#help from the living Bunker
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in my mind dean was always supposed to get older and become the new bobby. like ok you're a hunter, maybe a little new to the scene and still figuring things out. and you're tracking down a werewolf, easy case. except some things don't line up quite right and now you're thinking it might not actually be a werewolf. so you ask around a hunter's bar and they all say the same thing. go to this one bunker in the middle of nowhere in kansas
and you're like sure what the hell. you're stumped anyway, might as well check it out. maybe it's a weapons storehouse or something. but then you get there and there's a doorbell and a bee-shaped welcome mat out front and you're starting to think you've got the wrong place. the door swings open and there's this middle aged guy with a robe and batman pyjama bottoms. and he laughs at the look on your face and tells you to come in, he doesn't bite. not since he got that vampire cure, anyway. you're not sure what to make of that last part but he winks at you when he says it so you figure he's joking. maybe.
he gives great advice about hunting everything under the sun and if you stick around long enough he'll go on and on about how he saved the world at least five times. ok sure. you don't want to be rude so you just sit there and sip your coffee politely while he talks about some guy called chuck and how much of a bitch he is. and another guy who's aged a little more gracefully comes padding down the hallway in a metallica t-shirt and rolls his eyes. has he told you about tvland yet? ('i was just getting to that part!')
if you go to the basement you'll find shotguns filled with salt, wooden stakes, holy water, and demon-killing bullets for sale. and if you're lucky the witch who sells hex bags might be around. low-grade curses only, of course. you better leave the powerful stuff to the professionals. and she'll get in trouble if she gives you anything stronger, not that she can't be persuaded. a girl's gotta make a living after all and she's always encouraged eager new witches. it's worked out pretty well for her so far. and then a guy you swear is twice your height will raise an eyebrow at her and insist she only sell the weaker hex bags, please. you don't need any more witches in your coven, rowena. you've got plenty
pagan god giving you trouble? there's a man who swings by every once in a while who knows how to deal with those. give him some candy or a fun magic relic and he might help you out. it depends. he's a little picky about dishing out advice and he likes to play favorites. and if you've got a demon problem they can give you the number of a guy who swears up and down that he used to be the king of hell. but you've seen him walking around with a purse-sized terrier tucked under his arm and a dozen more following him so you're not really sure if you believe him
idk i like to think that dean got to grow old and retire. that doesn't mean he stops helping people, it just means he hangs up his coat and becomes an old man who rambles on and on about 'back in my day' and makes a dent in his leather armchair. there's a foosball table where the dungeon used to be and sam complains about beer bottles being everywhere and it becomes a safe haven for anyone still fighting the good fight. it's just that for dean and the rest of team free will the fight is over. they're done hunting now
#THIS GOT AWAY FROM ME BUT. i was thinkign about the spn finale and what i'd picture as a happy ending for tfw (mostly dean sorry. samgirls)#adn like. i dont think dean would ever give up helping people but i also think at some poitn in time he'd recognize that the way he views#hunting really does hurt him. n maybe eventually he coudl be convinced to take a step back yk? and be a little more hands off like bobby wa#and YES im givign rowena gabe adn crowley happy endings too. up to you to decide if htey live in the bunker now. (i think crowley does at#least once he abdicates the throne. he went full will graham and has like a hundred dogs n dean complains about how much mud they track in)#supernatural#dean winchester#castiel#rowena macleod#sam winchester#gabriel spn#crowley macleod#crowley spn#the pig squeals
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I have an intimate truth to share: I think Sunday would be a very cute name for a shoni baby who lives on a farm with her two moms. Sunday Shalifoe??? They could call her Sunny!! C’mon it writes itself!! And if she looked just like Shelby?? The material is there!! 😭😭😭
#also I think the idea of the B-side of the wilds (s3-4) taking place in the future and flashing back to the bunker and post-bunker times#would’ve been very interesting if like shoni are together living on a farm with their little baby having this happy private life only to be#dragged back into drama with the rest of the girls who maybe they haven’t seen or spoken to in sometime all because of Gretchen finally#being caught and them having to go to court and we learn through the flashbacks that shoni lost touch but reconnected some time after being#for real rescued and and flashbacks that go a little further back reveal that maybe Shelby kept quiet about something or helped Gretchen ge#away or simply as a reward for not saying something to the fbi back when they were rescued Gretchen gives Shelby Toni’s information which i#the whole catalyst and reason they were able to reconnect and it puts a big strain on their current relationship when it’s revealed cuz#Toni thot their reunion was one of genuine chance like the universe randomly bringing them back together but turns out that’s not true bc#Shelby clearly sought her out and then ofc through flashbacks that go all the way back to bunker times it’s revealed Shelby was working as#confederate which is just another thing she lied to Toni and the others about and right when you really think shits going sideways and thei#marriage is going to implode from all this there’s ANOTHER dramatic reveal which is like the real reasons behind Shelby agreeing to be a#confederate which probably have something to do with Martha and the court case or Toni’s mom or something in the vein and Toni realizes tha#Shelby did it for her/to protect her and then shoni is back on baybeee cuz that’s her baby mama frfr!!!!!#the wilds#long winded and full of holes but that’s all I got#toni shalifoe#goodfoe#shelby x toni#shoni#shelby goodkind#Toni x Shelby#shoni baby
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TW: implied nsfw, implied noncon/dubcon, poly yanderes, sprained ankle, captive reader, apocolypse au, talk of fertility, murder of unnamed characters, mentions of potentially killing reader
fem reader
Just thinking about the apocalypse, the two army men who’ve long survived it in their shelter with barely any trouble, and then you, a poor girl trying hard to outrun your last captives only to run into them.
You didn’t realize back then that it was like trading piranhas for sharks, too caught up in begging for their aid to think better of it. You should have just kept running, but your ankle was sprained badly, maybe even broken, and you were wearing so little you would most likely have died from the cold during the night if they hadn’t taken you in.
It seems unfair of them to have kept the giant bunker all to themselves, only the two of them, but you don’t judge. You would likely have kept it all to yourself as well.
This new world has bred new humans, and they’re all monsters. It’s honestly quite surprising they’d even let you in, given this is what they’re protecting, this sanctuary from the past, a comfort most people would kill their closest friend in exchange for.
Trust is all but dead, and so is honor or any other morality—you would know, you’ve lived out there for it all, only having survived by spreading your legs at the right moments. It’s a shameful tactic, and many times, you’ve wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to spare yourself and just die. What was the purpose?
This—you think. This must be it. They have showers and working hot water.
You don’t know how it’s possible—the original owners of the shelter must have been some type of millionaire. You haven’t had a warm shower since the world went to shit—years ago. It’s been a choice of waiting for rain or finding a lake, hoping it wasn’t rancid. Meanwhile, they have soap—scented soap, the lush kind you’d forgotten existed. It feels so nice you have to cry—rejoice—sobbing while lathering yourself, watching all the filth go down the drain, leaving you smooth-skinned once again for the first time in forever. You can’t remember having ever been so clean before, feeling reborn.
They have fresh clothes for you too—new socks and underwear, all clean fabrics, so much more than what you wore—pants, a shirt, and a sweater to keep warm. You didn’t know there still existed people who lived like the old days—you’d thought it was long gone, a bittersweet dream you sometimes have the pleasure of at night instead of the usual nightmares. Never had you thought you’d experience anything even remotely similar, but here you are—looking yourself in the mirror after so long, surprised to see a human looking back at you.
And they feed you. Not scraps, not leftovers, not rot, or days-old flesh from the last successful hunt—but freshly baked bread, vegetables, fruit—for fuck’s sake, they even have juice. You cry again while eating, and then you find yourself begging them again, “Please, let me stay—please, I’ll do anything. I can cook, clean, work—anything at all, I can do it, just please let me stay…”
You’re on your knees, forehead pressed to the heated metal floors—toasty and comforting, you think you could sleep better than ever right there.
“We’ll think about it,” one of them mutters as he gathers the plates. His voice was so harsh he might as well have said, not a chance. It’s clear by his frown that he’d rather send you right out again, leave you to the monsters.
“We’ll at least let you stay until your ankle heals, so don’t worry.” The other is more sympathetic, helping you up. “For now, let’s get you to bed. You must be exhausted.”
It hadn’t crossed your mind that they’d have beds—actual real soft downy mattresses and duvets and pillows. The two of you help make it together. It feels so foreign that you wonder if you might have died earlier. Some years back, you wouldn’t have thought heaven would resemble a prison cell, but now it only made sense—safe metal walls and a bed. What more could one possibly want in the world?
“I’ll wrap your leg for you if you sit.” He holds out a bandage roll, gesturing to your ankle.
Blinking, you can’t even register what he’d just offered until he’s getting down on his knees before you.
You panic, then. Bandages are hard to come by—it hardly seems worth it. “There’s no blood, you shouldn’t waste it—”
“It’ll heal better and faster this way,” he adds reassuringly. His voice is so soft and compelling that you find yourself sitting down without further quarrel, even when it makes you feel spoiled.
He’s gentle with you—holding you steady while wrapping it just tightly enough to be supportive. There hasn’t been a man who’s touched you like it.
“Does that feel okay?”
You can barely tell he’s talking to you. It’s all so lost on you that you can only wordlessly nod your head.
He fastens it just as carefully before standing. “Is there anything else you might need?”
You shake your head just as wordlessly. You can’t believe how nice he’s being. It makes no sense at all. Not in this world. Not anymore.
“I’m sorry, but I’m gonna have to lock the door,” he apologizes with a sheepish look once standing on the threshold.
You’d been stuck thinking about how warm the room was, trying to remember a single time you hadn’t been freezing during the night. “That’s okay, I understand,” you say. After all, what’s a locked door in comparison?
“Good,” he smiles—it’s likely the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. “Alright then, good night.”
Once again, you’re left stunned. The last time you’d heard those words spoken must have been from a loved one long since dead. It makes your lip wobble again as you say it back, “Good night.”
It's strange—they could have left you for dead but didn’t. They don’t seem gullible—they can’t be if they’ve managed to protect this place for so long—but you suppose there still exist men who have a soft spot in their hearts for helpless damsels in distress.
As you sink into the comfort, draping your duvet atop your battered body, you don’t even care about the camera in the ceiling—blinking red while watching you.
“Did you have to bandage her up?” he grumbles as the other walks into the bedroom after having said his goodnights to you.
He’s already in bed, observing through the cameras on a tablet—you were currently curling into the duvet, wrapping it around you close for comfort. You’d likely not slept on anything so soft in a while—it wouldn’t surprise him if you preferred the floor. But no, you drift asleep quite quickly.
“You know how badly things can heal without proper support,” the other answers, regarding it as no big deal. “And besides, it’s not like we often need it—we have plenty to spare.”
He removes his clothes and crawls onto the bed as well, lifting the covers to slot himself right next to the other man, who still has a scowl on his face.
“Oh, come on…” he drawls. “She’s exactly what we’ve been talking about, isn’t she?”
The grump doesn’t answer, still with keen eyes watching you, even as you’ve fallen asleep—as if waiting for you to do something befitting a wild animal in a cage. The other’s eyes fall to the screen as well, but he only awes in delight.
“Look at her, already fast asleep,” he purrs while zooming in on your face. “I mean, did you see how she was begging earlier, what she said? I’d do anything,” he continues, almost whining. “So cute, I could have fucked her right then and there.”
The other man sets the tablet aside with a disagreeing sigh. “We’ll wait at least a week for her system to detoxify from the wasteland,” he says strictly. “I’m not touching her before then, and neither are you unless you want to sleep alone.”
The other groans then, flopping down on his back. “Yeah, yeah, you and your safety protocols,” he dismisses before a smirk creeps up his face, glee twinkling in his eyes as he looks up at his grouchy counterpart. “But then we keep her, right?”
“Tch—we don’t even know if she’s fertile. The wasteland could have made her barren as long as she’s been out there,” the other shuffles down into the sheets as well, turning to look at his partner and the awfully keen look on his face.
“So we test her. Give her a medical check,” he says, again as if it’s not a problem, even when it very well could turn out to be.
They’ve already broken quarantine rules by letting you in here—and who knows what your real objectives truly are.
“I don’t trust her,” he states.
The other pouts. “I don’t see what one little lady can do—she’s hardly a threat. And we already purged the group that was following her. I doubt any of them made it out alive.”
True, he had gone out and sent several gas grenades into the settlement. Surely, none of them managed to escape, but then again—
“Pest control only works when you kill them all, and we’ve just let one inside our own house,” he grumbles.
The other one sighs. “Okay, so if it turns out she isn’t as cute as she looks, we’ll deal with her like the rest. But if I’m right, and she really is just a harmless little thing, we keep her, and I get to have the first go.”
Suppose there isn’t anything better to do aside from killing you straight away, which would only have been a waste of food, water, clothes, and bandages.
“Fine.”
The other grins at the agreeance, humming, “I guess until then, we’ll just have to make do with each other—I've been hard since we watched her shower.” He leans forward for contact but is shut down as his bedmate rolls around with his back turned to him.
“Tch—take care of it yourself.” Tonight has been too stressful to tug each other’s dicks.
He can hear him whine behind him, but he settles down soon enough.
Suppose it would be nice fucking a woman again. It’s been so many years he figured he wouldn’t need it anymore. They’ve made do with each other so far. But even he can’t deny, once you’d washed all the blood and muck off, once he saw the dewy hue of your soft skin and the silk of your hair, all those plush curves, and not to mention that awfully sweet look on your face—he felt the tug in his pants too.
He'll do a medical check on you tomorrow. He hopes you’re fertile. But even if you’re not, he might give in to the other’s wishes and keep you anyway. After all, they might have many luxuries, but the comfort of pussy is one they haven’t had in a long, long, long time.
♡ BNHA – KiriBaku, BakuDeku, ShinKami, DabiHawks, EndHawks, ErasurMic ♡ JJK – SatoSugu, ItaFushi, SukuIta, ♡ HQ – Miya twins, KageHina, BokuAka, ♡ CSM – AkiDen, YoshiDen ♡ BLLK – NagiReo
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere smut#yancore#smut#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia smut#mha smut#yandere mha#yandere bnha#my hero smut#my hero academia smut#bnha smut#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut
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imagine running from a horde of zombies after you were caught off guard and sprinting through a forest, hopeless and desperate because you can't seem to shake off this horde that seems to be growing in numbers, until finally you come across a shelter carefully concealed in the pinewood, almost blending into the surrounding landscape.
the man living there must have seen you running in the distance because when you pass by, the door opens and shuts like a spider's trap, and he drags you inside and holds you to his chest so you don't so much as twitch until you hear the horde pass by. and it's large. hundreds of undead groaning and rushing by, almost clambering over one another, still thinking that they're in pursuit of you. your heart is smashing against your ribcage because you realize now that there's no way you could've outrun them or gotten away - the man at your back is the only thing standing between you and certain death.
he introduces himself as Gaz and tells you that you can spend however long you'd like with him. he's been living in the woods since the outbreak and he's been stockpiling food and water since long before. one of his old army buddies bought the bunker almost a decade back - a real prepper-type, though he passed well before the apocalypse and left the property to Gaz in the absence of any family.
you're so appreciative of his help and you aren't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so obviously you take him up on his offer and spend the week.
only when days go by and you mention that you're thinking of heading out now that the horde has long passed, he talks you out of it. seems concerned about what'll happen to you if you're on your own out there. you let him convince you to stay a little longer, but sure enough, after another few days you start to get jittery, anxious to get back out on the road because the last thing you want to do is overstay your welcome.
then you see the locks on the door. it's padlocked shut, the key nowhere to be found. you don't remember there being locks on the inside. that's the only thing you can think when Gaz comes up from behind you, planting both of his hands on your shoulders, almost as if to offer you reassurance.
