#sam winchester bday challenge

[manawhaat]

Sword of Glass

Title: Sword of Glass

Characters: Geralt x Reader, Roach. 

Prompt: Size Difference square fill for @thewitcherbingo​ and quote #2/title prompt#5 for @princessmisery666​ triple celebration challenge.  

Warnings: Canon violence, sword fighting/training, embarrassment, size difference, implied smut.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Thank you @dancingdin and @sebbytrash for looking this over for me. This is my first Witcher fic and I chose to combine my bingo square with Stacey’s challenge. I’ve added a moodboard below, and Stacey was kind enough to make the title card above :)  Thanks for reading!

“I’m not a teacher,” he says, back turning as you chase after him on unstable legs.

“Please! That wasn’t the first monster I’ve come across and no one else can prepare me the way you might.”

Flashbacks of the witch you’d encountered as a child send a shiver up your spine, and the stench of the dead werewolf slain in the wood behind you only adds to your desperation.  

“I can pay you,” you plea. “Five-hundred gold…��� The tall, imposing Witcher stops in his tracks and you rush out. “I have lodging and food, for you and your horse. However long it takes, you’ll both be cared for. In whatever way you need,” you add for good measure. The thought of prostitution has always filled your mouth with bile, and you shudder against the rising of it in your throat as the words hang in the frozen air.

Golden eyes meet yours and silence ensues, snow falling and disappearing into his white hair. “Are you sure you’re ready for it?” The gruffness in his voice and his towering advance into your personal space almost make you second guess your decision and your offer. Cold dread steals your voice and torments you with memories passed. No matter what this Witcher may put you through, you refuse to be weak any longer. You can’t be. You won’t survive if chaos should strike your life again.

Standing straight, you steady your voice. “I am.”

A month later the snowy air creates a cloud around the heat of the word ‘fuck’ as you grumble it out, deep and with feeling. Golden eyes pin you, push you down further into the icy ground at your back. Beneath his thick hands, your body shakes and every ragged breath has the steel sword against your throat threatening to break skin.

“You keep saying you want to change things, but you keep repeating old behavior. You can’t have it both ways. There’s no way to fight for your future while still living in the past.”

It’s the most he’s ever said to you at once and something about the tone of sincerity tells you it’s a lesson he had to learn, once, too. His voice carries such depth, and there’s something in his eyes and on his face as he hovers above you that makes you wonder if witchers do feel, after all.

Your body is relieved of his weight and his hand stretches out to help you to stand. Sword easily swinging in his grip, you let out a huff and prepare yourself for the next spar.

“Learn from your mistakes, Y/n,” he warns, getting into position before rushing you.

When your day of training comes to an end, your supper stew simmers over the fire and you’re given just enough time to slip out to the cozy barn and care for your other guest. She neighs in delight at the grain and apples you have for her feed, and before you know it your voice is spilling into the barn.

“Is he always so quiet?”

Roach snorts and shifts on her feet as you brush her coat. She’s a sweet horse and she seems happy and comfortable in the barn. Thinking back on your deal, you’re pretty sure this was the draw that made Geralt agree to train you. The promise of money, food, shelter, and ‘anything else’ were good offers. At first, you’d worried about him. A man starved of human contact, of a woman’s touch. He’d surprised you with his distance and over time, your offer of a safe, comfortable place for Roach seemed more and more like the one thing he couldn’t pass up.

“It must be a lonely life for the two of you… always on the road.” You smile and Roach almost nods. “I bet he talks to you, doesn’t he? Tells you all of those secrets he keeps.”

“She’s a good listener.”

The timbre startles you, but you relax at the casual posture Geralt displays, strong body leaned up against the stable doorway.

“She’s not the only one,” you offer, quietly celebrating the victory when your statement draws a smile to his lips.

“Perhaps another time. I’ve seen deer in the wood nearby. Supper’s nearly ready, but we could use the meat for the coming days.”

You nod in agreement and like that, he’s gone, leaving you to fight back the rogue flutter of hope that’s filled your empty belly.

It’s well into night when Geralt returns to your door, hands and clothes dotted with blood and dirt.

“Here,” you say when you notice him lingering in the doorway, “I’ve drawn you a bath. I figured you’d need it after the last week of training… and the deer.”

He tips a thankful smile in your direction, carefully removing his boots and shirt before following you behind the thin cloth you’ve set up to give him the privacy he needs to bathe.

While he bathes you tend to the deer and cook a portion of it, saving the rest for the coming week, and upon re-entering the cottage, a low hum meets your ears. A smile curls your lips at the thought of the Witcher singing to himself while he thinks he’s alone, and you keep yourself from joining the tune so you can hear him for just a little longer. 

Catching a glimpse of him through the two sheets that make up the curtain, Geralt is relaxed in the warm water. His arms drape both sides of the basin and his head is tipped back with a calm smile on his mouth. He’s so large he takes up most of it just sitting down. He’s uncovered from the navel up, and you admire the scars and muscles you can see.

His song finishes and he rubs his hands through his hair to pull it back loosely before standing. Water cascades down his body back into the basin and you’re left in awe at the size of him on display. It’s hard to stop your wandering eyes as you take him in, and a gasp betrays you when your gaze lingers between his legs.  

Golden eyes lock with yours through the gap in the cloth and your face fills with heat. He doesn’t say anything, simply hums as he gently pulls a linen to his body and turns out of your line of sight.

Rushing outside, the cool air does nothing to quell the burn that’s filled your blood and you can’t get his image out of your eyes, not even when they’re scrunched shut tight.

“Have you eaten?”

His voice makes you leap in surprise and fumble over your words as he stands in the doorway, now fully clothed.

“Ha-have I? N-no. I haven’t eaten,” you splutter out. Eyes darting to the ground, you say meekly, “I thought it rude to start without you.”

He smirks at that, but tames the expression before you can see it. “Let’s eat.”

Geralt follows you inside and as you hand him a bowl of stew, the small brush of his hands against yours sends a jolt through you. He wears thanks in his eyes, and you avert your gaze for the rest of the evening. Only when you’re sure he’s not looking do you dare to observe him once more. Truly observe him. The size of his hands around the bowl, the heft of his arms and the width of his shoulders strained against the shirt they’re wrapped in.

That night sleep evades you. Every time your eyes close you’re met with Geralt standing in the washing basin, bare as a babe but larger than any man you’ve ever seen. When sleep does come dreams fill your mind and it’s him you see, every part of him pressed to you, firm and unyielding.

----------

A fortnight later Geralt wakes earlier than normal. His weary eyes search for your sleeping form as they always do, but your bed at the other end of the cottage is empty. He stands slowly and when he steps outside, he finds you practicing at the edge of the nearby wood.

You move on your feet, dance and turn, sparring a sturdy tree that’s helpless to your blade. Geralt admires you, your tenacity and dedication, and the smallness of your frame. Nearly everyone he meets is smaller than he is, but the way his sword fits in your hand only accents your size even more.

Turning away from the tree, you slash and thrust your sword out, but the metal is not met with air as you’d expected it would be. Geralt is on the other end, his silver sword blocking your practiced blow. Heart leaping into your throat, he doesn’t give you time to collect yourself. Mighty fists wield silver against you and you’re forced to block the blow or take the damage.

The two of you dance in the sunrise snow, metal clanging and harsh breaths and grunts exchanged. Everything Geralt has taught you leads you to victory, but when you finally have him drawn he reaches out and turns the fight to bare hands. Your sword skids through the snow as you work to push him off, using your smallness against his size. You’ve grown strong over the past months, but his brute is simply too much. 

Thick arms catch you and pin you unnaturally against a tree, and it’s while he holds you there, body pressed firmly to you as you struggle, that you feel his arousal against you. At the way you gasp and press yourself back into him, he presses and grinds his hips into your lower back, huffing a shuddering breath against your ear.

“Do you yield?”

Sap sticks thickly to your temple and hairline. The bark is rough, cold, and bites into you as he twists your arm and fists your hair. His weight and the tree stifle your breath, and you bite back a groan at the scrape of his teeth against the back of your neck.

“Yield,” he commands, voice rasped with lust. The husk of it pairs with his heavy breaths, flirts with yours, and his grip on you loosens.

Geralt’s upper lip bursts open against the back of your head when you thrust it back and twist an arm free. Using the tree as leverage, you push off and fight,soon earning a proper victory.

“Do you yield, witcher?”

Geralt lays pinned beneath you, your dagger pressed to his throat. When he remains silent, a thin but promising line of blood forms on the blade and his skin.

He grins up at you, breathless and proud. “I am at your mercy, my lady,” he hums, lacing lust into his words and eyes.

His brute and size dawn on you again, and before your brain can relish the victory of overthrowing him, your body is responding to his. Mouths crashing together, the faint tang of blood seeps onto your tongue. A mess of limbs and passion leave a trail of snowy clothes from your battle ground to your bed.

----------

“I fear I’ll miss you when you’ve gone, Geralt,” you admit when the thrill of your orgasms have faded.

A hum is all he gives, but his fingers remain twined with yours over his chest. He doesn’t feel distant or cold, and after a few moments of peace you wonder aloud, “Do you think transparency can be used as a weapon?”

Geralt looks to you and mulls it over, truly ponders and weighs his answer before rumbling it out. “A sword of glass will only break. The best use for transparency,” his thumbs brush your skin and lips catch on yours, “is this.”

Noses pressed together, you ask, “And what is your glass sword?”

“Our bargain has come to a close. My work is done. You’ve learned, and I must go.”

It’s the truth you’d not wished to face just yet, but you nod solemnly with understanding in your heart.

“Then let me show you the full extent of my gratitude,” you reply, mouth capturing the end of the gentle smile curling his lips.

As he leaves with the coming dawn, body swaying gently atop his one true companion, you think of him. Think of what a large part of your life he’s played -- will continue to play when you use his lessons and training -- followed by the keen sting of knowing, deep and true, that you’ve only been a small part in his.

[pinknerdpanda]

This Means War - Part 1

Word Count: 537

Characters: Reader, Bucky, Sam, Steve, Natasha

Pairing: Reader x ??

Warnings: Shenanigans, Language, Bickering Bucky and Sam, Sexual Innuendo

Beta’d by @shy-violet-soul​ - thank you so much, love!

