#alternate universe dean

[strawlessandbraless]

Sometimes I think about Dean meeting AU Cas, a hunter in his own world, and how that would go

But I think we know how it would go, Dean would immediately set phasers to fuck

UPDATE: For those looking for a fic with this concept, @alana-alana-alana just recommended

Those Who Favor Fire

dothraki_shieldmaiden, FriendofCarlotta

[lanadelnegan]

Hey, I love your writing it’s so good you truly are a phenomenal writer. Anyways, I was wondering if you could do a gym teacher negan x female reader. (She’s a senior about to graduate and she’s been flirting with her teacher and they both feel the same way for each other and one day he decides to break the tension and things just get steamy. Btw I literally adore that you use a daddy kink (you are so real for that). Thank you so much :)

omg thank you so so much!!! and god this sounds insanely hot. i'm such a whore for teacher negan.

Crush - Part 1

Gym Teacher Negan x Female Reader

read part two here

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, *reader is 18*, you catch Coach Negan masturbating, angst, teasing, flirting, sexual tension, teacher x student, part 2 will be 99% smut

Song inspo: Crush by Ethel Cain

"Ya gonna miss me when I graduate?" You ask, reaching for a piece of candy from the bowl on Negan's desk. Class started five minutes ago, but both of you have a tendency to be late.

Negan has been your gym teacher since junior year and the two of you have grown closer over the past two years than any teacher and student should. It's hard to fight the crush you've developed for him, considering his charming sense of humor, ridiculously good looks, and most importantly - how much attention he gives you.

His eyes trail away from his computer screen as he stands, coming around the desk beside you. "Is there a reason you're not in your gym clothes, miss y/l/n?"

"What? You don't like this?" You tease, looking down at your outfit. Your usual attire consists of some jeans and a t-shirt, but this is your last week of high school, so you decided to spice it up and wear a short blue sundress today.

Negan glances down at your body, letting his gaze linger on your breasts for a moment too long as he stands tall in front of you.

"It's a little inappropriate, wouldn't you say so? .... You tryna get some high school boy's attention?" His head tilts waiting for your answer.

"I wouldn't say boy." You take a bite of the unwrapped mini snickers bar in your hand before smirking at him.

"Oh?" His brows raise playfully. "A girl then?"

"No.. gym teacher." You say barely above a whisper as you smoothly lick some of the chocolate off your bottom lip. Your cheeks turn a light shade of pink at your own words.

You've become much bolder since you turned 18 last month, and you aren't missing the opportunity to spend every second flirting with Coach Negan before school is out.

The corner of his mouth raises into a knowing smirk as he stands closer to you, intoxicating you with the scent of his musky, sporty cologne.

"You want my attention, doll? Ya gotta try harder than that." He snatches the candy bar from your hand before popping it into his own mouth and leaving you standing alone in his office.

His loud voice from the gym echoes through the hallway as you make your way to the locker room, replaying his words in your head and changing into your tiniest pair of shorts.

You want my attention? Ya gotta try harder than that.

You tie your hair up in a high ponytail in the mirror, noting the way your oversized shirt and shorts barely cover your ass before giving yourself a pep talk.

"Y/l/n, nice of you to finally join us." He yells as you enter the gym.

You roll your eyes nonchalantly before finding your spot on the court and beginning your stretches.

Negan walks up and down the rows of students as you all stretch and music flows through the speakers of the gym. There's no denying he's the coolest P.E. teacher you've ever had. Not even counting his looks.

When he reaches your space, he makes a point to roam his eyes up and down your body as you stretch. You stare back at him, grinning at the effect you seem to have on him. You can't help but notice the way his dick bounces behind his gym shorts as he walks and you mentally thank the gods that he chose not to wear underwear today.

Your body bends side to side as you stretch, not taking your eyes off of him as he gets closer to you.

"You can do better than that." He whispers lowly.

You're not sure if he's referring to your stretching or his comment from earlier... Ya gotta try harder than that.

Either way, you take it as a challenge and bend over right as he's passing you, touching the tips of your fingers to your toes. Your head turns slightly behind you to see his reaction but he's not looking which only makes you groan with frustration.

"Lucky for you kids I happen to be in a fuckin' good mood today, so rest of class is free time. Just don't get too loud and make me regret it." Negan announces to the class and everyone spreads out, immediately finding their friend groups and beginning various activities.

Unfortunately for you, your only friends in that class are a small group of girls on the volleyball team, and they always play together during free time, leaving you to fend for yourself. You don't mind though because your favorite teacher always keeps you busy.

"Heads up." Negan tosses a basketball in your direction and you catch it easily. "Shoot with me?" He asks.

"Around the world or horse?" You ask, letting him choose which game to play.

"Horse, duh." He answers without hesitation.

"Okay, but let's make it interesting." You suggest and his head tilts curiously. "Every letter you get, I get to ask you a personal question. Like truth.. but with basketball." I explain and he nods his head in agreement.

"You mean.. I get to ask you the questions, since I'll be the one winning." He grins, taking the ball from your hand and shooting smoothly from the free throw line. The ball swishes the net with ease and you roll your eyes at his cocky smile.

"Anyone can make a free throw." You shoot the ball, hitting the rim as it bounces off.

"Apparently not anyone." He laughs and you give him the evil eye. "Oh, right! Question. Let's see, I'll start easy. Got any crushes at school?" He teases.

