human you are here would you like a pillow

Snow Day Surprises.


Characters - Sam x Reader, Dean.
Word Count - 2140
Warnings -  Swearing, fluff, other warnings in the tags. 
A/N -  Written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing and @like-a-bag-of-potatoes ’ 12 Days of Christmas Challenge. Prompt - Snowball Fight.

Rolling over in bed you were surprised to roll into Sam’s chest, usually, when you woke up Sam was on a run.

Feeling his arms tighten around your waist you looked up at him, his eyes were just closing again when you kissed his cheek.

“Why are you here?” You whispered.

“Love you too.”

“You know what I mean.”

“It’s snowing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Sam leaned back and opened the curtain slightly, sitting up you watched the snow cover baby and the parking lot. “So I thought we could stay here for a while.”

“Would you two shut up it is 5am!” Dean groaned.

“Sorry.” You spoke before kissing Sam again.

“Stop that shit too.” Dean snapped.

“Dean shut up and sleep.” You sighed pulling away from Sam’s lips, resting your head on his clothed chest you smiled as you listened to him slowly fall asleep.

A 5-hour rest was what you and Sam needed.

“You two look cosy.” Dean smirked as he snapped a photo of the two of you cuddled up in bed.

“I’ve slept longer than usual but I’m so tired.” You groaned.

“Story of my life.” Dean mumbled. “Now get your butts up we have things to do.”

“No.” Sam protested as he pulled you closer to him nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“Dean, can we stay here?” You asked.

“Fine.” Dean huffed. You heard him leave the motel room yet you didn’t hear him return he must’ve left the door open. Seconds later you felt something ice cold hit your face, jumping up and away from Sam you screamed when you realised what had happened. Dean had dumped snow on both you and Sam.

“You bastard, you absolute dick!” You screamed at Dean launching yourself at him, Sam grabbed your arm pulling you back towards him before you could attack Dean. Sam’s arms wrapped around you holding you to his warm chest.

“You best get us coffee before she kills you.”

“It’s just snow.”

“Dean, I’m in pyjamas, not okay snow attire, so leave and get me something hot to drink.”

“Sam, you have a grouchy one here.”

“If I had a gun under my pillow I would have shot you,” Sam warned.

“Well shit, you two can’t take a joke.”

“Sam.” You hissed, closing your eyes. Peeling yourself from Sam’s chest you walked to the bathroom, you were more than happy to feel the warmth from the shower on your skin.

You felt more human after your shower and much less likely to kill Dean. Buttoning up your blouse you fixed your skirt before putting on your jacket, Sam walked in as you finished making yourself look human, taking of his shirt he turned on the shower.

“When he’s in the car we’ll get him back.”

“Really?”

“God yes, he deserves it,” Sam smirked, kissing you before stripping off and getting into the shower.

Walking back into the room you dropped your clothes and bag onto the bed. Dean was sat at the table scrolling through his laptop. “What no hot drink after what you did?”

“No, because you’ve been so picky lately and I didn’t want to piss you off further by getting you the wrong thing.”

“Shouldn’t have dropped snow on my head then you dick.”

“Dropped it on Sam too.”

“Doesn’t make it any better Dean.”

“We’ll get a drink on the way to the morgue, I’ll be in the car.” Dean rolled his eyes, getting up and leaving you alone.

“Okay.”

The motel room was getting colder by the second, kicking off your heels you slipped back into bed trying to find some of Sam’s remaining body heat, pulling your knees up to your chest you settled under the blankets and closed your eyes.

“Babe?”

“Mhm…”

“You okay?” Sam questioned kneeling down next to you, his hand cupping your face his thumb slowly rubbing your cheek.

“Just tired and cold, I thought the bed would help.”

“Want to stay here? I can get more blankets from reception.”

“I don’t know.”

“Give me a few minutes okay?”

“Yeah.”

You listened to Sam shut the motel room door, his footsteps fading as he crossed the parking lot towards baby, her engine stopped before 2 car doors slammed, two sets of footsteps walked back to the room before you heard the door again.

