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animasola86 · 1 month ago

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🚩 FORCED: 01

Accidents happen. Mistakes were made, and while you hoped the handsome stranger would help you through your dilemma, you ended up in his service, paying off a debt that would have changed your life for the worse if you wouldn't have "accepted" his "offer". Unfortunately, your life is still about to change, if you want to or not, and it's not getting any better...

a morally gray man!your new master ✖️ female!reader

WARNING: This is a DARK FANTASY EROTICA! Beware of the following tags: NSFW! Dead dove: do not eat! Explicit sexual content! Noncon! Master/servant dynamic! Bad BDSM etiquette! Manipulation! Free use! Hurt/No comfort! (🚩Please do not read/engage if any of these tags are triggering to you!)

WORDS: 3.1k 🚩 READ ON AO3! 🚩 SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N: Before I further warn you about the following depravities, let me address the elephant in the room: Yes, this is tagged with various fandom tags, no, this is not about your favorite blorbo, BUT I wrote a very ambiguous male character here, no descriptions, no name, so I invite you to fill in the blanks and MAKE him your favorite blorbo, call him Joel, call him Tony, call him Dean, whatever you want, imagine him as your favorite character, he can be ANYONE who's tall, (subjectively) handsome, rich, slightly intimidating, morally gray, and who would consider himself a Master.

Our Reader character is very ambiguous too, all I "blessed" her with, is hair long enough to braid and female genitalia. As I usually do, I tend to give my vague female characters pet names, and hers is Doll.

Now back to the warnings. I hope you considered the warnings I already gave above, so just know that this story is very dark, there's no comfort, it's rough, it's depraved, it's a collection of the darkest kinks I could think of (even those I told myself to never explore). Sometimes you just need to write (and read?) something that makes you highly uncomfortable, and maybe, through that discomfort you'll discover something about yourself. There is pleasure through pain after all, right?

So if you want to follow me on this wild, wild ride and are not afraid to face some dark themes, I welcome you and I thank you for reading these long notes before you dove into the thick of it. Please enjoy my darkest story yet!

And remember: This is fiction!!!

🔻 Chapter 1 🔺 Chapter 2+3

Not that it mattered in the moment, but if you could have formed a coherent thought, you'd wonder how you'd ended up like this: strapped to something one can only call a medieval torture device, wearing a blindfold and a ring gag, completely helpless, while getting a very unrelenting ass pounding.

It certainly wasn't something you'd planned.

The memory was hazy, but it had something to do with driving your rusty old hunk of metal of a car into the rear end of a shiny new, very expensive looking sports car. You'd been quite tipsy and shouldn't have gotten behind the wheel in the first place, but it happened, and while nobody got hurt (yet), you had been devastated.

Your options were slim. You knew your insurance couldn't do jack, you'd have to pay for the repairs yourself (because it was so obviously your fault), and on top of that you'd been (very) drunk, and if the police got involved, you'd lose your driver's license, which would ruin you further. No means to get to your job, you'd lose that too. And where were you supposed to get the money from then? Definitely not out of your starving bank account.

It was a spiral of doom, and it all led you to fall onto your knees, overdramatic as you were in your headless, drunken state, and you were begging. The man who had exited the sports car watched you curiously. He wasn't even angry, maybe mildly inconvenienced, but when you started pleading, his demeanor changed. There was a dark smirk on his handsome face.

Because, of course, you had to rear-end the car of the most gorgeous man you'd ever seen. On top of the dizzying sensation of numerous cocktails (and countless shots and in-between beers) swimming through your system and the overwhelming guilt of causing an accident, you felt a strange and very inopportune warmth between your thighs.

He was hot, and you were hot for him, and it only made it worse to be on your knees in front of him, telling him I'll do anything, please, no police, it'll be my ruin, I can't afford the repairs but I wanna do something to help, make this better, please...

He'd taken a step closer, his hand moving towards your tear soaked face. You must have looked terrible, blotchy reddened skin, make-up smeared, mascara running down your cheeks in ugly rivulets, but he still cupped your burning face, thumb tracing the shape of your trembling bottom lip.

“You'd do anything, doll?” he asked, and you didn't even mind the pet name you would normally cringe about (or the inappropriate touch or the strange undertone), his voice was just so low, soft and deep, a gentle rumble in the air, very distracting.

You nodded into his hand, whimpering a breathless “Yes, sir”.

A smile made his lips twitch. “You know,” he said, caressing your face, fingertips brushing your unruly hair behind your ear. “It so happens that I need a new servant,” he continued, and you stared at him, mesmerized and confused. “You could pay off your debt while working for me.”

His suggestion made you blink, your mind too clouded to fully comprehend it, but you nodded again, a shaky smile playing around your lips. “Yes. Yes, I could. I would, I mean, I will! I'll do anything,” you repeated, leaning your head into his palm.

“Get up,” he ordered, and you stood immediately, albeit on trembling legs, having to look up at the tall man who still held your face. His other hand slipped into the inner pocket of his suit jacket to retrieve his phone.

You were staring at him, dumbstruck, desperate, drunk, watching him dial some number, then giving a bunch of orders. You barely registered any of it, too intoxicated (infatuated?) and shocked, too busy thinking about your spiraling life, you just heard something about a tow truck and some garage, and when he was finished, he winked at you, slowly guiding you to the passenger side of his car, his hand warm on your lower back.

While your car seemed damaged beyond repair with how the hood had been crushed into an accordion shape, there was a deep scratch in the probably very expensive matte black paint of his bumper, a few dents, a broken tail light, but nothing that kept his car from driving.

Not that you noticed too much of it as he ushered you onto the soft leather seat. He even leaned over you and buckled you in, and you were mind-blown, mind basically shattered at this point, too enamored to think any further than the tip of your nose, too distracted to realize you'd left your purse in the glove compartment of your car.

Not that it would matter.

The man slipped behind the wheel, his eyes holding you hostage while you both waited for the tow truck. There might have been small talk, but you couldn't remember, the world was muffled at that point, your head spinning, your tongue too heavy to move. Once those flashing lights that weren't from any police car flickered across the dark parking lot, the man drove off with a roar of the engine, quickly speeding away from the scene of your demise.

Demise? Again, you couldn't make that connection, not in that moment, all you felt was a strange relief. He took care of the car, he'd take care of you too, right? You'd work for him, pay off your debt, keep living your boring little life once it was all done.

It was all a blur when the car arrived at one of those fancy metal gates, and the house that loomed behind them was too massive to comprehend. You were floating, still too drunk to properly function or think a single rational thought. Doesn't matter. It'll be alright.

You remember stepping into a large foyer, eyes too unfocused to take in all the splendor around you. He grabbed your wrist then and pulled you after him into an office where you fell into a soft chair. The rustling of paper made you curious, but when you looked down at the stack he'd put down in front of you, you frowned.

“Just to make this legal,” he said in that honey sweet baritone voice of his that melted your panties right off. “You'll sign this and you'll become a part of this household, as you'll serve me in whatever way I see fit. We'll find a place for you. You'll get your own room, you'll always be fed, and I'm sure you can handle whatever needs to be done, right? Consider your debt paid off, doll.”

As confused as you were, you were also too grateful for this turn of events. Stumbling out of a bar after a night of too much alcohol to try to forget your shitty little life, drunk driving into this man's car to end up working for him, living in his special mansion? Why not? Sounds reasonable. Sounds better than having to return to your small apartment that still reeked of the previous tenant's love for garlic.

It didn't even matter that he never told you who he was, that you didn't exchange any names to begin with. Who is he? Doesn't matter. He seemed wealthy, influential, generous in his offer to let you do this instead of ruining your life by insisting to do it the official way. He was offering you redemption, and you'd be very stupid to deny it. It'll be alright. No need to read the long text in front of you either, not that you could focus on a single word anyway. It'll be fine. You'll be a maid, probably, you can do that. Dust and clean or whatever, easy.

And so you grabbed the pen he was holding out to you and left the strange squiggle of your signature on the lines he marked for you, not even wondering why he'd have this contract ready to sign so quickly. Does this happen often? Doesn't matter.

Your head was spinning, and the way he smiled at you didn't make it better. You found yourself smiling back, somewhat dumbly, too buzzed to react any differently. You felt sleepy too, a strange mix of nerves and utter exhaustion, and you barely noticed when he stood next to you all of a sudden, gently grabbing your elbow to pull you to your feet.

Then you were walking with him, to an elevator, and it was going down, and your stomach jumped to the ceiling, nausea grabbing you tightly. The cubicle stopped with a sudden jerk, the doors slid open with a ding, and he kept dragging you along, through a dimly lit corridor lined with doors. You felt lightheaded now, on the verge of throwing up all the sugary drinks you'd consumed earlier, but he didn't stop, didn't give your body a second to rest before you reached the end of the hallway.

He opened the nearest door with something like a key card and gently pushed you into the room beyond. You stumbled, turned to look at him, but he was already closing the door behind you, shutting you in. You blinked, confusion mixing with the vertigo gripping your body, and the small noise of a lock clicking into place got lost when you started retching.

You somehow made it into the small room to your left that held a toilet and a sink, and found yourself hugging the bowl as you emptied your stomach into it. You were still dizzy when your body decided it was enough, and after a long moment of just sitting on the tiled floor, trying to catch your breath, you managed to stand up and lean over the sink. No mirror. Strange.

The light coming from a single bulb dangling from the ceiling hurt your eyes, so you didn't pay too much attention to the unusually spartan light fixture. You washed your hands, then your face, then washed your mouth out. There was a small shelf to the side, holding a prepackaged toothbrush and some tooth paste, and you ripped it open with shaking hands and brushed the vile taste off your tongue.

Feeling only slightly better, you went back into the room, finding nothing but a bed. Not even a bedside table. Just a bed, and it wasn't as comfortable or big looking as you would have expected in a mansion this large and luxurious. It still served a purpose, and you fell onto it and curled up, too exhausted to think any more about what happened. Or what might await you.

Doesn't matter.

With your head spinning and the room spinning along, you fell asleep to dreams of more spinning, of cars and handsome men, flashing lights, hands on your face, hands on your hips, hands pulling off your clothes, fingers pinching your nipples, fingers dipping between your shamefully wet folds, of moans and grunts echoing through a small room, and it was still spinning, and the bed was shaking and squeaking, and you were moved and handled, and when you woke up even more exhausted, you found yourself lying on your stomach, cheek resting on a wet spot where your drool had gathered on the pillow.

You rolled onto your side, feeling a strange soreness deep within you. There was something sticky between your thighs, and you blamed it all on drinking too much, having strange wet dreams, pushing yourself too far. Stumbling off the bed, you groaned, pressing a hand to your stomach as a deep-rooted pain poked at your insides. You didn't even notice that you were stark naked at first. Slowly, you made your way into the bathroom, sat on the toilet for what felt like forever, a strange burning sensation assaulting your senses.

Your head was heavy, hurting, full of cotton that pressed hard against your skull, threatening to break through. Not sure cotton can do that. You brushed your teeth again, blinking at the empty spot where you'd expect a mirror on the wall. It took you a very long time to finally put all the pieces together, or at least some of them.

Your clothes were gone. You were naked, aching, had to clean off a strange stickiness from between your legs, your insides hurt in a way you never experienced before, and sitting was very uncomfortable somehow too. Last night was a blur, but you remembered the accident, the man, signing a contract, paying off your debt by... by doing what? Being a servant? That's what he'd said, right? What kind of servant? you wondered as you sat on the edge of the bed, breathing harder as you tried to make sense of it all.

The room alone was strange. The only light came from the (doorless) bathroom, from that grimly looking light bulb swinging softly from the ceiling. There were no windows, just the bed and the door, a sturdy looking door without a knob or handle, just a key pad to the side. What is this place? A cell of some sort? Why were you here? Why were you naked? Where did your clothes go? Who had taken them? Who had been here? What had happened to you?

Caught in your own mind, you grabbed the sheets and draped them around your bare body. You weren't cold, but it felt better to cover up like this. If you wouldn't have to fight the aftermath of a night full of flowery drinks and gut-punching shots, you would certainly panic, start pacing, try to find a way out. But you were hurting, from the top of your head down into your toes, all nerve endings on edge, and the pain was that all-consuming thing around you, allowing not a single rational thought, just an overall feeling of uneasiness.

You didn't know how long you just sat there, staring holes into the bland wall, when the door suddenly opened with a click and a hiss. It swung open, and the man from last night entered, greeting you with a smile. You blinked at him, lips trembling, mind reeling.

“Good morning,” he said as he walked in and closed the door behind him. It clicked shut automatically. He was carrying a box in his hands. You remained on the edge of the bed, not daring to move as you watched him put it down next to you, nodding towards it. “I brought you something to wear,” he added nonchalantly.

Still confused but also intrigued, you slid part of the blanket off your shoulder and moved your hand to open the box, hoping for new clothes, maybe a maid's uniform, something that would make sense, but what you saw lying on the soft red velvet lining the insides of the container made your stomach turn violently. You recognized three coils of black rope, but the other item made no sense to you.

It was a metal hook, for lack of a better term, with a loop at one end that was probably for the rope to pass through, but the other side was... it was rounded, elongated, several ball shaped protrusions in a hard line, the metal formed in some sort of arch, giving it the hook-shape.

You swallowed hard, looking up at the man who watched you with dark eyes and an impassive expression, no longer smiling. Looking away more than intimidated, you stared back into the box and noticed a few other things. A thick leather band, like a collar, with a hoop at the back and three little belts in the front, the width of it making you stiffen, your throat already closing up just thinking of having something that big around it. You'd assume that was what it was for anyway.

It was strange how calm you were, how unusually distant. You had so many questions, but you couldn't find the strength to ask them. His presence felt ominous, like you couldn't breathe, oppressive, dominating. You felt small, even smaller than you were, vulnerable without your clothes, trapped in this weird room. And somehow it also made sense. You remembered the things he told you, and all of them seemed true. Having a room, doing what needs to be done, serving him. There were no details, but your mind was reeling with filling the voids.

Servant. Not a maid, but a slave.

Why was this revelation so eerily comforting? It shouldn't be. You should be freaking out, he took you away, forced you to sign a contract (patiently holding the pen, waiting for you, while you made the biggest mistake of your life), expecting you to come to terms with your new role right on the spot – and frankly, you felt yourself accepting it.

You didn't have a choice, did you? You were young and naive, yes, but you knew that contracts held value, and you signed one, you remembered it, not clearly, but it was there, and you did it because you needed to repay your debt, pay for the repair of his car that you were at fault of damaging. It was either this (whatever this was) or dealing with insurance and police and losing your car and your driver's license and your job and all the other things you'd accumulated over the years of independence. It wasn't much, but you didn't want to lose any of it.

And you wouldn't have to work here forever, right? A car repair, a new paint job, wouldn't be costing that much, would it? He'd have to let you go eventually. But you didn't read the contract... Something cold crashed down your spine, making you gasp, finally opening the door to more hysterical breaths, your lungs aching under the need to get enough oxygen to make you fully understand what was going on.

As soon as you started hyperventilating, you found yourself pressed to the bed, a strong hand closing around your throat, further limiting your airways. Your eyes widened as he loomed over you, staring down darkly. “Please,” you croaked out, your hands frantically grasping for his wrist, your body finally remembering it could move.

He shook his head. “You signed a contract. You gave your life to me,” he said quietly, his low voice menacing and dark now. “You want to pay off your debt, don't you, doll?”

You kicked beneath him as he climbed over you, one knee pressed between your legs, hand tightening around your neck. Gasping, thighs trembling as he rubbed the soft fabric of his pants against your aching sex, you opened your mouth, tried to tell him no, not like this, it was a mistake, please, but he only squeezed a little more, fingers pressing into the sides of your throat, black spots dancing in front of your eyes.

The room was spinning again, you felt so heavy, so exhausted, your fingernails scratched over his skin before your hands fell away limply, and then, darkness surrounded you, switching off the screeching voices of panic in your head instantly.

🔻 Chapter 1 🔺 Chapter 2+3

End notes: This was just the introduction, from now on, anything goes, and it goes hard. Stay tuned!

New chapter every Saturday at around 9pm CEST!

Thank you for braving this depravity reading!

MASTERLIST 🔻 AO3 🔻 ORIGINAL WORKS

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shanastoryteller · 10 months ago

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i'm going to move on from supernatural posting, i swear to god, but first i'm going to talk about ep 9x07 bad boys

the episode itself is fine and good (i mean it's another example of dean having a support network while sam can't have anyone and dean keeping secrets while when sam does it it's the worst betrayal ever but that's not what this is about and sometimes i think about what this show did two earnest, loving traumatized characters by turning them into the most tragic versions of themselves and - ok, this really isn't what this post is about)

but fandom interpretation of this episode actually drives me up a wall because it does a disservice to literally every character

one, john did not leave them without enough money for food. dean gambled it and lost it. there's nothing in canon to say that john was taking longer than expected, that they were running out of money, none of that. dean gambled food money and lost it and then tried to steal to make up for it. he was 16 when this happened and it was a bad decision but i don't think he should be at all vilified for this. he made a dumb mistake and then tried to fix it with another dumb mistake. john was right to be mad and sam was also right to tell him that he shouldn't beat himself up about it. just like with shtriga - yeah, dean was climbing the walls stuck in that hotel room. but you know who else was stuck in that hotel room? sam. and he didn't get a break to go play at the arcade. again, i'm not blaming dean here, he shouldn't have been stuck taking care of his brother that young and he was a kid and john leaving his his children behind while hunting a child eater, whether he was using them for bait or not, is crazy. but dean stealing food wasn't about john's neglect and all the sacrifices dean had to make for sam. it was about him trying to fix his fuck up

two, and this is the one that really gets me, dean didn't go back with john because he had to take care of sam

listen. listen to me. i am speaking from experience when i say this

parentified siblings are still, first and foremost, siblings. especially with only 4 years between them. the show shameless i think did an absolutely excellent job with this and is why i love the first few seasons of it so much. fiona is without a doubt parentified, she is raising those kids, but she's also clearly their sister not their mother

i know later seasons dean and fandom like to make it seem like dean literally raised sam and john was just a background figure but like. that's not realistic, and frankly doesn't even make sense

the reason dean leaves sonny and goes with john isn't because he feels like he has to keep him sam safe. it's isn't because he feels like he has to raise him. it's because he loves him

you are reducing dean to the most pathetic woe is me archetype with this interpretation and ridding him of all his rich loyalty and care and love to saddle him instead with comparatively flat duty. dean is more than sam's caretaker. he's his brother

there's also no reason for dean to feel this way. he just massively fucked up in taking care of sam - that's why he's with sonny in the first place. john has alternate people to take care of sam when he can't do it himself, as he has just proven, and while i don't think we should turn a couple teenage mistakes into making dean incapable, dean absolutely would - and did! he carries every fuck up regarding sam with him! so right now he's really, really low when it comes to his own estimation to take care of sam and leaving sonny because of that doesn't make any sense

but he looks at his brother and is reminded how much he missed him and loves him and realizes staying means he loses his brother. the good and the bad. so he goes, because he loves sam more than anything else

this is also why sam leaving for stanford cuts him so deep. that's why this moment is a parallel to that rather than being unrelated. stanford isn't about sam leaving dean even though he has a duty to care of him, because he doesn't. dean's 22 and at this point is always hunting with their father so there's no reason for sam to believe his presence is necessary for either john or dean's safety

no, dean's mad because he chose his love for his brother over a normal life and sam didn't

(sam didn't want to choose at all but this isn't about him)

anyway. dean fucks up sometimes and john sucks but not quite in the ways fandom thinks and dean loves his brother past reason or sense

#the 07 writers strike causing s3 to end with dean going to hell rather than sam descending into a demon power trip to save him #was actually the beginning of the end to good characterization of this show #you tried to make this other path work and you ruined both my boys with it #sorry but luke skywalker and han solo are both infinitely better characters when they remain luke skywalker and han solo #rather than trying to fuse them together #supernatural #this is your grandma talking

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silksandcravats · 3 months ago

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Hitting the books - Dean x Reader

When it comes to research duties, you and Dean are equally (ir)responsible. Contents: Dean x fem!reader, piv sex, poor sammy hearing more than he would like, slight dom!dean x sub!reader undertones, reader and dean having zero self restraint

In Sam's opinion, the two of you shouldn't have been allowed to do the research in the first place. The case had dragged along longer than expected, you'd misidentified the creature tormenting the town, and now more fieldwork and research were required.

When Dean proposed that he return to the motel with you while Sammy poked around and interviewed a few more locals, he'd been met with one hell of an eye roll. You thought it was a great idea, Sam, not so much. Probably because he knew you'd end up in this exact position.

True, Dean was at the motel desk, and there was an old lore book cracked open on the table, but it was hard to read with your naked body bent directly over it.

Not to mention your warm, perfect little cunt swallowing him whole, little whines and pants slipping from your mouth as your hips tried to push back to meet his thrusts. Somehow, his tip seemed to be knocking deeper in you with each thrust, brushing against your cervix.

Fatigue and want battled for control of your body, the muscles in your thighs burned, your hips were bruising from slamming against the edge of the desk, and your pelvis ached from where it met his again and again, but it just felt so damn good.

Your forehead dropped against the cool wood of the desk, and you panted, gripping tightly to the edge the way he’d told you to when he first bent you over the surface.

You felt him shift, leaning over you, his hard, solid front pressing against your back. He left a line of sloppy, open mouth kisses along your shoulder before he spoke.

"You gonna touch that pretty little clit or should I?" He murmured, turning to nose against your temple.

"No, too much," you shook your head against the table. He tsked in disagreement.

You were already completely consumed by the feeling of him fucking you, the desk had you at the perfect angle, allowing him to rock even deeper into you than normal. The pleasure of it all was plenty, you didn’t need anything else, couldn’t take anything else.

But he didn’t seem to think so as hand slipped between your bodies. There was barely enough room for his fingers to brush against your swollen bundle of nerves, but Dean had a talent when it came to touching.

You gasped at the contact, you would've launched yourself forward if there was anywhere at all for you to go.

"Getting ready to come for me now, aren't you?"

You didn't have to see his face to know he was grinning, you were giving him the perfect view and he was absolutely eating up how you were crumbling beneath him.

"Mhmm," was all the response you could manage, practically cockdrunk.

Suddenly, his phone on the desk buzzed, both your heads snapping toward the interruption. Dean's hand left your waist, slowing his thrusts as he reached for the offending distraction.

He swore as he recognized the caller ID, looking around the room quickly.

Conveniently, his boxers had ended up on the desk. He grabbed them, balled them up loosely, and shoved them between your slightly parted lips before you could even register what was happening.

You made a noise of protest against the fabric, eyes wide.

Before you could try to spit the makeshift gag out, his hand clamped over your mouth firmly.

“That comes out you’ll be sorry.”

It was ridiculous if you asked him. You'd greedily take his whole cock in your mouth any time of day without complaint, but the fabric that it touched was where you drew the line?

"Not a damn sound, understand?" He warned, moving his hand away slowly.

You made another muffled noise of dissatisfaction but nodded as he flipped open the phone and pressed it to his ear.

"Hey Sammy, what'd you find?" His voice suddenly perfectly casual as he answered the phone.

He cocked his shoulder upward, allowing him to hold the device secured between his ear and his shoulder. With both hands now free, he grasped your hips, pulling you back from the desk slightly before resuming his previous pace, rocking into you again without warning.

You squeaked loudly against the fabric, earning a rough pinch to the side of your thigh in reprimand.

"Uh-huh, right, " he answered, carrying on a full-blown conversation as he continued to fuck you against the desk.

One part of you felt mortified about how much more aroused the current circumstances were making you feel. Dean speaking so casually with his brother, who had no idea you were getting fucked right below him. It was fucking hot.

Another part of you felt it was unfair that you were practically falling apart while he remained calm and collected.

Deciding to play dirty, you grinded back against him, trying to take charge of the speed. However, this was easily thwarted as his grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging harshly into your skin and stalling your movements.

You pressed yourself up slightly, turning to look back at him innocently, batting your lashes. He shot you a hard glare, shaking his head at you in response.

Not willing to give up, you changed tactics, waiting until he was fully sheathed inside you, then clenching tightly around him.

"Shit," he hissed directly into the phone, unable to stop himself. He grasped the back of your neck, shoving your face down against the wood in response.

His voice was almost even when he spoke again, giving some half-ass excuse to his brother as he began pistoning in and out of you faster.

You let out a broken moan, struggling to adjust to his quickened pace.

The desk was creaking beneath you with every thrust now. You squirmed slightly, you weren't even touching yourself, but you didn't have to, you were going to come just like this.

Dean, who knew you body better than anyone, could tell you were close, and just when you thought he couldn't possibly fuck you any deeper he lifted your hips slightly, dragging you up to your tiptoes so he had you at just the right angle.

From the new position he could knock just the right spot inside of you, hitting so deep you could practically feel him in your throat.

Moments later you were coming, the balled up boxers you were now basically drooling around doing a terrible job of muting your screams of bliss.

As your orgasm finished rolling through you, he lowered you down, allowing your feet to rest flat on the floor again, his thrusts slowed but didn't stop. Your head was already feeling hazy, but you knew that wouldn't be your last orgasm of the night.

What you didn't hear above you was Sam's tired voice scoff into the phone.

"Dude, next time you're fucking your girlfriend just don't answer, I can hear everything,"

Dean offered some insincere apology in response before ending the call quickly and tossing his phone back on the desk. He grasped the back of your hair and pulled you to stand against him.

"Well, I hope you're happy sweetheart, you traumatized Sammy."

#dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader #spnfandom

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the-winter-spider · 8 months ago

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Invisible | Part 13

Pairings: Bucky x reader AU (soon-ish????)

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: None yet lol

A/N: Yall we have bucky meeting dean next 👀👀👀👀

Masterpost

Bucky tossed his keys onto the counter, the familiar metallic clink echoing through the silent apartment. The quiet settled over him like a heavy blanket, oppressive and suffocating. The faint hum of the fridge and the soft ticking of the wall clock were the only sounds, filling the space where your laughter or the shuffle of your footsteps used to be. His eyes instinctively flicked to the small ceramic bowl by the door—the one he’d made you for your birthday last year, glazed in your favorite colors.

