#karolina's playlist challenge

[milkywaystarboy]

Monsters

Karolina’s Playlist (1k Followers Celebration Challenge)

Prompt: Monsters by Ruelle (link to YouTuble lyric video)

Pairing: none

Word Count: 2594

Summary: A djinni named Kamaria runs from the Winchesters, who want them dead. They try to explain to the infamous brothers that the world isn’t black and white, and that Sam and Dean are just as much monsters as they are. A friendly monster fic with a nonbinary Arabic main character. Enjoy, my friends, and maybe one day this will be a series.

Warnings: there aren’t really any, though I do apologize for Kamaria violating the Winchesters’ minds with their djinn magic

Tags: @loveitsallineed @eruthiawenluin @zzzett @itsallintheeyeofthebeholder

My heart pounds in my throat as I run down an alley, not daring to throw a glance over my shoulder as I flee. Mama always told me to watch out for hunters, and now here I am, running from two of North America’s best known. I dash around a corner and curse loudly; dead end. The sound of footsteps grows louder and I look around, trying to find an escape. Bags of trash and dumpsters and shoddily-locked doors meet my eyes and a plan forms quick enough for me to enact it.

Sam and Dean Winchester, hunters of the supernatural and monsters in their own right, speed around the corner, guns drawn. They hesitate at the sight of the empty alley, then continue down it, cautious of the many hiding places I could be in. I watch them from behind a pile of trash bags. Dean notices a door broken open with a light blue trace of magic on it and moves closer to it, Sam turning his back to me as he covers Dean. Moving quickly, I get behind Sam and reach up to touch his temple, knocking him out and sending him into a dream.

I duck behind a dumpster, which puts me in Dean’s blind spot when he turns at the sound of his brother hitting the ground. “Sam!” he says, nearly a shout, and hurries to kneel beside him. “Wake up!” Then he’s also on the ground, a touch from my hand putting him into a nearly identical dream as his brother’s.

My breathing is ragged and my heart is still racing a mile a minute, but the threat is over, for now. Rummaging around in Dean’s pockets, I find the keys to his car. Back to the diner they’d chased me from, then I drive the classic Impala to the alleyway and manage to drag the overgrown men into their car to make it look like they fell asleep while parked at the curb. They’ll sleep for about an hour or so, giving me enough time to head out of town for somewhere quieter.

Maybe, while they’re out and after I’ve made it a fair distance, I’ll take a minute to plant an idea in their minds. An idea that not all monsters are truly monsters. And maybe I’ll tell them some of the bedtime stories my mama would tell me before sending me to sleep.

~~~

Since the beginning of time, there have been monsters among the humans. God created his humans, but Eve was the mother of monsters. Her first children were the Leviathans and the Alphas, and from the Alphas came the rest of us.

The world was large, and our Alphas led us to settle far from each other so that our feeding grounds wouldn’t overlap. The djinn settled in the Middle East, our dark skin ideal protection against the harsh desert sun.

Humans were easy prey at first. Gullible and soft, unaware of the danger in the world. Some fought back, of course, but were unsuccessful… and then, by a fluke, a butcher discovered how to kill us: a silver blade, coated in the blood of a lamb.

Soon, the butcher’s family started to hunt us, and we were forced from our homes, unable to pass as human. We retreated to ruins in the desert and resorted to luring in unwary travelers with the promise of making their deepest desires come true.

We survived, for a time, content to gain our sustenance in this way. The djinn slowly spread out, taking to caves as well as ruins for shelter. The Alpha remained near to the town she had originally settled in, taking two humans every few months. One to turn into another djinn, and one to teach the newborn how to feed.

Then hunters started moving around the world, meeting other hunters and exchanging information. They spread stories of monsters hiding in ruins on well-traveled roads, taking victims by night or day. It became harder for the djinn to survive, so we evolved again, taking to dark alleyways and unsuspecting passersby in the cities we had previously abandoned.

I was born in the upper room of an abandoned building in the year 1 BC, child of the Alpha and a newborn male djinn. My father died quickly (he was far too brash and careless), and so my mother and I moved to a different city.

She would tell me stories of hunters, of how merciless they were in their killings. How they would single-mindedly track down any creature they believed to be in the wrong and kill them, no matter how much evidence pointed to their innocence. She warned me to never trust a human, no matter how harmless they seemed, because any of them could have the knowledge of a hunter.

Hunters are the real monsters, she told me. And they have yet to prove her wrong.

~~~

The man laid out on the fold-out couch is pale and gaunt, nearly dead. And good riddance, too. The man was an abuser and child molester, set free on a technicality. Now he’s living in a dream world where he went to prison, as he should have, as I feed off him. I remove the tube in his arm that was slowly draining him of blood and close it off, wrapping it up with the blood bag and putting into a special container. It’ll stay at body temperature in there, ready for me to drink from when I need it.

I fast forward the dream he’s in, giving enough poison to end his life within a few minutes. As he lays there twitching in REM, I pack my bags and leave. It’ll be a race to see who finds the body first, the cleaners or the Winchesters, but either way, my message will be clear. I place a folder with the man’s history on his chest and leave.

~~~

Everyone knows the Winchesters. That is, every supernatural creature in North America, from the youngest child to the oldest scarred survivor, knows the Winchesters. Either from personal experience or from stories told like horror tales around a campfire.

They’re practically serial killers. If the government knew about all the people dead at the hands of the brothers, they’d use all their resources to track them down and arrest them. They’d be put on trial and sentenced to death or life in prison.

The members of the supernatural community know to stay clever to stay one step ahead of the Winchester men. Even just one misstep can lead to death at the hands of a weapon specifically made to end us. They know our weaknesses, and so we must learn theirs in return.

Their greatest weakness is each other. Story after story tells of one sacrificing himself for the other. But there are more. Dean has weaknesses for junk food and sweets, a good woman, and a night of drinks and pool. Sam is harder to gauge; some stories spin him as the more compassionate and more likely to spare someone if they’re proved innocent, but some tell he’s the more aggressive and ruthless. The only weakness mentioned is demon’s blood, but then it turned into a strength.

The magic of the djinn allows us to see our victims’ greatest fears and most desperate wishes. For a long time, we thought that if we could grab the Winchesters, we could learn their weaknesses. However, the only djinn able to capture Dean was quickly killed by Sam, and so they remain a mystery. But not for long…

~~~

It’s months before the Winchesters catch up with me again. This time I’m prepared for them and the empty warehouse I’ve made my home is set up as a trap. I wait, hidden in the rafters, watching them as they search the building for me. Dean’s the first to go down, his ankles caught in a noose that drags him up towards the ceiling. As Sam shouts, I dash over to the older brother and grab his arm, letting the poison in my magic seep into his skin to knock him out.

Sam takes longer to catch. After watching Dean disappear towards the ceiling, he’s wary of my traps. So I allow him to wander, lose himself in the maze I’ve made, and when he’s stuck up against a dead end, I drop down on a rope to land silently behind him. “Sam,” I say, my voice soft.

He spins around, silver knife flashing in the low light. His face is almost confused, but then his jaw clenches and he steps forward. “Where is Dean?”

“Safe.” I hold my hands up and take a step back. “I merely wish to talk, but the two of you make that difficult.”

“Talk?”

“Think about it. If I’d wanted to kill you, I would have done so months ago when I got the better of you in that alleyway.”

The tall hunter hesitates, just for a second, and that’s my opening. Rumors of the younger brother’s empathy aside, it’s too risky to hope he’d disarm willingly. I dart forward and knock the knife out of his hand, reaching up to render him unconscious. He falls with a thump and I fashion a harness for him out of the end of the rope. The system of pulleys in the warehouse helps me get Sam up to the room where his brother is.

~~~

The Winchesters are broken men. That much is certain, now that their inner selves are laid bare for me to see. Raised in the hunting life, led by a father who was more like a drill sergeant. Who believed he was doing what was right and that it was the best he could do given the circumstances. His abuse was unintentional, but it was abuse and neglect nonetheless, and both of these men have suffered for it.

Dean’s crippling fear of not being good enough, of failing to protect his brother, is a result of too much responsibility given to him in his childhood. His own self-righteous need to be the one in charge, the one who is right and makes the decisions. Dependency on his brother leads him to make selfish choices which only hurt others, and he falls into the pattern of the same kind of unintentional abuse as his father.

Sam is the outcast, the unworthy, unclean child. Strove to fit in but realized it was futile and ran away, only to be brought back into the life by the same kind of disaster that made his father begin. His compassion and large heart comes from knowing what it means to be unloved and his desire that no one else feels that way if he can help it. But years of abuse, both physical and psychological, have broken him and made him into a man who believes that he has no choice but to live the life his father chose for him when he was six months old.

~~~

I’m seated in an armchair, watching the Winchesters as they wake from the dream I gave them that explained my actions. They’re tied to their own chairs, immobile for the time being. “Welcome back to the world of the waking,” I say with a smirk. Dean growls and jerks against the rope, but Sam just looks at me thoughtfully, and I know he at least was paying attention in the dream.

“I swear to god,” Dean says. “As soon as I’m out of these ropes--”

“You’ll kill me, yes,” I interrupt. “Give me five minutes, though, and maybe you’ll rethink that decision.”

“You only kill people you think deserve it, right?” Sam asks, voice quiet.

“Right.” I smile slightly at him. “Criminals who got off clean because of corruption in the system.”

“Who are you to decide that?” the older Winchester says. “Who gave you the right?”

I raise an eyebrow, turning my attention back to him. “Who gave you the right to kill my kind and other beings like me? A drunk, obsessive ex-soldier looking for revenge for his dead wife?” That shuts him up, and I soften my expression, continuing. “I read stories in the papers of killers who get away because of a technicality, rapists whose victims are too scared to testify. The system is bogged down with cases and, more often than not, small time criminals, local ones who don’t make the news, get away and keep hurting people. So I make sure they pay for their crimes and allow myself to survive without harming innocents.”

Sam watches me, thoughtful expression on his face still, but Dean shrugs. “So what? You’re still killing people.”

“So are you.” I sigh, standing. “Look, I’ll stop killing criminals the second you stop killing ‘monsters’.” My fingers form air quotes and he rolls those bright green eyes of his. “You know you two are just as much monsters to the supernatural community as we are to you, right?”

Dean scoffs, but Sam looks down, something almost like sorrow in the lines of his face. “I know there are stories about us in the hunter world,” the younger man says. “I’m sure there are similar ones in your world too.”

I nod. “You two need to realize that the world isn’t made up of black and white. It’s more about gray morality than you think. I know covens of witches who work to improve the lives of the humans they share neighborhoods with, vampires who drink only from animals, werewolves who abstain from human hearts. Do they deserve to die just because of something that happened to them?” The two men are silent. “Of course not. Just as you two do not deserve to die despite the demon blood and becoming a demon.”

“How do you…” Dean starts, eyes narrowed.

“Djinn know the wishes and fears of humans, and are in their minds to control the dream when they feed off them. I’ve seen inside both of you while you were sleeping.” Dean growls again, and I almost feel guilty about the look of fear that crosses Sam’s face. “So here’s my deal. You two stop hunting me, and spread the word to other hunters to leave me alone. Make sure you take care from now on to double-check that the ‘monster’ you’re hunting is actually guilty, and I’ll do the same for my targets. In return, I’ll let you go, no worse for wear.”

“How do we know you’ll keep your end of the deal?” Sam asks.

“Trust me, the day I start killing innocents is the day I come to you and tell you I’m done living.” I step towards him, ignoring him flinching away as I untie him and let the ropes drop to the floor. “You have your freedom and your life. All I ask in return is my own.” Sam stands, and then holds out his hand. I shake it warily, but he smiles a little at me.

“Go,” he says, stepping over to Dean. “You have our word. And know we’ll find you if you break your promise.” I nod and leave, walking away quickly as Sam frees his brother.

“You’re just letting her go?” The older Winchester’s voice is loud and incredulous, and I smirk as Sam answers, though I can’t make out what he says. I look down at my cell phone as I get in my car, smiling at Sam’s number in my contacts. I’ll keep an eye on them, and maybe one day, hunter and hunted can work together for a common goal, for good.

[evenifidie]

Transcendent

Written for Karolina’s Playlist (1k Followers Celebration Challenge) by @loveitsallineed. Thank you for hosting it!! :D

Prompt: To The Hills by Laurel Rating: Mature because of warnings, and one or two references to sex Pairing: Destiel, with other minor pairings that don’t matter Warnings | Tags: Accidental Drug Use | Gay Dean, Bi Cas, Dean thinks Cas is homophobic, Cas is actually in love with him, Fake Relationships, Fluff and Angst

Summary: If there was one person Dean hated in the whole world, it had to be Castiel Novak. All of a sudden, they had to pretend to be boyfriends.

