zip duffle

Type: heartbreaker. - Peter Quill

Words: 2570 - ish.

Warning: feels, i guess?

A/N: I have a second part, which is the ending, but someone on Wattpad was mad at me and asked for an alternative ending, which i’ll publish soon.

Also, i wrote this in December 2016, before the movie came out, so it doesn’t follow the storyline of the movie at all. I am sorry.

Sorry for any typo!

Originally posted by darlingpanslove

You and your friends just landed on a new planet, temporarily. Somehow, during the short amount of time you were supposed to spend there, you found yourself in an unknown building, talking with a strange alien with antennas on her head.

“When I touch someone”, started the female alien, “I can feel their feelings.”

She put her hand on top of Peter’s, and she slowly raised her head to look at him.

You waited expectantly for the alien to read Peter’s feelings. You needed to know if you were right all along. You needed to know if you really had no chance.

“You feel…”, she made a short pause before going on, “love.”

You heart started beating faster and you watched Peter trying to defend himself.

“I guess – yeah – I feel general, unselfish love for just about everything –”

“No”, the alien immediately interrupted him, and you turned your attention back to her, “sexual love!”

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Service Industry

Characters: Sam, Dean x Female Reader  

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex  

Word count: 2100  

Summary: Sharing hotel rooms with a conjoining door makes sneaking quickies really easy!  

A/N: I kind of wrote this in a rush, so please tell me what you think! Gif not mine! One shot? There’s room for it to grow but I’m happy with it for now 


You toss a few more bottles into the black trash bag you’ve been dragging around and they clang together. The sudden sound of the glass beer bottles and cans crashing together wake both Sam and Dean at the same time, shooting up in their double beds.  

“Good morning, you too!” You sarcastically greet the Winchester brothers. When they see it’s just you and not some monster, Sam plops back down to the mattress, throwing the blanket over his face with a groan. Dean stays sitting up and blinks the sleep off, watching you work around the room. The motel had two adjoining rooms, which was perfect for you three, but also perfect for the midwestern classic: motel room party.  

“Housekeeping usually knocks before entering y/n.” Dean says sarcastically through a yawn. “Ugh, it’s too early. Why are you cleaning?” Dean groaned through a flex, and you snuck a quick peek as the sinew moved and stretched under his perfectly freckled bare chest. Before he could notice you pausing to check him out, you bent down and picked up a few styrofoam containers from last night’s dinner and tossed them into the bag.  

“Well, I’m all for the fun and shenanigans, but I used to work in the service industry and it’s just rude to leave such a crazy mess behind.” Sam had rolled over to face you both and was blinking back sleep. Dean looked quickly at Sam and made a face, which you didn’t miss.

With his head still turned towards Sam, you tossed the half full trash bag at Dean’s bare chest, startling him, but his quick reflexes caught the bag before it fell. “Plus, it’s just bad karma.” You grinned and returned to your room through the fire door to finish packing your things.  

You three had finished the latest hunt the night before last and went out to celebrate at the local bar last night. Turned out that some locals were also celebrating some big deal town football game win and the party had somehow continued back at your hotel rooms. Sure, it had been your idea to hide in plain sight, but after last night’s crazy party scene, you weren’t so sure if having a bunch of normal townspeople around was so great. Cleaning up the mess wasn’t such a big deal, but you knew all too well that people who hung around you could wind up hurt or dead. After your friends had started dropping dead, you started asking questions and looking into things, you’d found Sam and Dean and joined forces with them. Really, you didn’t give them a choice, you needed answers and to kill whatever was killing off your friends. You forced your way into hanging around, helping in whatever way possible. That was over a year ago, and you still weren’t any closer to finding that monster.

“Hey. You’ll be ready in 20 to hit the road?” Dean said, pulling you from your thoughts, standing at the shared doorway to the rooms behind you. He didn’t startle you, but you let out a breath, looked over your shoulder and answered, “Yea.” Your duffle bag was on the bed and was mostly packed, just not zipped. You leaned over and shoved a few stray pieces back in and started zipping.  

“Hey. You okay?”

“Mm, yep.” You mumbled in response. Busying yourself with the rest of the trash in the room.

“So… the service industry, huh?” He enunciated the word ‘service’ and in that whiskey smooth voice anything could sound sexy.

You let out a chuckle and turned to him, he could manage to bring a smile to your face even in your worst mood. “I’m not in the mood, Dean. Let’s just get on the road and get on another hunt.”

Dean had been leaning on the door jamb, but was now walking into your room, swinging the door shut and locking the deadbolt, effectively locking you both alone from Sam in the other room. You raised your hand, palm up, to ask him what for, but before you could voice the question, his eyes met yours. The liquid green was smoldering and his jaw clenching, causing a shiver to run up your spine. You had been hunting together for sometime now, but never had much time alone to focus on whatever these vibes were.  

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Imagine helping Dean dig up a grave.

A/N: This takes place S1E7 Hookman while Sam is watching Lori, you and Dean dig up the preacher’s grave.

Dean’s age-26

Sam’s age-22

Reader’s age-15

All gifs can be found here

“Why did I have to come with you?” You asked Dean while wiping sweat off your brow.

“Cause Sam needed some alone time with Lori, now pick up the pace, the sooner we get this done the sooner we can stop by that diner.” Dean responded.

You resumed digging the grave in silence when you broke the quiet again, “But why did he need alone with with Lori?”

“Ankle-biter” Dean groaned while leaning his head on the handle of his shovel. “He just does okay, after Jess he needs to get back out there.”

“How come he’s allowed to be ‘out there’ but I’m not?” You asked him with a smirk.

Dean looked at you dumbfounded, “You’re not allowed to date…like…ever. You know that.” He told you.

“Yeah, well, double standard.” You told him while smacking down on the coffin. “Yahtzee!”

Dean gave you a boost out of the hole before climbing out himself. He grabbed the salt and began salting the bones while you poured lighter fluid over the salt. Dean lit the match and tossed it into the hole. 

You both watched the bones burn for a bit before starting to gather everything up when Dean started talking to you, “You don’t really wanna go on dates do you? I mean, how do you even meet people?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t, it’s just fun to mess with you. Plus I’m not exactly your average teenage girl, dating isn’t an option, I know that.” You gave Dean a sad smile before zipping up the duffle and throwing it over your shoulder, “Can we go crash Sammy’s alone time now?”


For the Best

This is for @faith-in-dean‘s BMOL Writing Challenge. I do not own Mick or Ketch. They belong to the creators of Supernatural. 

Warnings: Angst! Slight Season 12 Spoilers!

Pairings: Mick Davies x fem!Winchester reader, Ketch

Originally posted by faith-in-dean

Mick wanted nothing more than to go to bed. The day had been long and hard. Hunting with the Winchesters was more difficult than he thought and Mick was just ready for the day to be over. He was ready to get to his room and pull his lady love close. The very thought made Mick smile.

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Devine (Part Four)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: non

Summary: As a young child you came in contact with an entity. It possessed your body and gave you unthinkable powers. You managed to keep your power hidden for the most of your life, but one day everything goes wrong and you get on the radar of The Avengers.

Word Count: 1.167

Originally posted by welcometoplanetrandom

It was close to midnight when you finally had the nerve to get out of your room to grab something to eat. You had been scared to go out and run into of The Avengers.

You slowly opened your bedroom door and checked if anyone was in the hallway. When you saw no one and heard no movement you let out a relieved breath and stepped into the dimly lit hallway.

You softly closed you bedroom door behind you and sneaked down the hallway, like some sort of burglar. It didn’t help either that you were wearing your hood over your head.

You sneaked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, looking for something addible.You only found a carton of orange juice and some cheese. You closed the fridge and moved to the pantries.

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Bite Me (Part 10)

Characters: Reader, Sam, Dean, minor OC’s (…a pairing is in the distant horizon… who do you think it’ll be?)

Warnings: mild language

Overview: You were raised in the hunter life. You fell out of it. It wasn’t your choice to get pulled back in.

Word Count: 1,862

A/N: This is the tenth installment in my first ever fanfic. Part 9 and 10 were originally one chapter, but I split them because this one is longer, hence the close together posting schedule. I’m adding a few more logs to the fire… These words, like everything else I write, are for me. Feel free to join me in the adventure.

Read (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9)

“Oh come on, Elana, you can’t be serious!” My friend, Mallory, was shaking her head in blatant disbelief.

We had just gotten out of dance class for the evening and had made our way to my workplace, settling into a corner table with a chai tea latte for me and something heavily flavored with pumpkin for her.  I shrugged at her and took a sip of my drink.

“But, I mean, come on! You’re twenty-six! You can’t still be…there’s no way you’re…” She was spluttering over her words.

“A virgin?” I finished for her, raising an eyebrow. “You act like the word is poisonous.”

She huffed and took a small sip from her mug before continuing, “I still don’t believe you. You’re a badass chick. Beautiful, confident,” she pointed a finger at me, “and sometimes even funny.”

I chuckled, “Wow, I didn’t realize those things directly correlated to sex.”

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Summary: A legend, the baddest of the bad. You had a reputation to uphold your senior year of High School, one of which was red lipstick, petite outfits, and leather jackets. However, when your friends Rey and Phasma convince you to join the cheerleading team, your reputation gets compromised in the most flavorful of ways.

A/N: Feedback greatly appreciated!

Words: 5.2 K +

Warning: None

There was a sudden silence that wrapped around you. What was once an echoing locker room, filled with girls chattering about and gossiping, was now dead quiet. Shifting your hips as you slid on the skin tight, too-short-shorts, you put on a rather old shirt that hugged your body. Tying your hair back, you slowly turned around as you did so, only to see everyone staring at you. Lifting a brow, you questioned, “What?”

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d.w - Part 2

Title: d.w.

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Word Count: 10,528

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Blood, Slightly Descriptive Injury

Summary: Under the hold of a ruthless djinn, Reader finds herself in her perfect world with a strangely perfect man she’d never seen before.

Part: 2/2

Previous Part: Part One

A/N: As per your requests, here’s a part two. I was kinda hesitant in writing one because I didn’t want to drag it out. But, you all seem to really enjoy it. So, I hope you like this one just as much. Just a quick disclaimer; a Niche, and a Krismet are made up creatures that I specifically made up to fit the story line. I, also, made up a small town in Colorado called Clotho because that fits the story as well. If you’d like, you can look up the meanings behind the words, Krismet (try removing the ‘r’) and Clotho to see why I added them. However, I urge you to finish the story first so that you don’t ruin the ending for yourselves. It’s very long, so grab some coffee or tea or whatever it is that you like to drink, and get comfortable. Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this. Thank you!

Originally posted by debatchery


The moment he walked out the door, you rushed around the room, ignoring the throbbing pain on your arm where your stitches sat. The only thing on your mind was packing your things, getting your sister to pack her things, and getting the fuck out of here. All this was a little too fucked up, even for your-devil-tortured-self.

“(Y/N)!” your sister exclaimed once she walked into the room. She was about to rush over to you, when she noticed your frantic actions. “What are you-”

You cut her off, zipping your duffle bag. “Pack your shit.” you demanded, pulling off your bloody clothes and changing into the new ones you’ve already laid out.

“Why?” she asked, shutting the door.

You pulled on a fresh pair of black jeans, answering, “Look, I can’t explain it all right now. I just really need you to go get your shit.”

Your sister furrowed her eyebrows as she tried to understand your words. “Did Dean do something?” she questioned. “Cause I’ll kick his ass.”

At the mention of his name, you froze with the clean, army green shirt only covering your arms and half your torso. “No,” you responded after a minute, pulling the shirt all the way down. “No, he didn’t. (Y/S/N/N), just please trust me on this.”

Thankfully, she didn’t try to challenge you again, and hurried out of the room. “I’ll be back in five.” she called over her shoulder as she ran down the long hallway.

You sighed of relief, throwing on your black leather jacket and knee-high combat boots. You sat down on the edge of the bed and tied the laces. From the corner of your eye, you noticed a glare off the chair he previously occupied. Tightening the bow on your boots, you felt around your neck, only feeling your bare skin. You immediately shot up out of your seat and made your way to the chair. There, covered in droplets of dried blood, was your sliver necklace.

Did he take my necklace? You wondered, picking it up and gently scratching off the dried blood. Your mind raced with multiple reasons as to why he would do such a thing, but none seemed to make any sense. However, it didn’t even matter at this point. You were leaving, and he was staying here – far, far away from you.

Pulling you hair to the side, you clasped on you necklace. Your fingers held on to the misty blue pendent as memories of your father resurfaced. True, your time with him moments ago was practically a dream. Yet, still, a part of you wished you had stayed in that life.

“Let’s go,” your sister called, walking passed the room.

You snapped your eyes away from the necklace and you grabbed your bag, quickly jogging after her. You felt a little out of place in the long hallways, and the crappy lighting. “Where the hell are we anyways?” you asked, turning down the corridors.

“It’s their bunker. It belonged to some cult or something and they’re the last ones part of it.” she explained, leading you down an extensive stairwell.  

You snorted at the thought of Dean as a cult member. “What do they do?”

“They pretty much hunt with just a bit more brain power. They have tonnes of books on every monster imaginable.”

The both of you entered, what seemed to be, the garage. There were many cars and motorbikes lined up behind one another. And, in the centre right beside your mother’s crappy bug, was the beautiful black car you saw in your wish.

Your sister led you past it and it took everything in you not to touch it again. How the hell did you know that this was his car? The pounding of your heart echoed in your ears as your sister unlocked your car doors.

“Are you alright?” she asked, opening the trunk and tossing her bag in.

You looked up at her with wide eyes. “Yeah,” you breathed, handing her your bag.

“Let it go, Sam.” his deep voice suddenly sounded. Before either of you could react, Dean entered with the taller man beside him – Sam. Dean’s eyes landed on the two of you as his brows furrowed. “We’re taking separate cars?” he asked, confusion ridden all over his handsome face.

