#Dean would simply pass away

[runraerun]

Jack: Dean hates me:(

Sam: he doesn’t hate you, he’s just scared. Hey maybe you could try taking an interest in the things Dean likes?

Jack: okay, I can do that!

Sam: 👍🙂👍

Jack: 👍🙂👍

Jack 10 minutes later:

[darkshrimpemotions]

Oh, no one ever gave you a vibe that you were an unwelcome hetero in queer spaces, Dean? I wonder. Why that is. What could it be.

[michaelmilligan]

SEND THE DAMN 'I LOVE YOU', DEAN!!!

[marvelsswansong]

show and tell

summary: a white rose at the train station. his hand in yours at the zoo. his mother's golden mirror. does he love you or is he simply trying to gain the public's favour and secure the Plith prize? you're unsure. and so is he, until he very much isn't.

tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, slow burn (ish), fluff, angst, technically a happy ending but quite dark, purely based off the movie but I take some creative detours, CW for violence, mentions of starvation, toxic/manipulative behaviors and a semi-dark!snow (please read at your own discretion, take care of yourself above all else :))

☆ word count: 5.6K+ words ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Coriolanus hates waiting. 

The stillness, the eerie silence of an early morning at the Capitol train station. It eats away at his core.

His mouth tastes like copper, his throat's starting to itch from the dryness and there's a brief moment of fear as he ponders if he's making a huge mistake. A sharp whistle ringing through the station signals the train's arrival, and as his eyes adjust to the billowing grey smoke and a sea of white (the peace keepers), the flower in his left hand suddenly feels heavy. As if the weight of the situation is starting to bear on his shoulders.

He wasn't supposed to be here. If all had gone to plan, he would've already been the recipient of the Plinth Prize and taken the first car back home to buy his grandma'am some chocolates and Tigris a new dress. No more worrying. No more surviving on dwindled fortunes. No more pretending to fit in with high society. 

Then, of course, the rules had to change. Viewership was down and it was of both Dean Highbottom's and Dr Gaul's opinion that what was missing was spectacle. Now, whoever the best mentor was in transforming their tribute into prime entertainment would win the prize. 

"Your role is to turn these tributes into spectacles. Not survivors." 

The silence that hung after this announcement in the Academy was heavy, but Coriolanus knew better than to show his true emotions on his face. After all, if there was one thing that he knew how to do as the star student of the Academy: it was to plan. And when he saw your... unruly introduction to the public, sneaking a snake down a woman's dress before cussing out the audience, it dawned on him that it would be a tall order to endear you to the public.

But not impossible.

The sounds of the tributes being roughly unloaded off the platform snaps him back into reality, his eyes easily landing on your figure as you jump off the train, your upper arms supported by the tribute (Jessup, Coriolanus recalls his name being) standing next to you. Pushing through the soldiers, the blonde nearly breaks into a small sprint to catch up to you as you turn your head upon hearing the sound of hurried footsteps.

"Welcome to the Capitol." the strange man in front of you says, before holding out a pristine white rose. It's a peculiar looking flower, you think, a kind of flower you've never seen before (at least, certainly not back in your home district). It looks almost artificial, you think, with how perfectly white and untouched its petals are.

The blonde assesses your cautious glance - the sunlight hitting the under color of your irises perfectly in a glistening twilight - and a fleeting thought passes by, that the tv camera didn't do your natural beauty justice. He has to suppress a smirk when you finally respond, narrowing your eyes at him with your arms crossing above your chest.

"You seem like you shouldn't be here."

He chuckles at that.

"I'm not supposed to be. And yet here I am." A pause. "But I'm your mentor. Coriolanus Snow."

That's a first, you think. Mentors for tributes. 

"And what does my mentor do except bring me roses?" you question, flicking the buds with your fingers. Coriolanus just smiles. 

"I do my best to take care of you." 

Your supposed mentor says it so sincerely, you think, and he's obviously charming with his devilishly handsome looks and low whisper. But there's something that stops you from holding out your hand and taking the rose from his fingers. You suppose he isn't lying - after all, what would be the point of it - but there's something in his eyes that you can't quite explain. 

Something that makes your stomach flutter in both excitement and dread.

"Move." the soldier behind you then barks, shoving you and Jessup forward. You decide to give your mentor one last grin and a quiet "see you later", thinking that's going to be the last you see of him for a while.

The last thing you expect is for him to jump into the back of the vehicle alongside the other tributes, drawing the eyre of a few who pin him against the moving vehicle and start taunting him with violence. 

"You look rather out of place." the tall boy pinning Coriolanus drawls.

"I'm not, I can assure you. I'm here for (Y/n). I'm her mentor." 

That puts the unwanted attention on you, as the other tributes begin to circle around you with sinister expressions twisting on their lips.

"Mentor, huh? How come little miss music gets one but not the rest of us?" a brunette girl drawls, eyeing you up and down.

The boy pinning Coriolanus down applies stronger pressure to his neck, and you rise in an attempt to intervene, but he meets your gaze discreetly and motions for you to remain seated. 

"You all have a mentor, they're just... not here." he croaks. 

"Right, and we're all supposed to believe you?" another girl, this one from district 4 you believe, taunts. "What's to say we shouldn't just kill you now?" 

The blonde shoots you a nervous look and that's when you feel pity. Just like you, he's in a foreign environment and pretending to be brave. You suppose also that he's your only ticket out, your only chance of potential success at surviving in the games.

So you intervene.

"You could kill him. But then the moment this truck stops you'll all be gathered round and killed by the peace keepers. He's clearly Capitol. And if they're willing to hang District people simply for stealing, can't imagine what killing a member of the Capitol would mean for punishment." 

That scares them off and Coriolanus sits down next to you, breathing heavily in an effort to catch his breath, before quietly thanking you.

"You really wanna thank me?" you quirk, leaning over to whisper in his ear. "Start by thinking about how I can actually win." 

The truck then suddenly comes to a halt, and the next thing you know the truck is being tipped over and the doors fly open. Coriolanus grasps your arm in lightning speed, pulling you close towards him so that he'd hit the harsh ground first, absorbing most of the impact.

When you shakily stand up on your feet, you realize you're enclosed in a large metal cage akin to that of an animal enclosure. There's even an over enthusiastic TV presenter in the background, who now seems to have noticed your mentor and begins to call out to him.

"Where are we?" you breathe out, already shivering from the autumn cold.

The blonde barely shifts, only dusting off his suit in a calm manner.

"(Y/n) (L/n) from District 12, welcome to the Capitol Zoo. Would you like to meet my neighbors?" he jokes, eyes slyly shifting to the right to refer to the small audience that has now gathered around the TV presenter. 

You hesitate, but then he takes your right hand in his before leaning over to whisper in your ear.

"You want to win, right? Good. I'd like to win as well. And the first thing you'll need to do? Perform for the cameras." Coriolanus accentuates the end of his sentence by sliding the rose behind your ear, a gesture which draws an excited reaction from the crowd.

Is your mentor doing it for the cameras or for something else? You're unsure. But given your desperation to win, and the fact that he clearly knows more about the games than you do, you decide to play along.

Warm hands twisting in the cold, Coriolanus drags your enjoined hands towards the TV camera as he does what he does best. Lie, smile, and charm the audience. Even when the attention turns to you, as Lucky Flickerman (that's his name, you learn) directs questions towards you, the blonde never lets go of your hand in his.

Before he leaves, as news of his rule-breaking spreads amongst the members of the public, you grab him out of desperation one last time.

"Please get us some food, we've been starving since the Reaping."

The blonde nods, but you can't help but feel anxious: not knowing if his previous gestures of kindness were just for show. 

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

"Who's that for?"

Coriolanus had meant to sneak the sandwiches and cookies into his spare napkin discreetly, but of course Clemensia had to be two steps behind him, interrogating his every move. 

"Just not very hungry, that's all." he nearly grits through his teeth, forcing a fake smile.

The dark haired girl chuckles at that, shaking her head sideways.

"You don't have to lie to me, Snow. Especially me."

"... It's for (Y/n)." he quietly admits. She hums at that, picking at her own food from across the table.

"That's awfully nice of you. What, already going soft for some girl you met yesterday?" she teases, and it immediately elicits an angry refusal out of him.

"It's not like that." Coriolanus snaps, his sudden harshness making his classmate flinch in surprise. "I just... can't have her dying before the games even begin because she's not as well fed as the others." 

Clemensia scoffs, flicking the rest of her orange peel into the trash.

"Honestly, Snow, I don't know why you bother. She's clearly not going to survive. I mean, have you seen the tributes from districts 1 and 3?"

Ignoring her comments, he wordlessly slips away from the table and hails a ride down to the zoo. News of his intentions travels fast and whilst he doesn't mind Sejanus' company, it takes intense effort to force himself to look away from Arachne when she tags along and decides to taunt a caged tribute with a glass bottle. 

"You came back." you mutter, staring at the neatly wrapped napkin in disbelief. Coriolanus dislikes how surprised you sound, then hates himself more for caring about what you think. 

Why do you care what she thinks? he scolds himself. She's just a tribute you're mentoring.

"Of course I did. Can't have my tribute dying before the games even begin, now can I?" he teases, feigning nonchalant. 

The presence of academy mentors seems to have attracted a crowd, with a few photographers even pointing their lenses towards you and Coriolanus as his hand slips through the metal gates to meet yours to hand off the food. When your fingers touch his, a part of you wonders if he would've ever came back if there was no PR involved.

Too grateful and too hungry to care, you just say thank you, before breaking off a piece for Jessup and offering half a sandwich to your mentor.

"Oh no, I'm not hungry." he says out of instinct, surprised by your offering. You raise your eyebrows in response, pursing your lips.

"You sure about that? Because I could hear your stomach growl from a mile away." you retort. 

"Right. Uh, thank you." 

Biting into the soft bread, you chew, savoring every bite. A silence settles between the two of you as you both eat, right before you ask him a quiet question.

"... Did you get into a lot of trouble for what you did for me yesterday?" your eyes shine with worry, you nervously looking up at him for an answer. He finds himself again surprised by how much you seem to care. 

Yes, he wants to say. I nearly got myself disqualified as a mentor and it would've been the end of my family's future in the Capitol. But he swallows his thoughts down, alongside the dry taste of the tuna sandwich.

"Not much. Actually, I was able to convince the gamemaster, Dr Gaul, to implement a few changes to the games."

"Really, like what?"

"To let the public send you donations. That way, I could send you supplies you needed into the arena - food, water, medicine. It'd mean having to do the extra job of playing to the public and getting them to root for your survival, but with a voice like yours, the songbird of Panem -"

Your smile drops at that, your gaze turning stern at his suggestion.

"I only sing when I please for an audience I choose." your eyebrows furrow, your usually sweet expression melting into something more sour. It's oddly cute, he thinks. 

"I know, but I'm really going to need you to try. It's for your own survival. Our survival." he emphasizes, staring right into your eyes. You can't suppress your sad smile at that, crumbling the empty napkin in your hands.

"Are you sure it's not just for your survival?"

Your question haunts Coriolanus that night, alongside the sounds of broken glass and pained gasps as Arachne lies bleeding on the ground, having been stabbed in the neck by one of the tributes. When he quickly runs to his classmate, he doesn't get to see your expression, as you're ripped away by Jessup pulling you into safety in an instant and peace keepers swarm the scene in an effort to remain calm.

When he's back home and the crimson blood coating his hands have dried from where he was holding his dying classmate's wounds, he wonders if there's any truth to your answer.

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

Everything changes at the arena tour.

You've not had much sleep. You're confused, you're angry, but most of all you've been haunted by your conflicting feelings towards your mentor and the name he'd called you - songbird. A silly little songbird, you think spitefully. 

To sing and charm the very same public who had doomed her to a violent game of death. 

It was absurd, really, that he'd even ask that. It made your stomach churn and your head ache at the thought of cheapening your craft for something so juvenile.

And yet, when you spot the familiar red suit and white blonde hair in the mass of other mentors at the arena, you can't help but feel warmth in your chest and stomach. A part of you even feels lucky, given that the other mentors seem to waste their time insulting their tributes or being too afraid to talk to them. Whilst Coriolanus, on the other hand, seems to be full of ideas to ensure your survival.

"The game master liked my suggestions. So the donations system is going to be implemented, with a broadcast beforehand for the tributes to get a chance to endear themselves to the public for donations." He's speaking so fast that you almost think he enjoys explaining the games to you. "Now what this means is that assuming you get enough donations, when the bell goes off, you don't go for the weapons. You don't fight. You just run as fast as you can, hide and stay alive for as long as you can." 

"How can you even be sure I'll get enough donations for you to be able to send supplies?" you mutter, looking around at the other tributes. "A lot of these folks are a lot taller and stronger than I am. They've got a much better chance at surviving than I do."  

Coriolanus surprises you by taking both of your hands in his, squeezing your palms tight in his cold palms.

"I know, but we have something none of the others have."

You scrunch your face in confusion.

"What's that?"

"A story. A strong connection between you and me, a Capitol mentor and a District 12 tribute. Not to mention, your incredible singing and songwriting. Match that with my knack for public relations and we'll have enough donations to send you any supplies necessary for your victory in the games."

You realize then that Coriolanus is unlike anyone else you've ever met. So confident, so sure, so perceptive of other people and their secret desires and pitfalls. His unwavering commitment to his beliefs is admirable, if not almost foolish, but you keep that part to yourself.

"How're you so sure I'll even survive the first few minutes?" you push back, still unconvinced, though you don't pull away from his hold. "And, again, I don't just sing for anyone."

The blonde opens his mouth to respond, but he's interrupted when a sudden cascade of dust and fire crumbles down from the ceiling of the arena. The sound of a bomb exploding reverberates as you're both thrown off of your feet by the impact. Your head is still ringing from the chaos when Jessup pulls at your sleeves, commanding you to walk away from the wreckage. 

Rising onto shaky legs, you even spot another tribute running from the guards towards a blown out hole on the side of the building. And when your eyes meet with Coriolanus' frantic ones, his lower half trapped underneath rubble, you both recognize that you now have an unbridled chance to escape - 

But you don't.

To the blonde's complete shock, you instead shove your friend off, screaming as you lift the heavy cement column with all your strength in an effort to pry the debris off of his body. With the help of a few peace keepers, it works, but Coriolanus falls into unconsciousness quickly as he succumbs to the excruciating pain of crushed ribs and bruised limbs.

The last thing he sees before he fades into darkness is your teary eyes, a sight he so badly wants to fix by wiping away your tears with his fingers... 

When he eventually wakes, it's in a dark hospital next to his grandma'am and sister. There's a roar on the television screen as you're brought onto the broadcast, shy smile and a glittering guitar in hand. It hits him that you're actually going to sing. 

"I didn't have a chance to... uh... write a new song. But I'd like to dedicate this performance to someone very special who's recently been hurt." you say into the mike, your eyes clearly brimming with nerves and doubt. 

As you sing, there's a tight sensation in Coriolanus' chest once the lyrics settle into his mind - a small voice whispers in his mind that it's jealousy, for you singing about a boy back in your home town who broke your heart - but it's overwhelmed by the feelings of gratitude and awe that you'd ended up doing what he asked you to do. All that, after selflessly saving his life.

"A...are you okay, Coryo?" is all Tigris asks, brushing his hair back and gently guiding him back down onto bed upon seeing his expression twist into one of discomfort.

"She could've run." 

"What?"

"At the arena. The blast blew open a large opening on the side of the stadium. I saw one of the tributes actually make it out that way." he lets out a shaky breath, hating you for what you've done to him to make him feel this way. "Damn it, Tigris. She could've run. She could've-"

A single tear drops from his left eye and onto his injured palm, his weak voice giving away his true emotions.

"She could've saved herself from even having to participate in the games. But she stayed. She fucking stayed behind to lift the debris off of me."

"She saved your life." his sister finishes for him, the atmosphere turning somber as she wraps her arms around his shoulder. "I'm just so glad that you're both safe." 

As you retreat from the screen, the donation numbers only piling up higher as Lucky Flickerman closes out the broadcast, a hot fire lights up in Coriolanus' stomach. 

He has to save you.

No matter what it takes.

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

"You know he's just using you, right?"

After the broadcast, once it's revealed that you were given the largest amount of donations out of all the other tributes, Coral from District 4 corners you backstage. 

"Pardon?" you fake ignorance, a small smile playing on your lips, which only seems to aggravate the girl further. 

"Your pretty boy mentor. He's only been faking all sweet for you to get the public to send you donations. In fact, I bet he didn't even bother to try and pull himself out of the wreckage so that he could get more public sympathy.

You snap at that, all fake modesty melting away in an instant.

"You have no idea what the fuck you're talking about, Coral. Coriolanus isn't like that." you spit, but all she does is look down at you with a nasty smirk on her lips.

"Oh really? And how would you know, little songbird? Think he'd care about someone from district 12? And why do you think he wants you to win so badly? Because he's a good person?" she mocks, her face now a mere inches away from yours. "No. I reckon it's more for the prize money." 

You can't sleep that night at the zoo, tossing and turning in the dark. Your mind can't seem to rest, torn between the adrenaline and dread for the games tomorrow, alongside the constant worry over Coriolanus' wellbeing and doubts over his genuinity and trustworthiness.

Coral's just trying to get in my head. you repeat to yourself, over and over again. You're on the edge of sleep, exhausted and upset by your conflicting emotions, when you hear a familiar voice coming from the darkness. 

It sounds like Coriolanus. 

You sit up straight, and it's true: he's here, and he's whispering your name repeatedly, beckoning you towards the front of the cage and away from your sleeping competitors. Suddenly, the overwhelming exhaustion and fatigue disappears, and you find yourself gravitating towards the only person you've been thinking about for the past 24 hours.

"Coryo, you're... you're alright." you sigh out, almost overwhelmed with relief. You don't even realize you're crying until his hands reach up and brush away your tears, his warm hand a stark contrast to the freezing cold of the night.

"I am. All thanks to you, songbird." he breathes out, his fingers tracing the ripples of your cheeks. His head feels dizzy and his hands tremble as he searches his pockets for his mother's golden compact mirror. 

"Don't call me that." you weakly laugh, as he does too. "What's this?" you ask, staring at the object he’s folded gently into your hands. 

"It's for you to use in the arena. Now listen to what I say very carefully. Don't breathe this in, don't spill it on yourself, and only use it when you really need to." he slowly explains, as if he's terrified that you're going to harm yourself by merely carrying it in your pockets. 

"Is... is this allowed? For you to sneak in and give me this?" you whisper, looking around your surroundings, but it's pitch black. 

The blonde purses his lips, using every muscle in his body to keep his expression neutral.

No, it's certainly not allowed. I am risking my life, as well as my family's future, by doing this.

"That's not important. What is important is that the blast from the arena has created a hole leading out to a bunch of service tunnels. I tested it out myself, it leads towards the outside, far away from the peace keepers." 

"Wait, I don't understa-"

Desperation grabs a hold of him, and it's a foreign feeling - the crushing despair of wanting to protect someone that he can't, the burning urge to want to put someone else ahead of him for once.

"What I need you to do tomorrow, (Y/n), is to run. The moment the alarm rings, don't even think of running towards the weapons or fighting the others. Don't even hide anymore. Just… just run towards the tunnels, by yourself, and get out."

"But what about Jessup-" you hiccup. Your head's spinning, confused and horrified by your mentor's change of plans and the prospect of leaving behind your friend to die in the arena. 

"Forget about him." Coriolanus snaps. Suddenly, his eyes are cold and his voice is firm, commanding you as if you have no choice in the matter. "In there, he's as dangerous as the other tributes. You can't trust anyone, not even your supposed friends, okay? The games, they-" he chokes on his own words, and there's something again in Coriolanus' eyes that you can't quite decipher. "They bring out the worst in people. Promise me you'll run."

It makes your stomach twist in anxiety.

"I-"

"Please." 

As he begs, his face crumbles, his voice so desperate and feeble that you can't find it in yourself to say no. 

"I... I'll try." you relent, and he lets out a sigh of relief at your agreement. 

"Good. Perfect." He takes your head in his hands and softly kisses your temple. "I won't let you die in there, okay? Just like you took care of me after the explosion. I'm going to take care of you."

"I'm your mentor. I do my best to take care of you." 

Coriolanus' words from the train station echo in your head as you nod, pocketing the mirror deep inside your dress to hide it away from plain sight.

"Will I... will I be able to see you, after the games?" 

You immediately feel stupid for even asking that. Everyone knows winning the games merely allows your return to your home district. And on all logical accounts, it wouldn't make any sense for the man to give up his life in the Capitol to follow you back to 12.

But he smiles at your innocent question, only nodding whilst squeezing your hands in the dark. To your feeble heart and mind, it feels like a genuine promise.

"Of course, my songbird. I'll do whatever it takes."

"Don't make promises you can't keep." you whisper.

"I never do." 

And for the first time, you think you actually believe him wholeheartedly.

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

You can't believe it. 

You've won.

You were so sure you were going to die once the snakes had been released, eyes closing shut once the venomous snakes began to crawl up your skin, but as you continued to sing... The reptiles simply slithered by your side, remaining docile and non-threatening. And based on the snakes' sudden change of behavior and Highbottom's scowl when he announced you as the victor of the 10th Hunger Games - "consider yourself lucky, little girl, as it seems your mentor was willing to break more than a few rules for you" - your stomach churns at the realization that Coriolanus kept his promise.

He did whatever it took to get you out. 

Even cheating. 

You've only heard whispers of the punishments for cheating at the Capitol. But based on the frequent hangings of rebels in your home district, you can't imagine that the punishment would be very kind.

Weeks have passed since your victory, since the last time you've even seen Coriolanus, but it does nothing to erase him from your mind. You still see his faint silhouette in the mornings, when your eyes have barely adjusted to the morning light and there's a pile of clothes sitting on the chair beside your bed. You think you hear his voice amongst the sea of strangers’ conversations, calling out for his 'songbird'. And you swear you see his face in every crowd at the bar.

Unbeknownst to you, Coriolanus is having the same struggles on the opposite end of the country. Luckily, bearing the last name Snow meant his punishment for cheating was to be lighter than the usual hanging: mandatory military service. District 8. But he's sure to bring his last few bills to bribe the immigration officer for a transfer to 12. 

All to come find you. 

He suffers through the first week of training - grueling hours, hanging ceremonies, endless ramblings from Sejanus about making a change for the better. He pretends not to notice Sejanus establishing connections within the rebel community, until he can’t ignore it anymore. After all, Coriolanus simply can't afford his friend’s idealism and recklessness to get him killed too, and potentially you, when you're thought to be linked to the movement by mere virtue of association.

Especially not you, Coriolanus thinks.

After the games, of having to watch you bleed, sob and fight for hours on end as he stood helplessly, only able to watch: even the passing thought of your death elicits a violent reaction in him. He'll do anything for you. 

Even if that means turning in his only friend to prove his loyalty to the Capitol.

It's an unremarkable Wednesday night for you when you're singing a song at the bar, black guitar in hand and the smell of booze thick in the air, when your eyes come across a familiar face. 

It takes you a few seconds, of course. You almost think it’s a hallucination, if it wasn’t for the sea of other soldiers surrounding him, validating his presence. His fluffy white locks are gone, replaced with a clean buzz cut. He's lost a bit of weight, his shoulders more broad and rough from military training, and the lack of expensive bright fabrics draped around his figure is jarring at first. But it suits him, you think. 

The song can't finish any faster before you're slinging your guitar to the back and rushing up to Coriolanus, immediately throwing your arms around him. He stiffens in your embrace before relaxing, his arms finding your waist and squeezing you tightly. And you can't help but savor every essence of his being: he smells of sweat and coal (unlike his Capitol uniform which always smelled of florals and clean linen) and you can feel the cool metal of his dog tags press against your collarbone at this angle.

"You came back for me." you breathe out, still not believing that he's in front of you. Your ex mentor just smiles, tapping your cheeks with his hands.

"Said I'd never break a promise, now didn't I?" 

As the next performer goes up on stage, recapturing the attention of the audience, you pull him away towards the back room, far away from the bustling crowds and twinkling lights.

"I've thought of you every day, my songbird." Coriolanus whispers against your skin once you two are away from the crowds, his head falling forwards into the nape of your neck.

Your cheeks warm at his comment, your fingers coming up to play with the dog tags around his neck, before a light chuckle escapes your lips.

