#bonnie x dean

[a1ecmcdowell]

bonnie!reader & clyde!dean - the name of the game, baby!

includes, crime :( but for the good of the people! the sexual tension is high but nothing ever gets done ab it sorry for the edging pt 2 soon tho

★ ˚⋆

times were tough these days. dean hadn't known a moment of peace from the very moment he decided that hunting wasn't doing shit for sustaining him, and, well... when he met you.

he'd made up his mind already that hunting was a deadend for him. as much as it killed him to think, it was. how could you keep up a job that didn't pay you, and expect to stay afloat? he wasn't.

it started with dining and dashing when he could, scrounging together the scraps of change and loose bills in his pockets for better things than something like a meal that he had to have or he'd die. putting money directly into corporate pockets when he'd then be out of a bed for the night was not something that he ever wanted to do.

until he met you. by chance, and by the threads of fate, you wound yourself around his heart and never let go.

he was finishing up the handful of fries on his plate, eyes drifting around the room as the waitresses moved to-and-fro. they hadn't stopped by him in a while, so he figured that he was either safe, or about to get approached and interrogated about another round of beer.

he'd take one, sure, but it'd be added to a tab he wasn't going to pay, so it was in their best interest to keep their noses out of his business.

one of the women catches his eye anyways, and she's making her way over with a noticeable sway of her hips and a swish to her long blonde hair, when-

the bell over the entrance door rings as the glass bursts open. in stumbles you, buttoning up the white blouse you wore without even looking up from it, loose and disheveled hair swaying in the burst of air your entrance caused.

you were beautiful, even in your mess, and even when your mouth opened to beg for forgiveness to a man behind the counter. "sorry! my car is shit, it wouldn't start, and-"

"louise has been covering your ass for thirty extra minutes," the man interrupts, his face stoic and unbreakable. "unpaid. don't apologize to me on your lack of punctuality, apologize to louise."

dean watches the whole exchange from his red-cushioned booth by the window, each second making his eyes narrow further. great. now he was getting a heart about stealing from this joint, just because of the way he now knew you girls were treated here. probably would have to cover his tab yourselves.

he sighs. they can't all be winners.

you're making your way over to him, and at first, with his fry smothered in a slurry of ketchup, he thinks you must be the prettiest girl he's ever seen, and here he is, shoveling down fries like a starved man.

fry drops back onto the plate. the waitress who'd been on her way over to dean is halted by your worried little mouth running all over again. "louise-"

"fuck him. i don't mind a second of it." louise pats your forearm with her hand. "it's not even been busy. he's just a dick. this one's my last."

her free hand lifts to gesture at dean, and he again feels a flush of awareness when louise turns to him, and then follows you. your eyes nearly freeze him on the spot. big and bright. christ.

"no, it's okay, i've got him," you say, and the smile you give to him and then to her does freeze him, ice cold and solid in this shoddy little booth. "you just head on home, alright?"

dean at least tries to look like he hadn't been eavesdropping. drops his head again, picks up that discarded fry from his plate.

"hi, sorry about that," you say around a frazzled sigh when you approach his table, and he can't help but bristle at how many apologies he's heard you utter in the last five minutes, all of them unnecessary. "anything i can getcha?"

he actually cannot stop looking at you. you missed a button three down from your collar, the shirt a bit crooked because of the slip. your nimble hands were in the process of tying your hair up and out of your face, flyaways dancing in the fluorescents of the diner like strands of glitter.

no, he wasn't planning on getting anything else. had cemented that idea the moment he decided he couldn't just steal from this place.

but the thought of asking for the check after only getting a few moments with you... wasn't going to fly for him.

dean lifts the empty glass bottle from the edge of his table. "just another one of these, sugar."

your lips curl something wicked, and he doesn't know why, but he knows that he feels like a teenage boy again, with the way his heart flutters at the sight. "that it?"

"yeah, that's it," and you really are a little minx, not as innocent as the act you give to your boss and your coworkers, because he can almost see the fire brewing behind your eyes, "why, you got somethin' else you wanna give me?"

that usually gets him a flush, bright pink warmth on the faces of the waitresses he says it too. you, though, only seem to brighten at the question. fire stoked. "a piece of my mind, maybe."

"alright, so sit that pretty ass down and give it to me."

you seem taken aback by it for a second, your entire face warming to such a pretty pink. your eyes flit back to the kitchen, and then to the open space in the booth across from him, and slowly, you sink down into it.

"hit me, sugar," dean says, leaning back against the ruby red cushions, "give me a little piece of that mind."

"you were gonna steal, weren't you?" you say, so fast and quick that he's taken aback this time. "when lou was leavin'. you were bankin' on her back being turned."

dean resists the urge to whistle under his breath. what an odd little talent that is, catching crimes before they happen. "nah."

"'nah'," you mimic, and his eyebrows shoot up on his forehead, "i know your type. thinkin' you're some kind of robin hood, skippin' the dollar on big brother."

"i'm not going to, sugar," he insists, more firmly this time, feeling a little on edge by your blasé attitude. he'd expect someone so accurate in their assessments to already have him by the ear, leading him into the hands of the guys with cuffs. "can't make you pay for food you didn't eat, can i?"

"i can afford a beer and a plate of fries, babe," you shoot right back at him, a sickly sweet smile on those pretty pink lips of yours. "i can't afford to sit here and waste my time cracking jokes with a joke."

dean does whistle this time, a scoff of laughter falling from his mouth. "y'think i'm a joke, huh?"

"i think anyone who claims they're doing things to damn the man is." your arms fold over your chest, the blouse bunching up beneath your breasts and pushing them up just enough-- "hey. eyes up here." fuck. "that's exactly what i'm sayin'. all damn the man but you're still a tool."

"that mean you wanna use me?"

this little back and forth was the most fun dean had had in weeks. months, even, if he discredited the cheap nights with easy girls in dirty motel rooms.

"no," you stumble the words out, spluttering them out like they burn your tongue. "i don't even know your name."

"dean."

your eyes linger on his for a few moments longer, like you're trying to assess if this is another one of his lies. you must like what you see reflected back, though, because you smile, slow and languid. "dean."

the silence that follows is short-lived and buzzing. then, your lips part again. "were you really going to dine and dash?" a test. you don't sound mad, or like you're interested in turning him in at all.

his shoulders lift in a slight shrug. "that's just the name of the game, baby." he leans forward with his elbows resting on the rickety table between the two of you. "damn the man, right?"

one second passes, then two, and then you're snatching a fry from the plate in between you, dipping it in the pool of ketchup on the edge of his plate. "there are much more fun ways to damn the man."

notes, WEEEEEE i was gonna do fallen angel!dean first but something ab these two were STUCK in my head hope u dont mind

tags, @jasvtsc @depressionbarbie2023 @figthoughts @titsout4nicholas

(if u wanna be added to this btw / u are supposed to be and i keep forgetting pls know it's not a vendetta i am just a silly lil lady who doesn't know what she's doing ok)

[eepwtf]

UPCOMING BOTS / BOT DUMP!!

i’m a sucker for the fall season, every and any season CANNOT top the fall season at all. which is why i’m making (some) horror/halloween inspired bots—even if there’s like 70 something days till halloween. along with a few random bots i've done and going to do.

tvdu ☆彡

Kai Parker: 𓏲ּ ghostface au! 𓂃

after you caught his eyes, he had an inexplicable curiosity over you. every step you took, every conversation you had with other people, he was there, watching you from afar. of course, that didn’t sedate his curiosity over you. so, when someone in your orbit ventured a little too close, he took matters into his own hands—quite literally. he gutted the perceived threat, the world around him narrowing into a singular focus: you. to him, it wasn’t just a crime; it was an artistic expression, a violent confession of his feelings woven into a tapestry of blood and chaos. He crafted his work with meticulous care, each stroke of the blade a declaration of his affection. yet, in the heat of his actions, a twist of fate caught him off guard—there you were, witnessing it all. Elena Gilbert: 𓏲ּ halloween costumes 𓂃

caroline's halloween party loomed on the horizon, a spectral deadline that demanded perfection. every cobweb, jack-o'-lantern, and plastic skeleton needed to be meticulously placed. the entire event had to be flawless, a masterpiece of festive horror. you, however, felt a different kind of dread. social gatherings weren't your forte, and the thought of navigating a sea of costumed strangers made your stomach churn. but elena, with her infectious enthusiasm, had other plans. she'd already amassed an army of costumes for you to try on, each one more outrageous than the last. as she twirled before you in a dizzying parade of personas—from sultry vampire to whimsical fairy—her eyes sparkled with anticipation, silently demanding your opinion on each piece of clothing she’d modeled on herself. Elena Gilbert: 𓏲ּ cookies and kisses 𓂃

elena passion for baking was palpable, even if she wasn't a seasoned expert. what truly brought her joy was your presence in the kitchen, your willingness to join her culinary adventures. she cherished those moments when you'd sample her latest creations, those little baking treats she'd present with such enthusiasm. as you took that first bite, elena's eyes would light up, watching intently for your reaction. the moment you'd let out a contented groan of approval, a proud smile would bloom across her face, warming her from within. in those sweet instances, she felt a sense of accomplishment that went beyond the mere act of baking—it was about the connection, the shared experience, and the simple pleasure of making someone she cared for happy through her heartfelt efforts. Bonnie Bennett: 𓏲ּ season of the witch ( witch!user ) 𓂃

bonnie had gone to your place for witchcraft lessons, bringing some herbs you had specifically asked for, and of course, she brought the most important thing she needed for the lessons. herself. she knew that the lessons you were teaching her were more advanced, and that she needed to pay attention but as you began to explain the complex theories and gestures, she found her concentration wavering. your shoulder pressed against hers as you demonstrated a particularly intricate hand movement, the warmth of your body so close to hers, the subtle scent of herbs that clung to your skin, the intensity in your eyes as you spoke of each spell - it all combined to make her head spin.

Damon Salvatore: 𓏲ּ lost in your iris 𓂃

damon tried to fight his feelings for you, but you were his weakness. he sees you completely, and he’d do anything to have you near him. every glance you exchanged pulled him deeper into a world only you inhabited, where his heart raced and his resolve faltered. he yearned to lose himself in those captivating eyes, longing to feel the gentle spark of your existence beside him. Klaus Mikaelson: 𓏲ּ so confusing 𓂃

klaus wrestled with uncertainty, his feelings for you a tangled web of emotions. some days, he was convinced you harbored a deep-seated dislike for him, your every glance and gesture seeming to confirm his fears. other times, he caught himself nurturing a grudging resentment towards you, though he couldn't quite pinpoint its origin. despite all of that, he persistently suggested grabbing drinks. it had become his go-to solution, a way to bridge the gap between you two–or perhaps to blur the lines of your complicated relationship. so, inevitably, you'd find yourselves perched on barstools in some dimly lit establishment, nursing your drinks, surrounded by the hum of stranger's conversations. the atmosphere was always thick with unspoken words and lingering glances. sometimes, you'd manage to fall into an easy rhythm, laughing at shared jokes and swapping stories about your day. in these moments, the confusion would recede, and a genuine connection seemed possible. but more often than not, an awkward tension would creep in. silences stretched too long, laughter felt forced, and both of you would become hyper-aware of every word and gesture. ( this is actually my fav rn!! )

Klaus Mikaelson: 𓏲ּ his muse 𓂃

klaus always found himself getting lost in the dance of his hands across the canvas, transforming the lifeless white expanse into a vibrant masterpiece. the studio was his sanctuary, a world inhabited only by his artistic vision and you—his ethereal muse. in his eyes, you were the embodiment of perfection, and his brush strokes captured your essence without flaw. the art, a mirror of his perception, revealed no imperfections, for in his mind, you were utterly flawless.

spn ⟢

Dean Winchester: ๑ ︵ angels and halloween ( angel!user ) ᵎᵎ

you were an angel, which meant that you had no idea about humans, especially in their tradition of halloween. so when dean catches you staring at the halloween decor, and costumes in a store, he goes out of his way to make this a memorable halloween for the angel. he planned an elaborate evening, starting with pumpkin carving. your first attempt at pumpkin carving was... unique. the face you created had a lopsided grin and mismatched eyes, one comically larger than the other. next came costume selection, where the two of you went to the nearest halloween, a warehouse-sized space filled with endless racks of costumes and accessories. you browsed through countless options: superheroes, movie characters, mythical creatures. dean suggested a sexy devil costume with a mischievous grin, but you firmly declined, not finding the humor in it. ( i think this is my top 2 fav! )

Dean Winchester: ๑ ︵ insatiable ( vamp!user ) ᵎᵎ

dean’s fangs throbbed with an insatiable hunger, a primal urge he struggled to contain. every pulse of blood rushing through nearby veins called to him like a siren's song. the warmth radiating from human bodies sent shockwaves of desire coursing through his undead form. but resistance only seemed to intensify the craving. his heightened senses picked up on every nuance—the slight sheen of sweat on exposed skin, the rhythmic thump of hearts, the tantalizing scent of life itself. through it all, you observed him drinking in his struggle like a fine wine, with a knowing smirk playing at the corners of your mouth. your eyes sparkled with amusement, fully aware of the internal battle raging inside dean. you knew exactly what he craved—what he needed. and yet here you stood, taunting him, daring him to give in to his darkest impulses.