“What are you talking about?” you questioned, looking between him and your sister.

She shut her eyes, and let out a little sigh. “Shit.” she muttered, before meeting your bemused stare. “I forgot I promised them I would help them with a case.” she whispered low enough for only you to hear.

Fuck no. “Why the fuck would you do that?” you hissed, fear suddenly crawling up your throat again.

“They helped me find you.” she replied, in the same harsh tone. “If it weren’t for them, you’d be dead.”

You shook your head. “No, I got myself out. I don’t want – need him – them.” you stuttered over your words, feeling his gorgeous green eyes on you.

“Got out of what?” she asked. “You were still tied up when we found you.”

Shit. You mentally cursed. You’d said too fucking much and with him standing so close. Shaking your head, you mumbled, “Never mind. Look, we help them, then we leave.”

Your sister hesitated. You knew she wanted to fight the truth out of you, but she glanced behind you at the two men. Reverting her eyes back to you, she reluctantly nodded.

“No, we just had to get some weapons.” she lied, looking back at the brothers. “We like to use our own.”

You let out a little breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Readjusting the bag on your shoulder, you walked passed her and lifted the false bottom, pulling out your guns and several bullets.

The two boys nodded, sharing a confused look as they got into their car and waited.

“You’re telling me what the fuck this is about later.” (Y/S/N) whispered, shooting you a hard glare.

You gave her a little nod as you hid your knives in your boot and the gun in your waistband. Your eyes landed on the back of the car, and you swallowed your terrors. This guy, whoever the hell he was, was attached to you somehow. And, if in a perfect world of pure imagination and wishful thinking he was with you, what does that mean in the real world? The world with pain, torture, and death?

The question made your heart race as (Y/S/N) shut the trunk and led you to the car. The two of you got in the back seat with your bags, earning more puzzled looks from the two sitting in the front.

“Don’t you want to put those in the trunk?” Dean asked, his husky voice like music to your ears.

(Y/S/N) went to reply, but you beat her to the punch, quickly shouting, “No!”

They stared at you, perplexed with your sudden action. You took a short breath, calming your nerves down before continuing, “No, they’re okay here.”

Sam nodded, clearly giving up on trying to understand your ways, and turned to face the front. However, Dean kept his eyes locked on you. They flickered down to your chest, and at first, you thought he was staring at your breast. But, once you followed his eye-line, you found he was truly staring at your necklace.

You held on to it, redirecting his eyes back to yours. Slightly raising an eyebrow at him, you questioned his actions. He exhaled sharply, turning back to the front and driving out of the garage.

What the hell was this guy’s deal?

“So,” your sister said, breaking the silence after a while. “What are we hunting?”

Sam, with his laptop opened on his lap, replied, “A Niche in Colorado.”

“Ugh.” The groan fell feely from your lips. Niches were undeniably your least favourite to hunt. They fed on their victims’ muscles, draining their lived slowly and painfully.

Sam looked back at you. “You’ve hunted them before?” he asked, looking between you and your sister.

(Y/S/N) nodded. “Yeah, they’re disgusting. It takes a lot to take them down. You a have to tear them apart piece by piece, then burn them.” she described.

Sam bobbed along as he quickly typed everything down.

“Wait,” you cut in, shaking your head. “Niche? In Colorado? How does that make sense?” They usually hide in caves on the coast. The last time we hunted a Niche, was in North Carolina.” you rationalised, questioning Sam’s deductive skills.

He shrugged, opening the web browser to the news article. You and your sister scooted closer to the front seat looking over his shoulder. Your hand brushed Dean’s shoulder and the two of you tensed up. You instantly removed your hand, avoiding his gaze in the rear-view mirror.

Tuning your attention back to the article, you skimmed it, understanding how Sam could assume it was a Niche. The victim did lose a significant percentage of their muscles; however, a Niche would never go for the guts.

“Niches don’t exactly enjoy the intestines.” you clarified, sitting back in your seat.

(Y/S/N) agreed, moving back as well. “Yeah, they rarely take any flesh or tissue.”

“So, what the hell are we hunting then?” Dean asked. Judging by the shortness of his tone, it was obvious he was growing impatient.

Your nervous eyes flickered towards him for the first time since you’ve got into the car. Gulping, you cursed yourself for giving into your urges. The more you stared into those eyes, the less control you had over your emotions.

“Guess we’ll just have to find out when we get there.” your sister replied, shrugging.

Three Hours Later – Clotho, Colorado

You entered the motel room with (Y/S/N), taking the bed closest to the door. Unzipping your duffle bag, you ruffled through it looking for your suit. The door suddenly slammed shut, making you turn to it with a steady hand on your gun. Your sister stood before it with an annoyed look.

You put down the gun, turning back to your bag. “Did you want this bed?” you asked, taking a light-hearted tone to her sternness.

She glared at you, making her way to the other bed and throwing her bag on it. “What the hell is going on?” she questioned, angrily.

You sighed, pulling at your sleeves. “With what?” you played dumb, hoping it would soften her interrogation.

It didn’t.

“(Y/N)!” she yelled, adding a little stomp with her foot. You chuckled at the action, but a deadly scowl silenced you. “You said you’d tell me later.”  

Another annoyed sigh escaped your lips as you resumed your search for your suit. “No, actually. You said I’ll tell you later.” you corrected.

She didn’t reply, staring you down with murdering daggers. She wasn’t going to let this go.

“You know I don’t like to hang around anywhere for too long.” you said, brushing her off.

She mimicked your actions, rummaging through her things as well. “Yeah, but what makes the Winchesters so special that you had to leave right away?”

You did your best not to tense up at the mention of the name again. You finally found the suit, pulling it out and starting to undress. “The place.” you blurted out, pulling on the black pencil skirt.

“The place?” she repeated with a little scoff as she found her own suit. “What about the place?”

You swallowed, buttoning up the white blouse and tucking it into your skirt. “It’s just really creepy. The hallways are way too long, and have you seen the ugly colors?” you lied, avoiding her eyes.

She stared at you for a moment, bewildered. “You wanted to leave so badly because of the halls and ugly colors?” she slowly asked in disbelief.

“Well, it all just looked so sketchy, okay?” you slightly raised your voice, throwing on the matching black jacket. “And that whole cult business didn’t sit well either.” you added as you pulled your hair back in a low bun.

Your sister, now fully dressed too, watched you carefully to pick up any signs of a lie. “Alright,” she said slowly after a few minutes. “Whatever you say.”

You knew she wasn’t fully convinced, but you ignored it anyway. The two of you exited the room, with your weapons hidden in your clothes, to find the Winchesters all ready, leaning against the car.

Your eyes fell on him in that suit, pulling you back into the memory of your dreamland. You bit your lip, forcing your eyes away as you did your best to regulate your breathing.

Son of a bitch.

“All set?” he asked, following your figure as you walked passed him and into the car.

You glanced at him with a little nod. “Yeah,” you muttered, getting into the car as your heart pounded against your chest.

He got in with his brother just as (Y/S/N) shut the door on her side. And, from a small glance at the rear-view mirror, you caught a sly smirk on his face. It was like he knew what he was doing to you… and he liked it.

(Y/S/N) looked between you and him, her eyes narrowing. “So, what’s the plan?” she asked, pulling your attention away from him.

Sam turned to face the both of you. “Well, I was thinking we should split up. Maybe two could question the victim’s family, and the other two could check out the morgue.” he suggested, with a little proud smile.

Before you could even open your mouth, your sister asked, gesturing between herself and Sam, “Why don’t we see the family?”

Sam hesitated, glancing at Dean for a split second, then answered, “Sure,”

Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets at the realization that you’d be stuck alone with the one person you wanted to get far away from. “I’d feel more comfortable if I was with my sister.” you quickly interjected.

(Y/S/N) rolled her eyes, immediately brushing you off. “Come on, (Y/N). I’m not a little kid anymore. I’ll be fine.” she reassured, giving your shoulder a little bump with hers.

You forced a smile, trying desperately to ignore the bile creeping up your throat. Your eyes, regrettably, found Dean’s through the mirror again. And, if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he looked just as anxious as you.

After a few minutes, the car stopped in front of a large house. Both Sam and (Y/S/N) got out, but before Dean could drive away, your sister spoke up. “(Y/N), why don’t you come sit in the front?” she asked, her voice laced with faked innocence.

You glared at her, realizing what she was trying to do. “No, it’s okay.” You faked a smile. “I’m fine here.”

Sam opened the passenger door, urging you to change seats. “Yeah, it will be easier.”

You looked between the two, before sighing and caving into their requests. You changed seats, sitting beside him in the front. The image of driving to the restaurant re-entered your mind. You pushed it out as the doors shut and the two of them walked over to the house.

The car jerked forward as it sped down the road, catching you off guard. Your back slammed into the seat, making you huff in surprise. You turned to him, glaring in his direction. He didn’t seem fazed, keeping his eyes locked on the road and hands tightly clutching the wheel.

You let out a little scoff as you reached behind you for the seatbelt. However, your hands grabbed only at the air. “Where’s the-” you cut yourself off, remembering his words in your alternate reality.

“Seatbelts are for bitches.” you both muttered at the same time.

His head snapped towards you for the first time since you got in the car. He sent you a look mixed with confusion and slight frustration. “How-”

“I don’t have seatbelts in my car either.” you quickly lied, cutting him off.

His green eyes, the ones you couldn’t stop thinking about, flickered from the road to you. He studied your blank expression between each take.

You remained silent. The last thing you needed was another slip up.

His hand found the radio, turning it on to fill the awkward silence. As the music leaked through the speakers, you bobbed your head along with the beat and mouthed the words.

“You listen to Led Zeppelin?” he asked, surprised.

You met his slightly impressed eyes, nodding. “I’d be an idiot if I didn’t.” you replied. “They rule.”

A small smile crept up on his lips, as he fully reverted his eyes back on the road. You watched as he tried to hide his grin while he tapped to the beat on the wheel.  

You were somewhat disappointed when you made it to the hospital, wanting to go on forever just listening to music in each other’s presence. But, you forced yourself to recall your plan. Find the monster, kill the monster, then get the fuck out of here.

So, once the car was parked, you practically jumped out, and darted to the entrance not bothering to wait for him. You walked down the halls, maneuvering between the rushed doctors and strained patients as you searched for the morgue. Truly, you had no idea where you were going, so when you saw a random arrow pointing to the right, you followed it.

A calloused, warm hand suddenly found yours, tugging you back. You froze at the connection, turning to the owner. Dean slightly pulled your hand closer to him, nodding his head to the left. “This way,” he said, noticing the contact and letting go of you hand.

You bit your lip to stop yourself from complaining about the missing warmth. Those beautiful green eyes landed on them and that sly smirk played on his lips again. He turned, and this time you followed like a lost little puppy.

“Agents Steller and…” Dean trailed off looking to you.

You pulled out your fake badge. “Montgomery,” you finished, putting the badge away.

The doctor, quite old and short, looked between the two of you and wiped her hands clean. “Dr. Grant.” she greeted, shaking your hand. “What can I do for you?”

“We’re here investigating the Terry Reynolds case.” Dean answered, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It would really help if we could take a look at the body.”

Dr. Grant nodded, wasting no time. She turned and made her way to the cold chamber, pulling out a body from the middle. “Terry Reynolds,” she stated, removing the while sheet from his face. Both, you and Dean, circled around the body. “Male, late twenties.”

You studied his cold, blue face, your eyes scanning over every little detail. His face seemed to show nothing, but the fact that he didn’t own a razor.

“Cause of death?” Dean inquired, as he too examined the body.

She smirked, chuckling, “I don’t think you can handle it.”

You and Dean shared a quick look. The amusement in his eyes made you bite back a chuckle. With smiles playing on your lips, Dean turned back to the doctor. “I think we can.” He replied, giving a little shrug.

Dr. Grant began rummaging through a file cabinet, taking out a file and handing it to Dean. “Alright,” she settled. With just a flick, the white sheet swooshed back revealing Terry’s gutless gut.

And though the file was opened in his hands, Dean didn’t even take a glance at it. He stared at the body with his mouth slightly agape.

You, on the other hand, instantly cringed at the sight. “So much for gut feeling,” you joked, looking to the doctor.

A bust of deep laughter shattered your heart. Looking up, you found Dean doubled over, laughing at your humor. A little proud smile stretched across your lips. You made him laugh, and boy did he look cute as fuck when he did.

Dr. Grant, however, took a different approach to your lighthearted joke. She stared you down, her hands on her hips. The smile on your face fell as she gave you a disapproving look. She opened her mouth to, most likely, yell at you, but was luckily cut off by a voice at the door.

“Dr. Grant?” a nurse called, poking her head into the room. “Dr. Barns needs to see you.” she informed before rushing out once again.

The doctor gave you one last glare, before exiting the room. You let out a sigh of relief, turning back to the body.

Though, you couldn’t concentrate as you felt like you were being watched. Your eyes met the culprit, a ghost of a smile hovering over his perfect lips. You shrugged, a blush creeping up your cheeks. “What?” you muttered, suddenly feeling self-cautious.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

Those green eyes didn’t detach themselves from yours. You noticed, that though he was smiling, the light in his eyes wasn’t as bright as they were in your wish. He looked happier then, much more alive too. Perhaps that was just the price of the hunt.

You reverted your attention back to the body, taking in the disgusting sight. The ripped flesh, peeled open like it was revealing its secrets, displaying the hollowed insides. But, the missing intestines weren’t the only odd things. Along his arms and chest, the skin was teared apart, more desperately than the stomach.

“Look at this,” you muttered, hovering a pointed finger over the areas.

Dean looked up from the file, asking, “Missing muscle?” He shut the folder in his hands, and places it on the table behind him.