Summary: Sam and Bucky have been battling for Y/N’s affections since they met. How will they fare when she sets a bit of friendly competition to pick the best suitor?

A/N: Hi y’all! @princessmisery666 and I have been cooking up a little something something and we are ready to share it with you. We co-wrote this little mini series and we will be taking turns posting chapters daily until it’s finished. WE’ll be tagging our own taglists on each chapter, but if you’re not on there and you want to be tagged in future installments, send one of us an ask. 

This was written for @princessmisery666‘s Triple Celebration Challenge. Our prompts were “Everything hurts and I’m dying.” “Don’t be so dramatic.” and  “Did you just lick me?” and will be bolded when used. Also my co-creator made the bomb-ass title card. Thanks babes! This has been a blast to work on with you!

This Means War

Part 1

Maybe it was a little cruel. Maybe it was what they both deserved. Ever since Y/N had been introduced to the Avengers, Sam and Bucky had both hit on her. She’d turned them both down for various reasons that she never elaborated on, though they’d never asked. But they were nothing if not persistent and it had been quiet lately. So why not have a little fun? 

Sam had made a suggestive comment over breakfast, he had something better than coffee that could wake her up. Bucky had countered it with “and when that thirty seconds is over you could come to me for a proper wake up call.” 

Cue eye roll. 

Then they’d both purposely joined her in the gym, stood in her eyeline while they tried to out flex each other without actually starting a real workout so she decided to have a little fun.

“You two are never going to give up, are you?” She asked mopping the sweat from her forehead and neck as she approached them by the weights. 

Bucky grinned, “Nope.” 

“Hell no,” said Sam.

“Wow you two actually agreed on something?” She gasped faking shock, “Did hell just freeze over?”

They both chuckled, flashing their most endearing smiles and she couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What are you up to today, doll?” Bucky questioned.

“Well, I figured I would take advantage of the downtime around here and maybe get a few things done,” she shrugged.

Sam rushed to drop his kettlebell and stepped forward. 

“I’ll help you,” he beamed, crossing his massive arms across his chest.

Y/N opened her mouth, but an almighty crash cut her off. She glanced to see Bucky practically tackling the Falcon in an effort to get around him. Sam groaned as Bucky shoved his right elbow into the other man’s stomach.

“Or if you’d rather have a real man at your beck and call, I’d be happy to volunteer my services,” Bucky smirked, reaching backward to smack an approaching Sam.

Maybe it was a little cruel. Maybe just a little, but at some point this insanity had to stop. And you know what they say about two birds and one stone. Except Y/n didn’t have two birds. What she did have was one bird, a super soldier, a list of chores and a massive boulder of an idea.

“Actually, gentlemen. I have a proposal for you,” she smiled seductively before quirking a brow, “for both of you.”

Confusion danced across both men’s faces as they shared a look of incredulity. Bucky’s ears took on a peculiar shade of red as he looked back at Y/n, while Sam opened and closed his mouth a few times.

Bucky coughed. “B-b-both of us?” He scratched harshly at the back of his head, his eyes darting toward Sam.

Y/n grinned, holding back a giggle at their discomfort. “Yes. Both of you. I just need to take a quick shower before we discuss the...details.” 

Sam swallowed loudly as Bucky’s eyes grew wide.

“Why don’t you two meet me in my room in an hour,” she cooed, backing away from them towards the door. “Then we can get right down to business.”

Read Part 2 HERE

Like what you see? Want more? My SPN Masterlist is here, and MCU is here. Thanks for reading! :)

FYI I’ve updated my tag list, so if you don’t see your name below and want to, send me an ask. Weirdos are for everything, Heroes is MCU and Hunters is for SPN.

Weirdos: 

@hannahindie @amanda-teaches @ellen-reincarnated1967 @feelmyroarrrr @masksandtruths @princessmisery666  @jamielea81 @foxyjwls007 @becs-bunker @super100012 @shy-violet-soul @emoryhemsworth​

Heroes:

@arrowsandmixtapes​ @bethbabybaby​

[firefly-in-darkness]

The Way That It Was

Collaboration: The beautiful Bee - @negans-lucille-tblr​

Characters: Y/N & Steve Rogers, Y/N & Bucky Barnes (past)

Prompt:  “You keep saying you want to change things, but you keep repeating old behaviour. You can’t have it both ways.” - shown in bold.

Summary: Steve and Y/N are in a loving relationship but her mind keeps going back to the times she was Bucky’s. When they were a dirty little secret.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Swearing, Angst, Smangst...

A/N: This is for the amazing Stacey’s Birthday Challenge! @princessmisery666​​ where we had to collab with a prompt. It was so much fun working with Bee, and it was nice to get real smutty and angsty together!!

Firefly’s Library & Masterlist

The bed dipped behind you, the warmth of the man that curled up beside you radiated into your back, heating up your naked body. Your smile grew, your favourite soldier had returned from his mission on the other side of the globe. With a quick shuffle, you faced the gorgeous blonde, his slightly damp hair and naked torso made your breath hitch and arousal bloom.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Steve softly whispered and wrapped his arms around your waist.

You nuzzled yourself into his neck, pressing light kisses to his collarbone. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer and moulding you to his impressive physique. The sweet scent of vanilla filled your nose, clouding your mind of everything but him.

Musk. Bucky always smelled like this deep woody musk, that sort of smoky burning firewood smell. It was so rich and thick and every time you caught the scent of it on the bedsheets or in his hair it would make you close your eyes for a moment. 

Continue here...

[princessmisery666]

Triple celebration (multiple fandoms + don’t have to be a writer/artist).

I’ve just surpassed 350 followers (thank you all), I share my birthday with the wonderful Sam Winchester and @fandom-princess-forevermore (May 2nd) AND my blog will be a year old on 17th May 2020. So a triple celebration 🥂. 

I wanted to run a challenge / have some fun and I know it’s not quite February yet but for this to work, I think the more time you have the better. 

But here’s the twist...

We all know Sam is such a wonderful and caring person, who likes to help people, in honour of this I thought it would be fun to mix it up so you have to collaborate with someone else.

Co-write a fic with a fellow writer, two artists create a mood board/aesthetic together, writers ask an artist to create a mood board/aesthetic/banner/draw a pic for your fic, artists ask a writer to create a fic/drabble/one-shot based on whatever you create (you get the point.)

If you’re not a writer/artist you can still get involved! Keep reading after the prompts.  

Guidelines (cause no one likes rules):

You don’t have to join forces with someone else. I just thought it would be nice to make new/work with friends. A bit of teamwork.

Fandoms I’m interested in: Supernatural, Marvel, The Walking Dead, The Witcher, Sons Of Anarchy, Power, Chicago Fire/PD, Suits, Strike Back, Lucifer, Teen Wolf. And the actors involved.  

FYI bonus points for: Sam Winchester/Jared Padalecki, Sam Wilson/Anthony Mackie, Erik ‘Kilmonger’ Stevens/Michael B Jordan, and Geralt/Henry Cavill.

NOTE: Marvel related - I won’t read Tony Stark fics. He can be a supporting character but I won’t read anything that is centred around him. Sorry. I have a reason for this that I’m happy to discuss but it’s a bit dark and this is supposed to be fun.😉

You can choose more than one prompt, combine them, tweak them, and more than one person can choose the same prompt(s).

You don’t have to ‘use’ the prompt in your work - the story/art can be based around it

Can be fluff, smut, angst, kinks, crack, A/B/O, AU’s whatever floats your boat. Dark themes welcome.

Any and ALL trigger warnings must be highlighted. I’ll step out of my comfort zone and read anything - except Tony Stark, paedophilia, necrophilia and scat play (don’t look it up).

Any and all ships welcome.

Can be reader insert, 1st/3rd person, OC or character’s POV. Whatever you prefer. 

Can be any length you like but PLEASE use a ‘keep reading’ line for long posts or fics over 500 words.

You don’t have to be following me.

Send me an ASK with the prompt category title and number (example - Song 3.) to let me know which prompt you’d like so I can mark them off as we go. I will try to keep an eye on replies and reblogs but please send an ask if I don’t reply directly to you.

End date will be 30th April so I can post a master list on my birthday (2nd May). Feel free to post before or after though.Totally flexible

I will send you an individual reminder 1st April.

Use the tags #PM666 Bday Fun and #Sam Winchester Bday Challenge and don’t forget to tag me in your work.

Would appreciate a reblog to spread the word.

I will follow anyone who participates.

Most importantly, HAVE FUN!

As I will be 34 and Sam Winchester will be 37, I decided to meet in the middle and do 35 prompts. 5 prompts per category.

Songs (use the whole song, one line, just the title etc.):

1. In The Dark - Bring Me The Horizon - “Don’t swear to god he never asked you / It’s not his heart you drove a knife through.”

2. Frustrations - MiC Lowry - “Every night tastes the same, ain't no liquor as strong as you / But what's keeping me sane is the things that you're doing / You are sending dirty pictures in your new car / Make a brother wanna take it too far, you are, / You're gonna get it, baby / We can, we can get a ticket for the weekend / Change it up and stay until the week ends / Can't wait to take all my frustrations out on you.”

3. You Make Me Wanna - Usher - “You make me wanna leave the one I'm with / Start a new relationship with you / This is what you do / I think about a ring and all the things that come along with it.”

@clarinette07 + @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog & dialogue prompt#3

4. Ocean Drive - Duke Demont - “Don't say a word while we dance with the devil / You brought the fire to a world so cold / We're out of time on the highway to never / Hold on (hold on), hold on (hold on).”

5. Hurricane - Thirty Seconds To Mars - “No matter how many times that you told me you wanted to leave / No matter how many breaths that you took, you still couldn't breathe / No matter how many nights that you lie wide awake to the sound of the poison rain / Where did you go? Where did you go? Where did you go? / Tell me would you kill to save a life? / Tell me would you kill to prove you're right? / Crash, crash, burn let it all burn / This hurricane's chasing us all underground.

