#but Dean is an enthusiastic partner to it all

[casdeans-pie]

Big fan of the idea that no matter how Weird sex with Cas got Dean would be 100% on board

Floating eyes? High pitched ringing? Pretty sure that bite just drew blood?

It's sex with Cas.

Dean is totally and enthusiastically into it all.

[alotofpockets]

Game changer | Daphne van Domselaar x Arsenal!Reader

Where Daphne falls for you, but thinks you are already dating one of your friends

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.4k

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The transfer of Daphne van Domselaar had been a rumour for quite some time before your club finally signed her for real. You were quite excited for the Dutch goalkeeper to make the move over to Arsenal.

You had played against her in the Aston Villa matches this season, and while it was frustrating that you couldn't get a ball past her, your admiration for her grew with each shot that she blocked.

She was a strong and confident player, and had been interested in knowing what she would be like as a person. So, of course when it was announced to the team that she would be joining you, you were the first to offer her a tour.

“Hey Daphne, are you ready for the grand tour?” You ask her after she got introduced during the first team meeting to kick-off pre-season. The warm smile on your face instantly calmed Daphne's nerves. “Yeah, that would be great.”

You show her around and enthusiastically tell her all about the Arsenal training grounds. Daphne immediately felt a sense of security. You were very easy to talk to, and your energy was contagious.

“So, how are you liking London so far?” You ask as you make your way over to the pitch. 

“I only got here a couple of days to get settled, but so far I'm enjoying it. Definitely still a lot to figure out and explore.” Daphne replied.

“Well, good thing you have me then!” you wrap your arm around her shoulder in a side hug. “I'll be your tour guide, and show you all the best places.”

While you were training in London, you and Daphne hung out a lot. You kept your promise of being her tour guide, and wanted to make sure Daphne felt at home in the place you had called home for a few years now.

You visited some touristy spots, but you focused on your local favourites. Your favourite parks, shops, coffee shops. As many as you could fit in the short time you had before travelling to the US for your pre-season tour.

During the short time you had known Daphne, the two of you had grown quite close. You loved spending time with the Dutch woman. She was your seat buddy for both the bus ride over to the airport and on the plane to the US.

After the first training, which was just to loosen up their muscles after the long flight, Daphne spent some time with Steph and Beth. “You're both in a relationship, right?” When they both nodded, Daphne continued. “I don't mean to be rude, but I was wondering what it's like travelling so far and not having your partners with you. Is it hard?” 

Beth was the first to answer, “Well, Viv and I have gotten used to it a little with both playing for different national teams. So during international breaks we are often in different parts of the world already. We make it work, and always try to focus on the reunion.” 

“Yeah, and for me with Dean, it's just been so long, that by now it's pretty normal. I remember the first couple of times being pretty hard, but like Beth said, focusing on the reunion always gets us through.” 

“Ah yeah, it must be so nice to reconnect after some time away from each other. Are a lot of the girls on the team in a relationship?” Daphne questions, and Beth and Steph start listing a few of the people.

“Let's see, was that everyone?” Steph asks. “Hm, what about y/n? Isn't she dating that girl? What's her name again, Lily?” Beth questions. 

“Oh yeah, I never know with y/n, but I could totally see them being a thing.” Steph adds.

A part of Daphne was disappointed to hear that you might be in a relationship. Of course, the other part of her was happy for you. But, she had felt a connection with you that she had wanted to explore further, but she should probably set that aside until she was sure if you were or weren't in a relationship.

You thoroughly enjoyed your time in America, as you loved exploring new places. With the team you visited a bunch of tourist attractions, besides the training, which you were quite happy about.

When you got back home, you continued training for the upcoming season. Your free time consisted of hanging out with your friends, and your teammates. 

It wasn't until the first wsl match of the season that the two groups mixed again. Your friends in the stands while you were on the pitch playing with your teammates.

Once the match is over and you spend some time with the fans, you head over to your friends. You hug Jack, Mila, and Morgan first, and lastly you kiss Lily on her cheek and keep your arm around her as you’re talking with your friends. Daphne looks at the scene in front of her, and with the words from Steph and Beth echoing in her mind, she concludes that you are in a relationship. 

As you’re talking with your friends, your eyes keep wandering over to Daphne, as she’s interacting with the fans. Her eyes occasionally flicker over to you, you wave at her the first time that you notice. She smiles back, but the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Before you can think much of it, Lily nudges you. “So, how is it going with the new goalie?”

“Yeah, she’s great. I think she’s fitting in well with the team.” Morgan cuts in, “You know that’s not what Lily was asking.” Your brow furrows, “What do you mean?”

Your friends collectively roll their eyes. “Do we really need to spell it out for you?” Jack chuckles. “You’ve been hanging out with her all of the time, there has to be more going on between the two of you than just being teammates.”

“We’re just friends.” You say with a shrug of your shoulders. “Then why are you as red as a tomato right now?” Lily teases. “I- eh, cause I’m a gooner. It matches the club colour, you know?” 

You could see how disappointed your friends were with your joke, but it’s not like they weren’t used to them by now. “You should ask her out. She’s clearly into you as well.” Mila opts. “What? No, I can’t just do that.”

Before you can protest any further, Lily shouts “Daphne!” The girl looks over at her name being called from your direction and meets five pairs of eyes looking at her. Lily motioned her over, and when she finished signing a jersey, she came over. 

She looks between you and Lily with a questioning look. You had stepped away from her side, because you were not agreeing with her calling Daphne over and had a nervous look on your face.

Before your friends could embarrass you more, you took ahold of Daphne’s hand and pulled her back onto the field. “Is everything okay with Lily?” You look at her confused, “You know Lily?” Daphne shook her head, “Well, no, not really. Beth and Steph said the two of you were dating, so I assumed that was her.” 

You stop dead in your tracks, “They said what?” You shake your head, “Ew gross. Lily is my best friend from kindergarten, and also very straight.” Even the idea made you laugh. 

Daphne took the news as a game changer, maybe the connection and the vibes she had felt with you, did mean what she thought you did. 

“It’s funny, because Lily was actually calling you over to get me to ask you out.” Your eyes widened when you realised what you had just said, “Wait! Ehm I-” Daphne interrupts you before you can make a fool out of yourself. “I would love to go out with you.”

Your face lit up, “Really?” She nodded with a chuckle, “Yes, of course. I felt like we were already going on little dates, though we never actually called them that. And well then Beth and Steph put me on the wrong path.” 

“I’m gonna need to have a word with those two, can’t start spreading rumours about me.” You laughed together at the situation, before meeting back up with your friends to properly introduce Daphne to them.

-----

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[lessi-lover]

the fun part II l.williamson x reader

★ the fun part II l. williamson x reader

dating a professional footballer naturally had its undeniable advantages, and being with the one and only, - leah catherine williamson, certainly had its benefits. her god sculpted physique, along with her strikingly cocky personality, was a constant source of worship, motivating you to become a regular gym enthusiast yourself. this of course meant taking it upon yourself to try and successfully make the gym as enjoyable as you could for everyone. even going as far as creating a roster so all the girls could enjoy their respective music, even though majority loathed the exercise off the pitch, rather wanting to do what they did loved the most, - playing football.

with the 23/24 barclays super league fastly approaching, morale was at an all time high, with a large portion of the girls just returning from the world cup, - your own team having been the first national team to make it to a semi-final in australian history.

however, even though you and the english skipper had been together for quite some time now, you had never officially worked out in the gym together before. you dedicating your body to football as much as you could, given you were a fresh transfer, and leah spending majority of her time in the private gym or in the physiotherapy wing, recovering from her ACL injury.

but in this particular moment, you found yourself wishing you had moved to arsenal earlier.

your eyes were fixated on the blonde, captivated by the way her stomach glistened with a thin layer of sweat, emphasising the work she had spent on defining her stomach, during the international break. her black, training top clung tightly to her body, she had pulled the sleeves up, revealing the captain’s strong and large biceps, while her shorts showcased her muscular thighs with perfection.

you tried to concentrate on your gym partner, - steph, the australian defender and yourself were attached at the hip, having first met at an U17 camp, you had immediately clicked, as you had both gotten older you often were tagged "the work wives," which guaranteed you were sure to hear remarks from both leah and dean, weekly.

praising your resilience, steph couldn't figure out why your breathing had suddenly become so shallow and uneven. trying to gain your attention, she waved her hand in front of your face a couple times over, but your thoughts were consumed by the blonde goddess doing weights in front of you. 

leah, always looking for you in a crowded room, noticed your consistent gaze on her. Increasing the weight, she turned over her shoulder, wearing a smug and cocky grin on her face. she turned her body to face you, slowly lifting her sweaty shirt over her head and tossing it aside where a couple of the girls were stretching. if only the she knew what she was doing to you, - newsflash, the blonde knew exactly what she was doing, she always did.

you snapped out of your trance, attempting to regain your composure and focus on your exercises. however, her presence in the gym was overwhelming. every curl of the obnoxiously heavy weight she performed, every flex of her strong arms, seemed to hypnotise you, making it impossible to concentrate.  “are you alright y/n/n?” steph asked, resting a comforting hand on your back. you didn’t respond, too infatuated with the blonde. “i think you should take a break, yeah? i'll let you catch your breath.” steph helped you to stand, walking away shaking her head in confusion.  

the sight of her well-defined abs and the sweat trickling down them was mesmerising. "enjoying the view?" she yelled over at you, her voice laced with confidence, - she knew she could do the simplest actions that would get a cracking reaction out of you. a few of your teammates exercising nearby rolled their eyes at their vice captain.

“you alright there, baby?” the blonde finished off her exercise and started to make her way over to your gym mat. even the way she walked, amazed you. "i... i can't concentrate," you confessed, your voice barely audible over the loud gym music and nearby chatter of your teammates. leah’s taunting chuckle filled the air, a deep, alluring laugh that sent shivers down your spine. "maybe I can help you with that," she purred, setting down her phone and water. she cockily approached you, a smug grin plastered on her face, her piercing eyes fixed on yours, filled with desire and hunger. she took a seat on the mat, slotting her body behind your own.

she extended a soft hand towards you, a silent invitation for you to sit on her lap. "come here, love," she asked, but you knew better than to take this as a request, - it was an order. you hesitated for a moment before giving in to the undeniable pull she had over you. taking her hand, you let her guide you closer until your back rested against her front. her touch electrifies your body, igniting a fire within you, and you find yourself unwillingly relaxing into her strong arms.

leah’s hands settled on the side of your thighs, beginning to guide through the exercise. your breath caught in your throat as her fingers traced aimless patterns on the skin where your shorts had ridden up, sending shocks throughout your body. after about 15 reps, you let your head fall softly onto her shoulder. lifting your mouth to her neck, “le, we could get caught.” you whispered, trying to stay as invisible as you could in the crowded gym. she moved her hands up and down your arms. “i know baby, isn't that the fun part?” she responded, placing her chin on your head, exhaling deeply into your hair. the tight proximity between the two of you and intense exercise left you breathless, as you struggled to find words. your mind completely overtaken by the blonde. "you know," she murmured above your ear, her voice sending cold shivers down your spine, "i've always wanted to be your spotter." her words hung in the air, laden with unspoken promises and desire, leaving you utterly starstruck.

“you think we can finish this at home, darling?” leah whispered lowly in your ear, lightly kissing your neck.

[autisticandroids]

outsider pov

time is fake. these are some outsider pov fics for @spnficrecfest. there's a lot of conceptual overlap here with my casefic reclist, since i'm such an enthusiast for law enforcement chasing the boys. any crossovers do NOT require familiarity with the crossed over material. all of these are gen.

in order of wordcount:

identity theft solutions by ivyfic, 1k

a guy gets a letter in the mail from a bank he doesn't have an account with about a credit card he's never used.

the glomourous life of john dillinger by dwarfankylosaur, 1k

henriksen and his partner have a bet. extraordinarily charming.

not long enough by gayeld, 1k

salmondean tell victor about the supernatural. in particular, meg.

the outsider by denihil, 1k

henriksen has some sympathy for sam.

breathe on, sister (they pass me by remix), 1k

henriksen puzzles over sam and dean saving people from a fire. i would read the fic it's a remix of as well, if i were you.

days without feathers by pyrebi, 1k

jess's mom sees sam on tv.

the mysterious cold oak murders by anonymous, 2k

buzzfeed unsolved does an episode on the events of all hell breaks loose part 1.

perseverance by grumkinsnark, 2k

henriksen interviews a series of season one characters in search of the winchesters.

paper weight by vaznetti, 3k

kathleen hudak, from the benders, pokes into the winchester case at henriksen's behest.

the death defying mystery of the brothers winchester by dyed_red, 5k

buzzfeed unsolved again, this time on our boys.

the angel killer by vikki, 5k

cas is caught by the cops, circa season five.

the henricksen files by ante down, 9k

technically abandoned, but it's more a series of codas and character studies than a story, so it being abandoned doesn't really matter. so old it was written before henriksen's name spelling was canonized. this fic is a series of henriksen-centric codas, following him as he follows the winchesters over the course of season two. it has some of my favorite henriksen characterization, actually.

no way out iii by kelincihutan, 21k, violence warning

criminal minds crossover. real feds meet fake feds, and problems ensue.

minimal loss (what a joke) by eden22, 26k

criminal minds crossover. the feds go into a hunter compound. they meet some hunter children, including ten year old sam and fourteen year old dean. they try not to cause another waco.

this fic is one of the ones that i revisit when i want to be reminded that fanfiction can be good. it's THAT good.

the right to remain silent by boundlight, 27k, chose not to warn

svu crossover. tfw are caught by the cops in new york. i lied, this one is destiel.

nothing to see here by innie, 30k

a canon divergence starting from in my time of dying. kathleen hudak chases the winchesters. a number of other things also happen. john makes a different deal.

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The Widow Timestamp: I Love You

Summary: Sam tells Y/N that he loves her for the first time. This is basically PWP.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: Jared Padalecki Character for @j3bingo 

Warnings: flirting, kissing, smut, fingering, hand job, p in v.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: My first journey into Sam smut… please be kind 😅 Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

You can catch up with The Widow here!

My Masterlist     AO3     Ko-Fi

SAM’S POV

“Hey, Dean,” Sam says as he answers his phone.

“Sammy, you better not bail on me tonight,” Dean grumbles, getting straight to the point as always.

“I’ll be there,” he responds. Honestly, the week he’s had at work, meeting his dad and brother at a bar on a Friday night is the last thing he wants or needs right now. A night lounging in sweats, eating Chinese food, and watching a movie he didn’t need to use too much brain power for, is what he really wants to be doing.

“Good. Just checking. Can only get you away from the office if it’s for your girl these days, so…” Dean said.

“Yeah,” Sam chuckles. “Sorry about that. She, uh…” he trails off with a chuckle, lost in thoughts of his girlfriend.

