#c's blogiversary

[ghostly-sunflower]

[happy 1month blogiversary for Gwen!!!!!!! heres a weird skit prompt thingy i wrote on my notes app] [this wasn't planned as an open starter, but if anyone wants to expand upon this with their creative juices, go right ahead <3]

Gwen's back hit the wall with a sickening crunch, her breath leaving her in strangled gasps.

Doc Ock, the anomaly she was fighting, smiled at her, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

He was the standard evil, sure, but there was something different about him. Something more cold and calculating compared to the other Doc Ock's she had fought.

He seemed arrogant. Like he knew something Gwen didn't.

So Gwen pushed herself off the ground--her arms shaking as she prepared for another round--and launched herself at her enemy, her fist raised high.

Before her spidey-sense could warn her, Doc Ock's arms had sprung out from behind him, one grabbing Gwen's arms and tying them to her torso, and the other grabbing her chin, forcing her to look him straight in the face.

He brought her close, the smile on his face no longer there. It was somber. Was he faking it?

What was he going to do with her?

Instead of violence, he examined her, scrutinizing everything that was visible on her body.

Gwen's nose wrinkled, sniffling in the blood that she hadn't realized had started dripping, "Ha... what? Judging my fashion sense?"

Her fingers started to work under his weird octopus arm, trying to pry her hands out of his tight grip so she would be able to press her web-shooters.

"Didn't realize you Doc Ock's even knew what fashion was-"

He cuts her off before she can finish, the words turning her blood cold.

"Do you blame yourself?"

Gwen's mouth slacked, "...what?"

The confusion seemed to encourage him, and he raised his head high, moving his face away from hers.

"Well, it's common for a person to feel a sort of... guilt."

Gwen swallowed thickly, shaking her head and now struggling with her whole body to get out of his grip, "Come on man," her heart pounded wildly in her chest, her breathing becoming frantic, "c-come on. This isn't funny."

She looked down at her torso, the arm only serving to tighten around her further. Doc Ock's smile returns, knowing he's got her.

"What are you talking about...?" Gwen dares to ask, her entire body pounding from the hot fire running through her blood. She could barely think straight, everything now seeming like a whir.

"The Accident."

His words douse her like acid, running down her back in blazing fire trails.

The...Accident.

Gwen's breath forced itself out of her, her mind running a projection in her head as her body goes slack.

Peter.

Her Peter.

She remembers fighting the Green Goblin--fighting him-- watching him die.

It was all her fault.

If she was a better person, a better friend. If she had let him in, this could have all been avoided.

But she didn't.

A shiver ran through her body.

She still remembers the scream that tore through her that night.

Raw and raspy and so full of rage towards everyone, but especially herself. That night left a bleeding, gaping wound in her chest.

And she never let it close...likes to pick at it to keep it bleeding to remind herself why she doesn't do friends anymore.

Until Miles had come around, helping her stitch together that wound.

Miles.

She betrayed him.

Betrayed him for a society she thought she could trust.

But instead he lost his trust in her, and she was sent back to her world, to her father.

He's better now--she swears--but sometimes, in the dark, she'll get scared of his shadow, remembering how he came up behind her in the rubble with his gun raised towards her.

Towards Spider-Woman.

She remembers her hands shaking, trying not to drop the mask that protected her identity. The mask that had separated her two worlds from her father.

She had pulled it off for him, and then he raised his gun at her instead. His Gwen.

And so she remembers leaving. Which had started this entire mess in the first place.

Would this all have changed if she had let Peter in? If she had let him know who she was?

Would she want to go back and change it all if-

The feeling of a needle sliding into her neck made Gwen snap back to reality, having completely ignored her blaring spidey-sense to realize Doc Ock had slipped a needle into her.

The world seemed hazy now... everything whirling around her at a sickening speed.

Gwen closed her eyes, feeling slightly nauseous, and didn't open them again.

[brighteststar707]

Request for the blogiversary event for @princessjung!

Naturally Gravitating Closer Together

✦ GE Saeran x Fem!MC

✦ Words: 784

It is a fact well-known amongst the members of the RFA that if you are looking for Saeran, you will always find his love close by. It started as a joke, but it has proven true more often than not.  

From the outside, they resemble two magnets, always drawn back to each other when pulled apart. It started out as a genuine fear of losing each other when they were dealing with his father and all the dangers surrounding them. Even when things looked dire, they had each other, and being close was a way to reassure themselves of each other’s safety.

At least they could hold on to each other when everything else was hanging in the balance.

It has since evolved into being about the simple comfort they can provide each other. They might not be in danger anymore (even though that fear is taking some time to unlearn), but they still feel a need to be close to each other. Put them in a room – an RFA meeting, for example – and even if they start on opposite sides of the room, they will subconsciously drift back towards each other and meet again in the middle.

It’s something the RFA like to tease them about, but even they can’t deny the happiness radiating from the two of them. It’s almost contagious. 

From Saeran's perspective, they feel more like two puzzle pieces, incomplete unless they are together. Sure, they can function by themselves, but the absence of the other will always be in the back of their minds, an unpleasant emptiness that can only be filled by the presence of their love. 

So, they are always together – or on their way to each other.

This was true the first time they met, when the RFA found the two of them sitting together, holding hands. They didn’t once leave each other’s side as they introduced themselves officially.  

This was true throughout the hunt for Saeyoung, when there was a table in the surveillance room at C&R that was theirs in all but name (often claimed by their set of matching mugs and stack of papers). For hours they’d sit there and pore over the information they were receiving and discussing different courses of action, shuffling closer every hour until they were touching. At the end of each day, the chairs would always end up together on one side of the table.

This was true even after they rescued Saeyoung, when they were making efforts to leave the past behind them and move forward into a life that they could shape for themselves. Even though their new home had enough rooms for them all to have their own spaces, they were rarely apart.

If Saeran was cooking something, it wouldn’t take long for her to appear by his side, offering to help and sneaking little bites of the dishes he was making. On movie nights, despite the sofa being big enough for them both to stretch out on, they always end up tucked up against each other (and often asleep under their pile of blankets). Even out in the garden, they could be found working together and admiring the fruits of their labour.

It’s subtle, but when they are apart, they still look for each other. Whether it’s reaching for each other out of habit and grasping empty air or subconsciously looking for them in a crowd.

Saeran can read her like a book. He thinks it’s cute when she tries to be subtle and hide her thoughts, but he can tell what she’s thinking from just the look on her face. They have developed a language of their own, love expressed through reassuring touches to remind them that they are not alone.

All it takes is a glance that asks are you alright? And her squeezing his hand to say I’m okay.

There is comfort in being able to understand each other so well. He knows her tells, just as she knows his. The little signs she gives when she's uncomfortable or struggling. He wastes no time getting to her when he notices that she's upset and wraps her in his arms. He may not be able to solve all her problems for her, much as he wishes he could. But she nestles against his chest and in some ways it's enough to have each other to hold on to.

In the good times and in the bad. There is one thing they can trust, and it's that where one goes, the other won't be far behind.

[young-royals-confessions]

Tomorrow is my one year blogiversary. I want to order a cake to celebrate, but I can't decide which one. What do you think?

Sorry I couldn't get a better photo of the third cake, but I have been assured it's jättegod.

[citrinesparkles]

six in the morning.

jason todd x gender neutral reader. 503 words. notes: requested by the lovely @jason-redhood for my blogiversary celebration how was may so long ago??? i hope you enjoy, lovely <3 warnings: none i can think of!

"c'mon, bedtime."

he chuckled before speaking quietly. "what am i, five?'

"jason," you said firmly, moving around his chair to lean against the table, effectively blocking the lamp from shining on the papers in his hand. "it's six in the morning."

his brow twitched ever so slightly, subtly confirming your belief that he had lost track of time. he sighed, leaning back in his chair and dropping the papers unceremoniously beside you before looking up to meet your gaze. "okay."

"which is bedtime."

"then go to bed."

"i was in bed. i slept."

he smiled, a charming thing- sweet eyes steady, tanned cheeks squishing upwards, lips elegantly curling- and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. "i'm so glad, gorgeous. did you sleep well?"

"well enough to know when you're trying to distract me."

"hey," time for stage two: the chair slid back, and suddenly your boyfriend was the picture of innocent concern as he stood up and gently slid his hands onto your hips. "i'm not allowed to ask about your rest?"

you welcomed his touch with a warm hum, bringing your own hands to his chest. "not as a misdirection, no."

he hesitated, watching your eyes for a moment. "it wasn't just a misdirection."

'i know," you said quietly, "that you care about me, jason. i'm asking you to care about yourself, here."

"i do."

"weird way of showing it."

"i was working."

"and i think it's time to be done."

he looked past you towards the window with a hint of a glare in his eyes, almost as if trying to intimidate the sun into reversing its rise. the thought made nearly made you laugh- nearly.

you fought to bite back the sound. this was serious business.

you couldn't show weakness, not when he was so close to giving in. not when his shoulders had softened ever-so-slightly, and you could see him weighing his options.

"hm..."

"hm?"

"are you going back to bed?"

"only if you are. i was hoping to get an hour or so of sleep next to you before i start my day," you responded, voice gentle and hopeful before it shifted into something more serious. "but if you really need to get more done, i understand, jason."

he hummed appreciatively, glancing from you to the papers littering the table and back again. "i can probably afford an hour or so."

"perfect," you grinned, pulling back and dropping your hands to the small of his back. "then you-" you pulled and pushed gently, prompting him to turn around, and he humored you- "put your work away, and i'll go make sure i didn't kick the pillows across the room when i got up."

he let you push him towards the table, your hands lingering near his spine as you kissed the back of his neck before muttering quietly.

"thank you."

"mhm. i'll be right in, try not to fall asleep before i get there."

"guess you'd better hurry, then, handsome," you called, heading towards the bedroom.

[pumpkin-stars]

Pitch Black

Din Djarin/GN!Reader. Smut (+ fluff).

Request: HAPPY BLOGIVERSARY BABE OMG. I must request for the occasion. As Din seems to be open still, may I have just. The most self indulgent combination fluff and/or smut this earth has ever seen. Both is great, but one or the other will also be accepted and wonderful and valid - for @irrelevantbutembarrassing 💖💖

Word Count: 533

Warnings/Content: penetration, making love in the dark, established relationship, the Razor Crest’s bed is too small.

The fourth of 12 drabbles for my 1 year tumblr anniversary :)

You can’t see anything.

There’s no blindfold, nothing over your face to hide a view, it’s just… very dark.

It’s a cramped space, and with no sight your other senses are heightened. The beeping of the ship, the engines rumbling all around you, the soft-yet-firm mattress under your back, the soft-yet-firm body above you, the ragged breaths from him, the breathless gasps from you.

You can’t see anything, but you know exactly where he is, every little movement he makes.

The twitch of his hands against your sides, running up and over your chest. His legs between yours (and the walls against either side). His forehead against yours, the pressure of his nose nudging your cheek, the hot panted praises hitting your skin. His cock sliding in and out of you, rolling thrusts where he never truly leaves you, keeps you as close as possible, afraid that you might somehow get away in the dark.

“Cyar’ika…” The deep voice, deeper still with arousal and desperation, the movement of his head, face pressed into your neck, kisses left against your pulse as his stubble scrapes the skin, moustache tickling torturously against you. “You’re- so tight-”

“Din-“

The feel of his bare skin beneath your hands, of muscle and softness, the crisscrossing of constellations of scars and freckles, mapped out by your fingertips in the light, traced again here in the dark, only the memory of them guiding your path. The plains of his back, those too-broad shoulders and tight waist… his proportions exaggerated under the beskar, the curve of his ass, tensed as he thrusts, unable to relax completely except in deepest sleep.

“So good,” He pants, kissing up your jaw before returning to your lips, never faltering in his rhythm. He rests his forehead against yours again, kissing without stealing breath, and reaches between your legs to stroke at your most sensitive point. “Can you feel me, cyare?”

“Yes, Din-“ you whisper, trailing your hands up his back to clutch at his shoulders, pulling him down onto you, as close as you can possibly get, “so good.”

He smiles. You can’t see it, but you feel it in the shift of his muscles, his shoulders lifting up toward his ears a little, the tiny raise of his eyebrows and the sensation of his face moving so close to yours. 

He shifts again, sideways, holding your hip in his free had as the other works over you, and grunts. “Dank farrik-“

“What?” You frown, “Din?”

“Kriffing bed. Too small to roll us over.” He huffs, shifting so he’s above you properly again, “Wanna watch you ride me.”

“You can’t see anything,” you point out.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t watch.” He kisses you, “the same way you’re watching me now. The way you know me.”

“Next time, cyare,” you whisper, hands slipping around to hold his cheeks, tracing his features, “I’ll ride you wherever and however you want.”

