#losers clvb

[bettystonewell]

♡♡♡ send this to ten other bloggers that you think are wonderful. keep the game going, make someone smile!!! ♡♡♡

beth!

you were my first mutual. i remember the moment i read the first fic you put on here, i instantly followed you. and you followed me back! i was so honored to finally have a mutual, and it's paid off so well, because you always make my day.

so, thank you for always being amazing <3

Awwww Zoe ❤️ you were actually the first account I followed before I took the courage to reach out to people I knew from AO3 would you believe?

Right back at you my love! I love reading your work, and hope I can continue to do so!

(Ps, waiting for a woman of letters update, unless my notifications ate one up…)

[bettystonewell]

Oh man, that angsty goodness ❤️

Dean you’re an idiot! And our poor girl. I can’t remember if Sam warned her that this was just Dean getting all protective, but I’m so glad that they convinced him to come home.

“Protect me? That’s what you called that little stunt? I was unconscious after a demon attack, but yeah, that makes sense!”

Damn straight!

You’re pulling at my heartstrings with the scene at the end there. Girl can’t cry too much, but I love how he’s brought her into the bed with him. He might be an idiot, but at least he was smart enough to leave it at letting her be comfortable in the bed ❤️

woman of letters pt. 10 // dean winchester

pairing: dean winchester x man of letters!female!reader

summary: sam and dean discover the bunker of the men of letters. expecting it to be empty, they get quite the shock when they meet you.

content: swearing, angst

word count: 3.4k

note: read on wattpad here. read on ao3 here. if you would like to be added to the taglist, let me know!

taglist: @bettystonewell @kaz-2y5-spn @never-here1992 @thestoriesfold @mostlymarvelgirl @dyhsversion @deans-baby-momma @bitchykittenconnoisseur @ladykitana90

masterlist series masterlist previous part next part

----

“She’s under the impression you’re in Minnesota.” Castiel grumbled out. There he was again, in another diner, sitting in front of Dean. Dean nodded at the information, happy that he wouldn’t be found. He was a little suspicious though. All the times Castiel had come to warn him, you had his correct location. This time, he was in Louisiana and you thought he was across the country.

“You’re sure?” Dean asked, picking up a piece of bacon. Castiel nodded. That was what you had said. Minnesota. He could only assume that was where you were headed now. Dean accepted this. If it was what you had said, it must be true.

“How is she?” Dean asked his usual question. You were on his mind always. When he was able to sleep, he dreamt of you. You laughing, you kissing him, you with a little boy that had his eyes and your chin. Thoughts of you plagued him. Everywhere he looked, you were there. There in the wind, there in the books in the bookstores, there in the snarky banter he overheard from couples. All he wanted to do was see you again, smell you, feel your warmth.

But he always stopped himself. He couldn’t be that selfish. He had to keep you safe and the best way to do that was to stay far away.

“Angry, mostly. She and Sam are always fighting. Over you, over the situation.” Castiel answered. Dean sighed. He figured as much. You wouldn’t let him go, and he didn’t know why. Maybe the demon had been right when it had said you loved him, but he didn’t think so. He wasn’t someone that people could easily love. He was stubborn and sarcastic and didn’t know how to voice his emotions. These things he knew, but he couldn’t change them, not easily anyway.

“She’ll get over it.” Dean amended, taking a bite out of his bacon. You would have to. There was no other way.

“I’m not so sure.” Castiel mumbled before the flap of wings announced his departure. Dean was left alone, with no one to joke with, no one to hurt. Just what he wanted, but he didn’t realize the loneliness would carve so deep.

----

The next day arrived in a hazy morning light. You and Sam had been driving through the night, switching off halfway through the journey. You drove in silence as Sam dozed off in the passenger seat. No music played, you barely even breathed. If Dean wasn’t in this town when you got there, you would bring Heaven and Hell down to find him. You were angry before, but now you were utterly pissed.

Dean dared to leave you. He dared to stay hidden for all this time. He dared to have some angel play as your babysitter.

He didn’t get to do this to you. He didn’t get to run away and hide like a child. You were certain you would never give him the chance to hurt you like this again.

Your grip tightened on the steering wheel as you blinked to stay awake. While Sam had opted to take a nap in his off time, you didn’t have the same thought. You had stayed awake, had been awake for around seventeen hours now. You were exhausted, but you couldn’t sleep, at least, not yet.

You turned down a road, past the motel where traffic cameras had caught Dean at. The Impala wasn’t there, so you assumed that meant he wasn’t either. You brushed that off. It was morning, he was probably awake by now. You pushed the gas pedal down, speeding up while driving around town.

Finally, you spotted a sign advertising a diner. Perfect. Dean Winchester loved diners, and you knew he would be hungry. He was always hungry. The thought sent a pang through your heart. You didn’t want to remember things like that. You didn’t want to know how his breath sounded while he slept. You didn’t want to know his favorite food or the way he looked when he was confused. You didn’t want to know because it meant that you cared. And if you cared it meant that Dean could still hurt you.

The diner wasn’t anything special. You had seen a million of them by that point, every town had one. The siding was slightly dirty, the paint chipping away on the wooden bench that sat just outside the door. No, it wasn’t special in itself, but the black Impala parked outside made it look like nothing you had ever seen before.

You pulled into the parking lot, opting for a spot just off to the side. You didn’t need Dean to spot you and make a run for it. You turned the car off before nudging Sam softly on the shoulder. He awoke slowly, blinking away his sleep.

“Is he here?” Sam asked, voice gravelly. He glanced around, searching his surroundings for any clue as to where he was. He was hoping, praying even, that Dean was here. He missed his brother.

“Yes.” You spoke, breathing out the word. You were preparing yourself for when you would go in, for when you would see Dean. Sam watched you, running a hand through his hair to make himself look presentable.

“I can go in and get him.” Sam offered. You turned your head to look at him, eyes full of appreciation. You nodded quickly, looking back to the side of the building you were staring at. Sam nodded back, unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing out of the car.

You watched Sam walk across the cement, hands in the pockets of his jacket. He disappeared inside the diner and you could hear the muffled tingle of the bell announcing his arrival. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, thinking over what was going to happen.

You stay here, Dean maybe listens to Sam and follows the two of you back to the bunker. Or, you stay here, Dean doesn’t listen to Sam and sneaks away again, leaving you to look for him again. Or, the option you ended up choosing, you go in to control the situation.

While you were weighing your options, Sam was sliding into the booth seat opposite of Dean. The older Winchester had an almost empty plate in front of him, the syrup coating the plate telling Sam that his brother had pancakes. Dean looked up in alarm, wondering who would have dared to bother him. His face fell when he saw Sam. No. Why was he here? How was he here?

“Sammy, how-?” Dean started, but the way Sam’s eyes drifted to look over his shoulder caught his attention. He turned around, craning his neck to see you. You. His girl. It made his heart drop to his stomach. You were standing by the door, hands in the pockets of your jacket in order to keep yourself from reaching for him. Your face was stony, not quite enraged but also not completely happy to see him.

What he didn’t see was the relief you felt. You had finally found him.

“It’s over, man.” Sam said, breaking Dean’s attention from you. He turned back to Sam and it was like he was seeing him for the first time that day. Sam looked exhausted. He had bags under his eyes, just like you did. His skin was paler than it had been the last time he saw him. “It’s time to come home.”

The way you two looked broke Dean’s heart. He had known that you and Sam wouldn’t have been happy with his leaving, but he didn’t think it would affect you this much. He let out a breath of defeat, nodding. He knew it was over. He would have to come back home, or else you would never stop looking for him. He would have to find a different way to keep you safe.

 ----

You hadn’t spoken to him yet. It had been thirteen hours of driving and thirteen hours of silence. You had insisted, while very obviously ignoring Dean, on riding along with him. It wasn’t because you wanted to be near him. No. It was because you were worried Dean would take the drive as an opportunity to run again. So, here he was, driving back to the bunker while you stared out the window.

Dean mumbled your name, just loud enough for you to hear. You flinched at the sound but didn’t look to him. He would have thought you were sleeping if he couldn’t have seen your eyes in the reflection of the window.

“I’m sorry.” Dean spoke. You didn’t move. He sighed in frustration. You had devoted all your time, your entire attention, to finding him. Now that you had him, you wouldn’t even look at him? Really?

“Just look at me.” Dean’s voice was a little louder this time. You didn’t move. You didn’t even seem to be hearing him. Dean rolled his eyes, watching the road.

“You can’t just ignore me.” Dean tried again. You didn’t move. This was ridiculous. He expected you to be angry, but he assumed that would have meant yelling and hitting, not whatever this was.

Dean gritted his teeth together and yanked the steering wheel to the side, pulling the car off the road aggressively. Finally, you moved. You made a noise of surprise and grabbed at anything to keep your body from slamming into the dash. Dean shoved the shifter into park and turned to you, face hard. You looked back at him like he was insane. Who the hell does something like that?

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” You shouted at him, balling your hands into fists. Dean scoffed. Really, that was all it took?

“So what, you’re talking to me now?” Dean seethed out. You scoffed now, crossing your arms together.

“Only because you’re acting like a madman!”

“You wouldn’t talk to me!” Dean braced himself, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the seat next to him. You watched him, sure your face was flushed with anger. You didn’t know if you wanted to kiss him or kill him, but you figured either option wouldn’t be very wise.