“I know, Sammy,” Dean says, and Sam can hear the smile in his older brother’s voice. “She can’t come, right?” he checks. 

“No, it’s her friend’s birthday, so they’re having a girls night,” Sam says, sounding slightly less enthusiastic than he meant to. 

“What’s the matter? Y/N got you so pussy whipped already that you can’t stand the thought of being away from her for one night?” Dean laughs, and Sam chuckles along with him.

His brother isn’t completely wrong. He and Y/N have been dating for almost three months and are blissfully in the honeymoon period of their relationship, where they can’t get enough of each other or bear to be apart for too long.

“No, it’s… I’m just tired, is all. It’s been a long week at the office. And it’s the firm’s family day tomorrow, so I’ll see Y/N then, anyway.”

“That’s right. She’s meeting all the big guns for the first time! Are you nervous?” Dean asks, and Sam sighs loudly.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t be. I mean, who cares if they like her, right? Because I do, and that’s all that matters. It’s just… if I want to make partner one day, things like stable relationships and who your other half is seems to have a say in it,” Sam admits.

“They’re gonna love her, man. I think it’d be hard for anyone not to fall in love with her,” Dean reassures him. “You found a good one, Sammy. Hold onto her.”

“I know, I will.”

Despite his earlier reluctance to spend the night in a bar with his dad and brother, Sam is having a great time. With work and Y/N, it’d been a while since he’s spent this much time with them, making him feel a little guilty.

Sam’s worries about his dad and Dean teasing him about ‘his girl’ are quickly dampened when his dad asks if things are serious between them. Both men had smiled and clapped him on the back at his confirmation that it was and that he was confident she was it for him. The only slightly teasing remark so far has been from his dad.

“Better start saving for a ring, son,” John chuckles.

With both men grinning at him like idiots, Sam feels a hand slide across his shoulders. “I’m flattered, but I have a girlfriend,” he says without turning around.

“No, I’m flattered,” Y/N responds, and he smiles before turning to face his girlfriend. “And very reassured.”

“Hey, baby. What are you doing here? I thought girls’ night was across town?” Sam asks as he stands to kiss her.

“Well,” Y/N huffs with a roll of her eyes. “It was, and we were having a great time, but Charlie dragged us all the way over here because she found out the girl she’s crushing on works here. And, you know, can’t say no to the birthday girl!”

“Well, can’t say I’m not happy about that,” Sam chuckles, placing his arm around her shoulders. “You look beautiful, baby.”

“Thank you,” she smiles and glances down his body before she speaks again. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear plaid before. I like it. It’s a good look on you,” she stretches up on her tiptoes to kiss him again.

“Noted,” Sam chuckles, and Y/N giggles.

“Alright, I’ve had enough of this lovey-dovey bullcrap. Makes me wanna vomit,” Dean winks to show his jest and stands from the table. “Can I get you a drink, sweetheart?”

“No, thanks,” Y/N shakes her head. “I have one waiting for me at my table and probably three tequila shots by now. I just wanted to come over and say hi.”

“Do you, uh, wanna come to my place when you’re, you know?” Sam asks quietly, hoping it’s quiet enough that only she can hear him. His dad’s chuckle and Dean’s slap on the back, and a “Get it, Sammy!” make him want a hole to open in the ground and swallow him.

Y/N laughs, covering her face with her hands in embarrassment before he watches her take a deep breath and pull herself together.

“I’d love to, Sam. But the cardinal rule of girls night is that you can’t bail on girls night. Especially for a guy. You know that, right? It’s the whole ‘chicks before dicks’ thing. So, there is no way I’m getting to sneak away from that,” Y/N points to the table of women laughing loudly and downing shots, “before midnight.”

“I’ll wait up,” Sam grins charmingly with a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes, watching Y/N’s facial expressions intently as she takes in and interprets his meaning.

“Well, alright then. Guess I’ll see you later,” Y/N said, biting on her plump bottom lip.

“Yeah, you will. Have a good night, baby,” Sam leans down and presses another kiss to her lips.

“You too,” Y/N smirks, pulling Sam down by the lapels of his shirt for one last kiss. “It was good to see you again, John,” she smiles as she reluctantly parts from Sam.

“And you, sweetheart,” John smiles. “You’ll be over for dinner on Sunday, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Y/N returns his smile before turning her attention to the eldest Winchester son. “Dean, that table,” she gestures in the general direction of where her friends are, “is out of bounds.”

“What? But why? Come on, Y/N! There are some real hotties over—” Dean tries, but Y/N’s warning scowl and raised eyebrow make him back down.

“I mean it, Dean! I don’t want my friends badgering me for your number, or with questions about what they did wrong, or asking me to ask Sam to ask you why you didn’t call,” Y/N chuckles.

“Fine,” Dean huffs in resignation before walking over to the bar.

“Good. I’ll see you later, Sam.”

Y/N’S POV

12:45am

The cab pulls away from the curb, and you walk up the path to Sam’s house. Stopping at the door, you take a second to fluff your hair. You’ve never been like this before; never bothering too much about your appearance and certainly never for a guy. Still, you found yourself touching up your makeup and perfume before leaving the bar to come over here, making sure you look perfect for him.

You ring the doorbell and nervously shuffle from foot to foot, wondering if the butterflies you feel with Sam will ever go away. You hope not, as the flutter turns into a swarm when you hear the door unlocking.

“Hey, baby,” Sam smirks, eyes slowly taking in every inch of you. “Glad you came.”

“Well,” you grin as Sam steps to the side, inviting you into his home. “I know what kinda night I’m in for, and I would be a fool to miss out on this.” You trail your fingers up his chest, grab the neck of his t-shirt, and pull him down to meet your lips, kicking the door closed behind you.

Sam pushes his tongue into your mouth and shoves you against the door. He quickly turns the lock, shutting you in for the night. The kiss is hot and heavy, and you whimper as his fingers tug at the zip of your dress.

You shimmy the material down your body and let it pool at your feet, leaving you only in cobalt blue lace underwear. Sam growls, grabbing your thighs and pulling you up his body. You wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, as his lips find their place on your cleavage, licking and sucking your skin.

Sam’s hand trails up your back and into your hair, pulling it hard enough to force your head back and gain access to your neck. He sucks and nips gently, cautious not to leave a mark, knowing tomorrow is an important day for both of you.

“Sam,” you groan, and fuck, is it the neediest and most pathetic you’ve ever heard yourself. “Need you.”

“Yeah?” Sam rasps, his voice deepened with lust. “Right here, baby?”

“Yes,” you gasp, already breathless, and he’s barely touched you yet.

Sliding his hand over your thigh and pushing it between your bodies, Sam pulls your underwear to the side and, without warning, shoves two fingers inside you. He barely lets you adjust to the intrusion as he immediately begins to thrust his fingers in and out of your tight, wet channel, smirking as you moan his name. 

Curling his fingers inside you, he watches your head fall back and thump against the door. “Fuck,” you grunt, your hands dropping from his shoulders and desperately fumbling with his belt. You love it when Sam builds the pleasure and teases you, but you can’t, not tonight. Tonight you need him now.

“Hey, what’s the hurry, baby? We’ve got all night,” Sam chuckles, but you don’t stop undoing his pants, finally pulling his belt loose and moving quickly to the button on his jeans.

With his jeans finally undone, your hand delves into his boxers and finds their prize. Sam is already fully hard, and you grip his cock and pump your fist as best you can while pinned against his door.

Sam growls when your thumb swipes over his sensitive head, turning you on even more. The wet sound that gets louder and louder with every pump of his fingers inside you should embarrass you, but instead, you moan.

“Fuck, baby,” Sam groans lowly into your ear. “I need to be in you.”

“Yes! Please, Sam,” you whimper as his fingers suddenly leave you empty and wanting. He pulls your hands off his cock and teases your clit with its tip before he pushes inside you in one slow thrust.

“Shit,” you whine, still not used to his generous length stretching and filling you so completely. You’ve never had anyone reach so deeply within you, and you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

Sam holds himself fully sheathed inside you, this time allowing your fluttering walls time to stretch to accommodate him, and his lips find yours in a passionate kiss that’s all teeth and tongue.

The second you feel yourself relax around him, he pulls out to the tip and slams back in, punching the air from your lungs. He doesn’t let up, pounding into you ferociously, and your high builds quickly.

Sam’s large hands grip your thighs, and you groan loudly, trying to remember to choose a long dress or pants to wear tomorrow because you can already feel bruises forming where his fingertips are digging into your soft muscle.

It’s become one of your favourite things; the colourful little bruises that litter your skin thanks to his groping hands. He’s an animal in the bedroom, but when it’s over, he always places soft kisses on every mark he leaves in his carnal state.

“Sam, I’m close,” you whine as you slide your hands into his hair and tug on the long strands.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know. I can feel it,” Sam says through gritted teeth. Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you, and you growl in frustration, tugging his hair harder to emphasise your displeasure.

“What the—? Sam, come on! I was nearly there!” You whine, pouting at him when he chuckles, tightening his grip on you and walking towards the sofa.

“I know, and I wanna watch you,” Sam smirks, and you feel heat rising to your cheeks.

“Watch me?” you murmur breathlessly.

“I wanna watch you come, and I wanna do it while you ride me.” Sam’s lopsided smirk creates another pool of wetness in your core, and you seem to have lost the ability to speak. “Is that alright, baby?” You nod and gulp, your words still failing you.

“Alright,” Sam says as he unwraps your legs from his waist and puts you down on shaky legs. He pulls your underwear down enough that it falls to your feet before ridding himself of all his clothing.

“Then get riding.” He smacks your ass, sits on the couch, and waits for you to climb onto his lap. You stretch your arms behind your back, ready to unclasp your bra, but Sam clicking his tongue stops you.

“Uh uh, baby. Leave it on,” Sam grins, and you smirk as you finally climb onto his lap and take his cock in your hand, placing it at your entrance and sinking down slowly. When your skin meets his, your head falls back with a gasp.

Sam’s hands drag up your body, pausing to toy with your nipples behind the blue lace. He slides the straps down your shoulders, exposing your hardening buds to the cool air briefly before his lips cover one and his hand the other.

Raising your hips up and down his length, you find a rhythm and angle that lets you feel every ridge of him glide perfectly between your walls, hitting all the right spots and making you see stars.

“Sam, baby, I…” You grind your hips through your orgasm, and Sam grunts as your walls clench him.

“That’s it, good girl,” Sam murmurs, kissing your sweat-slicked chest. “Hold onto me, baby.” He takes your arms and wraps them around his shoulders; you know it’s his turn now, and he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.

Sam lifts you and lays you on the couch, moving your hands from his shoulders and placing them above your head, trapping them with just one of his own. His other hand grips your thigh and pushes it, forcing your legs to open wide for him.

The first thrust is heaven, hitting everywhere all at once, and you and Sam’s grunting confirms that your walls are still fluttering, clenching, and sucking him in.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good,” Sam groans, his hips moving impossibly faster and pushing in deeper and deeper.

Your eyes roll, and you scream Sam’s name as he sends you soaring over the edge again, taking him with you.

“Fuck, Y/N!” Sam gasps, grinding himself into you, and you feel his release coat your quivering walls. “Fuck, my girl’s got a good pussy. So fucking good, baby.” You’d giggle at his praise if you hadn’t lost the ability to breathe, let alone speak.

Sam drops his head to your chest, kissing over every inch as he grinds against your cervix. You moan with every twitch of him inside you, and when his kisses turn to bites and sucks, you add a high neckline to the list of requirements for tomorrow’s outfit.

He lets go of your hands, and they instantly go to him, wrapping around his back and holding him against you for a little longer.

“I love you,” Sam says, leaving your breasts alone to look at you.

“Yeah?” you smile widely. It’s the first time either of you has said it, and it feels good. It feels right. “You’re not just saying that in your post-orgasmic haze?” you chuckle.

“No. I have for a while now. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Sam.”

Tags: @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @octoberclidan @nelachu2423 @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567

[talesofadragon]

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞

Chapter I - Synopsis: As an Art Professor, Steve Rogers struggles more and more to capture the beauty he's always longed for. The demands of his role and the impassiveness of his students only intensify his struggle. But there's one silver lining in all his discordance: his favorite student, Y/N.

Pairing: Professor!Steve Rogers x Student!Reader/Mum!Reader

Warnings: Age Gap (14 years. Both are adults), teacher/student dynamic, abusive relationship, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, terrible partner, co-parenting. 

Genre: Angst | Fluff | Emotional Hurt/Comfort | Slow Burn | Age Gap | Teacher/Student

Word Count: 4K Words

All Masterlists | Paint Me Midnight Blue Masterlist

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐓 was tarnished. Marred by hedonism and distorted by a noxious dose of conformity. If contemporary meant disproportion, then this generation had done wonders in creating subpar avenues for artistic integrity and expression.

Stacks of paper towered over Steve’s desk, mocking his years in the artistic medium. He could count on one hand the number of students who had passed the latest assignment, and he was already experiencing a headache at the additional projects he had to organize so his students wouldn’t walk away with an F by the end of the term.

He wasn’t a harsh teacher; the crying girls exiting Bucky’s office and the boys almost pulling out their hair after his lectures proved Steve’s point. Yet, he was, more often than not, having to do more work than he should to ensure his students achieved the bare minimum.

It was Monday morning, ten minutes till eight. Sunlight delicately penetrated the empty classroom’s window, infusing the serenity of the atmosphere with an angelic glow. None of his ten students had shown up yet. Most of them swapped the first fifteen minutes of class for a few more minutes of sleep as if the Sandman would not visit each of them throughout the lecture either way.

No wonder only three of them had passed.

Steve moved around the lecture hall, placing the reports upside down on each student’s desk. He considered scattering the papers across the front of the room, forcing his students to claim front-row seats. He once implemented a seating chart, which they responded to less than enthusiastically. Today he decided against doing anything, knowing the Dean would never allow him to teach a morning class again.

Steve heard the door open five minutes later after he placed the last of the reports on the desk at the far right of the class.

“Professor Rogers,” his favorite student greeted, her tone delicate and undisturbing as if mindful of the placid environment that surrounded them.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Steve acknowledged, a kind smile lighting up his eyes. His feet carried him to where she stood next to his desk, examining the reports with a frown. “It’s not a pop quiz,” he tried to assure, sensing her rush of nervousness. He stood in front of her now, his tall stature making her look so short and tiny compared to him.

She chewed on her lower lip, gaze lowering to her sneakers. “Are those the reports that were due last session?”

“Yes." 

There was an air of trepidation, a tremor of hesitancy in her voice when she replied, “I didn’t realize you would grade them so quickly, Professor.”

Steve’s blue eyes narrowed on her. She had barely lifted her head when he caught the dark circles under her eyes. His throat bobbed, and his index finger twitched by his side, almost as if her tiredness could command him into some type of action.

