#spnfandom

[kara-winchest3r]

[archiveofvirtue]

ᝰ.ᐟ BF DEAN WINCHESTER ⸻ nsfw head canons

notes / as promised for u nasties ;) def had a lot if fun creating this!! I just know dean be getting freaky with it.. NSFW, 18+

ʚ EXTREMELY confident in the bedroom. he knows what he’s good at and would waste no time showing u, thriving on knowing that he makes u feel good

ʚ he absolutely loves it when u give him head, ur lips wrapped around his cock while he guides u by your hair, and most of the time he’s so sensitive that he finishes in ur mouth

ʚ dean is hella vocal, not afraid of letting u know what he wants or how good u make him feel. “God, sweetheart you’re taking me so fucking well.”

ʚ he loves teasing you, drawing things out until you're practically begging for more..always a smug little smile on his face

ʚ absolutely down for quickies whenever and wherever, if he’s horny he would waste no time, weather it’s pulling u into the backseat of the impala or even when sam is right next door

ʚ dean is a passionate kisser, his lips always have to be attached to u in some way, preferably ur neck or chest, he just looooves touching u in various ways

ʚ though he is naturally dominant, he enjoys seeing u take control once in a while, turning into such a whimpering mess underneath ur touch. “Shit, please baby, need you to make me cum, please..”

ʚ his favorite position is 100% reverse cowgirl, or generally having u on top, loving the way he gets to admire ur body, especially when he gets to see ur bouncing tits

ʚ NEVER misses and opportunity to mark u up, just for him to see though, a small reminder for u both of how good he made u feel

ʚ he thinks shower sex is definitely underrated, something about the warmth and the water making it even more intense for him, plus he loves washing ur hair after

ʚ GUIDED MASTURBATION. YUP.

ʚ despite his rough exterior he loves the quiet moments after sex, holding u close to him and whispering sweet nothings into ur ear.“You’re beautiful, I’m so fucking lucky.”

*stares*

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated !!

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @angelicjackles @hischrrypie @chevroletdean @deansbite @nuemanfilms @sammyluvr @nxptvn @rubyvhs

[fruitmilkshake]

¡Motel nights and Gas station stops with the Winchesters!

[d0gwithabr0kenleg]

generally, i am a sam girl, but as a GED haver myself who had to drop out of hs, this is very important to me

The amount of times Dean Winchester has to convince Sam and everyone else that he knows how to read. Babygirl you are so much more than a GED and a can do attitude, I’m so sorry everyone makes you feel like this

[em-ontv]

—Real sweet, but I wish you were sober.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x hunter!fem!reader

Summary: One too many drinks led him to confess his feelings for you. You loved him, but you knew it was just words that he didn't mean, right?

Content: angst, unrequited love, drunk confession, alcohol/Dean getting drunk, English is not my first language, sorry if there are mistakes

Word count: 722

You helped Dean back to the motel room, his arm heavy around your shoulders as he stumbled, his steps uncertain. His head lolled to the side, eyes half-closed, but he muttered something about being "fine," even when he felt like a deadweight against you.

His breath was warm against your neck, laced with whiskey. For all the times you had watched him take down monsters without breaking a sweat, he seemed so vulnerable now, trusting you to get him safely to the bed.

You lowered him onto the bed, his hand catching yours, holding it a moment longer than necessary before he let go. His eyes found yours, softer than you had ever seen. You told yourself that it was just the alcohol that had him looking at you like that, like he saw something more than just a hunting partner.

"Y'know..." Dean mumbled, his words slurred and quiet, as if he was speaking to himself. "Sometimes... sometimes I think about things, you know?"

You sat beside him, keeping a slight distance, even though it nearly killed you to. "Yeah?"

His gaze settled on you, and even in his state, it felt almost too intense. "I think about how much easier this would be... if I had someone," he muttered, as though this was something he'd been carrying around for a long time. "Like... someone who's already here."

You kept your silence, hoping that he'd just drop it and let it be, but his brows furrowed, his drunken gaze coming to a startling clarity.

"You… you love me, don't you?" he asked, voice soft and a little unsteady.

Your throat tightened, and you forced yourself to look away, to hide behind a wall of sarcasm like you always did. "You're drunk, Dean. Get some sleep."

But he wouldn't let it go. He reached for your hand again, pulling you closer, his grip unexpectedly strong.

"No," he insisted, voice thick but more sure. "No, I know I'm drunk, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong. I've… I've known it, but I didn't want to see it, didn't want to let myself…" He trailed off. He moved until his face was just inches away from yours, his voice breaking gently. "But I love you too."

You looked away, holding your breath as the words sank in, leaving a raw ache in your chest. You wanted to believe him, wanted so badly for it to be real—you'd imagined this moment so many times, but now that it was here, it felt hollow. Because you knew it was just the whiskey talking.

"Dean," you whispered, pulling your hand back slowly. "You're not gonna remember this tomorrow. Let's just… let's just pretend it didn't happen, okay?"

But he shook his head, his hand went to caress the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek in a way that made your heart ache. "No— no, I'm not pretending," his voice was hoarse, his words barely audible, but each one hit harder than the last.

"I mean it. And I'm sorry I couldn't say it sooner." He pulled your hand close to his chest, his eyes glistening with tears as they met yours, a small, tired smile playing on his lips. "But I do..."

"I love you."

The words fell softly from him, the look in his eyes told you that he was genuine, that he meant it, yet clouded by the whiskey swirling through him. And that was what stung the most. You wanted to tell him that you loved him back, for so, so long, that you wanted to hold him and never let go, but you knew he won't remember any of this in the morning.

"Okay... I know. I know you love me." your breath was shaky, cupping his face in your hands. His eyes looked into yours, and it was as if you were everything to him.

"Go to sleep now, okay? You'll feel better in the morning." you whispered, your voice so quiet it was almost breaking.

He gave you a soft smile, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand before laying back down, resting his head on the pillow. His eyes slipped shut, and he fell asleep.

As you brushed a gentle hand over his hair, you whispered back.

"I love you too, Dean. More than you'll ever know."

[nashon-dean]

haunted by the look in my eyes, I would’ve loved you for a life time

leave it all behind.

- happiness, taylor swift

[nightxcreature]

Operation Meat Man

Summary: Reader, Jack, Sam, and Cas attempt to steal Dean's Thanksgiving pie without getting caught.