You giggle, watching him shoot from the next spot and miss.

"Yes." You answer simply.

He catches his rebound, passing you the ball. "Well, who is it?"

"Nope. That's two questions." You dismiss him, shooting and making it in the basket.

He nods his head sarcastically at your response. "That's how it's gonna be, huh?"

He lobs the ball in the air towards the basket, missing clearly on purpose and you look at him confused. "What the hell was that?"

He shrugs, widening his eyes playfully. "I missed. Ready for my question."

You giggle as you think of a question. "Do you have any crushes at school?"

"That would be highly inappropriate miss y/l/n."

"That's not an answer."

He chuckles before shooting and making it again. "...Yeah, I do."

Your cheeks burn at his answer, but you don't get your hopes up too much knowing it could be anyone, even another teacher.

The game continues back and forth as you and Negan ask each other questions. He shoots the final shot, missing and purposely letting you win.

"So, what's my final question, kid? Make it a good one."

"Do you ever.. think of me.. in that way?" You ask bravely, knowing you might not get another chance like this one.

"In what way?" He asks innocently, resting his hands on his hips.

You blush, not wanting to say it, so you don't. "Nothing, forget it."

He looks down at you with a more serious than playful expression now and you wish you could read his mind.

"Okay. If you say so." He shrugs, throwing the ball down and walking away towards the hall to his office. "I let you win by the way." He calls out before disappearing.

You mentally curse yourself for not asking him but it's too late, so you make your way back to the locker room, wanting to get dressed before everyone comes back in.

You change out of your sweaty clothes before slipping your dress on with nothing underneath since your sweat soaked through your panties and bra. You feel even more exposed than earlier considering your dress barely reaches three inches below your ass cheeks.

You study yourself in the mirror as his words echo in your mind again like a broken record.

You want my attention? Ya gotta try harder than that.

You don't want to miss out on another opportunity with him, knowing your time with him is running out, so you grab your things and saunter down the hall to his open office, stopping at the doorway before entering.

Negan's attention is focused on his computer screen as he speaks. "Can I help you, doll?"

You ignore his question, bravely walking over to him before shutting the door behind you and leaning your backpack against the wall. You join him on the other side of the room, standing before him as he sits in his chair looking up at you. Chills cover your body when your bare ass touches the surface of his cold wooden desk.

His brows scrunch at your sudden boldness as he moves his chair back slightly, allowing space between the two of you. "What are you doing, y/n?" He asks but it comes out as more of a warning.

"Getting your attention" You place your bare feet on each side of his thighs in the chair, spreading your legs in front of him and shuttering as the cool breeze brushes your exposed pussy. "Do you ever think about me... like this?" You ask, finishing your question from earlier.

The look on his face is unreadable as his eyes drop to your center.

"You wanna know what I think about, y/n?" His voice turns to a raspy whisper. "I think about how tight that little pussy must be...how those pretty lips would look wrapped around my cock." His dark, heavy eyes lift to meet yours and you've never seen them so blown with lust before. "What you'd sound like begging for me to fuck you. How sweet you probably taste.." His eyes drop to your pussy again as his top teeth cover his bottom lip. "And then.. I come to my damn senses and realize I can't fuckin' risk my whole career for some pussy."

Ouch. Your eyes water at his sudden change of words.

Your heart stings at the rejection as you cover yourself quickly and climb off his desk. The end of day bell rings just in time to dismiss you as you head for the door.

"Y/n, wait." He sighs.

But you keep walking, leaving him behind like he did to you earlier. That's the last time he's going to make you feel like a fucking idiot. You tell yourself, frustrated that you let his mixed signals get to you.

"Goddamn it. Some pussy? The hells wrong with me." Negan whispers to himself, sliding a frustrated hand down his face as he leans back in his chair.

He feels terrible for making you feel that way, but he reminds himself it was for your own good. He knows you're about to go off to college, and the last thing he wants is for you to go catching feelings for your someone you can't have.

As a consequence of his good intentions, his cock aches painfully in his shorts while he stares blankly at the empty desk you sat on only minutes ago.

The sounds of students dismissing for the day are long gone as he realizes he's finally alone.

Fuck it. He says to himself before opening his desk drawer and pumping some lotion in his hand. He pulls his heavy cock out of his shorts, immediately gripping it in his hand and stroking it desperately.

His head falls back against his chair as he groans out, imagining your legs spread open in front of him once again.

His hand works his cock up and down, focusing on the sensitive tip as his eyes shut tight. He gathers his leaking precum with his thumb, working circles around the tip, wishing it was your lips instead.

A deep groan escapes his throat as he reaches his climax, spraying his load all over his white t-shirt. "Fuuuck, y/n." His eyes drift open when he moans your name, instantly connecting with yours as you stand from the doorway, watching him get off to the thought of you.

"I forgot my backpack."

