alas, New Yorkers, man. The city called them back to the coast like a siren.

“You take it easy, y’hear, kiddo?” Mr. Murdock told him at the airport.

Sam smiled and said that he’d try.

“Take care of yourself. I mean that. Out at night too.”

Copy that, big guy.

“Give us a hug.”

Oh??? A hug??? Sam loved hugs. Hugs were great. He was—er. Leaving this one with double the ribs from the cracks apparently.

Mr. Murdock released him to go break Matt in half and then Foggy and then Kirsten. Mike told him that he couldn’t avoid flying again by hugging people. He also warned Kirsten that he’d see her soon and that then, she was sure to fall for his charms.

Kirsten said that she would be waiting with bated breath, and then that was it. Three Murdocks again whittled down to one.

“God, I should have married your dad,” Foggy moaned.

Matt laughed at him.

“He’s plenty busy avoiding the gaze of every person over sixty in his building. Let him live,”  he said. “Sam? Not too traumatized, I hope?”

Mm. Not so bad.

“Are you sure Mike’s your brother?” he asked.

“Unfortunately.”

Too bad.

“It’s fine, if we ever need a guy to distract the police, we’ve got him on retainer.”

That was true.

“They’ll come back?” Sam asked.

Matt paused before feeling for his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said. “Or we’ll go to them. I think you’d enjoy watching them in their natural environment.”

 -----------

Hope that’s something for you anon!! I also hope you feel better!

[tilions]

hey! yo! you mind talking a bit more about the extended fëanorian family ocs you have? how many there are, how they’re related, when they’re born, the rough arc of their life?

Hello thank you for your ask! No I don't mind talking about them at all! I love them all very much but please be prepared that this is going to be a long one and that I couldn't even fit everything I want to talk about in here

I have talked about Maglor's, Caranthir's and Curufin's wives before so I left them out on purpose. So I'm just going to talk about the third and fourth generation here.

If you exclude Elrond and Elros Maglor and his wife Cellin have four children and in order of their birth their names are Gilloth, Nelladon, Gilrin and Belegur. Gilloth has a son named Arrod, none of the other three are married or have children. Curufin and his wife Aiwë have one more child besides Celebrimbor, Aracundo. Celebrimbor himself has a son named Aenion. Caranthir and Calairie remain childless. I'm not sure yet where Gil-Galad belongs family wise in my headcanon but let's just assume he's Orodreth's son for convenience.

I don't exactly have stories for them all. Aracundo, Nelladon and Aenion are probably the most fleshed out one's when it comes to their stories but I love them all regardless.

A badly drawn family tree for reference. If you want some more details there are about 2k words of bullet points under the cut :)

Gilloth

Daughter of one of Maedhros's guards and Maglor's second in command

Born some time before the Nirnaeth Arnoediad

Both her parents die in the Nirnaeth, and she is taken in by Maglor and his wife Cellin and is raised as their daughter

Loses her voice during the War of Wrath but refuses to tell anyone how it happened (possible Trauma related?)

Helps Celebrimbor run Eregion in the S.A

Is very interested in architecture and has great talent

Also helps with the construction of Rivendell and moves there after Eregion falls

Has great impact on her siblings upbringing

She and Erestor start courting after Glorfindel locks them in a room together and only allows them out after Erestor confesses his feelings

They marry mid Third Age

Their only child is called Araráto or Arrod in Sindarin

Because Maglor has given all his children a father name (be they his real children or not) she got one as well

It's Tintanárë (Sparkling Fire)

She's very close with Aracundo especially during the latter half of the second Age and the early Third Age

Her favourite people in Middle Earth are dwarves. She gets along well with them and even learns some Khuzdul from Narvi because she can't just reveal the secret

She is very strong at Oswanë and uses is constantly to communicate

Elrond has a lot of headaches because she directs her absurd thoughts at him to annoy him

Arrod is her sunshine and she would die for him

Not a very good warrior but she's doing her best

Aracundo

Second Born son of Curufin and Aiwë of the Teleri

Fathername: Artafinwë (Exalted Finwë)

He's my depressed disaster gay

Tall boy™ (maybe even taller than Maedhros?)

Born: 464 F.A (same year as Turin because reasons) in Nargothrond

He doesn't remember his dad because his parents parted ways after the Lúthien incident

He grows up in Cirdans care because that's where his mom took him

His best friend growing up was Ereinion even though the other is several years older than him

He doesn't have a lot of temperament and is more like his mother, calm and sensitive

Fights in the War of Wrath as Ereinion's second in command but is more known for his strategies and not for his actions on the battlefield

He and Ereinion get married early into the Second Age (yes he's Gil-Galad's husband and they love each other very much fight me)

He goes absolutely berserk once he sees his brother used as a banner of Sauron's forces after Eregion falls and probably takes down half their army by himself

People who knew Maedhros had a very very vivid flashback that day

When his mother sails not long after he remains in Middle Earth to fight Sauron

He gets much more quiet and reserved after losing his brother, mother and nephew in one go

He is very much pro Last Alliance and openly supports Elendil but mostly because he wants to avenge Celebrimbor's death

Uh… you know who dies during that battle? Ereinion and Aracundo blames himself for it

He stops speaking and becomes a shadow of himself afterwards

Refuses both the crown and Vilya

Lives with Cirdan for some time but moves to Rivendell after Celebrían sails to support Elrond

Has no big part in the second ring war

He sails alongside Cirdan and Celeborn

His life gets from good to worse to tragic to suffering

But he gets reunited with Ereinion in Valinor so it's not a total tragedy

Nelladon

Maglor's and Cellin's first biological child

Born: 1700 S.A

Died: 2770 T.A.

Has Nerdanel's signature red hair but otherwise full on takes after his mother's side of the family

His fathername is Russanáro (copper fire)

Aso has the epithets Copperhead from the dwarves, Pityatinto (Little Sparkle) from his grandfather and Tyalmahto (Toymaker) from the Numenorians

Self sacrificing idiot (we'll get to that later)

His passion is toymaking but also woodworking but he's also a great singer and loves storytelling

For every new baby family member he makes an abundance of toys and when all of them grow up he travels the world to make toys for the children of other families

The only members of his own family to never receive a toy from him are his younger brother Belegur, as well as his cousins on his mother's side of the family (all of them are born after his death)

A very good boy, only wants to make the people happy

He finds Aenion again with the dwarves of Erebor after they establish their kingdom there

Tries to talk him into visiting their family but stays unsuccessful until his death

Speaking of his death and self sacrificing

He dies during Smaugs attack on Erebor while he tries to make time for Thrain and Thror to escape. He faces Smaug in the throne room with nothing more than a iron shield on him

And burns

He fully knew he was going to die but he did it for his friends

Probably aroace

Also the first member of the House of Fëanor to get re-embodied

Gilrin

Maglor's and Cellin's only biological daughter and Fëanor's only biological granddaughter

Born: 20 T.A.

Like Celegorm she takes after Miriel in terms of appearance but inherited her grandfather Tinwës blonde hair

Not the tallest but still like half an inch taller than Fëanor and Curufin

Has a lot of artistic talent and can paint life like images

She painted the wall painting of Isildur cutting of Sauron's finger only with a very bad sketch from Glorfindel and a mental image provided by Galadriel as a reference

Basically always happy and smiling

Hates it when she has one-sided conversations, feels like she's intruding somehow

Celebrían is her big idol and she was devastated when she got hurt and had to sail

Was even more devastated after Nelladons death and isolated herself for a while

Starts traveling with Gildor and his group from that point on to get some distraction and is among the elves who meet Frodo, Pippin and Sam in the Shire

Will not sail until her parents do

Does her best to support Aragorn as the new king of Gondor because she feels like that's what's she owes to Elrond and partially also Elros even though she never met him

The most Avarian out of her siblings

Belegur

Finwë 2.0

Seriously the boy looks like Finwë as much as Arwen looks like Lúthien

People find it quite disturbing (People are Maglor, Glorfindel and Cirdan)

Fathername: Cuináro (living fire)

Born: either 3019 T.A. or somewhere between 10 and 50 Fourth Age

Youngest member of the House of Fëanor even younger than his youngest nephew

Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen and Arrod call him little uncle and he hates it (he loves it but pretends he hates it)

Spends most of his childhood in Gondor because his parents moved the like almost immediately to be with Aragorn and Arwen

Has a deeper connection to men than all of his other siblings (aside from Elros for obvious reasons)

He feels weird when he sees his best friends from childhood grow up, get children and then see those grow up and have children of their own all while he himself is still a child/teenager/going adult

When Elfwinë's son Éomund II. who he was closest with dies, Belegur is devastated

His relationship with mortality becomes rather complicated afterwards

Dedicated scholar and historian

Also only sails when his parents will

Has a very easy time befriending people

Probably the best warrior out of his biological siblings just because Gilrin hates fighting and Nelladon just doesn't care about weapons

In possession of the one Feanorian Braincell might as well have inherited it from his mother)

Aenion

Celebrimbor's son

Born somewhere between 1620 and 1680 S.A

I have no idea who his mother is, any suggestions?

Thought about making him the love child of Tyelpë and Annatar but this feels kinda weird but also hilarious

Looks like Curufin acts like Caranthir

Cantëacurufinwë™ (blame the fact that Tyelpë is called Nelyacurufinwë)

Aenion probably isn't his real mothername but he calls that himself and everyone just does the same

Grumpy cat™

Raised by dwarves after Eregion fell and stayed with Durin's line until the Sacking of Erebor (Thrain brought him to Rivendell)

Speaks almost no Sindarin but is fluent at Westron and Khuzdul

Has no interest in learning Quenya

Creative use of swear words

A Smith like almost everyone else in his father's line

If he is Sauron's child, he has very much cat eyes and you can't convince me otherwise, also the Ring would probably love him

He goes back to Erebor after the dwarves retake it and helps them rebuild it

Feels very guilty for Nelladons death because he couldn't convince him to flee with him

Can't look Cellin or Maglor in the eye because of this

Fights during the War of the Ring alongside the Dwarves of Erebor

Sails with Gimli and Legolas

Arrod

Son of Gilloth and Erestor

Born sometime after his parents wedding

Takes more after his father in terms of appearance but has been influenced a lot by Glorfindel growing up

A total goof

One of the elves who 'greet' Thorin and company when they arrive in Rivendell

Gets into unnecessary fights very often

Very protective

Loves Estel to death and is very sad when Aragorn grows up and doesn't want to be carried around piggyback style anymore

Does it anyways

Idk I have not thought about him a lot

Here and here are Picrews that visualise them :) || Tolkien OC Overview here

[jord-w-bush]

Turn Off the Dark: Chapter 3

Hey y'all! Here's Chapter 3 of Turn of the Dark! I promise that Josie and Peter aren't going to be at odds much longer. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Josie readjusted her grip on the cake pan in her arms and opened the front door to her parent’s home. She could hear her father and brothers shouting at some game on the TV in the living room, and the faint sound of pots and pans being moved around from the kitchen.

“Hey! I’m here!” She called out to whoever was listening. The clamor in the house dulled for a moment, and she heard her mom call her into the kitchen.

She slipped off her shoes and headed toward the back of the house. As she passed the living room, she poked her head in and smiled at her dad and two brothers. Her smile faltered slightly when she saw the back of Peter Parker’s head sitting on the floor in front of the TV. He had never responded to her text, which she really hadn’t expected him to, so she was more than surprised to see him sat among her family. Before she had a chance to turn her gaze away, he turned around and made eye contact with her. He gave her a half-hearted smile and wave, before turning back to face forward.

Her younger brother Greyson jumped up from the couch and threw his arms around her. Even though he was two and a half years younger than her, he stood almost a foot taller than her at six feet four inches tall. He had gotten his height from his father. In fact, all three of the Butler boys were taller than six feet. Greyson just happened to be the tallest. Josie grinned at her brother and pinched his cheek-which she knew he hated.

“Hi, bubby! How’s everything out west?” Her brother rolled his eyes at his childhood nickname and shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s fine, I guess. Not nearly as exciting as here. But I mean, we knew that” He replied. Greyson was in his first year at Arizona State University on a basketball scholarship studying forensic science. Before he passed, Greyson had looked up to Captain Stacy, Gwen’s father and the chief of police in New York City. He inspired Greyson to pursue a degree in investigation. He was back in town visiting his family over his spring break. They missed him, but Josie knew that he was on the right path.

“I’m glad you don’t hate it, though. That would make me big sad for my little bro.” Josie ruffled his hair and he swatted her hand away. They playfully shoved each other for a bit before Josie’s mother called her name from the back of the house.

Shaking her head, Josie continued her journey to the kitchen. “There you are! I was starting to wonder if you had gotten lost on the way from the front door!” Her mother exclaimed pulling her into a hug. Josie smiled widely. Josie and her mother had always been incredibly close, even when she had been younger. She strove to always make her mom proud, and become an incredible woman like her.

“I brought a chocolate cake! I had some extra time on my hands today, so the frosting is homemade too!” Josie glanced proudly at the dish in her hands before placing it on the empty counter. She then turned her attention to the other woman occupying the kitchen and rushed over to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. “It’s so good to see you, Aunt May! I’m sorry I didn’t stop by the last time I was over, I ended up getting caught up with my mom and had to rush to the show!”

May Parker pulled away from Josie slightly, and held the young girl’s face in her hands, “Oh, it’s nothing to worry about now, dear. I’m so happy to see you. I’ve probably watched your performance on Good Morning America one hundred times by now. I am so proud of you!”

Josie smiled and followed her mom and Aunt May over to the kitchen table. Her mother poured her a glass of water and the three women began to catch up on their lives and enjoy each other’s company.

“Josie, I would love to come out and see your show soon! Any idea how much longer it’s going to run?” Aunt May eventually asked, turning to her surrogate niece with a smile.

“I’m not sure! We haven’t heard anything about it closing any time soon, so I hope we’re open for the foreseeable future. Do you want tickets? I’d be happy to get you one.” Josie replied. She hadn’t wanted to pressure the Parker matriarch into coming out to Manhattan alone to see her show, since she assumed Peter had little to no interest in coming out to support her as well.

“Of course! Peter and I would be happy to cheer you on! If your TV appearance was any indication, this is a show we won’t want to miss!” Aunt May smiled proudly at Josie, and Mrs. Butler chimed in.

“It really is something so special, May! Josephine truly is spectacular in this role. I’m sure you will absolutely love it!” Josie smiled at both women. Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of the kitchen timer going off, signaling that dinner was ready to be served. Josie felt her heart rate increase slightly, because she knew that once dinner was on the table she’d have to sit awkwardly in the same place with Peter. And she hated feeling awkward. Marian called to the men in the living room that it was time to eat, while May and Josie set the table.

The Butler men and Peter filed into the dining room and sat at their respective seats at the table. Ever since they had moved to New York, when they’d have the Parkers over for dinner, everyone sat in the same place every time. Sam at the head of the table with his wife to his right and his oldest son to his left. Josie always sat next to her mother, with her youngest brother beside her. Peter sat across from Josie next to his Aunt, and when he was alive, Ben Parker sat at the opposite head of the table furthest from Sam. Sam led the group in a quick blessing over the food, and then everyone dug in.

“Sweetheart, this pasta is so so good! Is this a new recipe?” Sam asked his wife. Marian nodded her head, and then there was silence again as people enjoyed their meals and allowed it time to digest. Eventually, May cleared her throat and turned to her nephew.

