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#supernatural blurbs
chvoswxtch · 7 months
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dean winchester masterlist
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»— anything marked with an astrik contains explicit content. minors dni.
»— all work is my own. please do not repost anywhere else without my consent.
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☾ one shots
→ texas heat
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caitlyn-winchester · 2 years
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Blurb Requests (Open)
i’m going to open up blurb requests bc i’m bored and want to get my brain moving
Request any scenario you’d like but please keep it short because this is for blurbs only
what I won’t do:
- smut
- sad endings
who I write for
- JJ Maybank x reader
- John B sister!reader
- Winchester sister!reader
- Jack Kline x reader
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sunshinemunchkin · 2 years
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Supernatural
Dean Winchester
WHORE
Through and Through

Sam Winchester
coming soon
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little-pondhead · 2 months
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The Curse Of Hope
_
Danny is in another universe. He had a reason, but he doesn’t remember anymore. He can only stare, horrified and disgusted, at the sickest city spirit he’s ever seen. Shivering and swaying with every step, core exposed, and ectoplasm leaking from wounds that are decades old. A ratty blanket was thrown over their shoulders, barely hiding the spirit’s pale grey skin and protruding black bones.
The spirit didn’t even sense him until he reached out to touch its wispy shoulders. The spirit flinched, clutching at the dozens of trinkets hanging from their neck and tucking in on themselves like they were expecting a blow.
“Oh, shit,” He swore, floating back a few feet, hands in the air, to show he meant no harm. “I’m sorry. I promise, I’m not here to steal from you.” The spirit shivered again and rolled a pearl necklace in between their fingers. A nervous habit. “Uh, I like that pocket watch? It’s very nice.”
That got their attention. They peeked at Danny, and he saw that more tattered cloth was covering their eyes, blending in with the stringy hair that reached the ground. Their blanket fluttered weakly, revealing hundreds of thousands of tiny marks etched into their skin. Scars, really. Scars that wrote out curse after curse onto the spirit’s very being. They burned with evil intent, and even reached inside the spirit’s body and wrapped around their core.
Occasionally, blinding specks of color raced across their body, temporarily erasing the writing, but it always returned quickly. He watched, a little detached, as one particular line rewrote itself across their rough forearm, drawing fresh ectoplasm like someone was writing it with a thin knife.
“Are you…alright?” Danny stuttered. A stupid question.
The spirit cocked its head. He couldn’t see their eyes, but he felt their burning gaze as they pondered the question.
“The pain of others becomes mine own.” They rasped. “The lights of the city dim as rotten wealth clogs mine veins. Magicks long forgotten have eaten mine skins, pulled mine cloak, and darkened mine skies. Helios has refused to grace mine doorstep, and the seasons of the Earth have revoked their kindness.”
Danny held his breath. It felt like he was the one with the exposed core, not the spirit.
The spirit shivered once more. “Tell mine soul, little lamb. How could this Forsaken City know peace, when it was long since ripped from mine hands?”
Shit, he needed Frostbite. And maybe Clockwork. Now.
-Or-
Danny meets the spirit of Gotham City. The villains and rogues that have plagued the city for decades are literal curses that are taking quite the toll on Gotham, and honestly, Danny isn’t sure how much longer they can hold out. The heroes seem to be doing some help, and are probably the reason Gotham made it this far, but the poor city needs help from the Realms if they want to get better.
Luckily, Danny can provide that help.
But only if he could get Gotham to leave their city behind. Because recovery is going to take a very long time.