Part 2 here

[sillybillylulu]

"-we lived halfway normal now it's just me and my dad were less formal"

first I wanted zuko to be Veronica but then I wouldn't have anyone as jd

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

Destiel Prompt #50-something

The Magician vs the Real Thing

The question will be why is Castiel the real thing. Multiple possibilities:

1. Angel of the Lord

2. Witch

3. Psychic/Natural ability

4. From an alternative universe my where he has been implanted with a device that allows him to do his trick.

5. Superhero (Alien from another world where everyone can do this on his planet or could be just the elite)

6. Military experiment results

7. From the future, eugenically created/altered

8. Artifact/Artefact that gives him this ability to perform his illusions/tricks

If you write any of the prompts, please tag me so I can read the story! I would love to see what you creative minds think up! ❤️❤️❤️

[susyrose-fanart]

Art for Heartland Flyer (Destiel Pinefest 2024)

I had the immense pleasure to illustrate @one-more-offbeat-anthem's wonderful fic for the @deancaspinefest 2024!!

You can read her wonderful fic here 💚💙

And below are the two illustrations I did:

[goldenquillarchive]

Love me out loud

a Idol!Kim and Bodyguard!Kenta AU!

↓Masterlist

In a whirlwind of fame and scrutiny, international k-pop sensation Minsu Kim retreats to his roots in Thailand, seeking solace from the chaos.

As whispers of him leaving his company and his scandal follow him even there, Kim enlists the help of a bodyguard, to shield him from the relentless gaze of the media.

Around the people he loves most, and with the help of Childhood nostalgia, Kim discovers unexpected truths about himself and his heart, leading to a journey of self-discovery and perhaps even love.

MASTERLIST

→ this au on ao3

→ X pt.1

→ X pt.2

→ Info 1

→ Info 2

→ Playlists

→ pt. 1

→ pt.2

→ pt.3

→ pt.4

→ pt.5

→ pt.6

→ pt.7

→ pt.8

→ pt.9

→ pt.10

updates happen when they happen

this is a piece of FICTION, nothing in this is to be taken 100% seriously, none if this is real.

These are FICTIONAL characters.

this is purely made up on headcanons and ideas, none of it is canon.

don't like don't read!

[julesthequirky]

Hunted: Chapter Two

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

Summary: Drinking with a handsome man at the bar wasn’t all that bad. Until it was. Now, you’re trapped with a man you don’t know, in a place you don’t know, where noone can hear you scream. You’re starting to think that this was his plan all along. He mentions a brother, and you hope and pray that if you make it out, that you don’t meet him.

Warnings: Non-Con (Rape), Explicit Graphic Violence, Super dark fic, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Graphic Description, Non-Consensual Touching, Object Insertion, Object Penetration, Forced Non-Consensual Orgasm, Forced Blow Jobs, Kidnapping, Psychological Torture, Physical Torture, Physical Abuse, Manipulation, Asphysxiation, PTSD, Murder, Serial Killer Dean Winchester, Serial Killer Sam Winchester.

A/N: Please. For the love of God, if any of the above triggers you. Do NOT read. You are responsible for your own mental health and the wellbeing of yourself.

A/N 2: Each chapter will involve one or more triggers from the above list.

A/N 3: Please note that the warning list is not an exhausted list, and if something turns up not on the list, I will do my best to add it to the warnings.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Female!Reader, OC Nicole.

W/C: 1,386

“C’mon, wakey wakey. Eggs and bakey.”

Coming to consciousness, you groaned, your head throbbing, and the nausea rolled in your stomach. Semiconscious, mouth dry, you swallowed, and it felt like razor blades had lodged their way into your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut, gritting your teeth from the pain. You went to lick your lips, mind too sludgy to understand why your lips were stuck together.

You had to pick up some more garbage bags. And you had to text Mom back about that thing that seemed important but could wait. Whatever it was, it had slipped your mind. The urge to pee was forming.

Last night came back to you in vague flashes. A bar. Shots. The handsome stranger. Drinking with him. In his truck – whispers, kisses and sweet touches. And then nothing. Your mind drew a complete blank.

“C’mon, darlin’.” His drawl cut through the brain fog, and your senses came rushing back.

The urge to pee strengthened.

The cold floor seared you right through, chilling your bones. Snapping your eyes open, suddenly aware that something wasn’t quite right. Your muscles screamed to be released, hands tied behind your back, ankles stuck together, essentially hog-tied. All you needed was the damn apple in your mouth. Your skin pulled on the tape covering your mouth. You jerked to your side and gasped, eyes widening.

“There she is.” He crooned, his fingers trailing through your hair, tracing your face like a lover would.

Your pulse raced, heart hammering as your chest heaved, stealing breaths one right after the other.

The stranger from last night smiled, but this time, it made your blood run cold, and the at bay panic rose a little more. He laid his hand on your hyperventilating chest. You whimpered. Tears pricked your eyes, and you desperately blinked them away.

“My, your heart’s going hell for leather.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, dragging breaths in and out. You really needed to pee now. The pressure your bladder produced had your thighs clenching together.

From your side, the world was lopsided. It was dark, with a bulb flickering overhead. Four walls, bare. No windows—

A hand gripped your face, pulling your focus away from your surroundings to him.

“Remember me?”

You nodded.

How could you forget a face like his? Especially those damn green eyes. They were seared into your brain.

The cold cement flooring seeped into your legs, and you shivered.

That caught his attention. He turned from your face to your legs, a smirk working its way across his lips.

“Damn, I remember watching you walk in. You looked so confident. So ready,” he trailed a finger along your thigh. “I remember thinkin’ that will change. Every minute the clock ticked past, I could see you deflating.”

You tried shucking away from his touch. It didn’t work. It had you on your front, flopping like a fish.

