#where do you think sam got his puppy dog eyes from? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deanbrainrotwritings · 5 months

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— GIMME HALF

REQUEST : “hi!! I was wondering if you could maybe write an age gap (legal obv) with female!reader × dean winchester where the reader is like in her 20s and dean's in his 40s :) just some rough smut with choking and hair pulling and spitting (if you're comfortable with it) and dean being like super "hungry" for her, like he's waited a long time for it to happen. also lots of dirty talks cause i absolutely love them hahah :) anyways im in love with your writing and all your stories! thanks a lot! <3” — anonymous

PAIRING : dean winchester x professor!reader (f.)

CHARACTERS : miracle, sam winchester

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), angst, enemies to lovers, age gap, voyeurism, smut, oral sex, p in v, praise kink, choking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, rough sex, spitting

WORD COUNT : 8.4k

A/N : devil wears prada song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — chair sex and food play. I wrote this half-asleep while listening to ASMR, like… that’s how I write most of my stories, plus, they’re always written between 00.00-02.40. Doctor Who references, ‘cause I’m a nerd. I got carried away…. Cliffhanger bc I’m cruel.

There were countless pros and cons to having houses built so close together with windows facing the same direction.

Pros: Accidentally seeing your hot neighbour walk around naked in the living room and kitchen. Accidentally catching your hot neighbour jerk off when they think that everyone’s asleep.

Yup, she’s seen all of that and more. All from that nameless, freckled, green-eyed man next door.

Even wholesome things, like him playing with his cute dog, babying the little rascal and spoiling it. Him cooking and baking, being wholeheartedly content with feeding it to the tall, Hazel-eyed puppy dog of a man, the tall man’s gorgeous deaf wife, and his tiny adorable son; the blue-eyed, dreamy dude in a trench coat; and that endearing young boy with blue eyes who looked like a combination of all three of the men.

There were times where she’d seen the green-eyed man dressed as a cowboy and even a princess to entertain the little baby boy—his nephew. For sleepovers with him, he’d read him bedtime stories while being completely animated. He’d build a bunch of forts, with sheets, the couch, pillows, and some Christmas lights. He'd talk to the little boy and hold serious conversations despite neither of them being able to understand each other. He’d teach the young boy and the baby boy how to fix cars—at least he tried to. He’d pack his best friends' lunches every morning with his hair unkempt, half asleep, while sipping on some coffee. He’d even take naps with the baby, treating him as his own son.

He’d do ridiculously endearing things, too, such as baking bread at night when he couldn’t sleep. He'd read books only when he was alone, as if he’d be made fun of by his friends, and she finally understood why. They were either romantic, erotic, or completely nerdy and abstract. He had range. He’d watch cheesy soap operas and rom-com k-dramas when he did chores. He loved to collect things such as Pokémon cards and even legos.

There were a million things he did that she thought were cute. The windows into his house were like the screens of a television, like her favourite character, she got to see him when he’s relaxed and surrounded only by those who love him

As for the cons, we’ll get to that…

When they first moved in, it was about three and a half years ago. She’d been visiting her family in Kansas City for her oldest brother’s birthday in June.

When she returned to Lebanon, they had already settled down. There was a brown and beige Ford pickup truck, a black Subaru—both parked in the front, and a sleek black Impala in the driveway.

The youngest, Jack, waved at her one day when he returned with Cas after buying groceries. Then, Cas awkwardly introduced himself and Jack, and gave her the names of the other two men who were brothers, Sam is the tall one and Dean was the freckled one.

Sam was the most social one. He’d spark up conversation with her whenever he saw her, dropping bits and pieces of information about himself, his brother, his fiancée, Cas, Jack, and Dean’s loyal dog, Miracle.

After seven months of living together, Sam moved out with his wife, Eileen. They’d just gotten married, and they both invited her. She’d gone, the wedding was pretty, cute, and modest. Y/n had spoken to a few of their close family and friends. Dean, however, kept to himself the whole night as if he were grieving. He’d smile occasionally if any of his friends came to him, he was enthusiastic, and then he'd go back into himself.

Four months later, Sam and EIleen returned; she was pregnant. It was a boy, he’d planned on naming him after his big brother, which Y/n thought was adorable. He hadn’t told his brother, but planned on telling him the day his son was born.

Y/n could tell Dean had mixed feelings about his brother’s departure, mostly negative feelings. He loved Eileen and his nephew. But when it was just him, Cas, and Jack, he'd often drink, despite concerned, useless interventions with Cas. Unless Sam, Eileen, and his nephew were there. He’d never even glance at that top-shelf cupboard.

The good thing was that at least Dean was a happy drunk.

The first time she interacted with Dean was a few weeks after she’d returned from Kansas City, she assumed two things: his heart was closed off to new people, and he’s one hot, irritating, grumpy, sour, old man.

It was the spring semester at Kansas University. Y/n was grading her students’ creative, personal essays in the office downstairs. She was perplexed by the small percentage of her students and their inability to use proper grammar or follow the thorough, detailed checklist she created to get them to pass easily.

Just when she thought she’d gotten great at making their lives easy, they return the shittiest, half-assed essays. She felt bad for the bad grades, but since the rest of her students managed to get perfect scores or at least proficient scores, she couldn’t just let them pass.

Loud banging on the door startled her from reading an impressive essay. Her blood ran cold and she scrambled up from her rolling chair, ignoring that she pushed it halfway across the room.

Her socked feet were quiet on the wooden floor, making her way quickly down the hallway until she got to the shelf where she kept her gun. She pressed it against the door and looked through the peephole, then relaxed when she saw Dean.

She was irritated by the loud knocking, though, regardless of how cute he looked when he was clearly pissed off. She opened the door and set the gun down on the table where she usually placed her keys.

“Lady, have you seen the mess you made outside?” Dean asked her, pointing behind him. She stared at him, stunned by how much prettier he looked up close. Her cheeks turned hot, but she looked past him trying to see whatever he was pointing at.

She looked at her red Mustang parked in the front as a reminder to restock the kitchen, then looked close to where his house was. She winced at the mud and the running water from her hose going into his nice lawn.

“Shit,” she murmured, toeing her socks off before moving past Dean to turn the hose off. She got distracted by the mud and the puddles as she pulled the hose, and coiled it back where it should have been. It’s been a while since she last let her bare feet feel this beneath, the smell of wet dirt was amazing, even when it wasn’t caused by rainfall.

“Do you always do shit like this?” He asked from behind, his tone harsh.

She frowned when she turned to look at his furious face, careful to not touch her forehead with her muddy hands when she used her wrist to move hair away from her face.

“I’m sorry,” she apologised, tilting her head at him. He just rolled his eyes at her, then he stared at his lawn, and ran his hand down his face. “Did I do somethin’ else to piss you off?” She asked, looking around to see if there’s anything else she may have forgotten.

“One, your cat’s too damn loud, crying and meowing for my damn dog when you let him out,” he started, which made her blink in confusion. She didn’t expect something like that to get on his nerves. “And B, why the hell do you have cameras facing my place?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, her ego being injured fueled her anger and defensiveness. “Okay, listen, Doctor Who, I said I was sorry, okay?” She could tell her words stunned him by the furrowing of his brows in bewilderment, disarming him and shutting him up. “It’s not my fault your dog likes my cat, too. And the cameras are off, they’re there to scare people, so fuck off,” she snapped before she stop herself.

Dean scoffed at her, “fuck you.” She rolled her eyes at him this time, staring daggers into his back when he turned around to get to his home.

“If you’d fuck me, maybe you wouldnt be such an asshole.” Her snide words made him freeze. He laughed dryly and he turned to face her once more, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Pretty sure I’d still hate you, sweetheart,” he chuckled, crossing his own arms. That stung, even if she didn’t know him personally and half the time she spent romanticising him based on the little bit of information she had. “And I’d rather go fuck some other chick.” She clenched her jaw and breathed in slowly, angry heat began rising up her neck the faster her heart started to beat.

Entirely unintended, she venomously spat, “according to your brother, you haven’t been lucky enough, and you’re not going to be.”

“You talking to my brother about my sex life?” He stepped closer to her, his nostril flaring in anger. Betrayal and hurt crossed his features and she realised her mistake.

“No, just overheard him ‘cause you’re an overbearing douchebag,” she lied smoothly. Truth was, Sam and Eileen did accidentally—drunkenly—tell her how hard it was for Dean to maintain a serious relationship for more than three months. They don’t remember sharing that information. It was easy for her to casually ask about Dean’s love life and availability, masking her attraction to Dean as mere surprise as to how the younger brother got married before the older one. “Makes sense now why no one will sleep with you,” she laughed mockingly, stepping closer to him defiantly.

His face was red now, too. Angry, offended, he rolled his eyes at her smug face and body language. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“Sure, yeah, if that makes you feel better,” she snorted, patting his very nice, broad shoulder with her muddy hand as she made her back into her house. Preoccupied by the small mud-print on his beige Henley, he couldn’t get the last word in or stop her from leaving him flustered in her swampy driveway.

That was the start of a horrible relationship with her neighbour. The neighbour she had a crush on.

He found all kinds of reasons to complain. Big and small. And she secretly did things to piss him off, occasionally sabotaging his plans.

The thing was that deep down, she still liked him, but he made her so angry and frustrated. And it felt good to see him angry and frustrated by things she caused either on purpose or accidentally. Any attention was better than no attention.

Eventually, that all changed. The fun, the it’s-better-than-nothing feeling, it didn’t last. Fourteen months later, she stopped the cruel games and decided to avoid him completely.

When her friends offered to take her out, she agreed, even if she wanted to stay home. If Dean was home, she made sure to never say no to them, and sometimes she’d offer to take them out. Wherever.

She’d started to grade at the cafe, library, or the diner, even if Dean went to all those places often. At least he wouldn’t say anything there around all those people.

When she grew closer to Sam, Cas, and Jack, she’d find excuses not to go over to Dean’s when they offered either food, game nights, movie nights, or random hangouts. They started to notice too—the tension, the avoidance, the hostility—and they’d go over to her place instead, often without Dean, who’d choose to go out to avoid staying home alone.

It was awful. The rejection started to hurt, yet, he had her heart in the palm of his hand. Deep down, she knew that Dean wasn’t a bad person; he just didn’t like her.

Eventually, Dean ended his animosity, too, and everything went back to ‘normal’. She slowly started to reject offers from her friends to test the water, stayed home to grade, and didn't permit her cat to leave even if it cried for an escape. If she took him out, it was with a leash she eventually got him to get used to.

They ignored each other when they crossed paths—in the driveway, at the grocery store, at diners, at the cafe. They acted like complete strangers. She’d keep her curtains closed, at least she did for the windows that face his house. She made her presence as unnoticeable and as invisible as she could to prevent causing more damage to each other.

Then, about two months ago, on Halloween, Sam, Eileen, Cas, and Jack went to her house to collect candy. Sam made a point of staying back while the rest of them walked to where Dean was waiting—looking anywhere but at her house—to convince her to go to his and Eileen’s place for Thanksgiving.

He was honest, cute, wide hazel eyes attempting to convince her to try and make amends with Dean. She didn’t doubt it, when he told her that Dean felt guilty, but her pride was bruised, and her heart was broken. She told Sam she would be visiting her own family for that holiday. She omitted that she’d be going to her mother’s house a few miles away, still in Lebanon. And she easily convinced her mother to let her stay the rest of the week until she had to go back to work.

Now, Christmas was near—in four days, to be exact. It wasn’t the holiday spirit that made her change her mind, it was the hurt and the exhaustion of planning her life around avoiding Dean.

So, she called Sam, she asked if he could do anything to get Dean alone tomorrow.

For the rest of the day, she would start to prepare everything—even though it was Dean who created the mess—she was willing to make the first move and hopefully meet him halfway.

She couldn’t lie that she felt embarrassed by how excited she was to see Dean. She couldn't even differentiate the meaning of the butterflies in her stomach, but she powered through her fluttering heart and her shaking hands as she prepared everything before going to see him.

She considered not doing it at all, calling it quits—but the consequences of that quickly made her miserable. That would just mean more avoidance, more hiding, more changing everything about herself to make him happy.

All of this over one little misunderstanding. One bad day where her mouth ran without consulting her brain first ruined what could have otherwise been a good friendship—perhaps even a romantic relationship.

She was twenty-six and just like Dean, she hadn’t had a serious relationship since… Well, ever. The last time someone convinced her to date them was in highschool, and even before that, it took her a month—or less—to figure out she wanted nothing to do with them. She didn’t like the people she dated. She realised quickly that she didn’t even want a future with them, she didn’t even allow them to kiss her or touch her. So she figured that if she didn’t want to marry them, what was the point of wasting her time?

For so long, the first thing she thought of when she felt attracted to someone was: can I stand the thought of their touch? Can I see myself kissing them, letting them kiss me? Can I stand the thought of the fights and staying with them through thick and thin? Can I picture myself with them in the future, permanently?

The answer was always ‘no’ and the attraction died immediately after the realisation.

With Dean, the answer was different. Not for some stupid reason, like fate, or the boy-next-door trope. No. This was reality, and the real reason was the fact that she got to see who he was before she was attracted to him.

It was the selflessness, the love in everything that he did, the gentleness of his heart, the kindness that radiated from him, and the ease in the way he did chores, the way he made his friends laugh, his playfulness, the loyalty, the way he was clearly protective.

It was the open windows of her house into his open windows that let her see through him, down to his very beautiful core. It was the lack of hidden things, the openness of his soul because he felt safe, unwatched. It was real because Cas, Jack, and Sam were proof that even though Dean wasn’t perfect, he was worth it.

The Doctor did say once: the good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.

For the first time, she was willing to take a chance.

She smoothed down the silky emerald-green dress. It was pretty, flowing down her body perfectly, stopping at the middle of her calves…. Actually, now that she looked at herself in the mirror, her curls perfectly maintained, the light touch of makeup, the heels… was it too much?

She ignored those anxious thoughts and made sure she had everything she needed and everything that she prepared before stepping out into the cold.

The spaghetti straps didn’t stop the cold, but the heat of her nervousness at least did something as she walked up to his door and waited after knocking gently.

When he opened the door, he was stunned to see her.

“What?” He asked bluntly.

She could tell that the way she was dressed caught him off guard. His eyes moved from her face, up to her hair, back down to the boxes in her hands, and lower to her feet.

“I’ve got pie,” she said the first thing her mind thought of. Yes, it was blunt, yes, it disarmed him further… It was not smooth, but Dean looked behind him, and then he looked at her once more while biting his lip before opening the door wider, and stepping out of the way for her to enter.

She exhaled shakily as he scratched the back of his neck. Out of habit, she slipped out of her heels before stepping inside his home, planting her bare feet on the soft, long rug he had. He kindly, wordlessly, took her heels from outside and placed them on the shoe rack he had inside before shutting the door behind her.

She felt so… warm. Finally, she was inside the place she longed to be in. Right where Dean was. Along the walls there were dozens of pictures, but she didn’t go too far, she waited for him.

She felt his presence behind her and it made her shiver, but she couldn’t bring herself to look back at him. Instead, she stared at photos of him with Cas, Sam, Jack, and other people she hadn’t met. Women and Men. Dean was smiling in all of them. And in a large majority of them, they were looking at him while he looked at the camera.

What a funny thing.

“Here,” he said from behind her, his deep voice sounded soft, gentle, unlike the last time they spoke to each other. It made her shudder. “Let me help.” She slowly braced herself when she turned around, staring into his beautiful green eyes, illuminated magically by Christmas lights.

“Thanks,” she whispered, carefully loosening her grip on the objects in her hand for him to take what he wanted—which was everything.

She stepped to the side when he murmured, “no problem,” and started to walk off to the kitchen. She followed him slowly, took a look around, respectfully, curiously, just when she heard the clicking of nails and the thump of paws on wooden floors, and the bark of his dog headed in their direction.

“Miracle,” Dean grunted, setting everything down on the table, “not inside.” While the fluffy dog did stop its excited running, his enthusiasm was not lost as he wagged his tail, and playfully got down on his stomach in front of her feet. Still on his belly, Miracle approached Y/n slowly, paws and tongue at her toes, as if testing the waters.

