#sassy little brother sam

[mothgardens]

One of the most heartbreaking parts of rewatching supernatural is noticing every time Dean does something “immature” for his age. Because, he never got to do those things when it was expected of him and his age. He was too occupied being a parent and a soldier to be a kid.

#supernatural #dean winchester #spn #it genuinely makes my heart hurt #and sam is always like 🙄 at dean bc he is a sassy little brother #but i also don’t think (at least in earlier seasons) that sam truly graps how much dean didnt live #i am not a deanfan (im defo a sam or casfan) but he is very interesting to analyze #please talk to me about supernatural #destiel

[nyxiswrites1200]

🩵𝑺𝒂𝒎'𝒔 𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍🩵

Sam Winchester x Fem!reader

Warnings: NSFT, MDNI, Crushing, friends to lovers, pet names, Sexual tension, Mellow sexual thoughts, Size kink, p in v, nipple play, multiple rounds, oral sex, praise kink, aftercare

Mentions: She/her reader pronouns, Reader wears a skirt, Reader is implied to be shorter than Sam, Imagining early seasons Sam, Dean is present

"In a world of boys, he's a gentleman"

AN: uhh I know I died for like a month but supernatural brain rot is incoming. Sam girl for life <3 anyhow, happy holidays loves. This is so self-indulging, sorry babes.

----

Sam Winchester is an awkward man. He's so respectful he doesn't know what to do with himself sometimes. But don't mistake his sweet attitude for a lack of attraction.

When you bend over to pick his book up off the floor for him, he notices your skirt sliding up your thighs. He quickly looks away as he runs a hand through the back of his messy brown hair.

Sam always opens the door of the Impala for you when you join him and Dean on road trips. He notices the way you let your hand brush over his arm as you help yourself into the car. Dean just lets out a small laugh as he climbs into the driver's seat.

Sam watches you saunter around the motel room in his shirt. Under the claim that 'it's just more comfortable'. He loves the way your figure is swallowed up by his larger clothes.

Sometimes it was almost degrading how respectful he was. In truth, you were trying to get his attention. To catch him peaking under your skirt, getting hard from seeing you in his shirt, or him finally being pushed over the edge by your 'discreet' affectionate touches. You swore you were gonna have to climb in his lap and say "fuck me" for him to actually do it.

In truth, Sam wasn't oblivious to what you wanted. Rather he was too kind to give it to you. He thought you were so precious that he needed to deny you. Sleeping with you would be too personal, too intimate and he wouldn't be able to let go of you after.

Dean let out a small laugh, Sam and him were alone in the hotel room while you went to go get dinner for the three. "What, Dean?" Sam asked in his partially sassy attitude as he read through his book. "Nothing nothing...it's just funny watching her pawn for you. Think you might be hurtin' her feelings." Dean smirked as he looked over at his little brother. Sam sighed in response, knowing he could only be talking about you. "I'm not that stupid, I know what she wants...I just..." he ran a hand through his hair "I don't think I should". "Sammy" Dean inquires "Look, she knows what we do. She hasn't gone running yet and she's perfectly human, there's nothing dangerous about that girl" he chuckles. "I know you're afraid because of what happened but...I think this might be something worth risking".

Sam let Dean's words simmer in his thoughts all night. For once he might actually agree with his older brother.

The next night you and Sam were alone. You finally spilled, being brutally honest. Sam watched with a bit of shock as you admitted how you'd be pawning for him. All your actions had a purpose and how bad you wanted to be his girlfriend. You almost wanted to cry with how emotionally overwhelmed this made you trying to explain yourself.

"Lovely, I'm sorry..." Sam stands as he cups your cheek and tilts your head up to meet his gaze. "I know you want me but I was being selfish because I know if I...indulge myself in you, I won't be able to let you go ever again." he explained, his voice was so gentle and his eyes reminded you of a puppy with the way he looked at you. "Maybe...I'm a little selfish too" you chime in "I just...I wanna be yours so bad that I don't really care what happens".

Those words alone tumbled the tension between both of you over the edge. Sam's kisses were soft then heated and needy. He had you pushed against the motel wall while both of you discarded your clothes. His larger figure covered you as he kissed you desperately. His hands engulfed your hips as he gripped them.

Once you two were on the bed, his hands fondled your breasts, teasing your nipples between his fingers. His chest pressed into your back as he kissed along your neck. You reached back to tangle a hand into his hair.

Sam was so sweet but he was a fucking god in bed. He knew exactly where to kiss, fondle, and tease. Nothing but deeply slurred words of "How does that feel?", "You okay?", "Taking me so well, lovely", and "Good girl...". You went three rounds with him...

He rubbed your clit and toyed with your nipples, leaving kisses and sucking up your neck. You came on his fingers, feeling him stretch you open. You wanted to watch his strong hands fuck into you so bad.

He nestled himself between your thighs. His tongue lapping up your first orgasm. You watched as you tugged on his hair, noticing the dominant look in his eyes. His hands gripping your thighs to keep them spread as you squirmed beneath him. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked on it until he fucked his tongue inside you while you came again.

Then finally he fills you with his cock, only after making sure you were okay. He had you stuffed to the brim, grunts and moans leaving him with each thrust. He pressed his forehead against yours as he kissed your cervix with the tip of his dick.

When you came for a third time, he let you ride your high until he pulled out and finished on your stomach. A gentleman as always, not stuffing you with his cum on the first night. Even if you wouldn't have minded.

Sam carefully cleaned you up in the bath. Warm water envelops you both. He placed a soft kiss on your shoulder and gently rubbed your side as he cleaned you up. His actions are no longer lustful, this was just affectionate. "Did you enjoy yourself? Wasn't too much?" he asked softly, his expression back to looking like a puppy. "I'm fine, Sammy. It was perfect..." You smiled and kissed him softly.

#fanfic writer #my writing #reader insert #fem reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester #sammy winchester #supernatural x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester smut #headcanons #supernatural fandom #aftercare #praise #mentions dean winchester #dean winchester #the winchester brothers #sam is a gentleman #gentleman #my new hyperfixation

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Dean’s Girl

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: When you get in trouble, you know just where to turn.

Your big brother was more than just your big brother. He was your best friend, your confidant, the one who raised you, and the one constant in your life.

When your mom died, Dean was there. When Sam went to college, Dean was there. When dad disappeared, Dean was there.

But now, Dean wasn’t here, and you had no idea what to do.

You had just gone out to get some food, that was it! Dean and Sam had been hunting a vampire nest, and since you were out of food you were going to go steal some for the guys, knowing that when they got back they’d be hungry. The one time you tried to be useful, and you just ended up getting caught.

The worst part was that you hadn’t been caught right away. Nope, you’d run all the way to your hotel, and you’d hoped that you could get into your room before the cop saw which way you turned, but it didn’t work out like that. Instead, the officer caught you with one foot in the door, which meant that he saw the wall covered in pictures and clippings of the victims of the vampires your brothers were hunting.

That predicament led to this one; you sitting in an interrogation room, your hands handcuffed to the table. You tried to imagine how Dean would be in this situation; would he be sarcastic and ornery, or would he be stoic and silent?

Not that it mattered what he would do; it was all you could do to keep from going into a panic attack, you definitely couldn’t pass for sassy or stoic at the moment.

“You’ve got a lot to explain, kid.” That was the first thing the officer said to you after he stepped into the room. “Look, we know you didn’t kill those people. But we also know that you checked in with a couple of men, right? Well we can get you off the stealing charges if you tell us what they did.”

“I want my phone call.” You didn’t even acknowledge the man’s words; the only thing you’d been able to think about since the second you got caught was ‘I need Dean.’

“Well maybe if you gave me some information I could arrange that for you.”

“I want my phone call.”

“I understand that.” The officer’s voice rose in agitation. “But I need you to tell me what those men did.”

You again ignored his words. You didn’t—couldn’t—think of anything but your big brother right now.

“I want my phone call.”

…

“Y/N? Gosh, kid, we’ve been calling you! Where—“

“De-Dean I’m so sorry,” you whimpered. “I-I didn’t mean to, I just—“

“Hey hey, slow down.” Dean’s voice lowered, trying to ease your panic. “It’s alright, we’re almost at the motel. Now—“

“No, no! Dean, don’t go back to the motel.”

“Why not? Baby, you’ve gotta tell me what’s going on.”

“I got—I got arrested,” you mumbled, blinking back tears.

“You what?! Y/N, what happened?”

“You can’t go back to the motel! They-they saw all the pictures, they’re waiting there!”

“Ok, ok baby we’re not, calm down. Me and Sammy are gonna figure it out, ok? We’ll come and get you. We might need a diversion, can you do that?”

“I-I…” your voice quavered when an officer returned to the room, tapping his watch.

“Y/N, listen! I need you to pull yourself together, ok? Can you do this?”

“I-I can,” you breathed. “De, I’m—I’m scared.”

“I know baby,” Dean sighed. “We’re coming to get you, ok?”

“Time’s up,” the officer interrupted.

“I gotta go,” you said shakily into the phone.

“Ok, that’s ok,” Dean soothed. “I’m gonna see you in just a little while, ok?”

Before you could say anything, the officer took the phone from your grasp and hung it up.

…

When it was clear that you wouldn’t speak without a lawyer or guardian present, one of the nicer officers suggested that you could wait in his office where it was more comfortable. Even so, you were so wound up that when a branch hit the window you just about jumped out of your skin.

“Things would go so much easier for everyone if you just told us about the guys you were traveling with,” the officer said. You didn’t respond.

Bang! Scrape! The branch continued to hit the window.

“You’re just a kid. You probably won’t even serve jail time if you just tell us what those guys did.”

Scrape…bang…bang.

You sat up straighter in your seat as you began to listen more intently to the sounds the branch was making.

D…

Bang! Bang! Bang!

You knew it! Morse code!

E…

Bang! Scrape!

A…

Scrape, Bang!

N.

Dean. He was here!

You tried not to let your emotions show on your face as fear once again clenched in your gut. If Dean was giving you this signal, that meant it was time for your diversion. You had to get this guy out of the room.

“I need another officer,” you said suddenly. The man’s eyebrows rose in surprise; he hadn’t expected you to speak.

“Another?”

“A woman,” you clarified. “I…I have a problem. If-if you get me a women officer, and she helps me with my…problem…” you made sure to make your pauses as awkward as possible so that the guy would get the message. “Then I’ll talk.”

“Oh!” That got the guy’s attention, whether because he wanted you to talk or because he was uncomfortable, you didn’t know. Either way it worked, and he disappeared out the door, closing it behind him.

As soon as he was gone, you jumped up on the chair you’d been sitting on and pulled open the window.

“Hey baby,” Dean‘s voice came from outside. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” you muttered nervously. “I-I don’t know if I can get out the window, the chair isn’t high enough.” The chair was just high enough for you to grab onto the window sill, but you weren’t strong enough to pull yourself up.

“That’s ok, I’m coming to get you.”

You looked up, trying to catch a glimpse of Dean through the window. He was climbing a tree just outside the window, and you jumped back in surprise when he leaped from the tree branch to the window. He pulled himself in easily, and dropped to the floor without making a sound.

You knew you were on a time-sensitive mission, but you couldn’t help yourself. As soon as Dean was in reach, you threw yourself into his arms. He staggered back slightly, lifting his hands to steady you by your shoulders.

“Ok, you’re ok kid,” he promised. “C’mon, we gotta get out of here.”

With Dean’s boost, you managed to climb through the window, but once you were through you became dizzy looking at the ground so far below.

“Kid come on, we gotta go!” Dean insisted.

“It-it’s too high,” you whimpered.

“No it’s not. Just lower yourself down by your arms and drop, it’s not too far I promise.”

You took a deep breath. If Dean said it was safe, then it had to be safe. It had to be. You put your palms on the windowsill, gripping it tightly as you slowly lowered yourself down. You were still a long way from the ground, but you could already hear Dean climbing up onto the chair. You couldn’t let him down, not after he did all this to save you from your own mess.

You closed your eyes tightly, took a deep breath…and dropped.

The second your feet hit the ground, you rolled in the grass, lessening the impact of the fall. Dean was right; you were ok.

Speaking of Dean, he followed right behind you, shooting you a grin as soon as he was on the ground next to you.

“See? That was easy. Now let’s get going.”

You were in the Impala and on the road before anyone had any idea you were gone.

To your surprise, Sam was sleeping soundly in the passenger’s seat. When Dean saw Sam was sleeping, he spoke up.

“Alright, let’s talk. What happened, kid?”

You lowered your gaze to your lap as you struggled to speak, the adrenaline of your capture and escape still making your heart pound.

“I just wanted to get some food.”

“Why didn’t you just wait?” Dean demanded, still annoyed.

“I wanted to help.” You mumbled.

“Ok,” Dean sighed, relenting. “But you can’t just do that, ok? We had no idea what happened to you.”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was thick as you blinked rapidly.

“Ok, ok.”

You looked up in surprise when Dean pulled the Impala over.

“What—“

Dean stepped out of the car and pulled open your door.

“Come here.”

You stepped hesitantly out of the car, your legs shaking.

“Am I in trouble?”

“Baby,” Dean sighed, shaking his head as he pulled you into his arms.

You didn’t know where this sudden affection came from, but you decided to run with it.

“I’m really sorry,” you said, your tears suddenly spilling over. “I-I didn’t mean to make it all harder. I just—I just thought I could help.”

“I know you did,” Dean sighed. “But next time you gotta tell us, ok?”

“It was just a stupid supply run, and I couldn’t even do that right!”

“Ok, ok,” Dean cradled your head with his hand, pulling you against his chest as you cried harder. “It’s alright. We all screw up, ok? It’s not important. You’ll do better next time, right?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I will, I promise.”

Dean smiled as you pulled away.

“That’s my girl.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy

@mrvlxgrl

#dean winchester #dean and sam #dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean #the winchesters #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #winchesters x sister #dean winchester x little sister!reader #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester x sister!reader

[futuristicenthusiastlight]

This was funny. Season 1, The Woman in White case. Big brother acting like Daddy to remind baby brother who's in charge. During the show, they fought physically many times, and it was always painful to watch, for me. Their being at each other's throats sounded a little off.

This slap was affectionate. And a little retaliation, as Sam stomped on Dean's foot to stop him from being too sassy to a policeman.

They were so young and on their way to getting close to each other again, after Sam's Stanford period.

#supernatural #spn #the epic love story of sam and dean #dean winchester #sam winchester #samdean #deansam

[winchester-girl67]

Raven Eyes

Summary: Half-Demon and half-angel, the reader struggles to control her outbursts of anger. Until she meets someone who makes her blood boil in a whole other way. She searches for her half-sister, Claire, with the help of the Winchester brothers and finds that, maybe, being human isn't all bad.

Requested by @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld : “Hey can i request a Dean or Sam Winchester x reader where the reader is a Nephalem (half angel half demon) and super powerful because Nephalem are the most powerful hybrid and Dean or Sam fall in loved with her because she is so sweet, shy, etc and in the end they end together? With smut is you want to added"

Pairing: Dean x Nephalem!reader 

Word Count: 11,913

Rating: mature 18+ MDNI

Warnings: not canon, language, mature themes, reverse age gap (kind of), violence/blood (gun, biting, restraints - Claire is tied to a chair), smut (p in v, unprotected sex), brief mention of body insecurity, injury, nightmares, maybe some anger control issues, angst, a little pining, kissing/cuddling, reader has one defining characteristic (raven eyes), star wars trilogy spoilers? (brief mention), mention of Sam and Dean slash fiction

A/N: This really got away from me, especially the word count, lol. The reader has both sweet/shy moments and bold/sassy ones; but I thought it was a good mix of energy for an angel/demon hybrid. Enjoy!

_____

Ugh...

You kicked the empty can under your foot down the dark alleyway. It landed in a puddle with a splash and you growled and kicked the glass bottle next. It shattered against the brick wall at the dead end, scattering into a myriad of pieces that rippled the top of the same puddle. 

Finally, that felt great. 

You just needed to break something. So, you did it again, lining up the next beer bottle. This one, full and unopened. You'd brought it outside with you from the bar you were currently venting behind. 

Alcohol did little to nothing for you, you were pretty sure the only buzz you ever got off it could be chalked up to a placebo effect. 

The bottle hit the wall, popped, and fizzed as it streamed down the bricks. The amber liquid staining a trail to the pavement below. It was somewhat satisfying, but... you wanted to break more shit. 

So much more. 

It was the demon’s blood in you, the urge to create chaos and torment just for fun. Although, ninety percent of the time it lost out to the half of you that was part angel. 

You didn't want to be evil and you didn't want to be good. You were all shades of grey and that was fine because you knew exactly who you were. Sort of. 

You were a Nephalem; half-demon, half-angel. 

Yeah, your parents were a piece of work. Try growing up in that household. Literal definition of having an angel on one shoulder and a devil -or in this case, a demon- on the other. 

But opposites attract, right. 

You never really fit in. As a child or now as an adult. Not with your father's angelic colleagues or your mother's demonic friends. You were one of a kind. 

'Unique. Unlike any other.' Your father would tell you.

'Powerful. A force to be reckoned with.' Your mother would say.

You loved them, your parents. Even if they drove you nutty and pulled at your limbs like some savage game of tug-o-war. Castiel and Meg had good intentions but you needed to stand on your own two feet for the first time.

So, here you were hanging out in the back alley of some highway dive off to the side of some two-star motel. Popping the cork on your own internal bottle of frustrations. The blood in your veins could only be shaken so much before you lost control and that was the point of breaking shit.

To calm your nerves and it usually worked, but not tonight. Tonight was different.

Your -sort of- half-sister, Claire, called you up for some help on a case she was working on. Fucking werewolves. She needed back up but when you arrived you couldn't find her. Anywhere!

When you asked the greasy bartender if he'd seen her and showed him her picture on your phone, all he said was 'I wish I had, damn'. Then he proceeded to shake out his hand as if he'd touched something hot and made a crude face with a little wink added in your direction... you almost ripped his face off right there, but there were too many witnesses.

A waitress flirting with some guy with more hair than a barbie doll and some guys playing pool; one of them obviously hustling the others. He was kinda cute actually -had a nice smile, short dirty-blonde hair and a scruff on his jaw that was way too trimmed to be natural- but you weren't here for that.

