#oh my god I found another old grunt doodle that I still love a lot

[sikyurame]

HEADS UP!

[icecream-and-gadreel]

FMK Ch. 1: Dean, Sam, Castiel (NSFW)

Series Summary: The trickster is known for his cruel, oftentimes deadly pranks. So when you, Sam, and Dean found out he was up to his old ways again, you came with reinforcements. What should have been a swift victory turned into you being stuck in the wildest game you've ever played in your life.

Summary: You close in on the Trickster's hiding place, but soon fall prey to one of his pranks.

Pairing: Readerxvarious

Other characters: Dean, Sam, Castiel, Charlie, Bobby, Gabriel

Rating: NSFW (Quick! Read it while your boss isn't looking!)

Warnings: Blanket Warning: Due to the nature of the series, everything has dubious consent! Language, oral sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up), violence, implied death, hallucinations

Word count: 1900+

Eternity squad: @sheinthatfandom​ @greenshinigamieyes @lipstickandwhiskey @feelmyroarrrr @bcarolinablr @mrswhozeewhatsis

A/N: Boy. I honestly don't know how to prepare you for this. So...enjoy pals!

Masterlist

The trickster bites into a nougat filled chocolate bar, watching as you all surround him. Dean and Sam on either side of him, you and Castiel in front. The room is murky grey, with flickering fluorescent lights lining the ceiling. As far as you can tell, the warehouse goes on and on farther than you can see. It was only seconds after entering the building that you knew exactly what you were dealing with.

“This ends, now,” Sam growls, gripping the blood-drenched stake in hand. The trickster stares around with an exaggerated gasp, pretending to shiver. Castiel narrows his eyes, gaze trained on the trickster.

“Aw, look! You got my boots shaking!” the trickster cooes, holding a shaking hand up to his mouth. When nobody laughs, he rolls his eyes, taking another generous bite out of his candy bar. “You guys are no fun~”

“How are you still alive?” Dean asks, gaining a shrug in response.

“Dean, something isn't right,” Castiel says, staring around the room. As you turn to ask him what's wrong, the angel is gone.

“Cas?” you whisper, pausing when you notice that the trickster is looking at you.

“Why haven't I seen you around?” he asks, gesturing to the Winchester's. “I'm used to the tall, dark, and brooding ones, but who are you?”

“Unimportant,” you respond, trying to keep a brave face. Though he doesn't seem the serious type, he has an unmistakable air about him, more powerful than you could have ever imagined. “We can't let you keep killing people.”

The trickster stares at the men, ignoring your words. Turning his eyes back to you, he gestures around the room. “Fuck, marry, kill. Dean, Sam, or me?” he asks.

“Let's start with kill,” you grunt, raising your gun to him. The trickster tssks you, resting a hand on his hip.

“Come on, easy question,” he says, a frown going over his face as the Winchester's rush toward him. With a snap of his fingers, the other men are gone, leaving just you.

Shit.

He closes in on you, and you take cautious steps away from him, trying to will yourself to shoot him. “I like you, new girl, I really do.”

“Stay away –” You cut yourself off when he disappears, eyes shifting around the room in panic. It seems smaller now. There aren't any windows, and the door you entered through disappeared. “Sam?” you call, your voice echoing off the walls. “Dean? Casti...el...” your voice trails away as your eyes land on a sparkly pink notebook and a sharpie laying in the middle of the room. Crouching down, you flip it open, your face sinking. The page is covered in hearts and cutesy doodles. But what catches your eye is the big, blocky letters written smack dab in the middle.

FUCK MARRY KILL: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel

You toss the notebook away, shaking your head and staring up at the ceiling. “No, fuck you! Let me out of here!” you hiss. No response. “I won't play!” you scream. Again, nothing. You clench your jaw, the looming realization that you're at his mercy setting in. “God damn it...” Reluctantly, you plop down on the ground, staring at the page once more. “God fucking damn it...” you mumble, ticking off your choices. You flinch at the sound of girlish giggles and squeals filling the room, searching for the source of the noise. The notebook disappears from your hands with a puff of glitter, and the lights above you flicker. Your body feels heavy, like it's sinking into the ground beneath you. Closing your eyes, you allow your body to fall back, expecting to feel hard concrete beneath you. Instead, you feel something plush.