"What's so funny? Did you not miss me?" the blonde teases, and you shake your head sideways in denial.

"Of course I missed you. I missed you more than you could imagine."

"Then what's the chuckle for?"

You let out a short sigh, not knowing if it’d be wise to bring it up. But all he does is encouraging you, looking deep into your eyes and nodding, urging you to say what’s on your mind. You relent, shoulders sagging. 

"It's just... when I won the games, Highbottom congratulated me. But not for winning the games. But for surviving you." you awkwardly chuckle in hopes of diffusing the seriousness of your question. "Is it true, Coryo?"

"What are you getting at?" is his response, coy and low. You can't tell if he's amused, annoyed or disturbed. 

Or all three at once.

"There's rumors, you know. I heard that you... you had to kill a tribute." you whisper, as if what you’re saying is the biggest secret in the world. "Is it true?"

Coriolanus pauses at that, the smirk on his face dropping for a fraction of a second before he's cupping your face and lifting your gaze to meet his eyes. His stare is so strong, so unwavering, almost to the point of unnerving you. But it's matched with such warmth and softness in his touch as he strokes your hair.

"You have to understand, darling… It was just like the snakes. If I hadn't rigged the game by getting the snakes used to your smell so they wouldn't attack you, you would've died. And if I hadn't killed the tribute charging at me when I had to sneak into the arena to rescue Sejanus-" he sighs, slow and long. He looks as if he’s thinking hard. "I had to, my songbird. I had to do it to protect you. To take care of you." he emphasizes.

You're not sure what kind of an answer you wanted, but you're unable to respond immediately, as it slowly dawns on you that this man both cheated and killed another person for you. 

His response to your silence is a swift kiss, calloused hands dropping to your waist to pull you in close, the gesture desperate and messy. Breathing heavily when he parts from you, he kisses you once more, this time a short peck which is more rough and demanding.

"I would do anything for you, (Y/n) (L/n). Anything for you."

Coriolanus chooses to keep quiet about the fact that technically, he could've just injured the tribute charging towards him instead. Or that it felt freeing to have ended the tribute’s life. Or that just a few hours ago, he tipped off the Capitol about Sejanus' rebellion. All in an effort to secure your unbridled safety. So that he doesn’t ever have to let go of you again.

"Now, where are your manners, my songbird? Aren't you going to thank me?" he whispers against your lips, smoothing out your hair.

"T-thank you, Coryo." you manage to stutter.

He smiles at that, kissing the top of your head as he sways you from side to side.

"Of course, love. Don't worry. We’re going to be just fine. In fact, everything will be fine from now on."

As you peak out from under his embrace, you're not so sure if you can believe him anymore.

a/n: leave it to a new hunger games movie and Tom Blyth playing young!Snow to make me return from my 1.5 year long writing hiatus.

I'm quite nervous about this one as it's my first time writing for a semi-dark character and also because it's been so long since I posted my writing on here... But I hope you enjoyed, please leave a comment, like, reblog, etc if you liked it. If this one is received well I might go ahead and post the other Snow fics currently sitting in my drafts!!!

[apocalypseornaw]

Reality

Dean Winchester x Reader

Follow up to Fantasies

Donna needs help on a hunt so despite your protests Sam goes to back her, leaving you alone with Dean. When the two of you have a hunt land in your lap can you keep your feelings for Dean from boiling over?

You were sitting in the library when you heard Sam and Dean's voices drift down the hall. They were headed your way so you figured you'd wait to see if it was a hunt or just their usual back and forth.

You turned back to your laptop screen, eyes scanning the police reports Max had sent your way but your attention was drawn back into the conversation at hand when Sam said "I'll go back Donna. Max said he emailed Y/N about a possible hunt so the two of you can go chase that lead"

You cut your eyes up at Sam and noticed the look he sent your way. Your conversation from the day before played through your head Sam had cornered you in the kitchen. Dean was gone into town on a supply run so only the two of you were in the bunker.

"Did something happen between you and Dean?" You shook your head "Not that I know of, why?" You tried to focus on the cup of tea you were making but Sam's larger hand covered yours "It's just us here. I know you better than that. You've been avoiding being alone with him. Normally you'd jump at the chance to go into town, not to mention two horror movie marathons have passed without you two taking over the Dean cave so what's really going on?"

You refused to answer simply because Sam knew about your attraction to Dean. He teased you about it at times but had also seen first hand how many times you'd swallowed your pride and watched Dean talk up another leggy blonde in the name of maintaining your friendship with both Winchesters.

Apparently Sam had taken it upon himself to force you to face what was causing you to distance yourself from Dean. "I can go help Donna. You and Dean work better as a pair anyways" you offered but Dean turned his attention towards you "Are you just not wanting to hunt with me?"

You fought the urge to squirm under his gaze "It's not that Dean. It's just like I said, you two have been a pair your entire life" he nodded slowly "Just for that there's no way I'm taking Sam on this hunt. You've got two choices sweetheart, back me up or let me go alone and then if I get hurt..." he trailed off and your narrowed your eyes at him "You're an ass Dean" he grinned at your words "and yet you still like me"

Sam's smirk was poorly hidden when he said "In that case Y/N, I'm taking your car" you glared at him before saying "Be safe" his smirk slipped into a smile "You too"

Dean drove in silence, the only noise filling the impala was the radio playing and the tap of your phone screen as you read through the medical examiners reports for probably the hundredth time since the two of you left the bunker.

He had turned it into a joking manner but it had actually rubbed him the wrong way when you hadn't wanted to go on a hunt with him just the two of you. He wasn't stupid he could see you pulling away from him for the last few weeks but was clueless as to what he'd done to cause the change.

He cared about you,more than he probably should. Hell next to Sam you meant more to him than anyone. There were times he wished he could tell you just what you meant to him. He wanted you in every way a man could want a woman but he refused to do something stupid that would cost not only himself but Sam the price of losing you out of their lives.

You sighed lightly and he cut his eyes at you. You'd laid your phone down between the two of you and your head was leaned back against the seat. For a moment he thought you'd decided to get some sleep but you cracked one eye open and said "Yes?" He shrugged "You got even quieter. Making sure you're still with me"

You closed your eye back before saying "I'm still with you Dean for better or worse" a smile fought its way onto his face at your words. "For better or worse huh? Easy sweetheart sounds like you may want to keep me around a while" you shook your head "Just drive Winchester. Wake me when we get there"

Dean's lips trailed down your neck, nipping at the sensitive flesh. A light rumble of a laugh fell from his lips when you gasped at the feeling "You're so damn sensitive. I fucking love it" he teased and you felt one of his hands playing with the button on your jeans "Can I please take these off?" He whispered against your skin. You nodded "Please"

A moan fell from your lips when his fingers dug into your hips "Look at you, spread out for me. Never seen anything so damn beautiful"

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

Dean's hand on your arm, shaking slightly startled you out of your sleep. The remnants of the dream clung to your memories and you could feel your face warm and knew Dean either heard you say something in your sleep or clocked the change in you because a smirk slipped onto his face "What ya dreaming about? Sounded like you were enjoying it"

You rolled your eyes at him "Henry Cavill as the Witcher. Nice and dirty. Are we there yet?" He laughed and motioned to the windshield. You were parked outside a hotel named the blue bird inn. "I got us one room. That's all they had left but queen size beds at least" you nodded slowly "Sounds good to me. Let's get changed and hit the medical examiners office. Faster we get a lead, faster we can head home"

-----------

You followed him into the room and saw he'd already taken your go bags and fed suits inside before coming back to wake you up. Christ you hoped you hadn't said his name in your sleep.

You really needed to get some space from him,hell maybe you needed a good one night stand? You needed something to stop having sex dreams about Dean every damn time you dozed off. You heard Dean call your name and turned to face him. "Huh?" He motioned to the bathroom "You wanna change in there and I'll change out here then we can get going?"

You nodded and grabbed your fed suit off the bed "Yeah. Just um knock when you're done so I don't come out while you're still changing" he gave you one of those damn smiles that made heat rush straight to your core "Oh darling anytime you wanna peek at me feel free. I suggested changing in different rooms for your modesty not mine" you felt your face warm again but shook your head "Easy tiger. Save it for the bimbos at the bar"

You pushed your legs to keep up with Dean's pace. How the hell had what seemed like a simple case resulted in the two of you chasing down a pack of freaking ghouls. It was unusual enough to find a pair, let alone six.

You slid to a stop next to Dean and cursed when you realized why he'd stopped. The pack had split off. You'd been so focused on the ones ahead of you, neither of you had noticed the three closing in. Dean cut his eyes at you "I'll take the left" you grinned "I got the right"

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

When the last ghouls body dropped to the ground you allowed yourself a moment to take a deep breath before looking over at Dean "Burn and bury the ashes?" He nodded "Only way to make sure no one finds the bodies out here"

-----------

You stood next to Dean watching the last embers die down. "Guessing you're hitting the bar when we're done here?" You asked as you squatted down to pour water over the embers to cool them before he scooped them into the hole. He shook his head when you stood back up straight "I need a hot shower and some sleep. If I want a beer there's plenty in the minibar back in our room"

You honestly hadn't expected that. Wait, when was the last time Dean had went to a bar without leaving when you and Sam did? You shook your head to clear those thoughts before you ended up falling down a rabbit hole that would do nothing but give you false hope. Dean was your friend, you both were exhausted and filthy.

"Then on that note let's get out these damn woods. I'm not even sure what some of the bits in my hair even is" he turned to face you and grinned before plucking a bloody chunk from your hair "Don't worry you're still beautiful even covered in questionable things" "Quit teasing Dean" you scoffed before grabbing the shovel and turning to head back to where the impala was parked a couple blocks away from the cemetery.

Dean didn't know how much longer he could keep acting as if he didn't have the feelings he had for you. Hell he hadn't even attempted to pick up anyone at any of the bars you all would hit on your hunts in months. None of them compared to you and how was it right to anyone involved to be fucking someone else while he imagined it was one of his best friends?

He'd been cleaning your guns and machetes while you showered but the moment you stepped out of the bathroom he nearly dropped the damn blade that was in his hand. Your hair was clean and down around your shoulders, you were wearing a black shirt and a pair of dark pink sleep shorts that showed more than they covered. As if that wasn't bad enough when you bent down to put your dirty clothes in your bag he saw there was no way in hell you had panties on under those shorts and he felt his cock twitch at the thought.

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

You were asleep by the time Dean got out the shower so he didn't put a shirt on because the room was a little on the warm side or maybe thoughts of you without those damn little shorts covering you was pushing him a little warm. He needed a break, fuck he couldn't lose you but you were all he thought of here lately. He didn't want you for a night, he wanted to fucking ruin you for other men and let you ruin him for other women. How could he approach the subject without the chance of losing you?

Dean's lips on your skin caused a feverish chill to go through your body. "Fuck Dean, please" you begged and he hesitated, the head of his cock teasing your core "Words princess" he spoke in that damn tone that would make any woman's panties soaked. "Please fuck me" you managed and he grinned "Good girl" before sliding into you in one fluid movement that pulled a loud moan of his name from your lips

Dean sat up straight in bed the moment he heard you say his name. At first adrenaline told him something was wrong but he quickly scanned the room to see everything was still. When his eyes landed on your form he realized you were still asleep. Maybe you were just just dreaming? Could be a nightmare?

He studied you for a moment and noticed how hard you were breathing. He felt like a creep for staring at you while you slept but you had called his name after all. He felt his cock twitch when you called his name yet again because that was a moan. He felt a sense of accomplishment when he watched you roll over onto your back, your legs falling apart in your sleep as your face twisted in ecstasy. Fuck, were you having a sex dream? About him?

He needed to wake you up. Fuck he should wake you up. "Y/N!" He whispered shouted and you jolted up, the blanket falling down to pool in your lap as you snatched the gun from under your pillow and looked around the room "What?" He grinned "Easy tiger. Put the gun down. No danger you were just um dreaming kind of loud?"

He saw the moment the realization hit you. Your eyes widened and he could see a light sheen of sweat on your cheeks. "Did I say anything" he leaned up on one elbow and shrugged "Figured it was Cavill again" you nodded slowly "Yeah"

You started to lay down but he called your name and when you turned to face him he said "What was his name as the Witcher again?" "Geralt" you replied so he nodded "Yeah I thought so. Which doesn't explain why you were moaning Dean in your sleep"

You froze the moment Dean spoke. Fuck, he'd heard you. Fuck, you'd woke him up moaning his name. You refused to meet his eyes but could feel them on you, watching every small movement and knew if you even glanced his way he'd know the truth. "You're not the only Dean you know" your words sounded hollow even to your ears, a pathetic attempt to hold onto the life you had where Sam and Dean were your friends and you could hunt and live with them without any awkwardness.

"Only Dean you know as far as I know" he broke the silence and you shrugged "Sorry for waking you but can we just drop it?" Dean was silent for a moment and you hoped that was it. You turned on your side with your back to him but before you could even attempt to go back to sleep you felt the bed dip behind you and knew he was sitting there, waiting for you to face him and give some sort of explanation.

"Dean please" your voice broke on the end but you didn't care. You couldn't do this tonight. You could face it back at the bunker, you could grab your chevelle and leave."I don't want to ignore it, I don't want to drop it. I want to know what you were dreaming about"

You turned over to find him leaning back against the headboard of your bed nonchalantly as if the two of you were simply watching Nightmare on Elm Street. He was wearing a pair of black sleep pants and nothing else. Your eyes flickered across his chest taking in the small scars you knew were littered here and there along with the way the muscles moved when he readjusted the pillow behind his head and the way his eyes lit up when he noticed your attention, the way that damn smile made you feel.

"You know what I was dreaming about" you spoke, dropping your gaze to focus on his tattoo over meeting his eyes. He chuckled lightly "Well I mean it sounds like I was doing a good job at least" you felt your face warm "If you're just wanting to tease me please shut the fuck up Dean. You know you're gorgeous, you know every woman would kill to fuck you. I can't help my hormones. I don't want to fuck up our friendship or mine with Sam for that matter"

"Was it just hormones?" He asked and out of everything he could've said that threw you off. Your eyes flew to his face before you comprehended what you were doing "Huh?" He smirked, pushing your hair that was tousled from sleep back out of your face "Was it just hormones? Because if you just need a release I'm happy to oblige you"

You shook your head "You're unbelievable Dean" and moved to sit up, letting the blanket fall away. You saw the way Dean's eyes tracked your bare legs up to where the shorts had ridden up your thighs "What? I mean it when I tell you that you're beautiful, you're fucking gorgeous. If you need some assistance I can help you in that area"

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

The voice in Dean's head was screaming at him that this was a bad idea. He was propositioning one of his best friends,one of the most important people to him and the only woman he'd ever seen a chance at a future with but dammit if sex was what you wanted he'd give it to you. He knew that was one thing he was good at, if he could get you to only want him that was a start wasn't it?

He watched your face, trying to get a read on what you were thinking but you dropped your gaze again. You wouldn't meet his eyes when you whispered "and if it's not just hormones?" "Then I'd say I'm the luckiest son of a bitch alive"

He saw so many emotions flash through your eyes. The uncertainty in your voice broke his heart when you asked what he meant. He reached for your hand and you gave it to him, watching as he ran his thumb across your knuckles "I want you sweetheart. In every way a man could want a woman. I want to taste every inch of your skin, feel you fall apart under me then I want to still be wrapped up in you come morning. If you're willing to give me a chance here and now I'll let you decide come morning if you want what happens to stay in this room or if you want to try this thing between us"

You were quiet for a few excruciatingly long moments before you said "and if I ask you to kiss me?"

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

He grinned before his hands went to your hips and pulled you into his arms. You moved to straddle his waist and the way he looked at you made your stomach flip "You're so damn beautiful" he murmured before crashing his lips against yours.

Fuck any dream you'd ever had. Your imagination could never mimic the feeling of Dean's lips on yours. His tongue flicked past your lips, rolling against yours. You rolled your hips down against his and moaned into his mouth at the feeling of his body reacting to the kiss.

When the need for air forced you away from each other he gripped your hips tightly, pulling you down against his hardened cock "That's what you do to me with a damn kiss. I haven't touched another woman in months, I dont want another woman. I've wanted you" "I'm yours Dean" you whispered and he groaned lightly, laying his head over on your chest "Baby I know I said it would be your choice come morning but keep talking like that and the choice is gonna be made now"

You pulled back from him,forcing him to move his face up to look at you. You reached for the hem of your shirt feeling a sudden rush of confidence from his words. You slipped the shirt over your head and tossed it behind you. The look in his eyes was pure hunger as he took in you bare from the waist up. "Dean, I'm yours. I've been yours for longer than I care to admit. Claim what's yours"

He gripped your hips and moved, flipping you both over so you were now on your back and he was hovering over you "I'm yours sweetheart" was all he said before claiming your lips in a bruising kiss. You gasped when he moved from your lips to kiss down your neck, biting the places that made you squirm.

He moved down your body, licking and sucking at your breasts. One of his hands slipped under your sleep shorts and he pulled back from the attention he was showing your flesh to look up at you "No panties?" You shrugged "I never wear panties with these shorts"

"You wear these around Sammy" he practically fucking growled and you felt yourself clench around air. If you were wet before you were soaked now but still felt the need to tease him "Why? What's wrong with wearing these around Sam?" He gave you a grin that was nothing short of devilish. In one fluid movement he gripped your shorts with both of his hands and you felt a slight tug as you heard the fabric rip.

He pulled the ruined material from your body before settling himself between your legs. You glared at him "I liked those" he winked at you "I'll make it up to you" you didn't have time to ask before he lowered his mouth to your pussy. The first lick was teasing, tentative almost but when your fingers tangled into his hair, hips bucking up and a moan of "Dean please" left you he was like a man starved.

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

The first orgasm crashed hard over you, making your legs shake around Dean's head but before you could recover completely from that one he'd slipped two fingers into you along with his tongue. He found that spot inside of you and worked it with his fingers before sucking your clit into his mouth.

The second orgasm slammed into you, causing a scream of his name to be ripped from you as you came. After a moment you shoved weakly at his head "Dean please. Please" you weren't sure what you were asking for but you'd never came two times that close together,hell normally you were lucky to come once.

He left an open mouthed kiss against your clit before pulling back to look up at you. He grinned at you,chin glistening with your juices. "What's wrong?"

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

You shook your head "come here" he kissed his way up your body, kissing and biting every inch of skin he could reach along the way. When he finally made it to your lips he kissed you lazily letting you taste yourself on him. "Dean there's so much I want to do but fuck I need you inside me" He groaned "That's got to be the sexiest thing I've ever heard"

You laughed "I doubt that" he shook his head "I'm gonna enjoy fucking that doubt right out of your pretty little head" he stood up and pushed his pants off his hips.

He wrapped a hand around his cock, locking eyes with you as he did so. "How do you want me?" You bit your bottom lip in before saying "Get on the bed"

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

He raised an eyebrow but climbed into the bed, laying back with one arm behind his head. "Take what's yours" you caught his lips in a hungry kiss before moving to kiss down his chest. You worked the skin there with kisses and small bites. You'd always loved Dean's chest and getting to openly explore it while his breathing quickened under your touch was every damn dream you could've ever had.

When you got down to his waist you looked up at him before swirling your tongue around the head of his cock, collecting the precum on your tongue. His head fell back against the pillow "Fuck baby" when you moved to take as much of him down your throat as you could he moved to pull your hair back, not tugging but keeping it out of the way so he could watch you.

"Just like that...fuck you really are perfect" his praises urged you on until he pulled out of your mouth roughly. You looked up at him and he laughed breathlessly "I know where I'm coming and it's not your mouth. Not this time"

He pulled you up the bed, leaving you no choice but to straddle him. You felt his hard cock against your thigh and lifted up before lowering yourself on it.

-----------

Once he was fully inside of you, both of you let out a low groan at the feeling. After a moment you rolled your hips and he dropped his head back, eyes half closed. "How the fuck did I get this lucky" he cursed as you started to move up and down, chasing your third orgasm.

"Goddamn baby" the grip he had on your hips was bruising as he started to bring his hips up to meet your thrusts. You were so damn close and he knew it because when he slipped one hand between you to work at your clit you fell apart, shaking around him.

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

He flipped the two of you over so he was on top, never pulling out. His thrusts going even deeper in this angle "Feel so damn good...so damn gorgeous taking me this good.... fuck you're perfect Y/N"

You knew he was close, he pushed your legs even further apart and you let them fall open. You were damn near crying his name from how sensitive you were and from the impending fourth orgasm. "Dean please tell me you're close" he nodded, burying his face in your neck "Can I come in you?" He asked between gritted teeth.

"Please" you moaned and his thrusts got harder, chasing his own high. You felt his body tense before he buried himself inside of you with one final thrust and the feeling of him finding release pushed you over the edge yet again.

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

You both lay there, him still inside of you as you worked to get your breathing back to normal. He leaned up to look down at you and smiled "Fuck I thought you were gorgeous before, you're a fucking goddess all fucked out" you shook your head with a tired laugh "Not too bad yourself Winchester" He pulled out of you gently, kissing you in apology when you whined at the loss.

"I'm gonna go get a rag to clean you up and grab you a water. Ok?" You nodded and watched him walk over to the bathroom. He came back with a warm rag and cleaned you up before tossing it in the corner of the room then helped you to sit up and made sure you drank enough before climbing in the bed with you.

He pulled you over onto his chest. You curled up to him and was quiet for a moment trying to soak in everything that had just happened "Please tell me you're exhausted and not being quiet from regret" he asked and when you looked up at him your heart clenched. Dean looked so damn uncertain in that moment. "Never. I know how I feel about you, how I've felt about you for a long time. I just didn't want to risk losing you"

He smiled "you could never lose me. Anytime I think of the future it's you" you felt your heart flip and pressed another quick kiss to his lips "Let's get some sleep. We'll figure the rest out as we go" "Just as long as i get to have you in my arms, I'm good"

Tags: @swndwwhxre @sunnyhummingbee @maxiismp

[castiwls]

willow - s.w

Paring; sam x reader

Prompt; 'I'm begging for you to take my hand. Wreck my plans, that's my man'

Requested; anon

Notes;tysm for the request <3 the yellow lights mentioned are like the one in the video (anon requested!)

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

Sam Winchester was a relatively new addition to your life. It had barely been a month since he and his brother had waltzed right into your life and seemingly derailed it from the almost perfect track it had been on.

In that time you’d found yourself falling fast and hard for the younger of the two. Falling in love was something which seemingly came easy to you, free falling into a relationship was something which gave you a thrill like no other yet this was different. Falling this time didn't mean simply moving your toothbrush into a new bathroom a few streets down, no falling this time was life-altering almost.

But you were more than willing. The idea excited you almost. Getting to experience a whole new world while being around someone who made butterflies swarm in your stomach was something which you only saw in novels you’d read as a teen. 

You were under no illusion that hunting was an easy life, both Sam and Dean had been very straight with what you were walking into, especially with them but you were willing. And being here now made the hell that was slowly becoming your reality seem to melt away and become nothing but an afterthought.

The small streets of the town were bustling with people as the two of you slowly weaved your way through. You noticed every so often the way Sam would glance back making sure you were still behind him before quickly turning back whenever you met his gaze. The simple act sent butterflies swarming in your stomach and made you even more curious as to why he had dragged you from your bed at midnight.

Sam would never admit it out loud but you weren’t the only one who’d seemingly fallen hard and fast. The thought of a relationship had never even crossed his mind until you’d appeared in his life and suddenly it was all he could think of. 

His life was less than ordinary and part of him had begun to believe that the obstacles that constantly between him and love were simply a sign from above that maybe he wasn’t meant to find a connection like that. But then he’d met you.

“Just up here.” Sam pointed to a small hill not far from where you were both currently standing. You nodded sending him a small smile. As you both continued to walk the crowd of people only seemed to grow larger and larger causing you to reach for his hand on instinct.

He didn’t say anything as he reassuringly squeezed your hand navigating you both through the crowd until they slowly began to disperse the closer and closer you got to the clearing. “Why did you want to come here again?” You asked taking a seat on the grass in front of a large tree. 

Sam quickly sat beside you leaning back against the trunk a smile growing on his face as he watched the sky. “I read about a festive they do here around this time of year.” A small glint of excitement appeared in his eyes as he turned his attention to you. “Just watch.” He nodded forward.