#dpxdc#pondhead blurbs#Gotham is very lanky and tall and had dozens of necklaces around their neck#the necklaces are just cords filled with lost things the citizens have lost over the years#like bits of glass or wedding rings or hag stones made from a destroyed gargoyle#actually I have a weird picture of Gotham in my head I might draw it#it’s giving Bloodborne to me but idgaf#basically Danny meets Gotham and is trying to convince them to go with him for medical help because what the fuck#those curses are the equivalent of leaving hundreds of leeches stuck to your body for ten years#Danny is BEGGING Gotham to come with him#there’s potential for angst but if you want crack then Danny probably replaces Gotham#I think there’s already a similar fic where he becomes the new spirit of Gotham but I haven’t read all of that#anyways the Batfam are like#invasive animals that are actually helping the ecosystem recover from an even WORSE invasive species#but they aren’t supernatural heroes and they don’t understand that the issue is deeper#I’m calling this the Curse of Hope because Danny is offering hope to Gotham#but Gotham is just so tired and sick and hurt that they don’t want to risk it#they think Danny is another curse come to plague them#should he just straight up adopt the city at this point?#idk it probably depends on how it’s written#sad course is to let Gotham die. happy ending is where they are treated and returned#crack ending probably has Danny adopting the city and introducing them to his own city spirit Amity Park#oh shit is that a new ship#guys please I can’t keep doing this#Gotham City x Amity Park#how the fuck do you come up with a name for that#Burger Joints?#Wet Pavement?#bro idk I’m putting this down before I make something I might regret#low key wanna write this but like. I have so much to do
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pinkiebieberpie · 1 year
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DATING DEAN WINCHESTER:
- he may not seem like it, but he is the biggest fan of cuddling,
- dean loves doing research with you, mostly because it always comes with lots of kisses,
- he is always touching you, he adores little, gentle and innocent touches,
- he also loves playing with your hair,
- and let's be honest he loves when you are playing with his hair; his head on your lap, just relaxing and you touching his hair, that's heaven for him,
- long car rides in the middle of the night!! talking about anything and everything, eating burgers at midnight, enjoying your time together,
- also making out in the impala ALL THE TIME; you sitting on top of dean, his hands on your ass, and of course it can get steamy,
- he loves cooking with you, when you two are alone in the bunker you always do that with a music, so you can sing and dance in the kitchen,
- dean is melting when you are on top of him during sex, he's a sub, but that doesn't mean he can't be more dominant,
- he just needs to be close to you, touching your hands, putting them above your head when he is the one making you feel good,
- this man loves taking photos of you: when you are doing chores around the bunker, when you are doing research, when you are reading, sleeping, when you are doing anything really,
- he also has a polaroid of you in his wallet,
- taking photos with you naked in bed after sex? yes.
- i was talking about cooking, but can you imagine baking with him?? "babe, can we make a pie?", "dean, again??", "i love pies and i love baking with you 😇😇" he's just a big, adorable baby sometimes,
- dean is an overprotective boyfriend even though you can take care of yourself,
- you are the one always winning rock-paper-scissors with him,
- he loves when you are wearing his clothes, especially when you are sleeping in his shirts,
- lazy mornings with him = breakfast in bed and big cups of coffee;
supernatural masterlist ++ tagging my sun @fleurfairie ☀️
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natti-ice · 2 months
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Night Moves- Dean Winchester.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x gn!reader
Warnings: mentions of eating, established relationship, based on the song “night moves” by Bob Sager
Author’s note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!
Reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated<3
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You sat in the passenger seat of the impala humming along to the song on the radio, you hadn't heard it in a while so you forgot how much you liked it. You mindlessly stared off into the dark trees on the almost abandoned highway, remembering the first time you ever heard this song. 
You were abruptly brought out of your daydream when the song changed which was weird because there were at least 2 minutes left. 
"Hey, I was listening to that" you said turning your attention to your boyfriend in the driver seat. 
"Really?" Dean questioned "Why?"
"Because I like the song, Bob Sager is a legend." You replied
"Yeah obviously, but out of all songs, 'night moves' is your favorite?" He said with a light chuckle, lowering the volume of 'ramble on' that replaced Sager. 
"Yes, actually it is" you were ready to defend this song with your life "Is that a problem?" You incited
This was a common occurrence throughout the course of your relationship, you never argued about anything serious but when it came to music all cards are on the table. There were just certain things about music you couldn't agree on, sometimes the bickering would go on for days before you two would eventually kiss and make up. 
You knew this song was different though, but he didn't. He didn't know the significance of this song but you were going to change that before this went too far, it already continued into the diner where you two were having your weekly date night. 
By now the whole conversation has become about how Led Zeppelin is unappreciated, somehow all music conversations lead to Led Zeppelin. You waited for Dean to finish his second piece of pie so you'd know you'll have his full attention. 
"Do you really not know why I like the song so much?" You questioned hoping maybe he'd remember. He shook his head no, you sighed. "The night you first said you loved me, it was playing in the background" You explained
Dean's eyes went wider than you'd ever seen, all the memories of that night flooded his brain, the bar, the smell, the atmosphere, what he was wearing, what you were wearing, he remembered it all so how did he forget this one detail?
"That's right!" he shouted grabbing the attention of the only other customer and the waitress, "some drunk guy yelled out 'this is my jam!' across the bar right before I said it. I'm so sorry, I completely forgot" there was regret in his voice but fondness in his eyes. That was the best night of Dean's life. 
"Now you can see why I like it so much, it reminds me of us." You smiled at him
He smiled back, "Yeah, still a shit song" he shrugged then dodged the balled-up napkin you threw at him.
-
Eventually, you both started making your way back to the Impala, you walked out of the diner hand in hand. Right before you made it to the car you heard it…
"Workin' on our night moves, trying to lose the awkward teenage blues"  Dean sang under his breath. You immediately stopped in your tracks, causing him to do the same. He sighed before looking over at you, he knew he wasn't going to hear the end of this.
