#jo i owe you my life... PLEASE tell me how the hell you managed to get him

[journey-to-the-attic]

what a mildly concerning message from my dear friend jo, i wonder what it could- OH MY GOD

WHERE DID SHE FIND HIM?????

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-9)

Word count: 4.2K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: fluff, implied smut, teehee ;)

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: There is no angst in this part whatsoever. Fun break, right? ;)

The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23 the best! <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

Kevin kept stealing glances at you. It started out guilelessly, but then he got suspicious real quick.

“Something is up with you!” He finally proclaimed.

You looked up innocently from the bowl you were mixing the batter in. “What?”

“Oh, don’t give me that look. I know something is different today,” Kevin insisted. “Jack, back me up here!”

Jack looked up from his book, sweet and oblivious. “What?”

It only furthered Kevin’s annoyance. “Look at her!” He pointed a finger accusingly at you. “She’s humming!”

“She hums sometimes,” Meg shrugged from her place near the flowerpots in the balcony, where she sat cleaning her telescope.

You winked at her and she blew back a kiss.

“Did you see that!” Kevin shouted. “And now she’s winking!”

“Kev, you need to take it down a notch,” you grinned at him.

“Say what you want, Y/N, I know you’re keeping something from us,” he announced. 

“It’s just that I have an evening to myself for the first time in a while. It’s good to know that I can be in bed by eleven.”

“That’s a good enough reason to hum if you ask me,” Jack said absently. “God knows we’ve all wrecked our sleep schedules beyond repair now.”

“Y/N, Cas and Pam at least have night jobs,” Meg said. “We have zero excuses.”

Kevin gave up on trying to wriggle out the reason for your humming out of you and settled for stealing the cookie batter.

“Let’s not bake this. Let’s just eat this out of the bowl.”

You smacked his hand away, taking the bowl with you to the kitchen counter.

The door to the apartment opened and Cas came in. He looked ready to drop.

There was an outburst of excitement at his entry and he gave everyone a tired but happy smile.

“I thought I’d find you guys here,” he said, dropping on your sofa. 

“Long day?” You asked sympathetically.

He sighed. “It’s always a long day when you’re posted in the pediatric ward. I don’t look forward to it.”

 “But you’re so good with children!” Meg said.

You zeroed in on her. “How do you know that?”

“I-I ran into him at the hospital,” she said, suddenly busy with her lens. “It was nothing.”

Didn’t look ‘nothing’ to you, but you didn’t press her on it. Solidarity was the key to a healthy roommate relationship. Afterall, she had helped you out with Kevin earlier and hadn’t spoken a word about the coat.

You needn’t have worried, because Kevin clearly wasn’t over you.

“Y/N’s keeping something from us,” he complained to Cas promptly. “She’s humming, and smiling and baking those cookies!”

“She does all those things normally,” Cas said. You gave him an exaggerated bow, and Kevin’s jaw dropped.

“Now she’s- she’s doing that!” he spluttered.

You threw the kitchen rag at him. “Why are you scrutinising me with a magnifying glass, when we all should be clearly interested in Jack’s date! Why is nobody asking him the questions?”

“It was good,” Jack said, finally setting the book down. “Claire’s awesome! Hey, Y/N, guess what I found out? Her mom’s a Professor at the law school!”

“Really?” 

“Claire Mills, if it helps,” he added.

Professor Mills. You would have never guessed she had a daughter that old. She didn’t look it. You were instantly reminded of her barging into Sam’s office. What would have happened, if she hadn’t?

“You know what? Fine! Don’t tell me,” Kevin crossed his arms over his chest.

You walked over to him, and ruffled his hair. “It’s really nothing. If it was anything big, I’d tell you.”

It was true. A professor had smiled at you for a bit. That was all there was to it.

“Fine,” he gave in, sneaking away the bowl of cookie batter. “Keep smiling though, you light up the room.”

*************************

9th September 2008

‘You’ll be okay by yourself?” Aunt El asked you, worry creasing her forehead.

“Mom!” Jo groaned. “She’s not by herself! She’s with me.”

Ellen looked at her like that was hardly a good thing and you snickered.

“I worry that instead of her influencing you in a good way, you’re going to spoil her,” she admonished Jo good naturedly. “Please don’t get drunk and annoy the neighbours.”

“We’re totally getting drunk and annoying the neighbours,” Jo whispered conspiratorially behind her mother’s back.

Ellen was heading to Wisconsin for a bar owners convention. At least, that’s what she had told you. Jo believed it was a pretense for her to get drunk with her own friends.

“I’ll help out Jo at the diner,” you told your aunt, getting up to walk her to the door. 

Aunt El placed a hand on your shoulder. “You know you don’t have to, Y/N. Jo has plenty of help there.”

“I want to,” you offered, and she smiled.

“Alright girls,” Aunt El said. “Don’t have too much fun.” She hugged both of you and chasetly kissed your forehead. It was such a pure gesture of affection, it brought back memories of your Gran and the few faded ones of your mom.

“Pick your poison, my sweet child,” Jo grinned, pulling out a bottle of Vodka mere minutes after Ellen’s car had left the driveway. She had a hoard of bottles with her under the table. “We also have Whiskey, rum and this sweet mother of everything holy - Tequila.”

You stared at the assortment of liquor in horror. “Jo, I’ve only ever had beer, and two pints were more than enough to me as high as the holy heaven. This is a stupid idea.”

“In this house, we live for stupid,” Jo said, pouring some of the colourless liquid in a shot glass. “At least when my mother isn’t home.”

You looked at her dubiously.

“C’mon, Y/N, this will be fun!”

Her grin was so infectious that you gave in. 

“Pour away, bar wench,” you said, delicately putting your hand against your forehead like a gothic European woman. Your cousin howled with laughter and slid the glass towards you. “Let’s start with Vodka, shall we?”

The next day you would know that you shouldn’t have started with Vodka. Hell, you shouldn’t have started with anything! It felt like waking up in another reality when you opened your eyes the next morning. In fact, even doing that had been a struggle. The sun was shining too brightly through the tiny slit in the curtains, almost assaulting you in the eyes and your head felt like it had grown a few pounds over the night.

You groaned, wanting to roll over and go back to sleep, but a wave of nausea hit you and you shambled out of the bed, making it just in time to the bathroom to hurl your gut into the toilet. It was nasty and felt neverending. After the puking fit passed, you just curled on your side on the wet bathroom floor, wondering why the hell people put themselves through this? Sure, it had been a fun night, and after the second glass of vodka, you didn’t remember much anyway. Just really vague memories. There was some dancing on the staircase involved, jumping on the bed, and really loud music. Your throat was already sore from all the yelling and laughing, the throwing up had only made it worse.

You tried to recollect why you were in your bra and shorts. Oh, strip poker. You wanted to bang your head against the bathroom tiles, but even moving made the nausea worse. Only the thought of Jo finally made you get up and go looking for her in the house, which was a total mess. There were clothes everywhere. It was like the wardrobes had all burst open spilling clothes all over the house. 

And had there been crying? You remembered in flashes that you were sobbing ceaselessly in Jo’s arms at one point. 

Jo was nowhere to be seen. You did the only logical thing and called her phone.

“Morning, sunshine!” Jo answered on the third ring, voice absolutely nice and chirpy.

“How?” You croaked. 

Jo’s laughter echoed from the other side. “I’m just good at handling it. I was going to wake you before I left for the diner, but you were out for good. Figured you’d call when you woke up. Man, drunk Y/N is my new favourite person in the world. She’s a freaking rockstar! We are so doing this every weekend.”

Well, you wanted to dropkick drunk Y/N from the roof of the house. She got to have all the fun and you were the one to suffer especially when you didn’t even remember anything. From your seat next to the phone you gawked at the clock. It was just past noon.

You groaned.

“There, there,” Jo said sympathetically. “There’s a bottle of Advil on my nightstand. Take two and keep drinking water. You should be better in a few hours, okay?”

“Mhmm…”

“Do you want me to come over?” She asked, sounding worried now.

“I'll be fine,” you answered, quickly.

“Just keep sipping on some water and don’t skip the meal. Eat some bread, I’ve heard that helps, too.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Hey, Y/N,” Jo asked. Her voice hitched, as if she was nervous. “I’m going out with Dean after work. Is it okay with you if he stayed over?”

“Of course!” you said immediately. “It’s no problem at all.” 

“Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”

After hanging up the phone, you studiously did what Jo had said. Took the pills, filled a water bottle and then snuggled up on the couch, playing some mindless sitcom on the TV.

You didn’t pay any attention to it. Instead, you thought about Dean. When you had first met Dean, you were a little unsure about what to make of him. He wasn’t exactly hostile towards you, but it wasn’t hard to spot the wariness, as if he didn't trust you being around Sam, or rather didn’t want to trust. After the funeral that had completely changed. He had been more than welcoming and understanding. In fact, he had taken the time out to show you around the town in his car. According to Jo it was super rare of him and that he must really like you. His words from the graveyard came back to you. “You have to take care of yourself first, before you can take care of anyone else.” It had been just for your ears, and you knew exactly who he had been hinting towards.

You wondered idly, if you’d had a big brother, would he have been just as protective of you as Dean was of Sam? But Dean wasn’t just Sam’s brother, he was more than that, he was also a parent. Must have been awful to be the responsible one since such a small age and then doing such a great job. Look at how Sam had turned out to be.

You sighed, readjusting yourself. You so wanted to call Sam, but didn’t want to disturb him when he was busy studying for the Bar. You had taken to dropping by their place in the mornings with food. It made you feel like one of those evil scientists, because Dean’s face would light up the moment he saw you, expecting the pie. It was all really cute. Sam’s eyes, however, were only reserved for you. There was so much longing in them that it made your legs weak. The moment he saw you, though, the longing would be replaced by purest of joys. You would run to him and he’d catch up in his arms, kissing you soundly each time. That feeling, of being so wanted, was the best thing in your life right now. 

It was always the little things. How he never touched you without being completely sure that it was what you wanted. The first night you had stayed over, you had woken up in the middle of the night to find him sleeping on the carpet below you. The sight would have melted the hardest of hearts.

You didn’t know what most couples did, had nothing to compare this with, but Sam was definitely different. He read to you. He would open his textbooks, and read out loud cases and laws and proceedings. You didn’t understand much, but you loved to see him so immersed in it, his deep voice had become an anchor, steadying your life around it.

Once, after much persuasion, he had obliged you by playing a piece of Chopin on the Grand Piano. He said he was rusty, since he had been out of practice for so long, only having started playing again recently. You didn’t understand classical music. Whatever he played, it was all lovely.

On Sundays you would go to the park with picnic baskets, and you would rant about the ducks endlessly. Sometimes Dean and Jo would join you, but mostly it was just the two of you, stealing quiet moments. The soft touch of his rough hands drove you mad sometimes, but he never did anything more than kiss you. At first you wondered if he didn’t want anything more, despite Gran’s ‘boys only want one thing’ speech, and it left you feeling so frustrated. You would have believed it too, that he wasn’t interested in you like that, if you hadn’t seen his pupils dilate after he kissed you. His hands would start shaking a little and he would gulp before pulling away. He felt something, even if he didn’t want to show exactly what it was. 

The clock chimed and you opened your eyes. Had you really fallen asleep again, despite having woken up at noon? The TV was still playing a rerun of Days of our lives. You sat up feeling steadier. In fact, your stomach was settled, too. It was like the hangover of morning had never happened. Despite it being only 6, it was dark outside. You walked to the window to see that the sky was overcast. 

Deciding to listen to Jo’s sage advice, you made yourself grilled cheese and ate it as quickly as you could before getting to the mess that the house was in. Dean would be flabbergasted if he saw the condition of the place. You grabbed all the clothes and folded them neatly into two piles- yours and Jo’s. Seriously? Had there been a drunk fashion show? Then rounded up the empty bottles and put them in the trash can. It took you over an hour to clean the rest of the house.

At least Jo had put the mail inside on the table before leaving. You decided to put it in the drawer for when Aunt El returned from her weekend. As you were sliding it in, you noticed that one of them was addressed to you and on the letterhead of-

You hurriedly tore open the envelope and pulled out the contents. Unfolding the first paper, you went through the content furiously for the words that you were looking for. As you read them, the paper slipped out of your hand, fell onto the table. You were running before you knew it, running out of the house and into the street. It had started raining outside and your feet slipped on the wet pavers of the sidewalks. Several times you slipped and fell, but you didn’t let that stop you. Each time you picked yourself up, running till you were drenched and out of breath, till you had reached his house.

