All The King’s Men

Chapter 3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

A/N: Hey! Thanks for reading! If you wish to be tagged please send an ask, I don’t always see the replies on the posts! 

Keep reading

All The King’s Men

Chapter 1

Summary: After finding out the King and Queen have arranged a marriage for you, to a dreadful prince at that, you decide to arrange your own fate outside the castle walls. What happens when your intended husband decides to claim what’s lawfully his? 

“Ha!” You cried out triumphantly as Dean pushed himself up off the ground. You were elated, having finally knocked the man off his feet. “That’s one for me!”

“As opposed to the countless wins for me?” He cocked an eyebrow, wiping some stray dirt from his uniform. “Now try to best me with this.”

Your cockiness faded instantly as the light from the chandelier glinted off the metal sword. It wasn’t anything fancy, one that he could take from the armory for you to practice without someone noticing it was gone. It was also the smallest one he could find, since most of the soldiers were as big or bigger than he was.

You took the sword with only half confidence, moving your hands around on the hilt until your grip was satisfactory.

Keep reading

All The King’s Men

Chapter 2

Summary: After finding out the King and Queen have arranged a marriage for you, to a dreadful prince at that, you decide to arrange your own fate outside the castle walls. What happens when your intended husband decides to claim what’s lawfully his?

Chapter 1

Keep reading

The “Better Place” Pt: 2

Part 1 | HWBC MasterList

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

No matter how many times he said sorry or oops it wouldn’t change the fact that Dean had accidentally-on-purpose thrown out three consecutive fruit smoothies to make room for beer.

Sam was very, very done.

With the practiced silence of a trained killer, Sam reached over Dean’s sleeping form and into the cooler, grabbed his six-pack of beer and pulled it over the divider into the back seat. 

Sam ever so slowly pulled the tabs of each of the aluminum cans and listened to the slow hiss of the carbonation. This was going to be the start of a very long and ugly prank war.

Deep Purple’s Smoke on the Water reverberated from the inside of Dean’s coat pocket and Sam relaxed into a sleeping position while his brother fumbled in his jacket.

“Mmmm…’ello?” The older Winchester grumbled. Sam recognized the chipper tone and Minnesotan accent almost immediately.

“Hey, Donna!” Sam whispered. Dean waved a hand in front of his brother’s face to keep him quiet.

“Mmmmhmm gotcha, Alexandria.” Dean nodded and then as Donna continued he suddenly went rigid. Sam noticed the change immediately and sat up as Dean pressed his ear tightly to the phone. “We’ll be right there.”

“What is it?”

“We’re going to Minnesota.”

“Yeah, I figured when I heard Donna on the phone, what’s she got?”

“Something is taking kids up there in three different counties. She’s got a couple of other hunters helping her for now, but it’s too big of an area for just them to cover.”

“So who else is there with her?” Sam pressed his brother further. It was clear that Dean was dancing around the question, he paused awkwardly.

“Y/N.” Her name stuttered out of his mouth and Dean tried to cover it, “It makes sense, she’s from the area, it’s only natural that Donna would call her first.”

“Wow.” Sam was at a loss for words, it had been at least five years since they had seen Y/N; to Dean, It felt like longer. Probably because he couldn’t tolerate hearing her name, much less the idea of running into her on a hunt. 

Sam never did find out what happened. All he knew was that Dean had been on a streak of single women, single malt, and that the topic of Y/N was completely off limits.

“Dean?” Sam ventured, tentatively.

“Mmmm?” Dean’s jaw was clenched. Even though Sam could tell Dean was trying his best to seem unbothered by the situation, his brother wasn’t mentally with him in the Impala just now.

“Dean…I know this isn’t something that-”

“No.” Came the stern reply.

“Look, you can’t do this every time something’s eating at you. I know you and Y/N-”

“Sam,” this time his tone carried the threat of action, “don’t. Just don’t.” The younger Winchester watched his brother take a deep breath, his knuckles clenched and unclenched around the thin Chevy steering wheel, and Dean released a long breath. 

“Sam…I know we talk, I know what you’re trying to do. I’m not saying never, but just not now. Okay? Just not now, please?”

Sam had never heard his brother concede to the idea that he needed to talk without blowing it off completely and reaching for the nearest thing bearing a warning from the surgeon general. This was a step in the right direction; he could live with that.

Keep reading

Imagine Falling in Love without Speaking

Librarian!Sam x mute!Reader

Sam had always been a geek, a lover of the written word,so it was no surprise to his family that he became a librarian.

He worked at the Stanford Public Library for years when he started to notice the same woman appear in his place of employment on a daily basis.

She was petite, slender in some places, curved in all the right places, loose curls always falling from the messy bun she used a pencil to keep in place.

When checking out books, she rarely said a word, merely nodded a thank you, smiled a dimpled grin at Sam, to which he would return. He wanted to talk to her, but was at a loss for words.

Irony at its best, he knew.

