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impala-dreamer · 5 months

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Tourniquet - Chapter Four

A Supernatural Dean x Reader Series Told Backwards

~Y/N has been by Dean’s side through his worst days, always there if he needs her, forever just a call away. Love is impossible to fight and more impossible to live with. Just a side character in his epic life, Y/N would give anything just to give Dean a moment’s peace.~

Please see MASTERLIST for full info/warnings/chapter links.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

The Things She Carried

She hadn’t seen him in years.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. God, she wanted to so badly. She wanted to run into his arms, bury her face in his chest and fall asleep. She wanted to wake up next to him, count each freckle in the golden light of dawn. She wanted it all, she wanted him.

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t bring herself to track him down, drive across the miles and land at his doorstep. She couldn’t imagine facing him after so long away, couldn’t bear the thought that he’d cast her away like some old trinket destined for the bin.

She couldn’t risk it. She was road-weary and drained to the point of constant pain. Every muscle ached; every bone felt hollow and brittle. She was exhausted in her soul. She was done.

Late at night she would lie awake and stare at whatever ceiling was overhead replaying her life, her choices good and bad.

Maybe things would be different if she had run away with him when they were kids. Maybe she should have crossed the little stream sooner, hidden with him in the tall grass until they could escape and disappear forever. Would life be so different? Would they be together? Alive? Would the world still be turning if not for the sacrifices he’d made?

What about the sacrifices she’d made? What about all the days she spent alone, holding herself as blood seeped through her fingers? All the times she dropped everything to be there for him, all the days she spent worrying, all the nights she spent giving him whatever he needed whenever he needed it. Would anyone even remember her when she was gone? Would he?

Fuck him. He ruined one of the most important moments in her life. He stole her chance to say goodbye. While she reeled from his kiss, tried to make sense of his affection, the only other man she had ever loved had died.

He died and she wasn’t there. He died knowing she wasn’t around.

Fuck him for that. Fuck him for sleepless nights on the phone calming him down, listening to every trial and tribulation of his life. Fuck him for miles spent rushing to his side to wrap her heart around his wounds, staunch the flow.

Fuck him for every kiss.

Fuck him for every touch.

For every fucking moment.

The boy with the green eyes.

Roswell, New Mexico, 2015.

A string of murders of suspicious nature led older residents to announce that the aliens had returned to take revenge on the naysayers and folks there only to make a buck on the sacred landing spot.

Y/N hadn’t been able to resist such a ridiculous scene and spent a week there investigating.

In the end, they were just regular old murders committed by a regular old crazy person. No demons, no ghosts, and certainly no aliens were to be found.

With nowhere else to be, she hung around the desert for a few more days, enjoying the sun and the dry air.

She almost didn’t answer the phone when it rang, but curiosity had brought her to New Mexico in the first place, so there was no reason to deny its hold.

Luckily, it wasn’t him.

It was Sam.

“Well, if it isn’t baby boy Winchester.” She laid back on the hood of her car and kicked up a knee.

“Hey, Y/N.”

He sounded terrible. Lack of sleep or too much stress, she couldn’t tell. She didn’t know Sam as well. Hadn’t studied him as closely, hadn’t learned every tick of speech, the meaning behind every subtle sigh.

Still, he didn’t sound great.

“What’s going on, Sam?”

He hesitated, swallowed hard, shifted the phone to his other ear. “I hate to ask you, I know you’re… Well, you’ve got your own thing going on, but-”

Her eyes closed, her stomach churned.

“Is he OK?” She couldn’t stop the tremble in her voice and she hated it.

Sam cleared his throat. “No. No, I don’t think so.”

“Shit.”

Last she’d heard through the grapevine, Dean had died, again, and come back as a demon. She didn’t get a call back then, so for Sam to ask for help now- it was bad.

“I think he’d, uh… really like to see you.”

The eleven-hour drive seemed endless, but it gave her time to think.

No matter what she did, he would always be a part of her. No matter how far she ran, tried to hide, he would always win out in the end. It was useless to fight it, stupid to even try.

Sam had given her directions to their place and Y/N stood outside of what looked to be an industrial hobbit hole.

She leaned on her car and stared at the hill. There was still time to turn tail and hit the highway. He’d never even know she had been there.

She fiddled with the chain around her neck, sucked on the metal pendant. It was warmed from her body heat though she always believed it got hotter when he was close.

“Damn it, Y/N/N, just go in…” She groaned and turned away, too scared to go inside. Scared or mad, she didn’t know which.

Just as she put one foot in the car, the big doors opened and Sam appeared.

He was tall and tired, with a shadow on his jaw and worry in his eyes. She wondered vaguely if she had ever seen Sam without that crease in his aura, if he’d ever been truly calm and happy.

“You gonna come in or-”

She sighed and shut the door. “How’d you know I was here?”

He shrugged and gave her a mischievous look. “I may have been tracking your phone.”

“What! Sam…”

He smiled and then pushed at the door, holding it open for her.

“You coming?”

“Well, it’d be stupid to run away now.”

She followed him into the hobbit hole and through another, heavier door. The first room was basically a dark hallway, four steps down from the outer doors and a few paces to the next. The walls were old concrete and the light was dim. She held no hope for nicer things to come.

She was very wrong.

Her little gasp echoed when she walked through the second door. The cave-like entry gave way to an expansive room that took her breath away. A wrought iron balcony met intricate stairs that wound down forever. The room below was set up with a large, map-covered table that glowed, antique computers and machines that looked as if they were sourced from a 1950’s horror movie.

Clasping the rail, Y/N leaned over a bit, trying to comprehend the size of everything but her head hurt. She looked back at Sam and shook her head, eyes wide with awe.

“You live here?”

Sam nodded and shrugged. He smiled at her wild wonder and stood beside her at the railing. “There’s more. It’s, uh- it’s a really big place.”

“Tell me you have a bowling alley or an arcade hiding somewhere in here.”

He laughed. “No, but we do have a tv. Well, I do. In my room.”

Y/N whistled, mockingly impressed. “Wow. Real rockin’ bachelor pad, Sam.”

He licked his lips and looked down at his hands. His knuckles were pale, fingers cold against the metal. “Yeah, well, we don’t get many visitors.”

She covered his hand with hers and squeezed gently. “Wanna show me the rest?”

The Men of Letters Bunker was just as impressive as he made it sound. They toured the halls while Sam explained how they came to be there, speaking candidly about his grandfather’s reappearance and how strange it was to finally have a real place to call home.

She listened to every word, now and then offering a kind word or an interested hum. Her mind was reeling at the enormity of the Bunker. She ran her fingers over the dips between the tiles on the walls, listened carefully to how Sam’s voice echoed off of the cathedral ceilings and back again. She counted their steps, tried to construct a map in her mind so that she could find her way back to the front door, but the path was full of turns and every corridor looked the same as the last. The numbers on the doors changed, however, but they weren’t in any order that she could define.

They stopped in front of door number eleven, and Sam shoved his hands into his pockets. His gaze narrowed on the gap between the door and the jam. The light inside was on, but he knew Dean wasn’t there.

“This is his room?” she asked, wanting to push her way inside but afraid to pry.

Sam cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

She placed her hand on the door and closed her eyes. She wanted to go in and wait for him, be laid out on the bed like some porn star when he walked in, but she knew better.

The kitchen was impressive in an old restaurant that had never been upgraded kinda way, but the pantry was pitiful. Thankfully, there were a few eggs in the fridge and a half of a loaf of white bread on the shelf. Sam left her to it and she got to work making an utter mess of the counter and stove.

She didn’t expect him back soon and he hadn’t expected to see her at all.

“Y/N?”

Her entire being tensed when she heard his voice and she took a breath, closed her eyes, and turned around. Spatula dripping in her hand, she screwed up a smile.

“Surprise.”

Every emotion imaginable flowed over his freckled face and Y/N waited for him to process before saying another word. Green eyes worked her over, lingering on the smudge on her cheek and the mess on her shirt.

Finally, he smiled.

“Nice surprise.”

Her body relaxed. “Is it?”

“Of course.”

Dean rushed forward, rounding the giant stainless steel island, and scooped her up into a hug.

Relief trickled down her spine and she wrapped her arms around him, pushed her face into the crook of his neck. He smelled like whiskey and sleepless nights.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” He whispered into her shoulder and held on a little tighter.

He was big and strong, solid and safe. She melted into him; listened for the comforting, steady beat of his heart.

The necklace burned into her chest and she smiled.

After a minute, she pushed at his shoulders but he refused to let her go.

“You’re gonna make me burn your toast!”

He stood up straight and held her arms. “Toast? You’re making a real big mess for toast.”

She squirmed out of his grip and turned back to the stove. “It’s French.”

They sat at the little table in the corner and drowned the snack in maple syrup and butter.

Y/N couldn’t stop staring at him. His face was thin; his beard slowly sneaking out of captivity. His eyes were dark, lined with red, and he held himself differently, as if every second was painful, as if he was having trouble sitting still.

He was staring just as hard, shocked that she was there after being gone for so long.

“Your hair’s different,” he said around a mouthful of French toast.

She cocked her head and ran a hand through her locks. “I guess,” she laughed. “It’s been a while since I cut it. Probably should.”

Dean shook his head gently. “Nah. I like it.”

It wasn’t even really a compliment but she took it as one. Her stomach flipped and she hated herself for enjoying such a tiny amount of attention. She was older now, wiser, stronger. She didn’t need his approval or his affection.

“Thanks.”

“This is…nice. Thank you for cooking.”

Y/N laughed and choked down a corner. “It’s terrible and you know it.”

Dean shrugged and took another forkful to his lips. “It ain’t that bad.” He shoveled it in and then cringed, plucked a crunchy bit from his tongue. “I… think there’s shell in this one.”

She grinned. “I’m surprised there’s not more, actually. You know I’m a shitty cook.”

He laughed. “Always have been.”

“It’s kinda my thing.”

A strange moment passed between them like an autumn breeze. The air was warm but the wind was too harsh, chilling their cheeks. Y/N looked away, crossing her arms and rubbing her hands up the sides. Dean swallowed and sat back; knife and fork in his fists beside the plate.

“So, how ya been?”

Y/N looked around, pretending to inspect the kitchen walls, but only trying to buy herself time to think up an answer.

“Oh, you know me, Dean. Another day, another highway, another monster to kill.”

He licked a drop of syrup from his lip. “Musta been busy.”

She nodded. “Yeah, pretty busy.”

“Too busy to answer a text? Pick up the phone now and then?”

Her guts churned. “Dean, it’s not like that…”

He slumped forward, set his forearms on the table. “Oh, it’s like that. You vanished, Y/N/N.”

His tone was biting and she shivered.

“Dean-”

“You just took off. No goodbye, nothing.”

Anger was brewing inside and her leg bounced uncontrollably under the table. “Dean.”

“We burned him. Without you.”

Something inside of her shattered. The words cut through her like a scythe; his tone burned like salt in the sliced flesh. She clenched her jaw, closed her eyes, and tried to push it all aside.

“You left,” he seethed, upper lip trembling and exposing his tiny canine teeth. She always thought they looked like fangs, always loved the way they scraped across her throat. “We burned him and you weren’t there. I- we needed you and you left. You ran away to God knows where and that was it. We needed you, Y/N. I… I needed you.”

With fists balled, she stood up, spun away from the table. She bit her tongue so hard she was sure her mouth would fill with blood.

Dean laughed sarcastically. “Yeah. Walk away again. That’s awesome.”

Her spine twitched. Nails dug into her palms.

She tasted blood.

“So fucking good at walking away when people need you.”

She snapped.

“Excuse me?”

Her spin around was so fast, her hands slammed onto the table so hard that Dean startled and dropped his utensils. Unconsciously, he sat back, putting as much distance between him and the lioness he’d just unleashed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Her words curled but there was no question. She was giving him a speck of a chance to apologize before she truly exploded. “Well… are you?”

Dean sucked his teeth, crossed his arms, sat forward. He met her gaze head on. His nostrils flared.

“You left,” he said again, slowly, venomously.

Y/N pulled in a deep breath but instead of calming her, it only added to the fire. “You didn’t ask me to stay, Dean.”

He shook his head, confused. “Huh?”

“You didn’t ask me to stay, Dean,” she said again, injecting as much slashing accusation into her voice as she could. “You never do. You expect me to show up whenever you want me, drop whatever I’m doing to come meet you somewhere so you can fuck your frustrations out on me then kick me out of bed in the morning. Do you know how many bruises I have from tripping over the curb when you drive away? How many nights I’ve stayed awake worrying about you? Praying for you? Not to mention all the nights I had to stay on the phone with you while you blubbered on about this and that, and your brother, and your angel, and your destiny. Do you know how much of my life I’ve spent waiting on a fucking phone call from you? How many days I’ve wasted just hoping you’d ask to see me? You can’t imagine it. You wouldn’t. Because you don’t care.”

Anger and guilt flooded his face. He swung his legs around from under the table and stood up, towering over her with a puffed chest and searing eyes.

“You think I don’t care about you?” He hunched his shoulders, leaning down to let it all sink in. “Is that really what you think?”

She took a step closer. She wouldn’t back down no matter his size or the angry fire pulsing off of him. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Yeah, Dean,” she said sharply. “It is. Because it’s fucking true. You don’t give a shit about me, you never have. I’m just a goddamned Band-Aid for you. Something you put on when you’ve got a booboo and then rip off and toss away. And the one time I needed you. The one fucking time…”

Dean was seeing red; his blood was boiling and brightening his pallid face.

“When? When the fuck did you need me so badly!”

She grit her teeth, showed her fangs for once. “He was my father, Dean.”

He scoffed. “No. He wasn’t.”

“Fuck you for saying that! He was my father the same as, if not more so than he was yours and he died while I was in the dark wondering how I could help you. You! You fucked me up in that hospital room and then you left me alone to deal with it. And he died while I was in there! He died and I wasn’t there because I was dealing with you!”

Dean straightened, but he didn’t move to speak. He only absorbed her ire and let it burn inside of him.

“Always dealing with you! My whole goddamned life revolves around Dean Winchester! And you know what I got for all the care and time and worry I poured into you? Nothing. I get fucking nothing. I have never been so lost as when he died and you… You didn’t ask me to stay. Didn’t… didn’t check on me. The only calls I got were from you begging me to help with Sam and to meet you in Oswego for a fucking booty call. That’s all I am to you. I’m your fucking whore.”

He huffed, chewed his lip. “That is not true!”

She wouldn’t stop, couldn’t. The simple act of raising her voice, of confronting him after everything had opened a tap that she couldn’t close.

“And you spent a whole goddamned fucking year with her. A year! I didn’t even know if you were alive, dead, nothing. You promised to call me. You swore. And nothing. You went to her. You- did you even think of me? Did you even think, ‘oh, maybe I’ll go be with Y/N for a while’? Well? Did you?”

His eyes closed. “No, Y/N. I didn’t.”

“I have given you years of my life and you’ve just… Fuck, I don’t even know if you take me for granted or if you don’t even notice if I’m around or not. I honestly don’t know.”

She turned away, exhausted and aching.

She couldn’t see the way he rubbed at the curse on his arm, didn’t notice the rage glowing in his eyes. She didn’t feel the danger because she never felt it around him. She could scream all she wanted, but she knew Dean wouldn’t hurt her.

“If you hate me so goddamn much, why are you even here? Huh? What, did Sammy call you? Tell you I wasn’t doin’ so well?”

Each word snapped at her like kitchen shears and Y/N spun back around.

“Fuck you, Dean.”

As tears fell, she raised her right hand, ready to slap him hard; show him she wasn’t fooling around.

The Mark swelled on his arm and shot demonic power into his veins.

Dean grabbed her wrist before she made contact with his cheek and took two steps forward, forcing her backwards into the wall. He slammed her hand onto the plaster and followed suit with her left hand. She gasped, scared but daring him, and he sneered down at her.

“Don’t. Fucking. Ever. Hit me.”

The Mark glowed beside her head and she looked from it to him, stuck and devastated.

“Do you hear me!”

Strength pulsed through him and Dean lifted her away from the wall only to crush her back into it.

Her eyes blurred, her head ached; her ears rang.

“Dean-”

“You think you know anything about me? You don’t know what I’ve been through! You haven’t been around!”

His grip tightened on her wrists and she felt the bone in the right twist.

“Dean! You’re hurting me!”

It seemed he couldn’t stop, wouldn’t let the anger dim. His breath came out in heavy pants through tight lips and clenched teeth; his eyes were like lasers targeting her arteries and setting him up for the kill.

“Dean!”

Another tear trekked down her cheek and it caught his attention.

Dean blinked quickly, clearing his head, and then backed away. He dropped her hands and covered his face, turned his back on her.

Y/N couldn’t move.

Silence filled the room and their heads. Guilt ravaged their bodies.

Her knees gave out and she slid down the wall, slumped to the floor.

When she could finally speak, her voice was small and pathetic and she hated herself even more.

“I… I’m sorry, Dean.”

Calmer now, Dean turned to find her in a heap on the floor and sank down as well. “Don’t be sorry, Y/N/N. I… fuck. Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head and sat up straight, kicked her knees up to her chest.

He crawled to her, tried to lay a hand on her knee, but she flinched away.

“Shit,” he hissed. “I’m so sorry.”

Y/N let out a hard breath and let her shoulders fall. She trusted him. She didn’t trust that thing on his arm.

She nodded toward it. “Is it really bad?”

He rolled up his sleeve and showed off his brand. Curious and horrified, she unfurled herself and leaned in, running a careful finger across the Mark. The flesh was hot, the skin raised and rough. She covered it with her hand and looked up into his face.

“I can’t take it much more,” he whispered. “It’s gonna take over and I don’t wanna go back there.”

Her heart hurt. “You don’t have to let it take you. You’re strong. You’re so fucking strong, Dean. So brave. So good.”

He smiled softly and bent over; kissed her hand.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

She sniffed back the tears and reached for him.

“I coulda just kept my mouth shut,” she confessed.

Dean lay his head on her shoulder and tugged her close. “No. You shouldn’t have to. I’ll be better, I promise.”

“You don’t have to be better, Dean.” She turned inwards and pressed her lips to his ear. “You just have to be you.”

His arms closed a little tighter, he breathed a little slower.

“I really don’t deserve you, you know that?”

She sighed and rubbed at the nape of his neck.

“Shut up, Dean.”

Tourniquet Tags:

@prettyinplaid94 @winharry @muhahaha303 @cookiechipdough @ladysparkles78

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @the-wounded-healer05

#spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean/reader #dean/you #angst #series #tourniquet

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amaranthhiding · 2 years

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Samwena in 10x19 The Werther Project

This scene from 10x19 The Werther Project is a classic for obvious reasons, but it has taken me until today to think more deeply about this.

Sam doesn‘t go, “Can you do the spell for me?” or “What’s the Cabirian Invocation?” No, all he says about the topic is, “Great, thanks.” This absolute nerd either already knows the Cabirian Invocation or is at least entirely confident that he knows exactly where to look it up and that he will be able to cast it on his own.

That is the moment when Rowena is suddenly far more affected by this call than before.

Obviously, she thinks it’s hot as hell that Sam can do magic, too, but there’s more to this. She has been expelled from the Coven. Earlier in this season, in 10x07 Girls, Girls, Girls, Rowena was shown trying to recruit those girls as students, with... very limited success.

It’s painfully obvious this is so not going to work, neither for the girls, nor for Rowena.

But hilariously, this scene is not the first time Latin is mentioned in this same episode. No, the first time was this little gem here:

It was even made clear that while the translation for the spell’s name was on the website, Sam looked up thoughtfully and just casually translated it on his own in his head.

I must have been blind never to notice the purposeful contrast between Sam and the girls before, but I seriously never paid attention to this detail until today. And that even though I’m a linguist. Pff.

(And yes, I do believe this contrast is completely intentional. Both 10x07 Girls, Girls, Girls and 10x19 The Werther Project are Berens episodes, and he does give loving attention to detail and parallels.)

Even though she probably wouldn’t admit it, Rowena craves the companionship of joint spellcasting. She’s been lonely ever since she has been expelled from the Grand Coven. She craves a kindred spirit she can nerd out with.

Enter the dude who calls her just to chat about a spell, and who can match her own intelligence and thirst for knowledge.

Sam’s initial reaction to this proposal kind of gets me, lol.

He’s a very intuitive guy with finely tuned senses. He absolutely heard how sultry her voice had become.

He declines (much to his own disadvantage, as the episode later shows. Things would have gone so much better for Sam had he taken Rowena’s offer!)

But, er... what is his face doing? This weird little smile that flares up for just a second, half tormented and half... something else, before he goes back to a far more neutral expression again.

Know what this reminds me of? This moment from 4x09 I Know What You Did Last Summer where Ruby is trying to seduce Sam while he’s desperately trying (and failing) to resist.

And here’s a casual reminder that Ruby, too, was a witch.

Even these profile shots are mirrored (and I can’t for the life of me tell if this mirror was done on purpose, or if it was a coincidence. If this was done intentionally... man.)

The positions of Sam with Ruby and Sam with Rowena are inverted, though, and I love that considering the fact that Sam’s involvement with Ruby and the demon blood and freeing Lucifer are some of his biggest regrets, and even his deepest hurt because it’s what makes him feel tainted and unworthy.

(That heavy swallow Sam does as Rowena says “dark magic” never fails to get me.)

So of course he’s trying absolutely everything and anything to keep himself from going dark side ever again. Little does he know at the time that this connection doesn’t end with him going dark side. It ends with Rowena joining the good guys! She’s his big success. She’s the deeply needed validation for his willingness to see the world in more than black and white. She’s the cure to that deepest hurt and his feeling of unworthiness.

But, erm, back to 10x19 The Werther Project and a timeline where none of that has happened so far:

Suddenly those sexually charged Rowena hallucinations he has later in this episode are making even more sense to me than they ever have before... as does the fact that he declined Rowena’s help when having a seasoned witch around who offered her help freely sure would have seemed like the more sensible choice here.

That he hallucinated her calling him “Sammy” when that’s something he always got mad about when it was done by anyone other than Dean is... certainly something.

I very much read the “It’s opening” not only in reference to the Werther’s Box, but also as Sam’s desire that’s woken up in full here.

And I don’t even mean that in an exclusively physical way, it’s also his desire for magic and knowledge and a kindred spirit and connection and being seen and appreciated for who he is and what he can offer, much like what Rowena herself craves after a life filled with rejection and never fitting in.

