mymreaderlibrary

[mymreaderlibrary]

Part of the Pack

Pairing: poly hybrid!141 x Male!reader

Part 1: Click here

-----

After that moment on deployment when you woke up cuddled up with your teammates, your relationship with the 141 has changed and you’re not quite sure what to make of it.

Before, Soap had always joined you at mealtimes and Gaz’d drop in every now and again, but now the entire team clusters around you each day for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Price has even joined Soap in loading up your tray with a frankly unreasonable amount of food at every meal and they both watch you expectantly as you try to make even a dent in the portion.

There’s also the gifts. Shiny things, mostly, left in your office or outside your door for you to find. You’ve come into possession of a number of rings and necklaces, and even a nice gold watch with an intricately inscribed face.

There’s other gifts too though, things that appear on your nightstand or set gently onto the pillow beside yours, travel mugs with coffee or tea or cocoa made exactly to your liking, granola bars, a high quality switchblade, even a tiny wood carving of a panther. Even with the light sleeping habits from years of service, you’d never been able to catch whoever was leaving things in your room for you.

To say the changes have thrown you off is an understatement, but it’s nothing compared to this moment. To this dingy bar with its too-dim lights and overplayed music with the 141 crowded into the booth around you, high on a successful mission and tipsy from the celebratory drinks, when Ghost tugs his mask up enough to expose his mouth and leans over to kiss you like it’s as second-nature as breathing.

You’re frozen, trapped in place by your surprise in the wake of his attention, and you can feel the low, satisfied pur that rumbles through him like thunder at the feeling of your lips on his. 

“No fair,” Soap whines as Ghost pulls away from you, clutching at you from your other side, “I had dibs on kissin’ ‘im first!”

And if that doesn’t have your reeling mind screeching to a halt. First?

You ignore Soap’s pouting for the moment as you examine your teammates with a new curiosity. Gaz’s eyes are dark where they flick between you and Ghost, hungry in a way you’d never seen him before. His wings tremble slightly behind him, like there’s electricity spiking through each individual feather. 

Price looks, well, not quite proud, but satisfied, like something he’s been waiting for has just clicked perfectly into place.

Soap takes hold of your jaw then, uses it to guide you back to face him and kisses you like he’s been dying to do it. His fingers slip back to twist into your hair and pull you closer, tongue pressing brief and teasing against your lip, and you have the distinct feeling he’d be on your lap right now if the booth wasn’t so tight.

“Wha-” you manage to gasp out when he pulls back to nose along your throat, tail thumping violently against the worn vinyl seat. “What’s happening?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?” There’s a fond chuckle from Price, and you catch the way his hand slips from Gaz’s shoulder down between his wings and the full body shudder it wrenches out of Gaz. “We’ve been courtin’ ya for goin’ on two months now.”

Wait, no - that couldn’t be - except it kind of had been, hadn’t it?

Price’s signals would’ve been the hardest to pick up on - his hand lingering just a few seconds too long after a pat on the shoulder, the way he’d corner you before an op to double check your gear, the weight of his eyes on you in the shooting range - what you’d thought had been judgement apparently admiration. The way he’d slip you the dessert from his MRE when the rest of the boys weren’t looking. 

And the more that you think about it, the more signs you can remember. The shiny gifts from Gaz, the way he’d damn near beam whenever he saw you wearing that watch - the way he’d been asking you to help him preen his wings, the way his pupils would blow wide when you’d say yes and the cute little huffs that’d come when you actually handled his feathers.

The little things Ghost had left you in your room (you’re not sure how you hadn’t realized it was Ghost before between the little panther carving and the stealth with which the gifts were delivered) and the way he’d let himself fall asleep against your shoulder on the flight home. Ghost doesn’t trust easy, and with good reason, but the way he’s been behaving around you…

And Soap - God, even if you hadn’t been able to see the signs from anyone else, you’re not how you hadn’t noticed his. That you hadn’t noticed the way those pointed wolf ears prick forward and his tail wags double time whenever he sees you, or how he’s so prone to draping himself against you with an arm over your shoulder or around your waist, especially after one of those long nights at the gym - the way he’d tuck his head into your neck after a workout, like he was trying to memorize the smell of you. The way he was always making sure you’d eaten or inviting himself into your room for a cuddle. You’d always assumed it was a wolf-hybrid thing if not just a Soap thing, but now that you’re thinking about it you’ve never seen him like that with anyone else except the rest of the 141.

“Oh,” you say, suddenly feeling rather foolish for not reading deeper into your teammates’ actions. Your eyes dart between the four of them again. “Really? All of you?”

“Think we’ll be too much to handle?” Gaz Kyle prompts, challenge burning bright in his clever golden eyes.

You huff a laugh and know he knows you too well, that he knows you can’t turn down a challenge, especially one with such a tempting reward. You down the rest of your drink and clamber out of the booth over Johnny. 

“I’ll get the tab and we’ll get outta here?” you call back over your shoulder as you head for the bar. 

You can’t fight back the grin that forms at the excited chorus of agreement behind you. Sure, you hadn’t seen it coming when they made room for you in their little family, but you’d be a fool to let something as incredible as them slip away from you.

[mymreaderlibrary]

Room in The Den

Pairing: Hybrid!141 x Male!Reader

A/N: Intended as an early-stages poly relationship, but could also be interpreted as platonic.

Part 2 -> Click here

-----

It’s a bullshit new law that does it. Some asshole lawmakers deciding that just because there’s some small fraction of animal DNA in them that they can’t do their jobs right without “an actual person” watching over them that gets you assigned to the 141.

Sure, joining a team that elite is an honor, but it’s something you’d have wanted by your own merits, not just because someone who’d never seen real combat in their lives thought your new colleagues needed someone fully human to reel them in. 

You’ve seen their numbers - they don’t need you and you’re sure as hell they don’t want you encroaching on the bond that their experiences have fostered between them. That’s why you come in expecting the animosity. 

You were right. Captain Price is cordial enough, he shakes your hand without crushing it and says he’s eager to work with you but his smile doesn’t meet his eyes and the terseness in his voice tells you he’s just saying it to be polite. He’s run this task force long enough to know how to do his job without you there. His Lieutenant doesn’t even grant you that. The sergeants seem wary and you don't blame them but you know that it’s better to be someone like you that knows their worth than one of the holier-than-thou bureaucrats they’d been considering assigning to this post, so you’ll just have to try to find your place in the team.

-----

Soap is the easiest to win over. He finds you in the gym one night long after everyone else had retired back to their bunks, ripping through reps at the bench press without a spotter. He’s thrown for a minute, used to being the only one up this late since the rest of the squad is mostly diurnal, but he’s content enough to admire the way your compression shirt is darkened with sweat and to watch your muscles shift with each movement. Can feel himself drooling a little at the spice of your scent, heady and masculine and tempting enough to make him want to bite.

 He wonders a little, whether you’d be able to keep up with him and he can’t help the steady pace his tail picks up behind him as he decides he’s going to find out.

You’ve got your eyes closed and earbuds in like you’re the only one for miles and yet you still seem to sense him as he drops his bag and moves to stand near you. 

“S’dangerous,” he says as you re-rack your weights and pull an earbud out, “To lift without someone to spot you.” 

You nod, it’s one of the biggest rules of gym safety for a reason, but you’d never been great with rules. “Never much liked askin’ for help,” you admit after a minute. “Didn’t wanna bother anyone.”

He hums, and you don’t feel judged, just understood, “Well, you’re stuck with the lot o’ us now, whether you like it or not,” he grins, wolfish and happy, and moves to stand at the head of the bench to spot you, “Bother away.” And just like that, you’ve got yourself a new workout buddy.

It’s like he’s your self appointed shadow after that, waiting outside your door every morning with a freshly made protein shake in each hand, one for each of you. He’ll get all whiny about it too if you say no, pointy wolf ears drooping and tail falling still behind him. He looks like he’s about to cry until you finally relent and take yours from him (he perks up right away every time, the little faker). Eventually you learn that it’s easier to just take it from him without the fight and let him ramble on about whatever he’d seen on tiktok the night before as he walks you to your office.

He joins you for meals too, complains about the amount of food on your plate and scoops bites off his own plate to supplement yours despite your protests. His Ma had always told him growin’ up that he had to eat plenty of protein if he wanted to be big and strong and protect his pack, so he’s just tryin’ to do the same for you and doesn’t understand why you feel the need to argue about sharing food.

You’re part of his pack now, and Soap’ll be damned before he neglects one of his packmates, just don’t be surprised if he starts bullying his way into your room at night too - he’s a cuddler.

-----

Gaz warms up to you next, though he always blames the blood loss if someone asks what won him over. He’d joined you and Soap for your evening workouts a few times, and grinned at each other when you passed in the halls, but it’s not until the morning after a brutal op that he really starts to see you as part of the team.

It’s early. Barely three-thirty in the morning when the heli touches down and maybe only four when the squad tumbles through the doors but you’re right there with the rest of them. Price is already headed down to the administrative wing for a debrief and Ghost has a snoring Soap over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes on his way to the barracks, and then there’s just the two of you.

You’ve got one of Gaz’s arms over your shoulder and an arm heavy around his waist, tucked snug under his bleeding wing, taking most of his weight as you help him limp through the halls. You hang a left instead of the right that would lead to the infirmary, instead guiding him into your office. You sweep whatever paperwork had been on your desk aside, and help him up to sit, legs hanging off one side of your desk and wings cascading over the other.

You’re quick to shrug off the outer layer of your tactical gear and cast it aside, pulling out a sizable med kit from under your desk and settling on your knees in front of him. You ask him if it’s okay, before you help ease his cargo pants down enough to get to the wound on his thigh and he finds himself taken aback since their usual medic would just muscle them off or cut them away to get at it. You wait until he nods to start tugging at the fabric, fingers careful and intent as you work the material free from the torn flesh. 

He watches as your gaze flickers over the wound and you reach for what you need without even looking. He’s been told his eyes are intense before, it’s normal for bird of prey hybrids, perhaps especially so for golden eagle hybrids like him, but he’s never quite understood the way people describe being pinned in place by his gaze until now. 

You work fast, sterilizing, stitching, and then bandaging his wound with a speed that would rival the military doctors in the infirmary, and the stitches seem more sturdy than he can remember his last ones being. 

Once you’re satisfied with his leg, you stand and move behind him to get a better look at his wing. He'd taken a bullet to it, right through the meat of the muscle, and he knew he’d be grounded a long while until it healed. You hesitated then, unsure if he’d be okay with you touching such a personal area as his wings. 

Gaz swallows hard, trying to think of the last time someone other than himself had handled his wings, and nudges it back into your hands. You’re remarkably gentle, he thinks, as your fingers card delicately through rich caramel feathers until you’re able to uncover the bullet hole. You use a pair of tweezers, to make sure that there are no lingering bits of shrapnel, and a tiny set of scissors to trim back any of the soft downy feathers that could catch in the wound as it heals. 

He’s started churring by the time you’re done, a sort of contented trill from the feeling of someone else preening his wings, despite the lingering pain from the injuries. His golden eyes snap back to focus as you nudge a water bottle and granola bar into his hands with a muttered apology that it was all you had on hand, and he’s still plenty happy because you’re trying to be part of his flock by preening him and providing for him. He churs the whole while as you guide him back to his room and help him into bed.

Gaz quickly becomes a regular participant of you and Soap’s late night gym sessions and joins you for mealtimes once in a while after that night.

-----

Truthfully, you still don’t know what convinced Ghost you were worth knowing, but he supposes that’s because you hadn’t known he was there. He’d been on his way to deliver a mission report from Price to one of the other admin when one of his rounded ears caught the sound of your raised voice. His curiosity drew him to the door, cracked just enough that he was able to see you stood across a table from a trio of generals, arms crossed and back straight. 

“I appreciate your congratulations,” you growled, and Ghost was taken aback by the ferocity in your voice. He’d never heard you speak like that before, not even in the field. “But I am not the one who should be hearing it.”

His ears prick forward, tugging against the thick fabric of his mask as he listened closer, intrigued. 

“With all due respect, Major, task force 141-” one of the pencil pushers started.

“No,” you interrupted, hands coming down hard on the desk between you and the other officers, “They are due the commendations. They are the ones who built this team from the ground up. Sure, there have been successful missions since my joining, but those are not only my achievements. If you want to offer a public congratulations on a successful operation, it will be to my entire team, not just the picture you think would be easiest to publish.”

With that, you turn from the board of your superior officers and head for the door, ignoring their protests, and Ghost has to scramble back in order to avoid being hit with the door. 

“Sorry, Lieutenant,” you say as you see him, moving out of his way. “Didn’t see you there,” and for once that doesn’t sound like some slight against his panther genetics, just a plain statement - he’d been behind the door and you hadn’t meant to nearly clip him with it. You clap him on the shoulder and head off down the hall back toward your office and Ghost is tempted to drop the file where he stands to follow you, one simple interaction you hadn’t meant for him to see enough to convince him there was far more to you than he’d thought. 

You weren’t just some babysitter added to their little family to observe them like they were no more than wild animals - you actually saw their worth and were willing to fight for it?

An amused little huff escapes him and Ghost forces his attention back to the task at hand, spotted tail lashing smoothly behind him as he turns and continues on his way, sharp claws digging puncture wounds into the folder he’d been sent to deliver and your words ringing in his mind.  

----

Price was the last to come around to you being a part of their little family, though he’d never been outright hostile the way Ghost had at first. He’d done his best to be professional with you, complying with the needed paperwork and taking your insights on each operation under consideration, though he never deliberately sought you out. 

That didn’t mean he could avoid you when the team had a mission though, especially not now with the five of you piled into a much-too-small cabin in the mountains near where intel suggested one of Makarov’s bases were. Laswell had just radioed in to let Price know there was a snowstorm incoming so evac might be delayed and to expect to hunker down at least another two nights.

With only two bedrooms and a total of three small beds between them, you’d volunteered to take up roost on the lumpy couch in the living room so he’s not surprised to see you there, so much as he is by your company. You’re sprawled out in about the middle of the couch with Gaz tucked comfortably against your side, your arm around his shoulder and one of his wings curling around the both of you. As Gaz’s wing shifts, Price notices Soap curled against your legs, snoring away, but he freezes as he sees Ghost.

Everyone on the team has gone through hell, but Price knows Ghost has dealt with more than his share. Nightmares aren’t uncommon for any of them, but for Ghost a decent night’s sleep was an incredible rarity. That’s why he’s so startled to see Ghost stretched comfortably along the rest of the couch with his head on your lap and his face nuzzled into your stomach, skull mask gone in favor of his more casual balaclava, and his breathing deep and even.

