#and dean is not being a dick anymore finally

[bisexual-birdy]

in honor of jacks birthday i’m gonna go finish the rest of my s13 rewatch

[glorystark]

Empty eyes | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean doesn't take Charlie's death too well and because of the Mark of Cain affecting him, he tells you things that will regret.

Warnings: moc!Dean Winchester, Dean being a dick, minor mentions of injury, swearing, ANGST, major character's death

Pairing: Dean Winchester × reader

Featuring: Sam Winchester

Word count: 2,3k

We watched in agony as Charlie's body, wrapped around a white sheet, burned in the flames. This should never have happened to her kind soul. She died so we could save Dean. I couldn't help but feel guilty; my heart ached because I lost a friend, again. I knew Sam felt the same. We both asked Charlie for help with the Book of the Damned, and we both lied to Dean about the book being destroyed. Now it was too late to make things right. Memories flashed through my eyes, making me tear up. I remembered when she helped us with the Dick situation, or when I taught her some hunter-kind-of-tricks. How happy she was and wouldn't stop thanking me. She didn't deserve this, anyone but her.

“Charlie,�� Sam started, grabbing my and probably Dean's attention. “We are gonna miss you. You're the best.” He stopped when his voice cracked, and now I was sure he felt far worse than me because looking back, he suggested not telling Dean about the Book of the Damned not being destroyed, which I didn't agree with at first. But seeing Dean, my Dean, slowly fade away right in front of my eyes changed my opinion. Maybe it was selfish, me and Sam both were. But we couldn't let Dean become something he fears, a Monster. We couldn't lose another person, another family member, but we didn't realize who we were putting in danger on this path.

“We love you, Charlie, and I'm so sorry,” I said, blinking through tears.

“Shut up,” Dean said coldly, making Sam and me look at him. “You got her killed. You don't get to apologize.” He continued.

“Dean-“ Sam started, but Dean cut him off.

“You too, you two are the reason she is dead,” he said, not taking his eyes off the flames.

“We were trying to help you,” I said, still looking at him.

“I didn't need help,” he said bitterly. "I told you to leave it alone.”

“What were we supposed to do, just watch you die?” Sam asked, not letting me be the only one receiving the cold tone from his older brother.

“The mark isn't gonna kill me.”

“Maybe not, but when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore,” I stated. “Dean, you're all we got. So of course we were gonna fight for you because that's what we do,” I said softly.

“Yeah, she's right, we had a shot-“ Sam was cut off again by Dean.

“Yeah, you had a shot. Charlie is dead.” He finally turned his head to look at me and his brother, who was standing next to me. His dark emerald eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't recognize them. Never have I ever seen him look at me with those eyes. Because no matter how much crap we went through, he always made sure I was fine, and his eyes held nothing but sweetness and, on most occasions, worry. “Nice shot.”

“Are you even listening to me? You think I'm ever gonna forgive myself for that?!” I snapped, not being able to keep my voice down anymore. He is grieving, but so am I. If I could, I would trade places with her.

“You know what I think,” he started, still with the same voice tone. “I think it should be you up there and not her.”

I felt my heart break for the hundredth time today. I parted my lips, not taking my teary eyes off him, which clearly showed how hurt I was. Sam let out a small gasp and widened his eyes after he heard Dean's words, clearly not expecting his brother to go that far.

I knew he blamed me, probably even more than Sam. But knowing that he wanted me dead hurt more than any physical torture I've experienced.

Sam called his name, still shocked after what he heard, but his brother just walked away, breaking my heart more and more.

—————

It has been a week since I lost Charlie, since I lost my Dean. He has been searching for the Stynes ever since but has been having a bit of trouble finding their location. So meanwhile, he went on a few solo hunts. He hasn't said a word to me and to Sam, just a few like ‘buy some beers’ ‘did you find anything about the Stynes’.

He found another hunt for today and was packing his bag in his own room. We both haven't stepped in our shared room ever since the accident, which meant we weren't even sleeping on the same bed. I'm done with being ignored, so I knocked on his door and opened it without waiting for any response. He didn't even turn around, probably knowing it was me.

“Dean,” I called his name, not even knowing what I wanna talk about, but getting him to look at me was the first step. “Dean,” I called, this time louder, and when he still didn't turn around, I walked towards him and grabbed his arm. “Alright, I'm done. When will you finally stop ignoring me?!”

He looked at my hand, which was grabbing his arm, and slowly turned around, finally looking at my face. “I'm not ignoring you, I just don't want to talk to you or be near you,” he said bitterly, pulling his arm away and reaching for his door.

“Dean, you know you're not the only one who lost someone, okay? And believe me, I know it's my fault she's gone, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But, god, you're practically killing me. I miss you,” I said desperately, waiting for something in his eyes to change, waiting for him to embrace me in his strong arms, but... Nothing. His eyes didn't even hold hatred anymore, just emptiness.

“I don't know what you expect me to say, ‘I'm sorry you were so stupid’ ‘I'm sorry you got another person killed off’ ‘I'm sorry you're so fucking useless’ Huh?! Is that what you want me to say? You want me to feel sorry for you?!” he yelled, showing the anger and darkness in his eyes while he harshly slammed me to the wall, making me whimper slightly. His words cut deep into my skin, but I tried my best to ignore them, knowing this Dean wasn't really my Dean.

“I want you to understand, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I want you to tell me that we're gonna go through this like we always do,” I said softly, looking deeply into his eyes, trying to crack him.

He let out a dark chuckle and grasped my shoulders, lowering his head to be on the same height level with me. “You want me to tell you that we're gonna go through this? Well, baby, in that way, I'd be a big liar.”

“Dean, me and Sam, we are so close to saving you. Please, just don't let the mark control you,” I begged, feeling small under his touch.

“I don't want nor need you two saving me, and believe me, at this very moment, I'm trying to not let the mark control me, so don't provoke me,” he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"I thought you trusted me.”

“Well, that trust was destroyed when you got someone who was like a sister to me killed. Have you ever noticed how many innocent people died because you were being too stupid?” he said harshly.

"We all have made mistakes, Dean," I said, as I thought about the hunts where innocent people died, and I couldn't save them. I didn't want Dean to know how much his words were affecting me, but, god, I felt like a crumpled paper.

“Seems like that's the only thing you ever do,” he smirked, letting his eyes fall on the floor again before looking up at my eyes again. “Tell me, how does it feel knowing you don't mean anything to anybody and you're just a burden in our lives? How does it feel knowing nobody loves you?”

That's it. That was the punch line to make me break into tears.

“Y-you love me, you said that before.”

“You know I lie to get laid,” he said, smirking, proud of his response.

My heart was racing more and more, and I felt nauseous.

“Dean, please-“

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing!” he grabbed my cheeks harshly. “Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.” he said, spitting the words out before letting me go. He took his bag and walked out of the room, not even glancing at me. I slid down the wall as I started sobbing silently.

Then I heard a buzz from my phone.

New message from Sammy:

“Y/N, Dean just said he found a hunt, probably three to four werewolves, and he told me to go with him. I was really surprised but didn't question him. I think he's getting better. I'll also talk to him on the road. Next time, he'll definitely ask you too, just like old times. Don't stay up and don't worry; we got this :) love you.”

He asked Sam to go, but not me. If he hadn't told me that he hated me a few minutes ago, I'd think he was worried. But if it was really 3 or 4 werewolves, there's nothing to be worried about. He just wants to stay away from me. He told me I was a burden to them; he'll probably throw me out of the bunker soon.

Dark thoughts ran through my mind, and suddenly a rush of anxiety ran through me. What if there were more than a few werewolves? What if they get hurt? What if Dean hates me even more?

I checked Sam's message again and saw that he sent me the address of where the werewolves' location is and where the hunt would probably take place. I quickly rushed to my room, grabbed my car keys, and went to drive to the location.

—————

I was hiding behind some of the trees in the forest, watching as each of the boys fought one werewolf, two already dead ones on the floor.

Everything seemed good so far; I mean, their guns were on the floor, but they were fighting each werewolf single handed and there was no need for me to make my presence known. The boys were winning as always. And that's when I realized they don't really need me in their life. I knew the words that came out of Dean's mouth tonight weren't really Dean's, my Dean. But he was somehow right; before I became the hunter I am today, I made many mistakes. Some were small, and some led to people getting hurt or even killed. I also put their lives in danger multiple times because I was being reckless. Finding the demons that killed my parents blinded my vision. I was ready to get back to the bunker when I saw both of the werewolves giving up until I noticed something.

A werewolf close to Sam's back, and it seemed like none of the brothers noticed him. I searched for my gun but remembered I forgot it in the backseat of my car. I cursed under my breath and did the only thing possible right now to save Sam. I couldn't let Dean lose another person, especially his brother, who I knew meant the world to him. I couldn't put him through something like that again when there's a chance to save the younger Winchester.

So I ran towards Sam, trying my best to not slip because of the woods on the floor. The Werewolf was close, and nobody noticed him. I'm not the only stupid one after all. The boys turned their heads to me for a slight second, surprised at my presence, but didn't stop fighting the other werewolves.

Until I pushed Sam away from the werewolf he was fighting onto the floor. He seemed confused at first, until he saw it. I assumed Dean did too but couldn't be too sure since he was behind me. I let out an agonizing scream when the werewolf grazed his claws into my stomach and the other one, which Sam was fighting before, grazed his claws into my back before my lifeless body fell on the floor. Dean didn't hesitate more seconds before getting his gun from the floor and shooting all the werewolves.

I was bleeding like a waterfall from my body and my mouth. But the good thing is-

I didn't feel any pain, or anything in that matter…

Dean Winchester’s Pov:

No no no.

This can't be happening.

It's all a nightmare, just another stupid nightmare.

I heard Sam's crying voice telling the love of my life, his best friend, to wake up, holding her torn apart body in his arms, asking her why she pushed him away. But there was no answer.

It's a nightmare happening in real life.

Her beautiful y/e/c are open but so empty, unrecognizable.

I stood over her body, not being able to move from my spot.

There is so much blood everywhere.

Her blood.

This is hell.

No, I’ve been to hell and it's worse than hell.

I started tearing up more and more, reality hitting me more every second.

I let out an angry scream and fell on my knees when I remembered my last words to her.

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing! Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.”

She wasn't nothing, she was my everything.

She mattered, she was the reason I kept going, now she's gone and it's all my fault.

All my fault.

All of the words I said came back to me, making my chest hurt.

As I knelt beside her lifeless body, surrounded by the aftermath of our shattered world, I whisper into the silent abyss, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

And deep down I felt the Mark laughing…

[cowboysandcigarettes]

✮ BORN TO DIE

─ dw x fem!reader

cw! angst, blood, break ups, fighting, mentions of death, slight religious aspects

dean didn't think. he didn't breathe, didn't blink, didn't even take his eyes off the road as he sped the impala down the highway, fingers white-knuckled on the steering wheel. he hadn't taken his foot off the gas since he got in the car, not since he heard your voicemail, and he only stepped on it harder when bobby called.

the shakiness of your voice haunted him, the spluttering laugh that turned into a gut wrenching coughing fit echoed like a broken record in his head, only making him push the speed limit harder. bobby's voice had been calm, but dean could hear the undertone of panic in the old man's voice that reflected his own.

so dean drove as fast as he could without burning baby's tires, his heart in his throat as your last confession rang in his ears.

i'm just sorry i wont get to tell you i love you one last time.

it was dean's birthday, of all days─not that he ever really celebrated it. in fact sam had been out grabbing pie and a case of beers for the two of them, when dean had finally checked his phone after being caught up in a shifter case all day, his heart dropping as he saw you had left him a voicemail.

he knew you wouldn't call unless something was seriously wrong, you had told him as much the last time you called, which was mostly telling him to stop drunk calling you. so his hands had shaken as he lifted the phone to his ear, his whole body freezing as your weak voice and self proclaimed last words were spoken through the phone.

it was by some miracle that bobby's call came just as your voicemail had finished, because only god knows what he would have done if he had been left to his own devices after possibly listening to you die in a voicemail. a fucking voicemail.

the only thing that stopped dean from going insane was bobby telling him that he had you, that he thinks you're stable, but he can't be sure, and he thinks dean is gonna want to see you.

so he didn't hesitate, not for a second, to throw his jacket on and grab his keys, only leaving sam a curt note about where he was going. thankfully, they weren't too far from bobby's place in sioux falls, having just come from a pit stop there themselves, so the only thing dean had to focus on was remembering the exit to take in a few miles.

as he drove though, he thought about you. he didn't want to think about your weak, shortening breaths that could be heard through the speaker of the phone, or the spluttering of blood from your mouth that he heard when you had coughed, so he focused on the last time he saw you.

you were beautiful. even when you were angry, especially when you were angry, like you were then, you were beautiful. and although his own anger simmered under his skin, he found himself lost in the way your lips moved as you spoke, and how the dim lighting of the motel room you were staying in cast a glow over you that formed a halo around your head, making you look angelic.

dean hated angels, he really did. and ever since finding out what brainless dicks they really were a few years ago, he doesn't like to compare things to them, but you. oh, you. dean thought that if he went back to the first days of existence and asked anyone what they thought an angel was, they would draw a picture of you.

you, with your eyes narrowed and lips pursed, shoulders tensed as you yelled at him, calling him overbearing and accusing him of not trusting you. god, he had wanted to kiss you so bad. he knew he could, you'd said before with a giggle that you loved when he shut you up by kissing you, but he'd figured in that moment that he wasn't allowed to do that.

it was only when you suggested that maybe things weren't going to work out anymore that he snapped out of it.

"what?" he had asked, heart dropping to his stomach as his eyes went wide. "what the hell are you talking about? we just need to talk it out."

"that's the problem, dean," you had argued, and dean had never hated himself more than when he saw the tears welling in your breath taking eyes. "we always say we're gonna talk it out, but we never do. it ends with us in the sheets, and just builds until we fight again, because you're too afraid to face your goddamn feelings!"

that had snapped something in dean, the accusation hitting right on the money as the natural instinct to push you away bubbled to the surface, rearing it's ugly head. "oh, i'm too scared?" he had spat, taking a step closer to you. "well, sweetheart, you're the one who is so incompetent that i have to save your ass every goddamn time!"

every second of every day since that moment, he wished he could take that back. he had said a lot of things during your relationship, but the one thing that he never insulted was your ability as a hunter. that was something that you just never did. and he knew he fucked up as soon as he had seen your face fall, tears welling so thickly in your hurt eyes that he hadn't been sure you could still see.

"is that how you feel?" you had asked, your voice small and breaking slightly.

dean had swallowed, trying to force down the self sabotaging words that were crawling up his throat, but they spilled out before he could stop them. "yeah. it is."

you had just looked at him with a searing hurt in your eyes that had burned a hole in his weeping heart, a tear finally slipping down your flushed cheek. "well, if that's really how you feel, then maybe i should just leave."

his bleeding heart had begged, cried, and screamed for him to take it back, to grab you in his arms and hold you until you stopped crying, for him to get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness until his bones ached and you smiled at him again.

but he didn't.

he just looked away from you, fists clenched, nails digging into his palms as he fought off tears of his own and muttered through gritted teeth, "maybe you should."

dean hadn't looked at you, but he had felt the weight of your stare as it burned through his bones. he still hadn't looked at you when you had muttered a broken, "fine", and walked over to the bed, and threw your stuff into your beat up duffle bag without a word.

you had stormed past him, your shoulder brushing his, but dean didn't stop you as you reached for the door. he only turned to face you when he heard you stop, forcing himself to keep a stoic expression, even as his aching mind, soul, and body begged him to grab you and not let you leave.

you had turned to face him then, your hand lingering on the doorknob, and he thinks a piece of his soul was chipped away when he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks.

dean had never used the term devastatingly beautiful, but that's what you had been then. because although the pain he had caused you was written on the features he cherished so much, tears dragging your makeup down your face, you still looked beautiful. devastatingly beautiful.

and even though the next words you had spoken had torn him into pieces, the beauty of you, inside and out, never left his rotten mind.

"i wish it wasn't so easy to love you."

dean snaps out of it as a mile sign whizzes by, and his vacant eyes flick to the speedometer to see that he's doing about twenty over the speed limit. he doesn't care though, all he cares about is that your heart is still beating. whether it's for him or not.

dean bursts into bobby's house, not bothering to knock as he rushes in, slamming the door behind him.

"bobby?" he calls out, trying to keep his voice level as no answer comes. "damnit, bobby, where are you?"

he's about to completely tear the place down when there's a rustling followed by heavy footsteps and a familiar voice. "don't blow the house down, boy, i'm right here."

bobby comes around the corner, into the hallway, and though usually there's a comfort in seeing the man dean considers a father figure, this time there's still an aching panic in his chest.

"where is she? is she okay? what happ-" dean cuts himself off as his eyes drift down to bobby's hands, which are covered in blood. your blood. "oh god.."

the old man seems to notice the look of pure terror on dean's face, and follows his gaze down to his hands, sighing at the sight of the blood.

"she's okay, dean," bobby tells him, taking a step towards him, and dean thinks he might be shaking. "there was a moment where-" he cuts himself off, looking away for a moment, as if debating what to say before he meets dean's gaze again. "there was a moment where i thought she wasn't, but she pulled through. she's okay now."

the moment the sincerity and truth of bobby's words rang through dean's head, he felt like he could finally breathe again. he let's out a deep exhale, wobbling slightly on his feet as he runs a hand over his face, cursing to himself softly.

after he takes a second to collect himself and calm his racing heart, he looks up at bobby, brow furrowed as he swallows down the suffocating panic. "can...can i see her?"

the old man hesitates, a protective edge in his eyes that makes dean realize that you probably told him everything. he watches as bobby thinks it over, before the old man sighs, his shoulders dropping slightly as he nods.

"yeah..you can see her," bobby agrees, but as dean takes a step forward, he holds up his hand, stopping dean in his tracks with a pointed look. "but i'm not so sure she's gonna want you there when she wakes up, kid. so if she opens her eyes and freaks out when she sees you, then y're gonna have to leave."

that chips another piece of dean's heart away, the fragment falling further into the pit of self despair that has been building in dean's chest since he hurt you and let you walk away from him.

"please, bobby," he rasps, his voice breaking slightly as emotions blur in his head. "i just need to see her. i...i just need to see she's okay."

the old man looks slightly shocked at the desperation in dean's voice, and something softens in his gaze. "she's been through a lot, boy," he sighs, giving dean a pointed look, though this time it's less menacing. "and i love you like my own, but right now she's my priority and if you being here is gonna stop her from healin', then i'm sorry dean, but y'cant stay."

dean nods, forcing himself to swallow the lump in his throat that threatens to choke him. "i don't wanna hurt her," he responds, his voice dropping to a pained whisper. "not more then i already have. i just- she called me, and hearin' her on the phone like that? thinkin' that might be the last time i ever hear her voice, on a fucking voicemail?"

he cuts himself off, averting his eyes from bobby as he forces the tears that burn behind his eyes to stay hidden. "i need to see her, bobby. please."

there's a moment of silence, and when dean lifts his eyes, bobby is staring right back at him, his expression slightly shocked at the rare display of emotions from him. but after a moment, the old man nods, stepping back and gesturing for dean to follow him.

at first he just stands there, but then he's rushing after bobby, each step determined but shaky as he follows the man into the main room.

dean's eyes scan the room, frantically searching for you, and when he finally does, he freezes.

you're laying on the couch, eyes closed and so pale. your skin is void of almost all of its usual color, your cheeks sunken and your lips chapped and sullen. the only thing keeping dean from passing out or falling to his knees in front of you and praying until you wake up is the shaky rise and fall of your chest that he can see under the blanket that bobby's placed over you.

said man places a comforting hand on dean's shoulder, but dean doesn't turn around, even as he hears bobby's footsteps echo down the hallway. he can't move his eyes from you, scared that if he does, you'll somehow slip from his grasp again.

he takes a couple hesitant steps closer and something curls in his gut, gripping his heart and wrenching it until it bleeds as he lets his eyes roam over your face. your familiar features are pale and sullen, but still, dean can't think of anything he's ever seen that's more beautiful than you.

devastatingly beautiful. that term pops into his head again, and this time, the words stab at something deep inside him, something he's always been too afraid to name.

because you are. and it's not just your features─though dean swears you could power a whole city just from smiling, the way it lights up your face─it's your mind, your soul, the way you laugh, the softness of your voice. it's everything. it's you.

you are devastatingly beautiful because you devastate him, crashing your way into his heart over and over again, making him high off you, making him never want to come down.

dean has to remind himself to breathe as he tentatively walks over to where you're laying, exhaling shakily before falling to his knees on the floor in front of you as if he was sitting in front of an altar, about to worship.

his now teary eyes scan over you, and before he can stop himself, he reaches a shaky hand out and brushes some of your hair out of your face.

lightning strikes through him as his skin touches yours, and he fights the urge to pull back, letting his fingertips lightly trace your cheek before his hand drifts down, finding your own and intertwining your fingers.

when he doesn't feel the familiar squeeze back of your hand, something in him breaks.

his head drops to your shoulder, his body shaking as quiet sobs tear from his chest, his teats staining the flannel you wore, his face buried into the fabric.

