#imagine if they had dropped this characters' playlist for spn

[castieldelamancha]

take me to church is a great choice for crowley, but all i can see rn is crowley jumping around burning his lil' demonic feet, take him to church but metaphorically not for real please

[synesindri]

C O U X Y

come throughhh anon!!! love these ones...

C - answered here

O. Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

aight set my massive "every song i have ever liked" playlist on shuffle and got "obscured" by blutengel & hocico, which reminds me of my wifey from the magnus archives, aka jude perry <3 she's so scary <3 incinerate me daddy <3

U. Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

oh nice ok let's go with non-spn ones just for the thrill of it!

laurits seier from ragnarok the netflix series: so, ok, i'm biased because of general non-fandom-specific loki favoritism, but genuinely laurits is SUCH a good adaptation of loki. obnoxious, smug, insecure, ugly & pretty little weed, good humored, switches side at the drop of a hat according to reasons that are motivated by anything ranging from genuine logical emotional need to genuine but illogical emotional need to wanting to stir shit up to pragmatic calculation to "did i do that? lol who knows why." actually kind of an unlikable asshat for many of these reasons (in a way i find extremely likable), but funny and touching also. exciting and interesting about gender in ways i identify with and sometimes struggle to find rep for. relatable other identity difficulties. single-handedly responsible for me being able to stomach pregnancy arcs by virtue of doing pregnancy in THE weirdest, grossest way imaginable and being SO sweet about it. cool style. hits on people and sucks at it. just genuinely the height of blorbo qualities, for me

laszlo cravensworth from wwdits: so. i mean. what a way with words, first of all. my sweet cheese, my rotten soldier, my good time boy, etc. legend. laszlo gives the impression of being a self-important dickweed who does not give a fuck, and he IS that, but he also is arguably the most emotionally intelligent of the dingdongs, just selective about how he shows it. i get that! admire it, even! he's genuinely invested in his relationships with especially nadja but also to some extent the rest of the people around him and actually steps up to be responsible about it when needed. plus he wears nail polish and has a weird dick. idk, what's not to love

eowyn of rohan from lotr: one of my prototypical, formative faves. the drive to do something she feels strongly about, in a way she is barred from doing but is much better at than the role she is supposed to have, and has that unbelievably beautiful epic moment where she gets to defend someone she loves in a really unexpected but direct way is so significant — but i think that alone wouldn't have had such a strong impact as that in combination with other facets of the character. like, she can do battle, she's good at it, but she ultimately decides that it is maybe not the best thing. i respect that! i think about that a lot! i also have skills that i think aren't necessarily great! and she has a somewhat developed alter-ego that feeds my desire to read genderweirdness onto characters i like. AND she's tight with my other lotr fave, merry brandybuck; they've got fun chemistry and she finds a kinship with him in their mutual desire to fight for what they believe in while not being allowed to, and instead of trying to distance herself from the risk of being found out, she helps him to follow the same instincts that she shares.

X. A trope which you are almost certain to love in any fandom.

i always love a bodyshare moment or a dual-identities situation or whatever. that isn't always applicable though so let's go with unreality and ambiguous endings. unreality and ambiguous endings my beloveds <3

Y - answered here

[fizzyxcustard]

Under The Mistletoe.

Fandom: Real Person Fiction (Richard Armitage)

Summary: This is an amalgamation of an imagine and Christmas special idea rolled into one. My original imagine was "Imagine Richard admitting he loves you but you are adamant he’s joking and he winds up blowing up at you through your stubbornness and accusing him of being a liar." This was then requested by an anonymous reader for it to be turned into fic. So, when Richard finally has you under the mistletoe, do you believe that he truly loves you? 

Pairings: Richard Armitage x fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, language

Word count: 1414

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be added to my tag lists for a particular fandom, character, or even everything, please send me an ask or a private message and I will add you. MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE! ;) Like always, this may just turn into a two-parter, which in this case I’ll probably write for New Year. 

Music listened to whilst writing this: Two Steps From Hell personal playlist on iTunes. 

Masterlist of fan fiction here

You stepped back into your flat, shutting all the cold air out, and you walked into the warmth and comfort. The day at work had been long, exhausting and at that point all you wanted to do was get into your pyjamas, make a mug of steaming hot chocolate and watch cheesy Christmas films. The very thought that you now had a week off for the holiday made you smile to yourself, and you had gotten through the festive work meal relatively unscathed. It had taken place at a local Chinese restaurant, and the majority of your co-workers had departed from the venue intoxicated, meaning that you had been designated taxi driver for three of them. The smell of vomit was still lingering from your back seat. Anthony, the one whose undigested meal had coated your car upholstery, had offered you money for a full valet, but you declined, not wanting to embarrass him further.

All of the drama from the last week was now over. The high demand in work, office gossip, employee secrets you had been asked to keep, and you could shut it all out.

Suddenly you remembered that Richard was due to come over. Your best friend of the last two years, a handsome actor who had come into your life by pure chance. How could you have forgotten that he was visiting? The headache of the day had caused you to tune out the one thing that made you happy: Richard. When life became overwhelming, and you found it hard to walk through all the stress and struggles, he was there. A comfort. An anchor. Your source of strength.

“Oh, shit!” you cursed, checking your clock. He would be due in ten minutes and you hadn’t even vacuumed, prepared any food or washed any of your dishes and utensils. You dashed around the flat, spraying air freshener in the areas that required it, and then lit a festive candle that smelled of apple and cinnamon. As for food, what on earth would you cook? You’d forgot to call into the local supermarket on your way home.

The door knocked.

You took a deep inhale, checked yourself over in the mirror and then walked to the front door. Behind the frosted glass you could see his outline and it brought a smile to your face.

Richard looked at you as you opened the door and grinned. Immediately he embraced you. “I’ve missed you,” he said softly.

“I’ve missed you, too,” you replied sheepishly. “Come in,” you ushered.

He looked around the flat, smiling at your love of Christmas. The living room had a large tree in one corner, covered in gold and red tinsel, with twinkling lights shining through the branches. A candle arch was perched in your front window, stockings were hanging on your wall, toy snowmen and reindeers were positioned either side of your gas fire. A thought hit him: he wanted to have been able to decorate with you. He imagined you both laughing, twisting tinsel around each other and singing along to festive songs and wearing Christmas jumpers.

“How have you been?” Richard asked, sitting down on your sofa. You sat down in the accompanying armchair opposite.

“Work has been so busy and I forgot you were coming, so I didn’t get any food from the supermarket on my way home. I’m really sorry,” you said, rubbing your temples for emphasis. “It’s not much of an excuse, I know.”

“Sweet, it’s absolutely fine. I know your job can be stressful. Do you want to go out somewhere?”

“Yeah, if you want,” you replied, faking enthusiasm.

“I can tell you don’t want to,” Richard said with a smirk. “You’ve had a long day. I won’t stay too long.”

“No, please. I’m sorry,” you said again, feeling ashamed and guilty. “Stay as long as you want to. You can stay the night if you want to as you’ve come a long way to see me.”

A couple of minutes later and you moved into the kitchen to make drinks for yourself and Richard. You had agreed to drive to the supermarket shortly afterwards and pick up some food. You would be eating late, but you both had plenty of time to enjoy each other’s company.

By now and your mood was starting to pick up; both of you shared in chit chat about your week. Richard wrinkled his nose and laughed at the story of your colleague spewing up in your car. “Oh, it’s gets even better,” you giggled. “The other two I dropped off, Mark and Julie, are having an affair so I dropped them both off at Mark’s house and Julie’s husband later found out about it. My work is full of constant drama, seriously. Affairs, back stabbing, stealing. There’s always something going on. I keep myself out of it all. It’s like the saying in Madagascar, ‘smile and wave, boys. Smile and wave.’”

“It’s the best thing you can do. Don’t comment so no one can pull you into their rubbish,” Richard replied.