A pleased little huff escapes Price, warmth spreading in his chest at the sight of his three favorite people curled up together happy and comfortable. And if you were part of that? Well, there was plenty of room for one more in that old bear’s heart.

[mymreaderlibrary]

I am absolutely IN LOVE with the Gambit x sea monster mutant you did. Sea monster stories are my favorite thing EVER and it got me thinking about random little tidbits of Remy and leviathan’s life that I wanted to share

The first time Remy sees the sea serpent form he’s definitely a little scared and maybe a bit horny because hot DAMN. I can see him having a huge fixation on leviathan’s teeth, whether it’s the huge fucking chompers that could snap his spine in half or the human sized teeth that are a bit sharper than they should be

Remy placing a cute kiss on leviathan’s cheek while he’s in serpent form. He’s much smaller than him and leviathan can barely feel it, but he loves the gesture

Sex is definitely something that takes a bit to get used to. Leviathan’s skin is tougher than most and the first few times they do it, Remy finds himself having to do something skin aftercare due to the scaly version of beard burn. While I LOVE the idea of bottom Remy, I REALLY love the idea of him being in control. Leviathan is powerful and often finds that people expect him to take on a more dominant role in every day life so he LOVES being able to trust Remy to take care of him. It also gives Remy a HUGE ego boost, knowing that leviathan has that trust in him

Leviathan telling Remy all about the different sea life he encounters

Someone asks Remy about his jewelry and he proudly says “my boyfriend made it”

Remy Lebeau x Mutant male reader

Headcanons

Part two to a thing I wrote a while ago, which you can find here.

Finaly went on Christmas break, so I can hopefully sleep off this sickness I’ve been dealing with all week. How’s everyone else doing?

I imagine the first time you discovered that you could turn into a serpent was an accident. It was sometime during your time apart, where Remy was an X-man, and you were… doing whatever you were doing.

Maybe it was even during a fight with good ol Namor, who was pissed about some other being, entering his territory, since you carry such a powerful aura. The fighting came to a stop when you turned into a massive serpent.

It probably didn’t help your case that your serpent form had some waterproof feathers and was pretty damn colorful underwater. Or the fact that you could make rain, rainbows, extreme storms, so on and so forth.

After that Namor seemed to just accept you as his “brother”, in his own way… he was and is an arrogant ass, but he’s cool, if hed just stop his people from trying to worship you. At least Namor turned out to be a great help when it came to mastering your new serpent form.

After all of this, and you finally feel comfortable with it, you finally show it to Remy. At some point when he’s taking a break from the team or he’s just got some time off, that he spends near the sea since it’s close to you.

At this point you two arent dating, so Remy is very thankful for his coat, since it helps him cover the very sudden heavy pressure between his thighs when he watches you transform.

It’s not his fault is almost erotic, to him at least. Just the way your body lengthens, your muscles stretch and twist, how your scales grow and spread, and feathers burst out. The huge teeth bigger than his own body also has a lot of blood rushing south, something he doesn’t feel interested in exploring why.

He blames it on it being you.

It’s a very comical sight to see you two together around Krakoa most days, since you are very comfortable in the serpent form. So, it’s just you bobbing around outside the island, with Remy riding on top of your head.

Anyone with eyesight good enough can see Remy regularly leaning down to kiss the top of your scaley head, or how he wraps himself in the giant feathers.

But people also know not to look too closely, since Remy likes to… sunbathe up there. Or he says it’s sunbathing. And most days it is, but other days… well, its likely that it isn’t sunscreen splattered across his chest, and his twitching body and flushed appearance doesn’t help.

You almost always dump him into the ocean before putting him back on land, since he likes chilling up there for very long, and will give himself heatstroke doing so. This is where your feathers help, since they act as a parasol or cover at times.

It’s not as if you can feel much of what he does up there, since he’s sitting on top of your head and outside your field of vision. But just knowing he’s there, and sometimes smelling his more intimate actions makes your blood rush.

Remy also always demands kisses before going on missions, or you leaving for longer periods of time. This is both in your serpent form and your more human form, you better kiss him enough to make up for all the kisses he’s gonna miss when you’re apart.

I don’t think Remy does a whole lot of topping in the relationship, since he gets real hot and bothered about how big you are and how much you fill him. But he does do a lot of power bottoming.

He will never hear you complain though, since it allows you to lay back and watch as that half feral haze falls over Remy’s face, and his movements get rough and needy.

Even better if you purr or growl, flashing your teeth at him so it “seems” like you’re not just laying back and being lazy. You both know logically you could very easily throw him off and overpower him, but it makes Remy feel really good to be on top, and you feel good too when he does it, so why not.

Remy is very saddened that he can’t leave hickeys on you though, thanks to your scales, healing factor and just you being sturdy in general. You guys can’t even go with something more extreme like using a knife or leaving scars, since it heals up.

The closest you guys have ever gotten to a lasting hickey on you was after Remy spent hours sucking and biting at the same spot on the front of your neck, on a spot of skin without scales, and that faded after an hour or so.

Remy ends up having to cope, which results in him drawing on you instead with markers. He even finds ones he can use on your scales, and ones in colors that almost look like bruises. It’s not the same but its good enough.

I get the feeling the x-men have met Namor at some point, or will in the future. They don’t get why he’s extra sassy towards Remy, until you casually mention knowing him and how you guys fight on the regular as a “bonding activity”.

Apparently Namor is just mad that you’re dating someone from the surface since they all suck in his eyes, but you couldn’t care less. You love your Cajun.

You end up having to draw a lot of the sea creatures you see, since cameras can’t stand the pressure or see in the same way as your eyes, so Remy has a lot of those drawings saved in a folder. Hes debated on getting one or two tattooed.

He doesn’t know too much about the ocean, even after you guys have been together for a while, since very little is known about the ocean, but hes always curious and ready to listen.

There being a whole ocean people did freak him out for a bit, because obviously there were. There were literally people from space, so why not in the ocean? Them wanting to worship you at least got a good laugh and some flirty jokes out of him.

Speaking of Namors people. They would treat Remy better than other surface people, especially if he’s wearing jewelry made from your scales and feathers. They still don’t really like him, but they respect you so…

Remy is also definingly the kind to always wear the stuff you make him, he’s got multiple sets and many different pieces of jewelry. The feathers are most colorful and fit any outfit, but there are also normal stud earrings made from an old scale.

Remy likes wearing stuff you make him. But you also like seeing him wear it, since it puts your mark on him even if you hadn’t thought about that at the time.

[mymreaderlibrary]

Listen. Listen. Hear me out.

I beg you, almighty gator—Gambit(Remy LeBeau) x M/FTM reader(ur choice i like both :)) where reader is a mutant that has some kind of power that has to do with sea monsters, and loves tarot cards so Remy does card tricks for him while reader is in a pool.

When I was a kid I called Gambit “Magic Man” and I had to hold myself back from screaming that in the theater when I was watching D&W a few days ago and revived my non-understandable fanboying of him. (Sorry for the rant)

You can change the fic anyway you want, I’ve got no problem as long as Remy is as silly as he normally is(can evolve into smut or whatever cause I’m freaky like that 😏)

Gracias Gator!!

Remy Lebeau x mutant male reader

Headcanons

I love Remy SO much its insane. I can’t write accents, so it’s there in spirit. Haven’t read the comics, so im basing this off of is wiki. no smut but i had fun writing this.

i loved seeing Remy in the movie, i just wish theyd given him his eyes, you know?

How you two met can be a mixed bag. Maybe you met in the x-men, maybe you met in the thieves guild before every crossing paths with the x-men as a whole, or maybe somewhere completely third. I enjoy the idea of the thieves guild though, so ill go with that.

You both had different reasons for joining or doing what you do, but being two mutants amongst a lot of other non-mutants meant you felt some kind of kinship with each other, even if you didn’t really get along in the beginning.

Especially with you two being visibly mutants. With Remy’s eyes and you having scales on different areas of your body, gills on your sides, what others would refer to as “monster eyes”, so on and so forth.

This resulted in you two preferring to work together when you got the chance, you trained together, ate together, slept together (not like that), so on and so forth. It also meant you two got a very deep understanding of each other over time.

It also meant that Remy got to see just how stupidly powerful you were. In the beginning you just thought your powers involved controlling water and being able to breath underwater. Who’d have thought you could do crazy stuff like controlling typhoons, rain, lightning, so on and so forth, like some kind of biblical being.

This was how you gained the name leviathan. You didn’t really like the name in the beginning, since you hadn’t really picked it yourself and it felt almost insulting with your appearance. But Remy was so supportive you ended up coming to like it, even though it took a long time.

In the end you two split apart as you leave the guild, going your separate ways but still keeping in contact in small but safe ways. With a power like yours it was hard to stay under the radar, and many wanted you on their side, even if it meant by force.

Time passes, Remy joins the x-men, you travel on your own and discover yourself and the world. Remy gets kicked out of the x-men when they learn of his past, you two meet up again and travel together for a while.

Its during this gap in Remy’s place with the x-men that your relationship became something more. He tells you about Rogue, and how he at first thought he loved her, only to realize what he felt for her wasn’t near as strong as what he felt for you.

And of course, during this confession, Remy tries to lay on the charm and act like it isn’t a big deal, but you can easily see through him and notice how anxious he is about it. in the end you just have to grab him and kiss him to shut him up, which yes, does shut him up, but also leads to you guys falling back into the water you’d been sitting by when he lunges at you to kiss you again.

Hes a charming guy yes, Remy has such a way with his words, how he carries himself or how he touches you. But underneath all that he also cares so deeply, to the point of being willing to die for you or those he cares about, which makes you lose scales from stress at times.

So, if you place protection spells on him that you got from the deepest part of the sea by the people who have started to worship you like a god, then only you have to know. That Namor guy is pretty swell, when he isn’t being a bit arrogant. He even taught you how to use a spear, so you guys are kinda brothers in spirit now.

At some point Remy does return to the x-men, somewhere you don’t feel ready to join him yet. So, a lot of kisses are shared, and a few tears a shed. And yes, of course you give him jewelry made from your scales. And a dagger made out of your larger teeth when you transform into a more serpentine form, because yes, you can also do that.

Remy doesn’t feel much need to tell the x-men about his relationship. Sure, he keeps flirting but that’s just because that’s how he is. But it never goes further than that. Some of the members that can read minds know about it though, since he thinks about you regularly.

In the end the relationship is exposed when the x-men find themselves in quite the pickle near the ocean. And Remy, knowing he can get them the upper hand, is able to snap one of the sigils you placed on him.

Rip to whoever they were fighting, since the sea lashes out and swallows them whole, followers by a giant feral looking sea serpent, you, rise from the water. Yes, you teleported there. What else were you supposed to do? You thought your boy was in danger!

Cue the x-men just being stunned or confused when Remy calls out the cheesiest pet names, almost kicking his feet in happiness at seeing you. It makes a bit more sense when you transform into a more human form, it still takes some explaining though.

In the end you don’t end up fully joining the x-men. You doing that would place them under a lot more danger than usual, since you had your own enemies and alliances, and you’re pretty sure Namor would get butthurt if you did. But you become something of an ally. Which means you hang out on Krakoa on the regular.

It becomes a very regular sight to see a giant serpent lazily swimming around the island, or resting half on the beach as Remy sits and shows you his different tarot readings. Of course, you also spend time together with you in a more human form, but seeing such a big sea monster also makes any baddies keep a distance.

There are also of course pools set up on the island, not just for you, but they’re accessible for you as well. Remy is regularly seen in the pool with you, or just sitting with his feet in as you two talk or whatever else you guys do.

You end up becoming something of a swim instructor to the youngest mutants, or just those that can’t swim in general. This is something Remy finds extremely entertaining and he’s always teasing you about it. luckily its easy to shut him up with a kiss, or by knocking him into the pool. Or both. He doesn’t mind.

[mymreaderlibrary]

Anyone write for lady loki (not sylvie)?

[mymreaderlibrary]

sleeping with simon riley includes...

a bunch of coughing and groaning in the middle of the night (yeah... he needs to stop smoking)

random muttering and mumbling from him/you

nightmares. he will literally jump out of the bed which causes you to be startled sometimes (he offered to sleep on the couch due to his nightmares....)

his hands roaming around your body as if he wants to memorize every part of you (he does)

cuddles of course !!! it doesnt matter if hes the big or small spoon he just needs to be with you.

either of you falling off of the bed, at least once in a while

the blankets being left aside because simon says its gonna be 'too hot' (no, he just wants to be your personal heater lmao)

laying on top of each other. yeah, you might end up sleeping with your head resting against his chest.

HAIR STROKING. will stroke your hair until you fall asleep soundly

sigh... drooling. he drools a bit sorry to break it to you guys

a lot of admiring. he'll admire you as you sleep, its the only view that helps him doze off

FOREHEAD KISSES. either you or him. if he stirs awake he'll just give you a small forehead kiss before holding you closer to him (if thats even possible) and dozing off once more

nuzzling. he loves to nuzzle into the crook of your neck :(

tangled legs. his legs are gonna be intertwined with yours oooor one of his leg is going to be on top of yours.

kruegerspillow © 2024 — reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[mymreaderlibrary]

I can just imagine Ravine healing himself like he’s in the far cry 2 and everybody just looking at him like “wtf???”

Like broken arm? Nah let me just readjust some bones and we’re good to go!

Sorry for the long wait but it's finally here! 😖 Okay I can see this happening 💀. Price is getting gray hairs because he never knows if Ravine is walking around with an injured bones or not. It's a charade for 141 to find out after the first time they saw him do it 😂. Thank you so much for this idea 🙂 Also to all precious Readers, anyone willing to help me understand the mw2 characters more? Like telling me what your opinion on what their dislikes and likes could be and maybe headcanons you guys have for them? I’m interested to learn/know :DD PS.: I apologize for any mistakes and wrong words I use, It’s been too long since I researched about MW2 and Military stuff 😅

Price has known Ravine for a few years now but the soldier still surprises him in ways that he would never imagine. When he believes he finally grasped the depth of the weapo- Ravine’s abilities, the man swoops in with something unpredictable that has the captain stare at him like he just told him Laswell is firing Price.

Well not after today that is. Now he welcomes situations that could only happen in dreams with open arms so he can spare himself some stress.

The mission was easier than some things they were ordered to do.

The objective was to seize the contents inside the briefcase, it didn’t matter if the briefcase was lost as long as they got their hands on what was inside it. 

Ghost, Ravine, Gaz and Soap approached the enemy base on the mountains on foot as they ambushed them. However the opponent was one step ahead, hiding inside a hidden cave and fled with a jeep down the mountains, making a quick escape as the soldiers shot down the rest of the man.

