Title: Cigarettes 

Author: winbesters

Word Count: 730

Request:  Could write a oneshot where you’re a detective dating Dodds and you get into a hostage situation? (Anonymous)

Trigger Warnings: Cursing, Use of Tobacco, Mentions of Rape

Fic:

“I’ll see you when I get back.”

Those were the last words he heard come from your lips, but he didn’t know it. He wasn’t aware that that was the last time he would see your hair whip from your shoulders to your back while walking out those doors. He didn’t know.

               “What’s the situation?” Dodds didn’t hesitate to bomb Lieutenant Benson with questions. The entire squad was there in their navy jackets, trying to find shelter from the cold. Mike was in his regular jacket apart from his police attire, which was a dark blue hoodie that seemed highly unprofessional among his colleagues, but he couldn’t have cared less. The one day that he took off of work…the one day you would have a gun held to your head for three hours. He was kicking himself for it, but there was no time for self-pity. He had to get in there. He had to.

               Benson took a deep breath. She knew Dodds would be panicked out of his mind. He tried to act cool around the office as if he weren’t completely head over hills for you, but she knew. She knew about those long nights that you two spent together working overtime at the precinct alone and the “patrolling” which was a secret word for “hooking up” during work. She wasn’t stupid. “Carisi and Y/N went to go wrangle in a suspect. Carisi forgot his gun in the car so he stepped back outside. Something went down, the guy pulled a gun and has Y/N hostage,”

               “He’s using her as leverage to avoid jail,” Tucker intervened as he approached the group, which Dodds would usually find irritating since he and Tucker don’t exactly see eye, but he had bigger and definitely more important things to worry about. “He finally picked up the negotiator’s phone call. He wants a “get out of jail” free card. He doesn’t want to be charged for the rapes and wants to be able to flee without anyone tailing him,”

               “Fuck that!” Finn shot out, breaking the professional atmosphere. Tucker bit his tongue in irritation and Olivia gave him a look that told him to calm down. “Why don’t we just take his ass out now? We have snipers positioned don’t we?”

               “If we do that,” Dodds interjected, trying to hide the emotion in his voice. “He might hurt Y/N if there’s the off chance they miss or he sees them. We can’t risk it-,”

               A shot fired through the air and interrupted their bickering. Dodds’ heart dropped to his feet as he pushed through the S.W.A.T, tears nearly overflowing in his eyes.

               “Hey there, Sleeping Beauty,” His warm voice welcomed you back to reality of the incessant beeping of the monitor and the racing of hospital beds through the halls. A white room with a marvelous window that illuminated the vases of flowers captivated your sensitive sight. On your other side sat a familiar body on the edge of your bed, gazing at you with bated breath. You weren’t sure if it was his stare or the pain medicine in your system that made you feel so warm and relaxed inside, but either way you felt as if you had no worries in the world despite your impending medical bills. His hand reached up to your face and pulled a stand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering on your jawline as if he were studying your structure, taking it all in for future reference. He slowly leaned in and placed his lips on yours so lightly that you barely felt it was there, but you knew that he was only afraid to hurt you since you were obviously weakened from your little adventure. You could taste a hint of tobacco on his tongue. There were only two times he smoked: after sex and when he gets so upset he feels like there’s nothing out there in the world for him. Of course you didn’t like the fact that he smoked, even at that small amount, but you found a smile sprawl on your face at the fact that he inadvertently admitted that you were his world through his taste. He pulled away just enough to gaze into your eyes.

               “No one told Prince Charming was this handsome,” You finally replied, giving way for a relieved grin to grow on Mike’s lips.

winbesters:

Title: Filling the Hole (Part One) (Part Two)

Author: winbesters

Word Count: 2249

Character(s): Sonny/Reader

Summary: Some bottled up emotions make their debut.

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Abandonment, Cursing, Mentions of rape

A/N: Remember, if you read this, please like, reblog, or shoot me a message so I’ll know! I will only keep updating if I know people are reading!

              “The crime scene was a bust. No evidence left behind anywhere. The only thing we’re going on is the semen found inside Georgia and that’ll take time to process,” Your voice had reached the squad room before your body which met Rollins and Finn who were filing paperwork at their desks, waiting for your return. Carisi was close behind you, unfortunately.

               You took to the marker board and began writing evidence on the white space and attaching photos of Georgia and her battle scars. You relayed the information back to the two while Carisi sat quietly in his chair, focusing on your hand that was scribbling about.

               “So, you’re saying that you think the mother might have some information?” Rollins stared at you quizzically as Finn shuffled in his seat. The office was bustling in the background like a lively street in the heart of the Bronx.

               You nodded your head and began to tap the marker in your hand. “Yes, I do. Something about her was odd. Most parents lunge at the police to find the sicko who attacked their child, but she didn’t. She just sat there, not saying anything. Something about her was off. Right, Carisi?”

               Sonny nodded his head slightly to show he was engaging in the conversation, but you knew that he wasn’t fully there. You were trying to escape the truth that began to ring in your mind that you might have hurt his feelings. You didn’t want to feel bad, but you couldn’t help it. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so harsh on him. After all, it was his first day at SVU, and if you recall, you’ve said similar things, if not worse. But now was not the time. There was a rapist on the loose.

               “What are you saying?” Amanda interjected. “Do you wanna bring the mother in?”

               You bit your lip in thought. “Not yet. We just saw them at the hospital. Carisi and I will go to their home tomorrow and poke around for anything out of the ordinary. After that, we’ll reign her in,” You continued as you sat down in your desk chair.

               Amanda stood up from her desk and stretched, preparing herself for a well-earned trip to the vending machine. “Alright. Well, Finn and I already interviewed the guests and staff at the party and of course, no one saw anything,” She said with irritation obviously trailing her words. “You would think that they would have noticed the birthday girl missing for ten minutes straight…Do you want anything from the machine? I’m going downstairs to the better one,”

               Finn jumped from his chair and pulled up his falling jeans. “You mean the one with the unhealthy stuff? I’m in,” He joked as he and Amanda left the room. You swiveled your chair back around and tidied up the papers that were left laying on your desk, but you couldn’t help but notice Carisi’s tense face from behind your computer monitor. His desk was still bare because he hadn’t had the chance to decorate yet, but you knew even those distractions couldn’t have kept you from notice the expression on his face. What was this emotion that was hitting you? Was it guilt? Oh, my God, it was. It was good, old fashioned guilt. For months, you haven’t felt a single emotion at work except for anger. Anger towards Nick. You knew it was senseless to hold on to that grudge you held so strongly to like a teddy bear at night, but you couldn’t let it go. You also knew you couldn’t project that anger onto an innocent man who has done nothing but been excited about working with you. You had never been great at accepting when you were wrong, but this time you had to make an exception. If this partner didn’t work out, you were sure that you would either be transferred or fired, so you had to make it work. Or at least, that’s the lie you told yourself so you felt better about actually processing your emotions for once.

               You stood up from your chair and peered down at Carisi whose hand was steadily scrolling through the web with his mouse. His eyes were wrinkled in concentration at whatever he was studying, probably a video of that mugging street rat he had mentioned earlier.

               “Carisi, can you help me with something in the break room?” You asked him. You had never been a good liar which is why you’re never asked to go undercover, but thankfully it worked this time. Maybe because you weren’t pressured to do great or you’d get shot?

               Sonny obliged and raised himself up from his chair, following you into the break room. You let him enter first like Olivia had done for you earlier that day, then quickly followed suit and shut the door. Carisi turned to look at you, hands tucked into his pants pockets. A look of irritation was resting on his face while he glared at you with obvious hurt feelings tucked away within the creases of his face. You folded your arms over your chest in emotional defense and began to speak in a way that you hadn’t done in a long time.

               “I’m sorry,” You plainly said, staring at him. He just kept his eyes fixated on you as if he were expecting more, but you weren’t sure what to say. Nothing that your head concocted felt right for the situation. “I took my anger out on you and that wasn’t okay. I’m sorry,” You apologized again with a tone of regret in your voice. You looked down at the ground like a wounded puppy afraid to be hit by its master.

               Sonny shook his head in disbelief as a pained, small grin grew on his lips. “Anger from what? What did I do to piss you off within the five hours that we’ve known each other? Am I that fucking intolerable to you?”    

               Sonny showcased a side of him that you had yet to see and although his words stung, you found it exciting. You felt like you were breaking through the wall of enthusiasm that Carisi had built around himself. However, you still felt your anger boiling underneath your skin like a forgotten pot of water on the stove. How dare he assume that he is so important to cause you so much frustration?

               You stuck your finger out towards him in irritation. “You don’t know the fucking half of it, Carisi,” You shook your head, turning your back towards the increasingly defensive entity behind you. You kicked the vending machine with the tip of your boot, causing a violent sound to break the tension.

               Sonny stretched out his arms from his sides and you turned to look at him, expanding his ligaments. “Then tell me, because if we don’t get past this now, then this isn’t gonna work out. And I know you want this to for the sake of your job and I want this to for the sake of helping people, so just tell me!” His voice rose from an argumentative tone to practically a shout, but neither of you cared if the people outside could hear.

               You could feel the heat reaching your ears and turning them redder than blood as you charged towards him, hitting his chest with your palms in an abusive pattern as you spoke. “You wanna know why I’ve been treating you like shit? Huh? Because the last partner I had treated me like fucking dirt in the end! I trusted him and I had never trusted a man before and what did he do? Leave! Like every other person in my life! So why on earth would I be okay with another fucking man coming in to just repeat that same painful process of making me feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest and stomped on by a stampede? So that is why I treat you like shit, because I don’t want another fucking man hurting me like him. So fuck you, and fuck Nick, too,” You released the emotions that were compacted within you for so long, which were now being catapulted from your tongue like cannonballs. The frustration that had kept you up at night, the abandonment that made you sob in the shower…it was all making itself known in this very moment and you were finally, fully aware of the damage that Nick brought upon you with his departure. No man in your life had ever cared about you like he did, treated you as well as he did, or loved you as purely as he did. There was not just a hole across from your desk when he fled, but a hole in your life and your heart that was incapable of being sewn back shut.

Your fists ceased to pound into the helpless man’s chest as you lunged your way over to the door and exited the tense area and back into the squad room. You strode past your fellow cops that were grazing over take out that someone had generously bought, trying your best to avoid eye contact with anyone. You felt tears start to bubble in your eyes like a witches brew about to explode when you finally made it to the bunk room. You plopped down onto one of the beds that were often used for cops on the job to take cat naps if needed, but there was no way in hell you would be able to sleep. Not after that.