“Hey,” she greeted softly as she squatted slowly and laughed quietly, gently scratching Miracle’s head as he nudged her hand with his wet nose, staring up at her with adorably wide eyes—much like Sam did. “You’re so cute,” she cooed, her heart warming up when Miracle barked quietly.

He then jumped up and turned towards Dean, who was watching them—perplexed, happy, conflicted.

“You were asleep,” Dean scolded, but sweetly took Miracle’s head in his hands and kissed him between his ears. Miracle whined and stepped away, sitting in front of Dean as if saying ‘I’ll be good if you let me stay’. “Whatever,” Dean groaned with a smile, which made Miracle happy, because he laid his cheek on his paw and stared up at Dean, resting.

Now, it was awkward.

Dean caught her staring at him, her expression inquisitive. She cleared her throat awkwardly, but she couldn’t form words. She only now noticed that he was wearing a faded black shirt and hotdog pyjama pants.

“So…” Dean began instead, “pie.” It wasn’t any better, but it’s as she always said: it was better than nothing.

“Yes,” she confirmed, “strawberry… you weren’t getting ready for bed…?” She inquired, tipping her chin in the direction of his attire.

“Not to sleep,” he reassured her, taking a few steps toward the cupboards to pull out two plates, glass cups, and then some utensils from the lower drawer. “Why are you doing this?” Dean asked quietly from where he was across the kitchen, everything still in his hands.

“I deserve better that’s why,” she snapped. He blinked at her, guilty, but she paused and took a deeper breath. Careful to not smear her eyeliner, she rubbed her temples instead. She reached behind her to wrap her ankle around the leg of a chair to pull it out and sit down. “Sorry, I don’t like… being angry,” she breathed out, looking out his kitchen window into her dark living room. She switched the Christmas lights off. “It's very stressful because I…” She turned to look at him and forgot her words as he came closer.

He looked cuter in person and prettier, still. Three years and nothing has changed, he still had her heart right in his hand.

“Why?” He pressed, placing everything down on the table in front of her. Looking up at him felt intimidating, so she averted her gaze. He was much older than she was… it made her… feel dumb. See-through. Like he could figure her out in seconds.

“Because I’m friends with your friends,” she admitted without looking at him, then she reached out to arrange the plates, cups, and utensils. He sat down thoughtfully, and watched her unstack the small boxes she brought over.

“You’re doing this for them,” he laid out flatly, but he took a seat next to her and stared at her. His eyes on her made her self-conscious, flustered. She bet he could see everything, all the ugly and the weird in her.

“I’m doing this for me,” she corrected him gently, “I just want to be happy,” she sighed, removing the plastic wrap she placed over the pie she baked. “Is that selfish?” She wondered out loud, taking the knife, she stared at it.

“No,” Dean sighed, wrapping his hand around hers to take the knife. She inhaled sharply at the warmth of his touch, his calloused palms brushing against the back of her hand, sending warmth over her chest, pressing into her wrist with her heart excitedly pounding against her ribs.

She released the knife into his hold, trying to hide how much he affected her, but she doubted she could fully do that with the Christmas lights exposing the blush she could feel on her face. She could feel her veins pumping blood faster, caught up with the heavy beating of her heart. If he looked down at her neck, he could probably see it in her veins.

She looked away, down at Miracle who was still peacefully laying on his belly, and Dean looked away towards the beautiful pie to start slicing into it.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, taking her plate to give her the first slice. She looked up at Dean, taking the plate with a generous slice of strawberry pie.

“I wanted to be the first to say it…” She complained playfully, trying to maintain eye contact with him, but his beauty was intimidating, forcing her to look away, “soon as my ego stopped being sensitive,” she added.

Dean laughed softly, placing his own slice on his plate. The sound of his laugh made her smile, her stomach flipped with elation, at the crinkles by his eyes. Her breathy exhale made him look at her.

“Well, I’m forty-four, my ego’s been bruised enough times,” he told her, “I don’t care much for it when…” he trailed off and chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. She bit her lip, too, trying not to stare too long at his pretty mouth.

“Well, thanks,” she murmured, her jaw twitching as she looked away from him.

“I’d consider all this an apology,” he told her, gazing at her as she opened two rectangular boxes. She smiled, shaking her head. She pulled out a bottle of homemade eggnog along with a decorated jar filled with white frosting, and a small container with crushed peppermint candy. “This isn’t… poisoned, right?” He teased, still watching her while she opened the bottle of rum eggnog, she tilted her head at him, amused. “Just making sure… you did make all this…” he trailed off, impressed.

“Taste the pie,” she encouraged as she started making the drinks.

“You’re just trying to shut me up,” he chuckled gruffly, but he picked up his fork and started to dig in. The strawberry filling barely touched his tongue when he moaned, she watched him not even begin to chew. His brows furrowed and he closed his eyes, savouring the pie.

It made her blush, but she focused on covering the rim of the cups he brought with the whiskey frosting she made and the peppermint candy shavings before filling it with eggnog.

“You made the frosting, too?” He asked, tipping his head towards the jar. His mouth was full, some strawberry filling dripped down the corner of his mouth, but he picked it up with his tongue. She licked her lips, trying to stop herself from breathing airily, and passed him the eggnog with a nod and slid the jar of frosting towards him to serve herself some eggnog.

Dean dipped his finger into the frosting, collecting a large amount before wrapping his lips around his finger to suck the frosting off. She forced herself to look away from how hot he looked and ate her own slice of pie instead.

“I’ve seriously been missing out,” he murmured regretfully. “I was real childish,” he told her, “I never should’ve gotten pissed over… everything-”

“Dean,” she interrupted him, giving him a sheepish smile, “you already apologised and I forgive you. Besides, I did things, too.. on purpose… so, I’m sorry.” She pursed her lips and took a sip from her eggnog, swiping her tongue along the sweet frosting.

“You did things on purpose?” He repeated, a smirk on his face. She breathed out a laugh and nodded bashfully. “Why?” he wondered, leaning into her curiously, subtly moving his plate of food towards her. She considered being blunt, but she chose to test him instead.

“Probably the same reason you got pissed at everything I did and didn’t do,” she laughed, pulling a piece of strawberry out of the pie to put it in her mouth.

“I doubt that,” Dean muttered, picking up his own drink, and taking a large gulp. She eyed him closely, her eyes becoming hooded when he licked across his lips after drinking to collect the thin layer of sweetened alcohol on his mouth.

“What was your reason then?” She wondered flirtatiously, her voice low and seductive. She pushed her plate away with her arm., and mimicked his body language, scooting forward in the chair.

She watched as his eyes darkened and his jaw clenched, his hand tightening around his fork before he dropped it. She’d never quite been stared at that way before, but it suddenly—almost, made her laugh. Her legs felt weak, her stomach heavy, almost fooling her into thinking she couldn’t get up, but she did.

With a rapid heart and shaky knees, she pushed her chair back, and Miracle lifted his head in alarm. Dean leaned back in his chair, sliding his palms up his thighs, and watched hungrily as she lifted her dress up her legs, squeezing in front of him and part of the table to sit on his lap.

“Seems like we’ve both been missing out on a lot of stuff,” she whispered, her stomach fluttering for a variety of reasons, but mostly from excitement. He bit his lip, eyes twinkling as he placed his hands slowly on her thighs. She sank her teeth down on her lip, too, breathing heavily when his hands began sliding up her thighs, lifting her dress higher, and higher.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, continuing to move her dress up until his hands were wrapped around her hips where he could realise she wasn’t wearing any underwear. “I thought I should tell you, before I ruin you,” he rasped, tightening his hold on her hips.

“Fuck,” she moaned, moving forward in his lap until their hips were pressed together. She brought her hands into his hair, and pulled it gently, bringing her mouth close to his, but she never kissed him. She breathed against his lips and when he leaned forward to kiss her, she pulled back teasingly.

“You’re seriously gonna make me wait?” He whispered, slowly rolling his hips up into her, his hard cock pressing into her wet core. She gasped softly against his mouth and laughed breathlessly.

“You feel good,” she praised, flushing as she ground against him harder.

“I’d feel better inside you,” he smirked, sliding one of his hands farther up her dress, his warm palm flattening up her stomach reverently, stopping beneath her breasts..

“I bet,” she moaned, arching into his touch before finally pressing her tinted lips against his. Dean moaned softly against her mouth, pressing against her hungrily, then lifted her up, carefully moving his plate and cup aside to lay her down on the table.

“Miracle, bed,” Dean ordered when he pulled away from her lips. The dog obediently stood up and excitedly made his way to where Dean’s room was. Dean kissed her once more, drawing her attention away from Miracle and back to him.

She’d never been kissed the way Dean kissed her or touched the way Dean touched her. His hands were everywhere, testing, learning, skillful. He scratched her skin sending sparks down to her already soaked core, kneading her body roughly until she moaned against his mouth. He squeezed her and made her wet. He dug his blunt nails into her and made her nerves ignite. His hands smoothed across her, sailing over her body like she were an ocean and he was a sailor.

He was desperate, devouring her mouth with his tongue and his teeth, putting his all into the kiss, licking her lips, teasing the inside of her mouth, brushing against her warm tongue. He yearned to memorise the taste of her mouth, to feel close to her, pressing and moaning against her the way he’d done when he ate the pie and frosting. He nibbled on her lips, tugging, biting, claiming, taking the air from her lungs and pulling away at the perfect time.

He rolled his hips into her frantically and finally started to move away from her now-swollen lips, the colour of her raspberry tint robbed and replaced by the redness of his kiss.

He dragged his teeth teasingly along her jaw and licked his way down her neck, pressing his stubbled face into her neck, kissing and sucking softly, searching. She rolled her head to the side, giving him all the access he needed, until finally, she moaned loudly when he sucked into her sweetspot. He smiled against her throat, feeling her take handfuls of his shirt, her hips wiggling impatiently beneath him.

He kissed lower still, then back up to the other side of her neck, and bit her collarbones, kissing every inch of her skin, her shoulders and her sternum. She loved every second of it and slipped her hands beneath his shirt, touching and scratching his skin, pulling him closer as he bucked into her bare core.

“Did you know your shirt was see-through when we first met?” He whispered into her cleavage. She laughed and replied with a breathless ‘no’. “Well.. your tits on display, legs bare in those tiny shorts, all pissed as hell… it was hot,” he chuckled, lowering the thin straps of her dress until the top started to reveal her breasts.

“Is that why you jerked off that night?” She asked, gripping his hair and tugging hard. He grunted and laughed, staring into her lustful eyes.

“You saw?” He teased, bringing his hand to her breast, squeezing roughly. “The answer’s yes.. And everytime after that, it was also ‘cause of you,” Dean confessed, “couldn’t stop thinking about you, every day and every night. I thought I hated you, but I guess I just needed to fuck you.”

She chuckled, gripping the hem of his shirt, dragging it up his body as he latched onto her nipple. She hummed softly, tugging hard at his hair, in complete bliss as he wrapped his mouth around the bud, licking, sucking, and biting until she whimpered for him to give her more—which was impossible. He moved onto her other breast, savouring her warm skin with his hotter mouth, tugging her neglected nipple with his fingers, twisting and pinching.

“Please,” she moaned, yanking his hair so he’d pull away. Dean growled against her flesh and bit down hard on her breast, before pulling away, drawing a mewl from her of his name.

“You could be nicer,” he muttered, allowing her to lift his shirt up off his body, but he continued to kiss her breasts, sucking gently around the flesh to leave red marks. He lifted her feet up on the table and pressed her thighs close to her chest, opening her up to admire her soaked sex.

“We’re long past nice, pretty boy,” she teased blushing and biting her lip when he stood up straight. She didn’t look at him, too insecure to watch him as he brought his hand to the inside of her thighs, teasing her vulva.

“You think I’m pretty?” He grinned, circling her entrance, moaning at copious amounts of arousal on his fingers. “So wet… you that needy for my cock inside you?” He asked smugly.

She looked at him now, heat flooding up her face at his obscene words. Before she could say anything about it, the tattoo on his chest drew her attention away from the adorable pride on his face.

“You’re a hunter,” she stated, stunned, blinking at him with a smile. He looked down at himself then at her, speechless. She lifted her hips and hitched her dress up higher to reveal her ribcage where she had the same tattoo, twice as small.

“You’re a professor,” he remarked with arousal on his face, pushing his finger into her. He lowered himself down her body and wrapped his arm around her legs, holding her open as he breathed warmly against her wet cunt.

Before she could close her legs to him demurely, Dean dove in, his mouth hot on her pussy. He ate her out the same way he kissed her, teeth making her whimper, his tongue parting and tasting, picking up the flavour of her wetness as she moaned.

He salivated on her, humming in satisfaction while he sucked her clit into his mouth while he fingered her. Her hands found his hair once more, pulling hard and almost painfully, but his cock jumped each time inside the thin material of his pyjamas. Dean added a second finger as he moaned against her swollen clit, knuckles deep, pressing against the front of her textured walls, drawing silent moans from her, making her squirm more and more.

“Fuck,” she panted, “you’re so good,” she praised, flexing her hand above his head before gripping at the honey strands. He slurped lewdly, devouring her pussy, squeezing her hips desperately holding her close to his face while she pushed him harder against her cunt. “Dean… I’m close,” she moaned, closing her legs around his head.

He moaned again, adding another finger, shoving deep as he circled her swollen clit with his tongue, drawing figures on her clit possessively. She gasped loudly and cried out his name, tensing up when she orgasmed, her walls clamping down on his three fingers. The rapture of her orgasm seemed endless as he continued to tongue at her clit, it made her writhe uncontrollably, and he smirked against her pussy.

Her whiny laugh and the way she squeezed his head to stop him made him chuckle, and he tapped her thigh once he pulled his fingers from within her pulsing walls. She released him, melting into the table while he licked his fingers clean of her release.

“You taste good,” he told her earnestly, “so fucking good.” She bit her lip, giving him a look of disbelief. He narrowed his eyes at her, leaning down to lick a long stripe up her pussy, then down, pushing his tongue past her clenching, wet hole.

“Dean, fucking…” she moaned, “oh, God, why does that feel good?” She snickered, then he pulled away hovering above her. She opened her eyes to his smug face, his clean fingers squeezed her cheeks roughly until she opened her mouth. She furrowed her brows, whining out with her hands around his wrist so he’d release, but she shut up when he spit in her mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he ordered, licking his lips. Her pupils dilated as she looked into his eyes, the tangy taste of herself made her mouth water and she swallowed. “D’you know how hot you are?” He asked rhetorically, kissing her roughly once more, ravenous and stopped only when he felt her hands pushing his pants down his legs.

“I want you, Dean,” she whispered against his mouth, biting his lip before returning the passion of his kiss.

“Where?” He asked teasingly, wrapping his arm around her waist, he sat her up on the table and gently held her face in his hands, before releasing her to strip completely.

“I want you inside me,” she told him coquettishly, hopping off the table to slowly let her dress pool around her feet. “I want to ride you, to feel you stretch me open…” she walked towards him, watching him completely aroused, a look of pleasant surprise on his face, “I want you to fill me up, and make me cum on your cock…” she licked her lips, staring down at his cock, erect and leaking precum. “... I’ve never seen a dick this nice,” she told him, wrapping her hand around the base and stepping closer to him.

He grunted, “suck it then.” She laughed through her nose, releasing his cock to fondle his balls. He moaned, stumbling slightly. “I’ve been wanting to shut you up with my cock in your mouth,” he told her, a smirk on his face, “now, I’m just thinking how pretty you’ll look with your lips wrapped around me.” Dean reached up and curled his fingers around the back of her neck.

She looked behind him, removed her hand, and tipped her head to the chair, “sit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned, kicking the chair towards him like she had earlier, then he sat, legs wide and tempting. “You’re sexier than you were in my imagination,” he told her, watching her get down between his legs, kissing his thighs while looking up at him through her curled lashes.

“Keep talkin’,” she grinned up at him, taking his heavy cock in her hand once more. Dean gave her a sexy look, smug and aroused.

“I wanna finish in your mouth,” he told her, “want to see you swallow my load.” Pleased, she moved forward and began kissing and licking the length of his cock, teasingly and experimentally feeling the velvety, veiny texture against her hand, tongue, and lips. “I want to hear you choke on my cock, and see what you look like with tears in your eyes as I fuck your pretty face.” She moaned softly, intrigued by the description of his fantasy.