"don't worry, love," he murmurs, bending low so his voice is right in your ear. "i'm gonna keep you safe. you won't ever have one of them chase you again."
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Urgent 🆘️ call: 🚨🍉 Please help..🥺😓🙏
My name is Falastin, and I am a mother of three small children, ages 5 years, 2 years, and 3 months. I am not very good with social media, but I am writing to seek your help to give my family in Gaza the chance to live their lives again.
Due to the ongoing genocide we in Gaza are experiencing, my family need your help to survive, leave Gaza, and find safety.
In november 2023 last year, i lost three of my cousins from my mother's family with their wifes and children's, some of them still under the rubble untill now.
In mars 2024 this year i lost another 2 cousins in Alshifa hostpital, this shock after three months of the first lose was a big slap into our face, it was a harsh reminder that death didn’t stop, and that none of us is an exception in this genocide, not a woman nor a child, everyone of us is a target to the death machines above our heads.
My family has lost everything. Some of them have tragically passed away, and those who remain are without shelter, moving from one temporary place to another in a desperate attempt to stay alive. Currently "After more than 20 times of being displaced and having to leave our house escaping from rockets and death " they have fled south and are living in a makeshift tent made from plastic bags and torn clothes.
Each day is a battle for survival. Each day, my family wakes up not knowing if they will have food to eat, clean water to drink, or a safe place to rest. Their homes have been wiped, and their children sit sleepless waiting their death. In Gaza, there is no where to seek shelter, no bunkers, nowhere to hide. Gaza is no more than 40 kilometers long and 10 kilometers wide with a population of just over two million. Gaza's border is completely surrounded by fences and barbed wire. The only way out of Gaza is to Egypt.
I used to introduce myself as the youngest in the family but in this GENOCIDE I’m a big sister who see her siblings’ future getting lost in front of her eyes, as i see my brothers kids who are still young and supposed to be in school, my mom who is 73 years old unable to find her medicine, as I see them, I made it a mission to myself to save my family or who’s left alive from it, to save their future from all of this and to escape Gaza.
Despite everything, I still have hope to save those who remain of my family. But I need all the help I can get from every person on earth. This challenge is not easy for me, especially since I am not good with social media and i dont have so many follower to reach and ask them for help. However, I am trying, and maybe with your support, the impossible can become possible.
Asking for your help is the only way I have to save my family’s life and future. Your help can be our hope when hope seems far away. Because of that, I appeal to your generosity and compassion, asking for help so that we can gather the necessary funds to help my family.
Photos of "Lina," who was born at the start of the war, and she is now 9 months old. Your donation could give her the chance to survive, leave Gaza, and find safety with her family.
I would like to thank everyone who has donated, shared and supported my campaign so far. Your generosity has given us hope in the darkest of times, and I am deeply grateful.
So far, we have raised 3,950 SEK of our 2,000,000 SEK goal - August 15th. While this is a small step, it is a crucial one, and it shows that together, we can make a difference. We still have a long way to go, and I urge you to continue sharing our story and contributing if you can.
Every donation, no matter the size, brings us closer to saving my family and giving them a chance at life. Please read and act as if it were your family, your mother, your siblings in these conditions. 🙏🙏🙏💔💔💔💔
Important note: Donation value:
** 1$ = 10.5 Swedish kr
** 10$ = 105 Swedish kr
** 100$ = 1050 Swedish kr
** 1000$ = 10500 Swedish kr
VETTED and shared by 90-ghost, also as no. 282 in The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet compiled by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi and shared in the masterpost.
We have also been verified by Al Jazeera News. Here is the video. I added this video today, august 15th. Its showing my cousin and aunt in the hospital, where she shares how the Israeli army airstruck them with their kids. Listen to my aunt Suad "Em Mhammed".
Best regards,
Falastin and her family.
#humanity#charity#donate#gaza#palestine#humanitarian aid#gaza genocide#free gaza#help gaza#pray for gaza#signal boost#boost#please boost#donations#fundraiser#fundraising#boosting#gofundme#go fund them#free palestine#freedom#free gazze#end israeli occupation#end israeli apartheid#israel#genocide#gaza mutual aid#mutual aid#mutual funds#human rights
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𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬
→ premise: there existed no such cricumstances in which dean doesnt want your lips against his. bloodied, bruised, even with broken bones, a kiss from his girl makes it all better.
→ pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader
→ warnings: tw: blood, fluff, but some sort of instense making out, established relationship, descriptions of blood and injuries, blood in mouth, nicknames [baby, sweetheart, my girl], reader is described a bit to have anxiety
→ a/n: as always i hope dean isn’t too out of character as i have never written for him! enjoy my loves :) and sorry its short.
A hunt had gone south they got the monster and it was done but Dean was injured, they were headed back to the bunker. That was all Sam spit out over the phone, normally you appreciated his ability to get straight to the point. Currently you were cursing it as he hung up shortly after cause he was the one driving back. You had a million and one questions running through your head and more than half of them weren’t good.
This was the part of the boys going off hunting and you staying back that you hated the most. When one of them got hurt or something went wrong and all you could do was sit there, a chill running down your spine as your blood boiled in your veins, anxiously pacing the living room, trying to not let yourself jump to the worst conclusions which you regularly failed to do.
You used to go on hunts with them and instead of you currently being the one riddled with anxiety, it was Dean. Once the two of you pulled your heads out of your asses (as Sam would say) and realized you’ve had feelings for each other for years, you got together. Being officially together seemed to make Dean's protective nature increase tenfold. He was even more terrified to lose you now than before. He began fussing over you whenever you'd get even the slightest scarpe or bump on a hunt. He would glue himself to your side the whole duration. Forcing you to normally stay back in the motel room when the hunt turned into a more dangerous situation than dean cared to put you in.
You loved Dean but it began to get a bit too tedious to deal with and even Sam made a comment on how overprotective he was being. In an attempt to make hunts go easier and ease your boyfriend's anxiety, once you all situated yourselfs in the bunker you suggested to him that you go out on hunts less, especially when they could now take Cas. Dean jumped at the suggestion but you couldn't blame him.
“I think that's a great idea baby” he said with a kiss to your forehead.
You still helped out, researching things when Sam needed the help, going through old books and files in the library, patching them up when they’d come back with cuts and bruises. You hadn't realized just how jittery you'd be however stuck in the bunker when he was out and especially when they went on far away hunts.
They'd go to the hospital when things were really bad, so you knew if the boys were on their way back then it couldn’t be too bad. The reminder did nothing to sooth your racing thoughts, your heart thumping so hard you could practically hear it pounding in your ears. You didn't know just how long you've been pacing back and forth, too afraid to look up at the clock and realize it's only been a few minutes since Sam called.
You don't hear the sound of baby pulling into the garage, your head is too clouded as you were damn near about to wear a grove down into the old floors. The sound of a door shutting loudly and two sets of heavy footsteps are heard down the hallway. Spinning so quickly on your feet you nearly lose your balance you turn to face the noise. Watching as the brothers emerge from the dark hall, Dean's arm rests on Sam's shoulder almost using him like a human crutch. You let out a small gasp making them stop and both of their eyes snap up to yours, weather you gasped in surprise at the state of your boyfriend or in relief you can’t tell.
“Hi sweetheart, We’re home” Dean tilts his head, his voice laced with his usual sarcasm and deep tone. He pushes off of Sam, clearly able to at least stand on his own, slowly making his way over to you a small limp in his step.
In the blink of an eye you’re rushing into his arms, your soft hands grabbing ahold of his beaten up face and crashing your lips against his. He grunts out a “fuck” in surprise or pain the word dying in his throat turning into a noise as his eyes fall shut and he grabs ahold of your hips. With a sharp tug he pulls your body as close as he can to his, his hands sliding up your sides. His bloodied lips against your plush ones, kissing you like a man starved, a kiss you’ve come accustomed to when he comes home from longer hunts. “Missed you” he hums in a hushed tone into the kiss for only you to hear, making your racing heart only speed up. His blood flows into your opened mouth as the kiss goes on, the metallic taste on your tongue foreign but you were far too relieved he was back in one piece to care about the blood coating your tongue.
Any pain Dean felt after the whole ordeal and from the bumpy ride back to the bunker seemed to fade from his body. He could care less about his brother's presence still in the room or the blood still dripping from his face and that covered his clothes or his split lip. It felt as if all the bruises that were forming on his body were already being kissed away as your soft lips slid against his. The taste of your mouth overcoming the taste of the blood in his, your scent calming his body, reminding him he's finally home again. Your body grounding him.
A rough deep cough stops the moment making the two of you reluctantly pull away, lips swollen and parted as you catch your breath.
“Before this gets any more R-rated maybe we should patch him up and you know clean him up” Sam suggested with a small light hearted chuckle as he walks off to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. You were grateful you remembered just yesterday that it had needed to be restocked. “Sorry Sammy” Dean calls after him, you turn your head away and follow up with a “Sorry not sorry” down the hall after him making a small smirk grow on your boyfriend's face.
Once he's out of eye sight, Dean grabs ahold of your face by lightly squeezing your cheeks and turns your head back to face him. Leaning down to begin softly kissing you again, groaning against your lips when the pain in his body begins to return.
“Who needs a first aid kit, all i need is my girl's kisses” He mumbled softly against your mouth, making you break out into a smile. A small tear slips down your cheek, your breath returning to your lungs and the chill in your spine fading as relief finally settled over your body knowing he's okay.
→ a/n: if you enjoyed please reblog or send me some dean requests id love to write more for him!
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fluff#fluff#fem!reader#x female!reader#female reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester drabble#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester headcanon#dean winchester hc#dean winchester supernatural#dean winchester x y/n#supernatural#dean x reader#dean x you#dean x y/n#dean x female!reader#dean imagine#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural dean#supernatural drabble#reader insert#jensen ackles#supernatural one shot
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Home (Tyler Owens x Reader)
You're soaked to the bone, clothes torn, bloody and clinging to your skin. Hair plastered to your face, blooding running down your face like tears. The wind still howls around you as you help people to safety, Tyler by your side. The gash on your forehead is numbed by the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You've always loved storm chasing, but this time it's different, too close to home.
That moment in the motel pool, clinging to the piping for dear life, Tyler moments from slipping through your fingers - that was the most terrifying moment of your life. Yet here you are still riding your fears.
As the streets of El Reno begin to tumble and tear apart before your eyes, you push forward, trying to save as many people as you can. With no space in the small number of bunkers, basements & shelters there are, you have no choice but to guide everyone to the movie theatre.
"Y/N!" You turn at the sound of Tyler's voice above the cacophony of chaos around you. You still lose you breath every time you look at Tyler Owens and fall in love with him like it's the first time you met all over again. "Baby Girl, we need to get inside before it's too late." His hand wraps around your forearm, pulling you closer to his side.
Tyler was the one who brought your love of storm chasing to life, made your childhood dreams a reality. Your parents thought you were crazy to go off with the self-proclaimed 'Tornado Wrangler' but upon learning the reason behind his dangerous adventures and of your utter happiness and adoration of the man, they came to terms with your decision.
With a chaste kiss to your forehead, Tyler takes your hand in his and pulls you along hurriedly toward the movie theatre. Gathering the last few families through the doors with you and taking a glance back at the fast approaching tornado, you close the door behind you. Once inside the theatre, hunkered down between rows of chairs, the adrenaline begins to fade.
With the horrendous sound of the rain, wind and destruction echoing around the large space, panic begins to set in. This building wasn't made to withstand such a destructive force of nature. Tears spring to your eyes as your fear takes over. The cut on your forehead still bleeding, throbbing above your eyebrow. "Ty?" He can barely hear you above the roar of the storm above you, chunks of ceiling ripping away into the sky. "Ty?"
"I'm here Baby Girl, I'm here." You feel him wrap his body around yours as you both lay on the ground, arms tightly wrapped around them to keep you anchored. His warmth envelopes you and the smell of him immediately calms you somewhat. "I'm here, I gotcha." Sobs wrack your body as you try to take your mind away from this godawful situation. You should be celebrating your engagement but instead you're fighting for your lives. "I gotcha, darlin'. We're gonna go home after this." He kisses your temple, his body wrapping tighter around yours as the eye of the storm grows closer. "Wherever you wanna call home, that's where we'll go. We'll st-"
What's left of the movie screen disappears as the wall is torn away from the building, debris and innocent people being ripped away with it. Your fear returns tenfold, Tyler holding on with all his strength to protect you. His life, his home. "We'll start that family we talked about, hmm?" He presses his cheek against your own. "We're gonna make it through this, darlin'. I promise."
You turn to face him, noses brushing against each other. "I promise you, baby." You waste no time in pressing your lips to his own, the taste of blood, dirt and tears on your tongue as you press yourself to him.
"I love you."
"I love you, Baby Girl." You rest your forehead against his as you both prepare for the worst. The building shudders and shakes, groaning against the worsening wind speed. With eyes closed tightly, hands wound around each others, both you and Tyler hope with all your might that you survive this. But no matter what, you were home. Tyler is your home.
#tyler owens imagines#twisters imagines#tyler owens#tyler owens x reader#tyler owen twisters#tyler owens fanfic#tyler owens twisters x reader#glen powell fanfic#glen powell imagines#tyler owens imagine#tyler owens twisters#twisters fanfic#twisters imagine
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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : I AM NOT GOING ANYWHERE : :;
╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Seong Gi-hun x F!Reader
・❥・GENRE: Smut & Fluff
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆FANDOM: Squid Game
ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Smut, 18+, piv, oral (F receiving), soft smut, very short mention of choking, Gi-hun being an absolute sweetie
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: After surviving a number of games already, you are tired and want to go home which you know you can’t, but luckily Gi-hun is there to take care of you .
YOU LET OUT A loud sigh for probably the 100th time that evening as you roll onto your other side, trying to get comfortable in your bunk bed.
“Why can’t I just fall asleep?” You murmur, slowly sitting up right while looking around the room.