“You left me! You! I woke up and you…” you breathed in to steady yourself, “you were gone. I didn’t know where you went, why you went!” You were heaving out the words now. Dean didn’t want this. He just wanted you to be safe, but you wouldn’t see that. You couldn’t see it.

“I left to protect you! Do you know how many freakin’ monsters follow me everywhere I go? I’m public enemy number one in the monster world, and if they can’t get me, they go for you!” Dean shouted back. You were seeing red. How had he turned this into your fault?

“Protect me? That’s what you called that little stunt? I was unconscious after a demon attack, but yeah, that makes sense! Just admit that you made a mistake!” You were pushing back, breathing heavily.

“It wasn’t a mistake if it kept you safe! Do you think I wanted to leave you? Huh?” Dean questioned, raising his eyebrows to further make his point. You glared at him.

“You could have kept me safe yourself!” You yelled, gesturing with your hands. Dean nodded sarcastically.

“Yeah, well, remember what you said: everyone around me dies.” Dean grumbled. It was a weak argument and you both knew it.

“It was a fucking demon, Dean! I didn’t say it!” You argued back, jabbing your fingers into your chest to gesture to yourself.

“Your mouth said it!” Dean yelled. It was true. Whenever he looked back on the whole interaction with the demon, he couldn’t get it out of his head. The demon had known exactly what to say to hurt him and make it stick.

“My mouth also said that I loved you, but you seem to forget that part!” You shouted at him, throwing your hands up. Dean remembered this, remembered thinking it couldn’t be true.

“Do you love me?” Dean blurted out. His question didn’t soften his voice, it was born out of pure exasperation. There wasn’t any way you could love him.

“Yes, Dean, I do love you! I really do!” The confession tumbled out before you could stop it. Unlike the movies, it didn’t stop your argument. It only seemed to egg it on.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dean shouted. His hands were shaking. He couldn’t handle this feeling. Why did it hurt so bad to learn that you loved him?

“Would it have stopped you from leaving?” You asked, tone frustrated. That seemed to shut him up. He didn’t answer. He couldn’t, because the truth was, no, it wouldn’t have stopped him. It would have only made him run that much more. Dean swallowed down all of that, tears stinging at the back of his eyes.

“That’s what I thought.” You said. Your voice was calm, like the waves of anger you had felt settled down into a small lake of something else. You turned away from Dean, looking back at the window. You wrapped your arms around yourself, hoping he couldn’t see the light trickle of tears rolling down your cheeks.

Dean did see them. Of course he saw them. It was just another thing to make him hate himself. He stopped himself from reaching out to comfort you, fingertips buzzing with the need, by shifting the car into drive. Back on the road, he tried to ignore the miniscule sobs that escaped from you, muffled by the collar of your jacket.

You tried not to cry, you really did. You had done a great job of it so far, never letting a tear fall while searching for Dean. But you had him back now. Here he was, sitting next to you, and he had just told you your love wasn’t enough to make him stay. You had figured that much, but hearing him say it out loud seemed to make something break inside you. You weren’t enough for him.

----

The moment Dean pulled into the garage of the bunker, you pushed out of the car. You beelined it straight for your room, slamming the door behind you. Dean was getting some sick sense of deja vu to the first time he had kissed you. The way you ran from him then was almost identical to how you ran then. Both times it was his fault.

You could hear Dean’s boots against the stone floor as he walked past your room to his own. You wished you could stop yourself from crying, but once the first tears came, the rest followed. You weren’t completely falling apart, not yet, but it was still something you weren’t used to. When your parents had died, you hadn’t really known what was happening, and once you did, you only felt peace with the situation. When your grandfather died, you understood the finality of it and accepted it. But this, this you didn’t want to accept. You didn’t want to accept that you -- your love -- hadn’t been enough.

You let your pillows take the brunt of the tears, using them to muffle your cries. You ignored it when someone knocked on your door. They walked away after a second knock, so you could only assume it was Sam. Dean would have invited himself in.

That reminded you. Dean had never said he loved you back. Which meant he didn’t love you back. You felt like your whole body was getting ripped in two. Was this heartbreak? The unrequited love that all those characters had felt? No wonder depression was a common side effect from breakups. This was horrible. The worst thing you had ever felt, worse than a demon invading your body.

You tried to sleep, you really did, but every time you heard the smallest of noises outside of your room, you w0uld peek your head out to make sure Dean wasn’t leaving again. By the fifth noise, you had began to pace in front of his room, contemplating if you should check on him. Was he there, or had he silently slid past your room?

You decided to risk it. Even if he hadn’t left, he should be sleeping by now. You stealthily twisted the doorknob, opening the door just enough to see Dean’s face staring back at you through the crack. You gasped and yanked the door shut. He didn’t confront you about it, but now you were left in the hallway alone.

You did notice the way your anxiety lessened when you had seen him there. You just needed to see him, make sure he wasn’t gone. When you opened the door again, it was against your own will. Something else was controlling your movements entirely.

There he was again, staring at you. His eyes were soft. If you hadn’t known any better you would have thought he was crying too. That couldn’t be right, though, because what did he have to cry about?

This time instead of closing the door, you were stuck to your spot. It was a strange picture, you and Dean staring each other down, you in the hall, him in his bed. You didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to take your eyes off of him.

Fortunately for you, Dean didn’t want that either. He wanted you right where he could see you, right where he could touch you. You loved him. That was all that mattered. Though he supposed you were probably loving him a little less right now. Nevermind that, he offered you a half-hearted smile and cleared his throat.

“You gonna stand there all night or are you gonna come in?” He asked, trying his best not to sound angry. You blinked at him, still unmoving. Could you really go in?

You decided, yes, you could go in. You just wouldn’t go into his bed. It wasn’t fair to either of you since -- as far as you knew -- he didn’t love you back. You settled into the chair that was stationed at his desk, back straight as you faced him. You were leaned up against the wall. Dean frowned.

“Are you gonna sleep there?” Dean asked, knowing there was no way it was comfortable. You nodded.

“Just come over here.” Dean sighed out, patting a hand on the spot next to him. You couldn’t lie, it was enticing. The soft blankets, the plush of the mattress, the heat from Dean, but you couldn’t. It would only make things more complicated.

“I’m fine.” You mumbled and Dean knew it would be the end of that. You kept your eyes on him for as long as you could, but eventually your eyelids grew far too heavy. You hadn’t slept longer than a few hours in months. The relief of having Dean back outweighed the pain of everything he had said.

Dean hadn’t been sleeping. He had tried, but the thought of you sat up in that old wooden chair made him hurt. He hated himself for leaving. Nothing good had come from it. He didn’t regret the reasons for why he had left, but it had only pushed you away from him. The soft snores coming from you alerted him to the fact that you were sleeping. Good. Now it didn’t matter how stubborn you were going to be.

Dean pulled himself out of bed and shuffled over to you. He paused when you stirred, but continued on after you had stayed asleep. He crouched down to pick you up in his arms, mind flashing to when he had carried you to the infirmary after your attack. He shook the image off and focused instead on the way you relaxed in his arms.

Dean placed you on his bed and tucked you into the blankets before sliding in beside you. He stopped himself from cuddling into you. He knew he had a lot of work to do before he could do something like that again, knew he had to learn to forget the demon’s words in your voice.

Instead he fell asleep on his side, watching the way you curled into yourself, the way your nose twitched while you slept. He was going to get you back, on way or the other. You were his girl, afterall.

[plasticflowersinahistorycemetery]

zoe??? oh... you mean... the loml?? that zoe???

[soldiersgirl]

tell me more about this soldier boy angst... pretty please...

she's currently standing at almost 2k words and im NOWHERE NEAR DONE YEEEET

its based on the song "not in the same way" by 5sos but slightly differently, i didn't take direct inspiration from the dynamic in the song but i was inspired to explore it in another way. theres pining, insecurity, will they/won't they dynamic. YUMMY!!!!

[chevroletdean]

🙂‍↕️ 🤝

Study Sessions

PAIRING: Sam x Fem!Reader GENRE: Smut (18+ CONTENT) TO NOTE/WARNINGS: PWP, cockwarming, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it), Dom!Sam manhandling poor reader, dirty talk, not betaread WORD COUNT: 1k PROMPT: 14) library sex for those dark academia vibes A/N: Thanks @deanwinchestersgirl8734 for requesting this one! I have to get a bunch of these out, so I will try my best to make them a bit shorter. Sorry for the wait. CREDIT & LINKS: dividers by cafekitsune ─〃★ join the taglist ─〃★ Sam Masterlist

All you did was shift, ever so slightly. Your position wasn’t exactly comfortable and the throbbing ache between your legs was starting to drive you insane.

Large hands immediately responded to your subtle squirm, Sam’s hold on you tightening to stop your movement. Though you bit your lower lip, you couldn’t help but whimper.

“I told you to hold still, baby,” Sam sighed in disapproval. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, which honestly sounded more like a sob than an apology.

Not that Sam seemed to care. Or if he did, he didn’t show it. For all you knew he was probably grinning to himself, all proud of turning you into such a mess without even doing anything.

Soft rustling of paper echoed off the walls as Sam flipped to the next page and continued reading.

Not fair.

Technically, this was Sam’s fault anyway. He couldn’t possibly blame you for getting twitchy.

Your legs were aching, in the best way possible. Who knows how much time has passed, how long you’ve been sitting in his lap like this. It felt like hours at this point. Hours of him keeping you right there, your legs spread out over his thighs, his cock nestled right inside of you.

You felt so damn full, the stretch both delicious and agonizing.