You sat alone in the dark room of beds, head in your hands that were moistened by your tears. You were thankful no one was in there to observe you in your weakest state: letting loose emotions that had been lodged in your mind like bullets for months. It is one thing to be scarred by a man at a young age and to no longer trust them, but it was another kind of torture to finally trust again and have that beautiful savior flee across the country to the West. You felt abandoned, like a puppy at a shelter, and now you finally were accepting that he was gone. Every tear felt like a memory that you had with him: taking turns sleeping during stake outs, bringing you your favorite food when you were having a bad day, letting you cry on his shoulder when cases got to you. All of that was gone and now you were finally accepting it. You had been in denial for so long that a man had hurt you once again, but now the anger of the situation had flowed through and was revealing sadness that was hidden behind a façade of bad assery.

               While all these thoughts were going through your head, the door to the bunk room shyly opened to reveal Sonny standing in the doorway. He crept in silently, walking on tiptoes and sat down next to you on the bed. You knew he was there, but still you didn’t stop crying. It was too late to build another emotional dam, and maybe that was for the best. After a few more moments of silence, you picked your head up and wiped away the tears underneath your eyes like annoying gnats on a hot summer day. You fixed your posture and faced Sonny, but with your eyes to the floor.

               “I’m sorry,” You began, but he cut you off prematurely. His hand rose and placed itself on your back in an encouraging manner.

               “No. Don’t you apologize to me. I understand that you were being a little less than pleasant-,” Sonny spoke softly, but you gave him a sarcastic smirk.

               “Alright, you were a bitch,” You nodded in approval at the modified description. “But I understand now that you were being that way as a defense mechanism. You don’t wanna be hurt again, and I get that. This Nick guy sounds like he did a number on you, but from what I’ve seen these past couple of hours, you’re strong enough to move past it. You were brave enough to put a rat in that one guy’s desk, so why can’t you heal from this?”

               You shot up and raised your palms to your chest as if you were surrendering. “Hey, it was never proven that was me,”

               Sonny nodded his head and chuckled softly. “Alright, alright. But I want you to know, whatever heartbreak you felt when Nick left, you’re not gonna experience with me. When I took an oath to protect and serve, I also made a promise to be there for my partner and risk my life for them. I’m not gonna leave you. Someone would have to kill me before I abandoned you,”

               You could hear real sincerity in his voice, a kindness that you have rarely heard from a man. You craned your head to face him and gave him a polite smile that didn’t do justice for the warmth you felt in your chest. You felt like he was being candidly honest, and it heated your bones down to the core with a sensation of safety and reliance.

               Of course, you weren’t going to let him know you’re a softy, so you rolled your eyes and stood up from the bunk, wiping away the remaining residue of your tears. “God, I’m stuck with you for life?” You retorted sarcastically.

               Sonny rose with a smirk on his face. “Seems like it, doll,” He replied, placing his hand on your back once again, escorting you out of the room.

Title: Filling the Hole (Part One) (Part Two)

Author: winbesters

Word Count: 2249

Character(s): Sonny/Reader

Summary: Some bottled up emotions make their debut.

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Abandonment, Cursing, Mentions of rape

A/N: Remember, if you read this, please like, reblog, or shoot me a message so I’ll know! I will only keep updating if I know people are reading!

              “The crime scene was a bust. No evidence left behind anywhere. The only thing we’re going on is the semen found inside Georgia and that’ll take time to process,” Your voice had reached the squad room before your body which met Rollins and Finn who were filing paperwork at their desks, waiting for your return. Carisi was close behind you, unfortunately.

               You took to the marker board and began writing evidence on the white space and attaching photos of Georgia and her battle scars. You relayed the information back to the two while Carisi sat quietly in his chair, focusing on your hand that was scribbling about.

               “So, you’re saying that you think the mother might have some information?” Rollins stared at you quizzically as Finn shuffled in his seat. The office was bustling in the background like a lively street in the heart of the Bronx.

               You nodded your head and began to tap the marker in your hand. “Yes, I do. Something about her was odd. Most parents lunge at the police to find the sicko who attacked their child, but she didn’t. She just sat there, not saying anything. Something about her was off. Right, Carisi?”

               Sonny nodded his head slightly to show he was engaging in the conversation, but you knew that he wasn’t fully there. You were trying to escape the truth that began to ring in your mind that you might have hurt his feelings. You didn’t want to feel bad, but you couldn’t help it. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so harsh on him. After all, it was his first day at SVU, and if you recall, you’ve said similar things, if not worse. But now was not the time. There was a rapist on the loose.

               “What are you saying?” Amanda interjected. “Do you wanna bring the mother in?”

               You bit your lip in thought. “Not yet. We just saw them at the hospital. Carisi and I will go to their home tomorrow and poke around for anything out of the ordinary. After that, we’ll reign her in,” You continued as you sat down in your desk chair.

               Amanda stood up from her desk and stretched, preparing herself for a well-earned trip to the vending machine. “Alright. Well, Finn and I already interviewed the guests and staff at the party and of course, no one saw anything,” She said with irritation obviously trailing her words. “You would think that they would have noticed the birthday girl missing for ten minutes straight…Do you want anything from the machine? I’m going downstairs to the better one,”

               Finn jumped from his chair and pulled up his falling jeans. “You mean the one with the unhealthy stuff? I’m in,” He joked as he and Amanda left the room. You swiveled your chair back around and tidied up the papers that were left laying on your desk, but you couldn’t help but notice Carisi’s tense face from behind your computer monitor. His desk was still bare because he hadn’t had the chance to decorate yet, but you knew even those distractions couldn’t have kept you from notice the expression on his face. What was this emotion that was hitting you? Was it guilt? Oh, my God, it was. It was good, old fashioned guilt. For months, you haven’t felt a single emotion at work except for anger. Anger towards Nick. You knew it was senseless to hold on to that grudge you held so strongly to like a teddy bear at night, but you couldn’t let it go. You also knew you couldn’t project that anger onto an innocent man who has done nothing but been excited about working with you. You had never been great at accepting when you were wrong, but this time you had to make an exception. If this partner didn’t work out, you were sure that you would either be transferred or fired, so you had to make it work. Or at least, that’s the lie you told yourself so you felt better about actually processing your emotions for once.

               You stood up from your chair and peered down at Carisi whose hand was steadily scrolling through the web with his mouse. His eyes were wrinkled in concentration at whatever he was studying, probably a video of that mugging street rat he had mentioned earlier.

               “Carisi, can you help me with something in the break room?” You asked him. You had never been a good liar which is why you’re never asked to go undercover, but thankfully it worked this time. Maybe because you weren’t pressured to do great or you’d get shot?

               Sonny obliged and raised himself up from his chair, following you into the break room. You let him enter first like Olivia had done for you earlier that day, then quickly followed suit and shut the door. Carisi turned to look at you, hands tucked into his pants pockets. A look of irritation was resting on his face while he glared at you with obvious hurt feelings tucked away within the creases of his face. You folded your arms over your chest in emotional defense and began to speak in a way that you hadn’t done in a long time.

               “I’m sorry,” You plainly said, staring at him. He just kept his eyes fixated on you as if he were expecting more, but you weren’t sure what to say. Nothing that your head concocted felt right for the situation. “I took my anger out on you and that wasn’t okay. I’m sorry,” You apologized again with a tone of regret in your voice. You looked down at the ground like a wounded puppy afraid to be hit by its master.

               Sonny shook his head in disbelief as a pained, small grin grew on his lips. “Anger from what? What did I do to piss you off within the five hours that we’ve known each other? Am I that fucking intolerable to you?”    

               Sonny showcased a side of him that you had yet to see and although his words stung, you found it exciting. You felt like you were breaking through the wall of enthusiasm that Carisi had built around himself. However, you still felt your anger boiling underneath your skin like a forgotten pot of water on the stove. How dare he assume that he is so important to cause you so much frustration?

               You stuck your finger out towards him in irritation. “You don’t know the fucking half of it, Carisi,” You shook your head, turning your back towards the increasingly defensive entity behind you. You kicked the vending machine with the tip of your boot, causing a violent sound to break the tension.

               Sonny stretched out his arms from his sides and you turned to look at him, expanding his ligaments. “Then tell me, because if we don’t get past this now, then this isn’t gonna work out. And I know you want this to for the sake of your job and I want this to for the sake of helping people, so just tell me!” His voice rose from an argumentative tone to practically a shout, but neither of you cared if the people outside could hear.

               You could feel the heat reaching your ears and turning them redder than blood as you charged towards him, hitting his chest with your palms in an abusive pattern as you spoke. “You wanna know why I’ve been treating you like shit? Huh? Because the last partner I had treated me like fucking dirt in the end! I trusted him and I had never trusted a man before and what did he do? Leave! Like every other person in my life! So why on earth would I be okay with another fucking man coming in to just repeat that same painful process of making me feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest and stomped on by a stampede? So that is why I treat you like shit, because I don’t want another fucking man hurting me like him. So fuck you, and fuck Nick, too,” You released the emotions that were compacted within you for so long, which were now being catapulted from your tongue like cannonballs. The frustration that had kept you up at night, the abandonment that made you sob in the shower…it was all making itself known in this very moment and you were finally, fully aware of the damage that Nick brought upon you with his departure. No man in your life had ever cared about you like he did, treated you as well as he did, or loved you as purely as he did. There was not just a hole across from your desk when he fled, but a hole in your life and your heart that was incapable of being sewn back shut.

Your fists ceased to pound into the helpless man’s chest as you lunged your way over to the door and exited the tense area and back into the squad room. You strode past your fellow cops that were grazing over take out that someone had generously bought, trying your best to avoid eye contact with anyone. You felt tears start to bubble in your eyes like a witches brew about to explode when you finally made it to the bunk room. You plopped down onto one of the beds that were often used for cops on the job to take cat naps if needed, but there was no way in hell you would be able to sleep. Not after that.

You sat alone in the dark room of beds, head in your hands that were moistened by your tears. You were thankful no one was in there to observe you in your weakest state: letting loose emotions that had been lodged in your mind like bullets for months. It is one thing to be scarred by a man at a young age and to no longer trust them, but it was another kind of torture to finally trust again and have that beautiful savior flee across the country to the West. You felt abandoned, like a puppy at a shelter, and now you finally were accepting that he was gone. Every tear felt like a memory that you had with him: taking turns sleeping during stake outs, bringing you your favorite food when you were having a bad day, letting you cry on his shoulder when cases got to you. All of that was gone and now you were finally accepting it. You had been in denial for so long that a man had hurt you once again, but now the anger of the situation had flowed through and was revealing sadness that was hidden behind a façade of bad assery.

