#dean should be use to this haha | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 7 months ago

Text

The Tippington Affair

Summary: Y/N and Dean are unaware of just how similar they are.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: None really. Angst. Pining. Some making out. Kissing. Fluff.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 5,314

A/N: In February I got a request from a lovely anon asking this:

hiii :)) idk of you're taking requests rn, but i was wondering if you could write something with dean x fem!reader where dean really loves her for a while but hasn't told her and plan on never telling cause he just thinks he's bad for her or that he's "poison", but he sees her getting close to some guy they're working with and starts to get like suuuper jealous, enough to make him forget he's not supposed to be with her. I absolutely love your writing and your stories, I'm pretty sure I've read them all haha :)) thanks!

It took me a while to get to this, but I hope you think it was worth it! Thank you so much for this request, Nonnie. And I hope everyone else who reads it enjoys it too. ❤️

Master List || Dean Winchester One Shots || Tag Lists

Dean shouldered his big green duffle bag, slamming Baby’s trunk and frowning at his phone.

Dean scowled at the name “Tippington”. Scott Tippington.

What the fuck kinda name is Tippington? Dean thought angrily. Sounds like he should be taking cigars and brandy in the library instead of out hunting with a flannel and a shotgun.

Sam joined him back at the car, having just checked them in and got their room key from the front desk. He tossed it to Dean.

“203.” He told him and they bounded up the stairs two at a time to the second floor of the Sleep Eazzz Motel.

When they’d spotted the motel on the side of the highway and Dean mentioned stopping, Sam told him the name of the motel was too close to “Sleazzz Motel” and they should keep driving. But Dean had already been driving for almost twenty-four hours straight. Sam offered to take over but Dean said he needed to stretch out on a real bed.

“Plus,” he’d pointed out, “you have a habit of really riding the brakes.”

So, they’d stopped for the night.

As they walked through the orange motel room door, they both gave a relieved sigh. The outside of the motel was hideous, but the room seemed decent. It actually smelled and looked clean, there was a decently modern TV, one from the 21st century anyway, and to Dean’s delight, both beds had magic fingers.

They each picked a bed and dropped their bags. Sam sat on the end of his bed and ran a hand down his face before turning to his brother.

“Hey, did you manage to get a hold of Y/N? Is she coming?”

Dean dug into his bag and started taking weapons out to clean them, doing his best to seem nonchalant. “N’ah, she’s werewolf hunting down in North Carolina.”

Sam nodded. “Ah. Too bad, we could use her.”

Dean shrugged. “We got this, it’ll be fine.”

Sam grunted his response and started unlacing his boots. Dean sat back on the bed and laid out a cloth to set the weapons on before starting in on his 1911.

After a minute Sam kicked off his boots and pushed himself backwards so he was leaning against the pillows on the bed as he picked up the remote and clicked on the TV. Dean was quiet until Sam settled on an old episode of The Simpsons and tossed the remote aside.

“Hey, do you know a guy named Scott Tippington? ‘Nother hunter?”

Sam scrunched his forehead thinking. “Out of Utah? Tall guy, blonde?”

Dean shrugged. “I dunno. I don’t know him, that’s why I was asking you. What’s he like?”

Sam sat forward a bit to pull off his overly warm flannel. “Well, if it’s the guy I’m thinking of, I only worked with him once, a few years ago.” He darted a look towards Dean. “When you and I were, uh, apart. After Amy.”

It was awkward for a moment before Sam looked back at the TV and continued on. “Anyway, I don’t remember a ton about him, but we ended up on the same Rugaru case and we hunted it together. He was good, I think. If he was bad or stupid, I’d probably remember him more.” He looked at Dean again. “Why do you ask?”

Dean shrugged. “Oh, just Y/N said she’s working with him again. This is like the third or fourth case in a row they’ve worked together, so I was just curious.”

Sam smiled knowingly. “Ah! I get it now.”

Dean scowled at his little brother and then went back to aggressively cleaning the barrel of his pistol. “There’s nothing to ‘get’.”

Sam cocked an eyebrow.“You’re worried Y/N’s getting a bit too close with this guy.”

Dean scoffed. “Whatever. She’s teamed up with him a couple times, and I just wanna make sure he’s not a tool that’s gonna get her killed.”

“Uh huh.” Sam said in tones of disbelief.

Dean shook his head. “Shut up.”

He didn’t bother arguing the point with Sam any further because he knew Sam would see through him - had been seeing through him for the last four years, since the day they’d first had a run in with the former FBI agent.

***

Dean had been immediately blown away by her. She was a power and a force all unto her own, and she was immediately suspicious of them.

They were working the case of a shifter who was shifting into different parents, and snatching that parent’s kid. They were pretty sure the bastard was selling the kids to other monsters for obviously horrific reasons.

Y/N was only aware of the most recent kid, snatched ten hours earlier. She was on the case, knowing that a twenty-four hour clock was ticking. There were witnesses and CCTV camera footage of the boy’s father picking him up from school, so of course he was their prime suspect.

But when Sam and Dean came into the local FBI field office and said they’d been instructed to interrogate that suspect, Y/N had just frowned at them and asked to see their badges again. She’d studied them for a worryingly long time before handing them back.

She squinted at them. “You look kind of familiar to me. Have we worked together?”

Both brothers assured her they’d never met and demanded again to speak with the suspect in custody. She’d reluctantly agreed and taken them into the room. But they got little new information out of the incredibly distraught father.

As they were leaving, Y/N caught Dean’s arm and he’d been amazed with how much that little touch had affected him and how badly it made him want to pull her closer, cover her delectable mouth with his and see what she tasted like.

But she’d merely asked him one more time if they’d ever worked together. When Dean denied it again, she shook her head and let him go.

But early the next morning, she’d been outside their motel room, pounding on the door. Dean’s bed was the closest and he stumbled out of it, half asleep, to open the door. He stood there in his black boxers and gray t-shirt and she seemed momentarily surprised, looking him up and down before she pushed past him into the room.

“Hey!” He protested. He looked over at Sam’s bed, but it was already empty and made up. Probably out running. Dean thought with an internal eye roll as he grabbed his jeans and yanked them on as Y/N spun around to confront him.

“I know why I know you.” When Dean said nothing, she planted her hands on her hips.

“You're Dean Winchester. And that guy with you,” she pointed at Sam's bed, “is your brother Sam.” When Dean still stayed silent she moved her hands from her hips and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Also, you’re dead.”

She began pacing back and forth in front of him. “After a horrifying and bloody murder spree across several states, you were both killed - ‘decapitated’ the report said. When I called the sheriff who wrote the report, I found out that both he and his daughter, who just happened to be the coroner who processed the bodies, were also missing and presumed dead.”

She turned back to look directly at Dean and in spite of the seriousness of the situation, he found himself once again caught up in how beautiful she was, in the way her eyes flashed as she studied him. And once again he had the impulse to wrench her forward and crush her mouth under his…probably a bad idea, he thought.

Y/N eyeballed him, but he couldn't decipher her expression. Her voice was stern when she spoke. “I should be here to arrest the murderers who faked their own death.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “You’re not?”

She stared at him for a minute before she shook her head. “No, because you and your brother aren’t the only weird thing going on with this case. After you left yesterday I dug deeper into the case and stumbled across six other cases, from local municipalities, of missing kids. The cases had been reported to the FBI for consultation, but they all seemed cut and dry, so the locals took care of it themselves.”

She inhaled deeply, frowning at Dean. “The disappearances of all six kids were reported as parental abductions. In every case, there was footage of the parent picking the kid up from school, but every accused parent vehemently denied taking them. Four out of the six suspects arrested, also had ex spouses who refused to believe their former partner had taken the child because they were in very friendly and functional co-parenting situations. Oh, and all six kids were never found, and no body was ever recovered.”

She shook her head. “Now there is a seventh kid missing and it’s exactly the same situation. If you add to that, two fake FBI agents who are actually mass murderers back from the dead, well I gotta think there’s something more going on here that I don’t understand.”

Sam walked through the door just then, freezing when he saw Y/N standing in the middle of the motel room.

“Uh…”

Dean waved him in. “Come on in, Sammy. Time to give the talk.”

So, they’d spilled the beans about who they were and the life they lived. She didn’t believe easily, but eventually she admitted that there had been a few other cases in her ten year career that had felt off, that left her with a bad taste in her mouth about what was really going on.

She’d insisted on helping them find the seven year old boy that was missing, and with her help they’d found the shifter and put a silver bullet in his heart in time to save the kid and return him to his real parents.

After that Y/N tried to go back to being an FBI Agent, but eventually she came to see the boys.

“I can’t go back to pretending that everything is normal. Everytime we’re going after a suspect, I’m wondering whether they’re actually a monster in disguise, or if they’ve got a monster framing them.” She’d shrugged. “So, teach me to be a hunter. I feel like there’s gonna be a lot of career overlap, and hey, the FBI doesn’t pay great either.”

So they’d helped her out, but she was a very quick study and it hadn’t taken long for her to become a great hunter. They often worked cases together.

Or they had until a few months ago when Y/N had met up with Scott Tippington and started working all her cases with him.