You banged on the door, not stopping until it opened. Sam stood there, his annoyance swiftly melting into first surprise, then concern.

“Y/N!” He ushered you inside, quickly closing the door behind you. 

“Sam... S-Sam,” You tried to say and he immediately dragged you inside. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re shivering and soaked to the bone,” he fretted, seating you on the sofa and throwing a rug over you. “What were you thinking? You know you can’t deal with the cold!”

“Sam,” you said, grabbing his hand to stop him from hovering over you. “I- I got in!”

He came to a halt. “What?”

“I got into North Carolina Central,” you finally managed through chattering teeth. “I got in!”

His grip on your arms loosened just for a second and then he was pulling you to him, kissing you with an emotion that probably didn’t have a name. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he said, pulling back, a grin of true happiness breaking across his face. “You did it, Y/N! You did it! This is incredible.”

You could see that he meant it. Each word. And his eyes were saying more than that, they were brimming with gratification. Instead of saying anything, you leaned forward and kissed him some more, deeply, pouring all your feelings into it, till a violent shiver ripped through you.

“Shit!” He swore. “You’ve got to get out of these. You can use my bathroom to wash. I'll get you some of my clothes. Not that they’d fit.” He scratched the back of his hair, looking nervous.

Anything to get out of these clothes. Now that you were so cold, you realised just how reckless it had been to get wet in the rain. 

“Come on.” Sam slowly led you upstairs to his room. “I’ll just turn the hot water on for you.”

You looked around Sam’s room as he disappeared in the bathroom. All the times that you had been to the house, he had never invited you up here. Not once. Looking around, you noticed how clean and organised the room was. There weren’t many personal touches, given how little time he had spent here in the past few years, but there was a picture on his table, of him and Dean, laughing at something. 

“In you go,” Sam said, coming out. “There’s a towel for you, and er... I’ll leave the clothes on the bed.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled shyly and walked into the bathroom, clutching at your wet clothes. Locking the door, you stared at the girl in the mirror. She looked bright eyed and… happy. Like the whole world was at her feet. 

The hot shower did calm your nerves, soothing your skin and getting the mud out of your hair. It felt impolite to leave your clothes in the cloth basket at the foot of the sink, but what other choice did you have? Wrapping the towel around your body, you peeked out to make sure you were all by yourself, before stepping out. Sam had laid out a tshirt, a pair of boxers, sweat pants and even a sweater. You felt your face heated up at the sight of them. It felt so intimate to pull on the boxers. You pulled the T-shirt over your head next. It almost reached your lower thigh. Boldly, you decided to ditch the sweatpants, not feeling the need for them after a warm shower.

In the living room, Sam was tending to the fire, his back turned towards you. Feeling brave, you climbed down the staircase. Sam turned at the sound of your feet and his eyes widened, an audible gasp leaving his lips. The reaction was both flattering and encouraging as you walked towards him slowly and kneeled down in front of him. He gulped and breathed out, leaning back just a bit. You moved forward, caressing the side of his face. He sighed as if your touch pained him. 

“Is this not okay?” You breathed uncertainty. “Do you not want this?”

Maybe the hurt was clear on your face, because Sam drew your hand away from his face and placed it over his heart. Through the thin layer of his t-shirt, you could feel it pounding hard.

“Not want this?” He laughed breathily. “It feels like I’ve wanted nothing but you since I first saw you.”

You didn’t understand. “Then why don’t you ever-” you trailed off.

He took your face in his hands, looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. “Y/N/N,” he whispered and the hair on the back of your head stood straight at the intensity in his voice. He had never called you that before. “Don’t you see? You’re too good. I-I don’t think I’m saying it right… part of me feels that I don’t deserve this… I don’t deserve you.”

“Sam! What’re you talking about?”

He looked away, not meeting your eyes. It was something you couldn’t bear.

“Do you know what my first thought was, when I saw the acceptance?” You asked gently, placing your other hand which wasn’t resting over his heart, on his face, making him look at you. The very light stubble there prickled the skin of your palm. “That I had to tell you. It was enough to make me run in the rain, because I knew no one would be as happy for me as you would be!”

“I was happy because you deserve this and the world.” His eyes were a liquid galaxy. They held the universe’s power over you.

He still wasn’t getting it. “Sam,” you said, voice low. “I love you.”

His grip on your face slacked and his hands slid down to your shoulders, eyes roving all over your face, like he was trying to memorise every line, every curve of it.

“Y/N.” 

Your name falling from his lips did strange things to your body. Suddenly you were yanked forward and with none of the softness you had come to expect from Sam, but with a desperation that left you reeling. His fingers twisted in your hair and he was kissing you hungrily, like there was no tomorrow, like the world would cease to exist if stopped now. For you it would, if he stopped. You grabbed onto his shoulders, feeling the tense roll of his muscles as his lips traveled down the column of your neck, leaving wet kisses in their wake.

And you? Your body was on fire. It didn’t hurt, just tingled so pleasantly that you never wanted it to stop. An incoherent moan left your mouth as you held on to Sam like dear life.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, voice hoarse.

You nodded, unable to form proper words, and then fumbled with the hem of his t-shirt. God, don’t stop now. Don’t stop ever.

Sam yanked his shirt off of over his head in one swift move and you were left to marvel at that carved out muscles. You ran your hands lightly over his chest, abs and stomach till the skin disappeared beneath the waistband his pants. 

His hands disappeared under your shirt, feeling the skin of your back and shoulders. You shivered and he pulled his hands back. 

“Do you want to go upstairs?” He was nervous, you realised. You dipped down to his chest.

“Yes.”

Before he could do anything else, you stuttered, “Sam?”

His eyes were wide, breath coming pants. “Yeah?”

“I-I’ve never done this before… I want to... but I don’t know how…” your voice trailed off and you looked down at his hands where they held yours. 

Sam placed one finger under your chin and titled it up so he could look into your eyes, “We’ll take it slow… only if you want to. And if you don’t-”

You put your finger to his lips. “I want to, really.” You might spontaneously combust if it didn’t happen now. 

That was all Sam needed to hear. He scooped you up in his arms, and carried you to the very bedroom you had just left. There was no fire here, but the room was dim and his bed was somehow already warm. He didn’t waste a second before his arms were circling your waist. You caught hold of the hem of your t-shirt and pulled it over your head. Sam gasped, his eyes doing that thing again which made you go all weak in the knees, made your bones soft.

“Can I?” His voice was oh so soft, and when you nodded, he pulled you back to him, chest against chest and skin against skin. You’d be damned if it wasn’t the most wonderful feeling in the world.

“God, I love you,” he breathed into your hair. “I’ve wanted to say it for so long. I can’t believe that you feel the same way.” He kissed your forehead. “And you’re so beautiful. Each time I look at you, you take my breath away. What are you doing to me?”

This was what touched you the most about being with him. He treated you like the most precious blessing in the world, like you were some special favour granted to him by destiny when you were just… you. The only reason you could tell him that you loved him so freely was because you knew he felt the same way. How could you not know, when he looked at you like you were his wish come true? His every gesture, every word just went to further prove it. 

But he did try to prove it for every moment of the night, with his touches, kisses and reverences. He tried to prove it over and over. Later, exhausted, after he had fallen asleep, you lay with your head over his arm, thinking that he needn’t have tried at all. You would forever remember that he loves you. It was the one thing you would never question.

*************************

A/N 2: *Wiggles eyebrows* Finally some action eh? ;) Let me know what you think about it. The next chapter is mostly in present times and pretty crucial for the progress of the story, if I do say so myself ;)

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[holylulusworld]

Trust – Part 5

Summary: You trust Dean with your life, he doesn’t even trust you with his car. All choices in life have consequences - Dean’s have much worse...

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Crowley, Jo Harvelle, Ellen Harvelle, mentioned: Bobby Singer, Ash

Warnings: angst, mentions of torture (physically and mentally), violence, mentions of drugging someone, mentions of rape (nothing graphic), a hint of fluff

Set in Season 9 and 12. Jo and Ellen never died in Season 5. Bobby is still alive and kicking

Trust Masterlist

“Y/N, calm down. We don’t know she is behind all this for sure.” Dean tries but you keep on cackling. “Seriously, Dean? She distracted you from picking me up that day. Then I get kidnapped and she calls my phone and answers the call of the demons. You fucked her after she drugged you and Sammy. Ash saw her with your phone, but you keep on protecting that whore? I bet she made a deal with these monsters or rather she is a monster.”

“Please, let us talk to her first, Y/N. Castiel and Crowley are on their way back to tell us about your deal and the demon holding your contract. Let’s calm down and plan our next steps wisely…please. I know you do not trust Dean, but please trust me.” Sam tries and for a moment you just stand there, looking at your friend.

“I’m sorry, Sammy. I know you want to do the right thing, save everyone but…you can’t save me Sam and you know it. Look at me. I’m broken. Only my demonic half keeps me upright. The pain, the memories are back, and I can’t…I just can’t. Every time I close my eyes I see my friends hurting, violating me in the cruelest way possible. I’m scared to the bone only looking at you…Dean is even worse…I will kill her and then…you can end me.” You say before you run toward the garage. “We need to stop her,” Dean yells running after you but the moment he reaches his car he sees you smiling at him. A smile he has not seen for years. “Goodbye, Dean. I hope you and Sam have a long and fulfilled life. I forgive you as this is the end once for all.” You whisper before vanishing. “Son of a bitch, Sammy!” ---- “Jo…Jo…Jo…it’s been a while. How have you been?” You chuckle as the blonde woman is staring at you with wide eyes. Sliding your knife over the bar counter you smirk at her. “Did the cat got your tongue? I asked you a question.” “Fine…I’m fine, Y/N…and you?” Jo asks nervously biting her lip. “I was not ‘fine’. Getting kidnapped, tortured and mentally raped by demons is no fun I can tell. The best thing was…they used my friend's faces.”

“I’m sorry…” Jo lies, and you chuckle. “Why are you here?” “Hmm…why…am…I…here?” You cackle wielding the knife in front of Jo’s face. “I’m here as Ash over there. Ash are you with us?” You ask looking at the unconscious and to a chair bond man. “Damn he’s such a party crasher…” “Please…don’t hurt me.” Jo gasps. “Oh…you know what? I begged these demons too. Every…single…day. They never stopped hurting me for months, Jojo…for months. I always asked myself why they did not let me go or just killed me after they got to know Dean won’t come to save me.” “Dean …” “Yeah…Good, old Dean Winchester. Hero. Asshole. Son of a bitch but still sexy as hell, Dean Winchester. Do you know why they did not let me go, Jojo?” You ask now sliding the dull side off your knife over Ellen’s arm. “I don’t know, Y/N.” Jo stammers. “Odd. You made a deal with these guys and do not know? Don’t play stupid blonde chick with me, Jo. We both know better. Ash over there heard you called the demons and he saw you answering the phone. After that, you fucked Dean while he was drugged. Poor little Jo. Didn’t he got hard without drugging him?” You tease.

