#i’m already watching spn i don’t WANT another long show to watch (lying)

[gender-premium-tm]

hello zosan enjoyers hopefully this reaches you

[jawritter]

Don’t Make A Sound

Requested by anon HERE

Summary: You are forced to share a bed with Jensen due to overbooking at the Dallas Con he had to work at. What do you do when you catch your boss having a very hot wet dream?

Warnings: Smut, Bed Humping, Masterbation, Public Smut?, Language, shameless objectification of Jensen Ackles, Jensen having a wet dream (yes that’s a warning) I think that’s about it. This is pretty much porn, and I’m not sorry. 

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 1931

A/N: This is completely unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine! Just thought I’d throw this one out there for you guys since my posting got thrown off by a hurricane, and I’m feeling generous tonight. Besides, who can say no to a bed humping Jensen Ackles? I didn’t think so. Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this one!!

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!

***MASTERLIST***

You don’t know how you got here… Wait a minute… That’s not entirely true. You do know how you got here. There were no other rooms available, it was the last Dallas Con of the year, and it had been put off and hyped up so long that it was overbooked. 

You’d been working as Jensen Ackles PA for the last six months. With SPN ending, and his new role on The Boys looming, he’d been overwhelmed in his workload, and he needed a little extra help getting organized, which is where you come in. 

Normally you would have just rented a room close to his. This time though, there were no other rooms available, and the only room available by the time Jensen and yourself got to Dallas was a suite with one king bed. Jensen let you stay with him, saying there was no way in hell you were going to drive across town to rent another room when there was a perfectly good room with a big enough bed to share right here. 

Now here you are.

So yes, you know very well how you got here. Laying in bed, wide awake, staring at the ceiling unable to sleep, with your extremely hot boss laying in nothing but a pair of loose-fitting boxer shorts, and a black fitted T-Shirt, less than a whole foot away from you.

Couldn’t get any more awkward? Wait!! There’s more!!!

Why not just sleep on the pull out couch in the room? Well, that’s because it was currently occupied by one Misha Collins, who had flown down with Jensen and yourself from Vancouver and found himself in the same boat as you. Roomless. 

Alcohol flowed as it does at cons. Too many shots were taken at the bar downstairs attached to the hotel, and Misha was allowed to pass out on the pullout to avoid a drunk Uber ride to God knows where he’d end up. 

You felt Jensen’s weight shift next to you, and a low grunt leaves his lips, but he didn’t wake up. The room was stuffy, and he’d kicked the covers off an hour ago, the light coming from the still it bathroom left very little to the imagination as he shifted over to his stomach with his arms tucked under his pillow. The delicious curve of his ass on display in the loose-fitting boxer shorts, and the T-Shirt that had shoved it’s way up higher on his stomach when he rolled over, leaving that dip in his back exposed that people fangirled all over the globe. 

You mentally slap yourself for drooling over your boss while he unknowingly slept next to you, and forced your eyes to focus back on the ceiling. You were finally starting to feel somewhat of tiredness pull at your subconscious, and you finally let your eyes drift close. Then you heard it. A low moan comes from the extravagantly hot man lying next to. Barely audible, but definitely a moan. 

Your eyes shoot to Jensen as if someone had thrown cold water on you, but he was still laying in the same position sound asleep. 

Maybe you were dreaming and didn’t realize you had fallen asleep. 

Before you could pull your eyes away from his gorgeous body, his hips rolled ever so slightly, and a light moan fell from his lips again, pulling his boxers tighter against his well-formed ass from all the years of fight scene on Supernatural. 

You didn’t move, fuck you barely dared to breathe as you watched him. He was seriously laying next to you having a wet dream? No way.

Your eyes shot over to Misha, who was still sound asleep, or just flat passed out, Jared had pretty much drank him under the table in a bet. He was out thankfully. 

Jensen’s hips shifted again, and your eyes shot back to the scene playing out next to you as Jensen’s hips started to shifted up and down a little as he rutted himself against the mattress in his sleep, his hips finding a deep rhythm as little grunts and moans continued to fall almost inaudible from his perfect mouth. 

You knew you shouldn’t watch, this was wrong, you should look away, but every woman with a pulse, and some men for that matter, wouldn't be able to look away from this. No way. Not a chance.

Jensen’s hips rolled harder, pushing himself deeper against the mattress in search of more friction, and your hand wandered into the waistband of your shorts without you even really realizing it, finding your little bundle of nerve you began to rub harsh little circles matching his pace.

“Hmph fuck,” Jensen murmured in his sleep as he continued to hump himself into the bed, and with a deeper roll of his hips, the red swollen tip of his erection slipped threw he little slit in his boxers, rolling against the mattress as Jensen continued to fuck himself into it. A bead of precum formed at the tip as he continued to swell under his own administrations, dripping onto the white sheet underneath him. 

You bite down on your lower lip to suppress the moan that desperately wanted to fall from your lips as you watch him, slipping your fingers inside your shorts deeper, teasing your clenching entrancing that desperately wanted to be stretched by the man next to you.

He was fucking beautiful. His throbbing erection slipping through the opening in the front of his boxers, rolling against the bed with each push of his hips. His brow furrowed with a thin layer of sweat already forming there. His lips pouted in concentration. 

With each roll of his hips against the mattress, his breath started to become a pant, and a hushed moan from a moment ago became more and more prominent. 

“Y/N!” he moaned loudly, and his eyes snapped open mid-thrust against the now rooted covers that had gathered underneath him. His eyes wide with horror as embarrassment burned hot in his face. His perching green eyes locked with yours before a prominent pout formed on his beautiful face, and you were almost sure for a moment he looked as if he was going to cry from sheer embarrassment. 

Quickly jerking himself back into his boxer he broke eye contact with you and made to get up out of the bed.

“Y/N, I’m so fucking sorry, I’ve never done anything like that before… I don’t… I’m sorry.” 

Grabbing his pillow he made to stand up but his throbbing length strained harder against the thin fabric of his boxers, so running with dignity was out of the window, hell dignity period was out of the window. Admitting defeat he grabbed the thin sheet and threw it over his hips, covering himself with the pillow that he had in his hand for good measure, then burying his face in his hands as if he wanted to die right there. 

You had two choices, you could roll over and pretend you weren’t just enjoying the show, because he’d obviously hadn’t noticed that you were, or you could shove him down on the bed, and give him the ride of his life. At this point your job was probably shot anyway, so you chose the former. He was so embarrassed that surely he’d fire you in the morning. 

“It’s okay Jensen," you whisper, crawling over to his side of the bed, and moving the pillow away from his lap, revealing the prominent tent in his boxers as you ripped the sheet away. 

He watched with his jaw hanging open as you slipped your shorts, and underwear down in one go before shoving him back down on the bed, shushing him as he laid back. 

“Don’t make a sound,” you tell him as quietly as you can, giving Misha a quick glance to make sure he was still sleeping before taking his pulsing length in your hand, pumping him a few times before sliding down onto him. 

Your mouth falls open in an inaudible moan as his back arched up to meet you as you slowly sink down onto his sizable length, and he stretches you open until you were fully seated on his lap with him inside of you, your walls already clenching around him as he bit down hard into his lips. 

He was already panting again, his eyes slammed shut in an attempt to make no sound, his mouth fallen open just slightly; letting you see his perfect row of white teeth and tongue peeking out just over the edge.

When he was finally able to open his eyes again they were at least three shades darker than what they were when he’d woken up, and his fingers found your hips in a bruising grip. Slowly at first, Jensen helped you begin to move your hips. Rolling in a slow teasing motion as you both become used to the feel of each other. His thick length hitting that place deep down inside of you very few men had ever reached, his eyes watched you bodies where they were connected.

You could already feel that familiar coil winding tight in your stomach as you moved above him, pushing you to rise and fall on him faster and faster as his hips rose and fell to meet yours as you rode him. 

“Fuck Y/N, I can’t, I’m about to fucking blow. Cum with me sweetheart,” he panted in a hushed whisper. Sitting up quickly he pulled your bodies tighter together as you continued to grind down on his cock, his pelvis hitting your clit at just the right angle, and before long you were a shaking mess on top of him as your walls clamped down around him, and he spilled his seed deep inside of you. Both of you held onto each other as he pushed you both through your high until you both fell back onto the bed a painting mess. 

You buried your head in Jensen’s shoulder as his arms wrapped around you protectively, his lips finding yours in a deep, passionate kiss. 

“That was,” Jensen said in a hushed whisper as his eyes searched yours and he struggled to find the words to say.

“About fucking time,” Misha exclaimed loudly from the pullout bed across the room. Making Jensen and yourself look at each other in a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

“Now if the two of you are fucking done, I’ve got a 5 AM flight I have to be ready for in the morning.” 

Jensen chucked as you buried yourself deeper into his hold, trying not to laugh hysterically because of your nerves. 

“Sorry Mish, go back to sleep,” he chucked as Misha got up and made his way to the bathroom, mumbling something about Jared owing him 100 bucks.

“So, where does this leave us?” you asked Jensen the question you feared the most, and he took a deep breath, staring towards the ceiling in thought.

“Well, I can either give you a raise and call you my VERY personal assistant or I can take you out to dinner tomorrow night; and call you my girlfriend instead?”

You settle yourself down into the covers as he pulled the over the two of you with a stupid smile plastered over your face. 

“You know what, dinner sounds great.”

Misha stumbles his way back to the bed, snorting in amusement. “Honestly Y/N, I would have taken the raise.”

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

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[katymacsupernatural]

Not My Reality Part 2

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Story Summary: Y/N wakes up in a nightmare. Is it her new reality, or can she figure out how to fix it. How can she get pack to her husband Jensen?

READ PART 1 HERE

“Yeah, you’re married to me,” You retorted, angrily wiping away a tear. This day was completely destroying you, and you knew it was nowhere close to being finished. “We’ve been married for two years now. Living in Vancouver. Jared and I met when he was filming Gilmore Girls. Why can’t any of you remember this?”

Jared roughly took you by your shoulders, pushing you through the hallway until he forced you to sit down on the couch. Jensen followed along cautiously, perching on one of the arm chairs. “Jared, what the hell is going on?” He asked, and you wish you had an answer. 

Hastily wiping away another tear as it fell, you wrapped your arms around yourself, wishing they were the comforting arms of your husband. But he was looking at you as if you were crazy, and you knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. 

“I have no freaking idea,” Jared answered, sitting down in the other chair, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was on my morning run, and found her standing in the park. She has no idea how she got here, or why. No money, no phone, anything.”

“Y/N, what drugs are you on this time?” Jensen asked, his green eyes searching your face.

“I’m not on drugs!” You exclaimed. “You of all people should know why I’d never do drugs!”

Both men looked at each other, completely exasperated. “Y/N, I really don’t know what’s going on. But Jared and I are so freaking tired of you and your escapades. You know very well that you’ve only been out of rehab for a couple of months. I was really hoping you would stay clean this time.”

This sentence was the final nail in the coffin. You were so lost, and alone, and had no idea what to do next. Your face crumpled as your chest constricted with fear and anxiety. Tears streamed down your face. “No, this isn’t real,” you whispered. 

With tears streaking down your face, you peered back up at Jensen, pleading for help. “I don’t know what’s going on, but that’s not me. Not the real me anyways. I would never touch drugs! You should know that. Not after Felicity had overdosed in college. I just want to wake up and this all be over.”

The two men stood up and headed into the kitchen, leaving you alone. You could hear their hurried whispering, but it was too soft to make out any of the words. Jared’s laptop was sitting on the coffee table, and you opened it. Quickly searching your name, you were dismayed at what you saw.

There were so many stories of you. About your guest appearances on Supernatural and other shows. But more than that, it was the stories about the rehab visits, and crazy stunts that you always seemed to pull. It was you, but at the same time it wasn’t. This you had shorter hair, and multiple tattoos. While Jared and Jensen continued to argue, you typed in Jensen’s name. Your heart shattered at what you saw. Jensen was smiling at a gorgeous woman, their arms wrapped around three beautiful children. 

“He has kids,” you whispered. In your reality, or whatever the hell it was, the two of you had just started trying for a baby. Which you think you had already succeeded, and had planned on taking a test that morning. Holding your hand to your belly, you scrolled through more pictures, trying to wrap your mind around this. 

Jensen came over then, closing the laptop and sitting down on the edge of the coffee table. “Listen, no more lies. Jared and I only want to help you. So please, tell me. Are you back on drugs?”

Shaking your head, your eyes filled up with tears once again. “No. I promise I’m not.”

He searched your face for a moment. “Jared, I believe her.”

“Then how the hell can we explain what’s going on now?” Jared asked, standing behind Jensen, eyeing you as if you were completely crazy.

“Listen, I know you’re not going to believe me, but I need to say this.” Taking a deep breath, you knew this was going to make you look crazier than before. “Please just listen. Give me a chance to explain.”

“Of course,” they both answered, but you could see the sceptisism on their faces, and you knew that no matter what you said now, they probably wouldn’t believe it. 

“I don’t know how I got here. I live in Vancouver, full time. With my husband, who happens to be Jensen Ackles,” you could see the raised eyebrow, but you continued. “Not this Jensen. My Jensen. We’ve been married for two years. I’m a regular on Supernatural now. Jared is my best friend, who introduced us. I haven’t had a glass of alcohol since college. No drugs. I was laying in bed with my husband this morning, and when I closed my eyes, everything changed. Now I’m here, confused out of my mind, and I just want to get home.”

“You’re acting as if this is an episode of Supernatural,” Jensen sighed. “But things like that don’t happen. Not in real life. Maybe you didn’t take drugs knowingly. Maybe it was a prank.”

“Look!” You exclaimed. “No tattoos. No piercings. I noticed a scar on my...her face. Do I have that?”

They looked you over closely, their eyes widing as your word sunk in. “Well, there...there has to be a reason behind that.”

“Yeah, and if you can figure that out, please let me know. I’d like to get back to my real life.”

Jensen and Jared continued to talk while you excused yourself to find the bathroom. You passed by photos. Photos of Jared and his family, photos of Jared and Jensen together. Not a single picture of you. 

Wiping away the tears that you couldn’t seem to stop from falling, you quickly did your business before joining the two men back in the living room. “Listen, we’re going to go to Jensen’s house. We’re going to figure this out, I promise.”

Anxiety had your knee tapping as you sat in the back of Jensen’s SUV. You nervously picked at the loose thread on your sweatshirt, having no idea what you were going to find there. If his wife was home. How could you just stand there and watch as she interacted with her husband. It should be you, getting ready to find out your news. Sharing what you knew was going to be good news with Jensen later that evening. 

The house was huge. Parking in the garage, Jared and Jensen quickly led the way, letting you follow behind. Pictures filled the bookshelves and walls as you passed. So many pictures of Jensen with his beautiful wife. His adorable kids. So much love between everyone. It created this large knot in your belly. “Y/N, come on,” Jensen muttered, leading the way into his office. “Dee and the kids won’t be home until this evening so we have some time to figure things out. What is the last thing you remember before the park bench?”

“Being in bed with my Jensen. Spending an intimate moment together,” You said, ignoring the raised eyebrow of Jared.

“So, wait,” Jared held up his hand. “Our Y/N has never seen you naked. Maybe there’s a mole, or scar. Something that would just prove she’s not lying.”

Jensen thought carefully, but you answered first. “Well, I don’t have the scar that this Y/N does. But my Jensen has a scar. It’s his inner thigh. About an inch long, and ragged. He got it from a barbed wire fence when he was 15.”

Jensen’s mouth gaped open. “I have that scar,” he mumbled. “And there is no way our Y/N would have known that. 

Read Part 2

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[meganlpie]

My Demon King

Based on this request:  You said you’d like some SPN requests? If so how about a Crowley x reader the reader being the youngest Wichester and even though she is a tough hunter she has a weakspot for the Demon. Though, thinks his flirtation is just a facade and he’s not interested in her. When a solo hunt goes wrong and the Wichester plus Castiel try to find the reader they are met with a really worried King of Hell who helps them. At this point Dean decided that he’d be okay with the two dating because Crowley was as worried as they were.

Here you are! It’s been so long since I’ve written our beautiful King of Hell! SPN Characters are NOT mine! The belong to the writers/creators of the show!

Warnings: A little angst, mentions of injuries and hospitals. Fluff! Protective big brothers.

Pairings: Crowley x fem!Winchester reader

You playfully rolled your eyes and shook your head at Crowley as he flirted. This was your normal. How silly is that? Your normal is sitting there listening to the King of Hell flirt with you. It was an act, sure. He was probably just trying to get information. But he was charming and could be really sweet. Deep, deep down. You knew the demon didn't care for you the way you had come to care for him, but you had a nice thing going.

         In truth, you really liked Crowley. Your brothers may have hated him and been loath to work with him sometimes, but you didn't. You weren't sure how it happened, but Crowley had taken up a space in your life that felt empty when he wasn't around. Somehow, he'd managed to win your heart, piece by piece.

         Your conversation with Crowley was interrupted by Sam, who came into the room with his laptop in hand. "Y/N? Think you can handle a simple hunt by yourself? There's an easy salt-n-burn in Colorado." You nodded and stood. "Sure. See you around, Crowley," you told him, giving his arm a squeeze as you passed by. You missed how Crowley's eyes watched you leave.

         "Whatever you're thinking, stop," Dean warned with a growl. Crowley swung his hazel eyes over to the eldest Winchester. "You're sending her alone?" Sam shrugged and told him that you went alone on easy hunts all the time. "Y/N knows what she's doing. She'll be fine. And if she isn't, she'll call." For some reason, Crowley didn't look appeased, which both infuriated and intrigued Sam and Dean. Sam shook his head and left the room while Dean stayed behind to study Crowley a moment longer. Crowley could see Dean putting the pieces together and made an excuse to get out of there as quickly as possible. Your brothers were right. You could handle yourself. Crowley knew that. So, why did he have a sinking feeling in his stomach?

*time skip*

         Crowley was a demon who was proud of the fact. He was proud that he was ruthless and sometimes cruel. He was proud he had no attachments or anything. But since he had met you, that had changed. Crowley found out he did have a softer side. It was a side he only showed to you. Crowley didn't think it was possible, but you had somehow managed to make him fall in love with you.

         So, when he hadn't heard from you for three days after you left for your simple hunt, Crowley began to worry. Something was telling him that you weren't alright. That feeling didn't sit right with him, so when he finished his daily meeting with his demons, Crowley snapped himself to Earth, where he sensed the angel Castiel was. If anyone knew where he could find the Winchesters, it was the blue-eyed angel.

         Much to his surprise, Castiel was already with your brothers. The motel room was a mess and your brothers were no better. They were pacing and arguing so much, they hadn't even noticed Crowley's presence until he cleared his throat. Suddenly,  to guns were pointed at his face. "That's more like it. Now, what seems to be the trouble boys? And where is your lovely sister?"