“Peter, honey, Josie offered to get us tickets to her show! Isn’t that so sweet of her?” Peter nodded slightly.

“Yeah, that’s uh, that’s great Aunt May.” He said without making eye contact with her.

Josie had a feeling that only one of those tickets would end up being used, but she held out hope that maybe she would be wrong.

Once everyone had finished eating their dinner, Marian served the cake Josie had brought over. She had only taken one bite before her father blurted out:

“So, did you guys hear Spider-Man saved Josie the other night?” She choked on the cake she had in her mouth, and everyone but her mother’s eyes grew wide in surprise. Josie looked down in embarrassment.

“Really?? Cool!” Tyler said. He was always excited to hear about Spider-Man. “What happened?” he asked.

She cleared her throat and set down her fork. She retold the story of her recent mugging attempt, and noticed Peter shift uncomfortably at the mention of Spider-Man’s heroics.

“Something wrong, Pete?” she asked him.

He shook his head quickly, “No. No. Just, ya know, I can’t imagine how scary that must have been for you.”

“Yeah, it was pretty wild. You know what’s funny, in the moment, I couldn’t think of anything else but how scared I was. But later? All I could think about was how great of a picture it would have been. Him up on that dumpster with the light from the street lamps on him. The pictures you take of him are always super impressive, Peter. I feel like you could really make some major money with those. Probably more than the Bugle pays you.” Josie laughed slightly at her father’s expense. He chuckled back and looked at Peter.

Peter mumbled a quiet thanks, which she wouldn’t have even caught if she hadn’t been looking at him. Josie scoffed lightly, and hummed softly, “Yeah no problem.” She stabbed at her slice of cake on her plate and shoved a bite into her mouth.

Everyone at the table awkwardly looked between the two “ex-best friends”, unsure of how to move on with the conversation. The silence only lasted a few seconds longer before Josie stood up suddenly.

“You know what? I don’t have to deal with this. I’m sorry Aunt May. I’ll try to stop by tomorrow morning after he leaves for the day to talk with you about the tickets. I need some air.” She glared at Peter, before pushing her chair back in and stomping toward the back yard. She grabbed a blanket from the shelf beside the door before slamming the door shut behind her, and plopping down into the porch swing.

May looked at Peter with a disapproving gaze, before standing up and offering to help Marian with the dishes. Peter also stood up quickly and without a word, marched out the front door and to his own house. The two women looked at each other.

“I’m so sorry about this Marian. I don’t know what’s gotten into him today. I knew that they hadn’t spoken in a while but I wasn’t aware that they were…angry with each other.” May excused herself apologetically and followed her nephew out the door.

After the door had closed behind her, the tense energy between the pair still hung in the air.

“What the heck just happened?” Sam asked to no one in particular.

Marian threw down the dishtowel that was hanging on her shoulder to the counter with determination. “I’m not sure,” she said, “but I’m sure as hell about to find out.”

[6mommymilkers9]

Honey Bees

Pairing - Castiel x Reader

Triggers - N/a

Summary - Sam and Dean cheer up their little sister, seeing she isn’t herself after Castiel claimed himself ‘God’, leaving his true family behind.

The Winchester brothers could feel the sadness radiating off of their little sister, anyone could. The look in her eyes, the fake smile, the strain in her voice. It was always there; it never left.

People may have asked what was troubling her, well I’ll tell you. This all started because of one man, an angel really named Castiel. They were lovers. It may sound strange, but their love was surreal.

That all changed when Castiel grew power hungry, changed for the worst. He wasn’t the confused, timid angel Y/n knew anymore. He was now ruthless and vile. Something she never knew he could be. Though it showed when the Winchester siblings had found him, he was no longer an angel of the lord, pleading their lives for Castiel to leave them be.

They were lucky he did. He wasn’t so kind to others. Murders happened all over the globe, each one with Castiel claiming he was now ‘God’. This wasn’t the real Castiel and it pained the female hunter.

This led her to sit on the couch, staring at what was to be playing on the television, but she wasn’t truly paying attention. She was wrapped in her mind, like she was in a jail cell, locked.

Sam, however, was sitting at the study table, having a clear view of his sister, a frown on his face as he shut his laptop, looking over at his older brother. “Dean, look at her. She’s been like this for months. We need to do something man.”

Dean sighed as he glanced over at Y/n, then to Sam, giving a slow nod. It killed him to see his little sister like that. She used to be so full of life, happy. Now she was just a broken soul in a meat suit, ready to be dragged to hell.

“We’ve tried Sam. Nothing will help, you know that. The only time she does anything is on hunts, and that’s only to get emotions out!” Dean spoke, making sure he wasn’t loud enough for their sister to hear.

He got up from his seat, Sam watching his movement, opening his mouth to say something, but closed it, not able to come up with anything except excuses.

The tallest hunter then got up as well, dusting his layers of flannel before walking along side his brother, seeing he may have had a plan. If he did, he just hoped it was a good one.

The air felt thick, almost as if you could cut it with a butter knife as they approached the girl, Sam clearing his throat, making the female Winchester look up, a faint expression of a smile on her face.

“Look, you’ve been in the bunker too long Y/n. Come outside with us, I wanna take you somewhere.” Dean said, his voice soft, fearing he may break her.

Y/n sighed, unraveling from the blanket she had wrapped around herself, standing up as she nodded, looking at her brothers. “Fine; lets go.”

Sam and Dean gave their sister a smile, walking along side her as they left the bunker, allowing the sun rays to hit what exposed skin they had, the rest hidden by the classic layers of flannel each of them wore.

They all spoke very little as they walked, Y/n keeping quiet, but enjoyed the time with her family, well, her only family.

Dean soon stopped at a small clearing not far from the bunker. It was quite nice. An area with flowers of all colors, not a single other person in sight. “We’re here.” Dean spoke, patting his sisters shoulder.

This made Y/n smile, walking over to the bed of flowers, sitting down as she watched the honey bees do their job of collecting pollen.

Y/n and Castiel used to always do this, mostly on their little dates they used to have. It brought Y/n back to a memory as she watched the bees, seeing one had landed on her finger before it flew off.

“Cas you have your own!” called, the female hunter, giggling as Castiel looked over at his lover, giving back her ice cream cone, chocolate covering his stubble. “What? You’re ice cream looked better.” He spoke, giving the female a small smile as he looked down at his own ice cream, eating the last bit of it.

She rolled her eyes as she took a bite of her now half eaten ice cream, smiling at the sugary flavor. She studied the flowers around them, seeing bees fly past Castiel and herself.

She giggled once again as a bee landed on Castiels nose, making him freeze for a moment before it flew off to a flower.

“Hey you got a little-“ she started to speak before she shook her head, grabbing a bit of her sleeve in his fingers, leaning over to wipe the chocolate that was on the angels face, making him smile softly. “There. Now you don’t look ridiculous.”

He chuckled lightly, pulling the woman close with his arms, kissing her forehead lightly as he admired her every feature. “I love you Y/n.” He said, voice soft and confident.

The female looked up, giving him a toothy smile that sparkled in the light, making them look brighter than they were. “I love you too Cas.” She replied, pulling him by his trench coat, giving him a proper kiss, the ice cream long forgotten.

She gave a small, genuine smile, her brothers now sitting on either side of her. “Thank you guys.” She said, pulling them in for a hug. They happily hugged her back, Dean ruffling her hair some, causing her to laugh.

“Of course kid. We’re your big bro’s , we’ll always be here for you.” Dean said, making Sam smile as he laid an arm on Y/n’s shoulder, looking at his siblings. “Deans right. You’re stuck with us.”

In the first time in a long time, Y/n gave her brothers her iconic toothy smile, glancing between them as she looked back at the bees, smiling at the fond memories of Castiel. Praying he would come back like the angel he was before; to come home.

“I would have it any other way.” She said, pulling a flower from the ground, twirling it in her palm. “I wouldn’t know what to do without you dumbasses.”

Sam and Dean chuckled as they looked at the flowers with their little sister, watching as the sun stayed bright and the air cool. “We know.”

[ladyfantasy98]

Flyers and Favors Part 3!!

Hello everyone! I hope you all are staying safe and sane in these difficult times.

So a few days ago I published another chapter to my Danny Phantom fanfic “Flyers and Favors” to fanfiction.net. You can read it there, or right here under the cut!

Thank-you all for your amazing support for this story and me!

You can read Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

Danny Phantom flew through the air at a breakneck speed, arms clasped to his sides. He strained himself forward, ever further, relishing the cool air blasting him in the face for a moment. He wanted to look behind him to see how close his opponent was, but he knew he couldn't afford to turn around now; it would cause him to slow down too much.

So he focused on his end goal: the tallest oak tree in Amity Park's...well...park. At 70 feet tall, with an ever-expanding canopy of branches and a thick, wide outer bark, Danny would recognize it anywhere. If he could just get there he'd be in the clear.

A buzzing sound on his left, closer than ever before. The enemy was catching up. With a last burst of speed and a strangled cry, Danny lurched forward, arm outstretched, reaching for the tree. His hands closed around one of the branches, and he swung himself around it a few times, expending his built-up momentum. After a couple more cycles around the branch, he turned to face his adversary. Breathing hard, he grinned and exclaimed,

"I win again, Valerie! Take that!"

Valerie Gray, also known as the Red Huntress, hovered on a black hoverboard a few feet away from the oak tree. She had slowed her own dash to the tree once she saw that Danny had beaten her. She was dressed in her signature red and black battlesuit, composed of ecto-charged nanobots (rewired by Tucker to prevent Vlad Plasmius or Technus from overpowering it). She touched her helmet and it melted away, revealing the scowl on her face and her curly brown hair, pulled back in a high ponytail. She crossed her arms and glared at the Ghost Boy.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Danny. But like it or not, I'm getting closer all the time," Valerie answered, her glare transforming into a smirk. Danny shrugged, unconcerned, and floated down to the ground. Valerie followed, dismissing her hoverboard with a couple taps of her heels, landing softly on the grass.

"Sure, sure, just keep telling yourself that," said Danny. Dusk was setting in, the last of the sunlight fading behind the horizon. That, coupled with the shade of the oak tree, made Danny's glowing green eyes stand out even more.

The night was quiet, aside from the occasional bird call or squirrel scampering up a tree. Snatches of conversation and laughter floated along the air as people headed home for the night. It might have been June, but the longest day of the year was still a week or so away, as was the end of school. Thankfully for Danny, Valerie, and their friends, they had officially graduated high school last week and were no longer slave to the school schedule.

They did, however, still adhere to a town patrol schedule. Ghost attacks in Amity had lessened in the last year or so, but they were still a problem. Danny and his cousin Danielle could usually contain the ones that slipped out of the Fenton portal, but that still left their stronger enemies, and occasionally natural portals in nearby towns or wild areas would open up, allowing random ne'er-do-well ghosts access to the town.

Tonight was Danny and Valerie's turn on patrol. Once high school classes became tougher and the class/patrol workload became harder to manage, Tucker had created an automated shuffler that determined who went on patrol each night, whether they had a partner, and who that partner was. Last night Sam and Tucker kept a lookout; the night before it had been Danielle. Sometimes, when Jazz was home from Columbia University, she would take a shift to alleviate her brother's and his friends' burden.

After making a few loops around town and finding no disturbances, Danny and Valerie had decided to take a break and race each other towards the park. Danny hoped they could be done for the night, since there hadn't been any whiff of ghostly activity.

But then - almost as if the universe had read Danny's mind and wanted to prove him wrong - a shiver rippled down the Ghost Boy's spine and he gasped, emitting a blue wisp of air.

"Ah, man," Danny groaned, before adopting a fighting stance, eyes darting around for the source of his Ghost Sense. Valerie copied him, sliding into a battle-ready pose, body tense.

A familiar female laughter echoed around them, and then Ember McClain faded into view before them. She hovered about five feet off the ground, clutching her purple and electric blue guitar to her chest.

"Wassup, punks," she greeted, grinning wickedly.

Valerie growled in response. "What do you want, ghost?"

Ember's grin faded. Nose turned up, she glanced away from Valerie and looked at Danny instead. "How can you stand to hang out with her, Phantom?" the ghost asked icily. "Three years in and she can't even remember anyone's name."

"I know better than to say your name, you wannabe American Idol," Valerie retorted.

Ember's eyes blazed with anger. "Wannabe!?" She raised her guitar and aimed its neck at Valerie, who raised a red ecto-shield in response.

Before they could engage, however, Danny hovered between them, arms spread wide. "Woah, woah, ladies! Let's calm down a bit, alright? It's such a beautiful summer evening, do we really have to spoil it with fighting?"

"She started it," both Valerie and Ember exclaimed in unison, followed by glaring at each other.

Eventually, though, Ember turned away from the huntress. "But don't worry, Dipstick, I don't plan on fighting you tonight."

Danny brightened at that. Maybe they could actually come to a peaceful resolution for once, and he and Valerie could be done for the night. "Really? So you're just gonna head back to the Ghost Zone now? Awesome."

Ember threw her back and laughed. "Ah, you wish, Baby-pop. But I've got free reign tonight 'cause you're not allowed to stop me, remember. You said we could do whatever we wanted as long as we did it after your graduation, right?"

"I...did not say that, actually," Danny responded. Then he frowned. "Well, I mean, I didn't say that exactly. I guess the "wreak havoc" part could have been misconstrued..."

Valerie rolled her eyes. "I knew sending that flyer was a bad idea," she muttered.

Danny sighed. He rose up into the air, green ecto-energy surrounding his hands. "Alright, Ember, I'm sorry, but I can't quite let that happen. But I'm sure we can work something out. I guess I do sorta owe you for letting me finish high school first."

"Yeah, Dipstick, you do. And don't worry, I got something special for you right here," the popstar replied, reaching into her pocket. Danny raised his still-glowing hands, while Valerie flipped open a wrist-blaster. They waited, breaths held, watching for Ember to make the first move. Ember pulled her hand out of her pocket and -

- thrust a piece of paper into Danny's face.

Danny reared back, surprised, his ecto-blasts sputtering into nothingness. He grabbed the paper from Ember and examined it. Printed onto a cream-colored paper, blue and black lettering exclaimed:

You're Invited!

To: Danny Phantom's Graduation Party

Where: Ember McLain's lair, the Ghost Zone

When: Saturday, 2pm

Requirements: You're capable of NOT trying kill the Ghost Boy for a few hours

RSVP: Immediately. Note - Party crashers welcome, but you will be forced to clean up afterwards

The ghost boy looked between the paper and Ember. Ember was looking to the side, arms crossed.

"Well?" she asked, still not looking at him. "Are you going to be there or not?"

"I - I don't understand. You're...throwing me a party?" Danny asked, bewildered. Valerie frowned and snatched the paper from him, eyes widening as she read its contents.

"Well...yeah. I mean. It's a big deal. Graduating high school...not...not everyone does it, you know," Ember said. She glanced at him, a strange bluish-green blush on her face. "And...you've had a rough time with it. Because of all the ghost fighting you do. So, I...yeah. We're throwing you a party."

"Wow. Um. Thanks, Ember," Danny told her. He floated downwards, putting his feet on the ground. He had attended a few graduation parties this summer already - Valerie's, for one, as well as Star's (again, because of Valerie). And he, Sam, and Tucker had had a combined graduation party at Sam's house for all their families - Mr. and Mrs. Manson hadn't been thrilled with the idea, but since Sam had not only graduated high school (something they'd feared their rebellious daughter would have abandoned during one of her moods), but with good grades and plans to go to college as well, they'd indulged her her specific celebratory requests.