Yep. He is so gone on her.

And yes, I also see “it” very much as a placeholder for both of them.

Not even to mention the fact that he 100% trusted whatever this hallucination was telling him, no matter what.

Even if it was to make a blood sacrifice of himself.

To bring this full circle, let’s not forget that he also hallucinated Rowena being impressed by and appreciative of his knowledge of Latin, which... is so painfully ironic with regard to the beginning of this post, I want to bang my head against the desk.

Sam, buddy... you realize you didn’t have to make this shit up, right? You could have had the real one. She wanted exactly the same things you did. She actually appreciated your knowledge of Latin. You both could have been your sapiophile selves around each other all day long to your hearts’ delight.

No? Okay then.

To silence the box, slake its thirst... I mean, seriously. Come on.

And yes, I absolutely see the box as a metaphor for Sam’s deepest wishes. Which takes Rowena’s fondling of the inscription to a whole new level.

Then there’s also the little fact that this is what Benny said to Dean in Dean’s hallucination of Purgatory that was happening at the same time:

And guess what?

Dean woke up on his own.

Guess who didn’t?

Sam didn’t.

Dean actually slapped him, and Sam attacked Dean with a knife for trying to break him out of the illusion.

And even through all of this, even after Dean bandaged Sam’s bleeding wound and began to sacrifice his own blood instead, the Rowena illusion still persisted until the box was opened.

Oh well, indeed. And when Sam next met the real Rowena at the end of the episode, he put her in shackles in a desperate attempt to keep control this time around. Because he had already gotten dangerously close to losing all restraint, just like with Ruby.

I... rest my case.

(Who am I kidding? I’ll never rest my case.)

(Can’t believe they went so far as to even have a similar background in both 10x19 and 15x03 when Sam and Rowena were holding hands like this. Both scenes feature dark gray stone walls with rays of light falling in through a curved window. And Rowena is wearing an iron chain around her wrist in 15x03 to ward off the ghosts when everyone else was wearing the iron chain around their neck. Was this sheer coincidence or done on purpose up to the smallest detail? I feel like I’m losing my mind here. Again all of these are Berens episodes.)

On a side note, when I used the Werther’s Box inscription repeatedly in my Samwena video, I also very much had that metaphor in mind and saw it as them growing closer and closer. In case you haven’t seen the video yet:

https://youtu.be/H0BJ-94EukE

#samwena #samwitch #sam x rowena #sam and rowena #rowena and sam #rowena #sam winchester #rowena macleod #supernatural #spn #10x19 #the werther project #amaranthmeta

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cascodeddeangirlie · 6 months

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No because what if Destiel was canon when Cas met Cain in that graveyard…

I used the actual script so 99% of the dialogue is not original! Also sorry if the formatting is weird, it’s my first time posting and I’m on mobile.

“It's Cas.” Dean put his phone on speaker. He hadn’t heard Cas’s voice for a good while, but as much as he’d like to keep it for himself, they were looking for Cain. He couldn’t afford to be selfish right now. “Hey, where you at?”

“Illinois.” It was good to hear his voice again. Especially after he hadn’t been picking up his calls earlier.

“Hey, Cas, we got a lead. Cain abducted a Texas death row inmate named Tommy Tolliver.” Sam said, sounding like he barely believed what he was saying. It sounded a little ridiculous, but that was normal for them. This seemed normal. Almost like they were working a case again.

But Sam and Dean weren’t with Cas. They couldn’t see him crouching in the woods, holding a white sneaker that had ‘TDJC’ written on the bottom. When Cas spoke again, it’s nothing close to what they wanted to hear. “He's dead.”

“What? How do you know?” Sam asked, staring at the phone. Dean was worried now, his concern clear on his face.

“Call it an educated guess. Cain has been very busy.” Castiel stood, looking around. The woods where he had been were never really woods at all, just woods surrounding a clearing. A clearing full of freshly dug graves.

Dean’s fear was clear through his voice. “Okay, where are you? We'll come to you.”

Cas felt someone watching him through the trees. He looked around, unsure where it was coming from. “I'll call you back.”

Dean sighed, exasperated, and put his phone in his pocket. With Cas leaving as unexpectedly as usual, he must be okay.

Meanwhile, Cas turned around to find Cain staring at him.

“Hello, Castiel.” Cain seemed unfazed, despite being surrounded by death that he caused. Perhaps it’s natural for the father of murder.

“What have you done?” The angel is appalled, angry.

“These bodies? Just cleaning up a mess I made a long time ago.” He still sounded relaxed. Maybe there was a tinge of regret in his voice, but it was too faint to tell.

“Cain, I know what you were. But you'd resisted for so long.” He was desperate and it showed. He wanted Cain to say something to redeem this, to say he would stop, that he could stop.

“What can I say? I got the taste back.” Cain isn’t moved at all by Cas’s attempt at reconciling him. “With Abaddon's army gunning for me, I had to take up arms again, and I liked how it felt.” As he spoke, he walked closer to Castiel.

“Those were demons. These-” Cas looked around once again. The graves were appalling. The deaths were an abomination. It never should have happened.

Cain crouched down and lifted up a teddy bear. It was muddy and torn apart, and Castiel just knew that it was a small child’s favorite toy. A now deceased child.

“Humans.” Cain breathed out, staring at the bear. “Eh, the Mark thirsts for all kinds.” He lowers the bear and looks away from it.

“This is a massacre.” Castiel’s voice was filled with anger. So many dead. Children, fathers, mothers, siblings, entire families destroyed because they happened to be descended from a killer.

“Yes.” Cain looks up at Cas. He sounds almost dreamy. “And soon it'll be a genocide.” He stood, tossing the bear aside. “My children, my whole poisoned issue. A lot of them out there right now... killers, fighters, thieves, some more peaceful than others. But they still carry it... the disease. If the Mark wants blood, I'll give it mine.” He walked closer, stepping between graves. He seemed peaceful, as though he were simply accepting this as something that had to happen, that he needed to do.

“You'll kill them all? You are Adam and Eve's firstborn. Your descendants are legion.” Cas walks closer to Cain.

“At most, I'm culling... 1 in 10.” Cain said this in a way that attempted to justify what he was doing. To say that maybe it was acceptable.

He earned himself a glare from Cas. “Of everyone.”

“I’ve got time.” Cas’s glare hardened. Cain continued like he couldn’t see it. “How's Dean, by the way? I hear he did good, took Abaddon down.”

Cas looked away, losing his glare. Cain’s expression finally dropped a little.

“He's…not well.” Cain said, realizing. He knew. Cain knew that look. It’s the look his Colette wore. It’s the look of someone slowly losing their lover.

Castiel’s gaze flickered back up to Cain. “Even with the First Blade hidden, Dean is losing his fight against the Mark. If we don't find a cure…He’ll start and never stop.” His eyes wander around the graveyard again. Knowing that one day, he could be standing in another graveyard, but next time it will not be created by someone evil, not by an entity that they are stopping, but Dean. His Dean. His charge, his human, his love. The one he risked everything for. The one he rescued from Hell and reconstructed, saw every single part of his being and soul, and fell for. There was no one else like him and there never will be. Castiel already knew that one day he could lose Dean, maybe in a hunting accident, maybe to old age, something mortal, but not like this. Watching him lose himself was worse. Watching everything that made him fall in love fade was worse. Watching the soul that he sewed back together tear itself apart was so, so much worse. This, the mark, is the worst thing that could have ever happened. “He just needs to stop. I need him to stop.”

Cain saw it. He saw that he had created another one of himself, that he was destroying someone else in love the way he had destroyed Colette. Those eyes, full of fear, sadness, anger, are the same ones he saw when he looked at her. He had destroyed her from the inside out, and now he was making Dean do the same to his angel.

But it was too late.

“There is no cure. I'm living proof of that. But don't worry about Dean. I'll get to him. In due time.” Cain couldn’t apologize, not now. He knew this would happen. He had tried to warn Dean of the consequences. The final thing he knew, the most concrete thing to him, was that there was nothing he could say or do at this point to save this angel from his Colette’s fate, his new fate.

Castiel’s moment of vulnerability with this murderer passed. His angel blade dropped from his sleeve into his hand.

“Sorry Castiel.” Cain’s gaze softened, if only for a second. He had so much more in that apology than Castiel might have realized. “I’m sorry that you have to lose him like this. I’m sorry that I’m going to kill him. I’m sorry that the Mark is taking him apart. I’m sorry…I’m sorry, Colette.”

“You’re not on my list.” Cain said, then disappeared. Castiel was alone. And as he looked around the graveyard, he knew. He knew this could be his future, that Dean could end up leaving him the same way Cain just did, cold and uncaring and only focused on killing.

And he knew he would never be able to stop him.

Thanks for reading :3 apologies if it was ooc at all

#superntural #supernatural #destiel #castiel #dean winchester #deancas #mark of cain #cain spn #supernatural castiel #sam winchester #angst #supernatural angst #destiel angst

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blacknidstang · 6 months

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I started writing this on the screencap post but realized this might be unpleasant and i didn't wanna bother the op witb prostitute sam rambling

But anyways, seeing @wastemanjohn's tags on that post i had to write this now

Much earlier today, before this post even, i was randomly thinking about how Dean wouldn't let Sam be the sexual bait or do sexual favors, anything of that sort, because obviously to protect him, but Sam, having his typical twisted self esteem and always thinking Dean just doesn't believe he is caplable enough, would always turn it into "oh so you think I wouldn't be good? That i couldn't pull it off??"

So this would be the first thing he did when he ran away. Or maybe even doing it secretly before Stanford. Ofc in college it would help a whole fucking lot financially but i think this was like a demon blood thing too, some desperation to prove to Dean that he isn't incapable and useless, that be CAN do it too, no longer a little kid who would mess things up without Dean, while at the same time knowing he cannot show Dean how good he is at it bc that would wreck him. Part of him does know Dean just wanted o protect him out of love and not out of condescension but he needs to prove something to himself. Whatever that is.

Plus to me Sam has equally messy relationship with sex, it's either wild and explosive after some initial resistence, or he's not having sex for 2 fucking years without being bothered. This boy got something sex related going on is all I'm saying. Anyway, thank you for listening to my essay on how Sam, indeed, could very much have experienced sex work

#spn #sam winchester #teen sammy buying all little things for himself with that money and lie to john and dean that he stole them #and then he lies some more about bite marks and little bruises #he completely bullshits about hookups and dean laughs and messed with him and sam be half dying from guilt half happy abt his little secret

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antigonewinchester · 27 days

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🔥 jack

I quite enjoy him as a character and dislike the majority of fandom discourse around him.

Jack is clearly favored by the writers & story in his seasons: he’s given the sympathetic cute white guy treatment in casting AlCal, he’s an entirely new character who becomes arguably the 3rd lead, he a part of major plots and has narrative focus**. given all that, I can very much see why some ppl dislike him, his role in the story, etc. hate away! but the other side of it, fandom’s woobification of him, making him literally a child, or downplaying his choices / agency / incredibly strong powers, is also incredibly boring. despite his narrative focus there’s room for a lot more fandom explorations of Jack.

Jack’s ending of becoming God was foreshadowed from S13 and I think the writers had something like it in mind from early on.

Kelly's death & sacrificing her life so Jack could live influenced him from Day 1 and Jack was going to have major guilt issues and feel like he had to do good / live a good life even if he hadn't been raised by Sam, Dean, Cas. some of Jack's issues are all his own.

S14 is by far the best Jack season and the tragedy of it doesn’t work unless Jack is actively making choices and has agency within his story—choosing to sacrifice his soul to save his family, choosing not to tell Sam & Dean (or Cas) about almost killing Stacy, choosing to brutally kill Nick, etc. 14x16 – 14x20 from Jack’s perspective is excruciating and that’s what makes it so good! put that guy through the horrors!! as messed up as 14x20 is, the fandom framing of Evil Abusive Dean going to kill Poor Sweet Jack misses 1) the deliberate narrative reversal of the beginning of the season w/ Jack saying they'd have to kill Michael!Dean to protect the world, and the season climax in Dean believing he has to kill Jack [and himself] to protect the world, What Could It Mean, and 2) Jack actively choosing mercy instead of fighting. Jack could’ve run or easily incapacitated / killed Dean with his powers but decides he'd rather die than risk hurting or killing someone else. which is a fucked up but compelling & interesting character choice!

speaking of 14x20, I’m surprised I’ve never seen a comparison between 4x20/4x21 and 14x19/14x20. [there’s… a very cynical meta-through-line I’ve thought about here, but I’m not sure if I’m reading too much into it.]

reveal of Sam drinking demon blood & his ‘monstrousness’ > Dean & Bobby lock Sam in the panic room > Sam breaks out thru angelic power > Dean goes to confront Sam

reveal of Jack killing Mary and his soullessness > Dean & Sam lock Jack in Ma’lak box > Jack breaks out using his angelic powers > Dean goes to confront Jack

**Dabb & his writers wanted to keep exploring generational traumas & familial cycles and brought in Jack to continue that thread as Sam & Dean had mostly worked thru their issues, but there’s a feel of warped or forced character development to make it all fit—say, Dean as Jack’s “cool uncle” is arguably more realistic given Dean’s understandable distrust of Jack and resistance to parenting him from early S13, but the writers wanted to explore the conflict of Dean as Jack’s father figure and so that’s what the dynamic had to become. so it's less that the characters are OOC but the way the writers approach it & the narrative framing of it all that's overly simplistic.

Send me a “ 🔥 ” for an unpopular opinion.

#asks #jack #thank you for the ask <3

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almostcolorfulcolor · 10 months

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Death Note, meet Supernatural- CHAPTER 8

Relationships: L (Death Note)/Reader, L (Death Note)/Original Female Character(s)

Summary: What if Death Note existed in a world with Winchesters in it? Would L finally have the evidence he needs to prove Light is Kira? How will L fare in a world where monsters are real and not every case is solvable by him? Lucky for him, there's a hunter here to work side-by-side with him.

A/N: Um...hey! Sooooooooooooo sorry for being so late. Since the last time I uploaded, somebody hacked my work email and I've been swamped with work. But as an apology, enjoy a special feature and a 3400+ words chapter! Hurray!

Chapter Summary: A trip down memory lane...or should I say a haunting? Surprise visitor in this one!

CHAPTER 7

Chapter 8: The Boy with the Demon Blood

The warmth on my face feels too nice with the breeze coming in from the sea. With every passing moment, a thought leaves my mind- decimating my todo one task at a time. When the panic attacks came and there was no one and nothing to help me, distract me- I took it upon myself to silence my mind forcefully. Close my eyes and will my muscles unlock. Banish every thought as soon as it came. Lose awareness of the weight on my shoulders and the pain in my chest. Between my stubbornness to make this work and the tiredness in my body, it became…possible after a while. After the shitty month we’d been having, this detour feels surreal. There is a pit forming in my stomach because surely, something is about to go wrong. Peace is not easily found, not for people like us. How things can get worse than they currently are, I am not certain. But they will.

One thing in particular. Ruby.

The demon who’s convincing my friend to drink demon blood to enhance his psychic abilities to kill the mother of demons, Lilith, and rescue his brother from Hell where he was dragged by hellhounds a little over a month ago.

Definitely wrong. I’d been doing everything to stop that from happening but I wasn’t sure how long I could make him see sense. Sam loved Dean, and the fact that Dean had gone to hell because he made a demon deal to bring back Sam from the dead was definitely increasing the guilt factor. Wrong is wrong though, and drinking demon blood is a solid no-no. Even Dean would agree with that. Not that I thought much about what Dean would agree with, or about him in general. My sanity was hanging by a thread, and any prolonged thought on Dean would make me completely lose it. I want him here, beside me, drinking beer and chasing after skirts. And I will make that happen. But not by losing Sam in the process.

A beer is placed in front of me. Silently accepting it, I bring it to my mouth. Now, there’s warmth beside me too. A very comforting warmth, one I’d recognize in my sleep, one that I never want to go away, one I crave too much. I’m not relaxed now. I’m using every ounce of strength I have to stay as I am and not lean into him. Those arms that have helped me for nights while I cried, those that look so strong, and inviting, are calling my name. But I resist. Comfort is something he doesn’t want now.

He only wants Dean.

I want him.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The red liquid in a bottle isn’t wine.

She finally convinced him.

I drop the groceries, sprinting, knocking the bottle from his hands. The walls are painted red.

My vision blurs as a sharp pain registers in my skull. “What the fuck, you bitch? That was my blood”, snarls Ruby as she presses me against the motel wall.

“Hands off, Ruby. Now.”

Good, atleast he cares this much.

Dropping me and whirling on him, she starts shouting. “I’m not your minion, Sam. I’ve been tailing you for months to convince you to use your powers for good and she is constantly against me. Get her in line. I won’t keep coming here to get insulted. You don’t need her. You come with me now and we can start with your training. Lilith isn’t going to kill herself.”

Sam’s expression is easier to read in his distress. He doesn’t want to leave me like this but he is set on getting revenge, getting Dean back. If he leaves now, my chances of getting him back are next to zero.

Getting onto my feet shakily, I make my way to Sam. The time for caution is gone. Stretching on tip-toes, I cup his face and bring it closer to mine. Sam’s shaky inhale gives me hope.

“Sam, look at me. Can you see what you mean to me? How much I care for you? Can you remember how much I care for Dean? I love him, and I want him back. But I also love you, and I don’t want to lose you. Please, Sam. This is demon blood. What if something happens to you? What if after drinking enough demon blood you turn into one too? It scares me, Sam. I’m so, so scared.”

My eyes close at this point, tears leaking out. I hold his face tighter, wanting to feel him after staying away for so long.

“Sam, please. We’ll start slow. We’ll develop your psychic abilities without the blood. It’s safer, right? And possible too. Please say yes, Sam. Stay with me. Dean is gone now, and until we get him back, we only have each other. Please be with me, Sam. Look at me. I need you, Sam. So much. Hold me, Sam. ”

He isn’t moving. My hands leave his face to find his hands. I place them on my waist and cup his neck. Stroke his chin. Touch his forehead to mine. “This isn’t bad, Sam, right? Please stay with me. I’m begging you.”

Cicadas are buzzing, curtains ruffling. Somewhere near, a dog barks. My heart gives a jolt.

Finally, he gives a jerky nod. Finally, I sob heaving in relief. Finally, the bitch leaves.

That’s the first night we sleep in each other’s arms.

Morning comes, and we’re both still holding onto one another.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The days after that are filled with hunting demons and Sam trying to kill them with his psychic abilities. Few he manages, rest we exorcise after interrogating about Lilith's whereabouts. Every demon that proves useless makes Sam resent me more. Those are the nights he sleeps in his bed turned away from me. We still don’t talk. Barely perfunctory words are spoken, nods given, grocery lists written. I’ve taken to calling Bobby every time I’m alone, which is often. Sam needs his space and every second he’s out of my sight, I imagine Ruby cornering him again and Sam accepting her help. Bobby shares my fear but there’s not much he can do as Sam refuses to see him or any other hunter. The cases we stumble on, he ignores. I note them and ask Bobby to get some hunter on it, wishing I was on it. The thrill of the hunt would make me feel better. It’d feel wrong, without Dean. But those brief moments where nothing matters except you and the kill- I want that oblivion. The only time I get it now is in Sam’s arms at nights his highness does deign to grace my bed. Settled between his arms and chest, the world feels liveable. Like I didn’t see my best friend ripped to shreds and dragged to hell in front of me. Like there’s still warmth in the world. Like I can relax and close my eyes.

Sometimes, my growing feelings for him worry me. Because my feelings are mostly of love and worry while his eyes show nothing when he looks at me. It’s like he’s only doing this because I begged him to hold me. A duty he has to perform because someone who’s hurting asked him of it. These thoughts always make me feel guilty, and make me want to tell him to stop, lie that I don’t need it. But I never say this because what if my need is the only thing keeping him here and away from Ruby?

While trying to save Dean, I knew my biggest job would be to get him back once he got taken. I never thought it would be to save Sam from getting himself taken as well.

He shuts the TV off. In 3 steps, he’s on my bed. Lights are turned off, and I’m tugged down.

He’s spooning me today.

I allow myself a brief smile and pull his arm tighter around me.

Don’t let go, Sam .

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sipping my glass of sake, which was the only thing I could identify and pronounce in this bar, I glance around from my darkened corner at the other patrons of “Kariudo no Tsuki”, also called Hunter’s Moon. It must be popular cause I scored a ride on the app. A taxi would’ve been cheaper but my Japanese isn’t that good and I didn’t want to get lost. Currently, it’s 6 PM and people are starting to come in. I imagined it’d be like back home- mostly a hunter break stop but suits and lovebirds are also coming in. The interior looks rough but in a classy way. There is no one I can walk up to and just start talking. The hunter who gave me this address showed me a picture of a guy called Haru. He was short with a shorter mustache that reminded me of Hitler. Haru knew anything that happened here, but when I asked the bartender about him (thanks to Google translate), he just shot me a blank stare with “Haru no here”.

45 minutes later of people watching, my suspect walked in, headed straight to me and plopped down on the seat next to me after giving the bartender a meaningful look. There goes his 18%. He said nothing, just stared at me. People have been staring a lot here in Japan. Dean would stare back even longer, refusing to give in but I’m tired of this shit and want to get some work done. Plastering on my best smile, I start in English, “Mr. Haru, pleased to meet you. This is Anne. Could we please talk?” Seeing his nod, I’m inwardly relieved. Thank God he atleast understands English.

“You can guess what I do and why I’m here, correct?”

A nod.

“So can you please let me know your thoughts on how is Kira doing this murder? What have you found so far?”

Nothing this time.

I feel a headache coming.

“Mr. Haru, I understand you’re a hunter. I know you understand me. I need answers. There are mass murders happening and it’s our responsibility to stop them. Can you be of assistance?”

Nada.

My fingers tighten on the now-empty glass. I look away and count to ten. What a dick.

When I turn to him again, he’s gesturing to a girl. She comes and stands next to him and then he gestures to me.

Looking at me, she flinches a bit and I rearrange my expression into something softer bringing a tentative smile on her face.

“I’m Umi. What can I do for you?”, her sweet voice fills my ears.

Thank fucking God.

“Are you a hunter?”