“Yeah, his muscles are missing there, but look at the skin.” you continued as he passed you a pair of white latex gloves. You gave him a small smile as you slipped them on.

He put his on too, trying to follow along with you. “Where?”

“Here,” you gestured to his right bicep. “the skin is literally ripped.”

Dean’s gloved hand brushed yours as he moved to touch the skin. You quickly snapped your arm to your side. He quickly glanced at you before returning his attention to the body. “It looks clawed.” he concluded.

“Then look at the stomach,” you pointed at the carefully cut flesh.

His big hands examined the gut, feeling the skin between his fingers. “The muscles in the stomach could be more fragile than the ones in the arms.” he reasoned.

You nodded, your brows furrowed. “But, if this monster is just looking for food, why would it care if its mushed?”

Dean took a deep breath, shrugging. “Guess we’re gonna have to do some research.” He quickly pulled out his phone and took a few shots before Dr. Grant could return.

You recovered the body with the sheet once he was done and pulled off your gloves. “We should probably get back to (Y/S/N) and Sam.” Without waiting for a reply, you made your way to the door, throwing the gloves out.

When you got back to Reynold’s house, you returned to the back seat despite Sam’s requests. The closer you were to Dean, the worst it would be for your unsettling heart.

“So, what’d you find?” Sam asked as Dean drove back to the motel.

Before you can answer, Dean tossed his phone to his brother. “I took some pictures of the body.” he informed.

Sam swiped through the photos, his brows slightly raised. “Wow,” he muttered, handing the phone to your sister. “That thing really ripped into him.”

“That’s just gross,” (Y/S/N) mumbled, handing the phone back to Sam once she was done with the photos.

“What about you?” you asked, shifting in your seat.

Your sister shook her head. “He lived a pretty good life. A wife, three kids, steady job.” she explained.

“He wasn’t acting strange?” Dean asked, turning into the motel parking lot.

Sam shook his head. “No, he was perfectly fine.” he replied, getting out of the car.

You brewed over the new information as you followed everyone out of the car. It was clear that it wasn’t a Niche, or demon possession. And the fact that it didn’t take the heart, ruled out the chances of it being a werewolf too.  

“I feel like were missing something here.” you blurted before you could stop yourself.

The three turned to face you, confusion ridden on each other their faces. “What do you mean?” (Y/S/N) asked.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Usually there’s a pattern or something that points to one thing or place. We are literally running off assumptions that, for all we know, could be so far from the truth.”

Dean pulled his keys out of his pocket, making his way back to the car. “Alright, let’s go.” he said, pulling open the door.

You shared a questioning look with your sister. “W-what?” you stuttered, looking anywhere on his scruffy face to avoid those green eyes.

“Let’s go.” he repeated, gesturing to the passenger’s seat. “You need a pattern, so we’re going to find one.” Dean turned to Sam, tossing him his phone. “Try to find something that can explain those. We’ll be back with some food,” he turned back to you with a small smile. “and hopefully a pattern.”

With that, he got into the car. Sam already had his nose in Dean’s phone, analyzing the pictures, and (Y/S/N) followed him, typing furiously on her phone. You tried to silently get her attention, but she had quickly disappeared into the room, unfazed.

The car window suddenly rolled down, redirecting your attention. “Getting in, or what?” he asked, leaning against the steering wheel to catch a glimpse of your face.

You opened the door and got in, speechless. Was he seriously about to drive you somewhere just to get you some answers? Even the thought of that was ridiculous. Obviously, he’s doing this for the case.

Or maybe he feels the same way about you. A small voice suggested, twirling the anxiety in your heart.

Holy shit, you were delusional. This is for a fucking case. Don’t forget your plan. Find monster, kill monster, get the fuck out of here.

“Where are we going?” you mumbled, turning to him, careful not to look too long.

He glanced your way, forcing you to repress all the thoughts that would indicate anything but a professional relationship. “Police station.” he answered, turning back to the road. “I figured if there are any other cases like this, the police would know about them.”

You nodded, turning back to the windshield. “Good idea.”

“I thought so.” he smirked. “So, what do you think is missing?”

You shrugged, ignoring the flutter of your heartbeat. “I’m not entirely sure,” you admitted, chewing on your bottom lips as you sorted through your thoughts. “I guess just some sort of pattern, or something that can help us track down what we’re hunting.”

You turned to face him, to find he was rapidly looking between you and the road. He’d scan your features in the few seconds he had before turning back to the road to avoid a collision. His throat bobbed once he noticed you caught him, and he instantly nodded at your words. “Yeah,” he muttered, locking his eyes on the road.

You watched him carefully before turning back to your window, watching the trees, like an endless sea of lush green, pass by.

“The djinn,” he started, making your shoulders tense and the air catch in your throat. Your heart pounded against your ribcage as he continued. “caught me too, once.” He confessed.

You gulped. He knows. Panic of the worst kind pumped through your veins as you tried to regulate your breathing. “W-what?” you stuttered, not daring to turn and face him.

“It was a few years ago.” He went on, clearly oblivious to your panicked tone. And if, by the off chance, he did notice, he didn’t mention it.

Curiosity tugged at you from one side as fear pulled you from another. Relax. You ordered your heart. Nothing is certain. He’s just making conversation. “What happened?” you asked once you finished schooling your emotions.

He hesitated. Curiosity has won, tempting you to turn and face him. He glanced at you, muttering, “My mom was alive.” A sad smile surfaced as he recalled the memory. “And Sammy was at Stanford and his girlfriend was still alive too. And I just remember thinking it was all so perfect.”

“It was like that for me too.” You muttered, thinking back to your father, and a happy (Y/S/N).

He nodded, sparing you another glance. “Yeah, but then things like my dad being dead and-”

He cut himself off, nervously glancing at you. Your brows drew together, confusion and suspicion taking over your thoughts. And you couldn’t help but wonder, were you in his wildest dreams as well?

Nonetheless, you dismissed his abrupt pause. “I’m sorry about your parents. I know what it’s like and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.” You mumbled, absentminded placing your hand over his.

Those green eyes watched you with an unnatural alarming gaze as they flickered between your hand and, very rarely, the road. Your awareness kicked in and you snatched your hand from his.

“Except, Lucifer, of course.” You quickly joked, hoping he’d ignore your previous action.

You idiot. You mentally scowled.

And to your rare good fortunate, the car pulled into the parking lot as Dean let out chuckle that warmed your heart. You did your best not to blush as you got out of the car.

As you made your way inside, Dean turned to you with a little smirk. “Let’s keep the cute jokes to a minimum.” He suggested, opening the door for you.

You blushed at his comment, mulling over the little word he added between the and jokes. Did he just imply that he found you cute? But, your mind wouldn’t let you look too closely for it pulled you back to your memories in your false reality. For a split second, you felt like you were walking into the restaurant ready to see your family at a table patiently waiting for you and your husband.

However, the illusion shattered as quickly as it came and you felt a hand on the small of your back gently guide you to the front desk.

Dean looked down at you, whispering, “You okay?”

You looked up, once again star-struck by his award-winning features. Your eyes flickered to his lips before nodding. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You breathed, slightly running into the front desk.

You didn’t want to admit it, but the longer you spent time with him, the more you let yourself want him. That realization alone, was enough for you to pick up your pace, making his hand fall from your back.

Your eyes snapped to the receptionist, who was already glaring at you. You gave her a little smile before Dean redirected her attention.

“I’m Agent Steller,” he gave her one of his famous smirks, locking her attention. “This is my partner, Agent Montgomery.”

The red head didn’t so much as glance at you. And why would she when she was talking with someone as beautiful as him, giving her his undivided attention. An unfamiliar irritation tugged at your emotions, making you cross your arms over your chest.

“How can I help you?” she asked, batting her eyelashes and biting her lower lip. He didn’t even need to show his badge.

You rolled your eyes, sighing. Dean glanced at you with a knowing smirk before turning back to the red head. “We were just wondering if we could look at cases similar to the Terry Reynolds one?” he asked in that husky, cool tone.

He was flirting with her, and she was loving it. And you were… hating it? Were you jealous? Of course not. Your mind screamed.

Yes, you are! Your heart replied. And the more you deny it, the worst you feel.

“(Y/N),” Dean called, his hand falling to your back. “You coming?”

You nodded, forcing yourself not to get lost in those eyes and followed him to the back. The receptionist took out the similar files and handed them to Dean, ignoring your presence.

“Do you need anything else?” she asked, dragging a hand down his bicep.

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but your voice came out. Your words were out of your hands, working faster than your mind. “No, thanks.” Your tone silenced her, and her hand was quickly returned to her side.

Dean gave her one last smile before turning and placing the flies on an empty work table a few ways away.

You went to follow, but the receptionist held you back. “Sorry,” she muttered lowly. “I didn’t know.”

You furrowed your brows. “What?”

“I didn’t know he was your boyfriend.” She shrugged, and exited the room without another word.

Boyfriend? You wanted to rush after her and correct her very false statement, but Dean called you back. “Take a look at this.” He said, handing you a file.

You sighed, accepting the file. Opening it, you quickly skimmed it. The woman was must older, in her late thirties, and had the same injuries.

You moved closer to Dean, watching as he took out each file and opened it before laying it on the table. After all five flies were out and opened, you set yours down as well. “So, other than the injuries, what else is the same?” he asked, hands on his hips.

You forcibly tore your eyes away from his built frame and looked over each file. All different ages, races, features. You took out your phone and quickly took pictures of each file.

“No clue, huh?” he asked, smirking.

You glanced up at him as you took your last photo. “Guess we’re gonna have to do some research.” You replied.

His smirk widened into a full out smile at your – or rather – his words. “I guess we do.”

Four hours. The four of you have been studying and reviewing the six files for the last four hours surrounded by wrappers and the greasy stench of fast food.

“If I stare at these fucking files for another minute, I swear I will murder someone.” Your sister declared from her place on the couch beside Sam.

Sam nervously glance at her, picking up his lap and scotching away to the other side of the couch. You let out a little chuckle, looking at the fourth file for the hundredth time. Still, everything revealed to be different. Even the address.

Wait. You thought, getting out of your laid position on the bed. You grabbed the laptop from Sam.

“Hey-” he started, but cut himself off as you walked back to the bed and sat on the edge.

Dean got up from his seat by the desk and sat beside you. You opened six tabs and search an address from each file in each tab.

“Construction sites.” Dean concluded as he watched over your shoulder.

Your sister and Sam shot up from their seat and rushed towards you. “Finally,” your sister exclaimed.

“How many sites are in this town?” Sam asked.

You opened another tab and quickly searched it. “Seven,” you answered. “And whatever this is already hit six of them.”

Your sister looked to Sam, asking, “Did you happen to find out what it was?”

Sam solemnly shook his head. “I don’t even have a lead.” He admitted, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Dean stood up, slightly brushing his arm against yours. “Looks like we’re gonna have to be ready for anything.” He turned to face you with a little smile. “I know you like using your own weapons, but you might have to use ours too.”

You gave him a confused look before looking at your sister’s alarmed face. Her earlier excuse came rushing back to you, and you dropped your perplexed expression immediately. “Oh, yeah.” You nodded. “We do like using our own weapons. I’m surprised you remembered.”

Dean smirked, his eyes glancing over your frame. “I remember everything.” He muttered, before his brother dragged his eyes away.

“Well, we better go change.” He said, leading Dean towards the door. “We’ll meet you outside by the car.”

Once the door shut, you dashed to your sister. “It happened to him too.” You spat out as she ruffled through her bag.

She gave you a confused look. “What?”

“He’s been under the djinn too.” You clarified, as you turned and began pacing. “I think he saw what I saw, with his own variations, of course, but the gist is the same.”

Your sister stood before you and held your shoulders tightly, keeping you in place. “Okay, you’re not making any sense.” She spoke in a calm, cooled tone. “Explain what happened when you were with the djinn, then we’ll talk about Dean.” She ordered before grabbing your bag and shoving it to your chest. “And get changed while you do it.”

So, you did. You changed out of your cooperate suit and into your plain jeans and t shirt as you explained all that happened. You confessed all your interactions with your father, Dean, her, and her boyfriend. You watched as her face fell at the mention of her passed boyfriend and grow into a sad smile at your father. You told her about the tattoos and how he told you he’d been under the djinn as well. You laid everything on the table, unable to bottle it up much further.

“And I think I was his wife in his world too.” You finished, as you pulled on your combat boots.

Your sister stared at you, already dressed and ready to go, as she looked over the weapons. “Well, he does like you.” She concluded. “That’s for sure.”

You blushed at her words, but pushed passed them as she missed to catch the one of your main fears. “But, (Y/S/N/N), I knew what he looked like, and what his car looked like. I knew who he was and I’ve never even seen him before.” You replied, finishing from your boots and pulling on your black leather jacket. “How would I have known that? And, if he saw me in his world, how would he have known that?”

(Y/S/N) stayed quiet for a while. She handed you a gun as she mulled over your words. “I really don’t know what to tell you, (Y/N).” she muttered. “Maybe if you asked him about it-”

“No.” you quickly cut her off. “I can’t ask him if he’d seen me in his djinn dream thing as his wife. It will just bring up some really awkward tension in the car.” You stood up, searching for your gun. “Also… he’s really pretty and if I look at him longer than I have to I think I’ll cry.” You admitted, much to your disapproving mind.

Your sister tossed you a gun, ending your search. She chuckled at your words, shaking her head. “You’re so fucking dramatic.”

You caught the gun, rolling your eyes. “Whatever,” you muttered, leading your sister out of the room, making sure to grab your phone on the way out.

Instead of finding the boys leaning against the car, you found them behind the impala with the trunk open. They spoke in hushed tones, Dean’s raspy voice cutting in and silencing his brother’s.