Pairing: DeanxReader

Warnings: None other than cursing and slight sexual innuendo, i believe.

A/N: This was just a fun little thing i started this afternoon, that turned into something much longer than i thought it would be. As always, written quickly and edited poorly. Comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated, stealing my work is not.

18+ only

“Sasquatch, come in, Sasquatch. This is Baby Two. Over.” The walkie-talkie crackles as I release the button on its side. Jack glances nervously over at me from his position on the other side of the door, he places a finger to his lips and nods toward the kitchen where we can hear Dean humming the guitar solo to “Black Dog” as he bastes the turkey.

                I huff in frustration and press the button again, “Sasquatch, seriously, come in!”

                “Why do I have to be ‘Sasquatch’?” Sam’s voice grumbles from the speaker, “You couldn’t have picked anything else?”

                I roll my eyes and bring the walkie-talkie to my lips again, “You shot me down when I offered ‘Samantha’ so no, you don’t get another choice.” I release the button again and nod toward the kitchen, where Jack looks quickly and shakes his head, holding up a finger. “Not yet” he mouths. I press the button and speak lowly, “Cutie-Patootie says the coast isn’t clear yet. Where are you and BFBF?”

                The crackle from the radio doesn’t last as long this time and when he speaks the annoyance is clear in his voice, “BFBF? Is that supposed to be Cas? What does that even mean?”

                “My Boyfriends Boyfriend.” I reply quickly, “That’s not the point, where are you?”

                “We’re on the other side of the kitchen. How did you rope me into this?” He mutters, and I see him quickly stick his head around the opposite door before sneaking back behind the frame, “I mean, the pie’s good, but we could wait until dinner.”

                Jack shakes his head furiously from beside me and holds out a hand for the radio. I slide it over to him and keep an eye on Dean as Jack speaks, “No! He’ll eat it all while he cooks, and you know it!” His eyebrows are furrowed as he whispers into the speaker, and I grin a little at the frustrated look on the Nephilim’s face. I give him a high five as he passes the radio back to me, nodding in appreciation. We watch Dean finally turn his back to us and head to put the turkey in the oven, glancing to one another we nod in unison, matching grins on our faces.

                “Alright, alright. Say when, we’re ready.” Sam’s voice crackles through once more and the grin stretching across my face couldn’t grow any bigger.

                I press the button once more and narrow my eyes at Dean’s back, “Operation Distract the Meat Man is a go.” I crouch down beside Jack as Sam and Cas step into the kitchen, Sam sending a nod our way when Dean turns to face them. We both slide into the room and head toward the oven where I can see the pie filled pan on the stovetop.

                Dean quirks a brow at the two men as he wipes his hands on a towel in the apron pocket, “Why are you in here?”

                “We were just…” Sam glances quickly to Cas as he tries to remember the plan, and I take the opportunity to crawl closer to the stovetop, “Uh, we’re just…”

                “Looking for the remote.” Cas blurts out monotonously, “We thought it could possibly be in here. With you.”

                If Dean’s eyebrows could’ve risen any higher, they would be on the ceiling, I scowl as we wait for his response, “Looking for the remote? In the kitchen?” I send Sam a look of frustration over my shoulder, and he shrugs causing Dean to start to turn his head. My eyes widen as I flatten myself to the floor when Sam slings an arm out and knocks over the empty pots beside him.

                “Hey! Watch what you’re doing!” Dean yells, rushing over to grab the pots from where they’ve scattered by the door, “The remote isn’t in here. Now help me get these up and then get out of here.”

                Cas grumbles something about using the remote as a spoon and slowly walks over to help pick up the pots while Sam slides to block Jack and I from view in case Dean were to look our way. Jack nudges my shoe, nodding toward the pie. I nod back, turning to make sure Dean is nowhere in sight. Seeing his back turned again while he places the pots back where they belong, I lunge forward and jump quietly to my feet. The pie is very obviously still warm, apples and cinnamon coming through the top of the perfectly buttered crust. He latticed the crust this time, and not only am I impressed, I’m a little jealous of his work. The crust is flakey and laid gently one of top of the other, butter shining and juices pouring out of the small spaces between them. My mouth waters as I stare at it, reaching a hand out to snatch it, I pass the pan down to Jack quickly.

                Glancing up, I see Dean’s back is still turned, giving me time to reach for the knife he left beside the bag of flour. As my fingers wrap around the handle, I hear his gruff voice from right behind my head, “Drop the knife, Darlin’.” I jump and send the flour falling to the edge of the counter, coating my jeans and Jack’s hair. The white powder rolls down his back as he lunges to the side to save the pie.

                “Shit.” I whisper as I drop the knife and slowly turn sheepishly to face Dean, “If I tell you I was coerced into this operation would you believe me?”

                He laughs, shaking his head and grabbing the pie from Jacks hands, “You were the brains of this operation,” He places the pie back on the counter and chuckles again as he helps Jack to his feet, “Hit the showers, James Bond.”

                Jack shrugs, sending me an apologetic look before making his way out the door with Cas, who looks more than confused at the movie reference.

“You’re not an international spy, Jack.” He mutters quietly as they leave, “You know that right?”

 Sam remains in the same spot as their voices fade down the hall. He’s trying his hardest to hide the smirk on his face and doing a terrible job. I narrow my eyes and glance between the two brothers. My frown deepens as I raise a single finger and point it directly at Sam, “You gave us up! You did that stupid Winchester telepathy shit and sold me out!”

                A shit-eating grin crosses his face, and he bursts into laughter, “It wouldn’t have worked anyway! You know he’s got a sixth sense when it comes to pie.”

                I roll my eyes and flip him off, “Whatever, Samantha. Don’t ever ask me to change your code-name again.”

                He laughs louder as he heads out the door, returning my finger with one of his own, “Alright, Baby Two. I’ll see myself out.”

                I glare at his back as he leaves, my arms crossed and a scowl on my face when Dean slowly turns me around. His own grin is as big as Sam’s as he stares down at me, placing a fork in front of my face. I glance down at the golden crust on the end and feel my eyes light up.

                “If you wanted a bite of my pie, all you had to do was ask.” He mutters arrogantly, “It’s yours anytime you want it.”