Three days later, the mysterious girl returned, placing 4 books on the counter, and as she walked away, Sam noticed one of them had a piece of paper sticking out of it. Thinking she may have left something pertinent, he hurried after her calling out,

“Miss! Miss!” To no avail.

Finally he reached her, tapped on her shoulder, scaring her, but surprisingly she didn’t utter a sound.

Confused, he handed her the piece of lined paper, to which she shook her head, smiled, and opened it up, giving it back to Sam.

Hi, you may not have noticed, but I don’t speak, much, rather at all. I was born mute, my language is found in books, and this past month, I have found you. Would you care to sit with me? YN

Shocked, it was now apparent to him just why they casually nodded, smiled, waved, but neither made the attempt to speak. Until today.

Sam inquired through sign language, if she too could sign, and she silently giggled. Shaking her hand in the yes sign, up and down, they sat together, their silence so loud, Sam want sure if it was his heart beating, but the pounding in his ears, was relevant.

She too could feel the drowning sensation in her eardrums.

Hearts beating faster, hands signing fluidly, love found in a library.

Absolutely adore this!!! 💚💜💚💜😘

Thank you!!!

Hot Patootie, Bless My Soul

This lovely piece of fiction was written for Ree’s Rocky Horror Writing Challenge ( @neversatisfiedgirl ). I got the song “Hot Patootie, Bless My Soul”, and I had a blast writing this. It is a Dean x Reader (friendship) As always I couldn’t have done it without the help of my sisters: @holywaterbucketchallenge @demondean-for-kingofhell​

The song, being about Rock n’ Roll, was the inspiration for this story. It helped fuel this idea i had that this is what would really happen if I met the Winchesters. I put a lot of myself into this and the reader is totally one hundred percent me. The decor, the musical interest, the tattoo, the concert, the sass, everything. I really think this is how it would be if I lived with Sam and Dean.

In addition to that this fic will also be an introduction of sorts to my 1 Year Anniversary Challenge, so stay tuned for the fun!

That all being said, enjoy!

Keep reading

Shouldn’t 3

Characters:  Dean x Reader, Sam

Summary:  Dean’s fantasies about the reader come true, even though he knows they shouldn’t

Word Count:  1303

Warning:  Language, Smut, Angst (sorrynotsorry)

Tags are at the bottom.  As always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

Part 1  Part 2 

Dean whirls around when he hears the shower door open, freezing he in place when he sees her stepping naked into the shower with him. The look on her face is nervous and timid and hopeful.  

He’s horny and he’s hard and he wonders if he’s dreaming. That’s the only explanation, that this is a dream.  

Her voice is soft and timid, “I-I heard you say my name…” she trails off and there is a pregnant pause filling the room, it’s full of questions and hopes and desires.

Dean groans, a deep and guttural sound. He knows this is real, that she’s solid and he’s awake and she’s gloriously naked in front of him. For a fleeting moment he remembers all the shouldn’ts.  He remembers that she deserves better than him. He thinks about those things but he’s distracted by the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hip. He’s distracted by the juncture of her thighs, that secret place where he wants to bury himself.  

He makes a decision, then and there - one he knows he’ll regret later. She turns to step out of the shower, her cheeks burning with shame, thinking he’s rejecting her. His arm darts out, stopping her. Before she knows it she’s pressed up against the cold tiles, his mouth searching and probing hers. She’s willing and so ready and he can’t believe this is actually happening. His fingers drift to her thigh, gently stroking the skin just below her entrance. Her hands flit about scratching and clawing and pulling him closer till his chest is pressed to hers, his cock smashed up against her belly.

Keep reading

Shouldn’t

Characters: Dean

Summary:  Dean thinks about the reader.

Word Count: 734

Warnings:  Masturbation

Tags are at the bottom.  As always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

Shouldn’t 

Dean knows he shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be thinking about her. He shouldn’t be thinking about the way the sun catches her face when she sits shotgun in the Impala. He shouldn’t be thinking about what her smile does to him, about the way it feels, deep in his gut. He shouldn’t think about the way her skirt rides up, exposing her thigh. Or how round her breasts are when she leans forward. Or about the way she tucks her hair behind her ear and gives him a glimpse of soft skin below her ear, the skin he wants to nibble with this teeth.

He knows he shouldn’t think about all these things, because he knows it can never happen. The two of them, it’s off limits. At least to him. She’s too good for him, he knows it. She’s beautiful and smart and kind and badass, and she’s off limits.  

But dear god, does he want her. It aches. Not just between his legs, but in his chest. It feels like his ribs are crushing in around his heart, almost like he can’t breathe, that’s how bad he wants her, needs her.  

He gives in, his hand palming the bulge in his jeans. Groaning, he envisions those soft, plump lips and imagines what she tastes like. Spreading his thighs, he flicks open the button on his jeans and pulls down the zipper. Shoving his jeans down to just below his ass, he slips his hand inside his boxers and pulls out his thick cock. It so swollen it almost hurts. When he wraps his hand around his length he thinks about her small hand wrapped around him and he moans. Her hands, so much smaller than his, would her fingers even be able to wrap around the girth?