Notes: Much thanks to @pimentogirl for coming up with most of the plot XD and for reading this over for me. Reading credits also go to @twxnkdean. This is the story I was worrying about yesterday, because I was confused in what direction to take it etc etc, and I thank @destielonfire and @fiftyshadesofkawaii for offering to help me out. :) ALSO, thanks to @weekendwritingmarathon because I wrote it in some of the sprints hosted. :D I think this is enough thanks, although I’m not sure considering I take way too much help from way too many people every. single. day. for. everything.

*AO3 Link*

[iiarchive]

Warsaw June 11th - Matinee

See anything wrong/missing? Please let us know!

Please click ‘read more’ to view the details from the show! It WILL contain spoilers from the show!

‘Props’/Opening of the Show

Starts with what they are not going to do

Mentions ‘erotic role play’

Dan as a criminal, Phil as a policeman, voiceover of implied smut

Dan and Phil ‘strip’

Phil got the good ending in the simulation (starting a band and getting 18 million followers) and Dan got the bad ending (dying on the ladies' bathroom floor at a furry rave in a basement). 

Truth Bombs

Dan: What job would they have if youtube didn’t exist?

A: Definitely not a lawyer, deviantart furry freelance artist, axe seller (winner) 

Phil: What imaginary sport would they get medal in?

A: Killing houseplants (winner), being the palest man alive, cereal stealing

D&P: If they had a fragrance what would it be called?

A: Phanilla, eau de ladydoor, the sweet scent of regret (winner)

Ball & Mystery Box

Phil threw a ball into the audience to guess what was ‘inside’ the mystery box

Dan’s furry boyfriend, Dan’s phone, a body pillow

Dan VS Phil

Psychic Connections - Cartoon Character (Dan said Bart Simpson Phil said Lisa Simpson)

Phantastic Phacts

Phil: How old is Colin? (Dan’s family dog)

A: Phil guessed 4 (WRONG the answer was 8)

Dan: What colours were Phil’s school tie?

A: Dan guessed maroon and yellow (WRONG the answer was blue and yellow)

Dan, Phil, or a Rat?

Picture: Rat (Phil got it wrong, he guessed it was him)

Picture: Rat (Dan got it wrong, he guessed it was Phil’s lips)

D&P Dilemma

For Phil: Phil can talk to animals but dan has to pole dance in the background whenever it happens. Phil said he would do it and Dan was offended.

For Dan: Dan gets free black clothes for life but Phil looses his teeth. Dan said he would do it.

Friendship Test loser - Phil

Wheel of Doom

Dan was sacrificed.  

When he was sacrificed he took his birthday hat off and said “now you feel sorry for sacrificing me on my birthday”

Good VS Evil

Dan - The apocalypse, Dan’s 2011 square hair, killing your best friend

Phil - Relaxing bath, anime, cute animals

Getting Deep

Q: Do you guys have a favourite video you’ve made together?

A: They both agreed that The Photobooth Challenge was their favourite video they’ve made together. Phil said he watches that video back when he’s having a bad day and he needs to laugh. Phil said he also likes their baking videos and Dan said he only likes them because he likes remembering all the food he ate.

Q: How do I stop my friendships from drifting?

A: They both said that the internet was a great way to stop friendships from drifting and that the internet is a great way to keep in touch in different ways. Phil said that you should also try to enjoy things you have in common together, so from time to time if you want to keep in touch try to skype and watch a movie or TV show you enjoy together! 

Q: I just got fired any advice?

A: Dan referenced his How I Got Fired video a lot! He said when going to your next job don’t do anything he did (Don’t sell axes to children, lying about being sick and going to reading festival, sleeping under tables) They also said to not mention how you got fired from the first job and Phil said to ask a lot of questions about your job in the interview to seem more professional.

Golden II Awards

They wore glitter suits

Give fandom awards to the audience

Most inaccurate prediction was then singing their favorite eurovision songs and Dan did a short impression of "euphoria" and "fairytale"

Phil’s Diss Track

Assumed lyrics to Phil’s Diss Track thus far

Dan on Piano

Dan plays a song on the piano

Has to do with him and Phil’s origin story

Phil interrupts by returning to his diss track momentarily

Interactive Introverts Duet

Dan and Phil sing a duet with Dan playing the piano

About how they’re ‘Interactive Introverts’

*Bonus*

This show was done on Dan’s birthday!

The audience was all wearing birthday hats

Dan wore his black birthday hat for the first half of the show and then got annoyed with it and took it off during the second half

The audience (and Phil) sang happy birthday to Dan in english and polish!

Dan said he was Phil trash #1

Dan dabbed A LOT 

During Dan, Phil or a rat, Dan guessed the picture was of Phil’s lips and said “I’d know that smirk anywhere”

During the getting deep portion of the show they sat on a tiny box together and dan said “Two bros chilling on a box”

The stage was too small to fit their set so it was just a projection 

The wheel was TOO BIG to fit into the theatre! Dan went out of his way to physically draw a target on three long sheets of paper and they hung it up on the stage!

Phil helped dan adjust his mic

Phil offered to help Dan get out of the white jumpsuit to which Dan responded “I don’t need your help getting undressed Phil”

Audience was named ‘Susan’

*Current pre-show/intermission playlist*

Thank you to Karolina, Maya, Mels, Olga (@/lovmycastiel), D, Juliet Alex, and Maja (she/her) (@/hermione-brekker) for your submission!

[snackoosandscience]

2, 9, 18, 31 ?? B)

2. is there a song that reminds you of your muse? 

I’ve had She Blinded Me With Science stuck in my head for the last week, but I’m not sure if that counts. Uhhh. Uhmmm. Would you believe that I’m the kind of person that dreads playlist challenges?

9. best scene featuring your muse? (chapter, film, episode)

Answered previously, but AA6 trial 2 when we find out where Ema’s at!!

18. are you a jedi master? 

I am absolutely not a Jedi master. I’m probably like… confused navigator. Do you want to be the Jedi master on board this ship? I’m gonna need a better crew than someone who gets us horribly lost half the time and does epically the other half of the time.

31. favorite comic book character?

I love, love, love the Rasputins from X-men (Illyana and Piotr… Mikhail is Not Great), but the most important character to me that I love and cherish is Karolina Dean. Stop reading now if you don’t know Runaways, I guess.

Like oh gosh, baby gay Bekah was a disaster, but it was so refreshing to have Karolina, fellow soft and vulnerable gay. She was around my age when I started reading, and now she’s even in her twenties. Given, I’ve left college behind, but whatever. She didn’t enjoy hurting people even though her powers were dangerous. And being gay definitely feels kind of like being an alien so I will take the heavy handed reveals.

[wolfyystarss]

Celebrating India and understanding what the Anti-India international media hid from you -

I hate the stereotypes about India sooo muchhh!! Also, there are many people (well - meaning) who actually get brainwashed about India coz international media and it's anti - india propoganda. We get stereotyped more than ever coz of that. International news outlets often run fake articles/news about India, pieces that only show one side of the picture, often they report about India in the typical stereotypical way like you know "poor, dirty, full of slums, uneducated country" and I HATE that. India is much more than it's slums. It is much more than the Hindu-Muslim hate headlines that you see. It is much more than cow and curry, toilets and poverty. India is beautiful and I am proud of it.

I would also like to attach some youtube channels that celebrate India and it's Indianness! 💙

1. India In Details/ IID International :

Karolina Goswami is Polish by birth but a few years ago (4-5 yrs) she came to live in India whem she married her husband, Anurag Goswami (an Indian). Anurag didn't want to leave India hence she came to India. She was a bit scared and also sceptical coz uptil now she had a very negative image of India in her mind - courtesy the media. And upon actually visiting India and living here, she discovered the beauty of our nation ♥ now she makes videos that try to change the international and national perspective about India.

These are her YT channels -

I would recommend this video first as it is very very beautiful and this was the first video of hers that I ever saw nd it is a masterpiece 💙 -

https://youtu.be/IAeTXi0oHIQ

Some other episodes that I really love -

Why is India an easy target for Anti india media -

Where is the rape capital - USA, India, Europe, Or -

Irresponsible International Media and the River Ganga -

2. Abhi And Niyu -

These are two Indian Content creators(They are married) that were tired of seeing and reading negative news about India everywhere so they decided to change this and create a YT channel which doesn't only discuss India's negatives but also India's positives.

Here is the link to their YT Channel/IG Page -

IG Page -

They have a special series - 100 Reasons to Love India - here's the link -

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLrb5sBMyf4C7F4Q7eN8hhJC-EDVm4bO4l

3. WION -

Since international media outlets mostly are Anti - India, I would also like to share this channel - India's first and only International news channel - which is breaking the charts and is receiving appreciation from all around the globe today. This channel has relentlessly covered China and has constantly asked tough questions to the Chinese regime - so much so that it has been banned in China. It also talks about US, India, Nepal, Pakistan and many more. Least biased, factual and logical - You will fall in love with this channel.

YT Channel -

Also, their executive editor is Palki Sharma Upadhyay and she hosts the prime time show Gravitas - this is the playlist -

[I Know they aren't content creators but they are helping in putting forward a different perspective/the other side of the story when it comes to India related news, so I wanted to share this]

If y'all know anymore, do share, I'll reblog it and I'll also keep adding more creators as and when I get to know.

[a-girl-who-loves-disney]

Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Karolina’s Playlist (1k Followers Celebration Challenge)

Prompt: Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Lorde

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, brainwashing, kidnapping, poorly written/short fight scene, mentions of blood and killing, mention of dead bodies, use of Wanda Maximoff’s powers on Reader, couple fluffy moments, happy ending

Summary: You’ve been with Hydra for years, being a successful experiment going by the name Shadow. After the regaining of your memories, you decide to escape Hydra. Years later, the Avengers and your past love find you. Happiness doesn’t last for long, as Hydra kidnaps you again and takes your memories leaving the love of your life to try to help you return to your usual self. Will he be able to succeed?

Tagging: @loveitsallineed @skymoonandstardust @colourmecreampuff @avengers122

Quick Author’s Note: A big thank you to Karolina for her patience with me! This is my first time ever writing a song fic so please be nice :)

Word Count: 5,282

Guide:

Bold/Italics = Lyrics

Italics = Vision/Dream

(Y/N) = Your first name

(Y/L/N) = Your last name

(Y/F/C) = Your favorite color

(Y/H/C) = Your hair color

Welcome to your life

“Again.”

At the command of the Hydra agent, you got into your fighting stance once again, knees bent slightly with your hands in front of you. You twirl the knife in your hand as you wait for the attacker; a habit you picked up from your previous mentor.

‘The Winter Soldier’ they had called him. You weren’t much different from him; both of you served in World War II, having been kidnapped and experimented on by Hydra, creating you into their own personal soldiers. While he was called in for most of the work, you were only sent out if the mission became too tricky. Of course, with him being who he was, that was only on rare occasions.

There’s no turning back

This changed after DC; he was gone now, causing the responsibility to fall on you. Anytime Hydra needed someone gone you were now the one for the job. Your ability to get lost in the darkness and always being the one behind the Winter Soldier earned you the name ‘Shadow.’

Even while we sleep

The fall of the helicarriers in DC and the loss of their super soldier was just a minor setback for Hydra. While the world thought that their reign had ended, you continued to be woken up from cryofreeze, brainwashed, and sent on missions.

We will find you

No one was safe. As long as Hydra had you, nothing could stop their terror. 

Acting on your best behavior

You put up with it every time; the pain and the torture that came with each mission. Even after all these years it still affected you. You would think that your body would have become immune to it by now, but instead you still reacted the same way. You would scream until your throat went dry and your head would pound from the electricity that flowed through it. Tears would flow down your face as any little bit of memory gained was stripped from you.

If you were in your right mind, you would have escaped by now. Instead, you stayed and continued to obey their commands, like the perfect soldier you were.

Turn your back on Mother Nature

Kill after kill after kill. Your body count was on the rise. You wouldn’t know it though; each time you returned after a mission your memory was wiped and you were sent into cryofreeze until they needed you again. Hydra’s plans were in action and they continued to strive, all thanks to you.

Everybody wants to rule the world

Something was changing. Your brainwashing sessions had been put on hold for the sake of Hydra’s new “miracles” thus allowing your mind to rebuild. Cloudy visions and muffled voices pried your thoughts more and more, causing confusion to build up. But even with the confusion brought on by these new thoughts, a deep desire for them also arose.

Along with change for you came change within the Hydra facility you resided in. Your missions slowed down, your usual routine being replaced with you training the twins. Their powers were starting to build up and Hydra wanted to push them even further.

Being put in as the test dummy for Wanda Maximoff, you stood there as she stared at you, neither of your gazes faltering. The members of Hydra stood around waiting, no one wanting to miss the moment between one of their first creations and one of their newest.

She walked to you, slowly circling your still form. After a few silent moments, she began. Her eyes turned scarlet, her hands moved gracefully as the red wisps started to surround them and flow around your head. Your eyes flashed red and your stiff posture started to limp. Before you knew it, the dimly lit room you were standing in was gone.

