#supernatual fanfic

[solitary-reading]

New art created for my Destiel fanfic, In The Eyes of The Confessor. I'm actually really happy with how these turned out.

I've just uploaded chapter 13 of the fic over on Ao3 (and wattpad) - please feel free to go and check it out!

Fic summary:

Cas pushed open the door to Dean’s bedroom and they stepped inside. He moved into the centre of the room, turning around to look back at Dean. “I forgot to buy you a birthday present.” He said, his eyes twinkling with something that Dean had never seen before. Dean shrugged his shoulders, moving so close to Cas that he could smell the alcohol on his breath. “I don’t suppose…” Cas tilted his head to the side a little as he spoke, his voice silky and smooth. “That I could do anything to make it up to you?” A smirk tickled at Dean’s mouth as he looked down into Cas’ eyes. “I’m sure I can think of something.” Dean whispered, closing the gap between them.

It all happened so fast. It wasn’t supposed to happen, they were drunk, they were alone, and they were stupid. But nevertheless, it happened.

And now, 7 years later, after having run away from everything he’d known, Dean finds himself back at the same place everything happened… back at the holiday cabins. Except… seeing Cas again isn’t the only thing Dean has to worry about. Something is off with the cabin. He can’t put his finger on it, but he sure as hell wants to find out.

[gonna-need-you-to-not]

I love that I've written fics. I hope my muse wakes up again one day and lets me write more.

It's so cool to think that people I don't know, possibly on the other side of the world, read my story - maybe late at night in bed, maybe on the train, or in their lunch hour - and they liked it so much that they left me a little message 🤗 What a privilege to connect with people through art.

It's things like this that make me so glad for this funny little website and that silly little show and our runaway imaginations 😍

[supernaturalkickparty]

Sam Week has begun!!!!! Day one is - (April 26th): Fusions: your culture, field of study, science, space, favourite music/books, interest, etc, & Sam Winchester

So I've always envisioned a latino supernatural. I've posted about it a few times and about samjess in this au.

This fic is a one shot, it was a labor of love and I'm very happy that I got a chance to write this.

Esta Es Mi Vida

Playlist

Hope y'all enjoy this🖤

[winchesterszvonecek]

Librarian - [ Sam Winchester ]

Summary: You and Sam finally introduce yourselves to one another after he’s been frequenting your library for weeks

Word Count: 1392

Warnings: reader insert - [ was written with a female reader in mind but there is no mention of pronouns/description so it can really be read by any reader ], fluff

Masterlist | Sam Masterlist

You always loved working in the library. You loved the peaceful atmosphere, the smell of new books mixed with that of the old ones. You loved seeing which books people checked out and getting to hear their thoughts about those they’d returned. You loved recommending your own favourites to people and you always got so excited when they returned them with a smile on their face as that usually meant they enjoyed it, something you couldn’t help but puff up with pride over.

But most of all you enjoyed it because you got to see him. That tall, handsome, broad shouldered, brunette guy who’d often come in and sit alone in the corner, flicking through rather old and fragile looking books. You never could quite see just what he was reading but you knew it had to be interesting as he barely ever looked up from the browning pages beneath him.

You didn’t know his name. You’d never spoken to him, never so much as even seen him look back at you, but there was just something about him that you couldn’t quite shake. You knew it from the first day you saw him, and from the next day when you arrived at work dressed a little nicer than you usually did as you secretly wanted to impress him. Wanted him to notice you. But like every other day, this mysterious man never so much as uttered a word. He just sat in his usual spot, flicking away through enough books to start his own library.

It was the same almost every day, until today.

You’d been waiting for him to show up, your chin resting on your hand as you anxiously tapped your nails against the desk. He always arrived at the same time everyday but today he was a little later, something that intrigued you as he struck you as the type of guy with a routine. You were almost about to give up, to go back to sorting the newest additions to your tiny library when the door opened, the bell above it jingling softly as it did.

You didn’t know whether the shiver you felt was from the draught of the mid-autumn air that seeped in or whether it was from the sight of him walking in, but whatever it was, you didn’t care. He was here, only this time… He wasn’t alone.

“Why am I here, Sam?” His friend asked, peeved, as he gestured around him. After all this time you’d seen him, you’d never once heard his name. Sam. He looked like a Sam.

“Because, Dean…” Sam replied gruffly, grabbing Dean by the arm and dragging him towards his usual table that was tucked away in the corner. You couldn’t help the feeling you got over his voice. His deep, smooth voice that you could listen to for hours if he’d let you. “I’m sick of doing research by myself.”

“What are you talking about? You love research.” Dean protested, shaking his arm from Sam’s hold as you raised your eyebrow at his words. Research? You couldn’t help but wonder what kind of research he could be doing, especially when you’d taken a little peek at the books he’d returned yesterday and noticed they were all related to the supernatural.

You straightened, subtly fixing your hair as you began to busy yourself, stealing looks towards the two men in the corner of the room. The men you couldn’t help but think were brothers now, given the way they kept bickering towards one another, something that you couldn’t help but chuckle quietly over as you scanned new books into the system.

You were so deep into your own thoughts, one’s that may or may not have involved Sam, that you hadn’t even heard him approach the desk, not until you turned around and spotted him, his sudden presence making you jump in your skin.

“Sorry. I, uh, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Sam chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head as you lowered your hand from your chest, where it had landed after he’d almost scared you half to death.

“No, no. It’s… It’s okay.” You breathed out, setting aside the book in your other hand as you gathered yourself. You couldn’t help but blush a little, the tips of your ears redder than the shirt that covered Sam’s chest. “Can I- Can I help you with something?” You asked, praying you didn’t seem as nervous as you felt.

“Yeah, actually…” He began, clearing his throat as his eyes shifted around him before they landed back on yours, sending a flutter throughout your stomach. “I was wondering, and this is gonna sound a little… out there, I guess, but uh, do you have any books on necromancy?”

“Necromancy?” You repeated, his request making you forget the nervousness you felt around him as you eyebrow raised, before it fell into a furrow as you couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja-vu. You moved closer, leaning your palms on the table before you asked. “You wouldn’t happen to know Bobby Singer would you?”

“Uh, how did you, uh, how did you know?” Sam asked, feeling as flustered as you might have felt had he not asked you for such a request.

“He used to come in here a lot, asking for all sorts of books on the supernatural world… Not to mention the half dozen different bible versions he would ask me for.” You said with a chuckle, hearing the rather nervous one leave Sam’s lips as nothing more than a breath. “Anyway, I uh, I should have what you’re looking for, somewhere that is… Follow me.”

You cocked your head in the general direction of the supernatural section, one that had grown exponentially after youl first met Bobby, as he always seemed to tell you that you needed to upgrade your collection, something you were glad for otherwise you’d have had to disappoint Sam.

The two of you walked in silence towards the back of the library, where you soon began scanning the shelf before your eyes landed on a specific old leather-bound book that sat amongst the other, you guessed it, old books. You pulled it out, being mindful of its weight and delicacy before you blew off a thin layer of dust and held it out towards Sam.

“Sorry about the dust… This section doesn’t see many guests other than you and well, Bobby… Although I haven’t seen him in a while.” You said with a touch of curiosity.

“Yeah, he uh, he usually just sends me now.” Sam chuckled, taking the book from you with a smile. “Says it saves him the trip.”

“I see.” You nodded, your smile wide enough to send a flutter through Sam’s chest. You folded your arms, glancing down at the ground before back up at him, your face heating terribly under his soft gaze. “Well, I’ll leave you to it but just let me know if there’s anything else you need… You know, books on witchcraft or whatever other weird and wonderful things you guys seem to like.”

Your words made Sam laugh softly, something that had your stomach tie itself together, in a good way obviously, but you just prayed it wasn’t showing on your face.

“Thanks, uh…” Sam began, his brows knitting together a little, forming a line between them. “You know, I’ve been coming here for a while now and I don’t even know your name.”

“Oh.” You seemed a little surprised that he seemed interested in learning your name, as like he said, he’d been coming here for a while now and had never asked. But when you heard him repeat your name, in a way you very much liked as it rolled off his tongue so velvety smooth that it sent a chill up your spine, you couldn’t help but wish you’d gathered up the courage to talk to him sooner.

“That’s a pretty name.” He said with what almost seemed like a flirtatious tone, one that would have had you on the floor had it been any stronger. He smiled once more before he turned on the spot and began to walk away, which made your stomach drop out of disappointment until he stopped and glanced back over his shoulder towards you. “My name’s Sam by the way… Sam Winchester.”

Like this? Apply to my Sam tag list here!

tagging: @sancochillo

Like my work? Consider buying me a coffee!

[miss-madness67]

Advent Calendar 2022: DAY 2 (Dean)

Christmases with the love of your life, Dean Winchester.

Hop in for 25 days of Christmas and fluff.

Day 1

Throughout the next year, you see Dean fairly often, given the amount of time you spend with your uncle because of your family’s situation. You don’t become friends immediately, you start off dancing around each other; being nice but not actually attempting to spend time together. The situation you’re both in is what pushes you to be more. His father drops him and Sam off every hunt that he deems too dangerous. You knew this used to occur even before you were around Bobby, but you weren’t aware it happened that frequently.

When you ask your uncle about it, his cryptic response doesn’t tell you much: “John does his best to keep the boys safe.” But even then, you see the hesitation in his eyes. So, you continue to run into Dean occasionally, sometimes you help him take care of Sam, and he appreciates it. Steadily, your trust starts to grow, yet it isn’t until one particular night that you realize the true extent of your bond.

The snow covering the ground crunches beneath someone’s steps. The blizzard stopped a few hours ago, it’s so cold outside that you can’t stop the shivers, yet you refuse to go back inside the house. There’s too much going on inside your head for you to properly focus on the festivities. The Winchesters are back again this Christmas, and while you’re glad you’re not alone with Bobby in the uncomfortable silences that have been happening recently, you’re not in the mood to drink punch and laugh. One look at John and his children makes you realize what you don’t have.

