#jodi cain | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bigmouthlass · 5 months ago

Text

Title: Make It Do (Or Do Without)

Series: Supernatural B-Sides

Author: BJ

Fandom: Supernatural

Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Claire Novak

Synopsis: What if Dean encountered a different Hunter during the S10 finale? Someone who wound up shoving him further along his downward spiral?

Tags: Dean Winchester, Claire Novak, Castiel, Sam Winchester, Jody Mills, Mark of Cain, Hurt No Comfort, Hatefucking, Songfic

AN: Song is "Pain To Me," by Deathline International off the album 'Arashi Syndrom. The final line of the second verse might as well be the Team Free Will motto, for better or worse. All recognizable intellectual properties are owned by their respective creators and holders of any copyrights or trademarks. This is a not-for-profit work of fan art and protected by Fair Use.

---

Pushing steel in my heart, Do you know what you're doing? I’m still breathing I don't know how, Only dreams are soothing. Desperate tears. Stirring my emotions. Fantasy meets reality-- wiping me. --- Claire held her breath as the bartender checked her “ID” but the gamble paid off-- the bartender was too slammed and too stressed to give it a good look and served Claire her vodka and Red Bull without a blink. She slipped him a ten and went back to the dark dance floor to writhe and grind with the rest of the meatsuits. She’d done her makeup heavy and her clothes were too small and worn to rags, leaving her all nice and vulnerable-looking. Chase me, she thought, easy pickings, I’m just a little baby . . .

Her prey bit in minutes. Something about Claire just screamed monster bait, she’d come to learn. Tonight’s specimen was tall and lanky, head-to-toe black with black nail polish and spikes through one eyebrow. Claire let him reel her in, let him breathe dirty nothings against her neck, let him pull her outside to the darkest shadows of the alley. Let him push her to her knees. Blow a monster? She’d done worse. Dignity was a luxury Claire had left behind a while ago. Make it do or do without, Grandma’s answer to everything. Parents gone, home cancelled, future erased-- make it do or do without.

She reached where she’d stashed her machete, and it wasn’t there. “Oh shit.”

“What’s the matter sugar?” her prey asked, caressing her face. “Wanna take this somewhere a little more private?”

A new voice, deep and ice-cold. “No.” Claire jumped to her feet as someone chopped and the vampire’s head rolled. Blood sprayed and covered Claire in fine splatters. The blade flashed and another head rolled. This one had long blonde hair like hers, it flowed like a comet’s tail.

A hard hand grabbed Claire’s arm and she almost fell as the owner dragged her from the scene. She twisted, crying out, “Let go of me!”

Instead she was yanked in an arc. Losing her balance, she fell and skinned her knees and palms.

“Get up.” Claire glared from her place on the ground, up into the angry face of -- of course -- Dean Winchester.

“What’re you doing here?” Claire hissed.

“Saving your stupid fucking life, again. Get up.”

Did the word fuck just pass those lips?

Shock made her obedient and she stumbled to her feet. Dean grabbed her by the triceps, that move-it-along pinch cops liked to use. Claire squeaked in pain. “Shit-- ow! You’re hurting me!”

Dean strode faster and pulled harder. “Thanks to that little show you put on inside every cop in the state’s going to be looking for you by morning. I should just let them arrest you. A nice hard bang in grownup jail,” he grunted as he opened a car door and shoved Claire inside, “might actually teach you something about consequences.”

“What the hell are you and where’s the real Dean?” Claire asked. It was supposed to sound like a joke. Instead it came out scared. Stone killer he might be but Clare would’ve bet anything he’d never--

“All me,” Dean said as he plopped behind the wheel, “just dead-bang out of patience with your bullshit, Novak. You wanna kill yourself put a pistol in your mouth and get it over with. I’ll burn the body and tell Jody you went down fighting instead of being stupid. Now shut up or I swear I’ll punch your lights out. I mean it.”

Claire sat up and opened her mouth to protest, until she got a good look at Dean as he started driving. She wiped her stinging palms on her leggings and glared out through the window. Tried to remember she was a tough cookie who could handle anything. Tried to remember this was just Dean and he’d never--

He wouldn’t--

He couldn’t--

That wasn’t--

She kept running into walls. --- You are pain to me. And I volunteer to stick my hand my heart my soul inside. You are pain to me. And I volunteer to stick my hand my heart my soul inside. --- Dean drove through night-black exurbs and shopping districts, the occasional streetlight making everything else look even darker. No radio, no small talk, no lectures on expired pop culture crap or condescending life advice. No updates on Castiel or complaining about his brother that way siblings did just to blow off steam. Just silence.

“Where’s Sam?” Claire asked, once.

“How the hell should I know?” Dean said.

“Wow, just-- I mean--”

“You’re not too bright are you? Which part of ‘shut up�� are you struggling with?”

Claire shrank in her seat, and hated herself for doing it.

Finally in the wee hours Dean pulled over at a basic fleabag motel with the sign half-out. “Come on. We’re gonna get a few hours rack time. Your gear’s in the trunk.” When Claire didn’t move, Dean leaned back into the car through the open driver’s door. The look of cold impatience in his eyes shone her unease into nice shiny fear. “Move it.”

The hell with her stuff. Claire opened the car door and sprinted for the road.

Dean tackled her and Claire went down hard. “I told you,” he grunted, “to behave.”

“Help!” Claire shrieked. “Help!”

Stars burst across her vision as Dean slapped her. She didn’t lose consciousness, not completely. Her face hurt too much for her to do anything but flop around as Dean got to his feet and hauled Claire up over his shoulder. He went inside the room and slung Claire on one of the beds like a rolled-up rug.

Without so much as a raised eyebrow Dean caught Claire’s wrist as she charged him with her pocketknife. He slammed her against the wall, her arm stretched up over her head. “Definitely didn’t get your brains from your father’s side,” he grunted.

“You don’t say shit about my father,” Claire hissed. “I knew it. You’re just a fucking monster.”

“Right. Monster,” Dean said, and he leaned into her harder. Claire fought for air as his weight squeezed her ribs. His knee came up between hers, pressing a thigh up between her legs. “The guy who killed your pimp,” Claire felt tears fall from her eyes as he dug into the crusted-over wound, “ and the john he was trying to sell you to is a monster.”

“Fuck you,” Claire spat. It wasn’t working, the rage wasn’t eating the fear. She was still scared. Backspace that, she was goddamned terrified. And Dean wasn’t moving. He looked like he was fine right where he was, studying her like he was thinking of eating her raw. “Randy cared about me, even--”

“Randy,” Dean snarled, “didn’t give a damn about you except for the money you could make him. The only reason he didn’t whore you out sooner is he had fresher meat. What was her name? Wendy?” Claire swallowed. “Yeah, I know about her. She turned a bad trick and turned up dead with her face burned off.”

“You LIE!” Claire cried.