         The guns lowered and the two exchanged a glance. "Where is she?" Crowley asked, receiving no answer. Not even Castiel would meet his gaze. Anger coursed through the demon when no one would give him a response. "WHERE THE BLOODY HELL IS SHE?!" he screamed, making the seasoned hunters jump a bit.

         "We don't know. We haven't heard from her. I-It was just a simple salt-n-burn. I don't understand," Sam muttered, turning away from Crowley. Dean still stared at Crowley, but took a moment to glare at his brother. If there was one person Dean was more protective of than Sam, it was you.

         "Where did you denim-clad morons send her?!" Crowley demanded. He was going to find you. Sam told him the area you had gone since he didn't have an actual address. In an instant, Crowley was gone again. Finding you was now his first priority. Sam and Dean looked at each other for a second. Sam shook his head and moved, eager to start his search again. He didn't have time to worry about Crowley. Dean on the other hand couldn't help his mind from wandering to the two of you. He'd never seen Crowley this way. Not in all the years he'd known him.

         Another couple of hours later, Sam's computer pinged. "I got it! I got her! Good girl, Y/N!" Dean rushed over and looked at the small red ping on the computer that hadn't been there before. "She got her phone turned back on. We got her, Dean!" Sam was up in an instant, grabbing his jacket and running out of the room. Dean pulled out his phone and dialed the number he usually hated calling. "Crowley? Sam found her."

         "So did I," Crowley's voice came from the other end of the line, as the demon in question turned to face you lying on the hospital bed. Your body looked so frail. Your skin was littered with bruises and you'd suffered a couple broken ribs and a broken leg. Crowley had found your car first and then followed the signs to the hospital. Once there, he plugged in your phone and turned it on so your brothers could find you.

         Crowley hung up the phone before Dean could say anything else. Then, he pulled a chair up next to the bed and took your hand in his. He didn't say anything at first. Crowley didn't do feelings well. He wasn't sure how to handle them, other than anger. But when he looked at you, all the feelings that he normally suppressed came bubbling to the surface. "What have you done to me, Kitten?" he whispered. He watched your hand for any sign of movement. Anything that would tell him you were waking up. The sign he got was not what he expected.

         "C-Crowley?" His hazel eyes snapped up to your face. Your voice was scratchy and a bit deep from being unconscious. "Hello, pet. Had me worried I was going to have to take your soul back to Hell with me." You let out a chuckle which turned into a cough. Crowley snapped you a cup of water.

         "My brothers would kick your ass and you know it," you said after you put the cup down. Crowley laughed lightly, his hand still in yours. "I-I'm glad to see you, Crowley." Crowley blinked in surprise. "Are you?" You smiled and nodded. "I am. I thought I was going to die. I couldn't really move and no one knew where I was. And all I could think about was how my brothers would be and you. I love you, Crowley. I know it's silly, but I do."

         "Kitten, it isn't silly. I am quite a darling devil, you know." You rolled your eyes, making him smile. "Crowley," you playfully warned. "Truthfully, pet I think that, perhaps, I love you as well." You beamed, wanting nothing more than to sit up and kiss him. As if reading your mind, Crowley laughed again. "None of that. When you're fully healed, we can get into all manner of diabolical trouble. Until then, you are staying right here." You pouted a bit, but knew he was right. "Alright. I love you, my demon king," you whispered before your eyes began closing again. He leaned up and kissed your forehead, not really paying attention to the two people standing outside your hospital room.

         "Are we going in there?" Sam asked, itching to storm in and pull Crowley away from you. Dean just shook his head. "Dude! He's kissing our sister!" Dean laughed lightly, placing a hand on his baby brother's shoulder. "I'm not blind, Sammy. But…she's happy. And honestly, I've never seen Crowley so worried before. I think he really cares about her. I mean, as much as a soul-sucking demon can care. He'll keep her safe."

         Sam huffed, but stayed where he was. Dean let a small smile grace his lips as he watched how careful Crowley was with you. Sure, they'd give him the "big brother talk" later, but for now, Dean was okay just stepping back for a bit. As long as you were happy and protected, Dean was happy. And it seemed the King of Hell was the perfect guy for the job.

(a/n: I hope you liked it! I missed writing SPN!)

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Supernatural Tags: @jotink78​ 

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[amispnrewatch]

SPN 1x06 “Skin”

Okay, I’m gonna try to type while I watch this time instead of forgetting this blog exists until the episode is almost over.

You can tell the footage for the previously on segment was saved on a VHS copy instead of the original film that the show was shot with because even in the HD iTunes version I have it looks low quality as fuck. And jumpy in the way that brings me back to my teens watching the WB all the damn time.

I love this song. WTF is this song. Shazam says “Good Deal” by Mommy and Daddy. I… have no comment, except that it sounds like everything I was listening to in college at the time this shit was airing.

Aaaaand not!Dean turns around to face the SWAT team after obviously torturing some woman. THAT is a cold open.

I wanna know what that car is in the background. It’s pretty. Maybe a convertible Impala? They have similar grills. This is not at all important.

Also, I love that with these higher definition versions of the episodes you can see that Sam’s email is lawboy and whatever dot com and that people in the fandom have started calling him Law Boy. It’s hilarious.

DEAN: Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?

SAM: I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.

DEAN: Oh, so you lie to ‘em.

SAM: No. I just don’t tell ‘em….everything.

DEAN: Yeah, that’s called lying. I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin’ the truth is far worse.

SAM: So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life? (DEAN shrugs.) You’re serious?

DEAN: Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.

Aaaaand now I have Dean and Cassie feelings again and we haven’t even gotten to her episode yet.

SAM: No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.

DEAN: Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.

Aaaaaand now I have Dean and Lee feelings and we’re nowhere near Lee’s episode in season 15.

YOU JUST BLEW THROUGH A STOP SIGN DEAN WTF.

Little Becky. Oi with the reusing of names.

Of course Sam made friends with a bunch of rich kids while he was at college in a desperate attempt to try to be normal.

SAM: You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.

DEAN: We could.

REBECCA: Why? I mean, what could you do?

SAM: Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop. (DEAN laughs.)

DEAN: Detective, actually.

I love that Dean was like “how dare you call me that.”

Okay, after a bit of research, I totally want to take a day trip to Bisbee, Arizona, but it’s already in the 90s here in the desert and it’s not even May so that trip is going to have to wait until… winter or something. There is no way in hell I’m going deeper into the desert when the weather gets hotter.

It’s a historic mining town tourist trap looking place now which is exactly the kind of shit I love.

SAM: Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.

I mean, not technically, technically you would 1) NOT FUCK WITH A MURDER INVESTIGATION YOU’RE NOT LEGALLY INVOLVED IN BECAUSE ANYTHING YOU FIND WOULD BE INADMISSABLE IN COURT 2) find evidence to provide a reasonable doubt for the jury that he did commit the crime. You know, like a lawyer would need to do, Law Boy.

DEAN: I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.

When I made my husband watch this show with me (he’s seen it all at least once now over the years) this is the recurring thing that drove him crazy.

You guys can’t even go in through the back door? Or shut the front door behind you? Really?

REBECCA: (tearfully) Well, there’s no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in.

Yeah, that doesn’t even really mean that she knew her attacker. Just that it was someone she let her guard down around or got in some other way. See: The Son of Sam and Nightstalker, etc.

Love the pinup magnet on the fridge. I’d throw shade at that, but I have a pinup magnet on my fridge too so… pot kettle and all that.

Okay, both people in the next couple are gorgeous.

And oh wow those special effects changing eyes… wow.

This poor couple. I feel so bad for them in this episode.

How… how are the police gonna explain the way he was able to beat himself over the head with a bat??? I…

I love that 5:30 in the morning on TV is clearly like… 10 AM.

Okay, this is a really unrelated point, but the graffiti on the dumpster here reminds me of the Teen Wolf fandoms use of the name Void!Stiles when Stiles Stilinski was possessed by a Nogitsune… I just spent way too long digging through YouTube and my Tumblr tags from back when those episodes were airing looking for a few specific videos and couldn’t find them. The TL;DR reason I bring it up here is goofball, bi-coded main character guy getting possessed by an entity set on destroying the people he loves. SOUNDS LIKE THIS EPISODE AND A WHOLE LOT OF SPN RIGHT. I love that all these monster hunting shows call out to each other.

This scene haunts me years later and I don’t even WATCH Teen Wolf. I just watched the fandom on Tumblr collectively lose it’s shit then tripped down a Hale Pack fanfiction rabbit hole.

ANYWAY

Back to Supernatural, a show that also treated its fan base, cast, and characters like garbage! Huzzah!

DEAN: Well, there’s another way to go—down. (They look down and notice a manhole.)

I’m gonna be mature and ignore the double entendre there…

But I love that Dean thinks of the world in 3D. Which sounds like a dumb statement to make, but this is honestly a good example of that in action.

SAM: I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too.

Really Sam, sewers run by houses? SO WEIRD. I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED.

DEAN: You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds.

SAM: That is sick. (DEAN puts the bloody pile back on the ground.)

Guys, there is a WHOLE ASS EAR in that pile of yuck you’re looking at. I think it’s pretty safe to assume the shapeshifter indeed sheds its skin like a snake. A much… gooier snake.

Sam’s friend is rightfully pissed at him for fucking with the crime scene.

This is before the pearl gripped guns?! Wow. I never noticed that before.

Also, this whole episode gives me feelings.

++++

Cool. Tumblr mobile ate a whole section of my notes on this when it crashed for NO APPARENT REASON. Love that.

It always boggles my mind that actors can trust the people they’re working with enough to let people “tie” ropes around their neck or put them in actually dangerous positions in a scene.

SHAPESHIFTER: He’s sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?

SAM: Where is my brother? (The shapeshifter leans in close to SAM.)

SHAPESHIFTER: I am your brother. See, deep down, I’m just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me. (He backs away.)

SAM: What are you talkin’ about?

SHAPESHIFTER: You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothin’, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. But, still, this life? It’s not without its perks. (He laughs.) I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky. You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Let’s see what happens. (He smiles and covers SAM with a sheet.)

This exchange is just… so much. So many feelings. And I will forever (unless we magically get a fix-it fic mini season someday…) be SO MAD that none of this got resolved in that pointless, trash heap of a finale.

REBECCA: Okay, so, this thing—it can make itself look like anybody?

SHAPESHIFTER: That’s right. (She chuckles.)

REBECCA: Well, what is it, like a genetic freak? (The shapeshifter laughs.)

SHAPESHIFTER: Maybe. Evolution is about mutation, right? So, maybe this thing was born human but was different. Hideous and hated. Until he learned to become someone else. (REBECCA looks around, uncomfortable. The shapeshifter’s eyes glint silver, and he smiles.)

It always amazes me how much of this show is a pile of accidental queer allegories parading around in an ill-fitting toxic masculinity suit.

Vulcan mind meld! I love nerd!Dean. Also, I’m rewatching Star Trek: TOS with my husband, because that is what my life amounts to these days, rewatching comfort TV and flailing over the bits I love.

This post does a better job than I can do of pairing up screen caps with the dialogue of this next scene. SIX EPISODES IN. They’re dumping all of this character depth SIX EPISODES IN. FUCK THIS SHOW FOR NOT EMBRACING ITSELF.

Okay, I love that he screams back in her face after he threw the phone. It’s not something to laugh at because the situation is horrifying, but I can’t help laughing at it every time.

AND THE WAY THEY CUT THESE SCENES. Going from him winding his hand back to backslap her directly to him dropping the chains on the table to show how hard he must have hit her without actually making the actors hit each other. Good job editing department!

I… don’t understand the shifter’s motivation for killing people. If he can take over people’s identities without killing them, why kill them? Is it just because he’s a homicidal, rapist piece of shit? Cause that’s all it seems like.

How did the SWAT team even know she was being attacked? Why can the snipers aim no better than Storm Troopers?

Ugh, these kind of transformation body horror scenes are exactly why werewolf stories have never really appealed to me much. Like, I could do without watching your ribs move and teeth fall out, dude.

BUT.

THIS FUCKING SCENE.

I looked up the song that’s playing over shapeshifter!Dean being caught by the SWAT team and then going through the grotesque transformation. (And as far as I know, the iTunes version has the original music from the episodes.)

It’s a song called “Mary” by The Death Riders

Who's your mother, who's your mother here boy // Who's your mother, whos your mommy dear // Who's your father, who's your father here boy // Who's your father, who's your daddy dear

Silently screaming // Where everyone knows // Daddy's always watchin' // Where everywhere - everywhere I go

I don't wanna be a freak show pretty boy anymore // I don't wanna be a full time slave // I don't wanna be your midnight cowboy anymore // I just want to be Mary

This is… a fascinating choice. Here are the rest of the lyrics. The song as a whole has a weird incesty kinda vibe to it? Kinda like when SPN tries to straight-wash itself and misses the mark wildly. (Like Dean’s male siren episode.)

The midnight cowboy line reminded me of 12x11 and the bull riding scene with “Broomstick Cowboy” by Bobby Goldsboro playing over it

Dream on, little Broomstick Cowboy, // Dream while you can; // Of big green frogs, // And puppy dogs, // And castles in the sand.

For, all too soon you'll awaken; // Your toys will all be gone. // Your broomstick horse will ride away, // To find another home. // And you'll have grown into a man, // With cowboys of your own. // And then you'll have to go to war, // To try and save your home.

And then you'll have to learn to hate; // You'll have to learn to kill. // It's always been that way, my son; // I guess it always will.

Because, you know, why not add tons of feelings into the lyrics, right?

Props to the people who can embrace their rewatches and reclamations of the show with ease. Because every episode seems to remind me of how hollow and tragic Dean’s ending was and I just… struggle all over again.

Anyway, back to the episode so I can move on with my day.

REPORTER: An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home. (A sketch of DEAN appears on the screen.)

DEAN: Man! That’s not even a good picture. (SAM looks around cautiously.)

SAM: It’s good enough. (He walks away.)

DEAN: Man! (He follows SAM.)

(CUT TO: Alley. DEAN and SAM are walking. DEAN steps into a puddle.)

DEAN: Ugh, come on.

I love that we get two tiny little back-to-back vanity moments for Dean here. One commenting on the sketch artist rendition of him being broadcasted on the news and the other tripping in the puddle. There is literally someone running around the city trying to kill people while wearing Dean’s face, but Dean is still concerned with how he looks appears to others. He’s still concerned with keeping up his own performance. The shifter left him with just a t-shirt, so he doesn’t even have his usual comfort layers on and at any moment someone could spot him and call the police or try to kill him for assaulting Sam’s friend. His life is wildly out of control in that moment and the only thing he can try to focus on is his appearance (something semi-controllable) and finding the shifter before any of that other shit can happen.

One day I want to put together a like top 10 episodes focusing on / explaining each TFW character from the series. Like the kind of list you could show someone who’s never seen the show, but has OPINIONS about the characters (or who hasn’t seen the whole show and seen the growth they went through… you know, like the people responsible for the travesty of 15x20). This episode would be on that list. I’m not sure how I could manage to make a list of only 10 episodes to understand Dean Winchester by, but eh.

SAM: What are you gonna do to me?

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, I’m not gonna do anything. Dean will, though.

SAM: They’ll never catch him.

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, doesn’t matter. Murder in the first of his own brother? He’ll be hunted the rest of his life. (He picks up a sharp knife and examines it.)

Speaking of season 15 in general, this right here. This was Chuck’s villain story arc thesis statement. AND THEY DROPPED THE GODDAMN BALL WITH IT. I think that’s the thing that honestly pisses me off the most these days (about 5 1/2 months from when the finale aired) is that they tried making the whole thing a tragedy but did such an awful job with it that it just ended up like a deflating condom balloon at a dive bar concert. Disappointing and gross. The finale for season 14 set them up SO FUCKING WELL and it just… didn’t get there.

Becky’s parents are gonna be pissed at how torn up their house is after all this shit…

And you’re not shooting him when you first see him strangling Sam because…?????

I like that he took the necklace back. Also, is this kinda Dean death number .5 of the show? Like it wasn’t him but it was also kinda him. Eh.

At least they left the windshield on Baby this time. Reflections are better than tearing her apart.

[clairewolf]

i would love to read a meta about your thoughts on possession horror theory since all the main characters are possessed at one point its something I haven't seen much discussion on but is super interesting since they all have such different relationships with possession!

okay this IS something i have been going off about at all times so i'd love to but be aware my thoughts on this are always super disjointed and incoherent (which is why i make video edits bc i feel like i can communicate them there clearer by connecting different clips from the show to express my point) AND this will be under the cut bc i talk about how possession -> sexual violence is like. the core premise of how possession works in spn

SO like to start with. possession in spn is pretty much inextricable from sexual violence, not just because of the act of possession itself but bc of how the show talks about it. with the case of meg and her 1.0 vessel, it's extremely blatant — in 4.02 she says "Seriously, I'm just a college girl. Sorry — was. I was walking home one night and got jumped by all this smoke. Next thing you know, I'm a prisoner..." and that is just word for word about the most textbook sexual assault scenario people think up. so that's there on a metaphorical level already, but there's also a literal level with meg actually sexually assaulting three different characters (sam in 1.16, jo in 2.14, dean in 5.02 — all while assaulting the vessel she's in at the same time), and demon deals being sealed with a kiss is also another way that manifests (and the horror in that is especially heightened in cases like bela's demon deal — she was A Child and making that deal to Escape Abuse At Home To Begin With — and mary's deal — azazel was literally possessing Her Father at the time)

then you have angels where their premise is that they can't occupy a vessel without their consent. like that's their Rule. but getting a "yes" means so little when you are going up against an angel like that. they can't technically lie to get your consent, but they can misrepresent the truth all they want. angels are all powerful and they can promise their vessels that they'll fix all of their problems. sam tells lucifer that he'll die before saying yes to him and lucifer says he can just resurrect him, there's no way to avoid him. i think a lot about what castiel must have said to claire to get her to agree to become his vessel — in my head he told her that if she agrees, he will bring jimmy home bc that is exactly the kind of thing a ten year old in her situation would agree to. and then castiel goes to jimmy and tells him. "it's time to go home now. your real home. you'll rest forever in the fields of the lord." and to cas that is… Keeping His Promises. but i'm sure claire internally was going I DIDN'T AGREE TO THAT. so angel consent is really just as flimsy as straight up demon possession, to me.

aaaand then of course you have the sam and gadreel plotline wherein sam is LITERALLY tricked into saying yes and kept locked away living fake realities in his brain when gadreel takes over and dean keeps lying to sam's face so sam doesn't find out the truth about what is happening in his own body etc etc. gadreel manipulated dean into it by lying about his own identity and lying about how long he would stay in sam and just generally lying about everything. it's obviously extremely loaded and horrifying for sam who already has so much body/possession trauma behind him at that point (lucifer, meg, that kid in swap meat, etc you get the picture!) AND struggling with perception of reality post-hell AND on top of that gadreel like. kills sam's friend. while wearing his body. so sam has that to deal with forever on top of all of these other retraumatizing sets of circumstance. [sam is also the victim of the MOST sexualized language when it comes to possession, eg lucifer is wearing you to the prom eg you're like that prom date that keeps turning me down eg a dozen other lucifer lines i don't expect you want me to repeat in this post]

with dean i think a lot of problems stem from the idea that he is Made for doing x thing. like he's made for being a hunter he's made for watching out for his brother he's daddy's blunt little instrument. he Could change and he's constantly taunted by all the ways that he could change but he won't, bc he thinks it's too late for him, or that bad things will happen if he does, or he's just not capable of changing for good. so then you get the angels telling him that he's Made to be michael's perfect vessel and taunting him with visions of how he will ruin the entire world and everything he cares about if he says no and that breaks him down like, pretty fucking fast. and he survives season 5 without saying yes to michael at the cost of sam jumping into the pit with lucifer which is obviously. everything he was most afraid of happening anyway. and then fast forward eight years and alt universe michael makes dean his vessel anyway so the theme of Inevitability is just always There he really was Made To Be This

and then cas is, as i was talking about earlier with @eurydicecas (hi i hope u do not mind the tag), the only one who has been on BOTH sides of this like cas possessed jimmy and then lucifer possessed cas and it's like — the show never really gives the proper attention to how cas feels about all of this, we know he says yes because he's suffering from chronic I Want To Feel Useful To The Winchesters (dean) disorder but the aftermath of that is really barely explored and it's just a huge missed opportunity. but we were also talking about how with angels and consent it's like angels aren't always cognizant of how much they stack the deck against their vessels to control their consent — they think that as long as they can promise their vessel goes to heaven and lives in eternal peace in the end, does it really matter whether they die at 30 or at 80? the preciousness of human life and their time on earth is just NOT something they understand, and most of them don't want to understand, but cas does learn that! he grows to love the world like a human would and even spend time as one and feel as one and THEN… be used as a vessel as one for lucifer. like. by that point it's NOT jimmy's body it is HIS body he feels a sense of pride in it he feels at home in it and then he spends all that time waiting in the bunker kitchen in his brain its just fhfkgsmd. insane.

anyway none of this is truly meta it's just me getting a ramble of thoughts out about this because it is something i am extremely passionate about and love to talk about but it's so hard to get my thoughts about it out in an organized way bc at the end of the day it all just makes me !! so !! insane !!