You had to find Claire.

You fisted your hands until your fingernails dug into your palms and bleed. Then hissed and watched the skin stitch itself back together under the orange flood lights of the alleyway.

That helped a little. The pain. You did it again, satisfying the demon within and hissing out a breath at the sharp sting each nail made as they buried into your flesh. Then. You breathed in and out like your father taught you. Slow and steady.

Inhale: one, two, three... Exhale: one, two, three...

Then repeat as many times as it takes to appease the angelic grace entwined within your soul.

When your blood was at war it felt like the epic internal battle of a Jedi struggling with the force -you had forced your father, Cas, to watch the recent Star Wars trilogy with you a couple of days before you left to meet Claire and really connected to the Kylo Ren/Ben Solo character and his dilemma of whether to embrace the pull to the light or give into the dark side- but a nephalem didn't have that choice. The only solution was to embrace it all, whatever murky shade of grey that turned out to be. But there were times you still struggled with it, times you wished you had more control over your heart and mind.

Times like now with that fucking bartender. Who even has frosted tips anymore, seriously?! What a douche.

He knew something and he wasn't telling you, you could hear his heart beat just a fraction quicker when he lied.

You let out a frustrated howl and kicked at the puddle, splashing and jumping until your boots and pant legs were soaked. You growled and fisted your hair in your hands and pulled. Frustrated to no end.

"Now that's a losing battle, if I ever did see one." Said a husky voice and you spun around to nothing but shadows behind you at the mouth of the alley.

What? "Who said that?"

"Don't get me wrong, that was entertaining as hell but that puddle's always going to be a puddle." A man stepped out of the shadows with a twisted smirk. "Unless you have the right tools... Maybe a mop and bucket." Oh, he thinks he's funny. You didn't laugh, you glared and he stepped directly under the flood light near the rear door. He pumped his eyebrows once and rubbed the trimmed scruff on his chin. "Geez, tough crowd. Why you so pissy, squirt?"

"Fuck off." Your guard was up.

"Big language for such a little girl. You're trouble, aren't you?" He said with a deep laugh. He fucking laughed. And took a step closer when you didn't respond. "You kiss your momma with that mouth?"

"My mother would rip you to shreds just for sneaking up on me."

Seriously, how'd he do that? You were usually hyper aware of your surroundings... but you were also in your head, duelling it out.

He looked you up and down, his eyes lingering on your wet jeans sticking to your calves. His tongue teased his bottom lip and he met your stare again. You scowled knowing exactly what he was thinking and crossed your arms in front of your chest to obstruct his view.

"You got some fire in you, squirt."

Screw you, pretty boy.

"Call me, squirt, one more time. I. Dare. You." You said through clenched teeth and stepped out of the puddle, bringing you chest to chest with this man.

Okay, maybe chest to chin -you still had to look up at him- but you weren't as small as he made you sound, at least you didn't think so. But one thing was for sure, you were a lot older than you looked, probably older than him... but you were kind of immortal too, so there was that.

You looked near the same age though, for what it's worth, and you felt young. Out from under your parents' -hypothetical for the most part- wing for the first time. No more babysitter.

He looked amused, "Okay, little trouble. Wanna tell me what's got your feathers in a fluff?"

"The hell do you care?"

His expression turned emotionless like a poker face, "Maybe I don't." Then he smiled, "Or maybe, I do."

You knew where you'd seen him before now, playing pool inside, "How'd you do with your little side hustle?"

"Oh, I cleaned up," he smirked, he saw you watching him inside. "I'm Dean, by the way... Winchester. And you are?" He asked, keeping his arms crossed against his chest and mirroring you.

"Leaving," you said quietly and unintentionally shoving your shoulder into his as you walked for the exit of the alley.

Fucking Dean Winchester. You knew exactly who he was, you just didn't know what he looked like, until now. Your father warned you to stay away. Said he was the type to shoot first and ask questions later and if he found out you were a nephalem, that's exactly what he'd do.

"Hold up a second, squirt." He called as he jogged after you and grabbed your arm.

Dean yanked you back and you spun around, twisting out of his hold. You smacked him in the chest and he shoved back into the brick wall. Hard. You always forget how fragile humans were, you didn't spend much time with them after all.

He huffed like the wind had been knocked out of his lungs. His eyes wide and watching you. Yeah, you were strong as hell and that was only ten percent. You felt a little bad for the poor guy but he did ask for it. You clearly wanted to be left alone.

"I told you not to call me that!" You growled, pointing your finger in his face. "I don't have time for this."

"Why? Got some mailboxes to knock over?" He teased and rubbed his chest when you backed off. "Oh, please tell me you're gonna spray paint obscene doodles on the billboard across the street... I'll help. Need a lookout?"

If he was flirting, it wasn't landing and if he was teasing, it was pissing you off. You weren't some teenager tagging billboards, even if that jackass CEO, Dick Roman, deserved it. You didn't know why, you just didn't like him or his cheesy smile, but he'd get his, they usually do. 

"What do you want?" You huffed at him, glancing down at his hands just in case. 

You heard the stories of the Winchester brothers. They weren't opposed to sucker punches, especially with an angel blade. Even if an angel blade could hardly hurt you, your mother trained you to always be prepared, vigilant.

"You were asking around about a blonde girl, Claire Novak, I'm a friend of hers. Actually, more like a big brother and I haven't been able to reach her." He confessed and took a step forward, then another and another until you were the one backed up against the opposite wall of the alleyway. "What do you want with her?"

For a human, you had to admit, he was fucking intimidating. His eyes hooded, nostrils flared and you felt his hand fist the collar of your t-shirt. You could easily push him off if you wanted but the brush of his knuckles over your collarbone made your knees knock together and you practically swallowed your tongue.

The feuding blood in your veins quieted as your heart beat a little faster and sweat broke out across your skin. Your lips fell open and you just stared up at him. At a loss for words.

Was this what it was like to feel... human? Desire? Vulnerability?

But you weren't vulnerable, not physically, your power outmatched that of a nephilim. Nephilim had the inconvenience of having to be half-human where that half of you was all demon. Pure darkness and indignation.

Being a nephalem wasn't easy. Especially being the only one ever known to exist. You had to carve your own path.

You had a conscience about the bad things you did and a will to do good, but nothing was ever that simple. You'd do a good deed to appease the angel grace pumping in your veins but it would always turn out sideways. And when you did something bad -perhaps out of selfishness and greed- you'd feel bad.

Demons had it easy. Do what you want, when you want. Angels had it even better though, their good always turned out good. Despite the fact that not all angels were all that good and not all demons were all bad.

If they couldn't figure it out with one blood line, how would you?

You felt like you were constantly at battle with yourself. But, at least, you weren't human.

Compared to the man in front of you, he was like a fly. A gnat. And you'd toy with him for a bit if he could keep making you feel this way.

Calm.

The crimson waters in your veins were quiet -for the first time in sooo long- and all you had to do was look into his eyes. They were hooded in the darkness of the night but you felt it, his soul staring back at you. You often wondered if you had a soul.

Probably, everything else seemed to have one.

Perhaps, not everything about being human was terrible. It beat the hell out of the internal anguish, always fighting with yourself, always angry. And suddenly you never wanted Dean to leave. Even if your father did warn you about him.

Maybe humans were powerful after all. Maybe, it was just this one human.

You grabbed his wrist above his watch -his fist still clutching your collar- and exhaled over his lips, only an inch away from yours. His breathing turned sharp too and you smelt whiskey on his breath. Peach whiskey. You gave him a cheeky smile.

That was a chick's drink.

"Why are you looking for Claire?" He repeated, his eyes somehow darker in the shadow of the night.

"She's my friend," you lied, continuing to pretend he had you right where he wanted you.

It was really the other way around.

"You're friends?"

You nodded, "Yeah, some people have those."

You kind of wished Castiel had told Dean about you. It wouldn't come as such a surprise then. Maybe you could hide it, though, and tag along to find your sister. It could be fun to watch the brothers in action. Plus, everything was so quiet around him. Even in his intensity and you didn't want it to stop.

"Claire doesn't have friends." He stated.

"She has at least one."

He didn't need to know that you were kind of related to Claire, just that you didn't mean her any harm. Most of the time. Sometimes she pissed you off and sometimes you pissed her off.

"Wait, friend as in 'friend'?" He said as if he used air quotes but he didn't let go of your shirt collar to actually make them.

What the hell else did 'friend' mean? -Ohhhh... good for Claire. But gross, she was your sister. You had flashbacks to reading fanfics of Sam-slash-Dean online. Your father told you to stay away, but you were curious and although it may not have proven for the most serious intel on the boys, the stories were captivating. 

You scrunched up your face and stared at him. You couldn't tell him you were sisters. So, you just shook your head.

Dean laughed, "Huh, didn't know that kid could stop pissing people off for a second long enough to make a friend."

You nodded but frowned when he released your shirt collar and took away his hand. If you had wanted him to back off, you would've made him. You kept a hold of his wrist.

"Let go, little devil."

If only he knew how ironic that nickname was. You were the daughter of a demon not Lucifer but, same diff; it was close enough.

You let him go. You didn't want to, but you did.

"Do you know where she is?" You asked, both wanting to keep the conversation going and needing the answer.

"Nope. Was hoping you did."

"The bartender knows something." You mumbled.

You breathed a heavy breath, letting the anger from before defuse a little as it tried to resurface. No losing control this time. Your parents weren't here to help you this time. No cleaning up any messes. You were on your own. Like you wanted.

"Let's go talk to him, then." Dean grinned and patted your shoulder.

His hand slid down to the small of your back as he led you back around to the entrance of the bar. Every ounce of anger flushed away with his touch and you no longer felt that inch of demon blood in your veins.

_____

Dean wiped the blood from his knuckles with a rag from the trunk of a shiny black muscle car parked in the lot. You stood next to him and watched stoically as he did so. He glanced up at you and mistook your awe for fear.

"I'm sorry. I should've warned you when someone messes with my family, I get-" He started in a soft voice but cut himself off before he could finish. "Just sometimes, things get... messy."

Messy?! He beat the ever-loving hell out of that bartender when the guy hit on you again and evaded all your questions... Until he didn't.

Dean was just as fucked up as you were. He was angry and at war with himself, constantly, you could see it. You saw that look in the mirror all the time. He took the bloodiest route to being good. He was all shades of grey, just like you. And you had to admire how much he cared about the people he thought of as family.

"Don't ever let a man disrespect you like that." He locked eyes with you.

Something different in his gaze this time. Warmer and intense. Too intense, you had to look away.

You never did let guys get away with it, but you couldn't exactly go all super-girl on the bartender's ass either with Dean watching, now could you? Super-girl was a hero, though... You weren't the villain but you weren't the heroine either. Maybe an anti-hero, actually? Like Ben Solo? You could live with that.

"So, what now?" You asked, sitting on the edge of the open trunk next to him. "We go to this Haden-guy's cabin in the woods? Sounds like a trap."

The bartender said Claire had her eye on some regular guy all night but never talked to him. Though, she did leave right after he did. That was the only lead we had since this shit-hole had no working security cameras.

"Exactly, that's why we're gonna get Sammy first." He said, tossing the bloody rag into the trunk and securing the hidden hatch shut after pulling out a case of silver bullets.

Sammy, his little brother, you knew as much about the boys as every other demon or angel. You just didn't know how being around Dean would affect you.

"Where's Sam?"

Dean gave you a half smirk and a little shrug of his shoulders, then he winked at you. And what the hell did that mean?

Oh wait, you suddenly remembered seeing a walking L'oreal-ad-of-a-man, matching Sam's description, flirting with the waitress before stomping out to the back alley to have your little temper tantrum like a child. You blew off steam though without hurting anyone so you weren't embarrassed. That was a win in your book.

"I'll go get him, you wait here." Dean said, cocking his freshly loaded gun with silver bullets and tucking it into the back of his jeans. "Don't disappear on me, little devil."

You smiled, actually starting to like that nickname as you watched him walk towards the motel across the parking lot. He knocked on room number sixteen and waited a long moment before he pounded harder on it.

You stretched out your legs and pushed up from the edge of the trunk but something kept your ass in place. Like you were frozen, sort of, you could only move further into the trunk.

Something was wrong.

You glanced back quickly before Dean could notice you struggling to stand up like an ordinary human. You twisted in your seat but there was nothing unusual in the trunk, then you looked up at the lid.

Fucking hell.

There was a demon trap on the upside of the trunk lid. You glanced back at Dean who was now striding back towards you on bowed legs.

Shit. You twisted your arm above you and scratched at the edge of the trap. Glad that the front of the car was facing Dean instead of the back. 

"He'll be out in a minute," Dean said, rounding the back of the Impala just as you snapped up from your seat and slammed the lid shut. He narrowed his eyes on you, "Everything all right?"

"Yeah, peachy." You dusted off the back of your black skinny jeans ungracefully.

"O-kay," he stared at you for a moment as you shifted from heel to heel, "Get in the car."

You walked around to his side of the car, knowing Sam probably had dibs on the passenger seat and opened the rear door. You hesitated and looked inside, checking for more demon traps.

"Something wrong?" Dean asked and you noted Sam exiting the motel room, he walked towards you as he buttoned up his blue flannel and straightened his jeans. "Don't tell me you're scared?"

"Hardly," you said unconvincingly and crawled into the backseat when you didn't see any reason not to.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, Baby here is stocked up like a tank, we can take whatever's waiting for us. Trust me."

He was cocky, wasn't he, but it made you laugh. He had even more artillery than he thought, with you around.

Dean shut the door behind you and dumped himself into the driver's seat, Sam joining only moments later.

"Uh, hi?" Sam said to you, half turned in his seat.

"Hi," you waved shyly.

He was a lot bigger in person. The top of his head nearly hit the roof and his hair was gorgeous and thick. You played with the ends of your hair, wishing you had less split ends. Maybe you should cut it. Also, what kind of all powerful nephalem still gets split ends?! Talk about unfair.

"She's a friend of Claire's." Dean said, revving up the engine and peeling off down the road.

You didn't know how he knew where he was going. You didn't look at any maps with him. Maybe they'd been here longer than you and already surveyed the area? Claire probably called them too, you didn't have a cell phone and relied on her praying to you when she needed you. She didn't always trust you'd show up and she wouldn't have told them about you.

"Does 'the friend of Claire's' have a name?"

Sam asked his brother and side eyed you.

"Yeah, of course she does."

"And?" Sam inquired.

Dean hesitated and chewed his lip as he glanced at you in the rearview mirror. He never asked. "What's your name, little devil?"

Sam screwed up his face and mouthed 'little devil' dubiously to himself. You guessed it wasn't a typical nickname he gave women.

"Y/N."

You didn't give a last name. You supposed you didn't really have one. Castiel and Meg could never settle on one long enough.

"Y/N," Dean repeated in his deep voice. It felt like wings in your stomach to hear him say your name. "You don't look like a Y/N."

"Well, it's the only name I got." You snapped, a little hurt. You liked your name, it was the only thing your parents ever truly agreed on.

Dean chuckled and glanced back in the mirror again. "You’re cute when you're frustrated, Y/N."

The dork was teasing you. He either thought he was funny or flirting, you couldn't tell which. Maybe both, you didn't like it. It was new territory for you. You didn't often bother with humans, but Dean was different. He was a lot like you in many ways and he was -mostly- adorable. When he wasn't intentionally trying to be annoying. 

You blushed -first time that ever happened- and kept quiet for the rest of the drive. Dean explained to Sam what you were about to walk in on and they already seemed to know it was werewolves so you didn't bother to pipe up.

The woods were dark and the sound of wind eerily howled through the treetops. You'd have shivered if you were scared at all but you couldn't be harmed, not really. Someone would really have to get the drop on you for that to happen. And what else was there to be scared of?

You only worried about Dean. It was nice having him around. You realized now why your father liked him so much. You didn't know Sam all that well, though and he kept giving you ‘off’ glances as if he was trying to figure you out. As if he knew you were hiding something.

Barbie doll was too smart for his own good.

"Here, take this?" Dean said, shoving a silver gun in your hands after he'd parked down the road from Haden's cabin.

"Uh-" you held it between your forefinger and thumb, as if you really didn't want to hold it. You never used a gun before. You never had to and you rather not. "I'm good, thanks."

You tried to hand it back to him before it went off. As if it was that touchy. He just stared at you confused.

"You need something to defend yourself. You have done this before, right? Hunting? You're a hunter?"

"Yeah, totally!" You over sold it.

Sure, you hunted before, but you used your powers and let’s face it, nothing was ever a challenge. Even a pack of werewolves couldn't take you. You could fight and hold your own but you never needed a gun.

But how could you tell Dean that?

You stared at the gun, still holding it in the air between you and he sighed, "Here, hold it like this."

Dean stalked behind you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. You felt his chest on your back and you leaned back into him. Looking over your shoulder at his face next to yours. He let out a single puff of air, amused, and turned your head forward again with his hand on your chin.

His scruff brushed your cheek as he lined up the gun in both of your hands in front of you. You smelt sweet peaches on his breath again and melted in his arms as much as you could without him really noticing.

"Finger off the trigger. This hand-" he grabbed your non-dominant hand and wrapped it around the other already gripping the gun, "-goes here. Keep your thumb there." He pointed to the switch next to your thumb, "Safety's on," he switched it off, revealing a red dot in its place, "Off. Line up this point with this one." He pointed out the sights of the gun. "Never point it at anyone you don't plan on shooting. Got it?" 

"Got it," you breathed. 

Dean switched the safety back on and let you get used to the feel of it in your hands. You could use this hunk of metal one time, you guessed. 

If a human could then why not? You were superior in every way. Super-powered anti-hero in human disguise to the rescue! 

It was quiet outside in the woods as you inched towards the cabin. And before you knew it, you were inside searching for signs of Claire when you heard the boys bashing around in the other room. Grunting and smashing into things. Glass breaking and shots firing.

You had split up and with no sign of Claire you made your way back to them to help out. Finding Dean pinned by three werewolves while Sam fought off one with another on his back trying desperately to bite his neck.

The pack was bigger than the boys anticipated. And brawling. 