She’s taken aback at this blunt question and stammers out a response. “N-no, I’m still being trained. But I know things.”

“Good. Please tell me your theories about the Kira case. Now please.”

“Well, there isn’t anything to tell. He’s been sent by God.”

Huh?

“Could you repeat that sweetheart?”

Umi’s answer is full of admiration. “Kira is only killing criminals, and he has decreased the crime rate dramatically. People feel safer with him. We believe God has sent him to deliver his divine justice. ”

Psycho alert.

“Kira is killing people, wielding a supernatural power we haven’t heard of before and you’re not concerned? What kind of hunters are you?”

Umi is quick to correct me. Me . “Not people, just criminals. And we haven’t heard of it before because that power belongs to God and we do not hunt God.”

God. of Death. Shinigami?

“So you know which God is doing it?”, wanting her to confirm my suspicions.

“That isn’t for us to know. But whoever it is has our thanks.” Her eyes have gone mad; she totally believes this crap.

Dropping my nice act, I scoff. “Are you fucking crazy? Kira murders . He is wrong. Anything, any God, helping him is wrong.”

For the first time, Haru speaks something. I don’t understand the work but his words are angry and eyes accusing.

Umi speaks up, “Haru says we know what you’ve been doing. You are just like the monsters you kill in America. We are holy people- we kill evil and respect the divine.”

“And Kira is DIVINE???”

All hints of a smile are gone from her face when she speaks next. “Keep your voice down. We won’t help you catch Kira. We don’t even want to find Kira. Let him rid the world of evil and then we can kill monsters in peace like us hunters are meant to.”

Haru speaks again and the girl nods furiously. “Seeing as you’re an American hunter, we have something of yours that we’re anxious to get rid of. Wait here.”

She disappears behind the back door. In the 15 minutes it takes her to get back, I realize I’m fucked. Being on a different continent, I have no idea how Japanese hunters work. I have no contacts. No one to turn to in case things get fucked up. I’ve told L that I’m working on a lead but this bar is a bust. Only thing I’ve left is the library now- and even then, killing a Shinigami would take weapons. Where and how to get them? L could take care of the police if there are bodies but I’d have to tell him why there are bodies. Including him in this supernatural angle could prove disastrous. Should I call Garth? Jody? Have someone come here to help me?

When Umi returns, I realize I don’t need to call another hunter from home.

Seems like they’re already here.

The girl accompanying Umi is a 15-year-old teenager looking furious and relieved at the sight of me.

Krissy.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once Krissy finished her tale (with 3 burgers, 2 large fries and cokes), I marvel for the millionth time how we, who save the world, are constantly being fucked over. Her dad got her to investigate Kira, same as me but without the FBI’s help, and got eaten by a vampire. Krissy’s been stuck here since they came on a fake passport, she had no money, oh and yeah- that she’s a minor. She couldn’t contact anyone at home because who needs numbers when you have phones? But what happens when blood-crazy monsters trash your house and break all your shit? The hunters at the bar let her stay in exchange for doing some chores. I thank a God I don’t believe in or count on that it was not worse.

“So I have some yen saved from what they paid me. But if you get me back home- I have an aunt- I’ll pay you back,” Krissy says once she’s done eating.

“I’m getting you back sweetie, and don’t worry about the money. Humanity still exists no matter what you’ve seen.”

Her fingers start tapping on the table. “No matter what, huh? I’ve seen my father ignore me and go crazy to prove his worth by catching this psycho. What kind of person does that?”

Well, atleast he didn’t force Krissy to hunt. “Look sweetheart, I don’t know why your father did what he did. This life, it changes something fundamental inside people. We stop being regular people and become someone else. Just remember the good moments with him and leave it at that. Nothing’s your fault, so no need to look for answers that aren’t coming. Okay?”

Her nod is quick and shaky. The girl doesn’t cry, I respect her. “Your aunt, she reliable?”

“Um, I don’t really know. Dad only talked about her sometimes but she’s lived at the same house for 20 years. I remember the way.”

Not good.

My plan is made- atleast for her. I call my contact at FBI and tell him to have a fake US passport brought over to me with Krissy's face and a fake name. Earliest she can leave will be the day after tomorrow, six in the morning. Haneda to O’Hare, then to Sioux Falls Regional Airport. Jody will be there to pick her up and handle the rest.

Taking her back to the headquarters is a definite no. I pick the nearest motel to the airport and get ourselves a room. While Krissy’s enjoying a long-awaited bath (evident by her off-tune humming), my mind is reeling- I have 0 leads on Kira with just a hunch about Shinigami, and now a kid to take care of for 2 days. Meanwhile, L is there with Light and Misa who could very well be the murderers. What a mess.

Pulling up Watari’s number, I inform him that some personal business has come up requiring me to stay out of the headquarters until the morning of the day after tomorrow. “Your request for leave will have to be approved by Ryuzaki; please stay on the line while I confirm this with him.” Staring at the phone in disbelief, I contemplate chucking it out along with the tracker he placed on my belt.

“I thought your commitment to catching Kira would have you here with us day and night. What is so important that you must stay away?”, comes the bored drawl of the detective.

“As I told Watari, it’s personal.”

“What of the lead?”

I pinch my eyes shit remembering that shit show. “Terrible. Waste of time.”

“I could’ve told you that before and saved you a trip to Hunter’s Moon. ”

I sit up straight from where I had been lounging on the bed. Hearing hunter in L’s voice is like I’ve been in a dream and then suddenly falling in a dead drop.

God. Oh god.

“Anne? Anne?”

“Yes Ryuzaki?” I gasp. “Are you alright?” No. “Yes.”

“What happened at the bar?”, L prods. “Nothing. My lead turned out to be a Kira supporter. They don’t know who Kira is but they certainly won’t be helping us.” I wonder if the defeat in my voice is apparent to him or not. “Hm. Unsurprising. You should get back to the headquarters so you may actually prove useful.” Picking at my cuticles, I’m planning my trip to the local library to show him how useful I am. “Shut up, Ryuzaki. I told you, I have a personal thing to take care of.”

“Are you planning to engage in intercourse with a stranger?”

What. What.

My voice is a squeak. “Ryu- what the hell dude?”

“Well, you were at a bar, your location is at a motel now and asking for leave for personal reasons when you possibly can’t have any in a foreign country you’ve been in for less than 48 hours with no contacts. It’s a highly probable guess that you met a stranger at a bar and now want to have sex with him.”

His whole explanation- wow. “No, Ryuzaki. I’m not at the motel to have sex. Something really important and unrelated to the case has come up. I wasn’t expecting it. Real coincidence. But I have to take care of this. And as for being useful, I’ll do my research from the local library tomorrow and be back at the headquarters the next morning.”

“If you do anything stupid, the taskforce will not rescue you. Do not screw up the investigation. Do not draw attention to yourself during your library trip.”

Duh. “There goes the plan of wearing my big bird costume tomorrow. I was really looking forward to it.”

The robot does not laugh. I decide to get some answers for a change. “How are things at your end? Lovebirds acting usual?"

L enunciates like he’s talking to a 2 year old. “We cannot talk about that on the phone. It’s not secure.”

Rolling my eyes, I huff out a reply. “Like you haven’t got the most secure phones on the planet. Thanks for giving me one, btw. Definitely going to get up to all sorts of nefarious things on this one.”

A long-suffering sigh is my only answer.

I want more. I don’t want to hang up. I don’t want to face the surly, traumatized teenager about to get out of the bath. I don’t want to go back to planning my next move when I have nothing. I want Sam and Dean. And Cas and Bobby. And my mom and dad. And a hug. And someone to make me feel warm. And to keep talking to L- the only person I’ve allowed myself to trust one percent.

The wall I’ve been staring at goes blurry. I want a hug, now. NOW. I swallow- sharp, hot glass shards going down my throat. The call is still on. No one speaks. I disconnect.

I’ve let go.

A/N:

What do you think? First real scene of Anne with a Winchester. Sorry that the bar was a bust but I've always imagined that hunters from different countries don't collab and Team Free Will has messed up (with good intentions) so many times that I don't think they'd be too welcome.

Anyway, I've got the outline for the next chapter ready so it should be posted in a week. It's still a WIP so if anyone has got any scene request, just let me know!

Likes, comments and reblogs fuel me, don't forget to leave some :)

XOXO

#death note fanfiction #death note oc #l lawliet x reader #l x reader #supernatural #supernatural reader insert #death note anime #l death note #supernatural oc #dean winchester #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader

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mlobsters · 3 months

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supernatural s15e1 back and to the future (w. andrew dabb)

find it a little weird that they're using the bob seger famous final scene song for the season premiere big recap thing, they used this song in an episode - for kevin's funeral pyre in 9x10. maybe they've reused a song like that (poignant moment within an ep and then a recap, they reuse recap songs certainly) before and i just didn't notice, did this time because that song is in my main playlist from when i watched that s9 episode. typing all that up, what a pointless thing to care about. not sure i vibe with the clips and music selection but they're really hit or miss for me in general. music thematically, yes. anything else, ehh

also been thinking like. i don't see why s13-14 (and 15 remains to be seen, obviously) are said to be so much worse than say, s7-12 (though 11 had bright spots for me not seen since way, way back - or hey, better than *gasp* s1-5 at times because it occasionally focused on good feelings in a way that was just not happening before.) and i'm sure i'm in the minority yet again but i just haven't particularly liked the main plots for most of the seasons. and while i had some big issues with s6, it didn't go campy-ridiculous for me until the leviathans. and again, for me, pretty much everything since has gone that direction. some not campy, but all pretty ridiculous. i tolerate, not delight :S but i'm here for the characters and relationships, so i keep on keeping on.

anyway. dark and jittery longer than i deem necessary battle in the graveyard which somehow became not a death sentence in between the season break

DEAN Great. So we go outside, we get ripped apart. We stay in here, w-what, starve to death?! CAS Well, I wouldn't starve. DEAN Well, good for you.

LOL good one, cas

CAS He's an abomination! BELPHEGOR You're an abomination with that stupid, dumb trench coat.

ooh burn. and so true

BELPHEGOR I mean, the last time I was on Earth, I mean, I was human. Ah, it was a while ago. I mean, but, you know, we were all worshipping this giant rock that looked like a huge penis, and... Anyway, folks back then, you know? Had a lot of humps. I mean, a lot. Look at 'em now. I mean, look at you. I mean, you're, uh, you know, gorgeous. DEAN What? Okay. When are you gonna get out of that body? BELPHEGOR Eh, when I find another one. I mean, I would've jumped at the cemetery, but all those meat suits were a little too, uh, you know, wormy. Difficult to blend, if you will

giving me leonardo dicaprio accent/cadence there with the wormy bit. weird. also mentioned dicaprio way back when he was in that nougat scene in 13x01. anyway, i mean this is something. can't resist the whole new character for the same actor thing. but seems like a more fun role for calvert

music they've got playing while sam and cas search the houses is pretty unique. i like it. this really muffled deep fast percussion. miracle. and jay gruska?? okay, i see you!! look at you, sir!!! finally coming up with a win

the killer clown makeup, good!

the blood mary wig and makeup, HORRENDOUS. reminds me of the knockoff ringu girl in 7x18. called it party city costume and makeup 🤪

spn s7e18 party on, garth

handy that the spell that needs a human heart, there's an abundance of freshly dead people around. i don't have the energy to even ponder what this demon's agenda is

BELPHEGOR What? Oh. No. I-I mean, uh... – I'm a fan. DEAN Excuse me? BELPHEGOR Yeah, I-I didn't want to say it in front of the other guys, but when you were in Hell, with Alastair, I, uh... I got a chance to watch you work. And, I mean, the things you did to those people, I mean, it wasn't torture. It was, um... It was art. DEAN Yeah, but that was a long time ago. BELPHEGOR Depends how you look at it.

dean surprisingly chill about this conversation. far more chill than i am. maybe he's been doing some work

so every door in hell opened, including the cage. ok. so is that how they finally address adam?

stupid god weapon which i assumed was lethal no matter what, well. festering at least.

and some sort of hallucination flashback vision who knows what i don't know what with evil!sam and dean begging sammy. great, visions 3.0?

lol, seen the gag reel gif from this scene where misha calls him dean instead of sam

it's fun that they're doing new spellwork magic stuff with a character, but. clearly it's gonna be some big Thing, what with how useful and powerful it is

not remembering why dean's being snippy with cas. i guess because he doesn't want to talk about jack dying? they've pretty well glossed over it

little more fester-y. needed some gooey bits to dab off with the gauze

DEAN Okay. Hey, do you remember when we were little? What I would do to distract you whenever I'd rip off a Band-Aid or something like that? SAM Yeah. You'd tell some stupid joke. DEAN Yeah. Knock, knock. Come on. Knock, knock. SAM Who's... DEAN Still got it.

cute cute. i don't care if it's pandering i will take any and all pre-series anecdotes

SAM Yeah. So, when Chuck… God… said "This is the End," I guess this is what he meant. DEAN Yeah, well. Screw him. He's been playing us this entire time. Just when we thought we had a choice. You know, whenever we thought we had free will. We were just rats in a maze. Sure, we could go left. Sure, we could go right. But we were still in the damn maze. Just makes you think, if all of it… you know, everything that we've done… What did it even mean? SAM It meant a lot. We still saved people. DEAN Yeah, but what for? You know? Just so he could throw another End of the World at us and then sit back and chug popcorn? SAM Maybe. Yeah, maybe. But… now he's gone. DEAN You think? SAM That's what he does. He gets bored and… and… and… and pulls the ripcord. I mean, that's what he did with Apocalypse World and… and probably with all of them. He moves on, starts another story. But you know what? Good. 'Cause if he bailed, it's just us. For the first time. It's just us. DEAN And about three billion ghosts. SAM Yeah, well, what's one more Apocalypse, right? But, seriously, if we win… When we win this, God's gone. Hm. There's no one to screw with us. There's no more maze. It's just us. And we're free. DEAN So you and me versus every soul in Hell? I like those odds. SAM Yeah, me too. DEAN Well, you know what that means. We got work to do.

also will always accept sam and dean vs the world

i'm not totally understanding this jumping to the conclusion that chuck is gone-gone. what with his repeated stated desire last episode that they're his favorite show. would presume he's just orchestrating his big farewell season arc

jay, it was too much to ask for good music throughout, i know. the music backing sam and dean's conversation at the end made me roll my eyes lol

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 15x01 #spn musical score #jay gruska #andrew dabb #lukewarm takes

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

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The Boss From Hell

Summary: After Hell rose up under the rule of Boyking Sam and took over the earth, the reader has found herself working for Hell Corp and trying to be as productive an employee as possible to save herself from death. When she gets a call to meet with Sam himself though, he has a new job for her, one involving seducing his demon brother...

Pairing: Demon!Dean x reader

Word Count: 3,700ish

Warnings: language, threats, smut, angst

A/N: Enjoy!

_______

“Y/N. Sam would like to see you in his office,” said your boss, Todd. You swallowed, frozen in your seat. “Sweetie the longer you take the bigger odds he kills more slowly.”

“Right,” you said with a nod. “Um I’m almost wrapped up with the Johnson file but it’s final touches on the charts if you can do that after I’m, you know, dead.”

“Of course. I look forward to working together with you as a demon again,” he said. You swallowed and stood, Todd smiling. “All you humans are always so concerned about that. Trust me, this is better.”

“Looking forward...to it,” you said as you left your cubicle. Todd rubbed your shoulder before you went down the hall and out to the elevators. You were barely able to press the button down without shaking like a leaf. The doors shut quickly and you went down to the ground floor, quickly rushing over to a pair of large wooden doors where two demons in suits waited outside. They opened the doors for you and you forced yourself to step into the room.

It was no office. It had a lone chair and smelled faintly of blood. The doors shut behind you and you felt a presence close by.

“Y/N, isn’t it?” said Sam, his voice coming from directly to your right. He had a dark smile on his face as he walked in front of you.

“Yes sir,” you said as you lowered your head. He leaned down to get at your height and you shut your eyes.

“You think I’m going to kill you?” he asked. You nodded once and he laughed. “Well I do have a habit of doing that to most humans that come in here. I hear good things about you. Your bosses take credit for all of your work naturally but I know who puts in the long hours and does the real work. I’m quite impressed.”

“Thank you sir,” you said. He grabbed your chin and you looked up, Sam smiling back at you.

“I also know that you used your job here to help your human family. I don’t mind a rule broken here or there. You do work for Hell after all,” he said. He dropped your face and straightened himself up. “I’d like to promote you.”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you, sir,” you said. Sam smirked and you frowned.

“This isn’t an office job. You’re familiar with the resistance group known as W?” he asked. You nodded, used to seeing them all over the news. “My brother leads it. He’s...annoying. I’ve struggled to get a mole into his group for years. I feel as though you might be the one to help me change that.”

“Sir?”

“I want you to go undercover and gather intelligence for me.”

“Sir I thought…” you trailed off as he stared at you.

“Speak your mind. This only works if you tell me everything after all,” he smiled. You swallowed and nodded.

“I thought your brother was...a demon. A Knight of Hell,” you said.

“He is. He’s my second in command which is precisely why I want you to substantiate these rumors for me. Use any means necessary. Sex tends to work with him,” he said.

“You want me to have sex with a demon?” you asked, Sam releasing a booming laugh.

“Oh you’re so adorable. I want you to do whatever the fuck you have to in order to get close. The demon version of him is a little...slutty so use that to your advantage,” he said.

“Okay?” you said.

“You’re dismissed,” he said. He started to walk away and you opened your mouth. “Do not make me ask twice.”

You quickly left and went back to your cubicle, Todd surprised to see you still alive and human.

“Hey! You didn’t die! That’s good! Was this about the promotion I mentioned for you,” he smiled. “I bet it was.”

“Yeah,” you said wit a nod. “I um, got a promotion. I’m not working under you anymore though. Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s alright kid. You’re gonna do great things in upper management,” he said. “You mind finishing up that last report for me before you go?”

“Yeah, sure thing, Todd.”

You sighed as you stepped in front of your closet mirror that night. Sam had texted you some more information on Dean. You weren’t to come into work anymore unless he asked you to. You were a simple human now that had plenty of cash and resources and didn’t give a fuck about anything.

You spun around and winced at the shirt you had on. The backless shirt you had on. The last time you’d worn it was on a girls night to the club and you’d had an amazing time. But that was fun and a simple little backseat quickie with a handsome guy. This felt like you were selling your body.

“If I don’t go, he’s gonna torture me and kill me. If I do...I might get really hot sex and I might get to be safe from bad shit. Okay. Okay. I’m having sex with a demon tonight. I can’t believe I just said that but it’s happening. Okay. Here we go. Let’s do this. Let us do this,” you said, making a face. “Ah, why’d I have to be good at my job. Fuck.”

You took a deep breath and put on a pair of five inch heels, hair and makeup already done.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you said as you headed out to the club known for hosting demons.

“Two shots of vodka and an old fashioned,” you said at the bar thirty minutes later. The demon behind the bar nodded and you felt the eyes on your back. Lots and lots of black eyes in meat suits on your back. You threw back the shots once you got them, chugging the old fashioned before you got another.

“Rough day, princess?” asked a demon in a suit. He ran a finger up your spine and you narrowed your eyes.

“I don’t think princess said to touch,” said a voice. You turned your head and recognized the red shirt immediately. Dean Winchester, Knight of Hell and Sam’s righthand man. “Get lost.”

The demon took off and you got your drink, sipping it slowly as Dean came to lean back against the bar next to you.

“You know this is a demon bar, don’t you, sweetheart?” he asked.

“I ain’t your sweetheart. Sweetheart,” you said. You drank half your glass before you set it down. He smirked and picked it up, finishing it off. “That was mine.”

“I’ll buy you another one,” he said. He waved his finger and two shots of brown liquor were in front of you quickly. “You want to have tonight sweetheart?”

“Oh, you might be the Knight of Hell but I ain’t your typical girl,” you said. You took your shot in your hand and he smirked as he picked his up.

“I’ve heard it before. Let’s see if you live up to the hype,” he said. “Cheers.”

“Cheers, demon boy,” you said, clanking your glasses together.

“Another round. I like this one.”

“I said down,” you growled thirty minutes later in the room above the bar. You bit at his neck and rolled your hips, Dean thrusting up into you as you sucked his skin hard. “I. Said. Stay. The. Fuck. Still.”

He groaned as he released himself in you, your walls squeezing him, his tip hitting your g-spot and giving you a nice, deep orgasm. You kissed his marked up skin as you moved a few more times, smirking as you sat up. His hickey disappeared and he smiled, laughing to himself.

“Wow. You are not like other human girls,” he said.

“Demon or not, a bottom loves an in charge top,” you said. “Now I think it’s time you cleaned up the mess you made.”

You slid off of him and crawled up the bed, settling yourself over his face. He immediately starting eating you out, his tongue swirling and diving deep. You came quickly and he licked up your juices until you were sure there was nothing left.

“Good demon,” you said as you rolled off of him. He sat up on his elbows as you walked over to get dressed.

“Y/N,” he said. You tensed. You hadn’t told him your name. You looked over your shoulder and his smile seemed...sad almost. “Marcy’s 30th birthday. You went out with your friends. We uh, we had some fun in my car.”

“Blue flannel guy,” you said as it came back to you. “Wait, were you a demon-”

“No,” he chuckled darkly. “That improvement came later. Something about you in that shirt I can’t resist apparently, human or demon.”

“I live in town if you’re ever…”

“Looking for a fuck?” he asked. “I don’t have too hard of a time getting those.”

“There’s a difference between a fuck and a good fuck. How am I batting so far?” you winked.

“Two for two,” he said with a smirk. “Why’s a nice human girl like you in a place like this? I remember the hot sex. I remember the backseat cuddling too.”

“The demons are in charge, Dean. Hell won. I want to be on the winning side of this thing. You guys tend to fuck better too so there’s that.”

“The boyking is in charge. He’s the one to worry about,” he said.

“Isn’t he your boss?”

“I suppose. Change the guy’s diapers and this is how I’m repaid. Fucking vice president of this shit hole,” he said.

“Well, you’re hotter,” you said.

“He’d kill you for that you know. I should kill you for insulting him like that,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. He got out of bed and you stared up at him when he walked in front of you. “You’re still hotter.”