It’s my own desire

The room was no longer dark and cold, but instead bright and warm. Shades of gold painted the place and lights were lit up all over. You could hear music playing; it was upbeat and could easily be danced to. You turned and were surprised when you discovered that you weren’t alone.

People were everywhere: some gathered around the wooden tables, some at the bar with drinks, some in the band playing, and some dancing with their partners. Smiles adorned their faces, many laughing and sipping drinks while talking to those that kept their company.

They all were dressed to the nines in dresses and suits. You looked down to see that your tactical suit and boots were gone and replaced with a (Y/F/C) dress and black heels. You could feel that your hair had changed to, going from its simple braid to elaborate (Y/H/C) curls that framed your face.

“Hey, Doll.”

You turned around at the sound of the voice. There, stood a handsome man, his blonde hair fixed perfectly and his outfit resembling a military uniform. His smile was bright and his blue eyes seemed to sparkle.

“I’ve been waiting for you. It’s about time you and I got our dance.” his words were spoken so differently than the people at Hydra; each one possessing something that you were unfamiliar with.

He placed his hand out for you to grab. Your gaze swapped between his hand and his face. Who was this man?

“Please?” he said it so softly that you could have missed it over the noise.

Your thoughts were all over the place. Should you attack? Should you run? You stood there frozen, all training gone from your mind. For once in a long time, you didn’t know what to do.

Slowly, you lifted your hand and placed it delicately in his. The music changed then; the fast pace replaced with a slow and steady beat.

You moved so perfectly with him, your mind spinning as you questioned how you knew what step to make next. You couldn’t help but continue to look around and take in everything.

When you finally turned back to him you were surprised to see that he was staring at you with a soft smile on his face. His expression held something, certainly an emotion that those at Hydra have never shown to you.

Your eyes grew wide as you felt him leaning closer to you. You could feel his breath on your lips as he came closer. He stopped suddenly, the smile still on his face as he said his next words:

“I love you, (Y/N).”

It’s my own remorse

With a blink of your eyes it was all gone. The warm atmosphere was cold again and the bright lights were replaced with darkness. Any previous colors were now shades of black, white, and gray. The cheerful music muted and was replaced with eerie silence. For once, in a long time, you were scared.

You cautiously took a step forward, then another one, and another one. When you took your next step you heard something squish.

Looking down you saw something you had become accustomed to over the years; its deep color seemed bright compared to its dull surrounding, causing it to stand out. A metallic smell now filled the air as you continued to look at the substance.

Blood. It felt as if it was starting to crawl up your shoe; its only goal being to stain everything it touched.

Tilting your head up you let out an audible gasp at the sight: Bodies littered the area, some with car crashes, others with used shells littered around them. The bright red stood out on the scene in the use of splatters, smears, and puddles.

The deafening silence changed to the sound of screams. Some were loud and deep while others were ear-piercing. You squeezed your eyes shut and covered your ears, but it did nothing. They echoed in your mind; bouncing from one side to the other.

The screams expanded into words and phrases, fear and anger lacing them. They were the voices of your victims and no matter how hard you forced your hands onto your ears, you couldn’t silence them.

You fell to your knees, the beautiful dress now gone and replaced with the uniform you’ve worn so many times. Blood soaked through the knees of your pants, staining your flesh with its scarlet color. You couldn’t take it any longer.

You screamed.

The voices stopped; the silence returning once again. You opened your eyes but still saw the same bloody scene in front of you. You brought your hands down from your ears and to the front of you as you continued to kneel. You cautiously took a look at them and started to shake at what you saw.

Both were covered in blood, warm and glossy as if it just came straight from its source. You stopped breathing as one last phrase echoed through your mind.

“This is who you are now.”

Help me to decide

You awoke with a start. Your breaths quick and sporadic while you looked around at your surroundings. You were in a room at the Hydra base, the thin cot underneath you doing nothing to comfort you in the state you were in.

Whatever that Maximoff girl did to you changed your outlook. Fear coursed through you as you thought of the horrid sights. The memories that you had wanted so much were now tainted with the knowledge of your past. You had to leave; had to get away from the vile place. So that’s what you did.

Feeling satisfied with the progress of the twins’ powers it was decided that you would be sent out on another mission. You arrived at the destination and your plan went into action. You took out the two guards that were sent with you and hid their bodies out of sight. Stripping yourself of anything you found unnecessary, you took a deep breath and looked towards the darkness. With the first step, your decision was made.

Help me make the most of freedom

It had been nearly 2 years since you escaped and you were finally able to get yourself into the “normal” lifestyle. Well, at least as normal as a person who escaped a thought-to-be gone Nazi group could get.

You stayed on the down low; you weren’t going to take any chances while Hydra still lived on. Though your main caution was avoiding Hydra, you should have also been aware of another group that was looking for you.

As you looked at the produce in the outdoor stall you started to feel eyes on you. You started to take subtle looks at those around you; years of training to be unnoticeable paying off. To your left was a red-haired woman standing a few stalls down. Sunglasses adorned her face but you could still tell that her focus was not on the daisy bouquets, but on you. A little farther from her was a dark-skinned man wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap. He leaned against a streetlight with his coffee in hand. As he took a drink his gaze moved to you. It was official: You were being followed.

You continued to stay calm. If you ran it would cause a scene and who knew what these people planned on doing to you.

You started to walk to the right, your sight still appearing to be on the different fruit that lay in front of you. Feigning little interest, you started on your way. Sure enough, the two slowly followed you.

Your pace was steady but quick. Finding a crowd, you attempted to blend in. You were only a block away from your makeshift apartment. If you could just get there you could grab your backpack and go.

The crowd started to dissipate, leaving you with having to round corners and hope that the two followers would get lost. Your hope was pointless though as the two continued to follow you.

Your steps became faster as your eagerness to get away started to arise. Eventually you were in a full sprint, causing the two to do the same.

They were gaining on you. Even with all the turns you made you still couldn’t shake them.

As you ran, you made the mistake of looking behind you. The man and woman were still chasing you closely, but you failed to see the man that was standing right in front of you. You turned back around just in time for him to grab you and press you to his chest.

You attempted to fight him off, but his grip on your arms stayed strong. Amidst your thrashing, the man pushed you up against the nearest wall. Your head hit the bricks behind you, your eyes shutting from the impact.

Opening your eyes again, they widened and your movements to escape stopped as you took in the man in front of you:

Short, blonde hair that had a messy look to it. A blue t-shirt hugged his chest while his arms were clad in a leather jacket. And his eyes. They were so blue that you were sure you could drown in the pools of color.

“It’s you.” you mumbled out, your voice barely above a whisper.

“(Y/N).” he said back, his voice as quiet as yours.

And of pleasure

Ever since that day, life has never been better. You found out your dream man was named Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America, and that the vision you had of him was actually a glimpse of your past in the forties.

He was beside you through every therapy session, doctor visit, and night terror. He listened when you needed him to and would smile at each recovered memory you had of your past together. Through this time, you couldn’t help but start to fall for Steve all over again.

Besides Steve, Bucky was also by your side. Having known each other in the forties and also during your time with Hydra, he was the only one that truly understood what you had gone through.

Your relationship with the rest of the team grew as well. You started to train with them each day, learning to use your skills for good rather than evil. After hours of training and a successful evaluation, you were welcomed as a member of the Avengers.

With new friends around you and your old love beside you, your future started to look hopeful for once.

Nothing ever lasts forever

It happened so fast.

You and Steve just finished a date and were riding his motorcycle back to the Avengers’ Tower when the bike’s front tire was shot out. The motorcycle slid across the concrete bringing you and Steve with it. As you both got up from the wreckage, groups of men approached you and started to attack. The both of you started to fight back; throwing punches and slowly knocking out each of your attackers.

It was in the middle of the fight when you felt the prick to the side of your neck. Your body started to slow down and your vision became fuzzy. As your limbs grew weak one of the men picked you up bridal style and carried you to a nearby van. The doors shut and the vehicle took off with you and a few of the men inside.

As you looked at your kidnappers your eyes started to close. Sinking deeper into unconsciousness, you heard a phrase that you hadn’t heard since you had left that horrid place.

“Hail Hydra.”

When Steve got back to the tower, he and the rest of the team didn’t waste any time in trying to find you. They all tried to hide their panic, but everyone had a fear inside of what was going to happen to you.

None of their feelings could compare to how Steve felt though. He had finally gotten you back after so long only for the same organization to kidnap you a second time.

The intel came in and a location was found. The team hurried to get suited up to go. As Steve and Bucky got ready, Bucky started to speak.

“Do you remember that time that you, (Y/N), and I all went to Coney Island to see the fireworks?”

Steve buckled the straps on his uniform, his lips still stuck in a straight line. “Which time? The time you left with a redhead or the time you left with a brunette?”

Bucky gave out a light chuckle as he continued to put his guns in their holsters. “The first time. And I’m pretty sure that redhead was named Doris.”

As Steve tightened his gloves he started to recall the memory. “Yeah, I remember. (Y/N) met us straight after work so she was still in her uniform. I grabbed her hand after the first firework went off and we held hands for the rest of the show.” He stopped his actions for a moment as sadness started to come over him. “We had our first kiss that night.”

Bucky finished with his guns and started working on his knives. A small silence started to form as they continued to prepare. “We’re gonna get her back.” His tone held no question; he knew for sure that they would get you away from there.

Steve finished with the strap of his helmet and grabbed his shield, swinging it into place on his back. “They’ve taken her from me twice, Buck.” he said, as he started to walk towards the quinjet. “I’m going to make sure they regret it.”

Everybody wants to rule the world

You started to come to as you felt that your arms were strapped down. Your eyes fluttered as they attempted to take in the little bit of light in the room.

“Ah, you’re awake!” a too familiar voice said. He approached where you sat, leaning down and grabbing your chin, forcing your head to face him. A sadistic smile was on his lips. “We’ve missed you greatly, Shadow.”

That name. You hated everything associated with it. Looking at the man in front of you, you spit in his face. “That’s not who I am anymore.”

The man let go of your chin roughly and returned to his standing position. He wiped your spit off his face, his smile now gone. He brought his hand up and slapped it hard across your cheek. The sting was instant and your head lashed to the side from the force. “Hydra will always be who you are.” He started to walk away as the others around you started to approach. “Wipe her. We have lost precious time with her absence and cannot afford to lose any more.”

Your eyes widened slightly and your breath became faster. No, you thought. You were not going to lose these memories that you’ve worked so hard to get back.

As they forced the mouth guard into your mouth, you continued to bring any memory you could to mind:

Watching movies with the team

The back of the chair leans back as it whirs to life.

Having girl’s nights with Wanda and Natasha

The restraints on your arms tighten, securing you to your seat.

Going with Bucky to the Farmer’s Market

The machine starts to move closer towards the sides of your head.

Falling in love with Steve

Pieces of cold machinery set harshly on your temples and over your left eye.

Steve’s laugh, Steve’s smile, Steve’s eyes

A tear slid down your cheek as you screamed from the electricity coursing through you. While you would forget your memories, you would never forget the pain.

There’s a room where the light won’t find you

The quinjet arrived at the warehouse that Hydra was keeping you in. A plan already going into action as soon as they get inside. You were their goal and not one person was going to keep them from getting to you.

Bringing down anyone who got in their way, the Avengers continued to search for you in every inch of the building. Every room they approached was checked, but still there was no sign of you.

Steve fought his way through; his fury motivated by his need to find you. His punches were harsher and his moves were quicker as he continued his search.

He ran through the next door he approached only to stop in his tracks at the sight in front of him.

There you stood, still as a statue, your eyes focused on him.

Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down

Relief entered his mind the same time an overwhelming amount of shock did. “(Y/N).” he breathed out.

You didn’t move, but your mind started to buzz. Why did this man look familiar?

Steve took a breath as his posture straightened. He started to approach you slowly, not knowing completely what they did to you. “(Y/N),” he said it louder this time, attempting to get through to you. “this isn’t who you are. Hydra is messing with your mind.”

You stood there staring at him, your knife twirling absentmindedly in your hand. Fuzzy pictures tried to come to the front of your mind but you willed them away in order to stay focused.

“Your name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You were born in Brooklyn, New York.” He started to feel a bit of déjà vu at his next words, but continued anyway. “You know me.”

Your mind started to hurt; the words from this ‘stranger’ starting to get to you. “No, I don’t.” While your words were meant to be harsh, you could hear the waiver in them.

At your words, Steve continued to step forward, taking the shield off of his arm and placing it on his back. “Yes, you do. We grew up together. We enrolled in the army together.”

It felt as if your brain was on fire and these things that this man was saying to you was not helping. “Shut up!” you shouted, as you advanced towards him.

You aimed your knife at him in attempt to strike only for him to catch your wrist in his grip. Your other fist flew towards his stomach and landed a punch. His grip on your wrist loosened as he started to bend over from your punch. You grabbed the back of his head and brought your knee up, only for him to block it, grabbing your knee instead. You then bring your other leg up and wrap your knee around the back of the man’s neck. Using the leverage, you swing yourself up to where your thighs are around his head. You then twist your body downwards placing your hands on the ground and flipping the man over to land on his back while you land on your feet.

