Summary: You’ve known them for years… You could always run to the Winchester boys for an escape of daily life. With their dumb fairytales of hunting the Supernatural, to their idiotic stories of breaking into the public pool – and getting arrested.
You knew them, or at least… You thought you did. What happens when rumors begin to leak through small-town Lawrence, Kansas about your best friends and their family? How will you and the boys handle new threats? More importantly, will you survive The Beast of Kansas…?
Warnings: Mentions of death, smut warning, cursing, blood/gory battles, death threats, kidnapping/ almost rape, slight mention of drug use, alcohol consumption, rival packs, angst
Chapter Warning: I mean... Heavy making out? Slightly implied smut undertones? There’s mention of being slapped, but that’s as far as it goes.
“Dammit, Sam! It’s 4 o’clock in the morning!” I hissed, climbing out of the passenger seat of Baby as Sam grinned, watching as I quickly shut the door before rounding the Impala. “But… Thank you for tonight, Loverboy.” I grinned, leaning against the door before turning my head and pressing a chaste kiss to the edge of his lips. “Don’t wreck, I want to see you later.” I winked before quickly jogging up towards my house; half-praying, half-hoping my father was passed out for the night.
The purr of Baby slowly taking off gave me a wave of relief as I quietly opened the front door, grimacing as I noticed the kitchen light illuminating the living room. Toeing off my work boots, I moved through the house silently before leaning against the kitchen archway, frowning at the sight before me. My father laid up on the kitchen table with a bottle of his oldest whiskey in hand, a little less than half the bottle drank.
“Oh, Daddy… What am I going to do with you?” I sighed, rubbing at my temple before carefully moving towards him. Gently grabbing the bottle from his clenched hand as I rubbed my short nails down his neck, causing him to stir.
“What’s -- What time is it?” He groaned, rubbing the heel of his palm into his forehead as I frowned, clearing my throat as I went to lift him from his seat when he suddenly went deadweight.
“Daddy, it’s 4 in the morning, you need to get to bed,” I whispered, hoping to keep my voice down and low enough to where it didn’t trigger any anger inside of him. Before I could try to lift him again, he suddenly jumped up from the seat, knocking me backward into the cabinets with a grunt.
“Dad quit it!” I growled lowly, sitting against the cabinet with a wince. I watched as he stumbled around the kitchen, grumbling to himself before his eyes finally settled on me. “Ba... Baby girl? What’re you doing out of beeed?” His voice trailed while his words rolled together. I clenched my teeth and stood, quickly moving towards him with a frown as I wrapped my arm around his, he was quick to shove me away.
“Would you stop it!? I’m trying to help you!” I huffed before going to move towards him again when my face was suddenly thrown to the right, a burning and stinging sensation working its way up through my cheek to my temple. The room seemed to grow quiet, the only sounds being my father’s heavy and drunk panting while my short breaths followed.
“Baby… Baby girl, I didn’t -- I didn’t mean-”
“Piss off.” I hissed, quickly moving around him and marching upstairs to my bedroom, trying to keep the tears at bay as I blocked out the sounds of my drunk father stumbling through our kitchen and dining room to follow after me.
Reaching my bedroom, I slammed and locked my door before quickly moving towards my bed, collapsing onto the soft mattress with a huff. My tears gently cascaded down my stinging cheek, the burn seemed trapped beneath the skin and into my jaw as I rolled my lips together. Sitting up slowly, I glanced towards my mirror and gasped -- his wedding ring caught me, causing a large gash to rip into my soft cheek.
“Dammit,” I grumbled before moving towards the mirror, my darkened room not assisting in showing just how bad the damage was. Shifting my weight, I quickly began to undress and tug on shorts and a loose tanktop before moving towards my window, only to pause as the loud banging started on my bedroom door. Sitting against my window seal, I peered back at my bedroom door with fiery hate -- I’ve always hated this part of the night. Always hated the stench of liquor and vomit that sunk down into the carpet. Always hated the thoughts that would run through my mind as I sat in my room listening to my father wail and growl to himself. Always hated the moments where I would stand there, ready for the day, only to pause the happiness upon seeing him passed out in the hallway.
Swallowing thickly, I threw my legs over the ledge, hooking them into the broken panels and with a huff pushed off the side. Landing on my side, I groaned before stumbling up, stealing a glance towards my bedroom window before rushing down the sidewalk with my cheeks still wet, my skin still burning, and my heart still in shatters.