This started as a simple joke, him teasing you for being so needy, you teasing him for paying more attention to his books. When he claimed he could do both, you challenged him to prove it. What started with you thinking you had the upper hand and could make him snap ended with you teetering on the edge.

“Sammy,” you whined.

“Shh, just one more chapter,” Sam cooed softly. His thumb rubbed circled over your hip, but the touch wasn’t soothing whatsoever. Not when his length was bruising your cervix, making you crave anything. Literally anything. A grind, a thrust, some form of stimulation.

Sweat was sticking to your forehead already from accomodating his girth, cockwarming him for way too long. Your patience was running thin, so the complaint left your lips before you thought it through: “You already said that like ten minutes ago!”

“Such a greedy brat,” Sam grumbled in response.

Suddenly, he snapped his hips forward, somehow pushing even deeper into you. You gasped, almost jolting were it not for his large arm encircling your waist from behind and pulling you down on him.

The sensation had your toes curl. He made you feel every inch and you were much more sensitive than you anticipated.

“Can’t even sit still for a while and let me do my job,” Sam scolded, discarding his book and reaching out to your center instead. His hand nudged its way between your thighs, long fingers finding your swollen clit like it was second nature.

You hissed softly, throwing your head back against his shoulder. Another sob escaped you when he rubbed tight circles over the bundle of nerves, pace relentless and pressure too rough to handle.

“S-Sam, slow down,” you cried. Your shaky fingers encircled his wrist, but you stood no chance against his strength.

“You wanted my full attention, now you have it,” Sam reminded you, his voice hot and heavy in your ear. “Bit off more than you could chew, didn’t you?”

Your thighs were shaking, held open by Sam’s knees. His hot mouth found home in the curve of your neck, licking and biting hungrily. All while he continued thrusting in and out of you, each stroke making you see stars.

His name was suddenly the only word you could remember, a chant you repeated like a prayer while you clenched around him.

Suddenly Sam lifted you off his lap and you would’ve whined at the loss of contact, were it not for him bending you over and pinning you against the bookshelf. You gripped onto the wood for dear life and for a split second worried it would give out under your shove. Your concerns were wiped from your mind the second Sam lined up at your dripping entrance.

“This what you wanted?,” he huffed, coating his length with your essence by gliding it through your folds deliberately. “Distracting me so I’ll fuck you stupid?”

You could only nod weakly, which had Sam fist at your hair and pull you back against him. You nearly lost your balance, grasping at the shelf last second and knocking down a couple of books in the process.

“Yes, Sam,” you corrected yourself desperately, “Need you— Please.”

He chuckled briefly, his lips grazing your temple in a rewarding peck. “Wasn’t so hard now, was it? Now hold on tight f’me.”

With that last warning, you barely managed to steady yourself before he drove back into you, deep and relentless, nearly making you buckle. Even after feeling him inside for such a long time, you could never really get used to this feeling. If anything, he’s rendered you tender and sensitive, the slightest movement feeling like straight up lightning now.

You were gushing over his pulsating cock before you knew it, legs shaking under you and your whole body tightening. Sam held you close, dragging out your high until you basically slumped in his embrace. With one more final thrust, he stilled within you, white warmth spilling into you.

Despite being dizzy, you nodded when Sam asked you if you were okay. Your body felt beyond exhausted, but you managed to stay upright as he slowly pulled out of you and ran a soothing hand over your hair.

“Good study session,” you joked weakly, a tired, lazy smile on your lips as you peeked at him from over your shoulder.

“And I’m not nearly done yet,” Sam chuckled between ragged breaths. He slumped back into the armchair, the leather creaking softly as he pulled you back into his lap.

📚 Sam Winchester Taglist:

@alwaysdaydreamingoffiction @angelicjackles @bejeweledinterludes @deanswifeyy @ifritpng

@justwhisperingfantasies @kamisobsessed @ladykitana90 @mahi-wayy @missus-ackles

@s7nburn @slut4axkles @spn-reader

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[pieandflannel]

hey girlie, could you do a dean x reader where he finds out she's a squirter? thanks xxx

౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ like a faucet

pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

summary: dean uses a new fingering technique that makes you squirt for the first time.

cw: 18+ smut.ᐟ fingering.ᐟ squirting.ᐟ

word count: 445

julia yaps: thank you for trusting me with your request! hope you like it! <3

────────── 💦 ──────────

dean was always good when it came to pleasuring you, like hella good. but tonight? he was something else. it’s as if he was using a new technique or something, which he was.

he couldn’t help himself but read that article about female pleasure you had accidentally left open on the laptop. after all it was like you were asking for him to read it.

his fingers worked in perfect rhythm, drawing out constant moans from your pretty parted lips. you just couldn’t control your volume. your fists grasping the fabric of the bedsheets for dear life as your hips bucked against his hand.

“you like that sweetheart?” he coaxed, his voice low and full of cocky satisfaction, noticing the results of this new pussy play technique he desperately wanted to try out.

his fingers stretching your hole open, slow but deliberate strokes, teasing that sweet spot deep inside you, over and over and over again.

his thumb circling your clit with enough pressure to have your hips grind against his hand, desperate whines and erotic moans bouncing off his bedroom walls as you lay on his bed with your legs wide open, his fingers playing with your pretty little pussy. sam and cas definitely hearing you from across the bunker.

“s-so good” you manage to cry out, your mind turning to mush from the intense pleasure. “d-dean~”

you were close, so so close. but the intensity kept building and building, forming into something almost too much to handle. a sharp gasp tore from your lips as the tension snapped, a cry leaving your lips as pleasure crashed over you, not like a tidal wave, but a goddamn tsunami.

something wet gushing from between your legs, soaking dean’s hand, the sheets, everything. dean just made you squirt, hard.

your body shook, the overwhelming feeling flushing over you, your eyes widened as you’ve never experienced this before, you didn’t even know you were able to do that.

your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you hide your face in your hands, but dean just grins, looking downright smug as he stared at the mess you’ve made.

“well, damn” he chuckled cockily, dragging his soaked fingers over your skin, deliberately spreading the wetness all over your swollen clit and lips.

“didn’t know you could do that sweetheart, but I sure as hell ain’t complaining.” his smirk prideful, his ego fed knowing he just made you squirt like a faucet.

“sorry about your bed..” you spoke after finally catching your breath. dean shakes his head with a smile.

“don’t apologise darling, we’ll just sleep in your room tonight, i’ll clean this up tomorrow” he reassures you with a forehead kiss.

thank you so much for reading! feedback and reblogs are always deeply appreciated <3

tags: @jensino @emeraldcrs @soldiersgirl @jensenacklesballsack @missus-ackles @littlesoulshine @deanswifeyy @slut4jackles @h8aaz @figisonline @figthoughts @angelicjackles @losers-clvb @lyarr24 @cowboysandcigarettes @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis

𑁥౿ check out my masterlist for other works!

♡ see this post to be added to the taglist!

© pieandflannel – do not plagiarise or repost any of my work!

© reserved for photo/gif owners!

[dingo-ate-my-hot-lettuce-crazy]

Dean Winchester Fanfic Recs

a/n: these are all fan fictions that I think deserve more recognition or some that I will always go back to reread ! and if you're one of the authors and prefer I don't @ your work for whatever reason lmk and ill remove it <3

One-shots/Imagines/Drabbles

Angst

Stabbed by @watermelonlipstick

Stubborn Comfort by @wearywinchester

Comfort Crowd by @mind-empty-just-fictional-people

He's Not a Machine! by @mind-empty-just-fictional-people

Hold on to Me by @supernatural-fangirl1967

Restless Nights by @zepskies

aftermath by @valjy

Touch by @supernotnatural2005

stitches by @dewwinchester

what am i supposed to do, if theres no you by @losers-clvb

Fluff

Dating Dean Winchester Headcanons by @fooshigoomies

Being Dean's Wife by @deanbrainrotwritings

Too Many Beds by @mind-empty-just-fictional-people

Faithfully by @fanfictionalraven

Get a Room. by @em-ontv

Every Day That You Want by @godmadeaterribleerror

i feel so high school every time i look at you ... by @deerlysacred

Miniskirt by @wendichester

photobooth by @honeyryewhiskey

Smut

To Need Somebody by @godmadeaterribleerror

Hold You Tight in My Mind by @godmadeaterribleerror

I'll Crawl Home by @godmadeaterribleerror

The Hiatus Beard by @supernotnatural2005

Dean x Reader Series + Miniseries

Canon/Canon-Compliant

Well, Hello there stranger by @talesmaniac89

Sleeping Awake by @talesmaniac89

Carry On by @jawritter

Genesis Primus: A Supernatural Series Rewrite by @dianawinchester03

Reno by @fanfictionalraven

Babylon the Great by @godmadeaterribleerror

Death on Holiday by @godmadeaterribleerror

AU

Escape by @soaringeag1e

The Man in Apartment 43 by @talesmaniac89

Home to You by @smol-and-grumpy

Legally Yours by @smol-and-grumpy

The Arrangement by @supernotnatural2005

Smoke Eater by @zepskies

[sacr1ficialang3l]

It was love, I guess⋆˚࿔

⋆˚࿔ She is quiet, observant, lonely. She doesn’t raise her voice, doesn’t put up a fight. She just sits on the roof of her house, reading her paperbacks, listening to music, and watching the people of Sioux Falls roam around. A small Midwest town girl who watches life from the sidelines, she is immediately entranced by the guy with the guns in his locker.