Empty.

His chest tightened. You’d been home.

He let out a slow, uneven breath, running a hand through his hair, the motion doing little to ease the tension coiled in his shoulders. Of course, you’d come back at some point. You lived here too. And yet, seeing the empty bowl still sent a pang of something sharp through his chest.

He knew your shifts had been just out of sync with his, making it easy to avoid each other. And while the rational part of him told him this was a good thing—that you both needed space to cool off— but the last time you and him went this long without communicating or seeing each other was the first 5 years of your lives when you hadn't met yet, even your first big fight in high school only lasted 48 hours, yet another part of him, the part that constantly replayed the fight in his head, hated it.

God, he hated it.

He hated himself.

The weight of your absence was everywhere: in the way your bedroom door remained firmly closed, where it was usually freely open, in the lingering smell of your favorite shampoo that still clung to the bathroom, in the faint indent your slippers left by the couch. You were avoiding him, and he couldn’t blame you. Hell, he was avoiding you too.

He sighed deeply, pulling his phone from his pocket when it buzzed. He lingered on his home screen of the photo of him and you. His thumb swiped across the screen, his heart sinking slightly when he saw the message from Sam.

Sam: Still no word from Nat?

Bucky: Not since that Friday. She’s still pissed, I guess.

Sam: Yeah, well… you’re lucky Y/N didn’t tell her to throw your stuff out the window.

Bucky huffed a humorless laugh, shaking his head as he typed his reply.

Bucky: Wouldn’t blame her if she did.

He stared at the screen, the soft glow illuminating his tired features. He could practically hear Natasha’s voice in his head, ripping into him with every creative insult she could muster. And, honestly? She’d be right. He was a dick. An asshole. Every name in the book and that was being kind.

But what hurt more was knowing that even now, even after everything, you were probably still defending him. You always did. You always had his back, no matter how much he screwed up. It was one of the things he both loved and hated about you—your loyalty, your unwavering faith in him. And that only made him feel worse.

Because this time? He didn’t deserve it.

With a frustrated sigh, he pocketed his phone and trudged toward his room, his footsteps heavy against the hardwood floor. The night stretched ahead of him, and all he could think about was the looming “great date” with Kate.

He should feel something—excitement, anticipation, maybe even relief at the prospect of a distraction. But all he felt was dread, a gnawing pit in his stomach that only seemed to grow the closer it got to 5 p.m.

Kate deserved better than this.

So did you.

He sat on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees as he rubbed his face with his hands. His mind was a storm of conflicting thoughts, each one louder than the last. He knew what he had to do, what he should’ve done weeks ago. He shouldn't even have gotten more involved with someone else while his feelings were all over the place and his heart always was with you. But every time he thought about it, about ending things with Kate, his thoughts circled back to you.

What would you think? Would you even care? You never did before, did you? There was times in high school when he would see a slight sadness in your eyes when he was another girl and because of that he never let things get too serious with any of them, and it wasn't your fault directly he knew that, he was the one making the decision because in the end he would always chose you over them, and they eventually always gave him a 'You cant have a girl as your best friend!' 'Look at the way she looks at you!' 'Its her or me Bucky!'

Bucky leaned back, staring at the ceiling, the weight of his decisions pressing down on him. He had to get his shit together, had to figure out how to fix this mess he’d made. But first, he had to get through tonight.

The restaurant was warm, the low buzz of conversation filling the air as Bucky sat across from Kate. She looked beautiful, her dark hair falling in soft waves, a kind smile on her face. She’d dressed up for the occasion, wearing a sleek black dress that made her look effortlessly elegant.

“Glad we could finally make this work,” Kate said, her voice light as she sipped her wine. “We’ve both been so busy.”

Bucky forced a smile. “Yeah, me too. It’s nice to… slow down for a bit.”

Kate smiled, leaning on her hand as she studied him. “You seem distracted, though. Long day?”

“Something like that,” Bucky muttered, swirling his own glass of wine.

The truth was, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Wondering if you were still upset, replaying every moment of the fight in his head, the look on your face when you left. And then there was the matter of Kate.

Kate was kind. She was sweet, funny, and easy to be around. But she wasn’t you. God, no one would ever be you.

She didn’t make his heart race with just a glance. She didn’t know every little quirk about him, like how he always needed coffee first thing in the morning before uttering a single syllable or how he secretly loved old noir films. How he had a secret vendetta against green m&m's because he almost choked on one as a kid and hasn't touched one since, how he preferred Hockey over Football but he would never tell Steve or Sam that. She wasn’t the one he imagined sharing his life with, that had always been you, even when things were messy, it was still you.

“Bucky?” Kate’s voice brought him back to the present, her brow furrowed with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he said quickly, straightening up. “Just… a lot on my mind.”

Kate gave him a small, understanding smile. “You’ve been off since you picked me up. If something’s going on, you can tell me.”

Bucky hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He knew he couldn’t keep stringing her along—it wasn’t fair to either of them.

He leaned forward, setting his glass down. “Kate… I need to be honest with you.”

Her smile faltered slightly, but she nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“You’re great,” Bucky started, his voice soft but firm. “You’re smart, funny, your beautiful, perfect really and anyone would be lucky to be with you. But… my heart’s not in this.”

Kate’s expression softened, a hint of sadness in her eyes, but she didn’t look surprised. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

Bucky’s stomach twisted. He nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

Kate took a deep breath, her lips pressing into a thin line before she gave him a small, bittersweet smile. “I figured as much. You’ve been… somewhere else this whole time.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said, his voice low. “You deserve someone who can give you their whole heart. And that’s not me.”

Kate reached across the table, placing a gentle hand on his. “Thank you for being honest. It sucks, but… I get it. I think I knew deep down this was coming.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “Kate…”

She shook her head, a soft smile on her face despite the tears threatening to spill. “No, it’s okay. Really. It hurts don't get me wrong, but I don’t think you’re a bad guy, Bucky. You’ve always been kind, even if you’ve been distracted.”

Her voice wavered slightly, but she pressed on. “Honestly, I’m glad this happened now, before I got in too deep. I could see it from the start, you know? The way you look at her… and the way she looks at you.”

Bucky blinked, his heart clenching. “Kate—”

“I hope it works out between you two,” she interrupted gently. “You clearly care about each other. And even though it’s not what I wanted for us, I’m glad you told me now instead of dragging it out.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words lingering between them. Finally, Kate withdrew her hand, giving him a nod. “Take care of yourself, Bucky. And… I hope she knows how lucky she is.”

Bucky’s throat tightened, but he managed to say, “Thanks, Kate.”

As she stood to leave, Bucky watched her go, a mix of relief and guilt washing over him. He had ended things with her, but now he was left with the harder task: facing you.

He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his messages until he found Sam’s text thread again.

Bucky: It’s done. I ended it.

Sam: Finally. Now, what’s your plan with Y/N?

Bucky stared at the screen for a long moment, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. What was his plan? All he knew was that he couldn’t avoid you any longer.

High school - Junior Year

The bleachers creaked beneath you as you shifted, pulling your hoodie tighter around you against the crisp autumn air. The Friday night lights cast a golden glow over the football field, illuminating the players as they huddled together, the crowd buzzing with energy. But your attention wasn’t on the game—it was on the boy sitting next to you.

Bucky, with his ever-present leather jacket slung over his hoodie, was leaning back against the bleachers, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His eyes, usually so sharp and focused, were soft tonight, lazily following the movement on the field.

“You’re not even watching the game,” you teased, nudging his arm with your elbow.

Bucky smirked, tilting his head to look at you. “And you are?”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “I’m here for moral support. Steve’s playing, remember?”

“Ah, right,” Bucky said, nodding solemnly. “Go team.”

You laughed, the sound light and easy, and he grinned, clearly pleased with himself. For a moment, the two of you just sat there, the noise of the game fading into the background as the chilly breeze swept through the bleachers.

Bucky leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “You cold?”

You shrugged, even though you were. “I’m fine.”

Without a word, Bucky shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

“Bucky, I’m fine,” you protested, but you didn’t make a move to take it off. The warmth and the familiar scent of leather and something distinctly him were too comforting.

“Just take it,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “I’ve got a built-in heater.” He flexed his arms, grinning. “These guns.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you love it,” he shot back, his voice teasing but soft.

Your heart did a little flip, and you ducked your head, hoping he didn’t notice the heat rising to your cheeks.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught movement as Steve jogged past the bleachers, heading toward the sideline. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, his eyes flicking between you and Bucky. He offered a quick wave before disappearing back into the game.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, smirking as he nudged your shoulder. “You see that?”

“See what?” you asked, confused.

“The way Steve was looking over here,” Bucky said, his smirk widening as he leaned back against the bleachers. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s got a little crush.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Steve? Please.”

But Bucky wasn’t done. When Steve came jogging back after the next play, Bucky waved him over, his grin turning mischievous. “Hey, Rogers!”

Steve looked slightly hesitant but made his way over, catching his breath. “What’s up?”

Bucky nudged him playfully. “You’ve been sneaking glances over here all night. Something you wanna share with the class?”

Steve’s face turned a little red, and he quickly shook his head. “Yeah, right, Buck,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Bucky laughed, giving him a light shove. “Relax, man. Just saying, if you’ve got a crush, you’ve got good taste.”

Steve shot him a look, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. “You’re impossible,” he muttered before heading back to the field.

You watched him go, feeling a mix of amusement and curiosity. “You’re such a troublemaker.”

“Hey, it’s my job,” Bucky said, leaning in close, his voice low. “Besides, he totally does.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened as Bucky’s arm brushed yours. “You’re imagining things.”

“Maybe,” Bucky said, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. “Maybe not.”

The air between you felt charged again, like it had earlier. But before you could say anything, the crowd erupted in cheers, breaking the moment. Steve had scored, and the entire crowd was on its feet, clapping and shouting.

“Atta boy, Steve!” Bucky cheered, clapping lazily.

You joined in, your heart still racing, but the spell was broken. The unspoken tension hung in the air, unacknowledged but palpable.

As the night wore on, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Bucky, wondering what might have happened if the game hadn’t interrupted.

Thursday Night

The apartment was quiet except for the faint hum of your playlist as you sat at your vanity, carefully applying the final touches of makeup for your date with Dean. It had been a whirlwind week—four dates in five days—and each one had been incredible. Dean was sweet, funny, and attentive. Every moment with him felt easy, light.

But even as you smiled at the thought of him, a familiar ache tugged at your chest. You missed Bucky. You missed Natasha. Sure, you’d been talking to Wanda, Sam, and especially Steve, but it wasn’t the same. Natasha was your person, your closest confidante. And Bucky? Well, Bucky was Bucky.

Steve had been your rock through everything lately, always ready with a kind word or a listening ear. But even with his unwavering support, you’d noticed something different in him recently—a lingering sadness in his eyes, or maybe it was just weariness. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were burdening him with all your baggage. So, you’d started keeping things to yourself.

Like the kiss.

Your first kiss with Dean had been sweet, gentle, and everything a first kiss should be. But even in that perfect moment, your mind had wandered back to Bucky’s kiss in college—deep, passionate, and all-consuming. You shook your head, trying to push the thought away.

You were determined to move on.

Your heart skipped a beat. Before you could decide how to feel, there was a knock at the door.

Your phone buzzed with a message, pulling you out of your thoughts. You glanced at the screen:

Natasha: It’s me.

Taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened it. Natasha stood there, her usual confidence softened by something more vulnerable. Without a word, she stepped inside, her eyes locking onto yours.

“I love you,” she said, her voice firm but gentle. “I miss you. And I hate having to hear about your dates from Dean at work, pretending like i know already. I can’t stand it. I want to hear about them from you.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha continued, pacing slightly. “But I just hate seeing you sad. And yes, I’ve been mad at Bucky, but I know he’s not some horrible person. I understand his side too. Please, let’s just forget about it all, okay?”

Her words hit you like a wave, and you felt the weight of the past few days lift slightly. A small smile crept onto your face.

“Dean and I kissed,” you said, your voice light.

Natasha’s eyes widened, and she gasped dramatically. “Wait, what? No way, your kidding?" She paused looking you up and down, her eyes widening further "Are you seeing him again tonight?!”

You laughed, nodding "This will be 5 times this week.”

“Oh my god!! I’m so proud of you!” Natasha squealed, grabbing your hands.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m trying.”

Natasha grinned but then paused, her expression growing serious. “I heard you haven’t seen or talked to Bucky yet, this has been the longest since--"

Your smile faded "High School" You finished nodding. “No. I’ve been… avoiding him.”

She bit her lip, then hesitated before speaking again. “He broke up with Kate.”

You froze. “What?”

Natasha nodded, her voice gentle. “I just think you need all the information. Whatever you want to do with it is up to you. But I’ll always support you, no matter what.”

You stared at her, your thoughts spinning. Bucky had ended things with Kate? You’d spent the past few days convincing yourself that moving on with Dean was the right path, but now… everything felt complicated again.

Natasha squeezed your hand. “Take your time. Figure out what you want. Ill be here for anything and everything, okay?”

You nodded slowly, her words sinking in as you tried to steady your racing heart.

The elevator ride down to the lobby was a blur, your heart still racing from Natasha’s revelation. By the time you stepped out onto the street, you’d pushed the thought of Bucky breaking up with Kate to the back of your mind. Tonight wasn’t about him; it was about Dean.

You spotted him immediately, leaning casually against his car, dressed in a dark button-down that hugged his frame perfectly. His eyes lit up when he saw you, and he pushed off the car, meeting you halfway.

“Wow,” he said, his gaze sweeping over you. “You look incredible, you always do"

You smiled, feeling a slight heat creep up your neck. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

Dean grinned, offering his arm. “Shall we?”

You linked your arm with his, and he led you to the car, opening the door with a flourish. “Such a gentleman,” you teased as you slid into the passenger seat.

“Only the best for you,” he replied with a wink before closing the door and jogging around to the driver’s side.

The restaurant he chose was cozy, dimly lit with soft jazz playing in the background. The warm ambiance wrapped around you like a comforting hug as a host led you to a small table near the back, tucked away just enough to feel intimate.

Dean pulled out your chair, and you laughed softly. “Still keeping up the gentleman act, huh?”

“Always,” he said, leaning in slightly as he took his seat across from you. “Gotta keep you impressed.”

“Mission accomplished,” you replied, taking the menu from him. “So, what’s good here?”

Dean leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he watched you with an easy smile. “Everything, but you can’t go wrong with the lobster ravioli.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you’re getting?”

“Absolutely,” he said with a nod. “But if you want to try something else, we can share. I’m a generous guy.”

You smirked. “Good to know.”

As the evening went on, the conversation flowed effortlessly. Dean had a way of making you feel at ease, his charm disarming and his humor sharp. He told stories about his travels, painting vivid pictures of cities and adventures that made you laugh and lean in closer.

“So there I was,” Dean said, his hands animated as he recounted a tale of narrowly avoiding disaster on a hiking trip. “One wrong step, and I would’ve been headfirst into the river. My buddy still doesn’t let me live it down.”

You giggled, sipping your wine. “You seem like you get into a lot of near-death situations.”

“What can I say? I live life on the edge,” he teased, his voice dropping slightly as his foot nudged yours under the table. “But don’t worry, I’m always careful when it counts.”

Your stomach fluttered at the subtle contact, and you found yourself leaning forward, resting your chin on your hand. “Is that so?”

Dean’s eyes darkened slightly, his gaze flickering to your lips. “It is,” he said softly, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “Like right now. Sitting here with you… I want to make sure every moment counts.”

You felt your breath hitch, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm blanket. His hand reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. The touch was light but deliberate, sending a spark up your arm.

“I’m glad you gave me a chance,” he said, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of your hand. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met someone like you.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Someone like me?”

Dean nodded, his gaze steady. “Smart, funny, beautiful… someone who knows what they want but doesn’t take themselves too seriously. You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”

You felt your cheeks heat up, and you laughed softly, trying to deflect. “You’ve got a pretty smooth way with words, Dean.”

He grinned. “They're not just words. I mean it.”

The waiter arrived then, breaking the moment as he set your plates down with a polite smile. You and Dean pulled back slightly, but the air between you remained charged.

As you both dug into your meals, the conversation picked up again, filled with laughter and shared bites of food. Dean’s foot found yours again under the table, and this time you didn’t pull away. Instead, you pressed back slightly, a small smile tugging at your lips.

When the check arrived, Dean insisted on paying, waving off your protests. “You can get the next one,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

“Next one, huh?” you teased as you stood.

“Oh, absolutely,” he said, offering his hand as you walked out of the restaurant. “I’m already planning it in my head.”

The night air was cool as you stepped outside, and Dean turned to you, his hand still holding yours. “Walk with me?” he asked.

You nodded, and the two of you strolled down the quiet street, the city lights casting a soft glow. Dean’s arm brushed against yours occasionally, each touch sending a warm pulse through you.

Finally, he stopped, turning to face you. His hand found its way to your cheek, his thumb gently grazing your skin. “I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” he murmured before leaning in.

His lips met yours in a gentle, tender kiss, his other hand settling on your waist. The kiss was slow and sweet, filled with a quiet intensity that made your heart race. You leaned into him, your hands resting on his chest as you let yourself get lost in the moment.

When you finally pulled back, Dean rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Perfect,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

You smiled, feeling a mix of warmth and a lingering ache. “Yeah… perfect.”

As you and Dean walked hand in hand through the city streets, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, filled with easy laughter. The warmth between you was undeniable, but there was still a small knot of tension in your chest, one you couldn’t quite shake.

Dean glanced at you, his expression thoughtful. “So, Natasha mentioned something interesting the other day.”

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow, curious but wary of what Nat might’ve said.

“Yeah,” he said, his tone light. “She told me about this tradition you and your friends have. Every Friday night, you all meet up at your favorite bar?”

You smiled softly. “That’s true. It’s kind of a ritual for us. We’ve been doing it for years.”

Dean nodded, his eyes warm. “She also mentioned that people you’re seeing are allowed to come along.”

You froze for a second, your heart skipping a beat. “She did, huh?”

He gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Look, I know we haven’t put a label on anything yet, and I get that you want to take things slow. I respect that, completely. But I just want you to know that I’m in this if you are. And if you’re comfortable, I’d love to meet your friends. Natasha always talks about how close you all are, and honestly… it sounds amazing.”

You hesitated, your thoughts immediately drifting to Bucky. Things with Natasha had started to smooth over, but the idea of bringing Dean into the fold brought a new wave of uncertainty. Would Bucky even be there? And if he was, how would he react?

But then again… Bucky or no Bucky, you couldn’t avoid him forever. You literally lived together, and at some point, you’d have to face him. Maybe doing it with your friends around, with Dean by your side, would make it easier. Maybe it was time to stop letting Bucky’s presence dictate your decisions.

You took a deep breath, forcing the knot in your chest to loosen. “Okay,” you said finally, your voice steady. “Yeah, I’d love for you to meet my family.”

Dean’s eyes lit up, his smile widening. “Family, huh? That close?”

You nodded, a fond smile tugging at your lips. “Yup. They’ve been my rock through everything. We’ve been through a lot together.”

“I can’t wait to meet them,” he said, his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze. “And hey, no pressure. If it gets too much, we’ll leave. I’m there for you, no matter what.”

You smiled, grateful for his understanding. “Thank you, Dean. That means a lot.”

“Of course,” he said softly. “You’re kind of incredible, you know that?”

"You said that already" Your cheeks warmed, and you leaned into him as the two of you continued your walk, the tension in your chest easing just a little.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes au #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader angst

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doctorbitchcrxft · 1 year ago

Text

Wendigo | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, Dean's a dick but so is the reader

Word Count: 8817

A/N: Happy Saturday! Enjoy the next chapter!! Taglist/Requests are open!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

You were curled up against the backseat of the Impala writing in your journal and humming along to Dean’s Foreigner cassette tape when Sam jerked awake in the front seat. You jerked up as well, concerned.

Dean shot his brother a worried look. “You okay?”

Sam blinked and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I'm fine.”

“Bull. Nightmare?” you asked.

The younger brother just cleared his throat in response.

“You wanna drive for a while?” Dean asked.

You and Sam gave him an incredulous look.

“Dean, your whole life you never once asked me that,” he laughed.

“Just thought you might want to. Never mind.” He rolled his eyes and returned them to the road.

“Look, man, you’re worried about me,” Sam sighed. “I get it, and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay.”

His brother just hummed in response.

“I’ll take you up on that driving offer, though,” you chimed in.

“Not a chance, sweetheart.”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“And I told you I wasn’t listening.”

“Dick.”

Dean just scoffed in response.

Sam’s unfolding of a map brought the conversation back on track. “All right, where are we?”

“Just outside of Grand Junction,” you answered. You leaned over his shoulder and pointed at the spot labeled “Grand Junction” and drew a trail with your finger over to a spot labeled with the coordinates Dean had found in John’s journal.

Sam hesitated before speaking again. “You know what? Maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon.”

Dean shook his head. “Sam, we dug around there for a week. We came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica—”

“We gotta find Dad first,” Sam finished.

“Dad disappearing and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it's no coincidence.”

“Wait, showing up again?” you asked. Even after poking around at Stanford, this was the first you’d heard of a previous encounter with the creature.

“I thought Sam would’ve told you,” Dean said.

“Told me what?”

Sam turned to face you. “You remember what I said about my mom dying? She died the same way Jess did.”

You nodded in solemn understanding.

The car went quiet again; the silence only broken by the older brother. “Dad will have answers. He'll know what to do.”

Sam scanned the map again. “It's weird, man. These coordinates he left us. This Blackwater Ridge.”

“What about it?” you asked, putting your chin on Sam’s shoulder to look at the map.

“There's nothing there. It's just woods.” He put down the map, looking past your head at Dean. “Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?”

Dean just shrugged in response.

The three of you found yourselves in a ranger’s station in Lost Creek National Forest just outside of Blackwater Ridge. You and Sam scanned a three-dimensional map of the forest atop a large table in the center of the room.

“So Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote.” The brunet tapped his finger against the ridge’s label on the map. “It's cut off by these canyons here, rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place.”

However, his brother’s attention could not be pulled away from a picture on the wall. “Dude, check out the size of this freaking bear.”

You walked over to him, and he was right. The thing was massive. The man standing behind its corpse looked like a dwarf in comparison.

“There’s about a dozen or so grizzlies in the area,” you added.

You and the boys were startled by a ranger’s voice coming from behind you. “You three aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?”

“Oh, no, sir, we're environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper,” Sam assured him, laughing awkwardly.

Dean grinned and raised a fist. “Recycle, man.”

‘I could hit him. Jackass.’

The ranger obviously did not believe him. “Bull.”

Your eyes flicked to Dean, who was unmoving.

“You're friends with that Haley girl, right?” the ranger continued.

“Yes. Yes, we are, Ranger— Wilkinson.” Dean faltered only to read the ranger’s name tag.

“Well I will tell you exactly what we told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing persons now, is it?”

You shook your head.

“You tell that girl to quit worrying, I'm sure her brother's just fine.”

“We will.” Dean paused only for a moment. “Well, that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?”

“That is putting it mildly.”

You laughed. ‘I’m sure we’d get along great.’

“Actually,” Dean stopped the ranger from leaving the room. “You know what would help is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit. You know, so she could see her brother's return date.”

The ranger eyed Dean curiously, but still got him a copy of the permit.

Dean laughed smugly as the three of you left the station, waving the paper around.

“What are you, five?” you asked him.

“Listen, sweetheart, I consider this a major success.” You quirked a brow at him, mildly annoyed he called you that stupid name again. “This eliminates a lot of the groundwork we normally have to do.”

“Fair point,” you shrugged.

Sam broke the somewhat comfortable silence. “Are you cruising for a hookup or something?”

Considering the thought you’d just had, you were taken slightly aback. “What do you mean?”

“The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?” Sam was more talking pointedly at Dean and not you. You came to a stop on your respective sides of the Impala.

You couldn’t quite see Dean over the top of the car. “I don't know, maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?”

You could practically feel the look Dean was giving Sam.

“What?” the brunet scoffed.

“Since when are you all shoot-first-ask-questions-later, anyway?”

“Since now.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, biting the inside of your lip. “Really?’ you muttered, getting down into the car.

***

Sam walked a little further up the walkway to the Collins house than you and Dean did.

“Forty-five minutes in that copy room for this?” you inspected Dean’s small, fake park ranger ID.

“Can’t rush art, sweetheart.”

“Now you’re just working it into every sentence because you know it aggravates me.”

"Yup,” Dean chuckled.

You smirked lopsidedly and Dean knocked on Haley Collins’s front door. A quite beautiful, dark-haired girl opened it moments later.

“You must be Haley Collins. I'm Dean, this is Sam, and (Y/N), we're, ah, we're rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. He wanted us to ask a few questions about your brother Tommy.”

Haley hesitated. “Lemme see some ID.”

Dean held up the ID you’d previously been inspecting to the screen door. The girl looked between the ID and Dean.

“Come on in.”

“Thanks.”

The door swung open, allowing Haley to catch a glimpse of the Impala. “That yours?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice car.” She began leading the three of you into the home.

Dean looked back at Sam, mouthing something excitedly to him that you couldn’t quite make out. You rolled your eyes. You decided then and there you would push your attraction to him to the side for the rest of the time you were working with the brothers. To you, he was just an asshole playboy.

Sam’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. “So if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?”

You took in the sight of the table set for dinner and a young boy who looked to be about thirteen already picking at his plate of food.

Haley entered the room with a bowl and placed it onto the table. “He checks in every day by cell. He emails, photos, stupid little videos—we haven't heard anything in over three days now.”

“Well, maybe he can't get cell reception,” you suggested.

“He's got a satellite phone, too.”

‘Well, there goes that theory.’

“Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?” Dean threw in.

The teenage boy clanked his fork against his plate, sharply stating, “He wouldn't do that.”

You eyed the boy, getting a read on him.

“Our parents are gone,” Haley said. “It's just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other.”

You nodded in understanding. As much as you were trying to dislike her, it wasn’t working all that well.