You raised your eyebrows at him, a big grin slapped across your face
"Shut up" he rolled his eye, a smile pulling at his lips
You smiled, leaned over and pecked his cheek, then whispered in his ear "I don't think I will."
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dilfth1rster · 20 days
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I was wondering if you could do some smutty head cannons about Dean Winchester
Hi anon this is my first head canon like this, hope you enjoy it and if you want to further explore it, you know where to send me a request:)
Let's start with Dean is definitely a kinkyyyy himbo...
He's very dirty minded, any conversation that sparks as something a little sexual is like poking a bear with a stick. You never know what can trigger him.
I surely see him as both a dom and sub depending on a situation and or his mood. He doesn't see gender and would fuck anyone.
Nice chick in shorts a little too revealing? ... Yeah he would definitely try to hit that.
An older guy that gets a little too touchy after a couple of beers? Dean, umm- WOULD!
As of what he's into, it's a damn wide spectrum.
Starting with dress up... He loves that damn wild west cowboy shit. He loves getting in his cowboy boots and hat and a fringy jacket which also activates a dominant confident side in him.
He loves dominating and being dominated.
VERYYYY verbal whether it be about how nicely his big cock slides into you or how he degrades you and calls you his dirty cumwhore OR- how he pants in your ear while ramming into your ass with a speed of lightning.
He can NEVER decline a blowjob, he loves that shit. With him, it's more of a deepthroat or a "skullfuck" because he'd be holding you down on his wide 7 inches till u smelled the musky trimmed bush of his and later on definitely got lightheaded...
While I already mentioned his musk, I must add that his usual body smell is sweat mixed with a strong woodsy cologne and "leftover" whisky.
Dean appreciates when a lady shaves down there but he's a wild one for a hairy cunt as well as a bushy, hairy guy.
Loves high heels and "girly" accessories especially pink ones.
Is not scared nor intimidated by being called or referring to himself as Daddy.
Knows you're obsessed with his hands and loves helping you get wet by putting his chubby fingers in your mouth/throat.
DEAN WINCHESTER LOVES RISKY/OUTDOOR SEX!!!!!!! (includes public places such as dirty bar restroom which leads me to another thing that is...)
Unprotected sex. He's not friends with condoms, loves breeding you, and seeing his cum ooze out of you... and he CUMS A LOT.
He also loves getting bred by older guys(daddy issues I guess).
If you're okay with it:
He's definitely into watersports. Would love to piss on you, in his words "mark" you as his and degrade you.
Slap and choke you around(a little manhandling never hurt nobody huh?)
Make you worship his boots as a sign of your ultimate submission.
(let me include an image because it's getting hot in here...)
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If it's longer than a one night stand he'd definitely want to cuckold you and make you watch as he breeds and destroys another young chick he met at the bar and brought to the motel room. Maybe if you're nice enough and behave he'll let you lick the juices off his cock after?
This man got a thing for piercings, belly button one that pops out from under your top, lip piercing or ESPECIALLY tongue and tits pierced... GOD DAMN!
Sex with him is usually fast paced(I say usually because from time to time it's not fast, IT'S DAMN RAPID)
SO... CUM-
we estabilished that mans got a breeding kink but well- Dean also loves cumming in your mouth and watching you swallow his sweet, chunky load, as well as painting your whole face in his seed.
If he's titty-fucking you he can explode directly on them.
If he's with a guy he enjoys getting bred and getting his face painted.
OH AND I ALMOST FORGOT-
This guy is a goddamn foodie, he loves to eat his sweet treats like the well known pie and such... he also loves to incorporate that into sex...
making you eat the pie he just came on or stuffing pieces of it into your pussy and eating you and IT out :)
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Well- I think that's it for now. I'd love to further explore some of the aspect with you all, so if you got any questions or ideas, write away in the requests in my bio :)
(I'm a new writer so if you could like and reshare or leave a comment with your thoughts I'd really appreciate that)
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eternalslover · 8 months
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I got this gif off of pinterest and it's my absolute favorite thing ever
HES SO CUTE OMG
That's my hand BTW! (I'm delusional)
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heartfullofleeches · 7 months
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Ichabod's (shirtless reaper lady) darling is seperate from the supernatural harem's darling, but it'd be funny if after like a thousand years of not seeing each other she bursts in on Maddox's new life to see what her baby "sibling" is up to and falls for their human. Her interactions with Baron would be golden
-
[Baron storms into the living room seeing Ichabod's arms around his mate and Maddox looking defeated in a corner]
Baron: Hey Bitch!
[She looks up at him, annoyed]: What.
Baron: What do you identify as.
Ichabod: Ha?
Baron: Your gender! The fuck do you identify as?!
