winbesters:

Title: Revenger Is Sweeter Than You

Author: constipatedsam

Word Count: 896

Request: (I don’t remember if i requested this or not so sorry if I already did) A Demon!Dean x Demon!Reader where they both get stuck in a devils trap at the bunker (Either Sam did it for kicks or he isn’t there and they walked on it by accident) so they are stuck in it for awhile and it get really fluffy between them? Love you!! - godstiels-fallen-angel

Trigger Warnings: Cursing, Sexual Situation

A/N: I may have distorted the meaning of ‘fluffy’ a little bit

Fic:

      If you were to imprison a moonstruck, lackadaisical murderer in a room with the remains of something that haunted him to his core, you would in turn receive a disconcerted and furious criminal. He would have many stranger’s and friend’s blood on his hands and in his own soul, yet surrounding him with that one memory that he had never been able to overcome would shake his bones. Every theoretical culprit including myself and you even, have our own memories that we wouldn’t want to face no matter the situation. There could be a gun positioned against your head, and you still wouldn’t face it. You weren’t being followed by memories, rather a person, more or less. Your past thought had green eyes, the kind that seemed like they were scanning your soul for it’s previous sins whenever he gazed in your own pupils. His touch was something that was unfathomable because it could make any creature fall to his finger tips, die from the peck of his own lips. There wasn’t a sliver of humanity located within his vessel at this point unless it was stocked deep down in his heart, yet he was still able to feel like a human: be a human. When he had first turned, it was a frightening sight to witness because that precious love and protection that was programmed within him as if by a computer program that God made himself was extinct. He would kill on a whim, whether to get himself released from the hunger of blood or just for plain amusement. It was a sickening time until his inner self began to reconnect with how he felt as a human and with the help of Castiel, he was able to have emotions once again. He was a complex memory that you had escaped for so long, but you couldn’t avoid him now. A devil’s trap was your cell and the precious paint on the floor were the bars that held you there. The wooden floors of Bobby’s house were familiar to you, but you didn’t anticipate a trap underneath his trusty rug in the study since you had walked over it many times with no problem. So there you were, held hostage in a demonic trap along that memory who was sitting with his legs crisscrossed as if he planned to stay there for a good while, kick back and drink alcohol out of a coconut. You on the other hand had your arms crossed as you stood near the outskirts of the circle, waiting for someone to arrive to get you out of the uncomfortable predicament. Your legs turned slightly, just enough so your eyes could be brought to his figure that was rested so comfortably.
      His eyes glared up at you, the irises in his whites lighting up from the lights above. A devilish grin was painted across his face as the situation was the obvious artist that had created the obnoxious smile. “Oh, come on, Y/N. This isn’t too bad. You and me alone in a room together. We haven’t been this close since the summer of ‘69,” His arms threw behind him as he propped his midsection up, examining your body with his possessive eyes.
      The Y/E/C orbs on your face rolled as you took a few hesitant steps towards him, not letting your arms down. Your heart felt like it was about to burst each time your heel clicked with the floor, but you continued to waltz over to his body. “You weren’t even alive in the summer of '69, your moron. I should know. I’ve been kicking since the slaves were freed,”
      He raised his brows in defeat as he twisted his body towards you, making sure his abs were visible through the outline of his shirt. He may have been a douche bag, but he was the hottest damn one you had ever seen. It almost made you forget that he once tried to sacrifice you to pull Adam from hell in some odd ritual he had found. You were still scorned over that, but you tried to shove the anger to the back of your demonic little mind. “Well, I know something else that used to make you kick,” He mumbled as he bucked his hips slightly in a suggestive manner, licking his lips. A sly grin was playing on his lips as it faded abruptly when you forced him to the ground, the wooden floor colliding with his back. Your legs were bent so you were on your knees and your arms stretched out as you were crouched over his body. Your chest was pumping wildly whether from irritation or from the sudden lunge, you weren’t sure. What you were sure of was that he was going to pay for trying to rid you from the world for the sake of a pathetic human, a Winchester at that. His lips melted into yours as you harshly mixed yours in with his, feeling him crumble with each touch your gave him. Your plan was simple: make him fall in love, then make him fall in death’s grips. It might be hard because his brother was protecting him at every which way, but Dean Winchester was going to know what revenge felt like whether it be from the loss of his brother’s life or his own.

