#Dean is the hero of my story

[shadystranger]

"The fandom unnecessarily villainizes sam and dean for choosing each other over strangers when it's literally how humans work" great critic but I actually think the fandom (those interested in the brothers' relationship) are reacting to it how they're meant to: in a negative light.

To trace things back, yes, it's a given, kind of an innate human nature to respond in situations by prioritizing the people you know over ones you don't. That is true. On an individual basis, each person would do this, I would do this, and anyone'd be crazy to villainize this act on my and your part. But sam and dean do it, and it's painted in this hyperbolic moral degeneration light both by the narrative (we could argue) and by the fandom. Because see, sam and dean are a little different than you and me.

They're positioned in their world as tragic heroes who, given the nature of their job, are expectedly deprived of things the normal person could enjoy. They don't get to lead normal lives, they don't die by natural causes, and they must navigate through life bearing more than they must know with soul-crippling responsibilities. "We're the people who save the world," sam and dean don't spend much time before they assume the token role of saviors in their world. Along with that role comes even more imposed limitations.

They are more viscerally equipped and knowledgeable. They have access to things randoms could never dream of having (like death and god). The more you know, the worse you sleep and comes with the mere knowing is the obligation to do something about it. Someone ignorant to the whole ordeal simply doesn't have to answer to it.

Basically, they're soldiers. Imagine samdean reporting for duty, they preserve peace of the public and their blind following to decision moral rightness is taken for granted. It comes with the job. You don't get to make ill-advised progress in your self-interest as a person (sth random ppl can enjoy) when several lives are at stake.

At some point, sam and dean themselves are metaphoricaly acting Gods: people's survival or death depends on them. Sometimes, it's a city's worth of population. Other times, it's the entire world. Their right to free-decision making stops depending only on its virtuous intent and starts being consequential. They're elevated to adhere to higher standards and criteria than normal people are held to.

The rightness of their actions will not be determined among a set of feasible options but instead assessed by whether they chose the option with the best consequences. Or not. The main decision-making factor for "heroes" like them should be putting the general welfare at its fore interest. Not one individual's. Especially not if it's one individual's.

When dean and/or sam sacrifices someone stranger to save his brother, it's a subjective good call I can relate and see myself in it, but given their position within the universe it's irresponsible and far objectively wrong; especially if at the cost of saving his brother, several others suffered.

There are criteria for judging the actions of the pivotal role they uphold. From a subjective moralness standpoint, sam and dean are only humans, and they can be cut some slack or even not at all villainized for doing what their instinct demands. On the other hand, moral objectiveness influenced by the world-setting's structure deems the goodness or badness of how they behave based on the particular consequences of their given actions and whether said actions affected people in good or bad ways. If sam and dean did something that brought peace to the world on the whole and reduced suffering, it's good and logical, whereas if said action caused suffering and threatened peace, it's bad.

dean grudgingly accepting sam’s plan to overtake lucifer even though it meant losing his brother is the objectively morally good choice to make. He had to sacrifice his precious family, but he ultimately was rational and responsible enough to know his brother's life is not a fair trade-off to millions. both sam and dean here act in accordance with their positions within the story/world: they're heroes. But by S8 dean doesn't let sam make a similar sacrifice. He prioritizes sam's life over the many who'll be possessed and will either kill others or be killed themselves. sam releases a world-ending evil to save his brother, and later on, both take turns facilitating the guy who practically promises them an apocalypse to once again save each other.

"The good of any one person is no more important from the point of view of the universe than the good of any other." sam or dean's lives aren't more important than someone else's, this was a point so base sam felt the need to make because it needed to be addressed, their lack of changing anything about it is another matter. Thing is they're the world's designated saviors be it by choice or not, the narrative views them as the fact, they're expected to value the well-being of all individuals equally, regardless of their personal closeness. Imagine a firefighter postponing saving you because someone he knows is more important even when the situation for them is not as grave as you. It'd be unethical and worthy of condemnation because in this line of work, and in general when your job is saving people and work towards the greater good, you do it indiscriminately, you don't get to privilege the well-being of yourself or your family over the well-being of distant others.

sam and dean hold a rightful consequentialist commitment to their actions being as good as possible: the basis on which one outcome is better than another is only if it contains a greater sum total of people's betterment. No impartiality.

Yes, it's his brother, his only family, but it's still morally wrong to prioritize him (in their case). Let's use a patriotism allegory. Imagine a general of a losing army. He catches wind of the enemy's secret bases or is exposed to confidentials enough to turn the tide to his side. However, he finds out his family at home is being held hostage. The moment he reveals what he knows, they get killed. A man has to save his family it's the most basic human instinct, yes, but you'd think it's irredeemably wrong for him to prioritize his family in this case. You'd think he doesn't even have the right to choose when it's a choice between two insignificant people and the entire country being infiltrated and invaded, with the deaths of million soldiers and citizens. It's not even a choosing matter. sam and dean are the general in this scenario, and instead of the country being at stake, it's sometimes the entire population they're throwing to the fire for each other. Anyone'd think it's messed up. You're supposed to.

There is a good reason to save your family (brother) over a stranger (or two, or hundred or million); but labeling both actions as right would risk ignoring the important moral difference between the two. And we need to draw an account of what a hero is obliged to do in order to meet minimal moral standards. sam and dean's constant moral failure to meet such standard despite their role in their universe paints them as flawed, sometimes as the story's designated antichrist.

Their ceaseless prioritizing of themselves marks their moral debauchery and decline as heroes. they get away with not fulfilling their obligations that are thrust upon them by design, they're using a cheat code acting not how they're supposed to and that's the characters/narrarive's grip with them. I don't blame corbin for what he did, while It’s extremely wrong that he tried killing sam, it was a call for survival. Your savior normally doesn’t come with conditions. He was faced with an oddity from the typical rescue mission. And he did what he had to ensure the more number of people survives. We sympathize with sam and dean, so we criminalize corbin immediately and side with dean. We're swept by emotions and our judgment is clouded you could say but from a utility standpoint, dean's decision to stay with a dying sam would've lead to four people's death, or three and one heavily wounded meanwhile corbin's leads to three people's survival and the loss of one. With corbin, more lives are saved, with one unfortunate but necessary sacrifice. Morally and objectively, corbin was more right in choking sam than dean was in staying.

[soulmates-for-real-tranquility]

"actual heroism, like actual love, is a messy, painful, vulnerable business"

Happy Birthday my favourite hero! 🥲💗

[finalgirlsamwinchester]

Umberto Eco, 'Ur-Fascism'

[tyrion]

They both reached for the gun. or did they?

- Supernatural, seasons 1 - 5

Source (me): x

[zepskies]

Series Masterlist - Lost on You

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who's the predator, and who is prey.

Song Inspo: “Lost on You” by the Cubaneros (originally by LP)

AN: Oh, here we go! Get ready for another Boys AU. And in the immortal words of Cher, we're actually turning back time, to the '80s, no less.

Series Tags/Warnings: **18+ only! It's the world of The Boys, so angsty and messy, with morally gray and downright charcoal characters, including Soldier Boy, of course (and even the reader herself). **Smut, language, misogyny, violence, drug use, and other chapter-specific tags.

Chapters:

Part 1: Siren Song

Part 2: Foolish Game

Part 3: A Deal is a Deal

Part 4: Better Shape Up

Part 5: Eminence Front

Part 6: Drowned and Spellbound

Part 7: Welcome to the Jungle

Part 8: For Whom the Bell Tolls

Part 9: Free to Be You and Me

Part 10: I Need a Hero

Part 11: Heroes and Monsters

Part 12: A Fire in the Blood

Epilogue: As Good as It Gets

Series complete!

🎙️ Listen while you read:

The Lost on You Playlist: YouTube || Spotify

Lost on You Playlist Posters

"Interrupt the flow, they better not dare..."

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[take-it-on-the-run]

And I Love Her

Sam Winchester x Reader

The reader and Dean are being tortured by Gordon Walker because of her relationship with Sam, and all they can do is hope he'll get there in time.

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags: Torture, graphic depictions of being cut into, descriptions of gore and severe bodily harm, Sam Winchester is out of character depending on who you ask

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Dean Winchester, Gordon Walker

@ghostlyaccurate requested: "Hii! Can I request a Dean and/or Sam Winchester (sepperate) x fem! Reader set in season two, with an established relationship, where it's like when Gordon kidnaps Dean, but instead of just Dean he also kidnaps reader. (I can imagine if it's a Dean x reader Gordon uses reader to get Dean to not try anything, and if it's a Sam x reader Sam just going even more ballistic than he originally does in the show). Thank you!!"

Read it on AO3!

A/N: Beatles title. My first Sam fic! Honestly, it was really hard writing this one for some reason, and after five revisions I'm still not completely in love with it. Regardless, I hope you enjoy, and heed the warnings! Do not read if this will make you uncomfortable!

Sam Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

Gordon stared blankly at the wall in front of him while you tugged at the ropes on your wrists. A bandana was tied tightly around your mouth that tasted like dirt and your own blood. Dean was tied up to the left of you in a similar state, and both of you were staring down Gordon like it would kill him.

Traps lined every entrance from the doors to every small crack in the wall. Sam was powerful, but you doubted he could break through solid brick. Grenades, tripwire, even a shotgun trap that looked like something straight out of a movie; Gordon wanted Sam dead at all costs.

You knew your boyfriend would come to you and Dean’s rescue, but damn was this cutting it close. Gordon had already tried his best with Dean, but when it was your turn, he took his sweet-ass time.

He punched you, kicked you, even spit on you. Now, you tried your best to not scream as he dragged a knife against the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder.

You failed.

Biting down on the bandana, a muffled scream ripped through your lungs. You tried focusing on Dean, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes which were spilling over with more tears than you thought were in your body.

You could feel your blood dripping down your back and your chest, slithering its way to the floor as Gordon wiped his blade with the rag in his back pocket. He wrenched your head to the side, forcing the fresh wound close and for more tears to streak down your face.

He repeated his process on you a few times.

Your arms.

Your hands.

Your legs.

Every time somehow hurt more than the last, the hunter pulling open your skin and snapping it back together like a rubber band. Your vision was spotty, but you held steadfast to the thought that your boyfriend would be here any minute to save the day like he always did.

Gordon took a step back, wiping sweat and blood from his face and arms. He looked down at you with a glare that you’ve held plenty of times for the less-than-human creatures in the world. You guessed that, in his eyes, you, Sam, and Dean, were held in a similar regard.

Snaps.

Taunts.

Cracks.

Screams.

All because you fell in love with someone born under a bad sign.

You didn’t regret meeting Sam. Kissing him, falling for him, even the idea of just having him in your life was enough for your mind to justify the situation you were in. It wasn’t his fault you were having your life drained out of you minute by minute, and you hoped he would be smart enough to know that.

“Sam’s going to be here any minute, you know. Gotta convince himself he’s the hero of this story, and I’m the big,” Gordon turned to you, knife in hand, “bad, evil dragon. But I’m not the one with demon blood, am I, Y/N?” He placed the edge of the blade against the bottom of your chin. You could feel the cold steel heavy against your skin, and any sudden move would surely spill even more of your blood.

Dean glared at Gordon, his face shades of purple and blue, which mirrored the pain you felt along your entire body. Gordon dug the knife into the bottom of your chin, piercing your skin ever so slightly, but not enough to fatally wound you. Your mind was trying hard to hold onto the cracks of reality that remained in your vision; the smell of the dingy house you were in, the feeling of the carpet making contact with your boots, anything that wouldn’t send your consciousness reeling over was enough of an anchor for you to hang onto.

Gordon walked away from the two of you, returning to his position of peering out one of the boarded-up windows in wait for Sam. You glanced at Dean, which granted you a glance back from him. His eyes were dry, but they held enough behind them to let you know what he was thinking. Sam was going to burst into this booby-trapped hellhole, and Dean could do nothing but blame himself.

It’s all your fault, really, a thought that smashed through what you knew was the truth said.

This isn’t any of our faults, you told it back, wanting to tell Dean the same. Sam wasn’t to blame for the two of you being taken, and neither of you was at fault for being used as bait; it all landed in the hands of the rogue hunter who deemed himself holier-than-thou.

Though you couldn’t see yourself, you knew you were starting to resemble a bloody pulp more than a human being. Dean could barely look your way for longer than a second, and deep cuts that surged whether you moved or not continued to scrape away at your consciousness.

Gordon disappeared, and as you tried to turn your head to follow him, you felt a burning pain across your chest. Highlighted by a spurt of blood splattering over your thighs, you wanted to vomit. The top of your head started to feel like it was being lifted off from the rest of your skull, and the black spots in your vision connected at the edges of your eyes.

You grunted, head going slack and opening wounds on the back of your neck. Either spit, blood, or bile dripped out of your mouth, but at that moment you didn’t care- the black at the corners of your eyes bled together, and all you could do was limply hope Sam would find you.

You blinked, slowly, noticing light creeping in from the boarded-up windows. The second thing you noticed was the searing pain in your body, coupled with grunting and what you could guess was a well-landed punch.

“Y/N!” Someone called out to you, but you could barely lift your head to meet their voice. The bandana in your mouth was pulled away and hands cupped your face, warming your skin that was ice cold after losing so much blood.

The hands left your face and moved to the ropes at your wrists, cutting them off quickly and placing your arms in your lap. You forced your eyes up high enough to see it was your hero, Sam, standing before you with tears starting to fill his eyes. If your face would’ve let your smile, you would’ve, but every movement flashed the memory of Gordon cutting into you.

Gordon.

“Where’s-” You managed to sputter out through a sore jaw and a severely dry mouth.

“Dead,” Sam answered coldly. For the first time, you noticed his knuckles were a hue of bright purple, complimented with blood splattering up his arm. Sam moved your arms around his neck and picked you up as gently as he could.

“Dean’s already in the car patching himself up. I’m going to try and lay you down in the back seat so we can get to the closest hospital. I left Gordon in the room by the first door, so keep your head to my chest if you don��t want to see him, okay?” He asked softly. The tears that were in his eyes had faded slightly, but you could see the emotions he’d no doubt try to hide later on. Regret, blame, guilt - the more he looked at you, the more you could sense that your battered state was tearing away at his consciousness. You wanted to reach out, hold his face, and tell him you’d be okay, you’d survived worse, that it wasn’t his fault, but your thoughts were halted by Sam stepping past Gordon’s body.

If you could call it a body, that is.

His nose was sunken into his face enough that his eyes were slightly popping out of their sockets. His mouth had more gums than teeth, which were scattered around the room. He was lying against a dresser, and his limbs were spread out in the wrong directions. You thought you saw a bone, but before you could look closer, Sam turned and shut the door behind you.

Sam laid you across the back seats of the Impala, trying his best to be gentle with the abhorrent number of cuts across your body. You couldn’t guess how the hospital wasn’t going to ask questions, but you hoped the brothers would figure that out. Your head laid in Sam’s lap, and he looked out the window as Dean buried Gordon.

“Sam,” you slowly moved one of your arms to his face, bringing his attention to you, “thank you. You saved us both. You had to do what you had to do.”

Sam smiled but still didn’t say a word as he dipped down and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You wanted to be able to tell him everything your racing mind was coming up with but were beaten by the overwhelming need to not move. Dean climbed into the front seat, beating the gas pedal to the floor and hitting the highway as Sam ran his fingers comfortingly through your hair.

[alexsoenomel]

Through The Amplifier

Summary: Seeing Metallica with Dean for his birthday 🎶

Based on: THIS

Pairing:  Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI , implied smut, actual smut (but cute fluffy smut), mentions of death, Dean and Reader being nerds

Word count: 8k (I like writing backstories sue me)

Song mentioned (The actual setlist btw): Ride the Lightning,  For Whom The Bell Tolls, Lux Æterna, Until It Sleeps, Whiplash, Too Far Gone? Welcome Home (Sanitarium), No Leaf Clover, The Call of Ktulu, Moth into Flame,  Wherever I May Roam, Inamorata, Blackened, One and Enter Sandman ( Also Wrong Side of Heaven and Jekyll and Hyde by Five Finger Death Punch)

Note: This year I saw one of my favorite bands and finally fulfilled my lifelong dream. I went by myself and had an absolute blast so this idea just came to me.

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)

“Are you sure you don't want to come with us, Sam?” I said as I pressed the buy tickets button. The website loaded for a couple of seconds before my phone went off. 

“Yeah, I'm sure. I don't listen to Metallica,” Sam told me as I checked my email to see two tickets for Metallica in Inglewood, California in six months.

“How can you NOT listen to Metallica?”

“Not my cup of tea, I guess.” 

“You, Charlie?”

“I don’t like old men in leather,” she simply said, making me chuckle.