It dawned on Steve then, the cause behind her nervousness. He glanced back at the front row, where she usually sat—the only student attentive enough to sit through an hour and fifteen minutes of his lectures without falling asleep.

“You didn’t turn in your report.”

She nodded, fidgeting with the strap of her bag. She searched through its contents, reluctantly pulling out what Steve assumed was her late assignment. She cradled it in her arms, almost scared of his reaction.

“I didn’t have the time to finish it before,” she admitted, bashfully handing him her papers. “I know that the faculty allows us to submit late assignments for a lower grade. But I guess, now that you’ve corrected the reports—”

Her words hovered in the air, unfinished. There was no denying the university policy. With the papers marked and the grades entered into the system, it would be a sacrilege to skim through her work.

But Steve was curious to see what she had produced. This was the first major assignment in two months, accounting for 25% of their grades.

He peeked at the cover page, studying the headline. “You chose Pablo Picasso as your subject,” Steve commented, the confusion in his tone evident.

She hummed, shifting from one leg to another. “Yes.”

Steve neglected to read beyond the artist’s name, raising the papers to her direct line of sight. “The assignment was to reflect on postmodernism art and analyze its role in societal reforms.”

“I know.”

“Miss Y/L/N,” Steve challenged, suddenly dubious about her attentiveness in class. “Pablo Picasso is—”

“An artistic luminary,” she interrupted. Dark pink swept across her cheeks. She persisted, undeterred by Steve’s perplexion. “Who has influenced artistic movements even if he were a modernist himself.”

“If you paid enough attention in class to know that he’s a modern artist, then why is your report about him?”

“I never said it was. Not exclusively, at least.”

Steve arched an eyebrow. He unfolded the papers in his hands, reading the headline aloud. “The Purgatory of Modernism Through Pablo Picasso’s Tinted Palette.” The side of her lips upturned, hinting at a dimple on her right cheek. She was proud of that title, her senses lighting up when the words left Steve’s mouth. “What are you exploring in your paper?”

“Postmodernism reflects an artistic era after World War II. More specifically, it spans two decades, between the seventies and the nineties.”

“And what is its relevance to Picasso? He wasn’t alive to see the implications of this era.”

“Except that he was. He died in 1973. Three years after the postmodernist movement made itself pervasive.”

Intrigue rose in Steve’s voice. “So why is he the center of your report?”

“I told you, Professor Rogers, the report doesn’t focus on him.” There wasn’t any bite to her words, even if he merited her frustrations for reiterating his previous fallacy. “In his last years, Pablo Picasso was said to produce more art than he had in his youth. The postmodernist movement deconstructed traditional narratives and forms established in the modernist era, defying societal perceptions and challenging modern art. A wealth of Picasso’s art. My paper explains the impact of this era on his later masterpieces and how his art served as a bridge between two opposing epochs he has lived in and influenced.”

From her first word to her last, Steve leaned against the desk, arms crossed over his chest. He listened attentively, more than he’d ever listened to anyone else in his life. There was a reason she was his favorite student. And not just in this class or university. In his decades of teaching, he’d never met anyone as passionate or committed about art.

He scratched at the corner of his mouth with his thumb, smoothing the conspicuous smirk that appeared. “Did you write all of that in your report?” he asked, his voice lowering an octave to hide his emotions.

“Yes, Professor,” she said. “And more.”

Steve’s next words didn’t leave his mouth. Instead, he watched her head swivel toward the door, where his students began to filter in. He acknowledged them with a nod, returning his attention to her after.

Her shoulders sagged, and her teeth sank into her lower lip. She reached for the report, hair framing her face, effectively hiding her dejection. When her gentle fingers brushed the papers, something in Steve snapped in place.

He pulled his hand away, straightening up his posture. He leveled her with his gaze, examining her widened eyes and parted lips.

“I apologize, Miss Y/L/N. You’re right. I’ll revisit your paper and reevaluate your grade,” Steve raised his voice, its tenderness reverberating across the entire room.

He pushed away from the desk, motioning for her to take her seat. A gentle smile graced his features, and he was pleased to find one that equally mirrored his drawn across her face. Two dimples, he noticed, she possessed. One on each cheek.

More students had piled in when he placed her papers in his file to correct. He wondered if he should assign them a passage to read or an artwork to critique while he consumed her words and journeyed through her thoughts.

In the end, he cleared his throat, ready to begin the lecture. But he couldn’t deny that she never evaded his focus throughout it all.

He didn’t see her until the following week. Her paper burned a hole in his folders, calling for attention. She had missed the last class, and he had more to say than an email could adequately express.

When she arrived, another student was sitting in the classroom. That didn’t deter Steve from wanting to approach her. However, her attention was fixed on the easels he had set up, her feet already carrying her to a stool.

She placed her bag on the floor and eagerly examined the empty palette before her. Small paint tubes sat there, four different colors of Steve’s choosing. The blue caught her eye—a dark sapphire she twirled in her hand, mesmerized. Steve had never given much thought to the color blue. It was omnipresent—in the skies, the seas, and the irises of his eyes. He had been so accustomed to it, seeing it every day, that he almost forgot how fascinating it was. That is until he saw it through her eyes.

The class started quickly after. The theme was conceptual art. In response to their earlier results, this activity would be graded—a nudge to their receding grades. But there was a catch. They only had four colors to work with.

Almost everyone asked for Steve’s guidance, raising their hands to inquire about the colors their mix yielded or the process of creating their paintings. All his students asked for his attention, yet she was the only one to whom he offered it without a prior request.

Even as he moved through the rows of easels and stools, his eyes would deviate to catch her pursed lips and placid expression as she painted to her heart’s desire. While her attention never wavered from her work, his followed her movements, tracing the patterns of her wrist and the swirls of her brush against her minimalistic palette.

The class soon came to a halt. He used the few remaining minutes to dismiss those who wished to turn in their work. Students packed up, stumbling over each other to head to their next class while Steve gracefully maneuvered to her side.

"I gave you four colors to choose from," Steve remarked as he set his sights on her painting. She didn’t flinch, unbothered by his presence over her shoulder. "Why haven’t you used them to create others?"

"I have all the colors I need right here," she replied, her brush waltzing across the canvas, leaving behind swirls of silver—like a trail of shooting stars across the midnight sky, which, coincidentally, happened to be the color of her canvas.

"What did you paint there, Miss Y/L/N?" Steve asked, watching her write her name on the edge of her canvas. A small “Y/N” with the first letter of her last name next to it.

"What do you think this is, Professor Rogers?" she deflected, placing her palette neatly aside but never tearing her eyes away from her work.

"It’s your art, Miss Y/L/N. The right answer lies with you."

"Is there truly ever a right answer when it comes to art?"

Steve chewed on the inside of his cheek, preventing himself from grinning. "No," he admitted. "And yet, an artist yearns for the rare chance their art whispers all its secrets to someone."

Y/N chuckled, finally taking him in. There were streaks of silver and yellow painted on her face, her fingertips covered in paint. She didn’t seem to mind as she casually reached out for a towel to clean herself. It was almost as if she was the masterpiece herself.

Stop, Steve berated himself mentally, his thought catching him off guard. Why the hell did you think that?

“It’s a memory blueprint,” Y/N’s voice pulled him out of his head. She gestured to the swirls of blue and silver, imperceptible yellow dots glistening like gilded droplets across the canvas.

“Interesting,” Steve hummed. He wondered if he suspected she’d get the highest grade. He had never seen his students reflect so vividly on an experience. “Why conceptualize this?”

Wistfulness illuminated her features, molding her pride into yearning and peace into tumult. She shrugged, refraining from examining her work any longer.

“Blue is my favorite color. I’d like to say there was a thought process behind this piece, but from the first stroke till the last, I don’t believe I was in control of my thoughts nor my emotions.”

Steve hummed, unable to tear himself away from the painting. If the paint had dried, he would’ve traced his fingers across the shapes Y/N had drawn. He’d always been inclined to art, a thirst he would never satiate. But certain works, Steve knew, were best admired from afar. Especially those sparse masterpieces, easily tinted by insensitive hands. Especially her.

“I corrected your report,” Steve swiftly changed the subject. He headed toward his desk, pulling out her report. Y/N followed diligently after him. “What you wrote about was not what I had expected. But it’s very typical of you to challenge expectations, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Y/N replied shyly, her hunched lashes constricting Steve’s view of her eyes.

He fished out her report, extending it her way. “I like the way you think, Miss Y/L/N. I don’t remember reading such a clever work by any of my students before. This merited an A. But, unfortunately, since this was turned in late—”

“You don’t need to continue, Professor,” Y/N interjected, taking the papers from his hand. Their fingers brushed in her haste. She pulled her hand away as soon as she realized, continuing her previous argument before Steve could process the gentleness of her touch. “I’m very thankful that you corrected my assignment. Other teachers would have failed me for this late of a submission.”

“Still, Miss Y/L/N. You’ve been excelling greatly in my class. You deserve higher than this grade, which is why I want to offer you the chance to assist me for some extra credit.”

“Assist you?” Her brows knitted together. “With what, Sir?”

“The department is hosting an exhibition next week,” Steve began, his tone inviting. “I need a couple of students to volunteer during the evening. I’d highly value your assistance.”

Y/N's expression became troubled. “I can’t, Professor. I won’t be able to make it in the evening,” she replied, her voice soft.

“You didn’t ask what day,” Steve remarked, his head tilted to the side.

Y/N looked down, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t on any day, Professor. I’d be glad to assist you in the morning, but I can’t in the evening.”

Steve studied her for a moment, sensing there was more behind her refusal, but he didn’t press further. He acquiesced, acknowledging her statement with a soft smile. “Understood, Miss Y/L/N. I appreciate your honesty.”

Y/N hugged her papers to her chest and offered a faint smile before turning to leave. She didn’t even glance down at the B+ she had received. The B+ Steve felt bad for giving her.

“I think she’s in trouble,” Steve voiced, his eyes finally leaving the sketch he had been working on in his small sketchbook.

Bucky’s forehead creased while he sipped his iced coffee. Whether he was confused by the remark or the fact that he actually liked a beverage Sam had suggested to him, Steve did not know. Maybe it was a bit of both.

“And we’re talking about?”

“Miss Y/L/N.”

“Ah, the star student,” Bucky realized, clicking his fingers as if he had just come up with the most ingenious idea for his next midterm exam. “She doesn’t have to be in trouble, you know. When she took my Introduction to Ancient World History, I learned that her classes are scheduled between eight in the morning and midday. She’s tied up after. Probably with work.”

“I think there’s more to it than that.”

“Steve,” Bucky elongated the “e,” almost whining.

Steve stood up from his spot on the ground, dusting grass off his cream-colored trousers. “Hear me out. She turned in her last assignment late. She had the chance to get an A if she volunteered for an event, and she refused.”

“An event which took place in the evening when she probably has work. Which, if you think about it, is a plausible reason for her late assignments.”

“If you say she finishes classes at midday, then she has enough time to get to work at night—”

“Maybe she has a shift before that,” Bucky interjected. He sipped his iced coffee and walked ahead, distancing himself from Steve. “And she uses the rest of the evening to study.”

Steve caught up to Bucky. “Look,” he said, placing his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “She skipped two lectures in the past week and a half, and just yesterday, she took a call in the middle of class.”

Bucky gasped, his palm laying flat on his chest where his heart lay beneath his fingertips. “Oh, what a dreadful turn of events. Are you sure you’re teaching art? Because I’m starting to think the early program has led you to sleepwalk your way into the drama department.”

Steve groaned, the sound of his irritation overriding Bucky’s scoff.

“She wanted to take the call. I... I admit I was on edge about her absence and her... inclination to dismiss my class in favor of that call—”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve been spending your breaks with Laufeyson. Only the delusional would start treating their lives like a Shakespearean melodrama.”

“What the hell does that even have to do with what I’m saying?”

“On edge about her absence. A sense of yearning for her attention,” Bucky mocked, a shudder overtaking him that had nothing to do with the coffee in his hands.

“Have you even been hearing anything beyond the thoughts in your head?”

“They’re certainly more entertaining than the thoughts in yours.”

The argument was getting tiring. A loud exhale escaped Steve before he rubbed his face. He knew that the subject of this conversation might not have made much sense, but there was something Steve was sensing that Bucky dismissed altogether.

“I told her that if she took the call, she should leave,” Steve explained, turning back to find Bucky’s attention already on him. “It was harsh, but I couldn’t afford to have her so distracted. She returned to her seat, and I thought she would stay. But she gathered her belongings and left the class.”

“There must’ve been an emergency, then. It happens,” Bucky conceded.

“I know. I suppose. I just…” Steve trailed off, uncertain of his next words.

Bucky noticed his sudden silence and spoke up. “You’re an altruistic blockhead, Rogers.” Steve chuckled at the words. “Don’t overthink it. I know you see a lot of potential in her, and she truly is a remarkable student. But maybe you’re reading too much into it.”

“You’re probably right,” Steve admitted, even though, deep down, he didn’t believe it.

“Besides, she’s not even an art student. Clearly, this is just a hobby for her.”

“Wait, what?” Steve spun around so fast he almost gave himself whiplash.

Bucky had just about finished his coffee, sighing as he looked down at it, realizing he couldn’t distract himself with it any longer. “Don’t you ask your students what they study on the first day of classes?”

Steve gave Bucky a bemused look. “Not in Contemporary Art Practice. It’s a class that only the creative students take. There are several prerequisites for it.”

“Clearly the lawyers have made their way into it if Miss Y/L/N is any indication.”

A sharp gasp escaped Steve before he had the chance to reel it in. He stared dumbfounded at Bucky as if the man had grown two heads. “She’s... she’s a law student?”

Bucky hummed as he casually discarded his empty coffee cup, circumventing children running freely in the park. “She’s a sophomore. In the Law Department with Hill.”

“She doesn’t strike me as a law student. She’s...”

“Gentle? Kind? A battered, tortured soul? Believe me, I was surprised when she told me about her field of study last semester.”

“Back up,” Steve commanded, mind reeling from the influx of the latest information. “She’s a sophomore? But her ID number dates four years back—don’t give me that look. I don’t remember her ID number, but I only have a handful of students in that class, and I know that none of them are supposed to be sophomores. This doesn’t add up.”

The latest revelations left Steve in a haze, his thoughts consuming his mind and leaving him unaware of his surroundings. He reminisced about his interactions with Y/N, his artistic senses flaring at the details inhabiting her being. Her eyes lacked the usual innocent luster etched on the contours of young adults’ irises, and she certainly did not possess the natural naivety and abstraction they were renowned to express.

Y/N was grounded. Mature for her age, yet burdened with both torment and gentleness that painted her with the most enchanting colors.