"i'm sorry,” he rasps through sobs, turning his head into your shoulder, burrowing into the skin of your neck, nausea creeping up his throat when he doesn’t feel your familiar warmth. he presses his lips against your skin, unable to stop the million apologies that spill from his lips. “i’m sorry, sweetheart, i'm so sorry. i love you, i’m sorry. ’m sorry, im so sorry.”

dean stays there, head pressed against you, sobbing quietly into your skin as he clings to you, praying to anyone that would listen that you would wake up. that you would come back to him and he could hold you in his arms and sob a million more apologies into your skin until you forgave him, even if he didn't deserve it.

he needed you to come back to him. he needed your touch, your kiss, your laughter, your stupid jokes that always made him laugh, your whispered words, and your loving stare.

he needed you.

and in that moment dean decided that when you woke up─not if, because he didn't know what he would do if he let himself think about that─he would try his damn hardest to get you back, because even though he doesn't think he deserves happiness, he knew he had it with you.

when you left, and took that piece of him with you, he broke. and all he wanted was to let you fix him again.

but you couldn't. because even as dean cried against you, you didn't stir, didn't flinch, the only reason he knew you were still hanging on was the shallow rise and fall of your chest under where his hand, intertwined with yours was rested firmly, and dean didn't know if he'd ever get that happiness back.

and as he sat there with you, at the foot of the altar he would give his all just to be worthy enough to worship, all he could think about was how he was begging for whatever God or being was listening that if they took you from him, they better fucking take him too.

because even if you hated him, even if you cursed him out, screamed at him to never talk to you again, dean didn't want to live in this world if you weren't in it.

bri's thoughts!: okay so this took me kinda long to finish, and was lowkey supposed to be out for my baby's birthday, but oh well. i don't rlly know if i like this, but i already started a part two, so lmk if anybody wants that! also my first time writing from dean's perspective and like angst so i apologize if this is bad, but i hope u enjoyed! (ps this is not proofread, and as always, was written at 1am, so this might be bad..)

TAGS!: (i don't rlly have a taglist so i just tagged some of my mutuals, but lmk if u wanna be added or removed) @ultravi0lence14 @bluemerakis @titsout4jackles @floralscented @soldiersgirl

[lila-lou]

✨High School Sweetheart - Pt 1✨

Summary: You come face-to-face with a ghost from your past—Dean Winchester. Five years after he vanished from your life without a word, and now he´s here. But neither you nor he are teenagers anymore.

-Listen to "Chance with you"-

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Language, ANGST, Fluff, John being a dick

Word Count: 5697

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

The air in the bar felt thick, heavy with the scent of spiced cider and a faint edge of old whiskey, blending into the murmur of low conversations and a crackling rock song on the jukebox. You’d come here tonight for a quiet drink, something to chase away the chill of early autumn and the memories that always seemed to creep up on you this time of year. But all thoughts of peace vanished the moment you saw him.

Dean Winchester.

He was older, his jawline sharper, more rugged than you remembered. But it was him, sitting across the bar, just as cocky and self-assured as he’d been five years ago. He was laughing at something, a low, rough laugh, and you could just make out his voice. Next to him was a younger guy with shaggy hair—his little brother, you guessed. The kid was a bit taller than you’d imagined, but something in the way Dean looked at him told you it had to be Sam.

Five years.

It had been five years since Dean Winchester had walked out of your life, without so much as a word or even a backward glance.

Three months was all it had taken for him to slip past your defenses, just long enough to make you feel something real—just long enough for him to break your heart.

You’d told yourself you’d moved on, but now, seeing him here, you weren’t so sure.

You didn’t know if you were more shocked or furious. What the hell was he doing here, sitting at the bar in your town, like he hadn’t left a storm behind him? You felt your hands curl into fists at your sides, trying to keep your breathing steady as you watched him lean into his conversation, completely unaware of your presence.

You clenched your fists tighter, the old hurt and bitterness simmering to the surface. Five years might as well have been five days with the way the memories rushed back.

Dean had been your first everything—first real crush, first kiss, first love, first time.

He had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world, like nothing else mattered when you were together. But then, without so much as a word, he was gone. Left you staring at empty halls, his laugh an echo that haunted you long after he disappeared. You’d never gotten an answer, just silence.

And now, here he was, like some ghost from a past you’d never properly buried.

Taking a steadying breath, you pushed away the hesitation. You weren’t a teenager anymore; you deserved answers. And damn it, he needed to know that some things didn’t just disappear.

You took another step forward, just enough for him to catch sight of you from the corner of his eye. His head turned, and when he saw you, his face went slack with surprise, the hint of a smile fading as quickly as it had come. His green eyes—those same ones that had once looked at you like you were his whole world—widened slightly.

“(Y/N)?”, he said, your name a quiet murmur, almost like a question, as though he couldn’t believe it was really you.

The casual surprise in his tone snapped something inside you. For a second, you just stared back, holding his gaze, letting him feel every bit of anger that had built up over the years.

“Surprised?”, you asked, letting a little edge slip into your voice. “You look pretty good for a ghost, Winchester”.

He blinked, the surprise melting into something else—guilt, maybe, or regret, though he tried to hide it quickly behind that familiar cocky smirk. But it didn’t reach his eyes, and you could see he was still searching for the right words, like he hadn’t quite prepared for this confrontation.

“Didn’t think I’d run into anyone from back then”, he finally said, a little hesitant, his voice quieter than usual.

“Back then?”, you laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You mean five years ago, when you left without a word? Disappeared like none of it mattered?”.

His expression softened, and he glanced away, jaw tightening. “Look, (Y/N), it’s… it’s complicated”.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you looked Dean up and down, letting the silence settle between you. The discomfort in his face was almost satisfying, but it didn’t ease the ache in your chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Sam giving you a small, awkward wave, clearly recognizing you too. He looked between you and Dean, shifting on his feet.

“Uh, yeah… I, um, need to use the restroom”, Sam mumbled, flashing an apologetic smile before slipping away, clearly eager to avoid whatever confrontation was brewing between you and his brother.

“Complicated”, you repeated, letting the word hang heavy between you. “That’s all you’ve got after all this time?”.

He flinched, looking up to meet your eyes, and for the first time, you saw something raw there, a vulnerability he hadn’t let you see back then.

“(Y/N), I know it sounds like an excuse”, he began, his voice dropping low, careful, like he didn’t want anyone to overhear what he was about to say. “But I had no choice. My dad… he needed me, and we had a job to do. I couldn’t stay, couldn’t keep you in that mess”.

You scoffed, trying to brush off the way his words still managed to stir something deep inside you, that same helpless longing you’d tried so hard to bury. “Right”, you mumbled, voice thick with the bitterness you’d been carrying. “So you just left, thinking it’d be better for me. Meanwhile, I was left to… to deal with the fact that I fell for you, Dean. Fell hard, too”.

He looked up, his expression softening with surprise and guilt, but you pressed on, feeling the words rush out, bitter and relentless.

“You waltzed in, got under my skin, made me believe… Fuck. I was such an idiot”. You shook your head, feeling the sting of it, years after you’d tried to laugh it off, to forget. “Every guy after you didn’t stand a chance, you know that? No one ever got close because, no matter what I told myself, I couldn’t get you out of my head. You twisted me up so bad in those few weeks, like some lovesick kid, just waiting for someone who never even bothered to say goodbye”.

Dean’s shoulders dropping slightly as he listened, as if your words were pressing down on him. He didn’t look away, though—he let you speak, let you throw every hurt and frustration at him without backing down. When you finally stopped, breath catching in your throat, he exhaled, like he was trying to find something, anything, to say that might make this better.

“(Y/N)”, he started, voice rough. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to come back, to give you some kind of answer. But I knew if I did, I wouldn’t be able to leave again. And my life, this life I was born into… it wasn’t fair to pull you into it. It wasn’t fair to you”.

You shook your head, fighting the sting of tears, refusing to let him see just how deep this still hurt. “So you just decided for me? Dean, I’m not some fragile thing. I could’ve handled it”.

Dean sighed heavily, his gaze dropping to the floor as he rubbed the back of his neck, frustration and regret etched into his face. “Hell, (Y/N), you were only sixteen at the time. Sixteen. You were… you were just a kid. You wouldn't have been able to handle it”, he murmured, the words coming out almost reluctantly, like admitting them hurt as much as hearing them.

Your voice came out sharper than you intended, laced with every bit of bitterness and hurt you’d kept buried for years. “What, old enough to get fucked but not old enough to be talked to?”.

Dean flinched, the words hitting him like a slap. For a second, he didn’t look up, the guilt and shame clear on his face as he shifted uncomfortably, searching for the right words. “That… that’s not what I wanted it to be”, he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I never wanted you to feel used, like it didn’t mean anything. Because it did… you meant something to me, (Y/N). More than I knew how to handle back then”.

Dean took a deep breath, his gaze shifting to the floor again as he struggled with words he couldn’t seem to say. The regret was clear in his eyes, the weight of things left unsaid hanging heavy between you.

You could almost see the thoughts playing out in his mind, the memories stirring. Back then, you’d been the only girl to ever make him feel something real—something beyond the easy, shallow hookups he’d drowned himself in afterward. Every girl since had been nothing more than a distraction, a way to bury the ache that losing you had left behind. But with you… it had always been different. You were the one he could never quite forget.

But none of that slipped past his lips. Instead, he stood there, wrestling with the weight of his own silence, unable to give you the honesty you deserved. Maybe he feared it would only hurt you more, or maybe he knew that nothing he said would make this right.

Finally, he looked up, his gaze meeting yours with a quiet, almost desperate plea. “You’re right. You deserved so much better than what I gave you. I thought about coming back more times than I can count. Thought about finding you, explaining… But every time, I stopped myself. Figured you’d moved on, that you were happier without me dragging you down. And… I was scared”. He laughed softly, bitterly. “I was scared of exactly this. Of seeing how much I’d hurt you”.

His words hit you like a wave, but you kept your expression steady, refusing to let the hurt show again.

You sighed, feeling the weight of all those years settle in your chest, a bittersweet ache you’d learned to live with but never really let go of. “I thought so highly of you back then, Dean”, you murmured, a hint of bitterness creeping into your tone. “I guess I was just a stupid little girl, thinking you were… I don’t know, some kind of hero”.

Your gaze flickered over him, taking in the familiar jawline, the strong shoulders, the way he still carried himself with that careless confidence. He looked so much the same that it hurt—like no time had passed at all, like he hadn’t been the ghost haunting your memories, the person you’d tried to convince yourself you were over. And yet, here he was, just as handsome, and the old ache you thought you’d buried crept back in, uninvited and relentless.

Dean looked away, swallowing hard, like your words struck something raw in him. When he met your eyes again, he looked almost small, a shadow of the confident guy you’d known, as if every regret he carried had finally caught up to him.

“You weren’t stupid, (Y/N)”, he said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “You saw something in me I couldn’t see in myself. And maybe I didn’t deserve it. Hell, I know I didn’t. But you were never stupid for believing in me. You were… you were just too good for someone like me. Still are”.

The honesty in his voice was like a knife, cutting through every defense you’d built. You’d wanted him to admit what he’d done, to see how he’d hurt you, but hearing it now, hearing him lay it out in plain words, didn’t bring the satisfaction you’d imagined. It only left a hollow ache where your anger had been.

Dean watched you, his gaze softening as the anger in your eyes began to fade, replaced by something quieter, more vulnerable. You’d spent years thinking he was just another guy who wanted what he could get and didn’t care who he hurt to get it. A fling, a mistake, a heartbreak that was yours alone to carry. But as you looked at him now, the regret in his face, the years of silence suddenly seemed to make a little more sense. Maybe it hadn’t been so simple after all.

You could almost see him back then, barely nineteen, just a kid himself, weighed down by responsibilities he never asked for.

-Flashback-

The sun was barely breaking over the horizon that day, casting a dim light across the worn-down motel room they’d been staying in for the past weeks. Dean had just started to drift back to sleep after another restless night when he heard his dad. He groaned, barely cracking his eyes open as his dad’s voice cut through the motel room.

“Dean! Get your ass up, we’re moving out in ten!”.

Dean shot up, a surge of panic replacing the sleep in his veins. “What? Now?”, he mumbled, scrambling out of bed, his heart sinking. They weren’t supposed to leave this town for at least a few more days—long enough for him to say goodbye, to figure out how to explain things to you without breaking every promise he’d made. Long enough to try to leave things right, to tell you why he couldn’t stay.

But John was already packing, barely glancing at him as he tossed weapons into duffel bags, his movements efficient, mechanical. “Got a new job lined up. No time to waste”. He gave Dean a hard look, that unyielding gaze Dean knew better than to question. “You knew we wouldn’t be here forever, son. It’s time to go”.

Dean swallowed hard, dread clawing at him as he glanced over at Sam, who was shoving his clothes into a bag, already resigned to the drill of their lives, even at fifteen. But this time, leaving didn’t feel like any of the others.

He’d thought he had more time with you. Thought maybe he’d found something real, something worth hanging onto, in the middle of all this chaos. He thought maybe you’d understand, maybe you’d wait. Or at least, that he could tell you the truth. That you were more than a distraction from a life that had always felt too heavy for him.

Dean swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he tried to gather the courage to push back, to buy himself just a little more time. He cast a quick glance at his dad, trying to keep his tone casual, like it was no big deal.

“Can’t we at least wait until tomorrow? There’s… there’s something I need to take care of”, he mumbled, hoping that his dad might, for once, let him have this.

But John scoffed, barely pausing in his packing as he tossed another weapon into the duffel. “A thing to take care of?”. He looked up, his mouth twisting into a bitter, sarcastic grin. “Let me guess… that girl. The one who’s got you sneaking around like some lovesick little puppy”.

Dean shifted uncomfortably, his heart sinking as he caught the mocking gleam in his father’s eyes. “It’s not like that”, he said, though even he could hear the weak protest in his voice.

“Sure it isn’t”. John’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he shook his head, chuckling darkly. “You think I don’t know what you’re up to, Dean? I told you weeks ago to cut ends with her. You think this life has room for little Miss Perfect? Some snob who thinks she’s too good for all of this?”.

Dean clenched his fists, his pulse racing as he fought the urge to defend you, to say that you weren’t like that—that you weren’t some spoiled girl who thought herself better than their life. But he knew better than to argue. He’d heard this tone before, the edge that warned him that any pushback would only make things worse.

John went on, shaking his head with an incredulous laugh. “Can’t believe you’re even thinking about her right now. Thought I raised you better than that, son. No girl—especially not some high school princess—is worth dragging yourself through the mud for. What, you think you stand a chance of keeping her? That she’d stick around if she knew the real you? Give me a damn break”.

Dean’s face burned with anger and shame, his heart twisting at the casual cruelty in his father’s voice. He wanted to yell, to tell him that you weren’t just some fling, that you mattered. But every instinct he’d been raised with told him to keep his mouth shut, to hold his feelings tight, because showing them would only lead to disappointment, to the same disapproval he’d grown up under.

John’s gaze hardened, his expression turning cold as he looked Dean up and down, unimpressed. “Get your head out of the clouds, Dean. No piece of ass is worth it, and I’ll tell you right now—no girl’s worth going soft for. Not in this life. So pack up, and let’s go. You’re not risking everything just because you’re chasing after some girl who doesn’t belong here”.

Dean felt a sting in his chest, a hollow ache settling in as he fought to keep his expression steady, to hide just how much those words hurt. In that moment, he realized that arguing would only make things worse, that his dad would never understand. So he swallowed the hurt, burying it as he always did, and forced himself to keep his voice steady, distant.

“Yes, sir”, he muttered, voice barely more than a whisper, feeling the words settle like stones in his gut. He didn’t look up as he zipped his duffel bag shut, his throat tight as he wrestled with the urge to run out the door, to find you, to tell you goodbye.

But he stayed. He let his father’s words sink in, let them mold around his heart like armor. And when he finally climbed into the Impala, eyes fixed on the road ahead, he forced himself to believe what John had said—that you’d be better off without him, that whatever you’d shared was only a distraction from a life he’d never be free from.

As they pulled out of town, he forced himself not to look back, to focus on the road, on the only life he’d ever known. But the image of you, the sound of your laughter, the warmth you’d brought to his life lingered in his mind, haunting him like a ghost he’d never truly escape.

-End of the flashback-

Dean’s eyes flickered back up to you, and you could see the anger and disappointment simmering there, shadows of the memories that had clearly never left him. His father’s words, that hard, dismissive scorn, lingered in the depths of his gaze, and for a moment, you caught a glimpse of the pain he’d buried all those years ago.

“I wanted to say goodbye”, he mumbled, almost to himself, the words barely making it past his lips. There was a heaviness in his tone, the regret palpable, and for a brief moment, he looked like that nineteen-year-old kid again, held back by forces he’d been powerless to resist.

Without another word, he drained the rest of his whiskey, his fingers tightening around the glass before he set it down. Then, with a quiet sigh, he rose to his feet, pulling his jacket on, the same guarded, closed-off look returning to his face. You felt the ache in your chest deepen as he moved, like he was preparing to leave you behind all over again.

He took a long breath, his gaze drifting over you, lingering in a way that seemed almost painful for him. You could see the conflict in his eyes, a war waging between the urge to stay and the instinct to leave—to protect you from the life he couldn’t escape. Even after all these years, there was something raw and vulnerable in the way he looked at you, as if seeing you now hurt just as much as leaving you had.

You saw his eyes trace over your face, lingering for a moment too long, taking you in as if trying to memorize you all over again. The softness in his gaze twisted something inside you, a reminder of what you’d once shared, of the way he’d looked at you when he thought no one else was watching.

“You know”, he said, his voice low, almost hesitant, “you’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen”. He paused, catching himself, a bittersweet smile pulling at his lips. “Well… woman, by now”.

You felt your cheeks flush despite yourself, but you held his gaze, feeling the weight of his words, the years of unspoken things between you. It was the truth, you realized—the same honesty he’d kept hidden all those years ago. But there was a sadness there too, an ache that told you he didn’t think he could ever give you what you deserved.

“Dean”, you whispered, stepping closer, searching his face. “You don’t have to leave again".

He clenched his jaw, glancing away for a second, wrestling with himself, his hands clenching in the pockets of his jacket. “I want to stay. Hell, I want nothing more than to stay“.