“Look it up if you want. What’d Randy say about what happened? The funeral was closed-casket, am I right?” Claire ducked her head as a sob twisted in her chest. She’d done her best to forget Wendy like Randy had told her to, she’d believed him when he said baby sister died in an accident so bad it was better-- “You know what you were worth to him? To Randy? Five grand. That’s it. That’s,” Dean hummed like he was figuring something up and Claire would’ve sold her soul to put her knife in his neck, “about two weeks of hustling pool, a good night at the right poker game, maybe two stickups. He lowballed you sweetheart. Gave you away for cheap.”

With a vicious wrench, Dean twisted Claire’s knife out of her hand and flung it away. “Now. Go use the bathroom. You got two minutes.”

He wasn’t kidding. Two minutes to the second later he opened the bathroom door and stood there as Claire finished doing her business. “Get out you perv!” she shouted.

Instead, Dean took a step into the tiny bathroom and Claire cowered on the potty, her undies around her knees. His normally kind eyes were cold stone and studied her like she was dogshit on his shoe. “One more word out of that cocksucker mouth of yours, I will break your fucking jaw. One.”

How nice it would have been to think he was exaggerating. He wasn’t. So this was the thing actual monsters were scared of, Claire thought as Dean turned his back. She tried not to let her hands shake as she cleaned up and flushed.

“Your bag’s on the table. Get changed and go to bed.” Dean turned to let her by. “Leave the door open,” he added as Claire reached for the knob. “You voided your privacy privileges.”

Claire changed into a pair of shorts and an old T-shirt and did her absolute best not to hear Dean as he opened his pants and pissed for the record. She caught sight of something under a chair-- her knife. The tinkling noise stopped and Dean groaned as he zipped up. Heart in her throat Claire grabbed the knife, folded it closed, and tucked it in the waistband of her shorts.

She was just getting into bed when Dean came out of the bathroom wiping his hands on a towel. The bathroom light behind him made him into a block of shadow, and despite herself Claire cringed. She’d felt this kind of unsafe before, around men who wanted her worse than dead. Not around the Winchesters though. Not that way. “Get some sleep. We move out at dawn.” He snapped the bathroom light off.

Claire turned onto her side. She heard Dean unzip his bag, uncap a bottle. Liquid gurgled. Trying to move silent and subtle, she pulled her pocketknife out of her shorts. Behind her, she heard a belt buckle jingle and fabric whisper as Dean got undressed. Despite herself, her mouth went dry and her heart pounded. What if he . . . there were two beds, sure, and there was Castiel and Dean's fucked-up sort-of boyfriends thing with him . . . Claire's hand tightened on her knife. Let him come. She'd slice his balls off.

Before or after letting him fuck her?

Before, snarled her brain.

After, whined her pussy.

There had to be something seriously wrong with her, Claire thought, that she only felt . . . real when the hunt was on. It didn’t seem to matter which side of the arrow she was on-- hunter or meat. There just had to be blood in the air, and around Dean blood was always in the air.

Dean didn't touch her. He got into the other bed. Claire's ears pricked as he set his keys down on the nightstand. A chance then. She’d have to ditch the car fast, she knew there wasn’t much gas in it. Just get me to the nearest bus station, she said to herself, careful not to phrase it as a prayer, I can do the rest.

Okay then. Claire waited, knife in her hand and heart in her throat. It took a long time, before Dean’s breathing went deep and snorty. Claire flipped over to her side, facing the other bed. In the faint light coming in through the window she could just make out his face, eyes closed and jaw shadowed with a day or so of beard. He looked like normal Dean again, the guy who took her minigolfing and called her a genius. Claire had to touch the throbbing bruise on her face to remind herself otherwise.

Slow and silent, Claire turned the covers back. Dean didn’t move. She rolled out of bed and stood barefoot on the carpet. Her knife was heavy in her hand. Claire spent a long moment studying Dean’s chest, looking for that spot just to the side of the sternum. She knew from personal experience the blade was long enough. A hard plunge would spike his heart and kill him in seconds.

Claire switched the knife to her left hand and reached with her right. She bent her knees and set her weight, ready to spring for the door. Panting silently though her open mouth, she leaned. Just a little further.

Dean’s eyes popped open. His hand snapped around her wrist. Claire struck with her knife and Dean grunted as the blade cut into his arm. “That’s enough,” he growled. Claire cried out as Dean yanked her clear off the floor and across his bed. He pinned her flat on her face. Claire tried to fight him off but he was too big, too strong, too much. Just like Castiel had, he crushed her into nothing. “For Christ’s sake that is enough..”

“Let me go you bastard! Let me go!”

Dean grabbed her by the hair and pulled, arching her head up and baring her throat. The tip of her knife touched her just under the point of her jawbone and Claire froze.

“I said,” Dean said, soft and silky and Claire felt her empty bladder pulse, “that’s enough. Stupid or suicidal-- depends on the day doesn’t it? Or maybe,” Dean shifted to press fully against her back and all the things Claire had been trying not to think about in connection with this man burst across her mind at the feel of his body, hard and heavy and so much bigger, “you just can’t feel it unless it hurts. That why you hate it at Jody’s?”

“I don’t hate it at Jody’s,” Claire denied even though she did hate it, she hated everything about it, she hated it for being warm and safe and she hated Jody for trying so hard to wrap her in softness and she hated Alex for her sneering contempt and she hated the constant reminders that she didn't belong with decent people any more she hated hated hated--

“Course you do. No action there. Room’s too quiet, bed’s too big. I take you back you’ll just take off again.” Dean set the point of Claire’s knife against the tender spot just below her eye. “Maybe I should cut your face so you can see how goddamned stupid you are every time you look in the mirror. Or maybe,” the point dug upward just enough to prick the skin, “I’ll take one of your eyes. Can’t hunt with no depth perception.”

In mockery, Claire searched for her courage. “You wouldn’t. Castiel wouldn’t let you.”

“Cute. You still praying to him? Don’t bother. When I left him I warned him I’d kill him next time I saw him. Now where were we? Right,” he growled, “trying to get it through your,” Claire whimpered as he pulled at her hair for emphasis, “thick fucking head you got no business Hunting. Hamstrings? Slice off your thumbs?” Dean slid the knife’s tip down her ribs until it poked just under the last one. “You didn’t know that vampire had his girlfriends covering the outside. I’m the only reason you haven’t been turned. Fucker had a type. Pretty young blondes. Were you going to cut his head off before or after you blew him?”

A whimpering sob peeped out of Claire’s mouth.

“Answer me,” Dean growled as he yanked her hair hard enough to rip some out.

“Before,” Claire said.

“Bullshit. You’d’ve hid your machete in a different place. Suck his brains out then deliver the coup de grace."

“Speaking from experience?” Claire smarted off.