Knife only inches from Ellen’s face you smirk at the older woman. Her eyes are wide, and she stares at her beloved daughter in disbelief. “Jo…is what she says true?” Ellen gasps. “Fine, you’ve got me, bitch! Even after I managed to drive a wedge between you and Dean he never stopped talking about you. He was yearning for you, your friendship and more. I hated it…I had to get rid of you but also I wanted to have some fun…” Jo chuckles and you smile at her. “Fun…interesting. So you made a deal with a bunch of demons and drugged Dean to rape him?” “I did not rape him! I just gave him something to get more…” “Get hard and horny? To make him want you? Pitiful little Jo. Not able to get a man hard the natural way so you make deals and rape him?” “I did not!” “Shut up, blonde bitch. Here’s the deal. Dean and Sammy are on their way, but I have plenty of time. I want the name of the demon you made your deal with and I want to know why they wanted to break me.” “I suggested hurting you to break you. I wanted you to become a demon, so Dean got no other choice than killing you. I did not expect him to become one himself and before I knew years passed…” Jo says, and you start cackling. “You thought Dean would kill me? God, you are too stupid. Even now he tries to save me, tries to make it up to me. Dean is ripping himself into pieces before he kills me, stupid child. The guilt is eating him alive and this is your fault. Did you believe he would marry you, give you hot sweaty sex every night? We are talking about Dean Winchester.” “I thought…” “No, you didn’t think, bitch. I was in your way and you wanted me to suffer. Now I will make you suffer.” Your hand wraps around Ellen’s throat and you can see no emotion in Jo’s eyes. “Ellen…does your daughter love you?” You whisper and Ellen looks at you. Tears are streaming down her face, but she nods. “When was the last time she was warm and friendly?” “Before that night…before she and Dean…” Ellen whispers as you lean closer to her. “We’ve got a problem, Ellen. I think Jo made a hell of a deal and she’s like Sam back then, soulless…only worse. I will open your bindings now and you will take the knife, help Ash and get out of here.” You whisper and Ellen’s eyes widen. “Now…” ---- “Ellen, where is Y/N?” Sam pants running after Dean who is storming into Ellen’s bar. “She said Jo is soulless like you years ago. Y/N believes Jo made a deal or something, drugged Dean to…” “I got it. Stay outside with Ash. Castiel will help you. Crowley, come with me.” Sam orders and the King of hell rolls his eyes. “Find out who has her contract. Help us getting faster to Ellen’s Bar…come with me. We need to talk about your abilities in making conversation, Moose.” Crowley snickers and Sam glares at the much smaller man. “We’ve got no time for this shit. If Y/N kills Jo, there’s no turning back…” “Blah…blah…let her kill the crazy chick. She deserves catching hell for sure…” ---- “Y/N, Y/N…do you believe you can kill me? If you do so…Dean will end you once for all.” Jo snickers. Her whole posture changed, and she smirks at you. “That’s the goal, bitch. I’ll kill you and Dean will end me.” You chuckle and her smile fades. “You don’t have to kill me. Be smart and let me help you. It feels so good being free of your soul. I know you remember the feeling, don’t you?” Jo says slowly walking toward you. Her hips sway and she smiles at you but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “I was never soulless, only a sexy demon. I was still in control…just without all the painful memories.” You whisper. “Perfect! Wasn’t it, prefect? The stillness of heart, mind, and soul. Only pure unadulterated power. Doing what you want to do. No more, sad little girl! No more he only sees me as a sister! No more he only loves Y/N! Free, powerful…and thoughtfully fucked in his backseat.” Jo snickers and you slam your fist into her face. The next punch hits her stomach, followed by a kick to her shin. Huntress or not, soulless or not she can’t stand against a trained huntress with demonic powers. Your eyes flash black and you punch her face again, and again. Memories come back, memories of the pain and desperation so you get your gun out of your waistband and motion her to get up. “Any last wishes?” You ask. “Dean…” Jo chuckles. “I don’t think he wants you if he gets to know you drugged and raped him…” “I did not! I just made him more complying…” Jo gasp as you unlock your gun and press your finger to the trigger. “Y/N, don’t do this,” Dean calls for you. Distracted you look at him. His eyes widen and you watch him aiming his gun, you barely register the gunshot before the bullet hits Jo’s body. Looking at her falling to the ground you see the weapon in her hand. She would’ve killed you… “It was her…it was all her to get you…” You whisper before darkness consumes you. ---- “What does that mean for her, Castiel?” Sam asks. “We got her contract and the demon is dead. Crowley released her and she should be back to normal soon. At least her demonic half should fade away…the rest…” Castiel sighs looking at your unconscious form in the backseat of the Impala. “Only time can tell. She will need help. Without her powers and demonic half of her suppressing the memories and the pain…” “I got it, Castiel. Y/N will need her friends.” “How’s Ellen?” Dean asks. “She can’t believe her daughter did all these awful things. Drugging you and letting Y/N getting kidnapped…she did this before she sold her soul, Dean. It was all Jo, not her soulless self.” Sam explains. “I never thought…” “According to Ellen, her daughter was jealous. She heard you talking about Y/N and how much you miss her. That you want to try to find and make it up to her. This was the moment Jo decided Y/N has to go…” “Dammit!” Dean curses. “Will Jo survive?” “Likely…I don’t know what to do with her if she survives. Her soul was in hell for a long time and I got no clue if getting it back would make things worse or not. It was her hurting Y/N and…abusing you…” “Don’t remind me, Sammy. I felt guilty for all this time. I always saw Jo as a younger sister, nothing more. I never thought she’s into me, Sam. How could I not see she’s crazy?” “Let’s drive back home. Good thing Bobby got here in time with your car or Crowley would mutter even more.” “We owe him one.” Dean sighs glancing at the demon looking at you in the backseat. He’s tapping your forehead and a smile crosses his face. “Hands off, Crowley!” Dean barks and the demon shrugs. “Just gave her a pleasant dream. I’m suppressing the bad memories at least in her dreams so she can sleep peacefully. I like her. Hell of a woman, Winchester. You better watch over her or I’ll do so.” Vanishing Crowley leaves a stunned Dean behind. “Every man seems to fall for Y/N.” Sam chuckles and his brother glares at him. ---- “How do you feel?” Dean asks sitting next to you on his bed. “Like a freight train rammed me and a car hit me next. My head hurts and I hate seeing your face, otherwise, everything is fine.” You mutter. “Is she dead?” “In a hospital. Ellen is with her, along with Cas and Crowley. It was her…I’m so sorry you became a victim as she wanted me.” Dean whispers taking your hand in his. “At least you had some fun…I got the shitty part of the deal, I guess.” You tease. “She drugged me and Sammy. I would’ve never…I swear. I felt guilty after I had sex with Jo. She was like a sister to me and I thought I ‘used’ her that night.” “It was the other way around. Damn, Dean. Did no one taught you to not accept drinks from strangers?” You cough as you try to sit up. “Lie down, Y/N. You need to rest. I remember how I felt after I turned back into  human. I made you a bowl of soup and a hot chocolate if you want to eat and drink something.” “I should hit the road soon. I’ve got unfinished business …” “I know, Y/N. We still need to find the demon offering Jo her deal and giving her the drugs. We will find him and rip him apart. For now,…rest.” “Yes, mommy!” You grunt. “Sleep, Y/N. Please for once in your life, listen to me. Trust me…” “Dean…” “Please…trust me…” “I can try…”

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[katehuntington]

How You & I Will Be - part four

Fandom: Supernatural Timeframe: mid-season 2 Main characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam & Reader (friends) Series summary: When a hellhound case in the mountains goes sideways, Dean and Y/N find themselves trapped in a small cabin, miles from civilization. A serious injury forces the two hunters to come to terms with their true feelings for each other. Rescue is on its way, but will it be in time? Warnings part four: angst, pining, fluff, swearing, alcohol, description of blood and injury, possible character death, saying goodbye, all the tears.  Word Count:  3926 words Author’s note: Part 4 of a 5 part mini-series.  @idreamofhazel and @littlegreenplasticsoldier, thank you so much for being awesome betas! Hold on to something, because it’s gonna get dark and sad. Tissues are mandatory.

Find the ‘How You & I Will Be’ masterlist here!

     Unlike the raging blizzard that is whirling around the cabin outside, inside it’s completely quiet. The flames in the fireplace have died down to a few glowing chunks of charcoal, barely breathing. Dean settled against the wall hours ago and hasn’t moved since; Y/N fell asleep against his chest this afternoon and has been out of it for most of the time. And so he watches the lighting of the scenery change outside as sun goes down and the night comes in, washing dark clouds through the valley.       It has been three days since the hellhounds attacked her. Not allowing himself to sleep has him exhausted, but Dean refuses to let his guard down. He has to stay on watch, he has to keep going. Maybe if he keeps fighting, she’ll be able to hold on, too.

     His arm is wrapped around her, his cheek on her hair. The leftover moonshine keeps him company, comforting him whenever he lets the liquor burn his throat. He was able to contact Sam through the satellite phone again. His smart little brother found a ritual to send the hounds back to the doghouse, but getting his hands on the exotic ingredients has been a challenge. Several hunters are pitching in; Bobby, Ellen and Jo are all working around the clock. But when he glances down at the woman they are all desperately trying to save, he hopes it will be enough. He lets out a worried and shuddering sigh after registering the paleness of her skin and the shallowness of her breath.

     In his entire life he prayed once or twice, maybe. When he was little he would ask God to bring his mom back, but he grew up quick enough to understand that he could pray all he wanted, his mother was never coming home. Today he prayed, though. He begged the man upstairs not to take her, to give her a chance.

     But her condition is getting worse. The infection has caused blood poisoning, by the looks of it. Her fever spiked even higher few hours ago, causing restless dreams and hallucinations. Sometimes she is so far off that she mistakes him for her father. She cries for him, for her mom, too. She told him she was sorry about a hundred times, Dean can’t figure out what she meant. But damn, Y/N is putting up one hell of a fight. 

     ‘I’m not gonna die, I’m not gonna die, I’m not gonna die!’ 

     She keeps repeating it as if she’s trying to scare the reaper away. Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise him if one is already lurking in the corner of the room, like a vulture waiting for the wounded animal to die. The bastard can wait all he wants, Dean can still feel her chest rise and fall, he can feel her shiver. He can feel the intense heat coming from her clammy skin. She’s alive, and again Dean closes his eyes and rests the back of his head against the wood, letting another weary breath slip from his lips.

     God, please…. Please, let her win this fight. I’m begging you here, okay? I’m on my knees, I’ll do everything you ask. Please, just this one time…

     As if it’s a sign from above, the satellite phone rings. Startled, Dean opens his eyes and stares at the piece of equipment laying a few feet away from him. Y/N stirs for a moment, awakened by the beeping sound, but he is able to slip his arm from behind her back and gets up without disturbing her any further. In three big strides he’s next to the phone, picks it up and presses the green button.      “Sam?”      “Dean, hey.”      Relieved, the oldest Winchester places one hand on his hip and stares through the window into the dark night. It’s always good to hear his brother’s voice, especially in desperate times like these.  “Tell me you’ve got something.”      His words come out with a tremble in his voice he didn’t mean to be audible. But his brother heard it nonetheless. “I do. We got all the ingredients and Bobby is lifting the curse as we speak.”

     During the following silence, Dean can hear the soft chanting of his surrogate father in the background. A sigh of relief escapes his lips and he silently thanks the man upstairs. But then Sam’s tone dawns on him. The words weren’t cheery or excited, not relieved like you would expect from the bringer of good news. Before Dean can ask about the downside, his brother continues.      “How is she doing?” he wonders. “Did she get worse?”      Dean turns around to observe Y/N’s unconscious figure leaning against the wall. He swallows thickly when he notices her grey skin tone, the dark shadows under her eyes, her lips pale and dry. He has seen it before, on the faces of hunters and victims whenever the monsters got to them before the Winchesters could. It’s as if the skull illuminates through the skin, eyes sunken in their sockets slightly more. The face of death. Dean turns away, having trouble to accept what is right under his nose.      “She’s on the verge, Sammy,” he speaks softly, trying to stay strong.

     “There’s a rescue team on standby in the valley, but they won’t be able to make a move until dawn, and that is if the storm passes,” the youngest Winchester breaks to him, as gently as possible. “It might take until tomorrow evening before we can reach you.”      Dean gulps, witnessing the bad weather outside. The realisation that Mother Nature might be a major deal-breaker sinks in and Sam can hear a trace of panic when his brother objects.      “No.” Dean shakes his head stubbornly. “No, no, no. She needs help right now. What about a chopper?”      “They don’t fly during blizzards like these.”      “A snowmobile then,” he thinks out loud, pacing back and forth. “How long will it take if you hike up this fucking piece of rock?!”      “Even if we manage to reach you guys on foot, she will never survive the way back in her condition. It’s fifteen degrees outside, winds blowing over 70 miles per hour…”      “Well dammit, Sam! There must be something!”

     Dean turns around, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes squeezed shut. He glances over at her for a second, making sure she is still asleep, but Y/N has barely moved since he picked up the phone. He knows his little brother heard the desperation in his voice. He knows how this looks, but he can’t accept it. He can’t allow it.      “Bobby contacted a witch he owes, maybe she’ll be able to tame the weather. But it’s gonna take a couple of hours at least.…”      “She doesn’t have that much time, Sam. I-I don’t think she’s.…”      The line cracks a little when silence is the only thing that remains between the brothers. Dean presses his trembling lips together as he fight the tears, but he’s unable to continue. He doesn’t need to finish his sentence for Sam to get where he’s going. It takes a while before either of them speaks.

