#samxyou

[novafics]

l Spinning Out l

Sam Winchester x Reader

Warnings: sickfic, Sick reader, Worried Sam.

Summary: You were undoubtedly sick but the hunt must go on, right?

Word Count: 750

Masterlist

---

Currently you were deep into a werewolf hunt with Sam and Dean, trying to hide how awful you felt. You never got sick, so for you to call out of a hunt would just not be acceptable in your eyes. You were sure that if you kept going and fighting through you would be perfectly fine by the end of it and no one would be the wiser. How wrong you were.

Sam had managed to track down the rogue werewolf you guys were hunting and so all three of you were in the Impala on route to the destination. Hiding how you were feeling on the inside was a piece of cake for you, however hiding how you looked was not so easy. You were currently taking shallow breaths sitting in the back of the car with your head resting on the window relishing in its cooling sensation on your feverish forehead. 

“Hey baby are you doing ok? You're a little quite” you heard Sam say from the front seat. “Yeah you're normally talking my ear off on all the cool lore facts you know, why so quiet?” Ok so Sam asking if you were ok was one thing, as your boyfriend it was his literal job to worry about you, However if Dean noticed that you were acting off it was another thing, you were starting to let your mask fall with how sick you were really feeling, yet you were determined to keep your composure and not let anything slip. “Yeah I'm fine, just a little warm is all” you replied, Sam and Dean seemed to accept this answer as they turned their eyes back to the road, though you could tell that Sam wasn't all that convinced as you didn't fail to spot his worried glances in the mirror.

It didn't take much longer to reach your destination and soon you were all hopping out of the car ready to kill this werewolf. As you exited the Impala you were quick to realise just how weak you were, your legs could only just hold your full weight and your vision was starting to falter and make you off balance, yet you were determined to get this hunt finished.

You all made your way deep into the woods and the werewolves cabin soon came into view. ‘Not much longer now’ you told yourself, feeling worse by the minute. As you got closer to the cabin it seemed that you all had spooked the werewolf and he took off running deeper into the woods, You, Dean and Sam not far behind running after him.

By this point however you had gotten worse and worse and not even 5 minutes into sprinting after the guy had you falling over heaving for breath lying on the ground while your vision had you spinning out.

“Oh shit Baby? Baby? Please answer me, are you ok?” you heard Sam yell, hovering above you, holding your face in his hands. “I knew you weren't ok, You have such a high fever why didn't you tell us?” he asked. At this point Dean had managed to catch up to the werewolf and successfully kill him so you guys didn't have to worry about him taking you all out while you were still lying there trying to stay conscious. 

“Damn [Y/N] you look like shit” Dean’s assessment was correct and so Sam decided enough was enough and hoisted you up into his arms settling you into the car with your head in his lap while he held you.

At this point while you looked up from his lap gazing at the worried expression on his face, you felt guilt course through you knowing that if you just told them he wouldn't be looking so sad. “I'm sorry, I didn't want to mess up the hunt” you apologise while tears rolled down your face, both from the extreme guilt you had for making him worry and how shitty you were feeling.

“ I don't ever want to hear you apologise for being sick, you hear me? I know how much you didn't want to let us down sweetheart” at knowing that he wasn't mad or upset anymore the tears slowly stopped and the remaining tears on your cheek were quickly wiped away by Sam with a kiss on your forehead making you smile.

“And hey since you're sick you can have a piece of Dean’s pie” you heard him whisper in your ear making you laugh.

[waif-of-the-night]

Sex And Violence

Part 2

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Rewrite Masterlist

Masterlist

Characters: Reader, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel.

Warning: canon violence, mentions of death

A/n: Requests are open again and I have a lot of pre-written chapters so expect frequent posting. Happy Reading1 :)

“So according to what Bobby and you guys tell me, it’s definitely a siren.” You took your seat near the table as Dean fidgeted with his phone with a book lying in front of him. They were back from investigating the strip club but soon Sam had to leave because there was another probable victim in town. “Lenny Bristol was definitely another siren vic.” Sam’s voice ringed through the room as he entered. You turned in your seat, asking if he got in to see him. He answered in a yes. “Said he brought a stripper home named Belle. Couple hours later he offed his mother. Belle, of course, went M.I.A.” “Wait, he killed his mom?” you raised a confused eyebrow. “The woman he was closest to.” Sam shrugged while Dean scoffed in disbelief. Sam suggested calling Bobby; see if he had any leads on how to find the siren. You agreed and called him, “Hey Bobby.” You greeted. “Hey kid, find anything?” he answered. “Not really, what about you?” Dean asked as you put the phone on speaker. “Well, there’s this poem in a dusty lore book. I think it’s about sirens.” “You think?” Sam repeated. Bobby sighed, “Can’t understand what damn language this is in.” “Why don’t you send it to us, maybe we can figure it out.” Dean suggested to which Bobby instantly agreed and you received the pictures as soon as you hung up. You placed your phone on the table for both of them to see. “That isn’t Greek or Latin.” Sam commented while Dean only clicked his tongue, saying how it looked like Latin but wasn’t exactly it. “It’s Archaic Latin.” You blurted out. They both turned to you dramatically. “You know Archaic Latin?” Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Yeah, I got bored of classic Latin.” You answered. Dean muttered something about you being a nerd in his mouth while Sam only chuckled. “So, what does it say, our friendly neighborhood nerd.” Dean chortled to which you rolled your eyes then focused them on the poem. “Hold on, I’m gonna put Bobby on speaker.” The younger Winchester added. “Alright,” you continued once Bobby was there, “It says you need a ‘bronze dagger covered in the blood of a sailor under the spell of the song.’” “What the hell does that mean?” Dean grumbled. “You got me.” You answered. “We’re dealing with 3,000 years of the telephone game here.”Bobby sighed. “Best guess?” “Well, the siren’s spell ain’t got nothing to do with any song. It’s most likely some kind of toxin or venom. Something she gets in the vic’s blood.” “That makes them go all Manchurian candidate.” Sam commented. “So, what do you think? She infects them during sex?” you asked Bobby as he replied in a maybe, making Dean nod in amusement.”Supernatural std.” He scoffed. “Well, however it happens, once it’s done. The sirens got to watch her back. If she gets a dose of her own medicine...” “It kills her.” You completed Bobby’s thought. “So we just gotta find a way to juice one of the oj’s in jail.” Dean concluded and soon they were both at the hospital to get the blood samples of the victims and jail. As for you, the pain was decreasing but was still prominent so they urged you to take some more rest so that you could heal properly. At the hospital, the brothers had to face a real FBI detective also investigating the same case as them and they had to make him talk to their D.A. to make him believe that they were real detectives, which they weren’t. You spent some time catching up on some lore and fixing something up to eat before your phone rung, flashing an unknown number. “Uh, yeah, assistant director Kaiser?” a man’s voice came from the other side and you knew exactly what this was about and went with the boys’ FBI ruse. “Yes?” you answered with authority in your tone. The man seemed a little taken aback on hearing your voice. “You’re uh- you’re a woman?” “And? You have a problem with that mister?” you retorted to his sexist comment. “No. Uh-no absolutely not, ma’am. I’m agent Nick Monroe. I’m calling about two of your men- Stiles and Murdock? It seems they’ve been put on my case by mistake.” He answered. “Are you questioning my authority?” “No, no, no, ma’am. I’m not questioning-”he started jabbering but you cut him off. “You could’ve fooled me. Last time I checked, D.C. has jurisdiction. Or am I wrong?” The man could only murmur out a faint no before you talked again, “Well, next time you want to waste my time asking stupid questions; don’t.” With that you hung up on him, leaving an almost scared expression on the detective’s face as he turned to face the boys. After a couple of minutes of the conversation, you received a text from Dean. The guy looked practically scared of you. What did you say to him? You smiled at his text and replied, Nothing he couldn’t handle. A faint chuckle left Dean’s mouth at your text before he typed out another, asking how your ankle was, to which you told him that it was fine now and that you could come for help. He said that it was better if you stayed back as he had to distract Nick, the real detective from what they were doing by going with him to the strip club for a stake out and Sam was gonna take care of finding the blood. He promised he’ll keep you updated if anything happens lastly before he put his phone away and went with the detective to the strip club. Another half an hour or so went by with Dean at the strip club with Nick and Sam at the hospital before you got a call from Dean, but this time he sounded worried. “(Y/N), where are you?” he asked frantically. “I’m at the motel. Why, what happened? Is everything okay?” “The flower- she-she had them-” his voice was a mix of frustration and worry. “What flowers? Who had them Dean? You need to calm down and talk to me.” You heard a frantic sigh on the other end before he spoke, calmer than before. “The doctor, Cara, she’s the siren. All crime scenes had hyacinths and I saw a bunch of them in her office.” “Wait, Sam was with her, wasn’t he?” “Yes, but he isn’t answering my call. I’m looking for her now.” He grumbled. “Okay, I’ll go look for Sam till you find her-” “No, you stay there and lock your room and whatever happens, don’t let Sam in. You're the woman he is closest to, (y/n).” “What?” “(Y/N), for all we know, he could be infected and if he is, he could hurt you.” You tried talking your way into helping but Dean straight up refused anything that included you leaving the room and hung up. A frustrated sigh left your mouth as Dean had left you nothing to do except wait in the room you had been in all day. You wanted to help and the first thing you thought of was to call Sam but he didn’t answer. Dean’s concern was valid but people trying to kill you was always on the table in your life so you couldn’t just sit there and wait for Sam to show up and see if he wants to kill you or not. You decided that you won’t just sit around, doing nothing and stepped out to look for Sam, thinking of dealing with Dean later.

Forever tags: @roonyxx @webcraft4eveh @jessikared97 @itslizabitch8021

[imagining-supernatural]

Triple-A: Eye of the Storm

Part 2 of Triple-A

Summary: When you and Sam started dating, you never though that the shared history of both dating the same man at different times would become something you would have to actively deal with. After all, Gabriel died before either of you ever met. But 2018 seems to be a year full of surprises…

Word Count: 2344

A/N: I’ve had a super busy few weeks, and the next semester (my very last semester EVER and then I have my Master’s!) starts tomorrow, so I have no idea when I’m going to be able to write. I hope I’ll be able to get something out every week or two, but don’t expect too much

Tracking down your ex-boyfriend who happened to be an archangel everyone thought was dead and also had a romantic history with your current boyfriend and still refused to help save the world… Just a normal weekend in your life, right?

Well, that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of anyway.

You and Sam were fine. Things shifted in your relationship a little, but you were still solid. It didn’t make your trip to find Gabriel any easier, though.

What was usually a normal run to a nearby fast-food joint on a hunt turned into one of the most nerve-wracking events of your life. Every step you took outside of the hotel room sent your brain on the fritz. You could run into him anywhere. And without Sam by your side, you had no idea how you would react. Would you punch him? Freeze? Start crying?

He’d faked his death and let you believe it! What kind of a monster did that?

So the entire half hour you spent outside the hotel room definitely had you looking over your shoulder and around every corner.

But you made it back to the hotel without any arch-angel sightings. Throwing the door open, you burst inside. “I’ve got everything and they even had pie for you D—”

Gabriel.

He was sitting on the couch.

In the hotel room.

In the flesh.

Not dead.

“Y/N. Looking lovely as ever.”

“Gabriel. You’re looking… not dead.”

“You always knew how to make a guy feel special,” he said, tossing a wink your way. As he tried to push himself up, he winced in pain.

Without thinking, you dropped the bags of food on the table and made your way across the room, crouching in front of him, next to where Sam was on the chair. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he tried to wave you off.

But you were having none of that. A glance at Sam was all it took for him to explain everything that happened while you were gone.

