#you are fooling yourself dean

[youchangedmedestiel]

Yes it's in that fucking show!

Dean reacting after seeing the Destiel actors hugging in 10x05:

Also Dean four episodes later:

Me looking at Dean:

Also me: ARE YOU FUCKING KINDING ME? HAVE YOU SEEN THE BOTH OF YOU TOGETHER? HOW INSANE THIS ANGEL MAKES YOU? ARFHJZFIQJFQO! JUST DON'T, JUST STOP! YOU'RE MAKING ME SICK!

[xan-izme]

Double life 13 (ATSV x reader x batfam)

summary: You can't get a break. Not even for a second

TW: Angst, mental health issues, cursing, hallucinations, mentions of death

Bruce was the world's greatest detective. And a father. So, he was bound to pick up on a few things. He had suspicions of you hiding something. But he assumed it was due to it being an effect of losing your mother.

But ever since Jason began to stay at the manor longer than a day or two(which was surprising) he began to notice small things. He began to notice how you two would often be together. Not as often as you were with Damian of course. But wherever you were Jason was there as well.

He assumed you two were just getting along. And he was happy about that. But he would catch you two giving each other small knowing looks. The two of you whispering to each other or giving each other signals.

Yes, everyone else in the house does this with each other as well. But the way you and Jason would do it was more like a secret. A secret only you two would have with each other. Maybe it was some inside joke or some odd bonding thing you two had.

Bruce tried not to pry into your life too much. Especially after the argument you two had.

But the more he sat and thought about the argument instead of sulking. Something he said to you ticked you off. Of course, his words got you pissed, but he has this, itching feeling that his words meant far more than you led on.

So, he put you in therapy. And might have bribed the therapist to install a nanny-cam so he can see and listen in on your sessions. . . yes not his most honorable moment. But that itching feeling just kept growing and growing.

So, every session you had. He was watching. And he was slowly seeing you in a more, brighter light. You would laugh as you crack up jokes. Your smile made him smile. The way you would play with some of the toy's Mrs. Dean had warmed his heart. (He might have bought a few dozen plushies to give to you soon)

You spoke about him. And you had no resentment. You even spoke about how you wanted to apologize to him. How you felt like you were in the wrong.

Bruce honestly felt like he didn't deserve you at this point. You were so kindhearted. You spoke about him and everyone else with so much love.

But don't think Bruce didn't pick up those small moments of hesitations. When Mrs. Dean would try and dig deeper into you in any emotional way involving just you. There would be this, small pause that felt like more than a minute. The look in your eyes. The same look he saw you with at that party with your mother's side of the family.

He knows that look far too well.

You hate yourself.

This realization. Kind of broke him a little. His little girl hates herself. Why didn't he see this sooner? he feels like a fool. He's trying to piece everything together. Why would you hate yourself. Your perfect. A little broken. But that just makes Bruce love you more.

As he's trying to piece things together. To understand fully of what was going on with you. There were always blank spots that he couldn't fill in. This was a puzzle. I not a hard one but not easy either. He was able to dig deeper in on you.

He went as far as to hacking into your phone. Yes. His overstepping it but he wasn't going into your messages or socials. Only your call history and photos. It was very sad to see most of your recent calls were to your mother's number, of course those calls were not answered.

Your photos were filled with family pictures and- odd. Pictures that seemed to be in an almost hidden file was filled with unfamiliar faces. He scans the faces through his system. But he found nothing. That, that was odd.

Tim walked into the Batcave, he wanted to report to Bruce and tell him he was going to be playing games with you tonight instead of going out on patrol. As he walked down the stairs. He hears what sounds like a recording of a woman talking.

He's brow arched up curiously as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Bruce doesn't seem to notice him yet.

"You don't seem to be the type to hold a grudge."

The voice of the woman who spoke just now was unfamiliar to Tim.

"Oh no. I hold grudges."

Another voice spoke. Younger. It sounded a lot like. . .

"If I fully give you my trust and loyalty. I expect it not to be broken or abused."

It was you. A recording of you speaking to someone. Why would Bruce be listening to this.

"Uh . . .Bruce?" Tim finally spoke up. Bruce turns around, looking a little like he was caught off guard. Too focused on listening to the recording. Tim walked closer looking confused.

"What are you-" Tim was cut off as your voice was heard once again.

"If I give my trust and loyalty to someone. I give them my heart."

Tim frowns. He's realizing what Bruce was listening to. "Is that- Are you spying on Y/n's therapy sessions?"

Bruce was quick to shut off the recording. Letting out a deep sigh.

"Weren't you the one who didn't want us to invade her privacy?" Tim was reasonable. You going to therapy is actually a good thing, because at least someone in their family was going to therapy.

But just to find out Bruce was spying on your sessions was just. . . disappointing.

"For a good reason." Bruces statement just angered Tim even more.

"Good reason? Bruce, she's a 16-year-old girl who's pouring her heart out to someone you paid to listen to her problems. If you were going to just going to do this. Talking to her would have been a better option." Tim crossed his arms with a deep frown.

"She won't talk to me Tim. . . she's hiding something." Bruce sighed as he looked back down at the recording.

"That doesn't mean you should be doing whatever this is!"

As Tim and Bruce argued, Dick came down with a box of pizza and a smile.

"Hey, I brought Pizza-" Dick cut himself off as he stumbled upon Tim and Bruce arguing.

"Whoa, whoa. What's going on here?" Dick walks up to the two with a slight nervous smile. Tim doesn't look all too happy.

"He's been spying on Y/n's therapy sessions!" Tim's words caused Dick's smile to slowly drop.

"Oh. . . oh Bruce that's not. . ."

Dick was trying so hard not to give Bruce a look of hard judgment. But in his attempt to do that his face forms cringe.

A school trip to a museum was giving you Daja'vu from your last field trip. Didn't go well due to the result of getting bitten by a spider and having long-lasting trauma from there on out.

You stared at a painting, a spider devouring a butterfly who was unfortunate enough to be caught in its web.

"Kind of a sad painting don't you think?" Someone spoke up.

You turn your head and see Jason. You don't seem surprised; you slowly turn back to the painting.

"Didn't think paint museums were your thing." You say as your eyes stayed trained on the spider eating the poor butterfly. Jason couldn't help but chuckle. "What do you think my thing is exactly?" He asks as he tilts his head while staring at the painting with you.

"Bird cage maybe. Isn't that where a bird like you should be?" You spoke almost mockingly. "Actually, I feel like that painting over there would be more of your taste." Your head jesters to a painting behind the two of you. Jason glanced back to see a painting of a bird being attacked by a black snake with green eyes.

What was painfully ironic about the painting, was that the bird was a robin.

". . ." That was a personal jab. Jason would usually get angry and curse someone out. But this was you, and he honestly understands your hate. Even when you say something cruel, he knows it's not aimed to him directly. But to yourself.

Jason stared back at the painting of the spider and butterfly. Then stared at you. You stared at the painting with, sympathy . . .?

No. Thats not it. Empathy maybe?

"The butterfly, do you feel bad for it?" His body facing you while his eyes stayed focus on your expression.

"It's the spider I pity."

Jason's brow raises from your words. "The spider?"

You stay silent for a moment.

"People hate the spider, for something it can't control. Kind of unfair if you ask me." Your stare didn't seem to be focused on the painting, seeming to be beyond that.

"Your weird" Jason mumbled. Not fully understanding what you were meaning.

Suddenly your spider senses spiked up. You were quick to grab Jason and pull him away causing you two to fall to the ground, right before a bomb was set off.

Jason was quick to get onto his feet

"Stay." Was all he said before running off. You got off the ground and scanned the area before running off to try and help others to get up and evacuate. Your spider senses were going crazy. People were screaming and the building was shaking.

you were so distracted you didn't notice something rolling to your feet. A smoke bomb. But the moment you noticed it, it was too late. Red smoke exploded into your face.

The sound of a ticking clock, the lights dimmed. You were in a chair, blinking a few times. Trying to process how you got here, you look up to see Mrs. Dean. Sitting on the chair across from you.

". . . Mrs. Dean?" Confusion was quick to take over you.

The air felt eerie, and oddly damp. You glanced around and see your in her office. You see Mrs. Dean talking. Her mouth moving but you heard nothing.

"I- I can't hear you-"

"Do you blame yourself?"

You stayed silent for a moment, Confused. You were getting this, unsettling feeling, causing you to grip the onto the chair you seem to not be able to get off from.

"What?" You spoke, almost in a whisper

"Well, it's quite common in this situation for a patient to feel a sort of guilt"

Your brows furrowed by Mrs. Deans statement.

"What situation. . .?"

Mrs. Dean doesn't answer. She freezes almost. No movement. Like she's been paused.

Your surroundings glitch.

And you're standing outside. In the rain, ruins around you. You couldn't process anything. Because you were staring down.

Starring down at a motionless body. The face. She doesn't have a face.

Where is her face. She's supposed to have a face, right? why doesn't she have a face? What is it supposed to look like?-

. . . who is this?

Your supposed to know who this is. But you don't. Why can't you remember? This isn't right. . . .

different faces glitch onto the woman. But none of them were right.

Why can't you remember?

what's wrong with you?

Why can't you remember?

Suddenly your body began to move. Your hands slowly move up to reveal blood. Your breathing increased, panic, dread. Utter dread.

"AAAAHHHHH!!!"

"Shit!" Jason struggled to hold you down. Bruce shouted for Dick to open the pod to get you out of this hallucinating state you were in due to the fear toxin. Your blood curdling screams echoed throughout the Batcave.

Your body thrashed as you screamed and cried. Your screaming was throwing Jason off. And it hurt. It hurt seeing you like this more than he would think. Bruce took hold of you and told Jason to grab a syringe to knock you out.

Bruce held onto you tight. You screamed out.

"Please! No- NO NO PLEASE NO!"

Jason ran back with the syringe and stuck it into your neck. You flinched, your head falling back as your eyelids slowly close.

"Mama . . ." You whispered, only audible for Jason and Bruce to hear. Giving the two men a few seconds of silence before Bruce quickly carried you to the pod.

--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__-

A/n: Yup, I'm back. Hope y'all are having a good school year for those in school. Hope y'all liked this one and feel free to give me any tips on making more unsettling seance (I just noticed I reached 1,007 followers. You guys going crazy with this)

@huening-ly,@mariadvorak, @superherosdystopiafreak, @chelluv, @houseissofine, @esposadomd, @greyeyedmockingbird, @1-800-daisy, @c0c0-puffsxxx @arthurswife, @h0rr0r-10ver-69, @josiepapen, @natashanice165, @amber-content, @mahbeanz @azurewisteria, @seraph101, @skepvids, @lara20aral, @iwasveronica, @jackrabbitem, @nickey-diano, @idonthaveanameforthisacc, @sekidekiboombeki, @masters-blog, @lulpeepkins, @sgarrush-blush, @redsakura101, @danart501, @definitely-not-sammie, @khaleesihavilliard, @reallynotsoconfident, @uknowimdumb, @bat1212

[kerryweaverlesbian]

Sam: hey Cass! I made you a drivers licence to go with your truck. Kind of a tradition between me and Dean that when you first drive by yourself you get one with your real name. Well, I guess two people isn't much of a tradition, but, here! I know it's a bit late but, y'know, there was a lot going on.

Cas: thank you that's very.............[squints at the details] the name is wrong.

Sam: Oh, well, you needed a surname and I thought Winchester would be-

Cas: No, that's fine. But my name is Cas.

Sam: Yeah, I put Cass.

Cas: No, it's Cas. With one S. My name is Castiel. Can you not- do you not know how to spell my name? Sam, if you need to borrow Jack's reading books, you just need to ask him, he'd be happy to help you.

Sam: Wh- dude I know how to spell! But we've been spelling your name as Cass-two-Ss this entire time. That's how you spell Cass!

Cas: We? As in, both of you? And - not Bobby surely? He knew how to spell my name?

Sam: Look, look, look I can prove it. [Pulls out his Blackberry that he's kept since 2009 and scrolls up a text chain with Dean] Look, "CASS said we're all boned." That's like two days after he met you.

Cas: I- this is...ah I understand. You faked this. You're doing a prank on me. Some sort of Gabriel-esque unreality game. I will not be fooled again, as I was when you showed me the video of "house hippos". Well played, Sam, but not well enough.

Sam: I'm not- urgh, [calling out] DEAN

Dean [yelling back from the kitchen] YEAH?

Sam: HOW DO YOU SPELL CASS? ONE S OR TWO?

Dean: HOW LONG HAVE YOU KNOWN HIM, MAN? IT RHYMES WITH ASS. TWO.

Sam: see? And Dean gave you that name so really, he's the authority. You're Cass.

Cas:

Sam:

Cas:

Sam:

Cass, resigned: our partnership has been built on a foundation of misunderstanding and foolishness. But still we must endure. Thank you for the card. Samm.

Samm: You're welcome. Hey. Did you just feel like a, reverberation in the universe? Like something small but significant has changed?

Cass: No.

Samm: Ah, that's a relief.

Deen: HEY EVERYBODY, COME GET SOME LUNCH.

[supernotnatural2005]

'Giddy up Cowboy' (Drabble)

Paring: Dean x Reader

Summary: The power of impression leads to wondrous things.