“What are you doing here? It’s freezing,” Dean’s voice doesn’t surprise you. You knew he was bound to follow.

“I’m just thinking,” you murmur as he sits beside you.

He hums, “about what?” And for the first time since your family became a mess, you decide to confide in someone.

Day 3

Let me know if you want to be tagged.

Tags: @sweetwerewolfqueen @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @perpetualabsurdity @deanswaywardgirl @seppys-return-to-madness @desimarie12 @hobby27 @mrspeacem1nusone

[waynes-multiverse]

Plastic Hearts – Part 11

Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.

Chapter Warnings: +18, angst, crack, implied smut, unwanted pregnancy & mentions of abortion, fluff, a break-up, one-sided pining by an idiot

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Here we go... 🤓🍿 By the way, for the assholes who are planning to send me some lecturing ask about this, here’s a lesson for you: I. NEVER. LEARN. Chances are you’re only gonna make it worse, so... Enjoy the drama, babes! 🖤

<< 10 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

11. Glory Days

Sometimes it only takes one little mistake, one drunken decision, to completely ruin your life.

In Y/N’s case, that mistake definitely was sleeping with her best friend’s husband. She paid direly for that error of judgment. And still, the punishment doesn’t seem to be over. Life just loves to screw her.

Oh God, no pun intended…

Groaning loudly, she lets her head fall into her palms as she sits on the cool edge of the dirty bathtub in a motel she calls her home these days and ponders where it all went wrong. Why does it never seem to stop?

“Y/N?”

The young actress startles as she hears the director burst into her room and call for her. Two nights ago, they camped out together by the pool, and it was nice. She’s caught another glimpse of the real Dean, the one that’s hiding underneath all the cynicism and white powder. And she can’t lie – she really likes that guy. That Dean is incredibly smart, quick-witted, and, most surprising of all, kind.

And maybe in another world, another life, Y/N could see something more than a collegial friendship with him. However, she clearly seems to be stuck in the wrong universe.

The bathroom doorknob rattles before being met with resistance, causing her to frown as the director’s voice chimes outside, “Hey, why is it locked?”

“Dean! I’m-… I’m busy here, okay? Why would you just barge into a bathroom that isn’t yours?!”

“Busy, huh?” Y/N can hear his smirk even through the door, her frown only deepening. “Doing some self-love in there, sweetheart? Want some help?”

“No, I’m-… I’m not feeling well,” she splutters and lets a sigh past her lips.

“Oh, uh… you want me to get you something? I can run to the pharmacy,” he offers, and admittedly, it’s the sweetest thing he’s done so far. So sweet, in fact, it cracks her heart a little when she has to push him away.

“No, I’m good. Thanks… Can you-, uhm… can you just leave me alone for a little while, please?” Y/N presses lips and eyes tightly together during the beat of silence, forcing herself not to sob like a baby and make a fucking noise. He won’t leave if she does.

“Yeah, uhm… sure.” He doesn’t have to say a lot for Y/N to know he feels defeated. “Just… I’ll be in my room if you need anything, alright?”

“Okay, thanks, Dean.”

And once she hears his footsteps fade into the distance and the motel room door close again, she releases the sobs she’s been holding in.

Life in paradise was good for a little while. After their cozily intimate sleepover by the pool, everything was perfectly fine and better than ever between the director and the actress – new heights. Then, forty-eight hours later, according to Dean’s clock, Y/N inexplicably withdrew herself. The last two nights, she declined to hang out with him because she wasn’t feeling well. Aside from that, she talks less, she’s quieter and less vivid than usual, and she sticks mostly to herself, even around the other girls.

He may be reading too much into the situation, and she might just really feel under the weather. Women do get moody sometimes, so maybe it’s just that and nothing personal against him. Dean’s noticed mood swings with the other women before as well. So far, he has identified two cycles of the moon and avoids each cluster of pack sisters accordingly whenever the time comes. Still, he wants to make sure he hasn’t accidentally upset Strindberg with his attitude again, so he planned a little bonding trip for them today to get to the bottom of this issue.

It’s sleuthing time.

So, in the early morning hours, Y/N’s knuckles tap on his door as she peeks her pretty head inside his office. “You wanted to see me, boss?”

“Yeah, uh, you wanna go see a venue with me? Cas is MIA, and I could use a second opinion,” Dean explains, offering her an inviting smile. “Pilot’s just around the corner.”

“Sure,” she beams excitedly. “I’d be honored to have a say in the decision-making process.”

“Oh, you’re not gonna have a say, sweetheart. I just need someone to disagree with, so I can clarify my own instincts,” Dean quips and eagerly grabs his leather jacket from the chair, joining her by the door with a cheery smile. A work excuse was the best option to get her to agree to spend time with him. She never says no to more work.

“Oh, uh, of course, boss,” Y/N nods, ever the pleaser. “I’d be happy to do that, too.”

Dean stops inches in front of her and wets his plump lips, a daring smirk shaping into form as he leans closer and pins her in the doorframe, her small body caged in by his strong arms. “What else would you do for me, huh, sweetheart?”

The director’s flirting has become more brazen recently, loving how he always makes her squirm. God, all he wants to do is fuck her, please her, and praise her.

Shit. Maybe that’s why she’s been avoiding him. Dean was under the assumption she’s grown accustomed to his flirtatious nature at this point in their friendship and knows it’s only fun and games, but perhaps he was wrong.

However, Y/N’s easy reply only leaves more question marks behind in his mind. She smirks teasingly and pats his chest, “I’d give you CPR if you overdose. C’mon, tiger, let’s go location scouting!”

“We had a booking cancel at the last minute – Styx. But you didn’t hear it from me,” the vixen event manager in a short skirt and a lot of cleavage gossips with a wink as the pair tours the grand theater Downtown.

“Whoa,” Y/N gasps as her mesmerized eyes roam the theatrical decor of the giant hall, sparkling gold and velvet purple adorning its walls, carved with beautiful and extensive ornaments.

“Good, right? Used to be a porno theater,” Dean adds with a sly grin.

“Well, it must’ve been the golden age of whacking off,” Y/N giggles. “Was it Aztec porn?”

“Mayan, actually,” the event vixen tells her. “This used to be part of the Mayan Revival movement of the 20s.”

“Huh. Did it involve blood sacrifice?” Y/N quips and barely holds in her snort as the vixen shoots her a glare.

“Your girlfriend is quite the comedian,” the woman grits and aims her death stare at him now.

“Oh, I’m not his girlfriend,” Y/N throws in quickly. Too quick. She could hesitate a little, you know? Do the awkward dance with him of who gets to say it, but instead, she even sends him a wink like she’s his fucking wing woman, trying to score him a date with the vixen. No thanks. Why does she never understand that he wants to spend time with her and her alone?

The woman then informs them about the price and excuses herself with great relief, leaving the pair to look around on their own.

“I mean, the place looked great in Indiana Jones,” Y/N notes jokingly.

“What’s the matter with you? You’re here as a benign sounding board,” Dean grunts, feeling strangely attacked. He knows he’s only overreacting because he still doesn’t know what’s wrong with her. He doesn’t like being ignored, and it’s clearly messing with his brain chemistry. “You’re not the director. You don’t have my vision.”

“Fine, calm down.” Y/N only rolls her eyes in amusement over his defensive grumpiness. She knows him too well already, and it doesn’t help to erase the twinge in his heart. “What are you picturing? Tell me about your vision.”

“Well, alright.” Enthusiastically, Dean steps into the center of the huge theater and rubs his palms together, explaining his next vision of pure genius, “So, we’re gonna put the ring right in the middle, get rid of that stage, and change out those shitty ropes we have and make ‘em pink.”

His grin is only getting wider the more he talks about it, close to giddily jumping on the spot. The director is in his element, and it only helps that his muse intently hangs on every word that leaves his lips, an impressed smile and admiring gaze following his movements.

“Now, there’s gonna be people up there-,” he thumbs over his shoulder to the gallery, “-so we’re gonna put a stationary camera up here, maybe add a camera on a jib, moving around... But I’ll leave enough room around the sides of the ring, so I can get in with the handheld, and the audience can feel the struggle, the drama, the victory, the defeat… I mean, this could either feel dinky or it could feel epic, so let’s go big. Let’s make it visceral, let’s make it like a-... a fucking rock show!”

“Dean, this is amazing,” Y/N beams a bright, thousand-watt smile, and his heart is close to detonating when she looks at him like he’s a goddamn genius. The massive effects her tiny bit of admiration and praise can have on his dick are astounding. “This is perfect!”

“Told ya,” Dean winks cockily, but his ears and cheeks are blushing scarlet red, feeling the eagerness of the butterflies rushing through his stomach and conquering his heart. They’re downright somersaulting in there. “Hey, uh, I was thinking since we’re already on the road, why not make a day out of it? Let’s grab some greasy lunch, maybe drive to the pier, see a movie…”

“Dean, I-, uh, I can’t,” Y/N tells him with a remorseful look and chews her lip almost bloody.

Jesus fucking Christ, that woman really knows how to crush a man’s soul. She’s a true heartbreaker, which means she’s completely unaware of her evil spell. They’re the worst kind.

“C’mon, why not? We’re friends, right? You said you liked our friendship,” he reminds her with a playful smile.

His boyish charm coaxes a small giggle out of her, but the reluctance remains, “I do, but–”

“Then, let’s hang out together! I promise it’s not weird. I’m your boss, so I should know, alright?” How did he instantly make this weird again? She’s not supposed to think of him as her goddamn employer. Why the hell does he keep mentioning it? Well, aside from the kinky little fantasy he has buried in the back of his brain… On second thought, that’s probably exactly why he mentioned it. Never mind.