“Look, I ‘preciate your concern. But, seeing as how you don’t have any of my grace, and I’m getting the strangest feeling that there’s I’m not entirely welcome here anymore, I must bid you a fond ad—Oooo.” Any attempt he had to leave shriveled up when he couldn’t even stand up. “Yeah, nope. Maybe after, uh, a little siesta.”

And you watched as he flopped back onto the couch and nearly immediately fell asleep.

With wide eyes, you looked from the snoring angel to Sam. “He was really going to just leave again? Just like that?”

Dean awkwardly cleared his throat and jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the kitchenette. “I’m gonna, uh, go eat. Leave you two to, uh, whatever.”

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother before sliding off the chair to sit on the floor next to you. Without words, he pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”

And it just hit you how Sam already had to watch Gabriel disappear. Back in the bunker after the fight, he watched Gabriel literally vanish before his eyes. You wrapped your arms around him, hoping to pass along whatever comfort you possibly could.

Words weren’t your strong-suit even at the best of times. But times like this? Well, sometimes there was only one thing to say and that thing was: “Fuck.”

“You can say that again,” Sam whispered.

“Fuck,” you repeated, voice muffled by Sam’s chest. Slowly, you eased your face away and reached up to lay your hand along his cheek. “What the fuck has he done to us, Sam? It’s been almost a decade and he just shows up and we’re… I don’t even know.”

“We’re not going to let him leave until we talk to him,” Sam decided then and there. “We both need closure. And we’re going to get it whether he likes it or not.”

Just the idea of a conversation with the ex you thought was dead made your anxiety roll in in waves. But you pushed it aside for the time being and pecked Sam on the nose with a playful grin. “I like it when you get all bossy.”

“Mmm.” The sound came from the couch and you both looked over in time to see Gabriel groan and roll over until he was looking at the two of you. “So do I. Can’t say I expected the two of you to get down and dirty. I kinda like it though.”

“Aaand that’s my cue to leave,” Dean broke in from across the room, the paper bag crinkling as he picked it up. “Shoot me a text when things aren’t so… awkward.”

“Thought you needed a siesta,” you mumbled, pulling away from Sam just enough to face Gabriel, but still stay under the warmth of Sam’s arm.

“With you two yammering away right next to me? I’d have to be dead to sleep through that.”

“Apparently we can’t tell the difference between you being dead and alive, though. You can’t blame us, Gabriel.”

“Gabriel? What happened to Gabe, sweetcheeks?”

Nearly a decade of mourning and loss bubbled up and flipped the coin from love to anger. “Gabe died back in that hotel, didn’t you get the message? Sam and I sure did.”

He groaned over-dramatically and sat up. All of your cells urged you to help him sit up, cringing at his pain. But you withheld. After all of the pain he’d put you through the last decade, he could suffer a little bit now. “You know that—”

“Don’t give us bullshit excuses. We don’t know anything about you, apparently. I would’ve thought you would have at least given me a—a—a sign or something. A badly written poem in the mail. A few rubber ducks showing up in my truck or under my pillow. Something.”

“And now that you’re back, you just keep leaving,” Sam said softly, squeezing your shoulder.

Those brown eyes you fell in love with so long ago jumped between you and Sam and a rare blanket of sobriety fell over them. “Didn’t think you’d want me around to ruin whatever you two have going on here. Seems like you’re doing just fine without good ol’ Gabe.”

“Nothing you could do or say could ruin what Y/N and I have.” Sam’s voice left absolutely no room for misunderstanding.

With soft eyes, you looked up at Sam. “Yeah. We’re solid. But that doesn’t mean we’re not hurt. We both loved you. At different times, sure. Before either of us met, yeah. But we both loved you. And you left us both. That’s not something that just being together can fix.”

“That’s something only you can fix,” Sam finished for you.

The angel, for the first time since you’d met him, seemed at a loss for words. That just meant that you had to spur him into action. Trick him into speaking. Play a trick on the trickster, as it was.

“Unless,” you started hesitantly, “You never loved either of us. In which case, Sam and I can deal with that and you can lea—”

“Sugar-lips, that’s crazy. Why would you even think that I never loved you?”

“Never thought that. Just needed you to start talking. So, Gabriel. Start talking.” And once again, he clammed up. He never was good at the emotional shit. So you sat forward, slipping into your interrogation mindset. “Fine. First question: If Asmodeus hadn’t ever taken you prisoner, would you have ever come back? Or would I die thinking you were dead?”

“I kept tabs on both of you,” he finally said. “Before Asmodeus. Wanted to make sure both of you nuggets of joy were safe and happy.”

“Anyone else?” Sam asked, earning a questioning look from Gabe. “Is there anyone else you kept tabs on? Anyone else who deserves to know that you’re alive?”

“Oh. No. You two… Well, you both know how special you both are.”

This was too much right now. Seeing Gabe so unapologetic about his faked death but hearing him say how special you were… it was tearing you in two. Some time and space might help. So you squeezed Sam’s hand before sliding out from under his arm and stood up. “Not special enough for you to stick around though, I guess.”

Sam stood as well and you gave him a tight smile. “I’m gonna get some air. Call if you need me.”

“Call if you need me,” he replied.

“I will.”

You’d just turned around when Gabe called your name, grunting as he stood up. “Y/N, wait—”

The second his hand reached out for yours and brushed your skin, you couldn’t hold back. Just one more kiss. That was all this was. Sam would understand.

Unable to stop yourself, you turned and pressed your lips to Gabe’s. His words stopped cold in his throat. In the few seconds it took for him to react, you were already pulling back. He chased your lips until you pushed at his chest. Even then, it took a moment for him to open his eyes. When he finally did, you chose your words carefully.

“I don’t know if you’ll still be here when I get back. If you’re not, I’ll deal with it. If you stay… Just know that I don’t expect anything from you anymore. But I do expect more from myself this time around.”

“Y/N, I—”

“Gabriel,” Sam cut in in a low voice. The angel heard the warning note and backed off. Sam slipped his hand into yours and tugged your attention to him. He jerked his head toward the door. “C’mon, I’ll walk you out.”

Without another glance at Gabriel, you let Sam lead you out into the hallway. “Sam, I’m sorry I kissed hi—”

“Don’t apologize, Y/N. I’ve been wanting to either kiss him or punch him since he showed up tonight.”

What did you ever do to land such a wonderful, understanding boyfriend like Sam? “Well, if either one happens while I’m gone, let me know. I’d love a good story tonight.”

He raised an eyebrow, letting a tone of amusement crawl into the conversation. “The story of how I kissed someone else while you were gone?”

“The story of if the kiss helps you figure shit out or not. It didn’t help me. I’m just—”

“Confused?”

You nodded. “But just about Gabe. Not you. Never about you.”

Adoration filled your heart at the half-grin that fell onto Sam’s face and he pulled you closer. “Mmm, I’m not sure I believe you. I think I’d better kiss you to see if that helps me figure shit out.”

“Happy to help.”

*****

It was amazing what alcohol could do to a person. Just a few hours ago, you’d been confused and angry and happy all at once, but a few hours in a bar with Dean and suddenly you were feeling great. Whatever happened back at the hotel room, you could handle.

Because you were drunk.

And you could handle anything when you were drunk.

“I think we overdid it,” Dean whispered as he unlocked the hotel room door.

“Nope! This was just what I needed. And tomorrow, I can babysit Triple-A and you can take Sammy out to get drunk. After spending a few hours with Gabe, I’m sure he needs it.”

Before opening the door, Dean leaned against it and looked at you with a half-smile on his face. “I think I was the one babysitting someone tonight.”

“That last shot was your fault, mister.”

For every two shots you took, Dean only took one, so he was much less drunk than you were. In fact, you might say he was barely tipsy. Damn him and his alcoholism raising his tolerance.

He just shook his head with a chuckle. “Whatever. Sam’s probably asleep so…”

“Shhhh,” you said, holding a finger to your lips, preparing to reenter the room without waking anyone. Dean opened the door and ushered you in.

In the low light streaming in from the window, you noticed a lump on the couch. To Dean, you whispered, “Looks like triple-A stuck around.”

“Triple-A?” Sam’s voice came from the other side of the room. The room spun a little as you looked over to see him sitting on the bed with the light from his laptop illuminating his face.

“Asshole Arch-Angel,” Dean answered, steering you over to Sam with his arm around your waist. “She’s a little too drunk to keep saying that, so… Triple-A.”

“It’s Dean’s fault I’m drunk,” you slurred, falling onto the bed next to Sam and immediately pressing your face against a pillow while pressing yourself against him as much as possible.

He just grinned and patted the top of your head. “I’m sure it is. Hey, Dean? How much?”

“I…” there was silence while Dean presumably thought back over the night. “Six? Six shots?”

“And a fucking hurricane.”

“Right,” Dean said brightly, remembering the first drink you had. “Because your life was in such disarray it was like you were in a hurricane.”

“But Sam’s the eye of the storm,” you mumbled, body starting to shut down now that you were on a bed.

“I forgot how cheesy and poetic she gets when she’s drunk,” Dean said, shuffling around the room. Your eyes were shut which meant that the world was slowly fading out and your brain only caught and processed snippets of the rest of the conversation.

“—He’ll stick around for—”

“Are you sure that’s the best—”

“—called us a bunch of morons, so…”

“Don’t know how you two—”

“—love each other so it makes it simple.”

“Sam?” You mumbled just before you lost consciousness.

“Mm-hmm?”

“Love you.” It took all of your energy to shift enough to press a kiss to his jean-clad thigh. “So ducking much.”

“So ducking much, huh?”

“Damn autocorrect,” you replied, giggling at your joke.

“For fuck’s sake,” Dean muttered, seconds before you were dragged into dream-land.

Add Yourself To My Taglist Here!

Mobile Masterlist

Forever Tag: 

@fairytalesexistxx  @starswirlblitz @jensen-jarpad @everyday-supernatural-af @riversong-sam @beacon-hills-chance-harbor @itseverythingilike @missthang2734 @fly-f0rever @mellowlandrunaway @hugwinchester @ivvitm1109 @i-live-for-laughter-and-love @iamnotsaneatall @autopistaaningunaparte @angelicshinigami @youtubehelpsmesurvive @nanie5 @babydanixox @sayukoi @padackles2010 @sgarrett49 @li-ssu @trexrambling @mogaruke @inlovewithbja @damn-sassalecki @castiel-loves-them-bees @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @jadenlee1 @oldsoul1967 @cristinabl @mariahoedt @samsgirly66 @sandlee44 @impractical-impala @goldenolaf25 @smoothdogsgirl @ocholove @valisiofdauntless @itsbubbaog @emoryhemsworth @palindrome696 @captainradicalpassion @carryonmyswansong @clairese1980 @cdg174 @amotleyworld @dixonwinchesterlover @percussiongirl2017 @kealohilani-tepise @x-waywardaf-x @babynovak05

Sammy Tags: 

@daughterleftbehind @lonelymel @deanssweetheart23 @richiesunlight @lavieenlex @werenot-thelosechesters @fandomo @jbwkzzzzz-jfl @waywardasfudge @starry-chaos @hunterswearingplaid @just-a-supernatural-sister @meganthegeek 

[ellieswond3rland]

The Greatest Present Of All.

Pairing: Samxreader

Characters: Sam, you, Dean, Cas, Charlie, Jack, Mary

Warnings: None! Just a lot of fluff!

Summary: You never enjoyed your birthday, but this year you had a family and it was the best present you could ask for.

A/N: Hey guys! So this is my first fanfic! Please leave a like or a comment on how I did! Would really appreciate it! Constructive criticism is always welcome too 😊

Birthdays were never important to you, it was never anything different from a normal day. For 5 years you were on the road, hunting alone. No one wants to spend their birthday alone so you just pretended, you actually got pretty good at it by the end.

