#:) i am unwell over this line of thinking | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonlightspencie · 2 years ago

Text

Wrong Time

Description: Dean doesn’t know how to act right. Sam doesn’t get the animosity. Reader is just trying to live life. Otherwise known as Mutual Pining: the Fanfic.

Pairing: jealous!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader, platonic!Sam Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: jealous dean :), minor angst, spells and other supernatural things, plenty of fluff

Word Count: 6.6k

A/N: originally posted on tumblr like 3 years ago (rip in peace to the like 3k notes it had). then posted to ao3. now it’s back on tumblr.

I walked into the bunker after Sam and Dean, throwing my bag down as soon as my feet hit the floor. I shuffled into the library, noticing Castiel at a table on a laptop.

“How was the hunt?” He looked up at me.

“It was crap,” Dean answered gruffly. I took a chance look at him, and he shot me a glare that could kill. “I’m taking a shower.”

Sam watched his brother stalk past. “I— it was… Fine. I mean, something almost went wrong, but we all ended up okay.”

Cas nodded slowly. Then he noticed my expression. “Are you okay, (Y/N)? You look unwell.”

“It was my fault.”

“(Y/N)—” Sam started.

“No, Sam, I mean— I was stupid. I almost got myself killed. I would have been if Dean didn’t find me first.”

“Still wasn’t your fault, we all make mistakes.”

“What do you mean you almost got killed?” Cas interjected.

I huffed a sigh, sitting next to him. Sam took a seat across from me.

“Well, we walked into the vamp nest, and started going to town. It seemed like it’d be pretty easy to take care of, but then I heard a boy crying. I went to go look for him, and— and I saw him. He was in another room, probably about 15, 16 years old. I didn’t think anything of it and went to go help him, but he… I was wrong. He was turned, just trying to get his prey to come to him, apparently.”

Cas furrowed his brow. “What happened? Are you alright?”

I absentmindedly scratched at the table.

“I am now, I guess. I set down my machete like a fricken idiot, letting my guard down, and he jumped me. I tried grabbing it to fight him off, but he kicked it out of my grip. I thought it was the end of the line until Dean came barging in and got him off me. I was so stupid, he’s pissed.”

Sam reached across, brushing his thumb over the knuckles of my now-closed fist. “Hey, don’t worry about it. We got out okay. It was just a mistake.”

“And Dean—,” Cas began, “He is… It will be alright.”

He gave a kind smile as he said this. I tried one back at him before standing up and giving a quick goodnight. As I walked to my room, I hovered by Dean’s door before thinking better of it. I hated when he was angry with me, but figured I better not upset him more by barging in on his alone time. I hated when any of the boys acted coldly towards me, but Dean’s always cut the deepest for some reason. I wouldn’t let myself think on why that is for more than a few seconds, though. I walked to my room, changing into an oversized t-shirt and flopping onto my bed, essentially passing out.

I woke up in a cold sweat, tears wetting my face. I sat straight up, trying to catch my breath. My fingers gripped the sheets as I tried to keep my cool, but to no avail. I got out of bed, walking out of my room, and heading a few doors down. I knocked quietly before entering.

“Hello?” I spoke, voice wavering. I walked towards the sleeping figure, gently nudging his shoulder. “Sam?”

He rolled over, slowly opening his eyes. “(Y/N)? What’s going on?”

I wrung my hands.

“I— I had a nightmare. I can’t be alone right now,” I said, trying to hold back tears.

“Oh. Oh, okay, yeah, come here,” He replied, sitting up and scooting over. I sat next to him, pulling the covers over my legs as he threw an arm around me. “You alright?”

“I don’t know.” I leaned into him. “It was about the hunt. Except, it wasn’t me. I mean, I still went and found the boy, but, um, when Dean came in this time he— the kid knew somehow, and attacked. I tried helping, but I couldn’t move, and then… Then they, they got him. And it was my fault. He died.”

I noticed a few tears had escaped my eyes, and I rubbed at them quickly.

Sam hugged me into his side. “I’m sorry. That’s really tough.”

I nodded.

He continued, “But, you know, it was just a dream. We all got out, we’re all okay.”

“I know, but what if we didn’t? It would’ve been on me, it would be my fault.”

“There is always a “what if” when we do the things we do, and focusing on that is only going to cause you pain. Don’t do that to yourself,” Sam sighed, laying down and taking me with him. “Dean just needs to let this go, don’t let his attitude make you feel stupid.”

I nodded again. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“Anytime, kiddo. Now, let’s go to sleep. C’mere.”

He pulled me into his chest, letting the hand that wasn’t around my shoulder rest near my rib cage. I closed my eyes, and the next thing I knew I was waking to Sam’s snoring in my ear. We’d separated during the night, but my head was still against his arm, our legs still caught up together. This put me in a predicament as I tried to move away from him without waking him. I somehow managed to wiggle out of bed, and land on my feet; thankfully Sam was a surprisingly deep sleeper. I tiptoed to the door, slowly and carefully opening it and backing out. I shut it as quietly as I could, and turned around to see Dean walking towards me, looking down at his phone, only a few feet off.

“Morning,” I greeted him.

His steps faltered slightly as he looked up. “Morning.”

His expression changed from tiredness to confusion in an instant. He furrowed his brow, looking at me, then to the door I had just stepped out from.

“I’m making pancakes. If you want some, they’ll be ready in twenty.”

I smiled, nodding a thank you before he squeezed past me towards the kitchen.

‘He’s not mad at me!’ I thought to myself.

I went into the bathroom, taking a quick shower. I wrapped a towel around myself, and headed towards my room to get dressed. We had a day in, so I decided on a fresh pair of pajama shorts and another t-shirt. The smell of pancakes drifted through the bunker, and as soon as I stepped out of my door that smell carried me all the way to the kitchen. I stopped in the entrance, watching Dean for a moment. He stood at the stovetop, watching and flipping the pancakes as necessary. I watched the way his arms and shoulders moved until his simple gray tee, and how delicately his hands held the spatula. Then he turned and noticed me.

“Hey,” he said, taking the plate-full to the counter.

He was getting a little scruffy, having not yet shaved since a couple mornings ago. He looked tired, but peaceful. He looked handsome. I chewed my bottom lip, finally stepping into the small room.

“Hey. That smells amazing.”

I walked near him as he grabbed two plates, throwing a few pancakes on each. He handed me one, and we both went to work preparing them with with butter and syrup. I was about to take mine to the table, when his hand shot in front of mine.

“I’ll take these if you want to grab the coffee pot.”

He looked down at me, the sides of his lips just barely tilting up into a smile, and I felt a familiar flutter in my heart.

“Yeah, of course,” I said, then turned quickly to grab the coffee and two mugs, trying to push down that feeling as far as it could go.

I shuffled closer to him as he sat at one side of the table. I placed the mugs in front of the plates, filling each of them and setting the pot at the end of the table. I sat across from Dean, digging in immediately.

“Okay, wow.” I shoved another forkful in my mouth. “These… These are genuinely amazing. You shook cook more often.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I got a few tricks up my sleeve. What about you, though? Anytime you bake anything I lose my mind.”

“Guess I just have that effect on people,” I shrugged laughing.

“Yeah, you’re not kidding.” He smirked and glanced up, locking eyes with me for a moment that felt like forever. I looked away first.

“Um— about… About yesterday, Dean, I—”

He cut me off, throwing a hand up. “Just— Let’s just drop it. Okay?”

I nodded, looking down. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

He took in a deep breath before things went silent for a while. We both were nearly finished when Sam came in the room, as much a morning person as ever.

“Morning, guys!” He smiled.

I couldn’t help but let out half a laugh at his cheerfulness. “You are way too excited in the mornings.”

He smiled my way.

Dean got up abruptly. “I’m gonna go work on Baby.”

As soon as he was out of the room, Sam raised an eyebrow at me. “He always goes out there when he’s upset. Did something happen? You two looked fine when I came in.”

I shook my head. “I tried talking to him about yesterday. Guess that was a mistake.”

Sam’s lips tightened. “Yikes, I’m sorry.”

I shrugged. “It’s fine. At least he let me eat his pancakes.” I smiled.

Sam laughed, “Yeah, guess that’s a start.”

We went about our day as usual; Sam worked out and looked up cases, Cas helped with case searches, Dean spent most of his day in the garage, and I decided on a movie marathon. Before long, it was later than I realized and I heard a knock on the door.

“Come in!”

Sam poked his head around the door. “What’s up? You’ve been in your room all day.”