Your eyes fall on Young-il, Dae-ho, Jung-bae and Jun-hee who are all soundlessly asleep. Then your eyes fall on Gi-hun who is guarding your self made bunker.
Slowly and carefully, you slip out of bed and head for Gi-hun, sitting down next to him without saying anything.
Gi-hun turns his head to look at you and he can’t help but feel bad when he sees the tiredness on your face. Why is she awake? She should be sleeping.
As if you heard Gi-hun’s thoughts, you turn to face him. “I can’t sleep.” Gi-hun gives you a slight nod before going back to staring ahead of him.
“I’m sorry that I failed to get you out of here.” His voice breaks a little and you notice it immediately. “Don’t. You did your best. If these pigs want to stay to earn their money, let them. Sooner or later they will realize how stupid it was to vote for continuing the games. Half of them won’t even make it until the end.” You scoff at the last part which makes Gi-hun look at you again.
You had met Gi-hun on the first day of being in this hell hole. He had helped you cross the finish line during Red light, Green light. And since that moment you stuck by him, forever grateful that he saved you just seconds before the timer ran out.
When he told everyone that he had played these games before, you were shocked. Why would anyone ever return to here out of free will? Gi-hun explained everything to you. About how he joined the games to pay all of his debts. He told you about the games he played and about the people he lost during them. He also told you how his childhood friend ended his life so Gi-hun could live and get the money. In the end Gi-hun had told you that he came back for a reason. He wanted to end these horrific games, even if it meant his death.
So you joined his team. Not only because you stood behind Gi-hun’s way of thinking, but also to protect him. And he did the same for you.
Gi-hun had grown quite fond of you. He had this urge to protect you and help you with everything he could. He was always worried about you during the games. Especially during Mingle. During one of the first rounds, he lost sight of you and when he heard the ringing of the gunshots from the small room he was in, he couldn’t help but look if one of the fallen bodies were yours. Luckily that was not the case.
The moment the doors opened, you sprinted towards Gi-hun. “you’re alive!” Gi-hun beamed as he pulled you into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry.” You mumbled against his chest.
“Shh don’t apologize, it’s okay. I’m just glad that you’re alive.” Gi-hun reassured you. From that moment on Gi-hun did not once let go of you during remaining time of the game.
“I promise I will get you out of here.”
You look up from your feet to see Gi-hun staring at you. You give him a weak smile before laying your head on his shoulder.
“Please don’t die Gi-hun.” You say weakly. “I’m not planning to.” Gi-hun smiles softly.
“Ahem.”
Both you and Gi-hun turn around to see Young-il standing there. “You two should head to bed. It’s my time to guard anyway.” He says while scratching the back of his neck.
Gi-hun nods and gets back on his feet. He holds out his hand for you to take it, which you do and he helps you back on your feet as well.
“Good night you two.” You hear Young-il say as you head towards your bed, still holding Gi-hun’s hand.
“Gi-hun?” you say softly. “Yes?” He questions while looking at you.
“Could you…could you sleep next to me tonight. I really don’t want to be alone.”
Gi-hun’s heart practically melts upon hearing your words so he nods his head with a kind smile on his face.
He watches how you get ‘comfortable’ in your bunkbed before he joins you. “Are you sure this is okay?” Gi-hun asks as he awkwardly tries not to touch you, afraid he might cross your boundaries.
“It’s okay.” You reassure him while looking at him. Gi-hun’s breathing hitches in his throat as he looks at you. You are so beautiful and kind. You don’t belong here.
“What are you thinking about?” You wonder. Gi-hun just blinks at you. “May I kiss you?” He suddenly asks.
You are a bit taken aback by his question but you nod nonetheless. It’s not like you haven’t thought about it yourself.
“Yes you may.” You smile as both you and Gi-Hun inches closer to each other.
Gi-hun gently places his hand on your cheek before colliding his lips with yours. It’s a passionate kiss, both wanting to feel the other as close as possible.
You immediately kiss back as your hands make their way to Gi-hun’s hair. A small moan slips past his lips as you gently tug on his locks.
He breathes your name and it sounds so beautiful coming from his lips.
“Gi-hun…” You look into his eyes and you see that they are filled with love and sadness, and maybe even anger. But still he kisses you with the upmost gentleness, afraid he might hurt you accidentally.
“I need you.” You whisper and it doesn’t take long for Gi-hun to be on top of you. He leans on his arms which are placed on either side of your face as he looks down at you.
“You are so pretty Gi-hun.” You smile while softly caressing his cheek. Gi-hun can only smile at your words until he feels your hand in his pants.
“A-are you sure?” He asks quickly. “Only if you are. I want you to be comfortable too.” You explain him while placing a kiss to his cheek.
“I’m comfortable.” Gi-hun breathes carefully. “Then i am too.” You slip your hand into Gi-hun’s boxers and carefully wrap your finger’s around his cock.
“Oh fuck…” Gi-hun moans softly while hiding his face in your neck. You begin to pump your hand up and down his cock while Gi-hun is placing wet kisses along your jawline.
“It feels so good.” He says before kissing you again. “Good.” You mumble against his lips with a smile.
You feel Gi-hun grinding against your hand as a way to tell you he needs more.
You want to pull his pants down but he stops you. “Not yet.” You watch with confusion as Gi-hun taps your hips as a way to tell you to lift them up.
The moment you do, Gi-hun slides your sweatpants down and settles between your legs. You watch how he places soft kisses along the insides of your thighs before pressing a kiss to your clit.
“May I?”
“Yes please.” You breathe. Gi-hun smiles before pulling your panties to the side. He carefully spreads your lips and dives in.
“O-oh god!” You moan, immediately putting your hand over your mouth as you feel Gi-hun’s tongue between your folds.
Gi-hun stares up at you with his big puppy eyes while licks at your clit. You try your best to stay still but when you feel two of his fingers entering your pussy, you just can’t.
“Fuck Gi-hun!” You whisper as you clamp your hand down in his hair.
“You taste so good sweetheart. I just can’t get enough of it.” Gi-hun smiles, his face covered in your juices as he keeps licking your pussy.
“Gi-hun I can’t! I’m close.” You moan while bucking your hips. “Then let go for me love.” He murmurs with a lazy grin, still focused on your pussy.
You are immediately sent over the edge as you cover Gi-hun’s face in your juices. You can feel Gi-hun licking up every drop until his face is on your eye level again.
“How did that feel love?” he asks while pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Amazing.” You breathe with a slight chuckle.
“Is it now my turn to make you feel good?” You ask in a seductive tone. Gi-hun clears his throat as he nods, suddenly feeling shy.
“Come on now, don’t be shy baby.” You place a gentle kiss on his lips as you push him off of you, telling him to lay down on his back for you.
Once Gi-hun is settled, you straddle his lap, both hissing when his cock makes contact with your pussy.
“Is this okay?” You ask Gi-hun while playing with his hair. “Y-yes.” He stammers. “Relax baby.” You chuckle as you kiss his cheek.
Gi-hun watches how you grab his cock and align it with your pussy before slowly sliding down, making both you and Gi-hun moan as he grips the sheets in his fists.
“You feel amazing sweetheart.” Gi-hun whimpers, placing both of his hands on your hips, slowly guiding you up and down his cock.
“I can say the same about you.” You moan while steadying yourself with placing one hand on his chest.
Gi-hun watches how you bounce on his cock, trying his best not to make too much noise, but boy is it hard.
Every time you bounce on his cock he wants to scream out, letting everyone know how good you make him feel, but he knows he can’t, so he bites his lip instead.
“You’re so good to me Gi-hun.” You moan while leaning forward so you can kiss his neck.
“Oh baby…” He groans while digging his fingers into your sides. “Stay like this okay.” He whispers in you ear before starting to thrust up into you.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you bite down onto Gi-hun’s shoulder to keep you from making any noise.
“Oh fuck you feel so good baby. So tight and warm, i can stay like this forever.” Gi-hun moans as his thrusts get harder and deeper.
“Gi-hun…” You whimper. “What is it love?” He asks immediately. “Kiss me.” You demand with a slight moan.
“Yes ma’am.” Gi-hun smiles before pulling you into a kiss. You both moan against each other’s mouth while you meet Gi-hun’s thrusts with your own.
“I’m close sweetheart.” Gi-hun breathes while looking at you. “M-me too.” You say while unconsciously wrapping your hand around his throat.
Gi-hun’s eyes widen at the feeling and he can’t help but go even harder now.
“Gi-hun i’m s-so close!” You whisper in his ear while tightening your hold on his throat.
“Come for me baby.” Gi-hun groans. “Be a good girl.” At hearing those words slip from Gi-hun’s lips, you can’t hold it in anymore.
Gi-hun is quick to cover your mouth with his hand as you come onto his cock, soaking it with your juices.
“Fuck that’s it.” Moans Gi-hun before spilling inside of you. You let out a soft whimper as you feel him fill you up with his cum.
“Gi-hun….” you sigh as you collapse on top of him. Suddenly you become aware of your hand being wrapped around his throat so you immediately let go.
“Oh my god i am so sorry.” You quickly apologize, but Gi-hun is quick to shut you up with a kiss.
“Don’t. I liked it.” He smiles. “Really?” You ask surprised. Gi-hun immediately nods. “You should definitely do it more often.”
You and Gi-hun stare at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter.
“Shh!” You laugh as you cover Gi-hun’s mouth with your hand while he does the same with you.
It’s suddenly very quiet as both you and Gi-hun calm down from your highs.
“Thank you.” You suddenly say. “For what?” Gi-hun asks as he pulls you into his chest.
“For being there for me.”
Gi-hun can’t help but smile as he gently ruffles your hair. He places a soft kiss on the top of your head before closing his eyes.
“You don’t have to thank me sweetheart. Now get some sleep, you deserve it.”
“Will you stay here with me?” You ask as you look up at him. Gi-hun smiles, his eyes still closed.
“Of course love, i am not going anywhere.”
I really hope everyone liked how it turned out! It was so much fun to write for Gi-hun. He is quite literally underated in his own show😭
If any of you have any requests about Gi-hun or In-ho, feel free to drop them in my inbox!
#squid game x reader#seong gi hun x reader#gi hun x reader#seong gi hun#lee jung jae#squid game fanfic
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WELCOME TO THE BUNKER
dean winchester x angel!reader
1.5k | angst, enemies to lovers, szn nine
summary: waking up inside of the winchester’s bunker, you quickly start to realize that only one of the brother’s want you around their home.
WHEN ANGEL FALLS IN LOVE
“damn, she sleeps like a log.”
your mind was starting to wake up, the faint sounds of a gruff voice piercing through your veil of sleep. your eyes peeled open like worn out book pages, taking their time as you brought your hand up to shield your retina’s from the blinding lights.
how long you’d been asleep was a mystery to you. your body felt well rested, but it also felt like your bones had been dormant for years. the plush material beneath your body felt like a cloud, having you realize that the winchester’s had probably laid you to rest in a bed of sorts.
“dean!” you heard another voice exclaim softly in shock, a thud being heard from an unknown source. “she fell from heaven for christ’s sake, i’d also be asleep for a week.”
a week? was that how long you’d been asleep for? yeah, you fell from the sky at an inhuman speed, but you didn’t expect to be out for seven days.
when your eyes finally decided to peel open, a cream and industrial space was there to greet you. the winchester’s bunker is where you expected to be, but you didn’t plan on it being this nice. from this room alone, it seemed massive, and you were starting to already get overwhelmed.
it didn’t help that two large bodies loomed over you. as the clutches of sleep let go of your weak body, it didn’t allow you to realize that it was sam and dean who were hovering over you. so in a fit of fear, you leapt up in bed, shocking the brother’s to jump backwards as you scooted towards the headboard.
your eyes were widened in fear; even as your brain registered that it was sam and dean in the room with you. wether it be the aftershocks of the fall or adjusting to being awake after seven days you didn’t know, but your body couldn’t help but cower back as sam reached out towards you.
“hey, it’s okay.” sam spoke softly, coming to stand by the bedside while kneeling to be close to your frame. “we aren’t going to hurt you.”
the wide eyed fearful stare you gave sam softened as his reassurance sunk in your bones. all you could do was nod, looking from sam to his brother who didn’t share as soft as a reaction as sam did. “where am i?”your voice was soft, yet the gruffness of dean’s impending response hardened any of your feathery words that remained.
“our bunker,” his arms were crossed across his chest as he stood at the foot of your bed, looking down at you from his nose as he silently judged your presence. “in kansas. not a lot of supernatural creatures know about it, so don’t go flapping your gums and telling everyone.”
“dean!” it was like sam was conditioned to say his brothers name like that; shocked and full of distaste for how his brother was acting. “the poor girl just fell from the freakin sky, she’s probably confused. why would that be something she’d plan on doing?”
sam’s reprimanding had you shrinking back into the bed, making you realize how unwanted you were here. it wasn’t that sam didn’t want you around, it was just dean clearly didn’t want you there. if sam had to scold him so much, his animosity towards you was probably very high.
wringing your fingers together, you looked down at your bandaged hands as you attempted to pick at the skin around your fingers. “i don’t have to stay if that’s what you want, dean.” you mumbled, looking up at him as he stared you down. “i can go like cas, figure out how to live in this world alone.”
sam’s hand grasping yours had your head turning sideways, neck stiff as you tried to look him in the eyes. “no, you are welcomed here.” his words were steady, assured, like what he was saying was a fact. “we want to help you, that’s what cas wanted. so stay in bed for a little while, and when you’re ready, i’ll show you your room.”
you couldn’t help but feel a sense of something wondrous flow through your body. you weren’t too keen on emotions yet, but castiel had explained to you what some of them were and what they meant; and you were pretty sure you were feeling a sense of gratitude towards sam winchester.
he didn’t stay for much longer, briefly mentioning how he was going to find a room close to him or dean’s for you to stay in before he departed. with a blanket of silence falling over the room, you could finally take a moment to really sink into your mind and understand your emotions.
this was a new experience, and honestly, you were rightfully nervous. it was going to be hard, adjusting to having no grace and no angelic powers. you couldn’t fly, and you couldn’t heel people. you also felt a strange rumbling sensation in your stomach, and you were faintly sure that meant you were hungry.
everything was so new, and you realized that you had to figure out how you were as a person. all you’ve ever known is being an angel, how to be apart of a team and how to serve heaven. but now, you were your own person, and you could figure out whatever you wanted to be or who you were.
the world was still new to you, and you didn’t understand most of the things sam or dean talked about, but you were willing to try. you’ve been alive for millennia, yet you never truly lived.
falling was truly a blessing in disguise; because now, you could really enjoy life, and understand what it’s like to be alive.