“It’s not that. It’s not about you. I’m just not feeling my best this week, okay? We can do something next week,” Y/N explains, her look pleading with him to just accept her flimsy answer, but he can’t. He’s stubborn like that. “I was actually hoping you could give me tomorrow off?”

“What, why? You can’t just have the day off,” he snaps with a stern brow. Why is she trying to avoid him? What, now she doesn’t even wanna come to the gym anymore? She loves that filthy place, and she never has anything better to do. That woman breathes nothing but work. “Look, I know I said we’re friends, but I can’t just make exceptions for you.”

“It’s something personal I have to deal with, okay? I’m ahead of everyone else, anyway,” Y/N argues with a hint of desperation in her voice.

“Yeah, and I’m gonna make sure you stay ahead because I’m the fucking director,” Dean barks and scratches the nape of his neck, the crazy thoughts itching his snowed brain. “Is this about me? It is, isn’t it? Look, if you don’t wanna be friends and hang out with me, just fucking say so. Don’t give me some bullshit excuse. I’m a grown man. I can handle rejection, okay? What, you think I’m gonna fire you like some pathetic child?”

“Dean, what? No–”

“Is this because I said I liked you?” he continues his spiral of conspiracy theories, not paying attention to her in the slightest as he starts to pace the theater floor, arms wildly gesturing. “I’m sorry, okay? I think our wires just got crossed… I didn’t mean it like that. I meant I like you as a person, alright? I’m not trying to fuck you or weasel my way into your goddamn pants, sweetheart.”

Oh boy, that’s a lie if he ever heard one. It’s all he does, day and night, but he has a reason for it, you know? And it’s not just plain horniness. He actually likes her personality, which is rare. He usually hates most people, but he supposes hate always comes easier than love.  

“I know that. It’s not–”

“So, this is about the kiss again? I thought we already talked about that shit and were good,” he huffs and shakes his head, feeling at the end of his wits. What else could it be?

“We are,” she reassures him through gritted teeth. Why is she suddenly so angry?

“Then what the hell is going on with you, huh? Why the fuck are you ignoring me and don’t wanna eat lunch with me? It’s just goddamn lunch, Y/N! You always act like I’m such an unbearable monster. I mean, yeah, sometimes I’m a little inappropriate… But still, I’m a pleasant person to be around, okay?! I’m adorable! There’s a lot of people, women specifically, who love spending time with me–”

“OH MY GOD! WOULD YOU SHUT UP?! I’M PREGNANT!”

As the remnants of her sentence echo through the deathly silent theater, his throat closes and cuts off all air supply to his lungs. He gapes at her like a fucking idiot, close to hyperventilating, while Y/N waits patiently for his shock to subside. His heart isn’t racing, though. It’s a steady, strong beat that ticks like a time bomb in his ribcage, the countdown ringing in his ears.

And then, his mind does something incredible. It begins to think about offering to raise the kid with her, conjuring up a perfect, suburban life with a white picket fence. Y/N has zero dollars in her bank account, while Dean owns a small home in Burbank. It’s big enough for three, and he’s certain her bestie’s husband is not going to volunteer for that job. All of a sudden, there’s a warmth spreading in his gut and climbing to his frozen heart, growing and festering around his beating muscle like poison ivy. His right knee also gets the weird urge to bend down.  

“Oh, uhm…,” Dean stumps, which is probably better than proposing on the spot.

“You don’t have to say anythi–”

“Is it mine?”

“Especially that,” Y/N finishes her sentence, mouth agape, her eyebrows drawing together and meeting in the middle – the only possible reaction to a moronic question. “Dean, how-… how could it be yours? We never even… You know that, right?”

Dean runs a palm over his freckled face, barely believing his own stupidity, and squeezes his eyes shut with a pinch of his nose, nodding, “Yeah, yeah, I know… I was just-… never mind.”

As if he needed a damn reminder that he never had sex with her.

“I mean, your kiss was good, but I don’t think you can get women pregnant from it,” she jokes lightheartedly. “Although, as cocky as you are, I can see how you would believe that.”

Dean places his hands on his hips, swaying back and forth on his heels. His mind races, repeating her words over and over. His lips purse before a nervous smile appears, “So… the kiss was good?”

Y/N’s look darkens to an irritated scowl, “Read the room, dude!”

“Right, yeah,” he swallows hard and scratches the scruff on his throat. “So, uhm, the married guy got a shot in?”

Don’t blame him. His social skills end with small talk about the weather. He’s not emotionally equipped for these kinds of conversations.

Folding her arms over her chest, Y/N clicks her tongue and bites the insides of her cheeks in discomfort. “I don’t know. Probably.”

His brow furrows, “Probably?!”

“I-….” She flails her arms helplessly, her pupils wide and gleaming with desperation. “There were two others I was seeing. They all sorta… There was some overlap, okay?”

“Look at you being so slutty,” Dean teases her, broadly smirking. He’s trying to keep the situation light, even though he admittedly feels the jealousy bubbling in his chest. While knowing it’s wrong and misplaced, he can’t help but wish he would’ve gotten a chance with her instead of those three losers. They didn’t even appreciate what treasure, what fucked-up little angel, they held in their filthy palms, or else they’d be here and not him.

“Well, thank you for that,” Y/N mutters with an offended scowl, bitterly tightening the grip of her arms over her chest.

“Wha-… I didn’t mean… I-I was just making a joke, okay? As if I would ever judge you,” Dean frowns. He’s the sluttiest of them all! “Three is nothing. Three is like my weekly ratio.” Nope, that sounds worse. “I mean, it used to be, you know? When I was your age…”

Shut up, shut up, shut up…

Y/N only lets out a long sigh in response, shaking her head at his idiocy before finding his eyes. She prompts, “Ever knocked someone up?”

“Uhm, I-, uh, I’m-,” he splutters and clears his throat a few times, trying to cough up the lump. “Uh, not that I know of, no? I mean, no one ever told me, so… Kinda have that advantage, you know?”

Y/N blows a raspberry, her head in one constant shake at this point. “I really hate your gender,” she tells him then and sounds more defeated than angry.

“Yeah… Yeah, I get that,” Dean admits and rubs his mouth. “So, uh, what are you gonna d–”

“It’s not a big deal, okay? So, let’s not make it one, alright?” Y/N announces.

His head tilts in confusion like a lost puppy’s. “It’s not?”

Y/N hesitates and swallows with a harsh intake of air, eyes stubbornly focusing on her sneakers. “No, it’s not,” she confirms and insecurely meets his gaze. “I-, uhm, I have an appointment tomorrow at ten, so…”

“Oh.”

Honestly, Dean feels nothing but relief, and it’s not because it’s someone else’s goddamn kid. He doesn’t give a shit about that; he would’ve raised that fucker like his own. But he knows the possibility of Y/N quitting the show and disappearing from his life forever is more likely than her playing house with him. The latter was just wishful thinking on his part. The reality is: The show would fall apart without her, and so would he.

“Please don’t try and talk me out of it,” she begs him, a pouty look adorning her features as she roughly bites her lips.

“No, of course not,” Dean quickly assures her and sees her exhale a breath of relief. “I’m fully supporting your choice here, you know? I mean, if I were you, I would’ve already, you know… like yesterday…” God, he really needs to stop blabbering and shut his cakehole. “And you should take the day off tomorrow. No problem. You know what? Take the whole week. You’re perfect, anyways. You’ve trained enough, sweetheart.”

“I don’t think I need a whole week,” she says with a smile of amusement. Yeah, Dean would laugh at himself as well if he were her.

“Well, if you want the week, you can have it, okay?” Dean offers her nonetheless. “Ten, right? I’ll drive you. Gonna knock on your door at nine sharp.”

“You don’t have to–”

“No, no, I want to,” he swiftly brushes her concerns away. “You shouldn’t be alone for this, alright? I-… I don’t want you to be alone.”

A grateful smile shapes on her pink lips upon his proposal. It’s cute. “Thank you… Can you just, uhm, not tell anyone? Keep this between us? I haven’t told any of the girls. I don’t want it to get back to, uhm… Jo,” she explains, swallowing nervously.

“Yes, absolutely, sweetheart,” Dean assures her with a firm nod and offers her a warm smile, “This stays right here between us. Just you and me.”

The words inappropriately make his heart flutter – you and me. God, he’s a mess.

“Thank you,” Y/N says, smiling gratefully. She then wraps her arms around his torso and buries her head in his chest, squeezing the oxygen right out of his lungs.

Dear God, his entire body goes rigid. What is this? Is she hugging him? This is a hug, right? What is he supposed to do? Aside from not getting a goddamn boner, of course.

When was the last time he ever genuinely hugged someone? He honestly can’t remember. She’s so warm, and her frame is so small and fits perfectly into his like a matching puzzle piece. Can he hug her back?

He supposes he can and greedily slings his arms around her, one hugging her shoulders and the other hand cupping the back of her head. Then, he even goes one step further and rests his chin on her crown, her lemon coconut shampoo filling his nostrils.

Fuck, this feels fantastic. Can he hug her now all the time? Is this a new development in their friendship? God, he hopes the answer is yes.

“Dean, I-I think you can let go,” she giggles and winds herself out of his embrace.

Oh, he so doesn’t want to but fine. He also doesn’t want to make it weird and risk never receiving these glorious hugs from her again.

“So, uhm, I’ll be here tomorrow at nine, waiting for you, okay?” Dean reassures her for what feels like the millionth time as he slowly kills the engine in the motel parking lot. He’s stalling, doesn’t want her to go just yet.

Y/N smiles softly, “Okay. Thanks, Dean.”

“Dean!” Their heads turn out the windshield, watching Bela rush to the Impala and vividly wave her hands in the air.

