winchestermysterymachine

[winchestermysterymachine]

Mans Best Friend Reader! X Dean Winchester

“Cherry Pie”

{the word “fine” doesn’t really work for you when you bake Dean pies}

You were a woman on a mission. You might not be the prettiest girl (Dean disagrees, "You're the most gorgeous thing this world has ever created"), and even though you're not the smartest (Dean also disagrees, "Shit sweetheart, I've never seen someone read the same way you do. Mhm, explain to me what Wendigos are. uh-uh, let me hear it.... Exactly baby, I have no fucking idea what you just said, but that's why I know you're the smartest woman on the planet."), and you might not be the most mentally healthy ("Please. I've never seen a woman make insane look so sexy"), and you're not the best at dressing yourself ("Is that my shirt again. Nuh-uh, what the hell are you thinking? Put that shit back on.") and quite possibly, you talk too much ("Don't. Don't ever let me catch you saying that shit again, you speak until your lungs give out. I love hearing you speak... I love hearing you scream-"). And he can agree that you are quite reckless, ("Fuck! Why do you keep doing that- don't interrupt me! I cannot lose you. I go in first, that's always the plan! We don't deviate from the plan! The plans a plan for a reason!").

But god, do you make the best pies in the entire world. At least, usually.

There are several pots and pans and fruits lining the tables, you've got frosting and pie dust coating your cheeks, and a a cherry stem tangled in your hair. You shine with sweat, and the kitchen is so warmed up, you're just glad it's winter time or else you'd be burning up.

With another huff, you slam down a miniature pie in front of Dean. You're on the verge of bursting into tears because for whatever reason, they're just not good for him today. He knows you're quite the perfectionist. Empty plates circle Dean, he's got a fork, a knife, and a spoon all lying dormant beside him while he read over some lore while you baked the fourth pie.

You made pumpkin pie first. "How is this?" you asked skeptically, plating it in front of Dean. It was the whole fiasco yesterday which had started this. Dean stared down at the pie like he was just announced king of the world, pure awe. "You made this?" he asked, taking the fork from you. You nodded, staring down at him. It was your first time making pumpkin pie ever, and Dean, being the Pie King, was always the first person you'd go to after making a treat. Dean hummed, "Smells nice."

"But how does it taste?" you snapped. This was all late into the night yesterday when it began. He cut off the tip, forked it into his mouth and nodded. "Tastes fine." he looked over at you. Your eye practically twitched. "j-just fine?" you stuttered, hands faltering to your hips. "Cause if it's just fine, I can try it again!" you go to pick up the plate, feeling ashamed for giving him something that was just fine. Not perfect, not even great, just simply fine. No not even okay it was fine. Fine was mediocre, fine was meh, good was yes! This is good, good was great even depending on what you're talking about but fine was never enough to be anything but fine. Just meh. Fine. Fine. Fine.

Dean caught your wrists, "The hell are you doing woman?" he pushed the plate away from you, almost in a 'how dare you try and take my pie' kind of way. "I can't serve you mediocre pie!" you shrieked, basically crawling onto the table to grab the pie again. "Get off the table!" he pushed his chair back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you off the table until you were safely planted on the ground again. "Baby, fine pie is good pie." he tried to console you. But it was already engraved in your head.

He thinks it's terrible, and it's horrible and he wants me dead. He's gonna kill me for butchering his pie. I ruined his love for pie!

He planted a kiss to your forehead softly, cupping your face on either side with his hands. "I love all your pies. Plus, this was only the first time you've made pumpkin pie. I can't wait for the second or the third."

Him bringing up your future pies. Already? You clutched onto his wrist with both hands, your arms stayed up in the air even after he'd left, book in one hand, pie plate in the other, as he walked to your shared bedroom.

Whatever he said was not what he meant. He basically said this pie was so shit woman, that I can't wait until the next pie to see how much worse you've gotten, if that's even possible. But hey, maybe you'll make it decently next time that I won't want to run away as soon as I get it so that I can toss it in the trash behind your back so I don't hurt your feelings. You flopped down onto the chair, grabbing the notepad and pen there, writing down ways to make the pumpkin pie better. All the tricks you had seen online. You stayed there for a while, writing down other pies you hadn't tried yet either. A couple of ones you had made before so that you didn't have to feel like a complete failure. Ones you had made so many time you don't even remember their real name, cause dean renamed them all. 'Y/n's Pie', 'Y/n's Best Pie', and 'Y/n's Other Best Pie', and of course the classic, 'Y/n's Other, Other Best Pie.'

It was late when Dean walked back into the war room, took one look at you and sighed, hauling you over your shoulder while you clutched the notepad and pencil, pressing it against his back so you could finish writing while he carried you to bed.

He woke up later than normal, without you beside him. The bunker smelled sweet. Like warmed treats and Dean already knew where you were. The kitchen.

You made blueberry pie, a second pumpkin pie, apple pie ('Y/n's Best Pie), and were waiting on the cherry pie to finish while you started on a key lime pie. Banana cream pie was to be made afterward, and Dean really loved when you made Pecan Pie, so you'd do that (it was your 'Y/n's Pie'). Lemon meringue was your 'Other Best pie', and the miscellaneous berry pie was your 'Other, Other Best Pie'. You hadn't really ever made Pumpkin Pie, because it wasn't your favorite kind, and never Coconut Cream Pie because you can't really find those all the time.

"Sit." you ushered him into a seat, finding another plate across from him. "You joining me?" he grinned sleepily and you shook your head. "No, I was gonna force Sam to eat to but he disappeared after he made coffee. Wonder where he ran off too." you said absentmindedly, already beginning to hand him a slice of blueberry pie. Dean just ate the pie and nodded. "This is fucking fantastic baby." he praised, eating the piece without a second thought. He practically moaned at the taste. "I have no idea what I did to deserve you." he continued, eating until the plate was wiped clean. And then another piece was laid before him. "I got up early to do this again." the pumpkin pie. "All great, last nights was so good too." he mused, eating the second piece. "You're not fattening me up to stuff me inside the oven and make me into a pie are you?" he paused and you glared at him. "Eat the pie Dean!" he nodded and ate it. "Does it taste better than yesterday?" you asked, staring at him intently. Dean glanced around the kitchen for a minute at the mess and nodded. "Tastes the same really." he chuckled softly, not thinking anything of it. You stared off into the distance for a second, half-blinked, and then turned around again, cutting him a slice of apple pie. "I know you like this one." you slip the plate onto the table.

Dean's mouth practically waters and he nods. "I fuckin' love your apple pie." he grabs his fork, but pauses just before he can let it sink into the treat. "Why are you making so many pies?" he stressed the are, making you pause. You smile at him sweetly, it's so fake though. "Eat. Your. Pie."

This is when it begins to feel a little strange. He eats the pie, you work on the next batch. It was when you had put the key lime pie in the oven, left the cherry on the counter to cool before serving, and began working on your next two pies at the exact same time, had he realized this was next level weird. He pushed his plate away, reclining back in his chair so he could really drink in your appearance. You looked a mess, a pretty mess, his favorite mess, but still a mess. You were using a spoon as a hair stick to keep your hair out of your face, you were drenched in fruit juices, and powder. Band-Aids on your finger tips he hadn't noticed before. "Hold on sweetheart." he said as you slid the cherry pie before him. He caught your wrist in one hand, keeping you from leaving. "I added a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top." you attempted to pull your hand away, thinking he just wanted you to explain the production to you. Dean glanced down, but then looked back at you. "Oh, and that's powdered sugar." you concluded, pointing at the plate again. Dean did a double take, realizing there was powdered sugar on top, he falters for barely a second before staring at you. "Makes it.. Sweeter?" you stumbled, wondering why the hell he was staring at you like that, and keeping you trapped between his fingers.

