i included that last reply because yes it was asked about the drawing and i laughed at the response

Words Once Unspoken || Jongin || Chapter One

Genre: idk, curious af reader, cutie reader, fluff (?)

Main Characters: Jongin x Reader (ft. Sehun and Tao)

Chapter Word Count: 1392

Author’s Note: UNBETA’D bc I really wanted to get this out here. I may do a part 2 to do this but I’d like to hear feedback, please! <3

Keep reading

the burdens of being short (or perhaps not so burdensome after all)

Sirius hated being short.  Like really, really hated it.  Had his whole life.  But he never hated it more than when he couldn’t reach something.  

His arm was stretched up as far as it would go, he was balanced on the tips of his toes and he still couldn’t reach the damn book.  Now normally he wouldn’t be caught dead in a library but since his entire grade fell on him getting this book, he would just suck it up.

“You know, James.  A normal person, in this situation would help their vertically challenged friend and get the book down for him.”

Neither of the two seemed to hear the quiet snicker behind them at Sirius’ words.

James never looked up from his phone, where he was dedicatedly texting his girlfriend.  “A normal person would get the stool I pointed out on their way in.”

“That is an insult to my…” Sirius broke off as he struggled for the word.

“Punkness?” James supplied helpfully.  Sirius certainly did look very punk in his leather jacket, band t-shirt, ripped jeans and long hair, which only made him look even more out of place in the quiet library.

“Exactly,” Sirius cried before attempting to jump up and tip the book off the shelf simultaneously.  Needless to say, he failed, quite spectacularly.

“Uh gotta go Padfoot.  You have fun,” James muttered, still preoccupied by the phone in his hand.

“Right sure, go run off to your girlfriend and leave your best friend behind.  You know the one you’ve had since you were eleven?  You know when you were a scrawny nerd, friendless on your first day of boarding school?  And I took pity on your titchy ass and decided you might someday grow into someone who would be cool enough to hang with me?”  By the end of his rant, Sirius’ voice had risen to a volume most would deem too loud for a library and his pale face had taken on a slight pink tint in indignation.

“Great, knew you’d be cool with it.  Thanks Pads.”  James pocketed his phone with a grin, clapped his friend on the shorter on the shoulder and hurried off, mindless to the poisonous look he was currently receiving.  At the end of the aisle he paused and Sirius’ heart leapt hopefully, thinking that maybe his best wasn’t going to be a total prick after all and not abandon him but all James did was grin mockingly and say in a teasing voice, “And Padfoot, don’t climb the shelves again.  Remember what happened last time.”

Sirius scowled and flipped his friend off, not that he saw since he was already walking off with a laugh.  Sirius hadn’t been considering climbing the shelf again anyway, thank you very much.  He remembered all too well what had happened last time.  But in his defence, one would expect a library belonging to his prestigious school to secure their shelves a little better.

Sirius turned back to the shelf and cocked his head thoughtfully, wondering momentarily if he maybe if he was quick enough it might work this-

No.  He did not need to get kicked out of one of the few libraries in the area that he didn’t hold a lifetime ban from.

Instead he rolled his head from side to side, cracking his neck and jumped a few times on the spot to psych himself up.  Then he backed up, muttering quiet encouragement to himself as he did, “Ok you can do this.  Who’s the best footie player at school?  That’s right you are.  No matter what James said.  Just because Minnie’s still pissed about the time you suggested she shave her legs if she wanted a date for Valentine’s and made James captain over you, does not mean he is a better player.  Who scored the winning goal against Malfoy last year?  That’s right you did.”  And without any more preamble, Sirius took a great running leap, hand snatching furiously at the air as he sailed past his intended target.

Of course, he didn’t come close to getting the book off the shelf and it was only sheer athleticism that stopped him landing him in a heap on the dusty library floor.  He stumbled back a few steps as he landed, already glaring furiously at the book and fuck how did he manage to push it further onto the shelf?

It was only the quiet laugh from the end of the aisle that pulled Sirius from his consideration of his climbing plan again.  Sirius head whipped around and he almost fell over right there and then, because the guy trying to smother his laughter into his hand was beautiful.

First and foremost Sirius was struck by the height.  The guy was well over 6 foot of gangly limbs, completely dwarfing Sirius’ measly 5’6 frame.  As most guys do, Sirius usually went after girls who were shorter than himself but when it came to guys, well, Sirius had nothing against them being taller than himself.  Quite liked it, in fact.

Secondly Sirius noticed the amber eyes sparkling with mirth, closely followed by the spill of caramel curls peeking out from under his crimson beanie.  The rest of him that followed was no less enticing, including but not limited to his adorable grey cardigan, rolled up to his elbows to reveal tanned forearms, the hand covering his mouth lightened only by silvery scars, the tight jeans he wore - here Sirius had to fight off the irrational urge to ask the guy to turn around so he could see how fit his arse looked - and the mysterious pink scar that ran diagonally through his right eyebrow and eye, stopping in the middle of his cheek.

It took Sirius a couple of sluggish blinks to realise the beautiful creature before him was speaking and he responded with a moronic “uhhh,” the correct way to use his tongue escaping him for the moment.  The guy laughed huskily, the sound like pure honey, making Sirius’ knees shake and pulled his hand away from his mouth, drawing Sirius’ eyes to his- nope, Sirius certainly did not need to be looking at those perfect, kissable lips.  Instead he looked back into those brilliant eyes and tried to focus as the guy asked in a slow, affected voice, “I said: did you need some help?”

And Jesus.  Freaking.  Christ.  Sirius had always had a thing for accents and the soft lilt of the guy’s welsh accent had Sirius reaching a subtle hand to steady himself against the bookshelf.  Judging by the smirk that appeared on the guy’s face, Sirius might not have been as subtle as he hoped.