                I hum in response before placing the fork in my mouth. The gooey goodness coating my tongue was delicious, all apple, cinnamon, and butter. The perfect combination of sweet and savory. I smile up at him and place a kiss on his cheek, “Thank you.”

                He places the spoon down on the counter and turns slowly back to face me. His hands reach up to cup my jaw and he places a soft kiss to my lips, “Sweet.’ He mumbles against me, “I didn’t do half bad, did I?”

                I giggle and run my hands up his chest, “At least top two of the best pies you’ve ever made.”

                “Top two?” He asks, leaning into to counter and pulling me along with him, “I think I can make that other favorite later tonight, if I have some help.”

                I smile up at him innocently and reach for the rest of the pie he left behind, “I’m a very good sous chef,” I reply with a wink, “Probably the best you’ve ever had.” I push off his chest and head for the door, pie in one hand two forks in the other.

                He laughs loudly and swats my butt as I walk away, “Share that with the kid. I’ve an extra baking anyway.” He yells down the hallway after me, stopping me in my tracks, “Hey! Why’s your code-name ‘Baby Two’?”

                “The O.G.s in the garage, duh.” I reply with a shrug, “I figured you’d know that.”

                The smile that stretches across his face is beautiful as he realizes the significance. I wink and raise the pie, waving at him before turning the corner toward Jack’s room, “Pie! Love you berry much!”

____________________________________________________________

Dean Taglist: @aylacavebear

Taglist of people I tag all the time😂💕: @lmhf1 @whimsyfinny @enigmalynne @envysarchive @k-slla

If you'd like to be added or removed please let me know!

[moonpadalecki]

Found sastiel art in pinterest, enjoy!

[nabooberrie]

[d0gwithabr0kenleg]

a bit of dean, ft. baby!

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 29

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 5946

Warnings: Dean being Dean, navigating being an empath, suggestive thoughts, longing, Fluff, Meeting Pamela (Yes, this is a warning), Bonding (This is something specifically for this AU. I do not see this as a "requirement" to fully connect to someone, but for this story, it is needed).

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 29

Waking up in his arms, wrapped in warmth and safety, was something you’d come to treasure. Dean was still sound asleep, his face softened by whatever peaceful dream he was lost in. His brow was unlined, lips parted slightly, and you couldn’t help but wish he could always look this at ease, free from worry.

With your arm over his waist, you felt the steady rhythm of his breathing, a comforting rise and fall that matched the quiet room. You wondered, not for the first time, what he might be dreaming about. Whatever it was, you hoped he could have dreams like them often if they brought him this sort of peace.

The soft darkness of your room hid the details of his face, but that didn’t matter. The comfort of your bed paled in comparison to the peace you felt lying there with him, feeling for once that nothing could reach you. You knew that today, the two of you were supposed to go meet this psychic, Pamela, and you had your reservations. 

Bobby wouldn’t have suggested seeing her if she couldn’t help, and you knew that. He trusted her, that much you could tell with how he talked about her the day before on the phone with you. Still, a flicker of apprehension settled in your mind—uncertainty about this “psychic” and what she might see in you.

Taking one last, quiet look at the man who was sound asleep and lost in some peaceful dream, you slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb him. Since he’d made coffee the day before, you would do that today. Your wrists still ached, but it wasn’t as bad as the first day. An almost annoying reminder of the ordeal you’d gone through only days ago. 

As you waited for the coffee to brew, and during your first cup, your mind wandered, curious and apprehensive about meeting this Pamela person. Bobby had explained that she was a friend of the family, and even knew the Winchesters but hadn’t seen the boys in years, before Dean graduated. You just weren’t sure how to feel about being around someone who called themselves a psychic. Was she an empath, like you? Did she have premonitions, and that was what she called being psychic? You weren’t sure.

“Someone’s lost in thought,” Dean’s voice, warm and slightly teasing, pulled you back. He leaned in the doorway, his hair still tousled, an easy smile tugging at his lips.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” you asked, meeting his gaze as he came closer.

He shook his head, reaching out to rest his hands on your hips. “Not on purpose,” he murmured, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss against your lips, the kind of kiss that made your heart skip a beat. 

When he pulled away, you looked up at him, feeling slightly puzzled, not understanding what he meant. He loved that confused expression of yours, the way your brows dipped down, your eyes narrowing, just a little, and you always tilted your head, just a bit. God, you’re adorable. You let out a small huff at his thought to you, which only made him smile wider. The warmth of his affection wrapped around you, and you couldn’t be mad at him.

“You’ve got a lot on your mind this morning, huh?” he asked, his tone a little playful but also a little serious. This was the first time your thoughts had pulled him from his dreams, worrying him slightly. 

“Did I actually wake you up?” you asked since he hadn’t answered you.

He nodded, his tone shifting to a gentler seriousness. “Yeah, kinda. Your thoughts… they just sorta pulled me awake.” His words sank in, making you wonder what all he’d heard or felt. Your mouth opened, about to apologize, but you quickly closed it and refused to think the word, which was utterly difficult. Hearing him chuckle at your momentary conundrum brought a pout to your lips. “I feel bad,” you mumbled, looking down and away from his gaze.

Dean’s thumbs rubbed slow, soothing circles on your hips, then brought one hand to your chin, gently tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Don’t,” he began in a soft whisper. “You have nothing to feel bad about. I’m in this with you, even if your thoughts wake me up at two in the morning.” He gave you one more tender kiss before pulling away to get himself some coffee. You knew he was right and it wasn’t like you’d done it intentionally. A sigh of resignation left your lips as you got another cup of coffee, joining him at the kitchen table. Your mind, just like Dean’s, was elsewhere, though.

Pamela had told him he’d find his soulmate, but he’d have to have more patience than he’d ever had in his entire life. At the time, he didn’t understand what she meant. Sitting across from you now, with everything that had happened, he couldn’t help the small smile that played along his lips. Pamela typically wasn’t direct when it came to the premonitions she told people. There were risks with that. She was good, though, and she was never wrong.

“How about I make us some breakfast, then we can head out,” Dean offered, breaking the silence that had settled between the two of you.

Looking up at him, you smiled slightly, then shook your head in mild amusement. “If you want. I also don’t mind just picking something up and eating on the drive.” “Yeah, but this way, I can focus on just driving instead of trying to eat, drive, and sneak glances at you,” he replied playfully, making you smile.