⋆˚࿔ He is angsty, older, angry. He paces around Singer Salvage Yard, kicking rocks and grumbling about his father dropping Sam and him off at Bobby’s when he could be out there helping. Daddy’s good little soldier, always ready to take a beating without shedding a tear, finds himself caught off guard by the girl with the soft voice and even softer touch.

⋆˚࿔ An unexpected pair, they soon find out that their souls are made of the same thing. But he is troubled, too much on his shoulders, something wrong in his brain. She is scared, angry, and lost in love.

⋆˚࿔ He pulls away, she lets him. He comes back, she opens the door for him. She sees right through him, sees more than the leather jacket and the cigarette between his fingers. Will he let her in completely, or will he leave again and not come back this time?

“And I found photographs of our school, on the day we met I thought that you were so beautiful, it was love, I guess”

INSIDE THE PHOTO ALBUM:

⋆˚࿔ His window’s already passed, so he’s shooting at the glass.⋆˚࿔

⋆˚࿔ Pretty boy, natural blood-stained blond⋆˚࿔

⋆˚࿔ Feeling me up as a pornstar dies⋆˚࿔

⋆˚࿔ I wanna uh him in the back of his dad’s Impala 67⋆˚࿔

⋆˚࿔ I knew it was love⋆˚࿔

⋆˚࿔ Good men die too, so I’d rather be with you⋆˚࿔

NOTES: I am actually so excited about this!!! I've been planning this series for a few days. The first few chapters are already written so expect them soon. You know I love writing something inspired by Ethel so I'm genuinely so happy about this project. Hope you love it as much as I do and please let me know what you think!

TAGS: @littlesoulshine @mostlymarvelgirl @pink-ghost666 @h8aaz @otteropera @xoswiftieprincess @tinas111 @blossomingorchids @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @losers-clvb @pieandflannel<3

If you wanna be tagged in future works, let me know!!

[wvffles]

comfort fic recs ⋆˚࿔

→ one shot edition

ᯓ a collection of some stories that are comforting to me 💙 (i'm a simple creature of habit, a complete sucker for hurt/comfort if you will) also just so this isn't super duper long i’m going to limit myself, but there are sooo many fics that I love to reread :') // if you're on this list and want to be removed pls lmk !! I mean no harm or inconvenience ˙✦

ᯓ for the most part these are sfw, but some stories might contain or allude to smut, pls heed all individual story warnings and tags ᝰ.ᐟ

⭑.ᐟ supernatural

⋆˚࿔ dean winchester

✎ᝰ. the old fashioned way dean x soulmate!reader ⋆˚࿔ by @zepskies

summary: you and dean are having trouble trying to start a family. what happens when you turn to a spell for a possible solution? 

✎ᝰ. down to the crust dean x reader ⋆˚࿔ by zepskies

summary: you’ve set out on a very specific mission for dean. the problem is, you now have ulterior motives for your (formerly) pure love of baking.

✎ᝰ. lovin' you dean x reader ⋆˚࿔ by @supernotnatural2005

summary: it’s that time of the month and dean is there to save the day.

✎ᝰ. better dean x reader ⋆˚࿔ by @wearywinchester  

summary: when your cold turns more serious and things take a turn, dean is there every step of the way.

✎ᝰ. comfort treats dean x reader ⋆˚࿔ by @impala-dreamer

summary: pain/period comfort drabble

✎ᝰ. next dean x reader ⋆˚࿔ by @dewwinchester

summary: a little cutesy piece basically about reader and dean living a very normal life and leaving hunting

✎ᝰ. spring cleaning dean winchester x plus size!afab!reader ⋆˚࿔ by @studiogrimm810

summary: a tiring day of helping dean clean up the impala has left you exhausted, sensitive, and self-critical. especially after finding something from dean’s bachelor days

✎ᝰ. apple pie and valentine's surprises dean winchester x girlfriend!reader ⋆˚࿔ by @losers-clvb

summary: it's yours and dean's first valentine's day together! the pressure is on you both to make it perfect for each other, but things don't go according to plan.

✎ᝰ. not a lot, just forever dean winchester x pregnant!reader ⋆˚࿔ by @take-it-on-the-run

summary: after throwing up morning after morning, the reader discovers her illness isn't what she initially thought.

✎ᝰ. no sleeping alone dean x reader ⋆˚࿔ by @silksandcravats

summary: headcanon on boyfriend!dean who does not condone sleeping apart from you

✎ᝰ. leather jacket and pumpkin spice latte dean winchester x gn!reader ⋆˚࿔ by @chevroletdean

summary: wearing dean's leather jacket

⋆˚࿔ sam winchester

✎ᝰ. frowny sam winchester x gn!reader ⋆˚࿔ by @tusk-rumours

summary: you're frowny and in pain on your period, and sam's there to make you feel better

✎ᝰ. natural sam winchester x gn!afab!reader ⋆˚࿔ by @samsblades

summary: five times that you and sam are woken in the middle of the night, and one time you get to sleep in.

✎ᝰ. crybaby sam winchester x fem!reader ⋆˚࿔ by @chxrrywines

summary: post argument hurt/comfort

✎ᝰ. the comforts of home sam winchester x f!reader ⋆˚࿔ by zepskies

summary: sam forgets to take care of himself at times. you do your best to remind him, and be there when he needs you to lean on. but sam winchester’s getting a bit too heavy, and you’re starting to feel a little under-appreciated around here.

✎ᝰ. hold me, console me established sam winchester x witch!reader / sam winchester x gn afab!reader ⋆˚࿔ by @saltcxrcle

summary: sam's not answering your texts, so you panic and track him down to a hospital OR where dean finds out that you and sam are dating.

✎ᝰ. busted sam winchester x reader ⋆˚࿔ by impala-dreamer

summary: you stumble home drunk one night with plans for the younger winchester, but your stomach, and his feelings, have other ideas..

✎ᝰ. soft skin sam winchester x plus size!afab!reader ⋆˚࿔ by studiogrimm810

summary: a night of comparing yourself to the beautiful women around you has lead your own self image to be severely tainted and sam just can't have that

✎ᝰ. heat wave sam winchester x fem!reader ⋆˚࿔ by saltcxrcle

summary: heat waves suck in the bunker

✎ᝰ. crimson waves established sam winchester x fem!reader ⋆˚࿔ by saltcxrcle

summary: you're on your period and sam is the best boyfriend ever

✎ᝰ. dead eyes sam winchester x gn!reader ⋆˚࿔ by samsblades

summary: killing a shifter with sam’s appearance scares you to the point of a panic attack.

✎ᝰ. my hero doctor!sam winchester x reader ⋆˚࿔ by @trektraveler

summary: doctor sam wInchester had fallen hard for the woman living just down the hall. she was easily the most adorable and the most accident-prone creature he had ever met! yet for all the times he came to her rescue, he was too shy to make a move. maybe he could work up his courage, if he got just one more chance...

⭑.ᐟ other jackles characters

⋆˚࿔ soldier boy (ben)

✎ᝰ. the best kind of medicine soldier boy x f!reader ⋆˚࿔ by @lamentationsofalonelypotato

summary: when ben hasn't heard from you in a few days, he drops by only to find you in a compromising position.

✎ᝰ. in the dark soldier boy x f!reader ⋆˚࿔ by zepskies

summary: you and ben have tackled the insurmountable together, but no one said the recovery would be easy.

✎ᝰ. sweet and sour soldier boy x female reader ⋆˚࿔ by @wildwestdean

summary: when you get back home after drinking a little too much, a sweeter side of ben slips out to take care of you. though you quickly learn that with him, you can't have any sweet without a little sour

⭑.ᐟ criminal minds

⋆˚࿔ aaron hotchner

✎ᝰ. where it hurts the most aaron hotchner x ex!reader ⋆˚࿔ by @alinathinkstoomuch

summary: getting shot is bad. bleeding out in your boss-slash-ex’s arms? somehow, worse.

✎ᝰ. we'll be okay aaron hotchner x reader ⋆˚࿔ by @ssahotchnerr

summary: after a bad argument and a long night of drinking, aaron gently takes care of you although you drunkly insist you don't need his help, making up along the way.

✎ᝰ. spontaneous phenomena aaron hotchner x reader ⋆˚࿔ by @luveline

summary: hotch touches your face much more than a boss should. or, 5 times you have a nosebleed +1 time hotch does.

⋆˚࿔ spencer reid

✎ᝰ. all I do is try, try, try post prison!spencer x genius!fem!reader ⋆˚࿔ by @pencil-n-pen

summary: all your life, you’ve been second-best. even now that you’ve been chosen to be an agent of the BAU, you’re just a replacement for spencer reid. what could change now that’s he’s out?

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

me after saying this wouldn’t be too long, lol

ᯓ I tried to keep the descriptions as authentic as possible, also if there’s multiple stories from the same author I only tagged once to avoid overtagging(?) but their name is in bold beside the title, all credits to their respective creators !!

ᯓ I for sure want to make more rec lists in the future (spice, series, headcanons, sibling dynamics, other characters i read for, etc etc... the possibilities are endless) but I also don't like to bother people so i'm kinda...testing the waters with this <3 :)

ᯓ happy reading and support writers, always ♡ !!