“Can I see the pictures he sent you?” Sam asked.

Haley pulled out her laptop to show Sam the folder of pictures and videos her brother had sent her. “That's Tommy.” You could hear the sadness in her voice.

She clicked through to the most recent video.

A scruffy, presumably twenty-five year old man appeared onscreen. “Hey Haley, day six, we're still out near Blackwater Ridge. We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow.”

Something flickered past outside the young man’s tent. Your brows furrowed.

“Well, we'll find your brother. We're heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing,” Dean assured her.

“Then maybe I'll see you there,” she answered. “Look, I can't sit around here anymore. So I hired a guy. I'm heading out in the morning, and I'm gonna find Tommy myself.”

“I think I know how you feel.”

Your eyes flicked over to Dean, growing angry at what you assumed to be an attempt at seducing the girl.

‘She’s mourning the potential loss of her brother, and you’re gonna try and charm her? Asshole.’

The younger Winchester once again broke you out of your thoughts. “Hey, do you mind forwarding these to me?”

“Sure.” Haley clicked away on her laptop again.

***

You and the boys wound up at a bar. The table was covered in newspapers, John’s journal, and beer bottles; some full and some half empty.

“So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic. Local campers, mostly. But still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found.”

You gestured to John’s journal, which Sam slid over to you. You began flipping through it.

“Any before that?” Dean asked.

Sam pulled out a newspaper to show his brother. “Yeah, in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack.”

You leaned across the table, squinting at the headline. You felt Dean’s eyes flick to your breasts that had subsequently been pushed up in your wife beater as you leaned over.

You glared at him. “Stay focused, Winchester.”

Dean rolled his eyes, apparently unable to find his way to a witty response. You turned your attention back to the headline that read, “ GRIZZLY BEAR ATTACKS! UP TO EIGHT HIKERS VANISH IN LOST CREEK AREA.”

Sam pulled out his laptop. “Before that, 1959 and 1936. Every twenty-three years, just like clockwork.”

“You have WiFi in here?” you questioned.

“Don’t need it. Just wanted to look at Haley’s video.” He pulled it up from a folder on his screen.

“Oh, shit. I almost forgot. Can I see that?” You hopped off your stool to get between the two brothers. “Watch this.” You clicked through the three frames of the video containing the shadow you’d seen flash across the screen. “That's three frames. That's a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move.”

Dean reached across you to hit Sam’s shoulder. “Told you something weird was going on.”

Sam rolled his eyes, closing his laptop. “Yeah. I got one more thing.” He put a newspaper article between you and Dean. “In 'fifty-nine one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. Just a kid. Barely crawled out of the woods alive.”

You skimmed the article briefly. “Is there a name?”

The only survivor of the attack in the article Sam showed you and Dean was a child at the time. He now lived a life of what appeared to be solitude. He drove a beat up truck that was parked haphazardly in his driveway and lived several miles out of the city. You took in the poor old man’s messy house as he led your trio into his living room.

“Look, ranger, I don't know why you're asking me about this. It's public record. I was a kid. My parents got mauled by a—”

Sam interrupted him. “Grizzly? That's what attacked them?”

Mr. Shaw lit a cigarette, took a deep puff, and nodded.

“The other people that went missing that year, those bear attacks too?” Dean’s tone was slightly pointed. “What about all the people that went missing this year? Same thing?”

The old man continued to take drags of his cigarette. He seemed almost scared to entertain any other explanation aside from a grizzly bear attack.

Dean continued to pressure him. “If we knew what we were dealing with, we might be able to stop it.”

Mr. Shaw shook his head. “I seriously doubt that. Anyways, I don't see what difference it would make.” He sat down in his recliner. “You wouldn't believe me. Nobody ever did.”

Sam sat down opposite the old man. “Mr. Shaw, what did you see?”

“Nothing. It moved too fast to see. It hid too well. I heard it, though. A roar. Like... no man or animal I ever heard.”

“It came at night?”

He nodded.

“Got inside your tent?”

“It got inside our cabin. I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn't smash a window or break the door. It unlocked it.”

You tried to keep your face from conveying your intrigue and tinge of fear.

“Do you know of a bear that could do something like that? I didn't even wake up till I heard my parents screaming.” You could see Mr. Shaw becoming lost in his mind.

“It killed them?” Sam continued.

“Dragged them off into the night.” The old man shook his head as if to shake away the memories. “Why it left me alive... been asking myself that ever since.” He took a brief pause before reaching to the collar of his wife beater. “Did leave me this, though.” He pulled it down to reveal three long, deep claw mark scars. Through morbid curiosity, you were tempted to run your fingers over the jagged edges of the scarring. You couldn’t imagine how painful and angry the marks must have been when the poor man first got them.

“There's something evil in those woods. It was some sort of a demon.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Shaw. We’re sorry about your parents,” you told him, turning away. “Have a good night, sir.”

Mr. Shaw seemed too caught up in his own head to respond with more than a wave, letting a cloud of smoke slither out of his mouth.

*** Later that night, you and the boys had just booked a room in yet another crappy motel.

‘One of these days I’ll treat myself to a stay in a halfway decent hotel.’

Before the three of you would be turning in for the night, you were headed to Dean’s car to pack your bags for the early morning you were about to have.

“Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors.” Dean broke your train of thought. “If they want inside, they just go through the walls.”

“So it's probably something else, something corporeal,” Sam said.

“Corporeal? Look at you, smartass,” you laughed.

“Shut up. So what do you think?”

“The claws, the speed that it moves…” Dean trailed off. “Could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog. Whatever we're talking about, we're talking about a creature, and it's corporeal. Which means we can kill it.”

“True,” you started. “But how are you gonna know what to bring to kill it with if we have no idea what it is?”

“Just trust me on this one,” Dean replied. “There’s not much a gun won’t be able to take care of.” He let the door to the motel almost completely swing shut behind him; nearly hitting you in the face.

You caught it just in time. “Right, right. Just like you ‘took care’ of Constance by shooting her.”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” Dean raised a brow at you, just barely turning over his shoulder to give you his response. He started busying himself in the weapons box in the back of his car.

“I mean, just barely. Nearly caught me in the crossfire.”

Dean rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically. “And what a shame that would’ve been.”

“Hey!” You shoved his shoulder with yours.

He glared at you in response.

Sam, who had been quiet the last few minutes, spoke up. “We cannot let that Haley girl go out there.”

His brother was rummaging through the weapons box; haphazardly throwing guns into his duffel bag. “Oh yeah? What are we gonna tell her? That she can't go into the woods because of a big scary monster?”

You found a shotgun that was slightly smaller than the rest, giving it a once over before moving to put it in a duffel bag of your own. Before you could fully get it settled in the bag, Dean took it from you.

You went to protest, but Sam cut you off by saying, “Yeah,” as if it was obvious.

Dean turned his attention away from you and your shotgun long enough for you to steal it back.

“Her brother's missing, Sam,” he tried to reason. “She's not gonna just sit this out. Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend.”

Dean seemed to notice you had taken the gun back and glared at you. He picked up his own duffel, and you closed the weapons cavity.

“Finding Dad’s not enough?” Sam countered while you closed the trunk. “Now we gotta babysit too?”

You and Dean gave Sam a look.

“What?” he snapped.

You shook your head.

“Nothing,” Dean replied. He threw the duffel bag at him and walked off.

***

You yawned and pulled yourself into a tighter ball on the backseat of Dean’s Impala. You hadn’t gotten much sleep last night for a reason you couldn’t quite place.

“Don’t get too comfortable, sweetheart, we’re here,” Dean told you.

“Fuck.” You grabbed yours and Dean’s duffel bags off the seat next to you and got out of the car to feel loose gravel grating against your boots.

A man who looked to be in his late fifties was up ahead of you next to a Jeep with Haley and the teenager you recognized as Haley’s younger brother. You approached the other three from behind Sam and Dean.

“You guys got room for three more?” the older brother asked.

Haley crossed her arms. “Wait, you want to come with us?”

“Who are these guys?” The older man pointed at your group.

“Apparently this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue.”

Sam headed past everyone, and you followed.

You assumed the middle-aged man was the guide Haley had talked about hiring the previous day. He was very skeptical of the three of you. “You're rangers?”

Dean’s confidence never wavered. “That's right.”

“And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?” Haley was apparently skeptical, too.

“Well, sweetheart, I don't do shorts.”

‘That’s what he calls me.’ You couldn’t quite understand the pang that went through your chest when he used that nickname for her. You pushed the thought aside once again, reminding yourself that you weren’t special in Dean’s eyes. To you, he was becoming more of a playboy asshole with each passing moment. You hoped your attraction to his beautiful green eyes and sharp jawline would soon turn to disdain.

Speaking of which, he appeared next to you as the guide spoke once more. “What, you think this is funny? It's dangerous back country out there. Her brother might be hurt.”

You turned around, trying to explain Dean’s attitude away. “He knows that. He just has a funny way of showing it.” You hoped Dean didn’t miss the bite in your tone. And from the way you could feel his glare burning a hole through your skull, you were sure it wasn’t lost on him.

The guide shook his head, brushing past you and the brothers. He headed into the forest, and you followed a few paces behind. You would never admit it, but the woods had always unsettled you just a bit. You tightened your grip on your bag and pushed forward.

Dean had apparently learned the guide’s name from Haley while you were lost in your own anxiety. “Roy, you said you did a little hunting.” He quickened his step to pass you and get up next to Roy.

“Yeah, more than a little.” The response came gruff and disinterested.

“Uh-huh. What kind of furry critters do you hunt?”

You could feel where this was going. ‘Don’t fucking provoke him, Winchester.’

“Mostly buck, sometimes bear.” The disinterest was ever present in Roy’s tone as he continued to scan the treeline in front of him.

Dean passed him up, doing that obnoxiously confident backwards walk again. “Tell me, uh, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?”

Suddenly, Roy grabbed Dean’s jacket roughly. You nearly flinched.

“Whatcha doing, Roy?” Dean’s tone had hardened.

Roy grabbed a stick, and peering around Dean you could see the jaws of a bear trap close around it inches from Dean’s boot.

“You should watch where you're stepping. Ranger.”

‘Damn.’

Roy dropped the stick and took the lead once more.

Dean turned around to the rest of the group. “It's a bear trap.”

You scoffed.

You could hear Haley’s quickened step crunching leaves as she passed you to catch up to Dean. “You didn't pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a duffel bag. You're not rangers.” She grabbed his arm, spinning him to face her. “So who the hell are you?”

The teenage boy passed his sister and Dean. You and Sam hesitated behind Haley, shooting Dean a quizzical look. Dean jerked his head for the two of you to go on. You followed Sam forward, but hung back close enough that you could hear Dean and Haley’s conversation.

“Sam and I are brothers, and we're looking for our father. (Y/N) is—” you were interested in this explanation, “—a friend of ours.”

‘Oh, so we’re friends now.’

“He might be here, we don't know. I just figured that you and me, we're in the same boat.”

“Why didn't you just tell me that from the start?”

“I'm telling you now. 'sides, it's probably the most honest I've ever been with a woman. ...ever. So, we okay?”

‘Wonder how many times he’s used that line.’ You caught that same squeeze happening in your chest happening again. You desperately wished to get ahold of yourself and snap out of it. ‘He’s just pretty to look at. He’s a complete douche. Get it together, girl.’

You had missed Haley’s response to Dean’s “heartfelt” admission, but heard “And what do you mean I didn't pack provisions?” You heard the rustling of a plastic bag behind you, and remembered the bag of peanut M&Ms he had bought at a gas station before coming here. You heard Dean start walking again, and you hurried ahead to catch up with Sam and not look like you were snooping.

Dean had apparently noticed you were hanging back and chuckled to himself. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

He walked up beside you. “Jealous?”

“What?” you turned to him, feigning disgust. “Fuck no.”

“So… you were just snooping because…?”

You wanted to smack the smug grin off his face. His amusement at your aggravation riled you up even more. “I was just curious what she thought of us. And to be frank, I don’t exactly trust your ability to explain things away. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” You knew he didn’t believe you. “That’s all.”

You petulantly stole the bag of peanut M&Ms from him.

“Hey! (Y/N)!”

You marched on.

“This is it. Blackwater Ridge,” Roy announced after what felt like hours of walking. Your anxiety around getting lost in the forest was only deepening. That was what it all boiled down to. You had a fear of not being in control, and the idea of a place where every “landmark” looked the same, wildlife ruled the terrain, and being alone in it was pretty much a death sentence, scared you pretty severely. Not to mention, the time you almost bled to death in the middle of the woods had another hunter not found you.

You had no means of identifying where you’d come back from. All the trees seemed the same to you. You had no idea how you were going to get back to the car at the end of the day; if you were even going to make it out of here by the end of the day. You had been walking for so long that you were sure you’d be sleeping out here tonight. The thought of that frightened you even more.

What truly unsettled you was that the sounds you had been hearing up until you made it to Blackwater Ridge— crickets, leaves rustling, birds chirping— all of it had been silenced.

“I'm gonna go take a look around,” Roy announced.

The younger Winchester stopped him. “You shouldn't go off by yourself.”

Roy’s snark almost rivaled Dean’s. “That's sweet. Don't worry about me.” He waved his gun around and pushed between the two brothers to head deeper into the forest.

Dean turned to the rest of your group. “Alright, everybody stays together. Let's go.”

‘Great. More fucking woods.’ You marched forward, trying to put on a brave face.

Sam’s eyes softened when he caught sight of you. “You okay?”

Apparently, your “brave face” wasn’t as brave as you thought. “Yeah, why?”

“You look… kinda nervous.”

“Yeah, I am. I’m, uh, kinda scared of the forest, honestly.”

“Aw, sweetheart,” Dean’s mocking tone interrupted your vulnerable moment. “You’re scared of a little woods?” He jutted out his bottom lip, feigning a pout.

“Fuck off, Winchester. I’m fine.”

“Whoa, touchy. Relax.” Dean held his hands up in surrender. “Was just poking fun, that’s all.”

“Okay, well, it wasn’t funny. So, fuck off.” You rushed ahead, still white-knuckling the duffel bag on your shoulder.

Before Dean could catch up to you or respond, Roy called out from quite a bit ahead. “Haley! Over here!”

Haley took off in the direction of Roy’s voice, closely followed by you. Haley froze at the sight in front of her. “Oh, my God.”

In the clearing Roy had found, bloodied, torn open tents surrounded mutilated camping supplies and backpacks. Deep gashes in the tent material and the surrounding trees were jagged and stained with blood around the edges. The sight wasn’t making your queasiness any better.

“Looks like a grizzly.”

‘No, it doesn’t, Roy,’ you thought.

Haley’s backpack hit the ground next to you, and she tore through the campsite; screaming her brother’s name.

Sam moved to quiet her down. She kept screaming. A much harsher “Shh!” passed Sam’s lips, finally getting the girl to settle down.

“Why?” she questioned defensively.

“Something might still be out there,” he answered.

Dean called his brother’s name from the other end of the campsite. You followed Sam over to the sound of Dean’s voice.

You crouched down next to Sam. Dean snapped a stick and pointed to a set of drag marks on the ground. “The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here, the tracks just vanish. That's weird. I'll tell you what, that's no skinwalker or black dog.”

The three of you stood and returned to the campsite to find Haley crying on the ground over her brother’s broken and bloodied phone.

“Hey, he could still be alive,” Dean told her. She shot him a confused and slightly angry look.

Out of nowhere, a scratchy male voice started gutturally calling, “Help! Help!”

Roy was quick to run to the shouter’s aid. However, you weren’t so sure it was a real person screaming like that.

“Help! Somebody!” came again.

The brothers started off to follow Roy.

“Wait, guys!” you called, not wanting to be left alone despite your hesitation.

“C’mon, (Y/N)!” Sam called.

You dropped your duffel in your rush to follow Sam’s voice. When you found where the group had gathered, you could see the brothers searching the treeline. You licked your teeth, upset that your intuition was right. Your group had found no one.

“It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?” Haley said, confused.

“Everybody get back to camp,” you ordered.

You followed the path you were pretty sure would get you back to the mangled campsite. Thankfully, your sense of direction was right, but all of your supplies had been taken by the time you returned.

“Our packs!” Haley exclaimed.

Roy grumbled, “So much for my GPS and my satellite phone.”

“What the hell is going on?” Haley was catching on.

“It’s smart. It’s trying to isolate us so we can’t call for help. It knows we won’t last long without supplies,” you stated.

“You mean someone, some nutjob out there just stole all our gear.” The guide’s voice was hard and angry.

“I need to speak with you two. In private.” You pulled the brothers aside by their jackets. Dean shrugged your hand off him.

“Can I see your dad’s journal?” you asked. Yours had been taken along with your duffel bag.

“No, why?” Dean asked petulantly.

“Please, dude, c’mon.” You were not in the mood.

“Give it to her, Dean,” Sam chimed in.

Dean rolled his eyes and handed it over.

You flipped through until you found a page marked by a First Nations-style drawing of a tall figure with long claws labeled “Wendigo.” You looked up at the boys expectantly.

“Oh, come on, wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or, or northern Michigan. I've never even heard of one this far west,” Dean responded.

“Think about it, Dean, the claws, the way it can mimic a human voice,” you tried to reason.

“Great.” He took his pistol out of his belt. “Well, then this is useless.”

“I told you guns don’t work on everything,” you quipped.

“Shut up.”

Sam took the journal from you and handed it back to his brother. “We gotta get these people to safety.” He led you and Dean back to the group. “All right, listen up, it's time to go. Things have gotten...more complicated.”

Haley seemed pissed. “What?”

“Kid, don't worry.” Roy’s tone was almost patronizing. “Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it.”

“It's not me I'm worried about. If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave. Now,” Sam countered.

“One, you're talking nonsense. Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders.” Roy was now getting in Sam’s face.

“C’mon, Roy, chill out,” you told him, pressing a hand to Sam’s chest to keep him from stepping to Roy.

Sam let you keep your hand there, but still bit back at Roy. “We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right? I'm trying to protect you.”

“You protect me? I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you good night.” The guide was so close you could smell the chewing tobacco on his breath.

Sam still refused to back down. “Yeah? It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's smarter than you, and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid sorry ass out of here.”

Roy laughed mockingly. “You know you're crazy, right?”

“Yeah? You ever hunt a wen—”

Dean pushed you out the way and shoved his brother back. “Relax!”

Haley got between you, the boys, and Roy. “Stop. Stop it. Everybody just stop. Look. Tommy might still be alive. And I'm not leaving here without him.”

You considered for a moment the implications of what may happen if you allowed them to stay.

Dean broke the silence. “It's getting late. This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night. We'll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves.”

“How?” Haley asked.

“I’m not gonna sugarcoat this,” you began. “We don’t really have the time for the ‘monsters under the bed are real’ talk. This thing is a Wendigo. I’m gonna start carving some symbols into the ground. No one crosses the circle once I’ve drawn it. Got it?”

Haley nodded at you. “What can I do?”

“Build a fire with— sorry, I never caught his name,” you gestured to the teenager next to her.

“Ben,” Haley told you.

“Ben. You two start gathering enough wood and tinder to keep a fire going. Don’t go too far, though, please.”

She and Ben nodded at you before setting off.

“Thank you,” you called after the Collins siblings. “Sam, Dean, help me with the Anasazi symbols.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean said. You were surprised at his compliance.

After a while of scuttling across the forest floor drawing a circle of Anasazi symbols around the campsite, the sun had set. Haley and Ben had long since returned and were tending the fire. As you finished the last symbol, you brushed the dirt off your hands on your jeans.

Haley looked up at you from her place by the fire. “One more time, that's—”

“Anasazi symbols. It's for protection,” Dean explained. “The wendigo can't cross over them.”

Roy laughed, feeling the need to assert the fact he thought this was bullshit.

“Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy,” Dean told him, clearly fatigued of the man’s attitude.

Roy turned his attention back to the treeline with his gun over his shoulder. You followed Dean over to where Sam sat away from the group at the edge of the campsite.

“You wanna tell me what's going on in that freaky head of yours?” Dean asked his brother.

“Dean—” the younger one began to protest. You sat down next to him.

“No, you're not fine.” Of course, he already knew what Sam was going to say. “You're like a powder keg, man, it's not like you. I'm supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?”

You laughed. “Yeah, I’ve got enough of that attitude with just him, Sam.”

Dean nudged the tip of your boot with his harshly. You returned his glare petulantly.

“Dad's not here. I mean, that much we know for sure, right? He would have left us a message, a sign, right?” Sam’s mind was clearly going a mile a minute.

“Yeah, you're probably right. Tell you the truth, I don't think Dad's ever been to Lost Creek.”

You decided to just sit back and listen for a moment before throwing your two cents in.

“Then let's get these people back to town and let's hit the road. Go find Dad. I mean, why are we still even here?” Sam threw his hands up in frustration.

“This is why.” Dean held out his dad’s journal to his brother. “This book. This is Dad's single most valuable possession—everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business.”

Sam shook his head. “That makes no sense. Why doesn't he just—call us? Why doesn't he—tell us what he wants, tell us where he is?”

“I dunno. But the way I see it, Dad's giving us a job to do, and I intend to do it.”

Sam’s eyes began to well with tears. “Dean, no. I gotta find Dad. I gotta find Jessica's killer. It's the only thing I can think about.”

“Okay, all right, Sam, we'll find them, I promise. Listen to me.” Sam looked up at Dean. “You've gotta prepare yourself. I mean, this search could take a while, and all that anger, you can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man.”

Sam looked away again, still fighting the tears congealing in his water line. “How do you two do it? How does Dad do it?”

You let Dean take that question. “Well for one, them.” He gestured to Haley and Ben. “I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little bit more bearable.”

You paused, looking down at the dirt and twigs below you before speaking. “It’s kind of the same for me. I don’t have a family anymore.” You felt Dean’s gaze on you, but kept the burning in your cheeks at bay. “This is really all I’ve ever known. I know I couldn’t go back to a normal life after all this. So, I do what I can to help everyone else’s lives feel a little more normal. Not everybody needs to know what’s really out there. It kinda brings me peace knowing I’m helping somebody else live their life relatively worry-free.”

Dean continued. “I'll tell you what else helps.”

You looked back up at him.

“Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can.”

You smiled at Dean genuinely for the first time.

A twig snapped, breaking you and the boys out of the little bonding moment you’d just had. The same, slightly unhuman grainy voice screamed out again from somewhere in the trees. “Help me! Please!”

Dean stands with his gun. You thought about pointing out the fact that it was useless, but decided to keep it to yourself.

“Help!” the strained sound came again.

Sam shined his flashlight through the tree line.

“He's trying to draw us out. Just stay cool, stay put,” Dean told the group.

“Inside the magic circle?” Roy quipped.

“Shut up, would you?” You snapped, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Help! Help me!” The voice seemed to become more distant before a low growl emanated from just outside the circle.

Roy pointed his gun at the sound. “Okay, that's no grizzly.”

“Oh, now you believe us,” you quipped.

“(Y/N),” Dean warned, still facing the outside of the circle.

Something rushed past where Haley and Ben were standing. She let out a scream.

“It's here,” the younger Winchester stated.

The guide shot at the rustling bushes, and then again. “I hit it!” He took off before you could protest.

“Roy, no!” you immediately ran after him.

You could hear Dean behind you addressing the Collinses, but barely registered it while trying to follow Roy.

“Roy! Come back!” you called.

“It's over here! It's in the tree!” the man called back.

Just as you reached him, something grabbed onto Roy’s shoulders and began pulling him up into the tree above.

“Roy!” you grabbed his ankles, doing your best to pull him back down to the ground.

Roy was screaming above you, and the Wendigo’s strength was too much for you. Roy’s screaming was cut off sharply by a snapping sound. In that moment, you knew he was gone. You let Roy’s legs go and dropped back down to the ground.

The Winchester brothers appeared at that second, rushing to your side.

“You okay?” Sam asked, helping you up. “Where’s Roy?”

You shook your head. “He’s gone.”

You and the boys headed back to camp to find Haley and Ben huddled together. Haley was caught off-guard by your return, and nearly took you out with her makeshift torch-weapon. “Shit!” she yelped. “You scared the crap out of me!”

“Sorry,” you laughed. “Easy, tiger.”

She threw her torch back into the fire. “Where’s Roy?”

Your smile faded. “I tried to help him. I’m sorry.”

She nodded somberly. A saddened, heavy air fell over your camp as the remaining five of you tried to go to sleep before your undoubtedly busy day tomorrow.

Haley and Ben settled down near the fire with tatters of backpacks and tent material as pillows and blankets respectively. You and Dean forced Sam to lay down and rest because it was evident via the bags under his eyes that he’d had none over the last several days.

“I’ll take first watch,” you told Dean, settling your back against the stump of a tree near where Sam had started falling asleep.

“Not a chance, sweetheart.”

“First of all, stop calling me that,” you snapped. “Second, it wasn’t a suggestion. I’m taking first watch. Go to sleep.”

“Why are you so insistent on this?” Dean furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“Why don’t you trust me?” you countered.

“I don’t know, maybe because you’re the last person to have seen my dad before he ‘mysteriously disappeared’?”

“You’re not seriously suggesting—” you scoffed, and Dean cut you off again.

“Maybe because I don’t even know you. Maybe because you so readily agreed to just hitch a ride with Sam and I the day Jessica died. Maybe those are some good reasons not to trust you.”

“Dean, I had nothing to do with your dad’s disappearance. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m on my own. Sorry that I was just excited to finally have someone willing to take me along with them. And I don’t give a shit about you, honestly. I do give a shit about Sam, though, and I’m not gonna leave while he’s in this headspace. And I wanna help you find your dad.”

“Why do you care so much?” he hissed in retaliation.

“Because I don’t have any family. I want to help reunite yours. Like you said earlier, it helps you feel a little better and sleep a little easier at night.” Your voice had softened considerably, and you turned your attention from Dean to your hands folded in your lap.

“Fine, but after we find my dad, you’re gone,” he responded after a moment.

“Fine.” You turned away from him, hugging your knees to your chest. “I’m still taking first watch.”

“Whatever, (Y/N).” You could hear Dean moving around behind you.