Dean made a simple breakfast for the two of you, which helped soothe the tension your thoughts had brought you earlier. Something about seeing and feeling his emotions when he cooked was different than other times, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on why. The two of you ate in mostly comfortable silence, with only light conversation. Dean knew you needed a distraction, or you would end up in your head again.

As with all the other times, Dean teased you ever so slightly when he helped you dress, but today, he brushed out your hair. It was a pleasant sensation, even if you were only used to having your aunt do that when you were little. Occasionally, his fingers would brush along the skin of your neck, sending goosebumps down your arms. He wasn’t ready to tell you how he knew Pamela, not yet. Plus, he was pretty sure she’d say something when the two of you got there. For now, he was enjoying hearing the thoughts you were desperately trying not to think about due to the light teasing he was doing while braiding your hair. Every time the word ‘tease’ drifted through his mind in that soft whisper, he just chuckled, looking forward to the day you were ready, so he could truly show you what teasing was.

The drive started out quiet, the familiar rumble of the Imapla’s engine and the early morning sun casting long shadows across the road. Dean had his arm draped casually over the wheel, the other between you two, fingers lightly tapping a rhythm against the leather seat. Every so often, he glanced over, a quiet warmth in his gaze. His thoughts whispered through your mind, You’re not alone in this.

After a while, he broke the silence. “Pamela’s place isn’t far. She lives on the outskirts of the town. I guess it has to do with her physic thing, not being able to be around people. It’s kinda cozy, like a mix between a library and a crystal shop.”

You laughed softly at the mental image, trying to imagine someone who could be a psychic and a grounded friend. “So, any other advice for meeting her? What’s she like?” Dean’s lips quirked up. “She’s, uh… well, let’s say she’d got a bit of a mouth on her. Don’t be surprised if she cracks a joke or two about us. But she’s got a good heart, even if she’s blunt as hell.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, already feeling a bit more at ease. Maybe meeting this Pamela person wouldn’t be so bad, after all. Perhaps she really could help, and she sounded like someone you might be able to get along with. At least now, you weren’t nearly as tense as you had been, and Dean was thankful for that.

About an hour or so later, Dean was parking in Pamela’s driveway, and your nerves seemed to be getting to you again. He sighed, feeling your anxiety tighten around his chest as he opened your door. “Breathe. She doesn’t bite.”

“I can’t help it,” you mumbled, leaning against him as he draped his arm over your shoulders and pulled you close.

The two of you walked up the few steps onto the porch, but before Dean could knock, the door swung open. Pamela stood there,  her initial smile shifting to a raised eyebrow, like she’d seen something neither of you two did. “You two haven’t bonded yet?” she asked bluntly, seeing the incomplete connection between you.

Dean just chuckled at Pamela’s bluntness, though he wasn’t entirely sure what she meant with her statement. “Nice to see you too, Pam,” he replied, his tone light.

Pamela gave him a quick, assessing once-over before turning to you. Her sharp eyes sparkled, but behind them, there was a glint of familiarity and warmth, as if she’d known you long before you ever stepped foot on her porch. She’d seen you in several premonitions over the years, even before you were born, but seeing you now, standing there, made it hard to keep her tears away. “You must be the one Bobby told me about,” she said with a soft smile, even though it wasn’t the whole truth.

Taking a calming breath, you nodded. “He said you could help me with the whole empath and premonition thing,” you replied, trying to get your anxiety under control. “But, what did you mean by we haven’t bonded?” Pamela let out playful laughter at your question. She’s still innocent. “Sex, honey. You two haven’t had sex yet.” And with that, she turned on her heel, heading inside, leaving the door open for the two of you to follow.

Your jaw nearly hit the porch at her bluntness while your cheeks turned a bright red in embarrassment. Dean attempted to hide his faint discomfort, clearing his throat before taking your hand. “Sorry. I tried to warn you she was blunt,” he told you apologetically, then left a quick kiss on your cheek before leading you inside.

She was sitting in her living room, relaxing in a recliner opposite a plus-looking couch. Pamela gestured for the two of you to take a seat as she sipped her coffee. “Alright, down to business,” she began, leaning forward and setting down her coffee cup. “I can help you, but until the two of you fully bond, these will only partially work.” 

That blush crept right back into your cheeks, and you glanced away, trying to avoid meeting her gaze. Pamela looked over at Dean, studying him, opening herself up to feel both your emotions. She needed to understand more, the things neither of you were saying, the things her premonitions never included. 

Pamela was able to feel both your current emotions, but she went deeper, like following a thread along a winding path. She had already seen several of the things you’d been through in your life, including the car accident your parents were in. Something else was holding you back; she just had to find it. It was the one thing that always evaded the premonitions she had about you.

Dean gave your hand a gentle squeeze, pulling your gaze to him. I’m right here, Sweetheart. His whispered words in your mind, a quiet warmth settling over your nerves. You scooted closer to him, leaning into his side as he held you close. It’s okay, he thought to you, trying to soothe the wave of emotions rolling through the connection. Goosebumps went down Pamela’s arms as a chill found her spine. You accomplished things you shouldn’t have without bonding with your soulmate. She drew in a shaky breath. “Honey, lemme see your hand,” she asked softly; all playfulness gone now, and it sent a chill through you. You looked over at her, a little puzzled. Pushing past your worry, you hesitantly held out your other hand for her. Pamela moved to sit on her coffee table in front of you, preparing herself for what she knew would come through the contact. She took a slow, deep breath before taking your hand in both of hers. 

As soon as her hands touched yours, an intense wave of emotion crashed over you, her gaze turning distant, almost as if she were seeing something beyond the room. Her eyes shifted, focusing on things only she could see, and her expression grew strained as she glimpsed more pieces of your past, things that her promotions hadn’t included.

The silence stretched as Pamela’s grip tightened slightly. Then, she exhaled slowly, her gaze clearing as she looked back at you with something close to awe. “You’ve been through more than most,” she murmured; her words carried something raw and empathetic. “But there’s something holding you back… keeping you from bonding completely with Dean.”

Dean held you close, his jaw tightening as Pamela continued. Her words had shifted the room’s energy entirely, and he wanted to be sure you were ready for whatever came next. He also felt almost helpless, unable to do more than hold you. That was when Pamela placed one of her hands just above his knee, causing him to jump at the sudden contact.