"I'm not dumb baby, what's going on?" Dean checks his watch. It's almost 10 AM, and you've not let him stand up since seven. "It's nothing Dean." you waved him off. Dean scoffs and pulls you onto his lap sideways. "I'm not done cooking!"

"I don't care about the cooking. I wanna know why you're running around like a headless chicken cooking me pies. You spellin' me or something?" he searched your eyes but you shook your head no. "I don't need to spell you, you're already mine." you mumbled and Dean nodded. "Exactly. So, then what's going on?"

"You don't like pies." you mumbled and Dean's eyebrows furrowed. "Repeat that for me."

"You... You said my pie was... Was fine! I don't do fine pies, mine are great, or fantastic or-or amazing but never just fine-" Dean pressed a kiss to your lips to shut you up. "And who said was was a bad thing?" he whispered after he pulled away. "Fine is fantastic too." he explained. "And you need to get it through that thick skull of yours, that fine is fucking phenomenal. I'd make love to your pies." he said earnestly. "I think... We have, we used that strawberry pie, you remember that, that one time in uh, well you know." Dean gazes off fondly, but instead of agreeing and staring off into the sunset like he is, dreaming about pies and sex, your bottom lip trembles and your eyes water. Dean fixes his face the second he hears you sniffle. "Why're you crying." he resituates you on his lap so you're facing him now, and he cradles your head into his neck. "I want you to like my pumpkin pie."

"Baby I said I did." he rocked you both side to side calmly, trying to ease your nerves. Dean knows you can be a little bit of a perfectionist. Almost too much of a perfectionist where if things don't go your way, you lose it a little bit. But he loves that about you, that you care so much about him, about what he thinks. He loves that you value his opinion so much, but at the same time, he hates it when you doubt yourself because he didn't outright say "I would have sex with your pie" as soon as you make it. Lesson learned, because now he will tell you more than it's okay, or it's great, or its phenomenal. You clutched onto his shoulders, sniffling, and letting your tears fall. "You're just exhausted from baking all day, and it's hot in here huh?" he says softly and you nod. "We're gonna take a break from baking the pies, and we're gonna go take a nice calming bath," he mumbles quietly, soothingly. "Because you are the sweetest woman in the entire world. I love your pies, and I love you."

"You said I'd," you hiccup. "make a better pie next time." you force out and Dean nods, nudging his cheek against the top of your head. "I know what I said, and I know what you think I meant." you pulled back a bit, wiped your tears and stared at him. "What you heard was, this pie isn't good but the next one will be. What I meant was, this pie is fucking delicious, I can't wait to try the next one that you'll make even more perfect." he plants another kiss on your lips. "And you'll add whipped cream too it huh?" he tilts his head down, staring at you, giving you more ideas. You nod and reach for a notepad but Dean pulls you back against his chest. "No more pie talk." he grumbles, scooting back in his chair to stand up properly. "Do you feel better?" he asked and when you nodded he stood, making you clutch onto him tighter, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. "Wha-"

"The only pie we're gonna be talking about for the next two hours are cream pies, and the only thing I'm gonna be eating is you."

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

reader is lowkey sookie st james coded.

[winchestermysterymachine]

{Man’s Best Friend Reader x Sam Winchester ; Texts}

{you’re all blue except for the last two, you’re gray}

He just knows you so well

You kinda wanna punch him every other minute

May god curse him and his extra tall ass.

One minute you’re all over him, then the next you don’t want him anymore.

Sam likes to think he’s funny.

The collection of shirts in your duffle is ever growing

Poor Sammy drank too much go go juice last night and how he’s regretting his decision.. or is he?

You had your sex and then you made amends. He’s yours again!

Text from you to Sam. does he want the house tour?

Sam must’ve broken his phone or something because he won’t text you back.

[winchestermysterymachine]

{Man’s Best Friend Reader x Dean Winchester ; texts}

{you’re blue & pink}

they call dogs a man’s best friend!

the kind of texts you receive from Dean after a hunt goes sideways.

he loves you and all four of your personalities.

bullshit repeats himself, isn’t that how the saying goes?

you’re gonna have a great time at dinner.

Dean thinks he’s funny mid argument

Dean drank too much go go juice

big deal, you’ve been here before and you’ll be here tomorrow.

Deans mad because his sugar talking isn’t workin tonight.

A text from Sam. It’s like he doesn’t even know how weird his brother is.

[winchestermysterymachine]

https://www.tumblr.com/winchestermysterymachine/793887128184586240/httpswwwtumblrcomwinchestermysterymachine786

sorry for rambling in advance lol

valid points for the public i’ve personally never engaged with benson boone or harry styles (after 1D at least) but why are you okay with sabrina singing abt wanting to fuck and in the same breath you’re saying you’ll never listen to female rappers again bc they do just that as well as for male rappers they are called out sometimes but then again men are not held to the same standards as women are HOWEVER my point was that people paint sabrina as this feminist icon when she is not and tho you never claimed to be one of those ppl my point still stands that even tho she’s never said herself to be a feminist or her music to be she still profits of that image ppl project onto her and that is wether you like it or not hurtful to the cause bc her audience and the tiktok ppl who already have a warped view of what feminism ACTUALLY IS will see sabrina and her music and say “hell yea she’s a feminist icon” and tho i can understand how refreshing and fun it is to see men get made fun of and killed in her mv’s it’s nothing more that another way of inserting men in everything even if if they’re painted in a bad light

she sings abt men hurting her and taking her for granted in all her latest 3 albums and it’s just all there is to her music

again im not putting the whole weight of the feminist movement on her she can still do whatever she wants with her art and her audience can take it and dissect it however they want im just stating facts i actually do enjoy her music it just irritates me how ppl just make it bigger than it is

I meant male rappers sorry I have the biggest headache rn and I’m working with my grandma lol. (And I just enjoy it when women talk about sex more bc it’s about pleasure and loving yourself and a man’s sex songs are all about how hot she is, how she belongs to him and I just don’t resonate with it)

I mean you can also say the same thing about men, why do they always make music about women? We’ll never have an answer for it.

Also idk if you’re asking a question I don’t feel good rn.. or if you’re trying to explain something (I get what you’re saying, I just don’t feel good enough to like continue the banter)

[winchestermysterymachine]

https://www.tumblr.com/winchestermysterymachine/786182684123774976/sabrina-carpenter-portraying-a-submissive-side

i agree that she’s not setting us back but also she’s not the feminist icon yall want to paint her as like inherently all her music IS abt men wich nothing wrong with that but she’s still very much male centered even if she’s going the i hate men, men are stupid and i hate them way

i can appreciate the lyricism tho

I’ve never claimed to support the idea she’s a feminist icon.

My whole thing is: WHY ARENT WE GETTING MAD AT MEN FOR NOT HAVING REVOLUTIONARY LYRICS

why does Sabrina carpenter get sm hate for having “bland songs” yet everyone’s working tirelessly to support BENSON BOONE and saying give his boombeam ice cream song a chance.. how about no? And harry styles wrote watermelon sugar (he’s one of my favs so don’t attack me) and it was song of the summer for consecutive years (still on going)

And rap music to me (more so the new SoundCloud rapper shit) it’s just men wanting to beat up their wives, #freemyboy (who robbed a gas station, committed arson, and killed someone) and everyone is fine with it?