Snarling something Claire didn’t catch, Dean threw her knife across the room. From behind, his knees shoved between her legs, one by one. Six inches taller, at least eighty pounds heavier, and -- Claire could feel it even through layers of fabric -- an adult male body doing predictably adult male things. If she’d been scared before--

“Think you’re a big girl.” Dean’s free hand fastened to her tit and squeezed. His pointer finger curled around her nipple and his thumb gripped in a vicious pinch. Heat raced straight down between her legs. On their own her hips tilted back, her pussy seeking a touch that wasn’t there. “Big girl tries to get the upper hand by being a fucking pricktease.” Dean shifted and those parts Claire had been trying to forget Dean had slotted in between her butt cheeks. She sucked back a sob. How did he know exactly how to handle her? “Good thing Randy stuck to taking pictures of you in the shower and selling your dirty underwear. You wouldn’t last a fucking week working the streets. That baby doll face and that fuck-you attitude’s catnip to the kind of bastard that likes breaking little girls.”

“Like you?” Claire snapped before she could stop herself.

A dark chuckle made Dean’s body rumble. His hips swayed and he grunted as his erection ground into her through their sleep clothes. “I don’t break my toys. Not until I’m done with them.” Claire fought as Dean flipped her over and it didn’t make any difference. A hard pull at her neck and her T-shirt shredded down the front. Another hard yank and her shorts flew away in pieces. Clamping one of her thighs between his, Dean shoved his hand in between her legs. The last of Claire’s bravado broke and disappeared when he found her slick and wet. Grinning, he stuffed her cunt with his first two fingers and rubbed her clit with his palm. Claire gasped. Like that bitch at the group home suggested she tried to find a safe place in her mind to go, somewhere to hide while her body did what it was going to do--

“Ah, no you don’t,” Dean grunted. His free hand seized her jaw. “You’re gonna look me in the eye, while I make you come.” The hand fucking up into her pressed, twisted, and Claire moaned. She shut her eyes and Dean’s hand locked around her throat. “Open your eyes and look at me, or I’ll break your fucking neck.”

Claire opened her eyes and sobbed out another moan. Her traitor body arched in Dean’s grip and he grunted, pleased. She wasn’t trying to fight her way free and they both knew it. Pussy juice flowed from her like blood from a slit wrist. Claire’s chest heaved as she fought for air. Dean’s eyes were cool as he watched her break apart, changing the motion of his fingers inside her or the pressure of his hand on her pussy according to what he saw in her face. As he made her come harder and hotter than she’d ever come in her life.

Then he did it again.

And again.

It went on a long time, and it got very bad. Dean broke her to pieces before he even got around to getting rid of his clothes. His cock was big and hot and Claire could feel it tearing into her where she was softest. Dean feasted on her all over, leaving dark bruises and bloody toothprints everywhere on her fair skin. It hurt, worse than anything.

Then he made her beg for more.

Then he turned her loose and told her, “Your turn. Do your worst.”

Claire attacked, and Dean laughed as she dug the skin off his chest.

At one point Claire found herself riding Dean hard as she could, biting the blood out of his neck as he goaded her into biting deeper and tearing harder. Against him Claire’s strength was worthless and her rage was a joke. The edge of mockery never left his eyes. To break her and rebuild her into something his, Dean didn’t need a rack. He was the rack.

When he finally got bored, Dean kicked Claire out of his bed. Literally. Claire cried out as she hit the floor, naked and bleeding from everywhere. Dean’s come blobbed out of her cunt, trickled from her ass, coated her throat in slime. “Go wash yourself,” grunted the thing wearing the skin of someone who’d been kind to her once. “You’re fucking filthy.” --- Dreams are crushed abandon hope, I don't know what I'm doing. I'm still fighting I don't give in, This is where I'm going. The glass is shattered. The curtain is down. I keep on moving-- I always will. --- “Jesus Christ, what happened?” Jody demanded, examining Claire’s black eye.

“Hunt went bad,” Claire grunted, ears pricked for the sound of Dean’s car. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

That was pretty much the last thing she and Jody ever said to each other. In the daylight hours Claire walked the town, checking every sliver of shadow and jumping at every unexpected noise. At night she lay in Jody’s too-soft bed, her pussy burning with heat and her brain writhing with nightmares. It was like she was back in those horrible months recovering from letting Castiel possess her, but worse. She’d never fingered herself off to those memories, again and again. Never bit through her own skin as she fucked herself with whatever would fit. Never collapsed against the sheets, overloaded and unsated.

“You need to tell us where he is,” Sam said. Jody reached for Claire’s hand. Claire suffered the touch for a few minutes before she pulled away. “Dean is not himself right now and he’s dangerous.”

“No fuck Freddo,” Claire scoffed.

“Claire!” Jody gasped.

“You’ve seen him.” It wasn’t a question. “What happened?” Castiel asked, staring at her in that inhuman way he had.

“I don’t know where he is, okay?” Claire said. Her vision was tunneling and her chest felt heavy and achy. Her legs shook as she stumbled up from the table. “End of story.”

Castiel grabbed her arm with her father’s hand. “That is not--"

Claire swung and popped him in the mouth. It was like hitting a rock. “Let GO!” Claire screamed.

“Claire what the hell--” Sam? Jody? Claire didn’t know, couldn’t care. Her arm bruised in Castiel’s grip as she tore free. The next thing she remembered was sitting on the floor with her head on her knees as people who couldn’t reach where she was talked around her like she was diseased or something.

--not sleeping and she’s self-harming--

--he wouldn’t--

--eighteen people--

--she’s been acting like--

--he’s in thrall to the mark--

--i’m not listening to this--

--he’s capable of anything now--

Anything, yeah. Claire’s body burned with the memory of anything. First touch she’s been able to really feel in forever. Jody and Alex couldn’t reach her. Dean could.

When you get sick of being a civilian again, meet me at these coordinates. He’d made her recite them, over and over.

When she slipped away for good she took nothing but her angel sword. He met her in an abandoned barn. He fucked her there too, making Claire scream as she came pressed up against the cold steel of the car.

“You can run if you want to,” Dean told her as he left her phone and the ruins of her panties on the barn’s dirty floor. “I’ll find you. It’s you and me now, baby. You and me.” --- You are pain to me. And I volunteer to stick my hand my heart my soul inside. You are pain to me. And I volunteer to stick my hand my heart my soul inside. --- They lived on the move, a step ahead of the law and Heaven and Hell and Sam. Claire felt herself disappear into the job. She tried to get away from him a few times, chasing some longing for home and safety. Dean always found her. Her scar collection grew.

Miami, a pack of ghouls.

Little Egg Harbor, a coven of Siberian witches.

Fort Collins, a gang of shapeshifters.

Salt Lake City, the King of Hell as he begged and wept like a bitch, Dean grinning and thanking him for the Mark of Cain.

Sacramento, an oni.

Dearborn, a djinn.

The Colony, Castiel. Dean left the deathblow to Claire. The angel hadn’t begged. Just stared at her with eyes she saw every day in the mirror, full of pain before he burned out of her father’s corpse like the twist of energy he actually was. Dean built the pyre and stood with her as the body burned. Claire wept in his arms all night, and never cried again after.

