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deanbrainrotwritings · 2 months

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— THE CULT OF DEVOTION

SUMMARY : “Hii! New follower here, can I request a smut with yandere dean winchester? :)” — anon

PAIRING : vampire!dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : Andy Halle (OMC)

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), baker!dean, stalking (it’s only hot if dean does it), angst, unhealthy obsession, yandere!Dean, nerdy reader, reader isn’t perfect, chronic illness, and more to come

WORD COUNT : 4.8k

A/N : fob song title. the last time I read a yandere fic was like seven years ago about Min Yoonngi of BTS, I hope it's accurate. this series is for the square for stockholm syndrome on my @jacklesversebingo card. this is super fricken late, but come on, vampire!Dean has my heart (and pu*sy), lmao. Let’s please pretend that vampires have sexy teeth, ‘cause what the fuck, Supernatural? xx

September, 2023

Dean couldn’t remember the last time he felt this alive.

What was it about you that made his breath catch? And the irritating tease that his heart should flutter? As if at any moment his desiccated heart would start beating again after twelve years of being in between dead and alive?

Why did your existence call to him and become the centre of his life since he met you? How had only thirty minutes passed since he felt a gravitational pull from you? Like waves, gentle, invisible waves that weren’t meant to be felt by anyone. Somehow, they caressed his… something… God, his heart? His soul? Did he even have one of those anymore?

He wasn’t sure of anything. But he was sure that he loved you.

He heard your quiet, but excited “Oh, my God.” from the entrance of the bakery he’s proud of being the owner of. He looked up to gloat, but the smile fell from his face when he saw you smile tenderly, in awe, at the decor and then the dozens of menus on a rack by the entrance.

You didn’t know, unfortunately, but as the glass door shut behind you, the sun poured over you like honey. The sunlight dripped down your skin and hair and made you glow brighter and more captivating than any angel he’d ever seen. The wind carried the scent of you to his nose, your saccharine shampoo and sugary skin overpowering the confectioneries he’d created.

The Milky Way Galaxy lived in your eyes when you looked over at the displays, admiring his hard work. You swiftly took one of the menus from the rack, the one hiding in the back, and your eyes avoided the counter at all costs. You made yourself small and unnoticeable by standing in a corner that no one would go near as you whispered—but he heard you clear as an angel’s voice—“oh, yum.”

The door opened again and your hair teased your skin like soft tendrils and every move you made was painfully, naturally graceful. You sneaked a quick glance at the door and then thoughtfully watched as the unimpressive person walked straight towards the counter.

Dean could feel his throat burn and his lips turn dry. Not hungry for blood, more than anything, he longed for a taste of your lips.

He could smell the rose tint on them and smelled traces of it on your cheeks. He could only feel you. The flutter of your curled lashes, the delicate breaths you took, the way you shivered from the door opening. You huffed in irritation, pulling your green cardigan closer to your warm body. He felt his skin tingle as the cotton brushed against your skin, against the tight white tank top wrapped around your torso.

He loved the way your cropped shirt rode up at your waistline and the sight of your warm abdomen over your mid-rise jeans. If he could, and he really wanted to, he’d kiss every inch of your sweet skin to feel it blaze against his cold lips. From your ankles hidden beneath bunny-print socks, to the top of your breasts teasing him from the dip of your shirt, up to your neck where your pulse ran with the blood of your heart, but mostly, to your reddened lips as your white teeth sank into the plump flesh after being swiped by your pink tongue.

You looked better than anything he’d ever baked.

“Hey, Dean-o, how’s work?”

He hated to turn away from you, but he did, to momentarily put his attention on Andy Halle, who came by every weekday around 5:35 every afternoon. His hazel eyes scanned the menu above, but Dean didn’t expect him to change his order anytime soon.

“Work’s fine. What’ll it be today?” Dean’s eyes flickered back over to you. You stared with nervous familiarity at Andy and Dean noticed your hesitation. Your eyes darted to the exit and Dean was so desperate to talk to you for the first time that he considered shouting after you. But he didn’t know what to say to make you stay, he might even scare you off.

“I’ll just have what I always have,” Andy mumbled sheepishly.

“Alright,” Dean huffed out a distracted laugh and held his breath the moment your eyes locked on his. It felt strange that his heart didn’t react, he waited with frustration for it to start beating again, pumping warm blood through his body, and up his face at the way you regarded him curiously. You smiled after a few seconds and averted your gaze shyly, seeming somewhat embarrassed. Dean bit his lip, unsuccessfully stopping his smirk from growing, and focused back on Andy just to ease the blood that had risen up to your cheeks.

Dean took the crumpled money from Andy and handed him his change, but the rest of Dean’s senses were still fixated on you. You sighed bravely and your heeled boots brought you closer to the counter that Andy was now leaving after murmuring a thanks.

Unfortunately, your introduction to Dean was stalled when Andy looked up from his phone to avoid bumping into you. Your name slipped from his mouth in quiet awe and Dean reeled at the knowledge he’d been yearning for. He somehow managed to tear himself away from the place he was rooted to, and murmured your name under his breath, dreamily.

He started making Andy’s drink and eavesdropped on your conversation with him. He’d glance up at you and Andy in between tasks.

He caught the awkward, uncomfortable hug Andy seemed to enjoy more than you did and your calculated gaze in his direction again. Dean couldn’t help smiling at you again when your eyes found his and you returned it bashfully before focusing back on Andy.

Dean wished you would keep your gaze on him. That you’d smile at him longer and bid Andy farewell so you could finally interact with him.

But you seemed slightly excited to see Andy, despite the nervousness that settled beneath. And Dean’s stomach sank, like a mini black hole that sucked in his insides, a heavy feeling inside him as he considered that maybe you were immune to his charms. Every woman he came across seemed to lose their composure and train of thought.

But you didn’t do that. You ignored him as if he were just debris in your orbit. To him, it was unacceptable that you would allow the light of your smile and eyes to shine on someone as ordinary and undeserving as Andy.

He didn’t have a problem with Andy before. But now he did. Dean could point out a hundred physical flaws and a billion flaws in his personality just to make you see that Andy didn't deserve to consume a single second of your precious time.

Dean couldn’t believe he was jealous.

He relaxed his grip on the counter and breathed air he didn’t actually need to relax himself and focused on making Andy’s coffee—which Dean believed was unnecessarily sweet—while he seethed.

Why was he jealous of Andy Halle, a boring ex-military guy? Maybe because Andy seemed to know everything about you that he wanted to know. Why did you give Andy your time when you could be talking to him instead? Sure, it’s just be you ordering your drink or your dessert, but something was better than nothing and he needed to be in your galaxy, to be a part of your stars. Even if he was just Pluto in your solar system, as long as he got to be around your perfect, burning light.

His stomach churned, his jaw clenched, irritation burned at his chest, and he considered making Andy’s drink incorrectly just to spite him. Andy puffed his chest, flexed his arms beneath the Henley as if trying to get your attention, to impress you, but you seemed distracted by a tiny imperfection on the marble floor.

“You look amazing, how are you doing?” He asked, slowly reaching over to touch your arm. You snapped out of your daze when he did and subtly pulled yourself away from him.

You seemed nervous again, your words came late and they were careful only when responding about yourself, because after that, you rambled like a person inexperienced with socialising. “I’m great. How was Poland? I know that was ages ago, but that’s the last I heard of you, I’ve been so busy with my PhD-”

“You got your PhD already?” He interrupted you. Dean smelled the blood rush up to your face again and you stuttered to dismiss such a big achievement. “I’m still working on my Bachelor’s-”

“Everyone works at different paces,” you interrupted him before he could put the spotlight on you and intensify the light. “Bela double majored Accounting and Economics and graduated a year earlier than I did. There was a 55 year-old in my graduating class, as well. He was very smart and he helped me out a lot whenever I was stuck. Every person is different and education doesn’t have to be rushed.”

Your words had Dean wondering what you would say if he told you he dropped out of high school and only acquired his GED? Would you be as kind? Would you downplay and dismiss all your greatness just to lift him up? Would you work twice as hard to bury yourself in the nonexistent shadows just so you could hide in plain sight? As if you could ever be ordinary. As if anyone had a shadow big enough to hide you, his Sun.

Andy just laughed, fondly and reminiscent. He must have caught the hint that you didn’t want to talk about yourself. He must have forgotten and only then remembered the way that you were, and that maybe you were still the same in some ways as you were before, because he changed the subject for you.

Dean felt worse. He wanted to have had all that time with you. To have all that intimate knowledge of the inner workings of your mind. He wanted to have an intricate map of your soul and your heart. He needed it like he needed blood to keep himself soft and far away from being desiccated.

“Poland was alright. I just did a tour there. Met some great guys there. We went to a couple of other places in Europe and the Middle East. What about Bela and Daph? They didn’t follow you here?” His tone was teasing and your exhale was sad, but your words didn’t reflect the grief Dean felt coming from you in agonising waves.

“Come on, we’re not gonna be the Three Amigos! forever,” you laughed halfheartedly. Your reference excited Dean, but he focused on closing the lid to Andy’s hot drink and carefully pulled the chocolate croissant out of the heated oven beneath the counter. Could you be any more perfect for him? “Daph’s starting to work at some fancy law firm in California and Bela dragged her girlfriend to New York for some high-paying job,” you shrugged indifferently, but Dean noticed your loneliness.

He knew better than anyone what it felt like when people weft and weave themselves into your life only to find those threads completely severed from you. Separate destinies. Like seeing himself as a vampire now, having his traumatised brother now trapped in a psychiatric ward for the foreseeable future, and his best friend being consumed by thick black goo—ceasing to exist.

That was his life now: all alone and out of place in a bakery.

At least he had something now. You, and in the fifteen minutes that he prepared Andy’s order, he knew more about you than he imagined he’d get on a first meeting.

You were born here in Lawrence but you’d moved away to go to university with your two best friends. The three of you were focused on separate majors, but somehow the cardings of the three of you were of the strongest metals. You built your resume, prepared yourself with your knowledge and skills in genetics there, before coming back here.

While Daphne focused on ambition, being the best lawyer, Bela focused on accumulating wealth and building a family with her girlfriend Rose. You… What were you up to? What were your dreams? Your hopes? Your ambitions?

You sounded as dead as he felt. As dead as he was. Like nothing mattered to you. When did that start? Was that always a thing with you? He figured it must have been since Andy seemed to be unsurprised by your jaded attitude towards life.

Imagining you in a lab coat was suddenly the sexiest thing ever. Even the image of you with your hair pulled up looked sexy in his mind. Were geneticists supposed to be sexy? Or was that just the porn-induced image his mind produced? Maybe you were just sexy in every way and discovering what you’ve been up to since you’d last seen Andy, only made him want you more.

