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luna-writes-stuff · 11 months

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As Long As It’s Not About Love, Dean Winchester

Song link

Fanfic, gn! reader

Fluff

Word count: 2141

Tw: Brief mentions of injuries/blood, spoilers for all SPN seasons, you get a dog (no excuses). Dean struggles to say ‘I love you’. Some pining, but it’s all resolved. This was written in an hour and you can tell.

Summary: The three times Dean wants to say the L-word, but he can’t. And the one time he does.

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“From the first time we touched with our eyes Only magic could take away my heart. I am always afraid for my heart.”

For as long as you’d known Dean, you knew he could never say the L-word. You had known this when you became friends and you had known this when you became a couple. It never seemed to bother you. Friends around you had thrown it around like a casual thing, but Dean seemed to attach more meaning than most to that word. He never outwardly discussed it with you, but you knew it bothered him at times. It never bothered you, though. No matter how long the two of you had been dating, you found peace with his reluctance.

Dean, however, did not. He loved you - he knew he did, which was exactly why it bothered him so much. If his feelings told him one thing, but his mouth couldn’t voice it, where would that leave him?

He had tried to tell you. Many, many times. But there was always something, or someone that would interfere. More often than not, that was his own conscious.

“So lay beside me now and tell me lies, sweet lies. As long as it's not about love.”

The first time he almost said it, had been a sheer moment of fear. Hunting halfgods sometimes appeared to be more challenging than you were originally led to believe. He and Sam had sprung the perfect trap: you and Dean would serve as easy bait as Sam would try to sneak from behind. But plans always worked better in theory.

The god had been aware of your scheme, and had set his very own trap, leaving Sam unconscious on the floor the second he had opened the back door. Neither you nor Dean had enough time to react before you were both on the floor.

When you awoke, all three of you had been tied to a chair, your wrists bound tightly together, almost restricting the blood flow. Dean remembered all too well how he had felt that day. The halfgod had loomed over your figure, taunting and threatening you, almost enjoying the way the Winchesters reacted.

From the back of your chair, you managed to clumsily reach Dean’s hand, clinging to it tightly. When he felt it shake within his own, he would have whispered any words to comfort you, but there hadn’t been much else he could besides show the same stone cold expression, not daring to let the god know he had been pushing all the right buttons.

“Shall we sail off the edge of the world? Fall forever and never look behind. But I must keep my heart from my mind.”

It was when you finally returned to the motel after slaying him, that reality began to dawn upon him. You had been frightened that day - mortified. And there was nothing either of you could do besides watching it happen.

When it took you longer than usual to get out of the bathroom, he had entered the room and found you upon the floor, your head in your hands as you silently wept out all the left-over stress. He had sat down on the floor beside you, not saying anything. His arms wrapped around you as he forced you into his hold, his embrace grounding you as you found yourself slowly coming back down to Earth.

The blood on his shirt was a rude interruption to your eyes. Where calmness had finally begun to settle in, you now found yourself reliving it again. Your sobs grew harder again as Dean began to gently shush you, his fingers tracing figures on your back.

Mumbles of desperation escaped you without full context, and - though he had no idea what you were saying - Dean knew you were trying to make everything make sense in your head. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” He muttered into your hair. “I…” His breath hitched slightly, a dawning feeling settling in his stomach.

He couldn’t do it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Lay beside me now and tell me lies. As long as it's not about love.”

The second time was after Dean came back from the post-apocalyptic dimension. You had stayed behind with Rowena, watching over Lucifer. Rowena had insisted she didn’t need the help, but Dean would rather have you safe in the bunker than possibly stuck in a world where angels ran haywire.

When Lucifer had shown up on the other side of the portal, his blood had almost run cold. First, he lost Sam - who eventually came back -, then Lucifer would be terrorising Jack, and to top it all off, the devil loved to boast about how terrified you were of him.

In truth, you had kept yourself standing for quite a while. You had almost gained his respect for it. But you were still a mortal, and you stood no chance against an archangel. Not even a fallen, half-fuelled one. Not when he was pissed.

Rowena had cast him out before he could deal any severe damage, so the words he had spoken to Dean had been nowhere close to the truth. He hadn’t gutted you, tortured you or put your head on a spike. Dean hadn’t truly believed all of his words either, but they chilled him to his core nonetheless. There was no easy way to check up on you; nothing would soothe him but perhaps his own mind. And it caused a terrible distraction to him in the whole escaping plan.

“Oh, the last time we touched with our eyes And the magic was stronger than the heart. Oh, I can't run away with my heart.”

When Dean finally resurfaced, he was met with your bloodied face, a hasty plaster just beneath your left eye. Confusion was evident on your face, but he dismissed it. The people behind him could be introduced later.

His bag immediately fell to the floor, a heavy sigh escaping him as he walked towards you in three long strides. His arms wrapped around you tightly, squeezing your back as his head fell in the crook of your neck.

“You’re safe,” He uttered, swallowing down the urge to let out a choked cry. “You’re alright.” His hands rose to your cheeks as you parted, his eyes staring into yours with relief. A comforting kiss was placed upon your lips as he revelled in the feeling of your warm hands covering his. You were alive - you were well.

“I…” Again, that dreadful feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. Your eyes showed empathy; you knew. He didn’t have to say it. He wanted to. He just couldn’t.

“I missed you so much.”

“So lay beside me now and tell me lies. As long as they're not about love.”

The third time was during Chuck’s impending doom situation. Worlds had already been destroyed, and you knew it was just a waiting game now until yours would be next. You had lived through apocalypses, dimensions and times, but impending doom had been your worst experience thus far. There was nothing you could do to stop it. Sam and Dean were adamant and stubborn, always ready to fight, but even now they began to see that perhaps, this truly had been the end.

“So, what’s next?” Sam sighed, multiple papers strewn on the table in front of him. You and Dean sat on the other side of him, a bored expression on both of your faces. “I hate to be the one to say this,” You sighed. “But I think acceptance is really all there is now.”

You felt Dean��s eyes turn to you. “Really?” “Yes, really, Dean.” You clarified. “We’re fighting God. We can’t win that one.” “We can’t just give up.” “Then, what do you suggest we do?” You shouted, all pent up frustration suddenly tumbling out. “Bring him a gift basket with a note ‘please, don’t kill us’? Maybe he’ll show some sympathy!” You rose from your seat, the chair falling on the floor behind you with your movement. “We’re going to die! The sooner we accept that, the better! Makes it a lot easier.” Though the last part was mumbled, you were sure the guys heard it too. You didn’t want them to respond to it. You turned around, heading out the library towards your room.

“Sweetheart, come on!” Dean called after you, also rising from his seat, but you had already disappeared. Sam cast him an apologetic glance. “Ah, save it.” His brother groaned, taking off after you.

“Shall we sail off the edge of the world Fall forever.”

A soft knock was heard on the door before the knob slowly turned. “Sweetheart?” “Leave it, Dean.” You groaned, curled up on the bed, which you had almost forgotten you shared. “No,” He answered, before the door closed. A moment of silence fell over the room before the bed slightly dipped behind you. A hand gently made its way to your shoulder, placing comfort there.

“How do you find any solace in all of this?” You muttered, hugging a pillow closer to you. “I don’t.” He answered honestly. “But we can’t afford to stop fighting. If I did, I would have been dead ten years ago.” “You were dead ten years ago.” You countered. A chuckle escaped him at your remark. You turned your head at the sound, showing him a faint smile.

“We’ll keep fighting,” He returned, his voice equally hushed. “Until we fall down. We don’t stop fighting until we stop breathing.” His hand lowered over your arm, finding your hand instead. As his fingers intertwined with yours, he gave you a pleading look: “Please, don’t stop fighting. If we can get five more days, I’d like to spend them with you.”

You let out a low scoff at that. Not in annoyance, but in agreement. You brought your hands up to your mouth, placing a light kiss on the back of Dean’s hand. “I love you, Dean.” You whispered against it, your eyes looking up to look into his. “You don’t have to say it back.”

“Take my heart away but, no You can't say words about love.”

When he finally managed to say it, he didn’t even think of it. Where he had once tried to find proper words for every situation, he had now come to accept things as they were.

When Jack had brought everything back, you and Dean decided to take off on your own. Sam wanted to leave the hunting life behind, and after everything the three of you had been through, you completely understood him. And to your surprise, so had Dean. Both of you had settled into a typical white fence house, the occasional demon traps hidden under doormats and salt lining every window. But besides that, you seemed to have found somewhat of a normal life.

Much to Dean’s demand, you had gotten a dog, caring for it as if it had been a child. Walks were always shared together, a great way for both of you to get some exercise without having to hunt everything that hadn’t seemed relatively normal.

“If the magic comes between us And we never meet again. Take a part of me away.”

And that was exactly how he had found himself in that situation. On a bench in a dog park, sitting directly next to you, your head on his shoulder. He never thought he’d find himself enjoying a simple life, but there he sat, watching his dog run with the others while both of you sat in blissful peace.

“I was thinking of going to that new steakhouse downtown tonight.” You mumbled, a faint smile on your face as you felt Dean’s shoulders shift slightly with his laughter. “Bought some pie for when we get home afterwards.”

“That sounds amazing,” He groaned. “Good,” You laughed, looking up at him. “Because I already made the reservation.” A fond smile crossed his face as he leaned his head against yours.

“God, I love you.”

Your body tensed simultaneously with his as his words were spoken. Lifting your head, you gave him a surprised look, unable to suppress the grin growing on your face. Dean copied your look, a low chuckle escaping him as he processed his words.

“I do,” He reassured. “I love you.” You laughed at that, your hands falling around his shoulders as you brought him in for a hug. “I love you.” He repeated between kisses placed on your collarbones. Then, he kept you at arms distance, unable to deny a second laugh. A firm kiss was placed upon your lips - one you gleefully returned. “I love you.” He spoke again, placing a second kiss on your forehead.

“God, I love you too, Dean Winchester.”

“'Cause maybe it's all about love, love.”

#november writings 2023 #spn #supernatural #dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Jensen ackles

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denim-devil · 1 year

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Dauntless | D.W

Summary - A close call has Dean asking questions, hoping to gain some clarity of the current situation, the flames ignite bringing the butterflies that had once lay dormant, to life.

Warnings - Soft!Dean, Alcohol, Smut, M x M, P in A, Spanking (slightly), Dom!Dean, Dirty talk, Mentions of a certain white liquid I-, Kissing, FLUFFY DEAN-

“Not Proof read- sorry”

Dean hasn’t realised.

How could he? With each swig of whiskey that trickled down his chest with a certain wanting warmth brought his thoughts into a swirling mess.

His eyes grew slacker by the minute, focusing on the way you laughed at his stupid mindless jokes. At first he thought it was because you had as much alcohol as him to succumb to the euphoria that closely followed but no…he saw the way you glanced, eyeing up his fully clothed form.

Dean tried to let it go, with each passing moment his focus grew shorter and shorter. Watching the older hunter shuffle in his seat, you had guessed the wooden structure left nothing but an aching numbness that chimed like church bells, one of his legs crossing over the other.

Unphased by the sudden bodily manoeuvre, you go back to sipping on the bronze liquid Dean happily shared between the two of you.

“So…what was that back there? Did you have a plan?” Dean rasped, plump lips lingering on the edge of the smooth glass, ridges of detailed shapes littering the outside, his fingers delicately gripping the cold object.

You shrugged allowing the liquid courage to take control, mind empty and your tongue dozily laying still in your mouth as if words themselves were hard to form.

The room fell in silence, the bunkers structure stuttering, disputing low rumbles, you had guessed it was the age of the frame, bricks beginning to fade with time, it was easy to lose focus, especially with experienced hunter sat closely next to you.

“No…”

It was clearly painted across your expressionless face, his eyebrow cocks as if confused but also curious. The whole ordeal in itself costed the use of your left shoulder for the next couple of days, the stiffness still lingered but with each sip of the beverage at hand left you feeling limp and unbothered.

He could see it, how the whiskey melded your new form as if it gave you the strength to hold your lips closed before letting something carless slip past and into the open, into Dean’s ears.