“Babe, you awake?” Sam questioned as he sat on the bed beside you.

“Yeah.” You opened your eyes with a few slow blinks.

“We don’t have a lot to do today so you can stay here but I want you to be able to pick up when I call or you can come with for a few hours, baby is nice and warm.”

“She is,”Dean added looking slightly guilty behind Sam.

“We have the morgue and then a few families to interview.”

“I’ll come with but not to the morgue.” You smiled at Sam, slowly pulling away the sheet and blanket.

“Dean go warm baby up some more.” Sam instructed as he helped you from the bed. “You sure you’re okay? You’re freezing, your legs, you’re so cold.” Sam’s hand rested on your knee.

“I know.”

“We have a blanket or two in baby.”

“No!”

“What?”

“Have you had sex on one or more of those?”

“No why?”

“Then Dean has, they’re being burnt.”

“Sure, you sure you’re okay though?”

“Positive, I’m just cold so store for a blanket then I can sit in the warmth while you two look at dead people.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Sam smiled helping you to your feet, slipping your heels back on you grabbed your handbag and put on your long grey coat.

Walking out to baby you and Sam took it steady, your heels not mixing with the snow. Slipping into the backseat you snapped your head to the other side of the car as Sam slid in next to you, leaving the passenger seat empty. Sam’s arms wrapped around you pulling you close to his chest.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.” Dean spoke looking at you in the mirror.

“It wasn’t you, you’re fine.”

“Still I’m sorry.”

“Hey pull in at the next store you see, one most likely to sell a blanket.” Sam instructed Dean.

“There are blankets in the trunk.”

“If you can pick one that you haven’t had sex on I’ll accept it.” You looked at him with a raised brow.

“Erm…”

“Yeah, they’re getting burnt.”

Dean pulled into a store and walked out a few minutes later with a dark grey fluffy blanket. Handing it back to you he smiled seeing you curled up against Sam.

“Good?” He asked as he watched you cocoon yourself.

“So good.” You mumbled trying to avoid getting your makeup on Sam.

Dean pulled into the car park of the small hospital, looking back at you and Sam, Dean shifted in his seat. “She asleep?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” Sam mumbled.

“You think we should get her checked out?”

“Dean she’s okay, it’s winter, it’s snowing, she’s just cold and exhausted.”

“Exactly shouldn’t we check her in?”

“Dean it’s not a hotel, stop freaking out over your snow stunt this morning.”

“I can’t.”

“Well stop, we have stuff to do.”

“Y/N?” Dean raised his voice making you jolt up with a groan.  “We’re heading inside so we’re giving you the keys, you have a gun and angel blade under the seat if you need it.”

“Okay.”

“So nap your ass off for 30 minutes.” Dean spoke handing you the keys.

“Yes, sir.” You smiled at Dean, Sam kissed your forehead before leaving you alone in the car. Curling up you relished in the warmth of baby and the blanket, your nap felt no longer than 30 seconds, yet when the boys returned to the car you shot up gun raised.

“It’s us.” Sam announced as he slid in the seat next to you.

“So we have the Smiths and the someone elses to talk to.”

“What the fuck is going on with you?” Dean questioned.

“Fuck knows.” You yawned settling back against Sam.

“Sammy, I love her I do but her ass needs to stay in the car or go back to the motel.”

“Why?” Sam asked.

“If she interviews anyone we’re done, she’s not with it.”

“Right here Dean.” You waved at him.

“I know you are.”

“Let’s get coffee then we can head to interview the vics families.” You suggested.

“Fine but you slip up once.” Dean warned.

“Whatever.”


Interviewing the families didn’t take too long, they were both oblivious to any wrongdoing or strange events. You were more than happy to curl up against Sam with the blanket over you as Dean drove you all back to the motel.

Dean pulled baby into a space near your room, following Sam out of the car you looked at him, a devilish grin on his face told you he was planning something. He shut the back door before ducking down and scooping up some snow, after making 2 snowballs he stood back up and handed you one.