Why do women have to constantly attempt to stick up for themselves and be louder than everyone else just to be heard? Whereas a man is sitting silent and everyone is 🤐

It’s why I’ll never listen to male rappers again bc they just wanna fuck, SO WHO CARES WHEN A WOMAN JUST WANTS TO FUCK?

(Edit: I originally wrote female instead of male but I meant male lol^)

[winchestermysterymachine]

My Man On Willpower

how much willpower do the winchesters have?

“My man on his willpower is something I don’t understand, he fell in love with self-restraint and now it’s getting out of hand, he used to be literally obsessed with me I’m suddenly the least sought after girl in the land, my man on his willpower is something I don’t understand.”

“He’s busy, he’s working, he doesn’t have time for me my slutty pajamas not tempting him in the least, What in the fucked up romantic, dark comedy is this nightmare lately?”

Dean Winchester

Dean was never the kind of guy to turn you down. But he's been running on fumes, whiskey, and coffee. He stays up, or more likely never even goes to bed almost every night. He reads up on lore, trying to take down the next big bad after you all, attempting to doom society with another apocolypse. This strains your relationship every time. You both are exhausted before the days even begun, every morning is a struggle to climb out of bed, if you two even venture into it when the sun sets. You always did your best to make the reading into little dates or challenges, exchanging quick kisses during every flip of a page. But Dean's too distracted right now to even look at you, even when you're in your best dressed. Not even your slutty pajamas, always used to tempt him, did nothing. Dean loved lace. He liked silk too, it was smooth and always slipped down your silky skin like water. But lace was something special, he liked how delicate it was. The pretty patterns etched into the fabric always did something to him he couldn't quite explain. It reminded him of a kids Christmas present, all wrapped up, dolled up just for him. The bunker was quiet tonight, only the three of you living in it currently. You exit the bathroom, skin moisturized, no makeup, freshly shaven. You felt like the prettiest peach on the tree. You smelled good, you felt good, you weren't even that tired tonight really. Then, you pause in the doorway, wrapped in a robe, underneath it, Dean's favorite lingerie. Lingerie was a delicacy for you both, so as much as he literally wanted to rip it off your body, he knew they were expensive and he didn't wanna trouble you with finding new ones. It was a whole thing. But his favorite was well preserved. Your satin robe covered your body, hiding the gift underneath it. He's just been working so tirelessly lately, all you wanna do is show him that you're there. You want to be his stress reliever, make him understand that you care for him.

He doesn't even glance at you.

You blink a few times, wondering what kind of horrible nightmare this is. He's never been the best at ignoring you, especially not when it comes to sex. He's got one knee bent up in the air with a book perched against his thigh, and a beer resting against the crook of his other bent knee, against the bed sideways. You clear your throat but all Dean does is nod. "You coming to bed?" he grumbles, flipping the page. "I was hoping you'd take me to bed." you tried to act sexier, but his energy was throwing you off. This was so not the Dean you knew. He felt a little bit more distant than usual. "I'm not feeling it tonight." he runs a hand over his face, tired eyes, furrowed eyebrows. You get to the side of the bed, and rest your knee on it, crawling to situate yourself against his thigh. "Listen, you keep reading like this, you're gonna go blind." you warned, pulling the book from his grip. "Can you stop." he stares at you. He doesn't look angry, but his voice is warning you. He looks exhausted though. "Dean. If you go blind, you can't drive baby." you go for a humorous tactic, maybe if you pull a laugh or even a scoff from him, it'll ease the tension. All Dean does is grab your hips, and flip you onto your back. A squeal passes through your lips and the book you took from him clatters to the floor. He kisses your cheek quickly and then gets off the bed. "I'll be in the library if you need me." you freeze as he bends over to pick up the book. The funny thing is, you do need him. You roll onto your stomach and watch him long enough to see he's leaving. "Nice pajamas." his voice echoes down the hallway back to you as he walks through. You scoff, slightly hurt. He's seen what you're wearing, and you're not tempting him in the least. His self restraint is getting far too out of hand.

"He's busy, he's working, he doesn't have time for me, my slutty pajamas not tempting him in the least."

Sam Winchester

Sam Winchester is a lot better than Dean when it comes to restraint. You can see it cause whenever Dean wants sex, he'll go to a bar, a club, find a stripper or some poor unsuspecting girl on the side of the street. Sam however, he's on this new health kick. No sex for at least two weeks, and you, you feel like your skin is crawling with need. He's not doing it on purpose, he's just trying to re-center himself, find a new purpose that isn't just killing monsters and having sex while the adrenaline rush still last. And he's not ignoring you completely. He will bend you over every once in a while when you're messing around with him too much, spank you, finger your. He'll hold you against his chest with your legs spread wide too. But his fingers, God they're great, but it isn't him. Sure, sex is not everything. But it made you feel close and safe and protected and loved- and yes, he loved you in other ways! But God, he was being more than annoying about it.

Every time Sam wanted sex, he'd just go for a run. Leave you aching and needy in the middle of the motel room or the bunker, and just disappear for an hour or two. Or he'll take a quick cold shower before you see him again. You wonder who's really being played here? Himself probably because he has to go for a run or do yoga or shower at least twice a day. "Alright Sammy." you cross your arms over your chest as Sam stretches his legs a bit before his next run. "The joke is over now. This is your second run today!" you cried, waving your arms around sporadically. He smiles slightly, and stands upright. Even just him simply standing there is enough to make tears run down your thighs! He grabs both your wrists and situates your hands down back at your sides to get you to relax. "Trust me, this is gonna benefit the both of us." he plants a delicate kiss to your lips. For a second, you try to make it something more, but he pulls away when he feels the vibe change. "I never agreed to this!" you argued as he went back to stretching. "I know, and I'm sorry. I just feel like we both need to spend some more time not having sex."

"You think we have too much sex?" you questioned defensively. "No! No, what I mean is that, instead of having sex, we should find other ways to express our love for each other." he faces you again, and cups your cheek between his hands. "You used to be so obsessed with me." you pouted and Sam shook his head. "I'm still obsessed with you."

"You won't even touch me properly!"

"I know this feels bad now, but trust me, I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good when we do it again, huh?" he whispers in your ear and a tingle shoots up your spine, shutting you up properly. "Exactly." he kisses the top of your head and pulls back. "No, I really would like you to come on this run with me. Doesn't even need to be a run, we can go for a walk." he suggested, tempting you. He can literally talk you into anything. You groan. "Let me put on leggings."

"Yeah, okay, okay, he's on his big journey to find a little zest of life, a new sense of purpose, but why?"

Castiel

"You know you can touch me Castiel?" you remind him, eyebrow quirked in confusion. Sometimes Cas goes through these little moods. Sometimes, he can't get enough of you. He's clingy, he's loving, he always initiates. He even wants all four of your personalities! But this second Castiel, was a stranger and you weren't quite sure what to do with him. You loved him dearly, but this was something that made you giggle. It was like he was afraid to touch you. Maybe he's just made another mistake for the greater good, or maybe he accidentally got someone killed, but either way, he kinda draws into himself. You lean against the table, hands pressing against the wood. Cas stands on the other side. "Of course I know that." he agrees with a curt nod. "So then... Come over here." your narrow your eyes, challenging him. Of course, you knew he wouldn't. He's been in one of his moods for a few days now. "I don't think it'd be.. Very appropriate." Cas stumbles over his words. You however, saunter around the table. With every step towards Castiel, he makes another step back. "Castiel." you warned. "You wouldn't even touch me with a twenty foot pole." you scoffed and Cas shakes his head, loosening a button on his button up. "No- that's not true. It's just that Sam and Dean could come back any moment, and I'd hate-" he backs himself up against a wall, and you stand barely a few inches in front of him. "Stop talking." and he stops talking. "I feel like the least sought after girl in the land." you mumbled, trailing a finger across his chest and down, down. "We're supposed to be reading up on lore right now."