@deanwinchesterswitch + @cleighwrites & dialogue prompt#1

Quotes from Movies or TV Shows:

1. Person A: Hope is not a strategy. Person B: *laughs* You must be new. - Mission Impossible - Fallout

2. “You keep saying you want to change things, but you keep repeating old behaviour. You can’t have it both ways.” – Sons Of Anarchy

@firefly-in-darkness + @negans-lucille-tblr

@manawhaat + @samsexualdeancurious Geralt fic & mood board (& title prompt#5)

@slytherkins + @risingphoenix761

3. “I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to stay here and cause all kinds of trouble.” - The Hunger Games

4. “It's when you're acting selfishly that you are at your bravest.” - Divergent

5. “I am not in danger. I am the danger.” - Breaking Bad

@technically-a-little-dragon + @celestial-irondad (Bucky & Peter Parker brotp)

Random Things:

1. Bed shopping 2. Unwanted gift 3. Getting a tattoo/piercing. 4. Beanbag 5. Building Lego

Random Titles:

(I used this website for all except number 1)

1. Mercedes, Money and Monday’s.  2. The Burden Of Hope 3. Left For Revenge.  4. Clue Of The Absent Pendant 5. Sword Of Glass

@manawhaat + @samsexualdeancurious Geralt fic & mood board (& Quote prompt#2)

Locations:

1. Desert  2. Woods 3. Nightclub 4. Waterfall 5. Parking Lot

@firefly-in-darkness + @the-minus-four 

Dialogue Prompts

1. “How do you go out to get (insert something here) and end up getting arrested?”

@deanwinchesterswitch + @cleighwrites & song prompt#5

2. “I love you.” “I love you too, but I don’t know if it’s enough.” 3. “We’re not meant to be together, I see that now. But we are supposed to be family.”

@clarinette07 + @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog & song prompt#3

4. “Did you just lick me?”

@pinknerdpanda + me & dialogue prompt #5

5. “Everything hurts and I’m dying.” “Don’t be so dramatic.”

@pinknerdpanda + me & dialogue prompt #4

Tag Lines (from TV shows or movies):  

1. The worst monsters are the ones we create - The Witcher

@peridottea91 fanart for SPN (maybe a fic)

2. After a night they can’t remember comes a day they’ll never forget - Dude, Where’s My Car

3. Part Of The Journey Is The End - Avengers: Endgame

4. Fear Is A Luxury - Supernatural

5. Brutal. Ruthless. Deadly... And they're the good guys - Strike Back.

Come on, you know you want to play - Go on send that ASK

Non-writers/artists

From the fandoms listed in the guidelines, tell me your favourite:

Character and why.

Episode/Season and why.

Movie and why.

What do you wish the writers had done differently?

If you could “fix/change” one thing about a show/movie what would it be and why?

Or anything else you would like to get off your chest 😜

Write it in a word doc / google doc and Submit. Or write a post and tag me in it and use the tags in the guidelines.

[deanwinchesterswitch]

Collab Challenge Aesthetic

Created this for @cleighwrites​ as part of @princessmisery666​‘s Sam Winchester Birthday Challenge.

Let It All Burn by @cleighwrites​

[clarinette07]

So proud of this collaboration piece with @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog 🥰

Hope you enjoy it, too!

He’s my past, you’re my present and future.

Hey everyone! I hope everyone is doing well, considering the world right now, and that your being safe. @clarinette07 brought this challenge to my attention, and I just had to jump on it. This challenge was started by @princessmisery666 as here Triple Celebration Challenge! Having two creators work together, meshing there writing styles together, a very cool concept.

@clarinette07 and I decide on that our prompts were: the Song You Make Me Wanna by Usher and the dialogue “We’re not meant to be together, I see that now. But we are supposed to be family.”

Synopsis: reader has a thing for Dean and one night they act on their feelings, but the next day things take a turn and the reader’s world is all turn around. A year later and a whole new life, the reader is back in that same town and same motel room she was with Dean, but now she has another Winchester after her heart. What is a girl to do, follow her heart from the past or her present?

Reader X Dean, Reader X Sam. Mentions of lost, heartbreak, flirting, mentions of sex but nothing graphic. Also it is a long story, 5,000+ words but its worth it.

I do hope you like what @clarinette07 and I came up with. If you do, please like and reblog the story, and give @clarinette07 and myself a follow if your incline. But Please do not post as your own work!

Thanks!

Love~

Keep reading

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

Mine

A/N: Again, this is the birthday challenge of my lovely friend @plaid-lover-bay25. Enjoy!!

Prompt: 60. You should learn to control your temper.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Dean gets jealous when someone flirts with you in a bar.

Warnings: fighting, sexual harassment, name calling.

Word Count: 979

“you're not wearing that. Nuh-uh. Absolutely not!” Dean didn't like the way you dressed at all. Well he definitely liked it, but didn't like you wearing that in public.

“what? It's just a dress Dean” you wear wearing a short black. There's nothing wrong with that, but Dean had to overreact.

“more like a shirt. Go change, now!” he demanded.

“did you just give me an order?”  you asked.

He hesitated for a moment “no... it was more of a suggestion. A very good one”.

“I'm not changing, I have nothing else prepared and I haven't worn a dress since forever ago. Do you not trust me?”  you asked.

“It's not that. You know I trust you with my life. It's men I don't trust. Their looks, their minds, their reactions and I don't like sharing”.

“how is that sharing?”.

“they're gonna see your curves, your thighs, the dress is too tight” he explained.

“Aha. Well I can protect myself and I have you by my side. No one will dare say anything. Let's go, we're gonna be late. Sam's already texted me” you linked your arm in his and dragged him out.

- - -

“Hiya Sammy” you hugged him.

“Y/n, long time no see. Pretty dress” he complimented.

“Thanks” you looked at Dean.

“Don't encourage her”.

“Did have an argument about the dress?” Sam asked you.

“too obvious, huh?” you gave him a smile.

“it's all over his face”.

“I'll let you two catch up. I'm gonna go get us drinks”.

You were sitting on the bar stool waiting for the drinks when a guy two seats away started flirting with you.

“hello beautiful, wanna have a drink with me?” he lifted his drink.

“thanks, but no thanks. I'm already having a drink with my boyfriend and his brother” you informed him.

He stood up and came to you “come on, just one drink”.

“I'm not interested” you rejected his offer.

“who do you think you are? You come in here wearing something like that and expecting me to just let you go” he got closer.

“I can wear whatever the hell I want. And you shouldn't be looking. You need to stop sexualizing everything women wear” you told him.

“ooh. A feminist. I like  me a strong woman” he put his hand on your waist and pulled you closer to him. You removed his hand off of you.

“touch me one more time and you won't have a hand to use” you threatened.

“very scary. Come on, what have you got to lose?”.

“she's not for the taking” Dean realized what was going on and came to you as soon as he saw him touching you.

“and who are you. Don't tell me he's your boyfriend. You can do better than that” he looked down at Dean.

“like you?”.

“yes”.

“I told you I'm not interested”.

“back off. She's mine” Dean told him.

“I wasn't talking to you. I was talking to that doll”.

You saw Dean was making a fist and about to hit him, but you quickly put your hand on his chest to calm him down. You grabbed the drinks and wanted to walk away “come on, babe. Let's go” you directed him in the other direction and he followed until the man said something that made him rage.

“whatever. Don't think you're special. I can have as many whores like you as I want”. That's it. Dean wasn't gonna let him insult you. He walked towards him and started punching him in the face. The man fell on the ground and his face was covered in blood. Dean didn't stop and everyone was looking at him. The man was loosing his consciousness.

“Dean, stop, please! You're making a scene” you put your hand on his shoulder, trying to get him off the man.

“is that what you;re concerned about? Me making a scene?” he was so angry that he almost killed the man. Even Dean's hand started to bleed.

“Dean if you don't stop, you're gonna kill him. Come with me, please” you knelt on the floor to be at  the same eye level as Dean. He looked at you, then at the man and realized what he was doing. He finally stopped and grabbed you by the arm and walked out off the bar.

“You're hurting me Dean” you informed him.

He let go of your arm “you see why I didn't want you to wear that dress” he yelled.

“I had it under control. I can defend myself. If I wanted to hurt him, I could have, but I chose to ignore it. You should learn to control your temper. This isn't the first time and won't be the last time a man  says that to me. Sometimes, you just have to ignore people, because there will always be some stupid ass people who are like that. And if you listen to them every time, you'll lose yourself in the process. Look at your hand, I bet you didn't even realize, you hurt yourself” you took his hand in your hands.

“this is nothing compared to how I felt when he called you a whore” he watched as you tried to clean his wound.

“I know. It hurts me too. But in order for some men to change their sexist thinking, you have to show them and  resist” you explained.

“I'm sorry, I snapped” he apologized.

“it's alright. Just promise me you'll watch your temper next time”.

“I promise” he kissed your forehead.

[herstarburststories]

Calamitous Love

Paring: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Dean shows up at your house, but this is a calamitous love. Sooner or later, it's going to destroy.

A/N: I was based and inspired by so many things to get this ready, I can't even start pointing them here. This started as something and escalated to something else, and I'm immensely in love with how it is now. I'm posting a version of this through Dean's POV soon. The prompt is bolded and its for @tvdspngirl314's bday challenge! Hope you like it, honey! And happy bday.

Warnings: language, mentions of sex, fluff, angst, dean is a perv in a cute way, s1 dean Ily

Dean Winchester could easily remember how mad you were that night, after he purposely came to your party uninvited and stood on the porch talking to all your stupid friends. How the one you called the best out of them had wide eyes when she caught him there, and all the reaction she could get was him winking at her.

The man - who was more like a boy, really - with green eyes that matched your garden knew she would run and rush and breathlessly tell you that he was there.

Of course she did. Inez was never one for keeping secrets. He used to wonder if it was a matter of time for the blonde to spread yours.

Her loose lips were useful that night, though. He couldn't even finish his chatter about Chevrolet versus Toyota cars with that James guy before you bursted out of the door ferociously. Dean turned around and waited for many things; well-deserved slapping, indignated tears, a sharp scream strident enough to suppress the loud song which vibrated through everyone's skin like veins.

You surprised him once again.

You closed your eyelashes and took a deep breath, as if to control the burning fire behind your thoughts. The Winchester had seen her in arguments before, the whole ‘my mouth is a loaded gun without a trigger’ thing held an entirely new meaning. He knew you wanted to come at him, and Dean wouldn’t put any guilty on you for that. As you walked towards him, his brittle heart raced like one of those chick flick moments he always mocked about - yet, he couldn't help but stare. Your legs looked so good in that light, pretty ass that Dean loved to grab wrapped in a tight red skirt. You had a white tank with cleavage on and your hair was, as usual, free on its widest way. The hunter adored how your brown sea could never seem not to be a mess, and how you made chaos marvelous like a natural. He surely needed that in his life.