Without thinking, Dean reached out, his hand warm as it cupped your face, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek. He held you like you were something fragile, something he was afraid to let go of but equally afraid to keep holding onto. His gaze softened, his voice dropping to a whisper, rough and broken. “But I do have to leave, sweetheart”, he murmured, almost like he was convincing himself. “I always have to leave”.

The word slipped from his lips, “sweetheart”, and in an instant, you were sixteen all over again.

-Flashback-

The rain had come out of nowhere, heavy drops pelting down in sheets, turning the quiet evening into a storm as you and Dean huddled under the diner’s awning, laughing as you watched the parking lot become a sea of puddles. He was supposed to be walking you home after sharing a couple of milkshakes and a basket of fries, each of you pretending it wasn’t a date but knowing it was.

The rain showed no signs of letting up, and Dean glanced down the street, then back at you, running a hand through his damp hair as he chuckled. “Guess that puts a dent in my plans of playing gentleman and walking you home”.

You smiled, half-shivering as the wind picked up. “I’d say your plans were doomed from the start”.

He laughed, that easy, genuine laugh you’d already grown to love in the few days you’d known him. Then his gaze shifted toward the motel just down the road, a short, drenched run from where you stood. He hesitated, as if deciding whether to risk suggesting it, then shrugged. “We’re just five minutes from where I’m staying… probably closer than your place. Why don’t we wait it out there? Just until the rain lets up”.

You nodded, feeling your cheeks warm despite the cold, and with that unspoken agreement, you broke into a run together, both of you soaked within seconds as you sprinted down the empty street. By the time you stumbled inside his dingy motel room, breathless and laughing, you were dripping wet, water pooling around your feet as you shook out your arms and tried to wring out your hair.

“Looks like we didn’t exactly outrun the storm”, you teased, brushing a strand of soaked hair from your face as you looked around the cramped room, your nerves setting in as the reality of being alone with him settled over you.

Dean grinned, pulling off his jacket and tossing it over a chair. His own hair was plastered to his forehead, and water dripped from the collar of his T-shirt, but he looked at you with that familiar, slightly mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Guess not. But you know, there are worse places to be”.

There was a pause, a stillness that settled between you, the laughter fading as you met his gaze, the dim light from the single lamp casting a soft glow over his face. You saw something shift in his expression, a quiet vulnerability that made your heart race as he took a hesitant step toward you.

Without thinking, you closed the distance, your breaths mingling as you both moved closer, the world outside the room slipping away. Dean’s hand lifted, his fingers tracing along your jawline, gentle but deliberate, like he was afraid of scaring you off. His thumb brushed over your cheek, leaving a trail of warmth that made you shiver, and he leaned in, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours.

“Is this okay?”, he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze searching yours.

You nodded, too lost in the moment to speak, and that was all he needed.

He closed the gap, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was soft, almost hesitant, like he was still holding back, afraid to take more than he was allowed. But as you melted into him, as your arms wrapped around his shoulders and his hand slipped to the small of your back, the kiss deepened, the world fading to nothing but the feel of him, the warmth of his touch.

His other hand tangled in your damp hair, pulling you closer as if he needed this as much as you did. The intensity of it surprised you, the way he kissed you like you were something he’d been searching for but hadn’t dared to hope he’d find. You felt every unspoken word, every promise he couldn’t make, in the way his hands held you, in the way his lips moved with yours.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and a little dazed, he looked at you with a softness you hadn’t seen before, a quiet reverence that made your heart ache. “You’re… something else, Sweetheart”, he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, a confession that felt like a secret he hadn’t meant to share.

The rain outside was forgotten, the cold fading as you looked at him, feeling, in that moment, that he was the only person in the world.

-End of the flashback-

The memory faded, but the feeling lingered, that same warmth flooding your chest even now, five years later. Standing here with him, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek, the years between you seemed to vanish, leaving only that undeniable pull that had drawn you to him back then—the one that still left you breathless.

Dean’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his hand still cradling your face, his touch just as tender, just as careful as it had been that night. You felt the years of anger and hurt begin to unravel, slipping away in the quiet, unspoken apology in his gaze. Even now, after everything, he still had the power to make you feel like that sixteen-year-old girl, standing in the glow of his attention, melting under the weight of his presence.

Dean’s gaze held yours, his thumb tracing one last gentle line over your cheek, the faintest tremor in his touch. His voice, low and rough, barely broke through the silence as he murmured, “But this time… you get a goodbye”. His words hung in the air, laced with a finality that tugged painfully at your heart. His hand slipped away, falling slowly, as though he were reluctant to break the connection, and you felt the warmth of his touch linger on your skin even after it was gone.

Just then, you saw movement from the corner of your eye, and Sam stepped out from where he’d been standing a little way off, his presence cautious, like he was unsure if this was the right moment to interrupt. His gaze flicked between you and Dean, a mixture of concern and understanding in his eyes.

Dean glanced over at his brother, his jaw tightening briefly, then gave a short nod as if signaling that it was time. Sam shifted, visibly uncomfortable, but nodded back, clearly catching onto something unspoken between them.

You looked at Dean, your chest heavy, a thousand words hovering on the edge of your lips, none of them able to break the ache settling inside you. He was here now, right in front of you, and yet it felt like he was already gone again, slipping through your fingers like he always had.

“Dean…”, you began, your voice barely more than a whisper, not even sure what you wanted to say—only that the thought of him leaving, of watching him disappear one more time, felt unbearable.

Dean’s gaze lingered on you, his expression a mix of longing and regret. He gave you that small, sad smile again, the one that barely reached his eyes but held a world of unspoken words. "Take care, sweetheart", he murmured, his voice rough, each syllable feeling like a farewell he wasn’t quite ready to give. He brushed his fingers lightly over your arm, the touch so soft it sent goosebumps skittering across your skin, a reminder of the warmth he’d once brought into your life, now bittersweet and fading too quickly.

He turned to leave, his back already to you, and something inside you snapped—an urge, a need to hold onto this moment, to keep him here just a second longer. Without thinking, you reached out, your hand catching his arm, stopping him in his tracks. He turned back, surprise flickering in his eyes as he looked down at you, and before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the distance between you.

Rising onto your toes, you slid your hand up to the back of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingertips. His breath catching as you pulled him down, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was soft yet fierce, filled with the years of longing and questions you’d never had the chance to voice. He hesitated, just for a heartbeat, and then his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he returned the kiss with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

His hand cupped the back of your head, fingers tangling gently in your hair, as his lips moved with yours, slow and purposeful, as if trying to make up for all the lost time in this one stolen moment. The world around you faded, the sounds of the bar, the ticking clock, all slipping away as you sank into him, feeling the strength of his arms, the familiarity of his touch. You felt his heart beating against yours, strong and steady, grounding you in a way only he ever had.

When you finally pulled back, your eyes met his, breath mingling in the small space between you. His gaze was softened, his expression more vulnerable than you’d ever seen, as though he was as taken by surprise as you were by the depth of what had just passed between you.

“That’s a proper goodbye”, you whispered, a faint blush coloring your cheeks despite yourself, but you held his gaze, not wanting to break the connection.

His lips curved into the faintest of smiles, a glint of that familiar warmth sparking in his eyes. You reached into your bag, your fingers brushing against the worn card you always kept there—a small, simple card from your bookstore, printed with your name and number. You handed it to him, your hand lingering as he took it from you, his fingers brushing yours in a touch that felt both comforting and electric.

“Call me”, you said softly, barely above a whisper, your voice carrying a warmth and a hope you hadn’t let yourself feel in years. “When you’re around again… I’ll pay you back with a milkshake”.

He looked down at the card in his hand, tracing his thumb over the print before glancing back at you, a mixture of amusement and something deeper in his eyes. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just held your gaze, as if committing this moment, this feeling, to memory.

Finally, he nodded, tucking the card carefully into his pocket. “I’ll hold you to that”, he said, his voice low, a promise wrapped in that quiet tone.

With one last lingering look, he turned, his hand trailing down your arm until his fingers slipped away. And as he left, you felt a strange sense of peace settle in your chest, a hope that maybe this time, things wouldn’t end with silence and an empty space where he’d been. The ache was still there, but it was softened by the warmth of his touch, his kiss, and the quiet promise that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the end.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 Not gonna lie.. I think this is my favorite so far

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[ultravi0lence14]

Sweet Girl

sam winchester x angel!reader

1.5k | fluff, fem pronouns

summary: after sam and dean find themselves acquainted with another angel, sam finds himself more drawn to her than he imagined.

*second part to roslyn

time was a funny thing; sam found himself thinking about that in the past couple of months. so much has happened since he’s last seen you, yet all he could think about was you. leviathans were out of purgatory, cas was presumed dead. all he could think about was the last time he crossed paths with you.

him and dean were in the middle of their fight with dick roman. attempting to exact their revenge after he shot and killed bobby. tensions were high, and dean was currently off his rocker trying to kill dick. yet all sam could think about was you.

it was selfish, he knew it. bobby was dead and his brother was close to going off the deep end. so hellbent on killing bobby’s murderer that he was going to get himself killed in the process. though sam wasn’t thinking about all of that. he was thinking of what you’d do if you were here, how you’d help, and what calming words you would bring to level dean’s ramped mind.

you weren’t stupid, you heard sam’s prayers. you just felt like going down to earth at a time like this wouldn’t be beneficial. your sorrows about castiel’s death were still present in your heart, and sam and dean were so wound up you thought that your presence would just be a burden.

that all changed one night when sam and dean were in some town, trying to distract themselves with a case. dean had gone out to a bar, needing to get his brain off of all the tribulations that were running through it. sam decided to stay back at the motel, picking up a book he hadn’t read in a while to keep himself busy.

his mind wandered back to the thought of you. as it always did. he wanted — no, needed to know you were okay. so with one final shred of hope in his soul, sam prayed to you.

the winchester’s prayer came to you loud and clear, you just couldn’t bare to ignore it anymore. he seemed to worn down, so tired and drained from all the problems him and his brother had to face. you needed to see him, needed to comfort him and tell him that his and dean’s attempts were the best they could do in the moment. that avenging bobby would come when the time was right.

as sam started to become doubtful of your arrival, the melodic sound of wings ruffling and wind blowing through the room had his head snapping up in a startle. there you were, standing in front of him in all your glory.

sam didn’t know if you were real or if he were dreaming. though the way you softly smiled at him as you made your way towards his bed had him believing that you were real. you were actually here.

the bed creaked beneath sam as he moved to stand up. his feet found themselves moving to stand directly in front of you, taking in the slopes and slants of your face. the soft, comforting feeling of your black peacoat brushed against his chest, giving sam a serene feeling of deja vu. he hadn’t felt like this since you left all those months ago, and he was starting to realize that he missed the feeling.

“hello sam.” your voice came out in a smooth whisper. it shook sam to his core, allowing his stomach to feel fluttery and his head to feel fuzzy. hearing your voice for the first time in months gave sam the same feeling as a straight shot of dopamine. he wanted to hear it everyday. he’d be damned if he didn’t.

releasing a breath that seemed to come from his soul, sam lunged at you and wrapped his arms around your body. “oh god you’re here.” he’d shrunk into himself, craning his body so his head was in your neck. sam’s one arm was around your waist and the other was cradling your head. it was almost like sam was trying to convince himself you were real. “i’ve missed you so much, Y/N.”

to you, this is what true solace felt like. you were an angel, yet the feeling of being in sam’s arms was more comforting and pure than being up in heaven. sam winchester was a blessing. a soft spoken man who radiated comfort off of him in waves. this is what you needed. while at the same time you were what sam needed. all of this made you realize how deeply important sam was to you, and how loving him for the rest of your existence wouldn’t be so bad.

the feeling of sam lifting his head from your neck made you snap your own upward to look into his hazel eyes. sam’s smile could light up a night sky. hell, it could overpower heaven. you’d never had anyone smile so brightly looking at you, and it was making your vessels cheeks turn a tinted pink.

“you don’t understand how much i desperately needed to see you.” sam’s words came out in heaping breaths, like he couldn’t waste a second more without letting you know what was on his mind. “all i could think about since you went back to heaven was you. it was selfish of me, i know. you are just everything i want Y/N. everything i need.”

to another person, sam’s confession would come off as random. the burst of his heart into words would come off as too soon and otherworldly to others. but to you, it made sense. you and sam had a bond. sealed since you kissed his cheek before you left. anytime he prayed to you, you could feel his heart and soul pouring into his words. all his pain, all the times when dean would do something erratic. even when bobby passed, he spilled out his heart to you.

the palm of your hand lightly grazed sam’s cheek, allowing him to melt into your touch. a soft whimper left his lips, almost as though your touch brought forth all the inner turmoil he’s been holding in. your comforting hand allowed him to finally break down his walls, allow himself to finally grieve.

“my love.” you spoke, bringing your face closer to his so you could be as close to him as possible. “i wanted to see you so desperately, but you and dean seemed to busy. i didn’t want to be a bother.” it was as though all of sam’s pain and sorrow melted away at the thought of you thinking you were bothering him. instantly, he looked down so your eyes were connected. “you are not a bother. you are the only person i’ve been dying to see. i’ve missed you so much.”

sam didn’t have time to finish his sentence, for his own lips smashing into yours cut himself off. the feeling was euphoric, nothing you’d ever experienced before. and that was saying a lot for the fact you’ve been alive for eons.

in all honesty, this was your first kiss. but sam was so gentle. so tender in how he encompassed your body to his and made you feel as though nothing would ever harm you.

all of the pent up feelings we’re poured into your kiss. all of sam’s yearning for you, the discomfort you felt when you couldn’t be near him. all of it was melting away. you two were finally together, and it was everything you’ve ever needed.

you found yourself tangled up with sam in the motel’s bed as the night went on. the two of you spent hours talking. you about what has been happening in heaven and sam about all of the tribulations he’s had to endure. it wasn’t hard for him to speak on them because you were there to smooth your hand over his face, tell him that nothing was his fault and everything would work itself out.

by the time the sun peaked over the horizon, sam’s hands were in your hair. his deft fingers fumbled with the strands, twisting and braiding, just so he knew you were actually there.

sam knew this was just a vessel. that the face he was looking at was actually the face of a woman named roslyn. yet that didn’t matter to him. your expressions, mannerisms, even the light in your eyes were just so you. roslyn was just how you looked to others, but the way you lived through her body was entirely your own.

you were so sweet. the sweetest girl that sam has ever had the chance to come across. he couldn’t help himself in admiring your face, looking at the way your eyes twinkled with the wonder of the world. sam found himself placing a delicate kiss on your forehead, than the bridge of your nose, both of your cheeks, and finally, the curves of your lips.

the feeling of your lips pressing back against his was bliss, for you felt the same way that he did. it was all he needed.

“my sweet girl. you saved me.” sam whispered as light from the sun blossomed like daisy’s on your face. illuminating your smile as you nuzzled your face back into his chest, making sam winchester feel like the luckiest man on earth.

[semisgroupie]

finding a middle ground

jotaro kujo x fem. reader x noriaki kakyoin

wc: 3.7k

warnings: college au!, modern au!, dubcon (kakyoin plans this out and both are hesitant before agreeing), threesome, oral sex (f! and m!receiving), facial, cum eating, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, praise, rough sex, jotaro is mean to reader but softens at the end, kakyoin is a mastermind

synopsis: sometimes you need a third party to help you solve unnecessary tension

a/n: this is a commission piece that I wrote for @jctaro!! cherry my love thank you for trusting me with this idea and being my first ever commission!!!

Jotaro Kujo is the biggest asshole on campus—well, to you he is. You don’t know what sparked it between you two but there was no possible chance for you two to get along whenever you were near each other. Which was quite often since you had to fulfill the same requirements he did for his major.

It was honestly quite childish but neither of you could just put whatever aside to get along. Whenever he saw you, he would mutter something under his breath or send a nasty glare your way. You would do the same back to him, pointing out whenever he messed up in class (which was a rare occasion). Sometimes the glares would turn into longing glances on both ends but nothing to really dwell on. It was always a back and forth, a tit for tat, just nonstop. It was even worse when you both got paired for a project, the name calling and the taunting in private escalated to new levels. But it was never anything to take to heart.

Today, you were sitting in your biostatistics class listening to your professor describe what was needed for your upcoming midterm, focusing as they went over what topics you should study and what the grading procedure was. The class was passing by pretty quickly and once you were dismissed you gathered your things and started making your way to the door. You walked out of the classroom and stopped on the side to find your phone to see if any of your friends were free to hang out while you had a break between classes. You were interrupted when you heard someone clear their throat. You looked up and saw green eyes glaring down at you. “Sorry Kujo, I don’t have the time to set up a private study session for you, not like you’d benefit from it anyway.” You fixed your bag over your shoulder and crossed your arms over your chest as he scoffed.

“What makes you think that I’d ever want help from you? And is there a change of plans for the test this time? Didn’t have enough room in your schedule to blow the dean?” You rolled your eyes at his words and sighed, he would often insult things like your intelligence or bring things up like this to try to get under your skin. “Or did he find someone younger and prettier to focus his time on? Is that what it is? He must have found a pretty little freshman and got tired of your loose holes. Too much cock will do that to you.” Your eyes widened at his words and you were taken aback. He never stooped this low before.

“You’re being a dick, Kujo.” You adjusted your bag again and he just raised an eyebrow, “It’s not my fault that you’re just not interesting to anyone anymore, tell you what. I’ll get you a paper bag and you can decorate it all pretty so when someone is desperate enough for some pussy, they can just cover your face and use you.” Tears brimmed your eyes as he spoke and you quickly blinked them away, “fuck you, Jotaro.” You pushed past him and made your way out of the building your class was in, the tears you were trying to hold back finally spilled out.

Jotaro, on the other hand, stood there and watched you leave. He walked out of the building and the only thing that filled his mind was how hurt you looked. He didn’t want to go that far but you were there and you were just at the right place, at the wrong time. He combed his fingers through his hair and cursed himself as he made his way to his next class. He knew he should have apologized because that’s not how his mother raised him but distance would probably be the best thing for you.

After the encounter with Jotaro, you made your way to one of the dorm halls and went straight to one of the rooms, knocking on the decorated door. “It’s me, please tell me you’re here.” The door quickly opened and you buried your face into the chest of the man who lived in the dorm room. “Noriaki, I hate him. I hate him so much, he’s such an asshole. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.” Your words were muffled by his chest and Kakyoin wrapped his arms around you tighter. He kept you close to him as he walked with you inside of his dorm and shut the door behind you both. “Hey, what happened?” He led you to the couch in his room and helped you sit down, you moved back to lift your head from his chest and sniffled. “That bastard called me a slut and just kept digging more and more. He said I blew the dean for my grades and so many other things. I hate him.” You felt the tears brim your eyes again and he lifted his hand to wipe at your eyes. “Don’t cry anymore, I just want you to forget about him and today. How about we order some food and then you can stay here while we watch some of your favorite movies? It’ll help you get your mind off the day and I hope it’ll make you forget about what happened with him.” You nodded and leaned in to rest your head against him, while mumbling, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Kakyoin had known you and Jotaro for years which meant that he also knew that you two couldn’t stand each other. He heard of all of the name calling, bickering, just all of it. He was the middle ground, always calming either one of you down after a heated encounter. He was honestly starting to get tired of hearing everything going on between you two, he knew that you two wouldn’t mend things on your own and he had to get involved in his own way. He could see right through everything and he knew that there was something lingering whenever you two went at each other’s throats. Neither one of you would admit it but he just had to get the ball rolling. That way he could also get his payment for being a therapist for the both of you.

As the days passed, Kakyoin was getting his plan ready for action. In a week everyone on his floor would be gone for an art gallery exhibit for some extra credit. He didn’t need to go because the professor he was an assistant for already excused him. Kakyoin had reached out to you and Jotaro, inviting you both over to hangout and spend the day together. It was something you both quickly agreed to because 1) finals were beyond stressful and 2) neither of you knew that the other would be coming. Ever since that day you and Jotaro avoided each other like the plague and deep down you both missed each other.

