#teen!dean x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

princessxt · 6 months ago

Note

Hi! Could you do an imagine where dean and sam have a younger sister and she has a nightmare and ends up sleeping between her brothers?

omg, sorry for the delay, I really was lacking creativity!!

You can make a request in the comments or by asking me a question!

(Please don't be shy to ask, I'm very happy when I have a request to write)

You can see the list of who I write about here

"The Monster Is Gone"

Pairing(s): Dean/Sam Winchester x Sister Reader

Gender: Angst, fluffy

Warnings: Nightmares, monsters, lots of blood and disturbing writing for more sensitive readers

——————♥︎♥︎——————

My childhood memories were never clear, only blurry images and meaningless phrases wandered through my mind when I tried hard to remember.

A part of me thanks my brain for not allowing me to remember, since I knew the images would be too disturbing for a budding teenager, but when Dad went hunting, disappeared and I had to be under the care of my older brothers during the hunts, everything changed.

I still remember when I had the first memory, it was after a hunt where a student came back from the dead seeking revenge. We were in the car, Dean was driving, and Sam was by his side, in silence while I was in the back seat, still processing the information of the case when the memory came. A blonde woman in pajamas ran through the hallways of a house with a child in her arms, who I soon realized was me.

Over the next few days, I began to dream about it, and as the dreams went on, the images became clearer. One day I realized it was nighttime, and the girl carrying me was wearing red pajamas. Two days later, I realized that the pajamas weren't red, they were white, but they were stained with blood. It was on that day that I started to avoid sleeping as much as possible, afraid of finding out whose blood was on her clothes.

That was 4 months ago, and during that time, each day that passed I saw a little more of that night, and now I knew that the woman was my mother, and the blood on her clothes was my father's, but the worst part was knowing that there was something following me and my mother.

I never told my brothers about this, I know they would be worried, and we have too many things to worry about, like ghosts and demons, and I didn't want to take their minds off work.

We were coming back from a hunt, Dean was driving, Sam was in the passenger seat sleeping, and I was in the back seat, trying my best to avoid falling asleep, but the book I had in my hands to keep me awake wasn't working, and little by little, I rested my head against the window, and fell asleep.

And there I was, crying in my mother's lap while she held me against her chest, with her body against the door, the thing that was chasing us walked calmly through the hallways, and slowly reached behind the door where we were. He knocked once. My mother put her hand over her mouth to keep from making noise. He knocked a second time. I could feel my mother's hands shaking. The third knock was so loud that my mother was pushed from the door, detaching me from her body. When we looked back, he was there.

He was tall, had no face, just a blood-stained mouth and sharp teeth. His fingers were long, and his nails were also stained with blood, just like the black suit he was wearing.

My mother, in an attempt to protect me, pushed me against the wall and covered me with her body, making a human shield. I could feel her tears wetting my pink pajamas as I heard her scream.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, PLEASE! SHE'S JUST A CHILD"

In response, he let out a frightening laugh. In a few seconds, he pulled my mother and threw her to the floor, while she tried to fight, but the thing was strong and held her without effort. The next scene was the worst.

He opened his mouth, showing his huge teeth and then immediately struck her neck, making blood gush all over the room.

I watched that scene, cowering and scared in the corner of the room while I screamed, begging him to let my mother go, but that must have made him feel even hungrier for her, since he raised his long arm and struck her belly, cutting her skin with his sharp nails.

At that moment, I looked at my mother, who was staring at me with her lifeless eyes, wet with tears of pain.

"Y/N! Y/N, wake up!" I heard a voice call out

"Wake up! You need to wake up!" Again, and this time, louder.

At that moment I woke up. Sweaty, with irregular breathing and a dry throat. I looked ahead and saw Dean and Sam looking at me. We were stopped on a dark road.

"Is everything okay?" Dean asks, meanwhile, Sam opens the car door and gets out, opening the back one and getting in, sitting next to me.

"Okay, sure." I answer nervously, trying to compose myself.

"It didn't seem okay while you were screaming," Sam says, handing me a bottle of water, which I gladly accept.

"It was just a dream, I'm fine." I try to convince them, but by their faces, it hadn't worked.

"If it was just a dream, I'm even afraid to know your nightmares," Dean says and starts driving again.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam whispers in my ear, and I try to hold back the tears, while I just nod my head in agreement.

"There's a motel a few minutes from here, we'll spend the night there," Dean says and continues down the road.

It doesn't take long until we arrive at the motel. It was a classic roadside motel, but it was enough.

Dean and Sam get a single room for the two of them, and one for me.

I didn't plan on sleeping that night, so when the boys went to their rooms, I grabbed some snacks from a vending machine and went to my room, turning on the TV to a channel that was showing a series, with the intention of distracting myself from the memories.

I manage not to think about my dreams for 2 or 3 hours, but at one point, sleep begins to set in, and little by little my eyes close, but I always realize that I am about to fall asleep, and I wake up with a jolt. I turn off the television and go to the bathroom.

I take off the clothes I was wearing and get in the shower. The hot water hits the tense muscles in my shoulders and relaxes them in a few seconds. I close my eyes and throw my head back, wetting my hair and face. I massage my scalp with the intention of relaxing, but I quickly tense up when I feel a sudden cold, despite the hot water.

I step out of the shower and dry my eyes with my hands, and when I look at the curtain, I can see the shadow of something behind it. Something very similar to the Being from my memories.

With my heart racing and my breathing irregular, I open the curtain in a quick movement, but relax when I find nothing on the other side.

I turn off the shower, still confused and scared by what happened before, and put on some warm pajamas.

I think about lying back down on the bed and watching the series again, but I look at the bedside table and see the spare key to my brothers' room that Sam gave me in case of an emergency.

Without thinking much, I grab the key and go to the next room, unlocking it slowly, not wanting to alarm the boys.

I open the door and close it behind me, when I turn around, I see Sam, still awake, sitting on the couch that was in the room with a book in his hand.

"Hi, did something happen?" He says quietly and puts the book aside, coming to me.

"I'm scared." My eyes fill with tears and I hug him. I feel his big arms holding me tightly, bringing me closer to his chest.

"It's okay, little one. I'm here." He kisses the top of my head as I sob against his soft shirt.

"Come, lie down with us." He pulls away and goes to the bed.

"Dean, go over there." He pokes Dean's shoulder, making him wake up half-dazed and ready to curse his brother, but stops when he sees me crying next to the bed.

Dean pulls away and I lay down next to him, Sam laying down next to me, making me be between the two of them.

"You're safe with us," Dean whispers, going back to sleep.

"You don't have to tell me what you're afraid of, but know that I'm here for you when you're ready to tell me," Sam whispers behind me.

"I'm having dreams. Actually, they're not dreams, they're memories from my childhood, before Dad adopted me. In these memories, a monster or whatever it was killed my father and mother, right in front of me."

"You don't have to be afraid. Dad told us about this story. He came when the monster was on top of your mother and killed it before it had a chance to hurt you. Sleep, and don't worry about your dreams, the monster is gone, it's dead, and your brothers are here to protect you from anything."

297 notes · View notes

wendichester · 16 days ago

Note

omg let me just say I LOVE your writing, you inspired me to start writing

can you please write more teen!dean x reader

luv ya <3

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ so cool,

summary. dean stumbles upon a hunter his age. he's... well... shocked.

pairing. teen!dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 725

notes. let's all chant together teen dean! teen dean! teen dean!

Dean Winchester has seen a lot of things in his sixteen years—things most people wouldn’t believe even if they saw them with their own two eyes. He’s fought monsters, patched up wounds, taken on responsibilities way beyond his age. He’s faced down things straight out of nightmares, but nothing—nothing—prepared him for you.