Isn’t it all you had been since the very beginning, honestly? Isn’t it what love utterly is when the lights are dim and the weather changes? Cutting right to the bone like a surgeon, you were that one thing, that one hand that would touch Dean’s weary head and make it rest, those unique lips who could whisper tales of hope in the backseat of his car and he could actually believe it. The one, you know, that one person who didn’t make the eldest Winchester feel like he cared more than he was cared for. He often experienced that math problem, dad never seemed to be satisfied enough to be proud of him, and Sam was always talking about how he wanted to leave someday.

‘’Dean.’’ You said and your tone was harsh, a single eyebrow arched with a quiet defying question. The green eyed man wouldn't be shocked if you had called him out before when he was too busy paying attention to you to notice. ‘’Let's go to the garden.’’

And then you grabbed his wrist, sneaking in through the rusting garden gates in the back of your house. Such mere touch put his skin on flames. So many others, mostly monsters or people who were really monsters at heart, already chained his hands and he always broke the cuffs. This time, in your hands, Dean almost wished he could stay put, grounded to something else other than bloody walls and oily guns. He missed you so much. The way your fingers felt on his cheeks, how you'd allow him to kiss every inch of your body, and how you seemed to understand.

Anyway, it wasn't time for him to turn sentimental just yet. Leave it to Sam. 

Dean’s boots were cruel against the grass, walking side by side with your high heels ones. Above all the partying noise, they both were quiet for once, as if they were going into a clandestine meeting.

He hated it.

‘’What the fuck are you doing here?’’ you turned around in a swift move before crossing your arms. It took a lot of self control not to glare at your breast, which is why Dean didn’t. He pictured it wasn’t that bed since he was only glancing for a few seconds and the malicious smirk on his face faded into him licking his bottom lip through the memories of fucking, grabbing and playing with them. You rolled your eyes, impressed by my immature behavior. ‘’Winchester, I asked what you are doing here.’’

Always so dominant in every situation but in bed. He sighed to himself, man, I can’t lose her.

‘’Listen, Y/N/N, I’m sorry.’’

‘’You are sorry? You can take your apologies and put them in your sorry ass till’ they come out of your mouth, Dean.’’ And, of course, stubborn. Dean Winchester wouldn't be so attracted to you in any other way. Frisky women always had the best him.

He groaned, ‘’Y/N, come on, it wasn't like that--’’

You interrupted his reasoning with a laugh empty of joy: ‘’You left me. You just walked away. No calls, no texts, just left. You promised you wouldn't. You said I could trust you.’’

‘’And you can!’’

He wasn’t able to blame you for that. Still, it broke him to hear every casual syllable in raw honesty. Dean would kill for you, and you didn’t even trust him because he ran away without any note, or previous warning, or anything. If only he could do the trick of just opening his mouth and allowing his emotions to come arrive, like Sam did all the time. All he tried to be, his little brother was simply born that way. He could never be like Sammy and you deserved a guy like him. Yet, the bruised man - more like a scared boy, really - remained in front of you. Because, for once, Dean wanted to act selfish and get it what he craved for. Just this once.

‘’To leave? Sure.’’ Nonetheless, you never learned how to read his mind, so you just aim a wry smile at him. ‘’Sorry, pal. I already have my mom to do that.’’

In that moment, every word you said was a stone designed to shatter him, and it was working fatefully. Sometimes, the green eyed hunter wished he was the one being left instead of leaving people behind. But how could you know that? It's the job side effect.

Taking a deep breath, your name is leaving his lips calmly. The most calm he had ever been since my three childhood years. ‘’Y/N…’’

‘’No, Dean.’’ You spoke. Because his forest eyes matched a lot with the grass in your garden under that dim light, almost like he was made to be there and you didn’t think you could do it again; lose him. It was too much.

‘’Dang, woman. I'm trying to explain!’’

‘’No, you are trying to come up with a stupid lie to cover up whatever you were doing for two weeks! I'm not stupid and I know you.’’ You accused, exasperatedly slapping your own tights. You were right, he had showed up to your party with a dumb excuse on his tongue, ready to tell you anything but the truth. Fuck, how the short haired hunter wanted you to have the imaginary money to buy one of his cheap lies. ‘’Tell me the truth. Don't come up with my dad needed help with a car and all that. What happened to you, Dean?’’

‘’I can't tell you.’’ He shrugged in frustration. 

I want to tell you everything, even the details in the corner, the monster in the forest.

You smile sarcastically, ‘’I don't see a fold on your lips.’’

But I can’t.

Dean huffed, pursing his lips. ‘’You would hate me.’’

You would think I’m a crazy liar.

‘’I already do.’’

You can be so violent when hurt. You both have bullets in different body parts, and there you are trying to shoot him. Modern Romeo and Juliet, a hunter romance; they try to kill each other instead of the evil thing.

‘’Y/N, you are gonna think I'm crazy.’’ He wiped his face, exasperated for you to change the subject.

Your lips were shut, the light reflected on you. Dean was glaring at you in a quiet desire for you to stay, to make him stay. But you stand still, looking away with delicate woe contorting your features.

It was clear after a hunt when the hunter should leave the town. And it was clear now that he killed any hope for them that Dean shall do what he usually does after a case. Nodding with a sigh, started to walk away.

But you stopped him.

‘’What are you doing?’’ You, in fact, sounded confused. Dean’s eyebrows knitted together, unsure if you two were having the conversation he thought you were not even one minute ago.

The answer resonated more like a question than anything: ‘’Leaving?’’

Your next words were the equivalent to the three ones he had never dared to say. ‘’I don't want you to leave.’’

Yes, the Winchester’s heart was pouring as fast as it was when he went on his first hunt. Yes, he could hear an old rock song playing when you have that look on your face. Yes, he knew he was acting like Sammy and all his cheesy discourses right now.

Who cares?

Apart from all that, Dean offered you a cocky smile. ‘’What do you want, sweetheart?’’

‘’Kiss me.’’

And he did. You trusted him in the garden and he got you back. Dean kissed you in the porch in front of all your stupid friends, too. And then he kissed you again in my car under the streetlight and in so many other uncountable places.

He was the person who got left a few years after that. As if his sorrow had become the prey for some cosmic joke. Sammy left for Stanford and it made his dad, well, more dad than usual. The weird thing was, inside of the grief of being left, Dean understood what he did to you. He had a lot of blood in his hands, enough to turn an ocean red if he ever tried to clean them, but I knew that leaving you was the worst thing that I had ever done.

Well, at least that was what two bottles of Whiskey helped him to get to.

Dean guessed he got what you felt on your porch that night as well. When he walked in, you knew you'd forgive him but you needed to sting back. As Sam left, his older brother already knew he'd forgive him, too. Dean fought about it, and I felt betrayed- wounded animals still attack. But he had forgave him the moment he missed him.

You forgave Dean too, and nowadays he resented for that with an insufferable regret. Because then he told you the truth about the world and showed you his scars. He kissed you, and your lips found every ugly in him. Still, they kept asking him for more. Your lips were the bed for my monster to sleep under.

Real monsters found them.

A few years later, the trio was in a town. You had a vacation from college - you dated a hunter with 5 bucks to his name, and you were studying journalism in a conceited university. It made no sense to Dean sometimes. All you asked for was to spend your free time with him and a call each night to make sure he was alive, which he gave you happily. Besides finding a way to go near your city at least once a month, more for himself than anything else. How did he get so lucky?

You liked certain aspects of the hunter life, surprisingly. The driving away, the creatures, even the restaurants. ‘’Come on, you guys hunt monsters. How cool is that? Also just driving, eating in a new place everyday. Did I mention monsters are real? You guys are like heroes!’’

He shook his head at your optimism, stroking your naked form gently that night.‘’We aren't here, Y/N. This life, it ends early and bloody. There is no place for white fancies and normal.’’

‘’Who said that I want that?’’ You mocked right before pressing your lips to the hickey on his neck, gaining a content groan from Dean. ‘’You monsters. As far as I'm concerned, you are a hero. My hero.’’ You add a subtle joke. ‘’Like a fairytale.’’

He scoffed and pulled you closer. ‘’More like a horror movie.’’ 

‘’Haven’t you read fairytales?’’ 

‘’No, but I did see the porn version.’’ Done with talking, he got on top of you, wearing that lopsided grin that started it all over again.

Years back, he asked you what you wanted. And you said, kiss me.

You kept saying that for a decade. Growing that calamitous love, feeding it with stolen glances and touches. If you knew what’s next, would you do it again?

Now you are laying on the ground as he got on my knees and pulled you closer. You are almost dead, a half lifeless body, but you hold on so tight to life, gasping for it. His stubborn girl who he loved so.

Your voice, usually so determined, is barely a whimper. ‘’Everyone wants a fairytale love.’’

‘’What? Don’t get sentimental on me, Y/N. You aren’t gonna die.’’ Dean says exasperated. It isn’t blind faith, unrealistic optimism or anything like this. It’s denial, one of the stages of grief he’s familiar with. It lives with him, as loyal as a dog, as present as a long lost mother’s love; he ignores the acceptance and hope, jumping right into anger, guilt, denial, and bargains with the devil. As if death is a champagne problem he can just drink and be done with because hey, if you can’t lose something, then you won’t right? Right? And if you do lose it, then you’ll just die too. Someone loses oxygen, they die. Someone loses too much blood, they die.

He will die if he loses you, he will. Dean is devastatingly sure of that. He can feel it in his bones. If you die, he dies. His body, his cicatrized soul was made out of in woe. That man - scared little boy like he was when Mary died, really -, He knows sadness like an old lover who always visits, and death is an old friend who always shakes his hands and appears without an invite. Dean Winchester knows pain, alright? Ask any person, he’s the Rome for men, built in ruins despise the beauty of good.

But this? No. He can’t survive. It isn’t possible that someone can hold so much suffering and agony. Skin and bone can only take so many hematomas. 

‘’Dean, shut up.’’ You place your hand on his cheek and Dean can’t help but lean in. His green eyes are glistening, the memory of the garden reminiscing in the back of your mind. ‘’I’ve wanted a fairytale love since I was a kid and my dad used to read the books my mom left on the shelf for me. So, in my defense, I never actually read them.’’