“Sam, I swear, if you don’t drop this, I will throw you at whatever the hell we’re hunting.” He threatened, snapping the shotgun shut.

Sam watched him wearily, truly wondering if his brother would actually give him up. He must’ve been convinced he would, for he exhaled deeply through his nose, and remained quiet. You shared a weary look with your sister before revealing your presence.

“Ready?” you asked, looking between each brother. Your eyes lingered on Dean, trailing his frame. He must’ve loved flannel shirts because, despite the fancy suit, they were all he wore.

You met his enchanting eyes once again, helplessness crashing into you. The more you stared into them, the more you wanted to tell him the truth.

Don’t be insane. Your mind warned. Remember, find monster, kill monster, get the fuck out of here.

You gulped, dragging your eyes from his and to the trunk. It had a false bottom, you realized, as it was propped open with a shotgun. A bundle of about five combat knives, wrapped with a thin strip of brown leather, caught the corner of your eye. You reached over and pick it up. Looking up to Sam, avoiding Dean’s gaze, you asked, “May I?”

Sam nodded. “Take anything you want.”

You gave him a closed lipped smile, quickly giving both brothers your back. Your sister swooped in behind you, and began rummaging through the trunk. You searched for the opening, twirling the knives around in your hands.

“It’s tucked in here.” His raspy voice advised. He stepped around you, making himself known. He reached over, and flipped over the knives before pulling out a loose end of the strap.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, only to shoot your eyes to the floor. “Thanks,” you quickly muttered, walking away as you unrolled the knives. You shoved one in each boot, one on either side of your belt, an one stayed steady in your hand, ready to strike as if the monster was coming at you right now.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked.

You looked up to find him standing in front of you. You redirected your eyes to the knife in your hands, pretending to find the sleek blade interesting. “I’m fine,” you shrugged before turning to the car. “We should probably get going, or we’ll have another body on our hands.”

He silently watched you, those damned green eyes grazing over your features. It was as if he was wondering how true your answers proved to be. You stared back, suddenly frozen under his strong gaze. If he stared at you any longer, you were sure you were going to weaver your plan, and crash right into him.

His throat bobbed, followed by his head, as he threw your distance demeanor right back at you and circle around the car to the driver’s seat.

And though you wished – no prayed that it wasn’t true, you felt your heart ever so slightly shatter. And you had no one to blame but yourself.


He had said too much before; that much was true. Perhaps he shouldn’t have said anything at all, but he did. And, now, it was like she was an ocean away. But, if this was just a reaction of his previous words, then that must’ve meant that she saw something under the djinn’s magic too. Something they both probably don’t want to believe, but may be as clear as day.

Yet, the woman he had seen in his alternate reality was slightly different. Still as beautiful as ever, but the woman he’d seen was much less… dark. She was so full of life and possibilities. The woman, in this life – the real one, was much less enthusiastic about life. And how could she think otherwise when she lived the life of a hunter. He knew, first hand, how destroying hunting is to one’s spirit, much less, their life.  

Still, he wished she would just come out and tell him. Tell him what she saw, who she saw, if she had the same inked mark on her collarbone as he did. Maybe, it might even get Sam off his back if he knew what she experienced.

“You missed the turn.” Sam informed, pointing his thumb behind him.

Pulled out of his thoughts, Dean glanced at the rear-view mirror. He found the turn, but only after meeting those (Y/E/C) eyes. He dragged himself away from them, slowing the car down to make a swift U-turn.

“Sorry,” he muttered, pointing the car in the right direction. His eyes, much to his dismay, drifted to the mirror again, finding her. She was looking out the window, brows furrowed and her bottom lip between her teeth. And, watching her, he couldn’t help but think about what he’d do to get that lip between his teeth instead.

“You missed it again,” Sam said, letting out a frustrated sigh. He glared at his brother, asking, “What’s up with you today?”

Dean spared him a sidelong glance, turning the car around and making sure his eyes stay focused on the road.

They weren’t. And so, he missed the turn again.

After many failed turns, he finally parked the impala near the construction site. Everyone hopped out of the car, weapons at the ready, as Sam passed out flashlights.

“Alright, I think-” (Y/S/N) started, but (Y/N) quickly cut her off.

“Look, we don’t know what we’re hunting. It’ll be better if we stick together and try to kill this thing as a team.” She explained. Dean couldn’t help but notice she was looking at everyone, but him.

He’s face adapted to a harsh, stone cold expression as his heart fluttered then, ever so slightly shattered.

“Dean,” Sam called, nudging his brothers elbow. The two sisters were already heading inside. “Stop staring, and come on.”

Dean glared at his brother. “I’m not staring.” He grumbled, following the two girls in.

Sam merely rolled his eyes, clearly tired of trying to convince his brother of talking to the girl who happened to also be his wife.

The building was, naturally, unfinished. The metal beams, hosting up the building, were scattered around the grand floor, while the stairs remained stairless. Wires were twitching, and pipes were dripping as the four hunters walked through the dark building. Dean instantly saw why the creature brought its victims here. It was abandoned, dark, and creepy. Just the way these monsters liked it.

An ugly screech sounded like an alarm, making Dean, Sam and (Y/S/N) point their guns in the direction it came from, while (Y/N) got in her fighting stance, keeping her knees bent and knife at the ready.

Scratching and hasty scurrying caught their attention, turning them all around. “There!” Sam yelled, shooting his gun through a corridor. His bullets missed, making him grunt. “I’m going after it.” He informed, not waiting for a reply and rushing after the creature.

“Sam,” Dean called after him, his brotherly instinct kicking in. He moved to follow, but hand caught his forearm, pulling him back.

“Watch out,” she warned, skillfully throwing her knife at a wooden beam, only just missing the black clothed creature.

Dean turned to her with wide eyes. But… A small voice, that always steers him to loneliness, wondered. I thought she didn’t care. “Thanks,” he managed to breathe, watching her in awe. She nodded, watching him just as charily.

The sudden sound of gun shots drew them out of their minds, both turning to face (Y/S/N). “I got it!” she exclaimed, running down the hallway and turning the corner.

Dean and (Y/N) went to follow, but a hackling cough turned their attention to the left. Their eyes landed on the black, musky figure, watching them. It then occurred to Dean that the figure wasn’t coughing, but laughing.

At the sudden realization, Dean’s calloused hand absentmindedly found the small of (Y/N)’s back. And, to his surprise, she slightly leaned into his touch, inching closer towards him.

Then, right before his eyes, a knife went flying to the creature. To further complicate things, the twirling knife stopped. In midair, the knife froze just inches away from the creature. Dean was sure it would come flying back, only making him pull (Y/N) closer they were shoulder to shoulder. And again, she didn’t object.

But, instead, the knife fell with an echoing clatter. “I see my threads are already starting to tie,” it hissed, hovering closer towards them.

Dean turned to (Y/N); both shared the same confused look. “What?” she asked, already pulling out another knife from her belt.

The creature tilted its head, examining the two hunters. In a blink, it was a foot away. It’s face was concealed by a droopy hood, but a red glow shined though it. Dean took a step back, pulling (Y/N) with him. She moved half an inch, not wanting to back down just yet. His eyes trailed down the floating figure, landing on long, black talons. They were big enough to tear his guts out.

“What you’ve seen,” it hissed, drawing closer. “will come to pass.”

Enough of this. The voice scoffed. Dean cocked his gun, pointing to the creature. “What the hell are you?” he questioned, his frustration and anger clear on his face.

“I believe your kind would call me a Krismet.” It answered, it’s red eyes, carefully watching the gun.

“What do you mean, what we saw will come to pass?” (Y/N) asked, drawing a bit closer to the foggy figure.

Dean, worry engulfing his better sense, drew nearer as well, reluctantly lowering his gun for the time being.  

The hackling returned instantly. “Why must you humans need everything spelled out?” it asked no one in particular. The two hunters exchanged glances, cautiously waiting for the Krismet to explain. “Your illusions are a mirror to your existing world. You-”

Dean cut it off, lifting his gun once again. “You have ten seconds to tell us what you want.”

However, the Krismet ignored him, keeping its blood-shot eyes on (Y/N). She watched it carefully, the knife steady in her hand.

The Krismet opened its gauzy, grey mouth, ready to speak in more half sentences, then instantly burst to flames.

Dean’s eyes widen, his hand dropping the gun, and wrapping around (Y/N)’s waist instead. He pulled her back, pressing her closer to his frame. She leaned into him, bracing herself against him as it screeched loudly, the sound high enough to rattle their teeth.

Then suddenly, it stopped. They relaxed into one another, looking over to where it once stood. Sam and (Y/S/N) stood, both holding flamethrowers, before a pile of charcoal looking ash. Sam gave Dean a knowing smile, biting his lip to hold back his laughter. Their intimate position finally registered in both hunters as they quickly pulled away from one another.

(Y/N) cleared her throat, curling a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “How did you-”

“We heard it say it was a Krismet. So, while you two distracted it, we googled it.” Her sister explained. “Plus, I always wanted to use one of these.” She laughed, waving the flamethrower.

(Y/N) forced a chuckle along with her, returning her knife back into her belt. “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m so fucking tired.” She muttered, making her way to her sister. They both turned around, (Y/N) pausing to pick up her fallen knife, and made their way to the car.

Dean couldn’t help but let his eyes linger down her frame and stay there, watching as she walked away.

“I knew it.” Sam scoffed, forcing Dean to drag his eyes away from her shrinking figure.

Dean gave his brother a once over, carefully watching the weapon in his hand. “Better put that down before you hurt yourself.” He mumbled, following the girls to the car.

Sam let out a little chuckle. “I don’t think you can deny it anymore, Dean. The Krismet said-”

“It was a trick.” Dean cut in, angrily. “It was messing with our heads.”

His brother shook his head. “No, Dean. Do you even know what a Krismet is?” Dean glared at him. He’d just seen one. Of course, he knew what it was. “It’s a servant for the gods of fate. It feasts on muscle and harvest it’s victim’s guts to give to the gods.”

Dean’s face twisted in disgust. “Charming.” He grumbled, the car coming to view.

“It also matches human threads.” Sam continued. “Which means-”

“Look, Sammy,” he cut in, stopping in his tracks to face his brother. “Me and her? It’s not gonna happen. The last thing I need is another Lisa situation on my hands.”

Sam glanced at the girls leaning on the car as he scoffed. “She’s not Lisa, Dean. She’s a hunter. She’s seen what we’ve seen, maybe even more by the way she and her sister seem to carry themselves.”

Dean’s eyes drifted towards her, his jaw tight. “What if-”

“You know what I’d do to find someone that matched my threads?” Sam asked. “I wouldn’t waste my time on ‘what ifs’ because after all the crap we’ve been through, I’d like to have someone to show me that it’s not always like that.”

For the first time, Dean didn’t have anything to say. He wanted her, there was no denying that. And maybe he was being stupid, and taking her for granted, but he couldn’t handle losing her. Because, no matter the circumstances, everyone who has ever come near him, including his brother, has died.

“Sam,” he mumbled, looking his brother in the eye. Sam nodded as his eyes reflected his hope. “For the last time, drop it.” He ordered.

He turned away from his brother, and the idea that maybe he could be with this girl, for no amount of love would be worth losing her. So, as he schooled his features, Dean eliminated her from his thoughts, his heart, and forcibly, from his soul.


The next day

Though you cited and recited what the Krismet said over and over again, you knew it didn’t matter. From the moment, he turned away from his brother last night to the way he ignored your general presence, you knew he had made up his mind.

Yet, still, you blinked back a few stranded emotions as you stared up at the ceiling, aimlessly watching the fan spin. You couldn’t help but feel foolish. You knew he was different here, he wasn’t the same Dean you dreamt. This Dean had seen death, possibly been dead, and still managed to get up and walk it off. That had consequences, it must, for it took his spirit and a shard of his life each time. And you knew it all too well, for you too had seen death, been dead, and felt the life drop out of you as you picked yourself up.

Though, none of it mattered. Your mind could lecture your heart all it wanted, it would never listen, never want to. You just had to understand that it was what it was. He didn’t want you, and you couldn’t make him.

A quiet knock came to the door, before it was slowly opened, and your hand drifted to the gun hidden under your pillow. Your sister’s head peaked through, making you relax, removing your hand from the gun, and sit up.

She gave you a small smile, drawing further into the room. “You’re still in bed?” she asked, using the soft voice she usually used to sooth victims.

She was pitying you, and that annoyed the shit out of you. “Yeah,” you grumbled, as you pushed yourself off the bed. “I’ll get dressed and meet you in the garage.”

She opened her mouth, to probably baby you some more, but thought against it. With a nod, she turned around and exited the room, shutting the door behind her.

Sighing and wiping the sleep from your tired eyes, you pick up your bag and began changing into your black jeans and grey t-shirt. You pushed every thought of Dean from your mind in the process. That was it. It was done. There was no use trying to overthink it. You found the monster, killed it, and now it was time to get the fuck out of here.

After getting fully dressed, you zipped up your bag, throwing it over your shoulder and grabbed your leather jacket as you exited the room.

The hallway was longer than ever, and you instantly forgot the way to the garage. This place is a fucking maze. You thought looking up and down the hallway.

Finally deciding you couldn’t just stand there like a lost idiot, you random turned right and walked down the corridor hoping it would take you to where you needed to be. However, it seemed to go on forever, and you couldn’t turn back now since you had no idea which room you stayed in.

You stopped and looked around. There has to be-

A hard frame ran into you, knocking off your balance. But, just before you hit the ground, a hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you up right. Your eyes snapped up to the owner, and you froze. You had hoped to avoid him, but there he was.

His green eyes showed the slightest indication of surprise, before they resumed their cold expression. He quickly dropped your wrist, taking a step back. The sudden change in demeanor snapped your eyes away from him. You scoffed, turning to walk away from him.