She dipped her tongue into the slit, moaning at the taste of his precum, drooling over the soft head of his cock before sucking him into her mouth.

“Fuck,” he moaned, tangling his fingers in her hair. She slowly took him deeper, pulling him out of her hot mouth teasingly, then swallowing inch by inch of his hard cock. “You’re so good at that, baby,” he panted, letting her take her time at her own pace, but he gripped her hair tightly. “Don’t stop,” he moaned, staring into her eyes as she continued to take his cock, bobbing her head, not stopping until he hit the back of her throat. She swallowed around him, and he bucked his hips up, releasing a whispered curse, attempting to keep his eyes open to watch her suck him off.

She got comfortable between his legs, taking his freehand to put it in her hair. He took her hair, put it together, and waited for her permission before slowly lifting his hips, pushing his cock slowly into her throat. When she gagged, he slowly pulled back, then pushed back into her, lips parted, releasing quick breaths.

Eventually, he started to fuck her face in earnest, lifting his hip up off the chair, pulling her hair hard to guide her on and off his dick. Her spit dribbled down her chin in a mixture of his precum. She swallowed as much as she could, moaning and blinking tears that tickled her eyes and her jaw.

“You look so fucking…” he chocked on a moan, “so damn sexy.”

She ignored the soreness of her jaw, relaxing it as best as she could as he fucked her near mercilessly. Her pussy throbbed with every sound of his pleasure, clit aching for attention at the way he gazed down at her with burning desire, but she refused to touch herself, enjoying the build-up, the desperation for another orgasm, for his touch.

He throbbed in her mouth, turning to mush beneath her mouth. He even began to whimper and moan her name, praises and dirty words becoming scarce in attempts to hold back his orgasm, edging himself with her mouth. It didn’t take long for him to hold her with her nose against his pelvis breathlessly.

He pulled her off his cock, and released her hair to wipe tears tenderly from her hot cheeks with his thumbs, trying to get his mind off the near-pleasure of her mouth around his cock while catching his breath.

“Yummy,” she rasped, pulling a breathless laugh from him. She wiped her chin with her shoulder and smiled up at him, slowly getting up on her knees to get rid of the ache of sitting on her legs.

She got up, leaning back against the table, admiring him in his red, flushed, somewhat sweaty state. His hair was a mess from her hands and he had a blush around his neck to his ears. She knew the hardness of his body accounted for the fact that he was a hunter, as well as the scars she felt beneath her soft hands, bite marks, bullet wounds, and healed slashes.

“Come closer,” she told him and he laughed, bringing himself and the chair closer, stopping when she sat on his thighs, fixing herself over his strong thighs. “Gonna cum if I tease you?” She asked, tapping the head of his cock. It twitched instantly and he moaned.

“Depends,” he replied breathily, sliding his hands up her body. She hummed softly, spreading her legs, positioning his cock near her soppy folds.

“On what?” She cackled playfully, parting her folds with one hand, circling her clit with her fingers. He watched her lustfully, the wetness that made her pussy shine coated her fingers.

“How wet and warm you feel on my cock,” he replied truthfully. He grabbed her hand and moved it out of the way anyway, taking his cock to push it between her folds, pressing the tip against her clit.

“Fuck, Dean,” she moaned softly, grasping his shoulders, “you feel… I need you,” she whimpered, rolling her hips along the length of his cock. He moaned with her, moving her hips closer to him, her wetness coating his cock.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart…” Dean moaned, watching her lean back against the table, positioning the soft head of his cock to her entrance. Completely enthralled, he watched himself slip inside her, and she watched him, biting her lip hard in concentration, the stretch of her walls around him almost painful. “Fuck… I can feel how bad you need me… I need you just as bad,” he panted, flexing his hands on her thighs, desperately trying not to thrust up into her warmth. He dug his nails into her flesh, his head tipping back, his hips rolling up.

“Dean,” she moaned again, starting to lift herself up and down his cock, reaching up to cup her breast. “Shit, you feel amazing,” she breathed out, grinding her hips against his until he was fully inside her.

“You okay?” He asked, one of hands drifting up to knead her breast comfortingly. She nodded, buried her fingers in his hair and brought him in for a kiss as she bent her knees, and tucked her feet in between his thighs.

“I could cum like this,” she mumbled against his lips. His chuckle rumbled through his chest and he shook his head, her pussy clenched at the sound and she started to lift herself up again.

“Don’t worry,” he told her, sucking on his lip momentarily. “I’ll make you cum so hard…” He paused to moan, thrusting up into her slowly, meeting her hip. “...you’ll never want to fuck anyone else,” he promised her, building up the pace of his thrusts until she stopped moving with him altogether, letting him fuck up into her needy cunt.

“You’ll only wanna be fucked by me,” he continued, watching her lean back with her elbow on the table, her hands roaming his warm body, “and I’ll be there, ready to fuck you hard.” He looked over her shoulder, at the jar of frosting. “Pounding into your sweet cunt,” he swore breathlessly, reaching behind her, dipping his fingers to gather frosting, “makin’ you beg, makin’ you impossibly wet.” He smeared frosting over her nipples, over her collarbone, her sternum, until he had no more while she moaned his name needily.

“Makin’ you feel things you’ve never felt before.” He gripped her hip with frosting-coated fingers, leaning forward to lick and suck the whiskey frosting from her body. “I’ll fill you up as many times as you want,” he vowed, smoothing her hand up her back, into her hair once more, pulling until she whined his name. “I’ll fuck you wherever you want.”

Her pussy continued to gush over Dean’s cock the more he talked—his breathless, husky voice taking her over the edge. Each rough pull of her hair made her mewl and whimper as she rolled her hips desperately against his.

“Dean, please,” she whispered, scratching down his back, digging marks into his skin the harder and faster he thrusted into her. Loud skin slapping, the wet sound of her pussy being penetrated, with every push of his cock in and out of her, squelching and driving her crazy. She dug her nails into her palm, making obscene sounds that made her self-conscious.

“I’ll fuck you all over your house, all over mine.” Another moan of his name, another rough pull of her hair. “I’ll fuck you in my car, in your car, anywhere and all over town.” He pulled away from her sticky chest, licked his lips at the sight of her, so she screwed her eyes shut. She felt a warm pool of wetness on her pelvic bone, opened her eyes to him spitting between their bodies, watching his saliva drip down her folds to her clit.

She’d never heard of or experienced sex quite this raw and dirty.

“I’ll make you scream my name, make you forget how to talk, how to walk…” She leaned back into him, panting into his ear, keeping him close while rubbing her clit. He yanked her hair, forcing her to look at him.

“Dean…”

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispered, closing his eyes, he breathed against her lips, “and I want you forever.”

As he promised, she cried out his name when she came, squeezing his cock hard, coating him in her release. He grunted her name, cursing loudly as he came inside her, his hot seed spurting into her, filling her as he said he would.

He circled his arms around her as she writhed once more, releasing her hair as she put her arms around his neck, panting and catching her breath until the pleasure subsided.

“I want all of that,” she murmured after a few moments of silence, kissing his cheek. He squeezed her and moved back, bewildered. He moved hair from her face and tilted his head at her, drawn to her nakedness, her flushed beauty. “First, I want to shower…” Slowly, carefully, she climbed off his lap, her legs shaky, her pussy releasing the mixture of their pleasure.

“That’s a good start,” he told her softly. “Son of a bitch,” he mumbled when he stood up from the chair and looked around at the mess in the kitchen. “No one’s coming home anytime soon… thanks to Sammy…” Dean trailed off, smoothing his hand over his head to fix his hair.

“Thanks to me,” she came clean with a shy smile, bringing his gaze up to hers. His eyes twinkled and he laughed loudly, tugging her towards him again by her arm, his lips pressing against hers.

➥ sempiternal

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nicoline1998enilocin · 10 months

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''I'm in love with you, you grump!''

PAIRING | Bucky Barnes x Shy!Avenger!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.6K

SUMMARY | You're currently on a mission with Sam and Bucky, so in order to blow of some steam the three of you decide to go to a bar. During the evening Sam brings up the topic of your dating life, and suddenly Bucky gets very grumpy, but you can't seem to figure out why. You're not exactly comfortable with the topic either, but his reaction seems a bit much in your eyes.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Reader is a bit shy, with a hint of social anxiety, Bucky and Reader are oblivious to each other's feelings, Sam is a bit of an instigator, confessed romantic feelings.

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

''Hey doll, want to join us at the bar? We're heading there later and Sam and I thought it might be fun to go all together,'' Bucky asked, even though he knew full well Sam didn't mind either way. ''Uh, do I have to...? I'd rather stay at the hotel, Buck,'' you tried, you weren't a big fan of going out, let alone going to a crowded bar on a Saturday evening. Every time they are going somewhere they try to get you to come with them, but you're not much of an outgoing person, or a people-person, for that matter. Sure, you were fine around Bucky, but the two of you spend a lot of time together, but you rarely hang out with Sam aside from missions.

''Please?'' Bucky asked with big puppy dog eyes, and as much as you didn't want to say no, you couldn't resist. ''Fine, but I won't dress up or anything, and I will stay for only an hour, that's it. ''It wouldn't want it any other way, doll,'' he said as he put his hand on your hip and he put a small kiss on your forehead as a thank you, which sets your inside completely ablaze at just the simplest of touches. This crush you had on Bucky is getting out of hand, and you don't know how much longer you can hold it in before you snap and accidentally tell him how you feel.

The weather is very nice where your mission is located, so you opt to go for a simple summer dress and a pair of Converse, your hair in a simple ponytail, and very little make-up. The dress shows a little more skin than you're used to, but you've been trying to step out of your comfort zone a little bit, trying to get rid of your shy-girl persona and instead being the badass you know you can be. This seems like a good start in your mind, and not much later all three of you are heading to a bar, you're clinging to Bucky's arm as if your life depends on it. ''You okay, doll?'' he whispered in your ear, you must have been squeezing harder than intended. ''Uh, yeah I guess,'' you muttered.

God, you were feeling very uncomfortable, not just with your outfit choice, but with everything around you. There were too many people doing who knows what, and the air in the bar seems a little bit constricting, but you promised Bucky an hour so that's the least you will do for him. In all honesty, you'd do almost anything for him if he asked, but that's mainly due to this crush you've had on Bucky, which honestly feels more like you've fallen head over heels in love with the super soldier, the more you think about it. When the three of you arrive at the bar you immediately go seek out a place to sit, and much to your relief, you find a booth in a quiet part of the bar.

''Can I get you guys anything to drink?'' Bucky asked and you just nodded, Sam ordered a beer. ''Anything specific you might like?'' he smiled at you, turning a bit flustered and red at the question. ''Uh... I- uh, I'll take a beer too, please,'' you stuttered, hoping the floor would just open up and swallow you whole right then and there. ''Alright, three beers coming right up,'' he said as he walked to the bar. Neither you nor Sam said anything while he was away, and you didn't mind. You got your phone out of your bag and started scrolling through social media to keep your mind a little busy until Bucky came back. Not long after he returned, handing you your beer and you gave him a smile as a thank you.

''So, anything new with you guys?'' Sam asked, and he and Bucky were in a conversation about something you didn't particularly care for, so you were just picking at the label on your bottle. This was how it usually went and also the reason you'd rather have stayed back at the hotel. You were deep in thought and didn't notice the men across from you were looking at you expectantly. ''Uh, sorry, did you- did you ask something?'' you said as you turned bright red, not looking either of them in their eyes because you were embarrassed. ''It's okay, Y/N, no need to be shy!'' Sam said, which only made you feel worse. ''I asked if there's anything new in your dating life,'' he said again, and it didn't help much.

''Uh, no, yeah, I have been on a few dates, but it wasn't going anywhere,'' you said, mostly because you were afraid to text them back after the date, and it never got past one, if you didn't walk out during the date itself. ''You know how it goes,'' you said with a shy chuckle, which immediately died down as soon as it left your throat, you were feeling extremely uncomfortable. The main reason it never went anywhere however, is because they weren't Bucky, but you would never admit that to anyone, the bond you have with him is special and you don't want to risk losing that connection you two share.

The moment you finished your answer you immediately dropped your eyes down, to where your fingers were still picking at the corners of the label on your bottle. Because you did this you didn't see the way Bucky's face dropped at the mention of you going on dates, you never told him that and he wasn't all too happy with it in all honesty. He got up and stomped out of the bar, he needed some fresh air to clear his mind a little bit because he almost told you he wishes you would have gone on a date with him, and he didn't want to tell you like that. You quickly went after him after apologizing to Sam.

''Buck, what's wrong?'' you asked as you grabbed his arm when you were both outside. He pulled his arm away from you and ran his hands through his hair to make sure he wouldn't do anything stupid right now. ''Why didn't you tell me why you went on dates? I always tell you everything, even when I have a date,'' Bucky said, not sure why he would emphasize that part exactly. ''I-, I'm sorry, I just didn't want to mention it, in case it would make you uncomfortable. I mostly went on those dates to get you out of my head, but it never worked,'' you said now that you got a sudden confidence boost. You don't have a single clue where it came from, but you would embrace it for however long it lasted.

''Why-, wait, get me out of your head? Did I ever do anything to hurt or upset you for you to need me out of your head?'' he said and he slowly started spiraling a little bit. ''Buck, no, please look at me, you never did anything wrong-'' you said but his face said all you needed to know. He started pacing back and forth over the sidewalk and didn't look at you, so you took measures into your own hands by grabbing his arms. ''Bucky, look at me, please! I never told you I went on dates because I'm in love with you, you grump! I have been head over heels for you ever since we first met, and that's why I never told you. I thought that if I went on dates, I would get those thoughts and feelings out of my head, but they never did,'' you explained, finally looking into his eyes as you confessed your feelings. What Bucky did next honestly surprised you to your core.

''I'm in love with you too, doll, fuck it feels good to finally say it out loud! I've been trying to keep it shoved away because I thought you didn't feel the same, but now that I know you do, I just want to tell you a thousand, no a hundred thousand times how much I love you, and how in love I am with you!'' he said as he let out a nervous laugh, he was completely overcome with relief and still finds it hard to believe your feelings are out in the open now. On a whim he grabbed your face and placed his lips onto yours, hoping that if it was a dream, he would have at least felt your lips at least once, but it isn't a dream, it was real, and you couldn't be happier.

''Thank god, now I can finally breathe normally around you guys!'' Sam exclaimed as he walked out of the bar with a huge grin on his face. You and Bucky quickly pulled apart and let each other go, mostly out of reflex as it kind of felt like he caught the two of you doing something unspeakable. ''Don't stop on my account, I don't care what the two of you do as long as you both keep it in your pants,'' he said and you turned bright red and you stared at the pavement, you would never get used to comments like that. ''Doll, can you look at me?'' Bucky said as he placed a finger under your chin and lifted it to meet his gaze. ''I love you, and I will never let you go now that I know you love me too,'' he said, sealing it with another soft kiss on your lips. You felt truly happy in this moment, and wouldn't change it for the world.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fluff

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spnexploration · 4 months

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Happy birthday Dean Winchester! Here's a quick one-shot I whipped up to celebrate.

This also fulfils the 'Plus Size' square of my @spnaubingo 2023 bingo card, even though it's 2024... I'm late, I know, but I still want to do some more of it!

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus sized!reader

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: Couple of crap comments from a random, some not-great self-esteem and a drunk character, but nothing particularly bad.

Synopsis: A man you're interviewing makes some crap comments about your body, and Dean doesn't help. Can he make it up to you?

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“Which one’s the father?” The sleazy guy joked. My stomach dropped.

“Excuse me?!”

“Oh, it’s alright love, I know the real father’s probably suffering somewhere alone while you’re off gallivanting with your workmates. I’m surprised he lets you out, really.”

The urge to punch the witness we were interviewing was overwhelming. Rather than ruin the case, I turned on my heel and marched out.

Fuck that guy. I’m not pregnant and I’m not screwing either of the Winchesters.

I heard Dean’s FBI agent tone of voice as he started speaking behind me. Great to see they were all just moving on with their lives, I thought sarcastically.

---

📱 Where are you? We’re going to the next witness’s house

A text came in from Dean. I read it but didn’t reply.

📱 You ok?

I sighed. Finally, he asks.

📱 Fine. I’ll catch up with you later

I replied. He sent me a thumbs up, I rolled my eyes.