‘’Is this what a fairytale looks to you?’’ The eldest Winchester asks, not missing how your touch is colder against him. Where’s Sam with the car? Where’s a miracle? Where’s the justice and fair things and anything good? Dying in his arms, sinking her fingernails into his skin.

‘’The original ones, yes. They are just like that.’’ You chortle, but what’s meant to sound like happiness develops into a cough. All the energy and strength you have are used to push the words. You need Dean to know. ‘’I don't regret anything. You loved me, and I loved you. This is good. I don’t want your silly little mind to think any other way. You aren’t the villain in my story, Dean. You are the…’’ You’re interrupted by your own body giving up on you at an alarming rate, more bloodstained coughing.

‘’Don’t speak, honey. You’ll be alright, okay? No goodbye, we don’t do goodbye. You’ll be alright. Just keep yourself awake, ok?’’ Dean doesn’t know what to do other than hold you. What does one do with all the throbbing aches? He can’t say he will see you in heaven if you die. Staying with you for ten years was heaven already and this is the price he pays. That’s like when the ocean drains in a flash right in front of your eyes and someone tells you to swim in the sky instead. He can’t jump high enough to get it, he isn’t tall enough to get it. But God, Dean can’t just give up, he can’t just let you go. You are bleeding out and he’s dying with you. ‘’Please.’’ The Winchester pleas. ‘’Don’t leave me. Please.’’

If this is how you die and you can only pick up some words to say, you need to spell love. You need Dean Winchester to know he was loved with your last breath, there’s no better use to life other than love. Therefore, it’s easy to know what to voice when you look into his eyes one last time. ‘’I love you.’’

Through the agony, Dean gives you the sort of smile... You know, the sort of smile that can only be described by I put my home on fire, so I could eat all the flames and all the bright blaze is in my teeth now. Because something is burning and you are becoming ashes, but you love this. You love that boy and he loves you. You’d do it all again. He rests his forehead against yours and you can feel his tears on your face, his hands holding you for dear life.

‘’I love you too.’’

It’s a good thing to hear as you close your eyes.

Comment & reblog. Feedback is magic! Check my masterlist ♡ Tags in reblog!

[laufire]

end of year giffing meme

I saw tagged by @habibialkaysani (ty!)

find your favourite gifset of each month out of your own works this year and link them, so your followers can see your awesome work. tag some people to do the same and appreciate their own work!

I predict I’m going to cheat in more than one month of these and pic more than one. Who’s gonna stop me lmao.

January: ooooh, January was a good month (I need to return to my regular Black Sails giffin this year asdfaf). The very apt transition of a Silverflint scene with Thomas’ “everybody needs a partner quote” lol. Max being smug about her seduction techniques xD; Bela revealing herself as a conwoman; Dean and Bela’s first proper meeting, when he breaks into her house (their scenes this episode fucked so hard *-*); Silverflint ~courting each other with their cunning schemes in 2x02 xD; and Flint putting on The Coat in the candlelight.

February: February was also a good month. You have Bela stealing money from the Winchesters; Eleanor pointing out the hold Miranda has over Flint; Dean’s failure to read Bela; Deanbela engaging in Hot Batcat Shit; Miranda seducing Flint 1 + 2; and Bela and the Winchesters inconveniencing each other (also called hostile flirting, by me).

March: honestly all of the sets from this subplot/scene(s) are great and hilarious (and took me well over a month because Bela has looooots of scenes in 3x06 lol), but the one where Bela makes Dean look like a cuckhold? Classic.

April: this one with characters I see myself in; Sam and Ruby engaging in gun play; this hilarious Jack Rackham-Castiel parallel (I’M NOT SORRY); Bela’s outfits in 3x06 because she looks gorgeous and looks like leading girl material; and my “Castiel saved Bela per Sam’s request in 3x06″ self-indulgent set :D

May: I love all the sets I made for SPN Women’s Week, but especially the one combining my faves + Greek mythological figures; this one with my top ten where I got to try a new effect in giffing since... forever ago, with transitioning images; and this other one of my faves, because. Also, all of the gifs I made for Reign’s challenge, Because.

June: THEE (sexy) Inesper scene (posted on my birthday, nice gift from me to me. Also, man, colouring this show is a paaaaain lol); this set of Luisa D’Oliveira’s blink-and-you-miss-it cameo in Superngirl (a show I don’t watch, but she looked pretty and wore a lilac leather jacket AND was hancuffed in one scene? C’mon); this Rizzy edit I made for @equusgirl‘s bday, ‘cause I miss my bbys; and this scene from Watchmen ‘cause I think Cal’s hilarious.

July: the final set I made for SPN POC Week, mixing my fave characters with Greek mythological figures (again, I love all the gifsets I made for that event but that one is so *-*); this parallel set between a scene from Angel and one from Scandal with a ~pathos I find really moving; and the one I made from the scene in Supernatural’s season 3 episode 10 where Sam dreams he eats Bela’s pussy. Very feminist of him <3

August: this angsty series finale Silver-centric/Silvermadi-Silverflint set; THEE (emotional) Inesper scene; and this Castiel/godstiel set with a quote from 1994′s Frankenstein film (NOT from the original book!! I’m petty about this but people keep misatributing it lol).

September: okay I can reduce this month to one! Celebratory Castiel gifset on the anniversary of his introduction to the show xD (warning for flashing gifs)

October: this Silverflint series finale set; this wonderful scene where Dorian tells off Stefan in TVD (being meaning to edit that for YEARS), and this Regina-Cora set I made for @lvcilla‘s bday.

November: nooooooo, not the Megstiel Fest month :(((. LOL. I refuse to choose between the one with Megstiel’s kiss + Like Real People Do, this other one with Halsey’s honey, and (okay, fine, this might be my most favouritest) the criminally unnapreciated Megstiel + Batman Returns Batcat parallels set :DDD

December: can’t choose between this endverse!Castiel gifset with “Achilles Come Down” or this Dadstiel gifset <333

Also, my favourite gifset of THIS month will be coming on Saturday, as an advance xDD

tagging (and you can pic graphics too, not just gifs if that’s not what you do): @angelfishofthelord @chiara-mastroianni @elloras @findsilver @idontwikeit @juliareed @lukearnold @ladyculebras @nomattertheoceans and whoever else feels up for it

[impalaimagining]

Muscle Memory

Pairing: Jared x Reader

Word Count: 1,181

Warnings: smut

A/N: Have some fluff to make up for yesterday’s hellish angst.Written for @plaid-lover-bay25‘s Bday Mashup Challenge. Happy early birthday, Bay! <3 My prompt is bolded in the fic. Also written for @spnfluffbingo.

Square filled: Kissed to keep quiet

Unbeta’d.

SPN Fluff Bingo - Masterlist

“I swear to God, Jay,” you cracked the beer as you kicked the cooler shut, “I’ll kill you if you try to set me up with another one of your friends.”

“Oh, relax. I’m done with that. I can barely invite anybody over anymore after you turned them all down after the first date.” Jensen teased as he sipped from his beer.

“Shut up!” You threw your towel at him as he laughed. “I mean it, Jensen. I don’t want to feel obligated to go out with these guys because they’re friends with you.”

“I know, I know. I swear,” he crossed his finger over his heart, “no set ups today.”

“Thank you.” You stood on your toes and kissed his cheek before he sat down and steered the boat deeper into the marina.

Surrounded by laughing, almost inevitably drunk men, you sat at the front of the boat with your feet up and the sun hitting your skin while the wind whipped your hair around. You’d been alone at the bow long enough to polish off two beers, and as you turned to grab another from the cooler, you realized someone had joined you.

“Hi.” He smiled kindly as you reached into the cooler.

“Yeah, hi.” You kept your eyes down, watching your hand pull the last can from the ice. As you let the cooler lid fall closed, your gaze moved up his long legs and over his torso, then finally to his scruffy, dimpled smile. “H- hi...” You breathed out.

He chuckled, obviously taking in your sudden flustered state. “You’re a friend of Jensen’s, I assume?”

“I am, yeah. You too?” You swallowed hard and picked at the fringe of your bathing suit top.

“We work together.” He leaned back onto his seat and you watched as his chest muscles flexed with his movements. 

You cleared your throat. “So, uh, did they give you a name along with all those rippling pectorals?” A nervous laugh escaped your lips.

The man cackled and tipped his head back. “Yeah, they did. I’m Jared.” He extended his hand and you shook it gently.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, Jared.”

Two years after you met Jared that day on the boat, the two of you were sitting together on a plane to Las Vegas. You squeezed his hand anxiously as the plane landed, and he leaned over and kissed your temple.

You spent all day Friday exploring the strip, Jared and Jensen and their bodyguard - which was still so weird to you - by your side. Saturday, Jared made you vow to stay in bed with him all day. 

Not a bad thing. Not a bad thing at all.

Sunday morning rolled around and Jared pulled himself out of bed reluctantly.

“Don’t go.” You whined, reaching out for his hand. “Stay in bed with me.”

Jared laughed, leaning toward you and kissing you hastily. “I gotta get out there before your friend comes barging in and sees you naked.” He teased with a roll of his eyes. 

“Our friend can wait.” You sat up and positioned yourself behind Jared kissing his shoulder and then swinging your legs around until you were standing with a leg on either side of his thighs. Jared’s hands found your hips and he groaned when you raked your nails down his chest.

Pounding on the door ripped you both away from one another. “Let’s go!” Jensen’s voice boomed from the hallway.

You huffed and Jared tipped his head back. “I told you.” 

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes. “Go. But make sure you remember who’s waiting for you back in this hotel room.” Biting your lip, you dug your nails into Jared’s pec, leaving little red crescent shapes in your wake.

Jared sat on his chair at the panel, Jensen threatening rock, paper, scissors. Jared scoffed and stood up, tearing his jacket down his arms and slinging it over the back - front - of his seat. As he straddled the cushion again, his fingers gripped the edges of the back, then he made his pecs dance under his too-tight t-shirt.

You were sitting in the third row. Jared had spotted you not even five minutes into the panel. He knew exactly what he was doing. Rubbing your thighs together, you chewed on the inside of your lower lip and sent him a quick text, telling him to meet you in the long hall by the green room immediately after the panel.