“Oh, no worries. Just a movie marathon. Harry Potter, wanna join?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and fell belly-down on the bed next to me. We watched about half of the 6th movie before we stopped watching altogether. We talked and laughed all night long until we were passed out together. This time, I woke up again to Sam’s gentle snoring, but we were much closer. His right arm was once again under my head, but his left was wrapped tightly around me, and his chest pressed into my back. Admittedly, it was a bit strange, but on a cold morning, not unwelcome. I gently rubbed his forearm, trying to wake him.

“Sammy, get up. You’re trapping me here, pal.”

He groaned sleepily, hugging me just a little tighter before he opened his eyes and realized what he was doing. “Oh crap, I’m sorry.”

I laughed, “Dont worry about it. You were keeping me warm.”

He hummed, “Well in that case, you wanna go back to sleep for a little bit?”

“Fine. Five more minutes and then we get up.”

I giggled as he pulled me back in, nearly squeezing the life out of me for a moment.

“You know, as weird as this is, it feels nice to have a cuddle-buddy,” Sam breathed out.

“Hey, at least it’s nothing too scandalous,” I chuckled, eyes closed.

Then I heard a knock at the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Castiel’s voice rang through the closed door.

“What do ya need?” I answered back. Then I heard the door open, and looked up.

He started stepping in, but stopped dead in his tracks. “I, uh— Oh. Pardon me, I seem to be interrupting.”

“Cas—” I tried getting his attention but he’d already showed himself out the door. “Crap.”

Sam chuckled, I felt it in his chest. “That’s gonna be a fun one to explain.”

I sighed. “Hopefully he doesn’t go running his mouth so it’s an easy one to explain.”

I laid with him for a few minutes longer before my bladder called for release. “Sam, we gotta get up, man. I gotta pee.”

He groaned. “I don’t want to.”

“Whoa, what happened to happy-go-lucky, I-love-being-up-in-the-mornings Sam?” I half laughed.

“He’s tired,” he grunted out, rolling over.

I flipped to my back as he stole his arm from beneath my head, and sat up. I looked over to see him struggling to get up himself, but my urgency for the bathroom left no time for me to help him up. I bolted out the door to the bathroom and relieved myself, thinking of how to explain to Cas that what he saw was not at all what he thought it was. I ended up back in my room, finding Sam staring into space still sitting on the edge of my bed.

“You alright, Sammy?” I suppressed a smile.

His head shot up. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was zoning out.”

I nodded, throwing a thumb over my shoulder. “You wanna go grab breakfast?”

“That sounds great.”

We left the room together, chatting on our way to the kitchen. Then, I nearly lost balance running into Cas.

“Oh, hey! We wanted to talk to you,” Sam said, tapping Cas’s arm with the back of his hand

He put his hands up, defensively. “No worries. I understand.”

I dragged my hand on the side of my face. “No, but you don’t. I know you caught us looking a little precarious, but trust me, we just fell asleep together. We were watching Harry Potter and passed out.”

His eyes widened. “Oh, okay. I was sure you two were sleeping together.”

I laughed, “Yeah, no. Not by a long shot, man.”

“Alright, well that definitely clears things up for me. I will see you later.”

“Seeya, don’t get into any trouble.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about me,” he smiled, walking past.

Sam and I entered the kitchen soon after, finding Dean alone with a cup of coffee and a computer.

“Morning, sunshine.” Sam joked.

I walked over to him, leaning an arm on the table next to him, peering at the screen. “Found a case?”

He nodded silently, not looking up.

“Well?” Sam pressed, peeling a banana. “Care to enlighten us?”

Deans jaw ticked for a moment before he spoke gruffly, “Looks like a ghost. Strange, but similar, deaths happening at an old motel. So far three of ‘em.”

I took the seat next to him. “Where at?”

He pointed at the screen. “Plainfield, Wisconsin.”

I perked up, grabbing his arm for a moment. “Hey, that’s where Ed Gein committed all his murders!”

“Dude, yeah!” Sam joined in. “That guy was messed up.”

Dean huffed. “Well aren’t you two just perfect for each other. Be ready in half an hour.”

He got up, slamming the laptop shut and stalking out of the room.

I looked to Sam, confused. “What the hell is his problem?”

He shook his head, “No clue.”

I shook my head, slightly irritated. “Guess we gotta go get ready now.”

I walked out of the kitchen, going in the direction of my room. I stepped inside, pulling a duffel bad from my closet and throwing in at least enough clothes for a week, not knowing how long we’d be gone. After I was packed, I decided on a quick shower. I put my hair up into a topknot so I wouldn’t have to wash and dry it, and took the fastest shower I could. I finished getting ready a few minutes early, and grabbed all my things. I was going to throw it all in the car and wait for the boys, until my irritation got the best of me. I walked to Dean’s room, knocking on the door.

He answered harshly, “What.”

“It’s me, can I come in.”

“I guess.”

I flung the door open to find Dean standing there in the midst of getting dresssed. He was at his closet, so far only having his jeans and a tight-fit tee on, and I would be lying if I didn’t say that I couldn’t catch my breath for a moment. How in the world could he look so good rocking the simplest of things?

He pulled a flannel of a hanger, the deep red one that I liked. “What do you need?”

“I want to know what’s wrong.”

He turned to face me, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “Nothing. Is that all?”

I crossed my arms. “You may do a lot of lying for the job, but you’re kind of the worst at it sometimes.”

He shot me a glance, unenthused. “Nothing is wrong. Let’s move on. We got stuff to do.”

“Dean.”

“(Y/N),” he shot back, staring for a second before going about his business.

I clenched my jaw. “I’m gonna find out sooner or later.”

He huffed out, almost a laugh, as he threw things into his bag. “Yeah. Sure.”

I turned on my heel, leaving the room, everything in me fighting against my urge to slam the door behind me. He really knew how to push my buttons, more than anyone else sometimes. The boys were finally ready and came out into the garage where I was waiting. I pushed myself off the side of the impala, getting in the car. Dean flew out of the garage, heading straight for the highway. Most of the car ride was silent, only the faint sounds of Dean’s music over the speakers. Then he had to open his mouth.

“So, you two are sleeping together now, huh?”

I almost choked, head whipping to the side to look at Sam. He did the same, glancing at me, confusion set in his face.

“What? Dean, no, why—”

“You two seemed to be getting pretty cozy the past couple nights,” he answered back, staring straight at the road.

I scoffed. “Excuse me?”

“I saw you coming out of his room yesterday morning, (Y/N), don’t act dumb. And Cas told me he walked in on you all over each other this morning.”

“That was not what was happening. We saw him this morning and explained it all. We just fell asleep watching a movie together.”

“And the night before?”

Sam spoke up, “(Y/N) had a nightmare, Dean. She couldn’t be alone.”

“What, so you slept together?” His hands held tightly to the steering wheel.

“Yes, and that’s all we did. Sleep. Nothing more, we don’t feel like that about each other.”

He bitterly laughed. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Dean, seriously.”

“Fine. We’ll drop it.”

I huffed out a breath. “Thank you.”

The rest of the ride was quiet. We only made one or two stops for gas and bathroom breaks. It took us about 10 hours before we arrived in Plainfield and searched for a place to stay the night. We finally found a little motel just outside of town, and booked a room. Luckily, a pull-out couch was included so I wouldn’t have to give Dean more ideas about Sam and I, and I wouldn’t have to spend the night beside someone who was pissed at me for no reason. I walked in the room to find it perfectly adequate. and I threw my bag down on the floor, beginning to open up the pull-out.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked as he came inside. “I can take that, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not making you take the couch, Sam.”

“It pulls out into a bed at least. And you aren’t making me if I’m offering. Now, move your crap.”

He nodded at my duffel.

I sighed as dramatically as I could, “Fine.”

“So dramatic.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, I gotta be sometimes. Thank you, though.”

I pulled my bag away, walking to the far bed as throwing it down. I began unzipping it when I heard the thud of Dean’s duffel hitting the second bed behind me. I turned.

“What are we doing first?”

He glanced up at me. “Thought we’d check out the murder scene early tomorrow.”

“Alright. All three of us need to get dressed up?”

“Whoever wants to go.” He shrugged.

“I think I’ll hang back and do some more research on the town and possible leads, if that’s okay with you guys,” Sam said, setting his laptop on the small table in the room.

“Okay,” Dean answered, pulling out his ‘FBI’ suit to hang.