I kicked at the ground and started the walk back into town. Sam and Dean would probably try and make me feel better, but I knew that wasn’t happening. I looked down at my soft, flabby belly that I’d tried multiple times to lose.

I walked.

---

I felt a bit absurd, getting tipsy this early. It wasn’t that I felt like I had to drink to get over the comment. It was just that I’d gotten back to the motel room and was feeling a bit morose, and there was nothing to do. I’d tapped out of the case and I was bored. I went for another wander and this stupid town had nothing in it but a pub, and so somehow I’d ended up here, starting drinking a lot earlier than normal.

And now I looked like I was drinking my feelings, when I wasn’t.

Not that there was anyone looking at me anyway.

Well, except in disgust. Who knew how many more people in here thought I was pregnant too. Probably thought I was harming an unborn baby, right now.

Fuck them.

---

“You know there’s still a monster on the loose?” Dean said gruffly, a frown on his face. I guess it’d been easy to find me given how few things there were in this town.

“You struggling without me?” I didn’t think I was slurring too much, but his expression did not improve when I started talking.

“How you going to fight one off like this?” he gestured to me.

“You think a few drinks are why I’m fat?” I said sarcastically.

“I’m not calling you fat, I’m calling you drunk.”

“Right,” I said with an eyeroll.

“Come on, get in the car,” he said, trying to tug my arm.

“Fuck off Dean! I can drink if I want to. There’s nothing else to do in this shithole, anyway.”

He dropped my arm and stomped off to the bar.

I turned back to my drink. Sam came and sat opposite me. You can’t escape the bloody Winchesters.

“Hey, you ok?” he asked with his puppy dog eyes.

“I’m fine. I had a free afternoon, I came to get a drink. Is that fucking crime now?”

“I meant about what happened with the guy. You seemed pretty upset.”

“Surprised you could see that, you were both so busy being silent.”

“Didn’t you hear Dean?”

“How could I hear Dean when he wasn’t saying anything?”

“No, he laid right into the guy.”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better. I heard Dean get right back into his FBI voice as I walked off.”

“Yeah, he was still in character at first, told the guy that he needed to speak respectfully to Agents. And then when the guy was still a douche he got a bit more Dean and threatened to punch his lights out if he didn’t shut up about you.”

I laughed into my drink. I was sure Sam was embellishing, there was just no way Dean would care that much about someone being mean to me.

Speak of the devil, Dean appeared again, tumbler of whiskey in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He put the water in front of me.

“Thanks, but I don’t accept drinks from strangers,” I said sarcastically.

“I’m not having you hung over tomorrow and being a liability to the case, drink the water.”

“I don’t remember electing you.”

“Jesus, you’re even more belligerent when drunk. Just drink the water and stop moping.”

“I’m not moping!”

“The guy was an asshole, no one thinks you look pregnant. But you can’t just drink yourself blotto and get yourself killed every time someone says something mean to you.”

I stood up, grabbed the glass of water and upended it all over Dean’s face. Then I marched out the door.

The effect was a little ruined by my drunken stagger, though.

---

Sam caught my arm as I got outside. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

“I walked myself here, I can walk myself home!”

“I’m pretty sure you were walking in a straight line when you got here though. Come on.”

I let him tug me to the Impala. He must’ve grabbed the keys off Dean before chasing after me.

“He’s just worried about you,” he said gently as we were exiting the carpark. “Doesn’t want you getting hurt.”

“That does not give him a free pass to behave like that.”

---

Dean stood over me, a glass of water and a couple of painkillers in his hands. “Morning, sunshine. Need some relief?”

I gratefully reached out. Man, I did not normally drink that much.

“What time is it?”

“Time to work the case.”

I groaned, “Can’t you do it without me?”

“No, come on, back on the horse.”

“It’s not the horse that’s the problem, it’s the dog that bit me.”

“I did tell you to drink water,” he said smugly.

“Fuck off!” I threw my pillow at him. He easily deflected but wisely left me alone after that.

I groaned and got off the couch I’d been sleeping on, slumping to the bathroom. The boys were sitting around the tiny table, already dressed and looking at their laptops.

Sam was gone when I came out, freshly showered, dressed and feeling slightly more human. I looked at Dean with a clear question on my face.

“He’s gone for coffee, thought you could use some.”

“Thanks.”

“I, uh,” Dean continued, more hesitantly, “I owe you an apology.”

I crossed my arms across my chest. An apology from Dean was a rare thing, but I was wary it was going to end up being a backhanded insult instead. I often felt like I needed to protect my heart from being hurt by him.

“I was worried about you getting hurt when I saw you were drunk. But I just tried to solve the problem, I didn’t actually talk to you, and I,” he paused, biting his lip, “I shouldn’t do that.”

“Nice to see I’m just a problem,” I replied sarcastically. I wasn’t sure why he was riling me so much, but I still felt so hurt and angry.

He stood up and came over to me. “You’re not a problem,” he said quietly, trying to look into my eyes. I ducked my head away from the intensity of his look. “And I am sorry that asshat upset you.”

“I didn’t get drunk just because some guy called me pregnant, you know.” I could hear how defensive I sounded, despite my best efforts not to.

“It’s a shitty thing he did anyway. You’re beautiful.”

I laughed mirthlessly.

“Don’t do that,” he said quietly. “Don’t put yourself down all the time.”

“Dean, your idea of beautiful is tall, thin, busty and great hair.”

“That’s not true.”

“Well, they’re all thin at least.”

“Who are ‘they’?”

“The women you sleep with, the women you hit on.”

“I can think of many women I’ve hit on who aren’t ‘thin’, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Suuuure,” I said with an eye roll.

“But I haven’t hit on many women lately, been distracted by one in particular.”

“Let me guess, beautiful?”

“Absolutely.”

“My point exactly. It’s ok Dean, you don’t have to ma-” Dean’s fingers found my chin, nudging it up so I would like at him.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “I’m sorry I haven’t made you feel it.”

I stared at him, mouth agape. Absolutely stunned into silence.

“And I’m sorry again that I was a bit of a dick yesterday.”

His face came even closer, watching my reactions.

“You’re my weak spot,” he whispered.

“No, I’m not.” I put my hands on his chest, “Dean, this isn’t funny, don’t tease me.”

He dropped his hand from my chin, looking hesitant. “Sweetheart, I’m putting my heart on the line here, I’m not teasing.”

My hands slackened.

He edged a tiny bit forward.

His tongue darted out and back in. I couldn’t stop staring at his lips.

Was this even real?

How was this happening?

His hand came up to cup my cheek.

I leant forward.

The world suddenly sped up again. Dean moved in, closing the gap between us and bringing his lips to mine. I lost myself in the tenderness of his touch, the softness of his lips, the exploration of his tongue and mine.

A sudden noise made us pull apart. Sam was standing in the doorway, cardboard holder with coffees in one hand and the other on his hip.

“I’m happy for you guys and all, but we still have a case to work. You can pick this up later.”

Dean Winchester taglist

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@lyarr24

@waynes-multiverse

@deans-spinster-witch

@zepskies

Everything Supernatural taglist

@leigh70

@malindacath

@ellie-andthemachine

@iprobablyshipit91

@123passwort

@kazsrm67

@nerdymuffinbonkcloud

@magssteenkamp

#my writing #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x plus size reader #dean winchester x plus size!reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester birthday #happy birthday dean #deansbirthdaybash #plus size reader #chubby reader #dean winchester x chubby reader #dean x reader #dean x plus size reader #spnaubingo #drunk character #mistaken for pregnant #i write terrible synopses #but it's better than it sounds

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haddonfieldwhore · 1 year

Text

bedsheets - ethan landry

nsfw // no spoilers 🔪 // pre ghostface attacks

warnings: nsfw, protected!sex, sub!ethan, sub!reader, friends to lovers, language, slight praise kink, it’s just fluffy as hell, not edited!!

soft ethan playlist 🎧

can be read as a part 2 to “tired” or on its own

you and ethan walked out of study hall together, after an especially boring lecture that had you almost asleep at your desk.

“that was the longest 2 hours of my life,” you sighed, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you shoved your textbook into it. “i think i’m gonna skip the afternoon today.”

“i could meet up with you later? i’ve still got english today, but i’ll be done at 3,” he offered. you grabbed his hand, dragging him in the opposite direction of his class, and he smiled as he followed behind you.

“or…,” you began. “you could skip your classes and just hang out with me now,” you suggested,

giving him your best puppy dog eyes. ethan knew he could never say no to you, and let you drag him to his dorm building.

the door closed behind you as ethan set his bag down on the floor, and you followed him to the living room area of his dorm.

“hey man,” you heard his roomate, chad call out to ethan from the other room.

“hey. we have a guest so i hope you’re decent,” he laughed.

“yeah i’m good, dude.” chad said walking out of his room, indeed fully dressed. “hey,” he greeted you, and you smiled in return.

“don’t you have class right now?” chad asked ethan, who was grabbing each of you a drink from the mini fridge in the tiny kitchen area.

“yeah.. i was gonna go, but this one’s a bad influence, they convinced me not to go.” ethan gestured to you, and you playfully raised your hands in surrender.

“well, i’m on my way out, so the place is yours,” chad explained, winking at ethan behind your back, and the he pushed his shoulder in return. you sat down on the couch and waved goodbye to chad as he slid his letterman jacket on and walked out the door. ethan sat next to you, turning on the tv.

“movie?” he suggested, and you nodded.

“you pick- i’m cool with whatever,” you replied, and ethan flipped through a stack of dvds before picking one and putting it in the player. the menu screen for “i know what you did last summer” popped up and ethan pressed play. you weren’t honestly too interested in the movie, just happy to not be in class. ethan and you had both seen the movie before, so you didn’t think he’d mind talking over it.

“where was chad going?” you asked.

“to hang out with tara i think,”

“do you think he’s ever gonna make a move on her?” it was obvious to everyone that chad and tara were into eachother, except for chad and tara themselves. ethan laughed, a smile spreading across his face as he thought of his friends.

“maybe. i can’t believe neither of them see how into eachother they are,” he admitted. “i think i’d figure it out if one of my friends had a thing for me.” you hoped ethan couldn’t see the blush on your face as you thought you were going to sink into the floor. you and ethan were best friends, and had always been incredibly close. it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to fall asleep in each others arms after a movie on the couch, or for you to sit in his lap at sam and tara’s when there wasn’t enough chairs for everyone. and you were perfectly content with it never being anymore than that, since you thought that’s what ethan wanted.

“yeah…” you replied, trying to focus back on the movie, but all you could think of was how close you and ethan were. his leg was just inches from brushing against yours, his arm over the back of the couch. it would be almost too easy to curl into his side, to rest your head in his chest and listen to the rhythmic beating of his heart like you had what felt like a thousand times before. so why was it any different now? why did you have to complicate things all of the sudden?

“you okay?” he asked, leaning closer to look at you, and you tried to avoid looking into his pretty brown eyes.

“just…. tired,” you whispered, not even sounding convincing to yourself, as you looked down at your lap.

“you know i can tell when you’re lying right?” he asked softly, and you looked back up at him, your noses almost touching.

“eeth-“

“can i kiss you?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. you tried to reply, but couldn’t form words, nodding instead. ethan leaned forward, closing the gap between you and gently pressing his lips to yours. “come here,” he whispered, taking a hold of your arm and pulling you onto his lap, straddling him as his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him.

“please-“ he cut you off by kissing you again, his lips so soft as they moved with yours. your fingers clung to the fabric of the front of his t-shirt, before sliding over his clavicle and up the sides of his neck, and he let out a whine underneath you. ethan’s arms tightened around your waist, moving you against his lap slightly, and you moaned softly into his mouth. his hands slid up the back of your shirt slightly before he stopped, separating his lips from yours.

“is this okay?” he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

“yes, this is more than okay,” you assured him, connecting your lips again. his warm hands still sent shivers up your back as they slid underneath your shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they moved higher. your hand moved up the sides of ethan’s neck and twisted into his chocolate brown curls, tugging slightly.

“hmm..fuck,” ethan whimpered, and you bit his bottom lip gently, causing him to moan loudly. his hands slid down your sides to grip your hips, moving you to grind slightly against him. “can you feel what you’re doing to me?”

“i’m sorry….do you want me to help you with that?” you teased, moving your hand down to palm his hardening length through the fabric of his jeans. his head fell back against the soft couch, exposing his neck. his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and you leaned forward to gently nip at soft skin below his jaw.

“i need you,” ethan moaned as you left hickeys up his throat, and he shuddered underneath you as you found his sweet spot. “fuck-“

“you can have me,” you assured him, and he lifted his head to look at you, his gaze soft as he brought his hand up to hold your chin lightly, his thumb tracing over your lips. you opened your mouth and let him slide his thumb past your lips, sucking on it slightly, and he involuntarily bucked his hips upwards slightly in response.

“do you….do you want to go to the bedroom? or stay here?” he asked, quickly loosing his composure as you continued to move yourself against him.

“bedroom?” you said, but you honestly didn’t care; you just wanted him, it didn’t matter where. lifting you slightly as you stood, ethan leaned down to kiss you now that you were both standing. his hands still on your hips, he guided you towards his room, his lips never leaving yours as you tried not to fall while walking backwards through the doorway.

ethan gently laid you down on the bed, grabbing something from his dresser drawer before crawling on top of you and gently kissing your forehead. his fingers traced your face from your temple down to your chin, and he tilted your lips upwards to meet his again. you arched your back, lifting your hips to meet his and he moaned, allowing you to slide your tongue into his mouth. your hands slid under his shirt, silently requesting it be removed and he got the hint, pulling away and sitting up slightly to pull it over his head, messing up his hair slightly in the process. you took the opportunity to undo his belt buckle, before his fingers found yours and took over, removing the belt completely.

“can i..?” he asked, waiting for your permission as his hands found the hem of your shirt. you nodded, and lifted yourself upwards to make it easier to remove. removing your remaining articles of clothing, you were both naked in front of each other for the first time, but there wasn’t any time for feeling self conscious or nervous as ethan kissed you again, and your hands traveled down to stroke his length gently. he moaned into the kiss, before burying his face in the crook of your neck as you began to move your hand back and forth. he whimpered as you ran your thumb gently over the tip, and he pressed sloppy, wet kisses to your neck.

“you sound so pretty, baby.” you cooed in his ear, and he bucked his hips into your hand at your voice.

“please…god you look good like this- underneath me,” he mused, and you smiled. “slow down,” he instructed, his fingers wrapped around your wrist to stop your movements. “i wanna be inside you.” you nodded, and he grabbed a small packet from next to him on the bed, opening it and letting you help him slide the rubber onto himself.

“ethan-“ you moaned, as you felt him position himself at your entrance.

“are you sure?” he asked, and pushed himself into you after hearing you reply yes. you both moaned as the feeling of his movements sent shockwaves through your bodies. he waited while you adjusted, pressing his forehead to yours until you gave him the okay to move. starting off with slow thrusts, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled his lips down to yours again. he began to quicken his pace and you tugged harshly at his curls in response.

“do that again-“ he inhaled sharply as you obliged, pulling his hair as he thrusted harder into you. “fuck, you feel so good,” he whined. “i’m gonna flip us over, okay baby?” you nodded, and ethan rolled over, now sitting on the bed with you in his lap, your legs around his waist, allowing him to reach even deeper inside you than before. your eyes rolled back in your head and he held you close, his large hands roaming your back.

“ethan… fuck-“ you had trouble forming words, you eyes glossy as you and ethan looked at eachother. he rested his forehead against yours again as he thrusted upwards into you, his rhythm becoming sloppier as he neared his peak.

“you’re being so good for me,” ethan whispered, and you rolled your hips against his, causing him to swear under his breath.

“i’m so close, e,” you whimpered, so near to the edge that you didn’t know how much longer you could hold on. “tell me i’m yours.”

“your mine,” ethan almost growled, and his movements stuttered as you tumbled over the edge, contracting around his length as he frantically slammed into you.

“fuck, i’m never gonna get over you,” he whimpered in your ear, the feeling of him inside you getting to be too much.