“Goodnight,” you said.

All you got was a huff in response.

At some point that night, Sam was actually the one to take over your watch. He’d woken up from a nightmare, and you knew he wouldn’t be getting back to sleep any time soon. You did your best to get some sleep despite your heightened sense of awareness from your unsettling surroundings and the anger you still felt at Dean after your argument.

When you did awaken, Sam was sitting against the tree next to you, Dean was talking to Haley about the origin of Wendigos, and Haley was grilling Dean about how he knows about monsters.

“Kind of runs in the family,” was all Dean answered her question with.

You felt Sam push off the tree behind you. You still hadn’t rolled over from your sleeping position.

“So we've got half a chance in the daylight,” Sam announced to the group. “And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch.”

“Well, hell, you know I'm in,” you heard Dean respond.

“'Wendigo' is a Cree Indian word. It means 'evil that devours',” Sam explained.

You began stretching while Dean continued educating Haley and Ben. “They're hundreds of years old. Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a miner or hunter.”

“How's a man turn into one of those things?” Haley asked.

“Well, it's always the same,” the older Winchester continued while you started to make your way over to them, brushing leaves out of your hair with your fingers. “During some harsh winter a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp.”

“Like the Donner Party.” That was the first you’d ever heard Ben speak.

“Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities. Speed, strength, immortality,” Sam continued.

“If you eat enough of it, over years, you become this less than human thing. You're always hungry,” Dean finished.

“So if that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?” Haley waited for the answer with baited breath.

“You're not gonna like it.”

“Tell me.” Haley steeled herself.

“More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake it keeps its victims alive. It—” Dean seemed to be searching for the right words, “—uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there.”

“And then how do we stop it?”

You spoke up for the first time, holding an empty beer bottle, a white cloth, and a can of lighter fluid you’d found from near the camp. “Guns are useless, so, Molotov cocktail, baby.”

You could swear Dean cracked a smile at you, but you refused to acknowledge it.

The sun had risen much higher since your crew had first started walking. You had passed multiple trees with bloodied claw marks on them. It was starting to unsettle you, quite honestly. You’d just passed the seventh or eighth claw-marked tree when you decided to bring Sam’s attention to your thought process.

“You know, I was thinking, those claw marks are so clear and distinct. Not at all as jagged as they were on Mr. Shaw’s scar or the tree where the thing snatched Roy. They were almost too easy to follow.”

Almost as if on cue, a low growl rumbled from above and trees rustled. Haley looked up before jerking herself out of the way. And good thing she had, because Roy’s corpse soon landed where she’d stood.

Dean inspected Roy’s corpse while Sam helped Haley up. “His neck's broke.”

The growling continued.

Upon hearing the sound, Dean started to bark out, “Okay, run, run, run, run, go, go, go!”

You immediately split. You were always quite a fast runner and light on your feet. You and Haley took the lead of the group and could hear the boys’ thundering footsteps behind you.

Before you knew it, the growling had landed right in front of you. You and Haley were brought to a skidding halt before the creature. Haley yelped as the creature grabbed your legs and began dragging the two of you. You took the bag of peanut M&Ms you’d stolen from Dean out of your jacket’s inner pocket. You let the bag’s contents out slowly as sticks and rocks scraped up your dragging body. The last thing you felt was a sharp pain on the back of your head before you vision blacked out completely.

The next time you came to, the first thing you felt were your aching wrists and hands on either side of your face. You could faintly hear Dean calling your name, and your vision began to get less hazy as Dean’s voice became more clear.

When Dean’s annoyingly beautiful, worried face finally came into focus, you said the first thing that came to mind. “Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper.”

You could hear Sam laughing behind Dean and Dean sighed. If you didn’t know any better, you would say he sounded relieved.

Sam reached above you to cut your wrists down. “You okay?”

Despite your aching joints, you said, “Yeah.”

Sam helped you over to one of the cave’s walls. “You sure you're alright?”

“Yeah. Yep,” you groaned. “Where is he?”

“He's gone for now.”

“Oh, thank god,” you breathed, making Sam laugh a little. “Oh, sweet.” You noticed the stolen duffel bags next to you and started rummaging through yours. Haley let out a shriek, causing you to jerk your head in her direction. She’d found her brother, and thankfully, he was alive.

“Cut him down!” Haley ordered. Sam got to work.

You found a flare gun in Dean’s duffel bag, saying, “Check it out.” to the rest of your group.

“Flare guns. Those'll work,” Sam responded, grinning.

You laughed, throwing one of the guns at Dean who caught it easily. He twirled it around his finger, smirking at you.

“Enough fooling around, let’s go,” Haley urged. She shouldered her brother, and with Ben’s help, started moving down the mine shaft.

You and Sam held up the rear of the group while Dean took the lead. Amidst the clunky shuffling of Tommy’s weakened body down the shaft, you could hear the same deep, low growling you’d heard in the forest.

“Looks like someone's home for supper,” quipped Dean, scanning the corridor ahead of him.

“We'll never outrun it,” Haley said.

Dean looked back at you and Sam. “You thinking what I'm thinking?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Sam responded.

“I don’t,” you chimed in.

“You’ll catch on,” Dean shot back. “All right, listen to me. Stay with Sam and (Y/N). They’re gonna get you out of here.”

“What are you gonna do?” Haley asked the older Winchester.

He winked at her, shooting her that same smile he’d shot you one of the first times you’d met him. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. He started yelling moments later, walking away from you. “Chow time, you freaky bastard! Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby, I taste good.”

‘I bet he does.’ You surprised yourself. ‘What? What the fuck? He’s an asshole.’

Sam’s voice brought you out of your head. “All right, come on! Hurry!”

Your group rushed down the tunnel. You stayed in the rear, and Sam headed up to the front. He began leading your group down to where you could faintly see a bit of daylight peeking through.

And then, the growling again.

“Fuck,” you muttered. “Get him outta here!” you instructed the Collinses.

“(Y/N), no,” Haley told you.

“Go!” you urged her.

She finally nodded and started pulling her brothers down the tunnel with her. You aimed your flare gun at the direction where the growling was coming from.

“C’mon, motherfucker,” you grumbled, scanning the tunnel.

“(Y/N)!” Sam called from behind you.

You wheeled around to come face to face with the Wendigo. In your startle, you missed your shot with the flare gun. Your only other option was to take off after the three Collins siblings, closely followed by Sam.

“Come on, hurry, hurry, hurry,” Sam ordered the group. “Get behind me.” Given Sam’s size, he was able to hide all three Collinses behind him. You knew your pistol was no use, but you still aimed it at the creature anyway.

The Wendigo approached, taking its time in getting to you.

“Hey!” you suddenly heard Dean from behind the Wendigo. It wheeled around, only for Dean to shoot it in the stomach.

Flames curled up the Wendigo’s horribly disfigured body in twisted tendrils. The creature let out a howl before collapsing to the ground in a pile of burning embers.

Dean was revealed behind where the Wendigo previously stood. ��Not bad, huh?”

Despite yourself, you grinned.

A quite chipper, clearly freshman EMT had patched you up upon your return to civilization. You had an uncomfortable laceration on your neck, a few scrapes above your eyebrow, and your wrists burned from where you had been tied up. You’d survive, it would just take you a few days to recover from.

You watched from a short distance as Haley approached Dean, both of whom had been patched up. You scowled as Dean smirked lasciviously at Haley and couldn’t help the bile rising in your throat when Haley leaned in to kiss Dean’s cheek. She said one final thing to Dean before walking toward the ambulance carrying Tommy with Ben.

“Thanks, (Y/N)!” she called to you.

You waved at her with a lopsided smile. She returned your grin before hopping into the back of the ambulance.

Sam motioned for you to come back over to Dean’s car.

“Man, I hate camping,” said Dean as you approached.

“Me too,” you shivered.

“Still scared of the woods?” he asked you, his tone slightly patronizing.

You ignored his tone and answered earnestly. “Definitely. Probably more so, now.” You crossed your arms over your body and hugged yourself.

A moment of silence passed before Dean addressed his brother. “Sam, you know we're gonna find Dad, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” he nodded. “But in the meantime? I'm driving.”

Dean lolled his head to the side dramatically before tossing the keys to Sam. Recalling your fight with Dean at the campsite, you hesitated to get in the car when the brothers did.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” Sam asked out of the driver’s side window. “Let’s go.”

You nodded, conceding, and hopped into the backseat. You threw your legs up on the leather beside you and stared out the window. Out of the corner of your eye, you could swear Dean was staring at you.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #supernatural #dean winchester #supernatural series rewrite #spn #spn series rewrite

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ninii-winchester · 11 months ago

Text

Lie to me

Pairing : Dean Winchester X reader

Word count : 4k

Warnings : angst, hurt/no comfort, Major character death, depressing thoughts, canon violence.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Dean was tossing and turning in his bed in the motel room. Sam was soundly asleep on the other bed. The two of them had just burn the bones of an old lady who was haunting her old house after she'd committed suicide. Dean was tired but he couldn't fall asleep. He quietly left the room and made his way towards Baby. He knew he shouldn't disturb Y/n this late but he knew she barely slept herself. It was two in the morning and he texted her asking if she's awake and she called him instead of answering.

"Why aren't you asleep?" Was the first thing she asked as he picked up.

"I could ask you the same thing." He retorted settling in the front seat of the Impala.

"I'm not the one who came from a hunt." She replied and he chuckled. He loved how she reprimanded him for the exact same thing she does herself. He knew she wouldn't let it go unless he turned the conversation around, so he filled her in all about the hunt and how she should've joined them for this one.

"It was literally just a ghost. Salt and burn. It didn't even need two people and you're saying I should've came along too." She replied sassily. They talked for a while when she suddenly asked, "why didn't you find someone to entertain you for the night?" Dean shrugged even though she couldn't see him.

"Why would I need to find someone else when I could easily call my sweetheart." He replied with a smirk and she could hear it in his voice. This was something she hated about Dean. He constantly flirted with her and called her nicknames but never went further. She knew she had a small crush on him, who wouldn't. But he never showed any interest in her other than his incessant flirting. He hooked up with women left and right. He never even bothered to react when she was approached by guys or even if she left with one, once in a blue moon. She wasn't the type to sleep around but a girl has here needs, and finding a partner in this type of lifestyle can be a hassle. She knew Dean wouldn't turn her down if she made a move but she didn't want to be just another woman in Dean Winchester's bed so she never acted on her feelings. But his behaviour made it harder for her to keep her feelings at bay.

"I think you should've." She replied try to keep the bitterness out of her tone but it didn't go unnoticed by Dean.

"Why should I have?" He questioned curiously. He couldn't quite understand why she became so dismissive when the two were having a great conversation.

"I'm going to sleep, Dean. You should too." She faked a yawn and he could tell something was off. She was his best friend and he could tell she was hiding something. But at the same time he knew she wouldn't tell him no matter how hard he tried to get it out of her. That's just how she was. He let out a sigh and said goodbye hanging up. Dean wondered what made her cut the call short. He recalled the whole conversation hoping he could remember if he said something to upset her. But nothing came to mind. He let out another sigh before getting out the car and going back to his motel room.

Y/n dropped onto the mattress of the motel room she was staying at. She herself had finished a salt and burn two days ago in a town in Michigan, but she didn't leave because she liked this place. The motel room wasn't as bad as the others she'd been to and the people were nice. And there were no other hunts that she knew of. She didn't like the research work to find hunts so she mostly relied on Bobby to send cases her way. Or any other hunter who needed backup.

She laid on her back and stared up at the ceiling. She wasn't aware of the supernatural and she lived a normal life. John Winchester once saved her from a Wendigo in the woods and she'd been grateful to him. When she had another run in with a supernatural creature, a ghost in her apartment, she called John but he didn't answer and she found his son's number from his voicemail. And that's how she met Dean. He was a flirt, she gathered the minute he walked inside her apartment and confirmed it when she cheekily asked her if she wanted to thank him some other way. She remembered the way she rolled her eyes at him and told him off and how he chuckled, sending a wink her way, telling her to call him if she changed her mind. But she also remembers how she found him extremely attractive.

Knowing about the supernatural and running into trouble twice she decided to learn to defend herself. She called Dean and asked if he could teach her. Luckily for her, he agreed saying how he didn't have anything better to do since his brother went to college and his father left him on his own. She learnt stuff quickly and after a hunt with Dean, she knew she wanted to help save people for the rest of her life. He introduced her to Bobby and Sam, when he came back and the rest was history.

Her phone rang and she groaned not wanting to deal with anyone at the moment. Calls with Dean often mess with her and she had a hard time convincing herself that it's just how he is and it's nothing serious. She looked at the caller ID and furrowed her brows.

"Do you ever check the time before calling?." She spoke into her phone.

"Good morning your highness, my apologies. Did you have your tea yet?" Bobby sassed from the other side of the phone and she rolled her eyes.

"I drink coffee. Keep up old man." The man grunted in response and she chuckled. He told her he found a case and its a huge vampire nest, with probably fifteen vampires and they're causing trouble in Rockford, Illinois. "Are you really so tired of me that you're sending me there by myself?" She joked making Bobby roll his eyes to the back of his head.

"I've called Sam and Dean too. They'll meet you there." He replied. She affirmed that she heard him. Saying their goodbyes she hung the phone.

Just what I need.

She met up with the Winchesters the next day. Dean tried to get her to talk to him but she brushed him off, not bothering with him unless it was hunt related. Sam furrowed his brows at the interaction clearly baffled as she's never dismissed Dean before. The hunt went pretty well and Y/n finally let loose. She went to her friendly self as they hit the nearest bar for celebratory drinks. Her mood instantly dampened when a pretty brunette walked up to Dean and he flashed her his ever so charming smile. Y/n frowned as Dean let the woman whisk him away for the night. She'd expected him to stay but it was just wishful thinking. She knew he would never refuse a good time.

"Why don't you just tell him?" Sam quipped from beside her as she peeled at the label of her beer bottle, fingers picking at the edges absentmindedly. She sent him a glare but he didn't waver, and shot her a look.

"It's Dean. The chances of him cutting me off are far greater than him wanting anything real with me." She replied taking a swig of her drink.

"That's not..." Sam tried to defend his brother but then he stopped himself mid sentence. He knows Dean wouldn't want to risk getting close to anyone, even if it's Y/n.

Y/n patted Sam on his arm, reassuring him that she's fine and he doesn't have to make excuses for his brother. Surprisingly enough, Dean left the Impala to Sam so he left early and since she had her own car, she took her time going back. She arrived at the motel but she didn't want to go inside their room, not yet atleast. She noticed a swing set right outside the motel which was unlikely for places like these. She made her way to the swings and sat down on one. Self deprecating thoughts thoughts swarmed inside her head as she looked up at the sky.

It's her own fault she fell for the hunter anyways. She should've known she wasn't someone he'd want to be with. She's not the ideal woman one would want. At least not someone like Dean would want. She doesn't have the perfect curvy figure or any specific features that make her stand out. Her hair's unkept most of the time and she's got scars all over her body. She's not desirable.

She didn't know how much time had passed but she could see the darkness fade around her. The sun wasn't up yet it wasn't dark anymore. With a loud sigh she continued to stare ahead to figure out a way she could get out of this mess without a heartbreak. She heard the familiar thump of boots against the pavement and looked up to see Dean walking towards the motel. He had his jacket in his hand and he was whistling as he walked.

At least someone had a good night.

Dean noticed a figure perched on a swing and recognised the silhouette. With hurried steps he approached her and took a seat beside her on the swing. She turned to look at him and immediately regretted seeing the red and purple hickies that lingered on his neck.

"What're you doing out here?" Dean asked staring at her face.

"Just thinking. Did you have a good night?" Y/n replied, she wondered if she's some sort a masochist who finds pleasure in inflicting pain upon oneself.

"Yeah it was good. What're you thinking about?" Dean was curious, she'd been acting distant and he wanted to know why. She's even sitting out here in the early hours of the day when she should've been sleeping. "You're distant." He added like a child who lost his toy. He missed his best friend if he was being honest.

"Really Dean? I wasn't the who one left my friends for sex." She didn't intend to snap but his words struck a nerve and she felt the need to defend herself.

"You say as if you've never done that before!" Dean replied sharply. "Something is going on with you that you're clearly not telling me." He was getting frustrated with her behaviour and he needed to know.

"Well maybe I don't like watching you go off with women all the time." She answered harshly and he flinched at her tone. He could only managed to choke out a 'What?' not getting what she meant. She stared ahead keeping quiet.

"What's the supposed to mean?" Dean asked again.

"You're really gonna make me say it, won't you?" She scoffed and he shook his head in confusion. "I like you Dean, more than a friend." She said quietly, hoping he didn't hear her but the silence enveloping them made it left no doubt that he heard her loud and clear. She had prepared herself for his rejection but she didn't think his silence would hurt this bad.

"Y/n I, I've never-..." he stuttered not knowing how to get his point through without breaking her heart. "I've always thought of you as my best friend, is all." She looked down at her lap, nodding her head in understanding. There we no tears however her heart was being ripped apart inside.

"Why'd you always make me feel special? Constant flirt with me and gave me those nicknames. Why'd you act like you cared?" Dean rubbed a hand over his head. "Why'd you lead me on?" Her voice was small and accusing.

"It wasn't an act. I do care about you. I didn't mean to. I thought..." he trailed off not wanting to hurt her any more than he already did.

"I get it." She cleared her throat. What else was she supposed to say or do? Throw a fit? The option she had was to accept the fact that he wouldn't love her ever.

"I do love you, Y/n/n. Just not the way you-" He started but she interrupted him.

"I said I get it, Dean." She nodded again. "I think we should go inside." She said standing up from her place and heading towards the room. Sam was fast asleep when she entered the room. She sat on the pullout couch when Dean entered the room and settled on the other bed. They would usually share the bed since they'd been best friends for years but now it all seemed too awkward. Even being in the same room as him was suffocating her.

After hours of tossing and turning Dean finally slipped into a deep slumber and Y/n took it as a chance to grab her stuff and slip out of the room, and their lives. For good.

When Sam woke up he noticed Y/n was gone. Her was not in the parking lot and her bag was gone too. He shook his brother awake notifying him of her departure. Dean knew she would want to have some time apart but he didn't expect her to leave without as much as a goodbye.

"Why'd did she leave without saying goodbye?" Sam wondered out loud and Dean looked at his feet. He knew the reason she left, he was the reason she left. He shouldn't have been so careless with his gestures that gave her the wrong idea. Sam recognised the look on his brother's face as guilt. "What did you do?" He asked and Dean looked up.

"What makes you think I did something?" Dean felt offended at his brother's accusation.

"Because it's written all over your face so fucking spill." Sam glared at his brother folding his arms across his chest.

"I just told her the truth." Sam raised his brow, gesturing him to continue. "She told me she liked me and I told her I don't feel the same. It's not my fault she couldn't be an adult about it." Dean snapped, his anger flaring up as he felt unfairly portrayed as the villain.

"You told you her you don't reciprocate her feelings?" Sam asked incredulously. "Dean are you insanse why would you say that?"

"Because that's the truth!! I told her I loved her as a friend, not in the way she wants me to." Dean snapped back. Sam shook his head at his brother's stupidity. Sam knew deep down Dean loved Y/n more than anyone. She was his best friend but most of she was that one person had made a special place in his brother's heart.

Sam didn't say anything instead he went out to call Y/n. She didn't any of his calls and it went straight to voicemail. She didn't want to talk to anyone. All she wants is to deal with her heartbreak once and for all. And then she'll go back to her friends, to Dean. And they can pretend it never happened.

Four months passed without any contact with the boys and Y/n was nowhere near getting over Dean. She'd assumed hearing him reject her would get her the closure she needed to get over her crush it seemed to be more than a crush. Over the four months Sam continued to call her and leave messages for her and she would always just send him a little text telling him alive. Nothing other than that. He was atleast greatful that was alive.

Y/n had found a ghoul case in Ohio and as much as she hated those awful creatures she decided to go. The ghoul had been digging up graves to feed on the dead, so she made her way to the cemetery, a molotov cocktail and lighter safely tucked in her jacket and a machete in case something goes southways.

With a flashlight tightly gripped in her hand she entered the cemetery. It was late and she could she a silhouette a few feet away from where she stood. It was hunched over something and she could tell he was feeding off of a dead body. She grimaced as she neared the creature. The crunch of leaves beneath her boot resounded in the otherwise quiet cemetery making the ghoul turn to look at her. The ghoul hissed at her and jumped at her before she could react. With a swift motion she dodged it and moved aside kicking it away. The creature seem to grow angry and lurched towards her, it managed to hold her arm and bit her forearm. She screamed in agony as it’s sharp teeth dug into her flesh. She took a deep breath before she pushed at his chest, the ghoul taking it as an opening to dig its claw in the side and rip a patch of flesh from her body. Y/n headbutted it and the ghoul went barreling straight into a tombstone. She fell to the ground and quickly took out the Molotov cocktail and lit it up before throwing it at it, burning it alive.

Now that the ghoul was taken care of she moved backwards until her back hit one of the tombstones and cradled her side. She was bleeding profusely and she knew she couldn’t make it out of here on her own. She could call for help but she wasn’t sure who to call. She was too prideful to call the boys. She dug out her phone from her jacket and called Bobby. He grumbled as he answered the call.

“This better be good.” The old man said over the phone. Y/n let out a chuckle at his words.

“Heya Bobby. Ran into a bit of trouble.” She said sheepishly.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

“Ghoul ripped my side if that’s your definition of trouble. And he bit my arm.” She scoffed followed by a chuckled.

“Where are you damnit?”

“Ohio.” She breathed out feeling herself getting tired. Bobby cursed under his breath. Ohio was a good hundred miles away. It would take him hours to reach her.

"Ohio? Damn, y/n, that’s a long way. How you even end up all the way out there?" She didn’t answer, instead she coughed, spitting the blood beside her. Bobby sighed knowing he couldn’t get to her in time. “Hey keep talking. Describe your surroundings to me.” He put her on speaker as he called Sam from his other phone. He didn’t answer so he left him a voicemail.

“Its a dark cemetery, trees are pretty though.” He heard her voice becoming quiet. “Not bad for a last view huh?” She chuckled and Bobby took in a sharp breath. He really wanted to reprimand her not to say things like that but at this point he wasn’t even sure if she’d make it. “Hey, can I call you back?” She asked randomly. The old man frowned asking her why but she didn’t respond. Instead she hung up on him. With her vision blurred she managed to call Dean. The phone rang for a few seconds and to her surprise he answered.

“Y/n?”

“Dean.” She mumbled. “I didn’t wake you up did I?” breathing was shallow and irregular, each breath coming in ragged gasps as if the air itself was slipping away.

“Y/n? What’s wrong? You sound-” She interrupted him.

“You have pretty eyes. They’d make good for a last view.” She chuckled. Dean's heart skipped a beat at her words. There was something in your tone, something that made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

“What are you talking about? What do you mean, ‘last view’?" Dean clenched his jaw, a sense of dread building in his gut. Something was wrong, very wrong. He quickly woke Sam and filled him in on the situation.

“I’m sorry I walked out.” She coughed up more blood and sputtered, choking on it. “I’m sorry for ruining….our friendship.” Dean shook his head already making his way towards his car. Sam following behind.

“Where are you? What happened?” Dean was now getting anxious. She sounded so fragile, as if she was on the verge of her end. God—he didn’t even want to think about it.

“Ohio Cemetery, Ghoul.” She heard him open his car door and slamming it shut. “I just wanted to….. I love you Dean. Tell Sam I’m sorry.” She could feel her tears builidng up as hot white pain surged through her body.

“No…no no, don’t you dare die on me.” He growled stepping on the gas. “I’m coming to get you.” She smiled wistfully, knowing it’s futile. She’s not going to make it.

“Hey Dean.” Her breaths came in faint, uneven whispers, barely rising above the sound of the surrounding silence. “Do me a favour?” Tears sprung to Dean’s eyes and he nodded his head even though she couldn’t see him.

“Anything. Just please hold on. I’m on my way.” He begged, his heart felt like it was being crushed under a weight of helplessness.

“Lie to me.” She whispered and Dean’s foot stepped on the brakes making the Impala swerve a bit. Sam looked at his brother as the car came to a halt. “Lie to me once please.” Dean knew what she meant, he knew what she wanted him to say. But he couldn’t lie to her. Not when she’s taking her last breath. And because it wouldn’t be a lie.

“I can’t.” He whispered and she sucked in a sharp breath. “I can’t lie to you. But I can tell you I love you. It’s the truth.” Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the overwhelming sense of grief, sorrow and regret. “I love you so much it hurts.” He cried. Sam patted his brother on the back, unable to hold onto his own tears.

“You sound pretty convincing.” Y/n chuckled feeling the strength in her limbs drain with every passing moment, and her once-strong grip had become weak and feeble.

“It’s the truth, I just didn’t want you to be in danger because of me. I wanted to protect you. I pushed you away. When all I wanted was to hold you close to me. I do fucking love you.” Dean said angrily. Not angry at her but with himself for being a fool, for letting her go. For not being there to protect her.

“It’s okay.” She whispered. The atmosphere around her felt heavy and somber, marking the approach of an inevitable end. “I love you.” She felt the phone slip from her grasp as she took in her final breath. The phone fell to ground with a thud, and Dean panicked.

Dean’s desperate pleas through the phone fell into a haunting void, the line now carrying only the echoes of his sorrow. The sudden, silence left a heavy, unspoken grief that seemed to linger, a stark reminder of a love that was cut short by the cruel hand of fate.