His hand clamped around your leg, fingernails digging into the flesh.

“I swooped in, saving your desperate ass. And you fell, hook, line, and sinker. Y’see, Y/N…your date was never gunna show because it was me all along.”

He fished a hand into his back pocket and brought out his phone. It took him only a moment to bring his screen to your attention.

Chad Wells never existed. You realise that now, staring at the man’s profile on his phone screen.

Fuck.

Tears stung the backs of your eyes, and you pressed your forehead to the cold floor. It had been a scam. A ruse to cover up his true motives.

Was he going to kill you?

Probably.

Your bladder pained you, reminding you that your basic needs were being squandered. You bet that he didn’t give a damn whether or not you had to relieve yourself.

At least if you peed yourself after being mauled by a bear, the bear would leave you the Hell alone.

Then, in a quick movement, he ripped the tape from your mouth.

“I need to pee. I need to pee.” You begged.

Your lips felt sticky from the residue on the tape.

He looked behind him to a lone bucket in one corner. Your eyes followed his—he couldn’t be serious? But your bladder ached to be released. You nodded, babbled okay, yes, sure. He stood up and kicked the bucket closer to you. It scraped against the concrete floor, stopping beside you.

“I don’t want no funny business.” He said as he untied your hands but left your ankles alone.

Again, you nodded. He turned around, and you fumbled with the button on your jean skirt. You yanked them down and sat on the bucket, hissing as the cold rim bit your skin. You cringed when the sound of running liquid on a tin can filled the space, but the release on your bladder was relieving.

“God, you piss like a racehorse.”

You curled your body inward, acutely aware of how loud the stream was. Every second felt excruciating as it passed.

“You done?”

Nodding, you finished up, buttoned, and the man wasted no time. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and dragged you to the door, feet sliding across the concrete. You screamed, hands flying up to punch and smack at him to get off.

“No! Please! Please, oh, God!”

He flung open the door and dragged you along a corridor. Your screams bounced off the tiles, echoing down the hall.

He shook you like a ragdoll. “Will you shut up!”

You did as he said, whimpering, lip trembling, crying silently, wishing you had never gone out last night.

He stopped by a door. Mud brown. A strange type of star adorned the top quarter of the door, and you managed to catch the number before he turned the brass knob of the door. 21.

A walled grate ran across the room. Two cage doors split the room. One was open, padlock resting unlocked. He shoved you in.

Unable to step forward to catch yourself, you fell, hands slapping the ground, your forehead barely missing the floor. The palms of your hands stung, and your wrists hurt like Hell from taking the pressure of the fall.

Another walled grate split your…cell with another. Peering in the other side, you saw a curtain of dirty, unkempt blonde hair. A small face appeared from behind the hair. And you just knew you’d seen that face before.

The cage slammed shut. The panic rose to your throat. You turned, shuffling yourself to the cage door, fingers gripping between the iron squares. The padlock clicked shut. You looked up at him.

He smiled. Cruel and twisted. He knelt, fingers gripping the metal cage from the other side.

“Look atchu, doll. All caged up, like an animal. Beautiful and scared,” He laughed softly, shaking his head. “I bet there’s still hope somewhere tucked inside. Your roommate soon learnt, aint that right, Nicole?”

He bashed the other cage door, the metal rattling. The small curled up figure jerked, startled, and came closer.

Nicole.

The name was familiar.

An abstract memory of a missing persons flier in your local grocery store, pinned to the wall with Nicole’s bright smiling face, sprung to your mind. She’d been missing for two weeks. Her face was splashed everywhere, accumulating with the other missing girls’ fliers, her parents and friends desperate to have her back.

They were all from the state of Kansas.

The Kansas Killer.

Now, your face would accompany the many victims he’d taken the lives of.

You swallowed thickly. The thought of your body never being found had your blood running cold. Because the police hadn’t found a single body yet.

Nicole was a husk of herself. Her hair hung in front of her face, and she avoided looking anywhere. She shook at being in his attention. He crooked his finger, gesturing for her to come closer. She cowered.

“C’mon, Nicole, show Y/N that it’s pointless to hope. Make ol’ Dean proud.”

Dean. The Kansas Killer’s name was Dean.

Looking at Nicole, she was doing a great job at pitting despair in your belly. She’d been here for two weeks. Is that what he did? Kept them alive. Only to ‘play’ with them. Whatever that was, you didn’t wanna know, but something in your head said you’d be encountering that pretty soon.

[aulupus]

I love the dynamics between the Union executives and their No.2's. Like, you put Jimmy, Wolf, and Jake in a room together and they're like hissing cats. Meanwhile, Jack and Hwangmo are in the hallway, silently bonding over how they're constantly herding said hissing cats. Dean never participates because he thinks of himself as above the other sidekicks.