“Dean!” Sam called over the car.

“Yeah?” Dean turned around to face you both as he shut the car door.

Launching your snowball at his face you grinned as it hit him square in the face, Sam’s snowball soon followed snacking Dean with much more force than yours had.

“Oh it’s on!” Dean smirked disappearing behind baby to scoop up snow, you and Sam followed suit making a few more.

The snowball fight was short lived and you stayed well protected behind Sam, he blocked each hit as they flew at you both.

“Okay I’m too cold out here.” You announced holding your hands up in surrender, the words had barely left your mouth before a snowball hit you in the face. “AHHH! You dick!” You squealed. “All I wanted was my blanket from the car.”

“Sorry!” Dean shouted as he was hit with a snowball full force in the face making him stumble backwards.

Grabbing the blanket from the backseat you pulled the motel key from your pocket and unlocked the door. The snow running down your neck was freezing you.

“I’m taking a hot shower, no more snow, I call a truce.”

“Yes, no more snow.” Dean rubbed his nose, his cheeks and nose red from the cold and multiple snowball hits.

“Good, I’m showering and then sleeping.”

“Enjoy!” Dean shouted as you closed the bathroom door. “You sure she’s okay?”

“She’s fine.”

A few minutes later when you emerged from the bathroom in Sam’s plaid and a pair of pyjama shorts. Crawling into bed you noticed both of them watching you.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Dean shrugged taking a swig from the bottle of whiskey in his hand.

“Seriously what’s up?” You asked Dean.

“Well, I’m worried about you.” Dean admitted.

Rolling over you searched your bag for the Christmas card for Dean, handing it to him you settled against Sam.

“What’s this?” He raised a brow, looking down at the card in his hand.

“Early Christmas present I guess.” You shrugged. “From both of us.”

You and Sam watched Dean open the envelope.

“Happy Christmas Uncle… You’re pregnant?” Dean sat up putting the alcohol on the side table. “I’m going to be an Uncle?” He got up and awkwardly hugged you and Sam.

“That’s why you’ve been on research and on interview duty.”

“Yeah.” Sam smiled down at you kissing your temple.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry I wouldn’t have pulled that shit this morning if I knew.”

“It’s fine.”

“Sure?” He asked perching on the bed next to you.

“Yes, so sure.” You smiled at Dean watching him reread the card as you rested your head on Sam’s chest.

“I love you.” Sam whispered kissing your hair.

“Y/N?” Dean asked.

“Yeah?”

“How far along are you?”

“13 weeks why?”

“Well I’m trying to timeline everything and you don’t look pregnant.”

“Seriously?”

“What?”

“For a hunter, I can’t believe you haven’t noticed this, I know I’ve been covering up but…” You lifted up Sam’s plaid to show him your growing bump.

“Wow.” Dean glanced at Sam. “You two are so sneaky.”

“Yeah, we love you but I didn’t want to tell anyone until we were in the all clear.”

“I get it.”

“At least in a few years, you’ll have someone else to have snowball fights with.” You pulled down Sam’s shirt and rested a palm on your bump.

“I actually can’t wait, God I’m going to be the best Uncle ever.” Dean smiled to himself.

“I’ve nearly told him so many times today.” Sam admitted

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Sam’s hand rested next to yours. “I honestly didn’t think I’d end my day telling him.”

“I didn’t think I’d start the day with snow getting dumped on my head.” You smirked at Dean.

“I said I’m sorry!” Dean whined.

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The Faithful of the Underground

This fanfiction is set within the Undertale AU, The Caretaker of the Ruins. 

Chapter 1: Blind Patience Act 1

Chara stood over the bed. The child lay on it, sleeping, but not breathing. Chara breathing intesified. 

‘I cannot risk you recovering…’ Chara said, getting angrier by the second. They carefully stood beside the bed, and slowly brought one hand closer to the child’s neck.

‘So please….die.’

The hand came closer to the neck. And closer. 