You didn't expect aiming the gun to be so difficult and after missing the first couple shots -hitting the drywall in front of Sam and scaring the shit out of him, which he showed with a glare in your direction and a shout of 'Stop helping!'- you aimed again. At the werewolf on Sam's back and shut your eyes.

You squeezed the trigger fast three times then listened as a body fell to the floor.

Thump.

You grit your teeth together, hoping and praying and peeled open your eyes.

Sam was still standing. Thank granddad. Dean would've hated you for friendly fire. You aimed at the werewolves standing over Dean next and emptied the rest of the clip into them. 

They fell to the floor and Dean fought off the last one as Sam finished off the other. 

Then things were silent again. 

"Holy shit! Good shootin', little devil." Dean laughed and fell against the wall to catch his breath. 

Sam just clenched his jaw and glared at you. 

What was his problem? Did he know you closed your eyes? You aimed better that way anyways. 

"Where's Claire?" Sam grunted and rubbed his neck where the werewolf had tried to bite him. But his hand was covered in blood, "Dammit."

"What?" Dean asked, standing tall and glancing at Sam's hand. "You're bit?... Sammy?!" 

Dean's hands were in his hair and he spun around on his heel in disbelief. Then stalked over to his brother and pulled aside Sam's shirt collar.

"No. Fuck, no!" Dean shouted and punched the wall next to them. 

Then he threw the only lamp left standing across the room. It shattered in his fit of rage and he pulled down the bookcase for good measure. 

You set down your gun and padded over to Sam. Sam, eyeing you the whole time with zero trust in his stare. You popped up on your tiptoes and pulled him down by his shoulders to whisper in his ear. 

"Close your eyes." 

Sam furrowed his brow while Dean was busy hyperventilating in the corner. Rubbing his hands all over his face and scrolling through contacts on his phone, probably trying to find some non-existent cure.

But Sam was bit and Sam would turn if you didn't do anything.

"Trust me for one minute. What do you have to lose?" You whispered again and Sam let his eyes fall shut.

You placed your palm over the bite and channelled your energy into healing him. A blue light pulsed from your hand and Sam hissed. It probably stung like a bitch. But it beat turning into a werewolf and having to munch on cow hearts just to survive.

You wiped away the blood from his neck with your sleeve, inspecting your work. The skin was perfectly smooth like the wolf's fangs never punctured through.

You smiled, finally something went the way you planned. Doing good felt good, when it went right.

"How do you feel?" You asked just to make sure.

"Better, I guess." Sam's eyes fluttered open and met yours. His gaze of hazel softer than before, though still hesitant. "Thank you, I think."

"No biggie. Just a little spell I picked up over the years." You shrugged. You didn't think the boys noticed the lie.

Them thinking you dabbled in witchcraft was probably safer than them knowing the truth. At least for now.

Dean stood up, hanging up his phone mid-ring and walking over to Sam to check out his no longer existent wound. He glanced at you and you noticed his itchy trigger finger at his side.

"You're a witch?" Dean accused as if you kicked his puppy.

"No."

"Bullshit! That wasn't elementary magic, Y/N!" He shouted but still didn't raise his gun.

"Dean, calm down, man. She saved my life." Sam said, stepping partially in front of you. "Just this once, don't freak out how you always do."

Huh, save his life once and the big guy's already on your side. A turn of events you didn't see coming. Maybe there was more to him than just barbie doll hair and fault-finding glares. He knew you were hiding the truth but he didn't seem to care anymore.

"Shut it, Sam." Dean gave his brother a sideways look. "You know how I feel about witches. Blood sacrifices, hex bags and bones everywhere. There's always a price with them."

He gestured towards you and you scowled back at him. Not only a little hurt because you just said you weren't a witch but also because... didn't he feel what was between you, too? Or was it all one sided?

Maybe you should've let Sam die. He'd still think you were human then. You could've hidden that part of you forever. Or, at least, until he started to notice you weren't aging.

But, no, Sam was cool. You were glad you saved him. Maybe you could erase Dean's memory of the past five minutes. You never tried that before but it should be possible, right?

"'M not a witch," you mumbled and watched your boots. "I'm not bad, I want to be good."

That was true. It was the most honest you'd been with a human or anyone ever and you really wanted Dean to like you. Maybe this was the way to go. With honesty.

"I could've hurt you. I could've killed you both." You glanced up and met Sam's hazel eyes then Dean's green ones. "And I wouldn't need the gun to do it."

It was a bit of a threat, but an honest one. And they both seemed to get the weight of your words when neither one of them looked away. They looked anxious like they didn't want to be caught off guard by your next move.

"I'm on your side as long as you're on mine-" you cut yourself off thinking you heard something.

There it was again. Like a banging in the distance. Did they hear it too? You furrowed your brow when you noticed Dean was speaking.

"What do you-"

"Shh," you cut him off and titled your head towards the noise to hear better.

Dean took a couple steps towards you. A glint in his eye.

"Did you just shush me, little dev-"

"Shhhhhh!" You shushed, pressing your palm over his mouth and listening intently.

Dean raised his eyebrows and you felt a smirk tug at his lips, which he clearly failed to hide and Sam huffed out a laugh at the scene.

"Do you guys hear that?" You asked but didn't remove your hand from Dean's mouth so he just shook his head.

"What is it?" Sam inquired.

Dean rolled his eyes and muttered something muffled. You flattened your hand over his mouth more and he groaned but didn't move away. He looked silently amused. Maybe, even... turned on?

"Claire," you said and the boys' eyes widened.

You walked away from them, towards the back of the house and then outside. Sam followed first, nearly tripping over your heels as you led him towards a shed at the edge of the property. Where the banging got louder to the point where you knew they could hear it too.

Dean came up from behind, all man-on-a-mission like, and pushed you both aside. He tried the door knob and when it didn't budge he proceeded to throw his body against the door. But it was sturdy as hell and he was only human.

You put your hand on his shoulder to stop him. Dean puffed hard and gave you a questioning look.

You punched out the deadbolt and twisted the knob until it gave way and the door slowly pushed open.

You smiled up at him and held out your hand as if to say, after him.

Let him go first. Let him feel useful.

He puffed out his chest and squared his shoulders. Silly, little human... but cute, silly, little human.

Dean took the opportunity and entered first, gun drawn. Sam next. Then you padded in afterwards, seeing Claire tied to a chair that was bolted to the ground.

Her wrists were bloody and raw and her nose looked busted. You scrunched up your face, hating seeing her hurt like that and waited for Dean to first untie her before you made your way over to her. 

Claire ripped the duct tape from her mouth, "About time you showed up," she snapped at you. 

"You were supposed to wait for me." You growled back, already feeling that anger bubble up within again. "Ungrateful, little-"

"Thank you." 

She must've seen the surprise on your face and started laughing. 

"It's way too easy to bust your balls, Y/N, lighten up a little, would you?" She smiled and you saw the blood dripping from her nose and staining her teeth. "I'm starving. Got anything to eat?"

Sisters are a pain in the ass. You didn't care if you were supposed to love her. She was beyond difficult and she knew it. But, you did still love her.

You touched her forehead, fingertips humming and glowing blue for a moment as you healed her. You didn't care if the boys saw, they already knew something was up.

And after everything, you wouldn't be so easily dismissed if they decided you were a threat. Dean was yours -you decided- but you wouldn't force him even if you could make his life a living hell if he didn't want to be a part of yours. You needed him to keep those parts of you quiet and he was damaged, too. He could use you, too. You could help him; help each other. You could try. But would he let you? If not, maybe you could be satisfied with just checking up on him from time to time. 

You hesitated a glance up at Dean, expecting contempt in his eyes. You should probably leave, take the memory of the way he calmed you and use that as an anchor, don't sully it with the look he'd give you now. Or when he found out what you were -who you were. But you couldn't stop your eyes from finding his. And you couldn't decipher the look.

"I need a drink," Dean started, "and a burger." He looked at Claire, "I'm phoning Jody." Then back to you, "And we're gonna talk about this. All of it."

You nodded and waited for them to lead the way back to the Impala. You hung back with Claire.

"Do they know?" Claire whispered over to you.

You shook your head, feeling what could only be described as bubbles in your stomach. You decided it must be butterflies. You never had them before now.

What was Dean doing to you?

The more he looked at you the more you felt the way humans were supposed to feel. But you didn't think you were changing at all, not on a molecular level, anyways.

"Are you gonna tell them?" She asked.

You shrugged, you didn't want to talk about it, you didn't want to think about it. Claire didn't seem to understand and continued. As sisters do.

"Do you want me to talk to him? Maybe Castiel could-"

"No." You answered flatly.

Your mess, your problem. You didn't want your father cleaning things up for you again. Although, this time things were different, cleaner. You could keep it that way. You wouldn't hurt them and you wouldn't force them.

You wouldn't use your powers against them at all; you promised yourself.

"Cass?" Dean overheard and turned around to walk backwards. "You know Cass?"

Fucking Claire.

Don't lie. Don't lie. Don't lie... -Okay, little lie. Tiny little white lie. Teeny-weeny. 

"No-"

"-Yes." Claire answered at the same time as you.

Fucking sisters, you scowled to yourself.

"A little," you corrected yourself.

That wasn't a lie, was it?

"Mmm," Dean sighed and pointed. "No more lying, little devil."

"Oh, for the love of-" Claire exhaled way harder than necessary. She had less patience than you. You would've thought she was half demon. "He's her father!"

"Claire!" You growled.

Don't kill her. Don't kill her. Do not kill her!

You glared.

Inhale. Exhale.

Dean stopped dead in his tracks, you didn't notice until you ran face first into his chest.

"Ouch," you grumbled and rubbed out the pain from your nose.

You were all powerful, sure, but you still felt pain. And your eyes watered.

"Your Cass' kid?" Dean grabbed your shoulders and really looked at you. "How?"

You didn't look much like your father. You had Y/H/C hair and raven eyes. If it weren't for the whites around your eyes you could pass as a demon even when you didn't lose control. That was the main reason everyone was always scared of you. You looked -you laughed at yourself- like a little devil.

You could act like an angel a hundred percent of the time and as soon as they found out you were part demon and nephalem, not nephilim, they'd only see that and scatter.

Bite the bullet. Come clean. But if Dean didn't like you as a witch then-

"Remember Cass had that demon girlfriend?" Claire continued, as always, not minding her own damn business.

"Meg?" Sam asked, he'd stopped too.

The fucking car was right there. Thirty feet away! So close, yet might as well be an ocean away.

"So, you're a nephalem?" Sam asked again.

Did this guy live in a monster library?! Seriously, didn't he know someone with such great hair shouldn't be a total nerd, too. Like give the less L'oreal-inclined a chance, for crying out loud.

You didn't know what to say. You couldn't deny it and you refused to defend yourself to measly humans who'd probably still judge you by your eyes despite anything you said.

So, you nodded. And you realized Dean was still clutching your shoulders, a little tighter now that you noticed.

"Cass and Meg?" Dean said aloud like he was trying to process the information but his brain wouldn't let him.

You didn't dare move a muscle, not because you were scared but because you were scared of scaring them off. So, you just kept your eyes on his green orbs. Willing him to feel anything other than contempt for the demon blood inside you. 

How did puppy dog eyes go again? Castiel taught you it in case you ever came across the Winchester brothers. He said it would come in handy as opposed to using your powers. Not everything had to be taken by force. Not everything had to be a feat of strength. 'Sometimes honey works better than vinegar', he told you.

You ran down the checklist in your mind: (1) tilt your head down, (2) soften eyebrows, (3) look through your lashes, and (4) open your eyes just a fraction more -but not too much or you look surprised, not adorable. We want adorable. Oh! And (5) -this one was optional- pout your lips. This step was always a fail for you, though... you disregarded it and followed through with the rest.

Sam was soulless once and Dean still loved him. You had a soul, you thought, would he see it in your raven eyes?

Claire broke the silence, slicing through the thick air with her loud voice, "She has a temper sometimes, but she's never hurt anyone that didn't deserve it. Can you guys say the same about yourselves?" What was she doing? You knew they couldn't, that's one reason your father wanted you to stay away. "Because I can't."

"So you're part angel, part...?" Dean asked, his hand sliding over your cheek to brush at the skin under your eye.

Puppy dog look was working! That never happened before! You were giddy inside but kept the look, letting him explore the depths of your eyes, letting him see everything.

"Part demon."

"No human?"

"Not enough to count."

There was a fraction of you that was human. The equivalent to a 0.0001 percent on an ancestry test.

When you were a child you wanted to be human, you refused to use your powers even and asked your parents if you could go to school with the other kids. But you grew faster than them so you weren't allowed.

That's partially why it's taken so long to learn your powers, why you stayed with your parents until now and you still struggled with keeping control; because you kept them caged up for so long, like a wild animal and now they raged against you with any strong emotion. Pain, pleasure, fear, anger, anything in excess was a trigger.

"So, 'little devil', huh? You must've had fun with that one." Dean chuckled and you placed your hand over his still cupping your cheek.

His skin was warm on yours but, funny thing was, you never felt cold until you felt him.

"You have no idea." You smiled sweetly.

Again, not the daughter of the devil but demon was close enough. Lucifer was kind of your grandfather by creation, or your uncle? Both? You didn’t know, those things were hard to keep track of and you weren’t on speaking terms anyways. 

"Do you eat?" Dean asked.

You shrugged, "Sometimes."

"But you don't have to, do you?"

"No." You admitted and looked away. "I do love anything with cheese, though. Cheese is the greatest thing your kind ever invented... food wise."

"Really? Not chocolate?" Claire gaped.

"Umm," you thought about it, "it's a close second."

Dean laughed with a warm smile, "Let's get you something cheesy, then."

You beamed.

You honestly didn't expect Dean to react this way. You thought it probably had a lot to do with Castiel being your father. They seemed close, in the past. Or you were getting played, big time.

Let him try something if that's what he was up to. He couldn't hurt you and chances were if he could, he wouldn't know how tonight. They'd have to research since even you didn't know your weaknesses, there wasn't much lore on the matter. 

You wanted to trust Dean and it was kind of fun to play human while you were around them so you tagged along to the restaurant. 

Claire frowned and pouted as she ate her pasta forcefully. You thought she bit her fork once but kept going. There was sauce all over her chin. 

Dean had called Jody on the ride to the diner and Jody chewed her out over not waiting for backup. She deserved it, but it was a little harsh.

Claire saved a couple of kids from that shed before she got nabbed. It wasn't just that she let her guard down. She did good.

You didn't tell her that, though. It would only enable her and if anything happened to her you knew your father would be upset. She was a small human, not incapable but there was an advantage to being either powerful, like you, or big and strong like Dean and Sam.

"Earth to Y/N." Dean waved a hand in front of your face.

You didn't realize you'd been staring at his forearms, the sleeves of his flannel rolled up just enough for you to see his muscles move as he ate his cheeseburger. Sam had a salad, what the hell? Didn't a moose need more fuel?

"How's your poutine?"

"Pure cheesy goodness." You sighed and picked out another fry, twirling the melted cheese onto the end of it and sticking it between your lips.

You hummed at the taste. When Dean asked if you'd ever tried poutine and you said 'No', he completely flipped out and demanded you order it. There were no regrets but your mind was wandering with him sitting right in front of you. There was nowhere else to look and he was a masterpiece. 

Sam had his perks, too, his shoulders were massive and you never noticed things like that on humans before but you think you liked that. Big shoulders. Dean had them, too. Must run in the family. 

You sucked the gravy from your fingers and let out a slow breath with a little sigh. It sounded like a light moan.

"Y/N," Claire hissed and elbowed you and you saw her blush. "Can't you be normal? One time?"

You pouted -not really sure what the big deal was, it wasn't that loud- and picked up another fry. It's been a while since you ate anything, since you didn't really need to eat anything and it tasted really good.

You held up the fry, sticking out your tongue and sucking the melted cheese thread from the end of it into your mouth. You circled the tip of your tongue, collecting the thread until the fry met your lips and Claire jabbed you in the side again. 

You glared at her, muttered a 'What?!' and rolled your eyes. 

"Enjoying yourself?" Dean asked, his gaze heavy and his food left abandoned on his plate as he watched you.

"Mhm. Want some?" You offered innocently and sucked the gravy from your thumb.

"No. I'm having fun watching you, little devil. Keep going." He said and wet his bottom lip.

What did he just say?! You blushed. Hard.

You absolutely loved the butterflies he made come to life in your chest and stomach. Yeah, you were keeping him.

"Here. Just use this," Claire shoved the unused fork next to your plate at you. "And stop moaning, for fuck's sake."

"Sorry," you grabbed the fork and stuck it into a couple of fries. "Happy now?" You asked sarcastically, demonstrating the use of a fork by shovelling it into your mouth like Claire had done with her pasta.

You pouted to yourself, it tasted better with your fingers. That was weird, though, right? Next time you'd get it to go and eat alone in your motel room the way you wanted. 

You'd given up on being normal a long time ago. Weird was your forte. You were Castiel's daughter, after all, and Castiel was the king of weird. He made it cool. 

Your father brought you up to love yourself and Claire was just being Claire. Sometimes you got along and other times, you didn't. You thought having the boys here kind of put her on edge, too. Like she wanted them to approve of her and by extension, you. 

You had an inkling Dean approved of your eating methods, though. Maybe not Sam, even if he was all shades of red right now, and avoiding all eye contact, and he kept shifting in his seat like he was uncomfortable. It was funny. 

_____

Dean refused to stay at the motel near the dive you met him at -the closest motel in town- and instead drove for two hours to the next one. Which didn't look a whole lot better. It could only have, like, maybe half a star more than the last place. 

You had a room all to yourself, as did Claire and the boys shared a room with the two queen beds. In the morning they were set to drive Claire back home to Jody and the others. They wanted to make sure she actually got there and didn't run off again to do something stupid, as usual.

You didn't think it would matter, she would do whatever she wanted as soon as she got the chance. So, why delay the inevitable? As long as she called when she got in a jam and kept someone up to date on where and what she was hunting, you let her do her thing.

Even if the worst were to happen, you could always bring her back. You successfully resurrected a bird last summer. Castiel tried to explain balancing the universe or something but you didn't understand letting things suffer if you could give them a second chance. 