She could walk in at any moment, she ran out to grab some food. Part of him wants her to catch him, to join him. Even if it was just once, only once. Dean runs his thumb over the slit and imagines her mouth on him, her tongue dragging over the thick head, up the shaft, swirling around. He fucks his hand while he thinks about her warm lips sealing around him, sliding down, down, down.  How far could she take him? Could she take him all the way to the base? He thinks about her eyes on him, locked with his as she sucks him off. Because he knows it would be intimate, it wouldn’t be just a random fuck. It would be intense and electric and there would be no turning back.

His hips buck up off the bed as he pumps faster into his hand, edging close to glorious release. He imagines her cheeks pink and rosy, her skin dewy as she blows him. He’s panting now, so fucking close, almost there. He stops abruptly, holding back, he wants this to last, he’s not ready to come, not yet.

What would it be like to be on top of her? To press his mouth to hers? How would it feel when she spreads her legs for him? Dean thinks about how it would feel to push into her, he knows she would be tight and wet and warm. He bites his lip thinking about her stretching and stretching to accommodate to him, wrapping around him, welcoming him. He thinks about their bodies moving together, he thinks about the sounds that would come out of her mouth and his hand moves faster, squeezes tighter around his cock. His other hand finds his balls, they are drawn up tight, his pulls and tugs, his thighs trembling as he imagines his name on her lips. He thinks about her beautiful mouth and those lips and her high, round breasts and her eyes, those eyes that he could stare into for the rest of his life and he loses it.

One final pump and he’s coming, hot, white liquid spurting out of him, coating his hand. He’s breathless and sweaty and spent. He knows he should get up, he should clean himself off, he should stop thinking about her.

It’s no good, though. She’s under his skin and he can’t shake it. He prays that he can maintain the line, remain professional, but he’s afraid that he’ll cross that line. He’s afraid, because he knows he’s falling for her. And he knows he shouldn’t.

Keep reading

Wreckage

A/N: I’ve been gone a while, but I’m slowly coming back. The muse just wasn’t there, ya know? Anywho, this is hella short but here goes nothing!

It was too late by the time Dean got there. He’d come straight from the church at the sound of hysteria in Sam’s voice. His eyes went wide at the sight of her. His beloved Impala was upside down, two tires gone, one flat and still smoking. What was left of his baby was an empty smoldering shell, but that wasn’t important now. Sam was on his butt on the shoulder of the deserted road, just this side of the lane, his head in his hands, but otherwise looking unhurt.

The borrowed car, a random pick from the bunker’s garage, screeched to a halt at the crash site, and Dean was out and with Sam before the EMT’s could stop him.

“Sam! Sammy buddy are you okay?” panic laced every syllable, and he took Sam’s face in his hands, forcing him to look up.

Dean kneeled in front of him, not caring about if his suit got dirty or ripped. “Sam! Talk to me!” Dean shook his shoulders, aggravation taking over, even though he didn’t mean it to. “Please! What happened?”

Sam took a shuddering breath, and Dean hated how his little brother’s voice broke. “There was an…an oncoming car, I wasn’t paying attention…” fresh tears made their way down Sam’s cheeks, and Dean reached out to swipe them away, smoothing his hair back from his face. Bits of broken glass fell from his locks and if Dean hadn’t been so heartbroken for him he might’ve laughed.

He glanced over at the car again, ‘JUST MARRIED’ written on the shattered windshield, the previously white lettering black from smoke. Dean had to look away when his eyes caught the blood stain on the pavement, and he found himself checking Sam for injury. “Are you hurt?”

Sam started to cry, really cry, and Dean finally understood as his brother let out heaving sobs that shook his chest and shoulders, and Dean did the only thing he could do for him; pull him into a hug and try to calm him as tears stung his own eyes. “It’s gonna be okay, Sam, I’m here. Let it out.”

“Dean she-” Sam hiccupped, and Dean clenched his teeth together to keep from breaking down, needing to be strong for his brother. “The last thing I heard was her scream,” Sam clung to his brother like a child, still covered in his wife’s blood but not caring. “I should’ve been paying more attention!”

“Sammy, c’mon, man, you can’t think like that,”

Dean patted his back in a vain attempt to calm him. “Bad shit happens all the time, okay?” he blinked and felt hot tears fall down his face. “To good people, and this was just one of those bad things. C’mon, little brother. Let’s get you home, okay? I’ll take care of everything.”

It took everything Dean had, but he pulled his baby brother to his feet and hauled him away from the wreckage. A million and one thoughts and emotions ran through Dean’s mind, but he kept coming back to Sam.

Sam and his broken dreams, years of guilt finally erased, only to be heaped back on him all over again.

Sam, who’s heart was heavier than his body.  