You never noticed Richard messing with something in his pocket. He was smirking as he pinned the item in your kitchen doorway. Proud of himself, Richard turned back to you, thankful that you hadn’t seen what he was doing. “What’s this?” he asked, drawing your attention away from what you were doing.

“Mmm?” you replied, shifting to stand beside him in the doorway. He was pointing upwards. Your gaze turned up to see a small sprig of mistletoe hanging from the wooden doorway.

Before being able to comprehend what was happening, Richard’s lips were against yours. The kiss was soft, delicate and gradually heat began to seep into it, drawing your bodies together. Richard’s arms curled around you, pulling you gently against his larger frame. He tasted and smelled divine. Aftershave wafted up your nose, and you couldn’t help but grab his shift and pull. Your movements were becoming more passionate as your hands delved into more intimate places such as backsides and breasts. A huge stab of doubt shot through you, like a rod of ice. You pulled away.

Both of you were breathing hard.

Richard watched in surprise as you backed away, and he noticed the question in your eyes.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long,” he said, his voice quiet. “I’m…in love with you.”

A wave of excitement crashed through your stomach, but it was soon taken over by that doubt once more. “You’re joking,” you replied. “This is just one huge joke.”

“Why the fuck would I joke about something like this?” Richard snapped; he could see the defensive nature of your stance and expression. His face contorted in anger and offence at your accusations of dishonesty.

“You don’t love me so don’t try and fool me into believing it,” you said again. Years of insecurity and mockery had caused you to build a mental and emotional dam in attempts to block out all the negativity and potential threats. And in that process, your trust had withered. There was barely any trust left inside you; everyone’s motives must be questioned because more than likely they were not in your best interests.

Richard’s eyes grew wide and he leaned towards you, his teeth bared. “Don’t you daretell me I do and don’t feel,” he growled. “I’ve been there for you every time you’ve needed someone; when everyone else has let you down, you’ve come to me. So, why the fuck would I choose to make a mockery of you?”

“You’re the same as everyone else,” you spat. “You try and gain my trust and then walk away…”

“Oh, grow the fuck up!” Richard shouted. “Not everyone out there wants to hurt you. Least of all, me. We’ve confided in each other, helped each other, but now as soon as I try and look to showing my true feelings, you close down on me. You need to learn how to stop treating people like they’re your enemy.”

Every word that Richard was speaking was true. You could not dispute the facts. He was correct. But that constant fear of rejection and mockery was chewing its way out of your gut.

“You won’t believe me, will you?” he asked.

“No,” you replied, a tear falling down your cheek.

In a flash, Richard was gone. Your front door slammed and he left you standing motionless, staring up at the mistletoe whilst tears streamed down your cheeks.

                                                         ***

Follow Forever tag list: @himoverflowers @shikin83 @theincaprincess @deepestfirefun @nowiloveandwilllove @houseofrahl​ @mynameisnoneya1991 @blankdblank @cd1242 @c-s-stars @thorins-magnificent-ass @patanghill17 @inumorph @leah-halliwell92 @msjava1972 @bespectacled-bunny @ghostlyandee @raindancer2004 @dottiechan @captain-almighty @hobbitlover23 @catthefearless @epicallychrissy @nelswp @adaliamalfoy @spn-obsession @armitageadoration @peneigh-dzredfohl @here2have-fun​ @greendragonette @thorinsraven @thophil2941btw @princessoferebor94​ @banlaochranda @wilhelmyna @gabrieleaquaman @rachel1959 @serpensortia06 @rcrispina @kategorically-challenged @tigereyesf @jumpingmanatee @tschrist1​ @inlovewithamantwicemyage @aspiringtranslator​ @princessofthefandomrealm @letsbeinspiredby @lilith15000 @lealina-scarsdale​ @scarsfanfictiontrash @mechromancing-cinnamon-roll @ra-of-light @jassy2101​ @durinsqueen @hariclea @onewithleaf @michelem703 @bthtallmadge2 @mariannetora​ @valuedabovehoardedgold @tiredwritersworld @xxbyimm @miabee0706 @fuck-off-you-stupid-goat @legolaslovely @meganlpie​ @dashesofink @buckysalefty @reignofglitter​

Richard Armitage tag list: @inkededucatednnerdy​ @birdkeeperklink​ @crazytxgradstudent​

[sorenmarie87]

Howlin’ for You

Summary: Winnie and you talk Garth into throwing a Halloween party, but when you can’t find Garth all night, you start worrying.  

Pairing(s)/Character(s): Garth x Reader, Sam x Eileen, Castiel, Dean, Charlie, Winnie (OFC) 

Word Count: 2,051 

Warning(s):  Lots of fluff.  Alcohol mentions.  Sexual comments.  

This is an extra chapter in the Anything For My Lady series.  It’s gonna make more sense if you’ve read it beforehand.  

A/N:  I need to thank @fictionalabyss and @coffee-obsessed-writer for all their help and listening to me ramble on about this story.  

I do not own any of the pictures used in my story aesthetic.  I found them on pinterest.  I also hate to say this but if you’re reading this fic - please be over 18.  

Forever Tags - @lovetusk @coffee-obsessed-writer@mirajanefairytailmage@kazosa@soythedemonqueen@docharleythegeekqueen@holyfuckloueh@ellen-reincarnated1967@ravenangel33 @buckyscrystalqueen@clockworkmorningglory@lefthologramdeer@disneymarina

SPN Tags - @underestimatemethatwillbefun @nyxveracity

You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup for your costume.  Halloween had always been one of your favorite holidays, and with the help of Winnie, you convinced Garth to let you throw a party.   Anyone else would find it strange - werewolves throwing a Halloween party with their Hunter friends but your family managed just fine.  There were never any urges to go out looking for human hearts - you lived off of animal hearts, so everyone would be safe.  

You heard tiny feet run into your room and with a smile you turned around to see Winnie.  “Mommy does this look right?”  You placed the brush down in front of the vanity, taking a glance at your daughter’s costume.  The three of you had binged on The Musketeers recently.  You were going as Constance, Garth was going as D’Artagnan of course, and Winnie decided to go as King Louie.  Her costume looked correct but there was something missing.  “You look fantastic your highness, but your hair is wrong.  Let’s fix that shall we?”  

Like her father, she loved whenever you would play with her hair.  However tonight - she was wearing a black wig to bring her costume together.  Plugging in the curling iron, you called her over to the seat in front of the vanity and waited for it to heat up.  

“Are Uncle Sam and Dean coming tonight?” Winnie asked as you worked on curling her hair.  

“Of course they are.  Uncle Sam is bringing a special friend with him, is that okay?”

“Does that mean I can't marry Uncle Sam when I grow up?”  You chuckled and paused.  

“I hate to tell you kiddo, but I think you might have to find someone else.”  Someone age appropriate, you thought to yourself as you watched her expression change in the mirror from disappointed to happy.

“As long as he's happy, I'm happy.”  She wiggled slightly and you had to remind her stay still.  You told her that she could downstairs once you were finished but she shook her head and clung to your side. “Wanna go together.”  You heard voices coming from downstairs and you felt Winnie take ahold of your hand.  

“Okay, let's go.”

--  

It had been an hour and you couldn't find your fiance.  Garth wouldn't just vanish, so you made your rounds.  Sam and Eileen were chatting with each other on the love seat.  She must've signed something inappropriate because you watched Sam's face turn beet red.  

You practically squealed in approval when they showed up.  Sam was dressed as Hercules, and Eileen was beside him as Meg.  You excitedly signed to Eileen that her costume was perfect and you watched as her cheeks flushed.  Cas arrived behind them and you giggled to yourself.

“Father Castiel, how are you doing?”

“My child, I am doing fine.”  You snorted and watched as Castiel gave a curt greeting to everyone he saw.  Both Sam and Eileen chuckled as they made their way into the house.