Dean couldn’t fathom objectifying you. You were too good for that.

“Have you had any flare ups?” Andy asked and Dean frowned as he placed the warm snack into a small paper bag on the counter about to call Andy’s name to gain his attention. But he was curious and slowed down. Flare ups?

“No,” you replied, but Dean heard the jump in your pulse. You liar. What were you sick with? “I’m better now. I think your order’s ready.” Dean tried to act calm when you said that and needlessly took two napkins to put above the brown bag containing the hot croissant to look busy.

“Oh.” Andy stole a look at Dean just as he pushed the cup and bag to the edge of the counter. Andy wavered. “I’ll see you around, right? We can catch up? Go somewhere, even?” He seemed pathetically disappointed and desperate to get to see you.

Your delayed response made Dean’s lips quirk up. He wanted you to crush any chance or hope that he would spend time with you. But you were probably too kind to be that cruel. “Maybe not for a few days. I’m still unpacking and settling into work. But maybe once everything is calmer, we can hang out.”

Dejected, Andy nodded, forcing a smile so dimples appeared on his cheeks. He looked down at you when you looked away at the counter, with love in his gaze, romantic love. Dean wanted to vomit in his mouth, but his body didn’t work that way anymore. “I hope everything goes well for you. I really missed you.”

“Um, thanks,” you smiled and nodded towards the counter. Wow, that’s cold, Dean thought as he held back a sneer. But you seemed more distracted than intent on hurting his feelings. “Before it gets cold. Any suggestions?” You began to walk towards Dean and if he could, he’d pant and hyperventilate at your closeness, even if you were still a distance away from him.

“Right,” Andy inhaled and shook his head gently so his light brown waves shook against his forehead, “you should probably try the rhubarb pie. You still like pie?”

“Yes,” you grinned, bright and playful. Dean would marry you if you were even remotely interested in him.

You were standing right in front of him.

Finally, Dean could see you clearly. You wore no makeup besides the tint that brought colour to your lips and cheeks. Your smooth skin against the light was downright kissable. But not as kissable as your plump lips, even if they were slightly chapped beneath the pinkish tint you wore. He bet your mouth felt amazing.

You smiled, relaxed, showing your pretty teeth. For the first time, Dean wished you’d sink your canines into his neck. And then, your tongue poked out to ease the dryness of your lips and he imagined you’d lick the bite marks you’d leave behind on his throat. He’d love the burn of your saliva on his cold skin, the trail of wet warmth along where his pulse would be pounding with excitement if he were alive.

He ached for you. Could you please just be his already?

Andy took his drink and the bag with napkins on top.

“Can I text you?” He asked as he began to retreat.

“Uh, sure,” you shrugged, noncommittal. “I’ll give you my new number so we can message each other outside of social media, just remind me.” Andy grinned happily at your response and Dean looked down to hide the way he rolled his eyes.

Dean wished you hadn’t done that. He wanted you all to himself. The only hope Dean had that you didn’t return Andy’s feelings was the lack of warmth and heat in your gorgeous eyes, a look which only seemed to steam from Andy’s hazel-greens.

“I do gotta get home, my dog’s all alone.”

“Don’t keep Price waiting,” you teased. Andy laughed as he made his way out and your smile relaxed more into something neutral once you were alone with Dean.

Except, now, Dean couldn’t find words. What happened to his brain?

“Hi,” your shy little smile was an electric current that jump started his entire body. Dean swallowed, but smiled as he gazed down at you, he hoped he didn’t look as in love with you as he felt.

“Hey,” he breathed out.

He watched you still, your longing gaze intensified as your eyes swept over the desserts on display once again. He didn’t want to rush you, he wanted to keep you from leaving as long as he could, but you didn’t want to waste his time. He could tell by the way you’d look up at him with your adorable wide eyes.

“Sorry,” you smiled ruefully.

“No, don’t worry about it. You want the rhubarb pie?” He asked softly. You relaxed visibly at his patience and fumbled with something in the small front pocket of your jeans.

“Um,” you looked around at the displays indecisively. “Yes, I’ll have that,” you confirmed and Dean was only slightly disappointed that you’d made up your mind so quickly. He nodded and prepared to take a slice from the pie. Should he serve you a big size?

He felt your gaze on him as he moved around. Fuck, he wanted to blush. Could you reignite his soul already and just allow him to feel human again?

“What do you think I should try?” You asked curiously, breaking him out of his reverie. He could feel you leaning forward carefully, not enough so your body touched the glass that protected the desserts, but enough so the thin silver necklace resting against your collarbone clinked against the glass.

Dean looked at you through his lashes and retrieved the generous slice of pie from the rest of its body to place it into a small cardboard box. Your eyes moved over his face inquisitively.

“Currently, I’m having fun making Sweet Rolls,” he suggested.

You raised a brow, inquiring silently about what exactly that was and he chuckled, but your explorative eyes still moved to every little detail on his face as he spoke and smiled.

He wondered what you saw. What would you discover about him? Could you see his imperfections? The scars from his previous life. Did you like what you saw? The freckles that he hated. Could you read the pain he feels? Or the love you rekindled?

He dropped his stare to focus on the way he closed the slice of pie inside the box, hoping to hide himself from you. Only he could contain you in his gaze, because he already knew you were beautiful. He didn’t know what you’d think of him and he didn’t think he could bear it if you saw what he saw in the mirror: the opposite of everything that you were.

He grabbed another small box and stole the sweet roll from its warm home. The small confection looked like a miniature version of a Bundt cake, the white glaze poured over the sides looked too perfect to be real. Well, he chose the perfect one for you. He slid the box towards you and looked up to find your eyes still navigating his face. You averted your gaze and bit your lip, flustered. God, you were so cute.

You clenched your small hands and placed them behind your back as you admired the sweet roll instead. He smirked at you, he would kiss you if it wouldn’t have freaked you out. How could someone be so beautiful and soft? You looked just like the sweet roll to him.

“It looks like videogame sweet rolls,” you remarked and glanced up at him again. He would never tire of you.

“Heh, I really liked how they looked, so I decided to make them.” He shrugged. You hummed, this time he watched you as you pondered and turned the sweet roll. You nodded in agreement.

“I like how they look, too, I’ll try it.” Dean smiled and closed the box, placing it next to the pie. You smoothed your hands against your jeans then rubbed your nails together as you watched him.

“Want anything to drink?” He asked, anything to keep you around.

Your eyes flickered up to the menu, your expression was thoughtful, so Dean allowed himself to be distracted by thoughts of you.

At least you didn’t hate him. That was something, right?

He still wondered how you felt about him and what you thought of him. How much did you like him? Did you think he was cute? Pretty? Did you want to see him again? Maybe outside of the bakery? Or did you just think he was nice and unintrusive? Just… ordinary. Not even friend material. Just the local baker. An acquaintance.

“Just, uh… hazelnut coffee with creamer. Small. That’s okay?” Hmm, an unpretentious, but delicious coffee. Just like you. Effortlessly amazing. But why were you asking for affirmation?

“Yes,” he reassured you with a laugh. No matter how many times you became flustered, you were unwaveringly confident and brave. You glanced at the sewn word that spelled his name over his unbeating heart and his lips twitched into a wide smile.

He turned around to start making your drink despite longing to keep admiring you. At least he could feel you, your heat and your sweet air. He could hear you, your gentle breathing and your nervous heartbeat. And smell you, your expensive perfume and flowery shampoo. Even the sweet honey of your lotion.

“Do you live near?” He asked, because… well, you didn’t think he was a creep, right? He looked over his shoulder and you contemplated him. Your eyes locked with his, he watched them soften and then you looked down at the boxes of sweets in front of you.

“Smack in the middle of the forest,” you admitted. He hummed softly and put a lid on the cup of your hot coffee. Conveniently enough, you wouldn’t have too many neighbours. Maybe he could have a look around your place and not get caught. “It’s my childhood home,” you added methodically, he could sense you were editing parts of your story. He wanted the raw and dirty details, but whatever you wanted to give him was enough. “My mom moved away when we all left to start up our lives. My siblings prefer to live in cities, but my mom and I never did, so she left me the house. It wasn’t favouritism, just sentimentality.”

You were more like your mom, then. He wondered what she was like. What was her name? Did she look like you, too? Did you two talk at all? What was your relationship with her like? Were you like your father at all? What was he like? And what about your siblings? How many did you have? What were they like? What role did you play in your family?

And why else did you like Kansas? It can’t just be about the forests. Did you like the people? The memories you made with your old friends in town? Did you like the locations? Where did you hang out the most before you left? He couldn’t ask you those questions now, they were too invasive.

“And your dad?” Dean asked, scribbling your name with a loving smile on the cardboard sleeve. Why didn’t you say anything about him?

Your silence didn’t go unnoticed. He frowned when he turned to see you and your distant eyes, the troubled pinch between your brows, and your pouty frown.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to pry,” he lied, he wanted to know everything about you. Were you like him? Cursed with daddy issues?

You blinked and smiled tightly. No, please, let the light shine on him with your genuine smile.

“No, it’s fine. My mom and dad got divorced…” He wanted to know more, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything that would make you frown. He smiled at you, hoping it would comfort you as he brought you your coffee. You struggled to maintain his gaze this time, but you must have felt something because you waited when you took the coffee from him. He could feel the warmth accumulate in your palms and he waited with you. “Do you… have you ever felt that you wanted to hate someone because they’re so horrible to you, but you just can’t? Like… sometimes you’re sure you hate them, but when you realise who you’re hating… it all just goes away and makes you feel awful?”

Has he ever? Of course. He understands how much it hurts. He felt that way forever about his dad and his mom. Especially when he learned everything that he did about their past—thanks to the angels and the demons. He hated his dad, but he also respected him, and would even take a bullet for him. He even found that he hated his mom, but he also loved her to pieces. All at once. It’s enough to tear anyone apart inside.

“Yeah, I think I know what you mean,” he murmured, it took everything in him not to reach out and caress your warm cheek. But it was as if he had, because you pressed your face into your shoulder in embarrassment, then you did a double-take at the cup of coffee. You seemed intrigued as you pressed your fingertips against the black ink that spelled your name on the cup sleeve in his neat, capitalised lettering.

He bit his lip and wondered impatiently what you were thinking of. Couldn’t you just spill your sweet words—completely uncalled for—like every other woman he came across?

Instead he turned to the cash register and placed bogus numbers in because he really liked you. He lowered the prices for what you purchased and he was relieved that you didn’t question the cost when you tapped your phone against the screen to pay. You were gonna cost him more than he would have liked to admit to himself, but you were so worth the loss.