“‘S gonna be okay, Sam.” Dean murmured, knowing nothing he could say would help, but there was one thing he could do: be there for him. Now more than ever. 

TAGGING THE USUAL SUSPECTS

@kazchester-fanfiction @holywaterbucketchallenge @browneyesandbadjokes @bookshido@oriona75@justanotherdeangirl25 @deansgirlria @possesstiel @ashleymalfoy@superapplepies@mrswhozeewhatsis @balthazars-muse @blacktithe7 @kelsey-spn@ohfora67impala @idjits-and-fanfics @sqrzos @fandommaniacx@superkittycas @why-pace-why@growleytria@letsgetoutalive @kittenofdoomage @ajspencer1892 @bowties-scarves-and-impalas @stephizzle94 @winchester-writes @poemwriter98 @thetalesofmooseandsquirrel@spnfangirl1965 @i-really-love-fanfiction@descentofthe-losechesters @sleep-silent-angel@busybee612 @growningupgeek @gloria1097@faegal04 @with-the-words-all-wrong @cdesi14@lady-lynnscythe @irishdoll80@shinyjeffersonstarship @teamfreewill-imagine @treasurecastiel@thebescht @singingflames@ellen-reincarnated1967 @latinenglishfandomblog @pulgapelayo18@rowdyhooliganism@blushingsamgirl @bkwrm523 @supernaturalgeekygal @vic-shadowz @elise-8t @killerofthesouth@dauntlessdiva @little-red-83 @lady-of-the-bunker @grumpy-kittycas@dprather@driverpicksthemuusic @casisanidjit @torn-and-frayed @jojomonsterbunni @sassy-ginger-power@ruuuuuskimychica @rehvalantsfiction @angelwriter11 @thefallenisredeemed@hellboundhunters@adriellej @fanfics-spn @superwholockmachine  @msimpala67@rizlow1 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @manawhaat @thinkwritexpress @beriala @i-love-my-so-called-emo-bands@mamasam67 @impaladrama67 @all-hail-the-queen-of-hell @impalapossible@hardertobreatheat-night @potterheartedwinchesterinvested @sassysupernaturalsweetheart @deanwinchester-af @belfiore94 @idreamofhazel @16wiishes @sandlee44 @chaos-and-the-calm67@crazysocklovingfangirl @tolieboy @rayna-blue @alaneilson @nicolejones412 @just-a-touch-of-crowley @mindlessnerd89

Behind The Story - Pt. 12

Summary: The reader is Jensen’s girlfriend (fiancé) and also a cast member of the show. Discover their journey to parent hood and marriage as they go.

Author: deanwinchester-af

Characters: Jensen, Reader, Jared and Cast Cameos.

Pairings: Single!Jensen x Actress!Reader

Words: 2K

Warnings: Implied Smut.

MASTERLIST

Disclaimer: NO HATE TOWARDS DANNEEL!

A/N: I’M BACK!!!!! This part is an entire flashback.

THANKS FOR READING AND ENJOY♥

Keep reading

Cursed by Lust

Summary:You’re hit by a curse from a witch that causes you to have lust-filled dreams about a certain Winchester.  

Characters: Reader, Dean

Word Count: Seriously, it’s the shortest ever.

Warnings: smutty dreams, language, slight nsfw gif?

A/N: This is really short and crappy. But after a really really rough 3 weeks, I wanted to try and get back to some normality and write something. There will be another part to this at some point..

Keep reading

Imagine Dean having feelings for you but trying to not let it show.

“Hey.” he greeted with a nod the person at the front desk, walking inside the shop and looking at the food all around him. 

Getting Charlie’s snacks was the best way to leave an get away from that book even for a little while.He needed some air, but he hatted having said no when you asked to go with him.

He grabbed a bag of chips here, some drinks he knew she and you actually liked and turned towards the cashier. He picked two small bags of candy that was there and placed on the counter as well.

His eyes fell on a row of stuffed animals. He knew he shouldn’t be looking at them for so long, much less actually be interesting in the thought that run through his mind but- He couldn’t help it. You could be such a child when it came to toys like this and as much as you denied it Dean knew you had a stuffed animal or two in your room somewhere. Besides, truth be told they looked pretty cute; there would be no harm in buying one of them for you right?

Well, unless you were friends. But you were. Best friends actually but- as much as Dean wanted to stay macho and pretend that there was nothing going he couldn’t deny it. He’d been hiding it for so long except for these small kinds of moves that let everything show. He was glad you were so adorably clueless and never took notice.

With a roll of his eyes and a ‘Screw it’ he grabbed one and threw it along with the rest of the food. He was being cheesy as hell, but it wasn’t the first time with you. He was going to play it off with a ‘Don’t get used to it’ and roll of his eyes.

“Uh add that too.” he gave the person a tight smile.

“Special girl?” he raised an eyebrow and Dean sighed.

“You could say.”