Finally the day came and Kakyoin was finishing with setting his dorm room up when you came and knocked on his door. He opened the door and let you in. “So, what do you have planned for today?” He wrapped an arm around you and led you to the couch, “I was thinking that we could just do something a little different today. We always order some food and watch movies until you fall asleep but I think we need a little change of pace.” You furrowed your eyebrows and looked up at him, you opened your mouth to question him but you were interrupted by Kakyoin’s door opening. There stood Jotaro and his cerulean eyes instantly found you.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jotaro’s deep voice boomed through the room as he stepped in and shut the door behind him. “I could ask you the same thing, Kujo. But for the record, Noriaki invited me over.” You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him, “he invited me over too.” He raised an eyebrow and both of your eyes went to the redhead with a wide smile on his face. Both of your expressions were the same, waiting for him to answer the questions that haven’t been asked. Kakyoin looked at you both and sighed, “I just think that this was the best way to get you two to talk things out like normal people. Just hear me out. You both have been avoiding each other and ever since you two met you’ve had this animosity towards each other for no reason. Jotaro crossed a line and he’s more than aware of that. You were hurt and I think that with some talking and action then you two could be civil.”

You looked at Kakyoin and then looked at Jotaro before sighing. He wasn’t wrong, you two haven’t even thought about talking things through or trying to figure out what caused a rift between you both. “Fine, but if he says something out of line then I’m leaving.” Kakyoin nodded before looking over at Jotaro who just nodded. The silent agreement was enough for Kakyoin to continue. The redhead moved behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders, gently rubbing them as he looked at the raven haired male. “Jotaro, I think you should apologize to her. What you said to her was beyond offensive, humiliating and just rude. Even you admitted to me that you crossed the line.”

Jotaro looked at his friend then looked at you, “I’m sorry.” He mumbled the words and you rolled your eyes, scoffing. Just as you opened your mouth to say something, Kakyoin beat you to the punch. “You call that an apology, Jotaro? You could be more heartfelt and honestly, I don’t think words are enough. Words are what got us into this mess in the first place, maybe some actions could help mend the wounds you caused her.” His hands moved along your shoulders and toyed with the thin straps of your dress before sliding his hands along your body, touching and caressing all of your curves. You were in shock to say the least, but Kakyoin’s hands felt so good. You couldn’t deny that Kakyoin was attractive and you have had unsavory thoughts about him, along with the dark haired male who watched his friends hands along your body. “Don’t you think she’s beautiful? But her body just feels so tense, I think the best way to apologize is to help her destress.” Jotaro licked his dry lips and watched how rough Kakyoin’s hands moved along your body, he heard the mewls and whimpers that escape your lips and he couldn’t help but groan.

Kakyoin leaned in close to your ear and you could hear the smirk grow along his lips, “tell Jotaro how he should apologize to you, tell him that he should make you cum over and over until you forget about all the harsh things he has said to you.” You couldn’t say something like that, especially to Jotaro, you hated his guts, right? But as you opened your mouth to say something, one of Kakyoin’s hands moved to your chest and started to grope your breasts and the other hand moved to lift the skirt of your dress to your hips. He moved one of his legs to kick your legs open to spread them for the man in front of you both. “Don’t you see how wet she is? She’s practically soaking through her panties and you’re just standing there. You could be touching her, indulging in her. But don’t you want more? You just need to let him know.” He continued to grope and caress your body and you looked at Jotaro with half lidded eyes. “Jotaro…please.”

Just with that, Jotaro moved from his position and took a few long strides to get closer to you. He moved one hand up and hesitated for a moment before placing it on your hip, he looked down at the wet spot on your panties then looked into your eyes before looking at Kakyoin. “What do you gain from all of this? This was a disagreement between two people, not the three of us. And why are you still touching her?” He raised an eyebrow and his grip on your hip tightened a little as Kakyoin’s hands slowed down. “I’ve been the middle man this whole time, making sure you two just stick with throwing verbal jabs at each other. I mean if I leave you two alone, who knows what could happen? Plus, it's not up to you. My dear, do you mind if I join in?” You turned your head to look at Kakyoin and nodded, “I want you with us, please Noriaki.” Kakyoin pulled you closer to him and started leading you to his bed, Jotaro following close behind.

Just as you three reached the foot of the bed, clothes were taken off and strewn all over the floor. Kakyoin got on the bed and leaned back against the headboard and ushered you to lean back against him, he put his arms around you and reached down to spread your legs. Jotaro got on the bed and leaned in between your legs. His cerulean eyes trailed along your pussy, seeing how wet you were for both of the men in the room. Jotaro licked his lips and leaned in close to lick up your slit. He groaned at the taste and placed his hands on your inner thighs as he started to lick and suck your cunt like it was his last meal. Your back arched and you brought one hand down to Jotaro’s hair, threading your fingers through the soft, dark strands as he dipped his tongue inside you.

Kakyoin moved one hand to your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. Moans and whines left your lips as you looked into his eyes. “You just look so pretty when he’s eating your pussy. The way your body moves and writhes is a sin that we are blessed enough to indulge in.” He leaned in close and pressed his lips against yours. Kissing you passionately as Jotaro loudly slurped and sucked on your pussy. Your legs started to quiver and shake around his head as he kept your thighs spread for him. Jotaro moved one hand up to rub your clit with his thumb and dipped his tongue in and out of your messy cunt. You had never felt this good before, none of your toys could bring you the pleasure that he’s bringing you now. You broke the kiss with Kakyoin and your chest started to rise and fall quickly.

“Gonna cum!” Kakyoin moved his hands to your breasts and started pulling on your nipples while he started to trail kisses along your neck and shoulder. “Cum, make a mess all over his face, pretty girl. Soak him in your juices until you can’t anymore. It’s what you deserve.” You arched your back and threw your head back against Kakyoin’s chest and cried out as your orgasm hit you. Your body trembled and Jotaro held your legs open as he drank all your juices, slurping even louder. He continued to drink you all in until Kakyoin moved one of his hands down to Jotaro’s forehead and started pushing him back. Jotaro looked at you both and your juices covered his lips and chin. “What happened?” Kakyoin chuckled and shook his head, “I want a taste too, stop being so greedy, Jotaro.”

Jotaro licked his lips and pulled back from you. Kakyoin gently moved you up from his chest and helped position you on all fours before moving behind you. Jotaro moved in front of your face and your eyes widened when you saw his cock. It was massive just like him, thick in all the right places and it looked so heavy. You were practically drooling at the sight and Jotaro wrapped his hand around it, stroking it a few times. “Let’s see if you can do more than just bitch and whine with this pretty mouth of yours.” You looked up at him and narrowed your eyes as Kakyoin’s hands moved along your ass, spreading you for him as he spit on your sensitive pussy. “Fuck you, Kujo.” He laughed and gripped the base of his cock, tapping it against your lips, “you will soon. Now open up.”

Kakyoin leaned in and started licking along your slit then wrapped his lips around your sensitive clit. Your mouth fell open and Jotaro took advantage of your open mouth and pushed his cock inside. Jotaro threw his head back and placed his hands on either side of your head as he started thrusting. He set a rough and hard pace, each time he thrusted his cock hit the back of your throat causing you to gag each time. He didn’t relent, no matter how many times you gagged it was just more pleasurable for him. Kakyoin held you open and ate you out with the same fervor as Jotaro. Your body trembled and you moaned around Jotaro’s cock, giving the raven haired male even more pleasure. “You taste so fucking sweet, I can’t get enough of your taste.” Kakyoin rasped out and continued to eat you out like a man starved. You were already sensitive from your first orgasm and you already started to feel the knot tighten in your stomach. Kakyoin moved his hand to your entrance and pushed two fingers inside you, curling them to press right against your g spot as he suckled on your clit.

You brought your hands up to Jotaro’s thick thighs and dug your nails into them as you reached your second orgasm of the day. Your body trembled violently and you cried out around Jotaro’s cock as you drenched Kakyoin’s face in your juices. Jotaro pulled out of your mouth and pumped his cock a few more times and thick ropes of his cum landed on your face. He grunted and his hand continued to move up and down his thick length. A few more ropes landed on your face and you opened your eyes to look at him, a smirk grew on your lips. “Wow, didn’t think you would cum quickly like a virgin, Kujo. Was that your first blowjob?” He grabbed a napkin and cleaned off some of his cum from your face and tossed it in the trash bin.

“Shut up, I’m not done yet.” He wasn’t wrong, his cock was still rock hard and bobbed as he moved off the bed. Kakyoin gave your pussy one last kiss then moved in front of your face. His cock was big but not as thick as Jotaro’s so it would give your jaw some relief for a moment. Jotaro gripped your hip with one hand and gripped his cock with the other then he slammed into you. You cried out his name out loudly and looked back to glare at him, “shut up, this was what you wanted.” He held your hips tightly and started drilling into you, if felt like his cock was splitting you in half in the best way possible. Moans and whines left your lips and you looked up at Kakyoin before sticking your tongue out for him.

“So pretty begging for cock like that. Fuck.” Kakyoin bit his lip and slowly pushed his cock into your mouth. You started sucking and you started bobbing your head up and down his length. He was much gentler than Jotaro, giving you time to get adjusted to his length. “Look at that, you’re such a good girl. Sucking so good like that, think you’re ready for more? For me to be a little rougher?” You nodded as best as you could and Kakyoin placed one hand on your head and started thrusting. He moved in sync with Jotaro, every time Jotaro slammed into you Kakyoin pulled his cock out only to the tip then when Jotaro only had the tip inside of you, Kakyoin buried himself down your throat.

You were beyond sensitive from all the orgasms and the way Jotaro hit all your sensitive spots was just driving you closer and closer to the edge. Jotaro’s hips continued to snap into yours as he fucked you relentlessly. Your eyes rolled back and you cried out around Kakyoin’s cock as your orgasm ripped through you. Jotaro held your hips tighter as he continued to snap his hips into yours almost animalistically. Kakyoin continued to thrust into your mouth and held your head in place as he started to cum, “don’t waste a drop. Swallow it all, pretty girl. Just swallow it all.” You greedily swallowed around his cock as he continued to pump his cum into you. Soon Jotaro followed, he pressed his hips against yours and started to fill you with hot, sticky ropes of cum. Kakyoin pulled out of your mouth and you dropped your head against the bed as Jotaro continued to fill you up.

Kakyoin got off the bed to grab water and grab a rag to clean you off with and Jotaro slowly pulled out of you and helped you rest against the bed completely. He laid beside you and pulled you closer to him. “, I just wanted to apologize for how I’ve been treating you. I crossed the line that day and that wasn’t called for, none of it was called for. I did a lot of fucked up things and said a lot of fucked up things, you didn’t deserve that.” Kakyoin walked over to you two with a wide grin on his face and handed the water bottle in his hand to you then started to wipe you down with the wet rag in his other hand.

“You’re welcome.” He spoke as he continued to wipe you down and both you and Jotaro looked at Kakyoin with furrowed eyebrows. “My plan, if I didn’t think this through then you two would still be on no speaking terms and I would be the one to try to convince you two separately to try to work it out or just get over it.” He shrugged and Jotaro shook his head, “I’m not too sure about that. I think we’ll need a few more sessions of this to really make sure everything is mended.” You smiled and nodded, “that I can agree with.”

taglist: @enchantedforest-network

[tyxoxo]

perv!jeno

fourth time trying to get this to show in the tags, i’m so sorry ㅠㅠ

warnings: dubious consent

milf!lover jeno who is such a perverted piece of shit, appears innocent on the outside as he attends his favorite class, just to see his favorite professor in question, you. but on the inside, he’s thought of the dirtiest fantasies, with no ounce of shame that you were twice his age. who could blame his desires, when you looked so fuckable in your professional attire. 

the only reason he hasn’t failed physics is because of his attendance record. without your presence, he would surely have been sent to the Dean’s office for his negligence. 

his chosen seat in the lecture room, elevated in the back, gave him just the right amount of obscurity to palm himself through his denim jeans as he watched you pace back and forth along the ground floor. 

he actually felt sorry for you.

you seemed disheartened by the lack of enthusiasm in your students, their ambition thwarted from the harsh realities of university—student loans, terrible diet, and all the other vices that came with being a young adult.

jeno knew just the thing you needed. someone like him to destress your mind and body. someone like him that would ravage you beyond repair, so you no longer cared about the miniscule details. 

fucked so hard that all you cared about was him, and his raging cock.  

every day he prayed to whatever god just as vile as him, that the slit in your pencil skirt would grow a little taller. maybe even a hole would appear in your sheer pantyhose; he always loved the look of that. 

if you were inquisitive enough to look past his nerdic qualities, you would never go back to men your age. jeno knew he was the entire package.

but jerking off in his dorm room just wasn’t fulfilling his needs anymore. and his roommate got tired of the constant, wet sounds of him beating his dick into oblivion every night out of the week. so much so that just last week the dorm RA held a “wellness meeting” per request of his roommate.

jeno shook his head free of that poor excuse of a therapy session in regards to his masturbation addiction. today was the day that he would approach you after the lecture.

with a hefty sigh, you said your usual,

“don’t forget the discussion post due tonight by 11pm! everyone have a good weekend!”

you knew your reminder wouldn’t hold much weight. there were only a few that would actually participate. but there was only so much you could do.

and it was a well known fact that physics was among the most-hated subjects here.

luckily, this was the last class of the day. and the weekend was just around the corner. you were excited to try out a new cookware set that your daughter brought you for Mother’s Day, even inviting her and her fiancé over for dinner tomorrow as a show of thanks.

as you packed up your laptop, and planner into your leather tote bag, you were surprised to find that the lecture room wasn’t empty yet. 

the last one, Jeno Lee, had just reached the final step along the walkway. 

you paused on your gathering of items, deciding to give your undivided attention in case he had a question or concern.

the only concern you had, was the hard-on poking past his light blue denim jeans. 

it was painfully obvious, and quite intimidating considering his slim stature. 

“is everything okay Mr. Lee?” 

you tried your hardest to keep your eyes focused on his face, even deciding to zero in on his browline glasses to distract you from his groin.

“yeah everything’s fine.”

he stood in front of you like nothing was amiss, casually hooking the single backpack strap on his left shoulder, his other hand resting in his right pocket. 

“if that’s the case, i’ll go ahead and have my leave now. have a good weekend.” 

you failed at making it less obvious that you were dying to get out of the lecture hall. it wasn’t out of distaste, far from it.

rather, you felt disgusting for liking what you saw. everything down to the simple plain white tee, loose-fitting jeans, and light blue Jordans made you rub your thighs together as you stood there. even the veins that tensed along his forearm as he clutched his backpack strap was enough to make your breath hitch deep inside your chest.

fortunate enough for you, your phone buzzed with a notification from your daughter as you made your way to the exit. 

bringing the phone up to get a clearer view of the message proved futile, as you felt his warm hand snatch your wrist, causing your phone to flail out onto the linoleum floor. 

he waited until your back was turned, like the coward he truly was, to go in for the kill. your entire body swung back to face him, with a single yelp escaping your lips as you tried to fight against the whirlwind that was your student.

you winced as he escorted you back to your desk, back arching from the sharp strike to your spine. chest pressed firmly against his own as he let his backpack slip off his shoulders and onto the floor. the third button to your white dress shirt had popped open upon impact, revealing a lacy black bra that was waiting to be ripped apart, much to his liking. 

you were overly sensitive to the stimuli he forced upon you; wrist beginning to sting from his harsh hold, waist feeling singed down to the bone as he gripped you there with his other hand.  

upon opening your eyes, you were met with a being that surely dreamed of this moment. to watch as you felt his dick prod at the middle of your skirt, licking his upper lip in concentration as grinded upwards into your clothed heat.

his blissful expression soon turned to disappointment as your pencil skirt provided too much of a barrier between his swollen cock. 

he would have to take care of that soon.

despite letting up on your waist, all of your thoughts of an escape were in vain as you heard the familiar unclasp of a belt buckle, yet somehow you couldn’t forge a call for help, not when his lips were millimeters away from your own. 

your eyes trailed from his blown pupils to his mouth as he spoke, nowhere near prepared for the filth that fell from his lips. 

“i hope you don’t mind that i give you another one, since you’re already a mom…” 

[sweetcocopowder]

Destiel | Desperation

「Synopsis 」 : While on a hunt, Dean gets hit with an unknown pollen that stings the throat. But after awhile of thinking everything is fine, Dean realizes he is not fine and very horny...

「Word count」 : 3.97K

-> Genre: Destiel Smut

Paring: Dean Winchester / Castiel

[Warnings] : Sex pollen/Dub-Con/Overstimulation/Multiple Orgasms/Top Castiel/Bottom Dean/Car sex/Hand Job/Praise/P without P/Smut/Soft Castiel/Adult themes

Whatever it was, it sprayed Dean straight in the face with a hot, sticky pollen like substance. It smells sweet, but so sweet that it instantly makes Dean sick in the gut. It gets in his eyes, and he doesn’t know where things are anymore. It almost burns his skin, and he shouts out in frustration towards himself. He holds onto his knife tightly in case anything else happens while he’s trying to wipe the shit from his eyes with his other hand. But with how much he wipes, it doesn’t want to come off.

“Cas!? You there?” Dean calls out.

He hears footsteps coming closer then they stop right in front of him. “What happened?”

“Something sprayed me in the face and I can’t get it out of my eyes,” Dean explains his situation, pointing to his face.

Cas is silent for a moment as he assesses the problem. He quickly runs over to the Impala and comes back with one of Sam’s half empty bottles of water. Cas pushes Dean’s head to the side and gently so that he can splash the water into his eyes. Dean scrunches up his face and holds his breath as the angel cleans the pollen from his eyes. Finally, Dean is able to open his eyes. But he can still feel it in his lungs and taste it in his mouth. It’s horrid. He has to hold his stomach down, swallowing bile that rises to the back of his throat.

Dean looks around at what attacked him and sees a big purple flower wrapped around a tree. The two of them are currently in the middle of the woods tracking an unknown creature. This woods is it’s home and is layered with traps and other shit that they’ve had to disarm or cut down.  

“What is this?” Dean asks, poking the flower with the knife.

It poofs another smaller yellow cloud, but it looks like it’s all out of juice. Cas looks it over but doesn’t get too close. He steps away from it, as if realizing what it is.

“So?” Dean asks again.

“It’s nothing,” Cas says a little too quickly before walking off further into the woods.

They haven’t even gotten ten minutes into the trees and Dean is already being attacked by flowers and Cas is lying. This job is going to be great. Dean follows the angel a few feet back, not wanting to walk into another trap. But he soon finds it hard to concentrate when his lower gut begins to feels hot. Almost a contraction that has him folding over slightly. His breathing becomes heavy and oh god, why is his dick hardening in his jeans.

He stops and leans up against a tree for a second. Castiel disappears behind some other foliage and Dean curses to himself. He pushes himself off the tree and nearly collapses, his knees feeling weak. God, what did that flower do to him. Whatever it was, he has to push on. He treks through where the angel went and spies him further up.

“Cas, wait!” Dean tries to call out loudly, but his voice comes out hoarse.

His jeans hold his hard on painfully and he tries to shift his cock around so it’s less uncomfortable. But it doesn’t work well since he decided to wear a tighter pair than his others. Cas comes over and keeps his eyes up even though he blatantly saw what Dean was doing.

“You’re shit at lying, what was that flower?” Dean grumbles out.

The hunter is starting to form a layer of sweat over his forehead now and Cas quickly realizes that he got the full brunt of the flower’s pollen. He thought he would have some time to get back to the bunker after the job. But’s it’s less than a minute and Dean is already feeling the effects greatly.  