Soap cursed, hoping to pop a tire with his gun but it was for naught as the bullets were caught by the many trees the vehicle passed through. Gaz let Price know that the objective is making pace down the mountain.

The captain’s voice echoed through one of their intercom radios.

“Ravine, time to fetch.”

They barely tilted their heads towards the mentioned male when they find Ravine darting past them at high speed. Their confusion flip into understanding as they have never seen him run before.

“The rest of you, make your way down and keep a lookout for strays hanging around.”

A few minutes later, they locate the jeep slammed sideways into a tree trunk making it almost fold in two. They quietly roam the area and quickly spot Ravine emerging from the back of the ruined car with a hand holding onto the case.

And that’s where they currently find themselves in when it happened.

“Ooohhh that looks bad, are you okay?” Gaz takes the briefcase from his hands, eyes worriedly staring at Ravine’s slightly bent arm with the bone poking out it.

“Aye.”

Without warning Ravine grabs his broken arm, pushing the bone back inside his flesh. A collective groan of pain and disgust echoed through the mountain from his action. 

Soap lifts a hand and averts his gaze from the scene as Gaz holds the briefcase in front of his face. Ghost scrunches his face from underneath the mask as Price’s voice echoes through, questioning the sudden silence.

The were impressed, sure… but whAT THE FUCK?!?!!?

While they are trying to explain to Ravine that, for a matter of fact, it was NOT okay to push your own bone back into your arm and it shouldn’t have been his first response to the open wound. It was DEFINITELY NOT NORMAL either to use that said broken arm the minute he ‘fixed’ it.

I mean okay, they did find that kind of cool but they were seriously getting worried about him. His blood was running down his forearm, staining his clothes red and he’s standing there like it was a daily occurrence.

Ghost marches towards Ravine and pokes a harsh finger to his helmet with ‘Don’t try this shit again’ glare, making the tall man recoil his head from the push.

“Sit down you muppet and refrain from moving that arm around.”

On the other side inside Price’s office, the captain exhales loudly; it could be heard outside the room. “Of course he did that…” He’s aging so quickly that he’s hoping he won't wake up the next day with a full set of white hair.

He waits by the entrance, seeing the truck in the distance growing bigger each second. He pushes himself from leaving on the wall and sees Gaz, Soap and Ghost instinctively grab onto Ravine who seems to plan a visit to the doctor.

While Ghost’s pushing from the front, one hand locked with Ravin’s while the other pushed against his chest, Gaz and Soap are pulling and tugging the man towards the medical facility.

Price sighs and the soldier’s stop in their tracks when they find him standing beside them watching them try to wrestle Ravine into a checkup. The captain crosses his arms over his chest, his head tilted slightly and a silent conversation is shared between him and the giant of a man.

Ghost can feel Ravine’s hand flinch and shake as he unconsciously tightens his grip on the shorter male’s hand. The lieutenant turns his head back, observing his body becoming tense making him look bulkier than he was.

The trio is shushed away as Price and Ravine go on their merry way.

“Man, he must really hate doctors.”

Ghost’s eyes linger on Ravine’s back, feeling something amiss. He doesn’t push or ask for an answer but questions are filling his head especially due to the sudden heat he could feel from his hand that was locked with his.

They were hiding something huge that was related to the abnormality that was Ravine but there were too many potential answers to piece together, like a puzzle without edges and weirdly shaped pieces.

He was sure Gaz and Soap were thinking the same thing but they didn’t dare risk breaking whatever frail bond they had with Ravine.

Who was Ravine before he became Ravine?

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

If anyone wants to be tagged let me know :D

@livinglifebesticanlol

(Hope it worked, never tagged anyone before 💦) (Also sorry if my writing got bad, I haven't written for so long 😳)

[mymreaderlibrary]

nomad!reader being found near a pond with a fully packed wagon and weirdly no horse attached to it

reader being a buddy of blind man cassidy but instead of fortune telling reader is basically the cloaked merchant from RE4

reader basically having a bag of holding and them giving arthur items (random to helpful) between every encounter

arthur meeting reader in the wild multiple times and reader using the items to express their fancy for arthur

reader giving arthur healing/food items because they notice that arthur is losing weight + reader giving arthur gold and items of worth b/c they just know that he's has a string of unlucky gigs and is hard on cash + reader gifting arthur ammunition when they notice that his bandolier is near empty

[mymreaderlibrary]

Summary: You're the eldest Winchester son and you quit the hunting game after a job gone wrong left you disabled. Years have passed since you last saw your family and you've made a life for yourself in Louisiana. However one phone call brings you back to a life you’ve tried so hard to avoid.

-

Notes/ tags: Male reader, Winchester reader, platonic/ familial relationships, reader is older than Dean by 6 years, season 1 adjacent, unspecified looks and race aside from brown eyes, descriptive gore & violence tw, child/teen in distress, ableism tw (outside and internalized), John’s A+ parenting, John is trying but not well, implied suicidal y/n

Super rough self indulgent fic, you can prolly tell there’s a character pre-made but keeping with this blog I made it a y/n story.

Y/N = purple

Sam = green

Dean = blue

John = red

(5136 words)

-

"That'll be $43.89, please"

Y/n let his foot tap on the floor rhythmically as his customer fumbled around for her wallet. Today, like most, bore no rush nor excitement. The sky murky, air wet, and the shoppers lined up in droves.

Y/n leaned forward in his chair, supported by his iron cane as he passed over the woman's bags. The cold weather wasn't good for his bad leg, but luckily his manager had let him sit on the job. Not like a cashier would need to be doing much else, but of course some people took issue.

A couple of middle aged customers had some snide comments about him, an older gent unabashedly calling y/n lazy, and some teens took him as an easy target to steal from. Seems they forgot other people work at the store too as they got tackled and reprimanded. Y/n tightened his grip on the cane, sighing with annoyance as they got kicked out.

He had a good 6 hours left to his shift, but he hoped for a way out, anything would be good. Something about today, despite it's mundanity, felt off and y/n always knew better than to ignore that gut feeling. A caution drilled into him from a young age that he could never seem to shake.

Bottles jangled as a set of youths, just a little too young to be drinking alcohol, slid in. The girl's eyes darted around the room nervously while the boy passed his "id" across the counter. Cheaply laminated, awkwardly centered, and with info not close enough to their actual appearances, unless this was the most youthful 57 year old y/n had ever seen. The elder man’s gaze slowly drew up to the pair.

"Your name is... Seymour Bhutts?"

Y/n made sure to emphasize the last name as much as possible, popping the b. A bright flush covered the girl's cheeks as she turned away while her companion desperately tried to save face.

"Uh-actually it's pronounced Byatts..."

A long drawn out silence filled the tiny space as y/n gnawed away at his nicotine gum. The girl couldn't take it anymore, embarrassment washing over her face.

"Listen sir we're really-"

"Just go put them bottles away and I ain't gon snitch, yeh?"

It wasn't worth getting the two in trouble. From the way their eyes widened with fear y/n had a feeling it was their first time doing this whole fake id thing.

"Y-yes sir"

They snatched up the bottles and turned back towards to store with a slight tremble.

"And-"

The pair froze up.

"Next time try sumthin with a reasonable age, most people don check names so much as they numbers"

Surprise colored their faces before they nodded shyly and bolted off.

Kids... made y/n think of his little brothers. Their first time offering up fake ids went just about the same. Sam was such an anxious child meanwhile Dean did his best to take the lead, but he'd typically trip over his words or say something outlandish in an attempt to seem honest. Lying came easy to the older of the two though perhaps a bit too easily. He could really get himself caught up in a web of his own making.

In spite of the warmth y/n felt at the memory of their squishy faces, his chest stung. It'd been around 15 years since y/n had last seen them. They'd be full adults by now. Sam had called a few times when he first started college, but Dean... they never quite had that connection. He hasn't heard that kid’s voice since the boy was 11.

Y/n could only hope this hunting shit had ended... that dad had finally finished his fruitless mission, preferably without costing his brothers anything. He knows it's wishful thinking, but it'd be nice to know they're okay. Maybe even know John is okay too...

His leg ached at the memory. No, he didn't need to pity his dad. He had a choice, y/n didn't, at least not until it was too late. His teeth clenched.

"Aye, y/n!"

Y/n startles, looking behind him to see his coworker Jan.

"Boss wants to see you so we're swapping out"

Annoyance welled in y/n's stomach. His presence went largely ignored by the higher ups… unless maybe someone saw him let those teens off the hook. Getting yelled at by anyone other than customers was not on his list for today.

The trek over took a bit of time as y/n found himself needing to keep a slower pace than usual. Each shift or step sent flares of sharp and spontaneous pains throughout his leg. It felt like a shiv was being quickly stabbed into him, twisted, then ripped out again. It surprised him every time he looked down and saw no sign of blood. Regardless he made it in time to see his boss ending a phone call. She looked agitated, swiping her gaze to y/n with a frown.

"You called fur me?"

"Did so, Chester, you don know why?"

Y/n shook his head, he knew not to confess unless cornered. Besides he didn't let those kids actually buy anything so he still did his job. The woman sighed, seeming disbelieving.

"Well I don got a call from Marshals Motors, ya know em?"

Unless this was misdirection, then maybe it wasn't about those kids after all…

"I do, mam, don worked for em fur a year before I quit an came ere"

"Well I just got a call from em saying something about how THEY got a call from county jail askin for you. More specifically sum guy is claiming he knows you and wants to talk, whatevur that means"

Y/n pinched his nose, trying to come up with any reason someone would ask for him, especially with this much effort. His mind drew nothing but blanks. He left Marshal’s after his leg started getting worse and he could no longer crouch under the cars. That job was short lived and whoever called clearly didn’t know about y/n’s new employment. That left such a small margin of people he almost wasn’t sure they existed.

"Did they say who is looking fur me cause I don have any boys in jail right now"

Her next words knocked the wind clean out of y/n's chest.

"Some sort a Winchester, said his name was Sam. Samantha? Somethin like that, mean anything to ya?"

By god it meant everything.

-

Driving to jail was not something y/n had done in a long while. A lot easier not getting arrested when you weren't breaking and entering all the time. Which of course led to his next thought process.

What the fuck was Sam doing in Louisiana?

Last time they spoke may have been about 2 years or so ago but as far as y/n knew Sam was in California studying law. It certainly wasn't spring break right round now and he can't imagine why any school like Stanford would be making trips down here. Unless of course...

This better not be for a hunt. Y/n gritted his teeth. If dad was there, if John had dragged Sam out of college to go hunting again y/n would lose it. His little brother had sounded so excited about his college life. He had a girl, he had a major, he had friends... he was "normal", as normal as people like them could be but still. Something like that was damn near impossible to get.

But any hope he had that this was just a misunderstanding was squashed when y/n saw that familiar black impala out front.

There was no point in hiding his anger as y/n stomped inside, his cane clanking loudly on the tile. It took a good thirty minutes to process the release, especially considering the cops were pretty adamant on talking down to y/n about controlling his brothers. Brothers. That meant Dean was there too. Dread dug into his stomach.

Y/n was guided to the interrogation room where the boys were waiting. Despite how long it'd been, y/n could still recognize the features of their faces with ease. So unmistakably them, so distinctly family.

Sam was the first to stand, a little brother no longer... least not in height.

"Y/n... you came"

A smile tugged at the younger’s lips and he moved to embrace his older brother. Sam lent into y/n's good side, leaving room for his cane. The warmth was welcome on such a cold day, even more so considering who it was from. Feeling the puff of his brother's breath against his shoulder soothed y/n's whole body. He wanted to yell, tell them all about how pissed he is to be down here bailing them out but… He wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulders and gave him a hearty pat. He couldn’t stay mad at these kids.

Dean sat still.

"This is who you called?"

God his voice was so much deeper now. Even if he still had that boyish haircut, he was undeniably grown. Dad's leather jacket swamped his shoulders despite his obvious muscle.

"And you best be grateful too, don called me mid shift"

Dean grumbled in annoyance, looking away from his brothers. Sam at least had the decency to look ashamed.

"Sorry I just... didn't know who else to call. I don't know many people in Louisiana"

Sam chuckled a bit nervously, scratching at the back of his head.

"Well yer lucky, I don work at motors no more, but a friend of mine do. Got tha call sent to my new boss. Now come, I hate these damn places"

"Yeah, yeah of course"

Sam seemed eager to leave too, but Dean simply sat like a stone, glaring up occasionally. A stifling bitterness filled the space before another sharp spike bolted through y/n's leg. He didn't have time for this, least not right now.

"Dean”

Y/n managed his best authoritative voice, one he used to pull back when they were little. Dean stiffened slightly.

"You can have yer tantrum when we're not under pig watch, now move it"

Y/n didn't even need to look to know Dean was grinding his teeth. But finally he stood, pushing past his brothers without a second glance.

"He's just-"

"It's fine, Sam, we talk later"

"Right..."

Sam shrunk ever so slightly before following after Dean.

-

Dean took the impala and guided y/n to the motel he and Sam were staying. The place was alright for a budget spot, but there was a faint smell of mildew near the windows. Y/n half expected the door to be closed on his face but Sam waited and ushered him in.

If the car didn't spell it out, dad's book on the counter surrounded by an array of notes sure did.

"Yer on a hunt"

"No shit"

Dean opened the mini fridge, pulling out a beer for himself before plopping down onto the loveseat. Sam looked a bit sheepish as he went over to his notes, flipping through them with urgency.

"There's a spirit in town and it seems to be targeting older men. We're not fully sure what the pattern is but-"

"Sam, what the fuck are you doin here?"

Any lightheartedness left the room. Sam gaped slightly, his eyes darting around to come up with an answer, however Dean didn't give him the chance.

"He's doing what we're supposed to be doing, hunting"

"No, he's-

Y/n raised his hand to jab a finger at the youngest.

"Supposed to be in college far away from this shit"

"Oh you'd like that wouldn't you, upset he didn't run away like you?"

"Run away? He escaped! Got out of John's shit show!"

"Don't you dare talk about dad-"

"Shut up, both of you!”

Y/n and Dean turned to Sam who's face had gone red with frustration.

"I didn't call just so you two could debate my life!"

Dean took a swig of his beer as y/n sat on the closest bed, refusing eye contact. The room fell into a silence as Sam rubbed his temples. He sighed before turning to y/n, an exhaustion filling his eyes.

"Jess is dead"

Y/n's head flipped up quickly to the youngest.

"Shit Sammy... I'm sorry-"

"And whatever killed her also killed mom"

"..."

Dean rolled his eyes at y/n's discomfort, watching him lean heavily into his cane.

"So where's John?"

"Hunting the son of a bitch, but he sent us here to deal with some unfinished business"

"So he just out there, alone?"