He grins, nods, “We can do everything we do with the lights on in the dark, see how different it feels. How easily I can use my mouth when I can’t see you.” You gasp, “But for now,” he matches your volume, “I wanna make you cum.”

~~~

Taglist: @99sth @amneris21 @apascalrascal @cocolovesorcs @darnitdraco @elegantduckturtle @fisforfulcrum @goldielocks2004 @horreid​ @idreamofboobear @iifloweringnightsii​ @im-a-mcsimp-for-mchotties​ @irrelevantbutembarrassing​ @jitterbugs927 @joanofarkansass​ @kaybrownies​ @mypedrom​ @pedrostories​ @phrog-seeds @readsalot73​ @salome-c​ @santiagogarcia​ @starxdame​ @the-little-ewok​ @the-scandalorian​ @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland​ @tobealostwanderer​ @yours-truly-r​   

[wayward-dreamer]

A Moment Of Peace

Square Filled: Voyeurism

AO3 Link: Read Here

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Word Count: 6,028 (prompt in bold)

Rating: Explicit - 18+!

Summary: All Dean wanted was a moment to himself, but a chance encounter in the Men of Letters bathroom may grant him everything he’s ever wanted. Set between 14.03 The Spear and 14.04 Mint Condition.

Warnings: Swearing, Minor Angst, Male Masturbation, Voyeurism, Getting caught, Brief handjob, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Brief spanking (twice), p in v, Unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it, people), Shower sex, Dirty talk, Fluff.

Created for @spnkinkbingo

A/N: This was written for @anaelsbrunette‘s 20th Birthday Bash and Blogiversary! Hope you like it, lovely! Thanks @deanwanddamons for beta’ing this for me! 

Dividers by @talesmaniac89 

It had been a week since Dean got back. One week since Michael left his body to do god knows what out in the world. One week since he got back to the Bunker.

A bunker that was full of people he didn’t know. Yeah sure, they saved them from another world that had been worse off than theirs, but he didn’t know them. Nor did he really want to get to know them. They seemed like nice people, good hunters… but after what he had been through, being stuck inside his own body while Michael did whatever he wanted, he just wanted to forget about it.

He wanted to roam the hallways in silence, eat his food and drink his beer and whiskey in peace and go out and hunt with Sam when he was ready. However, instead of doing that, he had resigned himself to his room, retreating there after brief interactions with everyone. There were just too many of them and quite frankly, he was overwhelmed.

He needed to get out of his head and relax. That was easier said than done these days.

As being resigned to his room had left it looking like a bomb went off, Dean knew he had to do something about it. He certainly wasn’t a neat freak like Sammy and his hospital-corners bed-making, but he did like some order, especially in his own room.

It had taken him nearly all day, but he had finally gotten his room into some sort of organization. He had to leave every now and then to throw things in the trash, and every time he was out in the main parts of the Bunker, one of the new hunters would ask him something. He only ever had one answer – ask Sam. Or Chief, as they called him. He knew no matter how much he denied it, Sam liked having a leadership role. If Dean was being honest, it suited him. The name was kind of overkill, though.

With every trip out of his room, Dean hoped to run into Y/N. She was still busy settling people in and making sure they have everything they need, even weeks after they had rescued them. He just wanted to spend a little time with his friend and the woman he was completely mad for, even if she didn’t know it.

Y/N had joined them years ago, having saved their asses on a vamp hunt when it turned out to be a nest bigger than they were expecting. At the first sight of her swinging her machete, Dean was ready to take her home, throw her down on the bed and ravish her. It was like an art she had practiced so many times that it was just second nature to her. Somewhere along the way, desire had turned into a deeper affection for her but of course, he couldn’t do anything about it. With the life he led, no one should attach themselves to him.

Stacking his records in alphabetical order, Dean stopped to smirk as he thought about Y/N. Beautiful Y/N with her Y/H/C hair and Y/E/C eyes. Beautiful, unattainable Y/N. She was better off without him; without them. He had no idea why she had stuck around so long.

Deciding that he had cleaned his room enough, Dean picked up his towel from the hooks by the door and walked out of the room, towards the showers. There was nothing like the water pressure in the Men of Letters bathroom. It eased every aching muscle after a long hunt and relaxed the tension in one’s body.

He walked in and closed the door behind him, relieved that no one else was occupying the room and that he would have a moment to himself. He walked into the large bathroom, moving past all the cubicles and settling on the last one for even more privacy. He tossed the towel over one of the tiled shower walls and moved over to the sink, humming his favourite Zeppelin song as he went. He leaned down and unlaced his boots, groaning tiredly as the ache in his feet eased once the heavy shoes came off.

As he stripped off the rest of his clothes, his mind wandered back to Y/N. There really wasn’t a day or time that she wasn’t on his mind, and as much as he welcomed it, it was incredibly frustrating to not be able to do anything about it. 

Turning the water on, he stepped underneath the stream, dropping his head and wetting his hair and body.  He sighed heavily as her beautiful face entered his mind. He closed his eyes as he stroked his hands through his hair and soaked it, the image travelling down her neck, to her breasts, her waist and her incredible ass. Through hooded eyes, he looked down to see himself getting aroused at the thought of her.

If there was one sure fire way for the stress to leave his body…

Dean took hold of his cock, leisurely beginning to pump his hand back and forth along the shaft. As he did, his mind couldn’t help but escape to a fantasy of Y/N wrapped around him perfectly, her hips meeting his in the most amazing way. He wished for nothing more than for it to come true. Some day.

He bit into his bottom lip as he began to move his hand a little faster, scared to make a sound and alert the thirty other people in the bunker. He lifted his other hand and pressed it to the shower wall, his jaw clenching as he continued. His mind kept dreaming of her, of her perfect face etched with the pleasure she was feeling because of him.

“Fuck… Y/N” a sharp whisper left his lips followed by a soft moan.

The bunker door shut loudly behind Y/N, as she made her way down the stairs with her arms full of groceries and take-out. The groceries had taken too much time to buy, considering the list was so much longer now that it was more than Sam, Dean, Jack, Cas and her living here. She walked through the hallway and down to the kitchen, seeing a few of the hunters in there, drinking beer while another was making dinner, stirring something inside a large pot on the stove.

She put the bags down on the steel kitchen bench, making sure to keep the take-out separate from the other items. It was for Dean after how much he expressed he wanted some greasy and delicious.

“Here you go,” she said, passing some items to the hunter at the stove.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said, immediately taking the items from her with a smile.

“Have you seen Maggie? I have the batteries she needed for her camera,” she said, in between taking items out of the bags and putting them away.

“No, I haven’t,” he said, without looking at her as he continued to cook.

“And Sam?” she asked, a little frustrated as she looked at the overwhelming number of items.

“Searching for Nick” he replied, his back turned.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she looked around, seeing the other hunters hadn’t bothered tearing themselves away from their own conversation as they nursed their beers.

“Hey,” she said loudly, getting their attention.

Soon, three sets of eyes were staring at her with a small expression of guilt. “Can you guys put these away? I’m going to see where Dean is.”

“Sure thing, Y/N” one of them said as he stood up, making his way over.

“Thanks” she muttered as she walked out of the kitchen and back into the hallway.

Having so many people in the bunker had its good days and its bad days. Sometimes it was nice to hear the hum of chatter throughout the place; it didn’t feel so vast and lonely. On other days, Y/N prayed for silence as she went about helping everyone settle in. It had been several weeks since they had rescued them from the apocalypse world, but they still hadn’t really adjusted properly to this one. Though they all seemed quite cozy in the bunker and Y/N appreciated that it was a mutual space for everyone like it was intended to be when it was built for the Men of Letters, she just wished she had a little time to herself like she used to.

She made her way down the hallway to Dean’s room. She knew seeing him would instantly make her feel better. He had quickly become a great friend once she decided to join them a couple of years ago, but he also quickly made his way into her heart, making her feel things she definitely shouldn’t be feeling about a friend.

However, with a face like his she was ready to tell him to forget being friends and just fuck her instead. Even if it was a one-time deal, she’d take it in a heartbeat.

Y/N frowned as she reached Dean’s room, not finding him at the desk or listening to music on his bed, as was usual. His phone was lying on his bed, so he was definitely in the bunker. She walked a little further and around the corner to the Dean cave, her furrowed eyebrows remaining when she didn’t see him in there either. Wondering if he might be in the garage with his beloved car, she decided to let it go for now. She figured he was somewhere and needed some space, and she was more than happy to give to him after what he had been through. By the time she had a quick shower before dinner, maybe he’d be back.

Making a quick bee-line to her room, she picked up all her essentials for her skincare routine, knowing she hadn’t taken care of it in a while. With her towel hanging over her arm, she wandered the halls, and neared the shower room. She turned the doorknob, sighing in relief to find it unlocked. Closing the door after she entered, she frowned again as she heard one of the showers running. Luckily the Men of Letters shower room was big enough for several cubicles, resembling a dorm bathroom, and whoever was in there had clearly chosen the furthest one, out of anyone’s viewpoint. She would just have to resign herself to bathing with someone still in the large room. She needed to wash away the day and ease the ache in her muscles.

She quickly put her things on the ledge across from one of the cubicles and tied her Y/H/C hair up in a high bun as she looked at herself in the mirror. Stripping off her clothes, she grabbed her towel and hung it over the cubicle wall and turned on the water. She stepped in, a soft sigh leaving her lips as the water hit her body. She stepped a little closer, tilting her head back as the water ran down her neck. However, her head snapped to the side when she heard something. She stopped what she was doing, trying to block out the rush of the cascade, as she listened for the sound again. Her eyes widened as she heard it. A moan followed by a sigh. It was unmistakable to her and she knew instantly what was happening. She made quick work of lathering herself up and washing off, turning the shower off. She yanked her towel off the edge of the cubicle and wiped herself down, wrapping it around her body. She needed to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Y/N quickly and quietly gathered her things, deciding her routine could wait, and almost made it to the door when she heard another moan. Only this time, it was distinctly her name being called out in pleasure. She stopped dead in her tracks, turning around to see if she had heard correctly.

“Y/N,” the voice moaned again. “Fuck.”

Her eyes widened again as she recognized who the voice belonged to. She would know it anywhere.

Dean.

She wasn’t sure what to do.

Should she run or take this as a sign that maybe her feelings might not be one sided? Unless they are, and he’s just being an asshole and riling her up because he knows she’s there?

As Y/N stood there, it became clear that Dean didn’t know she was in the bathroom, continuing his ministrations obliviously. Could that really mean he felt for her what she felt for him? Her confidence level when it came to voicing her feelings was non-existent, but she suddenly felt it settle in as she thought about how to handle this situation. She turned her head to look in the mirror, silently asking herself what she should do. A naughty smile graced her lips as it became clear.

She put her hairbrush and bag of skincare products down by the sink again, rounding her shoulders as she looked at herself in the mirror. With a bounce in her step, she walked quietly past the other stalls, biting her lip as she saw Dean’s hand pressed against the tiles. She couldn’t see over the side, but as got closer she could hear him over the water much more clearly.

Y/N debated whether she should call out, as she stood by the sink. From where she was standing, she could see the calf muscles of Dean’s legs, the water flowing down them. She moved closer; she knew she shouldn’t be there but hearing him say her name meant that all bets were off. She let out a quiet sigh as she caught a glimpse of his sculpted back and his gorgeous ass, her lip tucked between her teeth as she watched his hand moving back and forth along his shaft. She couldn’t see much, but what she could was definitely a welcomed sight.

To see him like that was to witness beauty in its truest form. He was a real-life Adonis with perfect… well, everything. Sometimes she almost wished he had even one flaw so that it be would easier on her, but inside and out, Dean Winchester was a dream come true. Perfect even in his imperfections, even if he didn’t see it that way.

Y/N had imagined him like this so many times and continued to look on, despite how wrong she knew it was. Seeing him had transfixed her. She was glued to one stop, unable to move lest she miss the glorious sight. His apparent desire for her was making her feel things, her thighs squeezing together as she continued to observe.

Dean was completely oblivious to her behind him and as he tilted his head back, his jaw clenched. He was close to bringing himself over the edge, the fantasies of Y/N still evident in his mind. He grunted as his hand pumped faster, chasing the release he so desperately needed. She gulped as she watched him pick up speed, smirking to herself as she thought about how to make herself known.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his hand on the wall becoming a tight fist as he tilted his head back. She saw that his eyes were closed, and she smiled, wondering what he was picturing about her. With a boldness like she didn’t have before, she stepped forward and leaned her head against the tiled edge of the cubicle.

“If you wanted me, all you had to do was ask,” she stated, amused as he jumped at the sound of her voice.

Dean’s eyes popped out of their sockets as he hurriedly grabbed his towel, moving away from the water quickly and wrapping it around his waist. He breathed heavily as he turned to see Y/N behind him, hiding her face as she laughed. She had a towel wrapped around her and her hair was up, a few loose wet strands stuck to her neck. His mouth opened and closed a few times, in too much shock and embarrassment to say anything. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked at her.

“H-How long have you been standing there?” he stammered, his eyes still wide.

“Long enough.” The smirk hadn’t left her face as her eyes met his, showing him that she was as far away as she could get from embarrassment, unlike him.

“Y/N, I-I… this isn’t what it looks-” he started but she cut him off with a small chuckle.

“Actually, it’s exactly what it looks like” she laughed. It didn’t last long as her eyes raked over his body. “Anything I can help out with?”

Dean huffed and almost choked at her words. What did she just say? She was kidding, right? She had to be.