10x18 | Book of the Damned

Don’t Let Me Go

Request: A Bucky x Reader fic based on the song Don’t Let Me Go by Harry Styles. 

Word Count: 1,190

Warnings: Slight angst. But mostly fluff.

A/N: Hope you all like!! 

Bucky looked around the room he had just finished trashing. The adrenaline was seeping out of him, leaving behind the pain and grief of having lost you. His hand rose to clutch at his chest as each breath became more painful than the last one. Running to the bathroom, he dry heaved into the toilet, knowing very well nothing would come out. All he’s had the past few hours was alcohol.

Keep reading

Send the Pain Below - Part 13

Word Count: 3016

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, Drug use, PTSD, mild suicidal thoughts, gore, violence, stalking, kidnapping, character death(s), medical situations. 

A/N: I’m sorry guys….I’m so so sorry.

Send the Pain Below Masterlist

Two weeks after Burbank you found yourself right back where you started. You were barely eating, you couldn’t sleep and when you did it was often fitful and full of nightmares. You’d become incredibly jumpy, to the point where people announced their presence to you before opening your door or walking in a room when you had your back turned. Everyone seemed to be walking on eggshells around you and you hated it. You hated being the reason that everyone’s lives were turned upside down. You hated being the reason that everyone was in danger. But the thing you hated the most was that you started using again as soon as you came home from Burbank, the stress of the situation becoming too much.

You were lying to everyone; your therapist, your rehab counselor, your friends, your family, but worst of all you were lying to Jensen. You figured out just how much of everything you could take so your high wasn’t noticeable. You’d also stopped all the medications your therapist had put you on, pretending to take them every morning but secretly throwing them down the drain. You wanted to tell him, you’d started to so many times, but something in your brain wouldn’t let you.

Keep reading

Send the Pain Below - Part 12

Word Count: 2753

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, drug use, ptsd, anxiety, panic attacks, stalking, angst

A/N: Was not gonna post this until later but fuck it I feel like it so here you go.

Send the Pain Below Masterlist

“I am begging you, don’t do this.” Jensen looked at the detective who was pulling you away from him, taking you to a cell of your own. “She needs help let me take her home, man. Look at her. She’s panicking.” Your face had turned a pale white, your breathing was erratic and you were sweating. The cuffs on your wrists threw you straight into a panic attack, and Jensen wasn’t allowed to touch you.

“I have to take her in. We have medical on site. They can help her.” Detective Robbins said, almost coldly to Jensen, and pulled you further away. He led you down a hallway and into a sterile white room with a cot, sitting you down on it. You saw the needle coming at your arm and shook your head, trying to tell them not to give you anything, but the words wouldn’t come out over the gasps for air, and everything soon faded to black.

Jensen never left the building, calling your lawyer, Kathy, as soon as they dragged you away. He demanded to see the tapes of what actually happened inside that room over and over with no luck, until Kathy came barreling in. The moment she laid eyes on you, she knew they’d done something very wrong. You were completely unconscious inside a cell, not responding when she yelled your name. She stormed back out, demanding to know what happened.

“She was mid panic attack.” Robbins sighed. “We had to stop it. You have to know, I don’t want to arrest her and keep her. I truly don’t. But she battered him…”

“What the hell did you give her?” Jensen snapped. Detective Robbins looked through some papers to find out, finally finding what he needed.

“Looks like…an Ativan injection.” He shrugged. “Pretty standard protocol.”

“She took a Xanax before she came here!” Jensen stood up, moving toward the door. “Did you ask her? Let me see her. Now.”

“Mr. Ackles…” Detective Robbins started before your lawyer cut him off.

“Detective Robbins, I think we’re done here.” She said. “That psycho grabbed her and pulled her into the bars. She reacted accordingly. I fully understand she touched him first, but you can’t prove she posed a threat. There was nothing threatening about what she did on video. And now…you drugged her against her will with no knowledge of her medical history. You could’ve killed her. Release her, now, before it gets any further.”

“Fine.” Robbins nodded his agreement, standing up and leading Jensen to your cell. He unlocked it, letting Jensen in and he rushed over to you, sitting you up and leaning you against him.

“Hey, baby. Time to go. Come on.” He shook you a bit and your eyes opened halfway, struggling to focus. He stood up, wrapping his arm around you for support and making sure you could walk, before he guided you out to his car and buckled you in the passenger seat.

“J?” You croaked, turning your head to face him as he drove. “What the hell happened?”

“The morons there gave you a fucking Ativan injection without knowing your medical history.” He was seething, white knuckling the steering wheel and clenching his jaw. “I called Kathy. She got you out. No charges. And you know what? You should’ve killed him. No one in their right mind would put you in jail for that.”

“J…it’s ok…calm down.” You extended your hand out and laid it on top of his hand that was resting on his knee. “I snapped. I would’ve deserved whatever I got.”