“He gets a lot of credit for being smart. Most everyone’s always thought he was more intelligent. I mean how obvious was he trying to send a mole after me?” he said. You didn’t move a muscle and Dean brushed your hair behind your ear. “Your only give away was getting out of bed and not trying to cuddle. I can’t blame you for that.”

“There’s no point in me trying to lie, is there,” you said.

“No, not really,” he said.

“Please kill me quickly,” you said. You shut your eyes and swallowed. “Please.”

“I think you’re going to come home with me and we’ll decide the answer to that. Get dressed. Now.”

Twenty minutes later Dean was leading you by the arm into a relatively normal looking home. He cut through the house and over to a kitchen table, dragging a chair out and setting it in the middle of the room. You sat down, Dean grabbing another one and swiveling it around to face you. He straddled it and sat down, lifting up a finger. He pointed it at you and curled it, your arms tight by your side.

“Understand?” he said. You nodded and the pressure came off of you. You set your hands in your lap, Dean looking you up and down. “I can’t blame you. Your options were agree to be a mole or death. It’s not really a choice at that point. He kills his loyal followers most slowly too I’m sure you’ve heard.”

You stared at him and he smiled.

“How about we come to a...similar agreement,” he said. You shut your eyes and he chuckled.

“You feed Sammy whatever information I tell you to and I will allow you to continue to live,” he said.

“Not much choice there either,” you said quietly.

“Do you know where he gets his powers from? Demon blood. Guess who’s blood he likes the most,” said Dean. He wiped his thumb over his forearm and you saw a scar appear. “I am sick of being his blood bank.”

“It keeps you weak, doesn’t it,” you said. “It’s why he does it. It’s why you haven’t challenged him.”

“Perceptive aren’t you,” he said. You knew he respected strength and you were valuable to him now. You stood up and he watched you carefully. You walked past him and felt a pressure keeping your arms by your sides but that was it. You could move forward, you could turn your head.

“You’re more than weak,” you said. He growled but you took a step forward and another, only stopping when his hand caught your arm. “I find it hard to imagine that the Knight of Hell gets that much power zapped when some blood gets taken from him. You’re weaker than the lowest level demon.”

“He did something to me. Now who’s side do you think I’m on? Demons? Or yours?”

“What’d he do.” He rolled his eyes and you shrugged him off. “Maybe I can help.”

“I am barely demon. He made me harmless. I keep him fed and that’s all I am anymore. He thought I was going to fuck him over. Well his big fuck up was nearly changing me back. Fuck him and fuck the demons. I’m gonna be in charge.”

“Are you going to end the world or just play dirty in it?” you asked. He smirked and raised his chin.

“You know I’m not as bad as him. I’m the lesser of two evils. You...want to help me. Oh, that’s even better than I thought. Shit, I could turn you in and probably get him to back off of me,” he said. You held your ground and he nodded. “Good. You know I was bluffing.”

“We can help each other,” you said. He rested a hand on your hip and gave it a squeeze. “I’m not your personal slut.”

“Understood. No reason we can’t indulge in a little fun while we work together though,” he said. He moved his hand aside and nodded. “I assume you want something for this.”

“What?”

“What do you want? Money? Power?”

“I don’t want to be afraid anymore. Everyone is always so afraid of what the demons will do to us. If you’re in charge, you and the other demons can play in our world but this is a human world again. Understand?”

“If my brother goes bye bye, Hell will go back to as it was. I swear on my soul,” he smirked.

“Alright then,” you said.

“Well, now that we got the dirty talk out of the way, how about I make you come screaming my name again?”

“How about you go upstairs, edge yourself and tomorrow when I come back, maybe I’ll be nice and let you get off,” you said.

“As you wish,” he said. “Don’t bother locking up. Nobody steals from us.”

“Dean,” you said as he headed upstairs. “Don’t fuck me over on this.”

“He’s not Sam anymore. I like you a hell of a lot more than him right now,” he said. “Wear something you don’t mind me tearing to shreds when you come by tomorrow.”

“We’ll see, demon boy.”

You swallowed as you followed Dean up to his bedroom the next night. You’d spent the day researching and understood what Sam had done to make him barely demon as he put it. One more shot of the right kind of blood and he’d be human.

“Y/N,” said Dean as he stepped aside and you saw a large bed. He grabbed your clutch and opened it, frowning when he pulled out the syringe of blood. “What exactly were you going to do with this? I thought we had an understanding.”

“You can help me. If you’re human then I know for sure you’re-”

“If I’m human, he knows it’s me. He knows it’s you. He’ll destroy us both. I am so much more valuable as a demon and this? This causes trust issues, sweetheart.” He snapped the syringe in his hand and you tried to take a step back, Dean slamming the door shut with his finger. “Here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m in charge and if you don’t like that, too fucking bad. Understand?”

“Yes,” you said. He walked until your back hit the door, a dark smile on his face as he peered down at you.

“Now how about-Fuck!” he shouted as you stabbed the syringe from your back pocket into his leg. You ran past him and over to a bathroom door, Dean falling down to the floor and clutching his body. He passed out and you looked around, Dean coming around quicker than you were expecting. You ran over and took out the pair of restraints from your pocket and put them on his wrists. Dean groaned as you tugged them taught and stepped back. He got up to his knees, black eyes staring at you that dissipated into deep green ones.

He shook his head out and took a few breaths, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily.

“Y/N? From the car?” he said. He looked around and down at his wrists. “What the hell is going on?”

“You don’t remember a thing?” you asked. He shook his head and swallowed. “What do you remember?”

“Sammy was...that can’t be real,” he said. “None of that is real.”

“Dean, your brother is the boyking of Hell and he rules not only Hell but earth too,” you said. He shook his head and you stepped closer. “You were a demon. I turned you human just now. Sam made you demon but kept you only kinda demon I guess for your blood. You sounded like you wanted to help and I’m sorry but you were too dangerous as a demon to work with.”

“What do you mean boyking?” asked Dean. You sighed and pulled out your phone, Dean’s breath hitching as you showed him the articles about your demon overlords. “This can’t be happening.”

“It is. I need your help. I know you hunted monsters. I need you to hunt this monster down with me.”

“You mean my brother,” said Dean. You nodded and leaned down, Dean holding out his hands. “Let me go. Please.”

“Are you going to tell Sam?” you asked.

“You have no idea what you just did,” he said. “This mark? On my arm? Eventually, I’m gonna lose it and I’m gonna kill anything in my way.”

“Then we get it off.”

“There is no getting it off. The only way to get it off is if somebody else takes it from me,” he said. “You can’t trust me as a human.”

“Are you kidding me? I just risked my life to save you.” He sighed and snapped the plastic ties, shakily getting to his feet. You stepped back and he held up a hand.

“We got some time before I go ballistic. Probably a few months. If we can get this thing off my arm...somehow...we might have a chance.”

“Then let’s get that off your arm,” you said. He nodded and smiled at you. “What?”

“I always had a good feeling about you was all. Let’s get out of-” he said as you heard a creak down the hall. You both looked out the bedroom door and saw Sam there.

“Y/N, Y/N...I should have known you’d be drawn to him. Now I have to kill him,” said Sam.

“Sammy, don’t,” said Dean, Sam suddenly by his side and snapping something. Dean dropped to the floor and you backed into a wall.

“Give him a minute. He’ll wake up all demon again real soon. This time, he’ll do as told,” said Sam. “He’s very...pliable when he first comes into his new life.”

“Pliable my ass,” said Dean as he yanked Sam down to the floor. Sam grunted and you dove into the bathroom, a lot of smashing and crashing going on in the bedroom. It went quiet and you swallowed when you heard footsteps. You looked up, Dean staring down at you, his eyes narrowed. “You followed the plan very well. I knew Sam was watching and he did exactly as expected.”

“Is he dead?” you asked.

“No. He’s going to detox now and when he’s done, he’ll be a simple little human,” said Dean. “As for our, arrangement...your family and friends are safe. Demon corp is no more.”

“Okay,” you said with a nod, wondering how the hell you were going to help either one of them now. Sam sounded like he was screwed but you knew deep down it wasn’t his fault. He was manipulated and you couldn’t blame him for that entirely. Dean, well him you just needed some blood and then you’d have time to get the mark off of him.

“Pack a bag,” he said. You raised an eyebrow and smirked as he squatted down. “I like loyalty. You’re loyal to me, aren’t you, Y/N?”

“I’m still not your slut,” you said.

“Didn’t say you were,” he said. “And I said pack a bag.”

“Why?”

“Because you just gave me Hell. I’m gonna give you whatever you want as my second in command.”

“Excuse me?”

“I feel like this is going to be the start of a great relationship, sweetheart,” he said as he flashed you a wink. “Don’t you? I’ll be by your place in an hour whether you’re ready or not.”

He walked out and you took a deep breath, closing your eyes.

“Well shit.”

________

#spn #supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #demon!dean #demon!dean x reader #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction

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monicawoe · 2 years

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spn fanworks masterlist

(updated 3/15/22)

I’ve written over 100 spn fics (ranging from ficlets to 70k big-bangs). Most of them are Sam-centric, largely featuring powers!Sam. The whole collection can be found here on AO3

newest fics:

Still Driving - Dean is driving the car. That’s all he’s doing. He’s got his eyes on the road, and hasn’t spared a glance at Sam for a solid forty minutes. (3k, gen, season 4)

Between Hell and the Hunt - Dean's deal is due, but Sam has found a way to save him. He's made a deal with someone else - someone Lilith can't touch. (2k words, Wild Hunt season 3 AU)

Behold the Beast, Behold the Lamb - Season 4 AU. Sam tried to free Dean from Hell, but angels intervened and took Dean for their own purposes. Sam is determined to get Dean back and will do whatever it takes, embracing his abilities fully. The more demon blood Sam drinks, the more demons he kills, the more he changes inside and out until it’s impossible to hide his monstrous side. Ruby, Uriel and Castiel push Sam to fulfill his destiny and become his true self—the Beast of the Revelation. (gen, Sam/Ruby, 20k words; featuring art by @quickreaver)

Prayers Answered - written for the boy king Sam discord server prompt: Sam has grown up in a very religious environment. He's devoted, he goes to church, he prays. He knows that God is with him, because he listens to his prayers. But as Sam grows older, he realizes it's not God that's been listening. And he realizes that he's not asking - he's been ordering, and his loyal servants would never deny their King. (2k words; gen)

Sin Eater - Sam has a different plan to cure demon Dean, but Dean doesn't want to be cured. (Sam drinking blood from demon!Dean, written for @quickreaver for her artwork Bitumen Kiss)

On His Head a Crown - written for the 2019-2020 SWBB, art by @slytherkins Hunters drug Sam, force-feed him demon blood, and bring him to where they’ve captured Brady. Brady tells Sam he knows how to stop the Apocalypse, and Sam, despite his better judgment, hears him out: Sam himself is the horsemen Conquest—aka the Antichrist—and he alone can bring Lucifer’s apocalypse to a grinding halt. Sam resists, but when he discovers the good he can do with his new powers, he decides to use them to atone for all his past mistakes. (21k, Sam/Brady, gen, AU of 5x03-5x04)

Many more under the cut

Best Self - written for @alyndra9 for the prompt: King of Hell Sam meets Kale!Sam and they have many differences of opinion to work out. (aka the only one who knows what Sam really wants is Sam.) words by monicawoe banner by @quickreaver! (~4k words, Sam/Sam)

All You Have Is Your Fire - written for @quickreaver for the 2020 Supernatural Spring Fling Dean has known fire all his life. Sometimes it sounds like his brother. (~2k words; gen)

Tear You Apart - written for @wetsammywinchester who wanted Soulless!Sam/Brady & Soulless!Sam taking on the mantle of King of Hell: Sam doesn’t want his soul back. He resurrects Brady who helps him figure out a way to outsmart Death: by damaging his soul so it can’t be reintegrated. With Brady’s help, Sam reclaims his power, and takes his soul apart one piece at a time. (8k words; Soulless!Sam/Brady)

Hellbound - Sam is in Hell, and then he isn't. He's standing on a sidewalk with a stranger looking back at him—a stranger that has his face. My 2020 spn-summergen fic! Featuring soulless!Sam, disembodied soul-Sam and amnesiac Dean. (gen, 8k)

Lakeside Fishing - written for @denugis - After defeating Famine, after days of suffering through demon blood withdrawal in the panic room, Sam needs time to clear his head. Early in the morning, he heads to a small lake seeking solitude, but instead finds an unexpected ally. (4k words; Sam/Patrick; set after My Bloody Valentine; witch!Sam)

His Soul to Keep - art by @sketchydean - written for the SPN Eldritch Bang horror event - Dean’s deal is coming due soon. When he finds out from Ruby that Hell will turn him into a demon, he refuses to accept it, even though he can already feel pieces of his soul starting to crumble away. Sam is his only anchor to the world, and Dean finds it harder and harder to leave his side. After Broward County, after watching Dean die a thousand deaths, Sam decides he’s not going to let Dean go to Hell. He’ll do whatever it takes, even if that means allying himself with Ruby and using the darkness inside of him. Sam casts a soul-binding spell on Dean; they might not be able to break the deal, but they can change who Dean’s soul belongs to. (13k, Sam/Dean, hard-gen, AU of season 3))

Last Drop - art by @quickreaver -written for the Twisted Tropes event - Sam/Brady AU set while Sam’s at Stanford: Sam is slowly adjusting to his new life at Stanford University. He’s left his life of hunting behind, and traded it for endless studying and tests, but he’s plagued by dreams of Dean and Dad in danger, dreams of blood and violence. Then he meets Tyson Brady, who’s always there with a smile and a cup of coffee to get Sam through all-nighters. Sam’s dreams start to fade, but just as he’s getting used to a nice normal life, he starts to develop abilities—powers he can’t control. Brady thinks they’re great, but Sam knows power never comes without a cost. (14k, Sam/Brady)

Make Angels of Us All - art by @amberdreams1960 - Sam has a guardian angel. It’s been with him his whole life, trying to keep him safe. The angel gives Sam power he can’t control: power to move things with his mind, power over fire, and wings that nobody else can see—bony and jagged with scaly feathers. Dean says monsters aren't real, but Dad thinks they are. Sam's power scares him, and he’s not always sure what's real, but what he does know is people keep trying to kill the three of them, and he won't let that happen. (~20K, gen)

Burdens, Doublefold - cowritten with @quickreaver, art by ileliberte What if Dean left Sam at Stanford after the fire, hoping it would keep his little brother safe and make things better? Somehow, 'better' never seems to be in the Winchester Family cards. Sam gets tangled up with his ex-roommate Brady, tracking psychics, but dealing with demons is never honest business. Dean carries on until his father is put in grave danger. He is left on his own to deal, stumbling into Harvelle's Roadhouse for help, where Dean gets just a little more than he bargained for. Eventually, the brothers’ paths twist and turn their way back to each other, but the results could mean the End of Days. (67k, gen, AU of seasons 1-2)

Before the One You Serve When Dean comes to get Sam at Stanford, he finds him living with Brady. And Dean doesn't trust Brady, even though he can't quite put his finger on why. Not at first. (5k, Sam/Brady)

He Who Fights Monsters - cowritten with nwspaprtaxis, art by @quickreaver AU of the summer between Seasons 3 and 4. Dean's dead, dragged down kicking and screaming to Hell. Sam's not dealing well. And Ruby’s got her work cut out for her. (52K, Sam/Ruby)

John Winchester is Dead They say those Winchester boys're crazy. Drive around in a big black beast and drink too much and laugh about mean things. They say their daddy's worse, but you never see him. He's just a voice on the other end of the phone or a darker shape in the back seat of their dark car. They say John Winchester died two years ago. (2k, gen, horror)

Breathing, Talking, Dead Man Walking - John Doe, male, approximately thirty-seven years old. Subject was found by EMTs in close proximity to the site of a sizable explosion in Lebanon, Kansas. (2k, gen, Sam & Dean)

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea - featuring art by @quickreaver When Sam opened Lucifer’s Cage, the only thing he found inside was Lucifer’s grace – his grace. With the return of his grace, Sam remembered his past – his war against the Host, his Fall, and his plans to bring about the End. The thing is…he doesn’t want the Apocalypse anymore. He likes things the way they are, and tries everything to keep his identity a secret- especially from Dean. Of course, the four Horsemen, Hell and Heaven have other ideas. (13K, gen)

The Last Days in the Land of Nod - comic adaptation by @quickreaver The year is 2014. The Devil is wearing his finest, the Angel is human, and the Brother protects the survivors at Camp Chitaqua.

The Two Ravens - art by @quickreaver Your brother he is, and heir to my throne. He’ll feed on the damned and he'll turn them to bone. (4k; fairy-tale)

Counteroffer About two weeks after Sam gutted a hellhound, completing the first trial, he started acting weird. (5k, psychological horror, gore)

Pattern Recognition: A Hannibal/Supernatural fusion AU - Sam and Dean split after River Pass, and their confrontation with the Horseman, War. Since Will’s escape from the Baltimore Institute for the Criminally Insane, he and Sam have been in hiding. They have a cabin, in the middle of nowhere, that keeps them off the radar; they find comfort in each other. But they can’t stay off the chessboard forever, especially not when Lucifer, wearing Hannibal Lecter as a vessel, is tearing the world apart around them. (33k, Sam Winchester/Will Graham)

Impala's Run - cowritten with @quickreaver, art by adrenalineshots Sam and Dean Singer (aka Winchester) aren’t your average young Kansas farmers. Their home is very, very far from Kansas, in fact. Many light-years worth of ‘far’. The boys may look human, but certain talents set them apart: Dean speaks the language of machines, and Sam can heal through manipulating energy. Hidden on Earth by their father, their agricultural lifestyle gets rocked when warring alien races discover where they’ve landed, and Sam and Dean are forced to make the run of their lives. (23k, gen)

All Our Wrath and Cutting Beauty - art by @quickreaver - Sam killed Alistair, but not before Alistair reminded Dean of who and what he’d become in Hell. Dean knows Sam can take down Lilith, and he’ll make damn sure Sam gets strong enough to do just that. They’ll stop the Apocalypse – together, no matter how many bodies stack up, or how much blood is spilt.(11k, horror)

Diary of a Madman -Lydia’s newest patient, Sam Winchester, suffered from hallucinations, delusions, and regular bouts of insomnia. He also thought he was Lucifer. (4k, gen, horror)

Some other bundled links, for your convenience

Demon-blood Sam

King of Hell Sam

Powers!Sam

Horror

Crossovers & Fusion ‘verses

Hannibal|SPN

SPN/Preacher

SPN/Hannibal/MCU

#spn fanworks #sam winchester #dean winchester #monicawoe's fics #fanworks masterlist

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huntertales · 3 years

Text

Part One: Abstinence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder. (Rock And A Hard Place S09E08)

Episode Summary: Sheriff Jody Mills enlists the help of Y/N and the Winchesters to help investigate multiple kidnappings that belonged to the same chastity group. The three decide to infiltrate the group for themselves. But things go wrong when Y/N and Dean disappear. Sam and Jody must rescue them before it’s too late. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 5,223.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

NOTE: Yes, this is a repost. I edited a few things around because I didn’t like it when I read it over. Took me a few days to actually get around to doing such thing. Sorry about that, but please enjoy!

Dean wasn’t sure if he should be concerned at the state he found you in when he walked into the kitchen this morning, or take a picture to tease you about this later. It seemed you were in the process of eating breakfast before you somehow fell asleep at the table, your head cradled in your arms as you quietly snored, notifying Dean that you were in a deep sleep. You hadn’t taken a hunt in the past couple of days since coming back from New York, giving you and the boys a chance to catch up on some sleep between looking for jobs and trying to figure out how to fix the mess Metatron made. While you helped when you could, your sleep hadn’t been disturbed all that much. Dean thought this might have been the first time since you started hunting you’ve gotten a healthy amount of sleep.

He could tell because you slept like the dead last night. Dean had to lovingly, but quite forcefully, push you off his chest so he could get a jump start on the day. Normally it was you who slipped out of bed first and Dean eventually got himself up. Instead you rolled over to your side of the bed and slept for another twenty minutes before you got up. You seemed your usual self when you woke up this morning, eyes half-shut and grumpy, signaling to him you forced yourself up against your own will. On mornings like this Dean learned to wait until your first cup of caffeine to speak a word to you. It seemed you had just done that from how the pot was still hot and plenty full for everyone else. But for some reason, you were still exhausted and in need of a little cat nap.

“Sweetheart?” Dean quietly spoke out to you, making sure to keep his voice at a soft enough level so he didn’t disturb you from your slumber. Normally you were a light sleeper on a good day. He made his way over to the table and leaned over to see your peacefully sleeping face. You were out cold. His lips twitched into a small smile at how adorable you looked. Dean knew he was going to get it from what he did next, but to hell with the consequences. He never got the chance to prank you like he did with Sam.

Dean made his way over to the table with a bowl in hand and a little too roughly dropped it down, causing you to wake up abruptly and with a rush of panic. The man snickered to himself behind his coffee cup as he watched you frantically look around the kitchen wondering where the noise came from. When you realized who was to blame for your rude awakening, there was a few second delayed reaction before you rolled your eyes.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Dean greeted you, smiling from the way you tried to fix your disheveled hair and smooth down your wrinkled top. “Did I disturb you?’

“What? No.” You mumbled. You rubbed your eyes like a tired child and forced yourself to keep a yawn from escaping your mouth. Sam happened to come into the kitchen right as you dropped your arms into your lap. The younger Winchester gave you a slightly confused reaction at your groggy demeanour. Your face scrunched up in annoyance from his lingering stare. “What are you looking at, Sasquatch?”

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Sam asked you out of concern, wondering if a bad nightmare kept you up most of the hours. None of you were strangers to restless nights due to a wandering mind that went to dark places you traveled to. Your entire life was a living nightmare, your past troubles liked to come and haunt you when you tried to sleep. But it seemed that wasn’t the case for you.

“On the contrary, she slept like a drunk baby. I had to pry her off me this morning.” Dean answered his brother’s question for you on his behalf. “And I caught her napping on the table.”

“Before either one of you waste your breath, I’m fine. It’s just…I’m fine.” You reassured the younger Winchester before he could bombard you with his typical worried expression and a follow up question. Despite your lack of a proper answer to explain your exhaustion, you didn’t want them to worry. They liked to over exaggerate things when it came to you. It's always been that way. Lately you didn’t want them looming over your shoulder, asking you every few minutes if you were feeling okay. Before either one of the brothers could drag out this conservation farther, you quickly changed the subject. “How’s Kevin? Has he found anything yet?”