[bettystonewell]

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Hehe - I made it this way because my head was being practical. Could you imagine being so sex craved every month? Nothing would get done lol

It’s coming next chapter I promise, and more than one thing is coming…

TO YOU I BELONG: CHAPTER 6

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Summary: Dean isn't looking for a mate, and the last place he expects to meet his soulmate is while on a case. Fate ain't real. He still has free will, and saving you is just another part of the job. Except, monsters aren't the only things you need saving from... 18+ only MDNI

Chapter Word Count: 4.5k words

Chapter Warnings: language, fluff, smut implied

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

The Men of Letters bunker was full of many wondrous and wacky things. From weapons to ancient texts, to objects that looked like they’d been pulled right out of a sci-fi movie. 

Some were dangerous, plenty were extremely so, and others, Dean wouldn’t touch even if he was wearing a lead-lined radioactive safety suit. Screw ten-feet poles. 

Sam would say the same about the vast collection of handwritten reports and records the place had, too, but he would be wrong. Dean did, in fact, read on occasion. And it wasn’t just in times of researching for cases or when he had the mark. 

Sometimes he simply got bored.

It’s how he’d stumbled on one particular document regarding mated pairs from another world and learned that not all of Chuck’s creations had heats, ruts and knots like they assumed. Although he should’ve known that without reading it in a file. He always knew there was something funny about the doppelgangers in the Fiat besides the other Sammy’s man-bun. 

Douchebuggery aside, somewhere in God’s vast universe, there were humans who weren’t categorised by secondary gender and thus alpha males who didn’t have bulbous muscles at the base of their dicks. 

Yup. There was at least one Dean Winchester whose junk was the same width the whole way along, except for the tip. That perv Sinclair, who’d written on the subject the most, had actually drawn a picture of one. Not his, per se, but some random guy’s. Dean hoped.

There were also no marks or claims. No soulmate’s even. Just straight up male and female pairs, shacking up together, sometimes casual, but when serious, showing off their unions with rings and a piece of paper. 

This world and its marriage thing sounded so much simpler in some ways. No marking meant no biting, and no knotting meant you could fuck off once you were done. That had to be convenient for one-night stands. 

Who’d complain about that?

But this society had another thing Dean remembered, and it was something that seemed to fit what the past two weeks had been like for him and you.

The honey-days period. 

At least, that sounded about right. He wasn’t about to reread the file again because the dick pick had scarred him for life.

Whatever the name was, after meeting four weeks prior, that was the stage he was at in his relationship with you, minus the swanky hotel and room service. 

Every moment you had been together had been spent well, together. And Dean hadn’t had enough. 

Was he whipped? Maybe. Obsessed? If that label satisfied Sammy, then sure. But as he looked down at you, lying satiated on top of him, he didn’t care, because the word that came to mind for him was happy. And the happiest he’d been in his life to date that he could recall.

He’d slept like a baby last night, and your wake-up call earlier had been awesome. Exactly what he needed after another long hunt away. 

His arms wrapped tighter around you, basking in the afterglow of your latest romp in the sheets. Not that they were anywhere nearby. One half had ended up tangled in his ankles, while the other was on the floor. 

He nuzzled his chin into your hair. The smell of cinnamon, a touch of apple and a nip of whisky from his lips, reminded him of his favourite dessert, and his mouth twitched. Those movies had gotten it right. If only his stomach wasn’t rumbling beneath you like a crazed animal, he might have gone in for a second helping.

He was starving. Wasting away to nothing and needing to do something about it real soon.

“What do you say I make us a big breakfast once we’ve cleaned up?” he asked. It wouldn’t be as fancy as room service, but he’d put in the extra effort for you. He knew how to whip up pancakes, bacon and eggs and would even add some fruit in it for you if it’s what you wanted. 

But who was he kidding? What he had in mind wasn’t for your benefit at all.

Still, he hoped you’d agree to it. While not heavy, your hips were pressing into his bladder, and taking a leak was fast becoming the top thing to do on his imaginary list.

“I think you mean lunch,” you mumbled.

Dean strained his neck to look at the alarm clock on his bedside. Fuck. It was close to twelve. No wonder he was feeling pangs from both organs. Normally, he’d be up and about by now. “I haven’t slept this late in a long time,” he said.

“Last I recall, you weren’t sleeping.” You chuckled and raised your head up to meet his eyes. The cool morning air rushed straight to his nipples, nipping at them, and yours, sending signals to his still deflating knot. 

Damn bunker was always cold. 

There must’ve been a few drops left of his release because he definitely felt a pulse at the root of his shaft and you quirked your brow.

“I just spent three days without you, sweetheart.” He shrugged. 

He’d missed you every second of them, too. Though, unlike the case in New Mexico, his insecurities had become more lax. 

You now had an anti-possession tattoo, and you knew how to shoot a pistol and shotgun, sort of. 

The revolver he kept under the war room table was a start. It was loaded, cocked and ready to use, which yes, he was well aware went against every piece of gun training his father and Bobby had ever taught him, but precaution was key. He needed to protect you, even when he wasn’t there to do so. 

“You just got home,” you said, finding a sudden interest in his own ink. “And you’ve been working a lot. How about you let me make something for you?” 

His fingers brushed through your hair, tucking the strands behind your ear that had fallen down. “Last I recall,” he said smugly, “you were working, too.”

“What? Reading text books. You and Sam had it all figured out.” 

You pushed away from the mattress and crawled back to sit upright. But his hands found your hips, and he stopped you from moving any further. He didn’t like your tone or the way you frowned. 

“We didn’t know we had to light it up,” he said, hoping praise was what you needed to hear. 

It was the truth, and he and Sam had been grateful. They could’ve spent longer away from home if you hadn’t found the solution. The damn thing, that still had no name, had similarities with vamps, but it still wouldn’t stay put, even after a machete to the neck and the rounds of lead and silver they blasted into its torso.

But you scoffed. “How often do you guys burn things?” 

Without hesitation, he opened his mouth to speak. Only you had him stumped. His brain had no words to counter with. 

They burned shit all the time, vengeful spirit or not. If they were ever in need of disposing of a body real quick, it was digging a hole and lighting her up, or finding a wood chipper. And it wasn’t like he had one floating around in Baby’s trunk. 

That answer wouldn’t help him or you, though, and there was more to this than you being upset about the method they’d used to get the job done.

He saw the pout, the subtle nod that you’d made your point, and the way your fingers continued to trace the lines of the pentagram on his chest. Any idiot could tell that something was wrong. He just needed to know what. 

You were his mate after all, with or without his claim, and his current bodily function issues aside, it was his duty to look out for your welfare, both emotional and physical. Yet, he was hesitant to open up whatever rabbit hole he was about to. 

Luckily, his inner Sammy was having a conniption. ‘Talk to her,’ it said. ‘Don’t jump to conclusions like you always do.’ 

And for once, rather than saying something stupid, he listened. “Is everything okay?” 

“I just—” You bit your lip. 

His stomach had decided it was the perfect time to gurgle in protest. 

“You know what, nevermind.” You patted him gently. “We should clean up. You haven’t eaten yet.” And you swung your leg off of him and moved to the edge of the bed.

Fuck. Guilt crept in on him. Something was bothering you, but things were getting desperate for his stomach and his plumbing, and the last thing he wanted to do was wet the bed, so ultimately, his own predicament won out. 

He sat up, wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you down onto your back, catching you by surprise. Your squeal of delight telling him distraction was key.

Dean captured your lips with his, placing all of his feelings into it to soothe whatever was troubling you. Promising himself that he would work on fixing things as soon as the horde rumbling in his insides had ebbed. 

Sam had been busy himself that morning.

So far, he’d searched the web for anything resembling a case, and found nothing. He’d also gone for a run, taken a shower, and was finishing up in the bathroom when he received the text.

Where are you? It read.

He didn’t think much of the message. Why would he? 

It wasn’t unusual for Dean to use his phone rather than look for him. The bunker was large, after all. Three levels, multiple halls and passageways, and those were just the areas they’d discovered. Who knew how expansive a place could be when it had a giant telescope and a shooting range amongst other rooms?

While he found some interest in that stuff, Sam still prioritised cataloguing the library. Something he hoped to get you on board with, because Dean never helped him, and you had some experience with your former job.

He sighed as he picked up his phone to type out his response - My room. At least he would be when his brother arrived at his bedroom door. It wasn’t far away and Dean liked to go slow on rest days. Especially now with you around.

Unfortunately for Sam, however, he had misunderstood Dean’s intentions, and dawdling by account was the last thing he should’ve done. 

He took his time, putting his boots on, getting the socks into position so that the seams didn’t annoy his toes in the corners. He threw his dirty clothes in the hamper, making sure each piece was turned the right way out and separated. Finally, he returned his damp towel to the metal rung he kept it on, folding it just so that the edges lined up, and stepped out into the corridor with a wave of steam close behind him. 

Swivelling on his feet, he strolled back towards his room, continuing with his leisurely pace. 

He had not a care in the world.

That was until he rounded the curve and found himself in front of his brother, carrying you over his shoulder, and he did a double take.

“Sammy?” 

“Dude! What the hell.”

Unlike Dean, you had some shame and scrambled to make sure the sheet you’d been wrapped in covered your body, though you had done a fair job of that before Sam had run into you both, and he appreciated it.

He liked you. You seemed kind and sweet. Too good for Dean if he was honest, but he respected the soulmate thing and knew that for whatever reason, even if it was unknown, you already had a profound bond.

With Dean, however, he’d rather not have shared as much as what he was seeing. It was bad enough he’d heard things the past two weeks since returning from New Mexico, but this? “Please tell me you’re wearing something.” He sighed.

“Why’d you think I sent that message for?” Dean grinned, and Sam shook his head. 