But this year is different because this year you have a family. One of the most, kind, loyal and messed up families in the world but you wouldn't trade that for anything.

You turn over in bed to see Sam's beaming face smiling down at you. You don't know how you got to be this lucky but when you wake up to him every day, you feel like anything is possible.

"Happy Birthday babe" he leant down and placed a long, soft kiss on your forehead.

"Thank you Sammy" you smiled up at him.

"I know Birthdays aren't really your thing but today is going to be perfect. You deserve to have this day and I want to make it so special for you".

"Just waking up to you and feeling safe in your arms is already the best birthday I've ever had".

You stretched your head up and gave Sam a passionate kiss. One arm wrapped around you holding you tight while the other cradled the back of your head. If only you could stay like this with him forever.

"WHERE'S THE BIRTHDAY GIRL"

You rolled your eyes "Dean really knows how to be subtle doesn't he" you both laughed for what felt like eternity.

The door burst open and everyone came charging in. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO Y/N! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU".

I wish I could freeze time and play that back over and over again. I can't remember the last time I felt this happy I looked around the room at all my family. Jack, Dean, Charlie, Cas and Mary and I couldn't think of better people to be with. I just hoped this lasted for a while.

Dean could see how emotional this all was for me. He could always see right through me and often knew more about how I was feeling than I did. He pulled me out of my little freeze frame with "so when's it time for pie?!"

I laughed and shook my head "Dean I'm sure it's cake you have when it's someone Birthday".

"Not in this bunker it's not"

Everyone was laughing at Dean and his crazy love for pie, soon the day just whizzed passed. There was so much laughter, pie, movies, gifts, dancing and drinking, but that was mainly Dean with Cas chasing after him trying to take the bottle of whiskey out of his hands.

The day was soon over and you and Sam were settling down in the bed you shared. You head resting on his chest, his heartbeat completely relaxing you. He ran his fingers through your hair. "I hope you had a good day today y/n. You truly deserved it, you are surrounded by people you love you. They always will".

You looked up at your perfect boyfriend and smiled sweetly at him. "Today has honestly been the best day of my crazy, incredible life so far. Thank you for everything Sammy. I don't know what I'd do without this family."

"This family will always be here for you".

You reached up and kissed Sam goodnight.

"I love you so much Sam Winchester".

"I love you so much too y/f/n y/l/n".

[jiminisjamin]

Things That Make Forts In The Night (Sam x Reader)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader          

Requested: Yes. (M: “Dude. It’s 3 in the morning.”) 

Summary: Y/n hears crashing noises in the night.

Warnings: Mild Language.

Rating: Fluff.

Word Count: 568 (it’s short, I know.)

A/n: I am extremely sorry, this…I don’t know what it is. I just- uhffhf. It’s probably low-key cringey? I probably could’ve done a lot better with it but this is where my brain took the prompt? Ppdpffpt.

Title: Things That Make Forts In The Night

       Y/n is awoken by the sound of several large crashes, and a loud, angry: “Whopsidaises!” She grumbles to herself as she slides out of bed and shuffles to her door. “Ah, ah shit!” Y/n swings her door open, mumbling some more as she walks slowly out into the library of the bunker, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

    “Who the hell is making all this no-” She drops her hand from her face and squints slightly, looking forward to see Sam in a moose-in-the-headlights position, his eyes open wide.

    “Oh, thank God, it’s just you.” He murmurs, going back to work on the pillow fort he was creating.

    “S-sam, what the hell are you doing?” She mutters, watching as he finishes off the whiskey bottle beside him.

    “I’m making a fort.” He declares, whipping around to face her- and almost knocking down his fort in the process. She nods slowly and moves forward, opening her mouth to speak. Sam holds his hand out. “Ah-ah-ah, a fort. Y/n/n, a fort.” She chuckles and shakes her head slightly.

    “I can see that,” she raises her eyebrows. “And why would you be making a fort?” Sam grins at her, moving forward quickly to grab her arm.

    “Come look, come on, it’s so peaceful, y/n/n, so damn peaceful.” He begins to pull her towards the opening, and she shakes her head.

    “Sam…why are you making a fort?” Sam rolls his eyes slightly.

    “I’ve been researching for the past hour and got bored.”

    “So, you had some whiskey and built a fort?” Y/n confirms, cocking one of her eyebrows at him. He nods, smiling brightly and tugging on her arm again.

    “Come on, y/n/n. It’s nice, has a lot of room, check it out? Please?” Y/n grins and rolls her eyes, allowing Sam to pull her into the fort.

    “You should be sleeping…not, researching or building forts.” Sam pouts slightly, looking over at her.

    “You don’t like it?” He slurs, leaning on her shoulder. “I thought you’d like it…it’s cozy, and warm…” She laughs, and pats his head.

   “It’s great, Sam. I’m just worried about you, that’s all. Take care of yourself a little more…please?” Sam frowns slightly, meeting y/n’s gaze.

    “You…care about me?” He whispers.

    “W-well, yeah. I do. A lot, actually and I would appreciate it if-” Sam leaps to his feet, successfully collapsing the fort and crawls out of the debris, running quickly and crashing into multiple items as the fort crumbles around y/n.

    “Dean! Dean!” Y/n can hear the muffled pounding of footsteps, and the click of a gun.

    “What? What the hell’s the matter, Sam?”

    “Y/n! She…she cares about me Dean. Y/n cares. About. Me. She cares- for me.” Dean instantly recognizes the slur to Sam’s voice and grunts.

    “Where is she right now?” Sam’s gaze slowly drags the the massive pile of pillows and sheets, and he winces. “Oopsidaises.” He mumbles, a light laugh falling past his lips as Dean moves forward and drags her out from underneath the fort.

    “Dude. It’s 3 in the morning,” he grumbles, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “Keep your boyfriend under control, mkay?” As Dean saunters away, Y/n shouts at him:

    “Boyfriend?”

    Sam smiles, and turns to y/n, lifting her into a tight hug. “Only if you’ll be my girlfriend.”

   “What?” Y/n asks.

    “What?” Sam echoes and crashes onto the couch, taking y/n down with him. “Oopsiedaises,” he murmurs just before passing out.

________________

Tags: Feel Free to ask to be added or removed at any time.

SPN: @thatshellfiredean , @elma-shay (also happens to be the one who requested this one)

Liked it? Leave feedback! It helps me see what y’all like, what you want more of, and helps me improve my writing.

Wanna Request from a prompt?

Prompt List

Request a fic

[pertenebris-adastra]

Thanks Are Due

“Sam!” You squealed as you tried to run from his grasp in the field behind the bunker. Sam grinned as he picked you up again before sinking to the grown, pinning you under him.

           “Yes, honey?” He grinned, leaning down and kissing your nose. You giggle and brought your hand to his cheek, your thumb brushing his bottom lip as you smiled up at him. Today had been perfect. Sam had told you since Dean went on a solo hunt, it was just you and him and he was turning the entire day into one big date. It started off with him making you an amazing breakfast followed by a very enthusiastic thank you.

           Now the two of you were supposed to be taking a walk, Sam, however, had a different idea. He had snuck up behind you as you had gone over to pick some wildflowers and scooped you up, running to the pond and jumping in with you. You had been trying to get away when he pinned you to the ground again.

           “You are a giant man-child.” You giggled, leaning up and kissing him sweetly. “But I love you.”

           Sam hummed and rested his forehead against yours, his water-soaked hair falling around your face. “I love you too.” His lips pressed kisses along your jaw as a smile graced his cheeks. “What do you say we go back and take a shower and have a movie day?”

           Nodding your head, you wrapped your legs around his waist. “I say that’s a fantastic idea.” Sam chuckled and slowly sat up, taking you with him as you clung to him like a koala in a tree.

“You know what sounds like a better idea though?” You whispered huskily into his ear. “I think it's your turn to thank me, Sammy…”

Sam looked down at you, his eyes darker and his eyebrow raised. “Oh yeah, princess?” He questioned, his long fingers squeezing at your hips. “And why is that?”

You bit your lip, trying to hide you laugh as you showed him the wildflowers you had picked which were now drenched and ruined. “I got you flowers.” You giggle, smiling brightly.

Honeybees🐝: @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @our-jensen-ackles-love @mymysosa @lilousmustaches @adoptdontshoppets @pie-with-hunters @hiraethclaire @bobbiebabewinchester @tatertot1097 @familybusinesswritingbro @mlovesstories @blue-moon-writing @caswinchester2000 @dreamchester67 @tumbler-tidbits

[jiminisjamin]

Who’s in The Kitchen With Sammy? (Sam x Reader)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Requested: No.

Summary: Y/n is cooking Thanksgiving dinner, and Sam does his best to “help.”

Warnings: Mild language, fluff.

Rating: Fluff.

Notes: Y/n/n= your nickname. It’s short, I’m still tryin to figure out how to write for Sam.

Word Count: 836

Title: Who’s in The Kitchen With Sammy?

      Y/n hums to herself as she moves around the kitchen. It had been a few months since she had met Sam and Dean, and she had decided to stick with them. They’d all saved each other’s asses multiple times: they were all fond of each other by this point. Y/n smiles lightly as she stirs the potatoes, adding some more spices.

    She glances over her shoulder when a door creaks open, and smiles. “Sam,” she says, turning back to the stove after nodding at him. He stares at her, a tentative smile on his lips.

    “What’re you doing?” He asks, striding over to her.

    “I’m makin’ dinner,” y/n replies, her eyes sparkling as she looks up at him. “Today’s Thanksgiving, remember?” Sam’s eyes light up, and he smiles.

    “Can I help?”

    “If you really want.” Sam smiles and moves to her side, resisting the urge to sling his arm around her waist and pull her closer.

    “I’m no master chef,” he says, peeking into the pot of homemade mashed potatoes, “but I can cook…some.” Y/n peeks up at him, quirking one eyebrow up. “A little bit,” Sam says, his lips twitching into a smile. “Real simple things.” Y/n smiles warmly and nudges him slightly.

    “That’s good. You could make…the stuffing? There’s a box over there- nothing fancy, it’s simple. Just follow the instructions on the box.” Sam nods and snags the box, pulling out a pot with it.

    They fall into a comfortable silence as they cook, slowly making their way to desert preparations. Y/n lifts the huge bag of flour, attempting to put it onto the counter. Sam laughs, watching her struggle with it for a few seconds before moving forward, reaching out to grab it.

    “Here, I got it y/n/n.” She laughs and pulls away slightly.

    “No,” she says, grunting as she attempts to lift it up again. “I- can carry…this…on…m-shi-” Before either of them can react, the flour bag slips from her hands and crashes to the ground, exploding all over the place. “No,” Y/n whines slightly, coughing as she inhales some of the flour. Sam’s lips curls into a smile.

    “Why’d you get that big bag anyways, y/n/n?” He asks.

    “You never know how much flour you’ll need,” she murmurs, crouching down next to the huge pile. “This- this is gonna take ages to clean up, and then we’ll need to get more flour…” She sighs, and Sam crouches down next to her.

    “It’s not that bad, y/n/n. It’ll only take half an hour, with both of us working.” She sighs, and covers her face with her hands, shaking her head.

    “I just-” Her sentence is lost to a yelp when she feels the silky powder flow down her back and poof around her face, and she whips her head up, causing flour to fly everywhere. “What the- Sam, what are you-” before she can say anything else, Sam grins and nudges her slightly, causing her to fall forward into the flour pile. “Sam Winchester you stop it right now!” She shouts, a light giggle clouding her anger. Sam laughs as she sits up, almost completely covered in flour. “Sam,” she reaches out, attempting to push him into the pile, but he just nudges her back down. Y/n closes her eyes and holds her hand out. “Sam, seriously. We need to clean this up.” Sam’s smile fades, and he nods, reaching out and grabbing her hand to help her up.