He grabbed a paper bag and carefully placed the boxes inside for you. He wanted to give you his number. Would that throw you off? Would that scare you away? How can he be close to you without being so creepy and annoying?

“Thanks… Dean,” you exhaled softly. Dean’s stomach tightened and he struggled to keep himself from getting too visibly excited about his name sounding so dreamy and mellow blooming from between your pillowy lips.

“No problem,” he whispered, his voice incapable of being as normal as he wanted to appear. He watched you pick everything up to leave and he dreaded that you’d have to go away to your own life. “Have a great evening, sweetheart.” You looked up at him, amused and delighted with something that he did. What was it? Tell him, so he could do it again, so he could see the light burst in your eyes like your stars had been born because he was the missing element needed to bring life into your universe.

You breathed out a laugh, heat flooded your cheeks, and Dean felt triumphant. He didn’t know what made you smile the way you did, but at least he finally discovered what you had in your pocket when you took it out. You dropped a green bill folded into a small square straight into the tip jar he kept beside the register and he raised a brow curiously.

The countless bills and coins inside didn’t surprise him, but they appeared to interest you. People found him charming. They liked him. Women loved him. Did that mean the same thing to you? Did you like him? Or find him charming? Did you.. love him?

“Thanks, you too,” you turned away after a short pause and Dean really couldn’t help his leery gaze once you had your back to him. You were so hot. Even from the back.

He waited for you to leave before fishing the tip out of the box, he wanted to have it framed, he’d do anything to keep it as a reminder of you. He unfolded it and blinked in shock at the hundred-dollar bill. Then, he grinned boyishly, you definitely liked him.

-> an introduction to creative captivity

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imyourbratzdoll · 2 years

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𝐀 𝐖𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞

welcome to the land of fairytales, where desires you never knew you had will come true. thank you @georgiapeach30513 & @royalsweetteaa for helping me with this.

18+ only please, do not copy, repost or translate my work. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

!warning! these fics will include inter-species relations, size differences, innocent kink, age gaps and dark content.

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𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐬:

𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 - pairing: prince ransom drysdale x princess reader

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𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 - pairing: prince frank adler x mermaid reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆'𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 - pairing: street rat lloyd hansen x princess reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒓 - pairing: prince lance tucker x maid reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒔 - pairing: beast ari levinson, beast logan howlett, beast geralt of rivia x princess reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒆𝒏 - pairing: bossy clark kent, sleazy johnny storm, dirty curtis everett, brawny steve rogers, cranky bucky barnes, tipsy dean winchester, horny sam wilson x witch/princess reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒃𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒊 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒆 - pairing: hunter lee bodecker x shifter reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 - pairing: mad hatter jefferson x dreamer reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒍�� 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒉𝒐𝒆 - pairing: scarecrow jake wyler, tin-man rick grimes, cowardly lion jake jensen, oz andy barber x lost reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏’𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 - pairing: hansel steve kemp, male gretel nick fowler x witch reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒅 - pairing: big bad wolf luke danes x little red riding hood reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔 - pairing: tarzan tangerine x jane reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒆 - pairing: giant august walker x female jack reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 - pairing: captain hook negan, captain hook jack sparrow x tinkerbell reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒕, 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅, 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 - pairing: alpha bear ari levinson, alpha bear henry cavill, alpha bear lee bodecker x goldilocks reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒘𝒂𝒏 - pairing: prince steve rogers x princess/swan hybrid reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒐𝒉, 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒖𝒎𝒃 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔… 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒅𝒔 - pairing: mermaid jennifer check, mermaid rosalie hale, mermaid jane smith x clueless reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘 - pairing: mufasa ari levinson x scar sergei kravinoff (kraven the hunter) x lioness reader

೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀

#imyourbratzdollwork #a whores fairytale #chris evans fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfiction #logan howlett fanfiction #henry cavill fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #sam wilson fanfiction #rick grimes fanfiction #luke danes fanfiction #negan fanfiction #captain jack sparrow fanfiction #jennifer check fanfiction #rosalie hale fanfiction #jane smith fanfiction #tangerine fanfiction #kraven the hunter fanfiction #sergei kravinoff fanfiction

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zepskies · 1 year

Text

Devour Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1

Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭

Word Count: 5,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: "Telenovela Style"

Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.

Andy grips you with the strength of a monster.

Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood.

No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.

Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming.

When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done.

He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his.

“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.

“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”

In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires.

Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.

The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest.

By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital.

Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead.

You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.

The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness.

He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?”

You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him.

You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son was dead.

Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it.

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says.

Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”

Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you.

“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls.

You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.

“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.”

“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps.

Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.”

“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”

His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms.

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely.

You truly become incensed at that.

“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres, coño. Sigue jodiendo conmigo. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks.

You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?

You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn.

Dean calls your name in frustration.

“What?” you hiss.

The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks.

You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything.

Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.

You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.

After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town.

You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.

What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own.

That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes.

Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back.

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence.

He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.

So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space.

He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music.

What the fuck?

After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts.

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table.

Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.

At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.

He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.

“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips.

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard.

Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself.

“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart.

Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”

You give him a wry look.

“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.”

But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible.

You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.

Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.

He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.

“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”

You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him.

“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—”

“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand.

“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”

You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.

“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”

That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it.

Dangerous, for both of us.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes.

And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms.

“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing.

“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.”

Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.

“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”

You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.”

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday.

It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea.

More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”

He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet.

Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.

You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”

Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room.

“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.”

“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips.

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”

Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”

You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.

“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.

But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve.

Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head.

“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.

It’s then that you know you’ve won.

So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing.

You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.

Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand.

When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”

A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.

But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.

“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.

“What’s this one?” Dean asks.

“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance.

This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing.

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”

Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.”

You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot.

“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”

Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.

As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.

“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”

Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit.

You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest.

“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.”

You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”

You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders.

He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.

“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”

You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance.

“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.

“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles.

You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss.

You stop him with your finger on his lips.

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question.

“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking.

“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts.

You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine.

After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close.

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.

He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.

A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck.

“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there.

And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms.

A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.

He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.

You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.

Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)

You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze.

“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him.

“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.

Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.

Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs.

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye.

You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”

Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms.

Oh, fuck yeah.

A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs.

Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up.

Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.

Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control.

So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.

And suddenly, he blinks them open again.

“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls.

You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums.

He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk.

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground.

Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit.

He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck.

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.

“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”

A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you.

“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.

Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...

“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.

It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask.

Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”

A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”

At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.

“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”

Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love.

Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.

You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze.

“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease.

His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts.

“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.

But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs.

“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”

When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.

So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.

However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase.

It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room.

“Damn it, Dean!”

You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest.

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”

“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment.

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room.

But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again.

When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.

Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand.

AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️

Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:

(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)

[During their fight]:

“Que sin vergüenza tú eres, coño. Sigue jodiendo conmigo. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Translation:

“You’re fucking shameless. Keep messing with me. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”

[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]:

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”

Translation:

“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”

Keep Reading:

Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):

Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)

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siampie · 3 months

Text

Get Off the Highway || Chapter 6

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings/tags: Enemies to lovers trope, angst, childhood trauma, eldest daughter syndrome

A/N: It had been hard to write for this reader but now, I have a hold of who they are. And I hope you love to read more about her. And yes, this fic is self-indulgent, but I’m also exploring my self-loathing and at times self-worthlessness. I’m getting better at loving myself and being kind to myself but it takes times. So, if you’ve ever felt this way at one point in your life, know that you are loved, you are enough, and you don’t have to prove anything. Enjoy this chapter, it’s for you; my girlies and my non-binary friends.

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Dividers by @cafekitsune

You kept replaying the talk you had with Andy. It was stuck in your head, playing in a loop, what would your life be like if you had given a chance to the relationship? No matter the number of scenarios you’d come up with, the ending was always the same. You would have ended up resenting each other or worse, destroying one another.

You packed your stuff and jumped into your truck. And you drove. Where to? You didn’t know. You just needed to get away from Andy. You no longer wanted to be confronted to your own mistakes. Being with Andy had not been a mistake but leaving had. You were a coward for this, you knew that. Andy was free of you. He could be happy now, if he wanted to. He could find someone better than you. But you could not escape yourself. You could not run away from all the dark thoughts that plagued you, more often than not.

You drove for hours with no real destination. You didn’t want to go home. Your brother; Matthew; would be there and he would want to talk. And that was the last thing you wanted. You didn’t want your brother to tell you that Andy wasn’t all that great. You didn’t want your brother to tell you that you were right to leave. You knew you weren’t. Not in the way you did, at least. He deserved an explanation. Or at the very least, a goodbye. You gave him nothing.

You were a coward.

In the wee hours of the morning, you were parked outside of the bunker. You remained seated in your car, watching the sun rose. You could not conceive the idea to deal with your family at this moment. You did not have the energy or the will to do so. However, dealing with Dean Winchester and his apparent hatred of you seemed easy. At least, you knew where you stand with him. You didn’t have to perform with him. You could be yourself. You didn’t have to pretend to be something you were not to please and appease. You could be your worst self and he would not care, because he didn’t expect any better from you.

There was no pressure.

Although, you thought it would be easier to deal with Dean Winchester, you stayed in your car. You sat in your car, parked outside of the bunker for hours. Maybe it was a bad idea to even be there. Maybe you should just start your car and leave again, find a new case and go to work. Your knuckles turned white as your grip on the wheel painfully tightened. You dropped your forehead on it, taking a deep breath.

“Why am I like this?” You muttered to yourself.

Three loud knocks snapped you out of your thoughts. Your head snapped up, your heart racing beneath your ribcage. You glared at the man outside of your window.

“Bucko!” You growled, “the hell is wrong with you?”

Dean was standing outside of your car, a grocery bag in his arms. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt you in the middle of your midlife crisis, princess.” You rolled your eyes at him. “You look like shit by the way.”

“Didn’t ask but thanks.” You glared at him, opened your car door, hitting him.

“Easy tiger,” he put a protective hand around the kraft bag. “You’re gonna crush my pie.”

You walked around your car and grabbed your bag from the trunk, “yeah, it would be such a great tragedy.” Dean made a face. “What? It’s just pie.” You shrugged.

“It’s not just pie, okay?” Dean shot back, as you two started towards the bunker.

Bickering with Dean was easy. It pulled you out of the dark place you had thrown yourself into, for a very brief moment. You were not about to plague them with your temporary crisis. You just needed a place to unwind before going back to reality. The reality in which you were so fucked up you could not maintain a relationship with a good man. The reality in which you were not good enough for anyone, not even for your siblings, nor were you for your parents. The only one that seemed to care about you; was your little brother. But even he, you thought, would probably be better off without you. And one day, he would realize it and he, too, would leave.