Three of the longest minutes of your life ticked by while you waited for Jared. He ducked into the hallway and grabbed you around your waist, pushing you against the wall and kissing you hard. You squealed, ready to tear him apart for what he’d done. 

You shoved Jared by the shoulders, pushing him off of you and stomping your foot. “What the hell was that?!” You demanded. “What do you think you’re doing, flexing your p-”

Jared cut you off with another kiss, his tongue sweeping over your lower lip and melting you instantly. You gave in, twisting your fingers into his shirt and biting at his lip as he kissed you. When he pulled away, he chuckled. “You have to stay quiet. People can hear you out there, and I want a few minutes alone.”

“You’re lucky if you get a few seconds out of me after that.” You huffed, trying to keep your anger at the forefront. Jared smirked and kissed you again, pushing his hand between your bodies and grinding the heel of his palm against your clit. You moaned into his kiss and he pulled away.

“Quietly.” He murmured as he rolled his nose down the side of your neck. Jared’s teeth nipped at your pulse point and you whimpered. “Jesus, okay. New plan.” Jared dipped his fingers into your underwear and molded his mouth with yours. Every sound you made was muffled by Jared’s kisses.

His fingers danced over your clit before he pushed his middle finger into you slowly. Your fingertips dug into Jared’s shoulders and back as he pumped his finger in and out of you. He made quick work of adding another finger and bringing you to the edge. Jared felt your walls fluttering around him, your body threatening to give out under his ministrations. He pulled his fingers from within you and rubbed tight circles over your clit until your legs shook and you arched against Jared’s body.

Jared smiled and pulled himself away from you, leaving you panting and chasing his kiss, your hands gripping his t-shirt and pulling him back to you. “Relax, baby.” He kissed you softly. 

“You’re damn lucky you’re cute.” You scoffed with a light roll of your eyes. Jared smiled and threw his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his side. Your hand rested on his chest and he bounced his pec. You smirked and glanced up at him.

“What?” Jared could see the glint of trouble in your eyes.

You shrugged. “Oh, nothin’, hot stuff. I’m just wondering, did they give you a name along with all those rippling pectorals?”

vegascon gif: x

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[witchofletters]

SO GOOD, BABE!!! @samsbeecharmer That's my wife, guys!

A Hundred Years

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester (mentioned), Reader

Summary: Injured and left behind while Sam and Dean are gone on a hunt, you realize just how much the younger Winchester means to you.

Warnings: Fluff, Disney

AO3 Link

Word Count: 575

Author’s Note: I wrote this for @plaid-lover-bay25 ‘s birthday challenge. I had prompt #61: “I would rather die tomorrow than live a hundred years without knowing you.”

It was as if silence had a sound. The bunker practically rang it was so quiet.

Sam and Dean had been gone for six days now on a job in Indiana. You hadn’t joined them because the last hunt you’d gone on went horribly wrong and you’d ended up beat to hell. The doctor had informed you there were four broken ribs and a fractured wrist. Even breathing was sometimes a laborious task.

Your room was your sanctuary. A place you could go to be alone with your thoughts. Dean had made sure you had your own television and Sam had made sure it was hooked up to Netflix. Both of them were still complaining about the fire hazard your candles created, but you tended to ignore their manic worrying.

Keep reading

[ellen-reincarnated1967]

@cleverdame Vday/Bday Challenge, angst, slight horror, poor Sam.

The screams were so loud, deafening, as Sam lurched sluggishly through the halls of the bunker.

You screamed his name, over, and over, and it was as if you were hiding in a tunnel, his name echoing off the walls.

The pain in his head was suffocating, his eyesight failing, trusting only his ears.

Shame, he should have trusted his gut instead. For you were no where, you hadn’t existed, just a figment of the drug induced paranoia, his latest captor tranquilized him with.

Yet, he kept searching, hands to the wall, one in front of his face, your shrill terrorizing trills begging him to hurry.

Sam crashed onto his knees, his captor maniacally laughing at the poor, Winchester.

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[princessmisery666]

Hi, I'd like to sign up for for your triple challenge thingy :D I'm gonna write some Geralt and use Quote 2- "You keep saying you want to change things, but you keep repeating old behaviour. You can’t have it both ways.” and might possibly use Title 5- Sword of Glass. And @samsexualdeancurious is gonna do a moodboard type deal based on whatever I end up writing. Thanks for this cool little challenge/celebration and congrats and happy early birthday!

Oooooo I’m so excited. Thank you @manawhaat and @samsexualdeancurious (awesome name btw) for taking part.

I’m already drooling at the thought of Geralt!! 🤤

⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️ Join the fun here ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

https://princessmisery666.tumblr.com/post/190532891234/triple-celebration-multiple-fandoms-dont-have

[bamby0304]

7 Days

Summary: When you and Dean have a fight, some hurtful things are said. Unable to bear it any longer, you leave. For the next week, you try your best to move on, truly thinking it’s all over. But is it??

Pairing: Dean x Reader

A/N: This is for @sis-tafics’ ‘Jill’s Bday Pop Punk Challenge’. My prompt was 7 Days by The Summer Set. Honestly, I had to look up the majority of the songs because I’d never heard of them (or the artists), but the instant I heard the first line to this one, I needed it :P

Warnings: Angst, explicit language, more angst, just a bit more angst… and then some fluff to finish it off :):)

Bamby

Day 1

The motel door slammed behind Dean, steam practically fuming out of his ears. He was pissed… but so were you.

Sam, he wasn't an idiot. The second the case was over, the instant he saw the two of you glaring at each other, he bolted. You had no idea where the younger Winchester had gone off to, but suddenly you wanted nothing more than to hide out with him. Fights with Dean weren't what you'd call fun.

"If you've got something to say, then say it." You tossed your jacket onto the bed. "I can't read your mind, Dean."

He scoffed, shaking his head as he moved to the small kitchen, pulling a beer out of the fridge. "You know what's wrong, Y/N."

Ah, yes, the passive aggressive use of first names. It was something you'd both done since the beginning of your friendship, long before you'd started dating. If either of you were upset with the other, the overuse of their name was an instant sign.

"No, I don't, Dean." You did. "Please, enlighten me."

Back to you, one hand on the bench, gripping it white-knuckle tight as he downed his first beer in a matter of seconds, he said nothing. His whole body was tense, the heat of his anger vibrating off him, pushing at the tension that was bound to snap at any moment.

You weren't going to be the one to break it though. It's one of your downfalls. Your stubbornness was weak enough to let you get angry and bite at him, but strong enough to hold back and wait for him to explode first. It made him the bad guy. It added fuel to your fire. It made you feel like you had every right to feel the way you did. It gave you a reason to snap back.

Slamming the empty beer bottle onto the bench- with enough force to underline his anger, but not enough to break the glass- he waited a second or two longer before spinning on his heels to look at you.

His green eyes were ablaze. His jaw tense and ticking. Nostrils flaring. Hands fighting not to curl into fists. He was right there, on the edge… and you were right there, ready to push him over.

All it took was a harder glare and your arms lifting to fold over your chest, a sign of defiance and a reminder of your stubbornness… that had him tumbling.

"We had a plan, Y/N. We spent hours working out that plan. You came up with most of it. Sam was supposed to distract them. I was supposed to take the shot. You were supposed to keep watch. We had a fucking plan!"

"And I had a fucking opening!" you bit back. "You were taking too long, Sam was gonna get caught. I had to do something, Dean."

"So, throwing yourself into a fucking werewolf den is doing something? You really think that was smart, Y/N?"

"It was better than twiddling my thumbs."

"What if there were more?"

"There weren't, Dean."

"But there could have been!" he yelled, voice so loud it was only a matter of moments before the motel staff started knocking on the door.

"But. There. Weren't," you repeated, voice rising as well. "We ganked them. End of story. Who cares about the details?"

"Me! I care! You could have fucking died!"

"I could die every day, Dean. We're hunters. I am a hunter. It's not like I'm a fucking teacher. I don't sit behind a fucking desk all day. We're always in danger, that's just how it is. You should be used to it by now."

"That's not the problem, Y/N!" He shook his head, anger boiling to that point we'd both regret…

"What's the fucking problem then?! What have I done, Dean? What, are you pissed I took the kill? Did I hurt your precious ego?"

"I couldn't care less about the fucking kill! What pisses me off is the fact you don't care. You're always so fucking reckless! You jump in without thinking. We're always cleaning up after you. You make me wanna tear my fucking hair out. I'm sick of it!"

You fell silent. Your anger faded like a fire being put out with a tsunami… the tsunami, in this case, being an ocean of hurt.

Dean turned away from you, the look on his face conveying just how done he really was.

He was sick of it. He was sick of you. That's the problem here.

After years of hunting side by side with the Winchesters, after being with Dean for almost just as long, he'd finally had enough. Dean was sick of you. Your boyfriend, the love of your life, the one person in the whole universe you trusted to no end… was sick of you.

"Fine." The word came out cold, flat, hard. "You're sick of it? Then I'll get out of your hair."

Spinning on your heels, you started for the door and without thinking… grabbed the keys to the Impala.

Having not been watching you, it took a few moments before Dean realised you'd taken the keys. When the roar of the engine coming to life filled the parking lot, that's when he came running out of the room, his anger ten times worse now.

Keeping eye contact with him, you pulled out of the lot, wheels spinning, dust clouding behind you as you sped down the road, getting the hell out of there.

Day 2

You wanted to go to the bunker. Sitting in the diner, fiddling with a loose string hanging off the sleeve of your flannel, you knew you should go.

Part of it was because you were pretty sure you and Dean were over. You should go, take Baby back, grab all your things, and leave. Hopefully the guys wouldn't be there, that way you could to it without any more drama.

The other part of you hoped they would be back. If they were, then you could apologise. You'd swear until your face turned blue, promising to never be so reckless ever again. You'd beg Dean to take you back, even after everything you said… even after you'd stolen his car.

But it didn't matter what you wanted, you weren't going anywhere near the bunker. You were too stubborn.

There was no doubt in your mind that people were worried. Sam would know everything by now. Even though Dean was pissed, he still would have called his brother… you had stolen the car, remember. Then they would have called every hunter they know, telling them to keep an eye out for you and the Impala.

So, despite the fact you had no clothes, hardly any money, your phone had died and you'd left your charger at the motel… you weren't going anywhere. You weren't calling anyone for help. You were going to fall off the grid, at least for a while. You needed the time off, some space, a breather.