Dean Winchester: ๑ ︵ dark magic ( witch!user ) ᵎᵎ

dean wasn’t that awfully nice when it came down to witches or anything surrounding the supernatural. everything he stood suddenly disappeared when it came to you, logic fled and instinct reigned. your very existence seemed to weave an enchantment around him, bending his iron will as easily as a whisper bends a candle flame. in your orbit, he became a different man—softer, more open, as if you alone held the key to unlocking a hidden part of his soul. but your influence was not without cost. your magic, steeped in shadow, left a trail of upheaval in their wake. chaos bloomed wherever you tread, a dark garden of your own making. ( not sure i might stick with this plot, but am so hhhng im lazy )

Dean Winchester: ๑ ︵ might say somethin stupid ᵎᵎ

after a long, exhausting hunt, dean heads to a nearby bar to unwind. weighed down by the night's events, he orders a drink and surveys the room. his attention is quickly drawn to a stunning individual sitting a few stools away. intrigued, dean moves closer, captivated by their effortless beauty and presence. deciding to engage, he buys them a drink and leans in, confidently flirting with a playful question about their relationship status, hoping to shift the mood and distract himself from the tension of the hunt.

Sam Winchester: ๑ ︵ bloody date ᵎᵎ

it was catastrophic. sam knew, deep in his bones, what you truly were. he might have chastised himself for harboring feelings for you, convinced he was teetering on the edge of insanity as his heart clenched painfully within his chest at the mere thought of your presence. but fuck, you were worth it right? this date, however, shattered any remaining illusions. it was meant to be an intimate affair—small, meaningful, a cherished memory in the making. well, you sure as hell made it memorable for him to ever forget it. there you stood, fangs sunk deep into your helpless victim, crimson rivulets painting the edges of your mouth like some macabre artwork.

slashers ☆彡

Brahms Heelshire: ୭ ∿ i'll be good ∿

you had reluctantly accepted the nanny position, despite the suspiciously high salary. the isolated manor and eccentric heelshire family raised red flags, but desperation silenced your misgivings. nothing, however, could have prepared you for the absurdity of your charge – a porcelain doll named brahms. initially, you played along with the charade, following the strict rules set by the heelshires. but as days turned to weeks, an unsettling truth emerged. the real brahms was no doll, but a grown man, which in hindsight would be something to be freaked out about but for you it was fine, however the fact that the brahms could be a little too clingy was the problem. simple errands became ordeals. attempts to leave the property triggered tantrums, brahms clinging to you not wanting you to leave him.

Patrick Bateman: ୭ ∿ touch starved ∿

patrick never considered himself a touch-starved person. in fact, he often thrived in the artificial perfection of his meticulously curated life. he relished the combination of power suits and high-stakes finance, his existence orchestrated with a calculated precision that left no room for vulnerability. but from the moment you entered his life, everything changed. he found himself drawn to you like a moth to a flame, craving your touch in a way that defied his logical mind. in the upscale restaurants you frequented—places with starched tablecloths, crystal stemware, and prices that made most people wince—patrick's behavior shifted noticeably. while he once sat rigidly across from his dining companions, maintaining a respectable distance, with you he couldn't bear even that small separation. he'd guide you to the plush booth seating, sliding in close enough that your thighs touched beneath the table. as you perused the menu, his arm would find its way around your shoulders, fingers absently tracing patterns on your skin. during the meal, he'd lean in unnecessarily close to murmur observations about the food or other patrons, his breath warm against your ear. as the evenings wore on, patrick found increasingly creative ways to maintain contact. he'd reach across the table to adjust your napkin or brush an imaginary crumb from your cheek. Patrick Bateman: ୭ ∿ feeling bratty? ∿

patrick felt more on edge as time passed, a tightening coil of frustration that wound ever tighter within him. when the tension reached its boiling point, he reacted instinctively, striking out like a stray cat cornered and threatened, hissing and baring its tiny fangs. in that moment of vulnerability, his anger found an outlet in the nearest target—unfortunately, that target was you. deep down, he recognized his own insufferable behavior; he could feel the weight of it pressing down on him. he watched as you scoffed at his provocations or simply ignored his taunts, and each dismissive reaction stoked the flames of his irritation. the more you turned away, the more desperately he sought your attention, despite knowing the fire he was playing with could easily burn him.

misc ⟢

Soldier Boy: 𓂃 ꒰ freak show ꒱

Ben never imagined he'd find himself at the entrance of a peculiar circus, its weathered sign proclaiming "freak show" in faded letters. for weeks, vought's pr team had hounded him relentlessly, insisting that this appearance would be "good for public relations" and "humanize" him in the eyes of the masses. ben had scoffed at first, but their persistence wore him down like water on stone. now, here he was, surrounded by wide-eyed gawkers and the constant buzz of excited whispers. as the show began, ben found himself oddly captivated. each act was more outlandish than the last - contortionists twisting their bodies into impossible shapes, fire-breathers painting the air with flames, and strongmen hefting weights that should have been beyond human capability. but then, as the ringmaster's booming voice announced the next act, the tent fell into a hushed silence. a single spotlight illuminated the center ring, and ben's breath caught in his throat. there you were. the aerialist.

Stiles Stilinski: 𓂃 ꒰ favorite monster ꒱

stiles was well versed when it came down to the supernatural, he read every book, myth, and stories when it came to the supernatural. was well aware of the dangers of ghosts, werewolves, vampires the whole gist, you name it he undoubtedly knows it all. of course, you were a different case, a unique case that even though he knew the dangers about being a vampire he couldn’t for the life of himself get away from you. every late-night conversation and shared secret made it harder for him to keep his distance. as the two of you walked through the forest, discussing everything from pop culture to existentialism, it was at the very instant that your sudden laugh made his heart race. the warmth in your eyes and the way you would brush your hand with his rendered him utterly transfixed. he wondered how it was possible to feel so electrified and safe in the presence of someone who was, by all accounts, a threat. Stiles Stilinski: 𓂃 ꒰ you're ghostface ꒱

stiles didn’t know what to expect when the rumors of a serial killer began circulating in their small town. the gossip, dripping with fear and intrigue, shattered the fragile peace of beacon hills. as he stumbled through the dimly lit alley, the unmistakable glint of a knife illuminated by the flickering light from the nearby streetlamp caught his eye, and as the scene grew clearer, every hope he'd entertained shattered like glass. you, standing over a crumpled figure on the ground, the knife still gleaming in your hand, ghostface mask perched above your head. stiles had known you—i mean, really known you. the fact it was you, who was said killer made his stomach churn. he felt as though the ground had been pulled from beneath him, leaving him suspended in disbelief.

Madison Montgomery: 𓂃 ꒰ bitchy!user ꒱

madison's initial reaction to your caustic demeanor was a blend of irritation and intrigue. it catches her off guard; she's unaccustomed to having her façade challenged so directly. your unwavering stance and refusal to be cowed gnaws at her composure, chipping away at the armor of superiority she's cultivated. yet, beneath her outward indignation, she finds herself grudgingly impressed. your razor-sharp retorts and quick wit present a novel challenge—one that simultaneously infuriates and exhilarates her.

Madison Montgomery: 𓂃 ꒰ tobacco lips ꒱

before her death, madison was already dead inside. numb to the world, she craved to feel—anything. she chased oblivion through a haze of flesh, drugs, and alcohol, desperately seeking to drown the echoes of her past. each indulgence was a futile attempt to erase the memories: her mother's absence, her asshole of a father, the relentless scrutiny of the press, and the string of lovers who had taken pieces of her without leaving anything in return. she had found her way to the nearest bar, her face, heavily caked with makeup, felt like a mask weighing her down. her once-pearly teeth, now tobacco-stained, hid behind a sneer. the dress she'd chosen, meant to turn heads, only succeeded in making her look cheap rather than alluring. she navigated the crowded gathering with a practiced arrogance, projecting an aura of superiority she didn't feel. a fresh cigarette dangled from her lips, the filter stained with lipstick—a silent testament to her desperation. her words flowed freely, empty promises spilling from her mouth to the eager ears of men old enough to know better. then, through the haze of smoke and poor decisions, she saw you. beautiful, poised you—the coven's rising star, their future supreme. you stood surrounded by distinguished men, everything madison's admirers lacked. everything madison herself lacked. shame crashed over madison, as darted out, trying to get away from your sight.

might fix some of these but …. probably not anyway! @eppwtf on c.ai 😛

[aloneatpeace]

Cosmic Chaos

Chapter 22

Earlier On

“Is there is reason why you have this haunted look on your face?” Dean Winchester asks Sheila Bennett, Sam Winchester his younger brother who eyeing the ancient book that Sheila set on the car hood.

“I am sure that you know that wendigos don’t usually bite someone in order to transfer its soul to next victim.”

“Unless it’s felt threatened.” Dean completed looking more puzzled at the words.

“And it just doesn’t bite one but two, and does this ever happened when the two of you went hunting wendigos?”

“How did it know we were coming.?”

 “It wasn’t afraid of us.” Sam speak up making Dean turns to him, the youngest Winchester’s points at now opened book, there a figure of women with a crown on her head on the next page are the manuscripts that related to the figure.

Sheila sighs whispering your name “it knew her presence. Her powers…...she herself should be myth, her raw power could obliterate universe she doesn’t know how much power she holds within her. the chaos magic seems bond with her. and that not just it” she turns the pages pointing at a picture of bird that looks like phoenix with burning fire wings.

“What’s that?” dean ask leaning down towards the book to take a good look with squinted eye scanning the figure.

“I have no idea; would you believe me if I say when I was looking to her magic something akin a shooting star come right into my ritual and chaos magic and whatever this is started repel each other until its started co exit right when she came in.”

Dean exhales “I think I would.” Dean cross his arms “How does this even a problem though. If the power chooses her, a power that something beyond our sense, it might have reason, right?”

“If a wendigo could sense her presence and knows about her existence, about her power it might be trouble.” Sheilla objected looking away from the book with her hands curling into her palm.

Sam shakes his head “I’m sure she can handle them plus her friend is werewolf and you would there too, But the problem is if she does not choose right path, we might big problem though.”

Dean shrugs “I might only know her for few hours but I can say, she’s far from evil.” Sam nod

“She won’t hurt anyone with her power but what if some situations arise, where she has to bend her morals.” Sheila says quickly “chaos magic something I never dealt with, its legend I fear I might not able help her at all.”

“Like when she knows you’re going to die?” Sam said though it sounded like question its was statement.

Sheilla knows that it’s the truth, what you saw was her fate Sheila Bennett is going to die soon and that’s how it should.

Dean and Sam stay silent because they know they have no right to say in this when if one of them had the fate the other would go to hell and back to save one another, they know they would bend their morals for each other, sacrifice in order to save each other.

“Wouldn’t you do it.?” Sam argued with certainty in his eyes “what if she and you were to switch place wouldn’t you do the same” Sheilla doesn’t have a response to his questions. What can she say if she said yes that would wrong and right and if she says no that would be equally wrong and right considering who she is.

“Sam” dean shakes his head at him.

“No dean, you would do it for me and I would do it for you, there is no denying that.” He proclaimed “fearing her would only complicate things, she needs you more than ever so I recommend that you would come clean to her.”

Sheila takes in Sam’s proposition, would she do it will her morals allows her to do so, witches are the protecters of nature and you defy nature by merely existing.

“She doesn’t need anyone that fear when she or us doesn’t even fully know what she is . what she need is someone to relay on.” Sam eyes were watery when he ended his words, he doesn’t know why the slight thought of someone viewing any less than you made his heart ache.

Present

Derek eyes follow his uncle peter with glare as they walk towards their home, peter feet had a bounce in his heel humming a God’s know what song, the mere sight of his uncle…psychotic uncle annoyed him more than anything that he feels like the three of you were far better and bearable.

“You know, I think you actually burned a hole on the back of my head with all your glaring.” Peter glance back at his nephew with mock sadness on his face.

Derek stops in his tracks “You won’t have scott on your side if you threaten them.”

  “Yeah, but being an alpha you have to show that you’re one but it didn’t go well. You know I wasn’t planning this to go this way.” He sighs “I wasn’t expecting her to be there, I thought we meet at hospital considering that’s where we first meet. But she keeps defying my predictions.”

Derek’s jaw clenches as with his hands in his pocket he glances away from his uncle before speaking “What do plan to do with her.?”

 Peter turns to derek with a fake innocence look on his face “Oh, me. nothing.” Derek speeds towards his uncle hands on peters throat his nail digging into flesh, he is slammed to near tree.

“Tell me, now.” Derek demanded his eyes changing a low snarl leave his lips.

Peter lips curled into a smirk “I was wondering how you had gone soft after what happened, but I think I know now.” He kicks derek sending crashing to few feet away.

“Isn’t she something else.” He grins feeling more amused at derek confused look “please don’t tell you think she’s just a witch. I thought you were smarter than this.”