               While all these thoughts were going through your head, the door to the bunk room shyly opened to reveal Sonny standing in the doorway. He crept in silently, walking on tiptoes and sat down next to you on the bed. You knew he was there, but still you didn’t stop crying. It was too late to build another emotional dam, and maybe that was for the best. After a few more moments of silence, you picked your head up and wiped away the tears underneath your eyes like annoying gnats on a hot summer day. You fixed your posture and faced Sonny, but with your eyes to the floor.

               “I’m sorry,” You began, but he cut you off prematurely. His hand rose and placed itself on your back in an encouraging manner.

               “No. Don’t you apologize to me. I understand that you were being a little less than pleasant-,” Sonny spoke softly, but you gave him a sarcastic smirk.

               “Alright, you were a bitch,” You nodded in approval at the modified description. “But I understand now that you were being that way as a defense mechanism. You don’t wanna be hurt again, and I get that. This Nick guy sounds like he did a number on you, but from what I’ve seen these past couple of hours, you’re strong enough to move past it. You were brave enough to put a rat in that one guy’s desk, so why can’t you heal from this?”

               You shot up and raised your palms to your chest as if you were surrendering. “Hey, it was never proven that was me,”

               Sonny nodded his head and chuckled softly. “Alright, alright. But I want you to know, whatever heartbreak you felt when Nick left, you’re not gonna experience with me. When I took an oath to protect and serve, I also made a promise to be there for my partner and risk my life for them. I’m not gonna leave you. Someone would have to kill me before I abandoned you,”

               You could hear real sincerity in his voice, a kindness that you have rarely heard from a man. You craned your head to face him and gave him a polite smile that didn’t do justice for the warmth you felt in your chest. You felt like he was being candidly honest, and it heated your bones down to the core with a sensation of safety and reliance.

               Of course, you weren’t going to let him know you’re a softy, so you rolled your eyes and stood up from the bunk, wiping away the remaining residue of your tears. “God, I’m stuck with you for life?” You retorted sarcastically.

               Sonny rose with a smirk on his face. “Seems like it, doll,” He replied, placing his hand on your back once again, escorting you out of the room.

Title: Filling the Hole (Part Two) (Part One Here)

Author: winbesters

Word Count: 2427

Character(s): Sonny Carisi/Reader

Summary: You and your new partner go to interview the victim, but he isn’t helping the situation.

Trigger Warnings: Blood, Mentions of Rape

A/N: If you read this, please like, reblog, or shoot me a message to let me know! I will only update this series if I know people are reading it. Thank you!

You walked out of Benson’s office with a sense of determination on your face that you hid as soon as you saw Carisi, who was standing right outside leaned against the wall with a box of his belongings in his arms. His eyes were drifting into a sweet daydream as he stared at the clock on the far wall across the room, patiently waiting. There were a few pictures in the box he strongly held onto, as well as some papers and a trophy of some sort. You were thankful he wasn’t the kind of cop to set up cheesy figurines on his desk. Don’t get it wrong, it’s nice to see something cute to cheer you up after a brutal case, but sometimes a frog sitting on a log with a fishing pole next to a sign saying “Gone Fishing” is the last thing you want to see after a rapist walks.

               “Alright. Come on, Carisi.” You instructed as you kept walking past him, making your way to your desk and his. It felt weird thinking that. There was going to be a person at the vacant seat across from you once again. “Just set your stuff down quickly ‘cause we’ve gotta go. There’s a vic’ waiting at Syracuse Memorial Hosptial,”

               You felt a small smile twinge at your lips when those words left your mouth. Sonny did as he was instructed and sat the box down in a rush, making sure to never stray too far from behind you. Rollins and Finn looked up from their work to take in the newbie with skeptical looks. You couldn’t blame them, though. With your recent history of brief partners, it’s become a pastime to joke about the Partner Killer: you. No one in years had gone through as many partners as you at the precinct, so there was bound to be conversation. Nonetheless, you continued to walk towards your colleagues with a fearless face, Carisi steadily following behind.

               “Carisi, this is Detective Rollins,” You pointed to Amanda and she raised her hand slightly in greeting.  “And Detective Tutorola. Guys, this is Detective Carisi,” Finn just grinned at Carisi for a few moments before he stretched his hand out which Carisi enthusiastically shook.

               “Nice to meet you, Contestant Number Three,” Finn shot out with a powerful amount of sass in his voice. Amanda giggled and gave Finn a high five while Sonny stood there, confused. You raised the file up to Finn’s head and whacked him, walking away, but turned around.

               “Carisi and I are going to check out a report. Be back later,” You informed, but Rollins and Finn were too consumed in their amusement to communicate back. Carisi left his post and followed you out of the room, down the hall, and into the elevator. You pressed the ground floor as Carisi narrowly made it in time. You plucked your hands into your jacket pockets and leaned onto the wall. There was no telling how many perps you had travelled with in this small space. With Nick.

               Sonny, with hands tucked into his pants pockets, turned to you. “What did he mean back there? With that “contestant” thing?” His voice and face rang with genuine concern, as if he were worried that he had hurt someone’s feelings.

               You let out a small chuckle and turn your head to face him. “Eh, don’t worry about it. It was just a joke,” You replied. Sonny’s face still looked pained. You were quick to reassure him. “Listen, seriously, don’t worry about it. It was a joke about me and my track record with partners,”

               Sonny’s eyes dropped from your face as he took in a breath and studied the floor. He inhaled sharply. “They didn’t all die, did they?”

               “Jesus, no!” You hastily fired back. You were a little offended at this suggestion. Did you seem like the kind of cop to let your partner die? Especially multiple partners? “I used to have this partner a while back. After he, uh, left, Benson assigned me with a new partner who didn’t work out, and then another who also didn’t work out, and now you,” Realization hit Sonny’s face as he chuckled a bit.

               “What the hell is so funny?” You pulled yourself off the wall and stared into his face that was grinning in an innocent manner. He shook his head and looked at the floor as the elevator doors opened, allowing you both to exit the building and onto the bustling street.              

               “I just- I think it’s funny. How does someone go through so many partners? Especially someone who seems as experienced as you?” He finally retorted as you both walked towards the car. You could feel your assumption of him start to change at his blatant compliment, but you knew better than to let your guard down so soon. You saw what happened when you did so with Nick.

               You walked to the drivers’ side of the car and got in while Sonny dove into the passengers’ seat, anticipation of his first case obviously making him excited. You cranked the car, allowing the vibrations of the engine to interrupt the silence. “Well, my first partner, Nick,” His name stung on your tongue as you stared out the windshield with a look of distaste. “Decided his time was over at SVU and transferred. His first replacement was a total pig who sexually harassed the clerks on the first floor. The second replacement was a sissy who was scared of rats, and now we have you,”

               Sonny gave you a confused look as you reversed out of the parking spot and pulled in to traffic toward Syracuse. “What do you mean he was afraid of rats? If you live in New York, you gotta learn to deal with ‘em. I swear I’ve seen those things mug people on the subway,”

               Against your will, you felt a small giggle escape from your stressed lips. Sonny smiled at your obvious reaction, satisfied that he managed to make you show some sort of emotion. Your eyes stayed steady on the road.

               “It wasn’t me,” You turned to glare at Sonny quickly, then focused back on the road. “But Detective Valencia found a rat in his desk that for some reason lunged for his crotch and resulted in him going to the ER. Happens all the time,” You smirked as Sonny chuckled at your story and reached for the file sitting between you two. He flipped it open and studied the papers inside. “What do we have?”

               Sonny sighed and turned over papers. “Georgia Reynolds, sixteen, raped at her own birthday party two hours ago by a masked man with a knife. Has wounds to the face and inner thighs. Rape kit was positive for semen…” Sonny sighed once again and turned towards you. “It’s sick that this girl was raped at her own Sweet Sixteen. She probably bought some pretty dress, had her hair done, only to be attacked in the bathroom,”

               You turned your head to see a pain-filled face with eyes that were focusing on the picture of a battered Georgia. You reached over, shut the file in his hands, and tossed it into the backseat. Sonny looked alarmed, but thankful that he no longer was staring at the photo any longer.

               “I know it’s sick and I’m not saying to accept it, but you’re going to have to get used to the fact that humans are despicable in this world and pull this kind of shit all of the time. These kind of crimes are things you have to get used to. It’s not easy,”

               Sonny’s eyes dropped and his hands danced with each other in his lap. “And what if I never get used to it?” He questioned, but you never responded. You kept your eyes locked on the road, leaving him to ponder that with himself. You remembered having that same thought pass through your mind during your first case with Nick. He assured you that you were going to be fine, but you couldn’t assure Carisi because you were no longer fine. You were angry, disappointed, and most of all, afraid of letting someone in again.

               “Ms. Reynolds, I’m Detective Y/LN and this is my partner, Detective Carisi. We’re here to follow up on your report that you were attacked earlier today,” You sat down in a chair next to the hospital bed that Georgia was sat upon, legs crossed at the ankles and hands intertwined in her lap. Her youthful face was battered with bruises that already began to form, showcasing the brutality of her attack. Her right eye was swollen and you noticed stitches right next to her hairline. Her lip was busted and had crusted blood on the wound that blended in with the red lipstick she was originally donning at her celebration. Like Carisi predicted, her hair showed evidence of a professional touch through a sophisticated bun atop her head, but it was trashed during the senseless attack. Her mother was silent as she sat on the opposite side of the room, head in her hands. As you sat there gazing at Georgia, Carisi stood next to you, notepad ready to record information.

               “What do you want to know?” Georgia nervously responded. She gazed at you and ignored Carisi, more than likely because he was a man.

               “Why don’t you tell us what happened?” Carisi interjected, ruining the silent trust that was beginning to form between you and Georgia, woman to woman. You turned and glared at Carisi who never took his eyes off of Georgia. She swallowed hard as she met Carisi’s gaze.