     “Dean, listen to me...” Sam says eventually, his voice broken too, “you’ve got to tell her.”      The older brother stares outside the window, watching the wind taunt the snow, shooting it across the night sky like razors. The fact that Sam doesn’t tell him that it’s going to be just fine, but instead chooses to offer advice on how to handle the final hours, states the obvious.      “No. Maybe if I don’t, she’ll be able to keep throwing punches,” he refuses, the words coming out shaky.       “That’s not what I’m talking about,” Sam rephrases. “You need to tell her what we talked about in the car. You have to tell her that you’re in love with her.”

     Again, silence as Dean bites his lip, moving the speaker away from his mouth slightly to make sure Sam doesn’t pick up on his quivering breath.      “If you don’t, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life,” he pressures. “She deserves to know the truth.”      “She’s dying, Sam. I don’t think she wants to listen to some dude pouring his heart out. This isn’t about me,” Dean responds somewhat agitated.      “You are not just ‘some dude’ to her, Dean! You have no idea, do you?”      He can hear his younger brother sigh on the other side before he continues.  “You’re not the only one I had long night conversations with. It’s a two way street, man.”

     Struck by realization, Dean stares into the storm, eyes wide, mouth slightly opened. Is Sam telling him that this profound feeling is mutual? Sure, a part of him hoped it was. But living a hunter’s life didn’t allow him to feel that way. Sometimes he picked up on something, but he always thought of it as harmless flirting. Besides, she knows him. She knows him better than any girl he has ever come across. She knows about his inability to cope with sorrow and loss. She saw him wreck the trunk of his own car with a crowbar after his father’s death. She knows about the drinking, the urge to hit the liquor cabinet every time life gets rough. She knows about the many, many women, a girl in every town they passed through. He put her through silent-treatment, he raged at her when she confronted him with his habit to stuff up all his pain, grief and anger. How could she possibly love him back?        “She’s in love with me?” he whispers in disbelief.      “Yeah, head over heels,” Sam acknowledges. “She couldn’t stop talking about it.”       Stunned, Dean runs his hand down his face, a mix of emotions knocking him over. If only he had known, maybe they could have made it work. Maybe, just maybe, they could have had something beautiful.       “It would mean the world to her, Dean. Tell her.”      He nods, even though Sam can’t see it.      “Alright, I will.”      A trace of a small smile forms on the corners of his mouth. He never knew he could feel so conflicted. Intense joy opposite an even greater grief. He only just became aware of her feelings for him and he’ll barely have time to act upon it.             “I’m so sorry, Dean,” Sam continues, sadder than a moment ago. “I really hoped you wouldn’t have to live through this.”       Jessica Moore, the love of Sam’s life. She pops into Dean’s mind instantly. He met her once, when he broke into their home in the middle of the night to he pick up his little brother up and search for their father. The way Sam looked at her was almost foreign to him, Dean didn’t understand any of it. He sure does now. He also understands Sam’s desperate attempt to save her when Jess was burning on the ceiling. If anyone can relate to how defeated, hopeless and scared Dean feels right now, it’s his brother.      “I know,” he sighs, appreciating his sympathy.

     He turns away from the icy window to face her again. She stirs, restless by a fever-dream, but then she wakes up. Confused eyes scan the room for her companion. When they focus on him standing by the window, she settles. Not for long, though, because his facial aspects are almost out of character. Tears are shimmering on his bottom eyelashes, eyes filled with desperation. The always optimistic Dean Winchester, who counters every problem with either a joke or another way out, is looking at her as if the world is about to come crashing down. He still has the satellite phone pressed against his ear and she realizes it’s probably Sam on the other side. It’s then when it clicks in her mind and she understands what’s going on.      “Bad news, huh?” she presumes, voice raspy.

Dean opens his mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. The single tear that was still clinging to his eyelid comes down his cheek. It’s impossible for him to lie to her as he intended. She would see right through the deceit anyway, having the ability to read him like a book. Dean bites his tongue to keep back the false promises, his jaw flexing in the process. Not trusting his voice, he nods as he swallows apprehensively. Without words he is able to explain exactly what is happening. He would have given anything to tell her otherwise.

     Y/N breaks her gaze away from him, her mouth slightly opened as it starts to sink in what this means: no one is coming to save her. Her breath hitches in her throat when she tries to breathe in deeply and she identifies it as panic immediately. ‘Calm down, slow breaths, you got this’, she tells herself.       In all fairness, she saw it coming. Even when Dean remained hopeful, she felt the life slipping through her fingers. Her body has been whispering it in her ear, so has her common sense.      “Is that Sam?” she ask softly.      Again Dean nods and she reaches out for the phone. He hands it to his partner, after which he turns away and runs his hand down his face, wiping away the tears.

     “Sammy, you there?”      Immediately, her voice calling out for his brother, calling him Sammy, causes Dean to tear up again. No one calls Sam that, the youngest Winchester would stubbornly correct those who dare to use that nickname. Except for Dean, except for her. That’s how much she’s like family to the brothers.      “Hey Y/N, it’s good to hear your voice,” Sam replies, having trouble keeping a steady tone. “Hanging in there?”       “You know me; not going down without a fight,” she forces a smile, wearing her mask well.       Dean has walked away slowly, his arms crossed in front of his chest. When he reaches the fireplace he leans against the warm stone shaft that runs up to the roof. He waits, listening, while trying to figure out how to deal the inevitable.        “...So there’s no way you can reach us in time?” she asks, after listening to Sam’s explanation.      “Y/N, I-I’m so sorry.…” Sam’s voice breaks.      She nods, her eyes watering. “It’s okay, Sam. You did everything you could.”      The one who is about to die, comforting the one who will live. It’s heartbreaking at least and Sam is touched by her attempt.      “Who’s gonna watch Breaking Bad with me, huh?” Sam smiles, taking a little trip down Memory Lane in order to lighten the mood.       “The big question is who’s gonna be my partner in crime in Vegas upstairs. I can’t count cards without my personal Einstein,” she chuckles through the sadness.       It remains quiet for a few long seconds as both search for things to say. It’s the youngest Winchester who speaks first. His message is as sincere as they come.      “I’m gonna miss you so, so much.”

     Sam doesn’t mean to, but his words hit so hard, that she crumbles. The curtain falls and so do the tears. Her eyes seek Dean, who is watching her having one last conversation with her best friend. He knows that the dam is about to break, so he approaches her slowly and crouches down to level with the girl he cares for so much. Even though he is having a hard time himself, he puts a hand on her shoulder and squeezes it lightly, letting her know he’s right there.      “I’ll miss you too,” she responds, her voice quavering. “Do me a favor, will ya? Take care of your brother for me?”      Dean looks up and away, anything but in her eyes, because he knows it will destroy him. The knot in his stomach tightens and fresh tears roll down his face anyway. Breathing gets a little tougher, a constraint in his chest builds up. God, this hurts.      “I will. You have my word,” Sam promises, unable to tie his emotions down.      “Bye, Sammy.”      “See you again, Y/N.”

     Despite the tears glistening in her eyes, she smiles. Y/N cherishes the moment, then lets the air flow from your mouth and presses the red button. Dean takes the phone from her hand and lays it on the floor next to him, then faces the woman who has his heart. Numb and drained she stares at the fireplace that is barely spreading light anymore. The final words she just exchanged with Sam forces her to face the facts. God, she’s scared. She doesn’t want to die, not after everything that she missed out on saying.      “I fucked up, Dean,” she whimpers.       “Hey, now why would you say that?” he wonders, trying to read her.       “I should’ve done things differently. I- I should’ve lived more, should’ve had more fun, worked less, maybe for once listened to that ticker in my chest,” she pauses, catching her breath when panic causes her to ramble. “It’s just that - that now my time is up, it becomes so clear how bad I fucked up. I just, I wish I….”

     The words flow out together with soft sobs until she can’t continue anymore, so he hushes her softly. Where in the past Dean would have hit the breaks the moment he felt the urge to show affection past the borders of a platonic relationship, he does the exact opposite this time. Dean takes her hand in his, letting their fingers entwine with each other. Somewhat surprised Y/N casts her gaze down at their hands, then up into Dean’s eyes. His touch sends a warm sensation up her arm and spreads through her entire body. God, does it feel wonderful. A warmth she didn’t think she’d feel again since the approach of the end has left her feeling stone cold. It’s only now that she notices how he leans into her, until his forehead rests against hers. A quivering sigh leaves her lips as she squeezes her eyes shut, moved by his tenderness.

     After some time, she whispers, “You know what?”        She creates a little distance, cupping his face and rubbing her thumb through his scruff. His pupils bounce between hers, taking in every feature. For a second her eyes light up, ignited by the connection between the two of them.      “Of all the people, dead or alive, that I could spend my final moments with, I’m glad it’s you,” she says, contented. “I want you to know that I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

     A smile spreads across Dean’s face, creating lines that tell exactly how much those words mean to him. She mirrors his expression as he reaches up to sweep her hair from her face, then traces her jawline with his fingertips. The look that he gives her is unlike any gaze he’s given her before, because this time, he doesn’t hold back. 

     Dean leans in, inching closer and about to do the one thing he has been longing for.      “I should have done this a long time ago.”      He kisses her, in the most loving, gentle and yet passionate way possibly imaginable. Only now he realizes how desperate he was for this moment, how long he waited. How long he kept torturing himself by convincing his heart with his mind that he could never have her, that she would never love him.

     Y/N lets it wash over her and returns this symbol of his love by pulling him deeper into the kiss with the little strength that she has left. Dean takes his sweet time to let her feel how much she means to him, his lips lingering on hers. Then he slowly breaks the connection, cherishing the moment as he rests his forehead against hers. His  eyes remain closed, but eventually he allows himself to gaze at the universe in her eyes. Overcome she stares back, witnessing a shade of green somewhere between hidden rainforest and soothing emerald. Suddenly, she feels it. An urge, the words on the tip of her tongue waiting for her mouth to open. Of course she’s scared of rejection, of the aftermath, but she doesn’t let it win. No, for once she says exactly what her heart tells her to say. Then the one man who she never expected to say it out loud, beats her to it.

     “I love you, y’know that?”      Stunned she stares at him, tears welling up again.      She didn’t know.      She hoped, she dreamed, but she didn’t know. God, she wishes she knew! She would have spent her time differently, she would have stayed by his side every minute, every second. She would have been more careful.  She would have told him how much she loves him so many times that maybe one day he might even start loving himself instead of remaining hateful for the wrongs and mistakes he made. Now might be a good time to let him know. Better late than never.       “I love you, too,” she tells him.

     The realization of being loved is a beautiful thing to witness. The moment of disbelief, then astonishment, followed by a gratitude that grows to a volume that causes his eyes to pour over. It’s astounding that despite the grim future, he is able to shed a few tears of happiness. She loves him, how amazing is that?      “We’ve got piss poor timing, though,” he remarks, making her chuckle.

     The comment was meant to be funny, to bring back that bright smile and those bright eyes once more. It works, but then it also states the awful truth. This story barely began and it’s already coming to an end. And so her smile fades as she comes back down from her cloud. The rush of her amazing moment with Dean was coursing through her body like ecstasy, but its effect fade fast. It’s beginning to sink in how exhausted she truly is, how much of an effort it is just to sit upright. Breathing is becoming a mission and the pain from her leg has spread through her entire body.      “I could use that drink right now,” she says, hinting at the bottle of moonshine.

     ‘Let's disinfect that wound first and get desperate later, okay?’ That was Dean’s response when she asked for the drink last night. That they’re desperate would be an understatement, so with a little reluctance he hands her the liquor.      Letting her drink the alcohol feels like giving up in a way, but he helps her take a sip nonetheless when she is unable to heave the bottle to her mouth on her own. Just a sip is all it takes to trigger a cough.      “It’s not Jack…” she admits. “But it’ll do.”      Dean sets the bottle down and scoots up against the wall next to her, slipping his arm behind her back. Tired, she rests her head against his chest after he pulls her close. His steady heartbeat drums against her ear as he caresses her shoulder. It feels so good to finally let her guard down around Dean, to be close to him without having to be afraid to show too much affection.

     “I don’t want this to end,” she whispers.      Dean nuzzles his nose in her hair, trying to comfort her with his touch. She can’t see, though, that he has closed his eyes, trying to prevent himself from falling apart.       “Me neither,” he responds, his voice soft. “We still have some time, right?”       She nods, weakened, although she can’t say for sure if ‘some time’ can be expressed in hours or minutes.