“What?” His voice came out broken as he cleared his throat.

She smiled as she cocked her head to the side. She had no idea where this confidence was coming from, but she was glad of it. She also found it amusing that Dean was completely flustered by what she just offered. The man was the biggest flirt she knew; how could he ever be flustered by someone finding him ridiculously attractive?

“Don’t be coy with me, Dean,” she stated, as she grasped the tucked corner of her towel. “You said my name which means you have to feel something for me.”

She pulled the wrapped towel free, holding the edges as she opened it and revealed herself to him. Dean’s eyes moved up and down her body, darkening as he realized what was happening. Suddenly, he wasn’t flustered anymore, quickly replacing it with the cockiness she was so familiar with.

“After all,” she continued as she draped the towel over the edge of the tiled cubicle. “I’ve said yours when I’ve got my fingers buried inside me.”

“Fuck,” he groaned as his eyes closed for a second, looking at her again with more emotions than she could figure out.

“I just…” she trailed off, the confidence faltering a little. “I need to know if it’s just a way for you to get off or if you actually do want me-”

“I want you,” he said, cutting her off quickly as he didn’t want her thinking this was meaningless. “I want all of you. Always.”

She smiled as she bit her lip, causing his eyes to darken even more if that was possible.

“I want you too.” She finally confessed. A weight lifted off her chest, completely relieved that they felt the same for each other.

A cocky smirk graced Dean’s face as he let go of his towel, revealing that he was still hard. She took a deep breath as she looked down at him, practically salivating at the sight of his cock. His towel joined hers over the edge as he stood there, waiting for her to make the move.

Y/N stepped forward, instantly cupping his face in her hands and bringing his lips to hers in a rough, searing kiss. Dean arms came around her waist, pulling her in as he moved them under the shower spray. Their bodies slid against each other as the water cascaded down their skin, wetting every part of them. She sucked on Dean’s bottom lip, before kissing and biting at his jaw and making her way down to his neck.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he sighed, pulling her away to look into her eyes. “Can’t wait to feel you, feel all of you.”

She reached her hand down and grasped his cock in her hand, slowly moving back and forth along the shaft. Giving him a mischievous grin when he looked at her with hooded eyes, her hand came up and softly massaged the head with the tips of her fingers. His hand suddenly came down and grasped hers, moving it away from him. She bit her lip as he walked her backwards, a small gasp leaving her as the cold tiles met her back. Her hands gripped his shoulders tightly, supporting herself to keep from slipping. Their lips continued to move against each other’s, as Dean’s hand travelled down her body to her sex. He ran his hands along her folds, causing her to sigh against his lips. With an agonisingly slow pace, he sank two of his fingers into her, feeling how wet she was. She moved her mouth away from his, gasping loudly as she looked into his eyes.

“Is this how you moved your fingers when you thought about me?” he asked, whispering against her lips as he moved his fingers back and forth along her inner wall.

“Yeah” she breathed out, her eyes fluttering closed. “Just like that.”

“I pictured you so many times, just like this, with my fingers deep inside you. Making you feel so good” he growled against her lips before taking her in for another kiss.

“Fuck, Dean” she let out a soft moan, shaking her head against the tiled wall. “I need you.”

He moved his fingers faster, causing her to moan loudly.

Chuckling against her cheek, he kissed it softly. “Patience, sweetheart.”

He slowly dropped to his knees, looking up at her as he hovered close to her mound. He smirked as he leaned forward, lightly flicking her clit with his tongue.

“Shit,” she hissed, as her hands moved into his hair and gripped tightly.

He moved closer, gripping her thigh with his other hand as he continued to move his fingers within her. He sucked her clit into his mouth, circling his tongue around the bundle of nerves.

“Oh, fuck… oh, Dean, feels so good.” She moaned, her eyes shutting tightly.

He hummed, the rumble of it vibrating through her and making her gasp. “Taste so fucking good, Y/N” he muttered against her flesh before he took her aching bud in his mouth. He moved his fingers out of her, shifting his head to lick along her folds, alternating between that and sucking at the bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, Dean, yes” she whimpered. “Right there.”

He gripped her hips and pulled her in close, his mouth continuing to devour her like a man starved. He drove his tongue into her wet canal, thrusting into her, as his hand came up and his fingers started circling her clit.

She bumped her head back into the wall, nearly having knocked herself unconscious against the tiles if it had been any harder. “Fuck! Oh fuck, yes!”

She opened her eyes and looked down, seeing his beautiful green orbs looking up at her as he continued to bring her a kind of bliss that no other man had managed to.

“You’re so fucking wet, sweetheart,” he said as he pulled away briefly. “Want you to cum on my tongue.”

She gripped his hair tighter as he went back to his ministrations. Her legs shook, already weak from what he was doing to her.

“Dean” she whimpered. “F-fuck.”

He groaned as he felt her walls clench, the waves of pleasure washing over her as she came on his tongue.

Dean lapped up everything she had to give, slowly pulling away from her. He looked at her and smirked, mischievously. She clenched her hands in his hair, painfully enough to make him groan, pulling his head back and straining his neck, so that she could look into his eyes with lust-blown eyes. “Fuck me.”

Dean growled as he reached up to grab her hands out of his short spikes, standing up from the wet floor of the shower. He pulled her roughly towards him, turning her around and grabbing her hands, pressing the palms into the cold tiles. He reached down and grabbed her ass, positioning her at the proper angle. Lifting his hand, he brought it down, landing a wet spank against one cheek, which made her jolt as she moaned. She smiled to herself and wriggled against him, silently asking him to do it again.

“Fuck” she choked out as another wet spank slapped against the same cheek.

Dean lined up his cock with her folds, pushing forward and sinking into her wet canal. He bottomed out, buried completely within her, groaning as he felt her walls stretch around him.

“So fucking tight, gorgeous,” he smirked, grasping her hips tight in his hands.

“Dean, please just fuck me” she begged.

He slowly pulled out before pushing in again, repeating the action a few times at a slow, torturous pace. “Is that what you want, sweetheart?”

“M-more, please” she cried as she pressed her cheek to the tiles. “I need more.”

“Tell me what I want to hear, sweetheart,” he chuckled, the sound almost evil. “Tell me how you want it.”

“I want it hard, fast” she gasped, as she continued to feel him moving in and out of her at the same slow speed. “I want you to fuck me so hard I feel it for days.”

Without another word from Dean, she practically screamed into the tiles as he slammed into her, setting a fast pace. His hips made wet, smacking sounds against hers as he thrusted into her and pulled her against his.

“Is this what you fucking wanted, baby?” he asked, one hand leaving her hip and moving up to grab her shoulder. He pulled her away from the wall, bringing her back to his chest, as he continued to thrust into her.

“Yes, yes!” she moaned loudly, her hands moving over his on her hip and shoulder. “Oh, fuck… Dean!”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Take it nice and deep. How does it feel, baby? Does it feel good?” he asked, as he thrust up into her. His cock hit her g-spot with precision, causing her to cry out.

“Yes, it feels so good… so fucking good, Dean” she practically sobbed, overwhelmed by the pleasure that coursed through her.

She reached up and grasped the back of his neck, his arm coming up and around her breasts, rolling her nipple between the thumb and forefinger. His other hand slid up the length of her body, wrapping around her arm that was around his neck.

“You like the way my cock feels, don’t you? The way it drives into you, deep and hard” he whispered into her ear, nipping at her ear lobe.

“Yes, I fucking love it” she moaned, grabbing his hair tight.

“You feel so fucking perfect, darlin’. So perfect around my cock” he growled in her ear.

Suddenly, the water turned cold, signalling that they had been there a long time. She gasped as the ice-cold water hit her, causing Dean to quickly reach over and turn the spray off. He pulled out of her slowly and Y/N whimpered at the loss of him. Before she had the chance to move, he wrapped an arm around her, the other tucked under her legs as he lifted her up and quickly carried her over to the ledge of the bathroom sinks. Sitting her on top, she looked into his eyes and moaned as he grasped his cock and slapped it down a few times on her clit. He smirked as he lifted her leg onto his shoulder, lined himself up again, thrusting into her and resuming his previous pace. The sounds of their moans and his hips smacking against her echoed in the bathroom, but neither of them paid any attention to it.

“Can’t wait to feel you cum all over my cock” he growled, as he turned his head and nipped at her calf.

Her walls clenched around him as he continued to move within her, and she knew she was close to feeling complete bliss. She reached her hand up and cupped his jaw, making her look at him. “Make me cum on your perfect cock, Dean. Make me cum hard, make me soak your cock.”

“Fuck, sweetheart” he grunted, leaning in and kissing her, roughly, letting out harsh breaths.

Dean’s thrusts picked up speed, his pace faster than it was, ready to go over the edge with her. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, no doubt leaving bruises that were yet to form. He smirked as he saw her eyes unfocused and mouth unable to close from the sheer pleasure he was making her feel.

“De, fuck… oh fuck” she cried. “Fuck yes… Dean!”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Scream my name… let everyone hear what I’m doing to you” he groaned as he looked into her eyes. He leaned his head down, taking her nipple into his mouth, his tongue circling it as his other hand came over her left breast, fingers tweaking the nipple into a hard nub. She reached up and gripped his hair tightly, causing him to groan against her skin.

“Ah, fuck yes, Dean!” she screamed.

“You gonna cum, Y/N?” he said, pulling away from her breast.

“Y-yeah” she gasped, nodding frantically. “Make me cum, please, make me cum.”

“You close, baby?” he taunted, a smirk on his face.

“Yes, so fucking close!” she whimpered, shaking her head in delirium. “Dean, please…”

“Cum for me, Y/N… fucking soak my cock.” He groaned, his jaw clenching as he held back. He cupped the back of her neck and made her look directly into his eyes, a firm grip on the back of her neck.

As she looked into his beautiful green orbs, a loud cry of his name left her lips, repeating over and over, as if it was a mantra. The coil in her belly snapped and sent waves of pleasure coursing through her, as she came around him, soaking him just as he had wished.

That was all it took for Dean’s thrusts to stutter, as he let out a loud moan. Y/N felt his cock swell within her, as she watched his jaw clench.

“Oh fuck, Y/N” he let out a roaring grunt, as he hit the pinnacle. He came deep within her, spurts of his release filling her up, giving her everything he had.

Dean let out low moans as Y/N breathed harshly, both of them trying to ease their racing heartbeats. They looked at each other, small, tired laughs escaping both of them. He hissed slightly as he pulled out of her slowly, making her moan as she felt his cum rush out of her. Reaching over the sink, he grabbed a washcloth and slowly eased her legs down, keeping his arm around her so her wobbly legs didn’t buckle. He turned the tap on at the sink, wetting the cloth. He held it in his hand as he reached down, cleaning his release from between her legs. He kept his eyes on her, watching as she smiled at him softly. He winked at her, leaning in and kissing behind her cheek and then her ear.

“You okay?” he asked, softly in her ear.

She hummed as she nodded, feeling the butterflies flutter in her belly at his sweet gesture. As he cleaned himself up, she gained some composure, and suddenly felt completely exposed. She reached over to the wall, and grabbed her towel, manoeuvring it around herself to wrap it around her body, but Dean’s hands stopped her. He pulled her in, her naked form pressed into his, as he looked down at her.

“Don’t you hide from me,” he smirked. “Not after that.”

She felt heat rise to the surface of her cheeks. “Dean.”

“Don’t ‘Dean’ me” he chuckled. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

A comfortable silence fell between them, as Y/N’s hands roamed Dean’s chest, his roaming her back.

“So…” she trailed off as she smiled up at him. “I got take-out for dinner. Maybe we could… sit on your bed and eat it, watch a movie?”

He grinned as he leaned in, kissing her softly. “Sounds like a plan, sweetheart.”

They made themselves decent enough to leave the bathroom and walk the halls to their respective rooms, towels wrapped securely around them, gathering all of their belongings as Dean opened the door for her to leave the bathroom first. He went to his bedroom and changed into a dark brown Henley and black sweatpants, giving the room a last glance to make sure it was tidy. He was thankful for his previous need to clear everything, now that Y/N was going to be in his room any minute. On cue, she pushed the half open door to walk in, a soft smile on her face as she carried the take-out bag and plates in one hand, a six-pack of beer in the other. She was dressed in an over-sized black t-shirt, no doubt one of his that she had stolen, and red and black plaid pyjamas. Her hair was still in a bun, still slightly damp from their shower activities.

“Here” he said, gesturing to her full hands. He took the plates and the beer, setting them down on the bed as she put the bag down.

As they sat and started putting food on their respective plates, Dean looked over at her appreciatively. He couldn’t remember the last time they had done this, feeling like a lifetime ago especially after Michael took over his body. When she looked up at him, she frowned slightly, but a small smile played at her lips.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing, just…” he started but shook his head, biting his lip. “Just thanks for not giving up on me.”

He dropped his head slightly, unable to keep eye contact with her as the guilt of taking Michael in started to weigh on him yet again. She shook her head, lifting her hand to cup his jaw and tilt his head up again, looking directly at him.

“You don’t ever have to thank me” she said, stroking her thumb along his jawline. “I’ll never give up on you.”

He smiled at her and pulled her in as she leaned over, kissing his lips.

“So, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me” she laughed softly once she pulled away from the kiss.

“Nothing wrong with that, sweetheart” he smirked, kissing her again. He pulled her close, wrapping their arms around each other. Without even saying it, they both knew they’d never let go of each other, no matter what happened.

They broke their embrace eventually but stayed close together as they shifted back on the bed, to face the TV screen with their plates in their laps. He took the cap off a beer and handed it to her, doing the same for himself.

“So, what’re we watching?” she asked, as she watched him flick through all their streaming services.

“Oh-” he started but without a doubt, she turned to him.

“Dean, please not Tombstone” she pleaded, shaking her head.

“Fine” he frowned as he continued looking on the screen. “Oh-”

“Not Unforgiven, either” she stated, giving him a pointed look.

“Fine” he sighed.