Jolted by the realisation that the guy was still waiting for an answer and stumbled for a few seconds over a response before nodding stupidly, trying to ignore the heat he could feel flooding his cheeks.  The guy’s smirk widened and he walked forward, right into Sirius’ personal space and without taking his stunning eyes of Sirius’ reached up - and Sirius had to curse again as he realised that he didn’t even have to fully extend his arm to reach the book - and snagged the book, pressing it into Sirius’ uncooperative hands.

“Here,” he murmured and Sirius had to forcibly restrain the shiver that threatened to run down his spine.

The guy waited for Sirius to stutter out a shaky thank you before grinning once more and wandering away, allowing Sirius ample time to realise yes, his arse did indeed look even fitter in those tight jeans than he had previously imagined.  As soon as the guy disappeared from sight, Sirius collapsed into the shelves, the book tumbling from his grasp and hitting the floor with an audible thump.


“Hey, arsehole, you do realise that we’re all waiting for you right.”

“James, I’m in love.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.  Hold on I’m putting you on speaker phone.”

Sirius jumped from foot to foot as he peered through the gap between the shelves, keeping his eyes peeled for Beautiful Library Boy or BLB as he had so been dubbed.  The sound emanating from his phone suddenly doubled in volume as his friends greeted him accompanied by the scrape of silverware on dishes, establishing that they were indeed waiting for him at the cafe they were planning to have dinner at.

“Ok how can you be in love?  I thought you had the hots for one of the Prewett twins just last week,” Lily’s voice was soft and calm, which came as a relief after James’ brashness a moment before.

“No, Lils.  This guy is- He’s just-  I can’t even- eugh,” Sirius grunted finally giving up when his words failed to be adequate.  “Just hold on, I’m sending you a photo.”

“Great now we’re in stalking territory,” came James’ sarcastic reply.

“Yeah, this is almost as bad as that time…” but the rest of Peter’s equally sarcastic contribution was lost as Sirius pulled the phone away from his ear to text through the photo he had covertly snapped before.

He lifted the phone back to his ear, coming back in time to hear Marlene tell an embarrassing story of Sirius pursuing an extremely uninterested girl, the chiming tone of Lily’s phone interrupting her halfway through.  Sirius waited impatiently, eyes still raking over the library as silence descended over the line followed by a collective gasp from the group.

“He’s…” James said and Sirius had to wonder if his best mate’s unshakable heterosexuality had possibly taken a hit.

“Tall…?” Peter asked and Sirius repressed the urge to roll his eyes at the daft description.

“If I was single…” Lily murmured.  Sirius grinned at James’ ensuing outrage squawk.

“He’s fucking hot,” Marlene blurted out and Sirius had to agree.

The shot, he knew had been a good one, catching BLB right as the sinking sun’s rays illuminated him.  In the photo he was reaching up for a book on the highest shelf, his plain white tee riding up to reveal a sharp hipbone.  His lip was caught was between his teeth and the profile shot highlighted his sharp cheekbones.

“I know,” Sirius whined, chancing a glance around the end of the aisle to see if BLB was still sitting behind the main desk as he had been for the last half an hour, confirming that he did work in the library as Sirius had begun to suspect.

“Jesus Christ.  I have half a mind to come take him for myself,” Marlene said, practically purring.

“Hey back off bitch,” Sirius growled back, not worried at all that he was going to offend his blonde friend.  

And true to her nature Marlene just laughed.  “Don’t worry, love, you know I’m interested in that hot chick that works at the pub anyway.”

“Listen,” James said, suddenly all business.  “Is the guy still there?”


“Then grow some balls and go ask him out, alright?  You’ve got half an hour to do that and get over here, or we’re starting without you got it?”

And before Sirius had a chance to argue, James was hanging up without another word.  Sirius swore under his breath and vowed to look into getting some new friends, before stuffing his phone into his pocket and made his way up to the desk, snagging a book that had caught his eye earlier, on his way.  He wasn’t even sure if BLB was into boys.

He took several steadying breaths as he approached the desk, which quickly turned into an inaudible - he hoped anyway - gulp when he realised was BLB’s accent was in full affect as he spoke into his phone, speaking fluent welsh to whoever was on the other side of the phone.

When he caught sight of Sirius standing there, he got to his feet with a smile, taking the books from Sirius hands and began scanning their codes into the computer, balancing his phone between his shoulder and his ear.

“Listen Alice, I’ve got to go.  You know some of us actually have a job,” BLB teased, switching abruptly to English.  “Yeah, yeah, I love you too,” he said distractedly as he began typing on his keyboard and Sirius felt his heart sink to his knees.  It didn’t matter now, he supposed, whether the beautiful guy liked guys or not.  Sirius had a strict rule against going after people who were taken; it wasn’t his style.

“Sorry about that,” BLB said with a smile as he slid his phone into his back pocket.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sirius murmured, before adding out of politeness, “How long have you and your girlfriend been together?”

“My girl-?  Oh you mean Alice,” he replied, looking up from where he was scrawling the due date onto the card at the back of each book.  “She’s not my girlfriend.  Just a close friend.  My best friend actually.”

“Oh,” Sirius said, struggling to keep the smile from his face and his heart jumped back into his throat at once.

“Got a library card?” BLB asked, stacking the books on top of each other.

Sirius fished the card he had stolen from Lily out of his pocket and handed it over.  They lapsed into silence with Sirius scrambling for something to say as BLB typed the number into the computer.

“Didn’t have you pegged as a Lily,” he said, breaking the silence as they waited for the ancient machine to do its thing.

“Sorry?” Sirius said, momentarily baffled before remembering that Lily’s name would be on the back of the card.  “Oh no, I’m Sirius but my friend Lily’s a total nerd so I borrowed her card, knowing she had one to every library around.  Not that being a nerd is a bad thing or anything,” Sirius said in horror as he realised what he had said.  “She’s read every book in every library at least twice.  I swear she’s the smartest person I know.  Reading’s just not my thing,” he finished lamely.