Pamela’s eyes glossed over, like she had gone into a trance. “Stay in the bunker. Three days past Dean’s birthday, don’t leave. Call Crowley two days before Dean’s birthday. You’ll know what to tell him,” her voice sounded distant, but the words scared the hell out of you. 

The chill in her voice raised the hair on your arms. Your stomach dropped at her cryptic words, the weight of something unseen pressing down. Whatever she’d seen seemed to ripple through her and you wondered if you’d ever reach the ability level she had. However, it also scared the hell out of you.

She saw far more but couldn’t reveal anything else, knowing it could make too many other things permanent. Slowly, Pamela let go of your hand, also withdrawing her hand from Dean. You couldn’t control how your body began to shake the moment she let go. 

“It’ll be okay. Alright?” she told you softly, closing herself off like she had learned how to do so long ago. Your life truly had been one of hardship, a living nightmare that no one should have to go through. But soon, all that would be behind you. She could only give you so much. You would have to do the rest.

“Geeze, Pam,” Dean bit out, holding you tighter as he felt your body shake, and the frustration rising in his voice.”You were supposed to help her, not scare the shit out of her.”

Pamela sighed, returning to her recliner. “Look, I don’t always have control over when I get premonitions, alright? Just… be there for her over the next week and a half. And neither of you are to leave the bunker, for any reason,” it was the only warning she could give them, not wanting to speak what she’d seen out loud. Premonitions were odd in that way. If too much was said, it could solidify what was seen, and never in a good way. She’d seen it happen. It was how she had lost her soulmate, and you were the reason she was still alive. But she couldn’t tell you that either; it would have been too much right now.

The weight of her words had you in a mild state of shock for the moment. It was a lot: the emotions that had flooded through you, the way your memories had flashed quickly through your mind, and then there had been what Pamela had said. Right now, you were just doing your best not to freak out. Pamela knew your nerves were shot; she had felt it before she closed herself off. So, she headed into her kitchen, pouring you almost half a glass of whiskey. Two or three shots wasn’t going to be enough, and it wasn’t like you were driving.

“Here, hon, this’ll help,” she said gently as she held the glass out for you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking the glass, which shook slightly in your grasp. Wrapping both hands around it, you managed to steady the glass, then hissed at the burn in your throat after taking a sip. Dean kept his arm around you, his hand resting on your shoulder, his thumb tracing small, absentminded circles. He didn’t know how to help this time, not with something so far beyond his reach.

For a while, silence filled the room, giving you time to sip the whiskey and settle your nerves. You couldn’t even form a complete thought before another one began, and then the same would happen to that one as another one quickly tried to take its place. Dean did the only thing he could think of, the only thing that felt right, and that was holding you close while also trying to calm his emotions, which felt like a whirlwind.

Halfway through your drink, you finally took a decent breath, even if it was shaky, and looked over at Pamela. You still had questions, but her words had brought more. “Dean mentioned that premonitions don’t work like I think they do. So, how do they work?” 

Pamela knew this question was coming, she’d seen it, as well as others. “Well, like with your first nightmare, it’s sometimes hard to know what the consistent is, the thing that won’t change.” She began, wanting to find just the right way so you could understand. “In your nightmare, you were taken. In real life, you were taken. Nothing else in the nightmare mattered as none of the other stuff happened.” “That’s frustrating,” you mumbled, snuggling closer to Dean before taking another sip of the whiskey.

She watched you for a moment, reading the two of you like a book. “Your fear. It’s what’s holding you back from everything. You’re afraid of losing him. I get it. Fear has literally been the one thing in your life that you can’t seem to get past. I know this is easier said than done, but if you don’t take that leap of faith, fear will ruin your life.” You felt that knot in your stomach as she spoke, knowing she was right. Dean thought he was going to be sick with what flooded through the connection. It was far more intense than other times he’d felt your fear in the past, like someone had opened the floodgates. “Bathroom is down the hall, second door on the right,” Pamela told him, her eyes on you, and Dean bolted down the hallway.

“What happened?” you asked, puzzled as Dean disappeared.

Pamela sighed, knowing she couldn’t just give you everything. “Fear can be a wonderful motivator or a crippling monster. You’ve been living with fear most of your life, so to you, it’s just part of who you are and how you see the world. But, to someone like Dean, what feels like a small knot in your stomach is ten times more intense because he’s lived with hope.” Those goosebumps found your skin and proceeded to dance along every hair slowly. Then, you furrowed your brow in confusion, setting the mostly empty glass on the table. “No. I just haven’t hoped for anything. It’s not the same,” you tried to explain, but all she did was chuckle.

“Kid, fear is what dashes hope. With all the events of your life, your hopes have been crushed, repeatedly. You don’t see it as being afraid, by not hoping for things. But that’s not how it works. I know you’re afraid of going all the way with Dean. I know you’re afraid that you’ll lose him after doing so, and that, in the end, you’ll be more alone than you’ve ever been,” she explained, her tone soft, even if her words twisted at your gut and brought back the anxiety in your chest. “Yes, you accepted him as your soulmate, but that only connects your mind and soul. Once you fully bond with him, things will smooth themselves out. It’s a giving of yourselves that’s intimate, far deeper than just a physical act. Because of the connection the two of you already have, it’s going to be intense when it happens, but in a good way,” Pamela added softly, trying to give that flicker of hope in you a little more of a nudge.

There were a lot of people who had wanted to argue as to how bonding worked, but Pamela knew the truth. She’d been through it once and had chosen to remain single after losing her soulmate, to never bond with anyone again. Changing the way “the system” saw things was always hard, but at least there were some things they had finally begun to truly look at.

You looked down at your hands in your lap. “How do I get over it?” you asked quietly.

Pamela moved to sit next to you, putting her arm over your shoulders and tugging you a little closer. “It’s called a leap of faith for a reason, hon. Stop being afraid of living life to its fullest with a man who would walk through hell to get to you. I know you want to surprise him on his birthday with it. I also know he’d wait forever for you. Stop being afraid.” 

There was something in the softness of her voice, the way she spoke, that calmed you similarly to how Dean’s presence did. Just mentally considering what she was suggesting made your anxiety spike. Pamela just held you like she had been, shielding Dean from an onslaught of emotions she knew he couldn’t handle in his current state.