winbesters:

Title: Taste the Family Issues

Author: constipatedsam

Word Count: 798

Request: I was wonderin if i could have a dean one shot where the reader is upset because her older brother (only family she has maybe?) is mad at her and says he never wants to see her again. She stays in her room and keeps quiet but dean comes in a comforts her. Very fluffy? (Love you and take as much time as you need!) godstiels-fallen-angel

Trigger Warnings: None

A/N: I hope you feel better and I love you so much and all you deserve is sunshine and happiness and a unicorn and Jensen Ackles naked

Fic:

      His words were the equivalent of a spring that had always provided you with such quality and clean water transforming into a polluted brook that’s liquid was laced with hatred and harmful words which poisoned you slowly. You were accustomed to absorbing such dangerous components from other oceans and rivers, but to soak in those same thoughtless products from a trusted source was a pain that you couldn’t even fathom into words. You were cognizant of that fact that a human can’t be all hunky dory and supportive every second of their lives, but you also understood that there an amount of consideration that people needed to put into their words because sentences can scar deeper than any knife wound.
      These thoughts were pacing through your cluttered mind as you were sprawled out on your bed, your eyes circling around every stained detail on the roof. It was an old, crummy place so a few water stains and cracks decorated the white top that protected your eyes from the bright sun up that laid outside the building. A ceiling fan slowly turned, more confidence churning the blades that any amount of reassurance you had in your body. It was tough being told by someone you love and known all of your life that they never wanted to see you again, you cause bad things to happen. There’s a natural sense between siblings that you can say some of the most heinous things and it all be okay in the end, but he had used up all of his passes; you weren’t the most forgiving person. You were still a little peeved that Dean had eaten your bag of Skittles that you had bought specifically for yourself; that was two weeks ago and you still weren’t over it. You sighed as you threw your hands over your head in disappointment as you realized you had compared being told that you were wanted out of someone’s life and a bag of candy that was only two dollars. While the breath escaped your quivering lips from trying to muffle a cry that had been trying to break free from your body, the door pushed itself open so slowly that it seemed like one of the ghosts of the Men of Letters that haunted the halls had opened up the portal. After a few seconds, a shiny grocery cart forced it’s way into your room as it was followed by the thief who had taken your precious, sugary candy. The cart was piled high to the brim with bags of Skittles and even had some stacked on the lower compartment. He had a silly grin on his face as he playfully strode into the room, anticipation and pride trailing every step. His body rested itself on the foot of your bed while one of his hands relaxed upon your leg. “I know you’re a little pissed about the Skittles, so I bought you a year supply or a week supply during a breakup, so it never happens again,” A toothy grin flashed across his lips as he poured his eyes into yours, but detected something was wrong. The smile immediately faded. “I’ll go out and buy more. I mean, that’s only about two hundred bags so I understand if you want more. I only maxed out three of the credit cards anyway. I can afford-,”
“Dean, it’s not that, alright? I really appreciate the gesture, I do. I’ll be sure to eat every last one of them when I watch The Notebook,” You sighed out, but he didn’t seem anymore comforted. You sat yourself up as you crossed your legs and brought your face close to his. “You remember that time we were on a hunt and you had to blend in with a group of druggies and you accidentally used Sam’s high school diploma as paper to roll a blunt?” The words left your lips with a soft giggle trying to slip out from recounting the wild story. Even Dean smiled a little bit as his own terrible mishap. “He was so mad at you that he threatened to go back to Stanford and never associate with you again,”
      “And then I cried like a little bitch and you held me while I actually let my emotions out,” Dean chuckled while he scooted his body closer towards you.
      “Well this time, I’m the little bitch,” You murmured as you lowered your head onto his chest while his arms wrapped themselves around around your hips and you pulled you in so close that it felt like your bodies could have merged into one.
      “If you eat all those skittles, you won’t be so little,” He chortled as he grabbed one of the bags, tore it open and chugged it down with you.