You stroll into the rundown diner like you own the place, all confidence and purpose, a hint of dried blood on the sleeve of your worn-out jacket. You don’t even look around, just march straight up to the counter and order a coffee like you’re twice your age. The lady at the register doesn’t even blink, probably too tired to care that some teenage girl is ordering black coffee like it’s a school night and not past midnight.

Dean’s sitting in the corner booth, elbows on the table, nursing a half-empty soda while Sam sleeps against his duffle bag across from him. Dad’s out on a hunt—left them here with instructions to stay put—and Dean had every intention of doing just that.

And then you happened.

He watches as you lean against the counter, tapping your fingers on the cheap Formica surface, eyes sharp as you scan the diner. You look... tough. Not in the way that the girls at his school pretend to be when they talk about how they’d totally punch someone if they had to. No, you look really tough, like you’ve seen the same kind of crap he has, like you know things. Your jacket has a tear near the shoulder, your jeans are streaked with dirt, and there’s something tucked into the waistband at the small of your back—he’d bet anything it’s a knife.

You’re a hunter.

And you’re his age.

Dean swallows, trying not to let his brain short-circuit over that fact alone. He’s spent his whole life surrounded by adults in this job, trailing after his dad and Bobby, occasionally meeting older hunters who treated him like a kid no matter how many hunts he’s been on. But you? You get it.

He should probably say something. Introduce yourself, Winchester, he tells himself, but his body doesn’t seem to be getting the message.

Then, as if the universe is hell-bent on making him look stupid, you glance his way—and catch him staring.

Dean whips his gaze down to his drink like it suddenly contains the answers to the universe. His heart does something weird in his chest, something that definitely has nothing to do with the fact that you just looked right at him.

When he chances a glance back up, you’re smirking. Smirking.

Oh, he’s so screwed.

Pushing off the counter, you grab your coffee and make a beeline for his booth like you’ve already made up your mind about something. You slide into the seat across from him—right next to Sam’s sleeping form—and raise an eyebrow.

“You got a staring problem, Winchester?”

Dean blinks. Wait, what?

“You—I—how do you—?” He fumbles, the easy confidence he usually carries with girls suddenly nowhere to be found.

Your smirk deepens. “Your dad’s kind of famous in the hunter circuit. John Winchester’s kids aren't exactly a mystery.”

Dean clears his throat, straightening up like that’ll somehow make him look cooler. “Yeah, well. Guess that makes two of us. Who the hell are you?”

“You can call me (Y/N),” you say, taking a sip of your coffee. “Just rolled into town. Heard there was some vamp activity nearby, figured I’d check it out.”

Dean raises an eyebrow. “On your own?”

“Duh,” you say, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve been doing this since I was a kid. And I don’t do babysitters.”

Dean huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well. That makes two of us.”

For a second, there’s a beat of silence. And then you tilt your head at him, eyes flicking over his face like you’re studying him, and something about that makes Dean’s stomach flip.

“You’re not what I expected,” you say.

Dean squints. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. Thought you’d be taller.”

Dean sputters. “I—what—I’m six feet tall!”

You grin over the rim of your cup. “Sure you are.”

Dean groans, scrubbing a hand down his face, but he can’t stop the chuckle that escapes him. You’re something else. And he kind of likes that.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @funkenniffler ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @lovewolfspirit ⋆ @kayleighwinchester ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @cursednevermore ⋆ @onelonelybitch ⋆ @americanvenom13 ⋆ @iluvdeanwinchester ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @devilslittlehelper ⋆ @cloverleaf20 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7 ⋆ @beakaleak32 ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @pwin098 ⋆ @lacysretribution ⋆ @globetrotter28 ⋆ @i-love-gvf ⋆ @lemonswinchester ⋆ @4k1vrr ⋆ @bejeweledinterludes ( continues in the comments )

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #teen dean winchester #supernatural #.docx #.req

452 notes · View notes

s0urw00lf · 24 days ago

Text

𝑺0𝒖𝒓’𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

╰┈➤ Supernatural,

╰┈➤ Marvel,

╰┈➤ Maze runner,

╰┈➤ The vampire diaries,

╰┈➤ Teen wolf,

╰┈➤ Top gun,

╰┈➤ Harry Potter,

╰┈➤ Outer banks,

╰┈➤ Twilight

100 notes · View notes

curly-fry-3 · 2 months ago

Text

my moodboard for my dean Winchester x teen! daughter! reader series (I have no idea where to start so I thought making a moodboard would help) *it didnt help y'all send in a storyline you wanna see*

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #dean winchester x daughter!reader #dean Winchester x teen!reader #y'all please send requests

74 notes · View notes

alessandra-14 · 7 months ago

Text

Not as planned

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

John Winchester x daughter!reader

Summery: You failed a hunt and your father is very disappointed. He always thought little of you. And now he is really done with you. But luckily your older brother is here to comfort you

Trigger warning: John Winchester 🤢, swear words, use of Y/N

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: This is my very first story. I hope that you guys like it. Please let me know what I can do better. And also english is not my first language and you will be able to tell. I'm sorry about that!

You have been begging your father to go on a hunt with him for months now. He never agreed. John was firmly convinced that you would never be able to keep up with it. Yet you never stopped trying to prove to him that you are made for the hunting life.

Now that Sam is gone of to college and Dean is the only one left accompanying John on hunts, he decided to give you a chance to prove yourself. He could use some extra help from time to time.

That's how you found yourself in your current position. Cold and covered in vampire blood. John standing in front of you screaming at you like his life depends on it. But you don't hear it. Your ears are ringing and your gaze is stuck on the dead headless body laying ten feet away from you.

That headless body laying disgracefully in the dirty ground was a girl you once knew. Maria. You have only met her four days ago. She was staying in the motel room next to yours. She was your first friend.

But now she is dead. Died by the hands of no other than John Winchester.

Maria was one of them. How could you have been so stupid? You should have seen the signs! But you were so happy and excited that you finally found someone your age who you can hang out with, that you didn't pay attention to the suspicious way she acted.

At some point through your father's lecture you felt his hand forcefully grab your jaw, taking your gaze away from Maria and insted set it on his harshly cold glare.

"You fucking look at me when I talk to you Y/N"

You flinched hard at his cruel tone. However you don't say anything in return. Your father tugged roughly on your jaw again.

"Did you understand what I just said?! This whole thing could have been mostly avoided if you wouldn't be so stupid! " His eyes express a deep burning fury towards you. "Yes sir" You don't dare to call him anything other than sir. Not after what happened. Not after tonight

"Good. Now go back to the car. I don't want to see your face right now. You are a disgrace at this point" You can hear the clear disgust in your father's voice. So you numbly turn around and walk back to the Impala. His words keep replaying in your head.

Deep in your heart you always knew that John only tolerates you when necessary. After all John Winchester never wanted a daughter, especially not a weak one.

You sit in utter silence. Cold tears dangerously close to rolling down your blood covered cheeks. But you suppress it. To afraid that your father might come back at any second and see you crying. To afraid that he would lash out on you again. But your thoughts get interrupted by the car door slamming close and John sitting down on the drivers seat. He doesn't say a thing instead he starts driving off to the direction of the Motel. You sit completely still, trying to make yourself as small as possible. Fearing what he may do if you did move even an inch.

Your father drops you off in front of the Motel before storming away, probably to the local Bar. The first person you see once you enter your Motel room is Dean laying on the bed watching TV. You simply walk past him to get to the bathroom so you can finally scrub all the blood of your skin.

"What in God's name happened to you Y/N? and where the hell is dad?" A worried Dean says frantically as he walks over to you and gently grabs your arm. However you pay him no mind and instead you pull your arm away from his grasp and walk past him to the bathroom and close the door.

The hot water feels amazing against your aching muscles. You wish you could wash away all your thoughts. Even for just couple minutes.