Word Count: 822

Prompt: ‘Character B tries to impress Character A’

Warnings: Dean riding a mechanical bull 🥵🥵

AN: This is another square completed for my @jacklesversebingo 24 card. It's a short one I know but, I think it fit perfectly for this prompt 😄

Read the follow up here

Main Masterlist

Bingo Masterlist

“Don’t you just love a man who knows how to ride one of those things?" You sigh dreamily, watching man after rugged-looking man try their damnedest at riding the mechanical bull.

There was just something so downright sexy about watching a guy flex his thighs and roll his hips in time with the sway of the machine. If you didn’t know any better, it seems as though you may have discovered a new turn-on for yourself.

“Um, not really Y/N.” Sam chuckles before taking a drink from his beer. You smack his arm in jest because he knew you were being rhetorical. You cease, however, when your attention is soon re-captured by another man stepping up for his turn. 

Meanwhile Dean frowns at you, his eyes glancing between you and the men making complete fools of themselves, in his opinion. Not one of them had been able to stay on for a full minute. There was nothing impressive about that, so he couldn’t see as to why you thought so. 

‘Because you just hate the fact she’s gawking at other men.’ Came the niggling voice in the back of his mind. A voice that hadn’t shut up about you for months now. 

Again, the new guy was flung from the machine, this time before even 30 seconds were up, and Dean scoffs. Apparently it was loud enough for your attention to turn to him. 

“What? You think you can do any better, Winchester?” You tease, and he rolls his eyes. 

“I think even Sammy here could do better than these goons.” Dean sasses back, and Sam frowns, knowing that wasn’t meant to be a compliment. You squint your eyes at Dean, too suspiciously for his liking, and he distracts himself with a pull from his beer. 

“Then why don’t you hop on? Show these goons—"you imitate his deep voice, "what you’ve got?” You challenge him playfully, almost like you didn’t believe he would. 

Fine, he thinks stubbornly. Maybe this time you’ll actually notice me; comes that voice again. 

You had been a casual hunting partner with the boys for a few months now; your knowledge, skill, and witty humour brought a fresh new light into their lives, and they both enjoyed having you around. Dean maybe more so, for other reasons. 

Finishing the rest of his beer in one big gulp, he stands from the table with a cocky smirk. “I’ll show you how a real man does it, sweetheart.” Sam cringes at his brothers statement, and Dean has to admit it was a cheap line, but it got that smile out of you. The one that made your eyes shine.

As Dean pays the operator, he looks over at you one last time and sends you a wink before he steps up onto the mat and effortlessly mounts the bull. He blows out a breath, suddenly nervous. He couldn’t make a fool out of himself now, not with the mouth he’d given you. 

Dean gives the guy a thumbs up once he’s situated, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. His only thought; she’s watching, like a mantra in his mind. He hears the whirring of the machine spark to life, and no sooner as it did, does the bull begin to rock. 

At first, it’s a gentle forward and backward motion until it begins to spin. Dean clenches his knees tighter and rolls his hips, matching the same motion as the bull. He holds his left arm out for balance as the bull begins whipping around at a much faster pace. He grips on for dear life, the cheer from the crowd gathered drowning into nothingness as he puts all his concentration into staying on. 

It feels like a lifetime before he finally hears the operator announce he’d broken the 90 seconds before the bull gradually begins to wind down to a stop. An eruption of cheers, mostly from the women in the crowd, surrounds him as he hops down. Even some of the guys who’d failed shake his hand impressed as he steps off the mat. He nods politely as he pushes his way through, ignoring the women trying to get his attention—his eyes only searching for you. 

You’re standing at the back of the crowd, having moved to get a better view, your smile dazzling and eyes alight with wonder. 

“So. Was I better?” Dean asks, a little breathless from his effort but also incredibly curious. You take a step closer to him, your lips pulling up into a smirk as you come toe to toe. His breath hitches as you place a hand on his chest, and he’s certain you can feel what the simple action does to his heart. 

“You did great! But I think I can ride him better.” Your eyes glisten with mischief as you lean up on your toes to whisper in his ear. 

“And I’m not talking about the bull.” 

Read part 2 here.

AN: Again, I know it was a short one but I have much more planned for the rest of my squares, maybe a series in the works 👀 As always I really appreciate any feedback! Let me know what you though 💕

[jasvtsc]

you felt… bad.

at first, it didn’t bother you — you were indifferent to those things, focused only on the task at hand. however, the more you got used to being around humans, the more you picked up from their behaviour.

and you shouldn’t feel like that in the first place. it’s not something angel-worthy. but then again, there wasn’t much left of the angel you once were.

you sat in the dimly lit motel room, absentmindedly fiddling with your fingers as you kept staring at the wall while replaying all of the things that happened, in your head. some waitresses making fun of you and being mean just because you were next to dean and they were attracted to him. the way people scolded you and called you stupid when you simply didn’t know something cause you were yet getting to know the earth better. or just simply feeling… bad.

at first, you didn’t think much of it. because you didn’t understand it. however, the longer you were around humans, you began to recognize their hidden intentions and how malicious they could be to one another.

and now, it upsets you. it made you sad because no matter how hard you were trying, you could’ve never been enough.

dean entered the room after being gone for some time. you didn’t know why — you didn’t bother to ask, afraid that you’d just make a fool out of yourself even more by not knowing something obvious. he had this smile on his face as he entered, rubbing his hands together and already preparing to crack a joke. however, the moment he noticed that you were sitting still, more disturbingly than usual, his face fell.

he quickly came closer and knelt in front of you, cupping your face in his calloused hands and stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

“birdie, what’s going on?” he asked, worry now etched onto his features. and when tears started running down your beautiful face, he swore that he could feel his heart breaking at that moment. “hey, hey, hey. no, none of that. please, don’t cry,” he panicked, trying to wipe your tears.

“am i stupid?” you asked quietly with a small sniffle, and dean immediately frowned.

“what? no. of course not. you’re literally an angel, sweetheart. you’re smarter than the smartest person on earth. why would you think that?” he looked at you intently, trying to gauge the answer from your expression. and the way you nervously nibbled at your lower lip said enough. dean sighed and leaned back, resting his arm on his thigh. “is that about those chicks from the diner? birdie, they said that only because they’re jealous of you. and that’s what humans do when they’re jealous — they put other people down. you can’t listen to every word someone says about you. in fact, you should only listen to me, alright?” he asked with a soft smile, stroking your hair. “you’re pretty. and smart. and you have a heart made out of gold. you should not let others mess with that. you hear me, birdie?”

“why are you so nice?” you sniffled, putting your hands on his head and just looking at him — it was one of your favourite things to do. just admiring your favourite human.

“because you make me want to be better,” he sighed, running his fingers up and down your arm. “only to you, though. don’t tell anyone that i’m suddenly getting soft,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes, standing up.

you chuckled and nodded while wiping your face. “okay. i won’t.”

dean smiled, hearing you chuckle. he cupped your face and kissed your forehead, then the tip of your nose and finally your lips.

“i love you, birdie,” he whispered, kissing you again.

a/n: blurb based on one of the asks that i got but i couldn’t find it on my page😭

[wandering-winchesters]

First Moments: Hug

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Summary: The first time Dean hugs you. A/N: I am going to keep it going! Please let me know if you have any suggestions for "Firsts"! Word Count: 1,143

The dusty Kansas sunset painted the world in streaks of orange and purple as you stood outside the small, dilapidated diner in Lebanon. You’d been on the road for weeks, chasing a string of supernatural leads that didn’t pan out, and your frustration had finally caught up with you. The Winchester brothers were somewhere inside, sharing a rare moment of peace over greasy burgers and fries. You’d been tagging along with them for a few months now, after a chance encounter during a hunt in South Dakota.

At first, you weren’t sure how long the partnership would last. Dean, ever the protective big brother, had been wary of letting a stranger join their team. You were no stranger to the life, though—you had your scars, both physical and emotional, to prove it. Still, earning Dean’s trust felt like climbing an impossibly high mountain. He was guarded, sharp-tongued, and carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, a fact you’d come to realize more deeply as time went on.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like you—he just didn’t trust easily. You’d seen glimpses of his softer side: the way he’d check on Sam when he thought no one was looking, the gruff jokes he used to break tension, and the rare moments when his walls came down just enough to reveal the man beneath the hunter. But a hug? That seemed as unlikely as a demon voluntarily taking a holy water bath.

You leaned against the Impala, arms crossed, staring out at the quiet stretch of road. Your mind wandered to the hunt you’d botched last week—a werewolf case in Nebraska. It should’ve been straightforward, but a moment of hesitation on your part had nearly cost Sam his life. Dean hadn’t said much about it afterward, but you could feel the tension radiating from him. You’d been carrying the guilt ever since, and tonight it felt heavier than ever.

The door to the diner creaked open, and Dean stepped out. His leather jacket was slung over one shoulder, and he had that familiar look of suspicion and curiosity on his face.

“You gonna stand out here all night, or what?” he asked, his voice rough but not unkind.

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to speak. Dean wasn’t the kind of guy you could fool with small talk or half-hearted excuses. He saw through people like glass.

He approached slowly, his boots crunching on the gravel. “You’ve been quiet lately,” he said, leaning against the car next to you. “Quieter than usual, I mean. What’s going on?”

You hesitated, debating whether to brush it off or let him in. Finally, you sighed. “Just... thinking.”

“Dangerous pastime,” he quipped, though his tone lacked its usual edge. When you didn’t laugh, he frowned. “Come on, out with it. What’s eating you?”

You glanced at him, surprised by the genuine concern in his eyes. It wasn’t often that Dean let himself be openly vulnerable, even in the smallest ways. “It’s that hunt in Nebraska,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I screwed up, Dean. If you hadn’t been there, Sam might’ve—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, his tone firm but not harsh. “Sam’s fine. You’re fine. That’s what matters.”

“But it was my fault,” you insisted, the guilt bubbling to the surface. “I froze up, and—”

“And you’re human,” he said, cutting you off again. “It happens. Trust me, I’ve made more mistakes than I can count. You learn from it and move on.”

You shook your head, unable to meet his gaze. “I just... I don’t want to be a liability. You and Sam, you’ve been doing this your whole lives. I don’t want to be the reason something goes wrong.”

Dean was quiet for a moment, and when he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you’d ever heard it. “Listen, this life? It’s not easy. Hell, it’s damn near impossible sometimes. But you’re part of the team now, and we’ve got your back. You’re not a liability. You’re family.”

The word hit you like a punch to the gut. Family. It was something you hadn’t felt in a long time. Not since you’d lost your parents to a demon when you were a teenager. Not since you’d been hunting alone, keeping people at arm’s length because getting close to anyone felt like a risk you couldn’t afford to take.

Dean must have noticed the look on your face because he shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his short-cropped hair. “Look, I’m not great at this touchy-feely stuff, but... I mean it. You’re family. And family doesn’t bail when things get tough.”

Something in you broke at those words. The tears you’d been holding back for weeks spilled over, and you quickly turned away, embarrassed. “Sorry,” you mumbled, wiping at your eyes. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Hey,” Dean said, his voice gentle now. Before you could protest, he reached out and pulled you into a hug.

It wasn’t one of those quick, awkward pats on the back you’d expect from someone like Dean. It was solid, grounding, and full of unspoken emotion. His arms were strong around you, steadying you as you let yourself cry against his chest. You could feel the warmth of his leather jacket, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the faint scent of motor oil and whiskey that clung to him like a second skin.

For a moment, the world stopped. The weight of your guilt, your fears, your loneliness—it all seemed to fade in the safety of his embrace. Dean didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to. The hug said it all: You’re not alone. You’re not a failure. You’re family.

When you finally pulled away, his hands lingered on your shoulders, grounding you. “Feeling better?” he asked, his voice gruff but kind.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. Thanks, Dean.”

He gave you a small smile, the kind that didn’t come around often but lit up his whole face when it did. “Don’t mention it. Seriously. Ever.”

That earned a laugh from you, and the tension between you eased. For the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe again.

Dean patted the hood of the Impala, his way of signaling that the moment was over. “Come on,” he said, opening the passenger door. “Sam’s probably eaten all the fries by now, but maybe we can grab some pie for the road.”

You climbed into the car, feeling lighter than you had in days. As the Impala roared to life and the brothers started bickering over music choices, you found yourself smiling. The road ahead would still be hard, but for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like you were facing it alone.

Dean didn’t hug often, but when he did, it mattered. And in that moment, it was exactly what you needed.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @jc-winchester @whump-loverz @pizzagirlxnsfwx @king-of-milf-lovers @jollyhunter

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: Make-Up Sex w/ Dean Winchester

a/n: now that i feel better, though still albeit exhausted, i'm now literally running, jumping, fucking skipping to get caught up because somehow october decided to actually speed run its own month like the hell???

masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3

Being with Dean Winchester was challenging at times, because no matter how much he trusts you or how good things really are, he's always expecting the rug to be pulled out from under him. Even if sometimes he is the metaphorical rug.

You've had many arguments before, but none of them have hurt like this. You often found yourself in bed alone, usually because the boys were out hunting or catching up on lore, and you were honestly okay with that because duh— they were saving the world! But, sometimes you missed having some cuddle time with your boyfriend, but apparently he did not feel the same.