You turned and tossed. Sleep was refusing to come to you. You huffed, glaring at the ceiling of your room. The sheets felt too heavy on your body, the pillows weren’t fluffed enough. Nothing seemed right. Too many dark thoughts swirling around in your mind. You turned on your side, tucked your arm under your pillow, and let out a deep breath. Hoping for the whirlwind of emotions, and the dark thoughts would leave you be.

It lasted a few minutes. You huffed again in frustration. You threw the covers off of you and got out of bed. The floor was cold under your bare feet. Dressed in dark leggings and an old shirt, you quietly made your way to the kitchen.

“Why am I like this?” You kept asking to yourself. Not than an answer would miraculously fall on your lap. You just couldn’t decide whether you were born this way or your parents made you so. Leaving to deal with the consequences of the years of neglect and abuse.

“Can’t sleep, princess?” Dean’s voice boomed from behind you.

“Jesus Christ!” You exclaimed, dripping some hot coffee onto your hand.

“Somebody’s jumpy tonight,” Dean snorted.

“You ought to wear a freaking bell,” you shot back.

“You should probably lay off the coffee. It ain’t really good for the nerves.”

You glared at him. “You’re really funny, you know that.”

Dean sat at the table, his back against the wall. His eyes roamed over your curves, appreciating the way the leggings clung to your thighs and ass. If it wasn’t for your attitude and the way you acted around him and his brother, he’d probably try having you in his bed. But he didn’t think you were worth the headaches.

You placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him, and sat across from him.

“Isn’t it a little too late for coffee?” Dean took the cup in his hands nonetheless.

“You’re not obligated to drink it, bucko.” You retorted before taking a sip from your cup.

Dean took a sip from his own cup, eyebrows raising into his hairline. He was surprised to find out that your coffee was quite good. The best he had in a while, not that you needed to know about that.

You were staring at the table with a deep frown. A heavy sigh left your lips. The coffee help eased a bit of the tension in your shoulders but wasn’t exactly doing much.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” Dean said after a few minutes. “What crawled up your ass?”

You looked up at him. “Nothing.” You shrugged. “And even if there was something, you think I want to talk about it with you. Of all people.”

He pushed off of the wall, and angled himself to face you fully. “Suit yourself, princess.” He leaned his elbows on the table. “All I’m saying is you’re here, in the middle of the night, drinking coffee.”

“So are you.” You pointed out. “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

Dean huffed out a laugh. “Well, I asked first.”

“Real mature,” you snorted, shaking your head a little before taking another sip.

Dean Winchester hated you. So, why did he even care to know about your inner turmoil? Your eyes roamed his face, going from his green eyes to his lightly freckled nose, to his plump lips that were begging to be kissed.

You shook away the thought, confused as to why you were thinking about his lips.

“What?” Dean questioned, a frown on his face.

“Nothing.” You quickly said. “Why do you hate me so much?” You blurted out before you could even think about it.

“Like I’m the only one,” Dean retorted.

“I don’t hate you.”

“Really?”

“I’m only reacting to you,” you told him, defensively. “You’re all huffing and puffing, every time I show up.”

“Come on, you can’t be serious, right?” Dean shot back. You shook your head lightly, frowning. “You’re always so—snob,” he finally spat. “Like you’re above us or something.”

“That’s not true,” you said back. “I never thought I was—above any of you.”

“You certainly act like it,” Dean nodded at you. “Like you know better than we do.”

“I did know certain things better than you and your brother. Not everything.” You shot back. “Can you really blame me for being smart?”

He stood up from his seat, “you’re not smart. See, smart people know how to follow simple instructions.” He put his used cup in the sink.

“Not if they’re stupid instructions.” You countered, going to put your own cup in the sink.

He glared down at you, breathing quickly through his mouth. “They’re keeping you alive, princess.”

“Yeah?” You said a little breathless, “so, I should have just left you and your brother to die, then?”

“Didn’t know you cared so much about my safety, sweetheart?” Dean smirked at you.

Your breath hitched in your throat, “I don’t—”

“GUYS!” Sam’s voice cut your answer short, “really? It’s the middle of the night. Can’t this wait until morning?”

“He started it.” You weakly said.

“Now who’s 12?” Dean shot back.

You glared at him, blowing out a long breath through your nose. You walked away from him, and quickly apologized to Sam as you walked past him. You were asking a simple question. You genuinely wanted to know why he hated you so much? Why couldn’t he just answer like normal people? Instead of provoking you, as he often did. As though he enjoyed riling you up.

And was that truly what he thought of you? You had been called many things in your life but a snob and a know-it-all—never.

You plopped down onto your bed. More furious and agitated than before. Dean Winchester was the bane of your existence. He solely existed to rile you up, to anger you, to vex you. And he enjoyed every second of it, it seemed.

Why must he be this way?

A middle-aged woman wearing a simple white dress, with a pink shawl, and a straw hat on her head stood before you. You didn’t know her. You had never seen her in your life. You weren’t truly sure about this. Her features were fuzzy, unclear. Although, she felt familiar. You were surrounded by other people, people that remained faceless. Someone was introducing to those people but you didn’t remember, or you couldn’t care.

“You know we care for you, right?” The woman in the pink shawl said. “We always have.”

“Then why didn’t you take us with you?” You asked back.

She looked at you, sadly. Sorrow was etched in her features, she looked away from you. You felt it in your chest, the regret, the sorrow, the pain. It was all on display on her face, that she now kept hidden from view. You felt grief clawing at your chest. So much so, you couldn’t help but cry.

You woke up sobbing. The sorrow and grief you had felt in your dream, followed you in reality. You had never met this woman, she wasn’t family. She wasn’t even remotely an acquaintance. You didn’t know why she would say those words to you. But it wasn’t her words that hurt you, that caused your tears. It was the way she looked at you, the grief etched on her face was so strong.

“Why was she so sad?” You whispered to yourself. You rubbed a hand on your chest, soothing the ache you were feeling. You tried to stop crying. It was just a dream, you kept thinking. A simple dream, it shouldn’t affect you that much. And yet, this woman that you did not know, had felt grief and regret. She had felt them so strongly, you had felt it in your own bones. You tried to stifle your sobs behind your hand. Muffling them down.

Dean walked past your room to look for a drink. He had been able to sleep some but he didn’t sleep much these days. Whether it was his nightmares or just out of habit, he found himself awake in the middle of the night, at times, seeking for a strong drink. When he walked past your room, he heard the muffled sobs.

A soft knock on the door warned you of his presence, “hey, princess, you okay?”

You quickly wiped the tears away from your face, “yes, I’m good.” You hiccupped, nodding quickly.

“Doesn’t sound like it.” He stepped further into the room.

“No, I swear I’m good.” You said again, “it was just—a weird dream.”

“Are you sure it was a dream and not a nightmare?” Dean questioned.

“No, it was a dream.” You wiped the fresh tears that had fallen on your face, “I’m sorry.”

“Come on,” Dean extended his hand out to you. “You look like you could use a drink.”

“It’s a week day.” You said after Dean had put down the drink, in front of you.

“It’s Friday, practically the weekend.” Dean answered, “I’m sure it’s okay.”

Your tears had slowed down but still, you were still confused and full of sorrow. And you just didn’t know why you felt that way. The pain in your chest was real, almost unbearable. The grief that arose there was real, you just didn’t know what it was all for. You didn’t think it mattered anyway.

“Wanna talk about it?” Dean asked you.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, staring at the table. “There’s not much to say about it.” And yet, you described to him what had happened in the dream. How the look on this woman’s face that you could clearly see, in spite of her fuzzy features, had stricken you. How even then, as you were telling it to him, it made you cry again. “She looked really sad.” And fresh tears spilled out of your eyes. “I know it’s stupid, I don’t even know why I’m crying about this. It’s just a dream.”

“It’s not stupid.” Dean reassured you, sipping from his drink. “And like you said, it was just a dream. None of it was real.”

“But what I felt, was.” You said back, taking a sip from your drink. “I mean it wasn’t just sadness. It was—regret, you know. The kind of look you give someone when you wished things were different. Like—”

“Hey, it was just a dream.” Dean reminded you. “No reason for you to dwell on it.”

“So, I should just forget about it?”

“Yeah, you should. It won’t do you any good to try and understand it.” Dean leaned his back on the wall to his left. “You had a good cry about it. Dream is over. No reason to dwell on it.”

“Maybe, you’re right.” You puffed out a long breath. “I should not think about it so much.”

“I'm always right.” Dean quipped back. You huffed out a laugh.

Both of you sat in silence, savoring the cheap whiskey. It was the bottom shelf kind. Not really chosen for its taste but rather for the way it burned on its way down. Maybe Dean was right, it was just a dream. It meant nothing. Still, you couldn’t shake the pain you had felt at the look on her face. Whether you wanted it or not, this grief-stricken look would stay with you for days.

“I have to ask, what’s up with the—uh—no weekday drink rule?” Dean questioned.

You let out a long breath, “I have a weird fear of becoming—addicted to alcohol.” You slowly admitted. “Growing up, I saw what alcohol could do to people. Especially, to my dad. To us.” You shrugged, “so, I decided to have a nonalcoholic drink on weekday rule.” His eyes roamed your face, quietly. “That has been bothering you for a while, hasn’t it?”

“Can’t say it didn’t.” He brought the drink to his lips, “but I get it.”

“Cool.”

You gave him a small smile. The dream had been long forgotten. At least for now. Maybe, he was right, the dream meant nothing. So, no need to worry about it. If nothing else, the dream had the merit to bring you and Dean Winchester closer.

Or at the very least, made you see each other in a new light.

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#dean winchester angst #dean winchester fic #dean winchester #dean winchester x plus size!reader #some comfort at the end #PS: I had a dream like that a few months ago #And yes I still cry about it. That woman's face is haunting me to this day.

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layce2015 · 1 year

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Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

All Hell Breaks Loose Pt. 1

Masterlist

*3rd Person POV*

"Hey, don’t forget the extra onions this time, huh?" Dean said as they pulled up to a small diner. "Dude, we're the ones whose gonna have to ride in the car with your extra onions." Sam said as Dean hands him the money. Dean grins and Sam gets out of the car, sighing, (y/n) rolls her eyes as she gets out as well. "Oh joy." She mutters, sarcastically.

"Hey, see if they’ve got any pie." Dean said to them. Glaring, Sam shuts the door as (y/n) shuts her doo as well. "Bring me some pie!" Dean yells as Sam and (y/n) head towards the diner. "I love me some pie." Dean mutters as he watches the two go into the café and talk to the waiter.

Suddenly, Dean's car radio becomes staticky. He glances down and fiddles with it, but it turns off completely. When Dean looks back up, the inside of the café is empty, no waiter, no Sam, no (y/n). He runs into the café as country music is playing, one customer at a booth is dead, face down in a puddle of blood.