Tippington. Dean thought again, dismissively. Definitely a douche.

***

“Cheers!” Y/N reached across the table and clinked glasses with Sam and then turned slightly to touch glasses with Dean who was sitting beside her.

He gave her a lopsided grin. “Cheers.” He said with a nod.

They all took a big gulp of beer and then clunked their heavy glass mugs back down on the table.

“So, how have you guys been?” Y/N asked, wiping her hand over mouth to ensure no beer clung to her upper lip.

Dean grunted non-committedly and she looked to Sam for further explanation.

Sam chuckled. “That’s Dean’s way of saying taking down that nest of vamps we went after, ended up being a bit tougher than we thought it would be. Three of the vamps were friggin’ huge and they didn’t go down easy.”

“Shit!” Y/N said, shaking her head and looking Sam up and down. “They were bigger than you?”

Dean answered. “Yeah, believe it or not. One of them picked Sam up like he was gonna bench press him and then chucked him clear across the room. Thankfully, I was too quick and agile for him to catch me.”

Sam snorted. “Yes, you were just like a ninja while the one with the beard had you in a headlock choking you out.”

Dean waved him away. “Got out of it didn’t I?”

Y/N chuckled and took another sip of her beer. Sam shifted his gaze from his brother to her and gave her one of his dimpled smiles. “How about you? How’d your last hunt go? Wolves right?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, and then a wraith on the way back. They were both pretty quick and clean. We took them out without a problem.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Right you were working with uh…what was his name again?” He asked, as though the name hadn’t been plaguing his nightmares.

“Scott Tippington.”

Dean picked up his cardboard coaster and began shredding it. “Right. You’ve worked with him quite a bit lately. I guess he must be good.”

Y/N shrugged a shoulder, smiling fondly at the memory of her most recent partner. “Yeah, he is. I like working with him a lot. He makes me laugh.”

Dean nodded, a little rapidly, she thought. “Oh that’s good. Important that your partner can tickle your funny bone just before a demon smashes your head into a wall.”

Y/N frowned. “He’s a good hunter too.”

“Huh.” Dean grunted. “That’s good.” He nodded. “I mean it’s obviously more important that he’s a good hunter so, you know, he's not gonna get you killed. But it’s great that you get along so well too. Important.” He finished with a mumble.

Y/N looked at him askance. “Yeah, I guess so.”

The table was quiet for a minute until the waitress came by to drop off more pretzels and peanuts for the table.

Dean turned a bright smile her way and Y/N felt her stomach lurch as he moved into flirtation mode. She’d seen it many times before, over the last four years, and it never got easier. It was, in fact, the main reason she’d started hunting with Scott. She’d needed distance from Dean. She couldn’t keep watching him walk out the door with yet another new woman under his arm.

But once again, his charm was in full effect as he addressed their waitress. “Thanks sweetheart.” The waitress had long, dark hair, big boobs and a short skirt. She also had a very sweet smile that she flashed his way, making Y/N wanna scream or scratch her eyes out - maybe both.

The waitress popped a hip out as she stood beside their table. “No trouble, honey. Can I get you anything else? At all?” She asked, her warm brown eyes entirely focused on Dean.

Y/N thought the woman was being a little obvious and forward the way she rested her popped hip against their table and leaned forward so that Dean had a fabulous view of the cleavage revealed by her low cut, scoop neck t-shirt.

Dean didn’t even try to hide his ogling and Y/N gritted her teeth as he leaned his elbows on the table, looking up at the waitress. His green eyes glittered brightly with obviously dirty thoughts and promises. “Well, I wouldn’t mind knowing what time you get off.”

The waitress blushed prettily and bit her lip. “Um, I’m off at midnight.”

Dean gave an exaggerated expression of surprise. “Well, how ‘bout that, midnight is just when I was planning to head home. Maybe we could meet up.”

Y/N was clenching her teeth so hard she thought she might crack one as the waitress giggled and nodded. “Okay, maybe you can give me a ride home.”

Dean stared straight into the woman’s eyes and slowly licked his lips before speaking. “Oh, I can definitely give you a ride, sweetheart.”

“Jesus.” Y/N heard Sam mumble under his breath, but she didn’t spare him a glance.

She was too intent on staring at the waitress who was practically salivating as she stared at Dean, before she giggled again and bounced away from their table.

Dean watched her go with his head slightly tilted.

When he swung his gaze back to her and Sam, he seemed slightly angry and she figured he expected them to bug him about his carousing while they were all just sitting at the table.

She wanted to make sure he knew she didn’t care, so she laughed. “Jesus Dean, why didn’t you just mount her right here on the fucking table.”

Oops, she thought, that sounded a bit more angry than teasing.

Dean shrugged a shoulder. “What? I wanted a date, I got a date.”

Y/N snorted. “A date? A date implies dinner and a movie, I doubt very much you’ll bother with either. You don’t even know the woman’s name.”

Dean scowled at her. “It’s Cindy.” Y/N raised an eyebrow and he shrugged again. “She had a name tag, and I notice things.”

Y/N snorted. “Yeah, especially when they're pinned to a pair of enormous tits.”

Dean wore half a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He drained his beer in one swallow and stood up. “I’m gonna go ask Cindy for another one.”

He sauntered away and Y/N took her hands off the table and shoved them into her lap so Sam couldn’t see her shaking.

She raised her eyes to his and plastered on what she hoped looked like a real smile. “So, Sam, how is YOUR love life going?”

Sam chuckled. “Non-existent and boring.” He took a sip of beer. “How about you?”

“Non-existent and boring.” Y/N said with a small nod.

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

“So…” Sam cocked his head. “You don’t have anything going on with this uh…Tippington guy you’ve been working with?”

“What? Ew! No.”

Sam frowned in apparent confusion. “Ew? Why ew?”

Y/N shook her head, her face still scrunched. “Because he’s the same age as my Dad!”

Surprise registered on Sam's face followed quickly by confusion. “Scott Tippington? Out of Utah?”

Y/N shook her head. “No, he's from Virginia, or…no West Virginia.”

“Oh.”

Y/N shook her head and then grinned at the idea of dating the grumpy old hunter. “I mean he's pretty good-looking for a 68 year old hunter. But…I think we're just gonna be friends.”

Sam smiled, chagrined. “That's probably a good plan.”

Dean sauntered back towards them and Y/N felt her stomach muscles tighten at his long-limbed, bow legged stride. Dean moved in a way that always made her take notice. When he was hunting, his movements were crisp and efficient, no wasted motions. He was precise and deadly.

When he wasn’t hunting though, when he was relaxed, he moved his body through the world with a kind of ease, loose and almost carefree. He reclined in chairs, leaned in doorways, and put his feet up on tables. He stretched and relaxed his tall frame into comfortable positions that always made Y/N wanna climb up into his lap and cuddle.

He plunked himself back down beside her with a new mug of beer. Y/N tried to make her grimace look like a grin.

“So, you got your evening all planned out?”

Dean nodded and took a sip of his beer. “Yeah, we’re outta here in about fifteen minutes.” He looked at Sam and winked. “Don’t wait up.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Wasn’t planning to.”

Y/N let some of her frustration show. “So, you’re really gonna ditch us after like a half hour. I thought we were supposed to be catching up.”

Dean’s jaw ticked as she looked at his profile. “I figured we were all done catching up. Your wolf hunt went great cause you had your amazing new partner and our vamp hunt went kinda shitty cause we could have used an extra pair of hands.”

Y/N scowled at him. “Seriously? Are you pissed at me for hunting with Scott? I wasn’t aware we’d signed exclusive contracts.”

Dean chuckled darkly. “N’ah, we’re definitely not exclusive. You are under no obligation to us whatsoever. So, you’re good.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Y/N said and Dean turned to look at her. “You’re seriously running off to spend the night with wonder tits over there because you’re pouting?”

“Wow.” Dean said with a head shake. “Whatever happened to the sisterhood? That was pretty rude.”

Y/N scowled at him. “You know, you’re right. I should do my part for the sisterhood by going over to that nice girl and warning her to find another ‘ride’.” She said, using air quotes. “Cause God knows she’s gonna come to regret it when she turns into just another notch on your belt.”

There was no hiding her annoyance now and she didn’t bother.

Dean dropped his jovial pretext too and turned to face her better. “Why the hell are you being so preachy and judgemental? Since when do you give a shit who I fuck?”

“Dean-” Sam started to speak but Y/N spoke over him.

“I don’t.” she denied vehemently. “But I mean, Jesus. Do you ever think with anything other than the dick in your pants? I mean seriously, it’s gross.”

“Y/N-” Sam tried again but Dean leapt to his feet, banging the table and sloshing their beer across the wooden top.

“For fuck’s sake.” Sam mumbled as he jumped up too, trying to avoid the beer streaming towards him.

Dean’s face was furious as he stared down at her. “Well I don’t wanna gross you out, so I guess I’ll just go sit at the bar till I’m ready to go.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, guilt plagued her when she saw the hurt in Dean’s mossy green eyes as she slid out of the bench seat to stand just in front of him.