"The lore can wait Cas, I cannot. Please."

"No." he slides out from between you and the wall. The feeling of hurt washes over you. You can see the bulge in his pants. He wants you, he needs you, and you're right here in front of him. You're practically waving in his face, begging him to bend you over the table and have his way with you. Cas gets a far-away look in his eye, and his look of nerves is replaced with a serious expression. "I need to go, Dean is praying for me." he nods at you, and you reach for him, but fall through empty air, right onto the bed. You huff. You were supposed to be in bed with Cas, not all alone.

"My man won't touch me with a 20-foot pole, my man's forgotten his devotion, where he's gone God only knows."

so, is the joke over now?

[winchestermysterymachine]

Alright well I wasn’t expecting them to find out LIKE THAT and then ALL THAT HAPPENED AFTERWARDS… ik I said it wanted it to blow up in their faces like 30 seconds ago but that was just…

Short rant about Buffy the vampire slayer Season three

I HATE how willow and xanders little affair while they’re dating other people!!!!! I don’t even care for oz that much and Cordelia lowkey pmo’s SO BAD too.

I hate how Xander and willow and Cordelia ATTACKED BUFFY FOR HIDING ANGEL and then as soon as they found about him, the tried to kill him! I totally understand why Buffy had to leave in the first place. IMAGINE KILLING YOUR BOYFRIEND BRUH!!!!

Idk it’s just weird plus how Xander isn’t even on Cordelia’s level and is cheating on her like gtfo out. Not to mention he liked Buffy, dated Cordelia, but is in love with willow? Still flirts WITH EVERY WOMEN INCLUDING FUCKING TEACHERS. and I get this is an old show and this stuff was like fine ig but I haven’t seen anyone bring this up anywhere. I AM TEAM BUFFY!

If this were real I’d be telling oz and Cordelia sooooo quick.

But yeah I just thought it was odd how quick Xander was to judge but then… he’s cheating on his super hot, super popular gf (who didn’t even want him originally) and I get he’s got a past with willow but yeah. It’s lowkey irritating me so much it’s hard to watch. I cannot wait to see if it all blows up in their face I WANT EVERYONE TO GIVE THEM THE SAME ATTITUDE THEY GAVE BUFFY WHEN SHE LEFT AND KEPT ANGEL A SECRET OR ELSE IM GONNA BE PIISSSEEEDDD

[winchestermysterymachine]

Short rant about Buffy the vampire slayer Season three

I HATE how willow and xanders little affair while they’re dating other people!!!!! I don’t even care for oz that much and Cordelia lowkey pmo’s SO BAD too.

I hate how Xander and willow and Cordelia ATTACKED BUFFY FOR HIDING ANGEL and then as soon as they found about him, the tried to kill him! I totally understand why Buffy had to leave in the first place. IMAGINE KILLING YOUR BOYFRIEND BRUH!!!!

Idk it’s just weird plus how Xander isn’t even on Cordelia’s level and is cheating on her like gtfo out. Not to mention he liked Buffy, dated Cordelia, but is in love with willow? Still flirts WITH EVERY WOMEN INCLUDING FUCKING TEACHERS. and I get this is an old show and this stuff was like fine ig but I haven’t seen anyone bring this up anywhere. I AM TEAM BUFFY!

If this were real I’d be telling oz and Cordelia sooooo quick.

But yeah I just thought it was odd how quick Xander was to judge but then… he’s cheating on his super hot, super popular gf (who didn’t even want him originally) and I get he’s got a past with willow but yeah. It’s lowkey irritating me so much it’s hard to watch. I cannot wait to see if it all blows up in their face I WANT EVERYONE TO GIVE THEM THE SAME ATTITUDE THEY GAVE BUFFY WHEN SHE LEFT AND KEPT ANGEL A SECRET OR ELSE IM GONNA BE PIISSSEEEDDD

[winchestermysterymachine]

{Man’s Best Friend Reader x Sam Winchester ; Camera Roll}

A worried Sam is a pretty Sam.

Overlayed with a filter, you snap a quick photo of the boys and their toys.

Sam took a photo of you walking to interview the next witness.

Your bed for the next few days.

Sam taking pictures of you while you ‘get ready’ for your date tonight.

You found a gig to house sit for the day, and their puppy loved Sam.

Trying to decide what kind of go go juice you wanna drink tonight.

Ponytails and puppies.

Forcing them to be manly, responsible men and do all the laundry for you.

Sam just casually watching tv, but you can’t get over how pretty he is.

[winchestermysterymachine]

House Tour

do the winchesters want the house tour?

“Thank you for dinner, baby, I had a really great time, I really loved the conversation and that your car self-drives, the pineapple air freshener is my favorite kind, well, this is me, but if you have time.”

“Do you want thе house tour? I could take you to the first, second, third floor, and I promise none of this is a metaphor, I just want you to come inside, but never enter through the back door.”

Dean Winchester

"I had a great time tonight Dean." you stared up at the man hovering above you. Even with heels, he still looked so big and so strong, sturdy. And for once, not wearing an old flannel. "Yeah me too." he agrees simply and you two stare, getting lost in each others eyes for a moment before you clear your throat. "You wanna come inside for a bit? I know we just had dinner, but I have snacks if you're hungry." he nods. "Sounds good." you grin and unlock the door, pushing it open. "I'm pleasured to be your tour guide." you giggled, welcoming him into your home. "Hot tour guide." he corrected with a sweet kiss to the side of your temple. "uh-take your shoes off!" you pointed back at him and he nodded, sliding his beat up boots off. "Sorry. I just got the floor done. I spent a fortune." you apologized quickly but he shrugs. "They look waxed." he observes and you nodded. "Because they are." you confirmed and Dean nods. "It's cool, I like it."

"I'm so proud of my design." you lead Dean throughout the house. "You should be, it looks great. Really feels like a home." he picks up random knickknacks, and you explain them in great detail, which only makes him laugh. Your chemistry is honestly so strong with Dean, stronger than you've felt with anyone else. He seemed like he'd be a great boyfriend, and the longer you walk him through the house, the more your skin burns with desire. Every time you show him a flat surface, the desk, the couch, the coffee table, the kitchen counter, you seriously pray to every angel, every God, that'd he just bend you over. "You wanna spend the night?" you suggested, ripping the lid off a container of cookies, handing a couple to Dean. "You can eat something else if you don't want cookies." you attempted and he flashed you a grin. "No. These are my favorite actually." he responds cluelessly, making your ego deflate a bit.

Was there something about you that was putting him off? Maybe you just weren't flirting good enough. You liked to think you did very fine on your own, after all, you did invite him inside. You just needed him to want you as bad as you want him. "I can probably spend the night. I'll just have to tell Dean." he nods, chewing on a cookie. "Oh God. He's probably gonna think we're being naughty." you giggled and Dean tilted his head. "You could say that again."

"Why don't we go upstairs?" you walked backward and Dean nodded, following after you. "I don't usually allow people to eat upstairs, but I will definitely make an exception for you." he laughed. "Does that have a double meaning?"

"No!" you shrieked through a laugh. "I promise, none of this is a metaphor." you flop down onto your bed and stretch out a bit. Dean places the cookies on the bed side table, and crawls into bed with you. "Damn, cause I really wanted to eat something else." you can hear him whisper. You breath catches in your throat. "What like... Our left overs from dinner?" he shakes his head, hair wild and free. "We can be a little reckless." you said between bated breaths. "It's all ensured." Dean grabs your waist and nods. "Good. I tend to be a messy eater."