“No? Why do I not believe you?”

The questions at hand left you sinking into the rickety chairs of the library. Each passing moment ticked with time itself as if in every possible outcome it would leave you cold and trapped.

The sudden crumpling of his shirt, each wrinkle shadowed by the dim light above growing as he reached over, his hand settling above your own as if was ment to, attached to the skin of your open palm, fingers dancing along the heated skin.

“Tell me”

He ordered, his tone stern and deep, wanting to uncover the factor that had lead you into a certain type of doom and gloom.

At first you had tried gaining some sort of control, tying each and every word into a sentence worth while but with each passing second it proved harder. The truth was almost hurtful but it was also showered in gold, a blinding sort of glimmer that rolled up in the back of your mouth and out into the open.

“I’m afraid, Dean I can’t”

Your words were like a dagger. Surely you would hold and place every inch of trust and respect into the man that had made something out of you. His fingers almost soothed the irradiating warmth with coolness that managed to settle you, his eyes slightly flinched knowing that he could be the reason.

“Try me”

His words were sharp like the same dagger that struck him moments ago, cutting into your skin harshly forcing the lump to unravel in your throat, bubbling up into a strung up sentence.

At first you tried, cheeks twitching as you shuffled to face him, fearful of what he would think, how careless it was of you to be distracted in such a dangerous job.

“I- It was you…at first I tried…I really did to ignore it”

You stopped, palm growing sweaty as Dean’s own covered yours, which instantly calmed you like a bedtime story, putting you in a trans-like state which inevitably forced you to speak nothing but the truth.

“I couldn’t function with you so close to me-“

Dean gripped onto you hard, hard enough to make you stop like a deer caught in headlights. The glass he held so tight onto was discarded before he pealed his crossed leg away, both planted securely onto the cemented floor beneath.

You could feel it, the change. The way he fumbled and lost control of his features, how he somehow had gotten closer, his breath fanning across your now crimson cheeks.

“I nearly costed you your own life?”

His mouth hung agape, brows again burying themselves lower slightly. Nodding, eye contact seemed to be the only comfort, followed by his calloused palm that clung to your own tightly.

“N-No, not you, but…you were so close to me-“

It clicked. Like train-tracks slotting into its own fitted journey, his heart beat wickedly picked up, ringing in his own ears clouding his judgement. It was obvious now, just as time itself, it was obvious.

He grew closer, lips almost searching for it’s perfect surface, your own. He held his own, awaiting a certain go-head before taking ownership of the situation, eyes dimming from a emerald green to a suggestive darkness that rocked your entire existence, a growing lust travelling from the pits of his stomach upwards.

“How about now…sweetheart?”

The nickname rolled from his tongue effortless, stilling, you can only keep focus on how his whole demeanour changes much like seasons but this one stayed, the concentration that plastered across his face only drew the two of you closer until the gap was no more, his lips attaching to your own fiercely.

Dean wanted you in more ways then one, away from here, riddled away in his sheets, touching and holding you in every way possible.

——

You had no plans on messing this up.

Despite how small and rickety Dean’s bed was, you still managed to both fit onto it, slotting above his now naked body, hands and legs moving against each other igniting the everlasting lust you kept locked away for years.

It was easy for Dean, he was protective in ways that could seem possessive, loving in ways that could seem down-right heavenly, he had you right where he desired.

“I’ve dreamed about this…”

His mumble was loud enough to send shockwaves throughout your body which splayed itself across his own, against his body, somehow you had both managed to find a position that suited the circumstances.

It’s everything you had imagined and more, back pressed closely to his chest, his hands soothe small circles into your thighs before picking them up, just enough so they were level with your ears, body now folding in half just how Dean wanted you.

“Me to…”

You shyly hiss once his thick, reddened tip lingers against your pucker, his smirk growing once you needily whine into the thin air of his room.

“You want it that bad? Why didn’t you say so-“

His tone was deep and lust-filled, distracting you enough to push himself upward and inside, grazing the velvet walls you claimed, writing his mark with each inch.

“Dean-“

It couldn’t have felt better, biting your lips to suppress the hungry moans threatening to expose the two of you hastily gripping onto strong biceps wrapped around your thighs, slightly grounding you enough to keep composure.

He was thick and long, each ridge, each vein easily felt against the disappearing muscle that pushed the limits you were use to already, feeling full had never felt so good.

“You know how many nights- fuck; that I stayed up…” finally bottoming out, he stills allowing you to utilise the stretched out feeling, his balls pressed firmly against the cleft of your ass, enough to send you into overdrive, you had finally acquired all of Dean.

“Jerking off over you and your pretty little ass-“

Guttural, loud, pornographic. Each word described the temptation that riddled you both and the moan that slipped from his open lips moments ago, it felt surreal to be in the warmth and grip of your teacher, and the best hunter the world had ever had.

“I- I can’t”

Mumbling incoherently, blubbering as the tears slip from your damp lashes. It gave Dean both the pride and confidence to carry on, pulling himself out until his tip lingered on your entrance.

“You can honey, i’ve got you”

Sinking back in with ease, he could feel it all, how soft and wet and pretty you were for him, how it all joined and created something unfathomable, something from a porno Dean was frequent with, but this, this was real and it had his emerald greens rolling back into his head and his hands trembling against your sweat-slicked skin.

“Oh fuck- sweetheart, so fucking good for me”

He was almost insatiable, from his confidence to the cocky attitude that had you a mess, cock weeping and twitching with every word and every touch.

“Dean, feel so full fuck-“

Smirking against your neck, he breaths, tonging at the spot that had you shaking in his grip. Ultimately his stamina had grown, fulfilling every need you had, like a bucket list, checking off every single damn thought you previously had of him.

In time, his speed grows to a certain speed that littered each corner of the room with loud slaps, his balls smashing against your cheeks with urgency, although lewd and slick, Dean had no plan of stopping, sliding in with each lap that had now moved to the shell of your ear.

“Wish I had you sooner, woulda stopped me from fucking the wrong one-“

He was vulgar to say the least, trapping you against his body, you had no escape but that was the dream you were once sold on, now, it was a reality you wanted to delve in for eternity, wrapped up in his body, entangled with nothing but the lust and drive to see stars.

“W-Wish I had you sooner-“

Dean didn’t think twice to turn your head slightly with his strong grip, his fingers scrunching up your hair, smashing your lips together, engulfed by the flames that surrounded you both.

It didn’t last long, but it was short and sweet, all tongue and love. You were mistaken if you thought Dean had any softness in his bones when he began to fuck up into you without remorse, holding your legs up and wide, hitting the bundle of nerves that had you limp against his front.

Doe-eyed and delirious from his affection, each thrust sending you into a blissful heaven, you let go, the walls crumbling around finally falling completely, you spray into the open air, each glop landing onto the manly forearms holding you still.

“That’s it- atta boy-“

With a swift slap to your glutes that rang out like a rusty spring snapping, Dean holds you down by the hips, slowly rolling, riding out his high. A few “fucks” had managed to escape him, voice now hoarse from the lingering tipsiness.

Each splatter painted your insides white, finally claiming what he had dreamed of forever, you.

Panting, breathing in the same air, your both left feeling weak and limp but better, it was almost as vivid as the dreams you had experienced in the past that involved the very man that had you cum hands free.

He chuckles, green eyes flicking up to meet yours. His glare was sincere, sweet almost overbearing if it hadn’t been for the soft pat he gave your ass, slowly enveloping your lips with his.

It lasted longer then before, more lips then anything else, deep and inviting. Pulling away for air, glancing down at him had never felt so intimate, his smile big and bright, blinding in every best way possible.

“Not the first time that’s happened”

He points to the mess dripping down your thighs and backside, chuckling in amusement as you blush, burying your head in his neck giving him the right amount of space to slip out of you, already you feel empty, yearning for the next time.

“That’s the first time it’s happened…”

Mumbling against his neck, breathing his scent in, the aftershave that spoke to his character invading your senses, delirium flooding back into your veins.

“It won’t be the last sweetheart, for a very long time-“

You laugh immediately before pecking him on the lips, returning to nuzzle in the crook of his neck.

It was if you were both lost in the darkness of the room, tangled together, damp and basking the afterglow of bliss, witnessing the relaxed smile he offered was your golden ticket to a happy every after, his arms holding you close, he had you now and you had him…

#male reader #x male reader #dean winchester #supernatural #dean winchester x male reader #smut #fluff #this man has me in a chokehold i swear #I literally wrote this in a month- i-#i love him your honor #he’s just fruity #and I love him-

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impala-dreamer · 8 months

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Tourniquet - Chapter Seven

A Supernatural Dean x Reader Series Told Backwards

~Y/N has been by Dean’s side through his worst days, always there if he needs her, forever just a call away. Love is impossible to fight and more impossible to live with. Just a side character in his epic life, Y/N would give anything just to give Dean a moment’s peace.~

Please see MASTERLIST for full info/warnings/chapter links.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works ~ Get A Custom Story

Summon All Hope

It was hard to stay away from him too long, but there was always something to do and Y/N never quite felt that she was really a part of their story. It was Sam and Dean, not Sam, Dean, and Y/N. Anyway, she had her own adventures, her own scenes to play out. Sure, she’d never brought anyone back to life or, apparently, triggered the Apocalypse, but she had some important episodes under her belt.

In 2008, she’d helped to successfully take out a conglomerate of vampires who were kidnapping and draining virgins from across the country and selling their blood around the world to hungry monsters with deep pockets. Sometimes, they even sold the young girls fresh and alive, more of a farm to table operation. Y/N and her father put an end to that. Took a few months, but they did it, and Y/N had a few new scars to prove it.

The end of 2009 was rough.

After a fight with her father, Y/N had gone off on her own, driving until her old truck finally gave out in a little town outside of New Orleans. Finding the weather terrible but warm, she settled in, got a crappy little apartment, and even met someone. He had green eyes that reminded her of Dean, but that’s where the similarities ended. He was too soft, too kind. Not that Dean was unkind to her, ever, but he never showed it until the lights were out and pillows were warm. No, Travis was unlike anyone else in her life and perhaps that’s why she grew so attached. He played guitar and read books and cooked breakfast for her every morning.

While she still hunted, the monsters seemed to be leaving her alone; that life faded into the background. She was happy, mostly.

At night when the moon was full and the wind warm, she liked to sit in the courtyard behind her apartment building and look up at the sky. Just like in that old movie with the mice in New York City, she often wondered if Dean was looking up at the moon along with her. She wondered where he was, wondered if he was alright. Most nights she would fall asleep out there, arms wrapped around herself, mind far away with The Boy with the Green Eyes.

At the end of April, Travis vanished mysteriously right out of their bed one Tuesday night. Knowing he wouldn’t just up and leave without a word, Y/N panicked and called her father to help her search for him.

The leads were as cold as the bed she refused to sleep in again. After a week, his body washed up in the mud along Honey Island. The coroner’s report listed the cause of death as drowning and noted the apparent exsanguination from an alligator attack, but she knew better. Those weren’t animal bites, they were retaliation.

Guilt racked her insides. If she had only been more careful, if she’d taught him about the dark side of the universe, if she’d only loved him as much as she loved-

It didn’t matter. Travis was gone and she was back on the road with her father.

Another town, another tragedy. That was life.

The Winchesters were never too far from her mind. In fact, her phone would often ring with a random text from Sam just checking in, or a call from Dean late at night.

She always answered. No matter how tired, no matter how beaten down. She always took his call, always answered his texts, emails, letters.

The letters were a little harder to deal with as they came months and sometimes years apart. She kept a P.O. Box in Lansing, Michigan, but could only check it while swinging by on jobs. At times, the box would be empty, and others, full to the brim with postcards or letters stuffed into dingy white envelopes sporting random motel names.

She always smiled when she saw the big, heavy block letters spelling her name.

He mostly wrote to her when he was bored, the letters full of musings about the future or weaving tales about cases they had closed. They were a tiny peek into the script of his life, and Y/N loved every one.

The calls were less enjoyable.

While she lived to hear his voice, ached to hear him whisper her name, the calls were never good ones.