“Don’t bother. I’m gonna take off, got a lot of driving between here and my next hunt.” She stared up at Dean, hoping against hope that he might tell her that they should both stay.

But he just smiled a tight smile. “Yeah, say hi to Tippington for us.”

Y/N gave a terse nod. “Yeah, whatever.” She glanced at Sam. “Take care, Sam. Hope to see you soon.”

She didn’t bother addressing Dean again, just turning away and walking out the door, wishing she could leave behind her feelings for him just as easily.

***

Dean grabbed a rag from the bar and wiped up the spilled beer before sliding back into the seat across from his brother who was frowning at him.

“Dean, what the fuck is the matter with you?”

Dean glared back. “What’s wrong with me? Nothing’s wrong with me. Why don’t you chase Y/N down and ask what the fuck’s gotten into her lately. She goes months without seeing me, us, I mean, and then storms away just because I had the audacity to make a date for later.”

Sam let out a frustrated growl. “You really think she was just mad you made a date, which, by the way, is a very loose translation for what actually happened with the waitress.”

“No, she was obviously mad and took off because she thinks I’m gross, cause she disapproves of my lifestyle, I guess.” He said, trying not to let the hurt bubble up.

What the fuck do I care what she thinks of my choices? He thought angrily.

Sam opened his mouth to say something more, but Cindy showed up at the end of their table.

“My boss let me off a bit early.” She smiled bashfully and nodded towards the door, clearly anxious to be underway. “Wanna go?”

Dean smiled at her and stood up, grabbing her hand. “Hell yeah, let’s go.”

***

There was a pounding on Y/N’s motel door that would have woken her up if she’d actually been asleep. But she’d just been restlessly tossing and turning, feeling guilty about Dean, but hurt over Dean too. The fact that he hadn’t texted back, clearly meant he was still on his “date”.

The long and short of it was she was in a rotten mood and the pounding on her door at two in the morning wasn’t helping.

Stupid drunken idiots next door.

When they wouldn’t take the hint and go away, Y/N threw off the covers and stomped to the door, throwing it open, ready to tell them to fuck off. But it wasn’t her neighbors on the other side.

“Dean!” Y/N exclaimed, her surprise turning into a frown. “What the hell are you doing here? Where’s your date?”

“I got your text.” Dean answered, brusquely.

He was staring at her, raking his eyes up and down her form standing in the doorway. Two spots of pink rose in Y/N’s cheeks as she realized she was just wearing a ratty old t-shirt and panties. She tugged self-consciously at the front hem of the shirt trying to ensure she was covered.

She opened her mouth to ask again what Dean was doing, but before she could get a word out, he’d pushed her backwards into the room with his hands at her waist. In one quick motion he kicked the door shut and spun her so he could slam her up against the wood-paneled wall.

She gasped, her eyes wide and her heart slamming against her ribs. Before she could get a word out, he was crashing his lips onto hers and sweeping his tongue into her mouth. He tasted like smooth whiskey and she was quickly drunk on him, her head reeling as his hands moved from her waist to grasp her cheeks and hold her steady.

His mouth ravaged her, pulling shocked and hungry whimpers from her throat. When he finally pulled his mouth away from hers, he simply trailed his silken lips down the length of her throat, while his rough hands strayed down her body to slip under the hem of her shirt and up her ribcage. His hands rested there, and he lifted his thumbs to brush tantalizingly against her rock hard nipples.

Y/N threw her head back, cracking it against the cheap wood paneling and knocking some sense into herself along with the slight pain.

She shook her head and pushed against his forearms. “Dean! What the hell? What are you doing?”

He pulled his head up, licking his lips and panting heavily. His hands stilled, but they stayed warm against her ribs.

She tried to make sense of what was going on, but his tantalizing lips were still hovering above her and it was everything she could do to not simply ignore her sense of reason and latch on to them again.

Instead she shook her head again and frowned. “Dean, what's going on? You were supposed to be on a date, remember?” She tried not to let too much vitriol into her voice, but felt like she’d failed.

Dean’s jaw ticked. “I just drove her straight home.” He paused, still breathing rough. “I don’t want her.” His gaze dropped to her mouth again and he bit his bottom lip. “All I want is you.”

Y/N shook her head, willing herself to wake up and live with the disappointment of this all being a dream. “Dean,” she whispered, “what are you saying? Where is this coming from?”

Dean’s gaze turned sad before he closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to hers. “Don’t date him.”

Y/N frowned in confusion. “Don’t date who?”

Dean shoved away from her and ran a hand through his hair as he began pacing. “I know I have no right to ask you, I have no right to you, no right to love you, I know I’m poison, I know I’m an asshole for trying to make you connected to me, I know I’ll never deserve you.”

He stopped pacing and turned to look at her. “I know Tippington is probably a much better option, but…” He strode three paces back to her and cupped her cheeks in his big hands. “But he can’t possibly love you more, want you more. I know that too.”

All Y/N could do was blink at him and then suddenly his words penetrated her brain and tears flooded her eyes and she begged her mind to just let her keep sleeping, keep living in the dream.

Dean’s face crumpled and he looked stricken. He pulled her against his chest and she buried her face there. “Shit, sweetheart, I’m sorry. It doesn't matter. Ignore me. It’s okay, I’ll be okay. You don’t have to say anything back. I didn’t mean to make you cry. Please don’t cry.”

His voice sounded choked and he rubbed a hand soothingly up and down her back. “I shouldn’t have come here like this. I’m an asshole, just ignore me, okay?” He repeated, and took a shuddery breath. “Date who you want, of course. Don’t cry.”

Y/N pulled back from the softness of his flannel beneath her cheek, raising an eyebrow as she shook her head. “And what if I wanna date you? Does that declaration of love come with dinner and a movie?”

It was Dean’s turn to stare blankly at her. She reached up and dashed away her tears before wrapping her hands around the back of his head and pulling his lips back to hers. Y/N kissed him for a solid thirty seconds before his brain seemed to kick into gear and understand what she was saying. When he did though, he growled and deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms tightly around her ribs and pressing her close. She reveled in the long, hard feel of him pressed up against her, the way she’d dreamed of him for so many years.

When they were both desperate for oxygen they finally broke the kiss and panted harshly as they looked into each other’s eyes, both of them thrilled when they read the real, solid proof of love in the other’s gaze.

Dean’s beautiful face split into an equally beautiful smile. “So, are you really picking me?”

Y/N smiled back warmly and let her hands rest against his scruffy cheeks. “Dean, I love you, and I choose you completely, over everyone, anyone. But…” She grinned at him mischievously. “Scott Tippington is sixty-eight years old and has never been anything more than a good hunting partner. Just so we’re clear.”

Dean frowned. “But Sam said -” He cut himself short before closing his eyes and shaking his head. “So, I was jealous of nothing.”

Y/N laughed softly. “Were you jealous? Really? Like me with the waitress…Cindy.” She gave a little eye roll.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, we’re a couple of dumbasses.”

Y/N punched him lightly in the bicep. “Speak for yourself. I wasn’t a dumbass, I was a tragic pining heroine. After all, you gave me no hints you felt this way; how could I have possibly known?”

“Are you serious?” Dean asked incredulously. “I did everything but climb into your lap and beg.”

Y/N laughed and then felt her body warm as she laid her hands on his broad chest. “I’d be onboard for that.”

Dean’s eyes darkened as he lowered his head and captured her lips in a long, languid, sensual kiss, just dipping his tongue in to taste her and sipping at her lips.

When he pulled out of the kiss to nuzzle the shell of her ear and then suck her earlobe between his plump lips, Y/N gasped and clutched his shirt in her hands.

“Please.” She whimpered.

Dean gave a soft, slightly wicked chuckle against her neck as he skimmed down her skin. “That was supposed to be my line, sweetheart.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

@arcannaa

@viviwatchestv

@winharry

@rizlowwritessortof

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

@aylacavebear

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2

#dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester one shot

120 notes · View notes

sitp-recs · 8 months ago

Note

Hi Liv! Not sure if you do recs anymore but I read the funniest Drunk!Draco fic last night called How Draco Won Spin the Bottle (and Outed Himself in the Process) by written in ash (?) I think.

Do you have any other drunk!draco fics? I may have developed a new obsession

Haha I love this ask! Drunk Drarry is always fun, here are some favourites:

Tastes Like Soap by InnerLilith (E, 4.6k)

Harry goes to the foam party hoping to finally have casual sex. Draco goes to the foam party expecting yet another night of casual sex. Harry and Draco do not have casual sex.

Born Slippy by dracoladon (E, 8k)

Harry finds that it's less 'one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor' and more 'one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, decide Malfoy's quite fit, actually, and decent company after your friends traitorous abandonment, floor.' With Malfoy lying next to you.

Ferocious Determination, Insufficient Deliberation, and a Slightly Wrong Destination by Faith Wood (E, 9.5k)

All Draco wants is sleep, but his bed won't stop talking. More importantly, it refuses to stop looking like Harry Potter.