Dean sighs deeply and falls back into his seat, wanting to disappear under the floor mat. “Shit… I’m-, I’m gonna break up with her. I’m gonna do it now,” he announces determinedly. If Y/N can master the hardships of life with her head held high, he supposes so can he.

“Uhm, I don’t wanna be here for that, so I’m gonna go, but, uh… good luck. Be nice,” Y/N says and then quickly flees the car, just in time before Bela slides into the passenger’s seat like a game of tag between the women.

Dread immediately spreads through his whole body. He’d rather spend the day with Y/N. They could be at the pier right this minute, waiting for the sunset, waiting for his lips to find hers in the golden glow. Instead, he has to be here and talk to the girlfriend he never wanted. What a waste of a beautiful day. All because that fucking wimp husband couldn’t wear a fucking condom…

It only takes one asshole to ruin the playground for everyone else.

“Dean, we need to talk,” Bela starts with a stern look on her face, all puckered lips and crinkled brow. Oh, how he loves that particular sentence, especially from a woman’s mouth. “I don’t think this is working between us.”

“Oh, so you’re gonna do it for me? Okay.” Honestly, he loves that solution for him. Life is still good sometimes.

“Do what?” Bela’s eyebrows quirk together in question, and he knows he should probably do a better job of hiding his grin.

“Uh… nothing. Please continue, sweetheart,” Dean smiles innocently.

“I just feel like this isn’t working, you know? I don’t think I can do this with you any longer, Dean. You disappear all the time. Donna even thinks she saw you hiding in a bloody locker two days ago, so I’m ending this,” Bela shares her feelings. She looks at him ruefully as if she even has the power or authority to break his plastic heart. He tries not to snort.

“Fantastic,” Dean accidentally lets slip. The fucking coke’s at it again today.

“Fantastic?”

“Yeah, you know,” he nods bravely, trying to remain cool, calm, and collected, “I know you were just fucking me because you wanted shit like-, uhm… a bigger part, or-, uh, or a horse, right? I’ve been around this block before. It’s okay.”

Bela frowns and rolls her eyes, groaning in annoyance. “Dean, I wasn’t shagging you because I want things! You’re so bloody paranoid all the time… I mean, I do want a horse, but that’s not why I was sleeping with you. It’s like I told you after the party – I saw your dating video and thought you were sweet. You’re funny and really, really smart. And handsome and sexy… I really fancied you.”

“Whoa…” Dean’s brow furrows in disbelief while his dick tingles. “Really? You like me?” Well, color him surprised. Maybe he underestimated her a little. Plus, a woman praising him is his goddamn weakness – the cross on his back. Between Y/N hugging him and Bela schmoozing the shit out of him, his blue jeans are getting uncomfortably tight. Fuck, he needs sex right goddamn now.

“Yes,” Bela nods like it’s obvious.

“Okay, can we-, uh, can we just reset, maybe?” Dean suggests with a flirty smile and wiggles his eyebrows, shifting closer to her on the seat.

“Dean!” Bela frowns deeply, shaking her head in irritation. “I’m not some sex robot. You can’t just push a button and reboot me.”

“Look, I’m not good with this stuff. I have a shitty history with women, alright?” Dean bats his eyelashes and shrugs sheepishly, hoping he can smooth things over with the brunette. Just one more time. All he needs is three thrusts max. Promise. “We-, uh, we can go over it if you like, sweetheart. Does that sound like fun, huh?”

“Dean, you don’t actually like me. It won’t work,” Bela rebuffs him and rolls her eyes. He’s just baffled at this point. “Besides, you’re obviously in love with Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, what now?” He’s thoroughly stumped for good, green eyes blinking at her rapidly like the wings of a hummingbird.

“You should tell her. I think she likes you, too,” Bela says her final words, kisses his cheek in a sweet goodbye, and hops out of the Impala, joining a few of the women by the pool.

What the fuck?!

12. The Warrior

Get ready for some really terrible, terrible jokes in the next part. I went all out ‘cause if we’re already here, why the fuck not, right? 😂🤷‍♀️ *throws shit into the fan like it’s confetti*

Plastic Hearts Series: @spnexploration @jessjad​ @siospins2 @mrsjenniferwinchester @akshi8278​ @xlynnbbyx​ @wayward-dreamer​ @foxyjwls007​ @smellingofpoetry​ @justrealizedimmascifygurl​ @ladysparkles78​ @leigh70​ @4getfulimaginator2022​ @globetrotter28​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​ @deansbbyx​ @yeahmynameiscool06​ @luci-wiggles​ @eevvvaa @darkened-writer​ @mimaria420​ @estelle127

[bleuzombie]

Foundling

From the Dadstiel mini bang! @dadstielminibang

Coming August 17th

Rating: General Audiences

Author: @bleuzombie

Artist: @an-android-in-a-tutu

Summary:

A child is left outside of a cave and the ancient Castiel awakens to greet the sacrifice. Jack is Castiel’s to do with as he pleases and he always wanted a child of his own.

[anamelessfool]

Violence & Gentleness Chapter 13: Gates of Waste

Chapter 13 AO3 Link 18+ MDNI (Whole Fic Link Here)

Young Primo x OC Papessa, Primo &"Emeritus" Family Tags: 1970s, Satanic Panic, Dark Magic, Bodyguard/Musician Romance, Noir Mystery, Assassins, NonVerbal Ghouls, Nameless Ghouls OC, Secondo and Primo cosplay the Winchester Brothers, Mr. NamelessFool wrestled me to make this chapter possible, the most horrifying part of this chapter is all the damn microfiche

Primo and Secondo's search deepens after leaving Copia's sigil-ridden possible birthplace. Secondo recieves an education he'd rather forget.

Chapter Art/Collage By Me, Photo Collage Below by the incomporable @ghuleh-recs

Tag List Below The Cut! (let me know if you want to join)

Taglist: @historian-crown @monkberryghouldelight @ghuleh-recs @fishwithtitz @can-of-pringles @in-cardi-c-we-thrust @riptide-kid

@thew0man @kabukiaku

[moccahobi]

A FAE’S BREW TO TAKE YOU AWAY [CHAPTER 23]

Summery: Photography: Taehyung loves it. Specifically he loves film photography. He even spent an entire day hiking and taking photos in a meadow (there was a woman there at first but she left soon after). For Y/n though, Taehyung’s trip to the meadow was the start of something bad. Something real bad.

Pairings: Taehyung (BTS) x Reader, Yoongi (BTS) x Hoseok (BTS)

Rating: Teens and up

Chapter warnings: injury, character death

Series warnings (I update as I figure more stuff out): horror, injury, threats, character death, major angst, emotional distress, alcohol, verbal fight, anxiety

Word Count:  1.7k words

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fae AU!, College AU!

Tag list: @youarejesting, @i-am-moonchild, @oddinary4bts​

Chapter 22 >> Masterlist << Chapter 23

Taehyung watched nervously as Jungkook climbed back up the hill and just passed his line of vision. Even though he couldn’t see Jungkook well, he could hear fragments of a conversation starting to happen, voices loud and angry.

chirp

chirp

chirp

He jumped at the sound of some strange animal, already too on edge from all that has been happening. Today was such a mess. Y/n moved in his pocket at the strange sounds and when he looked down, he saw her clinging closer to him than before. She must be tired and spooked as well.

“Don’t worry. I will keep you safe and protect you from all that’s happening. How about I find you a place in the woods to hide while all this goes down. No one will see you.” He whispered, hoping that she could hear his sincerity. 

chirp

chirp

chirp

The strange animal sounds grew louder as he neared the forest line. Normally, Taehyung might’ve been curious, but today with all that was happening and the pelting down rain, they struck fear in him. Looking around, he was met with an army of frogs… or toads? One of them and it didn’t matter which. They were so vibrant that they stuck out like a sore thumb and Taehyung found him involuntarily leaning closer to try to get a closer look. 

He stopped when he felt frantic movement in his pocket and looked down to see Y/n shaking with fear and trying anything to hide from the frogs. Looking them over again, he wondered if they could eat her. 

It was that moment of hesitance, of pondering an intrusive thought, that led to even more chaos breaking loose. In her frantic movement, she somehow managed to only rise in Taehyung’s pocket before eventually falling out, a piercing ringing (similar to tinnitus) leaving her small body all through the fall. As if the frogs were waiting for this, they lunged and she ran farther away, leaving Taehyung scrambling after her and the frogs, mud clinging to him while doing so. Yet, despite their size, they were so much faster than Taehyung and he was forced to watch as they got dangerously close to the swelling river. Y/n’s body shook with each harsh gust of wind, Taehyung wincing each time. A particularly harsh gust of wind in combination with a big curtain of rain and she was gone, the river now much larger. 

Taehyung’s body froze as his mind raced to try to figure out what had happened. The frogs. The river. 

Had they eaten her? 

Did the river sweep her away? 

Was she still alive? 

At some point in his frozeness, the frogs returned and were jumping on him, their slimy bodies rubbing against Taehyung. Their tongues lolled out and were lapping at his pants as well. 

Were they trying to attack him? 

An angry chuckle left him at that. They’d possibly just eaten Y/n and now they were trying to eat him!?

He shook one off, cringing as they bounced against the ground and started hopping towards him again.

The toads start trying to attack Taehyung with their tongues but that doesn't do much… it itches a little but doesn’t do much. If it wasn’t for the horror of this situation, he just might’ve laughed at a frog licking him and thinking it’ll hurt him. Not as he starts hearing some loud pitched squeal. Not as Hoseok’s voice starts rising above the storm. Not when Y/n is missing and potentially drowning. 

Something in the woods flickered bright red. 

It sounded like the squeal was coming from that direction. 

Taehyung staggered back as the bright red thing flew at him fast and hit him squarely between the eyes. It was definitely the squealing thing he heard and this close to it, the squeals sounded more like tiny screams. 