To say that I was excited would be an understatement. I was overjoyed, ecstatic, and adrenaline-filled, already mentally preparing for the concert. It was indeed destiny. Metallica was performing two days after Dean's birthday in Inglewood, and since we both shared one dream: seeing them live, I saw it as a sign. Videos from their M72 world tour have bombarded my social media ever since it started, and I decided it was now or never. 

“How much are the tickets?” Sam asked.

I bit my lip and mumbled: “14k.”

“For two tickets?!” Charlie’s eyes widened in disbelief. 

“Each,” I simply said. 

" (Y/N)?! " Sam's gaze was on me, and I could feel it burning. I looked at him and smiled awkwardly, and he gave me a silent look of judgment. 

“I can explain!” 

“I'm listening!” He said, voice as sharp as a knife. 

“You know that rich vampire guy I was sleeping with before we met?” 

“The son of the rich vampire?” 

“Yeah, that one. After we killed them I found his laptop where he kept all of his secrets plus his bank account and asked Charlie to transfer everything to me.” 

“How much?”

“Everything,” Charle said proudly. 

“Untraceable and undetectable thanks to her, so technically it’s not our money,” I added.  

“But wasn't that two years ago?” 

“Yeah, he had a lot of money,” Charlie told Sam as he stared at me connecting the dots.

“That explains why the fridge is always full now.” 

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Charlie said.

I chuckled. 

Sleeping with a vampire was probably the stupidest thing I have ever done. I didn’t know he was a vampire until I woke up one morning in his bed drowsy with two small holes on my neck. By then, I had been a hunter for ten years and The Winchesters were not in the picture yet. I’ve only heard stories about them; some hunters told me that they were monsters in human form, savage, causing chaos wherever they went; and others had kinder words in mind, like heroes, good, impossible to not like. After I realized what he was I was shocked, but not surprised. I had been collecting red flags like baseball cards all of my life, but I’ve never slept with an actual monster. I’ve been with narcissists, egomaniacs, momma’s boys, but never with a vampire. That day I made a mental note: “Never trust guys on dating apps. Sleazy pubs are better for finding sex.”

The day I planned to kill him and his old man was the day that I met the brothers and Charlie. I caught them trying to sneak into the property from the back, since the cameras there weren’t working. I saw them because I was trying to do the same so the servants wouldn’t see me. I could smell hunter’s blood from a mile away and they could too. Sam told me bodies were piling up in LA and I had no idea because they would cover their tracks well and I was too busy having sex with one of the perpetrators. Dean on the other hand was rolling his eyes because he couldn’t believe how reckless and stupid I was. We didn’t start on a good foot whatsoever. He thought I was annoying and I thought he was an obnoxious jerk. That was before we killed the vampire family. 

After we finished the job with minor injuries we went to celebrate –drink. It was Charlie’s idea and I still thank her for that. A few beers later I realized the reason why Dean and I didn’t see eye to eye. It was because we were two sides of the same coin. He was a stubborn nerd with alcoholic tendencies and daddy issues and so was I. And the best part was we both liked the same type of music. Sam and Charlie saw right through us and left after two hours and we stayed and talked for hours. A few more beers and a whole lot of bickering and flirting later, we were fucking in his car like it was our last day on this Earth. I collected one more red flag that night and had too many orgasms. Drunk on sex we both went to his motel room where we had even more sex and barely got any sleep. 

The next morning Sam and Charlie were grinning at us while we were trying to wake ourselves up with caffeine. 

“I see you guys had a lot of fun,” Sam said, noticing our dark cycles. Charlie giggled. 

“Yeah, too much fun,” Dean said, trying to keep his eyes open. 

When it was time to say goodbye and exchange numbers, Charlie had yet another brilliant idea. 

“You should come with us,” she said, leaving the brothers speechless, Dean especially. 

“A hunter alone in a world is a terrible thing,” she told them. 

“Did you just quote Maester Aemon?” I asked her. It was nice meeting a fellow Game of Thrones fan.

“You just became even more awesome!” She said and high-fived me. “She is coming with us, guys!” 

I was indeed alone. I started hunting when my parents got killed by a werewolf when I was 19. I had no extended family just one friend and she had no idea what I was doing in my free time.  

Sam and Dean just stared at each other but naturally agreed since Charlie was running the house and therefore I was moving to Lebanon, Kansas. 

For the first time, I had my room and a place I could call home. The bunker was gray and dark and grew on me rather quickly, but things between Dean and I were strange at first. We both thought we were going to fuck each other’s brains out and never see each other again, but the universe (in this case Charlie) had other plans. He was actively avoiding me until I told him to suck it up and talk to me. We didn’t speak, instead, we were memorizing each other’s scars and moles in different positions…over and over again. We even woke up Sam a couple of times while Charlie was clueless since she slept with headphones.

Slowly, we were falling for each other and each kiss became more fatal than the last and since we now lived together, we were spending every waking moment in each other's presence. It wasn’t until one evening we were drinking and a young handsome guy decided to shoot his shot with me and Dean in a drunken jealous rage told him to piss off when he saw his hand on my hip. When the guy refused to leave me alone Dean punched him in the face and we got kicked out of the bar. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! I was about to tell him to fuck off!” I screamed at him and he just stared at me in complete silence. 

“DEAN?”

He came closer and cupped my cheeks with his hands kissing me gently. This time the kiss was different; it wasn’t filled with lust; it was more gentle and vulnerable. His lips were as soft as ever and for the first time I was so painfully aware of them, I wanted him to devour me whole. 

“Why are you such a dick sometimes?” I asked, his face inches away from mine.

“I don’t like when people touch what’s mine,” he said, putting a strand of hair behind my ear. I suddenly became aware of my heartbeat. 

“Since when do I belong to you?” I asked him, trying to keep a cool head even though my body was on fire. We never made it official, but we both knew it was inevitable. 

“Since I belong to you, dickhead,” he said, and from that day on I was his and he was mine. 

***

 I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t in love with Dean. We never said the words, maybe because we were too afraid to verbalize our feelings like grownups, but I knew he loved me just as much as I loved him. His eyes would always sparkle whenever we shared eye contact – even when we fought. He fought a lot, but mostly on hunts, because I would never listen to him and he knew better. In the end, we would get the job done and have angry sex to blow some steam. I’d never thought I’d end up dating a male equivalent of me. I could finally say I was happy with my life, even though objectively speaking it was awful 99% of the time. I was thankful for my chosen family and the fact that I got to experience love for the first time. 

***

I had a hard time keeping the secret, but six months later it was time to celebrate his day. Sam, Charlie, and I decided to make everything Metallica-themed. His cake was a classic chocolate cake but the candles were two small guitars one white and one black (one had the number 3 on it and the other one had 6), The frosting was black and had a picture of the band from the 80s when Cliff was still alive. Dean loved Cliff’s bass, so we knew he was going to love the cake. 

“Happy birthday, Dean!” We all said in unison as I was putting the cake on the table in front of him. Dean’s eyes widened, sparkling with delight, as he stared at the cake. His mouth dropped open in a gasp, revealing a grin that spread from ear to ear. His cheeks flushed with a rosy shade, and he could hardly contain the bubbling excitement as his eyebrows lifted in disbelief. It was a moment of pure wonder etched across his face. He blew his candles after we sang Happy Birthday to him and now it was time to open the presents. 

“This is from me,” Sam said and gave him a bag. 

 Dean pulled a black shirt from it. 

It was a beautiful Metallica shirt, a brand new one from their 72 Seasons merch collection with their yellow album cover and Metallica written on the top. 

“Holy crap a Metallica shirt!” Dean said looking at the beautiful design. Sam smiled at him. 

“Thank you, Sam! It’s perfect!” He then added. 

“You’re welcome, Dean,” Sam said and hugged his brother.

“Now it’s my turn!” Charlie exclaimed and gave him her present. 

Dean pulled out a CD and a cassette tape from a small box– their 72 Seasons CD and a limited cassette tape of the same album. 

“Oh my God! Charlie!” Dean was bursting with excitement and my heart was melting. I don’t think I remember the last time I saw him this happy. His inner child was healing mine – he deserved the world.

“One is for your car and the other is for your laptop!” 

Dean immediately jumped from the chair and hugged Charlie as tight as possible. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

“You’re welcome, birthday boy.”

Now it was my turn. While he was licking the frosting with his fingers I sent him his ticket. 

Dean was staring at me as I was smiling back at him. 

“Check your phone, handsome,” I told him, trying to contain my excitement. 

Dean's brow furrowed just a touch, creating a faint line across his forehead as he checked his phone to see that he got an email from me. 

“What is this?” He mumbled under his breath and opened it. 

Dean’s face lit up with pure joy as realization washed over him. His eyes widened. His mouth dropped open in a wide grin, showcasing his astonishment, while a breathless laugh escaped him. He looked at me for a second before staring back at his phone.

“ARE YOU FREAKIN’ SERIOUS?” He then asked in disbelief. 

“Yeah, and guess what? We will be right in front of the stage,” I said and showed him my ticket on my phone. 

His cheeks flushed with color, and his eyebrows shot up, giving him a look of sheer exhilaration. He could hardly contain himself, there was an almost childlike glee as he wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me, completely swept away by the moment. I squealed as he spinned me around like I was a ballerina. It was a mix of shock and joy, a perfect reflection of his excitement to see his favorite band live. When he kissed me my feet hit the ground. 

I knew he would remember his 36th birthday for the rest of his life.

***

We packed our bags the next day and went to the airport. Our flight was at 6 pm, so we arrived around 3 pm after lunch. Sam and Charlie came with us because Dean didn’t want to leave Baby at the airport parking lot. We said our goodbyes and went to check in. 

“Don’t let him do anything stupid,” Sam told me. 

“Don’t worry I won’t! We will be stupid together,” I grinned and Sam looked concerned. 

*** 

The flight was quick and smooth; we didn't even feel it. Since it wasn't my money (well not really) I decided to splurge and booked us two nights in the four-star hotel next to the YouTube Theater where the concert was scheduled. They had a pool, spa, and breakfast buffet, so naturally, I figured Dean was going to appreciate it. 

“I don't have swim trunks, (Y/N),” Dean told me as we were entering our room. 

“Yeah I know, that's why I bought you a pair a couple of weeks ago,” I said.

The room was an epitome of elegance, bathed in warm light from sheer curtains. A plush king-sized bed, adorned with crisp white linens and a couple of soft pillows was calling our names. A sleek nightstand held a vintage lamp in the corner, while a polished desk offered a coffee maker and a big flat-screen TV handing across the bed was screaming Dean’s name. The en-suite bathroom was heaven, featuring a spacious glass shower, complete with fragrant candles and premium toiletries.

Every detail was screaming luxury and I knew I made the right choice.

We put our bags on the floor and I turned to Dean to see him staring back at me. 

“Happy birthday, handsome!” I said and kissed him gently. He immediately pulled me closer to him, closing the gap between us, deepening the kiss, and making me moan a little. I could feel his stubble on my face, his hands on my hips, slowing moving downwards to cup my ass. 

“Shower?” He asked before moving his lips to my neck. 

“Please,” I managed to say. 

After having a quick shower we went to bed and he made love to me until we eventually fell asleep only knowing the sound of each other's names. I loved that man with all my heart and soul. 

***

The next morning we woke up at around 8 am, which was our usual time, and went to have breakfast. 

The breakfast buffet was a sight to see. There were freshly baked pastries like croissants, danishes, and muffins, all warm and inviting. A big bowl of colorful fruits sat nearby, with strawberries, melons, and pineapple ready to be picked.

In another section, you could find hot dishes: scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and plump sausages. There was also a selection of artisanal breads, with butter and a variety of jams to choose from. The drink station had fresh coffee and juices. Dean and I were salivating. 

“Oh, this bacon looks crisp!” Dean said joyfully as he put a handful of bacon on his plate. 

“If monsters don't kill us, high cholesterol sure will,” I chuckled and put a couple of pieces next to my eggs. 

Breakfast of champions: bacon, eggs, fluffy croissants, coffee and for dessert fluffy American pancakes with maple syrup. No matter where we went we would always eat the same thing for breakfast.

“The pancakes are so good, my God!” I said as I stuffed my face.

“I need more bacon!” Dean said and went to get more. 

After breakfast, we ended up taking an hour-long post-breakfast nap.

***

The concert was at 9 pm. After we woke up Dean wanted to go swimming before lunch so I gave him his new and only pair of swim trunks: blue shorts with yellow ducks all over. 

“Seriously?” Dean said, looking at himself in the mirror next to our bed.

“I look ridiculous.”

I tried so hard not to laugh.

“It was either ducks or small purple dildos.” 

Dean's face went blank as he looked at himself once more.

“Ducks are good.” 

I, on the other hand, bought a black bikini that was perfect for my body. The sleek design highlighted my figure, and the black color added a touch of elegance. I was oozing confidence and sexiness and Dean couldn't get enough of it. His gaze never left my body and it was filled with admiration and affection. His expression was a mix of pride and appreciation. He was on another planet.

“Dean?” 

“Um?” He asked, his eyes still fixed on my figure, his mouth partially opened. 

“Your gun is showing.” 

He looked down and saw what I meant. 

“Crap!”  

“Let me take care of that before we go!�� I chuckled and pointed to the bed. 

***

The pool was nice and big. After an hour of fucking like rabbits we went for a swim only to realize we were too exhausted to do anything with our bodies, so we went to the sauna. 

In the sauna, my skin felt like it was being enveloped in a warm embrace. The heat made me aware of every pore, and I could feel the sweat starting to bead up and trickle down. It was both soothing and invigorating; my skin felt alive, flushed with warmth. 

“I can't believe you planned all of this,” Dean said and closed his eyes, enjoying the sweat dripping from his skin.

I wanted to say it. I wanted to say those goddamn words, but I bit my tongue once more. 

“I know, I'm the best,” I said proudly, while in the back of my mind the sentence "Love makes you do crazy things" echoed over and over again. 

***

Lunch time, another post food nap and it was time to get ready. Dean wore his usual: jeans, a new Metallica shirt he got from Sam, a leather jacket, and combat boots. I decided it was time to turn myself into a rock’n’roll bombshell. I was going to wear leather black pants, Dean's old Ride the Lightning shirt I “borrowed” and never gave it back, and my staple: black Dr. Martens. I did my hair all nice and curly, and my makeup was a bit over the top and not something I usually do.

I was standing in front of the mirror as I started with a flawless matte base, then created a smokey eye with deep blacks and a dramatic wing. Thick eyeliner and voluminous false lashes (that I bought just for this occasion) made my eyes pop. I swiped on dark, matte plum lipstick and defined my brows to frame my face.

A touch of contour enhanced my cheekbones, and I added a hint of shimmer to my inner corners. Feeling powerful and sexy I was ready to heal my inner child with the love of my life. 

“How do I look?” I asked Dean as I put on my leather jacket. 

He bit his lower lip and scanned every inch of me in a second.

“Freakin’ gorgeous,” he exclaimed, making me blush. 

He was never shy to give me compliments and show me how attracted he was to me. Even in pajamas, dying from period cramps, and crying because my favorite ice cream was sold out, he would still tell me how amazing and pretty I was. Like I said, I loved that man with all my heart and soul, it was pathetic and beautiful.

I kissed him and we were on our way. 

We came four hours earlier at around 5 pm, a few minutes before they opened the gates and let us in. In an hour Ice Nine Kills was going to perform and after them Five Fingers Death Punch. When we came in, the pit was already filled with people, but it wasn't full yet. We found a spot just a few inches from the stage. My heart was pounding, I couldn't believe I was there, while Dean was squeezing my hand tightly not wanting to let go. 

“Do you want a beer?” Dean asked me. 

“I don't think that's a good idea. If we drink we will have to go and if we have to go we will abandon this perfect spot. A lot of people are already coming in.” 

Dean nodded.

“Water?”

“That will do,” I agreed, considering we would be standing probably until midnight, staying hydrated was important.

He left to buy us two cups and came back after five minutes. The space was already getting crowded and I was growing impatient. 

“I still can't believe we are here,” he told me. He was buzzing with excitement, eyes shining and bouncing on his heels. 

“Do you think they will play Enter Sandman?” I asked him. 

“I hope so. Pops used to play that song all the time in the car when I was a kid. Sam hated it.” 

“My dad used to sing me that song whenever I couldn't fall asleep. I was a lousy sleeper but for some reason, that song would always put me into a coma.”

I told Dean as I remembered how much I missed my old man.

“You're still a lousy sleeper,” he said, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. 