Oh, boy... I know, it hurts. If you wanna rant, cry or scream at me, go right ahead and hit up my inbox. Stay tuned for the finale soon!

Read the final part here!

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[sweetiecelin]

The Hunter’s Girl (Sam x Reader)

Chapter  1

“Sam?” A familiar voice spoke from behind the brothers.

“(Y/n), thank god you still-” Sam started but was cut off.

“Get the hell away from here. You got the hell outta Dodge the first time, do it again.”

(Y/n) shoved through the brothers and made a beeline for the door, but Sam jogged after her and grabbed a tight hold on her wrist,”Please, just listen, I just wanna talk.”

“You just wanna talk? Get your hand the hell off of me before I break it, Samuel.” (Y/n) spoke intending to keep her promise.

Sam quickly let go,” Please (Y/n), let me and my brother help- talk to you. We’re gonna try and save lives, bare with us.”

(Y/n) met his pleading eyes with a glare that could kill him, “ No. If you don’t get off my property, you and your dear brother will get arrested.”

She leaned close to his ear,” Don’t forget that I have friends in high places, Sam. I don’t like you, so they don’t like you; Don’t forget it.”

She turned  on her heel and unlocked the door, “Oh and Dean, hope your brother told you about me.”

As soon as the door closed behind her, Sam turned facing his brother with a sour face, “Don’t tell me… she’s a werewolf?”

“No, close human raised with the wolves.”

Dean looked at his brother, “Like Tarzan?” Sam nodded his direction of the car. Dean took the hint and started on his way, “So definitely like Tarzan.”

“No, No, she isn’t like Tarzan. She’s like a werewolf, she is going to protect the leader with everything she’s got.”

“So did you two…?” Dean questioned once the car doors closed.

“Almost, one night. The night you called.”

“Did I y’know, interrupt?” Dean asked, suddenly more interested.

“Not that it matt-” Sam started coughing, what came up made Dean chuckled.

“So, I did interrupt, man I-” Dean started.

Sam rolled his eyes, “It doesn’t matter okay? She’s moved on with her life, probably.”

Dean started the car and pulled out, heading to the local diner, “There’s always a chance that she didn’t. How knows Sammy, she could be your true love.”

“Shut up, Dean. She and I are too different to even make it work; She was raised by werewolves and they respect her, I’m a hunter and- and it just won’t work.”

“It worked before didn’t it?”

(Y/n) was in the kitchen dancing to the radio as she cooked breakfast, she wanted to make sure that Sam’s morning was better than the past few. He looked like he had been to Hell and back a few times, she decided that Mama Maggie’s famous hangover breakfast can help his nightmares. She had heard him crying out for a man named Dean in his sleep.

Sam had walked in on (Y/n) dancing in the kitchen in a thin tank top and men's boxer shorts, “Is this your morning ritual?”

(Y/n) squeaked and jumped out of her skin, “Fuck! Jesus, you scared me, Sam!”

Sam raised his hands in a defensive manner and chuckled, “Heh, sorry it’s a habit to move around quietly.”

“So…. how’d you sleep last night? You’ve woken me up if you needed anything, you know that right?” (Y/n) quickly said trying to make her guest comfortable, but failing miserably.

“I slept fine. Um, thanks for letting me sleep here for now.”

(Y/n) offered Sam a gentle smile “It’s fine. Going through a loss can be tough of people. Even the strongest tend to break.”

“So, if you want I can try and get a job and pay rent as much as I can to help out you know?”

“Decided you’re going to stay?” (Y/n)’s smile never changing,

“Heh, yeah, I’m thinking about stay settling down for a few months.” He confessed, looking at her.

“What are you good at?” She spoke trying to help him.

“Um, I’m good at manual labor, people, I guess. Nothing else comes to mind.”

“Ya like books?”

Sam nodded, “Yeah, I kind’ve got a love for reading..”

“My buddy who owns the best bookstore in town is looking for some help around the store. Look I know this sounds like something a teenager would accept but he pays well.”

“I guess, I’ll look into.”

“My bar also has an opening- Well it isn’t really my bar it’s owned by a kind woman, I just help manage it.”

Sam got taken out of his daydream, with Dean snapping his fingers in front of his face.

“Dude, snap out of it. You good? Because we’re at the diner.”

Sam sighed, ”Can’t you just go in and get the food? I’ll wait here.”

“No. C’mon Sammy, we’re not going to have you spun out of whack by some chick.” Dean hopped out of the car and waited by the front of it until Sam hopped out.

“Fine, Dean! Let’s just get this over with.” Sam got out of the car and entered the diner and the whole place fell silent.

Tracy, one of the pack members,  walked up to the brothers with a fake smile plastered on her lips, “If you could kindly pick a seat, one of our staff with shortly assist you, hunters.”

Once that word left her tongue, the older male, members of the pack started growling lowly at the men. Sam sent a pleading look in Tracy’s direction.

“C’mon Tracy, don’t do this.”

“Do what? Make sure you hurt, just like (Y/n) did once you left without a trace? I think I’ll keep doing this, you son of a-”

“Tracy!” Henry’s alpha voice boomed through the diner, ”We don’t treat people like this, no matter how many times they hurt us.”

“But, Hen- Alpha, he hu-”

“He hurt (Y/n) I know, but she isn’t pack of the pack. The rules don’t apply to her.”

Tracy rolled her eyes, then glared at the brothers, “We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone. Including hunters and Pack Alpha. We respectfully ask you to leave our establishment.”

Henry placed a hand on Sam’s back,”Don’t worry, we can dine at the bar. Like old times, Sam.”

(Y/n) and Sam had strolled into the bar. (Y/n) smiled at the bartender and the barflies that had been there since opening.

“Hey, Josie. You know that favor that you owe me?” (Y/n) smiled widely at the bartender.

“You finally calling it in?” The older women teased.

“Well, I thought it was about time, after what..  Fourteen years?  My friend Sam here needs a job.”

Josie sighed “Not hiring at the moment hun.”

“C’mon Jos, Kathy ain’t gonna be lifting the heavy packages with that baby of hers, then her maternity leave.”

“You good at bartending, child?” Josie questioned skeptically.

Sam nodded,” Yes, ma’am, A family friend used to run a bar a few years ago, my brother and I used to help out when it got to busy.”

“Mmm, I guess you’re qualified enough. You start tomorrow night.”

Henry and the Winchester Brothers entered the bar and the normal buzz of Joe’s was almost nonexistent. Josie glanced at the large men.

“What can I get you, boys?” She asked in an easy-going manner.

“Hey Mama Jo, could we get three home-grill burgers and three beers?”

“Of course… coming right up.” Josie turned around and gave the simple order to the cook and gave the men the beers.

“Now, Samuel Winchester, why did you decide to come back?”

Sam choked on his beer “A case… the mur-” Dean had kicked his brother's leg “What the hell man?”

“What? I did nothing.”

“Now, Y'all working a murder case in our town? Now that I think of it some patrons the past couple of weeks gave me a weird feeling.” Josie continued.

Dean glanced at the woman “What did you mean?”

“A couple of rough looking guys gave me an odd feeling. They felt like they had a certain motive.”

“(Y/n) say anything to you about it?”

“No, now that you say that, they were stalking her and a few other humans like they were prey. If anything those are-”

Henry cut her off “New members of the pack. Came here a few weeks ago, asked if they could join, some hunters killed their pack.”

Josie rolled her eyes “And you believe them? They looked like brutes, I doubt that their pack got easily killed by hunters.”

Dean couldn’t believe what was going on, a couple of werewolves were talking open werewolf business in front of two hunters, and his brother knew about this.

“You guys, uh know that Sammy here and myself are a couple of hunters, right?”

Josie and Henry looked at Dean, with a sarcastic look on their faces.

“Dean and Sam Winchester; saved the world a couple of times, sons of John Winchester, civilian-turned-hunter, and Mary Campbell, raised-hunter. I’ve known who you two are before Sam first sat down here.”

Sam chuckled “She’s like Bobby and Ellen, mixed into one minus the paranoia and hunter thing. She helps whoever needs to be helped.”

(Y/n) entered the bar and sighed “Look what I found. A mutt and a couple of hunters.”

Henry flipped her off without even looking at her “Sucking dick is the only thing you’re good at sweetheart.”

The younger female smiled “I’m also very good at pouring shots, Alpha.”

Josie sighed “(Y/n) apologize, now.”

“You’re not my mother.” (Y/n) snapped back.

“Shut up, I raised you that should be close enough.” Josie teased.

“I’m sorry Samuel.”

Josie sighed “Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry for being a bitch.”

“Now, Sam apologize.” Henry and Dean both laughed.

Sam blew a raspberry “I shouldn’t apologize.”

Josie reached over the counter and smack the back of Sam’s head “You left her high and dry while you were going steady.”

“Woah, Woah, Woah. We were never going steady.”

“My bad, Y'all were courting each other.”

Henry and Dean just continued laughing. (Y/n) and Sam both looked at them and hit them.

Sam spoke up “Listen, me and (y/n) never gonna happen.”

(Y/n) chuckled “Not what you said the night you left. ‘I think  I’m falling in love with you’ ‘I don’t care what others think’ ‘We should be together’.“

“He was only saying those things to get into your pant sweetheart,” Dean spoke while he nursed his beer.

“No duh. No one could ever love a hunter.”

“(Y/n) (M/n) (L/n), take that back.” Josie harshly commanded.

(Y/n) chugged the rest of her beer and got up “No, he doesn’t deserve any apologies, everything he touches gets destroyed.” She stormed out of the establishment and Henry went after her to calm her down.

Sam sighed “I knew we shouldn’t have come back. This is just a mistake, the pack will handle this like they always do.”

He started to get up when Josie spoke up “Sit your ass down, Sam. She’s just being overdramatic. But you are too.”

“How the hell am I being dramatic?” Sam tried to understand.

“Dude, you should’ve tried talking to her reasonably, tried to have understood how she felt after you left,” Dean said without thinking twice. “She must've been heartbroken after the fact that you up and left her leaving only a note behind.”

“Sam, my boy, you’re fucking stupid.” Josie disappointedly sighed.

[trade-baby-blues]

Steel Camellias

Pairing: Bones x Reader

Word Count: 2881 (and not done 😱) 

Warnings: ANGST, so much sweet sweet angst; child death, family issues, swearing etc

A/N: Based on a request by the lovely @slither-in-a-half​ “ Can you do a Leonard McCoy x reader. Where everyone is on shore leave, but the reader can’t go back to her home in Alabama so she asks Leonard if she could go with him.” I maaayy have left out the fluff in this part, but!! There’s more where this came from and I promise it’s gonna be super fluffy!! Hopefully you like the beginning at least :) 

A fever had broken out among the crew of the Enterprise. Everyone seemed to run everywhere until they were bent over their desks working overtime or spending twelve hour days on shift in the Medbay. Even Jim spent most of the days in the captain’s chair, skipping meals and sleep, hoping it would somehow make the days go faster. Everyone had the itch. Everyone but you.

It felt like this every time shore leave was announced, but you were never sure if everyone else was moving at superhuman speeds or if you were moving slower. As each day passed, it got harder to get out of bed. The Enterprise was your home. This crew was your family. You had nowhere else to go.

You stared at the roof of your quarters for the last night for two weeks, memorizing the curves and crevices, the smell of the sheets and the sterile feeling of the air. People complained that it felt too mechanical but to you it felt safe. It was the only roof guaranteed to you.

The dining hall was almost empty when you got there. Everyone else was finishing last minute projects. Making sure their affairs were in order. It gave you time to think as you picked at your food. You’d been thinking about visiting the Rockies, but holing up in a cabin alone for two weeks didn’t sound like a great vacation. No, somewhere warm would be better. A beach, maybe. Or a little place out in the country. Hell, maybe you’d skip the States and find a little villa somewhere on the Italian coast.

“Damn you look like you could use a vacation,” Jim said as he plopped down in front of you. You glared at him before stabbing your food and taking a bite to avoid conversation.

Bones sat down next to you. “Slouching is bad for your back, you know.” You curled over the table, pulling your food closer to you. “Someone’s not a morning person,” Bones muttered as he took a sip of his coffee.