“Alright.” You sat forward curious as to what he could have possibly read about. You’d only been in this town for a day and so far you’d seen nothing of a festival, yet the crowds you’d seen said differently.

A comfortable silence fell over you both after a moment. After a moment something in the distance began to glitter against the dark sky. The small yellow light stood alone for a moment, slowly rising into the sky before another light joined it. 

A small gasp left your lips as what seemed like hundreds of other yellow lights began to dot the skies over the town. “It’s beautiful.” You turned to him in awe before quickly turning back to watch as the lights drifted across the sky.

Sam smiled his heart fluttering slightly at the look of pure awe etched on your face as you continued to watch the small lights pass by. After a few more moments he felt you relax onto the trunk beside him, your gaze still locked on the sky which was now full of small yellow lights.

Slowly he moved his arm around you, he felt his breath almost stop in his chest as your head dropped to his shoulder with a small contented sigh. At the movement, he felt himself relax as he turned his attention from the sky to you.

The lights were dazzling but he was much more infatuated with the sight in his arms.

[lila-lou]

✨Beyond saving - Pt. 2✨

Summary: Dean is back and no longer a demon. But with all the emotions he has to deal with now, he would rather die.

This is part 3 of "Beyond saving".

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only!, Mention of rape, Language, Angst, Hurt

Word Count: 5518

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As the hours stretched on, the pain seemed to deepen, sinking into your bones and settling in your soul. At first, you lay on the floor, tears flowing freely as you grappled with the overwhelming sense of despair that threatened to consume you.

But as time passed, a numbness set in, dulling the sharp edges of your agony and enveloping you in a cold, empty void. You lay there, lost in the darkness of your own thoughts, the weight of your suffering pressing down on you like a leaden blanket.

After hours and with trembling limbs and tears streaming down your face, you forced yourself to your feet, the pain in your broken wrists and ribs a constant reminder of the brutality you had endured.

With each step, you felt the weight of your pain bearing down on you, threatening to crush you beneath its unbearable burden.

You made your way towards the bathroom, each movement filled with agony.

As you sank into the warm embrace of the bathtub, the water enveloped you like a soothing balm, offering a brief respite from the relentless ache that gripped your body. But even as the comforting embrace of the water washed over you, the pain remained.

Your wrists throbbed with a dull, persistent ache, the broken bones protesting with every movement. Each breath sent sharp spikes of pain shooting through your ribs, the fractured bones protesting against the strain of simply existing. And between your legs, your pussy throbbed with a raw, tender soreness, a painful reminder of Dean's brutal assault.

As you lay there, staring blankly at the water stained crimson with your own blood, you couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness wash over you. It wasn't just your body that bore the scars of Dean's cruelty, but your heart and soul as well.

Your face bore the imprint of his violence, your Skin bruised and swollen. And beneath the water, your bruised buttocks throbbed with pain, the memory of his forceful kneel still fresh in your mind.

As Sam and Cas returned to the bunker, a sense of urgency filled the air. Sam's heart raced with fear as he noticed the dried blood staining the kitchen floor, his mind racing with dread at the thought of what could have happened to you. Without hesitation, he began knocking frantically on the bathroom door, calling out your name with increasing desperation.

"Y/N, open up!", Sam's voice was filled with concern and panic as he pounded on the door, his hands trembling with fear. "Please, we need to make sure you're okay!".

But there was no response, only silence echoing back at him from the other side of the door. His heart sank as he exchanged a worried glance with Cas, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him like a heavy stone.

"Cas, we need to get this door open", Sam urged, his voice laced with urgency as he turned to his angelic friend for help. "Something's not right. I can feel it".

With a determined nod, Cas focused his powers, channeling his energy into the door with a burst of light. In an instant, the lock clicked open, and Sam pushed the door open with a sense of dread gnawing at his insides.

But as he stepped inside, what he saw took his breath away. There you were, lying motionless in the bathtub, surrounded by water tinged with the faint traces of blood. Sam's heart clenched with fear as he rushed to your side, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch you.

"Y/N, can you hear me?", Sam's voice was thick with emotion as he gently shook your shoulder, his eyes wide with fear. "Please, say something. Anything".

But you remained silent, your eyes vacant and distant as you stared blankly ahead. Sam's heart sank as he realized the depth of your pain.

As Sam pleaded with Cas to heal you, desperation crept into his voice, his eyes pleading with the angel for help. But despite Cas's best efforts, his healing powers seemed ineffective against the depth of your injuries. You looked terrible, completely broken, your body bearing the physical and emotional scars of Dean's cruelty.

Gently, Sam scooped you up in his arms, wrapping a towel around you with Cas's help, mindful of your fragile state.

As he held you close, he could feel the weight of your pain pressing against him. With each sob that wracked your body, his heart broke a little more, his own tears mingling with yours as he whispered words of comfort and reassurance.

"You're safe now, Y/N", Sam murmured softly.

With each step, each movement, you cried out in pain, your broken body unable to withstand even the slightest touch.

Again Cas tried to heal you. His touch enveloped your broken body, his powers surging forth with a gentle glow. With a focused determination, he began to mend the shattered bones in your wrists and ribs, his efforts slowly easing the physical pain that wracked your body.

As the warmth of his healing magic spread through you, you felt a glimmer of relief wash over you, the sharp edges of your agony blunted by his divine intervention. But even as your physical wounds began to heal, the scars that marred your soul remained untouched, a constant reminder of the darkness that had consumed you.

With a heavy heart, Cas realized the limitations of his power. Despite his best efforts, he could mend your broken bones, but the wounds that lay within you ran far deeper than he could reach.

"I've done what I can for your injuries", Cas murmured softly, his voice filled with regret as he regarded you with a solemn gaze. "But healing your soul… that will take time".

Sam's heart ached as he watched you, his own eyes filled with a mixture of compassion and sorrow. He longed

Three long weeks passed before you found the strength to speak again, the weight of your silence bearing down on you like a heavy burden. With trembling lips, you finally opened up to Sam, your voice barely above a whisper as you recounted the horrors that Dean had inflicted upon you.

"I… I couldn't stop him", you began, your voice trembling with emotion as you struggled to find the words to convey the depth of your suffering. "Dean… he… he hurt me, Sam. He hurt me in ways I can't even begin to describe".

Sam's eyes filled with tears as he listened to your words, his heart breaking with each revelation. He reached out to you, his hand offering silent support as you continued to speak, recounting the brutality of Dean's actions with a raw honesty that left him reeling.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N", Sam whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I had no idea… I never thought Dean could… could do something like that".

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to come to terms with the reality of what had happened. "I… I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive him", you admitted, your voice choked with emotion. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to look at him the same way again".

From that moment on, everything changed. The lightness and laughter that had once filled the bunker were replaced by a heavy silence, the weight of your pain casting a shadow over everything you did. Even the thought of Dean filled you with a sense of dread and betrayal, and you found yourself withdrawing further and further into yourself, your hope for redemption slipping away with each passing day.

Six months had passed since Sam had succeeded in healing Dean from the darkness of his demonhood. As Sam carefully uncuffed him in the dimly lit basement, a sense of trepidation hung heavy in the air. Dean’s first question, as the shackles fell away, was for you.

“Where is she?”, Dean’s voice was filled with a mixture of concern and longing as he scanned the room, searching for any sign of your presence. But Sam’s expression remained firm, his resolve unyielding as he stood between Dean and the truth.

“Not now, Dean”, Sam replied gently, his voice tinged with sadness. “She’s… she’s not ready to see you yet”.

Dean's heart sank at Sam's words, a heavy weight settling in his chest at the thought of your absence. "I understand", he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm… I'm not sure I'm ready to see her either. Not after what I did".

Sam's gaze softened with empathy as he looked at his brother, understanding the depth of Dean's guilt and remorse. "She's been struggling, Dean", he explained gently, his voice filled with concern. "It hasn't been easy for her these past six months. She's… she's hurt".

Dean's jaw tightened as he listened to Sam's words, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him like a leaden weight. "I know", he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "And it's all my fault".

Sam reached out, placing a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder. "We'll get through this together, Dean", he reassured him, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him. "But it's going to take time. It's going to take a lot of work to earn back her trust".

As you entered your room, after a few days at Jodie´s, the familiar scent of Dean enveloped you, sending a shiver down your spine. It was a scent you had once found comforting, a reminder of the love and connection you shared with him. But now, it filled you with a sense of unease, dredging up painful memories that you had tried so hard to bury.

Unaware that Dean was back and healed, you began to unpack your belongings, your mind drifting back to the last time you had been in this room together. The memory of his touch, his laughter, and the warmth of his embrace lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of what had been lost.

Little did you know, Dean had been there just moments before, his presence lingering like a ghost in the room. He had come seeking solace in the familiar surroundings, hoping to feel some connection to you.

But as you moved about the room, your senses tingling with the weight of his presence, a sense of foreboding washed over you. It was as if the walls themselves were closing in, suffocating you with the memories of a love that had turned sour.

And as you stood there, frozen in place, the realization slowly dawned on you—Dean was back. He was here, in this room, just minutes ago, his presence a haunting reminder of the pain and betrayal you had endured.

Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to come to terms with the truth, the weight of his absence and his return crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You knew that facing him again would reopen wounds, dredging up emotions you had spent months trying to suppress.

As tears streamed down your cheeks, Sam found you frozen in the room, your emotions palpable in the air around you. Concern etched deep lines into Sam's face as he approached, his footsteps slow and deliberate.

"We need to talk", Sam said gently, his voice filled with compassion as he reached out to touch your shoulder.

You turned to face him, your expression a mixture of anguish and resignation. "I already know", you whispered hoarsely, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sam's brow furrowed with concern as he moved closer, his hand lingering on your arm. "Y/N, I know this is hard, but you can't just run away from this", he urged softly, his eyes searching yours for some sign of understanding.

But you were already moving towards the door, your mind clouded with pain and uncertainty. "I can't do this, Sam", you choked out, your voice breaking with emotion. "I can't face him again, not after everything that's happened".

Sam's grip tightened on your arm, his expression filled with determination. "You don't have to face him alone", he insisted, his voice unwavering. "I'll be there with you, every step of the way".

For a moment, you hesitated, torn between the desire to flee and the need to confront the truth. But in the end, it was Sam's unwavering support that gave you the strength to stay.

With a heavy sigh, you nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that bound you together.

As the days passed, the weight of Dean's presence hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the turmoil that engulfed your life. Despite Sam's assurances, you couldn't bring yourself to face him, the fear and uncertainty gnawing at your insides like a relentless beast.

Each night, you lay awake in bed, listening to the echoes of Dean's screams as he wrestled with his nightmares. His tortured cries pierced the silence of the night, a haunting melody that echoed through the empty corridors of the bunker.

And during the day, you remained holed up in your room, barricaded behind closed doors as you sought refuge from the chaos that threatened to consume you. The sound of Dean's footsteps outside your door sent shivers down your spine, the fear of his presence paralyzing you with its intensity.

Sleep became a distant memory, your mind plagued by a never-ending carousel of worries and anxieties. Dark circles formed beneath your eyes, a testament to the sleepless nights and endless torment that plagued your every waking moment.

In the kitchen, your hands trembled as you reached for another cup of coffee, the bitter taste a poor substitute for the comfort you so desperately craved.

Cas found you in the kitchen, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow as he took in your tired and worn appearance.

"Y/N, you look exhausted", he remarked softly, his blue eyes filled with worry. "Have you been sleeping at all?".

You shook your head, the weariness weighing heavily on your shoulders. "Not much", you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's been hard to find any peace, especially with him back".

Cas nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic. "I can imagine", he replied gently. "But you can't keep going on like this. It's not healthy".

Tears welled in your eyes as you confessed your fear. "I'm afraid to sleep", you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. "Every time I close my eyes, I hear Dean's screams and footsteps outside my door. I can't bear the thought of facing him again".

"I can stay with you while you sleep, if that would help".

Your heart swelled with gratitude at his offer, a sense of relief washing over you like a wave. "Thank you, Cas", you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I don't know what I would do without you".

A few hours later, the sound of the bunker door opening signaled the return of Sam and Dean from their hunt. Sam's footsteps echoed through the corridors as he made his way through the bunker, his expression a mix of exhaustion and anticipation.

"Hey, Cas, you here?", Sam called out, his voice carrying down the hallway.

Cas emerged from your room, his gaze meeting Sam's as he stepped into the dimly lit corridor. "Sam", he greeted quietly, his tone somber.

Sam's brow furrowed with concern as he took in Cas's grave expression. "What's going on?", he asked.

Cas hesitated for a moment before speaking, his words measured and deliberate. "Y/N hasn't been sleeping well", he explained, his gaze drifting back to your sleeping form on the bed.

Sam's glanced into the room, his heart sinking at the sight of you curled up on the bed, your face drawn and pale in the soft light.

"What do you mean?", Sam asked, his voice filled with worry.

Cas sighed. "She's been afraid to sleep", he admitted quietly. "So I offered to stay with her while she rests".

"Thank you, Cas", he said sincerely, gratitude evident in his voice. "I'll take over from here".

And as Cas nodded in acknowledgment, Sam stepped into the room, his gaze lingering on your sleeping form with a mixture of concern and tenderness. With Cas's help, he would ensure that you found the peace and rest you so desperately needed.

As Sam and Cas remained in your room, their voices barely above a whisper as they discussed your condition, Dean found himself drawn to the doorway like a moth to a flame. Despite Sam's explicit instructions to stay away, he couldn't resist the urge to see you, to reassure himself that you were okay.

With each hesitant step, Dean's heart pounded in his chest, his footsteps silent on the floor as he approached the room where you lay sleeping. He knew he shouldn't be here, knew he was risking Sam's wrath by defying his orders, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to see you, to make sure you were safe.

As he reached the doorway, Dean's breath caught in his throat at the sight before him. You lay on the bed, your breathing slow and steady, your face peaceful in sleep. For a moment, Dean was transfixed by the sight of you, his heart aching with longing and regret.

But even as he stood there, a voice in the back of his mind reminded him of the pain he had caused you, of the darkness that still lingered within him. He knew he didn't deserve your forgiveness, didn't deserve to be anywhere near you after what he had done.

As Dean turned to leave the room, Sam’s voice cut through the silence like a knife.

“Dean, what the hell are you doing here?”, Sam’s tone was sharp, his eyes flashing with anger as he confronted his brother in the hallway.

Dean froze in his tracks, his heart sinking at the sound of Sam’s voice.

“I just… I needed to see her, Sammy”, Dean replied, his voice heavy with guilt and regret. “I needed to know she was okay”.

"I get that, Dean", Sam said, his voice softer but still tinged with frustration. "But she needs space, especially from you".

Dean nodded, a mix of shame and understanding evident in his eyes. "I know, Sam. I fucking screwed up", he admitted, his voice tight with emotion. "I just… I can't stand the thought of her being in pain and not being able to do anything about it".

Sam sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as he tried to find the right words. "I know you care about her, Dean", he said gently. "But right now, what she needs most is for you to respect her boundaries. Give her the space she needs to heal".

Dean swallowed hard, the weight of Sam's words sinking in. "I will, Sam. I promise", he vowed, his voice filled with sincerity.

With a nod, Sam gestured for Dean to follow him away from the room. As they walked down the hallway together, Dean couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that weighed heavily on his heart.

One week later, Sam and Dean sat in the library, the weight of their conversation hanging heavy in the air. They had been discussing Dean's time as a demon, the darkness that had consumed him, and the pain he had inflicted on those he cared about.

After a long silence, broken only by the soft crackling of the fireplace, Dean spoke up, his voice choked with tears. "I can't do this", he admitted, his words barely above a whisper. "I can't live with what I've done to her".

Sam's heart sank at the despair in his brother's voice, the anguish written plainly on his face. He reached out a hand, placing it gently on Dean's shoulder, offering what little comfort he could.

"I know it's hard, Dean", Sam said softly, his own voice thick with emotion. "But you can't give up. You have to find a way to live with what you've done, to make things right".

Dean shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I don't know if I can, Sam", he confessed, his voice raw with pain. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself for what I did to her".

Sam's heart broke for his brother, for the torment he was enduring. He wanted nothing more than to take away Dean's suffering, to ease the burden of guilt that weighed so heavily upon him.

Dean’s voice cracked as he continued, the weight of his confession pressing down on him like a heavy burden. “I hate myself, Sam”, he whispered. “I can’t even look at myself in the mirror anymore. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is… is what I did to her”.

"I know, Dean”, Sam said softly. “I know it’s hard, but you can’t let it consume you. You’re stronger than this”.

But Dean shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks unchecked. “I don’t feel strong, Sam”, he admitted. “I feel broken. Like I’m irredeemable”.

"I know she'll never forgive me, Sam", he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I don't blame her. What I did… it's unforgivable".

Sam's heart clenched at Dean's admission, the weight of his brother's pain almost too much to bear. "Dean, you can't give up hope", he said gently, his voice filled with compassion. "People can surprise you. You just have to give her time".

But Dean shook his head, his eyes filled with resignation. "I've lost her, Sam", he said, his voice hollow with despair. "I've lost the love of my life, and the respect I had for myself along with it".

Standing in the hallway, you listened silently to the conversation unfolding in the library. The weight of Dean's confession and Sam's comforting words hung heavy in the air, their voices echoing through corridor.

Tears welled in your eyes as you heard Dean's admission of self-hatred and despair. The pain in his voice cut through you like a knife, stirring a mixture of emotions within you. Part of you longed to reach out to him, to offer him solace and forgiveness. But another part of you recoiled at the memories of the trauma he had inflicted upon you, the scars that still lingered both physically and emotionally.

Taking a deep breath, you silently retreated from the hallway, the weight of the conversation heavy on your heart. You knew that healing would take time, for both you and Dean.

Another week passed, the weight of the unresolved tension between you and Dean hanging heavy in the air. Despite Sam and Cas's efforts to provide support and comfort, sleep continued to elude both of you. And as Cas had to leave to attend to other matters, leaving you without his comforting presence, the nights grew even longer and more restless.

One evening, as you stood in kitchen, the soft glow of the overhead lights casting shadows across the room, you reached for a beer from the fridge. Your mind was consumed with thoughts of Dean and the tumultuous emotions that swirled within you.

But before you could retreat to the solitude of your room, the sound of footsteps drew your attention, and you froze as Dean entered the kitchen. The air between you crackled with tension, the weight of the unspoken words and unresolved emotions hanging heavy in the silence.

As you found yourself alone with Dean in the very room where he had caused you so much pain, a wave of fear washed over you, paralyzing you in place. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering against your ribs as though it were trying to escape the confines of your chest. Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision as you pressed yourself against the cold surface of the kitchen counter, seeking any semblance of safety and distance from the man who had once been your everything.

For Dean, seeing the raw fear reflected in your eyes was like a dagger to his heart. The weight of his past actions bore down upon him, crushing him with the knowledge of the pain he had caused you. His own eyes filled with tears as he watched you retreat, his heart breaking at the sight of your distress. Seeing you pressed against the kitchen counter, seeking refuge from him, shattered him in a way he hadn't expected.

"I'm so sorry", Dean whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he took a hesitant step forward, his hands trembling at his sides. "I never wanted to hurt you. I swear, I never meant for any of this to happen".

His words hung heavy in the air, filled with the weight of his sincerity. But he knew that mere words could never erase the pain he had caused you. He longed to reach out to you, to offer you solace and comfort.

As Dean took another step forward, his expression wrought with anguish and regret, you held up a trembling hand, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger.

"Don't… don't come any closer", you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper, yet laced with a palpable sense of urgency. Your cheeks were wet with tears, your entire body trembling with the weight of your emotions. Every fiber of your being recoiled at the thought of him drawing near, the memories of his past actions haunting you like ghosts in the night.

"I can't… I can't do this", you continued, your voice wavering as you struggled to maintain your composure. "Not now, not ever. You… you've broken something inside of me, Dean. Something that can never be fixed".

Your words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the irreparable damage that had been done. The distance between you felt insurmountable, a gaping chasm that stretched on for eternity.

Dean froze in place, his heart breaking at the sound of your trembling voice and the anguish etched across your tear-stained face. He longed to reach out to you, to wrap you in his arms and beg for your forgiveness. But he knew that he had no right to ask for such mercy, not after what he had done to you.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, (Y/N). Not after everything I've done".

His words were heavy with resignation, his gaze cast downward as he grappled with the enormity of his mistakes. The pain in his eyes mirrored your own, a reflection of the shattered pieces of both your hearts.

"I just… I just want you to know that I'm sorry", Dean continued. "I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make things right, even if I never earn your forgiveness".

As Sam stumbled into the kitchen, his eyes half-lidded with sleep, he froze in his tracks at the sight before him. The scene that unfolded before his eyes sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through his veins, instantly banishing the remnants of sleep from his mind.

The sight of you, standing there with tears streaming down your face, your eyes wide with fear, pierced through him like a knife.

"Hey, hey, what's going on?", Sam's voice was soft but urgent as he rushed forward, his eyes flickering between you and Dean, who stood nearby with a look of devastation etched across his features.

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. His instincts told him that something was seriously wrong.

With a sense of urgency, Sam stepped forward, his gaze never leaving yours as he reached out a comforting hand. "Are you okay", he asked, his voice filled with concern. "What happened?".

With a shaky voice and a forced calmness, you respond to Sam, "Nothing, Sam. Nothing happened". But the tremor in your voice and the haunted look in your eyes betray the truth of your words.

Before Sam could press further, you turn abruptly and practically flee from the kitchen, your heart pounding in your chest as you race towards the safety of your room.

As the door slams shut behind you, the sound reverberates through the quiet bunker. Inside the confines of your room, you collapse onto the bed, tears streaming down your face as you try to quell the storm of emotions raging within you.

Meanwhile, Dean stands in the kitchen, his fists clenched at his sides as he stares at the spot where you had stood only moments before. The silence hangs heavy in the air, broken only by the sound of his ragged breaths and the steady thud of his heart.

With a growl of frustration, Dean lashes out, his fist colliding with the wall with enough force to leave a sizable dent. Pain shoots through his hand, but it pales in comparison to the anguish that gnaws at his soul.

Tears prickle at the corners of his eyes as he sinks to the floor, the weight of his remorse pressing down upon him. He had thought that seeing you again would bring him some measure of closure, some semblance of redemption. But all he had accomplished was to reopen the wounds he had inflicted upon you, tearing them open with brutal force.

In that moment, Dean feels utterly lost, adrift in a sea of regret and self-loathing. He had shattered the one thing he had cherished most in this world, and now he was left to face the consequences of his actions alone.

As Dean sat on the floor, his back against the wall, Sam approached him cautiously.

"Dean, man, are you okay?", Sam asked softly, his voice tinged with worry.

Dean looked up at his brother, his eyes bloodshot and filled with tears. "No, Sam, I'm not okay", he admitted, his voice choked with emotion. "I don't think I'll ever be okay again".

Sam sinked down beside him, mirroring his brother's posture as they both sat in silence for a moment. "Dean, what happened between you two… it wasn't your fault", he said gently.

But Dean shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "No, Sam, you don't understand", he insisted. "I hurt her, Sam. I hurt her in ways that I can't even begin to comprehend. And now… now I don't know how to fix it".

"Dean, you need to forgive yourself first".

Dean's voice trembled as he spoke, the weight of his words heavy with shame and self-loathing. "How am I supposed to forgive myself, Sam?", he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "How can I ever look her in the eyes again, knowing what I did to her? How can I live with myself, knowing that I… that I raped my own girlfriend because I was a fucking demon?".

Dean felt like he's drowning in a sea of guilt and remorse.

"Sam, you don't understand", he said, "This… this is worse than anything I ever experienced in Hell. Worse than purgatory. Since I've been back, since I'm no demon anymore, the pain of what I did to her… it's unbearable. It's like a constant weight crushing down on me, suffocating me. I can't escape it, Sam. I can't escape the guilt, the shame, the remorse. It's consuming me from the inside out".

"I don't know how to live with myself, Sam", he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Every day, every moment, I'm haunted by what I did to her. And the worst part is… I know I don't deserve to be forgiven. I don't deserve to be happy. I don't deserve anything".