We went to bed, all exhausted from the trip. I woke up at 7 the next morning to Dean’s alarm blaring. We all ate a quick breakfast before getting ready to leave. I grabbed my suit, heading to the bathroom to change, and kicking myself for not being the one to stay at the motel. I didn’t know how I’d handle being alone with Dean, especially when he was in a mood. I changed quickly, making sure I looked professional enough to fool whoever we’d have to get past. I stepped out to see that Dean had already left the room.

I looked to Sam who had already got his computer up and running. “Where’d he go?”

“Waiting by the car outside,” he said, not looking up.

“Thanks.”

I walked across the room, stepping outside. Dean stood leaning against ththe impala, his back to me as I made my way over.

He heard my footsteps and turned. “Took you long enough.”

I stopped for a moment. Wow, he looks amazing right now.

“Gonna get in?” He asked.

“Oh. Yeah.”

I shook my head, opening the passenger door and sliding inside. He started up the car, and took off out of the parking lot.

“So,” he started, “you’re not sleeping together?”

“Dean. Seriously?”

He shrugged. “Can’t blame me for thinking so, you two spend a lot of time together.”

I looked over at him. “Yeah, that’s kind of what friends do.”

“We don’t do that.” He shot me a quick glance, raising an eyebrow.

“Give me a time and place and we will, then.”

He tried to hide the smirk that appeared on his face. “Yeah, sure.”

“What? Don’t want rumors spreading about me and you?”

“Sweetheart, you don’t want those rumors.”

“Who said that?” I furrowed my brows, the corner of my mouth twitching upwards.

He smiled at me. Butterflies, again.

We drove a few more minutes into town before we reached our destination. I peered at the building through the windshield as we drove up. It was creepy. Caution tape everywhere, the old run-down motel, the cloudy skies; it looked straight out of a horror movie. Dean parked the car, and we got out, walking to the police officer that was waiting on his team inside. We flashed him our badges and he let us past.

“I’m surprised no murders happened here before this,” Dean said quietly, leaning in.

I laughed. “Yeah, not the nicest of places for sure.”

He hummed in agreement. “Let’s see if we got any Casper activity.”

He took out his EMF detector, walking around the room, being careful not to step in any of the dried blood. He took a lap; no readings.

“Huh. Nothing here.”

I glanced around. “What the hell would’ve done all of this though?”

“Dunno. Judging by how all of the blood left their bodies and ended up friggen everywhere else, I could’ve sworn it would be one of those suckers.”

I nodded. “Wanna try to hospital?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

We spent the day gathering as many clues and evidence as we could, to no avail. By nightfall, we decided to call it a day and head back to our room. We got inside to find Sam taking a nap.

Dean whispered to me, “I’m gonna take a shower.”

I nodded. He went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I decided to get dressed in something more comfortable and landed on a pair of sweats and a plain t-shirt. Can’t get more laid back than that.

I sat on my bed for a moment before I heard Sam moving around. I looked his way as he opened his eyes.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” I said.

He smiled. “Hey. You guys find anything useful?”

“Figure it’s probably not a ghost. Other than that, nope.”

“Mm.” He sat up, stretching before he stood. He walked over to me, taking a seat by my side and swinging an arm over my shoulders. “I didn’t find anything either. Not even connections between the people who died.”

“So weird.”

He agreed, falling back on the bed and taking me down with him. “Yeah. I’m sure something will turn up, though. It has to.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“You wanna go out tonight?”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m beat. I didn’t get my nap today.” I laughed.

He snorted, squeezing my shoulder. “You’re no fun.”

Then we heard the door open, Dean stepped out.

“What about you? You wanna go out tonight?” Sam asked him.

“I’m good,” he said without so much as a glance our way.

Sam sat up. “Man, both of you? Since when am I the one to go out alone?”

I chuckled, sitting up next to him. “Since now, apparently. Go, though! Have fun enough for all of us.” I nudged his shoulder.

He shrugged getting up to get ready. Then I heard the tv switch on, and looked over to Dean. There he sat, on his bed, flipping through channels.

“What are you gonna watch?” I asked.

He stared silently at the tv and shrugged. Here we go again.

I heaved out a heavy sigh, pulling out my phone to fiddle on. Sam came out of the bathroom with a new shirt on, and what smelled like a little bit of cologne. I looked up from my device as he pulled his shoes on.

“Who are you trying to impress, sir?”

He smirked. “We’ll have to find out. I’ll see you guys later.”

He left the room, leaving me and Dean to ourselves. I looked over at him again as he settled on an old comedy. He noticed.

“What?” He asked, eyes still unmoving from the movie.

“Your attitude is what.”

“I don’t have an attitude.”

I scoffed. “Oh, sure. We were fine working the case today, and now you’re acting like I stole all of your leftovers or something.”

He shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Funny how you keep saying that, and then end up in the same crappy mood again. Why won’t you just talk to me about it?”

“I can’t.” He grew impatient.

“Yes, you can.”

He sat up, finally looking at me. “No. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because, I just can’t. It’s stupid, you wouldn’t understand it.”

He stared at me.

“Maybe I would if you’d just talk to me!” My voice raised slightly.

“Why do you even care?” His voice raised to match mine.

“Why do you think? I care about you, and I hate it when you’re mad at me.”

He closed his eyes. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Then what is the problem?” I leaned forward, searching his face for an answer.

He sighed, voice lowering. “Can we— maybe we can talk about it tomorrow. Just— not tonight, please.”

I shrunk back. “Fine. Promise me.”

He tilted his head with a blank stare.

“I’m serious, Dean. Promise me.”

He let out a heavy breath. “Okay. I promise. You’re a pain, you know that?”

I shrugged. “You’ll get over it.”

He stared for a moment, my heart fluttering until he looked away again. He laid down, turning off the tv. I laid back too, turning off the lights.

“Goodnight,” he said, turning over.

“Goodnight.”

I woke up to sunlight hitting my face through the window. I glanced towards the couch; no Sam. Then my eyes went to Dean. He was still sleeping. I watched him for a moment; he looked so at peace. The lines in his face were smoothed out, no worries were apparent on him. His eyelids began to move, but I couldn’t pull my gaze from his face. He looked handsome in the early morning hours, his eyelashes delicately fluttering until his eyes were opened. He noticed me and smiled.

“Way to be creepy, watching me sleep.”

His voice was deep and soft and full of sleep.

I smiled back, “You looked so peaceful, I couldn’t help it.”

“I bet you say that to all the guys.”

I laughed. “Nah, only the special ones.”

He rolled his eyes, chuckling. “I don’t want to beat up monsters today.”

“If we can’t find out what’s killing people, you might not have to.”

“That isn’t a good option either.”

“I know.” I yawned, stretching out. “Guess Sammy found a girl.”

Dean looked over his shoulder at the empty space. “Oh.”

“You still believe we’re together now?” I raised my eyebrows.

He looked back towards me. “I might, might, have been wrong there.”

“Told ya.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “We better get the day going.”

I agreed. We fully woke up and grabbed some breakfast from a cafe down the street. We went back to the motel to find Sam in the shower, and our day went on as normal from that point on, until we found the clues we needed to lead us to the killer.

“A witch? Oh, come on, I’m so sick of them,” I complained.

Sam shrugged. “Hey, we found hex bags in each of the rooms. Most likely the owner of the motel, or someone who works there.”

“Maybe a maid? It’s always the butler, so maybe it’s always the maid too,” Dean suggested with a sly smirk.

“That, as lame as it is, actually could be a really great place to start,” I responded. “Let’s pack up and find out who’s been cleaning the place up.”

We went and questioned the owner to find out which employees had been working when the murders took place, and landed on only one housekeeper: a man named Ken. We got his address and decided to do a little questioning. We arrived to his house, and Sam knocked loudly.

The door creaked open. “Hello?”

“Hello, we’re with the FBI, we have some questions to ask you,” Sam responded, flashing his badge.

The man behind the door, opened it a little wider. He grinned. “Yeah, I’m sure you are.”

He looked to me.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

Dean stepped halfway in front of me before I could say anything. “You might want to watch yourself, you’re suspect for the murders that took place the night you were working at the motel.”

The man’s eyes widened. “Oh? Why don’t you come inside, then.”

He stepped just inside and he shut the door behind us.

“Anyways,” he began, “I’ve always wanted to meet the Winchester’s.”

Before we knew what was happening, our bodies flew up against the wall and landed on the ground harshly. We all attempted to scramble up, but as I attempted to stand, I felt a hand wrap around my neck. Ken pulled me backwards into him.

“Let her go,” Dean boomed.