He walks towards him crouching down next to derek “She is far more than just a witch derek. And seems to me she knows who caused the fire all those years ago. that’s something very interesting isn’t it.”

Peter stands up with smile, derek stands up “She’s not some puppet that you can use.” Derek yelled.

“Not a puppet but she would make good pup though. She has the potential. “He teased leaving derek stand with dread settling in him, what does peter knows about you that he doesn’t even know.

You did not think this through at all, as promised Chris Argent drives you to home the two of you sits in silence.

“You look like you wanna tell me something.” Chris argent said glancing at you.

You perk up “Huh, yeah. You know my grams sort known as a witch, right?” He nods “well yesterday me and grams went to a filed trip….and we meet the Winchester brother and along the conversation…they said you guys were Hunters.” Chris hands tighten around the wheels.

Not exactly the truth but some times lying is alright and its not the time to reveal your powers.

“How much do you know about what’s happening here.?” Chris questioned without looking away from the road.

“Not much, just that there is werewolf, an alpha going around killing people. and you’re looking for it and a beta, and that you think jackson is one.” you shrug Chris let out a humorless laugh.

“That is basically everything. “   

You nod hands molded into fist in your lap “if he is one, are you going to kill him.?” your voice came out as whisper barely audible but the silent surrounding made your words audible to Chris. 

With perplexed look on his face Chris turns to you, fear and concern evident in your eyes for the male in question he sighs “No, we have code. We are not going to hurt a teenager. You don’t need to worry about your friend.”

“What If one of you broke the code.” The car comes to halt, for some reason Chris feel this as fact not a simple what if. Questions starts to arise in his mind not even registering you get out the car.   

You lean towards the window “not to sound ominousness but you should tell Allison about what you guys really are, teenagers don’t like secret especially something like this, I know you are trying to protect her but she might not take it that way.”

Without a word you walk leaving Chris perplexed.

You tread inside the house without a care skipping towards the hallway and swing open the door to the room and throw yourself on the bed letting out a loud sigh.

“You look beat.” Danny chuckle from his desk turning on his chair to face you, humming you close your eyes before opening a yawn leaves your lips.

“Half dead but still kicking.”

Shaking his head at your words with amusement danny, standing up he goes to his closest taking out a bag walking towards the bed he put the bag beside you, grabbing your hands he pulls you up ignoring your halfhearted protest.

“I was on hunt for costume, along the way I found this. It was too good to leave it there.” He takes the bag and place it on your lap.

You open the bag mouth opening wide when you take out outfit, its looks straight out of anime game armor outfit the golden and red color goes really well together, that’s not just it, clothing accessories and there is a golden earring as well as hair accessories its truly stunning.

“Danny this is amazing.” You voice was dreamy still taken in the outfit hands tracing the smooth fabric.

“It could be like red riding hood but sexier and cooler.” Danny sits beside you “about sexy do you have stiles cousin Miguel’s number?” scrunching your nose at that you try to think who danny is talking about.

“Miguel?”

Danny nods his head “you know, 6 feet black hair, dark eyes broad shoulders great jawline, clean shave.”

Your lips stretched in to an ‘O’ shape finally grasping about who he was talking about “Oh Miguel! Sorry danny I don’t have it, but you know what I’ll let him know.”

He frowns at you falsely “you’re bitchless.” His lips curling up.

Gasping you hit him “look who’s talking.” Scoffing you take out your phone feeling it vibrate it stiles.

“I gotta go, its stiles.” You put the outfit back as well as your phone.

Danny nod walking you out “Hey, you have anyone taking you to school Halloween party.?”

“No, but I did ask Issac. But I don’t know if he come though” you sigh opening the door holding the bag in one hand. “You gotta save me dance whatsoever.” You add with serious face. 

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckled opening his arms to hug you, hugging him back with a one last way you walk out straight to stiles home.

STILINSKI HOUSE

You and stiles peek around the corner watching stiles dad going through the case you glance at stiles “Are we sure, we must do this?”

“yes”

“Why does feel like we are going commit a crime.”

Stiles shrugs “Well it won’t be first illegal thing we do. Now come on.” He takes hold of your arms grabbing you out before you can escape. 

You and stiles sit down at the table “Whatcha doing?” stiles ask innocently

“Work.”

“Anything we can help with?” you offer with an equal innocent smile Noah looks up at your voice eyes narrowing at you. he shakes his head he turns to stiles

“You know, if you poured me an ounce of whiskey, that would be awfully nice.” He said before going back to the papers.

“Any leads?” you glance down at the papers while stiles pour the drink.

“You know I can't discuss that with you.”  while Noah was distracted stiles pour the drink almost at the brim.

“Okay. There you go, Dad. Bottoms up.” You and stiles watch Noah drown the drink still focused on the papers, you glance nervously at Noah. 

“You know, Derek Hale would be a whole hale of a lot--Hale of a lot...?” his words start to get slurred making stiles complete the sentence

“Hell... Yes... He would be a hell of a lot easier to catch if we could get an actual picture of him.”

 Stiles incredulously yells “How do you not have a picture of him?”

“It’s the weirdest thing... It's like every time we tried to get a mug shot, it's like two laser-beams were pointing at the camera.” You glance at the photo and he’s right derek face isn’t on the picture the only way you know it’s derek is because of his stupid black jacket.

“Weird right.”

Noha nod before closing his eyes “Oh, my God... Ohhh! God, that ounce hit me like a brick. And I have said way too much, and if you repeat any of that—"

“Dad, it's us we not gonna say anything. Come on!”

“See, the thing is, they're all connected... I mean, the bus driver that got killed? He was an insurance investigator assigned to the Hale House Fire.”

"Terminated under suspicion of fraud." You read out loud handing the paper to stiles

“Exactly.”

 “Who else?” you and stiles ask curiously at the same time making Noah look at the two of you before letting out a laugh.

 “The video store clerk who got his throat slashed? He's a convicted felon-- history of arson.”

“What about the other two guys, the guys who got killed in the woods?” stiles ask. You lean back in your chair crossing your arms over your chest.

“Priors all over their records, including—”

“Arson, they all had something to do with the fire, that burned the Hale house.” Stiles glance at you as you speak.

Does that mean what you saw was truth?.

Series masterlist

[erostheartist]

KOFI

INSTAGRAM

[nyx-the-reader]

Maybe our story was always meant to be incomplete,

Ending with us on different paths or in death,

Those few precious moments with each other is maybe all we get,

Along with this heartache, this agony,

Maybe it was my fault, for not appreciating you,

Or maybe it was fate's cruel design,

Now I wonder, if things would have different,

Had I not come to your life, would you have been happy?

Now, we are on the opposite ends of the spectrum,

Forever cursed to be devoid of the other,

Seeking forgiveness, from each other, for each other,

Maybe it was always going to end this way, in loneliness, in misery,

But still, What a beautiful tragedy....

-Nyx

[fandomcrackships]

Jensen Ackles and Kat Graham

[here4thebeansandmemes]

Hey there, it's me. :)

Name: Devin

Age: 20

Top 7 fandoms: Supernatural, Law and Order: Svu, Fnaf, Tangled, Criminal Minds, Markiplier, does dinosaurs count?

My messages are always open, feel free to say hi!!

[waynes-multiverse]

Ok hear me out. I got this idea after the episode of Dean getting his "virginity" back and hooking up with the porn star when he's digging through her dresser and finds the DVD of her ANYWAY

Best friend Dean who's been pining after you for sooo long but doesn't want to fuck it up and lose you. You're hanging out when you ask him to go grab something from your room and he's digging through your drawers looking and accidentally comes across some lingerie and now it's days later and he's so hot and bothered cuz he can't think of anything else (the boy has a serious panty kink lets be honest) and you catch him in your room going through your drawers again and OH

A/N: As I warned y'all, this is a longer DD because, well, the prompt was long, so it's not really my fault. All that backstory took on a life of its own, but I think no one will be mad about it 😅 Again, I had tons of fun with this one! You'll see 🤣

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18/NSWF, a ridiculous heat wave, friends to lovers (Wayne's Version), crack, a panty kink, some sneaky fluff, and some hot lovin' aka smut (oral f & face sitting)

Word Count: 4.5k (whoops)

Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles

Cruel Summer

“You open the beaches on the 4th of July, it’s like ringing the dinner bell for Christ’s sake…”

As Jaws flickered across the screen in the Dean Cave, the green-eyed hunter adjusted himself in his seat. Usually, he had perfect control over himself and his feelings for you.

But on some days – like today – when you sat right next to him on the couch in nothing but a loose t-shirt and some short sweatpants, fanning yourself with an old magazine of Busty Asian Beauties as beads of salty sweat collected on your forehead and trickled down your neck, you made it hard for him.

“God, I’m so hot,” you sighed exhaustively and sunk further into the couch cushions, lifting your shirt from your sticky skin to let some cool air to your boobs as a heat wave ravaged through Kansas.

Painfully hard.

“Dean?” You pouted with your best puppy dog look at your best friend.

“Huh?” Dean was in trance, watching you more than the movie, always on the edge of getting caught one of these days.

“We’re out of Sour Patch Kids. I have more in my nightstand. Can you get them for me please?” you asked sweetly. “I don’t wanna move. I might actually die from heat exhaustion.”

Dean sighed and wordlessly rose from his seat. He knew you always kept an array of salty and sweet midnight snacks in your room in case you got hungry and didn’t want to wander into the kitchen in the middle of the night.

Moreover, he was grateful for the break. God knows he couldn’t stand to be around you any longer, or he would’ve been too tempted to rip your clothes off and really make you sweat.

I’ll show her a damn heat exhaustion, he thought with a scoff.

Hastily grabbing the desired snack, his green eyes then caught something red and lacy sticking out from the first drawer of your dresser. The hunter knew the decent and honest thing would’ve been to just keep moving and leave your godforsaken room.

Turn around, as Bonnie Tyler sang. But for some reason, his bright eyes couldn’t resist, his curiosity overtaking him.

Dean opened the drawer with the intention to push the naughty little clothing item back into its place and out of sight. Get rid of the temptation, so to speak. It sounded like the perfect loophole. He got to touch it and look at it, but for a very heroic and noble reason – not because he was a creepy perv, violating his best friend’s privacy.

On some level, Dean knew he’d never stand a chance with you. He wasn’t good enough. He had so much baggage all his suitcases wouldn’t even fit into the bunker.

A damn touch of a pair of panties you weren’t even wearing was all he would ever get from you.

But then his fingers touched the soft and see-through material, his pads tracing every delicate scarlet thread with precision and care. It was game over for him then and there, cursing himself internally for not resisting harder as his cock twitched joyfully in his jeans.

Dean had laid his eyes on you the second you strolled with swinging hips into that diner in Wichita for your very first case together, a werewolf hunt six years ago. And he had managed to get by without an incident for years since then, even when you moved into the bunker, being rather proud of that achievement. He never wanted to lose you as a friend and didn’t dare to cross a line. Ever.

Recently, though, it became more difficult to keep his distance and not let his thoughts wander. His feelings were magma that slowly had filled a volcano over the years. Each time you did something sexy or sweet or goofy or smart, another drop was added. And now, that damn fire mountain was overdue for an eruption – no thanks to that stupid heat wave.

“Thanks,” you said absentmindedly as the hunter handed you the candy but didn’t settle back down. Instead, he stood behind the sofa and leaned his hands on the backrest.

What you didn’t know, though, was that Dean was sporting quite the boner and wouldn’t dare to come into your line of view. He was surprised he could even walk up straight and not like a caveman early in the evolution.

A hunter gathering panties.

“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he told you with a somber clear of his throat. As the fan carried a breeze of your perfume to his nose, his grip tightened on the couch.

You turned in your seat and looked over your shoulder at him, raising a surprised brow. “Already? But the movie’s not over.”

“Yeah, I’m beat,” he excused and tried his best not to look strained. He forced a tight smile to his lips while his little dude celebrated Spring Break in his jeans. “‘Sides, we’ve seen Jaws like a million times now, Y/N.”

It was a cherished summer tradition between the two of you, watching it every 4th of July.

“I guess so.” You shrugged disappointedly, watching your best friend retreat to his room. Truth was, you loved spending time with Dean and held those little traditions close to your heart.

The Winchesters were your family, the only one you ever had. And while some families wore matching pajamas on Christmas morning, you watched the first two Die Hard movies. You would watch Dean’s favorite horror movies on Halloween. Sixteen Candles and High Fidelity on your birthday, Tombstone and The Great Escape on Dean’s, and some lame-ass foreign language documentaries that you both snored through on Sam’s.

Valentine’s Day was a dreaded non-holiday for all three of you, but for the past four years, someone would leave a box of chocolate in front of your door. The salted caramel ones would always be missing, and it always came with the same Forrest Gump quote:

I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.

You knew the anonymous someone was Dean, and you knew he meant it as a joke. Still, you clung to those little traditions. They might seem silly and stupid to some, but to you, they were your lifeline in a world full of darkness.

So, you felt rather saddened Dean didn’t seem to honor them anymore. It wasn’t just Jaws, either. He’d been withdrawing from you for a while, and you didn’t understand why.