    That’s when she pulls him down, and he falls into the shrinking pile of flour. He gasps, staring at her with wide eyes. “You didn’t,” he says. Y/n smiles slyly and shrugs, throwing a handful of flour in his face. “Oh-okay, that’s it.”

       “Sammy! Have you seen if Y/n was done with-” Dean’s sentence cuts short when he sees Sam and Y/n lying on the kitchen floor, making snow angels out of…flour? Y/n’s eyes widen at this, and she leaps up.

    “Oh, no. Oh, I’m so sorry.” She murmurs, opening the oven only to be greeted with a billowing cloud of smoke. “O-oh no,” she whispers, staring at the crisp turkey. “I- I totally forgot about dinner.” Sam stands up quickly, swaying slightly.

    “It was my fault, Dean.” He says, seeing his brother’s stone-cold expression. Dean’s gaze flits between the two of him, and he purses his lips.

    “Dean- no, I’m sorry- It was my fault, I-” Dean laughs, his face breaking out into a smile.

    “Ah, don’t worry about it kiddo.” He says. “You and Sammy just clean up the kitchen, mkay? I’ll go see if I can’t grab us something.” He pulls the keys out of his pocket, and then turns around, almost as an afterthought. “By the way- why are you guys covered in flour?”

    Sam and Y/n point to each other, each attempting an innocent, puppy dog eye. Dean’s lips quirk up in another small smile, and he shakes his head, going out to the garage.

    “Love-sick.” He murmurs to himself. “That’s what they are- clueless, love-sick psychos.”

_____________________

Tags: Feel free to ask to be added or removed at any time!

SPN Tags: @thatshellfiredean , @elma-shay

Liked It? Leave feedback! It helps me to know what y’all like, what you want to see more of, and helps me improve my writing.

________

Request Something

[imagining-supernatural]

Avenging Angel: Part 38

Summary: You’ve spent the last five years on a dangerous mission to solve the crime that wrongly imprisoned your father. When the Winchesters find you half-frozen on the side of a mountain, they make it their own mission to save your life and make sure you stay alive. But after five years of uncovering horribly dark secrets, you’ve learned not to trust anyone. Especially people who seem like they have good intentions.

Word Count: 1723

Warnings: Angst, as per usual

A/N: So, it’s been nearly a year since I started writing this (over Christmas break in 2016)... maybe I’ll finish it before the 1 year anniversary? Who knows!

Avenging Angel Series Masterlist

The yellow school bus at the curb might as well have been a giant, evil, fire-breathing dragon.

“Daddy, I—I don’t feel well.” You faked a cough. “Maybe I should stay home.”

“Nice try, Y/N.” He was too damn smart for his own good.

Too dang smart, you mentally corrected yourself. He didn’t like it when you cursed. Said you weren’t old enough. But all of the other kids at school cursed, and you just wanted to fit in.

“What if I really do get sick? We’ll be miles away from a hospital. And there are bears out there! I could die!”

He just laughed and got out of his truck, coming around to pull you out as well. “It’ll be good for you to go camping. I’m sure you’ll learn lots too, like how to pee in the woods and what kind of plants give you rashes.”

“Ew.” It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go camping. You were sure that you would have fun for most of it. A camping trip with your class for an entire week? You were sure to have some funny stories to tell your dad when you got home.

You’d just never been away from him for so long. At twelve years old, it might be strange to be so attached to one’s parent, but after having your mother leave you, you’d clung to your dad. You didn’t think you would be able to make it a whole week without him.

“Remember that ghost story I told you?”  You nodded. “Good. Make sure you scare everyone with that. Tell me how loudly they all scream, okay?”

“Okay,” came your small voice. You allowed him to herd you onto the bus and watched as he waved you off with a big smile on his face. Just before you pulled out of sight, you saw him tap his heart, reminding you that he was always with you.

One week. You could do this.

*****

*****

You stared at the burner phone in your hand. The phone number was already entered, all you had to do was push call.

Five years of your life.

Twenty-nine years of unconditional love.

It all ended like this.

You hit call.

The sun was setting behind the treeline and a crackle of the fire Dean started was behind you. It was a beautiful night. You didn’t notice a single part of it.

“Hello?”

“Braxton,” you breathed, relieved that he’d answered. If he hadn’t, you weren’t sure you would have gotten the courage to call him again.

“Y/N? Where are you? Where’s Kemuny?”

Your hand shot up to your mouth in an attempt to hold back a sob, but nothing in the world could help you there. “Dead. Braxton, he’s dead. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have taken him away from you. It was so stupid. Your people could have protected him, but I… I just wanted my dad back. I wanted him back and now he’s dead.”

No more words could get out when your throat closed up and your legs couldn’t hold you up anymore. The dirt was dry beneath your fingers, rocks digging into your palm.

“Y/N, please tell me you’re lying. Tell me you just want me to think he’s dead so I’ll leave you alone. He’s not really dead.”

“I’m so sorry, Brax.” There was no way he could mistake the strain of your voice. “I was selfish. I couldn’t see that he was our only hope against Victoria. I didn’t see that she’s the one we really need to take down. I just wanted my dad back and now Victoria’s going to kill us all and it’s all my fault.”

He was silent for a long moment. “Where are you? Let me come get you. We can figure something out together.”

Tears fell to the dirt, darkening the earth. “No. No, I can’t. I just—it’s over for me, Brax. I can’t fight anymore. Not without my dad.”

“Y/N, I know how much you must be hurting right now, just let me help—”

“I started this whole thing to save my dad. The last five years, I devoted my whole life to saving him and now he’s dead because of me. I can’t, Brax. I just can’t. I called to let you know that… that… that he’s dead and you can’t count on his help anymore. I hope you figure out how to beat Victoria. I hope you kill her. But I—I can’t do it anymore. Not without him.”

“Dammit Y/N! Where are you? You don’t have to go through this alone!”

Yes, you did.

“I have the Winchesters. And you have work to do. I’m so sorry, Brax.” Before he could say anything else, you hung up and your emotions rushed up in a sneak attack. Gasping for air, you curled in on yourself. The night was warm, but you were frozen. Your organs turned to ice and a dull, numbing buzz settled over your skin like a distant electric shock.

He was gone.

It was all your fault.

Strong arms wrapped around you, easing you off the ground and into Sam’s lap. For the longest time, he just held you as you sobbed into his shirt.

It was eternities later when he finally spoke. “How did he take the news?”

Easing out of where you’d buried your face in his neck, you forced the remainder of your tears away. “He thought I was lying at first, but then… then he was just worried about me.”

It was the worst feeling you’d ever felt. You didn’t deserve anyone’s concern. It was your fault that Kemuny Y/L/N was dead. It was your fault that Victoria was going to win. It was your fault. It was all your fault.

“Can’t say I blame him.” Sam tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “So what now? Do we try to help Braxton take down Victoria? Do we trust him that much?”

“You can,” came your small voice in reply. “I’m… I’m out, Sam. I came into this mess with one goal and I fucked that up so bad that I left my father’s body on the floor of a dirty motel room next to the corpse of the man who killed him. I’m of no use to anyone.”

He wanted to argue. You could tell by the set of his jaw and the steel in his eyes. But thankfully he didn’t. Maybe he knew that you wouldn’t listen. Maybe he was starting to see that you weren’t the woman he thought you were. Whatever it was, you were grateful that he didn’t argue that point.

“So what? You’re gonna go back to the real world?”

A future without your father. Was it even possible?

“I’ve always wanted an apartment with a dog. Hell, maybe I’ll grab that bartender guy and we’ll go to Germany and be best friends. Or maybe I’ll just go to Scotland and get drunk every night and no one will think anything of it because they’ll all be drunk off their asses too.”

“Well,” he said after a moment of silence. “You don’t have to decide right now.”

“Why are you doing this, Sam? Why aren’t you trying to give me some pep talk about how I’ll regret walking away from this fight some day? That it hurts now, but it’ll get better with time? Why aren’t you… being you?”

“Because it won’t help. I wasn’t half as close to my dad as you were to yours, but it was hell when he died. It did get better, but not as much as I thought it would.”

Dean came over and sat next to the two of you. He’d obviously been listening in. “But you will regret not fighting.”

“Dean, don’t—”

“Shut up and let me talk, Sam. Y/N, your dad didn’t want Victoria to have access to those files. He was fighting against her in his own way. Once you get past the worst of this, you’ll look back and realize that you should have finished the fight that Kemuny started.”

“He never wanted me in this fight in the first place.”

“That’s too damn bad. ‘Cause you’re already in it, sweetheart. And I bet he’s damn proud of everything you’ve done.”

“You mean like getting him killed?”

There was another silent Winchester communication over your head, but you didn’t care at all. You didn’t feel left out. You just felt… nothing.

“What did he say to you, Y/N?” Sam gently prodded. “Before he died, he said something to you.”

“Just some nonsense about switching numbers and going back to Hollen.” The pained memory of his final words nearly did you in and you found yourself involuntarily curling closer to Sam.

He tightened his hold around you. “Okay then. We’ll get some sleep tonight then head back to the storage locker tomorrow.”

“Not his Hollen. My Hollen. My childhood home. I’m not going back, though. I don’t even know what the fuck he was talking about and I… I can’t handle it right now.” Pushing off the ground, you stood up and took a few steps away from camp. Your eyes were locked on the moon, already following the sun below the horizon before night even begun. Disappearing way too soon. Just like your father. “You guys can go though. See if you can puzzle it out. You’d have better luck than I would anyway.”

Soft footsteps came up behind you and Sam’s heat at your back was the only indication that he was there. “We can talk about it in the morning.”

“You guys should get some sleep. I’ll take watch tonight.” They would need the sleep more than you would anyway. They were the ones who were going to save the world. The ones who were going to fix the mess you’d made.

You were the one who was finally figuring out that they were better off without you.

“Don’t do this,” he whispered. “Don’t make me sleep alone tonight.”

Your heart beat once. The first time since your father’s heart stopped. You slowly turned around to face him, and your heart beat again. There was a depth of sorrow hidden behind his concerned hazel eyes. It broke you and you found yourself reaching for his hand. “Okay.”

Part 39 of Avenging Angel

Add Yourself To My Taglist Here!

Mobile Masterlist

[crusadedean]

I’ll Be Home For Christmas | Dean x Reader

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,372 Words

Warnings: Daddy!Dean, fluff, maybe a little angst?, mention of pregnancy, bad language 

Want to be tagged? Join my crusade.

A/N: This piece is for Kari and Ida’s 12 days of Christmas challenge by  @like-a-bag-of-potatoes and @thing-you-do-with-that-thing the prompt is Wishing Upon A Star.

Check out the masterlist for 12 Days of Christmas Challenge Here.

You were on the balcony by the room of the crappy motel you were currently staying in. You looked into the dark night sky as tiny snowflakes speckled down slowly. It was your favorite time of the year again, but you didn't really have anyone to spend it with. You never really did in the first place, but it never failed to be your favorite holiday. As you were looking into the sky you noticed a shooting star pass by. You were quick to close your eyes.

"I wish me, Sam, and Dean could have a normal happy Christmas for once." You silently wished.

"I think I could make that happen." A familiar voice said from behind you before you could react your world turned black.

You woke up in a haze, not really remembering anything that happened the night before. You sat up on the bed you were currently in. An arm wrapped itself around your waist pulling you back down into a laying down position. You looked over glad to see your husband, Dean.

"Get some sleep the kids are going to be in soon." He whispered, "You know how excited they get with Christmas."