Normal people felt emotions on a normal level, like those who hadn’t gone through highly traumatic experiences. Even those who had, as long as they weren’t empaths, they still only felt emotions on a normal level. An empath who had a wounded soul felt emotions so profoundly that it was too much for any normal person to understand, let alone feel. Dean was unique, as he had been able to handle your emotions, at least until your true fear had slipped through the connection. On top of that, the fact that the two of you hadn’t fully bonded, had Pamela utterly intrigued.

When Dean finally made his way back out to the living room, he was looking a little green around the gills, and you offered him an apologetic smile. “I’ll be alright, Sweetheart. Just not used to your emotions being that intense,” he told you with a smile just before a burp slipped out, due to his recovering stomach.

“After you two finally have sex, it’ll be easier,” Pamela pipped in, making you blush and Dean grumble a little. Then she turned to you, “Think about what I said, hun.” Her tone was soft, like earlier, soothing your emotions further. She kissed you on the temple before she went over to Dean, leaning close to his ear while you zoned off a little.

“She’s gonna be okay. Both of you are. Just do what I said, and things will turn out like you’ve been hoping for,” she whispered as Dean tried to keep his expression stoic, when inside, he was almost as happy as the day you accepted him as your soulmate.

Dean’s eyes were on you, taking in your slightly slumped posture, your far-off gaze, and all he wanted to do was take away every horrible thing you were going through. “I’m gonna take her home. Thanks, Pam,” he replied gratefully before going over to you.

You jumped a little when he set his hand on your shoulder. “You ready to head home?” Puzzled, you looked up at him. “But, what about how to deal with other people’s emotions?” 

Pamela chuckled as she sat back in her recliner. “It’s fairly easy. Picture a bubble around you. When you want to let other people’s emotions in, imagine the bubble thinning or going away completely. When you want to keep other people’s emotions out, just picture that bubble around you. It’ll take practice, but that’s the easiest one I can give you to start with.”

Well, it sounds simple enough.

“Thanks,” you sighed, glancing down at the last shot of whiskey, debating drinking it. Before you could even ask your next question, she spoke again. “As for the premonition thing. Only time and practice will help you understand what the constant is, the thing that won’t change. Once you find balance, understanding your premonitions will get clearer.”

The entire ride back with Dean was silent, as you were lost in your thoughts, trying to piece it all together. Feeling how you pulled back, like you were closing yourself off, all Dean could do at the moment was give you space. The whiskey had not only settled your nerves but had also seemed to calm your thoughts far more than they had been back at Pamela’s.

You really did have a ton of questions, but none of those felt like they mattered at the moment. Your thoughts were now only on what had happened back at Pamela’s and everything she had said. It wasn’t so much Pamela’s premonition that was on your mind. It was what she had said about taking a leap of faith. You didn’t focus too hard on it, though, as it only triggered your anxiety. 

As Dean pulled into the garage, he stole a quick glance at you, and it felt like you had your walls up again. All he had felt through the connection was that you were there, but your emotions weren’t mixing with his. Back at Pamela’s, it had been your fear that hit him like a punch to the gut, and he was unable to keep breakfast down, and now, there was nothing. He wondered what Pamela had said to you while he’d been in the bathroom, but now something was nagging at him, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to approach you.

When you heard his door open, it pulled your gaze to him, a puzzled look on your face. “Did you need to pick anything up, since we have to stay in the bunker again?”

It was at that moment that your emotions began trickling through the connection again, making him let out a breath of relief. “We’ve got enough to get through, and there’s still plenty of meat in the freezer. I think we’ll be okay,” he replied, giving you a reassuring smile.

You could tell something was bothering him, but you’d ask him about it after getting into the bunker. Still feeling in a bit of a daze over it all, you got out of the Impala while Dean locked up the garage. That awkward silence between the two of you, had Dean debating chewing Bobby out for even suggesting you go see Pamela. 

He silently followed you down the stairs, through the second door, and into the living room. You wrapping your arms around him threw him for a complete loop, but he held you close as your emotions finally began dancing with his again.

“Talk to me, please,” he whispered, unable to truly express what it had felt like when he couldn’t feel your emotions, but you felt all of it from him.

You let the comfort of his embrace sooth everything coursing through your mind and soul. Pamela’s words had shaken you, but they had also clarified things, too. Now, it was just finding the courage to make that leap of faith. For now, though, you focused on the warmth from his body and the tenderness of his embrace.

“Just trying to process everything Pamela said,” you replied quietly, resting your head on his chest as your body finally felt like it was relaxing.

Dean held you just a little closer, fighting the lump of emotion in his throat. “I’m here, if you want to talk about it,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

Giving him a gentle squeeze, you looked up at him, that small yet genuine smile finally finding your lips. “I know. I’ll be okay. It’s just a lot to sort through. Can we watch a movie and cuddle, though? I don’t want to think about it right now,” you asked.

He let out a sigh of relief, letting your presence and gentle emotions soothe the tension that had gripped all his muscles. “Yeah, we can watch a movie,” he replied softly, gently cupping your cheek.

You hummed as you leaned into his touch and closed your eyes, letting all your stresses go. There was plenty of time to face what you knew you needed to. Right now, all you wanted, all you needed was to be tucked comfortably against him while enjoying a movie and his embrace.

“Can I help you get into something comfortable first?” he asked, raising an eyebrow playfully, which matched the smirk that found his lips. You had inadvertently managed to distract him from what he’d been going through, so now, he was going to deliberately distract you.

As a giggle left your lips, he scooped you into his arms, making you squeal in surprise. His laughter brought peace to you as he carried you to your room and gently set you on the edge of the bed. You weren’t ready to go all the way with him tonight, but this time, you let yourself enjoy his teases. It was like exposure therapy, and even though it made you anxious, it also helped you push through the feelings.

Dean raised an eyebrow when you hadn’t told him he was being a tease, debating asking you about it. He could feel your desire, so he knew he’d gotten to you. He just couldn’t understand why you hadn’t said anything. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, his concern slipping through the connection.

“Yes, Dean. I’m okay,” your words came out playful, so Dean relaxed again, but you could still feel something nagging at him. “I’ll tell you what. Tonight, just hold me, and tomorrow, I’ll share what’s been going through my head, I promise.” 