“Y/n? Sweetheart? C’mon please talk to me.” He begged through the phone but all he got was silence from the other end. “Baby please.” Dean was overwhelmed by a crushing sense of guilt, his chest tightening with every recollection of what had transpired. He was the reason it ended like it, she left him twice, all because of his own cowardice. He was scared to love her and she left him forever. His every thought was consumed by the desire to undo the harm he believed he had caused. But it was too late now and he’s left behind to bare the consequences of his own actions.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #sam and dean #spn fanfic #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader angst #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles characters #spn fanfiction #spn angst #nini writes

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23swife · 5 months ago

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୨ৎ your camera roll when you marry dean winchester

Dean asks you to marry him on a not so random Tuesday. He had planned it months in advance, and you were so very aware, but you loved him enough to keep acting clueless. You were ecstatic when he finally asked, thinking that he’d decided against it if he hasn’t done it this long, but it was perfect. You’re shaking when he puts the ring on but you try to snap a picture anyway to show to your parents. They reiterate that you shouldn't be allowed to hold a phone. It’s a small wedding, the way you’ve always imagined it. Small enough that you get a couple (six) tables and put them next to each other just so you could all eat together. Dean’s never liked an idea more— everything you did to plan for your big day made him fall in love all over again. Everything was precious and meaningful. His toast took you all by surprise, not the fact that he gave one, but what he said— god, you cried that day. Cried way too much, honestly. The photographer was a successful idea since the two of you didn’t even think to care about capturing the moment, too busy living in it. You, for some reason, decided it was a good idea to have a tattoo parlor at the wedding and Dean, suddenly, decided you should get matching tattoos.

The first night you and Dean settle in your cabin, the one you saved up for years, it’s special. It’s magical. You almost cry, hugging yourself as you stare at it, the yellow lighting from the inside and how the tress cover it, exactly like you’ve always wanted. You always love big gestures and going out, but at the heart of all that it’s important to you that your home is simple and just you. It’s the place you’re supposed to feel the most comfortable. And Dean knows that as he steps behind you, wraps his arms around your waist and snaps a picture of the house, telling you it’s so you never forget this moment. Once your honeymoon (the two weeks Dean spent in bed with you) is over, Sam takes you both out for dinner. You act so in love that he’s sure he’s gonna throw up a couple of times— but he snaps a picture just incase. Just incase this is the last time he sees his brother happy, in love, and being bossed around by a woman demanding he buy her the pistachio Tres Leches. You both go home that night and a few hours on the couch proves to be bad for your back. Dean asks what you’re doing as you slither down onto the hardwood floor of your home. You confess that as a child you used to opt sleeping on the floor to sleeping in a bed. You take out your phone to show him pictures your mother took and sent you, ones she found on an old hard drive, and he can’t help but want to capture the moment forever.

You smile at Dean, telling him how good he’s gotten at taking pictures. When you first met him, it was the last damn thing on his mind, now it’s all he does. He love keeping these moments for the both of you. And ever since you had the twins, Dean had to buy three phones. No one told him you can pay for storage these days. He’s always snapping pictures, especially in the morning when you’re too asleep to do it yourself. He’s convinced thags when you look your best, out of bed and cuddling his kids, looking out at the sunrise. And then you get some payback by taking some candids of your own. Your phone is practically flooding with them, Dean’s a better father than you ever expected, he’s always reading to your son, encouraging him but trying to teach him to still be a mean, and he’s always spoiling your little girl, calling her a passengers princess and making her feel like she’s the only thing that matters to him.

You click one last photo of the two of them before your phone screen blinks. ‘Storage full’.

It’s alright, it was never about the photos anyway.

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moon-lit-petal · 9 months ago

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Believe Me

Neville Longbottom x Fem!Beauxbatons!Reader

Summary: 5 times Dean and Seamus don't believe Neville and the time He proved them wrong.

Warning: not proof read, possibly not so nice friends, Neville being totally in love.

Word Count: 5k

Notes: this takes place when they are much older, I'd like to think that moldy V doesn't exist and the triwizard tournament happens much later in their hogwarts career :) I tried to keep it as ambiguous

----------

The Gryffindor common room was a cozy haven, illuminated by the flickering flames of the fireplace that cast warm shadows on the maroon and gold walls. A rowdy bunch of Gryffindors lounged comfortably on the oversized sofas, laughter and chatter filling the air as they reminisced about their latest escapades at Hogwarts.

"Honestly," Ron said, a frown spreading across his face, "I don’t know what’s worse—having a crush or trying to figure out what to say when you actually talk to them!"

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Tell me about it. I thought I was doing well with Cho until I accidentally called her 'Hermione' in the middle of a conversation!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, a playful smirk on her lips. "That’s not going to help your case, Harry."

The boys erupted into laughter, the sound bouncing off the stone walls. Dean leaned back, his arms behind his head, a hint of frustration in his voice. "I can’t even get a proper conversation going. It’s like every time I try to flirt, I end up sounding like a complete idiot."

Seamus snickered. "Remember when you tried to impress that girl from Slytherin with your 'amazing' Quidditch skills? You barely made it through the first sentence!"

"That was one time!" Dean retorted, though he couldn’t suppress a sheepish grin.

Just then, Neville spoke up with hesitant confidence.

"I mean, dating isn't that hard when you're with the right person."

The room fell silent, a few eyebrows raised in curiosity. Ron snorted, breaking the stillness. "No offense, Neville, but what do you know about dating? You've never had a girlfriend before, right?"

With a half-hearted shrug and a giddy smile, he looks at his friends. “Well actually, I've been dating this girl for a little while now.”

"Wait, who is she?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.

"She’s from Beauxbatons!" Neville said, his voice gaining confidence. "Her name is Y/N. She’s really nice, we met over the summer when she was visiting some family”"

Seamus squinted skeptically. "A Beauxbatons girl? Come on, Neville, that sounds a bit too good to be true."

Hermione frowned, clearly disapproving of the boys’ reactions. "Guys, come on you shouldn't just dismiss him, I'm sure she's a nice girl Neville." She gave him a small smile, Neville could tell she too, didn't believe him

Ginny crossed her arms and chimed in. "Exactly. Just because you lot can’t seem to get dates doesn’t mean you should tear him down."

Ron raised his hands in mock surrender. "I’m not tearing him down! I’m just saying it’s hard to believe. Neville and a girl from Beauxbatons?"

Neville’s face turned a shade of crimson. "I’m serious! We’ve been writing to each other, and she even sent me a few drawings, she does portraits and sent one shed done of herself"

Laughter erupted around the room, the sound mingling with Neville’s embarrassed smile.

Hermione’s expression softened. "That sounds just lovely Neville. Maybe you could show us next time?"

Neville blushed even deeper. "I’m planning to! Well, I was… but they fell in the black lake the other day and got ruined..”

Seamus grinned. "Well, that's just a bloody shame, isn't it?”

"I swear! I'm not lying!!" Neville replied, sounding both desperate for someone to believe him and annoyed they would think he'd lie about something like this, to begin with.

Ginny smirked. "It's ok Neville, we believe you really."

The boys continued their good-natured teasing, but Hermione and Ginny shot them looks that conveyed they should ease off. Gradually, the teasing softened, and Hermione quickly sought to change the subject.

"So, what about that new potion Professor Snape was on about?" she suggested, her smile brightening, and at the mention of Professor Snape everyone groaned out a whine.

The conversation shifted effortlessly as they delved into tales of misadventures in Potions class, leaving the topic of girlfriends behind, at least for the moment. Laughter filled the room once more, but Neville couldn’t help but shake his head at his friends. He knows they mean well, and as long as he knows he's telling the truth, then they'd eat their words eventually

----------

The greenhouses were buzzing with the sound of shovels scraping soil and the occasional screech from a particularly unruly Mandrake. Neville Longbottom, expertly handling a Venomous Tentacula with gloved hands, chatted absently with Ron as they worked together.

“I was talking to Y/N the other day,” Neville said, his tone casual as he patted down the soil around the plant. “She gave me some really good advice on how to deal with these sorts of plants. Apparently, they grow some massive ones in the Beauxbatons greenhouses.”

Ron looked up from his struggle with his own plant. “Oh yeah? Beauxbatons, right?”

Neville nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, she said they have this whole section dedicated to magical flora that we don’t even study here. She told me about this method they use to calm them down, so they don’t snap at you when you get close.”

Hermione overheard and looked over, curiosity piqued. “Really? I’d love to read up on that. Beauxbatons must have a fantastic Herbology program. Did she mention any specific techniques?”

Neville smiled. “Yeah, something about using lavender essence mixed with dragon dung fertilizer. It keeps them relaxed but still healthy. I’m thinking about trying it on one of the plants here.”

Ron gave him a sideways glance, his expression caught between amusement and doubt. “You’ve got an answer for everything these days, don’t you, Neville? Y/N’s always helping you out, eh?”

“Well, she knows a lot about Herbology,” Neville said earnestly. “We talk about plants all the time.”

Harry, busy with his own re-potting, chuckled softly. “Sounds like you two have a lot in common, Neville. It’s nice to have someone who shares your interests.”

Hermione nodded in agreement. “Exactly. And Beauxbatons is known for their magical plants, so it’s not surprising she’d know a lot. What else has she taught you?”

Before Neville could respond, Seamus, who was struggling with his own plant a few tables away, joined the conversation. “Wait a minute, are we still talking about the mysterious Beauxbatons girlfriend? You’ve got to admit, Neville, it sounds a bit too good to be true. A French girl who’s an expert in magical plants? What are the odds?”

Dean snorted in amusement. “Yeah, Neville, no offense, but you talk about her like she’s perfect. She’s beautiful, smart, loves Herbology… I’m starting to think you’ve been reading too many romance novels.”

Neville flushed, but he shook his head. “No, it’s not like that. She’s real, I promise. She just… understands me. We have a lot in common.”

Ron patted Neville on the back, grinning. “We believe you, mate. It’s just hard to imagine someone who’s basically a Herbology goddess and happens to be your girlfriend. We’ll believe it when we see her.”

Harry, who had been silent for most of the exchange, gave Neville an encouraging smile. “Well, I’m sure she’s real, Neville. It’d be great to meet her one day.”

Seamus, however, couldn’t resist another quip. “Maybe she’ll show up with a rare magical plant to prove it, eh?”

Neville forced a smile but didn’t push the subject further. He knew they didn’t mean to be harsh, but it was clear that, despite their friendly tones, his friends still had their doubts about Y/N. He returned to his work, focusing on the plants.

----------

It was a typical morning in the Great Hall, sunlight streaming through the tall enchanted windows, casting golden beams across the long tables filled with Hogwarts students enjoying their breakfast. The scent of fresh bread, eggs, and pumpkin juice filled the air. Chatter echoed from all sides, students murmuring about Quidditch matches, homework assignments, and weekend plans.

Neville sat at the Gryffindor table, absently pushing his scrambled eggs around his plate. His thoughts were far from breakfast. He had been waiting for weeks now—hoping for a letter or, even better, a package from Y/N.. Their relationship had been going strong, though the distance often made it difficult. But lately, he'd mentioned her so many times that his friends had begun to give him knowing looks, and their teasing, though lighthearted, always made him feel a little self-conscious.

“Oi, Neville! You alright, mate?” Seamus Finnigan asked, nudging him gently. “You’ve been staring at those eggs for ten minutes. Something on your mind?”

Neville smiled faintly, trying to shake off his nervous anticipation. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… waiting for the post.”

At that moment, as if on cue, the familiar sound of wings fluttering through the air filled the hall. Dozens of owls soared through the enchanted ceiling, delivering letters and parcels to their waiting owners. Neville’s heart raced as he scanned the sea of wings, hoping to see something special. And then he saw it—a stunning, silvery owl with long, elegant wings gliding toward him, catching the light as it flew. It was unlike any owl he’d ever seen at Hogwarts.

The owl swooped down gracefully, landing right in front of Neville with a soft hoot. In its talons was a thick package wrapped in delicate lavender-colored paper, sealed with the distinctive wax crest of Beauxbatons. Neville’s eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he just stared at the package in his lap, hardly believing it.

“Blimey, Neville,” Ron said from across the table, his eyebrows raised. “That’s a fancy delivery.”

“Is that… from your girlfriend?” Hermione asked, looking at the package curiously.

Neville nodded, trying not to look too pleased. “Yeah, it’s from Y/N.”

His friends exchanged glances, but there wasn’t any teasing, just mild surprise. Neville had spoken about Y/N often, but she seemed almost like a mythical figure to them—this beautiful, mysterious girl from France whom none of them had ever met.

“That’s some owl she’s got,” Dean commented, leaning over to get a better look at the package. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one like that.”

Neville nodded again, feeling a bit self-conscious under their gazes. “She mentioned it once. Said it’s a rare breed from France. She’s… pretty proud of it.”

Seamus grinned. “Well, go on then, mate. Open it! Let’s see what she’s sent you.”

Neville hesitated for a moment, feeling all eyes on him. He knew they weren’t trying to be skeptical or mean, but he could sense the curiosity behind their words. His friends had never outright doubted him, but it was clear that after months of hearing about Y/N and not seeing any proof, they were a bit… unsure. Still, there was no mockery in their faces—just genuine interest.

With a deep breath, Neville carefully broke the wax seal and unwrapped the package. Inside was a beautifully embroidered scarf in the deep blue and silver colors of Beauxbatons, along with a folded letter. The scarf was soft, clearly handmade, and it smelled faintly of lavender.

“Wow,” Hermione said, leaning in closer. “That’s lovely, Neville. She made this for you?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Neville said quietly, running his fingers over the delicate stitches. “She’s been learning how to embroider. I, um… mentioned I needed a new scarf for winter, and I guess she remembered.”

Ron nodded appreciatively. “That’s impressive. Not many people make things like this anymore.”

Harry smiled from beside him. “Looks like she really cares about you, Neville.”

Neville smiled, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the scarf. It felt good to hear that—not just because it was true, but because it seemed like, for once, his friends weren’t doubting him.

But then Seamus, ever the joker, raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You’ve got to admit, though, Neville—it’s almost too perfect. A hand-embroidered scarf? From a Beauxbatons girl who sends you packages by a rare French owl? It’s like something out of a storybook.”

Neville laughed, shaking his head. “I know it sounds a bit… unbelievable, but I swear it’s true. She’s real.”

Dean, who had been eyeing the letter, grinned. “Well, if she keeps sending you things like this, we’ll start believing in miracles.”

Hermione shot Dean a disapproving look, but Neville chuckled along with the others. It wasn’t mean-spirited—they were just having fun. He didn’t mind the light teasing, especially now that he had proof to show them. And even if they found it hard to believe, they weren’t questioning him outright, just amused at the unlikely situation.

“That’ll be the day,” Ron said with a grin, though he quickly added, “But hey, She sounds great.”

Neville folded the scarf carefully and slipped it into his bag, feeling a little lighter. “She is.”

As the conversation shifted back to Quidditch and schoolwork, Neville glanced down at the unopened letter in his hands. He could read it later, in private. For now, he felt content knowing that, whether his friends believed him or not, Y/N was real—and she cared about him enough to send something as special as this.

Even if they still found it hard to imagine, that was enough for Neville. And maybe, just maybe, one day soon, his friends would get to meet her and see for themselves that she wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. But until then, he’d hold on to the scarf, the letter, and the quiet certainty that she was thinking of him as much as he was thinking of her.

----------

The Gryffindor common room was quieter than usual, the usual hustle and bustle replaced with a mellow atmosphere as the school year drew to a close. Most of the students had already packed their things, their trunks neatly stacked and waiting by the fireplace. The chairs around the room were occupied by groups of friends chatting, playing games, or simply lounging around, savoring the last few moments before heading home for the summer.

Neville sat with Seamus, Dean, and a couple of other Gryffindors near the windows, gazing out at the grounds. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow on the stone walls.

“I can't believe the year’s over already,” Dean said, leaning back in his chair. “Feels like we were just getting back from Christmas break.”

“Yeah, crazy,” Seamus agreed, his tone relaxed. “But I’m not going to miss the essays.”

Neville, absently fiddling with his wand, smiled. “I was telling Y/N about how busy it’s been. She’s had a lot going on too. The end of the year at Beauxbatons is apparently just as hectic as here.”

Seamus shot him a quick glance, his expression neutral, though Dean exchanged a brief look with him. “Y/N, huh?” Seamus said, not missing a beat. “Sounds like she’s got it rough over there.”

Neville nodded, completely unaware of Seamus’s inner skepticism. “Yeah, she’s been swamped. But we’re planning to meet up over the summer. She might even come to England for a bit.”

“That’s great, mate,” Dean chimed in, his voice casual though he raised his eyebrows slightly.

Neville stood up suddenly as if remembering something important. “Oh no! I forgot to pack my Astrronomy textbooks. I’ll be right back.”

With that, he hurried off to his dorm room, leaving the rest of them sitting there. The moment Neville was out of earshot, Seamus turned to the others with an exaggerated sigh.

“Alright,” Seamus said, leaning forward. “I like Neville, you all know that, but I’m telling you, there is no way Y/N exists.”

Dean grinned, leaning in as well. “You’re still stuck on that?”

Seamus shrugged, but the look on his face said he was convinced. “Come on, Dean. You’ve heard him talk about her for months—perfect French girlfriend from Beauxbatons who just happens to love magical plants as much as he does? I mean, sure, it could be true, but she’s never sent a picture, she’s never visited Hogwarts, and the only proof we’ve got are a few letters that could be from anyone.”

One of the younger Gryffindors, who had been listening in, piped up. “So, you think Neville’s lying? He doesn’t seem like the type to make something like that up.”

Seamus shook his head quickly. “No, I don’t think he’s lying, not really. I think he believes it. But I’m just saying—it sounds like he’s being catfished. It’s not like he’s met her in person since they started writing. For all we know, it could be some bloke from Durmstrang having a laugh.”

Dean chuckled. “You reckon someone’s really going that far to mess with Neville? That’s pretty dedicated.”

Seamus leaned back, his arms crossed. “Look, I’m not trying to be mean. I just don’t think she’s real. Or if she is, maybe she’s not exactly what Neville thinks. It’s just a bit… convenient, isn’t it? All these grand stories, but no one’s ever seen her.”

One of the girls nearby, who had been half-listening, frowned. “But Neville doesn’t seem like he’s making it up. He talks about her like she’s the real deal.”

“I know, that’s what makes me feel bad about doubting him,” Seamus admitted. “But you’ve got to admit it’s a bit suspicious. Every time she’s supposed to visit, something comes up. She’s ‘too busy,’ or ‘there’s something going on at Beauxbatons.’ It’s been almost a year and still no sign of her.”

Dean raised a hand to stop Seamus. “Alright, alright. But what if she is real and just… busy?”

Seamus snorted softly, though his tone was lighter. “Then she’s the busiest girlfriend in the world. Look, I’m not saying I’d tell Neville to his face that I don’t believe her. The poor bloke would be crushed. But between us… I just don’t see it.”

There was a brief lull in the conversation, and Seamus’s words hung in the air. The group seemed divided—some more skeptical, others wanting to believe in Neville’s story.

“Maybe she’ll surprise us,” one of the younger students said. “Maybe she’ll show up next year and you’ll all feel silly.”

Seamus grinned, though his expression remained doubtful. “If she shows up, I’ll buy Neville a drink. But until then… I’m betting we’re in for another year of stories about a girl we’ll never meet.”

As they laughed and talked, the door to the boys’ dormitory creaked open, and Neville came back down the stairs, his arms full of books.

“Found them,” Neville said, smiling as he returned to his spot by the window. “I almost forgot the Mooncalf studies Y/N recommended too.”

Seamus caught Dean’s eye but quickly smiled at Neville. “Glad you found everything, mate. All set for the summer, then?”

“Yeah,” Neville said, sitting down and looking a little wistful. “Just can’t wait to see her.”

Seamus nodded, his tone friendlier now. “Hope it all works out, Nev.”

As the conversation moved on to other things, the quiet skepticism lingered, but none of them had the heart to say anything to Neville directly. As much as they doubted Y/N’s existence, they couldn’t bring themselves to crush Neville’s enthusiasm. They just hoped, in their own way, that somehow, Y/N would turn out to be real after all.

----------

The Hogwarts Express rattled along the tracks, carrying its excited students back to school for another year. Laughter, chatter, and the occasional call of a vendor selling sweets filled the air as students reunited after the summer holiday, exchanging stories and catching up on the latest news.

In one of the compartments, Neville sat with Seamus, Dean, and a few other Gryffindors, a wide grin on his face as he animatedly recounted his summer adventures.

“… and then we went to this amazing garden in Kew! She couldn’t believe how many magical plants were hidden in plain sight. I’ve never seen her so excited,” Neville said, his eyes sparkling as he spoke about Y/N for the umpteenth time since they’d boarded the train.

Seamus leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, nodding along. “That sounds pretty great, Neville. So, you finally got to go on a proper date, huh?”

Neville beamed. “Yeah! We went on a few, actually. We had the best time. She was in London visiting her family for a couple of weeks, so we got to meet up almost every day.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, curious. “You said she was visiting family before, right? Didn’t she have plans to stay longer?”

“Yeah, she did,” Neville admitted, his tone dropping slightly, “but something came up. Her family had to leave earlier than expected, so she didn’t get to meet you guys like we’d planned.” He looked apologetic as he said it, clearly disappointed that his friends hadn’t been able to meet Y/N again.

“That’s too bad,” Dean said, sharing a glance with Seamus. “We were looking forward to it.”

“Yeah, me too,” Neville sighed, but then perked up again. “But we did take loads of pictures! I wanted to show you all, but… uh…” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “She took the photos with her by accident when she left. We were using her camera, and she packed it with all her stuff.”

Seamus blinked, his expression carefully neutral. “So, no pictures?”

Neville shook his head, he saw the clear skepticism beneath Seamus’s question but brushed it off. “No, but she’s going to send them by owl as soon as she can. She promised. There were some really good ones too—us in front of the Leaky Cauldron, at Kew Gardens, and a few near the Tower of London. I can’t wait to show you all.”

Seamus exchanged another glance with Dean, a small smile tugging at his lips, though he kept it from looking too patronizing. “Sounds like it was a great time, mate.”

“Oh, it was,” Neville said earnestly. “Y/N’s amazing. We even talked about coming up with ways to visit more often during the year. Maybe meet up during the Hogsmeade weekends. I’m going to send her a letter as soon as we get back to Hogwarts.”

Seamus nodded along, though his smile faltered slightly. “Yeah, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Dean shifted in his seat, glancing out the window for a moment before leaning forward. “So, Neville, you said her family comes to London often, right? Does she have a lot of family here?”

“Her dad’s English,” Neville explained. “Her mum is French, so they stay over there most of the time but they come back to visit every summer, and sometimes during the holidays. That’s how we managed to spend so much time together.”

Dean nodded slowly, while Seamus leaned forward just a little. “And you didn’t think to borrow one picture, maybe a keepsake for yourself?” he asked lightly. There was no malice in his voice, but there was an unmistakable undertone of doubt.

Neville ignored it. “I didn’t need to. We’ve been writing so much, and she’s going to send the pictures soon. Besides, I’ve got her letters, and I brought back a few things we picked up together. Look.” He pulled out a small, intricately woven bracelet from his bag. “We got these matching bracelets from a little magical shop near Diagon Alley. Hers has a charm for luck, and mine’s for protection.”

Seamus studied the bracelet for a moment before leaning back. “That’s nice, Neville.”

Dean smiled at the bracelet, genuinely trying to be supportive. “Yeah, it looks great. You two must’ve had a good time.”

“We did,” Neville replied, relaxing now that he was surrounded by his friends. “She’s just… brilliant. I really wish you could’ve met her. I know you’d all get along.”

Seamus offered a friendly smile, though his eyes flickered with doubt. “Yeah, maybe next time, Neville.”

The compartment grew quiet for a moment, and the sound of the train clacking along the tracks filled the space. Outside, the countryside whizzed by in a blur of green fields and distant hills, and the feeling of excitement for the new school year was still palpable.

Dean, always the diplomat, broke the silence. “Well, I’m glad you had a good summer, Neville. Hopefully next time, the timing will work out better.”

Neville nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I’m sure it will. She really wants to meet you all. She’s heard so much about you.”

Seamus shot Dean a look, and Dean just shrugged, his face carefully neutral. No one wanted to say it, but the story about Y/N was starting to sound a bit too convenient—another summer gone by, another set of plans that didn’t quite line up. And now, no photos to show for it, either.

But despite their growing doubts, Seamus and Dean weren’t about to crush Neville’s enthusiasm. Not after he had spent the entire train ride practically glowing with happiness. Still, once Neville got up to stretch his legs and grab some snacks from the trolley, Seamus leaned toward Dean with a raised eyebrow.

“So… still no Y/N, huh?”

Dean chuckled quietly. “Still no Y/N.”

“I swear, if she’s real, I’ll eat my own shoe,” Seamus muttered under his breath. “Every time he gets close to introducing her, something comes up.”

Dean glanced out the window again before replying. “I don’t know, Seamus. Maybe she’s real, but there’s just bad timing. Or maybe…”

“Maybe she’s in his head,” Seamus finished, his tone soft but resigned. “I just don’t get how one person could have this much bad luck when it comes to us meeting her.”

Dean shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “At this point, I just hope for Neville’s sake that she’s real. You can see how much he cares about her.”

“Yeah,” Seamus sighed, leaning back in his seat. “I hope so too.”

When Neville returned with a handful of Chocolate Frogs and a Butterbeer, his smile was as bright as ever, blissfully unaware of the quiet conversation that had just passed between his friends. And as the Hogwarts Express continued its journey, his thoughts were already on the letters he’d be sending to Y/N once they arrived at school.

----------

The atmosphere in the Great Hall was buzzing with excitement. The start of a new school year always brought surprises, but this time, there was something different in the air. The students were seated at their house tables, eagerly awaiting the feast, when Professor Dumbledore rose from his seat to address the hall.

“Welcome, students, to another year at Hogwarts!” Dumbledore’s voice echoed throughout the room, immediately capturing everyone’s attention. “I am particularly pleased to announce that this year, we will be hosting a most extraordinary event… the Triwizard Tournament!”

A murmur spread through the hall, rippling with whispers and shocked expressions. Neville, seated at the Gryffindor table with Seamus, Dean, Harry, Hermione, and Ron, exchanged confused glances with the others.

“Triwizard Tournament?” Dean muttered. “That wasn’t in the usual announcements.”

“Yeah, didn’t see that coming,” Seamus added, leaning in to hear more.

Dumbledore continued, explaining the rich history of the tournament, how it had been revived, and the prestigious honor of being chosen as a champion. Then, with a wave of his hand, he motioned to the entrance of the hall.