A deep sigh escapes your lips as you exit the bathroom. Unfortunately Dean is impatiently waiting for you. "Kid you better tell me right now what happened" Dean's voice is stern and you can clearly tell he is not playing right now.

"The hunt went wrong." That's all you answer him while you sit down on the other bed. Dean rolls his eyes. "What do you mean the hunt went wrong? Be more specific" Dean's voice is still stern but once he sees your sad expression his tone turns softer.

"Maria the girl next door was a vampire. She pretty much used me. She is dead now" You keep it as short as possible. Your also keep your head down trying not to breakdown in front of your big brother.

"Oh shit. I'm sorry your first hunt went this bad. And sorry about Maria" He tries his best to reassure you but you just simply stay quiet head still down.

"Where is dad?"

Dean can see you shrug and how your expression turns dark. "I don't know. He is probably at a bar drinking everything away like always"

Dean sighs walk over to you. He sits down. "Y/N are- are you ok?" That's all it takes for you to just completely break down. Tears streaming down your face, loud sobs coming out your mouth.

Dean immediately wraps his arms around you. Even though he is not a big fan of physical touch, he can clearly tell that you need his comfort.

"Dad called me a disgrace" You sob out against his chest. Dean pulls away and gently grabs your face to make you look at him

"Hey Hey listen to me you are not a disgrace. You hear me?" His tone is a mix between firm and gentle at the same time. "What he said to you is completely wrong and he shouldn't have done it"

All you manage to do is nod and quietly sniffle. For Dean that's enough. He smiles softly at you. "Alright kid. How about we go to that store down the road and buy that favourite pie of yours? What do you say?"

A little smile immediately spreads out on your face at the mention of pie.

"Yes please what would be really amazing"

And of course without hesitation the two of you go get that pie and enjoy it quickly before John even comes back from the bar.

Your big brother has always known the best way to cheer you up whenever you needed it. He will always be there for you if you need it. No matter how big or small the problem is.

#dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester #slight angst #hurt/comfort #john winchester #John Winchester x daughter!reader #supernatural #teen!reader

174 notes · View notes

dingo-ate-my-hot-lettuce-crazy · 1 month ago

Text

busted

author's note: I've been doing really well lately, idk why my mind is filled with angst. the POV is so messy ngl because you see "your" thoughts but there's also a major focus on deans inner turmoil and observations...not my best work but I had to spill it out. I may come back to revisit it later but just wanted to preface that LOL also this is inspired by my bot!

summary: a call from the Greensboro Sherriff's Office causes your heart to stop dead in the middle of your apartment. you bring dean back into reality, as he takes in your reaction to his choices.

pairings: dean x reader

characters: dean (20 years old), reader (anywhere from 18 and up)

word count: 6.1K

warnings: cursing, slight injury (a bruise and a cut), John Winchester hate, HELLA angst, not exactly proof read good luck

-+-+-+-

NOVEMBER 14, 1999

sluggishly jabbing the key into the handle, you open the door to your studio apartment. you drag your feet in, missing the sight of your place, as it feels like you haven't been here for days- when in reality, it was only fourteen hours because of the double shift that you took.

throwing anything in your hands on the counter- keys, purse, leftover food- you make your way into the bedroom to change into loungewear instead of your work clothes. you couldn't focus on anything else until you stripped yourself of anything from work. an oversized grey shirt that reaches down to your upper thigh is accompanied by your black yoga shorts and fuzzy leopard print slippers. you couldn't bring yourself to care. all you want to do is eat and pass out, because you know you're up again tomorrow to open.

you didn't mind your work at all. there was a consistency about it that was rather soothing to you since hunting was anything but consistent. you only went on hunts every couple of months, since it was hard to take off more than a couple of days at a time.

once you sluggishly make your way back in the kitchen to grab your leftovers, a buzzing starts to sound from your bag. you rummage through it trying to find your pinging cell phone that seems to have been buried in a mountain of credit cards, mascara bottles, and god knows what else you've tossed in there.

upon finally snatching it, you hurriedly flip it open before it goes to voicemail and accept the call, with an drowsy, "hello?"

the line is still for a moment, before you hear, “is this," your full name is said across the line, an older woman with a gratingly, unenthusiastic tone.

you stand up straighter. the unsteady beat of your heart was the only thing you could focus on for a moment or two, thumping in your chest with unease. a bad feelings swells in your chest. you aren't sure who you would've given your number to recently. you don't give it out at all unless it's to close friends or family. your mind goes to the worst case scenarios. a hospital calling to tell you that someone is gravely injured.

or dead.

you swallow, a moment before you shakily respond. "uh, who's asking?"

the droning woman continues with an exasperated sigh. "you have a collect call from Greensboro Sheriff’s Department, do you accept the charges?”

perplexity racks your brain for about a second before you close your eyelids with a knowing sigh.

dean.

you try to keep the contents in your stomach down from the rush of nerves. you swear your legs feel like they're about to give out from underneath. you brace your hand on the counter, leaning into it. “yes,” you manage.

a click in the line signals that the operator is connecting the call, as it rings twice before a hoarse voice speaks your name. it is exactly who you figured.

“dean? what the hell's going on?” the panic slips out from your throat as you attempt to keep a level volume.

a waery sigh travels to your ears, and he sounds a lot less assured and cocky than he normally does. he comes across with a softer mumbling, a tone you haven't heard before.

"can you pick me up?”

he sounds tired. embarrassed almost. it didn't help tame your irregular heart rate.

you shake your head with worried incredulity even though he can't see you, "from greensboro? where's that- north carolina?"

"yes."

your eyes squeeze shut, trying to maintain a regular breathing pattern. it was all wrong. you wanted to be angry, and yell and scream and curse at him but this call, his defeated voice, and curt answers... it's not like this was on purpose, you remind yourself. he just makes bad decisions sometimes.

though, this is one probably takes the cake.

you blink your eyes open, a dreadful huff escaping, "god- it'll be a couple of hours before i get there." you glance to your wall clock hanging next to the kitchen cabinets. 10:44PM. you estimate you won't get there until 1:30 in the morning. god damn this.

"no, that's fine- it's...i'm sorry," dean barely raises his voice above a whisper. his strained, resigned voice breathes across the line as he continues, "i didn't know who else to call."

oddly enough, you're genuinely thankful. given that dean was more of an 'i'll do it myself' guy, you are relieved to know that he called you instead of allowing himself to spend a night or two in jail. sure, this is a major problem to deal with, he's in a fucking holding cell at the sheriff's office right now, and you're hours away from having to drive to bail him out.

but he did call for you.

the anger isn't quite faded, but it's pushed to the back of your mind, as you grip the phone a bit tighter, your voice getting stronger again, "just- it's okay. i'm glad you called me. i'm on my way, just- god, don't get into any more trouble while you're there." you're already halfway out the door with a map in your hand as you scold him over the phone.

"i won't, i won't." he ensures tightly, before quietly adding "drive safe, sweetheart."

you utter a quick bye as you hang up, heading to your car parked outside the apartment building.

you can't say that you weren't aware of what you were signing up for when you started dating him. you knew exactly what you were getting into. and it was hard. he's not always around, and when he does show up, more often than not he's battered and bruised. although you take pride in the fact that he shows up to you when he can. it's hard to get close to him, so you take anything you can get when it comes to helping him. and when he is around...you forget how to act. he is unlike anyone you've ever met. he's got this wicked charm and sense of humor that you adore. he is selfless to a fault, putting everyone before himself. he cares deeply for those around him, even though it's not always in plain sight. he's surprisingly romantic- though some times you do have to remind him of what boyfriends do. being one of his first "long-term" girlfriends means that he's doing a lot of learning. and he does learn, you admit, and he makes you happy.

so you keep replaying these thoughts in your head as you curse his name on the three hour drive to Greensboro.