“Like hell you deserve it.” He growled. He parked at his apartment and came around to open your door, helping you out of the car. “Are you ok? Do you need a doctor or something?”

“No.” You shook your head and leaned into him, letting him walk you in. “I just need to sleep it off.”

Once you got inside, you crawled right into bed, not bothering to change out of your clothes or take off your shoes. As soon as your head hit the pillow you were out. Jensen sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, taking your shoes off for you before he laid next to you, rubbing your back and secretly checking to make sure you were breathing. ******************************************************************************************** A few days later you found yourself in New Jersey for another convention. Jensen had gone to therapy with you the day after you were arrested, just like he promised. Hearing him talk about how he was willing to do anything to help you because he loved you so much made you break down in tears but it also gave you a new resolve to get better. They prescribed some new medications and you were doing alright as far as staying away from the drugs. The side effects of your new medications were the new problem.

You felt like a prisoner in your own mind. You’d become emotionally detached from everything and everyone, almost robotic, and people were definitely starting to notice the change. Especially Jensen.

“Are you two gonna do another sickeningly cute duet?” Kim asked, sitting down across from you in the green room and propping her feet on the table. You barely heard her, too involved with staring at the label of your beer bottle. Jensen noticed and jumped in to save you.

“Only if she wants to.” He chuckled and wrapped his arm around you, squeezing a little and bringing you back to earth. “You gonna sing with me tonight, babe?”

“No.” You didn’t hesitate, shaking your head slowly. “Not tonight. I’m sorry.” He kissed your temple and pulled away, smiling at you with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hey, don’t apologize. If you don’t want to you don’t have to.” He kissed you again before Rob called him to the stage and he ran out to raucous applause. Normally you would peak through the curtain to watch him sing with Briana and Kim. They got up and ran over to the curtain, giggling and sliding it open just enough to see him. You stayed in your seat, staring down at the floor.

“Y/N?” Briana turned around and you looked up, meeting her concerned eyes. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah.” You nodded and stood up, putting your hands in your back pockets. “I’m just tired. I’m gonna go back to our hotel and get some sleep.” Brian heard you and stood up, walking you out to the SUV and taking you back to the hotel. You got up to the room and changed into one of Jensen’s shirts that you’d stolen and laid down on the bed. You rolled onto your side and faced the wall, hoping sleep would find you.

“Where’s Y/N/N?” Jensen questioned when he came backstage, looking around for you. “Bathroom or something?”

“No.” Briana shook her head. “Brian took her back to the hotel. She said she was tired.”

“Is she alright?” Kim asked. “I haven’t heard from her in days and now she’s not sticking around for the after party…”

“Yeah.” Jensen sighed. “Long story short they’re trying new medication and it’s working. I mean, the cravings and the anxiety are gone, but I think they stole her personality too.”

“Poor thing can’t catch a break can she?” Kim sighed sadly, grabbing Jensen’s hand. “She’s lucky to have you, Jensen. Without you…”

“I don’t wanna think about that.” His voice cracked and he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m gonna head back to the hotel too. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

He made his way back and slid into bed next to you, wrapping his arms around you. Normally you would’ve turned to face him and eventually sprawl out on top of him in your sleep. The last few nights you hadn’t done that, and this night was no different.

The panels on Sunday went by in a blur. You barely spoke and people were talking about your normal bubbly personality being completely gone. You couldn’t get out of there fast enough once everything was over. ******************************************************************************************** Monday morning you were scrolling through your phone, laying in bed next to a sleeping Jensen. You opened your Facebook and saw you were tagged in a huge amount of photos from New Jersey and opened them up, sliding through them to see if any of Jensen and you caught your eye. You started absently reading through the comments, which ended up being a huge mistake.

Is Y/N just high all the time now? I mean look at her. Those glassy eyes, no personality. She was completely wasted.

Are we sure that was Y/N and not a really bad shapeshifter?

Jensen said she didn’t sing because she was tired. More like high.

“Morning.” Jensen stretched and rolled over, wrapping an arm around your waist. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You shrugged, scrolling through more and more of the same kinds of comments and letting out a loud sigh. “Am I really that bad?”

“What do you mean?” He questioned, kissing your shoulder and resting his chin on it, trying to get a good look at your phone.

“I mean, since I started this medication. Do you think it’s turning me into a zombie? Because I feel like one.”

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about it.” He admitted. “I was waiting to see if things would change, but they’ve been getting worse and I’m worried. I think you should see if you can switch.”

“I don’t even have an appointment this week.” You sighed, running a hand through your messy hair. “Too busy. Filming, another con. I guess I can call.” Jensen booped your nose as he rolled out of bed, making you giggle. He went to go brush his teeth and make breakfast while you made the call to your therapist.

“You’ve gotta be kidding.” You groaned to yourself and hung up your phone, dragging yourself to the kitchen and plopping down in a chair, resting your chin in your hand. “What’s wrong?” Jensen questioned. “You look like someone stole all your gummy bears or something.”