“come on, baby, i wanna hear you when you come,” you pleaded, tugging on his hair harder than before, and he moaned loudly, shaking as he finished inside you, his warmth spilling into the condom as you moved your hips to coax him through it. you were beginning to feel a little overstimulated, and tears began to form in your eyes as he slowed his hips before stopping his movements completely. collapsing gently on the bed, ethan carefully pulled out of you, removing the condom and disposing of it before getting a warm cloth from the bathroom to clean you up.

you lay in bed next to him, his eyes closed as he lay facing you, his curls messy and damp with sweat as you gently brushed them off his forehead with your fingers. his eyes were closed, a light blush in his cheeks and a soft smile on his lips. his brown eyes opened slightly, and his hand reached up to gently caress your cheek. you leaned forward to kiss him and his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

“we should’ve done that a long time ago,” you admitted, your fingers crawling up his skin to gently trace the shape of the dark purple hickeys you’d left on his neck and collarbones.

“yeah- we should’ve. but we can do it a lot more times,” he said, laughing lightly, his voice deep with drowsiness. “i like you here like this. in my bed.”

“i like being here; with you,” you replied, relaxing into ethan’s embrace and closing your eyes. with a final kiss to your forehead, you drifted off to sleep, and ethan followed shortly after, safe and warm in each others arms, where you belonged.

#ethan landry playlist #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry one shot #ethan landry headcanons #ethan landry smut #ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry #ethan landry fluff #jack champion #jack champion fic #scream #scream 6

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 10 months

Text

boys a liar

pairing: ethan landry x female!reader

WC: 3.5K

warnings: SPOILERS (tho you already know cause of the gif), cursing, (back)stabbing, blood. should be it!

summary: he said he would always protect you, he just never said anything about it being from him.

A/N: i got inspired by a charlie walker (scream4) edit where he was shushing kirby after he stabbed her. also don’t think tooo hard about the stab/blood loss logistics. it’s fictional.

been in the drafts since march 21

masterlist / ethan landry

Everything was in chaos. The trap for ghost face instantly goes south, like they usually do.

Kirby disappeared a minute after arriving at the theater leaving your group, Sam, Tara, Chad, you, and Ethan on your own. Unintentionally everyone split up, Chad and Tara going one way, and Sam another way, which left you and Ethan on your own.

The two of you decided to head to the balcony and sit near the railing. The second Ethan sat next to you, you leaned your head on his shoulder and slipped your hand into his, and gave a firm squeeze. Your heart was beating loudly in your ears, it was the only noise you could hear besides your breathing and Ethan’s with his puffs of air ruffling over your hair. Your eyes just stared blankly in front of you, the black robes of ghost faces past in your direct line of sight.

“I don’t like this.” An opinion you’ve withheld. You felt Ethan shifting his head, “I told you to stay home.” “Yeah, but my chances of getting killed would have been a lot bigger if I was separated. Plus I want to make sure you and everyone else are safe as well, we’re all making it out of this mess alive.” You squeezed his hand tighter before bringing it to your lips and kissing his knuckles.

The feeling of Ethan kissing your head made you feel just a bit lighter. You moved your head off his shoulder and stared into his warm brown eyes, his soft gaze fluttering your heart. With your free hand, you cupped his cheek and leaned in with your eyes drooping close, Ethan meeting you halfway. His plush lips were a simple touch of skin before he tilted just a bit, his nose pillowing into your cheek. Your lips moved in a simplistic dance, nothing heating up, just wanting to enjoy each other during a blissful moment of peace before an incoming storm tears it down.

You pulled away first, needing to catch your breath. Your lips were still close, noses bumping into each other and both smiled at the action. Your fingers danced over Ethan’s skin, feeling the texture and bumps, wanting to absorb it all into your skin.

“It’s gonna be fine, sweetheart. I won’t let anything happen to you.” His voice was low, a whisper to your lips. He ran his thumb over your hand. You peered through your lashes at him, “I know you’re lying, but thank you.” You couldn’t guarantee your safety, or anyone else’s. You rather keep your expectations low.

You fully pulled away from Ethan, his eyes watching your every move. You looked over the balcony and saw no one around, it caused worry to fester.

“We should probably regroup with the others,” you stood from your seat and turned to the stairs, but a hand wrapped around your wrist stopped you in your tracks and you looked over your shoulder, “I meant it. Everything is gonna be fine.” Ethan’s puppy dog eyes which would usually melt your insides and weaken your knees only caused a chill over your skin.

“Okay. I trust you.”

How you wish you could retract that statement.

The both of you checked different rooms of the theater, not finding Kirby or Sam. You found Tara and Chad… as they were kissing. You started to walk quietly out of the room when a blur of motion caught your attention.

“Look out!” You screamed, but it was no use as Tara got stabbed in the back by ghost face, Chad holding her body.

Ghost face pulled the knife out and just as he was preparing for another stab you rushed at him and grabbed his arm. The two of you struggled for the upper hand. He grabbed at your hair and yanked it causing your head to bend backward harshly making a yelp fall from your mouth. Being distracted by the tight pull of your hair, your hands loosened their grip on his arm and he took the opportunity to stab the knife into your stomach making you cry even louder. To make matters worse, he started to pull the knife down, ripping apart your muscle and skin tissue. You felt like you could pass out in a blink.

You heard someone scream your name and then you fell to the floor and the knife was yanked out, and your chest heaved for a steady breath. Your body was shaking and you touched a finger to your wound and it was instantly coated in slick blood. Your head was starting to get woozy, black dots were spotting your vision and the ground felt like it was being tipped like you were on a rocking boat in a rocky sea. A warm feeling graced your stomach and back, a breeze kissed your cheek and tickled your ear and if you could focus enough you could hear whimpers and pleading for you.

A hard press to your abdomen made you jerk forward from the floor and squeeze your eyes shut from pain. Your heart was beating frantically and your skin was feeling clammy, tiny sweat drops hitting your eye. Your hands clawed at the person’s hands and arms as they applied more pressure to stop the bleeding. You fluttered your eyes open, trying to keep yourself from slipping into the darkness and to see who was with you. Curly brunette hair was your answer.

“E- Ethan…” you groaned as he pushed harder, “stop, stop, stop! It hurts! You're hurting me!” Tears fell from the corner of your eyes as you tried pushing Ethan away.

“I know, I know, but I have to stop you from bleeding out. Sweetheart, please, come on. Hey, hey, just- just look at me, okay? Just look at me, let me see those eyes I love so much.” His voice was wavering every few words. You laid your head down on the floor, you still don’t know where in the theater, your eyes staring up at the ceiling as you gripped Ethan’s hands in a comforting way.

You didn’t want to die. You made it out of Woodsboro with the twins and the Carpenter sisters, but maybe this was some twisted thing from the universe. Only the siblings get to live in this new franchise, as Mindy would put it. You didn’t want to die. You wanted to live a normal life, not have to watch your back for the rest of your life just because someone was obsessed with horror movies and given ideas by the killers. You didn’t want to die. You wanted more time with your boyfriend, Ethan. The two of you only dated a few months, but you wanted years with him, a lifetime with him.

“I- I don’t wa- want to die… Ethan. Pl- Please.” You choked on sobs and it only caused more pain to flare up.

“It’s gonna be okay, it’ll be over soon. You just need to hold on a little longer.” He moved a hand from your stomach and caressed your cheek, the feeling of your blood touching your skin making the intimate gesture vile.

There was something within his eyes that flickered like a switch. One minute he was looking at you like you painted stars in the sky and the next it was like he was looking at the person he hated most in the worst, a nasty grimace tugging at his beautiful lips.

The hand touching your cheek slipped down and down until it wrapped around your throat and squeezed, tight. Air immediately was cut off and you grabbed at his wrist and tried to pull him away, but he was a lot stronger and in stable condition. You felt his other hand move away but you didn’t notice how he grabbed something from behind him and kept it away from your eye line. He leaned in close, his breath skating across your redding face. You pushed a hand into his face, but he pushed it into the ground and you winched from an unknown object pressing into your wrist.

“You know, (Y/n), I just wanted you to know you were my first girlfriend. And it was a real pleasure for me, first kiss at a party while slightly tipsy, classic. First intimate time together while watching a movie, another classic. Also thank you for taking my virginity, you were lovely.” He sighed, “Honestly… I don’t think anyone after you will be topped. An added bonus, you survived the Woodsboro killings, like come on!” You continue to struggle in his hold as he speaks to your face.

“You know, it was my sister's idea- try and get someone to fall for me. A good killer always has a love interest. And I’ll also be honest… I really like you, maybe even love you, but you have a purpose to fulfill. Along with everyone else.”

“Wha- What is- Fuck you!” “Such a pretty face with a vulgar mouth.” He squeezed tighter and even shook your head. “Now, where was- oh! Right! Well, we’ve reached the third act, as Mindy would say and so it’s time to make some killings.”

In a flash, a blinding heat crept up your side and you tried to gasp for air you couldn’t retrieve. You scratched and clawed at Ethan’s arm just for a simple gulp of air. The pain only worsened when he twisted, you assume a knife, in your side making the spots come back.

He removed his hand just as you were about to pass out and he pulled the knife out before going back in. You screamed and cried, the pain only amplified by the person causing it. You stopped fighting, your will to live slipping from your buttery fingers.

“Shush, shush, it’s okay. Everything is okay.” Ethan cooed in your ear as he stroked your hair from your damp skin. You don’t know what was worse, that he was comforting you just as he stabbed you and broke your heart or that you enjoyed the tiny hint of the other Ethan.

He dropped the bloody knife beside you and held your face between his hands, gentle as always, and he kissed your forehead. You eye the knife and make small moves inching closer. He moved from your forehead to your nose to your right cheek then your left. He pulled just an inch or two away as he looked into your blurry eyes, his thumbs stroking your sweaty skin. At this moment you decided to indulge in the sweet kisses, needing just something, anything. So as Ethan leaned back in you closed your eyes, hand closing around the knife hilt, and got swept away by the familiar rhythm of kissing your boyfriend. Soft and slow, taking all the time in the world to just memorize each other before pulling away.

“You could have been spared if you didn’t help kill him.” He whispered to your lips. His breath hit your wet and parted lips. “Him? Who’s him?” “My brother.” He sighed.

Your brows furrowed, “bro- brother? You- you said he died in -“ “oh, you sweet dumb thing. I’ll spell it out for you. Richie.” Your eyes widened.

“He- he and Amber- they tried to kill us! For a- a- a stupid movie! It was self-defense!”

“And what we’re doing as a family is getting revenge. Hope you understand, sweetheart.”

Your nostrils flared as you got a tight grip and looked directly into his eyes with a straight smile, “and this is just self-defense.” The blade sunk into the meat of Ethan’s side and it pushed him off your body and to the floor beside you. “Hope you understand,” you voiced his words back as you scrambled away, your body screaming at you to stop. Your adrenaline is the only thing keeping you upright.

You weren’t sure where you were running to, turning corners, and being met with a locked door before you had to retrace your steps and go a different route. You found yourself stumbling back into the snack area of the theater and you whimpered as you found Chad lying on the floor with blood coating his Blackmore university hoodie. You wanted to walk to him and check if he was breathing but Tara and Sam were missing and you hadn’t run into Kirby yet.

With a shot of pain and blood spilling with each step, you pushed forward. A hand pressed to the wall was your anchor as you traveled back to the shrine, hoping you’ll find someone alive and not the killer. As you got closer to where you remembered the main theater was, you could hear voices talking, overlapping, or yelling over each other.

As you turned a final corner you peered into the room making sure you were still hidden in the shadows for now. The glass boxes blocked the view but you could see the backs of Sam and Tara, their heads moving as the people around them spoke. You looked further into the room and gasped. Detective Bailey stood with two ghost faces beside him, masks still on their faces. You already knew who one of them was, Ethan, the one with a hand to their side. But the second one you couldn’t think of who, it couldn’t have been Mindy… it just couldn’t have…. could it?

“Mindy?” You heard Sam voice your thoughts after Ethan pulled his mask away. How his face and smile still made your heart thump rapidly.

The final killer revealed themself, “Quinn?” Tara was flabbergasted as was Sam and you along with them as you decided to make yourself known. Probably a bad idea, but you were losing brain cells the longer you bled out, and your decision-making wasn’t the wisest at the moment.

On shaky legs, you made your way to your friends. With a glance to the ground you saw Kirby, beaten and bloody, but her chest was moving so that was a relief. A bloody hand touched each glass case as you walked further, needing all the help to push forward.

“Ah, I was wondering where she went. Seems Ethan already had some fun with her.” “Well, I was the first to get her since she intervened with Tara and Chad.”

Sam and Tara turned your way and the looks on their faces made you feel a bit of relief to know they were worried about you just as you were with them. Tara made her way to you but was stopped by Ethan who stood in front of you and swung the knife in front of her like she was a feral animal.

“Don’t! Don’t touch her, only I can touch her.” He kept the knife held high as he rounded yourself and threw an arm over your stomach and pulled you into his chest. A grunt came out from the impact. His solid frame and weight were a nice wall to keep you upright, so you leaned your head against his collarbones and held his arm as you slumped a bit.

“See. She wants me, always.” “She’s fucking bleeding out, dumbass!” Tara yelled at him as she kept her eyes on you.

“Well, Quinn got a bit too aggressive-“ “Fuck off, lover boy.” “- And I stabbed her two times. But she’s a survivor, she already survived a few stabbings in Woodsboro.” He kissed your temple and in your haze, you smiled at the touch. “She can survive a few more.”

“What the fuck do you even want from us? Can’t you horror freaks leave us the hell alone?” Sam sneered at the three.

“This isn’t about movies. Not a fan of the genre, but my oldest fell in love with them. He wanted to make his own Stab movie since he said the last one wasn't like the originals. But he died before he could, his death is on your hands.” Bailey pointed his gun at Sam.

“Wh- what the hell are you talking about?”

“Ri- Richie.” You muttered out since you knew the answer to her question.

“What does Richie-“ “He was our brother, you fucking bitch.” Quinn pushed Sam in the chest causing her to stumble backward into a display.

“E- Ethan… p-please,” you slid down his chest, his arms holding you tight as your knees touched the floor and he placed your head in his lap. “You’ll be okay sweetheart. After all this we’ll get you to the hospital, I can make an exception for you.” His black glove stroked your cheek. He moved from under you and laid you down between displays and that’s when you passed out.

You felt like you were thrown under a bus and driven over multiple times. Loud beeps echoed in your ears and you wished to block them out but you couldn’t lift your arms without your muscles aching. You tried prying your eyes open, they felt heavy and crusty, your lashes fluttering in your vision. The white light of the room hurt your head and you hissed at the brightness.

You were able to move your head from side to side to look around the hospital room. You were met with Sam hunched over her lap as she twiddled with her fingers, as her hair covered her face.

“S- Sam.” Your cracked voice called out to her making her head jerk up, a smile came to her lips and her eyes were shining.

“Oh thank god. We thought- you passed out as the three of them went after us. I shot Quinn and Killed Bailey…”

“And Ethan?” “Tara stabbed him through the mouth and then somehow he lived to run at us before Kirby pushed a TV onto his head.” She rolled her lips and looked at her hands that rested atop your bedding next to your thigh.

“Oh.” You don’t know what you expected to hear. A part of you was glad that Ethan was dead, he tried to kill you and your friends. But… you’ll miss him. It was like you saw him as two different people. Ethan Landry was sweet and gentle, soft-spoken and smart, and a bit awkward around girls. And then this Ethan… if he was related to Bailey and Quinn, then he was Ethan Bailey in that theater. Getting revenge for his brother no matter what the consequences are, stabbing you and taunting you, using your love for him against you.

“I’m sorry.” Sam touched your arm. “For what,” you shrugged your shoulders and played with a loose string from the blanket.

“That the boy you loved used it against you and manipulated you. After- after what happened in Woodsboro… you were so quiet, closed off. You barely let the four of us in and it scared us. But when Chad started to bring Ethan around and more comfortable with the group… We saw you slowly let your guard down. And I can’t be one to judge, I always have my guard up and I’ll fully be on your side if your wall goes back up as well. It was just really nice to see you be a bit free, enjoying life with a boy you liked and hanging with your friends in a new city.”

The tears rolled from your eyes and down your cheeks silently as you listened to Sam’s words. Ethan helped you be comfortable with yourself again and he just broke it all over again.

“The universe hates us, doesn't it?” You laughed through the tears and Sam joined in, agreeing with you, “but it’s making us stronger. For what? I have no fucking clue.”