Danny had enjoyed those festivities, even if they'd been a little embarrassing, too. But he'd never in a million years thought anyone in the Ghost Zone would throw him a party, especially Ember - and for a human milestone celebration at that. He hadn't even thought the flyer would keep so many of his frenemies away, and yet, he'd had an almost ghost-free last couple weeks of school.

"Hey, Phantom! I asked you a question! The response says immediately, so respond immediately!" Ember snapped, breaking Danny from his reverie. He shook his head to clear it, and saw that she was glaring at him.

With a sheepish smile, Danny answered, "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be there. Thanks again, Ember."

The popstar returned his smile. Tension left her body, and she sounded satisfied as she said, "Good. I'll see you there, then."

"Oh, actually," Danny started, looking over at Valerie, "is it alright if some others come, my friends I mean? Since -"

"No!" Ember snarled, her hair lighting up in fury. After a moment it died down, and the bluish-green blush returned. "I - I mean, no. This is - this is a ghost party, that we're throwing for you, halfa. So - ghosts only." A pause, then, "You can bring Danielle, then. But no one else. Got it?"

"Got it," Danny replied, sweat-dropping a little.

"Good. So you're coming. Remember, Saturday at 2 o'clock." Ember leaned in, getting up in Danny's face. Her eyes narrowed as she growled, "Don't. Be late."

Danny nodded dumbly. Ember pulled back, nodded approvingly, and then jettisoned off, riding on her guitar. Danny watched her go, wondering how he could have offended her this time.

Valerie also watched the ghostly musician leave, a frown on her face. "Are you sure this is a good idea, Danny?" she asked. "Accepting her invitation?"

Danny turned towards her, tilting his head. "What do you mean? Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, you know...it's Ember. She's caused you and the town so much trouble over the years."

Danny waved his hand dismissively. "Ah, yeah. But so has practically half the Ghost Zone. It's no biggie. Even if this is some kind of prank or trap or something, it's nothing I can't handle." He gave her a lopsided grin. "Right?"

Valerie's lips quirked up, but she still sighed. "I know you can handle the ghosts, Danny. When you're fighting them, that is. It's just...lately you've settled into this...kinda friendly stalemate, and I'm just worried...I don't want you to get hurt, if they take advantage of your forgiving nature."

She reached out a hand and placed it on Danny's arm, leaning in slightly. Her gaze softened as she looked at him, pale green eyes crinkled in the corners. "I care about you, Danny. You know that."

Danny smiled back at her, warmth spreading through him. He covered her hand with his for a moment, relishing the touch, but then - slowly, hesitantly - he moved it off his arm. He and Sam were officially on - another - break, but whatever he may or may not be rekindling with Valerie, he wanted to make sure it was something they were both ready for, that it wasn't a rebound or a pre-college summer fling. He wanted to take things slow.

"I know you do, Val. And I appreciate that. And...I hear what you mean. About the ghosts." Danny rubbed the back of his head. Valerie had gotten a lot less fanatical about eliminating ghosts once she'd learned that Vlad Masters was really Vlad Plasmius, and that Danny Phantom was really Danny Fenton. She trusted Danny to make judgement calls on whether or not a ghost needed destroying or simply to be sent back into the Ghost Zone (98% of the time, he decided it was the latter).

But there were times when a more forceful hand was needed. Ghosts could be destructive, whether they meant to be or not. That was why Danny became a superhero in the first place. Why he and Team Phantom did patrols every night. Why Valerie and Danielle had spent last summer on a ghost-hunting road trip, sending ghosts that slipped through natural portals around the country back home.

And maybe Danny had gotten a little cozier with his enemies than ever before, but that wasn't bad, was it? He never let them run wild, never let them hurt anyone. If he turned a blind eye so Kitty and Johnny could have a date, or let Klemper sleep over a few times, what was the harm?

And if this party really was an excuse to ambush him or something - well, then he would just have to remind the Ghost Zone who was the boss.

Danny smiled at Valerie, who still looked concerned. "It's fine, Val. Don't worry about it." He rose up into the air, merging his legs into a wispy tail. "Let's head in for tonight, alright? Sam said we could watch a movie at her house after we finish."

Valerie stared at him for a few more seconds, before she nodded, a reluctant smile on her face. "Yeah. Sounds good."

She put her helmet back on and activated her hoverboard. Danny waited until she was in the air, and then the two of them sped off towards their friend's house.

...

Saturday rolled around quickly enough, and at 1:45pm, Danny and Dani stood in front of the Fenton portal.

Dani rocked back and forth on her purple sneakers. She was wearing a dark purple tank top and black shorts, her black hair pulled into a loose ponytail. "I'm so excited! Going to Ember's for a party? This is gonna be so fun!"

Danny chuckled. "Yeah, well, don't get too carried away, alright? Honestly, this could still be a trap."

Dani rolled her eyes. "Please. Faking a graduation party and ambushing you is so not Ember's style. Walker's, maybe, but no one else's."

"Yeah, that's what I said." Danny had reassured his friends of the same thing countless times over the last few days.

From one of the workbenches came an angry rattling sound. Both halfas turned to see a white and green Fenton thermos shaking in a glass container. It currently contained Skulker, and probably would for the rest of the summer. Dani had insisted on it, since he'd so blatantly ignored Danny's request to not bother him during finals.

Danielle stuck her tongue out at the thermos, then turned to her cousin. "Come on, let's go already!"

"Alright, alright." Danny chuckled once more. Then, gathering his energy, he exclaimed, "Going Ghost!"

Danielle grinned as two white rings appeared around her cousin, transforming him into Danny Phantom. A second later, she let the transformation wash over her, and then there were two Phantoms standing in the lab - black and white jumpsuits replacing their regular clothes, black hair dyed white and blue eyes now a glowing green.

Danny floated over to the portal opener and pressed his thumb into the DNA scan. A mechanical grating sound was heard, and then the portal opened, revealing the swirling green vortex that led to the Ghost Zone.

Danielle joined Danny in the air, and then both Phantoms flew from one end of the portal to the other, leaving the human world behind.

[room-of-torture]

Father’s Day

“Hey Dad, it’s Father’s day again. We are here to let you know that we love you and that we miss you.”

I miss you so much, I am sorry Sensei...

Staring at the photo of Splinter above his grave, Leonardo gave a smile. A small sad one but there was a smile upon his lips. It was hard not to feel this way when remembering that he was gone. It still hurts, when does it stop hurting?

Kneeling down on one knee and setting down a bouquet of his father’s favorite flowers, Chrysanthemums, the blue mask turtle gave a quiet sigh. Bowing his head in respect “We hope you are at peace. I hope you are still proud of us throughout these years that have passed...” He said softly, still smiling.

“Of course he is” Mikey chimed in as he kneeled next to Leo and settled a hand on his shoulder. His smile was brighter then that of his brother but his baby blue eyes showed a hint of sadness. Of course he missed his dad like crazy, he was just...a little more accepting that he was gone. Even if it did still hurt some-days when thinking about him and how it ended. He just had to try and be strong for his brothers that were really broken after his death.

“We’ve sticked together for this long haven’t we?” Mikey asked, his eyes growing softer as he noticed his eldest brother’s shoulder slightly slump while he nodded in agreement. Looking back at his two brothers whom stood behind him awkwardly in silence, he continued to smile. “He’s always said that we could overcome anything as long as we worked as a team. We wouldn’t be here in one piece if it wasn’t because of Leo’s level-headedness and his fearless leadership, Raph’s strong instincts and his protective nature and Donnie’s amazing logic and support. It’s helped this family stay whole for so long.”

“As well as your kind compassion, determination and your ridiculous sense of humor-has also been an important part that’s helped keep this mess of a family together. Do not forget that, Mikey.” Donnie added in, voice was low but loud enough to be heard. His deep honey eyes glanced at his younger brother who gave him a big grateful smile as a Thanks towards the tallest turtle. In return he gave him a nod and stayed silent after that.

Although Donatello did not show much emotion at that moment, his eyes told otherwise. His heart was there, it was louder then his own voice. It did ache every time he took a glance at their father’s photo. He missed him deeply just as much as his brothers and there were times he wished this was all just a nightmare that he was desperately waiting to wake up from. But...sadly that wasn’t the case. This was all very much real, and they had to keep trying to move forward.

Raphael lowly hummed as his way of agreeing with some of the things his brothers were saying. Though he did not agree that he himself has done something to help his family when in-fact he feels like he hasn’t done enough for them. He pushed that dark thought aside as he didn’t wish to talk about it. He better expressed himself through actions then words and his brothers have gotten used of this side of him and did their best at not to push him about it. He was grateful for that.

Pulling out his lighter and leaning down to burn the incense sticks, he gave a long sigh through his nose. After a few seconds of burning he blew out the fire and quietly took in the fragrance the sticks gave out. The earthy and cool scent always reminded him of Splinter’s personal garden that he built himself. Leo was brave and more responsible one to take some of his plants and keep caring for them. To keep another memory of him alive. Although gardening was not his thing, he in private, appreciated that his brother kept that going for so long. The brute will admit, whenever he missed that familiar scent he would always sneak into Leo’s room when he was away-just to be near the garden. His garden.

God did he miss the old man...”Happy Father’s Day, Dad.” Raph blurted out.

“Happy Father’s day Dad” The brothers said right after him.

================

A little bonus:

“Welcome back boys. I hope your trip back was safe?” Sam smiled, watching as the first to walk by without a word was Donatello and Raphael. “I left warm meals in your rooms, let me know if you need something.” She said while the two quiet turtles continued to walk away in silence. As to be expected from those two but, she respected to give them the space they needed. Especially since she knew where they just came back from. Both Mikey and Leo had talked to her and the Headmaster in private years ago about making Father’s day a permanent day off for their family. It was granted without hesitation of course.

Though she did not like this day for her own personal reasons, she very much understood why this day was so important to her friends. From how highly they spoke of their father, the few stories they would tell of him and overall showing the love they clearly had for this person in their life...Splinter sounded like a wonderful person. She wished she met him just once, just to tell him that he did a great job in raising four (although they could a handful sometimes) wonderful sons.

“Thank you Ms.Pena, it was.” Leonardo bowed his head and smiled. Though he looked drained, he was still going to acknowledge when he was spoke to and be polite.

“Sammy!” Michelangelo quickly walked over to Sam and took her hands in his. Smiling his usual smile, “One of these days we’ll bring you to meet our dad, I promise you that. You have been there for us for years and have sort of become a part in this family at this point.” He tilted his head slightly while giving her hands a light squeeze.

The brunette gave a slow blink at Mikey’s words, processing them before turning to look at both terrapins in-front of her. Seeing that they were both emotionally exhausted, she gave a softer smile and nodded. “Only when all of you are ready, there is no need to rush. Actually, maybe you guys should take tomorrow off as well. Don’t worry about the paperwork or my uncle, I’ll deal with them myself to take some weight off of you. For now just worry about yourselves on making sure you eat, drink water and rest. No if’s or buts, ok?”

[lightningbugqueen]

Legends Never Die

Yet another one of my Destiel fics, this time at a Hunter Bar

“Dude, I told you she wouldn’t be here!” Trevor complained, but Gary just shook his head, he knew better. No matter what his friend told him, Claire had to be at one of these bars. There were only so many places a hunter could be. Correction, an hunter could be literally anywhere, but hunter bars were the only places he could think to look. Gary just sat back in his seat and remained silent, eyes peeled. He had to find Claire, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her in months and it was driving Trevor up the wall. Back in June the pair had been on a simple vampire hunt, but the case had hit a snag in the form of a larger nest than they thought. A vamp had been inches away from sucking him dry when a mysterious woman had chopped off its head. All he had gotten was her name, Claire, and that she had been nearby at the time. In the months since, Gary had dragged Trevor to every hunter bar in a four state radius, and had come up empty handed. Sure, there were the occasional rumors, but who could believe those. Hunters had a knack for blowing stories way out of proportion. Hell, they had invented a mysterious duo named the Winchesters who had supposedly stopped the apocalypse multiple times and went traipsing around the country with an angel. Who would believe that? 

“Listen,” he finally said, “we don’t have to stay here all night, just humor me for a couple more hours, okay?” Trevor grunted his assent, and they settled back into a comfortable silence. It wasn’t like they had anywhere to be. Gary shifted on the cool leather beneath him and observed the bar around them. It was similar to many of the hunter bars he had been to recently. Grungy, oak walls, with generic booths and some wooden tables mixed in. A bar took up most of the space, selling everything from beer to hard liquors, all made with holy water. There were a couple pool tables in the back, along with an old jukebox that was currently playing some ACDC crap. Trevor and Gary were tucked into a corner near the exit, prime real estate for someone with a hunter’s training. It was a sea of plaid inside, everyone with obvious weapon bulges and twitchy fingers. The bartender was a pretty woman, long dark hair, green eyes, and tan skin. Normally Gary would be flirting up a storm with her, but today he could only keep his eyes on the people milling around, searching for a flash of blonde hair or black eyeliner. Rumors were abundant in the bar, he could hear talk of a Wendigo down in Missouri, and yet another Winchester story. A guy named Garth swore up and down he had met them, and that one was as tall as a mountain with long hair, while the other was the scariest guy you would ever meet. There were less rumors about their supposed angel, but there were many stories of angelic encounters nowadays, so Gary wasn’t as quick to write that one off. 

Gary was drawn out of his thoughts by the ringing of a bell, and in seconds he was out of his seat and rushing towards the entrance, Trevor slowly trailing behind. There she was! Claire! A grim and almost embarrassed look on her face, Claire stepped through the entryway, but before Gary could sprint up to her, he pulled up short. Behind her towered two giants of a man, one with bright green eyes and a scowl on his face, the other excitedly pushing his long hair back from his eyes. 

“Garth!” The shorter one yelled, startling the scrawny man from his story. The second he caught sight of who had called his name, however, his face split with a grin and he turned back to his table. 

“See!” he practically yelled, “There they are! I told you they were real!” As the shorter man and Claire stalked towards Garth, the tallest of the group made his way to the bar to order drinks. 

“Dude,” said the man who went with Claire, “You said there was a rugaru up here. I don’t see any monsters, just a bunch of idiots drinking beer.” 

“Yeah, I know Dean, but none of them believed me!” the man, Dean, just grunted. “Listen, you don’t have to stay long, just confirm your existence to all these nice hunters, and you can be on your way. Anyways, Sammy seems pretty happy to be here.” Dean looked around and caught sight of the tall man’s face, flushed and grinning wildly. 

“Only I get to call him Sammy” was all Dean said, then he grabbed Claire’s shoulder and headed towards Gary’s table. Trevor caught one look at Dean’s face and scrambled out of his seat. Everyone could tell these were seasoned hunters, though few knew just how well learned they were. But once Garth got back to talking, mutters of “Winchesters”, “Hell”, “Lucifer”, and “Angels” started to circulate the bar. Trevor and Gary found new seats, and though he wanted to immediately go start up a conversation with Claire, Gary sat back and watched what happened next before he did so. Slowly, the first brave soul got up the courage to go talk to Sam, Dean, and Claire. One of the women who was sitting with Garth rose from her seat and made her way to the three. 