His mind swirled with images of her, so much so that he wasn’t paying attention as he walked forward. Steve heard a soft gasp, followed by one escaping his own lips. He halted, scanning ahead before slowly peering down to where a young girl stood, her milkshake cup empty and its contents dripping down her lilac shirt.

“I am so sorry,” Steve breathed, rushing to kneel down at the girl’s level. But before he could ask if she was alright, another voice cut in.

“Can’t you watch where you’re going?!”

Steve lifted his head, spotting a young man behind the girl. His demeanor was laced with anger, and Steve imagined he would feel just as upset if his daughter had been nearly harmed. If that drink had been anything hotter than a milkshake... Steve didn’t want to think about what might have happened.

He cleared his throat, preparing to apologize to the stranger, when the man harshly tugged the little girl’s hand, causing her to yelp.

“You’ve been walking for three years, and you still bump into people like you just learned to walk yesterday!”

“I...” the child whimpered, her eyes darting around the park until they settled on Steve. “I’m s-sorry.”

Steve’s breath hitched, his fingers twitching. Beside him, Bucky glanced over, his gaze hardening as he observed the scene. Steve’s heart wrenched, unsure if it was the girl’s innocent regret, the man’s sharp rebuke, or a haunting familiarity that stirred within the sweet child’s eyes. He had studied that sadness, etching it into his memory. It seemed indelible now.

“Sure, you are,” the pathetic excuse for a man grumbled. “It’s me who should feel sorry. For myself. Clearly, you get your carelessness from your mother.”

“Better my carelessness than your brashness, Paul.”

If Steve had doubted his instincts before, now he was certain they were right all along. He exchanged glances with Bucky, who shared the bemusement which crossed his face. Tentatively, Steve focused on the scene before him—a distressed young girl, a callous young man, and now, a woman—who seemed poised for conflict and upheaval, even though he had always perceived her as too gentle and delicate to harm anyone.

She squared her shoulders, extending a hand to get the younger girl’s attention. “Hands off Nyla, immediately.” Her lips curled into a defiant smirk, her voice steady yet tinged with underlying turmoil. “Or I will remove your entire arm from its place and make sure you cannot touch anyone, let alone yourself, ever again.”

The man loosened his grip, whether from fear or some other reason, Steve couldn’t tell. As soon as his hold relaxed, the young girl—Nyla—ran to the woman's side.

“Mama!” she cried, just as Bucky uttered a name Steve was too stunned to articulate.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

This has been sitting in my inbox for months! I originally wanted it to be a one-shot, but God knows brevity is not my forte. We're in it for the long haul, baby! (Like 5 parts. Fret not.)

Thank you @crazyunsexycool for this splendid idea!!

This work is also part of my writing celebration.

[whinlatter]

Hi! I love your writing think it’s phenomenal work. It’s really such a genuine and intimate depiction of Ginny. I also see you have an appreciation of Dean Thomas. I’d love to know why you think Ginny was attracted to him? What do you think their relationship was like and how did it help them for their next partners? I just think that pairing was really interesting and there’s not enough of them being friends.

❗️ Warning... big Dean & Ginny meta incoming ❗️

Firstly - thank you so so much for reading and enjoying my work (phenomenal!!! I’ll dine out on that all week - can't thank you enough).

Secondly - what great questions! This was such a fun thing to think through. Dean’s a quietly lovely character I have so much time for, despite being very underdeveloped in canon (cutting his arc to exclusively favour Neville’s? Side-eye forever). I'm definitely a paid up member of the Dean Thomas Fan Club.

Anyway….. the questions were so good I wrote this too-long meta on Ginny and Dean before going to bed because I apparently… cannot be stopped?

Why was Ginny attracted to Dean?

I think for this question it’s important to think about the timing of when Ginny and Dean became close and when they got together, and especially what Ginny was looking for during and after her relationship with King of Negging, Michael Corner. There are three weeks between the break-up with Michael and Gin getting together with Dean, so we can assume Ginny and Dean had already become close and maybe a little flirty when she was with Michael (Ginny Weasley likes to give herself a nice four-week breather between boyfriends, usually just in time to watch the early summer weather roll in. I for one respect the work rate and the consistency.)

Ginny is with Michael until late in her fourth year, until they break up after the Quidditch final in early June. Dean has his OWLs until late June (just realised Ginny dumps Michael right before his exams - this is how you get revenge on a Ravenclaw).

The events in the Department of Mysteries take place the day exams finish (cue iconic scene where Harry’s rushing up to the dormitory to grab his Cloak and save his godfather’s life and Seamus and Dean are trying to get him on the sesh, absolutely rate it, excellent from the lads). Ginny’s going out with Dean by the time she gets the train home, probably by the end of June.

Given the short turnaround time between relationships, I think it’s likely Ginny and Dean became close during the rest of the school year, where she was able to learn the following things about him (and implicitly compare him with Michael as Michael revealed himself to be, as the great prophet Ronald foresaw, ‘a bit of an idiot’):

Dean Thomas knows right from wrong (and really, really can’t stand Dolores Umbridge). In their first lesson with Umbridge, Dean is by far the person in the class who stands up to Umbridge the most after the trio (he actually comes out swinging a lot more than Ron does). He immediately subs in for Harry when Umbridge refuses to answer any more of Harry’s questions. He defends Lupin and Crouch-as-Moody when Umbridge criticises them (describing Crouch-as-Moody as a maniac but saying ‘we still learned loads’ is extremely funny - Dean's pedagogical expectations are low). Dean is an extremely enthusiastic DA member, he and Ginny often arrive at meetings or take part in dinnertime conversations about the DA together, and I think they likely became mates because they’re passionate about what the DA is trying to do. We know Gin likes a boy with a moral compass, a backbone, and a good sense of outrage in the face of injustice. (I cut this out of a much lengthier first draft of chapter one of Beasts, which had all the DA at the graduation ceremony, but this was their interaction in response to another character acting up: ‘[Ginny] feels an old rush of affection for Dean, a man who always had a good scowl in him when it mattered.’)

Dean’s a sweetheart, even if he’s a bit hopeless. Dean’s a character who is often trying to make people feel better about things and trying to give a bit of comfort – emphasis on trying, because he’s not always good at knowing exactly what to say. I think this is something Ginny would really value – she’s someone who, for all her fire, tries to comfort and support the people around her. I reckon she’s got a soft spot for a man with a heart in the right place and a chronic inability to find the right words to express it. ('“Don’t worry about it, Harry,” Dean muttered, hoisting his schoolbag onto his shoulder. “He’s just . . .” But apparently he was unable to say exactly what Seamus was, and after a slightly awkward pause followed him out of the room.' OotP, 221 - does this not sound like how Harry would try and comfort someone?) 👀

Dean is kind to the underdog. Dean is often seen hanging around with or partnering up with Neville, and in DH, we’ll also see Dean be very kind towards Luna. I think Ginny rates people who are kind to those who are socially awkward and excluded.

Relatedly... Dean loves Remus Lupin. I wrote about this a bit in this short reflection on Remus (and am writing about this at the moment so don’t want to get too spoilery if you’re reading Beasts…), but I have a feeling being Remus Lupin’s biggest fan would be a sure fire way to get a text back from Ginny Weasley.

Dean’s into sports. Like her soulmate, Ginny’s into fellow jocks (I think it's implied that Michael Corner was also on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team – three for three on Quidditch players, Ginevra, if you were on Love Island I’d say you have a type). I think she’d also be amused and endeared by Dean’s die-hard commitment to West Ham - she is Arthur Weasley’s daughter, after all, and she probably enjoys teasing him about how crap football sounds. (That bit in PS/SS where Dean’s yelling ‘send him off, ref!’ – 10/10 excellent Dean content). Also Dean does not seem threatened by Ginny’s Quidditch abilities, but instead just really wants to be on the team with her too, which is a nice change from Michael Corner, the Jack Berger of Hogwarts Quidditch. (Sorry Michael, I know you end up a gold star goodie by DH, but young Mike is a prick to our girl Gin).

Dean is a laugh. Chuckling at Ernie Macmillan in his Apparition classes, mucking about with mice in Transfiguration, getting the giggles because this Lockhart bloke has set a quiz asking students to name his ideal birthday gift: Dean is both fun and funny. That bit in GoF where Dean describes Warrington in Slytherin as a ‘big bloke who looks like a sloth’ – funny.  The bit later in GoF where Dean rinses Harry for rejecting that curly-haired Hufflepuff girl who wants to go to the ball with him – also funny. Ginny Weasley likes a comedian and she also likes an audience. I think that means a big tick in the Dean Thomas column.

Dean's a creative. This is verging on headcanon territory, but I really do love the idea of Ginny finding her way back to writing in the years after Riddle and the diary. I can see her being drawn to someone who also has this gentle, expressive, artistic side to them.

Dean’s not averse to dealing in contraband Firewhiskey. If you’re a fourteen year old popular girl with a rulebreaking streak, the boy who can source you some Firewhiskey for an end of exams party from a cool kid like Harold Dingle is hot property.

Dean… er, really likes Harry. Not Gin's finest criteria for a boyfriend, but I think In GoF, the man draws Harry flying around the Horntail on his Firebolt and draws Cedric, his rival, with his head on fire. It’s not a hugely good look for Ginny, but I reckon Dean really liking Harry probably, in a strange, back-to-front kind of way, is another vote in his favour (Gin, you're messy, and I love you for it).

What was their relationship like?

I loved thinking about this question! It’s easier to write about why Ginny and Dean broke up than it is to write why they stayed together so long, and what good stuff they took from the relationship. Dean's easily bashed in Hinny fic in all sorts of different ways, and I don't think it really tallies with the really positive impression we get of him in canon. Ginny and Dean spend a lot of time together over the year - eating most of their meals together, training together, spending all of their Hogsmeade time with each other. I know it’s a teenage relationship, but this is still so much time to spend with one person. It also actually takes them quite a while to breakup, even if they’re ‘rocky’ for much longer. There's something to their relationship that must, on some level, have worked quite well. After all, it would have been a lot easier for Ginny to have dumped Dean if he was a crap boyfriend. It’s much harder to dump someone who is a good partner, but not the right partner for you.  

I think that's the problem for Ginny: Dean was kind of perfect for her in lots of ways - but for the person she would have been if Riddle hadn't happened to her, and if the war hadn't happened. Their relationship was clearly based on a lot of mutual attraction and chemistry (that kiss Ron and Harry saw was intense, lads - there's a reason Harry was threatened by it, after all). I think Dean was proud as hell of Ginny, especially on the Quidditch pitch (he's so excited to tell her he's going to be on the team with her!). I think he would think she's super cool, and I like fics and headcanons about Dean that show him trying to internalise his feelings about his own dad into doing right by his girlfriend, even if that means overshooting and being overly chivalrous and over-protective with Gin. I think one of the reasons Ginny stayed in the relationship so long is because they genuinely got on, had a laugh with each other, and fancied each other, in a way that she would feel conflicted about when she still feels drawn to Harry.

Really I think it's Dean being so great that is the problem for Ginny. If she's with this really great guy and she's still feeling restless and like something's missing, she knows that means she's still not over Harry, and that means she's in trouble. I think it's why Ginny sabotages the relationship, in very understandable ways, and in the end she finds herself getting the ick over little things, and picks a fight to end it rather than come clean about being in love with someone else. (No judgement: again, messy girl representation is important).

Ultimately, I think Harry is perfect for the Ginny that actually exists, and Dean would be a good match for a hypothetical Ginny where there was no Harry, who doesn't have a family in the resistance, who doesn't have all this trauma from what happened with the diary, and who isn't shaped and forged by a childhood at war. Until DH, Dean doesn't seem to know anything about the Weasleys' involvement in the Order. We have no evidence anyone other than Harry, the Weasleys, Dumbledore and Hermione ever knew Ginny was possessed by Riddle, and I don't know that Ginny would volunteer the information to Dean. (The only reason she brings it up to Harry in OotP and again in HBP isn't because she wants emotional support for it - she only brings it up to try and help him. This is not a subject she talks openly about even with the person who knows most about what went down). This lack of knowledge about crucial parts of Ginny's life would mean huge gaps in understanding between them - not gaps that are Dean's fault, but that Ginny doesn't try to get him to bridge. Dean can't meet Ginny where she's at emotionally at the point in the series where they get together, in many ways because he's much closer to a normal teenager than she has been able to be up to that point. At the end of the day, Ginny's always going to want to be with the strange guy racing to the Department of Mysteries to rescue a loved one and fight Death Eaters on a Friday night than a nice normal guy who is planning on drinking his own weight in Firewhiskey to celebrate him finishing his Wizarding GCSEs.

How did it help them for their next partners?

I think Ginny would always speak highly of Dean, appreciate that he made her feel loved and someone a boyfriend should be proud of, and I think she would feel some guilt about what went down. I think, eventually, Dean would acknowledge that he didn’t fully understand Ginny and what she was going through, and that he couldn't have been able to meet her needs in the same way Harry could. (I do think this would take a while, though - on the way out, Dean would be understandably very bitter, even if bitterness would be quickly surpassed by the much more serious escalation in circumstances in the war for an apparent Muggleborn. Thinking about it, Dean Thomas had a terrible 1996. Man got dumped and then within three months was homeless and on the run from a murderous fascist regime trying to do him in. Like, I know this is very much not funny but… if a man I had shared a bedroom with for six years and called a friend publicly scooped my ex from me from under my nose, dumped her a few weeks later for mysterious reasons, and then I had to look at his face everywhere I looked on wanted posters, I would be a lot more mad at Harry Potter than Dean Thomas ends up being).

Ultimately, though, I think both would look back on the relationship as a sort of sweet teenage thing, with a lot of warmth and humour to it, probably some sweet confidence-boosting intimacy early on, and a bit of a lesson that you can't make someone be the right person for you. I like to think Ginny and Dean end up mates, in the end, and that she's always rooting for him to find someone great.

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐇𝐔𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐓𝐋 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟓

Summary: When Y/N needs help on a hunt, she doesn't expect Bobby to send Dean Winchester to her. Now the two must work together to solve the case and Dean has to deal with Y/N's sarcastic and biting personality, that maybe he likes a little too much.

Pairing: Dean × F!Reader

Warnings: blood, spn level violence

Word count: 2625

Series

They got into the Impala with the intention of thinking up a plan for the hunt and following it as meticulously as possible: they had to speed things up.

“We should arrive early in the morning. Unless we're stopping to—” but when she saw Dean shaking his head, she dismissed that option. “Okay, no extra stops. Not even for breakfast?” She tried again, she couldn't stay awake and active without her black coffee every time she got out of bed.

"How can you live this life?" Asked the man sitting in the backseat of the car with a shattered face.

Good question.

"Everyone makes their own choices, right?" Y/N said, partly because she didn't know how to answer in any other way and partly to silence him once and for all with an allusion to his private life. Which worked perfectly as hoped.