He feigned frustration; the hint of a smile gave him away, pulling laughter from you. That made his smile widen, and he scooped you up into his arms again, spinning you a couple of times. The way your laughter filled the room made his heart soar. You quickly wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and held on. When he stopped, you looked up at him, still giggling a little, and it felt like the moment was frozen in time. The smile on his face made his eyes sparkle as the lines at the edges of his eyes crinkled. Feeling the joy that not only flowed through the connection but also radiated off him made your heart melt.

God, I love you. The thought whispered through his mind, and he just couldn’t help himself, leaning down and capturing your lips in what was intended to be a tender, loving kiss. However, when you reciprocated, and one of your hands cupped his cheek, he had to take a deep inhale through his nose, pulling you ever closer to him. Dean teased your lip with his tongue, desperately wanting to deepen the kiss, and you almost did, but you knew you were ready. Pulling back a little, you looked into his eyes, seeing the desire, the love, and sighed. But before you could answer, he spoke. “I know. I can wait,” he told you gently, resting his forehead against yours.

It was getting harder for him not to progress things, but he would keep his word and wait for you to be ready. With his body tingling, he took you out to the living room, setting you gently on the couch. You worked on catching your breath while he slipped in a movie, adjusting himself before he plopped down next to you. Without warning, he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you against him.

The night was relaxing as you finally found your peace again, without worry. Pamela’s words were still in the back of your mind, but you let them stay there. The two of you slipped easily into your nightly routine, with him cooking and you doing the dishes. He again came up and held you, even teased you a little, but kept it light. Dean mainly had done it to hear your giggle and those cute noises you made when he slipped his thumbs just under your shirt and rubbed gentle circles against your skin.

You had insisted that he pick a movie, but he was quite persistent about you choosing one, as he loved seeing that child-like joy sparkle in your eyes and dance through the connection. So, you picked the movie, the two of you lying down on the couch and cuddling for the length of it. Although, after about forty-five minutes or so, you began falling asleep. 

It had been a long, emotional day, and being wrapped up in his comfort let every ounce of stress dissipate from your body. Feeling your petite frame against him, your muscles no longer tense, and the way your breathing began to even out in a sleepy sort of way allowed Dean’s stresses to slip away as well.

“You want to head to bed early?” he asked sleepily, finding himself just as sleepy as you.

“Sure,” you breathed out, forcing your eyes to open again.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” he grunted as he got off the couch, climbing over you.

For a moment you just laid there, watching as he turned off the movie and began turning off excess lights. You weren’t sure why it brought peace to you, seeing him do mundane things, but you allowed the emotions from those moments to move through the connection, wanting him to feel it, too.

Even though he was exhausted, he went over and tenderly scooped you into his arms, carrying you to bed. He tucked you under the covers on one side of the bed before he slipped out to change and get the last couple lights. You were almost asleep when he crawled into bed, scooting close to you. Snuggling against him, you let out a content sigh.

“Good night, Dean. I love you,” you whispered, eyes already closed and sleep tugging at your conscious mind.

He held you a little tighter, “Good night, Sweetheart,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose against your head, breathing deeply.

The day may have been rocky, but right now, in this moment, with his arms around you, it felt like a distant memory. The stillness of the room, coupled with the steady rhythm of his heart, gently lulled you into a deep sleep. Dean felt your breathing become steady as your body relaxed further in his arms. A small smile found his lips as he closed his eyes, knowing you were sleeping peacefully.

I love you, Sweetheart. I always will.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 30

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[t4tvampireisms]

John And Mary Winchester + S.4.EP.3 [“In The Beginning”] + S.5 EP.13 [“The Song Remains The Same”] Laura M. Robinson, "Sex Matters":  l. m. montgomery, friendship, and sexuality

Inspired by this post taken from @erving-goffman

@lesbianboyfriend @seekdestr0y @bsideheart @tboykrillin @lesbianjudasiscariot @pikslasrce @girlv1rgin @transchesters @winged-cries

[ribbonsncherries]

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒰𝓃𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑔𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝒜𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑔𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝒮𝑒𝒶𝓉˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Student!Dean Winchester AU x student! reader

A/N: I still have a grudge over the person who took my seat this semester, like MOVE. btw with the end, I didn't know how to end this story sooo come up with a better ending in your head I bet it's much better than mine.

Summary: Everyone knows that if someone sits in the same spot for more than a day in class then that is their seat for the rest of the semester. So when Y/N comes to class she finds a surprise, and the competition for the seat begins.

Warnings: Language

Divider Credits:

@anitalenia

@cafekitsune

GIF Credits:

@supernovagifs

REBLOGS AND LIKES ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED

Another day another lecture. Y/N was exhausted from work the night before. So she was late to class, she’d been late before so she quickly got dressed had some cereal, and drove to school. When she came in she saw a guy with darkish blonde hair, little bits of freckles on his face, and the immediate smell of leather from his jacket. Y/N with a smile said, “Hi, excuse me, this is my seat.” She said in the most respectful tone to convince him to move.

Dean faced her and looked up and down at her then turned his head behind him and pointed at the empty seats “Go find another one sweetheart there are no assigned seats here.” He smirked before going back to his notes. Y/N’s mouth was slightly open. She marched back to the row behind him and sat down. Her seat didn’t feel right. Her seat was perfectly in the middle where she could see everything and be able to see no matter how tall a person is. Now this guy who took her spot’s hair is in the way. She grumbled as she took her notes constantly moving her body side to side to see what the professor was writing.

The next day came around and Y/N managed to get her seat in time by being 20 minutes early to class. Ridiculous, she knows that. But this seat is the best in the class and there’s no way she’s giving up without a fight. The lecture hall started filling up with the usual students. But Dean arrived 10 minutes early after Y/N. So when he saw the seat was taken Y/N looked down at the door and smirked. Dean growled in anger and sat down in the row behind her. “Bitch…” he muttered under his breath. Y/N looked behind her “It’s Y/N at least get my name right.” She said before returning to her work.

After the next couple of days, the fight for the chair turned…a little more competitive than it needed to be. Dean was known for his pranks on Sam. So he decided to use his master gift of pranks and use it on Y/N for the glory seat in the lecture hall. So when class ended and everyone left, Dean wrote down that the class was switched over to room 403. So he smirked as he left the class. And at room 403 he wrote a little note for Y/N.