City after city, case after case. Sam stayed a step behind, like the mud caked around the car’s fenders.

Finally, Claire sat behind Baby’s wheel as Dean and Sam had their final conversation inside some derelict house in some city somewhere. “He’ll live,” Dean grunted when he got back, motioning for Claire to slide over. He didn’t tell her to never mention Sam’s name again. He didn’t need to. --- You (how does it make you feel?) Are (how does it make you feel?) Pain to me. (how . . . does it feel?) --- Claire hasn’t thought of running away in a while. Where would she go? Dean keeps her fed, sheltered, gives her mission and purpose. Together they save people and kill monsters. So what if Dean doesn’t really respect or like her and uses her like a slut? He cares for her more than anyone has since an angel possessed her dad and crucified her life.

Claire does what she has to-- make it do or do without. ---

AN2: The scariest thing to me about Dean under the influence of the Mark of Cain was watching how he treated women. That degree of casual cruelty is fucking terrifying, and that's before we factor in Dean's physical power and vast experience in inflicting pain. Claire -- with her anger issues and her death wish and her brazen overconfidence -- is very lucky she didn't run into Dean before Dean hit the wall and summoned Death.

#supernatural #dean winchester #claire novak #sam winchester #castiel #jody mills #dean winchester/claire novak #major character death #rape/non-con #mark of cain #canon divergence #hurt no comfort #hatefucking #songfic #bj's fic library #supernatural b-sides series

2 notes · View notes

tzigone · 6 months ago

Text

KF:TLC post-series (fic) thoughts

I was thinking about post-series and things I'd like to see.

Obviously, Paul's return would be a cool thing. I've read several variations on this. I feel like thematically, he needs to return of his own volition once he's defeated his inner demons. But that doesn't make as exciting a story as his life in danger, I know. I do think it needs to be a little bit - not happen right on the heels of Peter leaving the force.

I'd like to see more stories (even set during series) featuring on Peter and his sisters when Peter is adult. They show up in kid-Peter fics, but rarely in adulthood.

Laura to be dead. I haven't seen the finale in many, many years, and don't recall the details, but I don't like her being alive. I mean, Caine and Peter being alive when the other thought them dead was part of the series premise, but her too just seems to go too far (not that Matthew didn't already). It actually might be interesting to see Caine being manipulated/led down the wrong path and Peter as the one with clear vision on the matter. But, like I said, can't recall the specifics. Though, I do think Peter needs time to settle in to being the Caine of Chinatown, so people become used to coming to him for help before his dad comes back.

I'd like to see Peter and Jordan and Jody relationship dynamics addressed. Without Jordan as a bad guy. I actually ship Peter and Jody (I know many don't), but even under the goodbye-ish circumstance of him leaving the station, kissing Jody like that in the precinct while still with Jordan last she knew (at least as far as I can recall) is a real shit move of Peter's. The gossip will be terrible.

Okay, they aren't main characters, but more followup on Karen and her son or Kermit and his would be cool. I admit I'm way more into Karen's relationship with Todd. I'm a big Simms fan, and I totally crushed on Todd when I first sow the show as a teenager. Plus, she's seemingly going to end up adopting a baby, so there's a whole new dynamic.

I want a story where TJ Kincaid does manage to pull back the woman he loved from the darkness. He can have Peter, Caine, or Lo Si as his supernatural support, but I want it to be be him that does it.

#Kung Fu: The Legend Continues #KF:TLC #KFTLC #Peter Caine #Chris Potter #kwai chang caine #david carradine #Paul Blaisdell #Robert Lansing #Kermit Griffin #Karen Simms #Jody Powell #Jordan McGuire #TJ Kincaid

3 notes · View notes

giddlywinks · 3 months ago

Text

Giddy Mag #9: Collage Showcase #1

You know, this could be like a tarot reading. It's still a symbolic energetic projection.

Pick 3 numbers from 1-8

That's your past collage, present collage, and future collage, respectively, about whatever you're seeking guidance on. It's an energetic imprint. The knowledge is within the portal. Go.

"Scrying for Pastel Obliterations"

"And then suddenly, Eve was missing a rib."

"What would you like? Feral, devastation, or grieved?"

"I am your cryptid. I am your greenest grass. I am your other side. I am right here loving you in all the rain you can not swim."

"I am in awe of the water, in love with the depths, in peace with the air, and above all things I am surrounded, and below all things, I am supported. What else is there worth breathing?"

"Let me show you how to get clean."

"God's work at play for you, beloved."

"Fine, I can see the big picture."

The Spotify link was broken. It kept giving me error messages. Sorry, it's all Tumblr's fault.

And a new one...

VIBE 185:

"I left Kansas, saw God, and became immortal under the most unstoppable and blinding white light. I have tasted and seen Heaven. Watch as it all unfolds in splendor before you, in the snow and the dust."

1 note · View note

bloodvampyr · 1 year ago

Text

(x)

#jodi cain #tattered rags #goth #goth dolls #vampire #alt dolls #dolls #alt #gothic #grunge #2000s #emo #webcore #web finds #nostalgia #mall goth #old web #2010s

309 notes · View notes

deansbite · 5 months ago

Text

　　　　𝒥𝒞　　｡　　drink up, angel

pairings　𓎟𓎡 ₊ ˖　afab!reader x demon!dean winchester　,　angel!reader x demon!dean winchester

warnings　𓎟𓎡 ₊ ˖　18+ mdni !!　kinktober (ish)　use of nicknames　use of "good girl"　unprotected sex (WRAP IT!!!)　p in v　guilt　degrading　demon!dean (he should have his own warning tbh)　mocking praise　consumption of (demon) blood　sorta virgin!reader (except the vessel isn't)　no prep　descriptive blood　dom!dean　sub!reader

summary　𓎟𓎡 ₊ ˖　despite dean going missing and mysteriously reappearing in the bunker — the thought of him and you together wasn't as bad as you initially thought. Infact, you were probably attracted to it. Despite being the angel everyone expects to be perfect and innocent.

READERS POV

⏝ 𝅄︶ ͡𑁬 ⚠︎ ໒ ͡ ︶𝅄 ⏝

It was unusual. Well, the eerie silence that filled the bunker from top to bottom. Except for when you stood up and took a step. Every tiny noise echoed — you could drop a feather in the Deans empty room and hear it all the way to the library. That was because Dean had the Mark Of Cain and just so happened to die — which caused the fucking mark to turn him to a demon. Not because of possession, no, it was purely Dean controlling his body.

It was no biggie, because the boys got through thick and thin — except there was maybe a little problem.. It was that you guys couldn't exactly help Dean without Dean there.. present physically — right..? And that's exactly what your problem was — Dean was M.I.A. and nobody had a clue on where he was or with whom he was. And that had a whole search party out for him. Castiel, Sam, Jody, Donna.. every and any hunter would call if they saw him.