“Well for someone who doesn’t read much, you’ve got good taste,” BLB said, tapping a finger on the flowing title, Le Comte de Monte-Cristo of the book on top.

“You’re into French Lit,” Sirius said, momentarily stunned.  He had never met anyone his own age who also read French classics.  He only read them himself because his mother had forced both himself and his brother to learn the language.

“Yeah, my Mam got me into them,” BLB replied distractedly, before thumping the computer soundly, prompting it into action.  After a whirr of activity the computer chirped happily and he slid the card back.  “Well enjoy your books and have a nice day.”

Sirius nodded and stepped away with a faint smile.  He didn’t make it more than half a dozen steps however before he was hurry back, to find the librarian watching him unabashedly.

“You want to go out with me?” Sirius asked and immediately wanted to kick himself.  Why couldn’t he ever think before he spoke?


“Why should you go out with me or-”

“No, why do you want to go out with me?”

Oh, let me count the ways.  “You read French Lit so I’m guessing you’re pretty bloody smart, you’re absolutely gorgeous and have the sexiest accent I’ve heard in my life,” Sirius rattled of, going with the philosophy, go big or go home.  He was rewarded with a blush staining the beautiful welshman’s cheeks.

“Well alright then,” he murmured and plucked Sirius’ wrist, swiping a pen off the desk as he did so and after searching for a place on Sirius’ ink stained hands he scribbled his number down, squishing it between a line of poetry Sirius had found scrawled in a text book and a music lyric.  “Call me sometime, Sirius,” he grinned before slipping away to help a customer who looked on the verge of clearing their throat impatiently.

Sirius sank back against the hard edge with a sigh and a grin, before lifting his wrist to stare at the numbers, noticing for the first time that BLB had added a message at the end.

By the way, my name is Remus.

Sirius traced the looping letters, the elegant swoop of the R and heaved another sigh, this one sounding suspiciously adoring.  And if he needed another ten or so minutes before he was able to walk without the aid of the desk, well that was his own business.  Well his and the dozen or so other browsers who were looking at him with varying degrees of concern.

I Forgive You

Request: Hi! Could I please request a one shot based on the scene in ‘Born under a bad sign’ where demon!sam attacks Jo? But instead of Jo, it’s the reader (who’s Jo’s little sister). And afterward she’s terrified of Sam and sticks to Dean’s side. So Dean and Sam slowly get her to trust Sammy again. I just really want a story based on that scene because Jared did an amazing job with it :) please and thank you!

Characters: Slight slight slight Dean x reader

A/N: Sorry it took so long and that it’s so long. I’m a little insecure when it comes to this one because I’m not sure how good it is so I apologize profusely for that. I really hope you enjoy it though and that it’s what you wanted!! Please please please send feedback for this post because I’m just not sure about it. Thanks!!

“Last call!” You yelled loudly into the bar and watched as several people rushed the bar all shouting drinks at you. If it was anyone else they would have panicked and asked everyone to repeat their drinks or form a line but not you. You were raised in a bar and had been doing this for years. You made quick mental notes of every drink and without breaking a sweat poured the drinks passing them out to thirsty patrons.

You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on your face as you looked back at the bar, everyone talking, laughing, and generally having a good time.

Though you missed your mom, Ellen, and sister, Jo, you couldn’t help but be glad that you left. It felt nice to just get away from everything, especially the Winchesters. You knew that it was wrong to be mad at them for something their father did but you couldn’t help yourself. So extra distance was good, right?

“Hey Y/N.” The voice of your boss snapped you out of your thoughts as you looked up just in time to catch the keys hurtling in your direction “Lock up will ya?”

You offered a small nod, knowing that you didn’t have much of a choice, before turning back to the glasses you were cleaning. It was going to be a long night.


“Bye.” You waved as the last of the patrons left for the night before turning back to the bar wiping off the counter with an old rag.

You heard someone clear their throat from over your shoulder and turned around expecting it to be some guy too drunk to form a coherent thought. However, to your surprise you found Sam Winchester standing in the doorway.

“Well you were about the last person I was expecting.” You joked lightheartedly doing your best to be nice, trying to remember that it wasn’t Sam who killed your father.

“Yeah,” Sam chuckled softly “Can I get a beer?”

You bit your lip and hesitated for a moment before, against you better judgment, agreeing. “Yeah sure, one beer coming up.”

Sam slowly made his way to the bar and you slammed his beer on counter without even thinking about it, screw being nice you wanted to go home, before walking across the bar and picking up some of the bottles. “So how’d you find me?”

“Well,” Sam almost chuckled but never managed to get it to the surface. “It’s what we do.”

“Speaking of Dean, where is he?” You asked, it was unlike one Winchester to travel without the other.

“He couldn’t make it.” Sam answered quickly, much too quickly for it to be a truthful response.

“What are you doing here Sam? We didn’t exactly part on the best of terms.” You sighed desperate to get him out of your bar.

“Right…um that’s why I’m here. I kinda wanted to see if we could square things.” Sam answered slowly while taking off his jacket, showing that he intended to stay for a while. However, in the mist of the action you caught sight of a strange burn mark on his forearm.

“That looks like it hurts.” You noted gesturing towards the burn.

Sam chuckled softly and hesitated slightly before answering “Yeah, had a nasty run in with a hot stove.”

This caused you to mentally groan. He was acting strange and after the long shift you had just finished you were desperate to get him out of here. “Anyway squaring things.”

“Yeah,” Sam answered looking slightly relieved that you stopped questioning him though at this point you didn’t care. “look I know how you feel about my dad…I can’t say I blame you. He was obsessed…consumed with hunting and he didn’t care who got caught in the crossfire…and I guess that included your father.”