Ichabod: Obviously I'm a fuckin chick - why's it matter?
Baron: Cover your damn tits then!
Ichabod: I don't see you wearin' a damn thing. You think people want your baboon ass in their face everytime you walk by?
[Baron looks at his mate then back at Ichabod as if saying with his eyes "The fucking audacity of this woman"]
Baron: I AM A MAN. IT'S DIFFERENT
Ichabod: How?
Baron: ye- Y/n, tell her. Y/n?
[Supernatural Harem darling slips out the front door holding Maddox's hand as Alasdair walks in with groceries]
Alasdair: Great. There's two of them.
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mirkwoodshewolf · 1 year
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Oh yay, I love your writing btw!! Could I request Jack Kline discovering that he absolutely LOVES it when reader gives him hickeys?? And after the first time he just keeps asking for them bc he always wants a few on him at all times to remind him of you. Thank you!!!!
Okay first of all anon thank you for the kind words :) so glad you love my writing. And Jack plus hickies hmm.....let's see what we can come up with for this little HC.
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Okay so Jack and hickies, let us begin!
At first, and obviously being new to this whole human intimacy, Jack never really understood why he would see some bite marks on people's necks.
Bless him at first he thought they had been attacked by vampires but managed to escape before they took the first bite.
But after going to you, his partner, you explain to him that those are not bites from a monster, but bite marks from their spouses called hickies.
"So hickies are.......a sign of affection?" he questions.
"They can be. Sometimes people like to mark their partners as theirs."
"Like a possession? But I thought humans weren't things?"
"No, well that really depends on the whole kinky thing depending on the relationship. To be honest babe, it gets complicated if I try to explain it. The point is, hickies are just really deep kisses and soft bites people do to their partners as a sign of affection."
"Will you give me one?" he asks after a moment of silence.
"You--you want a hickey?" you ask.
"I'd like to know what they feel like. We love each other, right?"
"Yes, absolutely. Only if you're sure."
"I am. So what do we do first?"
He was ready to get straight to business. It was both funny and kinda cute, especially when he gave you that adorable smile of his.
So you begin with a simple make out session. Cupping his face in your hands before finally separating your lips from his.
You then tilt his neck to the side.
"Now just relax, and enjoy it. But if I'm too rough or it hurts too much, just let me know okay?" you say to him. he nods.
It first begins with you kissing his cheek before slowly going down towards his neck.
You hear him let out a gasp as your lips began their path down his neck before stopping midway down his neck.
His body slightly tenses up so you stop and ask him.
"Should I stop?"
"No!" he says urgently. "No don't stop it--it felt......good."
So you continue. With a few kisses just around the spot before giving him a small bite to his neck.
Suddenly a lightbulb explodes from one of the lamps at Jack's bedside which startles you.
You turn to see Jack's eyes glowing gold.
"Sorry." he apologizes. His eyes turn back to normal and you say.
"It's fine. Just didn't expect that. Should we go on or is it too much?"
"I'm enjoying it. Maybe a bit too much. I'll try to not use my powers, I promise." he says as he brings you back chest to chest.
You resume your position and give him another love bite before lightly sucking on the skin of his neck.
He breathless gasps and soft moans are music to your ears as he even tightens his grip on your waist.
After finishing off with a couple of licks of your tongue to ease the stinging sensation, you separate.
"When do the marks show up? How long do they take to form?" he asks.
"Well that depends. I didn't want to go too extreme but I know there's definitely a bitemark there." you then watch as he goes over to his bathroom mirror and observe his new mark.
And he waits, and waits, and waits.
That boy does not move a muscle from his bathroom. Soon enough you got tired and fell right to sleep on his bed.
"Baby! Baby! Sweetheart wake up! Wake up! It came!" you open your eyes to see Jack turning his neck to you and there you saw it.
A light purple bruise from where you had made his first hickey.
"Yep, there it is babe." you say tiredly.
"I love it. Do you think you can give me another one?" he asks excitedly.
You turn to see it's around 2:45 in the morning.
"I'll give you one when the sun's up, now can I go back to sleep?"
"Right sorry. Sleep my love. And thank you for my new prize." you didn't really hear much after he told you to go to sleep.
After that, Jack proudly shows off his hickeys to everyone and all.
In fact there are times he demands more hickeys even when one side of his neck is completely covered with them.
He gets a bit hickey crazy until you tell him that there needs to be a time for healing before any mote hickies can be given.
Of course he pouts because he just loves showing the world your love for one another.
But he allows his current hickies to heal and will just take the normal make out sessions you guys will do every now and then.
There is one time when he tries to return the favor by giving you a hickey.
But he didn't quite understand how the love bite works and accidentally bit you too hard.