You smiled as Winnie ran over to Charlie and practically tackled her to the ground.  “What did we say Winnie?”

“Mama, she's my queen though.”  You watched as she sighed and Charlie smiled at the younger girl as she moved her into her lap. “It's fine, Y/N.”  

“You should see her when she hasn't seen the boys or her father in a while.”

“I can only imagine..”

“She doesn't look like much but that girl is super strong.”

--

“Y/N, hey Y/N…”  You turned around and Dean was standing there with a glass of scotch in his hand.  You got a good look at his costume, and you snorted.  He was in a solid black suit with a matching tie and you let out a low whistle.  

“Looking good there, Winchester.”  He grinned as he stepped further into the light and his usual sandy blonde hair was pitch black.  “I hope that isn't permanent.”  

“God no… “  You chuckled as he ran his free hand through his hair.  

“Hey Dean, by chance have you seen Garth?”  He took a sip from his glass and shrugged.  “Thanks for nothing.”  

--

Winnie was passed out on the couch so you picked her up and took her upstairs where it was quiet.  You laid her down in your bed and sat down beside her.  “Where is your father Winnie?” You brushed a stray curl away from her face and sighed.  As she flipped over, he wig started to come off.  You chuckled to yourself and took a picture before something caught your eye.  There was a garment bag hanging from the closet door with a post it on it.  You smiled at Garth’s handwriting but raised an eyebrow.  ‘Put me on and meet me in the backyard.’  You gasped as you unzipped the bag and peeked inside.  

The dress was beautiful.  It had a deep sweetheart neckline with spaghetti straps and a fitted waistline that flows into an intricately beaded lace overlay with a floor length skirt.  You were trying to remove your costume as quietly as you could but you were having some trouble.  “Mama, do you need some help?”  You glanced over your shoulder at Winnie and laughed to yourself.

“Mama’s arms are kind of short, so I can’t reach the zipper.  Think you can unzip me?”  Winnie nodded as she wiped her eyes and carefully made it to the end of the bed.  Her little fingers fumbled at first, but when you heard the zipper going down, she smiled.  “Thank you Winnie.”  She watched as you slid the dress off and it pooled at your feet.  You carefully remove the new dress from the hanger, unzipping it first and carefully slide into.  Winnie helps zip your dress and kisses your cheek once she’s finished.  

“You look beautiful mama, but I need to go change now..”  She jumps off the bed and practically rushes out of the room.  With the door left wide open,  Charlie peeks in with a giggle.  

“I thought you might need some help, but I guess Winnie took care of everything.”  You chuckled as she entered your bedroom, closing the door behind her.  

“Well not everything.”  You smoothed down the front of your dress and made sure everything was in the right place.  “How’s my makeup?”  Charlie reapplied some light pink lipstick and looked you over once again.

“Looking good mama.  However…”  She moved behind you and unpinned your hair.  You watched her in the mirror as your hair cascaded over your shoulders.  “There we go.  Garth is one lucky man.”  

“He really is.”  

“Okay, you ready?”  The two of you made it into the hallway as Winnie ran past you in a hurry.  ‘Sorry mama!’  You heard her call out and you chuckled.  Dean was waiting at the top of the stairs with a grin on his face.  “You look beautiful sweetheart.  Garth won’t know what hit him.”  He winked and extended his arm out to you.  “I know it’s usually the father’s bride who walks her down the aisle but…”

“I’m actually grateful it’s you and not my father..”  He was the reason you were a werewolf in the first place.  He was also the reason your mother wouldn’t be here either.  You shook your head, trying to get rid of the negative thoughts as you made your way towards the patio doors.  As you put your hand on the door handle, Dean stopped you from opening it.  He handed you a bouquet of Fall colored flowers and smiled.  

“On three, okay Y/N?”  You heard him count to three, as the two of you opened the doors, your jaw dropped.  How did Garth have time to do this?  Sam, Eileen, Charlie, and Winnie were each holding a little jack o lantern that lit up as you walked up the aisle towards Garth and Castiel, who you found out was officiating the wedding.  

Dean released you from his arm with a kiss on the cheek and Garth took your hand into his.

“I was not expecting to do this tonight but we are gathered here tonight to join Y/N and Garth in holy matrimony.  Garth has prepared something special for Y/N, in place of vows.”

“Thank you Castiel.”  You smiled as Garth took hold of your other hand.  “Y/N, there is no doubt that I love you, I mean I have loved you since we were kids.  We have an amazing daughter and a life together that I wouldn't trade for anything.”  You met his eye and he smiled.  “You are the only one for me, everyone would agree.  I will spend the rest of my days loving you, and our children - however many we have.  You make my life so much better.”

You felt him wipe away a tear and he smiled at you, his own eyes misty.  “I love you too.”

“Get on with it!”

“Put a cork in it Unca Dean!”

“Okay Garth, do you take Y/N to be your wife?”

“I do.”  You watched as he slipped a band that matched your engagement ring onto your ring finger.

“Do you Y/N, take Garth to be your husband?”

“I do.”  Winnie pressed something into your hand and you thanked her.  You slipped the ring onto Garth's finger and grinned.

“With the power invested me by Heaven and my father, I now pronounce you husband and wife.  Garth, you may now kiss your bride.”  The kiss only last a few seconds, but as soon as the two of you broke apart, Winnie ran up to the two of you and almost knocked you over.

“Mama, can I spend the night at Aunt Charlie’s ?”

“You don't want to stay with Uncle Dean for the night?” She shook her head and the two of you chuckled.  “Aunt Charlie can watch you, but only if she says yes, okay?”

‘'Kay!”  

You knew this playlist and you laughed as Howlin’ for You started playing.  Garth wrapped his arms around your waist and the two of you swayed along with the beat.  You felt his mouth right by your ear and you blushed as he told you what he was planning after everyone left.  The song changed and Winnie pulled Garth away to dance, and when Dean approached and asked for a dance, you agreed.  

“I never thought I would see the day when Dean Winchester asks for a dance.”  He spun you in a circle and pulled you back in.  His hand was resting on your back and you grinned.

“This is a special case.”  He looked away from you and you heard a low chuckle coming from him.  You watched Sam and Eileen dance in the corner, and even Charlie and Cas were swaying along to the music.  It was your turn to chuckle and it warmed your heart as your eyes landed on Garth and Winnie.  She was standing on top of his feet as the music played on.  “So any special plans for tonight?”

“You know damn well what’s going to go on after all of you leave.”  You wanted to stop there but your mouth and brain decided against it.  “I’m going to tap him like a maple tree, Dean.”  

“Gross, why did I even ask that..”  Dean blanched pulled away and you chuckled.  

“YOU ASKED WINCHESTER, remember that!”  You wrapped your arms around his neck and pull him back towards you.  “Hey Dean?”  

“What?”  

“Garth is going to put piece A into slot B and repeat vigorously.  There’s going to be so much going on tonight that I won’t know where I end and Garth begins.  We are going to hump like bunnies…”

“Stop, for the love of God just stop.”  

“You started this train Dean and guess what?  The fuck train has no breaks.”

“PHRASING Y/N.”  You kissed Dean on the cheek with a giggle after the song ended and made your way back over to Garth.  There weren’t many guests but when one trickled out, the rest went with them.  Charlie had Winnie’s overnight bag on her shoulders and Winnie made sure to get a hug and kiss from the two of you before they took off.  

“Alone at last, Mr. Fitzgerald.  What should we do?”  

“How’s about I carry you upstairs and show you, Mrs. Fitzgerald?”  

[winsister91]

Finally?

A/N: Okay, I think I done fucked up here and wrote something different to what you intended because I’m dumb! I knew I’d changed the scenario a bit but after re-reading the ask, I think I completely misinterpreted it lmao! I’m sorry but I’m not starting again! The general almost gist is there right?

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean

Warnings: Implied smut, language, fluff? crack?

Word Count: 1259

My Masterlist!