This is it, Chara thought, this is it…..if I pull this off….if I do this….then-

But before they could finish their thought, one of the child’s hands suddenly shot up and caught Chara by the lower arm, taking them by surprise. The child sat up, and screamed, ‘MAMA!!’ 

Chara jumped back with a yelp. The child nearly fell over from the bed, shivering. They pulled back on to the bed, and stared ahead. Chara thought they were staring at them, but realized they were actually staring at the wall behind them. He looked closer.

The child, indeed, was looking at the wall behind them. 

Chara slowly stood up, observing the human. The child put a hand on their bed sheets, and then the other. A look of confusion came over their face. She looked around, saying, ‘Mama?’

Not sure what to do, our prince quickly made up their mind, and said, ‘Your mother isn’t here.’

The child looked at Chara’s direction, but not at Chara themself. They said, ‘What? But…where am I?’ 

Chara was quickly running out of ideas and time, and said, ‘That’s not important.’

The child again asked, ‘Where am I?’

‘I said…that’s not important. What is important… why are you looking at the wall? I’m here!’ Chara waved their hands while angrily saying this. Not only had their plan failed due to the human in front of them waking up, but they weren’t even looking at them. And it seemed like they were doing it on purpose. 

The child blinked, and looked around in their general direction. ‘Where?’ 

‘Right he-’

‘I can’t see you.’

Chara stopped. What?

‘What did you just say?’

‘I….can’t….see you.’ The panic in their voice grew, ‘I….I can’t see!’ They started fidgeting, but then slumped back on their pillow. Chara was flabbergasted. They were quick to collect their wits, though. 

So I have a blind human here…that was unexpected….but they’re not dead. They would matter more like that. 

Chara slowly made their way to the child, putting their hands up (Which was a useless thing to do, considering the scared kid was blind), saying soothingly, ‘Now, calm down, ok? Calm down…’

The child looked in their direction again, and said, in a panicked tone, ‘But…but…I can’t see….how do I know where you are?’

Chara moved closer. Their eyes were on the kid’s throat. If I can just…do it quickly….

‘Don’t worry….I’ll take good care of you….’ 

Chapter 1: End 

Caretaker of the Ruins belongs to @caretaker-au

This story belongs to me

what I’d pay for every day to start like today

“Stop it.”

“Stop what? I’m not doing anything.”

“Stop purring.”

There’s a brief second of tug-o-war before Bruce lets Clark reclaim another inch of covering. He does it purely out of the goodness his kids joke he doesn’t have in his heart. Clark doesn’t feel the cold, he doesn’t actually need the blankets.

“I’m not purring,” Clark says.

“I can feel it.”

“How? You’re on the other side of the bed.”

“It’s his bat senses,” Diana says. She pokes both of them with her elbows shifting around and it’s definitely intentional. Her arm settles, warm and heavy, across Bruce’s waist. Clark’s fingers tickle his side as they worm their way over as well.

Bruce cranes his head to look for the source of the purring. “Blasted cat,” he mutters. Alfred is curled up on top of Diana’s feet; she doesn’t seem to mind. “Who left the door open?”

“You came in last.”

“No, I didn’t. Diana got up to get water after we were in bed.”

“I closed the door when I came back.”

Bruce huffs. “Alfred.”

“Yes,” Diana says. “Do you think he somehow turned the knob? That would be a very intelligent cat.” She lifts her head, hair brushing across Bruce’s neck. “I could ask him.”

Clark chuckles. “I think he meant human Alfred.” He frowns. “You did, didn’t you, Bruce?”

“The cat misses Damian when he’s away with the Teen Titans. Alfred must have gotten sick of him getting under his feet and let him in here.”

“Hmm.” The rumble of Diana’s hum feels almost like purring through Bruce’s chest. He grumbles half-heartedly and pushes his face back into the pillow.

“It’s too early.”

“Then go back to sleep.”

“You go back to sleep.”

“Hush,” Diana says, amusement colouring her tone. “We will all go back to sleep.”