“Wait,” His hand found its way to your wrist again, pulling you back. You turned to face him, cursing yourself for looking into those eyes again. Still, they showed no emotion. “The garage it that way.” He said, nodding his head to the other side.

You gently pulled your wrist out of his grip, and turned the other way, no bothering to mutter some thanks. As you walked down the hallway, towards the garage this time, you heard the echo of heavy boots behind you.

Is he following me? You wondered, as you slowed your pace. His slowed down also, confirming your thoughts.

You turned swiftly around, catching him off guard. He stopped a few feet away from you, finally displaying some emotion. “What?” you asked, sounding harsher than you meant to.

He stared at you, mouth agape and completely frozen. You raised a brow, impatiently waiting for him to answer. He cleared his throat, his sense finally coming back to him. “Um, I’m just making sure you don’t get lost again.” He confessed, shoving his large hands into his pockets.

You furrowed your brows at him. He was seriously hard to keep up with. One minute he’s laughing with you, the next he’s ignoring you, then the next he’s concerned about you, making sure you get where you needed to be. You let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head. “Make up your fucking mind.” You said, without thinking.

He stared at you, confused. “What-”

You cut him off, speaking freely now and ignoring your mind as it yelled at you to shut up and walk away. “One minute you’re nice to me and the next you’re ignoring me. Just tell me what you want or leave me alone.” Your desperate state began to seep through, causing you to flush with embarrassment.

He sighed, drifting his gaze down to the floor. You waited a moment for him to say something, anything. When he didn’t, you scoffed, turning around to continue on your path to your sister.

“I saw you.” He blurted, forcing you to freeze in your tracks. “Three years ago; when the djinn caught me.”

You turned around to face him once more, your heart beating abnormally fast. “What?” you breathed, your eyes glassing over.

“I saw you, and you were…” he trailed off, as he took a step closer. “My wife.”

Your breath hitched as bile coated your throat. You couldn’t find words to speak. When he saw your dazed state, he sighed and turned away, shaking his head.

“Where are you going?” you called, your feet, finally, moving after him. “You can’t just dump that on me and walk away, Dean.”

He turned to you. “You’re asking me what I want from you, but I want to know is what you want from me.” He demanded, slightly raising his voice as he walked closer to you.

“I-” you stuttered, losing your words once again. What did you want from him? “I… don’t know.” You whispered, shaking your head. “Clarity?”

He furrowed his brows, that handsome face scrunching up. “Clarity?” He echoed. “Over what?”

“What we saw.” You blurted. “I knew what your car looked like, what you looked like. I knew how you talked, and moved. How would I have known that? How would you have known me? We’ve never met, Dean. Doesn’t that scare you?”

“It was an illusion.” He replied, brushing off your question, as he stepped closer.

“Then, why did you tell me about it? Why do you think it’s your responsibility to make sure I get somewhere safe?” you asked, your voice raising to match his as you too drew nearer.

“I don’t.” he yelled, now a few inches away.

You drily chuckled, “Then why did you follow me?” The two of you were so close, you had to look up to meet his gaze.

He stared down at you, your bodies about an inch apart. He opened his mouth to retort, but shut it, stumped. Then, out of nowhere, he let out a frustrated groan, his hands grabbing your waist, pressing you against him as his lips crashed against yours.

You dropped your things, your hands instantly on his shoulders, kissing him back. They ran through his short hair, as his pressed you further against him. All anger, fear, and worry washed away as he rained down on you, engulfing you in every way possible.

He pulled away all too soon, leaving you breathless. Your hands trailed down his shoulders to his chest where they stayed. He rested his head against yours, keeping his hold on you.

“Stay.” He breathed, meeting your eyes. “Please,”

You blinked back tears, almost relieved by his words. “Okay,” you muttered, finally feeling a strange sensation bleed into that void in your heart as his eyes bore into yours and his lips curled into a sweet smile. You, then, realized that strange feeling was peace. And, that void in your heart was almost as distance as your fears. Because you finally found it, or rather, him.

Dean Winchester.

Lullaby - The Call

Okay, so. @queseraone and @letitrainletitsnowbutdontletmego asked for this. So I wrote it. Here is “the incident”. So you might need tissues. Shout out to them for wanting this and a huge shout out to @halsteadpd for being super patient and supportive and giving me a ton of ideas for Millie Halstead. 

Everyone else who reviewed this, reblogged it, liked it? You also rock, because it makes me happy and happy me means more stories for you!

Chapter one, two and three for those who wanna read it, but ya don’t have to! 

The Call

The second that Detective Jay Halstead couldn’t fasten the Kevlar vest securely on his partner, was the second that Detective Erin Lindsey assigned herself to desk duty. She may have only been six months pregnant, but she and Jay had agreed when she returned to Intelligence that if she couldn’t safely go on raids with them, she wouldn’t. At first, she’d argued, but when Jay had pointed out that she couldn’t just think about herself know, that he couldn’t just worry about her that she’d realised that she had to act, and that action was taking her vest off and pulling herself out of the raid.

With a plea for Jay to stay safe, a reassurance from Al that he would be safe and Jay bending to place a kiss on her growing bump sneakily when everyone else had gotten into their cars, earing himself with a head rub and a laugh as he walked away from her.

Which is something that became tradition.

July was always a month that had some kind of drama. The heat, the celebrations, the fireworks and alcohol; usually brought out the worst in people. Which was why, on July 2nd, Erin found herself standing in the garage that Intelligence used  while the rest of the unit readied themselves to go out on a raid.

“You guys are gonna call in SWAT, right?” Erin asked as she watched them gear up; meticulously checking their bullets and guns, then checking each other’s, then checking their own again. Three days from her due date, she really shouldn’t have been there, she should have taken her maternity leave by now; but she had argued the point that all she was doing was answering phones and doing paper work, so what was the issue?

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You Said You Loved Me | Tate Langdon

Originally posted by sociallyawkwardcapricorn

paring: Reader x Tate

warnings: possible trigger warning, angst, some fluff

requested: by @xxstardustlarryxx

I ran up the stairs to my room, tears clouding my vision. I took the stairs two at a time until I finally made it to my room. I threw myself on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. My hands were shaking, so I laid them down on my stomach to try and settle them. I tried to calm my breathing but it wasn’t working too well. My throat felt so strained from holding back the tears.

I closed my eyes and just pictured myself anywhere but here. How easy would it be to just pack up and leave this place? I hate school. I hate that stupid bitch Jenna. I just wanna run away somewhere and never have to hear her again. A sudden wave of motivation running through me, I sprang up off my bed and pushed my closet open. I grabbed a duffel bag and threw it on the bed.

I began to toss clothes on the bed until I felt like I had enough. I stomped to the bed and began to fold the clothes. I took a deep breath and stopped and stared at what I was doing.

“Where you going?” A voice asked, making me jump and turn around to see Tate in my bean bag chair. I placed a hand over my heart and closed my eyes.

“Jesus, don’t scare me like that!” I said, sighing and sitting down on the bed.

He got up and walked over in front of me. “Sorry, but you’re scaring the hell out of me.”

“Why?” I said, furrowing my eyebrows.

“Because it looks like your leaving.” He said, glancing over to the bag of clothes.

“Oh, that…” I mumbled.

“Yeah. That.” He said, gesturing to it. “Are you okay, Y/N? You’ve been crying.”

Instictively, I wiped my face with my sleeve. “What? No, I haven’t.”

He gave me a knowing look and sat down next to me on the bed away from the duffel bag. “What happened?” He said, placing his hand on my knee and looking up to me with his big puppy dog eyes.

“Jenna…” I said, looking down at my lap and playing with my hands.

I felt Tate tense up. “What did she say?”

“It’s really not important, Ta-”

“It made you cry. It’s important.” He stated, sternly.

I gulped, closing my eyes, thinking about everything she said. I took a deep breath. “I was just minding my own business in the commons. I was looking at my phone. Jenna comes up and takes my phone from me. I tell her to give it back and she just laughs and says, ‘You can’t have any friends. Why do you need it?’ and I tried to snatch it back, but I couldn’t get it. It was already unlocked so she started going through it. I had written some things down in my notes.. some really personal stuff. She starts reading it out loud and there were tons of people there. Everyone just starts laughing and she’s just taunting me the whole time.” I said.

Tate grits his teeth and takes a deep sigh. “That fucking bitch. If I ever got a hold of her I would-”

“Tay, stop. It doesn’t matter.” I said, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze.

His features softened at the nickname you had for him, but he still looked furious. “So, what? You’re just going to leave?”

I looked back down to the bag and bit my lip. “Why wouldn’t I? What’s stopping me, huh?”

“What about the people that you care about here?”

“My parents wouldn’t miss me anyways.” I said, zipping the duffle bag up.

“I meant me.” He said.

I looked up from the bag, but not at him. I was too afraid I would be sucked in by those puppy dog eyes.

“Tay…” I started.

“You said you loved me. Isn’t that reason enough to stay?” He said, and I could hear him choking up.

I closed my eyes and thought about the night we kissed. The words flew out of my lips before I could even realize they had. Tate had grabbed my face and kissed me and I’d never felt anything like it.

We hadn’t spoken of it since. I was scared. Hell, I was terrified. Tate is stuck in this house forever. He is a ghost. How can I let myself go down that road? That’s just begging to get myself hurt. What if we move? What happens then?

I felt the tears well up in my eyes. “Tay, you’re my best friend.”

He shook his head and the tears fell down his face. All I wanted to do was run into his arms and say that I loved him and I want to be with him forever. But I didn’t.

“Y/N, don’t give me that bullshit. You can’t deny that you feel something for me. I see it all over your face.” He said, coming over to me and grabbing my face in his hands. I closed my eyes, refusing to look at him. “Y/N, look at me.” He whispered and I just shook my head.

The next thing I know, he’s kissing me. My eyes shoot open, but I just can’t make myself pull away. My eyes flutter shut and I begin to kiss him back. My hands fly to his hair and pull him as close to me as possible. Gosh, he just feels so real.

I pull away. “Tate, I can’t do this.”

“Why not?” He presses.

“Because you’re a ghost!” I said, frustrated.

He just stared at me and dropped his hands and backed away from me. “You think this is something I want? You think I chose this?” He yelled.

“Of course not! But what happens if I have to move? I can’t stay in this house forever!”

“Why not?” He yelled.

I just looked at him. I thought about the way he looked at me. I thought about the way he kissed me. I thought about how he looked scared as hell that I would walk out any minute. I loved him. What would I even do without him?

Without really thinking about how it could ever work, I grabbed him by his collar and kissed him again. His hands grabbed my waist and pulled me to him with a need I’ve never felt from another person. It’s like we couldn’t get close enough. I finally pulled away and looked up to him. “I love you, Tate. I’m not going anywhere.” I said, and wrapped my arms around him, placing my head in his neck.

anonymous asked:

15 or 9 with josh please

9. “Don’t ask me that.”

It has been a full three weeks since Josh had gotten back from tour, and in that three weeks, you had seen him probably a total of five times. This wouldn’t be an issue, if you guys didn’t live together. At first you were trying to be understanding. He was working on a new album, and had a lot of stuff he needed to get done, and was honouring a lot of commitments he had made. But when he started ignoring your text messages and sending your calls to voicemail, you began to feel like something was up.

It’s Friday night, around 9pm when he comes through the front door of the apartment. You’re sitting on the couch, tv playing in the background as you look through a Chinese takeout menu.

“Hey,” He calls flatly, walking past you and into your bedroom.

“Hey!” You reply, jumping off the couch and following him. “I was thinking we could order take out tonight?” You ask, waving the menu in front of you, eyes hopeful that maybe you guys could finally spend some time together.

But Josh isn’t even looking at you, he’s too busy rummaging through the drawers of your shared dresser, picking certain items up and throwing them into a duffle bag on the bed. “Oh, I’m actually flying to Ohio tonight. Gonna spend some time with my parents.” He doesn’t even look at you, and you feel your heart shatter in your chest.

“Oh.” You’re hoping he can hear the disappointment in your voice, and maybe he’ll say something. But he doesn’t. And you just stand in the doorway.

You’re not sure how much time has past, but you can’t stand the silence anymore. “What’s going on, Josh?” You ask and he freezes, eyes down. “You won’t talk to me, you ignore my calls, my texts. I’ve seen you maybe five times since you’ve been home. And we live together.”

“I just need some space.” His voice is hard, and you feel like you’ve been punched in the gut.

“I don’t know what the means,” You reply, as calmly as you can. “Where did this come from? Was it something I did?” You’re asking a million questions, anxiety over riding your brain.

Josh closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “I don’t know, okay!” He snaps. “I just need space!”

“Well does that mean you’re breaking up with me?!” Your voice is shaking and your can’t really see anything from the tears watering in your eyes.

“I don’t know! Don’t ask me that!” Josh yells, and that shuts you up. Josh has never yelled at you, and it takes you by surprise so much that you can help but start crying. You hug yourself, looking down as tears drip from your face onto the carpet below. Josh was the love of your life, you hadn’t even considered the fact that you might not be his, and you really didn’t know what you’d do if you weren’t.

Josh sighs and you can hear him zip the duffle bag close. “Y/N…” he says your name softly now, but you refuse to look up at him. You can hear him walking closer to you, and his hands cup your face, bringing it up so he can look at you. His eyes are sad, but you’re not sure why. “I’m sorry,” He tells you. “I know I’ve been distant, and I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to sort through everything in my head, and I just need some time away, some space.” He explains.

“Josh,” You whimper, looking up at the beautiful boy. “I’m scared. I don’t understand where this is coming from. I - I just, I can’t-” Your brain is searching for the right words, but you keep coming up short every time. And then Josh does something he hasn’t done in a long time; he kisses you. And you feel like the small cracks that were forming in you, were gone.