Sam's heart broke for his brother, knowing the depth of his pain. He reached out, wrapping Dean in a tight embrace, offering what little comfort he can. "Dean, listen to me", he mumbled softly, his voice filled with conviction. "I promise you, we'll find a way to make things right. But you have to hold on. You have to keep fighting".

For a moment, Dean allowed himself to lean into Sam's embrace, seeking solace in the comfort of his presence.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

Part 3

[bitchylandtyphoon]

Important to me

Sam Winchester x Reader

(Y/N): your name

(E/C): eye colour

(C/C): celeb crush

Sam and Dean slowly descended the rusty black stairs, trying not to trip from exhaustion. Every nerve ending in their body was hypersensitive; their fingers and toes were cold; their eyes and heads pounded from lack of sleep; and a rotting stench was secreting from their overworn clothing. “Hey guys, how was the hunt?" you asked in a gentle voice to avoid elevating their migraine pain. Dean mumbled under his breath as he walked to his room; even Sam could only give a small smile and “tiring” as a response.

You’ve noticed how the boys have become more tired after their hunts. Maybe it was because you did all the research while they did all the dirty work, or simply because they were getting older. Either way, it’s been taking a toll on their health, and you know it wouldn’t be good in the long run.

Judging from their clothes, you assumed they’d be taking a shower before getting some shut-eye, but you didn’t want them to go to bed hungry.

Walking to the kitchen, you opened the white door of the fridge, which consisted of a few eggs, lettuce, and beer. Wow, no wonder these guys only eat out. Groaning, you grabbed your keys and coat, texting Sam and Dean that you'd be heading out, knowing disturbing them wouldn’t be the best idea.

——————————————————————— Sam walked out of the steaming shower, wrapping his lower body in a towel. Taking another to dry off his hair. He ran his long fingers through his hair, noticing it had become very coarse over the past few months. Sam thought back to a hunt when shards of a monster's guts managed to get stuck in his hair. He felt like it was a personal attack; a shower didn’t help as much as he wanted to either. He spent hours trying to get the red and black hard goo out, even asking Dean. Unfortunately, Dean was not very gentle and made Sam partially ball. He remembers how you saved the day with coconut oil and a small brush. You had to sit on a chair while Sam sat crisscrossed in between your legs. You guys were still getting to know each other, so it was an awkward moment, but after Sam felt your gentle nails and euphoric massage, he melted. His head rested on your bare, soft thigh as you worked on the sides of his head. He felt so much at peace that he could’ve slept right then and there. He chuckled as he ran his hand through his hair, wishing he could have some of that magic right now. He wanted the comfort you gave him.

Putting on his comfier clothes, he slid into his bed, falling soundly asleep with a fond yet tired memory passing through his head once more.

——————————————————————— You slide open the door, balancing heavy bags of groceries, a special box containing a slice of heaven for Dean, and the boys’ favourite drinks. You dropped the bags in the kitchen, unpacking them away into the cupboards and fridge. Knowing it would be a long night, you pulled out your phone and put some music on low. You then turned on the gas stove, grabbing the lighter out of the drawer to start the fire. Begin by taking out mushrooms, onions, tomatoes, and other foods, washing them before finely chopping them, and cooking them on low heat. You added seasoning and eventually smelled the delicious aroma emanating from the dish. Now you need to cook the meat.

————————————————— Each boiling drop from the shower head felt relaxing and painful as it fell onto Dean's hunched back. The heat soothed his ache, yet, the new bruises were sending another sensation of pain throughout his back. He groaned as he faced the shower head and allowed the pellets to hit his face, giving all his might to scrub away the dried-up blood and sweat embedded in his freckled skin. All he could think about was sleep, hoping to sleep as much as he could yet, knowing another case would cut his rest short. He took the white soap bar and breathed in the rose aroma it released, it reminded him of you. Dean was glad he had a girl like you in his life, no matter what was bothering his thoughts or physically torturing him, he knew he’d have you to patch him up. You were always there for Sam and him. Every time you carefully did his stitches, gave him a needed hug, fixed his tie or walked into your room, the smell would give him a sense of comfort. It reminded him of his younger days spent with his mom. It reminded him of home.

——————————————————————— You put on the blue oven kits cautiously taking out the crispy chicken from the oven. The meal was finished and so were the other dishes you made. You even had time to prepare healthy snacks and some of Sam’s favourite protein drinks. From a young age, you hated the thought of being a housewife and having to complete all the duties at home, but you knew it was the least you could do to cheer them up, adding much-needed order to their already chaotic lives. Plus, it was nothing compared to all they did for you after they took you in. You smiled as you admired the dinner table, for once looking like a normal family’s dinner table and not used as a summoning ground.

You knocked on Sam’s door to get no response, knowing the younger Winchester might’ve fallen asleep you went to go check on the other one. Knocking once again to hear a low “yeah…”. Pushing the door you see a half awake, now clean Dean, lying against the headboard watching TV.

“Hey,” you gently said. “How are you feeling?”. His eyes were still heavy with sleep but pupils dilated from insomnia. You could tell he tried sleeping but to no avail. “Listen,” you sit on the bed and see him smile a bit. “I know you’re tired but I made some food for you and Sam and you should eat. You’d sleep better with a full stomach. And I might have some pieee”. With that Dean jumped into his bunny slippers and strutted towards the kitchen in his pink nightgown. Chuckling at Dean's cuteness, stopping before leaving the room as you saw the big pile of bloodied clothes on the floor.

———————————————————————

“Hey Sam, I’m coming in.” You announced, entering the neat room, smelling a mix of pine trees and cheap cologne. You saw Sam’s large body lying on his stomach, a soft snore coming from his peaceful slumber. Quietly entering the room, you searched for his hamper, unlike the other one, Sam kept his dirty clothes in one, making it easier for you to take the clothes out of his room.

As you passed by Sam, you stood there watching him, taking advantage of the sliver of peace he was given. You put the hamper down slowly to not wake up Sam, getting on your knees, face level with Sam’s. You watched as his lips laid in a pouted style, opening once in a while to exhale, you took notes of the small moles, birthmarks and faint freckles scattered over his face like stars, noticing how perfect his nose was; never have you ever seen a perfect natural triangle. His thick dark brown eyebrows arched over his forehead symmetrically and his lashes fluttered gracefully as butterflies. His hair was your favourite part, ever since you helped take the guts out of his hair you missed the proximity and softness. His soft hair tickled the inside of your thighs and reminded you of a dog’s overgrown mane. It was beautiful to touch.

You then noticed the crevices appearing in his forehead and eye sockets. He starts to stir in his sheets, the peaceful expressions disappearing, turning into a pained one. He began making uncomfortable noises. He was going into a nightmare.

“Sam, hey wake up! Sam come on, wake up. It’s just a dream!” Sam’s head started moving side to side, the veins in his temple and neck protruding. His eyes were tightly shut and beads of sweat formed across his forehead. His hand gripped firmly onto the arm shaking his shoulder, the other gripping the the brown sheets. “SAM WAKE UP!” Shouting wouldn’t help anymore, looking around you see a cup of water on the nightstand.

——————————————————————— Sam jolted up with a gasp, cold water on his face which soaked most of his hair and nightshirt. He grasped onto as much air as possible, eyes wide trying to familiarize his surroundings. A sense of relief overcame him when he saw your concerned (e/c) eyes.

He saw how your eyes travelled over his face searching for an answer, too shocked or scared to say anything. He sighed, “Don’t tell Dean, please.”

“Ok, I won’t.” What was that, you thought to yourself, you’ve never seen this type of behaviour from him. “At least talk to me about it. You’ve been more tired than usual and it’s worrying. If you’re not gonna tell Dean, tell me.”

Sam smiled, his heart swell when he heard your confession. For once someone was listening to his struggles without ratting out to Dean.

“Um Sam…” Sam shares a confused look until you look down at your now red and numb arm. “Sorry!” Sam immediately retracts his arm away, allowing the blood to rush back to the area.

“It’s like you’ve never touched a girl before or something” you joke trying to lighten up the mood. He laughs under his breath. “Come downstairs and eat something.” You demanded as you rubbed your sore arm.

“It’s okay-“

“Sam.”

He grins his teeth as he sees your serious face. Cute, he thought.

You grab onto his large calloused hands and attempt to pull the giant out of bed, barely budging. “Oh my god, you are so friggin heavy. How are you built like a god with all that junk food?”

He jumps to his feet almost falling on top of you, your nose meeting his chest as the scent of fresh soap fills your nose. A blush rises to your skin at the proximity, looking up you see his brown eyes already staring down at you. You felt his thumb glazed over your smaller hands, which you both held onto each other. “So you think I’m built like a god huh?” Sam suggestively asks with a raised eyebrow.

Taking a quick step back, you playfully shove him away. “Haha very funny Indeed Winchester, get your ass downstairs.” Crossing your arms you wait till he exits his room, him and his footsteps disappearing into the hallway.

“(Y/n) THINKS I HAVE A HOT BODY” Sam shouts from the hallway; your eyes widen as instant embarrassment runs through your body. You hoped to god Dean didn’t hear or you’d never see the end of the teasing.

———————————————————————

You return to the kitchen to see two big babies chowing down on the meal you made, acting as if they hadn’t eaten in ages.

“(Y/n), THISH FWOOD ISH AMASHING” You barely make out the words as Dean continues to stuff his mouth with food. “What he said,” Sam says as he adds more food to his plate. You giggle as you sit next to Sam, glad to see them eating a proper meal. “Where did you even learn how to cook like this?” Dean asks. “My mom used to teach me the basics but then I picked it up more when I moved out. Haven’t cooked like this since University actually,” you answer. “So you’re gonna tell me we could’ve been eating like kings but you decided to torture us with takeout.” Dean jokes while dropping his fork on his plate. “I never hated you more.”

You burst out into laughter throwing your head back, “Please, you love me.” You say rolling your eyes. You noticed how Sam became quiet, twirling his food around a fork.

“Not as much as Sammy does,” Dean says with a devious smirk. Sam chokes on his food as you roll your eyes. “Very funny Dean” Sam glares at Dean.

“Sorry Sam but I’m off limits, too committed to (c/c).” You giggle as you jokingly twirl your hair. “He’s such a daring man dramatic sigh”.

“I’m gonna puke my food up if you keep acting like that,” Dean says with a disgusted face while trying to put even more food in his mouth.

You cheekily smile and see as Sam scoffs, taking note of the weird action. Dean gets up to put his plate away, you take this as a cue to start cleaning up the kitchen.

“Goodnight” Dean yells as he walks out the door. You and Sam both say goodnight. Then it hits you, that rascal. He left you and Sam in the kitchen alone. You can already feel the blood rushing to your ears, instead, you try to distract yourself by doing the dishes.

“Do you need help with anything?” His eyebrows knit together as he asks “Let me help clean at least.”

As much as you wanted him to rest, you couldn’t say no to him and his persuasion. Or maybe he had you wrapped around his finger. “Uh yeah, I’ll wash and you dry?” You offer pointing to the load of dishes. “Yeah, that’s great”. You grab the yellow sponge and begin scrubbing the sauces off the pots, leaving Sam to get the towel. Unmindful of you, you forget where the towels are, right in the cabinet in front of you, the towels stacked on the higher shelf. As you were about to move you felt Sam’s figure hover over your smaller frame. You freeze as you feel his body’s heat mingle with your cold body. His large hand rests on your lower back.

To another person, it could be a simple gesture, but to you, deep down you were screaming from the closeness of it all. Somehow Sam had always made you shy in his presence, you didn’t know if it was because of how smart and skilled he was that made you feel inadequate to him or how he made you weak in the knees with his beautiful…well everything. You’ve been close with other men like Dean, yet Sam’s touches and glances manage to get your cheeks red and heart pumping.

You mindlessly scrub a knife, hoping to finish the chore as soon as possible. “Ow ow ow…” you grimace in pain as the knife slices the side of your finger. You see Sam reacts quickly. Grabbing your hand and putting it under the faucet, turning on the cold water. “This looks pretty bad,” he says as he takes your hands in his. One hand holds on to your wrist while the other gently presses the cut, attempting to get as much blood out.

You could not imagine a more embarrassing moment, the one time you’re alone with Sam you embarrass yourself like a child. Yet you couldn’t ignore how Sam’s body was pressed against yours, you could feel the rough outlines in his body. The front of his leg pressed up against your butt.

“Does it hurt?” Sam asks, not looking away from the cut.

“It just stings but not too much” you reply, noticing the decreased blood spillage.

He takes your other hand and guides your fingers into mirroring his previous actions. “Don’t move I’ll be back”. His warmth fades and you stand still, waiting as the cold water cleans up your cut.

You throw your head back, groaning at your clumsiness.

——————————————————————- Hissing in pain, Sam dabs rubbing alcohol into your new cut. You’re now sitting in his room as it was the closest place with a first aid kit.

“There, all done. How does it feel?” Sam finishes wrapping a large bandaid around the wound.

“I am so much better now. Thank you, Sam.”

Sam gives you a soft smile and he cleans the area up, you watch as he picks up the remote and turns on the TV.

“I thought you were tired”

“Come on, it’s only like 10 pm. We’ll be fine.” Sam defends himself as he sits on the other side of the bed. “Come closer.” He pats the empty spot beside him.

You look stunned at what the Winchester is implying until you realize he means to lay against the headboard. You slowly get up, sitting beside Sam but leaving a good space between both your bodies.

“So what do you want to watch?” Sam asks as he starts surfing through movies on his TV.

“I’m okay with whatever.” ——————————————————————— You turn to Sam to talk to him about the climax when you realize he has dosed off. His head leaning back on the headboard, from the side it looked uncomfortable. Not knowing what to do, you decided to wait until the movie finished. ——————————————————————— You yawned as the movie neared its end, all the characters looking over the bleeding horizon as the camera zooms out. From the lack of movement, you assume Sam is still asleep. You take his phone off the nightstand and turn the do not disturb mode on, if other hunters need you, you’ll handle the case for them. He deserves some rest.

You pull out your phone to scroll through your private socials. Seeing a few edits of your (c/c) and quietly giggling to yourself. You take a glance at Sam, still dosed off. He looks better now. Wait, you look between your (c/c) and Sam. Omg, how did you not see it before? You groan internally as you stare at your phone; the long-haired, smart, well-mannered, and tall golden retriever guy. They were honestly so alike. You hoped the boys wouldn’t be able to see the resemblance.

You thought back to the moment at the table when you were gushing over (c/c) and Sam scoffed. Do you think he was jealous? No, no way. You calm yourself down before the redness reaches your face.

You felt a heavy weight shift onto your shoulder, his hair tickling the crevice of your neck. You didn’t want to wake him up by checking but it was very evident that Sam had fallen asleep on your shoulder. You could smell the sandalwood scent coming from his hair, wishing you could get more of the comforting smell.

Sam was tired and you knew it would be a big fuss if you woke him up. So, you stayed there, looking at the TV screen, trying to hold in any excitement or scream within you. The butterflies are swarming their way around your stomach. That is until you felt Sam’s arm wrap around your torso.

You stay still, unlike your body temperature which skyrockets at the sudden touch. You feel yourself being pulled towards him even more, his head snuggling dangerously close to your neck, his lips close to your skin. Sam’s hot breath created a burning sensation, your heat causing them to burn tenfold.

You weren’t gonna move, you couldn’t leave, you were stuck beside Sam for the rest of the night. You exhale trying to calm yourself; he’ll forget all about this tomorrow. This is totally what friends do. You cuddle and panic internally with Dean all the time. You couldn’t be lying more at this point. You shut your eyes, you carefully reach over to turn the nightlight off.

click

The only light was emitting from the faint blue light on the TV. Its light began to shut off as the room welcomed pure darkness.

So you lay there in the dark as you feel Sam’s body snuggled right up to yours, his arms holding you captive as his fingers twitch and graze you ever so often. This would be a dream if you guys were together. You’ve liked Sam ever since you knew him, and you love both him and Dean very much. Doing everything in your power to show how much you care for them. You just wanted Sam to love you and adore you the way you did.

You felt a wave of exhaustion hit you, and your own eyes became heavy with fatigue. Blinking slowly, you succumb to Sam’s comfort and allow your heavy head to lay on his.

[pretendingtoknowhowtowrite]

TITLE: a hot shower

TAGS: Dean Winchester x female!reader, SMUT, 18+, sexual intercourse, anal, penetrative sex, oral sex, domDean, praising kink, sex in the shower, name-calling

SUMMARY: Dean comes home while you're taking a shower. You scream as you slip and he enters the bathroom, worried for your safety. Things get hotter in an instant.

Words count: 3.2 k

WARNING: just smut, be prepared. English isn't my first language, so... apologies.

Hot water run down your body. After weeks of cleaning yourself quickly in shitty motel bathrooms, you could finally take your time and relax with a long, hot, and steamy shower inside the bunker. The boys were out as FBI agents in a nearby city, so you could relax all alone. You started playing your favorite playlist before entering and now you were singing “Daddy cool” at the top of your lungs. Your singing was pretty bad, but you didn’t care at that moment, plus, the lyrics of that song were easy to sing so it wasn’t that bad. You were lathering soap on your body while humming the next song that started playing, it was “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)” and it made you giggle. That song was one of Dean’s favorites, it was silly, like him. You found yourself smiling while washing your body. Realizing that you were ridiculously smirking for a song you snapped out of it and grunted.

The hot water was running down your face and you sat down in the shower, “fuck, I’m so stupid” you said out loud. You knew you had feelings for Dean, and that they were growing bigger every day, but you were simply ignoring them. Dean was constantly messing around with other chicks, every night, you naturally thought that a relationship between the two of you was impossible, not to mention the awkward situation that it would create in your daily hunting jobs.

But you couldn’t help it, his continuous innuendos, his lips, his voice, his arms, and his fingers often kept you awake at night. Sometimes you passed in front of his room to go to the kitchen at night and heard his noises…his moans and his heavy breathing during the night. Those sloppy sounds melted your knees each time you heard them, and you often stopped by his man cave a couple of minutes before going to your room, completely forgetting about the beer you wanted from the kitchen.

You were squeaky clean already, but you remained in the shower a little longer, enjoying the warmness hitting your body, a bit aroused because of those memories. Suddenly you hear a voice shouting “Y/N, I’m home!”, it was Dean, just him though, “Sam is at the local library to do some nerd research, but the job is pretty easy” the husky voice continued. You didn’t answer right away because you were lost in thoughts, and the man added “Y/N! Are you home? Y/N!”. The second time he pronounced your name he sounded concerned, so you finally answered, yelling “YES! TAKING A SHOWER!”, he replied with an awkward mh-mh that was closer than the words he pronounced before, he seemed…behind your door(?), he probably heard the water running and went towards that sound. The next song started playing: “Cherry Pie” and the moment the lyrics started you heard Dean singing “She’s my cherry pie / cool drink of water, such a sweet surprise/taste so good make a grown man cry / sweet cherry pie!”, he was so good at singing, his voice was so sweet … husky, and it sent a shiver down your spine. He chuckled and added, “Fuck, I love that song! You’ve got good taste, Y/N”.

You let out a laugh and stood up, but the floor was soapy, and you slipped, letting out a scream that sounded much worse than what actually happened. Dean heard you screaming and kicked the door open, you were sitting on the shower floor again, rubbing your left hip as you hit it. The moment you realized that he was standing in front of you, with a worried look and that you were completely naked, well, the situation made your cheeks red, and a rush of blood reached your inner thighs at the same moment. “Are you okay?!” Dean almost shouted while looking at your naked body, searching for an injury. The realization of what he did suddenly hit him, and he looked away, his cheeks red with embarrassment. Silence pervaded the room for a few seconds, “I’m okay” you whispered and tried to cover your body with your arms “everything is fine, I just slipped, so can you please go out?” you finished to ask this and turned to face him again, noticing a wide tent on his tight jeans. Blood rushed towards your inner thighs again, you could feel that you were getting soaked down there. Dean was still looking away, “Do you really want me to go out right now?” he said with a hushed tone and a hinted smirk on his face. Your eyes wide open, looking at him, at his body and that tent. “Because you know” he added, “I hear you stopping by my room at night. One time I checked the time and you stayed there for 5 full minutes”. You bit your lip and remained silent, not knowing what to say. He turned to look at you and his gaze was so heavy on your soaked body. “What were you doing? Touching yourself while hearing my moans? Sometimes I even moved closer to the door so you could listen properly, you know?” he said with a grin while walking closer towards you. “So, let me ask you the question again: do you want me to walk out of that door?” he asked you, now in front of you as he opened the shower door and lowered down to look into your eyes. You were still pressing your arms against your breast to cover them and keeping your thighs shut to hide something. You looked into his eyes and whispered “N-no…please don’t go”. He grinned and went to pull the door over to keep the steam in, took off the white shirt, and went back to you. “Good girl” he said “Don’t lie to yourself. I could hear those moans from behind the door and you often helped me finish. They sounded so sweet and so desperate”, he took you up and lowered himself down to quickly check your left hip. “You’re gonna have a bruise there. Well maybe… not only in that spot after this” he said looking up at your face, with a smirk. He stood up and got closer to your face, your lips basically touching. You couldn’t stop looking at his eyes like they were magnets. He kissed you deeply and held your waist, sinking his hands in your skin. You let out a moan of pleasure the exact moment his tongue melted inside your mouth. Waves of warmth reached your pussy, you were a puddle down there. He stopped kissing you only to go for your neck, he started licking your neck and leaving his marks all over it, biting it softly and grunting while doing so.  Feeling Dean so eager to touch you melted you, melted your knees and your brain as you couldn’t think straight anymore. “baby, you should speak more” he said “use your big girl words and tell me what you dreamed about those nights”, he grinned and pressed his body against your wet one. You could feel his big bulge against your skin “I-I thought about you. I thought about how would it feel to have your fingers inside my – my tight cunt” you finally said, not believing that you confessed that. He giggled and went down on his knees, his face was now at the same level as your slit, he spread your pussy lips open and moaned as he saw how wet you were. He immediately found you’re already hardened clit and started circumnavigating it with his thick fingers. You let a moan escape your throat and tried to cover it with your hand. Dean reached for your wrist and let your mouth free “Oh no Baby, I wanna hear those moans” he added and proceed to stick out his tongue near your

cunt. He grabbed your thighs and spread your legs open. A satisfied moan came out of his mouth and he sunk his tongue inside your pussy. His hot and experienced tongue melted inside you and you couldn’t help but moan as he knew which spots to search for. He kept pinching and stroking your clit to hear your moans intensify. You could feel his tongue going up and down inside of you and he kept moving around. You started shaking and he started stroking your clit faster to make you cum while his tongue was inside of you. You did, you cummed and you were in pure bliss already. He took his tongue out and licked all your cunt one more time. “You taste so sweet” he said, almost growling, and stood up to kiss you. Your juices and his saliva melted inside your mouth, that was one of the sexiest things ever at that moment. As he kissed you he pushed two of his digits deep inside you and started searching for your g-spot. He reached it sooner than expected and you trembled and arched your back, resting your head against his shoulder. “here it is” he whispered in your ear, and started pushing and stroking it with his fingers, he added one more digit and a big moan escaped from your mouth. “Good girl, let yourself go for me, cum again for me… cum on my fingers” he added while keeping your body pressed to his. His sweat started to pervade the room and that smell sent you to heaven. You started moaning and shouting his name while trembling on his fingers. You could feel his bulge pressed against your stomach, all those feelings made you cum as he whispered your name in your ear, juices started dripping down your thighs, your knees started weakening and your pussy was twitching around his digits. He smiled at you and kissed you deeply. He took his fingers out, covered in your juices. He stared at them for a couple of seconds, grinning, and then sucked his fingers off while looking at you. That scene was so fucking arousing and you couldn’t help but whine “please Dean, more”. He grabbed you closer and started unbuttoning his pants which he quickly threw on the floor. He was in his boxers now, you could see the size of his bulge and the sticky precum drenching his underwear. He pressed his body against yours and turned on the hot water “you’re cold, let’s keep you warm. I don’t want you to catch a cold” He said and proceeded to kiss you while sliding his hands all around your body, caressing your breasts and holding your waist. Hot water was running down your bodies and Dean started pinching your already hard nipples, he started kissing your neck again and slowly moved down, he started sucking your tits, pinching them, biting them, and leaving marks on your body. You couldn’t help but moan in pleasure, your legs started shaking again. Dean’s hot dick was pressing against your waist. You went down on your knees to see it and because you couldn’t stand anymore. Once you were sitting down you pulled down his boxers, his cock firm against your face. You gasped as you saw it, the bulge was big but you didn’t think it was like that. He looked down at you and moved his hips towards you, slamming his hard cock against your cheeks, his precum stuck to your face. His smell and his moans were too much for you and you started sucking him off. In the beginning, you wrapped your tongue around his tip, and the taste of his precum pervaded your mouth. You were going slow and taking your time around his dick, but it was too slow for Dean. He started moving his hips and you felt his cock going down your throat, you moaned and your pussy was drenched again. He looked down at you moaning your name, swearing, and breathing heavily “Fuck, you’re so beautiful” he said when your eyes met, and you could feel him twitching inside your mouth. He moved harder than before, he was basically mouthfucking you, he started to hold your head between his huge hands, and he pushed you towards his body. You left out gripes of pleasure and felt your cunt burning, you wanted that but between your thighs.