When you came to peel him away from whatever article he was reading on the computer, he snapped at you, saying some things that were very unnecessary. It had sent you back to bed angrier and more hurt than you had ever been before.

It only took a few minutes of harsh silence before he came stomping down the hallway and into your shared room. You didn't dare move a muscle, remaining on your side with your arms crossed and glare settled on the wall in front of you.

He took a moment to kick off his shoes and shuck off his flannel before shuffling into bed behind you, a heavy hand resting on your plush hip that was covered by the duvet.

"Sweetheart…" He began. "Go away, Dean." You said coldly, unravelling your arms to shove his hand off of you. 

"Look— I'm sorry." He rasped quietly. "Could've fooled me." He sighed. "I— didn't mean what I said, I'm just… tired. This case has been whoppin' me and Sammy's ass." He explained. "I just wanna catch this thing before it kills anyone else, and I ended up taking my anger out on you and you didn't deserve it," Dean took your body relaxing as a sign to be able to spoon you. "Fuck, honey. I'm sorry."

You chewed on your bottom lip thoughtfully. A part of you didn't want to give in, but the other part acknowledges that Dean never apologises unless he really means it.

"You really hurt my feelings, you know?" You whispered meekly. "I know baby, I know." He murmured into your neck.

You basked in his closeness, in the strength of his arm wrapped around your softened midsection. You shivered when you felt him place gentle kisses onto the exposed skin of your neck, the arm holding you pressed your back harder onto his chest.

"Let me take care'a you." He said seductively, his palm slipping up to cup your braless breast. You whimpered at the feeling, but nonetheless grinded back on his growing bulge as he stimulated your nipples.

"Please." You breathlessly begged. 

He was quick to turn you on your back, lips slamming down on yours. He devoured your mouth, his tongue demanding entrance as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your pajama shorts. He groaned lowly at the fact that you had no panties on.

"Was this what you were gonna give me to make me feel better?" He asked with an amused smirk painted on his lips. Your skin flushed but you nodded shyly. "If it would have helped you, yeah." You confessed sheepishly. "Can't believe I was such an asshole to my sweet girl." 

His fingers teased your damp folds, sliding a finger between them to collect your slick before prodding at your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat, a small whine leaving you as he joined your lips together once more.

It was as though he was trying to destroy you from the inside-out. His strong fingers worked your entrance open, the man slipping in a second finger. Your legs twitched around his arm, loud mewls passing between the both of you whenever he'd hit your g-spot. 

You pulled away from your spit soaked kiss to cry out. "Dean, baby, 'm gonna cum!" 

He slipped in a third and final finger. He twisted his wrist torturously, his thumb reaching up to rub furiously at your clit. Your hand gripped desperately at his wrist, holding it to your body as you desperately rode his hand. 

"There you go, sweetheart. There ya go." He talked you through your orgasm. "Dean… Dean…" All you could whimper was his name.

"Fuck." You heaved after taking a few moments to catch your breath. "You okay?" He asked gruffly. You nodded your head, your own fingers tangling themselves up in his spiky hair. 

"I need you in me." You said as you cradled the back of his head. "Don't know if I deserve it." It sounded as if the big bad Dean Winchester was actually pouting! 

"Ugh, just c'mere." You said with a grin, tugging your boyfriend over your body. "If you don't fuck me, then I'll be sad again. How does that sound?" You asked playfully. "Not good." He murmured with a matching grin.

He was quick to take off his jeans, practically falling over himself to get naked as you finally stripped yourself of your own as well. Both of you were as naked as the day you were born by the time he had his cock lined up to your entrance.

His tip teased your clit, which caused you to whine in displeasure. "Dean…" He chuckled lightly. "Sorry, honey." 

With his hands on either side of your head, he entered you, your head falling back in pleasure at the feeling.

"Jesus." He groaned. "Feels so good, baby." He praised. Tiny whimpers left you as he bottomed out, sheathed all the way to the hilt as your velvety walls fluttered around him selfishly.

"Shit! Please move." You begged. 

Dean would be damned if you had to beg for fucking anything tonight. Pulling out slowly, he slammed his hips into yours. A loud smack! Resounded throughout the room, a choked moan slipping out of you.

"Ah!" His tip brushed against your g-spot pleasurably. Your nails dug into his back as he pounded into you, holding onto the older man for dear life as he continually stretched you out.

Your velvety walls sucked him in greedily, like they were practically trying to keep him inside of you. You could feel that familiar coil in your stomach tighten continuously, a feeling that Dean had made sure you were familiar with for the past years that you've been with him.

Your pussy burned with overstimulation as you neared your end, and it made it harder for Dean to move in and out of you.

"You gonna cum, baby?" He asked through gritted teeth. "Y— yes!" You stuttered. "Cum for me then, sweetheart." Your hand slipped down to rub at your clit hurriedly, your back arching at the overwhelming feeling.

"Fuck!" You swore as you came, your chest pressed against Dean's. One of his arms held himself up as the other stretched over your back to keep your plush upper body anchored to him as you rode out your high.

"Holy shit." You gasped, your chest heaved with each quick breath you attempted to take. 

"Best apology ever." You said with a hazy laugh.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 668

—-MDNI���-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

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I’m Not Your F*ckng Maid

-Prologue-

Dean was awoken with a slam inches from his face and he sprung to life, almost losing his balance before he realised where he was. He’d fallen asleep at the table with his face in a book and surrounded by heaps of paper - many of which he hadn’t even started to read through yet. Blinking awake and gaining his bearings, he heard a familiar voice ring through the room.

”You boys are disgusting, how do you live like this?” The older Winchester finally looked up to see Charlie lifting a plate of half eaten, day-old pizza whilst kicking several beer bottles aside so she could pull out a chair and take a seat next to Dean, who was pinching the bridge of his nose.

”Yeah well, we’ve been a little busy recently if you haven’t noticed,” his voice was gravelly from the sleep. Charlie put down the plate of old food and sat down, worry crossing her face as she looked at the man next to her. She knew they’d been under a lot of pressure lately with their work, so much so that the brothers were starting to neglect themselves. It had been months since they’d eaten proper food that wasn’t instant or take-out, they rarely went outside, always locking themselves away in the bunker to do research and the bunker itself was getting cluttered with bin bags and pizza boxes. Not to mention the piles of laundry that she’s noticed slowly starting to form its own ecosystem in the washroom.

“Yeah I get that, but you really have to look after yourselves. When was the last time you ate a vegetable?”

Dean scoffed.

“Yesterday, obviously,” he gave her a look like she was from another planet, and she rolled her eyes.

“The pizza sauce doesn’t count, Dean.”

He looked puzzled, raising an eyebrow, “Why not?”

Before she could even humour him with an answer, Sam emerged, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh hey Charlie, when did you get here?” His voice was equally as gravelly as Deans, so she assumed he’d also just woken up.

“Five minutes ago.”

“She called us disgusting Sam. And she said the sauce on pizza isn’t made from vegetables,” Dean gestured to Charlie like she was the fool as he looked up at his younger brother who now stood across from him on the other side of the table. Sam went to open his mouth to respond, but closed it again quickly and furrowed his brows, clearly unsure how to reply to his older brother without opening a can of worms. Charlie huffed.

“You guys need to sort yourself out. I only dropped by because I hadn’t heard from you for a while and thought you might’ve worked yourself to death. I can’t stay long because I’m meeting a friend for a drink. She’s already at the diner waiting for me”

“A friend?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and the redhead smirked.

“I wish, sadly she’s into dudes,” she paused, a thought crossing her mind, “Come to think of it, she’s actually looking for work, you guys might be able to help.”

Dean and Sam shared a glance.

“She’s a hunter?” Sam asked.

“Not exactly. Her uncle was, so she knows about stuff, but from what I know she was just a research girlie,” Charlie peered at the mess of papers on the table, “and it looks like you could use the help.” She looked between the brothers as they stared at each other, like they were having some sort of unspoken conversation. A few moments passed before Dean slapped his hand on the table and stood up.

“Sure ok, but we’re coming with you today to meet her,” he went to grab his jacket from the back of his chair, an eagerness in his movements before Charlie put her hand out to stop him.

“Great!” She grinned, before raising her eyebrows and pointing to them both, “but first you guys have got to shower, because I can taste your BO from here.”

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Up Next

Chapter 1

[apocalypseornaw]

Shame on You

Dean Winchester x Reader

You and Dean burned hot and heavy but life as a hunter hits hard and puts a strain on relationships. When you're pushed back into each other's lives will it be a second chance or a fool me once, shame on you situation?

Everyone has those memories that are set in stone. The ones that no matter who much you'd prefer to forget they refuse to budge, choosing instead to linger at the back of your mind. Waiting until you least expect them to spring their trap and make you remember, rather you'd like to or not.

Too many of those for you starred Dean front and center. Dean Winchester, a legend in the hunting world. Someone monsters feared, a name known in heaven and in hell but to you? Your traitorous heart kept a completely different side of him close no matter how much you wished to forget.

To you? Dean was the fifteen year old tried to act cool and aloof but had stayed up all night with you and Sam during the summer if you all happened to get dumped on Bobby. He was the eighteen year old that helped Bobby get your first car road ready. He was the twenty two year old who'd called you to tell you Sam was getting out of the life then the twenty six year old who'd been wracked with guilt over Jess.

He was the man who lost his father within two months of you losing your aunt but still managed the drive so you wouldn't be alone to light the pyre.

-------------

Dean was the man who called you on the road just to check in, the man who at one time made an hour drive in twenty minutes because you'd been hurt and said "I need help"

Dean was the man who put up the front that nothing ever bothered him but whenever you showed up you'd see that look in his eyes, that look that clearly said "She's not gonna back down until I face it" and you never did.

Dean was was the man who on the night he was bound for hell begged you to stay behind because "I don't want you to see me ripped to shred by hellhounds after your aunt dying by a werewolf"

--------------

Dean was the man who you fought shoulder to shoulder with against anything and everything that came your way. The man who would patch your wounds and tell you how strong you were even when you felt your weakest.

Dean was the man that when the two of you started getting closer he treated you like you were made of glass and even apologized the first time the two of you kissed, thinking he'd crossed a line you didn't want crossed. The man that the first time the two of you fell into bed with each other spent hours going over every inch of your skin, bringing you pleasure you'd never knowm with past lovers.

----------------

Dean was the man who you gladly gave your heart to, entrusting him fully with everything you had. You loved him in a way you'd never previously even dreamt of. Then the arguments had started.

They were small, simple stuff really. No relationship was perfect but as hunters somethings said were lines crossed. Doubting each other's survival abilities, citing that you were a hindrance in one blowup of anger and even telling you to "go home to Bobby" when all of you had gotten pretty banged up had been the final straw. You'd been pushed too far.

You knew Dean and you knew he was pushing you away to protect himself but you also knew to protect yourself and the love you would always have for him you needed to leave. So leave you did. That was until Sam called and said four words that drew you back into Dean's orbit "We need your help"

"Out of every hunter we know, you call her?" Dean's voice was dangerously low. He was working hard not to yell, not to let his temper get the best of him but two years had passed since you walked out on him. Two years with his heart ripped out of his chest and out walking around in the world and only talking to his little brother instead of him.

Sam cut his eyes up from his computer screen, completely unphased by his brother's anger "You pushed her away Dean. Y/N loved you with everything she had but you kept pushing and pushing. It's what you always do. I can't falt her because you can't communicate for shit"

"Why do we need her on this hunt?" Dean repeated ignoring the insult, so Sam turned the screen around "because her aunt discovered the species. As far as I can tell out of hunters that are still alive that's faced it she's the only one. It was either I call her and she works the case with us or she ends up finding it on her own and works it solo and could end up getting hurt or worse on a solo hunt. Last time it took her, Bobby and her aunt to take out a pack. You really want to send her alone?"

That thought stopped him in his tracks. It felt like the air had been ripped from his lungs at the thought of you dead. "How long until she'll get here?" He asked about the time Sam's phone dinged. Sam glanced at the screen and shrugged "About ten minutes"

The bunker was just how you remembered it. A part of you felt like you should park your car next to Dean's impala and go chunk your bag in his room but that was then, this was now. You waited at the heavy outer door until it opened to reveal Sam on the other side. "Sam" you greeted with a smile and when you reached up to hug him he met you halfway. "It's good to see you Y/N"

When you pulled away from each other you looked past his shoulder and he half grinned "He's in the library, looking over the lore you sent ahead" you nodded "I bet he's so thrilled you called me" his smile softened "He still loves you" you shook your head "Fool me once Sammy. Sometimes you need more than love, you actually have to want the other person there"

He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something but stopped and shook his head "This is gonna be an interesting hunt to say the least"

---------------

You followed Sam down the winding stairs despite knowing the bunker as well as he did. You could find the library blind folded. "Dean?" Sam called out and your heart proved traitorous yet again by nearly leaping out of your chest.

The stubble that always graced his sculpted jaw was thicker than usual as if he'd missed trimming it by a day or two, the white Henley he wore under a dark blue shirt was unbuttoned to the point enough of his neck and collarbone was sticking out that you lost your train of thought as memories of the sounds he made when your lips traced that sensitive flesh flashed through your mind. Fuck, this had been a bad idea. You quickly schooled your features hoping Dean hadn't clocked you taking your time looking over any physical changes on him.