“Yeah, because now I cannot sleep without you,” I said and kissed his cheek. I always had trouble sleeping, going to bed after 3 am, waking up at 3 pm, tossing and turning, nightmares, and so on… until I started sleeping next to him. I was never a big cuddler, especially since I would always feel uncomfortable whenever someone would try to hold me while I slept, but with him it was different. I would sleep like a baby next to him, he was home to me. His heartbeat was my white noise and his warmth was my safe space. 

He smiled back at me and at that moment the show began. 

Ice Nine Kills was…something else. Dean and I were trying to decide if we liked the music or not, but one thing we agreed on was: that we LOVED the performance. Gore, blood, and chainsaws were all far too familiar, but we especially loved horror references. The music was not bad, but considering we were both classic rock fanatics it wasn't something we would actively listen to. 

“I love the Nightmare on Elm Street reference,” I commented after they finished the first song. 

“Not bad,” Dean agreed as he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and pulled me closer. 

We were jamming to songs we'd never heard before. People around us were either utterly confused or dancing and head-banging like it was their last day on Earth. 

“Oh! That's the Texas Chainsaw Massacre!” Dean said in my ear. 

“I know,” I laughed, but I don't think he heard me considering the music was pounding in my ears. 

After a good hour, they were done. The crowd was growing impatient again and so were we. 

“Five Finger Death Punch is next!” I said and took a sip of my almost empty cup of water. 

“I'm kinda excited about that.”

And to be honest I was too. We heard a couple of their songs like Wrong Side of Heaven and Jekyll and Hyde and instantly fell in love with the singer's voice. Dean even said the vocalist sounded a lot like David Draiman of Disturbed and I definitely could hear that. 

We were waiting for what felt like hours and my legs started to hurt. I forgot what it felt like standing for so long; the last time I went to a concert I was 16 and my family was still alive. Dad took me to see Deep Purple, it was an unforgettable day. 

Five Finger Death Punch came at exactly 8 pm. The band made everyone jump and scream. Their energy was unmatched and the vocalist was giving his all. His voice was strong. The guitarist even threw a couple of picks and Dean almost caught one.

“Damn it!” He shouted. 

“Don't worry, maybe you will catch one from Kirk later.” 

We all completely lost it when they closed the show with the iconic song Dean and I both loved: Jekyll and Hyde. I was singing my heart out with my man and the rest of the crowd while the singer was jumping around the stage. This whole band had such a strong presence, and I decided to check their other stuff after the show. 

"Thank you all for being an incredible audience! Your energy means the world to us. I hope you enjoyed the show as much as we loved performing for you. It was an honor to open for one of the greatest bands to ever exist! Enjoy the rest of the show and be safe!” The singer said and the whole stadium screamed and clapped. 

“DAMN RIGHT!” Dean yelled and I smiled. 

Seeing Dean so at peace with life and enjoying the present moment made my heart flutter. That man deserved the world and even though I couldn't give him one where he was truly happy (mainly because that would require him to leave hunting behind and he would never do that) I could still make his world a little bit brighter. 

I turned around and kissed him, leaving a smudge of lipstick on his perfectly full lips. 

“Are you ready?” I asked him whipping the stain from his lips with my thumb. 

Dean grinned widely, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Abso-freakin’-lutely!” 

People around us were shouting, screaming, and clapping from excitement, and some people went to get more beer, and pee before the show– it was a beautiful chaos around us. 

“My legs are killing me already,” Dean complained, trying to stretch as much as he could in the sea of people. 

“Yeah, mine turned to stone,” I said and checked my phone only to see they were 20 minutes late. Being late was my biggest pet peeve; even the legendary band that was Metallica didn’t have an excuse. I groaned silently and looked at the empty stage again. I was impatient and filled with adrenaline; ready to sing my heart out, but at the same time I was missing the hotel bed. 

Ten minutes later, our favorite chaotic drummer appeared, sending the whole stadium into a state of pure excitement and borderline madness. He waved and then Robert and Kirk appeared with their guitars and big smiles on their faces. The crowd was cheering even louder. 

“Kirk’s hair is fabulous!” I told Dean, while we were clapping. 

“Yeah, Sam should take some notes!”

And finally, there he was, in the flesh, our favorite voice and my favorite silver fox: James. I've had a crush on James ever since I was a little girl and seeing him right in front of me in his black leather pants, black boots, black shirt, and his beautiful gray beard and hair made my heart beat faster. The man had the presence of a God and I was his loyal worshiper. 

“Oh my God! IT'S HAPPENING!” Dean yelled and hugged me from behind. 

As the lights dimmed and the crowd erupted, Dean and I felt a surge of adrenaline once again. The opening chords of Ride the Lightning sliced through the air, and we couldn’t contain ourselves. With a wild grin, Dean threw his fists in the air, the pulse of the music igniting a fire within him. I was too starstruck to sing, my voice too shy to come out as I was standing there with my phone in the air trying to record a video with my shaky hands. It was my dad's favorite song and I wanted to immortalize this very moment.

Meanwhile, Dean was transported into another dimension. He swayed to the heavy riffs, shouting the lyrics as they echoed around him. Each note was a release, a reminder of the thrill of being alive. At that moment, we were just fans—no monsters, no worries—lost in the pure magic of live music.

“GOOD EVENING INGLEWOOD! ARE YOU READY TO HAVE SOME FUN?” James' voice was powerful with a gravelly timbre that conveyed excitement. We all screamed and with that, they started playing the second song. 

“HOLY SHIT!” I yelled when I realized it was indeed For Whom The Bell Tolls.

As the iconic opening riff surged through the venue, Dean’s heart raced. He felt the familiar rush of nostalgia wash over him, memories of late nights with Sam on the road in the Impala echoing in his mind. The deep, heavy chords resonated in his chest, and he instinctively raised his fists, the crowd's energy fueling his excitement. 

With each thundering beat, he found himself singing along. His grin widened, and he couldn’t help but sway with the music, lost in the moment. For Dean, it wasn’t just a song; it was a reminder of everything he fought for—the bond with his brother, the battles they faced, and the moments of joy amidst the chaos. This was rock and roll at its finest, and he was right where he belonged.

 I, on the other hand, was trying so hard not to cry. The haunting melody of For Whom the Bell Tolls wrapped around me, pulling at my heartstrings. I felt a mix of exhilaration and nostalgia, the weight of the moment overwhelming as memories flooded back—times spent with my family, laughter shared, my mom telling my dad to turn the volume down. Oh, how I missed my parents at that very moment! The intensity of the crowd, the energy of the band, and the raw emotion in the music made it hard to hold back tears. It was a cathartic release. Dean was standing behind me pulling me closer with one hand as I was holding onto his index finger. I wiped my tears and sang my heart out for my mom and dad and after they finished the song I was left with a slight pain in my right ear. I might have forgotten to bring earplugs, but the truth was I didn't want to nor cared about protecting my ears from potential damage. To quote Dean: “Metallica is too good for earplugs.” 

After bringing back so many good memories it was time to mix it up and play something from their newest album.

The melody of Lux Æterna hit me like a bolt of electricity. It opened with a powerful, aggressive guitar riff that instantly raised the tension in the air. As the verses rolled in, the haunting yet energetic melody intertwined with a sense of urgency. When the chorus exploded, the vocals soared, filling me with a mix of exhilaration and defiance. I was completely engulfed in the sound, feeling every note resonate deep within me, embodying everything I loved about Metallica as Dean pulled me closer to him while we were jumping in sync. 

“Lux Æternaaaaaaaaa!” We would sing completely out of tune with James. 

As Lux Æterna blared through the speakers, the crowd became a living entity, energy surging with every note. Fans pumped their fists and sang along, their voices rising in a powerful roar. Some swayed with eyes closed, while others jumped, danced, and headbanged, united in exhilaration. 

“You guys are amazing!” James said. He was covered in sweat and I was salivating. The man was a definition of aging like fine wine and my daddy issues were showing. 

I turned to Dean who was hypnotized, his eyes never leaving the stage. 

"Would you give me a hall pass if I cheated on you with James?"

Dean arched an eyebrow, a playful smirk crossing his face. “James, huh?”

Amusement in his eyes, he added. “If you think I’m letting you run off with a rock star, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Really?” I smirked.

“You’re mine—rock star or not.” 

I couldn’t help but laugh at Dean’s reaction. “You think I’d leave you for James Hetfield? Really?” I teased, arching an eyebrow. His playful jealousy was endearing, and it warmed my heart.

Dean smirked, leaning in with that familiar teasing glint in his eyes. “Just making sure you know where my head’s at,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of seriousness.

“Rock star or not, I’m the one who gets to take you home.” He chuckled, and I could see the warmth in his gaze. “It’s you and me against the world, always.” At that moment, I felt a rush of affection, knowing our bond was stronger than any fleeting fantasy.

As the opening notes of Until It Sleeps fill the venue, the crowd erupts into a frenzy, a sea of raised fists. The energy was electric, and I felt the pulse of the music vibrating through me as everyone swayed together, singing along with wild abandon.

Beside me, Dean’s face lit up with pure joy, his excitement infectious. I glanced at him, my heart swelling with happiness, knowing this moment was deepening our connection. Surrounded by the thrumming bass and the roar of the crowd, I realized this night will be one we’ll always treasure. The crowd swayed around us, but at this moment, it was just us. He sang every word with fervor, and I couldn't help but join in.

The set list was out of this world: Whiplash, Too Far Gone? Welcome Home (Sanitarium), No Leaf Clover, The Call of Ktulu, and Moth into Flame are just a few they chose. 

During Wherever I May Roam Dean and I were screaming every word so hard that I knew our vocal cords would hate us later. We would usually listen to that song after every successful hunt. It became a staple, a reminder of why we do what we do, and a beacon of hope. 

“HOLY SHIT!” I shouted at him with a huge grin on my face.

“HOLY SHIT!” Dean shouted back and kissed me.

The band was looking so good.

I loved seeing Robert jamming with the fans with his signature long and beautiful braids while absolutely nailing every note on his base and Kirk just being Kirk and owning the stage in his green leather jacket. Lars was an absolute beast even at 60 years old. 

When they started playing Inamorata, James took his time to walk around the stage while playing his guitar and smiled at us all. I could see his face as clear as day: his blue eyes had that sparkle of happiness; he had been doing this for decades and you could still see how much it made him overjoyed to see people enjoying his band's music, his smile was infectious and captivating and I couldn't believe he was standing right in front of me. 

I turned to see Dean – he was completely mesmerized, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, staring at James as if he were witnessing a miracle. I chuckled softly, knowing he was the happiest man alive. It was beautiful to see this vulnerable side of him, and I couldn’t help but lean closer, sharing in his joy as the music enveloped us.

The next two songs were Blackened and One. To be completely honest I forgot about Blackened. I was so high on adrenaline, oxytocin, and serotonin that I couldn't remember the song and I was too embarrassed to ask Dean about it. I knew it was an old song, a classic, and I knew Dean would give me a death stare so I kept my mouth shut and listened to him sing (yell). 

After the forgotten song James and his bandmates decided to rip our hearts out.

The ominous sounds of distant gunfire and explosions played through the speakers and the crowd fell into a hushed reverence. The chilling audio of war set an intense backdrop for the song that used to make me cry. The moment I recognized the opening notes of  One, a thrill shot through me, and I felt my pulse quicken in anticipation. It was as if the world around me faded away, leaving only the haunting melody that resonated with the depths of my soul. I never thought I would hear this song live. My dad showed me the music video when I was eleven (my mother was furious, and thought it was inappropriate) and I cried my eyes out, but loved the song. I rarely listen to that song though, it was too raw and reflected sorrow and despair in a way I knew far too well. 

Dean took my hand and placed a soft kiss as James started to sing. I pulled him by his shirt and kissed him, wanting this moment to last forever. He cupped my face pulling me closer, ignoring the sound of people around us screaming the lyrics. It was just me and him, always. 

When I broke the kiss I was inches away from his face. 

As the crowd roared and the lights pulsed, I turned to Dean, adrenaline still rushing through me. With One echoing around us, I blurted out, “I love you.”

Time froze as surprise washed over his face, vulnerability breaking through his bravado. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the music. At that moment, amidst the chaos, I saw that beneath his tough exterior, he was just as scared of love as he was of losing it.

His eyes locked onto mine, and a slow smile spread across his face. “You mean that?” he asked, his voice softening amidst the music.

Before I could respond, he pulled me close, his arm wrapping around my waist. “I love you too,” he whispered in my ear.

At that moment, surrounded by the concert’s chaos, everything felt right. 

Throughout the concert, I took a couple of videos and even got a picture of James shredding his guitar for my new phone wallpaper, but nothing could prepare me for the next song.

“ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?” James said as the opening riff of Enter Sandman sliced through the air, the arena exploded into a frenzy of energy. Lights flashed in sync with the relentless beat, illuminating faces filled with exhilaration. The heavy guitar reverberated through my body, a primal force that united the crowd in a shared heartbeat.

“DEAN!” I shouted, jumping up and down in excitement. 

“I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW!” He screamed. 

Everyone was singing, fists pumping, the raw intensity of Metallica's sound creating a charged atmosphere that felt almost electric. It was a moment of pure chaos and exhilaration, where the music enveloped us, and nothing else mattered.

Suddenly giant yellow and black balls began to fall from above, bouncing energetically into the crowd. They bounced and rolled, creating an atmosphere of pure chaos and fun. Fans reached up, trying to catch them, laughter and cheers erupting as the balls added an unexpected burst of excitement to the already electrifying performance. The sight of those bright, playful orbs amidst the intensity of the music created a surreal, unforgettable experience. One fell on us too as we jumped with other people making it fly to our left. I was trying to take a video but my hand was shaking while I couldn't stop jumping next to Dean screaming and feeling my throat slowly tighten. 

Kirk nailed his solo, while his hair stayed fabulous and James was getting himself ready for the big finale. 

“Hush, baby, don't say a word,”

“And never mind that noise you heard,”

“It's just the beasts under your bed,”

“In your closet, in your head!” 

Dean and I were screaming at each other's faces, filled with nothing but love for one another. 

“Exit light!”

“Enter night!”

“Grain of sand!”

“Exit light!”

“Enter night!”

“Take my hand!”

“We're off to never-never land, yeah”

James voice was so raw, so strong, I was still trying to figure out how he was 61 years old. 

“Boo!”

“Yeah-yeah!”

“Yo, whoa!” 

The song ended. I was already getting sad because I knew it was the end. I checked my phone and it was almost midnight. 

The song finished and we all cheered and clapped wanting more.

I heard people yell encore, but after 15 songs they were done. Lars threw his drumsticks at us and someone behind us caught it. He said thank you but the crowd was so loud I couldn't hear him. Until he got in front of the microphone and said: “You were amazing tonight! Thank you for coming!” 

We all screamed even louder. Robert came and tossed a couple of picks and people in front of us were fighting to catch it. He threw five picks in total, covering every part of the pit.

“Come on! I want one!” Dean yelled. We were all still clapping. 

“Wait for Kirk! We are close!” I told him. 

He indeed came next and blessed fans with a couple of picks, but Dean was now too close to catch one and it flew right above his head…

“DAMN IT!” 

James, covered in sweat and looking like a God came right in front of us. I was standing there, completely ignoring Dean and trying to remember every corner of that man's face. While I was in Neverland and watching James throw his picks I didn't even register Dean screaming my name. 

“(Y/N)!” 

“Huh?” I snapped back finally and saw him holding a small white pick that had White Fang written on it.

“OH MY GOD!” I yelled. 

“I DID IT!” He yelled back. 

I loved seeing my man truly happy. I loved that band and I loved everything about that day. 

***

Getting out of the venue was a nightmare. The crowd surged around us, bodies jostling and voices blending into a chaotic mix of excitement and exhaustion. I clung to Dean’s arm, grateful for his steady presence as we stepped into the cool night air.

“That was insane,” I said, smiling up at him. He grinned back, eyes still shining with adrenaline. As we navigated through the sea of fans, I felt a rush of happiness, knowing we had shared something truly unforgettable.

“That was incredible!” Dean exclaimed, his voice full of energy. “ Best night ever! Best birthday ever!” His smile widened as he looked at me, clearly still buzzing from the concert. 

My legs were in pain, I was thirsty and sleepy but it was all worth it. 

We were back in our hotel room 10 minutes later, both covered in sweat ready to sleep. 

I took off my clothes right away, feeling like my legs were on fire. 

“I'm in so much pain!” I complained. 

“I cannot feel my legs!” Dean said. 

“I'm gonna shower. Wanna join?” I was in my underwear standing next to him waiting for him to stop staring at my boobs.

“Coming!” He simply said and started taking off his pants while his eyes never left my boobs. I loved the fact he loved my body. I, like any woman in this cruel “man's world” sometimes would look at myself in the mirror and just hate what was staring back at me. His little stares were a strong reassurance that I was bullshitting.