Tales of Apparation Gone Awry by @thecouchsofa (E, 12k)

These are the things Draco has recently learned:

1: Don’t apparate while drunk or you’ll end up in Potter’s living room without fail. 1a: This is a Big Problem. 2: Draco is unable to keep his mouth shut while drunk. 3: Pansy is a shite friend. 4: Potter has nice thighs. 5: Draco maybe possibly doesn’t mind his apparation problem as much as he lets on. 5a: Potter doesn’t seem to mind much either

One Night at the Leaky by birdsofshore (T, 12k)

Harry should have known better than to accept a drunken dare. Especially when Malfoy was sitting right there, looking like that and wearing those bloody tight trousers.

Party of Two by fireflavored (E, 13k)

Drinking, sex, and a total misreading of the concept of fuck buddies.

Mixed Drinks and Crossed Wires by @korlaena (E, 16k)

Draco is a handsy drunk. Harry is okay with it, really. They’re friends, so it doesn’t mean anything.

Vanilla and Sweet Spices by FleetofShippyShips (E, 20k)

After the others leave an eighth year party, Harry still has the rum he snagged off Dean. But the only person left to drink it with is Draco Malfoy.

Take You Home by @lqtraintracks (E, 26k)

Everybody’s a little fucked up after the war, Draco especially. What starts as hate sex after a night out, eventually turns into something else, something more like comfort. And even though his friends all tell Harry he’s just being used, all Harry’s doing is making sure Draco gets home in one piece. He’s not falling helplessly in love.

Starts With a Spin by Maxine (E, 120k)

It started with the spin of a bottle, and now Harry and Draco have gotten themselves so far into their own game there's almost no way out again. Except to keep playing.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #drunk drarry #drunk draco

150 notes · View notes

so-much-for-the-seashells · 7 months ago

Text

Baking With BF!Dean Winchester Headcanons

✨ Dean Winchester x GN!Reader ✨

*sighs in 2014 was 10 years ago* Minors do NOT interact, this is not “rizz-ing!” Off you go!

A/N: I love writing these because they’re like half baked yet surprisingly endearing thoughts and it’s fun haha.

Icons by me!

All notes are appreciated! Hope you enjoy!

Content Warning: I have a bad sense of humor and make some sex jokes but nothing too explicit, at least I think so. Definitely still 18+

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

-3 favorite things to bake with him

1. Pie (obvs)

2. Brownies (sometimes with pot…)

3. Cookies (all kinds)

-okay, now that that's been established...

-one day you had jokingly suggested the bunker should do a cookie jar

-this was taken seriously; not only by Dean, Sam and Cas; but also by literally every regular passerby. Even Rowena's made a batch of red velvet cookies. (We threw those ones away, we couldn't trust that they weren't poisoned, made of blood, or both)

-but if it's just the usual crew (you, the brothers, and Cas) then you have a weekly rotation

-and Dean regularly suckers you into "helping" him, even though you both knows he’s capable of being a big boy (and I mean he is a big boy if you catch my drift) and doing it himself

-those candy apple green eyes work wonders

-anyhoo

-one of his favorite, stupidly cheesy things to do is as follows:

-you’ll have a taste of the batter/dough/filling, as one does (it’s always good cause the two of you together are an unstoppable force in the kitchen) (alone is a different story- it’s usually Kraft Mac n Cheese cups)

-and while you’re trying it, making faces, he’ll look over and innocently ask if he can try it

-like “Can I get some, sweetheart?” (And yes he most certainly can get some.) (batter, I mean) (definitely batter) or “can I try some, doll?”

-and no matter how many times he’s tried it you’ll say yes

-so he’ll lean down, cupping your cheeks in his rough hands and kiss you as passionately as humanly possible

-like, these kisses could literally bake the cookies or whatever because of how hot they are

-and he’ll make sure he really gets to try it

-and then he’ll pull back with a smirk, cause he’s done it at least 30 times before and you still let him and still like melt into a puddle every single time. Without fail.

-you guys like to put on Disney soundtracks in the background when you bake. High school musical and Moana primarily, but he’s also taken with the soundtrack of Julie and the Phantoms. (He complained about the show being unrealistic supernaturally speaking and then was adamant that there should be a season two and cancelling it was a crime worthy of hell)

-also, rock, obviously. As a fan of Bon Jovi, you best believe you sell him on them and slow dance to Bed of Roses while things are in the oven. It’s only right.

-if you’re listening to heat of the moment and Sam the baby giraffe walks in he will get those sad eyes, making both of you scramble to make him something else, like some keto hidden veggie brownies or some shit, to make him feel better

-now, in specifics

-pie is for fun. You two usually make one to split for after dinner. Roughly once a month, but should be more often. Well, that’s not fair if you count creampies

-apple is his favorite, ofc. You use Mary’s recipe, and you’re the only person in the whole wide world that he trusts with modifying it in any way

-you also make them for him if he’s sick or if you guys have for some reason had a fight. The latter is rarer, but does still happen on occasion

-it’s okay though, because pie will always make things better

-cookies are almost exclusively for the jar. These are made on random frequencies, usually a lot at a time.

-he likes butterscotch a lot, and you find a way to mix your favorite flavors into either one monstrosity or one beauty of a cookie

-you guys have in fact made your own recipe. It’s awesome. Like, prized possession material.

-and then brownies

-they’re literally just pimped up store bought mix. Preferably Ghirardelli, for maximum bougie-ness

-and then sometimes you guys add some fun time grass

-you’ll do that when you just want to have a soft night. You’ll always way up to him laying on you and holding you like a koala though- may your back be prepared

-overall he just really enjoys spending time with you in any way that he can and baking is a great way to do that

-Dean Winchester is precious

-I rest my case

If you have any ideas for more headcanons, send a request! My box is always open!

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester is a queen in the kitchen #supernatural x reader #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester smut

116 notes · View notes

lol-jackles · 2 months ago

Note

What is supernatural season episode or scene that you can't watch. From being just bad writing, acting etc. Or it just annoys

Wasting season 10 mid-season finale on introducing Claire Sue Novak of all people, holy shit 9 years later I'm still mad! First it was the Biggest Misleading Promo of ALL TIME FU SPN PROMO INTERN!!!! They knew nobody was asking for Claire Sue so they baited us with Dean+Mark of Cain=BadAss mid-season finale and haha you fool it was actually all about the character you never asked for. A Thousand Flipping Birdies to You SPN! And then they keep bringing her back, she was the horror show monster that just won't stay dead. Then in an idea that is only sightly worse than the prequel-turned-sequel The Winchesters, they tried to inorganically create a spinoff for her just so Jeremy Carver can get his residuals.

That episode had it all: bad writing, bad acting, bad execution. Remember how I said good acting comes from the authentic self? Claire was supposed to be a street hardened edgy teen but instead she came off looking like a Mean Girl Regina-wannabe throwing a failed tantrum because her phone was taken away. That's because Kathyrn Newton came from a family of old money and used her lived experience instead of her authentic emotion. She's gotten better at the acting craft and I liked some of her characters in her non-SPN projects, but she's not being casted in characters that require depths.

Also, whoever thought it was a swell idea for Claire Sue to have side braids should be shot.

#supernatural #claire novak

51 notes · View notes

zmediaoutlet · 1 month ago

Note

hello love <3 happy wincest wednesday!! do you have a favourite canon wincest dynamic shift? there are many times in the show where something happens that dramatically changes the relationship they have/how they look at it, and i'm wondering which one you find the most compelling. it doesn't have to literally be one moment-- eg. mine is the transition from s9 -> s10 where sam watches dean die and then dives HARD into curing the MOC after s9, where he's so deliciously withholding.

happy wincest wednesday!! we're back from the wincest wars! <333

goddamn, that's such a good answer I wish I could immediately steal it, haha -- especially with how mostly-unspoken it is. I'd also pull in there the thing that starts to happen in late s9, probably around the AAAA episode, where Sam starts to really notice what he said has done to Dean's mindset and is getting quietly worried, but can't actually -- say anything. Delish :pinchy fingers emoji:

There's a couple of faaantastic dynamic shifts -- after John dies and they have their rebel/loyalist flip; the thing that rots through s4 where pity and fear almost ruin everything; the thing in s3 where Sam really realizes what's about to slip through his fingers and starts to get wild. Season 6! Season 8! so much!!!

but for my heart-home I think I should pick s11, and very specifically this thing that happens in the kind of middle of that season where Dean seems to actually fully accept Sam's protectiveness, and it finally feels like the most equal version of the partnership. Sam did a horrific thing to save Dean's morality -- not even his life, which is kind of a cheap product, but to get back the Dean he recognized and loved -- and he says he'd do it again (with a little sop to 'and that has to change' -- lol, lmao. good luck with that, darling). Meanwhile Dean, who has indeed been a horrible shitbag for a while there, and still obv is in his Dean era of 'I'm the worst person who's ever lived' -- buuut Sam saved him, and brought him back from the brink, and proved maybe that there was something worth saving, as a result. Sam's got pretty good taste, after all. Dean's got another black mark on his soul with Amara's obsession looming over him, and Sam's got a fearful Lucifer-based worry crawling up his back, but -- something about the dynamic settles, and heals something that had been broken since that s9 moment you reference. Shit, it balances something that had been spinning a little wrong since s5, s2, since they were kids, probably. It becomes clear that this is a truly, thoroughly equal partnership, and that's something that... really hadn't been fully clear, all this time.