As you run for your knife, the man gets up again. He looks at you as you turn back around, your knife in hand. “You know me, (Y/N).” he speaks as he starts to unstrap the buckle from his helmet. Pulling his helmet off, you finally get a look at him:

Blonde hair. A blue uniform with splashes of red and white. Blue eyes like a clear sky.

Your mind was still reeling, but the pictures were starting to become clearer. “Stop it.” The phrase was loud but had a tone of fear to it, something you were unfamiliar with.

Once again, Steve started walking towards you, but this time you didn’t attack. You instead took a step back with each of his steps forward.

“Your favorite color is (Y/F/C).” Another step. “You are terrified of drowning.” Another step. “You love watching fireworks.” Another step.

“Stop.” The word was barely audible. With all the steps you had been taking back, you had ended up with your back against the wall. You had realized at this moment that tears had been streaming down your cheeks and that your breathing had gotten heavier.

With one last step, Steve was chest to chest with you. Neither of you had taken your eyes off the other during this time. He slowly brought his hands up to lightly grab your arms.

You shook slightly as confusion and fear racked through your mind. Pictures and spoken words continued to cloud your thoughts, unable to make clear sense of it.

Steve stood there looking at you; the girl he had lost and found twice now. He felt like the energy had left his body and his own tears started to cloud his vision. Bringing one hand up he cupped your cheek and said the last words that he hoped would get through to you.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

When they do I’ll be right behind you

Like a flood, the pictures and voices became clear. Your eyes widened and the realization of who was in front of you hit you hard.

“Steve?” you asked breathlessly.

Steve let out a sob that turned into a quiet laugh. “Yes, yes (Y/N), it’s me.” His words were a mix of relief and joy as the tears he held back started to pour over.

You broke down right then, wrapping your arms around his neck as your body wracked with sobs. He caught you easily, tightening one arm around your waist and one hand in your hair. Your knees gave out and he helped guide you to the floor, the both of you still holding each other close.

“I’m so sorry.” you said between breaths. You couldn’t believe you had hurt him; that Shadow had hurt him. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Shh, it’s okay, (Y/N). It’s okay.” he spoke quietly in your ear. He couldn’t imagine how you were feeling right now. All he knew is that he was thrilled to have you back in his arms. “It’s all over now.”

Your face was in the crook of his neck as you cried. The whole situation was becoming too overwhelming for you.

Steve brought a finger to his ear and clicked his com. “Guys, I got her.” he exhaled after he had said it; relief starting to take over his being. He brought his arm back down and picked you up bridal style. “Let’s get you home.” he said as he started to make his way out of the building.

And for once, in a really long time, you felt safe.

So glad we’ve almost made it

After that day things seemed to return to a somewhat normal state. You started to take therapy sessions again, making sure that the last brainwashing Hydra put you through wasn’t going to affect your progress too much. Training became part of your daily routine once more as you hoped to regain your status as an Avenger. You also became closer to Steve; trying once again at your relationship.

So sad we had to fade it

Things could never be exactly the way they were between you and Steve. Both of you had changed since the forties: He became a hero while you were made the villain. While he had all his memories you were still gaining more each day. Yes, your relationship would never be that fairytale it felt to be in the past, but that didn’t mean that either of you were giving up on the idea of happiness.

As the quinjet landed, you headed over to the wall where your weapons were located.

You started to place your guns in their holsters when Steve joined you by your side, grabbing his own weapons and putting them in their designated places.

The silence was peaceful between the two of you but it didn’t have time to last long as Steve spoke up.

“Do you remember that time when we saw fireworks at Coney Island?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you pondered for a moment. Strapping your utility belt around your waist you made sure that it was on the way it should be before answering. “Was that the time that Bucky left with that redhead, Debra?”

Steve’s mouth turned up in a smirk. “Doris. And yes. It was just you and I.”

A smile came to your lips as you thought of the memory. “We sat on a bench near the beach. I was still in my uniform and there was no way I was going to get sand in it.” You giggled at the thought. Placing your knives in their spots, you continued with the memory. “I forgot how loud the fireworks could be. I nearly jumped out of my skin after the first one.” Another giggle escaped your throat at the thought.

You then turned to look at Steve, a fond smile forming on your face. “You grabbed my hand then. And you held it for the rest of the show.” You could see the blush start to creep up his neck; his ears starting to turn red.

Feeling the heat rising in his face, Steve cleared his throat. “Do you, uh, remember what happened after that?” his focus was still on the weapons in front of him as he spoke.

Looking down at the last knife in your hand, you spun it around before finally putting it in its place. You then looked up, admiring the man in front of you. And after your time of adoration, you spoke up. “Yes, I remember.” You start to slowly walk closer to him as you continue with your story.

“The fireworks had ended, and with Bucky nowhere in sight, you walked me to my house. You held my hand the entire way, and when we got to my porch neither of us would let go.”

With everything in place, Steve finally turned to look at you. He let out a content sigh as a small smile started to form on his lips. He then directed his gaze to your hands, grabbing them in his and intertwining your fingers together. “I never wanted to let go.” his voice was quiet, as if speaking any louder might ruin the moment.

You looked at him sweetly, the emotions you felt starting to bubble over. “Is that why you kissed me?”

Steve chuckled a bit, happy to know you remembered that part of the memory. He returned his focus to you. “Not completely.” he took a step closer causing the space between the two of you to be nonexistent. “As we stood on your porch I realized that I was crazy in love with you.”

Your smile grew at his confession and you couldn’t believe how lucky you had been to end up with him.

“And with that thought running through my head, I couldn’t help but kiss you. And you know what?” he said as he let go of one of your hands and brought it to cup your cheek.

“What?” your voice quietly spoke.

He leaned down, his nose brushing yours as both of your eyes started to close. “I’m so glad I did.”

You smiled a full smile then and started to lean your head up towards his lips.

“Hey, lovebirds. How about we get on with the mission instead of making out like teenagers?” Bucky’s voice spoke loudly, interrupting your moment.

Letting out a sigh, you stepped back from Steve and started to head towards the exit of the quinjet.

“Jerk.” Steve mumbled under his breath.

As you and Steve joined the rest of the team at the exit, you started to look straight ahead. About three miles out from where you landed was the Hydra base you were about to infiltrate. The first of many that you would get to help destroy personally.

“Are you ready for this?” Steve asked as he came to stand next to you.

You looked over at him with a smirk then returned to look out at the distance.

“You have no idea.”

Everybody wants to rule the world

[ao3feed-destiel]

Transcendent

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2jl9W8Q

by SupernaturalMystery306

If there was one person Dean hated in the whole world, it had to be Castiel Novak. All of a sudden, they had to pretend to be boyfriends.

Words: 6057, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Supernatural

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel, Balthazar (Supernatural), Meg Masters, Benny Lafitte, Victor Henriksen, Alastair (Supernatural)

Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Additional Tags: Dean Winchester Is Gay, Castiel Novak Is Bi, Dean Thinks Cas Is Homophobic, But In Reality He Just Doesn't Know How Express His Love For Dean, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - High School, Baseball Player Dean, Because Catcher-Pitcher Puns, Punk-Wild-Party-Thrower-Castiel, Balthazar And Meg Are Cousins And Castiel's Besties, They're good people, Alastair Is B. A. D., Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Accidental Drug Use, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Because You C. A. N. N. O. T. Like To The Police, Zachariah Is Rude, I Think These Are Enough Tags To Freak You All Out, Oops Hehe, How Do I Tag, Karolina's Playlist Challenge, Yeah that's it, Fluff and Angst, That's it

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2jl9W8Q

[plaidstiel-wormstache]

I See Fire

This was for Karolina’s, loveitsallineed, Playlist Challenge

Song: I See Fire - Ed Sheeran

Summary: The boys believe they’ve found a child of Yellow-Eyes’ rising. They plan to stop her before she peaks. But she sees them coming and makes the rest of her plans around them. But when things go wrong, will she do what is needed, will she even know what is needed, in order to save them.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Please adhere to the warnings at the beginning of each chapter. Thanks for reading xx

[milkywaystarboy]

Young God

Karolina’s Playlist (1k Followers Celebration Challenge)

Prompt: Young God by Halsey (linked to a YouTube lyric video)

Pairing: Lucifer x Meg, Lucifer x Rowena (and Meg really lusting after Rowena)

Word Count: 2222

Summary: politics AU of sorts, where Lucifer is a corrupt lawyer and Rowena and Meg are a part of his household. Meg has plans for revenge and Rowena helps her make them happen. Might end up being a series eventually. (This was a bit rushed because I just couldn’t get the ending right... I knew what I wanted but it wasn’t coming out. So I just wrote it down as best I could and posted it. I’m already later than the original deadline.)

Warnings: emotional, physical, and sexual abuse; graphic depiction of character death; murder (technically it’s manslaughter tho); Meg’s pansexual lusting; semi-graphic rape

Tags: @loveitsallineed @devsfan55 @itsallintheeyeofthebeholder @zzzett (I don’t know who else to tag so feel free to reblog and tag people)

The pool, like everything else at the house, was large and elegant, and it was almost far enough away from the party in the ballroom for the voices to be silenced. Meg walked barefoot along the edge of it, her shoes abandoned on a deck chair along with her suit jacket. She rolled up the sleeves of her well-tailored suit shirt, deep purple giving way to scarred skin. Sitting on the end of the diving board, she dipped her toes into the water and leaned forward to pull up the cuffs of her pants. The night was just warm enough that the contrast of the cool water sent pleasurable chills up her spine.

A noise at the other end of the pool drew her attention. Another woman stood there, looking almost otherworldly in the diffracted light from the pool. Her red hair gave her away as Rowena MacLeod, the daughter of a local small-time politician, who was looking to move up in the world by becoming Lucifer Morgenstern’s wife. Meg had scoffed when she’d first heard of the young woman joining the household. Just another fly in the famed senator’s web.

“You’re Meg, right?” Rowena’s voice was soft, barely heard over the ever-present lapping of the water. “Meg Masters, the head of security?”

She laughed, the sound almost genuine. “Sure, yeah, that’s what they call me.”

“You’re not actually the head of security?”

“Nope, not me. It’s just a joke in the household.” She noticed how stiffly the woman held herself and motioned to a deck chair. “Take those fancy shoes off, Rowena, and enjoy the water.”

The redhead hesitated, then slipped off the heels and sat at the edge of the pool, careful to keep her long dress from trailing into the water. “So why do they call you that?”

Meg smiled, admiring the long pale legs that were now exposed to her view. “I’ll answer that after you tell me what Luci told you to get you into that fucking ugly dress.”

Rowena’s eyes went wide. “It is not ugly!” But the other woman wasn’t buying it, so she sighed and looked down, picking at the fabric. “You’re right, it’s horrid. The color doesn’t suit me at all.”

“So what’d he say to you to convince you to wear it?”

“He said, ‘You want to be queen, yes? Then you do what the king says.’ I couldn’t say no.”

“You’re here because you’re trying to get into the political scene, right? Think being the wife of a powerful senator will get you fame and fortune?” The redhead nodded and Meg smirked. “Have you tried talking to the women who’ve previously been ‘courted’ by the Morningstar?”

“Women? I hadn’t heard…”

“There’s a reason you haven’t…” The butler interrupted then, saying that Rowena was missed in the ballroom. Meg helped her up from the edge of the pool and got her a towel to dry her feet off, knowing Lucifer would be expecting to hear that she’d helped. As the redhead was walking back to the party with the butler, she spared a glance back at the dark-haired woman, her face thoughtful.

Later that night, Meg stood outside the door to Rowena’s room and listened to Lucifer yell at the woman for asking about the others he’d promised things to. “You don’t get to ask questions, bitch,” he snarled. “You wanted to matter, to be important, so now you pay the price. You’re human, you can break, and you’re mine now. If you think this ends well for you…” He chuckled menacingly. “That’s just the sun in your eyes.”

