Someone's driving me and my brother over but

A week.

Originally posted by supernaturalfreewill

Pairing : SamxReader, DeanxReader mentioned
Word count : 292
Author : Mel
Warning : Cheating mentioned

Part 2 of Forbidden Fruit

“My Brother!?” Sam yelled, furious as you sat on Dean’s couch. “I get a call, from my niece, telling me to haul ass home it’s an emergency. So I do, I drop everything and drive here thinking someone’s fucking hurt, or dead.. And I find out you’re fucking my brother!?”

Tears ran down your cheek as you looked down. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” He scoffed and turned away from you, running his hands over his face. “He has a family! We have a family!” You could see his jaw working. “How long?”


“How long have you been fucking my brother!?” He turned back to you, just as the front door opened.

“Where is he?” You heard Dean’s wife growl. Sam pointed up the stairs. “That son of a bitch.” She took the stairs two at a time. You flinched when you heard the bedroom door slam.

“You plan on answering me?”

“Not long.” You could feel his eyes boring into you. “A week.” You answered.

He let out a sick chuckle. “When you needed the ride home after a night out, and I was passed out and didn’t hear my phone so you called Dean..” He shook his head. “Let me guess, fucked you in the car?” He didn’t need to hear the answer, as ran his fingers through his hair. “That fucking car.”

You heard yelling from upstairs, screaming. You couldn’t make any of it out, but you heard the sound of something breaking. Then the door. “Get out, Dean.”


“Don’t you fucking baby me. Not when I’m sure you fucking called your brothers wife that. Get. Out.”

Dean made his way down the stairs slowly. “Guess I’m not crashing on your couch this time, huh Sammy.”

“You think?!”

Keep reading

I’m over whiney dudes who don’t live closer to me. I’m looking for someone who’ll stop by the cafe and take my lunch break with me. They’ll randomly bring me flowers and cacti plants (cause they know I’ll forget to give them fresh water). Someone who’d rather go for a drive and talk and listen too music while drinking coffee that went stale, over talking on Kik or texting. Someone who can come too my family dinners with me and rub my leg under the table and someone who knows when too put his hand on my shoulder when I get riled up over social issues with my brother over dessert.

I dunno, I gotta stop filling voids with dudes who I wouldn’t even want too attain even if they were attainable. I know I sound like an idiot but, Jesus fuck, there has too be someone out there who I don’t get bored with after two days, a real life person, not just a notification on my phone pumping my ego with false first impressions.

And I Still Do Not Read The Newspaper

Sister is visiting. I drive to the train station to pick her up, I look at the bus driver, who looks tired and exhausted; perhaps he is fighting with his wife, or maybe he is simply losing sleep over himself. As I lean my head back and close my eyes, I wonder if the same will happen to me in thirty years. The sister talks about her university and one professor she hates. People tell my brother and I that she looks similar to my mother, we both disagree.

As I walk upstairs after lunch, I realize that someone on this planet is thinking about me at the moment. ‘How surreal!’, I say to myself and close my bedroom door, which has a glass frame in its middle. The phone is vibrating, someone must have sent me a message. Without looking, and without hesitation, I turn it off. If it is important, the person will find another way to contact me. My eyes are burning, even though I took my pills.

Before I go, I do not tell anyone about my decision to buy groceries by and for myself, I want to be left alone. As I stroll through the corridors, I get the peculiar feeling to grab a few packages of cereal and throw them to the ground. My heart and stomach begin to hurt again. They say I should see a doctor; 'how could he know my body better than I?’, I convince myself and forget about it. The queue is long, even though it is Tuesday. One man is angry at the woman behind him, because she stands too close to him.

It is 02:30 at night. I choose to sleep throughout the day and stay awake at the night, so I do not have to bear the warmth. For the moment I convince myself to believe autumn is beginning soon. The streets are empty, and I hear a few rain drops tapping the leaves of trees. The neighbours are still awake; they often are at this time. I stopped to ask questions, all I know is that she has cancer. I turn off the lamp on my desk. A mosquito sits down on my computer screen, I decide to let it be as it flies away into the dark.

Nothing says southern charm like driving out of a neighbourhood only to be encountered by a man running in the middle of the street with a fuckin’ stick, waving it around like his damn life depended on it. So, I promptly braked because as much as I would’ve like to knock his ass over, I’m not looking for a murder charge. He fuckin’ made me open my window only to scream in my face about how much he fuckin’ hated having us–my brother’s family and I–as neighbours. He spewed some shit about driving too fast while children live in the neigbourhood, but I swear to whoever lives upstairs that he probably just found his wife fucked someone else. That, or someone fuckin’ died. Either way, that stick belonged firmly wedged up his ass, and I told him so before driving away. This town is fuckin’ psychotic–people need damn lives outside of monitoring speed limits and shit.