-+-+-+-

only when you park at the sheriff's department is when you realize you never changed. you were still in your lounge clothes from earlier. a funny thing to make note of, but your thoughts were so scattered right now from the evening's events that you couldn't care to linger on the topic.

you walk through the front doors to an eerie and dim-lit waiting room. one officer behind a guarded cubicle shifts his glance to you. you slowly walk up to the desk, trying to hide your uncertainty, seeming as you've never picked up anyone from a holding cell before. you speak up, "uhh- evening...i'm here to bail out dean. he was brought in today..." you left out his last name, hoping that they hadn't got his legal name and that maybe he was using a coverup.

the officer, a balding guy in his mid-forties (if you had to guess), clicks his tongue as he files through a comically large binder, skimming through until he reaches the page with dean's information. "yup. we got 'im. take this. fill it out. he's processed already, so we just need a check and some info and we'll send him on his way."

he hands you a clipboard with a couple of pages of paper and a pen, asking for some of your identification and background. you flash him with a quick, forced smile as you take it over to one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs in the lobby.

you stand up and hand it back to the officer from the slit in the plastic guard. you notice a badge on his chest that reads "WADE", as he just stares at the chunky computer that his eyes seem to be glued to. you clear your throat, offering the clipboard and papers in further, along with a check for $300.

dean better be damn lucky i have a savings...

"fantastic," although, the enthusiasm obviously didn't reach to his expression as he printed out a receipt, on an obnoxiously loud printer. he slides it through slit and exasperatedly groans as he stands from his seat. once the officer grabs keys from the desk, he shuffles over to the hallway with a pressed, "cyom'on."

you follow behind him with an awkward silence. the only noises to be heard were the echoes of his boots booming with each step, and his occasional throat-clearing. he swings the key ring around his finger with soft, metal clinking and slows down at one of the locked doors.

this room is full of other desks occupied by a small handful of other police officers at their stations filling out paperwork. one or two glance up to you, but it's short-lived.

"wait here and i'll grab 'im," he holds out his palm, signaling for you to stop behind him, as he disappeared through another set of doors.

you are for sure angry with dean, but the way the cop said "grab 'im" makes the protective bones in your body activate. it sounded too aggressive, even though you knew dean could be quite the handful.

he was your handful, and you have to remember that. when you answered the phone call, you assumed the worst, which was that he was dead. and he's not, thankfully. you just have to remember that this night could have been much worse.

you take in a long inhale, sitting on the edge of one of the chairs. you lean your head in your hands, the exhaustion taking you out by the minute. and it didn't help that you're out there for another fifteen minutes before you hear the same door open with a second pair of footsteps. you stand up immediately and exhale in relief, and all negative feelings are spared for the moment when you watch dean trudge in front of the officer with a fresh, red-pigmented bruise forming on his left cheek with a small cut paired at the center of impact. his eyes look glossed over from probable sleep deprivation, as his strides are more lethargic than you're used to seeing.

"this the guy you want?" he points lazily, double-checking as he looks at you unimpressed.

you usher yourself over to them, confirming with a sharp, "yep."

although despite your tone and your blank face, you couldn't help but instinctually reach out to dean and bring him in for a firm embrace.

he obviously wasn't expecting it, as he grunts from your grip on him, and he raises a surprised brow but puts his right arm around you as he swallows down his own emotions. his gravelly assurance reaches your ears, "i'm fine."

you pull away with a disbelieving scowl, reaching a hand up to the side of his face and turning it so you can see the little souvenir he received from this experience.

"what's this." you deadpan, laced with a bit of a challenging bite to it.

dean sets his jaw as you hold it in place, avoiding your gaze as he grates out a dismissive, "nothin'."

you let go of him, shaking your head. your expression morphing into a controlled irritation and worry.

"son," officer wade impatiently calls from the desk a couple of feet away. he slides a paper towards the edge of his desk with the tips of his fingers, "fill this out for us while i git the rest of your belongin's and such."

dean lets out a quick huff of air, as he turns to the cop leaving their vicinity, "yes sir, officer krupke." he mumbles under his breath, which in turn gets him a backhand on his arm from you. he whips his head to you with shocking amount of surprise, as you eye him with a stern look that said "you better fucking watch yourself". dean rubs his arm slightly and widens his eyes briefly before sitting down at the chair across from the desk, writing on the bail acknowledgement sheet.

after a little while, dean turns his head to you, darting his tongue out to wet his lips before he hesitantly asks, "hey, uh...did they give you an amount for bail?"

you take a deep breath in, grinding your teeth as you avoid his gaze before you numbly answer, "it was $300, dean."

he gulps. his eyebrows flash up in shock and be blinks a couple times, and gives you another glance, "damn. thanks for covering me."

"just fill out the paper." there wasn't any attitude behind it. just clear exhaustion.

he looks at you funny, like he didn't expect you to be this terse. he takes a breath, and huffs a bit of it out, bringing the pen to the designated lines.

after about ten minutes of silence, officer wade drops off a plastic bag of personal items of dean's with a sharpie label on it. he drops it on the desk unceremoniously, bringing dean's attention to him.

"if that's all done, you can git." he points to the doors leading out, "but i don't wanna see you back in here or we'll have problems. y'understand?"

you let out a chide scoff directed at dean, answering for him, "trust me. he won't be back here. thank you, officer wade."

he dips his head in acknowledgement. dean scuffs the chair backwards as he eyes the cop, and he stands up slowly and with a slight threat in his look still.

you hurriedly walk down the hallways of the sheriff's department, not even looking back to dean.

now...

now is when the anger starts to simmer a bit.

you're a couple of feet ahead of dean as you push the door open with more force than necessary, but you figure it might be better than taking it out on dean after he just was released from the cell.

and you can't tell if he knows you're upset- or if he knows and he doesn't want to pay attention to the fact.

"listen, i'll pay you back every penny of that bail, alright?" dean catches up to your strides quickly as you basically dart to your parked car.

you bite your cheek, an unresponsive scowl still on your face after dean's amendment to the situation.

the uncomfortable silence is something that dean wasn't used to between you guys. "it was absolute torture in there. i didn't think what i did was that bad. but then they started playing the BeeGees on the radio in there-"

you stop halfway to the car, and dean almost smacks into your back. you shake your head with disbelief, your lips twitching with aggravation. yet your tone is scarily even and low as you glance to him, "how fucking dare you make jokes right now. after i just drove three hours to get you at one a.m. after my fourteen-hour shift. from jail."

and that did it. he got quiet real quick. you almost feel bad, because his face immediately falls, and he resembled a kicked puppy, even with all the effort in the world to hold up his "everything's peachy" facade. he can barely scoff, unknowing of what to say at all.

you open your mouth to say something else, but it dies off, and all you do is turn around and head back to the car. once you stick the key into the handle of the driver's seat, you unlock it for dean as you both sink into your seats. closing the door where all the negative energy is contained, and stuffy, and hard to vent out.

"where's your car, dean."

he tucks his head down slightly, carefully glancing to you for a moment before he mumbles like a kid, "it's not with me. dad has it with sammy, a couple of states away."

that piques your concern, and you brave it and look to him as you ask, "w-where are you staying then?"

dean nods in a general direction in front of them, "just at a motel near downtown."

john left his eldest son, who is still only twenty, in a shitty part of town with no car, to stay at a dingy motel by himself.

you wish you could say you were surprised.

you sigh, disappointedly. "where..." you begin to buckle your seatbelt, and put the key into the ignition.

the car roars to life, and dean answers flatly, "it's called Morrison's Motel, on Holbrook, Street or somethin'."

you place your right hand on the back of the passenger seat, leaning on it so you could angle yourself backwards while backing out of the parking spot. once you're able to get back into drive and onto the main road, you announce to dean, "you're gonna grab your stuff and come back with me."

his eyebrows furrow with intense confusion, "what?"