You cuddled into him agreeing, before trying to sleep, but the gods were against you. The door to your bedroom creaked open. You pretended to be asleep hoping the small children would leave you alone if they thought you were asleep. There was tiny padding against the wood floor that came to a slight halt, which meant at least one of the kids made it over to the bed. You felt movement on the bed, but you were still holding out in hoping they'd leave you alone. 

A tiny hand came up to your face opening one of your eyelids, "Mommy, can we open presents now?"

You pulled the hand away from your eyelid gently before opening both eyes on your own and grunted, "Baby it's too early. How about you and your sister sleep with me and Daddy, then we can wake up open presents and have breakfast."

Your son gave you his best puppy dog eyes, "Pleeeease."

Before you could answer him there was a knock on the door.

"Alright," You groaned, "Sweety, why don't you and Ava go downstairs while I wake daddy up. Do not answer the door."

"Okay, mommy." He smiled over at you before hopping off the bed and walking over to your daughter, Ava grabbing her hand as they skipped out of the room.

Dean was still asleep during this you felt bad for waking him up early. He had been picking up extra shifts at the garage to afford gifts for your kids. You had offered to take more shifts too, but he wouldn't let you. You loved him to death, but you were scared sometimes he overworked himself.

"Dean," you lightly shook him, "It's time to get up. The kids want to open presents and I think your brother is here."

He groaned turning away from you, you giggled reaching over and giving a small kiss on the cheek. 

"C'mon babe Mason and Ava are eager to open their presents."

He moaned once again before getting up and putting on a pair of pants. He leaned over giving you a quick, but sweet kiss on the lips.

"Good morning, beautiful." He smiled before walking out of the bedroom. You figured to answer the door for his brother, deciding to get out of bed and follow him out.

When you reached the bottom of the stairs all the Winchesters were there. Greeting your husband with hugs, you smiled at the view. He got so happy when they were all in one place. Once they were all done saying there hellos to both you and Dean you all went into the living room where your kids were silently waiting in front of the tree.

"Ava, Mason say hi to everyone."

The kids turned their eyes away from the Christmas presents and looked at their family.  Mason was the first to get up, he bolted straight for his grandpa. He was John's little partner in crime. Ava though was always a little shy. She slowly walked over to you hiding behind your leg. You looked down and picked her up, taking her over to her favorite family member, Jess. Jess was currently holding her and Sam's newborn little girl. Noticing you walking towards her with Ava put a smile on her face. They talked to each other for a few before you helped Ava welcome the rest of the family.

"Presents, presents," Mason yelled as he ran back to the Christmas tree. You all chuckled at his excitement, setting down Ava she bolted straight after Mason. Everyone sat down exchanging presents before opening them.

The living room was a mess, full of wrapping paper and toys scattered throughout it. After opening presents you and Mary made breakfast for everyone as the kids-and some adults-played with their new toys. The rest of the day was filled with conversations about your new niece and watching the kids enjoy Christmas.

Now everyone was gone leaving the small house completely silent. You stood looking at your kids who had both crashed out on the couch, you never knew how the had so much energy to go all day, they always refuse naps. You were about to start picking up the mess everyone had created when you felt a pair of arms slip around your waist, knowing it was Dean.

He kissed you on the cheek before saying, "Why don't you go get ready for bed. I can take care of this mess and the kids. You've been going all day."

"I can help, Dean. You've done a lot today too."

"I'm fine, sweetheart. Now get upstairs before I carry you up to that room myself," He smirked over at you before walking away over to Mason and picking him up. You watched with joy in your eyes, he was perfect. This was too perfect, all of the sudden all of this seemed too much like it was too good to be real. Your mind started to feel hazy again and your vision was blurry. Suddenly your head started pounding, you reached up grabbing it trying to find a way to ease the pain. Then in an instant, it was all gone, you looked back up and it was clear. There you were still on the balcony of the cheap hotel, none of it was real. You turned around quick remembering you heard a voice before all of this happened.

"Merry Christmas," It was Gabriel, The Trickster, one of the biggest dicks among all archangels, well that may have been exaggerating it a little but still.

"What the hell was that?" You questioned with a yell.

"A present, in return I expect you to put your dogs on a leash."

"What are you talking about," you glared at him.

"That boyfriend of yours and sad eyes, lead them away from me. Tell them you found a better case or that you think there's nothing here. I don't care what you do just get them to stop looking for me."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because I gave you a gift." He said matter-of-factly.

"What kind of gift was that if it was taken all away?"

"Well, I mean you and Dean could have it. You're just both too stubborn to give up hunting."

"Is that so? You going to bring John, Mary, and Jess back to life too if we give up hunting."

"Now that I cannot do, but the marriage, kids, you could have it all. In fact, you've already started on one of those." He hinted.

"What?"

"You're pregnant, so you might want to start thinking about giving up this whole hunting thing. Does that count as a present now? If so mind telling your boys it's time to hit the road?"

"I'll do it, just get out of here. Go terrorize some other town. When there's nothing happening, we'll leave."

With that, the asshat of an archangel was out of your sight as you stood there stunned wondering how the hell you were going to tell Dean what just happened.

TAGS:

Forever Tags: @walkingkhaleesi​

SPN Tags: @mogaruke​

Dean Tags: @akshi8278  @dailymisha​

[imagining-supernatural]

Looking Forward To It

Summary: Your friend from college surprises you with a visit while he’s in town

Word Count: 1846

Warnings: None!

A/N: I started writing this a week after I started this blog (before I wrote Just Leave), but I couldn’t quite get into the Sam frame of mind since I was 100% a Dean!Girl back then, but I thought I would try to get over my writer’s block on As It Seems by finishing this up. So I hope you all enjoy a fluffy Sam oneshot! And I hope my muse comes back from vacation soon!

Version en Español: Lo Estoy Deseando

“Let’s run it again,” you said as soon as the five minutes you’d allotted for a break was up. Surprisingly, no one complained. You’d been rehearsing like a slave driver all day and none of your fellow dancers seemed like they were ready to drop from exhaustion yet.

Everyone got in their positions and you pushed play on the remote. As soon as the guitar played the opening notes of Ellie Goulding’s On My Mind, all fifteen of you started moving. You’d choreographed the entire dance and were proud of the simple complexity of the movements. Each dancer interacted with every other dancer at some point in the song. The simple moves you based the dance off took a whole new life with every beat that passed, and the artistic leeway you’d given everyone else to add in their own flavor just made the dance seem like a mess of styles and bodies, but there were certain parts of the song when everyone would suddenly snap into simultaneous movement, only to break apart a few beats later.

Three and a half minutes later, the music ended and everyone was grinning from ear to ear. They could all tell that it had been the best run-through yet.

“Alright guys, you’re free to go. We’re totally ready for this weekend,” you announced. Despite their happy moods and eagerness to dance, they all relaxed immediately and started for the door. You turned to get your water, but were arrested at the sight of a familiar man standing at the door, watching you. “Sam?”

“Y/N,” Sam smiled and walked over to pull you into a hug.

You squirmed out of his arms. “Sam, I’m all sweaty.”

He just laughed it off. “So? I haven’t seen you in, what’s it been?”

“Six years? Seven? What happened to you after you left?”

Sam leaned down and grabbed your bag with your street shoes and handed it to you. You grinned at the familiar movement. Back when you’d been attending Stanford at the same time, you’d befriended the friendly giant. Jess had been one of your best friends and you actually ended up introducing them.

Then the fire killed Jess, and Sam went MIA. You couldn’t blame him. You’d wanted to run away too, but instead you’d channeled everything into your dancing and graduated at the very top of your class. In just a few short years you’d managed to work your way to the top of the most prestigious dance companies in the nation. Once you accomplished that, you found that you were becoming bored, so you quit and started your own company to compete all around the nation.

“I’ve just been working with my brother. What about you? Still dancing, I see.”

“I don’t think I could stop if I tried,” you grinned and quickly changed into your street shoes and pulled on some sweats.

Sam led the way outside and glanced at the street where a beautiful black car was parked. He pulled you to a stop under the shade of a tree. “So, my brother and I are in town for a few days. Do you wanna get drinks sometime?”

“I’ve got a competition this weekend so—“

“Coffee, then?” He changed his offer, knowing that you didn’t drink alcohol before a competition, not that you drank much anyway.

A soft smile came over your face. “Sure. I’d like that.”

“Great! So…” He trailed off, apparently not knowing what to say next.

“Oh, well I guess I should give you my new number, then.” You scrambled to get your phone out of your bag and exchanged numbers with Sam. You made plans to meet at a local diner the next day before parting ways.

As you walked away, guilt warred with happiness. You were glad that you’d run into Sam, but felt guilty for feeling so happy about the semi-date. It felt wrong somehow, since he used to date Jess who used to be your best friend. You didn’t want to move in on her territory and tarnish the memory of their relationship, but you’d liked Sam before he even knew Jess.

However, your feelings hadn’t meant squat after they met. They were practically a match made in heaven.

Still, the guilt didn’t stop you from spending more time than usual on your makeup the next day. You got to the diner a few minutes early and waited outside in the sun for Sam. You closed your eyes and leaned back against the warm glass window. There wasn’t much time to just relax anymore. You were either in a dance studio, or in your office at your apartment. Running your own dance company and scouting for competitions worth your time took more time than you’d imagined.

Footsteps approaching prompted you to open your eyes and your smile was immediate when you saw Sam walking up. You barely noticed the other man next to him as you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around Sam, giving him a real hug, now that you were clean. “Hey, Sam.”

“Y/N.” Sam stepped back, but he kept a hand on the small of your back. “This is my brother Dean.”

His alarmingly green eyes were the first thing you saw, then you noticed the rest of him. “Nice to meet you, Dean.” To Sam, you stage-whispered, “Your family has great genes.”

Sam just rolled his eyes and nudged you toward the door. The three of you picked a booth and slid in, Dean on one side, you and Sam on the other. Dean rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “So how did you two meet?”

“She tackled me,” Sam said casually.

You smacked his arm with the back of your hand. “I did not!” You turned back to Dean. “I was running late for class one day and literally ran into Sam because he was loitering around a corner like some creeper.”

“I was looking at a map, not loitering,” Sam argued.

You twisted around on the bench seat until you were facing him. Cocking an eyebrow, you smirked. “And it’s not possible to multi-task? You can definitely loiter and look at a map at the same time.”

The waitress came over and took your orders. Sam grinned at your usual order of salad and “as many fries as you can fit onto a plate as possible.” He and Jess used to tease you about your contradictory taste in food. Really though, it was just the fries. You ate healthy nearly all the time, but if a place had fries, then you were sunk. Self-control out the window. Hasta la vista, baby.

“What’ve you been doing besides dancing?” Sam asked.

And you laughed. “You think I really have a social life or hobbies? I think I went to an amusement park like, a year ago? Someone from my dance crew dragged me on a hike last month. But that’s about it.”

“We’ll have to do something about that while I’m in town.”

Did he just ask you out on a date? You glanced over at his brother, but noticed that he had all of his attention focused on the waitress who was making her rounds. So he would be no help in deciphering Sam’s words.

You stuck with the generic, “Yeah. That sounds fun.”

“What’s there—I was about to ask you what there is to do around here, but I guess you wouldn’t know, huh?” Sam’s eyes were twinkling. Honest to God, twinkling. The sparkle seemed to short-circuit your brain, but you decided that you could write that off as a reaction to actual social interaction after years of never leaving a dance studio.

Yeah.

That’s totally what it was.

“I’ve heard people say there’s great hiking and swimming holes around here, but I wouldn’t have the faintest idea of where to start. And there’s the usual bowling alley and bars.”