"I don't like it either but-"

"Oh no I don care about that, I just don see why yer still here"

"Because it's our job! and unlike you we aren't just gonna let people die just because it got 'too much'"

Y/n fixed Dean with another glare, this one a threat. His leg practically screamed in response, feeling as if claws were digging into the weakened muscle. Y/n gripped his cane tightly, feeling the rosary beads wrapped around it give slightly. White hot shame burned inside his chest, this damn leg.

The tense silence was becoming unbearable and y/n wanted nothing more than to leave this day behind, forget any of it even happened. At this point he still had a couple hours on his shift but there was no way he could go back to work after this. He needed home... and a bottle.

Shakily y/n rose from the bed and hobbled his way to the door.

"Leaving us behind again?"

Dean never could help himself from having the last word. Unfortunately for him y/n was in no mood.

"No, I'm going home. My leg is fucking killing me"

Soon y/n was out the door, making his way back to his car. A hand tugged at his arm forcing him to turn. Of course Sam was the one to reach out.

"Listen uh- I'm glad I got to see you"

Y/n's heart felt heavy, like it was actively dropping down through his body and into the earth. Sam must be dealing with so much and yet here y/n and Dean are making everything their problem.

"I- yeah you too”

Sam hesitated for a moment, as if waiting for y/n to add something, anything more. However he could provide nothing, simply watching his brother's dejected form as he drove away.

This isn't how he wanted to see them again, but of course life was never that easy.

-

It took much longer than y/n hoped to get back home. His boss called him in for another couple hours, not letting him off the hook just cause of some family crap. Y/n wanted to argue and tell her to fuck off but this job was his only income at the moment. Losing that would damn near make him homeless. By the time he got back he was exhausted and sore, dragging himself through the door into his cluttered apartment.

Y/n settled down with a scotch, propping his bad leg up on some pillows as he flipped through the cable channels. A part of him wanted to drive back, apologize to that motel and tell his brothers not to go. Another part of him sang guilt, one so deep he didn't deserve their forgiveness.

15 years and what had he ever done for them? Left them behind with their manic father... turned his back without a second thought. He could've helped them, gone back and taken them with. Maybe then Sam would still be in school and Dean... Dean could at least have something to smile about. A house, a home. Maybe even a dog, y/n remembered the way Dean envied the boy's who had pets. He wanted to be like one of those kids in the movies who had a loyal companion by their side to go on adventures with. He wanted to be a hero.

Y/n's body and mind ached. His hand came to scratch at his dry arms until they were raw. His nails cut the skin, causing black blood to ooze to the surface. A reminder of the reason he left, the reason he ran away.

-

"Shhhhhh struggling will only make the binds tighter"

A sob wracked his chest, forcing him to gasp and heave.

Every part of y/n's body screamed, his skin feeling like molten tar being pulled apart piece by piece. Whatever had been injected into his veins was burning him from the inside out, leaving him to tremble helplessly.

Y/n had tried pleading, he had begged for hours but no mercy ever came. His captor just pulled out more tools and dug deeper. A scalpel dug shapes into his torso, undoubtedly sigils but y/n could make no sense of them, the pain too blinding.

He kept telling himself that dad would come, dad would save him. They had only parted for a moment in order to widen their search. He couldn't be far away and yet no one ever came through that door.

Y/n's vision flashed, black spots and blinding white lights caused his head to lull. Splotches of color melded together until they began forming faces, horrid disfigured scowls staring down at him. All young, just about his age. Victims trapped in permanent agony unable to break free.

Y/n screamed as the knife dug deeper into his calf, peeling away the flesh until pearly white bone shone through. His eyes caught sight of the black pool around his body. What was once blood now came to be a bizarre ooze infecting his veins.

Dad will save me, dad will save me.

"Now now, we have much to do"

-

Y/n gasped for air as he centered himself back into the moment. He wasn't there, he wasn't there, he wasn't there. Y/n's heart beat like a rabbit's, soon turning into another ache in his body. His vision was blurry with tears as he tried to ground himself.

The black blood on his arm dripped ever so slowly, cold to the touch. Y/n grasped at a box of tissues he had on the table and haphazardly covered the wound. His fingers trembled as he tried to steady his breathing.

It took him a moment to realize the tv had turned to static. The air now freezing, forcing his teeth to clatter. Y/n tried to rise, grabbing for his cane but instead he found no purchase. The table screeched to the side, knocking it away and slamming his good leg into the couch.

Y/n struggled, shoving at the flimsy wood now turned heavy as he tried to reach for his cane. Finally he tossed the table, knocking his scotch glass to floor and shattering it. Y/n stood, gritting his teeth in pain as his bad leg protested the movement, but he persisted. His fingers almost caught around the body of the staff but glass shards flung towards him, just barely missing his hand. What felt like claws digging into his spine pulled y/n into the air and tossed him against the wall with a thunderous boom.

A ghastly face stared back at him, elongated limbs twitching and convulsing. The ghost didn’t appear quite old, but the lines on his face spoke otherwise. His eyes were wide and murky, as if staring at nothing. Y/n knew that kind of look.

Frames the Winchester had strung up on the walls clattered to the floor from the impact, shattering into pieces. The young faces of his family stared back, Sam and Dean's squishy smiles ripped apart as the room rattled.

Y/n tried to struggle but his head was slammed against the wall. Once, then twice, black spots beginning to speckle his vision. It soon geared for a third when the door slammed open.

"Over here, casper!”

Shots fired out and the ghost faded momentarily, letting y/n drop. He felt arms catch him right before his head could collide with the floor. Leather, John's jacket with a faint hint of his musk. Y/n looked up and saw his brother’s face marred with worry.

Not dad, never dad. Who was he to think his father would still save him after all this time.

Y/n could hear Dean swearing at the ghost as it reformed and charged in his direction. Dean gasped as the creature reached into his chest and threw him now as well. The younger Winchester fumbled for his gun, firing more rounds of rock salt but the creature persisted. He soon let out a yell as claws raked up his chest, leaving thin red lines behind.

Y/n finally caught his breath and dragged himself to his cane, lifting up it before taking a swing. The ghost dissipated but the temperature stayed cold. It was still here, just waiting.

Y/n went to cradle his brother, checking over his wounds.

"Shit Dee, you okay?"

Dean chuckled slightly.

"I was supposed to be asking you that"

The room rattled once more as the spirit reformed and returned to charge.

"So, you got a plan?"

"Honestly... I'm just buying time for Sammy"

As if on cue the ghost began to scream as flames engulfed its form. Soon it dissipated into a burning cloud while the static of the tv faded, turning back to a match of baseball. The lights flickered on and Dean began to stand, offering his hand to y/n.

"Thanks... but how'd you-"

"I think that's something for Sam to explain"

-

Turns out not only had the ghost been a veteran, latching onto other ptsd ridden souls, but Sam had actually got a vision of y/n's home earlier that morning before they even ran into him.

"So ya weren't just stalkin me"

"Hell no, didn't even know you'd be in there till Sam gave me a call on his way to burn the bones"

Y/n huffed out a laugh. It was odd discovering that little Sam was experiencing some sort psychic intuition, but it saved his life so y/n could hardly complain. At least he wasn't being creeped on this whole time.

Still, there was a faint rattled look to Sam, one y/n just didn't know how to help. It fluctuated in his eyes whenever he looked at his older brother. Exhaustion, fear, but also relief.

Regardless y/n's home was in shambles, glass scattered all over the place and furniture pushed about. Sam was putting some things back into place while Dean crouched next to the broken frames. His gaze caught onto the torn image of their family. He silently put back together the pieces and tossed any broken glass.

Y/n tried to help clean up but his brothers had him sit down once the sofa was back in place. It felt like a kick to his ego being swaddled like this, especially by his little siblings. However his leg thanked the inaction. A couple pain meds allowed his to settle back in without too much discomfort.

Luckily he was only bumped and scraped. It likely would've been worse had Dean not chased down Sam's vision. A soft sigh slipped from his lips.

"I appreciate this, I really do"

"Is there a 'but' incoming?"

"Not unless it's named Seymour"

Sam tilted a brow at y/n but Dean chuckled.

Almost everything was back to where it originally belonged and Dean took the moment to sit next to y/n. His face looked stuffed up with emotion, conflicted but trying to speak. It would funny if y/n didn't anticipate something heavy.

"Listen y/n... Sam and I spoke and I wanted to say-"

"Don't"

Dean looked startled, but persisted.

"No y/n, I shouldn't have gotten mad at you for leaving. You almost died, of course you couldn't take that shit anymore... If I were you I probably would've left too"

Y/n felt a bit at a loss, taken aback by Dean’s words.

"You look like you're being choked, kid. It's fine, I don't blame you for being upset"

He licked his lips, squeezing slightly at his cane for stability, as if it would make this moment easier.

"I regretted that night the moment it happened yanno? I never should'a left without you. I was just... I was scared but y’all were too. It wasn't fair"

Sam had slid over now, unfortunately unable to sit as the couch was barely enough for 2. Dean's hand fumbled in his lap, as if itching to comfort y/n but fighting it.

"I was supposed to protect you... and I ran"

Y/n hadn't noticed his shoulders beginning to shake until Sam placed a hand on them.

"Y/n-"

"I just hoped and prayed you two were okay. That you never went through the same shit that I did. I tried calling dad over and over but he wouldn't answer. I almost went back so many times but-"

His gaze dropped to his leg.

Y/n had so many mixed feelings about his injury. He wanted to live peacefully with it, move on and restart his life. He knew he'd never be the same as he was before, but not this different. The nightmares, the pain, the stares. At least he could treat the physical hurt, but personal? No, he couldn't change the way people treated him, either like glass or like he never existed at all. He was to be pitied or ignored, no in between. Nor could he stop himself from waking up in a cold sweat every night, still crying out to his father like a child. Waiting for him to come save him.

-

John looked down at his bloodied and battered son. The teen was gasping and wheezing, ichor oozing from his lips. He was changed and not just emotionally. Y/n's teeth were sharp, his eyes sunken and black, his blood to match. Leathery dry folds of skin bent between his limbs, stretching abnormally as his veins pulsed. The teen wailed a sound so inhuman, like a hissing growl interrupted with a scream.

It was clear he was too late. Whatever had been done to his son had already taken hold, turning him something inhuman. Another monster. The boy clawed and writhed yet his featureless eyes welled with tears.

"dad... please"

Without a sound, John reloaded his gun, popping in one last bullet. Y/n tried wailing further, getting louder and more frantic as his father pressed the firearm to his son's temple. His voice cracked as his consciousness began fading again. John's fingers twitched against the metal, his hand shaking ever so slightly as he prepared to fire. He squeezed the trigger-

-

Sam's hand squeezed y/n’s shoulder, grounding him back into the moment. Dean's face was a mess of guilt and something akin to... anger.

"You called him?"

Y/n looked over to Dean.

"Of course, I tried for months”

Dean ground his teeth and yet held his tongue. A frustration building up and making his hands wobble. Y/n couldn't blame him, he'd still be angry too. And yet Dean leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his older brother, holding him firm.

The movement shocked y/n and it took everything in him not to sob. How long had he wished to see them? How long had he been living in fear that the reason dad never called back was because they were dead? How long has he been alone in this city, taking care of himself knowing no doctor could cure his mutations. No one could help him. No one could understand him. No one.

The isolation was suffocating. But this? This was... good... nice... it felt safe. His brothers alive, breathing, warm, and real. Despite himself y/n felt tears begin to fall anyways as he let himself return the embrace.

They stayed like that for a moment, letting everything wash over them. Sam was tugged in by y/n's stray hand, not wanting him to be left out. Y/n grabbed at both of their faces and gave a light squeeze, watching them pout at the action. It took a couple minutes for y/n to center himself again but finally he let them go.

There were a million things y/n wanted to say, but his mouth simply couldn't make words. Instead he pulled out a notepad and began scribbling.

"Ere, the first one is my new work and tha second is my personal number. If you need me fur anything, anything at all, call"

The boys gave a weak smile as Sam pocketed the paper.

Eventually the two departed, back on the road to follow their next job. Y/n waved goodbye as they went, noting to buy more rock salt for his home. Like hell was he gonna let a spirit get a slip on him again. Not so much as he knew his boys were still out there.

-

"Help me"

Despite the press of cold metal, no shot was fired. John simply stared at his son as he wept. The older Winchester kept telling himself over and over "this isn't your son anymore" but...

Y/n's eyes faded, back to their natural brown doe like color. His tears all the clearer.

John couldn't do it, dropping the gun and letting it clatter loudly on the bloody floor. Y/n gasped as his father pulled out a hunting knife and began cutting away his binds.

"Dad-"

"Shhh shhh save your breath”

Y/n tried to move but his body refused, too full of adrenaline and pain to process the attempts. He felt John's hand slip behind and cradle his head. The feeling of warm flesh foreign and yet welcome. Y/n groaned as he was lifted from the table in a bridal carry. The flesh of his calf hung down in a grotesque display, bone visible and chipped. John moved as fast as he could without jostling y/n too hard, rushing back to his car. There was no way to know if y/n would make it but… he was going to try. Rid this poison from his son’s veins and save him.

Another reason to weep, another reason to drink, another reason he can’t stop. These creatures had to pay for what they’ve done.

[mymreaderlibrary]

Have an idea for a platonic winchester + male reader but I’m so lazy HELLLPPP

[mymreaderlibrary]

THEME: it's just hate sex with dean..

CHARACTER: male reader x dean winchester

NOTE: as promised, dean winchester one shot. also!! requests are open.

WARNING: breeding kink,, clothed sex,, dirty talk,, degradation,, slight dacryphilia,, hair pulling,, short and not proof-read :(

“..hhhfuck—” dean breathed out lowly, grasping onto the table's edge for dear life. his back was arched slightly, forehead pressed against the wooden surface itself.

dean was bent over a table, and you were fucking him from behind. your hands holding his hips firmly, thrusting in and out at a steady pace. sure, it was stable, but it wasn't fast enough for dean. he wanted you to be rougher. “Don't be a bitch, dean.” you cooed gently, pushing one hand up dean's spine, the action more sensual than anything. “let me hear you.” in response, the other just gritted his teeth, letting out a small frustrated groan. how could he let this happen? he hated you, he hated every single bone of your body.

“you- fuck like a virgin.” dean mumbled out, his tone bitter. “this your first time? you experimenting, huh?” he quipped, lifting his head up and turning it to the side, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You let out an amused scoff in response, suddenly pushing your hips forward, the action harsh and quick. it made dean stumble, knees buckling for a moment, his grip on the edge tightening. he turned his head away immediately clenching his jaw.