"So" The girl started again speaking to Dean "We get to Toledo, prepare the weapons, wait for the sun to go down, leave the "fish food" near the lake, we wait for the creature to show up, we blind it with a light that we place exactly on Michael and we slow it down and then we slice it.”

It sounded very simple from how she described it but they both knew it wasn't going to be easy at all, especially to Michael, the one who played the more dangerous role.

Dean nodded, it was their last chance to kill the monster.

"Are you ready?" He asked with a smirk at Michael "Do you need to take a chamomile tea before starting?"

Y/N laughed glancing at the man in the back seat who pretended not to hear the question and turned to the window as if the scenery suddenly became incredibly interesting.

They arrived in Toledo twelve hours later, in the late afternoon. Y/N got the chance to drink hrr daily dose of coffee, while Dean to gobble down a double bacon burger.

"If's vefy goof" he commented with his mouth full, after inserting the last piece in his mouth.

Dean, Y/N and Michael were still aboard the Impala. The two hunters were rather calm in spite of everything, while their bait seemed more and more out of his mind.

“No, no, no. I... I-I can't do that. I just can't!"

"Hey! Calf down!' muttered Dean as he chewed. "Eferything's goffa be just fine."

«HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT, MH?!»

"Because we've faced situations like this before, and we know how to handle it," Y/N replied.

"Of course, you are not the ones who risk being eaten by that fucking thing!" Michael defended his theory, looking around as if feeling a sudden sense of claustrophobia.

“We can't do this without you, Michael. You're the only partner left, and everyone who works on this project—or who will work on it—is in danger,” he observed, tossing the burger wrap across the backseat as if Michael wasn't even there. “Even if you get out of this situation, someone else will work on that project and history will repeat itself.”

Dean was righ and the two hunters would have to deal with that later, anyway.

“Okay. Okay, I'll do it." Michael said even though he seemed about to cry.

"This is the right spirit!" exclaimed Dean enthusiastically, giving Y/N a small smile, which she returned with some satisfaction.

They waited for the sky to darken before reaching the lake: they needed the penumbra for the creature to come out into the open. Dean repeated several times to Michael that they would be there, close to him, ready to help him. Y/N just patted him on the shoulder.

When he got off the Impala, Dean and Y/N looked at each other, hoping the plan would proceed as planned. Then they took their weapons: guns with silver bullets for both, for Dean an ax and for Y/N a sharp blade.

"And with this we'll blind that son of a bitch," said Dean, taking the flashlight from the trunk before closing it and walking towards the trees in the grove nearby.

The location they chose wasn't the best but it was the most adequate: they had to hide in some way.

Not very far from the lake, camouflaged with the environment thanks to that slight darkness, Y/N and Dean were waiting with their eyes half closed in two slits to be able to see through the trees of that place.

"Do you think that flashlight will be enough to stop it?" She asked dubiously, looking down at the object in Dean's hands.

“It lives in the depths, right? There is hardly any light there, so I guess so.”

"You guess so?"

“It will work.” And this was strangely enough to give her the confidence she was looking for.

"Okay, so as soon as we see something moving in the water we go into action," she said, distracting herself only for a moment to be able get her binoculars from her jacket pocket. It was useful for sightings.

«And we have to make sure that it doesn't go back into the water, it has an advantage there. If it's that fast on land, we don't have any chance in an underwater fight, it would take us under and drown us in less than two seconds."

"Please don't be so optimistic!" She said sarcastically as she raised the binoculars to her eyes, scanning the surface of the lake. The more she zoomed in, the more she blessed the inventor of that instrument. The clarity of the images was reassuring. “So what do we do? Do we wait for it to move away from the water? We risk losing Michael too. You said it yourself that on dry land it's fast-"

"I'm working on it." At those words she was speachless for a moment. She lowered the binoculars and peered at him, motionless. What the hell did "working on it" mean? Michael was there waiting to be attacked and he hadn't even had the bright idea of ​​planning anything specific?

“I'm so sorry Flash, but we have a really anxious man at the scene of the attack and little time left."

At that nickname they both came up with the same idea and their eyes widened synchronously. They looked at each other with the typical "do you think what I think?" look and when they both turned to Michael, they knew they had the same idea in mind.

They mimed the gesture of the phone, as if to invite him to use it in an emergency. At least now they were sure that, if only for some reason the monster would escape them, Michael had the flash of his phone.

Michael pulled out his phone and sighed deeply, his eyes closed. For a moment Dean thought he was going to have another anxiety attack, but luckily he seemed to calm down - as far as the situation allowed - soon after.

"Okay," Dean muttered under his breath, never taking his eyes off Michael. "Now we have to w-"

A rustle behind them. Dean and Y/N whirled around, in a snap. It's just the wind, he thought. But when there was another movement in the bushes, as they turned around, he changed his mind.

"I'll go check," said Y/N, daring to take a few steps forward. Dean grabbed her arm almost immediately, not squeezing as hard as he had that night when he had a nightmare.

“You're not going anywhere,” He indicated Michael with a significant nod of his head. "It's a trap. The thing knows we're here and it's trying to get us away from its dinner.”

They both looked around furtively. Michael stood motionless, hands clenched into fists, in front of the lake.

"Keep an eye on him."

"No, wait!", Y/N grabbed Dean's arm, just like he had done with her seconds before. "You can't go, you said it yourself, it's a trap."

"If we don't play its game, it will never come out," Dean said. “One of us has to go check and it won't be you.”

Y/N remained silent, she seemed almost surprised by his words, she stared at him for a moment then let go of his arm nodding slowly with a serious expression painted on her face.

Dean cast one last look at the girl and then advanced towards the darkness, disappearing between the trees. The handle of the gun tightly in one hand and the flashlight inside the jacket. It all seemed apparently peaceful, but he knew perfectly well that the Ahuizotl was there, hidden somewhere.

Dean cleared his throat, drew an arrogant smile on his lips and he began to whistle as to get the attention of a dog.

"Hey, I'm here!" he said aloud, looking from bush to bush. "C'mon! Come out, you son of a bitch!"

A movement to his right. Dean stiffened and swallowed a lot of saliva.

"I know you're there," he continued quietly, spinning carefully, trying to locate the creature in the dark.

He caught two small white lights just off the trunk of an oak tree. Dean frowned and froze, jaw set. The Ahuizotl's eyes were shining in the night. The creature growled and walked slowly forward. Dean backed away and as soon as he realized the thing was about to attack him, he turned on his flashlight and the thing backed away abruptly.

"Ah! You're not having fun anymore, are you?!"

Within seconds the Ahuzotl was gone again.

She wasn't really glad about Dean's decision when she saw him disappear into the woods taking her place.

"Dean?" She whispered in a low voice after some minutes spent in silence alternating her gaze from the thick vegetation to Michael still standing in the place they recommended to stay.

She knew she wasn't supposed to leave but the feeling that Dean might be attacked by that creature while she stood there made her stomach feel weird. She stared at Michael with hope.

The man turned back towards the woods but, when he saw only Y/N watching over him, he began again to breathe fast and to move his pupils from right to left

Honestly, he had all the right to be terrified: he only saw an arrogant girl who had revealed to him how easy she was to kill ordinary people. How could he have remained calm?

"I can't do it," the man said, words that Y/N was able to catch even from that distance through lip-reading.

"Don't panic right now, c'mon!" She couldn't even reach Michael to give him that little courage that would once again convince him to fight for the right cause.

Then that she was not good at that was another matter.

When she saw the man move away from the shore and then start running towards the opposite side, without a precise destination, she was forced to definitively unmask their cover and reach him, inevitably running after him.

“I'm running after a man who doesn't even like girls. I didn't think I'd ever say something like that" She thought aloud as she ran after him. "Michael! Michael come back!" Y/N's voice thundered louder than it should have. "I swear I won't throw you in the lake, but stop!"

And he stopped but not to do Y/N a favor, rather to catch his breath. She would have gladly killed him herself.

"I can't do it, I'm not like you!" The man vented himself, gathering his strength word after word.

"I know." She said looking back out of the corner of her eye but not letting Michael slip under her radar.

"We're all going to die, aren't we?"

"Certainly your improvisation did not play in our favor, since we are in the middle of nowhere now" she asserted sincerely deciding to use her machete as a defense weapon in case of attack.

Y/N heard noises of dry leaves crumbling and twigs breaking.

"And that's not a good sign, stay behind me."

Silence. Surrounding him there was only an eerie silence, broken from time to time by the rustle of leaves in contact with the night breeze. Dean looked around furtively, expecting to see that thing suddenly emerge, ready to feed on the most disgusting parts of a human body. But nothing happened. He frowned, suspicious.

The Ahuizotl probably went to finish what he had started, killing Michael and possibly Y/N too if he tried to stop it. Yet Dean felt something, a presence.

A movement. Dean turned away, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. But he saw nothing.

"I don't like that," he muttered to himself.

Then he heard growling, right there, behind him. He swallowed and froze for a few seconds before turning carefully. The Ahuizotl watched him, slime running down the sides of his sharp teeth. It wasn't the same one he'd been dealing with a few minutes earlier, it was smaller, but probably as bloodthirsty as its mother.

He sighed and gripped the ax handle even tighter. When the creature lunged at him, Dean decapitated it in one snap. The head rolled off like a bowling ball and the body fell on the ground. Its thick dark blood splattered everywhere. The tail kept moving and the hand at the end of it tried to reach Dean in vain. He grimaced, disgusted by the scene. Then with another sharp flick, just as Sam had told him to, he separated the tail from the body. He doused the creature with some gasoline taken earlier from the Impala's trunk and set the creature on fire without thinking about it twice.

A shot.

Dean looked up, beyond the trees.

Y/N... 

He abandoned the fire and ran away, his heart racing at an almost alarming rate. He just hoped Y/N was okay and that Michael hadn't screwed up everything.

He arrived just in time to see the Ahuizotl stand up as if the bullet hadn't even grazed him.

"Hey!" he yelled for attention, but the monster didn't seem too interested, as he had a scared Michael right in front of him.

Y/N was lying on the ground nearby.

Dean wasn't one to pray, but in that moment he found himself mentally begging any god that she wasn't dead.

He picked up a stone from the ground and threw it at the creature, hitting it right on the head.

"I just killed your little, lovely son!" he added in a louder voice, so that the monster could hear those words well. When he turned in Dean's direction, he knew it had worked.

"I just cut off his head while his little hand went bye-bye," he teased him with a smirk.

The Ahuizotl leapt upon the hunter in no time, thirsting for vengeance. It had been so fast that Dean didn't even notice, the ax slipped from his hand.

He found himself pressed against the ground, the creature's paw pressed to his chest, its claws starting to tear through his shirt and a long trail of drool running down on him.

He hadn't noticed how sharp the monster's teeth were before. The creature's heavy breath, so reminiscent of the iron smell of blood, burned his skin. Dean narrowed his eyes and fumbled for his axe. He tried to retrieve the gun from his jeans or the flashlight from inside his jacket, but in the position he was in and with the weight of the Ahuizotl resting on him, it was practically impossible.

Suddenly the creature groaned and moved away quickly. A hand with long claws lay next to Dean. His tail had been docked. Soon its large head rolled on the ground too, its blood splattered on Dean and created a puddle.

"You've always had good timing," the hunter said when he saw Y/N holding a long, sharp, bloodstained blade.

Tags: @eevvvaa @spn730015 @supernatural111222 @youcancallmelily @clairenovakanddeanwinchester @dads-on-a-hunting-trip @3amstillawake @supernaturalmess @marvelandsupernatural @agirlwatchingalotoftvshows @candy-coated-misery0731 @impalaslytherin @rudy-the-winged-wolf @dean-winchester-6767 @samanddeansannoyingsis @roseblue373 @waynes-multiverse @random-spn-fan @xoxokiaraaxoxo

Series: @stitchintimefan @foxxymunson @sagexcandles @deans-spinster-witch @raisinggray

[thefirst3chapters]

What do you think about how some fans say it would be weird if rory and jess were together because luke and lorelai are now married? Wondering if this could’ve been the actual reason why they didn’t get to end up together as part of gg canon…

This ask arrived at an opportune time because I already had a draft post about this very topic! Lots of rambling ahead:

I really don't think we as the audience are meant to see Luke and Lorelai's marriage as a decisive obstacle for Rory and Jess possibly being together. The main defenses of Literati that I've seen others bring up regarding this concern are that Rory and Jess aren't genetically related and didn't grow up as relatives, and they dated before Luke and Lorelai did. Something else that probably makes being "step-cousins" essentially a non-issue is that there were numerous opportunities for the characters to see this as a problem, but they never did.

Throughout S2/3, Luke supports Rory and Jess's relationship (even enthusiastically so!) while he is pining for Lorelai.

At the end of S4, when Luke has just had the epiphany that he's ready to let Lorelai know how he feels, he eagerly listens to Jess's disastrous "I love you" story and gives him encouraging advice, and Jess witnesses Luke and Lorelai attending Liz and TJ's wedding together and seems happy about it. Neither Luke nor Jess appear to be troubled by the fact that they're both in love with a Gilmore girl.

When Luke and Lorelai start dating, Rory and Jess's previous relationship is never mentioned as an obstacle.

In S6, the infamous Truncheon kiss happens when Luke and Lorelai are engaged to be married, but that doesn't seem to be a concern for Rory and Jess at all, and the scene is completely focused on other problems.

In AYITL, when Luke asks Jess about being "over that," one of them could've said something to the effect of everything working out for the best in this regard if the writers wanted to imply that being step-cousins would impede any chance of a future relationship. Instead of that, though, we get the implication that "it's never over."

There's definitely potential for some awkwardness, but the characters' history suggests that this family link probably wouldn't be that big of a scandal for any of them.

As I've seen other people discuss here, it seems like maybe Rory was never intended to end up with any romantic partner at the end of the show because the central relationship is always Lorelai and Rory's, and the long-planned "last four words" are dialogue that they share and are focused on the "full circle" theme. ASP has expressed some disappointment that audiences focus so much on Rory's romantic life, which perhaps also suggests that the writers didn't want to finish the series with Rory in a relationship. In this Time interview (link) from right before AYITL was released, she said:

The fact that people love them and are excited about them is great. It’s just such a small part of who Rory is. I don’t see people debating “What newspaper is Rory’s working for?” “Did she win a Pulitzer yet?” It’s all about Dean and Jess. Dean was 16 years old when they dated. Everybody should go back and think about their boyfriend at 16 and then reevaluate whether that should be the focus of the conversation.

(That's kind of interesting considering what happens in AYITL. Rory is burned out and grasping at straws professionally, and there's limited mentions of what's been going on with her career in the interim years. Unlike Rory's forgotten boyfriend Paul, who presumably met Rory more recently than her OS boyfriends, Jess and Logan are both key players in the narrative and are both implied to have a significant role in Rory's future, but I digress...)