He called when he was at the end of his rope, when the world had beaten him so far down that the only thing he could do was crawl on his belly through the muck and bleed himself dry. He called when he was sure he was dying, when he needed to hear a voice from the past, something constant that he could rely on never leaving him like so much in his life had. He called when he was drunk and lonely, when he was laid up with a broken bone, when he was horny and no one was interested in a bruised face and ripped jeans.

Y/N was always interested, always there to listen, to hold his hand across the miles. She gave him everything she could and never asked for anything in return but to hear him laugh by the end of a call. She needed to know that he could still smile, that it wasn’t too late for him.

It was May when he called.

Y/N had just cleaned up after an exorcism that left her a little bit bloody and a whole lot aching.

The phone rang while she was in the shower and she should have ignored it, but she knew who it was. Something about that ring always told her it was Dean.

Water dripped from her hair as she answered.

“Hey, Y/N/N.”

His voice was deep and heavy; traces of tears lingered on his slow tongue.

She closed her eyes, gripped the phone tight. “Dean? Hey, what’s going on?”

“Where are you?”

Her stomach flipped. He hadn’t asked to see her in years, hadn’t had a chance to.

“Little motel outside of Pinecreek, Minnesota.”

He cleared his throat and Y/N could see him in her head; the crease between his eyes deepening, the tightness of his jaw.

“Can you meet me? I’m- uh- I’m leaving Chicago now. Headed back to Bobby’s.”

Bobby. It’d been too long away from him as well.

Y/N swallowed down her nerves. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. Tell me where…”

The neon diner lights were ridiculously bright, bouncing not only out into the night, but back into the booth. Their faces were bathed in pink; half-eaten burgers glowing on their plates.

“So…” Y/N was still reeling from all the information he’d given. She believed every word, it was just hard to believe that the fate of everything laid squarely on the shoulders of that little boy with his nose in a book.

Dean nodded solemnly. “Yeah.”

“Wow.”

He hummed in agreement and set his elbows on the table, hung his head between his hands.

She didn’t know what to say, the words were still processing in her head, trying to filter their way down to her lips, but it was too much.

“What are you gonna do?” she asked, keeping her voice as calm as she could.

Green eyes shot up through the cave of his hands.

“What can I do? I either end the fucking world or lose my brother.”

Her chest ached.

“This isn’t fair, Dean. Fuck. This isn’t fair at all.”

He laughed under his breath. “Yeah, well, when has my life ever been fair?”

Suddenly freezing, Y/N closed her arms around herself, shrank down into the ugly brown vinyl seat. The springs creaked and Dean lifted his head, just watching her, staring hard.

“I know what I have to do,” he said in a gruff whisper. “But… Y/N, what if I can’t do it? What if I can’t stand there and watch him die again?”

“Again.” She laughed because it was absurd. Tears welled because it was horrifying.

Dean smiled.

“You know what I mean.”

And she did, better than anyone.

Y/N took a breath and looked away, eyeing the empty dessert display on the counter. They should have gone somewhere with pie. Damnit.

“I know,” she said sadly. “I also know you. And I know that no matter what it takes from you, how much it kills you… You always do what you think is best. And what you think is best, is usually the right thing to do.”

Dean sucked in a breath and sat upright, but it didn’t stop a single tear from dragging down his cheek. He swatted it away and bit his lip, clearly struggling but sure. “I know. It fucking sucks but I know.”

Silence fell and the pair sat in the nearly empty diner, food growing cold on their plates. Y/N picked up a french fry just to have something to do but the smell of it close to her mouth made her gut churn.

It fell back down onto the pile. Discarded, abandoned.

Dean cleared his throat, done with the pain.

“Wanna see something cool?” he asked, reaching into his jacket pocket.

Y/N raised a brow. “If it’s what I’m thinking, I’ve already seen it. Also, put it away, we’re in public.”

His cheeks glowed with a smile and a wave of relief washed over her. He would be OK. Eventually.

“It’s not that,” he confessed. “Not yet, anyway.”

Onto the table, he placed three ornate antique rings down in a wide triangle configuration. A fourth he kept tight in his hand.

“What’s all this?” she asked, leaning in.

“Rings from the Four Horsemen,” he said softly, gaze locked on the rings.

“Of the Apocalypse?” she laughed.

He did not.

“Yeah. And this one belongs to Death.” He held out the ring and then placed it on the table top. “Watch.”

He pushed the fourth ring towards the others and as if by magic, they moved on their own, coming together with a clink of metal and fusing into one piece.

Y/N’s eyes were wide, her lips agape. “That is cool.”

A half smile turned his mouth. “Told ya.”

“Can I?” She reached for the rings and he nodded. They were heavy, solid, and she held it up to the pink light, examining the markings. “This is weird. What do you do with it? I assume it’s something major if you had to steal it from Death Himself.”

Dean sat back and crossed his arms. “Actually, he gave it to me.”

Her breath stopped. “Death? You just casually met Death and he gave you his ring like you’re old buddies…”

“We kinda are. Ish. I don’t know. He ate a lot of pizza. And he’s creepy looking.”

She laughed. She had to. “Wow. I missed a lot.”

Gently, he took the rings from her. He didn’t ignore, but didn’t draw attention to the spark he felt as their fingers touched.

“This… thing… opens Lucifer’s cage. And Sam is going to jump into it, with Lucifer locked inside him.”

Y/N stayed quiet, unable to come up with anything to say. She couldn’t claim she was close to Sam, but he had always been there, a little brother on the edges of her life. It didn’t matter how deeply she felt for Sam, what mattered was how it was killing Dean to say it all out loud. How it was ripping him apart inside to have to do what he had to do.

“Dean, I-”

He cut her off, jamming the rings back into his pocket. He took a breath and smiled.

“You wanna get outta here?”

The backseat wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it was familiar. Dean laid down a blanket and then Y/N, carefully undressing her with wet kisses and calloused hands.

She fell back against the seat, naked and chilled, waiting for him.

The old lug nut pendant hung down between her breasts and Dean looked down in awe.

“You still wear this old thing?” he asked, ghosting his fingers over the top of the metal.

She looked up with a loving gaze and nodded. “Of course. You gave it to me.”

He licked his lip and shook his head. “It’s junk.”

Her hand closed around his wrist and she tugged him down to kiss the lie out of his mouth.

“It’s my lucky charm…”

Morning broke with golden light and Dean stirred, smiling when he realized Y/N was snoring in his lap. Carefully, he prodded at her shoulder and she sucked in a heavy breath, waking.

“Hey…”

“Mornin’.”

Y/N sat up and rubbed at her eyes. “We shoulda gotten a room.”

He chuckled softly. “Ain’t nothing we haven’t done before. Besides, my baby’s more comfy than some old germy motel bed.”

She shrugged and cracked her neck. “Yeah. I guess so.”

Dean swallowed hard and chewed his lip, trying to muddle through his emotions.

Y/N peeked through her shirt as she tugged it on. “What’s wrong?”

“I feel like an asshole sayin’ this, but… I really gotta get going. I wasn’t planning on staying the night and-”

Her heart sank just a little bit but she braved through it. Wasn’t the first time, wouldn’t be the last.

“No…” She waved him off. “I get it. Places to go, worlds to save.”

He stared off, past her, past the window, past the sky. Thinking, worrying, dying inside.

Y/N took a chance. “I can come with you. I don’t know what the whole plan is, but you’re gonna need… I don’t know, support? Moral or otherwise.”

He shook his head, pursed his lips. “No.”

She lay a hand on his knee. “Dean, you don’t have to do this alone.”

He took a breath, closed his eyes, covered her hand with his. “I do. Don’t want to, but I have to.”

Defeat and worry spread through her like branches.

“Will you… will you call me when it’s done? I just… Promise you’ll call me.”

He lifted her hand to his lips. “Of course I will.”

His smile was short and soft, his eyes wet and dark.

He never called.

Tourniquet Tags:@prettyinplaid94 @winharry @muhahaha303 @cookiechipdough @ladysparkles78

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)@babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @the-wounded-healer05

#spn fanfic #fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean season 5 #angst #series #tourniquet

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winchesterfanatic1967 · 2 years

Text

The L Word

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,273

Warnings- Season 5 spoilers

You awoke with a deep gasp, your heart pounding and eyes wide. Sitting up and looking around the room you realize that you’re ok. Sam was asleep on the motel bed next to you, while Dean slept peacefully beside you. His chest rose and fell steadily, and you were more than grateful that you didn’t wake either of the boys up.

This hunt had been particularly difficult, and you knew the boys were exhausted and they needed their sleep. You were also exhausted, but the nightmares that usually occurred stopped you from being able to sleep.

The truth is, you were defeated. You and the Winchester brothers were working non stop and it was beginning to be one hunt after the other without a break and casualty after casualty with more lives lost than saved. It was kind of Sam’s fault that the world was coming to an end, but he received so much backlash from everyone you figured he’s been punished enough.

You couldn’t help but sigh softly and buried your face into your hands, then running your fingers through your scalp in frustration. Tears pricked at your eyes and you tried desperately to hold them back. All you wanted to do was sleep and get some well needed rest.

“Y/n? S’matter?”

You looked to your right to see Dean looking at you with squinty and sleepy eyes. Guilt coursed through you. “M’sorry De. Go back to sleep I’m alright.”

“What happened? Another nightmare?”

You look at him confused but he knew you better than you knew yourself. “We share a bed at every motel we stay in, and when we aren’t staying in a motel we’re living in the car. If you think I don’t know you by now or picked up on the fact that you’re not alright, you’re crazy.”

You quietly sigh, and look to your arms that were holding onto your legs. “You’re right. M’not alright. I haven’t been for some time.”

“I know.” He says teasingly with a smile playing onto his lips and yours did the same. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,-” You shook your head. “But..I really should.”

“I know I’m not the best person to talk to or get advice from. Hell, I bottle everything up and explode when I can’t take it anymore, but take it from me. Talking about your issues is way better than letting your mental health go down the drain…”

“I just…I feel like a failure. We’ve lost so many people in the last few years and with everything going on with the apocalypse… I feel like were losing more casualites than actually saving lives..”

The way he was looking at you was making your heart melt. His complete attention was on you, no distractions and every word you spoke you felt more and more comfortable expressing your feelings to him. You should’ve talked to him more, but you were stubborn just like him.

The truth is, your heart belonged to Dean and it always will. You’ve had your fair share of hookups with him and you knew that’s all you would ever get. Let’s face it, hunters don’t get a happy ending and he made it perfectly clear that it was a friends with benefits relationship.

Everytime he got close to someone it ended up in hurt and death. It’s the reason why he and Cassie never worked out, or why he had to walk away from Lisa. He knew he would never be able to get anything real and that’s why it was easy with you. No feelings or strings attached and you knew about the Supernatural so you understood the life.

Everything went well except you broke the number one rule of your friends with benefits relationship. You grew real feelings. Of course you wouldn’t say anything to Dean, because having him as a friend was better than not having him as anything at all.

“I just… I don’t know how to move forward. Trying so hard to save the world everyday and knowing it’s all on our shoulders is putting so much pressure on me. The clock is ticking and we’re running out of time. Jo and Ellen are dead because of us, Bobby can’t walk because of us…at his point I feel as if the world would be a better place without me” Your eyes welled up with tears and you were desperately trying to push them down.

“Hey hey hey, c’mere…” He cooed gently and pulled you into him. You turned to face him and wrapped your arms around his torso while burying your face into the crock of his neck.

He felt the tears sliding against his skin and his heart broke at the silent sobs that racked your body. He was so in love with you and it terrified him. He fell in love with you at the first hello. His past relationships never worked out but he couldn’t hide his adoration for you. He didn’t want to see you get hurt or to lose you so he figured innocent flirting and hooking up would do no harm.