“It’s a flower only one type of creature puts around their den to protect themselves,” Cas explains as Dean leans up against another tree. “If it’s not treated it can lead to fatality.”

Dean’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “What!? You said it was nothing. You lied!?” He snaps.

“I lied, okay? I thought we would have some time before…” the angel trails off, trying to figure out how to say it without being so blunt. But’s he’s going to have to be.  

“Before what, Cas!?” Dean snaps.

Castiel thinks for another second before saying very bluntly, “It’s a sex flower. The pollen creates an effect to the body that if you doesn’t have any form of release, the person effected will die.”

Dean stares at Cas for what feels like forever until he groans, nearly folding in half. The heat in his gut has turned into a desperation that has the hunter feeling so ungodly horny. He inhaled a lot of that pollen. God, Cas isn’t kidding.  

“Just my luck,” Dean mumbles through grinded teeth. “So what? I gotta jerk off and this will go away?”

“Kind of, Dean. That’s if you can out last the pollen before you pass out and die,” Cas says very bluntly.

Green eyes stare wide at the angel. “Dude,” Dean snaps.

“What?” Cas snaps back.

Another wave of heat and rawness takes a hold of Dean that has him holding his gut. He grinds his teeth and holds still until it eases up slightly. The hunter inhales deeply not realizing he was holding his breath.

“Are you going to lend a hand?” Dean grunts out.

Cas feels himself freeze up and go red in the ears. “Uh, how would you-“ he stumbles over himself.

“I don’t know!” Dean suddenly snaps. “I’m starting to freak out man! My hands are shaking so much I can barely hold shit at the moment!”

The hunter slides down the tree and drops his knife, pushing it away slightly. Cas kneels down in front of him and Dean suddenly grabs him by the tie and pulls him in close. It’s so bad. His body feels like it’s on fire. He can barely think straight.

“Cas, I need you to do something!” Dean shouts, making the angel flinch.

Cas hesitates for a second before beginning to unbuckle the hunter’s belt. “Tell me if you want me to stop at anytime or-“

“Cas, I swear to God! Just hurry up!” Dean snaps.

At this point, if the angel touches him he knows he’s not going to last long. He tries to help Cas pull his pants down but his fingers feel numb. His dick though is already painfully hard but it’s better than it being stuck in his pants. His dick is already leaking a little and he hasn’t even touched himself yet. Cas spits into his hand and Dean wishes he could appreciate the sight but he just needs the angel to hurry the fuck up at this point.

He regrets it instantly at the shock that zaps through his body as Cas wraps a hand around his cock. Dean grunts loudly and holds onto Cas tightly, digging into his shoulders. Cas doesn’t move, waiting for Dean. The hunter is hunches over, his head buried into Castiel’s chest and his shoulders shudder with every breath.

“Keep going,” Dean finally pants out. “Just, ah-“

Cas moves his hand and it feels like they’ve already gone five rounds, his dick sensitive as all hell. Cas strokes his cock slowly, not wanting to hurt Dean any more than he seems to be doing. He shifts Dean and himself so that he can hold the hunter closer and keep both of them on their knees. He keeps Dean upright with a hand on his back and having him lean into him. He can feel the hunter shaking under him, with every heavy exhale he grunts through his teeth. Cas becomes worried about Dean’s safety. He knows he can outlast the pollen, but can Dean. He’ll just have to push the hunter through it.

Despite the pain, Dean begins to find the pleasure in it. The heat that rolls in his gut doesn’t let up, it only gets stronger with each stroke. Dean begins bucking into each stroke, trying to get to his high. To get this over and done with. Cas speeds up, pulling his dick and smearing the precum with his thumb over the head.. With another thrust and another stroke, Dean is coming in Cas’s hand. It’s a quick and lazy hand job, but it’s one step closer to riding out this pollen. Dean holds onto the angel as it feels like his orgasm rips through him. It leaves him panting and feeling dizzy. Cas wipes his hand in the leaves on the ground but he ends up just cleaning his hand on his trench coat.

But Dean’s cock doesn’t soften and the heat in his gut doesn’t disappear. The consequences of the pollen are still in full effect and he doesn’t want to go through another one. Dean thought the symptoms would start to disappear, but they only heighten. He groans in protest as his whole body becomes sensitive and his vision begins to go blurry with how badly the pollen is effecting him. He needs another release even though Cas just finished pulling him off two seconds ago.

“Cas, that didn’t work,” Dean pants out.

“The flower acts like a drug. You’re going to have to out last the pollen until its effects wear off,” Cas explains in his ear.

His eyes widen. “And how long can this last?” Dean asks.

“The amount you got hit with? An hour or more?” The angel answers.

Dean is silent and with shaky hands, he tries to stuff himself back into his jeans. But it’s difficult when he’s still rock hard and has shaky hands. The effects of the pollen are hitting like a charging bull and it’s getting very hard to think about anything else but getting fucked.

“I need you to help me back to Baby,” Dean seethes out through his teeth.

He’s not angry, he’s trying to hold himself together until they get back to the car. Cas helps him to his feet but his legs feel like jelly. They get two steps before Dean’s world becomes lopsided and he nearly falls over himself. Without hesitation, Cas picks him up bridal style and jogs all the way back to the car. The entire way there, Dean is panting and he’s sweating. He still can’t think straight and his body feels like it’s on fire.

They both struggle to open the car and Dean falls into the back seats. “Cas get in here!” He shouts, gripping onto the front seat with one hand.

His legs are parted and he’s breathing so heavy it almost looks like he’s about to give birth in the back seat. Cas pokes his head into the car and when he sees the sight of the hunter he can’t help but looked shocked and horrified. Dear god, he got them into this shit. Now he has to fuck his way out of it.

“There’s lube and other shit in the glove box. Jerking me off isn’t going to help me at this point,” Dean confesses.

He watches the angel’s face go wider and redder than it already is and he would make a snarky comment, but he’s too dazed himself to think of something. Cas quickly moves to the passenger seat and digs through the glove box to grab the small bottle of lube that he finds and chucks it back. He also chucks condoms at Dean before he heads around to the back door. Dean doesn’t even notice the condoms as his hands are slipping on the bottle of lube. He just brushes the condoms off him onto the floor as he tries not to black out.

Struggling to open the lube he chucks it at Cas with a “Fuck it,” and begins to try and undo his belt and pants. The bottle smacks Cas right in the face and he retreats back outside of the car holding his face. Dean doesn’t even notice what he’s done as his fingers shake over the belt buckle. Panic starts to set in as the pollen’s hold on his becomes constricting at this point. He feels like he can hardly breathe.

“Help me get these things off!” Dean finally shouts at the angel.

Cas comes back into the car and quickly unbuckles his belt and unzips his jeans. He then pulls Dean’s shoes off aggressively and then tugs with all his might to get Dean’s jeans off. He throws Dean’s legs around as if he’s whipping a horse. It’s an awkward struggle that has both of them swearing their heads off, but Cas pulls Dean’s jeans off and chucks them outside with a little bit of anger to the action.

 Dean is just lucky that this woods is out in the middle of nowhere. No one comes out here, there’s no houses and the entire way along here they didn’t pass anyone. So, they don’t have a problem about someone coming up behind them and seeing the ungodly actions that are about to go on in the back seat of the Impala. Only the creature in this woods would see this if it’s curious enough. But if Dean had to be honest, he could give two shits right now.

Cas pushes Dean back until his head is hitting the car door. The angel comes into the car so he’s leaning over Dean, one knee on the seat and other off it. It’s an awkward fit that has the angel asking himself how the hell did Dean do this in the back here. But Cas gets to and he lathers his fingers with lube generously and pushes Dean’s legs up, so that his ass is on display. Dean wraps his arms around his thighs so that Cas doesn’t have to hold on them for him.  

“Are you-“

Dean cuts the angel short, “Cas I swear to god if you ask me if I’m alright one more time, I’m going to die out of spite. I’m going to start fucking myself if you don’t!”

“Okay,” is all Cas can say.

He presses one finger into the hunter’s ass and Dean groans out from deep in his throat. Cas fingers him at a slow pace but it isn’t enough. It’s doing nothing to satisfy that need that is consuming Dean’s body. Is dick is hard against his stomach and already leaking precum again. He doesn’t want to touch his own dick because of the shock that just ran through him with a finger up his ass.

“Come on,” Dean snaps. “If you’re going to finger me, finger me properly and not like some virgin!”

Cas glares at the hunter but he adds in two more fingers straight, making Dean’s back arch up like some high school virgin. Dean might but desperate, but Cas still doesn’t want to hurt him. But Dean dying is something the angel does not want happening. Cas takes his fingers out and steps back out of the car to take off his coat, jacket and pants. He comes back into the car with on his shirt and tie on and for a split second Dean can appreciate the look. Cas closes the door behind him and gets in position again at the hunter’s ass. He feels kinda exposed having the car door open, his white ass on display for the woods behind him.

Dean watches Cas, needing this angel to hurry the fuck up. The angel pushes Dean’s legs up further with one hand as he strokes himself to a full erection, coating his own cock with lube. Condoms are long forgotten by both of them as the need to get Dean through this becomes first priority. Cas presses his the head of his cock to Dean’s ass and just the thought of it has the hunter panting. He’s about to snap at the angel again when Cas pushes in. Dean’s words get turned into a groan and a moan and another noise that he can’t name. He holds onto his own legs as Cas pulls out and pushes in further again.

It's almost as if Dean can feel everything ten times more than usual. It burns, but like before with each thrust and with each movement it begins to feel good. Soon enough, Cas sinks all the way in and he’s panting himself. Dean clenches down on the angel’s dick and he hears Cas’s breathing hitch slightly. He must be enjoying himself too a little bit as he stays still for a passing minute, letting Dean adjust and catch his breath.   

Cas suddenly moves and sets a quick pace with his hips. It’s a little awkward how he’s positioned in the back seat with one leg off the back seat, but it’ll have to do for now. And it’s working, the tension and the coiling, painful heat in Dean’s gut slowly disappears and turns to pure pleasure. It’s still very overwhelming and has Dean moaning like some virgin with each movement. Dean moves from gripping his legs to grabbing onto Cas’s tie and bring him down close. Cas has to push Dean’s legs open more, moving the left one to his side and off the chair while the other one is hooked over the angel’s shoulder. The new angle sends a new thrill through Dean that has him moaning for more.

“Ca-Cas. Ah, ah,” Dean pants out in the other’s face, not being able to catch his breath.

The angel begins getting caught up in his own little world but the brutal pace is what Dean needs. It’s what this pollen wants. Cas breathes heavily in Dean’s face and it begins to get annoying. He grips the angel’s black hair and brings him down for a sloppy kiss. None of them care for romantics at the moment, it’s pure desperation. The kiss turns to just kissing each other’s faces lazily. Cas travels down to Dean’s neck where he breathes heavily but kisses his hot skin every now and again.

Cas brings a hand down between them and grabs Dean’s cock. The hunter arches his back again and tries to move away from the touch but the angel holds him tightly. Dean holds onto Cas’s shoulder with a deadly grip as he stares upwards at the roof of the car. He’s so close that with only a few strokes of his dick he’s coming again. He clenches down around Cas and the angel stutters in his movements. This time the orgasm is more intense than the first one. His vision goes black for a moment and he thinks he passes out for a couple of seconds. Cause when Dean comes to, Cas is watching him intensely, his body very still against him.

“How are you feeling?” Cas whispers down.

Dean wishes he could say they were done, but the need is still there and his dick isn’t softening. Even though he’s made a mess all over his stomach, he needs more. But his body feels worn and he’s tired. He shakes his head, he doesn’t want to go on. He meets Cas’s blue eyes and holds onto his shoulders tightly.

“It’s- It’s not over, Cas,” Dean pants out.

The angel pulls out and the coil of pain and heat tightens in Dean’s body. The second orgasm did something for the pollen, the effects have lessened but it’s still got a hold of him.  

“I’m tired, Cas. No more,” the hunter begs.

Cas shakes his head. “We have to keep going,” he says bluntly.

Dean shakes his head but he complies and goes along with Cas as he pulls him up into a sitting position. Cas sits down in the middle of the back seat and brings Dean onto his lap. He holds onto Dean tightly, hugging him as the hunter moves along with him. Cas guides his dick back into Dean easily and he sinks down on the angel with a wince and a hiss. He keeps Dean still, letting him readjust.

“You have to come again, Dean,” Cas says in his ear.

Dean swallows thickly. “I think I’m dry,” he says hoarsely.

“You just need to go through the motion of release, we don’t need your seed,” the angel comments bluntly.

“Don’t call it seed,” Dean grimaces. “That just ruins the mood.”

“Sorry.”

“Move. Before I change my mind and have you jerk me off again,” the hunter quickly says as he places both of his hands on Cas’s shoulders.

Cas begins moving, rolling his hips rather than thrusting in and out. It doesn’t satisfy the shivering and hotness inside of Dean so he begins moving his ass up and down. He works through the pain that it brings him. Everything is sensitive and with this new angle Cas is hitting his prostate with each grind. Dean pants and groans as he works through it. Tears prick to his eyes and he has to wipe them away quickly. It’s not as bad as the first couple of times but it’s his third round and his body can’t handle it even though the pollen needs it.

Cas holds Dean’s hips and helps him move when the hunter begins to get tired. The only sound is the steady slap of sweaty skin against skin and Dean panting and groaning. They’re so close together that Dean’s dick grinds against their shirts. It’s enough friction for Dean to feel another painful orgasm building. He buries himself into Cas, his body feeling limp and numb.

‘Stay with me, love,” Cas pants into Dean’s neck.

The hunter opens his eyes, not realizing they were closed. Cas doesn’t stop but he pushes Dean slightly back so he can wrap around his cock again. A burning sear has Dean grabbing his wrist to stop before the hunter even knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t want anything near his dick.

“Dean,” Cas says in a hush. “It’s okay. It’ll be over soon.”

Hesitantly, he let’s go of Castiel’s wrist and grips onto the angel’s shoulders tightly to get through the burning. He can feel the effects of the pollen dying off, but it’s still there making him unwantedly horny.

But fortunately or either unfortunately Cas is able to get a third orgasm out of Dean. It painfully rips through him, and he comes dryly. His dick twitches in Cas’s hand as nothing comes out of it but a small dribble. He clenches down on Cas and that’s enough to tip the angel over the edge after going for so long. Dean’s insides are painted hotly and he would normally find pleasure in it, but right now he feels gross and tired. Cas takes his hand of Dean’s cock and it’s like a relief the hunter didn’t know he could find happiness in. Someone taking their hand off his dick.

“How are you feeling now?” Cas asks while keeping the hunter close to him.

Dean can finally feel his dick softening. The coil and the pain slowly ebbs away and the horniness that pollen was forcing is gone. He brings his hips up until Cas’s softening cock falls out of his ass. He sits down back with a grunt, not caring for the mess in the angel’s lap. He feels like he could sleep for ever.

“I’m fine,” Dean grumbles out. “I just want to sleep for the rest of the day with oily pizza in my hand.”

Cas moves but stops when the hunter shakes his head. The angel stills and waits for a response. Dean leans heavily onto Cas, resting his forehead on the angel’s shoulder.

“Give me a moment, Cas,” the hunter mumbles.

“Okay,” Cas agrees as he begins to draw random shapes and patterns on Dean’s back.

-

Do not steal, plagiarize, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape or form.

Masterlist coming soon

NAV

[oldguardleatherdog]

We Don't Have Nixon To Kick Around Anymore

50 years on from The Resignation, a glancing elegy

On the night of August 8, 1974, as I sat on the big couch in our livingroom with one eye on the TV and the other on the cast on my left arm (another fractured wrist, this time from being last kid standing in a game of Bombardment at 6th grade recess - dodgeball with three balls - I made a heroic dive, felt the sproinggg! as I landed hard, and I knew another trip to Dr. MacFarland was in my near future), I saw the familiar jowls of President Nixon fill the screen on the Zenith, knowing that what Gerald Ford would soon call "our long national nightmare" was about to come to its once unlikely, suddenly imminent end.

For most of 1973 and all of 1974, the Watergate scandal had consumed the nation, crowding out the summer daytime programming (what? no Jeopardy or Concentration or that wild guy from Canada with the 'fro and the stache on a lame game called The Wizard of Odds named Alex Trebek? We had to go outside and play?), making unlikely household names of obscurocrats like John Dean and G. Gordon Liddy and Jeb Stuart Magruder, spawning what we would call memes today featuring Tricky Dick caricatures with endless snorts on Hollywood Squares and Laugh-In, and getting 12-year-old factory town kids engaged with politics in surprising ways (for two years, our Social Studies classes were a hotbed of partisan debate, and I lost ten cents betting on McGovern over Nixon in '72).

We all knew the end was close - the local headlines in giant type screaming "Nixon Resignation is Near" were belaboring the obvious by then - and as the President droned on, I listened for the cue to look at the screen...

"Therefore," - my family and I swiveled our heads in unison - "I shall resign the Presidency effective at noon tomorrow. Vice President Ford will be sworn in as President at that hour in this office."

And just like that, it was over.

The next day, I watched as the Nixons took their final walk across the White House lawn towards the helicopter that would carry them away from Washington and into history, Julie and Tricia and their husbands bearing them up, then the long-suffering Pat who God only knows how she held it together at that scorching, searing moment -

and last, the old crook himself, turning to face the Fords and the gathered staff and America and the world one last time, extending both arms out and up "stiff as a board" as the NBC News anchor remarked, his hands making the peace sign (peace! Jesus Christ, I learned in that instant where irony ended and satire began) in the posture we knew so well, and then just like that, they were gone.

And here we are, half a century hence, my wrist long since healed, wondering how the hell I got old, casting my baleful eye across our miserable mise-en-scène, trying to figure out just where we lost the thread and took the turn that got us back into the same damn jam squared - hell, cubed - and yearning for such a clear-cut, uncomplicated, and decisive ending to our long national nightmare once again.

[Excerpt from the "Checkers Speech", UVA's Miller Center via Vimeo]

[makedatmoneymayne]

Until the (End) of Time?

Dean Winchester x Reader x Castiel

~You and Dean spent a very loyal 5 years together. Or did you?~

Warnings: Cheating, Angst, Cursing, a lil betrayal, a Crumb of fluff, lil smut👀

------------------------------------------------------------

You were out shopping for your fifth anniversary with this man. Like all shopping trips you bring Castiel to have some company. Annoyingly sometimes, he gets real question-y having a LOT of questions to ask about certain foods.

Once you were done shopping you two hopped in your truck riding back home. Castiel sensed a woman but didn't want to tell you, he unknowingly was making this thinking face, before he could straighten up Y/N noticed it.

"What's with the face Cas?" Y/N asks looking at Castiel confused.

"I don't know I'm sensing something, It could just be rain." he said making a random excuse

"Well stop sensing and go chill with Sam in the basement while I surprise Dean." Y/N says excitedly.

You walk into the house seeing Sam on the couch. He's looking at you with wide eyes. Before you could ask what was wrong you heard a rhythmic knocking coming from upstairs. HOPING hell PRAYING it was a demon or something you walk up slowly with a knife ready to attack.

Once you got close to the door you hear moaning, your heart dropped to your ass. You open the door disgusted and shocked with what you saw. Without interrupting you headed straight for the closet, they still didn't notice you.

They were too caught up in there series of "Oh fuck daddy" "You're so wet, you my slut?" that one threw you for a loop and also "I can't get enough of this pussy."

You laughed to yourself finishing up packing your things. You walked back over to the doorway where you finally decide to take one last look. Dean was balls deep in this random woman, them both sweating profusely. They were technically eating each other's faces. You couldn't look anymore, your eyes went to the frame next to the bed that was about to fall and break, of course it was a picture of you and him in your sweaters picking apples. Your eyes went over to the two bodies one last time the girl was panicking seeing you at the doorway.