~ Sam and forever tags are open! ~

Tags at the bottom and mostly taken from @spnfanficpond Sam list. Get in touch if you wanna be added or removed!

A loud bang from next door wakes you. You jolt up hastily in your bed, sleepy fog clouding your brain. It takes you a moment to remember you're in a motel and not your room in the bunker. Sam laid sound asleep in the single bed next to yours, undeterred by the noise. His and your laptops lay open on the table in the centre of the room. Books were strewn across the floor. You were having no luck working out what this damn creature was, so decided to call it a night and try again in the morning with refreshed and rested minds.

More banging and crashing next door, this time Sam did awake and sit up, his tight white t-shirt and scuffed bed hair just visible in the small amount of light.

“What the hell?” he groans, rubbing his eyes.

“It's coming from Dean's room...” you yawn, “Sounds like he just got back...”

You reach for your phone on the bedside table and click the screen on, the blaring light taking your eyes by surprise and making you wince. It was 3am, you'd managed maybe an hours worth of light sleep.

“Should we check on him?” you ask the younger Winchester. “I wouldn't,” Sam grumbles, like he knew something you didn't.

Right on cue, laughter could be heard next door, both male and female.

“Huh,” you huff, “Someone got distracted when scouting the locals for info at the bar then...”

“Are you honestly surprised?”

You sigh deeply, of course you weren't surprised. The laughter next door silenced, replaced now with moans.

“Oh god...” you whine, grimacing.

Sam doesn't reply, but rubs his forehead with embarrassment.

Banging started again next door. The familiar thud and squeaks of a creaky bed hitting the wall. The precise wall that separated your room from his.

You groan again childishly, dropping back to the mattress violently and tightly gripping the pillow around your head to blot out the noise.

Dean's lady friend sounded like she was having a swell time, her moans becoming over the top screams of pleasure, calling out his name and wailing with the full force of her lungs.

“IS HE FUCKING SERIOUS!?” you snap, roaring hysterically as you sit back up and punch at the wall, “Knock it off you pair of sluts!!!”

Nothing changes, if anything the volume somehow increases. You clench your eyes shut, gritting your teeth and trying to not let the red mist descend. The rustling sound of movement from Sam's direction grabs your attention. Opening one eye, you see him getting out of bed, throwing on a shirt and heading back to his laptop.

“What are you doing?” you question.

“Well I'm not listening to that,” he remarks, plugging some headphones into laptop's jack, “Might as well carry on where I left off.”

You whimper, throwing your head back with a light thud against the wall behind you. The realisation that you can now feel the vibrations from that pair next door's shenanigans is too much to bear. You reluctantly follow Sammy’s suit, finding your way back over to your computer and plugging in some headphones of your own. You pick out your loudest heavy rock playlist, hoping the sound of blaring guitars is enough to drown them two out as well as keep you awake.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Hours passed. Every now and then you would tentatively remove one earbud to see if the 'action' was over. You gave up trying after the fifth attempt. Researching with Sam was a regular occurrence. You had your habits that you'd developed together while doing so. You'd take it in turns to go fetch coffee, laugh and share when you'd accidentally stumbled on not so legit lore sites, take breaks and check each other's internet history to see whose laptop Dean had stolen for a porn fix. The idle chit-chat was what made it though. You and Sam could just sit and talk all matter of subjects for days if given the opportunity. The research would probably get done a lot faster if you focused more on that. That's what made this particular session all the more torturous, besides Dean's sexual gorilla grunts echoing from next door. You couldn't talk. You had heavy guitar murdering your eardrums, and you suspected Sam was no doubt listening to some form of educational history podcast. He was such a nerd, but you thought it was cute.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

As more time dragged past, you felt the fatigue begin to hit. Sleep deprivation made your eyes tired,  the harsh light from the computer screen made them ache. Your ears were no doubt going to start bleeding soon from the loud music attacking them. Not to mention you were bored. So damn bored. The lack of interaction was mind-numbing, time to rectify this. You brought up your email, and proceeded to send Sam a message.

I'm bored.

You notice the change in colour to the light reflecting onto Sam's clothes, confirming he'd received your whiny note. You got a reply.

Ditto.

I'm making Dean's life hell today, just so you know. I need my beauty sleep dammit!

No objections here! What are you planning?

I haven't thought that far ahead...

Sam looked over the top of his screen at you. A mischievous twinkle in those hazel eyes. You raise an inquisitive eye and wear a curious smile. You observe as he slowly removes his headphones, and expresses a sigh of relief. You remove yours too, to be met with wondrous silence.

“At last!” you cheer, “I need sleeeeep.”

“Bit late for that now really,” Sam grimaces, flashing his phone screen at you to reveal it was now 10am.

“Damn you Dean Winchester,” you grumble sulkily shooting a glare at the wall he resided behind, “I at least need coffee then. Shall I do a run?”

“First,” he smiles, swishing a pointed finger through the air, “Got an idea.”

You narrow your eyes with slight suspicion, watching him head towards one of the beds and grab the rail at the bottom of it. He pulls the bed back and slams it hard into the wall.

“Whoa!” you jump, “What the hell Sammy?”

“Ugh!” he groans loudly, “Oh, Y/N!”

You choke on a laugh, not quite believing what you're seeing. You hastily join his side, grabbing the bed and aiding him in crashing it into the wall.

“Sammy!” you squeal dramatically, “Oh god! Please! Deeper! Faster!”

The immaturity continues, the both of you stifling childish laughs as you slam the bed harder and shout with all the gusto you have. Soon enough, you're putting so much effort and energy into it, you were getting hot and sweaty like the real deal, minus the tears of laughter.

“Sam!” you cry enthusiastically, “I'm so close! Oh! Ah!”

Finally, a noise from next door, the door slamming. You quickly bring a finger to your lips, gesturing to Sam to be quiet and you both fall into silence, shoulder's shaking wildly from trying to hold back your laughs. What sounds like fists start thumping on your room's door, followed by Dean's raised voice.

“Guys!!” he blares, “I mean...finally and all that but c'mon! Some consideration for others please!!”

You're practically biting your fist, mortified at his hypocrisy. After a few moments, you hear the next room's door slam once again.

“Can you believe him?” you titter, gasping for breath from all the laughter.

“Unfortunately yes,” Sam chuckles wiping tears from his eyes.

“But er...” you shuffle on your feet, “What d'ya think he meant by... 'finally'?”

Tags!

@manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @blushingsamgirl @notnaturalanahi @bkwrm523 @whispersandwhiskerburn @roxy-davenport @impala-dreamer @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @frenchybell @scorpiongirl1 @for-the-love-of-dean @mysupernaturalfics @spn-fan-girl-173 @deandoesthingstome @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @fiveleaf @deansleather @curliesallovertheplace@whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @waywardjoy @mrswhozeewhatsis @captain-princess-rose @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles@idreamofhazel @wevegotworktodo @ilovedean-spn2 @babypieandwhiskey @wi-deangirl77 @deantbh @supermoonpanda @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67@memariana91 @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @writingbeautifulmen @revwinchester @ageekchiclife @your-average-distracted-waffle @drarina1737@lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @castieltrash1@supernaturalyobessed  @mysaintsasinner @ohwritever @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons  @maraisabellegrey @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @bohowitch @clueless-gold @melbelle45 @winchester-family-business @4401lnc @sofreddie @sis-tafics  @chelsea072498 @ria132love @untitled39887 @chicagolove88

[jayankles]

He’s My Prince

Pairing: Disneyland Prince!Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 1515

Summary: An AU where Jensen is a Disneyland Prince and the reader’s niece is totally in love with his character and it might just lead to something more between you and him.

A/N – This is my submission for @teamfreewill-imagine Jamie’s 21st Jobs Celebration, with the job: Disneyland Prince, sorry I couldn’t get it out on your birthday.

��Are we there yet, Auntie Y/N?’ Your seven year old niece had asked from beside you, in the car.