The specific moment I keep thinking of is the bit at the end of Love Hurts where Dean feels able to admit that his 'deepest desire' was Amara, and Sam accepts it completely without judgment, and then assures Dean that he'll do whatever he needs to do to help if Dean can't manage. Dean accepts it, even if he's embarrassed. That's just -- different. For so many years the Winchesters have been on this rocking see-saw, one of them in the dirt and one of them heroic and saving his brother. It used to be a joke. "Another season of Supernatural? Which one of them is gonna betray the other/die this year?" s11 represents a total break with that past into: they are a team. One of them can be weak and the other will understand and shore them up on the crippled side until they're whole again, and it's--fine. No shame and no worry that the partnership will be broken or weakened as a result. It's the fullest representation of the marriage that was gestured at in s8 -- tested, almost broken, repaired, now an alloy much stronger than steel.

There is a reason s11 is my favorite.

#altho s4 is equal favorite #you gotta get some rot so the repair feels all the sweeter #happy wincest wednesday #answers #ty ava #i shall hopefully await your own genius thots

31 notes · View notes

scoobydoodean · 3 months ago

Note

ever notice how no one dares argue with you guys? i think that's why the sources annoy them so much

PK dash simulator 2023:

Deangirls: [Post pro dean content]

Total strangers: Sorry to butt in [is not sorry]. I say this in totally good faith [I do not], but have you deangirls ever considered that maybe you're just too stupid to understand anything [pats us on the head]. I say this with all love and absolutely zero sources to support my assertions, but you are wrong about everything. You should probably leave the blogging about sErIoUs topics to us and just post funny things that poke slight fun at Dean. You wouldn't want to be insensitive to my personal trauma I've projected on the show, would you? 🥺👉👈 Picking at the other characters is acceptable but you need to make sure you make fun of Dean more. Otherwise, we might notice you actually like Dean the most and we might have to reconsider whether you belong here because liking Dean is actually very problematic if you're too serious about it. If you were intelligent enough to understand Supernatural, you'd agree with me and my friends, who are clearly your moral and intellectual superiors [pats us on the head again]. Don't make us come back here and try and shame you again for not thinking about Supernatural "right". We have other tools we can use to try and gain your compliance, like passing your posts around to all our friends, encouraging them to leave you deeply condescending, mocking, and passive aggressive tags. Or we could send you hate mail for months for discussing inconvenient facts that don't align with our views. But we're so nice aren't we? Hahaha. Yeah... everyone is good friends here. Anyway, I just thought you should know how things work here in case you forgot. Also Dean is the most popular so if you think there's bias against Dean here you aren't allowed to say that.

Me: What if you tucked your dick back in your pants and just went away from us?

Deancrits: Wow. I was being so nice. I can't believe scoobydoodean just threatened to rape me.

PK dash simulator 2024:

Deangirls: [blogging by themselves]

Total strangers: Do you guys think maybe deangirls are ruining the fandom by posting over in another area about Supernatural (2005) with their friends? I think it's kind of condescending for them to talk amongst themselves over there about stuff I don't agree on, don't you? Writing meta is actually pretentious if you think about it. They're also very boring and not fun. Maybe they should try making jokes. Wait but not like that because the joke should always be at Dean's expense. I mean haha I think we all agree that picking at the other characters is acceptable but they should make sure they make fun of Dean more. Otherwise, we might notice they actually like Dean the most and we might have to reconsider whether they belong here because liking Dean is actually very problematic if you're too serious about it. I mean obviously i don't think there's only one way to view the show haha. It's only deangirls who are so sure they are right about everything. I mean have you seen them adding sources to things? How stuck up. When I make assertions about how the show is, I just write down what I think and tell everyone it's fact and everyone claps and praises me for my moral superiority. Anyway, deangirls are ruining the fandom but I won't tell them this directly because I've heard they're all rapists, drunk drivers, and anti choicers, and they might make fart jokes that are insensitive to my personal trauma. Reliable sources told me all of this.

#in all seriousness we've just blocked the right people #and they have also blocked us jhsvefhgvdf #and courtney still gets hate mail all. the. time.#including about things they never talked about.#mail #dont feed the stans after midnight

34 notes · View notes

potentialguybodyswaps · 2 years ago

Text

Jockifacation

Being one of the smartest nerds in school sometimes had it perks, I mean sure most of the nerds got bullied and treated like shit by a lot of the school, especially the sports teams, but there were a few of us that were able to escape from the public humiliation that comes with being a nerd

Us top tier nerds, as I like to call us, we’re the ones that the Dean had picked to help tutor some of the more important students, like the ones who parents had made large Contributions, and the sports team, that all he really cared about, the people that really mattered.

As usual, the dean gave us nerds a heads up that a pop quiz was coming in some of the different classes we all shared with the assigned person that we’re in charge of making sure pass

The guy I was in charge of was one of the basketball players, his name was jake

He wasn’t the dumbest jock in the school, and thank god for that, I feel bad for the guy that had Brad, bro might have retard strength but also the intelligence of one.

atleast I can work with jake, might be annoying with his slow ability to grasp concepts and the constant side stories about the team, his latest conquest, how All this school work is pointless cause he’s gonna be a professional some day… etc

Jake was from a small red neck town and Texas and you could tell, he kinda stood out here in California with his accent and very little understanding of basic algebra, I guess they didn’t teach that were he’s from

it was probably around midnight when I finally got him to remember and be able to apply The Quadratic Formula, now Hopfully he can maintain it for 12 hours

“Aye bro thanks for helping me out with all this math shit, if you ever need anything partner just let me know” he said getting up to stretch

I got up to stretch too and crack my back

“I mean not unless you can make it so I don’t have to stay up late night tutoring members of the team because the dean demands it haha” i said laughing and smiling a sleepy smile at him

“Shiiiiit cuz, I got you just put this hat on” he said taking his hat off and handing it to me

“I mean thanks for the symbolic gesture but I don’t think a hat will do much” i said staring at it in my hands

“Just put it on bro, and you’ll be a part of the team” he said reaching over to guide it and place it on my head

“So is that it? Am I part of the team now haha?”

“Nah bruh, you gotta turn it backwards to start the uh, process”

“Start what process? some sort of initiati-“

I said as I felt it start

“Initiation? initially? Initials? No bro, initiation, god dam I had a brain fart for a minute there bruh haha…” I said stumbling on my words

“Bro? Bruh? What’s happening I don’t use those words!?” I thought to myself as my eyes started to glaze over

“There you go cuz, it’s starting, don’t worry, you should be a full fledged member in a few minutes, then you’ll never have to worry about tutoring again haha, the process kills quite a bit of brain cells” he said sitting back down smiling as he slowly closed his eyes

I tried to get up and take the hat off but I could barely move as I felt my mind weakening and my body was in too much pain as it reshaped it’s self to move

I could feel my thoughts get slower as my body changed more and more

“Mhmmmm b-b-bro h-help” I was able to mumble out, able to hear my voice getting lower

“Just let it take its course” Jake said not budging

My long shaggy hair got shorter and receded back into my scalp until it was short enough to fit inside the cap

My acne disappeared until my face was smooth and I could feel my face reorganizing itself, wholes appearing in my ears for some new giant fake earrings

Next was my sweatshirt I wore to hide my skinny frame dissolved into my skin as it looked like I gained 25 pounds of muscles as my arms became swole and my chest became hard with 6 pack abs from years of working out

“No that’s not right, I never spent years working out, going to the gym, I read books all the time and prepared for tests, played dnd with my nerd friends”

“Nerd friends? I don’t have those, I might skip leg day and not be on any teams but they always considered me a honorary member right?”

Next most of my jeans dissolved into my legs as my calf’s gain muscles from practicing in the gym and on the court with my fellow team mates

“Nah bruh, something about this isn’t right bro” I said standing up suddenly realizing I can move again

“But uh bruh I can’t remember what” I said taking the cap off to scratch my head

Jake looked over and jumped up looking concerned and walked over grabbing the cap

“It’s fine bro, we was just getting ready to go to a party, but the bitch hosting it sent out a text saying not to come for another hour, there was an issue getting the alcohol, we all know how much you like to drink cuz haha”

“Oh ok” I said setting down on the couch… some small part of me was screaming not to wear the cap but it was kinda stupid cause let’s be honest, I look hot wearing this cap

I put the cap back on and closed my eyes for a few seconds

I hadn’t noticed how weird I looked since my jeans weren’t exactly gone but were now Jean shorts

Didn’t matter tho cause my jeans morphed into some white shorts with a red strip to match my cap, right after that my underwear morphed into some tight American eagle pair as I felt my dick grow from 2 inches soft, to 4 soft.

“I can’t wait to go the party ima fuck so many bitches tonight” I thought to myself giggling like a dummy

Wait that isn’t right? I don’t get any bitches on my dick, no one wants to be with a small dick nerd, a 4 inch hard on is pathetic.