The next day Y/N woke up early and got to class 20 minutes early like usual. When she saw the note on the board she went to room 403 which was a long walk from her regular lecture class. So when she reached the room her face dropped

‘Dumbass -Dean’

Y/N knew his name now. But that was the least of her worries. She ran out of the class and back to her regular lecture hall where she saw Dean smirk at her and wink back at her. She had a mad face and walked to the seat behind him. “Fucking asshole.” She muttered. “Looks stupid in that jacket.” She muttered as she dug her pencil into her notebook causing the led to crack.

One time as Y/N was walking to class she saw Dean was right beside her. They both made eye contact as one walked faster than the other and at that point been almost running. Allison being such a talented actor almost fell to her knees as her arms went to her lower torso. “Ahh!” She muttered like she was in pain. Dean’s smile immediately dropped as he went to her in worry and crouched down. “Hey! Hey, you ok?” He asked helping her up. Allison smiled and immediately ran “idiot!” She yelled as she ran for the seat laughing.

Then after a few weeks, it got…extreme. Both Dean and Y/N set up pillows in front of the lecture hall and covered themselves with blankets. “What time is your alarm?” Y/N asked smugly.

“5:45.” “Well I’ll set mine for 5:40.” She smirked. Dean immediately yelled out “Siri, change the alarm to 5:50!” Y/N looked back in anger. “Siri set the alarm for 6:00!” “Siri, disable Y/N’s phone.” Her mouth was wide open “You can’t do that! Siri self-destruct!” Their feud was like it wasn’t going to end. They kept going at it until Y/N just had enough.

Y/N was late for class and she competed with Dean so much she forgot to wash her jacket. It was so cold outside and in the lecture hall. So she grabbed whatever long sleeve she had left and went to class. She saw Dean at the seat with a smirk. She came up to him “Listen, I’m done. Just take it, it’s yours.” She mumbled while shivering. Dean's smirk faded as his eyes followed her to go to the seat behind him. Which they called the loser seat since whoever didn’t get the chair would sit there behind it. Dean had so many layers on him so he took off his jacket and walked behind her. He dumped his jacket over her shivering body.

She looked behind her and looked at him. “Now you’re the stupid one with the jacket.” He said as he smiled remembering what she said about him those first days. Y/N’s face turned red, she thought he didn’t hear her. “Sorry about that by the way…” she said awkwardly. “Thanks.” She muttered as she adjusted the jacket to fit better. She had to admit she felt much warmer. So when Dean returned to the seat. He couldn’t help but feel upset. Why did he feel bad, he won, and after weeks and weeks of competing for the seat why did he feel worse?

When class was over Y/N returned the jacket to him “Thanks, I was freezing in there.” She said. Dean smiled as he put it back on her. “It’s freezing out here, just make sure not to dirty it, it’s a bitch to have it dry cleaned.” He said as he grabbed his backpack and walked away. Y/N sat there still shocked. She put on his jacket properly. And when she put it on she immediately smelt the genuine leather, wood, and men’s cologne he always wore. Y/N had to admit he was somewhat cute. His emerald eyes and his cute little freckles on his face. It’s almost like she wanted to kiss- wait what the hell was she thinking?

As she began doing her chores at her apartment she kept looking at the leather jacket that was hanging, it annoyed her that she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

As for Dean, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Whenever he talked to Sam it was always about the competitions, every single topic Sam tries to tell, Dean always tries to make some connection to Y/N or the seat competition. “Dude shut up, I get it. You poured water on the seat and got her butt wet. You told me…20 times.” Sam said. Dean’s face dropped “Hey it was funny.” He defended. “Just admit you like her,” Sam told him in a reliving tone.

“I don’t like her.” Dean smiled. “Dude no, she’s a crybaby about a seat.” “So were you!” Dean looked down and agreed to himself he was a crybaby too. “Dude, you talk about her all the damn time.” Dean leaned back on his bed, where he and Sam were talking. “Dude no I don’t.”

“Y/N woke up so early for this, Y/N was hurt so I thought she needed help, Y/N is smart for choosing that seat, Y/N this, Y/N that. Just admit it!” He said hoping to bring his brother to his senses. “Fine, ok I thought she was hot, plus that added spunk in her caught my attention more,” Dean admitted. Sam could only smirk. “See big brother it wasn’t that hard.” He cooed at Dean. “shut up.” he said back. 

Y/N gave up. The perfect seat was gone. She wasn’t a sore loser so she just let him have it. She got his leather jacket he let her borrow then her bag and made her way to class. When she arrived she saw Dean sitting next to the chair they fought for with his bag on the seat like he was saving it.

“Hey, thanks for letting me borrow it, I promise nothing happened to it while I had it,” she said handing Dean back his jacket. Dean smiled and put it back on, he smelled her perfume mixed with his cologne that was lingering on the jacket. “Thanks.” he smiled back as he got back to his notes. Y/N stood there still wondering why the seat was not taken. “Why aren't you sitting in the good spot? Isn’t that why we fought for so long?” she smiled. Dean looked at her and chuckled, “Well, you had it first, my mom taught me better than to steal a lady's seat. So by all means sit.” 

Y/N smiled as Dean took his bag off the chair and placed it on the floor. As she sat down and gathered her things on the desk to begin working, Dean looked at her “Did you have fun at least… know with this thing happening?” Y/N giggled, “I did have to admit some parts were funny, but it was not funny when you stuck gum on the chair. It took me hours to take it all off.” she said. “I'm sorry, but you gotta admit it was funny.” he laughed. This was the first time he noticed her. He notices her hair, her eyes, her clothes, the little keychains on her backpack, and the colors on the highlighters she has. “I’m Dean, Dean Winchester,” he said with his hand out for a handshake. Y/N smiled as she took her hand in his, “Y/N L/N.” “Well Y/N I officially call a truce,” he said. Gripping even harder on her hand. “And I officially call an agreement.” she smiled. 

“Do you wanna go to lunch after class? There's this diner and trust me every seat is good.” Dean asked her smiling. Y/N’s face grew pink and she nodded her head. “Sure.” she agreed. Who knew a guy Y/N grew to dislike became someone she could tolerate and maybe even like at this school. And it was all because of a chair.

[devilman-things]

started crying at the season 1 carry on my wayward son recap

[nerdwholikesnerdythings]

Is it just me or do you guys ever go to one of your unfinished fanfic drafts/wips, read them, and then get upset you left yourself on a cliff hanger?