Dean on the other hand was barely able to meet your eyes. You looked as beautiful as always. Your hair was back in a braid, small pieces had worked their way loose but he imagined that was probably due to you riding with the windows down and the radio turned up. Your jeans were torn in a few places and the Led Zeppelin shirt you wore had seen better days but he couldn't have imagined anyone looking better in that moment than you alive and right in front of him after two years of only hearing your voice on the rare occasions he'd been in the room when you'd call Sam.

"Hey Dean" your voice was low, barely above a whisper. He nodded slowly before finally saying "Hey Y/N" you tore your gaze from him and looked at Sam, a tired smile slipping onto your face "Police and medical examiner reports please? Then we can gather what we need and hit the road. Faster we get to Missouri, faster we stop this stop. Then we really need to get Garth and a few more hunters of the like up to speed on the lore because I'm one person I can't be on speed dial every time these son of bitches crawl out their caverns"

Dean watched you slip into hunter mode with a small smile on his face, he loved you just as much as he had the day everything imploded between the two of you. He had to remind himself you were here for this hunt, not for him. No matter how much that truth hurt. "Lets get to work"

For some reason Sam had deemed it a good idea to send you and Dean to the medical examiners office together while he went to talk to the local police. Good idea in theory, divide and conquer and all that. The problem? Your patience was wearing thin before this hunt started.

You had to make two stops to get the needed supplies to make bullets that would put these things down, the motel only conjoining rooms left, you'd been left with the choice to let Sam take your car or to chauffeur Dean around and now the blonde, leggy medical examiner couldn't take her eyes off Dean long enough to let the two of you fully examine the bodies.

Your fed suit felt like it was choking you, the air in the office felt thick and you felt like you may very well throw a punch if something didn't change in the next five seconds. "Ms Jones is it normal protocol for the medical examiner to eye fuck the federal agent sent to examine the bodies of the victims found littered throughout the area or are you just adding on to your job title?"

You weren't sure who was more shocked by your words. Dean, Ms Jones or yourself. She composed herself quickly you had to give it to her so you attempted a backpeddle "What Agent Wilson chooses to do with his downtime once this case is closed is up to him and I'm not trying to rain on anyone's parade but you did tell our other partner Agent Cohen that you currently have what four bodies on ice? Now Agent Wilson is a looker as are you but I'm sure you both can wait a few more days"

Dean swallowed a smirk but you clocked it before he did as she apologized "I sincerely apologize Agent Taylor for my lack of professionalism" you forced a smile "I'll try not to let it slip when I report back to the state board" her face paled several shades as she led the two of you back to where the bodies were kept.

--------------

You were silent the entire ride back to the hotel, using the files in your lap as an excuse but you were fuming. You want to go back as knock Ms Laura Jones' perfect white teeth down her throat. How dare she flirt with your..... with Dean...with what she thought was an Agent on a case. The unprofessionalism. That's definitely what was bothering you. Not the thought that maybe he would've flirted back if you had gone with Sam.

"Y/N" Dean's voice broke through your thoughts and you glanced up to see you were back at the hotel and let out a breath. "Thank god" you wanted to get back into your jeans and get to work figuring out an idea of where these things could be held up. You needed to kill something.

You could feel Dean's eyes on you as you slid out the impala and lovingly ran a hand down the side of your own car. You needed this case over as soon as possible, for the sake of what little sanity you had left.

Dean didn't want to dwell on how good jealousy looked on you even when you never would've taken claim to the emotion or on how his heart had attempted to leap free of his chest to find its way to you where it knew it belonged when he realized you were indeed seething with anger at Laura's flirting.

He didn't want to humor the fact that whenever he didn't look at you he could feel your eyes on him and when he glanced your way he could see your shoudlers tense slightly in that way that was you acknowledging that you felt his attention but refused to return it.

He didn't want to think about the way you chewed on your bottom lip in concentration as you helped Sam make the bullets. He damn sure didn't want to think about any memories that flashed through his head when you had glanced up to pass him the bullets and half smiled. You owned him to this day and this damn hunt was tearing his heart out.

------------------

You had mapped out two likely locations for the nests for these things. They were within about forty yards of each other but you'd known the boys would never agree to you checking out one alone. That meant either everyone checking one then heading to the other or one of the boys going alone.

You knew before he ever said what Dean was thinking "I'll take the north one, clear it. If I find something I'll call and you two come running" you leveled him with a glare "Dean these things are as fast as a Wendigo, as bloodthirsty as a rugaru and damn near as hard to kill as a ghoul. Against anything else you'd have my vote of confidence but I don't like you going in alone"

He gave you a smirk in return "Don't worry about me sweetheart. Been fine up until this point"

--------------------

You were begging your legs to move a little faster, your lungs to suck in a little more air and your body to be just a little stronger. There were six. The last pack had been four. Damn these things.

You felt the air currents move a half second before a body slammed into you and your back connected with the solid wall of the cave. You slid down with a heavy grunt and looked up to see one of the slobbering things over you. "Damn you're ugly"

Your gun had gotten knocked out of your hand but you'd smeared your knife in the concoction that was used in the bullet so you hoped that was enough. You slipped it from your boot and waved a hand at the thing "Cmon then, we don't got all night"

You went back and forth with the thing, narrowly avoiding its talons but finally seeing an opening to drive your knife hilt deep into its chest. You didn't hesitate to see if the knife would kill it instead you dove for your gun and flipped around the moment your hand wrapped around the cool metal and fired two rounds into the things head.

It fell with a heavy thud and you let out a breath, falling back against the dirt. "Y/N" You heard Dean's deep voice echoing your name and hollered "This way!" The moment he skid into view you saw he had a slice above his eyebrow and was favoring his side but the concern on his face was not for himself, he was looking at you.

You pushed yourself up to your feet as his eyes raked over your body, marking each visible mark no doubt "I'm fine Dean. Sam get the vics out?" He nodded "They're at the ranger station. Story is they were hiking and got stranded running away from a bear" you kicked the thing at your foot "What? Cocaine bear?" He grinned "I mean..we could sell it" he offered you his hand and you hesitantly took it.

You scrunched up your nose "I need a shower"

Once everyone had showered you gathered back with the boys in their room for first aid application. Sam needed stitches on his left shoudler, Dean needed a couple on that slice above his eye and had bruised ribs. You turned out fairly lucky considering the only bleeding you had was from scraping your arm and a leg on the walls of the cavern and your back would be bruised like hell from that slam but besides that nothing was broken so you'd all faired pretty well.

You were currently perched on the edge of the dresser, nursing a bottle of water and watching as Sam finished emailing Garth, The Banes twins, Donna,Jody and a handful of other hunters everything you knew about these things to update the collective lore.

Dean was sitting on the edge of his bed nursing a beer and trying to avoid your eyes. You were hoping they wouldn't need your help with anything for a while because now that the pre hunt and post hunt adrenaline was fading, the aching pain that accompanied the knowledge that the green eyed hunter that sat so close to you might as well have been a million miles away because he was no longer yours.

Sam glanced up once he was done "Anything to add?" You shook your head "That's it" he nodded "Ok then" you slowly stood up then motioned to the door that connected your rooms "I'm gonna hit the hay then. Roads calling my name so I'm hitting it bright and early"

Sam stood up and pulled you into a hug "it was good to see you after all this time" you smiled "Sorry for being a stranger" he barely glanced towards Dean before whispering "I get it" you stepped away from Sam and nudged Dean's shoudler on the way by "Guess you're free to hit up Laura now" he scoffed lightly "Yeah. Hey, stay safe sweetheart and if you ever need us...just call"

You half smiled "Same goes for me" before walking into your room and closing the door. You leaned back against it and shut your eyes to try to stow off the emotions. You could do this. You just needed a little sleep then you could hit the road.

"You're an idiot" Sam didn't waste any time tearing into Dean once he was sure you had secured the door behind yourself. Dean threw his hands up defensively "What did i do?"

Sam motioned to the door you'd just disappeared through "Nothing, that's the point. I've seen you mourn what you had with her for the last two frickin years man. You love her! You still do! You said it terrified you hearing gunshots then seeing her down. Don't let her walk away again without an effort. I'd give almost anything for that to be Jess on the other side of that door. Talk to her, tell her what she means to you. Argue, scream, have sex...hell do whatever you have to in an attempt to fix this because it's achingly clear you both still love each other with everything. I know why you pushed her away but it didn't work. She still loves you. So would you rather her die having spent the previous night in your arms or her die thinking you no longer wanted her?"

Dean didn't have to say anything for Sam to know his words had hit home. He nodded slowly looking from Sam to the door "Go" Sam repeated so Dean sat the beer on the side table and walked across the room before heading to the adjoining door so Sam buried his nose in his laptop in an attempt to make it seem like he wasn't paying any attention.

You had just brushed your teeth and plugged your phone in and was about to crawl into bed when a knock at the adjoining door drew your attention. You smoothed the cloth shorts you were wearing and went to answer it, half expecting Sam but there stood Dean.

"Yeah?" You asked looking from him to where Sam sat blatantly trying to appear as if he wasn't paying the two of you any attention. Dean scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck "Can we talk?" You nodded "Yeah, sure"

You stepped by to let him in about the time Sam glanced up. The two of you had a silent conversation which consisted of you asking if he knew what Dean wanted and him shrugging.

-----------

You nodded and turned back into your room, closing the door behind yourself and leaning against it. Dean stood in the center of your room looking a little out of place. "How ya been?" He asked then grimaced along with you. "We're not strangers Dean"

He nodded then sat down on the edge of the bed that wasn't disturbed and ran a hand down his face before looking up at you, a playful smirk finding his face "I'd offer a backrub since I know you're probably hurting but I doubt you'd take me up on the offer" you laughed and walked past him to sit on the edge of the dresser to face him before shrugging "Last time you gave me a backrub we broke the bed at Donna's cabin"

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to his hands. Several long moments passed before he finally spoke "I get why you left me" you let out a breath of air that sounded a lot more like a sigh than you meant for it to "Dean please.." you really didn't feel like tapping into the self worthlessness John had instilled so deep into him. You'd tried so hard for years for him to see himself like you did, how Sam did. How damn near everyone who cared for him did.

He held up his hand to cut you off "Hold on. I'm taking the blame. I pushed you away" when his eyes met yours you felt anger boil up into your chest "Why?"

"Why?" He echoed and you nodded "Why? Why did you let Cassie get close? You let Lisa get close? Yet you kept me at arms length for years. You let me fall in love with you then no matter what I did it wasn't good enough Dean! I WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH" You hadn't meant for your voice to raise but when he cut his eyes at the adjoining door you realized it had.

"You were always good enough" he replied. You jumped to your feet, driven by anger and pain along with the aching love you still felt for the man in front of you "THEN WHY PUSH ME AWAY INSTEAD OF FUCKING FIGHTING FOR ME?"

"BECAUSE YOU FUCKING SCARE ME OK?" You froze dead in your tracks at his response. "What?" He stood, taking a couple steps to put space between the two of you before turning to face you "Most of my life it was me and Sammy. Dad was a joke as a parent. Bobby was a constant that was gonna be there regardless. No one else was there, no else really mattered. When we were younger you were a friend. Another kid dragged into this shit show of a life too young but then he went to Stanford and all of a sudden you're the only person I knew in the life. You turned from this...this kid that used to be dumped off at Bobby's along with me and my little brother to this amazingly strong and beautiful woman. You turned into a constant in my life, the one thing that I could always count on. I never meant to fall in love with you because I never would've wanted to put the target that comes with a Winchester loving someone on your back but I did. Then when you loved me back?" He let out a breath, running a hand over his face.

You stood there staring at him, unsure what to say. Where was this two years ago? Why now? "Why have you waited two years to say this?" You couldn't help the venom in your voice. You were hurt and in all the years you'd known Dean before the two of you had gotten together you were stupid enough to think he'd abstained the last two years.

He shrugged "Because I'm an idiot? I thought if I tried hard enough you'd stop loving me and then I could just throw myself into hunting. I could find all the biggest cases. Make sure only little ones were left, keep you as safe as I could" "Dean my aunt died on a werewolf case. Not exactly a world ender" you replied and he nodded "I know. I know"

He turned to face you and you saw his shoulders sag "I'm human sweetheart. I'm not perfect. You of all people know that but I love you now more than ever. I never stopped loving you. It's going to end my world the day you stop breathing but when and if that day comes I'd rather face it knowing the last night we both spent on earth was in each other's arms. I broke your heart and I can't begin to make up for that but I will try with everything I have because there has not been a single day that I've stopped loving you. I have not touched another woman in the last two years, I can get tests if you need me to. I'll take it slow. We can start back by dating.."

You cut him off by crashing your lips against his. When you pulled away he smiled softly then raised both eyebrows "What was that for?" You laughed and shook your head "I love you Dean" you cut your eyes at the bed then added "now want to make up for the last two years?" A groan came from deep in his chest as he pulled you to him "You don't know how damn much"

You stopped him before he could press another kiss to your lips and he looked defeated at first before you said "Don't ever push me away again" he nodded "Yes ma'am" then grinned "Now can I kiss you?" "You can do whatever you want Winchester" you promised and his eyes darkened to a deep green, "I love you" he swore before crashing his lips against yours.