You looked into his eyes while he was moving and he stopped “Oh Y/N, if you look at me like that, I’m gonna melt” he whined and let go of your face. He pulled his cock out of your mouth and lowered himself down to kiss you one more time. This time it was his juice and your saliva melting together in your passionate kiss. You got up and he followed you while holding your waist, not letting you go for an instant. He turned you around and you rested on the shower wall, he could see your back now, he stared at your ass and folded it with his hands, spreading your ass cheeks apart, you let a moan out, “Dean, please stop teasing me” you whimpered, almost begging him to put it in. He slid his hand down on your back, reached for your butt, slapped it, and then quickly put his fingers in your pussy again, just for a couple of seconds, and then pushed one digit in your ass. “Fuck” you exclaimed while moaning. You whimpered but the pain mixed with the excitement was so arousing, you would have taken him everywhere at that moment. He kept moving his finger in and outside your ass and whispered in your ear “Oh sweetheart, but I love seeing you getting so excited for me. And I didn’t even shove my dick inside of you yet”, you could feel his grin against your ear and he bit your earlobe as he thrust another finger inside you. You moaned his name and felt juices dripping down your thighs. Dean could have done anything to you, you would have accepted it. “I really don’t know in which hole I should put it, which one Y/N?” he said in a hushed tone. “P-Please Dean” you replied, “in my cunt” you said between one moan and another. He sighed, “Since you asked it so kindly, I guess I will baby girl, but I’m gonna fill you up even here later” he added while pushing another digit in your ass. You let out a scream and moaned deeply. He took his fingers out and pushed his tip against your pussy lips, feeling how hot and wet you were. “You really want this, uh?” he said giggling “tell me how much though.”. He was waiting for your response as he kept rubbing his tip against your cunt, up and down… slowly. “I’m begging you Dean; I really really want it inside” you whined while moving your hips. “Good girl” he growled and pushed his dick inside of you. Your cunt twitched the moment it felt his cock. “Fuck, you’re so tight for me” he said and started moving his hips while holding your waist. That pleasure was driving you crazy and you were moaning his name like a chant. You whispered “harder”, and his cock twitched a bit, his pace increased, and you started yelling instead of moaning. Every thrust was a moment of bliss but the second he started rubbing your clit while thrusting inside of you made you lose it.

You started trembling, shivers went down your spine and you screamed his name, your knees weak again in an instant. “You did so good, cumming around my cock” he told you and stopped moving “But we’re not finished yet” added. He pulled out his dick and started rubbing it against your ass again, slamming it against the line between your cheeks. He moaned and told you ”I don’t want to do this if you don’t feel like it. Just tell me Y/N”. his tip pressed against your ass. The pleasure and lust filled your mind, you turned your face to see his face, the water was dripping on it, and his mouth was open, breathing heavily, a desiring look on his face. “Oh fuck it” you said and lift your left leg so he could go on “just go slow at the beginning, ok?”. “Of course baby” he said with a jubilant tone, then he proceeded to slowly push his dick in your ass, giving it time to adjust to his width “you’re so tight. I’m gonna cum in minutes if it’s like this” he moaned and whimpered. A gasp and a choked scream left your mouth, it was painful but the thought of having him everywhere was so arousing that you simply couldn’t stop. He pushed in slowly and finally all his length was inside of you, “fuck” he kept moaning and started to slowly move in and out. Your moans became one and he started speeding up his pace. You could feel him twitching in your gut, he started holding your breast while moving his hips, but his hands quickly run down and reached your clit again, he started making eights on it and your legs started trembling. His cock inside of you, his fingers touching you, his breath echoing in your ear. It was too much. You were so close to cum again and so was he. He started thrusting inside of you faster, deeper, harder, and let out a moan, mumbling “I’m gonna cu-“, he couldn’t finish the sentence as you felt his hot semen filling you up. He kept moving and you felt his cum dripping down your tights, now working as a lube, he didn’t let go of your clit either, wanting you to cum one more time before stopping. He wanted to give you pleasure and that thought made you cum again, your legs were shaking once again. He finally stopped and rested his body against yours, panting heavily.  “Fuck” you both said, he pulled out and hugged you from behind, water running down your faces. The two of you were in pure bliss. “I- I think I love you” he mumbled in your ear while tightening the grip around your body. “I think so too” you whispered, not believing what just happened. You turned around and hugged him, he looked at you with a gentle smile and then added “Did I hurt you? I- I’m sorry, I got carried away and you were so beaut-“ you laid one finger against his lips “shush, it was unbelievable” you giggled and smiled at him. “We should probably take a shower now” he chuckled and took the soap in his hand, “Let me wash your back” he added. “Oh yes, we should” you replied with a smirk on your face, you turned on your back and he started lathering the soap. “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)” started playing again, and the playlist restarted. You laughed and Dean started to sing that dumb song. You rubbed his back clean after. You took care of each other, washing each other’s hair and rinsing the soap from your bodies.

That was one of the many times Dean Winchester and you had some alone time.

[maliciouslove]

𝔼𝕏𝕋ℝ𝔸ℂ𝕌ℝℝ𝕀ℂ𝕌𝕃𝔸ℝ 𝔸ℂ𝕋𝕀𝕍𝕀𝕋𝕀𝔼𝕊

NSFW—college AU, aged up characters (21+) || minors, ageless and/or empty blogs DO NOT INTERACT!

pairing // itadori yuuji x professor!reader 

summary // you’re having a particularly rough week and your student yuuji’s childish and nonchalant behaviour towards his failing grades and missing assignments is simply the last straw, forcing you to snap and teach the brat a lesson. for some extra credit, of course. :)

word count // 5.1k

tags // power imbalance, mean dom!reader, sub!yuuji, dubcon (tagging non-con just in case), forced masturbation (m!receiving), blackmail, recorded masturbation (m!receiving), cockwarming a dildo (m!receiving), little to no preparation penetration (m!receiving) sexual favours for extra credit, oral (f!receiving), dacryphilia, slight degradation, humiliation, praise, use of the title ‘professor’,  hair pulling, spit as lube, cum play, unprotected sex, creampie

AN // and the reposting continues! reading this again reminded me that i love writing submissive men. a very long time ago @/cyancherub beta read this for me, and I am still eternally grateful :) <3

You’ve been having a very shit week so far—your car broke down on Monday and the guys at the repair shop told you it’s going to be at least three days before it’s fixed, and the price they charged for their services also didn’t help with your mood. 

Furthermore, on Tuesday you found out your health insurance claim didn’t go through, adding yet another expense that you have to worry about. Your poor wallet can’t handle all the damage it’s taking. 

You would think you could’ve gotten some peace and quiet when you got home on Wednesday, but no—you walked into your apartment only to find your new couch and all the pillows completely destroyed by your dog. Pillow filling and pieces of cloth scattered all across the living room as your dog was now laying in his bed, looking up at you innocently, as if he didn’t just destroy an extremely expensive couch. 

Thursday was no breeze either, as you started your day by spilling a venti sized caramel macchiato all over your white dress shirt. Walking into your meeting with the dean of the school covered in coffee was embarrassing enough, but when he started chewing you out for the low grade point average in your class, you were just about ready to cry. 

But you clenched your fists and bit your tongue, refusing to show weakness to anyone. It was just a bad week, it too would pass. 

There is only one day of the week left, and after that, you can indulge yourself over the weekend and take time to relax and de-stress. Only Friday left… but boy, you’re not looking forward to this Friday. Why?

Because you have to teach a class with him—Itadori Yuuji, your most annoying student. Yuuji is by no means unintelligent or incapable, no—but he is, however, an asshole. A petulant child that firmly believes he can get away with anything simply because he is handsome and charming. He is the type of guy to enter the classroom 20 minutes late and simply smile and wink at you; no apology, no explanation. Just a cocky 24-karat smile. He talks loud, voices all of his opinions, and doesn’t really care about anyone or anything. 

Now apparently he has decided to stop handing in his assignments, which in turn creates another problem for you. You could, of course, choose to ignore him and simply let him flunk, but that would mean two things: first, he would have to repeat the class, meaning you would have to see more of him, and second, it would give the dean one more reason to be angry with you and punish you for “bringing down the grade average of the entire institution”. 

So this Friday you’re planning on pulling him aside after class and having a serious discussion with him about his grades and work ethic. You have been lenient enough with him over the past few months, choosing to ignore his attitude and simply focus your attention on the students who actually wanted to be there, but that has to come to an end. What you’re less willing to admit to yourself, is that you’re very anxious about the conversation you’ll have with him. What will you say? What if he mocks you? What if he keeps that irritating everything-is-a-joke attitude? But the scariest thought of all: What if I finally snap? Maybe I should teach that little brat a lesson. 

So here you are, laying in your bed awake way past your bedtime, anxiously pondering over the events that might unfold tomorrow. It’s going to be a long day. 

2:37 PM

The days are surely growing shorter and colder. Grey clouds are hanging heavy over your head, ready to rain down on you any moment now. There are 23 minutes left until class begins, so you grab a quick cup of coffee to go and you head on over to the classroom, mulling over what to say to Yuuji, practising different scenarios in your head. For some reason, the majority of these scenarios end up with Yuuji tied up and sobbing, spanked raw and begging for forgiveness. You shake your head, trying to get rid of these thoughts. Trying to shake away the urge to break the strawberry-haired man. He would look so cute crying though. 

By the time class starts at 3:00 PM you’re halfway through your coffee, slightly starting to regret having more than two cups that day because it’s making you antsy. You take a final sip and greet your students, making a mental note of the fact that for once Yuuji is on time. The lesson goes smoothly, but you can’t help noticing that Yuuji never seems to be paying attention; never really even looking towards the big screen behind you where important slides containing assignment details were shown. Almost like he’s avoiding looking at you. 

Finally, class is over, the room filling with the sounds of chairs being pulled and students chatting amongst each other. You call Yuuji over, secretly glad that none of the other students are paying attention and simply rolling out of the classroom one by one. Itadori slings his backpack over his shoulder and saunters over to your desk, hands in his pockets, a certain pep in his step. 

“Whaddup, Y/N?” he grins, not a care in the world.

“It’s miss L/N to you. And I need to speak with you about your last assignment, the one you never handed in.” You don’t even look up from the pile of papers on your desk that you were busying yourself with in an attempt to remain composed. 

“Oh yeaaah, there was an assignment, wasn’t there? Oops.” His stupid smile never falters. The irritation is bubbling in your chest and it tastes bitter in your mouth; the papers in your hands crinkle under the force of your fingers. 

“Yup, there was, and it was worth 40% of your final grade. That means you are facing the possibility of failing this class, Mr. Itadori.” Your voice is cold and calculated, all traces of irritation erased—you’re all business. You are his teacher, you need to keep things professional, no room for emotions, especially emotions that will not improve the situation in any way, such as anger. 

You finally look up at the strawberry-haired boy, only to find him staring, but not at you. His brown eyes were fixated on the collar of your tight shirt, the top two buttons undone, showing off your soft skin and collarbones. The shirt itself doesn’t reveal a lot, but it’s tight, the outline of your bra quite visible up close. He swallows and looks away quickly, but not fast enough for you to not notice his quite obvious interest. 

“I’m sorry Mr. Itadori, are my breasts more interesting to you right now?” You arch an eyebrow, the irritation that was growing inside of you finally reaching your voice too. The audacity this brat has.  

“I- no... I- m’sorry” he stutters. Yuuji Itadori, Mr. Charming and Almighty, was flustered. How interesting. The scenarios your mind conjured earlier are suddenly flooding your brain again and you can’t help but wonder… could you make him even more flustered? 

“Listen here Yuuji, this is basically sexual harassment, you know. I’m trying to help you here, have a serious conversation about your situation, yet all you can do is stare at my tits. Now, what do you think I should do about this, hm?” 

He opens his mouth in an attempt to say something, to argue, to come up with some witty comeback—yet no sound comes out. After a long, uncomfortable pause he finally mumbles a barely audible m’sorry, fixating his gaze on the floor. Some sick, twisted part of you finds this adorable. The corners of your lips curve upwards just barely. 

“What exactly are you sorry for, Yuuji?” There is a teasing lilt to your voice, the use of his first name completely throwing him off guard. He looks at you with big eyes, once again unable to form a response.

“For, uh- … for always staring at you inappropriately.. a-and fantasizing.” He gulps loudly, mouth suddenly feeling all too dry. His little confession is a surprise to you, but you don’t let it show. You maintain a neutral face, studying him closely. You can see him get even more nervous under your gaze. 

“Always?” you pause, eyebrow raised quizzically. “Fantasizing?” tilting your head slightly to the side, your eyes never leave his. Your presence only grows, asserting its dominance over his. The boy that usually towers over you and always has a carefree, happy-go-lucky attitude, suddenly looks very small to you. A blush is creeping up his neck and cheeks, proof that he really is feeling flustered. 

“Huh.. so you fantasize about your teacher?” you smirk, several sinister ideas flooding your brain as you look at the boy in front of you shrink even more. “You can get in a lot of trouble for this… Mr. Itadori.” Gracefully you get out of your chair, moving to sit at the end of your desk, shortening the distance between you and your student. “If word got out, administration would have to remove you from my class—you would lose all credits you’ve obtained thus far in my class and you would have to pick a different course in order to obtain those credits again.” Your eyes travel up his body, slowly, undressing him in your mind. “That would be a lot of work, Mr. Itadori. Don’t you think?”

Not trusting his ability to speak right now, he simply nods. There is apprehension in his eyes, but also curiosity.  

“Perhaps we can work this out? Resolve our… conflict, as to avoid getting administration involved.” 

You hear the gears turning in his head, mulling over all the possibilities, mind racing and his heart pounding loudly in his chest. “Resolve… how?” 

You can barely contain yourself at how small his voice is, how unsure. The boy that usually gleamed with confidence and strides down the corridors as if he owns them is suddenly unable to look you straight in the eye. 

“Well, Mr. Itadori, I am a teacher after all. I think it would be best if I teach you a lesson about how it feels to be objectified. To be seen as nothing more than a pretty face, or hot body.” Your hand darts forward, now toying with the hem of his shirt. Yuuji is holding his breath as if the tiniest movement could drive you away. “Relax, Mr. Itadori, it’s just a lesson. You will benefit from it. Just do as I tell you and this little incident will be forgotten.” You pull him in by the collar of his t-shirt, his face now inches away from yours. A coy smile plays on your lips as you practically feast over the expression painted on his face at this moment. Surprise, desire and fear mixed all together, making his coffee-coloured eyes water slightly. But a breathy okay leaves his lips, eyes transfixed on yours as you push him backwards to sit in a chair. 

“Clothes off. Don’t talk unless I ask you a question. Understand?” 

Yuuji mutters a quick “yes,” fingers already hooking under his sweats, pulling them down as you lock the door to your classroom and make sure there is no way to peek inside the room. Lucky for you, most classes also end early on Friday, so the building is surely almost completely empty by now. 

Yuuji’s heart rate picks up with each clank of your heels against the wooden parquet as you head on over back to the desk, once again sitting on its edge, arms crossed over your chest. Here he is, strawberry hair dishevelled, chest exposed and if you look closely enough, you can see the vibrations on his skin as his heart hammers wildly against his ribcage. All he has left on were his over-the-calf white Nike socks and his banana print boxers. The outline of his dick making your mouth water, already semi-hard even though nothing has really happened so far. 

“Show me what you do when you fantasize about me. Tell me what you think about. I want to know how exactly you objectify me… how often.” Your voice is quiet but commanding, distant yet curious. It takes him a moment to gather the courage to go through with what you ask of him, but he finally palms himself over his boxers, not daring to look at you, but opening his mouth to speak. 

“I- I often imagine what you look like under your clothes. What kind of l-lingerie you wear...” his voice falters at the end, the blush creeping up his face betraying him. But quite visibly, blood isn’t rushing only to his face. His eyes are shut and eyebrows pinched together, but he keeps on talking, just like you asked him to. “I think about you masturbating… Like I do almost every night. I-I think about eating you out and I imagine how you taste, what you look like.” He is gripping his now fully erect cock under the cloth of his boxers, and the whole view is just so delicious. His little confessions go straight to your clit, desire taking you over. You take your phone out and quickly open your camera, switching to video and turning it on.

“Go on, don’t hold back.” 

He keeps his eyes shut, but his hand movements get braver. In an instant, his big calloused hand dives under his boxers to pull out his heavy cock, the elastic band of his underwear resting under his balls. He’s already leaking, a pearly bead of precum sliding down his shaft, right next to a big juicy vein. You zoom in with your camera, making sure to catch all the details. 

“I imagine how tight you’d feel when you cream around my cock.” At these words he squeezes his length harder, a tiny whimper escaping his lips and it makes your heart twist and your insides burn. You just know the stretch of his cock will be delicious. You know he’d feel so good. The thought alone has you clenching around nothing and you slide a hand under your skirt, fingers pressing over your clit as a shudder travels your spine. 

“Yeah? You wanna do all those things to me, Mr. Itadori? You want to see me naked, taste me, feel me? Tell me how much you want it.” You’re focusing the camera on his face now, capturing his face contorting in pleasure and need. Hand stroking his dick faster now, smearing the pre all across his length. He doesn’t really need to say how much he wants that as it becomes evident from the vigour in his strokes, but you want to hear him anyway. “Tell me, use your words, baby boy.” The nickname sets him off, all the moans he’d been staving off finally surfacing. 

“S’much… it’s all I can think about. Every time I come to class my mind… w-wanders, mmgh.” His chest is heaving, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he fucks his fist wishing it was you, eyes still tightly shut. “Even now… I really am imagining that you’re jacking me off… it’s so fucking h-hot.” 

It would be a lie to say that your hands weren’t itching to touch him, to make him writhe and squirm and beg. But that would have to wait. Right now, you just want to see him cum. 

“Mmm, and how do these little daydreams of yours end, hm? Wanna show me?” It takes Yuuji only a few more strokes before his orgasm washes over him, abdomen muscles tightening, hot thick cum spurting over his chest and tummy, some even landing on his chin. His breathing is erratic and his heart feels like it's trying to break a hole through his ribcage. Finally, he cracks an eye open, gaze immediately landing on the phone in your hands. 

Stopping the video and tossing the phone aside, you stride over to him and card your fingers through his hair, slightly pulling his head back to look him in the eyes. Amongst all the emotions he’s feeling, fear is the most prominent right now. His eyes are watering again, and you quiver at the sight. 

“Call it an eye for an eye. One video for me to keep in exchange for all the times you’ve stared at me, imagining how good I would actually feel. If you behave, the video stays in my possession only. So be good f’me Yuuji, yea? Can you do that?” 

He nods his head quickly, too quickly for his own liking, but he dares not to disobey. His submission pleases you so you ease your grip on his hair, deft fingers sliding down the side of his face and tracing his sharp jawline. 

"You know Mr. Itadori, we’re not quite done here yet. I still need to discuss the possibility of you failing my class. I was thinking of assigning you some extra credit work to make up for the assignment you didn’t hand in… if you’d like to stay in my class-" 

He cuts you off. “P-Please… I want to do the extra credit work. Please, I-I’ll do good, I’ll make up for my bad grades, ‘promise.” The puppy eyes he gives will simply be the death of you. You smile and rub soft circles with your thumb on his cheek. 

Straightening up,  you walk away from him heading towards your desk, fingers running through the wooden surface and landing on your briefcase. "I really, really dislike brats, you know. And I absolutely will not tolerate more mistakes like this from you, Mr. Itadori. No more attitude. No more slacking off."

There’s an edge to your voice, a coldness emanating from it, and it sends shivers down his spine. Unconsciously he swallows, tongue darting out to swipe at his bottom lip. Even for him, it’s hard to tell if he’s scared or aroused. Or maybe both. But what he is sure of is that you’re commanding all of his attention right now. He would do anything for your approval.

“To ensure you actually complete the assignment and don’t flunk out of my class, I will be monitoring your work. And you will do it right here, where I can see you.” The briefcase is now open, your hands rummaging in it, fingers wrapping around the object you’re looking for. “You’re going to use some tools to further… motivate you.” Your grin is wicked as you pull out a pink silicone dildo from your briefcase. Smiling at your student, your tongue presses itself flat against the dildo, licking a slow stripe from shaft to tip.

"You said you’ll be good, right? Promised you’ll do the extra credit… Still feeling up for the task?" You're now walking back to him and his eyes grow wider with fear. He's never done this before. He tries to swallow the lump in his throat as you sit down on his lap but to no avail. His mind is going completely blank, but his dick is acting on its own accord, becoming hard again pressed up against your ass.

“I want to do the extra credit, professor. Please?” The words are almost a whisper, the sound of his heart drowning out the sound. You chuckle and present the dildo to his lips in a silent command which he obeys, wrapping his lips around the tip of the dildo. 

"Ah, so you can obey orders, well that's a relief. Because I have a tall order coming for you." You shove the dildo all the way down his throat, tears immediately pooling in his eyes, the only noise coming from him being muffled moans and gagging. "So listen up, brat—you're going to take this dildo like a big boy and cockwarm it for me as you write your assignment right here, right now. Where I can see you." 

He can’t verbally give you an answer with the dildo shoved down his throat, so he nods, trying to hold off his gag-reflex, a single tear rolling down his cheek. 

You don’t even think about it as you lean closer, tongue darting out to collect the stray tear, the salty taste of it making you hum in delight. You remove the dildo from his mouth, a clear string of saliva connecting his lips and the pink tip of the dildo, which you simply hand to him. It’s his extra credit work after all, he should do all the work himself if he wants a good grade. 

This time you drag your chair from behind your desk and position it across Yuuji’s, giving you a perfect view of the show he’s about to put on for you. With shaky hands he positions the dildo on the chair, making sure the suction cup at the bottom is well attached. You could see him think through every move he makes, taking his laptop out, positioning everything so that he could attempt to write while he cockwarms the dildo. 

The strawberry-colour haired man takes a final unsure look at you as if seeking confirmation, but even he can’t deny the excitement he feels deep down. The primal need to please you, show you he can be a good boy too, for you and you only. Lifting one leg over his desk, he gives you a perfect view of his round ass, puckered hole already clenching in anticipation. Two of his long fingers push past his lips, tongue sloppily covering them in saliva that he plans on using as lube. Those same fingers, now covered in a layer of spit, rub soft circles over his puckered hole, lightly teasing and prodding while he gets used to the sensation. 

One finger finally pushes past his ring muscle, a wanton moan escaping his pretty lips. The sound is heavenly and you just want to hear more. To see more. Slightly parting your legs, you let your right hand travel up your thigh and toy with the hem of your lacy panties, enjoying Yuuji’s reaction. The little display you’re making for him is really fuelling him further. Not even a minute later, he’s sinking a second finger in his greedy hole, sounding more and more desperate, each moan and whimper a treasure for you. 

Spitting on the dildo again, this time nasty and unabashed, mind hazy from lust, Yuuji finally positions himself over the pink dildo, the tip resting right over his hole. One more glance in your direction and he sinks down an inch, the tip pushing past his muscle, the stretch immediately filling his eyes with more tears. But he ignores the weird feeling, ignores the pain, and simply focuses on the pleasure. The more he sinks down on the dildo, the more you toy with your pussy, panties now pushed aside to give him a better view. Fingers sliding up and down the slit, collecting your essence and smearing it all over, gentle circles with your middle finger over your clit. 