It doesn’t matter that sunlight is already glowing behind the curtains. Bruce is warm and content. He dozes off, waking hours later to find Ace and Titus have been let in and onto the bed as well. He grumbles at Diana and Clark, but it’s just for show. His chest feels light and bubbly, fuzzy where his partners’ hands rest over his heart.

The Case of the Missing Identity No. 1

Title: The Case of the Missing Identity

Pairing: Sherlock x reader (eventually)

Word Count: 1,040

Warnings: Uhh…smoking cigarettes. That’s all…I think.

A/N: So…I’m branching out from Supernatural. I love a lot of different fandoms and so…yeah. Smooches, boo! (Gif is clearly not mine)

Originally posted by silent-micka

Your rapidly beating heart faltered slightly as you walked at nearly the pace of a jog, your eyes scanning the numbers on the street. You looked back at the sweat smeared address on your hand and repeated it over and over as you approached what looked to be a cafe. The scents wafting out made you feel a sense of calm. Walking past, you found your destination and rang the bell. You shivered lightly the drizzle of the outside world causing little wet beads to set upon your hair. Your breathing began to return to normal as you were greeted by a chipper lady with hooded eyes and a rather short haircut. She looked you up and down and shouted, “Sherlock! A client for you!”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

YEs hi um, you are amazing?! I just saw your Bill Cipher stuff and I, fucking, love it!!!! Oh please *bows* write a short where Bill and his fem crush actually manage to separate after being together for a while? I assume his crush would be weak after the whole thing. What would he do? OH! and do you think you could write him taking a human form? Again you write amazing stuff I am so happy I found you!!

1 2 3 4 (I declare a thumb war)

“get the fuck out of here,” you tell him. he slinks inside your room anyway like an overgrown cat and you don’t have the energy to throw the bitchfit it would take to get him out again. you groan and roll over in bed, shoving your face back into your pillow. hopefully he’ll take the hint and fuck off to go do whatever it is he does when you’re not looking.

the edge of your bed depresses underneath his weight. you don’t bother looking up; him having a physical weight means he’s taken a physical form, and he feels too heavy to be a triangle right now. the last time you’d looked at him while he was in a physical form that wasn’t his triangle-shaped body, you threw up. he waves it away with something about the real world and having issues outlining his actual body, but you don’t care too much. 

you already feel like shit and you don’t want to add to it by looking up.

“didn’t you already spend enough time around me?” you ask him, referring to the living arrangements you both had shared up until very recently. 

“I spent some time in you,” Bill responds, and you can just see the smirk he must be making in your mind’s eye. 

“haha, sex jokes, haha.” you mumble out. the room feels like it’s spinning again. another nap might be in order, despite the fact that you’ve already taken three that day.

“came to tell ya i’m fucking off back home. left you something to remember me by on your nightstand.”

“take it back,” comes the automatic reply, because you’re pretty sure any gift from Bill will involve three heads, 6 different child sacrifices, and something else unidentifiable but vaguely oily and unpleasant.

he’s already gone though. your bed is no longer bearing the weight of two people. you chance lifting your head to glance at your nightstand, ignoring the way that the world spins around you at the movement. there’s a huge leather-bound tome on the nightstand, without any markings on the spine to give you an indication of what it is. you squint suspiciously at it, but the book doesn’t explode or throw itself at your head after a few moments. its probably fine.

you reach out and flip the cover open, looking for the title page. you find yellowed pages worn by countless fingers and a few strange stains at the corners of the paper. written in faded ink are the words,

Se Felahrōra sylf Fæmne Bilbeger

you instantly realize what those stains are. you snatch your hand away, but its too late. the pages magically fly open and a weird, deep voice begins to read the words aloud to you. Old English. 

you close the book but the narration doesn’t stop, beginning the tale of Maid Bilberger and her numerous exploits with various men. there’s no doubt in your mind it’ll continue to read itself aloud until its done. there’s ghostly cackling in your ears.