Then he stormed out and locked the door behind him before grabbing the untied ends of Meg’s tie and dragging her to his bedroom to fuck her raw. No tears fell from her eyes, she was used to it now, and later she laid used on his sheets as he stared at the moon through the window and muttered to himself about being a god.

~~~

Meg found a sort of peace at the bottom of the swimming pool. Even if there were other people in the water, all sound was muted. She was weightless, using a weight as an anchor for as long as she could hold her breath. There was no Lucifer to abuse her, no other women to worry about keeping safe. Just herself and the thoughts of rebellion she only allowed to grow when she was in the water’s embrace.

Today, her peace was shattered by a golf ball sinking past her in front of her face. There was a smear of red on it, probably either lipstick or nail polish, and she let go of the weight to grab it and allow herself to float back up to the surface of the water.

Rowena was waiting for her, like she expected, and she shook her hair back from her face, grinning at the other woman. “What’s up, buttercup?” she asked, resting her elbows on the edge of the pool and rolling the golf ball around in her hand.

The redhead, dressed today in a fashionable pantsuit for some sort of meeting Lucifer had gone to, sat down in front of her, legs tucked to the side. She took off a thin silk scarf, revealing dark purple bruises on her neck, clearly in the shape of fingers. “I can’t do it,” she said softly. “Not any more.”

A pang of sympathy ran through Meg, but she pressed her lips into a thin line as she checked the surroundings for signs of waitstaff before speaking. “You have to. You don’t have a choice now.”

“I always have a choice.”

“Not while he’s alive.”

“Exactly.” Those dark eyebrows rose in surprise, and Rowena’s lip curled slightly. “I’m going to kill him. But I need help.”

It took Meg less than a second to decide, her bottom-of-the-pool thoughts returning. “You have mine.”

“Tell me, first, why you’re called the head of security when you’re not.”

“Because ever since I joined the household, I’ve been in Lucifer’s bed every night. So the security guards joke that I’m in charge of security because I keep the ‘closest eye’ on him.” She used air quotes, her distaste for the title evident in her tone and face.

“How disgusting.”

Meg nodded and then grinned. “You should join me in the pool. Nothing like a good swim to clear your mind and find some peace.”

Rowena raised her eyebrows. “But I don’t have a swimsuit yet.”

“Who cares? You’re at Lucifer’s house, you could skinny dip for all anyone would care.” A blush rose high on the redhead’s cheeks and Meg laughed. “You’ve got a bra and panties on, right? How different is that from a bikini?”

“I suppose you’re right…” She still seemed hesitant, so Meg smirked and pushed away from the edge of the pool, floating on her back leisurely.

“It’s up to you, princess. Don’t let anyone say I forced you to enjoy yourself for a little bit.” She closed her eyes and drifted, grinning after a few minutes when a splash sent a wave to jostle her slightly.

When the sun started to set, they abandoned the pool for the hot tub. Meg stared at the petite figure before her, her eyes were inexorably drawn to the curves of the small of the back and the graceful neck. Rowena ordered the butler, who came out to bring them to dinner, to have their meal brought out to the hot tub. Together, they drank champagne and watched the stars and plotted.

~~~

Meg slowly grew closer and more devoted to Rowena, and she knew it wouldn’t go unnoticed by Lucifer. As expected, about a week after they made their pact to bring him down, she was cornered by the senator. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” he growled, caging her in with his arms by her head. “But it needs to stop. You remember why you joined me, right?”

“I wanted to find the people who killed my sister,” she answered quietly, face carefully composed.

“And you never will if you betray me. You’re just as disposable as the rest of them, don’t think you’re different just because you’re the one in my bed every night. That’s just you earning your answers.”

Meg couldn’t help the small smirk on her face as she nodded. “Understood, Senator Morgenstern.”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed but he moved back, watching her as she walked calmly away. Meg already knew who killed her sister; she’d known from the moment the tall man in the white suit had squeezed the life from her. The real reason she’d joined the household was to have her revenge, and now, years later, she’d finally get it with help from Rowena.

~~~

Rowena walked into Meg’s room, shutting the door behind her before dropping a pile of papers onto her desk. “It’s done,” the redhead said quietly, a triumphant smirk twisting her lips.

Meg grabbed the papers and skimmed them quickly, excitement growing in the pit of her stomach. “Perfect,” she said, looking up. “Then tonight, we make our move. Remember how we’re playing it. You’ll have to let him hit you a couple times for this to work.”

“I remember. I’m not the dumb bimbo he says I am.”

“I know, I’m just double-checking everything. The plan has to work as smoothly as possible for it to succeed.”

“It’s practically foolproof, stop worrying.”

“I’m going to worry until that son of a bitch is dead and you’re in charge.” Meg’s face softened and she smiled at Rowena. “Thank you.”

The redhead frowned slightly. “For what?”

“The opportunity to get my revenge.”

A grin crossed her face. “We women have to stick together in a man’s world.”

~~~

Lucifer paced his room, rage clear on his face as he spun back to face Rowena. “How could you?” he yelled. “You changed my living will and forged the signature?”

The petite woman stood her ground in the face of his anger, her composure as carefully controlled as always. “Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m a greedy bitch,” she said, raising her eyebrows.

Despite the fact that he had most likely been thinking it, Lucifer hadn’t expected her to outright say it. His anger quickly caught up and he smacked her across the face before turning away and heading for the door. “I am going to take care of this… insubordination, and then I am going to deal with you.”

Rowena ran in front of him to stop him and planted her feet, swinging up with her fist to punch him hard in the jaw. As the man stumbled backward, shocked by the blow, she winced and shook her hand, preparing herself for what she knew would come next. Lucifer recovered quickly and launched himself at her, grabbing her around the neck and pushing her to the floor. He didn’t notice the door open and shut behind him, didn’t hear the lock click or Meg’s footsteps on the floor because he was so focused on exacting his anger.

Meg had one of his belts in her hands as she stepped up behind him, quickly looping it around his neck and pulling backwards. His hands flew up to claw at the leather and so released Rowena, who coughed as she crawled away from him. Meg dragged Lucifer by the belt, drawing it tight as she crossed it over and pulled. She put all her strength into it, making sure his airflow was completely cut off.

Lucifer fought against her, as she expected, but as the seconds passed, he grew weaker. His fingers, scrabbling at the belt, grew clumsy and faltered, eventually falling still as his hands dropped to the floor. Blood dripped slowly from his nose and the corner of his mouth, eyes bloodshot. He was dead.