Dean draws his gun. "Sam? (Y/n)?" He calls out as he paces forward and looks around. He finds that the employees are also dead, with their throats slit. Then he opens the back door and looks around outside. "(Y/n)?! Sam?!" Dean shouts then he notices something on the door and runs his finger over it.

"Sulfur." He mutters then he races back out the front door, heading back to the car. "Sam! (Y/n)! Sammy! (Y/n)!" Dean yells but no response. "Sam? (Y/n)? Sammy! (Y/n)!" He calls out as he looks around but no response. "SAAAAM! (Y/N)!!" He shouts, panicked and worried.

*(y/n)'s POV*

I start to come to and see that I had woken up in the middle of nowhere. I was lying on the ground then I turn my head to sed a few abandoned buildings lining the street, I stand up and take out my phone, but got no cell reception. "Damn it." I growled and I began to look around.

I continue to search the deserted town but don’t find much. Most of the buildings are broken down or locked from the outside. Suddenly, I hear a creaking noise nearby then I grab a plank of wood, ready to fight. I brandish the plank, when I heard a voice shout. "Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" I get a better look and see Sam and Andy, who had jumped back, startled.

"Sam? Andy?" I said and Sam goes to hug me. "Oh thank God." He said as I patted his back. "(Y/n)! What are you doing here?" Andy asked me. "I don’t know." I replied then I look at Sam. "What's going on? Where are we?" I asked him and he shrugs. "Is Dean here?" I asked. "If he is, I haven't seen him." Sam said.

Suddenly, we hear a woman screaming in the distance, we run and approach another deserted building. She is locked inside, banging on the door for help. "Hello?" Sam calls out. "Help me! Help me, please!" The woman cries. "Okay, we're here. We’re gonna get you out, all right? Just hold on a second." I said as we go to the door.

"Please!" She cries and Sam grabs a large rock and smashes the padlock on the door. "All right, one second." Sam said and he unlocks the door and Ava steps out. "Ava?" Sam and I said, shocked, and she looks up at us "Oh my God! Sam! (Y/n)!" She sobs and she gives Sam a gigantic hug.

"So, I guess you guys know each other." Andy said as Ava goes to hug me. "Yeah." Sam and I said. "How did you—I mean, how did you—" Ava stammers before I speak up. "Ava, have you been here this whole time?" I asked her. "What whole time? I just woke up in there, like, a half an hour ago." She said to us.

"Well, you’ve been gone for five months. My brother, (y/n) and I have been looking for you everywhere." Sam said. "Okay, that’s impossible, because I saw you two days ago." Ava said, looking between me and Sam. "You didn’t. I’m sorry." I said.

"But…that makes no sense. That’s not—oh my God! My fiancée, Brady! If I’ve been missing for that long, he must be freaking out!" Ava said and Sam and I exchange worried looks. "Well…" I said then Ava notices Andy and looks at him, confused.

"Hey. Andy. Also freaking out." Andy said, nervously. "Okay." Ava said then she turns to me and Sam. "What’s happening?" She asked. "I, uh, uh, we don’t really know yet. But I know one thing: I know what the four of us have in common." Sam said then we hear a man’s voice, calling from the distance.

"Hello? Is anybody there?"

"Maybe more than four." I said to Sam and we run to the side of another building to see a man and a blonde girl. "Hello? Hey! Hey, you guys all right?" I called out to them. "I think so." The man said.

"I’m Sam." Sam greets.

"And I'm (y/n)." I said.

"I’m Jake." Jake said.

"Lily." The girl said.

"Are there any more of you?" Sam asked them. "Naw." Jake said. "How did we even get here? A minute ago, I was in San Diego." Lily said. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I went to sleep last night in Afghanistan." Jake said to her.

"Let me take a wild guess: you two are both twenty-three?" Sam asked them and they look at him, shocked. "We all are. And we all have abilities." Sam said. "What?" Jake asked. "It started a little over a year ago? You found you could do things? Things you didn’t think were possible?" I asked them and they both nod. "Sam and I have visions. We see things before they happen." I said.

"Yeah. Me, too." Ava said.

"And I recently found out I can move objects, too." I said and Sam nods at me. Sometime after I told Dean about my new power, I went and told Sam about it, who seemed shocked by this, but he was also worried.

"Yeah, and I can put thoughts into people’s heads. Like, make them do stuff. But don’t worry, it, I don’t think it works on you guys. Oh, but get this –- I’ve been practicing. Training my brain, like meditation. So now, it’s not just thoughts I can beam out, but images, too. Like, anything I want. Bam! People, they see it. This one guy I know – total dick, right? I used it on him: gay porn. All hours of the day." Andy said and he laughs. "It was just like…you should have seen the look on his face." Andy said as the others look unamused, at best, disgusted at worst. "Uh…okay." Andy mutters.

"So, you go, Simon says give me your wallet, and they do?" Lily asked and Andy nods then she turns to Sam and Ava. "You have visions?" She said then she turns to me. "And not only you have visions, you can move objects. That’s great! I’d kill for something like that." She said.

"Lily, listen, it’s okay—" I started to say but she shakes her head. "No. It’s not. I touch people? Their hearts stop. I can barely leave my house. My life’s not exactly improved. So, screw you. I just wanna go home." She growls at us.

"And what, we don’t?" Jake asked her. "You know what, don’t talk to me like that, not right—" Lily said and Sam steps forward. "Hey, guys, please. Look, whether we like it or not, we’re all here, and so we all have to deal with this." Sam said.

"Who brought us here?" Andy asked. "It’s less of a who. It’s...more of a what." I said to them. "What does that mean?" Ava asked and Sam and I exchange a look. "It’s a...it's a demon." Sam said and Lily huffs out a breath of disgust.

*3rd Person POV*

Bobby and Dean were parked on the side of the road, poring over a map. "This is it. All demonic signs and omens over the past month." Bobby said to him. "Are you joking? There’s nothing here." Dean said, annoyed. "Exactly." Bobby said.

"Well, come on, there’s gotta be something. What about the, the, the normal, low-level stuff? You know, exorcisms, that kind of thing." Dean said. "That’s what I’m telling you: there’s nothing. It’s completely quiet." Bobby said.

"Well, how are we supposed to look for Sam and (y/n)? What, do we just close our eyes and point?" Dean asked and his phone rings. It's Ash, calling from the Roadhouse.

"Ash, what do you got?" Dean answers. "Okay, listen, it’s a big negatory on Sam and (y/n)—" Ash said. "Oh, come on, man! You’ve gotta give us something. We’re looking at a three thousand-mile haystack here." Dean exclaims, annoyed.

"Listen, Dean. I did find something." Ash said. "Well, what?" Dean asked. "I can’t talk over this line, Dean." Ash said. "Come on, I don’t have time for this!" Dean said, annoyed. "Make time, okay? Because this –" Ash stops as a customer walks by, and says to the customer. "What’s up? What’s going on?" He asked. The customer passes by, and Ash goes back to Dean.

Not only does this almost definitely help you find your brother, this is... it’s huge. So get here. Now." Ash said and he hangs up.

"I guess we’re going to the Roadhouse. Come on." Dean said to Bobby as he puts his phone away and the two get into the Impala and drive away.

*(y/n)'s POV*

"So, we’re soldiers in a demon war to bring on the Apocalypse?" Jake asked us after Sam and I explained what we think is going on. "When you put it like that—" Sam said, shrugging. "And, and we’ve been picked?" Jake asked. "Yes." I replied.

"Why us?" Jake asked. "We're not sure, okay? But look, we just know—" Sam started to say but Ava speaks up. "Sam, I’m sorry. Psychics and spoon-bending is one thing, but demons?" She asked. "Look, we know it sounds crazy, but—" I started to say.

"It doesn’t just sound it." Jake said. "I don’t really care what you think, okay? If we’re all gathered here together, then that means it’s starting and that we’ve gotta—" Sam said but Jake interrupts again. "The only thing I’ve gotta do is stay away from wackjobs, okay? I’ve heard enough. I’m better off on my own. FYI, so are you." Jake said and he starts to walk away.

"Jake, hold on. Jake!" I shout but he ignores me and continues walking. We go to follow him until we hear a screeching sound. We go over to into an abandoned schoolhouse and see a girl laughing and her nails grow to form claws, and her face contorts as she stalks towards Jake.

"Get back!" Jake yells as Sam and I enter the building, Sam grabs an iron poker and hits the girl with it. She dissolves into a cloud of black smoke, which exits the schoolroom. The others join us.

"Just so you know? That was a demon." Sam said to Jake, who looks horrified. "Now, that thing – I’m not sure, but I think it was an Acheri. A demon that disguises itself as a little girl. That still doesn’t tell us where we are." I said as we walk out of the building and I look over at Andy, who looks terrified. "Andy, are you with me or what?" I asked him.

"Give me a minute. I’m still working through, Demons are real." He said as we keep walking. In front of one of the buildings is a large, rusty bell hanging from a wooden structure. "I’ve seen that bell before. I think I know where we are now: Cold Oak, South Dakota. A town so haunted, every single resident fled." Sam said.

"Swell. Good to know we’re somewhere so historical." Ava said with sarcasm. "Why in the world would that demon or whatever put us here?" Lily asked. "I’m wondering the same thing." I said and Sam nods.

"You know what? It doesn’t matter. Clearly, the only sane thing to do here is get the hell out of Dodge." Lily said and she starts to walk away. "Wait, hold on. Lily, the only way out is through miles of woods." Sam said to her.

"Beats hanging out with demons." Lily grumbles. "Lily, look, we don’t know what’s going on yet. I mean, we don’t even know how many of them are out there right now." I said to her.

"Yeah, she’s right. We should—" Jake started to say but Lily screams at us. "Don’t say we! I’m not part of we. I have nothing in common with any of you."

"Okay, look, I know—" Sam said but she talks over him. "You don’t know anything! I accidentally touched my girlfriend." She yells and we look at her, stunned. "I’m sorry." Sam said, softly, and I nodded at her. "Whatever. I feel like I’m in a nightmare, and it just keeps getting worse and worse." She said.

"I’ve lost people, too. I have a brother out there right now that could be dead, for all I know. We’re all in bad shape. But I’m telling you, the best way out of this is to stick together." Sam said to her. "Fine." Lily growls and Sam nods, and we continue looking around the town.

"We’re looking for iron, silver, salt –- any kind of weapon." Sam said to them. "Salt is a weapon?" Jake asked. "It’s a brave new world." I said. "Well, hopefully there’s food in your world, because I’m frickin’ starving." Andy said and I chuckled a bit.