The waitress returned with your food and both you and Sam watched Dean flirt with her for the brief moment she was at your table. Then you watched in amazement as he tore into his burger as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

“So, uh,” Sam drew your attention back to him and away from the love affair his brother was having with his food. “I’ll ask around and find something fun for us to do, just the two of us. How’s that sound?”

Just the two of you. Sounded an awful lot like a date.

“Great. That sounds great. I have the competition on Saturday morning, but I’m free after about two.”

Dean cut in, mouth still half full of burger. He pointed to your overflowing plate of fries. “You gonna eat all those?”

Like Lucky the Leprechaun and his Lucky Charms, you pulled your plate closer and shielded it with your arm. “Don’t mess with my fries, dude.”

He held his hands up in surrender and glanced between you and Sam with an amused half-smile. “Sorry. Didn’t know you were so serious about your fries.”

“If it’s got potatoes in it, Y/N will kill a man for it,” Sam said as he began to laugh. “I remember that time Gerald tried to steal some of your mashed potatoes and you literally stabbed him with your fork. Like, the fork was sticking out of his hand. He learned the lesson the hard way.”

For a brief moment, you started to feel embarrassed at the memory, but then you caught yourself. This was Sam. Your friend from college. Sure, you hadn’t seen him in forever, so you were nearly strangers again, but he was still your friend. And, hell, his brother talked with his mouth full. There was nothing to be embarrassed about.

“He’s just lucky I didn’t have a knife in my hand.”

You and Sam spent the rest of lunch reminiscing about the good times, and Dean threw in a few of his own stories. Before you knew it, your few hours’ break had passed and you needed to get back to the studio. The three of you walked out into the sunshine and Dean headed straight for his car, but you and Sam lingered on the sidewalk, not ready to let go of the moment yet.

“So, I’ll try to make it to your competition on Saturday and I promise not to bring Dean. He’ll probably sneak in an airhorn or one of those giant foam fingers or something.” Sam laughed airily and you responded with a grin. Dean sure was an interesting guy. “And I’ll let you know about afterwards, okay?”

“You better. I’m looking forward to it already.”

Eyes locked, the two of you smiled at each other for a long minute before he cleared his throat and glanced around. “Well, I’d uh, I’d better get going. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

“Counting on it. Bye Sam.”

You watched him walk away, using the opportunity with his back to you to unabashedly check him out. That confident walk and those broad shoulders sure make your imagination start swirling.

Looking forward to it indeed.

Add Yourself To My Taglist Here!

Mobile Masterlist

[imagining-supernatural]

Avenging Angel: Part 37

Summary: You’ve spent the last five years on a dangerous mission to solve the crime that wrongly imprisoned your father. When the Winchesters find you half-frozen on the side of a mountain, they make it their own mission to save your life and make sure you stay alive. But after five years of uncovering horribly dark secrets, you’ve learned not to trust anyone. Especially people who seem like they have good intentions.

Word Count: 2328

Warnings: None

Avenging Angel Series Masterlist

“This is the third time this month you’ve visited me,” your father greeted when you sat down on your side of the glass. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. A little boring and slow, but it’s good.” He thought you were talking about the job you’d made up so he would think you were living the normal nine-to-five life. You were really talking about how you’d made no progress on cracking the mystery surrounding your father’s arrest. Even with your mysterious new internet friend, t9, you still couldn’t get a break.

“Bear, you should consider switching jobs if you’re unhappy where you are.”

If only life were that easy. “But this one keeps me nearby so I can visit you when I want. I think that’s a pretty good benefit.”

A sorrowful shadow flickered behind his eyes. “You can’t plan your life around me. I’ll still be here for when you can come visit.”

That’s what I’m trying to fix, you thought. But if getting out the area would help you shake some new ideas loose… Maybe getting an actual job would help pad your bank account so you could have enough resources to do the kind of research you needed.

“Besides, I’ve heard that the DC area is a great place for computer nerds like you.”

“Hey!” your protest was overshadowed by the smile on your face. When your dad teased you, it was as if you could escape for a moment and pretend that everything was fine. That he wasn’t in prison and that you weren’t living in a storage unit a few hours away.

*****

*****

“Who was that? That-that man who can teleport?” Your dad asked as soon as Dean pulled out of the motel parking lot.

“That was Crowley.” You hesitated to explain what Crowley was before remembering that your dad had married a werewolf. “He’s a demon.”

He just nodded as if that was normal. “You have a demon helping you?”

“We have a demon helping himself. What he wants just happens to be aligned with what we want at the moment,” Dean supplied. “Where are we going, by the way?”

Good question. Where could you go that both Covington parties and your mother couldn’t find you? “Somewhere no one would expect?”

“We could go to the bunker,” Sam suggested, but you were already shaking your head.

“George shifted into Dean. He saw that the bunker is a safe place for you two. We can’t go anywhere they’d expect us to.”

All four of you stayed silent for a moment. You supposed you could go camping, but then you wouldn’t have wifi and you needed wifi. It was practically the air that you breathed. Anywhere you’d been with Braxton was also out of the question.

Braxton.

When you’d left the ring behind, you’d been leaving more than just the ring behind. In that room, after Crowley took your father away, everything had changed. The tentative friendship you and Braxton had was completely demolished. He’d prioritized his goal of getting your father over your own safety and well-being. Then you stabbed him.

Yeah. You didn’t just leave the ring behind. You’d left Braxton behind. That chapter of your life was finished now and there was no going back.

There were tendrils of grief trying to slip into your heart at the thought of losing a friend like him, but you pushed them away. There were more important things at the moment.

“The storage unit? George didn’t seem to get that from my mind when he shifted.”

Right. That was weird. You turned to your father. “Why? George shifted into Dean after Dean had been to the storage unit with all of your research, but he didn’t know a thing about it. He should have known where it was.”

“I had a witch enchant all of the research that could help…” Kemuny sighed. “Anything that could help your mother and the Covingtons. She never knew exactly where the storage unit was, even though she was paying for it.”

“And she helped you with most of that research, so it didn’t really matter to her anyway. She already knows all of it.”

“Exactly.”

Well, that answered that question.

“I still don’t think we should go there. We shouldn’t go anywhere near there.” You started thinking aloud. “Even if they don’t know exactly where it was, they still probably have us on CC cameras and security cameras. Anywhere we’ve stayed for a few days is out of the question.”

“So we just drive?” Dean asked, not opposed to that option at all.

“We just drive,” you and Sam repeated at the same time.

As Dean wound through the streets towards a backroad out of town, you unbuckled your seatbelt and slid to the middle seat to hug your dad sideways. “Are you okay, daddy?”

“Well, considering a Covington helped me escape prison and now I’m in the backseat of a Winchester car with my honey bear, I’m not entirely sure I’m not dreaming.”

With a low chuckle, you stayed under his arm and buckled yourself into the middle seat. “It’s not a dream, I promise.”

“You didn’t have a chance to tell me exactly why a Covington wanted me out of prison when you came by last time. Seems like there’s a lot going on that I need to get up to date on.”

“Five years’ worth of stuff.”

“Start at the beginning, then. Anything you’ve left out when you came to visit me.”

Oh boy, he was in for quite the story.

“Well, first off, Charles Haverton is a dickwad. How did you ever work with him and not punch him?”

*****

“So there’s George Covington, Braxton Covington, and Victoria,” Sam summed up, hours later. “We know what Braxton supposedly wants. We have an idea of what George wants. But Victoria… she’s the wild card.”

“One room or two?” Dean interrupted as he pulled into a motel parking lot in the middle of whatever state you were currently in.

“One,” was your immediate reply. Safety in numbers. “Dad gets a bed, Sam and I get the other, and you get the couch.”

He raised an eyebrow at you in the rearview mirror and you just shrugged. “What? I’m understandably a little paranoid and want to feel as safe as possible.”

While Dean went and got the room, your dad narrowed his eyes at Sam. “So, you and my little girl, huh?”

“Oh my god, daddy.”

He kept his glare focused on Sam for a moment longer. “I suppose you’re better than that Covington prick.”

“Thank you.”

“So, anyway…” Time to get back on track of discussing what was happening in the world. “Dad, do you have any idea what Victoria might be planning?”

He pursed his lips and turned his eyes to stare blankly out the windshield. “Victoria is… she’s a very determined woman. She’s made many plans—many more plans than I’m aware of, I’m sure.”

“But what is she planning now?”

He closed his eyes, getting lost in the past and you glanced at Sam, who was watching Kemuny with eyebrows drawn together. So he sensed that your father was holding something back as well. It was good to know that you weren’t letting your paranoia get the best of you.

Unfortunately, before Kemuny could decide to let you and Sam in on his thoughts, Dean came back and led all of you to the ground-level room he’d gotten. You tossed your bag onto a bed, not even bothering to go about your usual routine of pulling your laptop out and connecting to the internet first thing.

“Dad, what’s she up to? We need to know if we have any hope of figuring out how to dismantle all those weird monster alliances.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll tell you everything. But first, I need a drink.”

Three pairs of eyes tracked his movements to the kitchen where he proceeded to fill up a plastic cup with water. It was so good to have your father back in your life again, but you’d forgotten just how secretive and slightly annoying he could be. Especially now when your anxiety levels were already through the roof.

The motel room door burst open. Your previous train of thought ended abruptly and you whirled around at the sound of cracking wood and reached for the knife in your pocket. Immediately you recognized the intruders as some of Victoria’s goons from pictures Dean had showed you. That was all you were able to process before one of them charged at Kemuny. With a yell, you leaped forward and swiped at the man. There was no way he was going to hurt your father.

Not on your watch.

You didn’t quite reach him, but it was enough to distract him. Kemuny had frozen, but at least the man’s attention wasn’t on him anymore.

He was completely focused on you. “You first, huh?”

Oh, shit. The training the Winchesters had put you through was definitely not enough to face this guy. Three more men came barreling into the room. Sam and Dean would have their hands full with them. You were on your own.

“Y/N, no!” Your father shouted as you set your jaw, ready to hold him off until the Winchesters could get to you.

The man turned towards him. It was enough of a distraction for you to jump the last few feet and sink the blade into the man’s shoulder blade. With a howl of pain, he twisted around. His arm flung out and you went flying back, hitting the table with a sickening thud. Unlike the movies, the table didn’t break and you ended up flipping backwards off of it. Your back hit the floor and your breath was completely knocked out of you. Stars started flickering in your vision.

Dazed, you nearly forgot what was happening. For a few brief seconds, it was as if you were floating.

Then a dismembered head rolled onto the floor in front of your face. Sparked into action again, you ignored the pain in the back of your head and climbed to your feet. This man was too muscular for you to fight hand to hand.

So you would have to think outside the box.

As he advanced on your father who had even less combat training than you did, you threw your whole body at the back of his knees, sending him tumbling to the floor. He reached out and grabbed Kemuny, taking him down with him. Your body heated up and the blood rushing through your veins sounded like deafening waves on a beach, but you couldn’t give up.

The three of you were a tangle of limbs on the ground. The knife was clenched in your fingers. The opportune moment had to show up soon. You just had to be sure to use it on Victoria’s man, not your father.

You noticed his knife too late.

Dark red blood soaked through your clothes, but you felt no pain. He hadn’t gotten you.

That just left your father.

“NOOO!!” You barely heard your own scream. Your vision blurred with anger and you slashed at the intruder’s throat. Blood gurgled from the wound like a rust filled mountain stream. The shock in his eyes didn’t deter you. Again and again your knife impaled the tender flesh of his neck.

“Y/N!” Sam’s sharp voice and his hands on your arms dragged you away from the man you’d just killed. “Y/N, he’s dead. You won.”

As you came down from the emotional high, horror started creeping into your body. The man was all but decapitated. You’d done that.

You did it for your father, you reminded yourself.