The dark-haired woman dropped the belt and his upper body fell with a thump. Meg’s heart raced with adrenaline, breathing fast as she stood over him, triumphant. She felt powerful, and looked over at Rowena with something like a smile on her face. The redhead was staring at her in awe, as if she was divine. A goddess dealing justice and revenge for those who could not take it for themselves.

~~~

They went to court, of course, because no self-respecting detective sees a person’s fingerprints all over a belt next to a body with neck bruises and thinks it was an accident. And Lucifer’s most loyal men didn’t want a woman suddenly in charge of all of the lawyer’s estate. However, Rowena and Meg had planned for this, and they combined their knowledge of the judicial system with the scars and bruises each held as evidence of Lucifer’s abuse.

Meg plead guilty to killing Lucifer, claiming Battered Person’s Syndrome. She was still sentenced to prison, as she wasn’t his current victim of abuse when she killed him, but the term was only for three years, with parole available on good behavior after two. She floated light despite the cuffs around her wrists, knowing she’d be back to help Rowena run the estate soon. And she’d be able to become a goddess of protection, not just justice and revenge.

“Your place will be waiting for you,” Rowena said softly through the two way phone line.

Meg smiled through the prison glass, nodding. “I know.”

[obsessedwithtoomanythings]

Ready to Give Up, Sammy?

Characters: Sam, Reader, Dean, Cas Pairing: Sam x Reader, mentions of Dean x Reader Warnings: Where do I start? NSWF, Oral sex (On male), Spanking with a belt, Dom and Sub dynamics (My first time writing this kind of thing), swearing, SMUT, light bondage, masturbating (just a lil), SUB!SAM. I think that’s it. Words: 2,144 (WHERE DID THIS COME FROM?!?!) Author’s Note: So this is for @loveitsallineed’s Playlist challenge, my song was Money, Power, Glory by Lana Del Ray (Link). I think this portrays the song, although I don’t really know. (Just saying, I HAVE NO CLUE WHERE THIS CAME FROM!! I just started writing and this happened and this is really long and REALLY smutty. Definitely not sorry though.)

It started small. Missing dollars mainly, then she upped her game. She swiped his wallet after a successful night of poker. Dean was completely oblivious to her deviancy, despite Sam telling him countless times what she was up to. Dean always defended her, claiming Sam was just jealous of the fantastic sex Dean was getting constantly from his vixen​. After the accusations, Dean started going out more. This didn't bother Sam, until one faithful evening, Dean brought her to the bunker.

"What is she doing here, Dean?" Sam yells, his chair scraping the wooden floors as he stands abruptly.

"There were no rooms available." Dean shrugs, leading the giggling woman towards his room. Sam grabs the chair and sits back down, grabbing his headphones so he doesn't have to listen to his brother fucking his current toy. After a an hour or so, Sam removes one headphone from his ear, and when met with silence, he gathers his things and heads off to bed.

The alarm going off is what pulls him out of sleep, and he groans, bringing his hand out to switch it off. Jogging clothes are hastily pulled on as he walks towards the kitchen for a bottle of water. The sight of her bent over the fridge is a shock to his system and he clears his throat. She bolts up at the sudden sound and looks at him with hooded eyes.

"Sam. I didn't hear you come in. Can I help you?' The question sounds less like a question, and more of a statement, and Sam's thin tolerance for her almost snaps.

"No. Wait, actually yes. You can leave. AND stop stealing from my brother."

"Stealing? I'm not stealing anything from anyone!" She defends, her hands coming up in mock surrender.

"Bullshit. You jacked my brother's wallet last weekend." He saw her take it, he was sure of it.

"I was giving it back, Sam."

No. She took​ it... Right? She had to have. It had​ to have been her. Right?... Maybe he was too quick to judge her. He must have seen it wrong.

"I'm sorry." He says, not willing to meet her Y/E/C eyes.

"It's okay. It happens. Maybe you're just stressed." She suggests, striding closer to him without him noticing.

"Probably." He admits, running a hand over his face. Only then does he see how close she's gotten to him.

"What are you doing?" He asks, eyeing her barely covered breasts and little blue shorts.

"Some stress relief." She giggles, shoving him so his ass is pressed against the edge of the cool countertop. Y/N then drops to her knees in front of him.

"But you and Dean are-"

"Dean and I have sex sometimes. Doesn't mean I can't help out someone who clearly needs some relief." She says, her voice raspy from sleep and arousal as she pulls his sweats down, revealing his clothed erection. Her lips ghost over it before pulling the saxx boxers down, allowing his thick cock to spring free.

"Well, Mr. Winchester, what else have you been hiding from me?" Sam is about to respond, but before he can, her lips wrap around him, surrounding his head in wet heat. The words he was about to speak die in his throat and turn into a deep groan that rips through him before he can stop it.

"You like that, Sammy?" She gasps, pulling herself off of him to speak. He glances down, taking in the sight of her. Y/N is on her knees, her purple tank top risen up to just below her breasts, allowing him a view of her toned stomach. Her eyes are lust-blown, the Y/E/C in her eyes barely visible, and her lips are glistening with spit and presume.

"Put your hand in my hair, baby." She mumbled, then goes back to work on his throbbing length. He threads his fingers through her Y/H/C locks like she insisted, his other hand slapping down on the counter behind him for balance. Her tongue swirls around his head before she slurps him down, her throat relaxing to accommodate him. He should be embarrassed by how quickly he can feel his release creeping up on him, but all he can think about is her warm wet mouth surrounding him. The moment she hollows out her cheeks, he knows he's done for. He lets out a deep groan as his seed shoots out into her mouth. He's panting out her name, along with curses as she swallows everything he gives her.

Sam's breaths are short and shaky as Y/N stands, pulling his boxers and sweats up with her.

"Not that you don't taste fantastic, but maybe a little warning next time." She says with a wink before walking out, leaving Sam alone with his thoughts and quickly softening cock.

Ever since that morning, Y/N is in the bunker more often, though, with Dean most of the time. Until one afternoon.

"Hey, I got a call from Randy. Needs some help with some vamps in Ohio." Dean says, striding into the library, still buttoning his flannel.

"Okay, I'll go grab my gear." Sam agrees, beginning to stand.

"No. I got this. Stay here with Y/N. She's still sleeping."

"What? Why?" Sam asks, shock and panic running through his mind.

"Cause I said so. Just do it, Sam." Dean orders, and Sam sits back down, a huff of frustration leaving his lungs. Within 10 minutes, Sam can hear the Impala drive away. Within 20, he hears Y/N walk into the library behind him.

"Where's Dean?" She questions, and he turns to face her. Her hair is mussed and tousled in the most sexy way, and her lips are swollen and pink. Her small frame is clad only in one of Dean's green and blue flannels, her feet bare.

"Went to help another hunter, couple states over."

"Why didn't you go with?" She asks, going to sit in the chair next to Sam, her fingers tracing over his bicep. The pull that Sam felt that morning is back, stronger now, causing him to lose himself in her again.

"He wanted me to be here when you woke up."

"Well, that was sweet. You look a little flushed, Sammy. Are you feeling okay?" She says, placing a hand on his forehead. Even though the gesture is small and innocent, it sends a spark to straight to his groin, forcing a moan from his lips. Despite the suddenness of the moan, Y/N doesn't seem surprised in the slightest. She grabs his hand and tugs him behind her. He wonders for a moment where she is leading him, then realizes she is heading towards his bedroom. Once at the door, she opens it quickly, using her grip on his hand to shove him roughly into the room.

"You ready to give up your control?" The words take Sam by surprise and he almost backs out. He's never really enjoyed someone else in control, but maybe she will be different, after all, he's never felt a pull this strong towards anyone. His nod of consent is all it takes for her to take control.

"Gonna be kinda hard for you to surrender with all those clothes on." Getting the memo, he pulls his flannel and undershirt over his head before practically ripping the constricting denim off his legs. He vaguely registers the belt clanging on the floor before he stops and stares at Y/N again.

"Did I stop to stop, Sammy?" Her voice is dripping dominance, and Sam wonders if he's ever been this hard in his whole life, as he pulls down his boxers to reveal his weeping length.

"You have such a pretty cock, baby. Why don't you sit down and show me how you touch yourself?" Despite that it's worded like a question, Sam knows it's anything but. The blanket is slightly chilly from the bunker air as Sam sits down. His fingers languidly wrap around his length, pumping slowly. Y/N's eyes stay locked on him for a few moments before slowly unbuttoning Dean's flannel, revealing her nudity beneath it.

"Baby, you look so-" But Sam doesn't get to finish the compliment. Y/N's hand swings out and clamps over his mouth. She leans forward so her lips graze over the shell of his ear when she speaks.

"Did I say you could talk, Sammy?" He shakes his head no, refusing to speak again unless given permission.

"What do you think your punishment should be, Sammy?" She continues, her breath continuing to tickle his ear. He thinks for a moment before speaking, knowing he has permission now.

"I think you should spank me." His voice sounds wrecked, but she pulls back, a smile decorating her features.

"You think?"

"You should spank me, Y/N." He confirms.

"Hands and knees then, Sammy." He moves quickly, following her command, his cock bobbing with the movement. He's surprised by his own submission and how excited he is to feel her palms slapping down on his ass. However, it's not her hand he feels. The lick of leather on his ass forces a yelp from his throat, a spurt of precome dribbling onto the comforter.

"I'm gonna hit you 4 more times with your belt, then you're going to flip over and I'm going to ride that thick cock. Understand?"

"Yes, Y/N."

"Good. Count for me."

He's a bit more prepared for the next smack, but it still forces a groan from him.

"What did I say, Sammy?" She demands, her soft hand running over the welt on his ass, soothing the burn.

"2."

"Good boy."

Another smack, although delivered to the other cheek this time.

"3."

Smack.

"4."

​Smack.

"5."

After the final number leaves his lips, he flips onto his back, his bottom tingling from the contact with the rough comforter.

"Scoot up the bed." He again does exactly as he's told. Using the same belt she just used to whip his ass, she secures his hands to the headboard.

"Now, Sammy, I'm gonna ride you, but you are not gonna come. Understand?"

"Yes, Y/N."

"Good boy."

And with that, she sinks down on his almost aching cock. A groan rips from him, and he worries for a moment before Y/N winks at him. She brings her hands up, threading through her Y/H/C locks as her rolls her hips onto his, moans leaving her lips before she speaks.

"Fuck, Sammy. You're lasting so much longer than your brother." She pants out, and despite it being his brother she is talking about, a twinge of pride flows through him at her words.

"Now let's see if you can handle this." She smirks, then raises herself so he almost slips from her wet heat. He groans from the loss, missing the slick slide of her.

"Beg." Is all she says before words pour out his mouth.

"Please, Y/N. Please, please, please ride me. Please."

"Close. What do you want?"

"I want you to ride me. Please Y/N?" But one glance at her and Sam knows that's not what she wants to hear. Through his lust clouded mind, one thing comes to mind.

"Please, Y/N. Please fuck me. Please?"

"Of course, Sammy." Her sinking down on him almost sends him over the edge. He manages to hold on, for her sake as much as his own. Suddenly, a voice sounding from behind them clears the fog around them.

"SAM?!" They both look, expecting Dean, but are met with the trench coat wearing angel.

"Cas?! What are you-"

"Close your eyes, Sam!" Cas orders, before raising his hand, his eyes turning a bright white light, as Sam listens and closes his eyes.

The last thing Sam hears before blacking out is Y/N's screams.

"She was a what?" Dean asks for the 3rd time.

"A Seelensauger. It's German for Soul Sucker. They are able to take human form and using some form of mind control, they seduce men into sex, and consume their souls during intercourse, particularly during ejaculation." Cas explains, the brother's cheeks heating up and their stupid and almost fatal mistake.

"Are we okay?" Sam asks, his ass still stinging from the bite of his belt.

"Other than the emotional scars, yes. Your souls are intact." Sam and Dean glance at each other before Cas vanishes, accompanied by the light fluttering of the angel's broken wings. Dean grabs his beer, taking a swig before speaking.

"At least she didn't spank you with your own belt."

"She did." Sam chuckles, taking a sip of his own beer.

"Son of bitch. She got us both then." They sit, drinking their beer and picking at their burgers before Dean speaks again.

"Do you need some lotion?"

"Dude!"

"I needed some! There is no shame!" Dean defends, and they sit awkward silence for a few moments before Sam speaks up.

"Do you have any?"

Abbi’s Favs Tag List: @classicteenagenothing @jared-padaloveme @anacfs @22kaitlyn22 (If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list, send me an ask)

[isometimeswritesomethings]

The Judge

Characters: (Demon)Dean x Reader, Sam

Warnings: Swears

Word Count: 1545

A/N: Written for Karolina’s Playlist Challenge – The Judge by TwentyOne Pilots

“Y/N, please!”

You heard his voice and cringed, the pain dripping from his words. Even Sam winced next to you, his previous steadfast certainty in this cause wavering slightly when he heard his brother’s voice echoing down the hallways. Holding your face in your hands you tried to steady your breathing but every shout from Dean made your heart jump and the lump in your throat grow. It wasn’t Dean, you kept telling yourself that, but that didn’t help the fact that all you could hear was your boyfriend’s cries from behind the steel door of the dungeon. You knew he just wanted you to open the door so he could spit insults at you and his brother, his soul twisted and frozen, no longer a warmth you felt safe with.

 You found yourself sitting in the hallway outside of the door, listening to the silence on the other side of the steel which was deafening since his dismal whines ceased. You knew he couldn’t get out, the warding which covered the four walls and the devil’s trap beneath his feet not only holding him but declaring to you and Sam that what was inside the bunker, dressing like Dean, looking like Dean, sounding like Dean, was far from, Dean.

 A choking noise erupted from behind the door and pulled you from your thoughts as you hugged your knees closer to your chest. Standing, you opened the dungeon door, no longer able to ignore him and took in his panting form in the circle of light which bathed him. The shards of broken glass from the light bulb he smashed with his mind trying to fight Sam as he pushed him into the painted circle on the floor still laid around him as he lifted his chin to follow the creaking noise the door made.

 “Dean?!” concern was thick in your voice, the coughs still wracking his body. You stepped into the room, but even your concern didn’t allow you to cross the red paint on the floor, keeping a distance you watched as his breathing levelled out. “Dean, you ok?”

“You can be the judge of that sweetheart, set me free and I’ll show you,” he flashed his teeth in a wide grin that made you shiver. You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t deny the rush you felt seeing that smile and hearing those words.

“It’s still me sweetheart, just a bit more fun,” his tongue darted out to his lip as he smiled, and you wrestled with yourself. No. This is a bad idea. You’d regret this. But you couldn’t deny how great it’d definitely be.

“Or are you keeping me locked up in here so I won’t catch you fucking my little brother?”

“Fuck you Dean, that’s cold,” you spat, turning to storm out.

“Well Hell’s hot for good reason, darlin’” he shouted after you as you slammed the door.  

 You stormed past Sam who was walking towards you and you muttered something about needing some air before you disappeared into the garage and turned the key in your own car. You sped away from the bunker, down the winding roads leading to the main street heading nowhere in particular just needing to get away. The rain was pelting the windscreen as you hid your mouth behind your hands, trying hard to fight the tears. The hardware store behind you gave you a small distraction and you picked up your phone and keys and headed inside, grateful for this mundane change of scenery.

 The bright white light of the store made you cringe, having lived in the relative darkness of the bunker for so long you took a moment to acclimatise. The late hour and weather meant the store was in silence, and you started to slowly wander down each aisle, looking for one thing but not with any real conviction. You forced a weak smile to the young man stacking shelves as you passed him, and took the box from the shelf, examining it carefully before heading to pay.