*3rd Person POV*

Dean and Bobby turn the corner to the Roadhouse. But when they get there, however, the entire building had burned to the ground. "What the hell?" Dean said, shocked, as he and Bobby get out of the car and begin walking among the debris. Every single part of the Roadhouse had been destroyed.

"Oh, my God." Bobby mutters, devastated.

"You see Ellen?" Dean asked him.

"No. No Ash, either." Bobby said. Dean suddenly bends down and sees Ash's watch in the pile of rubble. He pulls on it and sees it is still attached to Ash's very burnt corpse. "Oh, Ash, damn it!" Dean growls.

*(y/n)'s POV*

I was searching one of the abandoned houses and find a knife. I pick it up then turn back to Ava, who is massaging her head. "Hey, you all right?" I asked her. "Yeah, I’m just…I don’t know, a little dizzy." She said. "Are you sure it’s not some kind of—" I started to ask and she looks over at me. "What? Some kind of freaky vision thing? No, more like I’d kill for a sandwich. I haven’t eaten since…well, who knows?" She said and I give her a worried look.

"No, don’t worry. I’m fine. Except for every single thing that’s happening." She said to me. "You guys! I found something!" Andy shouts and Ava and I go and join Andy, Jake and Sam, Andy was holding up two bags.

"Salt!" He exclaims, happily. "That’s great, Andy. Now, we all can…" I started to say but then I noticed someone was missing. "Where’s Lily?" I asked and everyone looks around. "Lily?" Ava calls out.

"Lily!" Sam shouts then we hear the little girl giggling nearby. The five of them walk outside and see, at the top of a water tower, Lily hanging from a noose, dead. "Oh, my God! Okay, that’s officially—" Ava exclaims and she looks over at me and Sam. "Guys, she’s dead! She’s dead! You guys said we were chosen for a reason. That is not chosen! That’s killed! Okay, we have to get out of here." She said, frantically.

"Stop." Sam said.

"Yeah, I second that emotion." Andy said.

"Not sure that’s an option." Jake said.

"What?" Ava asked.

"Lily was trying to leave. The demon’s not gonna let us get away that easy. We’ve gotta gear up for the next attack." I tell the others. "Oh, gear up?" Ava asked. "Yeah." Sam and I said. "Okay, well, I’m not a soldier. I can’t do that!" Ava shouts.

"Well, if you wanna stay alive, you’re gonna have to. Let’s go." Sam said and Jake turns to us. "I’ll get her down." Jake saud and he walks away. "You know, I was just thinking about how much Dean would help right now. I’d give my arm for a working phone." Sam said and nod. "Yeah, me too." I said.

"You know, you may not need one. I’ve never tried it long-distance before, but do you have anything of Dean’s on you? Like, something he touched?" Andy asked us and Sam and I search out pockets.

"Uh…I’ve got a receipt. Would that work?" Sam asked him. "Yeah." Andy said then he looks at the signature on the receipt. "D. Hasselhoff?" He asked us. "Yeah, that’s Dean’s signature." Sam said but Andy still stares at him. "It’s hard to explain." Sam said and Andy nods.

"All right." He said.

*3rd Person POV*

"This is…" Bobby started to say but trails off. "What the hell did Ash know? We’ve got no way of knowing where Ellen is. Or if she’s even alive. We’ve got no clue what Ash was gonna tell us. Now, how the hell are we gonna find Sam and (y/n)?" Dean asked him. "We’ll find them." Bobby said when Dean clutches his head in pain.

"Dean?" Bobby asked as Dean groans and doubles over. He sees an image of the Cold Oak bell very quickly. "What was that?" Bobby asked as Dean comes to. "I don’t know. A headache?" Dean said. "You get headaches like that a lot?" Bobby asked. "No. Must be the stress." Dean chuckles. "I could have sworn I saw something." He mutters.

"What do you mean? Like a vision? Like what Sam and (y/n) get?" Bobby asked him. "What? No!" Dean shouts. "I’m just saying." Bobby exclaims. "Come on, I’m not some psychic." Dean said.

Suddenly, the vision comes back and he falls against the car in pain. He sees another image, this time of Sam and (y/n). "Dean? Dean! Are you with me?" Bobby asked, worried. "Yeah, I think so. I saw Sam and (y/n). I saw them, Bobby." Dean said. "It was a vision." Bobby said, firmly. "Yeah. I don’t know how, but yeah. Whew. That was about as fun as getting kicked in the jewels." Dean said.

"What else did you see?" Bobby asked. "Uh…there was a bell." Dean said. "What kind of bell?" asked Bobby. "Like a big bell with some kind of engraving on it, I don’t know." Dean replied, shrugging.

"Engraving?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah." Dean said.

"Was it a tree? Like, an oak tree?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, exactly." Dean said and Bobby has a look of realization. "I know where Sam and (y/n) are." He said and they load up in the car.

*(y/n) POV*

Ava and I wwre in one of the houses, lining the doors and windows with salt when she said. "My horoscope said I shouldn’t have gotten out of bed." Then she scoffs and turns to me. "How you doing? Holding up?" She asked me. "I’m okay. What about you?" I asked her.

"Not so okay. Why us, (y/n)? What did we do to deserve this?" She asked me. "Just lucky, I guess." I joked and she chuckles. "If it wasn’t for bad luck, we’d have no luck at all. I just can’t wait for this all to be over so I can just pretend it never happened. I just wanna curl up with Brady and watch bad TV." She said then she notices the look on my face.

"What is it?" She asked me and I look down, uncomfortable. "(Y/n)…do you know something that I don’t?" She asked me. "Look, Ava…I’m sorry. I wish I didn’t have to tell you this." I said to her. "Tell me what?" She asked me.

"When the demon broke into your house to take you…your fiancée didn’t make it. I’m sorry." I said and her eyes widen in shock then fear. "No, that’s…no!" She screams then I hug her while she sobs.

That night, all of us were sitting in one room, silent. Sam and I were struggling to stay awake, but I close my eyes every so often. Suddenly, in the corner of the room, I see the yellow-eyed demon standing behind Jake. "Jake! Behind you!" I shout but Jake doesn’t hear me.

"Howdy, (y/n)." The demon greets me then I look over at Sam to see him asleep. I go and snap my fingers in front of him but he doesn't respond.

"I’m dreaming." I stated at the demon smiles. "What do you say you and I take a little walk?" He asked me, smiling.

"You’re awfully quiet, (y/n). You’re not mad at me, are you?" The Demon asked me as we walk outside. "I’m gonna tear you to shreds, I swear to—" I growled and he chuckles. "When you wake up, girlie, you give it your best shot." He said. "Where's Dean?" I asked him. "Quit worrying about Dean. I’d worry more about yourself." The Demon said.

"Why? You gonna kill me?" I asked, sarcasm dripping from my voice. "I’m trying to help you. That’s why we’re talking. You’re the one I’m rooting for." The Demon said. "What the hell is supposed to mean?" I asked him.

"Welcome to the Miss America pageant. Why do you think you’re here? This is a competition. Only one of you crazy kids is gonna make it out of here alive." He said and I stop and give him a confused look.

"I thought we were supposed to be—"

"Soldiers in a coming war? That’s true. You are. But here’s the thing: I don’t need soldiers. I need soldier. I just need the one." The Demon said. "Why?" I asked. "Well, I couldn’t just come out and say that, could I, (y/n)? I had to let everyone think they had a fighting chance. But what I need...is a leader." aaid The Demon.

"To lead who?" I asked. "Oh, I’ve already got my army. Or, I will soon, anyway." He said and I glared at him. "You son of a bitch." I growled. "Honestly, I’m surprised you hadn’t guessed. I mean, why do you think so many children flamed out already? Max Miller and Andy’s brother, what’s-his-name? They weren’t strong enough. I’m looking for the best and brightest of your generation." The Demon said.

"My generation?" I said, confused. "Well, there’s other generations, but let’s just worry about yours. That’s why I’m here, (y/n). I wanna give you the inside track. You’re tough. You’re smart. You’re well-trained, thanks to your daddy. (Y/n) you’re my favorite." He said and I scoff. "Yeah, I'm sure you say that to all of the psychics." I said and he chuckles a bit.

"You ruined my life." I said. "The cost of doing business, I’m afraid. I needed you sharp, on the road, honing your skills. Your gifts." He said to me. "What about my mom? And my dad?" I asked him. "That was bad luck." He said.

"Bad luck? You put that cancer in my dad! You killed my mom!" I yelled. "Your mother walked in on us. Wrong place, wrong time. Your dad...he was just an obstacle in the way." He said. "What does that mean?" I asked him.

"It wasn’t about her or your dad. It was about you. It’s always been about you." He said. "What?" I asked and the demon smiles. "Well…okay. You caught me in a charitable mood. I’ll show you." He said and he snaps his fingers, and we were in a room, that looked like a nursery that was painted pink.

"Look familiar? It should." The Demon said and I look at the crib and see my six-month-old self crying in my crib, while the Yellow-Eyed Demon from the past stands over me. I step forward but the Demon stops me. "Relax, (y/n), this is just a hi-def instant replay. Enjoy the show." He said and the past Demon slices his own wrist with his nail and drips some of the blood onto my six-month mouth.

"What the hell are you doing to me?" I asked him, horrified. "Better than mother’s milk." The Demon said and I look at him, horrified. "Does this mean I have demon blood in me?" I asked and the demon chuckles. "Answer me!" I yelled at him but then my mother walks by the room but stops and comes in.

"(Father's name)?" She said and the past Demon turns to her. She jumps at this, her eyes widen in fear. "Who the hell are you? What are you doing to my daughter?!" She asked then the past Demon forces her against the wall. "Mom!" I screamed as I watch her slowly move up the wall, until she is pinned to the ceiling.

"No!" I screamed as she continues her slide upward. "No!" I yelled again. "I don’t think you wanna see the rest of this." The Demon said and he snaps his fingers again.

I jolt awake in the abandoned South Dakota house when I hear Jake shouting. "Sam, (y/n), wake up!" Jake yells and I look over to see Sam was asleep too. That is until Jake woke him up. "Ava’s missing." Jake informed us and we get up and run outside.

"I’ll take the barn and the hotel. You two take the houses." Jake said to us. "All right. Meet back here in ten minutes, okay?" Sam said. "Okay." Jake said and we split up and walk around and search until I heard a scream from a nearby house.

I run towards it, Sam following close behind me, and we come in and see her crying, pointing at Andy's body. I gasped as she turns to us. "Sam! (Y/n)! I just found him like this!" She cries.

"What happened?" Sam asked her. "I don’t know!" Ava exclaims. "How’d that thing get in? Where were you?" I asked her, suspiciously. "I just went to get some water from the well. I was only gone maybe, like, two minutes!" She shouts.