Halfway down the dildo, Yuuji opts to slide back up, and then down again, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth hanging open in pleasure. He was not expecting it to feel this good, the fullness making him slightly dizzy. One hand gently strokes over his sensitive cock, the feeling making him shiver. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” In response to his puzzled look you simply nod over to his laptop, reminding him that he is supposed to be writing an assignment. “Just write an essay on any topic that we’ve covered in class… or did you not retain anything from our classes because you were too busy being a pervert?” At these words, you slide two fingers inside you, knuckles deep, pumping them in and out slowly. 

After staring dumbfoundedly for a few seconds, his shaky fingers pull the laptop closer and he begins to type. It’s adorable to watch him struggle to remain concentrated on the task at hand, with the dildo filling him up perfectly and with the sounds you’re making as you fuck yourself on your fingers… poor Yuuji can barely keep it together. Even though he’s sunk all the way down on the dildo and knows he’s supposed to stay still, he can’t help the little thrusts of his hips against the silicone cock. 

Around 10 minutes has passed since Yuuji started his attempt at writing an essay, but it’s becoming more and more difficult for him to focus, not with the tip of the dildo pressing up against his prostate, making his thighs quiver and his breath hitch. He needs relief; he can’t write like this. And you know this all too well, your own desire taking over you completely, temporarily forgetting how you got in this situation in the first place. Screw it.

“P-please, professor.. I need..” 

Before he can finish his sentence you’re already on his lap, lips pressed to his in a heated, sloppy kiss. You can’t hold it in anymore; you want to feel him. His lips feel soft against yours, but his tongue feels sinister as it dances against yours. Moving his laptop to the side, you sit on top of the desk and spread your legs for Yuuji, pussy glistening with your slick and on full display for the boy. 

“An orgasm or two might put you in my good graces?” you suggest and spread your pussy lips with two fingers, watching as Yuuji practically drools over the sight. He doesn’t need to be asked twice, still impaled on the dildo he bends forward, tongue darting out to lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit. The taste of you drives him feral, lips latching onto your clit and sucking hard, mouth hard at work to coax more moans out of you. To taste more of you. To him, you’re truly intoxicating. As his tongue works feverishly against your folds, constant praise falls from your lips. That’s my good boy, fuck yes, right t-there. 

“Move your hips, ride that cock baby boy.” You’re so close to your own release, it’s suffocating you. A few more flicks of his tongue over your sensitive bud and you’re coming undone under him, legs shaking violently as your mind floods with overwhelming pleasure and your pussy flutters. Yuuji’s greedy mouth is ready to swallow all your slick, hungrily lapping at your cunt, the obscene squelch of his tongue against your wetness filling the room. 

Pushing him away just enough to sit back in his lap, your hands wrap around his length, pumping it languidly. His hips slow down but he doesn’t dare stop moving up and down the dildo, he doesn’t dare disobey you. Catching his lips in another kiss you guide his cock to your slit, rubbing it up and down, collecting all your arousal. Slowly you sink down on his cock, eyes rolling back at the feeling of his fat meaty cock stretching you out, your tight hole hugging him perfectly. 

And Yuuji could cum from this alone, from finally feeling your warmth and wetness around him, squeezing him for all he’s worth. You feel so much better than he could ever imagine. With you hovering over his lap enough to give him space to bounce up and down, impaling himself on the silicone cock, and simultaneously drilling upwards into your welcoming heat. The feeling is so overwhelming; his movements are sloppy, and he’s constantly babbling incoherent words, hands gripping your waist tight enough to bruise. And as you look down at him all you can think about is how gorgeous he looks all fucked out.

Your hand snakes down your body, middle finger expertly rubbing tight circles over your clit, pussy immediately clamping down even harder on his dick. A second orgasm was approaching and Yuuji can feel that, the way your walls flutter around him, how much louder you’re getting. All he has to do is hold off his orgasm for a while more. He angles his hips and pistons up into your cavern, the tip of his leaky cock ramming against your cervix in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Right there is all you can repeat, teetering on the edge of your second orgasm, a few good strokes being the last push you need before you stumble over and drown in the pleasure once more. Yuuji follows right after, sinking all the way down on the dildo and pushing you down his length to completely bottom out inside you as he empties his balls, thick cum spurting right against your cervix. You can feel how full of cum you are, the thick sticky substance dribbling down your thigh. 

After a few moments of silence, the two of you just staying close and trying to catch your breath, you finally speak. 

“You know, you will actually have to write at least one essay for me for that extra credit, consider this just your… motivation to actually get it done. At the end of the day, I’d rather you not fail, Yuuji.” 

You did it again, you used his first name. The softness to your voice makes his heart twist, and he knows he has to live up to the promise he made. 

“And this stays between us.” 

You didn’t really need to tell him that, he knows how badly things could turn out if anyone found out, but he gives you his word. He doesn’t dare say anything else out of fear that anything he says might ruin the magic. One wrong move could sully this moment forever, and this is a memory he’ll cherish for a long time. So he tucks his flaccid cock in his boxers and puts on his clothes, gathering his things and heading for the door. He pauses for a second and turns around for one last look. 

“Miss L/N.. uhm, thank you for giving me an opportunity for that extra credit. And uh, I don’t mean the sex. The actual extra credit. I know I can be difficult, so I appreciate this a lot.” 

You smile and wave him off, telling him there’s nothing to be thankful for. You remind him to hand in his essay before the following Friday and you say your goodbyes. 

There’s a slight empty feeling budding inside you, missing the attention of the younger boy, but ultimately you realize you had completely forgotten about the stress of the week; and there was an undeniable pep in Yuuji’s step as he made his way home that night... Today was truly a good day, for both of you. 

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.

all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.

[sadisticsongbird]

playing god's game ~ coriolanus snow

three

warnings: coryo throwing a temper tantrum and FINALLY some tension, swearing here and there

word count: 4.1k, shes a long one

a/n: THANK YOU AGAIN for all of the love and support that you guys have given this series so far. i am so blessed to be a part of this fandom and have readers that enjoy my work. (you guys aren't ready for the coming chapters)

a/n part two: if you would like to be added to the taglist for this series, please fill out this form. all of the information is anonymous if you are worried about that, but otherwise, HAPPY READING!

series masterlist

All eyes felt like they were on you as you disconnected from the crowd of students and moved towards the front. Your hands grasped the strap on your bag, knuckles begging to turn white from the grip. As you passed by the 23 and stood in front of the Dean, you were sure you were dreaming. 

“Ms. Stillwater, please. Have a seat.”

You hesitated as you turned away from Highbottom and spotted the empty seat directly behind Sejanus next to Festus Creed. You made your way over, sure to avoid the glares being directed at you as you placed yourself amongst the group, feeling awfully out of place. The red uniform was an eyesore amongst the expensive suits and custom dresses. You set your bag down under your chair, careful not to cause commotion. 

“You are all hear, eager to learn what your final task will be and who's won that Plinth Prize, no doubt. And a golden future. However, as you know, there has been a change this year. One final assignment to prove your worth. Because…” 

The dean paused, almost as if he was about to regret his words. “...the esteemed citizens of the Capitol have grown bored of the Games and simply aren't watching anymore. And if the Games are to continue at all, there must be an audience. So, Head Gamemaker Dr. Gaul has stepped in to...incentivize patriotic values with her own unique flair, starting with you. The Plinth Prize will no longer be determined by who has the best grades.”

“Excuse me?” Arachne whispered in front of you. 

A gasp resounded in the auditorium. If this project had nothing to do with grades, what then would determine the Plinth Prize winner. And what did Dr. Gaul’s presence have to do with anything? The mumbling continued as the dean kept speaking. 

“But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games.”

The room seemed to deafen as all of the 24 students stiffened. You could’ve sworn you saw Festus choke beside you. Your eyes bore into the back of Sejanus’s head. He had to have known that this was it. It was no wonder he was in such a mood this morning. Over and over, every year, he dreads this day, knowing that he should be amongst his old peers in District 2, awaiting his name to be drawn as well. But the fact that he was here and that there was nothing that he could do to stop it had adrenaline running through his veins. You so desperately wanted him to turn around and face you, but the way that his face was turned down towards the ground told you that he couldn’t look anyone in the eye. 

“This is a brand new role. As the Reaping progresses live, I will allocate each district tribute a Capitol mentor behind the scenes, one who must just persuade them to perform for the cameras,” the dean continued. 

“Obviously, the best mentor will be the one whose tribute wins the Games,” Festus argued. 

Sitting ahead of you, Arachne Crane also spoke up. “What if I get a pathetic runt girl from one of the poor districts, like 8 or 12? They're just gonna die in two minutes like they did last year and the year before.”

You hadn’t even thought about that yet. Just the matter of having to mentor a tribute made your heart stop. This was all coming to you too soon. Just last night, you had thought that your future was over, but now, here you sat, waiting for your name to be called alongside a tribute like an auction. 

“Your role is to turn these children into spectacles, Ms. Crane. Not survivors,” Highbottom enunciated the last word. “Victory in the Games is only one of our considerations. Your entire future rests on this last project. Oh, and I must tell you that anyone caught cheating to give their tributes an unfair advantage,” he laughs, “will just have no future at all.”

A brass anthem played above the dean's words, announcing the start of the Reaping. The screens above the podium where Dr Gaul stood moments before turned on, bringing all the students a live feed from the district stages as the Reapings progressed. Highbottom sat down on the stairs in front of Coriolanus, drawing your eyes to his rigid form. He seemed immoveable, head held high as he waited for his assignment. 

“District 1. Boy goes to Livia Cardew.” 

A slight applause sounded as the girl across the room from you blushed and gasped to her friends sitting beside her. 

“Girl goes to Palmyra Monty. District 2 boy.” The dean paused, seemingly trying to hold in a small laugh. “How apt. Boy goes to Sejanus Plinth.”

Your best friend didn’t move. Which means, he knew. He whoever was plucked in the Reaping would be handed to him. Without a doubt, you believed that his father probably bought the tribute for Sejanus. Why else would he so openly fight with his father? Sejanus may not agree with his father’s choice all of the time, but he never went as far as to argue with him. The only time you had ever seen Sejanus yell at Strabo in front of you was when you were both eleven. 

Ma and Strabo had taken you both to shop for new clothes. Sejanus was inconsolable as he cried in the middle of the boutique about how he wished that he was home, dressing in dust filled clothing among his TRUE family instead of trying on clothes that felt like they would choke him. It was almost as if the suits and uniforms knew that he wasn’t truly Capitol. When his father came to reprimand him, Sejanus stood and yelled at his father, causing a scene and directing stares towards you and the Plinths. You were sent home shortly after that with a message from Ma that it would be a while before you were allowed to see your best friend again. 

“You got the pick of the litter,” you heard Coriolanus whisper to Sejanus, more casually than you would have expected. 

“You forget. I'm part of that litter.” Sejanus’s voice was filled with disgusted, seething as he spoke. You leaned forward to place a hand on his shoulder, only for it to be received with a shrug, shaking your hand from its place. Coriolanus looked over at the interaction, smirking when he saw that your friend wanted nothing to do with you. Embarrassed, you leaned back in your chair, continuing to listen to Highbottom read of the names of District 3. 

“4, boy, Y/N Stillwater. Girl, Festus Creed.”

“Congratulations,” Festus said, leaning over to you and holding out his hand for you to shake. You met his hand in the middle, hoping that he wouldn’t say anything about your sweaty palm. “Guess we’ll be working together.” 

You tried to give the sincerest smile to him that you could, nervous about working with him. He hadn’t been the kindest to you since he found out about your friendship with Sejanus, dismissive of the district boy. Taking your hand from his, you processed the information. You had a career tribute and a boy nonetheless. While it wasn’t unheard of for a girl to win, the male careers lasted longer because of the jobs that they were given in the districts. The dean did say that winning did not determine the winner of the prize, but it would most certainly have the most influence on the decision. 

Coriolanus tried to seem unaffected as the first half the tributes were read off and his name didn’t follow. Even though things were different, the dean still seemed to find a way to sabotage his chances. The numbers continued to count down. 8, 9, 10, 11. Yet his name still wasn’t read, making him shift in his chair, trying to maintain his composure. 

Your attention was directed back to the Reaping as they progressed into the smaller, less important districts, You kept hearing names getting called on, followed by mixed responses depending on the appearance of the tribute on the screens above. 

“Oh. You'll be happy about this, Ms. Crane. The ‘runt girl’, from District 12,” the dean said, standing to face the half of you. “She belongs to Coriolanus Snow.”

No noise was made in response as the mayor read off the female tribute's name on stage in 12. “Lucy Gray Baird.”

Amongst the crowd of teenagers stepped out a girl with dark hair, the color of chocolate and a dress that was as colorful as something you would see in the Capitol, pinks, purples, oranges, and yellows in the fabric. 

“What is that dress? Is she some sort of clown?” Arachne punched fun at Lucy Gray’s attire which you thought was a bold statement. It seemed to send a message that she didn’t fit in with the other girls of District 12. 

The camera tracked her path as she walked in between the split crowd of guys and girls. On her way a boy stopped her, grabbing her arm, but she recoiled from the gesture, keeping her head held high as she walked to the front. Just as she was to cross to the stairs, Lucy Gray Baird disrupted her path to reach for another girl’s dress and placed something in her neckline. The girl’s screams filled the auditorium over the speakers, making Coriolanus stand up to see what his tribute had done. 

“My daughter! Help her!” the mayor shouted from the stage, reaching his hand out towards the girl. Peacekeepers held him back, however, as two other guards assisted his daughter. The cameras panned to the scene, revealing a small snake wriggling out of the bottom of her dress as she collapsed on the floor. 

As Lucy Gray walked up the stairs, she made her way to the mayor to shake his hand as her male partner, Jessup Diggs, had done moments ago. Rather than being met with a handshake, the mayor’s hand met your face with a slap, leaving both the auditorium and the crowd in the districts with a resounding gasp. Peacekeepers dragged the mayor back further, pulling him to the chairs in the back of the stage. Another tried to reach a hand out to Lucy Gray who was on the floor. Instead of taking it, she held her hand out, whispering something inaudible to the cameras. Suddenly a small voice was heard over the screens, singing. 

“Can’t take my past, can’t take my hist’ry. You could take my pa, but his name’s a mystery.”

Lucy Gray’s voice took over the tune. “Nothin’ you can take from me was ever worth keepin’. Nothin’ you can take was ever worth keepin’.”

“Singing? Is she out of her mind?” Arachne commented for what seemed like the thousandth time that morning. Like she could ever understand what these kids have gone through. You pushed off her comment, however, and continued to listen to the saccharine voice over the speakers. 

“Can’t take my charm, can’t take my humor. You could take my wealth cuz it’s just a rumor.” She got up from her spot on the ground and made her way over to the microphone where the mayor had been standing. “Nothin’ you can take was ever worth keepin’.” 

The tune seemed to be familiar to you, one you feel you could’ve heard before, but you brushed it off. You told yourself that the melody must have been a common one because there was no way that you could’ve known a song from the districts. But you couldn’t help but hum along. This got you a stare from Festus beside you, making you stop, hoping that nobody else had heard it. 

Lucy took the mic off of the stand, beginning to put on more of a performance for the audience both in the districts and the ones she had to know were in the Capitol. “You can’t take my sass, you can’t take my talkin’.” She took a deep breath before screaming her lungs out into the microphone. “YOU CAN KISS MY ASS!”

If the murmurs weren’t loud enough in the auditorium, they sure were now. Dropping the mic, the District 12 girl took a bow. Everyone’s eyes were on Coriolanus, laughing under their breath about how unlucky the boy must be to have someone as crazy as her. But all you had in your heart was jealousy. The dean did say that it wasn’t about winning. It was about getting your tribute to perform. Coriolanus didn’t need to assist his tribute in that front. She was doing well enough on her own. 

“Well she’s mentally ill.” Coriolanus wanted to slap Arachne for her words. She perhaps was just jealous she was stuck with someone from District 10 and he had someone with courage. 

Coriolanus looked around, feeling the stares that he was receiving. But all he could do was smile. His ‘runt girl’ had more spunk than he thought. While she was practically skin and bones to look at, there was a fire behind her, one that he seemed to be missing, that could quite possibly give her more of a shot in the games than he thought. 

After the ceremony, Coriolanus had found a spot outside of the auditorium after everybody had been dismissed to class. He made sure that no one was near before reaching into his bag and pulling out a cloth of food he had snuck from the front tables this morning. Practically shoving the pieces of bread in his mouth, he longed to stop the growls of his empty stomach. He had given up food this morning for his grandmother and he knew that he wasn’t going to last until lunch. Before he could even begin on his second piece, someone cleared his throat from behind him. At the noise, he quickly bundled up his scraps and shoved them back into the pocket of his bag, making sure he was presentable enough before turning around. 

“Proud, I see. Like your father,” the dean told him. At that, Coriolanus gave a strange look to the man in front of him. His father was a famous general, but his father was emotionless, cold to everyone except his family. Even then, at the death of his mother and baby sister, Coriolanus never received the same love from his father anymore, left to a lonely life. “Yes. He and I were best friends. Once. Enlighten me, Mr. Snow. What are your plans after these Games?”

Coriolanus stood proudly. “I hope to go on to the University, sir. Naturally.”

“And if you fail to win the Plinth Prize, what then?” 

“We'd pay the tuition, of course,” the blonde said firmly, hoping he masked his concern well enough. If he didn’t win the Plinth Prize, he could consider his education, his name, his life, over. 

“Look at you. Your makeshift shirt and your too tight shoes. Trying desperately to fit in when I know the Snows don't have a pot to piss in.” Highbottom gave him a pitiful look, making him break his gaze from the short man only a few feet away. “Good luck with that poor little songbird.”

The dean’s voice carried as he walked down the hallway, away from Snow. As the shoes began to carry closer to you, you tucked yourself behind a pillar, much like the one where Coriolanus was standing in front of. You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on their conversation, but you wanted to talk to Highbottom after the ceremony, but he had spent an awful lot of time talking to Dr. Gaul. You had been waiting outside until you heard the doors open. Though you thought it was Highbottom, you were unpleasantly surprised at Coriolanus walking out. The whole time the two were talking, you tried to stay as quiet as you could, but when you heard a shout and a clatter, you felt like screaming. 

“FUCK!” Coriolanus shouted, throwing his bag off at one of the statues near him, leaving all of his stuff to fall out of his bag and scatter over the floor. He could not believe the audacity that the dean had to screw his life over like this. Something must have happened between his father and Highbottom to make him this set on destroying his life. 

You peeked around the pillar to see him, getting down on the ground to pick up the mess that he created. Something in you told you to go over and help, but you stayed glued in your spot, worried what the boy would think of you spying on him. As he finished slipping everything back into his bag, however, he looked over, spotting your head peeking out and watching him. When your eyes met his, you shot back behind the pillar, clenching your jaw for being so nosy. 

“Hello?”

You didn’t say anything back. 

“Who are you? How long have you been here?”

Again, you stayed quiet, hoping that he would just walk away, too ashamed to actually face you. You blocked out the sight and noise of the hall, hoping that if you couldn’t see him, he wouldn’t be able to see you. But you were proven wrong as you felt a hand pull your arm when your eyes were still closed. Before you could open them, Coriolanus was yanking you into the corridor to face him. When he realized it was you, he cursed the gods. Why couldn’t it have been someone not friends with Sejanus? Why did it have to be you? 

“You,” he said, seething. 

“Ow,” you exclaimed, pulling your arm away from him. “The hell are you doing?”

“What the hell are YOU doing? How long have you been standing here?”

You didn’t contemplate your next words very much before spitting in his face just what was on your mind. “Enough to know that Highbottom is trying to screw you over with your tribute.” It created a brief smirk on your face, but that was before you realized what you had just revealed to him. 

“What do you mean?” he asks you, crossing his arms to seem unbothered by your truthful comment. 

Clenching your bag strap at his cockiness, you wanted to scream in his face that you knew about the fact that he wouldn’t be able to go onto University without the Prize. You wanted to yell at him for lying about how well off he was. But you couldn’t. Because he was just like you. Screwed without the prize, without your tribute winning the games. 

“N-nothing,” you chose to answer instead. 

He seemed to calm down after you didn’t give him an explanation. Maybe you didn’t hear as much as he thought. “What are you doing out in the hall, Y/N?” he asked, still angry. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” 

When both of you couldn’t share an explanation, Coriolanus finally spoke up. “Go to class, Stillwater. Just forget about this.”

He brushed past you, his shoulder colliding with yours as he continued down the hall. You looked back at him as he walked away, but he didn’t look at you. After you couldn’t see his face anymore, he let out a sigh of relief. You didn’t know. You didn’t know what apparently Highbottom knew. Lucy Gray HAD to win the games now in order to prove the dean wrong. He brushed his forehead with the back of his hand, wiping away the thin layer of sweat that had grown on from anxiousness. Tomorrow, the tributes would arrive and he could keep his mind occupied with the games. 

“He's sabotaging us. That girl's not gonna win these Games. You saw her. She's underfed, unstable,” Coriolanus said, pacing back and forth, rolling the rose from his lapel around in his hands. 

“The Dean said it's not just about winning.” Tigris was concerned when Coriolanus came home that afternoon, looking pale as a ghost. But when she had asked him what was wrong, he just stared at her, explaining he would tell her later. 

“Everything is about winning. If not the Games now, then the crowd. Lucy Gray won't survive a minute inside that arena. So that means we have to make every second before then count.” He paused, trying to think of a way to get Lucy Gray to connect in some way with the people of Panem when suddenly, it came to him, making him stop in his tracks. It was so painfully obvious. “I'll get her to sing again.”

“I wouldn't sing a note for you if I was her. I wouldn't do anything at all. Unless I could trust you.”

Coriolanus was disgusted at the notion. Trust? How could he trust someone who came from a place that had tormented Panem and had killed his father? “She's district, Tigris. She knows we hate her, and she wants us dead. How am I supposed to get her to trust me?

“Imagine it was your name that they pulled and you had been ripped from your home,” she argued, trying to keep her voice down as they talked. Grandma’am was sleeping in the other room and the very notion of what Tigris was talking about would give their grandmother a heart attack. “I'd just wanna know that somebody still cared about me out here. Don't discount her just because she's district, Coryo. You might have more in common with her than you think.”

Coriolanus scoffed lightly, not sure if Tigris’s advice would be worth it, let alone if it would actually work. But it wouldn’t hurt to try. He needed all the help he could get in order to ensure the Plinth Prize. Thinking about the prize made him think of his run in with you in the hall today. How much of the conversation with Highbottom had you truly heard? Maybe he was just being paranoid, but he couldn’t bear it if he knew someone out there knew the truth about his family. If the dean already knew, so be it, but one of his classmates? “Do you remember Y/N Stillwater?” he asked his cousin. 

She thought for a minute, trying to conjure up an image of you. “Maybe. Is she the one who’s friends with Sejanus Plinth?” He nodded. “What about her?”

Coriolanus debated saying anything, thinking it silly to even consider saying something to his cousin that would only make her worry. “Do you know much about her? She and I had a...run-in...today and I just wanna make sure she’s not going to be a...problem.”

“I don’t think she’ll be a ‘problem,’ Coryo. From what I know of her, she’s a sweet girl. She’s come down to the fabric shop with the Plinths a few times. Her father passed in the war and her family keeps to themselves.”

He had no idea that your father passed, only assuming that you kept close to the Plinths because of your friendship with Sejanus. And suddenly, he wasn’t too concerned about you anymore. “Just forget I asked. Goodnight, Tigris.” 

Coriolanus got up from his spot, moving to give Tigris a kiss on the cheek before moving to his room. He began to undo the buttons of his father’s shirt, being careful not to pop a button off or rip the thin fabric. The only artifacts he had left of his parents were his father’s shirt, his mother’s scarf, his father’s compass, and his mother’s compact, and he cherished every one. He wondered if you had any symbols of your father from before he died or if your mother would even allow you to keep those reminders in your house. His father didn’t know about the scarf or the compact after his mother’s death and Coriolanus was glad he didn’t because everything else of his mother was thrown into the flames. 

Why his head was now seemingly filled with you, he didn’t know. But what he did know was that he didn’t trust you. If he wanted to ensure that you wouldn’t get in his way, he’d have to befriend you. Better yet, it would allow him to get closer to Sejanus, closer to the Plinths. His head hurt, thinking of all the people he would have to gain trust with for the Prize, but he kept telling himself that it would be worth it. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep, mind wandering and dreaming only nightmares of the day to come.