They quickly settled on Raiders of the Lost Ark, discussing all their favourite parts as they ate. Eventually, the food was finished, and Y/N got comfy, cuddling up to Dean as she laid her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her, allowing her to rest her head on his chest, still facing the TV. She soon fell asleep, almost to the end of the movie. He was careful not to wake her as he got up and cleared everything, taking it to the kitchen. He made quick work of washing up before flicking off the light in the kitchen and leaving.

When Dean returned to his room, he smiled at the sight that greeted him. Y/N was fast asleep, curled around one of his pillows. He never thought they would get to this place, but he was very happy that they had.

There was still a lot to talk about, they still had no chance to be completely free to do what they wanted with so many people in the bunker and Michael still out there as a threat.

However, as he got into bed and pulled her close, he smiled as he thought about the fact that they could get through anything, as long as they were together.

From that moment on, there was nothing they couldn’t do, as long as they had each other.

For that moment in time, Dean was truly at peace.

-x-

Tags: @flamencodiva @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @katehuntington @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma @parinarain @thoughts-and-funnies @mandalou29 @castiels-a-winchester @ellewritesfix05​ @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @supraveng​ @roonyxx​ @supernatural-love14​ @vicmc624​ @prettyboyswow​ @lunarmoon8​ @supernatural-bellawinchester​

[calaofnoldor]

Drug of Choice

Characters: Dean x Reader (gender neutral)

Words: 3,790

Summary: A night of drunken rambling leads to an unexpected change in your relationship status.

Warnings: angst, language, alcohol, feelings of inadequacy, very slight allusions of alcoholism/talk of drug addiction, reader likes the sound of their voice a bit too much when drunk, fluff, implied smut

A/N: written for @deanwanddamons 1st blogiversary and 2k follower celebration challenge! my prompt was “I wish I knew how to quit you“ which is bolded in the fic. congrats on the incredible milestone, sorry this is late! also for @spnfluffbingo and it fills the mood board square for @girl-next-door-writes‘ Make Me Feel Bingo challenge!

Square Filled: Kissed to Keep Quiet

MASTERLIST

It was four in the morning when Dean finally came home, and the bottle of Jack Daniels that sat before you atop the library table was over a quarter of the way through.

The heavy thud of his boots against the bunker floor drew your dark-adjusted eyes toward his shadowy figure, while the alcohol in your bloodstream loosened your lips, "How was she?"

"Jesus- Fuck!" There was a slight commotion before the lights flickered on, forcing your eyes to shut against the onslaught of sudden brightness. "Y/N??” Dean’s gruff, alarmed voice shattered the previously eerie silence, “What the hell are you doing sitting in the dark by yourself?"

Your eyelids lifted an experimental sliver but you kept your gaze directed down at the glass of whiskey in your hands. "It wasn't dark when I started."

Dean narrowed his eyes when he noticed the slur behind your words. "Started what? Are you drunk?"

His second question prompted a dismissive snort from you, "Hunters can't get drunk; you should know that by now, Dean."

"Yeah alright, we need to get you to bed." The man of your dreams began to make his way over to you until your gravelly words ceased his steps.

"I can't sleep... you haven't answered my question yet."

"What question?"

"How was she?"

"Who?"

You looked at him like he was crazy, "You know, the girl from the bar, the one with the curly hair… the one that was climbing onto your lap when I left?"

"I don't- there was no girl," Dean stumbled. His lips were parted and his eyebrows pulled together in an ever-gorgeous expression of bewilderment, but you were too busy examining the way the newfound light danced along the lustrous amber liquid between your fingers to notice.

"Oh," you grumbled in response, sounding a bit disappointed, which only served to deepen those adorable lines of confusion between Dean’s brows. "She sure was pretty though.” There was a pause as you pondered his declaration before blurting out in disbelief, “You really didn't fuck her in the back of Baby?"

"What- No! Y/N, there was never a girl and nothing happened, OK?" He sounded genuinely serious, so you conceded.

"I'm sorry."

"Why- why are you sorry?"

"I know you needed to blow off some steam after today, after I pissed you off by fucking up the hunt." You ventured a glance up at him through your lashes and the unadulterated pain in your eyes almost had Dean reeling back in surprise.

"What are you talking about? You didn't 'fuck up' the hunt," he argued, shaking his head as if to accentuate his point.

"Course I did. I got you hurt and I nearly let that dickbag get away."

A weighted sigh escaped Dean, "Y/N, you have to know that wasn’t your fault, and it’s not like you haven’t done the same thing for me. Besides, I wasn’t pissed off, I was... I was scared, OK?”

You were about to take another sip of your drug of the night when you lowered your glass to let the irrepressible giggle leave your system, “Scared? Since when does the big bad Dean Winchester get scared? And if he did, he definitely wouldn’t be talking about it out loud. Are you sure you’re not the one who’s been drinking?”

“I mean, I have been drinking but that’s beside the point. Look, Y/N, why don’t we talk about this tomorrow, alright? You’ve just gotta sleep this off.”

"Pft. This isn't something I can just sleep off. Trust me, I've tried." There was a tickle in your throat that alerted you of the oncoming word vomit, but your friend Mr. Daniels seemed to be gaining complete control of your tongue; it was all he was ever good for really, “I’ve also tried drinking it away, but clearly that doesn’t work either. There’s just- so much- of it, of you… and now, now you’re in me-“ Dean’s eyes went wide but you were no longer at liberty to stop, “and I can’t get you out. Sometimes I don’t even think I want to. But I don’t think I can keep going like this any longer either… all this waiting, and wondering, and watching.” Some fragment of sobriety within you recognized how ridiculous and melodramatic you sounded and it gave you enough sense to avoid eye contact with the subject of you’re alcohol-induced speech, as if that could help you elude further embarrassment.

“OK, you’ve gotta slow down, Y/N/N. What the hell are you talking about?” At this point, Dean had moved to take the seat across from you, subtly sliding the bottle of Jack out of your reach as he sat down.

A mirthless laugh was your reply, "Of course you don’t know. Why would you?“

“What does that mean? Why wouldn’t I? Y/N, what’s going on?”

But you ignored his questions and answered with one of your own, “Why am I never enough? You know what, don't answer that; that was a rhetor- rhetor…”

“Rhetorical?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, flailing your index finger in his direction, “Yes, that’s the word. See, even your brain is too good for me.”

“What- why would you say that? Y/N, you know that’s not true. And why do you think you’re never enough? You’re plenty enough.” Concern now painted Dean’s features. He hated seeing you this way, broken and depressed, trying to drown your feelings in whiskey; he’d figured that was his trademark amongst the bunker residents. And he couldn’t understand how someone as incredible as you would think themselves unworthy of anything. Whichever son of a bitch made you feel this way would pay, Dean swore it.

“Then how come you never pick me?” you countered simply, deciding it was finally time to call out his hypocrisy.

The accusation floored Dean. He scooted back in his seat as he stared at you with a slack jaw, utter perplexity swirling within his emerald eyes. Over the years, Dean had garnered an inkling that you felt some kinda way about him, but he never really let himself believe, and not once did he think he could be hurting you. On the contrary, he always figured it was his own hopeful heart playing tricks on him. Even now, he wasn’t entirely sure he was hearing you correctly, or that your drunken state could be trusted, though he remembered you once told him that you were always the most honest version of yourself when you drank, whiskey in particular.

“I watch you go out with waitress after bartender after waitress, but I’ve been here the whole time, and you never consider me. It’s like I don’t even exist, like I’m not even an option, like I could never even help you scratch that itch, at least not as good as any barfly across the Midwest could.” You were aware that this was getting out of hand, but you couldn’t seem to find the brakes. “But that’s not even the real problem – I mean, sure, a roll around the hay with you would probably be mind-blowing as fuck – but it would never solve the root of it, never be enough for me.”

Dean had been studying you meticulously as you spoke, your words starting a fire to the embers of his soul, breathing life into a long-forgotten hope that brought him both joy and fear. “What would? Be enough for you, I mean?” His tone took on a raw sultriness that matched the intense, borderline predatory glaze of his eyes. Needless to say, Dean hadn’t expected your sardonic laughter to fill the air, and your sudden frenzied, carefree state certainly took him off guard.

“Nothing!” you laughed, “I don’t think anything will ever be enough for me! C-cause you’re like this drug that I’m hooked on and it’s just so fucking hard to get off… I mean, it’s also hard to get off without you now, or thoughts of you anyway...” Your tangent was quickly overcome when you remembered the topic of your initial spiel, “But it’s like everything about you draws me in! From the way you reference classic literature even though I’ve never seen you pick up a book that’s not about lore, to the way you rebuild Baby from scratch like it’s no big deal, to the way you’re so good with kids even though you never got to be one yourself, to the dumb way you bottle up all your feelings and never let them see the light of day yet still manage to do so much good in the world, t-to the way you get excited over classic rock and crappy horror movies and pie, and don’t even get me started on the way you love Sam! I mean, it’s just all of it! It’s your strength and perseverance through literal hell, it’s your huge fucking heart despite the mask of swagger and charm, it’s that stupid grin you get when you make a dumb joke and Sam rolls his eyes at you, it’s just those god damn lips in general! And then you walk around looking like that!?” you gestured wildly at all of him, “I mean, who gave you the right?!”

Dean looked like he was about to respond, but you cut him off. There really was no stopping your tirade now, “I’m like an addict who can never get enough, and when you leave, I get feelings of withdrawal, and I don’t know how to fucking deal with those either… You’re so deeply ingrained in me; I don’t think I’ll ever be able to flush you out of my system. And I just-“ you took a rare pause to heave a large breath before admitting quietly, “I wish I knew how to quit you. I really do, because as much as I love you, and trust me, it’s a whole fucking lot – God, does it feel good to finally say that out loud – but for every ounce of love that I have for you, for every bit of you that I’ve inhaled, it hurts just as much. Because you don’t feel the same, and you never will, and I don’t blame you, because you’re Dean fucking Winchester and you could have whoever you want with just a wink and half a smile, and you deserve to have whoever you want-”

“Are you done?” Dean was quick to latch onto the brief respite in your monologue, “Fuck, Y/N, you really have no idea what you do to me, do you? What you are to me?” His head shook in disbelief while his troubled green eyes searched yours.

“What I am to you? I’m your hunting buddy, Dean. The one you call when you need an extra hand with a vamp nest or an extra set of eyes to scour the books, the one who stays up with you when you have nightmares about the souls you tortured in hell, the one you sing rock songs out of tune in the car with, just never the one you go to for a booty call,” you finished with a bitter laugh.

Dean’s head had never ceased it’s shaking, even as he got up and walked around the table towards you. “Only because you’re worth so much more than that. Y/N, you deserve so much more than me.”

It was your turn to shake your head. How typical, you thought as you rolled your eyes and stood up to meet his eye line, “Don’t give me that bullshit, Dean. I know you’re trying to let me down easy and that’s nice of you and all, but you can’t fool me. I know you too well, Dean Winchester, and I know there’s no way in hell that- Mmf!“ The rest of your words were intercepted by Dean’s lips on yours.

The feeling was unexpected but not at all unwelcome. There was an urgent force behind the kiss as he pushed his mouth against yours with gentle yet firm ferocity, bracing your head with large hands cupping both sides. It felt as if he was desperately trying to convey a message to you, to disprove your woeful words of self-pity, or perhaps he just wanted you to shut up. You, of course, responded with tremendous enthusiasm regardless of his intent, grasping blindly at his forearms while slotting your tongue and lips around his in an increasingly frantic manner. You didn’t care if the kiss wasn’t good for him; this might be your only chance to take what you need from Dean Winchester, if only a tiny fraction of it.

When he finally pulled back, you were both panting for air. Dean still held your head in both hands as he leaned forward to rest his forehead upon yours. “Dammit, I shouldn’t have done that; you’re drunk... Do you at least believe me now?”

A slight grimace contorted Dean’s features as his mind was suddenly bombarded by a multitude of conflicted thoughts and feelings, feelings of desire and regret and bliss and unease, but when he caught the dazed look in your eyes, Dean made up his mind, “Ah, what the hell, you’re probably not gonna remember much of this anyway. Look, Y/N, you’re wrong. I do feel the same way about you; I have pretty much ever since I saw that magnificent ass of yours.” Pausing to chuckle at his own words, Dean licked his lips, still able to taste the whiskey from yours.

“The only reason I fucked around with those other people was because I couldn’t stand not being able to have you,” he continued through closed eyes and gritted teeth before filling his chest with a deep breath, “Like today, when I saw that fucking werewolf come at you, I nearly lost it. The thought of anything happening to you scares me shitless, and I didn’t know how to process that feeling, so I let that girl at the bar get close. I was trying to fill the hole you created but it was pointless cause in the end, just like every other time, I couldn’t go through with it. Every time I try to forget about you, your face shows up in my head,” he growled in that low, throaty tone that always seemed to reverberate down to your nether regions.

“But I- I wasn’t lying when I said you deserve more than me. Y/N, you know me. I’m a broken, twisted, shell of a man. I’m-“

“Poison, I know,” you finally lifted your head away from his so that you could look directly into his dazzling eyes. Dean’s hands slid down along your neck and landed on your shoulders while yours remained on his forearms, not willing to lose all contact. “I know what you’re gonna say. You think you’re poison, that being with you puts a target on my back, that loving you is a death sentence… Did I get that right?”

Dean gave you a miniscule nod and a look of resignation as he reluctantly released you from his hold, forcing you to let go as well when he took a large step back. You suddenly felt extremely sober, the effects of the alcohol and that kiss all wearing off instantaneously, “And you hate yourself. No one hates you more than you, Dean.” Your voice was hardly a whisper now, “But that’s OK, cause I hate myself too, for never being able to make you realize that you are so much more than you give yourself credit for, that you deserve all the things you think you can’t have, that you can have them all and still be Dean Winchester.”