"you're grabbing your stuff," you break apart the words with a bit of an edge leaving no room for argument, "then you're coming back to my apartment."

he stares at you in disbelief for a bit. he doesn't argue, but he's unsure if he wants to.

on one hand it was you. you're his everything. and you always took care of him. when he's come by your apartment after hunts, you feed him, heal him, make love to him, talk to him- whatever he needs.

on the other hand... it was you. and you are royally pissed.

he despises the fact that he feels like a child right now. he knows the game you're playing right now, and he loathes it. it doesn't exactly "work" for him. this intense, condemning attitude where you think you know what's good for him. what's better for him. he's heard talks of similar nature and he's dismissed them, because it get's nowhere. his stubborn ass hardly gives thought to what's better for himself. his brain chemistry is practically permanently altered to do what's best for anyone else but himself.

and you were damn determined that you would change that.

not today, and not tomorrow. but you needed that to happen for him.

he sinks into the seat, marinating in his own irritation at the fact that he practically has to deal with this situation. it definitely won't be any better to avoid it. he knows better than to try and get away with anything from you. nor does he want you to resent him.

he knows he fucked up.

once you park outside of his motel, you unlock the door from inside the car. you wordlessly allow him to get out, and collect his duffel and whatever else he had been left with. he checks out of the motel, and he joins you back in the car, closing the door with a slightly irked slam.

you don't pay attention to it, taking off the highway. back home.

-+-+-+-

the silence stretched for the entire three-hour ride. so much so that you didn't even notice that dean fell asleep against the door. you turn and pull the key out of the ignition once your in front of your apartment building, just staring at him for a moment.

he looks exhausted. his eyes had darker bags around them, and he didn't even look comfortable the way his neck is positioned. you were sure going to jail for a night was enough to wear you down from stress alone. he came off aloof when you picked him up, sure, but you know dean. you know that he's not really going to show you everything he's really feeling. you can only imagine how he's been since his dad just abandoned him at the motel.

he doesn't really do well with being alone, you've noticed.

and curse your empathy because the pit in your stomach had settled a bit, and you've calmed down some. you reach a hand out too his bicep. his arms were somehow crossed in his sleep. you barely touch him, and he inhales deeply before jolting slightly against the seat.

"easy," you tell him, not as gentle as you normally would but still you try to disarm him. "c'mon. let's go."

he blinks himself awake, clearly struggling to come back to the present. he jerks his head to the passenger door that you've opened, with a little impatience, and he lets out a tired huff as he climbs out.

once you reach your front door, it opens to the living space dean remembered it to be. he really liked your place. it was simple, and small, for sure, but you didn't require a lot of space. the occasional decoration scatters on the walls and tables throughout, adding a touch of home to your space. dean usually feels at home here.

but for once, he wasn't exactly sure what to do with himself.

he hovers by the door, and you've already taken off to drop your keys and purse on the kitchen counter. you don't yet look him in the eyes.

"come here, please."

he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, expecting a lecture or something. he rests his hands on his arms again, keeping his demeanor closed-off, while he watches you shed your things in the kitchen. and he's dumbstruck again by you.

"do you need an icepack?" you offer.

he swallows, almost forgetting about his bruised cheek, "i'm fine."

you turn yourself to face him, matching his stance with no real emotion displaying on your face, "when's the last time you ate?"

he scoffs defensively this time, lifting his shoulders tensely, "I don't know...today- or yesterday or whatever." he didn't actually eat more than a gas station pizza slice that day.

you note his attitude but neglect it, walking over to the fridge, moving around a couple of loose bottles and containers. you stand on the top of your toes to reach to the back of the top shelf, grabbing a container of macaroni and cheese you had made the other night, along with left-over rotisserie chicken. it wasn't exactly a home-cooked meal, but it's mostly better than what dean normally has.

you pull apart the chicken and silently start putting it on a plate that you grabbed from one of the cabinets, and scoop out some of the mac and cheese on there as well. you throw it in the microwave for a minute, leaning against the counter with your hip with no other words.

dean forfeits his indirect protest at your mother-henning and sits at your miniature table-for-two in the corner of the kitchen. he slumps, resting his back on the wall while he's in the chair, and his legs splay outward, ninety degrees away from the table as he keeps his gaze to the floor. or wall. or anything besides you, really.

the microwave dings and you bring the plate over to him with a fork stuffed underneath the food. you ungraciously drop it in front of him, letting the ceramic plate smack the table a bit. dean casts a quick glance to you before staring straight ahead, not wanting to acknowledge the food in front of him. because if he did, that would entail that he was hungry, like any other human being. that he can starve and that he had been since his dad left.

but it smells fucking good.

he takes a breath, relenting as he grabs a fork and mumbles a quick "thanks". he stirs it around for a couple of moments before taking massive bites at a time.

and you knew he was hungry. you know he doesn't take care of himself on the road. that's why you loved when he would stop by in between hunts. you were comforted by the fact that he ate something more than a a bag of chips and a granola bar when he would stop by.

you don't say anything, as you put away the containers of food and clean up the kitchen some. by the time you're done, you lean against the refrigerator with your eyes on dean.

you couldn't let go of this. you know you won't be able to sleep regardless of tonight, but at least you'll have answers.

"you wanna tell me what happened?" you start, and there's no bite in your tone. it's a simple question.

and with that in mind, dean's response really set you off.

he pauses on his last couple of bites of food, and shakes his head with a short-tempered snort, "you signed the bail papers, didn't you? i'm sure it said why."

your blood boils and your unable to keep the poker face you've been maintaining. you stalk closer to dean, kicking yourself off the fridge. "you know what dean, i did sign the papers for you, so i don't understand why you're the one who's got attitude here. you know what else I did? i paid. for. your. bail. that was three-hundred fucking dollars, dean. do you think i'm made of cash-"

dean brings himself forward and sets his forearms down on the table, causing the ceramic plate to clink at his motion as his voice rises with defense. he looks you dead in the eyes as he reiterates, "i said i'm gonna pay you back. i intend to keep my word on that."

"that doesn't fix the situation, dean!" you retort as your voice starts to seethe with emotion, "you got arrested. i drove three hours after a fourteen hour shift to pick you up, so you don't get to be angry with me."

"i'm sorry, okay?" he snaps loudly, standing up briskly causing the chair to scuff backwards against the floor. "getting arrested wasn't exactly on my agenda for today either."

"you think that makes this more acceptable? because you didn't mean to get arrested?"

he shrugs his shoulders with a hardened expression on his face, "what do you want me to say?

you scowl harshly, like it was obvious. "i want a goddamn explanation! getting arrested doesn't happen on your typical Tuesday, dean."

"i'm a hunter," he says your name with pronounced snark, "there's no such thing as 'typical' for us!"

"were you on a hunt?"

your question stuns him for a second. "I- well," he stumbles, at a loss for words, "not exactly, but-"

"no." your voice is low and dangerous, "you weren't on a hunt. disorderly conduct and false identification were the charges. so this has jack shit to do with hunting." you take a couple of steps closer to him, pointing to him with a thundered glare, "you were at a bar, using a fake ID, illegally drinking and fighting. that is a whole other level of reckless for you, dean."

he matches your intensity and gets closer to you so that you are only about two feet apart. "i wasn't drinking recreationally- i was blending in while hustling pool money! they didn't like that I won, so they tried to start something. they did, not me. there's the whole explanation- are you happy now?"

your voice falters at his spat as you tremble with emotion, face morphing more into distress than anger, "no! no, i'm not happy. do i look happy?"

dean huffs, and he doesn't respond at first. his face neutralizes slightly before he breaks eye contact with you and rubs a hands down his face as he paces away from where he stood.