“Because you were looking for me?”

“No.” His voice was higher than usual. “I wanted to know where you were. There’s a difference.”

Fucking hell. He may have been awake for a good six hours now, but it was still far too early for semantics, especially with Dean. “Well, here I am,” Sam said, his arms and chest jerking forward in frustration. 

“This ain’t your room.”

Sam stared at his brother in disbelief. Why did he bother? It was days like these he wished he’d stayed at Stanford. Or left Dean alone to succumb to that djinn in Illinois. Either way, he would’ve saved himself some crap. “I was headed there!”

“Well, keep heading there. I gotta take a leak,” Dean said as he sped past. Your hands reached down, doing their best to cover the parts of him Sam didn’t want to see. 

“Sorry,” you mouthed, and he shook his head in return.

He knew he liked you. He just wasn’t sure how he was going to handle his brother with you around. Especially if what he’d just witnessed was about to become a regular occurrence.

Dean jiggled, flushed and flipped the lid. He was a courteous guy. And just maybe, had learnt his lesson a long time ago while living at Lisa’s. 

You were already in the shower waiting for him when he padded across the tiled floor to wash his hands.

You’d been quiet ever since he’d mentioned their recent case in Iowa. Quieter still when he’d made a joke about Sammy, having the personality of the Mountain despite being younger after he’d lied about where he was, and Dean was growing concerned. You normally laughed along with him about this stuff, and sure, it had been only four weeks of knowing you, but this was different to how you usually were around him.

Were you really upset that they’d ganked the last d-bag by lighting ‘em up in flames? Had you wanted to help more on the case? Did you want to, Chuck forbid, hunt with them?

Over his dead body. 

There was no way you’d ever take up that life. The guns and tattoo were only there as a precaution, nothing more, so he hoped there was another explanation.

But what else?

Your heat was due soon. 

Maybe this change in mood was a sign it was starting? 

‘You ain’t asking that,' he chuckled silently to himself. He didn’t have a death wish. Though he was screwed if this was going to become daily life for him.

He pushed those thoughts to the side. He was being a douchebag just thinking of them, and that wasn’t him. 

That belonged with man-bun Sammy and the version of him that wore dress shirts without a suit and tie. The guy was one good looking fella, he’d give him that, but Dean didn’t need a fancy-ass shirt to pull off the same amount of charm with you, or anyone else. He was like Swayze. Better with age.

He glanced over the reflection of his torso in the mirror, catching your silhouette behind the glass screen sitting just above his shoulder.

The room was quiet besides the shower and splashing noises made as you washed. There was no sound of tears or smell of them, and he took that as a good sign. Great, when you smiled warmly at him as he entered the cubicle with you.

“Better?” You squinted through the stream.

“I am now,” he said as he stepped closer to steal the warm water from you, earning himself a wet slap and you a cheeky grin.

His hardened chest pressed against your soft one, leaving barely any room for the spray to flow. 

There was something sexy about slippery skin. There was something sexy about your skin. Who was he kidding?

Still feeling playful, Dean’s hand moved to perch on your hip. He leaned in as if he were about to plant a kiss on your lips, but swooped behind you last second, reaching for his body wash on the inbuilt shelf. 

That earned him a firmer smack. One he revelled in. Violence was never the answer. He’d made that clear when he screwed with Dick. It told him his shenanigans were working, though. 

That, and you hit like a girl.

He caught your arm and poured a generous amount of soap into your palm, proceeding to use your hand to wash himself. 

“I need to teach you how to throw a punch,” he said as he draped your fingers around his neck first, then down over both shoulders and pectorals. All guided by him, and his even bigger grin.

“Why? I’m not a hunter.” You scoffed.

You weren’t interested in being one, either, by the sounds of it, thank fuck. 

Your hand pulled against his movements. “You thought I wanted to be?”

How did you do that? “I was worried you might.”

“What made you think that?” 

Now that he was being asked, he didn’t have the answer. “I, ah… I dunno. Something’s bothering you ‘bout the last hunt.”

You took a step back and hit the wall with a soft slap, looking at him as if he’d just told you werewolves weren’t real, even though you very much knew they were. He’d ganked one in between the witches and their most recent case. 

“So you thought I wanted to join you? It…” You shook your head. “I thought you were hungry?” 

You would be wrong. He had lost his stomach minutes ago and now had Famine banging around in there instead. But he didn’t tell you that. You’d think he was crazier than you already did if he started bringing up the apocalypse. That was a discussion for another time when he brought up their not so straightforward relationships with God and the King of Hell.

“I am.” He laced his fingers between yours and pulled you back to the centre of the shower, watching as the spray hit your shoulders. “But it can wait. There’s something you’re not telling me here, and I need you to tell me.”

Your head lowered, drawing him down, too. 

Bad move. The water now ran over your breasts to your pert nipples, the curves creating tiny waterfalls that captivated his attention with the way droplets pooled at the edges. He had to swallow hard.

“I want to make you breakfast,” you said.

Uh… The statement would’ve made him revert back to eye level, but when you bounced on the heels of your feet, it didn’t help his resolve. The words, though. What? “You wanna cook?” You cooked all the time.

“No.” You shot back up. “Well, yeah. That came out wrong… I want to…help more…around the bunker. You know, earn my keep.”

Earn your keep.

Do more?

“You do plenty around here.” You’d been cooking for them almost every meal since you’d moved in. Organised the kitchen and kept on top of the use by dates in the fridge. He hadn’t drunk off-milk or been in the laundry room in over a month. Maybe even two for the latter. But he wasn’t about to admit that.

“No, I don’t.” You shook your head. “Not enough. I know hunting doesn’t exactly pay the bills, but you and Sam go out there and save people, and here I am, making the occasional meal for you guys when you get home.”

Your hand came up to his stomach and smoothed over the creases that highlighted where his muscles lay beneath. “I wanna help more,” you said. “Dick took all my—” 

Dean smirked at your usage of your ex’s nickname. That was his ‘endearment,’ not yours. 

“Don’t do that.” You swatted him.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking about it. I felt you smile.”

You did? Well, that was new. But he didn’t question you. He had no heart to. Your mind was on a one-way ticket to that spark he knew. 

“…Ritchie took everything I have, and now I don’t have a job to help pay my way.” You reached for the soap and squeezed out another dollop onto your palm and started running it over his body once more. “I can’t even help you with your cases. I just…don’t want you to think I’m mooching off of you guys.”

So that’s what was wrong.

Dean had forgotten all about that dickbag bleeding you dry. Too happy and lost in the life he’d been building with you to realise that your baggage was still weighing you down.

“It ain’t mooching if there’s nothing to mooch, sweetheart,” he said, pulling you back against his chest and wrapping an arm around your waist while his hand came up to cradle your head. 

“But I’m used to working. Contributing. And I’m going stir crazy not doing that.”

Dean sighed. There was that guilt again, only now he had cause for it. He and Sam always had each other, but they were leaving you here for days at a time, with no transport, no respite, no purpose, while only his phone calls kept you company. 

It’s no wonder you were struggling.

This place must’ve felt like a prison to you, compared to the life you’d had, even with that abusive fucktard. It was still cold in the warmer months. Creepy, as you’d complained about when they were in New Mexico, and you had no nest here, or space to call your own so you could make one. 

Dean could relate to all of that if he was honest, minus the nesting thing. There’d been times in his life when he felt frustrated because he couldn’t do jack. A broken leg. Heart problems because of some crazy-ass ghost. Sammy in hell. Okay, that was a little out of the present perspective… All in all, though, he didn’t know what to do to help you.

That was until you said, “How about you let me make you breakfast?” with a smile, and while he was perplexed once again by how the fuck you’d done that, he kissed you on your forehead, and smiled against your skin in return.

“We’ll do it together,” he whispered. And then grabbed your hand and moved it to wash his ass cheek.

Dean fumbled through the contents of the fridge. His fingers and ears were now at risk of frostbite on account of how long he’d been searching in there for. "Where’d you say it was?” 

“Top shelf,” you said over the sizzling of bacon in the pan. 

He’d looked there already and there was no fucking butter. 

He raised his head and pushed past the milk, juice and whatever the hell vegetable Sam had blended into liquid this time. If smoothies weren’t meant to be green, they probably weren’t meant to be brown either. 

Yes, it could’ve been melted chocolate…

But it wasn’t. 

Cocoa, or anything else associated with its candy form, did not smell like the contents of his stomach after cheap whiskey. Nor did it have lumps. Or take on that specific colour.

Gross.

And no closer to finding the damn butter.

He shut the fridge with a sigh louder than the metal doors creaking and went to the pantry. Oil would have to do. Surely they had some of that lying round the bunker. The kind he used for Baby’s engine was a no go, obviously, but he wouldn’t say no to blessed pancakes if he got desperate enough to take the holy stuff from her trunk. 

“What’re you doing?” you asked as he scoured the open shelving.

“Wasn’t any.” There was, however, canola or olive oil, and he picked them up and turned around to show them to you. “Which—”

Your hands were already on your hips. 

You scrunched your nose and channelled your inner Samantha before spinning on your heels, searching for the ingredient yourself.

It was no surprise you found it straight away, but in his defence, Dean hadn’t expected it to be in the container Jody had ‘leant’ them a few months ago. The last time he’d seen the thing, there was gravy inside that was definitely gravy and not something he questioned as chocolate.

“Where’d you find that?”

“In the fridge. Top shelf.” You deadpanned.