“don't try to taunt me, dean. you're the one taking my cock like a damn slut right now. i can feel you clenching around me,” you spoke, leaning forward, your chest just above his back. “shh-shut the fuck up, you son of a bitch—” dean responded with a strained voice, his face twitching in annoyance. or maybe from the fact that he was holding back so many sounds. he pretended like he didn't like what you said, but god, he only got harder. his abdomen tensed too. fuck. “listen to yourself right now..” you muttered, your lips right next to his ear. “the little gasps? yeah, you love this,” your tone took a more confident edge.

dean hadn't even realized that he was gasping, letting out soft breaths that soon evolved to pants. “Mmhhm—” he let out an agitated groan that turned into a humourless chuckle. “you- keep telling yourself that-” he choked out. “oh, I don't need to. you think I would've been able to get you into this position if you didn't want it? aren't you a big, strong hunter?” you teased, moving one hand to the back of his neck. soon enough, you gripped his hair, pulling his head back. “so, tell me,” you urged him, pressing a kiss to his throat. “tell me how much you want this. how much you want my cock, how good you feel right now.”

dean kept quiet, his breathing laboured and heavy. his eyes fluttered shut as you continued kissing his throat, eyebrows stitched together. “go to hell.” he spoke as he tried to squirm out of your grip. “no, no dean,” you pressed gentle kisses against his skin again, making your way from his throat to the nape of his neck, letting go of his messy hair. “not what i asked for,” the moment you said the word 'asked' you thrusted in deeper, as if enunciating your point, making dean squirm even more. “but I'll let it slide.” you breathed out, eyes boring into the back of his head.

“shhh..shit. fuck fuck fuck-” dean groaned out, his eyes screwed shut. “you're a bastard-” he said before letting out a mewl, of all things. you let out a small chuckle, letting your pace increase - you couldn't torture dean for long, you were starting to feel bad with all his jittery squirming. “mhm? what else?” you inquired softly, so innocently, as if you weren't pounding him from the back. dean could take this, of course he could. But then, both of your hands moved back to dean's hips, grip firm, as you pulled him against you. essentially, making his ass meet your pelvis.

“hhn!” he gritted out, his fingers curling up around the edge of the table. “d- don't you manhandle me.” he protested weakly, his thighs tensing and hips stuttering. “that's not manhandling, dean. d'you want me to, though?” you asked gently, keeping your pace steady. of course, no response from the man under you. he'd be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn't curious as to what manhandling felt like, but he didn't have it in him to ask for that. let alone from you, someone he loathed. he's chastising himself for even letting this happen. his pride - wounded.

as dean continued his silent treatment of sorts, you decided for him. why the fuck not? gotta have some fun in a way, right? you pulled out, only momentarily, as you flipped dean over to his back with ease, earning a small, barely even audible yelp from the hunter. you pushed your way back in with slight resistance, dean's abdomen tensing as you did, his hands scrambling to grasp at something. well shit, his hands couldn't reach the table's edge anymore. and reaching for the edge above him would be uncomfortable. you noted his actions, realising immediately that he didn't want to touch you.

“damn, not even gonna put your hands on me?” you asked with a slightly offended tone, shifting on your feet to find a better, more comfortable angle. “c'mon..” you groaned out, one hand gripping dean's still clothed thigh, the other moving up to grip his jaw. “you want to, right? fuck your ego, dean. just do it.” you urged, your face so close to his. his vision was slightly unfocused, his toes curling just a bit. the thought was so tempting. his mind was starting to get lost in the pleasure you were providing, his skin tingling under your touch. “ain't happening.” he managed weakly, his face a.. a scowl? seriously?

“what a bitch,” you muttered in disbelief. “i've already got you where I wanted to, what's the point of giving me attitude, hm?” you pressed, the sound of your (unbuckled) belt buckle getting progressively louder due to your thrusts getting deeper. the slick sound of your cock going in and out of dean's hole progressing in volume, too. dean almost bit his tongue while trying to contain his noises. he wasn't going to give it to you. “baby, you've gotta be more compliant than that..” you cooed gently, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips that dean didn't return. he wanted to. fuck you were so hot. soft groans escaped his throat, his lips pressed to a thin line as his hands gripped at literally nothing.

“how 'bout we make a deal, hm?” you suggested suddenly, your thrusts slowing down but not stopping. that grabbed dean's interest. “you stop holding back.. and I won't mention this, ever again.” he shot you a skeptical look. you? not talking about this? what a joke. “i promise.” you added, your tone almost pleading. “i just gotta know how good I make you feel. that's enough for me.” you breathed out, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the skin of his thigh. “i'll kill you- if- if you don't keep that stupid promise.” dean threatened, albeit with a shaky voice. he was far too easy to deal with.

finally, after what seemed an eternity, one of dean's hands found their way to your shoulder, the other reaching to hold onto your waist - or more so your shirt. due to his newfound compliance, you could give it your all without him trying to hold back. you pushed your cock all the way in, because you hadn't yet. safe to say that the man you were currently fucking the living daylight out of didn't know you weren't bottoming out. “Ah!- motherfuckerrrr-- mmhh—” he whimpered out in a broken voice, his hand moving from your shoulder to the side of your neck. his face was scrunched up, eyes shut tightly.

what heavenly sounds. you let a smile creep up onto your face as you kissed him, passionately, this time dean reciprocating the kiss even if he was a bit late. he let out deep grunts every time you thrusted in, your mouth just devouring the damned sounds. you didn't waste a second, pushing your tongue into his mouth and swirling it against his. dean's breath stuttered, almost feeling overwhelmed, his thighs aching beyond belief. when you pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath, dean spoke up. “are you fucking trying to suck out my soul?” he seethed, panting heavily.

“somethin' like that, yeah.” you breathed out, your eyes locked onto his neck as your hand that was on his jaw just ran over his torso. eventually, it ended up at the hem of his shirt. you simply pushed the shirt up to his collarbone, dean's facial expression shifting to a more confused one. the moment your mouth landed on his nipple, he forced himself to hold in a girlish shriek. he wasn't used to his nipples being played with. both of the latter's hands gripped at your hair, in an attempt to ground himself but also pull you away if needed. “wh- what the fuck, man?” dean got out, his voice strained, maybe a pitch higher.

the sensation of you sucking on his nipple and pounding into him ruthlessly made him let out continuous moans, his voice breaking more with each other. eventually, he let out a sob, his fingers tightening in your hair, the stinging pain making you groan against dean's skin. you could feel his thighs trembling against your pelvis. you didn't stop though, as dean made no protest. but what you took notice of was his whiny moan of your name. it made your gaze shift to his face. god, it made you wish you had a camera just to take a photo and hang it on your wall. his eyes welled up with tears, just barely, his mouth agape, drool on the corners of his lips, all pretty, just for you. you trailed up kisses from his chest to his face, the action more gentle than you anticipated but oh well. “fuck, you're such a slut.” you mumbled against his cheek, your eyes closed as you got lost on the bliss that were dean's sounds, his hopeless squirming and trembling. “takin' me so well, like you were made for this.” you continued. “were you?” you inquired, your tone too sweet compared to your words.

a fucking whimper was what you got in response, his hips shamelessly rocking against yours, as if seeking friction. he wasn't getting enough? “you tryna get off, huh?” you leaned back up, gazing down at him. “ugh, I wanna breed you.” you rasped out, too lost in your own fantasies. “just imagine it, me filling you up, to the brim. with my cum. mine.” dean's face contorted an almost concerned facial expression. the worst thing was was that he didn't even hate what you said, he wasn't against it. he might've actually liked it. he pulled you down as his hands remained in your hair, still, his mouth latching onto your neck as he sucked hickeys onto your skin. you hummed out a sound in response, twitching inside dean. he only continued making sounds against your skin. he seemed desperate to have some sense of control.

dean kept his head buried into your shoulder, as the numerous and various moans, whines and whimpers escaped his lips. he was trying so hard to catch his breath, his thighs tensing around your waist. “who knew such a deep voiced hunter would make such girlish moans?” you teased mindlessly, your only focus now to just breed the fuck outta him. it was at this point that dean didn't even bother responding, frantically holding you close, his hands trembling. oh god you were too much. not that he'd admit that. the more you continued thrusting into him, the more he cried out. yes, cried. sure, tears weren't rolling down his face, but they were there, you knew they were. you could recognise it, the way his voice got high pitched and so eager.

eventually, the overwhelming heat that was pooling in your lower stomach was getting even stronger, and you were close. not even warning dean, you gave harsh thrusts, the other's body twitching helplessly in response as he gasped. you came inside with a groan, your hands holding dean's waist so severel that it might've even left bruises. dean let out a sharp hiss before it turned into a mewl, once again, and he couldn't help but get even more turned on by the liquid that was inside of him. he came, untouched, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as his blunt nails dug into your shirt. he was sweating, his head lowered.

“this ain't 'nough.” you mumbled weakly, starting to move again. goddamn it, dean was in for a night.

[mymreaderlibrary]

Opening this blog again just because a new obsession hit… embarrassing but I knew this would happen.

[mymreaderlibrary]

Wicked Desires

Words: 5,574

Pov: 3rd Person

Pairing: Crowley x Male!Winchester!Reader

Warning(s): Language, suggestive content, angst, semi-smut???

Summary: The reader and Crowley had been together for a while, and had planned on keeping their relationship a secret from the reader's brothers. What happens when Sam and Dean accidentally stumble upon something they aren't supposed to see?

Request:

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request Sam and Dean finding out their older brother is going out with Crowley?

@xweirdo101x

A/N: This was only supposed to be 1,800 words, what happened??? I really hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I hope I did your request and Crowley justice! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

The chill fall air nipped at (Y/N)’s skin, causing a shiver to run down his spine as he exited the Impala. Pain shot through his ankle and up his leg when he stepped onto his right foot. He winced and let out a deep hiss as he reached over and held onto the top of the car for support. Sam got out of the car and was quick to move next to him. He wrapped an arm around his torso while placing (Y/N)’s arm around his shoulders. Sam shook his head. 

“I told you not to step in front of me. I could have taken that vamp out,” he said. 

(Y/N) let out a deep chuckle. His chest rumbled. “The vamp was going low and you were swinging high. You were lucky I did get in there, otherwise, he would have hit your leg like he did mine.” 

“I could have handled it.” 

“I know you could have, kid.” 

Sam rolled his eyes at the nickname and assisted (Y/N) with walking to the motel door. Dean got out of the driver’s seat, got out the room key, and opened the door. He shook his head as well. He stepped to the side and let his brothers into the room. 

“Sam’s right, (Y/N),” Dean began as Sam led (Y/N) into the room and helped him sit on the bed furthest from the door. “You have to let us take some hits once in a while. It can’t just be you getting hurt out there.” 

(Y/N) let out a sigh. He lifted his injured foot onto the bed while the other rested against the tattered carpet. “You guys need to stop worrying about me. I’m fine, okay? It’s just a sprained ankle. I’ve had worse, nothing I can’t handle.” 

“And I could have handled it, too, if you would have let me take him out.” Sam placed his hands on his hips. 

“Trust me, Sammy, it’s a lot harder to lug your big ass through the door than it is mine. Besides, that’s what big brothers are for. They’re supposed to protect you. You took the vamp out right after he got me, so we’re good. No harm, no foul.” 

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but let out a sigh instead, finding it useless to argue. He ran a hand down his face and turned away. Dean just silently stared at (Y/N), jaw clenched ever so slightly. (Y/N) licked his lips. 

“Look, the hunt went fine. If the only thing we get out of it is a sprained ankle, then I’m okay with it! The vampires are dead, we’re all tired, and, I don’t know about you guys, but my stomach has been speaking in tongues ever since we got in the car. Why don’t you boys go and get us something to eat at that diner we saw down the road while I get cleaned up?” 

Hesitantly, Sam and Dean nodded their heads. Sam began to walk towards the door while Dean kept looking at his older brother. (Y/N) raised his brows. 

“Dean, I’m fine. Really. Like I said, it’s just a sprained ankle. I’m not even bleeding anywhere. The blood on my shirt isn’t even mine.” (Y/N) explained. 

“I know…” Dean trailed. “But, believe me, we’re gonna talk about this when we get back.” Dean pulled the keys out of his pocket as he pointed at him. 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes and waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, just go get the food.” 

“Double cheeseburger?” 

“Hell yeah, extra greasy,” (Y/N) mumbled and licked his lips, already able to feel his mouth begin to water. 

Dean shook his head before he followed Sam out of the room, the heavy wooden door closing roughly behind them. (Y/N) let out a tired breath of air as soon as he was alone. He stood, making sure to keep the weight off of his right foot as he did so. He needed to get cleaned up. 

He stripped from his clothes, tossing them onto the black duffel that rested half-hazardly over one of the side chairs. When his clothes were discarded, he made his way to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He flicked on the switch for the light, the whirring of the vent fan filling his ears. He turned on the shower, checked to make sure that the temperature of the water was to his liking, then stepped in. Immediately, he could feel all of the aching muscles in his body relax. (Y/N) always loved getting the first shower after a hunt, the water was fresh and warm and guaranteed a better clean. 

He didn’t take long in the shower, he wanted to make sure that his brothers had some hot water for when they got clean as well. He stepped out, grabbed one of the heavily used off-white towels, and wrapped it around his waist. He tied it at the corner and walked out of the room. The chill from the drastic change in temperature allowed goosebumps to appear on his arms and legs, the hair on the back of his neck standing tall. 

(Y/N) went over to his duffel bag. He sorted his dirty clothes into one side of the bag, then grabbed a clean pair of boxers. He put them on underneath the towel before he tossed it to the side. As he took out the rest of the clothes he was going to wear that night, he felt a slight shift in the atmosphere. He froze. It was silent, but the air felt heavier, almost warmer. 

“Hello, love,” the deep, familiar, accented voice spoke. 

(Y/N) allowed his tense shoulders to relax as he turned. A smirk appeared on his face as he saw Crowley standing there, clad in his usual attire. Crowley eyed him. 

“Damn,” Crowley shook his head. “I knew I should have popped in a little sooner. Maybe I could have joined you for a shower.” 

(Y/N) chuckled as he limped over to him. “Aren’t you a charmer?” He questioned as he leaned in and pressed his lips against Crowley’s. 

They shared a brief, chaste kiss before pulling away. Crowley’s hand reached up and gently caressed (Y/N)’s cheek. His thumb brushed against his jawline as his gaze shifted down to (Y/N)’s feet. 

“I see the hunt didn’t go so well,” he observed. 

“The hunt went fine,” (Y/N) grumbled and went back over to his duffel bag. “I got the worst of it, and it’s just a sprain. Nothing too severe.” 