Like the bird who was minding his own business, pecking for worms in the grass in the rain when this plump house-cat came along and snatched him up. That bird probably had a nest to feed and that cat was just bored. You gave him a second chance. How could that be a bad thing?

That being said, you weren't about to take any strolls through the cemetery to awaken the dead. Even you had your limits. But you'd break the rules for the select few you truly cared about.

You sat on the edge of the bed in your motel room, flipping aimlessly through the five channels on TV. It was late, you were bored and you didn't sleep. You should've told Dean not to bother with a room for you but you didn't want to leave them just yet and he didn't ask.

Three quick knocks came at your door and you checked the digital clock on the bedside table.

Three-O-two A.M.

You shut off the TV -not wanting to watch the weather channel anymore, it was boring and repetitive, but you liked the tune they played in the background over and over- and walked towards the door. You undid the locks and opened the door.

You understood why people in horror movies were usually scared if something like this happened, but when you're nearly invincible, nothing like that really scares you anymore. Other things scared you, though, like if Dean left without you in the morning.

Sure, you could easily find him anywhere he went, but if he didn't want you around... that would be scary. Because, you really liked him and you drew the line at actually forcing yourself on him, even in a friendship.

But there he was, standing in your doorway and looking like he'd just woken up.

"Hey," he rasped, "Can I come in?"

"'Course," you stepped aside and shut the door behind him. "Something the matter?"

"Uh," he brushed his bedhead back in an attempt to comb it and glanced around the room. His green eyes settling on your still-made-up bed. "You don't sleep?"

It was more of a statement but you answered anyway.

"Do angels or demons sleep?" You shrugged and he acknowledged with a nod. "Dean? Are you okay? You look frazzled."

He laughed at your term and hung his shoulders as if you saw right through him and he knew he couldn't hide it with you. He sighed and sat on the edge of your bed, head in his hands.

"I had a nightmare." He swallowed like he was waiting for you to laugh, but you didn't. "It's always the same fucking thing." He continued and you stayed silent, crawling into a spot next to him on the bed. He didn't look at you and exhaled again. "I'm back in that house and it's burning, but I can't find Sammy and my dad's... just -gone. I feel the heat on my skin and in my lungs and I can't breathe… and then, I wake up, and I still can't breathe.” He looked up, finally meeting your eyes. "I don't know why or how, but... I can take a breath around you." He lifted his shoulders and turned towards you. "I had to make sure you were still here."

"I am," you nodded and smiled softly, "Is that a good thing?"

He huffed out a laugh, "Didn't you hear what I just said?"

"Yeah, I'm your inhaler."

"Damn, sweetheart, you really do take after Cass, don't you?" Dean smirked.

You were aware of how clueless your father was with pop culture references, it was something you were working on with him. You supposed you took after him a little, you always liked when people pointed out your similarities, even with your mother, too. Not all stuff demon was bad.

"Like father, like daughter." You shrugged. 

********************************************

When Dean wasn't paying attention -lost in your raven eyes- you hit him in the face with one of your pillows. His face blanched and you giggled and spun away from him. His arms wrapping around your waist before you could hop off the bed.

"Naughty, little devil." He growled in your ear.

You barely hit him! And squirmed against his hold, I'll bet, not hard. You were pretending to be human again. It was nice for a change letting someone else be all powerful. Especially someone like Dean who felt powerless. You could see it in his eyes when he was talking about his nightmare. 

Your back pressed to his chest and you felt his heart beat fast against yours. You liked being in his arms, you never felt so calm with your blood moving as fast as it did. Usually when your heart beat fast it was because you were angry. Demon blood -almost literally- boiling. 

This feeling was so far from that. Your whole body buzzed like it was electrified and tingles curled your toes. Then Dean's palm found the hem of your shirt and snaked up underneath it, laying flat on the skin of your stomach.

Dean groaned and shifted behind you, his bowed legs wrapping around your hips and his arms pulling you with him as he leaned back against the headboard. He breathed hard into your hair and kissed your ear. 

"If Cass knew what I was thinking about his little girl right now..."

"I feel it, too." 

You threaded your fingers through his as he clutched you to him. Dean's grip easing a little as you melted into him. You turned your head to meet him with a slow, soft kiss and then he dropped his forehead to yours. 

You breathed heavy and added, "But stop mentioning my father."

Dean barked out a laugh and turned rosy, "Last time. Promise." And he kissed you again. 

"This is kind of crazy." You panted between kisses, neither of you pushing for more just yet.

"Mmm," Dean agreed, continuing to attack your lips until they felt swollen against his. "Do you wanna stop?"

"Never." You giggled. "Don't stop. Please."

You turned and straddled his lap. Dean brushed the hair from your face as he stared into your eyes. Frozen and lost in their endless depths.

"Your eyes are incredible," he breathed and you shied away. "Don't look away. Look at me."

You exhaled nervously and chewed your lip as you pressed your forehead to his and met his gaze again.

Nobody ever looked at you like that.

His hands on your back roamed up and down, squeezing anything he could get a grip on. His fingertips indenting your skin under your shirt when he held you and shifted his hips down the bed, just enough so you sat in his lap like a puzzle piece, as he leaned his mouth into yours and captured yours lips.

"It feels like you were made for me." Dean groaned and his hands fell to your ass. "We just fit so perfectly together."

He pushed your hips down and his bulge pressed between your legs making you moan softly in his ear. You were both still very clothed but it felt nice to finally fit with someone. Like you knew where you belonged all along.

"I need you." You breathed into his ear, sucking his lobe between your teeth and nibbling. You felt him catch his breath and kissed down his neck. "It feels right with you. Don't leave me, ever."

You knew you were coming on strong but he had to already know what he was getting into. Cass' daughter and a nephalem, stronger than any other being on earth including Chuck. He had to know you weren't some one night thing. He certainly looked at you like you weren't.

"I don't plan to." Dean vowed, tugging the hem of your shirt up.

You let him strip it off of you and he went for your bra next. Covering yourself when he threw the wire beast to the floor. He met your eyes lovingly.

"Don't hide from me, little devil." He murmured and pulled your arms away from your chest. "You're the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes on."

"You really know how to make a girl melt, don't you?" You laughed and hugged him, pressing his cheek to your chest. "Your turn."

You leaned back from him and tugged his shirt over his head. Trailing your fingertips over his anti-possession tattoo while he watched you with lust blown green eyes.

Dean threw you onto your back and climbed over you, ravaging your neck as heat throbbed between your legs. You moaned and felt him pull at your leggings. He tugged them down to your knees and you heard the zipper of his jeans follow.

You pushed the rest of your clothes off with your heels and Dean rid himself of his, then plastered his body back to yours. Feeling every inch of his skin pressed against yours.

He settled between your legs and his green eyes met your raven ones. A smile quirked his lips and he kissed down your chest as he hooked your knee with his arm, spreading you open.

His lips teased your nipple and you whimpered and threaded your fingers through his hair. Tugging when he teased the sensitive flesh with his teeth.

Dean grunted and kissed his way back to your lips. Trailing his moist breath over your skin and sending shivers through your body, down to your toes.

Fuck, he felt good. 

Your body was humming when he nudged between your legs, lining himself up and thrusting inside of you in a single push. You cried out and held his shoulders, feeling him breath deep and his muscles move slowly as he rocked into the apex of your thighs.

Pleasure quickly filled your veins and you latched your ankles around his lower back, keeping him pressed to you. Your breasts flattened against his chest and his thrusts grew faster and stronger as you tried to keep up, moving your hips in time to meet him.

Your hips bumped into his and you felt his tummy tighten against yours as he grew more desperate for you. His hand gripped your ass as he pressed himself more into you and your fingers tangled into his hair at the sensation, pulling the short strands and making him groan.

Fuck, he felt great!

Inside of you, on top of you. You felt grounded like you belonged exactly where you were. Like this was always meant to happen. Like you couldn't contain whatever was building between you. Like you were about to burst in the most unimaginably delightful way.

He grunted in your ear and the heat between your legs blossomed, your eyes rolling behind your lids as you shut your eyes and rode out your orgasm. Holding onto him for dear life.

He was a god among men.

Dean groaned louder, feeling you clench around him as he continued to push into you again and again. Pumping a few more times as he chased his own end and he started to come. He breathed heavy and loud in your ear, burying himself inside you with one final thrust and holding your hip with his hand as you felt warmth spill inside of you.

You didn't know if you could actually get pregnant by being with a human, your body was still flesh and bone to a certain extent, but at the moment you didn't care.

Dean fell onto you, pressing you into the mattress and you held him, tracing circles along his shoulders with your nails and kissing his cheek. He sighed, hot breath in your hair and on your neck and his lips found yours again. Kissing you deep and needy until the urge for air burned your lungs.

"Y/N..." Dean started and puffed against your lips, still trying to catch his breath. "I..."

"What?"

"It's never been that good."

But he shook his head and kissed you again. His kisses soft and pliant, easing as his heart fell back into a steady rhythm.

You did it again about a half hour later. And showered together as the sun rose, barely getting any sleep. Or Dean barely got any sleep. You were sure today would be one of the lucky days that Sam actually got to drive the Impala and you planned to spend the car ride holding Dean as he slept in the backseat. 

********************************************

After dropping Claire off with Jody -whom you got to meet and genuinely liked- you tagged along with the boys to a few other cases along their route back to Lebanon. More than one of those cases taking you way out of the way.

The detour was scenic and pleasant and you weren't in a rush for the road trip to end. You weren't entirely sure it ever ended for them. And you wanted to stick around for a while, find your sea legs and stand on your own, but with them by your side. With him.

The infatuation didn't end in that motel room and neither did the sex. But it was getting harder and harder to find time alone and you were ready for some time with just Dean, a bed and maybe some cheese -not in bed but maybe between romps in it.

The Impala -or Baby, as Dean called her- rolled into Lebanon late in the afternoon and up to a red brick building that looked like a warehouse. This must've been the bunker that your father often talked about. And when the car took the road around the back towards the secret entrance to the underground garage, there he was standing guard outside, just waiting.

Your father. He looked angry -his facial expression never actually changed, but you knew his cues after the years- and he held your eyes through the window of the Impala. Shit.

Castiel stood outside waiting for who knows how long. Trench coat blowing open in the breeze and his tie loosened a bit more than usual.

You might've sent him to voicemail more than a couple of times over the past weeks -after Dean insisted you get a phone to keep in touch- and when you listened to the messages, he wasn't all that thrilled about you hanging around with the boys, especially Dean. And especially since he knew how Dean was with women. You liked to think you were different together, though, it wasn't like you had much luck with serious relationships in the past either. So, you would figure it out together.

It wasn't your father's business but it was clear in his eyes when you stepped out of the car to meet him that he wasn't getting that.

"Cass-" Dean greeted as he climbed out of the car with you, a giant smile plastered on his face as he approached his friend.

Cass glared at him and touched his forehead. Dean instantly fell to the ground unconscious before you had a chance to catch him. Luckily it wasn't pavement so it wasn't a hard landing.

"Was that really necessary?" You snapped at your father.

Sam rushed to park the car and jumped out to check on Dean.

"Cass, what the hell?!" Sam growled, kneeling next to his brother and Cass touched his forehead next.

Sam fell over awkwardly on top of Dean and you thought maybe you should push him off but then your father spoke to you again.

"It's time for you to come home. You had your fun, Y/N." He said and stuck his hands into the pockets of his trench coat.

"I don't want to." You glowered. "You're pissed, I get it, but why are you taking it out on them?"

"Dean can't love you," Cass explained and his blue eyes flicked down to Dean's unconscious face, half hidden under Sam's arm. "He won't ever choose you over his family... over Sam. Me and your mother will choose you every time. Come home."

"I don't need him to choose me over his family, I want to be a part of their unit, I want to grow with them-"

"You can't grow with them, Y/N, you'll watch them grow old until the day they die. You could watch a million generations fly by before you even age a second."

"I don't care! I want him while I can have him! As long as he'll have me." You screamed and your chin trembled so you clenched your jaw tight.

"You'll care in ten years when he gets injured easier, twenty when he starts looking more like your father than your boyfriend-"

"Stop."

"And in thirty years, he'll probably be dead, hunters don't last long, Y/N, especially human ones." Your father vented almost like he wasn't just trying to convince you.

Cass and Dean were close, he wouldn't just let him die. He wouldn't just continue on without him. Dean would impact your father on a deep emotional level before his time came, he already did, you saw it as much as he tried to ignore it. Or not think about it.

"Please. Stop." Your voice was quiet now and Dean started to stir underneath Sam's limp body. "If he can't live forever, I want to be human, too."

You looked up at your father with tears in your eyes. You hardly ever cried and Cass steeled his jaw.

"I'll find a way," you promised yourself and wiped away a tear.

Your father's face fell, like he wasn't expecting that response and breathed out a long sigh, "Your mother isn't going to be happy about this." He shook his head and loosened his tie a little more. "But I'll help you, if you're sure. Because I love you."

Your father would do anything for you even if it broke his heart to do it. There were ways to get the best of both worlds, though. You never tried it but if an angel lost their grace, they turned human. You could siphon your grace and store it for the future, then you could grow old with him for as long as it lasted.

The only problem was the part of you that was demon. You didn't know how that would balance out if you lost your grace. But you'd find a way. 

You hugged your father when you saw his heart breaking and assured him that he wasn't losing you. And who knows, maybe you'd find a way to make Sam and Dean live forever instead, and then you wouldn't have to give up anything.

Dean groaned and pushed at Sam's arm, shifting out from under his little brother's heavy body.

"What the fuck, Cass?" He groaned as he checked on Sam and stood up. He saw you hugging and nodded like he understood, "Guess, I may have deserved that." 

"I'll be watching you," Cass said, squinting his steely blue eyes and pointing between them and Dean. A reference to a movie Dean probably made him watch. "She's my baby, Dean, treat her like she's your Baby." 

He nudged his head towards the Impala and you laughed as you skipped back over to Dean and into his arms. You held him tight around his waist and squeezed until you heard him huff in pain and curse.

You loosened your grip but didn't let him go. You have to squeeze adorable things, everyone knew that; Dean was tough, he could take it.

"Fuck. I don't want to be on either of your bad sides." He admitted and kissed your forehead. "You did good, Cass, she's beautiful... and strong as fuck. Shit, little devil, I think you just cracked my ribs."

Cass quirked an eyebrow at the endearment and you laughed at your father's face turning sour. Then Sam groaned from the ground behind you; which was a good thing, because Dean was going to need backup.

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28

SPN: @hobby27

#dean x nephalem!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x #spn fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #dean spn #dean x nephilim!reader #spn reader insert #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #spn #dean winchester #dean supernatural #supernatural #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean smut

[wandafiction]

You Remember - Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: Small mentions of death, a little sad, fluff, happy ending.

You're standing there shuffling from one foot to the other, going over and over the words as your hands rest behind your back to try and stop you from fiddling with them. It wasn't working very well as you were gently pulling at your fingers, while your teeth pulled at your bottom lip. You close your eyes trying to calm your breathing as a small bead of sweat runs down the side of your face and your heart nearly beats out of your chest, you worry it will break through soon enough. 

A hand on your shoulder makes you jump, opening your eyes and turning your head  to see your brother giving you a soft smile. He pulls your body around to face him, bringing his handkerchief out of his pocket and dabs at your forehead; collecting the small amount of sweat that has started to form. He rolls the handkerchief back up, putting it into his pocket, his hands cupping your face as he brushes your hair behind your ear. 

"Breathe for me." You let out a small huffed laugh, your head bowing in embarrassment at how nervous you are. "In and out. Slow deep breaths." 

You did as you were told, listening to your older brother as he slowed his breathing, placing your hand on his chest to get you to follow. His soft gaze never wavering from yours as you finally start to calm down a bit. You may have been a soldier like him, but your anxiety has always been something you struggle with. Only made worse by the super soldier serum Hydra had recreated and used on you much like your brother, and the amount of names that grow on the list of those killed by your hand. Yet your brother was always there to help, even when he couldn't ever remember who you were due to the mind wiping. 

"Thank you Bucky”, you shake your shoulders out, getting the last of your nervous jitters out of your system as he taps your cheek lightly with a laugh.

"What is an older brother for, eh?" You roll your eyes, giving him a gentle shove. "And technically I'm the older one now, by like 3 years so go take your ego about our age as well." 

"Just because I blipped and you didn't, doesn't mean I'm going to stop teasing you for beating you in being born." Your face scrunches in disgust as he chuckles. 

"Great, now all I'm thinking about is mom giving birth. Bleugh." Your body shivers in slight disgust as Bucky laughs out loud, covering his mouth with his hands 

"Shut up, she's coming." Sam hits both of your shoulders making you roll your eyes as he gives you the once over before nodding and turning his attention to the right. 

You nudge Bucky with your elbow as you turn around, setting your feet shoulder width apart on the floor, taking in a deep breath as you look down at a spot on the floor. You close your eyes for just a second, Bucky's hand on your shoulder giving you one last reassuring squeeze before he stands up straight and sets his attention to the right. 

Once you hear light footsteps you push your back up straight, rolling your shoulders to make your posture as straight as possible: bringing your hands to rest in front of you. The soldier in you showing. Your head slowly turns to the right and you smile when you see Morgan and Nathaniel walking towards you. Morgan is in the red and gold pettled dress she had picked out herself. 

"I'm 6. I'm more than old enough to pick out my own dress." You smile at the memory of the sassy 6 year old who had her nose scrunched at the dress her mom was holding up to her, so it was decided that she could indeed choose whatever dress she wanted. 

Your eyes find Peppers and you nod your head towards her daughter and you get an eye roll in reply that makes you hide a laugh. 

Nathaniel has his tongue poking out the corner of his lips as he concentrates on walking and not dropping the small cushion in his hands. His suit is a simple navy blue with a matching bow tie, with his hair messily styled. You're sure he probably ran when Clint moved towards him with the tub of hair putty. Both of them make their way to the front taking, followed closely by Yelena and Kate. Kate is wearing a black suit and tie while Yelena wears black pants, with a white shirt and grey jacket. Both of you had given her approval to wear the clothes she felt most comfortable in over fitting any sort of wedding attire. They make sure the two young children sit in the right slot, as they both give you a smile and wave, which you instantly do back whispering back a hi. The two best friends move to stand on the opposite end of the stand, sending you a soft nod and smile.