Usually, showers meant fooling around (shower sex was complicated), but we were too tired for anything but kisses. We lazily washed ourselves in silence, kissing each other here and there. 

“So you love me, huh?” He smirked between kisses. I just smiled at him as the warm water was pouring down my back. 

“Yeah, imagine that! You're loveable,” I said as I was shampooing his hair. His eyes were closed but his mouth formed a small o. 

“Well…” 

“Shut up!” I told him. 

After we were all nice and clean it was time to finally get some sleep. I put on a clean pair of underwear and Dean's old Led Zeppelin shirt I also “borrowed” and he put on a clean pair of black boxers. 

We snuggled underneath the blanket, my head resting on his chest, feeling my body slowly relaxing and falling asleep. 

“You really think I'm loveable?” Dean asked, suddenly. I was half asleep, but this question tore my heart a little and now I was wide awake. I knew he thought he was unworthy of love, unlovable, unclean and it made me incredibly sad, especially because he was the definition of a hero with a heart of gold. 

“It’s hard to not fall in love with you, Dean. If you could only see yourself through my eyes, you would understand,” I told him and lifted my head and kissed him, but this time deepening the kiss. I was tired, and my body was in pain, but the urge to be close to him, to love him, was consuming me. He moaned into the kiss and immediately got on top of me. My hands went in his damp hair. 

We kissed for a while, our souls intertwined, our bodies keeping each other warm before his hand went into my now wet panties, his finger entered me making me arch my back, moaning even louder into the kiss. I was still in pain, but Dean's touch was slowly healing me until all I could feel was pleasure and love. His finger suddenly left my panties and I was left needy and desperate, but he wasted no time and took off his boxers, his dick fully hard. “Lift your hips, sweetheart!” He demanded and I did, letting him take off my underwear. 

He kissed me again before he positioned himself between my legs and entered me. I was so wet and desperate that I took him all instantly. 

“You feel so good!” He whispered, his voice deep and raspy, sending shivers down my whole body. I dug my nails into his back as he started to move, light moans escaping my lips.

We were one. One soul, two bodies, always. 

“Dean!” I moaned pathetically over and over again as his pace became more erratic. I was so close, so so close.

“God, I love when you say my name!” He managed to say as his face was buried in my neck. “Say it again!” He said and slammed into me. 

“FUCK, DEAN!” I screamed, digging my nails into his back, even harder. I could feel the orgasm coming like a tidal wave. 

“Oh God!” He moaned into my ear and slammed into me over and over again. 

My toes curled, my whole body stiff as my skin was covered in goosebumps. An intense wave of electricity rushed through me as I came so hard I could see stars. Dean didn't stop until he came into me, filling me up completely. I'll have to worry about potential pregnancy tomorrow since we completely forgot the concept of condoms. 

We were both breathless, covered in sweat, and panting in each other's faces. 

“Best birthday ever?” I asked him.

“Best birthday ever,” he smiled. 

I was not ready to check out tomorrow. I was not ready to board that plane and say goodbye to this hotel room. I was not ready for this to end. 

As I was laying on his chest, slowly drifting away with my thoughts and as my body relaxed and felt heavier with each passing minute, Dean was playing with my hair and before I started dreaming I heard him whisper:

“I love you so much, sweetheart.” 

[riveramorylunar]

Even though it's past Christmas I have to reblog this because it's cute 🥹

'Twas The Night Before Christmas!!

Pairings: Lady Lesso x Reader, Nemuri Kayama x Reader, Lady Lesso x Reader x Nemuri Kayama

Warnings ⚠️: student x teacher relationship, age gap, height difference, freezing & forbidden love

Pet Names/Nicknames: Darling, Sweetheart, Beautiful Girl, Little Dove, Nemmie & Leo

Word Count: 1,235

Soft Carol Of The Bells

'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the schools not a single person was stirring, not even a wolf or fairy or so they thought. In one of the halls of the school for good a certain brown haired girl roamed around. The girls name was Y/N Y/L/N and she lived in Gavaldon with her mean step mother and barely at home dad.

She walked through the halls until she came upon the front doors. She looked around making sure no one was around before quietly slipping out of the school. She ran off towards the forest that was a distance away from the schools. It was the only forest that wasn't enchanted so it was the perfect place to hide away. When she got into the clearing in the middle of the forest she smiled before looking up at the beautiful stars.

She heard rustling a few seconds later and turned around to see her two favorite people Leonora and Nemuri walking out of the bushes. She ran over and hugged them both and they both smiled before hugging back. "I missed you guys" Y/N said as she pulled away. Leonora smiled before patting Y/N's head. "We missed you too Beautiful god I'm so glad you can be in our arms again" Nemuri said as she pulled Y/N into a hug. Y/N pulled away and smiled before stepping away.

Y/N turned around to see Leonora kneeling down with her pointer finger out. She watched as a blanket and food appeared out of thin air and smiled. Leonora looked up and raised her eyebrow. "Don't just stand there come on" she said and Y/N walked over followed by Nemuri. Y/N sat down as the other two sat down across from her.

Y/N reached for a Raspberry as Leonora and Nemuri watched her eat it before smiling. Y/N looked up to see the two of them looking at her causing her to stop. "Do I got something on my face" Y/N said as she reached up to touch her face. They both chuckled before shaking their heads no. "No Darling you have nothing on your face" Leonora said before holding her hand out which Y/N took. "We couldn't stop looking at you because you're absolutely beautiful" Leonora said as she pulled Y/N close to her. Y/N leaned back against Leonora as they interlocked their fingers together. Soft christmas music started playing and they looked over to see Nemuri's pointer finger glowing. She smiled before winking as she bit into a macaroon. Y/N & Leonora laughed before shaking their heads.

"I missed being able to do this" Y/N said before she ate a cracker with cheese on it. "We missed it too we've been so caught up with grading papers and we're sorry for that" Nemuri said as she looked at Y/N before smiling. "No need to be sorry I understand" Y/N said before eating a macaroon.

They stayed in comfortable silence as Christmas music played in the background while they ate. After a while Leonora and Nemuri looked at each other and nodded before looking at Y/N. "Hey darling can you dance for us like old times" Leonora said and Y/N sat up before smiling. "Of course Leo anything for my two favorite teachers" Y/N said before standing up and letting go of Leonora's hand. As she got into position carol of the bells started playing on the piano. Nemuri & Leonora watched as Y/N danced to the music as fireflies started flying around her. They watched in fascination as their lover danced gracefully while they drank their wine. "I missed watching her dance so elegantly" Leonora said before looking at Nemuri who looked back at her. "I did too, there's just something about the way she dances that makes it so memorizing" Nemuri said as she looked back at Y/N to see her already looking.

Once the music stopped Y/N stopped and looked at Leonora and Nemuri who were already looking at her. As Y/N looked up at the sky something hit her in the face. She saw that snow was starting to fall making her smile. It was the fourth snowfall of this year. Snow was already on the ground covering the green grass. Y/N bent down and scooped up some snow into a snowball before standing back up and looking at the two who were sitting on the ground. "Y/N don't you dare th-" Leonora was cut off when the snowball hit her in the face. Nemuri busted out laughing and Leonora glared at her before her finger glowed. Nemuri's eyes widened in shock when she felt a lot of snow fall on top of her. Before Nemuri could do anything she was tackled to the ground by Y/N. Nemuri grunted before looking up at Y/N who was smiling like a little kid. Nemuri smirked and rolled over so she was on top now. "Leo help me" Y/N whined out as she looked at Leo who was just watching.

Nemuri got off of Y/N when she started shivering. Leonora immediately made a fire pit appear and told Y/N to get close. Y/N sat up and crawled over to Leonora as Nemuri did as well. Y/N leaned back against Leonora again as Nemuri wrapped the three of them into blankets. "We have something for you Little Dove" Leonora said before nodding at Nemuri. Nemuri stood up before kneeling down in front of Y/N. She held out one of her hands and two small wrapped boxes appeared in her hand. "These are for you" Nemuri said and Y/N looked at her and she nodded. Y/N leaned forward and grabbed them both before opening the long rectangular one. Her eyes widened in shock as she took the necklace out and held it up. It was silver with black diamonds on it along with regular ones. She sat up before looking at Leonora who looked back at her. "You bought this" Y/N said and Leonora shook his head no. "I made it" she said before taking the necklace from Y/N's hand. Y/N moved her hair out of the way and Leonora clasped the necklace around Y/N's neck before kissing her neck. Y/N grabbed the other box and slowly opened it to see a golden ring with a ruby in the middle. Her eyes widened in shock before she looked up at Nemuri. "It's a promise ring" Nemuri said and Y/N held the box out for Nemuri. She took it before taking the ring out. Nemuri held her hand out and Y/,/N rested her hand on hers. Nemuri slipped it on Y/N's pointer finger before leaning in and kissing her on the lips.

"I didn't get you guys anything" Y/N frowned and the two of them just smiled. "You're all we need Sweetheart" Nemuri said before smiling softly. Leonora pulled Y/N back and grabbed her by the jaw before kissing her. She pulled away and smiled before kissing her cheek. "Merry Christmas Our Beautiful girl" Leonora and Nemuri said at the same time. "Merry Christmas Leo & Nemmie" Y/N said as they huddled up to the fire.

A/N: I'm happy to present to you the first fic of Ficmas!!! And decided to post this early because I couldn't help it

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Hugo Drama

Hugo Gernsback: hey everyone its me, hugo gernsback Gernsback: editor of Amazing Stories and namesake of the hugo awards Gernsback: perhaps you've heard of them? Clive Barker: oh buddy Barker: buddy Barker: we've heard all about them ha ha

Stephen King: they're named after you? i thought they were named after victor hugo Gernsback: ha ha a common mistake Gernsback: but that's fine Gernsback: i'm not mad at all that victor hugo keeps getting the credit Gernsback: i think its funny Gernsback: in fact i'm laughing

Gernsback: ah yes my precious hugo awards! Gernsback: the most prestigious award in science fiction and fantasy! Gernsback: a place for serious business Gernsback: certainly no room for shenanigans here Gernsback: no room for tomfoolery Gernsback: no room for clownish buffoonery

Gernsback: The Hugo -- an award whose very name rings with integrity & honor!   Gernsback: it is no mere nebula! no paltry clarke! Gernback: the stoker, the howard, the lambda - none can compare! Gernsback: the L Ron hubbard writers of the future award? pah! dust before the hugo!

Gernsback: only the choicest cuts of science fiction and fantasy would ever achieve the lofty hugo award Gernsback: an award forever untainted by shenanigans or hijinks! Gernsback: now to take a big sip of coffee and read this  file 770 report!

Gernsback: what the--?! Gernsback: my beautiful hugos!!! tainted by the foul stench of corruption!!! Clive Barker: yeah boy i bet victor hugo's just sick about it Gernsback: Barker: just sick about what they did to his award Gernsback: Barker: ha ha Poe: clive leave him alone

Gernsback: my hugo!!! you were supposed to be a thing of beauty... not this monstrosity! Dean Koontz: gosh he's so sad about his award Koontz: do you think it would cheer him up if i gave him my nickelodean kids choice award? Poe: i think that would be a very nice gesture dean

Chris M Barkley: [thrusting microphone] Mr gernsback! mr gernsback! a statement for the press? Jason Sanford: [thrusting microphone] how do you respond to the allegations about your award mr gernsback? Gernsback: confound these intrepid newshounds of the 4th estate!

Gernsback: [wiping brow] don't worry, we will be taking measures to fix this Barkley: what are you going to do mr gernsback? Sanford: the people demand an answer mr gernsback! Gernsback: we'll uh Gernsback: we'll nominate an essay called 'Dave McCarty Can Fuck Off Into the Sun'

Gernsback: what a debacle! i cannot believe my good name will now forever be associated with such shady practices! HP Lovecraft: hey when are you gonna pay me for my story you ran? Gernsback: new phone, who dis?

Gernsback: you know who this really hurts? Gernsback: worse than the nominees secretly disqualified for politics? Gernsback: worse than the entirety of Chinese science fiction secretly disqualified for being Chinese? Gernsback: worse than the winners whose awards are now tainted?

Gernsback: the person that this hurts most of all Gernsback: is clearly bitter karella Gernsback: for reasons i can't articulate Gernsback: everyone should immediately go and heap conciliatory praise on bitter karella Gernsback: truly the most wronged person of all

Bitter Karella: [bravely holding back tears] no no it's not about me Bitter Karella: [voice cracking] my only thought is for the hugo community who has been through... so much... Bitter Karella: [stoically gazing into distance] they're the REAL heroes

Gernsback: look how bitter karella keeps a brave face... for our sake! King: god bitter karella is so brave... and so modest! Poe: truly a great goblin Poe: possibly the greatest Koontz: why? what did they do? Poe: dean! show some respect!

[tammyren]

It wasn’t the ending that was planned, but I truly believe it was the ending that was meant to be.

It was heartbreaking, and poignant, and beautiful.

Jared and Jensen have said that they like to think there were five years between the time they killed Chuck and the pie festival. I like to think that too. Sam and Dean, living the life they had always secretly wished for but never dared believed they would have. Years spent in the bunker, taking the occasional hunt, enjoying life with all her ups and downs and peaceful in-betweens.

The very best part of our show is found in the love Sam and Dean have for each other. It’s so rare to find a show that doesn’t insist that romantic love is the only important way you can love—that it should be everyone’s end all and be all. But Supernatural showed us something different. That a love can be intense, profound, life-affirming, beautiful and not be romantic. In those five years, Sam and Dean enveloped each other in that love and they both thrived.

It was bound to end bloody. We were promised that from the beginning. And I’m glad Dean had those five years first. I’m glad he died as he lived—-fiercely, heroically, full-throttle. He died a hero, doing what he loved, his brother by his side.

The barn scene was perfect in the most heartbreaking of ways. Dean’s entire speech, broken and brave, was poignantly devastating. I will never be able to hear the words “I love you so much, my baby brother,” without tearing up. I still live in that barn, with the two of them, watching as Sam’s world crumbles into dust, watching Dean face what’s coming with quiet dignity.

Sam lived. And in doing so, he raised a son He gave Dean Jr the kind of life that Dean had always wished for Sam—a life cocooned in love, a life where the monsters were known but were kept away, a life where Dean Jr could blossom and grow and know beyond anything that his father loved him.

Being that he was named after who Sam believed to be the greatest man that ever lived, I like to think he grew up to do great things as well. But this is not his story.

This is theirs.

And then the show ended on the bridge. The soft way Dean smiled as soon as he sensed his presence. The other half of his soul had been returned to him.

They live there now, together, forever. There’s an endless road and they will travel it together, side by side. Two bodies, one soul, an eternity.

Thank you Supernatural for giving us this ending. Supernatural ended as it began with Sam and Dean. I miss them. I always will.

[wellofdean]

I read your post about Supernatural being queer somehow from season 1 and I have two questions.

1. Don't you think it straight-appropriates the word "queer" to say it just means "not normal"? That argument seems disingenuous to me, and a lot of us want representation, and to see that word applied to explicit depiction of queer sexuality, and it's a cheat that they don't. Queer studies did start as the study of queer sexualities and the experience of queer people.

2. Are you saying that the makers of Supernatural intended for it to be "flesh on queer bones"? Do you think they intentionally sat down to tell a queer story?

Those are good questions my anonymous friend. Thank you for asking. Here are my thoughts:

To answer your first question: no, I don't think it appropriates anything. Here's why: firstly, if we're talking about sexuality and gender, it's queer 101 that no one owes anyone a justification of their queerness, and not everyone who is queer is interested in labeling it or making it legible to you, and they have no obligation to do so, and not doing so doesn't make them any less queer. Furthermore, some people who are queer are not interested in sex, so what about them?

All of that together is why, for me, the entire queer project is much more deeply about non-compliance with hegemony, and specifically with hegemony around gender roles, sexuality and to put it under a big umbrella, patriarchy, than it is about who you fuck. Those things extend into so many other aspects of life that I think you can easily talk about "queering" a very wide range of topics, and possibly? ANY TOPIC.

You are responding to this post, I think, and in it, I made a choice to talk about family and hunting, and our heroes roles and characterizations in that, and did not talk about gender shenanigans or sexuality, because my point was that even before we get to anything to do with it, Sam and Dean are immersed in a queered world in a fundamental, structural way. That said, I assure you that if you go back into season 1 of Supernatural, you will find LOADS that could be said about gender and sexuality, too. As well as other things, and a particularly important area, as @ironworked pointed out in the tags, is blue collar/white collar class issues.