“Dad!” The reminder spurred you to turn around and kneel by the man who raised you. The only family you had left. The only person who had been there for you your entire life. The man who was lying in a puddle of his own blood. You knew once the puddle of blood got to a certain point it was all over. It would be too late. But you didn’t know what that point was. He couldn’t get there. You had to save him.

Your fingers skipped over his torso, mind shutting down at the sight of so much of his blood. “Daddy, you’re gonna be okay. We’ll fix you up. It’s just a little wound. We’ve all had worse, right?”

“Bear,” he forced out. Tears welled over your eyelashes at the pain etched into the nickname. “Honey bear, you gotta go. She… she’ll send more.”

Forcefully shaking your head, you yanked your jacket off and pressed it against the stab wound. “I’m not leaving you. We’re gonna fix you up. I’ve stitched myself up before. I can do it for you. I promise you that—”

“Raptor.”

Raptor. That one word shut you up. It was the only part of that message that you hadn’t been able to figure out.

“What?”

“That’s your mother’s plan.”

“What is raptor? Daddy, you can’t die. You have to help us. I just got you back!”

He covered your anxious hand with his and gently eased it away from the wound. “Switch the numbers, bear. Go back to your Hollen. Switch the numbers. It’s all there.”

“No, no, no. You’re coming with me. We’ll do this together.”

His grip started slipping and you felt your body start hydroplaning. You were losing control. There were torrential rains battering every side of you, and you couldn’t steer. “Daddy!”

“I love you, honey bear.”

“No, don’t do this. Don’t die on me!”

With the last reserve of his strength, he reached up and tapped on your chest right above your heart. “I’m always with you.”

You couldn’t deny it anymore.

“I love you too, daddy.” Emotion clogged your throat, and you weren’t sure your words were even understandable. But his lips curled up at the corners as he exhaled for the last time.

And your heart completely shattered.

Part 38 of Avenging Angel

Add Yourself To My Taglist Here!

Mobile Masterlist

[imagining-supernatural]

Avenging Angel: Part 36

Summary: You’ve spent the last five years on a dangerous mission to solve the crime that wrongly imprisoned your father. When the Winchesters find you half-frozen on the side of a mountain, they make it their own mission to save your life and make sure you stay alive. But after five years of uncovering horribly dark secrets, you’ve learned not to trust anyone. Especially people who seem like they have good intentions.

Word Count: 2457

Warnings: None

Avenging Angel Series Masterlist

“Why did I let you talk me into this?” You hissed at Angelica. Your friend just grinned, grabbed your hand, and pulled you along.

“It’ll be fun!”

“You’ve seen me around people. I can’t even hold a conversation, much less do improv!”

Her smile just got bigger. “Then it’ll be fun for me!”

It was only your first month at college and the one friend you’d made in your classes was already dragging you along to an entire night of public humiliation.

Or, as most people knew it, open improv night.

And honestly, what kind of improv club held their meetings in an old run-down theatre that was only accessible through a dark alley off of Center Street? Wasn’t that a pretty big clue that this was not a good idea?

“If I get mugged, it’s all your fault,” you mumbled when she put all her weight behind pulling open the heavy steel door. Sure, you could have helped her, but why would you?

“You’ll thank me later. Improv is a great skill to have. Even being stuck behind a computer, like you’ll be for the rest of your life.”

Fun? Doubtful. Highly doubtful, but still, you followed her.

*****

*****

It took you twenty minutes to get to the front doors of the prison and get buzzed in. You and Braxton pretended that you didn’t want to talk to the reporters. You pretended to be surprised and angry that someone had tipped them off to your plans for the day. You pretended that you wanted to keep your relationship as private as you could, though that wasn’t entirely a lie. As you pretended all those things, though, you didn’t push through the crowd as aggressively as you would have had you not been pretending.

You had to kill time, after all.

By the time you were buzzed in, your dad should be being smuggled into a hidey-hatch in a van, and soon he would be on his way out of there.

“I never thought I’d be meeting my fiancée’s dad in a prison,” Braxton said conversationally, keeping up the appearance.

“I never thought I’d have to introduce the man I love to my dad in a prison either.”

Alarms went off just then, and all of the workers in the prison jumped into action. You acted surprised and scared when you saw all of the extra security measures automatically fall into place and the many locks being engaged.

“What’s going on?” Braxton demanded, wrapping an arm around your shoulders protectively.

“I’m sorry, but I need you to follow me,” a burly security guard said, not giving you much choice as his buddy came up behind you.

“I just want to see my dad!” Make a scene. Drag this out as long as possible. Give the extraction team as long as they needed to get out. “What the hell is happening?”

“Just a lockdown. It’s nothing to worry about. Now if you’ll—”

“Just a lockdown?” You voice went up an octave and fear crept into it. “I’ve been here so many times and there’s never been a lockdown! Are we in danger? Why is there a lockdown? I know this isn’t normal! Is my dad okay? Please tell me he didn’t get beat up again.”

The guard seemed like he was ready to knock you out just so you would shut up. “Ma’am, I know this might be frightening, but we have to move you to a secure location so we can do our rounds and check on all of the inmates.”

Sliding out from under Braxton’s arm, you grabbed the security guard’s and looked up into his face with pleading eyes. “Will you please tell me how my dad is? Tell me that he’s safe?”

“As soon as we get you in a secure location and I do my rounds, I’ll send someone to let you know. Which inmate is your father?”

“Kemuny Y/L/N,” you answered as you finally let him lead you through the hallways and into a private meeting room. You’d think that checking visitors for any weapons would be a priority during a lockdown, but when he left you and Braxton alone, you still had Dean’s knife in your pocket.

“And now we wait,” Braxton whispered, pulling you into his arms as if he was comforting you and calming you. You peeked up at the camera in the corner of the room and wondered if Sam was watching you. Hopefully he was. The idea calmed you.

After a few minutes where you paced back and forth and ranted to Braxton about how worried you were for your father, and Braxton playing the good fiancé and pretending to calm you down, the two of you ended up sitting on the chairs, hands joined between you.

Then the door opened and two guards escorted a man in a suit in.

From your research over the past few years, you knew that this was Isaac Hunt, some higher up in the state prison system. He was in charge. You shot up from your seat as if anxious for any information on your father, and completely oblivious to what a visit from Mr. Hunt meant.

They found out that your father escaped.

He’d come to question you.

“Miss Y/N Y/L/N and Mr. Braxton Covington, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Is he okay? Is my daddy okay? Please tell me he’s not being transferred to the hospital again. I hate seeing him hurt.”

“Please, have a seat.” Mr. Hunt waved towards your abandoned chairs and you gingerly sat down. “I think you know exactly what is going on here.”

You crafted a wide-eyed, confused face and turned to Braxton, who also seemed lost. “What are you talking about? I just came to introduce my fiancé to my father. If I knew there would be a lockdown, we would have planned this for another day.”

“What is going on?” Braxton demanded in an authoritative, spoiled rich boy voice. “We have a tight schedule and a flight to catch later today. If we aren’t going to be able to meet with Kemuny because of this lockdown, then we’ll just come back another time.”

“Is he okay?” Your concern over your father’s safety would be your safety blanket to hide behind.

Mr. Hunt inclined his head thoughtfully. “You tell me. He isn’t in his cell.”

“What?!” Shooting up out of your chair, you rushed towards the three men. “You’ve gotta find him! He’s probably in some dark corner, bleeding out because another one of your crazy inmates beat him up again! Let me look for him, please!”

“Sit down!” One of the security guards bellowed, and you cowered slightly, but if this had been real, you wouldn’t back down when you believed your father was in danger.

“This is the entire system’s fault! What kind of a justice system lets an innocent man go to jail? My father would never hurt a damn fly, and you put him in a prison full of murderers and psychopaths and killers and expect him to be able to defend himself? If he’s injured, it’s all your fault!”

“I said, SIT DOWN!” This time his voice was closer to a roar, and Braxton grabbed your arm to pull you back to him. You didn’t sit down, but you stopped your emotional yelling.

It was three hours later when you were finally released. Three hours of questioning. Three hours of being accused of helping your father escape. Three hours of crying because your overly-sensitive womanly emotions couldn’t handle the accusations and stress of not knowing where your father was. Three hours of the guards not knowing how to handle an emotional woman. Three hours of Braxton yelling about how he needed to call his lawyers.

Three hours of craziness, basically.

But finally they decided that you had nothing to do with his escape, so they let you go. Once you were in the car with darkly tinted windows, you collapsed back into the soft cushions with a long, deep sigh. Acting was hard.

“They got him out without a hitch. They’re waiting at the meet-up point,” Braxton read from the phone he’d left in the car.

“Oh, thank God.”

*****

“Daddy!” As soon as you saw him standing in the hotel room Braxton had reserved for the day, you flew across the room and hugged him as closely as you possibly could. Five years without a real hug was too damn long. Sure, you had a hell of a lot of things to discuss. Sure, you were still mad at him for countless reasons. But he was your dad and you still loved him.

For the longest time, no one in the room said anything. Then Braxton cleared his throat and you eased your face out of Kemuny’s neck to look over at him. “We need to get going.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you dad said hotly. “Y/N and I are leaving and you’ll let us.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but that’s not an option.” Hearing Braxton call your dad sir was so weird that you almost didn’t process the rest of his words.

Shit. You didn’t have a plan to get your dad away from Braxton. You’d been so focused on playing the emotionally-strung-out daughter at the prison that you hadn’t remembered to make this plan.

“Like hell it isn’t! I vowed to never help another Covington as long as I lived and I intend to keep that vow.”

“Daddy,” you mumbled. Braxton wouldn’t hurt him. You knew that much. If Kemuny went with Braxton now, then you and the Winchesters could think up a plan to get him away soon. It would be easier than getting him out of prison.

“I’m not leaving you, Honey Bear.”

“You can come with us, Y/N,” Braxton said. That was what he’d wanted all along. He needed Kemuny and he still thought that he needed you to get to your mom. But you couldn’t give him both Y/L/Ns. You needed to go back to the Winchesters and figure out what the hell was going on.

You shrugged away from your father and took a few steps towards Braxton, completely torn. Give Braxton what he wanted, or leave without your father.

“Tell me why, Brax. Why should I trust you? Why are you any different from your father? You showed me your experiments, introduced me to my sister, and she gave me polished explanations, but I know that’s not the whole truth.”

He reached over and rested a hand on the side of your neck, looking down at you with familiarly tender eyes. “That’s the truth. I swear it, Y/N. I don’t have ulterior motives. I just want to help every species so people stop seeing them like monsters. And you and your dad can help.”

A crackle in the air broke your thoughts and unexpectedly there was one more man in the room.

Crowley.

He quickly took stock of the situation. “Well, I know you don’t trust me, but you can yell at me later, darling.”

And just as quickly as he came, he was gone, taking your father with him.

“Crowley!” You yelled, starting towards the empty spot where your dad had just been. For the first time in five years, your dad wasn’t in handcuffs when you were in the same room and now Crowley stole him away. As soon as you saw that slimy son of a bitch again, you were going to—

Braxton grabbed your arm and yanked you back towards him.

“Ow, Brax you’re hu—”

The fire in his eyes made you shut up. “I helped you break your father out of jail and this is the thanks I get?”

“Let me go! You’re hurting me.”

But he didn’t let up. If anything, his grip got harder. Maybe there would be a hand-shaped bruise there in the morning. Maybe you wouldn’t live that long and it would all be Crowley’s fault.

“You get your demon friend to bring Kemuny back here right now, Y/N! You have no idea what we’re up against. We need your father if we’re going to win!”

“Win what?”

But Braxton just clenched his jaw and impossibly tightened his grip even more. His eyes burned with intense desperation. Whatever reason he needed your dad for, it was important. The thought of losing such an asset made him… frightened? Was that the right word for his expression?