“Smart ass.” He grinned, but pulled you close anyway when he stepped up next to you. “I didn’t know you’d put it in that.” 

His chin dipped down to your shoulder and nuzzled his initials hidden beneath the fabric. The hiss you made between your teeth brought a smirk to his lips and a familiar pang to his own body. 

“It keeps better. Though I had to clean it out first. I dunno what was in there, but it wasn’t edible.”

He moved to your mating gland and chuckled into your skin, peppering kisses over the sensitive flesh. “And you thought you weren’t helping ‘round here.”

“Cleaning out Tupperware with a living ecosystem growing inside of it does not make up for a nine to five,” you stated.

Though he heard you, his mind focused on the change in your pulse that had taken on a life of its own. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it was pulling his into a similar rhythm.

Your skin was hot to touch, warming the surrounding air, and everything started to make sense. “How much longer till your heat, ‘mega?” (And here he swore he wouldn’t be a douchebag.)

Your “Hmm?” was distant, and he grazed his front teeth over your neck, drawing away to find lust filled eyes turning to meet him. 

“Do I need to stop takin’ the suppressants?” His brows wagged, hopeful and just as driven as you had been lost in his attentions. 

“It might be a good idea,” you said, patting his cheek. “Probably best to think about your poor brother too…shit.” Your focus returned to the bacon that was fast becoming a little too crispy even for him. When it spat back at you, you flinched. “Well, excuse me for not letting you burn,” you directed to the pan.

He rubbed a placating hand over your rear, then got to work whipping up a batch of pancakes. It was now past noon and while he may have been hungry before, he was close to eating the raw ingredients he churned the spoon through.

‘Sammy?’ his mind repeated. He’d rather not. But Dean recognised you had a point after this morning.

If things were reversed, there’s no way he’d be sticking around during your first heat. It was surprising Sam hadn’t lost his cool with him earlier, and he wondered if he should send his brother on a fake milk run. All he needed to do was find a suspicious enough murder a few states over. Maybe get Donna or Jody involved and… 

Dean looked down at the butter in the container. Another wider grin spread across his face.

“What?” you asked. Not moving an inch.

“How many days do you think we got?”

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Ahhhhh - any guesses what's happening next?

I started to gain a rather large interest in the concept of nesting as I worked through this story, and the first little signs of it are coming up next chapter (it's in the preview below). As someone who's made a career in retail, it was only natural that my sales brain came up with stores having nesting departments, and it will feature again if you catch my drift.

I won't give too much away, but I'm on the edge of my own seat waiting to give you guys the next chapter to the point I’m considering uploading it earlier! Are you guys ready for him to claim her?

Until then ❤️

Chapter 7: Honeydayimg 04/04

“Are you sure we need all this stuff?” he asked as you passed another couple with only half the things you had.

“This coming from the guy who had two slices of pie on top of his burger at lunch?” 

Point taken, he supposed, but you’d eaten just as much. You’d had more than him, come to think of it. Lunch, breakfast, the night before. So when you patted his stomach, and he looked down at you grinning at him, he couldn’t help but return a knowing smile.

“You’ll thank me later,” you said.

He knew he would. In more ways than one. 

Still on your way to the front, you passed the nesting department located opposite the cash registers. Of course, it was just another convenient ploy to gain some extra impulse buys from naïve omegas who hadn’t realised they needed that new blanket or another stuffy until they saw the giant pile of fluff.

To Dean’s distaste, you were also won over by the gimmick and he was pulled along for the ride. 

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@hobby27 @aylacavebear

If you'd like to be tagged in this series or any of my other works, please let me know, or you can add yourself HERE

[plasticflowersinahistorycemetery]

me bawling at work because i love my smin. I LOOOOVVVVVVVEEEEEEE YOU!! you're my darling girl, forever my favorite person <33

literally my human and ilysm <33

[soldiersgirl]

well, because i'm bored (and i would want someone to yap at me), what's your favorite position (?) to write? for some reason, i find myself putting oral in almost every fic i write, for example.

sorry if this is weird lol

NOT WEIRD AT ALL AND IT GOT ME THINKING

i think i like unconsciously include some sort of oral too and usually missionary and for some reason a lot of straddling and girl on top??? never thought it about until now, i love u for asking me that

[bettystonewell]

Oh god! Please let that be Dean!

That’s a mighty cruel cliffhanger there Zoe - dammit. And it’s sooooo good! The perfect damn spot!

“I swear, I’ve never seen two people be so stupid.” Sam continued, scrolling through whatever lore website he had found.

You know, I’ve read a lot of idiots in love, and I gotta say, these two are kind of up there, top tier lol. They’re equally matched in stubbornness, I was really hoping Dean would say something more than just giving her the gun…

I can’t wait to see what happens next!

woman of letters pt. 13 // dean winchester

summary: sam and dean discover the bunker of the men of letters. expecting it to be empty, they get quite the shock when they meet you.

content: angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of trauma and ptsd

word count: 2k

read on wattpad here. read on ao3 here. if you would like to be added to the taglist, let me know!

note: this is a kind of short one, but i swear we're gonna pick back up next part.

taglist: @bettystonewell @kaz-2y5-spn @never-here1992 @thestoriesfold @mostlymarvelgirl @dyhsversion @deans-baby-momma @bitchykittenconnoisseur @ladykitana90 @globetrotter28

masterlist series masterlist previous part

----

There wasn’t much lately that could make you smile. Not when you had been avoiding Dean like he was a poison. You didn’t want to relive the words you had spat at him in anger. To your surprise, he hadn’t left the bunker after them. You wouldn’t have blamed him. You would have left.

Instead, Dean had made his best work of ignoring you. He would peek past doorways -- you had caught him once or twice -- to check if you were in the room. He would sleep when he knew you were awake. The rattling of bowls in the night sent pangs of loneliness to you.

You missed him.

It wasn’t just the fact that you hadn’t orgasmed in over a week and a half. It was more of missing his soft touch. You wanted his eyes to gaze over you, to drink you in like you were the only thing he lived for. His lips brushing against your skin after the sex, touching you because he couldn’t stay away.

You wanted him.

You wanted all of him.

But you weren’t going to go back to him.

It was too much, too soon. You didn’t want to push over the edge of anger again. You two hurt each other too much. It could never work again.

Even now, you knew, watching him wipe a towel over the Impala with a care you remembered him using on you.

You had stumbled upon him in the garage, meaning to grab your car to make a run to the post office. You couldn’t help but stare at him from the doorway. Your eyes drifted to the hood of the car, a flash of your first, and last, date.

You hadn’t noticed him looking at you until the silence became unbearable.

You locked onto his eyes, fingers twitching to reach out to him.

You couldn’t read him. It was as if when he had shut you out, he had closed off every door you had to see into him. His face was blank as he surveyed you.

Dean had decided he was done. He couldn’t hear how he had ruined your life over and over again. The only thing holding him together, keeping him from running again, was the constant validation that you were okay -- physically, at least.

What you didn’t notice were the glances to you. You in the kitchen for a late-night glass of water. You walking from the garage to your study. You, asleep, in the library, with a book as your pillow.

He saw it all.

He had even begun to peek into your room at night, or more of in the early hours of the morning. It was the time when he knew you would be asleep, when he could look over you without you knowing it. He hadn’t dared to take a step inside.

He was scared he wouldn’t leave if he did.

All those glances hadn’t prepared him for this moment.

Dean tried to read you, tried to get a sense of what exactly you were here for, but the moment you noticed, you mentally shut him out. He watched the hard indifference cross your face.

God, you were like a fucking robot. He hated it, but at the same time, loved that you had the ability to do something like that. He was always scared his emotions would show and give something away.

Little did he know that was exactly what he was doing now.

He was shutting you out.

You swallowed down a question. It would have been stupid, just small talk about his car, and it was only going to be used to alleviate some of the guilt you felt.

Instead, you squeezed your eyes shut and swiftly stepped over to your own car.

Dean snapped his head down when you walked past, rubbing at a nonexistent spot on the body of the Impala. You settled into your driver’s seat, flinching when you caught a glimpse of him standing only a few inches from you.

He held out a gun, handle facing you. He wasn’t looking into your eyes now. You frowned and didn’t move.

You didn’t know how to shoot. You knew that, Dean knew that. So why was he trying to give you a gun? It’s not like it had done much the last time you tried to use one.

“Please.”

If you hadn’t been awake for the past three hours, you would have thought you hallucinated the word. Dean’s voice shook through your body, despite the soft, breathy tone of it. It settled right in your gut, right where you kept your fear and guilt.

With a slight shake, you reached out and wrapped your fingers around the handle. Your skin brushed against his, and, for just a small moment, you two stayed like that. Touching, barely, but still touching.

Then Dean pulled away, clearing his throat to cut through the tension. It didn’t do much. The thing that snapped you out of your trance of him was his exit from the garage, boots thumping on the floor as he left.

You sighed and tucked the gun into the glove box, wishing he had offered himself up instead of the weapon.

----

“You two are ridiculous.” Sam bit out when Dean wandered to the kitchen.

Sam was sat at the table, laptop in front of him, a bowl of cereal off to the side. Dean chose to ignore the fact that it was your favorite cereal, a kind that he had found himself gravitating to when he had taken his self-sufficient vacation.

He also ignored his younger brother’s words. Dean reached into a cupboard, swiping up a mug for coffee. He was exhausted. He spent his days trying -- and failing -- to sleep, and the nights were used to watch over you. It was beginning to be too much, but there didn’t seem to be any other option.