               “I, uh, I was at my birthday party at the Marigold Plaza. I had been planning it since I turned fifteen. About an hour after it started, I had to use the bathroom so I went in there and while I was washing my hands, someone jumped out from one of the stalls and put a knife to my throat,” Georgia’s eyes started to water with the memories of the recent past. You reached out and grabbed her hand, assuring her that she was okay. Her lips started to curve into a frown as she began to fight the urge to bawl for what was probably the millionth time that day, all the while her mother still sat there motionless and unresponsive. Something rang to you as strange about her.

               Georgia swallowed her emotions and continued to walk you both through the events. “So, he, uh, had the knife to my throat and said if I screamed that he would kill me. He hiked up my dress and forced himself inside of me. He beat me while he did it, hence the stuff on my face,” She continued as she pointed to the painful markings on her mug. “After he finished, he ordered me to walk outside the bathroom and to not come back. He said if I told anybody, he would kill me and my family. After that, I ran to a security guard who worked for the Plaza and he took it from there,”

               Georgia looked as if she were going to cry again, but you were quick to prevent it. “Listen, Georgia. You did the right thing with reporting this. No one should have to go through what you went through-,”

               “And when we find this guy, we’re gonna make him pay for what he did to you. He’s not gonna know what hit him. He’s gonna get what he deserves in that dark cell at night when he feels someone rubbing on-,” Carisi interrupted. You couldn’t believe that he was making active threats against the rapist in front of one of his victims. There were two golden rules among cops, especially SVU: do not promise anything to the victims and do not make threats towards the perps. There was no telling if you were even going to be able to find this guy, let alone give him prison time. Sonny overstepped his authority, and you were pissed.

               You coughed in an irritated manner and turned to look up at the detective. “Carisi, could you step into the hallway, please? Just for a second?”

               Carisi nodded his head and he and his trusty notepad evacuated the room, leaving you alone with Georgia and her mother. You hoped Georgia could recover from the off-putting comments that Carisi let slip from his mouth.

               “Georgia, do you remember anyone at the party who pegged you as odd or creepy?” You questioned her. She shook her head. “Was there anything about the guy that stood out to you? A smell? A tattoo? Something he said?” She shook her head once again. You could tell he clammed back up after Carisi’s little tirade. “Alright. Well, you give us a call if you remember anything, okay?” You spoke to her, handing her a card with your number on it. She nodded her head as you made your way out of the room, shutting the door behind you. Carisi was standing outside, leaned against the white brick wall of the hospice. He seemed unaware of his wrong doing which pissed you off even more. You walked right past him, heading for the elevator. He jogged through the hall to catch up with you, meeting you as the doors opened. You walked inside, pressed the ground floor, and stood there in silence. You couldn’t believe how stupid you were for even thinking for a split second that another partner would work out. Benson was wrong about this guy; he was obnoxious, hard headed, and inappropriate. He didn’t know his boundaries as a partner or a cop. This guy was a piece of work and didn’t even know it.

               “You okay?” He asked as he stood across the elevator, evaluating your expression. You turned your tongue in your mouth, deciding whether you should say something or not.

               “Yeah. I’m fine, just let me do the talking for now on,” You responded coldly. The doors swung open and you didn’t hesitate to depart the enclosed area and enter the parking garage. You marched over to the car and slammed yourself down in the drivers’ seat, barely waiting for Carisi and his saddened face to sit down before you began to pull out of the parking spot. You two sat in silence on the car ride to the crime scene. You knew that Nick would have never said something so stupid. You knew that Nick would never have ruined a relationship with a victim like that.

winbesters:

Title: Filling the Hole (Part One)

Author: winbesters

Word Count: 1263

Character(s): Sonny Carisi, Olivia Benson

Summary: Since Nick Amaro left, you haven’t had a partner. Benson thinks it’s time you found a new one. 

Trigger Warnings: None

A/N: If you read this, I would appreciate a like or a message telling me so! I would like to continue with this, but only if a few people are actually reading it, so I’ll base my continuation on that. Thank you!

It had been two months since Nick left. There was hole within the squad, the precinct, but most importantly in you. You had never been one for partners- in school you always did projects alone, yet this hurt more than you could say. It wasn’t like you two were romantic, but the feeling tugging at your heart was more like losing a family member in a horrific, fiery car accident. A car accident that left the desk across from you empty and void of a body. 

Of course, Amanda and Finn were still intact and working cases with you, but it wasn’t the same like having a person that you knew you could always depend on, someone who would lie to Benson for you, someone who would take a bullet for you and vice versa. And on the subject of Benson, it wasn’t like she wasn’t trying to find a replacement, which of course infuriated you at the thought. Only two days after Amaro walked out that door, she hired a hick from South Carolina, who inadvertently ended up getting fired only three days later after complaints of sexual harassment by female cops in the building made their way to Benson. Thinking that you needed more time to process that the man who had been by your side for two years was gone, Benson gave you two more weeks without a partner, but ended up hiring a know-it-all from Bronx the following the week, who happened to quit four weeks later after someone hid a street rat in the lower compartment of his desk. Hmm, wonder who that would have been?

               After another two weeks, you were still alone. You felt guilty every time you went with Finn or Amanda because that meant one of their partners was always stuck with desk duty, so you took on the role of filing paperwork a majority of the time which was less than thrilling. The adventure-seeking blood running through your veins yearned to get back in the streets and take creeps down, but you stayed put to avoid your will to be alone getting in the way of your relationships with your coworkers. As you typed up the report on the latest case, you were shocked to hear Benson call your name from her office. As you turned and looked behind you, you saw her standing in the doorway with a file in her hand, motioning you towards her. You plucked the earbuds out of your ears and leapt up, striding over to her doorway. She held her arms out to show you in first as she followed behind. You stopped midway into the room and studied the desk which was filled to the brim with paperwork. God bless Benson and her dedication, you thought. Benson waltzed in and leaned on her desk, facing you while still clasping the file.

               “Detective Y/L/N, this is your new partner, Dominick Carisi.” Her voice shot out and she pointed to your left to reveal a man standing next to you, whom you even failed to notice. His hair was slicked back with what was presumed to be some of the thickest oil known to man, and his lips were curved into a polite smile. Wrinkles outlined his bright, hilariously hopeful eyes that glared at you while he held his hand out for a shake. You grasped onto his bony, yet strong fist and gave him a cautious smile. What was Benson thinking, bringing you another partner? Didn’t she know by now that you work best alone? Alright, not best, but better? You didn’t have to worry about another soul other than yourself. You didn’t have to worry about someone like you did for Nick ever again.

               “I-a, I go by Sonny, but nice to meet you,” You flashed your small smile again while he enthusiastically shook your hand up and down, almost as if he were trying to yank your arm out of its socket.

               You took your hand away, crossing your arms over your chest. “You can call me Y/N. Nice to meet you, too,” You replied. You could feel Benson’s glare on you like the fiery flames of hell.

               “I can’t wait to start working with you. I’ve heard nothing but great things about this squad and-,” He began rambling like a little child at the carnival, unsure of what ride he wanted to throw up on first.

               “Y/L/N,” Benson cut him off, thankfully. You started to feel embarrassed for the kid. “If you will, show Carisi to his new desk and introduce him to everyone, show him the ropes,”

               You smacked your lips in annoyance which you tried to cover. “You got it, boss,” Carisi still stood there like an excited puppy about to receive his first belly scratch.

               “But first, stay in here for a bit. Carisi, could you wait outside for a seond? And shut the door?” Benson requested as she stared at Sonny with the same look a mother would give to a child. He obliged and left the room, leaving you and your boss alone together.

               You stared at her and took a deep breath, preparing you for whatever lecture you were about to receive.

               “Y/N, I want you to give this one a chance. Please, for the sake of the squad,” She started as you rolled your eyes. You should have known this would be about him. This proves you were better off without a partner; you wouldn’t be getting talked down to if it weren’t for him. “I know that you butted heads with the last two, but I feel like Carisi is the guy for the job. Albeit, his perkiness can be a little obnoxious,” Thank god she said it before you could. “But I think he is the type of partner you need. His last sergeant said that he’s dedicated, loyal, and stands up for what’s right. He’s basically you in a nutshell, which is the type of detective I want working for Special Victims. I hope that you can put aside your pain from Nick’s departure-,”

               “Please, don’t talk about him,” You interjected, raising your finger to her while you paced back and forth from nervousness. She held her hands up to her chest, palms to you as if she were surrendering.

               “I’m sorry. Just please give this one a shot, Y/N. For me, for the squad, and for you,” She finished, giving you a stern yet caring look that breached into your heart. Benson always had a way of getting things across to people so that they could understand it better emotionally, and she was damn good at it. You stopped pacing and stared her for a second, but then dragged your eyes to the floor.

               “Fine. I’ll do it for you and the squad,” You began to tap your toes on the floor in anxiety as you heard her shuffle to stand up.

               “I was hoping you’d say that,” She said with a childlike smile, handing you the file that was in her hand. You took it and opened it, gazing over the paperwork that consisted of a photo of a young girl with bruising on her face, along with papers on a police report of an assault. “This is a report I just got from the cops in Syracuse. You and Carisi go meet the girl at the hospital. Good luck,”

               You couldn’t help but let a small grin sprawl across your face at the chance to get back in the action. Maybe having a partner wasn’t going to be so bad. Maybe.

Title: Bad Boys

Author: winbesters 

Request: “you said you were in a Dean mood so can you write kinda something about Dean reaction to seeing you being taken away in like a cop car due to them thinking that you actually murdered someone not a monster?” - anonymous

Word Count: 573

Trigger Warnings: Aggressiveness, Mention of Murder

Fic:

              Hands riddled your hips like frenzied frat boys at a strip club. It wasn’t the romantic frisking that would lead to hot sex and a shameful breakfast in the morning, but rough handling at the hands of brutal cops who had assumed the worst. You always knew one day your job would catch up to you, but not like this. Maybe you would be sleeping and a vamp would suck you dry- and not in the hot way. Maybe an angel would get pissed and burn your pupils out. There was no way of telling, but you never thought it would be getting arrested for murder. You had a reason to kill Bob Newton. He was a werewolf that had broken (and eaten) too many hearts. However, you couldn’t alert the authorities to that startling information for they would definitely let you rot away in an asylum.

               “You gotta be so rough?” You interrogated, your voice mushed from your cheek being squished against the glass on the cop car. You could feel the man’s hot breath on your neck as he continued to pat you down for weapons.