You meant way more to him than just a hookup. He was scared as fuck to tell you especially now. If he told you how he really felt knowing his luck you would die on him tomorrow.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea how wrong you are..” He says softly. “The world would be a worse place without you in it. It would most likely already be destroyed if you weren’t here. No, this isn’t easy and it takes a toll on me too every single day. But I know for a damn fact without you, me, Sam and Bobby..it.. It wouldn’t be half the world it is. No, things aren’t the best with Bobby but unfortunately in our line of work it’s unpredictable and anything can happen at anytime. I really thought I would be dead by now and here I am at 30 alive and kicking. We’re doing our best and I can’t promise that any of us are going to make it through it, but I know for a fact we’re going to stop the apocalypse. If we go down, then we’re going to go down together and swinging…”

Your silent cries turned into tears, which eventually turned into occasional sniffles as he spoke softly. He always knew the right things to say to make you feel better. “Thank you…” You sniffle quietly and he wraps his arms around you tighter.

“I wish our lives were different sweetheart, because I would love to be normal with you…white picket fence with a dog and some kids..”

You look up at him and the amount of vulnerability in his features made your heart flutter. “I want that more than anything too De…I have strong feelings for you and it scares the shit out of me…”

“I, I feel the same way. I want to use the L word so much…because you deserve nothing more than to hear it every day…but I can’t. M’ scared to shit that if I tell you you’ll be taken from me and I can’t…” He took a deep breath.

“It’s okay De. I understand.”

“C’mere.”

You snuggled deep into him as much as you could while burying your face into his neck once more. He placed a kiss to the top of your head while wrapping his arms around you snugly.

“If somehow we do make it out of this…things will be different. I promise.” He spoke and now you had a reason to want to make it through this and live.

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melo-bees · 1 month

Text

Light

Summary: in which Coriolanus finds comfort through the form of his best friend.

Content/Warnings: pure fluff! Best friend!Reader, Acadmey!Coryo, comfort, mentions of the 10th annual Hunger Games

a/n: Hello! This is my first real fic that I’ve ever posted so please keep that in mind! I’m always open to constructive criticism! I’m also opening my asks soon! Enjoy!!

You and Coriolanus had grown up together practically attached at the hip. You’d experienced everything together; to taking piano lesson, to surviving the cruel war that shook the capitols a mere few years ago, and now you were mentors together for the tenth annual Hunger Games. Your teachers and classmates seemed ecstatic about the whole ordeal, this was the first year that academy students such as yourselves were mentoring tributes. It was supposed to be an experience of a lifetime.

However, for Coriolanus; it simply was not. He had already been working tirelessly to be at the top of the class to win the coveted Plinth prize so he could afford college. As his best friend you knew the Snows did not have a single coin to their name, although they did a very good job of hiding that fact. With the hopes of the prize being potentially stripped away, Coriolanus was working overtime to ensure that his tribute would preform well in The Games. Luckily for him, his tribute seemed to be a natural at preforming. She was a songbird, a gift to him. However, dancing and singing wouldn’t get you far in The Games. She didn’t have a chance at survival.

But despite all of the hardships in Coriolanus’ current life, he had found solace in your presence.

Which is why you were sitting on his bed in his dingy, run down room. Coriolanus tried to keep the space tidy for your sake. Well, that and he hated the feeling of being poor and his living conditions looking the part.

“I can’t believe I got stuck with the district 12 girl. Sure she can sing but she doesn’t stand a chance in the arena,” Coriolanus mumbled in an annoyed tone.

You let out a light laugh, a laugh that always brightened his expression even if it was by a small amount. You shook your head and tilted it to the side.

“Coryo, don’t worry yourself with that girl. The Dean said it wasn’t about who wins it’s about who performs the best. Who gives the people an audience. Who cares if your songbird croaks in the end?” You tried to lighten his mood with that wonderfully bright smile of yours.

A small smile crossed Coriolanus’ lips. He shook his head and let out a small huff, trying to hide his expression. “Everything is about winning.”

“Then find a way for her to win. You always pull through. You will again.” You said earnestly. You hated how critical he was of himself.

Your words seemed to brighten him a touch. He stood up and sat next to you on his creaky, broken down bed. He touched your forehead to his. “You always know what to say. But I suppose with you at my side I’ll manage.”

You quipped with that infectious grin, “What would you do with me, hm?” Coriolanus rolled his eyes but his smile grew into a grin. He chuckled a bit.

“I’d be lost I suppose.”

“Then I’ll be your light to guide you.” Your voice was soft and almost whispery. Like you were sharing a secret or a promise. And in his heart it was a promise.

#coryo snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fluff #writing #tbosas #thg fanfiction #thg #fanfic #fluff #comfort #academy coryo #tom blyth

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mackeydoodledoo · 9 months

Text

Chapter 3: I Will Find You

Pairing: Lamina x (Fem!Mentor)Reader

Summary: You got her home. But, you never got to give her a proper goodbye. Now everything for you seemed dull. You decide to leave your life in the capitol behind to find Lamina, and possibly build yourself a new life.

Warnings: New surroundings, Capitol/Districts feud, Injuries, Social Anxiety, Swearing, Lamina's PTSD

Key: Italics = Thoughts, +*+ = Time Skip, Bold/Italics = Flashback

Theme: Find You - Zedd

A/n: None

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

You let the crutch drop to the floor, students begin to murmur as you slowly hobble your way over to Gaul. Some students attempt to help you, however, push them away.

"Dr. Gaul, I humbly request that you bring my tribute out from that arena, or I will walk in there myself and bring her out," You stare up at her

Dr. Gaul does nothing but stare down at you for a long while.

"I admire your determination to keep your tribute alive," She says, showing a maniacal smile, "Even if you are injured because of those rebel districts."

"Lamina." You correct her, eyes still narrowed, "Her name. Is. Lamina. She has nothing to do with the rebels..."

The pain in your ankle was unbearable... However you continued to apply weight into your good ankle. Her smile widens further.

"You're going to need a longer healing time for that ankle of yours," Dr. Gaul gestures to your wrapped ankle

Then she leans towards a personnel worker.

"Bring... Lamina out of the arena."

You saw how she paused before finally acknowledging Lamina by her name rather than 'tribute'. Cheers abrupt throughout the room as you are lifted onto the shoulders of your classmates, chanting your name.

"Ladies and Gentleman, your winner of the 10th Annual Hunger Games, from District 7, Lamina!" Lucky announces

+*+

You rushed to the train station, hoping to catch Lamina off before she would get on the train home.

"I believe your tribute had left already," Dean Highbottom appears

"What?" You turn to him, "Why?"

"You grew attached," He says

"N-no I didn't," You lie, "I just wanted to see her off, send her a goodbye before she left."

"I'm afraid that wasn't up to you, she had wished to return home as soon as possible," He says

"I see," You sigh

You begin hobbling out of the station, tears building and streaming down your face.

When will I see you again Lamina?...

+*+

You enter your house, your mother finishing setting the table.

"Splendid job sweetie. I- hey what's the matter?" She says, then asking after seeing the look on your face, "I thought you were going to see Lamina off?"

"I was... But, Dean Highbottom told me she had already left by the time I got to the station," You sigh, falling into a nearby chair

"That's too bad," She sighs, "I definitely would have wanted to give her some snacks for the road..."

"Yeah," You sigh, "A real bummer..."

"Well darling, you must be hungry after an entire day of anxiety," You mother sits next to you at the table

"Yeah..." You sit up, "I actually am..."

Your mother rings you up a plate.

"I heard that you went against the Dr. Volumnia Gaul," Your mother says, "No student, or anyone for that matter has ever done so before I believe."

"Well, she was going to have no victors," You say, "Lamina was the last one standing. I didn't care about winning and getting that Plinth Scholarship or whatever... I cared about getting Lamina home. I may or may not have told her that she either bring her out or I waltz in there, snake mutts and all, and bring her out myself."

"That's my girl," Your mother praises your act of defiance

-1 Year Later- The next Hunger Games was around the corner... You were offered to become a mentor once again, however, rejected it. Growing an attachment to a person who could possibly die in the arena was enough for you to opt out the next year. You were not about to watch kids kill each other again...

You sit in your little nook; having graduated from the Academy, you decided to not attend University, as they had nothing that you could have gotten out of them, you told the Plinth Family that you didn't want their money, and to give it to the next eligible person they saw fit...

You look down upon your wrist...

Lamina's headscarf...

You remember her wrapping it around your wrist the night you visited her the last time before the 10th games started. Every single day since you had kept it on you in some way; mostly as a wrist 'bracelet'.

I wonder how she's doing now... I hope she's okay...

You used the graduation savings your mother put aside for you to do anything you wanted: you got a place of your own. It's not as spacious as your childhood home was, but it fit enough for you.

+*+

You visited your mother for a monthly dinner meeting.

"Has it been the same?" She asks

"Yeah," You sigh, "There's nothing."

"There is something that I need to talk to you about," She says

Your heart sinks....

"What about?..." You ask

"Do you know why I never told stories of my past before I met your father?" She asks

"You... Were from the districts?" You immediately guess

She nods, "District 9 to be exact. I taught your father how to cook and that was how he and I became one of the most renowned culinary artists in the capitol. Your father's capitol status was able to rub off on me and no one suspected that I was from the districts."

"That makes sense why I feel differently towards the games than others," You say

"You're... Not upset?" She asks

"No," You say, "I honestly wished I was actually born in the districts rather than being born here."

"Don't let anyone who is very capitol hear you say that," She chuckles

"Luckily I graduated," You chuckle back, "Tell me mother, can someone from the capitol move to the districts? Specifically to look for someone?"

"You could move to the districts as a capitol member, but moving back here... I wouldn't guarantee it," Your mother explains

"That's fine by me," You say, "I'm going to search for Lamina."

"Y/n..." Your mother stops you

As you stand from the table, you turn to look at your mother.

"Be really careful," She says

"I always will mother," You smile

"I'm so proud of you," She says, giving you a hug

+*+

You packed light, your mother gave you her baked goods to bring to Lamina. You dressed down form what you used to wear and basically dressed similar to the boy from 7 from the 10th games.

"Don't lose touch Y/n," Your mother says

"I won't," You say

You step onto the train heading for District 7.

+*+

You step out of the train, already greeted with the

As you cautiously make your way through the district, you already felt eyes piercing your skin... You enter the exchange district, looking for Lamina's trademark red hair.

"Hey you," A voice calls out from behind

You slowly turn to face them...

"May I help you?" You ask

*Lamina's POV* As you pay for the final item to bring home, you hear a faint grunt...

Was that?...

You make your way out to the field and see some familiar faces beating...

"Oh my god Y/n!!" You yell

You drop all of your items and rush over to them.

"Let her go!! I know who she is!" You yell

They stop and let her go.

*Y/n's POV* You groan in pain but look up. Your eyes widen at the figure running towards you. But you knew that figure anywhere.

"L-Lamina!" You yelp

You rush onto your feet and run to her, meeting her halfway. You grunt in pain as she wraps you in the most gripping way possible.

"Lamina, how do you know her? She's capitol," One says

"She was my mentor," She explains, "She was the one who got me home."

"This twig right here?" Another asks

You give him a death glare.

A twig?... Ouch...

"Well, with the right training, she'd... be a great addition to our ranks," She says

"If... You say so Lamina," He says

All three men walked away. Lamina turns to you, eyes narrowed at you.

"You shouldn't have come," She says, grabbing your wrist

"You... You were happy to see me just now," You point out

"I only did that so they wouldn't continue beating your ass," She says, "Now we have to get you back to the train station so we can get you back to the capitol."

"I... Can't," You say, stopping

"Why not?" She asks, turning to you

"Once a capitol person moves out to the districts, they're considered as such," You explain, "And you'll always be seen as district if you move to the capitol."

"But, they'll beat you everyday for making our lives a living hell," Lamina says

"Then maybe I shouldn't think like a capitol," You say, "Teach me how to be apart of the districts... Mentor me... This time."

Lamina gasps a little...

"Me... Mentor you?" She asks

You nod.

"Y/n... You're dumb, for coming all the way out to the districts.." She mumbles

"Well, people of the capitol would call me dumb for leaving the capitol," You sigh

Lamina drags you to her family home. Her father was gathering wood.

"Lamina, did you get the stuff we need?" he asks

"Yes I did pop," She replies

Once he looks up, he places his hands on his waist.