You watched as Dean’s eyes began to water and when a single tear rolled down his cheek, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. Approaching him as slowly as you would a nervous animal out of its natural habitat, you stopped directly before him before cautiously raising your arm to wipe the offending tear away with your thumb. Your eyes seemed to be locked in a silent exchange of colossal magnitude, expressing everything mere words could not, from harrowing regret to agonizing self-inflicted torment to desperate desire. It was the yearning in his shimmering eyes that gave you the courage to speak your next words, a runaway tear of your own joining the whispered plea, “Please, let me show you.”

When your eyes fluttered open the next day, they were greeted with the most beautiful sight you'd ever awoken to. Dean’s face was barely a foot away from yours, and the man himself was already awake, staring directly at you. He was lying on his back with his head turned towards you, while your body was twisted to face his. A bedside lamp was on, allowing you to marvel at the breathtaking perfection in front of you, and despite the booze having long since evacuated from your veins, your mouth still imparted the first thing that came to your mind, “You know, I've always wanted to count your freckles,” you murmured honestly, “Maybe map them out like tiny constellations so I can memorize them better, so that one day I could trace them even with my eyes closed.” Your fingertips moved of their own accord as you spoke, gliding softly over his cheeks and across the ridge of his perfect nose.

Dean caught your hand in his and kissed it repeatedly as his magical olive eyes continued to bore into yours, never once leaving your face. His pouty lips curved into the slightest smile as if he were afraid to rear hope yet couldn't fight the peaceful thrill you were bringing him by simply lying next to him. “You’re not still drunk, are you?”

“Not unless it counts to be drunk on you… Sorry, that sounded a lot less cheesy in my head.” You cringed but Dean’s smile broadened.

“And no hangover?”

“No, I told you, hunters can’t-“

“Get drunk. Yeah, I heard. So does that mean you remember everything?”

“I don’t think I could forget that kiss if I wanted to; my brain wouldn’t let me.” You glanced down at his gorgeous mouth before meeting his gaze again, “I meant it all, you know? Everything I said was the truth. Every word.” You moved your thumb to graze his lower lip and he puckered his lips to kiss it.

“So did I, every word… Especially the part about that sweet ass of yours.” The hand that wasn’t holding yours roamed down to grab at your butt cheek with a hefty yet tender squeeze, causing you to squeal in delight. When you settled down, he moved your hand to place it above his heart, “You know I’m no good at chick flick moments, but you can trust me when I say I’m addicted to you too.”

The sincerity in his voice sent butterflies through your stomach and your smile felt invincible. “I hope you know that when I called you a ‘drug’ I didn’t mean it in a derogatory way. Some drugs are good for you. Some drugs can save your life,” you whispered as you fisted lightly at the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

“I wouldn’t go that far, sweetheart.”

“Isn’t that what you did yesterday?” Dean was about to retort but you sent him a raised brow and a look that said ‘don’t test me, I’ve got loads more evidence where that came from’ so he simply looked down with a small grin. “Does it still hurt?” You motioned to the white bandage on his shoulder where the werewolf had scratched him up yesterday when he jumped in front of you.

Dean shook his head, “Right now I can hardly feel it. Actually, it hasn’t hurt at all since I kissed you.”

The corners of your mouth lifted some more at his words. “See, that’s what I mean. To me, you’re like coffee on an early morning, morphine when I’m hurting, tranquilizers when I’m freaking out, Zoloft when the world’s got me down, mixed with a shot of ecstasy, and quite possibly the most potent form of Viagra known to mankind.” You might have lingered a moment to chuckle at your own joke, thinking ‘it’s funny cause it’s true’. Dean belted a guffaw himself and you were quite pleased as you continued, “You’re everything I’ve ever needed, all wrapped up in one beautiful, self-loathing man.” You stroked his stubbled jaw and caressed his cheek, letting your words waft softly across the distance between you, hoping he could sense the veracity within them, “And I just want you to let me love you, let me get high on you, so I can show you how good you are. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

A wave a sadness flowed through Dean and he lowered his gaze from yours. “This could end bloody.”

“I know,” you nodded, “But it’s so much better than the alternative... It was getting a bit too hard to bear, even if you were only eye fucking all those other suitors. Besides, if it means I get to kiss you whenever I want, it’ll be worth it. And if it means I get a chance to prove to you how worthy you are, then it’ll be more than worth it.”

“I was only staying away because I wanted to protect you from me, but I didn’t realize it was hurting you. I never wanted to cause you pain; Y/N, I need you to know that.” Dean’s warm, calloused palm ran up your arm, it’s gentleness in stark contrast to his fierce tone, while yours continued to cup his cheek.

Astounded by the passion behind his words and the utter beauty of his face, you whispered in awe, “How are you so perfect?” Seeing the cogs begin to turn in his brain, you quickly moved your index finger to press against his plush lips, “Shh, just let me say it. Baby steps, Dean.”

He took your finger and guided your arm to wrap around his wide shoulders, careful of his injury, then reached out to pull you snugly towards him until your bodies were completely flush, your chest heaving against his. “Well do we have to take baby steps with everything? Cause now that I’ve finally got you in my bed, I was kinda hoping you’d let me take you for a spin in it. Maybe find out if it’s really – how did you put it again? – ‘mind blowing as fuck’ I believe were your words?” That signature smirk of his that always brought you to your knees came out to play.

Your laughter fanned across his face, and the smile on your face was effervescent, “You really are one hell of a drug, Dean Winchester.”

thank you for reading! as always, feedback is marvelously appreciated!

TEAM IDJITS: @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @carryonmywaywardbucky​ @swiftlymoniquesblog​ @moosewinchester​ @sams-sass​ @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ @jotink78​ @winifrede​ @writingforthelonelysoul​

TEAM SQUIRREL: @deanwinchesterswitch​ @deandaydreaming​

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Golden Bands

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Requested by:  @lucdarling -Elijah/Reader and someone else saying prompt 10!

Word Count: 700

Warnings: Nope. None. 

Author’s Note: I could have done this one a million different ways, but I actually enjoyed writing it this way. I hope you guys enjoyed it! Prompt is in bold

Blogiversary Prompts

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

"We have to tell them at some point." Elijah whispered as he stood next to you.

Your Y/E/C/ eyes looked up from the plate of food you had been serving yourself as you looked around. Your family was currently mingling with the Mikaelsons. This little Sunday brunch that Rebekah had put together had been planned for weeks.

"Now?" You asked worriedly as you looked up at Elijah.

The two of you had been keeping a secret for the past week. While it was no secret that the two of you had been head over heels in love with each other, you running off to elope with Elijah had been. And with your friends and both families wanting you to have a big wedding when the time came, you knew it was going to come as a shock to several of them.

You two had been on your way out of town for a weekend getaway when you had come across a little chapel on the way. It was in that moment that both of you had decided that there was no point in waiting and got married that moment. The weekend honeymoon, along with the week leading up to this brunch, had been kept to yourselves as much as possible to avoid the having to explain this secret of yours.

"Now is as good a time as any." He nodded his head towards your families. "Everyone is here. It's better to hear it from us that we got married than hear it from anyone else."

You had been just about to agree to what Elijah had been saying when a voice off the side had startled you. At the same time it had caused both you and Elijah to stiffen slightly.

"You're married?!" Rebekah's voice had been loud enough that you were sure everyone else had heard it.

You both looked around to find that everyone had in fact heard Rebekah and were currently staring at the both of you. A nervous chuckle passed your lips as you gave them a smile.

"Surprise!" You said softly, trying not to shrink down where you currently stood with everyone in shock.

Elijah chuckled beside you before taking your hand. "We are." He said as he looked toward his sister. "It happened last weekend when we left."

"You left to get married?" A family member of yours asked. You had been able to pick up on the hurt.

"No." Both you and Elijah said at the same time, which caused you two to chuckle.

"We were going to wait." You said with a nod. "But an opportunity presented itself and we decided in that moment to do it."

"We both know that you would have preferred to have been there, but with it just being the two of us, it was what we needed." Elijah noted as he lifted your hand and kissed the back of it, causing you to grin up at him. "Though we do plan on doing something to involve you all."

"We just needed to find a moment to tell you guys." You looked towards Rebekah. "Kind of beat me to the punch.

There was silence for a moment as they took in the news. You had expected it from them, especially with the news you were giving them.

"It was about bloody time." Kol said with a smirk. "I'd honestly expected it to be sooner."

At that, everyone had started laughing. With the shock gone, everyone had began congratulating the two of you. Some made you guys promise that there would be a ceremony in the future. Others were just glad that it had been special enough for the two of you. But over all, the news had been taken well enough.

"Well, do you at least have pictures?" Rebekah asked with a hand on her hip as she looked towards you.

"Of course." You said with a grin as you pulled out your phone.

The moment you did, several people swarmed around you to take a glance at the photos that had been taken of the private ceremony. As you showed them the photos, from time to time, you'd look up at Elijah to see the smile on his face as you explained specific details. Behind that smile was the knowing look that he had been giving you. One that said you had been worried for nothing and it all worked out.

Always & Forever Tag: @taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @wayward-dan @neeadinghugs @fafulous @kenmen02 @elizamonet @dora-the-grownup @mschellehitt @xanderling @fandom-princess-forevermore

Stag Tag:  @elejah-wonderland @cheers-my-dears-16 @xxsoveriegnsarayaxx

The Originals Tag: @zillahvathek

As always, if you would like to be added to, or taken off, the taglist please let me know. ♥♥♥

[brighteststar707]

happy belated two year blogiversary Faye!! we've only been mutuals for a fraction of it but it's been an absolute treat to get to know you 🩷

for the prompts I would like either 1 or 14 with (surprise surprise) Jumin, please! I'm indecisive so please choose whichever one has more of a spark for you hehe :~)

Thank you Ann! I'm so happy to have met you and to be able to get to know you <3 I picked prompt number 14 for you (looking at their lips as they talk), and I hope you enjoy!

Looking at Their Lips as They Talk

✦Jumin x gn!Reader ✦ Words: 781

The restaurant is lit up with delicate-looking pendant lights that hang over each table. It fills the space with a diffused light that makes the space feel warm and welcoming. The table is close to the window, offering you a view of the city skyline beyond. At this time of the evening, everything is lit up outside and it’s a mesmerising sight.

Jumin seems pleased that you’re enjoying the view. He has gone all-out on this reservation, as usual. You’re not complaining, though. You’ve been looking forward to this dinner ever since he phoned you up that fateful night asking you out to dinner. His voice over the phone had been lacking its characteristic confidence up until the moment you agreed to join him. Then, it returned, with an added warmth that told you he was smiling as he spoke.

The dinner so far has been nothing short of perfect. He had chosen the restaurant based off of what he already knew about your preferences, and it has paid off. Each course has been one indulgence after another. When each new plate arrives, he watches you take your first bites and tries to read your expression.

Conversation is easy. From when he picked you up till dessert has been served, you’ve been talking, effortlessly slipping from one topic to the next without awkward silences. It’s something you could have never imagined when you first met him and yet feels so natural now. You talk not only about the food but about the happenings in your lives, interesting people you have both met recently – through C&R meetings in his case and through party planning in yours – and you find yourselves having to stifle your laughter to not draw attention to yourselves.

Your table is one of the few that is separated from the main dining space by a tinted glass partition. Beyond the partition, though, you can still hear the soft clinking of wine glasses and the sounds of quiet, reigned-in conversation. You are glad for the bit of privacy the two of you have here.

Then, perhaps softened by the decadent food and drink, the conversation turns more flirty, more personal. He expresses his fondness for you in elegant words that tumble out of his mouth as if of their own volition. It’s incredibly endearing to see him being clumsy for once. Anxious as he may be to express himself, though, his training and upbringing never leave him. You tease each other and greatly enjoy the ways you can fluster him.

You can see the lights shimmering back at you in his eyes. There’s something there, perhaps a spark of intensity, that you can’t help but wanting to fan, just to see where it goes.

Dessert has been served and you're both taking your time over it. It's decadent, the perfect flavours to round out the meal you have just eaten. Your glasses of wine have just been topped up and you're holding yours in your hand, absentmindedly swirling the wine around the glass as you talk.

Jumin watches you, attentive as ever. He has gone quiet, only taking small sips of his wine and bites of the slice of cake in front of him. Just as he has been throughout the night.

Only, his gaze has dropped a few centimetres, from your eyes to your mouth. You continue to speak, and he only keeps watching. A small smile plays across his own mouth and you can't help but point it out.

“Is there something on your mind, Jumin?”

“Oh, please excuse me, I was only thinking about the wine.” He raises his gaze for just a second to meet your eyes. “I am worried it is not to your standard.”

You can still taste it on your tongue. Fruity and well-balanced. You haven’t had any complaints so far. But, Jumin’s words have sparked some curiosity in you.

“Have I made it seem like I'm not enjoying it? Because I truly am,” you reply.

“I have a  finer bottle at home that would suit you far better.” His eyes go back down to your lips. “I think you'd enjoy it much more than this one.”

His voice is slightly deeper, and there’s that sparkle in his eyes again, a reflection of those pretty lights and something entirely his. You don't have an answer for him, but your heart leaps in your chest at the implications of what he just said. He eats another delicate forkful of cake and you follow suit, washing it down with a sip of wine.

“Now you've made me curious, Jumin, for how good this wine must be.”

His smile is almost mischievous. “I'd be happy to share the bottle with you tonight to wrap up our evening together. I wouldn't want your curiosity to keep you up, after all.”

[phantomwarrior12]

Proving You Wrong

Prompt: “I just like proving you wrong.”

Word Count: 967

Summary: Card games with an archangel are always an adventure.