----
Heavily panting, I thrust my left fists into the bag, then my right -- left, right, left, right. The pattern never faltering as heavy grunts passed my pinched lips. After I had dropped Y/N off, I decided to take towards the gym, not wanting to head home and wake the house with any… ‘Fits’.
My anger focusing on one man in particular… Snarling, I allowed an audible growl to pass from my throat as I paused the hits, latching onto the bag with thick nails before slowly dragging them down, leaving trails behind as sand slowly leaked. Huffing, I yanked my hands back before jumping up, round-house kicking the bag towards the front.
A sudden yelp catching my attention as I rushed forward, growing wide-eyed at the sight of Y/N slowly rising from the floor. “Oh, no..” I hastily whispered before jumping from the ring, quickly moving towards her as she huffed, glancing behind her at the wrecked bag.
“Y/N, oh God, I’m so sorry! I -- I didn’t see you in time, and by the time the bag was in the air-”
“Sam… Did you - Did you KICK that off its chain?” She gasped as I arched a brow, glancing over my shoulder at the slowly swinging thick link chain. Turning back towards her, I couldn’t help but chuckle at the impressed, err astonished look on her face.
“Heh… Would you believe me if I said dad has been training me?” I winced as she scoffed, throwing a hard punch into my bicep. “Oh, shut up, there’s no way you’re dad… Taught you on how to decapitate someone in one frail kick!” The teasing in her voice wavered as I smirked, only to quickly frown. Taking a step closer, I reached out and gripped underneath her chin, snarling at the bright, meaty pink mark, along with a thin gash had made it’s home on her skin.
“Who did that..?” I tensed as she dropped her chin away, frowning as I clenched my jaw, taking a step closer whilst grabbing her hands in mine. “Y/N, sweetpea, hey… You can talk to me,” I whispered as she quickly shook her head, sighing before turning her attention towards my hands; tugging at my fingers or just twiddling with them.
“I’m… It’s fine, Sam, okay? Nothing bad has happened-”
“He hit you, Y/N! HIT. YOU.” I lightly hissed, going to pull away, yet her grip grew tighter.
“Yeah, I kind of realize that, Samuel, but… But it hasn’t gotten any worse!” She shrugged, slowly loosening her grip as I stood there, staring at her with wild and wide eyes.
“You’ve… Y/N, you’ve got to be kidding me-”
“Sam, what did I ask you!? Stop worrying about me - besides that’s my home and my father! I’m not… I’m not going to just abandon it and him,” she growled, suddenly turning her attention to the polished wood floor as I tilted my head, furrowing my brows as I watched a few tears slip down her cheeks. “I’m not my mother.”
Any trace of anger dissipated as I frowned, wiggling one of my hands out of hers and swiping my thumb down her soft skin, lightly grinning as she leaned into my touch. She accepted it…. Even after what her father did.. I grinned down at her before slowly trailing my hand up her throat, my short nails gently scratching her warm skin as she sighed as my thumb caught her chin, tilting it up.
“No. You’re not. And I know you’re not, sweetpea… You’re strong,” I paused, dragging my thumb up from her chin, catching her bottom lip. “Beautiful.” Trailing up, I caught the edge of her lips as she pressed them up, gently kissing the pad of my thumb causing a rumble to course through my chest. “Brilliant.” Taking my other hand, I reached up and brushed a loose piece of hair behind her warm ear. “Stubborn,”
“Hey, you’re supposed to name GOOD things about me, Winchester.” She gently growled as I chuckled, nodding before bending down slowly as she glanced up, her e/c glittering under the amber lights.
“Sometimes stubbornness can be a good trait, Turner.” I grinned as she scoffed, going to turn away before I caught her chin again, leaning down until our noses barely brushed together. Our hot breaths fanning over each other’s lips. Swallowing thickly, my Adam's apple bobbing as I glanced down into her eyes.
“Y/N… You have to tell me if you want this,”
“Why?”
“Because,” I whispered while leaning forward, dragging my feet as she walked backward before her back planted itself against the wall. “The moment I start kissing you, I won’t be able to stop.” I lightly growled, moving my face from her lips to the side of her neck with a throaty growl. Gently leaning in, I pressed a chaste kiss to her tensed muscle, only to have her hands suddenly grab my cheeks and chin, dragging my face back up to hers, bringing it closer as she flicked the edge of her tongue out, wetting her lips.