[especially-obsessed]

#icanteven

pt. 2

#icanteven - The Neighbourhood

"I can't even, I can't even believe what you did to me You can't even, you can't even say I'm overreacting I can't even, can't even hear your side Shame on me, you fooled me twice"

Summary: series; Sam cheats on you.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader, Dean Winchester x reader

Warnings: descriptions of depression, guilt, anger, infidelity, swearing, fluff

Word count: 1.1k

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

The Week After

Dean: 14 missed calls. 32 text messages.

Cass: 5 missed calls. 2 text messages. 

Sammy: 42 missed calls. 27 text messages. 

Your hands shook, staring at the last text message you had received from Sam. 

[y/n please come home]

A silent sob left your body, and you slammed your phone face down on the hotel table. You had picked somewhere nice, at least 3 stars, knowing that it wouldn’t be somewhere that the boys would look for you. Because that’s what they would do. They would search endlessly. And that’s why you chose a hotel that was also three states away from that motel. Tomorrow, you’d be even farther

Dean had left you a dozen voicemails, all of which you were unable to listen to for more than five seconds. Worry was evident in his voice. One was even a drunk dial, him mumbling over his own words as he spoke, wondering where you were. Leaving him the way you did hurt him, and you could never forgive yourself for that. But you pushed that thought aside.

There was a loud knock on the door, startling you. You hesitantly stood up, reaching for the gun in the waistband of your jeans out of instinct. 

Maybe it’s him? Your heart skipped a beat.

Your stomach dropped at the thought, not knowing what you would do if the boys were outside of your door right now. They were good at tracking people down, but damn, that would be damn near perfect, even for them. The knocking sounded again, loud and heavy, pounding on the door. Your adrenaline started to rush as you inched towards the door. You peered out the peephole to see the hotel manager holding a pile of neatly folded towels. Gun aimed at the back of the door, you undid the locks and slowly pulled the door open. You didn’t ask for more towels. 

“Yes?” You spoke clearly, still wary about why he was at your door. 

“We received a request to bring extra towels to your room?” he said with a smile. 

“I think you have the wrong room,” you said, starting to close the door on him. 

“Wait, please,” he said, pleading with you to keep your door open. Your instincts kicked into overdrive, telling you something was off about this. You kept the door where it was and waited for his response. Suddenly, the man threw the towels in your face, shoving his way into your room. The door flew open harshly, hitting the wall and ricocheting back, slamming itself shut. You stumbled back, almost losing your balance. He advanced on you, eyes flashing black. He pulled his arm back and clenched his fist. Panic bubbled up in your chest but was shoved down by another rush of adrenaline. 

You pulled an angel blade from your coat jacket and ducked, dodging his punch. He grunted in frustration as you moved behind him. 

“C'mon princess, this doesn’t need to be difficult,” he spoke snidely. He turned to face you. Before even fully seeing his face, you lunged forward, pushing the angel blade up through the underside of his jaw. You watched as his twisted soul burned within him. Pulling the blade down, his lifeless body fell to the floor. 

“What the actual fuck?” you breathed out, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

If a punk-ass demon can find me, the boys certainly can. 

It was time. You didn’t want to keep doing this. Who would? You liked having a home. But what happens when that home is no longer yours? When the person you trusted most in the world betrays you? The idea sent chills to your toes, and you pushed it aside. You moved quickly around the room, gathering your things. You drug the manager's body to the bathroom, leaving him in the tub. You weren’t quite sure what else to do with him. You grimaced at the thought of leaving him the way he was, but there was nothing you could do about it. 

The boys are way better at taking care of this kind of thing.

You glanced around the room, all but one thing remaining, and you slipped out the door yet again, not looking back. 

Dean was the first to burst through the hotel room door, followed suit by Sam. They both scanned the room, looking for you. The room was paid for another three days. There was a chance that you were still there. The boys could only hope. Dean walked back to check the bathroom. Sam ran an anxious hand through his hair. He was miserable trying to imagine where you were or what you were doing. 

He turned and looked at an object on the nightstand table. Your phone. 

“Dean,” Sam said sternly, picking it up. Dean walked out of the bathroom, his body movements tense. 

“She’s been gone for a few days,” He said, fist clutched to his mouth to keep him from gagging. At least it wasn’t you laying there lifeless. That thought alone made his stomach do a flip. Sam’s voice was stuck in his throat, unable to form a response. 

“There’s a body in the tub. Demon kill. Someone was following her,” Dean gave you a silent ‘attagirl,’ knowing you handled the situation. Something on the bedside table caught his attention. “What’s that?” he asked. Sam still held onto your phone tightly, hearing small cracks starting to give way in the plastic. He hadn’t even noticed the piece of paper that had been tucked under it when he picked it up. Dean moved quickly to pick up the note. His heart broke all over again, reading your words scribbled on the small paper. 

“What does it say?” Sam asked with a shaky voice. Dean didn’t respond, his face moving into a scowl. He crumpled up the paper with his fist and chucked it across the room. His breathing was heavy. He brushed past Sam and made his way towards the door. “Dean?!” Sam pressed, dreading what he was about to say. Dean halted in the doorway but didn’t turn around to face his brother. 

“She’s gone, Sam. She’s gone for good,” he paused for a moment and wiped at his face. “She’s gone because of you,” he said flatly and walked out the door, letting it slam harshly behind him. 

Sam’s heart ached, knowing that he was right. There was no doubt about it. He unclenched his fist, looking down at the now shattered and cracked shell of a phone in his palm. The glass had pierced his skin, drawing blood. You hadn’t been getting his calls, his voicemails, his text messages. His words were now meaningless to you. Sam dropped the object and brushed his hand against his jacket. He didn’t know what to do. You were gone, and it was all his fault. All he knew was that he deserved the pain he was feeling. 

And he would give anything to get you back.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

A/N: I weirdly enjoy writing this series <3 I added in the fight scene because my original piece was only like 600 words and I hated how short it was! So I wanted to add more detail.

Likes, reblogs, and follows are never expected but greatly appreciated! These let me know I should keep on doing what I’m doing! (:

Series tag list: @deviltion @bollzinurmouth @jjkluvcloudsworld @all444amphitrite @fleumurrr @mostlymarvelgirl @barnes70stark @achillesthebambino @i-love-ptv @pressedwater @therealabadoodle @sarahsobsession @fyegyall @mrsmckinnon @shadydelusionalvoid

[princessmisery666]

Best Con Ever

Summary: It’s all fun and games until the truth is revealed.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff, drinking, silly stuff, Jared being an annoyingly good friend (seriously, he wouldn't shut up!). 

W/C: 2,381.

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Alexander Calvert, Richard Richard Speight Jr.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x fem!Reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Challenge/Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Prompt/Square Filled: Making fun of one another 

Notes: Jensen is a single pringle for this one! 

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes are mine.

Graphics: dividers - @talesmaniac89 / picture in title card - @lemondropsonice - they were kind enough to grant permission to use when I asked.

Master Lists: Dean Winchester / Main

The special fan event is going so well. The intro includes party games, such as Pin the Wings on the Angel and Bowling with the Devil. The pins have pictures of demons from each season taped to them. There’s also a drinking game with “apple juice” because Jensen and Jared keep insisting “Jack” - Alex - isn’t old enough to drink yet. You’re a little buzzed, but it helps ease your nerves. 

“Ah, you said Supernatural!” Alex exclaims, pointing at Jared, and the audience collectively yells, “DRINK!”

Shots of apple juice that smell suspiciously like whiskey this time get passed around until the four of you have one, and then, as one, you shoot them back.

“Woo,” Jensen yells, sucking his teeth as he turns his back to the audience and looks at you. “Don’t let me fall over.”

“Only if you do the same for me,” you laugh. 

“I got you.” He turns to the audience again but puts his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side. 

Of course, the audience immediately awws and gasps. “Oh shhh, you lot,” Jensen playfully scolds, “I’m just holding her up.”

“Wouldn’t want her falling now, would we?” Jared says. “Unless it's for you. Ba-dum-tss.”

He gets nothing from the band. The drummer shakes his head.

“Oh, come on!” He complains. “That was good!”

This is your first event since joining the show at the end of season eleven, but it is not the first time a potential off-screen romance has been mentioned. You have seen videos of panels where fans have asked the question, and you and Jensen have each been approached by fans on the street. With Jensen’s arm wrapped firmly around you, you are sure you can get through it without making a fool of yourself.

Jensen has been a wonderful source of support from the beginning. You had been nervous about how the fans would react because you replaced the wonderful Megalyn Echikunwoke as Cassie Robinson, Dean’s love interest from way back in season one. The inconsistencies in appearance had been loosely explained, and it was somewhat plausible in the world of Supernatural, but that didn’t bother you so much. Being Dean’s love interest was what worried you the most. The fans are so protective, and rightfully so.

“They’re going to love you,” Jensen had said when you aired your concerns. “Just like I…we do.”

He was right. The reception to the reintroduction of Cassie couldn’t have gone better. The fans loved it and accepted you and Cassie Robinson with open arms. You’d read some comments, heard second-hand from producers, and when the fans started an online petition - for fun - to get you and Jensen to date in real life after seeing behind-the-scenes footage, Jared dubbed himself the President of the “Jensen and Y/N should be a couple IRL” club.

You and Jensen played along with it. It helped ratings, and it wasn’t a chore to have Mr Ackles’ undivided attention at parties and dinners to play up to the rumors. But that's all it is: rumors. The two of you are close, on and off set, but whereas Cassie and Dean are super hot, you and Jensen are lukewarm. Hugging Jensen - though it happens often - unfortunately doesn’t lead to sex like it would with Cassie and Dean.

Richard announces it's time for the fan questions and asks those selected to form an orderly queue behind the microphone. Though the questions have been pre-approved, you get a wave of anxiety as you don’t know what they will be, and you hope this portion of the event goes as well as the rest of the day. A fan asks how your first meeting with the cast went, and you look sheepishly at Jensen. 

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes but sighs in defeat. “Fine, you can tell it.”

“Better yet, reenact it!” Jared suggests. 

Your eyes light up with something akin to glee, and Jensen raises his brow and doesn’t need to ask the question in his eyes, ‘Really?’. You pout, bottom lip sticking out as far as it will go. “Please,” you draw out.

Reluctantly, making a show of it, and very slowly, Jensen gets to his feet, leaning closer to pretend to nip at your protruding lip. 

Jared shakes his arms out as he stands up, “I’ll play Y/N.” 

“The hell you will,” Jensen says, playfully pushing him out of the way. “Y/N will play herself.”

Jared comically falls over his chair to the ground as if Jensen’s push was twice the pressure it had actually been. 

You stand up in front of Jensen and wait for the laughing audience to quiet down. Jared stands straight and holds his microphone close to his mouth. “It was a bright winter morning, not a cloud in the sky,” he narrates in a poor impression of David Attenborough’s voice. “The beautiful and elusive beast, Jensen Ackles, notices a radiant creature across the lot. Slowly, he approaches…”

Jensen shakes his head at the crowd and rolls his whole head along with his eyes but obliges the narrator. He walks the few steps and shakes your hand with way too much enthusiasm. “Hi, I’m Batman. Dean. Ackles. I mean …” he groans, trying to dismiss his embarrassment, then blushes and says, “Hi.”

You laugh again, as does everyone else. Jensen grimaces just as he did on the day. “I’m going to walk into the sun now, sorry.” he strides around you to the end of the stage, and Jared steps up to take his place. 

Jared shakes your hand like a normal person. “Translation, that’s Jensen, for I think I just fell in love with you.” 

Jensen, with his back to the two of you, throws a thumbs-up over his head. “It went exactly like that!” Jensen confirms, nodding and shrugging as he makes his way back to his seat. “And now that we’ve all relived my embarrassment, let's move on.”

The microphone gets passed to the next person, and they ask, “Jared and Jensen are known for their pranks. Have they played any on you, Y/N?” 

“Oh yes!” you answer as Jensen takes his seat beside you and squeezes your knee. “I’m hanging like twenty feet in the air,” you begin.

“That’s like three Jared’s,” Richard adds, pointing to Jared on his left.

“Exactly,” you laugh, spreading your arms and legs out in a star to show the position you were in. “I’m full on Mission Impossible Tom Cruise-ing it, three Jared’s high off the ground, and the camera breaks.” 

The audience reacts with grimaces and chuckles. 

“They tell us it will be like ten minutes, and being the awesome trooper she is,” Jensen continues, flashing you a sweet smile. “She agrees to stay up there while they fix it.”

“Of course, it takes longer than ten minutes, so Jensen and I get bored!” Jared laughs, evilly rubbing his hands together.

“First of all, they decide to rub salt in the wound,” you shake your head, laughing at the memory. “They start doing lunges and star jumps, bragging about how comfortable and free they are.”

Jared and Jensen reenact their exercises, doing over-exaggerated lunges and squats, to laughter and catcalls.

“Stop it,” you say, around almost uncontrollable laughter. “You’ll split your pants.”

“Hey, watch it,” Jensen warns, pointing a finger, “my ass is not that big!” 

“Your ass is just fine,” you smirk, the audience agreeing with whoops and hollers.

“You're not so bad yourself,” Jensen counters, winking.