You bit your lip again and looked away wanting nothing more than the ability to disappear.

“but that was my dad.” Sam continued “not me.”

“What about Dean?” You asked, your curiosity about the oldest Winchester wining out over your desire to avoid this conversation all together.

“Well Dean’s more like my father-“ Sam began talking quickly before looking up at you and chuckling slightly. “Boy you’re really carrying the touch for him aren’t you.”

You looked away finding it hard to meet his gaze, this wasn’t like Sam. He knew about your crush but he never once threw it in your face like he was now.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He almost chuckled again obviously finding your discomfort amusing. You only glared at him. “Too bad, cause Dean, he likes you sure but not in the way you want…I mean maybe as kind of a little sister, but romance…that’s just out of the question. He kind of thinks you’re a schoolgirl, you know?”

You clenched your jaw and turned away from him.

“I’m not trying to hurt you.” He assured you. “I-I’m telling you because I care.”

You looked at him trying to keep tears from so much as pooling in your eyes. You knew that Dean didn’t like you like that but it still hurt. “Well that’s real kind of you Sam.”

“I mean it.” Sam said softly placing his hand over yours causing you to draw your eyebrows together in confusion. “I care about you a lot.”

“What’s going on?” You asked confusion very evident on your face.

“I can be more to you.” Sam answered softly and he held onto your arm tighter as you struggled to pull away.

“I think you should leave Sam.” You said softly afraid of angering him.

Sam watched you for a moment before letting go of your arm allowing you to pull it back towards you. “ok.” And just like that he walked off.

You turned back to the counter and began to wipe it off absent mindedly and your brain struggled to comprehend what had just happened.

Suddenly a large body pushed you into the counter pinning you. You immediately knew who it was “Sam?”

He, however, didn’t answer and instead wrapped his arms around your head.

“SAM STOP!” You exclaimed trying to get out of his hold.

“SAM PLEASE STOP!” You begged as your arm desperately grasped for an empty beer bottle just within your reach.

You mentally sighed in relief when you felt your fingers wrap around the cool glass. You quickly brought the bottle up to meet Sam’s head only his hand stopped you and broke the glass against the counter top instead. He laced his fingers into your hair and you knew what was going to happen. He quickly banged your head against the bar effectively knocking you out.


When you finally came to you found yourself tied up to one of the support beams, your head screaming in agony.

As soon as Sam noticed you were awake he wasted no time in beginning his interrogation. “So what exactly did your mom tell you about how your dad died?”

“You’re not Sam.” Was your only reply as you stubbornly refused to answer.

“Don’t be so sure now answer the question.” Sam said quickly.

You kept your mouth shut and watched as he walked around the beam and sat in front of you.

“Come on its me.” Sam said as he pulled out a large knife waving it in front of your face. “You can tell me anything, you know that. Answer the question.”

You hesitated for a moment. Was this information really worth torture? “Fine.”

“Fine.” Sam said immediately after much like a little kid who always had to have the last word.

“Our dads were in California, some kind of hell spawn.” You started not meeting his gaze. “My dad was bait and your dad was supposed to sit and wait.”

“Just like John.” Sam interrupted. “I bet he dangled Bill like meat on a hook. Then what?”

You clenched your jaw in anger but none-the-less continued “When the thing showed itself your dad revealed himself prematurely. The thing attacked and killed my dad.” You answered shortly.

“Not quite.” Sam almost laughed as he walked around you causing you to furrow your eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” You asked or more like demanded.

“Oh what?” Sam acted as if he never meant for you to hear him but you knew better, this was just another form of torture and frankly you weren’t sure which one hurt worse. “It hurt him, it didn’t kill him.” Sam looked at you to gage your reaction as a smile ghosted across his lips at seeing you confused “You really don’t know the truth do you? Bet your mom doesn’t either. And certainly not Jo.”

You felt yourself getting madder at the mention of your family, who the hell does he think he is?

“You see Bill was all clawed up, he was holding his insides in his hands, praying to see you and Ellen and Jo one more time.”

You felt tears pool in your eyes but didn’t say anything, desperate to know what happened next.

“So my dad…killed him. He put him out of his misery like a sick dog.” Sam laughed as a single tear betrayed you and streamed down your cheek.

“You’re lying.” You spat willing your voice not to crack.

“I’m not it’s true.” Sam assured you. “My daddy shot your daddy in the head.” He sang

“How’d you know?” You asked hoping to gain some info as to what this thing was because it certainly wasn’t Sam.

“I hear things.” He answered quickly again.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You asked still struggling to keep your voice steady.

“Like daddy like daughter. You’re bait. Open up.” Sam commanded as he forced a make-shift gag into your mouth.

You complied not seeing any reason not to-he had already done the damage.

There was a loud bang and suddenly Dean was standing in the bar, a gun pointed at Sam. You watched as Sam’s whole demeanor changed. He almost looked sad as he begged for Dean to kill him.

You furrowed your brows but clocked out of the conversation as a whole. If there was one thing you knew it was that Dean wasn’t going to shoot Sam. However, your attention refocused as you saw Sam hiss and smoke rise from his skin.

“That’s holy water you demonic son-of-a-bitch.” Dean spat as you watched Sam run for the window and jump out of it.

Without a moment of hesitation Dean was by your side quickly untying you before running after his brother. You sunk to the ground and hugged your knees, your body and mind unsure of how to handle this situation.

After mere minutes of sitting in this position you realized what you had to do, help Dean. So you grabbed your flashlight, phone, and gun and hopped out of the window after him calling Dean’s cell.


As you reached Dean’s voicemail for the second time you were beginning to give up, deciding to call one more time when you heard it: Dean’s ringtone.

You followed it only to find Dean laying at the bottom of the Dock. You ran to him turning him over effectively waking him up.