That lead to why you were babysitting the bunker. If a hunter called, you'd simply fly there. And Castiel couldn't do it due to some struggles he had with controlling his flying.. and none of you guys could afford a fail. You needed some good news. And you agreed so now you were left pacing around the bunker, every step you took echoing through the bunker.

The clanks of your shoe against the pavement weren't as quiet as you'd expected. It was like you could set off an entire earthquake with each step. God — you were so bored you were analyzing everything and observing to the point where you see things you never did before.

For example, you noticed the amount of books that had a bunch of dust particles on their spines, the top edges and at the bottom of them. And — there was one particular wooden plank in the library that when you stepped over, would groan. There was also a continious hum of the fridge whenever you walked into the hallway and past the kitchen. Which would fade out further down and come at a complete stop when you stood infront of Deans room —

Deans room. A frown settled on your face. You weren't familiar with the human emotions — but you presumed this one could be connected to melancholy you think it was. You've read about that somewhere. It was connected to sadness. But you shouldn't know how that feels.

Like, you were a full blown angel. You shouldn't feel human-like things. You weren't exactly on the rocky, terrestrial planet which was earth every single day. This was actually your first time being here for a longer period of time. All you knew before was that it was a solid and active surface with mountains, valleys, canyons, plains and more. But you never explored much and never felt the desire to do so.

Not until you ended up being asked by Castiel to come down a couple of times. And you agreed hesitantly, it incredibly strange. You were in a vessel, that could describe how you'd look if you were human. But you weren't human.. whatever, that wasn't important. What was important was that during the period where he asked for help, you popped in here and there or when the boys prayed. Not every single time because you had your own things to tend too. But they were grateful for the help.

Despite basically being put on the blacklist now for all the angels and heaven due to you deciding to help the Winchester's and Castiel, which both of them had a reputation of killing a bunch of angels — you felt like it was a sacrifice that was up to you to make. Which you felt proud of making. Because checking in here and there became normal and even something you looked forward too, helping everyone — and may or may not aswell as seeing the older Winchester.

You hadn't known or seen him — heard of, yeah but not met until you helped them out. He was a bit rough around the edges, extremely rude toward you at first — because he didn't trust angels. Which was understandable. With time, he warmed up enough to you to pray as a form of communication on occasion. You'd sometimes move around some objects so he knew you heard. You both had a thing that felt very dear to you. You genuinely would get concerned when you didn't hear from Dean at least once a month.

And you didn't know how to feel about it. Because you weren't human. You didn't have the mind to feel emotions, feel what humans felt. You felt numb to most things. It was a scary thing to experience, because imagine being a loyal and obedient angel — a favorited angel, who was also beloved by many. And then you became fond of humanity. All because of a single human. Hell, if you hadn't met Dean and became who you are today, you'd just consider squashing him like a bug. That's how weak he truly was in comparison to you.

But here you were, have you had an idea of what happiness was? Nope. Sadness? No. Anger? What even are these words? Aren't they just here to describe how someone is acting that? Because your perspective of emotions were blurry — because you don't know what they are enough to really care. You didn't have a grasp on what it was, really.

You saw nothing special about them. Until now. Standing at the doorway of Deans room. Pondering and reminiscing. Your eyes flew from one part of the room to another. The sheets untouched but slightly messy and they had the same note Dean gave Sam before he left on the pillow. His handwriting. He wrote it before he willingly left. You just stood there, unsure of what to think or feel. A moment passed before Deans scent finally hit your nostrils. The aftershave smell, his cologne, a hint of alcohol and a bit of a.. cigarette smell that you could tell just in the slightest bit that humans wouldn't tell.

A memory you had that stuck to you. It was one where Dean would put his duffle bag on his desk before lazily throwing himself on his bed, settling in and getting all cozy. Then you knocked, he'd sigh before telling you an almost inaudible little 'come in' and you'd enter. Dean would ask what you were doing before you asked him a couple of questions. And that night you guys spoke the entire night. It was fun.

You'd genuinely do anything to be able to have a repeat of that event.

A sigh escaped your lips before you made your way back to the library. Just to make sure that nobody called during the time you'd been busy daydreaming or whatever. Once you made it, your hands reached out and grabbed the smartphones, clicking their power button so they turn on, just to get nothing. You were about to just place the phone back on the flat, wooden surface — until you sucked in quite a deep breath, inhaling a familiar smell.

You were about to just brush it off as nothing when it got stronger. Your eyebrows furrowed and you blinked. Thoughts filled your head and you turned your head over your shoulder. Nothing. The distinctive smell started to subside. Okay.. maybe your mind was just playing tricks and you were just paranoid after Deans absence.

Until it came back. Hell, you might even have to say stronger than the first two times. And then it hit you. Aftershave, a cologne you couldn't ever put your finger on what it smelt like, a heavy stench of alcohol and smell of sex — jesus christ, the same hint of cigarettes. And you knew this couldn't be a paranoid joke. Your hands grip tightend on the smartphone.

The recognizable voice chuckled behind you. "Sweetheart, I know you know that i'm here. Don't be shy, show me that pretty face." His voice was mocking, maybe even straight up cruel because of how extreme the way he said it. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and you had goosebumps. You were certainly terrified — unknowing of what could possibly come your way when it came to Dean as a demon.

"I know you can hear me, c'mon. Pretty angel like you doesn't like to take orders? Hm? What if I was God? Told ya too obliderate all of humanity. Wipe the slate clean. Start over. Or told you to fucking look at me because I won't be asking another time." Deans — demon Deans voice boomed throughout the library. The old you would probably be ignoring him. But you weren't exactly 'the old you'. You were.. simply present you.

So, you spun around on your heels, your eyes taking a moment to drag up from his shoes. And then you met his emerald green eyes. Usually they were majestic and amazing to look at. But this wasn't Dean Dean. Because you saw his piercing eyes and the glint of dark, malevolent emerald green eyes. It left you speechless. And not in a good way. Nope, exactly the opposite.

"Uh huh, following instructions all proper. Makin' me feel all high and mighty, sweets." He let out a low chuckle, his eyes observing you. As if he had an idea that you were probably planning on just getting the hell away. He hummed, clicking his tongue. "Not too fast, Mary. We just reunited, I missed you real bad." He frowned — trying to impersonate being sad.

You just furrowed your eyebrows, clearly displeased. "What're you even planning on doing with me?" He shrugged, "That depends on what you want to do, sweetheart. I don't do shit without consent." You scoffed in amusement. "A demon refusing to do something without consent? What is this? A bad dream?" You quickly shut up when Dean simply glared at you. "I take that back." "Good girl." And that made your knees weak. I mean, fuck it was still the same looking same green-eyed man in front of you, with the same deep voice.

But it wasn't exactly him. You knew that. But was it bad a part of you just.. simply couldn't care less? "I don't want you to do anything." He simply let out a laugh. "Sure. You're a prude anyway, d'you even know what there is for me t'do to you? Like I don't know, show you what sex is, stick my fingers in you or my cock while i'm at it. Betcha would like that." You accidentally choked on your spit at that. "Huh?" You said between some coughs.