“Hey, hey,” Richard chides, shouting over the raucous audience. “This is a family show.”

“ANYWAY,” Jared says loudly. “Then we used her as target practice, trying to throw Skittles in her mouth.” 

“Let me tell you, at speed, those things are like bullets.” You explain, “I swear they chipped a tooth!”

“I’ll pay for any dental work,” Jensen confirms with a slight nod. “And to answer the question, Jared and I messed with the camera. We knew she’d get stuck up there.”

You shove his shoulder, and he teeters to one side before purposely overcorrecting himself so he’s lying across your lap. 

“We still need to get him back for that one,” Alex reminds you.

Jensen scoffs, rising to sit up again. “You tried and failed. Give it up.”

You and Alex simultaneously declare, “Never!” 

“Alex and I decided to team up and get them back,” you explain to the audience.

“They tried to get me,” Jensen says, “but Jared caught them, and he told me so it didn’t work. But they managed to get Jared,” Jensen begins laughing, unable to continue the story.

“All Y/N’s idea,” Alex insists, pretending to edge away from Jared.

Jared shakes his head, tongue sitting in the pocket of his cheek while he tries to look disgruntled but can’t hide the smile he tries to contain.

“It was genius,” Jensen manages around huffs of laughter. 

“We got the wardrobe department to take in his shirts and shorten his pants a little each day for a month,” Alex says. “But it only took two weeks before he started complaining about gaining weight and growing taller.”

Jensen’s laughter stops, his demeanor turning completely serious. “I cannot tell you how annoying he was about it!”

“I wasn’t that bad,” Jared protests. 

“Dude, you were bad!” Jensen counters, “You were googling if you could have a growth spurt after thirty. It’s all you talked about for two weeks. It was so annoying!” 

“That’s me, Jared Annoying Padalecki,” he says. Then has a lightbulb moment, or perhaps a whiskey-inspired one, and jumps off the stage. Everyone laughs as they watch him cheekily shove to the front of the question queue, dropping to his knees. 

“Hi, I’m Gen from Texas, and this is for Jensen,” he says in a higher pitched voice than anyone would expect could come out of the giant of a man. “I would like to know what your favorite scene to film was from the last season. And why is it the sex scene with Y/N from episode three?”

Jensen closes his eyes, face scrunched and lips pursed in mock annoyance as he flips Jared off.

“What a great question, Gen,” you chuckle, turning to stare at Jensen. “It was definitely one of my favorite scenes to film.”

“It was a fun day,” Jensen agrees. “Usually, sex scenes are super awkward and embarrassing, but it wasn’t. I mean, who wouldn’t want to spend a day in the back of Baby with all this,” he gestures toward Y/N, “on top of you.”

Jared gets to his feet, using a fan's shoulder to hoist himself up, and then bends to reach the microphone. “Follow-up question,” Jared begins, “this time for Y/N. Are you free for dinner tonight? Asking for a friend.” 

“Oh, for a friend,” you say, leaning to look around Jensen and at Alex. “Well, in that case, I’m free anytime, Mr Calvert.” you wink. 

Jensen leans forward, pointing a warning finger at him, “No!” 

“Urgh, Alex,” Jared groans, using a long leg to step back onto the stage, “you’re such a troublemaker!”

The next fan is given the microphone. “So it’s been twelve seasons; what mementos have you taken from the set?”

“Funny you should mention that,” Jared answers immediately, then sings, “Jensen’s in trouble. He stole the infamous demon Dean's red shirt.” 

Jensen throws his hands up, shaking his head. “I did not! I don't know who did, but it wasn't me.” 

Jared rolls his eyes. “So some ghost took it out of your trailer?” 

“Maybe,” Jensen shrugs. “This is Supernatural.” 

The drummer immediately punctuates his response, the hiss of the snare still echoing as Jared stands up in protest. But the audience is too quick, and they yell, “DRINK!” 

“You lot are a bad influence,” Jensen tells them as you all make your way to the drinks table at the back of the stage.

You hold your microphone down while Richard pours the shots. Leaning closer to Jensen, you ask, “Are you really in trouble because of it?”

Jensen scoffs, “No, of course not. But they need it for a photo shoot, and they want to auction it off for charity. They’ve been on my ass for weeks.”

“Oh.” 

“Oh?” Jensen asks, very much channeling Dean in his expression. “Do you know something about it?” 

You wince, trying to feign innocence, but it's no good. You know you’ve been caught out, and you’ll have to give it back. “I took it,” you confess.

“What? Why?” 

You can’t think of a lie quick enough. So with a nonchalant shrug, that's all for show because you don’t feel it at all, you admit, “I like it. It's a nice shirt to sleep in, and it smells like you.”

“If you want something that smells like me, you can have me!” Jensen blurts out loud enough that the mics lowered at your sides pick it up.

The fans erupt, screaming and shouting. They get to their feet and clap. Alex and Jared talk over each other, but it all becomes white noise as you stare at Jensen, who stares back. 

“Screw it,” he says, and you're the only one who hears it. But everyone sees him take a small step into your space and place a gentle kiss on your lips. He pulls back enough to look at you for any reaction, and when you lightly smile, he slips a hand down your cheek and draws you in closer for a deeper kiss this time. 

The crowd goes wild. Your ears will be ringing for days.

Jensen keeps the kiss PG13, but you go as far as wrapping a hand around the back of his neck. It ends too soon, but you remind yourself that you are being watched. He leans back, smiling happily. “Sorry if that was out of line.”

“The only thing that was out of line was how long it took you to do that.” 

He shrugs one shoulder, tongue sitting behind his teeth. “Sorry.”

Jared tries to get control of the audience, but it doesn’t work. Jensen walks to the edge of the stage and holds up a hand, silencing them with the simple gesture. 

Once it's quiet enough, he smiles, boyish and wide. “Best. Con. Ever.”

Master Lists: Dean Winchester / Main

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[zepskies]

Hey, I’ve really enjoyed reading your imagines. Would you be up for writing one where either Dean / Solider Boy / Beau, I don’t mind, has done something to upset/piss off the reader and goes out his way to make it up to her and then it’s all fluffy? I’m definitely in the readers position right now and hoping that’s what’s happening! Thank you.

Hey lovely anon!

Ooh this is interesting. So you didn't exactly ask for this, but this is where my mind went. I really enjoyed doing an imagine called "How Dean, Beau, and Ben would react to seeing your breast reduction scars."

So I'm going to do this one in that style...

Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Tags/Warnings: Angst, arguments, hurt/comfort, fluff

Headcanon: How Dean, Beau, and Ben would make up for pissing you off.

Dean Winchester

Readers of Devour Me will recognize this scenario...

Dean can be an asshole sometimes. He knows it, but that side of him tends to come out along with his protective side.

He gave you...what you would consider a "firm suggestion" on a hunt. In his mind, it was a warning you were meant to follow: hang back.

The vampire nest was bigger than you guys expected.

You jumped in to save the woman they were keeping chained...but she was already drained dry. A vamp caught you, but before you could swing your knife, hot teeth sank into your neck.

Your scream rang through the air, tearing from your throat.

Dean's machete soon followed, killing the vampire and saving you in the process. He hid the depths of his worry. His fear, when he heard your scream, saw the monster bearing on you.

He buried the true depths of that turmoil and later holds you while Cas heals you. You thank him with a sigh and look up at Dean. Before you can apologize for ignoring his warning, his words simultaneously cut you to the bone and spark a blaze:

"I hope you learned your damn lesson," he says.

"Excuse me?" you hotly reply.

"You fucking heard me! When I say 'hang back,' I mean it. Hang the hell back."

"I've been hunting long before I met you, Dean."

"Yeah, well. Color me surprised that you've made it this long."

And that sparks the knock-down drag-out fight you and Dean have in the dirty, blood-splattered barn in the middle of nowhere. Even Sam and Cas are uncomfortable in the midst of you and Dean as they deal with the bodies of the vamps.

You don't let Dean touch you that night, even though you two still share the same bed. You sleep turned away from him, curled in on yourself.

He doesn't know how to make you understand. The sight of you with blood covering your neck and shoulder, running down over and under your shirt...

He hates it more than anything.

Even in the morning, the memory of your scream rings in his ears.

You've woken up before him, leaving your side of the bed empty. He wanders into the kitchen and finds you with your cup of coffee, stirring the creamer in for far too long. He watches you for a moment. He sees you're lost in thought. Maybe your eyes are a bit haunted.

He hates that too.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greets. His voice is still a deep rumble, but his gentleness is an olive branch.

You recognize that, and your own features soften. The truth is, you're too upset and spent to be angry anymore. You really just need him back.

He guides you into his arms, presses a kiss to your forehead, and sighs.

"...Look, I'm sorry," he says. He's grateful, even for this moment. Because it means you're safe, with him.

"I'm sorry too," you reply. You squeeze him tighter and bury your face in his chest. "I love you."

Dean hesitates. His heart clenches, both with warmth and the fear of what could have been. He lets out another deep breath as his fingers soothe through your hair.

"Love you too."

Beau Arlen

Don't let that adorable scruff fool you. Beau has his moments, just like everyone else...

You don't want to feel like the jealous "other woman." Because that certainly isn't what you are.

You and Beau have been dating for a while now. You know this is something special. He is special. A big-hearted man who leads by example, and makes his daughter a priority in his life.

You admire that more than anything. You've come to love Emily as well...

However, he's been consistently cancelling on you. Dates you'd planned, dinners you'd made, "office picnics" at the precinct that got rain-checked more than the goddamn weather channel.

It seems like any time you and Beau try to carve out a moment for each other, it gets waylaid by something that "just can't wait."

Sometimes it's due to the demands of his job (which you understand).

But more often, it's because he seems to drop everything to heed his ex-wife's requests, large and small. From moving boxes in downsizing her house, to picking up her dry cleaning.

Carla always laces her requests (demands) with something understandable, like dropping off Emily at school. As a lawyer, she's smart like that.

But you're smart too, and you see her game.

She's slowly but surely wrapping Beau around her finger, and it's driving you insane.

"Can't you see she's manipulating you?!" you finally ask him. Your hands gesture widely, your brows are knitted together, and so are Beau's. His mouth is pressed in a line.

"The hell do you mean?" he asks.

"Exactly what I'm saying," you retort. "She asks you to jump, and you say, How high, darlin'?"

Part of him wants to smile at your exaggerated Texan approximation of him. But mostly, he's irritated.

"That's not true! I'm just trying to do right by her. She's the mother of my kid--"

Your hand presses against your forehead.

"I know that, Beau. Of course I do," you say. Against your will, your deepest fears take hold. They make you feel ugly inside for thinking them, let alone saying them.

"But...either she wants you back, or maybe you want her."

Beau's frown deepens. "What? What're you talkin' about."

He tries to grab your hand, but you evade him. You cross your arms to give you the excuse you need to hold yourself together.

He blows out a frustrated breath and shakes his head. "She left me, remember?"

"Things change. Feelings change," you say hotly. Your eyes run over his face, as if trying to search his heart.

Beau finally understands just what you're thinking. He softens.

And then his expression firms.

"Not for me," he says.

He reaches for you. You allow him to grasp your elbows. He steps closer into your line of vision until his broad frame is all you can see, but you refuse to look up at him. Not until his curled finger prods under your chin, raising your face up to his.

His face lacks the jovial nature he usually carries, with a side of teasing that usually drives you crazy and lightens your heart in equal measure.

No. Right now, he's serious. His thumb grazes your cheek.

"Sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere. I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise."

Your eyes are lowered, with unshed tears swimming in them. Until Beau presses his lips to your cheek. Your eyes close, and you take in the tenderness of his touch. The smell of his cologne.

When you next open your eyes, he's smiling softly down at you. It leads you to smile a little.

"It'd be nice if you didn't cancel on me so much then," you can't help but mutter, a bit petulantly.

Beau's smile slips a bit. "I sure am sorry about that. And I'll talk to Carla. But uh..."

The rest of his good humor fades. "She mentioned something about taking Emily back to Houston."

Your eyes widen. Your hand moves to grip his wrist. "What?"

"I guess I was just...tryin' to butter her up a bit. If she settled in that new house, had everything she needed, maybe she'd stop thinking about leaving," he admits. "I want her to do what's best for Emily, but...I don't know if I can take it if she's in a whole other state."

You bite your lip. You try to soothe him with your fingers carding through his hair. You pull him into your embrace, and the roles of comfort reverse.

"You do need to talk to Carla," you say. "But I want to help, in whatever way I can. You just let me know."

You can't see it, but Beau smiles as he holds you a fraction tighter.

"You already are."

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Ugh, this (lovable) bastard...

There are a lot of opportunities to piss you off, and Ben has a habit of taking them.

He's protective, misogynistic (though you're surely trying with him), and doesn't give two shits about modern social protocols like tolerance and respect.

Nor does he give a fuck about being "nice" or "pleasant" if he doesn't want to. (And he never wants to.)

When he pisses you off, however, you have to pick your battles.

You're as patient as you can be with him, knowing all of his idiosyncrasies and foibles as well as you've come to learn them.

But when he nearly snaps a man's arm off for grabbing your ass in a musky club, you have to draw the line.

(Ben settled for jabbing the man in the face, hard enough to toss him back into an entire row of glasses. You'd winced at the man's scream of pain as glass shattered into his back.)