“sam is the nice one y’know.” dean’s voice coming from the rooms entry had you jumping, eyes widening as you whipped your head to where he stood. his arms were crossed as usual, and his eyes held their usual steely gaze. he didn’t look happy, yet you weren’t surprised, for a sour expression was all he seemed to dawn around you.
visibly gulping as he descended towards you, your voice scratched against your throat as you attempted to talk to him. “i mean no harm dean, i swear.” the words came out in a croak as you attempted to plead your case, yet all dean could conjure up in response was an eye roll.
“i’m not stupid feathers,” the name didn’t come out tender, not like how cas would call you sweet pea. it came out demeaning, like he believed you to value yourself as some higher being who felt above him and his brother. “i know how you angels work, and i won’t allow you to come in here and judge me and sammy. if you thought i’d let you get away with being a bitch, then you are very wrong.”
his words made your lips quiver, eyes widening even more at his crude words. his entire life was centred around people leaving him, showing they never really cared. it wasn’t shocking that he didn’t trust you, that he would build such high walls around his emotions, that you wouldn’t even be able to get a peak inside. yet his words still left a stinging sensation on your gut, leaving a sour feeling in your chest.
“why are you so mean?” the words came out like a childish plea, a solemn whisper that had you reprimanding yourself at how dean made you feel like you were nothing. you were an angel for heaven’s sake. truly, you were above him. but you never thought like that, never believed that different species were placed in a tier.
castiel could be right sometimes. you were too sweet, a true angel. rightfully deserved of the description that people gave your kind. you believed that everyone should be treated equally. and like cas, you were too kind for your own good. so with dean standing above your rested frame, eyes cold as they stared at you, you attempted your last breath at making him see your true intentions. “you don’t even know me. i’m not like the other angels, i promise.”
all dean did was laugh, a bitter sound that scratched at your ears. “your promises mean shit to me, sweetheart. come and talk to me when you and your kind do something other than ruin me and my brothers lives.”
with that he stalked towards the door, not even letting you get a word in before he pipped in one last comment from the door. “try and stay far away from me, feathers. because if you try and piss me off, i’ll show you how mean i can really be.”
“is that a threat?” you wearily replied, trying to show some confidence as you weren’t up to be mistreated. you might be a kind person, but that doesn’t mean you were going to let people walk over you.
“no,” dean replied coolly, hand on the door frame as he was one step from being out of your sight. “that’s a promise.”
when you were finally alone, it suddenly set in that cracking dean winchester was a lost cause. he was cruel. a mean man that didn’t care about anything but what catered to him. sam was an honest and nice man, and if you would have to learn how to live by tip toeing around dean with his younger brother, then so be it.
TAGS: @floralscented @deansbeer @titsout4jackles @ostaramoon @haunteres @fallbhind @rubyvhs @foolinthera1n @taurus0queenie33 @vaiieydoii @jasvtsc @bitchykittenconnoisseur @galacticalllcafffeine @pascal-rascal424 @annoyingstrawberryballoon @fayeisuppose @angel-inspiredblog @geisterfvhrer @bluemerakis @si1ver06 @drqstqr @wh0s-ra3 @supernatural-bangtanboys @whump-loverz @mostlymarvelgirl @d3anwinchesterswife @youdontknowe @oceanolokys
*sorry chat, i kinda made dean a raging bitch. but i swear!!! he will change!! we all know our man and his trust issues!!!
#supernatural#dean winchester#sam winchester#imagine#supernatural x reader#dean winchester imagine#ultravi0lence14#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester series#when angel falls in love#dean winchester x angel!reader
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Phobia
idea : your phobia relates to your boyfriend's gifted godly abilities.
word count : 0.8k
type : headcanons
pairing/s involved : Jason Grace / Percy Jackson / Leo Valdez / Frank Zhang / Nico Di Angelo x Reader
warning/s : phobia speaks for itself. personally, it's thalassophobia for me. 😓
here is my masterlist!
Jason Grace | Acrophobia (Fear of Heights)
Due to having the same fear as his sister, Jason is completely aware of the dos and dont's when you're an acrophobic.
If you two are forced in situations where you need to be in high places, he always attempts to distract you with anything he can think of.
He prefers embarrassing stories over jokes. His delivery is too deadass and his 'i'm-trying-hard-here-it's-not-funny' look makes you laugh before the punchline.
Knowing that it can be associated with the fear of falling, Jason will reassure you every time that he's going to catch you.
If you did fall, during some battle for example, he will asks you to close your eyes and hold you tighter before slowly bringing you down.
He really lives up to that Superman nickname so much, the others started calling you Lois Lane.
Percy Jackson | Thalassophobia (Fear of Deep Bodies of Water)
Percy would be bummed out. Being the son of Poseidon, he loves to be in the water.
Everything about him— from his favorite hobbies to his happiest of memories, revolves around it and he wants to share that with you.
He plans on taking you on trips underwater; introduce you to the majestic marine creatures nobody else has seen before, unravel mysteries the sea has to offer, and form a big bubble where you can do whatever you want without being interrupted (ehem👀).
But how can he make all of it possible when your fear is literally all of those?
Percy would want to help you get over it. He wouldn't force you but he will at least try convince you.
If you refuse, he will respect that.
But if you accept his help, he'll try to take it one step at a time. Probably by starting to show you how the sea, no matter terrifying it is, is also beautiful place.
Leo Valdez | Pyrophobia (Fear of Fire)
Initially, Leo will laugh. I mean, who wouldn't?
You're a pyrophobic yet you're dating someone who is actually made out of fire?
After he notices that you're not joking, he will begin to be terrified for you. Expect that Leo will be extra careful when you are with him, especially when he is working on something.
His contraptions deemed too dangerous like explosives, will be kept somewhere far away.
As much as he thinks your presence will make Bunker 9 a lovelier workspace, he will understand if you don't want to go there. The essense of it is from the god of fire himself— I mean you need a blast of fire to enter.
He also will refrain himself from using his fire abilities in a fight, making do with his inventions instead.
While pyrophobia doesn't have specific causes, it may be possible that you had some traumatic experience relating to fire. Leo doesn't want to hurt you or make you feel worse.
Frank Zhang | Zoophobia (Fear of Animals)
Frank is confused. He doesn't know that the fear of animals is a thing and would wonder why you agreed on dating him in the first place.
He will ask you tons of questions; what caused your phobia? Are you afraid of all animals, a few, or just one? What can I do? After your conversation, he's going to search more information.
If you're afraid of one animal only, Frank will forget it ever existed. He will never talk of that animal again even when you're not around.
The others will joke about it. Example, if you're scared of snakes—
"What is a snake, Frank?"
"What's that, Leo? I have no idea, so let's never speak of it again."
In the case that you're afraid of all animals (this is a rare condition), he will not use his abilities and will train harder in combat.
When he really doesn't have a choice but to shapeshift in a fight, you two will separate with your friends' assurance that they got your back.
Frank is a nice guy but if someone made an offensive comment about your phobia or hardcore pranks involving that animal? Expect the wrath and rage of Mars.
Nico Di Angelo | Phasmophobia (Fear of Ghosts)
I'm sorry but Nico will slightly judge you. Really, a ghost? What are you, five?
Like Frank, he will ask you what caused your phobia.
He will feel terrible and comfort you if you have the same experience as Reina and Jason, who's loved ones turned into a mania. If it's because of horror movies, he will awkwardly pet your head.
You may think the subject is dropped but Nico will make sure that no ghost will ever come near you.
Having the infamous title 'Ghost King', he will not hesitate to torment and threaten the spirits who try to approach, scare, or talk to you.
He will take you on dates to McDonalds but he will not bring you to any 'ghost business'.
If you want to get rid of your phobia, Nico will summon ghosts who can entertain you; like singers, dancers, those that can do tricks, and stand up comedians.
He will also show you how easily he can bend any ghost to his will, proving to you that there's nothing to be afraid of.
#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#heroes of olympus#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson headcanons#heroes of olympus headcanons#pjo x reader#hoo x reader#hoo imagine#pjo imagine#jason grace#jason grace x reader#leo valdez#leo valdez x reader#frank zhang#frank zhang x reader#nico di angelo#nico di angelo x reader#riordanverse
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can i come over?
when schlatt moves to texas an unexpected storm leaves him with no where to go, will you offer up a room to your friend?
streamer reader x streamer schlatt
you had lived in texas since you attended college at texas a and m
orginally you went to ithica college, but you transfered during your sophmore year
you now had your own apartment as you were out of college
you knew a couple of other content creators who lived in the area, but not many
your closest friend, ted nivison, lived in los angeles, but you went to visit him every now and again
your phone rang, "gangnum style" blasting in your ears and groaned, you reached for your phone, only to be met with a picture of you and theodore from college freshman year
"i need your help guppie." teds face filled the screen and his dopey smile made you laugh
"you woke me up mr grouper." your nicknames came from the first time you got high together and decided to watch bubble guppies
"wakey wakey! does this fit look ok?" he set the camera down and walked away from the camera, he did a little spin before grabbing his phone again
"yes you look very fashionable theo. can i go back to sleep now?" ne nodded but very quickly realized he had something else to tell you
"wait really quick, remember schlatt? you met him during the lunch club era" you scanned your sleepy memory trying to remember this guy you probably met once.
"um, tall right? good looking?" ted nodded and laughed, sitting down at his desk
"glad to hear thats what you remember. anyways, im pretty sure hes moving out to Austin in the coming months, so you guys should talk cause he only knows a handfull of people out there." ted said
"cool. can i please sleep now." your tired brain did not care for this random man barely remember.
"yes, reach out to him ok?" he smiled at the camera
"yes theodore kennedy nivison junior. love you. byeeeee" and with that you ended the call.
you didnt really think about teds call all that much, untill around 3 months later you recieved a text from an unknown number
even though schlatt then tried ghosting you, ted finally convinced him to man up and keep talking to one of the few people living where he was soon moving
over the span of a month you two had been constantly talking, to the point where you were starting to consider him as one of your closest friends
you would facetime atleast once a day, text everyday, and you even streamed twice together on your account
you were getting very excited to have a new friend so close by
then came the storm.
you lived alone with your dog, and you knew your house would not be ready for this shit.
you stalked up on food, blankets, flashlights
basically anything you could get your hands on
and you bunkered down at your house with your dog, getting ready to thug the next few days out
you were scrolling on your phone, on the first night of the storm, power already out, house fucking freezing, and you see schlatt had posted on his snap story
you open it to find a video of him yelling outside of a completely dark marriot
screaming about how thats where he is supposed to be staying
and you were getting very worried, like your new friend who youve never met in person, might deadass freeze to death.
so you did what any caring soul like yourself would do
you swipe up on his story with your address and a follow up message saying "pull up to mi casa papi 🍆 "
and hope he would hurry so you could go to bed
around twenty minutes later you layed cuddled with your dog bundled in over ten blankets
when felt your house fucking shake with how hard schlatt was banging on your door
you walked downstairs, and opened the door, to a giant, shivering, and covered in snow schlatt, who you immediatly wrapped in a hug and dragged upstairs
"c'mon lets get you nice and warm." you brought him to your room where you turned your bed into a nice warm spot for him "i have some clothes for you, they were my brothers so they should fit" you smiled up at him
he hadnt said much yet and you could see the stress seeping through his face, he dropped his stuff and kinda just hugged you.
"you ok?" you laugh as he pulls away from the hug. he smiles sadly before sitting down on your bed
"ive been better ill be honest" he laughed quietly.
"some first day here huh?" you pat him on the back, trying to comfort him.
"you could say that. holy shit i thought that was a stuffed animal" he says looking at your dog
"go change dumbass, bathrooms on the right" you watch as schlatt takes the clothes and walks to your bathroom, you think you even hearhim flick on the light switch.
"do you want a flashlight?" you yell out to him, to which you get a small "please" back in return, you laugh and leave a flashlight infront of the door
you get comfy in the small sofa in your room, as schlatt was not going to fit on it, and your other bedroom was turned into your office. but you didnt mind him taking the bed
he came out of the bathroom minutes later and quietly shut the door behind him when he turned around he was looking at you kinda funny
you began to ask what was wrong before he cut you off "absolutely not, im not kicking you off your bed, get up" he towered over you on the sofa
"schlatt shut the fuck up, your not fitting on this thing, i barely do."
"you have a king size bed, were sharing, me you and that oddly stuffed animal looking dog c'mon get a move on" he got into the bed and waited for you and your dof to follow him
you laughed and made your way over, your dog following closely behind. you flop down onto the bed and look at the man laying next to you
"crazy this is the first time we're meeting" he says getting comfy
you lay another blanket on the both of you as your dog jumps up on the bed and lays between the two of you "im glad ted introduced us" you take a moment to inspect him
you two had called on discord many times and FaceTimed, but nothing lived up to the real thing.
"im really happy he introduced us too."
guys i kinda hate how this turned out
sorry 😣 😥 😦 😧 😨 😪 😢 😞 😰 😿 🫤 ❤️🩹 ☹️ 😐
#jschlatt#schlatt#jschlatt x reader#ted nivison#schlatt x reader#jschlatt x you#twitch streamer#schlatt x content creator#schlatt imagine#schlatty#jschlatt fanfic#jschaltt#jschatt#tednividon#chuckle sandwich#youtube#content creator#streamer#streamer reader x content creator schlatt#schlattslonghairytoes
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✨Taking her in - Pt. 1✨
Summary: After Dean Winchester saves your life, he brings you into the safety of the bunker. As you grow older and stronger, Dean refuses to let you join the hunts, his overprotective behavior intensifying. But beneath his fierce protectiveness lies something darker—conflicted feelings he can’t face. As your 18th birthday approaches, Dean struggles to keep control, torn between his duty to protect you and emotions he’s buried for too long.
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: 18+ only! HUGE Age Gap, Immoral, Underage Reader, Language
Word Count: 4536
A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨
Living with the Winchesters had been a strange yet oddly comforting experience. A few years ago, you were just a scared kid, barely surviving on your own after your mom passed away. The world was a cruel place, and you had learned that the hard way. But that night—when those men had cornered you, when you thought it was all over—Dean appeared out of nowhere like a guardian angel, though with a lot more anger and fire in his eyes.
You still remembered the way he looked after it was all over, standing over the bodies of those men, his breath heavy, his knuckles bruised. Dean Winchester was no stranger to killing, but that night had been different. These weren’t monsters. They were people. And yet, he had done what he had to do, without hesitation, to save you.
When he brought you to the bunker, you were too shocked to argue much. The bunker was unlike any place you’d ever known—safe, hidden from the world, and full of secrets you could never have imagined. Dean had said it was just until you got back on your feet, just until he was sure you were okay. But somehow, days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and now, years had passed.
You never talked about that night, not in detail. Sam had tried a couple of times, but you always shut him down. Dean never brought it up either. Maybe it was because you all knew there was nothing left to say. Or maybe it was because none of you wanted to face what it meant—that Dean had killed for you, that he had saved you in a way you couldn’t quite repay.