“Jack. He’s on about four days of no sleep.” Dean said. He grabbed the box of cereal and poured himself a bowl while Sam joined the both of you at the table after fixing himself a cup of coffee. “He looks worse than you.”

“Dean, please. You know Sammy doesn’t like it when you flirt with me out in the open like this.” You replied with a sarcastic remark with a little hope the boys might think you were in decent shape after all if you were able to keep up with the petty banter. Despite how you looked. Somehow you thought you might feel worse. “What about Crowley? Do you think he might be lying about the whole ‘Metatron spell being irreversible’ thing?”

“Crowley lie?” Dean pretended to sound shock at such a possibility, causing Sam to scoff between sips of his coffee. While the situation was grim, there was a small silver lining that you might be able to use to your advantage over the demon. “I do know one thing. Next time that junkie’s jonesing for a hit of blood, we got leverage.” You were about to agree with the plan, knowing it was better than anything you had, but the words failed to come out of your mouth. Instead a rather loud yawn escaped first. “Seriously, you want a pillow?”

You rolled your eyes from your boyfriend’s concern hidden behind his behavior. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look so good, Y/N.” Sam shared his concern along with his brother’s. He’d been silent for most of the conversation since settling beside you. It didn’t take much observations to see you weren’t looking that great as of lately. He was starting to grow uneasy with the possibility that there might be something wrong with you. Something deeper than you realized. “Do you feel like you’re getting sick?”

“I’m not sick. I just—I feel like my battery can’t recharge.” You admitted to them, trying to explain how you felt to the best of your ability to them. “I don’t know. It’s probably just stress or something.”

You reached for your bowl of soggy cereal when the room fell into a moment of silence. The brothers glanced over at one another from hearing how you felt. A string of unspoken words were said between them as they processed what you explained about your current situation. You were being held together from the inside out with duct tape and angel grace. Things weren’t moving quick or as efficient as they wanted. Despite wanting to talk about it, Ezekiel remained silent on a possible reassuring update, choosing to stay silent.

You scooped up a spoonful of flakes and stretched out your head to take a bite, only stopping at the sound of a cell phone going off. Dean reached a hand inside his pocket to pull out his phone after realizing it was his own and answered the call. The person on the other line was a familiar one to the boys, you however gave the older Winchester a slightly confused expression at hearing the name he greeted.

”Who’s Sheriff Mills?” You whispered to Sam, wondering why the name sounded a bit familiar, just not enough for you to put a face to a name.

“Jody Mills? The sheriff up in Sioux Falls? We worked on a case with her years back with all the dead people rising in town?” Sam tried refreshing your memory. You thought about it for a second before shaking your head, coming up blank. He tried to resist the urge to pass his brother a look of disbelief as he continued on to try and jog your memory. “She went on a blind date with Crowley and nearly died.”

“Oh.

Jody.” You finally figured out who was on the other line, your fingers snapping at your eureka moment before the call could be put on speaker for all of you to talk to the woman to see what she was calling about.

“Uh…I got a bit of an oddball to pitch your direction.” Jody said. You leaned forward to listen to the call better as you placed your elbow on the table to cradle your head. For a second you swore you heard a faint sound of something crashing in the distance. “A small town I cover outside of Sioux Falls—only crime to speak of being the occasional cow tipping. Then last week, four people go missing.”

“All right, so, what makes you think this is our kind of weird?” Dean asked the woman.

“I’ve got a witness who says he saw someone lift an S.U.V. to nab a girl last night.” She told you the key detail that made her think of the boys and call them for some extra help.

“Huh.” You glanced over at the boys with a rather intrigued expression as the possibility of another case for you to dig a little bit deeper into to see if it might be a hunt. “I don’t know about you, but I’d say that’s definitely our kind of weird.”

+ + +

You and the boys packed up your things and made the drive up to South Dakota to visit the sheriff. You figured it wouldn't hurt to keep yourselves busy while Kevin worked himself to the bone with the tablet. All of you decided to meet at the latest crime scene and go from there while you caught up on details. You were happy to be out of the bunker and moving around. You hoped going back on another hunt might give you a second wind. There was nothing better than a couple of missing people to get the adrenaline pumping. You just wished you knew what was making you so damn tired. You bit back another yawn when the Impala pulled into the parking lot of some diner.

You were the last one to get out when Dean parked the car next to the sheriff’s truck, still moving a bit slower than you intended. The boys greeted Jody with wide smiles and tight hugs after seeing her again. You slammed the backseat door shut and smoothed out your outfit before approaching the woman, giving her a friendly smile. However it seemed she wasn’t expecting to see you. Your smile faltered slightly at the confused and startled expression that crossed her face. It seemed the boys failed to mention about your resurrection from the dead when they called to see how she was after everything that went down earlier this year with her blind date with the King of Hell.

“What’s wrong, Jody? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Dean joked with the woman, finding her reaction at seeing someone who thought was dead was rather funny. She turned her head to look over at the man, demanding an explanation. “Yeah. We felt the same way when I saw her again. It’s a long, messy story.”

“I’m

a ghost. Or a zombie.” You reassured the woman before she could try and process how you were somehow alive. “It really is a messy story. Short version of it all: not really dead, just lost my memory and thought I was someone else for two years.”

“It never is easy with you boys, huh?” Jody felt the need to ask. You could hear the humor in her voice at the trouble that seemed to follow them. “Anyway, it’s nice to see you again, Y/N. Glad you’re not dead.”

“Me too.” You agreed with the woman, smiling at how her personality peeked through her words. From what you remembered about the woman all those years ago when Bobby was still alive, you liked her. And the things the boys mentioned about her during the drive here made you think she was going to be a good friend to have on your side. “Luckily, I’m back and ready to hunt down whatever is kidnapping these people.”

“That’s the spirit. So, car was right over there, ass over teakettle.” Jody gestured over to the other side of the parking lot where the abduction took place, all that remained was the broken glass from the car that was currently being swept up by a maintenance worker. “Now, normally, if somebody would tell me that one guy lifted an S.U.V, I’d tell him to take a flying leap, but after what I’ve seen and now heard…”

“Nothing’s impossible.” You said. You opened up the case file to one of the missing people and skimmed through the information, wondering if there might be something important here to make note of while the boys went through the others. "How does this match up with other missing people?”

“Well, four abductions, strong evidence left at every scene—literally.” Jody said.

“So, the first vic was a pastor?” Sam asked, wondering if there was another more solid connection to the rest of the victims.

“Yeah. Door of his study was punched in. And the next two—an engaged couple.” Jody explained the case in better detail. You looked down at the case file Dean laid open on the trunk of the Impala and the black and white photograph attached. All of the victims appeared to be the small town folk who were innocent at first glance. Someone went out of their way to snatch them up.

“Locked bedroom window was ripped open.” Dean noted the similarly strange and destructive pattern between each kidnapping.

‘And then we have our waitress here with the topsy-turvy ride.” Jody added.

“Any other connection among them?” Sam wondered.

“Yeah. They were all members of Good Faith church here.” Jody said. You narrowed your eyes slightly while you thought of the possibility of what might be might be to blame for this if there was a religious connection to all of this. You and the boys dealt with something like this a little similar earlier in the year. “My church group back in Sioux Falls was in a tizzy over it.”

Dean hummed his response at hearing the sheriff and her new found spiritual faith. You tossed him a dirty look at his reaction to the woman’s faith to God. She had every right to believe in whatever she wanted, even if you didn’t feel the same way. Jody seemed to have picked up on the same feelings you had when she asked him what that was all about. “I didn’t peg you for churchy.”

“Yeah. You know…choking on the ladies’ room floor ‘cause of witchcraft kind of makes a higher power seem relevant.” Jody gave the man a truthful response to her sudden urge to join a church. You offered a weak smile when you saw her eyes direct over to you. “And seeing someone you were told was dead doesn’t help, either.”

“Jody, are you sure you’re ready to jump back into the fray?” Dean asked the woman in a concerned tone of voice, knowing all the things she witnessed last year and the passing of Bobby didn’t help the woman. But it seemed he underestimated her.

“This wackadoo stuff keeps coming. More I know, better armed I’ll be.” Jody gave an honest response to the man’s question. She was a sheriff, after all. If she wanted to protect her town from creatures that went bump in the night, she was going to have some practice in order to do that. You had a feeling from what Jody witnessed over the years, it was going to take a lot to scare the woman to the core.

“Okay, so, we have missing church folk and super strength.” Sam summarized what all of you knew at the moment so far about the case. He decided to take a shot in the dark, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to throw his theory out there. “Maybe angels harvesting vessels? Could be a Buddy Boyle type thing.”

“Wh—angels?” Jody repeated the creature the younger Winchester spoke out in the open like it was nothing. She looked at all of you with disbelief at how casual you were being. “You’re joking.”

“Don’t get your pants on fire.” Dean said, stopping the woman from becoming thrilled at hearing about creatures she thought only existed in the bible. “They suck.”

“You said there was a witness.” Sam said, circling back to what Jody mentioned earlier.

“Yeah, well…” Jody shrugged at the person who was waiting for you to talk to them. She didn’t seem too set on the idea they were going to be any help to you. “More or less.”

You and the boys decided to get a booth inside the restaurant while Jody rounded up the witness so you could speak to them. You sipped the coffee you ordered out of politeness and patiently waited. A few minutes later Jody arrived with your witness, a homeless man who most likely camped out near the place from the looks of him. You offered a friendly smile when the man's eyes scanned across the table to see what this was all about. Jody pulled up a chair while she ushered the man to take the seat in the booth next to you when you slid over to be close to the window. He set his coffee cup down to the table, seeming comfortable enough to give his side of the story.

“Okay, Slim.” Jody said. “My friends here want to talk to you about the missing girl.”

“Honor. Her name was Honor.” The man started off by giving the missing girl’s name, indicating that he knew her on some personal level. And it seemed he remembered her from the kind behavior given to someone like him. “Nice girl. Always left me meatloafs.”

“Slim, why don’t you tell us what you saw that night?’ Sam asked the man, hoping to get to the reason why he was here in the first place.

“I heard a big noise, got woke, and there’s somebody over there lifting a car up—like this.” Slim demonstrated what he witnessed last night, lifting up his arms the way he saw the stranger did to the car, as if the several ton machine weighed nothing.

“And did you happen to see who it was?” You asked him another question.

“I was too far. But I saw a light go off.” Slim made sure to add a small detail he thought was important enough to mention. Sam guessed it was a white light, “Blue. Blue like fire. But not. Then she was—she wasn’t there.”

“Could you think of anything else?” Dean hoped for a little bit more from the man, but Slim shook his head before he looked down to his cup of coffee. He was helpful enough for you and the boys at figuring out what you might be tracking. Dean pulled out a small wad of cash from his pocket and handed over a twenty dollar bill to Slim, hoping to give him a hot meal for his help. “Well Slim, thank you for your time.”

Slim happily pocketed the money and went on his way with the cup of coffee he came over with. You let out a quiet sigh from trying to figure out the proper direction you should be going to figure all of this out. While you didn’t have much at the moment, Slim’s description of the kidnapping might have been something for you and the boys to go off on.

“Okay. So, no white light. No angel.” Sam said, feeling confident enough to cross the creature off the list at the endless other monsters to blame.

“Has anybody talked to the victims’ families?’ Dean asked the sheriff.

“It’s next on my list.” Jody answered.

“Okay, and you said that they were all part of the same church?” Dean’s question was replied with a nod of the head from Jody. This connection, strong or weak as it might be, was the only one you had going for you as a possible hunting ground of where this monster was picking their victims. It was better than anything. Your lips stretched into a frown when Dean looked over at you. “Ready to get your worship on?”

+ + +

You and the boys decided to change out your clothes meant for posing as federal agents in favor of something more casual. The church all four of your victims seemed the usual run of the mill place of worship. You pretended to play along as the new people in town interested in joining to get a better understanding of how things worked. The woman who helped give you a tour of the place was a little too friendly and squeaky clean for your liking. She smiled in delight when you and Dean introduced yourselves as a happy couple "engaged to be engaged" with his little brother tagging along.

You roamed around the church hand in hand with Dean while Bonnie, your overly peppy tour guide, told you all the things Good Faith church offered to its members and the public. Usual things like Sunday school and charities for the homeless. You decided to have a little fun and play into the whole loving couple when Bonnie mentioned the church was perfect for weddings as well. You smiled at her when she occasionally turned to see you and Dean whispering to each other, acting like a couple of crazy kids in love with a religious ceremony in mind. It wasn't that far off from the truth. You did love Dean, and while you wanted to marry him someday, a church would be the last place you'd choose to do it.

After the tour was complete, the four of you made your way to Bonnie's office where she took a seat at her desk before gesturing for the rest of you to follow with the few chairs she had available. Sam missed out when his brother swiftly snatched the chair next to yours, causing Dean to smirk in victory while the younger man awkwardly looked around to find another seat and pulled it up next to the desk.

"We hope you enjoyed the tour." Bonnie said, the smile she greeted you with felt as if it never left her face. It was starting to make your cheeks hurt at the welcoming disposition she carried on. "Any questions before we get you all registered?"

"Yeah. Uh, look," You pretended to be apprehensive from the subject you were about to approach after she had been so kind to you. "Ms. Futchko—"

"Oh, please, dear." Bonnie quietly laughed at the formalities and corrected to you something more casual, wanting to treat this situation like you were among friends. "Bonnie will do just fine."

"We love the church. We do." You cushioned the strange questions you were about to ask her, deciding to pretend and act as if you were a concerned citizen wondering what you might be getting yourself into. "But...well, we've heard that a few members have gone missing. And while my boyfriend likes to think he's Superman," You flashed a quick smile as you reached out to squeeze Dean's hand before letting it rest there to continue milking the little performance on sharing your fake concerns. "We’ve been talking in private about it. And to be honest…that kind of scares us.”

"Let me assure you, with our increased security, Good Faith has never been safer." Bonnie told you, placing a hand to her chest to try and give all of you a better peace of mind. It seemed she was worried about her fellow churchgoer, just in the way a little too religious person thought was the best form of action. Leaving it up all to the chance God would intervene and save the day. "And those people who have gone missing, well, they are front and center in our prayers."

"What a relief." Dean let out a breath at the reassuring sounding news, making Bonnie's smile return after it disappeared shortly from the change in conversation. "Now, you must have been close to them."

"Well, we do share the A.P.U. bond." Bonnie. Dean pretended to be intrigued at hearing such a thing when he asked more about it. "Our chastity group. ‘Abstinence Purifies Us.’”

You pretended to turn your head to another direction when you scratched your nose, the easiest way to sneak an eye roll of frustration at hearing the new connection to the victims. Out of anything, you should’ve seen the virginity angle coming from where you were.

"Wow." Sam laughed and smiled, faking interest about such a group. "You mind if we sit in on that, maybe see if it's for us?"

“I’m afraid it’s members only. I'm sorry, but it can get pretty personal." Bonnie apologized for the inconvenience after offering so many things for you to join, but it seemed this one was off limits for obvious reasons. You, never being the one to miss an opportunity, jumped to it before either one of the boys could back out.

“Then count us in.” You said, lightly smacking your thigh as you grinned.

"Well, I'll be a squirrel in a skirt." Bonnie softly laughed in delight at hearing your eager enthusiasm to join a group, intidicating to her that the three of you were good Christians. You mirrored her behavior as you smiled over at Dean when he squeezed your hand a little too roughly, wondering what the hell you got yourselves into. "I'll be back in a jiff with the papers."

Bonnie wasted no time jumping up from her seat and heading to another room across the way, allowing you to watch what she was doing. She opened up a filing cabinet and shuffled around some papers to find what she was looking for. Your attention fell back to Dean when you felt him softly smack your arm.

“A chastity group?” Dean asked you, wondering if this was really how you wanted to spend your afternoon. And why you needed to drag him into your plan. You knew he would love to do anything else than listen to a bunch of horny virgins go on about temptations and sins brought on by the world.

"It's not a bad idea." Sam seemed to have agreed with your plan of action, figuring out the same possible pattern you had. If you knew who was in the group, you might have a better chance at saving others from going missing. "If all the members were in A.P.U., then maybe whatever took them is stalking virgins."

"And that Slim guy said he thought he saw fire." Dean added another little detail that went together with the virginity part. Something you've dealt with before. "So, what are you guys thinking, dragons?"

You never got the chance to finish the conversation when you saw Bonnie return back with the forms in hand. You cleared your throat and went back to acting casual as if that’s what you had been doing the entire time she was gone during the short period of time. You forced yourself to smile again when she handed you over a clipboard with a piece of paper attached.

"You can just sign here, and your purification can begin." Bonnie instructed you, letting you glance down at the piece of paper. You read the title of the paper and slowly your expression fell as to what you were about to promise. Something you lost several years ago. You bit your bottom lip when Sam mentioned the pledge, only to be taken by someone who had never had intercourse before. "It's a commitment to your virginity."

"I don't think we can really un-ring that bell." Dean thought he was funny with the innocent sounding joke, deciding to humor himself. Bonnie, however, stared at the man with a blank expression. It hadn't dawned on her just yet why you couldn't sign right away. "You know what I mean?"

A moment of silence fell across the room as Dean's smile faded away when Bonnie continued to stare at the man with eyes too wide for his personal comfort. Slowly, the wheels in her head started turning, making her realize the sins you've committed. "Oh. I see." Bonnie's gaze quickly darted away from you and Dean specifically, as if she was trying to hide her disappointment. However, like the good Chrisitan that she was, the woman offered you a chance at redemption. "Well...if you just ask for God's forgiveness for your sins and make a new vow of chastity, well, then you'll be born again as a virgin in His eyes."

"So, you just hit the 'virginity do-over' button, and all is good with the man upstairs?" Dean's question meant to come off as sincere and curious, but he had a way of coming off a little igorent at times. Sometimes he didn't understand the kind of people he was dealing with and how to adapt.

"It's not a button." Bonnie corrected the man. Her tone of voice fell into a softer, and yet slightly colder one as she defended her personal views in a way to make him better understand. "And...this isn't just a piece of paper. I mean, this is your clean slate, your chance to be a virgin until marriage. Isn't that something you want? To be pure for each other until your wedding night, the way God intended?”

You raised your brow slightly from the way Bonnie tried to guilt trip you for doing something thought of as a sin. Premarital sex was the least horrible thing someone could do. However, just to get yourself into this damn group, you decided to pretend and feel remorseful for a second. You looked over to Dean, the both of you nodding your head and shared matching smiles. "Well, you had me at 'clean slate.' Right, sweetheart?" Dean asked you, clicking his pen to be the first one to sign. "Let's do this."

You and the boys signed your names on the pledge and handed over the clipboards back to Bonnie's awaiting hands. She glanced down at the names you scribbled down and smiled in delight. "Congratulations Sam and Dean Winchester, and Y/N Y/L/N. You are all virgins."

You found yourself letting out a quiet laugh at hearing something you hadn't heard in a while. Sam faked his enthusiasm while Dean took it a smidge too far, grinning a little too wide and seeming excited at the news. At least making a show out of it for Bonnie. You knew one thing for certain: this was going to be one interesting afternoon.

Rewrite Taglist:

@deansquirreljerkwinchester // @everything-i-tried-was-taken // @starswirlblitz // @supernaturalismydrug // @we-are-band-sexuals // @angiewinchestercas // @kaylinfayezink // @owhatshername1 // @kgbrenner // @cleo-is-my-doggy // @eeyore1988 // @dakota-dream // @lilylovelyxo // @timetravelingginger // @holahellohialoha // @quicksilver123456 // @natashacamillas //@lexi-anastasia //@kaylinfayezink // @deanwnchstr @albot-eh // @rashinyx2002 // @shellybeans // @icantfindacreativeurl // @becs-bunker // @oreosatmidnight // @bands-and-shietz // @fabulousmustachesonapolarbear // @clarewinchester // @releasethekracko // @alex-zeppelin // @mega-mrs-dean-winchester // @theskytraveler // @notmoose94 //@assassinofmasyaf // @caswinchester2000 // @savannah-m-99 // @sunlight-dean // @strayrosesbloom // @that-slytherin-over-there // @1000roughdrafts // @its-medeanwinchester // @simplyhemmings // @dream-believe-and-love // @that-winged-rat // @romanovanoffsstuff // @underthestarrsss // @lady-elena-adeline

Message me if you would like to be added!

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itmighthavebeenintentional · 3 years

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We've Got Tonight - Ch 3

Summary: “It’s not your job to do this, Andy. You make people happy. I was in the diner all of ten minutes, and you knew exactly how to get me to smile. You do normal, real things like garden and sing karaoke. Saving the world is my job, Sam’s job. Sometimes it’s even Cas’s job, but it’s not yours.”

Inspired by Bob Seger’s “We’ve Got Tonight”

Warnings: Major Character Death, More Major Character Deaths (sort of?), higher than show level violence, blood, light smutting, language, demons, apocalypse, inferred suicide, cult activity.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Author’s Note: This story is set hazily around season 8. Just squint a little, and it’ll settle in somewhere. I wrote this story after certain big revelations in the show, but before other big ones; you’ll most likely be able to tell which. I play with time a bit in the story itself, so if things seem out of order, they are. Hopefully, by the end, all the pieces will fit together.

What the hell, let’s give it a shot.

Image and major edits by the incomparable @there-must-be-a-lock . Heavy editing and cheering by @thoughtslikeaminefield . Thank you both so much.

Word Count: Ch 3 - 1637

In case you missed it: Chapter 2 ItMightHaveBeenintentional’s Masterlist

...

We’ve Got Tonight

Chapter 3

One month is not enough time to get used to nights in the bunker, she thinks as she stares at the back of Dean’s door. It’s too sterile, too unnatural, with the quiet permeating every crevice and recess.

There must be some sort of muffling spell or noise cancellation technology… or maybe just really good insulation. She’s used to the chatter of customers, the ding of the door chime, the clatter of plates, and the sloshing of the dishwasher. She’s never had to listen to herself think this much before, and she freely admits she is not a fan.

It’s been about four hours since Dean stormed out. “I’m done,” he said, but she doubts she’ll have to wait much longer. Those last words he shouted before Castiel came in, the way he gripped her and she had to force herself not to cling right back, tells her they aren’t finished, either with their argument or each other.