"Who is this?" He asks, gesturing to you

"This is... A friend," Lamina says

"She doesn't look like she's from around here," He says

"I'm not," You say

"Which District do you come from?" He asks

The both of of pause...

How do I say I'm from the capitol?...

"She's from the Capitol," Lamina says before you could

Lamina's heart beats out of her chest... Your stomach feels nauseous. Both from the lack of an answer from her father.

"Big guts to get the courage to move out from that shit hole," He says, "What brings you here?"

"I.. Didn't feel that my life was in the capitol anymore..." You say, "My mother encouraged me to go here... She's from the districts herself... 9 to be exact."

"Why don't we discuss more inside?" He gestures

You watch him as he walks up the steps to his home. You were surprised at how well this was... Going for you. You look at Lamina. but, she rolls her eyes and follows her dad inside. You follow suit.

"Why did your mother leave 9?" He asks

"Better work opportunity I guess," You explain, "My father died when I was young. Just been me and my mother ever since."

"And. What does she do?" He asks

"She's a cook at the capitol academy," You say

"Oh so you were a mentor in the 10th hunger games?" He asks

You nod...

"Y/n was my mentor," Lamina adds

"Really?" He asks

You nod again.

"I'm forever grateful for keeping my daughter alive," He says

"Please, sir," You chuckle, "I only sent her supplies. She managed to get herself out."

"She also shielded me from the bombings in the arena," Lamina says, "No other capitol mentor had done that before."

You look over to Lamina as she attempts to place you on a high pedestal.

"Please, I don't need to be treated as a hero," You say, "Lamina showed me that you are all human too, and that whatever the hell the capitol taught people like me, were wrong about the districts."

"Are you sure that this girl isn't from any of the districts?" He turns to his daughter

"She was born and raised in the capitol pops," Lamina sighs, "Are we done?"

She gets up and goes up to her room...

"Don't take it personal," He says, "She... Hasn't been the same since she came home."

"What do you mean?" You ask

"She isn't normally the cheerful daughter I once had, she wakes up almost every night, screaming," He explains, "She's been trying to forget everything that happened in that arena."

"And... Me?" You curiously ask

"Hmmm... She never mentioned you once," He says

"Mmm," You say, "So... Enough about me, what does someone do in the district?"

"I was going to chop wood to sell at the market later, care to help?" He asks

"Sure," You say

*Lamina's POV* You look out from your bedroom window and watch as your pops and Y/n begin to grab axes and chop wood.

You scoff and walk away from the window, walking across the hall to your pop's bedroom; walking up to a little crib.

"Hey you," You sigh into a smile, picking up your now 1-year old brother

He coughs and begins to stifle into a cry.

"Hey, shhhhh," You coo, sitting on the bedside, "It's okay... That happens to me too... Almost every night... I know you won't understand right now but... Do you want to know what I do that helps me calm down?... I think of the good things that this specific capitol-born person had done in the few days I had gotten to know and had come to love... She showed me that not all capitol-born are preppy and stuck-up."

You stand from the bed and walk back into your room; checking on Y/n. A small smile appears as you watch her learn how to use an axe with your pops.

I love her...

But, you weren't sure how she felt about you... As well as that you know only so much about her. Thinking back to your short days in the capitol, you never forgot how much ease you felt being around her, how she kept you fed as much as possible, and how many extra visits you got... How her words had gotten you out of the arena...

Chapter 4

#lamina #lamina tbosas #lamina x reader #female reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #district 7

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boredmezzosoprano · 4 months

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Did Nelly love Hindley?

Due to my obsession with Wuthering Heights I came across this fan theory that states that Nelly Dean was actually in love with Hindley. It was apparently a popular enough theory that the 1970 movie went ahead and made it canon. At first I was like 'nah' partly because Hindley is the character I care the least about and also because when you read Nelly's narration of the story, it seems like she doesn’t really like anyone but then I reread the book and I started to see why people might think that. The first thing you have to remember is that despite how most adaptations portray her, Nelly was not an old woman when the Earnshaw's were children, she was actually the same age as Hindley. Anyway there were several things that made me think she might have carried a torch for him. It’s mentioned early on that after Frances Earnshaw dies (something Nelly was not particularly sad about) Hindley completely loses his sh*t! As his alcoholism gets worse he becomes extremely violent to the point that every servant at Wuthering Heights quits except for Nelly and Joseph. Joseph stays on just so he can act like the moralistic prude that he is and Nelly stays to look after Hareton (or so she says). Not even Hindley nearly killing her and Hareton gets her to leave! When Cathy asks Nelly to come with her to Thrushcross Grange Nelly turns her down to stay at the Heights (once again using Hareton as an excuse), despite the fact that Thrushcross Grange is a nicer place and she would get paid more. She seems quite upset when Hindley orders her to go with Cathy. While at the Grange she’s constantly paranoid about something happening to Hindley and uses every excuse to visit the Heights. There’s one chapter where she goes to the Heights and and is swept up in the memories of her and Hindley playing together as children and she even briefly hallucinates Hindley sitting across from her. Lastly when she later hears about Hindley's death she is absolutely devastated, much more than she had been about Cathy’s death or any of the other deaths in the book. She even describes it as such:

So perhaps her attachment to Hindley was simply because they grew up together although she also grew up with Cathy and that didn’t seem to conjure any kinship between them. It’s hard to say whether or not Ms. Brontë was trying to infer some affection on Nelly's part or not. Personally I think that there’s a lot of important details in the story that Ms. Brontë alludes to but never confirms or denies and just lets the audience come to their own conclusions (such as Heathcliff’s paternity and his whereabouts during the three years he disappeared from the Heights). I’m not certain that Nelly did have feelings for Hindley but I believe it could be a possibility…

#wuthering heights #nelly dean #fictional characters #character analysis #emily bronte #hindley earnshaw

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iliketoydinosaurs · 2 years

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Essay on Sam and Dean’s childhood

Heyyy here’s my essay on Sam and Dean’s childhood and how it affects the show. I wrote it for English class so it’s a little tedious. Edited for tumblr.

Sam never saw his childhood the way Dean did. In “Just My Imagination”(11x08), it’s shown that Sam had an imaginary friend because he was so alone all the time. In that episode we see the lines,

SAM. I was kind of a lonely kid, Dean.

DEAN. You weren’t lonely, you had me!

This shows that while Dean had thought he had taken care of Sam, Sam never really saw it that way. This largely comes from the fact that though Dean physically took care of Sam, Sam was still emotionally neglected. In this episode we also see that both John and Dean are away on a hunt, so he was being physically neglected at times as well. Sam was Dean’s responsibility from a very young age, something John enforced heavily. Dean’s whole life was centered around his family and taking care of Sam, but Sam saw their family, particularly their father, as what it was: neglectful and abusive. Dean was too young to have the emotional tools to truly take care of another child, especially considering he was emotionally neglected himself. Though Sam liked Dean significantly more than their father, Sam’s neglect still caused him to resent Dean. When he grows up he understands more how his brother was also just a kid.

In “Dark Side of the Moon”(05x16) Dean gets mad at Sam because all of Sam’s memories are when Sam was away from John, Dean, and hunting. We see one of Dean’s memories with their mother, Mary, from when he was four. In the memory Mary and John had gotten in a fight, and Dean tells Mary that John loves her, and he loves her. When Sam sees this he says, “I just didn’t realize how long you’d been cleaning up Dad’s messes.” One of Dean’s most treasured memories is consoling his mother, and Sam sees it and instantly takes it as Dean’s first instance of apologizing for his dad’s behavior. It’s obvious why they view this memory so differently when you consider that Dean has been explaining away his father’s behavior his whole life, but Sam never had to. Sam grew up with a less rose-colored-glasses view of his family, that Dean never had the luxury of. Whether it was between Mary and John, Sam and John, John and himself, Dean had to be the peacekeeper. This was only exacerbated when Mary died, John telling Dean he had to protect Sam no matter what, living on the road with little contact outside of his father, and the isolation that comes from being on the run and having to keep something like monsters a secret. Dean had to adapt to be like his father, this is often shown by characters calling him “daddy’s blunt little instrument.” These two episodes showcase how differently they view their childhoods; Dean with nostalgia(even in situations he maybe shouldn’t), and Sam with hurt and cynicism.

What’s interesting is that when John dies, they flip opinions on him. For the first time in his whole life, Dean can safely assess how he feels about his father. And he’s pissed. Sam on the other hand, ever the optimist, begins to regret fighting with their dad so much.

Dean and Sam’s unhealthy relationship is also largely influenced by their childhood. Because of their upbringing, Dean is overly attached to his brother. And with John constantly telling Dean that his one job was to protect Sam, Dean quickly came to the conclusion that Sam’s life was more important than his own. While Dean is overly attached to Sam, Sam is never quite as clingy. This disconnect greatly affects the show and causes many fights. When Dean gets back from purgatory in season 8, he’s upset that Sam never looked for him. In season 9, Sam is about to die. Dean makes a deal with Gadreel/Ezekial to possess Sam and heal him. This inevitably goes sideways. In the episode “The Purge”(09x13) Sam shouts at Dean that Dean should’ve just let him die and we see,

DEAN. Alright, you want to be honest, if the situation was reversed, and I was dying, you’d do the same thing.

SAM. No Dean, I wouldn’t. Same circumstances, I wouldn’t. I’m heading to bed.

Not only does Sam directly tell Dean that he’s done with constantly bringing each other back from the dead, he’s dismissive and he leaves.

This is a perfect example of their attachment styles, and how they differ. Dean has a fearful-avoidant attachment style, resulting in his massive fear of abandonment. Dean is terrified of getting close to people, especially non-hunters, as he fears it will end in death or pain, but Dean wants nothing more than to be loved. When monsters are trying to upset Dean, the first thing they do is use Sam (and others) to say Dean is a burden. This is also shown by how Dean processes emotions, by refusing to talk about it, until he has an angry outburst. After Castiel’s season 12 death, Dean says nothing about Cas’s death, but punches a door until his knuckles bleed when alone. This contrasts—and conflicts— with Sam’s avoidant attachment style. Sam withholds a lot of information from Dean, like in “After School Special”(04x13), it’s shown that in high school Sam was bullied and got into a fight, something he never told Dean or his dad. Sam has very few emotionally close relationships and he’s independent to a fault. Sam is more aware of this though, and more determined to have a normal life, so he tries many times to stop this behavior by getting in relationships, but his partners all die, betray him, or he leaves them, so by the end of the show he’s largely given up on normalcy. This is one of the reasons their relationship gets more unstable and codependent as the show goes on. Sam also has a tendency to bury his own feelings (especially when Cas dies) and deflects by trying to make Dean talk about his, which largely just ends in fights. Dean’s attachment style was shaped by not connecting to anyone outside his family. Sam’s was mostly shaped by not being cared for as a child.

And, of course, they were both shaped by John’s abuse. It would be pretty hard to dispute that John emotionally abused and neglected the both of them. And there’s many implications that he physically abused Dean (I will also point out that from my memory it’s never really implied that Sam was physically abused, so take that as you will. I could be missing something though). To name a few:

DEAN. Well, you don’t remember, do you? You ran away on my watch. I looked everywhere for you. I thought you were dead. And when Dad came home… (05x16)

DEAN. He'd be furious. That I wasted a bullet. He wouldn’t be proud of me, he’d tear me a new one. You’re not my dad. (01x22)

Anyways I could go on but I think I’m done for now.

#can you tell i have autism #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #i hate john winchester #character analysis

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draculagerard · 1 year

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ok so until u tell me how they become canon i'm just imagining a long distance relationship from the afterlife to the living .like twirling the phone line talking to eachother kinda shit

Nono youre right that's the truth. <3

anyways okay here's a rundown of what happened in the last three episodes (confession ep -> finale) + how the dean side of destiel is canon

If you just want the tl;dr, look at the picture attached !!!

background: Cas made a deal with the entity Empty, which is also the angel afterlife (dubbed superhell by tumblr) where the Empty would kill him in a moment of happiness in return for letting his son, Jack, live

detail: And Cas didnt tell anyone about this deal because he was like yeah man i dont see happiness for me because, in his words, the one thing i want is something i cant have.