But despite the horrors you had faced before meeting the Winchesters, the bunker had become a home. It wasn’t like the life you had before, where survival meant scrapping by on whatever you could find, sleeping with one eye open. Here, you had a family. Dean and Sam—despite all their mess and chaos—had become the brothers you never had. They taught you everything you needed to know to protect yourself from the supernatural, but more than that, they showed you what it meant to have someone’s back, to care about someone even when the world was falling apart.
Now, your 18th birthday was coming up, and you couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions. Part of you felt like you should leave, like you should go out and start your own life. But another part of you—the part that had grown accustomed to the safety of the bunker, the warmth of the Winchesters—didn’t want to let go.
Even after all this time, the question still lingered in the back of your mind: why had Dean been so insistent on bringing you back to the bunker that night? It wasn’t like him to make such impulsive decisions, especially when it came to something as personal as taking in a stranger. Dean was a protector, sure, but he didn’t make a habit of dragging people into his life, especially not into the heart of the Winchesters’ world.
But with you, something had been different. Something had driven him to take that extra step, to bring you home, and even now, none of you could quite figure out why.
Dean had always been guarded, keeping his thoughts and emotions close to his chest. But from the moment he had found you, something had shifted in him. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there. The way he watched over you, more protective than usual, always making sure you were okay, even when you didn’t want to admit that you needed it. Sam noticed it too, the way Dean would check in on you late at night when he thought no one was watching, or how he would get that distant look in his eyes whenever the topic of your past came up.
It wasn’t that he pitied you—Dean Winchester wasn’t the type to pity anyone. It was something else, something deeper. And yet, no matter how many times you tried to puzzle it out, you never came any closer to understanding what had driven him to act that night.
Dean never took you with them on a hunt, no matter how much you argued or tried to convince him that you were ready. It was frustrating, especially after all the training they’d put you through, drilling you on everything from how to banish a ghost to the proper way to handle a silver blade. The supernatural world had terrified you at first—so much so that, in the beginning, you’d freaked out so badly that Sam and Dean had to tie you down until you could calm yourself. But you’d learned, adapted, and eventually, you stopped being scared. At least, you stopped showing it.
Still, no matter how much you insisted that you were ready, Dean refused to let you join them on hunts. He was firm about it, more so than usual, and it always left you feeling like you were still that scared kid they’d found all those years ago.
Today, the frustration had reached a boiling point. You’d spent the day in the bunker, alone, while they were out doing what they did best. By the time you heard the familiar rumble of the Impala pulling into the garage, you were practically seething.
As soon as the garage door creaked open, you saw them—Dean, covered in blood, and Sam, looking equally worn out but less battered. You stood in the doorway, arms crossed, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice but failing miserably as you grumbled, “How was it?”.
Dean didn’t even look at you as he brushed past, his expression dark, a sure sign that things hadn’t gone smoothly. His usual easygoing demeanor was replaced by something sharper, more on edge, and that only made your frustration spike.
“Still a bit fucked up since I had to stay behind. Again”, you added, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
Dean froze in his tracks, his back stiffening. He slowly turned to face you, and for a moment, you saw something flash in his eyes—something between anger and fear, though you couldn’t quite pin it down. His voice was low, almost a growl, when he finally spoke. “You think I want you out there? You think I’m keeping you here just for fun?”.
Sam, sensing the tension, glanced between the two of you, clearly torn between stepping in and giving you space to work it out. But he stayed silent, letting Dean handle it.
Your irritation flared. “I’ve been here for years, Dean. I know what’s out there, and I’m not some helpless kid anymore. I can handle myself”.
Dean’s jaw clenched, and he took a step closer, his voice dropping even lower. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m not keeping you here because I don’t think you can handle yourself. I’m keeping you here because I don’t want you out there, getting hurt, or worse”.
You didn’t back down, meeting his glare head-on. “That’s not your decision to make, Dean. I’ve been through enough. I deserve to be out there, helping, not sitting around like some… liability”.
Dean’s face twisted into something almost pained, and for a second, you thought he might actually tell you what was really going on, why he was so adamant about keeping you out of the field. But then, just as quickly, the mask was back, and he shook his head, frustration radiating off him.
“Enough, Y/N”, he snapped, turning away from you again, as if the conversation was over. But you weren’t ready to let it drop.
“Yes, Dean, it’s enough!”, you shot back, stepping into his path. “You keep treating me like a kid, but I’m not. Why can’t you see that?”.
Dean’s eyes blazed as he glared at you, his face a mixture of anger something deeper, more desperate. His voice came out like a whip, sharp and cutting. “Go to your fucking room, Y/N!”.
For a moment, you were too stunned to respond. Dean had been angry before, sure, but this? This was different. The raw intensity in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, but instead of backing down, you found yourself standing your ground, defiance burning in your chest.
You raised your brows, trying to decide if you wanted to laugh at the absurdity of him ordering you around like a child, or scream at him for treating you like one. The corner of your mouth twitched upward despite the tension, and you could see the effect it had on him immediately. If Dean was pissed before, now he looked like he was barely holding himself together as he saw the hint of a smirk on your face. It was as if your defiance was the last thing holding him together, but also the thing threatening to tear him apart. His fists clenched at his sides, the knuckles still raw from whatever fight he and Sam had just returned from, and for a moment, you thought he might actually lose it.
But instead of yelling again, instead of pushing further, he just closed his eyes for a brief second, taking a deep breath as if trying to regain control. When he opened them again, his expression had shifted—still intense, but with an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite place. Pain? Fear? It was hard to tell.
The air in the room seemed to crackle with tension as Dean’s voice, low and dangerously calm, filled the space. “I fucking swear, Y/N, if you won’t go to your fucking room now, I’m gonna lose my shit”. The words were delivered with such a raw, barely contained fury that it made your breath hitch in your throat. You’d never seen him like this before, not even during the worst of hunts or the most heated arguments. Even Sam, who had seen Dean at his worst, looked shocked—his eyes widening in surprise and concern as he watched his brother teeter on the edge.
For a moment, you stood frozen, unsure of how to respond. Part of you wanted to push back, to keep fighting, but the other part—the part that had spent the last few years learning to read Dean, understanding the depths of his pain and the limits of his patience—knew that this wasn’t the time. The way his chest heaved, the tightness in his jaw, the wild look in his eyes… He was hanging by a thread, and if you pushed him any further, you weren’t sure what would happen.
Your smirk faded as the seriousness of the situation sank in. You weren’t just in the middle of an argument anymore; you were standing at the edge of something far more dangerous. The fight left your body all at once, replaced by a heavy, sinking feeling in your gut.
“Okay”, you said, the defiance in your voice replaced with something calmer, more measured. You held your hands up in a gesture of surrender, trying to show him that you understood, that you were backing down. “I’ll go”.
Dean didn’t say anything, just watched you with those burning eyes, his fists still clenched so tight you could see the muscles straining in his forearms. He looked like as if the smallest thing might set him off.
You walked away without another word, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly down the hallway as you left Dean and Sam alone in the heavy silence of the bunker. The tension you left behind was palpable, thick enough that it seemed to hang in the air, making it difficult to breathe.
Sam watched you go, his brow furrowed with concern, before turning his attention back to Dean. His brother was still standing in the same spot, fists clenched at his sides, his entire body taut as if he was ready to snap at any moment. Sam knew Dean well enough to recognize when he was dangerously close to the edge, and right now, he was teetering on it.
“Dean”, Sam started cautiously, his voice low and calm, trying to diffuse the tension. “You need to take a breath, man. You’re too worked up”.
Dean didn’t respond immediately. His eyes were still locked on the spot where you had just stood, his mind clearly racing with thoughts he couldn’t quite articulate. It wasn’t until Sam took a step closer, placing a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder, that Dean seemed to snap out of whatever dark place his mind had gone.
“Dean, talk to me”, Sam urged, his voice soft but insistent. “What’s really going on?”.
Dean’s eyes finally met Sam’s, and for a moment, it looked like he might shut down entirely. But then, as if the weight of everything he was holding inside became too much to bear, his shoulders slumped, and he let out a long, shaky breath.
“I’m losing it, Sam”, Dean admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, raw and stripped of all its usual bravado. “I’m losing it with her”.
Sam tightened his grip on Dean’s shoulder, his concern deepening. “What do you mean?".
Dean shook his head, his gaze dropping to the floor. “She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand how dangerous this life is. I can’t… I can’t let her go out there, Sam. Not her”.
Sam sighed, understanding more clearly now what was eating away at his brother. “Dean, I get it. You’re scared. But Y/N’s not a kid anymore. She’s strong, and she’s been through a lot. You can’t keep her locked up here forever”.
But that was exactly the point, and it gnawed at Dean in a way he couldn’t fully comprehend—or maybe just didn’t want to. He didn’t want to accept the fact that you weren’t a kid anymore, that you were growing up right in front of him. Every day that brought you closer to your 18th birthday was like a ticking clock in the back of his mind, counting down to a moment he wasn’t ready to face.
No one knew how Dean really felt about you. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he understood it himself. From the moment he had saved you years ago, something had shifted inside him. He could still remember the look in your eyes that night, the way your fear had melted into a kind of cautious trust as you looked up at him, and how, in that instant, his heart had clenched in a way it hadn’t in years.
He’d buried those feelings deep, refusing to acknowledge them, convincing himself it was nothing more than a protective instinct. You were just a kid, after all, someone who needed looking after, someone who had no one else in the world. And Dean was good at protecting people—that was what he did, what he had always done. But as the years passed, that simple instinct grew into something more complicated, something that twisted inside him, especially as you grew older.
Dean knew he was teetering on the edge of something he couldn’t afford to explore. You were still so young, and he had no business feeling anything for you beyond what a protector should feel. But now, with your 18th birthday looming, the reality was hitting him harder than he ever anticipated. Soon, you’d be legally grown up, able to make your own choices, live your own life. And the thought of losing you to that, of not being able to keep you safe the way he had for the past years, was driving him crazy.
Sam’s words echoed in his mind—You can’t keep her locked up here forever. He knew Sam was right, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept. Deep down, he was terrified. Not just of the dangers you’d face out there, but of what it would mean if he had to face the truth of his own feelings. Feelings that he had buried so deep that even he couldn’t fully acknowledge them, but that were starting to claw their way to the surface.
“Dean”, Sam’s voice broke through his thoughts, grounding him. “You have to let her grow up. She’s strong enough to handle this, and you know it. What are you so afraid of?”.
Dean swallowed hard, his throat tight. He could feel the storm of emotions churning inside him, but he couldn’t let them out. Not to Sam, not to anyone. He forced himself to meet Sam’s gaze, trying to keep his voice steady, but there was an edge of desperation he couldn’t quite hide.
“I just… I can’t let anything happen to her, Sam”.
“I get that, Dean. But she’s got a right to make her own choices. You can’t keep treating her like she’s still that scared kid you found years ago”.
Dean didn’t want to think about it any longer. The more he let his mind wander down that dangerous path, the more tangled and twisted his thoughts became, until it felt like he was drowning in them. The knot in his chest tightened, and the walls of the bunker suddenly felt too close, too confining.
“I’m gonna take a shower”, he muttered, the words coming out gruff and clipped, as if speaking them was a chore. Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and headed for the bathroom, his footsteps heavy and deliberate as if each step required more effort than it should.
Sam watched him go, concern etched into every line of his face. He wanted to follow, to press Dean further, but he knew his brother well enough to recognize when he needed space. This was something Dean had to work through on his own, at least for now.
Dean’s mind was still racing as he reached the bathroom. He closed the door behind him with a little more force than necessary, the sound echoing in the small space. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at his reflection in the mirror. The man looking back at him was a mess—bloodstains on his shirt, smudges of dirt and grime on his face, and eyes that looked far more exhausted than they should.
He tore his gaze away from the mirror, not wanting to face the reality of what he saw there. Instead, he focused on the mundane task of stripping off his clothes, each movement deliberate and methodical, trying to find some semblance of control in the routine.
The hot water hit his skin like a scalding wave, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he welcomed the burning sensation, hoping it might somehow wash away the thoughts that were eating him alive. But no matter how hard he tried to focus on the physical sensation of the water, his mind kept drifting back to you—how you had looked at him with defiance and hurt in your eyes, how you had walked away without another word.
Dean leaned his head against the cool tiles of the shower, letting the water cascade over him, trying to drown out the thoughts that wouldn’t leave him alone.
He rubbed his face hard. The tension in his body only seemed to tighten with every second. Frustration bubbled up inside him as he blindly reached for the nearest bottle of shower gel, squeezing a generous amount into his hand. But the moment the sweet scent of vanilla hit his nose, his body reacted instantly, and not in the way he intended.
His breath hitched, and he cursed under his breath as blood rushed down to his crotch, his body betraying him in a way that made his skin crawl with shame. It was your scent—soft, warm, and undeniably you. The same scent that clung to the spaces you frequented in the bunker, that lingered faintly in the air whenever you passed by. He’d never let himself acknowledge how much that scent affected him before, how it seemed to wrap around his senses and pull him into thoughts he had no business having.
Dean’s hand tightened around the bottle, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to control the unwanted arousal that surged through him. He didn’t want this—didn’t want to feel this way, didn’t want to be the kind of man who thought about someone he was supposed to protect like this. But the scent was inescapable now, filling his lungs, invading his mind, and dragging him down a path he had tried so hard to avoid.
“Damn it!", he muttered, slamming the bottle back down on the ledge with more force than necessary, the sound echoing in the steamy space. His free hand pressed against the tile wall. He closed his eyes, trying to force himself to think of anything else—anything but the way your scent clung to him now, making him think of how close you were, just a few rooms away.
But his mind wasn’t cooperating. Images of you kept flashing in his mind—your smile, the way your eyes lit up when you were teasing him or Sam, the way your body moved with a confidence that had grown over the past years. He could see the way you looked at him, the mix of frustration and something else in your eyes, something that made his heart stutter in his chest. And no matter how much he tried to push it away, those thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone.
Dean squeezed his eyes shut tighter, the guilt and shame mixing with the undeniable need that was pulsing through him. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were someone he cared about, someone he was supposed to look after, not someone he was supposed to feel like this about. But the more he tried to deny it, the stronger the pull became, the harder it was to ignore the way his body responded to you.
“Get it together”, he growled to himself, trying to will his body to calm down, to stop reacting to something that should have never been an issue in the first place. But it was no use. The scent of vanilla was too strong, too intertwined with the image of you, and the more he tried to fight it, the more he felt like he was losing control.
Desperation clawed at him as he turned the shower knob, the water suddenly turning ice-cold. The shock of it hit him like a punch to the gut, but he welcomed it, hoping the frigid temperature would snap him out of whatever trance he had fallen into. The cold water rushed over his skin, causing goosebumps to rise and his muscles to tense.