"Didn't ya hear me?" He asked, skeptical. A moment passed where you just stared at him, all wide-eyed. "I asked you a fuckin' question." He added, stern now. "Oh — I uh, no I wouldn't —" He didn't respond to that, just took step by step, every step slowly approaching you, the wooden floorboards groaning under his newly added weight. "Y'sure? You wouldn't want me t'just turn you 'round and slip in nnice 'n slow. Wonder if you're tight." You just stared at him, lips parted. He smirked, the right side of his mouth tugging upward.

He then decided to simply lean down, his head closer and closer to yours, lips almost touching. You felt his breath on your lips and he most likely felt yours on his. Your eyes slowly travelled down — they lingered over his nose with the small bump — then his cheeks and nose which had the faintest freckles dusted around and finally down to his plump lips. You cleared your throat. "Just say no 'n i'll leave y'alone." He spoke, his tone mocking as always. "But i'm sure an innocent, perfect little angel like you won't accept big, bad demon like me."

You just noticed him lean in closer, your lips basically touching if either you or him accidentally sneezed. "And? No complaints?" He chuckled, in a cruel way — which you hadn't noticed, but even if you did, you probably couldn't really care less. And he dragged it out, obviously. Just sucking in a deep breath, his eyes darting from your eyes down to your lips. You were sure you were slowly coming to a realization on what you were exactly doing.

But before you had any time to exactly protest, his lips came down, clashing against yours. His hand immediately touching you all over.. singular because his right hand was busy wrapped around your throat, squeezing lightly to make your airway a bit tighter. But to necessairily cut it off. He chuckled when your lips vibrated against his because you whined in the kiss — but the kiss trapped the noise from being any louder.

"Thought you were a good lil' angel. Seems like the exact opposite. 'Cause I ain't gonna be nice, baby. Gonna bend y'over on the table, fuck y'all nice 'n good, make sure your brain s'all fuzzy 'n fucked out." He promised. Your lips were chasing his as you both had a hot and sloppy makeout. Deans left hand paused at your clothed ass, just squeezing before pulling away from the kiss.

"Bend over the table." He ordered, his right hand leaving your throat and his left hand hesitantly letting go of your ass before he removed it. "But what about the door anyone could walk i —" He shot you a sharp glare, not before blinking and when his eyelids lifted, his eyes were pure black. No iris in sight. Pun not intended. You gulped and just decided to stay intact before turning back around. Mind you, phone still clenched between your fingers.

Dean wasted no time, his hips ground against yours. Around four layers of clothes not providing the friction he gave. His hand went to your lower back before he slowly bent you over. He had a smug smirk on his face as to how easily you followed along with what he made you do. But you didn't see that because your eyes were currently focused on the bookshelves in front of you. All you could do was hear and wait patiently for something to happen.

And honestly — this whole situation escalated so fast it would probably be a blur by tomorrow. As if it never happened and you would be like those.. drunk people you've seen on the television screens and in bars. At least you hoped so, because you were sure fucking a demon wouldn't exactly be a list of things of what to do as a fucking angel. Besides, maybe it was just the way demon Dean attracted you. He was simply Dean.. just less Dean and add some.. more insanity to him.

You were wondering what Dean was doing before you looked over your shoulder, seeing Dean take in the view. Before his right hand landed on your hip. You trapped your bottom lip between your teeth. "Uh-huh, a moment 'go you were all whiny 'n bitchy 'bout me fuckin' ya but now you're all slutty, ain't that right?" He just raised his brows. You just rolled your eyes. "Oh? Gonna act all bitchy again?" He tutted, his left hand going to your hair and his fingers wrapped around a good chunk of your hair, he tugged on it.

"Anythin' ya wanna add?" He sneered. You shook your head. Despite being an angel, you still felt the burn of the hair strands being tugged on your vessels head. "No — no." You managed to get out, he seemed pleased enough. "That's what I fuckin' thought." He let go of the pieces of hair, but his hand shoved your head down onto the table. It wad harsh. "Don't move or I swear t'god y'won't be able too anymore."

And you knew he was not joking so you just let the side of your face rest on the wooden table, your hand let go of that phone and they travelled down to the edge of the table, your hands gripped onto it and you weren't exactly experiences in this — but Dean knew what he was doing. You at least assumed — because you weren't sure how this whole thing would go down. "Will this hurt?" "What'dya fuckin' expect?" His response was filled with irritation.

You wiggled your hips as you just heard his belt clanking as he undid it. All you could do pretty much is just wait because you did not want to disobey Dean. "Y'fuckin' want this, right?" He asked which he then grumbled something under his breath. You nodded before he rolled his eyes. "A fuckin' verbal response please?" "Yeah —" And he immediately continued with what he was doing.

You couldn't see anything so after a little, Deans hands went on your body, his fingers hooked underneath the waistband of your pants. His hands were warm in contrast of your colder skin. He tugged your pants down as fast as he could. He seemed like he wasn't planning on wasting a single second. Because holy jesus the 180 turns that keep taking you by surprise just keep going. You sucked in a breath when Deans fingers now went to your panties. His index teased your entrance through the thin fabric seperating them.

He then — without much warning pulled your panties to the side with the same index finger, his left hand gripping your hip and his calloused thumb after years of hunting and labor scratched your skin a little. You felt something tease your entrance. A gaspy breath escaped Dean from behind you. "Y'feel so wet. Hopefully s'enough t'act as lube." And then you felt him push in. His tip was in and you let out a moan, eyes fluttering shut.

He chuckled. "Jeez, baby. That fuckin' cunt s'suckin me in perfectly. Clenchin' 'round me real tight, too. Sad your pretty lil' vessel ain't a fuckin' virgin. Woulda enjoyed poppin' two cherries at once." He now pushed in deeper. His right hand went under your shirt, you just now realized because he was groping your boobs, his index and middle finger twisting your nipple as you let out a whine. "Fuck." You exclaimed.

"Real filthy. Never expected an angel like you squeezin' my cock so tight." He taunted, he bottomed out. Your walls clenched around him and relaxed before repeating that action, pants escaped your lips. You could feel every vein, the size of him and the way he almost split you into two. Dean boasted about sex all the time after he slept with girls. You never knew how right he was until now. Because jesus fucking christ you weren't expecting it to feel this good. You were probably zoned out because Dean spanked your ass. "Come back t'me, whore. Stick a fuckin' dick in ya 'n you'll become all inresponsive like a cock whore." He scoffed.

"C'mon, as I was sayin', open up that mouth." He ordered, still deep in you without moving. You fluttered your eyes open, his wrist right in your eyesight. He folded himself over you, his chest flush against your back. His right hand no longer teasing your boobs. Which was probably why his wrist was right in front of you. But it was because he had sliced his skin open a little under. "You're enough of a slut t'take a demons dick. I'll fuckin' move when ya suck on demon blood. Like Sammy, except a pretty lil' thing like y'does it. Drink up, angel." The crimson red substance was right in front of you.