[idreamofplaid]

It Begins

Square Filled: Tongue Fucking for @spnkinkbingo & Singing Christmas Songs for @spnchristmasbingo

Characters: Sam x Olivia (OFC); Jensen and John mentioned

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Oral (female receiving)

Summary: Olivia is new to the marketing firm owned by John Winchester, and is surprised to be assigned to an important ad campaign for a high profile client. She feels like she’s in over her head with the work, but she’s in even deeper with the boss’ son, Sam.

Word Count:3781

A/N: This is Part 1 of a Series called Surrender to the Truth. It’s an AU mash up of RPF and SPN characters. I’m also playing with time. Imagine Season 8 Sam and Jensen a year or so into the future.

It was beta’d by the wonderful @fangirlxwritesx67. Thanks Viv for your patience with all my questions, your enthusiasm for this project, your thorough reading that really made me think about what I was doing, and the series title. 

Why were Mondays always like this? Olivia found it hard to decide what to wear after a weekend of being relaxed in pajamas and denim. Traffic was predictably the worst, even more so because of the holidays, and if there was any day she was going to forget and leave her coffee on the kitchen counter; it was Monday.

She made it to work on time with only a couple of minutes to spare. This was only her second week on the job at the city’s most up and coming marketing firm and being late was not the way to make a good impression on her new boss. John Winchester was a man with exacting standards and high expectations.

Her first stop was the coffee pot in the breakroom. There was no way her creativity was going to start flowing without caffeine. Cup in hand, Olivia made her way to her office. It was a respectable office, larger than the little more than a closet sized space she’d had in her last office. This one even had a small window. These things might seem insignificant, but Olivia had worked hard for them, and to her they were badges of success.

Olivia had barely had two sips of her vanilla creamer laced coffee when she had a visitor in her office, the kind of visitor who doesn’t knock: Sam Winchester. She hadn’t been here long, but she had been filled in on Sam. He was practically legendary among the women of the office, and some of the men. She took another sip of her coffee to hide the fact that her mouth had fallen open. This guy lived up to the hype. 

He was wearing a white dress shirt, minus the jacket, and the way his shoulders and chest filled out that shirt was nothing short of sinful. His tie formed a perfect Windsor knot at his throat, and the face above that tie was Greek god handsome. He was a Greek god with dimples.

As he walked across the room, his every move exuded power and privilege, without the arrogance. Holy fuck. Could a man be more attractive?

 He put a folder down on the edge of Olivia’s desk. Work. Right. He expected her brain to focus on what his family was paying her for.

She sat down to take a look at what was so important Sam Winchester himself had delivered it.  When he spoke, his voice was just as delicious as the rest of him.

 “New account. Dad wants you to take it.” He sat down smoothly on the edge of her desk to watch her look through the file like he owned the place, which he basically did. She finished looking through the file then looked up at Sam, more confused than ever. She was the new kid here. Why would they give her something this high profile, as in Hollywood high profile?

It wasn’t her most impressive moment or the most professional thing she’d ever said, but she blurted out, “Why me?”

Sam rested his hand on his thigh. The way his long fingers spread out over it wasn’t helping her concentrate or wrap her head around this situation. “Because you’re from Texas. Gives you insight into the culture, the vibe, the feel of it.” He stood and adjusted his tie, drawing your attention to his hands again. “This Ackles guy is a personal friend of my dad’s, so make it good.” As he left, he looked back over his shoulder. “Besides, everyone likes beer; you’ll come up with something.”

She said to the empty room, after he closed the door behind him, “No, actually I don’t.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For a couple of minutes after Sam left, all she could do was stare at the nicely framed but generic artwork on her wall. The Winchesters were trusting her with a huge account for some reason, and she was scared completely out of her mind that she was going to screw it up and ruin her future with this company, along with her career in advertising. Why did it have to be beer? Finally, she opened the file and spread the pictures of the brewery and the photos of its famous owner across her desk. 

She picked up one of the glossy pictures of Jensen Ackles in all his male model perfection and took a good look at it. He was just as gorgeous as Sam, but his look was distinctly different.  His eyes were a clear green, and they held a deep intensity. Those eyes were captivating in a photograph. What would they be like in person? She allowed herself to indulge in that fantasy for a few seconds then shook her head to break the spell. She needed some Bailey’s in her coffee. Excellent idea. She was already walking a perilous line at this new job, so why the hell not?

Olivia swiveled her chair and opened the cabinet behind her, reaching into the back to grab the bottle of liquor where she’d stashed it. She poured a generous amount into her cup, hoping it would calm her nerves. With that in mind, she turned on some music. The soothing notes of an instrumental version of “White Christmas” floated from the speakers. 

She closed her eyes and let the taste of the coffee and the Irish cream sit on her tongue. This had been one of her favorite Christmas songs when she was growing up. It always took her to a fantasy wonderland, a place where life was ideal and Christmas cottages had perfectly trimmed trees with beautiful presents piled beneath them, fireplaces alive with glowing fires, stockings hung on the mantel, and snowflakes falling gently outside. Living in Texas, snow had been a magical and rarely seen event.

That long cherished holiday dream filled her mind and calmed her. She started singing along with the music. ...just like the ones I used to know.  After a stanza or so, she opened her eyes to focus once again on the pictures of the brewery in front of her. A snowy Christmas was her fantasy, but she had a job to do; that was her reality.

By the end of the day when Sam came back to check on her progress, Olivia had practically nothing to show him. It would do no good to try and stall or hide just how little she had managed to accomplish. He was her supervisor on this project, and he was here to see how much progress she’d made. 

He flipped through the work she’d done that day. His expression was unreadable, but his words were clear enough. “The Taste of Texas? Not exactly original is it?” He paused and cut his eyes over to her, then dropped them back to the papers he was holding. “The drawings aren’t bad though. We can probably use some of these hill country sketches. Maybe a logo design.” He closed the file and tossed it back on her desk.

 “Do you know what you need?” Her silence said she didn’t. “Inspiration.”

She put her hand on the folder lying on her desk, the one that represented her failed day of work. “Where do I get that exactly?” She was unable to keep a hint of exasperation out of her voice.

He flashed her those unbelievable dimples and winked. “Follow me.” Sam took her to his office. It was easily four times the size of hers with an entire wall of windows that revealed a breathtaking view of the city, the lights from the skyline competing with the white lights on the tastefully decorated Christmas tree that adorned his office. It was opulent and sleek, a space befitting the heir to the growing empire. 

She allowed herself to indulge in the breathtaking view of the skyline for a few seconds before commenting, “It’s an incredible view, but I don’t see anything about a family business in Texas out there.”

“Your inspiration isn’t out there; it’s in here.” His voice drew her eyes away from the magnificent view. Sam walked to his mini fridge and pulled out a six pack. He held it up. “A little Cosmic Cowboy from Family Business Beer Company. How can you create an impactful and memorable campaign without sampling the product?”

Sam twisted the top off a bottle and handed it to her. She took a sip of it. Unfortunately, she wasn’t one of those people who could describe the taste of beer. It was cold. It was beer. That was all she had. She was not a connoisseur. How was she ever going to do this ad campaign? She didn’t even like beer.

Sam had been watching her reaction carefully. Olivia didn’t have a poker face, though she’d tried to hide her reaction. It didn’t slip by him that she wasn’t comfortable with this beer thing. 

“Not your favorite then?” He took a drink from his bottle. “Taste it again.”

He was the boss’ son, effectively her boss right now, and this was her job; but she got the feeling she would have done whatever he asked even if that hadn’t been the case. She took another sip, and Sam coached her through it. “Think about what you’re drinking; savor it. Just like wine, beer has notes; and they’re all different.”

She took one more drink. “What am I supposed to be tasting?” She’d never been good with wine either, but once someone explained there was blackberry or oak or whatever in it; she could pick up on that. She needed Sam to tell her what she should be tasting.

“Do you taste how it’s substantial but still light?” She took another sip and nodded. “It’s the grapefruit and pineapple that make it light; the pine in it gives it a little something more.” When he said it, she could taste it. She could taste it all.

Sam’s office had a fireplace, not like the one in her fantasy Christmas cottage, but when he picked up a remote and clicked it bringing the flames to life, it was cozy nevertheless. Sam took off his tie and tossed it on one of the upholstered chairs in front of the fire. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves. Absentmindedly, Olivia took another sip of her beer while she watched him. 

Sam sat down on the plush rug in front of the fireplace, his back leaning against the leather sofa, legs stretched out in front of him. He put what was left of the six pack of beer down beside him and patted the floor on his other side, inviting her to join him. Olivia lowered herself next to him. She was thankful her pencil skirt wasn’t so tight that it didn’t allow some freedom of movement, and she tried not to stare at the way the firelight danced over his golden skin. He caught her looking at his strong forearms, exposed below the rolled white cuffs of his shirt. Sam smiled, a flirty and suggestive sort of smile. He finished the last of his beer, and popped open another.

Olivia was slower to finish hers, but she was beginning to warm up to the taste. Perhaps it was something you had to acquire, or maybe the company you were in made all the difference. Beer might be okay after all. 

He asked, “What do you think of it now?”

“I can taste everything you said.” The crackle of the fire, the lights from the Christmas tree, and the skyline in the background created a perfect storm of romantic atmosphere. Olivia noticed how Sam’s eyes were a beautiful honeyed brown, dappled with green and gold. His lips looked incredibly soft in contrast to the hard line of his jaw. He caught her starting again, this time at his mouth. 

He took her empty bottle and slotted it back into the cardboard square where it had originally been and put what was left of his beer in the empty square beside it. Sam turned back to her and leaned in closer. He took her face into his hand and looked into her eyes for a long second or two before he lowered his mouth to hers. 

The way he kissed was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. His tongue was sure but gentle as it circled hers. He had complete control of her through what his mouth was doing. A wet spot was forming in her panties, her body responding to him. At the same time his hand was cradling her face while his fingers moved slowly back and forth through her hair, massaging her scalp and melting her under his touch. He could do anything to her. She was eager for it.

He broke the kiss, and now he was holding both sides of her head in his enormous hands. His lips were still just inches from hers. She could feel his breath when he asked, “What do you taste now?”

This man could make her breathless. He was either meant for her, or he was excellent at reading her actions and responses. His attention was completely on her, waiting for her response. 

 “I...can still taste the beer, but the way you taste makes it better.” It wasn’t eloquent. For someone who worked with words to pull the maximum effect from them, he could make her forget how to use them properly. 

Sam kissed her again, hands roaming down her back and stopped just above her waist. “You know what else might really inspire you?”

Olivia pressed her body so tightly against his she could feel the muscles in his chest and stomach through his shirt. It made her wetter. “I have some ideas.” 

He took off her jacket and let it fall to the floor. “Then let’s get those creative...juices flowing.” The blouse she was wearing was form fitting. Sam’s gaze traveled over her breasts before his eyes locked onto hers.

 A spark traveled between them. Lust? Need? Want? Whatever it was, the sexual tension hung in the air for a moment before their lips crashed together. 

Sam lowered her to the floor while he pulled her shirt up. He broke the kiss to tear it  over her head and throw it out of the way. Now it was his turn. She took a fistful of his shirt and pulled it out of his pants, then did the same on the other side. He propped himself over her on his hands while she unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. She ran her hand across his chest and over his shoulder. What he’d been hiding beneath that expensive shirt was impressive.  

Sam smiled down at her. “You like?”

“Very much,” she answered while he took off her bra and lowered his head to take one of her nipples in his mouth. He teased it with his tongue until she was arching her back and raising her hips off the floor. 

Sam sucked hard on the nipple in his mouth before pulling off it. “Do you want more?” Her eyes closed and her lips parted, a small moan escaping from them. 

He unzipped her skirt and dragged it down her legs, then turned his attention to her lace covered mound. Sam rubbed his fingers over her panty covered core. “Already so wet.” He pushed her panties aside and swiped his fingers through her folds. Then he lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked her juices from them. His eyes bore into hers. “Tastes so good.”

He tore her panties from her body to gain access to what he wanted; she heard the sound of silk and lace ripping. Sam’s hand felt huge on her thighs as he pushed them wide apart. He held them there, and his tongue found her clit. He sucked it the same way he’d worked at her nipple. 

She was raising and lowering her hips beneath him, fucking nothing and needing to be filled until Sam swirled his tongue all the way down her slit to her opening and thrust it inside. She wasn’t empty anymore, and it felt incredible. He moved his tongue in and out of her, fucking her on it until she was writhing and grabbing fistfuls of his hair. 

She wanted to scream but was still aware enough to know they were in the office building. So, with some effort, she held it in. But when he added the pad of his thumb circling over her clit while he continued to thrust into her with his tongue, she started to whimper and moan. Her thighs were shaking when she came on his face. He licked and stroked her through her orgasm until she went still beneath him.

Sam didn’t move for a few seconds, then he raised himself up so he could see her reaction to what he’d done to her, how it had affected her. Olivia smiled up at him, and Sam returned the smile while he unbuckled, unzipped, and pushed his pants and underwear down over his hips. If she’d thought what was under his shirt was stunning, what was under his pants was better. His cock was absolutely magnificent. It stood against his stomach long and thick, resting on his well defined abs. Sam caught her looking at him yet again, and his smile got bigger. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

Sam lowered himself from his kneeling position until he was sitting on the floor. He pushed his pants farther down his legs to get them out of the way. He extended a hand to her, and she took it. He settled her on his lap. Olivia wrapped her legs around him. He looked at her with those beautiful eyes that combined colors in so many ways that seemed to change from moment to moment. “Do you want to go through with this? It’s not too late to say no.”

She squeezed her thighs into his sides. She was imagining the feel of his cock stretching her open. From the looks of him, it was going to be a tight fit. “I absolutely want to go through with this.” 

That was all he needed to hear. He took a condom from the wallet in the pants pooling around his ankles and rolled it down over his length. Sam put his hands on each side of her waist and lifted her up, lining her up over the tip of his cock.

When he started to lower her down onto his shaft, she rolled her head forward. Her hair brushed over his shoulder as he continued to slowly ease her down onto his length, giving her time to adjust to his size. Once he was fully seated inside her, he began to roll his hips. Oliva imitated his movements, rolling her hips with the same rhythm. 

She raised her head because she wanted to see into Sam’s eyes while he thrust up into her. There was something in the depths of them that she couldn’t quite define, something she wanted to figure out, something she wanted to understand and know better. He covered her mouth and kissed her with an intensity she could feel through her entire body.

His tongue was circling hers, tasting her, when she came again. Olivia clenched around him and her body spasmed in waves as her orgasm crested and blended into another. Sam kissed her all the way through it. She went limp in his arms, and he kept moving. 

She could feel his hands on her and the warmth of the flame from the fire on her skin. She could feel the way his cock throbbed, still buried deep inside her, and she could taste him. He pulled away from her mouth and buried his face in her neck when he came.  

“Olivia.” He said her name once, just the one word, and it struck her to the core. Olivia regretted that she couldn’t feel his hot release painting her insides. It felt like some part of him was being held back from her, and she wanted it all. 

Whatever magic she’d felt hearing the sound of her name on his lips dissipated with the reality of Sam pulling himself from her body and carefully removing the condom. He pulled his pants back up before walking over to his desk to dispose of it in the wastebasket there. Olivia imagined it wouldn’t be the first time the cleaning service found one of those in his trash. 

What was she doing? She just screwed the boss’ son in his office. She was a total cliche. Her mind told her she should feel like a slut, but she didn’t. She refused to be ashamed of what she’d done. The sex had been mind blowing; her body had never responded to any man that way. Sam had stirred something in her physically, but it had gone beyond that. It was something she would examine later and try to define, but now all she could think of was escaping the overwhelming thoughts and feelings consuming her. Hastily, she grabbed her clothes and was in the process of putting them back on when Sam returned. 

He took her hand and charmed her with his boyish dimples and his eyes that had turned a soft gray like the color of a sky lit by a silvery moon. Still, it was his words that got to her the most. “Hey, don’t be in such a hurry to leave; you’re going to make me feel cheap.” He was flirting with her. Guys like him moved smoothly through situations like this as though they were born to it, and in a way they were. Still, part of her hoped he was being at least a little sincere.