His hand still pressed against the wall, Dean leaned his forehead against the cold tiles, letting the water beat down on him as he tried to focus on anything but the ache that was building in his body. He needed to get control, needed to shove these feelings back into the box he had locked them. But it was harder than he had expected—so much harder than it should have been.
Minutes passed, the cold water numbing his skin. Eventually, his breathing slowed, and the intensity of the arousal began to fade, leaving behind a cold, hollow feeling that settled in his chest. He felt like he’d crossed a line, even if only in his mind, and the shame of it was almost unbearable.
Finally, when Dean couldn’t stand the cold water anymore, he shut it off and leaned back against the shower wall, his breath coming in slow, steadying gasps. The biting chill had done its job, numbing his skin and, to some extent, dulling the raw edge of his thoughts, though the shame lingered like a bad taste in his mouth.
For a moment, he just stood there, eyes closed, trying to push everything out of his mind. He knew he needed to get a grip on himself, to regain some semblance of control before he faced you or Sam again. The last thing he wanted was to let them see just how close to the edge he was, how badly he was fighting to keep everything in check.
With a deep breath, Dean grabbed his own bottle of shower gel and squeezed a small amount into his hand, the familiar scent of cedar and spice grounding him. He lathered it up quickly, scrubbing his skin with a kind of urgency, as if he could wash away not just the grime from the hunt, but the thoughts that had crept into his mind uninvited. He repeated the process with his shampoo, letting the suds rinse away the last remnants of the day, trying to focus on the simple, repetitive motions.
Dean finished rinsing off and turned the water off with a sense of finality. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, then stood in the small, steamy bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror once more. His face was flushed from the hot and cold water, his hair damp and tousled, but it was the look in his eyes that bothered him the most.
He looked… haunted. Like a man fighting a battle he knew he couldn’t win. And maybe that was exactly what was happening. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, to push it down, the feelings he had for you were there, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting for a moment of weakness to break free.
But he couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t. You deserved better than that—better than him. You were young, strong, full of potential, and you had a life ahead of you that didn’t need to be weighed down by his baggage. By his feelings.
Dean clenched his jaw, forcing those thoughts back down, locking them away in that box inside his mind where he kept everything that threatened to break him. He couldn’t afford to dwell on it, couldn’t afford to let himself slip. He had a job to do, and that was protecting you, keeping you safe.
With that final, resolute thought, Dean wrapped the towel tighter around his waist and opened the bathroom door. His mind was still racing, but he forced himself to focus on the immediate task—getting dressed, getting his head on straight, and burying these unwanted feelings deep where they couldn’t hurt anyone.
———————————
A/N: After I already started a damn long story for Jensen and Soldier Boy, here's one for Dean.
Please let me know what you think.🥰
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Part 2
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#jensen ackles#dean and sam#dean winchester fic#dean winchester#dean x y/n#dean x reader#dean x you#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x y/n#spn#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#taking her in
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Across Every Universe
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.1k
Warnings: fluff
Request by anon: Hey Jordan, can i request something where Dean Winchester always have a crush on the reader but never said something to her until one day Sam and Dean are transported (based on the episode French Mistake) and Dean actor Jensen and is married to the reader of the universe and she pass the whole day giving Dean hug and kisses because for everyone is Jensen. When Dean and Sam came back to their universe him and the reader start dating? Fluff
Summary: Sam and Dean are taken back to the same place where Dean is known as Jensen Ackles and Sam as Jared Padalecki. This little trip makes Dean realize his feelings for you.
Square Filled: "god, if only you knew what you did to me" (2023) for @spnaubingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
No matter the position you’re in, you’re not comfortable. It doesn’t matter if you lie down on your side, your back, or your stomach. Not to mention the heater isn’t working in the Bunker so it’s very cold. You have three blankets over you while wearing long sleeves and pajama pants. The broken heater doesn’t help your running cold either. You’re not sure where you caught it from but you’ve been trying to stay away from the brothers to not get them sick.
That doesn’t keep Dean away, though.
He’s a complete sweetheart to you since he always brings you soup, makes sure you’re comfortable, and spends time with you even if you tell him not to go near you. You don’t know what you’d do without Dean in your life.
Speaking of, he knocks on your door and enters wearing his usual hunting attire.
“Going on a hunt?” you ask and sit up slightly.
“Yeah. I wish I could stay here and take care of you.”
“Other people need you,” you smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to stay in bed, watch movies, and make some soup later. Did you fix the heater, yet?”
“I have someone coming in a few days. He’s also on a hunt.”
“Right, no non-hunters here,” you chuckle.
“I’ll call you later and check up on you, okay?”
“My hero.”
You cuddle with your blankets more and Dean leaves your room with a slight blush on his cheeks. Before he closes the door, he looks back at you in thought. God, if only you knew what you did to me.
He closes your door and meets his brother in the library. As soon as they are packed and ready to go, they start the long drive to the next state over. When Dean gets onto the highway, Sam turns to Dean with a knowing smile.
“So, did you tell her how you feel?”
“Stay out of it, Sammy,” Dean rolls his eyes.
“How long have you had a thing for her? Years? When are you going to tell her how you feel?”
“I mean it, Sam. Stay out of it. I can handle it on my own.”
“Apparently not, or else she’d be yours.”
Dean punches his brother not gently in the arm and Sam laughs. Dean kept the music high so he could avoid talking about his feelings for you. They get to the town that has its residents sacrificing themselves in the name of God. If anything, it warrants some kind of visit from the Winchesters.
The town looks like a normal town with normal people just trying to live their normal lives. They have no suspicions that something is happening but they only just arrived. They get there late at night so they will have to do their work tomorrow morning. Dean takes out his phone when his brother goes into the bathroom to shower and calls you.
“Hey, how are you feeling?”
“I’m doing alright but not any better.”
“Did you take your medicine?”
“Yes, I did.” He can hear the smile in your voice and that makes him smile. “And I ate my soup and drank water.”
“Don’t forget to tell her goodnight,” Sam says loudly from the bathroom.
Dean grabs a pillow and chucks it at his brother. “Go take a shower. You stink.”
“Goodnight, Dean,” you chuckle, having heard Sam.
“Night sweetheart.” He hangs up and turns to his brother with a scowl. “I hate you.”
Sam and Dean actually get more than four hours of sleep that night but when Dean wakes up, he doesn’t recognize his surroundings. The motel is gone, the shutty beds and blankets are gone, and the peeling wallpaper is gone. What replaces it is a nice trailer, a comfortable bed, a big aquarium, and other nice shit that Dean has never had.
“Sammy?” he calls out. He gets up and leaves the small trailer only to run into Sam. “What the hell is going on? Where are we?”
“I don’t know.” Sam looks around and spots a name on the side of the trailer that’s behind Dean. “Oh, no. Look.”
Dean turns and sees the name ‘Jensen Ackles’ on the side. He turns back around and sees ‘Jared Padalecki’ on the trailer opposite his.
“You’ve got to be kidding me? We’re back in actor land? What happened last time?”
“Gabriel sent us here to avoid Raphael and his minions. I have no idea how we ended up here.”
“I bet it has something to do with the fact that people were sacrificing themselves in the name of God. My guess is that angels are involved.”
“There you two are.” Sam and Dean turn to see Castiel--Misha--walking toward them. “They’re looking for you two.”
“Yeah, we’re coming.”
If Sam and Dean didn’t do a good job trying to act last time, then they certainly aren’t going to do a good job now. It’s funny in hindsight but it makes for a very long day of filming. After the twentieth time messing up, Dean is ready to get the hell out of there to figure out how to get back to his world.
He looks to the right and sees you at the snack bar. He immediately calls for a time-out and leaves the set.
“Time out?” the director frowns and looks at him. “Everyone, take ten!”
“Y/N?”
“Come here, you have to try this. Gen made it,” you grin at Dean. You take a scoopful of food and present it to him. He opens his mouth and accepts the food, pleasantly surprised by the taste. “Oh, you have something on your mouth.” You wipe his bottom lip with your thumb and lick the food off. Dean is so confused about your behavior but doesn’t have time to figure it out. Your phone rings and you check who is messaging you. “I gotta go. Gen is here.”
You lean up and kiss him quickly before walking off. Dean can’t move after that quick kiss. You did it so casually like you’ve done it a thousand times. He is forced to go back to acting but he can’t do a good job because all he’s thinking about is your lips on his.
They aren’t getting enough filming done so the director calls it for the rest of the day. Sam and Dean convene outside to make it look like they’re busy so no one else talks to them.
“She kissed me, dude.”
“What?”
“Y/N or the woman who she’s supposed to be. She kissed me like we’re together or something.”
“Look, I’m glad you’re going through the five stages of teenage excitement but can we focus here? How are we going to get out of here?”
Dean looks around and spots you entering his trailer.
“Eh, you’ll figure it out. I’ll be back.”
Dean leaves to his trailer and Sam rolls his eyes in annoyance.
“Dean!” he hisses but receives no answer.
Dean enters his counterpart’s trailer and sees you where the bed is. You’re grabbing some night clothes out of the drawers since you’re not going to be leaving the trailer for the rest of the night.
“Hey, I talked to Gen about the cabin and she got it all set up for us this weekend. I’m so excited to spend some time away from all this for two days.”
“Are we dating?” The comment makes you laugh. “What?”
“Are you okay?” He looks kind of nervous so you walk over to him and wrap your arms around his neck. “I don’t know what’s going on with you but I do know how to make you feel better.”
“How?” he whispers.
You run your hands down his chest and take his hands. You take him to the bed and toss your night clothes onto a nearby chair. You fall onto the bed while pulling him so he lands on top of you but he stops himself with his hands so he doesn’t completely crush you.
You pull him down to kiss you and that’s enough to bring Dean into the delusion that you’re Y/N and you’re his. Your lips are softer than what he thought and your body fits so perfectly against his. He slips his tongue into your mouth to get familiar with you. You tug on his hair to get some traction so he pulls away from your mouth and kisses down your neck.
Your neck has always been a sensitive spot for you and he really knows how to work you up. He licks up and down your neck before latching onto the side of it. You gasp, tilt your head back, and moan something that brings Dean back down to reality.
“Jensen.” You’re not his. You’re not you. You’re Jensen’s. You’re not supposed to be with him. He pulls away and pants above you. “What’s wrong?”
“Can we just lay here instead?”
“Yeah, of course. Let me get changed.”
You slip out from underneath him and grab the pajamas you set aside earlier. You strip down naked and Dean has a hard time not looking at you. He can’t help but think you’re a complete stranger. The pajamas you’re wearing are revealing but he feels better at looking at you with clothes on. You climb into bed with him and cuddle into his side, and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your head.
“How did I get so lucky?”
“I’m the lucky one.”
“Tell me the story of how we met.” You look at him in confusion. “I want to hear it from you.”
“Okay, I got tickets to a red carpet event that my ex-friend invited me to. We were going to see the movie My Bloody Valentine because we thought it was going to be the next big movie. The entire cast was there, including you, meeting fans and taking pictures with them. When we locked eyes, it was like something was pulling you to me.
“You came over to me, complimented me on my dress, signed my poster with your number on it which I still have, and the rest is history. I never got together with you because you were a big celebrity. You were genuine, kind, funny, charming, and very sexy. It was hard not to fall in love with you.”
Dean notices the big ring on your finger and puts the pieces together.
“We’re married?”
“Yes, we are,” you laugh. “Are you okay?”
“I’m just… really happy.”
You lean over and kiss him. The next morning, Dean leaves his trailer before you get up. He doesn’t want to wake you even though he wants to. He finds Sam outside his own trailer with a book in his hands.
“Hey,” Dean sighs.
“I might have found a way out of here, no thanks to you.”
“What if we didn’t leave?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“The love of my life is my wife here.”
“That’s not your wife, Dean. She’s Jensen’s wife. She thinks you’re him. Why would you take that away from him? You have a girl waiting for you at home, a girl with whom you’re too scared to do anything about. Don’t take her away from him because you want what they have.”
Dean knows he’s right. He can’t stay here. He’s using this world as an escape from his own.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean sighs. “What do you have?”
“I found this book in the prop section. This might be a TV show but it does have some useful books to make it look real. There’s a ritual we can do.”
And a ritual it is. Once they get the stuff needed and perform it, they are brought back to the town they arrived in a couple of days ago. In order to properly tackle this town, they’re going to need some angelic help. Maybe Castiel can meet them back at the Bunker and figure something out then.
The first thing Dean does when he gets home is go looking for you. You’re still stuck in bed watching your favorite movies on Disney+. You pause your movie when your bedroom door opens.
“Hey, how was the hunt?” Dean doesn’t say anything as he kicks off his shoes. He climbs into bed with you and pulls you close to him. “Dean?”
“I love you,” he blurts. “I should have told you this years ago but I can’t seem to think straight when I’m with you. You make everything better for me, and you’re a better hunter than I ever was. God, I love you so much.”
“I’d kiss you but I don’t want to get you sick,” you smile.
“I don’t care,” he whispers and kisses you.
This is where he belongs. Right next to you.
x
Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchesterfluff#dean winchester angst#dean winchester fiction#dean winchester fan fiction#dean winchester fan fic#supernatural#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fluff#spn#spn fic#spn fanfiction#spn fanfic#spn fluff
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Love, By Any Other Name
Pairing: Castiel x F. Reader
Summary: You want him. Castiel can’t help but crave you. Dean sees both of you and wishes you’d stop being idiots.
AN: This is my first ever commission! Written for @girlsforpjm, who requested "mutual pining" with Castiel. Here you go, lovely! I sincerely hope you enjoy it. 💜
**Also, this is set during season 12.
Song Inspo: “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak
Word Count: 4,500
Tags/Warnings: Mutual pining, angst, blood and injury, (contains events from 12.12), fluff, some spice, implied smut.
“Achooo!!”
Sam grimaces while he watches you wipe your nose against your bare wrist. You shake your head and frown at the dusty tomes piled high beside you. You and Sam have been organizing the library for two hours now.
“That’s it, I can’t do this anymore,” you lament. “I need a break. My sinuses need a break.”
Sam’s lips twitch at a smile. “It’s okay. I got the rest of these.”
You aim a lazy salute at your friend and continue to sniffle as you leave the library. You circle this labyrinth of a bunker for a while, but you can’t seem to find the trench coat-wearing angel that’s supposed to live here too.
You end up in the garage, where Dean is tuning up his Baby. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, and he’s got a grease stain across his cheek.
“Hey, you seen Cas?” you ask.
Dean barely perks up from under Baby’s hood to answer you. “He went out this morning. Haven’t seen him since.”
You pout at that, leaning against the side of the car near where Dean is tinkering.
“Is it too much to ask for him to leave a note or something?” you mutter.
Dean finally glances over at you. His lips edge at a smirk.
“What, miss your little boyfriend?” he teases.
The insinuation manages to take you by surprise. Your face starts to warm in embarrassment, but you cover it with a scoff.