When you send your boyfriend a look, he's both unfazed and unapologetic.

"What, would you rather have that greasy fuck pawing all over you? No one's gonna have the balls to cop a feel right in front of me, unless they want 'em shoved up their ass."

You make a face of disgust, roll your eyes, and angrily storm out of the club. Ben follows you, now getting just as irritated. He grabs your arm and turns you around.

"What the fuck is your problem?" he demands. You raise a brow.

"Not everything is an affront to your manhood," you reply testily. "Are you really protecting me, or is it just your petty pride that another man would dare touch what's 'yours?'"

You turn to walk away from him, but he grabs you again. This time by the hand. He barely resists the urge to yank you back.

No, Ben waits for you to choose. To turn back to him. You're frowning in your anger, but even he can see the thread of hurt deep down. The fear that his motivations are only selfish.

His jaw ticks. But he sighs through his nose. "Come 'ere."

Reluctant though you seem, you take a chance in drawing back into him. His arms circle around you, with those heavy hands splaying across your lower back. He cages you securely against him and looks down you. His eyes are a fraction softer.

"You are mine," he says. "I'm not gonna let these cocksuckers forget it. Because I've got plenty of enemies who'd do more than just touch you."

It sucks to be reminded of that fact, but it's the cold reality. Still, you soften, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.

He's trying to send the world a clear message: he won't tolerate bullshit, of any kind. Least of all with you.

That, you can appreciate.

And you lean up to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

Knowing Ben, it doesn't stay sweet for long.

AN: Whew! 😮‍💨 Lots of angst diverted into hurt/comfort and fluff, there.

Do you guys like these Dean/Beau/Ben "reacts?" Let me know! 😉

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Big Sky Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

DW, BA & SB Tag List (Part 1):

@melancholictearz @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman

@iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore

@agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @dope-trope-105 @liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @beskarfilms @tmb510 @iamsapphine @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @lacilou

[sylvia-plaths-fig-pie]

Teach Me ♡ Sam Winchester

Pairing: Sam winchester x reader

Wc: didn't check but it's not too long

Tw: not proof read, no use of y/n, slightly suggestive if you squint ig, mentions of cannon typical violence but not really

Summary: Sam hears you playing piano (listen to the song i imaged bellow), you're so at peace (so beautiful) that he can't help but utter the words "teach me" and that's exactly what you do.

♡♡♡♡♡

For once you Sam and Dean were actually staying in a nice hotel. Yep a hotel not a motel. It was appart of the ruse to be fancy business people, and that included staying in a nice hotel.

While the case was tough and you all had many sleepless nights it turned out to be a simple salt and burn and the ghost was gone.

And that lead you to now, standing in the hotel lobby looking at the beautiful grand piano in front of you.

You used to play piano as a child, your one constant throught the hectic hunting lifestyle growing up was piano, but it had been years since you last actually played. But how you longed to play once more.

That's why you found your self sitting at the stool, your hands tracing the keys as you thought of what to play.

You settled on your favorite 'easy' tune, one that you knew you would never forget; a piano cover of this is love.

And so you played.

And played.

And played.

You were at peace for the first time in a long time. It felt right.

Maybe in another life, if you weren't a hunter, you could have been a professional pianists. If you had proper training, and the time, and a piano all to your self. Yet it wasn't ment to be.

Sometimes you just wanted to leave this life forever, chase your dreams, maybe be a music teacher, have a family or something? That's what normal people do, right?

But you couldn't, or rather you wouldn't, you couldn't leave the Winchesters. Or at least you couldn't leave one spefic Winchester. Of course you cared for Dean as though he was your own older brother, but Sam... you couldn't imagine a life without him. You would do anything for that boy, it terrified you, and yet you stuck by him through everything regardless of the pit in your stomach everytime he was in danger, or the ache in your heart when he looked at you.

Dean made fun of you constantly, always teasing about your sight 'crush' on his brother. He always said Sam felt the same, but you knew that wasn't the case. So you had to settle for looking out for him from afar, being too scared to say anything to make it awkward.

So you played.

And played.

And played.

"Teach me."

You look up from the piano in front of you, coming out of what felt like a trance.

"Teach me." Sam said again, sitting beside you on the tiny piano stool. It clearly wasn't ment for two people to sit on, yet there he was, all 6"4 of him, perched beside you.

You studied him for a second, unsure as to whether he really ment his words or not. It appeared that he actually was in earnest.

At first you wanted to say no. Not because you didn't want to teach him, the opposite really. You didn't know whether you would be able to keep your composure if you had to hold and move Sam's hand in order to teach him.

Just as you were about to come up with some excuse you made the mistake of looking him in the eyes. His eyes, that were already trained on yours, were embodying his 'puppy dog' eyes as you and Dean coined them. Eyes that melted your heart and made it impossible to say no.

"Fine." You rolled your eyes and sighed at Sam, looking away from him. 'Don't make a fool of yourself' you heard yourself saying in your head.

You were just teaching him how to play piano, Sam's a curious guy, there is nothing more to it, no lingering feelings or longing stares (well from him anyways). You were just being a good friend.

That's what you and Sam are. Friends.

"I'll teach you happy birthday since its almost Dean's..." you trailed of catching a glimps of Sam's wide smile from the corner of your eye. "So you need to put your thumb on C."

He didn't move.

You looked at him in the eyes now, raising an eyebrow. First he asks you to teach him, but now he isn't following the very first instructions? You were confused untill-

"I don't know why your looking at me, I don't know which one C is." Sam laughed.

Shit. You'd forgotten about that.

"Oh sorry," you mumbled awkwardly, "it's the one before the two black notes, can I?" You gestured to his hand, signalling to Sam that you wanted to place it in the correct place your self.

"Sure go right ahead," you pretended not to notice his smile growing even wider as you took his hand and rested it in the correct position on top of the piano. Surely his reaction was just in your head, right?

"Wait, I'll put my hand on yours and I'll tap what fingers you need to play the notes, does that make sense." Your explanation was convoluted but Sam just nodded giving you the green light.

You moved to rest your hand on top of his, leaning into him so that your right hand was atop of his right hand.

Blush crept up your neck, you prayed Sam didn't notice. Judging by how focused he was on your hand ontop of his hand, he seemed not to notice.

"Ready?" You questioned.

"Go easy with ne now," he joked, "it's my first time."

"Shut it winchester." You laughed. You loved it when Sam was sassy, he knew it too.

Gently you began to tap his fingers so he played the correct notes.

C C D C F E

C C D C F E

*click*

The sound of a camera stop you, spinning round to see what the source of the noise was.

Dean was stood beside the piano with a with eating grin on his face. "Cheese," he said sarcastically as he pocked his phone.

"Dean what are you-?" You began to ask but he cut you off.

"I'm going to show it to everyone on your guys' wedding day" he said nonchalantly, smirking.

"But we're not-"

"Sam and I aren't-"

"Why would you-?"

"That's so weird to say-"

You and Sam both began talking at the same time. Each of you growing extremely red. Your hands still on top of one another's.

"You both need to cut the bullshit!" He cried shaking his head. And with that Dean turned and left before calling down the hallway, "I'm going to the bar to get drunk, you better have confessed some feelings when I'm back cos I'm suck of hearing you mope about one another to me!"

You and Sam stared at eachother.

Silence.

You wanted to scream, or cry, or run away, just something. But you didn't know what to do. Even if you did, you were frozen. You just stared at Sam, eyes wide, shocked at Dean's outburst.

"Dean's right."

"what...?"

What!?!?

Did Sam know about your silly crush? Did Dean tell him? You were going to kill him.

Or did he mean.... no he couldn't, could he? Could Sam really reciprocate your feelings. You swalled down the thought, not wanting to get your hopes high for nothing.

That's when Sam began to speak once again.

"My whole life I've always wanted to find my person you know." Sams eyes were facing down at the piano key's unable to meet yours. "And I thought I found people in the past, but all of them... well you know what happened."

Of course you knew what happened. He'd told you in a moment of vulnerability in one of the first nights that to spent all night talking while researching a case. You knew eachother inside and out. You knew eachother darkest and deepest secrets. You knew eveything about eachother.

"And since then I've been so scared," he continued, "scared that if I got close to anyone that they would end up the same. Then you happened. We met you on a hunt and you've stuck with us ever since and I kept being drawn to you, and I hated myself for it. I wanted to keep you far away to protect you, but the more I wanted to protect you the more I wanted to..."

He trailed off and took in a large intake of breath, lifting his eyes with determination to meet yours.

"The more I wanted to be closer to you, the more I wanted to hold you to be there for you.. to kiss you." His eyes momentarily flicking down to your lips, your breath hitched.

"The more I relised I was in love with you, that I am in love with you." He flipped his hand so that he was now holding yours, lacing his fingers between yours. You didn't speak, you knew he had more to say and you were more that happy to listen. Your brain was going a hundred miles an hour, Sam's words were simultaneously grounding you and making your brain go into overdrive, but his hand holding yours assured you that this was real. This moment is real. It's real.

"So I talked to Dean about it, about you, alot and I've finally stopped fighting it. I know you can take care of yourself, and I know your not afraid of the risks of this job, the risks of being near me, as you've lived through so many horrors with me, you were by my side though everything and I don't think I can go on any longer without you knowing, I could never forgive myself for letting you get away..." He stopped speaking, he said what he wanted to. It was your turn to speak now. Yet you couldn't find the words, they all seemed lodged in your throat. You wanted to say it back but you couldn't, all you could do was look at Sam, your eyes wide.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't-" Sam began, trying to make you feel comfortable, he was worried you didn't feel the same. He wasn't aware that it was complete opposite reason as to why you couldn't speak. But you cut him off with a new found confidence.

"I swear to god Sam if you don't kiss me right now." You pleaded, avoiding his eyes.

A moment passed. Then you felt his hand leave yours. Panic surged through you. Oh god what had you done?

Then his hands were on your face and his lips found yours. You closed your eyes falling deeper and deeper into him, you were intoxicated, you couldn't get enough. His lips were rough and soft, neddy and patient all at the same time. It was so much, it would be too much, but it wasn't, it was perfect.

It felt like you and Sam were the only two people in the world. It felt right. All the horrors of life, all the monsters, demons, angels, eveything, none of it mattered in that moment. Nothing but the two of you existed in that moment.

And then all too soon he pulled away.

"I'm assuming you feel the same way?" He asked almost bashfully, redness creeping up his neck.

"Sam winchester, I love you and all your dorky-ness," you dramatically declared as Sam rolled his eyes, "and i-"

You were cut off by his lips finding yours once again. You were just where you wanted to be and for once the world seemed right, or at least it seemed okay with same by your side, or more accurately Sam's lips on yours.

"FINNALLY!"

You and Sam jumped away from one another, startled by a loud cry.

Dean was stood at the bottom of the corridor, his arms raised in the air in a sort of celebration.

"TOOK YOU BOTH LONG ENOUGH!"

You and Sam just looked and eachother and began to laugh.

"I guess he does have a point..." you commented between laughter.

"Yeah I guess that means we have to make up for lost time." He laughed, resting his hands in your hair.

"What do you mean?" You asked, playing along, ot was much more fun this way.

"Well I suppose I can think of a few things..." he trailed of suggestively, "what do you say?"

You smiled at him knowing exactly what he ment, and couldn't help but reply with what lead to this moment.

"Teach me."

[julesthequirky]

The Choice: Chapter Thirteen

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.

Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn’t be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there’s a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.

Characters: Fem!Reader, Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy/Ben.

Warnings: Female masturbation, female fantasy, language, typical Soldier Boy behaviour, cheesy euphemisms.

W/C: 1,596

A/N: I can only apologise for how long it took me to get this chapter out. I don't really have any excuses, except for the fact that I had a bit of a break, wrote some other ideas knocking around, and then had another break. I wish I could keep a schedule, but they don't work for me. I struggled with this chapter, struggled to push the story forward to get to where it needed to be.

A/N 2: I can't believe it's only day three! As a writer, I, too, forget the concept of time within the story. And it's not until I read past chapters that I realised how slowly time goes by.

The hot water splashed down, and you leaned your head back, getting a face full of the spray.

Was Ben right? Was Dean jealous? Or perhaps he had just been mad. He slept in the next room. A wall was shared, after all. He had to have heard everything. But Dean had no reason to be jealous. He hadn’t shown any inkling that he wanted anything more than platonicness.

Ben knew how you felt about Dean. About Beau. He’d seen all your interactions with the hunter and nearly bitten your head off in Walmart when he found them ‘impersonating’ him. Ben was an enigma. One moment he was flirty and casual, bantering with you, and the next, he was aggressive and damn near violent, threatening anyone that gets on the wrong side of him. And it was him you had fooled around with first. Not Dean. Not that you initially intended to mess around with any of them.

Water ran down your body in rivulets, and your hands followed the flow. Again, Dean, in complete ecstasy, slipped into your mind. Would he grip the shaft tightly? Would he squeeze to feel the intensity of pleasure? Would he stroke his thumb across the slit, rubbing pre-cum across the mushroomy head of his cock?

Below, you throbbed, and again, your mind turned to comparisons. Would Dean be as wide? Would the head of his cock feel so pillowy against your entrance? Would it pulse as strongly? Would he feel as heavy and as thick as Ben?