On the walk back to the car you realised you needed to go back. All this silence and time to think let your mind wander and your doubts creep up alongside you. You shouldn’t have left Sam alone with Dean. What if something had happened? What if you hadn’t drawn the trap properly and Dean had just been waiting all this time for you to leave to attack? He’d made it clear he would never hurt you but…

You shook the thought away, climbing into your car and setting the box of lightbulbs on the seat next to you as you set off back home. A shrill ringing in the seat next to you made you jump and you fumbled to grab your phone without taking your eyes off the road.

Before you even got out a ‘hello?’ you heard Sam’s voice, panicked and terrifying.

“Y/N, listen to me, do not come back here.” Sam’s hushed tones suggested he was hiding or out of breath, or both.

“Sam, wh-“

“Please, Y/N, he got out, somehow, it’s not safe here, I’ll let you know when he’s back in the trap.”

“Sam, wait how did he-“ the line went dead and you pushed your foot down harder on the accelerator, turning off the main street and down, through the trees towards the bunker. There was no way you were leaving Sam to deal with this alone. Dean wouldn’t hurt you, at least that’s what you hoped. You should’ve stayed inside.

You slammed the heavy iron door of the bunker and stomped down the stairs. The silence was deafening as you wandered through, holes in the walls of the corridor above your head and you cringed.

The lights were off; your memory of the place you’d called home for so many years helping you navigate towards the last place you knew Dean had been.

You headed to the dungeon, immediately seeing what had happened. You kicked yourself at the spectacular mistake you’d made, leaving the shards of broken glass on the floor where he could scratch at the red paint with it under his boot. The rope which once held him was strewn on the floor and the door was wide open. You quickly shuffled to reseal the trap, before running back out into the hallway.

“Dean?” you called out. He seemed to emerge from the darkness.

Red lights suddenly flicked on above you and you realised he’d clicked his fingers.

“Can’t get enough of lean, mean Dean, can you sweetheart?” he cocked his eyebrow, his longer than normal hair flopping forward as he stood away from the wall he was leaning against.

“Where’s Sam?” you ignored his goading as much as you could.

“Alive, for now,” he winked and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Couldn’t tell you sweetheart. Behind a warding somewhere. Always was too smart for his own good.”

You breathed a sigh of relief which didn’t go unnoticed.

With a chuckle he stepped towards you, “why? You worried about lover boy?”

You thought fast, well, really, you didn’t think much at all, reaching out and fisting your hands in the collar of his maroon shirt, pulling him towards you. You crashed your lips to his, a searing kiss which fed your curiosity as well as served its purpose. He was on the back foot as you moved him into the dungeon. His eyes shut as he took your bottom lip between his, dragging it between his teeth, his hands all over you. You moaned against his mouth as his tongue explored, your hands moving across his chest and to his sides pulling him closer to you as you stepped backwards. You smiled against his lips as you realised he was once again inside the trap, but you didn’t break away from his kiss. His hand wrapped around the back of your neck and you felt a shiver as he broke the kiss. Holding you against him as he moved the hand down to the column of your throat. You gasped, sudden fear setting in but there was a softness in his eyes which meant you weren’t as afraid as you probably should be.

“When I’m King, you’ll rule with me,” he breathed. Lathing wet kisses across your cheek to your ear. You bit back against the moan you felt. Your hands still tightly wrapped in his black tshirt. “We could use that kind of thinking downstairs,” he chuckled.

“King?” you shuddered.

“Of Hell,” he barely broke his lips away from your skin to speak. You couldn’t form coherent words. It was Dean’s warm lips on your skin, Dean’s gravelly voice in your ear, Dean’s strong hands on your ass, but there was a different air about him and in this moment it was becoming damn near irresistible.

“I don’t hear any objections…” the rumble of his laugh shook through you. You didn’t know if you wanted to object. You didn’t know if you being here, holding him, letting him kiss you, was a surrender or a revel.

 @stephymarie2012 , @ruuuuuskimychica , @jxackles , @busybee612 , @jazminwinchester, @tardis-is-mine, @kbl1313, @a-sea-of-fandoms, @cuffski @loveitsallineed

[soulless-slytherin-sleuth]

Gloves

Karolina’s Playlist (1k Followers Challenge)

Prompt: How to be a Heartbreaker by Marina and the Diamonds

Pairing: Dean x Reader if you squint at the end

Warnings: Blood, sass, death, a little language, and a lot of angst

Summary: You pride yourself on your cool composure, but one day you snap. That’s literally it. Wow.

A/N: My first challenge! Thanks so much for hosting it, @loveitsallineed 

As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated. Enjoy, my loves!

Word Count: 2,103 (Got slightly carried away :)

“Either of you boys happen to have a bandage?” You breathed heavily as blood ran down your arm. Dean had managed to salt and burn the bones of the spirit that the three of you were hunting, but not before she had sliced right through your right palm.

It was lucky, really. She almost got your face, and it would have been a lot harder to seduce some poor guy in a bar with a wicked looking scar across your cheekbone.

“Sorry, Y/N,” Sam grunted as he heaved himself up off the ground where the spirit had thrown him. “We’re close to the motel, though. The med kit’s back there.”

You rolled your eyes and frowned at the usual Winchester incompetence, clenching your bleeding hand, knowing that it was going to take a good five washes of cold water to get the blood out of your gloves. AND you’d have to stitch them back up tonight too. Perfect.

You tossed your gun into the back seat of the Impala and slid in beside it. Dean admonished you darkly to be nice to Baby before he and Sam climbed into the car, which made you smirk. You loved getting under his skin. The engine roared to life and Dean sped out of the cemetery and out onto the road.

Keeping your injured hand clenched tightly, you inspected the army green gloves you hardly ever took off. They were fingerless, reaching to the middle of your forearm, and decorated with tarnished brass buttons. Honestly, they were due for a wash anyway, and though you’d willingly cut off your arm before you’d admit it to anyone else, sewing always calmed you down. Once you stitched yourself back up, you were in for a well-earned night of rest.

“How you holding up, Y/N?” Sam turned around in his seat to make sure you hadn’t passed out.

“Fine, Samantha, even though I don’t remember asking for your concern,” you said, lacing your tone with ice. His eyes widened only marginally at your snap, which was good - he was getting used to your strict, unattached demeanor.

Dean, on the other hand, slammed on the brakes and whirled around. “Alright, that’s it. I don’t give a damn if you constantly rail on me, but leave Sammy out of it.” His eyes flashed at you, ignoring the placating hand Sam placed on his shoulder.

You felt a condescending smile tug at your lips and said, “Oh, how cute. Big Brother Dean coming to little Samantha’s rescue. Adorable,” You leaned forward and booped Dean on his freckled nose with your gloved hand, just to drive him up the wall.

“Dean, ignore her,” Sam said. “She’s just trying to rile you up.”

“It’s working,” you sing-songed. “Now, come on, before I bleed out back here.”

Steaming, Dean turned back around and kept driving, grumbling under his breath about how that wouldn’t exactly be a bad thing.

The three of you arrived back at the motel, eager to get out of each other’s company. You grabbed the med kit and peeled off both of your gloves, plopping down on the tiled kitchen floor so that one of the boys would be able to shower in the empty bathroom. Dean may think you were a bitch, but you weren’t all bad.

Your hand shook a little bit as you reached for the rubbing alcohol. It was going to sting a lot, thanks to the number of nerve endings you knew were in your hand. You gritted your teeth, snatching the bottle quickly and dumping its contents over your palm.

You gasped, and quickly bit down on your shirt to muffle any sounds. Tears squeezed out unbidden from behind your eyes as your breathing slowly evened back out. You spat out the mouthful of fabric after the pain receded some, and tried to thread the needle with dental floss. You were right handed, though, and threading a needle with your non-dominant hand proved to be a massive challenge.

“Can I help?” Sam asked, looking up from his bed where he had been icing a bump on his head. Dean must be the one in the shower, then.

“No,” you hissed, more in pain than annoyance, still too consumed by the sting to come up with a snarky reply. Sam shrugged and shifted his ice around a bit, clicking on the TV while he waited for the shower.

The floss finally decided to cooperate, and you sewed yourself up with small, shaky stitches. You took a breath after it was over, glancing down at the blood that had spilled onto the floor and deciding it could wait to be cleaned until after your shower. You eased off your bloody jacket and placed it next to your gloves on the table. You inspected your body for other cuts in the mirror, but found only a few blossoming bruises.

When Dean opened the bathroom door, you shot through the opening, slamming the door behind you before Sam had a chance to grab it. He groaned in frustration.

The hot shower felt heavenly, except on your fresh stitches, which you hadn’t wrapped up because you wanted to put on dry gauze. It was over far too soon, but it still felt nice to be in clean clothes again.

You opened the bathroom door to Sam’s irritated, “Finally,” as you grinned and rubbed a towel over your hair.

“Don’t be a baby, Samantha. I was only in there for like ten minutes,” you said, laughing a little. He just scoffed and closed the door.

Dean was on his bed, watching whatever trash was on the TV at this hour. You grabbed some detergent you found under the sink, as well as a needle and thread you kept in your bag, then walked over to the table where you left your gloves and jacket.

Only problem was, they weren’t there.

“Uh, Dean?” You starting panicking a little.

“What?”

“Did you take my gloves? Or Sam?”

“That ratty pile of clothes that was on the table? I figured you were done with them so I took them to the dumpster out back,” He said, his eyes glued to the TV screen.

Your stomach dropped.

“You what?” You managed to squeak out, your voice higher than usual.

Dean finally looked up. “They were all torn up from the hunt, so I threw them away. I didn’t want any motel staff finding bloody clothes in our trash so I took them to the dumpster myself. Is there a problem?”

Rather than answering, you launched yourself across the room with a loud scream. Dean’s eyes widened as you threw yourself on top of him and started kicking out in rage. He was caught off guard, so you got the upper hand quickly and just lost it. You didn’t notice the stitches you were popping, or the bruises that screamed when you moved that fast, just focused on ripping into Dean.

Suddenly, a large hands grabbed you from behind and lifted you off Dean, kicking and screaming. “Y/N!” Sam’s voice shouted in your ear. “Y/N, what the hell? Calm down!”

You struggled against his grip before going limp and breaking down in sobs. Dean looked shocked at the sudden appearance of tears, and you couldn’t bear his eyes on you in that moment. Ripping Sam’s hands from your body, you rushed outside into the cool night air.

“Mama? Can I have gloveth like Athley’th for my birthday?”

Your mother looked at you with sadness in her eyes, biting her lip. “I’m sorry, Y/N, but we don’t really have the money to buy gifts right now. Maybe put it on your list for Christmas, okay love?”

“O-tay, Mama,” you went away sadly. You just wanted to be like your big sister.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” Ashley shook you awake with a smile. “Come see my present!” Your eyes snapped open and you grinned, missing your two front teeth.

“Prethent?” You asked, jumping out of bed. Ashley swung you onto her back and gave you a ride to the kitchen. You squealed when you saw a package wrapped in newspaper on the table.

“Open it, open it!” She cheered.

Your tiny fingers ripped open the paper to reveal a pair of beautiful fingerless green gloves, exactly like Ashley’s. You gasped, sliding them on your hands.

“Hm. A little big, but you’ll grow into them,” Ashley said, a grin practically splitting her face open. “Do you like them?”

“I wuv them!” You screeched, pulling Ashley into a hug. “Thank you, Athley!”

She laughed. “You’re welcome, shorty. Want to help me bake your cake?”

“Yeth!” You shrieked. You grabbed Ashley’s hand as you jumped down from the table. “Wait. Where are your gloveth, Athley?” You asked innocently.

Ashley just smiled sadly, pulling her long sleeves over her now bare hands.

“Y/N, come on! We’re going to be late for school!” Ashley called.

“I can’t find my gloves!” You yelled frantically, running down the stairs.

“They’re right here, you goof! I have them, now come on!” Ashley swung you and your backpack up onto her motorcycle, the one she found in a junkyard and painstakingly repaired, piece by piece.

“Don’t forget the helmet,” Ashley chided you, plopping the slightly dirty helmet over your eyes.

“You don’t have to wear a helmet,” You grumbled.

“That’s cause there’s only one, silly,” She revved the motor and took off down the street.

The ride was quiet for a few moments as you both enjoyed the cool fall morning.

The peace of the moment was shattered by the pickup truck that came out of nowhere. “Ashley!” You screamed as it barreled towards the both of you.

The helmet was the only reason you survived.

Ashley wasn’t so lucky.

You forced your brain back to the present, swiping at the tears that were soaking your face. Arriving at the dumpster, you heaved the lid open and climbed in, seething. How dare you let your composure drop in front of the boys? You made such a scene, you scolded yourself as you rooted through the rotting garbage. You prided yourself on keeping your emotions in check, never being the one to initiate a hook up and always the first to leave. You were guarded. A heartbreaker. And you liked that title.

You didn’t let people in. It just ended in pain and tears.

“Gotcha,” you sniffed, snatching up the left glove, and the right one soon after. Heaving yourself out of the bin, you steeled yourself for your return to the motel room. You walked toward the door,  rubbing the tears from your cheeks.

You didn’t have a key, so you knocked.

Sam was the one who opened the door. You didn’t look at his face, just pushed gently past him into the room. You didn’t look at Dean either, just walked to the sink and began to wash the blood and dirt from your precious gloves.

The tension in the room was so thick, you’d need a battle axe to cut it. After fifteen minutes, the gloves were suitably clean and you threaded a needle to stitch them up. You sat down on the kitchen floor and pulled your knees to your chest, well aware that both boys were watching you intently. You lost yourself in the sewing, concentrating on making each stitch neat and even. Before you knew it, it was all fixed up. You laid both gloves on the heater to dry and took a breath.

Someone took your injured hand, and you jumped a bit. “May I?” Dean asked, holding another needle, threaded with floss. You looked down and realized that almost every stitch you’d made in your skin hand popped out, thanks to your fight with Dean earlier. You nodded, and Dean guided you over to his bed and sat you down. Sam was fast asleep in the opposite one, snoring lightly.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “I shouldn’t have blown up at you like that.”

“It’s okay,” Dean said, not looking up from the stitches he was making. “I shouldn’t have thrown your stuff away without asking.”

You nodded, accepting his apology. “They’re special,” you breathed out, not even sure if he’d heard you and praying that he hadn’t. “The gloves.”

“Special how?” Dean asked. You jumped a little more from the pain of the stitches than from his voice.

Dean put a steadying hand on your waist. “Hold still.”

You sighed. It still hurt, after all these years, to think of Ashley. “My sister gave them to me,” You said softly. “On my seventh birthday.”

[roxy-davenport]

Sex, Lies and Horror Films

Pairing: Crowley x Reader, (Previously Lucifer x Reader)

Word Count: 2,459

A/N: This was written for, @thing-you-do-with-that-thing’s SPN Movie Night Challenge with the prompt the Omen. This was also written for @loveitsallineed  Karolina’s Playlist (1K Followers Celebration Challenge) with the prompt, “Whispers in the Dark” by Skillet. I never knew the band made love songs. Thank you for letting me change the prompt.  Love ya girl. Giant hug. Mwah! Fluff ahead. 

 Summary: These are always so tricky since I don’t want to give anything away. Sometimes it’s best to face your fears with someone else, who can love and protect you.

 Also on AO3

Lucifer was wandering around this small town enjoying the victory. More towns would fall.