“You should know. He was your boyfriend first,” you volley back. Dean’s expression flattens in annoyance.
“Don’t you have anything better to do right now?” he snarks.
“Nope,” you reply, popping the “P.” But you have mercy on him.
Instead of pestering him further, you just tip over the screwdriver he had balanced on the car’s frame. He makes a sound of protest as it falls somewhere between the gears inside his precious car.
He barks your name, and his angry voice echoes on the walls to magnify his frustration, but you’re already hastening back into the hall and down to the kitchen, trying to stifle your laughter.
You’ve slipped into the kitchen to escape. Yet that’s where you find the bunker’s resident angel, washing his hands of what looks like breadcrumbs in the sink.
“Hey,” you greet him jovially. He treats you with a small smile. “Where were you?”
“Oh, nowhere really. Just stepped out for a bit,” he replies. You get the sense that he’s hiding something. You smile and step closer to him, leaning a hand on the counter.
“Oh, yeah? Where?” you ask. Your eyes gleam with amusement. “Another ‘mission on high?’”
He sends you a droll look. “No.”
You tug on his sleeve. “Come on. Tell me.”
He smiles in return, and he gives you his own version of teasing.
“Childishness doesn’t become you,” he says.
“I’m just curious. You’ve been gone all day,” you reply, tilting your head. Your stare is unyielding, and familiar; Cas knows how stubborn you can be when you want something—especially information. Sometimes he finds it annoying, but in moments like these, it’s tempered by your playful, endearing smile.
“I was on a walk,” he finally admits.
You raise your brows. “A walk? Cas, it’s winter. Like 20 degrees outside.”
“I enjoy nature,” he shrugs. “The cold doesn’t bother me much anyway.”
…Well, he is an angel. You suppose it makes sense that he doesn’t feel the frigid weather like a human would. Your brow quirks with another curious thought.
“So you were washing your hands because…?” you ask.
Castiel’s face becomes a little more bashful. “I was feeding the birds some bread.”
At that, your smile grows. Here he is: Castiel, warrior angel of the Lord, Feeder of Pigeons.
“Well, if you ever want a walking companion, I’d be happy to join you,” you offer.
Castiel gives you a certain look, like he doesn’t quite believe you.
Your lips purse. “What?”
He sinks his hands into his pockets as he leans his slightly hunched form back on his heels.
“Nothing,” he claims. “It’s only, I seem to remember you forcing Dean to kill a spider in your room. You claimed, and I quote, bastard things that crawl don’t belong indoors.”
You cross your arms and stare back at him narrowly, even though you try to stifle a smile.
“What’s your point? Everyone’s afraid of spiders,” you reason.
He raises a brow. “You also claim to have a vendetta against birds.”
“Pigeons, Castiel. They’re rats with wings.” Even Dean would agree with you on that one.
Castiel gives you a dubious look, however.
“Forgive me if I’m skeptical of your supposed love of nature,” he says drolly.
You want to argue more, but Sam enters the room with Dean on his heels. Both men seem to sense they’ve interrupted something. You clear your throat and turn to them.
“What’s up?” you ask, more nonchalant than you feel whenever you’re near the angel beside you. Castiel glances at you, before he too silently addresses Sam and Dean.
“Uh, we’ve caught a case,” Sam says. “It’s not far. Three dead, all with their hearts, and most of their internal organs ripped out.”
“Ech,” you reply with a grimace. “Sounds kind of like a ghoul. Maybe a werewolf on steroids?”
“Well, they were fresh kills, and it’s a full moon. So more than likely we’re looking at werewolves,” he replies.
You smile thinly. “Great.”
You hate werewolves.
Correction: you really hate werewolves.
The thought hits you yet again as you lay on the floor of a dusty old hunting cabin.
The irony.
Dean hefts you in his arms, after slicing his silver blade through the heart of the yellow-eyed bastard that tore you open with his claws.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” you ask, hating how your voice trembles. Dean doesn’t answer you at first. He holds his hand to the oozing gash in your side.
“Nah, you’ll be okay. Just hang in there,” he says. Blood quickly covers his palm. He curses inside his mind.
“Cas!” he calls out roughly.
The angel had been fighting in the other the room with Sam, but after he burns out the eyes of the last werewolf and its body falls to the ground, he hears the undercurrent of alarm in Dean’s shouting. With Sam on his heels, he returns to the living room to find you and Dean.
Castiel’s steps halt in the doorway when he sees you. His face slackens for a moment, but then he hardens. He moves forward swiftly.
“Move,” he says to Dean in order to come to your side. Dean’s eyes widen, but he does as he’s told after laying you down to the floor.
Castiel stares down at your face, offering you comfort with his eyes. You stare up at him in pain, but also with hope, and trust. You’re able to curl your fingers around the edge of his trench coat.
Then he presses his hand to your cheek. He closes his eyes in concentration while he heals you.
Though he expels more power than he should to heal you completely. He knows it when his body sways a little after he’s done. Dean grabs his shoulder to keep him steady.
“You good?” Dean asks.
Castiel nods; he’s more focused on the way you’re catching your breath. You marvel at how your wounds, your pain, and even your blood is gone—completely washed away. He helps you sit up with an arm wrapping around your shoulders. Then he gathers you tight against him, so he can help you stand as well. He wavers again on his feet, just a little, but you’re too perceptive not to catch it. You realize he did too much to save you.
You still chide at him with a frown. “You didn’t have to use up so much of your energy.”
Castiel shakes his head. “Think nothing of it.”
Those are useless words, but you don’t bother arguing with him anymore. You just sigh and hold onto his strong arms while regaining your balance. You know for a fact that you’re blushing when you glance up at him.
Biting your lip, you soon turn away to grab the knife you’d dropped in the fight.
Without you or Cas noticing, Sam and Dean share a knowing glance. It’s subtle, in the way the brothers have perfected. Dean barely curbs a smile as he leads the way back to the car.
You settle next to Cas in the backseat and try not to glance at him too often. You don’t know that he’s trying not to do the same to you.
Dean glances back at you two in the rearview mirror. He shakes his head.
Idiots.
Mary Winchester has been a welcome return to the family…when she’s here. Ever since Amara brought her back, she’s been distant with her sons. You don’t understand it all that well, but it’s not your place to say anything, you don’t think.
You do think Mary is a badass hunter. You just don’t know her that well.
About a week after the werewolf hunt, Mary drops in with Wally, a fellow hunter in need of assistance with a demon problem. You, Sam, Dean, and Castiel are all game. While you haven’t had to deal with demons too much in the past, you know that they’re…something of a specialty for the Winchesters.
But of course, it quickly goes to shit.
The demon lives alone, in some shack by a river where he likes to fish. The group of you wait until he’s stepped out of the house before you go inside and case the place, looking for a good spot to spray a Devil’s Trap or two and try to trap him.
When the demon returns, he’s far stronger than any of you anticipated. The Devil’s Trap breaks with little effort (the demon’s just laughing). Then he flashes yellow eyes. You and Castiel share a look of widening shock. Mary takes a preemptive step back.
And when the kitchen door is about to close on the three of you, the angel pushes you into the next room before you can turn and fight. Sam helps you back onto your feet, though you stare at the door in horror. He and Dean try to break the door down, but it’s no use. It’s supernaturally sealed.
You felt useless standing there. You wrack your brain for a solution, and you glance out one of the windows. Maybe there’s another way into the kitchen!
“Guys! What if we go around?” you suggest.
With that idea taking root in each of you, Sam and Dean follow you outside. Before you guys can even make it around the house, Wally flags you down.
“We’ve got incoming!” he says. And you realize what he means. A group of black-eyed demons are bounding toward the house.
Aw, shit. You’re grateful to have Sam and Dean beside you, because the demons nearly overtake all of you. You manage to hold your own, along with the brothers. Wally isn’t so fortunate. His body hits the floor after his own blade sinks into his chest.
A pit begins to form in your stomach as you scramble toward the Impala. The plan is to catch up with Mary; thanks to Cas, she’d been able to flee the demon strong enough to snap a Devil’s Trap like a cheap trick. But she’d then taken Cas with her to safety.
Now, Dean drives the Impala down the road at breakneck speed.
“Are you okay?” Sam asks his mother through the phone. The car is silent enough for you to hear Mary’s reply.
“…No.”
When you step into the barn, the first thing you have to focus on is Cas covered in his own blood. He’s been stabbed by one of the demon’s strange and powerful weapons, and he lies on an old, dingy couch. You hurry to Cas’s side and take in, your face filled with horror, though you try and fail to mask it.
You reach out a hand, but you hesitate to touch him. Suffering is written across his face. He tries to stifle sounds of pain out of habit.
Tears are fresh in your eyes as you look down at him in dismay. You chance laying a hand on his shoulder.
“Can you heal yourself?” you ask.
“No,” he answers eventually. “I think the demon’s spear was poisoned. I think I’m…”
No, your lower lip trembles as you shake your head.
“No,” you repeat aloud. “You just need time.”
You turn to Dean, who’s approached from behind you. But you quickly turn back to Cas, as if you’ll miss out on precious few moments. Castiel’s furrowed gaze tells you he’d rather not have you see him like this, but you don’t care. There’s no way you’re leaving his side.
The weapon that was able to do this to him was the Lance of Michael, you all discover, when Crowley suddenly appears. He also informs you all that this is no ordinary demon. It’s Ramiel, Prince of Hell. You don’t give a shit about the specifics of how Crowley is wrapped up in this.
All you care about is if there’s a cure to Cas’s wounds. Crowley’s only words of wisdom are to leave the angel behind and run as fast as you can.
He disappears before you can spit at him.
“Cas, how bad is it?” Dean asks, after the King of Hell predictably makes a run for it.
Castiel opened up his shirt collar to reveal a spiderweb of black crackling across his clammy skin, slowly breaking down his vessel.
“Crowley’s right. You should go.”
Your hand tightens on his shoulder. “Cas—”
“No, listen to me,” he says, staring into your eyes. He continues with difficulty. “Look…thank you. Thank you. Knowing you all, it’s been the best part of my life. The things we’ve shared together, they have changed me… You’re my family, and I love you.”
His gaze had fallen on you, making your breath hitch. But his dark blue eyes travel to Sam and Dean next, and even Mary.
“I love all of you.” The angel is the closest to tears and heartbreak that you’ve ever seen him. He struggles to hold himself together, in more ways than one. “Just, please, please don’t make my last moments be spent watching you die. Just run, and save yourselves, and I will hold Ramiel off as long as I can.”
You’re shaking your head before he even finishes the sentence. Tears pour down your cheeks in silent streams, but you still hold him down when he tries to force his body to sit up. He doesn’t have the strength to resist you encouraging him to lie back down.
Dean voices what you’re all thinking.
No. None of you would cut and run and leave him to die, no matter what Cas says.
“Like you said, we’re family. And we don’t leave family behind.”
Ramiel comes for all of you, specifically for his stolen weapon. Killing the rest of you would just be an added bonus.
But while the four of you manage to pin down the demon with holy fire and a good fight, it’s Sam who manages to stab the Prince of Hell with Michael’s Lance, killing him in flash of brilliant light and rendering his body to ash.
Of course, that’s when Crowley arrives once again, late holding his proverbial Starbucks. In this case, what would’ve been a mocha frappe is actually the Lance—and Crowley breaks it in half. It somehow reverses the curse of the blade, and therefore frees Castiel.
He’s able to heal himself back to a full recovery.
But also, rather predictably, Crowley disappears again before you all can recover yourselves.
Sam and Dean help the angel back onto his feet. His clothes are still covered in blood, but his skin is clear and no longer clammy, his eyes no longer bloodshot. He’s shocked to still be alive, and you can barely contain yourself. Tears stream down your face as you surprise him with a hug.
Cas releases an oof, his body wavering just slightly before he plants his feet and wraps his arms around you. His hold tightens around your smaller frame, and he chances resting his chin on the top of your head.
“So…you’re good?” Mary asks incredulously.
Castiel raises his gaze to answer her. “I guess I am.”
You’re quiet for the rest of the drive home. Mary had taken her own car for the hunt, so it leaves you once again in the backseat with Castiel.
He finds your silence perturbing, though he doesn’t have the courage to ask you what’s wrong. Despite his full recovery, you still seem upset somehow.
Part of him wants to reach out to you…but he stops himself. He also reminds himself not to stare at you. Instead, he turns his head back out the window. You felt his gaze on your profile, but you resolve to keep yours stubbornly out of your own window.
The only one who notices the exchange, yet again through the rearview mirror, is Dean. His lips firm into a thoughtful frown.
Home, sweet home, you think wryly when you enter the bunker.
You give into the urge to beeline straight for your room without even turning your head.
Sam and Mary follow suit, which leaves Castiel hesitating in the hall. Dean takes pity on him and claps his shoulder.
“You okay, man?” he asks. Cas is staring after you like a man who’s lost his way.
“She’s…upset,” he replies, both confused and bothered by that fact.
Dean’s lips twitch humorlessly. “Yeah, well, you almost died.”
“Yes,” Cas gives a wry nod. “But she seems upset at me.”
Dean has to smile for real. It’s plain as day what’s on his friend’s mind, and why. Just like it’s obvious as hell (at least to him) why you’re probably “upset.” As always, Dean takes up the role of wingman.
“Why don’t you just go talk to her then?” he suggests.
Castiel hesitates. He’s not sure if he’d be intruding on you. The emotions of human women are foreign to him. They always have been, even when he was human, not so long ago. But he trusts Dean’s advice on these things.
So, he eventually nods. He means to follow you, but Dean stops him for a moment with a hand on his shoulder.
“Maybe after you, uh, wash your clothes. Take a shower. Maybe shave a little,” he says, brushing his fingers over his own chin. “But uh, keep a little scruff. Some chicks dig that.”
“Shave my facial hair, but…keep my facial hair?” Cas tries to clarify.
Dean blinks at his friend. Christ.
“Okay, look, just clean yourself up,” he says. “You’ll be fine.”
With one last clap on the back, Dean disappears down the hall to his room. It leaves Castiel feeling somewhat unbalanced, but he treks the other way.
Normally he would restore his clothes with his powers, but he’d used up his reserves just to heal himself. There was a time when his connection to heaven was enough to do more than heal his own injuries. Now, however, both he and heaven itself are in a lesser state.
Shaking his head, he goes down to the laundry room. He still remembers how to wash his own clothing.
He unintentionally finds you there in the laundry room. You’ve peeled away your jacket that had been stained with his blood, and you’re tossing it into the machine. It leaves you in a thin shirt and jeans.
Castiel finds himself admiring your form; the familiar curve of your face, the shade of your hair, the outline of your bra through your shirt (which he tries not to notice), and the other curves that he has to often felt guilty for tracing with his eyes…and imagining with his hands.
You look up when he enters the room.