All your concentration is pulled back to the end of the hand built wooden walkway as the song you want to play forever starts playing. You shuffle nervously, licking your lips in anticipation. You just hoped you could even make it 2 seconds without crying. But as soon as you see the white appear from behind the now standing people you feel the tears stinging the corner of your eyes, a wide smile painting itself on your face. 

Her red hair flows over her shoulders freely, two tight braids on either side pulled to the back of her hair loosely. Her eyes brimming with tears as a wide toothy smile shines brightly from the moon that sits in the sky above you, lighting up the small outdoor venue. Her hands hold onto the white and pink rose bouquet as her fingers gently pull at the string that holds it all together. 

You take in every single detail about her. Her beautiful red hair, but you can't lie and say you don't miss the emo phase she had going on. Her hair covered in small white and pink flowers, you assumed it would be cherry blossom one of her favourites. You take in her light and barely notice makeup, just enough to accentuate her already beautiful features. Her green eyes, brimming with tears, look you up and down for a quick second. Taking in your burgundy 3 piece suit, a black tie to match with the initials of three of your friends stitched into the top of your pocket. Her eyes gloss over more, before looking directly into yours. Yours then move down to look at her dress for the first time. 

The lace with flower pattern was the first thing you see, as it hugs the top half of her body in the most beautiful and yet delicious way. The sleeves go all the way down to her wrists where a small thread wraps around her thumbs to keep them in position. Following the pattern all the way down which ends by her knees as it sits under the lace skirt of the dress. You know Wanda wanted simple, but she also loved the idea of the longer skirt. You smile even wider when you realise she found exactly what she was looking for. 

You look to her right where her right arm is looped around the man she considers her father figure at this point: Clint. You bite your lip hiding a small giggle as you see the man just as emotional as you and your fiancé. The two of them make it to the small platform that's been put down on the ground to protect the dress from the grass and dirt. Clint sends you a wink and a pointed glare which you know means don't ever hurt her or I will kill you, before he sits next to his son and Morgan. She passes off the bouquet to Yelena who gets a cheeky wink sent her way from Kate making you huff out a laugh as the woman in front of you giggles, the sound making your heart soar. 

Once she has turned around and settled you take a quick glance to Peter who you had asked to officiate for you. The memory of his excitement makes you laugh, his ramble of happiness as he bounced from wall to wall (literally) will forever be a moment you remember. He nods towards the woman this day is about, with a small smile and you do as he is quietly telling you and look to the love of your life. 

You get lost in her green eyes as she takes your hands in hers. You think back to how you got here through all the heartbreak of losing your friends Tony, Steve and Natasha, who was basically your sister at the end of the day. The three of their initials, the ones on your pocket. You think back to the day Vision rescued her from Sokovia and placed her in your arms as he still didn't understand human emotion and how he knew that you would be someone to help her. 

You remember her crying into your neck as you held a private ceremony, just the two of you, for Pietro when she was strong enough to finally say goodbye. You remember the first time you saw her enter the room with a smile on her face. It lit up when she saw you. It was the first time she had smiled for being happy and not forcing one. You remember the day she came to you and told you all her feelings, spread them out on the table. She let you know she was confused with what she was feeling towards you, never having felt it for another woman before and it makes both you and her laugh every time you bring it up. You remember the time she took you to the roof of the compound and asked you to be her girlfriend, after 2 months of going on dates and helping her figure herself out.

You remember the day you proposed was the same day half the universe disappeared. 

You remember feeling the anguish and at a complete loss. 

You remember shutting yourself off from everyone apart from Natasha, the last person left that you felt comfortable with after the blip. The five years helped to cement the fact that she was most definitely your sister to you.

You remember helping Clint with his mission as Ronan. 

You remember the day he came back without Natasha. The same day Tony gave his life for the greater good. 

You remember the day Bucky lost his best friend because he selfishly stayed with Peggy, but you can't really blame him. If you were in his situation you would like to think you wouldn't have done it, but deep down you know you would. You love her too much to ever leave her in the past if that was ever a possibility.

You remember the moment you spotted red magic in the middle of the final fight. You remember the way she ran to you, with tears in her eyes and falling into your embrace as she apologised for ever leaving. You remember the way you had to remind her she didn't leave by choice, she had been snapped. You remember the emotional kiss you two had shared. You remember her comforting you at Tony's funeral. You remember her helping you to go and see Natasha's grave where you ended up meeting Yelena. 

You remember the way, a year after almost everyone came back, how she asked for your hand in marriage. You remember the way you laughed out a yes saying you had already asked. You remember the way she pulled out a ring and said well this makes it official. You remember the way she held your hands in hers as you both just held each other, thankful to have her back in your arms because even after a year you still had to remind yourself she was really there. 

You blink rapidly, a few tears escaping, as you bring yourself back from the memories Wanda smiling widely as her eyes move left to right to look in yours. You nod in understanding that your thoughts must be loud, and when she gives you a small giggling, ignoring the looks of confusion from everyone. This is a moment you know you will remember forever. When her soft voice, filled with her Sokovian accent, reaches your ears your eyes finally and officially focus back on all of her. 

"There you are my love." 

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda x you

[titaniasfairy]

Stepbro!Sam or just Sam in general is making me go crazy, AND HIM WITH A KNIFE/CHOKING KINK?!?! SIGN ME RIGHT THE FUCK UP 😻😻😻

ABSOLUTELY

18+ MDNI

cw: stepbro!sam, sub!sam, gn!reader, choking, handjob

sammy especially loves it when you choke him :(

just think about sitting on top of him, jerking his cock off while your grip lays firm on his exposed neck.

his back is arching and your fingers start to leave marks on his pale pretty neck, all while your hand is stroking him so well!!!

sam’s eyes are squeezed shut, taking in the throbbing sensation your grip gives him, and how it goes straight to his cock. his mouth is wide open, letting out little moans of pleasure.

“f-fuck! please let me cum i swear i’ll be good!”

the words sound so foreign coming from your step brother’s mouth. he’s always sassy with you, telling you to fuck off of get lost. but now he’s below you, bucking his hips into your hand that’s coated with his precum.

“if i let you cum, you have to do my laundry for a week.”

“f-fuck! fine!”

#bear rambles #sam monroe smut #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe #hayden christensen

[casdeans-pie]

We should have had more scenes of Cas using his super strength

as a treat

Helping the brothers with cases by just casually lifting heavy objects, opening tombs..... he does it effortlessly but still has a sassy little roll of his eyes when Dean asks him to do this stuff

We were robbed of a scene where Cas is digging down to some bones in a particularly tough patch of old dirt, and it's so tough that even he's struggling - he's taken off his coat and jacket, and he's rolled up his shirt sleeves

and Sam's like, Dean we should help

and Dean's like, no no he's uh- he's doing great 😳🔥🔥🔥

#i have so many feelings about the writers casual disregard for all of Cas' cool angel powers #*slams hands on table* #let the angel use his powers #castiel #destiel #deancas #destiel headcanon #castiel headcanon #spn

[desceros]

Okay PLEASE I have to know your opinion-

So you know how sometimes you look at people and just like- yeah, they’d be a golden retriever for sure. Or a chihuahua.

If the Rise Turtles were a dog breed, what breed would you think they would be? I’m definitely seeing Donnie as a herding dog wanting everything to be organized his way, Leo as a guard dog, Raph would definitely be a giant ass clumsy dog breed that doesn’t realize how big he is. Mikey has got to be some type of hyper terrier of sorts.

fascinating question!!! behold the power of an autistic person who loves dogs and tmnt

donnie: dachshund

wow sam favorite breed for favorite turtle OK LISTEN THO!!! dachshunds are sooo smart but stubborn as hell and want to do things Their Way. picking up a new toy and instantly playing with it so hard it explodes into fluff. taking direction well but only if you have a good relationship with them and they trust you. sassy attitudes, a penchant to attach themselves to one or two people and be distant to others, looks great in cute clothes, a fragile back that needs protecting--DRINK THE KOOLAID!!!

leo: akita

so this one was actually also very easy for me. akita are very much Family Over Everyone Else, and i always see leo as being very protective of his brothers (to a self-destructive point even). they don't trust other dogs or animals (much like leo doesn't trust other mutants or yokai), but when it comes to their people, they're goofy little goobers that love to play and have fun and snuggle. they're super smart, but need good training in order to achieve their potential, otherwise they'll have a tendency to do their own thing and that never ends well. wow who put this picture of leonardo hamato in the akc handbook

raph: great dane

i was torn on this one thinking some kind of livestock guardian dog at first since he worries about his brothers so much and always puts their safety first. only problem is a lot of them are bred to have mild temperaments, and, uh, [gestures at raph]. for that reason, i settled on the great dane. they're guardian dogs who care intensely for their family and are very, very sweet. but their large size and caution against strangers is quite intimidating, and they need to be properly trained against being aggressive to strangers. also, yknow, big.

mikey: pumi

pumi are well-known small dogs that are work-hard, play-hard dogs with the CUTEST curly hair. sound familiar? they're pretty good at watching the family, but often times they're a bit too busy bouncing off in the corner because these dogs are like. adhd in canine form. always need stimulation. always need exercise. gotta bounce move play bark play run RAZZ MATAZZ. also they're cute and mikey is cute.

#ask tag #FASCINATING QUESTION THANK YOU!!

[nox140497]

Being Colby Brocks Baby Sister Headcanons

Prompt: No.

Request: - Yes.

Summery/ Request: Can you do Colby Brock x adopted 13 year old sister reader (she is half South African and half Brazilian and has tan skin) with ADHD headcannons and has similar personality to Rory keaner from Mbav and Richie Tozier from IT 2017 and she's very very sassy and and when Colby is running after her when she runs away she runs faster than a cheetah and is hyper and can roast people + humbles people like how north west does to Kim K and when Colby or everyone yells at her for doing something she tries not to laugh and stays chill and calm and she's fearless and brave and when Colby and sam + his friends when they're at the haunted house and they tell her to do something embarrassing she does it + how his friends (sam,Tara,jake,Corey, johnnie and brennen) + Colby would react to her and think of her.

Pairings: Big brother Colby Brock x little sister reader

Author's Note: This didn't take as long as I thought it would. I'm not completely happy with how this one ended up, but here you go. Also, so I messed up a bit and can't find the original ask, and I can't remember who sent it, but here you go. Thank you for the request. I hope you like it

Masterlist

Prompt List

--------------‐-----------------------------

Colby's always been the baby of the family.So when his parents decided to adopt a 13 year old girl, he wasn't sure how to feel about it.

But as soon as he met her, he knew she was going to bring a lot of energy and sass into their lives.

The girl's name was Y/N, and she was half South African and half Brazilian. She had tan skin, curly dark hair, and big brown eyes that were always filled with mischief.

Colby (and later his ftiends too) was very interested in learning about her heritage and all of the different traditions that went with it.

Y/N had been diagnosed with ADHD at a young age, and it was clear that she had a similar personality to both Rory Keaner from 'My Babysitter's a Vampire' and Richie Tozier from 'IT 2017'. She was sassy, hyper, and had a knack for roasting people with her quick wit. She was also quick to put you in your place if you were being stupid or mean.

She often used this to defend her new big brother from people who tried to bully him.

Y/N was fearless and brave, never afraid to speak her mind or try new things. And she was also incredibly fast. Whenever Colby tried to catch her when she ran away, she would sprint faster than a cheetah, always managing to stay one step ahead of him.

Once she started going on adventures with him and Sam he had to chase her down alot...

But despite her wild and energetic nature, Y/N had a kind heart and always humbled people with her words, just like North West does to her famous mother, Kim Kardashian.

Colby's friends were apprehensive about her at first, not really sure what to make of her.

Sam, I feel, would be the first to warm up to her. Also, he likes the fact that she causes Colby almost the same amount of chaos as what Colby causes him...

I feel like Jake would get along the best with her when he's warmed up to her. The reason for this is I think their hyper energies would just compliment one another, and they'd love paying pranks on each other and the others... Mostly Colby...

Tara loves her, too. She likes how honest and witty she is.

Johnnie gets along with Jake so I'm sure he'd get along with her as well.

Corey likes to play pranks on everyone with her. She comes up with the BEST prank ideas. She's also a pretty good dancer, so he likes to dance with her.

Brennen gets along with her. He thinks she can be a little childish sometimes, but hey, she's 13.

All in all they were all eventually rather taken with her. They loved her sassy attitude and her fearless nature. They were also impressed by her ability to stay calm and chill, even when someone was yelling at her for doing something mischievous.

Colby says he sometimes thinks that they like her better than they like him.

One day, Colby and Sam decided to go to a haunted house and take Y/N with them as well as taking a few other friends. Y/N, of course, was ecstatic about the idea and couldn't wait to explore the spooky place. As they walked through the dark corridors, their friends dared Y/N to do something embarrassing. Without hesitation, she accepted the challenge and did it with confidence and sass.

Colby and his friends couldn't help but laugh at Y/N's fearlessness and her ability to always stay true to herself. They admired her for being unapologetically herself and never letting anyone dull her shine.

Y/N had quickly become a beloved member of their group, and they couldn't imagine their lives without her.

As for Colby, he was grateful to have Y/N as his adopted sister. She had brought a whole new level of fun and excitement into his life, and he couldn't wait to see what adventures they would embark on together in the future.

Y/N was not only his sister but also his best friend, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

#colby brock x y/n #colby brock #sam and colby #xplr #colby brock x sister reader

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x F! reader

Description: The boys and reader come to the aid of Sam's old college buddy after he is accused of a murder he swears he didn't commit. They discover a shapeshifter is adopting the likenesses of others and murdering people.

Warnings: cannon violence, not my GIF, shapeshifters, teasing, tension 🤭, choking, kidnapping, mentions and usage of guns, being tied up, murder

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose, @ada--44

Word Count: roughly 8,000

(Not my GIF but we can still appreciate it)

Skin

(Master list, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter)

The Impala comes to a stop in front of a gas pump, the slightly warmer breeze of late February brushing through the car as Dean opens his door, half sitting out the door.

“Alright, I figure we’d hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight.” Dean announces. I hum in agreement with a little nod of my head, Dean looks back at me in acknowledgment and then at Sam, who has given no response or recognition.

He rolls his eyes, “Sam wears women’s underwear.”

“I’ve been listenin’, I’m just busy.” Sam shrugs his brother off, looking down at his PalmPilot.

“Busy doin’ what?” Dean shoots back.

“Reading e-mails.” Sam says simply, not even bothering to look up. Dean gets out of the car and rounds it, beginning to fill the tank with gas, “E-mails from who?”

“From my friends at Stanford” Sam replies.

“You’re kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?” Dean scuffs.

“Hey I don’t see anything wrong with that” I chime in truthfully.

“Well, what exactly does he tell ‘em?” Dean switches his gaze to Sam now, “You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?”

“Thank you Y/N.” Sam begins with before actually answering Dean's questions, “I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother and best friend. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.”

“Oh, so you lie to ‘em.” Den acknowledges.

“That’s not technically lying, he's just not giving all the details” I point out.

“Yeah, that’s still called lying. I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin’ the truth is far worse.” Dean responds.

“So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?” Sam asks, Dean shrugs, “You’re serious?” he adds.

“Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.” Dean states.

“Okay well, what about Y/N? We’ve known her for a long time but she’s not blood related, and I'd say you’re pretty close to her.” Sam brings up smiling to himself as if he knows he won, before quickly adding, “No offense Y/N.”

“Non taken” I answer, curious to hear Dean's response.

Dean goes quiet, just staring at his younger brother with big eyes and a tight jaw as if to tell him to stop. Finally he answers, mumbling, “That’s different.”

Without missing a beat Sam immediately follows up with, “How so?”

This time Dean really doesn't answer, just kind of looks awkwardly around. Realizing he won’t get an answer Sam adds, “Exactly.”

Dean rolls his eyes, half turning away to check how much longer he has to be there for.

Suddenly Sam speaks up again, except this time without his cocky smile and sassy attitude, “God….”

Dean turns back ‘round quickly, “What?”

“In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine.” Sam begins.

“Is she hot?” Dean cuts in, getting a look from both Sam and I before going back to the real situation at hand.

Sam ignores him, continuing his explanation, “I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack’s been charged with murder. He’s been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn’t do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case.”

“Dude, what kind of people are you hangin’ out with?” Dean exclaims, putting the pump back in its place and closing the tank he rounds the car again.

“No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.” Sam assures as his brother gets back in the car.

“Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.” Dean offers.

“They’re in St. Louis. We’re goin’.” Sam orders.

Dean chuckles, “Look, sorry ‘bout your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem.”

“It is our problem. They’re my friends.” Sam shoots back.

“St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam.” Dean says, looking through the rear view mirror. He meets my eyes and I give him a pleading, knowing look. He sighs as he pulls out of the gas station, he makes a U-turn now driving back the way we came.

“Oh my God, Sam!” Rebecca greets happily, the long haired blonde smiling brightly.

“Well, if it isn’t little Becky.” Sam jokes bending down slightly with his arms open for a hug. She wraps her arms around him tightly, “You know what you can do with that little Becky crap.”

It’s odd but endearing to see Sam like this, being able to have a peek into what his life was like when he was away at college. When he was happy, things were a little bit simpler.

They break away and Sam turns serious, “I got your e-mail.” Her smile falters, “I didn’t think that you would come here.”

Dean steps forward and extends his hand, “Dean. Older brother.” She shakes his hand looking at him with a hint of confusion, “Hi.”

“Hi.” Dean says back with his cocky smile.

Her eyes wander over to me, as if signaling it’s my turn to introduce myself with a little wave, “Hi! I’m Y/N a, uh, good friend of these two.”

“Nice to meet you” She smiles back.

Sam, rightfully, cuts in, “We’re here to help. Whatever we can do.”

“Come in.” She steps aside leading us further into the house, Dean being the one to close the door.

“Nice place.” Dean compliments looking around the cozy well loved home.

“It’s my parents’. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I’m gonna stay until Zack’s free.” She explains, as we follow her through the house.

“Where are your folks?” Sam asks.