‘Not yet, my little Aurora,’ you replied, both hands on the wheel, checking the directions on your phone, telling you that you had a little over an hour to get there, to Disneyland! ‘I bet you if you took a nap, we’d be there a lot quicker besides it dark now and the park will be closed. Your mama will kill me if she finds out you’re up past your bedtime anyway.’

Sparing a glance over at her, you saw that her eyes were beginning to droop but it seemed that she was refusing to listen to you, turning up the song, which happened to be from the Disney playlist that you complied together.

The rap from Moana - You’re Welcome – sounding through the car; you wish you knew it off by heart but the little one beat you to it, belting it out at the top of her lungs.

‘I can’t, I’m excited.’ She wiggled in her seat, accentuating her point.

You were just as excited as Aurora was, maybe even more so. Just because you were older than her doesn’t mean you have to act like it when you were around something you loved.

‘Rory, I promise, Prince Phillip will be there tomorrow. If you go to sleep now we’ll go as soon as it opens in the morning, after breakfast, obviously.’

‘But, Y/N! What if Prince Phillip isn’t there?! What if he doesn’t love me?!’

She shifted in her seat, grappling at your leg and shaking it in her little hands. Quickly, you covered hers and gave it a comforting squeeze. ‘Aww, baby. How could he not love you? You are his princess aren’t you? You are Princess Aurora, right?’

‘I guess so.’

‘You are, Rory. Now go to sleep, we’ll find your Prince tomorrow.’

Finally, she listened to you, laying her head in you lap, using your thighs as pillows. When her eyes fluttered to a close you turned the volume down so that you could faintly hear it, over her soft snores that was.

Thankfully, with less traffic than anticipated, you got to the hotel within the theme park. You found a parking space quite close to the entrance.

You tried to carry as much of your bags as you could, Aurora’s bag was on your back and you pulled up the handle of your own suitcase, getting it ready so all you had to do was grab it and walked as it rolled with you.

‘Aurora. Rory, sweetie, wake up.’ You slightly shook her but she didn’t budge, curling into the seat more awkwardly. You grabbed your cross body handbag from the backseat and hooked it over you, making your way to the front, unplugging your niece from the car and holding her in your arms.

You signed in quickly and graciously took the keycard from them, the bell dinging as the receptionist called for the bell boy.

The bell boy, aptly named Esteban, helping you with your luggage as you carried the sleeping child to your room. Thank god for him, otherwise you would have gotten lost or fallen over by carrying too much.

He showed you to your room and you handed him a five dollar bill, it wasn’t a hefty tip but it was the first thing you could get to.

Esteban left the room with a nod and you quietly thanked him once again, aware that any loud noises of rapid motions could wake Aurora.

With a skill you recently acquired, you used your foot to pull back the covers of the double bed and set her down, leaving her in her clothes from the day on her, not wanting to wake her.

You tucked her in, kissing her forehead before unzipping your suitcase and finding any pair of pajamas in there.

Thankfully, you packed your toothbrush and toothpaste were in your bag as well as your phone. Whilst brushing your teeth, you sent a text of to your sister and her husband, letting them know that you and their child was safe and alive and at the right destination.

Crawling into the bed behind your niece, you flicked off the light, collapsing onto the pillow and almost instantly falling asleep.

You woke up, not on your own accord, of course. Your excited niece bouncing next to you, a foot each side of your hips, moving your body from side to side.

‘Rory,’ you whined, throwing an arm over your closed eyes. Any bets you had to place, you’d say it was six in the morning, or earlier.

Aurora dropped so that she was straddling you, landing with a thump and extracting a groan from you. ‘Aunt Y/N/N, we gotta get breakfast, then we gotta get dressed and then we have to go see Prince Phillip, before anyone else sees him.’

You reassure her once again, through a tickle fight and a few giggles, her little mind not understanding that the Prince would be in the park for a while and that she would get other opportunities to take her to see him.

After the little debacle, you checked your phone on the bedside table, the time not far off from what you originally thought – 6:17am - she agreed to get another hour sleep.

Although you felt her wiggle next to you, she didn’t wake you until gone past 7:30. Since Aurora was still in her clothes from yesterday, you threw on a pair of sweatpants and went down to eat your breakfast so you could change later.

You decided to grab some eggs on toast while Aurora wanted a small stack of pancakes that she wanted to drench in maple syrup.

Aurora had devoured her breakfast and enthusiastically encouraged you to quicken your own eating pace. As requested, you shoved the rest of the toast into your mouth before you put the plates on the trays with the other dirty dishes.

You were adjusting her pink dress one last time and placing the plastic crown on her head before you moved on to dress yourself and finished off your Rapunzel inspired look by adorning your butterfly purse.

‘You ready to go Rory?’ You asked checking the time, the park was about to open.

She squealed and clapped her hands. Oh, yeah. She was totally ready to go.

With a quick search of your bag, you and your excited niece were inside the park, grabbing a map and headed straight for the EPCOT section of the park, albeit a little longer than expected (because you got lost a few times along the way).

When Aurora set eyes on the back of Prince Phillip’s head, she let go of your hand and rushed towards him, her little heels clicking along the concrete.

‘Rory! Aurora! Slow down, he’s still going to be there!’

‘But Aunt Y/N, he’s my prince!’ She replied just as loud, especially with the distance put between you.

The prince turned around and shot a killer smile to the child barreling towards him, bowing to her.

‘My Princess. What is your name?’ His striking green eyes, which should have been brown, staring into her purple ones. Her name aptly given to her as your sister saw the changes of her eye colour after she was born. Blue to purple.

She placed her hands on either side of his face and you were quick to rush forward and apologise for her behaviour but he shook his head and resumed his acting as the handsome prince.

‘Aurora.’ She giggled. ‘That’s why you’re my prince.’

The prince looked at up at you for conformation and you just nodded.

‘Yep, that’s really her name.’ You whispered.

His interaction with her was adorable, he acted as if they were in the movie and when she asked him to dance with her he stood at lightning speed, telling her to step on his toes as they twirled and spun around in circles. You pulled out your phone, setting it up to record and pointing it at them.

When they were out of breath and laughing, the prince bowed and Aurora curtsied, squealing once more as she ran the short distance to you.

‘Rory, did you say thank you to Prince Phillip?’

She shook her head and you led her back to the prince.

‘Thank you, Prince Phillip!’

He clenched both of his hands into fists, one arm going in front and the other behind his back, tilting his head forward as he bowed again. ‘You’re Welcome, Princess Aurora.’

The prince then turned to you, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles, he moved his head to kiss your cheek then whispered in your ear, ‘call me Jensen.’

When Jensen pulled away, he directed his next words to the both of you. ‘I hope to see you both around here soon.’

‘Oh don’t worry, you will, Prince Phillip.’

This was going to be a good holiday. You and Aurora were definitely going to see more of Prince Jensen.

Lemme know what you think…

@thorne93  @becaamm @jotink78 @love-kittykat21 @jensen-jarpad @capsheadquaters  @kurosaki224-new-blog @supernatural-jackles @cyrilconnelly  @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @iwantthedean @ruprecht0420 @mrswhozeewhatsis @feelmyroarrrr @mogaruke @pureawesomeness001 @mizzezm @jpadjackles @jesspfly @urpeachess  @skybinx-blog @deansbaekaz2y5 @plaidstiel-wormstache @lilasiannerd  @valerieshubin @be-amaziing @akshi8278 @purplediamon @graceforme86  @its-my-perky-nipples @nervousmemzie @percussiongirl2017  @oneshoeshort @whit85-blog @emoryhemsworth @reallyverynodansi  @milo-winchester-4ever @captainradicalpassion @captainemwinchester  @ilsawasanacrobat @alicat-life @cojootromuelle @essie1876 @dancingalone21 @iamabeautifulperson18 @dslocum89 @atc74  @superwhomerlockinuum @spnbaby-67 @anitalasirenita @queencflair  @weasleywinchester-blog @ria132love @spn-fan-girl-173 @nightlyinsomnious  @easelweasel @misticty @grace-for-sale

[georgialouisea]

Shattered

Characters - Dean, Sam, Harry (omc). Word Count - 809 Warnings -  Swearing, mentions of cheating.  Summary -  A/N -  I’ve had this idea in my head for about a month.