Sam hadn’t let go of her hand. “Stay with me. We can watch the fire, enjoy the lights on the Christmas tree.” This was a fling, right? It was a one night stand with the irresistible guy at work. “Plan our trip to Texas.” What did he just say? “A six pack is just an introduction to the business. What you need is to see the brewery.” 

Sam sat down on the sofa, and Olivia sank down beside him. She lowered her guard a little and let some of the bliss she was feeling wash over her. The ambience created by the light from the tree and the fire enhanced her mood; both the light and her mood seemed somehow softer now.

“We can take the company jet. Ring in the new year in Austin.” Listening to him, Olivia had a most happy thought. Maybe this wasn’t a one night thing after all. 

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @onethirstyunicorn @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @heycasbutt @jules-1999 @mrsdeannafuckingwinchester @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @mrs-meghan-winchester @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @lonewolf471 @sea040561 @dawnie1988 @volleyballer519 @outcastedangel @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @winchesterxfamilybusiness @deansotherotherblog

Sam/Jared: @girl-next-door-writes @stunudo @feelmyroarrrr @sammit-janet​ @idabbleincrazy​ @evansrogerskitten​ @focusonspn​ @autumninavonlea​ @spnxbsessed​ @durinsbride​ @deansyahtzee​ @waywardnerd67​ @fullmooner​ @julesthequirky​

[impala-dreamer]

Wash Me Away

SPN FanFIc

~Being lost in Purgatory with Dean takes a toll on Y/N, but a night of rest might do them both good.~

Dean x Reader, Benny, Mentions of Castiel

2,729 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Purgatory Smangst!. Danger. Romance. Rain.

A/N: This is for my Purgatory!Dean square on @spnkinkbingo​​ 2020 and for my darling @covered-byroses​​ who wanted something about the rain. Hope you all enjoy!

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It had been weeks, a month, maybe, since they woke up there. A month of running for their lives, every second on edge, wondering if they’d be fast enough to escape the next monster, strong enough to fend off the next attack. And there was always another attack.

They got a few hours here and there to rest, but they were on the move now, day and night.

Funny how Purgatory could sustain even a human for days without sleep or food. Perhaps the universe was coddling them, keeping them alive just enough so they could find the portal and escape. Or maybe they were just getting used to it, adapting to their new existence.

Dean was harder here, she noticed. He never laughed anymore, never teased her like he used to. She understood, of course. There was no reason to laugh anymore, not with a thousand fangs aimed at their throats.

Y/N tried to keep some hope, tried to show him a smile whenever he needed one, but the darkness was eating at her too. Hell would probably be nicer, she thought, but then again, she wouldn’t be with Dean.

Maybe he was what was keeping her going. Surely, she’d have given up that first night, succumbed to the monsters in and around her after Castiel abandoned them. But, Dean was there to grab her hand and pull, forcing her feet to run, demanding she keep her shit together. And she did. For him.

It helped that they had a mission. They weren’t just trying to get out, they were trying to find Cas. Some days, trudging behind Dean and Benny, Y/N had to bat away the idea that Cas was already dead. If it took three of them working together to get through the minefield that was Purgatory, how could one lone angel survive? She didn’t like to think like that, but it was hard some days.

Then there was Benny. Part of her was absolutely disgusted that Dean had agreed to let him tag along, to make such a deal with a monster. He was a vampire for fuck’s sake, but she understood, in the end. Dean couldn’t keep her safe and look for Cas at the same time. Still, sometimes she felt Benny’s eyes digging into her and it chilled her Hunter’s spirit to the bones.

There were times when they could go no further, when even Dean’s strong legs started to give out. They would sit beneath a tree or hide behind some strangely arranged pile of boulders. Shelter was sparse, so when they happened upon the cave that night, Y/N nearly cried.

Dean didn’t even protest when Benny insisted they both rest inside for the night while he went on ahead. The area around the cave was clear, and Benny promised to patrol the perimeter while they slept.

It was cold and quiet.

The mouth of the cave was about six feet wide and four feet tall, but it opened up into a room big enough to get comfortable in. Dean took the left side, stretching out his long legs as he sat against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Y/N lay down opposite him, hands like a sorry pillow behind her head as she stared up at the rocky ceiling. There was a bit of pale yellow light coming in from outside, so it wasn’t too dark, and the cracks in the stone gave her something to count and focus on while Sleep ran away.

“This isn’t too bad,” she said, mostly to herself. “Ya know, if we don’t find Cas, we can just hole up here. Maybe excavate a little bit, add some bedrooms, a little kitchen in the back. Could be nice.”

“We’re going to find him,” Dean grumbled, his eyes still closed, lips barely moving. “I’m not living in a cave in this hell hole world.”

Y/N rolled onto her side, head braced by one hand. “Well, technically, this ain’t a hell hole. It’s a purg-hole. That’s a thing I just made up, but anyway.” She held her smile, biting her tongue between her front teeth, but Dean didn’t share her laugh. “Come on, dude,” she said, slapping his boot. “Smile.”

“No.”

“You’ll feel better if you do.”

Dean opened one eye and glared. “How?”

“Because I’ll feel better and that always makes you happy.”

She smiled sadly and he gave in, offering a meager smile that barely lifted his lips.

“See? Thank you.”

She left him alone then, rolling onto her stomach, cursing the world for not packing a sleeping bag before getting blown into another dimension. She should have had her go-bag with her. Would have made things a lot easier.

Thoughts swirled, the silence wrapped around her, and sleep finally came, closing her eyes before she even felt its approach.

She woke to rain.

A faint mist pushed in by a wayward breeze through the cave mouth kissed her eyelids and Y/N stirred, lifting her cheek from her hand and blinking into the dark. Raindrops danced a few feet away, collecting in shallow puddles where the rocks failed to meet in perfect seems.

Suddenly, it was all she ever wanted; the rain, the cool air, the heavy clouds. Her soul ached for it.

“Dean.”

She called to him gently but he was already awake, emerald eyes turned towards the same raindrops.

“Yeah, Y/N/N?” His voice was softer now, calmer after his rest.

“Come with me,” she whispered, lifting up onto her hands and knees.

Dean caught her left wrist as she tried to crawl out of the cave, shaking his head when she turned back, curious. “Don’t. You don’t know what’s out there.”

She sighed. “Benny’s walking the treeline. All that’s out there right now is rain. And I want to feel it on my face, Dean. It’s been too long.”

Her eyes misted over and something inside him gave in. His fingers released their hold on her wrist and he rolled to his knees, following her out.

They didn’t go too far; just a few yards away from the cave, but it felt like miles.

Y/N closed her eyes as she lifted her arms and turned her face to the sky. There was no Heaven up there, not anymore, not where they were, but for a moment, she felt it. Each drop of rain stung her face but she loved every one. It felt good, clean.

The water seeped into their clothes and soaked their hair, rinsing them clean of days of mud and muck. The dried blood on Dean’s cheek faded away and he lifted his hands, scrubbing them down his face with a sigh of relief.

“This feels amazing,” he said, finally cracking a real smile. He closed his eyes and let himself breathe; the first moment’s peace in a long while.

“Yeah.” Y/N’s voice broke, sadness creeping in. She dropped her head and the downpour massaged her neck with pounding pellets that trickled down under her collar. “It is.”

Dean heard her tone change and turned towards her, watching her shiver but not care to move. “What’s wrong?” His voice was tender as he came close; he was afraid for her, worried.

Y/N licked the water from her lips and looked up at him. Her eyes were as wet as anything else, but the reason wasn’t the same. “I don’t know.” She offered a lying smile but he wouldn’t have it.

“Tell me.”

His hand found her cheek.

She sighed deeply, shoulders dropping. “I just wanna stay here and let the rain wash me away.”

Dean pursed his lips, concerned dimples popping as he brushed the water from her cheek with his thumb. “Why?”

Y/N shook her head gently as she spoke. “It’s too much; I’m not gonna make it out here. You know that, Dean.” She took a breath as thunder rolled above them. “You should leave me in the cave. Go find Cas. Go get out of here.”

Dean’s chest burned at the thought; guilt stabbing his heart. “No.” He grabbed her face in both hands, holding her to him, forcing her to meet his eye. “I’m not leaving you, ever.”

Y/N tried to pull away but he refused, keeping her locked there, head in his hands, alone in the rain. He stared her down, hard, unblinking even as water crept into his eyes. His left eyelid trembled and she laughed.

“You’re an idiot,” she yelled, voice weak over the pouring rain.  

Dean smiled and bent his lips to hers. “Yeah, I am.”

They stood there in the downpour, not a single care for the first time in weeks. They kissed until the air between them was too thin, until their mouths filled with rain. Y/N tugged at the lapels of his leather coat and Dean’s hand slid up under her layers to lay on the small of her back. Any time she left for a deep breath, he pulled her closer, that big hand urging her to stay.

“We should go,” she managed after a long while, her breath heavy on his lips.

His eyes fell closed and his mouth reached for her. “No. Please.”

Y/N wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and moaned as he kissed his way across her jaw. “Take me back inside,” she whispered. “I need you.”

He let her go quickly, grabbing her hand as her boots sank into the mud. Together they climbed through the storm back up to the cave, desperate to settle down inside.

They stripped in a fury, no ceremony or tender hands. It was cold suddenly, and the dampness of their clothes was seeping in deep.

There was just enough room for him to stand and Dean used all of it, rushing to her and scooping Y/N into his arms once the sodden fabrics were kicked aside. They should have had a fire, but all they had was each other.

He kissed her harder, passion and desperation driving his tongue roughly between her lips. Y/N held on to his shoulders as he moved her where he wanted, absently walking her back until the stone shocked her skin.

“Fuck, that’s cold,” she laughed, turning her face from Dean’s kiss.

His hands slid around her, long fingers splayed out like a barrier over her back. “I’ll warm you up,” he growled, nipping at her pulse.

His kisses traveled downwards and Y/N ran her hands through his wet hair, sighing blissfully as his mouth closed around her nipple. “That’s pretty good…”

Dropping to his knees, Dean looked up with a smirk. “Oh wait,” he teased, sliding his right hand upwards to part her thighs. “There’s more.”

“I’m sure there is-” A gasp stole her words as Dean’s lips pressed against her pussy. She shuddered and sank down against the cavern wall, opening up for his tongue. He rolled it slowly across her clit, sending every bit of blood and thought straight down to it. She throbbed almost painfully as he fucked her open, fingers and lips working together to draw heavy moans from the back of her throat. She held on, fingers in his hair, hands tugging on his ears.

It had been too long since she had felt him, forever since she’d even had a thought to spare on pleasure, and her nerves were pulsing. Dean lifted her right leg to hook over his shoulder and the new angle gave his tongue more access than Y/N could stand. She shook almost violently as she came, her tight-lipped cry echoing down into the depths of their cave.

Dean pulled away, face shining with her slick juices, lips red and swollen. “Warm enough?” he asked, slowly drawing his tongue across his bottom lip, savoring her taste.

It took a moment for her brain to connect to her mouth, and Y/N took a deep breath as she dropped her leg from his shoulder. “Not quite.” She fell down to his level, knees crashing too hard into the rocky floor. “My turn.”

Her smile was delicious and Dean kissed her hard, humming into her as she ran her hands down his smooth chest.

“That’s nice,” he laughed, breath hitching as she tugged at his nipples. “Fuck.”

He was already hard between them and Y/N took advantage, wrapping one hand firmly around his cock while the other curled around the nape of his neck. She sucked at his lips while she stroked him, watching as the tension and worry melted from his face. Lines faded, his forehead relaxed, shoulders slumped as she worked him gently. When he wobbled, unsteady on his knees, she let him go, crawling over to the pile of damp clothes.

Dean watched in a daze as she lay down, opening her arms to him.

“Come ‘ere.”

He fell down against her, heavy body crushing her beautifully into the stone. He pushed between her legs; thick hips keeping her warm against the cool wind. “Fuck, I missed this.”

His whisper tickled her breast and Y/N cupped his jaw, urging him to look up. “Me too.” She traced his cheek with her fingertips, lightly skimming the slowly healing cut on his cheekbone.

“How?” she asked, suddenly melancholy once more.

Dean rolled against her, his cock pushing up across her slit. “How what?”  

Her body tensed as he nudged at her clit, forcing her eyes to close and her heart to race. “How- how are we even here right now?” She tried to focus on his weight, the heat of him pushing into her, but it was easier to let the pounding rain take her mind away. “Are we dead? Are our bodies back on Earth in pieces all over that lab? I don’t-”

Dean pulled away and locked his arms aside her head. “Do you really want to worry about that right now?”

Y/N let his voice pull her back and she stared into his eyes. He was just as worried, just as sad as she, but Dean was living in the moment. That was all he could handle.

“No,” she said finally, giving him a tiny smile as she cupped his face and pulled him down to her. She kissed away the worry and nibbled at his pain, afraid to let him go even as he pushed up on his knees to bury his thick cock deep inside of her.

They lay in the mouth of the cave, Y/N’s head resting on Dean’s arm like a pillow. He curled himself around her, knees behind hers, nose tucked in the crook of her neck.

The rain had eased to a drizzle and Y/N followed an errant droplet as it raced down the rocks. When it added itself to the puddle by her hand, she pulled it back and fit her hand inside Dean’s.

“You think he’s really out there still?” she asked on the end of a sigh.

“Yeah, I do.” Dean left a final kiss on her shoulder before rolling away. “I have to.”

“We could just leave now, you know.”

Dean pulled his arm away and sat up, reaching for his jeans.

“I love Cas, don’t get me wrong,” she explained, staring at the faint track the raindrop had left on the rocks. “I just...I’m not…”

“Hey.” Dean’s gruff tone pulled her out of the fog and she turned to him. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, you hear me?”

Y/N nodded but swallowed hard, fear heavy in her chest. “Yeah.”

“I mean it.” He grabbed her hand between both of his and squeezed. “I have two goals in my life right now. Find Cas and get us all home. I’m not giving up on either and neither are you.”

Emerald shone bright, even in the dark, and Y/N let herself believe him.

Dean dipped his chin to catch her gaze. “OK?”

Y/N smiled softly. “OK.”

He kissed her knuckles quickly and then let her go, pulling the wet denim up to his knees. “Good. Now, let’s get dressed before Benny gets back. I don’t need no bloodsucker peepin’ on my girl.” He winked and she rolled her eyes.

“You’re an idiot,” she laughed.

Dean licked his lips and shrugged. “I think we’ve already established that.”

2020 Forever Tags:

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[squirrel-moose-winchester]

Rings

Title: Rings

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1957

Square Filled: Fake Marriage

Summary: “What happens when the right guy comes along, see’s that ring, and high tails it out here?” – “I never thought about that. I guess, if he’s the right one, he’d stick around long enough to find out that the ring is a fake.”

Warnings: Fluff, Dash of Angst, Douche Bags, Rifle, Threats, Drunk Guys, Gross Guys, Some Explicit Language, and Lying…

Written for @spndeanbingo​

Disclaimer: Not my gif.

A/N: I am really proud of this fic. I feel like it’s not exactly what you’d expect from the Fake Marriage trope. At least, that’s what I think. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! This last fic concludes my SPN Dean Bingo 2019 Card! I made it just in time!! Happy Reading!! xx

The day had been a total shit show, and all you wanted to do was to have a seat at a bar, have someone else make your drinks, and get hammered! Was that too much to ask? Apparently it was. You’d only been in the, over twenty-one, establishment for merely ten minutes and there had already been one guy that had the nerve to interrupt your “me time,” and now thirty minutes in, another dumbass was trying to talk you up.

“Hey there good lookin’. You seem a little stressed. Can I buy you another drink?”

“Sorry pal, I just want to be alone,” you told him, not bothering to give him a second glance (not that you gave him a first one.)

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t be shy, let me just one drink?” He persisted.

“Seriously, I’m good right now,” you tried to remain calm.

“Alright, but if you change your mind, my friends and I are sitting by the juke box. Feel free to join us at any time,” he whispered, as if he thought he was being seductive. It was quite the opposite. His breath was rancid, and the stench coming off of him was just as criminal. You wondered how he could live with himself smelling like roadkill!

“Thanks,” was your only reply, letting out a heavy sigh when he left.

“Some guys just can’t take a hint,” the bartender tsked, her hands placed on the bar top in front of you. You looked up to meet the older lady looking past you, most likely at the group of guys that pig was hanging around with. “Mmm,” she hummed, a look of disgust in her face, “those fellas are one repulsive bunch aren’t they?”

A small smile cracked on your lips, glad that someone was on your side, not that anyone was against you to begin with, but still… this woman just made you feel a little better and you appreciated it.

“You didn’t smell him…” you murmured, slightly shaking your head side to side with trauma.

The older woman laughed. “The name is Ellen. I’m the owner of this bar.”

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you come in hear before,” the older woman stated. “And if you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look like the type to come into dive bars. What happened?”

Letting out a defeated sigh, you met her chocolate brown eyes. “Figured going to a bar was a thing to do when shit hits the fan and you just want to drink it all away. I mean, I see it happen all the time in the movies, so I thought… why not? There’s a first time for everything. The only thing that’s different is that the main character in the movies don’t have to deal with drunk gross guys. The girl usually meets that cool mysterious strangers in a suit or leather jacket.”

Ellen laughed at your perception on bars. “Sweetheart, real life ain’t like the movies. Real life actually sucks. So… I have to asked,” she started, “why are you here instead of with your man?”

You looked up at her confused. “Man?”

“The ring. Your husband,” Ellen clarified.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “Oh… that.”

“Yeah, that. What’s the deal? You don’t seem very happy.”

“Honestly, I don’t have a husband. I got out of a nasty relationship a while back and have sworn off men for the time being,” you confessed. “This is fake ring I bought off of Amazon. I wear it to ward off guys, which apparently doesn’t work on idiots.”

“What happens when the right guy comes along, see’s that ring, and high tails it out here?” Ellen question, the notion not once crossing your mind.

“I never thought about that. I guess, if he’s the right one, he’d stick around long enough to find out that the ring is a fake,” you shrugged, hoping your answer made enough sense to her, and you.

“Well, I wish you good luck kiddo,” Ellen smiled before having to help another customer.

Through the night, you got to know more about Ellen and the bar. The bar had been her late husband’s dream, but he unfortunately passed before he could even begin to see it’s possibility. In tribute and remembrance of the love of her life, she bought the bar, fixed it up, threw their name in front of it, “Harvelle’s”,  in blinking lights, and eventually it also became her dream. She and her daughter ran the joint, along with a few employees.

You were working on your third drink of the night, trading in your whiskey for a fruity cocktail drink this time – a strawberry daiquiri. Honestly. You were a little surprised that a small town dive bar had it on the menu, but you didn’t spend too much time thinking about it. You just wanted to enjoy the slight buzz you were feeling.

As you sipped your cocktail, a large figure planted themselves beside your left, but you didn’t bother to acknowledge their presence. All you hoped was that whoever it was, would leave you alone. The only company worthy of your attention was Ellen, your new found friend.