“Are you guys actually the Winchesters?” It was a simple question, and to be expected, but Sam’s eyes got big when she asked it. 

“Um, yeah. Why? Is it important? And why did Garth say you didn’t believe we exist?” the woman seemed shocked, and she stumbled over her words as she talked. 

“Um, well, you’re kinda like legends around here. I mean, with the whole Lucifer thing, and the, uh, dying and coming back, and we heard what happened up in Canada, so, we, just, kinda didn’t really think you existed, but Garth swore, so uh, yeah.” Sam smiled when he heard how nervous she was, but Dean grumbled something about “Asa Fox” and “Stupid demons” into his beer and left it at that. He was obviously a man of few words. 

“Well,” Sam said, “I guess we should clear the air. I’m Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean,” Dean grunted. He seemed to do that a lot, “and this is our....” 

“Daughter” Claire interjected, earning a warm smile from Sam and even a little grin and blush from Dean. 

“Our daughter Claire” Shit, Gary thought, looking down, How am I supposed to flirt with her with those two around? How is she even their daughter? Suddenly, Gary was jerked out of his thoughts by the sound of Led Zeppelin coming from the direction of the WInchester’s table, which had now drawn a sizable crowd. Dean stood up, holding up his phone to Sam, and stepped towards a corner only a few feet from Gary. 

“Yeah?” Dean said gruffly into the phone, but surprisingly the second he heard whoever was on the phone’s reply, the biggest smile Gary had ever seen him make spread across his face. 

“Hiya Cas,” he said, still smiling, “What’s up?” though Gary could only hear Dean’s side of the conversation, he assumed this ‘Cas’ had said something humorous, because Dean gave a low chuckle and confirmed Gary’s theory with his reply. 

“Yeah Cas, I know the ceiling is up, I meant what are you doing. Although I’m pretty sure I’ve explained that to you before.” Gary continued to watch him, though he felt a bit stalker-ish. It was interesting, however, because not even Sam or Claire had managed to make Dean this happy. Cas must be someone special. Gary paid close attention as the phone call went on. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine, turns out it wasn’t a rugaru, Garth just wanted us to come hang out with him at some hunter bar.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, that’s what I said. To be honest though, if he had told us the truth in the first place, Sam might have made me come anyway. He’s having the time of his life.” It was true, Sam was enjoying talking to the other hunters, recounting stories of the many people he had met on his travels, but staying mysteriously silent when asked about dying or fighting the devil. 

“Yeah, I mean I guess you could come, but I don’t want them to barrage you with a bunch of questions too,”

“No no, I know you could just smite them all, babe, I just meant it might make you uncomfortable.” Babe? So this Cas was Dean’s girlfriend? And smite? Was he dating the angel that was said to hang out with the brothers?

“Okay, okay, Cas, yes you can come. I’ll wait outside for you, no need to make the entire bar pull their guns on you.”

“Love you too, bye” With that, Dean clicked off his cell, mouthed the words Cas coming, be back in a sec to Sam, and stepped out the door. Gary, ever the curious man, crept to the front of the room and peeked out the window. Dean was just standing in the parking lot, idly milling around. Suddenly, a figure popped into existence out of nowhere, causing Gary to jump. It was a strong looking man, with dark hair and a five o’ clock shadow dressed in a suit with a blue tie and a tan trench coat. He looked nothing like an angel, or a hunter at that, and Gary was very confused as to why he popped up and not Dean’s girlfriend. Until, that it, Dean leaned forward and pecked him on the lips before leading him back to the bar. Oh. Boyfriend then. Would not have expected that. Gary scurried back towards his corner as Dean pushed the door open, and when the bell rang Sam looked up with a smile. When Claire saw who had stepped through, she jumped up and gave Cas a big hug. Dean and Cas situated themselves across from Sam and Claire in the booth, and Cas turned to looked at the crowd of people staring at him. Gary noticed that his eyes were startlingly blue. 

“Um, hi” he said, his voice at least an active deeper than Gary would have expected. 

“Who are you?” asked the same woman who had broken the ice with Sam, and Cas turned to Dean with a questioning look on his face. Dean leaned forward and whispered something in his ear, and when Cas turned back to the group he had a determined look in his eyes. 

“My named is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord.” Both Dean and Sam snorted for some reason, though several people in the crowd gasped. 

“Really?” Trevor asked, incredulous. Gary, however, believed him wholeheartedly. He had seen Castiel appear in the parking lot, few monsters could do that. 

“Yep,” Dean said, “Now, as much as we love answering all of your questions, I would really like to eat a burger and then get a good nights sleep.” As several people grumbled and turned away, Gary saw Castiel lean over and whisper something in Dean’s ear that caused the hunter to flush bright pink. Gary could guess that it wasn’t something exactly child-friendly. Sam got up with a pointed look at the two and headed towards the bar, Claire following him. Gary decided to take a chance and try and talk to them. He quickly moved forward and slid into the recently vacated seat. 

“Listen buddy, I don’t really feel like kicking your ass right now, but I will if I need to,” Gary just nodded and said what he knew would catch their attention. 

“So, you two are like, dating?” Dean choked on his burger.

“Yes,” said Castiel, “But I am unclear on how you know that. Did Dean tell you?” 

“No, I didn’t. I’m curious too Cas, how do you know?” he glared at Gary, still chewing on his food, which took the scare factor down a notch. 

“Um, yeah, I saw you kiss him in the parking lot, and you called him ‘babe’ on the phone.” Dean erupted. 

“Were you spying on me? Dude! Get out of here or I swear I will knock your ass into next week!” Gary scrambled out of his seat right as Sam got back, who just rolled his eyes at Dean like this was a common occurrence, and handed him another burger. Dean smile at Sam around the food stuffed in his mouth, and finally swallowed. He glowered one last time at Gary, muttered “What the hell?”, and finally turned and gave Castiel a sloppy kiss on the lips. After a shocked moment, Cas returned the kiss wholeheartedly, and they continued to make out until a loud aggravated cough came from Sam. Yet again, it seemed like this happened pretty often. Dean pulled away, shot another glare at the shocked bar, as if to say, “Anyone got a problem with it?”, and dragged Castiel out the door by the hand. The crowd of hunters remained silent for a moment, then erupted in conversation. Everyone had an opinion, though they all knew they could do nothing to act on it. The Winchesters were the stuff of legends, there was no way anyone could hope to beat them in a fight, let alone kill someone they loved. Sam and Claire soon stood and walked out as well, and though Gary wished for a chance to talk with Claire, he doubted he would have gotten anywhere, what with her three overprotective dads. He ended up sitting beside Trevor again, barraged by question about his short conversation with the the two. 

Few saw the Winchesters from that day on. The rumors continued, and Gary doubted them less now, but he never did see the hunters and their angel again. He heard rumors of a fourth added to their group, a young boy with untold powers, and how Lucifer had returned and they fought him again. The boys never returned to that old bar, and it got much more business nowadays. Garth disappeared about a year after that night, and a few people said he settled down with a family, while others said he had been killed by a werewolf. Hunters still gossiped, people still died, monsters were always out there, but something changed after that night at the bar. Gary found it harder to dismiss rumors as false, and soon it got easier to find lore on monsters. Some said they could call a mysterious number being passed around, and a gruff voice would answer them with knowledge on anything they were facing. Others told of a group of women, traveling the country like many hunters, but far more experienced than many they had met. But all Gary knew was that the Winchesters had changed the world, and though many may have never heard their name, the legend of the Hunters and their Angel would never die. 

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Maybe, Just Maybe

Characters: Jo Harvelle x Winchester!Reader, Sam and Dean Winchester, Meredith Grey, Mark Sloan, Jackson Avery, Owen Hunt

Word Count: 1,150

Warnings: supernatural/grey’s anatomy crossover, all angst, end of season 5 spoilers

Summary: Jo is someone that shouldn’t be hunting in the first place, but after you have a fight, you come to learn bad news that just shatters your world.

Squares Filled: No pain no gain for @as-the-saying-goes-bingo​ // surgery in @hc-bingo​ // last times/farewells in @ladiesbingo // broken bone in @spngenrebingo​ // homesickness in @badthingshappenbingo​

Fandom: Supernatural/Grey’s Anatomy

Beta: she wants to remain anonymous

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in!

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

Not every relationship is going to be perfect. There are big obstacles and small ones, and only if both parties are willing, then they can get through anything. Your relationship, however, may be suffering too much to fix it. You said something you shouldn't have, even though you believe it to be true. Your girlfriend, however, didn't like hearing it.

You've been hunting ever since you could walk. Your mother died a year after you were born, so your dad took you into his family. He was also on his own with two boys, and as much as he did not want you to, you got into his lifestyle. How could you not when he came home bloodied and bruised, or when he hid weapons and other supernatural items all over every motel you stayed in.

Yes, your dad was John Winchester, but your mom wasn't Mary. You're the youngest of the Winchesters, and your half-brothers are very protective of you. They tried everything to keep you away from the scary stuff, but there came a time when you had to learn to protect yourself. John hated bringing you into this life, but in his mind, it was better than being put into the foster system. So, Sam and Dean helped you be the best hunter there ever was.

And you were until you met Jo Harvelle.

It's not that she made you a bad hunter, it's that she made you a cautious one. While that should be a good thing, it's actually the complete opposite. Sam, Dean, and even your father taught you to shoot first and ask questions later. Jo always loved to ask questions first. She was so eager to hunt with you that she threw all caution into the wind. It was your duty to look after her. She's unknowingly caused so many injuries and accidents.

You can't blame her. Her mother is a hunter, and so was her dad. She so badly wants to be one, that she skips over steps. She's inexperienced, but she refuses to see it. You've told her this many times in the nicest way possible, but it won't stick into her head. You're about the same age as her, and because of that, she thinks she can do whatever you can do.

You grew up with experience... she didn't.

The last conversation you had with her was you trying to explain to her why she couldn't come with you to Seattle on a werewolf hunt. You tried to be nice about it, but you ended up screaming in her face about how bad of a hunter she was. You might have said some other things involving her dad that you can't take back. The look on her face tore your heart into two. Instead of helping her become a better hunter, you just pushed her away.

Classic Winchester.

She knew she was inexperienced, but all she wanted to be is like her parents. A part of you never wanted her to become involved in the first place. She's smart, young, adventurous, brave, full of life, and very beautiful. Monsters eat people like her for breakfast. You were just scared of losing the person you loved dearly. You've seen what it did to your dad, Sam, and Dean. It sucks the life out of people. You didn't want to see that happen to her.

You regret everything you said to her. You love her. Hunting means nothing if she isn't by your side. You left over a month ago and wouldn't take anyone’s calls, not even your brothers. You wanted to prove that you can still hunt alone.

You can't.

You proved that when you thought it was a good idea to go after a werewolf nest without any backup. Yes, werewolves have nests, and they are fucking vicious when threatened. You didn't know if you would even make it out alive. Maybe you didn't. Maybe what you're looking at isn't a dark sky with a bunch of twinkling stars. Maybe you didn't get your insides ripped apart like it was a Christmas present. Maybe you didn’t break almost every bone in your body, trying to fight them off. Maybe you're not lying on the grass, fighting for every breath. Maybe you're not wishing Jo, Sam and Dean were with you.

Maybe, just maybe, you're not currently dying.

Because if all of the above is true, then maybe you're not going to make it home after all.

What happened? Where are you? Why do you feel so numb? The last thing you remember is fighting that werewolf—or actually losing against the werewolf. You were looking up at the stars, wondering if you'd been too harsh with Jo. Jo! Shit! You need to get to her!

You yank yourself up from your bed, but two things stop you: pain burns up your abdomen, and a bunch of wires keeps you locked on the bed. Oh, you're in a hospital. Your legs are in casts. How did you get here? Who found you so close to a werewolf's nest? Are they okay? How many bones did you break?

"Oh good, you're up,” a female doctor says by the beeping machines.

How did you not notice her or the nurse there before?

"Page Dr. Sloan and Dr. Hunt, please," she asks of the nurse.

"Right away, Doctor,” the nurse nods and leaves.

"Can you understand what I'm saying?” she asks, and you just nod. "Do you know where you are?” Nod. "My name is Meredith Grey. Can you try speaking for me?"

"Water, please,” you try saying, but it comes out all raspy.

"Of course," she nods and leaves.

As soon as she leaves, three more doctors enter. All men, all with smiles on their faces. One is the tallest with grayish hair, the other is a black man with gorgeous green eyes, and the last one is a redhead. Why are they here? Meredith comes back with some water, and you down it graciously.

"Can you tell me your name?” Dr. Grey asks.

"Y/N."

"Y/N, they are Dr. Mark Sloan, Dr. Jackson Avery, and Dr. Owen Hunt," she introduces the trio respectfully.

"You have really pretty eyes," you say to Jackson.

"Thank you," he blushes.

"Can you tell me how you got your injury?"

"My injury?" you ask before remembering the werewolf.

"Your abdomen was badly damaged. Dr. Avery and I were able to repair some of it with skin grafts, but we had to pull sections from your thighs and butt," Dr. Sloan explains.

"I've never seen trauma that bad. What happened?" Dr. Hunt asks.

Dr. Avery's eyes remind you of someone. They are bright green with a hint of blue, though, you're not concerning yourself with the blue.

"I have to call my girlfriend. She'll worry," you say when you remember your brother and the whole reason you're in this mess.

"I'm sure she will be alright. Is there any family we can call?" Dr. Grey asks.

"My brothers. Please, let me have my phone. I need to talk to them."

You beg with your eyes, and the doctors realize they won't be getting anything out of you unless they give you what you want. The doctors shuffle out of the room after giving you your phone. You haven't spoken to anyone in a good month, so you hope you can get them to come to you.

Dean hasn't said a word since he and Sam have arrived. He's been standing by the door with a sour look on his face. Sam is talking to Dr. Grey, but you don't know about what. As soon as he's finished, he walks into your room and locks the door.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Dean explodes.

"You could have gotten yourself killed,” Sam adds.

"Not calling or texting in a month? Because of Cas' stupid rib branding thing, we couldn't find you," Dean glares.

"I'm sorry,” you sigh.

"What happened?" Sam wonders.

"Werewolf nest. I couldn't get out in time. I thought I was dead."

"You will be because l am going to kill you!" Dean shouts.

"Before you do that, could one of you tell me why Jo isn't calling me back? We had a huge fight before I left, and I need to tell her that she was right. I shouldn't have said what I said, and I really hurt her feelings. Is she ignoring me?"

Dean's anger and Sam's concern completely wash away at your girlfriend’s name. Something happened, you can read it on their faces. Did she get hurt? Worse? You haven't been home in a month, so how bad can things actually get?

"What happened? Tell me she's alright,” you whisper.

Sam takes a seat on the edge of your hospital bed. If Sam is the one talking, then you know you're going to hear bad news. He's the brother that always gets that job.

"Don't say it," you get tears.

"We were being chased by hellhounds, and one of them got to her before we could."

"Tell me she's okay," you cry.

"She didn't make it. Ellen either. I'm so sorry,” he sighs.

You're already crying at the thought Jo is no longer with you, but Ellen too? You left things off with Jo by yelling at her and telling her she sucks at hunting? Now she's gone? You didn't even tell her how sorry you are. You're never going to hear her voice again, stare into her beautiful eyes, run your fingers through her blonde locks, kiss her plump lips, and so many other things.