He only grunted in response but that was good enough for you. You helped him stand up, careful to avoid his shoulder that he was favoring and brought him back to the bar prepared to patch him up.


You plopped the bullet into a glass and began reaching for the gauze as Dean began to stand up.

“Hold on, would you give me two minutes to patch you up?”

Dean only glared at you before plopping himself back into the chair allowing you to tape some gauze to his shoulder.

“So where to next?” You asked hoping to earn an answer from him.

“Well Sam’s been going after hunters so that should lead us somewhere.” He answered as you put the last piece of tape on his shoulder.

“Ok let’s go.” You said standing up.

“Whoa what do you think you’re doing?” He asked holding up a hand to stop you.

“Going with you.” You answered simply. “Like it or not I’m involved now.”

“No this is my mess and I’m cleaning it up.” Dean shot back angrily “Now if you follow me I will tie you back to that post myself.”

You clenched your jaw, no way in hell was Dean stopping you. “Come on Dean your hurt and we both know I’m a better shot than you are, hurt shoulder or not.”

“Well we’re not shooting my brother so sadly your skills are not needed.” Dean spat sarcastically trying to get around you.

“But can you guarantee that whatever hunter he’s going after won’t do the same?” You raised an eyebrow doing your best to contain your smirk as you saw Dean hesitate.

“Fine” He finally agreed. “But you stay behind me, I will not have your blood on my hands.”

He didn’t even wait for you to agree before walking out of the door as you followed closely behind.


You sat in the front seat of the impala next to Dean as he tried to call Sam’s number for the third time, however, this time the phone rang before he could click dial.

Dean immediately picked it up and held it to his ear. “Bobby?”


You leaned against the doorframe with your arms crossed as you watched the scene in front of you.

Sam was tied to a chair screaming as Bobby recited an exorcism and Dean sat eye level with him. However, you found yourself unable to keep your eyes off of the mark on his forearm, it felt familiar.

Your eyes widened as you realized what it was “It won’t work.” You whispered to yourself.

“It won’t work” You practically yelled thus catching Bobby and Dean’s attention both of them stopping as Sam smirked at you.

“Clever girl.” Sam remarked chuckling slightly.

“What are you talking about?” Dean questioned.

“the mark.” You gestured to the burn on his arm while Bobby went for it seizing Sam’s arm in his own.

“Balls.” He muttered before throwing Sam’s arm down.

“What?” Dean questioned clearly annoyed that you and Bobby knew something that he didn’t.

“Think of it as a lock.” Bobby began to explain while Sam just laughed. “We can’t get the demon out with it.”

“While how do we stop it?” Dean questioned growing more frustrated by the second.

“You don’t” Sam answered his eyes flashing black for a brief moment before he hung his head low and began muttering Latin.

The fire began to roar and the entire house shook. Dean was by your side in a matter of seconds holding on to you in an attempt to steady you even though he was equally as shaky.

Suddenly the celling cracked thus breaking the devils trap. “That’s better.” Sam smirked before throwing you Dean and bobby in different directions across the room.

Your head hit the wall and for the second time today you were knocked unconscious.


When you came to you saw Sam standing over Dean, a disgusting smirk painted across his lips. You looked around the room and saw Bobby still unconscious on the other side of the room. There was only one thing you could think to do and you sure hoped it worked.

You slowly crept over to the fireplace and grabbed the fire poker slowly making your way back to Sam.

You heard Dean’s screams of pain and picked up the pace, finding yourself standing behind Sam in a matter of seconds. You grabbed his arm and pressed the hot poker to the mark thus forcing the demon out of Sam’s body.

You immediately dropped to the floor, the adrenaline wearing off and in its came an unbearable pain in your head.

You saw spots in your vision, threatening to make you black out. You tried to blink them away but that only made it worse. Instead you began taking slow deep breaths. After a few of those the spots began to subside and your vision came back.

Placed mere inches in front of your face was Sam. He looked down at you with concern and guilt written into every feature of his face.

You involuntarily screamed and pushed away from him, unknowingly pushing yourself right into Dean who didn’t hesitate before wrapping his arms around you.

Sam looked at you, guilt and hurt evident on his face, as you sat in Dean’s arms. You couldn’t help but feel safe in his embrace as you found it easier to breathe.

“Y/N I’m so-“ Sam began but you quickly interrupted him.

“Don’t be it wasn’t you.” You tried to say but your voice cracked several times thus making the words unrecognizable, it was probably for the best for you weren’t entirely sure that you believed them.

“You have to know I didn’t mean it, it wasn’t me.” Sam begged.

“I know it wasn’t Sam.” You answered slowly as Dean’s embrace tightened slightly giving you a greater sense of security. “But you also have to understand that I’ll need some time.”

“Absolutely” Sam said quickly, which reminded you of how the demon would answer your questions. “All of the time you need.”

“I don’t think I can go back.” You whispered more to yourself but Dean’s ears managed to pick up a small piece of it.

“what?” He asked from above you.

“I can’t go back.” You answered louder. “I can’t stop hunting and I definitely can’t keep living on my own.” You admitted with a small voice, you hated admitting weakness but desperate times called for desperate measures.

“You can stay with us.” Dean didn’t hesitate before answering.

You bit your lip and took a quick look in Sam’s direction. “Hey.” Dean said softly pulling your gaze back to him. “We can get a separate room if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You hesitated for a moment, that would be easier but it would also be unfair to Sam. “No that’s ok”

You didn’t miss the small sigh of relief that came from Sam’s lips and it made a smile slightly tug at the corners of your lips. You turned around and looked in Sam’s direction. You swallowed down every fear and thought against him and in two big strides were standing in front of him.

You wrapped your arms around him quickly while whispering “I forgive you.”

Sam hesitated before wrapping his arms softly around you knowing exactly what you had to do in order to allow yourself to do this. “Thank you.”