Bless the boy he felt so bad, he first healed you of the bite mark and vowed he'd never do it again while frantically apologizing for his mistake.
You calmed him down and said all was good and that you didn't blame him.
In conclusion, Jack Kline loves receiving hickies from his beloved and will wear them like badges of honor. And he doesn't care who stares or Dean's comments of him being 'whipped'.
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Chapter 3
Summary: Bucky and Y/n are in arranged marriage. Bucky is having an affair. This is all it is about... Let's see where Y/n's fate lies... Should we?
Pairings: Bucky x reader, Bucky x Dot, reader x Dean Winchester
Genre: angst, affair, unrequited love, blurb
Illicit Affairs
chapter 1 chapter 2
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5 months later after Dot and Bucky's meeting (i.e. 3 months earlier)
Dot's POV
Taking a deep breath, I enter the restaurant with a gentle smile, scrolling through my phone to check for any messages. Spotting Bucky at a table, looking out the window, I smile and walk up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder to make my presence known.
He jumps a little at the sudden touch, turning to see me, a breath of relief escaping him. "Oh. It's you…haha yeah, it's you," he says, his tone a mix of surprise and nervousness. Ignoring his initial reaction, I reply with a smile, "Yes, of course, it's me—on our date, whom you were expecting." I tease him playfully, and he chuckles, shaking his head. "No, no… nothing… Yes, you are right, my bad, doll."
As Bucky chuckles at my teasing remark, I decide to add a bit more to lighten the mood.
"You know, for a moment there, I thought I might have been replaced by a secret agent or something. I mean, the way you reacted, I half-expected you to say, 'The eagle has landed, mission accomplished,'" I quip, a playful glint in my eyes.
Bucky bursts into a genuine laugh, his earlier tension dissipating. "Well, you caught me off guard. Next time, I'll try to keep my spy skills in check," he jokes, raising an imaginary spy hat.
We share a laugh, the atmosphere lightening, and I take a seat across from him. The initial surprise forgotten, we settle into the easy rhythm of a date, enjoying each other's company amidst the cozy ambiance of the restaurant.
In the midst of our date, he excuses himself for a bathroom break, and as I patiently wait, a soft glow emanates from his phone. Intrigued unintentionally, I glance at the screen, revealing 24 unread messages from someone labeled 'wife.' The weight of that word hits me like an unexpected storm, and my breath catches. I double-check, my eyes fixated on the screen, and time seems to come to a standstill. Emotions surge within me—a tumultuous blend of confusion, heartache, and an unfamiliar ache that words struggle to define. It's an unusual feeling, foreign yet poignant, as the realization dawns that I might have merely been a fleeting moment in the tapestry of his life that he shred.
As he returns from the bathroom, I attempt to hide the inner turmoil, plastering a smile on my face. The weight of the discovered messages lingers, creating an invisible barrier between us. We resume our conversation, but my mind is a filled of thoughts, swirling with unspoken questions. The restaurant buzzes around us, but something's off.
As the evening unfolds, the once vibrant colors of our date now seem muted. There's a feeling like things were messed up—the threads of his life kind of tangled. Silence wraps around us, punctuated by the clinking of cutlery and distant chatter. The air between us gets heavy, and we sit in quiet, the noise of the place highlighting the unspoken things hanging there.
"Are you okay?" His hand on mine grounds me, but I'm lost in a whirlwind of uncertainty. I nod quietly, my lips parting, struggling to find words to calm the chaos within.
Questions torment me—confront or ignore? Logic demands answers, but my heart quivers at the thought of the truth. I stare at him, silently pleading for reassurance, as if hoping he'll unveil this as a prank, a figment of my imagination.
The unsettling image lingers, and with a heavy sigh, I unconsciously let out, loud enough for him to hear, "It's all a mess." Each word carries the weight of confusion, hurt, and a yearning for things to make sense again.
Days pass, the weight of the unanswered questions lingering between us. The air is thick with tension, and I find myself unable to carry the burden of uncertainty any longer.
One evening, as we sit in a quiet corner of the park, I gather the courage to break the silence. The golden hues of the setting sun cast a warm glow, yet my heart is heavy with the unspoken.
Taking a deep breath, I look into Bucky's eyes, searching for the truth I desperately need. "Bucky, there's something on my mind, and I can't keep pretending everything is okay. I saw those messages, the ones from your 'wife.' Can you please help me understand? I need to know what's happening."
The words hang in the air, and the park's serene ambiance contrasts with the storm brewing within me. His reaction, his response—everything is poised on the edge, waiting to unravel the tangled threads of our story.