Ken chuckled. “See, that’s where you’re making your mistake. Your little protective act only lets me know that your little girlfriend, here, is valuable to you. So, you might not like it if I just—”

He dropped me, and I felt my legs give out. It felt like all the air had been pulled from my lungs— No, it felt like I didn’t have lungs. I couldn’t breathe.

“You son of a—”

Thud!

Dean was slammed against the wall again. I watched from the ground where I lay as Sam attempted to go at him, but then it all went black.

I woke with a gasp, my body flying upwards in shock. I breathed heavily, finally catching my breath for the first time in what felt like eternity.

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down, you’re okay.”

I heard a voice, foggy. I turned my head quickly, finding Dean right next to me. Wait, no, he was holding me. We were someplace else, maybe in the house still? I heard distant voices. I felt tired.

“I… think I… need a nap,” I said, barely hearing myself speak.

“Whoa, no, no, don’t fall asleep, okay? Just— Here, just look at me. Look here, stay awake,” he spoke to me as I tried to listen.

My eyes still felt heavy.

“But— I’m tired. Just a… Just a nap.”

“No, (Y/N), don’t fall asleep yet, okay? We gotta make sure you’re alright.”

“What… Where are we?”

“In the house of a very bad witch.” I heard a woman’s voice. I looked up to see red hair. “I mean, come on now, I was able to fix you right up quite easily.”

“Yeah, thank you, by the way,” Sam said to Rowena, a tight smile accompanied his words. My vision began clearing.

“What are you doing here? What happened?” I cleared my throat, trying to sit up to find Dean’s chest hard against my back. I noticed his arms around me, too. I ran my fingers over one of his forearms, happy to be there. Then I realized there were two other staring at me, trying to communicate. I stopped and tried to listen.

“—and then, well, you’re lucky Sam had enough sense to call me when he realized what you’d be dealing with, otherwise, my dear, you’d be dead. Hmm.”

“Oh. How’d we get away, though?”

“It was really all me, of course.” She smiled, pleased with herself. “You’d have really been in trouble otherwise, too, with Dean letting his jealously get the best of him and punching someone in the face.”

“Yeah, well, the douche bag deserved it.” I felt him speak, the bass in his voice vibrating in his chest. “He was getting too handsy with her.”

“I would have gotten him away quicker if you hadn’t made him even more angry, Mr. Winchester,” Rowena sassed. “Anyways, I’ve got things to do more important than speaking with you two giants and the wee fuzzy-brained girl. Toodleloo.”

She picked up her dress and walked out of the house. I liked her.

“I like her,” I giggled.

I started feeling funny. Almost drunk, maybe more giddy.

“Can’t say I feel exactly the same,” Dean said.

“Regardless, she did save us there,” Sam responded.

I laughed, “Yeah, she’s fun.”

“I would’ve gotten him,” Dean continued his conversation with Sam.

“Dean, we all would’ve been in trouble if she wasn’t here. Even you’ve gotta admit to that.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He reached into his pocket for the keys, throwing them at Sam. “Here, go start the car.”

“Alright, hurry it up,” Sam said as he left.

I leaned my head up to look at Dean. “So, you were jealous, huh?”

“I am not. I just didn’t want his grimy hands on you, now come on, let’s get you back to the hotel.”

I felt movement as he began to move from behind me. I tried to stand up, but before I could, I felt his arms swing underneath me. He picked me up, and carried me out the door. I held onto his neck, enjoyed time in close proximity to him and wishing I could just tell him how I felt about him. If I could even figure it out for myself. He sat me in the backseat, helping me buckle in before we took off. Soon enough, we were back at the motel and Sam decided to go on a dinner-run. Dean and I entered the room alone, he helped me to walk until I could sit down.

“Here, just sit here,” he said, helping me to rest on the edge of his bed. He moved around me, squatting down between my legs and looking up at me. “Are you okay?”

I tilted my head, looking at him looking at me. “Yeah.”

He let out half a laugh. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I shrugged, a contented smile on my face. “You’re cute.”

“(Y/N)—”

“I figured out why you’ve been so grumpy,” I cut him off, unable to stop from speaking.

He put his hands on the bed on either side of my legs. “Why’s that?”

“I think you didn’t like me and Sam.”

“I already told you I wasn’t mad at—”

“No, no, no. You didn’t like us together. You were being jealous. Like with the weird witch man. Rowena said so, and she’s smart.” I giggled.

He raised an eyebrow, gulping. “Uh, let me get you some water. Maybe that’ll help.”

“I’m right.”

“Now’s not the time to talk about this stuff, (Y/N), let’s just—”

“Uh uh. You said we’d talk about it today.”

“We can, later.”

He tried getting up, but I put my hands on his shoulders.

“But I like you, I wanna talk now.”

“This is just the spell wearing off, if you just—”

I sighed harshly. “No it’s not, stop it. I like you a lot. You’re so cute and you give me butterflies and make me nervous and make me smile a lot and all I can think about is you all the time.”

“(Y/N)…” he started, eyebrows knit together.

“I’m not saying it because of the spell, okay?” I started rambling. “I mean, I always feel that way, but I didn’t want to say anything. You know, I was kind of scared. Now, it kinda seems like maybe you feel the same way, and I just want to know, otherwise this is gonna be really awkward when I’m not feeling all weird and giddy and I jus—”

Before I knew what was happening I felt his lips on mine. I felt shocked. I took a moment to gather my wits, but I seemed to take a moment too long. He pulled away.

“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t want to force that on you, I thought you wanted…” He trailed off, a hand going to rub at his face. I reached out, pulling it away from his face. He looked up at me, apprehensive.

“Trust me, I wanted it,” I confirmed before leaning back in as quickly as I could.

His hands moved up to settle at my waist as he smiled into the kiss. I held his jaw in my hands, pulling him in as closely as I could. I never wanted that kiss to end, but it had to soon, as we needed air. Our foreheads rested against each other.

“I have wanted to do that for so long,” I whispered.

He laughed. “I’m just happy to know that Sam wasn’t the one doing it. Because you were so right, I was definitely jealous.”

“Knew it.” I giggled.

He hummed, pulling away from me. We looked at one another for a minute, taking it all in. I let my hand reach back up to his face, my thumb brushing against his cheek, looking at all the freckles that dusted his face.

I sighed, happy. “You wanna go again?”

He chuckled, a smile on his face. “Oh, for sure.”

I slapped the bed next to me, and he scrambled up, facing me. His arms immediately snaked around my middle, pulling me in tight. I held on to his neck, gazing up at him.

“You good?” He asked, a smile stuck on his face.

“More than.” I nodded, grinning.

He pressed his lips to mine, wasting no time. We stayed like that for several minutes, enjoying our time together and hoping it would never end. Until the door swung open.

“Whoa, walked in at the wrong time,” Sam exclaimed, closing the door as quickly as he shut it.

Dean and I looked at each other. He shrugged, “Whoops.”

I laughed, and he pulled me back in.

(EDIT: starting taglists now! let me know if you want to be on any!)

FULL MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

#not me posting a supernatural fanfiction in the year of our Lord 2023 #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester one shot #sam winchester #castiel #supernatural #supernatural fic #spn fic #luna’s dean fics

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lifemod17 · 4 months ago

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thoughts on 'Unaired EP'

IN THIS ESSAY I WILL-

below the cut in case you don't want spoilers <3

Nobody's Soldier

THE FUCKIN FALSETTO IS DRIVING ME INSANE ITS LIKE HE LACED THIS SONG WITH CRACK

"Benzos and gasoline" line is WILD (it is so hot for no reason wtf Andrew)

the little break that happens at 1:43 with. i don't even know what that is? like a sort of distorted / reverbed guitar bend / riff? either way, LOVE THAT.

also lets give it up one time for the organ, that is SO GNARLY, YOU CANNOT DENY IT!!!

hearing the live version vs. this recorded one is different, I literally went "OMFG WHAT IS THIS PART" starting at 2:53 when he gets all whisper-y WHY IS IT SO HOT

Listen man, I am a sucker for a good pause, and that pause after the bridge has me UNWELL.

SLOWING IT DOWN for the ending will never not be iconic. you don't see that happening a lot!

the intake of breath on the outro??!! tumblr user lifemod17 is NOT FARING WELL

July

so full of hope and promise and really just about having that thing or that someone to look forward to. The definition of "postpone that funeral"

THE SYNTHS??? FORGIVE HIM FATHER FOR HE HAS SYNTH!!!