Destiel canon episode, 15x18:

a whole season passed and Death (shes also a character) was trying to kill Dean and Cas and Dean are running away. then Cas realizes the only thing powerful enough to kill Death was the Empty. All he had to do was summon her.

Anyways Cas was like "happiness isnt in the having its in the being" and shit and confessed to Dean. basically he finally felt happy when he was able to accept and admit that he loved Dean and why. and then the Empty killed both Cas and Death.

(Dean was there on floor crying and ignoring everyone's calls until the sun rose </3)

15x19: Then the next episode was kind of a whole bunch of nothing destiel wise so you dont have to read this. but anyways a few highlight moments.

-> The devil/Lucifer calling Dean on his phone, pretending to be Cas, to let him into the bunker. angst moment 10/10. Casbaiting moment 0/10

-> Dean told God/Chuck that he would kill Sam and have Sam kill him if it meant Chuck could bring everyone back. and then he went out to emphasize that he had to bring Cas back.

15x20: Dean died on a fucking nail, went to heaven, his CAR was there (his fucking CAR. in heaven.), Jack (who is god now) revived Cas, Sam grew old and died, and yeah. the end

and ofc everyone was like okay . we're never getting anything huh.

wrong! okay so in his original confession, Cas said "I love you" and Dean replied "Don't do this..." (referring to Cas sacrificing himself to save Dean).

Then the spanish dub came out. In the spanish dub, it went "I love you" and dean replied "And I you, Cas" and like. what the FUCK. Destiel was fucking canon in SPANISH and then the tumblr servers actually froze and shut down for a while because of the disruption it caused LMAO.

so thats why the official status for destiel on the website looks like this:

#btw im not springing all of this on haz out of nowhere. He asked in the replies how it went canon and by god did i explain #edited it FIVE times to reduce the unnecessary information though lmao #moose asks #haz

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mlobsters · 1 year

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supernatural s7e10 death's door (w. sera gamble)

"dick is coming." *cut to "the rise of dick" graphic* i literally facepalmed. "he's making the doctor eat himself" you know. these leviathans, the special effects are so bad. this is supposed to be a sad bobby episode, quit snarkin.

i like bobby but i don't really have any emotional attachment to him either, i just can't seem to connect with jim beaver. and this feels like an honoring the special character we're killing off type episode. we'll see if they manage to get any tears out from me (if they do it'll be almost definitely via the boys' feelings)

BOBBY No, listen to me, Rufus. I’m gonna die! RUFUS Oh, now that’s a realistic view of the mortality rate on a ghost hunt. RUFUS is holding an EMF reader, which lights up and makes noises. RUFUS Whoa, whoa, Nellie, red line. All right, baby boy, here we go.

(see now there's an actor i can connect with! i'm glad we have this excuse to bring rufus back)

obligatory comment that this reaper is young and cute. winchester and co get the fresh ones, apparently

RUFUS I'll be a prima ballerina. Wait, wait, Bobby. Are you trying to tell me I'm just one of your better memories?

♥️

BOBBY You're coming with me, Rufus. RUFUS What? BOBBY I need my partner on this. Please.

BOBBY So, you're telling me that the way out was through your worst memory? RUFUS It's an important door, Bobby.

so er uh WAIT

the magicians s4e5 escape from the happy place

this is like the magicians episode s4e5 (periodic reminder sera was showrunner there too) escape from the happy place! eliot has to go through his worst memories to find the door to talk to quentin while he's possessed by the monster! lol

CHARLTON There's a door somewhere. Hidden deep in a forgotten remembrance.

ELIOT Huh. So just my most repressed and traumatic memory.

that's just. so funny. because that's the episode that really attracted a bunch of people to the fandom because it's where queliot became like.. canon with a possible future, as opposed to something that happened in the past (in a time loop). oh and hey i made some dumb parallels/comparatives thing with the smith/wesson spn episode and that episode here and i painted the queliot kiss from that ep to

all right. back to the spn. not telling your wife you don't want kids when you knew she did? not cool, bobby.

speaking of not cool. that startled me badly and poked that DV trigger. wanna show manly idiot grief exploding in aggression, do it not right next to a person's head. have him turn around and hit something. ugh.

DEAN He's not gonna die. SAM He might. DEAN Sam. SAM Dean, listen – we need to brace ourselves. DEAN Why? SAM Because it's real. DEAN What do you want to do? You want to hug and – and say we made it through it when Dad died? We've been through enough.

dean handling this as well as i expected. gotta lean on each other, man. don't leave sam alone with his satan-vision.

BOBBY (on phone) No, we didn't shoot rifles, as a matter of fact. We threw a ball around. He's a kid, John. They both are. They're entitled. Yeah, I know I ain't their dad.

you know i'm always here for john winchester shade.

BOBBY’S FATHER Good. You break everything you touch. BOBBY Uh-huh. Well, as fate would have it, I adopted two boys, and they grew up great. They grew up heroes. So you can go to hell!

nice to hear bobby's proud of them. his best memory being movie night with the boys bickering did get to me.

tw cancer / parental death under the cut

that fight with dean being in denial about bobby possibly dying and leaving sam alone in the hospital.. just got the mental calculation of how realistic is this type of clash, but then okay my dad died from cancer when i was 16, he was at home with hospice care. but my mom.. she died when i was 32. in the hospital, from cancer.

me and my brother were out there, she lived in az and i was in minnesota at the time, my brother in new england. she checked into the hospital for some biopsies and then rapidly declined and died 2 weeks later. we didn't even know she had cancer before then. so we were with her the last week. obviously real life is different from a show.

but i did have a moment where i had to leave. my brother was trying to help my mom have some ice chips but she was really so out of it, she couldn't deal with a solid in her mouth and she started choking. brought up one of the worst memories of when my dad was sick. mom woke me up, frantic, pulled me downstairs because my dad couldn't breathe and he was trying to sign something to her in ASL in the alphabet but she didn't know the letters. he was saying he couldn't breathe.

anyway. this show manages to jab me in the dead parents feelings routinely.

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 7x10 #spn-tm-thoughts #the magicians #escape from the happy place #on absent fathers (excused with a note)#rip rufus #bobby singer #sera gamble

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ameriecelestino · 1 year

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Full Name: Amerie Celestino

Nickname(s): Amy

Date of Birth: 20th of July

Hometown: Kismet Harbor, Oregon

Grew up in: Boston, Mass.

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Orientation: Bisexual

Relationship Status: Single

Occupation: Childcare Worker at Bright Moon Daycare

Living Arrangements: Apartment Downtown

Language(s) Spoken: English, Portuguese

Label: The Sweetheart

Positive Traits: Compassionate -

Negative Traits: Insecure -

TW: Death

Amerie was born in Kismet Harbor, Oregon to loving parents who always put their children before themselves, as well as their marriage. Growing up, Amerie knew exactly what love looked like based off of how her parents had raised her, which is why their divorce wasn't something she'd ever have been able to predict.

She moved to Boston with her dad. Here she met Haven Sinclair and the two became attached to the hip from the start.

Amerie experienced her first love and the two were talking about going away for college together, however when her mother got sick, Amerie had to make a difficult decission as none of her other two siblings were able to relocate to help out, it came down to Amerie. Always having been selfless, she made a difficult decission to leave her ex behind and move back to Kismet Harbor.

While looking after her mother, she started baby sitting on the side for some extra cash. She realized her passion for children, and enrolled to a part time program which allowed her to be there for her mom while getting a degree in early childhood education. Her mother sadly passed away in the beginning of 2011.

Since her mothers passing, Amerie took over her childhood home and has continued working in town as a childcare worker. Haven and Lake lived with her for a while so she helped her out with him in the beginning.

In October 2023, she began dating Dean Walker. The two dated until December 2023 when she found out about his infidelity. The two broke it off, and haven't spoken since.

Sicne then, however, Amerie has come to realise she is pregnant. Though there is a question about paternity seeing she had a one night stand only mere days after her break up with Dean.

WANTED CONNECTIONS - Older sibling - Younger sibling - Cousin - Aunt(s) - Uncle(s) - First love from Boston - First girl experience / girlfriend - One Nigh Stand and a "potential baby daddy" - Friend from her recent hiking retreat (potential end game)

HEADCANONS - Amerie is still paying for her late mothers phone bill so she can keep calling her voice mail and talk to her whenever she needs to

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anarchomuffin · 2 years

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I posted 1,863 times in 2022

That's 1,863 more posts than 2021!

304 posts created (16%)

1,559 posts reblogged (84%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@lord-kaira

@castielsupernatural

@youre-only-gay-once

@beachboysnatural

@pussypopstiel

I tagged 1,072 of my posts in 2022

Only 42% of my posts had no tags

#spn - 240 posts

#reblog - 234 posts

#supernatural - 193 posts

#owl with a shotgun - 125 posts

#dean winchester - 89 posts

#sam winchester - 39 posts

#castiel - 22 posts

#asks!! - 22 posts

#hbo spn - 16 posts

#sam winchester speech bubble - 15 posts

Longest Tag: 122 characters

#beyond that its your rich friends dad who you meet twice but gives you turkish delights and tells you your hair looks nice

My Top Posts in 2022:

what about trans Steve?

hi so i already talked about why i think steve is trans but here's how i think he would come out to everyone (yes ik its "unrealistic" but all his friends are queer too it's fine)

robin: i think robin just kind of realized on her own. either that or she realized right after she came out to steve (i think that he would've had some kind of fear she would be attracted to him if she knew, that she would see him as a girl. he would've either told her or she would've had a sort of 'oh.' moment.)

dustin: dustin DEFINITELY hung out at steve's house idc about canon, he probably heard steve's parents talking about him using she/her pronouns and asked steve about it. steve would be scared but since thats his k i d he'd tell dustin.

el: ok hear me out. mind reading. el doesn't really understand transphobia since she grew up in a science cult so she just asks him, completely innocently, when he realized he was a boy. steve would absolutely bluescreen and it would be so funny

max: she was there when el asked

nancy: she and steve canonically had sex i think she'd notice

will: steve hasnt really interacted with will but he probably found out through dustin

i don't think that he would be okay telling anyone else (nancy wouldn't tell mike, eleven might but if she knew how important it was to steve she wouldn't.)

119 notes - Posted June 30, 2022

PLEASE talk about trans steve <3 if you'd like to

i would LOVE to talk about trans steve harrington.

ok so like his canon implied neglectful/absent parents is SO interesting viewing him as a trans man. bc like they were probably the same way before he would've come out, but once he realized he was trans he totally wouldve told himself they were absent because he did something wrong by being trans! it's so important to his character that hes insecure abt his masculinity!! (this is another thing that makes more sense with him as a trans man, similarly to dean winchester. a character that he's really similar to.)

i can totally see him being born in another town, coming out at a pretty young age, and finding ways to pass until bullying got so bad that his parents moved to hawkins. and his parents would still tell people he was a girl, until he looked so much like a cis man and would get so upset about being called female that his parents finally relented. and like?? imagining him changing in locker rooms apart from the other guys (he would've convinced the school that he was a cis man so he could) not just because he's King Steve but also because if any of the other guys found out he'd be dead.

his relationship with nancy is even more important with this lens, because no matter her reputation as a "pretty" girl, she was still mike wheeler's older sister. she was still enough of an outsider that if she knew, no one would believe her.

tldr; steve 'the hair' harrington is transmasc and it's pretty much canon.

142 notes - Posted June 30, 2022

the reason im so attached to the first few seasons of supernatural is because there's something so inherently american gothic about them. like, yes, thats present later on but something about seasons one through five just satisfies this love for american folklore i have

like, especially episodes like 1x11 and 2x08 are just so beautifully, hauntingly American that you can't look away. it's the acknowledgement that there's something there in back roads and old abandoned orchards, it's the collective idea that if you start looking behind you, you'll never stop. and the cinematography only adds to it, the grainy found-footage-esque aesthetic thats especially present in season one. it's in the way that the hotels sam and dean frequent are all the same but with slightly different details, the way all the people interviewed can only come up with halfway-there explainations of what happened.