[deancaspinefest]

Significant severe

Author: Tossukka | Artist: girlinthemirrorbluenight

Posting on Monday March 25

A TV meteorologist Castiel Novak believes storm chasers who livestream their adventures online must only be looking for adrenaline rushes from dangerous situations. When an attractive storm chaser Dean Winchester and Castiel meet at their shared alma mater’s alumni event, they end up arguing over the issue. To show Castiel the realities of his work, Dean invites Castiel to join him on a chase for a few weeks. Castiel is intrigued, and unexpectedly, his employer agrees to let him count it as field work. After their disastrous first meeting, Castiel expects to share a civil but distant working relationship with Dean. And yet, in the volatile atmosphere of the tornado season, both the storms and Castiel’s attraction to Dean grow more intense day by day.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

“Now, now, storm chasers are an important part of the weather industry. You know that as well as I do, Castiel,” a man said speaking in a British accent. “Personally I just don’t think the people who voluntarily drive themselves in the middle of what is often hell on Earth can be in their right minds. They end up blocking the roads and making an already dangerous situation even more so,” the one who had been called Castiel said. Dean frowned. “But they do good too. Collect data, confirm warnings, save lives.” “I’m only saying I believe they must have some self-destructive tendencies, that is all.” Dean couldn’t listen more without interrupting. “Excuse me?” he said and pushed his way to the two men. “Sorry for pushing my nose where it doesn’t belong, but I couldn’t help overhearing the discussion.” The dark-haired man’s bright blue eyes widened a little as he saw Dean. There was a hint of recognition in them, and Dean suspected the man already knew who he was. “Heh, my name is Dean Winchester. Well, I work as a storm chaser among other things. Your discussion sounded interesting,” Dean introduced himself. “Oh-ho! There we go, Cassie. You can talk to a professional about your suspicions,” the British guy said. “Call me Balthazar, Dean. Nice to meet you.” Even in the middle of his annoyance, Dean couldn’t help noticing Castiel was just his type. Except that he was clearly an asshole. Well no, that also had been very much Dean’s type over the years. Shit. “So Cas, you think I like risking my life for cheap thrills then?” Dean asked, not bothering to beat around the bush. Castiel frowned. “Don’t you?” “Oh dude, it’s so much more than that. I can admit there’s an element of thrill being so close to the greatest forces of nature, but just so you know, storm chasers take a lot of cautionary measures to keep themselves safe during chasing,” Dean said. “It’s not just aimlessly driving around like maniacs and blocking roads from other citizens. There’s a lot of science connected to it, and a bit of experience needed to keep yourself and others out of trouble.” “I don’t doubt that, Dean,” Castiel said. “I’m sure you are very good at what you do. But you are putting yourself needlessly in danger.” “I’m not,” Dean said. “Listen, have you ever been storm chasing?” “No.” “Okay then,” Dean said. “How about this? Do you want to join me for the peak of the Southern Plains tornado season? Let’s say May? Two weeks, full month, whatever works for you. Get a taste of the cheap thrills.” “I…” Cas hesitated. “I don’t think I can take that much time off work.” “I’ll give you some time to consider,” Dean said and pulled out his business card. Charlie had designed them, and they had a little drawn picture of his beloved Impala driving towards a looming comic book version of a tornado next to his name. “Call me if you want to try it.”

(continue reading on Ao3 on Monday March 25)

[whipitgod]

Okay im gonna be sitting down tomorrow to write these fics but i want your guy’s help picking a prompt idea for the destiel fic!

[ravkanbarrelcrow]

AU in which Claire lives with Destiel, Sam and Jack and they want her to have her prom experience. Claire thinks it's stupid, she's grumpy and would rather go on a hunt, but ends up having one of the best nights with her family (including Jody and the others too 👗🎤)

[crowcountry]

i finally finished supernatural and i’m doing the only normal thing (writing fanfiction)

[samsgff]

*Using the events of s5 with a little bit of alternations*

⚠️ tw for suicide nd alcoholism ⚠️

Once Sam jumped into the hole dean felt like he was stabbed right through the heart.

Days, weeks, months had gone by and Dean was still grieving. See everyone has their own way of grieving Dean's way was to rot at Bobby's house, he did not move an inch from his bed, he let himself drown completely in his sorrow. Bobby tried his best to convince him to go on hunting trips with him and constantly told him it'll help, but dean's only reply was "I'm done".

Day after day, the bottles of boose kept increasing, but drinking was his only escape. It was his way to numb the pain, it was his way to fill in the void inside of him that kept growing ever since the incident. It was his way to be at peace, it allowed him to sleep without rewatching his brother jump to his death. However some coping mechanisms lose their purpose at some point. The alcohol was not doing it for the now only child winchester, even so he tried to keep on going but what was left for him to hang on to if the only person he ever cared for was gone? And so one night, when Bobby was out, Dean went looking for some pills and since he knew Bobby more than his own father he knew exactly where he kept them so it didn't take much time for him to find those colorful tablets. He wrote a farewell letter to his adoptive father his one and only father, thanking him for taking him and his younger brother under his wing and apologized for being such a pain in the ass for the past few years. Dean knew the right dose, he always has. As he swallowed those pills down with whiskey he could feel the inside of his stomach already lightning up in flames, but he didn't care, he wanted it to end, he wanted to be where he belonged, in hell, next to his sammy.

Few minutes later, everything went silent, his body was completely numb, his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

The old man arrived at his house, he opened the door, it was quiet way too quiet. He placed his keys on the coffee table and called out: "Dean?" his eyes caught the letter, he opened it with shaky hands, that can't be, Dean wouldn't do that he tried gaslighting himself. He dropped the letter and ran as fast he could breaking down the door and holding Dean's unconscious body between his arms. "No Dean wake up" He yelled. "Wake up now boy" he yelled again as his eyes filled up with tears. "Dean don't do that to me" he mumbled while holding his body closer to him. "Castiel!!" he screamed. "Get down here cas now!" he screamed again hoping the angel would answer his prayers. And he did. "what happened?" he asked confused. "Fix him now or i swear" Bobby threatened. Cas placed his hand over Dean's forehead and it only took a few seconds before he opened his eyes again.