"JUST KNOWING THAT'S GETTING ME THROUGH"?!?!?!? I wanna throw up. that is a Tonee-ass line. yeah 'July' is DEFINITELY taking the crown. This is my favorite from the EP.

i WAS right! he says 'prada' because it just made so much sense with the 'wore me out' line.

the whole second half had me in SHAMBLES. the lyrics were already insane but also throw in his soft voice mixed with the FUNKY & GROOVY beat?? I fear it is so over for me (I was genuinely screaming into a pillow and needed to sit down even though I was already sat and also I didn't know what to do with my person so I was just laying there and looking up at the ceiling while fighting off tears. I was SHOOK.)

It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy and makes me want to roll downhill a field and pick flowers to give to strangers

Have I mentioned the pen game? Because it is on level 9000. His pen was on fire when he has writing this

B A S S O U T R O GOT ME ACTING TF UP

That You Are

I was not expecting the lyrics to be "that I'd be anywhere that you are". im sorry but that is devastatingly beautiful and rips my heart out brb sobbing

my wig quietly and peacefully ascended from my head.

it's a lot more raw, production wise. the vocals aren't super clean, but I actually really like it this way!!! it makes the song that much more precious, gentle, intimate

Bedouine's vocals NEVER DISAPPOINTS!! She always has a way of transporting you with her music- makes you feel like you're floating above water

I needed to sautee the yearning for this one, its so pretty but hits you right in the feels

The fact that this is speculated to be the contender for the spot of 'I, Carrion (Icarian)' I'M GONNA CRY AGAIN Andrew please do an EP breakdown cuz I need to know!

that little instrumental interlude towards the bridge is so lovely and the entire song really! I think they did a good job of splitting the vibe 50/50 <- I say this because I listen to Bedouine a lot and the vibe of her songs is definitely here. it just really shows that they both wrote this together. its not a feature, its a collab

We're all gonna cry and then afterwards we're all gonna hug cuz this song just inflicted so much emotional damage upon all of us

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #unaired ep #nobody's soldier #july #that you are #bedouine #Spotify #postpone that funeral

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cjlouwho · 8 days ago

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I can't stop thinking about Rocker showing Deacon a whole new world after being with basic vanilla, missionary only, blow jobs on birthday or anniversary Annie. It's making me unwell 😂

I needed to share.

Byeeeee

Oh yeah, it’s kinda within the fic I’m writing but I’m gonna talk about it here and now!

Deacon’s world gets blown wide open. He didn’t know so many positions existed. The first time he’s fingering Rocker open and he hits his prostate, he’s sure he did something wrong with the sound that comes out of Rocker’s mouth, but Rocker tightens around his fingers and dares him to stop. “I will fight you to the death and I will win.”

Deacon learns all about kinks and what he likes and doesn’t like and Rocker is so open to anything and everything that it makes it all fun and lighthearted.

He loves that they can kinda toss each other around too. He doesn’t need to be gentle with Rocker (although he still is sometimes) and he likes that Rocker doesn’t take it easy on him.

And the dirty talk is, well, filthy, and sometimes downright mean. But for some reason it makes Deacon come hard and fast, before he even realizes what’s happening. On one particular night they’re so angry with each other that Rocker crosses a line they hadn’t touched before… mentioning Annie. Deacon’s pounding into him when Rocker goes off. “You gonna fill me up, Deac? Get me pregnant? You’re so good at it I bet you could do it to me. When you go home and fuck your wife, you’re gonna think about me. How tight I am around you, the noises I get you to make. Annie can’t do that for you, can she? If she could, you wouldn’t be here. Bet she’s never even heard you moan.”

And it should be a turn off. Should make him leave. But instead, Deacon smacks Rocker’s ass and shuts him up by practically shoving his tongue down his throat as he comes deep inside him. Then he rubs a hand over Rocker’s stomach and whispers against his lips, “You think it’s a girl or a boy?” and Rocker comes untouched.

#donovan rocker #deacon Kay #rockon #swat #swat cbs

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morgan-the-lonely-brick · 1 year ago

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Hi, I still have so many feelings about this, I will never shut up. I also made a gifset out of it because watching the video wasn't enough, i need to memorize every pixel.

(These gifs are free to download & use, they literally took me 5 minutes, so... cheers~)

"It is your job to f-" still haunts me. Also the way light falls on his face exactly when he fumbles is like him getting exposed. Shining a light on his fakery so the others see through it? And then he retreats back into the shadow trying to hide again, but does so only partially? Amazing.

The quick look up at Fang, he's so adorable🥺 i think for a moment there he actually considers admiting something's wrong but backs out of it and right back into defense. The way he freezes at the end sends shivers down my spine. it's so personal to me, Con, staaahp, fr! Also we get the "unhand me" line, or rather [if you touch me now i will start crying and that's embarrassing so don't touch me] That's how i see it.

Now we get to the good shit. Looking up trying not to cry. Avoiding any and all eye contact. His fckn lips shaking. You can clearly see that he's broken by the fact they've even noticed THIS. That expression is like a defeated "oh fuck me". Him being off focus makes this bit even worse.

Actually I was looking at this bit a lot and it almost seems like he doesn't know what Fang is trying to do at first? Like he was defensive because he didn't realise Fang was going in for a hug? Or maybe it's a reflex for anything coming from behind. He's a fighter, after all.

He looks ahead, approximately where Archie and Jim are standing as if to see their reactions or maybe seek help?! But then you can see the moment he understands - he turns his head back towards Fang and leans into it, with a hint of disbelief on his face.

God, the loose strand of hair adds so much to that delicious skrunklyness he has going on. He's so pretty...

In this gif it's clear he's leaning into Fang a lot, even actively pressing his head against him. He could've easily turned away or pulled away, but didn't. He WANTS to be comforted. He WANTS to be held. The way he scans over Frenchie as if checking what he's about to do, I'm suspecting he like. Put a hand on him somewhere or something of the sort. I am so unwell from this-

For the last time he tries to produce words, but it comes out as more of a moan than anything, so he gives up and bites his lip. (im loosing my sanity, Con, what have you done)

Also Frenchie's pout is my H2O He literally went :c

Izzy looks over to Frenchie again as if to verify he's not there to mock him and when it turns out that no. He actually wants to comfort him. Izzy fully looses it and lets out the most gut wrenching puppy dog skrunkly whimper ever produced by a human man. It must mean so much to him... Those last few micro expressions are killing me. He looks up again as if to say "oh god they mean it. They don't think im stupid for this, they're actually taking me seriously" And he can't believe it, he's so dumbfounded that poor guy.

What if this was his first hug in ages? I wouldn't be surprised...

Im breaking my own heart with this why do i do this-

#Ofmd #ofmd spoilers #Ofmd s2 #Ofmd s2 spoilers #Izzy hands #ofmd frenchie #Ofmd fang #Ofmd izzy

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transchesters · 4 months ago

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inspired by this post. couldn’t stop thinking about it so i had to write this <3 ends abruptly but i could be persuaded into writing more 🫢

sam winchester was cursed to be an abomination before he was even born. the fates, or perhaps god himself, decided long ago that the youngest winchester brother would be lucifer's perfect vessel. sure, it was mary who made the deal with azazel — her youngest for john's life — but azazel would have wound up in little sammy's nursery, dripping his rancid blood into the baby's mouth.

somewhere down the line, sam accepted this about himself. he was an abomination, only a slight step away from the demons he hunted. when he drank from ruby, he believed it was worth it, that it was the right thing to do. he was saving lives here! but then, ruby was dead, and lilith was dead, and lucifer rose from hell. all because of *him*. he had let himself grow blind enough to be manipulated by the lowest of the low, all because she told him it would make him powerful. and if he was powerful, then he could do anything, save anyone.

how stupid he had been. he had let everyone down. dean, bobby... castiel. castiel, who should have killed him the moment they met. who forgave him each time he fell. who picked him back up, rescued him from the cage, and took on the burden of his memories. like sam was something worth saving, or protecting.

it's well past midnight when sam wanders into the main room of the bunker, rubbing at his dark-circled eyes, unaware of the angel sitting at the table who is leafing through old men of letter's records.

"sam. you look unwell."

sam blinks, though he isn't startled by castiel's presence. if anything, he is grateful for it. grateful and undeserving.

"shouldn't you be sleeping?" comes castiel's voice again, his brow furrowed as it usually is. his blue eyes are sharp and curious as sam walks his way, soon sitting down in the chair across from his.

"probably. doesn't mean i can," sam replies, peeking over to see what castiel is reading, but the angel closes the book before he gets a chance to. when sam looks up with a raised brow, the expression on castiel's face is unreadable. "what?"