“The doctor is on vacation until next week.” You grumbled. “So I’m stuck like this until then.”

“Sorry, baby.” He pouted and nuzzled into your neck. “We’ll just have to make the best of it.”

“How am I supposed to go to a con like this?” Your hands flung out in defeat. “I don’t feel anything. I’m not…me. And they know. All those Facebook comments I read this morning were horrible. They all assume I’m high.”

“Yeah but you know you’re not.” He mumbled against your hair. “That’s all that really matters, right? I mean, you can explain it if you want. But I don’t think you should feel obligated to give out all that info if you don’t want.”

You turned your head to the side and captured his lips with yours. “You’re amazing you know that?”

“It’s been said.” He nodded and you slapped his chest while you giggled. “Plus, you seem ok right now maybe the side effects are going away.”

“No.” You sighed, letting your head drop back. “It’s because I haven’t taken anything yet so it’s wearing off. I thought the same thing a couple days ago.” You trailed off, thinking over what you’d just said. “Maybe I can just skip it Saturday and Sunday. Shouldn’t be a big deal, right?”

“No.” He said in a commanding tone. “You can’t skip doses you know that.”

“Ugh fine.” You groaned, putting your head in your hands and rubbing your eyes. “I’ll figure something else out then.” ******************************************************************************************** It was Saturday night when it happened. Right before the concert in Burbank. You’d spent all day trying to be you again, despite the crappy side effects of your medications, and it was exhausting. You had run back to the hotel to grab some new clothes, having spilled almost an entire bottle of wine on what you were wearing. You made a mental note never to offer to pour wine for Briana, Kim, or Ruth ever again.

“Where the hell are you?” You were digging through your bag for your comfiest t-shirt. You hadn’t bothered to put the clothes in any of the hotel drawers; you never thought it mattered since you weren’t there long. After a good 5 minutes of digging through your unfolded clothes, you got so annoyed you turned the suitcase over and dumped everything out, a small rattle catching your attention.

With everything out of it, you saw a bulge underneath some Velcro and opened it up, finding a bottle of Adderall you’d stashed in there months ago. “This could work.” You twirled the bottle back and forth in your hand, weighing the pros and cons. The final deciding factor, you told yourself, was the fact that you hadn’t technically been addicted to this. It was fine to use on an as needed basis. Without thinking about it anymore, you opened it up and took one while you kept looking for your shirt.

The concert went great once you got back. You sang, you danced; you had the most fun you’d had in the last few weeks. The crowd was really into you, leaving all kinds of comments on all your social media pages. You even went live on Facebook for the first time since you’d been attacked.

“What the hell got into you tonight?” Jensen chuckled when you got back to your room together. “You were amazing.”

“No idea.” You lied and shrugged your shoulders, pulling his over shirt off and attacking his lips with yours, biting down on his bottom lip until he let your tongue in, fighting for dominance with his own.

“Whatever this is…” He pulled back, chest heaving, “I’m loving it.”

“Me too.” You nodded and smiled, tackling him onto your bed.

The next morning you were up before Jensen, opting to take the Adderall again in lieu of what you should’ve been taking. It was well worth it, you rationalized, because it gave the fans the real you and not some medicated zombie version.

You were pretty much done for the day when you started feeling lightheaded and dizzy. You made your way into an empty conference room of the hotel and sat down for a minutes, trying to get your bearings. You knew you couldn’t stay long without Brian, Clif, and Jensen tracking you down, but you just needed the few minutes alone.

You took the time to look at your phone, seeing several missed calls and several voicemails had been left. You put your passcode in and went to your voicemail, listening to the first message.

Y/N this is Detective Robbins. He’s out. He escaped sometime last night. Wherever you are, be vigilant or get out.

Your blood ran cold as you listened to the rest of the voicemails, all saying the same thing with increasing urgency. You stood up quickly, trying to get to Jensen and security as quick as you could but the dizziness overwhelmed you. Your vision started to blur and you tried to make a call to Jensen to tell him where you were, but your hands wouldn’t cooperate. Your phone fell from your hand at the same time your knees buckled and black spots clouded your vision until everything was black.

“Y/N!” Clif, Brian, Jensen, and Jared were running down the halls yelling your name, trying to find you. When the detective couldn’t reach you he’d called Jensen. When he couldn’t reach Jensen he was able to get Clif who immediately sprung into action.

“Hello there, sweetheart.” A man was standing right above you unconscious body, bending down and putting his hands under your knees and back. “You’re so pretty when you’re asleep…” The door opened and he quickly dropped you, letting you fall to the ground with a thud before he ran out the other door, sight unseen.

“Y/N! Hey!” Clif knelt down next to you, turning you onto your back. You groaned a little, opening your eyes and looking at him. “What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know.” You mumbled and sat up. “I got lightheaded so I came in here for a minute and then I checked my voicemail and I was trying to get to you.”