“Man what was that thought? I’m not a nerd! I’m a fucking jock bruh! And 4 inches being pathetic? Maybe hard, but that’s me just soft, I’m atleast 6 inches hard. never really cared to measure, chicks always seemed to love it when I fucked them, and if they think I’m small, their just fucking loose pussy bitches!” I thought to myself as I started getting hard pitching a tent

I opened my eyes to see Jake smiling at me

“Wtf you looking at bro? You gay or someshit? I mean that’s fine but just don’t try no shit with me bro” I said mean mugging him

“Nah bro, looks like you got some business to take care of, I’ll uh, be in the bathroom for a bit cuz” Jake said getting up to go to the bathroom

A small voice in my head was telling me something’s wrong, take the cap off, who wears hats inside?

But I decided there was something more pressing, and it’s in my pants

I pulled my shorts down to see my dick straining against my underwear, I pulled them down to let my dick flap out

I grabbed it to feel emence pleasure

I could feel something inside of me traveling down to my balls but I didn’t care, the pleasures were to much, felt like I’ve never jerked off before…

It only took me a few minutes for me to cum my brains out, figuratively and literally unbeknownst to my new jock brain, losing what little remains of my nerd personality, and 55 iq points, taking me down from 145 to 90.

“Fuck bro that felt great haha, i don’t know why I came so fast, must just be a fluke or something” I said to myself

Just then jake walked back outside

“Ya that happens to everyone at first when they go though the process of becoming a jock” he said smirking

“What you mean becoming a jock? I’ve always been one dude” I said a bit offended he didn’t think I’m a jock, I’ve hung out with jake for years now!

“Bro, we’re are we right now?!” Jake said throwing his hands up and looking around dramatically

“Uh my room” i said

“Ya and look at it, it’s a room for a nerd” he said looking at me with a look of annoyance on his face.

“Oh god, your right, I gotta change this shit bro, babes aren’t gonna find this attractive” i said looking horrified of my nerdy room

“Dam straight cuz, it’s ok, you just went from a nerd to a jock boy after all haha, it’s to be expected, especially with memory loss of your old life” he said with a smile on his face

“Now let’s go to a late night party” he said walking towards me throwing a arm around my shoulder and walking us towards the door

“Wait, so you’re saying I use to be a nerd? Ew what the fuck bro… is there anyway that I’m gonna turn back into a faggy ass nerd?” I said concerned

“Nah bruh, once you cum after the transformation it’s permanent, your one of us now dude, I hope you like it haha” he said laughing

“Ya I don’t really remember being a nerd but I bet that shit sucked ass compared to being a jock that can pull bitches haha, and good, I wouldn’t ever wanna go back despite what that voice in my head was crying about” i said laughing

“Oh that voice? Don’t worry about it, just like your chance to go back to your old life, it disappeared when you cummed” he said laughing smacking me on the back

#Bodyswap #transformation #permanent

907 notes · View notes

howsdeanshole · 2 months ago

Text

funny to me to imagine dean inviting dirk mint condition to a slasher movie marathon at the bunker post canon* and dean just completely not addressing the fact that he lives in a weirdo underground bunker full of magical bullshit. like at first dirk assumes it’s his like. insane GDT type collection of props and paraphernalia but then sam interrupts holding a spell book like dean did you use the last of the [rare magical ingredient]??? and deans like what? no! im not the witch in this house dude that’s you! and dirks like uhhh haha he’s wiccan? and deans like huh? oh, sam? he’s trying to write a spell to cure long term vampirism lol. anyway im ordering pizza, what do you want? and cas is sitting there the whole time inspecting popcorn kernels 6 dimensionally before eating them one at a time. as soon as dean leaves to call in the pizza order (who does that??? doesn’t he know you can order online??) dirk is like ummmmm i think i should go home. before i get disappeared.

#*post canon aka the one that i made up in my brain

31 notes · View notes

wehangout · 29 days ago

Text

Shameless DVD Commentary

The wonderful @i-think-you-mean-reduction asked for a DVD commentary on Suncatcher! This was the first time I'd read it since finishing, so that was a lot of fun, too! This whole thing got away on me, so hit that read more if you want to read more 💜 as usual, thanks to @callivich for starting this awesome idea!

Which fanfic is your DVD commentary about?

Suncatcher!

Give us some stats - (when you wrote it, word count, how long it took to finish, is it a one-shot/multi-chapter, etc)

Okay, I started posting this in March of 2022, which leads me to believe I started writing it in 2021 (I'm on a borrowed laptop, so can't check). It took some time to finish because ~real life~ and word count hits 58,592.

What was the initial inspiration for your story?

Oooh, okay. This post. If you don't want to click, it's a text post saying "au where thief!cas tries to ride dean's dick and keep track of when his flashdrive is done stealing the contents of dean's computer at the same time". Obviously, that kind of scene never happened in Suncatcher, but vibes, you know?

If the story is written from a character’s POV, why did you choose this character?

Mostly Mickey because almost everything I write is Mickey pov. But I did experiment with this by writing those 3rd person Ian snippets, and literally the only reason for it is so the reader could be there for that moment of realisation when Ian figures it all out.

What was your favourite scene to write?

I don't know that I have one, but I really enjoyed the scene where Mickey asks Ian to come to Mexico. Getting to write them being soft, even just for a minute, was nice. And literally any of their flirty banter was fun to write lol.

How did you come up with the title?

I feel like this doesn't need an explanation, lol. I will say, though, I had three other titles in mind. I had "Denouement", "Encontrar", and "Atrapasol". Encontrar means "to find" in Spanish (because I knew it would end with them in Mexico), while "Atrapasol" means "suncatcher". At least, according to Google translate lmao.

Are there any little moments or references you hope readers will notice?

I did a reread in order to write this commentary, so, please, have a list of moments, foreshadowing, and references.

* Mickey's nautical-themed sleeve! “Sailing? Nah, man. I just really like pirates.” Get it? Because he's a thief? And pirates steal shit? Literally no one caught onto that haha * “Uh … growing up the way I did, I’m probably better at the B&E itself rather than tryin’ to solve it.” -- Mickey literally says this in the first chapter lmao * His mind doesn’t go over every detail of the North Side burglaries and he doesn’t obsess over the thief committing them. No thief. Just a bartender. Just Mickey. -- Um, hello? * “Never gonna give that up, are we?” “Never gonna live it down.” “Those aren’t the lyrics.” “Okay, lyric police.” -- 27 Dresses, thank you * Ahh, Mickey's blowjob tattoo. The amount of erotic tattoo designs I looked at for this, but nothing was right. Until Mitch 💜 * He snorts. “Clearly you don’t know many writers.” “I don’t. Should I?” “No. They’re the worst.” -- I'm dying 😂 * Well, this really has turned into a commentary, huh? Apologies. * "A little dry, to be honest." Chapter 3 and 9. Did anyone catch that?

Was there anything you struggled to write? If so, how did you overcome this?

The last two chapters. Life completely turned upside-down on me and I couldn't write a thing. Zero motivation, infinity depression. Then, at the beginning of this year ... I dunno. I don't know what happened, but suddenly I was writing again and I haven't stopped yet.

Favourite line in the story?

“Catch me if you can, motherfucker.”

“Two, I give you the keys to the cuffs and leave. But first I suck your dick until you come down my throat.”

“I’ll give you what you want, Red, you just have to decide what you want more; the thief, or his mouth?”

“I didn’t do anything,” he whispers. “You did everything, Ian.”

“Interesting,” he says. “I was already half in love with you by then.” 😭

“I’m gonna fuck you now. You know that, right?” You groan and drop your head. “You might just break my fucking heart if you don’t, Gallagher.”

“So long as that lover is you, Gallagher.”

Did the storyline change in any way as you wrote the story?

Yeah, but only chapters 9 and 10. Initially I was going to write Ian having a depressive episode and Mickey talking to him about everything while he was down, but I hated the idea. I didn't want it to seem like Mickey/the thief was the cause of his episode, and I also didn't want to use it as a tool. The idea changed into a possible attack on Ian, but that still wasn't working for me. So, instead, you got the scene with Mickey handcuffed and Ian asking questions. I switched the vulnerability around and made it way more fun.

If you are writing a particular trope or genre, was it your first time writing this?

Nah. A little crime with my romance is my go-to lol

What are you most proud about in the story? (plot, characterisation, dialogue, twist/cliffhanger, etc)

Finishing it. Kidding. Kinda. Not really.

Actually, though, the dialogue and banter is pretty good. It reads very natural, so I'm proud of that.

Are there any deleted scenes that didn’t make it to the final story?

Only what I mentioned above. I wrote the attack on Ian, Mickey sitting with him in hospital ... it wasn't good.

Are there any ‘behind the scenes’ info you’d like to share - e.g. what’s going on in a characters head in a certain scene or how you came to write a certain line?

Oh, the moment where Ian finds the camera and leaves it. He'd just heard Mickey tell him that he stopped watching before things got interesting, and that's what he's thinking about as he puts the camera back down with a smirk. About Mickey not stopping just as things get interesting. I had thought about writing it, too. A scene where Mickey doesn't close the laptop, working consent into it and Ian putting on a fucking show

Reading back the story now, is there anything you’d change or add?