You're never going to tell her how much you love her, and it's all your fault. Maybe if you had never left, you might have been able to save her. All you can do now is to cry for the loss of a family who never deserved any of this.

Maybe, just maybe, things would have been different if you stayed.

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[too-many-baes]

Tequila, Bones and Bruises

Pairing: fem!reader x Sam Winchester

Warnings(s): alcohol, injury, mentions of death, fluff, slight angst?

Word Count: 4.6K

Request: “Hey - just saw your requests are open. I know in general Dean gets a lot of love in the fandom but I'm a total Sam girl! Can you do one where reader is a hunter that the boys have known since they were young because John took care of her (aka left her with dean) when her dad was away or something like that... anyway she and Sam have always liked each other but after Jess he's too scared to do anything about it. Maybe Dean helps or something or she totally kicks ass... idk you choose. I trust you” – by Anon

A/N: Thank you anon for your Sam request! I am also a total Sam girl, have been from day dot so I'm glad you gave me the chance to show the tallest Winchester some well earned love 💝 This is probably not what you envisioned at all, ya girl went off on a bit of a tangent... 🤷🏼‍♀️

Masterlist in bio and requests are open

*gif credit [@ aborddelimpala]*

                                                          *******

“Here's to another successful hunt!” You exclaim, placing down a tray full of tequila shots for you and your awaiting companions.

“No no, c'mon Y/N we have another hunt lined up for tomorrow. We should get an early night.” Sam's complaints fall on deaf ears as you defiantly place a shot with a lime wedge balancing upon it in his hand.  You’d expected the protest from the more responsible brother, your rebuttal at the ready.

“Sam we just took down a changeling, the very thing that nearly took John Winchester off the board. If the fact the prodigal children”, the way you referred to the three of you caused an amused snort from Dean, you shooting him a pointed look as you continue, “could do it with all their limbs still intact isn't worth celebrating then I don't know what is.”

“To the prodigal children!” Dean yells, holding his shot glass high in way of a toast. You happily clink his glass repeating his cheers, both of you shooting your drinks in unison. You screw up your face at the unpleasant yet familiar taste, holding the wedge to your lips to relieve the burning sensation from your mouth. Dean places his glass down, refusing to take the reprieve the sour lime would provide. You roll your eyes at his false bravado, turning your expectant gaze to Sam, flicking your eyes from the still full shot in his hand back to his face.

“I'm not doing it”, he states with confidence, placing the glass back on the table.

“C'mon Sam, you really gonna make me and Dean celebrate alone?” You ask, putting on the best puppy dog pout you could. On anyone else you're sure the gesture would have fallen flat, with Sam though you can see his resolve weaken with the relaxing of his shoulders as he puffs out a breath. “Live a little Sammy", you chirp, a testing lilt to your voice.

“Yea, live a little Sammy!” Dean's last encouragement was the straw that broke the camel’s back, Sam shaking his head at himself before throwing the burning liquid down his throat to the sound of you and Dean's cheers.

“Right,” you start as you drum your hands against the table, leaning over slightly to address Dean sitting across from you, “what's the old man gotta say about this one?” You ask, cueing Dean to pull John's old journal (the bible as you liked to call it) from his bag, flipping through the pages to find a similar case.

“Sorry, whose old man is he Y/N?”  Sam asks, you poking his side for his teasing.

Your own dad was barely in the picture when you were a child. How incompetent the Winchesters deemed their father to be speaks volumes about your dad, as he felt he was better off leaving you with John when he went on his benders, which was frequently enough that you barely saw him.

Ever since you’ve referred to John as your old man, often claiming he was the closest thing to a father that you had. This was completely false of course, that role was taken by Dean. As begrudging as he had been initially about having another kid to watch over he warmed to you quickly, as you did to him. Although he treated you like a sister in truth he was the best father figure you've ever had. Not that you'd ever admit that sappy sentiment to him.

The story was entirely different with Sam. While Dean was like a father and big brother wrapped into one gruff, smooth talking parcel, Sam was your first crush before you even understood what a crush felt like. You took an instant shine to the youngest Winchester, him reciprocating. The amount of nights Dean had to yell at you for gossiping into the night were countless, and as you grew up you figured it would just be natural for you to get together. You were certain he felt for you exactly what you did for him.

It was a teary few months when Sam up and left for college without so much as a goodbye. You understood he was angry. He and his fathers relationship had been tumultuous at best but you thought he would have spared you a thought before he ran off into the night. The teary process had started all over again when you and Dean had gone to fetch him only to find he'd shacked up with some pretty sorority girl while there.

Nevertheless you were there to comfort him when the unimaginable happened and Jess had suffered the same fate as his mum, and you were there again when John was taken from them too. No matter how you felt you could always set your own feelings aside, if Sam needed you you'd been there.

Now years on you’d hoped in vain that he might be ready, that maybe all those signals and stolen looks would finally come to something. You had hoped this time round would be different, that time apart had made him fonder and he'd set aside whatever had been holding him back before. Evidently, had been wrong. The lingering looks and playful flirting continued just like before but nothing more. This caused you to doubt every little thing. Maybe he was just joking around and you couldn't see that through your ever hopeful eyes?

After some searching you figure out the creature you'd be hunting tomorrow should be a poltergeist, and after some moaning from you about work time being over Dean sets the book back into it's place so he can mainline tequila with you.

Dean and you end up a few shots ahead of Sam, the fact he'd done as many as he had shocking the both of you. It didn't take Dean long in his half inebriated state to locate the old juke box, lining up one classic rock song after the other. You create a make shift dance floor by pushing some tables aside despite the less than pleased looks from the bartender.

Dean dances, shredding fake guitar solos and singing along much too loudly as you jump around enthusiastically, looking like you were auditioning for an instrument-less band.

Sam sits and watches from the table, grinning at your antics as he is totally unable to stop himself from laughing to himself every time you pull a face or throw up a rock on sign with your hands.

“Alright Sammy, it's your turn to give the lady a dance", he all but yells as he makes his way to sit at your table as you remain hopping about to Metallica.

With a laugh Sam refuses, “No I'm happy with the view from here.”

“Y/N!” Dean yells. Sam shoots him a bug eyed stare, shaking his head at his elder brother. Your head snaps around at the calling of your name, “Sammy here would rather have you dance all by yourself than give you a dance.” He exclaims childishly, you pouting once more as you try to remain standing on the spot, crossing your legs in an effort to stay balanced.

“That is VERY ungentlemanly”, you huff out, the boys laughing at your choice of words.

“Ya hear that", Dean speaks this time at a volume only Sam could hear, “ you wouldn't wanna be ungentlemanly, would ya?” He asks with a quirk of an eyebrow and tilt of his head.

“I know what you're doing Dean", Sam states, his eyes travelling to where you sway alone, completely unaware of the conversation happening just feet away from you. Dean gives a shrug in response.

“So go do it then.” Dean’s firm statement is met with a hesitant shake of the head.

“I can't Dean, what happened with Jess-”

“Sam,” Dean’s stern voice stops Sam before he can finish his self doubting sentence, “What happened with Jess sucked, but you can’t let that hold you back. That girl,” he gestures with his thumb towards your still dancing form, “ain’t gonna be around forever.”

Sam sits a moment before speaking, “That's what I'm afraid of.”

Your hands slamming on the table snaps Deans jaw shut, now unable to refute Sam any further.

“I have danced by myself too long boys. Sam,” you say, dramatically pointing at him with a straight arm, “if you dance with me I'll let you pick the song.” He laughs a hearty laugh but remains seated, prompting you to continue, returning to leaning on the edge of the table. “One time offer Sam, going once, going twice...” You trail off, standing straight and holding your palm face up for him which with an amused roll of the eyes he accepts. You pull him up leaning your whole body into the action, causing him to lightly collide with your much smaller stature, grabbing you gently in case you should fall. You steady yourself just fine despite the giddy, non-alcohol fuelled rush Sam's hands gave you, firmly grasping one of his hands and yanking him to the juke box.

“Okay Sam, pick away.” He doesn't initially begin to pick so you continue, “Look, I'll even cover my eyes so you don't get all shy about it.” For the umpteenth time that night you make Sam laugh, following your request by flicking through the options until he smirks with his selection.

“Alright, are you ready?” Sam asks while simultaneously pulling your hands away from your eyes and pulling you into the centre of the small space. After some silence the first notes of Way Down by Elvis Presley play, putting a beaming smile on your face.

“Elvis!?” You question in shock, knowing Sam could hardly call himself a fan.

“What can I say, I'm a people pleaser”, he answers as he starts to sway your still joined hands to the fast beat of the music.

You danced like idiots the whole song, Sam spinning you around until you were so dizzy you were sure you'd fall, reaching out and gripping his biceps for stability. He grabs you lightly by the waist before speaking, “Are you okay?” He can't keep the laugh from his sentence, knowing he helped cause your loss of balance. Little did he know he hands on you caused the dizziness just as much as the dancing. You raise your head, looking up at those beautiful eyes, the ones you've been pining after since primary school. You nod, lacking the control of yourself to make the move with any kind of conviction, instead remaining a willing hostage to his gaze.

As your eyes stay locked as the juke box whirs and clicks signifying a change in song.  What plays makes your eyes widen in embarrassment, She Loves You by The Beatles. You reluctantly snap your eyes away from one Winchester to the other, who happens to be standing at the jukebox with a shit-eating grin planted on his face. Your cheeks redden like a fire has been lit under your skin. Risking one last look at Sam whose eyes also rest on Dean, you break away and march to the table. Snatching your jacket as well as Dean’s, you clutch yours in hand while you haphazardly toss his so it collides with his chest.

“We're leaving", you state matter-of-factly, shrugging your jacket on and turning to face the boys with hands on hips.

“Y/N-” Sam’s soft tone of voice makes you click your tongue in irritation. You didn't want him to feel sorry for you, avoiding his what you assumed was a pitying gaze as you spin on your heel making your way to the door.

“I'll meet you at the car", you throw over your shoulder, exiting the bar as The Beatles taunting song chases you out.

She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah.

***

You get into the drivers side door of the impala, an absolute rarity for you. You toss a bottle of water at each Winchester, keeping one for yourself. You forcefully put a burger in Dean's lap, causing an elongated grumble.

“Get with it sunshine", you state without a trace of sympathy, turning the key to start up the car. You drive to the abandoned house, Dean muttering the whole time about not getting too comfortable in the drivers seat. You arrive at the run down, partly boarding up home, rolling to a stop in front of its rickety porch.

“Okay”, you begin, twisting your body around so you have both Sam and Dean in your view, “from what we know this is one nasty poltergeist. It's killed two people already, but there could have been more earlier that we don't know about.” You pause your speech to click your fingers in front of Dean's face after seeing he was spaced out. You look at Sam who is grimacing at the volume you're speaking at. Your eyes roll of their own volition at the hungover men. You were hungover too but they wouldn't be catching you carrying on like that.

“We figured out the bones are probably in the basement-”

“Did we?” You ignore Dean's question in favour of continuing.

“-so since Dean needs bablysitting”, you smack his arm in irritation, “he and I will distract it while you salt and burn the bones.” Sam nods at his being addressed.

The plan now confirmed you all exit the car, you being the first on the porch and at the door after grabbing the necessary equipment from the boot. With the men now present you jiggle the doorknob to find it locked. You instruct the men to stand back and after they oblige you raise your leg and send a forceful kick at it. The wood flings open, dramatically slamming into the wall behind it.

“Damn” you hear Sam mutter, causing a smirk to flicker on your lips as you walk into the run down house. With a brief nod and wishes of luck Sam begins searching for an entrance into the basement, you leading the way into the living room.

You begin to yell and taunt, throwing out profanities and insults to draw the beings attention to you, away from Sam.

Sure enough what furniture remains in the room begins to rumble, a few scattered pieces of wood floating into the air.

“Oh is that all you got?” You goad further against Dean's warnings.

Suddenly pieces of wood fly at you and Dean, intent on getting lodged in your skin. You yank Dean to the side as a broken table launches itself at him, shattering against the wall where he had been standing seconds earlier.

“Move!” You decide that drawing the spirit up higher into the house would help distract it from what's happening below, so you push Dean in the direction of the staircase.

As you ascend frames on the wall fly off at you, making you duck and raise your arms over your head.

Room after room objects are flung at you by an invisible force, Dean at one point being flung across the room like a rag doll.

Just as you're sure the toilet is going to be freed from it's plumbing all of the movement halts. You shoot Dean a smile which he reciprocates, both of you thinking Sam had burnt the bones.

A cry sounding through the house makes your smile fall, realising you had falsely assumed Sam successful.

“Y/N wait!” You ignore Dean's plead as you barrel down the staircase and into the basement.

You find Sam crouched in a dirty corner, a woman in a torn white nightgown and scraggly hair standing over him.

“Hey!” The creature whips around to you just as you unholster your gun and fire a salt round through it, the poltergeist disappearing from the impact. You rush to Sam’s side to assess the damage, finding a large cut running down one side of his face no doubt caused by a collision with the wall. You can find no other immediate injury so you set about finishing what Sam started.

The bones laying only a few feet away were already doused with gas and covered in salt, needing only flames to banish this being from the world. You produce your own lighter from your pocket, opening the Zippo and bringing the little orange flame to life with a flick of your thumb.

“Y/N watch out!” You spin around at Dean's voice in the room, coming face to face with the twisted woman from earlier. With a wicked grin you fly from your crouched position and into a neglected set of drawers. Your side hits its edge, knocking the wind out of your lungs as you promptly fall to the ground.

“Y/N!” You look up at Sam who had let out the frightened cry then to Dean who now had the poltergeist fast approaching him . You clench your teeth, letting out determined huffs as you manage to drag yourself across the ground. Just as the woman is about to set herself upon Dean you drop your lighter atop the bones. Her agonising screeches fill the room as she dissolves to ashes in a burst of light. You let yourself fall onto your back, taking in a deep breath as you stare at the ceiling.

None of you speak as you all take in breaths of relief at the case being over. That is, until Dean breaks the silence.

“Holy shit.”

***

Back at the motel Dean has gone out to get dinner and drinks for you all, you opting to stay and clean up the injured younger brother.

The gash running down his face would luckily be fine without stitches but it would need disinfecting and dressed. You pour the rubbing alcohol you had made Dean buy onto a cotton ball, raising your hand to his face.

“Do I need to tell you this is gonna sting?” He smirks at your teasing question.

“I think we're past that now.” He lets out an involuntary hiss at the alcohol touching his open skin, you grimacing at his discomfort.

As you continue to clean his cut and make sure there are no stray splinters hiding in it you become uncomfortably aware of your proximity. He sits at the edge of the bed and you'd pulled up a stray chair, resting between his legs as you work. A blush rises to your cheeks you know you can do nothing to hide, hoping instead he's polite enough not to mention it.

This isn't the first or last time you've been in a position like this with Sam, but after the bar you felt nervous and unsure of yourself. Sure, you both knew how you felt, but being called out for it even as a joke put tension between you. It's like now what had been largely ignored and overlooked was sitting out in front of you, waiting to be acknowledged. You can see his eyes examining your face as you work, only making the tight feeling in your stomach worse.