“Or maybe someone just wants to go on shore leave a day early,” Jim teased. “Got somewhere special to be?” You shoved another forkful of food in your mouth. “I plan to hit the beach. Probably the bar. Maybe pick up a few lovely ladies to relax with.”

“Never did understand the appeal of the beach,” Bones interjected. “Too many people. Trash and sand everywhere. High risk of skin cancer. God knows what bacteria is in the water.”

“Take it you’re going back to Georgia, again,” Jim laughed.

“Damn right. Gonna take Jo out camping up north.”

“Because the woods are super clean. No disease-carrying bugs or dirt and twigs stuck in your shoes-”

“Shut up, Jim. You come out camping with me and you’ll change your tune. Best way to get your body back in rhythm. Nothing in the world like laying down in a soft patch of grass looking up at stars, listening to a creek bubbling past you. Cicadas humming. Lightning bugs in the air. Mmm, nothing like it.”

You gripped your bowl tighter, thinking of the text your sister sent you. She wants to see you. It would be nice to go home again. Feel the Southern heat. The grass between your toes. Get a chance to sit under that old camellia tree. You wondered if the rope swing your dad built was still there. How many days had you and your sister spent fighting over who got to swing first? Over who went highest? Daring each other to jump off until one of you scraped a knee or twisted an ankle and the game was over. Both of you scolded the whole night and on the swing again as soon as the sun was up.

The table jerked when your knees hit it as you stood. You left your food half eaten, fully stabbed apart, as you struggled to keep your breath steady. You couldn’t go back. You could only move forward. Forward with your day. Forward with your career. Forward with your life.

And yet when shore leave finally came and you stood alone on the landing docks, the world seemed to stand still. Spouses hugged each other, crying and laughing and kissing to make up for the years they’d missed. Kids ran to their parents. Families were reunited. It felt unfair when yours was still so broken.

Bones tapped your arm gently. “You okay?” You nodded but refused to look at him, so he slipped a finger under your chin and forced you too. He stood for a few seconds without saying anything, simply studying you. “What’s wrong?”

Leonard’s hand on your cheek felt like the only thing holding you together as you closed your eyes and whispered, “My mom’s really sick,” with all the composure of a heroin addict coming off a high. “I can’t go home.” It was all crashing down down down as Leonard took you in his arms and you gave yourself this moment of weakness.

You hid your tears quickly as Jim catcalled from across the landing pad. “Knew shore leave was all it would take for you two to finally shack up! Where’s Sulu? He owes me money.” Bones scowled and lit into Jim harshly enough for the kids nearby to cling a little tighter to their parents. When he turned his attention back to you, you were gone.

You slammed the hotel door shut, dropping your bags unceremoniously to the ground. You fumbled with the bathroom door. Fumbled with the light switch. Then you were on your knees in front of the toilet dry heaving a lifetime of bad memories and a childhood taken from you too soon. You pressed your face against the side of the bowl and sobbed. She wants to see you.

It was dark out when the knock at your door came, gentle at first, but persistent. Then aggravated. You opened the door to see Bones in the hallway looking far too high-strung for someone on vacation. “I’ve been calling you for days.” You shrugged, not able to meet his eye. Of course you knew he’d been calling you and he had to know you were ignoring him. He closed his eyes and sighed, steadying his patience like he was talking to a child. You tried to muster the energy to be offended but couldn’t. “Can I please come in?”

You said nothing to indicate your agreement but walked away from the door without closing it. Bones followed you in, surveying the mess that you’d managed to make in the few days since shore leave had started. Take out and beer cans littered the living room while the kitchenette appeared pristine. You knocked a can off the couch and sat down, feet propped on the table. The bed didn’t look like it had been slept in.

Leonard’s heart ached for you as he stepped gingerly around the mess to sit down on the couch next to you. He left enough space for you to not feel trapped but to let you know he wasn’t going anywhere. “Tell me what you need.”

You stared blankly at the television before tossing the remote sideways to him. “Pick a movie.”

Three movies later and the sun was coming up. You had long since fallen asleep to the rise and fall of Bones’ chest while he stroked your bare shoulder, wondering, thinking. Not knowing how to help. He started with getting you to bed and tucking you under the sheets. You grumbled at first, missing his body heat, but settled for wrapping your arms around a pillow instead.

When you finally woke up, the room was spotless and a plate of waffles sat on the kitchen table in the golden afternoon sun. You could hear Bones snoring from the couch. With the sheets still wrapped tightly around you, you hauled yourself up from bed and walked towards Bones. He was a work of art, jawline carved painstakingly out of marble and heart molded out of gold. Your own heart seemed withered in comparison.

You tightened your grip on the pillow in your hand and swung it hard against Leonard’s face. He jumped off the couch, nearly falling over the coffee table as his brain tried to make sense of where he was and what was happening. His hair stuck up at all ends where it was pressed against the couch cushions, and you had to admit it made an adorable sight.

“You think that’s funny, huh,” Bones asked, snatching the pillow from you. You shrugged, biting back at the smile on your lips. “How ‘bout a taste of your own medicine. Doctor’s orders.” Bones smacked you in the hip with the pillow, not that you could feel much through your blanket armor. Before you could move, Bones got you again across the shoulder. You tried to scramble away, but your feet got tangled up in your own blanket armor and you went tumbling down as Bones straddled you, hitting you again and again with the pillow until you finally managed to yell out a surrender between fits of laughter.

He rolled to the ground beside you, brushing hair out of your eyes as you peeked out from among the blankets. “Come on,” he said. “Your food’s cold, kiddo.”

You immediately groaned, rolling over and pulling the blankets back over your face. “Way to ruin the fucking moment, Len. You can go now.”

“Moment?”

You shot up, leaving an empty husk of blankets behind you. “Are you serious?” You glared at Leonard. “You didn’t see the moment there? Because that was totally a moment and you ruined it, kiddo.” You stuck your tongue out at Leonard who, much to your delight, laughed.

“I didn’t realize I should be looking for moments, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want Jim to lose his bet about us ‘shacking up’ now would we?” You winked at Leonard as you sat down at the table. He chuckled again as he joined you, admiring, not for the first time, the way the light hit your skin.

He let the silence settle for a few minutes before he dared to stir it again. “Why can’t you go home?” He made his voice soft, uncritical, as if he were asking you about the weather not asking you to unpack one of the most traumatic events in your life.

You took a breath, pretending like you hadn’t already rehearsed a thousand different ways to tell Leonard. “I had a baby when I was sixteen.” Bones, to his credit, tried to pretend he didn’t choke on his coffee. “My town is…” You sighed, already feeling your throat tighten. You covered your face with your hands, hiding from something as usual but never quite sure what. “Blue Springs is small. It’s so small. Less than 100 people. It’s the kind of small where everyone knows each other and everyone knows you had sex with Tommy Ridenhauer when you were supposed to be at track practice. The kind of small where getting pregnant was God’s way of punishing you for lying and getting kicked out of the church was punishment for having a baby out of wedlock and getting kicked out of the house is punishment for not going to church. It’s the kind of town where you find yourself sixteen and on the streets when your baby’s father decides he doesn’t want anything to do with you, so you’ve got to work at the diner ‘til the baby’s practically falling out of you so you can afford the rent in a shithole apartment, never mind making it to Calculus on time. It’s the kind of town that praises itself for having open arms and open doors until you make one stupid mistake and then even your parents are slamming doors in your face.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling your hands start to shake. You balled them in fists and set them gently against the table as you breathed out, focusing on the feel of the table against your skin and the way the chair bit into the widest part of your hips and the smell of coffee going stale and anything that would ground your mind back to this moment.

“That wasn’t in your medical history,” Bones said, more to himself than to you.

You wrung your hands briefly before sliding a finger under the rubber band around your wrist and snapping it against your skin. You took a deep breath and snapped it again, feeling your anger and your pain dissipate. The rubber band became the only sound in a kitchen that started to feel too big. “I didn’t want to tell anyone. You tell them you’re a single mom and people start treating you like you’re made of glass.” You gritted your teeth. Pulled the rubber band. Let it snap.

Bones reached out and put a hand over yours, stopping you from snapping the rubber band anymore. “I could help, darlin. I’ve been raising Jo on my own since her mom and I split. I know it’s hard-” “You don’t know shit,” you yelled, standing abruptly.  You swiped your arm across the table, sending the waffle and plate crashing to the floor. “My parents disowned me. You know how I found out? I came home from school and my key didn’t work in the lock anymore. I knocked on their door. I knocked on the neighbors door. I called their phones for an hour and you know what they did? They called the police. The police. Then they pulled my sister out of the community high school and stuck her in a private school so I couldn’t see her anymore, and Tommy, God. Tommy dumped me so he could focus on football, because he was up for a scholarship and needed to perform well for the scouts. I had no one. I couldn’t pass the baby off when I had to work a double shift. There was no one. No one to hold my hand during labor. No one to show me how to change a diaper or how to mix formula or how to rock her to sleep. No one to tell me if I was doing it right or wrong or how to fix it and there was no one there for me when I had to bury her.”

The levi finally gave out and a sob ripped from your throat like a storm. You crumpled, feeling every bit like the scared teenager you were all those years ago. Your body shook despite your best efforts to calm yourself, to breathe, and, although he was usually one for quick comebacks, Bones had no words to help you. So he sat instead, sliding to the ground next to you and pulling you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held him and he held you, both your bodies shaking from the force of your sobs. He held you until you forgot where you ended and Bones began.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that but the stiffness in your joints suggested it was longer than you should have. Yet you still couldn’t pull your head from Bones’ chest. He was stroking your hair, humming softly. An country song you recognized but couldn’t quite place. You could feel his heartbeat drumming away under the palm of your hand like you were in some fucking romance novel and this was the part before you looked up longingly into his eyes and kissed him, except you had no more energy and he ruined the moment as soon as it began.

“What was your daughter’s name?”

You cleared your throat, afraid of how raspy your voice would sound. “Eden.” Bones hummed in response before picking up the tune again. You picked at a loose thread on the shirt he was wearing. He dropped his hand from your head to stroke your shoulder.

“What happened?”

You continued to pull at the thread. “Depends who you ask. My mother would say it was God punishing me for my sins.”

Bones brought his hand around to rest on top of yours. You finally caught his eye. “I’m not asking your mother. I’m asking you.”

“SIDS.” You crossed your arms, turning away from him so your back was flush with his chest. You suddenly felt restless. Like you needed to run.

Bones must’ve noticed because he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “That why you went into the medical field?” You nodded. “You know there’s no predicting SIDS. Even if you do everything you’re supposed to, sometimes it just….happens. And it’s not your fault. It’s not God’s punishment. It’s just cruel and random and happens to great parents everywhere.” Bones sighed. “I didn’t know you when you were sixteen but I know you now. You would’ve been a great mom. The fact that your mother couldn’t see it says more about her than it does you.”

“I don’t know if I can talk to her alone. I’ve been mad at her for so long I don’t….I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not alone, then.”

Tags! As always let me know if you want tagged/not tagged!!

@8bit-arc-reactor @jimtkirkisabitch @sjlovestory @kristaparadowski @outside-the-government @martinawalker @thevalesofanduin @goingknowherewastaken @thefanficfaerie @feelmyroarrrr @yukki-art @bolontiku  @brooke-taylor0323 @anotherotter

[sammy-moo]

The Hunter’s Son Pt. 4

Characters: Sam x Reader (eventually), OMC (Jonah)

Summary: During a missing childrens’ case, Sam runs into a familiar face and one that looks much like his own. Now Sam has to tackle something just as difficult as hunting: fatherhood

Words: 1,768

Warnings: Bullying, fighting

A/N: If you would like to be added to the tag list for this series let me know! 

~Series Masterlist~

Sunday had went smoothly. The two of you talked and decided what would happen exactly. Sam decided he was going to continue hunting and keep the two of you out of it. Whenever he could he would stop by to visit. But Sam wasn’t leaving until tomorrow, which meant he had another day to spend some time with Jonah.

However, your plans to pick up your son changed when you were asked to stay over. Normally you’d have Amanda take Jonah home, but today you decided it would be best if Sam were to. Thankfully, Jonah had taken the information very well yesterday. Of course he didn’t have many questions from what he already knew of the situation before.