He adjusted himself, looked at his hands all confused.

"No no noo" he screamed in anger.

"WHY DID YOU BRING ME BACK?" he looked at the angel and his adoptive father with eyes full of tears.

"i was ready to go i was ready to die" he yelled.

"Well too bad because i wasn't" Bobby snapped

"the only person who brought a purpose to my life is gone. The only person i ever loved and cared for and looked after is gone. And there's a hole inside of that just keeps on growing and growing everyday and it- it hurts it hurts so much i thought- i thought i could numb the pain but it's crushing me it's sucking the life out of me i can't i just can't" he cried out.

Bobby and Cas stood above him, with sadness and despair in their eyes.

"i think i could help" Cas mumbled

Dean looked up to him with the tiniest bit of hope.

"i could erase every memory you ever had with sam it would be like he was never your brother- like he never existed" he continued while avoiding eye contact.

"no i can't allow that" bobby added

"this is my decision bobby" dean replied firmly.

"do it cas" he said as he stood up and faced him.

"but this is going to hurt" castiel warned him before proceeding.

"i said do it" he repeated.

The angel placed the palm of his hand over the hunters forehead and channeled every power he had, it didn't take long before dean fell to his knees screaming as all of the memories with his younger brother flashed before his eyes. Bobby looked away since he couldn't handle seeing his son in that condition.

Once it was over dean fell to the ground unconscious.

"his body is going to need a little of time to readjust" cas told Bobby in a reassuring tone.

"i hope you realize the consequences of what you just did" the adoptive father added before leaving the room and slamming the door behind him.

[nyxlinak]

Imagine that the end of Supernatural is actually Sam going to live his dream of having a normal life and Dean keeps hunting. The two brothers go separate ways but keep calling each other, Dean come visit Sam whenever he can et Sam makes it clear that he is always welcome in his house at any time. Maybe Sam even help Dean with some hunts sometimes without it having an impact on his life. Sam marries a sweet girl, they buy a nice house and gets a puppy.

Later, Sam end up having a son, a literal mini version of him and Dean becomes the BEST uncle ever who wears leather jackets and picks him up at school in his cool car. When the boy becomes a teenager, he learns about monsters and hunting. Then something happens idk what (probably Sam being kidnapped by monsters) but it ends up with the boy riding shotgun in the Impala while Dean drives with metal music on. Both, uncle and nephew, going on a hunt together to find their brother/dad.

[take-it-on-the-run]

Bridge Over Troubled Water

Dean Winchester, Reaper!Reader

Dean Winchester didn't want to know what life was going to be like without his brother, and he didn't intend to learn

Word Count: 2.5k

Tags: Suicide attempt, angst, major character death, minor injury, typical cannon violence, angst with a happy ending

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reaper!Reader

Read it on AO3!

A/N: Simon & Garfunkel title. This has been stewing in my drafts since August, so I'm very happy I was able to finally finish it! This is set around season 5 (Dean is 30 and Sam is 26). PLEASE heed the warnings, and please don't read further if this story will make you uncomfortable. Unbeta'd and every single mistake is mine :)

Rain clung to a man as he peered over the rails of a bridge he couldn’t name. It was big enough to have a name, he was sure of that, but not big enough for people to be driving by at three in the morning.

His hands wrapped around the steel beams meant to keep cars from tipping over into the rushing waters below. They were cold to the touch, but he didn’t feel that. He could barely place one foot in front of the other, let alone feel anything besides the hollowed-out hole in his chest.

His car was parked just off the side of the road less than half a mile away, keys still in the ignition, lights blaring onto the tree trunks that ran on for as far as the eye could see. There was no one for miles, the only souls accompanying him in those moments being those of the rodents scattering into crooks and crannies to hide from the rain.

A heavy weight shifted in his pocket, nudging against his thigh, reminding him why he was standing alone in the rain. He couldn’t comprehend that in the morning, people would come looking for him, that he would be missed; that he would be mourned. He only knew the pain that was engulfing his very being, pushing him closer and closer to life’s edge.

He wanted to compare it to Hell, but he knew that in Hell he’d at least pay for what he’d done in the form of flames and pure, unimaginable agony, like he’d experienced all those years ago. Here, he could only wallow in the fact that he was alive, and the only person he’d give his life for wasn’t.

The first time he tried to pitch himself over the rails, his foot slipped and his head collided with the metal. Blood trickled down his forehead as he remained on the ground. Any other time, he’d be able to climb anything, anywhere; but now all he could hear was the sound of the river below calling for him.

Join me. It said, beckoning him to his feet once again.

Though he couldn’t see me, I was there watching him as he tried to will himself to take his own life. Standing a mere ten feet from him, leaning on the opposing set of rails, I watched as he clambered upright. In complete honesty, I didn’t know if he’d do it or not. I did, however, know that he wasn’t meant to be there. He was meant to pass in a horrible accident three weeks before at his own hands, leaving his brother the only survivor. His name was in my book, and I was meant to take him to the great hereafter, only to find him standing over his brother’s body.