“They lived in Paris for half the year, so they’re on their way home now for the trial.” She answers as we enter the kitchen, “ Do you guys want a beer or something?”

Dean smiles, “Hey—“

“No, thanks. So, tell us what happened.” Sam cuts him off, definitely for the better. This isn’t the time nor the place for drinks.

She leans against the island as she begins, “Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn’t breathing.” Her voice gets all crackly, tears freely flowing, “So, he called 911, and the police—they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could’ve killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police—they have a video. It’s from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight.”

“You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.” Sam offers.

“We could.” Dean adds

“Why? I mean, what could you do?” Rebecca asked.

“Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop.” Sam clarifies, nudging his brother.

Dean laughs, “Detective, actually.”

“Really? Where?” Rebecca gushes.

Easily Dean shrugs, “Bisbee, Arizona. But I’m off-duty now.” It always amazes me how easily these two lie, well mostly on Sam’s part.

“You guys, it’s so nice to offer, but I just—I don’t know” She stammers

“Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.” Sam explains, eyebrows scrunched together in seriousness.

“Okay. I’m gonna go get the keys.” She leaves us alone in the kitchen, walking down the hall to get those keys.

“Oh, yeah, man, you’re a real straight shooter with your friends.” Dean comments, lightly shoving his brother.

“Look, Zack and Becky need our help” Sam pleads.

“I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.” Dean shrugs.

“Oh come on Dean, it's the right thing to do.” I add, joining the pleading party. “Yeah and two places at once? We’ve looked into less.” Sam points out. Dean sighs but remains silent in defeat, he won’t win this one especially when it’s the both of us pleading with him. He didn’t stand a chance.

The Impala pulls up across the street from Zack’s house, the white building in contrast with the yellow crime scene tape plastered on its outside.

We get out of the car, Rebecca having rode with me in the backseat, “You’re sure this is okay?” She asks Dean. “Yeah. I am an officer of the law.” Dean says all nonchalant as he leads us to the house.

Opening the door to this taped off house revealed a mess of blood. There was blood smeared on the walls and the furniture, a table cluttered with fruit, playing cards and newspapers as if a life was interrupted. And it was. One life physically gone and never coming back and another life, who is potentially innocent, sits rotting away in a jail cell. Rebecca remains strigid just outside the constraints of the police tape. Sam turns back to her, “Bec, you wanna wait outside?”

“No. I wanna help.” With tears in her eyes she ducks underneath the tape.

Dean and I walk slowly around the house, observing the messy crime scene. And although neither of us are actual police officers or forensic scientists it doesn't take a genius to figure out there was a struggle, based on the upturned furniture and the blood splatter alone.

Meanwhile Sam stays with his friend,“Tell us what else the police said.”

“Well, there’s no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in. The lawyers—they’re already talking about plea bargain.” She looks around the room and begins to cry, “Oh, God…”

“Look, Bec, if Zack didn’t do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?” Sam asks her, over the loud noise of a dog barking nearby.

She shakes her head, “Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes—Zack’s clothes. The police—they don’t think it’s anything. I mean, we’re not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed.”

Sam walks away from her with a nod. I then walk over to the half open front door, looking at the neighbors dog who hadn’t stopped barking the entire time we’ve been here.

I feel her come up behind me, “You know, that used to be the sweetest dog.”

“Oh, what happened to him?” I ask her, still looking at the black dog who bared its teeth as it barked relentlessly. If she hadn’t said anything I would think this dog was always aggressive, mean even.

“He just changed” She replies, half shrugging.

“Do you know when that change occurred?” I half turn to her.

“I guess around the time of the murder.”

I nod in confirmation, making a mental note, walking away towards the boys, a comforting hand on Rebecca’s shoulder.

The brothers stand in the hallway looking at a framed photograph of Sam, Zack, and Rebecca all together, talking over something I couldn’t quite catch. It’s bittersweet to think that even after Sam left for his “road trip” that his friends hadn’t forgotten him, had even kept up a photo of them all together.

“Apparently the neighbors dog suddenly became all aggressive around the time of Zack’s girlfriend's murder.” I retell the information I just gained. “Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal.” Sam adds.

“I was thinking the same thing” I nod along.

Sam turns to his brother, “So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?”

“No. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure.” Dean answers simply.

“Yeah.” Sam says

“Yeah.” Dean says back just as Rebecca walks over to us, “So, the tape. The security footage—you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, ‘cause I just don’t have that kind of jurisdiction.”

“I’ve already got it. I didn’t wanna say something in front of a cop.” She answers, causing Dean to laugh (a little uncomfortably), “I stole it off the lawyer’s desk. I just had to see it for myself.”

“All right.” Dean says with the slightest hint of a smirk, leading us out just as he led us in.

After seeing the crime scene, Rebecca’s home stood as a total contrast. The clean cozy vibe of the home being completely absent of blood and the act of murder.

“Here he comes.” Rebecca turns her laptop towards us, pointing to the tape of Zack entering his house.

“22:04, that’s just after ten. You said time of death was about 10:30.” Dean points out.

“Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape’s authentic. It wasn’t tampered with.” She explains.

“Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?” Sam cuts in, and if I hadn’t known him. Hadn’t known it was probably because he’d seen something he couldn’t exactly say with her around then I’d say it was a jerkish move.

“Oh, sure.” She gets up from the couch.

“Hey.” He calls out, forcing her to turn around, “Maybe some sandwiches, too?”

“What do you think this is, Hooters?” She replies back as she leaves the room. If I hadn’t known if I liked her before this I definitely do now.

“I wish.” Dean muttered in a hushed tone. I lightly smack the back of his head in warning. His head snapped towards me, and his eyes widened with confusion. “Don’t give me that look; you know what that was for!” I whispered, my words sharp as I poked his chest. He seized my wrist, his grip tight enough to send a shiver down my spine. The room seemed to grow smaller as my mouth fell slightly agape, and I gazed up at him through my eyelashes. He peered down at me, his green eyes seemingly a couple shades darker, a cocky smile on his face.

"Guys!" Sam whisper-shouted, and the small moment between Dean and me shattered like fragile glass. Dean quickly dropped my wrist, the cocky smile vanishing as he was caught in the act. My head reluctantly turned towards the taller man, although all I wanted was to keep my eyes on Dean, to feel his attention solely on me, but now it was all disrupted.

"Check this out," Sam rewinds the tape, seemingly unfazed by what he just witnessed. I clear my throat, attempting to dispel the lingering, fuzzy feeling that Dean's touch had stirred within me. This wasn't the time or place for distractions. Shifting my focus back to the reality of the hunt at hand, I watch as Sam rewinds the tape once more. In one of the frames, Zack stares directly at the camera, his eyes an eerie shade of silver, far from anything normal. Sam pauses the tape once again.

“Well, maybe it’s just a camera flare.” Dean shrugs, skepticism lingering in his voice.

“That’s not like any camera flare I’ve ever seen. You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul.” Sam informs.

“Right.” Dean says, unamused.

“No! Sam’s right! The belief has deep rooted ties to certain Native American cultures, it stems from the idea that a photograph freezes a moment in time and can capture a person’s spirit or energy at that moment.” I explained with a beaming smile, happy to share the fact.

“Do I even want to know why you know that?” Dean asks me to which I just shrugged, “I love fun facts.”

“Anyway” Sam continued, “Remember that dog that was freakin’ out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack’s, something that looks like him but isn’t him.”

“Like a Doppelganger.” Dean concluded.

“Yeah. It’d sure explain how he was two places at once.” Sam finished.

As dawn broke, the persistent nudge of the boys broke me from my slumber, rousing me from a deep, cozy dream. With a groggy sigh, I realized it was just 5 a.m., way too early for me. Regret gnawed at my bones as I recalled having given them the spare key to my motel room for precisely these sort of moments.

Reluctantly, I rolled out of bed and slipped into the comforting embrace of leggings, a sports bra, and a thick zip up sweater to fend off the early morning chill. As we piled into the car and set out for Zack's home once more, the chill weather and the steady movement of the car nearly brought me back to the darkness of sleep.

The car was now parked discreetly behind the house, and we stepped out, greeted by the morning's biting cold that nipped at our cheeks. "Alright, so why are we here at 5:30 in the morning?" Dean inquired, as he nursed a cup of coffee. "Mmm, yeah, it's way too early for all of this," I mumbled groggily in agreement.

"I realized something. The videotape shows the killer going in, but not coming out," Sam explained, gesturing toward the house behind him. "So, he came out the back door?" Dean pointed out, leaning against the hood of his car, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Right. So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue," Sam clarified, walking up to a large red garbage can. "Because they think the killer never left. And they caught your friend Zack inside. I still don't know why we're here at 5:30 in the morning," Dean grumbled, taking another sip from his coffee.

Sam walked away to scour the area only to stop near a telephone pole, noting, "Blood. Somebody came this way." Dean and I exchanged a perplexed look before joining Sam near the smeared blood. "The trail just ends...?" I inquired, glancing around to confirm what we were all seeing.

Suddenly the loud blaring of an ambulance sped past us, the red, white, and blue lights illuminating on the houses it passed. Once again, we exchanged a glance that balanced on the edge of caution and curiosity. With that unspoken understanding, we swiftly returned to the car and pursued the blaring ambulance.

Upon our arrival, a slightly older Asian man was being forcibly guided into a police car, his wrists cuffed tightly. Exiting the vehicle, we approached a woman nearby, clad in running wear. I asked her softly, "What happened?"

"He tried to kill his wife. Tied her up and beat her," the woman explained, causing my eyes to widen and my eyebrows to shoot up in shock.

"Really?" Sam inquired.

"I used to see him heading to work in the morning. He'd wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy," the woman sighed, her gaze fixed on the man being taken away.

Moments later we had split up, Sam and I together to semi-explore the crime scene, meaning the surrounding area since the police and a sizable forensic team were diligently at work. We were on the side of the house, scouring for any clues. Oddly enough, Sam sifted through garbage cans only to come up empty-handed. All we discovered was another trail of blood that suddenly terminated. We rounded to the front of the house.

"Hey," Dean called out, causing us to turn around. "Remember when I said this wasn't our kind of problem?"

"Yeah," Sam confirmed.

"Definitely our kind of problem," Dean nodded, sort of throwing his arm into it for emphasis.

"What caused the change of heart?" I inquired, stuffing my hands into my pockets to ward off the chill.

"Well, I just spoke to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex's story. Apparently, the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked," Dean elaborated, nodding towards a burly police officer standing nearby.

"So, he was in two places at once," Sam stated rather than asked.

"Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house; the police think he's a nutjob," Dean shot back without missing a beat.

"Two evil doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way, how sweet," I remarked sarcastically.

"Could be the same thing doing it, too," Dean suggested. Sam looked up in thought, "Shapeshifter? Something that can make itself look like anyone?"

"Well, you know, every culture all over the world has shapeshifter lore. All sorts of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or the other way around or even into other men, like skinwalkers, werewolves, nanaue, etcetera," I reminded.

"We've got two attacks within blocks of each other. I'm guessing we've got a shapeshifter prowling the neighborhood," Dean added.

"Let me ask you this Y/N—in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?" Sam asked me.

"Uh…no?" I answered.

He turned to Dean, leading the way, "Well then we picked up a trail here. Someone ran out the back of this building and headed off this way."

"Just like your friend's house," Dean confirmed.

"Yeah. And, just like at Zack's house, the trail suddenly ends. I mean, whatever it is just disappeared," Sam explained as we followed the trail of blood all the way to an empty street at the back of the house.

"Well, there's another way to go—down," Dean replied. The three of us peered down at a manhole.

"How lovely," I mumbled, not particularly thrilled about having to go into the sewers.

Sam lifts the grate up, allowing Dean to go in first with a smile with me following next down. Surprisingly the ladder wasn’t sticky and full of muck like I thought it’d be, but still it was gross to be down here and I don’t think two showers would be enough after this.

The tunnels were dark and leaky, a constant dripping sound coming from somewhere. “I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too. The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around.” Sam says, looking around.

“I think you’re right. Look at this.” Dean answers bending down in front of a glossy slimy pile of blood and skin. He takes out his pocket knife, pulling some of the skin up the slime of it glistening in the dim lights. I had to stop myself from gagging.

“Is this from his victims?” Sam inquires, a scrunched look of disgust on his face.

“You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds.” Dean pointed out, letting the goop of the skin fall back to the floor.

“Why would you say that?” I cringe, my question more rhetorical than anything.

Dean opens the trunk of the Impala, taking out some bullets and entering them into the slots of the gun. “Well, one thing I learned from Dad, is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there’s one sure way to kill it.”

“Silver bullet to the heart.” Sam smiles, dimples on display.

“That’s right.” And as if on cue Sam’s phone rings.

“This is Sam.” He answers walking to the front of the car, remaining just in hearing range. And just as much as I hate to admit it, Dean and I stayed quiet to eavesdrop.

“We’re near Zack’s, we’re just checkin’ some things out.

…

What are you talkin’ about?

…

Why would you do that?

…

Bec—

…

We’re tryin’ to help.

….

Bec, I’m sorry, but—“ His hand drops to his side, sighing as he looks down,

Dean walks over to his brother with a half frown, “I hate to say it, but that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about.” He pauses before continuing, “You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they’d be freaked.” Again he pauses, “It’s just—it’d be easier if—“

“If I was like you.” Sam finished his sentence.

Dean breathes out looking around, “Hey, man, like it or not, we are not like other people.” He pauses for a third time, “But I’ll tell you one thing. This whole gig—it ain’t without perks.” He holds up a gun at hip level, Sam takes it with a sigh and begins tucking it into the back of his jeans. He begins to walk away leaving Dean and I behind.

Dean walks back over to me by the open trunk, he leans against the car as I hand him a flashlight. “What’s with that pout?” He asks me, tilting his head down to catch my eyes.

“I’m not pouting” I smile, nearly laughing. “I happen to know you quite well, you were definitely pouting sweetheart.” He smiles now too, “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

I closed the trunk, Dean taking another flashlight from me so I could tuck a small gun into the side of my leggings as I balanced my own flashlight. “I’m thinking that…this job is destructive” I look up at Dean who waits for me to continue, “Seeing Sammy with Rebecca and how happy he was just seeing a friend from college, or that photo with the three of them all together. It was bittersweet to see that really, knowing that he was and can be happy without all this” I motion to the flashlights and the guns neatly tucked away.

“I know” he sighs, “lasting relationships ain’t exactly part of the job description” he smiles sadly and I know he didn’t really know what to say to me.

I gave him a slow nod, giving his upper arm a squeeze as I walked past him, “We should go before Sam starts bugging us for taking so long.”

With guns and flashlights drawn, we cautiously treaded through the sewer, a squishy, unpleasant noise underfoot with each step. I’d definitely need to burn my shoes and clothes after this ordeal.

The sewer resembled a labyrinth, an intricate network of pipes and tunnels twisting and turning in every direction. Drips of who-knows-what fell from the ceiling. Despite our careful steps to avoid the puddles on the ground, I still felt utterly disgusted. There was not enough showering in the world to cleanse me of this event.

With Sam leading the way, his gun extended ahead of him, Dean broke the silence, "I think we're close to its lair."

"Why do you say that?" Sam murmured without turning back to acknowledge his brother. "Because there's another nauseating pile next to your face," Dean retorted, using his flashlight to reveal a slimy heap of skin clinging to a pipe. Sam leaped back, repulsed. "Oh, God!" He glanced down at his shoulder, which had been perilously close to the pile.

I moved my flashlight just past Sam, revealing a pile of discarded clothes. "I think it's lived here for a while."

"Who knows how many murders he's gotten away with," Sam added, turning to face us. "Dean!" He suddenly shouted. Both of us spun around to see the shapeshifter, still in its last victim's form, right behind us. The shapeshifter struck Dean, sending him crashing to the sewer floor, then sprinted away. Sam fired twice, the bullets whizzing just above my head. He missed.

I bent down to assist Dean, who clutched his left shoulder, grimacing. "Get that son of a bitch!" He grunted and nodded as Sam took off, leaning against the wall. Dean gestured for me to follow his brother.

Running in a sewer was just as challenging as walking, with overhead pipes requiring us to duck to avoid collision.

Sam reached a ladder and began ascending it, lifting himself up and out. I followed, feeling the cold night air surrounding me as I emerged. We stood in a park, a distance from where we had entered, scanning the surroundings. Dean struggled out of the manhole, still holding his shoulder.

"All right, let's split up," Sam suggested, concealing his gun within his jacket, out of sight from the passersby in the park. The fact that they hadn't noticed us emerging from a manhole was beyond me, but I didn't question it when it worked in our favor.

“All right, I’ll meet you guys around the other side.” Dean agreed.

“Copy” I answered in confirmation, I twirled to the left as Sam headed right, and Dean proceeded straight. Despite the cold air, I unzipped my thick sweater to conceal my gun while ensuring I could still draw it swiftly. Even though I was comfy I began to regret just wearing a sports bra beneath my sweater, my stomach and above my breasts open to the frigid air.

I walked cautiously, weaving through crowds, scanning both people and the shops that remained open. Yet, street after street, there was no sign of our quarry. No more than five to ten minutes passed before I spotted Sam standing by a crosswalk. I tucked my gun into my leggings, finally able to zip up my sweater. He must have caught sight of me approaching from the corner of his eye.

"Nothing?" he asked, even though he likely knew the answer. I nodded in confirmation.

"Hey," Dean's voice called out from behind us, prompting us to turn toward him. "Anything?" he inquired, arms outstretched. "No. He's gone," Sam replied as his brother approached.

"Alright, let's get back to the car," Dean ordered, and we complied, turning to cross the street.

“You think he found another way underground?” Sam asks, stopping at the side of the Impala.

“Yeah, probably. You got the keys?” Dean retorts.

“Hey, didn’t Dad once face a shapeshifter in San Antonio?” Sam turns around facing Dean.

“Oh, that was Austin. It turned out not to be a shapeshifter, it was a thought form. A psychic projection, remember?”

“Oh, right. Here ya go.” He throws Dean the keys who catches it with his…left hand, he opens the trunk of the car. Sam walks off towards the front of the car but I hang back, maybe I'm overthinking it but this isn’t something that I can just let slip by.