You release the breath you were holding tightly within your lungs as you pull away from him, tossing the bloodied cotton into the bin by the bed. You give him a tight lipped smile and  somewhat awkwardly tap his shoulder a few times before standing from the chair. As you do you involuntarily flinch and stiffen, your side singing out in pain now the adrenaline had worn off. You straighten up slowly and attempt to walk to the bathroom, but one of Sam's strong arms reaches out in front of you as you turn away. He lightly takes a hold of your hip, turning you back around to your prior standing position and lightly placing his other hand on your other hip. The already fast beat of your heart increases at the motion, that dizzy feeling from the bar taking hold of your head yet again.

“You’re hurt.” His voice is hardly above a whisper as he looks up at your face from his still seated position. You shrug your shoulders lightly, trying to appear as unperturbed as possible.

“I’ll be fine.” Your nerves betray the collected front you put on, your voice coming out low and scratchy as the words got caught on their way out of your throat.

“Can I see?” He keeps his voice quiet and soft, the imploring look on his face making you lightly nod at him before breaking eye contact as your cheeks light up. Slowly he removes one of his hands from your hip, trailing it across your stomach en route to your injured side. Keeping his eyes on your face he delicately thumbs the hem of your loose shirt before inching the fabric up painstakingly slow until he uncovers the already darkening patches of purple and yellow scattered across your ribs. Holding your shirt in place with one hand he uses the other to ghost his fingers over the area, his touch so feather light that if you hadn't been looking you wouldn't have known he was even touching you.

Your breaths are shallow now, short and desperate as you try to balance your spinning head and erratic heart.

“That'll take a while to heal”, he finally says in conclusion, releasing your shirt for it to fall back in place as he looks up at your face.

“Sam?” He doesn't break the eye contact, a silent signal for you to continue. With the confusion in your heart and head you had no idea what you were about to say until the words passed your lips. “What are we doing?” He knows exactly what you mean, no trace of confusion crosses his face. Yet he does not answer, unsure of what to say.

“It feels like we've been doing this ‘will they, won't they' dance for years.” The words could have come out confident however your breathy delivery of them steals any conviction the statement could have possessed. “Sometimes it feels like I'm going crazy, picking up on things that aren't there”, you say as you nervously fiddle with the hem of your shirt, giving your eyes something to look at rather than his face as you make your confession.

You can feel his eyes have not once left your face since the start of your conversation. From the edge of your vision you can see a sombre smile on his face as he delicately places his hand over both of your much smaller ones, effectively stilling your nervous occupation.

“You're not going crazy Y/N,” you raise your eyes to meet his expectant ones, your hands still held by his, “it's all there.” This is as close to confessing your unspoken feelings the both of you have ever gotten in your long history, leaving you stranded in unchartered territory. You detach your hands from his and take hold of his forearms, him taking the opportunity to once again place his hands on your hips.

“So what are we doing about it?” Neither of you follow up your question with an answer, too far lost in each other’s gaze to speak. Eventually your stare elicits his response, his eyebrow twitching upwards before he speaks.

“I hadn't planned on doing anything about it.” This time it is him that breaks the eye contact, looking off at the ground as he continues. “I've been afraid. I didn't want you to end up like Jess, or worse.” You take his face in between your hands, guiding his eyes back to you.

“You should know by know I can take care of myself.”

“I do. Hell, you saved me and Dean's asses today.” You both smile at his statement, you letting out a breathy, short laugh.

“So what's stopping us now?” You whisper, flitting your gaze between his eyes and lips.

“Nothing.” He firmly pulls you closer, a shiver running down your spine as you lean in.

He finds your lips with his, your fingers going around the back of his neck and grasping at his hair. You’re surprised your already struggling head and heart haven't given up on you yet as his lips delicately glide against yours, the sensation far better than anything you've conjured in a daydream. You sink into the feeling, enjoying the buzz that's spread over your body and the heat radiating off of him.

In a swift movement he shifts his knees between your legs, pulling you down onto his lap so that you’re straddling him. The kiss becomes more desperate as you both press yourselves tightly against each other, hoping to eliminate any space between you. His hands press into you, travelling from your hips and hungrily up your sides.

With that motion the desperate kiss stops as Sam's hand had a little too forcefully slid over your bruised side, causing you to flinch away and let out a hiss.

“Oh my god I'm sorry, are you alright?” He instantly retracts his hands so he can place them on your face, eyes nervous as they scan yours. You can't help but giggle at his overly worried tone. The passionate haze that had saturated you now slowly ebbs away, leaving behind a contented fog. You nod along with your giggles to ease his worry.

“I'm fine.” He lets out a breathy laugh to accompany yours, moving his hands down to your neck and pulling until your forehead touches his.

You stay like that a while, breathing in each other’s air as you enjoy the embrace that you've both been yearning for in silence.

Your tranquillity is shattered with Dean's arrival as he enters the room, loudly struggling with the takeaways and beer. He stops in his tracks when he notices your position. Both you and Sam were too relaxed to leap into action, sitting there like deer in the headlights.

“A-ha!” He throws his head back at his exclamation as he uses his foot to shut the door. You reluctantly separate from Sam, sitting on the bed beside him instead.

“I knew that sappy song would do the trick”, he boasts as he places the items on the small dining table. You reach across the bed, plucking a pillow from the head and promptly throwing it at the cocky Winchester, hitting him in the chest.

“If you think that had anything to do with you you're deluded as well as idiotic”, you bite.

“Yeah right. If I hadn't done that you guys would still be staring at each other every time the others ones back was turned.”

“Dean!” Sam yells in frustration with his brother, Dean raising his hands in surrender.

“Alright. I gotta get a couple more things from the car, that should give you two enough time to get your panties out of a twist.” Your groans in irritation follow Dean out the door, leaving just you and Sam behind once more.

“We are not letting him have any of the credit", you utter, your eyes still fixed on the door. Sam chuckles beside you, linking your fingers and bringing them up to his face where he places a quick kiss on the back of your hand. You smile at his action, him mirroring your gesture.

“Damn right we're not.”

With that you separate, Sam going to help Dean bring stuff in while you decide to go and be the first to indulge in a nice, hot shower.

From the bathroom you can hear Dean's continual bragging of his skills as a matchmaker. You scoff to yourself with a roll of your eyes, knowing he's completely wrong.

Credit needs to go where credit is due. While it may have taken a lot longer than you'd like, you and Sam are finally together, making you the happiest you can ever recall being.

The credit for that belongs solely to the two of you.

                                                     *********

Taglist

@musiclovinchic93​ @hobby27​

[my-proof-is-you]

Just One Week - Part 1

Dean x Reader AU

A broken engagement leads you to go on your honeymoon alone to pick up the pieces of your heart. While there, you meet an incredibly handsome man to spend the week with. Being around a guy again should have been the last thing on your mind. 

But hey, it’s just one week...right?

Masterlist

You

As the plane touched down, you looked out the window, asking yourself for the millionth time what you were doing.

You stood up, getting your carry-on down from the overhead compartment. A sweet-looking older lady stood in the aisle behind you, and gave you a small smile. You saw her look into your row--as if she was looking for someone else--before averting her gaze. 

That’s right, lady. I’m all alone. 

You rolled your eyes and continued down the aisle. When you got off the plane you were surrounded immediately by the perfect Hawaii weather. Despite the crushing sadness you were feeling, the warm sun made you smile a bit. 

An hour later you were at your resort, complete with a lei around your neck and a Mai Tai in hand. Though you couldn’t believe you went on your honeymoon alone, you were ready to do whatever it took to forget the son-of-a-bitch that got you there in the first place. 

Dean

Being on vacation was the last thing Dean wanted to do.

His stupid brother dragged him to Hawaii. He claimed all Dean did was “work” and that “he needed to take a break.” 

Psh. Spending sixty hours a week in my auto shop was hardly what I would call “work.”

“Dude, remind me again why I’m here,” he said, walking next to his brother toward the resort entrance.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Because, you were running on E, man. It was time for a break.”

“Yeah, Dean, there’s nothing wrong with taking a little time off. Surf...swim...ladies?” Cas said, throwing his arm around Dean’s shoulders. Cas was the third participant in the “guys trip,” and Sam and Dean’s best friend. 

“I can get ladies at home!” Dean insisted.

“Oh yeah?” Sam asked, challenging. “And when was the last time you even went on a date?”

“Uh…” Dean sputtered. 

“Exactly. So shut up,” Sam said with a smirk. “It’s just one week.”

“Bitch,” Dean replied.

“Jerk.” Sam shoved his brother a little bit. The men were coming up on the front desk, and Sam stepped up to check them in. 

Dean’s eyes scanned the lobby of the resort, taking it all in for the first time. Cas stood by the other end of the check-in desk to his right, filling a plastic cup with lemon-infused water. The rest of the room was huge, complete with fancy looking couches and an indoor fountain. In the center of the room was a wrap-around bar with every liquor imaginable. 

It was when his eyes got to the elevators that he finally saw something he found interesting. 

You were wearing a simple black sundress that hit just above your knees. Your long Y/H/C hair was flowing down in relaxed waves, and Dean could tell even from a distance that your eyes were a beautiful shade of Y/E/C. 

The thing that really got his attention, though, was your smile.

At first glance, you didn’t look very happy. Dean kept watching mindlessly for a minute, though, and saw you interact with an employee of the resort. He took your bag for you, and you smiled at him in thanks. 

It was beautiful. 

Before he could think about you anymore, though, the elevator doors opened and you disappeared inside. 

“Dude, you ready?” Cas asked, nudging Dean. He snapped back to attention and looked at his friend. 

“Yeah, let’s get this week started,” he said, shouldering his bag and heading toward the elevators. “God knows it won’t be over soon enough,” he added under his breath. 

You

Your empty room was depressing you. Especially since it was all set up to be the honeymoon suite. It was a really nice room, complete with a king sized bed, Jacuzzi tub, and big, open balcony. There were rose petals everywhere, though, the floral smell making you want to gag. You decided you needed to get out. 

More importantly, you needed to get drunk.

You put on one of your new bikinis and checked yourself in the mirror. Your body wasn’t quite where you had wanted it to be before your wedding. Correction: your body wasn’t quite where Matt had wanted it to be before the wedding. You were curvy, but still looked good in the swimsuit. You threw on your cover-up and grabbed your beach bag, walking out the door and heading down to the pool.

You stopped at one of the many bars and ordered yourself a long island iced tea, opting for something a little stronger than your first drink. You ordered an additional shot of tequila, ignoring your inner voice telling you not to. 

I need this, bitch, you told her.

You settled on one of the lounge chairs next to the pool, removing your cover-up and slathering on some sunscreen before reading a magazine while you waited for your drinks to come. 

You looked up from your magazine when you heard the playful joking of a group of guys...well, men was more like it. 

The three men that walked on the other side of the pool were nothing short of gorgeous. 

The tallest one had flowing chestnut hair. You usually didn’t like long hair on guys, but he was totally working it.

The shortest had dark hair and a perfectly lopsided smile. 

The one in the middle, though, had you biting your lip. 

He had disheveled, sandy blonde hair and perfect green eyes that you could see the color of even at your distance. When they found three chairs together, he removed his shirt. 

Your mouth almost started watering. 

He was chiseled, and he had the look of a man that knew how to put in a hard day’s work. 

God, Y/N, get it together. You aren’t here to check out guys. You’re here to heal. 

You forced yourself to look back down at your magazine, ignoring the sound of the men’s splashes as they jumped into the pool. 

Dean

She’s here.

Dean’s eyes were immediately drawn to you, the girl he’d seen by the elevators. Cas and Sam were joking around as the three of them got settled in their chairs, but Dean couldn’t join in wholeheartedly. He was distracted by the sight of you in a bikini.

“Why don’t you go talk to her?” Sam said, nudging Dean with his elbow.

“She’s by herself. She probably doesn’t want to be bothered.”

“You won’t know if you don’t try,” Cas added. 

“I thought this was supposed to be a guys’ trip!”

“I think I speak for both of us when I say that you need to get laid,” Cas said with a smirk. Dean punched him in the arm. 

“You have to admit...you’ve been pretty uptight lately. You should at least give it a shot. Invite her to hang out,” Sam said with an encouraging smile. 

Dean thought about it. He didn’t really want to be on the vacation in the first place. But if he was going to be there, he may as well try to have a good time. Besides, who even knows if you’re single? 

It’s worth a shot.

You

A few minutes later your drinks came, the waiter placing them down next to you. You gave him a small tip so he would keep the drinks coming. 

“You’re not messing around, huh?” you heard from near your feet. You lowered your magazine and saw the guy you were checking out leaning on his forearms at the edge of the pool closest to you. 

You felt your heart pick up a little. Damn, look at that perfect smile.

“You could say that,” you responded before downing your shot. 

“Hmm. My buddies and I will have to play catch-up.” He gave you a crooked smile and you felt yourself smiling back at him.

“And who says you’re invited to my personal drinking party?” you asked cheekily. 

He pulled himself out of the water, causing the muscles in his arms to bulge. You blinked up at him as he came to sit in the lounge chair next to you.

“Dunno. You just seem kinda lonely, I guess.” 

You felt your face fall at that. He wasn’t wrong.

“Well I’m also not so sure about spending time with three strange men.” 

“Well...my name is Dean,” he said, sticking out his hand. You shook it, an eyebrow raised. “That’s my brother Sam,” he said, pointing to the tallest man. “And that’s our friend, Cas.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“See? Not strangers,” he said before giving you a megawatt smile. “C’mon, it’s just one week.”

You thought about what he was saying. You were going to be cautious, of course. But you were only two hours into your vacation and you could already tell that going it alone wasn’t going to work. 

“Okay. But I have conditions.”

Dean gestured with his hand as if to say, “go ahead.”

“Until I feel like I can trust you, we only hang out in public.”

“Smart,” he said, nodding.

“And you guys are buying the drinks,” you said with a smirk. “But only where I can see them. Just in case.”

“Again, smart.”

“And...my name is Y/N.”

He smiled again. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Forevers:

@malfoysqueen14

@divadinag

@lynne1993

@awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​

@infj-slytherclaw

@onethirstyunicorn

@sammykb1994

Deanies:

@tftumblin

@deans-baby-momma

@akshi8278

@weepingwillowphoenix

@playingdeep17

@justanotherwinchester

[1000roughdrafts]

Reverse Supernatural Part I

A/N: written for @pitterpatter-letsgitatter​ for the request: “Hi!! I have been tossing an idea around for a bit... What if... Now hear me out... What if the Reader was the experienced hunter and she/he has to save Dean and/or Sam who have never known the supernatural existed...?” again, sorry it took so long, tumblr ate the first one :/ 

Characters: Y/N Y/L/N, Dean, Sam, Mary and John Winchester, Jess, Jo Harvelle, Ellen(mentioned)  [[ I also want you guys to remember that if the Winchester boys didn’t get dragged into hunting, a lot of things have changed that are pertinent to this fiction; their mother never dies, so John never needed to destroy his sanity in search for her killer, which mean’s Ellen’s husband is still alive. With the boys never taking the lead into hunting, Azazel never needed to destroy the Roadhouse, they never met Charlie or Lisa, they never met Castiel, and Ellen and Jo are still alive and they’re still hunters. ]]

Warnings: spn style monster violence, maybe OOC Dean/Sam, language, description of a bloody monster 

Word Count: 5000 (sorry, it was just flowing) & this is unbeta’d so all mistakes are my own (hope their aren’t any) 

Your mother only had two rules: never fall in love and don’t follow your father’s footsteps into hunting. You suppose she was coming from a place of wisdom, maybe even heartbreak, when giving these to you. Though, you had failed to grasp the concept and never honored the latter. 