#9 part 2 Newt high school AU: Fix You

Requested by: anon
Prompt: ((part 2)) Newt tries to win back the reader after a breakup
A/N: the anon request was to do this with Newt’s POV and like I said, I did part 1 in readers POV and this final part will be in Newt’s. I hope this is okay :))


I genuinely don’t think that I’ve been this bloody down in all my life. I’ve managed to blow the only thing that’s ever mattered to me and I don’t even know how. Thank goodness I’m good at hiding my emotions around school, because that smile I’ve been wearing is a mask. A mask that gets ripped apart behind closed doors.

I saw her today, (y/n). She was heading to her locker before going home. She always goes to her locker before leaving school. God did she look beautiful. Even in her sweats and hoodie she still manages to look gorgeous. Although, I don’t know why she’s wearing those clothes as she too seems to be taking our separation extremely sound. Well, as far as I know, anyway. She’s not even looked up at me once in the hallways so I haven’t seen her face in a week. That alone kills me.

To be honest though, I wouldn’t be too surprised if she was taking it all fine and dandy because she was the one who broke it off. Again, I still don’t know why, but I’m guessing that she might’ve just gotten tired of our relationship. But can you really just instantly get tired of an almost-two year- relationship with just one argument? Then again, we have been arguing and bickering about pointless topics lately.

It’s probably my fault. I’ve most likely brought this on myself.

Right now, I’m sitting in my bedroom with a chair propped up against my door so that nobody can come in. I’m flicking though old photos of us on my camera roll. They’re all I have left apart from our endless late night text messages. Hot tears are burning my vision, but I’m refusing to let them fall. I’m not going to cry again. God, am I asking to much to have her back? I would try and get her back, but she broke it off and probably doesn’t want anything to do with me. My eyes begin to blaze from the salty dam pushing to break.

All I want is (y/n) and I want her here. If she were with me right now, she wouldn’t hesitate to curl up next to me and wrap her arms around my torso. She’d run her hands through my hair and tell me everything’s going to be alright. God, she’d even kiss me senseless until all the tears had fallen. (y/n) wasn’t one to let me keep emotions bundled up, she’d make sure I let them all out so that I could feel pure again. I adored that about her, as well as many other things.

I’m about to give in to the sting in my eyes when my phone vibrates in my hand. A text message.

Before I even look at the phone screen, I’ve assembled countless assumptions of who it is. Example: Minho asking me if I can help him with his Geometry homework (which in Minho-talk means answers). It could be Alby asking me if I can make it to Lacrosse practice tomorrow. It could be Thomas asking me if I’ve seen Teresa. It could be Teresa asking me if I’ve seen Thomas. It could even be bloody Sonya asking me for the billionth time if I want to hook up (that girl needs to take a hint).

But no. When I check my phone screen, I’m surprised out of my mind to see that it’s not Minho, Alby, Thomas, Teresa or thank The Lord Sonya. It’s (y/n).

The message reads seven simple words: “I’m so sorry. I’ve made a huge mistake.”

In that moment, I swear my heart stops. But not just from surprise, also from anger.

I mean, how could she even think that a simple “I’m so sorry” will make everything better? It won’t! She was the one who broke our bloody relationship and now she’s apologising? And “I’ve made a huge mistake?” Yeah! You bloody well have love!

I know this is kind of what I’ve wanted and all, but it’s still a little bit cruel. How does she know I’ve not moved on? For all (y/n) knows, I could have a new love interest…

Oh shuck it. I’m still madly in love with her. But I’m not going to tell her that today. Oh no, (y/n)’s not getting a reply to that message. If she’s going to mess me around, she’s going to have to wait until tomorrow before she gets what she wants. Well, what I think she wants.

Tonight, I draw up my plan and tomorrow I hatch it…

—the next day—

“It’s brilliant. Bloody brilliant I tell you!” I laugh, practically skipping next to Minho and Thomas. Of course, they heard about our break up and I’ve just told them how I’m going to try and get her back. I love her too much to loose her.

“You seem mighty confident for someone with a broken heart?” Thomas teases.

“Look, she means the world to me. So yes, I may be as scared as shuck. But I have to at least pretend to be confident, right?” I go on.

Minho chuckles. “You’ve got a lot of fighting talk in there son.”

In response, I nod and finish off the walk to class. The class before I give this idea of mine a shot. Yeah, in reality I’m more scared than a mouse is of a cat, but it’s worth a try. I mean, what’ve I got to loose?

The class that I’m in is Algebra and I tell you what it drags on. I swear that our professor could talk to us for hours about ‘algebraic simultaneous equations’ for hours if they had the chance. And what makes this whole lesson worse is that I have to sit by Sonya. The Sonya who is constantly trying to get into my pants. Of course, that’s not going to happen. Not now. Not ever.

“Doesn’t this lesson DRAG, Newtie?” She coos, attempting to flirt with my by rolling her hair around her finger.

“Yes.” I say bluntly, not even sparing her a glance.

“Hey, you should come over to my house sometime. My beds super comfy and-”

I cut her off sharply before she can finish. “Sonya. Are you going to take the hint or are you even more stupid than I thought you were? I am in love with (y/n)!” I hiss.

“Oh please. You’re not even together.” She rolls her eyes and re-coils her hair around her finger, crossing her legs and bending over slightly into the desk.

“And that is none of your business.” I growl at her before focusing back on the professor. Sonya goes silent for a second before piping up again.

“You know what Newt, you’ll be sorry! You’ll never find anyone like me!” She hisses at me.

“Well that’s kind of the point, Sonya. I don’t know WHO would want to find anyone like you.” I sight innocently and shrug.

Sonya makes this weird high pitched gasping noise and doesn’t speak to me for the rest of the lesson. When the bell goes, I’m relieved. Until of course, Sonya has one last go at me.