“Hey, Dean” I call out my gun trained carefully on his back, “Yeah sweetheart” He answers turning around. I fight the urge to cringe hearing the usual endearing pet name curl off the lips of someone who wasn’t Dean, even more so a being who looked like him.

Sam sees my movements and swiftly moves to the right side of his brother, “Y/N! What are you doing”

“Yeah, chill. It’s me, all right?” ‘Dean shoots back his arms raised in defense.

“Sammy, he caught the keys with his left hand” I explained through gritted teeth. In my peripheral vision I see Sam’s eyes widen in realization, he mumbles, “Your shoulder was hurt.” His hand moved to the back of his waistband, searching for his gun. But before he could reach it, the shapeshifter swung a crowbar from the trunk, striking Sam down. My gun went off twice, the first bullet missing entirely, allowing the shapeshifter to hit Sam once more.

The second bullet nearly finding its mark, grazing his shoulder. He turned his head slowly toward me, glaring up at me through his lashes. A bullet grazing his shoulder didn't seem to slow him down. He stalked toward me, like a predator closing in on its prey. But before I could pull the trigger for a third time, he used the same crowbar to knock the gun out of my hand. The sharp metal sent the weapon tumbling, 'Dean' kicking it behind him, it sliding beneath the car.

He grinned at me, and my eyes widened with a mix of fear and determination. As he swung his arm back, ready to strike me with the crowbar, I grabbed hold of it, both hands clenching the cold metal. He was undeniably stronger than me, so I braced my feet even harder against the ground, bending my knees for added leverage and pushing up against the weapon.

His feet swept under me, sending me crashing hard to the ground, my back absorbing the brunt of the impact. I grunted, pushing myself up on my elbows, preparing to rise. But he quickly knelt over me, a knee on each side of my hips. 'Dean's' large, veiny hand closed around my throat, gripping it tightly. I used my hands to try and push him off, but it was futile. With his free hand, he seized my wrists, pinning them to my chest. My head lolled back against the concrete street.

My chest began to burn with the desperate need for air, and tears welled up in my eyes from the pain. Black spots started to invade my vision as I gazed up at 'Dean' through half lidded eyes. “Come on, baby," he growled, his voice raspy as his grip tightened even further. It was the last thing I heard before everything faded to black.

In and out, voices sang in a disjointed melody. Dim lights blurred behind my closed eyes. Fragments of Sam's voice pierced through the darkness, the words struggling to piece together. "Where...he...?...Dean?"

I blinked slowly, my head swaying to the side and then back. With a deep breath, my eyes snapped open. We were in the sewer.

Sam sat directly across from me, tightly bound to a pole, a rope encircling his neck. Strangely, it wasn't a rope that constricted my neck but something cold. I lurched my shoulders forward, feeling the restrictive, itchy rope around my ankles, wrists bound behind my back, and right beneath my breasts. It was then that I noticed my sweatshirt was missing.

"I wouldn't worry about him. I'd worry about you," 'Dean' told Sam, seemingly unaware that I was also awake.

I attempted to move my bound hands, intending to use my magic to free myself from the ropes, but nothing happened. I couldn't sense my magic at all. Panic began to well up within me. I kicked my feet out in frustration, though beneath the surface, I was terrified. I couldn't feel my magic.

'Dean's' head snapped toward me, his gaze drawn to my soft whimpers of fear. "Are you wondering why you can't just...poof out of there?" I didn't answer. He crouched down in front of me, tapping the cold, constricting object around my neck, the sharp clicking of his nails against metal audible. "Iron," he whispered. He firmly grasped my chin, moving my face as though to savor what he'd done, offering me no chance to evade his touch. "From what I've learned from you guys, this has never happened to you," he murmured. He was right; while I was aware of what could inhibit a witch's powers, it had never been used against me

"Fuck you," I spat out, the curse word feeling alien on my tongue. I wasn't one to curse often.

"Oh, right back at you, sweetheart," he chuckled, rising from his crouched position and strolling over to a nearby table.

"What do you mean, 'learn'?" Sam asked him. The shapeshifter paused, gripping his head in pain and grimacing, then suddenly relaxed.

This time, he moved over to Sam, his voice laden with resentment. "He's got some serious issues with you. You went to college, and he had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home with Dad." He corrected himself, "You don't think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?"

Sam brushed aside his comment and pressed, "Where is my brother?"

The shapeshifter leaned in close to Sam, his words oozing with bitterness. "I am your brother. See, deep down, I'm just jealous. You have friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I'm a freak. Sooner or later, everybody's going to leave me." He retreated to another table, this time picking up a knife.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.

"You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothing, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. But, still, this life? It's not without its perks," he laughed darkly. "I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky."

His gaze shifted to me now, his head tilted to the side in a taunt "You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance." I strained against my restraints, and he turned back to Sam. "Let's see what happens." He walked away, grabbing a bag on his way out.

As soon as the shapeshifter was out of sight, Sam and I began struggling against our restraints. "Damn it," Sam grunted.

I mirrored his efforts, but anxiety washed over me, and my breathing became rapid and shallow. Panic coursed through my veins, I couldn’t feel my magic. The unfamiliar absence of my powers only added to my distress. Leaning my head back against the pole, I hoped that somehow, it would rid me of the constricting iron collar around my neck.

"Y/N, you've got to breathe," Sam urged through gritted teeth as he continued to struggle against the bindings. I tried to listen to him, taking a deep breath that got caught in my throat as I attempted to swallow a sob, releasing a low whimper.

Suddenly, Sam ceased his struggles, and we both listened. We heard movement and coughing coming from somewhere behind him.

"That better be you, Sam, and not that freak of nature," Dean's voice called out from a corner his, also tied to a pole.

"Yeah, it's me," Sam chuckled. "He went to Rebecca's, looking like you," Sam added as he continued to struggle against his ropes.

"Well, he's not stupid. He picked the handsome one," Dean joked as he continued working on his own ropes. “Yeah, that’s the thing. He didn’t just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you.” Sam explains further.

“What do you mean?” Dean asks.

“I don’t know, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories.” Sam shrugs as well as he can in his confinement.

“You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?” Dean references, escaping his ropes. “Yeah, somethin’ like that. I mean, maybe that’s why he doesn’t just kill us.” Sam suggests.

Dean walks over to us, standing between the two of us. I urged him to release Sam first, my voice trembling. He nodded and moved behind Sam to undo the ropes. “Maybe he needs to keep us alive. Psychic connection.” Sam was quickly freed and stood up to stretch his neck and flex his hands. "Go see if you can find a drill or something for that," Dean ordered, pointing at the metal collar around my neck. Sam nodded and began searching the nearby tables.

Dean crouched next to me, undoing my restraints as he inquired, "What is that thing?"

"Iron," I mumbled, and his eyes widened in realization. He pulled out a pocket knife, I assume he picked up from the nearby table. I flinched slightly, even though I knew this was Dean, the real Dean who would never harm me.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm just using it for the ropes," he reassured me, raising his hands in defense and displaying the knife. He glanced at his brother across the room, and I couldn't decipher their exchanged looks. I felt silly.

Sam approached with the drill in hand, "I got it," he said, kneeling on the other side of me to begin unscrewing the collar. It seemed to be a rectangular piece of iron cut from a sheet and then drilled into the pole around me, creating this confining device. The whirring of the drill close to my ear did little to ease my anxiety.

The rope around which had rested just below my breasts, fell free. Dean quickly moved on to the one binding my wrists, which came apart more easily, and then to my ankles. I placed my hands on my lap, my wrists slightly bruised from the rope, and finger imprints marked into my skin. I now dreaded seeing what my neck looked like.

Dean's large hands cupped my wrists, gently massaging my sore skin. His movements faltered when he realized his hands and fingers matched perfectly with the bruises. The whirring of the drill stopped as Sam shifted the metal slightly, allowing me to slip free. I shuffled away from the collar, standing up quickly, nearly stumbling over myself. The sensation of my abilities returning enveloped me, offering a sense of comfort.

Both brothers stood up from their crouched positions, and Sam walked away to place the drill somewhere.

Dean approached me slowly, as if I were a frightened animal. He paused just inches in front of me, his eyebrows furrowing as he scrutinized my bruised form. His hand reached up slowly, giving me the chance to evade him, but I didn't. I allowed him to cup my cheek, his touch gentle and in stark contrast to the shapeshifter. I reminded myself that the shapeshifter wasn't him.

His gaze was soft as he observed me, carefully tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. He'd already seen the bruises, but his eyes dipped to my neck again, a touch of sorrow evident in his gaze. Just like my wrists, if he put his hand to my neck, it would match perfectly. I knew he would blame himself for this later.

With his hand still cradling my cheek, he brought my face closer to his. His lips pressed to the crown of my head, lingering there for a moment, and I melted against him. The urge to cry washed over me again, though this time it wasn't from fear, but rather from the overwhelming relief.

"Sorry to ruin the moment, but we've got to go," Sam's voice broke the silence from across the room. Dean didn't jump back or withdraw, instead his lips left my head as his hand slid from my face gently. His hand sought mine, and we followed Sam as he led us out.

Sam kicks open a grate, going out first into an alleyway. I crawl out after him, Dean following closely behind. The cold air nipped at us, our jackets nowhere in sight, and though that mixed with my bruising wasn’t the greatest fun in the world I at least got to see Dean in a tight light gray shirt. This probably shouldn’t have been on my mind at this moment but it was a nice distraction.

“Come on. We gotta find a phone, call the police.” Sam orders.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. You’re gonna put an APB out on me.” Dean exclaims.

Sam shrugs, “Sorry.”

“This way.” Dean runs off down the street.

We stood in front of a store window, a bunch of little tvs broadcasting the same news channel.

The reporter announces, “An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home.” A sketch of Dean appearing on screen, “

“Man! That’s not even a good picture.” Dean throws up his arms.

“It’s good enough” I answer, looking around at the passerby, “We should move somewhere more out of sight.”

“Agreed” Sam says walking off. “Man!” Dean complains following after his brother.

"Come on," Sam paused in the alleyway. "They said attempted murder. At least we know—"

"I didn't kill her," Dean cut him off.

"We'll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she's all right," Sam suggested. But I couldn't picture her wanting to see us.

"Alright, but first, I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him," Dean declared.

"We have no weapons. No silver bullets," Sam pointed out.

"Sam, the guy's walking around with my face. It's personal. I want to find him," Dean argued, crossing his arms.

"Okay. Where do we look?" Sam asked.

"Well, we could start with the sewers," Dean suggested.

"We have no weapons. He stole our guns. We need more," Sam reasoned.

"Oh," I laughed. "You want guns. I'll give you guns." I flicked my wrist, and a gray revolver appeared in my hand, just like when I produced the flare gun back during the wendigo hunt.

I handed the gun to Sam, adding, "How many do you want?"

“I don’t think I can wait, I'm gonna go check on Rebecca now.” Sam said as we walked around some back streets, near the person in question's house.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? No offense” I ask him.

“Yeah. You guys just wait for me don’t go into the sewers alone” Sam orders

“Sorry Sammy but do you really think i’ll be able to listen to that” Dean responds chuckling.

“Alright, fair point. Go, i’ll stay with Becca just don’t split up” Sam comprises, turning away to go to Rebecca’s.

Guns raised, Dean leads us across a ‘room’ in the sewer. The chamber filled candles and chains, more piles of disgusting skin and blood on the floor.

A muffling noise echoes through the halls, Dean and I share a look gripping our guns tighter as we approach a figure covered with a sheet.

Dean bends down to the figure, removing the sheet to see Rebecca beneath it. Her hands and feet were bound.

“Rebecca?” Dean and I ask at the same time.

“What happened?” I ask as Dean begins to undue her binds.

Rebecca begins to cry, “ I was walking home, and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head, and I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me. I don’t know, how is that even possible?”

“Okay, okay. It’s okay.” Dean finishes untying her, “Come on. Can you walk?” She nods, “Okay, we’ve gotta hurry. Sam went to see you.”

Even from outside her house you could hear the commotion and most likely fighting that happened inside. Dean crept the door open, gun drawn as he snuck in. I mimicked his movement falling after him into the living room.

The shapeshifter was on top of Sam, pinning him down.

“Hey!” Dean calls out to the shapeshifter. He gets off of Sam turning to the voice that beckoned it. Two shots ring out, through the heart and down the shapeshifter went.

Rebecca enters running over to her friend, “Sam!”

Meanwhile Dean went over to the shapeshifter that looked like him yanking back his necklace that was stolen, and it was probably bad that I hadn’t known it was gone till now.

I sat in my usual spot in the back seat of the Impala, cozied up with my halloween blanket regardless of the fact it was early March. It’s my favorite and I won’t accept any criticism.

The early morning sun shone through the windows, we hadn’t slept last night, spending the entire time busy with the hunt and by the time it was over morning was already breaking and we had to leave to avoid the police. We stopped at the motel for our bags but that was it, we were going to bid our goodbyes and then head to the next state over to rest up. I wasn’t even able to shower, which was okay in retrospect, I'd feel cleaner mentally once we drove away from here. I’d thrown a random t-shirt I had over the sports bra I had been running around in for hours. We eventually did find our coats but I hadn’t taken mine with me, memories I hadn’t wanted to keep sewn into its fabric.

Dean leaned on the outside of the car looking at a map while Sam talked to his friend. Neither boy bothered me or had talked to me much in the couple of hours since the end of our hunt, perhaps too afraid to ask if I was okay or maybe they didn’t know what to say.

I looked out the window watching the trees dance slowly in the wind after waving bye to Rebecca, listening to the boys talk in front of the car.

“So, what about your friend, Zack?” Dean asks now ignoring the map.

“ Cops are blamin’ this Dean Winchester guy for Emily’s murder.” Sam jokes smiling, “They found the murder weapon in the guy’s lair, Zack’s clothes stained with her blood. Now they’re thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon.”

Dean rolls his eyes, scuffing, before getting into the car.

We’ve only driven for a couple minutes before Dean brings back the subject of the hunt and everything that had unfolded, “Sorry, man.” Dean suddenly began.

“About what?” Sam responds.

“ I really wish things could be different, you know? I wish you could just be….Joe College.” Dean confesses.

“No, that’s okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in.” Sam admits too.

“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re a freak.” Dean smiles that charming sweet smile.

“Yeah, thanks.” Sam laughs.

“Well, I’m a freak, too.” Dean adds

“You already know I'm one!” I topple on.

“See, we’re right there with ya, all the way.” Dean chuckles. “Yeah, I know you are.” Sam looks between Dean and I as he speaks.

“Those who freak together, stay together?” I offer with a smile, the car falling into laughter. The kind of laughter that lasts in the air even after it was over with, it was stupid of course but it left a warmth in my heart that blanketed me with just enough comfort to last me till the next state over where I'd be safe.

The car fell silent, big smiles on all our faces, “You know, I gotta say—I’m sorry I’m gonna miss it.” Dean announces randomly.

“Miss what?” Sam laughs lightly.

“How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #fanfiction #sam winchester #supernatural #john winchester #slow burn #witchcraft #series #mystery #winchester x reader #witch reader #romance #dean winchester x witch reader #dean winchester x female!reader #the hunter and the witch

[just-a-sleepy-idiot]

Supernatural Crowley Drabble: Meeting each other for the first time in the Bunkers kitchen

Content/Warning: Gender neutral Winchester! Reader, Post Apocalypse Setting

Dedicated to @gabriels-wings-of-freedom 💚 I love our Headcanon brainstorms! And I always look forward to your writing

You were new to the life of a hunter, new to the small family that you didn’t knew you had. They reluctantly took you in, not wanting to have your life ruined like hunting wrecked theirs.

But after your brothers fought off several monsters that seemed to have gotten the Update on the Family tree as well they knew there was no going back for you.

Still, they tried to keep you seperated from what they were doing to avoid further harm coming your way. They taught you all they knew, Dean showed you how to handle yourself in a fight and how to shoot a gun and Sam taught you everything he knew about Monsters and how to kill them.

It was.. a lot, especially since you were made aware that almost everything was real out there. Witches, Werewolves and.. Angels and Demons and even Gods. Like, other, numerous gods!! But they assured you that you wouldn’t need to worry, they would be there to destroy every mitherfucker who dared to cross their little sibling. You were wary, but hopeful of that promise.

They taught you all about their job, but what they didn’t fully tell you was their own, messy history with the reigns of the world. Their involvement with Michael and Lucifer.. they only mentioned it briefly and that also only several months of being with them. You didn’t press on yet. Your brothers went through a lot of pain. You could see it in the way Deans eyes would loose all color, and the way Sams gaze lost itself when you had speculated what Hell might be like.

You didn’t know a lot about the things that went down, only that they adverted an impending Apocalypse. But now they still got plenty of stuff on their plate, they always did. You supported them back from the Bunker when they were out hunting and helped thdm look for jobs when they were here.

The boys were here for a while, you took advantage of that to spend some time together with them and watched trashy action movies with them. After an evening of doing so you woke up at 3AM with the munchies and went to go to the kitchen in an oversized shirt and your underwear.

You expected to snatch some left over fast food from Dean or some greens from Sam from the fridge, but what you certainly didn’t expect to find in the kitchen was a.. man. Like a man in a black suit just standing there drinking a glass of Scotch.

You squinted at him in the dim light and rubbed your eyes, he raised his brows in amusement when he saw you. He only just found out that the Winchesters had another sibling but.. he didn’t expect that person to be you. His lips twitched up when he saw that messy hair, the sleepy face and the oversized clothing.

„Umm.. so.. who are you? I don’t suppose you also came here for a late night snack.“

You tilted your head to the side and moved around the table, cautiously getting closer to the knife block. It might not be useful but it was better that having nothing on your hands.

He chuckled and leaned over, putting his hands in his pockets. „Who do you think I am?“

You shrugged and leaned back against the counter, hand resting near the knife block.

„You‘re sassy so.. I think you might be some demon.“

He feigned offense and put a hand on his chest, „Some demon? You‘re speaking to the Manager.“ He gave you a look and opened the fridge, rummaging through it before getting out some eggs.

„Well..“ you replied, „Where can I send in my complaints? Some of your staff has been trying to kill me.“ You eyed him with a frown and watched him get out a pan as well. What the hell..