[magicalqueennightmare]

Home

Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

You take down Evan and make it back to New Orleans where Elijah awaits

Warning: mention of killing and a tiny smidge of spice

Your phone vibrated in your pocket causing you and Max both to mumble a curse as he spread a shield around you both with his magic, a tactic to make the men looking for the two of you simply look anywhere but the corner the two of you were in.

The Banes twins had figured out Evan had indeed poisoned those on his side against hunters, using witches who wanted a squadron of their own who was capable of taking on things that crawled out of the deepest abyss of hell and every other realm.

The only way to sever the spell would be to kill Evan. The issue with that was it had to be an instantaneous moment of you killing him while the coven Alicia and Max had formed for this stripped his witches of their powers.

That took this hunt from the level of “find the monster and kill it” all of you knew to forming a tactical team of hunters spread across the states. Enchanted coms gave you access to hunters states over trying to pinpoint Evan's exact location. You'd called the kill, everyone understood the importance to you that was being the one to put down this threat.

Once the threat passed Max lowered his shield and grabbed your arm “Come on” the two of you ran for his motorcycle that was parked nearby and nearly dove onto it.

Elijah didn't let his temper out but when another call went unanswered he was considering breaking the phone. “She's been gone for two weeks. She dropped contact three days in. Brother perhaps she moved on” Klaus’ voice hit his ears and he spun to face him “Her Nova is still in storage. Most of her belongings are still in her apartment. Why would she leave all of that behind simply to get away from me?”

The truth was Klaus was trying to provoke his brother by offering a challenge that you simply left because after a few days of your absence he'd seen what it had done to Elijah and Rebekah and tried to locate you himself. No trail of you had been left behind in over a week. Rebekah was distracted by Marcel so his goal was to not let Elijah consider the very real possibility that you may be dead.

“If she comes back near New Orleans we'll know but you can not make her appear in front of you from will alone” he tried to choose his words carefully and could see that they had little effect on Elijah. “I care for her Niklaus. I do not want to consider having lost her this soon after finding her”

You watched Alicia walk across the room time and again, going over the vials of herbs and ingredients that lined the table. Some of those had required some traveling to get your hands on and a few Dean had gotten shipped in on a favor from Ketch.

Your hands moved from muscle memory alone, loading your guns then sharpening your blades. Evan's location had been narrowed down, you had wolves nearby watching that could report back should he move.

This had taken nearly a month. You hadn't spoken to Elijah in so long the truth was you didn't expect him to be waiting on you when you got back to New Orleans. You knew what he'd say had he known what you were doing. He'd ask you to let him handle it. He'd gladly kill Evan and get Klaus to wipe out the witches but you needed to do this yourself.

Max walked in the door and looked from you to his sister “It's time. We've got a half an hour window. It's now or never”

You were exhausted and sore when you practically rolled out of Alicia's car “Sure you don't want me to stick around?” She asked but you shook your head “A witch as powerful as you? Marcel will send people knocking. I'll be ok”

She laughed “Just call if you need anything sweetheart. You should sleep better tonight” you grinned “Oh hell yes”

—----------

You walked into the door of your apartment and dropped the bag of dirty clothes next to the door but took care to push the bag of weapons under the bed where they would be close at hand. You desperately needed to shower.

You thought of Elijah as you walked into the bathroom. You wanted to see him but part of you feared his reaction to how long you'd been gone.

Instead you hit Rebekah's number on your phone as you walked into the bathroom. The moment she answered you heard her breath a sigh of relief “About bloody time! I was afraid you'd fallen off the face of the earth”

You laughed lightly,guilt slipping into your mind “I'm sorry Bek. I just needed to handle this on my own” “I understand the need but a text would've been nice. Elijah has been unbearable” you grimaced slightly “How bad?”

She laughed and the noise wrapped around you. You hadn't realized how bad you'd missed her as well “Let's just say he was ready to set fire state by state until he laid eyes on you again. Klaus had to talk him down” christ if Klaus was being the voice of reason..you closed your eyes “Chances of delaying him knowing I'm back?”

“I can give you maybe half an hour” “You're an angel with fangs Bek” you bid each other goodbye with promise to meet the following day before you laid your phone down on the sink and quickly got into the shower. Evan's blood was still caked on your arms and splashed through your hair. You couldn't face Elijah bloody.

—---------------

You walked out of the bedroom and had just plugged your phone in and sat it on the end table next to your bed when there was a familiar knock at your door. The thought to make him wait flashed through your mind but you pushed it down.

You walked over to the door and looked down at what you were wearing. You'd tossed an oversized shirt and sleep shorts on. He'd seen you in less considering.

You opened the door and he blasted by you into the apartment. “Come on in” you mumbled, the sarcasm in your voice falling flat when you turned to face the vampire standing in the middle of your home. Anger rolled off of him in waves. Instead of his usual suit he was wearing that damn henley again and you wondered if Rebekah had told him to wear that since she knew the effect it had on you.

You shut the door then turned to lean against it with your arms crossed over your chest. You'd done nothing wrong. You owed him no explanation and wasn't about to grovel for his affection. “Rebekah said you've been a bit unhinged?”

He scoffed at your response “Tell me, how would you like me to react? You left and haven't spoken to any of us in a month” “I had business of my own to take care of” you replied and within the blink of an eye he was in front of you, eyes skimming your body “and you didn't trust me with the information of who you were after?”

You uncrossed your arms, placing both palms flat on his chest to give you enough room that his presence wasn't dizzying. He let his hands come to rest on your hips, you didn't protest because in truth you were craving his touch.

“If you respect me Elijah, you'll respect that I had to do this because it was my former fiance that was targeting hunters. I brought the threat to my community, I had to handle it” He nodded slowly “and if you respect me darling the next time you need to go on one of these little missions I simply ask you tell me”

He leaned down enough to be looking into your eyes “I don't like the thought of losing you” you didn't know how to respond. You'd expected a lot out of this but not a confession of not wanting to lose you. You knew how you felt about him but you knew you were human, you'd die probably sooner than later given your life. Were you worth the effort?

You didn't want to give voice to those concerns. You just wanted to feel Elijah. You moved your hands up his chest to hook them around his neck and bring him down into a kiss. The moment your lips touched you let out a light sigh. This was what you'd been missing for weeks. The kiss was hungry and charged, both of you feeling the need to devour the other.

His hands went from your hips to your thighs and he picked you up effortlessly. You gasped at the movement and he used it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, rolling it against yours. You ground your hips down against his, feeling how his body was already reacting to you.

You were forced to pull away from the kiss in need of air so he moved to your neck, nipping the areas he knew would make you quiver in his touch. “Bed Elijah, please” you moaned and he grinned into your neck “What happened to my smart mouthed little hunter who was ready for a fight moments ago?”

You pulled back and glared at him “You've got five seconds to get me to the bed” before you could get your sentence out completely, your back was on the bed and he was over you “Fast enough?” You shook your head but couldn't hide how your thighs clenched when his hands slipped under your shirt, fingertips barely grazing your bare breasts.

“Please quit teasing” you begged and damn him he had the nerve to smile almost boyishly “I've waited a month to touch you, taste you. You're going to get comfortable and let me enjoy this” you wanted to argue, to throw some sarcastic comment back but the way he was looking at you pulled every thought out of your mind. You nodded slowly and his smile turned from boyish to devilish “Good girl”

—-------------

You could remember the first few times you and Elijah were together. He'd been gentle, almost too gentle. You understood his fear of hurting you. He was strong and had so many years of experience and as much as you loved being held and worshiped there were times you wanted it rougher, to feel his fingertips bruising as he drove into you pushing you over that peak of pleasure.

He'd learned what you liked and was intuitive enough to know just what you needed. Tonight he knew you didn't need soft or gentle, you needed to clear your head of anything but him.

—----------------

You gripped his hair tightly as his tongue worked at your clit, fingers curling over that spot deep inside of you that had your back fighting to arch off the bed despite the fact that one of his arms laid across your stomach held you in place. “Elijah..please…fuck”

You'd already come twice and damn him he was determined to make it a third time before he ever even stripped free of his clothes. You could feel that pressure building in you and the moment he barely let his teeth graze your sensitive flesh you came with a cry of his name falling from your lips. You pushed weakly at his head “Too much…too damn much”

He left one final kiss against you then leaned back to smile up at you “Giving up already?” You wished you had the energy to fully retort but you simply waved at his clothes “You're severely overdressed Mikaelson”

He nodded then stood, quickly stripping his clothes before crawling back up your body slowly,nearly at a human pace. When he reached your lips he caught them in a rough kiss allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue “You look absolutely exquisite like this”

You opened your mouth to respond but he chose that moment to slowly push into you, clearly enjoying the way your mouth fell open and your eyes closed against the stretch. “Tell me what you need” he whispered, unmoving as he placed open mouthed kisses along your jaw taking special care to tease every place he knew would have you clenching around him.

After a moment you opened your eyes to find his gaze locked firmly onto you. You gave him a small smile “Show me how much you missed me” He shook his head with a slight smirk “All my years of living and you may very well be my undoing” a sharp roll of his hips ensured you didn't have the ability to reply beyond a deep moan falling from your lips as your nails dug into his shoulders.

You woke up curled up to Elijah's chest. It wasn't the first time the two of you had spent an entire night wrapped up in each other but the sight of waking up to him next to you was something you'd never grow tired of.

He groaned lightly as he stretched around you “How are you feeling?” You placed a kiss on his chest “Delightfully sore and happy to be home” he smiled at you referring to New Orleans as home. “How long do I have you before Rebekah steals you away?”

You glanced at the clock on your nightstand “You've got a couple hours” he leaned down to pull you into a kiss “In that case, I still have a month to make up for” you felt his hands begin to roam lower and moaned into the kiss. You may have to meet Rebekah for dinner instead of lunch.

[superlunar-eclipse]

Girl! I need more FBI Winchester!Sister reader stories! I hope that becomes a series 😩😩

🌑 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━ COMFORT IN SOLITUDE

SUMMARY: After a tough case, Y/N and Dean retreat to separate motel rooms. Sensing Dean's distress, Y/N finds him at her door, visibly upset. She comforts him, calming him down. Despite their tough lifestyle, Dean finds peace in his big sister, Y/N.

WARNINGS: angst? blood and mentions of alcohol. (lmk if i missed any)

RELATIONSHIPS: dean winchester x Y/N winchester and mentions of sam winchester x Y/N winchester.

WORD COUNT: 878 words

AUTHORS NOTE: thank you for being my first request, i am will now be considering of making this into a series! Y/N is mentioned to had studied human behavior and emotions in college.

MASTERLIST 💫

The case they had worked on tonight had been mentally and physically taxing. A devastating amount of innocent lives had been prematurely extinguished due to the reckless choices of theirs. The weight of responsibility hung heavy upon their shoulders, and the somber mood permeated the car ride back to the motel.

A silent consensus was reached between them; they were simply too drained to embark on the journey back to the bunker. Their bodies were smeared in a morbid mix of their own blood and that of those they had been unable to save. They could hardly muster the energy to clean themselves up before collapsing into the worn leather seats of the Impala.

Upon arrival at the motel, they opted for separate rooms. Normally, if only two beds were available, Y/N would willingly relinquish hers to sleep on the couch while Sam and Dean took the beds. However, this time, Sam had stayed behind to delve into research, and both Dean and Y/N felt a strong desire for solitude.

Y/N dropped her heavy bag onto the threadbare motel carpet and rummaged through it for her night clothes. She trudged to the bathroom, her head hanging low, burdened by the night's events.

She shed her blood-soaked clothes and stepped into the shower. She stood motionless, watching as the scarlet stains swirled away down the drain. After changing into fresh clothes, she sank onto the couch, her body heavy with exhaustion. She heaved a sigh and closed her eyes, endeavoring to banish the haunting memories of the case from her mind.

In the silence of her room, Y/N became acutely aware that she should go and check on Dean. She knew the case had struck a particularly painful chord with him.

Both Dean and Y/N were alike in their habitual reluctance to open up about their feelings, but their coping mechanisms differed greatly. Dean often sought solace in alcohol, sometimes to the point of passing out, despite Y/N's repeated warnings that it was an unhealthy way to deal with his emotions.

Y/N, on the other hand, preferred to avoid sleep, choosing instead to distract herself with research. She poured over texts about demons, vampires, ghouls, ghosts, shapeshifters and other creatures they might need to hunt in the future.

Having studied human behavior and emotions extensively in college, Y/N was adept at masking her feelings. However, tonight, she decided to reach out to Dean. She opened her motel room door, only to be taken aback by the sight of Dean standing there.

He looked vulnerable, his hands fidgeting nervously and his head hung low. Y/N could tell that he had been crying. She silently ushered him into her room.

They sat on the couch in silence for a few heartbeats before Y/N began to speak. But before she could get a word out, Dean cut her off. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her shoulder, his body wracked with sobs.

Y/N offered Dean the comfort he needed, setting aside her own feelings for now, holding him close and murmuring soothing words until his breathing slowly returned to normal. She tenderly kissed his forehead and wiped away his tears.

"Goodnight, Dean," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. No matter what horrors they had to face, he could always find solace in his big sister.

As the quiet of the night deepened, Y/N found herself unable to leave the couch. Dean's head rested heavily on her lap, his steady breathing a testament to the exhaustion that had finally claimed him. His slumber was a stark contrast to the turmoil they had endured earlier, and Y/N took solace in the peace that sleep had granted him.

Her hand remained on his back, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath her fingers a reassurance that he was still with her, still alive. The comforting warmth of his body seeped through the fabric of her clothes, anchoring her to the present moment. She found an inexplicable comfort in their shared silence, a reprieve from the chaos of their lives.

Her thoughts inevitably drifted towards the case they had just closed. The faces of the innocent lives lost emerged in her mind, their haunting eyes reflecting the horrors they had been subjected to.

The guilt of not being able to save them all gnawed at her insides. But she knew, as did Dean, that they couldn't save everyone. It was a harsh truth they had learned early in their line of work, yet it hit them anew with each case.

Y/N shook her head, dispelling the morbid thoughts. She needed to focus on the present, on Dean. She allowed herself a soft smile, appreciating the rare moment of tranquility they were granted. Despite the horrors they faced, these quiet moments, where it was just them, were the ones she treasured the most.

As sleep began to creep up on her, Y/N adjusted her position carefully, ensuring not to disturb Dean. She let her eyes close, the comforting rhythm of Dean's breathing lulling her into sleep. With the weight of the day finally catching up to them, they found solace in each other's company, their bond a beacon of hope in the darkness that surrounded them.

thank you for reading !

[coffe-book-club]

i love you so 𓍢ִ໋🍂₊˚୨୧⋆｡

info: toxic tom kaulitz x sweet fem! reader

summary: not all that glitters is gold.

disclaimers: toxic relationship, bullying, mention of anal sex and blood, love bombing, handling, emotional dependence. remember... in this one-shot i'm absolutely not saying that tom kaulitz is a bad person, this is a figment of my imagination.

a month has passed. at first tom he seemed like the sweetest and most loving guy ever, he always wanted to carry my backpack, he always wanted to go to my favorite coffee shop, to get beagles with avocado and scrambled egg inside. always showed up at my door with a bouquet of beautiful flowers, to then prepare a dessert and then cuddle on the sofa watching gilmore girls, or simply spending the afternoon making love. write me love letters... in short he seemed like the perfect guy. but when we decided to let me get engaged again... he became the toxic and bad guy he always was again, as if he had transformed.

i wanted to give tom one more chance, because i still loved him. but he hasn't changed at all and will destroy everything that i build in this month. he made me believe that he was sweet and loving, while he was just manipulating and brainwashing me to have power over me again. my biggest mistake was to believe that he could really change.

he made me believe that he loved me, so that i would fall for him again. and this is the ultimate proof that he will never change. every time i give him a chance, he will break my heart once again.

i have always worked very hard at school, always taking a lot of notes during lessons and studying a lot at home and doing the homework assigned by the teachers. wanting to go to a good university, always getting the highest grades in the class, the professors and the dean always rewarded me in some way. but the only thing that has always mattered to me is making my parents proud and every time I show them my tests or go to parent and teacher interviews, they always come home with a twinkle in the eyes.

i work very hard in order to achieve my dream of studying at the best university in the country. i want to be able to make my parents proud too. and as my grades are among the highest of my class, my parents support me with everything. they want their daughter to be successful and also see how hard i work for it. i spend long hours, learning at home on my own, just to be successful because i know that it will make my parents proud. i want to achieve this dream of mine, at all costs, even if it means sacrificing much of my time and life.

after a long session of angry sex, where tom put me in every possible and imaginable position and with as many sex toys. now i'm lying on my stomach, with my legs still shaking. while tom is lying on his back, smoking a joint. while we are still naked, while with his free hand he continues to spank me. i observe his well-defined body. his beautiful face and his chest, his big cock, still perfectly hard and erect... “uhm... i feel so so good and satisfied. but i didn't even think that anal sex would hurt so much the first time”

“shut up! you are disgusting and no one cares about what you want or what you feel, fuck” i'm still lying on my stomach and tom is lying next to me. the bed is covered in my blood and sweat, and i can feel how much of an absolute failure i am. he looks at me with disgust and i remember the feelings i had only a few hours ago. i feel so ashamed of myself.

i feel a shooting pain in my chest, at the height of my poor heart. now too broken. numerous tears form on my eyes at his mean and cruel words.

i turn my face away, so i can watch the gray sky, from my window next to my bed. my sheets are slightly stained with blood and cum. afterwards i will have to wash them well by hand and then put them in the washing machine. “i'm so sorry”

“you should be sorry. you are the worst mistake of my life!” he still looks at me with disgust. he doesn't care that my heart is broken and that i feel so bad right now. he doesn't care that he completely destroyed me again, without any reason at all. he doesn't care about me or my feelings, he never has and never will. “you really thought i loved you and changed? you can only disappoint me” he says to me in a hateful way.

“but... but it's you who have returned to me, not i to you” my long hair falls on my white sheets with little blue flowers, while tears roll down my chubby cheeks slightly red from the long sex session. the sadness persists in my poor heart, now too broken and destroyed. from the person with whom i'm unfortunately still madly in love.

he chuckles in a cold way and shakes his head slightly. “tou always believed every word i said and believed in every lie that i told you. you always went back to me. it wasn't me who returned to you” he smiles at me, but his smile turns into a cold and hateful expression when he says the following words.

“i could never love you, you useless hoe” he just wanted to break me, to get me back to him, so he could destroy my self-esteem and confidence once again. i close my eyes, letting my salty tears roll down my cheeks, not saying a single word. i had given him my heart right away. i had given him all my love and sweetness, thinking that he could love me too. but i was wrong. i close my eyes and the tears continue to roll down my cheeks. i'm so sad right now and i feel so broken. he doesn't care at all what he's saying and how he's hurting me. “you are useless, you can't do a single thing! you are not good for anything at all”

the words hurt me deeply. and i think about how i always tried to make him happy, but it was never enough for him. i sniffle, then get out of bed and sit down with difficulty. my butt hurts really bad, but the pain in my heart almost makes me forget the pain of the long anal sex session. i bring my hands closer to my cheeks, to try to dry them. under her expectant gaze and his cold heart.

“you are so stupid! you have wasted everything i have said to you. and that little brain of yours will never be able to change. you are a stupid ho and will always be one” he says to me, his expression not showing a single emotion. i hear his cruel words, which only break my heart more. i still remember how he said he loved me and now i feel so stupid, because i believe his words again. i didn't learn a thing from the last months.

i look down, observing my sheet where in some places it is stained with blood and others with cum. saying nothing, remaining silent and heartbroken. all my attempts to make him happy and loved always went up in smoke. my treatments have never been of any use, as well as my love for him.

he smiles at me again and kisses my forehead, while my tears roll down my cheeks and my butt hurts so badly that i can't even stay still anymore. “it's always your fault. you are the reason for all the bad things that happen to you” he strokes my hair gently and still gives him that loving look. my biggest mistake was to give him another chance. “i only wanted the best for you, but you always ruined everything...” he says to me, with such a calm and loving tone in his voice. he kisses my forehead softly, stroking my hair. trying to manipulate me further, trying to make me believe that it's only my fault. “i'm... i'm so sorry”

i answer him with a trembling and extremely sad voice, continuing to look at my sheets, which until a few hours ago were clean and fragrant. i just want him to hold me in his arms, kissing my head, caressing me with love. telling me that everything is fine and that he apologizes for his mean words and for breaking my heart. but i know that will never happen and that i will always have to apologize.

“oh, my lovely sweetheart...” he strokes my hair again and then caresses my face gently, while he looks into my eyes. “i'm so sorry, that i said the things i just said to you. i shouldn't have. you are the sweetest, most caring and loving person i have ever met. i don't deserve someone like you...” he tries to manipulate me once again. and it works perfectly. “please forgive me, my sweet angel” i move closer to his warm body, resting my cheek on his shoulder. wrapping my arms around his waist, sobbing over and over again. knowing deep in my heart, everything he's telling me, he doesn't mean it.

now i'm back where i always end up when i'm with him. i'm broken and i cry and he comforts me. he gives me the love and affection i so desperately need right now, but which he will take away from me again within a few days or a few hours. “shhh, everything will be fine, y/n” he kisses my forehead and strokes my hair gently, while i cry in his arms.

small sobs leave my lips, as tears roll down my cheeks and lightly wet his shoulder. you hold him tighter to my body, seeking that warmth of love that i desperately need. in need of his love, which i will soon no longer receive, because it is a matter of moment. for those few minutes or hours, i can feel loved again. he gives me that affection and that warmth that i crave so much. i'm in each others arms again and nothing could make me happier right now. “how much i love you...” he whispers softly, while i hold onto him even tighter. i know that this feeling i have right now won't last long, but i don't care about that right now. all that matters right now is that i feel happy, loved and appreciated again. i miss him so much and this is the proof that i still love him.

i bring my lips close to his neck, kissing him softly and with love. “i love you so much, my little moon” i speak to him softly, sobbing from time to time, tears still streaming down my face, crying in his arms. “please stop crying, my baby. i don't like seeing you so sad. you don't deserve to be sad...” he looks at me with the sweetest expression imaginable. he strokes my hair again and kisses my cheek, while he tries to convince me that he loves you once again.

“i'm so sorry for my earlier mean comments...” he says to me, smiling in a loving way, while i still cry in his arms...

hii 💌 how are you? these days i'm more at work, than at home or with my friends. in my old profile 'i love you so' there was a mini-fic, so i think i'll publish the other parts here too ☺️ next week i will publish more headcanons, especially on georg listing and gustav schäfer, because they deserve a lot of love too. i apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors, but english is not my native language. xoxo flo.

[apocalypseornaw]

Real or Not (Pt 2/5)

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Just as you're beginning to feel like you overreacted the biggest challenge yet gets thrown your way

@lacilou s idea

You sang lightly along with your Playlist, Kaleo cranking through the Bluetooth speaker you'd hooked your phone up to as you worked through the stack of lore books the boys had stored in the small room just outside of the "dungeon" as they called it. They'd gone on a supply run into town and despite Dean asking you to tag along you'd chosen to instead stay behind at the bunker.

A couple weeks had passed since that day you'd overheard him and Sam talking about Camila. You'd been more careful of announcing your presence coming into rooms hoping to not walk into the middle of any more reminiscing. A part of you hoped Dean hadn't noticed any change in you while another part of you was nearly desperate for him to notice, to soothe your worries.

You let out a louder sigh than you'd meant to, noticing the legal pad in front of you was still blank despite the fact that you'd come in here with intentions to gather more information for the hunters journals you and Sam had been compiling to make assisting other hunters easier. "That thing say something bad to you? Cause I'll kick its ass" your eyes flew up to where Dean was now leaned against the doorframe watching you.

A small smile slipped onto your face "How long you been there?" He shrugged "Long enough to see that you looked like someone kicked a black kitten in front of you" you tried to look genuine when you said "Nothings wrong Dean" he nodded slowly "You sure?" "Of course" he smiled before walking closer, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips he tapped his knuckles against the legal pad before playfully saying "You hurt my girl's feelings again I'll set your ass on fire" you laughed despite yourself. Why were you worried when here he was threatening an inanimate object for you?