Dean's slow ass didn't get the hint saying, "Don't run from this dick girl."

You wanted to puke and beat their asses. The girl obviously already knew who you were so if you wanted to whoop ass you could but you decided not to be hostile. Dean snapped his head over at the doorway looking at you immediately with sorrow. Before he can even get himself situated, you slammed the door going straight down stairs.

"Wait! No! Baby wait it mean't nothing." Dean was crying like a fucking loser begging you to stay.

"Dean shut the fuck UP and the fuck are you juss staring for? Get the fuck out before I fuck you up!" You yelled at dean and the girl staring looking dumb.

Sam was confused but Castiel was fully aware smiling. Sam immediately understood what was going on after thinking.

"Dean, how can you be so stupid." Castiel said in his usual stern voice.

"I know, I know I did something dumb. But it was a one time thing I swear!" He was on his knees now looking even more pathetic. He kept saying please don't go over and over.

Sam's mind clicked and remembered for a year straight every weekend, he heard moaning and you weren't home that wasn't just Dean watching porn it was him cheating on you.

"Tell the truth Dean." Sam patted Dean on the shoulder.

"Ask him how long Y/N."

You were going to actually fuck some shit up if you got a dumb answer. "How long Dean."

Dean couldn't take not being called his nickname anymore. "a year.." he whispered out you couldn't make it out at first.

"A Year Y/N." Castiel said shaking his head in fake dissappointment.

"Yeah I'm getting the fuck out of here." You just had to get the fuck on, you couldn't sit here and just accept everything he did and move on in life with him.

You put your stuff in your car and jumped looking behind you. Castiel was right on your tail "I'm coming with you."

You waved at Sam and stuck a middle finger up at Dean still a little sad. Driving off Castiel clears his throat, "I'm so glad that ended the way it did."

"Me too." You guys drove around for a bit them came back to the house around night time. Castiel was confused LIKE USUAL but not for long.

Castiel thought for a moment and then started kissing you. You broke the kiss confused but wanted more QUICKLY. A whole make out session started to happen.

Clothes were coming off and next thing you know yall were fucking right in-front of the house. Castiel had you in doggystyle position in the backseat, fucking you like no tomorrow. You couldn't help but grab Castiel's phone going to Dean's name scrolling but not reading through all 49+ messages he sent going to the camera turning on the video hitting record with the flash.

"I guess we both got secrets." Y/N struggled with her words because Castiel was giving you rough thrusts.

He wasn't paying attention to the camera at first but when he looked up from your ass, he saw the camera and grabbed it still thrusting into you with no problem.

After a while of staring at the phone he figured out how to turn the camera around to capture your sweaty bodies fucking.

"Who fucks you right baby?" He asked before putting the phone in his mouth to record himself gripping you by the waist to fuck you deeper.

"You daddy youu!" Y/N screamed out gripping the door handle as you came all over him and your car.

Castiel was smacking your ass nonstop feeling you tighten around him he was close. He came in you with a growl taking the still recording, taking the phone out his mouth to get the house in the frame before stopping the recording and sending it to Dean. He took his dick out to take a picture of his cum oozing out of her. With the message "I think she likes me😉."

Once Dean read the text he was happy for Castiel, he finally got with his crush. He then opened the video and saw you and before you knew it Dean was running out the door trying to chase after the car as you drove away with Castiel.

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~Castiel's so cute guys~

~Hope you enjoyed!!💗~

[endverse-cas-my-beloved]

I personally don't think that whenever there's the "they get with a curse and suddenly they're in the body of another gender" should really ever change the person's attraction, because I think that implies that sexuality is connected to your biology, and that's a load of crap.

That being said, I think that if you put Dean Winchester in the body of a female Dean would absolutely believe this means he's allowed to be attracted to guys now. Like in his mind, he's still straight, because he's female now, and that means he's supposed to be attracted to guys.

Anyways I just think it would be incredibly funny if he were to turn into a girl and suddenly be on Cas and you could not pull him away. Like he wants that dick so bad (he's always wanted his dick) and he's gotta have it before he turns back because when he turns back he won't want it anymore (he's literally just in denial).

Like Cas is over here rushing to fix Dean back the way he should be because he's so worried Dean is gonna go through one of his impending freak-outs because Cas is aware of how strongly Dean feels about his gender and Dean is just nodding along in the way he usually does when he's absolutely not listening to Cas going, "uh huh, yep, so what I'm hearing is your dick, my mouth now".

He genuinely doesn't freak out about being in this body until Cas eventually (he was stopped at least 7 times by Dean's need to have Cas's dick somewhere in him) finds the cure, and then freaks out because he doesn't want to lose Cas and he's genuinely convinced his sexuality is gonna change back with his body.

Cue Cas actually finally realizing what's going on in Dean's head (he was just so happy Dean finally kissed him and he already doesn't understand anything that goes through that man's head so he just assumed he finally did something right) and he just stops Dean's overthinking and catapults him through the seven stages of bi denial with, "Dean if you switch back I promise you I will have your dick down my throat in five minutes".

Dean has that flash through his eyes and can see Cas on his knees already so clearly that he just goes stupid and is all, "yeah, yep, absolutely let's do that."

They're dating from that point on.

It isn't until 3 months in that Dean actually figured out he's bi though, and he only does because Sam remarks on how much happier he is with Cas now and Dean's all, "Yep, I can't even be upset that curse changed my sexuality. If I'd never been hit by it I wouldn't have ever been able to get with Cas." and Sam goes through the seven stages of "my brother is an idiot" and informs Dean that your sexuality isn't tied to your body.

Dean laughs Sam off because he clearly doesn't know how these things work and it's only after he tells his story to Cas later that day laughing as he's getting changed for bed and Cas doesn't laugh and instead tells Dean that Sam is right that Dean accepts it, but instead of having a normal reaction it's just, "You mean I was allowed to suck your dick this entire time?!"

Cas stares at him going through the seven stages of grief because of his boyfriend keeping them from being together because of stupid, heteronormative thinking finally just sighs, grabs Dean behind the neck as he's just about to put his shirt on, pulls him forward and in the most tired voice he has, that somehow is still totally working for Dean, just goes, "Get on your knees right now."

And Dean shuts up in more than one way immediately.

[lila-lou]

✨High School Sweetheart - Pt 4✨

Summary: You come face-to-face with a ghost from your past—Dean Winchester. Five years after he vanished from your life without a word, and now he´s here. But neither you nor he are teenagers anymore.

-Listen to "Chance with you"-

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Language, Fluff, John being a dick

Word Count: 6498

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

Dean’s eyes sparkled with that familiar mischievous glint, but there was a gentleness beneath it that you hadn’t seen before, a warmth that seemed to speak of all the unspoken things between you. He leaned in a little closer, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he looked down at you.

“Still making me work for it, huh?”, he teased, his tone playful but filled with an affection that felt deeply personal. “I swear, you haven’t changed a bit”.

He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering just a little longer than necessary, the tender gesture sending a wave of warmth through you. “But maybe that’s just part of your charm”, he murmured, his voice dropping even lower, so soft it felt like it was meant only for you. “You always knew how to keep me on my damn toes”.

His gaze never wavered, locked on yours with an intensity that seemed to cut through the noise of the world around you. There was a vulnerability there, a hint of something deeper that he was offering without saying a word. The teasing smirk softened, his eyes reflecting the weight of everything he was trying to convey, all the words he hadn’t said back then and the feelings that had lingered, just waiting for this moment.

“Think you might give me another chance to make a few new memories?”, he asked softly, the question hanging in the air, equal parts hopeful and sincere.

You felt a spark of excitement mingling with a sudden wave of nerves, the mixture leaving you a bit breathless. Dean’s presence, his soft teasing, his gaze that seemed to reach right through you—it was overwhelming in the best way, but the memory of yesterday lingered. You took a shaky breath, letting your fingers brush against his hand before you tilted your head up to meet his gaze, a little smile tugging at your lips despite your nerves.

“What about that whole goodbye yesterday?”, you asked, raising an eyebrow, hoping the question might mask just how giddy you felt inside. “I thought you were out of here, off to some other town by now”.

Before Dean could answer, Sam, who was still deeply engrossed in his book, piped up with a deadpan comment, not even bothering to lift his eyes from the page. “Oh, we’re sticking around for a few more days”, he mumbled, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Dean’s a little too… distracted to focus on the case right now”.

Dean shot Sam a glare, though he couldn’t hide the faint blush that crept up his neck. “Thanks, Sammy. Real subtle”.

Sam still didn’t even look up, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he flipped another page. “Hey, someone’s gotta point out the obvious”, he said, shrugging casually. “Otherwise, we’ll be here forever while you pretend it’s all about ‘research’”.

Dean groaned, rolling his eyes. “Real funny, Sam. I’m just trying to… handle things”, he said. But Sam wasn’t done.

“Yeah, ‘handle things’. That what we’re calling it now?”, Sam finally looked up, his grin unrepentant. “Pretty sure this case could’ve been wrapped up yesterday if someone hadn’t been, you know..”.

Dean looked ready to retort, but you cut in, suppressing a laugh. “Well, I’m glad he’s sticking around for the ‘case’”, you teased, raising an eyebrow at Dean. “Though, maybe Sam’s right. Wouldn’t want you to get too… distracted”.

Sam’s laughter bubbled up as he leaned back in the armchair, clearly enjoying every moment of Dean’s embarrassment. “See, she gets it”, he said, winking at you. “Guess I’ll just take the lead on the case. Let you two ‘handle things’ in the meantime”.

Dean gave an exasperated sigh, but there was no hiding the smile that played on his lips as he shot his brother a look. “Fine. You get point on the case”, he grumbled, “but I swear, one more comment out of you and you’re sleeping in the car”.

“Worth it”, Sam replied, unfazed, his grin wide.

Then, Sam stood up, holding up a book he’d clearly deemed useful, and looked at you with a casual, “How much?”. But before he could reach for his wallet, you shook your head gently, a small smile on your lips as you looked between the two brothers.

“It’s on the house”, you murmured, “if your brother agrees to get those milkshakes with me”.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, surprised but clearly pleased, his smirk quickly replacing his stunned expression. “Well, that sounds like a deal to me”, he replied, shooting Sam a triumphant look. “Milkshakes it is”.

Sam rolled his eyes with a good-natured sigh, tossing Dean a look that said, I knew this was coming. “I’ll wait in the car”, he said, clearly amused by the whole situation. He held the book up in a half-hearted salute, then headed toward the door, the bell above jingling as he stepped outside.

Dean watched his brother leave, rolling his eyes but smiling to himself. As the door closed, he turned back to you, the teasing smirk gone, replaced by something softer, more genuine.

“So”, he said, his voice warm and almost hesitant, “guess we’re on for those milkshakes?”.

You felt your heart skip a beat, but you nodded, feeling a quiet excitement settle over you. “Guess so”, you replied, your smile mirroring his.

Dean shifted slightly, hands finding their way into his pockets, his gaze never wavering from yours as he spoke. “Well… when do you close up here?”, he asked, his tone casual but his eyes carrying that unmistakable spark of anticipation. “Figure I can come back and pick you up”.

You glanced at the clock on the wall, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you looked back at him. “I’ll be done around six”, you replied, feeling a little thrill run through you at the thought of him coming back, of sharing a night out with him like old times.

Dean nodded, that familiar grin breaking through. “Alright, I’ll be here”, he said, his voice warm with certainty. He took a small step back, as if giving you space but still keeping close enough to make it clear he wasn’t in a hurry to leave. “Guess I’ll see you at six, then”.

“Looking forward to it”, you replied, your voice softer than you intended, but you couldn’t help it. The easy charm in his smile, the way he looked at you—it all made it impossible to hide your excitement.

He hesitated for a moment, then gave you a final, lingering look before heading toward the door. “See you soon”, he said, the words carrying a promise. With one last grin, he stepped out, leaving the door to chime softly in his wake.

Back in the car, Sam was already nose-deep in the book he’d picked up from your shop, eyes scanning the pages as he began to mutter. “Alright, I think I might have a lead here. Looks like there’s something about local lore—could be tied to a spirit or curse”. He continued to flip through the pages, his voice growing more animated as he pieced together the clues. But a few moments later, he glanced up, quickly realizing that Dean’s focus was nowhere near the case.

Dean was leaning back in the driver’s seat, staring out the windshield with a faint smile on his face, his gaze distant and his expression soft. Sam raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes as he closed the book slightly to get his brother’s attention.

“Earth to Dean”, Sam said, nudging his shoulder. “I’m over here talking about the case, and you’re clearly somewhere else”.

Dean blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, but the smirk on his face didn’t fade. “Huh? Oh, yeah, the case. Ghosts and… stuff”. He shrugged, clearly trying to play it off, though he wasn’t fooling Sam in the slightest.

Sam rolled his eyes, leaning back with an exasperated sigh. “You’re seriously gone, aren’t you?”, he teased, crossing his arms as he watched Dean with a knowing grin. “Don’t think I’ve seen you this distracted since—well, probably since the last time you saw her”.

Dean tried to hide his grin, but the blush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “Can you blame me?”, he muttered, glancing out the window as if trying to avoid Sam’s teasing look. “I mean… she’s different. Always was”.

Sam’s expression softened slightly, his teasing tone fading as he nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I know”, he said quietly, giving Dean a small, supportive smile. “Guess it’s about time you got a second chance, huh? Without… dad being a dick about it”.

Dean looked toward Sam, his expression shifting as a flicker of something unspoken passed between them. He knew Sam was right—this was a second chance, a rare one in their lives. The memory surfaced then, unbidden, of the last time he’d felt this strongly, back when he’d snuck into the motel after that first night with you, only to find his father waiting, disapproval practically radiating off him.

-Flashback-

The motel was silent as Dean carefully turned the doorknob, hoping to sneak back in unnoticed. He was exhausted, still floating in the quiet afterglow of the night he’d spent with you, and all he wanted was a few hours of sleep before facing another day of the usual grind. But as he stepped inside, he froze. John was sitting at the small table by the window, a cup of coffee in hand, his eyes dark and cold as he stared at his son.

Dean swallowed, knowing immediately that he wasn’t getting off easy. He barely managed to shut the door before John spoke, his voice low and laced with that familiar edge of disappointment.

"Where the hell have you been, Dean?", John’s tone wasn’t just accusatory—it was dismissive, as if he already knew the answer and couldn’t bring himself to care about anything other than his own frustration. "Out wasting time, doing God-knows-what? Thought you were better than some lovesick idiot chasing after a girl".

Dean clenched his jaw, every muscle in his body tense. "Just needed some air", he muttered, trying to downplay it, hoping that would be enough. But John wasn’t having it.

"Air, huh?", John scoffed, standing up and moving closer, his presence filling the small room. "You're supposed to be focused, Dean. Not out there making a fool of yourself over some girl". The way he spat out the word "girl" made it clear how little he thought of you—or anyone outside their world.

Dean felt his fists clench, a sharp pang of anger shooting through him. "I know my priorities, Dad", he replied, his voice controlled but barely hiding the frustration he felt.

"Doesn’t look like it", John shot back, his voice growing louder. "You’ve got responsibilities. You think any girl out there is gonna understand that? Gonna put up with our life?". He shook his head, a harsh laugh escaping him. "No, Dean, you’re fooling yourself. And you’re wasting your damn time. Love is for idiots who can afford it".

The noise stirred Sam, who was asleep in the bed. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, clearly disoriented. "What’s going on?".

"Nothing", John snapped, shooting a glare at Sam. "Just your brother learning the hard way that our family doesn’t get to have normal lives. We don’t get to waste time on pointless things". He turned his gaze back to Dean, his expression hard and unyielding. "You’re gonna end up just like me, Dean. Chained to this life because it’s all you’ll ever have".

The words hit Dean like a punch to the gut, and for a second, he felt every bit the "lovesick kid" his father accused him of being. He wanted to argue, to push back, to tell John he was wrong. But the weight of his father’s expectations, of the life they’d been handed, pressed down on him, leaving him feeling trapped and small.

As John finally walked away, heading to the bathroom without another word, Sam looked at Dean, his eyes wide with sympathy and quiet understanding.

“Dean…”, Sam began, his voice tentative, but Dean shook his head, silencing his brother. He didn’t want Sam’s sympathy. He didn’t want to admit that John’s words had gotten to him, that they’d dug deep into his insecurities.

“Go back to sleep, Sammy”, Dean mumbled, his voice thick, trying to bury everything he felt.

-End of the Flashback-

Dean let out a quiet sigh, his gaze distant as he thought about that night, about how he’d felt torn between his father’s expectations and his own desire for something real, something normal. Sitting here now, next to Sam, he realized just how different things could be now, with John gone and the two of them forging their own path.

“Guess I don’t have to worry about Dad breathing down my neck this time”, Dean said softly, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, well, Dad’s not here to tell you what you can’t do”, Sam replied quietly, his tone both gentle and encouraging. “So maybe… it’s time to focus on what you actually want”.

Dean let Sam’s words sink in. For years, every choice he’d made, every relationship he’d considered, had always been shaped by his father’s voice in the back of his mind. But now? There was no rulebook.

“Maybe”, Dean murmured, looking out the window as if he could already see a new path forming before him. He gave a wry smile, finally meeting Sam’s gaze. “Didn’t think you’d be my life coach, Sammy, but… thanks”.

Sam shrugged, that familiar teasing smirk returning. “Don’t mention it. Just try not to screw this up, alright?”, he joked, though there was real warmth behind the words.

Dean laughed, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement settle in his chest. He knew what he wanted—to be with you, at least for now, without worrying about where it might lead or how it might end. It was a freedom he hadn’t felt in a long time, and it filled him with a renewed sense of purpose.

A few hours later, Dean found himself in tiny bathroom of the motel, carefully trimming his beard with a level of precision he usually reserved for his Impala’s engine. The air was thick with his familiar cologne, the rich, woodsy scent mixing with the stale air of the cramped bathroom. He traced his jawline with his fingertips, checking the results in the mirror.

Just then, Sam appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, a wide, amused grin spreading across his face.

Dean caught sight of Sam’s reflection in the mirror and groaned, already anticipating the ribbing he was about to get. He turned off the trimmer, setting it down.

“Well, I’d say you look a little too good for just ‘milkshakes’, don’t you think?”, Sam teased, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. His gaze dropped pointedly to Dean’s chest, which was notably smoother than usual.

Dean shot him a mock glare, though a slight blush crept up his neck. “Give it a rest, Sammy”, he muttered, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head a little too quickly, as if that might cover up both the grooming and his embarrassment. “Nothing wrong with looking decent once in a while”.

“Decent? Dean, you shaved your damn chest. Just admit it—you’re trying to impress her”.

Dean rolled his eyes, looking down at the red flannel in his hands with a hint of frustration. He didn’t have anything particularly nice to wear—nothing that screamed “date night” instead of “hunter”. Besides his usual gear, the only remotely formal outfit he owned was the standard FBI getup he kept stashed for cases. The thought crossed his mind that it would’ve been nice to have something a little different, something that didn’t reek of constant travel, hunts, and long hours on the road.

With a resigned sigh, he slipped into the flannel over his black T-shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. It wasn’t flashy, but at least it was him. He caught his reflection in the mirror, his expression softening, and he mumbled almost to himself, “Just don’t want her to think… bad of me, you know?”.

Sam’s smirk softened into a small, understanding smile. “Dean”, he murmured, his voice carrying that brotherly reassurance, “She’s known you since high school. You looked the same back then”.

Dean scoffed lightly, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah, well, I was hoping I’d improved a little since then”, he replied, though the tension in his voice had softened. “It’s been a while, Sammy”.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “Trust me, she’s not interested in the clothes or the cologne, Dean. She’s interested in you”. He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. “And honestly, I think she’s already pretty into you, flannel and all”.