__

Warmth.

Hands grabbing at you greedily.

It takes you a few seconds to catch up with the moment, but when you do, you press a harsh kiss against your lover's lips, hands lacing through his hair as he grinds against you. You both roll around on the bed, biting and sucking at each other's lips, your legs wrapped around his waist. When he pulls out of the kiss, you bat open your eyes, a breath escaping you. 

Sam's face is flushed red, his pouty lips swollen and wet.

“Sammy...” you breathe, tightening your legs around him. He responds with a coy smile, trailing harsh, sloppy kisses down your neck, licking and sucking your skin as he palms at your breasts.

“Take these off,” he whispers, yanking at your shorts. You lift your hips, allowing him to slide them down your thighs. He continues trailing kisses down your body, leaving bites and hickies in his wake. Pulling your panties to the side, Sam nuzzles against your sex, a moan escaping his lips. He drags his tongue along your slit, slurping away your juices as he grips his fingers in your thighs. “Fuck you taste so good.”

You bite your lip, resting your hand on his head and rolling your hips. God, he's gifted. It almost seems like he's enjoying this more than you are. He pulls your clit between his lips, gently suckling. “Fuck,” you moan, voice fluttering. You lace your fingers through his hair, back arching as pleasure courses through you. His tongue pushes deep between your folds, lapping and sucking your tender flesh before plunging inside of you. Sam reaches a hand to your breast, teasing at your nipple with gentle pinches and tugs. You cry out, thighs squeezing around his head as your orgasm takes over. He laps at your sex as you ride your release, keeping you grounded underneath his embrace. Sam raises up on his knees and plunges his fingers deep inside you, eyes never breaking from yours.

“Fuck, I'm glad we're finally doing this,” he says, a breathless chuckle escaping him. You silently nod, grabbing his cock and giving it a gentle squeeze. He lifts your legs over his shoulders as he lines up with your entrance. You moan his name, closing your eyes as he eases into you, his thick cock stretching you more than you could have ever imagined. Sam grips your arms as he begins his rhythmic thrusting, holding you firm in your place. His eyes roll back as he's enveloped in your warmth, his hips slamming into you quicker. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, zips of electricity running up your spine.

“Oh my god, Sam!” you scream.

--

“What?” he asks.

Your eyes snap open, and you let out a puff of air, staring at yourself in the mirror. You reach your hands to touch the silver crown on your head, fingers ghosting along the flowing, white veil. Sam, with a furrowed brow, adjusts his tie in the mirror. 

“Look, I didn't mean anything bad was gonna happen,” Sam says, giving you a reassuring nod.

“...Huh?” you whisper, gaining a chuckle from him.

“You know, we got everything warded off,” he begins, giving your shoulder a rough pat. “And I'm pretty sure everyone here is strapped,” he adds, whirling around to the door as it flies open. “No, you can't see the bride until it's time!” Sam says, chasing off whoever just opened the door.

The bride.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, heart pounding in your chest. Today's the day and it feels like you didn't even know. God, why are you having cold feet right now of all times? He's the love of your life! You stare down at your beautiful, puffy dress, eyes landing on the sparkling ring on your finger. There's no telling where he got it from, but it's beautiful. A knock comes at the door, and you stand to your feet, smoothing your hands down your dress.

“Y-Yeah?” you yell, smiling as Charlie pokes her head into the room.