“Hi, what’s your name?”

You rolled your eyes at the interruption. “Sorry, I’m married,” you lifted your hand, exposing the evident ring on your finger.

“I don’t mind,” his hand closed over yours.

At that moment, you snapped, snatching your hand from his grasp and shooting him a death glare. “What kind of woman do you take me for?” You asked with offense. The man next to you was burly, with a beard like a homeless man, shirt wrinkled and most likely unwashed, and his hair was greasy. Why did you always attract the uncivilized ones?

“The kind of woman that likes to have fun,” he wiggled his eyebrows, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Please, just leave me alone,” you told him, bringing your attention back to your drink.

“Oh, c’mon. Let me show you a good time. You might be surprised at how much you’ll like it… and I know you’ll really like it,” he cooed, his tone over suggestive.

“Seriously, back—”

Before you could finish, another man showed up. “Didn’t you hear the woman say she’s married?” The new stranger hissed, slamming his left hand down on the bar top, a gold band around his ring finger. “Now, I suggest you back off of my wife before you get yourself hurt.”

You were shocked to say the least. This stranger was different than all the men you’ve come across the whole day. From your pig of a boss, to the scumbags littering the bar, this man was something else. He was dangerously handsome, scruff littering his jaw, emerald eyes hard and demanding, and god… he smelled good… and looked good. His expansive chest and shoulders clad in red plaid, which was definitely his color.

Wow.

“You think I’m afraid of you?” The disgusting man barked, standing to his full height. He was much larger than the handsome stranger, who didn’t seem to be scared at all. “You think a small fella like you can take me?”

It was true. The guy was much bigger than Mr. Smell’s so Delicious. He towered him several inches.

“I’ve taken down bigger,” Mr. Gorgeous Green Eyes scoffed unfazed.

The gross guy took a step forward and Sex God in Plaid didn’t flinch one bit. If you were being honest with yourself, you found yourself getting a little turned on.

“Alright, cut the crap,” Ellen came barreling in, a rifle in hand. “This is my bar and I will not condone to any sort of rough housing.” The asshole took a step back, but your Knight in Shining Armor didn’t seem at all worried. “You…” Ellen’s spoke to the creep, “… you and your buddies has harassed this poor girl long enough. Pay your bill and get out, before I shoot every single one of you between the legs. Her husband is here and she no longer needs your company.”

The beautiful stranger draped his arm over your shoulder protectively, staring down the creeper. “You heard the nice the lady, get out!” He growled.

The man didn’t hesitate to hightail it back to his group of friends. You watched as they quickly pulled out several bills before rushing out of the establishment. Your jaw dropped in surprise, thoroughly impressed at how both Ellen and Mysterious Perfection handled the situation.

“You alright?” the deepness of his voice vibrated through your body, causing heat to crawl up your cheeks.

“Uh.. y-yeah. I mean, yes. Thank you,” you offered a small smile. God, he was so handsome it almost made it hard to even look at him.

“Y/N, this is my nephew Dean. Dean this is my new friend Y/N. Take care of her for the night would’ya? She thinks life is supposed to be like those romantic comedy movies,” she teased, sending you a wink.

The action did nothing to settle your nerves or alleviate the tension raking over your body. In fact, she made it worse.

“A rom-com chick? Oh, no,” he laughed. “Should I be worried?”

The playful tone in his voice surprisingly put you at ease. “What’s wrong with rom-coms?” You scoffed, nudging his arm off your shoulder. “Don’t you have a wife you should be attending to?”

“A wife? Nah. I’m a free man, Y/N,” Dean gloated, taking a seat beside you. If he didn’t just save you from that douche, you would think he was an arrogant ass, but something about him told you that he was a genuinely good guy. Plus, if Ellen was entrusting him to take care of you, he must be a good man.

“Then what’s with the ring?”

Dean chuckled. “It belonged to my father. He passed away to cancer a few years back,” he confessed.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you suddenly became timid.

“He wasn’t the greatest father, but he did his best you know? Besides, if it wasn’t for him, me and my brother wouldn’t be the people we are today. Little brother is a lawyer and I’ve got my own chain of auto shops around the country.”

“Wow. Impressive.”

“I guess. All that matters is that I’m pretty happy, you know? Anyways, what’s your story? Where’s your husband?”

This time, it was your turn to laugh. “Not married either. I swore of men a couple of years ago after I was humiliatingly dumped from my ex-fiancé. He cheated on me with his boss. When I called our relationship off, he took the ring and everything else. All he left me was my car and what ever was left of my dignity… which let me tell you, isn’t much.”

“Fuck. That’s harsh. What a douche bag!”

“Tell me about it,” you puffed out in defeat.

“Ah, screw him. You deserve better anyway. A tough girl like you don’t need a weak man like him.”

“Oh yeah? And what kind of man do I deserve?” you taunted, giving him your full attention.

A sly smirk stretched across his face. “Let me take you out tomorrow and I’ll show you.”

“Smooth,” you giggled, and Dean was laughing too.

“I’m serious. Let me take you out. You won’t regret it.”

You looked up at him with a wide smile on your face. “I have the utmost confidence that I won’t.”

Dean grinned. “Looks like we got ourselves a hot date!”

Again, you couldn’t control the laughter bubbling inside of you. He was a dork and you found it being far more attractive than you expected. You were looking forwards to that date.

Looks like it was time for the ring to come off.

--

A/N: My SPN Dean Bingo 2019 Card is officially complete! YAY! I hope you all liked the fics, and I hope you liked this last installment! If you did, please like and reblog! Leave some feedback! I would really appreciate it! Stay beautiful everyone! xx

[banshee1013]

Fic - Sticky Sweet

Yesterday was the #DeanCasWedding, which of course means today must be - the #DeanCasHoneymoon! Written for the SPN Family Discord Valentine’s Exchange, this was not necessarily written as a honeymoon fic, but it works! Enjoy! 

Title: Sticky Sweet Rating: Teen Tags: Castiel/Dean, Camping, Tooth-rotting Fluff (literally) Word Count: 1768 Summary:  Dean has been introducing a newly-human Cas to human things - the latest: camping under the stars, complete with tent, campfire, and s'mores -- but Castiel has a surprise for Dean as well. AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29422437

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Dean holds on to the thin thread of his patience as he threads the tent pole through the seemingly unending number of loops running over the top side of the tent, grumbling to himself as he has to back the pole out due to missing a loop. Finally, the tent poles are in place and he uses the ties at the pinnacle of the tent to anchor where the tent poles meet and then stands, dusting off his knees. Starting at one corner, he pops the pole end into the tent foot, making his way around to all four corners until the tent is finally upright. He stands back and crosses his arms to admire his work, then looks around for Cas and smiles fondly when he sees him.

While he was pitching the tent (the thought makes him grin, of course), he had sent Cas out to find some firewood and to build the fire pit, handing him a small evac tool (basically a mini-shovel) to clear the ground where the pit would go and instructing him to find some nice round river rock from the small creek nearby to line it with. Cas had done spectacularly, a substantial stack of various sizes of tree branches and a three-ish foot circle of ground cleared nearby. Currently, the former angel was crouched on the ground next to a small pile of oval-shaped stones and was placing them in a ring around the cleared space with the precision one usually associates with engineering a spacecraft.

“Hey, Cas, that looks great! Can you come help me with the tent cover please?”

Cas looks up from his ring of stones, smiles and rises to his feet; but his brows pinch together as he looks past Dean and at the tent. “That does not look very secure, Dean. Are you sure it will remain stationary?”

Dean laughs and pulls Cas in for a hug as he approaches, then turns him around to face the tent, keeping an arm over his shoulder. “When we put the top cover on — that keeps moisture from rain and morning dew from getting inside — we’ll anchor it with those tent spikes,” he motions toward the four silver rods lying at each corner of the tent. “But I need help getting the cover on evenly.” Cas nods and heads toward the tent, Dean following and he can’t help but admire the view.

Dean has finally managed to rid him of the ubiquitous trench coat, suit, and tie, replacing it with a royal blue hoodie the color of his eyes and dark grey Henley, the sleeves pulled up to expose muscular forearms; and dark blue jeans that hug his surprisingly slender form — and does wonders for Dean’s libido. The fact that the trench coat and ill-fitting suit hid his drool-worthy body all this time is a travesty that Dean continually laments — but is glad to have rectified, especially as the jeans draw tight around those remarkably muscular thighs when Cas crouches down to inspect the tent spikes.

The sun is just starting to dip behind the trees and just then a shaft of light streaks through the branches, backlighting Cas in yellow-orange light and setting his dark brown head glowing like a halo, and Dean gasps at the sight. He’s absolutely gorgeous, how have I been so blind? Cas glances over his shoulder, head tilted and a puzzled look in his eye, the same shaft of light striking and turning them into blue fire.

Dean suddenly realizes he’s the luckiest sonuvabitch alive.

“Dean? Are you alright?”

Blinking, Dean shakes his head and smiles, moving toward the tent. “Yeah… I’m great, Cas.” Kneeling down next to him, he takes Cas’ face in both hands and kisses him, soft and chaste… but the next thing Dean knows, he’s on his back with Cas over him, groaning against his lips as he deepens the kiss.

Cas finally breaks the kiss to gasp for air, and even though it’s literally the last thing he wants to do, Dean gently pushes him back. “We’re losing the light, sweetheart, and we gotta finish putting this tent together,” he gasps. Cas sighs and rises to his feet, offering a hand down to pull Dean up. They quickly get to work and in no time, the tent cover is pulled over the top and the tent staked down securely.

“Cas, can you finish with the campfire? I’m gonna get the rest of our camping stuff.” Dean rushes to the car to grab their sleeping bags, cooler, and Coleman grill — no way was he going to attempt to cook an actual meal over a campfire — while Cas finishes placing the stones around the cleared area and setting some of the firewood he’d gathered inside; smaller sticks on the bottom and tenting some of the larger pieces over the top. By the time Dean has returned and placed their sleeping bags inside the tent, Cas already has a nice fire going. Dean smiles as he sees Cas perched on the smooth log he’d managed to find, placed in front of the fire for them to sit on, and digs into the bag next to the cooler for the surprise he brought.

He joins Cas at the fire with his treasures in hand — two long metal sticks with handles, a bag of jumbo marshmallows, a box of graham crackers, and several fun-sized Hersey chocolates. “Ever had s’mores, Cas?” he asks, setting the items down by the log before taking a seat next to him.

Cas leans over and glances at the items by Dean’s feet with that adorable head-tilt Dean loves. “I don’t believe I have.”

Dean smiles and leans over to kiss him quickly. “Well, then, you’re in for a treat.” He tears open the bag of marshmallows and plucks one out, spearing it on the stick and holding it over the fire. “The trick is to get it close enough to the fire for it to melt and char a little. Don’t let it stay still or it’ll burn and that’s no good.” He demonstrates, twirling the marshmallow over the fire until it’s golden brown.

“Now, grab one of the graham crackers, snap it in half, and unwrap the chocolate.” Cas follows his instructions as Dean pulls the marshmallow from the fire. “Okay, place the chocolate on one half of the graham cracker…” Cas does and Dean maneuvers the marshmallow over the chocolate and cracker, “... now pinch it with the other half of the graham cracker.” With his free hand, Dean reaches over to cover Cas’ hand with his own to show him how to squish the marshmallow between the graham crackers and chocolate and pulls the stick free.

Cas looks at the s’more in his hand, turning it this way and that as chocolate melted by the hot marshmallow begins to drip. “Quick! Eat it!” Dean nudges his hand toward his mouth and Cas takes a big bite, the gooey marshmallow and melted chocolate squirting out from the other side and onto his hand.

Cas finishes the bite, but then frowns. “It’s very good,” he comments, the frown intensifying as the chocolate and marshmallow start to slide down his arm, “but it’s also very messy.”

Dean is not about to miss this opportunity, grabbing Cas’ arm and running his tongue up it, lapping up the melted marshmallow and chocolate, his eyes never leaving Cas’ face and feeling the flush crawl up his neck at the heat reflected there — and not just from the proximity of the fire. Taking the remaining portion of the s’more into his mouth, he sucks the remaining marshmallow and chocolate from Cas’ fingers, running his tongue in and around them and taking immense pleasure in the way Cas’ breath hitches.

No sooner has he finished swallowing the bite than Cas has him on his back in front of the log, mouth on his and licking the sweetness from it; his body warm and firm against his, and Dean can’t stifle the moan that follows.

Cas finally pulls back, his cheeks flushed and breath harsh. “I would like another, please.”

Awhile later, sated on s’mores and kisses, Dean leans against the log between Cas’ knees, head resting on a thick thigh as Cas runs a (thankfully clean due to the wet wipes Dean had the foresight to pack) hand through his hair. His eyes are getting heavy and the last thing he wants to do right now is move.

Cas has other ideas.

“Dean, I need to get up.” Dean groans and grips his thigh in protest, but Cas is insistent. “I won’t be long, I promise.” With an exaggerated sigh, Dean releases his grip on Cas’ thigh and lifts his head, and Cas rises from the log and disappears into the darkness behind them. He hears the trunk of the Impala open, a rustling of fabric, and the trunk shutting again; then Cas is back. Dean watches as he lays a blanket on the ground on the other side of the fire opposite the log. Sitting on the blanket with his legs spread, he pats the area in between.

Dean gets the message. He crawls around the fire to where Cas sits and nestles himself in the proffered area on the blanket, his back to Cas’ broad chest, and leans back, closing his eyes. From behind them, he feels Cas’ arms reach behind on either side, pulling something up over his shoulders.

“The thing I miss the most since losing my Grace,” he says quietly, haltingly, “is holding you with my wings.” He sighs, and Dean hears more rustling, this time sounding like… feathers? The rustling pulls around them, followed by encompassing warmth; and Dean opens his eyes gasping at the sight of black feathers wrapped around him, brilliant blues and greens and scattered flecks of gold shining in the firelight.

“Even though they were not corporeal, and not technically consisting of cormorant feathers, I knew you could still feel them — and this was the best representation I could find,” he said as he spreads the blanket of feathers fully around them, pulling Dean close and laying his cheek against the crown of his head.

Dean’s breath catches in his throat as he’s suffused in the warmth of the feathers and Cas’ body. His hands grasp Cas’ wrists and pulls him tighter.

“This is amazing,” he says, his voice barely audible above the crackling of the fire. “I love you so much, Cas.”

He feels Cas’ smile against the top of his head, then lips pressed against his temple. “And I, you, Dean.”

[jerkbitchidjitassbutt]

What If I Told You (10)

Characters: Jensen x Reader; Jared Padalecki; SPN Cast members at times.

Summary: You and Jensen have been the closest of friends for years after meeting on the set of SPN, but what will happen when you and Jensen have a kissing scene?

Series Masterlist / My Masterlist

Series Warnings: Cursing; divorce; break up; angst-ish at times, but mostly fluff. For this chapter: teeth rotting fluff.

I consider this an AU, as Jensen is divorced from an unnamed ex in this fic. This is completely a work of fiction, and I wouldn’t want his reality to be any different, this is purely for entertainment.

A/n: As @our-jensen-ackles-love​ said, “Final-fucking-ly”. 2700ish words - its a longer one.

Peering at your reflection in the antique mirror situated in the corner of your bedroom, you adjusted the hem of your dress repeatedly, nerves making your fingers twinge with anticipation. Clint had dropped you off with a promise of returning in a little over an hour, allowing you time to change and ready yourself for Rob’s party this evening. It was being held at an upscale tavern in downtown Vancouver to celebrate his birthday and return to Supernatural after a brief hiatus. Truth be told, Rob would use any excuse to throw a party, but you never minded in the slightest. The majority of the crew and cast would be there, including those who were visiting or locals to the area.

Your curls were still intact from your scenes filmed earlier in the day and it only took a small amount of convincing from you to pursue the makeup ladies to touch up what they had done instead of removing it all as they would have on any other day. You rummaged through your walk-in closet, tossing article after article of clothing until you decided on an above-the-knee navy dress; it was covered in lace, had sleeves to the elbow, and a tantalizingly low-cut v-shaped neckline. You knew everyone would be dressed to the nines and had already conversed with some of the other people from set to determine that a dress was appropriate attire. Pairing it with a pair of nude heels and clutch, it actually took you very little time to get ready, which was not only surprising, but slightly torturous. It meant you had too much time to stand and fidget, as you were doing now.

Tonight was the night you’d hopefully find out if your best friend felt the same for you as you did for him—or your friendship would never be the same. Even if the last few days hadn’t been the scenario you’d played them out to be in your mind, you knew you’d never be able to go back to thinking of him as only your friend. Pretending before was quite tranquil, a simple ignoring of feelings and thoughts, but now that those same feelings had come roaring to the surface it would be impossible to return them to their composed state.

Tonight would more than likely determine the rest of your life, in one way or another. The thought both terrified and excited you, making you want to cry and scream at the same time, but thankfully Clint saved you with a message saying he was on his way back to your apartment after changing himself. Draping yourself in your cream colored pea-coat, you retreated out your front door to meet him.

Clint was dressed in an all-black suit and black shirt, accentuating the silver in his beard.

“You clean up nice, Clint, as always.” You posed with a smile as you buckled into the passenger seat.

“So do you, kitten.” The nickname was special, and not something he gave to everyone he lended his services to. At first you found it a bit patronizing but grew to understand it as a term of endearment and now loved it.

Driving through the darkening streets lightened by the glows of downtown, you twiddled with the zipper of your clutch and felt your heart hammering in your chest.

“Y/n…” Clint’s voice boomed above the soft music playing through the speakers, “Calm down honey. You only do that when you’re nervous… and I don’t think you have anything to be nervous about.” He reassured knowingly. A bit too knowingly. Taking in your raised eyebrow, he offered quietly, “What’s said between bodyguards stays between bodyguards.”

His eyes focused back on the road and his shoulders stiffened, though a small smile played at the corners of his lips, making you smile in return.

He weaved through the urban streets towards the tavern, pulling into a parking space with perfect precision. He hopped out and rushed to your side of the vehicle, courteous enough to open your door and lend you a hand in your unsteady heels. Offering his elbow, which you graciously accepted though you towered below him by his sheer size, he walked you along the sidewalk to a large pair of deep-colored wooden doors fit with wrought iron handles. Muscling the large hunk of wood would’ve been a feat for anyone, but Clint pulled it open with a breeze, revealing a large crowd of Supernatural cast and crew members. Screams of welcome were thrown in your direction as you shrugged out of your coat and stowed your purse before you were tackled by a few, but notably Ruth, Kim, and Briana, Sam Smith not far behind. The venue was large, with high ceilings and a second floor that could be seen from the first, a dark railing lining the stairs and large overhang. Shining wood adorned almost every surface, from the bar top to the walls with splashes of silvered steel and black iron chandeliers. Soft lighting made everything sparkle, including the martini glass that was practically thrust into your hands by your friends.