"why is it that you still torture yourself, sam?" castiel questions suddenly, leaning forward as he rests his arms on the table, lacing his fingers together in front of him. when the only response he gets is a confused look from sam, he tilts his head and continues. "you have such a low opinion of yourself. even after all the good you have done, all the lives you have saved, you still think of yourself as the boy with the demon blood."

sam's face falls flat, and he stiffens in his chair. why did castiel have to be so perceptive, and so straightforward? "i dunno, man. we don't need to get into that right now," he mumbles eventually, averting his eyes from the blue ones that see right through him. he runs a hand through his hair, trying not to think about the last time his insomnia kept him up for so long.

"yes, we do. if it will ease your troubles and allow you to heal, then yes. we do."

sam thinks about that response for several seconds before he finally looks at castiel again, heaving a sigh. "why do you even care, cas? you said it yourself, the day we met. i'm the boy with the demon blood. that's what i am, above being a hunter, above being dean's brother, above everything." something about castiel's eyes urge him to spill his guts, and he suddenly can't stop talking. "i'm unclean. unholy. even after all this time, i still feel it in me. every time i kill a demon, i think about how good it would feel to drink it's blood, and then i hate myself a little more. i'm a monster, cas. i'm no better than them."

their eye contact is unwavering, and as sam falls silent, they are both still. castiel, who has become as precious to sam as dean, stares at him with a profound sadness in his eyes. sam deserves none of it.

"you could fix me," sam says suddenly, the idea hardly formed in his mind before he's latching on to it, leaning forward suddenly so he's closer to castiel. "you, you're the opposite of me. you're pure and just and perfect."

castiel blinks owlishly, his head cocked to the side in a way that makes sam want to weep. how can an angel sit before him like this and not feel anything but revulsion?

"sam, if i could heal you, i would. but there is nothing to heal. there is nothing wrong with you." castiel frowns as sam scoffs at his words, almost pouting. "there isn't. the demon blood within you is just a part of you. there is nothing to be done about it. you can fight your urges, and you can do the right thing. that's all that matters, in the end."

perhaps he means to sound reassuring, but sam just feels sick. he's shaking his head before castiel even finishes his sentence. "you're wrong. i’m wrong, on a molecular level. but you can help me!" without thinking, sam reaches out, grapsing castiel's hand in his own. he's surprised to find that castiel's skin is much cooler than that of a normal human. he's also surprised that castiel doesn't recoil from the touch. instead, their hands twine together like they have done this before. like their hands belong together.

"i want to help you," castiel says in a quiet tone, briefly looking down at their hands, feeling an unusual flutter in his chest. "what can i do for you, sam? i will do anything in my power." devotion is clear in his tone, but sam doesn't notice. he's too far gone into hating himself and trying to fix himself.

"it's angel blood. it's your blood — don't you see? you're the only one who can save me and make me right. because, despite everything, you're still here. you let me hold your hand and you heal me after hunts, even though i'm... me. but if you let me have your blood... it would cleanse me." sam isn't sure, really, where the idea came from. if he's been thinking about it for awhile, or if it all just clicked rather suddenly. but he is without a doubt that it will work. that castiel can save him.

castiel looks up from their joined hands and meets sam's eyes again. he takes in the human before him, tainted but lovely, cursed yet trying his hardest. perhaps he is right. demon blood is what ruined sam in the first place, so why shouldn't angel blood be the antidote? and even though castiel tries to rationalize it in his mind, he knows there is no point. because either way, he would say yes.

"of course, sam," he agrees quietly, an angel blade suddenly appearing in his hand.

"wait — not here. i don't want dean to..." sam trails off, because the thought of his brother walking in on this is simply too terrible to speak.

with a ruffle of invisible feathers, they are suddenly seated on sam's bed, in his simple room, devoid of personal touches that would make it truly his. castiel casts his eyes around, noting the differences between this room and dean's, who filled his with memories and mementos the moment they claimed this as their home. he returns his gaze to sam, sitting beside him so their shoulders brush. "it'll be okay, sam," he promises as he begins rolling up the sleeve of his trenchcoat, and then his white shirt, exposing his pale forearm.

sam stares at the soft flesh — unmarked unlike his own which is covered with scars — with a strange feeling in his stomach. he watches with apt interest as castiel drags the silver blade across his skin, a red line of blood following. the angel and the boy with the demon blood lock eyes again for a lingering glance, before sam takes castiel's arm in his hands and pulls it up to his lips.

#supernatural #spn #spn fic #sam winchester #castiel #sastiel #samcas #freakstiel #nico’s drabbles

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toads-treasures · 3 months ago

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I am once again thinking of Wyll Ravengard (when am I not) and I am turning over the line,

“I wanted you to know The Blade, not the shadow he left behind.”

I’m so unwell

#wyll also needs a ‘you’re good enough just as you are’ scene #wyll ravengard #bg3 #wyll ravengard my beloved I am studying you like a bug

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cabco · 4 months ago

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Hey so I am unwell

I have had a thought... If Mephone made all of the contestants, how much leeway do we think he had over their personalities?

More specifically for Taco, did he make her with the intent of her being a "villain"? Bc as I see it, either

A. Mephone made Taco as an intended 'twist villain' for his season. Meaning that she was always preset to do some kind of betrayal/reveal, making her actions towards Pickle at least somewhat out of her own control.

Devastating bc it really would make her a little doomed by the narrative. She would probably make her question if she'll ever be able to better herself or if she's doomed to be 'evil' and hated by everyone forever (like she kinda already does).

B. Mephone did not make Taco with any intent of being 'evil', he really did just want her to be a silly random character, and the change in personality and betrayal was entirely HER OWN FAULT.

That would also be terrible bc like. She could have so easily had it good and ruined it by no fault of her creation and/or Mephone.

Leaning towards this one being true bc of Mephone's line in truth or flare that was something around the lines of "You never had a way with words until the day you suddenly did"

Guys. There is no good option.

#inanimate insanity #ii #ii taco #ii pickle #I AM UNWELLLLL #if the mephone making her a twist villain ends up being correct #you will be seeing me on the news #;_;#sheep.txt #ii spoilers #ii 16 spoilers #ii 16

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celestiamour · 2 months ago

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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ always on your mind ]❜

ft. jean grey x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ you’re unable to admit your feelings toward her, but she finds it cute┊2.1k words

contains: some suggestive lines, reader is a disaster gay & a chronic liar in denial, actually everyone in this is gay, getting together, scott/logan, reader is shorter than jean (famke janssen is 6ft tall i’m so unwell)

➤ author's note: reader is just like me because i too would try to convince myself that i was jealous of someone like her but i’m in denial about how much i want someone like her. i know because that was me with my friend uhhhhhh

“she looks different today…” you sighed, almost dreamily, taking a sip of your green tea sweetened with honey.

ororo followed your gaze to the redhead, tilting her head and squinting a little, trying to figure out what the fuck you were talking about. it was way too early to be playing spot the difference, and while she knows that she shouldn’t entertain your nonsense, she’s still curious about what you’re talking about. “she looks the same as she always does?”

“no, she’s wearing her hair differently.”

she turned to look at her again, grateful that she seemed to be heavily immersed in whatever she was doing to notice the two of you having a not-so-discreet conversation with her as the topic. “how??”

“it’s more curly at the bottom than usual, and there’s a bit more hairspray too,” you explained like it was obvious. “also, she’s wearing a different shade of lipgloss, it’s more red and a little sparkly.”

she’s still stunningly beautiful as always, you don’t think it would change even if she just rolled out of bed. her red locks framed her face perfectly, eyes fluttered half-shut as she examined some papers on the table with her glasses neatly situated at the tip of her nose, kissable lips slightly parted in thought— casually sitting pretty like a painting of aphrodite’s second cousin in skinny jeans, tennis shoes, and a jacket.

“why are you… why are you staring at her lips?”

“i am not staring at her lips, i’m just a perceptive person.”

“you didn’t even notice when i changed my hair last week even though everyone was complimenting it, don’t lie to me. you have it bad for her, just admit it!”