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.

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.

Title: Daddys’ Daughter

Author: imaginesupernaturally

Word Count: 661

Trigger Warnings: Fluff?

Fic:

Leaves that outstretched from the bush prodded at the angel’s skin viciously as if taunting him for being an overbearing parent. Every time the brown twigs would attack him, he could only imagine how the boy’s fingers were trailing across his daughter’s arms, just trying to reach for her- oh, Father.

               “Dean, I cannot just sit here and allow her to be the victim,” Castiel grumbled as his legs began to out stretch themselves in order to stand. He caught a glimpse of her sitting in the passenger seat and the perpetrator in the driver’s, probably planning on how to take advantage, or at least that was what Castiel thought. The boy’s car was parked in a drive-in, similar to what had been around in the fifties yet it had a younger vibe due to the amount of phones illuminating through every vehicle in the lot.

               Dean lunged for Castiel’s hand and yanked him back down to crouch behind the thick foliage in order to preserve her date. The angel’s body collapsed back onto the ground as he shot daggers at his lover’s green eyes. “Cas, baby, it’s okay. You have to trust her, okay? Mary is a Winchester- correction. She’s a female Winchester. There’s no tougher kind, so if he tries to lay a hand on her, we’ll have a body to hide,” His hand glided across Castiel’s upper arm in comfort as his lowered it down to grab his hand. Dean’s fingers delved into Castiel’s hands, yet the angel didn’t return any amount of pressure back, leaving Dean defeated. Castiel elongated his neck and glared through the back windshield in hopes to find a reason to stop the date. He didn’t expect to be this worrisome. Hell, he’s an angel. He could launch the boy into the sun if he wanted to, but Mary was his world and he couldn’t allow someone to corrupt and pollute her. Dean had been surprisingly calm about the whole situation because he spoke of something called “parental trust”. The angel had known nothing of this for he felt as though his father left him long ago, yet Dean had learned this lesson by raising Sam.

               Castiel lowered his body back down, turned his head towards Dean and gazed into his hypnotizing eyes. A sigh flew from his lips as he sat down and leaned against Dean’s chest as the hunter entangled his arms around the angel’s warm body. Castiel could feel Dean’s scruff against his forehead which comforted him slightly. “I just don’t want her to grow up, Dean. Right now she’s on her first date and before you know it, she’ll be getting married and moving out. I don’t want to let go,”

               “Baby, you don’t have to let go. She’ll always be our little girl. She’ll always come running to me whenever she doesn’t know which band t-shirt to wear and she’ll run to you whenever she can’t find her favorite pair of jeans. She’ll always need us whether she likes it or not. And I’ll always need you whether I like it or not. I love you,” Dean craned his head closer to Castiel’s, breathing in his scent.

               The angel’s eyes shut for a moment in relaxation then snapped back open to reveal and calmed looked. Moving his head closer, he allowed his lips to mix with Dean’s lovingly as if it were their wedding day all over again. “I love you, too,” He muttered as a group of kids waltzed by the bushes, scrunching their eyebrows in confusion at the two men cuddling together on dirt behind a bush. Dean shot his head over the glare at the teens.

               “What, you never seen two men kiss before?” He yelled as they darted away back towards the parking lot, leaving Castiel giggling. “What?”

               “I’ve never seen two men kiss either,” Castiel explained. “So, maybe it’s time we revisit the idea of installing a mirror on the ceiling above the bed,”

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.

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.

Title: The C-Team (Part One)

Author: walkingdean

Word Count: 2611

Trigger Warnings: Cursing, Mention of Blood, Mention of Death, Mention of Mental Illness, Mention of Sex

Summary: The reader is babysitting when something goes wrong. The Winchesters storm in, but it turns out she’s not completely inexperienced with the supernatural.