The man didn’t know it, but his brother was there too, watching him on that bridge. He tried to get his brother to hear his pleas, but he couldn’t, so he turned to me.

He begged me and begged me to not let his brother take his life. This had happened many times since I started my life’s work, people trying to offer me their souls in place of a loved one’s, but my duties remained as they were. I’m a pathway to the afterlife. No more, no less. Never once had I prevented someone from dying, never once had someone slipped between my fingers, and never once had I stuck myself in Earthly affairs.

I leaned into the rails silently, letting the rain fall onto my bare skin. I could imagine how cold it was for him, shivering and bleeding as his world seemed to crumble.

His brother clung to my side, clawing and tearing at my skin as he wailed for me to let his brother live, that his soul should be enough for me to have.

I turned to him and looked into his widened eyes, and all I could do was wonder. Wonder why such a young man was content in his own death, and why he didn’t want his brother to die as he did.

“You Winchesters and your family bond. You know Samuel, there aren’t many people out there who aren’t pissed at the person who killed them.” I said as I acknowledged the youngest Winchester for the first time since he started our conversation.

“He didn’t-” Sam looked to his older brother, still oblivious to my presence, “-my death wasn’t his fault. You got your soul, now you can report back to your big boss and just leave Dean alone, please.”

I turned to him, ready to tell him that my kind didn’t deal in souls, but was interrupted when the click of a handgun made Sam and I turn our heads.

“Are you my reaper?” He asked, matter-of-factually, poorly aiming his pistol in my general direction. I took a step toward him, the rain beginning to fall more violently.

“We both know you’re smart enough than to try and use that on me, Dean,” I said, ignoring his question as I took more steps toward him.

“Answer-” Dean readjusted his slipping grip on the gun, eyes wearily trained at me. “-answer me.”

“I was your reaper, yes,” I answered, closing the distance between us, cool metal pressed against my chest.

His eyes were green and sunken; packed with tears, veins, and blood. His pupils darted around my face expectantly, begging me to do something, make his pain simply go away.

I felt a heavy pang in my chest, that hooked onto my heart and sunk to my feet.

I reached up to his face, gently cupping as I skimmed my fingers over untrimmed facial hair. He flinched as my hand made contact, probably expecting to get ripped from his body.

“Don’t be afraid, Dean. He’s safe.” I said gently. His eyes closed, and he leaned into my palm as he let out a heavy breath.

“He isn’t angry at you. You know, he practically begged me to come stop you.” I smiled, smoothing over the gash on his forehead. The deep cut disappeared as my fingers skimmed over it, offering him some relief.

“It’s not fair-” Dean choked out, coughing as the weather around us began to take its toll on his body. “-Sammy, he’s got a whole life ahead of him. College, a big lawyer job, a normal life. All I’ve got is hunting, and waiting to run into someone sharp enough to finally get me.”

His teeth chattered in his mouth, and the metal against my chest disappeared as he let his arms drop to his sides.

“Big talk coming from someone who’s barely thirty,” I said, watching as Dean pulled away from my hands, and returned to leaning on the rails.

“It’s the-” Dean starts.

“-the life, yes. So I’ve heard from a great number of hunters.” I finished his thought as I joined him on the rails. “Why is it that all of you think your lifespans are so short? Hunters back In, I don’t know,” I wave my hand as I’m trying to come up with the words, “the seventeen hundreds still lived longer than a lot your folk do nowadays.”

He creased his eyebrows, his eyes flickering over my face.

“All I’m saying,” I take a long look at the sun starting to crawl its way over the horizon, “is that ‘the life’ doesn’t have to be your life, Dean. I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but you don’t have to die in some horrific fight that finally puts you down. Hunters have died of old age, you know.”

He looked at me, the freckles on his face more visible now that the rain was calming down, “but Sammy… he deserved his happy ending more than I ever will. He got out. Got a full-ride scholarship to freakin’ Stanford. Had a girl. I didn’t even have the guts to tell him how proud I was. I’d stand outside his dorm room for hours, trying to figure out a way to come see him without Dad, or without him hating me. I shouldn’t have dragged him back into this, and now he’s dead. In my place.”

“It’s the natural order of things, Dean. If not him, then you, and if not you, then some other person had to die that day.”

“But it didn’t have to be Sam. I would’ve gone just the same way as he did, but at least he’d have something dragging him forward, to move on.” He looked at me again with those tired eyes, letting out a sharp breath as his hands clung to the railing again, leaning his torso off halfway.

“Dean,” I said cautiously, watching his knuckles turn white as his heart quickened and eyes shut, “Dean.”

His feet were moving fast, and in one swift moment, he was off the bridge. His body flung over almost effortlessly and catapulted him down to the rocky waters below.

I turned away, expecting him to appear next to me in a moment, but his voice rose through the air instead.

“What…?”

I looked over the railing, only to see Sam was holding his forearms, holding him from his forearms before he could drop.

I turned to the younger Winchester brother, who was solely focused on trying to save his brother’s life, his spectral hands losing their grip the longer he held on.

“Dean, hold on, please. Please, man, just hold on. Don’t give up on me.”

Dean’s head snapped up, looking straight at his brother.

“Sammy?” Dean choked out, his legs starting to kick frantically as if he were trying to walk on air.