“You did it to save one of your brothers again, didn’t you?” 

(Y/N) hesitated, the silence answering Crowley’s question for him. Crowley shook his head in disappointment as he walked over to him, wrapping his arms around his waist. 

“You know, those two idiots can handle themselves, right?” 

“We’re not going to discuss this. I’ve already explained; I’m their brother, and I have a right to defend them as I see fit.” 

“You always defend them.” 

“I always see fit.” 

(Y/N) picked up his t-shirt and went to place his arms inside before Crowley stopped him. He looked at Crowley for a moment. He could see the wicked glimmer hiding behind his eyes. 

“Leave it off,” Crowley’s voice was deep and seductive. 

Crowley leaned in and pressed his lips to (Y/N)’s. That kiss was slower, passionate, and heated. Crowley’s hands wandered down (Y/N)’s body to his hips. (Y/N) reached around and cupped the back of Crowley’s head, his fingers entangled in Crowley’s short mess of brown hair. His other hand rested against his chest, his fingertips caressing the smooth fabric of his tie. 

When they parted, (Y/N) let out a heavy breath. Meanwhile, Crowley moved his lips to (Y/N) jaw and down to his neck. (Y/N) tilted his head to the side as he pulled Crowley closer. 

“Sam and Dean are going to be back any minute.” He mumbled. 

“That gives us more of a reason to spend as much time together as possible.” 

“Do you think we have time?” 

“Do you?” Crowley pulled himself away from (Y/N), looking into his eyes. 

(Y/N) stared at him momentarily before his eyes shifted to the bed closest to them, then, finally, to the door. He wasn’t too sure how much time had elapsed since he had gotten in the shower, nor how long it would take for Sam and Dean to get back. His mind was clouded with lust and desire, and the only thing that he could focus on was Crowley. 

“Bed,” (Y/N) breathed as his hands made quick work to dispose of Crowley's suit jacket.

The fabric fell onto the floor as they made their way over to the bed, their lips connecting once again. The back of (Y/N)’s knees hit the side of the bed and he fell back onto it, his body bouncing from the force. Crowley was quick to climb on top of him. They kissed harder that time, desperately. While Crowley’s hands roamed around (Y/N)’s bare chest, (Y/N) was focused on taking as many layers off of Crowley as possible. 

Crowley’s tie was the first to go as it joined the jacket on the floor, followed by Crowley’s belt, pants, and shirt. When both men were only wearing their boxers, they moved up the length of the bed until (Y/N) felt the pillow hit the back of his head. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how much I missed you,” (Y/N) growled between kisses. 

Crowley chuckled. “I could tell, love. I missed you, too. Do you know how hard it is to find time alone with you when you are always on the road?” Crowley moved back and began to leave small, butterfly kisses down his chest. “How hard it is to keep my eyes off of you every time your brothers summon me?” Crowley’s lips trailed down his pecs towards his stomach. “How often I want to remind you who you belong to?” 

Crowley’s fingers began to play with the waistband of (Y/N)’s boxers. (Y/N) let out a needy whine. 

“Crowley, please,” he breathed. 

Crowley smirked as he looked up at him. “You beg so deliciously, darling.” 

Before either of them could move an inch, the door to the motel room opened. Dean was the first to walk in. When his gaze landed on the bed, he quickly went to cover his eyes with his hand. 

“Woah, sorry, (Y/N), didn’t know you-” he froze, eyes wide as he saw the person on the bed with his brother. 

Dean’s hand slowly lowered as he took in the scene. (Y/N) was resting on his back, a horrified look of shock present on his face. Crowley sat between (Y/N)’s legs, his fingers still hooked onto the waistband of his boxers. Sam entered after Dean and, before he could say anything, he stopped. His eyes, too, widened. A sly smirk slowly appeared on Crowley’s lips. 

“‘Ello boys,” he said, his voice breaking the heavy silence. 

Soon, Dean’s expression turned from shock to anger. His fists were clenched at his sides. “What the hell are you doing to my brother?” He growled out as he took a couple of steps closer to the bed. 

Crowley simply sat up on the bed, moving towards the edge. (Y/N) was quick to move between Dean and Crowley. He held his hands up. 

“Dean! Stop!” (Y/N) spoke in a booming voice. 

“You son of a bitch! I’m going to kill you!” Dean tried to push past (Y/N), but he held his ground. 

(Y/N) stood from the bed and placed a hand on Dean’s chest. “Dean!” 

Dean turned his attention from Crowley to (Y/N). His jaw clenched as he pushed (Y/N)’s hand off of him and turned back towards the door. He ran his hand down his face. The tension in the room was thick enough to be cut with a knife. Everyone stood in an uncomfortable silence. 

What broke the silence was the sharp sound of snapping fingers. Everyone turned to look at Crowley. (Y/N) had expected him to leave, but he was surprised to see that Crowley was still sitting there, fully dressed in the outfit that he had appeared in. (Y/N) turned back to look at his brothers. Sam and Dean stood side by side. Both of them were sending deadly glares towards him. If looks could kill, (Y/N) would be dead…again. 

(Y/N) took that moment to limp over towards his duffel bag. He got out the T-shirt and put it over his head. When it was on, he smoothed it out over his torso and limped back over to the bed. He sat next to Crowley, who had been watching (Y/N)’s movement the entire time. Once he was settled, Sam and Dean moved away from the door until they were standing in front of Crowley and (Y/N). 

“Care to explain what the Hell is going on here?” Dean asked as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

(Y/N) placed his elbows onto his knees, back slouched as he leaned forward. His eyes were cast down towards the floor. He felt like a child being scolded by his parents. Crowley glanced over at him before he opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly cut off by Dean. 

“If you say one word, I will stab you, do you understand?” Dean said between clenched teeth. 

Crowley closed his mouth and held his hands up in surrender. (Y/N) shook his head and clasped his hands together. 

“Crowley and I…” he trailed. “Are together.” 

“Together?” Dean raised his brows. 

“As in together-together?” Sam added. 

(Y/N) nodded. 

Sam let out a sigh and shook his head. Dean shuffled in his spot. 

“And…how long has this been going on?” 

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment. His eyes were still cast down towards the ground. He couldn’t even look his brothers in the eyes. He felt ashamed. He had kept his relationship with Crowley from Sam and Dean for a while, and it was something that he never wanted to come to light. He knew this was how Dean and Sam were going to react. Crowley was a demon after all. The King of Hell to be exact. Their relationship was forbidden to begin with. Still, he couldn’t help his feelings for Crowley. 

“How long, (Y/N),” Dean growled out. 

“A year.” (Y/N) replied softly. 

“A year,” Dean repeated. “A year. You’ve been screwing around with Crowley for a fucking year!? Was this before or after all the shit that he did to us? Are we even talking about the same Crowley here?” 

“Dean, listen,” (Y/N) stood from the bed. 

“No, you listen,” Dean stepped forward so that he was merely inches away from (Y/N), his finger pointed at his chest. “I don’t know what kind of fantasy relationship you think you have, but Crowley is using you.” 

“I’m right here,” Crowley mumbled. 

“You shut your-” Dean lunged for Crowley. 

“Dean!” (Y/N) grabbed the collar of Dean’s shirt to hold him back. “Crowley’s different, okay? He’s changed. He cares about me and, dammit, I care about him.” 

Dean looked at (Y/N) in disbelief. He scoffed and turned his back on him. As he ran his fingers through his hair, Sam took a step forward. He was visibly more calm than Dean was. 

“(Y/N), you know how Crowley is, you’ve seen what he can do.” He shook his head. 

“You guys don’t know anything!” (Y/N) shook his head rapidly. “You know all those demon hunts we’ve been on this year? You wanna know how we got all of the information so quickly? It wasn’t because of me like you thought.” He gestured dramatically to his chest. “It was because of Crowley! He was the one that gave me the information, he was the one that led us to every single one of those demon hideouts and let us get out of there as quickly as we did.” 

“Yeah, and he’s just going to use that as an excuse for you to do favors for him,” Dean’s attitude was dripping from his voice at that point. “You’re supposed to be our big brother. You’re supposed to be protecting us from monsters like him, not sleeping with them!” 

“That’s bullshit!” (Y/N) exclaimed. 

“No, you wanna know what’s bullshit? The fact that we trusted you! The fact that you thought you would be able to pull the wool over our eyes. How the hell are we supposed to trust you now? How do you expect us to sleep in the same room, let alone the same building as someone who would betray us like this?” 

(Y/N) tilted his head to the side. “What are you saying?” He crossed his arms over his chest. 

Dean paused and licked his lips. “I want you out.” 

“Dean,” Sam began. 

“No, Sam.” Dean held a hand up. “(Y/N) made his bed…now he can sleep in it.” 

(Y/N)’s shoulders slumped. “You’re kicking me out? I’m your brother, Dean.” 

“You were my brother. Now I don’t know who you are anymore.” 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“Oh, I do. I do mean it. You can get out. Now.” 

(Y/N) stared at Dean as he looked down at the floor. (Y/N)’s eyes moved to Sam, who was also looking at the floor for a moment before he turned his back on him. (Y/N) slowly nodded. 

“Alright,” he whispered. “I’ll leave.” 

(Y/N) limped past Sam and Dean and towards his bag. He grabbed his last pair of clean pants and put them on. He put on some socks and his boots before closing up his duffel. He slung it over his shoulder. He made his way towards the door and stopped for a moment. He looked back at Sam and Dean. Their backs were turned to him. Crowley had stood from his spot on the bed and began to make his way over to him. With a faint nod, (Y/N) opened up the motel room door and left. 

It had been six months since (Y/N) left the bunker. At first, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He had made it his goal in life to protect his little brothers at all costs, but when they wanted him to leave, he felt lost. He began to hunt on his own, not going far from Lebanon to pick up a couple of smaller ones here and there. Then, after the third hunt, he knew that it wasn’t for him. He was never good with hunting alone. It had been a big shift going from working with two other people to working alone. 

In the end, he decided that, even though he had been banished from the bunker, he didn’t necessarily have to stop protecting Sam and Dean. He had set up shop in his car, a small two-door truck that he had snatched from a shopping center in Lincoln, Nebraska, and rested a mile down the road from the entrance of the bunker. To go the extra mile, he had picked up a tracking device from a sketchy shop in Kansas City and put it in the Impala when Sam and Dean were asleep. The device gave him alerts on his phone whenever the car was in motion. 

He followed Sam and Dean from hunt to hunt using the tracker. He made sure to keep a safe distance to not alert them. He would get a motel room, just like them, which allowed him to sleep in a real bed and take a real shower instead of sleeping in the front seat of his car and praying that he didn’t smell too bad if he had to go out in public. That was his routine; track the boys to the hunt, keep an eye on them, go back to the bunker, wait. Wash, rinse, repeat. 

The entire time, Crowley was by his side. He would pop into the front seat of the truck occasionally. They spent the time talking to one another, an attempt made by Crowley to distract (Y/N) from everything that was going on in his head. At times it worked, but there were instances when (Y/N) just wanted to be by himself. He could tell that he was pushing Crowley away, but Crowley seemed persistent. He would bring (Y/N) food when he was hungry, and there were even moments when Crowley tried to urge him to make up with his brothers. (Y/N) always rejected the idea. No matter how much he wanted to be back with his brothers, they seemed happier without him. He would let them have their peace, even if he didn’t have his. 

Around April, (Y/N) tracked Sam and Dean to a small town in the lower part of South Dakota. Having read up on the reports, he realized that they were dealing with vampires. As a result of his recon, he concluded that it wasn’t just a couple of vampires that his brothers would be going against. It would be a whole nest. He estimated about ten vampires, and that was just the ones that he had seen pass outside and in the windows of the farmhouse that they were held up in. (Y/N) was nervous. It was too big of a job for them to do on their own. 

But (Y/N) knew how hard-headed Dean was. 

They were going into the nest guns blazing. 

(Y/N) couldn’t have that. 

For the first time in months, he had decided to make himself known. Later the next night, (Y/N) followed about a mile behind the Impala back to the farmhouse. He waited a couple of minutes before he exited his truck. He walked up to the house, machete in hand tight in his grasp. As he made his way, slowly, onto the porch, he caught a glimpse at some of the corpses that were around the perimeter. When he walked up the porch, he was able to see the front door kicked in and the sound of combat became louder. He took a deep breath before he rushed into the house. 

It was absolute carnage. Dark red blood decorated the floors and walls throughout the cramped foyer and bodies lay askew in various positions across the aged wood. (Y/N) stepped over the bodies as he made his way through the house towards the sound of fighting. Past the living room, he could see the chaos that was present in the small kitchen. The dining table had been flipped over, cabinets were broken off of their hinges, and blood splattered the discolored tile.

Dean lay on the floor, his hands held behind his back, machete across the room. Two vampires stood over him. One of them had their mouth agape, their sharp fangs glimmering in the moonlight. Sam was on the opposite side of the kitchen, a larger, stalkier vampire holding him against the wall, his forearm pressed into Sam’s throat. His fangs were out and they were inches away from Sam’s neck. 

All (Y/N) saw was red. 

(Y/N)’s movements were swift. One would never imagine that he had been out of the hunting game for months. One wouldn’t even imagine he was human. The way he moved, decapitating each of the vampires that held his brothers hostage, was almost ghostly. Their heads rolled on the floor, clumped together in a small pile in the center of the kitchen. (Y/N) didn’t even give the vampires a chance to react. 

By the time the threat was eliminated, (Y/N)’s clothes and face were splashed in blood. The only sound that filled the room was the pants that fell from each of their mouths. (Y/N) lowered his arm, the machete dripping with blood onto the stained floor. He reached down, grabbed the hem of his shirt, and wiped the blood from his face, pinching his lips shut as he did so. When he pulled the shirt away, he could see that Sam and Dean were staring at him, their eyes wide. 

Sam glanced down at Dean. Dean let out a grunt as he struggled to get up. Sam rushed over to his side and helped him up. When Dean went to put pressure on his right foot, he winced. He reached over and held onto one of the countertops for support before he and Sam turned and looked at their older brother again. Sam’s face was covered in an expression of disbelief. 

“(Y/N)?” Sam breathed. 

(Y/N) slowly lifted his arms. “In the flesh,” he mumbled before lowering them once more. He looked between Sam and Dean. “Look, I know that I’m the last person you want to see, but,” 

(Y/N) was interrupted when Sam pulled him into a tight embrace, his arms roughly wrapped around him. (Y/N) raised his brows in shock and hesitantly hugged him back. It had been so long since he had seen his brothers up close, let alone hugged them, that the emotions started to bubble up inside of him. With the adrenaline wearing off, he could feel the familiar prickle of tears appear in the corner of his eyes. He never realized just how much he missed his little brothers. 