You anxiously searched for Jensen, or Jared, as they would be arriving together. Neither could be found or seen, so you settled into the small group and chatted for a bit until others came to greet you. Richard hugged you and Rob gave you a peck on the cheek.

“Alright,” he said. “Who’s the first to dance with the birthday boy?”

“Ooh, me!” you grinned widely, placing your drink on the nearest corner of the bar. You do just about anything for a slight distraction from glancing toward the door every five seconds, so you hopped into Rob’s arms on the dance floor. Other members of the crew were already twirling around when Rob spun you into the open space, a giggle escaping your lips as the lines of your dress whirled around you. His arm circled your waist, pulling you close as you danced back and forth.

Sighing as you rested your head on his shoulder, you said, “This is nice. It’s been a long time since I had a handsome man twirl me around a dance floor.”

“It is a treasure.” Rob laughed gently, swaying you to the upbeat music.

You sighed once more, feeling your nerves itch even as you rocked back and forth to the beat.

Rob placed his lips closely to the shell of your ear to whisper, “Relax, Y/n. He’ll be here soon.”

You quickly pulled back, a look of surprise and shock met Rob’s eyes. The look was enough to send him into a fit of laughter, his bright smile and throaty chuckle vibrating through his arms that held you, “It’s okay, honey. I know who you’re waiting for.”

“Seriously?” you cried. “Does everyone here know something?”

“We’re not gossipers.” He reassured you, but it did little to quell the rapid beat of your heart. “Let’s just say we’ve noticed something there for a long time. Now, just dance with me.”

He pulled you back to him and lightened the mood with a joke about Rich and his directing abilities, causing you to giggle as he twirled you once more.

Jensen waltzed into the space with Jared on his tail, both dressed in blue suits. Jensen’s was a deeper, royal blue with a crisp white shirt underneath and pocket square; Jared’s a tad lighter and paired with a black button-up and tie. Cliff stood watch behind them with Clint by his side, shoulders squared as they conversed, looking like a pair of brick walls near the door.

Jensen’s eyes darted around the room quickly, searching for you, but Jared quickly distracted him with a bump of his elbow and a glass of whiskey on the rocks. As you were, they were quickly accosted by their friends, pulling them each in for a hug or a fist bump. Words were exchanged above the music and Jensen tried to concentrate, but he couldn’t keep himself from scanning the crowd, desperately seeking out your form among the bodies.

“Don’t worry, she’s here.” He heard a small voice beside him say. He looked down to see Sam next to him, his mother on the show and his friend in reality.

“Hey, pretty lady. How are you?” he smiled, hugging her into his side.

“I’m great… but get on with the real questions.” She laughed. “I know who you’re really looking for.”

Jensen wore a soft yet stunned expression as he stared down at Sam until the smile spread across his face once again, “Where is she?”

“She’s dancing with Rob. You could always cut in.” Sam grinned widely, pointing over her own glass towards the dance floor.

You were shining in the dim light of the space as your skirt and hair spun around you and your face held so much joy as you laughed in Rob’s arms. The dress you were wearing showed every curve of your body, accentuating your hips with the flare of the skirt, and the modest lace showed small amounts of skin. Jensen felt his mouth run dry at the sight.

Sam nudged him in his ribs, “Well, what are you waiting for?”

“I—I should wait.” Jensen bargained, “She’s having fun.”

This time, Sam’s nudge was a bit more than a nudge, a prod of her hand into his side made him jerk and chuckle, “Ow!” he exclaimed through his laugh.

“I’m not sure what has been keeping you two from each other for so long, but no more waiting.” She eyed him suspiciously, sensing his nerves. “Jay, you have nothing to be nervous about. I promise.” She assured him.

“Pinky swear?” he proposed.

She took his outstretched finger, before ushering him away, “Go on. Go get her.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He handed off his drink before weaving through the crowd, saying hi and chatting briefly with a few others along the way.

Rob had just slowed his pace as the music changed, the beat and melody shifting into a smoother sound. A modern version of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” flowed through the speakers, and a gentle, feminine voice filled the air.

Suddenly, a voice that caused chills up your spine sounded from beside Rob, “You tryin’ to steal my girl, Rob?”

You whirled quickly to reveal Jensen, looking stunning and wearing a dazzling smile. His hair was brushed with a part down the side and the blue of his suit made his tanned skin flush.

My girl.

The words made your insides melt as a grin fell upon your lips.

Rob looked up to him and quipped, “Wouldn’t dream of it, man.”

“Mind if I cut in?” Jensen asked with a friendly slap to Rob’s shoulder, to which he gave you a quick peck on your cheek before gesturing to his friend.

“Absolutely. I think this is a good song, anyway.” He said the last part quietly, but both you and Jensen caught it.

Sweeping you into his arms, Jensen couldn’t help but notice how perfectly you fit into the curve of his body. The height of your heels allowed you to rest your arms comfortably on his shoulders as he pulled you close and began to move to the music.

“Hi.” You said sheepishly, glancing up at him through your darkened lashes.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

The way he held you sent a shock through your body, making your skin buzz and tingle. His arm was wrapped tightly around your waist, his palm flat against your rib cage as his thumb rubbed against the fabric of your dress. His other hand held yours close to him as your chest pushed against his, leaving no space between the two of you.

Jensen dipped his head low, the scruff of his cheek tickling yours as he whispered in your ear, “I missed you.”

This is the way you should be held.

Helplessly turning to a puddle, you were thankful for his hold on you, otherwise you may have collapsed. The velvety smooth tone of his voice and those words made your knees weak. This feeling—this overwhelming sense of affection that made your heart just about stop but pound at the same time—this was something you’d never felt before. The feel of his hand in yours made your world come into focus to just one person.

Your grip tightened around his neck as you closed what little distance remained between your upper bodies, pulling him so that you could wrap your arm around his shoulders. “I missed you too.”

You danced in silence for a few more moments, thinking briefly about how much those words meant. You’d missed a feeling you’d never felt before but knew within your core that you couldn’t go one more moment without it.

When the song began to shift into another upbeat tune, Jensen regrettably pulled himself from your hold, but to your surprise, he took your hand to lead you to the staircase.

Your heels clicked against the wood as you hurried behind him, neither of you witnessing the grins and giggles that came from your friends who watched him lead you away. At the top of the stairs, he turned to a door that lead outside, opening it and motioning for you to move through with a smile. Small lights hung from a pergola that covered the entire rooftop patio that housed a few tables and chairs for the patrons, but you were drawn to the view. All of downtown Vancouver lit up the night sky, the hustle and bustle of the cars below you adding to its brightness. Stepping closer to the edge, you marveled at the sight.

A pair of strong arms slid around your midsection, the warmth from seeping beneath the fabric of your dress. Jensen’s chin came to rest on your shoulder as his hands folded in front of you, pulling you to him.

Unable to resist, you ran your hands along his forearms as they caged you, quickly threading your fingers with his. A sense of calm washed over you, but still your heartbeat paced, as if being in his arms was both tranquil and exciting.

“Wow. Its beautiful.”

Feeling the hum of vibration coarse through him, Jensen smiled, “You sure are.”

Giggling, you couldn’t help but call him out, “Cheesy, but I’ll take it.”

He quickly spun you in his arms, “I’m serious, sweetheart. You’re the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”

He kept you in his hold with one arm but trailed the other hand up your body, running his palm against your back until it caressed up your shoulder to the base of your neck. Sliding your arms around his waist beneath his suit jacket, you reveled in the feeling.

Jensen ran his thumb against the curve of your jaw, speaking softly, “Y/n, I know we’ve been friends for a long time, and in that time, I’ve learned a lot about myself. I’ve learned what I want out of life, and it took me a while to see that what I’ve wanted has been right here the whole time. I’ve asked myself so many times if I dared to cross this line with you because I never wanted to lose you as a friend.”

Jensen’s freckles danced in the shining light from above and below as your pulse pounded and tears came to your eyes, but his hold never loosened. His hand came to cup your cheek as he continued, “I’ve asked myself so many questions, ‘How would you feel?’ ‘What would you think?’ ‘What would we do?’”

Taking a deep breath, his eyes became downcast, “We’ve both had our share of loneliness in the past, but this has always been there, beneath and beyond our relationships with other people.” When his eyes met yours once more, they were glistening like reflective pools of emerald, his face mere inches from yours. “Y/n, I think we both deserve happiness and if I found that with you, it’d be a dream come true, and I don’t think I can keep this in anymore. What if—what if I told you that—”

“I love you.” You sighed. “Jay, I’ve loved you for so long. I can’t pretend anymore…”

Your words were silenced as his lips crashed to yours.

<Series Masterlist / Part 11 (coming soon)>

A/n 2: I received an anon ask when I was looking for fic ideas(see below) for a Jensen x actress!reader fic a while ago, but recently got hit with a spark of inspiration. This is based off of the song “What if I Said” by Anita Cochran and Steve Wariner and will be a short mini-series. Also there is a wife mentioned in some parts, but I purposefully left this person nameless as to not insinuate anything for Jensen’s real life.                                                                

Anonymous said: Hi! Just saw your post about looking for fic ideas. I’ve had this idea that I really like where reader is an actor on Supernatural and is friends with Jensen. They have a scene where they have to kiss or even just have to be right up in each other’s space and it makes them realize they like each other. It’s probably a common thing to write about, but I thought I’d ask anyway. Thanks!

[jawritter]

Twelve Days Of Christmas

Chapter 6,

Summary: Dean never realized that Y/N missed Christmas until he turned off an annoying Christmas song on the radio on the way home from a hunt, now he will make it his personal mission to give her the Christmas he misses so much, and if he plays his cards right, maybe he will give her what he has wanted to give her for so many years, himself.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Written For: @spnchristmasbingo​​​​​

Square Field: Christmas Tree

Word Count: 2024

Warnings: Fluff, brief mention of past trauma, light angst.

A/N: This is to help me catch up on my SPN Christmas Bingo card lol Chapter 7 will post tomorrow! I knew chapter will post every day until Christmas! I know I’m insane lol. This is a real time fic collection and all mistakes will be my own! Please do not copy my work! Hope you all enjoy these!!

**SERIES MASTERLIST**    **MASTERLIST**    **BECOME A PATREON**

Snow, you had seriously never seen this much snow in your life. You were starting to think it was never going to stop snowing. It snowed all night long, finally slowing to light dusting somewhere around daybreak, and by the time you and Dean had pulled yourselves out of bed, it was evident no one was going anywhere until the snowplows came through to clear the roads, which could take a few days. 

You were totally fine with the idea of hanging around the cabin today. It had been a busy week already. Dean had gone above and beyond what anyone had ever done for you already, and if today was just a day where you hugged out and did nothing, that was okay. Not every day had to be some grand adventure for you. 

Dean, on the other hand, had been eyeing the cluster of small Canaan Firs on the back corner of the property all day. They were just big and full enough to make a small Christmas tree for the two of you. So, without much explanation other than, “get your coat and boots,” you followed Dean towards the little cluster of trees. The small ax he’d found in Baby’s trunk was swung over his shoulder as he trudged ahead of you through the almost kneed deep snow, making a path for you to easier walk in as he paved the way forward to his destination. 

From a few paces back you could see the white flurries land on his broad shoulders as well as the back of his jacket and sock hat as he went, his large silhouette standing out in stark contrast to the snow as he pushed on forward through the unforgiving cold. 

You could hear him humming along to a tune that you didn’t recognize as he turned over his shoulder giving you a little smirk while he watched you struggle to keep up with him through the deep snow. Being short wasn’t exactly working in your favor at the moment, and he paused, turning to fully face you with the ax still slung lazily over his shoulder much like he did his vampire machetes after a hunt. 

“Need me to carry you Y/N/N,” he called sarcastically, and you childishly stuck your tongue out at him before answering. 

“I’m doing just fine on my own Winchester!” 

“Okay, Sweetheart, I was just offering since the snow is almost as tall as you are. I was afraid you’d fall into a drift and I wouldn’t be able to find you until the snow melted,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes dramatically. 

“You just worry about getting us a tree cut down and stop worrying about me,” you tell him, earning a deep chuckle from him as he turned and started to make his way toward the tree line again. 

The sun was starting to go down, it was late but you and Dean both had been pretty lazy today. Doing nothing but watching Christmas movies, you pick this time, and eat as much artery-clogging food as you could manage since you didn’t have Sam the health nut breathing down your throat. The darkening sky overhead cast an almost postcard type feel to the scenery around you, but your gaze was on the back of Dean’s head as he hummed along his way.

He looked particularly smug with himself as he kept making his way towards his goal, still chuckling as your footsteps crunch along behind him. Your inner child was screaming at you to not let him get away with that. So reaching down as you went, you grabbed a handful of snow in your gloved hands and started to pound it into a ball. 

Just as Dean turned to make another comment about you talking all day to catch up to him, you launched the snowball, hitting him squarely in his broad chest, laughing as he looked grumpily from you to the show that still clung to the outer layer of jacket that was on his body before a smile carved by the devil himself appeared on those pink, wind kissed lips of his. 

“Oh Baby, it’s on now.”

Reaching down on the ground in front of him, Dean grabbed a handful of his own snow.

You turn to try and run back towards the house for safety, but it was no use, he was taller and faster than you were. Before you could even take three steps you were nailed in the back with a larger snowball, and Dean’s laugh echoed through the cold air around you as you staggered a little. 

You quickly try to gather up another snowball, but Dean was faster, quickly launching another and barely missing you as you ducked lower to the ground. 

Deciding to change your tactics a little, you charge at him, hurling two more snowballs in his directions. He rolled across the ground to escape them, laughing as you cursed and scrambled to gather up more snow.

“Oh, now you want to play dirty? Well, you shouldn’t write checks you can’t cash baby girl,” he growled playfully, looking up from his sprawled out position with his eyes almost glowing with a childlike excitement you had never seen in Dean before.

Without warning he jumped off the ground, running towards you at an impressive speed. The sudden change totally threw you, and all you could was stand there like an idiot for a moment before turning on your heels and bolting back in the opposite direction. 

Unfortunately, your pause was going to be your demise. Dean’s long legs carried him to you faster than you would have guessed possible, one long arm wrapping around your torso as the other grabbed a handful of fresh powder, dumping it down the back of your shirt and jacket. 

You twist and try to get away from the cold, screaming and laughing until your lungs hurt. If anyone was watching they were surely going to think he was killing you. Both of you were laughing so hard at this point that Dean lost his footing, falling down on his backside and pulling you down with him, both of you lying there in the snow as you tried to catch your breath from your little snowball fight. 

“Okay, truce?” Dean asked breathlessly, still smiling widely. The dim light of the winter evening casting the most gorgeous glow over the exposed skin of his face that you suddenly realized was very, very close to yours, and that you were still sitting on top of him. 

For just a moment you contemplated revenge, but decided better of it, knowing Dean could turn the tables on you in an instant and suddenly have the upper hand again. 

“Truce,” you agreed, slowly climbing off of him and helping him stand to his feet. 

Dean kept up with your pace this time as you made your way towards the tree line, looking at the trees there. While all of them were full and beautiful, they were all a little too big up close to bring into the cabin. 

“You know, there’s a box out in the woodshop labeled Christmas Stuff, bet there’s an artificial tree out there too,” Dean said, looking towards the shed that felt like it was a thousand miles away from you in the dimming light that stretched across the snow-covered lawn. 

“You know, I bet you’re right, cause even if we get one of these bad boys cut we’d have to drag it all the way back up there,” you point out in a huff of white fog, and Dean nodded in agreement. 

“Come on, hop up on my back and I’ll carry you there,” he offered as you gave him a shocked look. “Come on don't be stubborn.”

“Okay,” you agreed reluctantly as Dean knelt down in front of you in the snow for you to wrap your arms around his neck while his gloved hands came to your thighs, hoisting you up as if you weighed nothing at all.

It didn’t take him nearly as long as it would have taken the both of you walking to reach the woodshop, and as you slipped down from his back and turned on the light, you noticed the welding torch Dean had been using when he planned on taking the “big splash” still laying on the workbench and froze. 

Dean noticed your hesitation and followed your gaze with his own before pulling a heavy and on his shoulder. 

“Come on baby girl, let’s not dwell on the past okay? That’s not why we’re here.” 

You knew he was right, but the thought of him out in the middle of the ocean, buried in a metal coffin, trapped with Michael terrified you to this day. In fact, you still had nightmares about it even if you would never tell him that.

You let Dean guide you to the back of the shed, quickly finding boxes of decorations and Christmas lights of all sorts, and finally a tree. 

“Got it!” Dean yelled excited, producing a box marked “Christmas Tree,” and adding it to the growing pile of decorations on the ground. 

“Great, let’s get it to the cabin, I’m freezing,” you tell him. You weren’t really all that cold, but wanting to get away from this room where he’d almost literally created his sealed fate. Dean picked up on your hurry, and nodded, grabbing the boxes he could along with the Christmas tree and following you back into the warmth that awaited in the cabin. You didn’t really take a breath until you were back in its warm enclosure. 

Dean dropped his boxes on the ground, coming up and taking yours from you before slipping his arms around your waist and hugging you tight into him. 

“You okay Y/N,” he asked after you finally returned his hug, holding on to him like he might disappear in front of you if you let him go. 

“I’m fine,” you lie, but Dean saw through it, he knew you all too well, he knew that seeing that had bothered you even though you were trying to hide it. 

“Hey,” letting go of you he pulled a glove free of his hand with his teeth and placed it to the side of your face, making you look up into his astonishing green eyes. “I’m still here, and I don’t plan on going anywhere any time soon.” 

You nod and lean your head into his chest as his fingers glide their way through your hair and calm your racing heart a little. 

“Tell you what, that’s enough adventure for tonight. We can decorate tomorrow, right now I’m going to make you some Winchester Surprise for dinner and we can get drunk and prank call everyone that’s stone age enough to still have a number in the local phone book there.”

You hadn’t expected that, but the thought of Dean calling someone and asking them if their refrigerator was running had you cracking up in spite of yourself. Just like that, all the bad melted away as his lips pressed lightly to your forehead, and removed your jacket for you. Just like that, he chased away the bad memories again, leaving only a peace you had never felt until this moment in its wake. 

Sure the two of you had both been through your share of hell, in Dean’s case literally, but you had never seen it until right then how much you needed him and how you weren’t willing to live without him. He was your person, and you just wished you could be his. 

Even though the past tried to drag itself back up to haunt you, standing in the kitchen with Dean and helping him cook his favorite meal for the two of you felt so natural that you wouldn't have ended day 8 any other way. No matter what happened after Christmas was over, this memory would be your favorite of them all. Just you and Dean, being together in a rare slice of normal, what more could a hunter ask for?