Unbeknownst to you, the green-eyed hunter had kept a lacy souvenir from your room.

Now, Dean had managed to avoid you for four days. Every night since his stealthy excursion, he would lie in his bed with your stolen panties in one hand and his throbbing length in the other, feeling goddamn pathetic for sinking so low.

It was probably so low that even his memory foam mattress would remember it.

With closed eyes, he then imagined how the perky globes of your ass would look like covered in crimson lace. How you would stretch out on his bed on all fours, with your ass high in the air and wiggling in front of him. How his fingers would push the wicked material aside to push into you, taking you deep and hard while you moaned his name.

As he ruined tissue after tissue, the guilt would wash over him as soon as he was done. Call it a post-nut epiphany.

Dean knew it was wrong to think those things. He knew he only made it harder for himself to ever look you into the eyes again. Hell, he barely could do it now, even though a part of him audaciously wondered what other treasures were hiding in that drawer of yours. And more pressingly, what ultimate wealth he would find beneath your clothes. If your lingerie was gold, he’d be a creepy-ass dragon sitting on it.

So, Dean tried to avoid you as best as possible. Mostly because, well…

“God, fuck me,” you groaned exhaustively and opened the refrigerator door, leaning against it as the refreshing cold hit you from behind. On top of that, you held a big bag of frozen peas to your sweaty chest. You already wore the bare minimum – some short denims and a white tank top, your hair up in a messy bun.

“I swear underboob sweat is the worst. Just be glad you don’t have tits,” you complained. “Guys, seriously, can we invest in an AC? This heat wave is killing me! This bunker is like one giant oven…”

You watched as Dean squirmed in his seat as he ate his cereal, looking as uncomfortable as you. Surely, the boys were suffering just as badly during those sweltering temperatures, already forgoing the usual flannels and opting for plain t-shirts instead. How they were still wearing jeans was beyond you. When you first moved in, you protested against Dean’s suggestion of Naked Tuesdays, but these days, you were actually giving it a second thought.

“Well, I’m gonna drive to Kansas City today and see if I can get us an AC. Apparently, they’re all sold out, but I figured maybe with a bit of flirting and some cleavage, I can still get us one,” you explained your plan with a bright smirk and wiggled your eyebrows. “What d’you guys think, huh?”

Dean then abruptly banged his fist on the table, spilling some milk from his bowl on the surface. “For God’s sake, Y/N!”

You frowned in confusion at his unexpected outburst. “What’s up with you? Are you having a heat stroke?”

“Flirting, really?!” the hunter barked, his brow shaped into a deeply furious v.

“What’s wrong with that? Double standard much? You do it all the time to get shit,” you countered and watched his jaw clench in anger.

“I do-... not,” he remarked snappily with a fierce finger drilling into the table, clearly lacking a good argument. Sam cleared his throat in agreement with you, but that only earned him a glare. “And Jesus fucking Christ, would it hurt you to put on some goddamn clothes? You’re not even wearing a bra!”

“Did you not hear my tits rant just now? Of course I’m not! ‘Sides, those boobs are gonna get you an AC, so be a little more grateful to them,” you retorted, annoyed with his attitude. You’d think of all the people in this world, Dean Winchester would understand. (And maybe even appreciate it.) “And how can you even tell, huh?”

“‘Cause science, Y/N! You’re literally cooling your tits! What did you think was gonna happen, huh? Nipples!” he vented outrageously. “This ain’t a strip club!”

“It’s 102 degrees, Dean!” you argued, throwing your arms up. “Look, if I could, I’d even go naked, alright? It’s fucking hot!”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Dean shook his head and stormed out of the kitchen without any further comment.

Confused, you blinked at the younger Winchester. “What’s up with him?”

But Sam only shrugged, shaking his head. “Uhm, I don’t know,” he replied, although he could take an educated guess, suspecting his brother’s feelings for you as the culprit.

“Well, alright, I’m going to Kansas City,” you decided without wasting another thought on the older Winchester’s strange behavior. “Text me if you guys need something. I can pick it up on my way home.”

Dean knew he was in deep trouble as his bow legs bolted down the bunker’s hallways. He tried so hard to keep it together, but when he saw you, half-naked and panting in front of the fridge, he quite literally lost his coolness in this goddamn heat wave.

The green-eyed hunter understood a thing or two about torture, but this was the worst of all. He’d rather have a demon repeatedly peel off his skin in hellfire than endure a day more of this fucking madness.

If the temperatures didn’t drop soon, it would be a cruel summer ahead of him.

As Dean heard the door to the garage close, he knew you’d left for your trip and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. At least he’d get a few hours of peace.

With the best intentions, he strolled to his bedroom, but as he passed your room on his way, he found the door ajar. Whatever good motives he had up until this point, went quickly out the window right then.

His hand twitched at the thought of more riches, worse than any trigger finger and competing with a California earthquake, and well, so did the dick in his jeans. It was an addiction at this point, an obsession he couldn’t resist nor get rid off. The fact that it was forbidden and wrong only made it even more appealing. The apple in the garden of Eden.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t an anonymous support group for this kind of sickness.

As unbearable shame and guilt collected in his stomach like rainwater in the gutter, his eager hands rummaged through your dresser drawer. There was purple lace and black satin, navy G-strings and white Brazilians. It was never ending, and the hunter couldn’t stop as he picked up each item and let his fantasies roam wild.

God, the things he wanted to do to you were as colorful as your rainbow full of underwear.

“Dean?!”

The green-eyed hunter froze in his place, a white lace panty still bunched up in his large palm. The hair in the back of his neck stood up in shock, a part of him refusing to turn around at the sound of your voice. He was caught red-handed, and he knew it.

“What are you doing in my room?” you prompted, suspiciously cocking an eyebrow. It looked fairly obvious what your best friend was up to, but you didn’t want to accuse him right away, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Frankly, it was quite unbelievable.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Dean replied and swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he held up his hands like a criminal during an arrest, the evidence still in his grasp.

“Well, it looks like you’re snooping through my lingerie,” you pointed out bluntly.

Dean nodded, guilt-ridden and reluctant. “I can explain.”

“Good,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m waiting…”

“Right, uhm…”

“Oh, before you scramble for an answer, you should know, though, that I’m aware a pair of red lace panties is missing, and I know the washer didn’t eat them,” you said and raised an expectant brow.

You had a feeling your pervy best friend was behind the mystery of the missing item. Now you knew for sure.

“Man, I always knew you were a kinky son of a bitch, but this is a new level, Dean,” you scolded.

Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor in shame, scratching the nape of his neck. “Look, uhm, there’s no good excuse. I know I fucked up here. I’ll sleep in a motel tonight until I find my own place. You can stay here with Sam, alright? I’ll move out and won’t bother you anymore.”

As he tried to brush past you, you blocked his exit and grabbed his arm. “So, you’re gonna leave? Just like that?”

“What other choice do I have? I don’t wanna make you more uncomfortable,” he stated without glancing at you once. He couldn’t bring himself to look into your eyes and see the disappointment and disgust there. “I know what I did was wrong.”

“Oh, so wrong,” you agreed. “I just figured you wouldn’t run away like a coward and take your punishment like a man, you know? Aren’t you at all curious what I’m wearing right now?”

That was when Dean’s juniper eyes slowly wandered to you and caught your gaze for the first time. You smirked as his breathing became heavy and his look darkened and filled with lust. It seemed like he wanted to rip your clothes off with his goddamn bare teeth like a wild animal.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or if I’m dreaming,” he admitted, his deep voice part harsh swallow and part nervous chuckle.

“Neither,” you said, biting your bottom lip.

Carefully, you leaned closer, your hands reaching up to cup his scruffy cheeks. Noses nuzzled as your lips ghosted against his with a daring grin. You wouldn’t go further; it was up to Dean to make that final decision.

And then, as no more than a mere second ticked by on the clock, the hunter crashed his lips against yours in a kiss so scorching it made the current heat wave look like an ice age. If you thought you were hot before, now it felt like you were burning in a wildfire.

Dean roughly pushed you against the door, his kiss all teeth and tongue in an uncontrollable frenzy. His dick was hard and thick, straining against his jeans and rubbing along your thigh. Pantingly, you gasped for air and grabbed his hand, guiding it down your body and into your shorts.

“Feel that?” you asked mischievously as his fingers dug through your soaked folds and collected the arousal he caused. A wanton growl left his plush lips. “All for you, baby. You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?”

“Shit, yeah, so bad…” Dean rasped huskily against your throat as he worshipped his path down your body, forcing your shirt up till his wet tongue rolled over your pert and still cold nipple.

“Gonna make it up to me, huh? Show me how sorry you are?” you prompted, your fingers raking through his sandy blond and soft hair, eliciting a groan from him every time you tugged a little harder.

Teeth pinched your skin, tongue cherished your taste, and lips left your throat bruised. It was equal parts hot, sweaty, messy, naughty, dirty, and sticky as your bodies rutted against one another, looking for dire release.

With swollen and plumper than before lips, he came back up for air and found your eyes. He kissed you with heated passion once more as if he couldn’t resist to touch you over and over again. He had to restrain himself to be able to speak.

“So, uhm, you sure about this?” Dean asked between labored breaths with an insecure gleam in his green eyes. “‘Cause if we go further, I don’t think I can stop. And I don’t mean just this time but ever… If you want this to be a one time thing, you gotta tell me, sweetheart, so I can mentally prepare myself. I mean, I’ll take what I can get, you know? Not that I care either way… Well, that’s not true. I do care. A lot… But, you know, you’re you, and I’m me, so I’m not delusional. I know there’s no way you would–”

You interrupted his babbling with a kiss, causing the hunter to lose his words. You looked deeply into his eyes and offered him a small smile of comfort.

“Dean, listen to me, okay? ‘Cause this is very important,” you urged, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.

He nodded, gulping anxiously. “O-Okay.”

“You’re incredible,” you said and watched him inhale sharply at your words, blinking at you in disbelief. “Absolutely fucking bonkers incredible. You’re right – you’re you. And thank God you are, because you’re the best, funniest, smartest, kindest, and goddamn hottest man I’ve ever met. I’m tired of you not seeing that. As my boyfriend, I really need to you to see that, alright?”

As Dean pensively took in your words, his brow began to furrow. “Boyfriend?”

The corners of your mouth rose to a beam. “Yeah, boyfriend,” you confirmed. “That’s what you want, right? ‘Cause I’d really like that, too.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah… That’s what I want.” Dean nodded eagerly before another swallow followed. “I mean, among other things…”

You bit your lip, smirking. “What other things?”

“Well, uhm…”

Dean didn’t finish his sentence, his lips impatiently claiming yours instead. He pressed you hungrily back against the door, massive hands sliding down your sides till they hooked into the hem of your denim shorts and ripped them down to your ankles, leaving you only covered in teal lace. He growled shamelessly at the sight, his thick digits eagerly diving inside.

“Wanna be inside you,” he groaned into your ear, thumbing furiously at your clit. “Every hour of every day…”

“We can do that,” you agreed with a giggle, your arms locking around his neck, fingers carding through his hair in the back.

“Wanna feel your mouth around my–” The last word was muffled as he ravaged your neck, but you understood where he was going with this.

“You can do that,” you said with a smile.

“And fuck, I want you to ride my face,” he declared. That demand left you speechless, making even Dean stop for a minute and look at you. “Too far?”

You shook your head and smirked. “I can do that.”

Before Dean’s mind could fathom your words, you shoved him onto the bed, his back hitting the mattress. When you stood before him, slotted between his muscular legs, his gaze trailed up and down your body, memorizing every beautiful curve. As your fingers curled into the waistband of your panties, however, the hunter stopped you.

“Leave ‘em on, sweetheart. Don’t you dare take those off,” he told you, his hands rapaciously reaching out to you.

You played with the hem of your top and smirked, your tongue licking over your lips. “What about this? On or off?”

“Off,” he shot back faster than a bullet leaving a barrel.

“You first,” you demanded and grinned. “Remember, this is still your punishment.”

“God, I love getting punished,” Dean mumbled and slipped out of his shirt. He then swiftly shimmied out of his jeans, discarding each item carelessly around the room.

He then took a deep breath as he tugged the waistband of his boxers, his erection already fighting its way out. “Well, here goes nothing,” the hunter said and pulled his underwear down.

You tilted your head to see his hard cock from a better angle as it sprang against his stomach. Your lips parted in anticipation, wondering what he’d taste like on your tongue and how deep you’d be able to take him. You guessed there’d be a struggle ahead, considering how huge and wide he was.

“Oh, I would not call that monster nothing,” you commented with a scoff, your pussy throbbing with need. “Explains all that BDE.”

Dean blushed. It was cute to watch. “Thank you.”

Giggling, you removed your shirt and tossed it at his face, blinding him for a second. You used that momentum to slide onto the bed and straddle his torso. As his eyes finally found you again, he almost choked on his spit when he gazed up at your perfect tits above him. A primal grunt escaped his throat.

With a mesmerized sparkle in his eyes, his hands trailed up your body and cupped your breasts, massaging them roughly as your panties grew damper by the minute. He then pulled you down to his lips and kissed you breathless before he left them with a boyish smirk on his freckled face.