As I said, the depth of queerness in Supernatural is actually dizzying just in terms of the story's BONES to say nothing of how they flesh it out. Queerness is about deviation from the norm. It's about rebellion and disobedience against hegemonic systems for the sake of personal authenticity and love.

Think about Cas for a minute. Cas's whole story is that he rejects his role in a hegemonic heaven. He rebels for love, and that is pretty explicit as early as season 4 when he tells Dean "We're making it up as we go". Fellas, that is THE QUEEREST SHIT EVER even if he didn't do it for Dean, and like... HE DID IT FOR DEAN. Cas did not have to tell Dean he loved him for me to know it, and for Cas to be a deeply queered character. When he DID say it, I wasn't the least bit surprised he was in love with Dean, because seriously, we been knew. I was only surprised I got to have the immense pleasure of hearing him say it and looking at Dean's face while he took it in. Jesus. I will NEVER RECOVER.

This is my perspective on representation in Supernatural: It's excellent, and I relate to, and feel seen by it as a queer person. Nobody needs to get fucked on the maps table for me to do the math that this is a queer story. It is very, very, very thoroughgoingly canonically queer in so many ways, and not all of them are to do with sex. I think some fans will only allow it to be called queer if dudes make out in it. I am not one of those fans.

As to your second question, I think there is a wealth of evidence in the filmic oeuvre of Eric Kripke to suggest that as an artist and a writer, he is concerned or maybe even preoccupied with masculinity issues and issues around family, and around the way patriarchy fucks men up. So, yes. I think he knew what he was doing and he knew that queerness was part of the mix. For fucks sake, it's a family of men who hunt monsters. That is very fucking on the nose. Do I think he kicked off Supernatural in 2005 planning a 15 year operatic queer romance between Cas and Dean? No. I don't think anyone planned for it to go as long as it did, and it's a matter of record that some things were influenced by fan response, actors' chemistry, different writers and showrunners' preferences and etc. What I will say is that when they had a choice to "straighten shit out" or lean into the queerness, they fucking leaned in, nearly EVERY TIME. Like, it's pretty amazing how consistently they lean the fuck in.

I'll admit -- I wasn't watching it with those eyes the first time, and I didn't give it much real estate in my mind when I watched it as it aired from 2006 to the end, but the last three episodes reshaped it for me and made me angry, and also made me need to watch it all again, this time with an explicitly queer lens, and BOY HOWDY let me tell you this: the Supernatch rewatch journey is a wild and wonderful trip to Queertown. It is legit more difficult to argue that Dean is straight than it is to argue that he is queer. There is a full on CORNUCOPIA of story evidence to support that read and relatively little that convincingly counters it on the straight side, and that starts right at the beginning, when they bend pretty baby Dean over a police car in episode one, and he smirks insouciantly in his lip gloss. Do I think everyone involved knew how that looked? Sexy, submissive and a bit gay?

YES I DO.

[intricatedemonicrituals]

Canon Destiel Timeline Masterpost

I wrote this all in a fugue state while listening to Green Grow the Lilacs on repeat so forgive any mistakes. @gay-fae ask and ye shall receive

So much has happened in the long and storied history of his fandom so I've decided to try to document it. I've started by looking up every time that canon destiel, destiel event, misha collins, jackles, or some other search terms have spiked on Google and cross referenced them with tumblr or twitter posts from that day. I know a lot of this is Misha stuff, but he does tend to be the one to say things

November 5th, 2020: Season 15, Episode 18 "Despair" airs and Castiel declares his love to Dean. The presidential election, Georgia turning blue, the presumed retirement of Vladamir Putin, Dabi from My Hero Academia, Ouran Host Club season 2, Sherlock season 5, the president of Bolivia being attacked with dynamite, ongoing BLM protests, a twitter artist making racist art of Ted Bundy, Hetalia returning, a dead man being elected Representative for North Dakota, V for Vendetta, scientists discovering a "hell" planet that rains rocks and has lava oceans, and half of Europe being in lockdown all became tumblr news around the same time. Some of these are true, some not.

November 8th, 2020: Misha Collins, in a panel with Richard Speight, states that the confession scene was a "declaration of homosexual love", and that when Castiel goes to the Empty, it is an example of the "Kill your gays" trope.

November 19th, 2020: The finale airs and it is not well loved to say the least. The episode is short, Dean dies by falling on a nail to death fighting vampire clowns, and there are several characters left with dangling unresolved plot threads and arcs, including Castiel. The car is in heaven though. There is very little heard from the cast and crew, if anything.

November 22nd, 2020: Misha Collins, in a livestream, tells a fan that Castiel and Jack are remaking heaven together, Cas has his wings back, and they are rainbow-colored. He had, however, mentioned the rainbow wings before.

November 24th, 2020: The Spanish dub of the confession is released and a "rogue" translator has written "Y yo a ti" or "I love you too" as Dean's response. Destiel goes canon in Spanish. Tumblr stops working as a result.

November 25th, 2020: tumblr user @thebloggerbloggerfun claims Jensen Ackles said "I had a member of the film crew record the confession scene on my phone for me" #unsourced #releasethetapes

November 26th, 2020: Misha doesn't appreciate the rogue translator, but walks that opinion back later the same day

November 27th, 2020: A "leaked" Italian dub of the confession scene shows a mutual confession.

November 28th, 2020: President Obama follows a destiel account on Twitter

November 30th, 2020: The supposed "Italian dub" is revealed as a fake created by user @iotiamo using sound clips from other parts of the Italian dub on show.

December 1st, 2020: Twitter user @mothdean says "misha I know you have a stan acc and spy on us so can we have a hazel update please"

December 3rd, 2020: Misha tweets about Hazel snoring and this is taken as possible confirmation of Misha's secret stan account

December 11th, 2020: A script from Cas's perspective leaks. It says "We see Cass's POV of Dean again - his face drawn, drained of hope. But still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester."

December 16th, 2020: Newsweek runs an article about an article that Misha wrote about the Lewinsky affair while interning in the Clinton White House in which Misha comes off as rather thirsty for Bill

December 20th, 2020: All Supernatural related materials disappear off the CW's website due to a copyright dispute with Warner Brothers

December 31st, 2020: Mishapocalypse redux

February 9th, 2021: Spn cast members Chad Lindberg and Samantha Ferris tweet about a party at the Roadhouse and it grows to become a full Destiel wedding

February 16th, 2021: @steveyockey made a fairly benign post about Jensen Ackles. The notes went wild in a variety of ways and started a rumor that Spn writer Steve Yockey was dead

February 20th, 2021: Steve Yockey is not dead and he should say it

March 3rd, 2021: The German dub drops and it is also romantic in tone

March 6-8th, 2021: A virtual con happens where Jensen discusses Chaos Machine and Jared says he wants to be in their next project. They also show that WAP video. Jensen is giving full mountain man preparing to play Soldier Boy.

March 10th, 2021: The French dub is released. Cas says, "I love you, Dean" and Dean now responds, "Don't do this to me, Castiel"

March 13th, 2021: The company Amazon tweets about Castiel and Misha Collins asks if they ship Deancas or Wincest. Subsequently apologizes.

March 16th, 2021: Misha says he can't speak as Castiel because Warner Brothers" specifically forbade it. #cwsniperconfirmed

March 17th, 2021: Sam and Eileen are getting married! I have no idea how this came about but I'm happy for them

March 23rd, 2021: Chad Lindberg and Samantha Ferris claim on Twitter that the Roadhouse party was about Valentine's day and not a wedding. Ferris specifically said that she worked on the show and that people tried to make Dean/Cas into "something that it wasn't", She also stated she doesn't "know what queerbaiting is" and that it was due to an "agenda". This led to #deanisbi trending on Twitter and Tumblr.

March 31st, 2021: Some possibly fake leaked scripts come up for sale on eBay. Also, Jensen is Batman.

April 1st, 2021: Mishapocalypse redux

April 6th, 2021: Leaked scripts from the 2 final episodes pop up and have several mentions of Cas in them that were omitted. Dean even thinks about Cas's confession when confronting Chuck.

April 18th, 2021: Scripts from seasons 12 and 13 leak. These include scenes from after Cas's death

May 17th, 2021: Jensen's band Radio Company releases an album including the song Watching Over Me

June ~5th, 2021: Misha says at a convention that Watching Over Me is about Castiel. Jensen neither confirms nor denies this when asked about it

June 11th, 2021: It is announced that Misha is publishing a book of poetry

June 18th, 2021: The Russian dub airs and Dean's line is changed to "Don't you dare, Cas"

June 24-28th, 2021: Jensen and Daneel Ackles reveal that they are making a Supernatural prequel series following John and Mary Winchester (a story that NOBODY was asking for). Jensen will reprise his role as Dean and will narrate. Misha hints that he would like to be involved, as do Ruthie Connell, Samantha Ferris, Matt Cohen, and Julie McNiven (the perils of having a cast of mostly immortal characters). But Jared Padalecki first says that he is happy for the Ackles's, he later said he was "gutted", then responded to Robbie Thompson's tweet calling him a "coward" and saying "what an awful thing you've done". The next day, Jensen and Jared both do damage control and say they'll always be brothers

July 17th, 2021: People are asking if Destiel will be canon in Space Jam, Misha's poetry book's cover is revealed to lukewarm reviews and people are talking about a particular poem about piss, and Perfume Genius releases an article that is a self-insert vore fanfiction about having sex with Jensen Ackles

August 2nd, 2021: Perfume Genius is at it again with "Last Friday, I had my eyes removed by Jared Padalecki". No, I do not know why she is doing this.

August 9th, 2021: Destiel fics hit 100k on Ao3. Misha tweets his support and people remember that he sometimes reads fanfiction and theorize he has an A03 account

September 1st, 2021: Misha makes his first Tiktok. There is a short intro before he calls cut, walks behind a screen, and strips his clothes off

September 3rd, 2021: Jake Abel uses Michael and Adam to help sell his hot sauce brand

September 4th, 2021: Misha confirms that the love between Castiel and Dean was "reciprocated"

September 9th, 2021: A clip of the real Italian dub of the confession scene goes viral as it is revealed that, unlike the Spanish dub, they change the line to "ti voglio bene" or essentially "I love you like family". Misha responds with a video saying "Ciao Italia, ti amo" with the subtitle "Love is love in any language"

September 21st, 2021: Misha drops the fact that one of his poems is from Castiel's perspective.

September 30th, 2021: Jensen will be appearing at a con on the same day as Misha and not with Jared for "professional reasons"

October 4th, 2021: Misha responds to a fan's tweet by saying that Jensen has "crazy eyes and a knife in his pocket"

October 10th, 2021: Daneel posts a picture of Jensen intently reading Misha's poetry book in front of a roaring fire on Instagram. Misha responds that he misses them even more

October 12th, 2021: Jensen is cast in Rust, a (rather ill-fated) western and Misha says "Yippie-ki-yay" and calls him a stud in the comments

October 16th, 2021: Denvercon. Jensen and Jared reunite for the first time since THE INCIDENT

April 24th, 2022: Misha Collins says in terms of being an extrovert, an introvert, or a bisexual, he joked "I'm all three". This led to the internet celebrating Misha's newly revealed bisexuality.

April 25th, 2022: Misha Collins comes out as straight. Oops!

June 19th, 2022: According to Misha, Dean's heaven was supposed to be at the Roadhouse with all his friends and Cas was going to be there with him

November 7th, 2022: Misha calls Elon Musk a snowflake

November 12th, 2022: Tumblr starts planning another Mishapocalypse

January 24th, 2023: Jensen and the cast of the Winchesters throw Dean Winchester a birthday party, including wearing silly little hats

February 26th, 2023: At JIBcon 11, Jensen sings an improvised song about an angel while Misha sits cross-legged on the floor looking up at him

April 1st, 2023: 10 year anniversary of the Mishapocalypse

April 16th, 2023: A year after his bisexual whoopsie daisy, Misha says that Warner Brothers asked him to "let it go" and keep pretending to be bisexual.

August 23, 2023: Rogue Spanish translator is revealed to not have gone rogue at all but instead to have followed the script he was given, confirming the existence of a mutual love confession that was cut at some point.

If you can remember any events and dates that I haven't found, please let me know and I'll add them! I haven't really rounded out 2022 and 2023 yet.

[ardentpoop]

unironically dean’s best qualities to me:

referring to other characters as Children in a demeaning manner while being the most emotionally volatile character on the show (“yeah, I lied, but you were being an infant” to sam | “cas, you child. why didn’t you listen to me?”)

smashing nearby objects when he’s restraining himself from hitting a person (sam). for the record this is extremely common behavior for domestic abusers to the point that if you google it you’ll find stories from victims asking “does this count as abuse?”

his simultaneous hero worship of and deep resentment for john (whichever part of him rises to the top depends on the situation he’s in)

coping methods of choice (alcohol and Killing Freaks)

his onscreen admissions that he enjoys hunting because of the sense of control it gives him over other people’s lives

his tendency to let his own self-loathing drown out the feelings of everyone else around him

My Way Or The Highway to a fault (exactly like your controlling dad 😍)

inability to apologize

VIRULENT misogyny/homophobia. delicious.

[zepskies]

Podcast Interview With Idling in the Impala: "Y/N and Let Y/N…"

Here we go! Sandra and Kasey, the lovely hosts of @idlingintheimpalapodcast — the podcast for all things SPN and fanfiction — invited me on the pod for an interview…

We chatted about Dean Winchester and Jensen Ackles’ early roles, the best and worst seasons of SPN, the joys and pains of writing Soldier Boy, and much, much more.

That’s right, there be some hot takes coming in this convo, and I had an absolute blast with these two! (And like I said in Sunday's announcement, I’m also putting my name and my voice out there for the first time! 😆)

So if any of that sounds interesting, feel free to dive in!

(**Important Note: Just to preface, we recorded this back in June, so it was before I posted certain stories or even started developing Lost on You. It was also when Tumblr activity/engagement was going through a spring/summer slowdown lol.

Links to all the fics and podfics we mentioned are at the end of this post.)

Have a listen: ⤵️

Interview Timestamps –

(Plus fic recs, SPN writer shoutouts, and more!)

1:44 – Who’s your guy: Sam or Dean?

3:35 – Getting into Supernatural for the first time (and seeing “Deanisms” in Jensen’s early roles).

10:15 – We debate the best and worst seasons of SPN: talking Mary Winchester, the British MOL, MOC Dean vs. Demon Dean, Chuck/God villainy, “jump the shark” moments, and that ending.

30:29 – Favorite SPN characters besides Sam and Dean.

32:34 – Writing fanfiction, joining Tumblr, and writing reader inserts vs. OCs.

38:05 – To “Y/N” or not “Y/N,” and the power of 2nd person. (**Disclaimer: Despite my hot take on this, I’ve loved a lot of stories by authors who use Y/N in reader insert stories.

Also, if I’m remembering the book You and its characters incorrectly forgive me, it’s been like 5 years since I read it lol.) 

51:00 – Favorite fanfic tropes in romance, the joys and challenges of writing Soldier Boy (AKA: the Original Asshole), and attempting to humanize Ben in Break Me Down.

Shoutout to @deans-spinster-witch always for giving me the inspiration to write BMD. 💚

Why We Love The Boys – A review of Supes Ain’t Always Heroes

1:07:57 – Engaging with readers, tips on increasing engagement, optimizing your Tumblr blog, writing schedules and processes, and incorporating reader feedback into stories.

1:26:38 – Sandra graciously narrated Midnight Espresso (Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader). We chat about what sparked the idea for the ME-verse, self-representation in fanfic, feeding Dean, loving Dean, and writing about culture and ethnicity in the fandom space.

1:38:26 – Chatting about the inspirations behind Smoke Eater, a firefighter!Dean AU; law enforcement procedurals, House MD, and researching for stories.

1:44:30 – Which Jackles character is the easiest or most fun to write?

1:47:39 – The challenges of writing Sam vs. Dean.

1:53:15 – Shoutouts! To some of my favorite SPN authors. I could only remember a few people off the top of my head (stupid me), but I love all of you!!

@waynes-multiverse @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @luci-in-trenchcoats @rizlowwritessortof @waywardxwords

@deanwinchesterswitch @deanbrainrotwritings @deanwritings @spnbabe67 @thatonewriter15

@justagirlinafandomworld @kaleldobrev @artyandink @princessmisery666 @wayward-dreamer (– and many more.)

2:00:40 – How I came up with my username.

2:05:04 – Kasey’s Secret Question…

2:07:38 – Advice to fanfic writers and creatives for inspiration and/or wisdom.

2:16:35 – Sandra and Kasey’s lovely outro: self-representation in fandom, escapism, diverse voices, and more. (“Reach out a hand. Touch somebody. …Not like that.”)