Forever Tags: 

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Jensen and Dean’s babes

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Dean’s Babes

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Series Tag list: 

@440mxs-wife​

[mirkwoodshewolf]

The Prankster Queen is dethroned; SPN & Lucifer cast x teen reader

*Author’s note*

Well this was a LOOOOOONG time request from my Wattpad account but I finally got some motivation to write and finish this fic. Now I talked with the requestor about this and some changes were made, originally this was gonna involve Criminal minds cast but I had barely watched the show at the time so I talked with them and they agreed to have this be a SPN X LUCIFER cast crossover. So I hope you all enjoy this little fic and until the next update.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@platawnic​

__________________________________________________________

“Okay guys; here we are back at the Supernatural set ready to start filming the 2nd half of season 14. Before I get into the special prank on Alex day I want to first send a very special thanks to the Lucifans for the #SaveLucifer and thank Netflix for renewing a season 4 and 5 of Lucifer.  Yes I am a fan of that show as well. I mean I’ve got to my dad plays the famed Devil himself. No, no, no, no, no I’m joking. I watch the show because I really love what they did with it. The writing is phenomenal and the cast is super friendly. They’re like my second family next these guys here at Supernatural.”

I spoke through my Youtube channel streaming live.  I could already see comments popping up along my livestream. Comments like ‘YASS LUCIFERXSPN SUPPORT’ or Winchester sister stans Lucifer.

“Yes I do thank you. Now for the moment you’ve all waited for. I’ve got the plastic wrap, the super glue, feathers, and fan. And of course the star of this prank on Alex, my baby boy Shadow.” I then presented my black German Shepherd who was lying on Alex’s trailer couch. “You ready to prank Alex boy?” he tilted his head to the side. “You ready to prank him?” he let out a bark and I cooed. “Good boy!” I flipped my camera back around and said. “Now Jared kindly set up the camera just a bit ago so I will transition to that in just a little while. For now I’m going to set up the door so please enjoy this fast forward montage of me getting the prank set up.”

I spread the super glue all around the plastic wrapping and tapped it across Alex’s trailer door so that when he would run right into it, he would get trapped with the plastic wrapping before I would attack with the pillow filled with feathers.

“Okay everything’s all set up. Now for the final touch, c’mon boy up on the bed.” He got off the couch and into Alex’s bed and just lay there at the foot of it. “Good boy.” I opened the trailer door and waited for Alex to come around.  Once I saw him walking alongside Misha, I cried out. “ALEX! ALEX! SHADOW’S TAKING A SHIT ON YOUR BED!!”

“What!?”

“I’m not kidding I was walking him and he just ran in here and literally shit on your bed! Bad dog!”

“Shadow! Shadow! Damnit Shadow!” Alex then ran up and just like I hopped, he slammed right into the plastic wrap and fell right to the ground.  I then pelted him with the pillow till his entire face was covered with feathers.

“BOOM SUCKA!!! That’ll teach you to eat my big cookie.” I told him.

“Okay maybe I deserved that.”

“Wow (y/n), all this for a cookie?” Misha said as he helped Alex back up on his feet.

“Misha you don’t understand. Those cookies were my mum’s special recipe. Plus she makes them so big that you can eat it in the space of a week. I was saving the last bit of it and then this guy decides it’s a good idea to eat the last of it.” I said pointing to Alex.

“You know….one of these days. We’re gonna get you back. Everyone that you’ve pranked, we’re gonna get you.” Alex spoke as he coughed out trying to get the feathers out of his mouth.

“The day that happens is the day J2(I/l) turns on each other. And the boys and I have been doing this for a long, long time.” I sassed as I snapped my finger and Shadow hopped off Alex’s bed and we left the trailer.

Little bit about myself; the names (Y/n) Ellis, the last name sound familiar? Yep you thought right. Tom Ellis aka Lucifer Morningstar is my father.  He and I have been in the acting business together for a good amount of years.  In fact he’s helped me when it came to running lines or dealing with the pressures of the acting life, especially since I started off as a child actor at the age of 5.

I had a few small roles, but when I was just 9 years old a role on a little show called Supernatural came knocking at my door.  As a young British girl I was worried that I wouldn’t get it because this was an American tv show and I had to speak with an American accent.  But thanks to a good dialect coach, and 2 test screenings with the boys to see if we were a fit, I got to play the role of Sarah Winchester, the younger half-sister of Sam and Dean who was cursed with witch powers.

But instead of killing her, Sam and Dean actually take her in and she uses her magic for good instead of evil.  For years the Supernatural cast didn’t just become an ordinary job, it was like being home, we became a family.  Jared and Jensen were like the big brothers I never had (even though they were around my dad’s age).

When things got too tough around set, J2 always found a way to make me smile and laugh. And as the years passed, Misha came on board followed by the 2 Marks, Ruth, Brianna and Kim, Osric, Rob and Richard, and now finally Alexander Calvert.  The Supernatural family is a tight bond and we all send out a powerful message that Family don’t end in blood, and to Always Keep Fighting when things got bad.

Then when season 11 of my show was being filmed, my dad had gotten the role of Lucifer Morningstar in Fox’s new tv series “Lucifer” which was basically the story of the devil taking a vacation from Hell and he ends up working with the LAPD alongside a clever detective named Chloe Decker.

When Lucifer exploded every time I went to conventions, fans always ask me questions about potential crossovers or what I thought of the show.  And truthfully I loved it.  In fact whenever I would wrap on my time on a season, I took the hour and 45 minute drive where they filmed Lucifer and spend time with my dad and the Lucifer cast.

Lauren, Aimee and Lesley became my partners in crime when it came to the subtle pranks on the Luci cast or even my dad.  Aimee and I are always making Instagram videos of each other acting like complete nutjobs, she’s like the older sister I’ve always wanted (since I am the eldest of my three sisters).

But that’s my life, and if you were to ask me if I could trade it away for anything else, I would tell you hell no (no pun intended).

After getting Shadow back into my trailer, I decided to see if my dad was willing to talk. I grabbed my I-Pad and went over to Facetime and clicked my dad’s name (of course I added the devil emoji beside his name).  It rang about five times before I finally got an answer.

“There’s my little She-devil.” He answered with a smirk.

“Hey dad.” I said with a smile.

“Aimee saw your prank on that Alex chap.”

“She like it?”

“Mini Ellis you are a she-devil genius!” Aimee soon came into the frame. “You got to show me how that brilliant mind of yours works.”

“Guess I learned from two of the very best. I know exactly how to push buttons but not go overly extreme that it hurts someone’s soul. I’m not completely soulless like Jared is when it comes to pranks.”

“I still can’t believe he actually cut one of his credit cards. That’s super low.” She said.

“I know. I’ve been trying to get him to ease back and not go quite extreme. So far he hasn’t done it knock on wood.”

“Anyways you two, what brings on this call my dove?” my dad asked.

“Just wanted to call and see how you were doing. How’s season 4 coming along?”

“Great. Everything is great. Thanks to the Lucifans, and the Supernatural family.” My dad said.

“No sweat. You’re my dad. I’m still pissed that FOX could just cancel your show like that. And the way they would’ve ended it. God that’s literally the worst cliffhanger ever!”

“Tell me about it.” Aimee groaned.

“But it’s all fixed now. Netflix will take good care of us now. Plus we don’t have as much restrictions as FOX gave us.” My dad teased.  I then heard a knock at my trailer door which made Shadow raise his head up from his bed and his attention turned toward the door.

“Hang on dad, who is it?!”

“It’s Jared! C’mon kiddo they need us on set now.”

“Alright I’ll be there in a minute.” I turned back to my dad and Aimee and my dad said to me.

“Go on, we’ll catch up later.”

“Alright dad. Give my love to the rest of the cast.”

“You already have my love mini Ellis.” Aimee said.

“Love you Aims!”

“Alright darling love you. Stay safe and have fun filming your next season.” The two of them blew me a kiss goodbye and I waved bye to them and the Facetime shut off. I put my phone aside and quickly refilled Shadow’s water bowl before I took off and raced towards the set.

Although unbeknownst to both Jared and Jensen something was waiting for them.  As I walked in on the set I sat down at the spot where my character Sarah was to sit for this upcoming scene.

“Okay guys on cue marks. Cue lighting and roll sound.” I got into the mindset of Sarah and took the prop book in my hands as our director called out, “Okay cue Jensen and Jared. And…..action.” it was then Jensen came down the staircase while Jared came out from the back corridor.

“Hey, so any word from Jodie?” Jensen asked as Dean to Jared.

“No not yet. Hey Sar, any luck with the research?” Jared asked me as Sam.

“Not a damn thing. God even for a witch like me I still can’t figure out the spell to get us to that other place. I’m sorry guys I may be strong, but I’m not Rowena strong.”

“No, no it’s alright. It’s okay. We’ll……find another way.” Then Jared and Jensen took their seats before suddenly jolting upwards and letting out girlish screams of shock and pain.

“CUT!!!” our director called out.

“The hell was that!?!” Jensen proclaimed.

“Oh thank god I thought it was just me.” Jared sighed with relief.  I kept my poker face up as I said to them.

“What happened just now?”

“Something shocked us. I don’t know what but whatever it was, it should never have shocked me back there. My butt does not deserve that kind of treatment!” he looked around the cushioned seat until he found some sort of electronic shock pad. It was slightly smaller than the cushioned pad and as soon as Jensen took hold of it and pressed a certain button, it caused another shock to run through his arm as he swore out loud and shake his arm.

“Uhh Jensen why would you do that?” I asked him.

“I don’t know I needed to see if it was real or not don’t judge me!”

“How the hell did these even get here?” asked Jared.

“No idea.” Jensen said.  I covered my smile as I tried to act inconspicuous but that’s when the two of them looked at me. “You did this?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I said as I stood up and strutted out of the room sassily to run into Misha and I told him. “Your revenge plot has been successfully played out.”

“I knew I could count on you (n/n). Thanks.”

“No problem, but just know Misha all things come at a price with me. Pranking the kings don’t come without consequence.”

“I know, I know. But still I thank you for doing this for me. That’ll teach Jared to put old cheese in my pillow.”  I patted his arm before leaving him to reset the scene again.

Weeks passed and filming continued on up until I was finally done with my scenes which meant that I was now allowed to travel on up to the Lucifer set and pop in and say hello.  After bidding everyone goodbye until July, I got into the car and my driver Tommy drove me on up towards the studio where my dad and the rest of the Lucifer family were filming.

After finally arriving on the set, I saw Lauren and Aimee out and about with a Starbucks cup in their hands.  As soon as they saw my car, they immediately waved.  I rolled down my window and said.

“What up my Luci sistas!”

“Ahhh mini-Ellis!” Aimee proclaimed.  Once the car stopped, I stepped out and I raced towards her and she met me in the middle as the two of us embraced each other tightly, rocking aggressively from side to side.  “Where’s big Shadow? You usually bring him with you whenever you’re done with shooting.”

“Well for some reason Misha wanted to keep him around set. Guess he must’ve needed the fluffy protection from Jared and Jensen after the prank I pulled on them a few weeks back.”

“What’d you do to them?” asked Lauren.

“Just put a shock pad cushion underneath their chairs. Misha told me to do it to get back at Jared for putting old cheese in his pillow.”

“Wow those guys are relentless huh?” said Aimee.

“Yep. But enough of that now, let’s get going. I wanna watch you guys film some stuff.”

“Alright! C’mon kiddo let’s go.” Lauren wrapped her arm around me before playfully giving me a noogie while guiding me onwards to the set.

I greeted my Lucifer family like D.B, Kevin, Lesley-Ann, Rachael, and of course young Scarlett (ever since the show I officially adopted her as my younger sister).

“So, have you guys seen my dad anywhere?” I asked.

“Last we saw him he was leaving his trailer for costume and makeup.” Aimee said.

“Perfect.”

“What have you got in mind she-devil?” asked Lauren with a grin.

“Ohhh not much.” I grinned as I walked towards the costume and makeup trailers.

Once I got there, I had spotted my dad just getting out from the costume trailer in the full Lucifer suit.  I grinned mischievously and slowly stalked towards him.  This was something that I used to always do to him when I was a little girl, it’s been awhile but I hope I still got it.  Like a tigress on the prowl I stalked behind my dad silent and carefully.

Whenever he turned around, I would hide behind anything I could whether it was the side of a trailer/tent, or even one of the many gold carts/motorbikes.  Then when he would resume his walk, I trailed behind him once again.  Closer and closer I got till finally I was within strike range.

The mighty huntress has cornered her prey.

I then trotted forward before leaping up but I was foiled when my dad turned around and managed to catch me and spin me around for a moment in his arms.

“Thought you’d sneak up on my again huh my little tigress? After all these years I finally caught you red handed.”

“Took you over 20 years but no time like the present eh?” my dad smirked down at me, the smirk that I had inherited from him, and said as he booped my nose.

“I just know when my daughter feels a little extra cheeky.” He bopped my nose as he said ‘cheeky’ which made me playfully stick my tongue out at him. “And put that tongue away young lady we are not a snake.”

“Wrong. Don’t you remember I got sorted into Slytherin when we went to Harry Potter world.”

“Yes I do recall that. But that’s still no excuse. Stick that tongue out at me again and I’ll give you a good whopping, do I make myself clear.”

“Yes father.” I submitted.  He pecked my forehead before releasing me.

“So, you’ve finished with your filming?”

“Yep. Managed to wrap up a little early, at least for me.”

“Now I’ve been hearing a lot of rumors about you potentially branching off and getting your own spinoff series?”

“Well I don’t like to brag but it’s still a rumor. Not even I can confirm it. Besides, who knows if the CW will allow it. I mean don’t get me wrong the other two sub-series I didn’t agree with but Wayward Sisters, I would’ve LOVED to see that become something. Maybe have Sarah make a few surprise appearances.”

“Well, if the CW don’t allow it, maybe Netflix will. You never know. I could put in a good word for you.”

“Thanks dad.”

“Tom! Hey Tom! Susan needs you in makeup stat. You’re shooting in ten.” One of the make artists came racing up to us.

“Oh fu—sorry about that Johnny.” My dad wrapped an arm around my shoulders and the two of us walked towards the makeup trailer so that he could get ready.

After doing a quick touch up on my dad, the two of us left for the LAPD set and everyone was already running around getting to their marks or getting the cameras rolling.  I sat right next to the director Sherwin as he was calling for cameras to focus and start rolling.  Finally he called action and I got to sit and watch the new Netflix: Lucifer finally be filmed.

It was a long day of shooting and filming but it was a very productive day.  I even got to learn about directing since (spoiler alert! I get to direct an episode this season of Supernatural!).  I was currently right now sitting with my dad sipping a cup of tea.

“Now I know that one episode that witches have familiars. If Sarah were to have a familiar, which pet would she have and who would you want to play that familiar?” I hummed.

“Well. No offense to the women but most of the time when a new female comes on Supernatural she always ends up being a bitch. With the exception of Kim, Bri, Ruthie, Felica, and the rest of the Wayward sisters. So I’d have to say Sarah would want a male familiar. And yes while I do love dogs and would KILL to have Shadow actually be in front of the camera, I think she’d prefer a cat. Now for the actor to play him. Now don’t laugh but—this is my fantasy dream cast…..”

“Oh just get on with it will you little missy! Stop droning on!” my dad whined. I mimicked his whining before I finally admitted.

“Gwilym Lee okay!”

“The Welsh actor from that Midsomer murders series you used to watch?”

“Yeah, why not? I think he’d make a perfect cat familiar. Wise, loyal, good fighter. And—not that bad looking if I may say.”

“Alright down girl. I swear you and Aimee have been fawning over actors far too much.”

“Then you do not want to see me with the young Wayward sisters. We’re a lot worse. Plus it gets awkward when they start talking about you. Especially when it involves the Lucifer cast.”

“Oh my god.” He groaned.

“I know right!? It’s bad enough I hear from the fans about how much of a ‘thirsty dad’ you are. But now I have to hear it at work!” before my dad could say anything else, Lesley came running in with a worried look on her face. “Whoa Les, where’s the fire at?”

“You gotta call the Supernatural set (y/n).” she panted out.

“Why what’s going on?”

“I don’t know something about Shadow.” Without hesitation I took my phone out and dialed Misha’s number.  It rang and rang and as it kept ringing I grumbled.

“C’mon Misha pick up your bloody phone already!”

‘Hello?’

“Misha what’s going on!? What happened to my son!?”

‘I’m sorry (y/n) Jared was eating some M&M’s earlier and he left the table for one second and the next thing he saw was Shadow eating the M&M’s he had managed to knock down on the floor!’

“WHAT!?!?!?!?”

‘Just come by over here, he’s been whimpering and we don’t know the contact information to the vet.’

“Okay I’ll be there as soon as I can. Try to make him as comfortable for me as possible. Okay! Tell him mummy’s on her way!”

‘Okay I will. And (y/n). Hurry!’ I hung up the phone and raced off.

“Whoa, whoa mini-Ellis where are you off too in such a hurry?” Kevin said as he and Aimee were walking back from the catering (after I had noticed the chocolate doughnut in Aimee’s hand).

“Shadow’s sick! Ate M&M’s. I gotta go!” I couldn’t even form a proper sentence as I raced outside and phoned my driver to hurry the fuck back to the set and drive me back to the Supernatural set.

Thankfully, he was right outside and the second I jumped right on in, I banged on the back window and ordered him to drive and soon he was off.  Oh Shadow baby hang in there baby boy!

Finally after what felt like an eternity (I don’t know why the driver had taken the long way around. Said it was fucking traffic or something like that). But before the car could even come to a complete stop, I jumped out of the car and raced towards the building calling out Shadow’s name.

I quickly raced into the main Supernatural set to see that it was completely empty.

“Shadow!? Shadow! Here boy!” I whistled.  Just hearing the way Misha had talked on the phone it made me really worried about my baby boy’s health.  And now just not seeing him come on command when he’s supposed to, got me really anxious.

I walked further through the main set (which was the map room of the bunker) when I felt myself slightly trip forward and I looked down to see a tripwire.  Oh shit.

SPLASH! I jumped as I let out a shriek when a small water balloon fell right at my feet.  A split second later another dropped on the other side of me but still close enough to my feet.  I jumped two more times as two more water balloons splashed right by me.

“Really guys? If you’re gonna do something like that at least have good aim.” But I was unaware of the enormous water balloon that was now starting to roll down. When I looked up, my heart sunk as I slowly let out a scream and soon I was drenched.

But it wasn’t water.  Well normal water anyway, when I had looked at myself I had seen that I was now covered head to toe in the famed fake blood the makeup artists make from corn syrup, chocolate syrup and food coloring.

My breathing sharpened and I growled out.