“And now, may I introduce our esteemed guests from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and Durmstrang Institute.”

The heavy doors at the end of the hall swung open, and the students of Beauxbatons Academy entered. They moved with grace and poise that captivated everyone, wearing their sky-blue silk robes as they marched in perfect unison. Neville’s heart raced as he scanned the group, but he couldn’t spot Y/N among them.

“Who are they?” Harry asked, squinting to get a better look.

“I don’t know,” Hermione replied, intrigued. “But they look amazing.”

“They’re all so… elegant,” Ron said, trying to take it all in. “Do you think they’re all that good-looking?”

“Probably,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes playfully.

As the Beauxbatons students completed their entrance, Neville’s heart dropped when he didn’t see Y/N. Just when he thought he might be imagining things, she stepped forward, performing acrobatic flips and graceful spins, her hair flowing behind her like a cascade of river waves. She looked more stunning than Neville could ever have described.

“Bloody hell, who is that?” Dean whispered, eyes wide in disbelief.

Seamus was staring, frozen in place. “No way…”

When the introductions were done, Neville leaned closer to his friends. “That’s her! That’s Y/N!”

Harry raised an eyebrow, glancing between Neville and the group. “Wait, who’s Y/N? Which one?”

Neville pointed toward Y/N, who was beaming with joy alongside her classmates. “The one in the front! I didn’t know she was coming!”

The others turned to look, their expressions shifting from curiosity to disbelief. “No way!” Ron exclaimed, glancing at Neville. “You weren’t joking about her being real?”

Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. “She’s absolutely brilliant!”

Before anyone could say another word, a voice called out from across the hall.

“Neville!”

Neville’s head snapped up, and there she was, weaving through the crowd, her face lighting up when she spotted him. “Y/N!” he breathed.

The next thing he knew, Y/N was rushing toward him, a wide smile on her face. “Neville!” she called again, and in an instant, she was there, throwing her arms around him.

Without hesitation, she began planting kisses all over his face—on his cheeks, forehead, and nose—her laughter bubbling up as she clung to him. “I’ve missed you so much!” she said between kisses.

The entire Gryffindor table stared in stunned silence. Seamus’s mouth was hanging open, while Dean could only blink in disbelief. All around the hall, students who had been casually talking or laughing stopped to watch the unexpected display. Whispers started spreading like wildfire, but Neville didn’t care—he was too overjoyed, too caught up in the moment.

“Y/N!” Neville finally managed to say, his face flushed from the attention. “I—I missed you too! I didn’t know you were coming! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N giggled and pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her hands still resting on his shoulders. “I wanted to surprise you, silly. You should’ve seen your face when I came in!” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

Neville was too overwhelmed to respond properly. His heart felt like it was about to burst from happiness. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, grinning ear to ear.

“I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere,” Y/N said softly, wrapping her arms around him again in a tight hug.

The Gryffindor table was still frozen in place, watching the entire scene unfold with wide eyes. Seamus finally found his voice and leaned toward Dean, whispering, “Well… that is not what I expected at all...”

Dean shook his head in disbelief. “You’re not the only one, mate.”

Y/N finally pulled away from Neville, her smile never fading. She glanced around at his friends, who were still recovering from the shock. “You must be Neville’s friends,” she said brightly, offering them a cheerful wave. “It’s so nice to finally meet you all!”

“Y-Yeah, we’ve heard… a lot about you,” Dean stammered, offering a friendly, albeit awkward smile.

Y/N laughed, completely oblivious to the lingering disbelief. “I hope all good things!”

“Definitely,” Seamus managed to say, shooting Neville a look that was a mixture of awe and apology. “Welcome to Hogwarts, Y/N.”

As the rest of the Great Hall resumed their chatter, Neville stood there with Y/N by his side, his face glowing with pride. After a year of doubt, teasing, and skepticism, here she was—real, vibrant, and wonderful.

For once, Neville didn’t need to say anything. His friends finally believed him.

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respectthepetty · 10 days ago

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Pit Babe 2 Colors - Ep. 9

I'm watching the second season of Pit Babe on mute with no subtitles and double-speed just like I did the first season Y'all know why I'm here, so let me get to it because Alan is probably sacrificing himself for someone on the team since he is falling apart in the next episode, and I'm already panicking!

First, William unnecessarily hit Barbara with that vase of pink/reddish flowers, and I just feel like William is doing the most for other reasons beyond the obvious. Why didn't he just sneak in? Why did he tease Barbie before he took Charles? Why did he go back and hit Barbie once he had Charles? Why did he want to make sure Barbie knew it was him? Because he has a death wish? So he could get caught?!

And more importantly, how did William know where Charles was?! Because if he has always known where the lab was, why not just destroy what Christopher Waymond is working on? Alan, Jeffrey, Peter, and Christopher Waymond were the only ones in the lab with him, so is Alan in his red really a mole or does someone else who can't work out his color know more than he should?!

Because I honestly feel bad for William. He is not an angel, but it doesn't seem like he wanted whatever is happening to him.

At the beginning of the season, his car was orange but as the season has unfolded, his car has become redder, but he has never shown up as fully red.

He shows up at green sometimes.

Green could be symbolic of rottenness, envy, and greed, which is a color that tends to show up in Tony's lair because, just like the horned statues in the background, he is evil and trying to create beasts out of humans.

But the green also slightly shows up around the hourglass, which could mean hope, luck, and success, like time is on their side. If Charles can take Jeffrey's powers and see the future, why not take William's power and change the present?

William is not great, but his powers could be, especially if a Blue Boy takes them.

If Charles hasn't had amnesia yet, perhaps an overload of people's power might be the cause of it, and William's could be the final push?

But the green color wasn't just on William this episode.

Kimberly was slightly green as he smoked outside while being surrounded by (Kenta's) black as he thought about Kenta. Kimberly is normally the light to Kenta's dark, so for his apartment to be this dark, Kimberly must really be missing him.

And Dean got hit with the tiniest of green lighting when he was discussing whatever he was discussing with Vegas' Hedgehog.

But Dean sacrificed himself for the greater cause; however, I already thought Dean had died once when he got shot and thrown off the bridge, so I don't think he is dead now because we are still missing this shot from the trailer, and if Whiny Winifred has been brought back to life after that fire, then so has Dean, and that is probably Alan looking at him — I HATE IT HERE! Nobody can stay dead (which also leaves the possibility that Dean could still be the ultimate mole and this was all for show).

But I also have no idea why Alan would talk to Anthony or Whiny Winifred in the first place, so is the green the connection?

Alan has been in danger all season because the red keeps showing up around him as if Anthony already has a hold on him, but the teeny tiny green is there too under Barbie.

So does the green mean sacrifice? I know from being tagged that Jeffrey didn't see Alan in his future, so . . .

Is Alan going to be another Waymond next to Jeffrey?

Is Barbie going to lose another family member?

And is Vegas' Hedgehog going to be the reason?

Southwest Airlines is clearly in love in his pink, but Vegas' Hedgehog keeps turning darker each episode, and I just can't trust him.

I shouldn't trust this motherf*cker because he has the most suspicious looks.

But he also seems annoyed by all the other things happening that distract him from just being in his lab.

And unlike Vegas' Hedgehog, Christopher Waymond is usually surrounded by blue, and stands on the side with Peter and Kimberly and neither of those men aren't bad.

Unlike Vegas' Hedgehog who seems to be the odd one out this season as he is usually isolated from the group. If he turns out to be the Best Boy, I fully apologize for the smear campaign I have written against this season, but he is being sooooo strange.

However, I was mad at my Black Brooder babygirl Kentana most of last season until he killed his shitty father.

Yet he is rescuing himself from being a hostage in the hottest way possible, so he continues to prove to me that I was wrong about him.

EXCEPT HE GOT CAUGHT AGAIN BECAUSE HE DIDN'T JUST ESCAPE ONCE HE BROKE FREE!

So from the trailer, if this isn't him getting experimented on in the next episode, I'm sure it will be eventually.

But, more importantly, for two guys that are in love and about to kiss, Southwest Airlines seems really hurt about it.

Vegas's Hedgehog, we only have four episodes left, so it's time clear your name and prove me wrong.

please

#pit babe #pit babe season 2 #the colors mean things #and they are going to guide me the whole way through #color coded boys in love #I kind of wish Dean had died so there would be one less suspect on this board #but Sonic continues to get more suspicious each episode #How did William know where Charles was?#how does he know?!#long post #episode nine

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en-trashy · 3 months ago

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Every breath you take 박종성

Jay becomes obsessed claiming he's in love, pure sick love, he finds always the way to be there

Tw: obsessed Jay, he's a pervert doing not good stuff, panty sniffing and stealing, stalking, mention of making someone disappear but there's not a proper description of it, yandere if you squint (yes I like to read yandere) this is my first of this type so in my opinion it's not so heavy or dark

6.6k words

Important: I feel like I shouldn't even say this because we're all rational people and we all know this is fiction, that it's not a big deal, but I have been witness of how so many dark fic writers received hate for it and how many of them deactivate, but I know that if you read this is because you wanted to. I would say that you have to be over 18 to read this, and that I'm not responsible for the things you decide to read, certainly I don't believe Jay or anyone in Enha is like this because this is just fiction.

🎶Every breath you take

And every move you make

Every bond you break, every step you take

I'll be watchin' you🎶

Her life was so simple, y/n was just a college student with friends, a part time job and a small apartment, everything she needed, boring not anything out of normal, nothing exciting or out of the common; it was like that until he lays his eyes on her, it was simply attraction, he saw her just walking down the street one time catching his eye immediately, she was carrying her bag from college holding a pile of books on her hands, he went to that campus because his family was a benefactor there, he went to set the details for the plaque with the name of his family at the entrance of the university, as well as the event that will be held in celebration, he stopped listening when she appears, the dean noticed his lack of attention silencing himself until Jay turned again just confirming that he will be there on Friday in the name of his dad and grandpa.

By Friday he got ready hoping to see her again, he gave a little speech thanking for the recognition searching in the crowd for her, it was the last part of the ceremony he was taking the photo when she walked past them not giving two seconds of her time to whatever was happening there she was rushing holding her books to her chest watching how she gets in a café in front of the University, he finished his things and followed her looking at the tables finding her in a corner buried in books and a cup, she was studying probably and he was fascinated by her, he ordered something to not look like the creep he was in that moment when she left he followed her, Jay didn't know what got him but he feels so attracted to her, he followed her until he saw her entering a store, he waited outside all day looking at her working seeing her leave at night, he followed her again watching her go inside the apartment complex.

Jay didn't know how or why but he found himself doing it again the next day, then again, until he knew which places she often likes to go, he was frequenting the store where she worked, he never went inside just outside looking at her. His world was the opposite of hers, polished with money, composed, serious and frigid, Jay had that old money thanks to his grandparents, he wasn't just rich he was basically the owner of the city where they live, of course the clothing store where she works was too cheap for him and she noticed the first time they meet.

Jay was unsure to go in, just looking at her from outside the window-shop, he took a deep breath stepping inside smelling the new clothes and cherry perfume, there is barely anyone inside since they just opened, the store lacked of customers and it was only her and another two employees, she got close to him and his heart pounded hard on his ears.

-Hi, welcome, how can I help you?- he was paralyzed, was he so obvious watching her? She was taken a little back intimidated by his strong gaze- are you looking for something in particular?- she examined his clothes, how his suit was perfectly tailored and it fits him like it's just made for him, he smelled expensive and looked like a million dollars she couldn't understand why he was there- well if you need help with something you can let me know, my name is y/n and I'm here to help you- she signaled her employee tag smiling and going back to fold clothes

Y/n felt that intimidating gaze on her following her movements, she went inside the storage on the back to take out the new clothing in the huge boxes, carrying it herself struggling to do so, suddenly the weight of the box was removed from her arms and Jay was standing holding the box.

-I need help with something… where you want me to put this?- his voice was stern and cold

-over here is okay- she pointed to the exhibition in the middle of the store- thank you… how can I help you?

-I’m not really sure about my size you think this would fit me?- he was carrying a basic cotton t-shirt, making her laugh, he frowns

-Probably would fit you like a crop top, it's for women- she smiles while taking the garment- follow me- she gracefully moves through the store until the loungewear for men- we have different fits, how do you like your clothing?

-I’m not sure, what is your recommendation?- he looks at her making her feel so small

-well it depends on what you like, for example I like to be comfortable and I always choose baggy fit for the options I use at home, always cotton too… but you seem the opposite to a relaxed fit so probably a slim or even regular- she smiles showing him the options

-no, I'll take the one you like, to try something new… just don't know the size

-don't worry I got you- she takes one extending it putting it in from of him, taking the next size to compare- I think this will be great for you

-I'll take two in every color please- she helped to take everything he asked for lending him the garments, he stayed there waiting for her to guide him to pay

-this way… there my coworker will help you with the payment, it was so nice to help you, come back soon- he didn't want someone else to attend him, he wanted her- oh and thanks again for helping me with the box- she smiles just leaving him there continuing to do her job.

Jay moved on an automatic like movements, cold and calculated, the relaxed him that was around her disappeared, he was nonchalantly with the other employee, taking his black card paying, he didn't thanked her snatching the bag and his card from the employee’s hand, he went out to his car the driver waiting for Jay, he went to work but couldn't take her out of his mind. Y/n her name, her smile, her hair in a messy bun, those eyes, her laugh, everything about her was running on his mind.

It didn't get better for Jay, it was actually worse each day thinking about her, after that small polite talking he couldn't help himself, one of those days while she was out at school he sent workers to her house to install hidden cameras everywhere he could, he slowly started to learn about her in a non conventional way, following in the dark on the way home, he knows what time and what days she goes to work, the time of her lunch and which road she takes home or school, her classes, places she often go, her friends, oh how much he hates all her friends, he knew her morning routine which product she uses in shower how her body looks like, he even bought the perfume she wears to know what it's like to actually be around her, spraying some on the wrist of his suit, he convinced himself that everything he did was because he was in love, he loved to see her, even putting on escenarios to accidentally cross paths with her, even if it was just a little bump, helping her pick a pen, a polite smile on the corridors, he was pretending at her college talking about some renovations and stuff like that, he used the money of his family to actually make it happen and be more casual about him being on her space so often.

He loved to see her doing mundane things until jealousy rotted him, on her free day she went out dressed pretty, he saw on the cameras how much of an effort she put on her image, parked outside her apartment he saw someone at the door and she coming down happy, a date? She went on a date? On the regular he hates when any male got near her, but this was different, it was intentional she was on a date, he of course followed her watching how miserable he was he couldn't even bother to open the doors for her, not even asking if the movie was alright or if she wanted something from the candy section, probably those sour candies she loves, nothing he was a completely asshole, Jay wanted nothing more but to punch him on the face, all that anger and bitterness inside him was clouding his rational thoughts, he decided to actually move on from her, if she wanted to be with a moron he won't interfere.

The next day Jay parked near the store only to see her through the window shop, today in particular he wanted more of her not just stare from afar, he was still angry about her going on a date, she is his, or it will be; he went inside immediately putting his eyes on her like a predator on his innocent prey, he walks imponent next to her.

-can you help me?- his tone made her jolt, it sounded angry and she didn't like to deal with this type of customers

-sorry I'm actually going on my break now, but I can get you someone else- Jay checks his watch knowing is a lie he knows what time she does everything

-it be just a minute, you helped me last time I was here and I think you'll be as helpful like you were back then- Jay’s jaw tensed and she felt intimidated by him and his presence

-okay… what can I do for you then?- she almost whispered

-I bought shirts last time, I need some loungewear bottoms now, just again I don't know my size for that- she walked in silence making the motion for him to follow her, taking sweatpants and cotton basketball shorts

-I highly recommend both, pants for winter and shorts for spring… the weather will change soon so better to have both- she gave a forced practiced smile and Jay felt angry at that, she wasn't acting like herself why she smiles so naturally at other clients and not him?

-i'll take them, in every color… you recommended baggy fit last time I want the same now- she nods taking one she thinks it will fit, getting close to put it next to him checking the length

-this is it… here you have it sir, my coworker will help you with the pay…-her voice die on her throat seeing her coworker go to the employee's bathroom and leaving her spot alone there wasn't anyone else near available to take her out of this- come with me I'll help you with the payment- she feels afraid of him and she doesn't know why exactly

Y/n scanned everything, folding the garments and putting it in two bags, Jay took his card to pay, handling it trying not to be so harsh this time, he stayed there in silence just looking at her making her uncomfortable.

-do you wanna go for a drink after your shift?- that took her for surprise

-I'm sorry I can't- she gave another fake smile- here you have your items, you have 30 days from now to make any return, may be in the original packaging and tag with your receipt, thank you for shopping with us sir, have a nice day- that makes him furious he knows that today after work she just go home, he swallowed his anger, trying to soften his voice

-thank you… can I have your number?- she was feeling more uncomfortable each second wanting to say no but she couldn't bring herself to say anything at all- or here, you can have mine, please call me soon I really would love to go out with you- he takes his wallet taking a presentation card with his number and name leaving it on her hand, taking his bags and credit card- thank you for your help, have a nice day y/n

She stayed there petrified putting the card on her pocket trying to keep with her day as usual, but she couldn't help but to feel a chill running down her spine remembering his intense eyes on her following her movements, she asked to be move that week to the warehouse in the back to make inventory of the store.

All week Jay parked outside as usual seeing her at the beginning of her shift and at the end but not through the window-shop not once, the five days she works there not a single time he got a glimpse of her, the only thing keeping him sane was the cameras, he was so done because she also never once tried to call him or text, he was so done waiting for her to go out of her classes looking how she seems so happy and easy going around everyone, y/n looks stunning, wearing a little sparkling dress and heels something unusual in her, Jay had never saw her like that, along with her friends she went inside a taxi he followed her until they got to a bar, one of the exclusive ones where you need to be either important or willing to wait in hold for months to have a reservation. She went to the door with her friends going inside giggling since they do have a table inside for them, it was much more easy for Jay just standing at the door and the guard called for someone to guide him to the VIP area it was only him in there watching all over the place searching for her, he found her in the middle of her spot with a Birthday Girl tiara and one of the waiters holding the tray of birthday shots for her and her friends, his waiter arrived.

-whiskey on the rocks for me… and you see that girl there?- she signaled on her direction, the waiter nods- your best champagne bottle for her, everything she asks for is on me

-Yes Mr Park, you want me to tell her it is from you or want it to be anonymous?

-Is the same, ask her and her friends if they want to be on VIP, if they agree move them here with me

The waiter nods, fulfilling his demands, Y/N was surprised to say the least and her friends were astonished.

-we didn't ask for for it, must be a mistake- she smiles not wanting to be rude with someone that is just doing his job

-Mr Park sent it for you, also he wants to let you know that you can be move to VIP if you want- she didn't knew who Mr Park was and was about to decline when her friends agreed for her the waiter smiles- follow me this way please- they take her glasses following the waiter

-I don't know who sent it or why he offered a VIP- she whispered worried

-me neither but c’mon aren't you excited to be in VIP? We waited literally 5 months to be here and now we can have a better experience

-yeah and how are we supposed to pay?

-credit card, you worry too much just enjoy is your birthday

When they arrived there taking their seats, her friends were overjoyed to be in such a place, she took a sip of her glass feeling the taste of champagne for the first time, moaning of how delicious it was, her friends laughing at her.

-see it's not so bad… it's tasty and once in a lifetime chance, how many boys do you know that invite you a drink? Much less offering you VIP in anything?

-he said Mr Park must be a old man

-you can get yourself a sugar daddy- all her friends laugh and she does too

-yeah I would love to be involved with an old man because of money my dream come true

-that would be a shame for me if you prefer old men- a low dark voice erupted from the deepest barely illuminated corner of the space, all the girls turned their heads surprised- sorry to inform but I'm not old- Jay stand next to their table towering over her, his eyes lingering on her body on that skimpy outfit she's wearing

-are you Mr Park?- she looks at him trying to cover her chest with her arm sipping on her champagne

-no, Mr Park is my father and my grandpa, I'm Jay…- his gaze was intense only on her erasing everyone else from the space- so it's your birthday today y/n?- she nods- well congrats let's have a real celebration- he called for a waiter asking for several things for them

-you liar bitch, you told us you didn't know the person- her best friend gave a playful smack on her shoulder

-I don't… he just went to the store once and asked me out

-and you said yes of course?

-no… I don't know him- her friends smack their foreheads in unison- it's weird why would someone like him even go to the store I work at? Why would he want to go out with me?

-listen y/n I Love you to the bone, but you're wasting a gold opportunity here… those things that happen only in your books are happening now to you… don't you wish for something good in life? Please just this time live the real life not the one in books

-I didn't knew what type of cake you like so I asked for everything available, and I see you liked the champagne- Jay smiles to them, trying to be nice to her friends he overheard their whispered conversation seeing his opportunity with y/n thanks to her noisy group of friends

-Jay so what do you do here alone?- the flirting tone made him want to punch her in the face as if it wasn't obvious that he likes y/n

-just hanging out after work- he answered very politely

-do you have a girlfriend? Or a wife maybe?

-no, neither of them

-so you don't have your Mrs Park?- her friend obviously was throwing herself to Jay pulling discreetly her top to show her cleavage and her noticeable big breasts

-I don't but I really like someone, I'm hoping for her to accept going out with me someday- y/n blushed at that

-but you can still have fun with other girls until she accepts, don't you?

-I rather not, when I like something is pretty difficult to actually take my interest in something else- Jay rejected her so politely that her friend didn't have a real reason to rant staying silence, the waiters arrived putting everything he asked for on the table, holding his glass for a refill of his whiskey- well birthday girl, what you wanna try first? I'm sorry they didn't have actual cake but you may find something you like here- y/n didn't know how to react,all the pastries and fine bakery probably he was used to was to much for her

-I don't know… I'm not sure what is everything here

-well since you're the expert in helping me with my lounge wear I'll be the expert in this- he took a plate with a small pie on top taking a little spoon to hand feed her- lime and pistachio pie with swiss meringue on top… my favorite- he looks directly to her eyes making her blush- please eat I ordered for everyone, is on me don't worry- Jay said with a soft smile to her friends, turning his attention to her again, putting a strand of her hair behind the ear

Her friends giggling taking each one a piece of what he asked for them, he keeps looking at her embellished by her eyes, giving small bites of the pie, taking the last bite for him, smiling fondly at her, her friends started to make their way to the dancefloor leaving them alone.

-you didn't call

-I lost the card- she said embarrassed for lying, feeling his strong gaze on her

-I can give you my phone now and you can just save yourself- he gave his phone so she can type, trembling y/n put on her number there he called her immediately hearing hers ring on her purse- now you can save me

-okay- she does as he said, feeling so small on her sit, Jay's arm around the back of the chair- I think is my time to go, my friends already left me here alone and I didn't want to be here in the first place- she's tried to stand up but he holds her pulling her back in place

-you're not alone- he's pouty- you don't like the place, wanna go somewhere else?

-I just wanna go home, my friends insisted it was the best for me to find a boyfriend coming to this type of place, is not what I usually like to go- he felt a tinge of jealousy, was she really looking for a boyfriend? Why did she reject him?

-what type of place do you like?

-more quiet, less crowded… my home in general

-I can take you home now, I'm about to leave too

-my friends, they're probably waiting for me- she looks at the dancefloor where of course they didn't mind if she was there alone or with anyone- just… let me send a message and leave my part of the check

-No, never… birthday girl shouldn't be paying for her things on a special date, just text them I already pay for yours- she was shocked clicking on her phone, having her Best friend’s voice on her head telling her to live out of her fantasy books.

She saw how her friends just enjoy on the dancefloor and she was so tense around Jay, seeing him slide his card like is nothing, he wrapped his arm around her waist guiding her out, the cold weather makes her tremble the dress was not helping either, Jay took off his jacket putting it on her shoulders almost immediately his hand was on her waist pulling her closer to his body, she blush while he smiles and died at how pretty she is, the valet parking gave him his car and he opened the door for her going to his spot and giving his phone so she can put her address on the GPS, even tho he perfectly knows where her apartment is, all those days following her, his little videos watching from afar, from outside her window, it was a luck he actually found the perfect time to install the cameras, he knew everything about her how perfect she is, everything from the way she is to the way she look, his favorite videos being the ones of her on the shower, Jay erased those images driving in silence, only with the radio as the background noise, when he parked outside he ran to open the door and letting her out, once on her entrance door she stayed there not sure what to do.

-thank you… for everything, I really liked everything

-it's a pleasure, I really hope we can have a date soon, anytime you're available- she blush unsure of tell him this

-do you… would you like to come inside?... I'm a little hungry and lonely on my birthday- she looks at the floor feeling his hand on her chin to make her look at him

-I would love to, birthday girl- he fixed the plastic tiara following her inside, she opened the door to the small apartment letting him in, first thing he noticed was that cherry perfume of hers, but inside her home it was more prominent hitting his senses

-I have instant ramen only and I'm craving it… do you think you can make it while I change my clothes?

-no problem at all- he followed her to the kitchen hearing while she signaled where to find everything, then she disappeared into her home.

Jay feels thrilled to actually be inside her house instead of outside having glimpses of her, his sleeves rolled up, the tie was on his jacket pocket and the first two buttons undone, he was feeling relaxed almost like is usual for him to be there, like he belongs there, he was in cooking ramen for her, putting extra effort to make it tasty, hearing the faint sound of the shower running, imagining her there under the water he smiles for himself, taking the plates to serve both, peeling the boiled eggs, this was so domestic and improper of him, but he likes this foreign feeling, by the time she stepped outside her bathroom she looks around only to confirm that he's not near running to her bedroom to dress herself, she wasn't used to wear a bra on her home so she slipped a baggy t-shirt and cotton shorts form the male section of her work, when Jay saw her he almost swear, he could imagine her in his clothes in his home, soon it will be like that, he just needs a little patient before making it come true.