Muffled footsteps, the only sound besides her heart beat and non-stop internal monologue, let her know moments before the doorknob turns that Dean is back. The door swings open, not with the angry force she’s expecting, but with the same weary resignation that bows his shoulders as he steps into his room and shrugs off his jacket.

His eyes meet hers for an eternity, then he deliberately takes two more steps forward and closes the door firmly behind him.

She’s in his arms without a moment’s hesitation, her mouth on his, devouring him with every bit of desperation she possesses. He tastes of scotch, and she can picture him sitting despondently at the local watering hole, glaring balefully at a single glass of liquor for hours.

His arms constrict automatically until she’s equally breathless from his embrace as she is from the kiss. Just when she thinks he may have to physically hold her up, Dean pulls away just far enough to stare hard into her eyes, his expression daring her to challenge his next words.

“We are not done talking. You are going to tell me every detail of your deal, whether you like it or not. And don’t think for a second I’m going to let you go through with it. Choices be damned, Andy, this isn’t just about you anymore, and you know it.”

She refrains from telling him how much of a dad vibe he’s giving off as she shoves his flannel from his shoulders and pulls his face back to hers, clenching a handful of his t-shirt in a death grip.

Neither of them is gentle as they remove clothing and stagger their way to his bed; she knows they don’t have the time to be, and he suspects as much but doesn’t say so aloud. Neither is willing to ruin their precious remaining moments together by bringing up something as distasteful as reality. Nails score flesh, fingers bruise limbs, even their lips come away with faint traces of blood from accidental clashes with teeth.

“How long?” he rasps, his lips ghosting over her sternum. Her nails dredge shallow furrows across the backs of his thighs as he pulls back before thrusting hard, driving her into his mattress. “How long have we got?”

She tugs his mouth down to her breast, hissing as his teeth scrape and tug. Her fingers thread into his hair, holding him in place, silently willing him to let the subject go. She can’t answer him. She’s had a month with him, and while she’d rather have something closer to a lifetime, all she’s asking now is two more uninterrupted, untainted hours.

If she tells him, then the shortness of their time becomes real, everything becomes devastatingly real. Here in the bunker that is far too quiet for her own peace of mind, she can pretend the outside world and all it’s insane occultists and apocalypses and demons and deals don’t exist. She can pretend it’s just her and Dean, and nothing else bad is waiting on the other side of the horizon.

And he’d try to stop her. And probably succeed. So, no. She can’t tell him.

It’s some time before both of them are sated enough to lie relatively still. She keeps her back to him, knowing if she looks in his eyes she is liable to spill every bit of information she has left, and she does not want a repeat of the scene from earlier. Once was more than enough.

“I’m waiting, Andy.”

We all have to learn to live with disappointment, hun, she thinks. Aloud, she sighs and pushes herself back until her shoulder blades press against his chest. She’s been cold since they first brought her to the bunker, and his warmth is almost enough to make her forget that she’s chilled to her marrow. She shivers, forcing a partition up in her mind to keep out thoughts of her impending departure. She’s going to wait until he’s asleep, then head out to make the last rendezvous.

Sunrise, Dean, she thinks, despite her best efforts. I’ve got til sunrise. We’ve got less than that.

Luckily, she’s had enough caffeine to give a draft horse the shakes, and he’s running on three hours sleep for the last couple of days, so he should pass out pretty soon. The last thing she needs is the infamous Winchester Interference with her plans.

With the confidence that comes from knowing she’s right at the end of everything, Andy rolls over and pulls Dean’s head down so his cheek rests between her breasts, cradling him like a child and stroking his hair just as she’s longed to do since he strolled into her diner and winked at her over a stack of pancakes. He doesn’t protest, doesn’t even pretend to resist, instead nuzzling deeper in her embrace, and that’s when she really knows she’s wounded him far more deeply than she should have been capable.

“It was only supposed to be a fling,” she remarks to the top of his head as she runs her nails over the base of his skull. He shivers, pulling the blanket over them up to his chin and sliding his arms around her waist. His shoulder lies on her stomach, its weight sitting comfortably against her belly. “The first time I met you, you declared your love for me because I brought you bacon, for God’s sake. At four in the afternoon. You were supposed to be a good time, Dean, one good night, and then ride on out of town like a good boy.”

“You’d already be dead if you hadn’t given me your number,” he points out. For once, his lascivious nature is dormant, and he doesn’t so much as sneak a stray lick or grope, despite his optimal position. She strokes her thumb down the side of his jaw, scrubbing over several days’ worth of stubble that covers his cheeks. He turns his face into her touch, sliding his nose against the sensitive skin under her breast, and then it’s her turn to shiver.

“Andy, before you do anything stupid, anything else stupid, I need to tell you...I need you to know that I...”

“No, you don’t,” she chides, cutting him off before he can choke out any more ill-advised words. She can’t hear them right now, they would break down every barrier and barricade she’s constructed to hold herself together for these last hours. And, anyway, he can’t possibly mean them. They barely know each other. “But you could. I think both of us might have, eventually. So, we have that, at least.”

Her ribs creak at the sudden tightening of his grip, and she squirms until he relents enough to allow her breathing to return to normal.

“It’s not your job to do this, Andy. You make people happy. I was in the diner all of ten minutes, and you knew exactly how to get me to smile. You do normal, real things like garden and sing karaoke. Saving the world is my job, Sam’s job. Sometimes it’s even Cas’s job, but it’s not yours.”

His words end on something that she would never in a thousand years tell him sounds like a crack. She silently strokes the velvety hairs on the back of his neck, waiting for him to finish clearing his throat.

“Don’t try to be the hero; it never works out for anyone involved, even the people you’re trying to save.”

“Don’t start with me, Dean Winchester. Here we are, having a nice moment, and I will not let you ruin the time we have left with arbitrary things like depth and honesty.”

The air system hisses soothingly in the background, but she won’t let herself be soothed. This time left is for him, she’s not fooling herself about that any longer. What does she have left but Dean, anyway? She’s got three, four hours left at the most, and this is how she chooses to spend them.

She rolls once more, pulling Dean underneath her until she lies atop him, flush from collarbone to ankles. He watches her, his face soft and open for once, golden and warm in the dim light of the little bedside lamp. His hands move slowly, reverently, to glide over the curve of her jaw and mouth, and she can feel the faint tremors that run through his hands. She kisses his fingers one at a time before lifting her eyes to his.

“No, you don’t,” she repeats, “But you could.” The world needs the Winchesters around a hell of a lot more than it needs her. And while she might make people happy, saving people and hunting things is the Winchesters’ family business. This is her only chance to make sure they and the world stick around long enough for that to keep happening. ...

Chapter 4

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mkstrigidae · 3 years

Text

Current WIPs and Fic Concepts

I promised I would do this yesterday, and then I forgot!!! (I was very sleep deprived). Anyways, here are a bunch of the WIP premises that I have in my 'unfinished drafts' folder. Most have at least a few pages written for them, but I love them all! ☺️💕

- A Santa Clarita Diet AU (Jonsa) Takes place in sunny southern California, where a shitty dinner at a mediocre restaurant turns into a huge problem for Jon and Sansa when Sansa's heart stops beating. Although she seems fine, Jon is flabbergasted several days later as he watches his wife- who alphabetizes their pantry and refuses to let anyone wear shoes in the house- rip the throat out of one of the sleazy new partners at their law firm, eating half of him before anyone processes what's going on. Hilarity ensues as Sansa's inhibitions and filter disappear, Arya ropes an extremely confused Gendry into helping figure out what the hell is going on just because he moderates the zombie forum on reddit, and Jon tries to deal with the fact that the woman he loves more than anything is now a humanitarian. He really could use a drink. (This one is actually mostly complete, but i need to refine a few things- i really love it. It's as gory and irreverent as the show, so viewer discretion advised, but it's a BLAST to write).

- A Thor/MCU AU (Jonsa, Steve Rogers/Sansa)- Asgardian prince Aegon is banished to Midgard after one too many arrogant decisions, and is promptly hit by a van containing Dr. Sansa Stark, Dr. Barristan Selmy, and Margaery Tyrell- two astrophysicists studying wormholes and Sansa's best friend and pseudo-intern. Marg yells at him, he yells back, Sansa tases him, and Barristan didn't sign up for the kind of heavy lifting that getting a 200+ pound slab of muscle into the back of a van takes. And then Aegon's younger brother, Jon, shows up, in the middle of an identity crisis because, apparently, he's adopted. He wasn't intending to stay, but he's rather drawn to Dr. Stark and her brilliance, and against her better judgement, she starts to trust him, and maybe even like him. This story is in about three parts so far- the first is based on 'Thor' and the second on 'The Avengers' and are fully Jonsa, and the third started as a family bonding story between the Stark kids and Tony (Ned and Tony are second cousins, and Ned was really supportive of Tony in rehab without expecting anything in return), and accidentally turned into a Steve Rogers/Sansa Stark story, which is a pairing i am HERE for. A lot of this one is written, but it needs some fill in before publishing, although it's one of my favorites that i've written to go back and actually read.

- A Star Wars AU (Jonsa) where Sansa and Arya are Alderaanian princesses who are off planet when Alderaan is destroyed- Sansa as a senator and Arya as a pilot, both working for the rebellion, and jon is a smuggler who does not know how all of these people got on his ship and why two princesses are sassing him. His copilot, Tormund (yes he's a wookie), thinks it is hilarious. I started this one just the other day, and it's already thirty pages long, most of them involving Sansa and Arya sassing people. Dany is a leader in the rebellion, Roose Bolton is the emperor, and Barbrey Dustin is a disgruntled former jedi trying to live in peace on a remote planet until another Stark crashes into her life and harangues her into teaching again.

- A witches/magic AU (Jonsa) where the Starks run an apothecary and spellcasting supplies shop. Jon had been completely in the dark about magic before his mother confessed to being born into a family of witches. He finds himself traveling to her hometown, trying to understand her world more clearly, and what it means for him. On the way, he develops something of a crush on the red-headed shop clerk who brews the best headache potions in town. Featuring lots of magical shenanigans, this is one of my favorites in the folder :)

- A 24 hour diner AU (Jonsa) where Jon is a local mob boss, and Sansa works the late shift at Seaworth's diner to buy textbooks for the PhD she's working on in botany. Sansa's running from memories, and Jon has a soft spot for the red-headed waitress who always remembers how he likes his coffee.

- An East of the Sun, West of the Moon AU!!! (Jonsa) This is one of my fav fairy tales, and of course i couldn't resist Jon as a direwolf striking a deal with the starks!

- A Roomates AU (Jonsa)- Arya, Jon, Tormund, and Sam have been renting the same house together off Winterfell's campus for years- but when Sam moves in with his girlfriend, they need one more person on the lease. Sansa, about to relocate to Winterfell for grad school, finds out that her boyfriend has been cheating on her and that her housing plans have fallen through, all on the same day. Needless to say, she's a bit upset when she calls Arya to relay the news. There's a simple solution here, if Arya and Tormund can stop teasing Jon about his crush for five minutes. (any excuse to write tormund and arya roasting jon, tbh).

- A Fae AU (Jonsa)- When Sansa, a baker living in the city, washes her face in an enchanted spring on a camping trip, she gains the sight as a result. Suddenly able to see the fae underworld all around her is disorienting and terrifying. Sansa tries to conceal it- afraid of what might happen if the fae around her know that she can see them- but slips up, and catches the attention of Jon Snow- one of the lords of the unseelie court.

- A nuclear winter wasteland AU (Jonsa)- (?? I don't even know how to describe this premise, haha) where the Starks are living and running the Free Winterfell settlement in Siberia after a worldwide nuclear meltdown. Before the fallout, Sansa was one of the world's preeminent researchers in plant genetics and pathology, and works at the settlement to create newer, disease and radiation resistant crops to distribute for free to other settlements, aiming to break up the monopoly that Lannister Corp has on the market. Jon is a scavenger, searching throughout Siberia for his sister Rhae who disappeared several years previously. When he runs across Arya Starkovna, helping her fight off another band of radiation ravaged scavengers is just instinct- he doesn't think twice about it. In thanks, she brings him to the Winterfell settlement, where her brother Robb offers Jon sanctuary and resources, in exchange for serving as a bodyguard for Sansa when she travels to other settlements. Sansa is not particularly thrilled by this arrangement, but given that multiple parties seem to want her dead, she doesn't have much of a choice but to accept his company.

- A reincarnation AU (Jonsa)- of sorts. Robb is an archaeologist who finds a strange set of runes at a site up north, and immediately calls in Jon Snow- a historian and expert in said ancient language, as well as an old university friend of Robb's. When he arrives though, Robb shows him their most valuable finds- two mysterious ice blocks, with what appear to be perfectly preserved bodies from over a thousand years ago. No one could ever have imagined that either of them were still alive, but when the ice melts, revealing two very alive girls, the entire crew is instantly buried in NDAs, and given an assignment from the Westerosi government to figure out what the hell was going on. Sansa and Arya wake up, extremely confused about the world they live in, trying to adapt and mourning all that they've lost, even as the people around them wear familiar faces.

- Soulmates AU (Jonsa)- (Yes, another one, I love this dumb trope) Trauma surgeon and medical resident Sansa Stark is having a very bad day, and ends up meeting her soulmate during what she thinks is a mugging gone wrong. Fortunately, he’s not the one mugging her, just an intervening bystander, but she ends up slightly shot nonetheless. Sansa’s fretting about bleeding on the upholstery in his car, but Jon is a bit more worried about her injuries than the blood stains. He’s a bit confused when she threatens him if he takes her to a specific hospital, nearly has a nervous breakdown when she insists on doing her own triage, and is very charmed when she insists on ice cream after taking pain meds at the hospital. On Sansa’s part, she’s a little less concerned about being shot, and a bit more concerned about whatever weird first impression she’s making to her soulmate while high as a kite on pain pills. (this one just needs some tweaking to be postable- I'm not sure if it's going to be a oneshot or a series, but i love what I have already)

- A Demon/Archivist AU (Jonsa)- where Sansa works in the university's historical archives in Oldtown, and is learning to restore old texts with her fellow student and friend, Alleras (Trans Sarella is an amazing concept). When Joffrey Baratheon shows up with a pile of old books from his family's library to donate, Sansa is eager to get away from his sleaze, and accidentally takes one of the books home with her in her rush to leave. Unbeknownst to her, it's more than it appears, and when she leaves it open overnight, she accidentally summons forth Jon- an ancient, powerful, and extremely annoyed demon who is under a curse, and now hers to command. As Jon and Sansa try to get used to this new normal, the Lannisters (unaware that Joffrey had donated the tome) try desperately to find the book and it's owner, wanting Jon's power for themselves, and putting Sansa in considerable danger unless she can figure out how to break Jon's curse. Fortunately, she's a pretty good researcher, even if Jon is initially a bit of a grump. (This is based on a total wish-fulfillment mary-sue type premise for something I wrote when I was thirteen, and I revisited it and wanted to see what it would look like if i took it very seriously, and i am really enjoying it so far. It's a love letter to the terrible, heartfelt writing i was doing in middle school that created the foundations for my writing today, and so much fun).

The one that I am MOST excited about though:

- A Pacific Rim AU!!!! (Ned/Cat, Gendrya, Braime, Sansa/Jon Umber)-Twins Sansa and Robb Stark have always been completely in tune with each other, and when your parents are Jaeger pilots and your mother invented the neural handshake, what option is there but the Jaeger academy? Sansa studies to be an engineer, but ends up copiloting the Jaeger 'Winter Wolf' with her twin brother, after they lose Ned Stark to cancer. When Robb is ripped out of the conn-pod and killed by a kaiju while he's still connected to Sansa, she barely manages to kill the creature before stumbling back to shore, traumatized, grieving, and swearing that she'll never pilot again.

Unfortunately, the Kaiju don't stop just because Sansa does, and when the end of the world is imminent, Marshall Catelyn Stark orders both her daughter and former pilot Jaime Lannister (who lost his twin and copilot, Cersei, several years previously) back to Hong Kong for one final stand. Forced to face both her demons and an irate Arya, furious that Sansa had abandoned the rest of them after Robb's death, Sansa and Arya have to figure out how to pilot Winter Wolf together before the apocalypse comes for them all.

Featuring Marshall Catelyn Stark (commander of the Hong Kong Shatterdome, inventor of the neural handshake, former Jaeger pilot, and BAMF), Sansa x Jon Umber (Yes i know it's a rare pair but i've always kind of loved the idea of them, even though we know so little about him), Kaiju parts dealer and smuggler Petyr Baelish, bickering kaiju biologist Dany and theoretical mathematician Jon Snow, LOCCENT officer Theon, lots of snark, lots of angst and heartfelt conversations, and a weird friendship between snarky-grieving-asshole Jaime Lannister and kind-quiet-grieving Sansa Stark, who are the only two people in the world who know what it's like to lose a copilot and a twin in the drift.

Thanks for reading guys!! There are more, but some of them I just don't know how to explain quite yet, haha. I'd love to hear what you guys think about these!

#my writing #fanfics #fanfic wip #jonsa #jonsa fic

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magics-protector · 4 years

Text

The Mate of the Trickster

Pairing: Gabriel x HalfDragon!Reader

Warnings/Notes: none really, kind of a Soulmate AU i guess

Summary: Following the events of 13x17, Gabriel, with the aid of Ketch, breaks free from Asmodeus’ hold. However, there is an even bigger problem he faces: his girlfriend, who thinks he’s dead.

It was kind of relieving for Gabriel; watching Asmodeus beat the crap out of someone else for a change.

Yet, it was also terrifying, to say the least.

Once Asmodeus had finished beating Ketch to a pulp, he monologued about them being the same, typical villain style, and how Ketch belonged to him before leaving the two men alone.

All Gabriel could do was hope that Asmodeus didn't return for a while and that, if he did, that he wasn't next to face the demon prince’s wrath.

Ketch was hunched against a pillar across from Gabriel's cell, pulling what remained of a bloody, broken tooth from his mouth. He leaned over to his left, moaning in pain and spitting out blood, he glanced up and saw Gabriel staring wide-eyed at him.

"What are you looking at?" He grumbled. "If I had half your power, I'd..." Ketch looked away in thought and then looked around. "In fact..." He said.

Ketch stood up and went straight to Gabriel's cage, causing Gabriel to shrink back away from the bars.

"I believe it's time to go." Ketch grasped the bottom part of the bars and lifted, opening the cell. He leaned down and looked at Gabriel. "Consider this a rescue." He turned around and went to the lockers that Asmodeus kept Gabriel's archangel blade and went back to Gabriel, who huddled further into the corner, whimpering.

"Come on, you. Come on!" Ketch beckoned Gabriel towards him, but got no compliance. Ketch, done with Gabriel’s attitude to the situation, then grabbed the archangel’s ankle and pulled him out of the cell, while Gabriel frantically resisted.

Ketch pulled Gabriel through the hallway and said, "This would all go so much faster if you just flapped your bloody wings."

They turned the corner and ran into a Demon, whom Ketch killed with the blade. He turned back to Gabriel, "Where were we?", grabbed his arm, pulling him along, Gabriel still struggled.

"Would you calm down?" Ketch snapped. "I'm taking you to somewhere safe. To the Winchesters. You remember them, right?"

Gabriel struggled some more.

"They're much different from when you saw them last, I assure you. Now that they've got that dragon-woman back with them."

Gabriel stopped struggling. She was with the Winchesters and, more importantly, still alive. Knowing that made him feel somewhat better.

Thoughts raced around his mind as Ketch pulled him along; was she alright? Did she remember him? Would she forgive him?

He met her back when he was pretending to be that university janitor. He knew she was his from the moment he laid eyes on her; her beautiful face, her hair, god her eyes. He fell in love then and there, but she wouldn’t give in without a fight. He knew she knew what he was to her but her stubbornness had pulled her away from him, her love for the men she called family and what he had done to them made for a rocky relationship. But, all the tension and false hatred came to a stunning conclusion after a very complicated argument, which led to a night that would put Casa Erotica to shame.

For years, they hid their relationship from the two hunters she called 'the brothers she never wanted but was glad to have' and Heaven, seeing as an archangel and a human-dragon hybrid being together would upset a lot of people up there. And it did, immensely.

When the boys found out, shit hit the fan, but they had come to accept it with great difficulty, after seeing how happy he made her.

When he 'died', he knew it would kill her inside but everything he did was to protect her. She wasn't there that night, Gabriel and the Winchesters agreed on that.

She would be a great asset to have, but Lucifer could have used or hurt her and the three of them couldn't stand that. She meant too much to all of them.

As Ketch led them to the exit of Asmodeus’ stronghold, Gabriel could only hope and pray that she could forgive him.

•••••••

"Man, I can't believe you almost became an inter-dimensional booty-call, Dean." Y/N laughed as she and the Winchester brothers walked down the steps of the bunker.

Dean chuckled. "That's something I never thought would happen."

"Well." Sam said as they plopped their bags on the table. "We have the Seal. Right? So, all we need now is an archangel, and we're set."

Y/N frowned, sadly, her thoughts went back to Gabriel. How she missed him.

"Sure, that sounds easy." Dean grumbled.

Y/N looked over to the library and put her arms out in front of her, setting them ablaze.

Sam and Dean drew their guns at Ketch, who stood in the library entrance with his arms up in surrender. "Wait." Ketch said. "I come in peace."

"Yeah, right." Y/N growled.

"And I brought you a gift." He leaned down and from behind the wall, pulled Gabriel out into the open.

Y/N's eyes widened and her flames extinguished. "Gabriel?" She asked, her voice cracked.

He looked at her with wide eyes.

She took a few long strides over to where Ketch placed Gabriel down onto a chair and placed her hand on his cheek, her full attention on the broken angel. "Gabe..." Her eyes watered. She leaned forward enough for him to place his head on her chest. Her mood shifted quickly as she glared up at Ketch. "What did you do to him?" She growled at him, her eyes glowing white.

Ketch flinched back in fear, he raised his arms up to shield himself. "Not me. Asmodeus. The Prince was holding him prisoner until I liberated the poor man. And I understand you may need an archangel for a spell, perhaps."

Sam and Dean looked at one another before they lowered their guns slightly.

"Well, what luck." Ketch mused.

"We need his grace." Sam said.