“We’ll get through this,” He tells you once he pulls away, pulling you into his chest and resting his head on top of yours. You squeeze him tightly, afraid that he won’t come back if you let go. “Whatever this is, we’ll get through this. I promise.”

I’m Only Human

(gif credit to the creators)

Part Three - Difficult Decisions

Master List

Pairing: Castiel x OFC
Word Count: 1,182
Warnings: language probably, usual SPN stuff
A/N: I still can’t get over how much you’re all loving this! Its absolutely amazing! If you’d like to be tagged let me know! Hope you guys like it! Anyway, feedback for this is awesome! :)

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Tell Her I Said Goodbye 

Words: 1,362

AN: Here is the second part to You Don’t Know What It feels Like! Finally after all this time, Sam is finally getting his own story. After this, the story is going to become more about Sam and his road to happiness, and less about the readerxdean story in the first part. I guess you could say the first part was a prequel to this new series. I know that I traditionally write for Dean, and I normally focus on reader or casxdean pairings… but I’m trying something new. Please let me know what you think! I always appreciate feedback! Love you all, more to come! 

Sam was laying in bed later that night, with a bottle of Jack Daniels and Lord of the Rings on his TV. Since he had witnessed you and Dean kissing in the shooting range, he wasn’t exactly up for socializing, so he had shut himself in his room to avoid any unwanted conversation. He wasn’t in the mood. He didn’t know when it had happened, but he had somehow fallen head over heels in love with you. “I’m an idiot,” Sam said out loud to himself, and he was right. He was an idiot. He should have known better than to fall for a girl who was in love with his brother. “Who does that?” He sat up slightly and took a large swig of the brown liquid, hissing at the burning feeling it left in his throat. He returned the bottle to the nightstand and grabbed his phone. After several attempts of typing in his passcode he was rewarded with access. Pressing on the photo icon, Sam pulled up his photo library and began scrolling through its contents. Pictures of the three of you, and occasionally Cas, filled the screen, but he stopped when one of the two of you together caught his eye. He clicked on the photo, making it bigger and just stared at it. It was a selfie that you took one night on a hunt. Dean had gone out to get some food and you and Sam had stayed to look into some lore.  As always, Sam had been nose deep in a book, and you had stolen his phone in an attempt to get him to ‘lighten up’. He smiled at the expression on your faces, your lips pursed and your eyes crossed and him just smiling at your antics. As much pain as he had experienced in his life, he always seemed to let his guard down around you. When he was with you, he didn’t have to pretend to be this ‘big macho tough guy’. He could tell you anything and not be afraid of your judgment. ‘This is gonna suck’ he thought to himself. If it were any other guy, he would fight for you… but this was Dean, and the two of you were in love. How was he supposed to get over you? Just watching the two of you together was enough to crush him, and he knew that he couldn’t bare it if he stayed around it. Sam pushed himself off the bed, stumbling a bit when he attempted to stand. Walking over to his closet, he pulled a large duffel from the bottom and began pulling clothes from hangers. He hadn’t realized how drunk he was until he was trying to fold one of his flannels. He was on his second attempt when he heard a small knock on his door. A moment later his door opened and you poked you head in.

“Hey” you said, giving him a large smile. “Got a minute?” Sam nodded.

“Yeah, come on in.” He continued to pack his bag, a bit slower this time. He didn’t want you to know he was drunk.

“So…” you began, “Dean and I talked.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah..” you waited a moment. “We kissed.” You stated excitedly, waiting for his reaction.

“I know.” Sam said, throwing some socks in with the rest of his clothes. He looked over his shoulder to see you frowning.

“You know?”

“I kinda saw you guys…” he cleared his throat. “I didn’t want to intrude.”

“Well, don’t sound so excited for me or anything.” You chastised, clearly getting annoyed with his reaction. Sam sighed and turned to face you.

“I AM excited for you.” he said, sensing your annoyance. It was silent for a moment. “So you together now?” he asked, hoping his fake interest would get him back on your good side. You smiled, fidgeting with a strand of your hair.

“I don’t know. We still need to talk about it but… he said he loves me.” Sam smiled at the happiness in your voice.

“I’m happy for you guys.”

“Thanks Sam.” You let out a happy sigh and looked around the room, your eyes landing on his suitcase. “Did you find a case?” Sam followed your gaze and shifted slightly on his feet.

“Um… not yet.” He resumed packing, avoiding making eye contact.

“Yet?” Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“I um… think I’m going to South Dakota for awhile. Stay in one of Bobby’s cabins… visit Jodie and the girls… I’ll find something when I get there”. He zipped his now full duffle closed and walked to his bookshelf, pulling several books out and making a small pile.

“By yourself?”

“Yeah. I think I just need to go for awhile, clear my head.” Sam reached over and grabbed his bottle of whiskey, taking a swig before closing the lid and throwing it on top of the duffel.

“Are you drunk?” you asked, growing concerned. You walked across the room and gently grabbed his arm. “Sam. What is going on?”

“I’m fine, (Y/N). Just… I need to be by myself right now.” He responded, a bit harsh. You looked at him, your anger growing by the second.

“Well, you’re not going anywhere tonight. You’re in no condition to drive.” You countered, releasing his arm and grabbing the keys to his car laying on his dresser. “Sleep it off. We will talk tomorrow”. You left him then, leaving the scent of your perfume in the air. He threw himself down on his bed, not even bothering with blankets or pillows. He was tired, he was upset, and he just didn’t care enough anymore.


Sam woke up early the next morning with a pounding in his head. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands and sighed. It was 5 in the morning, and he knew that you and Dean were probably sleeping, and that he should wait to talk to you before he left, but he didn’t think he could wait that long. He rolled out of bed and got took a quick shower before getting dressed. He did quick scan of the room, making sure he had everything he needed. After grabbing a few extra lore books and his duffel he left his room, making sure not to make a lot of noise. He loaded his truck with his belongings and got in before he remembered you taking his keys. “Dammit” he mumbled to himself, getting out and heading back into the bunker. He was passing through the library when he spotted Dean sitting at one of the tables; feet propped up, a drink in his hand. He gave Sam a look before reaching into his robe pocket and pulling out Sam’s keys.

“You might need these.” He said, tossing them onto the table. Sam stepped forward, and grabbed the keys.

“Thanks”. Sam nodded to his older brother before turning and making his way back to the garage.

“That’s it?” Sam stopped and turned to see Dean walking toward him. “No explanation… just gonna take off without saying goodbye?” Dean was standing in front of him now, arms crossed and looking pissed. Sam took a deep breath.

“Look. I just need to get out of here. What do you care anyway? I’ve gone out on my own before!”

“I care because (Y/N) came into my room last night tore up because you were a drunk asshole!” He shouted, pointing a finger at Sam. “What the hell was that about anyway?”

“I was drunk, Dean… you gonna pretend that you don’t turn into an asshole when you drink sometimes?” Dean stared at him.

“Well, you got me there…” Dean shook his head, and sighed. “You check in, got it?” Sam rolled his eyes, but smiled at his older brother’s concern.

“Got it.”

“I mean it, Sam. If I don’t hear from you every four days, I’ll track you down and beat the shit out of you myself.”

 “Okay, Dean. Every four…” Sam clapped his brother on the shoulder, before walking away. He stopped for a moment, one foot out the door and whispered. “Tell her I said goodbye.” 

Jerome Valeska Imagine #5: Books

Pairing: Jerome x Reader

Warnings: None

Requested: No


You slid your hand across the bookshelf, looking for a book to buy. You were into any genre of book, so it made it hard to pick just one. When you picked one, you walked to the counter.

“Um, excuse me?” You asked the empty counter. You looked through the slightly ajar door and saw a boy with red hair with his pants down, his manhood plowing a woman’s behind, both beginning to moan rather loudly. Your eyes widened in shock and you left your money there on the counter and left. As you left the bookstore, the redhead came out of the room saw you walk quickly down the sidewalk.

The girl then came out of the room and hugged him from behind, “that was amazing, babe.”

The boy got angry, “don’t call me babe.”

The girl then backed away from the boy and went back to work.

Jerome looked down at the counter sadly, the girl who just left, it being you, was his girlfriend. His eyes began to tear up.


You wiped the tears from your eyes as you began to pack your things. The scene still playing in your head. Repeating every single thing. When you heard the door open, you quickly zipped up the duffle bag and walked out of it, Jerome walking up to you, “Y/N please.”

Ignoring him, you shove him out of the way and walk past him, only for him to grab your wrist forcefully and pull you back, “you aren’t going anywhere.” He growled.

You looked at Jerome with fear, your eyes beginning to water. He knew you had been in a previous relationship like this and vowed to never be the man your ex was. Jerome was a villainous man, but never towards the people he loved most. You shut your eyes and pulled away as soon as his facial features began to soften. “Y/N,” he spoke softly after you left out the door.

You walked the streets of Gotham, not knowing where to go. You looked down at your stomach, then back up, knowing exactly where to go. You went to the Gotham Library and went to the children section. You sat in the small gazebo and red a lot of baby books. Something your mother did when she was pregnant with you.

You read aloud, reading to the baby growing in your belly. You smiled at every word you said. The books you read, putting you in a good mood. You read and read until you fell asleep in the gazebo, a book covering your face.

Someone woke you up an hour later, it being your cheating boyfriend. He looked at you with vulnerable eyes, “Y/N, baby please. I’m sorry. I know what I did was really wrong, but I promise I won’t do it again. I swear on my own stupid life I won’t. Please just come home.” He sniffled.

“Why Jerome? Why did you do it? What did I do wrong?” You asked him.

He scooted closer to you, actually fitting in the thing together, and cupped your face, “you did nothing wrong, doll. Nothing. It was me. I was alone with a girl, and I couldn’t keep my dick in my pants. I’m so sorry. And I’m so fucking sorry for grabbing your wrist so harshly. I promised a lot of shit and I can’t keep any of them. But the one thing I can promise and will keep is the fact that I love you. I love you so much. I love you and our child.”

“Jerome, h-”

“I understand. If you don’t want-”

You roll your eyes and cut him off with a kiss. He kisses back immediately and passionately, as if he almost lost you. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you into his chest. You two fell onto the pillows that lay there. Jerome on top of you, his thumb caressing your cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jerome, but I can’t forgive you that easily.”

His face fell. “Why not?”

“Because what you did really hurt me, J. How long-”

“It was just that time. I promise.” He interrupted you, looking into your eyes.

You looked at him, “make it up to me, and we’ll see.” You say.

“How about I spend the rest of my life providing for you two,” he poked your belly.

“How did you know-”

“I saw the test in the bathroom. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked you.

“I wanted to, today at the store, but-” you stopped yourself.

“Oh,” he said, then stayed silent.

His face falls, but you lift his chin, “but you know now.” You smile. “And I still love you, and I know somewhere inside all that mean and cruel, is a caring, beating heart. I know you won’t do it again, J. I know you.”

He smiled at your kind words. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You kiss him.

You pull away, but then Jerome brings you back into the sweet kiss. You hum into it as you pull away, “wanna stay with me and read these books I grabbed?”

“Boy would I love too!” He smiled widely like a young boy. “Read away, doll.” He smiled as he made himself comfortable.

The rest of the day you and Jerome sat in the library reading children’s books. Then spent some time talking about your baby.


Note: I worked five hours today and I’m still a small ball of energy!😊

Unexpected Part 2 (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Unexpected Part 2 (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Part 1 - Unexpected (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Requested: nope

Summary: Reader is a trauma nurse down at the local hospital, her neighbour just happens to be Captain America. When he gets into a bit of trouble, she comes to the rescue.

They sat at her kitchen table, sipping at their coffee silently not really knowing what to say to each other. Y/N just finished up his wound and decided coffee would be the best place to start something. But apparently not, he couldn’t even look at her, he just stared at the brown steaming liquid that was in his cup.

“So, I stitch you up and basically save your life, I give you the beautiful gift of caffeine and you’re just gonna sit there and tell me nothing.” Y/N pointed out while tapping her fingers impatiently on her table.

“Short version or the long version?” He asked while finally looking up at you. His blue eyes looked exhausted from the actions that happened a short time ago.

“I’m gonna say short version for now since its 5:30 in the morning.”

“Good choice, so the short story is that I pissed off a lot of Hydra agents a long time ago, and now they are out to get me for some revenge.” Steve said as if he wasn’t bothered by any of it.

“Wait Hydra? What are you CIA or something?” You ask suddenly terrified of this entire situation.

“Sure, something like that.” Steve said with a smirk.

Before she could respond to the answer she was given, there was a loud knock on her door that made both of them stiff. She looked at her hallway then back to her neighbour who had his eyes towards the hallway as well. Once he made eye contact with her again, he whispered to be quite. After sitting there, heartbeats racing, palms sweating, they could hear the knock on the door again.

Steve slowly got up from the kitchen table and walked slowly to Y/N’s front door.

“What are you doing?” She whispered following him close behind.

“Go to your room, we don’t know who’s behind that door.” He said back, glaring at her almost.

“I’m staying, I can take care of myself.“ And with that she got in front of him and did a light jog towards the peep hole. She placed her hands on the door in front of her gently then slowly leaned in to see who was on the other side of the door. She let out a sigh of relief once she noticed the person on the other side of the door just happened to be her friend, her very drunk friend.

“Y/F/N what the hell are you doing here?” She asked while popping her head from the door. She wasn’t going to open the entire thing up, if she saw Steve she wouldn’t shut up about it.

“I missed you silly goose! Your ass basically lives at that hospital.” Her friend whined while leaning her head against the door. She was extremely drunk.
“Listen go back home, I’m seriously not in the mood for this right now.” Y/N said sternly, she had enough of today. “Your apartment is only six floors up just take the elevator.”