📖 Fics Mentioned:

Sandra: @talltalesandbedtimestories -

Some Sunny Day Series – Dean Winchester x OFC - (I'm in the process of reading this entire series and it's been a joy to read! 💜)

Past Due – Dean Winchester x Reader

The Iceman Cometh – Dean Winchester x Reader

Cowboy Canter (Original Fiction) – Inspired by cowboyish Dean/Jensen.

Kasey: @sam-is-my-safe-word -

English Cottage-verse – Sam Winchester x Reader (I've read it and it's fantastic! 💜)

(K)not for sale – Soldier Boy x Dean Winchester

Alex (Zep/Me) -

Break Me Down – Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Midnight Espresso (& the Series Masterlist) – Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader

Dream With Me – Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader

Smoke Eater – Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Every Second Counts – Russell Shaw x F. Reader

🎙️ Stories/Podfics Sandra has narrated for me:

Podfic Playlist

And please remember to check out all the other awesome interviews, narrated podfics, and fun topics covered by Sandra and Kasey on the Idling in the Impala Podcast!

[whimsyfinny]

He’s a Winchester

Chapter 5

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader

Warnings: language, alcohol, lots of feelings, small angst, bullying, reader being a victim

Chapter Word Count: 6639

MDNI 18+

A/N: sorry this took so long! Life has been a lot aha. I kinda feel like I’ve rambled on with this one, so I’m sorry about that… I also feel like this was kinda a filler chapter? Idk, I’m sorry if this one isn’t as exciting… Either way, I hope you like it! As always, it's only proofread by moi, so let me know of any errors. Also feedback is greatly appreciated!

A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out.

Photos from Pinterest

New Readers Start Here: Chapter 1

Previous Chapter: Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Sunday mornings were the only time we could get away with being lazy. I would crawl out of bed at around eight o’clock - compared to my normal six o’clock - and shuffle downstairs in my pyjamas in search of coffee whilst Levi was either still sleeping or playing Guitar Hero on the PS2, quietly by himself. On this particular Sunday morning, however, I did indeed venture downstairs at just gone eight, and instead of finding one young boy playing video games by himself, I was greeted with the sight of him battling it out with his uncle whilst his dad sat and watched, critiquing his techniques. I padded in quietly, pulling my long soft cardigan around me further as I tried my best to watch on unseen, enjoying this moment just as much as they were and unwilling to pop their happy bubble. I watched for a few minutes, seeing how Sam didn't go easy on Levi just because he was a kid, and how Dean couldn't seem to take his eyes off his son who was entirely immersed in the game, a soft smile taking up permanent residence on his lips. Dean turned his head slightly and caught sight of me in the archway, that soft smile evolving into a pulse quickening grin. He stood quickly, striding over to me with those plaid pyjama pants distractingly low on his hips.

“G’mornin’ sweetheart, you sleep ok?” He was now a few inches away and smelt like coffee and warm linen - it was the sort of scent that wrapped around me and drew me in with an almost dangerous nature.

“Like the dead,” I grinned, looking up at him, “though I'm not surprised after all those beers and our 1AM bedtime. You're a bad influence Winchester,” I poked his chest and had to fight back a groan when I felt how frustratingly firm his muscles were beneath his grey henley. Instead of vocalising my ‘annoyance’, I bit my lip, which in its own way I suppose was worse. Worse, because now those mossy green eyes were looking at my mouth, their gaze lingering before looking back up to my eyes.

“What can I say except I had a good time? It was nice catching up like that. It was like…”

“Like we’d gone back to a simpler time?”

“Like we'd never been apart.” 

Those words held a sudden weight to them that thumped deep in my chest.

“Yeah,” I said quietly, my eyes not leaving him, “I know what you mean”.

We both seemed caught up for a moment, silent and unmoving - just watching each other. He seemed totally steady, save for the deep inhale he took when I held his gaze just a little too long. He cleared his throat, breaking the trance that seemed too quick to have ever even existed in the first place.

“Coffee?” He asked, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder towards the kitchen.

“Coffee sounds great,” I smiled, glancing over to Sam and Levi who'd still failed to notice my arrival.

Dean and I paced leisurely to the kitchen where I was pleasantly surprised to see a pot of coffee already brewed, just waiting to be poured. Dean reached into the overhead cupboard, already learning where things were and selected two mugs. Pouring the hot liquid into both of them before handing me one, we both leant against the counter as I relished the warmth seeping through the ceramic and into my fingertips.

“You know,” I took a sip, humming in satisfaction, “I could get used to this,” my words felt dangerous the moment they slipped from my lips, a part of me kicking myself for vocalising such internal thoughts. Deans eyes widened almost fast enough for me to miss before his gaze returned to normal, his lips parting slightly as his mug paused on the elevation to his mouth. But once that half a second was over, it was like the fleeting surprise never happened. He simply hummed in agreement, his eyes soft and warm.

“Did you sleep ok?” I said quickly, taking the attention away from my earlier slip of words. He grinned with a nod.

“You have no idea how nice it is to sleep somewhere that's not musty and dusty and a possible crime scene from back in the eighties.” I grinned much like he did, my mind suddenly filling with images of brown and orange decor, unwashed bedsheets and spiders who might as well pay rent because they’ve been there so long.

“Well I can assure you that you're safe from all of that here - though no promises on the eighties crime scene, I have no idea who lived in this house back then.”

Deans grin turned more self assured as he raised an eyebrow at me.

“You don't think the equipment I brought would've made a noise if there was something here that went bump in the night?”

“Equipment?” I almost snorted, “you mean the EMF thing that you made on ‘pimp my Walkman’?”

Dean practically clutched his pearls.

“How dare you - that thing is a work of art. Blood, sweat and tears went into that masterpiece,” by the end of his sentence he was grinning again, almost like he knew he was talking out of his ass.

“Uh huh. Sure thing baby.”

Shit.

Deans lips twitch upwards as the intensity of his gaze sparks up something hot before quickly dying out, his posture straightening as he lifts his mug to his mouth again. I kick myself a second time for letting the term of endearment roll off my tongue. I’d never had this issue before - accidentally calling people nicknames or anything of the sort. I’d dated guys who had perfectly reasonable names that I always remembered to call them. Yet Dean… he stood here, in my kitchen after almost a decade and somehow still managed to turn my brain to butter. It was hard to describe, as surely I couldn’t still feel that way for someone who I’d been parted from for so long with not a whisper of their name from anyone's lips but my own. I no longer knew him. Nine years of time and life and experiences will have sculpted Dean and everything that I knew him to be into a totally different person…wouldn’t it? Hell, maybe he’s even got a girlfriend somewhere out there who's waiting for him to return to her, but he’s just been too nice to mention it. That, or I’ve been too selfishly wrapped up in things that used to be us to even think of asking. Perhaps the mushy consistency of my brain was simply another symptom of some so-called ‘muscle memory’, as my current behaviour was always how I’d been around him. Flirty. Playful. Infatuated. Perhaps I simply didn’t know how else to act; how to be normal in his presence because I knew he’s seen every inch of me, both physically and philosophically. He’d seen my ugly days yet he’d still kissed away the turmoil without so much as a second thought. Maybe, just maybe, I needed to reel myself back in - take myself back to before we were star crossed lovers. Before the memories were made and our hearts beat to the same tune. Back when we were just two people who would laugh and joke and stay up late. Perhaps that would make this all easier.

“There’s that name again,” Deans low drawl snapped me from my internal debate, an unreadable expression dawning on his features.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I just- I don’t think my mouth and brain are working together anymore,” I sighed, fighting to keep some sliver of amusement in my voice. 

“Oh yeah?” a smirk appeared on Deans face, that playful glint returning to his eye as he chewed his bottom lip as though having an internal debate of his own. Who knows what side won, but I’m sure some form of sleep depravity was involved with his next few words: “I remember a time when your mouth didn’t need your brain and it worked just fine on its own.” If his aim here was to make me flustered, he’d sure as hell succeeded as heat bloomed across my cheeks and my mouthful of coffee was spat back into my cup with a splutter.

“Dean!”

He released an almost wicked laugh, clearly pleased with himself for my reaction. If he was going to be making comments like that on a regular basis, it was going to prove extremely difficult for ‘operation: we’re just friends’ to be in full effect. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I’ll stop,” his words were softer yet the edge of amusement was still present.

I scowled at him with as much venom as a fucking wetwipe, my own amused grin straining at my lips.

“You better,” I jabbed a finger into his chest before placing my half empty coffee mug on the counter, turning away from him to rummage through the kitchen cupboards. I turned back around a moment later and thrust four bowls in his hands along with four spoons and two large cereal boxes.

“Put these on the table before you say anything else that might cause me to choke on my coffee.”

I watched a choking innuendo pass right before his eyes yet he bit his tongue and pursed his lips, taking a moment before his eyebrows rose slightly.

“Were you always this bossy?”

“I’m not bossy, I just have a child who needs to be fed. Now, table,” I pointed to the items in his arms before pointing to their designated destination.

“You could at least say ‘please’,” his tone was growing taunting and it drew a sigh from my chest.

“Fine. Can you put those things on the table, please.”

“Hmm… I don’t feel like you meant that, it felt a little… I don't know… hostile?” The grin was now in full effect.

“DEAN.”

“Ok! I’m going!” he turned and did as I asked, finally setting the table for all four of us. 

Breakfast passed by with so much ease it was as though we’d done it every day of our lives. Sam and Levi continued to talk about Guitar Hero whilst Dean listened, chipping in the classic rock trivia where he could. The whole time, I just sat, listened and watched, absorbing everything about this moment in time and doing whatever I could to make this a core memory. I breathed in, telling myself to remember the smell of sugar and coffee in the air, along with the new and unfamiliar masculine undertone of cologne and old leather. I looked around, watching how the golden morning light made their hair and skin glow in shades of amber and white, the small dust particles in the air illuminated like fireflies. The sound of their animated chatter was soft, creating a serene ambiance that was as pleasant on the ears as notes from a music box. Everything about this moment was all I’d dreamt of; from the fully occupied breakfast table to the relaxed atmosphere, and the cherry on the cake was knowing that these men were family. Levis family. He had a dad and an uncle who wanted to cherish him and spend time with him, to make him feel so important and loved that it made up for nearly nine years of absence. I know, deep, deep down that part of this was from them feeling guilty - Dean more so than Sam - yet that was only a small part. Their love and affection for him stemmed from something real and it was so easy to see, so fucking clear on their faces, that it made me want to cry. And that feeling was so fucking strong that I had to excuse myself from the table and freshen up in the bathroom, barely able to utter a word to them as I stepped away.

After taking five and splashing some water on my face I emerged from the bathroom and headed back downstairs. Sam and Levi were back in front of the playstation, this time playing Need for Speed, and Dean remained at the table, another coffee between his palms as he leant forwards, staring into the liquid. He must’ve heard me coming as he looked up with a slightly concerned expression. 

“You ok?” he asked.

“Yeah,” my voice didn’t come out as level as I’d hoped, so I diverted the conversation. “I thought that’d be you over there playing Need for Speed. How come you’re over here glaring at your coffee?”

“Ahh, we’ve been up for a while and I spent about an hour on Guitar Hero with Levi before you came down. Plus…” the small smile on his lips that appeared when he looked over at his son was now directed towards me, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Uh oh, I hate it when sentences start like that.”

“No, it’s nothing bad. I just…uhhh… well, last night when we were talking, you said something that I can’t stop thinking about,” despite his calm expression, his knuckles were starting to turn white around his cup.

“I said a lot of things last night, Dean, you’re going to ha-”

“Let me take you out.”

“What?” 

“Let me take you out,” he repeated, but this time softer and slower, “you said last night that you never get to go out for drinks anymore and that you’ve had some pretty shit dates,” we both grimaced slightly at the thought of that. “ Well… I’m here. Let me take you out. Levi is at a sleepover tonight so you have nothing to worry about where he’s concerned,” he took a deep breath and reached across the table to place his hand, warm and large, over mine. “Let me do something nice for you, like you deserve.” There was a pause as silence settled between us for a moment. He wanted to take me out. Like, a date, or just as old friends, or as co-parents…? I had no idea what his angle was on this. Did he want to have sex? Was that it? Was he just trying to get his dick wet? Old Dean would occasionally pull those tricks with me, though they were usually few and far between, but would the new Dean do that? Was it even a low bar thing to do? Maybe it’s a pity date, and he’s only taking me out because I’ve been so incapable of being able to replace him with someone who is better - who probably doesn’t even exist - that he’s now just feeling sorry for me. Why, oh why the ever living fuck am I even over analysing this? Dean wanted to take me for drinks so why should I care what his motive is. This is a fucking opportunity for me to relax and let loose a little. To not be mom for a few hours. To be me. And why should I care if he wants to fuck me? I should be flattered, right? That he possibly still finds me attractive? And I can’t deny that it’s been a while since I’ve had half decent sex - or any sex at all for this matter. 

“Yes,” I blurted, perhaps a little aggressively. 

“Yes?” he smiles again, that easy, contagious smile, “you’ll let me take you on a date?”

“So it is a date?” I couldn’t help but mirror his grin, adding my own amused tone.

“Wasn’t that obvious?”

“Well, no, you said you’d ‘take me out’. That could mean anything. You could’ve meant with a fucking gun.”

Dean erupted into laughter, shaking his head. That laugh. I remember likening it to a favourite song that was so easy to put on repeat. It was addictive.

“Ok, so I’m not taking you out with a gun. I’m taking you out on a date. Have I dumbed it down enough for ya’ know?”

“If you were any clearer you’d be transparent,” I said, my tone bordering on mocking. 

“Great, well, me and Sammy have a few loose ends to tie up from this case we’re on, so we need to head out soon. We’ll be back by the evening though, soooo…. Be ready for six?”

I nodded eagerly, watching as he stood from the table. The sight of him in the henley - plaid bottoms combo makes me want to have a cozy day indoors, watching nothing but scary movies and scarfing down popcorn and cookie dough. The sigh I heave from my lungs was totally involuntary. 

“Yeah,” I smile, “six is perfect.”

Kat and Toby arrived at the house around noon. Whilst the boys race upstairs to get on with God-knows-what, Kat strides in with a knowing smirk when she clocks the duffle bags that are clearly not mine beside the couch, along with the lingering aroma that's distinctly masculine intertwining with the pumpkin spice from my scented candles. As I studied her face for all but a few seconds, I braced myself for the flurry of questions that I knew were buzzing around her mind.

“Sooooo…” her tone was already amused as she flopped down onto the couch. “Anything you need to tell me?”

“What? Who do you think I am?” I scoff at her words, yet my pulse quickens at the thought of telling her about my plans for tonight. 

“I think you're a woman still in love with her childhood sweetheart and that he's already sweeping you off your feet.”

“I am not still in love with him. I can't possibly be in love with someone I've not seen for almost a decade.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Bitch, don't ‘mmm hmm’ me. I'm not in love with Dean.”

“Would you fuck him?”

“God yes.”

“So you're keeping him around for the possibility of good dick?”

I threw myself down beside her on the couch, pulling a throw cushion into my lap.

“No, that is so not true. I can't believe you'd think me so shallow,” I held my hand to my chest in mock devastation. She hummed again.

“Didn't you do that to what's-his-face?”

“Who?”

“The guy you dated about a year ago, drove around in that Mustang?”

“Oh shit yeah! I think his name was Chad? Or maybe Brad…? Ok yeah, I did kinda keep him around for his dick… and his car. That car was awesome.”

“You shallow, shallow bitch.”

I threw the cushion which hit her square in the face, likely leaving a print of her lipstick behind on the soft fabric.

“But that was just some dude that was only with me so he could fucking tick ‘banged a milf’ off his bucket list. This is Dean I'm talking about. He's… well… he's Dean. And he's not here for me. He's here for Levi. Don't blame a man for wanting to stick around when he's just found out he's got a kid,” I gave her a look that said ‘I fucking love you but please can we drop this now’, and she did, one final hum moving past her lips. We stared at each other for a moment, her expression one of a studious nature and mine one of feigned innocence. This woman could read me like a book, and I both simultaneously loved and hated it. I loved it, because when something went wrong, and quite often in my life things did, she just knew. She knew to be at mine that same evening with a bottle of red and a bucket of popcorn, pyjamas on and the boys asleep upstairs. This woman had slept in my bed more times than any man as we continued to have sleepovers like teenagers well into our twenties. Alcoholic sleepovers. Yet I hated how she read me like a book, because like right now, if I was in denial about anything or for some absurd reason trying to keep a secret, she would just know. She was like a fucking mind reader. I chuckled inwardly at the thought of that being true. Maybe Dean should scan her with his Walkman and freak her out. Maybe then she'd get off my case about me still being in love with him. I'm not in love with him. 