"the couch is really comfy, comfy. i've got some chips ahoy if you're hungry, hungry."

Sam Winchester 

"This is me." you said nervously, pointing behind you as if it weren't the most obvious thing in the world. You told him you lived here, and the front door had a wreath on it that just screamed you. If he couldn't tell by now, then he'd be an idiot. Sam shoves his hands in his front pockets and nods. "Like your wreath." he compliments casually and you grin. "Thank you. I made it actually." you make small talk for a couple beats, before you lay it on thick. "You know, if you're still free tonight, you don't gotta work or anything, you can come inside?" you trail off a bit and Sam glances back at his car. "Yeah. Yes." he nods. You grin, bite down on your lip, and flip around, shoving the key into the lock and turning it. "I can give you the house tour." you call over your shoulder as you toss your heels underneath the table in the entryway. "You don't have to take your shoes off, those bitches were just hurting." you explained, shutting and locking the door behind you both. If it were any other guy, who wasn't Sam, there was no way you'd be so comfortable letting a man come into your home. But Sam was Sam, and even if this was the first time he's seen your place, it's not the first time you've been on a date. You trail around the living room and the kitchen, making yourself right at home as you explain everything in minor detail to Sam. "This is the couch, I've got some Chips Ahoy if you're hungry." you lounge across the couch, trying to make yourself look much more appealing than cookies. "You have a back door?" Sam asked, walking over to the backyard. You scrambled up from the couch, a little on edge because he hasn't even really attempted to touch you more than a hug, a hand hold, or a cheek kiss. A cheek kiss! Only virgins do cheek kisses. You press yourself against the glass with your arms spread wide. "We never enter through the back door." you said dramatically, blinking up at him flirtatiously. He grinned awkwardly. "What... Does it... Lock you out or something?"

"Kinda..." you both blink at each other for a moment, but then Sam turns his head. "Oh shit, you got stairs?" and then he's wandering up them. "Yes!" you shouted, trailing behind him. He touched just about everything he could, the plants, the paintings and framed photos, asking questions along the way. "I have a first, second, and third floor." you spoke and Sam nodded. "Looks smaller on the outside- that's cool though." he nods. Finally, he pauses at your bedroom. "This where you.." he walks into the room, calm swagger, like he has no care in the world. "Have se- sleep. It's where I sleep, my bedroom yes." you stuttered, nodding to try to re-center yourself. "My closet." you swish both your hands toward the large room. "This main room is kinda like a second living room. it's great for having friends over." you explained the seating arrangements. There was another set of couches in the center, a small table in front, and a TV diagonal, so all people on the couch could watch movies. "My friends and I have sleepovers here. Sometimes I do other stuff here too." you turn around to face Sam, running a single finger up his broad chest, but his eyes are elsewhere. "What kinda stuff?"

"Like- uh. Art! Art yes. Artsy stuff, I like me a DIY." you chuckle, and Sam passes by you. "Is this the third floor?" he walked up the spiral staircase, you took off after him, just a stair behind him. "Yes. This is where all the magic happens." you tried to say in his ear, but he walked off. "Wow." he sighed. "Your house is the coolest." he grinned stupidly. "Sam!" you finally break, shouting at him to pull his attention. You've never seen Sam so distracted before. "What?" he stares back at you like a deer caught in the headlights and drops the pillow back into it's spot. "I wasn't gonna steal it!"

"No! I mean... Do you wanna stay.. Here. The Night... With-with me?" Sam blinks back at you and nods dumbly. He'd do anything you'd say. "As long as you don't make me wear pink sexy pajamas." you smirk. "No promises."

"we can be a little reckless cause it's insured, i'm pleasured to be your hot tour guide."

Castiel

"Pineapple is my favorite." you pointed to the scented air freshener in the car, as you're parked outside your house. "Dean bought it for me." he explained, poking the pineapple spikes. "Do you like the fruit or just the scent?"

"I like both. I drink some pineapple juice every morning." you explained and he nodded, deeply in thought. "Pineapple juice can be very sweet, but also sour. You must really enjoy the taste." he noted and you shook your head bashfully. "Actually it- never mind. It doesn't matter. Do you wanna come inside?" you pointed up towards the house and Castiel nods, shutting the car off. "I can. I don't have a bed time." you chuckled. "Glad to know." you attempted to push your door open, but Cas holds a hand up. "Dean told me to always open the door for a lady." you smile softly as he exists the car. He's wearing the suit, but no trench coat. You'd be lying if you said you didn't miss it. It was just so him. He pulls the door open for you, and holds your hand to assist you out of the car. "Well thank you." 

"Of course." he nods, and you walk him up to the front door. He lingers a few steps behind, careful to not enter your space too much. "This is my house." you introduced. "It can be your house too." you shut the door behind the both of you and Cas shoots you a look. "Why would this be mine?"

"Well Castiel, sometimes when two people like each other, they move in too continue to see home compatible they are, get closer." he nods thoughtfully. "I suppose so then, because I enjoy learning about you. I like your weird obsession with pineapples and clothes. You look great by the way, did I ever tell you that?"

"About a million times. C'mon, come see the living room." you show him your book case, the television, the toaster oven, your coffee maker. "I make a mean espresso." you leaned against the counter casually and he nods. "Does it say mean things, because I can kill it if they're too mean to you-"

"No!" you laughed, patting the coffee maker. "When someone says they 'make a mean' anything, it just a metaphor. It's like saying they make it so good, better than anyone else can." you explain. "Interesting. Where do you sleep?"

"Upstairs." he turned and walked in the direction of the stairs. "I like the layout of your home. All the things are pleasing to look at."

"Well, whatever's mine is now yours. This is my room." you clack your fingernails against the wooden door, and then push it open. "I took a lot of time designing everything."

"It shows. It's all so... Color coordinated." you shrugged and sat down on the edge of your bed as Castiel wandered around, plucking thing's off shelves and taking them all in. "What can I say, I like pink." you shrugged and Cas nods. "I too enjoy your obsession with pink things. It's very soft." you pat the empty space beside you. "Come sit." he walks over and plants himself beside you, however he leaves a lot of room between the both of you, and he stares ahead absentmindedly. "You can touch me Cas."

"I know that."

"Okay then." you both stare ahead at the wall with fairy lights, and clips containing polaroid and printed photos of you and your friends, your family, places you've been. "Do you wanna have sex?" he asked bluntly. Your shoulders drop in relief as you nodded, crawling over to his lap, and pushing his chest down so his back hits your plush sheets. "God, I thought you'd never ask."

"some say it's a place where your dreams come true, my house can be your house too."

so, are you coming in or what?

[winchestermysterymachine]

Mans Best Friend Reader! x Dean Winchester

“In The Doghouse”

{ deans being an annoying shit, until you challenge each other, then he realizes he’s in deep shit }

He had been following you around all day long. It's typically cute, the way he can't get enough of you. Dean hates space. He tucks you against his chest during scary movies so you're not afraid, and he's got your back during every hunt. He's taken bullets for you. He'd do anything for you. Except leave you alone of course.

The one day where you had a random burst of energy, bustling around the bunker with your iPod in your pocket, earbuds in your ears, blasting music to help keep you concentrated on cleaning. At first, Dean didn't mind. He was just reading at the table, his green eyes flickered above the pages turning absentmindedly. You looked pretty, and peaceful. You sang and hummed along the words. Some he didn't recognize, others he did. You rearranged books in the library, dusted them off. You even found book marks or notes from the Men of Letters who had shoved them into the book and never touched them again. You did your thing and he did his.