You wiped away the salty water, “uh, where’s- where’s Tara and Mindy? Did- Did Chad live?”

“Everyone is alive. Mindy and Tara are with Chad right now since he woke up before you. But I can go get them if you want?” She started to pull away, “no, no. I’m fine with just the two of us for now.” You didn’t want to be alone for even a second.

“Why don’t you go back to sleep? You could use some more rest.” She pushed the hair away from your face, a motherly, sisterly gesture that warmed your heart.

You complied and shuffled around in the tiny bed and closed your eyes. You hoped to dream of warm afternoons, a cool breeze that tangled your hair and kissed your cheeks. You hoped for a nice place in New York with your friends- your family, all of you laughing and dancing around as music played in the background. You dreamed of a fantasy far away in your mind of a tall boy with fluffy hair and gentle eyes, how he would smile at you sickly sweet like honey and he would open his arms for you to run into and give you tight squeezes. He would leave kisses over your face before diving into your lips and melding them together before letting his tongue slip in and his hands would hold your neck as he pushed further. You would pull away just to catch a breath and you both would giggle like school children before you tucked your face into his neck and you would mumble the words into his skin.

“I love you”

...

@astrxq (fellow ethan lover)

#ethan landry imagine #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x female!reader #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry angst #scream 6 #scream vi #scream 6 image #scream 6 x reader #jack champion

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 6 months

Note

I discovered your blog a little bit ago (back when your requests were off) and got super excited when I saw that you wanted a Sam Winchester request!

So I was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader is insecure about her stretch marks, but Sam reassures her and shows her that he has stretch marks too from growing so quickly and much when he was a kid going from tiny to giant in like a snap. Reader is obsessed with them now that she’s seen them (and wants to lick them ;)) snd there’s so much appreciation on both sides. Thank you so much!

Love your writing!

.⋆｡Natural Matching Tattoos｡⋆.

Sam Winchester x plus size reader

You never liked your body but you love Sam and he adores every part of you so maybe you should let him show you just how incredible you are

Warnings: self deprecation, fat phobic thoughts, stretch marks, fear of rejection, fluff, implied smut, reassurance

WC: 997

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Hunting was apparently not a great form of exercise, you thought as you stood in front of your full length mirror dressed in nothing besides a bra that should’ve been thrown out years ago and your laundry day underwear. With a critical eye, you glared at the overhang of your stomach, the seam between your thighs where there should have been a gap but especially the shimmery skin stretched too far along your body.

You tilted your head as you traced those lines with the tips of your fingers. How many things had you tried to get rid of them? How many years have you spent avoiding mirrors just because of this? You sighed dejectedly, your entire body sagging with the weight of your hate. You were exhausted with it, it ate away at you until there was only a speck of the love you once had for the body you inhabited.

“Princess, have you seen my- oh.” Light from the hallway streamed into your room, casting a new light upon yourself which you immediately turned away from, and instead met the deep hazel eyes of your barely official boyfriend. Sam filled the doorway, his presence overwhelming.

“Sam.” You could barely breathe out his name with the massive weight of shame sitting on your chest. You felt his gaze burning into your skin as he took in every inch of your mostly naked body. Your vision wavered as tears began to build.

Yet he said nothing. “I-“ But no more words would come. This was what you feared most, that he would finally realise that he could do so much better than you, that you could never compare to Jess or Eileen or even Ruby. As you braced yourself for heartbreak, Sam stepped closer, lost in a trance.

Your arms curled around your stomach and you looked away, squeezing your eyes shut. Your fingers brushed the tell-tale smoothness of some of your stretch marks and suddenly you wanted to scream. Why couldn’t you just be fucking normal, you wanted to shout at yourself, why couldn’t you just lose the weight before he saw you naked for the first time. You expected to hear him insult you or say that you had a pretty face for someone so big, but then, just like he always managed to, Sam surprised you.

Far softer than you could ever imagine a man like him to be capable of, Sam cupped your forearms, prying them away from your body and leaving you vulnerable to him. You whimpered under your breath. There was a moment of quiet where all you could hear was his heavy breathing and your own pounding heartbeat and then-

“Gorgeous.”

His large hands hovered over your hips like he was handling a piece of precious artwork. The calloused tips of his fingers grazed the fat along your pelvis in reverence. “I always thought you were beautiful, but now, I can’t believe that you’re real.”

“Sam-“ Part of you wanted to stop him, to push away his affections but the way he cradled you and looked at you with those big hazel puppy dog eyes, you didn’t think you had the strength to stop him. He gave you that stupid grin of his that showed off his dimples and made his entire body light up. “But my stretch marks.” You managed to stammer out as some sort of last ditch effort to get him to realise the truth.

Finally he laid his hands on your skin and your mouth snapped shut. His thumbs brushed against said stretch marks, leaving behind a warm, buzzing sensation that you could feel in your bones. “What about them?” He murmured but you could tell that he was already lost in the texture of your skin.

“They’re ugly.” You admitted like it was some shameful secret. Sam froze for a moment and gazed deeply into your eyes.

“You really think that?” You nodded. Your skin was cold where he let go of your hips, it made you wish that you had just kept your mouth shut and let him love those parts of you that you hated.

You jolted forward to try and grab at his hands but they were already pulling at the buttons of his flannel with a determined look on his face. You gave an embarrassed squeak as suddenly, Sam was topless in front of you, his perfectly sculpted torso so achingly close to your hands. “Then you must think mine are ugly too then.”

In the soft light of your bedside lamp, you could see the silvery lines that trailed up his slim hips, starkly contrasted against his tanned skin. They were almost identical to your own and they were beautiful, like silver threads that had been placed upon him like jewels. You couldn’t help but reach out to them, desperate to feel them beneath your hands.

Sam chuckled deeply in his chest but did not try to stop you as you laid your palms flat against his toned stomach. “How?” Was all you could manage to say besides something else incredibly impolite about your boyfriend’s body.

“I’m 6’4 princess, and Dean will absolutely attest to the fact that I grew over a foot in one summer. I was bound to get some stretch marks.” You hummed, now understanding why Sam had been so distracted by your own body moments before. “Still think stretch marks are ugly?”

You shook your head without hesitation and he beamed. “’S like we have matching tattoos.”

A soft kiss was pressed to your temple as he once more wrapped you in his arms to hold you close. “That’s my girl.” You sank into his embrace, content and warm. The weight of your insecurities was slightly lessened with someone you so dearly loved taking some of the burden and you couldn’t be happier about it. Well, there was one thing.

“Can I lick ‘em?” Sam’s laugh reverberated through the room.

“Only if I can lick yours.”

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hunterscabin · 1 year

Text

Fever

Request: Hi! I love your writing :). Could you write one where the reader has a really high fever, increased heart rate (like Sam in the one episode) and the brothers have to bring it down and take care of her. - Anonymous

Pairings: Dean x Reader; Sam x Reader

Warnings: Sick reader; hurt/comfort; fluff; the tiniest pinch of angsty Sam

Word Count: 1.8k

"Is she getting ready for a hunt or a date?" Dean paced in front of the Impala while fiddling with his gun. "These werewolves aren't gonna kill themselves."

Sam let out a soft chuckle. Dean wasn't a patient man, but he had a particularly hard time waiting on you. "I'll go see what's taking her so long."

"Y/N?" Sam called for you down the hallway. "Dean's getting antsy." He reached your room and knocked loudly. "Normally I'd enjoy watching him squirm, but we've got a head start on this pack. We should really get going."

When you didn't respond, Sam checked to see if the door was locked. It wasn't, so he nudged his way in to find you buried under your covers. "Y/N! What are you still doing in bed?"

You turned your head toward the door with a groan. Sam's tone softened when he saw your complexion.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, walking toward your bed.

"I think it's the flu." The simple act of rolling over had the room spinning, and you squeezed your eyes shut to quell the nausea.

Sam moved his hand to your forehead and was surprised by how warm you felt. "You're burning up."

"I don't think I'm going to be much help today."

Sam knelt down to see his own puppy dog eyes looking back at him. He rubbed his thumb across your forehead and gave you a sympathetic smile. "I'll be right back."

Sam returned with a glass of water and some cold medicine. He helped you sit up and handed you two small pills. You took them quickly and set the glass of water on your nightstand.

"Dean's gonna be pissed," you remarked nervously, as you nestled back into your mountain of pillows.

"Don't worry about Dean," he assured, tucking you in. "I’ll take care of him.”

You watched through hazy eyes as Sam disappeared into the bathroom to wet a washcloth. He came back, crouching next to the bed, and placed the cool towel on your forehead. You sighed at the small relief it provided.

“We should be back in a few hours.” Sam picked up your phone from the nightstand and gave it a wave before placing it next to your pillow. “Call if you need anything"

You responded with a weak smile. Sam switched off your lamp and stood to leave. He turned back as s he closed your bedroom door and saw that you were already sleeping.

"I'm gonna get cleaned up and then check on Y/N." Sam dropped his muddy boots by the door.

"Tell her she missed a good one." Both men were covered in the evidence of their successful hunt. “Let me know if I can get her anything.” Dean gave his brother a hearty clap on the shoulder and turned to his bedroom.

A quick shower and a clean pair of clothes later, Sam was outside your room. Not bothering to knock, he pushed the door open and leaned against the frame.

"Feeling any better, Y/N/N?" Sam whispered. When you didn't say anything, he tried again, raising his voice. "Y/N/N?"

Growing concerned at your silence, Sam moved into your room, his long legs closing the distance between you in three easy strides. When he reached the bedside table, he turned on the lamp. In the light, he could see a thin layer of sweat covering your face and neck.

"Y/N." Sam lifted his hand to your forehead and was alarmed to find that your fever had worsened. When you didn't so much as stir at his touch, Sam started to vigorously rub your arm. "Y/N/N!"

Sam placed his fingers on your neck. Your heart rate was rapid, and in checking your pulse, he noticed your breathing was shallow. He tried to rouse you once more and when you still didn’t respond, panic rolled through him in waves.

“Dean!”

Dean had just shrugged a clean flannel over his shoulders when he heard Sam yell his name from the other side of the bunker. He immediately took off, haphazardly fastening buttons as he ran down the hallway. Dean heard his name a second time and followed his brother’s voice to your room. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of Sam hovered over you, trying to shake you into consciousness.

"She won't wake up." Sam's voice lilted in fear.

Dean marched toward the bed, moving Sam aside. He cupped your cheek and winced at the heat radiating off of you.

"Y/N!" Dean shouted gruffly. He knew his attempt was in vain, but he was still heartbroken when you didn't respond.

"Sammy, we have to get her fever down." Dean pressed two fingers to your neck, confirming what Sam already knew. "Her heart rate is way too high."

Dean ran through their limited options before instructing Sam to run a bath. Sam darted toward your bathroom without question.

"Not too hot, not too cold." Dean instructed at the sound of running water.

"I've got it, Dean." Sam’s tone was strained and agitated.

Dean pulled off your covers. The cool air hitting your damp skin was enough to stir you into a state of semi-consciousness. You let out a long moan.

“Y/N?” Dean held your face in his hands, willing your eyes to open.

You leaned into his touch but could only respond with another whimper. Dean sighed in defeat.

“I’m right here, Y/N/N.” Dean soothed, gathering you in his arms. “I’ve got you.”

When Dean entered the bathroom, Sam quirked his head in apology. Dean nodded knowingly; whenever you were hurt or in pain, they were both on edge.

You let out another groan and Sam immediately stood to check you.

"Is she awake?"

"Barely." Dean shifted you in his arms and motioned for Sam to take you.

Not wanting to embarrass or expose you, the brothers kept you in the tank top and sleep shorts you were wearing. Dean cuffed his jeans and straddled the side of the bathtub, one foot submerged in the water and the other securely planted on the tile floor. Once his brother was positioned, Sam gently lowered you into the tub. Dean leaned forward to help support you.

As soon as your body made contact with the water, your teeth began chattering and your intermittent whimpers became a steady cry. Both brothers could feel your body tense, and they grew concerned about your already racing heart.

“You’re okay, Y/N/N.” Sam palmed your cheek. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

It felt like someone had replaced your eyelids with steel doors, and the energy it took to try and open them made you nauseous. When your Y/E/C eyes finally appeared, they were met with Sam’s relieved face.

“Hi, baby girl.” Keeping his eyes on you, Sam took his hand from your cheek and grabbed a washcloth. He dipped it in the lukewarm water before wringing it out with both hands.

You were becoming more alert with each passing moment, and seeing Sam at the other end of the bathtub made you realize that he wasn’t the one keeping you upright. In any other instance you would have immediately assumed Dean was behind you, but the fever had made you incoherent, and your normal instincts were inaccessible. Anxiety swept through you at the thought of being held by a stranger in your vulnerable state, and you began to fight against Dean.

Sam saw you crane your neck to see who was behind you and understood your confusion.

“Y/N,” he dropped the washcloth and grabbed your hands, “Y/N/N, look at me. You’re okay. It’s Dean.”

“It’s me, sweetheart.” Dean shifted so that you could see him. “It’s just me.”

It took you a moment to register Dean’s face, but once you knew it was him, you let out a shaky breath and relaxed into his arms.

“That’s my girl.” Dean leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple, relieved to feel that your feverish skin was cooling. “I’ve got you.”

Sam grabbed the floating washcloth and ran it over your face and arms. He stopped momentarily to check your pulse. The steady beat of your heart on his fingertips reassured him, and he nodded to Dean that the bath was helping.

Once he was satisfied with your temperature, Dean lifted you out of the tub and placed you in his brother’s arms. Sam wrapped you in a warm towel and held you close before sitting you on the stool in front of your vanity.

"Y/N?" Your tired eyes met his. "Do you think you can get yourself out of these wet clothes?"

You mumbled incoherently but found the strength to pull yourself to your feet. You gripped the counter top, and Sam helped steady you while you found your balance.

"I'm going to hang your robe on the door." Sam closed the door and stood vigilant on the other side, ready to charge back in at the first sign of any distress.

Gravity’s hold prayed on your weakened state, and every step, every reach was painfully exhausting. Time felt as languid as your movement, but after much effort, your wet clothes laid in a heap on the floor, and you had almost successfully wrapped yourself in your robe.

Thinking you had been quiet for too long, Sam knocked on the bathroom door, and you gave a small hum, letting him know he could enter. He opened the door to find you fumbling with the terry cloth belt.

"Let me help, Y/N/N." His voice was soft and comforting. Once he secured the knot, he lifted you in his arms and carried you back into your room.

Your head lolled to find Dean tucking clean sheets under the mattress. He smiled at the sight of you in Sam's arms, snuggled in your fluffy robe.

"Thank you, Dean." you murmured.

"Anytime." Dean winked as he pulled back the comforter, and Sam sat you on the edge of the bed. Dean handed Sam two small pills and a fresh glass of water. You took the medicine from Sam's hand, and he brought the water to your lips.

A shiver ran through your body, and Sam lifted the collar of your robe before easing you onto your pillow and pulling the covers over you.

“Sammy?” Sam smiled, thankful that you’d regained enough strength to speak. “Stay, please.”

“Of course.” Sam brushed the hair away from your face and dropped a kiss on the top of your head before moving to sit in your reading chair.

“You too, De.”

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” Dean sat down on the trunk at the end of your bed and reached up to rub your leg.

Their comforting presence allowed you to relax, and you quickly surrendered to sleep. No illness could compete with the love of Sam and Dean Winchester.

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#dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #spn fanfic #spn whump #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural whump #hurt/comfort #hurt comfort #sick fic

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doctorbitchcrxft · 21 days

Text

Home | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mention of parental death, mentions of abuse

Word Count: 4388

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You sat cross-legged on the floor of the boys’ motel room, sipping a coffee you’d run out to get earlier that morning. Dean was on his computer, and you were responding to the potential cases he’d found.

“A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali—” Dean started.

“Ooh, I like Cali,” you cut him off.

“—Its crew vanished.” He finished.

“And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas.”

“Meh, that’s boring. Let somebody else handle that one,” you dismissed.

Dean noticed Sam hadn’t spoken in just about the last hour. He was frantically scribbling on a notepad.

“Hey,” Dean called to his brother. “Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?”

“No. I’m listening. Keep going.”

He clearly wasn’t.

“And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times.”