"You shouldn’t have gone outside. Ava, we have to stay in here—" Sam said but then I notice the salt on the window, it looked like someone wiped a chunk off of it which would break the salt line and let any demon in. "Sam?" I said and he comes over and sees it.

"Who did that?" I asked Ava as I turn to her. "I don’t know, maybe Andy—" she stammers. "Andy wouldn’t do that. Ava, that line wasn’t broken when Sam and I left." I said and she looks at us, nervously. "Ava." Sam and I said, firmly.

"What? You don’t think that I—" she asked, panicked.

"I’ll tell you what we think: five months. You’re the only one with all that time you can’t account for. And that headache you got? Right when the demon got Lily." Sam said and I nod in agreement.

"What are you trying to say?" Ava asked.

"What happened to you?" I asked her.

"Nothing!" She shouts Sam and I stare her down until a minute later, she drops the act, and laughs a little. "Had you guys going though, didn’t I?" She asked as she wipes her eyes. "Yeah. I’ve been here a long time. And not alone, either. People just keep showing up. Children, like us. Batches of three or four at a time." She said.

"You killed them? All of them?" Sam asked, shocked. "I’m the undefeated heavyweight champ." She replied and my jaw drops. "Oh, my God." Sam and I muttered. "Don’t think God has much to do with this, guys." Ava said.

"How could you?" Sam asked her. "I had no choice. It's me or them. After a while, it was easy. It was even kind of fun. I just stopped fighting it." She replied. "Fighting what?" I asked. "Who we are, (y/n). If you'd just quit your hand-wringing and open yourself up, you have no idea what you can do. The learning curve is so fast, it’s crazy, the switches that just flip in your brain." She laughs. "I can’t believe I started out just having dreams. Do you know what I can do now?" She asked.

"Control demons." I said she smiles. "Ah, you are quick on the draw." She said and she puts her hands to her head. "Yeah, I’m sorry, guys. But, it’s over." She said.

A cloud of black smoke comes to the window but just as it is about to enter, Jake comes from behind Ava and twists her neck, killing her instantly. The demonic smoke leaves the window and disappears.

*3rd Person POV*

Outside, near the edge of the woods, Bobby and Dean pull up in the Impala. "Well, it looks like the rest of the way’s on foot." Bobby said and they open the trunk and grab a couple of guns. "Let’s go." Dean said and they head into the abandoned town.

*(y/n)'s POV*

"I think we can make it out of here now." Sam said as we walk outside. "But the Acheri demon…" Jake said, confused. "No, no, no. Ava was summoning it, controlling it. It shouldn’t come back now that she’s dead. We gotta go." I said. "Not we, (y/n). Only one of us is getting out of here. I, I’m sorry." He said as Sam and I turn to him.

"What?" We said. "I had a vision. That Yellow-Eyed Demon or whatever it was, he talked to me. He told me how it was." Jake said. "No, Jake, listen. You can’t listen to him." Sam warns him. "S-Sam, he’s not letting us go. Only one. Now, if we don’t play along, he’ll kill us both. Now, I-I like you two. I do. But do the math here. What good’s it do for all of us to die? Now, I can get out of here. I get close to the demon, I can kill the bastard." Jake said.

"You come with us, we can kill him together." I said to Jake. "How do I know either of you won’t turn on me?" He asked. "We won’t." Sam and I said. "I don’t know that." Jake said. "Okay, look." Sam said and he and I take out our knives, show it to Jake, and place them on the ground.

"Just come with us, Jake. Don’t do this. Don’t play into what it wants." Sam said to him. After a pause, Jake places his weapon on the ground as well. "Okay." Sam and I sighed, relieved.

Suddenly, Jake punches Sam, making him fly across the field and crash onto the ground. "Sam!" I yelled and Jake goes after me but I duck then raise my hand out and the knife flies into my hand. Jake approaches me and I swing the knife at him, slicing at his arm. He yelps in pain then knocks the knife out of my hand and punches me, making me fly backwards.

I groan and cough as I turn to my front and Jake kicks down the fence and leans over Sam. Sam kicks out at Jake then the two exchange blows with Sam on the ground, and then he leverages himself up. I get up and run at Jake as he one hits Sam's right arm and shoulder with a bone-crunching sound, knocking him down again.

Jake approaches Sam but I jump on his back and wrap my arms around his neck. Jake grabs my arm with one hand and grabbed the back collar of my shirt with his other and flings me over him, slamming me on my back. The wind was knocked out of me and Jake starts to loom over me when Sam knocks Jake out with an iron bar. I rolled to my side as Sam approaches the unconscious Jake, consideringly, and lifts the bar as if to strike.

"Sam..." I muttered and he looks over at me then at Jake. He hesitates for a moment, then tosses the bar to the ground and comes over to help me up.

"(Y/n)! Sam!" We hear Dean's voice shout in the distance. Sam and I turn to the direction of his voice and I smiled and both of us stagger our way towards Dean.

*3rd Person POV*

Sam and (y/n) see Dean and Bobby approaching, with flashlights, towards them. They walk towards each other, in the rain. "Dean!" Sam and (y/n) said in relief and happiness.

Meanwhile, Jake suddenly wakes up then he grabs the knife that Sam had placed on the ground.

"Guys, look out!" Dean shouts as he picks up his pace. But too late, Jake stabs the knife right through (y/n)'s back. Dean takes off running for them. "Noooo!" Dean screams as Jake twists the knife, creating a massive wound, before Sam turns to him and tries to fight him. Jake stabs Sam in the side but ran away, quickly, as Bobby comes closer.

(Y/n), gasping, falls to her knees and Sam falls to his side. While Bobby chases after Jake, Dean slides to the ground in front of (y/n). He grabs at her clothing, trying to keep her conscious then he looks over at Sam. "Sam, are you...?" He asked and Sam nods as he holds his bleeding side.

Dean then turns to his attention to (y/n). "(Y/n)." He said, softly, and she falls forward onto Dean's shoulder. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, (y/n). (Y/n)! Hey! Hey, hey. Come here. Let me look at you." Dean said and he places his hand on the wound in (y/n)'s back, covering his entire palm in blood.

"Hey, look at me. It’s not even that bad. It’s not even that bad, all right?" Dean said as (y/n)'s head wobbles. "(Y/n)? (Y/n)!" He said as he holds her then she places her hand on his cheek, Sam watches this as he winces.

"Hey, listen to me. We’re gonna patch you up, okay? You’ll be good as new. Huh? I’m gonna take care of you. I’m gonna take you care of you. I’ve got you. That’s my job, right?" Dean said to her.

"Dean..." she whispers, softly, then her eyes started closing. "No, no, no, no...please (y/n). Please hold on. Please. Don't leave me. Don't leave me." Dean pleads as tears formed in his eyes and he touches her face. "(Y/n)? (Y/n)! (Y/n)!" Dean cries as her eyes shut and her entire body slumps forward.

"No. No, no, no, no, no, no. Oh, God. Oh, God." Dean said as Sam gasps and tears begin to pour down his face. "No." Sam said, softly, and he lowers his head. With tears streaming down his face, Dean rocks (y/n) in his arms as she dies.

"(Y/N)!" He screams out, in a loud tearful scream.

@itzabbyxx

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saiyanprincessswanie · 1 year

Text

SaiyanPrincessSwanie - Reading List Weeks 141 & 142

Welcome to Week 141 & 142

It’s been a busy two weeks. Over 50 fics for you all to enjoy.

As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal boosting them. Author is listed next to title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community. 💜💜

Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.

Click HERE for past reading lists.

My Masterlist click HERE

Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers & header by me

If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.

I love you 3000 💜 Missy

Made for Me - Part 5 - (Bucky x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie

Sundaze - (Andy x Reader) - @sunshinebuckybarnes

Secrets Chp 6 - (Steve x OC) - @nekoannie-chan

Choreography - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Rude attitude (4) - (Steve x Reader) - @holylulusworld

Aurora - Part 4 - (Andy x OFC, Lloyd) - @andydrysdalerogers

Dynamite Ball Skills - (Jake x Reader) - @writercole

Best Friends Forever - Chp 4 - (Bucky x Reader) - @talia-rumlow

Collared part 7 - (Dean x Reader) - @spnexploration

Highways & Heatstrokes - Part 2 - (Ari x Reader) - @oh-my-damn

The best birthday - (Steve x Reader x Brock) - @nekoannie-chan

Bad Moon Rising - (Ari x Reader, Lloyd) - @biteofcherry

Mafia Bucky Oneshot - @angrythingstarlight

Down Again - (Ari x Reader) - @navybrat817

His Inheritance - Part 13 - (Steve x Reader) - @jtargaryen18

Lightning in a Bottle - Part 2 - (Thor x Reader) - @wizardofrozz

Real Life Tasks With Ransom - Day 2 - @wiypt-writes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

What Dreams Are Made Of - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Riding On - Chp 32 - (Frank x OFC) - @wiypt-writes

Saved - Part 4 - (Steve x Reader) - @kellyn1604

Biker Ari - @angrythingstarlight

Wicked Little Games - (Steve x Reader) - @angrythingstarlight

Secrets chapter 7 - (Steve x OC, Brock x OC) - @nekoannie-chan

Bandaged with Love - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Secret Sierra - Chp 4 - @lloydsbitch

Trapped - (Tony x Reader) - @ironlady1993

Tactical - (Frank C x Reader) - @fluffyprettykitty

Peepshow - (Ari x Reader, Lloyd x Reader) - @labella420

Temples To Build - (Bucky x Reader) - @slyyywriting

Highways & Heatstrokes - Part 3 - (Ari x Reader) - @oh-my-damn

A Hairy Tail - (Steve x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Fever - (Tom H) - @animnerd

A New Widow? (Nat/Bucky) - @/animnerd

Jerk next door (4) - (Andy x Reader) @holylulusworld

Different escape plan - (Steve x Reader) - @/nekoannie-chan

Never-ending nightmare - (Ransom x Reader, Ari) - @late-to-the-party-81

Left for Revenge - (4) - (Andy x OC) - @hollybee8917

Left for Revenge - (5) - (Andy x OC) - @/hollybee8917

The Dalliance - (Loki x Reader) - @literatureatthebowofnails

Give Me One More - (Ari x Reader) - @/saiyanprincessswanie

Aurora - Part 5 - (Andy x OFC, Lloyd) - @andydrysdalerogers

Best Friends Forever - Chp 5 - (Bucky x Reader) - @talia-rumlow

Collared part 8 - @spnexploration

Highways & Heatstrokes - Part 4 - (Ari x Reader) - @oh-my-damn

Highways & Heatstrokes - Part 5 - (Ari x Reader) - @/oh-my-damn

His Inheritance - Part 14 - (Steve x Reader) - @jtargaryen18

Lightning in a Bottle - Part 3 - (Thor x Reader) - @wizardofrozz

Real Life Tasks With Ransom - Day 4 - @wiypt-writes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Prepping the Nursery - (Steve x Reader) - @navybrat817

Secret Sierra - Chp 5 - @lloydsbitch

Consciousness of Guilt - Chp 25 - (Andy x Reader) - @/wiypt-writes

Two Kings (4) - (Steve x Reader) - @/holylulusworld

The Quinjet Plan - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

#saiyanprincessswanie #recommended reading #missy reads #missy reblogs #bucky barnes x reader #andy barber x reader #steve rogers x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #ari levinson x reader #dean winchester x reader #thor x reader #frank castle x reader #frank adler x ofc #steve rogers x ofc #loki x reader #ransom drysdale x reader

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missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway · 7 months

Text

I will slowly be adding my previous stories over time. New stories will be up the same day as ao3.