Until you disappeared into the next room, the kitchen, to which you'd finish the dishes. There weren't many since the three of you were the only ones who really lived there and Castiel didn't need to eat or drink anything. Sometimes you and Dean would search up the most horrendous recipes and cook them in the middle of the night, often resulting in the bunker smelling like smoke for the next few days. Dean didn't like that he couldn't keep his eyes on you anymore. He grabbed the lore book, shuffled over to the kitchen. You moved around less in the kitchen, and you back was turned to him the entire time.

In the war room, you'd smile at each other, maybe share a quick kiss or ruffle his hair whenever you passed. The table was on the opposite wall, and you probably didn't even know he was in there. Dean huffed. He knew you weren't ignoring him, he just needed to make hi presence known. He left his book open on the kitchen table, bare feet padding across the cement floor until he was right behind you. You were still humming like earlier, just softer. Dean wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your bodies together. You jumped at the sudden touch, dropping the mug you were cleaning in the sink with a clatter. You tilted your head back and to the side so your cheek was almost against his chest. "You scared me." you smiled up at him. Dean grinned, leaning down to kiss your lips. "Sorry." he murmured even though you couldn't hear him. You just turned back to cleaning. You picked up the mug and let the soap slide off with water beside setting it aside to dry. You picked up a plate this time, scrubbed it down and ran it under more water. Dean was practically on you the entire time. You paused again and looked up at him. "Do you need something?" you asked, staring into his eyes. Dean pursed his lips and shook his head. "Okay, cause I'm kinda busy." you squirmed a bit, and Dean's hold on you relaxed until he wasn't holding onto you anymore. "Alright Cinderella, my bad." he stepped back, finally giving you space. He waved his hands in surrender. You had no idea what he said, but at least he stepped back. So you went back to cleaning.

Standing behind you, much closer than the table, he could get a better look at you. Some old sweatpants of his, a long sleeve shirt, now pushed up to your elbows. You looked good. You paused again, but Dean barely noticed, too enraptured by your butt to pay attention. "Stop staring." you spoke loud enough for Dean to snap back into reality. He nodded, sat back down, and began to read again.

The longer you stayed at the sink, the more antsy Dean got. First, his thigh bounced up and down. He kept checking the watch on his wrist. Barely two minutes since he last had his hands on you, and you didn't want him to hold you while you washed dishes and you smelled like strawberries and cleaning products, and you were wearing his clothes, and you were moving.

He watched as you flicked some water from your hands, grabbing a towel you wiped your hands down, then finished wiping down the mugs, plates, bowls, and silverware and then you set them aside into the retrospective positions. The silverware in the drawer. Plates and dishes stacked in the cabinet. He couldn't swipe the grin off his lips when you'd stand on your tip toes just to put the dishes in the top. He could have easily helped, but watching you struggle was cute. Plus, your shirt rode up every time you put the dishes and the mugs away revealing the tiny flames of the anti possession symbol. Sam and Dean had it on their chest, and although it was hot on them, and he said it'd be hot on you too. You planned on getting it somewhere else. You thought about the side of your stomach, but getting it on your lower back, almost like tramp stamp, was even hotter in your opinion. And Deans.

He huffed every time you stood back up on your tip toes. It was almost like you were doing it on purpose. You'd only put up one mug, or one plate, or one bowl at a time. Nothing more. This was tortured. Dean's been tortured and none of it was as painful as this. He was about to say something, or do something, but then you were off again, rounding the corner without another word, just mumbling lyrics under your breath as you went. Dean reached over and slammed his book shut. He'd try again another day. He had much better thing's to read. Like your facial expressions as he made you feel so good. Or your lips as you incoherently cried his name.

Dean followed after you, listening for the sounds of your muttered singing. Bathroom was your next stop. You walked around the bathroom, collecting trash and empty bottles. There were a couple of randomly located bathrooms in the bunker which irritated you to no end. The bunker seemed to stretch on forever in some directions, it's why you hated staying there alone. You could definitely get lost if you weren't paying attention to your directions. There were multiple times you had to call Sam or Dean to come inspect a new room you somehow found.

Dean leaned against the doorway while you wiped down the mirrors after spraying them with some kind of cleaning product. He never really watched anyone do this before. He's seen cleaning ladies at motels, but that was a job. This was just you keeping yourself busy. You were quite the dedicated little cleaner. You swiped down the soapy bubbles, jumping again at the sight of Dean standing behind you. "Stop following me!" you snapped, turning around to glare at him. In one hand you clutched the spray bottle, and the other you held a rag. Dean smirked. "Just checking up on you."

"Dean I'm fine." you crossed your arms against your chest. The entire time you've been cleaning, you've felt Dean's stare boring into the back of your... Everywhere really. You had expected him to just pounce on you like a cat with a mouse, especially when you decided to tease him in the kitchen. But this was a lot different then what you'd expected. He just followed you around silently. "I didn't say you weren't fine." he objected, crossing his arms over his chest to mimic you. Only making you more frustrated. "Do you want something from me then?" Dean shook his head no. You sighed. "If you continue to piss me off, you're sleeping on the couch." you decided and Dean's jaw dropped as he stared at you in surprise. "Wha-I-I didn't even do anything!" he fought back and you just held up a hand. "Exactly. You're a perfectly capable man, following me whenever I clean. Not even trying to help me either." you pointed out. his gaze flickered to the floor, shoulders sagging. "I can help." he finally muttered. "Great." you tossed a rag at him which he caught ungracefully. "Other bathroom. Now." you pointed at a bucket on the floor filled with supplies. "Oh c'mon sweetheart," Dean groaned, slumping towards you. "Clock is ticking." Dean eyes narrowed slightly. Challenge accepted. "Fine. Whoever finishes cleaning the bunker first gets to do whatever they want to the other person." he grinned seductively. "Always about sex Dean." you scoffed and he shrugged innocently. He figured you'd take the offer, however you gripped onto his worn out flannel. "Counter offer." you spoke up, pulling him back to you. "Whoever finishes cleaning first, has to continuously clean the bunker until the winner says they can stop." you said, and Dean rolled his eyes. "Your obsession with cleaning is out of hand." he mumbled. You pulled him down further, level with his ear. "And they gotta do it naked." you pushed him back and Dean stumbled, gripping onto the wall to catch his balance. "I like where your head at." he pointed at you. "Challenge accepted sweetheart." he walked closer, sticking his hand out to shake on it. You gripped his hand delicately, and he knew you were just playing coy. He reached up and tugged both earbuds from your ears before dashing off with loud laugh. "You're so annoying!" you screeched after him, scrambling to shove your earbuds back in.

You both worked harder than you have before, now with a new, and much greater deal than you had to begin with. You both cleaned every random room, taking mental note of who cleaned what room. There was to be no sabotage, or you get punished (in whatever way deemed fit by the victor), and Sam was going to decide if the 'clean' was actually clean or Dean's version of clean (shit shoved under the bed, no sweeping or mopping, or anything really). You danced around each other like leaves in the wind. You had gone into one room, and grinned as you shut the door behind you, as Dean attempted to enter. "Sorry baby, she's clean already." you grinned, walking away from him. Dean scowled after you, running off to find something else to clean. You're both competitive, and you definitely don't want Dean to watch you clean naked, not that you'd really care, it's more-so because you'd be losing to Dean. And you don't lose. You cleaned quickly, but didn't leave behind remnants of mess like Dean did. You cleaned more rooms than him, at least that was your own personal goal, something Dean didn't even think on betting against. Even though it pissed him off that his next target was already finished by the time you got there, smelling like strawberries and your giggles echoing around the hallway, taunting him. He got back at you by stealing your stuff, tugging on your ponytail or a piece of stray hair, plucking your earbuds out whenever he passed to give himself a few more seconds.