“Help me, help me get him up. Please.” Sam turned to me, struggling to hold onto his brother.

I blinked and I was beside him, yanking up on an almost-limp Dean, and throwing him onto the road of the bridge.

Dean lay on the ground, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. Sam knelt beside him, his eyes filled with remorse.

“I didn’t want to give up on you, Sammy,” Dean whispered, his voice barely audible over the gentle rustle of the damp morning breeze.

Sam’s heart clenched at the sound of his brother’s voice, filled with a mixture of pain and regret. “I know, Dean,” he replied, his voice choked with emotion. “It’s not your fault. You never gave up on me. You took all of dad’s crap, and I mean all of it. The yelling. The hunting. The abuse.”

Dean looked at his brother before he went still, not saying a word as he clutched his chest with pale blue hands. His breaths grew shallower, his body beginning to tremble from the exertion and the cold rain that drenched him throughout the night. Sam glanced around frantically, feeling helpless in the face of his brother’s suffering.

“He needs help. Help him,” Sam said, his voice urgent as he looked up at me, desperation clear in his eyes.

I nodded, my heart heavy with the weight of the situation. “I’ll do what I can,” I replied, my voice solemn. “But I can’t interfere with the natural order of things.”

Sam’s shoulders sagged in defeat, but he refused to give up. “There has to be something you can do,” he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. “Please, just help him.”

I hesitated, the pull that the Winchester seemed to have with the universe was something even Death couldn’t withstand; but who was I to interfere? As I looked down at Dean, lying battered and broken on the ground, I could hear the cracking of his ribs drowning out my thoughts.

With a heavy sigh, I knelt beside Sam and Dean, moving Dean’s hands away from his chest with little force. “I’ll do what I can,” I said, my voice softer.

I laid my hands on Dean’s chest, warmth spread through his body, chasing away the chill of the rain and easing his pain. His breaths grew steadier, his trembling subsiding as color started returning to his hands.

Sam looked on in awe, tears welling in his eyes as he watched his brother’s condition improve before his very eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude.

I nodded, a small smile touching my lips. “Take care of him,” Sam said, his voice barely above a whisper, and I nodded. “He’s gotta lot of fight left in him, and someone has to keep him up and running.”

I chuckled, moving to the side of Sam as I waited for him to pull away from Dean. The two of them sat there in perfect silence, staring into the blankness in front of them. I could barely hear Dean’s breath through the wind that curved between the air around us.

“I have to go, Dean,” Sam said, turning to face them as they both sat on the edge of the empty road.

“I can’t do this without you Sammy, I don’t want to,” Dean said, catching stray tears with the back of his hand. He took his brother into a firm hug; it was as if he was holding him to Earth, and to life itself.

“I love you so much,” Sam said as he rested his head on Dean’s shoulder, Dean taking in a shuddered breath. Sam slowly pulled away from him, and stood beside me, trying his best to smile, “bye, Dean.”

Dean looked up at his brother, nose red and raw from the tears that coated his face, hiccuping as he failed to drown his emotions with a weak smile, not saying a word. He scooted away from the road, sitting himself up against the rails as he watched me and Sam walk down the bridge, and out of view.

I can’t say that I forgot that day, especially when I was called again for Dean. He lay on a hospital bed, his once dirty blonde hair replaced with silver tufts, complemented by wrinkles brought on from years of stories to tell, and different kinds of scars in new places.

He looked just as he did that day on the bridge when he came to stand by me, watching the woman beside him, hair just as gray as his, holding onto his hand. An anti-possession tattoo peaked out from under her long sleeve as she reached over to plant a kiss on his forehead, watching as his heart monitor ran flat. After a few moments of silence, nurses came into the room, looking over Dean’s body as the woman shuffled out of the room and walked through Dean and me with a shudder.

“Hello, Dean,” I said, smiling gently, preparing to lead him out of the room when there was a laugh from behind us. Two hands were placed firmly around Dean before I could realize who it was.

“You ready? We’ve got a lot to catch up on, you know.” Sam said as he pulled away from his brother, the both of them smiling like I’d never seen before.

[julesthequirky]

Hunted

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

Summary: Drinking with a handsome man at the bar wasn’t all that bad. Until it was. Now, you’re trapped with a man you don’t know, in a place you don’t know, where noone can hear you scream. You’re starting to think that this was his plan all along. He mentions a brother, and you hope and pray that if you make it out, that you don’t meet him.

Warnings: Non-Con (Rape), Explicit Graphic Violence, Super dark fic, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Graphic Description, Non-Consensual Touching, Object Insertion, Object Penetration, Forced Non- Consensual Orgasm, Forced Blow Jobs, Kidnapping, Psychological Torture, Physical Torture, Physical Abuse, Branding, Manipulation, Asphysxiation, PTSD, Murder, Serial Killer Dean Winchester, Serial Killer Sam Winchester.

A/N: Please. For the love of God, if any of the above triggers you. Do NOT read. You are responsible for your own mental health and the wellbeing of yourself.

A/N 2: Each chapter will involve one or more triggers from the above list.

A/N 3: Please note that the warning list is not an exhausted list, and if something turns up not on the list, I will do my best to add it to the warnings.

Characters: Female!Reader, Dean Winchester, OC Nicole, Sam Winchester.

W/C: 2,740 (so far)

Chapter One

Chapter Two