Upset? No, you were beyond pissed. Pulling into the bunker’s garage you were so relieved to see the Impala gone. You could now do whatever the hell you needed to in peace. The process started with you slamming the door of your car and the bunker’s door. Walking through the bunker you could hear music, you weren't alone after all. As you entered the library Dean was sat with his feet up on the table going through police reports on his laptop and listening to his playlist on repeat.

“Hey what are you doing here?” Dean’s brow furrowed as he turned to look at you. Ignoring him you walked past to the kitchen, returning with your arms full of mugs and plates you put them on the table next to him. “What the hell are you doing?” He questioned as he looked at you, sighing you left him once again in search of the rest of the things you’d need. When you walked back into the library he was sat in the same chair, feet on the floor and his laptop closed on the table. He watched in pure confusion as you returned with a baseball bat and two pairs of goggles.

“Come on.” You smiled as you handed him a pair of goggles. Sure you probably looked like a crazy woman in your little black dress and heels with a baseball bat.

“What’s happened?” He asked as he stood up taking the goggles from you.

“I’ll tell you when the urge to smash things is gone.”

“Okay, let’s go to the firing range because if we do this in here Sam will kill us.”

When you reached the bunker’s range you were glad you had it.

“So now what?” Dean asked as he put the plates and cups down. Walking into the middle of the range you shrugged.

“Throw something at me.”

“What?”

“Do it.”

“Fine but as soon as one of us gets hurt this ends.”

“Fine by me.” You smirked as Dean grabbed a cup and launched it at you, with a swing you shattered it shards flying across the room reaching Dean’s feet.

You had no idea how long you’d spent smashing things but the pile of plates and mugs you’d brought was enough for a solid 20 minutes of smashing things. Sam walked in just as you hit a plate, the shards littered every inch of the floor.

“What the hell are you two doing?”

“Y/N wanted to smash things, so …”

“Why?”

“Well when you decide to surprise your boyfriend of six months who is ‘working late’ with a home cooked dinner, then let yourself into his place to cook said dinner and find him fucking your best friend on the couch you kind of need to kill someone or smash things. I like you and Dean so I had to smash things.”

‘Well shit.” Dean looked at you then Sam. “One plate left, make it count.” Dean drew your attention back to him as Sam backed out of the room so he could watch but keep a safe distance. “Ready?”

“Bring it, Winchester.” You flexed your hand on the bat as he got ready to throw. Hell, you made it count as you imagined it was Harry’s head, the plate disintegrated as your bat made contact with it. You watched as Dean flinched before he wiped his hand over his cheek blood pouring from it. “Dean …” You dropped the bat and ran to him, your heels crunching over the broken porcelain.

“I’m okay.”

“No you’re not, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you needed to vent it’s fine.”

“Come on let’s get a drink and get you sorted out.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He smiled at you, as he did blood poured from his cheek.

“Come on before you get blood everywhere.” You urged him to follow you.

“Y/N, he didn’t deserve you.”

“Thanks, Dean.”

After showering burning a few things Harry had given you, you ventured out to find Dean and check up on him. His door was open as you peeked your head around it you saw him sat against the headboard with his legs stretched out before him, his laptop on his lap.

“Hey,” He smiled at you as you took a step into the room.

“Why are you so happy?”

“Well, Harry’s savings may or may have not just been donated to the local animal shelter and a few women’s charities, ya know because he sucks.”

“You didn’t.” You looked at him wide-eyed as a smile began to form on your face.

“He deserves it, want to watch a film?”

“Yeah, I'll go get us a beer, you pick the movie.” You turned and headed towards the kitchen, bumping into Sam on the way.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah I am Sammy, I think I’m honestly going to be okay.”

Forever Taglist - @mega-loser1298  @smalltowndivaj @roxyspearing

Dean Taglist - @akshi8278 @awesomestperson22 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester

Taglist from SPN pond- @dr-dean @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @nichelle-my-belle @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @notnaturalanahi @impala-dreamer @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess  @spn-fan-girl-173 @deansleather  @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname  @waywardjoy @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles @wevegotworktodo @jpadjackles @quiddy-writes @babypieandwhiskey @deantbh  @deanwinchesterforpromqueen  @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @plaidstiel-wormstache @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx  @revwinchester  @castieltrash1  @supernaturalyobessed  @ruined-by-destiel  @winchester-writes  @maraisabellegrey  @faith-in-dean  @winchestersmolder  @bennyyh @clueless-gold @deanwinchesterxreader @winchester-family-business  @4401lnc

@mrswhozeewhatsis Taglist Dean -

@thinkwritexpress-official  @itsemmyb  @ezauraemmaline @charliesbackbitches @crzcorgi @ellen-reincarnated1967  @littlegreenplasticsoldier @gryffindorable713 @deerlululucy @walkingencyclopediaoffandom @growleytria @thegleegeneration @samtomydeanwinchester @i-never-said-a-pilot @sis-tafics @amaranthinecastiel @fandommaniacx @meganwinchester1999 @kittenofdoomage @samanddeanwinchester67 @ferferelli @lilyoflothlorien  @iridianuniverse @the-morning-star-falls  @ackleslaugh @fangirling-instead-of-working  @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @kayteonline  @spnsimpleman  @mamaimpala  @winchesterfiesta @zanthiasplace @wildfirewinchester @sleep-silent-angel @gadreelsforbiddenfruit @trenchcoats-and-bees @jencharlan @skybinx-blog @thebunkerismyhome @feelmyroarrrr @beachy2014 @fandom-book-nerd @tia58 @sams-little-toy @deansleather @faegal04 @sunriserose1023 @saving-things-hunting-family @winchesterswoonathon @jotink78 @lucifer-in-leather @i-dont-know-how-to-write @everyday-supernatural-af @notnaturalanahi @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave @babypieandwhiskey @besslincoln-bruh @shelovesallthethings @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish  @hexparker @atwistoffate @evilskank-inthemegacoven @there-must-be-a-lock

[winchesterprincessbride]

The Song Remains the Same

This was written for week #19 of the fantabulous @thing-you-do-with-that-thing SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge. I am using the trope damsel not in distress and ends up saving the day.

 A/N: This story idea has been kicking around in my head for a while now, and it kinda sorta fits the prompt if you use your imagination so here goes. (I’m taking some liberties, I’ll admit.)

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel Novak, Meg Masters, Reader Balthazar (mentioned)

Stanford, California 2007

Dean was gonna blow.  It was obvious to everyone around him.  It was just a matter of time.  Patience was not his strong suit, and Balthazar had kept them waiting for over an hour.

“I say he loses it in three….two….” Cas whispered to Sam.

“Meg!” Dean bellowed. “Get out here! Where the hell is he?”

Meg Masters, Castiel’s long-suffering girlfriend, and the band’s sort-of unpaid manager came stomping into the room.  “That stupid fuck!” She shrieked.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Cas asked, trying to console her.

“Balthazar got busted with a buttload of coke.  He violated his parole.  He’s being deported.” Meg said through gritted teeth.

Dean threw his mike across the room.  “Wonderful, just fucking wonderful! We finally have our big break, and now we don’t have a drummer!” Dean looked ready to have an aneurism.

Sam, ever the calmer of the brothers, looked at Meg to solve this problem as she did every other one that came up.

Two years ago, Sam and Cas had met in class at Stanford and had discovered their love of music and decided to form a band.  Sam played the bass, and Cas was a classically trained pianist who also dabbled in keyboards.