“Hop on, sweetheart.”

And as if his words hadn’t been enough motivation, his hands wandered to palm your ass and hauled you closer to his mouth. He was an impatient one – or maybe he’d waited years for this and was finally tired of it.

Your knees sunk into the mattress on either side of his stubborn head. His fingers dented your flesh as they grabbed onto your thighs. Yours held onto the headboard for support. You tried not to look down, because then you’d see his big lopsided and full of excitement grin.

The same one he had when you found a diner in Kentucky that advertised the biggest burger in America (it wasn’t). The same one he had when he thought he had run into a member of Metallica at a gas station outside of Phoenix (he didn’t). The same one he had when you and Sam gifted him his own beer brewing station for his last birthday (which tasted horrible, but neither you nor Sam had the heart to tell him).

And now, he had that same grin when he was about to be with you.

As your pussy dripped above him, Dean couldn’t hold back his lewd groans any longer. You didn’t even have to lower yourself; he just dragged you down onto his face all to eagerly. His fingers swiped your panties to the side, and before you could even adjust your grip on the bedpost, his tongue darted into your soaked channel as deeply as he could and sucked you goddamn dry.

With several whimpers, you clenched around his wet muscle. If you were water in the desert, he was parched and drinking to survive.

His nose was buried in your folds, rubbing deliciously against your clit as he lapped your pussy in a vicious attack that left you squirming and moaning to a pornographic degree above him. Because Dean was just that – pure porn.

Instinctively and irresistibly, you ground your cunt against him, the vibrations of his keen groans against your sensitive flesh rocking you to the edge of your climax. He ate you out and devoured you like that damn gigantic burger in Kentucky. And as you dared to blink down and watch him in action, he had the audacity to devilishly smirk up at you with the crinkles around his green eyes alone, gauging your every reaction to his touches as if you were a goddamn movie on a silver screen.

You trembled and quivered and screamed as your orgasm electrified every molecule in your body. You white-knuckled the wood in your grip, your body only held up by Dean’s strong arms because God knows your weak legs were useless now.

As wave after wave washed over you, Dean drank every drop of yours, his tongue never getting enough of your taste. The sounds that filled the room were carnal and obscene.

“Fuck, Dean,” you sighed blissfully and lifted off his face and captured his swollen and red lips in a grateful kiss, your palms finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Your drenched and sensitive cunt settled on his thighs as an egregiously large erection poked your belly and tempted you further.

Dean smirked up at you, all satisfied and confident with his achievement. “I think we have a slight problem, though.”

Your brow knitted, your heart tightening with anxiety. Had you been as disappointing as the burger, beer, and that fake Metallica band member?

But Dean only grinned teasingly at your confused face. “There’s no way I learned my lesson here.”

You snorted and sought out his lips, the kiss giving you a taste of yourself. “We’ll work on that. I might have to nickname you Jaws after this,” you joked.

“Can’t wait for you to explain that one to Sammy.” Dean snorted, chuckling. “Now, how about you hop on again, but this time a little further south, huh?” he proposed with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a suggestive twitch of his cock for emphasis.

You giggled with a few nods. “I can do that.”

Was it worth the words? 😝

For all you newcomers and as a general reminder, Dirty Drabbles are always open. I still have quite a few left, but you're welcome to send more in, and we'll add it to the collection at some point 😎🔥

PUT YOUR DIRTY THOUGHTS HERE

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @imsapphine @globetrotter28 @mxltifxnd0m @lacilou

[cheynovak]

Just what I needed

Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character     

Summary: Y/N has a bad moment after a hunt. She text Dean for comfort.

Warnings: None.

English is not my first language 

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

Y/N stared at her phone, her thumb hovering over the "Send" button. She knew she probably shouldn't, but the weight on her chest was suffocating. Before she could talk herself out of it, she hit send.

Y/N: *I could really use a hug right now.*

Her stomach immediately twisted with regret. What was she doing? She never did this—never let her walls down. And she definitely didn’t go running to Dean Winchester for comfort. She was tougher than that. At least, she tried to be.

A few moments passed before her phone buzzed with a reply.

Dean: *You okay?*

Her heart skipped a beat. Of course, he would be concerned. She never asked for help, never showed weakness. She started typing, trying to downplay the situation.

Y/N: *Yeah, I’m fine. Forget it. Long day, that’s all.*

She bit her lip, knowing Dean wouldn’t just forget it. He was Dean, after all.

Dean: *Don’t lie to me. What’s going on? You never ask for stuff like this.*

Her fingers hovered over the screen again. Damn it. Why did he have to see through her so easily?

Y/N: *Seriously, Dean, it’s no big deal. Just tired from the hunt. I’ll be fine. Really.*

Dean: *Be there in 10.*

Her eyes widened. Panic surged through her.

Y/N: *No, Dean, I’m fine! You don’t need to come over. I overreacted. *

But it was too late. She knew it. When Dean made up his mind, there was no stopping him.

Ten minutes later, she heard the rumbling sound of baby followed by a loud knock at the door, and the unmistakable sound of it swinging open with force.

"Y/N?" Dean called out, his voice filled with concern.

Before she could even think, she was moving—running to him. The moment she saw him standing in the doorway, her resolve crumbled. Without a word, she threw her arms around him, clinging to him as though he were the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

Dean’s arms wrapped around her instantly, holding her tight. "Hey, I got you, sweetheart." he murmured into her hair, his voice soft, soothing. "It’s okay. I’m here."

Her face buried into his chest, and for the first time in a long while, Y/N let herself break. The tears she had been holding back for what felt like forever finally spilled over, soaking into Dean's flannel.

Dean just held her, one hand rubbing small circles on her back, the other resting securely around her shoulders. "You don’t always have to be strong, you know," he whispered. "It’s okay to let it out."

She shook her head against his chest, sniffling. "I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you come all the way here. I just... I don’t know what I was thinking."

"Don’t apologize," Dean said firmly, leaning back just enough to tilt her chin up so he could look into her eyes. "You had a crappy hunt. You needed a friend. You called me. That’s what I’m here for. You don’t have to do this alone, Y/N."

She nodded, her throat too tight to speak. But as she stood there, wrapped in Dean’s warmth, she realized maybe—just maybe—she didn’t always have to be strong. At least, not when she had him.

And for now, that was enough.

--

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read!

@lmg14 @kr804573 @nancymcl @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78 @whimsyfinny @kamisobsessed @jensens-bonnie-on-the-side @ferrersbiggestfan @spxideyver @kamisobsessed @deans-queen @yvonneeeee @libby99hb

[saltandburnheathens]

Good morning Miss Winnie. (Part II)

Part I

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader.

Rating: Gen.

Summary:

Two weeks after Dean became a father, it's time to jump back on the hunting horse. But he's hesitant.

Notes: Non-canon, no time line. And I don't ever want kids. But I just became an aunt and I sort of need to get this out of my system! Short and I'm not promising that I won't continue this. Who knows really. Finally this was written after I'd taken my usual nightly gummy.

“Bonnie?” 

You shot Dean a look across the kitchen. He was cooking eggs on the stove while you were nursing. Castiel was the only other member of the bunker awake at six a.m. and, fortunately, occupied the library. It wasn’t that you cared about the other men seeing you breastfeeding, it was how they reacted to it. Both became very awkward and outwardly attempted to look anywhere but at your breasts.

“You can’t accept Winnie, but you pick Bonnie?” 

Dean shrugged. 

“I was just thinking if we had a boy we could call him Clyde. We’d have our own little gang.” 

“Firstly, I’m not doing this again. And secondly, Bonnie and Clyde were felons.”

“What do you mean ‘you’re not doing this again?’ Don’t most women go crazy for more kids? They smell the baby's head and some hoo-doo helps them forget about the pain and bodily fluids.” 

“Yeah, well. You try being in labour for damn near forty eight hours and shitting yourself in a room full of people. Including the man you love. Then come back and tell me you’ve forgotten about it and wanna do it all over again.” 

“Point taken.” Dean laughed, plating up eggs and bacon for them both, “And you didn’t shit yourself by the way.”

“I didn’t?”

“I think I’d remember.”

You smiled at the plate of food and carefully lifted the baby from your breast. She’d long since stopped feeding and was instead squirming, ready to be winded. 

“I can take it from here.” Dean reached down and lifted the little girl up into his arms. He held her upright against his chest and began rubbing circles into her small back, “There we go kiddo. Get it up.” 

“Be careful.” You warned. 

“I’m not taking any chances.” Dean gestured to the polka-dot muslin cloth on his shoulder. 

You watched as he gently walked your daughter around the kitchen, her little body squirming while he cooed into her ear. She made several little squeaking noises, threatening to cry, only to be brought back to earth by her father’s tender voice. 

“Come on now, no tears. I’ve got you.” 

Your eyes locked with Dean’s for a moment, both reflecting a soft smile. He was proving to be an excellent father, not that you’d doubted him for a second. But Sam had. He’d been very vocal about Dean knowing nothing about babies and how, despite the fact that he was happy for you both, he thought this whole ‘raising a family thing’ was a bad idea.

“You guys are great together! But I don’t think this is the right environment for a kid.”  Or something along the same bullshit. 

Dean had been adamant about her though. He damn near refused to speak to Sam until he stopped with his questions and logical answers. Sure you both had been sceptical about bringing a child into this life, but neither of you had actively prevented it. If it happened, it happened. 

Speaking of the devil. Sam groaned and stretched his arms above his head, stumbling into the kitchen. He dug the palm of his hands into his eyes, drawing them down his face afterwards. 

“Morning. Coffee’s in the pot.” Dean said, his voice shifting from Dad to brother by just an octave. 

Sam poured himself a hefty mug before offering more to the kitchen. You declined but insisted that he fill up Deans. 

“He’ll need the caffeine for your hunt.” 

“Oh so you’re back on the job then?” Sam questioned, his eyebrows rising. 

Dean’s brow furrowed as he shifted the little one on his chest. He searched her face, the cogs visibly turning in his head. 

“I’ll get back to you on that one.” 

“What? I thought you’d be happy to get back on the horse.” You’d assumed that after being out of work for almost two weeks that Dean would be craving a hunt, but his face said otherwise. 

“Yeah. I mean I am. But she - “ 

“She’ll be right here when you get back.” You interrupted, “It’s a simple in and out job. Right Sam?” 

“Sure. Run of the mill ghost in the attic for some old friend’s of Bobby’s.” Sam took a lengthy sip of his coffee, “And it pays too.” 

“See? And we could use the cash for Winnie.” 

Sam scoffed, barely holding onto the coffee in his mouth. He looked between you both and then to his niece. 

“Winnie?”

“Short for Winchester but not her name. Just a placeholder until we find the perfect one.” You inform, “But what’s so wrong with Winnie anyway? It’s a perfectly acceptable name.” 

“Nothing wrong with it at all. It’s just not what I pictured you both to come up with.” 

“Fortunately it’s not.” Dean added, shifting the baby from one arm to the other as she reached up with her little hands, “As for the hunt, I’m not sure.”

He offered a finger for her hand to close around, eyes never leaving her. the features on his face softened, lips almost pulling downwards into a frown. 

You exchanged a knowing look with Sam. 

“If this is about Win- her- you don’t need to worry. I can cope fine on my own for one night.” You offered

“Yeah but what if it isn’t just one evening?” Dean answered, his voice doing nothing to disguise the concern he was feeling. 

“It’s only a few towns over. We’ll be home by four am - ” 

“But what if something goes wrong? Huh? Then what? I’ve left my wife without a husband, my little girl without a father. And -” 

You jumped to your feet at the distress in his voice and rushed to loop an arm around his middle.  

“Don’t say that. It’s a run of the mill job, something you guys have done one thousand times over. Nothin’ bad is gonna happen other than a few bruises.” You laid your head on his shoulder, eyes coming to settle on the little lady in his arms, “I can deal with those. And she’ll not know any different.” 

With a deep sigh, Dean kissed you gently on the head. It was an uncharacteristic display of affection, especially in front of his brother, but you hadn’t the heart to react. You knew he was feeling vulnerable, that much was clear in his reaction, and to draw attention to it would only make things worse. Instead you settled against him and allowed his warmth and the soothing sounds of your baby to still your own anxiety. 

You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that some part of you was fearful of your husband walking out of the bunker and never coming home. Hunting was a dire job, one which had claimed the life of many of your comrades. Dean may be an experienced hunter, renowned in his own right, but he certainly wasn’t immune to unfortunate outcomes. That much had been proven time and time again. 

Lost in thought, the only sounds in the kitchen were the gentle fussing of your daughter and the whirring of the circulation fans. 

Finally Castiel broke the silence with his sudden entrance. He appeared in a flurry of feathers, one coming to land on the table top by your abandoned coffee cup. 

“We have doors, Cas. Use ‘em.” Dean warned, pulling your daughter closer to his chest as she began to fuss. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. It’s a force of habit.” Castiel answered, taking a seat next to Sam, “I startled her.” 

“You think?!” 