“Screw you!”

“You’re one of the humans who…” 

“My Y/n!” 

He was able to pick up some of what the screams were saying but couldn’t pay attention to any of them as he tried to dodge the flaming ball of speed and energy that kept bumping into him harshly and the frogs that were still trying to jump on him as well. His legs were shaking and he stumbled many times as he tried to dodge the tiny beings attacking him.

Only… his legs weren’t keeping him up well. 

One small misstep into some animal’s abandoned home and he found himself plummeting, searing pain ripping through his body as a scream ripped its way through his body. He couldn’t get up or move his foot. He was stuck and in some of the worst pain of his life.

Next thing he knew though, the only sensation he could still feel was the harsh wind and rain, no flaming red ball or frogs and in the change, he found himself sinking to the floor, tears flowing. 

“Are you… ok?” 

Taehyung’s head shot up and took in one of the most beautiful people he’d ever seen before. Kind eyes, soft mouth, broad shoulders. He looked sad and worried and Taehyung had no energy to question it. 

“I… I… Yes? I don’t know. I… I’m stuck. Can you help me up?” 

The man nodded, crouching down and helping him up. 

Taehyung came up easily with his help.

And his foot wasn’t stuck.

It had swollen to an angry red blistery color, blood seeping from an open wound… and worse of all, Taehyung saw white. 

Bone. 

If possible, Taehyung might’ve cried more then but he didn’t have it in him. He didn’t have any energy in him and it seemed the mysterious man didn’t either for after helping Taehyung out of the hole, he set Taehyung down. The man seemed skilled in triage though as he went about gathering materials to cover and support Taehyung’s foot. As he did that, Taehyung looked around and was faced with a fae lying on the ground and unconscious (Taehyung didn’t want to think of the possibility of them being dead). They had scorch marks on their body but overall, looked like they might have been sleeping right now and Taehyung didn’t want to think otherwise. 

He had propped himself up on the ground to try to reduce his contact with the muddy ground around him but as the mysterious man elevated and worked on Taehyung’s ankle, all energy seeped out of Taehyung. He rested on the ground and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of louder and louder arguments, angry rain and wind, and the man working. The mud seeped into his shirt and hair, filling every possible crevice it could but Taehyung couldn’t bring himself to care. 

[moonlight-rider25]

Winchester Girl Chapter 5

Previously on Winchester Girl

“We love you guys..” You call faintly to them both.

Sam stops and smiles back towards you as he closes the door and you allow a huge long awaited breath to escape you.  At that moment, you made a decision. You figured at the time, it was what was best for everyone. 

“Well, Finley…I guess we should start packing as well…”

New York, present day.

You hear Dean's alarm buzzing on the side table next to him and roll over. He seems to be snoozing peacefully through it; you try to flatten the thin pillows over your head. Finally, it gives up and you settle back into your spot and doze back off to sleep. Only to be awoken 9 mins later by the buzzing again.

"God damnit!" You curse under your breath. 

You roll over again and crawl over on top of Dean, angrily hitting the dismiss button on the screen and he finally begins to stir. His hand comes up from behind you gazing across your ass and up to your waist. You try to pry yourself from his grip but he moves with you as you lay face to face on your sides.

"Look if you wanted some more action, all you had to do was say so…" He grumbles in a low voice.

“Oh, get bent!” you tell him with a smirk as you feel him release you, and you flip back over facing away from him.

You feel the redness crawling up on your face and bury it deep within your thin, all-but-useless pillows. You breathe in the cheap laundry detergent smell and try desperately to suppress the thoughts racing through your head… 

Regardless, you know he only had a few short hours of sleep and you allow some time to pass for him to settle back to sleep before you carefully remove yourself and walk to the bathroom. After washing your hands and peering in the mirror seeing the disheveled hair due you have; slicking it back with a hair tie, you quietly make your way back out to the main room where you assume you'll hear Dean snoring. You carefully tuck yourself back into bed, hopeful for a few more undisturbed hours of rest. You grab your phone and peer at the screen making sure you have no missed calls or text messages from Sam. You set it back down quietly on your night stand and pull the covers up, feeling Dean move beside you. 

You freeze trying not to disturb him and feel his arm creep up under the covers again. This time though they don't fondle you, they just pull you closer towards him. You suck in quick shallow breath as you try to register whether or not he's awake behind you, or still in a sleep ridden daze. 

"..Dean?" You ask in a whisper.

"Hmmm.." He hums, locking his arms around you tighter.

"..Are you.."

"Hard?, Yeah sorry…you uhh, wanna lend a hand with that?" He says through his groggy morning voice.

You scoff and push yourself away from him but he locks his arm down around you tighter.

"I'm just kidding, Y/N, God!" He says less groggy now. "Even if I were, I have a little more self control than that. I mean come on, I lived with you, for what… like a year and half…" 

His voice trails off as you freeze yet again taking in his words while trying to free yourself from him. 

Disregarding all the alarms in your head, and all the times you sat and suffered through fighting back every urge inside you to be this close to him; you allow the wall you've built up inside you for some time, to come tumbling down.

Cautiously, you roll over and face him; his eyes remain shut as you stare up at his face. The stubble that's beginning to grow in along his jaw and mouth. His perky little pink lips pursed as he breathes comfortably laying in bed next to you. His hair barely ruffled from sleeping on it wet all night. You have to resist the urge to reach up and trace your hand up along his pronounced jaw line and rest your fingers between his plump little pink lips. 

"Dean!" You say again in a louder whisper this time.

His amazing green eyes pop open seeing you; and he smiles, before allowing his eyes to flutter back shut and pull you even closer towards him.

You press your face against his huge strong chest and take a deep breath in smelling him. His scent fills your lungs and you exhale slowly before taking another deep breath allowing his warm earthy aroma to fill you again. 

(How the fuck do you smell so good?) You think to yourself.

You feel him move a bit and twist over onto his back beside you. It takes everything in you not to pull him back and keep him there longer. 

Dean reaches his arms out in a stretch and rubs at his eyes for a moment with a long yawn. You inch back away from him and lay against your pillows watching him through squinted eyes.  He finally sits up and looks over to you for a moment before patting your side through the blankets.  He then tosses the covers from his huge strong body with a faint grunt and gets up heading towards the bathroom. You wait to hear the ‘click; of the door latch and grab his pillow from his spot burying your face deep within it, breathing in his sweet scent yet again.

You grunt a bit into the pillow with a final breath before tossing it aside, you roll over in your spot and sit on the edge of the bed grabbing your phone and seeing its 6:19am. You open it up and check they’re still no messages from Sam, and assume he and Finn may still be asleep…seeing as he probably did not put Finn to bed at 8 like you asked…

Dean walks out from the bathroom, fully dressed and you turn towards him with a seductive smile. You lean back on the bed eyeing him, watching the smirk creep up across his face. 

“Come on, momma.  Get dressed, we gotta hit the road..” He says in his low ‘Dean’ tone.

You groan dramatically, face planting against the bed and lay there for a moment longer before finally getting up and heading to get dressed in the bathroom.

 ~~~~

"Man, I can't wait to sleep in my own bed.." you say aloud to no one in particular. 

Dean stares ahead at the road.

"I bet.." He replies coldly.

He pulls into a rustic country looking gas station and you follow after him. He heads towards the piping hot roasting oven filled with breakfast sandwiches. You grab two extra large sized coffee cups and fill them to the brim, before making your way to the counter. He hands his stolen card over across the counter to the lady behind the register, and you bite back your lip spying the many brands of cigarettes behind her. You grab the meal Dean paid for and follow him out still dying for a cigarette. 

"Dean, I'm gonna hit the ladies room before we go…I'll be right out."

Dean nods heading out towards 'baby' and you duck back into the store and up to the counter again. The lady eyes you suspiciously and you quickly set your gas station breakfast on the counter and pull out your card.

"One pack of red L&M regulars…" you ask through a shameful smile.

~~~~

Back outside you spot Dean sitting in the driver's seat enjoying the last bites of his breakfast sandwich as you slide in next to him. He shoves the key in the ignition and begins back towards the road. The only noise filling the air is your sandwich's foil wrapper, crinkling as you unfold it. Dean stares ahead towards the road and sips his coffee, you reach over after a few long awkwardly silent minutes and turn the music up. 'Behind blue eyes' begins to sound over the speakers filling the uncomfortable quietness, and you sit back enjoying your sandwich a bit easier. 

'But my dreams, they aren't as empty

As my conscience seems to be…'

You take a sip of the piping hot day old coffee to wash down the sandwich.

'No one knows what it's like

To feel these feelings

Like I do

And I blame you…'

After finishing up your sandwich and feeling not so great about what you just put into your body, you pull out your phone and decide to text Sam to let him know you’re headed home and should be there sometime tonight. The little notification icon at the top of the screen pings and you open and read a text message from your neighbor, Ann. 

You’ve known Ann for a while, a married mom of three who was very good at overstaying her welcome, but you allowed it, seeing as she was always lending a hand when you needed it, with Finn. She was nice enough company and even on occasion you had enjoyed drinks with her beside her pool while Finn played with her kids; two daughters that were close to him in age, and an older boy who clearly was a spitting image of his father.

'Who's the house guest?'

You smile to yourself a bit and realize soon enough you'll be the talk of the town with Sam staying and watching Finn…

'Old family friend…Had some other family stuff come up, I’ll be home tonight.'

(A believable lie, though you hope she doesn't dig too deeply into it…)

Your phone dings again, almost immediately after sending the message.

'Oh, no! Is everything okay? 

…Damn, so no new bf gossip I can get from you then..?'

You roll your eyes, playing off what you can.

'Nope, we’re fine now… and sorry, nothing like that lol' 

(New boyfriend gossip, no. Old boyfriend gossip, well that's another story.)