“You’ll regret this Newt, just you wait! You’ll want me soon enough!” She practically pleads to me. Honestly, it’s kind of irritating.

“Look, I’m kind of busy here. I know you’ve slept with half the guys in our year, but I’m not and never will be one of them. Now, can I ignore you some other time?” I say sarcastically and proudly before walking down the hall on my way to lunch. I hope that’s shaken her off for good.

Once I reach the canteen, I search out for Minho and Thomas and sit down with them.

“So, are you planning on talking up your ‘master plan’?” Minho asks me sarcastically. In response, I nod. But not before I punch him in the shoulder for being sarcastic.

It’s another five-or-so minutes before I spot (y/n) walking in with Teresa. She still looks as beautiful as ever with her sweats and matted hair. Although I can now tell that she has in fact been upset. Even from this distance I can see the blotchy red eyes and tear stained cheeks. The sight plays at my heart strings and it’s not a pretty melody. I don’t ever want to see her cry.

Still looking at (y/n), I see that she’s got her food and is sitting with Teresa.

It’s now or never.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I climb up on my chair and stand in the centre of our lunch table. I’ve already managed to capture the attention of people close by, but that’s not enough.

“Excuse me!” I shout, mildly loud. A few more groups of people have turned in our direction, but not everyone or even (y/n) has noticed me making a total fool out of myself yet.

“EXCUSE ME?!” I practically yell, and it works. I’ve got the attention of the entire cafeteria and suddenly it’s rather daunting: standing in the middle of a table, re-confessing your love to someone.

“Uh…” I start. This has to be brilliant. “This past week has been the worst week of my entire life!” The whole school is staring at me, including (y/n) who looks deeply confused but mostly saddened. So I go on.

“As some of you may or may not well know, (y/n) and I split up last week after nearly a two year relationship. Why you may ask? Honestly, I have no idea.” Some of the crowd laugh, which gives me an extra boost of confidence.

“But you see, I’m not over it. Our relationship in my opinion, is far from over. It’s not broken, just bruised. And I believe that we can fix it. (y/n),” I say, looking right at her. “Do you want to know why I think that we can fix it?”

All eyes are on her now, and she shrugs at me, the slightest glimmer of hope flashing through her eyes.

“Because (y/n), you and I are indestructible. And I will stand here in front of the whole school and tell you this. Now if that isn’t enough proof I don’t know what is. But if you still need some more persuasion, then listen here. Because (y/n), I love you.”

Again, I get another response from some of the audience. But instead of laughter, it’s the sound of “aww’s”.

“(y/n), I have loved you since I met you back in freshman year. One year later, I plucked up the courage to ask you out, if I remember rightly, on your sixteenth birthday. Now we are both seniors and have been through thick and thin and I still love you. Four years on (y/n), I am still madly in love with you. Everything about you makes me complete and with you gone, I feel like something’s missing from me. Like an actual part of me has gone. Just like we need our heart, lungs and brain to survive, I need you to survive (y/n). In fact, I don’t just love you, I am in love with you. You complete me.”

I finish my grand gesture there, and applause errors from the school. When I look down, I see that (y/n) had moved to stand right down in front of me. The teenagers go silent, as if they’re waiting for the big reveal in a movie scene.

Instead of getting down, I pull (y/n) up onto the table to meet me. Touching her for the first time in a week feels like heaven.

“Newt.” She whispers, looking me dead in the eye. It looks like she may start crying. “We complete each other.”

I don’t waste a second more before pulling her towards me and crashing my lips into hers. She responds immediately and all of a sudden I am back. We have to break apart quite quickly as the entire school is watching us kiss on a table while hollering at us.

“I love you Newt. And I’m so so sorry” (y/n) says, weakly smiling at me.

“Not as much as I love you (y/n). Don’t worry, you should never have to apologise to me.” I reply, helping her down off the table.

“I swear, I’ll never hurt you.” She goes on, holding my hand tight.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, (y/n). Just promise me that you will love me until there’s nothing left to love, okay?” I ask her, kissing her forehead.

(y/n) smiles widely again, hugging my side. “Okay.”


A/N: aw haha. I hope you didn’t mind the little tfios reference at the end there. Also, I hope this wasn’t too cheesy lmao I’m worrying that it issss.
Anyways, thanks to anyone who reads this! I really hoped you liked it haha! Feedback is always lovely and it means an awful lot to me! Feel free to request imagines, my ask is always open! Love you all my munchkins :)))

‘Tales From the Bentley-Champagne, Water-Boarding, and the Long Way Home’

A/N: So this is apparently what happens when I tell hopedreamlovepray I want to write something fluffy when she’s had two beers on an empty stomach. She puts a dirty, dirty plot bunny into my head. And I ran with it. 

I know technically this happens in a limo, not a Bentley, but give it to me, okay? 

Hope you enjoy. This is totally NSFW! 

Tropes, including the car tropes can be found here-’Tales From the Bentley



Keep reading

Sick Day

You’re sitting on the couch, your feet propped up on the coffee table. You’ve got a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and a cup of tea balanced in your lap. You’ve somehow managed to catch a cold and lose your voice, so you’re stuck at home.

Beside you, your phone starts to ring. You glance at the caller I.D. and smile when you see Baekhyun’s picture. And then you frown because you realize you can’t talk to him. He’s been busy with promotions the past few days, so you haven’t gotten a chance to properly see him. Instead of answering, you text him.

            Hi Baek :) Sorry I can’t answer your call. Lost my voice. :( xx

Almost immediately, he replies.

            Be right there.

True to his word, he’s over at your house in fifteen minutes. You figured he’d only be stopping by; you don’t need him to get sick. However, when he walks in with two plastic bags from the grocery store, you know he’s planning to stay for a while.

“Baek,” you whisper. “You shouldn’t stay here. I’m probably contagious.”