I don't think so. I'm pretty happy with most of it.

Would you ever write a sequel to this story?

Kinda did. Wouldn't be opposed to doing more. All the cream pie banter I'm rereading is def giving me inspo for if I write more of them oops

Are there any ‘easter eggs’ in your story - e.g. references to other stories you’ve written, a trope you often use etc?

I think I mentioned this in the commentary for Thicker Than Forget, but Jim Morrison/The Doors lyrics. I don't know, man, it just works for me haha.

Also the name thing - Gallagher/Ian/baby and Mickey/Mick.

There's also the line "It’s gone from bartender and customer having a bit of fun flirting and teasing, to silk sheets and Nine Inch Nails pounding through the speakers." - The NIN might be a reference to Help Me (Tear Down My Reasons) 😏 iykyk

Were you nervous or excited to post this story?

Excited. Probably more excited to post ch2, though, just for the reaction to Mickey being the thief haha

Did you have a beta or a friend who helped you as you wrote?

@whaticameherefor always 💜

Ask your followers to pick a snippet (no more than 500 words) and share your thoughts about it.

@i-think-you-mean-reduction asked for the scene where Ian asks Mickey on a date which I've pasted below.

A couple of notes on it:

The Riverwalk Cocktail Festival is a real thing in Chicago

I put a stupid amount of research into finding them the perfect date and this just fits.

Reading it back, I love that the Mickey doesn't think of the thief or anything to do with that shit once during this conversation. It's just two guys who like each other, and one's asking the other out on a date. It's just happy.

I think Mickey was so surprised that Ian was asking him out that everything he said and felt and thought was genuine. He even has a moment of "Fucking finally" that he doesn't mean to say, but 100% means.

I'm sad they never did it.

“Just my gut.” He pauses. Smiles. “Speaking of … in the interest of trusting my gut with my personal life as well as my professional life, have you heard of the Riverwalk Cocktail Festival next month?” Your heart skips a beat. Yeah, you’re heard of the fucking festival, and you can’t believe Ian’s doing this. “I’ve been a few times,” you tell him. “Sandy and I go under the pretence of work, and then get shit-faced.” “Okay, so do you maybe wanna go again?” He fingers go back to the coaster, but again he keeps eye contact. “But, you know, with me instead of Sandy.” There’s nothing romantic about the Riverwalk Cocktail Festival unless you go to the Riverwalk Cocktail Festival with romantic intentions. If you go with a date then it’s stupidly fucking romantic and you and Sandy used to talk shit about those assholes every chance you got, but … But the idea of being one of those couples, of going with Ian and having it be romantic … it makes you sick to your stomach how much you like the idea. “You askin’ me on a date, Gallagher?” He stares at you, eyes wide and honest. “Yeah.” “Fuckin’ finally.” You don’t mean to say it. You think it and you mean it, but you don’t mean to say it. Ian’s smile, though, makes the slip worth it. “So that’s a yes?” “Yeah.” “Good.” He smiles. Fucking beams. “Because I’ve already bought tickets, so I would’ve been kinda fucked if you’d said no.” “You already bought tickets?” “Some might call it presumptuous; I call it optimistic.” You shake your head. “Ian, man, those tickets are expensive as fuck –” “Doesn’t matter.” “Matters. At least let me pay you back for mine.” You already know he won’t let you pay for both of them. “Not a chance. This is me trusting my gut, asking you out, and feeling really good about it.” A smile pulls at the corner of your mouth. “Oh yeah?” “Yeah.” He smiles right back. “You wanna pull me out of that good feeling, the one I get when you agree to go on a date with me, by bringing up my money woes? Or do you wanna talk about our date and agree upon matching outfits?” “You better be fucking joking.”

Anything else you’d like the readers to know about the story?

So, as mentioned above there was a good chunk of time where nothing was updated. If you were someone who left a kudos or a comment or messaged me on here during that time, or even continued reading when I finally updated, please know it meant a lot.

#shameless dvd commentary #suncatcher #jen talks #my fic #gallavich #ian and mickey

27 notes · View notes

bitterkarella · 1 year ago

Text

Midnight Pals: X-Men

Stephen King: Submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of when the X-Men fought the literal embodiment of hunger King: it was for a charity comic Poe: oh right right of course Lovecraft: of course Barker: gotcha Koontz: wowww! x men!!

King: so kitty pryde goes to the get some food King: but then suddenly King: she starts losing weight! King: now normally King: i think that sort of this is good King: usually i think the opposite is way scarier King: but this time King: it's bad

King: what's the cause of Kitty Pryde's unnatural weight loss? King: it's the evil mutant ghost embodiment of hunger King: the monstrous force known as King: "hungry" Barker: ba ha ha ha Poe: clive

Barker: "Hungry!?" King: yeah, his name is hungry Barker: like, the adjective? King: yeah i Barker: ah ha ha ha King: i don't see whats so funny King: yeah, his name is hungry King: see, this one time he said to his dad "i'm hungry" King: and his dad said "hi hungry, i'm dad"

King: anyway the point is that its about kitty pryde King: that super hero you all know and love Koontz: i like superman! superman is the best super hero King: ha ha well dean you're certainly entitled to your opinion King: there's no reason for us to fight King: King:

Alan Moore: [appearing in a clap of thunder] who dares call upon the arch magus? King: we need you to settle an argument Moore: speak your question, mortal, and gain wisdom King: who's the best superhero Moore: Moore: do you have any questions that aren't about that

Moore: the arch magus can see through time, control the very movements of the cosmos Moore: and you dare to ask a question about comic books King: well i just thought since you love comics so- Moore: the answer is herbie popnecker King: Moore: herbie popnecker is the best super hero

King: i'm sorry, herbie popnecker? Moore: yes herbie popnecker King: Koontz: Barker: Poe: Lovecraft: Moore: "you want i should bop you with my lollipop?" Moore: haha it doesn't get old!

Moore: i must now return to my mountain fortress [disappears in a clap of thunder] King: Koontz: Poe: Barker: Lovecraft:

#midnight pals #the midnight society #midnight society #stephen king #clive barker #edgar allan poe #dean koontz #hp lovecraft #alan moore

640 notes · View notes

peanutbutterandbananasandwichs · 15 days ago

Note

I have spent years trying to come up with a charitable explanation for Supernatural viewers blindly accepting certain parts of the show framing, and I think the best I can do is that they’re too willing to suspend their disbelief. To engage with a story, we have to accept the premise and roll with it, even if internal logic doesn’t align with real world logic. It’s why we accept Indiana Jones is a good archaeologist despite doing approximately nothing in that job description, and making it clear that if he operated in the real world, he’d be a terrible archaeologist - the movies set goals, and he achieves them. Supernatural viewers are willing to do that. They accept the Supernatural cop show premise. They accept that demons are evil and that the demon blood is therefore a worse thing to be addicted to than any real world substance. But because the internal logic doesn’t hold up - Sam’s doing the same thing using his powers he always was, the people asserting it’s evil are untrustworthy, we see no personality changes, fewer people are getting hurt not more - we should be resorting to real world logic instead and no longer suspending our disbelief. And from real world logic, the story becomes “Sam has an addiction and is punished and stigmatized for it”. A lot of viewers just get stuck on the internal logic, and don’t make the leap to the fact it doesn’t actually make sense in terms of the established rules of the universe.

Hey anon sorry for the late reply, hope you still see this. I agree to some extent with the general thrust of what you are saying (although I think its maybe TOO charitable for some people haha).

I think you are right in that there is an issue with people being unwilling to step outside of the (easiest, most obvious) narrative of the show. However I'm not sure personally I'd define that as being an issue of "suspension of disbelief" and more perhaps a difficulty or unwillingness to look beyond what is directly presented to them by Dean on screen and to take that as verifiable fact, as opposed to viewing him as an extremely unreliable narrator with a very particular worldview that contorts the narrative he presents about Sam. I think where this distinction is most clear to me is that to me even within the world of Supernatural what Dean (and Bobby) did to Sam in the panic room was still Wrong and cruel. I don't think we need to apply exterior "real world" morality for that to be true, just a POV outside of Dean's? There were other things Dean could have done, other approaches even within the interior logic of the show, he chose the most extreme one, because the panic room wasn't just about getting Sam "clean" it was also about punishing Sam for trangressing the Sam/Sammy, the human/monster, the us/them divides. "At least he dies human."

(also love the Indiana Jones explaination of suspension of disbelief, as an actual real life archaeologist you best believe my belief is suspended lmao)

#replies

20 notes · View notes

eclecticpatrolroadlawyer · 9 months ago

Text

Chapter 3

Summary: Bucky and Y/n are in arranged marriage. Bucky is having an affair. This is all it is about... Let's see where Y/n's fate lies... Should we?

Pairings: Bucky x reader, Bucky x Dot, reader x Dean Winchester

Genre: angst, affair, unrequited love, blurb

Illicit Affairs

chapter 1 chapter 2

5 months later after Dot and Bucky's meeting (i.e. 3 months earlier)

Dot's POV

Taking a deep breath, I enter the restaurant with a gentle smile, scrolling through my phone to check for any messages. Spotting Bucky at a table, looking out the window, I smile and walk up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder to make my presence known.