Fic:

It was drizzling. It was the type of downfall that reminded even the oldest of men of those magical days whenever they would beg their mother to go out and splash in the rain. It was the brand that an older sister could use to scare her squeamish brother by slightly hydroplaning on the way home from his practice. This breed of weather was natural to the citizens of Campbell Station as it was natural, but something that their programmed, simple minds weren’t used to was about to arise. No, it wasn’t some new fashion line that Kanye West proclaimed was the “step above the step above the future”. It was something that would cause even the most religiously-adamant humans to stop their prayers and question whether this world was theirs like their Father made them believe. But before you understand this bone-chilling tale, it is important that you know the story that made headlines- and to the notice of two very important men.

“Jacob! I told you to get out of the bath ten minutes ago!“ Her fingers rattled against the banister of the old wooden stairs. A crack of lightening flashed in the window behind her like a warning from God to get the child out of the water. Reluctantly, her feet relocated her to the top of the stairs where rustic paintings hung by thin strings that were so tense she could almost hear them screaming out for relief. The planks on the floor creaked with each ounce of pressure that was placed upon them as she slung the bathroom door open, revealing an eight year-old boy clad in only a towel, which was wrapped around his body up to his shoulders as if he were a housewife that had just gotten done with a well-deserved bubble bath- with rubber ducks.  He cocked his brown-haired head to the side with his blue eyes sparkling with sass as he placed his hands upon his hips.

“Don’t you know it’s not nice to walk in on somebody? I’m going to tell my parents that you don’t knock!” Jacob’s thin legs marched towards her with confidence as he slid past, heading to his room that was ever so mature with a sign on the door that sloppily read ‘Jacob’s Castle of Doom- Nobody Allowed’. She hiked her own legs up and urgently chased after the boy, yet her fist didn’t block the closing of the door in enough time to snag the young boy. She dropped the hardened hand as a sigh ran from her pursed lips. The lock turned fiercely.

“Jacob, you have three seconds to open this door before I call your parents,” Her red cheeks puffed out of anger as her temper began to boil. The door wasn’t moving.

“One…” the stern phrase spun from her tongue with irritation. “I’m so not getting paid enough for this,”

“Two…” Her hand began to intertwine its fingers around the brass door handle, anticipation filling her veins.

“Thr-,” A nightmarish shriek erupted like lava from an unnerved volcano from behind the wooden door. Her eyes grew in confusion as the screeching continued to get louder.  Swing after punch after blow from her hands did nothing the burst the door open. She felt that not even the wrath of God could force the forsaken thing open as she let her foot collide with the door next to the handle. The barrier exploded to reveal Jacob sprawled and submerged in a natatorium of scarlet blood that was spreading fast. His eyes flickered to her as a cry for help for he could no longer speak from the pain that was eating away at his flesh. But it was not only the pain, but the ghastly figure that lingered above his demolished body, sucking every ounce of life from the boy. The being made its way to Jacob’s face which he dissolved down the bone, rendering the boy unrecognizable besides the crystal irises that remained in their sockets. Red orbs pervaded through all of the blood with their glow that paralyzed her in her spot as they charged towards her, but before the monster could ravage her body as well it evaporated and left behind a gust of wind—and a hard story to tell Jacob’s parents.

Dean slammed the laptop down in front of Sam with a sense of pride and success that didn’t help alleviate the younger brother’s irritation with the treatment of his electronic as he rolled his eyes and took a look at the screen. Dean looked on with an eyebrow raised in amusement as he awaited a response from the concentrated man. His hazel eyes met his brother’s green gems with perplexity.

“I know, right? That’s some freaky shit right here,” Dean pointed to the device with certainty as he pulled up a chair across from Sam in the bunker’s library. He rested an elbow upon the surface of the mahogany table that used to be the home to many poker games back in the day. Sam raised his brows at his older brother in disappointment.

“Dean, we’re not doing this. There’s tons of better cases out there somewhere,” He slung the laptop back around to where the crude light was no longer blaring in eyes and now in the presence of his brother. Dean had an expression similar to a toddler’s whenever they can’t buy their favorite cereal.