When Sam pulled away, he had a small smile on his face. “Uh, how have you been? It’s been-” 

“Six months. I’ve kept track,” (Y/N) mumbled as he looked down at his machete. He reached over and placed it on one of the counters. 

“How the hell did you find us?” Dean grunted. 

(Y/N) lifted his head to look at him. Dean was fully leaning against the counter, his right foot lifted off of the ground. One of his hands was pressed against his side while the other one rested against the granite. 

“I put a tracker on Baby,” He answered. 

“You what?” 

“Put a tracker on your car. I’ve been following you guys for months.” 

“Why?”

(Y/N) hesitated. “Because I told myself the day that mom died that I was going to protect you guys no matter what. No matter how much you two pissed me off or I pissed you two off. You’re my little brothers, and it’s my job to look after you. To make sure you guys are alive and kicking, and if I wouldn’t have been here…” he shook his head. “I don’t think I would have been able to forgive myself if I just walked away.” 

“(Y/N)...” Sam trailed. 

“I know, I told you guys I would leave and I did. And, if you want, I’ll be out of here after this. We can get in our cars, go our separate ways, and we never have to see each other again. I don’t want that to happen, but I’ll respect your wishes if that’s what you want. Before I go, though, let me tell you this; 

“I understand how upset you guys were when you found out about Crowley and me. I understand how much of a shock that must have been. Hell, it was a shock to me when I realized that I liked the annoying bastard, and that’s the whole reason why I kept it from you two. I knew that you would react this way and I just didn’t want there to be any bad blood between us. We’re brothers, we’re supposed to stick together. Crowley and I talked about it and he understands that you boys come first before he does. It pissed him off when he would see my injuries from protecting you on hunts, but he stopped fighting me on it a while ago. Crowley’s not the same person around you two as he is around me. Believe it or not, he’s sweet and caring, and that is something that I never thought I would be able to say about him when we first met him. 

“For my entire life, I had made it my goal to protect you guys. I never thought that I would have even a small amount of normal in my life. Granted, having a relationship with the King of Hell isn’t exactly normal, but it’s the first taste of normalcy I have ever had and I love it. I love him and he loves me. He knows my limits, and what I will and will not do for him. He’s never asked me to do anything for him and I’ve never forced him to help me. I know that you guys hate the fact that I’m with him, and if that’s something that’s stopping you from having any type of relationship with me, then I will end it with Crowley because you guys are more important to me than him. He knows this. He’s prepared for me to end everything to go back to you guys. I just don’t want to lose you both. You mean so much to me. We’ve been through so much together and I would hate to see something as stupid as a man tear us apart.” 

Sam and Dean sat in silence as they listened to (Y/N). Once he was finished, he stood up straight. Sam glanced towards the ground before he looked over at Dean. He gave a small, short nod. Sam then turned his attention back towards his oldest brother. 

“We’ve been talking…a lot,” Sam admitted. 

Dean pushed himself off of the counter and hobbled next to his little brother. “I, uh…I think I overreacted when we found out.” 

“What?” (Y/N) furrowed his brows. 

“I shouldn’t have kicked you out.” Dean shook his head. “I was just so pissed off. But Sam and I have been talking recently and, uh, he mentioned that you’ve been…happier.” 

“But it never really occurred to us that Crowley could be the reason why you were so happy all of a sudden.” Sam continued. 

“Yeah, how the Hell he makes you happy, I’m not too sure.” Dean shrugged his shoulders. “But he does and…as long as you’re happy, then we’re happy.” 

“And, to be honest, we missed having our big brother with us. Hunting, just the two of us, has been fine, but…we hate taking the blunt end of all the injuries. That’s supposed to be your job,” Sam said with a small smirk in the corner of his lips. 

(Y/N) felt a lump appear in his throat as he looked between Sam and Dean. Tears formed in his eyes, but he was quick to wipe them away. Without saying anything, he walked over to the two of them and wrapped his arms around them. They returned the hug, placing their hands on the top of his back. 

“I love you idiots so much,” he whispered as he blinked the tears away. 

“I love you, too.” they both replied in a voice that matched his. 

When they pulled away from the embrace, (Y/N)’s hands stayed on their shoulders. He looked between the two of them. 

“Does that mean I can come back?” He asked. “I missed my memory foam mattress.” 

Sam rolled his eyes while Dean chuckled. “We wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replied. “And, when we get back, you can clean yourself up. You look homeless.” 

(Y/N) laughed and ran his fingers through his hair and beard, which were both longer than what he was normally comfortable with. “I don’t know. I kind of like my new look. Needs to be cleaned up, but I’m kind of digging it.” 

Dean clenched his teeth in a disgusted expression. “Whatever works for you, man,” he patted (Y/N)’s back. 

Sam chuckled. “How about we get the Hell out of here, guys? We can come back in the morning to burn the bodies.” 

“Sounds good to me.” (Y/N) nodded. “And how about some burgers? On me.” 

“You’re speaking my language, brother,” Dean smirked. “Now help me out to the damn car. That vampire did a number on me.” 

(Y/N) wrapped an arm around Dean’s torso and wrapped Dean’s arm around the back of his neck. He began to lead him outside, allowing Dean to lean against him as they stumbled over the corpses on the way out. 

It was hard being an older brother, especially when you had two younger brothers who looked up to you. (Y/N) loved Crowley more than most things, but he loved his brothers the most. It was his job to protect them. He would go to the ends of the Earth for his brothers, hunt down anyone who hurt them, and even die for them. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for them. When he found happiness in Crowley, he didn’t want Sam and Dean to look at him as a failure. To hear that Sam and Dean had finally accepted their relationship made (Y/N)’s heart jump for joy. He had his brothers back, and he had his lover waiting for him. 

(Y/N) could confidently say that he was the happiest man on Earth. 

[mymreaderlibrary]

Back Into Trouble (Winchester!Reader x Winchester Bros PLATONIC)

A sequel to Brother Mine

This fic takes place somewhere near the end of season 1, after episode 19 but before episode 20. In addition, there's a song called Brother Mine that is really sweet and cute especially if put into this context of being Sam and Dean's, but especially Dean's, older brother. "I know that I sit and I worry too much/Especially when you come home such a sight/But I guess what you've got to do, boy, you go ahead and do it/And I sure hope things will be all right"

You may not have enjoyed returning to hunting, but you're damn good at it.

Although it's made even more frustrating when your father actually calls in.

You're not so thrilled about continuing on this... gallivanting cross-country, especially when John is chasing down the demon that killed your mother.

But Sam seems to have come to terms with it, though you honestly feel like that might have more to do with his desire to avenge Jess.

The real problem you see with your little brothers is their inability to let go.

You had all been raised by John in the hunting lifestyle, the family business.

But it's been decades since your mother's death. A horrible thing, that you have had to come to terms with having no real answers for.

And you can understand the desire for vengeance, for a clear-cut answer that will "solve everything."

It won't.

Something you've tried to get your brothers to think about is the future. About what they want out of their lives.

Because you remember how it was, living completely in the moment, day to day, hunt to hunt. And it was Bobby who pointed out that you had potential, that you deserved a life, if not now, then at least the promise of one.

So you convince them to take a rest in Massachusetts after leaving a hunt. Just to take a couple of days for hanging out.

Dean wants to see the Cheers bar and Sam wants to visit the Old North Church, so you get an actual hotel suite in Boston.

You check in with your colleagues and employees, apologizing for being incommunicado for so long. Thankfully the hotel has a business center with a fax machine you can sign invoices and contracts with.

Dean looks at you curiously. "So... you really did just... start a business?"

"Technically I bought it out from the owner who wanted to retire. So more... maintaining."

"You really are just... out of the life."

"I was, til you two called me."

"...sorry." Dean mumbles, and you grab his shoulder.

"Don't be. I was never doing this for Dad. I'm here for you and for Sammy."

Dean nods thoughtfully.

"You saw him. With that girl at the art gallery. He liked her. She liked him."

"Yeah."

"And you... with Cassie."

"Your point being?"

"Life keeps building off-ramps for you but you keep on truckin down this road."

Dean scowls. "Look, I'm not stupid. I know this life is dangerous. I know my days are probably numbered. But I'm making a difference. I'm saving people."

"What about you?"

He blinks. "What about me?"

"I'm done trying to force you out of the life, Dean. It's your choice. When we finally deal with all this shit - when the bastard that killed Mom is dead and you and Sam are finally free... I'm not gonna stop you if you go back to hunting."

"You're not?"

You nod. "But I'll be damned if I'm gonna lose contact with you again. I'll be there when you need a place to crash or a voice to call. Maybe you'll even visit me.

"Just... I need you to promise me you're not gonna run yourself into the ground. None of this has been your fault. It's not your fault about Mom, and it wasn't your fault I left, and it's not your fault that Dad couldn't really be a dad to us."

Dean wants to protest but you shush him. "You're gonna do what you do. And I'm gonna stop hunting again. For good this time. But when you decide it's time to come home... I hope you come to me, little brother."

You stand up then, leaving Dean to his thoughts. He's quiet for the rest of the day, but you feel an almost companionable nature to the silence.

And just maybe, after this all... maybe your brothers will follow you away from the things that go bump in the night.

[mymreaderlibrary]

Brother Mine (Winchester!Reader x Sam and Dean Winchester PLATONIC)

@xweirdo101x Hello, hope you are having a good day/nightI was wondering if I could request a Sam and Dean having an older brother (maybe by one or 2 years)  maybe they haven't seen reader in a couple years. The brother's finally get to see reader when he pulls them out of trouble?

(okay, author's note in that Sam is 22 at the start of the show and Dean is 26. The show spans the same amount of time as in the real world, technically, so Sam ends the show at 37 while Dean ends it at 41. Meaning this elder brother is probably 28 at the start and ends it 43. Good lord, that show went on for a while lol)

"So, explain to me why the two of you chuckleheads are in jail in freaking Kentucky? Because last I heard, Sam was going to college in California and you were still hunting boogeymen with Dad."

The two young men in front of you share a glance as you bail them out of some podunk town's drunk tank.

"Dad's... in trouble." Sam sighs, finally, to a harsh glare from Dean.

"Good riddance to bad assholes." you growl, and Dean clenches his fist

You and your little brothers don't exactly have a great relationship.

With the better part of seventeen years of your lives dedicated to hunting what lies in the darkness, spurred on by your domineering and obsessive father, Dean always has blamed you for "abandoning the family" and "breaking Dad's heart" because you left the life at nineteen and left seventeen year old Dean and thirteen year old Sam behind.

You did the amateur boxing circuit for a while before you were hired on to an indie security company and ended up catching the eye of the owner who trained you until you took over, eventually buying the company and running it.

You know a lot of your money was sent to help pay off any expenses Sam had, but you don't know if it was used for that or blown for motel stays or alcohol or sawed-off-shotguns or salt slugs for Dean and John.

You tried to stay in touch with Sam, but it was awkward. And he wanted space away from "family."

So you know neither of them would ever contact you unless something real bad happened (and apparently Dean's grudge was so strong that he wouldn't even inform you that John went missing)

Though to be perfectly honest, it wouldn't really matter to you anyway, and that's a matter to discuss with your therapist.

"I can't believe you called him." Dean grumbles, like a child.

"Sam apparently knew you'd need a responsible adult." you snark, and he grimaces. "Now, care to tell me why you're road-tripping?"

Sam looks at you. "My girlfriend. Jess. Whatever got Mom... it got her too."

"And you think that Dad is close to tracking it down and that's why he vanished." you sigh.

"Lemme guess, you're gonna tell us that there's nothing that goes bump in the night?" Dean sneers, looking at Sam.

"No, I'm not. I'm gonna tell you that it's not your job to chase it. It's not your duty."

"We save people. We hunt things. It's the family business." Dean growls.

"Jesus, Dean, do you hear how you sound?" you groan. "It's this kind of obsession that I tried to get away from! A terrible thing happened to Mom, and there was nothing any of us could do to stop it. It's not our fault, and it's not our responsibility to chase whatever did it down!"

"It's just gonna keep hurting people. We've seen it happening. It's gathering other people like Sam."

"Fuck." you growl.

Dean senses an in. "You were even better than me, back in the day. Remember when you ganked that skinchanger?"

He says "you were only 14" with as much reverence and awe as you do disgust and shame.

"I can't convince either of you to... let the chips fall where they may?"

"Nope." Dean pops the "p" sound.

"Sorry, no." Sam adds.

"I don't wanna kill things anymore, Dean. Not even bad things. But I do care about you both. So here. I'm going to help you, on one condition. We're going to all come back to my place in California, and Sam is going to apply to fucking law school, and you're gonna think about what you really want with your life, Dean."

They think.

They look at each other.

They nod.

"Welcome back." Dean grins.

"You better not still drive that shitty Impala and listen to crappy 80s rock."

Sam winces.

[mymreaderlibrary]

| mdni 18+

| SUPERNATURAL headcanons

please give requests.

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

RATED: NSFW

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STATUS: You're already in a relationship.

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Request: none, I wrote it myself on February 23rd.

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Dean:

1 - He might not admit it, but god does he love being bent over;

2 - He is SO FUCKING LOUD. When he's on top, he mostly groans, occasionally moans, but when he's on bottom,, the whimpers, whines and moans that escape his mouth is unbelievable;

3 - Praise him and he's on his knees for you;

4 - If you EVER put on a cowboy costume and you have the cowboy boots on... he's hot and bothered the moment he lays his eyes on you;

5 - LOVES pulling on your hair during intercourse;

6 - If the two of you are having sex and he's overwhelmed, he'll grab a pillow to hold onto or grip the sheets;

7 - You two have fucked in the back of Baby.. per Dean's request.. (surprisingly.);

8 - Once, in the heat of the moment, you started facefucking Dean while he was giving you a blowjob and ever since that happened, it's been his favourite thing about sex;

9 - You manhandling him is his guilty pleasure;

10 - At the start of the relationship, Dean believed that it would kind of be a switch-switch situation during sex. When you fucked for the first time, Dean was riding you and his legs started shaking. At that moment, he was thinking about getting off of you, but when you grabbed his hips and made him ride you up until the end, he gave up on that thought.