216 notes - Posted January 5, 2022

will byers went missing four days after mary winchesters death

574 notes - Posted July 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

literally all ash did was be gay, do internet crimes, have a sick ass mullet and get kicked out of mit for fighting. and they fucking killed him.

1,051 notes - Posted March 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years

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foolishly. selfishly. | e. yeager

➳ tags ;; lovesick!eren, pining (mutual but eren centric), childhood friends to lovers, sfw but suggestive towards the end, drinking and weedsmoking, college parties, male oc named haru who plays ex, eren being unbearable, feelings of resentment, yall both a lil dumb, not beta read, intoxication, ouid, eren is campus sweetheart lowkey, fem!reader

➳ wc ;; 3.9k 😃❓

➳ a/n ;; forgive me i think this is the first aot fic ive ever written so if the eren characterization isn’t ur thing.. ah. inspired by the song fools by troye sivan. also maybe part two for like.. actual smut LOL

➳ plot ;; eren yeager has been in love with you his whole life. when rumor comes your ex is gonna try and win you back for good, he decides to swallow his pride and finally tell you how he feels

“You’re down bad, Yeager,”

On his 3rd beer of the night, Eren watches you sway your hips to another heavy-bass hip-hop song. He’s disgruntled to put it lightly, sneering with disdain as you dance and sway to the music. Ymir is behind you, and he can’t tell if that pisses him off more or less.

Armin sighs, gently prying the latest bottle out of an already tipsy Erens hands, giving Jean a look who just snickers.

“You should just confess already, ‘ren,” ― Armin says sagely ― “It’s clearly bothering you,”

Jean speaks again. Connie laughs too, ashing a blunt before handing it back to Jean.

“When is it not bothering him,”

Connie chokes on blunt smoke in the middle of laughing and Eren shoots him a dirty look, to which all Connie does is put his hands defensively. Eren can barely stay mad for that long, given the way he knows that everyone right. Even Jean, who’s a fucking dumbass.

They’re right about how it’s always bothered him and about him down horrendously.

Eren Yeager is... a lot of things.

Stubborn, immature, childish. Among those things, he’s also brave. Lion-hearted. Not smart but strangely kind, always encouraging other people to be a little better. To do a little more with themselves and push past their boundaries. He’s not hypocrite either - more often than not he’s doing a dare or participating in something admittedly reckless.

He approaches everything with the same shrug, a half smile on his mouth - tan skin and green eyes shining brilliantly.

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

It’s his thing at this point. Every video of him that’s gone a little viral on TikTok or on his schools twitter has him saying just that at the beginning. It’s ironic in it’s own right because... a lot of things could happen. He does some pretty stupid shit - like climbing to the top of the deans building or spray-painting cars during holidays

He’s stupidly charming to the point everyone around seems to so easily give up into his whims. He’s never even been suspended. He gets a little slap on the wrist and goes on to live his best life. He’s life of the party and for someone who is so unafraid of consequence - it makes you wonder..

Why the hell hasn’t he confessed his feelings for you?

Eren Yeager thinks of you with even higher regards than the sun. You grew up with him, Armin, and Mikasa on a little street corner - only minutes away from each other. He’s retold the story in his head a million times - you knocked on his door nervously with a plate of cookies and he’d been in love with you ever since.

He can’t remember a time in his life where you weren’t directly influencing him. His parents were ecstatic when he went into highschool with a 4.0 but he only did it because he wanted to follow you into university - as bad as that sounds.

It’d be an understatement to say that he’s.. a little bit in love with you. The two of you are attached to each others hips but a lot of it is Eren absolutely hovering over your every move. Overprotective, overbearing, generally a little unbearable. Everyone around seems appalled by it when they see it but you brush him off so easily, a little shrug and uninterested glance. It’s probably something only you could do.

Armin swears that’s why he even fell for you even harder for you. You seem to look at everything in the world with affection with him as the exception. With everyone else, you’re so.. friendly? Once you’re comfortable - you’re nurturing, kind. The amount of times people have assumed you and Armin were an item just because you were so sweet on him is honestly embarrassing

But that’s just how you are with everyone. With Mikasa, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Historia, Ymir, Reiner... everyone. Everyone he can think of except Eren Yeager.

There was a point you also acted like that with him, actually even more than before - but as Eren’s feelings for you grew, his ability to handle your affection only dwindled. You got in a fight over it during your sophomore year of high school and you told him you’d stop if it made him uncomfortable. Eren, because he’s not very bright, agreed because he wasn’t ready to confess just yet.

And.. in terms of how longing goes, the lack of affection only seemed to make him want it more. You and Eren are still close but just.. best friends close. And Eren wants to be a lot more than best friends close with you. Despite the very small drift in your relationship - he’s still the same old bratty Eren Yeager.

For example, he’s hated every single boy you’ve ever dated in your entire life. Every time a new boyfriend has entered the arena, everyone jokes that before they worry about meeting your parents, they should worry about meeting him. You’ve dated some worthy men in your life, an entire Neuroscience major when you were a sophomore, an athlete, a graduate student. Eren hated all of them, since who could be better for you than him?

Despite his constant protest and disdain for them (which you’ve promptly ignored), your relationship with the Neuroscience major lasted almost an entire year. Eren was insistent with his pestering about it but you weren’t swayed. The reason you broke up is still unclear to him but he didn’t care either.

You never seem particularly heart-broken by any of these break-ups. Historia likes to call you stone cold but you sigh and shrug. They’re good but none of them have been “the one” is what you always say

Eren is just happy you’re single now - after about a year of dating, you’ve come to this party to celebrate with your friends about being free of a relationship and you seem happy. Ymir has her fingers on your hips a little bit more than necessary and a hand on your throat when you lean back to dance. You don’t seem to mind, smiling with all of your teeth as you throw your head back, tipsy.

The way Eren watches you while you dance is telling. Love-sick like cupid himself has shot an arrow through his heart. Everyone knows. Every single person on this campus, every friend, all of your parents combined. Everyone knows this shit but you.

He’s made it his lifes mission to evade this information from your pure, unknowing ears. It’s the one time Eren simply can’t find it in himself to brave. You present to him the one thing he never really faces… consequence.

The reasoning is admittedly unclear on his end about why he hasn’t just said fuck it and confessed. He’s said a number of things about it. He’s not ready, what if you don’t like him back and you never speak to him again, what if you’re upset with him. All of these are valid concerns to the blind-eyed and to the outsider.

But his friends, Armin and Mikasa namely, know much better than his bullshit. He’s ready he’s just terrified. Mikasa has never heard you say it explicitly, but call it intuition that she knows you like Eren back. She told one time in middle school that she liked Eren, but she’s well and over that. She’s literally dating a girl from her Anthro class You won’t listen to her no matter what she says but, she knows that you like Eren. She knows in the way your eyes flutter when he’s around - how your hands reach from him so briefly but the retract from touching him like you’ve agreed on. She can just tell.

They, more than anyone, find this clown show miserable to watch. Armin is too tired to care and Mikasa isn’t really sure how to approach so they do their best from a distance. Armin finds himself placing a hand on Erens shoulder to which Eren slumps forward. Jean sighs at his sorry state.

“C’mon Yeager, how bad could it really be? It’s Y/N... they’re like the nicest person ever,”

Connie gives Jean a look before laughing, rolling his neck a little.

“Yeah to everyone except Yeager,” Connie comments unhelpfully. Eren gives him a little glare, elbows on his knees as he holds his face in his palms. He finds himself folded over a little, palm on cheek as he stares at you.

He can’t even be mad at him… it’s true.

“Why is that, though?” ― Sasha asks, face deep in a bag of Doritos ― “Aren’t you guys childhood friends? Shouldn’t you be like... super close? Armin and Y/N are super close?”

Eren groans again as Armin sighs.

“They got into a fight sophomore year and Eren is overbearing,”

“Am not,”

“Yes, you are, Eren,” Mikasa adds after a long while. Eren gives her a pleading look but she refuses to cut him any slack. Sasha nods like it makes sense and Eren is even more upset by that.

“Well, Yeager - if you never confess, maybe I’ll have to slide on over and - “

Eren’s eyes go hard, brow bone furrowing, eyes losing all of their light.

“I’ll beat the shit out of you if you get near ‘er,” he spits.

Connie doubles over in laughter.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” ― Connie comments, relaxing into his seat ― “But if that’s how you really feel - pretty sure ol’ dude is gonna come back to tryna win her back,”

“Haru is coming here? Seriously?” Armin asks, seemingly perplexed. They have classes in the same building and it was almost a given that he never went out to any parties. He studies his ass off and rarely ever made time to do anything but see you.

“Who the hell is that?”

“Seriously, Eren - you didn’t even learn the dudes name?” Jean asks. Eren squints.

“Haru is her ex-boyfriend,” Mikasa answers. Eren stiffens immediately but Connie pretends not to notice, looking at Armin.

“Yessir. Caught him on campus yesterday, he looked disheveled. Said he was gonna try and get back with her. Gave me a whole speech about her and I had to sit there and pretend like I cared..” Connie says with a yawn. Jean breaks out into a fit of laughs as Armin quickly catches on to Connies scheme.

“Seriously? He’s not very talkative,”

Connie nods and takes a hit of the blunt, blowing it out before continuing.

“Yeah. Apparently, he’s really serious about her. Bought an engagement ring and everything,”

Mikasa cuts in this time, knowing but wanting real confirmation as she stares at Connie.

“Seriously?”

Connie nods, honest and relaxed.

“Seriously,”

Eren sits for a long while processing what Connie has said. His heart might fall of his ass, the way it drops into his stomach.

“Damn… they were only together like a year and he deadass wants to propose? Y/N’s must be something special,” Jean hums. Connie nods.

“Shit, they’ve had Yeager in a trance for damn near 15 years. Gotta be some kinda hex,”

Eren, decidedly, doesn’t hear the rest of the conversation. Instead, he stands up on his feet and stares at you for a while as his friends go quiet.

“Damn,” ― Connie chuckles ― “Did we break him?”

“I’ll be… right back,” Eren says absently, immediately heading towards you. Mikasa almost goes to chase him but Armin keeps her at bay.

“Yeah,” ― Jean sighs, chuckling ― “Definitely broke him,”

—

Eren finds you grinding slow to Brent Faiyaz song with Ymir. Your clothes are much tighter than he’s used too - they show off your figure so much it almost makes him angry but he swallows it down anyway.

“Hey,” ― he says, voice low as Ymir gives him a side eye ― “Could I talk to you real quick?”

You pause your movements, stumbling a little. You smell like perfume and cognac, but you smile anyways as you give him a once over. You brush your hands down your pants.

“Uh.. sure. Did you need something?”

He nods, hands in his pockets. Ymir steps always like she knows something, and maybe she does. She always seems to.

“Yeah.. just for a bit. Sorry to interrupt,”

You shake your head, waving him off as you lean over to give Ymir a kiss on the cheek. Eren swallows the jealousy in his mouth.

“Thanks for dancing with me tonight,” you tell her. She gives you a shrug.

“Thanks for dancing with me baby, take care,”

Before you get in a good wave, Eren decides hearing Ymir call you baby is enough to put him in an early grave and drags you away to the balcony before anything more can happen.

Once you’re out there - view of the whole campus and then some sits beneath you. You’re too busy shaking off Erens rough hands to really notice it, frowning.

“You’re too rough, ‘ren,” you say with a sigh. He almost goes to reach for it but he stops himself.

“Sorry,”

You shake your head

“.. ‘s fine,” ― you tell him, a soft yawn leaving your lips ― “What’s up,”

He stares at you for a long time. He knows that he has to tell you now. That even if it’s unlikely you’ll say yes, you could and then he’ll really lose out.

But he has to know first. He stops and waits, turning to look at you with his hands in his pockets.

“Why.. did you break up with your ex-boyfriend..?”

You seem taken aback by the question. For good reason, since Eren never really takes interest in your love life for anything other than the fact you’re single. Your eyes widen before softening. You go from staring him to the staring at the floor.

“… Why do you wanna know,” ― you say, crossing your arms over your chest uncomfortably ― “That’s unlike you,”

He takes in a sharp breath.

“I’m.. I just wanna know why. You two dated for a year. What happened?”