Day 3

The best thing about becoming homeless? You weren't actually homeless.

For years you'd lived on the road. There'd been plenty of nights where you and the boys had slept in the Impala instead of getting a room at some motel. The fact you were now alone just meant you didn't have to sleep squished next to Dean in the front seat.

Plus, you were an amazing at pool… and even better at hustling. One moment you barely had enough money to buy yourself a meal… the next moment your pockets were full. You had enough money to by yourself some clothes and food, and still had plenty of change. You could have easily stayed at a motel… but you didn't.

Your pain had turned to paranoia. You were sure if you stayed somewhere you'd be found. Someone would see the car and call the brothers. You couldn't risk it. So, you stuck to sleeping on the uncomfortable leather seats in the Impala, parked in alleyways, behind buildings, on deserts roads, under the cover of trees and bushes.

The worst thing about becoming homeless? Your new home was a constant reminder of the life you left behind… and you man you still loved so deeply and painfully, despite the fact he'd ripped your heart out of your chest.

Day 4

Tears streamed down your face. Your face was red, body curled up in the back seat on the Impala as you hugged a blanket to your chest. A blanket you'd pulled out of the trunk. A blanket that smelt like Dean.

You were a mess. It had finally hit you. The fight, everything he said, the look in his eyes, the lonely days you'd spent without him since storming out. You had tried to push it as far back in the depths of your mind, but today it had decided to ignore your efforts and make itself known. All night his words had played over and over in your head.

He was sick of you.

How could he be sick of you? Were you really that annoying? Was it really that bad? When did it all go downhill? Why didn't he say something earlier? Did Sam know? Were you the only one blind to the truth? Was it all out of pity? Had he just settled? Did he even love you?

After thinking about it all night, you realised you really were reckless. Your temper was horrible. You made fun of him all the time. You pretended to flirt with other people all the time. You were extremely stubborn. You were a horrible girlfriend.

You didn't want to go back to the bunker anymore. You were sure you wouldn't be welcome. You were sure both brothers would simply send you on your way- not before telling you off for taking Baby though. You were sure neither of them wanted to see you ever again.

You'd really screwed things up this time.

Day 5

After taking yesterday off to relax a little, to calm down from your emotional breakdown, the next day you were pissed. You were angry that you let yourself think all those horrible things about yourself. Even if some of them were true, this was not all your fault. Dean was as wrong as you were.

With your temper flaring, you were on a mission.

Your morning had been spent sitting in a diner, flicking through newspapers and online articles. You didn't care what came up, you needed a case. Ghost, ghouls. Witches, werewolves. Dragons, demons. Whatever it was, you were ready to rip it to shreds.

By lunch time, you found a case. Something easy. Just a quick vampire case. In an out, nothing serious, no harm done.

At least that's what you thought.

When the sun had set, the moon full and bright in the night sky, you'd set off. You were sure you knew where the vampires were holed up. You were sure it was just two. You were sure you could handle it by yourself.

You were wrong.

After killing the first one and starting on the second, a third jumped out. You'd been prepared for that one though, just in case- and to prove to yourself you weren't as reckless as Dean said. But the fourth had been too much.

Sure, in the end you managed to gank all of them, but it didn't come easy, and it didn't come without some bloodshed.

That night, you had no choice but to get a motel room. You needed a shower, a proper bed to sleep in and a place to clean your wounds. It was pretty bad. You were considering going to a hospital, but didn't want to risk it. Your next of kin was Dean…

Instead, you cleaned yourself up as best as you could. It was the gash on your leg that was the worst. One of the vamps had stabbed you with your own knife. Your shoulder had dislocated as well, but you'd managed to- painfully- pop it back into place. There were cuts and bruises all over, but they were easily fixed.

Once you were finished, you limped over to the bed to grab the bag you'd dumped there earlier. Inside was some beef jerky, a bottle of whiskey, pain killers and a charger that would fit your phone.

Plugging the charger in, you set your phone on the night stand as you picked at the jerky, needing something in your stomach. Pulling the sheets back and sliding in, you sipped at the glass of water you'd left on the nightstand so you could take enough of the pain killers to knock you out. When you fell asleep, you the grateful to find yourself too exhausted to dream.

Day 6

Sulking in your room, nursing your wounds and the bottle of whiskey you'd bought yesterday, you sat at the table staring at your phone.

It had charged all night. You'd left it off, and let it do its thing. But now it was done, ready to go. All it would take was one simple push of a button. You could turn it on and see exactly who has tried contacting you, and what they've said. You would finally be able to see how pissed everyone has been. You'd finally get confirmation that you were no longer wanted.

But you just couldn't do it.

If you turned the phone on and got as much hate as you were expecting, you weren't sure if you could handle it. In this life you don't have a lot of friends, and the ones you do have you stick with. They're more like family. So if they were as mad as you expected, you were going to take it horribly.

Then there was the chance that it wouldn't be as bad as you expected. They might not be as angry. They might be more worried than anything. If that's the case, if they're concerned and asking where you are, telling you to come home… you weren't sure you wouldn't give in and go back.

For hours, you just sat there, staring at the black, blank screen. You pictured a million different messages, guessed how many missed calls you had. You wondered who might have contacted you. Who had Dean and Sam contacted?

Jody, no doubt. Not just because you looked to her like a mother, but also because she had contacts that came with her job. If you hadn't gone to her for help, then they could still use her to find you other ways.

Donna, too. If they got both women looking, there was a bigger chance a cop somewhere would spot either you or the car. Plus, Dean knew she would be the second person you'd turn to.

Next is Garth. He was every hunter's go-to man. When you'd run off the other day you knew you could have called him for help…but you also knew he wouldn't take sides. If Sam and Dean asked, Garth would tell them just enough to help them out, but not so much to give you away.

Claire was an option. She hunted by herself these days, and the brothers knew the two of you were close friends. If either of you needed a hand, you could trust the other. But Claire was too close to Jody, so you'd kept your distance.

There were others, of course. You knew a lot of hunters. There was bound to be at least a dozen messages from them, asking where you are just so they could relay the information back to Dean.

The longer you thought about it, the more curious you got. Your fingers itched, wanting to press that one button and see who exactly had contacted you. You wanted to see the names pop up on the screen. You wanted to know who cared about you, and who cared about Dean.

In the end, you gave in.

Maybe it was all this time alone? Maybe it was the lack of fighting going on? Maybe it was all the guilt you felt? Maybe it was the fact you'd drunk too much? Maybe you were just tired? Whatever it was, your stubbornness seemed to be dimming…

Sitting there, you watched as the screen lit up, the phone turning on. It was just a matter of waiting after that.

Twenty-four seconds later and your phone was going crazy. It vibrated against the table so much, it nearly fell off the side. It buzzed so loudly, it sounded like a swarm of bees lived inside it. There were so many messages, you weren't sure if you could get through them all in one day…

The first few were just from Dean. He'd been pissed- understandably. More hurtful things had been sent through, but nothing stood out more than the fact he wanted you to bring his car back. That's what really had him fuming.

After a couple of hours Sam joined the messaging. He was more concerned than anything. There were a few warnings about the car, but that was mainly because he was worried about the aftermath of your actions. Mostly, he just wanted you to come home.

Just as you'd predicted, Jody, Donna and Garth had messaged you as well. They wanted you to tell them where you were, to go home, to go to them, to call someone. They just wanted to know you were okay.

Claire had messaged, too. But she was different. She'd offered to join you. She'd offered to let you hunt with her for as long as you needed. For someone who put on a tough exterior, she'd really stepped up and tried to be the best friend you might need.

There were a few messages from Cas, but they weren't detailed enough for you to know if he was genuinely worried, or just doing something because he felt like it was the right thing to do. He was friend of yours… but he was also a friend of Dean's.

By the time you got to the last few messages, you found they had become less frequent… except for Dean's.

He'd messaged you almost every hour of every day. There was a mixture of anger and concern- which wasn't just about his car anymore. One second he would be yelling into the phone, demanding you come home and stop being so stupid. The next second he'd be apologising left, right and centre. He'd be pissed, and then guilty. He'd tell you it was over, and then he'd beg you to forgive him.

It seemed he'd been going through the same emotional troubles as you had.

You skipped the majority of texts, opting to listen to your voicemail instead- there was less of them. You listened to the messages for the rest of the day. Hearing and seeing all the messages told you what you needed to know. You were missed, and people cared about you. But you weren't sure if that was enough to go home. You weren't sure if Dean meant it when he wanted you back, or if he meant it when he said he was sick of it all.

Day 7

You were going stir crazy in the motel room. Sure, you needed to heal, and it's not like you had anywhere else to go, but with no company to distract you, you were going insane.

So, after a careful but long shower, you decided to head to the local diner to grab some breakfast. You would get enough social interaction for the day to keep you sane, offer more food than the pizza you'd had delivered yesterday, and let you stretch your legs a little more.

A quick job. Just make an order, take the food and head back to the motel.

It all went just as successfully as you'd hoped. Your leg was in a lot of pain, but you were thankful for the movement and small chat you had with the diner waitress. It seemed like today was actually going to be an enjoyable one. That was until you got back to your motel room.

There was no sign of any difference. You were complete and totally oblivious to what you were about to be faced with.

Sliding out of Baby, the bag of food tucked securely to your chest, you hobbled over to your room. Using your free hand, you fished your keys out of the pocket of your jeans and slid them into your room's door. Opening it, you stepped inside and closed the door behind you, still in your own little oblivious world. When you turned around you froze and came crashing back to Earth.

He was sitting on the bed, elbows resting on his thighs, hands clasped together. He'd been waiting. You had no idea how long. Now that you were here, he stood, slowly and carefully so as not to scare you. His eyes were soft… and hurt. He'd been worried, you already knew that. But you hadn't realised he'd been hurting, too. At least not as much as you could see now.

Time passed. You had no idea if it was minutes or seconds. Neither of you spoke, your stubbornness rooting itself back in place. It seemed he'd gained some control during your time apart, because instead of breaking first, he just waited.

Knowing it was the right thing to do, you offered a reprieve, speaking up to break through the deafening silence that had settled in the room.

"How'd you find me?"

"GPS," he answered simply. "You turned your phone on yesterday."