               “It’s part of the job, ma’am. Y/N, You are under arrest. Anything you say can and will-,”

               “Hey! What the hell is going on? There a problem officer?” Dean’s crude voice splashed into the night air like a frightened fish back into the water. The cop halted in his words as he finished cuffing your wrists behind your back. It was times like this you wished you had a kink for being tied up so it would be slightly more enjoyable. You peeled your sticky skin off of the window and eyed Dean has he waltzed over to the vehicle, ID in hand and a suit covering his bones.  

               The cop immediately had a sense of trepidation and anxiety flood his veins for he could tell this man had some amount of authority. He observed the ID and bit his lip as he stared back to the Winchester. “Yes, sir. I have suspicions that she committed a felony. A local man was murdered in his home, and DNA evidence points to her. I was just arresting her and was about to bring her in,”

               Dean nodded his head in understanding. He slid over to you and flicked the silver handcuffs with his nails and looked back at the cop and his name tag. “Officer Pillot, unhand this federal agent. She is currently undercover investigating a string of murders across country. Her DNA was found at the crime scene due to the fact that she was able to investigate it first, being a ‘fed’, after all. I’m sure that someone must have told you that the FBI was involved, right? You don’t want me to tell your chief that you tried to apprehend a federal agent who was just trying to do her job, right?”

               You raised your eyebrows in amazement at the improvised rant and the cop’s voice stuttered. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry. Please don’t tell my boss. I promise I’ll let you guys handle the case,”

               He flung himself quickly over and undid the handcuffs and didn’t hesitate to flee in his obnoxious vehicle. You put your hands on your hips and stared at the eldest Winchester. “That was quick thinking, Dean. I’ve never seen someone lie as well as you,”

               “I hate you, Y/N,” He smirked, lying once again.

               “Hate you, too, Winchester,”

Title: My Flower

Requested by: castieltheangelic

Author: winbesters

Word Count: 370

Trigger Warnings: Mention of Torture
A/N: Sorry it’s so short. I haven’t been feeling well. 

Fic:

                 His arms were around your waist.  There was no need to add any more of a description. That in itself was perfect enough. His arm draping over your hip felt like a weight of comfort that you wouldn’t mind holding you down for eternity. His hot breath lazily flowed from his nose and pleasantly rubbed your skin that you wished could be even closer to his, but it was physically impossible. You were the two halves that were released from Pandora’s box that were finally reunited.

               Reluctantly, you pulled your head away from the crook of his warm neck, his scruff scraping your cheek as you did so. You had to look into those eyes once again. They brought you a level of comfort that felt surreal. His eyelids flickered open and his irises absorbed you like a flower in the sun;  ironically, he was your flower. You watched him grow by the nurture of your sunlight- kindness. You watched his sprout leaves by your water- love.  You were never going to let him wilt. His lips curved into a slight grin as his hand glided up your side and up to your head, brushing your hair behind your ear ever so carefully.

               “Hello there, stranger,” His raspy voice sounded like rocks being scraped on pavement; it was hoarse from the pleading and yelling that he had done the day before. There was a scratch next to his left eyebrow, but the scarlet blood was now dried, preserving the rest of the liquid underneath. “You sleep well?”

               “Because you’re here,” You replied sleepily, you both sprouting slight smiles. It was too early in the morning to be sporting bright grins, but God, did he make you want to. You slowly slid your head closer to his, combining your lips. They were surprisingly soft against yours as they meshed lovingly. You both reluctantly pulled away for air as you glared at each other. Just yesterday, he was being tortured beyond what anyone’s mind could ever conceive, but now he was here with you and you thought the world of that. You could be living in a box without any food, but If Castiel was there, you would feel warm and full.

Title: Miracles Happen

Author: erasedean

Request: Can you write a dean x reader where Dean walks in on the reader singing and dancing to Miracles Happen (the girl version) from The Princess Diaries and a bunch of fluff 

-  jensensfreckleddick (aka ari my love)

Word Count: 492

Triggers: None

Fic:

Your week had been shit. You didn’t get to sleep in, your car sputtered out its final miles in life, and you even forgot to take your birth control two times not that it was too terribly important. It wasn’t like you were getting any action anyway. To let loose, you found yourself swinging your hips in front of your mirror as if you were a stripper who owed someone money the next day. Your room in the bunker was your solace in a way. It was an escape from all of the monsters, monstrosities, and murky creatures that lurked around every corner. But for now, this was your time and that was no time to think of such things.

               “Miracles happen once in a while,” You belted from your diaphragm with such a force it threatened to knock down every brick that held the rustic structure together. You grabbed your brush from the vanity and held it to your mouth passionately as your let your emotions flow through the melody. ”You showed me dreams come to life, that taking a chance on us was right,” You leaped onto your mattress that released a crunch from the springs while you continued your performance with no notice of the figure standing in the door way leaning on the frame, a smile plastered on his chapped lips. “All things come with a little time,-“

               “When you believe…” Dean finished, the smirk remained in its habitat. You immediately froze on impact in embarrassment and shock. You had the hunter cat-like skills, but you had failed to notice him in every way. He waltzed from the door frame and over to your stage where he held out his hand, but you rejected it and turned the other way with your hair dramatically hanging over your shoulder.

               “I’m sorry, but I refuse help from a fan. I’m too famous for you to touch me. I’m a world-renowned singer, you know,” You kidded to hide your embarrassment as you batted your lashes.

               Dean placed his hand on his chest and huffed out jokingly as if he were offended as he walked around to the other side of the bed to face him. He glazed up at you from your height as you both tried to hide your smiles. “Well, I’m actually famous, too. I’m a known criminal. I steal hearts,”

               You shoved your shoulders back as you chortled at the ridiculous remark. He wrapped his arms around your calves as he lifted you off the bed and slid his arms to your hips while your feet finally made contact with the ground. “You are such an idiot. You know that?”

               Dean’s eyes crinkled around the edges as he grinned shyly, looking into your eyes deeply as if you were the only thing in the world. “Yeah, but I’m your idiot,” He spoke, placing his lips on yours as naturally as his first drink of coffee in the morning.

Title: Clingy

Author: erasedean

Word Count: 983

Triggers: Cursing

A/N: This was not meant to be good to any extent. I got the idea for it and I thought it was hilarious. Enjoy!

Fic:

                    You were gazing at the man who was complaining to his older brother about something that was completely ridiculous. He was sitting in a worn, beaten chair in the library across from Dean as his voice spoke aloud.

               “I don’t know, Dean. She was too clingy and I just couldn’t take it. I tried, man. I did. God, I feel like you,” Sam whimpered as he covered his face with his hands in shame. Dean rolled his eyes at the remark and snapped the newspaper that he was holding in front of himself as his legs were propped up on a chair across from him. As you acknowledged what Sam said, you couldn’t help but get a little heated. ‘Too clingy’? Sam was the epitome of clingy. Once you went to the bathroom without telling him and he almost sent out an Amber Alert. And the girl he was talking about, she couldn’t have texted him about meeting up again more than twice in the past four weeks. On behalf of the women in the world, you knew you had to act.

                       You roamed from the doorway of the library and marched your way over to the complainer. With a thump, you plopped down into his lap as he vibrated with shock from the surprise attack. Dean glanced up from his paper to gaze at the sight in confusion, but went back to his reading- or hidden porn magazine.

                “Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” Sam asked as he placed one arm around your waist and the other on your thigh, a little more higher than God would approve of. He was giving you a smirk as he squeezed your skin slightly with intrigue. You gave him a sly smile in return.

               “Well, I heard you talking about how some girls can just be so clingy, so I decided to show you what ‘clingy’ really is,” You flashed him a quick, fake smile as his brows furrowed in bewilderment. His lips did that half-smile, half-frown thing they do whenever he is enthused.

               “And how do you expect to do that?” He inquired. You lifted your arms and laced them around his neck lovingly, but that sentimental emotion was about to be crushed.

               “By clinging to you all day, literally,” A fake smile once again pervaded your face while he chortled. Dean slammed his newspaper down on the table, folded his arms across his chest, and looked on in amusement. “Sam Winchester, I am your new clingy one-night stand,”

               Dean chuckled to himself as he began to stand up. “The one of many…Welcome to the club, Y/N,”

             A few moments later, Sam had gotten up and waltzed his way into the kitchen where he was attempting to reach into the fridge to make a sandwich. You had wrapped your legs around his waist as if you were prepared to do the down and dirty, but this was a lot more fun than that. Dean was propped up against the island as he watched the embodiment of struggle maim his brother. You had your head propped on his right shoulder and you and Dean shared smiles. Sam finally accomplished his mission of returning the mustard to the fridge as he turned towards his brother who he hadn’t noticed. Dean received a massive eye roll from his younger brother because he knew he was there to just watch.

               “How you doin’ over there, Y/N?” Dean questioned to the back of your body. You were now facing the fridge. Sam was attempting to pick up his sandwich.

               “Well, I’m a little tired. My legs are getting sore. Sam, get a boner or something so I have something to prop up on,” You relayed as Dean let out a child-like laughter at the remark. The younger Winchester glared at his brother with murderous intent.

               “Maybe if you got off of me, you could go lie down and I could eat my sandwich in peace without a human body blocking the way,” He sassed, but it didn’t affect you at all.

               “I’m sorry, Sam. It’s just that girls can be so clingy. I just can’t peel myself away from you,” You kidded as you stared him in the eyes lovingly. “I love you, Sammy,”

               He shared the same look he had given Dean earlier with you. “Dean, do you remember that one time I told you that ‘Sammy’ was a chubby twelve year-old? Well, he’s not going to be chubby because he’s going to die from starvation,”
               “Just apologize, man. Call that girl and meet up with her just to close things up. Speaking of closing things, Y/N, I’ve never seen a girl hold her legs open that long for Sam,” He chuckled as he waltzed away from the travesty in the kitchen.

               As you both stood there while Sam tried to find some way to cram the nutrients into his mouth, a loud rumble erupted into the room. You furrowed your brows as Sam’s eyes shot wide open with shock. “You that damn hungry?” You questioned him.

               “Y/N, this isn’t for food. This is for-,” His sentence was cut off as another rumble tore through the air, his legs charging into panic towards the bathroom.

               You started to scream as you realized what was happening. “No, no, no , no! Sam let me get off!” You could have sworn tears were starting to form. “Let me down you, ass! I don’t want to see yours!” However, he didn’t listen to you. He dodged into the bathroom and slammed the door shut and right before the deed was about to set into action, you were able to drop from his body and run from the gas chamber. You bent over with your hands on your knees outside of the door, reflecting on your close encounter.