„That’s why I‘m here. See it as a inaugural visit. I have some sort of a past with your brothers but I think you might just be the gateaway to new relations.“

You raised your brows and watched him put the pan on the stove and cracking the eggs in it, he looked around and you quietly handed him the salt after a moment if silence. He held it up with a smile,

„See, we‘re already starting off strong.“ He started cooking and you blinked at him with a frown. There was a demon in your kitchen, cooking eggs? At 3 AM? That might just be the weirdest experience ever since you found out about this whole supernatural beings thing.

„You might be asking yourself why you would even need relations to a Demon. But your brothers and now you always get caught up in the crossfire. There‘s no side that you can completely rely on so it‘s good to have a backup from Hell, don’t you think?“

You let your hand slide away from the knife block, still frowning.

„…You‘re kinda a good Salesman.“ You noted and he chuckled darkly, shooting you a look before handing you some Oranges.

„Thats why I was King of the Crossroads and why I am now the King of Hell. Marketing is everything.“ He said with a wink, prompting a small, confused smile to appear on your lips.

You took the Oranges and started cutting them in half, you had no idea why you were apparently making breakfast with a demon, but you didn’t really question it at this day and hour.

„I‘m Y/n..“ you now introduced yourself. The delicious smell of Omelet started to flood the kitchen. You made Orange juice next to him. What a weird night. „I‘m Crowley, pleased to meet you.“

He put the food on a plate and set in down on the table. „Bon appetit. I‘ll be off then..“ He was about to snap his fingers when you stopped him, „Wait! Stay..“ he raised in brows with a surprised smile, you sat down and crossed your legs on the chair. „Tell me what it’s like to be demon.“

He chuckled and sat down opposite you,

„Why, interested in an application?“ You shot him a look and he turned his head a little, „Well..“

you slid him the orange juice and slowly started eating your Omelet. „Continue, please.“ He looked from the glass to you with a small smile. Crowley observed you with interest, that Winchester was certainly something else.

He took the glass. „Alright.“

I hope you liked it!!

#crowley x reader #spn crowley #supernatural crowley #supernatural crowley x reader #supernatural x reader

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Rage Monster

John Winchester x daughter!reader, Sam and Dean x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you have a bit of a “girl rage” moment, and the men don’t know how to react.

It was just one of those mornings. Everything, from the sound of your alarm to the sound of Sam and Dean’s chattering, was driving you absolutely insane. There was no particular reason for it, you just couldn’t deal with…anything.

“Hey kid, ready to go?”

Especially this. Driving all day in Dean’s car with his annoying music, stuck in a confined space with three men.

You were tired of it, to say the least, and you weren’t sure you could handle it today.

“Y/N?” John’s voice broke through your consciousness, and you looked up. “C’mon, it’s time to go.”

“Fine,” you hadn’t meant for the word to come out so aggressively, but based on John’s reaction, that’s how it came out.

“Hey, you alright?” Sam cut in before John could respond.

“Peachy,” you rolled your eyes.

“Someone’s grumpy this morning,” Dean said.

“Maybe because my brother’s a douchebag,” even though you mumbled it, you knew everyone in the room could hear.

“Hey, that’s enough!” John barked. “What is the matter with you?”

“Could you guys get off my case for five minutes?”

“Go wait in the car,” John demanded. “If you’re not gonna watch your tone, then you’re not gonna speak, understand?”

You knew you should quit while you were behind, but your anger was now more potent then ever.

“Fine! Any minute I get to spend away from you guys is a blessing!” You stormed out of the room, slamming the motel door behind you.

Dean was the first to break the silence.

“What the heck was that?”

…

John was the first one to venture out to the car, instructing the boys to stay in the motel.

He stayed silent for a long minute after he entered the Impala. If it was one of the boys, he would’ve started talking right away, demanding an explanation for that kind of behavior. But he’d learned somewhere along the line that things turned out better between you and him if he let you think things out.

Of course, if the next words out of your mouth were something sassy, he wouldn’t hesitate to set you straight. But he had a feeling that you weren’t as angry as you thought you were.

“I’m sorry,” your voice broke the silence, and John expertly hid the smile that threatened to creep up. He wasn’t about to let you off the hook so easily, and he certainly wasn’t going to let you see his relief.

“What was all that?”

“I don’t know,” John nearly cringed at the sound of your voice, which was thick and high-pitched. You were trying not to cry. You didn’t often cry, so he usually didn’t have to worry about it, but every once in a while it would happen, and he didn’t know what to do.

When the boys got emotional, it usually ended in some kind of loud argument, which he knew how to handle. Your emotions, however, sometimes came out differently.

“I’m gonna need something better than that.”

“I really don’t know,” you fisted your sleeves in your hands, pulling your knees up to your chest. “It—I just…I’m sorry, really. I’m just…tired, I guess.”

This was a pathetic excuse, and both of you knew it. But John was almost certain that you were being honest with him.

“Ok,” he said finally.

“Ok?”

“Well, no, what you did was not ok,” he admitted. “But I forgive you. But I don’t ever wanna hear that tone again, understand?”

“Yes sir,” your voice was clearer now, but you kept your face dropped down against your knees.

“If you’re feeling like that again, just say something and we’ll leave you be. But there’s no excuse for snapping like that.”

“Yes sir.”

“Hey, look at me,” John finally let a ghost of a smile show on his face when your eyes met his, and you reciprocated it. “Well now that this is all cleared up, I think we should hit the road. But I think you should take a nap back here, alright? I’ll tell Dean to turn his music down, and we’ll leave you alone for a bit.” This was both a way to keep tensions down, and perhaps a way to get you to think about how you’d been acting. John was pretty proud of that little bit of parenting.

“Ok,” you agreed.”

John smiled again.

“Ok.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean and sam #dean winchester x you #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #supernatural dean #the winchesters #winchesters x reader #winchesters x sister #john winchester x daughter!reader #john winchester #john winchester x reader #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x you #spn sam winchester #sam winchester x y/n

[cringemesstickles]

Tickle Monster’s Meal

(TickleTober Day 26: Counting)

Summary: Sam is being particularly sassy.

Pairing: none

Word Count: 1,067

A/N: ikik it’s lee!sam again.

I CANT HELP MYSELF HSBDBDHS

———————————————————

It was a typical day in the men of letters bunker; Sam was at the library table, scrolling through his laptop while Dean sat across from him, flipping through a car magazine.

Sam was in a particularly sassy mood today; dropping sly insults, making snarky remarks, even just rolling his eyes when he thought Dean said something stupid.

At first, Dean didn’t care all that much since Sam was always pretty sassy… but when his little brother made the comment that he did, all hell broke loose.

“Dean, you really need to start listening to good music; this crap is seriously outdated.” Said the younger Winchester, looking up from his laptop and shooting his older brother a smug look.

Dean looked at the younger with a look of disbelief.

“Outdated?! Sam, the classics never expire!” He defended, pointing a finger at his little brother, who only rolled his eyes as he prepared his next snarky comment.

“Well it’s certainly been replaced by newer and better songs.”

Dean switched off the radio and closed his magazine dramatically, giving Sam his full attention.

He knew exactly what Sam wanted.

If Sam wanted to play, they were gonna play.

“Ten, nine, eight,” He began counting down, noting the confusion in Sam’s face.

“What are you- oh no. no, no, no, no, no-” Realization settled in for Sam and he knew exactly what Dean was planning.

Without waiting another moment, he leapt up from his seat and bolted towards the halls, searching for a place to hide.

His heart raced as his brother continued to count down.

“Five, four,”

Shit, shit, shit, he was almost out of time.

Thinking fast, he slipped into the closest room, which happened to be Dean’s.

He carefully closed the door and knelt by the desk, hoping it would suffice.

“Two, one. Prepare for the tickle monster, little brother!” Dean called out, a smirk on his face.

He crept through the bunkers halls like a lion stalking its prey.

Sam tried his best to keep quiet, but the anticipation was making it very difficult.

“You’re only delaying the inevitable, Sammy… and the inevitable involves lots and lots of laughter~” taunted the elder, pausing in between his teases to listen for any giggles.

Meanwhile, Sam could feel those giggles bubbling up, as well as Dean’s fingers skittering all over his tickle spots… his brother was just too damn good at building the anticipation!

“I mean, just imagine it Sammy… my fingers scribbling and scratching all over that ticklish skin of yours. I can practically hear your laughter!”

Sam could hear Dean’s footsteps getting closer and closer and he just couldn’t hold it in anymore; a giggle slipped from his lips and he instantly became aware of how screwed he was; when the footsteps stopped is when it REALLY kicked in how screwed he was.

“Oh, Sammy~ I know you’re in there…” Dean teased, opening the door to his room.

Sam shot up and tried to maneuver around his older brother, but to no use.

Dean caught him around the waist and pushed him on the bed, instantly wriggling his fingers up and down Sam’s sides.

“DEHEHEAN, NOO- I’M SOHOHORRY!” The taller hunter squealed, squirming under the electric sensations caused by his skilled older brother.

The elder grinned, taking in the clear joy on his little brother’s face. He knew his brother more than anyone and he could tell that Sam was enjoying every second of this.

“Too late! You’ve unleashed the tickle monster with all your sass, and he’s hungry!” He skittered nimble fingers up to the ribs, lightening the touch to add more suspense.

“You know, the tickle monster is inquiring about your ribs… wants to make sure you have them all before he… digs in!”

He let his claw shaped hands vibrate against the bones, earning a shrill shriek from Sam, his loud happy laughter filling the room.

“DEHEHEE, NOO! DON’T YOU D-DAHAHARE!!” He flushed bright red, looking at his brother with sparkling eyes filled with excitement, getting a low chuckle from said brother.

“Sorry, Sam… the tickle monster likes to make sure his meal has all the ingredients he requires. I’m sure you won’t mind if I just count your ribs and make sure they’re all there~”

Without waiting for a response, he started counting, massaging the sensitive bone.

“One… two… three- hey! You made me lose count with all that giggling! Now I have to start over…” Taunted Dean, huffing with feigned irritation, relishing the way Sam’s eyes widened with terror.

“NOO!! I HAVE TWENTY FOHOHOUR!! ALL HUMANS DOHOHO!!” Sam guffawed, though he couldn’t science his way out of this situation; not that he really wanted to…

“I’ve just gotta be sure, Sam! What if you lost one?! The tickle monster needs his meal in one piece!” Dean exclaimed, grinning wickedly.

“Now, let’s try this again… one, two, three, fourrr…” He scratched his index finger into the fourth rib, sending shocks of tickles through Sam’s nervous system.

“NAHAHAH- DEHEHEAN!!! I WONT BE SAHAHA- SASSY ANYMOHOHORE!!” Pleaded the younger Winchester, tears beginning to form in his eyes.

Dean felt his heart melt at the sight of his little brother so happy.

He’ll wrap it up soon, but first, he wanted to do one last thing.

“You know what, Sam? The tickle monster is on a schedule today, so lucky for you, he’ll take what he can get and he’ll just eat it now!”

With that explanation, he rolled Sam’s shirt up to reveal his bare skin and without any hesitation, leaned down and blew a loud raspberry against the ticklish ribs, eliciting a snort and a squeal.

“EEK- DEHEHEE!! NOT THAHAHAT!!”

His thrashing had doubled, twisting side to side in desperation as his brother blew raspberry after raspberry on his ticklish skin.

His cheeks were rosy and sore from smiling, but he felt so undeniably happy.

When Sam’s laughter went silent, Dean pulled away and let out a laugh of his own, rolling off of Sam and letting him calm down.

“Mahahan… I always forget how ticklish you are, Sam.” He laughed, affectionately ruffling his brother’s hair.

Sam smiled up at his big brother, a smile of contentment.

“How did you knohohow? That that’s what I wanted?..” he asked shyly, averting his gaze.

Dean only smiled.

“Big brothers know everything about their little brothers…”

It was a simple explanation, but one that sam accepted.

#mess writes #tickletober2023 #tickletober #augtickletober2023 #tktober #tktober2023 #lee!sam #lee!sammy #ticklish!sam #ticklish!sammy #ler!dean #supernatural tword content #supernatural tickle fic #supernatural tickling #spn tickling #spn tickles #spn tickle fic #tickle community #tword content #sfw tickling #tickles #tickle fic

[futuristicenthusiastlight]

That moment was frigging hilarious in a horrible moment.

Sam was still soulless, Crowley was circling around like a shark, Castiel had his troubles in Heaven.

Bobby thought he could help by pawning his soul to the damn King of Hell.

Sam, being the sassy little brother he is, asks a troubblesome question.

Both brothers are thoroughly shocked at the outcome. Dean's face is totally hilarious.

And... yes, Bobby, why did you use tongue? 🤣

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #supernatural crowley #some fun

[lou-iz-stat]

We are officially 7 weeks away from Interview with the Vampire season 2 !!!!! So that means that it is time for a rewatch each week that will eventually lead up to the premiere.

This post will be my rewatch of episode 1 and it will include observations that relate to the rest of the season so there will be spoilers for season 1 as well as book spoilers. I will also make some predictions for season 2 since I have seen that amazing extended trailer I haven’t been able to get out of my head since. So with that here is my rewatch of episode 1…

IWTV S1 E1: In Throes of Increasing Wonder

The first thing we see is of course Daniel’s little master class commercial that is there to quickly establish what his character is. I have seen a lot of reactions to this first episode from people and they are always confused of if they are watching the right show (lol).

Next we are in Daniel’s apartment in New York which at first glance might not seem like something that is very important but there are so many clues that can be scene there. The bite mark on his neck, THE PUZZLE, the little pink bike helmet. That damn puzzle has confused many of us in the fandom and it could be a clue for something in season 2 when we get to uncover some of Daniel’s missing memories. I have a feeling like it could be from a different painting that Marius or even Armand has done. Only time will tell.

Even when he starts to listen to the tape he is afraid when he realizes that he could be living some of his past trauma by listening to these tapes but he still finds the strength go all the way to Dubai for a second interview.

I also don’t mind that the pandemic is included in this as we are still feeling the affects of it right now.

I also really like that they made Daniel old and have Parkinson’s in the show since it really brings Daniel’s mortality to the forefront and for the reason why he can afford to be so sassy and can push back since he knows he is at the end of his life anyway.

And of course Rashid (Armand) is sitting in a chair in the background. Armand is here from the beginning probably telepathically talking to Louis. And he talks to Daniel for the first time in probably awhile and in hindsight it is pretty funny how butthurt Armand gets at Daniel not wanting him there for the interview but he’ll still be able to hear. 🙄

With inclusion of Storyville and the masterful change of Louis’s race it really elevated Louis’s character from the books. Because of this change it gives the character of Louis some more bite, because of his race he is forced to show an illusion of strength. It just gives him so much more depth so that a modern audience can really connect with him. No matter what anybody says they HAD to change Louis from being a slave owner! Nobody wants a protagonist that owned people like that. And this act of strength that Louis does against his brother is what initially got Lestat to be interested in him in the first place. Everything just flows together so well in this first episode.

Right out the gate they establish Louis trying to distract himself from his closeted self by him seeing Ms. Lily. And with that we meet the gentleman vampire, Lestat. I must admit that when I first watched this I had some reservations about this version of Lestat because as I watched his accent kind of confused me but as the episode goes on, he definitely wins me over and I grew to love Sam’s voice. Sam’s Lestat is definitely what made fall in love with this character.

I never noticed how animalistic they made Lestat sound as he ripped into the lamplighter but his growls are insane.

The way Louis smiles at Lestat when he sucks at playing poker is so cute. ☺️

This is where we first see Lestat’s ability to spellbind a room. If this is the amount of power that Lestat has then I am sure that Armand’s power is going to be out of this world. And this is also the moment Lestat really wins Louis over by connecting to Louis hardship at being mistreated by the Alderman and Thomas Anderson. He also references his own past with the line “protection from the wolves.”

Love that Lestat references more his past from The Vampire Lestat at the Pointe du Lac dinner including his mom, Gabrielle who we will hopefully meet in s3. And knowing his past everything he says about his falling out with religion is sadly very true. 😢 Classic Lestat fuck up though… oh boy. 😭

The line “Dishonesty breeds dishonesty” is an interesting line. I know it proves true later on in the season but will it also prove true in s2?

🤣 The gay panic in Louis’s eyes when Lestat asks him up for a night cap is so good. Jacob Anderson you will always be famous.

Our first Nicki reference when Lestat talks about the music box which was Lestat’s first love.

The first scene in Lestat’s townhouse is iconic indeed but it is also where Lestat is slipping in the idea of Louis becoming his companion. 🥹 And when Louis pounces on Lestat I totally screamed with joy when I first watch this. It is so important to me. And the move that Lestat does to Louis when he goes behind him will definitely be a move that we see Louis replicate on Armand. No matter how much Louis will want to forget Lestat it will never work. lol

A reference to Daniel and Louis’s first meeting that will see later was good to set up now.

Seeing Louis actually getting to have a good time with his family for once before it all goes to shit really helps make what happens later especially tragic.

“Come to me” comes up a lot in The Vampire Lestat but it’s not Lestat saying it, it is usually what Armand says to Lestat. I wonder if this will come up later in s2.

Many have raved about Jacob Anderson’s performance but it truly is one the greatest performances of all time, especially his performance is the confession box and I’m sure he only be better in s2 if that’s even possible.

Along side that this whole scene in the church is so brilliant from beginning to end. The speech that Lestat gives to Louis. Killing of the priests. The kiss. The confession of love. The speech modern day Louis says. And the turning of Louis. All. So. Perfect.

And there you have it the end of my s1 e1 rewatch. If you are still reading this then thank you for sticking with my rambling ass. Hopefully I can keep this up for the rest of the episodes in the coming weeks.

7 more weeks. We can do this!

#interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #iwtv #iwtv spoilers #louis de pointe du lac #iwtv 2022 #iwtv amc #lestat de lioncourt #sam reid #lestat #jacob anderson #season 1 #amc interview with the vampire #just for fun #armand iwtv #its for my mental health #the anticipation is killing me #need to get this out of my system #daniel molloy #iwtv daniel #iwtv armand #iwtv louis #interview with the vampire amc #interview with the vampire 2022 #assad zaman #eric bogosian