You moved to take the baby from Dean but he shook his head, whispering a small ‘I got this’ back to you as he started to rock her from side to side. But it was no good, her cries grew louder and more furious. You began to wonder how those big sounds could even come from such a small creature. 

Before you could offer your help again Castiel brushed past you. 

“I didn’t mean to scare her.” He said, coming to stand in front of Dean “Is there anything I can do?” 

“Here” to your surprise, Dean held your daughter out towards the angel, “You can settle her down while I grab her diaper bag.” 

You lean in and quickly sniff.  

“I don’t think she needs changed, D.”

“Well I don’t know what else to do. She -” 

Castiel reached forward and lifted the infant from Dean. He brought her to settle in the crook of his arm, offering up his fingers for her to grab at. Gradually she began to quiet, her hands reaching up for Castiel’s and her eyes wide, staring into his face. 

You and Dean watched on in outward confusion. Castiel, to your knowledge, had never handled a baby before. At least not in recent years. 

“How did you do that?” Dean asked almost aggressively, “She was cryin’ up a storm seconds ago and you just took her and nothing.”

“Did you use your grace?” Sam suggested. 

“She’s much too small to handle my grace in any capacity. It would kill her.” 

You considered jumping in and taking her from Castiel but stopped yourself. She was settled and happily holding onto the angel's fingers. No sense in ruining it. Beside you Dean was tense, clearly struggling with something along the same lines. His face was etched in hard lines and you could see his brows furrowing. 

Gently you looped your arm through his and guided him to his long forgotten coffee cup. He moved but his eyes never left you daughter in the angel’s arms. 

“So,” Sam cleared his throat, “About this hunt.” 

“What about it?” Dean glared at him over the rim of his cup. 

“Are you in or -” 

“He’s in.” You answer before the question could even be finished. 

“Wha - I -” 

“Oh come on. You got this. I can handle her and Cas will be here if I need any help. Right Cas?” The angel gave something akin to a positive response, “You have to get back out there at some point.”

Dean’s gaze flickered from Sam to you, finally coming to land on Castiel. He watched the angel gently swaying the little girl in his arms and the lines on his face began to soften. 

“Hmmm. You’re sure about this?” He asked. 

“Positive.” 

“If there’s any trouble, anything at all, you call me.” 

“Sure.” You smiled, “But I doubt Winnie will be as much of an issue as your malevolent spirit.” 

Dean chuckled, accompanied by Sam. 

“God, we’re really going to have to talk about her name when I get back.” 

[zepskies]

👀 Sneak Peek: The Honorable Choice - Part 1

The Honorable Choice - Part 1 is coming soon on 11/03!

Here's a sneak preview! 💜

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse. (18+ only)

Part 1: Pride & Prejudice

June 1872

Dean hears some of his men shouting, along with the telltale cracking of bone that would make a less seasoned soldier wince. He spares a look to Benny, his Lieutenant, and sets down his glass of whiskey.

Dean’s path takes him brusquely out of his office and toward the stables. He grabs his gun and his hat on the way there, setting the latter on his head.

Is it too much to ask for one night where he can drink in peace?

Dean comes to find a young woman being detained by two of his men, Kline and Novak. Roman sports a bloody nose and his eye is already beginning to swell. The woman fights against their hold.

Even under the pale moonlight, Dean notes the way she’s dressed: a deer skin dress cinched at the waist, over thin pants and shoes. He surveys her tan skin, her black hair that blends into the night, twisted into a long braid, and the anger in her dark eyes.

“What have we got here?” Dean says. He stows his gun in its holster as he approaches her, resting his hands at his belt.

“I caught her breaking into the stables, Captain,” Roman says. He prods with a hiss at his busted nose while trying to stem the bleeding. That’s going to be a bad break.

She remains tight-lipped, stubborn... 

**AN: I'm going to start creating series tag lists again.

If you're not on my Dean Winchester tag list but would like to be tagged on this series, feel free to comment here or on the Series Masterlist! 💜

Dean W. Tag List

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @this-is-me19

@emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @kaleldobrev @spnwoman

@thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @pieandmonsters @globetrotter28

@adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka

@branj19 @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24

@ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley

@sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @mimaria420

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @ajjustice

@ades106 @my-stories-vault @cevansbaby-dove @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof

@tmb510 @skyesthebomb @syrma-sensei @harleycao @king-of-milf-lovers

@pizzagirlxnsfwx @justsom3onesworld @beskarfilms @lunaticgurly @artemys-ackles

@malindacath @mrsjenniferwinchester @jc-winchester @charmed-asylum @fromcaintodean

@violetlilysunshine @traiitorjoe @tsofo26 @k-slla @jackles010378

@deanbrainrotwritings @urfav-tz @alwaystiredandconfused @torchbearerkyle @mrlonelycat

@deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70

@clinicallydepresso @liopleurodean @brujaporfavor @xiphoidbones @xsophianicolex

@jays-bonnie-on-the-side @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @ghostslillady

@siampie @hell-o-kittys @stoneyggirl2 @spnfamily-j2 @mostlymarvelgirl

[aloneatpeace]

In Another Universe

Chapter 20

Mount wundagore

You float on midair with Darhold Infront of you with branches of numerous realities around you, Wong held captive by the red mist, hands tied and bloody and bruised face. Eyes closed you reach out the universe where you could dream walk, to get close to your family faster. While you still hear your subconscious reach earth 838.

Earth 838 y/n was making table as you watch, Alex and your boys watching a new movie that the boys wanted watch for a quite some time. As the variant y/n move to get more dishes you follow, feeling the presence the variant glance back but you hide behind the staircase that led to second floor of the house. An ominous feeling crept through her spin as the wind starts to get harsher, the floor felt slippery as her legs tumbled the picture of her earlier birthday seems to look at her making her breath gets shorter the lights creaked. The broth dish starts to move she take the dish her hands but the wind gets harsher and more made her almost drop it and place it on the side her breath gets shorter a massive headache that made her hunch over the front of the sink.

Shaking her head, she stands a sigh leaving her lips she unintentionally glance at window to see a reflection of her but in different clothes, she doesn’t look like her at all even the though the facial features are same. She can see its not her its someone else someone more cruel, cold hearted, she seems to glare at her.

 She tries to move but her feet kept her an excruciating pain exploded in her chest she closes her eyes face pinched at the pained expression, suddenly everything went quite as she opens her eyes a red hue shine in her iris.

You sigh as you able to get inside your variant.

“Mom, are you alright?” a small voice called you from behind.

“yeah” you slowly turn to see your son Charlie stand there with a worried look on his face. At the sight of him you melt inside. He slowly walks towards you as you watch with adoration.

He stands Infront of you kneel before him, his put his little hands on your forehead puzzled pout on his lips when he feels no temperature but he heard you wince. “You alright mom?”

You smile wholeheartedly a tenderness that only received for your boys you run your hands through his hair “I'm alright sweetheart”

He hums satisfied with the answer he turns his head “get ready I’m coming with mom”

“Just come then” Oliver impatient voice yell back

Charlie takes your hands in his “come on mom” you let him pull you wherever he wants with a soft smile on your face.

As you get to the table Oliver and Alex stands beside a large cake on the table Charlie run towards them, together they start to yell happy birthday to you. The boys try to copy their fathers voice Alex smiley smile at there antics as he sings wishes to you.

This what it like to leave with them.

  One of the warriors slowly walk towards Wong, to avoided get caught by the scarlet witch. Wong left his head up weakly “you are alive “

The witch node “but not many other have lost”

“Set me free, I need to destroy the book”

“no. it’s can’t be you” she softly whispers before caring his cheeks, she silently moves towards the darkhold that hover the air, unsheathing the knife that hidden in her robes.

“NO, sara no”

She grabbed the darkhold and stab it forcefully with the knife.

The connection to dream walk break making both you and earth 838 you fall. In earth 838 Alex and your boys run towards shouting your name in concern at the sudden fall. You look up from the kneeling ground to get the boys, your variant also kneels to comfort the worried boys.

“Boy…... boys ……...”

“MOM…”

“Love are you alright?” Their voice echoes in your head as faint connection still there before it all lost.

Sara body burned as she destroyed the darkhold, you hastily grab the book tears threating to fall a sob screaming inside you.

Quickly the saddens was replace by furious anger, glaring at Wong you throw him by blasting a red mist to the destroyed temple front.

“I need the darkhold spell’s, you’re the sorcerer supreme. Tell me what you know”

Wong spit out the blood “you’re gonna have to kill me, witch”

You shake your head “no not you, them” you lift your hands and the survived warriors held in midair as you bind them with red magic binds, they squirm in pain whimpers and pained plea for life reach Wong’s ear

“y/n stop. y/n please”

You flick your wrist more pain shoot through them making the scream for life. Seeing them in pain Wong give in

“The darkhold was just copy”

You stop “a copy”

“Legends speaks of a mountain with the wretched spells you seek carved into its wall. Its is where darkhold was transcribed. Mount wundagore, Wanda Maximoff mother of all witches and witchcraft worshiped there it centuries ago”

“no one survived the journey, no one is welcomed there”

You lift a finger letting the dead man’s sling ring fly and throw it to Wong “perhaps we will the exception”

Sam, dean and Klaus was handcuffed and an electric device that shocked them was placed on their neck. America stands next to them with a guilty look her face, they are put in glass box all they don’t remember how they got here when they wake up this how they found themselves. the door of the lab and a guy walk in Sam’s and dean eyed widen “CAS?”

The cas in question give them a blank questioning look dean gulp he just saw him getting vanished because of you. “This is a highly secure research facility you three will be tested and will be in surveillance under us”

“I am no lab rat to be tested” Klaus seethes

“What you mean? cas?”

“I am not your cas as you speak of and test are being done because you are unwelcomed here traveling from one universe to another is not a normal thing. We need to run some test to identify you”

“Wait… what earth are we on/” Sam asks

“This is earth 838” the monitor near beep alerting cas “he walks towards the system transferring the data to his tablet “let’s take look, you all are from earth 616.”

“How…. How do you know all about this how are you even here working for whatever this guy is? “Dean stutter out

“Well……. I’m here because something you both did” cas said walk towards them “it was not like that; you both brought a massive apocalypse here every dead and living in affected by that not just that every creature of hell was unleashed “

 “What did we do?” Sam asks hesitantly

“You brought the mother of all monsters Echidna”

Dean shrug “but we made it right”

Cas tilt his head side “no the illuminate did”

“So where are we? “Sam point at Klaus “where is he… the other him”

“Well Klaus and every vampire that broke the law was killed” Klaus glare at cas “Sam and dean died during the battle. That’s how I got this job “

“Great we all dead then”

A message pop in cas tablet as Ultron enter the lab “now you will be meeting the illuminate

 “So, is this illuminate we speaking are they bad guys or good?” dean glance at Ultron warily

America watches as the guys were walked out Sam turns to cas “take care of that kid” he node at America “its going to be okey”.

The winds blow harshly on the mountain tops as orange glow portals open Wong step out of it behind from him you step out. The wundagore stand proud and tall carved with stones “you couldn’t portal us up there”

“My magic can only take us here; master of mystic’s arts is not welcomed here. It’s a forbidden ground.”

You thrust your hands to side lifting yourself above as we as Wong and levitate to the temple, as you enter you could see carving of symbols and spells on stones some of the pillars have broken missing parts.

“Eons ago, the first demon, chthon, carved his dark magic into the tomb “he speaks as you taken the tomb. Some of the stones fall down but you and Wong continue walking after casting final glance at behind “there is no telling what soulless monstrosities lies within”

You let the red mist lit the fire cauldron in the corners all around when you lit one behind Wong, a creature that reside in the tomb stalk towards you with loud roar, Wong summon shields to defend him as one more come and when the last giant creature revels itself you levitate yourself to on to the stone table.

Your breath heavy and prepare yourself for the fight as three close the distance and both to your and Wong’s surprise they kneel Infront of you holding left hand to the right side of them “they’ve been waiting for me”

You look down at Wong glancing back at the statue that oddly similar to you “this isn’t a tomb” the red glow on your palm “it’s a throne”

Sam, dean and Klaus is leading to the illuminate by the Ultron’s, hands cuffed. They get pushed into the room.

“Sam Winchester dean Winchester and Klaus Mikaelson, you are now called before the illuminati. I, Baron Karl Mordo, the sorcerer supreme, do hereby. Captain carter the first avenger, Blackagar Boltagon”

“You all bunch of comic dudes” deans’ eyes wide looking at them “I thought it was captain America?” Sam sigh at his brother comment. “Hidigy hidithere” he said lifting his hands

Karl gives him a look before continuing “captain marvel defender of the cosmos” from a blue teleportation light square a guy turns “and the smartest man alive Reed Richards of the fantastic four”

Dean turns to Sam with a frow “your title is gone”

“Hello dean”

“Fantastic four? Didn’t you guys’ chart in the 60’s”

“Dean just …. Just shut up” Sam said to his brother in a whisper

“I’m sorry, is this a joke to you?” the captain marvel asks dean already not pleased with his behavior

“Well, there’s a guy over there with a fork on his head. So, yeah, a little bit.” Dean answer beside him Klaus chuckle at that 

Black bolt glare at the two and gesture with his hands to keep their mouth shut

“Be grateful black bolt doesn’t engage you in a conversation” captain carter state

“Why does he have bad breath?”