          Dean emerged from the hallway. “I’m telling you, he’s lethal after one burrito.”

Title: Doctor, Doctor

Author: imaginesupernaturally

Request:  I’m on mobile so I don’t know if I’m doing this right. Sorry if I’m not! Maybe an imagine or one shot about how the reader can’t open a medicine bottle and goes next door (Sam and Dean’s hotel) to ask if they could. Instead they see a very wounded Winchester who needs help. Panic ensues.

Word Count: 1,996

Trigger Warnings: Cursing, Pills, Blood

Fic:
               A headache swam through your head about as elegantly as an elephant in a watering hole. Pounding pain slid through every particle inside of your braid as you raised your hand to rub the area, which was no panacea. However, an old bottle of Midol you carried in your purse could maybe do the trick. You quickly dove into the leather holy grail and retrieved an ancient bottle of pain relievers that were so old, Jesus might’ve taken a few back in the day. You gripped the grooved cap and began to twist it, but it was to no avail. The inferior plastic was no match for your strength, but apparently something else was. Spilt nail polish outlined the crease where the cap met the bottle, the red liquid mocking you as it kept you away from your cure. “Okay… God is testing me right now,” You muttered as you laid the bottle down on table that held the television, and began to slugger it with your heels. Click, click, click! The beating helped nothing except to strengthen the pain in your head that was already near paralyzing. If the headache had been Popeye, it was like it had just eaten spinach.               

  “Damn it!” You sighed as you focused on a scuffle going on outside. Feet were shuffling hurriedly past you door and stopped next door as keys rattled around. A slight groan was able to be heard from one of the people outside, presumably a man from the gruffness of it. Soon, the door was open and the flooded in, quickly throwing their bags aside and slamming the door shut. You stood there, looking down at the irritating bottle on the table, to the door, and then to the wall right ahead of you as if you could see your neighbors through the paneling. An idea popped into your head which might not have been the safest, yet you convinced yourself that they possibly weren’t murderers. You weren’t in the mood to handle murderers. You took a leap of faith and stepped from your room and walked swiftly to the room to your right, hesitating as you stared at the army green door that was worn from years of abuse and drug raids, probably.  You reluctantly raised your hand as your knuckles collided with the weakened wood, creating the most awful sounding knock ever. Well, it was to you since you had Satan in your head dancing around.               

  A moment passed and the door didn’t budge. Maybe it was a sign from God that these people were murderers and that you shouldn’t bother them? Oh, screw it.             

    As you lifted your hand to knock once again, the door cracked slightly to reveal one green eye peering from the small space. You couldn’t see much of him, but you could tell he was a man of strong stature. You lowered your hand as you prepared your speech. “Hi, uh, I’m Y/N. I was wondering if you could open this bottle. It’s not a homemade bomb or anything, I promise. I just have a headache,” You shook the bottle slightly to show that it was harmless.                 His eye flew to the bottle then it flung back to you. “How many you have in there?” He asked. That’s a weird question. Why would he need Midol? Was he on his period?             

   Your eyebrows creased a little as you struggled not to just flee back into your hotel room out of discomfort and embarrassment. “I-uh. Only two I think…” Your head tilted out of confusion.              

   “Mind if I have those?” He asked quickly as he hand flung out, grabbing the bottle from your weak grasp, and slamming the door shut. You stood there for a moment shocked at had what just taken place. Did he just steal your pills? However, this didn’t phase you completely as you began to bang on the door, ignoring the pain in your head for the moment. You were more pissed off than in pain at this point with your fists colliding with the worn paint, and your foot occasionally kicked the door. With one final kick, the door flung open to reveal the hotel room. A blood trail ran from the door to the bed where another was lying down, his hand over his abdomen as if in pain. His face was contorted in pain as he winced and let out a groan of pain, which was what you heard outside earlier. The man who had stolen your pills emerged from the bathroom with them in his hand and a glass of water in the other. He acknowledged your presence, but continued to move towards the other man as he forced the pills down his throat. The man on the bed gagged slightly, but let the medicine slide down his throat. Most people would run out the door with no question, yet you didn’t. You were a med student, so you weren’t scared of blood and you figured you could use that skill at the moment.               

 Your hand reached out and shut the door as you slid over on the other side of the man. You took off your jacket and laid it across the man’s abdomen as he flinched in pain. The other man looked at you in confusion. “What the hell are you doing?”             

   “I’m a doctor,” You lied. Well, you would be one in a few years. “Do me a favor and grab the pillow cases over there and apply them to this wound as I get some supplies from my car. The man didn’t falter one bit as he ran over and began to undress the feather pillows. You stared at the injured man as his eyes tightened in pain. “Hey,” You said as you rubbed his arm gently and placed his hand on your now ex-jacket. “I know this is gonna suck, but put pressure on your stomach until I get back, okay?” He nodded his head in agreement as you fled the room, grabbed your supplies, and headed back. The healthy man was now attempted to add pressure without injuring him further. You sat the supply box down and began to filter through the instruments. Thank God you kept this for emergencies.                

 “What happened?” You asked as you applied rubber gloves on your hands. If the situation hadn’t been so tense, you could have mistaken it for a prostate exam since you were alone with two men in a room.         

       “Gunshot. Close range. It got him right on his side,” The man explained. “I’m Dean. This is my brother Sam.”               

  You nodded your head to them both as you walked closer to the victim. “Alright, Sam. You have two choices. I can either get Dean to knock you out and you’ll wake up with a terrible headache, or you could stay awake while I remove the bullet. I see no blood underneath you, so the bullet didn’t pass all the way through. If I don’t remove it, you could have complications down the line, like not being able to board planes because you set off the metal detector,” The older brother gazed at you with seriousness draping across his face. “Okie dokie. Not the time for jokes,” You muttered embarrassingly while you began to remove the jacket and pillow cases.          

       “I’ll stay awake-,”            

    “Sammy, are you sure? I have no problem putting your lights out,” Dean admitted as he glared into his brother’s eyes with compassion. Sam nodded his head as his lips pursed with the pain that he was about to experience. “You better know what you’re doing,” He coldly directed towards you.      

           “I could do this in my sleep, sir,” You lied once again. You could actually do it in your sleep if you counted dreams. “Now, Dean, whenever you see blood seep out and bubble up from the wound, I need you to dab it with the pillow cases to absorb the blood so I can see better, okay? Don’t rub,”                You lowered your hands upon the wound, your left hand holding the flashlight and your right with a long pair of tweezers. You gazed around at first to see the damage, but you couldn’t access it. There was too much blood, yet you had to push on anyway. Someone’s life depended on it. You carefully slid the tweezers down into his side, as he moaned slightly. Dean reached over and dabbed the area which thankfully removed some of the blood that bubbled up. As you slowly dug the tweezers in deeper, you finally hit something that was too hard to be an organ or a vein. You watched Sam’s face every time you touched it for a reaction, but there wasn’t any. “This is the part that sucks, Sam,” You confessed as you gazed at him. He was obviously trying to hide the discomfort of having a pair of tweezers in his abdomen. “I found the bullet and now I can extract it. It didn’t hit any organs so it won’t hurt nearly as bad as it would. I’m going to remove it slowly so I don’t cause any excess damage, okay?”             

   Sam nodded as strongly as he could while his hand wrapped around his brother’s in anticipation and anxiety. Dean looked at with you and blinked with reassurance as if he finally had faith in you. You put the flashlight down, grabbed a pillowcase and circled it around the wound that was bound the flood whenever the bullet was removed. You slowly tugged on the bullet which caused Sam to let out a shriek of pain while blood flooded from the hole and enveloped your hand.           

     “Sammy, it’s okay. I promise. She’s doing good. Just pretend you’re a woman and you’re having a baby, alright?” He was trying to soothe his brother, at least. Dean’s eyes swam to yours as he shrugged his shoulders in defense. You shook your head in response and went back to your diligent work. This time, you managed to pluck the bullet even farther out, almost removing it completely. Sam screamed in agony as tears began to stream down his cheeks and onto the fabric beneath him. Dean was also becoming watery-eyed from watching his brother suffer from so much torment.           

      “Okay. This is the last pull, okay?” You reassured as you tightened the tweezers on the bullet once more and removed it from the cavity, leaving a pool of blood behind. You quickly covered the wound with cloth and let the bleeding halt before you sewed him up, ending the doctor visit for good.                 After the needle left his skin for the last time, he moaned faintly, but it was one of relief rather than pain. He stared at you in admiration. “I still hurt like a bitch, but thank you. You know, for saving my life. You’re a good doctor,” He reassured you which caused a small smile to form on your face.                

 “Truth is, I’m not a doctor…” You slid from your gritted teeth as Sam furrowed his brown and Dean swung around in shock. “Guys, I’m kidding! Gosh,” You lied once again, realizing the truth would not help you in this case. “Well, I guess I should go back to my room. If either of you get any more gunshot wounds, just give me a call, or you know, steal my meds again,” You chuckled awkwardly as you began to reach for the door.       

          Dean’s voice broke the air. “Why don’t you bring your stuff over here and hang out with us for a while? We could have a couple drinks and you could keep an eye on your patient,”         

        You placed your hand on the golden doorknob as you bit your lip sweetly and gazed at the man. “Sure. Just let me check on the stab victim in room 304 real quick,” You kidded as you waltzed to your room to grab your things, anticipating to get back to your operating room.

imaginesupernaturally:

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Title: The C-Team, Chapter Three

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Author: walkingdean

Word Count: 2,854

Trigger Warnings: Blood, Cursing, Death

Summary: TFW & the reader investigate the house where the case happened when they realize what did it, and that it’s striking again. 