“J2. Are without a doubt. The lowest most vile Americans to EVER WALK THE PLANET!!!” This was my favorite shirt and now the boys ruined it.  Plus do you know how long it takes to get fake blood out of your hair? Believe me it’s not pretty. Hours upon hours of just brushing through one section of hair.

Soon enough the entire cast came out laughing and clapping but what was shocking was that the Lucifer cast also came out smiling and clapping along.

“We got you good kid!” Misha laughed.

“You��you all were……”

“About time we finally dethroned the Prank Queen. You’ve been stealing our thunder for too long kid.” Jensen said.

“And thanks to your dad and the rest of the Lucifer cast, they gave us the time to set all this up.” Jared said as he held his phone up probably recording the whole thing.  I turned to my dad and hissed.

“Et tu Papa?”

“Sorry darling. They were convincing. Plus you’ve been going a little overboard with the pranks. You even placed a dead fish in my car.” Dad said.

“Or itching powder in my underwear drawer last year during season 3.” DW added.

“And hacking my Instagram professing love for the DCEU when you know I’m a Marvel girl.” Aimee said.

“And of course you can’t forget your recent little prank. The electric cushions.” Jared said.

“So we all came together and finally got you back.” Alex said smugly.

“How’s it feel now? You just got Carrie’d!” Lauren proclaimed.

“You all are so lucky I’m not a real witch or a telepath. Cause otherwise you’d all be screwed right now!” I spat out the fake blood that was starting to seep into my mouth.  “But I’ll admit. Only I could come up with something like this. I’m impressed. Especially since it was a crossover team effort.”

Both castmates from each show came around me and that’s when all the selfies and self-promotion of dethroning the “Prank Queen” has officially happened.  Of course I couldn’t help but chase after J2 as well as my dad so that I could smear the blood on them as payback for what they did to me.

Yep the life of an actress on Supernatural who happens to be the daughter of the current ‘hot’ Lucifer Morningstar, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.  So while the entire cast and my family got their victory out of the way, I began plotting my next ultimate prank.

[sylvanfreckles]

(besides the last part of s15) how many seasons of spn did you watch live and how many did you binge? as someone who binged all 14+ seasons I need to know if you have any war stories from watching the show live tell me about your battle scars

Ha ha...that’s a tough question.

I watched season 3 and part of season 4 “live” (I didn’t have TV so I bought the episodes on Amazon the day after they aired). Then I had some financial difficulties and didn’t even have internet for a long time (like seven years? Not consistent, at least, I had data on my phone but that was limited). I felt like I was so far behind I just couldn’t catch up...then after season 13 I picked it up again and binged it over the summer before season 14 was released (yay internet! I don’t have cable and the satellite won’t pick up the CW in this areal). So I watched 14 and 15 next-day release the same as 3 and 4.

The battles scars...hoo boy. None of the show drama really hits me anymore. After season 14 ended I decided to rewatch the entire season from the beginning before season 15 (they had already announced 15 was the last season at this point...oh, look, I think that was the same month as this event). I had gotten to season 6, to the episode where they confront Cas and find out he’s been lying to them...and my husband walked into the room and told me he didn’t feel like being married anymore. So...any battle scars I might have had pale in comparison to that lol. So that’s why I’m not charging after the producers with a bloody pitchfork, because nothing they’ve done can compare with the man I loved for over a decade telling me that not only did he want a divorce, but that he knew I wanted one and should have seen it coming (neither of which were true, I wanted counseling).

Discovering the show was a good thing, though. I’m the same age as Sam, and at that time I was at that awkward stage of not finding too many shows that fit my age group (older than cartoons, younger than a lot of drama shows like CSI). Thankfully I’d already had my fanfiction awakening, and though I didn’t know about AO3 at the time there was this site called deandamage.com, which was all Dean whump stories (I think it’s out of usage now). I never understood what anyone saw in Sam when Dean was RIGHT THERE lol. Of course, then Castiel came along and I was gone.

Oh, man. Back in the day. Back in the season 4 day. There was a group of people (they probably exist now) who were convinced Jensen and Jared were in love and they’d literally send hate messages to their wives for “keeping them apart” and Misha used to troll them so bad. People sent him death threats and threatened his family and he just laughed at them. I think that’s what made me love Cas so much, because behind him was an actor who stood up for his friends and made fun of bullies. Granted, they’ve all grown up a bit now, but I still think of that sometimes.

I guess that’s my season 4 war story lol. Fans were piling hatred on the wives for “daring” to keep their husbands apart (called them beards...which is slang for a woman a gay man marries to hide his true sexual preference...and that was the polite ones) and Misha was just posting pics of the happy couples together and saying how happy he was for all of them.

Oh, and men can totally work together that closely for four years without falling in love. We should allow men to have close friends and be emotionally close with one another. Fight toxic masculinity!

[kurlyfrasier]

Spaghetti Girl (Part 2/3)

Dean x Reader

Synopsis: Ok so I had a really good description but lost it so.....yeah. Can’t think of words right now. Will add synopsis later...This is one of my favorite SPN fanfics I’ve written, so please read!

Word Count: 1790

Warnings: none

You had no idea Dean had a tender smile playing on his lips as he watched you dance. If one could really call it dancing. But it was good exercise and ten times more fun than your everyday workout routine your doctor had you on in an attempt to keep your symptoms down. 

Speaking of which, you would have to tell the boys you needed to split for a couple of weeks to go for your check-up, refill your meds, and probably get your yearly MRI done. The thought had you unknowingly stop dancing mid-song, a frown marred your features. How would you go about telling Dean you suddenly had to leave? You had no family, none who were blood related, anyway. They were the only hunters you really knew, so you couldn’t claim you were visiting another hunter. Maybe you could tell him you found a simple case. No need for them to come along. Maybe you could slip away. It’s not like Dean would really notice. He had made it clear he doesn’t like you anyway. 

Snapping your fingers, you strode out of the room, deciding that you’d tell Sam you would be gone for a couple of weeks and slip away that night with Dean none the wiser. Perfect! Then Sam could tell Dean you had to leave for whatever reason. That was, if he even noticed you were gone. For now, you would pack and find Sam.

Packing took less than ten minutes. You had decided to only take the essentials, a couple of books, and your trusty weapons duffell that barely left your side, just in case. You decided not to worry about your missing Nicholas Sparks book. You could always buy another one anyway. Sam, on the other hand, took a few minutes to find. When you did find him, you were surprised to see him in the kitchen. Alone.

“I thought Dean was making dinner?” You asked, slowly stepping into the room, eyes roaming for Dean, worried he would pop out any second and ask questions you didn’t want to answer. There was no way you could lie through one of his interrogations. The mouthwatering aroma of beef and red sauce didn’t even penetrate your senses, you were so nervous.

“Uh, he was,” Sam looked over his shoulder and continued when he didn’t see Dean with you. “He is, really. He had to step out for a sec. Looks like he made our famous Winchester Pasta Sauce too,” he smiled. Maybe he could help his brother out a little. He did seem a bit desperate earlier.

“Oh good. About him stepping out, I mean. And the sauce. Sounds delicious,” you babbled. Taking a deep breath, you continued. “Anyway, Sam.”

“Yeah?”

“I gotta leave tonight. I, uh, have someplace I have to be. Is it okay if I leave most of my stuff here?”

“Yeah that’s fine. Y/n, you know you’re welcome anytime and that room will always be yours, right? You’ve been here for a few months now. I was hoping you were thinking of this place as your home.”

“Yeah, yeah. It is. I just wanted to make sure, thanks.” You hoped he wouldn’t ask any questions as you awkwardly stood there, rubbing your hands up and down your hips. A sad attempt at wiping the sweat off your clammy palms. That happened when you were nervous… or lying. Or anytime you felt distressed, really.

“So, where are you going?”

“Denver,” you lied. You were actually going to St. Louis, but you didn’t want Sam to have to lie to Dean. This way if he asks or goes looking for you -which would happen with your luck- Dean won’t find out what’s really going on. Then he’ll never know about your neuromuscular problem and you’ll be able to continue hunting with them. You knew it was stupid, really. You knew hunting wasn’t the smartest thing to be doing with your disease. Not smart at all actually, but you felt like you were really helping people and that felt good. Nothing was going to keep you from ganking creeps and killers if you had any say in the matter. Not even the Winchesters. Luckily you caught the disease early on, so for now, your symptoms haven’t completely disabled you. Make things difficult? Yes. But you haven’t gotten to the point where your limbs don’t listen at all.

“So, why Denver?” 

“Change of scenery,” you shrugged. “I like the Rockies. It’ll be a nice vacation and Dean won’t have to be on his toes around me all the time.”

“I don’t think Dean minds having you around, y/n.”

“It’s okay, Sam, really. Some people just don’t click, ya know?” Even though you had wished that Dean would notice you. Or at least talk to you. Or that you would grow on him over time, like asparagus. Nobody really likes asparagus the first few times they try them.

“You gonna leave after dinner?”

“Yeah, tonight. After you guys go to bed.”

“No goodbye, huh?” Sam chuckled.

“This is my goodbye, Tallboy,” you smacked him playfully on the arm. “I just figured Dean isn’t going to care one way or the other. So instead of making him wish me luck and say goodbye, I’ll just slip out.” You smiled sadly. You think Dean and yourself would get along well if he gave you the chance. You both love classic rock and you’re both great hunters. He always makes you laugh when he deigns to tell jokes in front of you. Not that he ever tells you the jokes. “Besides,” you continued, “I’ll only be gone a couple of weeks.”

Around the corner in the hallway, Dean’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach. You were leaving. You were leaving that night and you weren’t going to tell him goodbye. Had he really made you think that little of him?

He had followed you to your room earlier, watched you pack and wondered what for. Now he knew. 

Without warning he walked into the kitchen as if he had no clue about the conversation. “Hey.”

“You’re back,” Sam stated the obvious, noticing immediately something was wrong, but kept silent about it as he moved away from the stove. “Uh, I went ahead and added the sauce.”

“Yeah, thanks man.” Dean was furious with you. Not that he had any right to be and he knew it. Which only made it worse. He wanted a nickname. He wanted you to tell him goodbye, for you tell him about your medical stuff. He wanted you to talk to him about books and movies and music and- well, everything. Yet all he had done was make everything worse and now, when he finally decides to show you he wants you- needs you, really- you’re leaving. For two whole weeks. He was going to lose his mind without you around. It was hard enough making you partner with Sam on hunts. At least in those situations he would be within hearing distance. But Denver?

“Spaghetti will be done soon, y/n, if you wanted some,” Dean said, unable to face you. 

If you wanted some? Of course you wanted some. There was no way even Dean didn’t know spaghetti was your favorite food of all time. Actually, maybe there was a chance he didn’t know. Considering he always seemed to go out of his way to ignore you.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll go clean up real quick,” you said, slipping out of the kitchen. Sometimes Dean could seriously be frustrating. Maybe it was time you started thinking about leaving the Winchester’s bunker permanently. Obviously only one brother wanted you there, as much as you wished it wasn’t so, and it wasn’t the one in charge.

“That was-”

“A disaster, Sam. A complete and total disaster.”

“Well, as long as you-”

“Know? Yeah, I know. I heard every freakin’ word, Sam. Every. Word.”

“Oh. It’s only for a couple of weeks, Dean.”

“Only!? I’ve already wasted three months! Possibly ruined any chance I have.”

“I doubt that. Y/n’s naturally forgiving. We can come up with a plan while she’s gone. A whole new Dean.” Sam moved his hand in front of him as if he was reading the words in the air.

“Or we could follow her and make up a plan on the way.” Dean poured the sauce in with the noodles and started mixing aggressively.

“Follow her?”

“Yeah. To Denver.”

“You mean St. Louis.”

“No,” Dean shook his head. “I mean Denver. That’s what she said.”

“Yeah, but she was lying. You’d know that if you were in the room with us earlier. There’s no way she’s going to Denver.”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Dean whisper-hissed as he heard you walking their direction from down the hall.

~~~~~~~~~~

Both Winchesters were sleeping as you tiptoed through the halls. You had put your bags in your old Wrangler while Dean finished up the spaghetti. And by bags, you meant all of them. You were leaving the Winchesters for good. Never to return. You were sad about not telling Sam to his face, but a letter would have to suffice. There was no way you were going to go one more day in Dean’s presence. You have no idea what you ever did to him, but that man really didn’t like you. He only tolerated you because you and Sam got along so well and you knew it. But now you had to get to your check-up with Doc.

“Dean!” Sam yelled, shaking his brother awake. They had decided after dinner to head out after you in the morning. Sam had put a tracking device in your phone the first week you stayed at the bunker. So following you would be easy. “Dean! Wake up! She’s gone. Like gone gone.”

“Gone?” He shot up, clothes still on from yesterday. He didn’t want to waste even a second when they were to head after you.

“Yeah, she left a letter. Dude, she really thinks you hate her.”

“Give me that,” he snatched the paper out of Sam’s hand and sat up to read.

Sam,

I’m sorry, but this is a permanent goodbye. I know we get along splendidly and you make me feel very welcome, but Dean can’t stand me. I’m done making him feel uncomfortable in his own home. For that’s exactly what the bunker is for you guys.

I’ll miss you Tallboy. I hope you both live long lives like you’re meant to because the world would be nothing without you guys. Be careful out there. Maybe someday we’ll meet up again. 

Thanks for everything,

Y/n

P.S. Let me know if you find my book

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 3

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Leap of Faith

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, reader’s ex

Word Count: 1,083

Warnings: minor mentions of psychological abuse in relationships, fluff at the end

Summary: You encounter your ex at a Christmas Party, and a handsome stranger comes to your rescue at the most desperate time.

Beta: none

Squares Filled: people in glass houses should not throw stones for @as-the-saying-goes-bingo // free space for @spndeanbingo // mistaken for a couple in @spnfluffbingo

meaning of people in glass houses should not throw stones is that one should not criticize others, because everybody has faults of one kind or another.

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in!

this is super late, but this is for my past 25 days of rpf christmas with the prompt: you overhear my ex mocking me for being single at a holiday party and introduce yourself as my SO with a kiss on the cheek but we’ve never spoken before

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

Usually, Christmas parties were so much fun. You love having a good time with your friends, getting drunk, and dancing the night away. Only you have no friends here, you’re having a miserable time, no one is dancing, and you’re trying to get drunk. It’s the only way you’ll get through this evening. Normally, you would have left by now, but it’s your ex’s party. He incited you, and you couldn’t say no because he might think you’re not over him even though you are. Your only other option was saying yes.

There was a slight problem when you RSVP’d yes, and the problem still remains the same: you have no date.

There’s no problem going out and meeting new people, but your ex will try and make you feel bad for showing up without a date. Derrick has always been self-centered and arrogant. You overlooked those traits at the beginning of your relationship because you were desperate. It had been so long since you’ve had contact with another man, so you settled for less than what you deserved. It’s a trait you’re still trying to overcome even to this day.

Derrick was never abusive towards you, never laid a hand on you in the wrong way, but he never thought of you as an equal. Maybe that’s abusive in most minds, and you see it now. Back then, you just thought it was his personality or the way he is. He’s the kind of man that makes everything about him. When he wanted to hang with his friends, then there was nothing wrong with that. However, if you wanted to do the same thing, then it was the end of the world. You felt like he kept trying to control you in every way, shape, and form. Maybe he didn't realize what he was doing, but that’s a lie you still tell yourself long after you two broke up.

No one at this party looks like they’re having fun, and you’re this close to dropping everything and leaving. Derrick is a powerful man at this company, so you figured you’d at least run into him once. The fact that you didn’t even see him in the room is surprising. The longer you stayed at the party, the more you realized how much you don’t care what Derrick thinks of you. Seeing the fake faces of his coworkers is something you never want to see again. You chug the rest of your champagne glass and head towards the elevator. You have about twenty feet between you and freedom when you hear your name being called.

“Y/N! You made it!” Derrick calls loudly for you.

You turn hesitantly to face your ex that has not one but two beautiful women on his arms.

“Derrick!” you fake chuckle.

“I didn’t think you were going to make it.”

“Why not? I was invited, right?”

“Yeah, but I see you’re still dateless. Some things never change,” he laughs and so does the two women.

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong. I do have a date,” you lie.

What the fuck were you doing? Why would you lie to him? He knows better than anyone just how bad you are at lying.

“Really? Where is he?”

“He’s in the bathroom.”

Your voice wavers in the middle of the sentence, and that’s the dead giveaway that you’re lying. That and your face just goes beet red. You clear your throat in hopes he didn’t detect it.

“Ah, Y/N, you never were a good liar. Don’t worry about not having a date. I mean, it never happens to me, but it’s nothing new to you.”

You could not have been more humiliated more than you are right now. You’re faced with two options right now: you can either leave and risk Derrick bringing you down even more, or you can stay and let him belittle you more. Either way, you’re going to be the one that goes home crying. You couldn’t stand up to him before, and you’re not going to start now.

You’re about to succumb to your flight response when you feel an arm slide over your shoulders and rest there. A complete stranger has gotten in the middle of whatever was happening. Scratch that, a complete attractive stranger. You open your mouth to ask him who the hell he thinks he is when he speaks.

“I’m sorry I took so long. There was a line in the bathroom. Hi, I’m Jensen Ackles, Y/N’s date,” the stranger introduces himself.

“You’re her date? Why?” Derrick snickers.

“You don’t see me making fun of the two bimbos you got, so don’t make fun of Y/N.”

“Whatever man,” Derrick scoffs and leaves.

“I am so sorry,” Jensen apologizes and takes his arm off you. “I couldn’t help it when I overheard him talk to you that way.”

“I’m used to it,” you shrug.

“Well, you shouldn’t have to be. I’m sorry for scaring you, but I couldn’t watch that happen.”

“I appreciate it, Jensen. Thank you.”

There’s nothing left to say to the attractive man who came to your rescue. You turn on your heel to leave because there’s no reason to stay any longer. You’ve already been humiliated enough for the night.

“Are you busy Friday night? I bought too much food for one person, and I’d hate to throw it all out.”

“Are you asking me out?” you ask and turn to face him.

“Yeah.”

“Look, I appreciate what you did for me, but you don’t need to go into more trouble for me.”

“I’m not. Truth is, I think you’re quite beautiful. I saw you when you came in, but I was kind of intimidated.”

“By me?” you gasp in shock.

“Yeah. I mean look at you.”

“Me?”

“One date is all I’m asking. If you don’t like it, then I’ll never bother you again,” he smiles in a charming way.

Jensen is quite attractive if you’re being honest with yourself. You detect a southern accent that’s been faded over time, the freckles that dust his skin look like constellations, and his smile is to die for. It’s weird to think about this right now, but you believe in miracles, and he became one tonight. Leap of faith, right?

“I guess I can’t say no. We’re already dating, apparently,” you joke.

“Then I better make it worth your while,” he smiles back warmly.

Good things can come from your ex’s party. You just have to know where to look.

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