“We're ready for you – wow, look at her!” she cooes, a cheek to cheek grin on her face. Taking a deep breath, you snatch your bouquet up, allowing her to usher you to the wedding hall. You can hear the organ playing in the distance. Charlie says something to you, but your mind is a million miles away. Your heart is threatening to burst out of your chest, and your legs are beginning to wobble. Oh god. Why is this so scary? You turn the corner, being met with familiar faces standing in the pews, there eyes on you. Most are adorned in jeans and flannels, and just as Sam said, lots of them are carrying guns. You spot a few people sprawling out sigils on the walls, but they stop when you begin your descent down the aisle. Your groom is facing away from you, just as tradition calls for.

“Lookin' like a doll,” Bobby whispers to you as you pass, his hands wrapped tightly around his shotgun. You giggle, smiling when you see Sam waving at you from the line of groomsmen. You pause before your soon to be husband, gently placing your hand on his shoulder. Sucking in a breath, he turns to you, a smile immediately breaking across his face.

“Oh hell yeah,” Dean grunts, gaining whoops and hollers from his groomsmen. You playfully smack him on the arm, grabbing his hand in yours. His green eyes shift wildly, a permanent smile glued to his face. The priest begins, but all you can focus on his Dean. He looks starstruck, like he's never seen someone so beautiful in his life.

“I do,” Dean breathes, tears prickling at his eyes. Seeing this makes your eyes gloss over, and when the priest asks you the same question, you can barely choke out 'I do'.

“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest says, closing his bible. Dean grabs you by the waist, dipping you down and pulling you into a passionate kiss. You smile against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Let's get to that honeymoon suite,” Dean whispers, shooting you a wink. You both run down the aisle hand in hand, waving at the sea of family and friends applauding you.

As you push through the door, the world goes dark. You turn to look at the church, but nothing is there, save for a fence and two brick walls.  

--

The alley is dark and groggy, with trash bags piled up on either side of you. 

Who's hand were you holding? You look down at the angel blade you're gripping, cocking an eyebrow. Of course. It ends here. You swagger deeper into the alley, your face falling into a frown as Castiel crawls away from you on hands and knees. His hand buckles underneath him, causing him to fall flat on the ground. The red exit sign on the wall is the only source of illumination, but you can clearly see the battered and bruised angel look at you. He wears a defiant scowl, an unsuccessful attempt at bravery.

“Times up Castiel,” you say, the venom in your voice catching you off guard. He...deserves this, as far as you can remember. You lace your fingers through his hair, forcing him up as you raise the blade above your head.

–

You stare up at the ceiling, your heart racing.

What. The. Hell.

As you lean up, your eyes train on that god damn sparkly notebook again.

Right. The trickster. It all felt so real, as if each and everything that happened was always like that. You shake away the thoughts, snatching up the notebook and staring around the room.

“Son of a bitch,” you growl, staring down at the new set of names.

FUCK MARRY KILL: John Winchester, Gadreel, Cain

[tamarinfrog]

Heya! just wanted to give you an update on the story!

thesinfulsquidchild submitted:

((I realize that the grammar was…not as good. so, with proof reading, I’ll show you what I got so far. let me know what you think!))

In the year that my father died, the inkopolis extension came. the new shopping centers came with odd fashions to pick. the city took the glory, but gave us The Wolf-fish. My dad left me an apple crate of classic books. he loved horror stories and quoted them in the hospital bed. “they came looking for the Zapfish, and died in tragic places”. on his last day, he sat up suddenly and stared bug-eyed to the train station. with the rusted tracks and abandoned ticket booth. he turned to my mom. “this house is haunted…” he said, and passed from the complications due to his injuries.