“i’m just jealous of little miss perfect, okay?” you declared, putting your hands up in mock surrender. “miss perfect and her perfect hair, perfect face, perfect body—” your voice trailed off when you realized that there was a romantic undertone to it.

she rolled her eyes at you, knowing that you have been using the damn jealousy excuse ever since she first called you out on your fixation on jean grey. it’s not even an excuse at this point, it’s more like a way to end the conversation because it never went anywhere even though it’s been held more times than she could count.

there is nothing jealous or heterosexual about the look in your eyes whenever you see her. frankly, your best friend has no idea why you were denying your feelings so adamantly, but she doesn’t think you know why either. the doctor seemed to always be on your mind, always holding your full attention and always making you flustered when you had hers.

you remained silent as you watched her call over the wolverine, watching the way he got a little too close to her for your liking and the way she smiled at him as she whispered something, feeling your hand subconsciously ball up into a fist so tightly that your knuckles turned white. an inexplicable rage was starting to build up in your gut, one that you’ve learned to grow familiar with. it was even worse when it was with scott, when he was looking at her with so much affection it made his glasses seem like they were rose-tinted lenses.

“and you’re still trying to convince me you don’t have a crush on her?”

“no, i don’t have a crush on her, i have a crush on…” you paused for a second, trying to remember the new guy’s name, ”...logan.”

she crossed her arms over her chest and glanced at you like you were stupid, “really? logan?” her tone was sarcastic and you could hear the laugh in her voice, “have you even talked to him since he got here? other than introductions?”

“who knows, maybe he has some sort of charm that just draws me in?” it read as sarcasm, but your tone of voice made it sound like you were actually trying to convince her even though it wasn’t the least bit believable, not even a child would take your words for a fact.

“oh please, you wouldn’t crush on logan before crushing on me. you may lie as easily as you breathe, but you can’t fool me regarding this matter!”

“damn, i didn’t know you were telepathic too�� i hate that you’re right,” you groaned. you’re absolutely hopeless, pinning for a woman who already had a boyfriend and was probably straight. saying that your feelings for her were out of envy sounds about right to most, making it seem like a touchy subject no one dared to bring up, but anyone who has heard you talk about her for two minutes would understand the truth.

you were just terrified of rejection, and it’s easier to deny your growing attraction and to chalk it up as something else instead of bottling it up until it exploded.

jean grabbed her papers and tapped the bottom edges on the table a few times to straighten them out before leaving, and logan was now making his way toward you and ororo. your eyes widened and you shifted your stare to your lap in panic as he approached you, clearing his throat, “um, jean said she wanted to see you in the greenhouse.”

you inhaled sharply, “oh, okay…” waiting until he left, you gently placed your ceramic mug on the coaster before slamming your head on the table, “i’m so fucked, she’s going to call me out for being a creep who can’t stop staring at her like she’s a fucking goddess come to earth or something.”

“well, you’ll only know if you go meet her,” your friend shrugged. you made your bed and now you have to lay in it, she’s already done all she could to help you by suggesting that you should simply accept your feelings and a possible awkward confrontation would have been avoided.

after a moment of silence with the request suspended in the air, you sluggishly finished off the contents of your cup and lazily rinsed it off in the sink. “alright, wish me luck because god knows i’m going to need it…”

you left before she could make a snarky remark, making your way over to your destination with impending doom slowly weighing itself on your shoulders as you adjusted your appearance to make yourself look just a bit better. you were absolutely terrified of being called out, even if jean would be in the right to do so because it probably made her uncomfortable, and each step made you feel like you were inching closer to an execution.

(clearly, you’re being overdramatic and her setting boundaries isn’t the end of the world, but you think you would probably end it all if you learned that she had negative feelings toward you like disgust or something.)

the door to the greenhouse made you cringe as the hinges creaked, allowing you to see that it was completely empty without any students and fiery red hair making the only other soul in the room stand out amongst the greenery (not like she wouldn’t stand out to you in a room of hundreds). she looked up at you and smiled as you shut the door behind you for some privacy. “so… uh…” god, you’re absolutely fucking useless when it comes to talking to pretty women you weren’t well-acquainted with. “you wanted to see me?”

she hummed in confirmation with a smile, gesturing you to sit across from her and making you even more nervous that this was going to take a sharp direction for the worse. “don’t worry, you’re not in trouble or anything.”

her lighthearted tone and little jest of talking to you like a student instead of a co-worker honestly didn’t do much to help you relax as you took your seat, hands in your lap and anxiously fidgeting with your fingers while waiting for her to continue.

“so…” she took off her glasses and looked at you with a mischievous gleam in her eyes, “you think i have kissable lips, huh? is that a feature of mine that you’re jealous of?”

you felt your heart drop and almost choked on your spit, trying to clear your throat as subtly as possible while heat rushed to your face. you were so wrapped in admiration earlier that you didn’t even consider that she was only pretending to look over her paperwork and was actually reading your mind during the entire exchange with ororo.

oh god, what if she’s also read your mind on other occasions? you’re so screwed, you have had more… sinful thoughts about her in other instances— is that why she smiled at you in that way when you ran into her in the middle of the night in the kitchen when she was wearing that really sexy tank top? you wanted to crawl into a hole and die, this was so embarrassing.

instead of admitting it like a normal person when cornered, you impulsively lied again, “i-i have no idea what you’re talking about!” you wanted to kick yourself, are you really trying to convince a mutant with telepathy powers that she was wrong about how you felt about her when she could literally read you like a book— what the fuck are you doing, you need to fess up already?!

she chuckled, “you’re cute.” her response made you sit up straight in a panic from how unexpected it was, which only made her smile widen as she started to giggle. “tell you what,” she started, getting up from her swivel stool and making her way over to stand in front of you.

it didn’t help that you were seated, but having her so close like it reminded you of just how tall she was. her long, slender legs were accentuated in the pants she wore, and they helped her look down on you while you looked up at her in a way that could only be described as— in lack of a better phrase— a gay panic.

“if you don’t like this, then feel free to slap me.”

before you could ask what she was talking about, her hands reached out to hold both sides of your face, pulling herself toward to kiss you on the lips. you were in too much shock to really react in any way, unsure if you were dreaming or if this was reality. the entire world seemed to stop spinning and stilled just for you to experience what it was like to be kissed by jean grey. her lips were so soft and tasted of cherry, something straight out of a fantasy.

her eyes slowly opened to meet yours, parting her lips from yours and straightening her posture. it was only for a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity in heaven. you were absolute putty from her touch, which she didn’t need her powers to notice and she seemed proud of her effect on you. it’s one of the things she adores so much about you, how she could read you like an open book without telepathy when you were known as a mysterious person with more lies than anyone could keep up with. it gave her a sense of normalcy and pride, how it was just her and your best friend storm who could read you. “so, are you still ‘jealous’ of me, or are you willing to admit it’s something more?”

“i think i’m just jealous about how you were able to take my breath away with a single kiss… and of scott…” you managed to say, not able to feel proud of your witty comment like you usually would be when adrenaline was still pumping in your veins unable to escape your body that’s been frozen like a statue from the action. after a moment of silence, your face changed from one of bliss to one of mortification, “wait, how often do you read my mind??”

“oh, i’m always on your mind.” your mouth slacked open before you covered it with your mouth, feeling incredibly embarrassed because your thoughts about her have ranged from admiration of her beauty to wondering about what it was like to date her to— “by the way, do you wanna have a sleepover in my room tonight? we’ll get to know each other better, and i’m sure it could satisfy your other curiosities about me,” she whispered lowly into your ear, making shivers shoot down your spine.

you were so flustered that you felt the need to cover your entire face with your hands, an adorable sight to jean as you nodded. “t-that sounds perfect… but… what about scott?”

“oh, don’t worry about him, we split more than a week ago on good terms once we realized we both had our ‘preferences.’ besides, he’s been secretly spending a lot of time with logan lately despite how they behave around others— i think we’re going to hear about another new couple soon,” she winked, holding onto you arm-in-arm and ready to show you off to the inhabitants of the mansion.

#📜. her works #jean grey #jean grey x reader #phoenix #phoenix x reader #x men #x men x reader #marvel #marvel x reader

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st-el-la-luna · 11 months ago

Text

It's Not Enough: Captain John Price x Reader

(sorry for vanishing I am mentally unwell)

An injury leaves the Task Force's Captain unable to do all that he usually does. You're more than happy to help.

NSFW 18+

➔ gn!reader ("you"/"your" pronouns, described as "pretty" once), Price is readers boss, pillow fucking, desperate almost subby Price

unedited, written on mobile in Spanish class

part two

It wasn't fair to say that the mission went south. It's not like the Task Force failed it or anything. You guys secured the intel you needed and cleared the base no problem.

Except there was a problem. Your intel on the enemy operation had been spotty and it turns out the enemy was more prepared than you all had been lead to thought.