Way before Sam even knew, Jonah was informed that his dad didn’t leave or walk out. It was your choice to leave him behind. He had someone special, then when the time came he had a job that was dangerous. It was one they couldn’t mess around with. Jonah being the curious child he was, asked millions of questions at that time. But once he knew Sam was his father, he was hesitant but welcomed him anyways. It was going to be an adjustment for Jonah as well. He grew up only knowing you and having you around, now he had to learn of the man who was his own flesh and blood.

You stood their waiting- hoping Sam would reply. And to your rescue he did. You told him if he needed to make dinner to go for it. You even informed him of Jonah’s dislikes when it came to food, which was very slim compared to you.

Sam headed for his brother’s car with the keys, chewing on his bottom lip. It didn’t take him too long to find Jonah’s school and pull up. His hazel eyes scanned the grounds looking for his son. However, worry and anger boiled up inside him quickly as he hurried from the car.

Jonah was curled up on the ground being beat up by some of the other boys.

“You’re a liar!”

“I bet your dad doesn’t love you! It’s why he isn’t around!”

“I bet your mom doesn’t even know who he is!”

Tears fell down Jonah’s face as he tried to protect himself from them. He wanted to be brave and fight them off, tell them how wrong they were, but someone beat him to it.

“Hey, that’s enough.”

The three boys immediately stopped and looked to Sam towering over them. Fear began to strike them as they stepped away.

“We were just playing,” one quickly defended.

“He started it!”

Sam gave them all a look, “I don’t care who started it, you’re all stopping.” He helped Jonah up to his feet, “If I find out any of you lay another hand on my son again I will be speaking with your parents.”

The three nodded. Thankfully the teacher on duty approached.

“Excuse me but I have never seen you before.”

Sam looked to the woman, “I’m Jonah’s father… Sam. However, it doesn’t matter. What matters is you should be stopping them. They were just teaming up on him.”

The teacher looked between the three boys and Jonah, noticing the bloody nose. “Honestly, I can’t do anything if I didn’t see it. He could’ve easily tripped and blamed them as well.”

Sam growled. He wanted to give her an earful, but decided against it and lead Jonah to the car. Once he was seated in the passenger seat Sam began to examine him.

“Hey… You alright?”

Jonah didn’t say a word causing Sam to sigh. He handed him a napkin to use to stop the bleeding. Sam thought it would be best to take him home.

The car was complete silence until Jonah spoke up.

“Do you love my mom?”

Sam was startled by the child’s blunt question, “I uh… Honestly, I don’t know. She’s just someone I dated back in college.”

“So you’re just around for me then….”

Sam sighed gently, “Yeah. Yeah I am. I don’t wanna be like my dad. I wanna be a better father to you than mine was me….”

Jonah scowled. Everything he ever wanted and dreamed about was now slapping him in the face. He wanted a dad like all the other kids. He wanted a father that loved his mom and wanted to be with her. He wanted a dad he could play catch with and learn all these cool things from. And most of all, he wanted someone to make his mom happy. And any guy you ever tried to introduce to Jonah, he hated. In your eyes, his opinion meant a make or break deal.

Your friends always tried to tell you your son’s opinion shouldn’t stop you from being happy, but he was your son after all. You weren’t going to force someone upon him and make him like them.

“Stop.”

Sam frowned, “I’m sorry what?”

“Just stop! Stop the car!”

Sam pulled over and turned to look at him, “Jonah what’s wrong? What is it?”

Jonah quickly unbuckled from the seat.

Sam was conflicted and tried to reach for it again until Jonah raised his voice.

“I hate you!”

Sam flinched and watched his six year old son hurry from the car and down the sidewalk. Sam quickly grabbed the keys and hurried after him.

“Jonah! Jonah wait!”

Sadly, Jonah managed to escape before Sam could catch him.

Sam stood there with his hands on his head, “Fuck…. No, no, no! Jonah! Get back here! Now!” Sam hurried where he thought he went, still finding no sign of him. “Oh god… Y/N is gonna kill me….” Sam raced back to the car, driving around the area, hoping to find Jonah. When he still saw no sign of him, he decided to check the direction towards your home.

Sam’s heart was racing as he searched. Guilt began to weigh him down the longer the seconds went by. He had lost his son. He messed up so bad and you were going to kill him. He kept playing the scenario in his head, and boy did he feel like he deserved it. He pulled up towards your home, his heart stopping. There was Jonah sitting on the porch.

Sam quickly parked and got out.

“Jonah you can’t do that. I thought something happened to you…. You seriously had me worried sick… God, I have to tell your mom when she gets home.”

Jonah looked up to him sniffling, “I don’t wanna be happy if she can’t be happy too. She’s my best friend!”

Sam froze, “Jonah, wh- what are you talking about?”

“Why can’t we be like the other families? Why can’t you love her?”

Sam gulped and knelt down, looking up to him from where he slouched, eye to eye with his son. Jonah’s eyes were almost a perfect mirror to your eye color. Every part of Jonah’s looks screamed Sam until you looked into his eyes.

“Jonah I- we can’t be like the other families. Our situation, what we have- it’s far different. I know you want a normal life, a normal family. Trust me, I know. I didn’t know my mom at all, but you’re lucky. You actually get to meet me and make memories with me. I didn’t with my mom, she passed away when I was a baby. But Jonah, to make this work you gotta let me in. You have to let me get to know you. I want to protect you and I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t even wanna be the reason you get hurt. I was seriously worried sick. You can’t run off like that again….” Sam gulped and sighed a bit, “Jonah, I may not love your mom in the way you hope, but I do care about her.”

Jonah wiped his face, “But she loves you…. If you tell her that it’ll hurt her.”

Sam frowned more. Where on earth was this coming from? “I’m sure she loves me being around. She’s just happy for you to have this chance.”

Jonah stood up abruptly, “No. Come look.” Jonah hurried for the door.

Sam had to unlock it, following him inside. Jonah hurried to the hallway closet. He quickly opened it and pointed to a black box on the top shelf.

“She moved it up there from me… I looked in it once. She was mad. She said it’s only for adults.”

Sam’s eyes widened as he blushed a bit. Different possibilities flashed through his mind. But curiosity is what stuck. Sam grabbed the box and looked down to him.

“I’ll make you a deal… We get you cleaned up, start on homework, and I’ll see what you’re talking about okay?”

Jonah nodded, “Sam. I’m sorry for running off…. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Sam sighed and rustled his chestnut hair, “It’s alright just promise you won’t do it again?”

Jonah nodded and followed him to the kitchen. Sam helped clean him up and get homework going. Once his homework was finished Jonah wanted to play a game.

The two were so focused they hadn’t noticed you come in. You frowned as you noticed Jonah’s dirty clothes.

“What happened today?”

The two looked up and saw your expression. Sam quickly ended the game and stood up.

“I promise that-”

“Some kids beated me up at school. Sam saved me. I’m okay though… Promise!”

You sighed and quickly got down to hug him. “Next time go to a teacher please?” Jonah nodded his head. “Now go get washed up. I’m going to start on dinner.”

Jonah hurried off and you straightened, “Thank you for picking him up. Seriously I owe you one.”

Sam nodded, “It was no problem.” However he still felt like a babysitter to his own son, but he hoped the feeling would change.

“You’re welcome to stay for dinner. You just need to wash up too.”

Sam nodded, “Right.”

He watched you go to the kitchen. Suddenly remembering the black box.

You grabbed it, “I don’t know what he was telling you, but you don’t need to be snooping around Sam. What’s in here isn’t your business.”

Sam frowned as you took it to your room before going back to the kitchen. Your entire demeanor and emotions changed instantly. Never had he saw you like this, even when he broke things off with you.

Whatever the hell was in that black box, was something you were hiding. And whatever it was, Sam needed to find out.

Lucifer chuckled softly, “Awe. Trouble in paradise?”

Forever Tags:   @sleepywinchester, @hay-yo-its-jo, @timeforsmut, @goldenangelbloodcastiel, @because-imma-lady-assface, @growningupgeek, @abbessolute, @keelzy2, @wideawakeandwriting, @super-not-naturall, @babypieandwhiskey, @wi-deangirl77, @ilsawasanacrobat, @impala-dreamer, @becs-bunker, @something-random25, @inlovewithbja, @squirrel--moose--giraffe, @mistressofallthingsgeeky

Series tags: @the-bottom-of-the-abyss, @fonduegames

[sevralships]

“Just Because You Can” Part 5 of 7, Chapters 17-19

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7 FIN]

The Pines triplets, Mabel, Dipper, and Jolene, have always been best friends. But lately, there’s been some distance growing between the Mystery Kids, due in part to the forbidden feelings with which they are each struggling. How will they manage to see eye to eye, when torn between wanting each other and craving adventure?

(This is a new AU that I’ve been calling Jolene AU, devised by myself and @handleonthescandal​ after one of us asked the question “What if Mabel and Dipper were triplets but with another sister?”. Although this AU is similar, it is not connected to Double Dippin’ AU, and Jolene is in no way connected to Tyrone.)

Shoutout to @sirwaddlesesquire for being the trustiest squire and an insightful, helpful, and supportive beta.

Mostly SFW, mostly angst with some action/adventure and a little bit of fluff, tw incest

Fic under the cut, enjoy!

Chapter 17: Flight

Jolene’s brain stalled like a car in mud. This can’t be happening, she told herself impatiently, I’m hallucinating. She’d been pretty freaked, but she was sure that once she’d stopped the tears and washed her face five or six times and recited to herself every reason that she couldn’t kiss her brother, that she was back to normal. The fan in the bathroom was pretty loud, but she had thought she’d heard Mabel out there. She had braced herself to see Mabel, and opened the door, only to find bona fide proof that she was still hardcore hallucinating.

She took in the scene before her. Trying to break down the hallucination and find reality. Mabel and Dipper were kissing in Dipper’s doorway. Simple as that, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Like a boyfriend kissing his girlfriend goodnight by her front door. Her arms draped over his neck, his arms pulling her close against him. Their lips moving together, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, like they were two halves of the same whole and being together was more natural than being apart.

No way, she reminded herself, No way, this can’t be real. Find the flaws. Something was off, for sure. It took a second for Jo to realize Mabel was wearing black. There it was, yeah. Yeah, no way Mabel was wearing all black. It wasn’t even glittery black. Mabel hadn’t even worn all black to their grandpa’s funeral, opting instead for a respectfully funereal but much more Mabel-y navy with a sequin-trimmed blushy-pink cardigan. Mabel Pines did not do black.

And Dipper seemed off too. He was so…poised. Jo almost smiled at the idea of ‘Dipper’ and ‘poise’ in the same thought. Dipper was cradling Mabel in a leading-man kinda kiss, one hand in her hair while the other possessively gripped her waist. It was the kinda kiss that ended up on movie posters for Victorian-era romances that would bore you to tears. Very not Dipper, Jo comforted herself, Dipper would definitely be all bumping teeth and stammering stepping on toes, not so suave. She rubbed her eyes, confident that when she looked again, her mind would quit playing this cruel joke on her.

But when she opened her eyes, they were still there. If anything, the kiss had deepened, their brows softening with tenderness, their hands gripping a little tighter. Her heart started to speed up again, banging on her ribs angrily, as she stared. Softly, almost too quiet to hear, Mabel sighed. Sighed against Dipper’s lips. Dipper’s lips, which only moments ago had hovered over Jo’s own, tempting her to kiss them. But she hadn’t, after all, she couldn’t, he was her brother and her best friend and he would have pushed her away and wiped his mouth and scorned her and–

He isn’t. She admitted to herself, He isn’t pushing her away. He isn’t mad. He isn’t weirded out. He’s kissing her back. She took a silent step into the hallway. Mabel isn’t me, though. He would have pushed me away. It was like a knife in her quickly speeding heart. He actually wanted Mabel. But… Mabel? Of course Jo knew Mabel idolized Dipper a little, for all her teasing, she was devoted to him. Indeed, Jolene had had murmurings of suspicion that Mabel wanted Dipper, but still. Seeing Mabel not push him away… Who kissed who? She found herself wondering, her eyes flashing desperately back and forth between them. It doesn’t matter, the knife in her chest reminded her, it doesn’t matter. Now that they have each other, why would either of them need you?

Mabel and Dipper leapt suddenly apart, and it took Jo a moment to realize she had cried out. Two sets of brown eyes were on her, wide and panicked. ‘Deer in headlights’ would have been a gross understatement. Jo’s heart was racing, fast and irregular, competing with her tongue’s attempt at forming words, “What- what in the- how?”

“Jo, it’s–” Dipper began shakily.