“You still aren't telling me something,” her voice was even, the amusement fading slightly as she stared at me, waiting for me to stop beating around the bush. Under the heat of her stare I caved, sighing and slumping even further into the soft cushions behind me.

“He's taking me out…on a date.”

“I FUCKING knew it!”

“What?! How would you know that?!” I almost jumped as she flew forward in her seat, the gleam back in her eyes as she grinned like the Cheshire Cat.

“I didn't know that exactly, but bitch I knew you were hiding something juicy!”

“It's not juicy! It's casual - just drinks. I’m gonna wear jeans.”

“Oh yeah, because flaunting the curvature of ones ass makes it casual…”

“Aren’t you here to collect my kid or something?” I launch into my last resort to end this hellish interrogation - which involved kicking her out.

“Babes you can kick me out of your house but you can’t ignore this,” she stood slowly, her ‘all-knowing’ expression un-faltering. 

“Kat, it’s only day two of him being here! You are getting way ahead of yourself,” I stood with her, shaking my head. 

“Two days plus the whole freakin’ year you were dating. That man is not a stranger to you. Hell, you’ve probably had that coc-”

“THANK YOU, Kat! I love you, you are the yin to my fucking yang but please for the love of CHRIST - shut up!”

Her expression finally cracked and she practically cackled at my discomfort, making her way to the stairs to get the boys.

“Bitch, if I don’t get details about tonight then -”

“Ok I’ll tell you! But seriously, don’t read into it too much, it’s just drinks.”

She strutted to the bottom of the stairs before ascending, calling over her shoulder; “Sure, whatever you say honey!”

It took longer than I'd have hoped, but Kat eventually left with the boys for the remainder of the day. As soon as they'd left the building, it was like I could breathe again - like the house could breathe again. It was a rare occasion for me to have the place to myself for five minutes, let alone a whole twenty four hours. It was like I could finally hear my own thoughts again after the busy breakfast and Kat's dire interrogation. The silence was bliss. It was pure bliss as I made myself a coffee and settled comfortably on the couch, taking a moment to myself. It was blissful right up until my own thoughts started banging at the door in the back of my mind. Thoughts about Dean, and his motives and my motives. Suddenly my relaxing afternoon to myself was quickly becoming a caged-in trap for my internal thoughts to run wild, the drums of possibilities sounding in the far reaches of my brain, beating faster and faster the closer they drew. Almost as quickly as I'd sat down, I jumped up and headed to the store cupboard under the stairs. One thing that could distract me was cleaning, so that's exactly what I was going to do. 

I blitzed the house from top to bottom, hoovering, mopping, cleaning mirrors and windows, dusting and evening folding the pile of laundry that was starting to become part of the furniture. Much to my dismay, that only took up two hours of my time, so I was left with the only other task that I hate more than folding hundreds of small human sized pieces of fabric. Grocery shopping. 

After a manic stock take of the fridge, cupboards and pantry, I made a list, grabbed my bag, threw on my jacket and headed out.

I'd been shopping around the small town convenience store for around twenty minutes, browsing the aisles and throwing everything - plus some extras - from my list into the aggravatingly wonky trolley. I hated grocery shopping with a passion - the constant beeping from the checkouts, the passive aggressive road rage between trolley users, and the dozens of obscenely slow browsers frustrated me beyond belief. I was normally able to push it to a big haul every two weeks, but with the prospect of Sam and Dean staying a while, it was a safe bet to fill the house to the brim with snacks and meals alike. With the lifestyle that those two lived, I can't imagine that they're overly fussy eaters, and I have a hunch that Dean still loves turkey dinosaurs.

The cereal aisle wasn't supposed to be an eventful place - deciding between Cookie Crisp and Cinnamon Squares should be the highlight of this venture. However as my luck would have it, it became eventful.

“Oh hi! (Y/n)!”

I looked up from my crumpled list and was greeted with three faces that I recognised but not to the point of acquaintanceship.

“Uhh, hi? Can I help you?” 

“I just wanted to say that it's so great to finally see that Levi's father is around. It's just so important, isn't it? For a boy to have that male role model,” the first woman spoke; her peroxide blonde hair looked so overbleached it may as well have been straw on her head, and it almost distracted me from her painfully patronising voice.

“Excuse me? Do I know you?” My voice started to take on a defensive edge as my palms immediately grew sweaty, this situation already making me uncomfortable. 

She laughed, looking over at her friend's like I'd asked some stupid fucking question. 

“Our son's go to the same school - you should really know this.”

“Well, if our sons aren't friends, then why would I need to?” 

She took a deep breath. 

“I just think it's funny how someone like you managed to get someone like… what's his name… Dean? Isn't he a little out of your league?”

My pulse thrummed as my frustration grew with the sudden, unsolicited and blatant attack. How the fuck did they know Deans name? Someone must've overheard us at Jolenes'... or maybe at the track? And what the fuck did she mean by ‘out of my league’? If she was insinuating what I thought she was, then she's going to need to head over to the fucking freezer aisle real freaking soon.

“Excuse me?” 

She smirked, knowing she was sinking her plastic fucking talons into my skin already.

“Oh I think you heard me. Does Dean know? That you trapped him? When you got pregnant on purpose at nineteen?”

My blood began to boil as I white knuckled the handle of the trolley to stop myself from punching her square between the eyes.

“Fuck you; I didn't ‘trap him’. Is that really what you cliquey bitches think?” I was equal parts furious and heartbroken. Furious, because how fucking dare they assume that just because Dean is a God tier DILf that I fooled him into getting me pregnant all those years ago. And heartbroken because, well, is that really what the people in this town thought of me? If these women thought that, then who's to say half the town don't think the same? Or maybe more - maybe it's the whole freaking town with Kat being the only exception, and I've been living so cocooned in my own bubble that it never even occurred to me. But Dean has barely even been here a day, so I can’t exactly blame myself for being so wrapped up in my own life with everything going on. How can people form such strong opinions so quickly when they don’t even know the whole story? My story with Dean. Not theirs. They’ve somehow managed to put two and two together to come up with negative fucking ten, and I’ll be damned if I let them drag our names through the mud.

“Oh honey, we know that you tricked him. A man like that, with that face and physique would never have chosen you willingly, right? I mean, you really don’t look his type.”

“Oh, and you do? Because you know Dean so well?”

“That’s enough!” We were caught off guard by the oldest of the three, a woman perhaps in her fifties, snapping in a clipped tone. “Michelle, that’s quite enough, you’re taking this too far now. And you,” she turned to me with a stern gaze, “that man looks like trouble. We don’t like those sorts around here; you tell him to behave himself.” My anger and frustration was quickly melting into straight up irritation.

“Look, lady-”

“Karen.”

“Sure, ok… look, Deans a grown ass man, he can do whatever the fuck he likes - he’s here on a job. I’m not telling him to do shit.”

“Language! Such a foul mouth-”

“Is he single?” our heads quickly snapped to the third woman of the group - younger than the other two but still a little older than myself. She was a near double of the blonde from the hair to the clothes to the claws, yet she seemed to lack the spite.

“What?” yet another question that caught me off guard. What the fuck is wrong with these women?

“Dean, is he single? I mean, I’ve not seen him, but from how you describe him, he seems hot,” she twirled a lock of hair around her finger like a school girl despite likely being in her thirties.

“Hannah you’re married,” Karen chimed in with obvious disgust. 

That was it, the last fucking straw. I’d had enough of the ambush from three women that I barely even knew. I adjusted my grip on the trolley and quickly planned my escape route, spotting an opening in the crowd to the side. I gritted my teeth and steeled my gaze, the bitter taste of disgust, fury, and disappointment coating my tongue as I all but spat my words.

“This has been a riveting conversation, truely, but I’m leaving. Now,” and with that I hastily left them behind, finishing my shopping with the dark cloud of judgement looming over me. 

The urge to cry hot, angry tears in the car on the ride home was a battle I didn't want to fight. The intensity of the emotions brewing in the pit of my stomach and bubbling into my chest was so strong, so consuming that I didn't even realise I was pulling into my own driveway, having completed the short journey on what I like to call ‘blackout autopilot’. One tear was shed over the shitshow, and in my opinion, that was one tear too many. I was annoyed at myself with having let it get to me so much, knowing I'd grown thicker skin than this. It wasn't the first time I'd been confronted, like a fucking black sheep in a blindingly white flock, yet for some reason, this got to me. At this point, I was drained from even thinking about it, so I grabbed the groceries, making several trips to get them all in the house, put away the fridge and freezer items and left the rest on the counter to deal with later. Right now, I needed a large glass of wine and something to distract myself with. So I decided on the only thing I had going for me at this point in time.

Time to pick an outfit for tonight.

My bedroom was a modest size and the king-size bed practically consumed the room. I had a large, sliding mirrored-door wardrobe that was built into the structure of the room which I flung open and started to rummage through as soon as I made it upstairs.

I'd told myself - and Kat - that it was casual. Dean had implied it, so this shouldn't be too hard to find something nice to wear.

Wrong.

I must've spent the best part of an hour trying on dozens of different tops with my only pair of ‘nice’ jeans - those ones that hugged my ass and thighs just right. I tried long sleeves, short sleeves, chiffon, cotton, satin, opaque, obscenely translucent, bright, monochrome and in all honesty, I felt inadequate in every single one. I'd never really been one to feel overly self conscious of how I looked, but for some absurd reason, this date with Dean was making me flustered. It had me worried that he wouldn’t like how I looked, especially since I’d had Levi and my body had changed in a way that he didn’t know just yet. 

Just yet. 

I cursed myself slightly, shaking that idea from my head. Yes, I’ve had plenty of time to try and get myself back to normal, but some things just weren't the same anymore, and probably never would be. I hated the fact that I was even stressed about this. The safest option was to just go for something comfortable, so I donned a stretchy, low-cut and long sleeved black top and slid on a pair of black closed-toe heels before sitting down at my dresser. 

I’d just opened my makeup bag when I heard the door downstairs open and close, quickly followed by the oddly comforting sounds of Sam and Deans voices floating through the house and up the stairs. I turned to myself in the mirror, sighing at the tired looking woman staring back at me. Get your shit together, (Y/n), Dean is taking you on a date. I grasped my over-sharpened eyeliner pencil that was likely no longer than an inch in length and got to work. I suddenly flinched and nearly poked myself in the eye when Dean appeared in my bedroom doorway.

“Jesus, Dean! You scared the crap out of me - I didn’t even hear you come up the stairs.”

He grinned slightly as he leant against the wooden frame, large arms crossing over his chest. 

“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to…” his voice trailed off and I could feel his eyes on me, as though he was searching for something. A few moments went by in silence, and right as I was about to turn to him, he spoke.

“Hey, are you ok?” His voice was dangerously soft, and concerned in a way that could easily have me weeping in his arms. Because of the shitty afternoon I’d had, I feel like it wouldn’t take much kindness from him to have me crumble - no matter how much I’d hate myself for it afterwards. Instead, I pushed everything down as best as I could and turned to him with a weak smile.

“Yeah, I’m ok. I’ve had a bit of a weird, shitty afternoon but I won’t ruin your evening with it.” At my words he pulled a face, his own words quickly following.

“It’s your evening. And if there’s something eating at you, you know you can talk to me. Just like you used to,” his smile was back, warm and comforting and like a balm over a burn. I looked back at myself in the mirror for a moment, debating if it was even worth talking about. If it was anyone but Dean, I wouldn’t hesitate to keep this to myself. But it was Dean, and I hated to say it, but he was always good at dealing with me when I was like this in the past. I turned to him and let his calming presence seep into my bones, desperately trying to take it on myself.

“Ok,” I said quietly, “I’ll tell you at the bar. But I don’t want to make a big deal out of it, and I don’t want to talk about it all evening,” He nodded.

“Whatever you need sweetheart,” he stood up straight and said something about getting ready himself before he left the room, leaving me to finish up before finally heading downstairs. 

It was roughly another fifteen minutes before I made my way down; Dean already waiting for me in the archway to the kitchen. He looked up as he heard me coming, eyes brightening when he grinned at me.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” his voice was smooth and deep, a flirtatious undertone rumbling in his chest. 

“Not so bad yourself Winchester,” I walked up to stand in front of him, almost toe-to-toe. I looked him over, taking in the black shirt he wore, untucked and paired his jeans. The boots and brown leather jacket remained the same, yet I could see the damp patches on both from where he’d scrubbed either mud or blood from the fabric - perhaps both. It wouldn’t be the first time. I took a deep breath, my pulse quickening as his scent filled my senses. 

“Have you eaten yet?” he asked, removing a hand from his pocket and let it hang awkwardly at his side. I shook my head. 

“Not yet, I sometimes forget to eat when Levi isn’t around.” Dean shot me a look that could have been both concerned or protective.

“Ok, well I’m taking you for dinner too then.”

“What? No Dean, you really don’t have t-”

“Don’t argue with me sweetheart, I'm fucking feeding you,” his tone was final, leaving no room for negotiation so I sighed in defeat. 

“Fine, but we’re not going anywhere expensive.”

His smirk widened across his face as he continued to look down at me, finally placing that awkwardly hanging hand on the small of my back, guiding me to the door. He shouted a ‘goodbye’ to Sam over his shoulder and, without really waiting for a reply, he ushered me out of the house and towards the car, locking up behind us. I walked up to the black vehicle, the excitement starting to bubble at the thought of going for a ride in her again after all this time. As Dean walked up to me, he opened the passenger side door, letting me hop in first. I took my seat, quickly dumping my bag and jacket in the footwell so I could softly run my fingertips over the perfectly maintained leather seats, noticing how not a thing had changed - not even the box of cassettes on the back seat. As Dean slid into the drivers seat, his expression something akin to pride, he couldn’t help but comment on my reaction to being back in the impala.

“I bet you missed Baby more than you missed me,” he joked, turning the key and letting the engine roar into life. I bit my lip, leaning back in my seat.

“I missed you both equally,” the humorous tone came easily, my earlier worries already started to feel insignificant as they slipped away with every tick of the engine.

“Equally?” he echoed, feigning hurt, “you don’t even prefer me just a little bit more?”

I pretended to ponder intently, holding a finger to my lips as I crossed my arms over my chest. An obnoxious string of ‘hmmms’ slipped through my lips before I saw him roll his eyes, still grinning.

“Yeah, I guess I do. Especially since you're taking me on a date,” my own words made my heart flutter and luckily he'd moved his gaze from me to the road as he pulled out of my drive. My face felt warm and I cursed at myself for being so easily affected by him already, entranced by the way those long fingers wrapped around the steering wheel and the muscles in his jaw flexed under the glow of the passing street lamps. I couldn't deny that he was still painfully attractive, even after all this time. If I was being honest with myself, he was making it incredibly difficult to concentrate on much else right now. If drinks were soon to be involved, there was a very high chance of me making a total ass of myself in front of him.

Tonight was likely going to be one to remember.

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[bandgie]

Ghost in the Night

Ghostface!Jeongin x fem!reader

AU 1 | AU 2

synopsis: Keep your doors locks, shut your windows, don't go outside after sundown. Rules were quickly put in place when a killer, known as 'Ghostface,' began terrorizing your city. You listened to all these rules until finals night, but still, there's no way in hell Ghostface could get to you. Right?

warnings: MDNI 18+, DUBCON/NONCON, breaking an entry, implied kidnapping, PIV, forced oral (m! receiving), face slapping, blood/murder, face fucking, slight pain during sex (no prep) crying/begging, cumming inside, degrading words (slut, bitch, etc), not proofread,

4.1k words shheesshhh

Another college student was found dead. Their throat slashed along with their stomach. The police found them in their apartment with the words 'COME FIND ME' smeared on the walls with blood. The story along made you queasy. This killer, who the town nicknamed Ghostface, has been on a spree for about two weeks now. It really happened out of the blue. One day, you're attending college parties, and the next, you're too scared to even shop for necessities.

Rumors began to speculate about who it could be. Many people thought it was the rival university, some thought it was the son of the dean who couldn't get into the school, most thought it was just a psycho. The question remained though, why did Ghostface only go after college students?

Your friends dropped out of college upon hearing the news. They urged you to do the same, but you were so close to graduating that you decided to push through. After all, most of the students attacked were sorority or frats, you weren't either of them. If you kept your head down, didn't attend the stupid parties students kept throwing because they liked the thrill, you would be fine.

So here you were, on the second floor of the library late at night. You're thankful your library had open hours until midnight, it was great for last minute studying. The librarian was very friendly, even offering to drive you home. "I hear about what's been happening," she tells you as she rubs her trails hands.