So anyway, I think there's plenty of hope that Rory and Jess could still end up together even with Luke and Lorelai being married. Thank you for the ask!

[romanarose]

Leather and Lace Universe: Halloween Special.

TF boys and their respective partners.

Summary: After the events of Will's story and before Benny's story starts, the group gets together for Halloween.

Warnings: a lil drinking, mentions of traumatic pregnancy and birth, brief mention of death by several different means in reference to how kurt cobain, selena, james dean etc died.

AN: currently, I am writing Will's story, For The Longest Time, and have written Take Your Time (frankie's story), after Leather and Lace ended. you can read this without having read TYT or FTLT, just know frankie and jana are back together, Lorelei is Will's girlfriend and the mother of his child and Santi and Laci had a baby. Right now in the time line, it's early summer, so this is a flash forward, and I'll pick back up in the summer during FTLT. I tried to keep things as vague as possible esp in regards to what gender Laci and Lorelei are having, and what exactly is going on with Ben and why Alice is suddenly not invited... but it will be clear as Will's story progresses.

*********************

They all needed this. 

The fall had been hard so far with everything going on with Ben, and the group needed a night away. Without Alice.

Everyone got a babysitter to be able to spend time together and focus on each other for a night. 

Jana’s brother, Jacob, had Rosie, and a very pregnant Jana and very sober Frankie were driving Benny, Lorelei, and Will. Alice was not invited. Santi had originally refused to go all in for a costume, so after seeing the Barbie movie in the summer, Laci and Benny had planned on being Barbie and Ken together. When Benny’s girlfriend vito’d the idea, wanting to be Barbie, Santi had caved and let Laci dress him up. Benny’s disappearance was hurting Laci terribly, and Santi was trying his best to fill in the gaps. Benny spent Halloween weekend with Alice dressed as cowboy barbie and Ken, but had allotted Halloween day for his friends. This was a positive step forward since the more the year went on, the more Ben withdrew. The group of friends valued the time they could get with him.

Will’s mom came to their house to watch their baby, and had offered to watch Santi and Laci’s newborn. They were very hesitant, considering how young the baby was and the circumstances of the birth, but they wanted to see Ben. He’d only been over to see the baby a handful of times.

Santi and Laci were the last to arrive, Laci hanging on Santiago who had an arm around her for support.

“You made it!” Benny shouts, enthusiastic and also drunk, raising his hands as he cheers. He pats Santi’s back, but just smiles at Laci.

Santiago apologized, stating it was hard to say goodbye to their child, even if only for a few hours, then asked everyone to introduce their costumes.

Lorelei was dressed in a 1950’s style dress, hair done up in curls and her signature red lipstick. Will had on a white shirt and red jacket, his hair slicked back. “We��re Judy and Jim from Rebel Without a Cause.”

“Who the hell is that?” Santi asked.

Will butted in. “I’m James Dean, that’s all you need to know.”

Lorelei would not be had. “Who the hell are you?”

Santi wore a suit, his hair also slicked back with way too much hair gel and Laci had drawn on a thin mustache. Laci, for her part, had her straight blonde hair in pig tails and a shimmery two piece club outfit that looked fit for a 60's club dancer. 

“We’re Blue Jones and Baby Doll from Sucker Punch!” Laci announced proudly, Santi helping her do a little spin. She was still recovering from her emergency C-section and needed to take it easy tonight. 

“You know Blue is the bad guy in that movie, right?” Ben asks from the table. “He tries to r-”

Santi shushes him. “AHT! I tried to tell her, she wont have it. She tells me I look like him and she wanted to wear a cute outfit.”

“Even if my body hasn’t bounced back yet.”

Santi turned to Laci chastisingly. “Mi vida, you had a baby 1 month ago, your body looked exactly like it should.” She just kissed his cheek and thanked him, then turned to the others. Laci hadn’t gained much weight during the pregnancy, and in fact began losing weight before the birth.

“Okay, your guy’s turn!”

Jana did a twirl, her long curls flying and the sparkles on her outfit making her look radiant as ever- Jana had a much easier time pregnant, she was glowing. 

“I’m Selena Quintanilla.” She wore a maroon sparkly jumpsuit that flared out at the calved. The outfit had bare midriff that proudly showed Jana prominent pregnancy.

“Oh!” Laci clasped her hands together. “Are you going to do karaoke?”

Jana confirmed she would absolutely be singing Selena.

“And so will we!” Benny proudly announced, pulling Frankie in with his arm. Frankie looked less than thrilled to be doing karaoke, but right now they were just happy Ben was with them.

“And you two are?” Laci asked.

“Kurt Cobain and Chis Cornell! We’re gonna do Hunger Strike, I’ll be singing Eddie Vedder’s part.”

Laci’s jaw dropped in a slightly dejected face. “You guys did a theme without us!”

Jana looked confused. “What, singers? Only three of us are and mostly by accident.”

“No!” She pouted, not seriously sad. “All you guys are people who died young!”

The group looked back and forth at each other, so Laci clarified. “James Dean died in a crash at 24, Natalie Wood was killed by her husband, Selena was shot, and Kurt and Chris committed suicide! We’re left out!”

“Relaje, Laci” Jana pulled her in for a playful hug. “That was on accident. At least your boyfriend didn’t reject a couples costume to dress up with his boyfriend.”

“I’m not Ben’s boyfriend!” Frankie tried to protest, but Benny wasn’t helping.

“Yes, you are.”

Frankie’s smile grew. “Yeah, I kinda am. I did go to pride with you two years ago.”

That caught Lorelei’s attention, looking up from sipping her red wine. “You went to pride?”

“To make sure Ben didn’t get hate crimed or something!”

Jana smiled slyly, enjoying riling him up. “You’ve never gone to pride with me.”

Teasingly, Frankie flicked her shoulder. “Fine, you got me.” Then turned to Laci and Santi. Ben had gone quite at the mention of pride, so Frankie changed the subject. “What would you guys even be if you were famous people who died young, there can’t be that many people who-”

Lorelei had an answer. “Marlyn Monroe and Buddy Holly, next question.”

This erupted into a very adamant denial by Santiago that he would not be caught wearing glasses, Lorelei insisting he’d need them soon, the old man, and Laci and Will looking at each other and laughing.

*

Jana had indeed gone on stage, singing Si Una Vez by Selena. Jana’s spanish was not perfect, having grown up with only one spanish speaking parent, but she could get along in both Somali and Spanish.

“Wow.” Will mused, watching her. Jana was a woman of many skills, and it should not have been surprising she had a decent singing voice. “She’s not even looking at the lyrics.”

Frankie sighed, crossing his arms and huffing as he slid down his seat a bit. “Yeah, she uhhhhh, listened to this song a lot when we broke up.”

Santi patted him on the back and they watched her perform.

Laci watched her friend, and as it ended she turned to Benny. “How are you? Anything new?” She asked him, trying to strike up conversion.

He smiled at her, looking nervous. His eyes kept darting around like he was going to get caught talking to her. “I’m good. How’s the little one?”

“Great.” Laci beamed. “Perfect, actually. Worth everything we went through to bring them here… Maybe you could come by this week?”

“Yeah, I’ll see what I got going on…” Laci knew what that meant. Benny wouldn’t be over. Benny had nothing going on except blacking out drunk and Alice. 

“Okay… you’re welcome over any time, you know that.” Laci was on extended maternity leave. Working at a women’s shelter, they knew the importance of this time with a new baby and they were not in any dire need for her to return just yet. Laci, however, was getting a little stir crazy. Santi was almost always around, Will and Lorelei visited, and Jana and Frankie were over a lot as the godparents. Still, Laci missed her Benny. In the early months of coming back to the states, Benny was her godsend. He treated her like a normal person, and as much as she adored her husband, Santi’s hovering could be a lot. She wanted him with her, and she wanted him to get to know the baby.

“Frankie.” Benny nudged his friend, pointing him to where Jana stood after exciting the stage. She was talking to a very drunk man, looking thoroughly unimpressed and visibly cringing. “Someones trying to steal your girl.”

“Oh now what the hell” Frankie grumbles as he pushed Santi out of the booth. “AYE PENDEJO! SHE’S CLEARLY PREGNANT!” Jana was not the kind of girl to need rescuing, but Frankie would be damned if he left her like that.

For three hours, they all hung out, laughed, sang and drank. Santi even offered to sing karaoke with Laci since Ben had bailed on I’m Just Ken with her, but Laci was a shy singer. She needed someone to carry the show for her. Plus, she knew it would make Santi uncomfortable to be on a stage, and she wouldn’t put him through that.

At around 12, after Benny and Frankie won the couples costume of the night (proving Jana’s point), Laci’s head was resting on Santi’s shoulder.

“Hey Munequita.” Santi nudged her. “You ready to go home?”

Laci nodded sleepily. 

Everyone said their goodbyes, and Santi helped Laci down from the chair and out the door of the bar.

“Wait!” They heard Benny’s voice from the bar doorway, dashing outside without a coat.

Santi and Laci stopped, Benny running up to them but slowing down in time to be careful with Laci. Gentle, he bent down the considerable height difference between them and hugged her. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Benny.” Laci teared up, letting go of Santi to hold him fully. “I’m here for you, we both are.”

**************

@pimosworld @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @whatthefishh @missdictatorme @milkymoon2483 @poeedameronn@itspdameronthings @miraclesabound @babymills16 @rayslittlekitten @ellenmunn @hon3yboy

[walker-extended-universe]

Hunters Suck

Relationship(s): N/A

Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe- Government Agency, Fear, Ghosts, Anxiety, Hurt No Comfort, Dean Winchester Being an Asshole, Sam Winchester Being an Asshole

Summary:

Hunters were government contract agents. They were responsible for handling the monsters of the world- once they landed in the United States at least. It was a difficult job, one of the highest mortality rates outside of the military. It took lots of specialized training and various levels of psych evaluation to even be considered for the job. Sam and Dean Winchester were the best in the business. They came from a long line of hunters that started as early as the first iteration of the D.S.P. (Department of Supernatural Phenomena). They had the highest scores in their training class and the highest kill count out of anyone else currently working in the Hunter Division. The worst part was: they knew it.

Written for @augustofwhump day 21: Set up to Fail, Bitter

Taglist: @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks. @klaatu51, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

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

“Walker, got a minute?”

Cordell looked up at James. “Do I have a choice?”

“Not really.”

He sighed and followed his former partner into his office. “What’s the bad news, Cap?”

“Does it have to be bad news?”

“If we’re in your office and I have no choice, it probably is.”

James shrugged. “Fair enough. Remember the Winchesters?”

Cordell’s stomach dropped. “Wh- No. No. I don’t care what the job is or how many people have died. No.”

“Walker-

“No! No, I don’t care! They- They can’t just walk in here and force me to be their bait every time they get sent to Texas! I’m not doing it again! I refuse! I-I’ll turn in my badge! They can't make me if I’m not a Ranger….”

James sighed. “You can’t quit over this and, unfortunately, they can just come down here and request you specifically whenever they get a job in the state.”

“No. No, I’m not doing this again.” Cordell stood up and started pacing. “There has to be a way out of this. Can’t you say I’m already busy with something else?”

“You know these cases take priority.”

Cordell groaned. “Okay, then I’m sick. They can’t make me work if I’m sick.”

“The only way that would work is if you’d already put in the time off before the orders came in. Which you didn’t. And, before you ask, I’m not risking my badge to fake the paperwork for you.”

“Is- Is there anything else we could-”

“No. And if there was, I would’ve done it instead of telling you about this.” James sighed. “I know how these Hunters are. If you ask me, they’ve got way too much sway over local law enforcement, but I’m not in charge of that. All I can do is tell you they’ll be here after lunch and they want to get started immediately.”

Cordell groaned. “Great. I’ll just go home to tell my family I love them one last time and make sure all my affairs are in order.”

“Walker, they’re not-”

“Do NOT tell me they’re not that bad! Did you forget what happened last time?! That djinn almost drained me before they finally took care of it!”

“And you were adequately compensated for the medical and therapy costs.”

“I still have nightmares.”

“Unfortunately the government doesn’t care about that.”

“I know; the best part of this job is that I don’t have to rely on the fucking VA for my healthcare.”

James shrugged. “I’m sorry, man. I really am. But I can’t stop it and you don’t really have much choice. Besides, their research says it’s just a ghost. It shouldn’t be that bad.”

Cordell snorted. Last time, their research had assured him it was just a vampire. He wouldn’t be surprised if this “ghost” turned out to be a demon or some low level god. He swore they did half-assed research on purpose just to make him suffer. “Whatever. I’m going home to prepare myself. With any luck, you’ll actually see me again in the morning.”

“I’ll make sure to include your enthusiastic cooperation in your performance review,” James said dryly. “And try to be on time. You know how those Hunters get when they’re inconvenienced.”

“Oh, yeah, we’d hate for them to be inconvenienced,” Cordell muttered as he stormed out of the office.

This was just not going to be his day.

—-----------------------

Hunters were government contract agents. They were responsible for handling the monsters of the world- once they landed in the United States at least. It was a difficult job, one of the highest mortality rates outside of the military. It took lots of specialized training and various levels of psych evaluation to even be considered for the job.

Like most government agents, they enjoyed rubbing it in the faces of state and local law enforcement whenever they rolled into town. They also had a tendency to ignore the basic rules and policies that their training academy supposedly drilled into them. As long as the monster was killed, they were free to do almost anything they wanted. Granted, most of them were pretty tame and saved their antics for when they were off the clock. But, some of them, the ones that knew they were too good to be fired for anything they did in the field, took it to the extreme.

Sam and Dean Winchester were the best in the business. They came from a long line of hunters that started as early as the first iteration of the D.S.P. (Department of Supernatural Phenomena). They had the highest scores in their training class and the highest kill count out of anyone else currently working in the Hunter Division.

The worst part was: they knew it.

They knew very well that they could waltz into any law enforcement office, ask for anyone they wanted, and their wishes would be granted. Once the monster was killed, they could blow their work credit cards on the best hotels and craziest parties to celebrate a job well done. They were the annoyance of every fine establishment and state-level agency from the California coast to the very tip of Maine.

And, for some reason, they enjoyed picking on one tall Texas Ranger.

Was it because of his height? Did they work with him once and have a little too much fun? Did they just get a kick out of seeing him get all flustered? They’d never tell. It’s no one’s business anyway. As long as the monster is dead, who really cares how it got done?

—-----------

“Do you two really need me for this? Aren’t you guys the best in the business? Why do you need me for a simple salt and burn?” Cordell didn’t care if he sounded like he was whining. He felt like he was entitled to a little whining after almost a decade of this treatment.