“Ooh, I like that one,” you said.

Dean leaned over and waved a hand in front of Sam’s face. “Any of these things blowin’ up your skirt, pal?”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows at his notepad. “Wait. I’ve seen this.”

“Seen what?” you asked.

Sam got up from his bed and began rifling through his duffel bag.

“What are you doing?” Dean eyed his brother strangely.

The younger brother pulled out a photo from the bag and held it up next to his drawing. You couldn’t quite see what he was looking at from where you sat.

“Guys, I know where we have to go next.”

“Where?” Dean asked.

“Back home. Back to Kansas,” he responded.

The older brother was surprised. “Okay, random. Where’d that come from?”

He showed the photo to the two of you. “Alright, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?”

“Yeah…?” Dean still had no idea where he was going with this.

“And it didn’t burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?”

Dean— as well as you— was still lost. “I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy but… the people who live in our old house— I think they might be in danger,” Sam rushed out.

“Why would you think that?” you questioned.

“Uh… it’s just, um… look, just trust me on this, okay?” Sam turned away.

“Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?” Dean shook his head and stood to follow him. “Come on, man, that’s weak. You gotta give us a little bit more than that.”

“I can’t really explain it is all,” Sam shrugged.

“Well, tough. I’m not goin’ anywhere until you do.”

You turned to face Sam as he began to explain. “I have these nightmares.”

You nodded. “We’ve noticed.”

“And sometimes… they come true.”

Dean was stunned. “Come again?”

“Look, Dean�� I dreamt about Jessica’s death— for days before it happened,” Sam explained.

“Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.” Dean sat back down on the edge of his bed.

“No,” the younger brother protested. “I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn’t do anything about it ‘cause I didn’t believe it. And now I’m dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that’s where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?”

You felt overwhelmed, and so did Dean. “I don’t know.”

Sam sat down across from his brother. “What do you mean you don’t know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!”

“Sam, slow down—” you urged him, knowing Dean was about to go through the roof.

Sure enough, Dean stood and started pacing. “I mean, first you tell me that you’ve got the Shining? And then you tell me that I’ve gotta go back home? Especially when….”

“When what?” you asked.

Dean’s voice broke for the first time since you’d met him. “When I swore to myself that I would never go back there?”

Sam’s puppy dog eyes appeared as he spoke softly, “Look, Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure.”

Dean nodded. “I know we do.”

***

You looked out at the boys’ childhood home and followed them up to the front door.

“You gonna be alright, man?” Sam asked his brother who didn’t respond.

“Jury’s still out on that,” you muttered in response.

Dean knocked on the front door, and a young woman answered. You could see a look of recognition pass over Sam’s face.

“Yes?” the woman said.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but we’re with the Federal—”

One Winchester cut the other off. “I’m Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean. We used to live here. You know, we were just drivin’ by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place.”

The woman seemed surprised and smiled. “Winchester. Yeah, that’s so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night.” She turned to you. “Are you a Winchester, too? I didn’t see a little girl in any of the pictures.”

You shook your head. “No, no. Just a friend. (Y/N).”

She smiled at you. “Nice to meet you. Come on in.”

Inside the home, a girl who looked to be around seven sat at the table doing homework, and a little boy who was presumably two jumped in his playpen.

“Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!” the toddler called excitedly.

“That’s Ritchie. He’s kind of a juice junkie,” Jenny explained, taking a sippy cup from the fridge and bringing it to her son. “But, hey, at least he won’t get scurvy.” She walked back over to her daughter. “Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). The boys used to live here.”

“Hi,” the shy girl said quietly.

You waved.

“So, you just moved in?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, from Wichita.”

“You got family here, or…?”

Jenny’s smile faded. “No. I just, uh… needed a fresh start, that’s all. So, new town, new job— I mean, as soon as I find one. New house.”

“So, how you likin’ it so far?” Sam questioned.

Jenny laughed awkwardly. “Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home— I mean, I’m sure you had lots of happy memories here—”

You discreetly turned to see Dean smile weakly.

“But this place has its issues,” she finished.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well, it’s just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We’ve got flickering lights almost hourly.”

That caught your attention. “Oh, that’s too bad. What else?”

“Um…sink’s backed up, there’s rats in the basement…” She trailed off. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain.”

Dean shook his head. “No. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?”

Jenny looked at him quizzically. “It’s just the scratching, actually.”

Sari tugged on her mom’s shirt, who stooped down next to her. “Ask them if it was here when they lived here.”

“What, Sari?” Sam asked.

“The thing in my closet,” she whispered as if the thing would hear.

“Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets.” Jenny looked up to you and the boys. “Right?”

They shook their heads.

“She had a nightmare the other night,” Jenny explained.

Sari’s voice suddenly got louder. “I wasn’t dreaming. It came into my bedroom and it was on fire.”

The boys seemed too shocked to speak.

You took over. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You’re okay now though, right?”

She nodded.

“See? It didn’t get ya. It was only a dream.”

You knew it wasn’t. A pit filled your stomach after saying your goodbyes to the family and heading out of the door.

“You hear that? A figure on fire,” Sam reminded the two of you.

“And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams?” Dean asked.

"Yeah. And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just freaked out that your weirdo visions are comin’ true,” the older brother chuckled humorlessly.

“Well, forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think it’s the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?”

“I don’t know!” Dean responded.

The brothers were only making each other panic worse at this point.

“Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?” Sam inquired.

“Or maybe it’s something else entirely, Sam, we don’t know yet.”

“Both of you need to calm down,” you told them, simultaneously getting in the car. “We’re gonna get those people safe. Whatever’s in there is not gonna hurt you or those people.”

“Thank you, Dr. Phil,” Dean remarked.

You snapped into a more intense tone, leaning over the backseat. “Look, dude, you’re gonna get your shit together. The two of you are only ramping each other up. Now, you are going to get a grip or I will do this job on my own.”

Sam and Dean both nodded.

“You’re runnin’ low on gas, Dee.” You patted Dean’s cheek before sitting back against your chair.

***

“We just gotta chill out, that’s all,” Dean said as he pumped gas.

“I’ve tried telling you that eighty times since we left that house.”

He ignored your snide comment. “You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?”

"We’d try to figure out what we were dealin’ with. We’d dig into the history of the house,” Sam sighed.

"Exactly,” the older brother began, “except this time, we already know what happened.”

"Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?”

"About that night, you mean?”

"Yeah.”

Dean paused. “Not much. I remember the fire… the heat. And then I carried you out the front door.”

You looked at the floor, knowing how hard this must be for him to open up.

“You did?” the younger Winchester asked.

"Yeah, what, you never knew that?”

"No.”

“And, well, you know Dad’s story as well as I do. Mom was— was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her.”

“And he never had a theory about what did it?”

“If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times.”

"Okay. So, if we’re gonna figure out what’s goin’ on now…we have to figure out what happened back then. And see if it’s the same thing.”

You decided to add your two cents. “Yeah. We can talk to your dad’s friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time.”

Silence blanketed the three of you for a moment, the air feeling heavy.

“Does this feel like just another job to you?” Sam piped up.

‘Of course, it doesn’t,’ you thought.

Dean kept quiet for a moment. “I’ll be right back,” he finally said. “I gotta go to the bathroom.” He walked away, and you watched him turn the corner around the gas station. He looked back for a moment, and you assumed it was to see if anyone had followed him.

You furrowed your brows. You allowed a few minutes to pass before you announced to Sam, “I’m gonna go check on Dean.”

While you turned the corner, you saw Dean exiting the bathroom door. He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. When he noticed you, he tried to shoulder his normal attitude.

“You stalkin’ me?”

“No, actually, I came to check on you.”

“Well, I’m fine.” He went to brush past you.

You grabbed his bicep. “Don’t lie to me.”

He stopped, looking you over. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”

“Then what’s this?” you gently brushed your first finger under his chin, picking up a tear he had forgotten to wipe away. You held it up for him to see.

Dean opened his mouth to say something before snapping it shut again. He gently pulled his arm out of your grip. “C’mon, let’s go.” He started walking away from you.

You caught up to him, asking, “Are you sure you don’t just want me to do this one by myself?”

He nodded sharply.

Sam gave you a curious look while Dean got in the car.

You shook your head before the two of you ducked into the Impala simultaneously.

***

The three of you spoke to a man who had owned a car garage with John years ago. You learned how much John had changed before Mary’s death versus after, and you began to understand why Dean was the way he was. You also learned that he had been going to see a palm reader in town. Dean recognized the names of one of the palm readers Sam had read from a compiled list: Missouri Moseley. The three of you went over to her house and waited in her foyer as she finished with her last client.

She guided the client out of the door. “Alright, there. Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you.”

The man thanked her, and she closed the door behind you.

She addressed the three of you. “Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin’ the gardener.”

You giggled.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Dean asked.

“People don’t come here for the truth. They come for good news,” the woman explained. You stared at her, as did the boys.

“Well? Sam, Dean, (Y/N), come on already, I ain’t got all day.”

You looked at Dean. You knew you hadn’t told her your name. The three of you followed her into the next room.

“Well, lemme look at ya,” she smiled at the boys. “Oh, you boys grew up handsome.” She pointed her finger at Dean. “And you were one goofy-lookin’ kid, too.”

You giggled again. You liked her a lot.

“Sam.” Missouri grabbed his hand. “Oh, honey…I’m sorry about your girlfriend. And your father— he’s missin’?”

“How’d you know all that?” Sam asked her.

“Well, you were just thinkin’ it just now.”

“Well, where is he? Is he okay?” Dean questioned.

Missouri’s smile faded. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t know? Well, you’re supposed to be a psychic, right?”

“Boy, you see me sawin’ some bony tramp in half? You think I’m a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can’t just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please.”

You smirked at Sam and sat down.

Missouri snapped at Dean. “Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I’m ‘a whack you with a spoon!”

“I didn’t do anything!” he responded.

“But you were thinkin’ about it.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, and you and Sam smiled.

“(Y/N), honey, I didn’t mean to completely disregard you,” she smiled at you. “(Y/L/N)... where do I know that name from?” She pondered for a moment and her smile faded. “I knew your dad. Mean ol’ bastard.”

Your throat clenched. You could feel the boys looking at you, but you kept your eyes on Missouri.

“I don’t mean to embarrass you,” she went on. “I’m just sorry about what he did to you. And your brother? You poor thing.” She tsked.

Tears welled in your eyes.

Sam knew he should change the subject. “Okay. So, our dad— when did you first meet him?”

“He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say I drew back the curtains for him,” Missouri explained.

“What about the fire? Do you know about what killed our mom?” Dean questioned.

“A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin’ I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing.”

“And could you?”

You tried to focus on the conversation, but your throat was still choked up. You could vaguely register them talking about what Missouri sensed in their house and how she had been keeping an eye on the place since Mary’s passing. All you could focus on were the memories you were being pulled back into. Memories of what your father put you through and how your mother just stood by. Memories of defending your brother against your father’s wickedness. You tried your best to pull yourself back to the light; you knew Missouri could hear what you were thinking. You wouldn’t let yourself be weak enough to let your father hurt you eight years after his death.

“Baby, you are not weak.” Missouri’s voice pulled you back to shore. “I’m sorry I brought all that up for you.”

You nodded at her, voice too weak to respond. Sam squeezed your hand, and you could feel Dean’s gaze boring into the side of your head.

***

You and the boys headed back to their childhood home with Missouri. You still couldn’t register what was going on outside of your own head. You knew Missouri hadn’t truly brought anything up for you; these memories were all just buried under the surface for you. Hunting didn’t exactly leave much time for you to dwell on your emotions.

Jenny allowed Missouri to come into her home and showed her and your trio into Sari’s bedroom. You were beginning to come back to earth and could focus on the conversation happening around you.

“If there’s a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it,” Missouri explained, walking around Sari’s room.

“Why?” Sam asked.

Missouri turned to him. “This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened.”

Dean pulled out his repurposed walkman.

“That an EMF?” Missouri asked.

“Yeah,” Dean answered.

“Amateur,” she deadpanned.

You noticed the EMF was beeping frantically.

“I don’t know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain’t the thing that took your mom,” Missouri told the Winchesters.

“Wait, are you sure?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

She nodded.

“How do you know?”

“It isn’t the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It’s somethin’ different.”

“What is it?” Dean asked.

“Not it.” Missouri opened the closer. “Them. There’s more than one spirit in this place.”

“What are they doing here?” Dean asked.

“They’re here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected,” Missouri elaborated.

Sam shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It’s attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won’t rest until Jenny and her babies are dead.”

“You said there was more than one spirit.”

“There is. I just can’t quite make out the second one.”

Dean’s voice became hard. “Well, one thing’s for damn sure— nobody’s dyin’ in this house ever again. So whatever is here, how do we stop it?”

***

After Missouri taught you how to pack small protection bags that you and the boys were to place in the cardinal points on both floors in Jenny’s house, you had to get Jenny and her kids out of harm's way.

“Look, I’m not sure I’m comfortable leaving you guys here alone,” she told Missouri.

“Just take your kids to the movies or somethin’, and it’ll be over by the time you get back.”

You could tell the woman was still unsure, but she followed orders anyway. And with that, the four of you got to work.

When you were halfway done with the job, things started to get ugly. Just as you were about to place your second and final bag in the wall of Jenny’s bedroom, a cord snaked around your neck and pulled tightly. You dropped the bag of herbs to the ground; unable to get it into the wall in time. You gasped for air, frantically reaching for the bag but the spirit’s hold was too strong. Your vision began to spot and your face contorted in discomfort; doing the best you could to get air in your lungs. It was no use. Just when you thought it was over, Dean rushed to your side.

“(Y/N)!” he cried, pulling at the cord with all his might.

You clawed at your neck with one hand and motioned to the bag of herbs with the other. Dean understood what you were trying to say, and kicked a hole in the wall. He quickly put the bag inside, and your neck was released. Your head fell to the ground gasping for air.

Dean pulled you into a fierce hug that left you breathless. He pulled back from you, holding your face on either side. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. He gingerly touched the place where the cord had undoubtedly bruised your neck. “Can you stand?”

You nodded again. With Dean’s help, you made your way down to Missouri and Sam who stood in the middle of an extremely messy kitchen. Jenny’s kitchen table had been turned on its side with knives driven through the top of it, assumedly by the ghosts. The refrigerator door was swung wide open, and various items from the pantry had spilled out all over the place.

“You sure this is over?” Sam asked the psychic.

“I’m sure. Why? Why do you ask?”

Sam sighed in response. “Never mind. It’s nothin’, I guess.”

The front door opened.

“Hello? We’re home,” Jenny announced when she walked into the house. She came into the kitchen, dumbfounded by the mess. “What happened?”

"Hi, sorry. Um, we’ll pay for all of this,” Sam told her.

“Don’t you worry. Dean’s gonna clean up this mess,” Missouri added.

Dean stood glued to his spot.

“Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop.”

He glared at Missouri, but began walking away nonetheless.

“And don’t cuss at me!”

***

You remained confused by how Dean had hugged you for the rest of the night which you spent in the Impala parked in front of Jenny’s house.

“Alright, so, tell me again, what are we still doin’ here?” Dean asked his brother.

“I don’t know. I just… I still have a bad feeling,” he responded.

“Why? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over.”

“Yeah, well, probably. But I just wanna make sure, that’s all.”

Dean slumped down in his seat. “Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now.”

You slumped down in your seat, too, only to see Jenny screaming and banging on her bedroom window. “Guys, look!”

The three of you rushed into the house.

“You two grab the kids, I’ll get Jenny,” Dean said.

You nodded and sprinted to Ritchie’s room. The sleeping toddler was startled when you woke him up, but allowed you to carry him downstairs nonetheless. You met Sam by the front door who said to Sari, “Take your brother outside as fast as you can, and don’t look back.” She obliged and took the little boy from you.

Before the two of you could do anything else, you were slammed to the ground and dragged backward across the tile floor. You could hear poor Sari screaming as you and Sam were dragged away.

You were pinned to the wall by an invisible force and pushed up toward the ceiling. You could hear presumably Dean hacking away at the door, trying desperately to get in as a figure on fire approached you.

Dean made his way into the home and called your names frantically. He raised his gun at the fire figure when he caught sight of it.

“No, don’t! Don’t!” Sam cried.

“What, why?!” you asked.