"Bucky," I shake him gently, my voice trembling with fear and desperation. "Who's she? Are you married?" I ask again, louder this time, my hands shaking as I cling to the hope that it's all just a misunderstanding. "Tell me it's not true. TELL ME IT'S NOT WHAT I THINK IT IS!" I shout, unable to contain the rising panic and anguish within me.
My outburst attracts a few curious glances from passersby, but I try to regain control, taking a deep breath to steady myself as tears well up in my eyes.
"I… I need to go," I whisper, a quiet plea to escape the unbearable truth. As I make to leave, I see the disbelief in Bucky's eyes, his shaky breath betraying his inner turmoil. His silent plea begs me to stay, to listen, but I can't bear to look at him any longer. Disappointment floods me as I meet his gaze, shaking my head in silent reproach. Closing my eyes, I let a few tears slip down my cheeks before gathering my purse and walking away, leaving him alone at the table.
After reaching home, I close the door behind me, leaning against it as tears cascade down my cheeks, finally allowing myself to release the flood of emotions I've been holding back.
"I trusted him," I whisper to myself, the words heavy with betrayal and disbelief. I sink to the floor, clutching my legs to my chest, burying my face in my hands as I cry. Each sob feels like a dagger to my heart, a painful reminder of the shattered trust and broken dreams.
As the minutes pass, I cry like a child, the weight of my heartache crushing me. I curse myself for being so foolish, for letting my guard down and allowing myself to love so deeply. Bright colors of hope and happiness that once filled my heart now seem distant and faded, replaced by a darkness that threatens to consume me once more.
The pain is unbearable, a relentless ache that pierces through every fibre of my being. I feel lost and alone, abandoned by the one person I thought was my safe haven. It hurts—oh, how it hurts—more than I ever thought possible.
"I gave it my all, and he gave me nothin' at all," I murmur to myself, the words heavy with resignation and sorrow. In the quiet solitude of my home, surrounded by the echoes of my own pain, I confront the harsh reality of unrequited love. Despite pouring my heart and soul into the relationship, it feels like I've received nothing in return but heartache and disappointment. It's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that I gave everything I had to someone who couldn't—or wouldn't—meet me halfway.
The days stretched on, each one a painful reminder of the shattered pieces of my heart. I bury myself in work, in hobbies—anything to distract myself from the gaping void left by Bucky's betrayal. But no matter how busy I kept myself, his absence lingered like a haunting shadow.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the world outside grew still, there comes a hesitant knock at my door. My heart skipped a beat as I approached, uncertainty mingling with a flicker of hope.
Opening the door, I am met with the sight of Bucky, his usual confident demeanour replaced by an uncharacteristic vulnerability. "Can we talk?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with regret.
Part of me wanted to slam the door shut, to shut him out like he had shut me out. But another part—a part that still holds onto the memories of love and laughter—couldn't turn him away.
I nod silently, stepping aside to let him in. We sit in awkward silence for a moment, the weight of our unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.
"I'm sorry," he finally whispers, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I messed up. I never meant to hurt you."
His words stir something inside me—anger, hurt, but also a lingering spark of longing. Against my better judgment, I find myself drawn to him, the magnetic pull between us undeniable.
Before I can stop myself, I close the distance between us, my hand reaching out to touch his cheek. Our eyes meet, and in that moment, the floodgates of desire open, the tension crackling between us like electricity.
One kiss leads to another, and soon we are lost in a hunger that had been brewing quietly. Clothes fell away, our inhibitions tossed aside as we surrendered to the primal longing that surged within us.
In the heat of the moment, all thoughts of pain and betrayal melted away, replaced by the intoxicating rush of passion and desire. We collapse into each other's arms, spent and breathless, even though I know it is wrong, even though he has a wife.
Soon I find myself entangled in an illicit affair.
Make sure nobody sees you leave
Hood over your head, keep your eyes down
Tell your friends you're out for a run
You'll be flushed when you return
Take the road less traveled by
Tell yourself you can always stop
What started in beautiful rooms
Ends with meetings in parking lots
And that's the thing about illicit affairs
And clandestine meetings and longing stares
It's born from just one single glance
But it dies, and it dies, and it dies
A million little times
Leave the perfume on the shelf
That you picked out just for him
So you leave no trace behind
Like you don't even exist
Take the words for what they are
A dwindling, mercurial high
A drug that only worked
The first few hundred times
And that's the thing about illicit affairs
And clandestine meetings and stolen stares
They show their truth one single time
But they lie, and they lie, and they lie
A million little times
And you wanna scream
Don't call me "kid"
Don't call me "baby"
Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me
You showed me colors
You know I can't see with anyone else
Don't call me "kid"
Don't call me "baby"
Look at this idiotic fool that you made me
You taught me a secret language
I can't speak with anyone else
And you know damn well
For you, I would ruin myself
A million little times
Note: Hey guys! Hope you like it. English is actually my second language so if there's any mistake you can inform me by messaging me privately. And PLEASE REBLOG AND DON'T STEAL MY WORK. Please like and comment too so, that I can know your views. Thank you for reading guys! Have a nice day and please comment if you wanna be tagged in.