“This dean is even more arrogant than ours” captain America share a smile with captain marvel

“No, just more alive”

Captain marvel recounter “for now”

“I am sorry for their behalf” Sam speaks up finally “we don’t want any trouble. Trust us we don’t even know how we got here. We were just trying to a help a kid”

Reed smile at Sam “Sam, your arrival here confuses and destabilize reality. The larger the footprint you leave behind the greater the risk pf an incursion”

“Incursion?”

“An incursion occurs when the boundary between two universe erodes and they collide destroying one or both entirely” reed tell them in all seriousness

 “The illuminate created to make difficult decisions that no one else could. Today, we’re here to determine what to do with you all and the child” captain carter state

“So, before we vote, if you got anything serious to say, now’s the time” captain marvel says

“Yeah, I do.” Dean walk towards them “if its incursion you’re worried about. Do you seriously think we are a bigger threat than the scarlet witch?”

With great confidence and determination captain marvel look said “oh, we can handle your little witch if she decides to dream walk”

“No. no, you cannot. Not unless you give us the book of vishanti” Sam firmly asserts

“We appreciate your concern, Sam but it’s not the scarlet witch that we fear, from our greatest danger to the multiverse, it turns out is Sam Winchester “

Dean frown as well Sam at the statement wondering what he did wrong

“He what did he do?” Klaus speak for the first time he was trying process everything that happened last couple of hours ago and he didn’t want to talk to the people that massacre his species.

“We should tell him the truth” a new voice said, everyone turns to the voice fancy wheelchair come in the view

“Our final member, professor Charles Xavier”

“What truth?” dean asks aggravated 

“that’s not how our Sam Winchester and Dean Winchester died”.

Series masterlist

Not really satisfied but i think I like it .

[reesespeanutbutterfuck]

she says, “babe, you look so cool.”

(ren honjo x reader)

told tales about your confusing relationship with the trapnest's notorious calm demeanoured guitarist, ren honjo.

content warnings: mentions of sex, allusions to sex, black stones vocalist!reader, pregnancy, mention of reader having a panic attack, mention of ren’s substance abuse, smoking, reader with avoidant attachment, ren with abandonment issues, mutual obsessiveness, mutual possessiveness, toxic relationship, miscommunication, takumi is an asshole as always, spoilers for NANA

songs: robbers - the 1975, habits (stay high) - tove lo, bonnie & clyde - DEAN, casual - chappell roan, creep - radiohead, every girl gets their wish - saint avangeline

—

you cannot explain your relationship with ren honjo.

you'd say it's... anything but ordinary.

even before he left for tokyo, he doesn’t toss you away after you have sex. like how he should.

you’d often wake up in the morning wearing one of his button ups or jackets that smell just like his musky cologne and seven stars cigarettes.

he clothed you so you won’t catch a cold.

even then, ren buys you a lot of gifts and lacy lingeries. when he notices your eyes linger longer on a vivienne westwood necklace, the next day, it’s yours. he gave you a cryptic necklace that spells venus. he worships you like a goddess, hence, venus.

his venus.

you get the cigarette from his mouth and put it on yours. he gets it back and stubs it. he's always been like that. he stubs out his cigarettes whenever you’re with him so you don’t inhale the smoke, even if you smoke too.

in amidst of the chilling dawn, you wonder, why isn’t he dating anyone and seeing some other woman that doesn’t always run away from your feelings like you do?

you tell ren to fool around with other girls and enjoy his youth.

he still doesn’t, anyway. 

he stays over at your house in the weekends and when he has to leave early he leaves you something to eat. with a note reminding you of the things he remembered in your schedule today that you told him the night before.

he cares about your well-being more than you do.

why?

why does he care so much?

everytime you have sex, your primary feeling, or so you think is always nothing but lust. desire. 

but ren… ren’s is love. 

why is he filled with this much love for you? why doesn’t he give up on you?

ren is always one call away.

remember that one night when you were having a panic attack and was breaking down? with one dial on his number, he picks up. after hearing one muffled sob from your line, because you couldn't form even a single word from weeping, he's dashing towards his car in the middle of a heavy rain with nothing but a shoulder for you to lean on.

you hate how he laughs it off whenever you insult him to stave him away from you. you don't really want to push him away, but your avoidant nature leads you to. he knows you don't mean it.

even when you saw him again after he moved to tokyo, his eyes always had a way of finding you amidst the crowd.

that night after trapnest's concert he found you backstage. everything was a blur after. you shouldn't even be here because seeing trapnest's ren honjo with black stones' [y/n] would make a lot of headlines and destroy his image, yet ren doesn't care.

why is he ready to risk everything just to keep you around?

everything happened quickly. how he pulled you to the side away where no one hears or sees, how you ended up in his house, how he hugged you for the first time after years.

“[y/n], i lo–” you cover his mouth.

“don't. don't say anything.”

he removed your hand from his mouth. “i love you.”

“i said don’t!”

“i get high just to keep my mind off you. you’re only one i want and desire. i love you. i’ve always had–” you cut him off with a kiss.

and then it so happens that one kiss turns into a passionate one, and leads to another, and another.

it was hard to stop.

he was addictive.

maybe the fact that he acts up on the way he wants you, added to the passionate warmth he ignites inside you. something no one has ever made you feel because everyday the universe reminds you you were always unwanted and that's all you'll ever be.

the following morning, you hear a soft moan from his lips while you were sitting on the corner of his bed and buttoning your clothes that were discarded on the floor last night, careful not to wake him up. when you were about to stand up, you felt ren’s hand tugging yours. he didn't say anything, he just held your hand.

“i'm sorry, did i wake you up?”

“stay…” there was something somber in ren's eyes.

“you know i can’t.”

so he lets go of your hand with a forlorn smile.

he expected it, and he understands. yet somehow, he still hopes… he hopes you would.

from there, everytime you leave in the morning after a long night of multiple rounds of sex, he hugs the sheets smittenly to pretend like you were still there. it still smells like you.

yasu and the others eventually found out you and ren were seeing each other like that again. yasu knows way more than he shows. you know he does. he knows about ren's strong regard for you. you didn't. you pretended not to.

which is why you were shocked when nobu's tongue slips and he accidentally blathers, “ren wanted you for so long. it’s crazy. all of these years and yet still you’re the only one he wants and ever wanted. did you cast a love spell on him or something?”

you think about what nobu said a million times everyday.

so much that you wish you hadn't heard it.

you once stayed in ren's unit the morning after for the first time while he went out and answered the door on takumi while wearing one of ren’s white shirts and boxers. you called ren's phone to let him know his bandmate’s here. ren told you to stay there and he’ll be coming as fast as he can. he knows you and takumi do not get along.

takumi sat across you on ren’s couch. “so, what's your relationship with him?” came his condescending question. you can tell he was looking down on you.

what, indeed?

“what's it to you?” you answered with the same monotonous tone.

the truth is, you don't have any idea either.

months continued on with you and ren in that set-up. he's still the same calm and goofy ren you knew.

he still remembers every single thing about you. your scent, your favourite food, music, everything.

then ren came with the question you're most afraid of hearing.

“what… are we?”

ren batted an eye up at you while he was hugging your torso and sitting on the bed while you were straddling his lap.

you searched for an answer.

ren took the long silence and your visible uneasiness as the same answer he got from you over the years.

“i’m always up to take this in the long run. but it’s okay if you don’t want to.” as long as you're here, with me. he buried his face on your chest and you two forgot about it.

maybe takumi was right, you’re just using ren.

he’s okay with that.

this is so wrong.

how could he be that cruel to himself?

ren still reminds you to eat. some habits die hard, no?

whenever he eats with you, he even sanitizes your hands for you, with his own hands rubbing yours to spread the sanitizer.

“stop coddling.” you snatched your hand away from him.

ren chuckles, “okay, sorry.”

he keeps an eye on you in band practices. you threaten him that if he doesn't stop distracting himself with your presence, you'll leave. he obliges, but he won’t hesitate to step in if some creep bothers you.

he's possessive of you even if he doesn't show it openly.

but you're somehow possessive of him too.

when you saw a girl touching his shoulders, you wanted to chop her hand off.

“i’ve been deprived of everything my whole life. now, even my ren?” ren overhears you talking to yourself. your ren, huh?

“i’m sorry, ren.” you pecked a kiss on his lips after you told him to date other girls after you got jealous. “will you forgive me?”

he pulls you into a hug, “it’s okay, i forgive you.” he kisses your cheek. “i never said i don’t love you anymore.” he kisses the side of your neck. “why are you giving me away, anyway? if you’re jealous, be jealous. tell me and i’ll do something about it. don’t give me away like that.” he kisses the side of your head.

such big words for someone who is afraid of communication himself, thought ren.

he’s subtly affectionate to you in public places like when he lays his head on your lap in standby backstage and one of the members of the management asks nobu if you’re dating in which nobu answers “it’s complicated.”

you always turn him down whenever he asks you to stay, but once, he said “i could never refuse you.” while patting your head and hugging you after when you asked him to stay the night.

when you woke up first, you brushed his hair up and planted a kiss on his forehead.

i love you, ren.

three words you can’t say. 

rather, words you’re afraid to say.

ren was always very open with the idea of having a kid with you. but he wouldn’t force you to.

why would he want a future with you?

takumi dislikes you, obviously. you couldn't care less about him, anyway. you hate him with the same passion. he tried to knock sense on ren one time. it didn't go as he planned.

“i see your woman’s quite a catch.” takumi puffs his cigarette.

“of course.” ren replied.

“but she's quite like a closeted harlot.”

he's wrong. you never had anyone else after ren.

ren's ears tingled and his eyes darkened upon hearing what takumi said. “are you insulting her?”

“don’t get me wrong. the way i see it, she doesn’t seem emotionally involved with you. it seems to me that you’re the only one who is in your relationship, whatever you two are. if i know, i’d say she only wants sex and not love. you’re okay with that?” takumi chuckles.

ren raises his head. “so be it. i couldn’t care less.” if that’s what it takes to keep you around him.

“i’m just warning you, dude.” takumi raises both his hands in a defensive manner. “women like that, they're for the streets–”

ren, for once lost his calm demeanour and threw a shot glass at the nearest wall. the loud sound of the glass shattering startled everyone around them. even reira who was recording a demo of one of their tracks.

ren's face was settled into a death stare. it was scarier than a face that really showed anger. his fists clenched after the burst of anger he let out and takumi was taken aback by the unexpected behavior of his usually composed bandmate.

“i don’t want to hear you talk about her ever again.” he coldly turned his back on his bandmate to go outside and calm himself down.

ren rarely gets mad. but when it's about you...

you don’t even get into fights often because ren stays out of drama and he avoids confrontations. which is why he's prone to keeping his emotions to himself instead of expressing them. he's very non-confrontational.

his desire to take your relationship to the next step was strong, but the desire to keep you around him was stronger. he knows he’ll drive you away if he mentions about tying the knot in a serious talk.

he likes using any products with your signature scent. it makes him feel like you’re there with him everywhere he goes.

“ren, you smell like white wine and strawberries, just like a girl!” was what reira told him upon stepping inside the room while sniffing him. “it leaves a scent trail. it smells familiar. what perfume are you using?”

ren turned to her, “it's [y/n]’s shower gel.”

“[y/n]? from black stones? woah, you stay at her place?” naoki stood up from his seat. ren entertained their questions for a little while.

it goes the same for you too in band practices too.

“is that ren’s perfume on you?” nobu speaks from behind you, smelling the familiar scent of his friend on you.

“no.”

“but…” nobu scans your figure. “oh. it’s because you’re wearing his shirt.”

you didn’t even smell how the shirt smelled like ren. it’s just your nostrils got so used to his scent that it didn’t even register to you how you didn’t smell like yourself.

your relationship was unstable and full of uncertainties, and you hate being emotionally vulnerable in front of anyone, even him.

sometimes, you want to leave.

“ren.”

“hm?”

but then you embrace him and suddenly, you’re reminded how strong your feelings are for ren honjo.

he stares at your face longer than he should in the morning when he wakes up first and you’re sleeping soundly next to him.

you’re beautiful. like you came straight out of a magazine.

if you were to be put beside supermodels, you’d outshine everyone. ren revels at the thought. if your face were to be featured in a magazine, he’ll frame it and keep it forever.

ren mutes all phone calls when he’s sleeping with you. but when he goes on tour, his mind is there back at home with you.

“i didn’t know booty calls worry what the other person eats. is that how people do it nowadays? so modernized, truly shocking.” came takumi’s remark while talking to reira and naoki out of ren's earshot.

“that’s so mean, takumi. leave him alone.” reira glared at him, having flashbacks of when he offended ren when he was talking to him about you. her eyes were also on ren who's on the phone with you.

you'll always come back to him, he’ll always be waiting for you to go to his arms. you two are hopeless.

more time passed and you're finally decided to take a step forward, which ren was only waiting for you to initiate.

one snowy night while you and ren were sharing each other's heat, you hovered on top of him.

ren stops you. “wait,”

“do you not want to?” you were prepared to get off him in case he doesn't want to do it, but he held you in place.