With you getting around to the rooms quicker, and leaving less rooms for Dean to clean, it was no doubt that he'd finish first. And then Sam was called in. You were slightly out of breath, looking more flustered than your usual self. You had stripped into shorts and a tank top earlier, only making Dean pause in his tracks when he was vacuuming. You weren't here to play, and it only made Dean push himself harder.

Sam walked around into each room, silently assessing each room with a poker face. He played the game, writing down fake notes on a scratch piece of paper like this was a serious game, and he was a serious game show host. The three of you ventured back into the war room, sitting around the table as if it was a meeting. Sam crossed his hands over the table. "Seems like we have an obvious winner." he spoke finally. You were seconds from scoffing. Of course he'd pick Dean over you. Sam didn't know the punishment of the game, but he didn't need to. He was Deans brother after all, and they hardly ever left each other alone, even when they swore they would take a break from each other. Dean always bitched in Sam's ear about everything, and you were sure he'd complain to him about this too. "Dean, you did finish cleaning faster than y/n did." he nodded at Dean who grinned evilly, glancing over at you mockingly. You flipped him off and Sam held up a hand. "Hold on guys, I'm not done yet." he said and Dean shot him a glare. "No, no, you're done. I won." Dean nudged his finger down into the table, enunciating his point, then at himself. "Maybe you finished faster, but you said that whoever did a better job cleaning, was the winner, and I'm the judge of this thing, so I say y/n wins."

Dean's eyes narrowed to slits. "Backstabber." he grunted out. Sam just stood up, crumpling his paper and tossing it swiftly into the trash. "Don't be a sore loser Dean. She cleaned over half the bunker. And it smells like fucking strawberries." Sam explained, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Thank you so much Sammy." you bat your eyelashes playfully. He nodded. "I'm gonna... Go for a drive now." he excused himself. Dean slouched in his chair. You smiled to yourself and finally unplugged the earbuds, wrapping them around the iPod, you shut the device off and set them on top of the table. You stood up and walked around the table to Dean. You slide your pointer finger up from the neck of his t-shirt, all the way up his throat, until you tilted his chin up. His eyes flickered up to yours, his plump lips parted when he sucked in a deep breath. "C'mon baby. Time for me to collect my reward." you purred, taking his hand with your empty one. Dean sucked in a deep breath.

"What the hell did I get myself into."

[winchestermysterymachine]

🐾 Man’s Best Friend Reader! Outfits

{ HUNTING }

{ RESEARCHING LORE }

{ DRIVING IN THE IMPALA }

{ GOING OUT WITH FRIENDS }

{ INTERVIEWING PEOPLE }

{ WATCHING CRAPPY MOVIES }

{ EATING IN A DINER }

{ DATE NIGHT }

{ WALKING THE DOG }

{ SEXY PAJAMAS }

[winchestermysterymachine]

I for one, loved the album. Sabrina has never made a SINGLE ALBUM WITH ANY SKIPS. even her old music is fantastic !! This album obviously isn’t for everyone, but neither was short n sweet and neither is fruitcake or emails I can’t send.

This album was a FUN album, poking FUN at herself and other girls who’s lost their brains over boys who don’t deserve their (the girls) love. This album isn’t meant to MEAN SOMETHING if you want an album that means something, listen to emails I can’t send.

And also, the songs DO have meaning. Just because a song has an upbeat track or isn’t slow in tempo doesn’t mean it lacks emotional depth. In fact, the fun songs that are sad (we almost broke up again last night, nobody’s son, don’t worry I’ll make you worry, slim pickins, bad reviews) and still upbeat have a lot of meaning too, you’re just confused bc the song isn’t slow.

Not everyone wants to write slow sad songs when they’re upset. Some girls don’t want to CRY when they’re upset, some girlies wanna dance and sing and drink wine/apple juice and laugh a bad breakup off.

Obviously everyone is entitled to their opinion however this album isn’t: Country. Her Worst Album. Boring.

In fact, there’s a lot of things in here she’s NEVER DONE BEFORE. ofc she’s still got the sexual innuendos and the metaphors, but men can say “I wanna fuck a girl animal style” and bitches go bonkers and say “wow! What a lyrical genius!”

Like pls… enough is enough. And let a girl live damn

[winchestermysterymachine]

Mans best friend reader master list is officially out!!

Yes I am the crazy girl who gets all her inspiration from music albums

nineteen. march pisces. sabrina carpenter. the beach. mexican. long car rides. curly hair. dancing. abba. square nails. journaling. coffee. harry styles. brown eyes. lingerie.

Short n’ Sweet!Reader

short n’ sweet!reader is confident, sexy, imaginative. she’s a busy woman who always falls for the bad guys. she desperately tries to see the good in everyone, she’s sweet (like an angel) as long as you stay on her good graces. she’s addictive like a shot of espresso in the morning. she’s got a retro vibe to her and even though she doesn’t enjoy hunting, she knows her way around every weapon. she’s best at undercover rolls and interrogating people with her charm to get them to answer questions.

NEW!Man’s Best Friend!Reader

mans best friend!reader is all about getting revenge on the man child’s of the world. she’s the best damn hunter around because she has so much animosity built up in her after being treated like trash. she’s not the best at explaining her feelings, but she’ll try for the sake of her man’s sanity. she’s reckless, but thinks it’s for the greater good.

Emails I Can’t Send!Reader

emails i can’t send!reader wishes she had a time machine. she has a million emails resting in her drafts just waiting to be sent, but instead she’s just lies in her bed to reminisce about her past relationships. it’s a whole lot of nonsense, but she can’t help but wonder how many things they thought about until they got to her. she’s midnight showers, crying to sad songs, the gentle melody of a soft guitar. she’s a tornado, too self destructive but a helpless romantic. she rewatches romcoms like it’s her job and goes broke at small business cafes.

Fruitcake!Reader

fruitcake!reader is sad, lonely, and hates the christmas season. all she wants is new years to come, but even then she doesn’t have someone to kiss. she’s been dreaming of a white xmas, but this ‘cindy lou who’ doesn’t know him like she does, santa doesn’t even know him like she does. it’s ruining her spirits. she’s a warm christmas, fresh baked cookies, and white frosting covered in sprinkles. she’s carefully wrapped gifts and snow angels. but if he doesn’t buy her presents, she knows somebody who will.

Other Masterlist

[winchestermysterymachine]

Man’s Best Friend!Reader

mans best friend!reader is flirty & fun, and tired of never getting laid! there isn’t anybody’s son she’s willing to trust after all she’s been through. but don’t worry, she’ll make you worry. she’s taken hunting as a way to get out her pent up anger (and horniness), and now she’s met the winchesters. thanks for stopping by, unless you wanna come inside— but never through the back door!