Your eyes widened. "I —" Jesus christ. You were an angel getting dicked down by a fucking demon. You were in far too deep right now. You leaned forward slightly. "That's it, atta girl." He praised, you didn't pay attention to it if it had an underlaying cruel tone under his words. You just focused on the disgusting demon blood you were about to consume. Your lips wrapped around the wound, the iron — y taste immediately sitting on your tastebuds. That's when you didn't even have time to complain about the thick substance you swallowed —

Because Dean pulled all the way out — well, almost because his tip was still in you. Then he slammed his hips forward, you would've moaned had his arm — and blood you were consuming with some dribbling down your chin onto the wooden table — not been muffling you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. "Fuck, shoulda fucked this pussy a while 'go. Was actually thinkin' bout it." He panted and slowly started a harsh, relentless and fast pace from the get go.

You had time to adjust at the beginning, but now he was just careless, fucking away all and every thought you had. At some point, the table was shaking due to the hard thrusts. Your hips were probably gonna be bruised with the edge of the table digging into your skin.

You heard him groan and gasp behind you, a breathy chuckle escaping him. "So much for innocent angel."

That made you whine — well, as best as you could, still lapping up the blood that was basically like a faucet eacaping him. You were being fucked so good and hard — skin slapping against skin echoing — the light creaks of the table shaking and Deans pants were so incrediblely lewd and loud.

It seemed like there was no end in sight. Except you felt something build up in your abdomen — you weren't sure what it was. If you didn't know how to explain emotions, whatever this was you probably couldn't, either.

You were right there. Until the bunker door opened, your eyes widened and you were surprised Dean didn't even try to stop, he just hummed in amusement. "Hey! We're home —" Sam called out with Castiel whispering something to him. "Yeah — I know." Sam said — probably in response to Castiel. Before he started speaking up once more, his boots clanking against the metal staircase.

"Hello? Anyone home —" Sam's voice died in his throat when Castiels jaw dropped. "Oh." Your eyes flew to them as their eyes were wide. "Oh hey, look. We got an audience. Demon fuckin' an angel in front of their friends. Ain't that funny?" Dean kept going, not a care in the world.

You were fucking embarrassed. And that was for fucking sure.

⏝ 𝅄︶ ͡𑁬 ⚠︎ ໒ ͡ ︶𝅄 ⏝

I didn't proofread this shit and i quite frankly do not want too I HATE THIS SO SO MUCH but i gotta feed yall </3

tags: @pearlzier @fallbhind @beausling @deanswidow @gibson-g1rl @dollsltt

amab vers: im too fucking lazy for this rn...... leave me alone

568 notes · View notes

voidsuites · 16 days ago

Text

MULTI BOT RELEASE !!! (1/31/25) ⌢ ✨ .ᐟ

art donaldson ・゜゜・．noid. tennis has given art everything anyone could ever want— a fulfilling career, you and lily, and countless influential titles and wins— and with him getting closer to becoming a household name, art’s more than aware of his luck. he’s beyond grateful. however, fame’s a double-edged sword and it’s getting harder to both play into the paparazzi and their mind-games and also protect his family, so it’s not a surprise that art loses his temper when those lines finally get crossed. (based off “noid” by tyler the creator!)

bruce wayne・゜゜・．billie bossa nova. underneath all the sneaking around hotel rooms and charity galas, both you and bruce long to be understood for more than just your family names and your money. whatever’s going on between the two of you is merely putting a band-aid on a niger issue, you’re aware, but there’s something about bruce that helps you rationalize the less-than-ideal circumstances. a lot can change in twenty seconds… a lot can happen in the dark. (based off “billie bossa nova” by billie eilish!)

jim hopper ・゜゜・．you’re a fighter. in one moment, all hop had to worry about was you slowly growing more independent and mike wheeler’s insufferable attitude, but now the mind flayer’s set its sights on you and you’ve seemingly lost your powers. setting the mess with the russians beneath starcourt mall aside, hopper’s main priority is making sure you’re safe and away from any more danger. you may be a fighter, but you’re his kid first. (based off “you’re a fighter” by kyle dixon and michael stein!)

joel miller ・゜゜・．western nights. joel knows you’re not supportive of the violent ways he provides for you, but in a post-apocalyptic world morals are put on the back burner while he concerns himself with keeping you both fed, housed, and taken care of. you’re stubborn, he’s stubborn, but you’d never think of taking off and leaving him behind. this time’s no different. (based off “western nights” by ethel cain!)

patrick zweig ・゜゜・．part of your world. mermaids were nothing but a mere children's bedtime story— they weren't real. that’s what patrick’s father had told him since he'd been a boy; that the wondrous creatures he believed in with all his heart were nothing but tall tales meant to put the children of new rochelle to bed with little fight. that’s proven to be false when you rescue him from swimming with the fishes for eternity, and now that he knows your kind is real, patrick just has to learn more. he’ll bring you as many human trinkets for your collection as you’d like if you’d let him be part of your world for a moment. (based off “part of your world” by jodi benson and disney!)

tashi duncan ・゜゜・．bodyguard. wlw. tashi’s always been protective of you since you started seeing each other, but it’s always amusing to see just how worked-up she gets when you’re the center of attention. stanford’s hosting a concert in the park, art and patrick are nowhere to be found, and tashi’s left to keep herself in control lest she “accidentally” scare people off because they’ve looked at you too long. she’ll protect you in the mosh pit, no doubt— but she’s still working on keeping that territorial nature of hers in check. (based off “bodyguard” by beyoncé!)

got a request? go ahead and leave em here :) THANK YOU GUYS SO SO MUCH FOR FOR 10.4K! so excited to get started on my celebration requests— you guys once again are the BEST!!!! i hope all of these are to your liking… but do forgive me if joel is a little too ooc lol i’ve only seen bits of tlou but i tried to capture him right. hehe. i also made a tumblr community for all things voidsuites-oriented 🤭 join yap city if you dare (i’m still figuring out what i’ll post on there but think of it as a communal close friends story on ig haha) anyways i love these characters and i love these songs and i love you all!!!! thank you for making this so much fun for me i’m so grateful <3