Dean ran a hand over his face, the trace of a blush still visible. “Guess it’s not like I’ve got a whole lot of options anyway”, he muttered, but Sam could hear the hint of nerves in his tone—the rare, genuine excitement that Dean hadn’t shown in a long time.

Sam clapped a hand on his shoulder, giving him a small smile. “You’re gonna be fine. Just… be yourself”.

Dean groaned, rolling his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair, feeling like he was 18 all over again, back in those early days when he’d first met you. “Be myself”, he muttered, shaking his head. “That’s what I’m worried about”.

Sam chuckled, leaning back with a knowing look. “Yeah, but it worked back then, didn’t it? Flannel, leather jacket, that same cocky smile… trust me, Dean, it’s part of the package”.

Dean let out a reluctant laugh, but there was a hint of warmth there, too. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”.

“I try”, Sam replied, grinning. “Now, go on—don’t keep her waiting”.

Dean took a steadying breath, letting himself absorb the moment, that nervous energy thrumming beneath the surface. “Fine, fine”, he muttered, grabbing his jacket and tossing Sam a smirk as he headed toward the door. “Just don’t get too cozy in the motel room without me, alright?”.

Sam’s laugh echoed behind him as Dean stepped outside, each step bringing him closer to that familiar flutter of excitement and nerves he hadn’t felt in ages. He couldn’t believe it—he was actually nervous.

Dean drove through town toward your bookstore, his fingers tapping the wheel rhythmically as he tried to calm his nerves. It wasn’t like him to feel this jittery over a simple outing, but with you, it felt like so much more than just milkshakes.

When he finally pulled up outside your shop, you greeted him with a warm smile as you slid into the passenger seat. He could feel his heart pick up as you buckled in, your presence somehow amplifying his nerves and excitement all at once.

After a few minutes, you glanced at him, biting your lip as you hesitated before asking, “Hey, would you mind making a quick stop at my apartment? I just want to freshen up a bit”.

Dean glanced over, caught off guard by the question. His instinct was to say there was no need—he thought you looked perfect already, but he wasn’t quite sure how to say that without sounding too forward. Instead, he fumbled slightly, scratching the back of his neck. “Oh, uh, sure. I mean, you… you don’t have to or anything. You look great”. His words tumbled out in an awkward rush, and he added, “But yeah, if you want, of course. No problem”.

You smiled, clearly amused by his flustered response, and gave him the directions. The short drive to your apartment was filled with light conversation, but he could sense the undercurrent of anticipation between you both. As he parked outside, he cleared his throat, giving you a little grin as you got out. “I’ll be here”, he said, trying to keep his tone casual.

“Come on, Dean, you can wait upstairs”, you teased. “No more parents around”. You gave him a wink, which had him chuckling awkwardly, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

He cleared his throat, feigning nonchalance as he stepped out of the car to follow you up, but his mind was already wandering back to those sneaking-around days and you both had been a little less lucky…

-Flashback-

It was early morning, the sunlight streaming through the window brighter than either of you had planned for. Dean blinked himself awake, his arm draped over you, only to realize with a jolt that you’d both overslept. “Crap”, he muttered under his breath, easing himself out of bed as quietly as he could manage.

You were still drowsy, wrapped up in a blanket, a sleepy smile on your face as you watched him stumble around, pulling on his jeans and grabbing his boots. You knew the drill by now—Dean’s early exits were routine, sneaking out before your parents could suspect anything. But today, you both miscalculated.

Dean had just tied one boot and was reaching for the other when the door creaked open. He froze, his eyes wide, and you quickly pulled the blanket tighter around you, but it was too late.

Your mom stood there, taking in the scene with an expression that was both shocked and… slightly amused.

Your mom crossed her arms, giving him a pointed look, and then turned her gaze to you, arching a brow. “Good morning. I didn’t realize we had… company”.

You bit your lip, scrambling for something, anything, to say, but the words just wouldn’t come. She raised an eyebrow, glancing down at her watch with a slightly exasperated smile. “Shouldn’t you have been out of the window, say… two hours ago?”.

Your eyes went wide, and you glanced at Dean, whose face mirrored your expression of pure disbelief. Neither of you had expected this; for all the times he’d snuck in and out, you’d never imagined she’d known about it.

“Wait”, Dean stammered, looking between you and your mom, “you… you knew?”.

Your mom gave a half-sigh, half-smile, crossing her arms with a look that was almost amused. “A mother knows when her daughter’s sneaking someone in”. she said matter-of-factly. “I let it slide because… well, I had my suspicions that it was just you two being young and… figuring things out”. She glanced pointedly at Dean’s boots on the floor, then back at you. “But you’d better hope your dad never catches you, because he’s nowhere near as… understanding”.

Your cheeks burned, and you could barely look up at Dean, who was still frozen in place. But, as mortifying as it was, there was a warmth to her tone, an unspoken acknowledgment that somehow, she understood. It softened the edge of the embarrassment, though only slightly.

Dean managed a small smile, one that held a hint of sheepishness. “I, uh… appreciate the heads-up, ma’am”.

She gave him a look that was both stern and kind. “Just be smart”, she replied, giving you both one last glance before she turned to leave, muttering, “And next time… maybe set an alarm”.

The door closed, and the two of you sat in stunned silence for a moment before you both burst into nervous laughter, the shared shock and relief pulling you closer.

-End of the Flashback-

Standing in your apartment now, you looked back at Dean, the memory filling the space between you. Dean chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Guess we weren’t as sneaky as we thought”, he murmured, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart skip.

You chuckled, feeling the warmth rise in your cheeks again. “Yeah, guess we were a little obvious, huh?”, you said, shaking your head as the memory settled between you both. It felt strangely comforting, this shared history that only the two of you truly understood.

Dean’s grin softened, his gaze lingering on you with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. “Well, at least we’re a little older now”, he teased, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the doorframe. “No more sneaking out windows or dodging your mom”.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “Right. Now it’s just dodging Sam’s smart comments”, you joked, but there was an undeniable sweetness beneath your words.

Dean’s gaze drifted around your apartment, taking in the small details that made it feel so distinctly you—the cozy throw draped over the couch, the collection of books stacked in one corner, the faint scent of vanilla lingering in the air. He paused in front of a framed family picture on a nearby shelf, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips as he looked at it.

“How’s your mom?”, he asked softly, his tone gentle, as if the question held a dozen other questions he hadn’t quite figured out how to ask yet.

You stepped beside him, following his gaze to the photo. It was a snapshot from a family picnic years ago, your mom’s arm around you, both of you laughing at some long-forgotten joke. A rush of warmth and nostalgia filled you, mingling with the lingering nervous excitement of having Dean here, in your space, sharing these memories with you.

“She’s good”, you replied, a fond smile slipping onto your face. “Still looking out for me, always asking if I’ve ‘met any nice boys’ lately”. You gave him a playful nudge, rolling your eyes at the memory. “Not sure what she’d say if she knew I was spending time with… well, you again”.

Dean chuckled, but his expression softened, a hint of warmth in his gaze as he looked at you. “Guess I didn’t leave the best impression back then, huh?”. There was a flicker of something like regret in his eyes, but he brushed it off quickly, his gaze settling back on you. “Even though I liked her… a lot”, he murmured, almost to himself, like he was processing the weight of his own memories. His gaze dropped for a moment, a flicker of nostalgia and maybe even a touch of regret lingering there.

You raised an eyebrow, looking up at him with an incredulous smile. “You’re kidding, right?”, you chuckled, nudging him lightly. “Dean, she loved you. At least every two months, she’s sitting with me and Dad at dinner, looking all thoughtful and sighing, ‘I bet you and Dean would’ve given me a grandchild by now’”.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, his mouth dropping open slightly before he let out a surprised laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly caught off guard. “Seriously? She said that?”. He grinned, a little self-conscious, but you could see the hint of pride in his expression, like he hadn’t expected to have left that kind of impression on her.

“Every time”, you affirmed, laughing as you thought back to the countless times your mom had brought him up. “It’s like, no matter how much time passes, she just can’t let go of the idea that you and I were supposed to… I don’t know, end up together or something”.

You looked up at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “You won her over on Halloween”, you murmured, remembering that night vividly.

-Flashback-

Halloween night had settled in with the chill of autumn, pumpkins lit on doorsteps and a hint of wood smoke in the air. Your dad was out of town, as he often was, leaving just you and your mom to keep up the Halloween traditions. You’d promised her a cozy movie night, just the two of you with popcorn, cookies, and your favorite horror flicks.

When Dean asked if you’d wanted to see a movie with him, the thought of slipping away for a bit had been tempting. But you hesitated, mumbling, “I promised my mom I’d stay in tonight. She’s got this whole thing planned—snacks, homemade cookies. I just… I don’t want to leave her alone, you know?”.

Dean’s face softened in understanding, a warmth in his tone that took you by surprise. “Yeah, I get it”, he said, nodding as if he genuinely respected that. He’d never quite been used to this kind of affection or tradition, but he could see how much it meant to you.

You bit your lip, feeling a bit shy as you added, “And… Actually… She sort of asked if you were planning on sneaking in again tonight or… if you’d want to come by a little earlier. Through the front door this time”. You glanced up at him, nerves fluttering in your stomach. “She said she wouldn’t mind getting to know you… you know, officially”.

Dean blinked, taken aback for a moment, a faint blush creeping up his neck. But then a small smile broke through, soft and genuine. “Yeah?”, he murmured, surprised but clearly pleased. “Well, I could do that. I mean… if you’re sure she’s okay with it?”.

You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “She’s more than okay with it. She was… well, I think she’s actually a little curious about the guy I keep sneaking around with”.

Dean chuckled, the sound warm and a bit bashful. “Alright, then. I guess I’ll bring my best manners”. There was a glimmer of humor in his eyes, but you could tell that underneath it, he was touched by the invitation.

A couple of hours later, Dean stood on your front porch, fidgeting slightly as he smoothed down his jacket, looking more nervous than ever. When you opened the door, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him standing there, his usual bravado softened into something more real, more earnest.

As you led him into the cozy warmth of your home, the aroma of freshly baked cookies greeted him. Your mom appeared in the kitchen doorway, a warm smile lighting up her face as she wiped her hands on a towel. “So, Dean was it, right?”, she said, her tone welcoming but curious. She extended her hand, and he shook it, his smile both charming and a little shy.

“Yes, ma’am”, he replied, his voice respectful, clearly wanting to make a good impression.

Your mom chuckled softly as she looked him over, her eyes bright with curiosity and a hint of approval. “ma'am? Uhh, I like him”, she mused aloud, turning to you with a playful smile before looking back at Dean. “I like you, Dean! You’ve got good manners”. She winked, clearly enjoying herself, making Dean shift a bit under the unexpected praise, but his grin didn’t falter.

“Thank you, ma’am”, Dean replied, his voice genuinely grateful.

Your mom led you both toward the kitchen, where the smell of warm cider filled the air. She grabbed three mugs, filling them with the steaming drink before setting them on the table. “I made this batch a little special”, she said with a conspiratorial grin. “Added a touch of something stronger—don’t worry, Dean, in Europe you’re well within the drinking age”, she winked. “Helps with the Halloween chill”.

Dean chuckled, his eyes lighting up as he took the warm mug from her hands. “Well, can’t say no to that”, he said, looking at you with a playful smirk before taking a sip. The taste was warm, spiced, and a little sharper than he expected, but he took it in stride, enjoying the drink and the friendly welcome.

The three of you settled around the kitchen table, and your mom wasted no time in asking Dean questions about his life, his family, and his interests. She listened with genuine interest, her gaze flicking between you and Dean with a subtle smile. You could tell she was pleased, maybe even relieved, to see the two of you together like this, as if her instincts about him had been right all along.

As the evening went on, Dean’s natural charm and respectful demeanor had your mom fully captivated. Even though he had to be careful about what he shared, steering away from the supernatural realities of his life, he answered her questions with an easy politeness that felt genuine. He spoke about his love of cars, a few of his favorite bands, and, without meaning to, started talking about you.

Every time he mentioned your name, there was a softness in his voice that didn’t go unnoticed by your mom. He described the way you’d sneak out for late-night talks, how you could make him laugh no matter what was going on, and his voice took on a rare tenderness when he looked your way. It was clear he was speaking from a place of true admiration and respect, and he had your mom completely wrapped around his finger, though he didn’t seem aware of it.

Your mom beamed, clearly enjoying every bit of his stories. “Well”, she said with a warm smile, looking between you and Dean, “it sounds like you two have been getting along just fine. And you know, Dean, I’m glad she has a friend like you around. She’s always been independent, but it’s good to know there’s someone watching out for her”.

Dean glanced at you, his gaze lingering for a moment, as if he was still taking in the fact that he was here, being welcomed like this. “She’s something special”, he said, almost to himself, his voice carrying a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat.

Your mom smiled, nodding. “I can see that”, she replied, looking at you with a proud, knowing expression before shifting her gaze back to Dean. “And you’re welcome here anytime, Dean”.

-End of the Flashback-

Dean took a deep breath, grounding himself back in the present as the warm memory faded, leaving behind a bittersweet ache. He looked around your apartment, taking in the familiar comfort of your space, and he felt that same warmth from years ago, the kind that made him feel at home in a way he rarely did.

You caught him staring at the family photo again, a soft smile pulling at your lips as you noticed the look of nostalgia in his eyes. “It’s nice, isn’t it? Having these memories”.

Dean nodded, his gaze meeting yours, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah”, he murmured. “It is”.

The silence between you felt heavy but comforting, filled with words left unsaid and memories that spoke for themselves. There was something in Dean’s eyes that made you feel like he was seeing you as that teenager all over again—the girl he’d climbed through windows for.

“Didn’t think of them for a while tho”, Dean mumbled, his gaze still fixed on the family photo, though his mind was miles away. His voice held a quiet vulnerability, as if he were opening a door he’d kept closed for years, trying to keep those memories and all they meant at arm’s length.

You moved a little closer, your presence grounding him as he stood there, shoulders slightly slouched, a small, soft smile pulling at his lips despite himself. “It’s strange, but… it feels like it hasn’t been that long since—well, since all of this”.

You felt the weight of his words, sensing that he wasn’t just talking about your apartment or even the past itself but something deeper, something that still connected the two of you. There was a warmth in his eyes, a lingering reminder of that young man he’d been, and the version of yourself that had found something so real in him, even when everything else was uncertain.

“Maybe some things are worth remembering”, you said softly, meeting his gaze and letting the words hang in the air.

Dean nodded, his eyes holding yours, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah”. he replied, his voice barely a whisper, filled with a sincerity that made your heart flutter. “Some things definitely are”.

The quiet, unspoken understanding between you felt like a fragile bridge, connecting who you were then with who you were now.

Before the moment could deepen, you took a small step back, feeling the intensity of the conversation settle over you like a warm but slightly overwhelming blanket. “I’m just… gonna head to the bathroom real quick”, you murmured, offering a shy smile. “Make yourself at home”.

Dean gave you a quick nod, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “Will do”, he replied, watching as you slipped away. He took a deep breath, looking around your apartment once more with a sense of reverence, noticing all the small details that made it so distinctly yours.

As you closed the bathroom door, you leaned against it for a moment, catching your breath. The quiet excitement of having him here, of feeling the past rush back with such clarity, filled you with a thrill that was both comforting and new. You could still feel the warmth of his gaze, the sense that no matter how many years had passed, there was still something alive between you, something that neither time nor distance had managed to erase.

Meanwhile, Dean took in the space around him, glancing at your bookshelf, running his fingers along the spines of well-loved novels, and finding little reminders of who you’d grown into. He smiled to himself, feeling at home in a way he hadn’t in a long time, as if this space held all the things that had been missing from his life on the road.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

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Part 5

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Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @globetrotter28

[paarthurnax59]

“Never to be”

images is not mine (Also,I know I suck at this, so bare with me)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader( unrequited), Reader X ???

Summary: Dean left you for Lisa and Ben after Sam fell into the pit, told you to never contact him again, among other cruel remarks on his part. Years later you moved on, starting your own life and finally meeting a man who truly loves and cares for you. What happens when your past comes back to invade your present and tries to jeopardize your future.

warnings; Super angst (but with a happy ending), Dean's a major dick, swearing, slight physical violence, reader feeling low self-esteem.

words: 2280

Just so you know, I know Dean would not act like this, it's just a fic. if you don't like it, please do not engage if this kind of content is too sensitive for you. there will be five parts to this story. I don't own any of these canon characters. they belong to their respective owners.

part 1

May, 2010

“Dean, what are you doing?” You questioned Dean as he stopped the Impala by the Laurance Bus Station in the middle of the night. Dean said nothing, not even looking at you as he got out the car and went to his trunk and pulled out a tote bag. He proceeded to come to your door for you.

“Get out.” He said coldly as you looked up at him with confusion on your face.

“What, Why?” You asked as you still sat in his car shocked that Dean was acting as cold as he was right now. You would understand due to the fact he had just lost his brother, forever. A person he had looked after and promised to protect since he was four years old. That would make anyone act the way Dean was right now. The weird part was why was he acting this way towards you. Like you were a pest he needed to be rid of to find peace.

“I want you to leave, (Name). Isn’t it obvious?” Grunted and took your arm and pulled you out of the passenger seat roughly, making your legs stumble out of his car. You heart rate went up drastically when you nearly fell form how Dean was pulling you out of the car.

“Why?! I don’t understand, Dean.” You whispered with shaky, heavy breathing looking up at his burning gaze staring down at you with an what looked like, an amused smirk.

“Do I need to spell it out for you, (Last name)? I don’t want you around anymore. I am going to go live with Lisa and Ben, and I don’t need some little girl that follows me around like a helpless lost puppy.” He spat out his venomous words while your face started to become pale as the blood started to leave your face.

“Dean…we have hunted with each other for years. You have known me since I was five. You can’t just kick me out of your life like we didn’t mean anything.” You heartbrokenly explained to the angry man in front of you. Sure, Dean wasn’t always your biggest fan. You were more of a friend of Sam’s then of Dean’s. Sam was about seven years older than you and Dean being elven years older. Despite your age gap, you and Sam got a long great. Watched movies together, go running, and do night-long research. You two were thick as thieves, and when he died, you felt like a part of you died with him. Hoping Dean would fill that void, he would become what you wanted and you two could live out your life together. Over time, aside his dislike for you, you had fallen in love with Dean, and hoped he had felt the same.

Boy, were you wrong.

“Can’t I? Sam’s no longer here, honey. Which means that I don’t have a reason to have you in my life. So, get on that bus and we can finally part ways and I don’t have to keep you dragging along.” Dean got closer to you and you took a step back, fearing what the hunter would do. He dropped the large tote bag right at your feet while giving you a hard scowl.

“Dean, you are grieving. You just lost Sam, and I can imagine that pain you are going through. I feel it and I miss him, too. He deserved so much better than what he got. But making me leave is not going to make you feel better.” You try to reason with the older Winchester, but all he did was just got angrier and then pulled your hair by its root and forced you to look up at him and screamed from the pain Dean was inflicting on you.

“Kid, Sam was the only reason I ever tolerated you on our hunts in the first place. If he were not part of it, I would have dumped you at any bus station and get you as far away from me as humanly possible.” He confessed through gritted teeth with his hand still griping into your hair. You felt like you were going to be sick with what Dean was saying. He never liked you? Not even as a friend? “I don’t need to be a perpetual babysitter for some scared, little girl on hunts when I can go live with a very beautiful woman and have a happy monster free life.” He grunted again as tears started to stream down your face with Dean’s cruel words started to sink in. He thinks you are a coward?

“Dean, let me go. You’re hurting me.” You cry as Dean refused to give in to your demands.