You feel something bitter inside of you. Something unrequited, a relationship demarcated by distance and unspoken feelings. Memories of Eren’s outburst, of fights about boyfriends and butting heads. It comes rushing back all at once. You grit your teeth.

“I don’t feel like telling you,” you reply, simple and straight-forward. You know that he won’t drop it but you just don’t think you can get in an all of this today. He looks at you like he’s offended by something you’ve done but you hold your ground, crossing your arms under your chest uncomfortably.

“Why not?”

You’re a little too tipsy to figure out a good lie, and you’re already exasperated with his attitude. You’re used to Eren being overbearing but it’s too much for him to do this.

“Because I don’t feel like it and it’s really none of your business,”

“How’s it not my business?”

You glare at him.

“How the hell is it your business?”

He scoffs at you.

“I’m your best friend, obviously it’s my business”

It feels so bitter in your mouth, coppery like the taste of blood when you think of why. When the reason is standing right in front of you with that hardened glare on his brow and that arrogant fucking attitude you have a love-hate relationship. When the reason you broke up is asking you about it even though he’s never cared before. It makes you so angry, these feelings you can’t tell each other.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re my best friend, you’ve never cared before and I don’t know why you decided to now,” ― you say, hands trembling, turning on your heel to leave ― “But I don’t want to talk about it. I’m going back inside,”

You try to leave but Eren has you by the wrist, and he’s so much stronger than you that when you spin around to face him, chest to chest, you leave a little gasp. And he’s looking down at you with fire in his eyes, jaw feather with something sinful. He has you pressed to his chest and the contact overwhelms you. He smells so nice and he’s so strong and it’s making you dizzy.

“Eren,” ― it comes out weaker than you intend, pushing him with your hand on his chest ― “S-stop. I know you don’t like when I touch you but I’m not budging on this,”

For whatever reason, your words seem to make him angrier. More desperate but he lets go and you stumble. You look at him just to make sure he’s okay, watching as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Connie..he said he saw your ex on campus,” ― and he swallows something in his throat. It’s the first your hearing of it so you listen ― “Said.. said that your ex was comin’ here tonight. Said that he was serious about you,”

Your eyes go wide. It’s the most Erens ever cared to know about your relationships.

“That he.. bought you a ring. He’s coming here tonight to win you back,” He explains. You soften a little at the thought.

“...He is?”

Eren runs a hand through his hair, so frustrated he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He stares at you.

“Are you serious about him? Haru, if he comes here tonight.. are you gonna get back with him?”

You raise your brow at him. He doesn’t seem angry anymore just desperate. Almost sad. You scratch your arm, uncomfortably.

“Haru is a good guy, Eren,”

“Answer my question,”

“Eren,” you repeat. He looks at you, strained.

“Please.. just.. answer me. Please,”

You don’t know how to feel but you know you hate the sound of his voice this upset. You shake your head, messing with something in your pockets.

“I dunno,’ren. Maybe. We broke up because I just don’t think we were on the same page, but he’s a good guy,”

Eren takes a step towards and your heart races. You wonder what Auntie fed him to make him grow like this broad and tall and athletic. You blink at him as he looks down at you. A little gasp leaving your lips as he places a hand on your face. Your heart pounds.

“What are you -”

“Don’t say maybe,” he interjects, running his thumb under your eye.

“Eren -”

“Wh-what are you doing, ‘ren? How drunk are you?”

“Don’t get back together with whatever his name is,”

“Haru,”

“Don’t get back with him.

You want to say something. There are so many questions but they remain lodged in your throat, somehwere beyond your reach. You cough a little and his hand is still on your cheek and he’s so close you don’t know what do

“Why not?” you ask finally.

“Because,” he replies childishly. You frown at him, but there’s nothing harsh about it. No matter how he acts, you always find him endearing.

“Because what, Eren?”

“Because..” ― he stops, and closes his eyes, and drops his forehead on yours, arms wrapping around your waist like this is even close to normal ― “Because... it should me your with,”

It feels like the whole world comes to a halt.

“What?” ― you gasp ― “What did you just say?”

He swallows.

“It should be me. Shoulda always been me,”

“Eren, slow down. What are you even saying?”

“I’m saying I’m in love with you. And that you shouldn’t get together with that fucking -”

“His name is Haru,”

“Didn’t ask,” he replies shortly. It’s like his words don’t reach you, too foreign.

“You’re...?” ― you push him back, you try too but he’s so strong so he keeps you right where you are ―”You’re in love with me?”

“Always have been,”

You shake your head like you’re in some kind of dream, pinching yourself to see if you’ll wake up. It feels too real, his voice and his breath like mint and beer and his green eyes and pretty long hair - all of it is too much.

“But then.. during sophmore year,”

“‘s when I realized,”― he explains, voice softer than you’ve ever heard ― “I was too nervous to tell you that when you touched me I thought I was gonna die,”

That makes you laugh and your laugh makes him smile. You settle back down, still lost but he’s so comforting. Your hands end up on his chest and you look at him.

“Been in love with you since we were kids. It was always you and it’ll always be you. I was too scared to tell you but I can’t... can’t let you go like that. I can’t stand it,”

You fidget, dropping your head.

“We uhm.. the reason I always break up with people is ‘cause I was trying to get over you. I didn’t think I..had any chance especially since I thought Mikasa liked you,”

Eren’s eyes widen,a grin breaking out onto his face as he hugs you so hard you yelp.

“Fuck, you’re so cute,”

You let out a little whine but you melt anways because of course you do.

You stay like that for a while. The music blaring, the night going cold - all of it fades into background noise as you sheepishly hold each other. And Eren will squeeze you tight like he’s trying to remember you’re still real.

You pull back, just to look at each other but neither of you can hold your smiles in. You break out into giggles together.

“We’re both stupid, huh?”

“Always have been,”

Your smile settles in your cheeks and it’s too much. But you let him hold you and he seems starved for it.

“Missed touching you,”

You scrunch your nose up.

“That’s dirty, Yeager”

His eyes widen, shaking his head.

“That’s not what I fucking meant -”

“Later,” ― you hum, a little sleepy ― “You can touch me all you want when we get to my dorm,”

His eyes widen and he prays to ever god he can think of that he survives long enough to see heaven like you’ve promised. He swallows.

“R-right. Right,”

You chuckles before leaning up on your tippy-toes.

“For now though.. think it’d nice if you kissed me,”

He lets out a shaky breath.

“Fuck.. Can I?”

You nod.

“Please do,”

And he does, leans down with his hand cradling your neck to kiss you as hard as he can. It’s gentle but messy and needy. Hot mouth pressed against yours, hands moving down to hold and touch you wherever he can. All you can think to yourself is that you’ve never felt it like this before, the electricity running through your whole body. From the tips of your fingers to your toes, you grab his shirt like you can’t get enough. Maybe you can’t.

You kiss for so long and only pull away when you remember you’re supposed to breathe. Lips swollen and his face covered in gloss.

“H-how soon can we get to your dorms?”

You giggle.

“You’re down bad, Yeager,”

He laughs too.

He figures he can’t really deny it now.

You hold onto his arm.

“But we can skip the rest of the night, right now,” ― you say flush ― “If you want,”

“Yeah... yeah I want that,”

#formal #writing tag #eren x reader #aot x reader #eren x you #eren x y/n #aot x you #aot x y/n #aot fluff #uhhh am i missing any #idk lol heres wonderwall

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undiscovered-horizon · 3 years

Text

"Helen of Troy" - Gabriel x Reader

Summary: Gabriel nearly gives in to Rowena's charms, when an unexpected interruption steals his attention. He finally understood why his father made angels kneel before humanity and seeing you made him wish to kneel forever.

Author's note: As 1975 sang - "You make me hard but she makes me weak". There's kind of body worship vibe to this, basically Gabe simping for Reader.

Castiel, Sam and Dean went to the kitchen to talk about the problem of archangel grace, or rather the lack of it. Gabriel was too weak to give them more, and more was exactly what they needed. It was a stalemate situation unless they could somehow convince Dean to use Lucifer, which posed challenges and dangers in and of itself. They completely forgot they had asked (Y/N) to come to the bunker with a few things they were going to need on their (hopefully not) suicide mission.

Rowena and Gabriel stole hesitant glances at each other, pondering about the charms of their unlikely victim of attraction. With their attention, and desire set elsewhere, they couldn't be blamed that they didn't hear the sound of the entrance door opening. Not really.

"Milky skin, body of a dancer..." Honestly, Gabriel could go on for quite a while about what made Rowena enticing to him. The longer he thought about it, the more he grew attached to that desire, to that excitatory tension his body was telling him to reduce.

"Hey guys, could you help me with this?" A tired voice called out from the war room. The interruption threw off the lovers-to-be and with feelings of annoyance at the distraction, they stepped out of the library.

You were just standing at the end of the table, struggling with a big box taped so many times it started to look ridiculous. With a sigh, you set the box on the table, your arms exhausted and sore from the exertion. What on Earth did Sam and Dean need so many things for?

"You must be Gabriel and Rowena," you said with a smile. You could only hope you didn't look as tired as you were feeling. "I'm (Y/N), a friend on weekends and delivery boy on weekdays."

"Oh, sweetie, they must be awful friends. Never said a word about you," Rowena answered.

To Gabriel's ears, your voice was enough to remind him of a tune he really liked. The sound was so oddly familiar and comforting he swore he would know what it was if you just said a few words more. Or, maybe, a few stories more, just to satisfy his heart's yearning. Since when did he feel like that about anyone?

"Well, Dorothy Young, what's in the box?" Although his joke seemed completely normal, Gabriel tried to distract himself from his own thought. Or, rather, buy himself some time to make sense of them.

"Honestly? Sounds like a cake mix for Cthulu's birthday," you patted the over-taped box. "Where are Bonnie and Clyde, anyway?" You asked.

"Kitchen. Troubled with archangel grace," Rowena gave Gabriel a side-eye.

"Well, thank goodness it wasn't on my list," you mumbled and sighed.

"I mean, if you asked nicely..." Gabriel raised his eyebrows at you which earned a soft giggle. A sound he would never guess he would grow so fond of so quickly. Were you a witch too? That somehow, someway, cast a spell on him? No, he would have sensed that. Until, perhaps, you were one and he just had the misfortune of being born with a hex bag for his heart.

"So, guess we're waiting then, huh?" A smile was brought back to your face. Not waiting for the other two, you walked past them and made your way into the library.

Gabriel's eyes followed your steps, and not them only. He took in every detail there was to the appearance of the unexpected guest that created quite a stir inside him. His heart had long forgotten Rowena and her exquisite beauty, there was another prey in sight. Another goddess to worship.

The top you were wearing, lilac and quite see-through, ending a little above your belly button, and the gray leggings you had on, that temptingly showed all the curves and edges. Rowena may have had the body of a dancer but you? Good grief, you looked like a goddess. Maybe Caelus, with a yearning heart, created Venus in your image? He could only hope you weren't in any way psychic, his thoughts being a little too frivolous for a stranger to hear. Especially, if it was them those unsavory secrets revolved around.

He knew the kind of woman you were, how all the stories of jealous stepmothers must have been about you. Gabriel had seen, experienced, his fair share of history and at that moment he realized what you were, what atrocious deeds you could make men do only if you asked.

Rowena might have been Aphrodite but you were the Helen of Troy.

You were sitting at the edge of the table, body contorted in a way only Renaissance muses were able to. Your eyes, your smile, the soft curves of your features, how could Gabriel be sure you weren't actually a painting? A daydream brought to life by the masters of brush? A statue of ancient ideal, chiseled to portray timeless perfection? Women of half your beauty made empires fall over a bouquet of flowers. Now he finally understood why his father made angels kneel before humanity.

But his bewildered heart whispered "more" the longer he stared at your otherwordly beauty, the more he gave in to the selfish, dark desires that somehow occupied his celestial mind. "If men went to war for Helen, what could they do for her?" he wondered.

There was a new goddess to worship and Gabriel knew he was doomed the moment he desired to be her altar: fully devoted to the one true deity. Oh, how he wished to be this god's chosen.

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