“Didn’t you read the file?” Sam smirked. “It’s not just one ghost. We’ve got a set of twins.”

Cordell groaned. “Still, only two ghosts. That should be easy enough for you.”

“Yeah, but it’s easier when we have bait.” Dean winked. “Look, they were buried in the backyard. We can handle that part. You just gotta keep those freaky girls busy so they don’t come after us, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cordell muttered. “What triggers them again? Just being in the house or-”

“Being in the house and being male should do it,” Sam said. “They both murdered their husbands after a little cheating scandal.”

“Great.” Cordell picked up the iron crowbar and salt container. “See you on the other side I guess.”

“Have fun!” Dean quipped as he entered the front door. Cordell resisted the urge to flip him off.

—--------------

Cordell grunted as one of the sisters threw him against a wall. “How long does it take to dig a grave?” he muttered to himself. He knew there was more than one body but they were buried close together, basically in the same grave. How hard could it be?

“Foolish man! How dare you enter our sanctuary!” The other twin swooped in and claws at him. 

He hissed as her fingers burned across his chest, leaving long claw marks in their wake. “Dammit,” he groaned, trying to sit up. “Any minute now, jackasses….”

The crowbar had been lost about an hour ago and the salt was quickly thrown into the fireplace after that. Cordell was basically defenseless in here and he would bet any amount of money that those Winchesters were taking their time on purpose. They always seemed to, for whatever reason.

The twins continued to bounce him around the house. He lost count of how many broken ribs he got- which probably had something to do with his head injury- and he just wanted this to be over. He almost didn’t care if he walked out of this house alive. It might be fun to haunt Sam and Dean for a bit. 

At one point, he was able to crawl over to the fireplace and grab one of the iron fire pokers to field the twins off. It wasn’t much, but he’d take that over a potential coma.

He tried to look out the back windows to see how much closer Sam and Dean were to the bodies, but the graves must be somewhere he couldn’t see from the windows. Otherwise, he might think the Winchesters just left him there.

Thank God they got paid not to do that.

After far too many minutes, Cordell finally got to see the twins burst into flames. Unfortunately, one of them caught his hat, so he almost lost some hair on top of it all.

All in all- it could’ve been worse.

He stumbled out of the house toward his truck. “Thanks for taking your time,” he muttered as the Winchesters were packing up.

“Oh, quit your whining. We dug that grave double time for you,” Sam insisted.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Cordell was just going to quit today. He was never doing this again. Ever.

[blakelysco-pilot]

Chickie!! Oh I love those OC asks 🤭 3, 4, 8, and 22 for both Val & Jo?

These were so fun thank you chickie!!

asks from this OC asks list - inbox is still open for questions 💗

3) What song describes your OC?

Run to You by Whitney Houston describes a specific period of Val's life. She's been hurt, she's scared it will happen again, and the person who protected her the last time, she can't be sure if he'll be there forever. She want's to throw her arms open to Ev and collapse into him, but it petrifies her.

And just for funsies, because I fully believe Val to be a Madonna fan, Like a Prayer for obvious reasons.

Is That Alright by Lady Gaga is so quintessentially Jo in that she so clearly sees the future mapped out for her and Rosie, even before either of them admit they're in love with the other. She knows that he's the one that will be there when they grow old, and he'll be the one that she starts her family with, and be by her side.

And because Jo also deserves a "just for fun" song, Love in the First Degree by Bananarama.

4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?

Ev & Val- Senza Fine by Dean Martin In Italian, Senza Fine means Endlessly and I think that's perfectly defines their relationship. It's endless.

Rosie & Jo- Nice n' Easy by Frank Sinatra The lyrics speak for themselves:

Let's take it nice and easy It's gonna be so easy For us to fall in love Hey baby what's your hurry Relax and don't you worry We're gonna fall in love We're on the road to romance, that's safe to say But let's make all the stops along the way

8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?

Jo bakes (yes Rosie, we know you're upset you couldn't be the cookie taste tester this year), and she also sews. She's particularly good at dress patterns, which we'll see more of post-war when the babies start arriving. She also loves a good book, which is evident by the fact that all the wives of the men of the 100th have started a book club after the war, which is really just a way for them to get together monthly and drink martinis and gossip. They love it, but the husbands are sometimes less than enthusiastic when their wives come home after one too many Jean Crosby martinis.

Val, like Jo, is part of the book club with the rest of the girls after the war. During the war, she's the go-to when one of the fellas needs their shirt or pants mended. Sewing is a skill her mother insisted she know, and it's paid off in one way or another not just for fixing up the boys' uniforms but her own clothes. When she can't settle, she braids the red string bracelets for the boys, an Italian superstition/form of protection that somehow takes on a life of its own on base after she makes them for Ev and Doug (and always one for Curt, reckless that boy). After the war, Val finds happiness in helping her friends decorate their new homes, and Ev Blakely will be the first to admit, she makes a mean Sunday dinner.

22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?

Val is a fighter, specifically when it comes to her friends. We see it when Olive and Doug are at odds and she ends up fighting with Ev for a week, but also the physical side of her fighter nature when she goes to swing at him for his inappropriate comment. But, she's also a lover. She loves hard, and if she loves someone, she makes sure they know it. This extends beyond Ev and Curt, but to her friends as their group grows over time.

Jo is a lover girl through and through. She loves Rosie, she loves her friends and her extended family. She especially shows this in how she takes Jean Crosby under her wing at the start of the war. But, she will fight from time to time, and if she's yelling at you, then take shelter. That means you, Rosie.

[vaicomcas]

OK so I know the show made Cas choose these outlandish FBI agent names (Aguerrila and Spears, Beyonce etc) to demonstrate that he is clueless and inept with hunting.

But I have a different explanation, perhaps pure self-indulgence.

He knew these names were outlandish and not believable. He did it as a private joke to make fun of the Winchesters and their fake FBI agent gig. It was a spoof, a skit he played all for himself.

Look, he internalized the derisions of the Winchesters about his abilities as a hunter. He believed it. But there was a childish side of him that felt resentful anyways, so it manifested itself as this secret parody. When the Winchesters roll their eyes at the ridiculous names he made up, he kept a straight face, pretending to be the clueless "dorky little guy" they think him to be. But inside he was laughing and entertaining himself.

When Crowley saw this, he recognized it for what it was immediately. He found it hillarious and endearing, and he joined the game enthusiastically and seamlessly ("that makes me agent Jay Z").

And Cas was taken aback at first, like a child who was caught doing something naughty. But later after he let go of his prejudice against Crowley and allowed himself to enjoy Crowley's friendship, that's when his heart truly sang knowing he had a partner to play this secret game with "I agree with Agent Zapa".

Sam and Dean thought they could ridicule Cas. Cas was ridicuing them all along using their own smugness against them.

[bookishtheaterlover7]

There's something boggling my mind: brace yourself this is gonna be long.

Brad Pitt another A-list and Hollywood celebrity like Chris apparently is dating his manager 26 years younger than him! I checked and he's 60 years old and his current woman 26 years old just like Abba. So what is boggling my mind is that, why Chris got backlash for it when the age gap between he and Abba is just 16 basically half of the age gap between Brad and his current partner but NO ONE is saying nothing about them. He's still has million of fans loving (yes loving him!) and supporting him, even the general public is interested in him despite this weird relationship. Why?¿?¿ it makes no sense tbh whatever conclusion we come up with.

Honestly I can accept age gaps until 17 let's say roughly 20 but only if they're both consensual adults. I think 26 years difference even if Brad's woman is an adult is too much given that he's 60 years old. However they're just dating for now.

Another famous hw couple Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Hilarie Burton have 16 years age difference and no one is saying nothing bad but rooting for them together (same). Yes she's 41 and he's 57 but let's not forget they dated/married pretty young and EVERYONE in a age gap relationship will reach that. Same thing you know?

Another famous hw couple Rosie Whiteley and Jason Statham - 20 years of age difference but his fans never left and they do love and support him like before even his woman is well liked by his fans and he showed her off multiple times.

There are plenty of other famous hw couples (most married) with even bigger age gaps but I see no one complaining even if the man shows up at every event with his woman and viceversa and fans are literally happy for them.

Now, I know Chris and Abba are PR but why for him dating/marrying younger is a "problem" when the age gap between them is not even 20 while other hw couples (in love forreal) with even bigger age gaps live their lives normally and fans are more happier than ever with their fave being happy with their women ??

This makes me think that the age gap is just an excuse (mainly cause she's a fcking adult wether you like it or not) because it's clear to me after I mentioned all those couples and no one bothering them but being supportive instead, some fans do not want to admit her not nice personality aka racism aka trolling aka disrespecting towards Chris in general so they use the age gap excuse.

If the woman wasn't racist, a porn enthusiast, a troll, a clout chaser, disrespectful towards journalists I surely had no issue with her being Chris's partner and I'm more older than her and I look younger than my age just like Abba.

That's it. Sorry for my long ass vent, Mod ❤️ but I want to clarify this is not aimed at you but those who have a problem with it and they better grow up. Also sorry if I made grammar mistakes as English is not my first language.

I'm team Chris 🙌💙

I braced myself, An🫶n and I'm glad I did.

Exactly! It's honestly easier to use the most basic shallow reasons, because if we use the real reasons, it'd be a long ass Convo with a ton of back and forth, wherein, you're not even sure you can change a person's mind by the end of it.

So, yeah. Not a problem for the other couples, because in a way, they aren't problematic. Meanwhile Albitch... Has a long trail of red flags to follow her around 😆

Don't worry about it! This was a good read. And definitely insightful, and sometimes we really do gotta get it off our chests.

And I understood you perfectly ☺️

Welcome to the Team!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[samsexualdeancurious]

Not Fine At All (NSFW)

Pairing: Benny x Dean

Words: 3,283

Summary: Dean's first Heat in Purgatory sucks but he still turns down Benny's offers of help. He may regret that, though, especially as each Heat gets progressively worse...

Warnings: Omegaverse, Omega!Dean, Alpha!Benny, Beta!Cas, Heat sex, SamDean if you squint (I intended it as platonic but it's up for interpretation), making up my own Purgatory and Omegaverse lore cos I can, kinda dubious consent cos Dean's in Heat but he's enthusiastic about it sooooo

Betaed by @banshee1013

Written for a Patron request

---

It’s been so long since Dean last had a Heat, he’s almost forgotten what they feel like. It’s not until Benny turns a concerned expression on him, nose wrinkling and mouth twisted in a frown, that Dean realizes what the cramping in his gut means as slick begins to dampen his boxers.

“Fuck,” he growls under his breath but he doesn’t stop walking.

“Dean-”

“I know. I’m fine.”

In all the chaos since he landed in Purgatory, suppressants have been the last thing on his mind. There’s nothing he can do about them anyway. Not like he can just walk into a pharmacy and palm his favorites like he usually would. Now, though, the reality of his situation is setting in even as he forces himself to breathe deeply. He needs to stay calm.

“Dean, we should stop-”

Benny’s hand curls around Dean’s wrist and moments later, he’s pressed against a tree with Dean’s knife at his throat. Dean snarls, a low sound that makes Benny shrink back even further. An angry Omega is not to be reckoned with. Even a Vampire knows that.

Even an Alpha knows that.

“Touch me again and you won’t have a knot to worry about. Try anything and you won’t have a head.”

Dean’s tone leaves no room for argument and Benny gives a minute nod. Dean releases him. When he steps back, Benny puts his hands up in a placating gesture.

“I won’t do anything you don’t consent to,” Benny says firmly. “You’re going to draw all sorts of monsters to us, though, so we’ll have to be on our guard even more than normal. If you need to stop-”

“We’re going to keep moving,” Dean breaks in, still snappy even though he’s feeling some wary relief at Benny’s assurances. “I’m fine.”

“All right.” Benny rubs his throat where Dean’s knife had pressed against his skin and steps away from the tree at least. “Let me know if that changes.”

Dean huffs out an angry breath through his nose. “It won’t.”

--

Except it does.

With each month, Dean’s three-day Heats grow progressively more intense. Everything triggers a flood of slick, especially Benny’s smooth Southern drawl. He seems to be throwing off more and more pheromones with each one and while Benny’s self-control hasn’t faltered, Dean definitely can’t say as much about the other monsters they’ve encountered. Some even seem to have actively sought him out, tracking his scent through the eternal twilight only to meet their end at the edge of his blade.

Every month Benny tentatively offers his “services” and Dean turns him down with a growl, but saying “no” is getting harder and harder. Despite being a Vampire, Benny isn’t all that bad and Dean finds himself developing some fondness for him. Not to mention he’s hot and smells fantastic. For a Vampire. It took him a bit to figure out exactly what he was smelling but somehow the homey blend of cayenne, garlic, and woodsmoke makes sense. Though he did have to suppress a snicker when he pinpointed the garlic aspect, the irony doesn’t make the blend any less enticing.

In fact, Benny is starting to smell more and more appealing with every day that passes. Dean refuses to cave, though. He needs to focus on finding Cas and then getting the hell out of here. Fucking his Vampire partner-in-crime is not on the to-do list.

--

“You look unwell,” Cas says with a bluntness that makes Dean chuckle.

It’s been about two weeks since they found Castiel and Dean can feel his Heat coming on hard and fast. He’s getting better at recognizing the symptoms now. As soon as he gets back home, he’s going back on the suppressants and sticking with them for the rest of his life. How do people deal with this bullshit every month?

“I feel unwell,” Dean grumbles back to his friend. He’s got a fever coming on but he’s trying really hard not to show it. Obviously, he’s failing.

The Beta frowns at him and reaches out to press two fingers to Dean’s forehead. Dean half expects the bizarrely cold rush that comes with Cas using his Grace to heal but nothing happens.

“Your body temperature is quite high.”

“Yeah, that happens.”

Cas looks even more worried but Dean shrugs him off.

“Look, I’m fine. I’ll be fine. This is normal.”

“Dean, you’re going into Heat.”

“You think I don’t know that?” The words come out harsher than he really means them and he regrets it when Cas stiffens. “Sorry. I… fuck, Cas. I know, okay? I’ve been dealing with them this whole time. It’s fine.”

“He’s not fine,” Benny grumbles.

The Vampire a little further down the riverbank, washing the blood of a werewolf that attacked them from his hands. Cas was right. He is like a beacon for monsters. Between his Grace and Dean’s oncoming Heat, their encounters with other monsters have definitely picked up.

Straightening up, Benny shakes water from his hands. He fixes Dean with a steely blue stare. “You’re going to burn yourself out at this rate.”

“Look. Get me back home and I’ll be fine. I’ll get my meds and things will go back to normal.”