Taglist: @angstysebfan @cjand10@learisa @themorningsunshine @binkszamsstuff
@dreamerglassesgirl @winterslove1917 @perfectpieslimeprune@nikkivillar @bethexo07 @vicmc624 @pattiemac1 @ozwriterchick @rqse-writes @mega-kittyglitter-1
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whorefordean · 7 months
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⛧ supernatural masterlist ⛧
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* indicates smut - mdni
dean winchester
four months
is this love
space for you
learn to let me go
not god*
to hell and back
to soothe your pain
one more*
ghost of you
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pinkiebieberpie · 9 months
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i like shiny things, but i'd marry you with paper rings ୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮
supernatural masterlist
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inthemytdl · 9 months
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Somewhere Only We Know
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“Is it okay if I sit here?”
The whirl of wind trumped the gentle voice of the boy beside you. He wore a letterman jacket. A yellow hue reflected off its stripes from the street light next to the bus stop.
“What?”
“Oh, sorry.” He raised a jazz hand. “I’m Jack. I’ve noticed people here like to claim benches. Is it okay if we share?”
You shrugged then scooched over. Your phone lit up with the time as you moved. The bus would arrive soon. After that was one long trip to nowhere. You’d figure it out on the way there. That was part of the adventure.
“Where are you going?” Jack’s cheerful voice startled you.
You rubbed cold arms. “Nowhere.”
“Right. You don’t know me.” He faced you, lowered his head. “I promise I’m not a serial killer.”
“Didn’t think so.” You studied him for a lingering moment. He looked too young to be some psycho killer but was lanky enough you could beat him in a fight if he was. “Where are you going?”
“I don't know.” He tilted his head toward the sky. “Wherever the bus takes me?”
“Nebraska.”
“There. I’m going there.” Jack smiled, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him Nebraska was just… Nebraska. “Are you cold? Here. Have my jacket.”
“What? No.” You swatted his hand away.
“It’s fine,” Jack said. “I don’t get cold.” He placed his jacket on your shoulders then returned to his dreamy state, practically drooling. 
You were staring at him now, but he didn’t seem to mind. The gap between his teeth broke through his smile; his bright eyes lit up in the street light, the yellow hue reflecting off his irises now. He had this innocent look, like all the pain and despair of the world couldn’t hurt him. Not now, at least. Right now, all that mattered was Nebraska.
“I’m running away,” you blurted. “Sort’ve.”
Jack’s smile broke. “Why would you do that?”
“Well, it’s not running, really. I’m old enough to take care of myself. I’m just going on an… adventure.”
“I like adventures.” His smile was back. That gap in between his teeth. 
The bus parked in front of you. It was empty, aside from a few scattered passengers. The doors opened. The driver made eye contact.
“Do you want to go on an adventure with me, Jack?” you asked.
He pressed a thumb on the dip of his chin. His hair blew into his face. “I’m not sure,” he said.
A pin dropped in your stomach. You spent five minutes talking and jumped straight to fifth base: asking him to travel with you. You didn’t even know him, really. He could’ve been a serial killer, a really nice one. And if he wasn’t, he must’ve thought you were weird now.
Jack inhaled a swift breath and released it with a sigh. “Are you a serial killer?” he asked.
“What?” you laughed. “No, of course not. I’m Y/n.”
“Then yes. I would like to go on an adventure with you, Y/n.” He pushed up from the bench and that lulling smile on his face met yours.
A warm heat encompassed you as you stepped onto the bus. Jack took the cushioned seat next to the window and looked out at the night sky. You took the aisle seat.
The bus shook as the engine rumbled to life. You were going to Nebraska. The land of farms, corn, prairies, and the occasional city. You could picture it now—the petrichor smell of wet grain, the bright lights illuminating cities—and while you weren’t sure if you’d stay, you were ready for your next adventure. And happy it wouldn’t be alone.
Jack traced a smiley onto the condensated window glass before relaxing into his seat. "I've never been on a bus before," he said.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”
Trees flew by as the bus began to move and you became more comfortable with Jack. You had only just met him but traveling together felt right. And you weren’t sure what he was leaving behind, but were glad to have him by your side.
You took Jack’s hand in yours, startling him a bit, and said, “Next stop, Nebraska.”