Warnings: Swearing (they’re playing a card game called Bullshit, so...it’s mostly that), fluff, Gabriel being very forward

A/N: Hey folks!

This prompt is for @idabbleincrazy‘s one year blogiversary challenge! Congratulations on the milestone, hon!

It’s finals week, so, there’s no real plot, just...fluff and shenanigans and that’s about it. XD

Please leave a like/comment and let me know your thoughts!

Enjoy!

~ Phantom

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

"That isn't physically possible, Gabriel." You narrow your eyes at the archangel, your leg bouncing anxiously beneath table.

"Are you really willing to make that bet, sugar?" The upward twitch to the corner of his mouth is almost distracting as you study his features.

He's thousands of years old, he's perfected his poker face and given the size of the pile of cards in the center of the table, you're not willing to risk it.

"Fine, I'll accept it. Two queens." You toss the cards down.

"Hold up, there's no way--"

"Dean, don't." You level a stern look on the eldest Winchester and he holds up his hands in mock surrender.

"Fine, I won't call it."

"But I will." Gabriel interjects, leaning forward.

"Not allowed, remember? Angels can't call bullshit." You smirk smugly.

"Since when?" Gabriel frowns.

"Since the start of the game, were you even listening?" Dean glances towards the archangel.

"I rarely listen when you speak, Dean-O. It's always broody and...you."

"The hell does that mean?" Dean glares at him, turning in his chair slightly.

"No fighting. Sam, lay your kings."

"I wanted to call your bluff!" Gabriel turns his attention back to you.

"Tough luck, feathers." You grin smugly.

Sam starts to lay his cards when Gabriel holds up his hand, "Samsquatch, call her bluff."

"What? No."

"She's bluffing. Those weren't three queens!"

"You're right. It was two." You grin at the archangel beside you.

"Don't," he holds up a finger at you before he turns back to Sam, "Call it!"

"I am not risking you being wrong." Sam returns shortly.

"Have I ever been wrong about Y/N bluffing?"

"Yes."

Gabriel huffs, leaning back in his seat, "Fine. Lay your damn kings."

"One king."

"One ace." Castiel lays the card down deliberately.

"Okay, now I know that's a lie. Bullshit, Cas." You smirk, glancing at the angel before you turn the card over, revealing a ten.

"Oh, all of those cards are yours now, Cas." Dean chuckles, leaning back in his seat.

"Now that isn't fair. You can call our bluff but we can't call yours." Gabriel protests.

"We can't read minds, you angels can. So, it's definitely fair." You stick your tongue out at the archangel.

"That tongue belongs in your mouth or in mine, not out in the open." Gabriel returns smugly, a satisfied smirk spreading across his lips at the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Shut up." You manage after a moment, "Your turn."

"One two." He tosses the card down, whiskey locking on y/e/c beside him.

"One three." Your gaze drops to the table, ignoring the amused expressions across from you.

"Two fours." Dean drops the cards down before he takes a sip of his beer.

"Three fives."

"Bull...shit?" Castiel glances towards Sam, blue flickering to you for approval.

"Angels can't call--"

"He has half the deck, Sam." Dean points out.

"That's still not fair, if Cas can call it, why couldn't Gabriel for Y/N?"

"The man has a point." Gabriel smirks at you.

"Fine, angels can call bullshit. No powers, understood?" You glance between the angels. 

"Scout's honor." Gabriel returns.

"Does that even work? You were never a Cub Scout." Dean frowns slightly.

"Just roll with it, Dean-O."

"All right. Sammy, pick up the cards."

Sam waves his brother off as he adds the cards to his deck.

"Cas."

"Four sixes." Castiel lays the cards down, sifting through the massive deck in his hand.

"Two sevens." Gabriel adds the cards to the pile.

"Bullshit!" You smirk up at him.

He gestures to the two cards, inviting you to look.

Your confidence falters as you turn over the two sevens, "Son of a bitch. How?" You look up at him with a glare as you add all six cards to your deck.

"I just like proving you wrong." He grins, slinging an arm across the back of your chair.

You wrinkle your nose at him, but turn back to your cards.

"To be fair, you probably should have chosen another number other than seven to challenge me on. I am the Trickster and seven is a lucky number." 

"Shove it, feathers." You return shortly, tossing a single eight into the center of the table.

"Oh, don't pout, sugar."

You ignore how close he is, keeping your eyes trained on the table as his fingers ghost across your back. There's a gentle current dancing along your spine just beneath your flannel, a cool whisper across warm flesh. You suppress the shudder, daring to steal a glance towards the archangel whose very much invested in his cards, trying, yet failing, to look innocent.

At some point, it's back to Gabriel and he hesitates, drumming his fingers on the wood and the cool whisper of his grace dissipates from your skin.

"Out of smug remarks?" Dean smirks.

"No one asked you, Dean-O."

"Lay the card, Gabriel."

Gabriel drops the card and Castiel looks at his brother, starting to speak before you jump in,  "Bullshit." You flip the card, a proud smile spreading across your lips when it's revealed to be an ace and not a queen.

"Yeah, yeah, it was bound to happen."

You nudge him playfully, "Good try, feathers."

He nods, feigning annoyance as he picks up the cards. He winks at Castiel, a gesture of thanks as he reorganizes his hand. The archangel's frame visibly relaxes when you smile up at him and toss down a king.

He shifts the queen to the back of his hand as a small smile spread across his lips. He might've just cost himself the game, but it's a price he's willing to pay to keep the warm smile playing at the corner of your lips for the rest of the game.

At least until he wants to prove you wrong again.

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

Wanna be here? Send me an ask/message to be added!

Tagging:

Gabe Squad: @thewhiterabbit42 @erisunderthemoon @stuckoutsideofthebox @nuvoleincielo @lyselkatz @high-church-of-the-holy-dick @fandomaniac

Forevers: @heaven-hell-imagines​ @a-mess-of-many-fandoms​ @currentlyfangirling99​ @bofa-deans-nuts​ @emiwrites3reads​

[citrinesparkles]

you had me worried

jason todd x gender neutral reader. 906 words. notes: hi please don't call people if you're trying to keep one or both parties anonymous <3 but for the sake of this little story, please disregard that. just insert bat-tech for anonymity <3 also, this was requested by @definitelydivergent as part of my blogiversary celebration! thank you so much, honey- hope you enjoy :) warnings: anxiety, canon-typical terrorism and violence

"hey, perfect timing. i was just thinking about y-"

jason's agitated voice, distorted slightly by the phone, cut you off. "baby, baby- shh, stop talking. where are you? home?"

his words were surrounded by heavy breathing, crashes, and shouting, a cacophony unsettling enough to distract you from how rude 'stop talking' was. "yeah?"

"thank god," he muttered, before grunting in effort and raising his voice over a clattering noise in the background. "i need you to stay there, okay?"

"is everything okay?"

"no, everything's shit- robin! your six!- and i need you to stay put." he paused for a moment, and you could hear a slam in the background. "please."

"okay," you mumbled, trying to swallow your rising nerves. "are you..."

"i'll play it smart," he answered the unspoken question. another crash. "i'll be careful."

"you'd better."

"i've got to go."

"be safe," you added, worry fully audible.

"see you soon."

and the call ended.

-

the night passed slowly. slower than usual.

you did you best to keep occupied, answering emails and scrubbing dishes and watching videos of a lady playing the spoons, but your mind kept revisiting the short conversation with jason.

the sour feeling in your stomach never faded, replaying the genuine concern in his voice. he wasn't easily rattled- you hadn't heard that tone in a very long time. it was hard to imagine what could have caused it, much less drove him to call you and ask you not to go out. once you had run out of chores and musical entertainment, you begrudgingly gave in, flopped into bed, and turned on the news.

"-left the scene, taking the now-infamous harvey dent into custody once again."

you swore quietly, watching as the camera zoomed in on a trampled black-and-white cookie directly behind the reporter.

"witnesses state that several vigilantes were involved in his re-capture, including batman, robin, and batgirl. as per usual, they have taken off into the night before they could be questioned on the situation."

"thanks, maria. the chilling events of this evening seem to be resolved, thanks to speedy response time by-"

you muted the tv and dropped the remote onto the bed beside you, staring disinterestedly at the man speaking. text scrolled across the bottom of the screen, blandly describing a forked approach to crime- two face had, appropriately, split his attention two ways. one half of his attack had been a bomb threat surrounding a political rally downtown; the other half had been his goons randomly selecting hostages from the streets.

highlighting corruption and random luck simultaneously. it was impressively planned, you could admit that much.

but now, knowing now what had happened, you wondered where jason was.

the red hood's involvement in the festivities going unmentioned wasn't surprising- it was a good sign, really, meaning he was well enough to avoid onlookers and nosy cameras.

but you wondered.

-

you didn't wonder long, soon hearing the window slide open and shut again.

"honey?"

"here!" you hopped out of bed, following his voice to meet him in the hall.

he had already shed his helmet, concern and exhaustion visible on his handsome face as he breathed your name. "you okay?"

"yeah, i'm okay. i stayed put."

"thank you," he mumbled, letting the tension melt from his shoulders. he pulled you in, holding you to his chest with an one arm around your waist and the other over your shoulders. "thank you."

returning the hug was the easiest thing you'd done all day, melting into his hold and rubbing your hands over his back. "thank you for coming back in one piece. are you okay?"

"i'm fine. i just needed to know you were safe." his thumb traveled across the back of your neck, the seam of his glove catching on the collar of your shirt.

"you were the one out there, jason. you had me worried."

he let out a carefully neutral hum- jason for 'i know' and 'i'm sorry'. "we're okay," he said quietly, kissing your head. "we're okay."

you nodded, pulling back to meet his weary eyes. "we're okay," you confirmed, watching some of the tension leave his brow.

to say you had a lot of questions was an understatement. the news had shown you an incomplete picture of what had happened, and the fact that he was so clearly shaken up told you that there was a very big picture to see.

'you had me worried' barely scratched the surface.

but he was home.

everything else could wait for the morning, so instead of asking 'how bad was it' or 'are you okay' or 'why did you seem surprised to see me home, right where i promised i would be', you brought your hands up to cup his face. he immediately nuzzled into your hold, bringing a small smile to your lips. "c'mon, handsome. let's get you out of that suit, okay?"

you slid back, ready to turn and head back into the bedroom and set out clean pajamas, but you were stopped in your tracks by him grabbing at your waist. "wait- wait. can we just..." his fingers bunched in your shirt, gently pulling you back to him before finishing his sentence in a whisper. "be here for a minute?"

your questions came back with a vengeance, but he looked shaken enough already, so you just slipped back into your place against his chest and held close.

it could wait for the morning.

[ask-frederick]

Hey, everyone! 

ask-frederick will be turning 6 years old next Monday, so I’d like to mix things up a bit with the blogiversary celebration. Instead of my usual giveaway (which only rewards a handful of individuals for participating), I’m going to be letting everyone get in on the fun by asking me (the mun/writer) questions and answering them live! Yes, I’m going to be jumping in front of a webcam for the first time in this blog’s history and embarrassing myself by answering your questions live. I’m also going to be announcing a brand new segment for the blog that will take effect on Friday the 19th. Please feel free to send your questions via ask or messenger, making sure that you’re addressing them to the mun or C (me). 

Thanks, everyone, and I’m looking forward to this coming week with you guys!

[pumpkin-stars]

Lazy Mornings

Obi Wan Kenobi/AFAB!Reader. Smut.

Request: Happy Blogiversary my love 🥺💕💕💕 you make every day of mine a bit brighter 😤 also, if you feel up to it, maybe you can write something cheeky and sexy based off of "Hello there" with Obi Wan? Many smooches - for my wonderful 🗡anon

Word Count: 584

Warnings/Content: somnophilia (obi wakes you up with his mouth), established relationship, inappropriate use of the force. Very inappropriate.

The last of 12 drabbles for my 1 year tumblr anniversary :)

You wake with a groan, one arm moving to cover your eyes as you shield them from the light of two suns before they even open, years of experience making such an act a habit that you doubt will ever leave you, even if you happened to move to a planet like Kamino where the sun rarely shone bright.

In the haze, it takes you a moment to realise why you’re awake, but then you register the bulk under the covers, the warm hands on your hips, the slight scratch of beard on your inner thighs, and the hot tongue lapping at your cunt.

You groan, hips moving forward and up, pushing yourself further into the mouth that woke you. There’s an answering - if muffled - moan, and you smile, rocking your hips for as long as he’ll allow, pinned down by a firm force just moments later.

The mouth moves from you, “let me do what I want, darling.” His voice is rough, raspy from sleep. Clearly he hasn’t been awake long, and whatever urge that he had for this was too much to ignore.

You smile, content to let him have his way with you, knowing he won’t stop until he’s satisfied the both of you.

“Kriff, Obi-“ you gasp, hands slipping under the covers, finding his hair blindly, needing to hold onto him as he returns his mouth to your cunt, licking a long stripe upward, flicking your clit before sealing his lips around it, suckling like a babe on a breast.

His hands move, resting hot on your parted thighs, keeping you open for him, letting him explore you at his leisure. He knows exactly where to go, what to target, but he takes his time, slipping his tongue back down to thrust into your cunt, the slight tickle of his facial hair only adding to the multitude of sensations.

His nose brushes your clit as he works, and if not for his palms continuing to knead the soft flesh of your legs you’d think he’d moved them… but you can feel them elsewhere… trailing up your sides, featherlight, up to your nipples.

Mouths join them, and you feel as though there must surely be three men on you - though you know there’s only one.

One mischievous and determined individual who knows exactly how to pleasure you.

He hums against your cunt, and a moment later you feel a pressure inside you, more than his tongue, pressing against your spot determinedly… and then more pressure on your clit…

Everything’s on fire, all your nerves stimulated by Obi’s actions, the slightest twitch of his fingers altering the intensity of the touches. And still you're held down, pinned by that invisible weight as he smirks into your core and pulls your orgasm forth—

“Oh, Obi—!” You pull his hair, and he allows your hips to buck again, lets you ride his tongue as he helps you through it.

Your body spasms, and as soon as you’re able, you shift the covers off you, assisted by invisible hands that fold them neatly at the bottom of the bed, even as their owner’s remain on your skin.

Obi Wan grins at you from between your legs, “hello there.”

You reach a hand down, prying a palm from your hip and entwining your fingers, “good morning my love. What prompted this?”

“Just wanted to show how much I love you, my darling.” He grins, “May I get back to it?”

You grin, “by all means, Ben.”