What I currently have posted:

Time After Time: Modern!Eddie Munson x POC!Reader

Moonlight & Fang: Alpha!Jax Teller, Dean Winchester, Captain Syverson, Ari Levinson, Bucky Barnes x OC Omega!Selene/Red

You Were Finished Long Before We Had Even Seen The Start: Indie Rocker!Eddie Munson x POC!Indie Rocker!Reader “Sug” x Fuckboy!Steve Harrington (Drabble I) (Drabble II) (Drabble III)

LUNATIC: Avengers x POC!Reader "Nyx"

That First Night: POC!Reader x Nomad!Steve Rogers

Why Did Love Put A Gun In My Hand: Mafia!Avengers x POC Reader “Jinx”

It's hard for me to say, I'm jealous of the way, you're happy without me...: Hunterverse AU, Sy, Walter, Curtis (Lumberjack & the 2 bears) x POC Reader "Havoc/TG" Ex Dean x Reader

Let Me Spell It Out For You: Jax Teller x Rockstar!Reader "Firefly" Ex Bf!Rockstar!Steve Rogers x Reader

Why You Calling Me Tonight: Ex!August Walker x POC!Reader Walter Marshall x POC!Reader (Challenge Accepted/Part 2)

Sandalwood, Leather, Mead & Honey: Thor x POC Singer!Reader “Honey” x Bucky. Thor x POC Singer!Reader “Honey” x Bucky x Steve.

Bittersweet: POC!Reader “Lux” x Walter Marshall (How Do You Love Me/Part 2) (Go Ahead And Lock Me Up Drabble)

Affinity Series: Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader, Alpha!Steve x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader, Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader x Alpha!Steve

Don't Care If It Sounds Cold. It Is, What It Is: Bucky x POC!Reader, Ex!Steve Rogers x POC!Reader

Badda Boom Universe: Alpha!Jax Teller x Omega!POC!Reader "LuLu"

I got all these issues. Will you be my prescription?: Bucky Barnes x POC!Reader

Sinners Prayer: Mafia!Stucky x POC Escort!Reader “Sin”

Strings Attached: Mechanic!Biker!Sy x POC!Reader

Eff Being Friends: Steve Rogers x POC!Goddess!Avenger!Reader “Ci”, ? x POC!Goddess!Avenger!Reader “Ci”, Ex!Thor x POC!Goddess!Avenger!Reader "Ci”, Ex!Loki x POC!Goddess!Avenger!Reader "Ci”

Off To Never Never Land: Eddie Munson x POC!Reader

From The Jump: Dean Winchester x POC!Reader "Wildflower"

Please Believe Me: August x POC!Reader, Andy Barber x POC!Reader

#poc reader #masterlist #smut #angst

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ambersgems · 2 years

Note

Good! Perfect! Amazing! Please do it again! The grip your soulmate au has on my is all encompassing. Will there be more updates??

Thank you for your content, it rocks!!

Awh! Thanks so much 😊 I’m so glad you like it!! I’m thinking there will be one more part, but I’m working on what direction I want it to go in!

I have a couple of other ideas for more one shot ideas/couple parters as well so trying to decide!

My inbox is open!! So people with requests for Dean (or really any Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan Characters) please feel free to interact!

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kingofspadescos · 8 months

Text

Dean Winchester x Reader - Ballroom Blitz

Right- sp I've gotten myself hyperfixated on Supernatural and well- I'm only on season 5 but I had an idea- so here we go

Reader is Gended Neutral

Anything in () - is unimportant parts of the song, not plot dependent

Song - Ballroom Blitz : By - Sweet (YouTube video at the bottom)

So imagine-

Dean and Sam were on another case, chasing what they presumed to be demons. A string of murders had been traced back to a bar in fucktown nowhere Pennsylvania, and the brothers had immediately swung by the bar once they made the connection.

(Are you ready, Steve? Uh-huh.

Andy? Yeah.

Mick? Okay.

Alright, fellas, let's go!)

As soon as they entered the bar, they were hit in the face by loud music, the stench of alcohol, and the overall buzz as a hoard of people gathered on the dance floor. Dean looked around with a smirk. This was something he could get used to.

"Hey Sammy, why don't-"

"Oh, it's been getting so hard. Living with the things you do to me"

Dean was cut off by the band that was currently providing entertainment for the customers at the bar. His eyes swept across the makeshift stage of the joint, and up to the singer, who was already looking directly at him. He tilted his head in question, but the singer only smirked and averted their eyes to his brother.

"My dreams are getting so strangeI'd like to tell you everything I see" they sang, looking directly at Sam before grinning and looking to the back of the bar.

"OH!" They practically yelled, causing Dean to spin around to see what they were looking at, thinking something was wrong.

"I see a man in the back as a matter of fact. His eyes was as red as the sun."

He turned back around with a roll of his eyes, now realizing it was only part of the song. When he looked back at the stage you were looking at him again, with a shit eating grin.

"And the girl in the corner that no one ignores 'Cause she thinks she's the passionate one" You said, and even though it was only a lyric, Dean could tell by the glint in your eye and the way you nodded your head in his direction, you were aiming the line at him.

(Oh yeah! It was like lightning

Everybody was frightening

And the music was soothing

And they all started grooving

Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah)

He couldn't keep his eyes off you as you preformed. It's like God had made you the headlight and Dean the deer, unable to move a muscle, to entranced.

"And the man in the back said, "Everyone attack", And it turned into a ballroom blitz" You sang, making a pointed glance to the back of the bar again, but Dean didn't pay much mind to it, a stupid boyish grin still present from the moment he laid eyes on you.

You only rolled your eyes once they were trained back on him. "And the girl in the corner said, "Boy I want to warn you", It'll turn into a ballroom blitz" You continued, crossing one foot over the other and spinning around with a wide grin. He couldn't lie, you had a captivating stage presence.

(Ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz)

Once you finished the chorus you spun back around, locking eyes with Dean again, before sinking to the stage floor on one knee.

"Oh reaching out for something. Touching nothing's all I ever do" You sang, stretching out a hand to the middle of the crowd. "Oh I softly call you over" you said, moving you arm so your hand was reaching out towards Dean, before beckoning him over with one of your fingers. "Then you appear there's nothing left of you."

Dean almost without hesitation began walking closer to you, only being stopped by a hand on his shoulder. "Dean no. You promised you would help me investigate" Sam protested, but Dean shrugged his hand off. "I am helping" Dean insisted with a smirk before walking over to you, moving so there wasn't more than a few feet between the two of you.

"And the man in the back is ready to crack. As he raises his hands to the sky" You continued, your eyes stareing into the shorter brother, as if you were trying to tell him something. "And the girl in the corner is everyone's mourner. She could kill you with a wink of her eye." Then with a very pointed wink, you were standing up again, dancing across the stage, returning to give your audience your full attention.

(Oh yeah!

It was electric

So frantically hectic

And the band started leaving

'Cause they all stopped breathing

Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah)

As soon as the bridge was over you once again sunk to your knees, seeing as Dean hadn't move from his spot. "And the man in the back said, "Everyone attack" And it turned into a ballroom blitz" You sang again, and looked to the back of the bar once more, and this time Dean looked back catching a glimpse of a man who looked to have black eyes.

Realization flashed in his eyes as the song lyrics finally sunck in. However, he didn't have enough time to react as he felt fingers grasp his chin and turn his head back towards you.

"And the girl in the corner said, "Boy I want to warn you"It'll turn into a ballroom blitz. Ballroom blitz." You repeated, emphasizing your words, keeping your firm grasp on his chin to make sure he understood what you were saying before letting him go.

Than everything seemed to happen at once, a scream from the back of the room and then chaos. Dean turned hand immediately on his gun, making his way to the bar. Sam who was already several steps ahead of the other, was already fighting off two demons, stabbing one through the cheek with the demon-killing knife.

(Oh yeah!

It was like lightning

Everybody was frightening

And the music was soothing

And they all started grooving

Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah)

You continued to sing even as you jumped down from the stage and followed Dean, your own gun in hand. "And the man in the back said, "Everyone attack" And it turned into a ballroom blitz" You said, coming up behind Dean, turning so your back was to his, making it so you didn't have any blind spots.

"And the girl in the corner said, "Boy I want to warn you" It's turned into a ballroom blitz."

(Ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz)

A few minutes and injuries later, four bodies laid dead at your feet. "Who are you?" Sam questioned, still on edge, knife ready in hand.

"Sammy c'mon-" Dean protested, even though he couldn't help the curiosity that had been buidling up ever since he saw you.

"Dean don't" Sam said "who are you?"

You huffed, walking back to your stage to grab a half a day old bottle of water.

"Y/n, my name is y/n" you introduced yourself "I'm a hunter, like you, had a dream about the two of you coming to this shit town but couldn't do anything about it since the demons had us on lock down."

You took a much needed drink of water to cool your dry throat before explaining more. "Luckily most of them like to have fun, and what's more fun than a little show?" You grinned "had to get you two to notice them somehow, thought the song was fitting."

Dean had followed you back to the stage, his signature flirtacious smirk gracing his features "well I quite enjoyed it" he said with a wink, moving to stand infront of you.

"Oh I know you did, took you forever to realize that I was trying to warn you and not just flirt with you" you replied with your own smirk.

A chuckle erupted from his lips "so you were flirting with me?" He asked, ignoring every other part of your sentence, opting to get step closer to you.

You shrugged, taking your own step towards him, your hand curling into his collar to bring him closer, Dean immediately biting his lip in response.

"And if I was?" You asked, tilting your head.

"Then I think I owe you a thank you, a date, a bit more"

( It's, it's a ballroom blitz

It's, it's a ballroom blitzIt's,

it's a ballroom blitz

Yeah, it's a ballroom blitz)

youtube

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