-thank you… looks really good for someone who has never eat one of this

-who told you that? My nanny once gave me one because she used to love them

-but not this flavor I bet, this is my favorite and simply the best one to ever exist- Jay smiles at her adorable reaction

-eat and tell me how I did it- she took a big bite eating with her cheek full making a satisfied sound

-so good… now try it you'll like it- she looks with hopeful eyes seeing him take the first bite looking his face contort into something almost like pleasure- good right?

-the best thing I have ever tried- he took another big bite making her giggle eating too.

She felt better seeing him more grounded instead of his expensive look, so relaxed and comfortable around her, she offered to watch a movie, Jay looked at his watch checking the time.

-even if there's nothing I want more but to spend time with you, is getting late and I live a little far from here- he brush his hair back with his hand

Why did she feel disappointed? What if her best friend was right and she needed to live?, this golden opportunity, he was actually nice even if he looks intimidated and makes her nervous, her voice was tiny and embarrassed not used to actually being around boys or flirting.

-Why don't you stay the night?... I can make popcorn and give you clothes… you can stay- Jay smiles seeing her so red asking him to actually stay

-Birthday princess wants me to stay longer?- she nods and almost whined at the pet name, he looks at her adoring this- I'll stay, but you better choose a really good movie- she squeaks in excitement

-let's go, you gotta change- she gets up holding his hand and dragging him to the corridor to her bedroom- I have the same items you bought so don't worry

Jay was inside her room, it was better than he imagined, it smelled like her. She pushed him to her bed to sit, while she went to her closet choosing the same as she's wearing, giving it to him.

-you can change here or the bathroom while I make the popcorn, also here's the remote if you wanna start choosing something- she went out giggling not knowing why she was so happy about something so simple, maybe because her friends always told her that it was something boring and dragged her to places like bars or parties.

Jay was so happy on her room, looking at everything there, he started to undress looking at the photos of her and her friends displayed all over, he put on the shorts she gave her smelling her laundry detergent but most important that characteristic smell of her it was all over the room, her scent, he feels drunk on that folding carefully his clothes when he caught a glimpse of her laundry basket, a tiny lace coming out of it curiosity took over him taking it out looking at her panties, he smiles like if he just found a hidden treasure, black lace small that probably covers almost nothing, he knows is so wrong to do it but he can't, he just loves her too much he takes the fabric to his nose smelling the little piece of fabric, he felt dizzy it was so wrong but he was loving every second of it, he might found his new favorite smell, he was so into it that almost forgot he could get caught and all his plans about her will be ruined, he folded her panties and put them on his pants pocket, he was finishing folding his own clothes when she entered the room, Jay was still shirtless and she immediately closed her eyes.

-sorry, I should have knock- he let a small laugh putting the shirt on

-it's okay, it's your home… I finished dressing you can open your eyes

-did you choose the movie?- she sits on her bed happily

-not yet but I know what I want to see- he took the remote searching for what he wants, he was about to sit on her desk chair

-no, you have to be here… you're not gonna have popcorn- she pats the spot next to her and he couldn't say no to that

They got comfortable next to each other putting play on the movie, everything was normal and Jay felt that simpleness in life that rarely he could experience, she was so comfortable thanking her friend for pushing her to actually try with Jay, she got tired of being sitting laying down in bed putting her head on his lap, at first he froze but then his hand found his way on her hair, playing with it, the movie was pretty normal until the characters were having a heavy make out session, even if it wasn't explicit it was clear the sex escenario that it was planted as plot, she froze for a moment turning her face to look at Jay.

-Did you think I was easy?

-what?- he looks at her pretty face adorned with a frown

-when you invited me out… you thought about that- she signaled the tv and the characters waking up tangled in bed- you invited me drinks at the bar and moved me to VIP hoping I was easy?- Jay frowns

-no… I mean you're really pretty and hot… but I wasn't trying that… did I made you believe that?- even if he was a pervert and saw her so many times in her naked ithout her consent, he wanted to first try instead of forcing himself in her- sorry I didn't mean that

-It's difficult to think of something else… I mean you have money… you probably are used to the people doing whatever you want, maybe you thought I was easy and that your money would make me have sex with you

-no I talked to you because I was so blinded by your beauty that I had to try… I… I don't know what can I say to make you feel different about me

-if I ask for a kiss can it be just a kiss?- she looks at him still frowning

-I would do anything you want

-wanna just kiss… please not like that, sweet

Jay smiles cupping her face leaning to kiss her lips so softly, he basically fold himself since she was still laying on his lap, he was usually more rough but she demands sweet and he will be, he cannot deny her, Jay could sense how timit the kiss was so he pulled apart smiling the tv being just background noise now, her eyes looked at him and he basically melted at how adorable she looks,he kept playing with her hair.

-if I say I want more but then it's too much and wanna stop, would you?

-yes, as much or as little as you want- she takes a deep breath getting up and straddling him- is it okay if I hold you?

-yes I would like that- Jay placed his hands on her hips, he was taking all his self control to not pop a boner now that she was sitting on his lap- I don't have much experience… and my friends always said that I need to take more risks with men… that sex is amazing and stuff like that… I feel so dumb now

-don't…

-do you have a lot of experience?- Jay didn't want to lie but didn't want to be show as fuck boy

-I do actually…

-do you think it is a turn off that I don't?... I went on a blind date with this guy last week and he told me boys hated prudes…- she's pouting and Jay felt jealousy creeping on him hearing about her date but then it was rage, how did he dare to tell her that?- I just don't feel ready… my friends say that I'm dumb because I want romance not just sex, that I read too much novels that my brain is broken

-it's not bad to know what you want and if the other person it's not willing to do it it's not for you… personally I find adorable that you're inexperienced and it makes me think in ways to ruin you

-you really? You really like me?- she looks surprised

-wasn't I obvious?... I thought I was, I'm not used to flirt either usually girls come to me for my money

She pouts, cupping his face giving him a peck, really chaste, she looks at his eyes taking a deep breath closing her eyes to lean to kiss, she just put her lips on top of his, he smiles feeling that innocent kiss, when she pull apart he could barely call that a kiss but he smiles satisfied.

-can you kiss me? More like in the movie… like when the tongue is inside touching mine

-oh you wanna a french kiss- she nods eagerly- okay if you can't talk but wanna stop just tap my chest- he takes her hand showing her the motion- okay princess?- she let out something similar to a tiny moan making him smile- you like when I call you princess?- she nods again- words

-I like being a princess… your princess… please kiss me- she sounds impatient and he was holding to that barely self control on him

He cups her face inching closer, the first lip contact made him smile kissing her slowly, gradually he kissed her with more passion until his tongue poke her lip, she gasped and he used that as an opportunity he wasn't timid like her, his hands left her face, one was on the back of her neck pulling her closer to the hungry kiss and the other wrapped on her hip rubbing up and down, he was so into it being more rough pressing her body against his, he gave a little squeeze to her butt cheek making her squeak surprised, his member was starting to come alive and probably she could feel it, she did the tapping on his chest to stop, he growled pulling a part, but smiling seeing her red swollen lips.

-sorry I don't wanna that- she signaled his lap

-it's okay we're not gonna do anything you don't want- her hands rub his shoulders feeling happy

-i never did something like this- she smiles

-did you like it?- she nods

-it's better that in the books, thank you for stopping- she gives a quick peck- you're the first one to do it when I say and not when I'm crying- he frowns

- shouldn't be grateful for that, no one should even do something you don't like… somebody did something you didn't want?

-my last date wasn't so great… he thought we have the same idea of just casual sex, that's when he called me a prude because I didn't want it, I told him no but he just touched me under my skirt until I cried, he left me at the cinema alone, he also did this- she lifts a little her short showing a purple mark on her tight really close to her bottom- he was really rough, you touched me there too but it felt different- Jay wanted to touch and kiss the spot to make her feel better, but his irrational side wanted to murder the guy

-how did you get to be paired with such an idiot?

-it's from my school the captain of the football team, my friends like him and he even go out with one of them so they paired us together- she shrugs her shoulders- sometimes I don't know why we're friends if we're so different

-you should be with people that helps you be the best version of you not someone that put you on dangerous or uncomfortable situations- Jay kiss his fingers then placing them on her bruise- kiss it all better

- I'm sorry I said no when you invited me out, I was just still feeling his hands on me and didn't want it to be the same with you, specially because I don't know you yet

-it's okay it was a luck that we get to coincide in the same bar, now we have our first not official date, I really wanna take you on a proper date

-i kissed you on our first no official date… -she blush- please don't think wrong about me I'm not someone that does that often

-You don't owe me explanations and I won't think bad about you, I still think you're really pretty and I wanna get to know you… do you wanna go out with me to get to know each other?

-I would love to

Y/n wrapped her arms on his neck snuggling on him, Jay wrapped his arms around her body swinging softly while playing with her hair, it was late she was tired and he was lulling her, she slept like that on his arms, Jay watched her for a while not believing that it was real, that all those days watching her through windows and monitors were a memory now, he was holding her and he didn't had to force her, maybe it will be easier if he just makes her belief that he's the only one he needs, he will make sure of that. He took his phone sending a message, asking to one of his contacts to hunt the captain of the football team, he will make sure that ever again he will be able to even breath, he sent money as a payment for the job asking for it to be quick and not noticeable so she won't find out right away when that asshole that dared to touch what's his disappears.

Jay got comfortable laying on bed, with her still snuggle on his chest he took a blanket putting it over them he was here holding her and he wouldn't miss that opportunity to wake up next to her, he just needs a little more patience before she's completely his, before he takes her to his house and never let her go.

🎶Oh, can't you see

You belong to me?

How my poor heart aches

With every step you take🎶

Thank you for reading, I hope you like this I know it's really different from what I usually post but I wanted to also give it a try

#enhypen imagines #enhypen yandere #yandere enhypen #jay enhypen #park jongseong #enhypen fic #dark kinks #enhypen dark fic #perv enhypen #Spotify

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dubina-dawkins · 8 months ago

Text

PHONE-CALL

Sam Winchester x Reader

5,4k words

>Sam is feeling pretty bad. So, he's calling you, because he needs comfort, and seeks it in the sound of your voice through his Nokia's lousy speakers.

WARNING: hurt/comfort, angsty, beginning of season 3, mentions of canon deaths, oh god give sam some comfort, no usage of y/n, friendzone, gender neutral reader

It was getting harder and harder. Sam was having a hard time coping, to be honest. coping. With everything around him. Too much had happened in the last few years. Jessica had died; he still blamed himself for it. His father died, so many people died on hunts, all because of him. He was also the reason the gates of Hell had opened... Even Dean had sacrificed himself for him, selling his soul in exchange for Sam's life.

He felt too much guilt about it all, about everything.

And he needed... someone, to be honest. He was sitting on a decrepit motel bed, staring at the ceiling. Dean wasn't here, he was-- Basically enjoying the rest of his sold-out life. After a successful case, he decided not to care too much about the amount of drinking, eating, and women in bed. But so far, there were no women in the motel that night... And that was the moment he remembered about you.

You were...either a partner or an apprentice to one of Dean's exes, who was also a hunter. Only two years younger than Sam, and yet so adept at putting silver daggers into vampire necks-hell, you were as skilled a hunter as he was, as Dean was, and as your...partner? Mentor? It didn't matter now, it didn't matter at all.

All that mattered was how he opened up to you. Maybe for the first time since Jess died. No kissing, no nights in the same bed, not even in the same room. Just quiet embraces, with your fingers scratching his soft curls, running through them, tugging them back in a gentle manner. And his big hands pressed against your thighs, not intimate enough to ruin your exceptionally friendly relationship, but strong enough to express the way his thoughts went to bad places-not in a dirty way, but rather...in a sad way. When his thoughts became too self-indulgent, Sam needed your company, the feel of your body close by so he could draw lazy and uneven patterns with his fingers. God, he was a professional artist, if that's what we're talking about.

And now Sam felt impossibly anxious. Bad thoughts appeared in his wounded brain at an incredibly vivid rate. And you weren't around, not for a long time. You'd been keeping Jo company for some time now, leaving your mentor (partner??) to become the one to teach Jo more than what she already knew and could do. And as luck would have it, now that there was danger everywhere, demons...you were very, very far away from him.

His long fingers frantically pick up the phone from the nightstand, quickly scrolling down to find the contact with your name on it. He presses the contact, and for a couple seconds Sam just...stares at the screen. Maybe he shouldn't have called you. He didn't want to bother, didn't want anyone else to worry about him, but ... His fingers were functioning faster than the neurons in his brain.

"Hey...? Hey, hi, it's...it's Sam," he says quietly, almost fearfully, when the agonizing beeps end and you finally pick up the phone. But your voice is much more positive than his, louder, you're clearly glad to finally hear him!

"You didn't have to introduce yourself, handsome, do you really think I didn't put your number in my contacts?" Your voice is as teasing as ever, his favorite trait about you, one of his thousand favorites. And besides that tease-the chuckle after the answer, God, the feeling from that sound alone was bohemian. Sam felt the blood rush to his cheeks, and yet he continued. "Huh, just...just to make sure. I, uh...don't think, just wanted to hear from you, just-"

"Sam, don't languish. Spit it out, I can hear you're feeling awful" You grin, but your voice isn't so teasing anymore. Your tone is more gentle, more serious. Sam even thought-just thought-there were even such cooing, loving notes in your voice that his head was starting to spin from the fuzziness.

Sam stutters, his fingers trying to find some physical substitute for you, but the starched sheets are too rough against your skin. He speaks slowly, anxiously. That Sam was disturbed by the deaths around him, you knew perfectly well, and you knew that the hunters didn't really see Sam as someone they could trust - and that was another reason for his anxiety, that he could feel the stares in the crowd and expect that now he'd be tied to a chair again, and he and Dean would have no more guaranteed luck to get out. And yet, you listened, now and then, in the pauses of his story, whispering stupidly pleasant things into the tube. "Everything will be fine"; "everything will work out"; "I'll be there for you, if not physically, then mentally, that's for sure." The only thing missing from that boring line of reassurances (which, in those gentle whispers, still made Sam feel a little better) was the famous three words. But Sam stopped himself - you were friends. Friends, friends... Just friends.

"You're so good to me," his tone is soft, just above a whisper.

"Always welcome, love," and your playful use of the nickname squeezes the last of his strength out of him to keep from admitting his shameful feelings.

"You know, I...I think I might-" Sam's words are abruptly cut short as the key turns in the motel door with a loud click. The creak of the door swinging open,a woman's drunken laughter and the smug flirtation of that gravelly voice. Sam clearly should have taken a walk while Dean...did his investigating.

"You might what?"

"Later. See you later." Sam quickly drops the call with you, getting out of bed and tentatively walking past his brother, who barely noticed him. But before he walks out, he hesitantly squeezes the phone in his hands, squints and tosses it on the bed. To hell with it.

A/N: first oneshot there yay. love sammy wanna give him all the hugs indaworld

#spn #supernatural #sam winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural fluff #sam x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x you #sam x you #jared padalecki #but your honor i love him

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tillythemenace · 30 days ago

Note

Hello!

I hope I am not annoying! Apparently, as you have watched the remake and didn't like it, it feels a bit uh .. well... out of the seemingly "omg it is sooo good" consensus I am seeing all around, like, it's rating is incredibly high on imdb. I don't plan on watching it in theaters as I don't support the trend, no matter how good or bad it is. I don't support this as animation is a medium that shouldn't be in the shadow of live actions and seen as "for kids". So it's very disappointing and sad to me that HTTYD is getting the same treatment. (don't look at you the same way anymore, dreamworks!). I am cusious, do you think most people around you were completely in love with it? as i have not watched it, I don't want to spit on the movie itself or actors or whatever, but damn am I angry at the execs!

Hello anon! You're not annoying at all I love to ramble :3

Agree. HTTYD falling into this trend is heartbreaking and infuriating tbh... Like HELL I know it's to promote the theme parks but FUCK, 15 years waiting for them just so they can do it with a REMAKE is baffling. Just do the parks and be done with it cause at least they have more soul than THIS....

So ok I know this sounds depressing, but I don't trust reviewers or imdb lol fuck that. Like sure the movie is fine as an adaptation cause it did what it was supposed to do. Anyone will tell you that. But that's all that is it: A mediocre retelling with less substance, visual storytelling and bad dialogue. You can say is a fine adaptation. Like in terms of things that they do, yeah it's the same as the animated version but with a few additions (none of which I like tbh except Snotlout lol), period. You COULD say some visuals are cool? but I wholeheartedly disagree... Most of the scenes were weirdly shot and lit, and the composition, volume, framing, ALL those things were so lacking in the movie which is what makes visual storytelling, animation as a medium AND the first HTTYD movie GREAT. As a person who studied animation, multimedia and audiovisual production, those things MATTER, and in ALL these live actions, they're SORELY lacking. Cause they don't care about any of that stuff other than the CGI looking somewhat ok.

The fact is that regardless of if these live action remakes are "good", they're making millions upon millions of dollars. The quality is the last thing they care about and it shows. And I wouldn't trust some ppl that glaze over the live action just because "they are just happy to have new httyd content" cause.... idk stand up??? they have turned the essence of this franchise into a cynical money making machine because they wanted the bank Disney is making and you're ok with this??? I personally don't care if it's "new httyd content we haven't had in years", like if it's BAD I don't want it. Period. I wanted to see the movie just cause I wanted to know what it changed and what new fans to the franchise (sadly with THIS as an introduction) would be dealing with.? idk SORRY if that sounds pretentious or gatekeepy? but it BREAKS my heart that ppl are being exposed to THIS version of this story and not the ACTUAL GOOD ONE. And THAT will NEVER end to piss me off... I want to have honest and nuanced discussions about this phenomenon that is the plague of these godawful remakes.

I have talked here about how I don't care that it was Dean who made it btw. and I firmly stand by that. If you value your work as an animator, you should stand up for it and be agsint these remakes in the first place. Dean saying "if you prefer the original to this one I don't blame you" seems like such a lackluster and spineless thing to do imo. I think it's painfully obvious that even if Dean wasn't part of it, it would've still been just as bad but AT LEAST his credibility would be intact, I would've respected him more if he said he doesn't wanna be a part of it. And no HTTYD being "his baby" doesn't matter cause 1. CHRIS SANDERS IS THE ONE THAT MADE HTTYD GREAT! and 2. he already ruined his "baby" with httyd3 so........

Now I didn't expected nor wanted it to be great, cause tbh I don't want MORE remakes just cause this one did "good". I'm against the concept of live action remakes as a concept and I hope they all die SOON cause I'm TIRED.

I went to see with my friends who, not surprisingly, thought it was just fine, like the word "fine" is the problem to me, (They also didn't like how Astrid was handled at ALL and that they skipped certain scenes)

I think ppl are conditioned to give it a "good review" cause, unless you're deep in the fandom or a movies critic that goes to movies to actively analyze it, ppl WILL say it's was cute. Cause it WAS, but not because of its own merit, it's because it's the same (amazing) story, and that in itself is "cool". I've seen plenty of ppl say it was good like amazing ohmy god my heart i love httyd! but like? yeah? I was excited to BE around HTTYD stuff, I still am. But that has nothing to do with genuine love for this movie. Most of it is nostalgia and ppl being happy to have the fandom revived. It's the ATMOSPHERE that ppl love and tbh me too. The atmosphere of love for this franchise and the fandom being active is GREAT. I love being back in the fandom and revisiting, but yeah that has nothing to do with this movie. So ppl being happy? I guess it's ok but sadly the new Live action is getting a lot of the credit....

But hey! At least ppl are more aware that the theme parks have more soul in them so I wanna give MORE credit to those. I personally won't let this movie affect my love for this franchise cause it's been 15 years and TONS AND TONS of content they CAN'T take away from me lol they CANNOT erase anything for me. I will NEVER care about the live actions remakes, think they're relevant to the story or count them as canon cause they're not (except if they completely change the third movie then maybe I would consider it LMFAOOo cause yes please rewrite that godawful thing from scratch and do a completely whole other thing and if you manage to pull that off MAYBE I will care but even THAT will piss me off lmfaoooo)

#httyd #httyd live action #httyd live action criticism #how to train your dragon #httyd talk #anon #thanks for asking #dean deblois

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ambiguous-avery · 2 months ago

Text

Moon Without Stars, Part 4

Sam Winchester x fem!Reader/You | WC: 3612

Summary: Hunters – the people who lived fast and lawless – had one rule they all abided by. No attachments. And in a world where your first touch with your soulmate would leave a brand behind, No Touching was an unspoken second rule. Not everyone followed that, but you did. Or you tried to. The last thing you needed was for fate to be cruel and bind you to someone. Least of all someone like Sam Winchester.

Tags/Warnings: Soulmate AU, sad Sam (that’s a warning all of its own), idiots fighting fate, strangers to enemies to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, angst, no use of Y/N, no beta we die like men

A/N: Alright, I think I've tortured you guys enough. For now. Let's get into the meat of this :D Moon Without Stars Masterlist

You hadn’t planned on running into the Winchesters again. Not in this backwoods Colorado town. Not with your hands covered in blood and oil. And certainly not while nursing three fractured ribs, what felt suspiciously like a punctured lung, and in worse tatters than a dog’s well-loved chew toy. If the lung collapsed, then it might’ve been the last thing you needed to spell your end.

You wouldn’t have called it a werewolf den. Not exactly. It was more like a werewolf summer camp for the homicidally furry. But semantics didn’t really matter when your shoulder was bleeding through the scraps that could hardly be considered a jacket anymore and your knife hand was trembling from the effort of staying upright. The abandoned factory outside of Burlington had seemed like the perfect place to corner the pack.

Until it wasn’t.

“I’ve got this,” you hissed through gritted teeth, pressing your back against some rusted piece of machinery. The thin air of Colorado wasn’t great to begin with, and it was even worse when you could only take shallow breaths without pain.

That's when you heard it – the familiar rumble of an engine that had no business being in these mountains. The creak of car doors that shouldn't exist in your world anymore. Footsteps. Two sets. Brothers.

"Son of a bitch," you whispered, the words fogging in the cold Colorado air. Your mark grew warm. Tingly. Hopeful.

It had been forty-six days since you last saw Dean or… him. Forty-six days of listening very closely to your gut just so you could do the exact opposite of what it told you to do. Forty-six days of staying hyper vigilant to your soulmate mark and pulling a U-turn any moment it grew even slightly warmer. Forty-six days of not even daring to think his name lest the thought of him alone were to summon him from the ether. Forty-six exhausting days of delaying the inevitable. And for what? He found you anyway.

Dean Winchester’s voice carried through the empty hallways first.

“Well, look what we have here. Guess there’s only so long you can run.” Your vision blurred at the edges as you turned to face them. Sam stood a few feet behind his brother, his expression shifting from surprise to concern when he spotted the state of your jacket. Ripped in various places with dark stains spreading across it.

“I don’t need your help,” you said, but the words lacked conviction as your knees shuddered, threatening to buckle beneath the weight of your own ego.

“Yeah, you’re doing great,” Dean’s voice dripped with sarcasm, though you were sure you could sense some genuine worry buried underneath it. “How many are there?”

“Five. Maybe six.” You swallowed hard, tasting iron. “I took down two before–”

A howl echoed through the facility, bouncing off the metal walls and sending a chill down your spine. Or was that the blood loss?

“Before you got your ass handed to you,” Dean finished, already cocking his gun. “Plan B it is.” You would’ve scoffed if you didn’t think you’d pass out from it. Sam stepped forward, his expression hardening as he took in your wounds.

“You need medical attention. Now.”

“I need to finish the job,” you countered stubbornly, fingers tightening around your knife. The blade trembled in your grip.

Another howl. Closer this time. Quickly followed by the scrape of claws against metal. The werewolves were circling back, drawn by the scent of fresh blood. Your blood.

“We’ll finish it,” Sam said, and his voice left absolutely no room for argument. “Dean–”

“Yeah, I got it.” Dean moved to position himself between you and the approaching threat, silver bullets loaded and ready. “You get her out of here.”

You wanted to protest. To prove you could still fight. But when Sam ducked down and slung your arm over his shoulders, his arm wrapping around your waist to support your weight, your body betrayed you. The adrenaline that had kept you upright finally ebbed, and your knees gave away. The silver knife clattered to the ground as you sagged against Sam’s solid frame.

“I’ve got you. Don’t worry,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

“I can walk,” you insisted, even as your legs felt boneless beneath you.

“Sure you can,” Sam’s voice was gentle but firm as he guided you toward the exit. “Just like Dean can cook without a microwave.”

Despite yourself, a weak laugh escaped your lips, followed immediately by a wince as your ribs protested the movement. Sam’s arm tightened around you, his warmth seeping through your blood-soaked clothes. Then, in a surprisingly smooth motion you didn’t expect from someone as large as him, he swept his other arm beneath your knees, scooping you up without jostling you too much. You wanted to hate how easily he lifted you. You wanted to despise how familiar his scent already was to you despite the time apart. Gunpowder and old books and something else distinctly Sam.

If you weren’t so focused on staying alert to your surroundings, you might’ve taken solace in the way your mark practically vibrated beneath your sleeve. The way it urged you to cling to Sam and nuzzle your face in his shoulder. But thankfully, your innate instinct to survive was stronger than your natural pull to your supposed soulmate. Still... there was an annoying buzzing in the back of your mind, like when a fly was in the room but you couldn’t quite place where exactly it was. You instead chose to focus on the spreading numbness in your extremities and the concerning wetness soaking through your shirt.

The sound of gunfire erupted behind you followed by a sickening whine and whimper. The pack had found Dean. It suddenly hit you just how close you had been to becoming dog food. Each shot echoed through the facility, bouncing off the walls like thunder, but Sam never broke stride, his attention focused entirely on getting you to safety.

“He’ll be fine,” Sam said, answering the question you hadn’t asked. “This isn’t our first werewolf rodeo.”

“Wasn’t mine either,” you muttered, the words slurring slightly as darkness crept into the edges of your vision.

The cold mountain air hit your face as Sam carried you outside. You clung to him. You weren’t sure when you had wrapped your other arm around his neck, but he was warm. And comfortable. And it would be so easy to fall asleep in his arms like this.

“Stay with me,” Sam commanded, his voice cutting through the growing fog in your mind. The Impala sat waiting, its black surface gleaming under the moonlight like a friend you never wanted to see again. He managed to open the back door one-handed, his movements careful as he settled you across the leather bench.