“Then, don’t.”
----
Sam’s eyes seemed to flicker with something -- something dangerous yet… Safe. I moved his face closer, our lips brushing against one another as I dragged one of my hands up, entangling it through his hair. One of his hands flew up, catching himself on the wall by my head as I gasped, clenching my jaw as he pressed himself against me before hungrily biting onto my bottom lip, pulling it until I growled. Turning my head, I captured his lips in my own as they moved against each other, neither working together or trying to find a rhythm as I hungrily ate at his lips. I gasped, Sam immediately deepening the kiss, as his free hand reached down, cupping part of my ass, lifting me from the ground as I quickly wrapped my legs around his waist with a gentle whimper.
“Sam.” I breathed as he kissed down my jaw, lightly nipping while moving down my throat, biting and sucking at the flesh as I growled, taking a fist full of his hair and tugging him back from my bruising, hot throat. “Samuel.” I snarled, leaning down and attacking his throat. My teeth grazing across his salty yet heavenly scented skin, my tongue swirling as I groaned before gently sinking in my teeth.
Sam gasped, growling from deep in his belly as he suddenly yanked me off the wall, dragging his free hand up my lower back and up my tank top as I huffed, still working on the bruises that littered his throat. He suddenly stepped into the ring, my back colliding with the hard plastic cover with a grunt. His lips attaching back to my own with an animalistic growl.
“Y/N, God, sweetpea… You,” Sam groaned, moving from my lips to my throat again before taking a deep inhale making me flush red. “You smell so good.” I audible swallowed as he dipped his head down, nuzzling his nose into my throat before gently kitten licking at the bruises that marked my warm flesh.
My lips felt numb -- a good numb. The type of numb some people only dreamed about. My throat held a heavy pulse, the blood rushing everywhere as I sighed through my nose, inhaling Sam’s scent that had basically pressed into my clothes. Reaching up, I drag my nails down Sam’s throat and shoulder, while admiring the masterpieces that littered his neck with shades of purple and red.
“Those colors are definitely your shade, Loverboy Samuel,” I smirked as he scoffed, leaning up, keeping both of his hands at the sides of my head as the gym filled with our pants, along with the scent of sweat and… Lust.
“Oh, no, no, sweetpea… Those are your shades.” Sam bit, leaning down to emphasize as I gasped, feeling his teeth nip into my throat once more.
“Samuel, not that I don’t love being under you all sweaty and everything… But, why’d you come to the gym at-” I paused, turning my head and glaring towards the large digital clock that sat above the door. “5:45 AM?” I smiled gently as he frowned, blinking before leaning forward, taking another inhale from my throat as I sighed, finding the action somehow… Calming.
“Just… Burning through hate, sweetpea.” He shrugged as I frowned, reaching up and caressing his cheek with a sigh. “You and Dean fight again? Or, was it your dad this time?” I murmured, the tension slowly leasing into something even more comfortable as Sam sighed, shaking his head.
“It wasn’t… It wasn’t family hate.”
“Then, what was it..?” I questioned, leaning up some as Sam sat back on his calves before shrugging gently. I frowned, shaking my head as I moved and sat on my knees, grabbing both sides of Sam’s face. “Sam, please, talk to me,” I whispered, rubbing my thumbs down his cheek as he sighed, reaching up and cupping both of my hands in his large ones.
“It was your dad..”
----
Well, hopefully, you guys are enjoying this rewrite because I very much am!
for kat, tumblr awards winner
pairings: destiel, sam x eileen
word count: 7.6k
tags: no warnings apply, disney!au, beauty and the beast, canonical character deaths, creature sam, deaf character, love confessions, some gender bent characters, no gaston sorry instead you get more females, temporary MCD
ao3
His problems started long before the curse did. Truly, Castiel has been a cursed man for years. It’s only different now because he’s a damned clock with a hopeless crush rather than a very human butler of the Winchester estate with a hopeless crush.
Granted, his position as butler has not much changed, except that now he is in charge of several anthropomorphic pieces of furniture rather than a real staff and real Winchester family. Castiel has more duties now than he did then, primarily because the steward of the house, Robert Singer, has been confined to the kitchen due to his changed state as an enormous stove.
Their new realities came about one dark winter’s night. Castiel tries not to dwell on it too much, but other members of the household seem intent on keeping the tale alive.