“No. You need to listen and listen good, sweetheart. I had promised Sam that I would drop hunting all together and live a normal life with Lisa. He didn’t say anything about promising to look after you. You’re a grown ass woman and you can defend yourself. I don’t need to baby you and most certainly don’t need you in my life. Hell, I never needed your sorry ass to begin with. Me and Sammy were doing just fine without you and I can live my life without you always being a clingy, needy and never letting me have my space. I’m tired of it and of you. I’m exhausted of having to take care of you, looking out for you and protecting you, when I should have been protecting Sammy and my friends, people that I care about.” He said with not an ounce of remorse in his voice. The more Dean told you how little you meant to him, the more your heart broke. Was it true? Were you nothing more than a burden to Dean? Did the time you spent together mean nothing to him and Sam? What if Sam felt the same way? What would Sam say if he were here? Would he agree and tell you to leave?

“Once you get on that bus, I am leaving for Lisa, a gorgeous woman who is far more deserving of my time and my companionship than some girl that can barely fight for herself. I’m going to leave this life and everything behind, especially you. You are nothing more than a useless, stupid bitch that had been nothing but a burden from day one. Getting kidnaped by werewolves, almost eaten by vampires, I had to watch the people I love die, like Jo and Ellen because they told me to go and protect you. They are dead because of you!” He accused you as he threw you aside, with you nearly falling to your feet. You try to catch your breath while trying to not let Dena’s horrible cruel remarks get to you. He knows how much Jo and Ellen’s death weighed on you. You were very close with both women, and it hurt so much to see them die like they did. Like Sam, they never deserved a fate like that. You never once believed it was your fault, until Dean that night told you that Jo and Ellen had made Dean promised to protect you. Which is why he focused more on you than the others.  Since then, Dean had held a horrible grudge against you. He blamed you for his friends’ deaths. You often wonder if he would trade your life for them in a heartbeat. Knowing how much Dean hated you, he most defiantly would. As the air grew cold and brittle, Dean held out his hand as he glowered at you. “Give me your cellphone.” He demanded while importantly holding out his hand to you.

“Why?” you asked and then Dean’s blood really boiled more as you kept making him wait.

“Just do it!” He yelled and you did as he asked and grabbed your phone and placed it in his hand. Dean then dropped it and proceeded to smash it with his foot on to your phone, making the sight made you gasp in shock, Dean continued to smash your phone repeatedly until it was broken into hundreds of tiny pieces.

“Why did you do that!? That was my only phone!” You yelled with hot angry tears streaming down your face. Had Dean lost his mind?

“So you don’t try to contact me or anyone else I may care about. I don’t want nor do I need to hear from you again. You made me sacrifice my friends and my brother’s lives for you and so many others before them. The least you can do is never contact me again and get on that bus to wherever the hell it’s going because I am done throwing my life away for you. If you want to die on a hunt, be my guest! I don’t need you dragging me ever again.” He huffed out with so much anger and hatred, you wanted to die right then and there. Never in your wildest dreams did you think Dean hated you this much. It was killing you just hearing these horrible things being said to you by a man you once called a friend. “Once more, you can’t put Bobby, Jody, or anyone else’s life in danger because of you. You’re not worth it, princess! You never were! So why don’t you just take that fucking bag yours, get on that fucking bus and get the hell out of my life!”

 You paused for one moment, still trying to process at what Dean was telling you. That he never cared, nor did he see you as anything but a damn burden and deadweight. Hell, he would probably dance on your ashes if you were to die the next day. After everything you went through, after everything you had sacrificed to help the boys stop Lucifer from ending the world, you think Dean would have acknowledge some tender emotions for you. Not as a lover, but as a friend or a sister maybe. No, instead all you received was a deep seeded hatred that was birthed only from the very notion that you weren’t good enough for the great Dean Winchester.

With a very heavy heart and cascading tears, you did as Dean said and picked up your bag and threw the strap over your shoulders and walked to the bus station. Dean watched with a stoic expression as you walked away from him. Walking up to the bus as the driver opened the doors for you.

“Where to, miss?” The white old man asked with a kind smile as he looked at you. You then looked behind you and looked at Dean one last time and saw that his hatful scowl on his face had never left and folded his arms in a way that screamed ‘You better get on that bus or else.’. With a single heavy sigh of bitter defeat, you looked back at the old man with a sad smile.

“Anywhere but here, please.” You requested.

“East coast it is, then.” He said as you walked up into the bus, showed him your bus pass, and walked to the back of the bus. You looked around and saw that there was only two people on the bus. A man in his mid-forties was taking a nap and an older woman who looked like she was reading a book. The buss doors closed, and the bus then started to move and out of the station. You look back the bus stop one last time to see Dean climbing into his Impala and pulling his car out of the bus station. You watch as Dean’s black car drive the opposite direction. As far away from you as humanly possible, just like Dean wanted. To go and live his perfect life he always craved. Leaving you with no phone, no contacts, and no friends to lean on. As you watched the night sky fly by through, you thought about where you were going and what you were going to do. You didn’t know nor did you care. You were alone to not only to wallow in your grief for Sam, but also for Dean abandoning you. For to completely be caught of from the people you loved and tried so hard to protect. It made you wonder if you a better hunter, fought harder, and able to save Jo and Ellen. Maybe even Sam, and even if it meant sacrificing your own life. As Dean said, you weren’t worth it.  Never will you obtain the love nor the friendship that he had to offer others. Your cries became silent sobs as the bus continued to drive further away until you passed a sign that said, “You are now leaving Kansas.”  

 This was it, you were leaving Kansas. The only home you ever knew. Nothing was stopping from what was happening right now. Never again were you going to see Dean or Sam every again. You felt it in your bones and it broke you, never sure if you were ever going to be whole again.

Never knowing if Dean would ever be able to love you like you loved him.

Maybe, just maybe, it was never to be.

Part 2

[ananke-xiii]

My ranking of SPN seasons (based only on their PLOT) pt. 1

Okay so I've finally watched all 15 seasons of Supernatural and, I must say, what a journey!

The show has releaved itself to be a pleasant surprise, I've learned a lot thanks to it. I must confess that I had strong prejudices against it and had been avoiding it all these years because I thought it was... well, tbh not worthy.

Of course, since now I am here writing about it, it's useless to say that I was wrong. It's not the perfect show, sometimes it's not even a good show, but for sure it's an enjoyable, interesting and exciting show.

The following ranking is based solely on the plot (and subplot) of each seasons and my personal opinion about it.

15. Season 14: Frankly, I don't know what to say about this season, LOL. There is no real plot. We are led to believe that the story will revolve around Dean being possessed by Michael, okay. Basically Michael!Dean from the AU goes to Earth 1 to create an army of monsters (?) but then says bye bye to Dean and leaves (??), but oh wait, no, he re-possesses him (???), and then the army disappears (???) and then he gets trapped in Dean's mind and then he posseses Rowena (???????????). In the mean time, Jack is sick, dies, gets rescued by Castiel who makes a crazy deal with The Empty, then kinda goes crazy and starts killing angels (?????) and then gets killed by God. He also accidentally kills Mary Winchester (???????) in the process. I dont' get it, okay? Maybe it's just me! At any rate, we discover that Michael can possess whoever he wants since he easily changes his vessel without consent multiple times. This fact alone contradicts the whole of season 5 (Dean is the chosen one, the one and only Michael's vessel, hello writers?). Finally, the whole Nick/Lucifer thing. I get it, Mark Pellegrino was GREAT as Lucifer, I loved him, I wanted to see more of him. But his subplot was nonsense and meh. So, yes, the plot was bad. Reeeeeal bad.

14. Season 15: One of the the fun things about Supernatural is, for me, the fact that it doesn't take itself too seriously. Throughout the whole series we have continuous meta incursions and I find that extremely interesting. However, I think that with the final season they went too far. The plot (kiling the manipulative and frankly insufferable God) is stimulating enough until the episode named "The Trap". After that, I felt like the writers didn't know how to fill the remaining episodes until the end and just wasted half of the show on basically nothing really noteworthy. Also, one could totally see that the main worry was not the plot but trying to tie all loose ends off. It was unsuccessful. I would have preferred a well-executed plot rather than a plot that aimed at"filling in" all the gaps of a 15-year-old TV show (read: it's almost impossible, also unnecessary). The final episode was just bad, like really really bad. The plot was resolved by episode 19, so the last episode really felt like something made to end the show forever, kill everyone off and never talk about them anymore. It didn't make any sense at all.

13. Season 7: I didn't hate season 7 per se, but the plot was not great. Like season 15, the season starts off strong with the main event but then it drags itself out until the end. There's no meat in between. The gist is to kill the Leviathans, the subplot is Sam's confronting Lucifer's mental abuse. The most interesting stuff (aka the introduction of the Word of God) happens around the last 3 episodes. This is one of those seasons that are needed to "connect" different points in the myth-arc, however it was not done brilliantly. I felt like Bobby's death was not necessary to the events, it was poorly done for emotional sake. The"Dick jokes" are funny at first, then they are tiresome. After a while I couldn't take the characters seriously, it was all one big dick joke after another, please stop. At the end, we find out that the whole subplot was utterly useless: Castiel shifts the Sam's mental problem from Sam's mind to his, goes crazy in exchange, ultimately to be cured once he's in Purgatory. I'm sorry, what? Also: the Leviathans (the close-to unkillable monsters the heroes have been fighting for the whole series) become just "regular monsters" and that's it. I'm sorry, WHAT?!

12. Season 3: This season contains arguably some of the best episodes of the whole show. The 2007-2008 Writers Guild of America Strike affected the way the plot was planned (I presume) but I think it was for good. As a result, the plot is clean, simple, easy: the heroes need to rescue Deam from the demonic deal he has made. I like when there's a sort of "deadline" in the plot, it keeps things interesing for me. That's it, that's the plot. There's no subplot either. So why this low in the ranking? WELL. The first half of the show made me very uncomfortable. The jokes sounded very, very problematic and I had a very hard time finishing the episodes. Now I know this has nothing to do with the plot, but hey. It made me feel uneasy and the ranking is mine so ranking n. 12 it is!

11. Season 6: I appreciated the writers' attempt with this season. Basically, both the plot and the two main subplots make zero to no sense until the end, when we discover "the truth". As a matter of fact, until episode 19 we don't really understand what's going on. The plot seems to be the hunting of the Alphas and, eventually, of the Mother of them all: Eve. One subplot seems to be a civil war in Heaven, although we are only told about it and never see anything. The other subplots is Sam being soulless + the fact that now he's been hunting with his resurrected grandfather who, in turn, was resurrected by Crowley and now works under him (LOL). For the plot and the first subplot to make sense the missing link is this: Castiel and Crowley have been pulling the strings all along without the heroes' knowing. For the subplot... well, for the subplot (Sam being soulless), too LOL. Cas and Crowley are having an "affair of sorts" and plan to open the door to Purgatory to take souls from there and use them as... energy? Yeaaah. I liked the "whoaa I didn't see it coming" factor. HOWEVER, for it to REALLY make sense one needs to acknowledge Cas and Crowley relationship. Like, seriously, the reason why everything starts to go wrong (and interesting) is because Dean feels "betrayed" by Cas. Which makes zero sense. But I digress. What I want to say is that the turning point of the plot is understated unless you get the "romantic" implications. It's left to the audience to get it but, honestly, I didn't get it at first so I didn't get why the characters were so angry at Cas and why Cas didn't tell Dean about his affair with Crowley. Then when you get it, you get it but anyway the plot is not the best the show has to offer.

[zepskies]

Hi Zep! Buckle up because I have a number of picks for your ask game! How about 2, 10, 17, 40, 48, 55 and 70?

Hey Michelle! Hope you're having a lovely Sunday. ☀️💜

Omg these are amazing questions!!

Lmfao this is hilarious to me, but I actually had to think hard about this one. My pre-writing/outlining process is pretty methodical. However, I think the biggest time the narrative hijacked my hands was in Smoke Eater (firefighter!Dean x reader).

I had several scenes in the original outline that just weren't fitting right when I got to the drafting stage, to the point where I had to chuck them out entirely. Also, the whole murder mystery that's central to the narrative was complex to tease out, but that also took me by surprise when I was outlining!

I wasn't intending to go that route at first, but when I thought of including John Winchester and Cas as homicide detectives (drawing from my childhood obsession with Law & Order), it kind of just started coming to me.

So I usually have the premise of the idea before the title. It's gotten easier as I've become more experienced as a writer, but sometimes I just put a placeholder title that kind of encapsulates the idea before I come up with something better, then I start outlining/researching.

Often I get placeholder titles from songs/lyrics of what will likely give me inspiration for the story, and sometimes those titles stick!

Ooh another great question. 😂 Funnily enough, the ones that come to me off the top of my head are mostly from Break Me Down:

M.M. scoffed, with a subtle shake of his head.  “Nah, man,” he said ruefully. “That’s true motherfuckin’ love.”

And a fun one:

“Alert the media,” you said. “We’ve got the ultimate weapon against Soldier Boy: a slow ride on his dick.”

😂 This one also sticks out in my mind from the Midnight Espresso-verse - Devour Me (Part 2), as a playful one I was weirdly proud of lol:

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question.  “More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking.  “Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.” Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

Finally, this one from the imagine "You are Dean's one exception":

Oh man, that's very tough. I've been blessed to get some amazing feedback from you and others, and believe it or not, I do go back and reread comments and reblogs. It puts a smile on my face whether I'm having a bad day, or want to continue smiling on a good one. 💖

I think one of the best compliments I can receive, however, is that a story touched someone on an emotional level and somehow got them through a difficult time in their life, or is one of their "comfort stories." That's happened a few times, and it almost makes me cry every time. 🥲

I can also say that you, @chernayawidow, and @waynes-multiverse have given me some of the best feedback I've ever gotten on stories. Not just because the other two have made me cheese grin/nearly cry of laughter, but also because all of you are writers and have been able to tell me narratively (or on a character development level) what you liked about what I was doing in a story. As a writer, that kind of feedback is amazing as well. 💖💖

Also, some of my favorite feedback of all time has been on Midnight Espresso -- whether it's been people thanking me for the representation of the Hispanic/Latin culture, or sharing experiences with being plus-sized and how that's viewed in society. 💗

😬😬 Ahh guilty, lol. At the risk of sounding prideful, I think if you're doing it right, you should be writing the stories you want to write. So it stands to reason that you should be able to enjoy reading your own work. 💜

None on Tumblr, but unfortunately I do have a few on FF.net, which I don't even post on anymore, and maybe one or two on Ao3. Sometimes you just lose the drive to write for that fandom, especially if engagement is down. Sometimes you just move on to other things.

I'm a voracious editor. I believe good writing is also good editing -- that's just part of the process. So yes I guess I can be self-critical. lol

Sometimes I'll be rereading something, and I'll go in and edit it after it's already been posted for months, whether it's a typo, or a line that doesn't sound quite right for the character, or part of a scene that I think needs smoothing out. I guess I'm a bit of a perfectionist that way. 😅

Again, thank you so much for these questions, my friend!! I'm going to be sending you some too very soon. 😘

[deans-baby-momma]

Secrets & Desires- Part 1

A/N: Please let me know what you think! Reblogs and likes are nice but feedback is better.

Sam has been keeping a secret from Dean. For a while now - it’s killing him but he doesn’t know how to explain it to his older brother. How do you tell someone you’ve looked up to your whole life that you’ve finally found someone who gets you; who has the same sexual energy, desires and fetishes? And that she’s older. 

Dean would probably not bat an eye, even be proud of his little brother for a moment. Until he found out who Sam has been sneaking around with. And it all started with one little phrase during a case. 

2012

“Do I have to use my ‘mom voice’?”

Jody Mills was not someone Sam ever thought of in a sexual way. She was a friend, a fellow hunter but when he returned to the first floor after finding Dean’s note and the sheriff actually used her ‘mom voice’ on him, it did something to him. 

Sam wasn’t going to pursue it. He thought she was just being a caretaker, looking out for him because she saw how exhausted he was……and maybe she was but even after they retrieved Dean and went their separate ways, Sam couldn’t get the image of Jody being Mommy for him.

When Crowley almost took Jody’s life in a bid to get the Winchesters to stop trying to close the gates of Hell, Sam decided it was now or never. He was going to make a move, but before that could happen, the trials almost claimed his life.

The next time they met up for a case, Sam could barely look at Jody. The dreams that his imagination had conjured up left him wound up about the woman who’d lost almost everything. And when Sam and Dean signed the chastity vow, he figured he probably needed to just forget everything.

Until Jody said something when they figured out Dean was boning the chastity group’s counselor, Suzy, a reformed porn star.

“I’d like to whip his tail for thinking with his dick instead of his brain during a case!”

Sam couldn’t stand it anymore. So as they stood in the remnants of Dean and Suzy’s abduction, Sam pulled Jody to him and kissed her soundly before uttering, “You can spank me anytime, Mommy.”  

"Sam?" Jody says incredulously, making Sam want to shrink into oblivion.  Had he read the situation all wrong? Was the vibe she was emitting completely innocent and he just made a giant mistake?

"Oh god Jody," he begins pulling away. "I'm so sorry!"

"Sam Winchester!" Jody scolds, shutting the tall hunter up. She wraps her arms around his waist and places her hands on his ass. "I would love to use my crop on this ass," she tells him with a quick squeeze. "Fuck, I bet you could bounce a nickel off that."

Sam feels himself blush at her observation. But he mentally pats himself on the back because he had been correct, she was into the whole Mommy kink - or at least ready to give it a go. He smiles as he plants his hands on her cheeks and leans down and captures her lips again.

Jody wastes no time allowing him entrance between her lips. She had been attracted to Sam for years. He just exuded confidence and security and she had thought she sensed a bit of a kinky side to him once or twice. 

Now she knew what he was into, she had no problems being that for him. She couldn't wait to see the big, strong, brave hunter become submissive and complacent in her bed.

The kiss seemed to become a battle for dominance but Jody knew just what to do to gain the upper hand.  She slid her hands down Sam's back and once again cupped his buttocks before lifting her right hand and landing a solid smack on his left cheek.

Sam moaned into her mouth, giving her the advantage to take control. Once air became a necessity,  the two pulled apart and Jody looked up at him through her lashes. "There's more where that came from," she teased. 

Sam opened his mouth to respond but with an inhale, he got a slight whiff of Dean's cologne and remembered the case.

"As much as I want to continue this," he said remorsefully. "We need to find my brother."

Jody nods and steps out of the embrace, but not before locking Sam in a commanding look  "Once we find Dean, you come to my room and get your comeuppance. You understand Mister?"

Sam's dick twitched in his jeans at the assertiveness. The authority in her voice made him want to obey, like a good little boy. 

"Yes ma'am."

Once they discovered the monster, a Roman goddess named Vesta that was kidnapping and killing virgins, the hunter and the sheriff learned that the only way to kill it was oak stained in virgin blood.  They also learned from a staticky and short phone call from Dean that he and the others were being held at an old farm near train tracks.

With an oak stake dipped in the blood of one of the chastity group members, they arrive at the farm and hunt for the goddess and her victims. 

In a bid to save Dean and the others, along with Sam who was knocked unconscious,  Jody goes up against the monster - getting stabbed herself.

Still, she used what strength she had left to kill Vesta and save them all.  Jody Mills wasn't going to have more deaths on her conscience, especially that of her friends and possible future lover.

Only that would have to hold off, as she herself was too injured to participate in those types of events.

While Dean was off checking on Suzy and the others, Jody  and Sam concluded that as soon as she healed, she would call him.

"I'd tell you boys to stay out of trouble," Jody says later in the Winchester's motel room, looking from one to the other. "But what's the point?"

Dean hugs her and thanks her for bailing him out. She hugs Sam and then takes the bag he hands her. She glances at Dean to see he has turned his back on them so she whispers, "I'll call you. Be a good boy."

Sam subtly nods and is rewarded with a wink and an air kiss. He watches as Jody walks out the door. 

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