Baekhyun pretends as if he can’t hear you and presses a kiss to your lips anyway. You shake your head, giving his chest a light push. You’re about to scold him, but he rests his finger against your lips, shushing you.

“Nuh-uh, no talking for you, my love. I love you, so you are going to be taken care of by me and you have to do everything I tell you because you love me.”

You tilt your head at this proposition and he grins cheekily at you. He sets his grocery bags down on the coffee table and rummages around in one of them. He apparently finds what he’s looking for and pulls it out. It’s a white board.

He gives it to you, including a marker and eraser. “Now, I’m going to make you soup. Would you like to join me?” You open your mouth to reply, but stop yourself. Instead, you nod your head and he helps you up. He starts chattering, telling you about his day and the promotions. He talks about the crazy gifts some of his fans have managed to give him in passing.

“Someone gave me a drawing of Chanyeol. It’s… interesting. You know how you always laugh when people pair me with Chanyeol? That is basically what it is.”

You know your usual laugh won’t come out, so you giggle inside and just smile broadly at the thought. His fans are dedicated, that’s for sure.

“Anyway, what else have I been up to?” He starts to hum as he begins making you soup. Eventually, his hum turns into a full on song. This song soon becomes a dance and you start silently laughing. He grabs your hand, lifting you out of your chair, and he begins twirling you around your kitchen.

“Baek, I’m going to throw up.” You’re partly laughing, partly serious. He smiles at you, gives you a quick peck on the lips before helping you back into your blanket cocoon.

“Okay, okay, what was I talking about before?”

You quickly write down on the board that he was updating you about his life. He taps the pot with his wooden spoon. “Yes, yes.” Baekhyun smiles at you. “Thank you, thank you. Okay…”

His stories seem endless and you’re surprised that he’s able to talk for so long without any real response. He’ll glance back at you occasionally as he’s cooking to see your reaction. But for most of the morning, your expression doesn’t change. You’re smiling and that seems to be enough for him.

Eventually, the soup is ready and he sets it down in front of you. He takes a seat across from you at the dining table. “Try it.”

You’re hesitant. Baekhyun isn’t known for his cooking. One time, he’d set up a romantic dinner for you guys and had Chanyeol cook everything before hand. When you found that out, you made sure to give Chanyeol a big hug. And you also told Baekhyun that it was okay if you had takeout on dates .

“I will eat it if it’s bad,” Baekhyun promises. The boy has his chin propped in his hands; he looks like a little puppy. You have to do it, just for that face. So bravely, you taste it and are surprised at how good it is. You start thinking that maybe you’re just so sick that you’re taste buds are messed up, but Baekhyun laughs at your reaction.

“Nailed it~!” he sings. You tilt your head as you continue eating. “Kyungsoo taught me this recipe. He said it was fool proof.” He pumps his fist in the air. “He was right.”

You smile as you continue eating. Your boyfriend is an idiot. “What do you think of it? Really think of it?” he asks.

You furrow your brow, wondering how to reply. You open your mouth, but he starts talking in a high-pitched voice. It’s supposed to be your voice.

“Oh my god, Baekhyun oppa~! It’s delicious! Please make me more when I’m not sick so that I can tell you how much I love it! You’re so handsome, oppa!” He gets carried away and basically starts giving himself more and more compliments.

While he boosts his own ego, you write on your board: You idiot, when do I ever call you oppa?

Baekhyun shrugs.

You study his face for a moment and erase the board clean. Quickly, you write something and flip the board to face him. Do you want me to call you oppa?

Baekhyun holds your gaze, but you don’t get a reaction. He juts his chin out towards you. “What do you normally call me?”

You give him a weird look. Obviously, he knows what you call him. You do it all the time. But the look he’s giving you lets you know he wants you to actually tell him.

You sigh deeply. You have to think about everything you possibly call Baekhyun. When your relationship first started, you used to call him and the others oppa. But now that you’ve known them for so long, you just dropped the formalities.

            Baek, love, idiot, stupid

Baekhyun looks as if he’s about to laugh when you show him the list. “I think you forgot some,” he says. He reaches across the table for the white board. You hand him the pen and then finish the rest of your soup. You are just slurping the last of the broth when he turns the white board back towards you.

            Superman, handsome, emperor, Your Highness, My Liege,

                   The Holy One, Awesomeness

You roll your eyes. Snatching the pen out of his hand, you quickly add at the bottom of the board: I think we forgot arrogant asshole.

He grins at you as he takes your bowl to wash it. “Baek, it’s okay, you don’t—” you whisper.

Baekhyun cuts you off. “No, no, no. I’m going to do it.”

This is what you love about Baekhyun. One minute he would be a complete idiot with a giant ego, then the next minute he would be the sweetest boy ever.

You’re about to stand to go back to the living room, but he surprises you, grabbing you around the waist to carry you back to the couch. You’re worried he’s going to toss you, because that’s how he usually does it, but today, he’s gentle with you. He carefully sets you down before squishing in next to you.

“Do I not get any blanket?” Baekhyun pouts.

You laugh a bit and take the blanket off your shoulders. You spread it out over the both of you and he places his arm on your shoulders. For a while, you just sit there in complete silence, staring at a black television screen.

You lean against him and ask, in a hoarse voice, “Are you going to turn on the television or are you waiting for me to get up to do it?”

“Oh!” he exclaims. “Right.”

You throw your head back with a laugh as he scrambles to turn the T.V. on. Oddly enough, Music Bank is on and it’s Exo performing. You give him a look, one that includes a raised eyebrow, and he chuckles as he climbs under the blanket next to you. “I swear I didn’t plan that. But,” he reaches for the remote and turns up the volume, “let’s watch it anyway.”

You snort, but don’t protest. You like watching them perform. You snuggle into his side and he stares down at you, watching as you slowly drift off to sleep. “Get better soon,” he mumbles as he kisses your hair.