Sam was an okay singer, but his older brother Dean was a great one, so he recruited him.  Dean worked as a mechanic so it didn’t take much convincing.  Meg knew a guy named Balthazar who agreed to play drums, but he was hard to control.  He liked drugs, he liked women, and he liked not showing up for stuff.

After two years of playing the college circuit, “The Hunters” had built up a rabid following, mainly due to the guys' looks and charisma.  They had started to really make a name for themselves, and when they were booked to headline the Greek Week festival, things really started looking up.

When Meg had gotten a call that a representative from Death Siren Records was coming to the concert to hear them play, Sam had started to think that maybe they could make it as musicians.  He was barely going to class anymore anyway.  All they needed was their big break, and he would finally make the move and drop out.

He didn’t want to be a lawyer anyway.  He wanted to be a rock star.  Cas had music swimming around in his head 24/7.  Being in a band and writing their music helped him put some of his creativity on paper, and kept him happy.  He didn’t care if he ever went back to school.  

Dean wanted it all.  The money.  The women.  The power.  The adoration.  No one was going to tell him he was just a lowly mechanic anymore.

Meg just wanted them to succeed.  They were her ticket to bigger and better things.  And she was in it for the long haul.

“So where are we gonna find a drummer who can learn our material by Saturday?” Sam asked out loud, shaking his head.

“Let’s break for tonight.  We’re obviously not getting anything done.  Let’s meet back here tomorrow, same time.  And hopefully, I’ll have come up with a solution.  Try not to destroy anything, okay, Dean?” Meg snapped as she snatched up her purse and stalked out.

The next night, everyone had arrived except Meg. She had a late class and had told Cas she could be coming after.  

“She said she might have found us a drummer.  That they were coming by to audition for us.” Cas said happily. “I knew Meg would come through.  She always does.”

“Yeah, but we don’t just need a drummer. We need a great drummer that can learn our whole playlist in 3 days, Cas.” Dean grumbled.

They just hung out, waiting, and when the door opened, three pairs of eyes took in the petite girl that entered.  She looked lost.

“This is a private rehearsal, Sweetheart,” Dean told her in his flirty way.

You rolled your eyes at him. “No kidding! The instruments weren’t a dead giveaway or anything.  I’m looking for Meg.  Is she here?”

Sam jumped down from the stage.  “Can we help you with something?”

“I hear you guys are looking for a drummer?” You asked, giving him the once-over.  Damn, he was tall!

Dean sauntered over to you.  “You are a drummer?” He said doubtfully.

“What’s wrong, handsome? Never seen a girl play the skins before?” You snapped, and he bristled.

Before Dean could say something rude Sam spoke.  “How about you play something for us?” Sam requested.

“Sure. I can do that.”  Just as you pulled out your sticks Meg rushed in.  “Sorry I’m late, guys.  Oh hey, Y/N.  You found it!”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure the Ken doll can handle a female drummer, Meg.”

Dean opened his mouth to protest but Meg just held up a finger.  “Not one word, Dean.  Not until you’ve heard her.  She sings too.”

“Oh really?” Dean said with a raised eyebrow.

Cas smiled at you.  “I’m looking forward to hearing you, play, Y/N.”

You sat down at the drums and took a minute to get yourself comfortable.

They were all staring at you intently, so you just pretended they weren’t there.  You decided to go with “In the Air Tonight” because you felt it was a good song for both your voice and your drumming.

You could have heard a pin drop by the time you were done.  You hadn’t missed a single note, and your voice sounded perfect, even to you.

Cas looked like he wanted to hug you.  “That was amazing!” He said with a smile.

Sam looked stunned like he was seeing the drums played for the first time.  “Wow.  That was pretty impressive.  How long have you been playing?”

“Since I was nine.” You replied with a shrug.  

“It shows.”

“Well, Dean.  I’m sure you have something to say, so out with it.” Meg snapped.

Dean looked you up and down. “Can you dress more like a girl? Like I don’t know, maybe a skirt or something? You're hot, show it off.”

You glared at him. “You try straddling a kit in a skirt. No one tells me what to wear, dude.  It seems to me you need me right now more than I need you.  So what’s it gonna be?”

(Part 2)

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[notnaturalanahi]

Movie night

Characters/Pairing: Sam x Reader, Dean (mentioned)

Word count: 1001

Warings: None

A/N: @queen-of-deans-booty said,  What about a Drabble with Dean or Sam, and he finds the reader in one of his shirts and he asks "is that my shirt?" And he likes it better on you than on him and it's fluffy? I hope this inspires you or something :)

I chose Sam because of this crisis I’m going through and sisnce I’m not going down alone I’m bringing @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname with me and @plaidstiel-wormstache because of Fitzwilliam.

Wanna join my tag list? Also some feedback would be awesome!

Movie night

The microwave bell rang letting you know the popcorns were ready, inside your room you were stripping down from your jeans and tight t-shirt to slip into something more comfortable. Which meant something from that forgotten pile of ginormous shirts and flannels you found in the laundry room. The whole bundle had been there since before you moved into the bunker, so one day you decided to throw it into the washer and keep what you liked in you room to use mostly as nightshirts and some, the ones worn thing you tore and used as rags.

Humming along your random playlist on Spotify you picked a big grey long sleeves sort of V neck, it had a little single button which made it kind of a Henley so you decided it must've been Dean's. After removing your bra from under the shirt you took a pair of fluffy pink socks from your drawer, the ones with some plastic pattern on the base that made them anti-slip, perfect to run around inside the bunker.

And just like that you were ready for a lazy saturday afternoon/night; the boys left for the weekend to get gun supplies and some other stuff a few towns over. Running to the kitchen you tried the anti-slip of your socks by doing the Risky Business scene, it did not go that well. The base of the socks held onto the marble and you almost flew across the room. Luckily you were alone, so no one laughed at you. A few minutes later you were out of the kitchen with your popcorn, a beer and your bag of candies, the one stashed in your room so Dean would not find it and just like a kid stealing cookies before dinner you walked into Sam’s room. He had the biggest bed and his laptop was way faster than yours, probably because he didn’t browsed shitty porn sites like normal people.

With the computer at your feet and the bowl of popcorn next to you went into netflix trying to find something interesting and new to watch and oh surprise after 20 unsuccessful minutes you ended up clicking on Pride and Prejudice, again. But who could blame you, right?

Your mouth moved along Elizabeth Bennet lines as she and Mr Darcy shelter from the pouring rain under the massive pergola and just as you were shouting at dumb Fitzwilliam to kiss her and take her under the rain and tossing burnt popcorn to the little screen Sam’s door opened,  you panicked, but only for a second.

“Jeez, it’s just me,” Sam laughed pulling a burnt kernel off his hair and then dusting the rest of the handful you tossed him from his massive chest.

“I’m sorry!” You knelt on the bed. “You scared me and I didn’t have my gun…”

“You were gonna shoot me?” his eyes widened.

“Again, I’m sorry,” you shrugged and laid back down. “I thought you guys weren't coming back until tomorrow,” you asked tapping the spacebar to pause the movie.

Sam stepped into his room, quickly ridding himself of his jacket and arching his back, to crack his spine. “We kinda hurry back,” he simply said. “Dean dropped me off and went to a bar, he has a date.” Sam’s eyebrows went up and his give you that look, you immediately knew what that meant.

“Gross, good for him though.” You sat up against the pillows and waited to see what Sam would do.

“What you watching?” He kicked off his ugly slip-through suede boots and sat down on the side of the bed before opening up his belt and getting comfortable next to you.

“Pride and Prejudice.” you stuck your tongue to the side of your mouth.

“Again?” he sighed as if it was a bad thing.

“Yeah,” you rolled your eyes. “You want a beer,” you asked already getting up. He nodded as he yawned and just like that you were running to the kitchen.

“Hey,” Sam startled you as you were getting the beers from the fridge.