This is what my mother told me, and why I never met him. She also told me I was hatched in the morning of this day, and father was off to work at the time. I am probably more tragic than a Shakespeare story, if you ask me. I mean…gotta be real with you. I have some weird secret that I want no one to know of. if they did, God knows what will come of it. Keep in mind, my father was of the Octarian race. Meaning, well…I think you might have a clue on what went on. That is another reason why mother is more sour than a lemon-flavored sour patch squid towards other inklings.  But anyway, lets focus on where I am. At the bus stop that leads to Puffer Springs. all the lights where on, but no one else was here. except for a janitor. “well this is great.” I thought to myself. “I mean, I didn’t expect a party or anything. But, I figured someone would be here.” I stood there quiet for a bit, looking around. I sighed. “Welcome home, Angelo”. I murmured to myself. I grew a small smile as I imagined the shock and joy my mother and step-father would get once they saw me at the doorstep. I looked around the station, and gazed at a mural for the city on the wall.  “wow. when did they put this up?” I commented. “Puffer Springs has never looked so…falsely advertised”. the more I looked around, the more I saw some…questionable things. like this payphone-stand-thing on the wall. Geez, must be such a relief to payphone companies that Puffer Springs barely if ever gets any cell reception. It’d be cool to call my parents from here, but some jackass took the time to rip it out from the wall. who the hell steals a phone anyway? nonetheless, I paced around a bit. behind the reception desk was a T.V up on the wall. on it was playing Guppy and Marco. A show full of dad jokes and very bland humor for my standards. they talked about the economy and other political stuff I have no interest in. then, I looked at the janitor working on the door. I approached him. “Excuse me, but where is Everybody?” I asked. “it’s 10:45. it’s closed.” the Urchin plainly replied. “not a lot of squids get off the last bus to Puffer Springs these days. just you.”. huh. to the point. I decided to egg this on. “so…are you the janitor or something?” I asked again. “looks that way.” he replied again in the same tone. “Well, what do you do exactly?” “I fix this door.” “is that it?” “nope.” he finished as he kept drilling. I was already sick of this small talk. ‘least it was not as bland as Guppy and Marco. “c-can I squeeze past you?” I requested. “nope. Just broke the damn thing.” the janitor replied. “when do you think it might be done?”. “right after you bring me a Fiascola from the machine.” I was little appalled on this proposed deal. “Am I paying for this?” I questioned. “I always rig it when I’m on my night-shift” the urchin stated. I was now in on this. “nice. free as in…free” “free as in no one else is here to say otherwise” the urchin mused. I walked over to the soda machine, looking at the flavors. I assumed he wanted the original, so I pressed the red button. as I heard the jingle from the machine and the clunk of the can, I noticed they had lime fiasco option on it. Jesus, what a waste. back on track, I grabbed the can and went back to the janitor. “here you go, one free-ass-cola” I offered as the janitor took it fro my hand. he cracked the top, took a swig from it and plainly stated “Yummers”. the Janitor was now the one asking the Questions. “so, what’s a fella like you doing here?” took me a moment, but I answered “I live here. well, lived here.” “huh. that’s strange.” the Urchin replied. “when do you think the door is done?” I asked once more. “now.” he said. “goodbye.”. the janitor left the station with the fixed door closing behind him. the lights turned off, and I stood in awkward silence from that whole situation. “uh, bye.” I said sheepishly. this has been the most anticlimactic situation I’ve ever been in. I took a deep breath to calm myself, then walked out of the bus stop.  