“It’s what?” Jo demanded, “You guys were kissing.” She cringed inwardly at the way her own accusation echoed the taunting ‘k-i-s-s-i-n-g’ of a child’s taunt.

“I can explain,” Mabel pleaded, her skin deathly pale against her strangely dark clothes.

“Oh, I’d like to hear that,” Jo said, crossing her arms over her crazed heart.

“It-it…”Mabel cast her eyes down, “It was… It didn’t mean anything! It was just–”

“…it didn’t?” Dipper asked, his voice softly devastated. Mabel’s eyes rose to meet his and Jo’s blood ran cold. It did mean something, she knew, More than I thought…More than…They don’t want each other, they love each other.

“Dipper…” Mabel begged, torn between trying to appease her siblings’ conflicting hopes, “It’s so complicated…”

“You know what, it’s fine!” Jolene interrupted, surprised by the vitriol in her own voice, “You guys don’t owe me an explanation! I’m just your sister, what the hell do I know?!” She took a couple steps towards them, “Discuss on your own time whether that-that-meant anything, because you know what? I don’t fucking care!”

“Jo-jo,” Dipper implored, “Please, please listen to me. Mabes and I are as confused as you are. Please, we love you–”

Jo laughed in Dipper’s face and he cringed, “Oh that’s rich!” she stood directly in front of him now and he could hardly believe the fire burning in her eyes, “You’re confused, huh? Being confused makes you start kissing your sister, huh? Because I coulda sworn being excited nearly had the same effect! Guess anything might inspire some sister-smooching!”

Shit shit shit, so that is what happened, Dipper swallowed hard, thinking of how Jo had scurried from his room, “Jo, it’s not–”

“What’s she talking about?” Mabel asked, her head cocked to the side.

“Jo, calm down!” Dipper begged, “Can’t we just talk about this?”

“Calm down?” Jo repeated shrilly and Mabel winced, shaking her head, seriously Dip, never tell a girl to calm down, “Why-why-would I be calm? I just lost everything!” Jo pushed Dipper hard and his tailbone hit the ground painfully, as Jo strode past him into his room. She’d always had a short fuse, but Dipper had never in his life seen her so incensed, “You don’t fucking understand! You-you, neither of you!”

“Jolene…” Mabel said from the hall, stepping into Dipper’s doorway.

“Don’t,” Jolene screamed, silencing them both, “You don’t get it! You-you matter! You’ve always been the ones that mattered! You saved the fucking world, what the fuck have I done!?” She smacked her chest to punctuate her reference to herself, “You’ve always looked out for me and put up with me but you never needed me! I needed you, my world, my happiness depended on you, but I’ve only been a drain and a nuisance!” Angry tears were streaming down her face, her voice alternately shrill and thick with crying, “I almost got you killed, Dipper, and…and I…” Her words faltered as they were overpowered by her tears, “And you, you have each other! And-and that’s, that’s just great! You don’t-don’t need me, ‘s’time I learned to not need you!”

In a blur, Jo was out the room and flying down the stairs, leaving Dipper and Mabel blinking at her absence.

Chapter 18: No Time To Lose

The sound of the car pealing out of the driveway woke Dipper up and he sprang to his feet. His eyes went at once to the spot on his bed that he knew would empty, “Ohh, shit shit shit shit shit,” he whined, pressing the heels of his hands to his brow.

“Dipper… what…?” Mabel asked softly from the doorway, leaning against the frame.

“Fuck!” Dipper shouted, kicking the leg of his bed. He turned on Mabel angrily, “What the hell was that?”

Mabel flinched in the face of his sudden anger, “Why are you yelling at me?” she asked, stung.

“Why am I yelling at you?! Seriously?!” Dipper gestured towards the hall, “Why did you yell at me? Why did you kiss me? Why did you try to say it…it…meant…”

As usual, Dipper’s anger burnt out fast, and Mabel tried to offer him a reassuring smile, “I’m sorry, it didn’t….it didn’t not…I was trying, to, just, with Jo–”

Dipper shook his head, like a dog shaking off water, and held up both hands, “We don’t have time to talk about this right now. We need to go after Jo.”

“Dip,” Mabel put her hands on his shoulders, trying to meet his eyes, “Maybe she just needs some time to cool off–”

“No, no way,” Dipper brushed her hands off, pacing his room, “Jo’s not going to cool off, she’s going to fucking get herself killed.” He held his face in his hands without slowing down his pacing.

“What are you talking about, Dip?” Mabel asked, exhausted with her siblings’ cryptic ravings, one right after the other.

“She-she took her pack!” Dipper said, pointing at his bed, “She was packing it before the interview, saying-saying she wanted to go after the Lone Pine Mountain Devils!” Dipper rolled his eyes at Mabel’s blank stare, “They’re these really fucking mean bird-dinosaur-raptor things that no one’s ever gotten a picture of because if they see you, they kill you! One whiff of meat and bam, they’re tearing your frickin’ face off!”

“Fun…” Mabel said drily.

“Well, that’s where Jo’s going!” Dipper’s voice cracked, “And she took the Chariot and she speeds like a crazy person, especially when she’s mad, and I’ve never seen her this mad, and I don’t even know why she’s this mad and we don’t have a car–”

“Yes, we do,” Mabel interrupted, and it was Dipper’s turn to stare at her blankly, “Well, you guys were my ride and when you didn’t come to the play, I had to use McMahon’s music van again and–”

“Awesome, can we use it?” Dipper cut in, ignoring the guilt trip about the play.

“Um, yeah,” Mabel said, watching as Dipper pulled his pack from his closet and started filling it on autopilot, having done it a million times.

He glanced over at her watching him, “Don’t just stand there, go get your pack. We have no time to lose!”

With a small eye-roll that Dipper didn’t see, Mabel left to go follow his instructions. Entering her and Jolene’s room gave her a moment’s pause. Her heart twinged looking at Jolene’s side of the room, the disheveled green striped bedsheets, the wall plastered with posters and her drawings. She felt the urge to climb into Jo’s bed, pull the green comforter over her head and go to sleep. She’d been up early and worked hard on the play, on top of that the mess with Jo, and the fight with Dipper, and the kiss… She felt her cheeks redden at the thought of the kiss. She wished she could take it back and go back to how things had been yesterday, but at the same time, she wished she could walk over to his room right now and kiss him again. And again and again, and not stop kissing him until their parents got home.

She pushed these thoughts away as she went over to her closet, digging through the purses and shoes and miscellany on the floor looking for her pack. How long has it been since I was invited on an adventure thingy? She asked herself. Finally she pulled it out, the pink camouflage emerging from the piles of more often worn accessories. Some stuff was still inside it from whenever she’d last used it, some rope, a water-warped map, no longer readable, the round pink canteen that matched the pack. She shook it and it sloshed, and she made a face, wondering how nasty water would taste after years in a plastic bottle. Canteen in hand, pack slung over one shoulder, Mabel trotted quickly downstairs to the kitchen.

She was filling the canteen at the sink when Dipper thumped down the stairs, he peeked his head in, “Are you ready yet?”

“Almost. Water,” She said, trying not to be short with him, “The keys are by the door, with the ‘Phantom of the Opera’ keychain.”

“McMahon is such a dork,” Dipper muttered tensely, turning away, “Hurry up, Mabes!” he shouted back from the door.

Mabel rolled her eyes again but did hurry. She was leaving the kitchen, twisting the cap onto her canteen when she had an idea. She turned back and opened the fridge, remembering the conversation she’d had with Dad that morning. She’d eaten breakfast before Dipper and Jo had gotten up, and had handled Dad’s well-meaning awkwardness all on her own. He’d talked to her about the recipe he’d found for Beef Bourguignon that he was looking forward to trying this week. She opened the fridge and silently thanked Dad. She grabbed one of the two shrink-wrapped packages of stew meat and stuffed it into her pack. If these things are as bloodthirsty as Dip said, she reasoned with herself as she left the house, we might be happy for a distraction.

Chapter 19: Brave

The Mystery Machine purred under Jo’s shaking hands. It was content and happy to be speeding along the highway, oblivious to the agitation of its driver. She’d planned and dreamed about this trip enough that the route was seared into her brain. She figured that was a good thing. There was no way her mind could have followed the tiny text and tangled lines of a map. For once planning wasn’t a waste of time, Jo conceded, thinking of Dipper’s obsessive lists and itineraries. The thought curdled like milk upon contact with the acidity of her pain. Maybe I’ll never see one those stupid plans again.

Jo hadn’t thought that far ahead, but it seemed impossible that she would ever see either of her best friends again. It wasn’t as if she could go back home after all this. And that was if there was any of her left to go back home at all. Her stomach turned as she realized she hoped there would be nothing left. She saw the Lone Pine Mountain Devils in her mind, flapping their grand wings and snapping their jaws. It made her sick, but she hoped they were as ferocious as everyone said.

She moaned aloud in the privacy of the Mystery Machine. She felt too much at once to be quiet. For the first time in her life, she had to admit to herself that she wanted it to end. And why? She was embarrassed, beyond embarrassed, mortified. As she never had been before.  I can’t face them, especially Dipper, I can’t I can’t I can’t. Not Dipper who was so logical, so responsible, so reasonable. He must think I’m such an idiot for blowing up like that. And she knew she couldn’t bear to see the pity in Mabel’s eyes again, the desperate appeasing pity that had made her say it meant nothing.

‘It didn’t?’ Dipper’s wounded voice echoed in her mind, lancing through her embarrassment and her anger to the heart of the problem. It had meant something. It had meant so much. She knew, she knew intimately, how much it had meant. It would have meant just the same thing to her.

How long had she harbored this unwanted but undeniable passion within herself? How many times had she snuck glances, touches, sniffs? She had so hated it in herself, so feared that she would be found out. So terrified that if they only knew what she was feeling, they would never forgive her. But she couldn’t have predicted it playing out like this. It doesn’t make any sense! It isn’t fair! They may forgive her, but how could she ever forgive herself?

She’d had a chance. She’d had a chance at getting what she wanted. Dipper had held her in his arms and looked down at her with something a hell of a lot like desire in his eyes. He’d been so handsome, his parted lips so incredibly tempting. If she had just let herself respond, let herself go to him like iron to a magnet, he would be hers right now. Would he? She wondered, Or was it never really me he wanted? Even so, she wished she had kissed him while she had the chance. When she’d run to the bathroom, it hadn’t been with any thought to whether or not there would ever be another opportunity.

You’re full of shit, Jo, she scorned herself,  You were never gonna make a move. You were just going to yearn and pine in pathetic silence. But not Mabel. No, never Mabel. Matchmaker, love at first sight, summer romance Mabel would never have been content to sit by and wish away the days for anyone, even her brother. Some part of Jo was sure that Mabel had kissed Dipper. She’d always been pushier, flirtier, more socially adept than her triplets. The Dipper that Jo had left standing nonplussed in his room wouldn’t have turned around and kissed someone else. As much as it felt that way, as much as it stung, he would have been too discouraged, too confused. Mabel had kissed him, no doubt. Typical, Jo admitted to herself, Mabel could have her choice of men, of course I’ve only ever wanted the two of them. She moaned again, this time the one word, “Freeeeeak.”

Would she have been able to kiss Mabel? She couldn’t help wondering. After all, her feelings for Mabel were older, had developed first and been undeniable. She could avoid thinking about Dipper, but she had never been able to set aside how she loved and longed for Mabel. No, she admitted, No, that made it even harder. There was a different brand of rejection at stake. Being pushed away by Mabel would have broken something else in her entirely. Who could bear being turned away by the better version of themself?

If you hadn’t been such a fucking coward, Jolene, she bullied herself, accelerating even more, If you hadn’t run away from him kissing you, you wouldn’t have to run away from him kissing her! It was hard to believe she had been so elated only hours before. High from the Mystery Monthly interview, basking in Dipper’s excitement, that version of Jo felt a million miles away. Why did you run? Aren’t you the brave one? Isn’t that the only goddamn thing you have going for you?

“Yes,” she said to herself, her voice choked with tears, “Brave,” she glanced over at her pack in the passenger seat. She had always been braver than Dipper, even if she wasn’t brave enough to kiss him. His caution had only held them back with Tessie, and it wouldn’t get in her way this time. He nearly died because of you, a doubtful voice in her head reminded her. She pushed it away, Well, then, it’s a good thing he won’t get in my way this time.

Continue to Part 6