After your mother’s passing, you felt a calling, a summons if you will, towards the mysterious, and dangerous world of hunting. Despite the job taking the life of your father, you couldn’t help but to search for answers, to continue what he started and save as many people as you could... or die trying. 

Your faithful mission takes you to a bar in a quaint town in Kansas, where you believe vampires lurk in the outskirts. You despise the repulsive creatures, and long to dispose of every last one. 

There’s a part of you, a part that you detest, that has an incandescent passion for this life, bordering on a lust for blood. The electricity that rattles your body after gutting whatever monster it is that week is like standing on top of the tallest building in the world, arms stretched out with the wind beating against against your chest. The guilt that follows that feeling, though, pushes you off of the ledge for a nose dive straight to the ground. 

Sitting in a booth, one hand wrapped around your glass and a pen in the other, you tap the pages of your notebook as you review your plan for the week. Today was the morgue, and tomorrow will start your search for the blood sucking bastards. 

Bringing your drink to your lips, you close your eyes as the beer cools your throat. When you bring it back down, your eyes open on a hand that rests on the edge of the table. Your eyes follow it up a flannel clothed arm and drop onto the simper, yet strikingly attractive face of a man. 

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he says with a smile. “You new to town?” 

“Just visiting,” you say, folding your notebook shut and slipping the pen through the rings. Scooting over to step out of the booth, you hold it close to your chest and smile up at him before standing, “excuse,” you say, intending to leave. 

When you get to your feet, he holds his hands up, palms facing you, “woah, hey, wait a minute,” he chuckles, “sorry, I’m Dean,” he says, hand stretched out between you, a smile still stuck on his face. 

“Y/N,” you offer, eyeing him curiously as you shake his hand. 

“Can I, uh, buy you a drink?” he asks, gesturing over to the bar. 

“I’m sure your intention are,” you tilt your head with a smug smile, “affable, however, I should probably be leaving.” 

“All right,” he shrugs. “Your loss,” he quips with a wink. 

With your back turned to him now, you stop walking. A strange feeling rustles inside of you at his words, and your head tilts just barely at the thought of it. There’s something about his arrogant manner that brings out your combative side, a competitive urge for social dominance. 

Flipping around, you squint your eyes in a smile, “know what? Sure, one drink won’t kill me,” you say. 

His eyes light up in a smile, “really?” he says, and you nod before following him over to the bar. 

He leans slightly to speak to the bartender, “I’ll take another beer, please,” he says, throwing a hand onto your back, “and whatever this little lady would like,” he smiles. 

Shimmying yourself from under his hand your eyes meet with the woman behind the bar as you lean in, “whiskey please, on the rocks,” you smile and hear Dean scoff in a chuckle. 

His eyes are wide and frisky when you look over at him. He holds up two fingers, keeping his eyes on you but speaking to the bartender, “actually, make that two,” he says, lips touching before he looks back over to the woman, “two whiskeys, please.” 

When his eyes meet back with yours, despite your urge to look away, you don’t. A smile creeps on his face and you only look away when the drinks are slid in front of you. He rests his elbows against the bar, using it to hold up his weight. 

“Didn’t take you for a whiskey kind of girl,” he says softly. 

“Why’s that?” you lightly scorn.

His lips turn down as he gives his head a single shake, “just didn’t.” Scooting the bar stool back, he pats on the pad of it for you to sit, and then plops onto the next one over. “So, where ya from?” he says. 

You scan your mind for an answer. The way you live your life, always on the road, leaves you pondering if you really are from anywhere at all. It’s a dreaded question that you have yet to answer, even for yourself. Lying, you decide to say, “California,” and bring the drink to your lips to hide your tells. 

“California, huh?” he says, shifting his weight in the seat. “So tell me, Y/N. What’s a Cali girl doing in little old Lawrence, Kansas?” he laughs. 

“I’m here for work,” you say flatly. 

“Oh, what do you do?” 

Naturally, you can’t tell him why you’re really here, because ‘tracking vampires so I can kill them before they kill anyone else and then skip town’ doesn’t exactly have a people friendly ring to it. You ponder which profession to impersonate tonight, and settle on the safest option, “I work for the FBI, here on a case.” 

“No shit,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “Awesome,” he says. “So, uh, you must be here about the Blood Sucker, then, huh?” 

Upon hearing the words, you accidentally inhale your drink. Setting the cup down amidst a coughing fit, you look over at him through squinted eyes, “what?” you say, words coming out hot. You feel like you’re breathing fire. 

“Yeah,” he says with a single syllable chuckle, “it is pretty silly, isn’t it?” he says, taking a sip of his drink. 

You clear your throat, taking another gulp of the whiskey in hopes to clear your airway, “what is?” you ask, voice thick. 

“The name they came up with,” he says. When he sees your furrowed brows and tilted head, he adds, “the serial killer. It’s all over the news, posters all over the town, everyone’s freakin’ out,” he chuckles, “but me?” he shakes his head, “eh, I’m not too worried about it,” he says bringing the cup to his lips. 

“Why’s that?” you ask. 

“My family,” he starts, shifting his body to face you. Holding out his hand, he says, “okay, this is probably gonna sound real weird to a city girl,” he jests, nudging you, “but my family, we have this nice, big plot of land, miles out of town,” he says, hands gesticulating as he speaks. “My mom and dad, they got a little cabin at the front of the property. My brother and his wife, Jess, got their own space and I got mine,” he says, smiling at you before gripping onto his glass, “I come from a long line of hunters,” he says, pausing to take a drink. Your heart thumps in your chest at the word ‘hunter’, of fear or excitement you can’t quite tell, but you hold your breath in anticipation. 

“Deer, rabbits, beer, hell, even a couple mountain lions, whatever comes our way, we got it. So we got loads of rifles, ammunition, you name it,” clearing his throat, his lips form a straight line, and in an earnest tone, he says, “and we, uh, we protect each other, you know?” he says, nodding his head. 

Your smile transforms into an unidentifiable frown for a short moment before you move your eyes to your drink. Swirling it around, you can’t help but to think how unprepared they really are for what’s actually lurking in the dark. It reminds you of how fragile non-hunters are. 

Pushing down the knot in your throat, you look up at him and force a smile, “that’s very sweet, Dean,” you nod. Scooting your empty cup towards the other side of the bar, you rotate to face him, clutching your notebook in your hand, “thank you for the drink, and the talk, but I should really get going now,” you say, “early morning, long day, and all that,” you say with a grin. 

His eyes vacillate between yours, the smile lingering briefly before eyes eyebrows pushed together, and he purses his lips. Glancing down into his drink and then back up at you, he waves his hand before dropping it onto his knee, “yeah, no, of course,” he smiles, “it was really nice talking to you, too, Y/N.” 

Standing up, you place your hand on his forearm, “have a good night, Dean,” you say before taking a few steps away. 

“Wait,” he says. You breathe out a sigh and turn to face him. Smoothing out his shirt, he drops a few bills on the counter and stands, taking his time to walk the short distance over to you. “Any chance I could get your number?” 

“Dean, I-” you begin to decline, searching for a reason to tell him no, but he interrupts, hands held up at you. 

“I’m not looking for a long term thing,” he waves a hand, “believe me, had my fair share of those, it’s not for me,” he chuckles before dropping his arms and letting out a thick sigh through his nose, “I just figure, while you’re in town, if you want to let off some steam...” he clips the sentence short and trails off. 

“I’m flattered, really,” you confess, “but I-” 

“Tell you what,” he says, cutting you off again. He pulls your pen from the notebook’s rings and reaches onto the bar for a napkin. “I’ll just give you mine,” he says leisurely, focused on writing the numbers down onto the napkin, “and you can just call me when you make up your mind,” he grins, clicking the pen closed and putting it back between the rings. Holding the napkin out to you, his eyebrows waggle, urging you to take it. 

You sigh, “okay,” you say, before smiling and turning away to leave. 

****

Groaning loudly at the sound of your alarm, you throw the blankets off of your body and spring forward. Bringing a hand to your forehead, you wait until your head isn’t spinning before getting out of the bed. 

While a pot of coffee brews, you dress yourself, pulling on the pants you had the night before. Reaching into the pockets, you pull out your car keys and a napkin. Inspecting the napkin, you see Dean’s number scribbled neatly in the corner and with a sigh, you decide to place it in your notebook. 

Coffee in hand, you rush out of the door, heading for the trunk of your car to prepare for the day. You’re not sure how many of these damn creatures you’re going to walk in on, so you want to be prepared. 

As you dig through your arsenal of a trunk, Dean’s words fall into your thoughts: You must be here about the Blood Sucker then, huh? 

How eerily accurate humans can be without even realizing the actual meaning of their words prompts you to feel a bit worried for the ones who don’t know about the creatures that stalk this god-forsaken planet. 

You shake away the distracting thoughts by slamming your trunk shut, moving your keys in your hand as you walk to the driver’s seat. Your phone pings with a notification from your best friend, Jo, who you met while visiting the Roadhouse.

 The two of you bonded when discussing the abhorrent rules your mother had given you. She’d said that her mother had a similar jurisdiction, and the rest was history. After warming up to you, Ellen is more forgiving these days, but still only really allowing Jo to go out when she’s with you. 

With fingers too cold to tap on the screen of your phone in response, you call her. It rings a few times before she picks up. 

“Y/N!” she squeals. “Did you get my text?” 

Smiling, you say, “yes, that’s why I’m calling you,” you chuckle. 

“Where are you?” 

You look out your window at the sign of the motel you’d been staying at, “Red Rock Motel,” focusing back on the steering wheel, you bring the phone to your other ear, “but I’m leaving right now. Meet me at that diner on the corner of tenth and main, yeah?” 

***

Pulling into the parking lot of the diner, you see Jo leaning up against the hood of her car. She smiles brightly, waving at you, and skipping over to your car. When you step out, you pull her into a tight hug. It’d been a few months since you’d last seen her, and can’t hide your enthusiasm for seeing her now. 

“I missed you,” she says in a pout, yanking you in for another hug. 

“I missed you, too,” you say, chuckling a bit before you pull away and reach into your car for your notebook. 

Heading inside, your taken to a booth, where you order food and plan the day out with Jo. 

“I’m happy that you’re doing this with me, Jo,” you confess. “I’m kind of going into this one blind, so it’s nice to have backup.” 

“Absolutely,” she says, crunching down on a piece of bacon and reaching across the table for your notebook. She opens the book and flips to where you have the date highlighted at top of the page, the napkin falling out. Her eyebrows raise when she sees it, holding it between her fingers and looking up at you with a shit eating grin. Tilting her head, she asks, “who’s Dean, Y/N?” 

Heat filling your cheeks, your eyebrows furrow and you take a monstrous bite of your breakfast sandwich as an excuse to stay silent. When she asks again, you swallow the bite, letting saliva fill your mouth before swallowing again. “Met him at the bar last night.”

“Yeah?” she giggles. 

“No, come on, it wasn’t like that,” you laugh, playfully tapping her arm. “He just gave it to me after talking for a bit,” you shrug. Your eyes widen as you smile with the thought, “you take it.”

“What? No,” she says, squinting her eyes at you. “He gave it to you, not me.” After a pause, she takes a sip of her water, “are you gonna call him?” 

You scoff, “hell no.” She raises her eyebrows, looking down at you, “Jo, no. Depending on how this goes, I’m leaving town today. There’s no point.” 

“Whatever,” she says, slipping it into her pocket with a wink. 

***

Jo packs up her weapons and drops them into your trunk. Skipping over to the passenger side of the car, she slips into the seat, offering you a smile. You nod as you peel out of the parking lot and drive down the highway. 

“At the bar last night-” 

“Where you met Dean,” Jo interrupts, giving you a sly smile. 

You glare over at her, “yes, but before I met him, though, I overheard some locals talking about a camping trip they went on. Well, tried to go on, they said there was this cabin out there that gave them creepy vibes. I thought that that’s probably the best place to start, and if they aren’t out there, then we’ll have to track them down from there.” 

She nods, giving you a thumbs up and continuing to scroll through her phone. 

****

At the campsite, you stand at your trunk and slide your machete onto your shoulder. Collecting a few more weapons while Jo does the same, you look at each other. “Ready?” you smile. 

“Ready.” 

Hiking up the hill, much to your dismay, the leaves crunch under your feet. The air is cold and visibly leaves your mouth as you breathe, but you push on until you see the cabin. The roof appears to be caving in, with a tarp draped over one side of it. The windows look to be single paneled and broken in different spots. Motioning to Jo that you’re walking around to the back, she nods and skips up to the front of the cabin. 

She creeps along the side, waiting for your signal. Hearing your caw, the both of you burst open the door, guns drawn but pointing them at each other. 

After sweeping the small building, you meet up in the middle. You let out an exasperated sigh, looking around you at the scattered newspapers made into bedding, and the putrid smell of death. 

“Well, they were here at one point,” you say, kicking a few of the newspapers, “can tell by the stench. God, do they stink,” you say, crinkling your nose. 

“It’s only eleven in the morning,” she spits out, “they should be here, sleeping, right now,” she whispers, as if not to wake them. 

“Guess times are changing,” you shrug. “Come on, let’s go look around the woods.” 

Following your lead, she places the gun in her waistband and creeps out of the door behind you. 

After walking around the forest for a few hours, you are frustrated, hungry and extremely dehydrated. Deciding on taking a food break, you head back to your car. 

“Why do you think they weren’t at the nest?” she asks. 

“I don’t know, but it looks like there’s only a couple of them, judging by the layout. Maybe they’ve adapted to hunting in the day, sleeping at night.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense, though,” Jo says, “why would they just randomly change patterns like that.” 

You shrug, “maybe they just abandoned that nest.” 

“Yeah,” she says, “it is pretty close to the campground. There’s silence for a moment before she lets out a long breath, walking around to the front of the car and reaching for her phone. She taps the screen a few times before you hear static. 

“You have a police scanner on your phone?” you ask, eyes wide. 

“Yeah,” she smiles. “Pretty cool, isn’t it?” You nod, staying silent to listen in. 

Through the static, you hear a female voice dripping with fear, “code eight, code eight, anyone copy?” 

A male voice hits the wave, “Officer Barry here, what’s your twenty?” When he hears nothing, he speaks again, “go ahead,” he offers, but is only met with silence, “officer?” he shouts, alarmed at her silence. “Dispatch, I’m gonna need a twenty on Officer Lynn with backup,” he pauses, “requesting for code three.” 

“Copy that,” another voice speaks through, “last location on Lynn is the Manor, sending an officer your way.” 

Jo shuts off the radio as you slam the trunk shut and in sync you sprint to the front of the car, jumping in and peeling out of the parking lot. 

When you arrive at the manor, bright red and blue lights fill your eyes. Three police vehicles sit lined up on the side of the street, and behind them is an ambulance. 

Reaching into your glove box, you pull out your badge, turning to Jo, “you got yours, yes?” 

She nods, pulling it out of her pocket to flash it at you. 

Stepping out of your vehicle, you run towards the paramedic and a few police officers. “Hi,” you say when the three look your way, “I’m Agent Adams, and this is my partner,” you say, gesturing to Jo. 

“Agent O’Malley,” she grins. “Can you bring us up to speed?” 

The officer with his eyes wide stutters out the words, “we got an officer down, that’s what’s going on,” he says. Another officer places a hand on his shoulder, presumably trying to calm him. He shouts, “the fucking Blood Sucker got her.” 