Sitting silently in the back of the truck you all quietly lick your wounds. Soap had been stabbed, "'tis just a scratch," he had announced before taking out three men with an improved explosive. (Ghost hit him for that one) (the Shakespeare reference. Not the bomb). Gaz and Ghost both were shot, the former in the knee and the latter, grazed on the neck by a bullet that very well could have killed him. You got a little too close to a grenade and now your ears are ringing and you're covered cuts and scrapes from the shrapnel, bits of metal still embedded in your skin.

Price got it the worst though. One of the enemy soldiers managed to sneak up on him. This hulking, unit of a man who made Ghost, Ghost, look like a gangly teen.

You always wondered how Ghost, being as big as he is, could move so quietly so quickly. This enemy soldier made you think that maybe you were just loud and slow.

Not a single person realized that the soldier was there until it was too late. He tackled Price, knocking the gun from his hands then threw him, literally threw him, like a doll, over the catwalk ledge.

Price was lucky though, in a sense, because he crashed to the ground close enough to you and Gaz that you could provide him cover.

He was unlucky, or maybe just stupid, because he tried to catch his fall. His fall from three stories up.

With his hands.

Never have you heard bones snap so loud.

You glance across the truck at him. He's breathing slowly and deliberately, self-soothing. His hands resting on his thighs, fingers twitching occasionally, but otherwise motionless.

"Hey, look on the bright side, Captain," you say with a crooked grin, blinking away the blood dripping from a gash above your eye. "At least you won't have to do any paperwork for a while."

"Won't be able to jack off either," Soap adds with a crow of laughter. "Poor lil John's gonnae be black and blue... Won't even be able to feel the pain in yer hands over the straining of your–"

"That'll do!" Ghost snaps, ever the one to keep Soap in line.

It's quiet for the rest of the way back to base. It's quiet as you all head to medical for treatment. You're all drained, happy with a job well done, but exhausted from, well, everything.

Tired and sore, you decide to forgo dinner in order to catch some extra sleep. You're walking through the halls when you pass by Price's office.

The door is cracked open, which is unusual, and a rhythmic sound tumbles out into the hallway. A blend between panting and grunting.

He groans out a frustrated, "Fucking... Ah... Fucking hell!"

"Captain?" You ask hesitantly, knocking on the door. You hear shuffling inside, the rustling of cloth, soft jingle of metal. "I, uh... Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," he grits out, breathless and frustrated. "I'm just..." More rustling. "Fuck!"

"Can I come in?" You ask, already opening the door.

He doesn't say no. In fact, he doesn't say anything. Until you've got the door open and are left staring at the scene before you.

"I didn't want anyone seeing me like this..." He grumbles.

He's standing behind his desk, both hands and forearms in casts. He's struggling with a zip up hoodie, tangled in the fabric as he tries to put it on.

You fight back the urge to laugh and succeed. You fight back the urge to smile and fail. "Want some help with that, Captain?"

"Please."

This continues for the duration of his injury, him coming to you for help with tasks he can't do himself. For as long as he's in those casts, you're at his beck and call.

It's not uncommon for you to be called away from some mundane task to help the Captain with something equally mundane. But hey, at least you get to spend time with your Captain.

Your handsome, rugged, often flushed as of late, Captain.

You're captain whose casts you've wrapped before he can shower. Whose shirts you've helped put on. Whose hair you've brushed. Beard you've combed. Whose-

You keep having to tell yourself that this doesn't mean anything. The only reason he comes to you and no one else is because, well, he doesn't want anyone else seeing him like this.

So what if he blushes when you help secure his belt around his hips? Or when your fingers graze his neck as you button his collar. So what if once or twice while youve helped him dress your hand has brushed his cock (and oh, it's big), and it's jumped to attention. It's a natural reaction, really. Price never even mentions it. He's probably embarrassed. Ashamed. Nothing more to it.

But what if...?

No. You tell yourself sternly. Bad. That's your boss.

But...

He has been calling on you more. Has been standing closer. Leaning in when you speak. Burying his nose into your hair before you leave his room and inhaling through his nose, then shutting the door on you, leaving you a little dazed and more than a little confused in the hall.

Still. It doesn't mean anything. You've just never spent this much time with him. Maybe this is normal.

You're in the armory with Soap and Gaz when your phone goes off in your pocket. Price is calling.

"Captain?" You ask, holding the phone between your shoulder and ear as you continue to clean your rifle. "Everything okay?"

"I know I told you I wouldn't need anything until later, but I... I need your help," he says, his voice gruff and rumbling. "Now."

Soap mimes a blow job and Gaz snickers, shouldering him playfully.

"Could have called anyone, Captain," Soap calls out loud enough for Price to hear through the phone. "What is it you need help with that only our pretty little Corporal can do? Hmm?"

"Shut up, Soap," Price grumbles.

"Captain says to shut up, Johnny," you relay to Soap. He laughs.

"I need your help," Price repeats, his breath stuttering slightly.

"Alright," you say, setting the rifle down. "What with?"

"I'm..." his words are cut off by a groan and the sound of shuffling, followed by something clattering to the floor. "Fuck... I'm trying to..." He pauses, breathing heavy. "Tryna trim my beard and I.. Just get over here quick."

"Aye, sir. I'll be in your office soon."

"Not my office. My quarters."

You pause, holding the phone properly now. "I... Your quarters, Captain?"

Soap snickers, and thrusts his hips into the air a couple times. You flip him off.

"Yes," he says. "It's where I keep my products."

"Right, of course," you shake your head. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Good," he says, letting out a breathy sound through his nose. "I can't deal with this any longer..."

"Your beard has gotten scruffy," you muse.

"I... Just... Hurry." He hangs up.

"Getting out of work early again, huh?" Gaz asks with a grin. "Or should I say getting off work early?"

"Not you too," you whine, flipping the pair of them off as you leave the room.

You don't catch what Soap says, his words muffled by his accent and the closing door. Judging by the raucous laughter that breaks out when he's done, you figure that might be for the best.

You get to Price's room and knock, waiting a beat before turning the knob. "Hey, Captain, just a heads up, I've never actually trimmed a beard before but I–"

You stare at the scene before you with wide eyes, blood rushes to your cheeks as your jaw drops.

"Close the door," Price grunts, staring up at you from his place on the bed. On his knees, forearms braced against the mattress, his face red, jaw slack as he lets out rhythmic pants and groans.

You don't dwell on it. Instead, your attention is drawn to the clumsy, desperate movement of his hips as he ruts desperately against his pillow. His pillow which is covered in... Is that one of your workout shirts?

"I... Captain?!" You squeak in surprise, taking a slight step back.

"Soap was right," he grumbles, humping and grinding and moaning into the pillow. Into your shirt. Your shirt. This is happening. This is real. Price inhales deeply through his nose, his tongue lolling out. "Haven't... Haven't been able to... It's... I... It hurts, i... I thought this would... it worked before but i... It's not... not enough, I.. Help... Please."

Slowly, hesitantly, you shut and lock the door behind you. "Oh, so you've done this before?" You quirk a brow as you approach his bed. "Fucked into your pillow like a desperate whore thinking it was me?"

He whines, actually whines, and his hips falter for a second before speeding up. With each forward stroke of his hips you can catch a glimpse of his cock. Thick and red and painfully hard, dripping so much precum it looks like he's already cum before you got here. "Don't... Don't tease me, Corporal... Don't forget who's in charge here."

"Seems to me, Captain, that I'm the one in charge here," you hum, slowly kneeling on the bed. He looks up at you through his sweaty fringe, his breaths hot and wet when they fan against your skin. "I mean, you're the one who needs help, after all... You're the one whose job could be on the line... I doubt the higher ups would be thrilled to find you like this, all backed up and desperate for one of your soldiers?"

His eyelids flutter, he bites his lips muffling a growl that crescendos into a moan when you cradle his face. "Stop, I... I just... It hurts..."

"I'm sure it does," you hum sympathetically, running a hand through his hair. "Been too long, hasn't it?"

He keens and leans into your touch, drool dribbles from his lips. "I... Weeks, may, ah, maybe a month... Or longer... I-I need it... Please."

"Well, that just won't do," you tut, shaking your head in mock sympathy. You tighten your grip on his hair and he bows, arching his back like it's his job. "Just look at you, Captain..."

He whines and you shush him gently, hand sliding from his hair to cup his jaw and chin, forcing him to look up at you. "Don't worry, Captain... I plan to do a lot more than just stare..."

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Masterlist

#call of duty #cod mwii #cod #captain price #john price #captain john price #captain price x reader #price x reader #cod x reader #x reader

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