“We gotta get you out of here, right now. Come on.” He pulled you up and you noticed a piece of paper shoved into your pocket. You pulled it out, finding a Polaroid of yourself laying alone on the floor.

Send the Pain Below - Part 13 (coming soon) 

Tags:  @letsgetoutalive @aprofoundbondwithdean @pb-5minutefanfiction @faith-in-dean @blacktithe7 @nothingeverdies @thegirlwiththeimpala @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @holywaterbucketchallenge @sis-tafics @deanwinchester-af @a-girl-who-loves-disney @sharenaloveyoux @winchesterwhisper  @ellen-reincarnated1967 @manawhaat @winchesterenthusiast @captainwinters16 @imbatman-79 @sammysbadluck @batmmgray @duherica @funkykatlove @debdebdebbie @little-red-83 @d-s-winchester @teamfreewill-imagine @xdreamxloverx @deandoesthingstome @dreamsfromthebunker @deans-cherry-pie1 @jordan0ella @deniewinkle @iwantthedean @ackleholic96 @bloodysideofhell @its4everjenny @temptingsammy @storylover27 @mysupernaturalfics @kittycat-cas @moonlitsunset3 @cuddle-me-muke @descentofthe-losechesters @cassgracie @nichelle-my-belle @deanlover7712 @abaddonewithya @sassysupernaturalsweetheart @panic-everywhereabouteverything @too-much-winchester @feelmyroarrrr @fandommaniacx @raeganr99 @theerinpage @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit @soaringeag1e @not-moose-one-shots @one-shots-supernatural @faithlovesupernatural @clarewinchester @melyssamariev @claire7475-fanfic @boredoutofmymindstuff @sincerelysaraahh @littlegreenplasticsoldier @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @superkaz-2y5 @deansbaekaz2y5 @thinkwritexpress @growningupgeek @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @crosssroads-deanmon @vaisabu @thetalesofmooseandsquirrel @badgalwinchester @mysaintsasinner @moonstonemystyk @spnfangirl1965 @its-my-perky-nipples @jensen-jarpad @team-free-will-family @silver-and-green @clariedelalune @daydreamingintheimpala @supernatural0826 @evilrocknroll @assbuttwritings @deanslittleangel2y5 @ssmar @starlingfalls @danceswithjensen @too-much-winchester @angelofwinchester17 @marylovessherlockandioan @bakabozza @kduran04 @english-poison4 @jamrsgang @pandazombie69 @purple-blommie @bethypoo93 @the-freaks-struggle @iwriteshortstuff @zuzannaantczak-mishacollins @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @spnrvt @beyond-the-nights-world @kpkarlee @mayfeather27 @destiel67bellarke @castielohcastiel @tiffanycaruso @carryonmydoctorphan @supernatural-jackles @idkbruhwhatever @irishdoll80 @ruined-by-destiel @supernotnatural2005 @sleep-silent-angel @tardis-is-mine @fernandasvaldi @hasta-impalasta @summoningsupernatural @gabavaldman @appleschloss @drkwngdangl @jamezverusaum @19lynda81 @supernatural508  @piratesmagicandstorybooks @thedancingnerdmermaid @willowing-love @supermonkeypizza @sammyxorae @arikas5744 @randomrainbowzebra @inmysparetime0 @wickedinspirations @malecftstydia @choover123456789-blog @stumptastic221b @supernaturalstarbug @kittenofdoomage @a-moose-in-plaid @unhealthyobsessionwithspn @paulis0499 @soab1967 @supernaturallyfiction @superslutural @dancingalone21 @mrs–comatose @mspseudonymwho @askredwing @for-the-love-of-dean @lovelifelovebooks @16wiishes @rindulacre @badbitchesofsupernatural @fantasticimpaladoctor @disassociativedogma

Send the Pain Below - Part 11

Word Count: 2131 

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Drug use, Language, PTSD, Anxiety, Depression, Stalking, Violence

A/N: Please send feedback! I love hearing what you guys think! 

Send the Pain Below Masterlist

Jensen woke with a smile, caressing the stray hair that had fallen out of your ponytail and moving it behind your ear, moving his hand down your naked back and rubbing up and down your spine. He rested his other hand against your hip, tracing the infinity tattoo and the word ‘always’ that was embedded within it. You were draped across him, barely touching the bed at all. Your ear was against his heart and your lips were just slightly parted, but he could feel your breaths tickling his skin, suppressing the chuckle so he wouldn’t wake you. He considered trying to detach himself from you and making you both lunch, since it was almost noon, but he decided against it. Instead, he gripped you tighter and smiled when the happy sigh escaped your lips and you smiled in your sleep. He was content to lay there with you until you woke up, however long that took.

An hour later you let out a long breath and moved your arm up, gripping Jensen’s shoulder and kissing his chest. “Hey. You awake now?” He whispered.

“Mmhmm.” You mumbled, resting your chin on his chest and looking up at his face. “It’s too early.”

Keep reading