That one word seemed to set Gabriel off. He started to panic and shake, shrieking out which was muffled by the stitches that sealed his mouth. Y/N held his shoulders and shushed him. "Gabe, Gabe. It's ok. Shh, shh."

When Gabriel had settled, Ketch pulled out a vial of grace from his pocket and then an archangel blade.

"Why would you..." Sam thought for a second. "What's the catch? What do you want?" He demanded, his voice dry.

"Protection. From Asmodeus."

"The one you're working for?" Y/N sneered at Ketch while holding Gabriel's head lightly against her chest, his chest still heaving with fear.

"Was working for?" Ketch replied. "But when he finds out that I stole his prize milk cow, well, I imagine that he'll hunt me to the ends of the Earth. So, this is the only safe place I know." He looked around the war room.

"What? Do you think you're just gonna move in?" Sam asked.

The corners of Ketch’s mouth perked up before falling back down. “Dibs on the top bunk?" Ketch jested.

"No." Sam said, while Dean replied with “Deal.”

"What?" Sam looked to Dean.

"Look, I don't know what the hell's going on here. But if this helps up get Mom back, helps us get Jack back, then... sure. Whatever you want." Dean threw his gun on the table.

••••••••

Y/N sat as still as she could while she tried to remove the stitches over Gabriel's mouth, apologizing everytime he whimpered and flinched. It killed her inside every time he flinched and whined.

When she finished, she set the knife down and ran her hands delicately over his cheeks, placing a kiss on his forehead, ignoring the dried and fresh blood.

"All right, let's do this." Dean walked in with a bag full of stuff and supplies for the spell, Sam following him closely.

"Well, shouldn't we wait?" Sam asked, unsure.

"Wait? Why?" Dean asked. "We got everything we need. Everything else is just burning daylight. Come on. Let's open this door."

Sam looked to Y/N and she looked back at him with a look of unsurity.

“All right." Sam grumbled. "I'll grab my gear."

"Uhhh...." Dean stopped Sam. "Hold on. I'm heading in alone."

Sam and Y/N looked to Dean with shocked faces.

"What?" Y/N asked.

"Look, we got a busted up archangel here. And who the hell knows what else? Okay? Somebody's gotta stay here just in case."

"And I'm coming with you." Ketch said, walking over to the group. "As I said, Asmodeus will be hunting me to the ends of the Earth, so it's better if I'm not on Earth."

"It's not much better over there." Y/N said. "You know it's a war zone, right?"

"Won't be my first, shan't be my last. Hmm?"

"Fine." Dean said.

"Fine?" Sam asked, offendedly. "So you want Ketch to go and not me?"

"I don't care if he dies. Hell, I'm kind of rootin' for it."

"Still, you can't--"

"No, I have to. It's something that's been over there before to open up the right door, so that's either you, me, or Y/N and I sure as hell know she's not going anywhere."

"Damn right, I'm not." Y/N said, as she held Gabriel close, his head nuzzled into her neck.

"So I'm gonna go." Dean said. "And if something happens to me, if -- if time runs out, then I need you two to come and save me and save Mom and save whoever else, okay?"

Sam argued, "It's safer if we go together."

"Oh, there's no such thing as safe over there. You know that. I know you don't like this, okay? I don't expect you to. This is the way it's gonna be."

Sam, reluctantly, agreed after a few minutes and started to conduct the spell. Dean put a piece of his hair in the concoction, Sam used the Seal they recieved and the portal opened. Dean and Ketch suited up and prepared to enter the vortex.

"Dean." Y/N called.

He turned to her.

"Good luck." She smiled warmly.

Dean smiled and nodded back and the two men entered the portal.

•••••••••

After Dean and Ketch left, Sam and Y/N moved Gabriel to Y/N's room, where he could find comfort, and Sam left to grab some food.

Gabriel sat on their, well her, bed but now that he was back she assumed he’d stay there with her, his hands clasped with his knees pulled tight against his chest. Y/N sat across from him, staring at his worn-down face.

She wanted answers; why he left her, what happened to him, but her questions would not help the situation any further so she stayed silent.

With a low breathe, and the hope of getting some reaction out of him, she stood up and went towards the door, to find Sam, when Gabriel's hand sprung out and grabbed her wrist and he pulled her in, putting his arm around her midsection and holding her tight against his chest, his face pressed into her hair, pushing through to reach her neck.

She didn't move, it had been so long since she had even seen him, let alone touched him, so she savoured this moment before he let go and jolted to the corner of the room.

Y/N looked to him in confusion when she heard Sam and Cas' voices in the hall.

The door opened and the two men walked in.

"Cas." Y/N acknowledge the other man.

"Y/N." He greeted. He looked down to Gabriel, who was curled in the corner. "You didn't tell me it was this bad."

"Yeah, well, years of isolation and torture and Asmodeus draining his grace. Come here. Help me out." Sam walked slowly over to the dresser by the wall and placed the food tray on top of it, Cas walking slowly behind him.

"Hey, Gabriel." Sam said, softly and quietly. He placed a gentle hand on Gabriel's shoulder and within a second, Gabriel jolted.

The two men calmly and gently moved Gabriel back to the bed where he went back into his fetal position. Y/N shifted back, moving to sit beside where Cas stood, just far enough to not spook Gabriel but to also be of comfort.

Sam tried to remind Gabriel of the video he sent them but it didn't work, he remained silent.

The boys then tried to get Gabriel to take some of his old grace back but he fought against it, he pushed the two men away and bolted for the other corner of the room.

Y/N was heartbroken at the sight.

•••••••••••

Since Gabriel was in her room, Sam let Y/N use his room for some rest.

When she woke up, she went back to her room and found Gabriel sitting criss-cross on her bed with an empty vial while Sam and Cas stood in front of him. She once again felt a stronger pull than she felt when he arrived. She walked further into the room and he looked up to her, offering her a vague smile and his arms raised a bit. She smiled and sat down in front of him, he pulled her into his arms and held her close.

But something was off when he let out a brief little growl that only she had heard, but then she remembered that angels can get particularly territorial when it comes to soulmates, and she had been sleeping in Sam’s room. She let out a small giggle and kissed the crown of her angel’s head.

Then, Sam's phone buzzed and, within seconds, he answered, putting it on speaker.

"Hello?"

"Samuel." Asmodeus' voice said through the phone and Gabriel jumped back slightly, keeping a hand on Y/N, looking at Sam. "I hope you're having a pleasant day. It's come to my attention you boys have something that belongs to me and I'd like it back."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Sam said.

"Oh, I believe you do. And I'm-a give you one chance to return him to me. No harm, no foul."

"I'm hanging up." Sam said.

"Do not hang up on me. Gabriel is of no use to you in his current condition. Should you choose to resist me, I will have no choice but to take him by force."

Gabriel started to breathe heavy with fear.

"I will reduce you and that sad little bunker of yours to ashes. You got 10 minutes to decide. Now you can hang up."

The call ended with everyone on edge. Y/N looked back to Gabriel and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"He's not coming anywhere near here. I'll kill him first." She growled lowly, it was as though she was telling herself that. The only one to hear her was Gabriel, who shrunk closer to her.

••••••••••

Gabriel sat on the bed, rubbing his temples, while Y/N rubbed his back.

Sam came running back to the room after he left to touch up all the wards in the entire bunker. "All right, I did what I could to help the bunker's warding but who knows if it's enough. How's he?"

"I don't know." Cas mumbled and Y/N just shrugged her shoulders, doing her best to comfort the anxious angel.

Gabriel stopped rubbing his temples when the lights went out and the emergency lights and sirens went on.

Everyone looked around frantically and Sam and Cas ran off.

Y/N stood up and went to run when Gabriel caught her wrist with both of his hands, repeating 'no' over and over again. She looked back to see him shaking his head frantically. She leaned down, placed a gentle kiss on his lips, and said, "I'll be back." She pulled her hand out of his grasp and ran out the door.

She caught up with the boys, her hands ignited with a white flame while Sam had his gun and Cas with his angel blade.

They made their way, cautiously, to the war room when three Demons snuck up behind them.

Each one of them was preoccupied with a demon.

Y/N placed her hand on the Demon's stomach and a white flame engulfed it's body as it screamed in pain. She stood back and let the demon fall when she was forced back with Sam and Cas. She looked up and saw Asmodeus.

"You're warding wasn't designed for the likes of me, Samuel. I've come to claim what's mine."

That's when two demons entered carrying Gabriel.

Asmodeus walked up to Gabriel with a wicked smirk.

"Oh, I've missed you, boy." He said. "I'm-a have to punish you rather severely, I'm afraid."

Gabriel looked up in fear and struggled as the demons led him away.

"You stay away from him, you sick son of a bitch!” Y/N growled, as she fought whatever power Asmodeus used to hold them to the wall.

"Y/N , stop!" Cas and Sam begged as she rose to her feet.

Asmodeus turned to her. “Ah, so this must be the Archangel's soulmate. The all powerful Dragon."

Her hands lit up with white fire. "I'm not letting you take him away from me." She snarled.

"Oh, I'm-a afraid I am, my dear. Maybe I'll take you with me. Give the angel a reason to comply while I keep a blade against your gut." He then grabbed her throat and lifted her in the air, her efforts with her magic unsuccessful.

Drowning out Sam and Cas' cries of protest, Asmodeus squeezed her neck tighter. "But, then-a-gain, it is best just to kill you now. You won't be a problem later on."

Y/N scratched at Asmodeus' arm, drawing blood from underneath the white cloth, when she gasped out, "Gabriel."

That's when both Demons were flung off the balcony and Gabriel stood, clutching the railing.

Asmodeus looked to him in shock. "Gabriel! What are you doin', son? You know too well what I can do to you. I broke you!"

Gabriel looked up at Asmodeus with the look of a feral animal. A beaten, broken and angry feral animal.

He looked upon the man who tortured him for years now and what he sees is the horrible image of that man with his hands on his soulmate. Harming the one thing in their tiny little universe that belonged to him and him alone. That would be enough to drive a man insane.

Asmodeus was touching what was Gabriel's and now, he was going to kill him for it.

"You're too weak!" Gabriel stood tall, his injuries gone and the blood cleaned, his wings spread out wide as sort of a way to assert his dominance.

Asmodeus dropped Y/N onto the ground and threw a ball of grace at Gabriel, which he deflected it with ease.

"Not anymore. Oh, by the way,"

Y/N looked up to Gabriel with a smile, years of unshed tears filling her eyes.

"I always hated that dumbass suit." Gabriel's eyes glowed and he pushed his hand out.

Asmodeus slowly became engulfed in flames and, while screaming in agony, quickly disappeared into a pile of nothing.

The three on the ground looked up to Gabriel and Y/N smiled. She placed her arms under her and started to lift when suddenly, she was lifted of the ground and into the arms on Gabriel. The familiar warmth of his body filling that large void in her heart.

"You're back." She whispered, tears streaming down her face. “You’re back.” She repeated, almost to try and convince herself that it was real.

"I'm back, baby, I'm ok." He whispered, holding her as close as he could.

•••••••••

"Whoa." Gabriel said, waving his hands quickly in front of his face. “Too much information. Okay, slow down. I'm not... processing." He sat on the edge of one of the pillars with Y/N at his feet.

"And there's more." Cas said. "Michael wants to come to this Earth and destroy it, and we may need your help to fight him."

"What?" Gabriel asked.

"Yeah." Sam said. "Welcome to the team."

"Uh... yeah. Not so much." Gabriel moved past Y/N to stand up. "I mean, thank you for the rescue and for the redemption arc. But, uh, I'm not really a team guy, so... I'm gonna bounce, okay? Um, but, you know, it's been, um... What's the opposite of fun? That."

"No, Gabriel, don't-- you-- you can't just walk away." Sam argued. "if Michael comes here, he will end this world."

"And the last time the world was ending, I put my money on you. I think you can pull it off again." Gabriel turned to leave.

"No." Castiel clenched his teeth. "You cannot turn your back on your father's creation."

Gabriel turned around and looked to Cas. "Castiel, my father turned his back on his creation. Guess it just runs in the family."

"Gabe?" Y/N's voice was soft and he looked at her, guilt swelling up at one look of her sad eyes. "Are you seriously leaving me again?"

He huffed and walked towards her. "No, never again. I'm not leaving."

Y/N smiled.

He placed his hand on her shoulder, the other pushing a large piece of hair from her face. "Not without you."

And, before Sam and Cas could process what was happening, Gabriel took off, taking Y/N with him.

#supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural reader insert #spn #spn x reader #supernatural gabriel x reader #gabriel x reader #spn gabriel x reader #x reader #x reader insert #x reader fanfic

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empyreanwritings · 4 years

Text

A Different Side to You

Pairing: Angel!Sam Wilson x Demon!Reader

Word Count: 7k (yall this is my longest fic that isn’t a series, i’m crying)

Warnings: definitely some blasphemous talk, blood and gore, mentions of sacrifices, language

Summary: You like to get under Sam’s skin because he makes it easy, but he doesn’t realize just how far you’ll really go to make sure he’s safe.

A/N: Hello friends! This is my submission for @buckysknifecollection writing challenge, congrats again on reaching 3k bby cause you deserve every follower and more! My prompt was Flirting in Inappropriate Places, and I tried to be as interesting with it as I could asdlkfjd ! Please let me know what y’all think! I crave attention xx

Divider by @whimsicalrogers - check them out bc their edits are amazing x

"Do you pray, or is that kind of redundant given your direct line to the big man?"

Sam refused to look over at the intruder. It was bad enough you felt the need to bother him with your presence again but to do it in a church? He feared if he looked over at you, he'd throw the hymnal straight at your thick skull. That kind of behavior was unbecoming for God's favorite, and he knew better than to test his father's patience - even if you tested his own daily.

You sighed dramatically, and he heard the familiar click of your heels as you walked down the center aisle. You traced your finger against the armrest of the pews; your nails dipped in black paint occasionally leaving a small scratch on them. The wood was old and soft, it was easy to leave marks behind, and it made you smile knowing they wouldn't be able to buff it out without ruining the wood altogether. A church marked by a demon. How sad.

For the last year, you brought it upon yourself to cause trouble to Sam. Nat told you not to bother with him; she knew her father would protect him at all costs, but you couldn't stop yourself. There was something about Sam that made every part of your body feel hot - and not in the Hellfire kind of way. Maybe it was his strong will or those arms. Either way, you enjoyed bugging him because you knew you'd make him crack eventually.

It was too hard to resist you, ask any man or woman who was allowed to live after a nightly encounter with you.

"I have to say," you leaned against the pew directly in front of Sam and crossed your arms over your chest, "Orange really is your color, Sammy. I don't think I've ever seen you look so delicious before."

"Can you not flirt with me in a house of worship? It's bad enough that you are here," he hissed. "Do not disrespect my father by flirting with me as well."

"Touchy, touchy. I can see I've struck a nerve, so I'll tell you why I'm here."

Sam's brows raised, and for once, he seemed intrigued by what you had to say. "Oh? It's not to bother me?"

Part of your visit was to bother him, you couldn't deny that, but it was mostly a professional visit. Nat needed to return to Hell and deal with a few demons who were stirring up trouble. The longer Nat stayed on Earth, the more restless they became down below. Some of them even went as far as to say Nat was no longer their queen and wanted to overthrow her. And, of course, she couldn't let that happen, so she left you in charge of any earthly factions trying to rise up while she went down to control the chaos. You hated being left behind, but the company wasn't terrible.

The only way you could really get the demons on Earth under control was if you had Lilith's knife. It was the only knife capable of truly killing a demon, not just send them back to Hell to crawl their way out again. After the war between the angels and demons, the angels took the knife and hid it so no being could ever wield its power again, and you knew Sam was there when Steve hid it.

You suggested a trade: Sam loaned you Lilith's knife in exchange for one of your Souls. No one would ever be willing to give up a soul they took in a deal, but if it meant you'd get your hands on the knife, you would do it.

"Are you out of your mind?" Sam roared, his cool exterior finally cracking at your audacity to ask something of him. "You really think I am going to hand over Lilith's knife to you? You know very well that knife doesn't just kill demons, Y/N."

"I would never use it on you, you drama queen." You paused, and a wicked smile spread across your face. "Unless you asked me to, of course."

He scoffed. You felt the disgust rolling off him, and you tried not to be annoyed that the sheer thought of being with you made him feel sick. You weren't looking for him to love you, or anything like that, but he didn't have to act like sleeping with you was so terrible. It wasn't as if you could get any sort of disease - perks of being a demon, after all.

"I am not giving you the knife, so you might as well leave."

"I can wait," you purred and left your spot on the pew to explore the sanctuary. You knew it would bother Sam if you stayed any longer, so you were going to milk your time there.

The church was one of the oldest in the city. You never fully understood the separate denominations of the church, but you noticed Baptists put less work into their churches than others. The pews were old, the fabric on them was a faded green that was torn in some spots. The white walls were slightly yellowed and peeling in the corners, but you only noticed if you focused long enough. It helped that the lights, which you could see dust hanging from the top of them, were dimmed. The blue carpet on the stage was the only thing that seemed new, and even that didn't seem to be in the best condition.

You walked over to the podium, and from the corner of your eye, you could see Sam tense up. You smirked and continued on. A worn bible sat on top of it; there were tabs sticking out the side, marking several pages for future sermons, you assumed. You grabbed the end of one and flipped it to the marked page, running your fingers across the lines.

You opened your mouth to start reading, but Sam appeared in front of you almost instantly. He slammed the bible closed, barely giving you time to yank your hand back. He knew exactly what you were doing, and he refused to let you speak the words of his father.

Touchy, touchy, you thought.

Sam grabbed your elbow to escort you out, but you whirled around and faced him head on. You pressed your chest against his; you were so close, your nose brushed the tip of his. He hated being this close to you, but he made no sign of backing down. God's favorite was one of the proudest as well. A deadly sin, you chose to remind him.

He watched your eyes flick down to his lips and back to his eyes in a matter of seconds. It happened so quickly, he thought he imagined it, but he knew better. You were shameless.

"I guess I'll get going now, Sammy," you hummed as you trailed your finger down his chest. "Please wear this sweater the next time I see you. Like I said, orange is your color."

You disappeared without another word, and the breath escaped Sam's lips in a cough. Well, it was less of a cough, and more of a strangled gasp. You really had a way of getting under his skin, and he hated admitting that to himself.

He knew one thing was certain, he couldn't let you get Lilith's knife. No matter your intentions.

"What are they doing?"

You jumped at the sound of Sam's voice, thinking you were caught by one of the people you spied on, but instantly relaxed when you saw him standing behind you. You glanced back at the scene in front of you - an altar with fake skulls the group probably bought at Michael's, red fabric thrown carelessly around everything, and three men in black cloaks mumbling to themselves about Lucifer. A woman was tied to the table directly in the middle. She squirmed and screamed for someone to help her, but no one was around these parts for miles, and the group knew it. It was why they picked this spot in the first place.

"Virgin sacrifice," you grumbled. "I could smell the stench of goat's blood miles away, so I popped in to see what they were doing."

"You can't just let them-"

"Relax, Sammy. I'm going to stop them. I actually hate human sacrifices." You turned around and smiled wide when you looked over at Sam. His brows furrowed, confused by your sudden change in mood, but when your eyes looked down at his shirt, he knew what you were about to say. "You're wearing orange."

He rolled his eyes. "I had nothing else to wear."

"You're wearing orange because I said you looked good in it, aren't you? Don't be embarrassed, Sammy, you look absolutely-"

"Don't you have a virgin sacrifice to interrupt?"

Your mouth formed an 'o' as if you just remembered why you were here. You told him to wait one moment before you disappeared behind the red fabric.

Screams filled the abandoned warehouse, but they didn't belong to the woman. The stench of blood and mutilated flesh hung in the air around Sam. It was a smell he was sure you were used to, but he almost lost his lunch thanks to it. When the screaming stopped, Sam thought the worst of it was over until he heard one of the boys beg for their lives. A wretched sob and a plea to be better interrupted by the sound of him choking on his own blood.

You escorted the woman out quietly. The poor thing trembled in your arms, yet it seemed you weren't the thing she was terrified of. You may have been a demon, but the monsters were the men willing to sacrifice her in the name of someone who didn't want human sacrifices to begin with. Well, Nat only liked sacrifices if the one dying was wicked, but that was another story.

The woman thanked you, tears and snot streaming down her face as she clutched onto your torso. You grimaced but did not pull away. Human comfort wasn’t something you fully understood, but you knew she needed a good hug right now, so you let it slide.

"Is there anything I can do to repay you?" She sobbed.

Sam shook his head. He knew what you were about to say - she could offer her soul in exchange for helping her. Demons were all the same. They acted like what they did was for the benefit of others, but it always came at a price. A price the humans could barely afford. And just when he started to believe you did this out of whatever goodness you had in your heart, you were going to prove to him that you were just like every other demon.

"You owe me nothing." He sucked in a sharp breath. That wasn't what he was expecting at all. "Except…maybe don't go on dates with people you meet in cemeteries. This is New Orleans, you can meet better men at the bars."

She nodded and made her way out of the warehouse. You weren't worried about her spreading the tale of what happened today because she could be accused of murder if she did. No one would ever buy the tale that a demon swooped in and killed everyone just to save her. The witches of the French Quarter might, but they weren't lawyers who could bust her out of jail.

You noticed Sam staring at you and huffed. "What? Do you not approve of me killing those bastards?"

"No, I…" He trailed off for a moment, eyes wandering over every inch of your blood covered body. He wasn't looking at you but trying to look through you and understand why you would do something like spare that woman's soul. "I don't understand why you didn't make a deal with that woman."

You shrugged. You felt no need to explain yourself to him.

"Wait, when you offered to exchange a soul for Lilith's knife, did you even have a soul to offer?"

"Several."

"Ones that aren't centuries old."

"Why does it matter how old they are? A soul is a soul, right?"

It hit Sam that you probably haven't made a deal since you first became a demon. There was a time where Nat required every demon to make deals with people, but even she grew bored of the lifestyle. Many demons continued making deals and ruining people's lives, but Sam wondered when you stopped - and why. You spent most of your days following him around just to bother him, which meant you didn't have much time to harvest souls of the innocent. So, why? Why did you stop, and why did you make it seem like it wasn't a big deal?