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munsonshire · 3 months
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Sleepless nights with Cas
Pairing: Castiel x reader (gender neutral) To be honest I consider Cas Gender Neutral for all that that they are an angel and technically angels have no gender, you know. But for this, as Cas is in Jimmy's body imma use he/him pronouns. Warnings: none Masterlist
Although Castiel doesn’t require sleep, he is still very sympathetic when you suffer from a bout of insomnia.During one of your many -emphasis on many- sleepless nights, Cas flutters to your side, and instantaneously kicks off his shoes before laying his warm trench coat over your shoulders.
Knowing that you are soothed by his minty scent, the angel climbs beside you in bed, and pulls you to snuggle into his firm chest.
He comforts you, speaking calmly in enochian, before protectively cocooning his feathered, onyx wings around your body.
You vocalize your wishes to repay the favor, knowing full well that you may never get the opportunity; however, Cas just chuckles, leaning down to nuzzle his nose into your hair.
“I am your guardian angel, pure and bright. I will protect you as you sleep tonight.” he would begin, reciting a poem that he had memorized specifically for these frequent occasions. “I love you, [Y/N]. Sleep well.”
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babydollfoster · 10 months
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First Date with Team Free Will
a/n: i honest to god don’t think i’ve posted a fic on here despite how much i talk about it >_<!! so here’s somethin i threw together in the span of a couple of hours because i’m on a rewatch and i’m halfway thru s4 and i LOVE the boys:( so here! proof i can write, not just talk about it! also afaik you can read this as any gender :) fem, masc, neither, both… don’t think there’s any defining qualities. much love!
pairings: sam winchester/reader, dean winchester/reader, castiel/reader
warnings: fluff, implied sexual content (w/ dean)
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SAM
he’s SUCH a romantic. god, look at him, just- when he asked you, so sweet ‘nd kind, if he could take you out some night, how could you say no? dean gives his blessing by handing over the impala’s keys the next day and you and sam end up at a secondhand bookstore. you judge books by their covers and eventually settle on swapping something you enjoyed for the other’s; sam slips you a book called their eyes were watching god (“don’t- don’t give me that look. the title isn’t ‘cringe’! it’s beautiful. i promise you’ll enjoy it.”) and you hand rebecca over with a beaming grin, which falls into a look of surprise when you learn he hasn’t read it (“it’s a classic! how- okay, it’s a slow start, but you’ll love it.”) you grab takeout (your pick, sam insisted) and end up at a park, rolling a dusty picnic blanket out from the depths of the trunk and sitting under a tree, swapping quips and comments every once in a while. eventually, you end up with your head in sam’s lap and his hand in your hair, neither of you paying attention to your books no more, no, now you’re just… talking. it’s domestic and loving and romantic so you sit up, weasel your way into sammy’s lap and kiss him so delicately and he does the same back until you’re both almost devouring each other, literally stealing the other’s breath until you pull away, panting and giggling until sam whispers, “can we do this again?” and you whisper “every single day, sam.”
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DEAN — MDNI, 16+
he sticks to the classics. he takes you out for dinner at the nearest diner and a midnight showing of whatever horror movie is out right now. you share a bucket of popcorn as you’re snuggled in the back right corner, cackling at cheesy jumpscares (“oh, i’m sooo scared.” “shut up, dee!”) and dry fake screams before you stumble back into baby after having smuggled in a flask of whiskey and collapse into the front bench, still too buzzed to drive, and kiss each other until your heads spin and the stars blur into one. eventually you pull away long enough for dean to drive you to the motel and you collapse into bed together; nothing happens, no, not on his first date with you. he wants to treat you right, sweetheart, but you’re both stripped down to your underwear nonetheless and hold each other close like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. the next morning, on the other hand, once the headache has set in and you’re oh so beautiful in the morning light, dean settles himself between your legs and noses your thighs apart. who are you to say no when dean’s right there and ready, huh?
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CASTIEL
cas hasn’t ‘dated’, not on earth, certainly not in heaven, but he rifled through his host’s distant memories and took some inspiration from when jimmy courted amelia. so when cas slips his hands into yours one darkened evening, standing on the sidewalk in light rain, and asks if he ‘could take you out sometime’, you smirk and say, “how’d you learn that one?” but you agree nonetheless, and let the angel take the reigns. he whisks you away, dropping a message to sam and dean that you’re both in california and will be for the next three days and not to worry, he’ll bring you back unharmed (the boys freak, but you both ignore their calls). he takes you window-shopping, you eat at famous spots in LA and spend a little too much money, you sit atop the hollywood sign and learn the constellations, you teach cas how to have fun late one night at the beach and when you’re both breathless, backs covered in sand as you stare up at the heavens, he turns his head to you and asks, “may i kiss you?” and you whisper, “i thought you’d never ask.” and sure, he’s a little clueless, but he’s confident in how he has the rest of forever to learn how to please you, the way a human would.
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taglist: no one yet! ask away :)
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