"jesus christ, look-" he turns back to you with a controlled, firm expression, "they let me off with just a fine. i don't even have to go to fucking court so i don't get why are you turning this into such a big deal-"

"do you know how worried I was when I picked up the phone to hear from the police station?"

the sentence resounds against the walls of your apartment. and dean freezes, the only thing moving is his chest which rises up and down from the overload of his frustrations. for a moment, you could hear the honks and revs in traffic, the buzzing hum of the air conditioning, and the whir of the electronics and appliances around you with how quiet it became.

"a shiver ran down my fucking spine, dean. i felt like my heart stopped. i was damn near shaking when they called. i didn't know i-if they were calling to say they found your body, or if you were hurt, dean. i was scared- i was so fucking scared. why- why, why, why can't you see that I'm worried about you? i don't want to sit here and berate you for your choices, because yes, this was a fuck-up but i know you know better and i know that you're beating yourself up for it too." for a brief second, you wonder to yourself why dean's face had dramatically gentled into a look of pained concern, and you didn't realize up until that moment that you had streams of tears down your face.

then you notice that your breath hitches, and the lump in your throat weakens your speech. "i don't want to sit here and lecture, and yell- i just don't want to feel that again-" your words get cut off in a sobbing squeak.

"okay, okay," dean croons and suddenly his arms are wrapped around you, and your face is buried into his chest. your breath heaves as you try to reign back control on your body, and you want to be angry at dean, but his hands hold onto you so tight and he brings his mouth to the crown of your head, and one of his hands to your hair. he mumbles a couple of apologies, his own voice getting caught as he watches you crumble into him.

"i'm sorry- hey, i'm sorry. i-" you can feel him shake his head above you as he rubs your upper arm and shoulder, "i should've realized- i didn't know you were that worried. i-" dean curses to himself as he feels you shake in his grasp, and he rubs your arm with affection. "sweetheart, i'm so sorry. i never wanted you to worry like that..."

your hands fist the back of his shirt as you try to hide your face into him, your voice slightly muffled, "i'm not bothered worrying about you- but when it's shit like this-"

"no- sweetheart, i- yeah. i get it, i do. it was stupid, okay? it won't happen again." his guilt-laced promise almost breaks its way through to you.

you pull yourself off of dean as he reluctantly lets go of you, not quite looking into his eyes as you bring a hand to wipe your face. you look down, sniffling as you hoarsely choked out, "damn straight it won't."

dean's shoulder's sag, as the events of tonight seem to finally wash over him, as he sees the tolls that it took on you. his hands find his way to your shoulders again, and he tilts his head to try and find your gaze. "thank you. for picking me up, and feeding me, and-and worrying, and driving all that way to pick up my dumb-ass. you shouldn't've had to."

you sniff, bringing your head up but avoid his gaze still. "it's fine."

"no, it's not...and i knew it wasn't and i fought you on it anyways. I just..." dean sighs as he unwillingly admits, "money's tight. dad didn't leave me much when he took off, so i was just trying to make some extra cash. it's just stress- and i didn't mean to get angry with you. i'm not angry with you..."

you look to him then, your face vulnerable and open, "why didn't you ask me for help?"

he scoffs definitively, "i'm not taking your money."

"it costed you an extra $300 to not ask for my help in the first place, dean. i would've rather given it to you then have you borrow it from me in this case." you remind him, and he thinks it over. regret and shame written all over his face.

"you want me to forgive you?"

dean blinks at you, his brows furrowing in confusion quickly before answering, "yeah- i do."

"the next time you find yourself like this- hell, when you need help at all- you call me. and i can't say that i'll always be able to but i will do my damndest to try." you assert sincerely.

he bites his lip, obviously not entirely wanting to admit to needing your help. but for you, he's willing to do anything to keep you pleased.

"alright. i will." his eyebrows slightly lower, serious with his promise to you.

"good," you nod, feeling better about the situation. not all better, but it was baby steps. you bring a hand to his elbow, giving it a gentle squeeze as you utter, "it's late. you should get to bed. you could use the rest."

"yeah." he replies in a whisper, "you too."

you gesture to the bedroom with the cock of your head as he follows behind you like a puppy. you bring your hands to your face, trying wipe away any emotion that remained from the fight. you walk to the adjourning bathroom as you wearily mention to dean, "i need to wash my face, go ahead and change if you need to."

"okay," he replies softly. it's that same quiet tone your not used to.

as you rinse your face from the stress of the evening, you let the cold water cleanse you, allowing yourself to focus on the frigid, november water. it washes over you, and you feel yourself grow sluggish as your mind becomes quieter with every breath you take, and your heart beat slows for the first time in the night.

you pat your face dry with a towel hanging on your wall, and walk out as your met with dean on the bed with the lamp on next to him. he's changed into his sweatpants that he's left here before, along with a plain black t-shirt. his back rests against the headboard as his knees are drawn up. his hands ruffle through his hair before bringing the heel of his palms to rub circles against his forehead. he smooths his hair out quickly as he notices your appearance again, and immediately lays his feet down on the bed, and waits to see if you'll join him.

you shuffle over to your side of the bed, getting under the covers.

"you can turn off the lamp now." you say after adjusting, your voice barely above a whisper.

"right," he reaches over to click the lamp off, and scoots further down so that his head is resting on a pillow.

the silence eats away at you both, before dean speaks up first, "are you still angry?"

you inhale deeply, moving onto your side so that you're facing dean. you lean down and find his lips through the moonlight shining through the room. and of course, he reciprocates the kiss with a bit of surprise.

"yes," you preface, before continuing with a gentle gaze, "but i forgive you, and i still care about you. and even though i'm mad, i'd rather have you next to me then not at all."

dean blinks a couple times, nodding a bit before one side of his lips twitches upwards. this time, it's his turn to kiss you, as he pushes onto his elbow, to meet your lips with his, taking his time. when he lays back down, he lovingly studies your face, "thank you."

"you don't have to thank me for that. i'll care about you always...get some sleep, baby." your hand finds his forearm closest to you, as you give it a soft rub.

dean watches you through the dark as you settle back into the bed. but he doesn't close his eyes yet. after a couple of minutes, he feels you shift, and you sit up and grab his farthest hand, and take it with you as you lie back down, dragging his arm over yours.

his lips quirk into a smile, the first real one of the night, and moves to hold you against him.

now... now he closes his eyes.

89 notes · View notes

perseephoneee · 5 months ago

Text

⭑ FIC RECS ⭑ part II

↳ fic recs part I ↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist

it’s been a few months since I’ve shared fic recs, and tumblr won’t let me tag more people in the original post 😭

as a reminder— the kindest thing you can do for writers is reblog and comment :) it’s an exhausting job and they deserve your love

VAMPIRE DIARIES

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KOL MIKAELSON

miscommunication @captainsophiestark

kinktobers 1 & 2 *smut* @wholoveseggs

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KLAUS MIKAELSON

spellbound *smut* @shrenvents

OUTER BANKS

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ JJ MAYBANK

linecook!jj *smut* @princessbrunette

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ RAFE CAMERON

bittersweet *smut* @nadvs

MARVEL

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ LOGAN HOWLETT

“you’re not her” @not-neverland06

relationship hcs @corrupt-fvcker

sugar, sugar *smut* @eupheme

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ STEVE ROGERS

watchful eyes *smut* @espinosaurusrexex

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ LOKI LAUFEYSON

as the clock strikes midnight *smut* (series) @cleo-fox

TEEN WOLF

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ ISAAC LAHEY

tell me you want this @fangirl-writes

STAR TREK

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ JAMES T KIRK

aos kirk @asgards-princess-of-mischief

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ LEONARD MCCOY

pining @toboldlygohome

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ PAVEL CHEKOV

heads up @captainsophiestark

SUPERNATURAL

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ CASTIEL

noises @womanhopper

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ DEAN WINCHESTER

better than pie *smut* @hintsofhoney

131 notes · View notes

imawreck · 2 months ago

Text

✨Prompt List✨

Hello my darling readers! I’ve decided to do a prompt list/writing challenge for myself with your help! Choose any of these 50 prompts (or leave one of your own), mix and match, and comment or leave an ask in my ask box! It can be any of these listed characters below. I will write NSFW 18+, but it depends on the content requested. I tend to write Fem!reader, but I can always substitute! Please don’t be afraid to reach out with your requests!