Nodding, you took the couple of steps to your left and placed your food down… along with the keys to the Impala. "Well, there you go. She'd got a full gas. I gave her a wash, too," you told him, refusing to look his way. "She's all yours. You can go now."

He stayed standing there, watching you without a word.

The silence settled again, stretching, screaming, begging either of you to respond. It was the elephant in the room. Silence between you and Dean was rare, you usually fought, loudly, not letting more than a few seconds pass before you were yelling at the top of your lungs. Silence was worse. It spoke a million more words than any scream.

Trying it ignore the silence, you grabbed your coffee and started for the couch, wanting to put your leg up and enjoy your drink. You'd hoped Dean would grab the keys once you were away from them, and take his leave. But your plans never did run as smoothly as you like.

You took three steps before Dean noticed something was wrong.

"You're hurt."

"I'm fine," you assured him.

He ignored you, heading your way. When you tried to shoo him back it did nothing to deter his actions. If Dean was on a mission, nothing much could stop him.

Prying your coffee from your grasp, he reached over and placed it back on the table. With his and your hands free, he wasted no time in lifting you into his arms. You didn't bother arguing, just offered a roll of your eyes- hoping he couldn't feel your heart hammering inside you. Gently, he set you on the bed, before he got to work, looking you over.

There were no insecurities when it came to him looking you over. Long before you'd started dating, both Dean and you had patched up more wounds than you could count. You'd both seen every inch of each other's bodies before you'd even shared a kiss.

Once he was sure the rest of you was okay, he silently asked you if he could check your legs. His eyes locked onto yours, the words written in the green you loved so much. All you had to do was give a short nod before he started to carefully pry your jeans from your body.

When he unwrapped the bandage on your leg, you could sense his concern. His fingers ghosted over the skin around the wound. His eyes took it all in to assess the damage. His jaw clicked in that way it did whenever he got protective over you. His shoulders tensed as he realised how bad it was.

"This is bad. Why didn't you call for help? You could have died."

There it was. A slap to the face. A reminder of everything he'd said to you.

"I'm reckless, remember? It's what I do," you responded coldly.

Shaking his head, he got up and moved to grab fresh bandages out of the bathroom. "Don't do this now. I don't want to fight."

You just couldn't help yourself. "Why? Because you're sick of me?"

Coming back to the bed, he crouched down in front of you, his eyes on your wound as he got to work. "Do you really think I would have spent the last week going out of my mind if I was sick of you?"

"Habits are hard to break."

"You're not a habit," he argued, wrapping up your leg.

"No. But I'm annoying. I don't think. I'm stupid. I don't care. I'm a liability. I make you want to tear your hair out."

"Yeah, you do make me want to tear my hair out. You piss me off. You get on my nerves." He nodded, still looking down at your leg as he continued to dress it carefully so as not to hurt you anymore than you already were. "You are the most infuriating woman I have ever met, and I wouldn't have it any other way. You're the only person I trust enough to be myself with. We fight like we're gonna kill each other. But I always thought once we calmed down, you'd still be there."

Finished with your leg, he stood and started to clean up. Putting everything away, throwing the old bandages in the bin. He moved along, keeping busy, while neither of you spoke. Silence found its way back in the room.

You weren't sure if this was him giving you a chance to argue, or respond at all. If it was, you weren't sure you could speak. You were trying to process what he was saying, what he meant.

When you stayed silent and he finished cleaning up, he came back to crouch on the ground, his eyes on your leg. He stared at the clean bandages as if he could see the wound underneath, all his concern conveyed in his eyes.

"I was so pissed you left. I'm not gonna lie, first it was because you took Baby. But the next morning, when I woke up and you weren't there, I knew this time was different. I knew you weren't coming back. And I couldn't live with that. What I said to you." He shook his head. "I hated myself." Looking up, he held your gaze as he went on, "I didn't mean it."

"Then why did you say it?" Your voice was so soft, so quiet.

"Because I was scared. The thought of losing you scares the shit out of me. I wasn't thinking. I just said what I hoped would get you to stop putting yourself in danger."

"We're hunters. We were on a job and I saw an opening. This is what we do."

"I know," he said, surprising you. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it. I worry about you."

"You don't have to. I can take care of myself."

"Clearly." He gestured to your leg, giving you a slight grin to try an ease the tension that was still thick in the air. When you cracked a small smile of your own, he relaxed a little more. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too."

"Does that mean you're coming home?"

"How do we know this isn't going to happen all over again?"

"We don't. But I love you too much to give up on us. I can't lose you."

"I'm not gonna change overnight."

"I'm not asking you to."

Looking into his eyes, seeing nothing but hope, honestly and love in them, you knew this time things were going to be different. You didn't know how you knew, you just did.

During the time you'd been apart you'd both learnt a lot, you'd grown up, there was an appreciation and understanding there that you both had taken advantage of in the past. Thinking you'd lost each other was exactly what you both needed. You'd learnt to be less stubborn, he'd learnt how to control his temper. More importantly, you both realised you were truly loved.

"Okay." Slowly, you nodded. "Let's go home."

A wide smile spread across his face before he was leaning forward, his lips crashing onto yours in a thankful kiss full of love and relief. Falling back onto the bed, his hands finding yours, fingers intertwining, you both melted into each other.

Having spent a week questioning the last few years of your life, your relationship with Dean, and every detail in between, you found all the answers in his kiss. Nothing made more sense than Dean. No one in your life sparked a fire in you like he did. No one had ever cared about you this much. No one understood you like he did. No one could love you so deeply.

All it took were seven days of hell for you to figure it out…

Bamby

[princessmisery666]

Yay 😁 can’t wait to read it 😘

Love me some angst and love me some Sam!! 🥰

Damn, Y’all

I just finished writing a collab for @princessmisery666‘s Sam Winchester Birthday Challenge… ouch, is all I have to say… Should be up on my Patreon later tonight, or tomorrow morning! Just waiting for a couple notes and the aesthetic from @deanwinchesterswitch

Let It All Burn

SPN Fanfic

Characters - Sam; Dean, John, Bobby, and Azazel mentioned

Summary - Sam deals with the aftermath of coming face-to-face with the demon that killed his mother and failing to take it out.

Warnings - Early days Sam angst, y’all remember our angry little, pent up baby… mentions of character death, patricide, and demon deals, car crash

[sis-tafics]

Jill’s Bday Pop Punk Challenge

So It’s My Birthday (February 8th)!

I was debating for a long time on what to do for a challenge theme and I finally decided on my favorite genre of music (which I think is highly underrated), Pop Punk.

I took a little liberty with my favs and if the Artist’s Wikipedia page said they qualify, they are on this list

I’m dead serious when I say every song on this list has sparked a possible story idea, some multiple and I would like to see what you all can do with them while maybe expanding your musical horizons.

Rules:

ANYONE is welcome to join!

Send me an ASK with the prompt you would like (title and number please) and maybe a backup or two in case it is already taken. First sign ups will be until February 16th . After that if there are any left and you would like to double up, we can talk about it :)

If I run out of prompts I can make more

If you don’t see a Song by one of these artists on the list, I can add it

There is NO word limit. All I am asking is if your fic is over 500 words to please use the Keep Reading feature

When you post it tag @sis-tafics and #jill’s bday pop punk challenge

 Your fic can be any SPN character or actor, any pairing, any ship, any genre, whatevs…Just make sure you tag it appropriately for other people

Your fic can be used for another challenge or request. It can be the first part of a new series

The fic can be inspired by any part of the song, whether it be the title, a line of lyrics or the whole fucking thing

The deadline for this challenge is April 1st. If you need an extension, need to backout, whatever it is (real life happens people) please just shoot me an ask. The Masterlist for this will go up soon after.

Any other questions, feel free to ask.

Prompts (Under Cut):

Hallelujah - Panic! At The Disco @potterhead1265

The Good, The Bad and The Dirty - Panic! At The Disco

Uncontainable - Set if Off @hungerforfear

Life Afraid- Set it Off

Diamond Girl - Set it Off

Never Know - Set it Off

Good Girls- 5 Seconds of Summer @carryonmywaywardcaptain

Amnesia - 5 Seconds of Summer

She Looks So Perfect - 5 Seconds of Summer @sis-tafics

Don’t Stop - 5 Seconds of Summer @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son

Long Way Home - 5 Seconds of Summer

Alone Together - Fall Out Boy @gone-to-fight-the-fairies

The Phoenix - Fall Out Boy

Immortals - Fall Out Boy

Bleak December - Set it Off

Ancient History - Set it Off

Something New - Set it Off

Want - Set it Off

Toxic Valentine - All Time Low

Stay Awake - All Time Low@torn-and-frayed

Six Feet Under the Stars - All Time Low

That Girl - All Time Low

Bail Me Out - All Time Low

Backseat Serenade - All Time Low @bringmesomepie56

The Reckless and the Brave - All Time Low

Somewhere in Neverland - All Time Low

If These Sheets Were The States - All Time Low

7 Days - The Summer Set

Fuck You Over - The Summer Set @attractiverandomness

Boomerang - The Summer Set

Lightning in a Bottle - The Summer Set

Thick as Thieves - The Summer Set

Don’t You Go - All Time Low

Heartbeat - Stereo Skyline

Heels Over Head - Boys Like Girls

Kicking and Screaming - All Time Low

Kiss Me Again - We Are The In Crowd

Both Sides of the Story - We Are The In Crowd

Windows in Heaven - We Are The In Crowd @thing-you-do-with-that-thing

Love Drunk - Boys Like Girls

Nine in the Afternoon - Panic! At The Disco @pheonyxstorm

No Control - Set it Off

She’s Kinda Hot - 5 Seconds of Summer @winchestergirl-13

Time Bomb - All Time Low

Weightless - All Time Low

Check Yes, Juliet- We The Kings @amanda-teaches

Dirty Little Secret - All American Rejects @ericaprice2008

Don’t Threaten Me With a Good Time - Panic! At The Disco @dragonchica

Dirty Laundry - All Time Low

Crazy = Genius - Panic! At The Disco

TAGS:

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@extreme-supernatural-lover

@scarlettwinchester23

@pizxagordon

@ryantherandomhero

@dean-knight-of-hell-66

@ilovedean-spn2

@milo-winchester-4ever

@oreosatmidnight

@winchesternco

@fangirlofeverythingme

@moonlessnight14