“Will you stop scaring me!? Next time I will shoot,” you warned, he chuckled.

“Is that my shirt? I hadn’t seen it in a while.” He leaned on the counter, you walked to him to give him his beer, his fingers graced yours as he took it, you shivered.

“Um… isn’t it Dean’s? I mean, it’s a henley and he’s the henley kinda guy… Oh, I founded at the laundry room, long forgotten.” You placed your beer on the counter before hopping up, jumping a little when the cold metal came in contact with your legs. Sam pushed himself away from the hard surface and stood right in front of you.

“You been paying attention to what my brother wears,” he inquired, hips pressing against your knees.

“Yeah… You ever wonder how your clothes magically appears clean in your closet?” you asked with sarcasm. “I do the laundry.” You licked your lips before taking a swing from your beer. Sam’s mouth puckered to the side, allowing you to see only one deep dimple. “So what, you want your shirt back now?” you taunted doing a little shoulder dance.

“It looks better on you, so no. You should keep it.” He put his beer down and with the same cold hand pushed a lock of hair behind your ear, tentatively getting closer to your face. “Or maybe,” he added. “You should take it off, just for a little bit...”

“Maybe I should,” you allowed your legs to spread wider so he could walked right in between them. You lifted your ass from the counter and placed a kiss in your boyfriend’s lips, his hands slid down your sides, to your ass to bring you closer to him.. “But not now, I wanna go finish my movie.”

“Really?” Sam gave you half a bitch face.

“Yes! I need to see Darcy walking through the early morning mist so I can get into a better mood.”

Everything: @nadiandreu7 @winchesters-princess @purgatoan @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @thegreatficmaster @death2thevirgin @mogaruke @isis278 @marygracewinchester @lbug1025  @authoressskr @fangirl1802 @ria132love @policeofficerdean @donnaintx @feelmyroarrrr @just-another-busy-fangirl @love-kittykat21 @tanithlowisabamf @emilyymichelle @goldenangelbloodcastiel @likesiriusly @petrovadixon @bulletscrossbowpie @imagining-supernatural @kdfrqqg @bradygabrielle-blog @charliebradbury1104 @hanny-writes-spn @thedevilinthedetails @docharleythegeekqueen @artprincessbree @mrswhozeewhatsis @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @sandlee44 @supernatural-girl97 @the-sassy-one @wicked-gen @queen-of-deans-booty @sam-in-a-flannel @raylin19 @sammys-lost-shoe @bribrixd5 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester

Everything SFW: @deathtonormalcy56 

Sam/Jared: @kinkybabytwinkle

[revwinchester]

Ironic

Summary: The reader is in the bunker tidying up when Castiel pops in surprising her and catching her singing along to a song that he struggles to understand.

Characters/Pairings: Pre-Castiel x Reader (they like each other but no one is talking or even really thinking about that)

Word Count: 988

Warnings: None? It’s really quite fluffy.

A/N: This is my (late) entry for @iwriteaboutdean’s 200 followers celebration!  My 90s song was “Ironic” by Alanis Morissette.  2 Cas song fics in just a few days!  Aren’t you lucky ducks?? (Or maybe not?  Maybe you don’t like Cas fics.  Or song fics.  Or my writing.  Who knows? Only you!)   I’m feeling really goofy today... sorry you had to deal with that if you made it this far into reading the A/N...

Ironic - 

You were alone in the bunker.  Sam and Dean were off having some brotherly bonding on a vampire case - a milk run, they had assured you - and you were bopping around the bunker cleaning and jamming to your 90s playlist.  The playlist had everything from Cher to Salt ‘N’ Pepa, from Britney Spears to Matchbox 20 and you loved it.  The music from the 90’s was some of your favorite but you rarely got to listen to it; “driver picks the music,” and all that.  Since Dean wasn’t home to complain and inflict his enjoyable but limited taste in music on you, you’d decided to ditch the headphones in favor of a bluetooth speaker and you were washing dishes and singing along at the top of your lungs.

“It’s like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife.  It’s meeting the man of my dreams and then meeting his beautiful wife… And isn’t it ironic; don’t you think?  A little too ironic; yeah, I really do think…”

Alanis Morissette was your jam and when the music picked up as it headed towards the end of the song, you really started getting into it.

“It’s like rain on your wedding day! It’s a free ride when you’ve already paid! It’s the good advice that you just didn’t take! And who would have thought?  It figures!”

About half a minute later the song ended and you still had a few dishes left to wash.  “Ironic” was the last song on the playlist and the room was silent apart from the sloshing water in the sink.  

“When the playlist ends but the dishes aren’t done…” you sang quietly to the rhythm of the song, chuckling to yourself.

“I don’t understand,” a gravelly voice said from behind you, causing you to drop the glass you were washing.  You whipped around to face the intruder as the glass shattered in the sink.  Your mind quickly ran through all of the options you had at your disposal for protection.  The easiest would be to grab a shard of glass from the sink and use it like a knife but you ran the risk of cutting yourself that way.  You hadn’t washed any sharp knives, though, and those were stored across the kitchen from where you were working...

“None of those scenarios were ironic.  The entire song is a series of unfortunate coincidences.”

“Cas!” you shrieked, your hand flying up to your chest where you heart was pounding.  “How long have you been standing there? You can’t sneak up on people like that!  What if I’d had a gun?  I could have shot you!”

“I’ve been here long enough to hear that song.  Your singing was quite enthusiastic,” the angel informed you.  “Unlike that song, this is irony.  Situational irony if we’re being specific,”  

You didn’t respond.  Instead, you just stared at him with wide eyes so Castiel continued to explain, assuming you didn’t understand what he was getting at.  

“My presence was meant to be comforting but it’s had the opposite effect.  Your quickened breathing, elevated heart rate, and hypothetical threat to shoot me when you logically know bullets can’t hurt me are all ironic responses considering my intention to spend a relaxing evening with you.”

You continued to stare at Cas, your mouth agape as silence stretched out between you.  Just as the angel was about to speak again, a laugh bubbled up from your chest.  One laugh led to another and, eventually, you were laughing hysterically in the kitchen until you were gasping for breath.  

“Are you alright?” Castiel asked, reaching towards you as you doubled over in laughter.  His concern only made you giggle more and he observed you as if he were trying to find something that he could heal with his grace.  That reaction only served to make you laugh harder.

“I’m fine, Cas,” you squeaked out amid your giggles.  

The angel was still staring at you with a look of consternation so you forced yourself to calm down and talk to him.  

“Seriously, I’m fine,” you assured him.  “You were just taking the song so seriously, I was so freaked out, and the moment was so absurd… I got the giggles.  A relaxing night with you sounds wonderful.”  You rose up on your tiptoes and gave Cas a peck on the cheek, a recent development in your friendship.  “I just need to clean up this glass first.”

Cas waved his hand.  “It’s done,” he told you, taking your hand in his and leading you into your bedroom.

You crossed the room and flipped on the tv and dvd player.  You had introduced Cas to your favorite television show and the next time he had popped into the bunker, he had brought back the series on dvd so that you could watch it whenever you wanted.  Since he had enjoyed the handful of episodes he had watched with you, you decided that the best way to thank him for the gift was to do a series rewatch with Cas whenever he was around for a few hours.

You started the next episode and joined the angel on the bed.  You had started the series sitting on opposite sides of the bed but as it had progressed, the two of you had started getting closer, both physically and emotionally, and now you would share one another’s space while you watched television together.  About fifteen minutes into the show, your head was leaning on Castiel’s shoulder and he had an arm wrapped tightly around you.

“I understand,” Cas said suddenly, looking down at you with a revelatory smile on his face.  “The irony is that none of the situations are ironic.  The entirety of the song is verbal irony.”

You fell into a fit of giggles again, burying your face in Castiel’s arm to muffle the sound until you could calm down and watch your show with your angel.  

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