Dean keeps his voice level, shoving down the part of him that knows Benny is right. Too many Heats without the relief of an Alpha can have a devastating effect on an Omega’s body. He’d never really thought about that in the context of himself until now. The cramping has reached the point where Dean can barely walk some days. His fever has been getting worse, too, and he’s already sweating through his shirt before his Heat has even fully taken hold. His cock is hard against his zipper, slick sticking his boxers to his skin.  It takes every ounce of his willpower not to throw himself at Benny’s feet and beg for the Alpha’s knot.

Neither Benny nor Cas seem convinced by Dean’s words. They’re still barely getting along but this seems to be something they can agree on. Dean refuses to admit that he might agree with them, too.

Dean pretends he doesn’t see the look they just exchanged as he pushes himself to his feet. “C’mon. We’ve been sitting too long. Let’s go.”

He barely makes it two steps, though, before a cramp sends him to his knees with a groan.

“Dean!”

Cas is by his side in a heartbeat, neutral Beta scent surprisingly soothing as Dean curls in on himself and leans on his friend to stay upright. He tries to brush off Cas’s hand as the Angel checks his temperature again but stern blue eyes stop his complaints.

“You’re burning up,” Cas says, not even trying to hide how worried he is. “We’re not going anywhere else today. You need to rest, at the very least.”

What Dean needs is to get out of this Godforsaken hell hole but he doesn’t say that. He’s never had a Heat hit this hard, this fast, and he’s not sure he could even stand in order to find shelter.

“There’s a cave a little further along the river,” Benny is saying when Dean manages to focus beyond the desperate, churning need in his belly. “I was going to suggest we stop there anyways.”

“That will do. Help me get him up.”

Dean finds himself lifted by strong hands, one pair neutral and familiar, the other bringing with them the unmistakable scent of Alpha.

“Nuh-uh,” Benny says and Dean realizes fuzzily that he said the word out loud. “C’mon, brother. Up you go.”

Dean is slung into a fireman’s carry across Benny’s strong shoulders and his hole pulses with slick in response to the proximity. His mind and body are at war within him. Every inch of him craves the Vampire’s, every nerve singing at the current situation.

Dean is not fine. Dean is not fine at all.

The hike to the cave is a blur of being torn between the desperate cramping in his belly and the fragments of sweet relief that come with each flex of Benny’s powerful muscles, each murmured soothing word, each squeeze of his hand where it’s wrapped around the back of Dean’s thigh.

Twilight turns to night as Benny lowers Dean onto the floor of the cave and into Cas’s waiting hands. Dean hears a low, needy whine at the loss of contact. Some part of him processes the sound as coming from him and he curls in on himself as he lands heavily on the dirt and stone floor.

It’s never been this bad. Not even his first time, sixteen and confused and so very scared in a shitty small town motel with his panicked little brother by his side.

His brother.

Sam.

Just the thought of his brother pulls a helpless sob from Dean’s chest and he shudders. Someone’s speaking to him, pressing cold cloths to his forehead, but the bland smell of them just emphasizes the lack of Sam’s warm sandalwood, coffee, brother scent. He can’t have an Alpha, doesn’t deserve one, but Sam is his and he is Sam’s, and the next best thing after a knot will always be curling up in Sam’s arms in a shitty motel bed with just boxers between them.

He has to get back to Sam. Sam can help. Sam will make it all better.

A scent is slipping through the fog in his mind, though, like a lighthouse beam reaching out to a sinking ship. Dean grabs for it and finds himself with a fistful of Benny’s jacket.

“Whoa, easy, cher.”

“Alpha,” Dean gasps, blinking up at the Vampire in the dim light. Cas is already shoving Benny back with a snarl and Benny goes willingly. Too willingly. Does he not want Dean? “Alpha, please-”

But Benny is shaking his head. “You’re not in your right mind. It would be wrong.”

Cas presses a cool cloth to Dean’s forehead. “Go stand guard. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

No.

“No.” The word is barely there but it still stops Benny in his tracks. “No, Cas, I’m-” Dean grits his teeth as a wave of cramps and fresh slick rocks his body. “I’m dying.”

He doesn’t know how he knows, couldn’t explain it if they asked, but he knows. Maybe not this Heat, maybe not the next one, but soon. He won’t make it out of Purgatory if he keeps going like this. That’s what happens to Omegas who go too many Heats without an Alpha. They burn up from the inside out and die and Dean cannot die. He won’t.

“You’re not-” Benny starts but Cas silences him with a shake of his head.

“He is,” Cas sighs. He wipes the cloth in his hand across Dean’s cheekbones. “I can feel it.”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

Cas fixes Benny with an intense glare, Angel nature standing firm against Alpha fury. “It’s Dean’s choice.”

“Clearly he’s not very good at making choices!”

“I’m right here,” Dean groans, arching his back to try and relieve the throbbing at the base of his spine. When that doesn’t work, he pushes himself up onto his elbows to look between his friends. He’s a fucking mess, slick and sweat sticking his filthy clothes to his skin. He’s feeling a little more lucid but it won’t last long. “And I choose living.”

Silence falls in the cave.

“Dean-”

“Benny.” He meets blue eyes through the dim light, trying to keep his gaze steady. “You said to let you know if things changed and I’m telling you - I’m not fine at all.”

Benny curses under his breath and Cas looks between them with a confused frown that would be adorable in another situation. Benny scrubs a hand over his face, drawing a deep breath, and then nods.

“Okay,” he says. “If you’re sure.”

Relief floods Dean’s body at those words at the same time his hole releases another gush of slick. He nods and shoves away the cloth Cas is still using to dab at his face.

“Go, Cas.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“If Benny’s in here, someone needs to stand guard and it sure as hell ain’t gonna be me. Get your feathered ass up there.”

Cas growls but stands. He glares at Benny again.

“If you hurt him-”

“You’ll kill me. I know.”

“He isn’t going to do anything I’m not begging for,” Dean snaps. “And I ain’t doing any of it in front of you.”

Cas’s nose wrinkles. “It’s just-”

“Cas.”

The Angel huffs but climbs up the short slope to the cave entrance and out of sight. As he goes, Dean realizes he’s not wearing his trenchcoat. The item in question is spread across the cave floor beneath Dean like a makeshift blanket.

“You’re sure about this?” Benny asks, pulling Dean’s attention back to him and god he smells so good.

Unsure how to make it more obvious, Dean wriggles around onto his hands and knees. He hears Benny’s breath catch when he drops his shoulders down into a traditional presentation.

“Fuck me, Alpha.”

That’s all the invitation Benny needs. He’s on Dean in a heartbeat, blanketing him from behind and Dean can’t hold back a whine when he feels the Vampire’s bulge. It’s impressive even though multiple layers and Dean needs.

Benny is careful not to rip anything as he peels Dean’s jeans and boxers off him, tossing them aside. He kneels between Dean’s spread legs and when his hands finally land on the bare curve of Dean’s ass, they both groan.

Dean’s never had an Alpha for a Heat before and he has no clue what to expect but the careful press of a thick finger against his hole isn’t it. He won’t say but he was half anticipating Benny to just shove it in. Benny seems intent on taking his time, though.

“I won’t hurt you,” Benny says and Dean realizes fuzzily that he was talking out loud again. Before he can respond, though, Benny slides his finger in all the way and any train of thought Dean might have had goes right off the tracks.

Benny’s fingers are thick and calloused, pressing and twisting and working Dean open until he’s taking three of them knuckle-deep. He whines and grinds back on them, trying to get those fingers against his prostate only for them to be abruptly pulled out.

“Alpha,” he pleads, arching his spine and spreading his legs further. “I need-”

The jingle of Benny’s belt buckle silences him as he processes what that means. Then an impossibly thick, hot cock rests against his hole and all Dean can manage is a strangled whimper.

Benny is saying things, sweet things made even sweeter by the lazy drawl of his accent, as he slides his cock through the mess of slick Dean’s body keeps making. His thighs are coated in the stuff, fat drops of it pooling on the trenchcoat beneath him. One huge hand curls around the point of Dean’s hip. Benny draws back a little and Dean almost protests but the fat cock head against his hole silences any complaint he could muster.

When Benny finally presses inside, Dean’s brain ceases to function entirely. He’s been fucked before but he’s heard how amazing Heat sex is and never believed it. Now, he’s not sure he can go back to regular sex. Not when he knows what it’s like to feel the slow glide of a huge Alpha cock against his insides, all the way in until Benny’s hips are pressed flush to Dean’s ass and Dean can feel the beginnings of the Vampire’s knot just inside his entrance.

“Oh, my God,” Dean manages.

Benny just growls in response. He’s folded forward, bracing himself with palms pressed flat on either side of Dean’s shoulders. When he pulls out, it’s only a few inches to test the waters as he pushes back inside. Just that small movement sends a pulse of relief through Dean’s body and his forgotten cock drips precum to join the mess he’s already made of Cas’s coat. It’s too gentle, though. Not what Dean needs.

He uncurls one arm from its place pillowing his head and flails back to grab at Benny’s wrist. He turns his head to see the Alpha staring down at him with lust-blown eyes.

“Fuck me.”

That’s all the invitation Benny needs. He sets up a punishing rhythm that has Dean’s cries echoing off the cave walls. He’s never heard himself like this, but then again, he’s never felt like this. The unrelenting cock inside him, the powerful hips driving it as deep as it will fit, the strong hands leaving bruises on his hips and shoulders and wrists. It’s simultaneously too much and exactly what Dean needs.

His body rocks with each thrust, his cock bouncing, ignored, against his belly. A small part of Dean wants to reach down and jerk himself in time with Benny’s movements but it’s all he can do to keep himself from going face-first into the floor with every forward shove. Instead, he braces himself the best he can and hangs on.

Who knows how long it goes on before Benny’s knot begins to grow. He continues to press in deep with every thrust, stretching Dean open each time he pops in and out. Dean feels like he’s going cross-eyed, losing his mind, burning up from the inside out with desire. He’d scoffed at it, the Omega “need” for a knot. Sure, a knotting dildo was a good time but that was outside of Heat and this… this is beyond words.

“Gonna knot you,” Benny snarls,  his face pressed into the hair behind Dean’s left ear.

“Do it.”

Just like that, the next time Benny shoves the massive bulge past Dean’s rim, he can’t pull out again. He growls, animalistic in his pleasure as he begins grinding his knot as deep as he can. When Dean whines and squirms, Benny only pins him in place with the weight of his body. When Dean begs at last for a hand on his cock, Benny tightens his grip on Dean’s wrists.

“You’ll cum on my knot, Omega.”

Dean wants to protest but he’s already so close, dancing right on the edge of bliss, and all it takes is the perfectly timed, perfectly angled press of Benny’s knot to send him over it.

--

Dean doesn’t remember blacking out but he must have because as he comes to he’s on his side, Benny’s knot still locked inside him and the Alpha’s body curled against his back. Benny is gently wiping Dean’s face with one of the wet cloths Cas used earlier - torn from the hem of Cas’s own t-shirt, Dean realizes now - and murmuring nonsense words in his ear.

“Benny?” Dean murmurs, snuggling back against the Alpha out of instinct and whining when doing so jostles the knot. He feels it throb, feels the pulse of cum that results, and his cock twitches out of interest.

“Shh.” A broad thumb rubs along the line of his collarbone, palm pressed flat on his chest. “How’re you feelin’, cher?”

“I’m just fine.” The words are all muddled up around a yawn. For the first time since he entered Purgatory, Dean feels tired. Sleep has been almost a foreign concept at this point but now he almost feels human again.

Benny chuckles low against the curve of his shoulder and the proximity of those fangs to vulnerable places should freak Dean out - but it doesn’t. He knows his Alpha would never hurt him.

His Alpha. There’s something he’d rather not think about too hard for right now.

“I think you’re probably feeling a little better than fine. Rest.”

Dean obeys.

—

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[itsfuckingdeanwinchester]

Dean a human and hunter as well as a member of the Men of Letters with his younger brother Sam. He and his brother are members of the Winchester and Campbell families. Through his father, Dean is the older half-brother of Adam Milligan. Dean is also the destined vessel of the Archangel Michael. He and Sam are also the surrogate sons of the late Bobby Singer. Dean is best friends with the angel Castiel, close friend to the late prophet Kevin Tran, and reluctant ally of Crowley. Dean has an ex-girlfriend, Lisa Braeden, who he lived with for a year when he thought Sam was in Hell. She has a child named Ben, who Dean acted as a father for during that year. Dean's biological child was an amazon named Emma. He is also the former apprentice of Alastair. When he was killed by Metatron whilst using the Mark of Cain, Dean returned as a demon and a Knight of Hell loyal only to himself. He was then cured by his brother using purified blood. Eventually, the Mark was removed, but the price was that the Darkness has now been released into the world, something Dean tried to avoid. Dean and his brother soon met God who returned to help put an end to the danger to the world. During this time, Dean got through to God about not sacrificing himself and The Darkness about not destroying all of reality and helped them reconcile. As a reward, Dean was given back his mother and was able to return to his usual style of hunting with his family. Dean Winchester, from the moment of his debut, was shown to be an understanding, funny, mischievous, and, in contrast to his younger brother, a little immature. Dean's shown countless times to be good with kids and the ladies. At an early age, Dean was trained by his father, John Winchester, to hunt and kill creatures of the supernatural. However, unlike his brother Sam, he did not resent his father for having him "raised like a warrior". He seemed to prefer hunting the supernatural over any normal "apple pie" life, though it was revealed that when he was sixteen, he did in fact desire (or at least hope for) a normal life: he just couldn't leave Sam.Dean is an avid fan of classic rock music. Many of his aliases have included the names of famous rock musicians. He is known to use crude humor, use pop culture references, make sexual innuendos,Dean typically avoids emotional intimacy, preferring to engage with women only as sexual partners. However, he has had a few long-term relationships over the years. Dean values his family's safety over anything else, even going so far as to kill a demon and its human host in order to save Sam's life, as well as sacrificing his very soul and suffering in hell to resuscitate his brother.Dean is typically ruthless and aggressive when he is hunting, a task which he approaches enthusiastically, making him the more merciless of the Winchester siblings. Despite these traits, Dean is very laid-back and well-disposed when not on the hunt, and he values the safety of his family and innocent civilians above all else, even his own life. Though on occasion he can be somewhat impulsive as well as arrogant, Dean is both extremely intelligent and competent. He is more likely to exhibit irrational behavior when his family is threatened. Dean shows on multiple occasions a soft spot for children. He is very good with them, able to talk to them with ease, and he is always very sympathetic; this most likely stems from the fact he practically raised Sam when he was a child. Dean's affection extends to nearly all children, particularly young ones, although he also cares about teenagers. Dean is more willing to put his life in danger for children than he is for nearly anyone else. Dean's affection even extends to monster children, and despite his ruthless approach to hunting, he's usually unwilling to kill monster children unless he has a crucial need. As a demon, Dean's soul became twisted and he no longer empathized with others. He cared only for himself and what he needed.