~~~

Taglist: @amneris21 @cocolovesorcs @drayshadow @fisforfulcrum @horreid @idreamofboobear @irrelevantbutembarrassing @joanofarkansass @salome-c @the-little-ewok @yours-truly-r

[wayward-dreamer]

Always Remember Us This Way

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Word count: 3,785 (prompt in bold)

Summary: Maintaining the facade of a normal life while hunting was harder than Dean had imagined.

Warnings: Swearing, Some fluff, Smut: Brief dry humping, Dirty talk, Unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it, people), ANGST, Tears, Sadness, Dean’s self deprication rears it ugly head.

A/N 1: This turned out WAY angsty-er than I was planning lol, but let me know what you guys think! Happy (not so much) reading and enjoy! :)

A/N 2:  This is for @deanwanddamons 2K Followers and 1st Blogiversary celebration! My prompt was: “I just wanted to take another look at you” from A Star Is Born. Congratulations lovely, and I hope you enjoy!

Dividers by @talesmaniac89.

It was a relief to drive through the main streets of Lebanon, Kansas after a hunt. It meant that all was well. Seeing the locals and driving past all their regular spots always centred Dean. It made him feel like he was back on familiar ground and he could breathe easier.

Dean smiled as he parked the Impala outside his favorite diner. He had dropped Sam off at the bunker and gone into town, but not to bring back food, as he always did. He closed the car door and leaned against it, crossing his arms across his chest as he waited. His smile widened as he spotted the reason he was there coming out of the diner.

Y/N smiled at him as she opened the door, carrying two large, white paper bags, no doubt filled with food. Her satchel hung over one shoulder, her uniform stuffed into it, having changed into a long, black summer dress with a floral print and flip-flops. Her Y/H/C hair was tied in a high ponytail, swishing side-to-side as she hurried over to him. When she reached him, he pulled her in by her hips and kissed her, feverishly. Her hands were full, but she leaned her forearms against his, wanting to feel his skin against hers.

“Hey” she whispered against his lips. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too” he smirked as he leaned in and kissed her again. “Sorry it took so long to get back.”

“Yeah, well… those roaches aren’t gonna kill themselves” she laughed as she looked into his eyes.

Dean hated lying to her about pest control being his job that took him around the country, but it was the only way to keep her safe from the life he really lived.

She held up the bags and smiled. “Bacon cheeseburgers and fries, and two slices of pecan pie.”

“You really know the way to my heart, Y/N Y/L/N” he smirked.

“Sure do, Dean Campbell” she said, pecking his lips.

Yet another thing he felt guilty about: not being honest about his name. The whole town knew him and Sam as the Campbell brothers, the ones that kept to themselves but were incredibly friendly and willing to help out in any way they could, when they could. If only they knew just how much he and Sam had done for this town.

“We blowin’ this joint or what?” he asked, as he held onto her shoulders and led her over to the passenger side of the car.

“Yes, please” she replied, as she walked ahead of him. He opened the door for her and she smiled. “Such a gentleman” she said, winking at him as she sat in the passenger seat.

Dean drove them to a clearing just outside of town, a place they considered theirs and had been to many times before. He always brought her here because it was away from prying eyes and countless questions if they stayed in town. He parked near a tree, the sun setting in the distance, glistening over the grass as the last few rays reflected off the blades. They got out of the car and Dean took out a blanket from the trunk, setting it down on the grass. Y/N sat down and folded her legs underneath her, opening the first bag as he settled down next to her.

“Thanks” he said, grinning as she handed him the wrapped burger and box of fries.

She watched as he dug in and hummed around a mouthful, laughing a little as he closed his eyes.

“Don’t judge” he mumbled around the bite, his cheeks bulging with burger.

She laughed again, leaning in and kissing his big cheek. “Never.”

They laughed and talked about random things as they ate, their conversation never sparking suspicions from her, which Dean was thankful for. As they talked, they both couldn’t help but remember how they met. He recalled how it was her first shift at the diner and she was completely lost, tripping over her own feet and landing straight into his arms as he launched himself out of his seat so that she didn’t fall flat on her face. One look into her Y/E/C eyes and he was done for. Y/N remembered staring up into his green orbs and seeing his perfect lips, wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of her days feeling them against hers.

By the end of that shift, he and Sam had eaten a free lunch and Dean had walked away with her number on a napkin.

That was nearly a year ago. In that time, Dean had been away so many times, sometimes spending weeks away because of hunt after hunt. She never questioned him, never doubted him and never accused him of anything. For all this, Dean knew he didn’t deserve her but was grateful all the same that he did have her.

However, he couldn’t help but feel that if things got more complicated with their Chuck situation, he would have to break it off with her. The last thing he needed was Chuck knowing about her. If he didn’t already.

After eating, Dean had laid back on the blanket, holding Y/N close to him as he gazed up at the stars. The sun had completely set over an hour ago, and they were basking in the light summer breeze that blew over them. Y/N’s head rested on his chest, her arm around his torso as she looked up at the sky.

“I wish we could stay like this forever” she said, softly. “I’d never let you leave” she let out a small laugh, not realizing how much that one sentence killed him.

He sighed heavily, the thoughts of what they were dealing with not leaving his mind.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she asked, moving her head to look up at him. The crinkles around his eyes were deep as his eyebrows were pulled tight into a frown.

He looked down at her, his face instantly relaxing as he looked into her eyes. “I’m pretty sure they’ll cost more than that.”

“Hey” she said, cupping his jaw. “Whatever it is… it’ll work out.”

He shook his head, closing his eyes. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” she asked in return, stroking her thumb along his jaw.

“Just know what to say without knowing the full story” he replied, as he continued to look at her.

“It’s a gift” she joked but frowned when she noticed he didn’t let out even a small chuckle. He sat up, his back to her as he stared up at the sky. Y/N sat up and scooted closer to him, trying to look at him as he turned his face away.

“Dean” she whispered as she cupped his jaw and slowly turned his face to look at her.

“I guess I’m just trying to figure out how you can trust me so easily, without knowing about my life” he lamented, shaking his head. It had always baffled him how she took everything in and didn’t question it. Not once.

“Because I don’t need to know about it” she said, shrugging. “I know your heart. I know you’re a good person. I feel it. That’s all I need to know.”

He smiled softly, shaking his head as he marvelled at the fact that she could be so open and trusting. He wished he could be like that with people other than her and Sam.

Dean leaned in and kissed her, passionately, lifting his hands to cup her cheeks. He deepened the kiss, humming at the taste of pecan and cinnamon on her tongue, feeling her hands move into his hair and her fingernails lightly scrape his scalp. She moved her hands down to his shoulders, lightly pushing him back to lie down as she slowly straddled his hips, her legs on either side of him. She leaned down and pressed herself into him, the kiss growing more eager. His hands travelled up and down her back, moving down her thighs and slowly lifting up the skirt of her dress. He pressed his hands to her smooth skin, warm against his palms. Her hips began to roll into his, slowly. She hummed against his lips as she felt his jeans begin to tighten, against her core.