You and Jo share a wide eyed glance, “do you mind if we take a look around?” you say in unison. 

The officers shake their heads, gesturing to the house, “have at it, but we’re getting the fuck out of here.”

Following Jo up the steps, you bend to walk underneath the caution tape and head inside. Officer Lynn, you assume, lays sprawled out on the floor. Bowing down next to her, you flick her hair to the side and see two puncture wounds on her neck. Jo leans down, resting her arms on her knees. 

Looking up at her, you tilt your head and narrow your eyes, “I don’t know where this is coming from, but I have a sneaking suspicion that this is a reborn,” you say in a low whisper. “The abandoned nest, all the killings in one spot,” you say, eyes working their way around the room as you speak, “it’s almost like that case we had in Newport, where... where that freshly turned vamp just went on a massive killing spree. The nest turned him and let him loose,” your eyes widen at the thought of it, “maybe it’s the same nest, moving from town to town, turning people and letting them wreak havoc.” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” she shrugs. “Where do we go from here?” 

As if it were an answer to your question, you hear a jarring, but muffled scream in the background. Running out of the back door, you see a long trail leading up to a lot of three or four little cabins. You can see the silhouette of a woman standing by the fence, and  next to her is a dark shadow. 

You rush back to your car and high tail it for the top of the driveway. The woman lays on the ground, and when the dark shadow sees your headlights, it whips around. Seeing the fangs emerge from the shadow, and the woman out of the way, you mutter, “hang on,” to Jo and slam against your pedal to hit the vampire with your car. 

It screams out as it flies onto the ground. With it immobilized for a short period, you turn to Jo, “get the jar and syringe,” you impatiently spit out. When she nods, you run to the trunk and pull out your machete. 

The vampire growls at it brings itself to its feet, head dipped down, and eyes narrowed at you. 

“Come at me, you son of a bitch,” you scream, and as it runs over to you, you switch the machete to your other hand and wind it up to slice through the vampires neck. 

Jo at your side, you drop to your knees, “is she bitten?” 

“Yes,” she says handing you the syringe. 

You insert the needle into the bit of neck that’s left of the creature, and draw enough blood to fill it. When you pull the needle from its neck, you toss your machete at Jo, who catches it with ease. 

“Go look around, make sure he was alone,” you shout, breathing heavily as you bring yourself to your feet.

Running over to the woman, you pull her up by her shoulders so that she’s sitting. Her eyes are droopy and weak, but narrow at you. Her instincts tell her to swat at you, but she feels too drowsy. 

“Here,” you say, putting the blood into the jar. “Drink this,” you hiss, handing her the jar. Her eyes clenched shut in disgust as she shakes her head. “Come on,” you say impatiently, “your life literally depends on this,” you say, and with that, her eyes widen. 

With a shaky hand, she takes the jar, looking up at you before bringing it to her lips. After a small sip of the blood, she gags, trying to hand it back to you. 

You shove her hand back to her, “no, all of it, please.” 

In the near distance, you hear the bustling of feet as they run towards you. As you urge the woman to drink the liquid, you turn your head in the direction of the sound. Three tall men and a petite, blond woman, sprint at you, and you can almost recognize one of them. 

You bring your attention back to the woman, watching her struggle to get the liquid down. “Good,” you breathe in relief, “good job,” you say, letting out another breath and leaning back slightly. 

“What the fuck are you doing to my wife?” an older man shouts as he approaches you, shoving you back onto the ground. 

At this point, Jo has returned, and grabs the man by the arm before he can land his punch, “wait!” she screams, holding up her hands defensively as he squares his shoulders to her. “We can explain!” she squeals. 

Getting back to your feet, you meet eyes with none other than the man you met at the bar last night. 

“Y/N?” he says, in utter disbelief, his eyebrows pushed down into his eyes as he drops the gun to his side. “Sam, hold your fire,” he says slowly and quietly. 

“Dean,” you exhale, almost relieved to see a familiar face, “please, get this woman inside, put her in bed and make sure she’s comfortable and I promise I’ll explain everything.”   

Something about the crazed look in your eye tells him to believe you. He nods, to you and then to the other men. The man that had attacked you lifts the small woman in his arms, and she whines with the movements. He lovingly shushes her as he carries her up the rest of the driveway and into the cabin, the younger woman at his side. You, Jo, and the men following closely behind him. 

When inside, the man gently settles her onto the couch, pulling a crocheted blanket on top of her. He kisses her cheeks before turning to face you, a scowl on his face. 

“What did you do to her?” he accuses.

“Okay, look,” you say, taking your time to examine each other their hurt and confused faces. “That was,” you pause, glancing up at Dean, whose face is softer than the rest, “that was a vampire,” you say, looking down at your boots before continuing. 

“Vampire,” the three men dubiously say in unison. The young woman crosses her arms with a scoff.  

Jo, almost as if she’s offended, points a finger at them, “she’s telling the truth, and if it weren’t for her, your woman would be one right now, too!” 

Placing a hand on Jo’s arm, you speak softly, “it’s okay, Jo.” Turning back to the men, you say, “it’s true, though. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, shit, even demons are real,” you say somberly. If it were up to you, they wouldn’t exist, and every time you have this conversation with someone, your heart breaks a little more. 

“Seriously?” Dean asks, taking a careful step towards you. “You’re... serious?” He says, hands padding the air. 

“Dead serious,” you say, eyebrows raised. “Shit, I’ll show you the fangs on that thing if you don’t believe me.” 

Saying nothing, the two younger men stepped towards the door, looking back at you to indicate you should follow them. 

“Stay here with them,” you whisper to Jo, “make sure that cure takes?”

She nods, and you lead the men down the hill and back to where your car sits. You whip out your phone for a flashlight, shining it on the face of the vampire. The two twist their face in disgust as blood drips from the severed head. Dropping to your knees, you lift the top lip up just enough to expose two fangs.

 Looking back up at the men, they lean down to your side, “holy shit,” they say. 

“Yeah, it’s no joke out there,” you say quietly. 

The three of you bring yourselves to your feet, and the two men stare at you in shock. 

Dean clears his throat, rubbing his thighs anxiously before speaking, “so you, uh, you,” he says, wagging a finger between you and the dead vampire. 

“I hunt them, yes,” you nod. “I hunt vampires, werewolves, whatever needs to be killed, I kill it,” you say. 

*** 

Back at the cabin, you sit at a table, drink in hand.Jo stands with who you learned to be Jess and John, as they nurture Mary. After a lengthy conversation between the two of them, Sam and Dean storm inside and plop down at the table across from you, their own drinks in tow. Sam sits silent, staring at his hand as he twists his wedding ring around his finger. Dean keeps his eyes on you. 

“So, everything you told me last night,” Dean says, “was all just lies?” 

“I’m sorry,” you say earnestly, “I couldn’t just up and tell you this then.” His lips fold down as he shrugs, and you take that as an acknowledgment. You lean forward against the table, “but you have to understand that I have to lie, I can’t just go around telling people that monsters exist, do you know what that would cause? Half of ‘em wouldn’t believe me and the other half would probably panic.” You pause, letting your voice drop in volume, “so those of us who do know fight it together,” your eyes flash up at Jo. 

“How many of you are there?” Sam asks, finally looking up to meet your eyes. 

You shrug, “hundreds, probably thousands,” you say, watching their eyes go wide. “In comparison to what’s out there, it’s not enough,” you say, shaking your head. 

Sam and Dean look up at you, eyes wide, “where do we sign up?” Dean asks, his voice deep and thick. 

You shake your head, a finger held up at him, “no. Dean, no, seriously, I can’t drag you into this.” 

He leans back a bit, “you’re not dragging me into anything,” he shrugs. “If there are monsters out there killing people, I want in,” he says sternly. 

After a small moment of thought, Sam drops his hand against the table, “yeah, me too,” he says, looking over at his brother. “I want to help, too.. Would you, uh,” he says, focusing on you, “would you show us the ropes, maybe?” he asks, and eye squinting.

“I guess so,” you say apprehensively, “but I think you should think on it for a while.” 

Dean shakes his head, “no. We’re doing this,” he says. “Right, Sam?” 

“Right,” he agrees, eyes still on you. 

Dean shoves his chair back and stands.. After taking a few steps he turns to face you, “so you gonna help me get rid of that body, or what?” 

You smile, using the table to push yourself to your feet, “got a shovel?” you ask.

 “Of course I do,” he says. You follow him into a shed for two shovels, wasting no time to dig a big enough grave to drop the body into. He’s a hard worker, you’ll give him that, but hunting? You’re not quite sure it’s for them.

He glances over the hole at you, wiping the sweat from his brow with a smile. Smiling back at him, you can’t help but to think about your mother’s rules. You’d followed the first one, and never found yourself falling in love, but now, with his eagerness to help you, you predict you’ll be breaking both very soon. 

“Sorry mama,” you whisper under your breath. 

“Huh?” Dean throatily says, and you smile at him. 

“Nothing. Keep digging,” you instruct.. 

****

PermaTags<3: @waywardblueshun​ @81mysteriouslyme​ @drakelover78​ @soab1967​

A/N2: I’m kindddd of thinking about making this a series, let me know if you’d be interested in something like that :) 

[celestedeacon]

On the Side of the Angels Chapter 8

TITLE: On the Side of the Angels Chapter 8 PAIRING: (Castiel/Celeste) RATING: T CHAPTER: 8/? SUMMARY: Celeste, the daughter of a fallen angel and mortal. Ever since she was born, the angels were given orders to protect her, specifically Castiel and Gabriel. When she was 16, she was in a horrific car accident, which Castiel saved her from. When Castiel comes back to Earth, she’s in his thoughts 24/7. This poses a problem for him. How can he love her and still follow orders?

“Well, Anna Milton's definitely real”, Sam told Dean.

“Don't mean the case is real. And this hospital's a three-day drive”.

It was nighttime and it was pouring down rain.

“We've driven further for less, Dean”, Sam said.

Dean shook his head.

“You got something to say, say it”, Sam told him.

“Oh, I'm saying it -- this sucks”.

“You're not pissed we're going after the girl. You're pissed Ruby threw us the tip”.

“Right. 'Cause as far as you're concerned, the hell-bitch is practically family. Yeah, boy, something major must've happened while I downstairs, 'cause I come back, and -- and you're BFF with a demon?”

Sam sighed. “I told you, Dean, she helped me go after Lilith”.

“Well, thanks for the thumbnail -- real vivid. You want to fill in a little detail?”

“Sure, Dean, let's trade stories. You first. How was Hell? Don't spare the details”.

Dean shook his head and pulled out his phone, dialing Celeste’s number.

Celeste was asleep when she got the phone call. She quickly grabbed her phone and went into the bathroom, hoping that Gabriel wasn’t home. “What do you want Dean? It’s 3 in the morning”, she said running her hand through her hair.

“Ever heard of a girl named Anna Milton?” Dean asked her.

“Who?”

“She escaped a mental institution and demons are after her”.

“Mental institution? Do you know what for?”

“No, but we’re going to find out”.

“Okay. I’ve heard the name Anna. The only one I know of is the one who used to be above Cas”.

“Used to be? What happened?”

Celeste shrugged, even though Dean couldn’t see it. “I dunno. Cas just said she up and disappeared”.

“Listen, we’re going to investigate her case. I’ll call you when we reach the town and check into our hotel room”.

“Fine”, she said hanging up.

Sam looked over at Dean and said, “Who was that?”

“Someone who I think could help. Let’s just leave it at that”.

“Who is she?”

“What makes you think it’s a girl?”

“When isn’t it?”

Celeste opened her bathroom door and saw Gabriel standing there.

“Cece, what are you doing out of bed?” he asked her, “And with your phone?”

“None of your business Gabriel”, she said pushing past him.

Gabriel concentrated on her mind, but his powers hit a wall.

“I can feel you trying to poke around. Not gonna work”, she told him.

Gabriel smiled. “You’ve been practicing, sweetheart”.

Celeste climbed in bed and covered up with her blankets. “Goodnight, Gabriel”.

“Goodnight, angel”.

Three days later, she got a call from Dean giving her the location.

“And her name’s Anna right?” Celeste asked Dean.

“Yeah”, he said.

She hung up and concentrated. Celeste popped into the church attic to find Dean, plus two other people.

“Finally”, Dean said.

“Not as easy as it looks”, she snapped. She walked up to the tallest guy.

“This is my friend Celeste”, Dean said, “And this is my brother Sam”.

“Okay? And why is she here?” Sam asked.

“I happen to know some things about angels”, Celeste explained. Celeste’s eyes fell on a redheaded girl. “I’m assuming you’re Anna”, Celeste said.

“And you’re Celeste Deacon. The angels talk about you a lot”.

“You can hear the angels too?”

“How do you block them out?”

“I…I don’t. I only hear a select few. I guess they let me hear what they want me to hear”.

“So, they lock you up with a case of the crazies when really you were just... tuning in to angel radio?” Dean asked Anna.

“That’s why I never told anyone”, Celeste said.

“Yes. Thank you”, Anna said.

“Anna, when did the voices start? Do you remember?” Sam asked.

“I can tell you exactly -- September 18th”, Anna told them.

“The day I got out of Hell”, Dean said. Dean turned to Celeste. “What about you?”

“I’ve been able to hear the angels my whole life, but that’s when I heard…” Celeste started, but Anna finished her statement.

“First words I heard, clear as a bell -- "Dean Winchester is saved”.

“Well, at least now we know why the demons want you so bad. They get a hold of you, they can hear everything the other side's cooking. You're 1-900-angel”, Dean said.

Celeste rolled her eyes.

“Why don’t they want you?” Dean asked Celeste.

“Because she’s one of them”, Anna said.

Celeste looked at her with wide eyes.

“Was…was I not supposed to say that?” Anna asked her.

“You’re one of them?” Sam asked.

“Okay, so technically I’m only half angel. I’m what the bible calls a Nephilim. The offspring of an angel and a human”.

“So that’s why you can hear angel radio”, Dean said.

“Yes, but like I said, I can’t hear them all. I can hear Castiel and some others, but it’s not an all the time thing. Most of the time, they’re silent around me”.

“So who’s you father?” Dean asked.

Celeste shrugged. “Didn’t think it really mattered”.

A brunette woman came storming in. “You got the girl”, she said.

Anna screamed and backed away.

“Whoa”, Celeste said.

“Her face!” Anna cried.

“No, it’s okay, she’s here to help”, Sam told them.

“Don’t be so sure”, Dean muttered.

“We have to hurry”, she said.

“Why?”

“Because a demon’s coming, big-timer. We can fight later, Dean”.

“That’s pretty convenient. Showing up right when we find the girl with some bigwig on your tail?”

“I didn’t bring him here, you did”.

“What?”

“He followed you from the girl’s house. We gotta go now”.

“Dean”, Sam said, turning to look at the Mary statue.

Celeste gasped.

It was crying tears of blood.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m out”, Celeste said.

“Wait. You can’t go”, Dean said, grabbing her arm, “Can’t you smite him?”

“Okay, 1. I don’t know how to do that. And 2. If my Guardian finds out I’m here, you’re all dead”.

“What? Why?”

“Look, I can’t explain it right now, but I need to get out of here. Call me if you need my help and I’ll be here, but until then, let me go”.

Dean did and she disappeared.

Tags: @waddles03

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