When I stepped into the navy blue night, I saw no one else. not even the janitor. “well, I’m outside of town” I thought. “mom and dad are nowhere to be found…so dark and cold out here. Guess I’m walking, Alone.” my mind was racing with thoughts. y'know, the bus station might be the newest thing in Puffer Springs. I guess the got state funding or something like that. I suppose it makes a decent first or last impression if it was not the abandoned gear factory in the distance. good gravy, think they’ll get rid of it when hell freezes over. As I start to make my way to my house, I hear the horn of the train go off in the distance. now that I think of it, I missed that sound quite a bit. I remember hearing it in bed, at my old house back in OctoVally. especially in the winter time, when all the leaves are down. I soon got to the entrance to the woods. guess I’m going to hike through them. afterall, through the woods is home, my bed, and my…negligent parents. so, off the woods I go. there is some dank nature here, and garbage. and up front, was a few logs. I do recall this place being called “Saw-Mill park.” I climb up the pile of logs, and balance my way to the edge of one of them. being the playful Inkling I am, I jumped on it like a diving board only for the log to break from it’s point, causing me to fall and hit the ground on the other side of the river. the logs avalanched a bit before returning to stillness. “Oh my god.” I thought. “that was dangerous. man…I could’ve died. that was amazing!”. I chuckled as I sat up. “not gonna die in a place like this.” I said to myself as I dusted off my hoodie. I hiked up the pile of logs, this time reaching another part of the woods. I climbed up and walked again. Soon I reached to the abandoned playground surrounded by a chain-link fence. everything looked grim and rusty. there was a ship-like structure with a tower on it, and a few logs. I haven’t been here in like, 9 or 10 years. I could tell that no one else has, either. now it’s just a place weird animals eat and have babies in. I climb up to the ship, and played with the steering wheel. “Ahoy!” I giggled to myself. I think at the time they we’re going for some weird boat-castle. I donno, something like that. there was no ladder,  no way to get to the other side of the fence. and I can’t just jump over it. Then, I had an idea. it was bad, but it was the best I got. a Good Bad idea, if you will. I hopped on the logs, onto a tree branch, sort of climbing my way to the top. man, it’s been almost two years seance I’ve been to Puffer Springs. things were getting jumbled, so I made a little doodle in my journal. getting back to my “plan”, I saw a powerline, so I jumped and balanced on the cable, making my way above the fence. I tried to land on my feet when I lept off the wire, instead I landed on my chest with a tump and a loud “oof!” escaping my mouth.. hey, coulda been worse.  that’s when I saw a cinnamon red Octoling in a police outfit. rather chubby, and clearly a woman. “Hello, Angelo. it’s been a while.” that’s when I know it was my father’s sister. as I call her, Aunt Mall Cop. we never really hung out much, but it was enough that I could recognize her. “H-hey! what are you doing out here? nothing better to do?” I stuttered. “well, I was just making my rounds until I saw you in the very off limits playground.” she stated, looking unimpressed. “so?” I said back, glaring at her. Auntie sighed. “Get in the car Angelo.” she grunted in annoyance.  “no.” I snapped. “you wanna spend your first night in jail?” she remarked. “…no.” was my response. so, I got in the car, and she drove me to the neighborhood. a litte insight on me and my Aunt, she and I have it…not-so-good. I’ve had a good history of being quite the delinquent back in the day, and she was the one to catch me most of the time. but hey, at least she didn’t make me spend any time in the slammer. or worse. Auntie dropped me off at the house. yup, this is the right address. this is the house that mother moved in when she got with my step-dad. I twisted the knob, surprisingly it was unlocked. I stepped inside to the familiar living room with the sent of pine wood. of course, there was my dad, Ryan. he short marigold tentahair, was very pale, and had a lot of freckles on his face. I walked closer to him, as he was ominous to my persistence. “Hey, remember me?” I quickly announced, breaking the silence with an axe. in response my dad jumped in shock with an “AAAAGHHH! Angelo! ya gave me a heart attack!” in his New-Jersey accent. “good!” I chuckled. “what are you doin-” he cut himself off, thinking to himself.  “ooooooohhh…” he said as it came together. “Angelo, buddy. I though you was commin’ home next day.” he remarked. “well, you thought wrong!” I replied. we stared at each other for a bit. “s-so uh…” he started off awkwardly, “how did yis end up here, ey?” I answered with “I hiked through the woods untill I got caught by…ugh, Aunt Mall Cop. she drove me here…” I crossed my arms. “oh, so Molly drove you here, ey? did you say hi to her?” I just shook my head in response. “I’ll be heading to bed.” I stated. “a'right kiddo. good to hear that voice a'yis.” Ryan chuckled.

((I hope you like it!))

Tammy’s comments: Sorry for late reply. It’s always hard to find time for long fan fics. *cough* Anyway! This seems like an interesting story so far.