{Tag List}

MBF!Reader camera roll {Dean} {Sam} {Castiel}

MBF!Reader texts {Dean} {Sam} {Castiel}

MBF!Reader Headcannons

MBF!Reader Outfit Inspo

{MANCHILD}

{TEARS}

{MY MAN ON WILLPOWER}

{SUGAR TALKING}

{WE ALMOST BROKE UP AGAIN LAST NIGHT}

{NOBODYS SON}

{NEVER GETTING LAID}

{WHEN DID YOU GET HOT?}

{GO GO JUICE}

{DON’T WORRY, I’LL MAKE YOU WORRY}

{HOUSE TOUR}

{GOODBYE}

{ Unreleased }

{ENJOY THE SUMMER}

{GARDEN}

{VOGUE}

{WHY SO SEXY?}

{ SUCH A FUNNY WAY}

{ Imagines ; Requests: Open}

Dean { CHERRY PIE } { IN THE DOG HOUSE } { COYOTE UGLY } { DO YOU BELIEVE IN MIRACLES? } { IMPALA }

Sam { PUPPY EYES } { GROW A GARDEN } { BOY I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE } { HAPPY HOUR }

Castiel { WALK HIM LIKE A DOG } { GO PUT ON SOME CLOTHES } { FEELING LUCKY? } { LEAST SOUGHT AFTER GIRL }

[winchestermysterymachine]

Short n’ Sweet is music played in an ice cream shop on the beach in Malibu and Mans Best Friend is music for pretentious jazz clubs with only cocktails and martinis

Tune in next week for mans best friend reader! X the winchesters (and castiel!)

[winchestermysterymachine]

Short n’ Sweet Reader! x Sam Winchester

“I Don’t Wanna Be Tempted”

The rain pitter-patters against the window panes as you stare out them. Your arms are crossed over your chest to trap in as much warmth as you could. It was supposed to be a girls trip, that's what this was meant to be. Your best friend in the entire world was getting married in two weeks, and you and four other girls were celebrating her bachelorette party in a small Winter Wonderland-esque cabin. Icicles dripped from the exterior, frost nipped at the edges of the window, just itching to find somewhere warmer. The fireplace on your left, in the center of room, was ablaze and all the girls were in the kitchen. All except you.

You and Sam had broken up again. Something about how his life isn't safe for you right now, that you don't deserve all the shit he has going on in his life. That you'd be happier, live longer if he didn't talk to you anymore. It just sounded like bullshit. You were sure something big was going on right now in the hunting world, and he was trying to let you down so whatever he was dealing with, wouldn't come after you too. He always takes these precautions whenever he gets into trouble. Your relationship is so on-again-off-again, and all your friends hate him. You can't tell them why you've broken up with him again. You can't even tell them where he is, what he does for work.

Your friends all just assume he's a loser, running around screwing other women with his not-too-good brother. They know Dean. In fact, a few, know Dean very well. They all thought they knew Sam as well as they knew Dean, but really, they didn't know either. You hadn't slept with Dean, but you knew he was more loyal than they thought. And that Dean swears up and down that you're too good for Sammy, and if he breaks your heart, he's gonna break his hand or his leg. They don't know that about them, and they never will. It's why you never listen to them when they talk bad about the boys, they don't really know who they are.

You can hear all the happy festivities happening inside the kitchen, but all you can do is worry about Sam. It made your chest ache wondering where he was. What he was dealing with. If he was tired, sad, sleepy, hungry. The bride wasn't even worrying about her soon to be husband as much as you worried about your, well now, ex. You absentmindedly tug on the necklace around your neck. A silver chain with a pearl in the center. Sam had gifted it to you on your one year anniversary.

Typically, you'd definitely worry about him when he's away like this. But his latest text sounds so serious it's appalling. A harsh 'it's over' and then a short, half-assed explanation of why. Five of your texts unread. It had to be a joke. A sick joke. This isn't the Sam you remember, the Sam that wipes away your tears, makes you feel good, genuinely listens to your dreams and fears and goals. This Sam sounds faraway, dark, moody. Like he was when he was a teenager, but even that Sam listened to you. This one can't even open his messages to prove that he's okay.

"You okay shortcake?" the voice snaps you out of your daze, and you glance over at your best friend, the bride to be. Shortcake isn't exactly a play on your height, it was about your mutual bond over the Strawberry Shortcake characters, as well as the sweet treat. You smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes and you nod. "I'm alright." everyone is dressed in silk pajamas, those little feathers flurry at the ankles and wrists. Your best friend, Alice, has a white one. You, maid of honor, are wearing a dusty pink. And then Amy is wearing a light blue, Janet is wearing a baby yellow, and Yasmin is wearing a soft green color. They perfectly match who you are too. The four of them waltz into the room, all of them holding drinks in one hand, Alice holds two and hands you one. You take it graciously. The pillows in the living room are all on the floor, set up like a 60s teen sleepover segment from a movie. "I know that look, don't lie." Alice sits down on one of the pillows, and the other girls follow. Soon enough, you move to sit down too.

You don't really wanna talk about it, it's gonna ruin the whole mood. But then again, they aren't really your friends if they're gonna let you sit there like a kicked puppy and ignore your feelings. Once everyone is sitting comfortable around the room on assorted pillows, in front of a table full of treats, Alice gives you a pointed look. "Let's hear it shortcake." you sigh.

"Sam broke up with me again." you can't even get the courage to look up at them. Yasmin scoffs and shakes her head. She has nothing to worry about though because she's already married. She doesn't have the hunters life. Her husband works in an office all day, he doesn't have the devils voice in his head telling him to just give in already.

Amy nods silently, taking a long sip from her cup. She's slept with Dean, and she knows what it's like to be obsessed with a Winchester. Janet too, also had a night with Dean back in high school. She vaguely knows about the life, more than anyone else in the room, aside from you obviously, does. She knows they drive around America and save people from terrible, horrible endings, and that was enough for her. Janet just grabs pretzels from the table and munches on them. But Alice, she reaches over and places a hand on your thigh. "I'm sorry sweetie."

"I just felt like we were finally in a good place." you explain briefly. You can't tell them that Lucifer is literally running around America and killing people, that your (ex) boyfriend is Lucifer's perfect vessel. That the end is coming. It must be coming soon because Sam doesn't break up with you for no reason. He loves you, and you love him and yet it just isn't enough sometimes. Not enough to keep you out of harms way.

You glance up at the ceiling when the awful thought invades your brain, what if Sammy's finally saying yes to Lucifer? It makes tears well up in your eyes, and the girls huddle around you in a hug. You wipe the tears away quickly, and accept the hugs. "I don't mean to be a downer, I-I just.." you sniffled. "Don't ever apologize for feeling upset." Alice whispers, but it echoes around the room and it haunts you. "C'mon, why don't we do something fun tonight?"

"More fun than drinking?" Yasmin asks and Alice nods. "Alright, everyone, phones..." Alice searches around the room before she finds a basket full of random trinkets. "In here. First one to touch the phone pays for my caterers." everyone springs into action, dropping their phones off in the basket. "We all focus too much on men." Alice explains, dropping her phone into the basket. "Even though I'm getting married to one, I'm sick of them. The rest of the week, I've declared it, is free of men!" the girls giggle and you can actually smile a bit.

You guys do karaoke for an hour, playing around with the surround sound system, and the huge television hanging above the fireplace. About ten times throughout the night all you want is to grab your phone and check your messages. Make sure Sammy's alive because you genuinely believe he's decided to agree to Lucifer, and your heart weighs a hundred pounds in your chest the longer the night goes on. But every time you find yourself drifting off to thoughts of Sam, one of the girls grabs your wrist and tugs you close, swaying you, spinning you, and you laugh. You've never found a group of girls like this, so close since high school, and even though you all travel, all have lives of you own, you can always count on them for support. You can always come back together and care for each other, laugh and smile and cry without it being weird, without it feeling like you ever spent time away from each other.

And when you come home, you find out that your suspicions were true. Sam said yes, and now you and Dean are more alone than you ever have been.