Well, there was another option: talk to you and get you back into his arms. But this was what you wanted. You had wanted to never be loved by him again, something made obvious to him when you blamed him for ruining your life.

“I swear, I’ve never seen two people be so stupid.” Sam continued, scrolling through whatever lore website he had found.

“Just drop it, Sammy.” Dean grumbled, letting the coffee burn his throat as he drank it.

“No.” Sam looked up from his laptop, shaking his head at Dean. “It’s beginning to affect me. You need to fix it.”

“Why is it always me who has to fix things? Huh?” Dean set his mug on the counter by the sink, the liquid swishing up to the sides, almost spilling over. “Why can’t she fix it?”

“You’re a child.” Sam rolled his eyes. “You left her.” He chose to leave himself out of that. Yes, he had been left behind by Dean too, but this was about you two pretending you had the luxury of “normal people” love lives. Being the people you were, having the lives you lived, there was no time for the “will we, won’t we”.

Not that the fact had ever stopped either him or Dean from doing the “will we, won’t we”, but in this situation that he wasn’t apart of, Sam had deemed himself above such ways.

“Yeah, and I came back, didn’t I? I deserve some credit for that.”

“We had to find you and practically drag you back here.”

“You didn’t drag me.” Dean scoffed, flexing his jaw. He wanted to tell Sam what you had said, the real reason why he was avoiding you now. He wanted to so bad, but it didn’t seem right. He figured it would just make things worse if other people knew how badly he had allegedly treated you.

“Just apologize, say you’re sorry.” Sam shrugged off, shaking his head again. He knew that you two had been together at some point, or many points, since Dean had returned. He had, unfortunately for him, heard the results of Dean’s “magic”. He had thought, great, at least you two would go back to being tooth-rottingly in love. What he got instead were two fully-grown adults acting like they were just having one-night stands every night.

“Don’t you think I tried that?” Dean spat out, anger rising at the memory of you pushing him away even after his apologies.

“What’d she say?” Sam asked, not believing that Dean had actually said anything of the sort.

Fuck it, Dean wasn’t caring about right or wrong in this moment.

“That I ruined her life. That she hates me.” Dean took in a steadying breath. It did nothing to quench his thirst for you.

Sam could see you saying that. He’d heard it himself, the words directed to him. You’d been angry and grieving, so he mostly let it slide past, but there had been a few times he’d yelled back. It always ended up the same way: you storming past him, pushing his body out of your way while he tried not to think of how much easier it would have been if he had just gone with Dean.

Sam didn’t know what to say to it. He didn’t know if you had actually meant it when you said it to Dean, but you couldn’t have, right? There wasn’t any way that the love he had seen you direct toward his brother just dissipated like that.

“Yeah, so tell me how exactly I’m supposed to fix this, Sammy.” Dean grit out, raising his eyebrows at Sam. The taller man was still silent, looking up at him with those puppy dog eyes that used to get him whatever he wanted.

Dean scoffed and turned away, training his eyes on the brick wall above the sink.

He hated this. He hated you. Mostly, though, he just hated himself.

----

You’d been distracted the whole drive into town. Not ideal, seeing how the last time you had been distracted it led to a bomb-detonation of a horrible situation. You couldn’t stop it, the thoughts that filtered in.

You wished you could find it in yourself to apologize to Dean. It just wasn’t you. You couldn’t fake smiles and act like everything was fine when it wasn’t. It hadn’t been for a while.

Sure, Dean may look at you and still see the demon smirking back at him, but you? You could feel it in you still, like it had been covered in a goop that got left behind even after the exorcism.

You wanted to be clean, but you didn’t know the first step to cleansing yourself.

Your interactions with others went by unmemorized. Thank the gods for the physical files you were given because without them, the entire trip would have been a waste.

Now, however, you were suddenly very aware of the world around you.

You were getting a sick sense of deja vu to when Dean had, without your knowledge of it, followed you out in those first few days of knowing each other.

Only this time, you were almost one-hundred-percent positive this wasn’t Dean. Someone else was following you.

You tried to glance around, maybe looking for the person, maybe looking for anyone else to help. You came up empty. There wasn’t a soul around. But you still felt the presence near you.

You quickened your pace, trying to quiet your racing heart.

Despite everything that had happened, you still felt like that inexperienced woman Sam and Dean had found in the bunker all those months ago.

You had almost reached your car, your fingers just barely grazing against the door handle when someone, the someone who had been following you, placed their hand on your arm.

Just like the first time, you swung.

[pieandflannel]

౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ his mission

pairing: sam winchester x fem!reader

summary: you share an intense intimate moment with your boyfriend

cw: 18+ smut.ᐟ missionary.ᐟ unprotected pnv [for the love of god wrap it up].ᐟ creampie.ᐟ pre-established relationship [dating].ᐟ cuss words.ᐟ breeding kink if you squint.

word count: 373

────────── 💦 ──────────

sam absolutely loves fucking you in missionary. the way you claw and scratch at his back with each snap of his hips, your face contorting in pure bliss as his tip continuously kisses your cervix, the way you look at him with the most lustful puppy eyes.

the moans that constantly slip those pretty lips of yours, god, he loves it.

the way your shaky legs try to wrap around his waist to pull him even closer, deeper inside of you, as if that was even possible since he already was balls deep inside you, filling you up to the brim.

and as soon as you get drunk on his cock? when you can’t seem to form a single proper word, let alone a sentence? it’s honestly the most adorably pathetic view he has ever witnessed, he fucking loves it, he’s so addicted to turning you into a hot mess.

watching your eyes roll to the back of your skull as he hits that sweet spot over and over and over again, earning incoherent mumbles as you try to tell him how good he is making you feel, trying to beg him not to stop and whining about how close you are.

but no words need to be spoken for him to know he is doing a damn good job because the sight of his woman falling apart beneath him is more than enough to feed his ego. he just can’t get enough of watching you struggle to kiss him back as he fucks your brains out.

and when he finally spills his seed inside of you, his thick ropes of white covering your warm gummy walls? he lets out a choked up groan against your skin, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he places gentle worshipping kisses, his hips rolling slower but not stopping until he’s pumped dry, as if it was his mission, his purpose in life to give you all his seed.

then after the two of you catch your breaths, he slowly pulls out, watching his cum drip out of your used hole. he can’t help but smirk, a primal instinct kicking in as he enjoys the view of his woman being marked by him.

thank you so much for reading! feedback and reblogs are always deeply appreciated <3

🏷️ : @soldiersgirl @jensenacklesballsack @littlejoels @littlelamy @deanswifeyy @slut4jackles @h8aaz @angelicjackles @losers-clvb @lyarr24 @cowboysandcigarettes @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @acklesarchives @deanspookiebear @tinas111 @bejeweledinterludes @miss-marmalade @pinksatinpanties @multiversefanfics @sunnyteume @mrsanakinwinchesterpoldark @that-stanford-girlie @pwin098 @honeyyxxbee @rerejunebug @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @lunaleah

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© pieandflannel – do not plagiarise or repost any of my work!

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© diver by @cafekitsune <3

[emeraldcrs]

can i lick it off?😋

tags: @soldiersgirl @bruisedfig @briiverse @bejeweledinterludes @littlesoulshine @soldierboysdoll @cowboysandcigarettes @sugardean @angelblqde @sunsbaby @khloberry @hischrrypie @pieandflannel @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @fuckedupfate @rositaslabyrinth @mahi-wayy @jollyhunter @h8aaz @daylighted @lunarvera @xoxomilesteller @bobabilbil @01maddie @prettygirlfromparadisecity @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @pinksatinpanties @losers-clvb

[deansbeer]

the revival of ╱ 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬. [ masterlist ]

♡ ⋮ this content isn’t suitable for minors.

୨ৎ ⎯⎯ set in the mid 9Os, late 9Os, early OOs.

𓆙 🏇 . ♡ ⋆ ❝ you may have a cowboy hat, spurs, chaps, and a horse but you’re not a cowboy ‘til you can ride like one. ❞ — unknown.

pairing 𓏵 cowboy!jensen x female reader.

synopsis 𓏵 when a storm brings jensen to your family’s ranch, your lives unexpectedly intertwine. between all the ranch work, holiday traditions, and quiet moments under the texas sky, a connection begins to bloom—one that could change everything.

potential warnings 𓏵 fluff | slight angst | budding romance | mutual pining l awkward sweet tension I unrequited romance (not with reader) | small town gossip | family dynamics | mild language | jealousy | smut | ranchhand!jensen.

. . . 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 ★

݁ ᰈ ꯭ ֗ ⠀ ༝ 🫙 𝐣𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 .ᐟ

OOO. PROLOGUE (original)

OO1. APRIL WILDFLOWERS (original) coming soon.

݂ ᨳ ֔ ۪ ⁰. 𓎢𓎟𓎡⁰ ㅤ ˚ ༝　 taglist. @bruisedfig @titsout4jackles @deanswidow @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @tinas111 @bluemerakis @ultravi0lence14 @thesevnthseal @beausling @fuckedupfate @honeyryewhiskey @honeyyxxbee @faiszt @acklesangel @angellust333 @losers-clvb @crystalcider @clarksfavoritegirl @jensenacklesballsack

sticky notes 𓏵 this series is a prequel to my cozy baking jackles bot on cai, but can be read separately! comment 🐮 or send in an ask if you wanna be added to the taglist <3

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐑 © 2O25. do not plagiarize or repost anywhere.