You turned away to avoid any questions he was inevitably going to throw at you. You walked around the body parts and looked through the trinkets they gathered for the sacrifice. It was a long shot, but you wanted to see if they got their hands on Lilith's knife. A small bubble of excitement burst in you when you saw a black dagger resting on the table, but you knew it wasn't the right one as soon as you touched it. No magic, no power. Just a boring kitchen knife dipped in paint.

He watched you look around in disappointment. Questions bombarded his mind, made him wonder what else he didn't know about you - what else he might have gotten wrong. You were still a demon, though, and he would never be able to look past that.

When your search turned up empty, you focused right back on Sam and the dark orange V-neck he wore. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he wore that shirt for you. And you knew it.

"So," you began with a smile, "I find it adorable that you are wearing more orange for me. Very fall…very romantic, if you ask me."

"I didn't wear it for you," he quipped. "I told you, I had nothing else to wear."

"Mhm, so you said. Well, if you don't like it, you could always just take it off. I wouldn't mind." You ran your finger along his exposed collarbone, and he quickly swatted at your hand.

"There is nothing sexy about you asking me to take off my shirt when it smells like blood."

You giggled, something that should have been adorable yet somehow sounded evil coming from your lips. "You'll get used to it after a while, but I'll let you change the subject for now. I know it's probably not good for God's favorite to be aroused at the idea of taking me on a sacrificial altar."

Sam deadpanned, and you practically howled out a laugh. He made it far too easy to get under his skin. As much as you would have liked for him to ravish you then and there, you were perfectly satisfied knowing you managed to annoy him. It was the second greatest pleasure in your life, next to torturing evil assholes who thought the world belonged to them.

You tried to turn the conversation back to Lilith's knife. You hoped that your display of mercy would make him willing to give up its location, but he stood his ground. He vowed to never let you see the knife, even if you did swear not to use it on the angels. The knife's power was too much for one to handle; he couldn't guarantee that after you used it on the rowdy demon faction, you wouldn't just turn around and use it on him or his brothers. Once the knife got a taste for blood, it always wanted more.

No matter what you told him about the threats of war in Hell and on Earth, he refused you. His stubbornness made your jaw clench, but you knew when to pick your battles. When the precious humans were in danger, he would be willing to give it up. Despite not wanting for it to get that bad, you knew it was the only way.

So, you'd wait, and until then, you'd drive him crazy with your flirtatious comments.

The next few days were…off, to say the least. You spent a lot of your time trying to get a feel for Sam's godly aura - something that had a distinct smell and feel to it most angels didn't even realize - but there was nothing. Every corner you turned, every chapel you visited, was hollow. Cold and empty, much like the feeling in your chest the longer you didn't see him. You knew it was possible he was just avoiding you, but you couldn't help but feel a little dreadful.

If something happened to Sam, you'd unleash Hell on earth. You would rip through every being you had to in order to get to him. The heavens haven't seen true bloodshed until you've put your mind to it, especially if you were going to avenge your non-existent lover.

But as you sat in one of Sam's favorite sanctuaries, you wondered if he had finally grown tired of your games. He was an angel after all, and you were nothing but a demon. Scum of the earth; knight of darkness and destruction. A small voice in the back of your head reminded you that you would never be any more to him. You looked around and realized, he might not have been missing at all, he may have just decided you were no longer worthy of his presence. You weren't sure which idea hurt more, and you didn't really want to take time to analyze it.

The funny thing about sadness is that it eats you from the inside. The harder you try to push it down, the more power you seem to give it. Even as you sat there, staring at the ethereal paintings on the ceiling, you couldn't stop the sadness from burning a hole into your heart. You closed your eyes and exhaled, feeling the heat from all the Bibles burning around you. And you smiled - not fully, but enough to push down the sadness once more.

"Where is my brother?" You opened your eyes and looked over at Steve, who went to work trying to put out the small fires you set. "For the love of dad, did you really have to burn the Bibles? You could have gone for the hymnals, at least!"

You hummed disinterestedly. "Why are you asking me about Sammy? I figured he went back to Heaven by now."

"He hasn't been home in months, but he usually checked in with me. I haven't heard from him in days now."

Okay, so maybe he was missing, and maybe you were too quick to start throwing yourself a pity party, but could anyone blame you? No one had to know you were willing to burn down a church simply because you thought Sam abandoned you.

"The last I saw Sam he was alive and well, I can promise you," you purred just to get under Steve's skin. "If I'm being honest, though, I haven't seen him since then. He usually pops up to scold me when I start trouble, and I did everything I could to get his attention! I even kicked a toddler, and he never came. I should have realized he could never get bored with me; obviously someone has taken him."

Steve blinked several times, trying his best to process your words. He didn't know where to start - the fact that you both tend to end up in each other's company willingly or that you would go so far as to kick a toddler to see him. He shook his head. How Sam managed to put up with your antics was beyond Steve. He always told his brother that a demon like you wasn't worth watching over, but Sam always had one excuse or another. Lately, he claimed it was to make sure you didn't find Lilith's knife, but even that excuse was flimsy at best.

He wanted to be in your company, and it baffled Steve most of all.

"I'm not going to touch any of that," he quickly shook his head and tried to push the disturbing thoughts out of his head. "Nat said there was rebellion going on in Hell. Do you think demons might have taken him to get under her skin?"

"I wouldn't put it past them, but I honestly think if the demon faction on Earth kidnapped him it's because they want Lilith's knife."

"And let me guess you want me to give it to you."

You nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "If demons are behind Sammy's disappearance, they need to be taken out. Lilith's knife can do that, and you know it!"

"You think I'm foolish enough to give a blade that can kill demons and angels to a psychotic demon with stabbing tendencies?" Steve scoffed. "You're off your rocker even more than usual."

A moment passed, and your passive façade finally cracked. You kicked Steve, full force against his abdomen, and sent him flying towards the altar. He caught himself before he landed on the podium, but he didn't have enough time to block your next blow to his side. You knew it was enough to knock the air from his lungs and catch him off guard, so you quickly grabbed his throat and forced him to his knees. His angel strength usually made him an even match, but your rage was the one thing fueling you. It was too much for him to fight off.

You squeezed until he was gasping for air and slapping at your hands. His eyes grew wide when he looked up at you and realized you were in full demon form - eyes black, teeth pointed behind your sinister snarl, and your skin slowly flaking off and turning to ash. He had never seen you like this, and for once, he feared his life despite knowing you couldn't really kill him.

You leaned in close, letting him get a good whiff of the rotted flesh and brimstone. "Let me make something very clear, Michael, you will give me that knife because the longer you wait, the more danger my Sammy may be in. And if he gets hurt, I will tear the world apart until it rains blood for eternity. You and your daddy will have nothing to protect anymore, do you understand me?"

Steve shuddered as you dropped him to the floor. The use of his real name never brought a chill down his spine until it came from your lips. He knew, somewhere deep inside of him, that you no longer wanted the knife for yourself; you wanted it to end those who dared to take Sam away from you.

Realization dawned on him in that moment. You loved him. It was something he never knew a demon could be capable of, but your protectiveness…your anger…it all made sense now. You wouldn't let anything happen to Sam, and he knew giving you the knife wouldn't be the worst idea. The other angels might frown upon it, but they wouldn't question Steve's judgement. He'd make them understand why he had to, and why you were somehow the most trustworthy person to take it.

"I'll get you the knife," he gasped. "You find out where my brother is, and I will meet you there with the knife."

You slowly turned back into your "presentable" self at his words. The relief that you wouldn't have to torture the information out of Steve flooded you. Sam would be incredibly unhappy if he knew you hurt his family, even if it was a little deserved.

"I can find out within the hour, I have someone who owes me a few favors," you replied. "Keep an eye out for my text. I'll give you the coordinates on where to find me once I know."

Without another word, you disappeared, off to cause trouble wherever you needed to. Steve stood there, hands dropped at his side and a deep sigh escaping his lips. There was one problem to your plan: he didn't have a phone.

The moon just started to rise when you stepped through the dilapidated gates of the cemetery. Fog clung to the ground, making everything damp and humid. Bits of leaves stuck to the bottom of your boots as you walked, but you didn't care. You just wanted to get to Sam.

You felt in your element, oddly enough. Surrounded by darkness, Lilith's knife grasped tightly in your hand. You knew the night would end in a blood bath. The demons weren't going to let Sam go willingly, and you mentally prepared yourself for what he was about to witness. If you lost control, even for a split second, your true form would come out again. You knew he would never love you anyways, but once he got a real look at you, whatever tiny amount of hope you clung onto would be squashed.

None of it mattered, though. You only cared for Sam's safety.

The faction waited for you in one of the larger mausoleums. They almost seemed too relaxed as you walked in, as if the party couldn't start until you arrived. You glanced over and saw Sam bound, gagged, and tossed in the corner. You forced yourself to take a deep breath and not let the rage consume you over the sight of him.

Mystique, the leader of the faction, casually hopped down from the top of the stone casket and made her way to you. Her movements reminded you of a lioness, calm and in control as she stalked closer to her prey. She wasn't scared of you, and that was the one thing you were hoping for; you wanted her to underestimate just how cruel you could be.

She walked around you in circles, taking in your presence with a hungry grin on her face. Her eyes lingered on Lilith's knife longer than anywhere else, but she made no advances to take it from you.

"I see you brought the knife," she practically purred in delight. "I'm surprised the angels were so willing to hand it over, but I see kidnapping one of their own was the best way to get their attention."

"You weren't just trying to get their attention," you replied calmly. "You were trying to get mine as well."

"Well, I did have a feeling taking your lover boy would get you here."

You refused to look back at Sam, even though you wanted to. You had to lie your way out of her trap, and you wouldn't be able to contain yourself if you made eye contact with him in this moment. And you wouldn't be able to hide any of your emotions from Mystique.

"He means nothing to me. He was just a means to get Lilith's knife."

As the words left your mouth, your chest started to ache. You silently prayed - something you never thought you could bring yourself to do - that Sam wouldn't believe your words. Whether he ever planned on loving you back or not, you didn't want him to think you only saw him as a means to an end. If he never gave you the knife, you wouldn't have cared because you got to spend time with him. That was more than enough for you.

"For a demon, you're a terrible liar," Mystique sneered. "I've been watching you two. I know the truth, and honestly? I feel a little sad for you, Y/N."

Your lips formed a tight line, and you took a slow breath through your nose. "Why is that?"

"Because you're dumb enough to think he'll fall for you one day. Do you not see the heartbreak you're setting yourself up for? An angel will never see you as anything but the perverted failure of his father, and you are dumb enough to think he could ever see you as anything else." Her words cut into you, and you had nothing to retort. She was right; you came to terms with this before you ever step foot into his life. You weren't meant to fall for him and yet…you did. You tricked yourself. "Even Nat believes she is better than us, it's why we needed to take action! Can't you see? We're your family. We're able to give you what these angels never could - power and belonging. I know you crave both despite all your past protests."

She wrapped her arm around your shoulders and forced you to look at Sam. Her lips were next to your ear, and though you couldn't see it, you knew she was smirking. "All you have to do is kill him. Kill Gabriel and we'll accept you into our group. I can be a fair better leader than Nat ever could."

Sam's eyes grew wide as you stalked towards him. Mystique's words ran through your mind on a constant loop. He would never see you as anything other than a demon; he would never be able to love you the way you so desperately desired. The longer you stared at him, the easier it was to come to terms with that. But it didn't mean he deserved to die.

"There is one thing I think you are forgetting in all of this," you finally said, turning your back on Sam to face Mystique.

"And what is that, my dear?"

You shoved the knife through her throat, ignoring the spray of blood hitting your face. The other demons stood, ready to attack, but they faltered when they realized no one was going to give them an order. Mystique was too busy choking on her own blood.

Just before the light faded from her eyes, you leaned in close and whispered, "You get on my last fucking nerve."

You pulled the knife out and let her body drop to the ground. She was gone for good this time. Wherever the beings went when they were killed with Lilith's knife, you knew it wasn't Hell; she would never be able to crawl her way back to Earth and cause more trouble.

The other demons stood in shock as you stepped over her body. They didn't want to fight in you in fear of losing their own lives, but as you flipped the knife in your hand, they knew they had no choice. You weren't going to let any of them walk out of there alive. They started too much trouble for you and for Nat. This was your way of tying up loose ends.

You gave them props for putting up a good enough fight. They weren't coordinated without Mystique telling them what to do, but they tried their best. Even when bodies started to drop, and the smell of blood lingered heavily in the air, they fought tooth and nail to get away from you. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. Not a single demon stepped through the mausoleum doors alive. Well, besides you of course, but that was kind of obvious.

Once everyone was taken care of, you made your way over to Sam. You looked him over several times, and a pout began to form on your lips.

"You're not wearing orange today!" You whined as you pulled the rag from his mouth. "I thought we agreed you'd wear orange the rest of your life for me."

He let out an exasperated breath. "You're insane, you know that?"

"Well I heard-"

"If quote Alice in Wonderland and tell me all the best people are crazy, I'm going to shoot you," Sam grumbled, kicking away the ropes from his ankles in a hurry.

You beamed over at him. It was the kind of smile that made you look unhinged, and the blood spattered on your cheeks didn't help. "Ooh, gunplay? Sounds kinky, I'm in! But I'm pretty sure you don't even know how to work a gun, so I'll have to teach you."

"Please don't."

Sam took your hand and allowed you to help him stand. He had been tied up for days, and he caught himself using the wall to keep himself from tipping over again as the blood started to rush to his limbs again. He noticed how you stayed close enough to catch him if he fell over but kept your distance to give him some space. You assumed he needed a break from being surrounded by demons, and you weren't entirely wrong. He just didn't include you in the list of demons he wanted to stay away from.

You quietly let him pull himself together and got to work on piling the demons' bodies on top of each other. Not many groundskeepers entered mausoleums, but you didn't want to risk anyone finding them. You made a mental note to return with some lighter fluid and take care of the remains before the sun rose. It wouldn't please Nat to know you left bodies out in the open for anyone to find.

Sam tried to shift his weight onto one foot, and he grunted in surprise when a sharp pain shot through his ankle. You were by his side instantly, using your shoulder support most of his weight.

"Are you okay?" You asked, searching his face for any signs of discomfort.

He nodded. "I'm not sure how, but I think they might have broken my ankle. It should heal soon, though."

"Let's get you to a safe place to rest. I need to get the knife back to Steve, and we don't really need any other demons stumbling on your injured self."

"You're actually giving the knife back?" His surprise made you wince. You told him the only thing you needed the knife for was the get the demon faction under control, but he never believed you.

Because you're a demon, your thoughts reminded you.

"I told you I only needed the knife for one thing Sammy," you huffed and helped him step out into the cemetery. "I would never lie to you."

Sam said nothing, but he quietly examined the side of your face as you walked together. He wasn't sure what he felt in that moment besides confusion. Deep down, he already knew you weren't one to lie to him, but he didn't understand why. Why you went to great lengths just to save him. Why you hated virgin sacrifices and didn't take souls. Why you spent most of your time around him when you could have been doing anything else. You were supposed to be a typical demon consumed by a lust for blood, sex, and souls, yet you had proven time and time again that you were far from his expectation.

He wondered if Mystique had been right - were you in love in with him? The thought of you being in love with him made him question everything he thought he already knew.

He couldn't bring himself to understand why he liked the way you flirted him, or why he wore orange just to see you smile. He easily could have gone back to Heaven by now, but he always found an excuse to stay. To see you.

As you escorted him through the gates and far away from the stench of blood, he sucked in a sharp breath. Perhaps Mystique wasn't right about everything. She claimed Sam could never see you as anything but a demon, but as he looked up at you now, that was the last thing on his mind. All he saw was the woman he finally admitted to himself he was in love with.

You slipped into the pew beside Sam, who had fully recovered from last night's incident. You were exhausted after spending your night burning bodies and tracking down Steve to return the knife. Even he seemed surprised you gave it up willingly, but you didn't bother to banter with him about it. You were tired of the angels always thinking the worst of you.

You leaned your head against Sam's shoulder, half-expecting him to pull away in disgust, but he didn't. He sat there in silence as you closed your eyes and let yourself relax for a few moments.

The silence between you two wasn't uncomfortable. Both of you felt like you had been to Hell and back, and not much needed to be said about that. You were still covered in blood, and your clothes reeked of burnt flesh. Sam, who was fully healed, rubbed at his wrists to try and get the phantom feeling of the rope away. You almost made a joke about how a fucked up demon sat next to an equally fucked up angel, but the humor died on your tongue before you could get it out. It was just too much effort.

Sam sighed and pressed his cheek against the top of your head. "She was wrong, you know."

"About what?" You murmured so softly, you weren't sure you spoke out loud.

"About my feelings for you."

You sat up and groaned, feeling all of your muscles groan along with you. "Don't tease me, Sam. It actually hurts my feeling for you to lie to me like this."

"I'm not lying!"

"Sure, you're not."

He grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. The sincerity in his eyes made your stomach churn. You knew how this played out because he wasn't supposed to love you; he wasn't supposed to see you as anything but a demon. Not a single celestial being would ever approve of him falling in love with you, and you would never be able to find peace.

"Listen to me," he began with a small, hopeful smile, "I love you. Do I fully understand it? Absolutely not. You're crazy, and I'm pretty sure you kill pedophiles for breakfast. You also willingly kick toddlers, which I don't approve but…I love you."

"No one will approve us being together, you know," you whispered as if someone was already listening in on you. "Not God, not Nat, not Steve. They'll always have something to say about us."

"Then let's get out of here for a bit."

"Where?"

"Anywhere you want to go." You quickly glanced to the side, and he rolled his eyes. "If you make another comment about that confessional booth, I will lose my mind."

You softly laughed and leaned in ever so slightly. You were officially invading his space, but you weren't making the first move yet. You wanted to give him one last chance to change his mind, to come to his senses or whatever it was he needed to do, before he turned his back on everything he knew just to be with you. Would it hurt? Absolutely. But you needed to know that this was going to last between you two. You weren't sure if you could live with the heartbreak of losing Sam.

"I think you've already lost your mind, Sammy," you teased. "You want to be with a demon after all."

He cupped your cheek in his hand, gently stroking your bottom lip with his thumb. It was an act so intimate, it almost caught you off guard. He stared at you silently before his lips finally met yours, and you nearly collapsed into his arms with how ecstatic you were to finally get a taste of him.

The kiss was hungry - full of teeth and breathless groans. You were exploring every inch of each other that you possibly could without tearing each other's clothes off. Sam practically came to life underneath you as his hands roamed up your side. Your name died on his lips - a prayer only you could hear. You thought about pulling back and reminding him that you were in the house of his father, but that would require you to stop kissing him, and you had no intention of stopping any time soon.

When he finally pulled away from, your chests were heaving, and you smiled over at him. He appreciated how gentle your smile seemed now. Even with the dried blood on your skin, there was a warmth in your eye that made your smile fill his chest with joy. A lot less unhinged, he would say.

"So," you pushed his back against the pew and crawled onto his lap, your knees straddling either side of his thighs, "You said we could go anywhere in the world, right?"

"Besides the confessional booth," he retorted with a smile as he caressed the side of your face.

You paused, trying to get used to him looking at you like you were the only woman in the universe. It felt odd but not entirely in a bad way. You spent most of your time denying he could ever look at you this way, and here he was, proving your doubts wrong. You weren't sure if it made you want to cry or kiss him until he caved and pulled you right into the confessional.

He claimed you wouldn't convince him, but you'd get him to crack one day.

"Besides the confessional booth," you laughed. "I spent a lot of time here, pestering you and scaring children in the cemetery. I think it'd be nice to get out of the country, explore the world a little bit."

"You haven't done that already?"

You shook your head. "I spent a lot of time staying close to Nat. She needed a strong right-hand woman, and I was the one who wanted to fill the job. I mean, Maria is great, but she's better at handling souls and all their pesky little contracts."

"Where do you want to go then? We can go anywhere you want, and we can get there for free thanks to my wings."

"Can I convince you to give the confessional booth a whirl?"

Sam sighed dramatically, not in annoyance but enough to make you laugh. "Absolutely not."

"Fine," you pouted. "I guess we can start with Greece, as long as you agree to wear your orange v-neck again."

#buckysknifecollectionchallenge #sam wilson x reader #angel!sam wilson #demon!reader #sam wilson one shot #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson fanfic #sam wilson fic #angel au #marvel one shots #marvel imagines #marvel fanfiction #marvel fics #sam wilson x you #angel!sam x demon!reader

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monicawoe · 3 years

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spn fic masterlist

(updated 5/29/21)

I’ve written over 100 spn fics (ranging from ficlets to 70k big-bangs). Most of them are Sam-centric, largely featuring powers!Sam. The whole collection can be found here on AO3

newest fics:

Between Hell and the Hunt - Dean's deal is due, but Sam has found a way to save him. He's made a deal with someone else - someone Lilith can't touch. (2k words, Wild Hunt season 3 AU)

Closer Than You Think - Five times Sam’s eyes were demonic, and one time they weren’t. (3k words, boyKingSam AUs of multiple eps)

Sin Eater - Sam has a different plan to cure demon Dean, but Dean doesn't want to be cured. (Sam drinking blood from demon!Dean, written for @quickreaver for her artwork Bitumen Kiss)

Many more under the cut

All You Have Is Your Fire - written for @quickreaver for the 2020 Supernatural Spring Fling Dean has known fire all his life. Sometimes it sounds like his brother. (~2k words; gen)

The Last Days in the Land of Nod - comic adaptation by @quickreaver The year is 2014. The Devil is wearing his finest, the Angel is human, and the Brother protects the survivors at Camp Chitaqua.

The Two Ravens - art by @quickreaver Your brother he is, and heir to my throne. He’ll feed on the damned and he'll turn them to bone. (4k; fairy-tale)

Counteroffer About two weeks after Sam gutted a hellhound, completing the first trial, he started acting weird. (5k, psychological horror, gore)

Diary of a Madman -Lydia’s newest patient, Sam Winchester, suffered from hallucinations, delusions, and regular bouts of insomnia. He also thought he was Lucifer. (4k, gen, horror)

Some other bundled links, for your convenience

Demon-blood Sam

King of Hell Sam

Powers!Sam

Horror

Crossovers & Fusion ‘verses

Hannibal|SPN

SPN/Preacher

SPN/Hannibal/MCU

#spn fics #spn fanart #sam winchester #boy king sam #monicawoe's fics

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