Another crackle in the air and Crowley was back. “Come on, then Y/N. It’s your turn.”

He came back. Did that mean that he really did take your father to the Winchesters? Trust the demon, or trust Braxton who looked desperate and ready to kill?

The Winchesters trusted Crowley to some degree.

You’d have a better chance of ending up with your dad if you went with Crowley, the demon who took your dad.

But Braxton wasn’t letting go of your arm.

“Let me go, Brax,” you said in a low voice, formulating a plan for when he didn’t.

“Bring Kemuny back and I’ll let her go,” Braxton said to Crowley, tugging you closer to him.

Well, it seemed like desperation was in the air today. In one swift movement, you retrieved the knife from your pocket, flicked it open, and drove it straight into the muscles of Braxton’s upper arm. He let go of you with a howl of pain, and in the few seconds that it took his body guards to react, you dashed across the room and threw yourself at Crowley. One second later and you were in a different hotel room.

“Are you okay?” Sam was instantly by your side, checking you over for any wounds. “Whose blood is that?”

“Braxton’s. We’ve gotta get out of here. He’s probably already sent people here.” A glance at your father in his prison jumpsuit reminded you that he was an escaped felon. “Dean, give dad some of your clothes to change into, Sam and I will pack the bags. We have to leave now.”

“What about me?” Crowley asked, way too calmly.

You clenched your eyes closed for a moment, steeling yourself for what you needed to say. “Thank you, Crowley. We’ve got it from here. But… thank you.”

He grinned. “We’ll be friends yet, Y/N.”

Then he was gone, and you, the Winchesters, and your father rushed to get out of the hotel. The three of them hurried out to the car, but you took an extra moment to look around the room and make sure you didn’t leave anything important. When you closed the door behind you, there was an open ring box sitting in the middle of the floor with the giant diamond ring nestled inside.

PART 37 OF AVENGING ANGEL

Add Yourself To My Taglist Here!

Mobile Masterlist

[imagining-supernatural]

13: Adrenalina

Inglés autor: @imagining-supernatural Traducido por: @kclaire1

Pedido por andhiseyesweregreen: ¡Felicidades por los 4000 cariño! Mi número es el 13 y mi frase es “Nos alejamos y acercamos como hacen los imanes.”

Recuento de palabras: 1038

N/A: He cambiado la frase un poco para poder trabajar más fácilmente. Me encanta Ed Sheeran, pero la gramática en esta frase no sirve para nada más que para ayudar a la lírica. Además, Shape of You transmite una sensación completamente opuesta a la de Adrenalina, y es super interesante descubrirlo. Para este me he situado en la temporada 11/12 pero aún estoy en fase de negación respecto al hecho de que tanto Ellen como Jo se hayan ido para siempre así que es una especie de AU ya que en este definitivamente no están muertas. (El Roadhouse nunca se quemó, Ash aun duerme en la mesa de billar y los cazadores aún se pasan por allí cada poco, ¡maldición!)

N/A.2: Me acabo de enterar de que esta canción la han hecho en colaboración con Trevor McNevan, que es el cantante de Thousand Foot Krutch, que es, como, ¿una de mis bandas favoritas? ¿QUÉ? ¿Cómo es que no lo sabía? ¿Dos de mis favoritas bandas tienen una canción juntas que he escuchado incontables veces pero no me he dado cuenta? ¿WHAT?

English Version: Adrenaline

Canción 13: Adrenalina por Nine Lashes

Desde que conociste a Sam Winchester, tu vida parecía estar cambiando y era como si no pudieras respirar adecuadamente. La situaciones en cada momento nunca parecían alinearse y nada de lo que tú hacías parecía ayudar a que se juntaran las piezas.

Habías logrado escapar del poco glorioso negocio de tu familia que consistía en cazar monstruos y matar las cosas que acechan en la noche para estudiar derecho en Stanford. Bueno, un pregrado de derecho. Nunca llegaste a hacer derecho. Tu hermano había arruinado esos planes cuando fue mordido por un vampiro y tu padre te sacó de la universidad para dar caza a tu hermano y cortarle la cabeza.

Pero esos años de pre-grado en California habían sido un sueño. Habías conocido a tu primer novio durante la primera semana como estudiante de primer año. Después, durante el siguiente semestre, conociste a Sam en una de tus clases. Estaba soltero entonces pero tú no estabas disponible. Para cuando descubriste tus sentimientos por él y rompiste con tu novio él ya había encontrado a Jess. Y era tan feliz que no tú no podías ser la rompehogares. Después Jess murió, Sam desapareció y tu padre apareció una semana después.

Esos sueños de universidad sólo servían para enseñarte que de verdad eras una cazadora. Podías fingir que tenías material para ser una abogada todo lo que quisieras, pero tu vida no estaba hecha para ser simple o tranquila. Así que continuaste cazando con tu padre.

Desde entonces te habías tropezado con Sam Winchester un par de veces. Y siempre habías tenido que levantarte pronto al día siguiente para reunirte con tu padre para una caza en otro estado. Así que sólo te habías podido tomar un par de copas con Sam antes de dar por terminada la noche. Otras veces era el que se tenía que ir. La conferencia o reunión de trabajo por la que se hallaba en la ciudad había acabado ya y tenía que coger un vuelo a primera hora el día siguiente.

Pero siempre parecíais encontrar la forma de juntaros de nuevo aunque fuera por un par de horas.

“Sam Winchester vivito y coleando,” dijiste anunciando tu presencia con una sonrisa. Se giró en el taburete con una amplia sonrisa en el rostro.

“¡T/N!” levantó su largo cuerpo del taburete y te retuvo entre sus brazos, apastándote contra su perfectamente musculado pecho.

Sonriendo con ligereza, le rodeaste con los brazos también, disfrutando de la forma en la que sus músculos se movían bajo tus brazos. Puede que fuera un hombre de negocios que se había desviado de su ruta, pero encajaba a la perfección aquí, en este típico bar de cazadores. “Han pasado un par de años, ¿Qué demonios estas haciendo en este viejo tugurio en Nebraska?”

“Qué estas tú haciendo en este viejo tugurio en Nebraska?” preguntó él con cautela.

Echaste un vistazo al Roadhouse y trataste de encajar las piezas del puzzle. Sabías que había una explicación muy sencilla, pero no querías creerla. Querías creer que Sam tenía una vida normal. Era la única forma que tenías de tener un pie metido en esa vida simple con el trabajo de nueve a cinco que solías imaginar cuando eras pequeña.

“¡Sammy!” un hombre con una mandíbula que podía cortar cristal se acercó. “Ellen nos ha encontrado un caso en florida. ¿Qué te parece? ¿Matar algunos monstruos, perdernos en la playa, perdernos en unas cuantas tías buenas en bikini en la playa?”

Sam dejó escapar un sonido entre suspiro y gruñido y se volvió hacia ti. “T/N, este es mi hermano Dean. Dean, mi amiga de Stanford.”

¿Un caso? ¿Matar monstruos?

“Dios mío, somos idiotas,” dijiste, haciendo que Dean levantara una ceja y Sam ladeara la cabeza. Sacudiendo la tuya rápidamente para aclararlo, estiraste la mano para estrechar la de Dean. “Lo siento. Quiero decir que me alegro de conocerte, Dean. Soy T/N y acabo de llegar de una caza en Arizona que acabó siendo un espíritu antiguo del Africa Central.”

Lentamente deslizaste la mirada de Dean a Sam, para encontrártelos mirándote con los ojos muy abiertos mientras terminaba de encajar las piezas del puzle en su mente. “Espera, me estas diciendo que—“

“¿Los dos hemos estado ocultándonos que somos cazadores durante años? Sí.”

“Así que cuando dijiste que tenías que ir a sacar a tu padre de una situación peliaguda hace tres años—“

“Un hombre-lobo. ¿Y tú no estabas de broma cuando dijiste que tenías que ir a encontrarte con el mismísimo diablo?”

Ante eso, Sam se rió. “En absoluto. Y cuando dije que tenia que ir corriendo a hacer un trato con un demonio o mi jefe me despediría…”

“Dios mío, soy una idiota. Ni siquiera estabas intentando ocultarlo.”

De nuevo se rió y aunque había pasado más de una década desde que empezaste a tener un cuelgue con él, aún sentías como tú corazón daba volteretas.

Cuando Dean sutilmente se excusó y Sam y tú os sentasteis para ponerlos al día de las versiones sin censura de vuestras vidas, no pudiste evitar que tu mente se hiciera preguntas. Sam y tú atrayéndoos y repeliéndoos como imanes. Juntos pero sin tocaros nunca. Separados pero siempre en tu mente. Y siempre había habido algo en medio, una fuerza invisible reteniéndote.

Pero ahora no había nada. Sólo vosotros dos. Los dos teníais confianza en quienes erais. Y mientras te enterabas de más cosas sobre él, podías ver tu propio pasado como un reflejo del suyo. Dudando si realmente cazar era una vida hecha para ti. Intentando hacer del mundo un lugar mejor trabajando como abogado. Tratando de dejarlo. Pero después descubriendo que realmente era ahí donde tenías que estar. Los héroes de los que nadie hablaba.

La sangre palpitaba por tus venas mientras reunías el valor necesario para decirle lo que querías decirle. Era ahora o nunca. El momento de darle una oportunidad.

“Entonces, Sam. Tengo una caza en Oregon. Le iba a pedir a Jo que me cubriera las espaldas, pero quizás… quizás te podías venir. Sería como en los viejos tiempos. Sesiones nocturnas estudiando en la biblioteca. Sólo que apostando más alto. Más sangriento.”

Echó un vistazo a su hermano durante un segundo, considerando las opciones. Después una suave sonrisa apareció en sus labios y supiste que habías ganado. “Cuándo nos vamos?” 

Spanish Tag: @starswirlblitz @cristinabl

[pertenebris-adastra]

Sweet Family Moments

Sitting down on your bed you looked down at the open locket on your bed. Inside there was a picture of your mom. You were 17 when she passed away and you missed her dearly. She had been a single mom and she worked so hard to make a life for you and her. She had died in a car crash ten years ago and your locket was the only piece of her you had left.

You had lost track of time whenever you heard your door open, looking up you smiled sadly as you saw Sam. You had met him a couple years after your mom passed and it was about as close to love at first sight as you believed in.

“Hey darlin’.” He said softly, coming to sit on the bed next to you. He wrapped his arms around you and gently pulled you into his lap. “You alright?” He asked softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

You sighed and melted into his chest. “I just miss her.” Your voice was quiet as you replied. “She would have liked you.” The thought of her meeting Sam brought a smile to your face.

“I would have loved her too.” Sam smiled, looking down at you. “I would love anyone who could raise a woman as great as you.” Your cheeks grew pink as you looked up at him.

“You’re gonna give me a cavity.” You giggled, causing Sam to laugh as well. “Was that your plan Winchester? Come in here and be so sweet that you distract me?”

Sam grinned and pressed his lips to yours. “Did it work?” He asked, giving you an adorable smile.

“Yeah, it did. Come on, let's go grab Emma and have a movie night, I wanna cuddle with our baby girl.” Sam nodded and stood up, helping you up as well.

“That sounds perfect.” He hummed as headed out to find your 4-year-old who was a spitting image of your mother.

Honeybees🐝: @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @our-jensen-ackles-love @mymysosa @lilousmustaches @queen-of-deans-booty @adoptdontshoppets @pie-with-hunters @hiraethclaire @bobbiebabewinchester @im-just-here-for-smut @tatertot1097 @familybusinesswritingbro @mlovesstories @blue-moon-writing @caswinchester2000