You shuddered, arousal burning through your body as you tried to wipe those thoughts from your mind. It didn’t feel fair. Dean was his own person. But…Jensen…Jensen was the man who played them all.

Your hand reached for the shower head. It unhooked from the wall attachment, and you changed the head settings. The water sprayed out powerfully in a more concentrated manner.

You gripped the shower head and the shower bar with your other hand. And before you could think yourself out of it, you turned the shower head upside down.

You gasped. A sharp inhale of air. Your hand tightened, gripping the shower bar. The jet of water shooting up from the shower head pelted your clit with intensity.

You bowed your head, hair dripping into the shower floor, pulse spiking as Dean masturbating occupied your mind.

You changed the angle of the shower head, and your knees almost buckled. Your toes curled, and you shook as you fought to contain yourself.

Your pussy clenched.

Your eyes squeezed shut. Dean, touching himself, left your mind, and Ben replaced him. You shook your head, trying to get Dean back. But Ben stayed. And he stood in all his glory, shameless, hand wrapped around his cock and giving lazy strokes, wearing that damn smirk.

Then, his words from yesterday came to mind.

“Would you suck me off as prettily as you suck my fingers?”

And in your mind’s eye, you were on your knees, pleasing Ben, wrapping your lips around his cock. You saw yourself sucking, could feel the weight of him on your tongue, could taste the saltiness of him.

In your mind, you watched as the rapture completely took over Ben. His head leant back, eyes closed, and his fingers fisting your hair. He cursed under his breath as you slowly dragged the man’s soul from him.

Would Dean react the same way? Or would he watch?

Heat swamped your gut at the thought of Dean watching you suck him off. Your body shook, edging closer to that inevitable brink.

You’d please him. Who? All of them.

Ben.

Dean.

Beau.

Beau. With his cheeks tinted pink, and looking at you hungrily sent you hurtling over the edge and crying out, your legs almost buckling from the strength of your orgasm.

The shower head clattered to the floor, continuing to spray upwards. You leant against the steamed-up shower wall.

You hadn’t done that in a while. Not with a showerhead.

*

The TV played in the background. Some football game Ben had put on that Beau was absorbed in. With three men living with you, sports were perpetually on.

After breakfast, Dean excused himself and headed upstairs with a coffee, claiming he needed to decipher the language on the frame’s box, reinforcing the idea that maybe he was mad at you. He’d asked to use your laptop to aid him in his research, and you were compliant, handing him the device and the cable. You had written the password on his hand, desperately trying to ignore the sparks rushing up your arm.

Trying to read with Ben glancing at you occasionally was nigh-on impossible. All you wanted was to relax with a steamy romance between a Rugby player and a sassy fan. At least this one wouldn’t come to life.

Ben nudged you from where he was sitting beside you. You glared at him as he rudely pulled you out of the world where fans have hot instances with insanely built Rugby men.

“What?”

He leaned his head closer.

“If you needed help installing a pipe in your bathroom, you could have come to me.”

What the shit?

You tilted your head in confusion. What the Hell was he going on about?

“You know….”

He kept his voice low so as not to capture Beau’s attention. This was something he wanted to keep between you both.

“I’m just saying you could have come to me.”

You shook your head.

I shake my head and try to get back into my book.

“You need installations in your bathroom? Y’know I’m a dab hand at DIY.” Beau asked, finally turning away from the TV.

“What, no.”

Ben snorted and shook his head.

“Ya hear that, Y/N? Beau is a dab hand at installing pipes in a bathroom.”

Ben’s tone was a little sarcastic for your liking. And whatever he was alluding to, you just weren’t getting. Ben wasn’t one to mince his words, so why was he being so elusive? It didn’t make sense.

You sighed, closing the book you’d barely read anything of.  You placed it down and stood up.

“Ben, could I see you in the kitchen, please?”

You saw Beau’s quirk of his eyebrows in your peripheral vision as you started walking out of the living room.

 Ben followed you into the kitchen. He closed the door behind him, a smirk on his face. You stood there, leaning on one hip, arms folded against your chest.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but it’s gotta stop.”

Ben’s smirk grew wider as he stepped closer.

“Aw, c’mon. I’m only messing. Besides, maybe next time you have a solo flick fest in the bathroom, you should remember that some ears are far more acute than others.”

You stood stock still. Shit. He’d heard everything. That’s why he was teasing the Hell outta you.

“So, c’mon, what prompted this solo session?”

Your cheeks burned. Could you tell him? Probably should. He was only gonna bug you otherwise.

“It was what you said about Dean…”

He grinned wickedly.

“Doll, if a man beating his meat has you wetter than the Pacific Ocean, then baby, I don’t mind doing a little corn shucking just for you.”

You blushed. You actually blushed. Maybe it was the cheesy euphemisms, but Hell, they made you redder than a tomato.

“You gunna listen to him?”

You scratched the back of your neck, unsure. Honestly, you didn’t know what you were gonna do. The thing was, Dean wasn’t the only one concerned. Beau was, too. That meant that Beau thought the same as Dean. Or similar. Beau had mentioned intentions, and it was such a dad thing to say.

“Because, if you did, it’d be real shitty of you.”

Fuck. This was all you needed. Ben would hold a grudge. You knew that. But Dean. Dean had your heart. It was stupid. And yeah, you wanted to make him happy. But the real question was: what would make you happy? And that you didn’t know.

Sighing and easing yourself in a seat, you rested your head in your hands. Your phone buzzed. You slipped the gadget from your pocket. Your brow furrowed upon seeing a message. It was from your mother. Wondering what she wanted, you clicked it open.

Mom: Dear Y/N, Mark mentioned to your father and me that he saw you in Walmart with a man. He thinks it's your boyfriend. Is he? Why haven’t you said anything to me? I’m your mother. Your father and I insist on your presence at dinner tonight, 7:30 PM. Don’t be late. Dinner will be at 8. Your father said texting you was more likely to get your attention. He also said to bring your man. Sincerely, Mom.

Fuuuuuuuuck. You didn’t need this right now. You groaned, letting the phone clatter to the table.

Fucking Hell.

“She can fuck off.” You muttered.

Ben snorted, taking a seat beside you.

“Problem?”

Yeah. At this moment in time, you had too many problems. You were not bringing Ben around your mother and her partner. However, it made you smile at the thought of her clutching her pearls when Ben cussed like a sailor as he spoke with his mouth full. Then it faltered. Ben, behaving as he does, would double down her efforts to get you with Cole. No. It would be best to pick someone else. But who? And would Ben understand? Probably not.

You faced him.

“Yeah. My mother’s invited me to dinner and wants to bring my so-called boyfriend.”

Tags: @yvonneeeee, @curlycarley, @angelbabyyy99, @sassy-pelican, @k-slla, @deans-spinster-witch, @ashdoctor, @eretsupremacy89, @fanfic-n-tabulous, @deans-number-one-fan, @afro-hispwriter, @tiredstrangerr, @zemosdarling228, @justjensenandhisalteregos, @ladysparkles78, @nescavaneck, @winharry, @stellasfictionalworld, @mishkatelwarriorgoddess, @freefallthoughts, @realityshifter111, @slvtforhotchner, @hobby27, @grxyveins, @emily-roberts, @jamerlynn, @mimaria420, @kr804573, @just-levyy, @leigh70, @eexphoria

If for some reason you aren't tagged, or I've missed you as I went through to update my tags, lemme know. And A, we'll grumble about Tumblr together, or B, I'll chide myself and update the tagsheet.

[tuesdaykiss]

“touching toes”

rafe cameron social media au

“he’s over more and more, had to give him a whole drawer. to be honest, kinda like seeing his trainers by the door.” — olivia dean, ‘touching toes’.

synopsis: after finishing her fashion studies at college in nyc, y/n moves to outerbanks to live with her grandparents. she worries about the loneliness that comes with being in a new place, knowing only her cousin topper and other relatives… that is until she is acquainted with a certain cameron.

part — 8 | 9 | 10

masterlist

you were ready, with a minute to spare. the three of you made your way to rafe’s truck, located on the driveway. topper eagerly lead the way, which provided rafe with the perfect opportunity to brush past you.

“told you i was good at keeping secrets,” he murmured, referencing your obliviousness regarding his magazine debut, until it was made public.

before you could even muster a response, he threw a wink in your direction and caught up with his best friend, disappearing out of the door.

sarahcameron

liked by yourusername, johnbr and 821,935 others

sarahcameron in the country club, we all fam

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sarahupdates this is her page, not his.

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topper’s story

liked by rafecam, yourusername and 7 others

the day was filled with secret glances; eye contact held across rooms, unbeknownst the everyone surrounding you. it was though a million words were said through a mere look, the intensity of rafe’s gaze causing you to blush.

you watched him, as you sat sipping whatever alcoholic beverage sarah had ordered you. stuck in a complete daydream, it was as though you weren’t even present in the room as you watched the way his hands grasped his bottle of beer so effortlessly.

his charm, confidence and sarcasm oozed across the room; you could feel the effects even from such a distance.

it was only then, when his hand wrapped around the shoulders of another, that you took notice of whom he was in conversation with. a beautiful, dark-haired girl, her lips tinted the colour of cherries as they worked to highlight her endearing smile.

“who is that?” you asked, nudging the blonde next to you; so eager to know who it was her brother was speaking to, that you had thrown all composure out of the window.

“oh, that’s sofia,” sarah shrugged, “i’m pretty sure they’re fucking, but rafe would never admit it.”

it was like your heart had been clawed out of your chest and stamped on. an ache erupted within you so deep, you were almost left breathless: he was good at keeping secrets, that was for sure.

sarah noticed your sudden change in expression; brushing it off as confusion she clarified, “she’s a pogue.”

you couldn’t even summon the strength to feel anything — a hollow and numbing feeling taking over. you felt like a fool: to you, it had meant something… but to rafe? it was clearly nothing more than a routine. another night, another girl; a meaningless conquest. and you fell for it.

that’s what you get for moving so fast, you internally cursed yourself, before finishing off the last of your drink and rising from the table.

“where are you going?”

your fingers pressed against your forehead, feigning discomfort as convincingly as you could, “i need to go home,” you muttered, frustration clear in your speech, “this headache is killing me.”

“i can come—“

“no, don’t let me ruin your day,” you insisted, needing to independently evaluate the day’s events, “it’s your brother’s big day, you should be here.”

with a slight smile of reassurance, you turned on your heels and headed to the awaiting taxis that lined the side of the country club.

your phone

a/n: uh oh… you didn’t think this would all be a happy little fairytale did you?

taglist: @my-name-is-baby @yesshewrites1 @urbrunettebombshell @leather-n-velvet @fruitcakerafe @littlefreak-liz @wdwbts101

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Not The Man I Knew (Dean W.)

Summary: you couldnt even recognize him anymore.

Warnings: angst

WC: 567

Read on ao3!

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The world felt like it was breaking down around you. The last few months had been a whirlwind of nightmares, hunts gone wrong, and the ever-present fear that Dean—your Dean—was slipping further away from the person you once knew. But the man sitting before you, eyes glowing a menacing shade of yellow, was no longer that man. He was someone else. Something else. A demon.

You had tried to fight it. You had tried to stay hopeful. But the reality of it was undeniable.

He smirked, leaning back in the chair, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you carefully. The sound of his laugh sent chills down your spine. He looked so much like Dean, but there was nothing like him left in the depths of his eyes.

“I don’t know why you’re even still here,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You should be running, sweetheart. You’re in way over your head.”

You swallowed hard, the words stinging, but you knew the truth. He wasn’t the same. Not anymore. But that didn’t mean you were ready to let go.

“I still believe there’s good in you, Dean,” you said quietly, your voice firm despite the weight of doubt pressing against your chest.

His eyes flashed at the sound of his name—your name for him. The sound of it seemed to almost stop him in his tracks. But that smirk never left his lips.

“You can believe whatever you want, but that Dean is gone.” He cocked his head, studying you like you were a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. “That man doesn’t exist anymore.”

You took a step closer, heart pounding in your chest. “I know what’s happened. I know what you’ve become. But there’s still a part of you in there, Dean. I can feel it.”

His gaze darkened, anger and something else flickering behind his eyes. He leaned forward suddenly, the chair creaking under his weight.

“How do you want me to react to this news?” he asked, voice low and dangerous, though there was a hint of something else—almost like hurt.

You took another step toward him, willing yourself to stay calm despite the fear curling in your stomach. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” you whispered, your hand trembling as it reached out. “But I’m not going to give up on you. Not yet.”

Dean’s eyes softened for the briefest moment, his jaw tightening. “You should. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

But you weren’t afraid. At least, not in the way you thought you’d be. You looked into his eyes, trying to see past the demon façade. You could still feel it—there was still something of Dean in there, somewhere deep down.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you said quietly, your hand brushing against his. “Not even now.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. He just stared at you, as though he was trying to decide if you were a fool or if you were stronger than he thought. The silence between you both felt endless, stretching taut like a wire about to snap.

Finally, Dean exhaled sharply, his expression unreadable. “You’re making a mistake,” he muttered. But you didn’t think so.

You stepped forward, closing the space between you, and for a moment, everything felt right.

“Maybe,” you said, “but I’m willing to take the chance.”