'What a shame, I was hoping to hear all about his cute little biteable ass..👅'

You peer down at your phone screen smirking to yourself when you hear Dean's deep voice boom from beside you.

"Ah shit!"

You close the phone, completely forgetting to text Sam, and look over to Dean.

"...I think I missed our exit back there. Can you grab the map in the back and see if we can take this next…" 

Dean's voice trails off as you reach in the back searching through cassette tapes, napkins, receipts, bags of who knows what, and a few half empty water bottles for the road maps. You open one up and spread it across the seat for him to look at while typing in your address to pull up the Google maps info.

The automated voice on your phone begins barking directions and Dean glares at you.

"Look, you know I don't know how to read those damn things… this will tell you the best route even when you take a wrong turn…"

"I don't need that garbage. Turn it off!" He huffs angry.

You turn the volume all the way down and peer at the illuminated screen showing you to make a U turn in the middle of the highway.

(Well that's not gonna happen…)

"You can text your boyfriend later, could you please tell me what exit I can take?"

You peer down at the paper map between you and Dean with complete and utter dismay. 

"Dean, I don't even know where we are here!" 

"Goddamn it, just give me it…"

Dean snatches the map, wrinkling it a bit and after trying to focus on the road and the map, tosses it in the back again before taking the next exit. He whips the car into the nearest parking lot and parks it before grabbing the map again and figuring out where to go.

"Thanks for the help, co-pilot." He says in a gruff tone.

"Sorry! I didn't grow up reading these things like you and Sam did, I have no idea what I'm looking for!" You tell him defensively.

"It's a damn map, Y/N. Pretty self explanatory.." 

“Yeah, and so are feelings and attitudes, yet here we are!” You yell a bit harsher than you intended. 

Dean scoffs, staring intently at the map.

“...And that's supposed to mean what, exactly?...”

“What the hell is your problem, Dean? You were fine like two hours ago, now all of a sudden you've got some sort of vendetta out for me? What the hell did I do?!” You ask shrilly.

He stares at you through glaring eyes. You patiently await his answer…with no luck.

“Just forget it…I don’t care..” You tell him agitatedly, opening the door and plucking the new pack of cigarettes from your purse. 

You slam the door behind you and lean heavily against the car, packing the new pack of cigarettes against your palm before plucking one and slipping it hastily between your lips. You fish around in your purse looking for a lighter and hear the driver's door open and slam shut again. 

“What the hell, Y/N! You promised you were done with that shit!” Dean calls walking around the hood of the impala.

“I’ve made a lot of promises in my life, Dean!…” You yell back through your gritted teeth.

“Yeah, well in this family, we don’t break promises!” He yells at you.

“Oh, don’t start getting all high and mighty up there on me. You know just as well as I do the countless promises you’ve broken!” You light your cigarette and blow the thick cloud of smoke into his direction as he grimaces and stares daggers back towards you.

“Not like you’re making it very easy to quit, either!” You say through a long drag. “...Typical Dean just shutting everyone out and off!”

You take another long puff as Dean's cold look breaks for a moment. He plucks the cigarette from your lips and flicks it off into the distance. 

“What the hell Dean!” You cry, staring shocked at him.

“Don’t start with that crap, Y/N, God..” He screams, turning away for a moment with his hands firmly on his hips.

“You think this is easy for me…think I like showing up at your doorstep, forced to watch you and Sam have your sweet little romantic moments with each other?!” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” You yell glaring up towards him. 

“Oh please!” he says, still loudly, but gentler now.  “You and I both know you still love him! And you’re not stupid, you know he still loves you!” He spits angrily towards you.

“I never said I stopped loving him, Dean! But Jesus Christ, I never stopped loving you either!” 

You bite back your lip and swallow hard when you realize what you’ve said. Dean scoffs dramatically and turns back away from you, kicking at the ground as he does.

“Don’t humor me Y/N…”

“Fuck you Dean! …You think I meant that to let that slip out!?” You shake a bit with anger, yelling towards his back. "I’m not even the same person Sam fell in love with all those years ago! Hell, neither is he, but I still love you both, regardless of all the time apart!” 

Dean slowly turns back a bit, crossing his arms disapprovingly, eyeing you through squints.

“...Since when?” He asks loudly but not in a yell.

“Since…I don’t know, forever!” 

“...And you just never thought to ever mention anything of that?” He asks, still staring intently through his squinted disapproving look.

“To tell you what, Dean? Huh? That I loved you, just as much as your brother?!” Your voice begins to grow hoarse from yelling so much.  

You throw your purse to the ground and inch closer towards him, screaming up at his pouting face. 

“...Tell you about the countless nights I laid wrapped in Sam’s arms, I'd often secretly wish they were yours! Or that when he'd roll me over in the middle of the night, more times than not I was hoping it was your face I'd see, and not Sam’s?! Hell, I didn’t even think you looked at me that way till the day you met me in the shower!” 

“Then why the hell did you leave?!” He booms from above you.

“Leave?!” You scream up towards him.  “You really think I wanted to go home and watch as it took her three months to slowly die beside me?”

“No, not back then, …with Finn!” He booms with an apologetic look on his face.

“...Because even then, I figured it was just a weak moment of lust, and not that you actually had feelings for me!” You tell him breathless, your throat strained from yelling so much.

“What do you want me to say here, Dean?” You ask, dropping your hands by your thighs. “That I love you? That I’ve always loved you? That I’m sorry I couldn’t read your mind, and tell you sooner?” Your voice cracking a bit as you speak.

Dean's eyes glimmer a bit as he peers down to you and brushes your hair behind your ear. You swallow hard, your heart thumping in your chest and your eyes growing blurry with the tears building in them. 

You sniffle and swat his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” You say angrily.

“Why?” He asks loudly, backing you against the car.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You say shoving him away.

He stands staring at you, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“Alright!” he yells, “I'm not!” 

You smack him in the chest before pushing him away a few more times unsuccessfully.

“Asshole!” You scream. “Fuck you!”

You smack him one more time before gripping onto his shirt and pulling him down towards yours.

He engulfs your mouth in his and you pant against him as he backs you carefully against the car again. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and eagerly suck at his tongue dancing around your mouth. His hands slide up along your hips beneath your thin leather jacket and you pull him towards you more. He leans heavily against you, pinning you between his huge muscular safe body and the car. You moan against him while he digs his huge weathered fingertips into your waist. You grip a fist of his hair and pull his head back, watching him lick his lips through lust filled eyes as he peers back down at you.

“Please, don’t make me stop..” He grunts in a low whisper. 

“...I’m not..I just…” You release your hand from his hair and eagerly await his mouth on yours again with a heavy moan. “...Still fuck you!” You whine in a moan against him.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck me, …I’m an asshole I know…” He says seductively trailing hot wet kisses down your neck. 

You groan pushing him away a bit again, and he slams his hand against the side of the impala.

“Fuck you!” You say, holding yourself up against him.

“Yeah..I really wish you would..” he says through a devilish smile.

“Shut, uppp!” You giggle through a sniffle.

His huge hand reaches up and caresses the faint tear streak from your cheek, he presses his big soft lips against yours a final time, then presses his forehead to yours for a moment.

“Think we got time for a quickie?” He says coyly tapping the back window of the Impala. 

You laugh wholeheartedly with your eyes closed, as you lean against him.

“Mmm, sorry, you missed your chance this morning..” You tell him through a grin.

“This morning?...” he asks, raising a brow, “Wake and lay, atta girl ..I’ll have to remember that..” He says pulling gently at the waist of your jeans. You caress your hand down the side of his face, feeling the slight bit of stubble growing in along his jaw and gently graze your thumb across his bottom lip.

“So…You’re really gonna get me all worked up and leave me hanging?” He asks with a smirk.

“Shuut, upp!” You say again pushing him away playfully with a loud giggle.

“Alright…alright!... Rain check?…” he says backing up and opening your door for you.

You slide in and grab your purse from the ground before peering back up towards him.

“Rain check..” You tell him through a flirtatious smile. 

You reach for the door and he grunts a bit, stopping you.

“..Just uh,...give me a sec..” he says adjusting his jeans.

You cackle loudly as he swings the door closed and carefully walks around the front of ‘baby’, still adjusting the front of his jeans. He carefully leans in towards the driver's seat, and shoves the key in the ignition, the loud rumble of the car beginning to fill the air.

“Bratt..” He mumbles as he shifts the car into drive.

You let another loud cackle spill from your lips and playfully smack him in the chest as he turns around to back out of the parking spot.

~~~~

Back on the road, in the right direction this time; Dean picks back up on the conversation from earlier.

“So, what are we gonna tell Sammy?...”

He asks, peering over at you with a suspicious look.

“About what?” You reply quietly, knowing all too well exactly what he's referring to.

“..You know..us?” He says looking back from you to the road.

You whip your head around towards him and allow a heavy exhale to leave your mouth.

“And what exactly would you call ‘us’, Dean?” 

He meets your eye for a second with a bewildered brow raise, before looking back towards the road, unsure of what to say.

“Exactly.” you tell him, turning back to face the road beside him. 

“There was never any ‘us’ with Sam, there's no ‘us’ between you and I..”

“Hey! Come on! That's not true!” He says defensively.

“Dean, come on, who are we kidding?... You have your lives, I have mine, and frankly I don’t see the two of them merging anytime soon, do you?” You ask frankly, in a level tone. 

Dean sighs and digs his thumb nail into the steering wheel.

“I’m just saying..” You add trying to lighten the blow.

“No I see what you’re saying..” he huffs through a sigh. “You know, I really actually do care about you Y/N…” He says softer this time meeting your look. “...I always have…”

“...I know.. But… enough to quit hunting?” You ask faintly, reaching over and grabbing his hand. “Don’t answer that…” 

You tell him, peering out your side window with a heavy sigh, avoiding the knowing look Dean probably has for you right now.

(I already know the answer.)

You knew how it sounded, and you knew from his silence he also knew you were right.  Dean and Sam dedicated themselves to hunting, you dedicated yourself to taking care of Finn.  There was no way the two would ever merge together, especially seeing as Finn didn't have any idea about any of it. Hunting monsters; things that most people had no idea were really out there.  It was the huge responsibility that both the brothers decided to take on; that you also had considered doing alongside them.  But, a lot had changed since then, and you realized no matter how much you wanted to be next to them in line of battle, up against creatures of nightmares; Finn needed a parent who could provide a safe stable home for him.  He was your choice, just as hunting was Sam and Dean’s…

~~~~

The bunker, 7 years earlier.