“it’s not like that. it’s just…” he trailed, “i do want a family with you more than anything. i have never denied that. but if you’re off the pill right now then…”

“so what?”

“i don’t want you to get pregnant if you don’t want to. what i say doesn’t matter. decide for yourself.”

“i want your child, inside me, ren.”

he was about to tell you to think it through again, but you put his hand on your hip. “let's start a family.”

and once again, he can never deny you of anything.

after weeks, you didn't take the news well about hachi and that asshole, takumi.

“one of these days, i’ll snatch hachi back from you.” you told him.

“are you in love with my fiancèe even after everything, [y/n]? i pity ren for being ardent with his love for you. dump him if you can’t love him back like that. he doesn’t deserve your half-assed love.” takumi smirks, enjoying how riled up he makes you while relaying the news.

you thought you were just crazy when you gone through a deep state of grief after that conversation.

but you found out another cause were your hormones.

you're pregnant.

when you told ren you were pregnant, he reacted to the news calmly yet he was ecstatic. he's been waiting for this moment with you all along.

you chose not to tell ren about the conversation you had with takumi about hachi only a few days ago that put you in distress. you know he'd do something about it, and that'll cause more problems for him.

nothing much changed for the first few weeks, you continued on with your gigs while your belly wasn't showing yet and you can still move around normally.

ren stopped his substance abuse when he learned he'll be stepping into fatherhood.

yasu always keeps a close eye on you especially whenever ren is not around, even without ren's instructions. he's always there to aid you whenever you need something, which rarely ever happens because your pride doesn't let you ask for help from anyone. yasu still insists, anyway.

nobu speaks to your not-so-showing yet belly under your edgy peplum top and tells your kid to not grow like his or her mom, you, all gloom and grumpy. he earns a smack on his head in return. he's still in a state of grief himself after how unfortunate his relationship with hachi ended up, but he's happy to be a soon-to-be-uncle to your child.

shin follows you everywhere like a puppy. he accompanies you to your walk to you and ren's shared unit and he stays over whenever he wants to. sometimes falling asleep comfortably on your lap while you watch light-hearted movies on the tv.

when you started showing, you took a break from the band for a few months but you didn't disclose your pregnancy to the media, announcing that it's only a hiatus.

when your belly started to get bigger, your clothes fitted small to you, which is why to maximize their use, you let shin have his way with your closet. you had somehow similar versatile fashion styles, anyway. because of his small frame, almost everything in your wardrobe fits him. you told him to grab whatever he wants to borrow from your closet.

ren is there every step of the way. he buys you a lot of food. whatever you need, he'll go through hell to get.

he'd give his trapnest career up if ever he gets put in a situation where he has to choose.

when you gave birth, everyone visited.

everyone... but hachi.

you try not to think about her anymore, but you still wonder about her whereabouts. you told ren and the others to stop talking about her in front of you when you were pregnant so it became a sensitive topic for everyone to talk about. and besides, you know another factor is also because takumi locks her away.

you only overheard from yasu that hachi gave birth to her child with takumi too, a few months before you gave birth to venus.

ren used to call you his venus.

your daughter’s name is venus.

venus honjo.

it's a pretty name the both of you agreed on giving such a pretty girl like your daughter.

you always opt to eat healthy while breastfeeding.

ren is a good father to venus. she's more close to her father, that's why her first word was “dada”.

he gave your daughter everything the both of you never had, and you protected your daughter from the things no one protected you from when you were younger.

you were extra gentle with her because you too, were a little girl once, and she doesn't have to go through the same pain you went through during girlhood.

ren got deja vu when he was coddling venus and she snatched her arm from him.

“i kept praying she wouldn’t take after you. i guess her mama’s genes are stronger as expected.” ren laughed after what just happened. the engagement ring on his finger shining under the morning sunlight made you look at yours.

you ended up with him after everything.

and yet the words to describe your relationship with ren honjo are still nowhere to be found.

'she’s an angel,

a goddess.

my goddess.

like venus.

a beauty.'

***

© reesespeanutbutterfuck 2024, don't forget to support your creators by reblogging !

[a1ecmcdowell]

── DAHLIA'S JRNL!!

updated frequently! shoutout to the person who reminded me i need one ily bad

if something isn't on here just give me like 48 hours to remember i have this 😭 or if u want something added like ( short n sweet x obx i just got lazy before i could ) pls tell me!!

i'll make a taglist form sometime eventually too i cannot rn im knocked out dead from making this

u are responsible for what u read!! everything is tagged 18+ where it needs to be, but i cannot control what u choose to read & will not be held responsible for ur actions thank YEEWW

AFTERCARE . . . !

abt, rockstar!jensen & ballet dancer!reader. 4/14 parts out - slow updates

. . . tracklist!

masterpost ( includes general cw's! )

one, good girl faith.

two, should run for the hills.

three, half-past five.

four, sorry that u love me!

THE REAPER . . . !

abt, 1940s!soldier boy & male supe!oc. 4/?? parts out - slow updates

. . . table of contents!

masterpost ( includes general cw's! )

00. intro

01. beggars, choosers

02. put it in a pipe & smoke it!

03. festering feelings

04. oh, how he burns

05. event of the fuckin' century

DEAN x SAGA . . . !

abt, au!dean & au!reader. 4 aus - updated frequently

. . . mechanic!dean & bimbo!reader!

reader called princess.

👠 headcanons 1.0

👠 all the times princess humbled dean

👠 old habits die hard

. . . dean winchester x angel!reader!

reader called dove.

🕊️ innocence is a virtue

🕊️ take a shot or six

. . . bonnie!reader x clyde!dean!

reader called sugar.

💰 the name of the game, baby!

. . . fallen angel!dean x sweet!reader!

reader called bunny.

🐇

SHARDS OF ME . . . !

abt, failed transgenic!dean & guardian!alec. 1/3 parts out - I WILL UPDATE THIS AGAIN EVENTUALLY

. . . file!

one.

two.

three.

[writingwrongwjc]

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: While out drinking with the boys one night following a hunt the reader drinks a little more than she anticipated, going shot for shot with Dean. Sloppily blurring the lines between her and Sam’s relationship.

AN: Unedited Drabble; sorry if this one has any grammer errors I wrote it quickly to pass some time on a road trip!

“One more round for the two of us sweetheart! Oh, and this one’s on her,” Dean smirked at the bartender while side-eyeing you.

“It is not you jerk. I’m not paying for these! But I will happily take another! ” You spit out all at once, stumbling into your excitement as you find a secure crutch on the stool in front of you, snatching the small glass off of the counter top. Some cheap silver tequila, you wouldn’t bother to remember the name of if even you could.

Dean clinks the small glass against yours, before smacking it down against the wooden bar top, and then tilting his head back to choke down the liquor. You watch him for a second before you do the same. This time not wincing at the taste. In fact you could hardly feel it anymore, instead overwhelmed by an entirely different feeling. Your body embraced with a rush of heat as you drift into your thoughts for a moment. Deepened by a familiar warm scent behind you. Woody florals with a spicy twist.

“Okay guys, last one. I’m serious.” His familar voice spoke sternly, startling you away from the stool you had been leaning into. Whiping around you quickly realized it was Sam and your gaze softened cocking your head up at him with a smile creeping across your face.

“You said that an hour ago!”

“And I meant it then, you just didn’t listen.” His eyebrows twisted and his jaw tightened as he looked at you.

“Oh come on don’t be a crankapotamus! And don’t blame me, blame beavus over here! He keeps buying them... I simply don’t want to be wasteful,” you tease.

“Or is he butthead?”

“Y/n…” he tried to remain serious but cracked when he looked into your eyes. “He’s beavus, you’re butthead.”

Dean would have much prefered to be compared to any other duo; Mulder and Scully, Shaggy and Scooby, Bonnie and Clyde even. Although Sam was right to turn your own joke against you. When the two of you got togther it was always chaos. Dean though, could not protest his involment in a chaotic duo as he slipped away conviently when Sam approahed the two of you.

You let out a giggle at his unexpected retort. Driving your weight shoulder first into his abdomen to push him, his figure unmoving as you sway backwards. He reaches out gingerly, placing a hand mere inches from your back to make sure he can grab you if you fall but not yet touching you to ensure your comfort.

“Woah, careful I’m your ride home, you wouldn’t wanna hurt me,” he let out a chuckle at his own joke.

“Oh no you poor baby I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think of my own strength, I could have killed you with my large stature and broad shoulders.” You stitched your brows together pouting your lips up at him.

Lettting silence linger for no more than a second before an idea bombarted your thoughts. Your eyes darkening up at him.

“I could kiss it better for you Sammy.” You say, tracing from his chest up to his shoulder until you are practically draped around him.

His face stiffens, eyes wide as he inhales sharply. Taking your hands off of his shoulders down into his own gently. He looks into your eyes with a bitter sweetness, with an emotion you can’t quite predict. Your heart pounds in your chest awaiting what he’ll say next.

“Why don’t we wait until morning hm? You can kiss it better… and then some… if you still want to.” He tilts his head ever so slightly with a warm cheeky smile.

[kiiyunz]

what are you listening to? ☆

kihyun likes music as much as the next person. he’s not picky about what he listens to—what he likes, he likes, although he doesn’t make much of an effort keep up with new releases from people who aren’t in his slightly preferred circle of genres. he’ll shazam without shame, lean over as many people as he needs in order to peer onto uber stereos for a glance at what’s playing on the radio, and has quipped once that he’d be making his living as a ‘what are you listening to’ tiktokker in an alternate timeline.

genre-wise, he mainly listens to rap, pop, and dance (or just electronic in general). in terms of favourite artists, the ones he’ll mention the most are azealia banks, michael jackson, exo, f(x), and gsoul. some more that have begun to crop up more in his playlists include rihanna, tomorrow x together, miguel, and frank ocean. and, finally, when asked about his absolute favourite song, he’ll most likely say “miss amor. or.. wait.. and gravity!”—by azealia banks & miguel respectively.

at a glance ★ kihyun’s spotify

he has five main playlists (despite one of them being named ‘PLAYLIST #7’—he just thought it sounded cool) that, despite him attempting to keep loose themes for each of them, have ended up all vaguely jumbled in one way or another. their covers are a mix of photos he’s stolen from pinterest and ones that he’s taken himself (namely the cover of ‘423,’ one of his favourite pictures of jeno).

playlist rundown ☆

‘클럽 클래식’⠀(club classics—very much a reference) is for everything & anything. old, new, any genre, any language. it’s unsorted and he doesn’t intend on organising it any time soon (although he does occasionally sit and rearrange them by the colour of their covers). if he hears a song in the club, if one of mark’s recommendations really resonate with him, if he’s taking blind suggestions and needs somewhere to put them in order for him to listen later—this is where it all goes. made in 2016, ones he finds himself listening to more than once include forever yours—brent faiyaz, flowers—sweet female attitude, and 魂の叫び—soul scream.

‘FOR K’⠀is for him—not that any of the others aren’t, but in this one they’re just more so. they’re songs that are close to his heart, that mean something special to him for a whole variety of reasons. they’re words he can’t say, feelings he can’t describe—or just sounds he really, really likes. sometimes he’ll grow out of a few and do some reshuffling, (or take a screenshot and send it to chenle so they can both laugh at what he was listening to as a teenager) but for the most part it’s always been a hub for all his favourite favourites. ever since 2013, his soft spots lie for songs like crazy for you—gsoul, chasing time—azealia banks, me+u—f(x), get on the floor—michael jackson, and i want it all—arctic monkeys.

‘423’⠀is for jeno. he’s never told him about it (and doesn’t intend to, because he dreads the relentless teasing he’ll receive if any of the others find out) but it’s still for him. it’s a collection of all the music that makes him think ‘jeno,’ and whether it’s lyric-wise or a two-second-long instrumental moment, he’ll put it on there. first made in 2018, some of his favourites include bonnie & clyde—dean, sweet lies—exo, lost—frank ocean, and james joint—rihanna.

‘PLAYLIST #7’⠀is for his friends & members—both in a ‘my-friends-made-these-songs’ way and a ‘these-songs-make-me-think-of-my-friends’ way. mainly kpop, with the occasional heartfelt anthem thrown in every once in a while, he’ll usually listen whenever he’s feeling a little down—thinking about those he loves is a surefire way to make him feel better, after all. circa 2017, his top picks from this list include drama—txt, anl—nct dream, and glow—kelis.

‘###’⠀is for rap, mainly. he’s found a lot over the years, and just.. likes it. one of his goals is to make a full-rap song of his own, but while he plans and practices and brainstorms, he’ll be listening to something from this list instead. mark or johnny is his go-to person whenever he finds a new song by a western rapper he likes the sound of, asking if they know anything about them or listen to them themselves (the answer is usually no or sometimes. to say he was disappointed when he found out johnny prefers coldplay was an understatement). first created in 2018, faves from this playlist include i serve the base—future, fell in luv—playboi carti, body language—doja cat, and hazard duty pay!—jpegmafia.