“How rude, not even taking me up stairs to my own place. You better be available for me tomorrow or I’m gonna kick your ass.” She threatened while giggling at the same time.

“Goodbye Y/F/N.” And with that you shut the door and locked it. When you turned around you could see Steve leaning against the wall with a smile on is face. “What’s so amusing to you?” Y/N was just annoyed now. Instead of sleeping she had to deal with someone else’s bullshit now.

“You couldn’t even walk her up to make sure she was okay? What kind of friend does that?” He teased while crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“No I didn’t because now I got into your stupid mess because I decided to be a decent human being a save your life.” You pointed out while poking him on his bicep. You made your way back to your kitchen, grabbing both of the mugs and rinsing them in the sink. She couldn’t be bothered to clean them properly right now, she felt as though her head was going to explode. Turning off the tap Y/N let out yet another sigh and rubbed her temples with her fingers.

“We need to go, get out of New York for a bit.”

“No no no no no, you can leave New York for a bit, I have a job and bills I need to take care of.” Now Y/N was pissed.

“No, you need to come with me, they shot at the apartment because they saw you there with me. They know you tried to help me so you need to leave.” He explained putting his hands on her shoulders, trying to get the message into her head that she is no longer safe anymore.

“I warned you, once I told you information your life will be in danger. So lets go.“ And with that he left her apartment and went back to his. Probably to pick up a getaway bag of some sorts. Once the information kicked in Y/N panicked and ran to his apartment. Once she got in she looked around for a bit and noticed the mess everywhere. Glass, blood, and other debris was all over the living room and most of the kitchen. She heard some rummaging coming from the back of the apartment, so she took her focus away from that and headed towards the back.

“I thought that was some joke or something, you’re not being serious are you? I have a life!” Y/N shrieked, this was getting way out of hand now.

“No I wasn’t joking, who would joke about someone’s life being in danger?” Steve started throwing random articles of clothing into a duffle bag, after he was done that he popped a floor board open and got some cash and a passport.

“No Steve this isn’t happening, good luck on whatever but I can’t do this.” Before she could leave the apartment police sirens could be heard from the distance. Steve peaked out the window of his bedroom and saw patrol cars come up the alley that was by the apartment.

“Took them long enough to respond to some gun shots. And listen, we’re gonna go back to your apartment and pack up some of your things, if you stay you die.” He zipped up his duffle bag, grabbed her arm and dragged her into her down the hallway.

“Let go of me! Are you crazy? Let the cops take care of this one.” But he didn’t budge.

“I’m not letting some innocent person die because they decided to help me. If you come with me I can keep you safe.” He let go of her arm and looked into her eyes. This situation was absolutely insane. She had a typical morning, went to work with her normal shift, got home and went to bed. None of this shit was suppose to happen in the first place.

“How do I know I can trust you?” Y/N asked, the fact that she was even debating on whether or not to go with him startled her. What made her think this way?

“Well thats up to you to decide now isn’t it?” This is mental. She had that gut feeling though, that if she didn’t go something bad was going to happen, she needed to go with him for some reason and she couldn’t even explain or begin to understand why. She ruled her eyed and pushed the door open, she ran to her room and did the exact same thing Steve did, she got random pieces of clothing, she opened up her drawer and stuffed some cash into the side pocket of her duffle bag. “Don’t forget your passport.”

“Listen I agreed to go with you, but we are not leaving the damn country do you understand me? I’ll with you and look after your wound to make sure you don’t bleed to death but that’s it.” She huffed and zipped up her bag swinging it over her shoulder. She’s lost her mind at this point.

“No promises on that but we seriously need to leave before the cops get up here okay?” Steve was getting anxious now, and Y/N didn’t know if that was a good sign or not.

“Yeah yeah I get that. I have an idea, so take me to your car and lets get the hell out of here.” She pushed passed him and headed towards the stairwell that was on their floor. “It’s about 5 hours out, hope you don’t mind.”

“Anywhere is better than here doll.”

The Purge:Avengers Assemble *Avengers*

Originally posted by ujustneedbrave

Summary: The Purge, a night where for 12hrs all crime is legal. A night where people are allowed to do as they please. A group of unlikely individuals end up battling for their lives in a billionaire’s mansion.
Steve and Bucky, a pair who go out on Purge night to help citizens. Natasha and Clint, a pair who came together one Purge night and now are hired to assassinate on that night. Tony a billionaire who makes weapons for that night. Bruce, an unlucky man with a shitty car. And Thor, a man with an unfortunate brother situation. 
Warnings: Violence, blood, implied smut, talk of sex, implied rape scenes. 
Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Thor & Loki, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Brock Rumlow, Wanda Maximoff(sequel), Pietro Maximoff(sequel), The Howling Commandos, Darcy Lewis, Jane Foster, T’Challa and Peter Parker (Sequel)

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Steve Rogers (unsure if I should add reader insert, let me know. May do WinterWitch> Bucky x Wanda, if not, I can add reader and maybe put her with Bucky)

Tony 5 Hours Before Purging

“Mr Stark, do you have any thoughts on the latest weapon you have issued out for Purge night?” one female news reporter asked.

Tony stood in front of many press, news reporters and journalists. This was his life, making new weapons every year for normal people to use on purge night, a lot of people like him make money from this… distasteful night. Only he makes the most. Every year Tony Stark releases a new weapon, limited to that year of Purge.

“Well, this year’s weapon is very unique, nothing like I have made previously.” He spoke clearly into the microphone, signature Stark smirk upon his lips, “this year’s weapon is called the Mark XXIV or Tank is what I like to call it, only the daring will use it. Beautifully plated chrome and gold, it’s around the same size of a .500 S&W Magnum. Not a revolver, works like a standard handgun.” Pictures popping up of his limited Purge gun of the year, “of course my own little twist is added, electromagnet was added to give it that extra… push in the modern age of purging.”

Besides being known for making money from the Purge night, Tony also deals with clean energy, two very different fields and completely trumping every and all other companies in both. Which is why Tony doesn’t participate in Purge night, he’s been a target since taking over Stark Industries from his father. His parents were both purged when he was only a teen. This often has people wondering why he went into the business of making weapons specifically for Purge night.

“Will you not be participating in this year’s Purge, Mr Stark?” Another spoke up causing Tony to chuckle lightly.

He shakes his head, “No, I will not be participating this year. I do hope however that the people purging like the weapon this year, it will be selling at gun stores as of right now, and remember if you don’t get one you can always purge for one.”

He smiled and nodded to his team before being escorted away back to his lockdown mansion.

Steve 4.5 Hours Before Purging

Originally posted by james-barnes

Steve double checked every bag was equipped and every gun was loaded, causing his friends to all groan with annoyance from the dining table they all sat playing Poker around. He simply chuckled and threw the last gun into a green duffle and zipping it up.

“You’ll be thanking me for all this double checking,” Steve smiled and pulled out a chair, his friends all chuckling or rolling their eyes in response.

Dum Dum Dugan, loudly laughing as a cigar stuck out the left side of his mouth, “in your dreams Rogers. The day I say thank you is the day someone knifes me on Purge night.”

Steve simply rolled his eyes and took a drink from Gabe; he had met all these men when serving for his country, he and his best friend Bucky went into line of action. They all went onto special ops, forming their own small team before they served their time, now they all live relatively normal lives.

Except when its Purge night. They band together and patrol the streets of Brooklyn, sometimes venturing as far as New York, only to help stranded civilians. Help families who can’t protect themselves, they’ve also been known to steal from shops also but they are relatively good people on Purge night.

“Hey, Punk, did you see the new limited weapon from Stark?” a voice called from behind Steve, he craned his neck and see his best friend since childhood walk into the room, cigarette dangling from behind his left ear and denim jacket was thrown carelessly over one shoulder. “It’s a whopper of a gag, chrome gold and scarlet red.”

Steve rolls his eyes, Bucky had never been fond of Mr Stark’s limited weapons for Purge Night, not that Steve was but he couldn’t help but Marvel at some. “Why do you get so angsty over him?”

“I do not,” Bucky places a hand on the back of his chair, looking down at Jacques cards and offering a word of advice between his yearly rant. “He just is really promoting this bullshit thing, despite what happened, you’d think he’d show some sympathy for others who had lost their parents, innocently, to purge night.”

“Okay, Jerk but you totally get angsty over him every year; even the guys agree.” Bucky looked at his friends who all nodded, Dum Dum laughing almost choking on his own cigar at Bucky’s face.

He pulls the cigarette from behind his ear, lighting it with a sour expression causing Steve to chuckle, earning a smack upside the head from Buck. He turned and frowned at Bucky, who smirked and earned a middle finger.

Natasha & Clint 3 Hours Before Purging

Originally posted by spiderandhawk

“Let’s filler her up on gas, also get some snacks,” Clint called as Natasha exited the passenger’s seat, rolling her green eyes lazily at her best friend, nodding once before walking towards the gas station shop as Clint pulled the pump from the gas tank.

Natasha walked into the store, nodding once at the owner, an elderly man with a perky smile and it was that smile that made Natasha feels slightly queasy. People don’t just go out and murder in cold blood on purge night, no, people are kidnapped and…raped throughout the 12 hours. Something Natasha has witnessed first-hand.

She scanned the shelves for some potato chips, grabbing beers also just because it will take the edge off; she shut the fridge door and turned bumping into somebody. Looking up she jumped slightly, staring back at her wasn’t a normal face but one covered by a mask, specifically a clown like one made from plastic.

She sighed, “purge isn’t for another three hours, loser, get in line for the queue willing to kill me.” She stepped around the man, who just watched her, rolling her eyes and walking to the counter where she paid for the snacks and beer; giving her blessing for a good purge night before leaving the store and walking back to the car.

“Well, don’t they look friendly,” Natasha looked up as she reached the car to see Clint nod his head across the car park.

Originally posted by begavet

Sure enough, there was the same guy, head tilted to the side as he looked right back at the pair. Only this time, there were others crowding him, all masks on and holding various weapons. Holding Skateboards in one of their hands, that must be how they’re travelling around, Natasha thought to herself. A young group of teens, probably participating in their first purge night.

They got in their car, Natasha’s eyes still staring back at the group; a part of her knew she’d be seeing them later as Purge night starts. A horrible settling feeling in her gut, she didn’t often feel this unsettled by this night but she did this time, a part of her knows she maybe should have had pleaded Clint to stay in tonight.

“You okay, Nat?” Clint asked glancing back at her before going back to the road, pulling on his purple sunshades, Natasha rolled her green eyes at her best friend.

“Fine, they just creeped me out,” she shrugged gently her eyes drifted to the mirror a saw a figure in the distance come into view. Her breath caught in her throat even from here she knew.

Thor 2 Hours Before Purging

Originally posted by casisnotinfire

Thor watched as the window shutters came down earlier than usual. Thick metal creating a shadow as they keep anyone from coming in and especially anyone getting out.  His brow furrowed, they never come down this early, and he turned out of his room and down to the living area.

His family are respected in the neighbourhood; they’ve also been a respected family for hosting Purge parties, something Thor isn’t fully behind. He’s watched his family purge innocent people, unfortunately, lower class people who offer their lives for money for their families, different circumstances but still the horrible conclusion.

His mother and father sat in the living room, TV playing the countdown news channel to purge night; he coughed lightly earning their attention.

“The shutters?” he simply asked eyebrows furrowing as his mother just sighed, giving her husband a look for him to answer.

His father looked at him, he lost an eye during one unfortunate purge night, “I’ve closed the shutters early because we are not purging this year. None of us, a few trustworthy people have been telling me that someone is after my boys.” Thor frowned deeply.

“Let them come, let them figure out what a mistake they’ve made.” Thor burst earning his brother to come into the room, holding a book in hand he looked between Thor and their dad. Loki was adopted, taken in when his family was killed on Purge night, by Thor’s family and it was the least they could do for the young boy.

Their father shakes his head, “this isn’t up for discussion, and you have less than two hours to tell your friends that you can’t be part of their plans, this house is going under locked down for the first time in ten years.”

Thor leaves in a huff, walking through the halls once again to his room and sitting on his bed. It’s not that he likes to purge but it’s a way to let off the steam that is built. That’s what purging is meant for, letting your inner demons out for that one night.

He doesn’t know how long he sat there for but he gets up, hearing his parents down the hall talking amongst themselves, deciding he should talk his brother Loki he ventures further down the halls. He accepted Loki as his brother straight away; he hates what his family did to his family, partly why he hates purge night also.

He hears light murmurs coming from his brother’s room, the door a creak open and Thor shouldn’t snoop but he does. He looks through the slither; Loki is on the phone, talking quietly in hushed, cautious tones.

“No, my family has this place on locked down, it’s gonna be even more difficult to take him out than before.” Loki mutters down the phone, “he won’t be on the streets; you’ll have to come in and kill him from in here, killing him will be easy enough. Once that is done, you have what I want?” Thor can’t hear the other end but the conversation doesn’t sound too good, “if anyone gets in your way you have my permission to cut them down, trust me, it’s madness I know but killing Thor and his family will be a blessing for us both.”

Thor’s eyes widen, he steps away from the door and frowns, turning around abruptly he debates on telling his parents. His mind swarming as he walks down the hallways, mind reeling on this information, his brother wants him dead? For what reason, he does not know but he felt sick. He couldn’t tell their parents, whoever it is just wants him, if he leaves Frigga and Odin won’t be killed because of him.

He grabs his coat and pulls on some shoes, opening the front door quietly and leaves. He had to get to his friends before the Purging begins.

Bruce 30 Minutes Before Purging

“No, no, please no.” Bruce cries from inside his car, pushing his glasses up his nose as he tries the gas again… nothing. “Shit.” He opens the car door and scratches his hair, no one was gonna let him use their phone or hide out, especially on a night like this.