“But, Sammy.  A girl who magically wakes up with three boobs? We can’t pass this up. Some extreme devil worship could be at work here,”

“Or extreme, hidden plastic surgery,” Sam retaliated quickly with reassurance. “I know the field has been a little barren lately, but keep looking. There’s gotta be something worth our time and not our porn fantasies,”

The older brother rolled his eyes at the rejection as he began to surf around for anything the least bit supernatural. Links upon links swirled around the pages like the sky whenever a rider is riding the teacups. Dean began to read some of the news stories out loud to Sam who was too caught up in reading an old journal he found in the study.

“Okay, Sammy. The best possibilities I’ve found so far are cannibals that are feasting on senior citizens in Oklahoma or-. Holy shit,” Dean’s mouth dropped open with shock and intrigue that he felt ashamed to express, even to himself. His eyes focused in on one headline in particular.

“Dean…” The younger Winchester shut the journal and looked at his brother with concern dancing vigorously in his eyes.

He tore his eyes away from the screen to let them lock with Sam’s in astonishment as his lips trembled in fascination. “So, this babysitter was watching this kid while the parents were out on a date. She claims a ghost cleaned the kid like a barbecue rib on the Fourth of July in less than five seconds flat. It went for her, but then it disappeared. They have her in a mental hospital with a diagnosis of schizophrenia, mania, and sociopathic tendencies,”

Sam grimaced at the poor girl’s fate. “Yeesh. Most people just get the crazy card and are sent on their way, but this girl is getting the full on treatment. Says a lot about how the kid was skinned,”

Dean nodded his head in agreement as he shut the computer down and began to stand up. “So, are we gonna do this or do I need to go by myself and leave you to read some more of the Anne Frank chronical over there?” He stated with a sarcastic smile. Sam rolled his eyes as he agreed and left the library, leaving behind his cherished reading material.

The eerie white walls that cuddled the equally pale floors reminded him of the last time he was in the hospital. Dean had a habit of staying away from healthcare facilities that didn’t specialize in curing gunshot wounds with liquor and floss like he had grown accustomed to. It was when Sam had lied in a bed unconscious for days which felt like years until a mysterious and troublesome solution had been made apparent. He had learned his lesson with angel possession and the painful arsenal that it carries: death, hurt, and a really bitchy brother. But this time he wasn’t here for familial matters. He was here for what he had been doing all of his life- saving people, hunting things, the family business.

               “So, why would the feds exactly get involved with a sicko like this?” The nurse pondered aloud. He kept walking with authority ahead of the brothers as if being a nurse at a low-grade mental institution granted him the right to act better than others. “I mean, it’s not even what she did. It’s the fact that she’s fucking crazy is what freaks me out. When I give her medicine, I’m always paranoid she’s gonna think I’m the ‘ghost’ that ate that poor little boy and attack me or something,”

               Sam locked eyes with his brother with a mutual understanding of what to do. “Hey, uh, it would make sense if you were scared of her for, I don’t know, eating a person. Mental illness doesn’t mean someone’s crazy,” Sam confessed as he saw the nurse shake his head slightly, pause at a door and begin to unlock it. The nurse back away and swayed his arms in a way to motion for the men to make their way into the clean-kept room. The only things that were inside were a mattress and a barred window that barely let any sunlight crawl through. The sun could be perched right outside, and someone would never be able to see it’s brilliance through the slits. Along the mattress sat a girl with a frail frame. Her cheeks were sunken in with her brown eyes that had a dull glow to them that mimicked the radiance they once possessed. Her body was curled into a ball onto the stale palette, her face gazing at the men I silence. Not a single bit of her body moved, much like Jacob’s door.

               Dean and Sam quickly erased their fed aura and replaced it with their rugged, ‘I know too much for my own good’ dispositions. They both stood in front of the girl, Sam’s brooding figure lurching much higher than his brother’s. “Hi, Y/N. I’m Sam. This is my brother Dean,” he began awkwardly. I was in an asylum once. You’d think I would know how to go about this, he thought to himself.