Y/N continued to roll her hips against Dean’s, feeling her arousal grow and wet her lacy panties. She continued to move her hips, feeling Dean’s cock strain against the fabric of his jeans. She sat up; her palms pressed into his chest as she smiled down at him. Her hands moved down and her left one began to rub his hard on through his pants. She watched him bite his lip and smiled, both hands working to open his jeans. Once she had taken his belt off and undid his jeans, she sat up slightly and pulled them down to below his knees, doing the same with his boxers, seeing his hard cock spring free. She grinned mischievously as she slid her covered pussy back and forth against his cock, the fabric of her panties against his skin.

“Shit” he gasped, feeling the sensation of the lace against his hard on.

Dean reached down and lifted up the skirt of her dress, moving it to the side to see her black panties. He hooked a finger into the fabric and pulled it aside, biting his bottom lip as he saw her. He moved his thumb against the folds, feeling her wetness. She let out a small whimper as his thumb brushed against her clit, slowly circling it.

“Shit, Dean” she gasped, as his thumb picked up the pace a little. She softly grasped his cock in her hand and held it against her, rubbing the head against her folds. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, Y/N” he muttered as he watched what she was doing.

He took a hold of his cock, a cue to her to sit up, holding the head to her entrance. Dean moved his hand away as she slowly sank down, his cock buried completely within her. She moaned loudly, knowing there was no one around for miles. She began to rock back and forth slowly, humming when he grabbed her hips, his thumbs stroking her hip bones.

“Fuck” she gasped, as she pressed her hands into his covered chest, smiling down at him. “I missed feeling you inside me.”

“Shit, sweetheart… I missed being inside you” he agreed, as he began to move her hips a little faster.

She threw her head and moaned wantonly, meeting him thrust for thrust as she picked up the pace. “Don’t… don’t leave me again.”

Dean closed his eyes, trying not to let her see how affected he was by what she just said. He sat up and pulled her close, pulling down the front of her dress and the cups of her bra. He leaned down and kissed her breasts, her hands coming to the back his head to pull him closer. She moaned as he kissed and sucked at her nipples, pebbled from his ministrations and the breeze blowing around them. She thrusted down harder and faster, the moment far too overpowering.

“Dean” she said, moving his head to look into his eyes. “I’m so close.”

“Me too, sweetheart. I want you to cum with me” he groaned as he looked at her.

She grinded her hips down against his, feeling the coil in her core begin to tighten. Dean cupped her face, making her look him directly in the eyes.

“Look at me” he said, staring at her. “Look at me when you cum on my cock.”

She gripped his wrists tightly, looking at him with hooded eyes as her mouth curved into an ‘o’ as the pressure grew.

Their thrusts became erratic, as she felt everything build up. Suddenly, as they looked into each other’s eyes, the coil in her belly snapped, causing a loud, drawn out moan to leave her lips as her juices flowed down his cock. Dean let out a strangled moan as he stared into her eyes, cumming deep inside of her, coating her walls with his release.

They pulled each other in, hugging tight as they breathed heavily. Dean leaned his forehead on her shoulder, as she combed her hands through his hair. Neither of them wanting to let go of each other or the moment. Dean didn’t want to let go because then he would have to face the reality of everything he felt guilty for. Y/N didn’t want to let go because she feared if she did, he’d leave again, with no certainty of when he’d be back. She wanted to remember this moment and remember them this way. Together. Always.

They took a few moments to stay the way they were, before they redressed, packed up and left for her house. The car ride was quiet, holding a peace between them that they only felt with each other. They made love in her bed, making up for lost time and hoping that it would be a long time before they would have to separate again.

However, as Y/N fell asleep in his arms, Dean stared up at the ceiling if her bedroom. He knew the reality. He knew what he had to do to keep her safe as their situation with Chuck grew more dire.

He just wished he didn’t have to.

Dean woke up before her even though he had only slept for a few hours. He watched her for a few moments, a content, small smile on her face as she slept, her breath even. He slowly got out of bed, careful not to move too harshly and jolt her awake. He stood up and put his boxers on, going in search of his phone. His jeans had fallen at the foot of the bed and he picked them up, taking out his phone from the front pocket.

He looked at the lock screen, seeing a couple of missed calls and a message from Sam.

Didn’t want to bother you when you’re with Y/N but Cas has a lead on Chuck. Wants us to meet him in Colorado. Get back to the bunker soon, we can go over the plan.

Dean frowned. He had wished he had more time before they got something on Chuck, so that he could spend time with Y/N. He knew that was too good to be true.

“You’re up early” he heard her voice behind him.

He turned around, seeing her sitting up in bed, holding the sheet to her naked body. She rubbed her eyes and smiled at him, looking even more beautiful in the morning sun that filtered through the window.

“Yeah” he sighed, his voice betraying him, not being able to say anything else.

Dean watched as she wrapped a robe around herself and walked into the kitchen, getting the coffee started. As he dressed, he didn’t know how to begin to tell her he couldn’t stay for coffee. He couldn’t stay for a few more hours. He probably wouldn’t be back any time soon.

He may not come back at all.

Dean continued to watch her as he stood at the end of the kitchen bench, dressed and ready to leave. He didn’t know how to find the strength to tell her what he needed to. It was only going to break her heart and he didn’t know if he could live with that. However, breaking her heart was better than her being dead. Which she would be if Chuck ever found her.

“Just how you like it” she smiled as she brought over a mug of hot black coffee to him. She looked at him, not knowing what was about to happen. He wished he could keep it that way, that he didn’t have to say anything.

“I can’t stay” he said, clearing his throat of the roughness that had occurred due to his emotions. “Something’s come up. I gotta go.”

“Oh” she said, surprised and hiding her disappointment quite well. “When… when will you be back?”

Dean shook his head, wishing she hadn’t asked that. “I don’t know.”

She frowned, confused. “But… but you just got here.”

“I know, Y/N, but I have to go” he told her, slowly grasping her hand on the kitchen bench.

“Can’t someone else go?” she asked, shaking her head. Her voice was starting to shake as she tried to keep it together.

Dean smiled sadly. “I wish.”

“Why… why do I get the feeling this isn’t about a pest control job?” she asked, showing doubt in him for the first time since he met her.

“I’m sorry” he said, knowing any way he answered her question wouldn’t help her.

“You really don’t know when you’ll be back?” she asked, her voice small, not trusting it to speak any louder.

Dean felt that invisible hole within him become bigger, the guilt eating at him. “Y/N, I… I might not be coming back. At all.”

She flinched as she looked at him, pulling her hand away. “What?” She felt pieces of her heart beginning to flake off the longer she talked to him.

His jaw clenched, trying to keep himself together. “I might not be coming back to Lebanon.”

He didn’t want to do this to her but if something were to happen on this mission, he didn’t want to leave her with false hope that he would be coming back.

“So… so what does that mean?” she wondered, her eyes welling up.

He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and never leave, but he couldn’t. He had a job and responsibility. That had to come first. He couldn’t be selfish anymore. No matter how much he wanted to be.

Dean shook his head, not being able to say anything, hoping that gesture would be enough. Y/N felt a clenching in her chest, her heart no doubt breaking at the realization of what Dean meant. How, after a year of being each other’s rock, could it all be over?

Y/N felt Dean move in closer to her, leaning in to kiss her cheek. She shook her head, desperately grasping his jaw in her hands and kissing him hard. It was bruising and painful as they roughly kissed, pulling and biting, but it was a sign that neither wanted to let go. Tears ran down her cheeks as she kissed him, faltering as sobs took over her body. Dean pulled away from the kiss and held her against him as she cried. He leaned his chin on her head, his heart breaking as he listened to her crying.

“I…” she gasped, not being able to breathe. “I-I t-told you not to leave” she cried, shaking her head against his chest.

“I don’t want to” he whispered, his emotions getting the better of him too, as a tear rolled down his cheek.

“Then don’t” she sobbed. “Please.”

He shook his head, closing his eyes. “I can’t do that, Y/N. I’m sorry. I’m doing this to keep you safe.”

“I don’t understand” she said, looking up at him with her tear-stained face close to his.

He knew that she wouldn’t, but he had to say it all the same.

“I… I have to go” he said, cupping her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“I…” she trailed off, not being able to say it. She knew it would break them both if she did.

“I know” he whispered, smiling at her through his sadness. “Me too.”

Dean leaned in, softly kissing her lips. It was passionate, loving and held everything he felt for her without saying it. He reluctantly pulled away, quickly walking away. He walked to her front door and opened it, not turning back to look at her. If he did, he’d give in and stay.

“Hey” she called out from the threshold.

Dean turned around, seeing her looking more vulnerable than he had ever seen her.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

“Nothing, I just…” she smiled, shaking her head. “I just wanted to take another look at you.”

Dean smirked sadly, pushing down what he was feeling in that moment as best as he could. Every fibre of his being wanted to walk up to her and take her in his arms. Stay with her and never leave… but he couldn’t. He turned around and walked to the Impala, getting in and starting up the car. From the corner of his eye, he could see Y/N still standing on her porch, watching him. He started the engine, revving loudly as he pulled away from the house, tires screeching loudly and no doubt waking up her neighbors as he backed out and accelerated forward, speeding away from the house.

Y/N watched as Dean sped away, tears falling down her face as she continued to look out at the street, even after he had disappeared. She wiped her face and steeled herself, turning and walking back into her house. She shut the door behind her, as she went onto going about her day, as normal as possible.

She knew she had to shut down and stop herself from feeling the pain. It was better that way.

As Dean drove back to the bunker, his mind reeled. Had he made the right decision? Maybe he should’ve told Y/N the truth. Would she have accepted it and him? What would it mean for her fate if she knew?

He suddenly felt overwhelmed, his hands numb around the steering wheel. He pulled off to the side of the road, not being able to continue driving. He gripped the steering wheel tighter as he leaned forward, breathing erratic as everything took over at the same time. All the sadness. All the guilt.

He slammed his hands down on the steering wheel repeatedly, kicking the door open as he got out, leaning his hands on top of the car when he stood. He hung his head, trying to take deep breaths of the fresh air of the early morning. He closed his eyes, feeling the tears roll down his face. He wiped them away roughly, but more kept coming. He clenched his fists as memories of Y/N flooded his mind, the emotional weight of everything taking over him.

As he stood on the side of the road, trying to keep calm but failing, his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was most likely Sam, calling to find out where he was.

However, he ignored it as he quietly cried, his forehead resting against the cool metal of his beloved Baby.

His memories of Y/N were all he could think about as the weight of his mistake consumed him.

-x-

Tags: @flamencodiva @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @katehuntington @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma @parinarain @thoughts-and-funnies @mandalou29 @ellewritesfix05 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @supraveng​ @roonyxx​ @supernatural-love14​ @vicmc624​ @prettyboyswow​ @lunarmoon8​ @supernatural-bellawinchester​

[theladymeera]

theladymeera’s 2018 is Over Celebration!

So because I completely forgot about my blogiversary and then about the end of the semester I thought I could do a very simple year’s end celebration. I’m offering my fic writing skills and, if you want, what few editing skills I have. I’ll take requests for

Short fics (drabbles, one-shots)

Edits - they won’t be fancy or even particularly great but I’ll do my best. Maybe my skills will improve magically when you ask for something.

Moodboards - see above

Icons - see above, and because I’m cheap I don’t have a lot of options for making cool stuff right now but if you want an icon that you can’t find elsewhere I’ll see what I can do.

Rules - 

1) Must be following this swamp woman 

2) Reblog this post

3) Send your ONE (1) request via the askbox or messages

Rules for your request -

A) Specify what character or ship you want it to be about

B) Add a quote, prompt, or some description that specifies what you’re imagining.

C) Your requests should be GOT/ASOIAF related, I may accept a request for another fandom but this is an asoiaf-centric blog.

I cannot fulfill requests if they - 

Are too vague, obviously I’ll try to clear things up if that happens

Are NSFW, partly due to the tumblr censorship but also because I literally cannot write smut. I’m sorry but it’s not my thing.

And, sorry, but I can’t do stuff for my NOTPS which are Sansa x Petyr and Ramsay x Theon. Jon x Sansa, Rhaegar x Lyanna, and a couple others I can’t remember rn can pass but you’re on thin ice. Really if it’s not even in the realm of ‘my thing’ then it would be pretty hard for me to deliver, it’s not necessarily a ‘shame on you’ situation.

Event ends on January 1st, 2019!

Thank you for following the rules and have a happy new year guys!

[reverseblackholeofwords]

Happy blogiversary! We've never actually talked, but I followed you when you first started posting, cuz I figured it would be good to follow the story before it gets too complex lol. But you followed me back, idk if that was if you didn't expect so many followers or If it was on accident, but yeah! Congrats! Can't wait for more c:

Oh yeah, at first, I followed back as sort of a nice thing to do since I didn’t really expect to have many followers, and now… Well, I can’t do it much anymore, but I still appreciate every one of you!