Disclaimer: I literally compiled this from many different Pinterest lists that I liked so most of them are from other lists that I went “ohhh that’s nice, I like that” and added to this one. Credit to those out there on the internet and their genius ideas.

💕Characters💕

The walking Dead

- Daryl Dixon

Teen Wolf

- Scott McCall

- Liam Dunbar

- Theo Raeken

- Stiles Stilinski

Marvel

- Bucky Barnes

- Loki Laufeyson

- Thor Odinson

- Steve Rogers

- Peter Parker (Tom or Andrew)

Vampire Diaries

- Elijah Mikaelson

- Damon Salvatore

- Kai Parker

Supernatural

- Dean Winchester

- Sam Winchester

- Castiel

👀 Tropes👀

Dads best friend

Enemies to lovers

Hurt/comfort

One bed

Fake dating

Bodyguard

Grumpy/sunshine

Secret dating

In love with the enemy

Forced proximity

Near death/injured

Soulmates

Age gap

Second chance

Love triangle

Stalker

Serial killer

Blackmail

One night stand

Marriage pact

Pen pals

🫶🏻Prompts 🫶🏻

“You think I’m going to leave you here?”

“You don’t deserve this… me.”

“You look pretty like this.”

“That’s my fucking Wife!”

“You really don’t know how much I love you?”

“ I like her. Like, really like her. But… she scares me a little.”

“Who made you the leader?”

“Im not pissed, this is just my face.”

“This thing we’ve got going on, it’s so much more than it ever used to be.”

“Why am I always your second option?”

“Get away! You’re hurting them!”

“Why wouldn’t I save you?”

“Stop biting that fucking lip!”

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Do you ever mean the things you say?”

“What are we?” “I… I’m not sure.”

“I’ll feel so much better if you let me walk you home.”

“It is my duty to take care of you, so stop forcing me away.”

“Why can’t you see what’s right in front of you?”

“Shh. Stop fussing, I’m braiding your hair.”

“Don’t be silly. I want to stay up with you.”

“Your bedhead is really cute.”

“Stop acting like you’re in love with me. I might actually start believing it.”

“You feel it too, don’t you?”

“Your parents/friends hate me. You do know that right?”

“My Ex won’t leave me alone, okay? I’m in desperate need of a diversion.”

“You’re bleeding all over my carpet.”

“I just want to be yours.”

“Nothing will take me from you.”

“When you love something, you protect it.”

“Can’t you go just five minutes without messing something up?”

“Dance with me?”

“Don’t… Don’t leave. Please.”

“I don’t know you anymore.”

“Can you keep holding my hand?”

“I think you’d look cuter with me.”

“I see the way you look at them.”

“I can be good, just give me another chance.”

“Do I make you nervous?”

“Me? As in…me?”

“You chose her.”

“How is it fair that when you protect people, you’re the hero, but when I protect people, I’m the monster?"

“I paid the price no one else was willing to pay.”

“Of all the people I had to be stuck in an elevator with, it had to be you.”

“Why is there a magic portal in the bathroom?”

“I dare you to kiss them.”

“Oh, you’re still alive?”

“I love you.” “That’s a bad life decision.”

“Please be quiet. I can’t even hear myself losing the will to live.”

“Interrupt my reading one more time, and this book will become a lethal weapon.”

50 notes · View notes

wendichester · 26 days ago

Text

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ so highschool³,

summary. strangely enough, dean will be staying in the same place for more than a week. it seems like you caught his eye

pairing. teen!dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 706

⋆.˚ ★— read part 1, part 2.

The weekend feels like a blur—days that blend together into one long sigh, each one passing with the same dull rhythm. But Monday morning hits different. You're dragging your feet through the halls, blinking against the early light, wishing for just a few more hours of sleep. The buzz of chatter is all around you, and the fluorescent lights hum overhead as you head to your locker.

When you reach it, your heart does a funny little flip. There he is. Dean Winchester. Of course, it’s him. Leaning against the metal, arms folded, that smile you can’t quite decide is charming or irritating stretched across his face. He’s the last person you need to see first thing in the morning.

But then again...

“What’s wrong with the universe today? You’re early for school,” you call out, voice still thick with sleep, though you try to sound unaffected. You give him a teasing grin as you pull your locker open.

Dean looks unfazed, his grin only widening. “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on you, sweetheart.” His voice is casual, but there’s a glint in his eyes—something that shivers down your spine in a way you don't quite understand. “Besides, I thought I’d get a head start on making your day just a little less… boring.”

You roll your eyes, trying to focus on grabbing your books instead of letting your thoughts wander too far. “Yeah, right. I bet I’m the highlight of your day.”

“You are,” he says, deadpan, and when you look at him, he’s way too serious. He winks right after, the mood light again, making your stomach flip in that annoying way it always does when he’s around.

You shut your locker with more force than necessary. “Right.”

Dean steps a little closer, not invading your space, but close enough to make you aware of every inch of him. His eyes drop to your lips for a moment, lingering just a touch too long before he looks back up at you. “Okay, okay. I get it. I’m irresistible. But hey, hear me out—you, me, lunch today?”

You stare at him, your hand paused in midair as you try to process what he just said. “Wait. Are you seriously asking me to lunch again? You’ve gotta be joking.”

Dean shrugs like it’s nothing, his cocky smile never leaving his face. “Who says I’m joking? Look, I’m just here to keep things interesting. You and lunch? Sounds like a winning combo to me. Plus, today is pizza day.”

You can’t help but laugh, but you play it off like you’re not impressed. “So, now you’re stalking me during school hours? What’s next, Dean? Showing up at my house?”

His grin only sharpens. “I’d probably look good on your doorstep. Maybe you should consider it.”

You raise your brows, pretending to think about it for a second, but not enough to let him know you’re tempted. “You’re really persistent, aren’t you?”

“Guilty as charged.” Dean winks, his tone light and playful. He’s standing just a little closer than you expect, his presence warm and, honestly, a little intoxicating. “So, what’s the verdict? Lunch with me?”

You give him a side glance, amused, trying not to let your heart race at how ridiculously confident he is. “Alright, alright, fine. But don’t think I’m impressed by your ‘charming’ ways, because I’m really not. Just don't want you to eat alone like a loser,” You tease.

“You're charmed, alright,” he replies, voice all smooth and cocky. He steps back, giving you a little more space, but not enough to really let you breathe. “So, I'll be waiting for you in the cafeteria. Or should I pick you up from your class?”

He's teasing. You know he is. But having him rush after his class so he can be there waiting for you when you get out of your class? Jesus, he's getting under your skin.

You roll your eyes, letting out a small huff. "Cafeteria is fine."

"It's date, then, sweetheart." He grins. "Best lunch hour of your life, I can promise you that."

You walk off, but Dean’s eyes follow you, and for some strange reason, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re already in way over your head.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #teen dean winchester #dean winchester fic #supernatural #.docx

160 notes · View notes

eepwtf · 5 months ago

Text

HALLOWEEN BOTS ´ཀ`

note: happy halloween!! and oh yeah!! more halloween bots , some of these are inspired by songs some by my brain. i hope you guys like these, i was going to add more but i got lazy 😞, might add more ( i say while knowing i wont )

𓉸 　　　╰ ﹒ kai parker ␥ hallows eve ノ

kai certainly went all out for halloween, decorating the house, and to top it off, he’d given in to your idea of matching costumes. he'd groaned, rolled his eyes, even muttered under his breath when you first suggested it, but somehow here he was, suited up to match. but when it came to candy, there was no compromise. he’d stacked bowls of it on the kitchen counter—no cheap stuff, either. all his favorites, an indulgent stash that he had no plans of sharing with the hordes of trick-or-treaters who might dare to knock. and of course, he dragged you along to sit on the couch and indulge into the horror movie marathon with him.