John Winchester had just recently followed his beloved wife Mary to the grave. It was a peaceful passing, though still emotional for John’s two grown sons. Dean, as eldest, was now the head of the estate and fully prepared to take on the burdens of such a role. Per their father’s wishes, he was hosting his first dinner party as the new lord of the estate. Robert and Castiel, as well as the housekeeper Mrs. Braeden, ensured that the event was running smoothly and everything seemed perfect.
Until a haggard old woman appeared in their midst. To this day, the whole staff will swear up and down that they didn’t permit her entry, and it was solely by magic that she entered the ballroom. Dean had been quite uneasy and made his way quickly across the room to Castiel’s side.
“What on Earth is this,” he’d hissed.
“I assure you sir that I do not know,” Castiel had told him. “I shall go and find Misters Singer and Lafitte and—”
Whatever Castiel had intended to do would never come to be. Instead, Sam Winchester, a hot-headed young man, strode up to the old woman and demanded to know why she had interrupted their evening.
“Please, sir,” she mumbled, holding up a lovely red rose. Sam had only sneered at her.
“How dare you burst in on Dean’s party! Just to offer a rose? Get out of here!”
In a burst of golden light, the woman rose, taller and taller still than a normal woman. Her appearance completely changed to that of someone regal and powerful.
“Silence!” she cried, freezing Dean and anyone else who’d tried to approach. “Samuel Winchester your insolence insults me. You should know better than to be cruel to a sad, old woman.”
“My lady.” Castiel can still recall the way Sam’s bottom lip had trembled. The boy was only twelve years old. “I just—. This is a very important evening, and I—”
The sorceress had only shouted once more for silence. “You’re a fool,” she said. “A heartless wretch. And for this, your entire household shall suffer.” At this, she’d held up the rose again, glowing gold as she. “By the time the last petal falls from this rose, on the eve of your twenty-fifth birthday, if you have not yet learned to love another, your curse shall remain.”
And Dean, brave and brilliant Dean, and had run to place himself between the Enchantress and his brother.
“No!” he’d cried. “Please! You can’t—. Sam’s just a boy.”
“Cruel boys become cruel men,” she intoned, looking down her nose at Dean. “Unless you can help him see the error of his ways, you too will be cursed evermore.”
The golden glow of her magic expanded, covered the entire estate. Castiel can only recall a blinding heat, searing his very bones, before waking up on the floor of the ballroom. Her spell had been cast. Any villager present in their home at the time had been cast out, had surely woken in their beds with no memory of what had transpired—this is the conclusion they’d reached after it became obvious the villagers knew nothing of the Winchester estate, only came now to look upon its beauty and speculate about what became of the old house. The servants could do nothing to inform them, probably as part of the curse—the household staff as well as Dean had been transformed into a variety of household objects, all apparently able to survive without food, water, or trips to the washroom, all functioning perfectly even after so many years, despite any damage to their new bodies.
And really, it is Sam who has suffered the most. The sorceress had transformed him into a great beast. Speculations (well out of Sam’s or Dean’s range of hearing) got the staff nowhere; they could only guess that she had chosen parts of a variety of large predators. Wolf’s legs, claws from an eagle, enormous shoulders like a bison, a ram’s curved horns, his face disfigured, with huge canine teeth. In his more vulnerable moments, Castiel can still see Sam’s eyes, the same as ever. With each year, they grow more sad and angry and desolate.
By contrast, Dean has never, ever given up hope that the curse will be broken. He is not alone in the assertion that Sam Winchester doesn’t have a cruel bone in his body. The witch was wrong, Dean will say over and over again to his miserable younger brother, the candlelight of his head and hands bringing warmth to Sam’s bedchambers. And they’re going to fix this.
They have to fix this.
: : : : :
“A girl! A girl!”
Castiel wheezes and shoves Dean’s metal body off of himself. Glaring, he awkwardly maneuvers his smallish arms to push himself upright, and Dean is there to tug him up the rest of the way.
“Cas, did you hear?” he hisses, none too quietly.
“My, did it have something to do with you screeching ‘girl’ when you ran into me a moment ago?”
Dean rolls his eyes. “C’mon. You’re the eyes and ears of this whole place. Tell me you’ve seen the girl. Where has she gone?”
“Well considering the deal she’s struck with Sam, she’s likely in her rooms, extremely upset. Don’t you go making it—” Dean’s already run off. “—worse.”