Fic:

    The air inside of the rustic car consisted of different emotions from every contemplating body in the vehicle. The rugged driver tugged at the gearshift with his leather jacket hanging just over his wrist comfortably, parking the beloved contraption. His brain was pumping with different reflections that he attempted to understand. A feeling of reluctance overcame him for he did not await the future- he never has due to the life that he has lived so far. The longer he lived, the more suffering he endured such as going to hell, his brother losing his soul, and the worst fate of all- the death of his parents that he had never recovered from. He hadn’t known the prophet in the backseat for long. Hell, he had only known her for about four hours at this point, but he didn’t want her to die. He never wanted anyone to die while the Winchesters were reigning over a case, yet it was different with her. She was so innocent to what she could do with her abilities and Dean felt as if he had to guide her because he had nursed Sam during his tribulations years ago with his abilities from the Yellow-Eyed Demon, Azazel. Call it poetic, but Dean felt that he was meant to be her shepherd- if shepherds had the overwhelming feeling that they were going to fall in love with the sheep. On the other hand, Sam had formed the idea that she could almost act like a sister in his life. He felt no romantic attraction for he felt Dean could barely keep his pants on around her, so whatever sort of relationship he felt with her was completely platonic. However, Castiel felt slight resentment towards her due to the past of her type of prophet and the literal hell that they had risen up in the past.  The angel was wary of her and his prediction that he hoped would not come to fruition. And finally, the prophet sat in the back seat just attempting to process what had happened in the past week; she had witnessed a murder, sent to a mental institution, and was now in a car with two supernatural hunters and an angel of the Lord. And you thought your week has been crazy?

               Dean stumbled out of the Impala as his eyes adjusted to the harsh sunlight that struck down on the ground like rain during a hurricane. The rest of the crew quickly followed behind, yet she had hesitation about getting out. The yellow hazard tape that dressed the front yard of the Peterson house was almost as vibrant as the blood that had spilt out of the youngest member of the clan just days ago. The grass was annoyingly green and happy unlike the rest of the houses that rested on the block. No more cop cars harassed the street for they took all of the evidence that they could and called it quits on the investigation; she had it in the back of her mind that the cops probably assumed her as the prime suspect as of now, but she could barely care. She just wanted the hideous being that took an innocent life off the streets.

               “So, why exactly do we have to come back here?” She questioned as she struggled to catch up with the crew. “I’m pretty sure the cops would have found anything worthwhile,”

               Dean shook his head in disagreement has he charged on towards the house of horrors, or rather his ‘job’ in his point of view. Sam was matching him in his stride while Castiel was behind them and the prophet followed. “The cops would look for anything physical: weapons, blood, signs of a struggle. We get that information from them, which we don’t need because we have you, and then we look at the unnatural side of the case: smells, plasmas or ectoplasm, and the behavior of the flesh-easting bastard. We’re like the CSI cast revamped, I guess,”

               Sam casted a side glance to his brother, his eyebrow cocked and a smirk spread on his lips. “I thought you said you hated procedural cop shows? Are you watching them like you watch Doctor Sexy?”

               Castiel had a grin grow like a wildflower on his face at the banter that was nonetheless true. Dean rolled his eyes dramatically as his cheeks blushed in embarrassment. “Anyhow, if you could just go inside the house and get any vibes from the place that have importance, let us know. We’ll be doing the investigating,”

               Dean saw no harm in his directions, yet irritation bubbled up inside the angelic being for he saw it as Dean encouraging the ticking time bomb to take advantage of her powers and increase their effectiveness. She still had no clue as to what she possessed, and Castiel wanted to keep it that way, but Dean wasn’t helping. Cas felt as if Dean was doing it on purpose as he could tell that Dean had already formed a connection with the prophet; he probably thought that if she found out what she really was, she could learn to control it sooner but the angel had his doubts with that scenario. Hopefully, she would become scared enough of what she can do that she’ll stop using her abilities for good.

     Whenever Dean rested his hand on the doorknob to the front door after he had finished picking it, she could feel her chest swell tremendously with anticipation and reluctance. Of course, she wanted to help in any fashion she could for Jacob deserved that at the least, but she was circumspect to even setting the sole of her foot within the haunted house. The brothers and the angel had already made their way inside and were poking around the kitchen and living room that looked the exact same way it did the last time she was there. She could picture Jacob running around in his Hawkeye pajamas that he always got picked on for by other kids when he mentioned it. He wasn’t a huge fan of the Hulk, Iron Man, or Captain America. He always sided with the lesser known, the underdog without even realizing it. He had a good heart that was horrifically ripped from him.

      Castiel stood inside of the home, waiting for the prophet to breach into the stained area. “Are you coming?” He asked. There was a hint of annoyance that wasn’t hidden very well in his voice. Sam and Dean glanced behind them to see the prophet still standing on the porch, then when back to plundering through cabinets and pulling out their EMF reader to scan around. They didn’t worry too much because they assumed it wouldn’t be the easiest thing for her to come back to the unholy ground, but Castiel lacked the human knowledge to understand that. She glared at him with her eyes beginning to water. She placed a foot on the hardwood flooring which sent shocks of electricity through her legs and up to her brain. Soon enough, her entire body was inside as she decided to stride up the stairs to the bedroom that Jacob took his last breath in. As she walked down the lengthy hall, the aura of the house was becoming a force to reckon with. Along with the ability to see spirits, the power to get energy from people, places, and things also came along with the package for her. Whenever she was first hired, she could tell the Peterson’s were good-natured, do-well people that would kill a fly. Whenever she had shaken Mr. Peterson’s hand, she received the knowledge that he had been in New York whenever 9/11 had taken place; he was one of the citizens that helped rescue stranded victims on the first couple of bottom floors. He was meant to die that day, but he didn’t. And she knew this. Whenever she had hugged Mrs. Peterson, she learned that she had recently had a miscarriage and it was to be a girl, but she lost it after she was in a car accident two months before. All of this was learned the first time she met the family when she responded to their ad in the paper. She has yet to touch either of the Winchester’s or Castiel with her hands, so she wasn’t too familiar with their back story, but the vibe they gave off was coated in pain and misfortune. Most people had this, but it was only for a moment because something put them in a bad mood. However, these two had a stigma about them that made them seem like swirling vortexes of suffering.

     She came to the end of the hall that led into Jacob’s messy room. Legos and toy arrows from his Hawkeye playset were always scattered around like lethal, fun booby traps that could make a person want to amputate their foot if they were to put their weight on it. Yellow tape outlined where his body was devoured on the carpet; blood still stained the white flooring like fine wine that was spilt too soon. She rested her head on the archway and crossed her arms in thought. She was fighting hard not to cry, especially since she didn’t want any of them to see it. Footsteps were ringing behind her as they marched their way up the stairs and made their way to her back, peering over her at the scene.

     “Are you okay, Y/N? It’s okay if you want to go back to the car for a bit,” Sam expressed as his brooding figure glared down at her. His eyes glanced over to the red splatters as his mind tried to fathom what had caused them.

     “Yeah, I’m okay, Sam. It’s just weird being back here. It doesn’t seem real. I’m still expecting Jacob to put his gum in my hair whenever I tell him he can’t go outside,” She chuckled faintly to herself as she lifted her head off of the arch and strode into the bedroom that once housed a kindred soul. Her feet were wary to not intrude on any of the blood or the way that Jacob had “organized” his room with toys scattered everywhere. She placed her hand on the bed which gave her images in her head of him bouncing with jubilee upon the mattress to his parents’ dismay. Sam was poking around the room curiously, opening every drawer and door with expectance. He eventually made his way to the window where he crouched down.

      “Was this open the night that the attack happened?” He questioned her. She stared at him for a moment, trying to remember, but she couldn’t.

      “I’m not sure. Jacob would open it sometimes so he could launch arrows outside on the neighbor’s cat. I can probably get a read off of it and it’ll tell me if it was, if that’s alright,”

      “Yeah, that’s fine. Whatever will work,” Sam agreed as he scooted over to make room for her. She gazed at the glass for what seemed like a millennium trying to prepare herself for what she would see, and Sam could tell there was some hesitation. “Whatever you see, it’ll help us get rid of whatever took him, alright? This is for him. Not for you, Dean, or me. This is for him,”

       His eyes poured into hers deeply which sent a wave of reassurance through her as she placed her hand upon the glass. Image upon imagine soared through her mind as she shut her eyes to see them better play out. First, she saw an older man handling the window as he installed it into the hole in the wall while he was on a ladder outside. That flew from her eyesight as it was replaced with children leaping in front of the window, jumping from couch to couch. They were dressed as if it was the seventies with their short hair and bellbottomed jeans. After that slung itself away, Jacob appeared getting dressed in his favorite pajamas, turned away from the window. It was closed. It slowly started to rise as Jacob turned around to find the source of the noise was something creeping in through the hole. The lock turned violently, but before he could call for help, the being tore into him, rendering him speechless. He could hear her threatening to call his parents which he didn’t want, but he couldn’t open the door. Tears began to run down his face-.

      She yanked her hand away from the paneling before she went even deeper. Tears began to swell in her eyes as her throat closed tighter than a virgin’s legs on Easter. She rubbed her hand on her jeans to rid herself of the oil that she collected from it as she sniffled quietly. Sam stared at her with his eyes growing in concern. “It was closed. I saw the thing open the window from outside,”

      “Are you okay?” He asked. Of course he was concerned that the window had been closed, but he was more preoccupied with the emotional heap in front of him. She nodded her head.

      “Yeah, I’m fine. I just saw more than what was necessary,” The prophet explained as she sat on the floor next to Sam who was still crouching. “So what does the closed window mean?”

    He sighed and decided to give up on talking about her emotions. “Well, while you were doing that, whatever it’s called-,”

    “Reading,”

     “Okay, well. While you were reading, I noticed something on the outside of the window,” He revealed as he slid his finger against the outside ledge to reveal a yellow powder coating his finger.

     She furrowed her brows as she leaned in closer to it. “What? That’s just pollen,” She shrugged her shoulders in confusion.

   “Smell it,” He ordered and she did to which he received a face of disgust in return. He smiled softly at the childish reaction. “That’s sulfur. Whenever ghosts are somewhere, they sometimes leave this behind. A ghost wouldn’t need to open the window. It could just walk through walls if it wanted to,”

     She bit her lip in puzzlement. “So, you’re saying we’re hunting something that’s a ghost, but not a ghost?”

    Footsteps were beginning to sound on the stairs. Sam nodded his head. “Yeah, good job. The only thing we have to do is figure out what it is and how to kill it,”

    Dean and Castiel waltzed into the room suavely. Castiel began to fiddle with the Legos on the ground as Dean made his way over to the sitting prophet and younger brother. Dean decided to plop himself down as well. “Thought I’d join the campfire crew. What’s next? Are we going to sing Kumbaya My Lord?”

    Sam and the prophet rolled their eyes as Sam began to relay the information to his brother who had found nothing downstairs. “So, you’re saying we have a monster that’s not a monster, and a ghost that’s not a ghost? What the hell?” Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out the drawing from a few hours ago as he gazed at it. His eyes flickered to her. “If this thing had to resemble any animal, what would it be?”