𓉸 　　　╰ ﹒ kai parker ␥ inside phone calls ノ

phone calls? sure, you’re all for those. phone calls from a smooth-talking stranger, especially late at night? even better. but phone calls from someone who’s also a killer—someone lurking in your house, who’s got a knife with your name on it? that’s where things start to get a little more complicated. but hey, he has a nice voice and you’re oh, so lonely from what kai can tell. and you have a nice body, god, these small blinds from your closet don’t really do justice for what he’s witnessing, but hey, he’ll take a free show of you stripping down anytime.

𓉸 　　　╰ ﹒ klaus mikaelson ␥ perversion 99 ノ

klaus wouldn’t dare call it perverse, not when you were dressed like that. it made sense now, the appeal of halloween, the thrill that had you buzzing with excitement over what he called a silly tradition. but now he was starting to understand. with you wrapped up in this dangerously enticing costume, it was impossible to think straight. the fabric clung to you in all the right places, practically begging for his eyes to linger, his hands to wander. he resisted at first, simply admiring the sight before him, the playful glint in your eyes that dared him to try. but klaus had never been one for restraint. finally, he made his move, fingers inching toward the edge of your costume, ready to pull it from your body like he’d been aching to do since the moment he laid eyes on you. but before he could make any real progress, you somehow managed to get it back up throwing him a half annoyed half amused look.

𓉸 　　　╰ ﹒ elijah mikaelson ␥ halloween cooking mess ノ

if elijah knew better—which he does—he’d think the house had been ambushed by a mischievous child on a halloween sugar rush. the evidence was everywhere, from flour dusting the countertops like a ghostly fog to sprinkles scattered like confetti on the floor. smears of chocolate and icing trailed across the counters, smeared together in abstract, sugary artwork. eijah could hardly tell if they were supposed to be cookies or some strange, deformed creatures. maybe ghosts? or perhaps a very experimental version of pumpkins? but there was something hauntingly charming about the way you'd gone about it. each cookie looked unique, each one a slightly different shape, as if you'd tried to craft them into adorable little halloween creatures but got sidetracked halfway through.

𓉸 　　　╰ ﹒ elijah mikaelson ␥ corpse bride ノ

you looked like you—the same person elijah had married. the familiar silver band on your finger testified to that, grounding him in the reality that you were, in fact, standing before him. but somehow, you were not you. there was an emptiness in your gaze, a hollowed, distant glint that robbed your eyes of their former light. a subtle, unsettling scent clung to you, something acrid and faintly metallic, laced with an unmistakable trace of decay. yet, you held onto him with an intensity that bordered on desperation. it was as though your fractured mind could recall only him—a beacon in the fog of your shattered recollections.

𓉸 　　　╰ ﹒ dean winchester ␥ mx sinister ノ

halloween parties weren’t his thing—too much noise, too many people—but this one came with a purpose. somewhere inside was a demon, feeding off the energy of the oblivious crowd. at least he could enjoy some things, like the candy—and the costumes, or lack thereof. he could easily get used to this part of the job. he even let a smirk creep onto his face when he saw a woman pass by in a devil costume that was more suggestive than sinister. it was easy to let his mind wander, just for a second. then, you appeared out of the crowd. dean’s gaze fixed on you, and his entire focus shifted. you wore a costume that was… well, maybe ‘costume’ wasn’t the right word. it was as much about what you weren’t wearing, as what you were. maybe the demon would just have to wait for a while, at least until he could charm that costume off you.

𓉸 　　　╰ ﹒ dean winchester ␥ teenage neceophillian love ノ

dead and okay, maybe somewhat hot? not deans type, at least that’s what he told himself. but when it came to you… well, those thoughts made it difficult. watching you bloody with sharp fangs, he should’ve just killed you, like countless others. yet, he stood there, cleaning up your mess, wiping the crimson off your mouth. the rational part of him, buried under the weight of his desire, reminded him that he was supposed to be the hunter here. he was supposed to kill creatures like you—mercilessly, without hesitation. and yet, here he was, staring at you like he was under some spell, some inexplicable fascination that kept him tethered to this moment, unable—or unwilling—to break free.

𓉸 　　　╰ ﹒ sam winchester ␥ 13 jack o’ lanterns ノ

sam knew, from the moment he saw halloween decorations creeping out of every corner, that there was no escape. you’d gone all-out this year, like a fiend possessed by the halloween spirit, turning your home into a spooky paradise. every inch of the house was draped in something ghostly or ghoulish. he had to admit, it was… impressive, in a way only you could pull off. now, here he was, seated with a carving knife in hand, elbows-deep in pumpkin guts, his own attempt looking a little… well, wonky.

𓉸 　　　╰ ﹒ tom hanniger ␥ from your windowsill ノ

it started off small, like most crushes do, tom thought it was normal. watching you from afar, taking in how you seemed so blissfully unaware of the green eyes following your every move. but small things have a habit of growing when you let them fester, and suddenly being too far away from you was not enough, now being able to see you this close—well, as close as he can from your windowsill of course. he was content, if only for a moment.

𓉸 　　　　　╰ ﹒ stiles stilinski ␥ claws and fangs ノ

vampires and werewolves don’t mix. it’s practically written into the dna of supernatural lore, and stiles finds himself agreeing with every ancient text about it. because—god—you reek. normally, he wouldn’t tolerate your presence, not in a million years, but here he is. side by side with you, wedged into the garish, pulsing chaos of a halloween party that’s far more “over the top” than he would have ever chosen for himself. stiles finds the whole scene obnoxious, crowded with fake vampires and cheap costumes. maybe he hated the idea of vampires and werewolves mixing. maybe your scent was like nails on a chalkboard to him. but here he was, next to you, the one part of the party he was more willing to tolerate than he’d ever admit.

𓉸 　　　　　　╰ ﹒ stiles stilinski ␥ the dead don’t rise ノ

it was a simple law of nature—one everyone knew and respected. the dead were supposed to stay dead, unmoving, silent, absent from the world of the living. but apparently, those assumptions didn’t apply to you. not that stiles was complaining, in fact he was utterly captivated by you. teaching you how to function again, it was amusing, how you would just stare and groan trying to mimic him.

𓉸 　　　　　　　　╰ ﹒ jennifer check ␥ pale skin , sharp fangs ノ

you were absolutely her favorite, jennifer had come to realize. once she noticed how similar you two were, sure, there was some differences between the two of you. one being well, she was a succubus and you were a vampire. and once the two of you got hungry? that was where the magic began. her gaze would fixate on the moment your fangs descended, gleaming dangerously as you closed in on your prey. you were intoxicating, an unholy vision with blood smeared against your lips, that crimson stain slipping down your chin like some twisted homage to the life you took. and fuck, did she want it to be her. she fantasized about the rough scrape of your fangs against her skin, the pinpoint sharpness pressing just beneath her pulse.

𓉸 　　　　　　　　╰ ﹒ billy and stu ␥ smile pretty f’me ノ

billy and stu were always up to something, a pair of wolves with an eye for danger—and an even sharper eye for you. it wasn't that you were naive; you were aware, acutely so. you knew what they wanted every time their eyes raked you, and well… you knew how to put on a show. that’s what made it fun. halloween night brought it to a head. the boys, true to their dramatic flair, arrived with a surprise. bringing vhs camera along to record them having fun with you, it was all harmless after all. you just happen to be their star for tonight, and all they wanted was for you to smile pretty for them.

138 notes · View notes