You shake your head, "Thank you for your concern. I really don't wanna waste your time, I'll be fine." She eyes you cautiously, as if hoping you'd second guess yourself and take her offer. When you don't, she sighs. "Fine, deary. You be safe out there." You nod your head and watch her descend back to her from post.

-

A few hours pass before you decide to head home, your brain fried from all the studying. You wave the librarian a goodbye and exit the doors, greeted with the moon and stars in the sky. Had there not been a killer loose, you would have loved to admire the view. It's a blood moon tonight, and you pray that it's a good omen.

While walking back to your dorm, you couldn't help but hear music blasting. You pass one of the frat dorms, watching as people passed out in the front lawns and other vomiting. You grimaced at the sight. How could they party like this when people were being brutally murdered? You ignored their hollers and whistles to continue on your path.

"Hey!" One of them shouts at you. You ignore it, walking faster to get to your safe place. "Hey! I'm calling you!" Still, you maintain your pace. If you keep walking fast enough, you'll be able to-

"Damn girl! I'm tryna talk to you," the guy had caught up to you. He held you by your upper arms stinking of booze. You turned to face him in an attempt to intimidate him, "I'm not interested." You try your best to sneer, but he only laughs. "Never said I wanted you to be. I was just gonna say you shouldn't be walking all alone." His ominous statement send chills down your spine.

"I appreciate you tryna be my hero, but like I said, I'm not interested." You sternness throws him off, and he quickly lets go of your arm. "Bitch," he mumbles, "I was just tryna help." You don't bother replying, quickly turning around to escape his presence. You can't trust anyone, you can't take your chances.

You make a sharp turn, hoping that you're out of his sight. It doesn't take long to hear the familiar steps behind you. Rather than ignoring him this time, you turn around quickly to confront him. "Didn't you fucking hear me? I said-" You stop yourself. You were fully excepting to see his drunk ass behind you, but instead your faced with nothing.

You shiver, whipping back around to scurry home. It was just the wind, you think. You can feel your heartbeat in your chest, feel the blood that pumps in your veins. No no no, calm down. You're fine. There's nothing here. Even while you try to relax your heartbeat, you start hearing the footsteps again.

Too scared to turn around, you run. Maybe there's nothing behind you at all. Maybe you're running like a manic only scaring yourself more. It doesn't matter though, you're filled with too much fear to think rationally.

Another turn, and you can see your dorm complex in the distance. You stop running as fast, convinced that you're just overreacting. You do keep a fast walk though, still unsure if you could really walk so carelessly. Your gaze is up in the sky, watching how the moon gets bigger and bigger.

The sky provides a good amount of light as you finally make your way to the front door as your house. You reach for your keys only to see that your front door is already open. Your eyebrows raise, unsure if your roommate just got home and forgot to close the door. You push it open, taking a peek. The lights are off and it's quiet. Perhaps they just forgot and went to sleep.

You walk in and flick on the light, setting your bag down. It's not until your eyes are better adjusted in the lighting that you see your roommate. She's hunched over, limp on the couch as if she was waiting for you. You gasp at her, jumping slightly.

"Oh my god!" You breathe. "Jesus Christ you scared the shit outta me." You take steps towards her waiting for her response. There is none. "Hey, girl you good?" You reach out to grasp her shoulder and the little contact makes her fall on the ground. It's then that you see the blood that pool on the couch, how easily her head lolls to the side.

You fall to the ground with her, flipping her around to see a giant slash across her neck. Her eyes are wide with fear, her mouth open as if she was screaming. You can't help but try to shake her despite it being in vain, tears falling down your face. You're so caught up in your mourning that you don't hear the footsteps that come towards you.

A shadow hovers over you, and you turn around to see the familiar descriptions you've seen in the news. A black cloak, gloved hands, a white mask with a permanent open mouth. You cry even harder upon the sight. A part of you doesn't think it's real, that it's all just a sick dream you're having. Even as the killer kneels down towards you to stare at your face, you pray it's just a nightmare.

"I had to come pretty quick, you were almost home," it speaks. You don't really register what he's saying. He straightens back up, "You know, I also killed that dude back there that grabbed you. Guys like that piss me off. They have no respect for personal space ya know what I mean?" Perhaps he said that as a joke, considering this man literally killed your roommate mere moments ago.

"Please," your voice is horse and thick with emotion. "I don't want-want to die." You start sobbing, bloody hands cradling your face in an attempt to comfort yourself. The masked man cocks his head to side, seemingly intrigued by your cries. "You think I'm gonna kill you?" He doesn't wait for an answer, yanking your head up by your hair. You whimper and nod, vision blurry with tears.

You try begging more, but all that comes out are garbles sentences and pathetic wails. Ghostface is rather enjoying the show, smiling behind his mask. "You've got a good crying face. Keep begging," his grip tightens on your hair. You do, and honestly he didn't even need to ask. In the midst of your sobs, you can feel the cold edge of something sharp against your throat. You feel it slowly dig into your neck, but not hard enough to break the skin.

The contact makes you freeze up, eyes wide with absolute terror. Ghostface literally moans at the sight. "Fuck, I love that look." He makes the knife dances around your neck, staring at how your pupils dilate. Pleasurable shivers travel his body, and he can feel the blood traveling to his cock. Killing you now would be a waste, he should at least have some fun first.

He removes the knife from your neck throws it across the room. You jump at the clattering noise, almost missing how he uses his now free hand to yank his pants down. On your knees, your face-to-dick with his half hard on. You almost throw up at the realization, eyes staring into the masks eyes pleading.

He shoves his crotch closer to your face, smearing his cock on your face. You keep your mouth closed, determined to keep your dignity intact. Ghostface doesn't like this, and pulls your hair back so hard you think you'll go bald. "You think this is a fucking game?" He forces you to look at him while he speaks. "You wanna end up like your bitch roommate? Huh?" You shake your head as you sob.

"That's what I fuckin' thought, get to work slut."

You don't think you can manage to even keep your mouth open with how violently your sobbing, but Ghostface doesn't wait for you to open up all the way. He quickly shoves his half hard in your mouth. You wrap your lips around it, trying your best not to gag. A part of you thinks about biting down on him, and he must see a glint in your eyes because he yanks your face off him.

The force of his pull makes you cry out, but he responds by slapping you hard across the face with his free hand. Pain surges in your face, and you can't help the continuous tears that fall. "If you fucking bite me, I'll make you choke on your own insides," he threatens. If it wasn't for the corpse of your roommate mere feet away, you would still believe him because of the look in his eye.

"I won't!" You speak through your cries. "I promise I promise just please don't hurt me." Ghostface smiles under his mask, giving your cheeks three more light slaps before shoving your face back on his cock. Determined to prove your life is worthy, you stick your tongue out to lick his underside. You can tell he surprised by the way his breath hitches.

You let your lips run over his length along with your tongue. Salvia quickly begins to pool in your mouth, and you spit on his dick. You carefully reach your hands up, scared that he might slap you again. You can tell he's watching with judgement as you grab the base of his cock with one of your hands. Your other one steads on your thigh as you let your mouth fall open.

Working in one fluid motion, you bob your head to the speed of your hand. His cock is smooth, save for the pulsating of his veins. He's completely hard now, and it's pretty difficult to get more than half his girth between your lips. Your hands become sticky with precum and spit. You can feel how your drool dibbles down your cheeks as you continue to take him in your mouth.

Now there's two hands in your hair, and he's started pull you closer and closer to him. A particular thrust of his hips has you gagging, nearly coughing his cock out. He doesn't let you pull him out, instead forcing you to keep a couple inches in. You're making noises that both sound like moaning and suffocating, and it turns him on a lot more than he'd like to admit.

Watching you try your best to suck his cock like your life depends on it makes him feel alive because, well, your life does depend on it. You doe eyes wide with fear and concentration amuses him, makes him feel almost bad for the fact that he's still going to kill you when you're done. Not to mention your lips, how swollen and red they are from pleasuring him.

A part of him wishes he could take his mask off, make you look him in the eyes rather than his mask. The clear view could possible make him cum quickly in your mouth. Instead, Ghostface makes do with your current state. You're dripping in him and your own liquids, hands feverishly moving easily in the slobber.

All you and him can hear are your choked sobs, wet sucking, and the occasional movement of his hips hitting your face. To both of your shock, you find yourself getting aroused by his cock in your mouth. The fear in your stomach slowly begins to bubble into desire. Your panties getting slightly damp. You can't stop yourself as you clench you thighs together to get some friction.

You try to convince yourself that it's normal to get like this in a life or death situation. There's been cases of people's brain getting so scared that it gets sexually stimulated. You pray that this is the case now because you're starting to think how pretty this man's moans is. He sounds breathy, needy, desperate. Like he hasn't gotten much action in a while, or at least not to this extent.

A self-defense mechanism, you try to tell yourself as your pussy begins to seep through your underwear.

Ghostface suddenly thrusts his hips into your face, his cock hitting your throat deep. You throat contracts around him, and the pressure has him pulsing. You think you might suffocate with how he just keep shoving his dick into your mouth without caring how you claw at his thighs. Then he moans, almost sings his groans as he shoots his cum down your throat.

If you thought you were suffocating then, you must be dying now. His hot cum chokes you and slightly trickles down your chin. Your wide eyes have now rolled to the back of your head, and your chest began burning from lack of oxygen. Perhaps this is how you go out, dead by dick.

Just before you can feel yourself lose consciousness, he pulls away. You gasp and cough for air, hands grabbing your throat. Ghostface takes a few steps back as if he was surprised by his own orgasm. You heave, lungs burning from the intake of fresh air. Before you have the chance to fully recover, he pulls you up by the back of you head and harshly throws you on the couch. You hate how your shirt begins to grow damp with your roommate's blood, but you try to persuade yourself that it's just sweat.

Ghostface is between your legs in a matter of seconds, lifting up your skirt to expose your underwear.

You're still trying to catch your breath as your hands aimlessly attempt to push him off. You hear him snicker, gripping your thighs tightly to pull them apart. He sighs dreamily, "You're so wet baby. I can't tell if you're that turned on from sucking my cock or if you're so scared you pissed yourself."

Shame overtakes you, and you fight even harder to push him away. He only laughs at your attempts, releasing you for just a second to wrap his hands around his throat. Your finger try to pry him off, but all he does it squeeze harder. You can feel your face turning read, the familiar sensation of suffocating returning.

"I thought you would have learned to be nicer to me by now," he tsks. "Be a good girl and let me fuck you. I would rather like to fuck this pussy warm and alive." You can't verbally answer him since he's crushing your windpipe, so you meekly nod. He released your throat just before your vision went fully dark.

His gloves hands trail over your body, cupping at your breasts before continuing on their way down. You're scared that moving would make you faint, so you stay still as he explores your body. You can feel the warmth of his hands through the latex. How strong his fingers are as they reopen your legs. He rubs a thumb on your clothed pussy, keeping on hand on your abdomen.

Then, he does something even he knows he shouldn't do; Takes off his mask. If you weren't so oxygen-deprived, you could probably see his clearly. All you can make out is his dark hair, thick eyebrows, full lips. His specific features are a little hazy, but you can see enough to know that despite your better judgment, he's not bad looking at all.

He throws the mask onto your face, blocking your vision. "Don't take it off," he commands. "Take that mask off and I'll rip your throat out with my hands." You nod as shivers run down your body, "I won't." Those are all the words he needs to heat before moving your under to the side. The sight of your aroused clit has his breath caught in his throat, he's never seen anything as beautiful.

"Oh baby," he practically moans. His fingers feel a little uncomfortable as he plays with your lower lips, but it's not painful. He smears your wetness all over your pussy and thighs. Ghostface is amazed at how much your pussy was drooling for him. Maybe you're sick too, just like him.

Your cunt feels cold when he withdraws his hand from you, and your body reactively chases his touch. You hate how you hear him chuckle at your actions. He takes his finger and shoves it into his mouth, curious about your taste. You can't see too clear, but from the way his eyebrows go up, he likes what he ate.

"I'd kill to eat your pussy," he compliments. "Don't have the time to though, maybe next time."

No prep, no lube, just this man precisely angling his cock to your soppy entrance. You're whimpering quietly, little sounds as if to say please don't when it only entices him more. He lets out a soft groan when his tip enters your soft walls. You try to close your legs, but now with two hands gripping the back of your thighs, you really don't have a choice.

He pushes in, and you use both your hand to cover your mouth. He has more length than girth, so it feels never ending as he slides in. It's slightly painful at first, but you find yourself feeling satisfying full. Your assaulter can't fit himself all the way since you're too tight, but it's enough for him to rock his hips.

There's no warm up to his strokes, and your thrown in forced pleasure all too quickly. The feeling of his sliding in and out, how he manages to get deeper and deeper each time, the bruising grip on your thighs. Now you're covering your mouth to suppress your moans rather than cries. Even though, he can still hear how you squeak and groan as he pounds into you.

He watches as your breasts bounce from underneath your shirt, the way your body completely shifts every time he thrusts into you. You can say you want him to stop all you want, but he can feel how inviting your pussy has gotten. Almost begging in to stay inside, to pump you full of his cum.

Now he meets you at the hilt, his pelvis slapping against your ass. It's getting hard to breath under his mesh mask, but you don't dare to take it off. You should be ashamed with how you look up at him, practically admiring his expressions and how he groans. From what you can see, his mouth is fallen open as he moans carelessly. Like he didn't just make you take his cock, like he didn't just kill your roommate without remorse.

The pain is completely gone, and you find yourself wondering how you could have been in pain to begin with. He's so good with his cock, like he knows where in your cunt you like it. His hands stay at your thighs, but you wish he could use his gloves fingers to rub your clit. You might've been gripping his by his broad shoulders if you weren't too busy quieting yourself.

Even without the stimulation on your lower lips, you can feel your stomach tightening. The warm orgasm slowly collecting in your abdomen. You let your legs fall open even more, eager for him to drive deeper into you. He accepts happily, laughing maniacally. "God fuck, I knew you were a fucking slut. Putting your nose in a book, acting like a good little girl when you're just as sick as me."

'W-What?" You can't stop from questioning him. Has he been watching you this whole time?

You don't think he's going to answer you with how hard he's driving his hips into you, but he does. "The library. You- ngh fuck!- rather be a fucking loser than party. That scared of me huh?" He cackles. "So scared that you take my fat cock." He stops talking for a few beats to focus on fucking you.

"Aw shit, I'm gonna cum inside you." A statement, not a request. His thrusts become sloppy, aggressive. You cam feel his tip in your throat with how deep he is, and you lose your composure. One of your hands whisk down to rub your aching clit. The movement startles him for a second, but then he smiles once he realizes.

You're despicable. You should feel huge amounts of disgrace as you finish on his cock, but you don't. Instead you feel bliss with your walls squeezing around him. The sudden pressure of your pussy makes him whimper, then cum right after. He's so warm, so lively that you forget that he's a serial killer.

He gives you a few more deep strokes to ride out his high, making you tremble. Your legs shake as he slowly pulls out, but his grip on your legs in firm. He watches as his and your cum oozes out, like blood from a gash. He moans at the sight, feeling his softening cock twitch.

You're breathing heavily under him, still whimpering from the aftershocks. The post nut has not hit yet, and you're tying to relish in his body warmth. If you close your eyes, you can imagine that he's just a hook up. You can tell yourself that you'll get Plan B after this, that you'll take a shower and go to sleep. And when you wake up in the morning, it'll be like nothing happened.

That's not true though, and your fantasy is quickly shut down when his hands wrap around your neck. You gasp at the feeling, your weak hands clawing at his wrists. You both know your fighting is in vain, he was going to kill you regardless of what you did. Tears spring your eyes as you come to terms with your fate. So much for graduating on time.

Maybe it's your tears that have an effect on time. Maybe it's the fact that your pussy is still dripping with him, but Ghostface is having a change of heart. He uses one hand to rip the mask off your face to look into your eyes. It's his favorite part when taking someone's life. Yours though, are not the same. Yes he can see the sadness, the pain, but he can see something he hasn't seen before: Acceptance.

With the mask off, you're able to see his face clearly. He looks like he's thinking with the gentle creases on his forehead. His nose is scrunches and his eyebrows furrowed, and you can't help but think he's..."Cute."

It's the last thing I.N hears you say before you pass out, face turning a purple color. He quickly releases his grip on you, pressing a finger under your chin to feel for a pulse. When he feels it, he sighs in relief. Killing you was on his list since he first saw you weeks ago at the library. You did party, he's seen you before. Yet, watching you turn into a hermit because of him was romantic. He loves having that much power over people, over you.

I.N knows better than to play with his food, but he might make an exception this time. After all, he does have a spare room waiting to be used.

a/n: this took a few days and I feel like I could have done better but here ya go, feeback is appreciated update: au part here!