He knocks himself out of his thoughts and freezes, a bit uncertain.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he offers.
You just shake your head. “It’s okay.”
Your eyes roam over him then, from head to toe. It makes his face feel a bit warm.
“You want me to throw that coat in with mine?” you ask, pointing over to him. Cas examines his bloody trench coat.
“I’m not sure there’s any saving it, but we can try,” he says. He peels off the coat and allows you to throw it into the watching machine along with your bloody clothing.
“Your shirt’s white, so you should wash that separately,” you advise.
“I know,” he says, with a faint smile. “I, uh, I remember.”
You begin to regain some of your normal self, glancing at him with more warmth in your eyes.
“Do you ever miss being human?” you ask. Cas draws closer to you. He rests a hand near yours, where you lean on the dryer.
“There were some enjoyable aspects. Food, in particular,” he admits. “Now if I try to take a bite of a sandwich, it’s just…molecules, really.”
You wince in sympathy. “God, I don’t know how I could go through life without being able to enjoy another Snickers bar.”
He nods in agreement. He remembers chocolate well.
“But it wasn’t just the taste. It was the feeling of satiety. Sometimes, being uncomfortably full was quite satisfying,” he says. That makes you smile.
But it soon drops when you take in the disgusting state of his shirt. Unbidden, it reminds you of every horrific thing that happened tonight. You really can’t bear it.
“Okay, give me that,” you gesture at the shirt.
You start to unbutton it before he’s really ready for you, but he tries to get over his embarrassment by removing his tie. Meanwhile, you undo the buttons of his shirt while trying not to think too hard about what you’re really doing as you start to see flashes of his skin, from chest to sternum.
He takes a peek at your face.
“Are you angry?” he asks.
Your brows are furrowed, but this time more in confusion when you look up at him.
“No. Why?”
Cas’s brows furrow. “It feels like you’re angry…at me.”
The hasty motions of your hands calm at that. You consider him with a frown. Maybe you are a little upset at him. It’s not really fair, you know, but it’s how you feel. You blow out a sigh.
“I just… After everything we’ve been through, everything you’ve done for us, how could you think for one second that we would leave you there alone? Alone to die?” you ask. It renders Castiel a bit stunned into silence.
Your grip tightens on the now open edges of his shirt.
“Look, that situation was bad enough. But if you ever try to push me away like that again…”
You’re unable to finish that thought. You become waylaid by your own tears as emotion clogs your throat and threatens to choke you.
Castiel raises a hand to touch your face, tentatively at first, then more comforting. He brushes his thumb across your cheek, catching the tears there.
“I wasn’t trying to push you away,” he confesses. “I was trying to save you…because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, even as I lay dying.”
You hold onto his hand. Biting your lower lip, you find enough courage to meet his eyes. They’ve lowered to your lips, you realize, though maybe Cas doesn’t. He seems a bit surprised when you lean up towards him.
You go more slowly. Your hand falls on his warm chest. For God’s sake, do something, you tell yourself.
You don’t know if he can pick up on your thoughts as well with your bodies touching this close, but he seems to have an internal battle of his own. You each make a decision at the same time.
It has you leaning up the rest of the way, and Castiel bending down to meet your kiss.
He gathers you closer; one hand finds its way into your tangled hair, while the other grasps your hip and brings you flush against him. Your hands move up his chest and wind around his neck. He holds you tightly against him as his lips claim yours, over and over with increasing urgency.
He turns you in his arms and hefts you up onto the dryer machine. There he gets even more leverage to kiss you the way he has secretly imagined, to touch you the way he’s too often craved, with his hands warming up and down your thighs.
You utter a moan of longing as you hold his face. You like the scrape of his stubble against your palms. You can almost imagine that delightful tingling against otherplaces down your body. Places you’d like him to explore when you have more privacy…
Or maybe here is privacy enough.
You alternatively tangle and tug your fingers through his hair. And it’s his turn to moan when you take his lower lip between your teeth, scraping just hard enough to be both painful and delightful.
He squeezes your thighs in retaliation. It prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him even closer. Your dirty boots cross behind his back.
But soon, his touch gentles, more tender than demanding as he slows the kiss. His lips veer from yours and burn a path across your jawline, down the smooth column of your neck.
It allows you to catch your breath, but the feeling of his gentle lips and rough cheek just turns you on even more. You card your fingers through his hair and close your eyes.
“Cas,” you breathe in content.
He hesitates, with his lips on your neck. “Yes?”
You blink for a moment, but then you have to giggle. You twine your arms around his neck and hold him close.
“Nothing,” you reply. Your smile says it all though. Cas sees it when he pulls away a bit, turning his gaze back to you. He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand.
“I didn’t think feelings such as this…desires like this, would affect me after I became an angel again.”
Your smile brightens, even as you blush. “Does that make me special?”
“Yes,” he replies, with a soft smile. “But for many more, and far better reasons than that.”
Your eyes begin to sting with unshed tears. You bite the edge of your lower lip, but Cas’s thumb swiping across encourages you to release it.
“When you said that you loved me,” you say, a little shakily, “did you just mean…in the family sense?”
Castiel meets your eyes, and there he finds his courage.
“Yes,” he says. “And no.”
With another one of those smiles he’s come to love, you bring him back in for a kiss. All too soon, it becomes hungrier, rougher, born of passion and secret desires finally spilling free.
“Wait,” you pant against his lips, taking his hands in yours. “Come with me.”
Anywhere, his heart says.
But after you jump down from the dryer, you tug him by the hand out of the laundry room. After a quick scan of the hallway, you give him a playful little smile and lead him down to your room.
Castiel can’t help but smile in return. He follows your lead in more ways than one when the door to your bedroom shuts behind you both.
You help him shrug off his tattered shirt, and he helps you out of yours next, followed swiftly by the belt buckle on his slacks.
In that moment, and many moments after, you’re grateful for door locks. You just hope the Winchesters aren’t dumb enough to interrupt what you have planned next for your angel…
Because it might just take all night.
AN: I haven't written for Castiel in a long time, but I had fun with this. 🥰 I hope you all enjoy it! Let me know what you think. 😘
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Movie sonadow headcanons? Please?
Hi Honey!❤️✨
You’re always welcome to have some SCU!Sonadow headcanons from me!
The Wachowski family is mildly supportive of Sonic when it comes to relationships. That, and it wasn’t much of a surprise to them either. When Sonic approached his parents on the topic, Tom and Maddie him a tight hug and told him that they loved him no matter what.
Tom and Maddie do, however, set strict rules with Shadow. Very strict rules (protective parents). Shadow does his best to respect their wishes.
Sonic likes to take Shadow on small excursion when the two are up for it. And by “small excursions,” it’s usually traveling around the United States at high speeds to look at national parks.
Shadow purrs in his sleep if his ears are rubbed. This was an accidental discovery made by Sonic and Maddie when they found him asleep on the couch. Sonic rubs his ears if it looks like Shadow is having a nightmare.
Shadow sneaks in through Sonic’s window at night and crawls into bed with him to sleep. Sonic pretends to not notice when this happens and smiles to himself. Sonic has learned that this is a comfort thing that Shadow does when he needs it. If he questions it, then Shadow refuses to return until a week or two later.
Sonic likes to r play the guitar for Shadow on slow days. Shadow likes to quietly listen and hum if he knows the song. In return, Shadow reads to Sonic.
Shadow enjoys listening to the rain on the roof. It’s calming to the mind and it helps him relax. He doesn’t like thunder. It makes his blood run cold. If it’s thundering, Sonic cracks open the window from the roof and crawls over to his side with an umbrella.
Sonic and Shadow (mostly Shadow) like to spend hours looking through old vinyl records in music shops. Shadow is very knowledgeable in music between the fifties and early seventies. Sonic got Shadow addicted to Green Day.
Sonic was able to salvage a couple of items from the bunker that Shadow lived in after it collapsed. He recovered a few photos, some clothes, a plush spider (Shadow loves to study spiders and had many books on them), and a couple of files about Project: Shadow. He’s given them for Shadow to view and bury in the mountains to let go of the past.
Sonic and Shadow like to walk around and explore in the forest. Shadow hadn’t spent much time in the forest before due to his past, but Sonic has made it his personal mission to take Shadow to explore places that he’s only heard of. Exploring new places with Sonic usually includes Sonic bringing him random things in his hands to admire, climbing trees and eating snacks, poking things with sticks, chasing after bugs and animals to hold, and the occasional “what’s this?” and takes pictures to share with the family group chat. Shadow occasionally collects things from the forest that look cool to him.
When Sonic and Shadow go super, they leave a trail of flowers behind them on earth.
Sonic and Shadow are not ones for showing physical affection with one another publicly. If they do, they hold pinkies rather than hands. The act is meant to hold a deep meaning to the two: it’s a promise to one another. It’s a promise to be open to new possibilities, as well as be truthful to themselves. When they do link pinkies together, they mutter “always” before they proceed to their destination. (Always is in reference to their conversation on the moon).
#Sonadow#SCU!sonadow#sonic movie 3#sonicmovie3spoilers#sonic movie 3 spoilers#mystery anon#off topic#EEEEEEEEMYFAVESHIP
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some sfw and nsfw headcanons for tpof ren please🦊🙏🏻 instantly fell in love with your writing and craving the foxy dilf
oh anon you’re so sweet, i’m glad you like my writing! AND YOU MAY ABSOLUTELY HAVE DILF REN HEADCANONS I AM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES FOR THAT MAN I AM BARKING LIKE A DOG
sfw
he lets you run your fingers over his scars, tracing them. if he’s feeling up to it, he’ll even tell you the story behind them
still a big anime fan so on his days off he likes to just relax with you and do anime marathons
since ren lives in different apartments, of course you go with him when he moves locations. he found an apartment by the bunker to stay in while you were recovering. traveling while you have multiple open wounds seems like a hassle so he figured it would just be easier to get a place nearby
YOU ARE SO SPOILED!! anything you want, its yours. you once mentioned how you miss all the games you had and you woke up the next morning to just about every new gaming console under the tv, already plugged in and games loaded on them. sometimes you have to be careful with what you offhandedly mention wanting because he will get it for you (he just likes seeing you happy, he lives for your smile)
once you are trusted with being outside (something that took quite a while for you to earn), he will absolutely take you out and about in town just to A) show you off and B) take you on shopping trips. he 100% has a black card. ANYTHING YOU WANT, YOU GET! that sweater is $1500? sure, get one in every color. you like the glass elephant that is made purely of crystal? it can be a decorative piece on the dining table
despite how spoiled you are, you are not free from being punished. you don’t get punished as much anymore, but at the beginning of your relationship, you defied him, hoping that you could get away (either running away or by death, you didn’t care at that point). ren has been through his fair share of punishments, he’s told you such; he knows how to leave a memorable punishment to help you understand. he’s also not above bringing out the shock collar in case the punishments aren’t enough
but after every punishment, he always cleans you up and cuddles with you, stroking your hair as you cry into his chest. depending on how far in the relationship it is, he can feel bad for punishing you but he knows that it’s to help you behave and understand
before you’re trusted to be left alone in the apartments, he’ll bring you with him to the bunker when he’s streaming. the first time you realized where you were, you almost threw up from the pure panic that spread through you. ren cupped your face and kissed you to help calm you down, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t find how absolutely terrified you were adorable. while he’s streaming you are left in the hands of rhino and kangaroo, who you have come to enjoy and consider friends (or at least as close to friends as you can get in your now abnormal life)
ren once considered getting you a pet to keep you company when you’re alone but he quickly discarded the idea due to how jealous he would be. you are his and your full attention should be on him. he might consider something super low maintenance like a goldfish (you would have to beg him for it though because he would still be jealous what a loser)
i personally think that ren would want a family. its not an intense urge he has, not something he thinks about 24/7, but he thinks about it every so often and how nice it would be (he’s also not getting any younger). ren is very fucked up (from both trauma and who he is as a person now) and it might not happen, but he still thinks about it, especially with you. its very cheesy of him to say, but he knows you’re the one. when he’s really going through it and feeling down, he wonders if what you have is real, if you truly love him or if it’s all for show to just survive (you always tell him that if it was just for show you wouldn’t be so willing to be around him and probably would have killed yourself early on babe your stockholm syndrome is showing)
nsfw (under the cut)
cliché but ren likes to bite during sex. he gets rather caught up in the moment and tasting you really gets him going
his heats can be pretty intense. his more clingy side comes out when he’s in heat and he will not leave you alone. from the moment you wake up until you fall asleep for the night (if you sleep during his heat), he has you in different positions and his dick is always inside you. even if you have to get up for something, he is following you, basically piggybacking you with how close he is
while you probably don’t appear in streams anymore, ren will occasionally film you two fucking. he teases you by telling you that you’re live and everyone is watching or that he’ll upload it for his fans later (a lie, you’re for his eyes only now but he does love how flush you get and how you beg him to turn the camera off)
this is already canon but ren loves seeing you in cute, frilly lingerie. there is nothing he loves more than to buy you an expensive lingerie set and have you show it off to him, only for him to rip it off of you within seconds. if he really likes the piece he’ll fuck you in the lingerie and will have you wear it again
phone sex while he’s away. every night he’ll call you just to listen to you get yourself off while he talks you through it. he’s fisting his cock during it as well, but he loves guiding you through it more. he has to make sure you don’t miss him too much. sometimes he’ll cut the call short and will wait for the spam of calls and texts from you as you beg him to call you again so you can cum. if you don’t get to call, he’ll demand you send pictures/videos. anything will do: shirtless pics, videos of you fingering yourself. he keeps everything you send him in a special folder on his phone that he turns to when he needs a quick dose of you
loves teasing you in public. fancy restaurant on the nice end of town? ren has his hand in your pants while the two of you talk over a split dessert (well, he’s talking. you’re trying to not moan out loud in the middle of the restaurant). is not afraid to drag you into an alley and push you to your knees, cock springing out as he tells you to open your mouth. he’s not worried about anyone seeing but if they do he’ll either throw a smirk their way if you’re hidden from their sight or, if you’re not hidden, he’ll remember what they look like and will seek them out later for a ‘friendly chat’ (you are for his eyes only)
BREEDING KINK!!! following my whole ‘ren wants a family’ thing, he def has a breeding kink. even if his intention isn’t to knock you up, he talks like it is. talks about cumming inside you and how good you would look all round and full of his pups. you moan at his words, too drunk on his cock to reply or think about what he’s saying. you’d ask him to cum inside you, begging him to fill you with his cum. he’s also definitely the type to push his cum back into you as it leaks out. (for my ladies: he’ll definitely put a pillow beneath your hips to help the chances if he’s feeling spicy)
#anon ask#i have many thought and opinions (and thots) about tpof ren he is so BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK#god i hope i didnt write him too uwu i try to do the btd/tpof characters justice but ya know#the price of flesh#ren hana#tpof fox#ren hana x reader#smut
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