179 notes · View notes

damnelves · 7 months ago

Text

MY BROTHER / MY KILLER

"The King James Bible, Genesis 4 / "Black Leopard, Red Wolf" by Marlon James / "Car Crash" by Jenna Andersen / "Stratis Thalassinos Among the Agapanthi" by George Seferis (tr. by Edmund Keeley) / "You are Jeff" by Richard Siken (1) / "Brother" by The Rural Alberta Advantage / "A Brother named Gethsemane" by Natalie Diaz / "Succession" Script (1) / "You are Jeff" by Richard Siken (2) / "Cain Killing Abel" by Pietro Novelli / "The Death of Abel" by Gustave Doré (1866), recolored / "Lupa" by Matthew Nienow / Succession, S04 EP 10, "With Open Eyes" / "My Sister's Keeper" by Jodi Picoult / “Mirror Traps” by Hera Lindsay Bird / post by tumblr user vampowers / "Antigone", tr. by Anne Carson / "6 ways to draw a circle" by tumblr user filmnoirsbian / "Succession" Script (2) / "Courage, Anxiety and Despair Watching The Battle" by James Sant (detail) / "The Plagues", Prince of Egypt, dir. by Brenda Chapman / untitled poem by tumblr user nathanielorion (1) / "After Abel" by Dante Émile / comment from tiktok / "Famous Blue Raincoat" by Leonard Cohen / "For my unnamed brother" by Toi Derricotte / Succession screenshot / untitled, Sue Zhao / untitled poem by tumblr user nathanielorion (2)

#cain and abel #fratricide #paralells #succession #web weaving #web weave #words #mine #the catholic school girl jumped out

370 notes · View notes

sheepstiel · 2 months ago

Text

#sheep poll #yeah yeah i know no destiel third etc<3

106 notes · View notes

kamisobsessed · 2 months ago

Text

CHRISTMAS SAVES THE YEAR

A/N: I haven't written in years, so I'm sorry if this is terrible😭. I've had Christmas Saves The Year by twenty one pilots in my head for days now, and suddenly this idea came to my mind. I didn't edit it so I apologize if there's mistakes.

Characters: Dean Winchester x F!Reader, featuring Sam, and mentions of Castiel, Jack, Jody, Donna, Claire, and Alex. No use of y/n.

Summary: Your boyfriend Dean, and his brother, Sam, are on a hunt during the holdiays. On Christmas Eve, you aren't sure if they will make it home for Christmas. When Christmas Day comes around, you finally have your family back together again.

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, more fluff.

❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆

Snow fell from the sky as you sat in the bunker hoping your boyfriend and his brother make it home for Christmas. A few days ago they went out on a hunt, a vamp nest two states over, it was a piece of cake. But, things don't always go as planned. Earlier that morning, you got a call from your boyfriend, Dean.

"Hey sweetheart, things went a little sideways and we weren't able to clear the nest yet," Dean said on the other end of the phone.

"Oh, okay" you say in a melancholy tone.

"I promise, we will be home soon," he replied, "Can't leave my girl alone on Christmas now, can I?" He lightheartedly said.

You smiled to yourself knowing he will do everything he can to make it home. "Be safe out there," you told him.

"Always. I love you, sweetheart," He answered.

"I love you, Dean," you responded and the line clicked.

You spent most of the day decorating the bunker with whatever little Christmas decorations you could get at the little store down the road. You even baked cookies so the boys had a treat to come home to. You knew they never really celebrated Christmas over the years, and this being your first Christmas with them, you wanted to make it special. This year particularly has been rough, especially since Dean took on the Mark of Cain.

The clock kept ticking on, soon it was nearing midnight. You decided to go to bed, hoping that your boyfriend would be home when you wake up on Christmas Day.

You went to you and Dean's shared room, threw on one of his t-shirts and climbed into bed. After tossing and turning for a while, you finally drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, you woke up, reaching over to Dean's spot in the bed, only to find it still empty and cold. They still weren't home.

You decided to get dressed and ready for the day, hoping they would make it home before Christmas dinner. You invited everyone to come for dinner, Castiel, Jack, and even Jody, Donna, and Claire and Alex.

You spent most of the day in the kitchen cooking a delicious Christmas dinner. As you finished the last pie, you heard the bunker door open.

"We're home" you heard Dean call out.

You smiled and ran out of the kitchen "you made it back!" you cheered with excitement as you gave your boyfriend a big hug.

"I told you, I wasn't leaving my girl alone on Christmas," he grinned.

"Merry Christmas!" Sam smiled holding his arms out and you gave him a hug. "Merry Christmas, Sam," you replied.

"Smells delicious in here sweetheart, that pie I'm smellin'?" Dean asked as he headed toward the kitchen.

You ran up ahead of him, "Yes, it is. But you have to wait until later to eat it," you said putting your hand on his chest to stop him, "Plus, I just pulled it from the oven, it is still hot."

"So not fair," he grumbled.

"I promise, there is a whole pie with your name on it as soon as we finish dinner tonight," You smile at him.

He cocked an eyebrow at you, "is it apple?" he asked.

"Of course," you say.

He grinned as he cupped your face and gave you a big peck on the lips, "fine, I'll let it slide this time."

Before long, everyone was here for dinner. Everyone was laughing, sharing stories, and really enjoying themselves. After dinner, Dean got to eat his apple pie. Then it was time to open presents.

Everyone was gathered around the small Christmas tree in the library. You stood back watching as Jack passed out presents to everyone. Despite the craziness of the last few years, right now in that moment, everyone seemed to forget the chaos. Everyone seemed happy. Dean walked over to you, standing next to you as you both watched everyone open their gifts.

"The pie was amazing sweetheart," he said as he wrapped his arm around your waist, leaning back against the table with you.

"I'm glad you liked it," you smiled at him.

"Come with me, I have something for you," He said, taking your hand. You followed him out of the library and down the hall. "Wait here" he said letting your hand go as he left you standing in the entryway of the kitchen. "Close your eyes, no peaking," he said. You closed your eyes as you waited for him to come back.

"Okay, open," he said. He held out a small box, wrapped in wrapping paper. It wasn't the best wrap job, but it did the trick.

"Oh, Dean, you didn't have to get me anything," you said.

"C'mon, of course I did," he said handing it to you. You carefully unwrapped it and opened the box. It was a necklace with the a charm of the inital "D".

"It's beautiful, thank you," I said as I held it up to look at it.

"Want me to put it on for you?" he asked and you nodded, handing him the necklace. You moved your hair as he put the necklace around your neck and latched it. You looked down at it and then back at Dean, "It's perfect baby, thank you," you smiled, but then you began to frown, "but, I haven't gotten you anything" you say, lowering your head.

"Sweetheart, you're all I need. And, the apple pie was a plus," he said, winking at you.

You grinned, letting out a small chuckle, "I'm so glad you made it home for Christmas."

"Me too," he said.

"It's been a long year, we needed a night to just be together and laugh" you said.

"Be jolly and cheerful and whatever else they say on Christmas," Dean grinned at you.

You playfully rolled your eyes, "Christmas saves the year" you said. You looked up at the mistletoe you hung above the entryway to the kitchen. Dean looked up and noticed the mistletoe hanging there as well.

"Merry Christmas, Dean" you said, as he cupped your face with his hands.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," he replied, leaning in, placing his lips on yours.

❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆❆

A/N: I hope this wasn't bad😭 Wishing everyone a Happy Holidays!🫶🏼

#dean winchester #jensen ackles #supernatural #spn #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean #winchester #spn imagine #spn x reader #dean winchester one shot #sam winchester #jensen #ackles #jensen ackles x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x f!reader #Spotify

79 notes · View notes