               “So, we know you’re not crazy. Hell, our lives are crazy so whatever tea you’re sipping from, sister, we have the whole gallon,” Dean interrupted his brother during the awkward silence. Her eyes immediately shot to him as his eyes ran shivers down her spine. They had the same glimmer as Jacob’s.  “So, this whole ghost thing. Did you smell anything funny, kind of like eggs recently? Any cold spots, things moving by themselves, electronics messing-,”

               “It wasn’t a ghost,” She finally spoke with a cracking voice from a lack of water. She had been rejecting food and water for days from either trauma or protest; she wasn’t sure herself. If it was for protest, it would be against everyone who assumed she was crazy. “I mean, I said that at first, but now I know it’s not. It didn’t give off the vibe as a ghost,” She began to squirm slightly from the excitement of finally releasing her thoughts to someone she thought might listen. They were the first people to even consider the supernatural aspects of the situation.

               Sam cocked his head in interest as he made a quick glance with his brother. “What do you mean ‘vibe’? Do you mean you’ve been involved with ghosts before?”

She removed her elbows that were caging her knees to reveal more of her face. It was pale from the lack of sunlight and nutrients, but more so the fright that she had felt lately. Sam was more concerned with an answer to the question at hand, but Dean was captivated by her face. Not in a negative way, but it put him in a trance of relaxation that he hadn’t felt in a long time by just looking into someone’s eyes. Not since his mom.

“You guys said you drink from the crazy fountain, right?” She asked as her eyes traded between each of their glares. She sighed as she began to prepare herself. “Well, I can sort of see these things—things that other people can’t see. Whenever you see a blank hallway, I see a man standing with an ax taking a nap in his frontal lobe. If you feel a cold spot, I see your grandmother hugging you- or slapping you based on your life decisions,”

The younger Winchester’s mouth dropped slightly while Dean’s lips came together in thought. “So you’re a medium?” The older brother asked in a calming way. There was no sense of doubt in his speech which she appreciated even more than usual given her stressful week.

“Y-yeah, if you want to call it that. But whatever attacked Jacob- that was no spirit. That was something that looked like it crawled from the depths of hell. It was grey with slimy skin and red eyes. Super skinny and tall. Its teeth were sharp like razor blades that tore-,” Her voice stopped as the memories of the attack came back. “Listen. All I know is that was some sort of evil thing. There was nothing pure about it,”

Dean sat himself up from leaning against the wall and crouched down next to her without breaching into her space on the mattress. “I know that this is a hard thing to talk about and Sam and I are grateful for the information you’ve given us. We hunt things like this- the things that do nasty shit like what happened to Jacob and we’re gonna find this son of a bitch and we’re gonna gank him. But we need you for this. Sam and I can’t sense stuff like you can. Are you in?”

She gazed into his eyes for what seemed like eternity while electricity shot through them both with the intimate connection. Her eyes shifted to Sam who was supporting Dean in his efforts to recruit her. “If it means I get to leave this place, I’m game.”Dean tapped her on her knee thankfully as he helped her up to her feet. She placed her hands on her hips and looked out the window to see the nurse standing guard right outside. “So, how are we gonna do this? I can’t exactly skip out of here,”

Sam grinned as he wrinkled his nose slightly in retort. Her mind began to swirl with possible ideas of what they could be planning. Did they have a trampoline outside her window to fall down on? But how would they get through the bars?

“We have a friend that can get us through pinches like this. Just close your eyes and you won’t feel a thing, okay?” Sam drowned his eyes into hers with reassurance that she trusted. She couldn’t explain it, but for some reason she trusted these two with no voice in her head begging her not too. There was no stranger-danger vibe even though she had only met them five minutes ago. They felt like childhood friends that she had come across in the supermarket. She closed her eyes while Dean called out the name ‘Castiel’. A cold front circulated through her body as she felt the world outside her eyelids spinning and the world faded to black.