“Dean–” you started, suddenly worried about leaving the eldest Winchester alone.

“Will be right behind us,” Sam finished, shrugging off his jacket and pressing it firmly against your shoulder. You hissed at the pressure. “Sorry, but we need to stop the bleeding.” There was a snarky comeback somewhere in your brain, but it felt out of reach. Unformed. Your eyes met Sam’s and for a moment, the forty-six days of separation collapsed into nothing. The same hazel eyes. The same hands. The same soft expression. Like he was looking at you like you were someone. You were no one.

“You shouldn’t have tried to take them alone,” he said, his voice low. His tone was tender despite the admonishment.

“Thought I would only have two or three of them. Didn’t exactly plan for a reunion,” you managed, teeth chattering as you vaguely recognized the signs of shock setting in. “Thought I could handle it.”

“You’re only human.” There was an edge to his words.

“I can handle this. Just drop me at the nearest hospital.” Sam looked down at you, concern etched across his face.

“And tell them what? That you got mauled by a pack of werewolves?”

The passenger door slammed open, and Dean dove in, breathless and splattered with blood.

“Go, go, go!” he shouted, shoving the Impala’s keys into the ignition. Sam was instantly behind the wheel, the Impala rumbling to life. Its wheels spun against gravel as Sam accelerated down the mountain road, taking curves too fast for comfort. Each bump sent fresh waves of pain through your body, but you bit down on the collar of your jacket to keep quiet.

“All of them down?” Sam asked, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror.

“Yeah,” Dean replied, bracing an arm against the bench and twisting to look at you. “Hey, stay awake back there. No checking out on us.”

You hadn’t realized your eyes had closed until Dean’s voice jarred you back into awareness. The interior of the car swam in and out of focus, the leather and chrome completely alien to you.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice barely audible over the engine.

“The bunker,” Sam answered without hesitation.

“No. Just drop me at a motel. I’ll be fine.”

“Like hell you will,” Dean scoffed. He sounded like he was underwater. “You’ve got enough blood loss to make a vampire jealous and who knows what kind of internal injuries. You’re coming with us.”

You wanted to argue. To insist on your independence. To maintain the distance you had worked so hard to keep. But the black spots dancing across your vision made a compelling counterargument. The Impala’s grumble beneath you felt like a lullaby, dragging you towards unconsciousness.

“Hey.” Sam’s voice was sharp. “Stay with us. Talk to us. Talk to me.”

“About what?” you mumbled, your hand finding his jacket he had set on top of you.

“Anything. How you’ve been. What you’ve been hunting.” A pause. “Why you left again.”

The last sentence hung in the air between you, heavier than all the rest. Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He leaned forward, rummaging through the first aid kit under the seat, giving you and Sam a semblance of privacy despite the confined space. You managed to find the rearview mirror, your eyes meeting Sam’s. Even though your haze of pain, you could see the hurt there, barely concealed beneath his professional concern.

“It scarred,” you said finally, fingers touching your cheek.

“What?”

“Said it would heal clean. But it scarred.” Each word was a struggle against the tightness in your chest. The darkness pressing in on all sides like a comforting hug. Sam took a sharp turn, and you bit back a groan.

“Sorry.” And you weren’t sure if the apology was for the way he took the turn, your cheek, or something else.

The curving mountain road eventually gave way to flatlands, and you felt yourself slipping despite your best efforts. Sam’s voice sounded urgent. Afraid. Why was he afraid? You were just going to nap. Just a little one. His jacket was warm. It smelled like him. You liked how he smelled.

You woke to unfamiliar ceiling tiles and the antiseptic smell of medical supplies.

Panic seized you for a moment as your brain fought to catch up, memories fragmented and hazy in your mind. Everything felt weighed down, limbs heavy against soft sheets. There was no rhythmic beeping of machines like you would’ve expected from a hospital. And there wasn’t an odd spring digging into your back or tacky wallpaper which meant you weren’t in a motel room either.

You blinked slowly, trying to piece together where in the world you were. You vaguely remembered Sam saying something about a bunker, so that was the logical conclusion. Whatever the bunker was.

You groaned softly as you moved to sit up, but a sharp, stabbing pain across your torso forced you back against the pillow with a low hiss. Your hand instinctively went to your shoulder, finding it heavily bandaged. On top of that, you were dressed in a t-shirt that definitely wasn’t yours. It hung loosely on your frame, the soft cotton smelling faintly of laundry detergent and something else. Something Winchester-esque.

“Easy there,” a voice said. You turned to look, blood rushing in your ears. And there he was.

Sam. Seated in a plain wooden chair a few feet away, elbows on his knees, book closed in his hands. His hair was messy, and his eyes were dark with exhaustion. His entire posture was wired tight, and you could see the way he held his tension in his shoulders. But when your eyes met his, you swore you could see the corner of his mouth lift. Just a bit. Something shaky and relieved. And his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.

“You’re okay,” he said, and you weren’t entirely sure if he was saying that more for your benefit or for his.

The chair creaked beneath his weight as he straightened up, and he blinked the tiredness from his eyes, though it did nothing to alleviate the darkness beneath them.

“How long?” you asked, your voice raspy from disuse. Your throat was killing you.

“Almost two days. Cas – an angel friend of ours – took care of the worst of it, but he was in the middle of something and couldn’t get it all. Your lung collapsed once we crossed over into Kansas.” Sam stood up and approached the bed. Slowly, as if he were approaching a scared animal that might bite him.

You watched him quietly as he reached for a glass of water that was set next to bottles of Advil and Tylenol. He picked it up and held it out for you. Your mark hummed at his closeness, and you cursed it in your head. You had almost forgotten about it. But your dry throat was more insistent, and you took the glass from him, careful to keep your fingers from brushing against his. He then uncapped both pill bottles, dumped out two pills from each of them, and offered you them as well.

“Advil and Tylenol. Together they’re basically Vicodin,” he said. You eyed the pills in his hand warily.

It wasn’t that you suspected that they were anything beyond what he was saying, but rather that there was no feasible way you could grab them without touching him. You transferred the glass of water to your left hand and held your right one out, palm up. Sam wordlessly adjusted and dropped the pills into your outstretched hand, keeping his fingertips a healthy distance away from your skin.

“Thank you,” you said softly, popping all four pills into your mouth and sipping at your water. God, you didn’t think you had ever enjoyed a drink of water this much. It was cool and refreshing and soothed your parched throat. You felt just a little more human as you downed the entire glass in one go.

“How are you feeling?” he asked after a beat of silence. You moved to set the glass down but winced as the bandages at your shoulder pulled at the tender skin. Sam immediately reached out and took the glass for you, setting it down on the bedside table in your stead. “Careful. You don’t want to move too much. Got about thirty stitches holding you together.”

You froze. Stitches. Your hand tentatively went to the bandage over your shoulder, fingers gingerly tracing the length of it beneath the oversized shirt. Sam’s shirt, your mark purred. You could almost picture it melting against the fabric, as though it were a cat casually lounging in a patch of sun. You chewed on your cheek, eyes never leaving Sam’s as you processed his words.

You were sure that the Winchesters didn’t have an on-call doctor who could’ve done the stitches. Which meant that either Sam or Dean had taken on the task of putting you back together. And you had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t the older Winchester who had patched you up. Not with the way Sam was hovering. Not with the way his eyes kept flicking to where your bandages were. Like he was assessing his own handiwork.

Your gaze darted to his hands, taking in the long fingers and the careful way he held them at his sides. You imagined those same hands methodically working, those fingers gently moving across your skin as he pulled the needle. The thought should’ve been strictly clinical, but there was something strangely intimate about knowing that his hands had been on you while you were unconscious. You shoved the thought away before your mark could latch onto it and dig its heels in.

“Thirty stitches, huh? Guess I really made a mess of myself,” you said. You had been aiming for something light-hearted. Something to ease the tight feeling that was beginning to constrict around your heart. But you’re pretty sure your attempt landed flat because Sam only replied with a quiet,

“Something like that.” He turned, and for a fleeting – disappointing – second, you thought he might leave. But he just returned to his chair, and you didn’t miss his soft sigh as he sat down. Surely the chair couldn’t have been comfortable. Did he not want to sit on the bed with you? And suddenly the content cat that was your mark was clawing at you. You mentally batted it away.

The silence between you two stretched. Uncomfortable and heavy. You had never been good at being in someone else’s debt. Even more so that it was his. You wet your lips.

“I should get going,” you said, though every fiber of your being screamed in protest at the thought of actually getting up. “I’ve imposed enough.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up, his expression of concern quickly twisting into disbelief.

“Imposed? You’ve got four deep lacerations across your shoulder, side, and back. You’re not going anywhere.” His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. “Not until those wounds are healed enough that you won’t tear them open the minute you try to handle a weapon.” You glared at him, hating the vulnerability. Hating that he was right.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Winchester.”

“No,” he agreed, “you need a doctor, but since you’re a stubborn hunter, you get me instead.”

He stood to his full height, towering over the bed and forcing you to look up at him. You wanted to argue. To insist that you were fine. That you had survived worse on your own. But the truth was, you hadn’t. This was bad, even by your skewed standards.

“Three days,” you relented. Sam shook his head.

“One week. Minimum. Then we’ll see.” And his tone made it clear that it wasn’t a negotiation but a matter of fact. You frowned at him, not appreciating being told what to do.

“You can’t keep me here.” You shifted a bit, testing the limits of your pain. It bit back.

“I’m not trying to keep you,” Sam said. “I’m just tired of watching you run like someone’s chasing you.” You looked away, his words landing too close for comfort. And just like that – there it was. A crack.

“What, you’re not gonna chase after your soulmate? I thought that’s what people who believe in them were supposed to do. You know, fate and fairy tales and all?” You covered that vulnerability with your usual armor. A scoff. A shake of your head. You rolled your eyes at him.

“No. I’m standing still. Hoping that maybe you’ll stop running long enough to see that I never needed to chase.”

You hated him. Or at least... you wanted to hate him. Hate how close to the mark he was able to hit. He didn’t know you. You didn’t know him. So how in the world could he say the exact right thing to make your heart clench? How could he sound so genuine? So patient? He had no right to be patient with you. You were stubborn, and you knew it. Difficult to handle on a good day. And being wounded and stuck in a bed did not constitute a good day. You scowled at him, but something about it felt off. Like the edge you usually wielded like a weapon had gone dull.

“You sure are cocky about that.”

He smiled, and it caught you off guard. There was something almost boyish about it, and it softened the sharp edges of his face. Made him seem less imposing, despite his height. Made him look handsome, like he was always meant to wear a smile like that.

"Not cocky. Just patient."

"That's a dangerous quality to have around me," you said, a hint of warning in your voice. "Patience wears thin."

"We'll see,” he said, and you didn’t like the note of hope in his voice. He took a couple steps towards you again, and for a brief moment, you thought he might reach out and touch you. Lift your chin to meet his gaze the same way all the self-assured protagonists in movies did to the love interest. The way people did when they were sure they were going to break the other one. But he didn’t. Instead, he reached for the empty glass at the bedside table. Then, he turned to leave, stopping briefly in the doorway. He didn’t look at you when he spoke again.

“You know... I’ve never seen anyone run from something they didn’t believe in.”

And his words settled into your bones like dust after an explosion. Soft. Inevitable.

Sam left without waiting for a response.

And you? You didn’t move. Didn’t dare to breathe. Just stared at the spot where he had been standing. Like maybe, just maybe, if you held still long enough, you could pretend that you weren’t still running.

---

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Part 3 --- Interlude --- Part 5

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peanutbutterandbananasandwichs · 8 months ago

Text

Sam and Dean are always withholding information from and lying to each other, constantly. That’s literally the plot of the show every season.

There are important differences between the types of "lying and withholding information" (I'm going to use the word lying primarily here going forward for simplicity but it is referring to several different types of behaviours and is not being used intrinsically as a value judgement) Dean vs Sam does, and these are fundamentally tied to their positions within their abuse dynamic (and more broadly within their roles within the larger Winchester family abuse dynamic).

Lies abusers tell, and their motivations for doing so are distinct from the types of lies told by abuse victims in an effort to manage their situation and avoid conflict (within the abuse dynamic this isn't to say that abuse victims cannot lie more generally).

Dean does sometimes tell some of the same types of defensive "lies" as abuse victims, and this shouldn't be surprising as Dean is a victim of childhood abuse. ("I'm fine" for instance, something they both frequently say when they clearly are not, and something that whilst not exactly healthy for themselves is a defence mechanism and not - generally speaking - fundamentally a harmful action to the other).

The clearest distinction between Dean's abusive lying and Sam's defensive lying: Dean lies and withholds information about Sam from Sam. Sam withholds information primarily about himself from Dean.

Dean lying to Sam about Sam or things that have happened to him, or things that Dean has done to him is a frequent and repeated pattern. Instances include, but are not limited to: lying about Sam's resurrection in "All Hell Breaks Loose", not telling Sam when he finds out about Azazel feeding Sam the demon blood as a child ("Metamorphosis"), lying about Sam having been soulless and of course the big one, lying for months on end about the Gadreel possession, both in order to obtain the 'yes' needed for possession in the first place and then in for the subsequent time during which Sam was unknowingly possessed. Dean's lies allow him to maintain a position of power and control over Sam and Sam's body.

By contrast when Sam withholds information about himself he's usually seeking to maintain control over his own self, his body, his personhood, and his agency. And to avoid negative reactions from Dean that often lead to him being hit, shouted at, or otherwise punished.

The most stark example of this contrast for me is the situation regarding the demon blood administered by Azazel.

Sam finds out about this in "All Hell Breaks Loose", he chooses not to tell Dean, this is well within Sam's rights, this is an issue that affects Sam and Sam's body and nobody else, he is under absolutely no obligation to tell Dean and he has every reason to believe, given Dean's reaction to previous examples of Sam's "otherness" that telling Dean would not have elicited a positive or supportive response.

Dean finds out about the demon blood in "In the Beginning", he proceeds to keep this from Sam and it is only brought up because Sam accidentally reveals that he already knew, its pretty clear that Dean had no immediate intention of telling Sam himself. This was not Dean's right, he has no right whatsoever to withhold information about Sam and Sam's body from him.

#just reposting this bit (with some edits) from part of a broader old meta #re post on the dash about bad deangirl takes on Sam vs Dean and “lying to eachother”#sam winchester #not putting this in the dean tag lol #spn #would i lie #I'd do it again #Winchester family dynamics #i mean this is like basic fundamentals but ya know it somehow still needs saying

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according2thelore · 9 months ago

Note

Do you have any spn omegaverse fic recs?

oh boy, do i!

this is a pretty exhaustive list of omegaverse, with varied designations and (less varied) ratings. this is in no particular order (and not a list of every fic i've ever read and enjoyed), either, just some fics i've collected over the years.

please note that some of these are underage (as they are teenchester fics and the like), and some deal with sensitive topics so please be diligent about checking the notes/tags!

samdean:

alpha4alpha Series by HandsAcrossTheSea & trashhearts67

[RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & A!Sam] The most forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, and Dean wants a taste of Sam. Two alphas shouldn't want each other. But when has Dean ever had any use for what should be?

The Bite of Knowledge by theproblematique [rec note: THEE omegaverse fic imo]

[RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Dean & A!Sam] Omegas can tell when alphas are attracted to them. It's a survival mechanism. After years of buildup, Dean finally realizes that Sam is attracted to him. It's a shitshow.

Only Real When I'm With You by WhiskyBoys

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Dean & A!Sam At sixteen Dean was exceptionally pretty. Even for an omega. Fair hair, pale skin, big green eyes and wholesome freckles. And he was a virgin. The training officers, always smirking, said that was a good thing. Told him that was why his pathetic omega life was valuable enough to pay off all his father’s debts.

Gunpowder & Honeysuckle by hereforsammy [private}

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, A!Dean & O!Sam One would think it would be enough; All of those bits and pieces that made up the large jigsaw puzzle of their lives, smashed in the back of an old black car tearing down highways in backwater towns, and nights spent in stale motel rooms with cigarette holes burned into every surface, to let Dean know the glaringly obvious thing he had been both running to, and avoiding, was staring him in the face all along. Heated neon in the pitch black sky over shabby dives of no name towns, that painted themselves on the backs of your eyelids even when you blinked. His baby boy smelled sweet.

Three Weeks Too Late (the 'Five Weeks' remix) by rei_c

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Dean swallows at the thought of that: Sam's home, his soon-to-be omega's scent everywhere, on everything. Sam wants to take Dean back to his den. "Okay," he says. "Your place. But not -- it has to be now, Sam. I can't wait much longer." "Yeah," Sam says. "Yeah, it's been five weeks since your birthday." (aka, the one where Dean finally claims his omega.)

The Hottest Days by WevyrDove [rec note: a classic; w this and the bite of knowledge, i think one of my first wincest fics, lol]

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, A!Dean & O!Sam John is away on a hunting trip when Sam experiences his first heat cycle. Dean panics and makes Sam lock himself up in his room in a desperate attempt to keep temptation at bay.

5th Period by alwaysthrowsscissors [rec note: also a fandom classic]

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, A!Dean & O!Sam Without hesitation, Dean dropped to his knees, burying his face in the wet seat of Sam’s jeans, teasing out the cutest little whimper. “Am I- God, am I...” He trembled, voice soft. “Yeah,” Dean groaned, muffled, nuzzling against the rough fabric. His fucking greatest dream came true. Precious, beautiful Sammy; an omega. Dean always knew that whatever Sam presents as doesn't matter; he's going to fuck Sam hard and claim him either way. But, Dean never imagined that all eyes at school would be on his little brother, waiting to see what he will become and who will get to claim him as their mate. Sam goes into his first heat in the middle of class.

Sam's Inner Omega by TammyRenH

RATING: Unrated, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Another spn_kink meme fill (just trying to un-rust my writing skills - such as they are) For the prompt: There are two sides to every Omega; the side that wants to be cuddled and pampered. And the side that wants to be pinned down and fucked roughly like a bitch in heat. Up to you who tops and who bottoms. I’m good with any kinks as long as all aspects of the fic are consensual. Please and thank you!

Taste Every Fruit by thatsakitkat [rec note: aka the lactation fic, a fandom classic fr]

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Dean&A!Sam There's no real words to describe how feeding Sam feels. Dean thinks it might be better than orgasms, but it's a whole different kind of pleasure, one that makes him feel sleepy and proud of himself for being able to take care of his brother this way. Everything feels right in the world, all Dean's problems taken away in the gentle pulls of Sam's mouth.

A Blind Fool's Luck by hellhoundsprey

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean&O!Sam Prompt: sam is an omega. or, he was. before puberty really hits, john puts him on suppressants/has him surgically altered so he doesn’t attract aggressive alphas/is put in less danger/makes their lifestyle easier. sam’s too young to really consent. his feelings of being a “freak” stem from not feeling right in his own body. this is why sam is abnormally large for an omega, this is where a lot of his self loathing stems from. dean didn’t know before and carries guilt for not stopping it. doesn’t know how to make it better, tries anything he can, which in dean’s world is a lot of pretending it didn’t happen out loud. sam gets by until he starts getting closer to 40 and it starts to get to him more than it used to. amara either gives dean THAT gift instead of bringing mary back, or rowena finds out and gives sam the spell to fix what happened to him at his choice. sam doesn’t tell dean about the change, but he can scent it. it’s obvious sam feels more comfortable in his skin again. suddenly sam smells like his dream partner. cue him dealing with that, dunno if he tells him or acts differently or what. basically it comes out that sam has always scented dean that way and then happy parts ensue.

Hymenated - Demon by forlovedones

RATING: E, Warnings: Chose Not to List, O!Dean&A!Sam Demon Dean is loose in the bunker and stalking his Alpha through the halls. Maybe there'd be time to fuck Sam's brains out first, before he bashed them in with the hammer.

Unexpected by fullmoon_nightowl

RATING: M, Warnings: None, A!Dean&O!Sam Sam always wanted children, but he’s been infertile all his life. Two months after Chuck’s defeated, the stick turns blue. Dean’s protective instincts go into overdrive.

It's Yours, My Demon by littlefirefly31

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Prompt: Could I please for fic where Omega Sam found out a couple a days before the last episode that he is pregnant with Dean's child, but now his alpha is a demon and Sam is doesn't know what to do, but the demon!Dean finds out ... (knotting, bottom!Sam, happy ending)?

To Give You What You Want by littlefirefly31

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Prompt: Post 9 season AU where alpha Dean isn't a demon and brothers lives together as mates (alpha and omega). They are happy but both really wants to have a baby and during Sam's a few day heat Dean going to finally breed his omega (knotting, mpreg) Summary: Sam and Dean were content, but they really wanted something more. They wanted a child. So Dean knew he was going to try everything to breed his omega and give them what they wanted.

And nothing else matters by waywardelle

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Dean inexplicably pushes Sam away when their mother returns to their lives. After she leaves, Dean stays away anyway. Sam wants to kill Dean for ignoring the fact that they're fuckin' mated, but the omega in him tells him to be patient. So, he waits. And he misses his Alpha like crazy.

All in the Timing by C_aura

RATING: E, Warnings: Dub-Con, A!Dean & O!Sam Sam hasn’t had a heat in ten years. Dean may not be his mate, but he’s past waiting patiently and decides it’s time to take a more hands-on approach.

Happy Birthday to Me! by WhiskyBoys

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, O!Dean & A!Sam Dean wants to be an omega, and he wants Sam to be the one to turn him. Sam doesn’t stand a chance.

A new Life by KillerOfHope

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, O!Dean & A!Sam Prompt Fill for SPN Kinkmeme: AU for S10E12 - "About a boy" The witch wasn't just deaging adults, she had them turned into Omegas as well, since she preferred the taste of fresh young Omegas. The cake she and Hansel fed their victims was spiked with magically enhanced Alpha sperm to ensure a quick turn. So when Dean showed up at their motelroom, Sam wasn't just faced with a teen version of his brother, but with a newly presented Omega.

and it's you that i want by according2thelore [rec note: i'm not above a self rec, lol!]

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Dean & A!Sam "You know that’s not what I meant.” Mr. Smith says into the phone, and he sounds exhausted. Sam doesn’t turn around, trying to give him as much privacy as possible, even if it’s imagined. Sam throws his whole body weight into his next pull of the handle, feeling the budding sweat from earlier as a full-body wave, pricking at his neck and armpits and forehead. Nothing. The door doesn’t budge. Sam’s trapped. Or: Sam Wesson gets stuck in a supply closet with his boss, who's hiding out to fight with his girlfriend. Sensing the available omega that Sam's been into for months, Sam goes into an early rut.

since you said "spn" and not specifically wincest, i also have a handful of J2 fics here. i don't even think i really ship J2, but while going through these i realized i have...uh...quite a lot lol...

J2:

for a good cause by hellhoundsprey

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Jensen & A!Jared Jensen covers for a teammate in the kissing booth of a local charity event. It’s for a good cause, after all, and only for an hour. What can possibly go wrong?

Neighborhood Love by ashtraythief

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Jensen & A!Jared Jensen might be an omega, but that doesn’t mean he’s just going to say yes to any alpha who comes along. His parents think he has impossible standards, his friends think he’s a grumpy bastard. There’s probably some truth to all of that, but there’s also the fact that Jared, a really cute and really tall alpha just moved in next door and Jensen has a crush. Thankfully, as it turns out, so does Jared.

Perfect Disaster by ashtraythief

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared Jared never banked on the perfect romantic moment of meeting his mate, but having him come into the ER as a patient is ridiculous. Even after Jensen is recovered, life keeps getting in the way of them properly consummating their mating, until Jensen has enough of the interruptions and whisks Jared away for a weekend getaway.

Crazy About You (Two) by ashtraythief

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared One of the many things that attracted Jared to Jensen when they first met was that Jensen was such a laid-back alpha. He never did any of the dumb alpha posturing, wasn’t possessive or jealous. But recently—recently things had taken a turn. And Jared doesn’t mind the frequent and quite frankly amazing sex they’re having, but when Jensen becomes possessive, quite literally refuses to let him leave the bed, Jared realizes that something’s different. And he does not like it—until he figures out why Jensen’s so possessive all of a sudden.

Better Late Than Never (I Guess) by littlefirefly31

RATING: Not Rated, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared Prompt: Could I ask for fic where alpha Jensen taking care of Jared during his heat (knotting, marathon sex), please? Summary: Jensen's lived next to Jared for five years and he has no idea how to tell the omega he loves him.

Patience Is Not a Virtue by fullmoon_nightowl

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, A!Jensen & O!Jared J1 and J2 recently got mated. J1 is older and wanted to wait for J2's first heat to have sex. J2 doesn't really appreciate it because he's been crushing hard on J2. So while J1 tries to make their first time gentle and sweet, J2 just wants to get his dick already.

Taste Like Sugar by littlefirefly31

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared Prompt: Speaking of series, could you do one where omega!jared is a very tiny wolf and alpha!Jensen, who's large for a wolf, if very protective over him?

Mistaken Identity by littlefirefly31

RATING: Not Rated, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared Prompt: Jared is an unmated omega because of his size most alphas find him intimidating. Or confuse him for a beta. Of course this makes him have insecurities so he starts hiding his omega status. He meets Jensen and of course Jensen is all over him and wants to mate him but Jared thinks he's playing because he's been hurt in the past before. Sorry if it's too long. True mating welcome go free with it. I'm always interested how you put your twists. Thank you.

World Goes 'Round by Misunderstanding by queerly_it_is [rec note: a fandom classic]

RATING: E, Warning: Underage, O!Jensen & A!Jared Jensen and Jared love each other, but neither of them knows that. Jensen goes into heat and seeks out Jared, who gives in to what’s he’s ashamed of wanting. Jared calls Jensen’s parents who make a deal with Jared that they don’t see fit to inform Jensen of, and matters only get worse when Jensen finds out he’s pregnant and runs away from home to keep his baby.

thanks for this ask, anon! i hope you enjoy reading through these! :)

-lizzy

#ask box #lizzy answers #fic rec #fic recs #fic rec list #omegaverse

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