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

Sam:

1 - He is not loud at all. Sure, a couple moans here and there but it's mostly just heavy breathing or grunts. Unless he's overstimulated;

2 - Whenever he's horny, he won't make it clear to you. He just gets all grumpy and grouchy;

3 - Unlike Dean, when he's overwhelmed, he'll hold onto you. And he'll scratch the living hell out of your back;

4 - If you mess with his hair during sex, so much as pull on it, he will moan;

5 - Once, when Sam got back from a hunt with an unconscious Dean, you scolded him and he got hard. (involuntarily);

6 - Sam insisted on trying mirror sex - lo and behold, he had his face buried in the sheets for the majority of it (when you didn't hold his head up). Why? He was embarrassed;

7 - During a hunt, Sam got really grumpy. You had to do something about it because Dean's taunting demeanour would set him off immediately, so you just dragged Sam into the bathroom, when Dean was out, for a quickie. It worked wonders;

8 - You had a habit of not caring about shortness of breath when kissing, so when you first made out with Sam, he thought he was gonna pass out. (He was overreacting, he was nowhere close to passing out);

9 - He LOVES it when you're bold and straightforward, it turns him on so much;

10 - His whole body starts shaking due to pleasure if you focus on his chest and neck too much.

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

Castiel:

1 - If he's in the mood for it, he won't tell you. He will just stare at you until you figure it out yourself;

2 - If there is a moment when Castiel doesn't put his hands on your chest or stare at it, consider it a miracle;

3 - He cannot comprehend why he can't form coherent sentences during intercourse. He says "it must be some kind of curse". In reality, he's just too into it to care enough about speaking properly, but he does not realize it;

4 - Castiel does not realize how much you being rough with him turns him on. Degrade him for a couple seconds and he's hard;

5 - During sex, he holds onto you so tightly with his hands that a lot of the time, they leave bruises. Once, he noticed them and asked what happened. When you told him that they were from him, he just looked at you confused and said: "I never hit you?";

6 - Even though you being rough riles him up a lot, he prefers soft and gentle sex.

7 - When the four of you, you, Sam, Dean and Castiel were riding in Baby (you and Cas in the back seat), you decided to just lay your head in Castiel's lap and get comfortable. He was your boyfriend after all. It was fine at first, you even closed your eyes. Then suddenly, Castiel pushed you off. You sat up looking at him puzzled. He just gave you glare as he looked out of the window and covered his crotch. (Inconvenient places to get hard #2);

8 - He knows how mad it drives you when he gives you that soft innocent look during sex, it just makes you want to go rougher on him;

9 - He once asked you to 'rail him' without knowing what it meant. When you explained it to him, he replied with "oh, okay. So will you?";

10 - He finds your hands (minus your chest) the most attractive thing in the world. He WILL stare at your hands during intercourse because he wants them on him 24/7.

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

A/n: if you want any of these headcanons to be made into a oneshot, please let me know. <3

[mymreaderlibrary]

| mndi 18+

| What a perv.

please give requests.

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

Pairing: Top!dom!AMAB!reader x bottom!sub!Dean Winchester.

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Genre: smut.

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Word count: 2,357

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Warning(s): slight feminisation, use of pet names, reader being a cocky asshole (just a lil bit), unprotected sex, reader has clothes on/character does not, bratty Dean >:)

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

Request: "can i req perv dean winchester x top male reader? possibly where dean’s jerking off to something that correlates to the reader (like a picture/boxers/whatever works really), but ends up getting caught? he’d usually use his glib tongue to get away, but poor princess is so embarrassed he’s caught jerking off to a guy."

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A/n: i think about dean a lot, putting my headcanons to use here. i need him so badly,,

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

You had just gotten back from a grocery trip, putting the bags on the kitchen table. “Fuckin' hell, it's quiet.” You murmured to yourself, your hands on your hips.

Sam was out. Somewhere. Said he had business to attend to. He took Cas with him, so the only one that should be home right now was Dean. At first you thought you'd come home to Dean sitting in the kitchen and drinking, or simply watching the TV.

Neither of those were the case. You slowly walked to Dean's room, thinking to yourself. Just as you reached the door to his bedroom, you opened it immediately, figuring it'd be pointless to knock at this point.

“Dean, will y- woah—” you were in the doorway, standing still, your hand on the door handle.

Dean scrambled to sit up, getting a blanket to cover himself up. “What the hell! Knock, you moron!” He yelled at you, his facial expression clearly offended. Dean swallowed hard, eyebrows furrowed.

“Jesus Christ, okay, sorry-” you thought it was funny, how you caught him jerking off. You had a grin on your face, taking in the surroundings for a little while as you took a small step back, planning to close the door and leave Dean alone. Your smile dropped in a matter of seconds when you noticed your shirt — your dirty, bloody shirt that was supposed to be in the laundry,, in the grasp of Dean's hand.

“S'that..” you inquired slowly, squinting your eyes. “Is that my shirt?” You tilted your head to the side, your shoulders slumping. Why would Dean have your shirt in the first place?

“wh—” he looked down at his hand, practically baffled. Once Dean realized you had seen the piece of clothing, his grip tightened. “What? N— no, no that's mine.” He tried hiding it behind his back slowly.

“Dean, that's my shirt.” You pointed out, your facial expression going blank. “Were you-” you paused mid sentence, trying to take in the new information. “Were you jerking off to me?” Your tone had gotten a tad bit more serious.

“Huh?” He turned his head to look at you, wondering if he heard your question right. “No! No way! What in the world are you talking about?” His tone was defensive as he sat up more straight.

“Wait, scratch that. You were jerking off to a guy?” The look on your face was priceless, absolutely stunned. You knew you caught him, he was in a pinch. He wouldn't get out of this easily. “Since when are you so accepting of your attraction to men?”

“Hold on, does that mean you find me attractive? Am I attractive to you, Dean?” You fixed up your shirt, trying your best to look presentable. “Am I hot enough to get you off? Hm?” That same grin crept back on your face. Being friends with Dean was one thing, annoying and teasing the absolute shit out of him was another. You loved every minute of it.

Dean's gaze shifted to the floor, the feeling of heat cursing through him. Was he getting embarrassed? No, he had to come up with something to derail this conversation.

“You're being fucking ridiculous, [Name], get the hell out.” Dean made eye contact with you, trying to keep his poker face up.

“Awh, is my poor princess embarrassed to be caught jerking off to a guy?” You cooed, walking into the room and closing the door behind you. “You know damn well that it is my shirt.” You spoke, making your way towards Dean. Before the other could respond, you reached around and snatched the shirt.

You held it up, taking a proper look. “Yep,” You nodded with an affirming tone. “It is, in fact, my shirt.” Dean looked away from you, eyebrows furrowed as he huffed, clearly annoyed or even embarrassed. “Fuck off, out of my room, now.” He commanded, his voice ever-so slightly shaky.

“Ay, what the hell? I caught you jerking off to me, and now you're trynna kick me out?” You tilted your head to the side, throwing the shirt onto the ground. “Come on, I gotta know if you're in love with me or not,” you pushed further, your tone firm.

Dean scoffed as he laid back down with a small thud, the blanket still covering his lower half. He brought his arm up to his face, covering his eyes. “No. M'not. Get out,” Even though Dean denied it, his tone didn't seem that confident or convincing.

“You want me to get out and leave my shirt so you can continue jerking off to me? Orrr,, perhaps, there's a chance you want me to stay and get the real deal?” You didn't give it up, how could you? Dean Winchester, an absolute ladies man, trying to get off to his friend, a guy.

“What are you talking about??” He asked in an almost offended tone, taking his arm off of his face to look at you.

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

Deep breaths and groans filled the silent room, your hands gripping his firm thighs as you slowly pushed your cock in. Both of Dean's legs were over your shoulders. “Shit.. t'feels weird,” He breathed out, his left hand resting atop of yours, right hand freely on the bed itself.

“Yeah, well, now you know how a woman feels when you fuck her ass.” You said in a taunting tone, not taking your eyes away from your lower half. The sight of your cock slowly disappearing in his entrance - god.

Dean muttered something out that was followed by a grunt, his hand gripping the sheets underneath the two of you a little. “Jesus Chr— ist..” His voice faltered mid-word, eyelids fluttering shut. “Relax, Dean, relax. You're doin' good,” You encouraged him in a gentle manner, rubbing circles on his thighs with your thumbs to soothe him - calm him down.

“I am- relaxed.” He grumbled out, letting out a small wince. “Wouldn't say it feels like that,” You leaned down a bit, pushing on Dean's legs. Soon enough, you fully bottomed out. “Need a moment?” You asked, eyes flickering all over Dean's torso. “You take me for a wimp?” He said breathily, opening his eyes to make eye contact with you.

Once you looked into Dean's eyes, you got so lost. He looked breathtaking like this, the look in his eyes - full of lust, neediness and want, the glossiness of them. His slightly furrowed eyebrows, clenched jaw, his hand on yours,, the hand gripping the sheets.. so perfect. All of him was perfect. “Fuckin' hell..” You muttered out, moving your left hand to Dean's cock, very slowly jerking him off.

“Mff-..mm.” Soft noises escaped his mouth, followed by a sigh of content. Your touch stimulated him to no end. “You never got to cum, right? I interrupted you,” You spoke in a delighted tone, a smirk plastered on your face. “Why don't we finish off what you started, huh?” Your hand's pace had quickened with your sentence as Dean tilted his head back, his blinking getting more frequent and excessive.

“Fuckkkk..” He said, his voice quiet and low. His breath hitched in his throat for a short moment as you started slowly thrusting in and out. Agonizingly slowly. “Did you grab my shirt from the laundry?” You questioned suddenly, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes. “Cause it was dirty, you know, I'm curious.” You added, a grin flashing across your face.

“Mmh— nhgggh!—” Dean breathed out simple whines and whimpers. You were not sure if he even heard you, your thrusting getting more rhythmic and deeper. It was all new to the other - he'd usually do the fucking. “Hey Dean-oooo, I asked you a question baby,” You cooed, thumb rubbing over the slit of his dick, putting pressure on it. “Son of a bitch— shit!” He pressed his head back into the pillow, hand gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white. Dean had a hard time not squeezing your hand as well.

You moved your hand, intertwining your fingers together as you pushed his arm, making his forearm rest beside his head, pressing his hand into the mattress a bit as you propped yourself up. “Breathe Dean, jeez,” You said with a small breathless scoff, your other hand pumping his cock continuously. “Sh— shut up,, I hate y..you, hhgg!-” Dean managed to speak, his sentence truly holding no malice or hostility behind his tone of voice, moving his head to the side and letting out a hiss at the feeling of your cock inside him. “Do you?” The grin never left your face. “Not only did I catch you jerking off to me, or my clothes rather, but you're letting me fuck you as well. That speaks volumes to me baby,” You shifted on your knees, finding a completely new angle. You pushed in, reaching deep. With that, Dean choked out a gasp, his eyes shooting open as he arched his back off of the bed slightly.

Almost immediately Dean let go of the sheets, bringing his hand to his mouth, covering it. He let out a couple muffled moans, really starting to sweat. Your thrusting pace quickened. It was harsh and deep. “You feelin' shy? We're alone, no one's gonna hear you, Dean.” You mumbled, looking down at your hand jerking him off. His cock twitched, leaking precum. You let out a groan at the feeling of Dean clenching around you.

At this point Dean was seeing stars behind his eyes, the feeling was entirely new to him yet it felt so good. Too good, maybe. He whimpered against his hand, his thighs tensing as they shuddered. You clicked your tongue in annoyance, not exactly directed towards him. You removed your hand from his cock and grasped his wrist, removing his own hand from his mouth so he wouldn't muffle his moans anymore. You pinned it next to his head on the mattress, almost the same as his other hand.

Of course Dean tried resisting being pinned, but you did all of that while fucking him mercilessly and relentlessly. “oh- ah! fucckk—” He bit down on his bottom lip to try and suppress his moaning. You suddenly hit his prostate with a harsh thrust, earning a loud whine from Dean, his one hand clenching into a fist, the other squeezing yours. “Nnh! Shit! Yes yes yes, just like that-” he rambled out, his chest rising and falling with each breath that he took, his lips parted.

His legs started trembling over your shoulders, toes curling. You let a soft groan leave your lips, leaning your body down again, Dean's knees inches away from his chest. He seemed more flexible than you thought. “Yeah? Feels good, doesn't it?” You said in a confident tone, letting out a soft sigh of content, your thrusts ever so slightly losing rhythm.

“Ghhh— pleaseee, pleasepleaseplease,” He whined, his muscles tensed visibly as his body spasmed, shaking his head. You abused his prostate, most likely bruised it as well. Dean squirmed underneath you, his arms aching - couldn't put his hands where he wanted with you pinning him to the bed. His cock throbbed as it was lightly pressed between the both of your abdomens. “w- I'm close! shit! i'm so close!-”

“Go on, cum for me, you've been so good,” You praised him in a softer voice, trying to keep up the same fast pace just to push Dean over the edge. His eyes shut tight, pushing his arms up in an attempt to free himself. As you noticed this, you let go of both of his hands and he almost instinctively wrapped them around your neck, pulling you in as close as possible. Without any further warning, Dean came, making a mess on his own stomach. He choked out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, panting afterwards, eyebrows only stitching together further.

“There we go, good boy,” You murmured, gasping softly as Dean's walls tightened around you. He was starting to get a bit overstimulated with the way you continued pounding into him after he came. One hand of Dean's gripped your shirt, the other holding onto the back of your neck. You felt your own climax nearing.

“Mmhhh,” You hummed out, placing open-mouthed kisses on Dean's neck as a way to distract yourself a little. You ended up only chasing your own orgasm, your cock twitching inside Dean's hole. He shuddered, fingers tangling in your hair, slightly pulling on the locks. “There- there, right there-” Dean moaned out, his voice hoarse and raspy, trying to ride down his own orgasm.

Your hips stuttered, slowly breaking the pace. You were close, almost ready to pull out. Dean felt slight emptiness near his prostate due to you not pushing back in and he whined. “N— no, no, inside, come inside.” Dean rasped out, holding you close to him. You raised an eyebrow at this, nonetheless complying with the other's request. “Fuck Dean, you're kinky,” you joked, pushing your cock all the way in.

His legs continued to shake, burying his head in the crook of your neck. “g-god,” Dean managed to speak through the string of moans and whimpers he let out. With one harsh final thrust and a groan, you came inside Dean, the warm liquid pooling inside him. He let out a shaky sigh, his grip on you loosening. You dropped your head down and leaned your forehead on Dean's shoulder, relaxing. “This fulfilled your expectations of me?” you asked, clearly out of breath. “Or do you wanna go again?” You whispered, your hands moving to remove Dean's legs from your shoulders, lowering them and making them wrap around your waist.

Dean paused as you lifted your head back up again, looking down at him. He made eye contact with you, his eyes ever so slightly teary. “You think you got enough stamina for another round?” He mocked you, his panting very audible, voice quieter than usual. “You're a little shit,” You chuckled, shifting your position to a sitting one. “You're getting what you asked for,” with a tight grip on his hips, you started moving again.