Yet again you found those three little words warming your lips begging for escape and yet again you choked them back down denying them the freedom to be released into the world. You did love Dean, you were in love with him but you wouldn't say it first. Take away the doubts lingering in your mind you knew him well enough to know the man didn't commit often, you were one of few lasting relationships and wasn't about to say it first just to freak him out.

You realized you were staring at him and felt the tips of your ears warm. Why you weren't sure considering you shared a bed with him and had for a while now. A smirk slipped onto his face before he said "Don't be shy sweetheart. You can feel free to check me out whenever you want, I'm all yours" your head flipped in your chest.

"I just fed your ego even more didn't i?" You teased and shrugged "Maybe just a little" you laughed and shook your head before pushing back from the table and grabbed his hand "Cmon I need a break. I'll help you and Sam put everything away"

You were beginning to think you'd simply over reacted to the mention of Camila. You had a few exes that you ended on good enough terms with that you still spoke to them occasionally and would back them up if need be on a hunt. While it was true none of them came near holding a candle to Dean you had cared about a couple of them.

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

You hissed lightly when Sam touched the ragged slice across your arm. Fucking ghouls, you hated the little scavengers. "Easy Y/N" he comforted, the antiseptic cold as he applied it to your wound.

Dean looked up from across the room, the slice across his cheek somehow added to his looks. It wasn't fair he always looked amazing, even when he was bloody "Sweetheart I haven't seen someone take down ghouls that fast in a while" you grinned slightly "Coming from one of you two I'll take that as a compliment"

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

Once Sam was through throwing a couple stitches in your arm he placed a bandage over it and smiled over your shoulder at you "all patched up" you nodded "Thanks Sam" He wished you and Dean goodnight then headed for the door that connected the two motel rooms you'd gotten.

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

Normally the three of you would just drive back to the bunker but considering you'd had to make the drive down to New Orleans to help a coven with their ghoul problem it had been a unanimous decision to crash halfway back for the night.

When you suggested just getting one room Sam had shook his head "No, I am not risking waking up to the sight of you and Dean being handsy with each other" you had ducked your head from embarrassment but Dean had simply shrugged "She's gorgeous, what can I say?"

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

Once the door shut behind Sam, Dean raised an eyebrow at you "What's that look about dee?" You asked and he shrugged "Just thinking you'd be a lot more comfortable out of those jeans"

You felt a smirk slip onto your face "Oh really?" You held his eyes as you unzipped your jeans and pulled them down your legs, kicking them behind you. A smile worked across his face as he took a step towards you "Now let's get you out of that shirt and bra"

You laughed as he reached for the hem of you shirt "So I'd be more comfortable naked?" He caught your lips in a hungry kiss before saying "Yeah, you would but don't worry I'm gonna get comfortable with you"

When you woke up Dean was curled up to your back, his warm breath hitting your neck with every slow exhale as he slept. Your arm wasn't that sore considering although some other body parts were after the night before. A warmth spread through your stomach and lower at the memory of Dean's lips on your body, the way his hips had rolled into yours both of you clinging to each other, a solid chorus of moans mixed with the skin meeting had filled the room.

As if he could hear your thoughts Dean started to stir behind you, his lips finding your neck "What you thinking about?:" you smiled, leaning back into him "A gorgeous guy" he murmured against your skin "Lucky asshole" before his hands began to roam lower on your body.

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

You'd just gotten out of the shower and was getting dressed when you heard Sam's voice in the other room talking to Dean. You caught a few words like "Gotta talk to Y/N"

You quickly got dressed and brushed your hair before heading into the main part of the motel room. Both Winchesters snatched their heads towards the sound of the door opening "What's wrong?" You asked and they exchanged a look "A hunter nearby called for an assist" Dean said matter of factly so you nodded "Ok, what's the case?"

They exchanged another look before Sam said "Thinking changling" you groaned inwardly, the last case had been horrible. "Let's get on it. Who is it?" With one final look exchanged between the boys Sam finally said "Camila"

@lacilou

@saranghaey

@stoneyggirl2

@marimarvelfan

@roseblue373

@suckitands33

@backtotheshitshow

@jackles010378

@badassbitch-21

@leigh70

@diagnosedpsychosis

[avanatural]

Welcome To The Family

Summary: Y/N recently moved to Lebanon, Kansas, where she met Dean, the man of her dreams. She wants to spend the holidays with him. But Dean, being a hunter, is hesitant about it. With some persuasion from his family, he reconsiders letting her be part of his life.

Pairing: Dean x female Reader

Category: Fluff

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: Dean’s self-loathing

A/N: With 2022 coming to an end, I had an idea for some New Year’s fluff. I hope you enjoy, lovelies! Wishing you all the best for 2023 ❤️

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Soft, tiny snowflakes fell from the grey sky and dusted the small town of Lebanon, Kansas.

Her hair and face were sprinkled with the cold, fluffy snow. Her new hometown was adorned with Christmas lights. The small local stores were filled with people who were scrambling to finish their holiday shopping on time. She’d never been a Christmas person, or a winter person for that matter, but maybe this year could be different.

She opened the door to the liquor store, wiping the soles of her shoes on the doormat before proceeding.

“Hey, Y/N,” Martin, the owner, greeted her. He was leaning against the counter with a magazine between his fingers, clearly waiting for the time to pass.

“Hey.” She smiled and wiped the freezing tip of her nose. Already knowing what she was looking for, she headed to the back of the store.

As soon as she stood in front of her preferred liquor shelf, her ears captured the faint sound of the door opening again.

“Mr. Campbell,” Martin’s voice rang through the store, greeting the newly arrived customer.

An excited grin grew on Y/N’s lips as she heard the customer’s footsteps approach her from behind. Her heart bloomed in her chest when one of his hands came up to cover her eyes. A chuckle fell from her mouth. “I know it’s you.” With both hands, she pried his giant palm away from her face.

“Lost my moment of surprise there, huh? Thanks, Martin!”, he yelled over his shoulder.

The owner of the store just snickered and went back to reading his magazine.

With the smile etched to her face, Y/N turned around to face the man of her dreams. Bright green eyes shone back at her. His long eyelashes were thick and watery with the remains of snow that settled on them. His hair was damp, and his cheeks were flushed from the cold.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hey, Dean.”

He flashed his teeth at her, giving her a heart-stopping smirk, and leaned down to catch her lips in a kiss. He nipped on her lower lip in a teasing manner, keeping it stuck between the soft pillows of his mouth even as he pulled away.

God, that mouth of his.

“Gearing up for Christmas?”, she asked and caught his hand in hers.

“Uh… Yeah. Still got some errands to run.” His mouth opened again, but he refrained from saying any more. He knew he had to talk to Y/N about their plans, but he simply had no idea what to tell her.

“So…” Y/N’s brows squeezed together in an almost apologetic manner. She peeked up at Dean through her eyelashes, hoping she wasn’t being foolish. But there was a tiny little spark of hope that urged her to at least make sure. “Have you thought about it?”

“Well…” A hefty sigh left his mouth. His grip on her hand loosened. “Y/N, listen, I don’t-“

“It’s okay, Dean,” she cut him off, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. She’d already heard enough. It was fine. Of course, it was fine. But still, her free hand awkwardly played with the hem of her jacket, betraying her. “You don’t have to explain anything. I get it.”

He narrowed his bright jade eyes at her, studying her face with a grain of skepticism. “You sure?”  

“Yeah. It’s probably too soon to do the holiday thing, anyway.” She shrugged her shoulders and gave him her most convincing smile. “I can go see a couple friends instead.”

“Hello? Earth to Dean!”

“Hm?” He lifted his gaze, looking across the library table, meeting Charlie’s questioning gaze.

“You okay?”, she asked.

“Yeah. And I’d be even better if everyone would just stop asking me that.” As he realized just how grumpy he was acting, his eyes softened visibly. He sent a regretful smile Charlie’s way, who reciprocated it despite still looking worried.

Colorful fairy lights were scattered across the bunker. There were candles on the table and a small Christmas tree in the back of the library. It was decorated mainly with car air fresheners, but it was something. For the first time ever, the Winchesters’ home looked festive. Today was New Year’s Eve, but Dean was nowhere close to feeling the holiday spirit.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?” Jody pointed at the full plate in front of Dean. It was unusual for the older Winchester brother not to devour her cooking.

“What?” Dean was quick to shake his head. “No, it’s good.” To emphasize his point, he shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth and hummed. But after a few seconds, his enthusiasm dissipated and his chewing slowed down.

Sam watched his brother push the food around the plate for another three minutes before he put down his own cutlery, frustrated. “Dude, just call her.”

“Call who?”, Charlie, seated opposite the two brothers, inquired, looking back and forth between them.

Dean and Sam responded simultaneously. “No one.” “His girlfriend.”

“Wait… You got a girlfriend?”, Claire addressed Dean with a taunting tone in her voice. She sat up straight on her chair and steadied her chin on her hand, ready to dive head first into the drama.

“Uh…” Dean felt his insides flutter. All eyes were on him and his love life. Which was, admittedly, going well for the first time in God-knows-how-many years. But he didn’t need the sweat stains underneath his arm pits right now, thank you, so he hoped to end this moment as fast as possible. “It’s still pretty new, so…” His blunt fingernails scratched his growing stubble. “We decided not to… do this whole… holiday thing.”

“But you’d rather have her here,” Jody stated, a knowing grin stretching on her lips.

“No. Well…” Dean paused, and then his shoulders sagged. “Ugh, I don’t know.”

“She lives close by,” Sam explained to their guests, “But she’s not a hunter.”

The hunters who were gathered around the table nodded in understanding. They all shared similar fates when it came to love, and especially love that involved civilians.

“What is she like?”, Alex spoke up after a few tense moments of silence, fishing for further information, much to everyone’s hidden approval.

“She’s… She’s awesome,” Dean mumbled. An adoring smile appeared on his lips, so slight that it almost went undetected. But his friends caught it nonetheless. When they ‘aww’ed at him, his scowl returned.

“Oh, come on!”, Donna exclaimed, “Humor us.”

“I, uh… I think….,” he continued slowly, watching his friends like a hawk. He didn’t want to be the love sick puppy they probably perceived him as. But at the same time, a strange sensation tugged at his heart strings. It felt like gratification. And pride. Y/N was a great woman, way too good for him. If he managed to somehow keep her around, he hoped that it would say something good about him. That he was relationship material, after all. “You guys would like her,” he continued, “But I just... I shouldn’t drag her into this, you know?”

“Don’t you think she’d understand?”, Sam pressed, “She seems like she would.”

“We’ve talked about this,” Dean shut his younger brother down, his tone strict.

Alex shrugged her shoulders. “I think you should call her.”

“And put her on speaker!”, Claire exclaimed with a mischievous smirk on her face.

Dean glared at his brother for bringing Y/N up in the first place. Sam just raised his hands and eyebrows in defense.

“Call her… Call her,” Claire started to chant, soon joined by Charlie.

It only took a few seconds until Dean’s entire family was cheering him on, chanting the same request over and over again. “Call her… Call her… Call her…”

“Son of a bitch... Alright, fine!” Dean lifted his hands and waved them through the air, trying to get them to stop. “Calm the hell down.”

He had to mentally psych himself up as he pulled his phone from his pocket and selected her number. With a sharp exhale, he put the phone to his ear.

The monotonous beeping sound was deafening. It went on and on and on. Y/N didn’t pick up.

The other hunters noticed that the beeping continued. They watched Dean with wrinkled foreheads and question marks in their eyes.

“She said she might go see a couple friends,” Dean mumbled, averting his gaze. Strangely enough, he couldn’t deny the daunting feeling of his hopes being shattered. His family had hyped him up so hard that now he felt like a little boy who’d just been told Santa wasn’t real. “Maybe she already took off, I don’t know.”

“Well, what are you waiting for, Romeo? Go get your girl before it’s too late!”, Charlie exclaimed, pointing at the door. “This could be your final quest of the year!”

“I-,” Dean gasped, dropping the phone from his ear, “Are you serious right now? We’re not a normal family. She’ll see that!”

“I think we can all behave like perfectly normal people for a few hours,” Alex said. With a pointed look at Claire, she continued, “Can’t we?”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

The older Winchester shook his head. “But what if Y/N-“

“Dean, no offense,” Jody spoke up, “But if you don’t move your ass, I think someone might end up shooting you.”

Y/N shut the trunk of her car with a sigh. She had a two-hour drive ahead of her, and she was already late. She was going to meet up with some friends who were having a New Year’s Eve party. Originally, she’d declined the invitation, hoping to spend at least part of the holidays with Dean. It was all so new, so fresh, but for the first time in forever, pursuing a relationship felt right.

“Hey!”

The booming voice caught her off-guard. She twirled on the spot, her eyes going large when she saw the beautiful black Impala approach her.

Dean stopped his roaring car right next to her, the window already rolled down. “Hey, gorgeous, you come here often?”

A sheepish smile crept onto her face. His nicknames for her never failed to make her heart sing. “Dean, hi.”

“I’m glad I caught you.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m hoping to, uh…” He gave her his most charming smile and his very best attempt at puppy dog eyes. “Take you home with me?”

“What?”, she chuckled, stepping aside to give him space as he got out of the car. The driver’s door squeaked as he closed it. Once he stood in front of her, she glanced up at him with a furrowed brow. “I thought you were celebrating with your family.”

“I am… But, uh… I just…” His gaze was unstable, roaming the parking lot, taking in fleeting views of surrounding houses, cars, and trees. “I realized that includes you, too.” After a bashful glance at his old boots, he added, “God, that sounded cheesy.”

Y/N’s eyes brightened. A feeling of warmth grew inside her body, providing a contrast to the cold winter air. “Actually, I like how that sounded.”

Dean’s eyebrow arched. He could barely conceal the smug little grin that took over his face. “Yeah?”

She clasped the lapels of his jacket between her fingers and tugged him down a bit. His eyes were so close to hers now. She loved staring into those gold-green pools of heaven. “A lot.”

“Well…” His guttural, smooth voice captivated her eardrums. His large hands sneaked under her jacket, settling on her waist. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”

“You mean it?”, Y/N asked, anticipating his response while a sparkle of excitement danced through her soul, “You really want me to celebrate with you?”

“Christmas sucked without you,” Dean confessed, recalling his sour mood in the previous week, “I don’t want New Year’s Eve to suck, too.”

“Is your family okay with it?”

“More than okay. Trust me.”

And she did. She tended to be wary of other people, especially the ones she didn’t know for long, but Dean was different. She trusted him with every single bone in her body.

“This is where you live?”, Y/N inquired, taking in the sight of what looked like an old abandoned factory. When Dean had told her that his place was more on the unconventional side, this was certainly not what she’d expected.

“Yeah…” His throat suddenly went dry, forcing him to clear it. “We, uh… Kinda inherited the place. I promise it’s much cozier on the inside.”

“This is, uh…” Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off of the factory. “Well, it’s definitely different.”

“Look, Y/N...” Dean took her hand in his, afraid that she was going to bail on him. Which, honestly, he would understand. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me. Not yet, anyway. I’m messed up.”

Her brows curled with compassion as her eyes searched his. “Dean, we’ve been over this-“

“No, I’m seriously messed up. And I hope that…” He sighed, hit by that pang of self-doubt that just seemed impossible to cure. “That I’m not gonna scare you away. That we can… Have a talk… Or something, after tonight.”

“I’d love that.” Y/N weaved her fingers through his. “I don’t think that anything you’re gonna tell me can scare me away.”

For a few seconds, the hunter’s body didn’t move. Not a single inch. He stared back at her with an absent little smile. Yes, she was definitely too good for him. “Thanks.”  

“For what?”

“Giving me a chance, I guess.”

“Well, of course. I wanna be with you, Dean,” she confessed. Her hands were shaking slightly at this point. “I’m kinda worried, I’m not gonna lie, but what we have matters to me.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” Dean gently rubbed Y/N’s cold hand between his two palms. “Come on,” he said, “Let’s go in before we freeze to death.”

The bunker’s front door gave a powerful squeak. Powerful enough to make a room full of bickering hunters go quiet. The air thickened with expectation. Wide, curious eyes tied their gazes to the metal staircase. Upper and lower lips pressed together, sealed with glue of anticipation. Curious looks were exchanged across the table as two pairs of footsteps descended the stairs.

Y/N’s heart accelerated more with each step. Dean’s hand, entangled tightly with her own, guided her through a pitch-black room, which, unbeknownst to her, was the war room.

From there, she could spot a bunch of people sitting at a large wooden table in a room that looked like a library. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to keep her nervousness in check.

“What’s goin’ through that pretty head of yours?”, Dean uttered into her ear.

Y/N managed to put on a smile for him. This whole thing had to be a huge step for him, and she wanted to take it with him. “It does look much cozier on the inside,” she muttered back.

Dean softly shook his head at her. He could see right through her. And she wasn’t nearly as calm as she feigned to be.

When he noticed her hesitate, her steps slowing down, Dean took the lead and walked ahead of her. That’s not to say he wasn’t feeling anxious, though. In fact, his palm felt clammy against Y/N’s, and he could feel his heartbeat race through his throat. He had never brought a girl to the bunker. He had never brought a girl to meet his family.

The closer they got to the library, the more clearly they could see the awaiting faces that were staring at the two of them.

“Guys…,” Dean spoke up as if his family’s attention wasn’t already focused on his girlfriend, “This is Y/N.”

A few people who were seated at the table waved at her, and she waved back somewhat awkwardly, her lips curving into a polite smile. “Hi, everyone.”

One chair scraped against the floor, then two, and a few more, until all of Dean’s family members were lined up to greet her.

Dean let go of Y/N’s palm, brushing his fingers against the back of her hand one last time to let her know he wouldn’t be far.

“Hi! I’m Jody. Nice to meet you.” The woman with short dark hair pulled her into a comforting hug.

Jody’s soothing vibes instantly put Y/N more at ease. “Nice to meet you, too,” she responded.

A few happy wrinkles appeared on Jody’s nose when she pulled back from their hug. “Welcome to the fold.”

“Thank you. For having me.”

Next, a woman with curly blonde hair came up to her, wearing the bubbliest grin on her face that Y/N had ever seen. “My gosh, you’re so pretty! I’m Donna.”

“Me? Look at you. I’d kill to have hair like yours,” Y/N replied with a smile as she felt the blonde rub her back.

“Oh, I like her!”, Donna said to Dean, making him chuckle.

Sam was the next to pull his brother’s girlfriend into a hug. “Hey, Y/N.”

She felt his long arms around her back, squishing her against him in a warm bear hug. “Hey, Sam.”

“I’m glad Dean managed to get to you in time,” Sam said, “It’s really good to see you.”

“You, too. I’m grateful to be here,” she murmured against his shoulder.

“Leave some for the rest of us, will you?”, a sassy voice interrupted.

Dean’s brother and girlfriend broke away from each other, and Y/N saw a young woman with blonde hair standing next to her. “Hey. I’m Claire,” she introduced herself casually.

“Nice to meet you, Claire.”

For a second, the young woman just stared her up and down, assessing her. Then, as if Y/N had passed the test, she started to smile and hugged her.

A very relieved Y/N looked at Dean, who gave her a thumbs up behind Claire’s back.

Before Y/N had even fully pulled away from Claire, a redheaded woman wrapped her up in a hug, almost knocking her off her feet. “Hi! I’m Charlie.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Y/N said with a surprised chuckle, embracing the redhead.

Once Charlie let go of Y/N, she mouthed an impressed wow! to Dean, who responded with a cocky tilt of his head and a silent I know.

“Okay, last but not least. I’m Alex. Nice to meet you,” a young dark-haired woman said. She approached Y/N and gave her the final welcoming hug, squeezing her in her arms.

“Alright.” Dean clapped his hands together. “Is there any more food?”

Charlie’s hand closed around her beer bottle as she asked, “So, who’s your favorite Harry Potter character?”

Y/N didn’t think twice about her response. “Oh, Hermione for sure.”

The redhead didn’t hesitate to extend her beer bottle to her new friend. Her facial features transformed into a dead serious expression as she told Dean, “I have a crush on your girlfriend.”

Y/N laughed and clinked bottles with Charlie.

“Pff, get in line,” Dean retorted playfully and slung his arm over Y/N’s shoulders.

For the first time since holiday season had begun, Dean felt at peace. Maybe this kind of celebration wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

“I know you said you’re not the type to do this holiday stuff,” Y/N said, placing her hand on Dean’s knee, “But you put together something beautiful here.”

“I second that!”, Jody called out with a smile.

Donna clicked her tongue before adding, “Well, there’s nothin’ the Winchesters can’t do!”  

Both Dean and Sam stopped in their tracks. They each shifted to face Y/N, who was staring back at them with a blank expression. 

The entire group fell silent as they realized something was off.

Dean felt like his heart had stopped beating. Just like the rest of Lebanon, Y/N thought of them as the Campbell brothers. Not the Winchester brothers. He felt trapped. Caught. He intended to have a long, perhaps life-altering conversation with his partner the next day, come clean about everything. He didn’t want to freak her out in front of everybody on New Year’s Eve. 

Just a couple of words were going to make Dean’s entire house of cards collapse. Once again, his love life was going to be swept away under his feet like a dirty rug.

“Sam and Dean Winchester,” Y/N mumbled under her breath, her irises bouncing back and forth between the brothers, disbelief lacing her quiet voice.

Dean gulped. Great, she’d heard of them. He mentally prepared himself to give her the we-are-not-serial-killers speech.

A scoff left Y/N’s lips, giving way for a smile to break through. She got up from her chair, observed intently by everyone, and turned her back to them. She gathered her hair in her hand and pulled it up in a makeshift bun.

Everyone’s eyes widened, but Dean’s most of all.

Right there, on the back of her neck, he could spot a tiny pentagram. He’d never seen the black ink before. She’d always worn her hair down. And under there, Y/N had hidden a freaking anti-possession tattoo!

She turned to face Dean’s family again, a smile on her lips as they all burst into fits of laughter. The cheerful tunes echoed through the bunker halls, shattering the tension.

“No way.” Dean shook his head, waiting for his mind to be cleared. But nothing changed. He wasn’t beamed back to reality. This was reality. All the pressure that had built up inside him suddenly evaporated. He didn’t need to explain that he wasn’t a serial killer. And he didn’t need to explain that he was a hunter. Because Y/N was a hunter, too.

“Now, that explains a lot,” she quipped teasingly, narrowing her eyes at her boyfriend as she sat back down.

A toothy smile played on Dean’s lips. “No wonder the good ol’ bunker didn’t scare you away.”

Y/N pulled a small silver dagger from her boot and held it up to show him. “I always come prepared.”

By now, laughter was pouring from Dean’s mouth. His chuckles weren’t necessarily driven by amusement. Rather, they were chuckles of relief. The creases around his eyes were deep as he leaned closer to his girlfriend. “I should’ve frisked you.” Despite having an audience, his lips sought hers, planting a kiss on the soft flesh.

Everyone cheered and laughed around the couple. The hunters were very aware that they were in the midst of witnessing a delayed Christmas miracle.

Y/N kept Dean close as they broke apart. “You still can,” she whispered into his ear. The slight shiver of his body didn’t go past her, making her smile.

“Oh, I most definitely will,” he vowed.

Sam cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention and raised his glass at Y/N, who was beaming with joy. “Welcome to the family.”

The other hunters followed suit, raising their glasses and yelling, “Welcome to the family!”

Dean slung his arm over her shoulders again and tucked Y/N against his side. “Welcome to the family, sweetheart.”

“Guys, I really don’t wanna interrupt the love fest, but it’s almost midnight,” Claire chimed in.

“Alrighty,” Donna said, looking around, “Does everyone have someone to hug or smooch?”

A sloppy smirk plastered itself across Dean’s face. “Oh, I’m good.” He squeezed Y/N’s body against him, basking in the small giggle that she graced his ears with.

Together, they all counted the final seconds of the year. A year that had been anything but easy. And despite everything, they considered themselves lucky to start the new year together.

“5… 4… 3… 2… 1!”

Dean took Y/N’s face in his hands and kissed her like she’d never been kissed before. They melted into each other, exchanging electric sparks with each movement of their heads, with each stroke of their lips. Y/N’s hand flew up, grasping Dean’s lower arm for support. The short bristles of his beard scratched her chin as he worked his mouth against hers.

Just a few hours earlier, she’d been on her own. And now she had a family.

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