He was miles from his safe house, he had no way of getting help, and he was well and truly fucked. Any other night, any other night this could have happened but nope had to be tonight. He leant against the car and pulled his glasses off if he was gonna be killed might as well be able to see them through his glasses without smudge marks.

If he walked through the city it would take an hour, only the city is always crawling with purgers, people not caring if he was left out by accident. This night is about survival. Bruce isn’t good at surviving, despite being known for having a temper, often told to go out and purge that anger out himself… he can’t. Something about taking another’s life isn’t something he likes the idea of.

Originally posted by eoneanz

He pulls his bag from the car, taking his keys out; he probably won’t see this car again. Keep to the backstreets and move as quickly as he can. He opened his bag and pulled his tablet out, opening the case an odd looking card was stored there, frowning Bruce picked it up and examined it closely. 

A playing card, a Joker on the front. He flipped it over and on the back of the card in black marker was the words, ‘You Angry Yet?’. Someone set this up. 

‘Twenty Minute till Purge Night’, he heard the faint warning sign from the city ahead. Fuck!

Purge Begins


Originally posted by tomshardy

“You guys ready?” Steve asked turning to his friends, each one nodding and walking out the door with him.

The Brooklyn streets were deathly silent as the siren quietens down, leaving nothing but the realisation that it would be a long twelve hours of survival, something Steve still gets a kick out of since leaving the force. The adrenaline slowly pumping through his veins.

The click of a lighter fills the silence; Steve turns his head to watch Dum Dum and Gabe light a cigar each, he chuckled lightly before going back to surveying the area. Blue eyes piercing any shadows and ears listening for anyone watching them.

“You heard back from Rumlow?” Bucky walked up beside Steve’s side, looking at his best friend who was full focused on looking for any unwanted attention, “cause he seemed pretty pissed that you didn’t want to join his squad tonight.”

“He’ll get over it, he knows how I feel about purging, he couldn’t have thought I’d join his crusade to pillage houses for… women and murder.” Steve winced at his words which were true beyond the belief.

Bucky chuckled slightly, “pillage? Steve, it isn’t counted as murder tonight, remember? Maybe you should join Rumlow, you got a heck of a lot of demons tonight.” He offered lightly.

“So, just because the laws are gone for twelve hours it doesn’t count? Lives are still lost in cold, hard blood. Nothing is changed just the fact that the government is looking the other way. You won’t catch me doing what any of those other groups do,” Bucky stared at his friend’s profile for a moment before nodding.

“Gee’ you got a heck of an opinion,” Bucky clapped Steve’s shoulder before nodding to the others to walk further into Brooklyn.

Steve knew Brock didn’t like him declining him, in fact, he had told him to watch his back on that purge night. Steve glanced behind them, staring down the street, almost willing Rumlow to come round the corner to confirm his threat. His name is called by James Falsworth; he turns to the British friend who just offers a smile.

“You okay Rogers?” he nods once, offering a confident smirk and the two jog to catch up with the others.


“Shit!” Steve yelled from behind a wall, gun raised and panting heavily from beside Dum Dum, who was yelling about how he dropped his cigar. “How many do you think there are?”

“Too Goddamn many, Cap” was yelled gruffly in his ear, his friends always brought up the nickname on this day, it used to irk him but now he has grown accustomed to the name.- mostly cause it makes him remember his army days.

Steve sighed harshly and peeked out from the corner, a gun goes off and a bullet skims past his face by a few inches, Dum Dum pulls Steve back by the collar and laughs.

“Hey, his face is all he has going for him,” he yells over the roaring of gunshots causing Steve to chuckle.

“We are on their turf.” Steve yelled back, smirk settling on his face as Dum Dum made a grunting noise, cocking his gun and lightening another cigar, “plus they have those limited edition guns and let’s be honest, they’re pretty darn good’.” Dum Dum sighed and nodded in agreement, tipping his hat as he looked over Steve’s shoulder.

“Who the hell is that idiot?”

Steve turned with a frown and sure enough, there was a man wondering on the Brooklyn Street, in what Steve has called ‘no man’s land’, between him and the other Purgers. Doesn’t this dude know what night it is? He’s walking around no weapon, looking lost and as if he has nothing to worry about.

“Call the guys for back up, I’mma have to go in and get that idiot outta the street.” Steve sighed and placed his gun sling around his shoulder, rubbing his fingerless, leather clad gloves together.

Natasha & Clint

“I really don’t think we should be stopping, Clint” Natasha muttered to her friend who just shrugged his shoulders.

She felt jittery, she hadn’t felt this jittery since her first purge night and that was years ago, she was a child and her father forced her to take part. The streets were dark, illuminated by street lamps and all she could hear was silence.

“What’s got you so tense?”

“Those idiots back at the gas station,” she muttered and Clint frowned gently, “I don’t know, I just have a weird feeling something bad is gonna happen tonight, I haven’t felt like this since the purge night I met you.” She admitted with a small frown, looking out the car window.

Clint nodded lightly and sighed, “Listen, we got this. We’ve been doing this as a team for years. If anyone can handle those hooligans it’s us, even you on your own.” Natasha chuckled and nodded.

“We need to lose the car anyway,” Clint tells her opening his door, Natasha frowned and followed him to the trunk where he pulled out the duffle bag and his bow and arrows.

Clint was very particular with how he purged, he used to do archery as a child and decided to incorporate that skill to his purging. Natasha marvelled at his artistic skill and hawk-eye but she didn’t understand why he’d always prefer a bow over a gun.

“We are being tracked.”

“What? By who?” she looked behind them and watched the street they had just driven down, deep down she knew by who but she just wanted Clint’s confirmation, his assurances that she hasn’t been going insane during their car journey.

“Those guys from the gas station, I didn’t want to say anything till I was sure and then you confirmed the odd feelings I’ve been getting since we left that place,” he sighed gently and she chuckled pulling two guns from the duffle.

Placing them in her thigh holsters, pulling on her leather jacket and placing a blue baseball cap over her red hair; as if that somehow helped her keep a low profile. Clint zipped up a bomber jacket and slung his arrows carrier over his shoulder, holding his custom made quiver and looked at Nat as he shut the boot and threw the keys over his shoulder.

“We need an up high area,” he looked around pulling his shades off and looking around.

“Do you hear that?” Natasha asked stepping around her friend and listening. There in the distance a round of bullets being fired, “someone’s having a fun night.” She grinned over her shoulder.

“And we have a job remember? Over twenty grand is on this,” he sighed as Natasha walked towards the noise and Clint groaned before following after her, something in the distance caught Natasha’s eye and she made the mistake of looking.

Sure enough, there was the group from the gas station skating down the road towards them. Clint grabbed Nat’s hand.

“Let’s hope whoever is firing will help us take these punks out,” he whispered and pulled her along as they ran up the street.


He had figured out he was in Brooklyn, he knew to keep away from Queens, some purger is known as Spiderman. No one knew who that person was because he wore a mask, like most, only from stories the mask is terrifying. 

He was near Prospect Park from signs when bullets started to fly at him. He ducked and hid behind a lone car, people yelling and firing at his cover, not even two hours into Purge and he’s already gonna die. Brilliant, just what he needed his car to break down and now this, to be fired at and killed in Brooklyn?

“HEY!” Bruce looked up and sees a very tall, muscular man staring at him from behind a corner. Army gear on, rugged looking face and a gun firing bullets at the people firing at him, “DON’T YOU KNOW WHAT NIGHT IT IS?”

“YEAH, MY CAR BROKE DOWN. I’M STUCK MILES FROM MY SAFE HOUSE.” Why was Bruce telling the man this? He just had a good guy vibe about him. Bruce watched as the man talked to the guy beside him, also in army greens, bowler hat and cigar hanging from the man’s mouth, they talked before that guy got in position to cover him.

Bruce watched as the mystery man ran, full on ran whilst being shot at to Bruce and ended up skidding, sliding and stopping beside Bruce. This guy was serious. Probably actually from a military background, no wonder he is out on purge night.

“Don’t worry we aren’t actually purging,” Bruce raised his eyebrows and nods, “I’m Steve Rogers, got a name?”

“Bruce Banner,” Steve frowned, “Yeah, that scientist guy who raged on live TV at a world peace ceremony.” Steve chuckled.

“Nicknamed the Hulk cause of that,” Bruce sighed and nodded, “kinda like Jekyll and Hyde thing. People call your rage side Hulk, yeah; my boys showed me the YouTube video.” Bruce groaned and that made Steve chuckle.

“Listen, all I care about is getting you to safety, Doctor.” Bruce smiled and nodded, watching as Steve peaked over the car, “when I say run, run towards Dum Dum.” Bruce sucked in a breath and nodded and after a few seconds, “RUN.”

Bruce got up and ran towards the man who was covering them both, Steve turned and started to shoot at the other purgers hitting three before getting to safety himself, he nodded for them to meet up with the others.

Originally posted by sikanapanele

“Rogers,” the three stopped and he sighed as a group of well-armed men walked towards them “good to see you purging, where are your other boys?” Steve locked his jaw and glanced at Dum Dum who held his gun tighter.

Bruce counted ten men including the one talking; they couldn’t take them, especially with himself so unequipped.

“Back at our place, I see you’ve already started and it’s not even into hour two, Rumlow,” Steve mentioned stiffly to the burning house just a few yards from them and Rumlow grinned cockily at that.

“Just doing what this night is about, you should let loose Cap, you are looking a little bit screwed too tight,” Rumlow smirked.

Rumlow was a tanned, tall and dark haired man. Almost as well built as Steve but somehow Bruce knew that if it came to it, Rumlow could easily take down Steve, he had a very uneasy feeling about this group. Especially with their smirks, clearly, they’re doing more than going around shooting people on purge night.

“Recruiting are we?” Bruce looked at Rumlow who was smiling at him, a chill ran through him as he pushed his glasses up, “please tell me you aren’t going around taking people’s purges, Rogers?”

“He’s a friend; we should get going, happy purging Rumlow,” Steve tells him and that makes Rumlow smile.

“Keep an eye on your men, Rogers. If they stop any of my team from purging tonight, we all won’t hesitate to shoot.” Rumlow calls.

“Neither will us.” Steve shot back before watching Rumlow leave round the corner with his men, “we gotta find the others and get you a weapon.” Bruce sighs and follows the two men.

( Happy Halloween. Let me know what you think. I’m kind of making the storylines in Marvel fit the Purge AU, also let me know if I did reader insert, who should I pair reader with. Kind of don’t want Steve x Reader, but give me feedback. Anything you want to happen? this is just the first part and it’s over 4,000 words. - Rosalee)

rooster-geek  asked:

Hey there! For that FAHC bonanza, could you do Gold Angel by Minke for Gavin? I feel like that song perfectly matches the rose gold aesthetic, it's got such a chill vibe and so much of Fake AH Gav's personality. (Sorry I don't really have much of a plot to go with it though!!)

Word Count: 1,132

Warnings: Guns

Song: Gold Angel by Minke

“He’s doing it again,” Jeremy whispered as you continued to dig through your bag taking inventory.

You sighed and looked over your shoulder at Michael and Gavin talking, seeming very engrossed in their conversation. You narrowed your eyes and looked back up at Jeremy, “Stop it. I need to take count. Make sure we have enough ammo.”

“I swear. He’s doing it right now,” Jeremy insisted.

Keep reading

The Human Way

Title: The Human Way 

Prompt: @wayward-mirage: Ask and you shall receive!  Lucifer x reader.  And let’s go with public smut if you are comfortable writing it.  If not, then how about watching fireworks together.  *** I decided to go with the public smut ^^ 

 Summary: Lucifer decides he wants to help you out on a case, but when he sees you in your FBI attire, that tight skirt…he can’t help but get a little frisky.  

 Warnings: SMUT

 Tags: @grace-for-sale, @lucifer-in-leather, @percywinchester27, @thewicked-end, @chaos-and-the-calm67, @nerdwholikesword, @chelsea072498, @pizzarollpatrol, @savingapplepie-eatingthings, @cici0507, @wayward-mirage, @charliebradbury1104, @melonberri, @bellastellaluna, @pinolief2001

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Originally posted by markpellegrinoworld

There were a lot of benefits to being a hunter.  You had one hell of a poker face.  It was hard to surprise you.  You were able to stay calm in intense and awkward situations.

The disadvantage of dating and being in love with an archangel…he proved all of those benefits you thought you had…wrong.

“I’m just curious. You are always hunting, I want to see what it is like.”  Lucifer stated as he sat at the small table in your motel room.  

He had stopped by last night and the two of you spent the night in, enjoying each other’s company.  Both of you had been pretty busy lately, so it was nice to have some time together.  And Lucifer decided it would be great to prolong that time, and accompany you on a hunt.

“Alright, you can come.  But you follow my lead, we do it the human way, and no killing anyone.”  You said quickly as you zipped up your duffle.

Lucifer remained silent for a moment before agreeing to your terms.  You began discussing the case with him, giving him all the details and giving your ideas of what the monster of the week could be.

And before too long, you were sitting in your car in front of the police station.

“I approve of that skirt.”  He spoke seductively as he looked you over.

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Time Warp

Summary : Balthazar catches one of the readers secret possessions.

Pairing : Balthazar x Reader

Word Count : 1473

Warnings : Smut and Cursing

Originally posted by supernaturaldaily

Finishing up the summoning spell, glancing back over at the holy oil. Noticing Balthazar now standing in the middle of it, you smile a ‘devilish smile’. Walking back over to the table to the side, you grab the angel blade giving it a quick glance over.

‘Always nice to see you Balthazar, I wish everyone else could say that. But seeing as we were there when Castiel, well what we thought that he killed you. Care to explain?’ You mumble out trying to form the right words.

‘Listen closely, not for very much longer, I’ve got too…..’ Balthazar starts speaking with a smirk.

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