You sit on the couch watching Steve Harvey, a guilty pleasure of yours, eating cereal in one of Sam's oversized tee shirts.  You hear the bunker's door screech open from above; Sam and Dean returning from a quick supply run, and Sam greets you with a gentle kiss on the top of your head. 

“Hey, babe!” You call through a mouthful of frosted flakes.

“Ah, Steeve! I’ll be right in…” He trails off heading back towards the door.

You look back to the tv screen watching Steve address the live crowd and his ridiculous dating advice he's giving someone; when your phone rings.

You place your bowl on the coffee table and reach for the vibrating phone, reading your nana's name across the screen.

“Hey nannie!” You say joyfully still swallowing the mouthful of cereal down.

The voice on the other end of the line isn't nana, and you sit still in fear as you listen to the words your mom speaks to you over the line.

“...Nana’s.. she's had a stroke. The Doctors are asking everyone to come say their final goodbyes…” 

Your heart drops into your stomach as you sit and stare blankly at Steve cracking jokes on the screen. 

It takes you a while to process what you've just heard, even after hanging up the phone and sitting uncomfortably perched on the end of the couch. Nana; the lady that raised you in your careless mothers absence, the lady who taught you almost everything you knew, cooking, sewing, manners; all of it. You recall not having seen her for almost a year, as you were staying with Sam but you kept in touch almost daily over the phone. The lump welling up in your throat as you sat thinking about the way she used to hold your hand between the two of hers and tell you,

“You are my light in this dark, scary world Y/N…”

Where was her light now, when she needed you, in her dark scary time?

You wipe back your tears as Sam jumps over the back of the couch beside you pulling you towards him as you stare up at him with the wetness glistening in your eyes.

“Y/N, what's wrong?!” He asks, concerned. 

“I gotta go home..” You whine through your squeaky sob filled voice.

[copiassluttiestrat]

what the fuck did i just find 😭 I cant

[solitary-reading]

the problem with writing fanfiction is that i get so many ideas that i find it so hard to stay concentrated on just one fanfic... i end up working at 5 at a time. it gets very confusing

[hotel-casifornia]

just realized i never posted about my fanfic! i wanted to update and say i started working on it again! feel free to check it out

[rocksaltandmountainash]

Waking up in Beacon Hills - pt. 23

* Author: Ellie @rocksaltandmountainash​

* Summary:  Derek cares for Kara while she recovers from her injuries and everyone prepares to fight the Nogitsune. Set during Teen Wolf season 3, episode 23.

* Previous parts: can be found here.

* Warnings: descriptions of injuries. Chris Argent is a heart breaker.

* Gifs: not mine, credit to the owners/creators linked here: 

One | Two | Three 

* Word count: 2.4k

Derek drives you home in silence, politely tries to ignores the sadness emanating from you. He’s gentle when he helps you down the entrance to his loft. Patient as you have to turn and step awkwardly, try not to bend your knee too much. Leads you to his bed on the main floor so you don’t have to negotiate the staircase. 

Feeling grateful, you apologize for the intrusion and then settle on the mattress. He’s pulled an end table closer, set it up with tissues, a water bottle, and a phone charger. The thought and effort bring a smile to your face.

When you sit, the tiniest movements cause searing jolts of pain to shoot through your thigh, making you gasp. Derek kneels in front of you.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yup. But I got these…” you pull the brown package of medications out of your bag and read the labels “Advil, Amoxicillin, and oh…Tramadol…nice.”

“You shouldn’t take those on an empty stomach.”

Derek heads to the kitchen, bustles around, trying to be as quiet as possible. He returns and bashfully hands you a sandwich.

“Hope it’s okay? Ham and cheese?”

It shouldn’t make you tear up, but it does. The kindness. The shy way he’s looking after you, the napkin folded neatly on the side of the plate. Because as much as you can’t admit it, you really need someone to be nice to you right now, to care. 

Everything hurts, your wrist is itchy inside the brace, your neck is throbbing and you can detect a headache settling into the base of your skull. There’s a ringing in your ears and your leg is switching between thrumming with pain or tingling numbness. The lunch that Derek has made for you is your favorite, but with stomach tied in knots, you're uncertain if you can even take a bite.

And then there's your heart, which you're pretty sure is broken.

Fuck.

You choke back a sob that threatens to break through. Derek moves closer, ready to siphon off some of your sorrow.

“Can I ask you something?”

Derek agrees instantly but regrets it, anxious you’ll ask for relationship advice.

“Do you feel it?”

He doesn’t respond, unclear what you’re asking.

“I know you can sense when people are in pain. But do you feel it…all of it?”

His eyes go wide. No one had ever asked him that. No one ever cared if he said yes. 

“Sometimes.” 

“Huh…And when you do the thing?” you gesture hands being held together, and Derek nods, realizing you’re talking about when werewolves take people’s pain.

“That sounds awful.”

Derek turns away from your sympathetic stare, he hadn't thought about it in a long time. It has become expected, conditioned in him to help. Seizing the moment, you cram the corner of the sandwich into your mouth. You shove the water toward Derek to hold, understanding his need for busy hands, while you pop the tops off the pill bottles. 

“I don’t want you to do that for me.”

Taking back the water, you tip your head and swallow the tablets. Derek’s troubled by the thought he’s overstepped the bounds of your growing friendship. He wasn’t skilled at this; closeness, friendship, always his way to be too much or not enough. 

“Let modern medicine solve this one, Derek.”

Smiling softly, you remind him, “Not everything’s on you.”

You hope he takes your point. Recently, guilt has raced across his face, and you’d caught the unreadable glances between him and Chris when he picked you up. Something happened, you don’t know what, but you know it’s not his fault. You guessed the Nogitsune had its hooks in him. In a perverse way, the fact dulled the anguish you felt. Helped to melt the icy touch of failure burrowing its way into you.

Derek lets out a brief sigh, uncomfortable with your caring, and promptly shifts the focus of the conversation back to you.

“You should rest.”

You hum in agreement. Derek busying himself with moving things off the bed while you unlace your boots, dizzy when you’re done, the warmth of the pain pill flooding over you. You let him tuck you in, mumble a “Thanks.” as you roll over. Asleep before you can even think to ask what your friends are doing, where they are in the search for Lydia.

The urgent pings of your phone wakes you, and you grope around the bedside table to bring it to your face. With one eye still closed, you read messages from Stiles, long paragraphs filled with apologies that make you bolt straight up in the bed. You dial his number, need him to hear you, can’t waste time on texts that risk being misunderstood.

“Hi.”

It comes out sad, and it makes your heart stutter.

“Stiles. Don’t be a dick. It wasn’t you.”

He’s silent while he processes, his heavy burden only slightly lifted at your familiar, no bullshit tone. But still hesitant, with a lingering doubt that you had forgiven him. He can’t fathom that to you, there was no cause for forgiveness.

“Stiles?”

“I’m here.”

“How are you?”

“I’m alright.”

Only half awake, you’re blunt; “Are you lying?”

“Maybe,” he confesses, knows there’s no point in trying to hide the truth from you.

“Put me on Facetime.”

You wait as he presses the button, his face coming into view.

“Right. Listen to me. It’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay.”

“But you don’-”

You cut him off, anticipating what he’ll say; that you can’t possibly know that. He’s right, there aren’t guarantees. Still, you’re adamant as you remind him about the Darach, how your healed wounds had reopened without reason, weeks after it attacked you. That they’d returned to scars once Jennifer had been dealt with.

“Weird shit happens with these things Stiles. They get in your head and fuck with you, but I swear, you’ll be better soon.”

His mouth tugs into a faint smile. The knowledge he still has you, that you harbour no hatred toward him, alleviates his fears.

“When he’s dead?”

“Yeah, kid. When we kill it.”

Stretching in Derek’s bed, you consider what strength it’s going to take to get up. Hopeful that Derek won't mind the fallen crumbs, you munch on the rest of your sandwich.

Outside, the last of the daylight is fading away, bathing the loft in a washed out yellow glow. It’s time. If the others haven’t found Lydia yet, the Oni will lead you to her and the Nogitsune.

You need to get ready, had meant it when you told the Nogitsune you’d kill him. Your determination to fulfill that promise had only grown after the sharp bite of the blade piercing your flesh, narrowly missing your bone.

You take a few more Advil, gulping down water before taking a few tentative steps. It aches, but you’re not as dazed or unbalanced, and the buzzing in your head has dissipated enough for you to concentrate on the job ahead.

You rummage through the bag Allison had brought to you in the hospital - fresh clothes, your wallet, a set of knuckle dusters, plus a box of ammunition. Bless her. You wonder if Derek has weapons, your Desert Eagle and a few knives don’t seem enough. What you wouldn’t give to be holding the Winchesters’ demon killing blade right now.

Abruptly, the loft door slides open, Derek rushing in and depositing someone on the couch. You hadn’t even noticed his absence, though you can’t blame him for not sticking around to watch you passed out.

“Ugh,” you can’t conceal your hostility when you see who’s he’s dragged in with him. “What happened?”