     Everyone in the room, including the distant Castiel, furrowed their brows in confusion. “I…I guess a human? Arms, legs, a face, a torso,”

      “Sammy, I know what this is. You remember a few years ago whenever we were in Douglas, Georgia and bodies kept going missing from the morgue?”

    Sam nodded his head, but still seemed to not make the connection. “Yeah…but how does this relate?”

     “Well, it turns out it was monster that liked to dine on dead bodies. I think this is the same thing, it’s just gone rogue. It’s killing people to eat their bodies,” Dean’s head bobbed enthusiastically as a lightbulb seemed to illuminate brightly over Sam’s head.

    “Oh, yeah! It was that Jikininki. That would explain why Y/N thought it was a ghost, left sulfur behind, and needed an entryway,”

     The prophet glared at the brothers with her eyes growing bigger by the second. “Okay. I’m sorry, but what the hell is a Jikininki?”

     Dean inhaled as he revealed the information. “It comes from Japanese Buddhism. It’s basically a ghost that’s reincarnated as a monster that feasts on dead bodies as punishment for being greedy in their physical life. In this case, the asswipe has started killing people in order to feed. All we need to know is how to gank the fu-,”

     Dean stopped his sputtering lips in their tracks as he observed the prophet, Sam doing the same. A glazed over look rocked around in her eyes, her mouth faintly hanging open. Dean placed his hand on her shoulder and shook her slightly. “Hey, Y/N. What’s the matter?”

    Her eyes focused back to him quickly as all the blood drained from her face. “It’s back,” She confessed as she returned to stare at a seemingly blank wall that was behind the figure of her mother-who was missing her skin, just like Jacob.

walkingdean:

Title: The C-Team, Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Author: walkingdean

Word Count: 1, 853

Trigger Warnings: Cursing, Mention of Sex, Alcohol

Summary: Dean and the reader may have a connection that’s confusing for them both while Team Free Will learns information about the reader that she doesn’t even know herself. 

Fic:

The crisp gust of wind that had infiltrated everyone’s lungs punched through nostrils and mouths to escape their captivity after the sudden transportation. Dean and Sam’s expressions seemed relatively normal as to where her chest was heaving to understand what had just happened. Those depressing white walls and barred windows were exchanged for a hideously tiled floor and green walls that mimicked the image of what a kid would chuck up at a carnival after a few too many rides on the Tilt-A-Whirl. In fact, her stomach felt as queasy, if not more, than that child. Her eyes drifted to the new figure in the room- one she did not recognize. Something about him gave her a calming sensation, yet it was not the same as what she had received from Dean. This was more of a ‘you’re okay in my presence’ feel.  

               “Thanks, Cas,” Dean murmured as his feet skidded across the tile towards the fridge to retrieve a chilled beer that he felt was well deserved. Sam looked at his brother who had decided to drown the drink before ten o’clock with an irritated glare as he sat down on the bed, turning his eyes to her. His elbows were relaxed comfortably on his thighs with his head tilted upwards. The new man just stood there, glaring at her with an expression not even she could identify.

               After Dean took the first chug, he motioned his arm to the man in the room while his eyes shifted to you in a quick manner. “Y/N, this is Castiel. He’s an angel of the Lord, yada yada yada and all that jazz. He was here for the death of the dinosaurs and the birth of Madonna, not that those two events are too far apart,”

               Castiel dropped his bottom lip slightly as he glared at the loosened-up hunter. “I find Madonna’s music relatable. Yes, this is a material world. However, I am not a girl. But I still relate,” Dean rolled his eyes as he began to plunder through a book bag laying on the table in the small kitchen area. However, the sweet banter did not distract her mind and let the new information evade her understanding. She squinted her eyes slightly as she took a few steps towards Castiel, hiking her finger up as she poked his cheek softly. She repeatedly did this in curiosity for she could not comprehend how an ethereal being could inhabit a body, let alone be able to be touched with her coarse finger. She could even feel his stubble.

               Castiel’s eyes shifted to Sam in fear and concern to which she halted her experimentation. “How did you get in there?” She questioned him. Sam had a small grin form on his lips and Dean let out a chortle at the bluntness and child-like curiosity. Castiel coughed in his throat slightly.

               “A man named Jimmy granted me access to his physical form. His spiritual form resides in heaven now. And Dean, why are you laughing?” He turned his head to face the older brother with confidence as he awaited the answer. Dean strode back into the room with a beer in one hand and a pen and notepad in the other.

               “Ah, no reason. Just reminded me of something I heard in a porno once,” Dean nonchalantly stated as he stood next to her. Castiel tightened his eyes in confusion.

               “Are you talking about the kind of movie that had the pizza man and she couldn’t pay him for his work so she su-,”                

               Sam hurriedly jumped from the bed as he placed a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Hey, Cas. Come with me to the vending machine,” He suggested as he lead the innocent angel out, shutting the door loudly behind them. Dean sat the beer down on the bed side table, sat on the bed, and motioned for her to do the same. She slowly paced herself as she sat down for she did not know his intentions with this, but it was revealed to be harmless. He lifted the pad and pen to her and she stole it from his cracked hands.

               “Alright. To be honest here, Sam and I don’t know what we’re dealing with. We’ve dealt with all kind of things, but we’ve never seen or heard about what you described to us. Just try sketching it out so we can find what we’re hunting. I don’t know whether I should Molotov this fucker or drown him,” His eyes were peering into yours deeply because you two were so close. You could even feel his breath on your neck which smelt of beer.

               She nodded her head and stabbed the pen against the paper to begin the traumatic recreation of the creature. “I can probably do that. I was actually kind of worried when I saw this in your hand because I thought you would ask me to draw you like one of your French girls,” She giggled slightly, her cheeks turning scarlet from the sudden ounce of courage that was foreign to her; something about him made her want to venture out of her comfort. Dean began to rise from the comfy fortress as he made his way to the door with a cheeky smirk tearing his lips apart. Thoughts were running through his head because he wasn’t sure whether he was grinning from the humorous joke or from the closeness of their body’s just moments ago. He soon felt his own cheeks flushing harder than a toilet at a packed football game.

               “I prefer Asians, actually,” He replied as he exited the room to join Sam and Castiel outside. You freakin’ idiot, he thought. First you make a joke about porn and now your fetish? God, what is this girl doing to you? Get a grip. You’re Dean friggin’ Winchester.

               Dean’s line of sight was met with the two men in a deep conversation next to the neglected pool that was littered with leaves, algae, and battered beer cans. His boots scooted against the gravel which alerted the two to his presence in the discussion that was obviously intriguing both of them greatly. “I’ve got her in there drawing-,”

               Sam quickly interrupted his older brother’s train of thought with no hesitation as Castiel’s eyes widened in concern that danced elegantly in his blue eyes. “Cas thinks Y/N is a prophet!”

               The angel gave Sam a glare that was bathed in intense sass then directed his eyes to Dean once more. “I don’t think. I know. Now that Kevin is gone, a new prophet had to be created and she was the next name on the list,” Dean’s mouth dropped slightly while his irises pranced between the angelic being and his brother who were both awaiting a response. However, Castiel’s mouth quickly began to sputter information once again. “But she’s not a prophet like Kevin was with reading the tablets. You remember Chuck and how he could see you two in his dreams? Y/N’s ability is to see spirits, but that type of prophet hasn’t been seen for over 6,000 years,”

               “Wait,” The older Winchester interrupted with his hand raised in disagreement. “So, you’re saying that any medium out there is a prophet? If so, Sam was a little child of God not too long ago, buddy,”

               Castiel heaved a breath of irritation with the hunter’s assumption and cockiness. “No, Dickchester,” Sam tried to hide a smile at the comeback that left the angel’s lips so surely. The corners of his mouth bent down as they usually did when he tried conceal the evidence of amusement. “With the type of ‘medium’ that she is, she can improve her abilities beyond anything we’ve seen. God did away with that breed because of the complications that arose from it, but for some reason there’s a rare prophet sitting in that hotel room,”

               Dean crossed his arms as he absorbed the information while Sam interjected. “What do you mean ‘complications’? What happened?”

               Castiel sighed. “There were a couple plagues, floods, massacres that her kind created on purpose- the typical occurrences that take place in this sin-infested world. God realized that granting a prophet that much ability was dangerous as they were still human and born with sin. I just don’t know why he would allow one to be made now,”

               The three stood in silence as they all glared at the dusty and glass-riddled pavement beneath their feet. Different thoughts were swimming in the tides of everyone’s brains. Sam finally raised his voice. “We can’t kill her. She isn’t deadly, yet,”

               “But she will be,” Dean interjected. “Listen, I don’t wanna throw her away either. She deserves more than that for helping us with this case,”

               Sam pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers in concentration. “I mean, did all of the prophets go power-hungry, Castiel?”
               “Well, no. Only one didn’t fall to sin,” Her murmured as he scuffed his feet against the ground. “He’s known to have built a giant ship and saving many animals by God’s instructions. He lived for so long after the earth stopped it’s flooding so he could help the people who perished in the water deal with their death and move forward. Noah was a good man, but that was a rare case… I’m sorry, Sam, Dean. I don’t think this is going to end well,”

               The younger Winchester released his nose from the pressure by his fingers quickly as he began rambling. Dean could have sworn to God that a brilliant light bulb was glowing above Sam’s head. “When the Earth flooded, that was kind of the end of the world for then, right? Everyone died except Noah, his family, and some animals. Well, isn’t this the end of the world right now for us? Angels are just now getting back into Heaven, Crowley’s turning Hell into some sort of industrialized powerhouse, and God’s been vacant for a while. If this is the end for us and the end worked for Noah, then why can’t it work for Y/N?” Sam searched for validation from his audience which he received immediately from Dean, yet Castiel was still reluctant on his opinion.

               The angel stared at the door to the motel room that housed the dangerous weapon, but flashed his pupils back to the man on the soap box. “I don’t know if this will work, but there’s a chance it could. Just know that if this goes wrong-,”

               “We won’t let that happen,” Dean shoved his words into everyone’s ears, cutting off Castiel’s expression. The older hunter turned from the group and began to relocate to the room to chug even more beer, then Sam followed behind to have a cool drink himself. Castiel stood next to the pool alone as he gazed at the tainted water with remembrance of the flooding that happened so long ago infiltrating his mind. He raised his hand slowly as a glow emitted from his palm and transformed the pool into a healthy body that many could enjoy and walked away from the sight, retreating back to the motel room.