He jumps a little at the sudden touch, turning to see me, a breath of relief escaping him. "Oh. It's you…haha yeah, it's you," he says, his tone a mix of surprise and nervousness. Ignoring his initial reaction, I reply with a smile, "Yes, of course, it's me—on our date, whom you were expecting." I tease him playfully, and he chuckles, shaking his head. "No, no… nothing… Yes, you are right, my bad, doll."

As Bucky chuckles at my teasing remark, I decide to add a bit more to lighten the mood.

"You know, for a moment there, I thought I might have been replaced by a secret agent or something. I mean, the way you reacted, I half-expected you to say, 'The eagle has landed, mission accomplished,'" I quip, a playful glint in my eyes.

Bucky bursts into a genuine laugh, his earlier tension dissipating. "Well, you caught me off guard. Next time, I'll try to keep my spy skills in check," he jokes, raising an imaginary spy hat.

We share a laugh, the atmosphere lightening, and I take a seat across from him. The initial surprise forgotten, we settle into the easy rhythm of a date, enjoying each other's company amidst the cozy ambiance of the restaurant.

In the midst of our date, he excuses himself for a bathroom break, and as I patiently wait, a soft glow emanates from his phone. Intrigued unintentionally, I glance at the screen, revealing 24 unread messages from someone labeled 'wife.' The weight of that word hits me like an unexpected storm, and my breath catches. I double-check, my eyes fixated on the screen, and time seems to come to a standstill. Emotions surge within me—a tumultuous blend of confusion, heartache, and an unfamiliar ache that words struggle to define. It's an unusual feeling, foreign yet poignant, as the realization dawns that I might have merely been a fleeting moment in the tapestry of his life that he shred.

As he returns from the bathroom, I attempt to hide the inner turmoil, plastering a smile on my face. The weight of the discovered messages lingers, creating an invisible barrier between us. We resume our conversation, but my mind is a filled of thoughts, swirling with unspoken questions. The restaurant buzzes around us, but something's off.

As the evening unfolds, the once vibrant colors of our date now seem muted. There's a feeling like things were messed up—the threads of his life kind of tangled. Silence wraps around us, punctuated by the clinking of cutlery and distant chatter. The air between us gets heavy, and we sit in quiet, the noise of the place highlighting the unspoken things hanging there.

"Are you okay?" His hand on mine grounds me, but I'm lost in a whirlwind of uncertainty. I nod quietly, my lips parting, struggling to find words to calm the chaos within.

Questions torment me—confront or ignore? Logic demands answers, but my heart quivers at the thought of the truth. I stare at him, silently pleading for reassurance, as if hoping he'll unveil this as a prank, a figment of my imagination.

The unsettling image lingers, and with a heavy sigh, I unconsciously let out, loud enough for him to hear, "It's all a mess." Each word carries the weight of confusion, hurt, and a yearning for things to make sense again.

Days pass, the weight of the unanswered questions lingering between us. The air is thick with tension, and I find myself unable to carry the burden of uncertainty any longer.

One evening, as we sit in a quiet corner of the park, I gather the courage to break the silence. The golden hues of the setting sun cast a warm glow, yet my heart is heavy with the unspoken.

Taking a deep breath, I look into Bucky's eyes, searching for the truth I desperately need. "Bucky, there's something on my mind, and I can't keep pretending everything is okay. I saw those messages, the ones from your 'wife.' Can you please help me understand? I need to know what's happening."

The words hang in the air, and the park's serene ambiance contrasts with the storm brewing within me. His reaction, his response—everything is poised on the edge, waiting to unravel the tangled threads of our story.

"Bucky," I shake him gently, my voice trembling with fear and desperation. "Who's she? Are you married?" I ask again, louder this time, my hands shaking as I cling to the hope that it's all just a misunderstanding. "Tell me it's not true. TELL ME IT'S NOT WHAT I THINK IT IS!" I shout, unable to contain the rising panic and anguish within me.

My outburst attracts a few curious glances from passersby, but I try to regain control, taking a deep breath to steady myself as tears well up in my eyes.

"I… I need to go," I whisper, a quiet plea to escape the unbearable truth. As I make to leave, I see the disbelief in Bucky's eyes, his shaky breath betraying his inner turmoil. His silent plea begs me to stay, to listen, but I can't bear to look at him any longer. Disappointment floods me as I meet his gaze, shaking my head in silent reproach. Closing my eyes, I let a few tears slip down my cheeks before gathering my purse and walking away, leaving him alone at the table.

After reaching home, I close the door behind me, leaning against it as tears cascade down my cheeks, finally allowing myself to release the flood of emotions I've been holding back.

"I trusted him," I whisper to myself, the words heavy with betrayal and disbelief. I sink to the floor, clutching my legs to my chest, burying my face in my hands as I cry. Each sob feels like a dagger to my heart, a painful reminder of the shattered trust and broken dreams.

As the minutes pass, I cry like a child, the weight of my heartache crushing me. I curse myself for being so foolish, for letting my guard down and allowing myself to love so deeply. Bright colors of hope and happiness that once filled my heart now seem distant and faded, replaced by a darkness that threatens to consume me once more.

The pain is unbearable, a relentless ache that pierces through every fibre of my being. I feel lost and alone, abandoned by the one person I thought was my safe haven. It hurts—oh, how it hurts—more than I ever thought possible.

"I gave it my all, and he gave me nothin' at all," I murmur to myself, the words heavy with resignation and sorrow. In the quiet solitude of my home, surrounded by the echoes of my own pain, I confront the harsh reality of unrequited love. Despite pouring my heart and soul into the relationship, it feels like I've received nothing in return but heartache and disappointment. It's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that I gave everything I had to someone who couldn't—or wouldn't—meet me halfway.

The days stretched on, each one a painful reminder of the shattered pieces of my heart. I bury myself in work, in hobbies—anything to distract myself from the gaping void left by Bucky's betrayal. But no matter how busy I kept myself, his absence lingered like a haunting shadow.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the world outside grew still, there comes a hesitant knock at my door. My heart skipped a beat as I approached, uncertainty mingling with a flicker of hope.

Opening the door, I am met with the sight of Bucky, his usual confident demeanour replaced by an uncharacteristic vulnerability. "Can we talk?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with regret.

Part of me wanted to slam the door shut, to shut him out like he had shut me out. But another part—a part that still holds onto the memories of love and laughter—couldn't turn him away.

I nod silently, stepping aside to let him in. We sit in awkward silence for a moment, the weight of our unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispers, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I messed up. I never meant to hurt you."

His words stir something inside me—anger, hurt, but also a lingering spark of longing. Against my better judgment, I find myself drawn to him, the magnetic pull between us undeniable.

Before I can stop myself, I close the distance between us, my hand reaching out to touch his cheek. Our eyes meet, and in that moment, the floodgates of desire open, the tension crackling between us like electricity.

One kiss leads to another, and soon we are lost in a hunger that had been brewing quietly. Clothes fell away, our inhibitions tossed aside as we surrendered to the primal longing that surged within us.

In the heat of the moment, all thoughts of pain and betrayal melted away, replaced by the intoxicating rush of passion and desire. We collapse into each other's arms, spent and breathless, even though I know it is wrong, even though he has a wife.

Soon I find myself entangled in an illicit affair.

Make sure nobody sees you leave

Hood over your head, keep your eyes down

Tell your friends you're out for a run

You'll be flushed when you return

Take the road less traveled by

Tell yourself you can always stop

What started in beautiful rooms

Ends with meetings in parking lots

And that's the thing about illicit affairs

And clandestine meetings and longing stares

It's born from just one single glance

But it dies, and it dies, and it dies

A million little times

Leave the perfume on the shelf

That you picked out just for him

So you leave no trace behind

Like you don't even exist

Take the words for what they are

A dwindling, mercurial high

A drug that only worked

The first few hundred times

And that's the thing about illicit affairs

And clandestine meetings and stolen stares

They show their truth one single time

But they lie, and they lie, and they lie

A million little times

And you wanna scream

Don't call me "kid"

Don't call me "baby"

Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me

You showed me colors

You know I can't see with anyone else

Don't call me "kid"

Don't call me "baby"

Look at this idiotic fool that you made me

You taught me a secret language

I can't speak with anyone else

And you know damn well

For you, I would ruin myself

A million little times

Note: Hey guys! Hope you like it. English is actually my second language so if there's any mistake you can inform me by messaging me privately. And PLEASE REBLOG AND DON'T STEAL MY WORK. Please like and comment too so, that I can know your views. Thank you for reading guys! Have a nice day and please comment if you wanna be tagged in.

Taglist: @angstysebfan @cjand10@learisa @themorningsunshine @binkszamsstuff

@dreamerglassesgirl @winterslove1917 @perfectpieslimeprune@nikkivillar @bethexo07 @vicmc624 @pattiemac1 @ozwriterchick @rqse-writes @mega-kittyglitter-1

96 notes · View notes