“Not sure. Someone tried to kill them.”

"Should’ve left them," you mutter unkindly, distracted as Argent enters the room, hauling the other twin, “They killed Boyd.”

Chris tilts his head in greeting, but avoids your gaze, wiping black stained hands on his trousers, as Derek pulls him away.

“Like you’ve never killed anyone.” Aiden, or Ethan, - you don’t particularly care which - spits your way, making you realize you had spoken aloud.

"Happy to add two more to the list," you say dismissively, your attention shifting to Derek and Argent's animated conversation.

“I found these.”

Derek produces spent shotgun shells from his pocket as you join them, clarifies for your benefit, “They’re filled with wolfsbane.”

“Oh.”

Possibly it’s the grogginess of your concussion, but you’re oblivious to why he’s surprised. If hunters were after the twins, it makes sense for them to be armed and know tricks of the trade. It was an added complication that you absolutely didn’t need right now, but surely not a reason for Derek to panic.

Hearing your phone ring, you shuffle toward the bed, one ear still trained on their discussion.

“This wasn’t Araya, was it?” Chris asks.

“I don’t think so - they don’t look like hers.”

You’re too slow, and your phone rings off before you make it over to the nightstand. Frustrated with your limitations, you round up your gear - gun, knife, ammo, get stuffed into your bag, phone clutched in your hand. Glancing over to where Chris is studying the shell further, something in how he spins it round and round, eyes narrowing as he examines it, piques your interest.

“It’s not possible…”

Shit. He’s definitely disturbed. But if it’s not the Nogitsune, or finding Lydia safe, it’s not your priority.

“It was Allison,” you tell Argent, waving the phone as you return to him and Derek, “Should I call her back?”

There’s no chance for him to reply before his phone starts, and he smiles at the picture instinctively.

“Allison.”

You only hear Chris’s side of the exchange, his hurried demands for her to wait for him. She won’t. Says there isn’t time and hangs up, leaving Chris shaken.

“Go,” Derek urges, “I’ll keep an eye on them.”

Chris nods, strides to the door.

“Wait! I’m coming.”

You trail behind him, in a lagging pace, desperate not to slow him down. He spins and starts to object.

“Please.”

A single plea - the rest are wordless. Please, let me help. Don’t shut me out. Please, let me be useful. Let’s go get your girl, let’s find Lydia. Let me fix my mistake. Please, let me kill him.

He says nothing, just steps back to allow you to pass. Almost lays a helping hand on the small of your back before remembering.

Chris starts the car, tone clipped as he asks “Can you check the map?”

“Course.”

You navigate out of downtown and direct him towards the rural road that leads to the Oak Creek camp. Then you stop talking and start chewing on your nail, calculating how much time you have, if he can beat the Oni there.

“Sore?” Chris asks, drawing you from your thoughts.

“Drugged.” you smile over. It’s so automatic to tease him, makes you swallow hard with regret.

With determination, he keeps his gaze fixed on the road ahead, his jaw clenched tightly as he fights back the urge to pull over and beg for forgiveness.

He presses, acquainted with the way you deflect concern; “Honestly... Are you okay?”

"I'm good," you promise, the confidence in your voice genuine. The combination of sleep and medication has worked wonders, reducing the pain in your leg to a level you can cope with, manage as an inconvenience. Still nauseous and a barely audible, far off drone echoes in your ears, but that’s a concussion for you.

Your reassurance calms him, and you spot his grip relaxing around the steering wheel. Feel glad you’ve not become a hinderance. The satisfaction brought by reading his moods so effortlessly is bittersweet. You want to detach from your feelings for him, spare yourself the agony.

You sneak a glance, guessing at his thoughts. Suspect he must despise you for what you said and how you hurt him, right? Unaware of his struggle and his talent for compartmentalising, you wonder how he’s so okay. Think you may have distorted the entire thing between you. “Relationship” seems like a stretch. And if you weren’t together, then ending it wasn’t exactly a break up.

Oh.

It dawns on you the situation might be worse than you thought. That just like with Sam, you had misjudged and made the same mistake. You thought you had discovered a kindred spirit, but it turned out that the bond you imagined was one-sided. That’s why Chris is being so unnervingly civil with you. He pities you. You’ve never felt so pathetic.

Sighing, you shake your head, deciding to prepare yourself to fight the Oni instead. Focus on something you can unravel, something you’re good at.

You begin with breathing exercises you’d learnt long ago, a habit to centre yourself. Rotate your wrist in the brace, testing your range of motion, before removing it altogether. The sprain isn’t serious, and you’d prefer not to signal your weakness to an opponent. You think of ways to compensate for your shaky leg.

Thankfully, you’re a southpaw, so your default of having your right foot forward would serve you well. You’ll have to dampen your instinct to move constantly.

You’d usually lead with your right - jabs and hooks - work them around the ring and follow up with left crosses - your strongest swing. But with your leg mangled, movement and shifting your stance could tire you out prematurely.

As you visualise, a tremor of excitement passes through you, muscles twitching in anticipation.

You’ll adjust, be more defensive, plant yourself and take the hits. It’s vital to make your punches count and inflict the most damage you can. The Oni’s masks were unyielding, rendering headshots pointless so you’ll wear the brass knuckles and go straight to the body. Powerful crosses, you might throw in a couple of bolos where you can, they always hurt. A few kidney punches for good measure.

It's akin to dancing, makes you sway in your seat as you envision the fight. Bob and weave to dodge the Oni. A few pulls to get them off kilter, counter and keep your head up. Pushing and driving to the part you love the most. Wild brawling. Training and skill going by the wayside, moves unsanctioned. Brutal. Glorious.

* * * * *

You were too late.

Allison.

[unique-high]

New Masterlist Theme. I really love it. Didn't know there was limit to imagines being added so my supernatural section doesn't have a cool header 😭. It took me forever to get to organizing my Masterlist. I would see other lovely fanfic authors with the prettiest Masterlist theme and theirs be so organized and shit. 😭 So I thought I'll try and do the same. Enjoy the new theme. ☺️

After Hours Fm Raido Masterslist

Welcome to AFTER HOURS FM RAIDO where we bring you the hottest hits and the latest news! I'm your host, UNIQUE-HIGH, and I've got a great lineup for you today, including the brand-new single from Kim Namjoon and an exclusive interview with Hoonjoong So stay tuned and let's get this party started!

Geto

Dating Bada Lee Would Include

requested: clingy drunk bada

Namjoon x blk fem reader

2. Namjoon x blk fem reader

3. Namjoon x blk fem reader

Tonight We're Dancing |Idol Namjoon x Blk Fem Reader

Yoongi X Blk Male OC

In between the pages of you | YOONGI X BLK FEM READER

Jungkook x you

San & you are the main characters in the K-Drama, nevertheless.

This is how you fall in love intro chapter Mingi ff

Ateez x you songfic

Ateez San x blk fem reader

Ateez with their s/o

Ateez x blk fem reader imagine

Sunscreen | Mingi x Blk Fem Reader

Requested: ATEEZ x S/O sharing their food or drinks with them

BONNET | ATEEZ X BLK FEM READER

REQUESTED ATEEZ S/O YOUTUBE LIVE STREAMER

Plug Daughter | Ateez Hongjoong x Blk fem reader NSFW

This is how you fall in love Mingi x blk tomboy fem reader

Time Stamp RIIZE Wonbin X Blk Fem Reader

Keep Wanting You RIIZE ANTON X BLK FEM READER

Requested: Boyfriend Material | RIIZE SUNGCHAN X BLK FEM READER

(Requested) I could fall in love with you | RIIZE IDOL EUNSEOK X BLK FEM READER

5:46 pm | RIIZE WONBIN X BLK FEM READER

Requested Mark Lee X Black Fem Reader

MARK LEE X BLACK READER | HOME

NCT 127 X S/O WITH LOCS

Hanbin x Blk Fem OC

Stray Kids Imagine

Requested: Cha Eunwoo

👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻

SUPERNATURAL

DEAN WINCHESTER X BLK FEM READER

Somebody's problem Dean Winchester x Blk Fem Reader

[miss-madness67]

Advent Calendar 2022: Day 7 (Dean)

A story of 25 christmases with the love of your life, Dean Winchester.

(These are not stand-alone drabbles, you must read them as a whole).

Day 6

“Come dance with me?” You murmur in Dean’s ear as the party is in full-on blast around you. You’re too drunk to notice, but the soft breath on his skin sends goosebumps all over.

This year you couldn’t scrunch up enough money to visit your family for the holidays, you tried, you really did, but being a 21-year-old, college student rediscovering herself proves to be more expensive than it seems. Now that you’re legal to do a lot of things and try some others -not that it stopped you before- you want to get the best out of college and youth. There’s a strong probability of going back to being a hunter, so now it’s when you should let loose. Of course, your plans of not going back to Sioux Falls didn’t stop Dean from borrowing the Impala and showing up at your campus unannounced.

A drunk Santa bumps into you, sending you on top of Dean, who is perched on a barstool. Surprisingly, he’s the one keeping the wits tonight because he hasn’t had more than a beer.

Dean sighs, “I think it’s time for us to go back to your dorm, you’re wasted.”

You whine, “whaaat? We just got here.”

“Sugar, we got here five hours ago.”

You pout, “I thought you wanted to take a pretty college girl to your motel?” You cannot hide the snide in your voice.

Dean catches on, but decides to ignore it, instead, he says; “I am taking a pretty college girl, but to her room.” He smirks at you, “now, c’mon, I don’t want you to puke on me.”

Day 8

Tags: @sweetwerewolfqueen @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @perpetualabsurdity @deanswaywardgirl @seppys-return-to-madness @desimarie12 @hobby27 @mrspeacem1nusone @fluff-lover @melannie77