 Lucifer took the evening away from his fervent followers to walk around the wreckage. His feet took him two towns over to a curiously light bar aptly named Hell. How could he resist? He didn’t expect anything and certainly not that a human would catch his eye.

 Nick, Lucifer’s vessel, had needs like any other human, which was downright annoying most of the time. Nick’s body was consumed with what Lucifer learned was lust. It was a rather strange emotion for him. As soon as he saw you, he gravitated towards you like a spider in a web. Lucifer touched your face with such gentleness. His eyes shone as if they were lit from within. There was such a magnetic power in those eyes as they looked curiously upon you.

 “You are such an intriguing little thing. All these long years – nothing. And then you come along and I have a need for you.”

 He stepped forward and took a deep breath against your neck, smelling your intoxicating perfume.

 “I crave you,” he all but growled. His eyes changed from curiosity to hunger in seconds.

 You thought you had lucked out. You were a hunter and so no stranger to intense one-night stands. Nevertheless, you were surprised when he actually called the next day. You’d had the most intense sex you’ve had in years and you were happy about this not being just a one-off. He texted you a lot, maybe too much, and then nothing. You figured it would end; things always did. That was the life of a hunter but not even a call or text. Wow! That was downright cold. And for someone who came on so strong, it seemed a bit odd, so you sent out feelers through the hunter grapevine that led you to the Winchesters, which in turn led you to two brothers fighting in a field. The second Sam saw you he smirked.

 “Snake eyes.” You froze -- goosebumps appearing all over your body. For some weird reason that’s what Nick called you, maybe due to your amazing poker skills.

 “Nick?”

 The badly beaten man looked confused growing as he turned your way.

 “Actually it’s Lucifer. Whoops. Yeah…I guess I should have told you.”

 “Pregnant with my child. This should be fun. Ohhh the things I’ll teach my boy. Be right with you, dear. I just need to kill Dean. Hold on.”

 You were frozen to the spot. Not only did you just have a heated affair with the devil himself, which as a hunter is like the ultimate sin, but you were pregnant. Oh course Lucifer would know before you did. It had been three weeks since you saw him. Your legs gave out and you stumbled to the ground. Lucifer looked at you, amused. He thought it was adorable seeing you all broken like that. Humans were so fragile. He turned back to Dean with renewed interest when Dean grabbed a tin soldier. Lucifer practically groaned that this was his master plan but he could feel Sam’s love and emotions taking over. He was losing his grip on the meat suit. He screamed at Sam to shut up and fought tooth and nail to gain back control but he couldn’t and before he knew it, he was being thrown into the hole. His eyes wide, suddenly worried about you and what would happen to his child.

 Despite the lies that you're making

Your love is mine for the taking

My love is

Just waiting

To turn your tears to roses

 It took you a long time to recover from that news. The Winchesters helped you, possibly from pity for a beginning hunter being fooled by the devil himself but pity was OK. You had a place to go and you didn’t want to be alone. You quickly fell into a groove with them but kept the secret about your pregnancy.

 The second Crowley met you he was taken with you. There was a purity in you that he imagined attracted Lucifer as well and with someone who was a hunter, that’s quite rare. He thought of you often and hated how much Lucifer had hurt you. Crowley wanted to whisk you away and sweep you off your feet but he needed to give you more time. You were too raw and hurt. You had too much self-hatred about what happened, thinking you were a bad hunter or damaged. Crowley just thought you were too trusting -- simple as that. And he wanted to prove to you that if you trusted the right person, the world could be a wonderful place. He had to come to you in the right way and make sure you’d say yes. He would keep you safe and raise your son.

 I will be the one that's gonna hold you

I will be the one that you run to

My love is

A burning, consuming fire

 No

You'll never be alone

When darkness comes I'll light the night with stars

Hear my whispers in the dark

No

You'll never be alone

When darkness comes you know I'm never far

Hear my whispers in the dark

 Your rational mind told you it was ridiculous to be frightened. You were a big girl, a hunter. You had faced down the scariest of monsters and lived to tell the tale.  But this was different. If the boys found out, you had no idea what you’d tell them. You couldn’t imagine the shame and anger on their faces. It would ruin you. So you lied and said the baby was from a guy you met on a hunt and you didn’t want to bring him in. It was too dangerous. Sadly the lies fell off your lips easily, too easily for your taste. Everyone believed you. I mean who wants to bring a civilian into this world. And accidents do happen; condoms aren’t 100 percent effective. You could get pregnant from a summer fling at a bar. You knew that when the baby was born, you would have to run, run away from the only family you’ve even known because you wouldn’t be able to hide the truth.

 With shaking fingers you turned on The Omen 2. It was time to face your fears. You’d been dreading this movie ever since you found out. With shaky hands you pressed “play.” The boys were out on a hunt. You told them you weren’t feeling well, morning sickness or some BS. They believed you of course, kissed you on your forehead, and left the bunker. You snuggled under the blankets, coffee in hand as you started to watch the movie.

 Truthfully you didn’t even know you were doing it. You just started crying.  Thoughts of Lucifer on your mind and sadly not all the memories were bad. It would be easier if they were. He started off nice and gentle but then he became critical, cynical, curious to push your buttons and see what happened like you were a fly under a microscope. Your tryst was short lived and to be honest, all the damn clues were right there. You felt like an idiot for not guessing something was up. Damn you and bad boys. And here you were alone, pregnant and fucking crying at The Omen 2. How pathetic was that?

 You feel so lonely and ragged

You lay here broken and naked

My love is

Just waiting

To clothe you in crimson roses

 I will be the one that's gonna find you

I will be the one that's gonna guide you

My love is

A burning, consuming fire

 Crumpled up tissues were all over the floor, your face was flushed with obvious tear tracks. You looked down at your growing stomach when you noticed polished black shoes. Your eyes followed the form all the way up to his face. You quirked your eyebrow when you saw it was Crowley. Your hand inched towards the pillow with a demon knife under it. Crowley frowned and waved his hand making the knife clatter to the ground.

 “Harming you in any way is never my intention, pet.”

 Crowley stared at your face reading the worry and fear. He smiled warmly at you. He had waited for his chance to be with you. Ever since you showed up with the boys at his mansion to get the Colt, he had his sights set on you. But you were a hunter and his goal then was to become the King of Hell. He had quite a ways to go to get that position and declaring a human woman as his would have only gotten you both killed. But now he was the King and he could set his own rules. He could choose whomever he wanted as his Queen. And if his followers didn’t like it, he would kill the lot of them.

 He made his movements slow, his hands raised to show you, prove to you that he meant no harm. You watched his movements carefully not fully buying the whole “I-came-here-to-be-your-friend” act. He sat on the edge of the bed. His hand lightly grabbed your ankle.

 “Relax, poppet. I’m her to watch. What is this? The Omen?”

 “Omen 2. I already watched The Omen.”

 His head slowly moved back to yours looking again at the tear tracks and the tissues. He sighed and gave you a knowing smile. He slowly moved the blanket out of the way.

 “Jesus, Crowley. You’re fucking Moriarty. How the hell did you--?”

 He moved closer, his hand cupping your cheek.

 “I didn’t get to be the King by being a moron, love.  How far along are you?”

 “Four months.”

 “Hm… I take it Moose and Squirrel are in the dark about this.”

 You nodded vigorously, tears threatening to fall. You hands bunched on the sheets.

 “None of that now, dearie. No tears. Crowley’s here and I’ll take care of you. The Hardy boys won’t be too thrilled about this. I can imagine what might happen to you, dove, but don’t you worry your pretty little head. I’ll take care of you.”

 Crowley moved next to you on the bed, his head on the headboard and his arms just waiting, itching to hold you.

 You turned your face to his.

 “What? Crowley I --.”

 He moved a finger to your mouth resisting the urge to grab your pajama top and cram his lips on yours.

 “I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you. The fearless hunter, the sensitive emotional young woman with a fiery temper and a sass that rivals even mine. You’re all I think about and I will keep you safe.”

 Your brain was working overtime. Never in your wildest imagination did you think Crowley would ever like you. Truth be told, you had always liked him since the moment you met him. But everything was happening so fast. You didn’t want to just rush into his arms. You couldn’t do that. You needed to heal from what happened with Lucifer. You were nearly there and then Crowley shows up. You also had to work this out with the Winchesters and you had to watch this damn movie and allay your fears of what your child could do.

 “Crowley I- I never thought. I just need time. I like you…I just...”

 Crowley grabbed your shoulders and pushed your body into his.

 “I’m yours. Take as much time as you need but know that I will be here when you need me.”

 You snuggled into his chest feeling safer than you had felt in a long time.  You started watching the scene, in shock and horror at what Damien was doing. What he was capable of. Crowley felt your fear and snuggled you closer to him.

 “But what if the baby has claws?”

 “Claws? You were watching Rosemary’s Baby before weren’t you?”

 “Well, how else am I supposed to know about the devil’s baby? It’s not exactly like I can look up what to expect. It’s not going to be in any bookstore.”

 “So you turn to fictional characters in movies?”

 “I’m freaking out. Where else can I find answers? The baby will have powers, right? Well, look at this scene. Damien is literally crushing his skull, the skull of his own stepbrother. Look at those eyes, the lack of emotion. It’s terrifying. What if my child is that cold and heartless? What if he has those powers? In the first movie Damien killed his parents. I’m a human, a hunter. And I have a child growing inside me that will kill everyone, will have an unquenchable thirst for blood? How do I protect myself, much less the world? I mean I thought I could raise him to be good, teach him not to kill. Now watching these movies, I just don’t know.

 “Let me stop you there, dove. This is a movie, pet. Your child is a nephillim, not whatever Damien is. He has you as a mother and me as a father, if you’ll let me. And I’ll make bloody well sure he isn’t a homicidal maniac. Prince of hell, maybe, but psychopath, no. He’ll have all the power any little boy would want. No need to gain any more. The bloody Winchesters will NEVER lay one hand on your precious body -- that I can promise you. The same goes for my demons.“

 He smiled back at you warmly, love clearly in his eyes. You smiled up at him. Queen of Hell did have a nice ring to it.

 You stayed snuggled into Cowley’s arms knowing you had the love and protection of the King of Hell. Suddenly The Omen 2 looked comical, your fears lessening after what he said. Your child wouldn’t be like any of these representations of human fear. This child was half angel and had you as a mother and you’d be damned if you let your child become evil. These images of satanic children held no fear anymore. They were just reminders of how much love and work you’d have to put into being a mother.

 You heard the door to the bunker swing open. Dean called out to you. Crowley kissed your forehead.

 “If you need anything, call me -- 666.”

 You smiled back at him as you took the DVD out of the player. Crowley was content knowing that he made you feel better. He was slowly winning you over. With a snap he disappeared. You cleaned up your appearance so the boys wouldn’t know you had been crying. Smiling your closed your bedroom door on all the pain and sadness and went into the kitchen to talk to the boys.

Tagging

Forevers: @loveitsallineed, @killerofthesouth, @charliebradbury1104, @chaos-and-the-calm67, @chelsea072498, @everyday-supernatural-af, @kalliravenne, @toogardenenthusiast, @winchesterprincessbride, @one-shots-supernatural, @take-me-tonirvana

Crowley: @vintagevalentinexx, @thinkwritexpress, @mysupernaturalfics, @gadreelsforbiddenfruit, @curliesallovertheplace, @jencharlan, @growleytria, @samtomydeanwinchester, @i-never-said-a-pilot, @kayteonline, @faith-in-dean, @trenchcoat-and-bees, @skybinx-blog, @thebunkerismyhome, @feelmyroarrrr, @gimmethepieandnoonegetshurt, @for-the-love-of-dean, @salvachester. @beachy2014, @sunriserose1023, @sis-tafics, @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave, @babypieandwhiskey, @wayward-mirage, @ferferelli, @katnharper, @crzcorgi, @ellen-reincarnated1967, @deerlululucy, @manawhaat, @iridianuniverse, @shortandlongstories, @chrisatplay, @jotink78, @notnaturalanahi, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @helvonasche, @impala-dreamer, @frenchybell, @cici0507, @captain-princess-rose, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @memariana91, @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid, @blushingsamgirl, @bkwrm523, @salvachester, @for-the-love-of-dean, @deansleather, @supernatural-jackles, @ilovedean-spn2, @jpadjackles, @wi-deangirl77, @fandommaniacx, @writingbeautifulmen, @mysaintsasinner, @winchester-writes, @wildfirewinchester, @whispersandwhiskerburn, @deathtonormalcy56

[curliesallovertheplace]

The Meanings of Fire

Pairing: Sam x reader

Prompt: Arsonist’s Lullabye - Hozier

Words: 497 (I know it’s a little short, but it felt finished)

Warnings: Angst, mentions of canon character deaths, fluffy ending!

A/N: This is my entry for Karolina’s Playlist (1k Followers Celebration Challenge) by @loveitsallineed. Hope you enjoy, sweetie!

A/N 2: Thanks to @roxy-davenport for being an awesome beta and for assuring me what I have written is okay!

The younger Winchester stared into the open flames, watching the orange swirls twist and turn around the charring bones, the porous material crumbling down to ashes. Something in it held a power, the fire destroying everything it touched. Sam could barely tear his eyes away from the dainty yet devastating force of nature. Thoughts raced and danced through his mind like the flames did before him, the delicate movements hypnotizing.

The last moments with his mother were branded by the same burning ribbons of fire; the death of his girlfriend mirroring Mary’s, the fire of hell scorching his soul, Charlie’s hunter funeral and many others. Since that dreaded day in his childhood the destructive force had followed him throughout his life. It had been a demon chasing after him, blackening every memory it passed, haunting him in his dreams. He was too young to remember his mother plastered to the ceiling in a sea of flames, but with Jessica it was different, the images vividly etched in his brain, reminding him of the tragedy every once in awhile. Tonight was one of those nights; her body pinned on his retina as he stared into the flames.

The smell of gasoline invaded his senses, a familiarity coming with it. The distinct scent left a trail down into his memories, whether it was him pouring the liquid over a bag of bones or his younger self’s nose picking up the little remnants stinking his brother and father’s clothes.

A pair of arms wrapping around him from behind pulled his thoughts away from the fire and back to the now. The hunter smiled as he grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. He pulled you to his front, enjoying your embrace. Suddenly the fire wasn’t a demon anymore. It didn’t represent death and destruction like it used to.

And it was all because of you.

When you had rolled into his life, Sam couldn’t have imagined how you would change the way he looked at the world around him. It wasn’t dull anymore and pain didn’t overpower his every thought. You gave fire a different and better meaning.

It represented love and passion and happiness-- all the things the younger Winchester had given up on. Fire meant roasting marshmallows on little wooden sticks, burning his tongue on the hot goo. It meant blowing out candles on a birthday cake, which you had counted to match his age, aligning them in the thirty somethings. It meant cuddling up in front of a fireplace. It meant romantic date nights with candlelit dinners. It meant safety and warmth.

The flaming demons weren’t gone, but you had tamed them, helped Sam put them on a leash. You had ignited a new kind of fire burning inside of him, stoking the flames of desire and lust for life. He could never forget his past, but with you in his life his future shone brighter than the most intense of fires.

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Forever Tags:

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