“Because I know who it is. I can see her now.”

And then, the fire vanished revealing who you recognized from pictures as Mary Winchester. She was wearing a white nightgown and her blonde hair billowed softly around her. Her feet were bare, and her aging skin was only slightly wrinkled.

You could see tears rising in Dean’s eyes as he lowered his gun. “Mom?”

The woman smiled and stepped closer to him. “Dean.”

She walked toward you and her youngest son. “Sam.” Her smile faded. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked.

She looked at him sadly, but said nothing.

The woman turned to you last. “Thank you,” she said.

You smiled back at her, though you weren’t quite sure what she was thanking you for.

She turned away and looked up toward the ceiling. “You get out of my house. And let go of my son.” Her hair and nightgown were swept up into flames once more. The fire licked up to the ceiling, growing larger before disappearing entirely. You and Sam were released from the wall at once.

“Now it’s over,” Sam muttered.

***

The sun had risen while you and the boys were in the house. You called Missouri back to the Winchesters’ childhood home, and she sat on the porch talking with Sam.

You were standing with Dean by the car looking through his old family photos.

“Thanks for these,” Dean told Jenny.

“Don’t thank me, they’re yours.”

Dean put the trunk of photos and family memorabilia in the car. You and Dean bid Jenny, who thanked you, goodbye before leaning against the car together. The two of you knew you had a lot to talk about, but you weren’t brave enough to start the conversation.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked you.

You couldn’t look at him. “Why do you ask?”

“I think you know.”

You paused a moment before turning to face him. “I promise I’ll tell you, just… not today.” You stuck out your pinkie for him to take.

He chuckled at you. “What are we, five?”

“Just do it, asshole,” you smiled back.

He linked his pinkie with yours, shaking your hand back and forth lightly. The two of you stood there for a second, staring at each other and getting lost in the moment. Before long, you both realized what was going on and jerked away from each other.

Dean scratched his head. “Sam, you ready?” he called.

Sam nodded and came over to the car.

“Don’t you kids be strangers,” Missouri told you.

“We won’t,” Dean responded.

“See you around,” the woman winked at you.

You smiled at her before getting in the car and driving away.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @thepocketverse @simpingdeadcharacters @elqsiian @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @doublecrazyyymofo

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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wolfjackle-creates · 7 months

Text

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 18

Welcome to another WIP Wednesday!

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

Arc 1 AO3 Link

Arc 2: Part 1, Previous

Word Count: 1.7k

-----

From the radio station, the four traveled to the television studio for their next interview. The host had listened to their radio interview and helped summarize much of the information before asking further questions.

Tim and his teammates called into question the biases of the Drs Fenton and hoped their criticisms would bring others to think twice before taking their word as gospel.

When they were finally done, it was almost nine.

Tim shot off a quick text to Bruce for his morning check-in. He noticed Conner texting someone, too. “Who’re you talking to?” he asked.

“Sam. She says Danny’s still passed out. But her parents are talking about some sort of press release the mayor is planning on putting on at City Hall at ten.”

Cassie groaned. “Ugh, more reporters. Please say we don’t have to go.”

“We should,” said Tim. “But we can go in civvies.”

“Can we at least get breakfast first?” asked Bart. “It’s been hours since we woke up!”

“Yeah,” agreed Cassie. “I’m starving. Let’s get some food. I think I saw a diner when we flew to our second interview.”

Before Tim could consider protesting, Conner had him secure in his arms and TTK and they were in the air.

“Lead the way, Wonder Girl.”

Tim scowled to hide his smile. “Oh sure, don’t listen to your leader. Just do whatever.”

“You’d let us starve?” wailed Connor. “Then we’ll stage a mutiny!”

Cassie laughed. “Yeah, see how long you remain in charge of a hangry speedster, half-kryptonian, and demigoddess.”

Tim grinned. “Oh, but you forget I know you all very well. I can win you back to my side. Starting with Kon.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” demanded Conner.

“Easy. I’ll just bribe you with Alfred’s cookies and a great movie. If I add in a dash of ‘I need your help’ and my puppy dog eyes and you’ll be eating out of the palm of my hand.”

“That’s another square on my bingo card!” called back Cassie. “And look, we’re here!” She pointed down to a quintessential American diner with green glass windows.

The group met Bart a block away in an alley where they shed their gear.

“I’ll tell Sam what we’re up to.” Conner pulled out his phone to send the message.

“Quit wasting time! We’re on a deadline,” moaned Bart as he positioned himself behind Conner and tried to push him towards the street and breakfast.

Conner laughed and refused to budge, so Tim figured a demonstration of his power was in order.

He got in front of Conner and pouted at him. “I know I was joking about not allowing breakfast, but I’m the one who didn’t eat before the interviews. An omelet is calling my name.”

Conner groaned and ran a hand down his face. “Fuck you, Rob.” But he stalked forward out of the alley.

Tim and Bart exchanged grins.

“Seriously, Tim,” said Cassie. “This trip has been great for my bingo card.”

Tim stuck his tongue out at her and jogged to catch up with Conner.

Breakfast was simple but tasty and they devoured far too much food. Their waitress was clearly impressed with her first exposure to a speedsters appetite. Add in a super and a demigoddess and it was obscene.

All too soon, however, it was time to go to the mayor’s press conference. As they made their way there, they joined a growing crowd. Clearly many people were interested in whatever the mayor had planned.

In the crowd, he could hear comments about their interviews. It seems both had been posted online and already had thousands of views. Some people seemed to be sympathetic to them, but others were mistrustful of the “outsiders.”

“If they’re such good friends, why did it take so long for them to come here?” asked one man of his friend.

“I’ve a cousin in Central City. She says trouble always follows a superhero,” said another.

Tim exchanged a look with Conner. He’d be able to hear more conversations and could share his perceptions later.

Before long, they were entering City Hall. Already the seats were full, so they were forced to stand in the back. Jack and Maddie were sitting near the front. Jeremy and Pamela Manson sat on the opposite side of the room as them, but also were near the front of the room.

Tim exchanged looks with his teammates to make sure they saw both couples. Conner was glaring at Maddie and Jack.

“They’re complaining about our interviews,” said Conner. “Throwing around guesses that we are either possessed or have already been brainwashed by the ghosts.”

“At least we know they aren’t observant. Maybe they won’t notice us.”

Mayor Montez stepped up to the podium and everyone fell silent. “People of Amity Park, we have been faced with a threat the likes of which we’ve never before seen! And based on the events of this morning, it doesn’t seem like we’ll be able to rely on outside help to get us out of it.”

A stone sunk in Tim’s stomach and he exchanged looks with his friends.

“We only have one piece of business today: Defeating the ghosts that infest our town. And to do that, I'm calling for a vote to cede all ghost policing and security decisions”—he held up a photo of Maddie—“to Maddie Fenton.” As Tim watched, however, the mayor’s eyes glowed red and he winced. “I mean Jack,” he corrected, holding up a new picture of Jack Fenton. “The completely competent Jack Fenton.”

“He’s overshadowed,” breathed Conner.

Tim nodded and was already sending a message to Sam, Tucker, and Danny. “And who knows who else.”

Before they could say anything else, the mayor continued, “And we’ve located the ghost responsible for all the terror inflicted on our town.” He held up a picture of Phantom. “Whatever some outsiders may have tried to lie to you about this very morning.”

A gasp rang out among the crowd. Tim glanced at his friends. Conner was glaring at the mayor fiercely and Tim attempted to step in front of him, as pointless as their relative sizes made the action.

The mayor smiled viciously as a panicked crescendo rose from the crowd. Tim’s phone vibrated in his hand and he saw a response from Sam.

Sam: We saw Sam: Danny is on his way Sam: And we’re following as fast we can

Under his breath, Tim muttered, “Conner, you and Bart should go suit up. Cassie and I will stay and keep an eye on what’s going on. Stay close, but try not to be seen unless an attack happens.” Subtly, grateful for their places against the wall, he passed over the thermos he’d taken with him that morning.

Tim heard Conner’s sigh of relief as the two slipped away. He hated pretending to be a civilian in a crisis. Even more than the rest of them.

Cassie whispered, “I almost hate you for keeping me here.”

Tim just bumped their shoulders together.

The mayor, or rather the ghost inhabiting him, raised his arm and silence slowly fell. “We cannot call for outside help. Those who call themselves the Young Justice today proved that the so-called heroes of this world will defend our enemy over us. That they will spread lies to keep us subject to the whims of these ghosts.” The last word was spat. “So we must solve the problem ourselves. Jack Fenton, if the people of this town agree, you and those you train will be our defense force, will you do this?”

Jack near jumped three feet in the air in his excitement. “I’ve been training for this my entire life, Mayor Montez! I’ll be honored.”

“I believe we must institute martial law! The 9 PM curfew will remain in place. No one will be allowed on the streets alone. No loitering. The park will be closed until further notice. Same with the public pool and library and a number of other locations. Drs Fenton, will you be able to set up buildings protected by ghost shields where people can gather for safety?”

Whispering broke out among the public. Maddie stood tall next to her husband, though being continually overlooked in favor of him was clearly grating on her. “We can. Fenton Works is already protected and within two days we can have another shield up and ready. Within the week, we could have five.”

The whispered were almost loud enough to drown her out by the time she finished speaking

“Order! Order!” called Mayor Montez. “All in favor of declaring martial law, and allowing the completely competent Jack Fenton to mobilize a massive ghost hunt, please say—”

But cutting off the mayor, Danny, in his Phantom form, suddenly appeared in the air in the middle of the hall. “I might be too young to vote, but I’m casting one anyway.”

Around them, everyone gasped and people began backing away even as Danny shifted to look at them. Tim and Cassie both tensed and prepared to run.

“You people have to listen to me,” urged Danny. “I’m on your side.”

Mayor Montez took a step back as members of his security moved to stand in front of him. Jack and Maddie jumped up and glared at him.

“You’re not fooling anybody, ghost kid!” declared Jack. “You are going down!” He reached back and pulled out the Fenton fishing rod, the line was horribly tangled and Jack began messing with it. “As soon as I finish untangling this thing.”

Cassie let out a disbelieving huff.

Tim shook his head. “Apparently,” he replied to her unasked question. He pulled out his phone and shot a message to Bart and Conner.

Rob: get back here now Rob: All 4 of us are needed

Before he even finished typing his last message, Bart was at his side. Just in time to see Danny mutter something and shoot an ectoblast at his parents who were thrown back with the force of it, destroying the podium and leaving a burn mark on the ground.

“Shit,” muttered Tim. “Cassie, let’s go. Impulse, try to help where you can.”

“You’ve got it.”

----

And so the best of intentions go awry!

I can almost taste the end of this arc, but for all I know, that'll take another 10k to finish. So we'll see what happens. Hope you enjoyed.

I no longer do tag lists, but please check out the Subscription Post if you want to be notified of updates.

#dpxdc #now we find out the consequences of the interviews #amity parkers not trusting the JL will have zero consequences for the town #none at all #walker's plan is still going forward #and the worst is yet to come #*evil grin*

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 9 months

Text

Bedridden.

Imagine: Dean won't let you take care of him.

Pairing: Dean Winchester × Black Reader

Dean's been lagging and coughing. You suspect he's sick, but he's so damn stubborn. "Let me take your temperature," you insist, thermometer in hand. His cheeks are stuffed with Monster Burger, extra sauce dripping down his chin. He looks you up and down like you've lost your mind.

"No thanks, House."

You're pretty sure he's feverish. You touch his forehead. "Dean, you're burning up!"

"I'm hot-blooded.. like Roxette."

He's been on your Spotify account. He must've accessed your phone. No wonder Pornhub had found its way into your history. 'Busty ebony babes.'

"Let me take your temperature," you insist, hanging over him. If he's stubborn, so are you.

"Piece of advice? NEVER come between a man and his Monster Burger." He cuts his eyes at you, taking another heaping bite. You snatch the burger from his hand and sit it down, squeezing his chipmunk cheeks to push out the chewed beef and bun.

"Thank you." You ignore his wide green eyes as you force the thermometer under his tongue. "Hold still." After the beep, you swipe the string of spit on his shirt. He stifles another cough.

"You know, where I'm from, I'd get a cigar after something like that."

"Hush. I swear you bring the black mama out of me, stressing me out and shit... Yep. It's just as I thought. You DO have a fever."

Dean looks shocked. "Let me see that." He grabs the thermometer from your hand, tossing it with a sarcastic smile. "Problem solved." He grabs for his burger, but you take it hostage.

"When's the last time you had something healthy?"

"Are you-" He coughs. "That's literally a salad with protein and croutons!"

"This is high blood pressure and cholesterol."

"I don't care about 20 years from now. I care about now and right now you need to get it together." You look him in the eye as you trash the remains.

"Isn't it wonderful," he giggles. You glare motherly. "Oh, COME ON! It's not like we hunters have long life spans. I could die this week. You think I care about something that'll end me in 20 years?"

"NO!!!"

"Yes, Dean. You're sick right now and that's not gonna help you get better. Your body needs fuel."

"Bacon is fuel..."

You sigh, refusing to get caught in those green puppy dog eyes. "I'm making you some vegetables. When's the last time you had some broccoli or greens."

His face scrunches in disgust. "You want me to eat leaves? What am I, Thumper? I can't eat grass and twigs. Are you kidding me? Look at this body. You think I got these monster gains by grazing hay? No way, sweet cakes."

"Are the muscles in the room with us?" Your head tilts.

"Ha-ha.. I'm not eating green shit unless it comes on a beef patty between two buns and that's final.

"Boy shut up... You haven't had greens the black way. Let me hook some up and pop that food cherry." You smirk when he blinks in surprise. You start rinsing putting the greens you bought for yourself on the stove, meanwhile Dean is still delusional about his health. "In the meantime, you need to be in bed."

"That's an idea I can get behind... Would you be coming with me?"

"Hell no. You need to rest your body, hydrate, and get that fever down. Now, do what I say before I get irritable. Go upstairs to your room, get in bed."

"And do what!?"

His eyes look tired.

"Watch TV! Sleep!"

"I don't wanna," he pouts. You nearly forgot he raised himself AND Sam growing up. No wonder he's so stubborn. You kindly escort him to his room and ignore his cheesing when you remove his pants. You turn on his TV and find something you know will keep him in place for a few hours. A marathon of Walker Texas Ranger. "Fuckin Chuck Norris."

"Yes. Watch TV and I'll be up to check on you." You touch his forehead, still hot. He's pretending to be strong and unaffected by exhaustion and illness, but the second you step out... you put your ear to the door and listen to the facade drop. He's sighing, coughing as quietly as he can, and going through it privately. He's so stubborn.

You bring him a bowl of your southern soul greens and grits suddenly, he looks bright-eyed as if you didn't hear him. "Great!.. You brought me grass..." He takes a sniff.

"Yeah, it smells good don't it. You gone learn to trust me when it comes to food. There's more to cuisine than TV dinners, fast food, and turducken."

His eyes roll the second he puts the greens in his mouth. The moment his taste buds get a hit, you can see his soul leave his body.

"Oh my GOD," he grunts, having had an orgasmic experience.

"Told you so."

He pats the bed. "This is the one where Trivette goes undercover in a jail to eliminate a drug ring."

"No thanks," you smile, "I wouldn't watch Walker Texas Ranger, MASH, Clint Eastwood, none of it. Not even if you paid me."

"Oh come on, everyone likes Chuck Norris. He's Chuck Norris!"

"Overrated," you shrug. His jaw drops.

"You take that back you sicko."

"He's totally mid. The only reason you don't agree is because you grew up with him 200 years ago in the 80s."

His eyes narrow at you as he takes another mouthful of greens. On that note, you slip out of the room, a smirk on your face. The truth is the truth. You give him water, tea, and tylenol. When come back again, he's fallen asleep. It gives you time to take a little nap. You feel like a babysitter. It's the sound of keys jingling that wakes you up on the couch.

"Hm?" You sit up quickly, seeing Dean fully dressed with his boots and jacket. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"Beer run. I'll be brief."

"Dean, I swear. If I have to strap you down! Step out that door, I'll never sleep with you again," you rush. He closes the door quickly like you thought he might. "I don't know why you insist on torturing yourself. Sit your bowlegged ass down."

You sneeze.

"Aw shit," he sighs.

"Aw shit is right! You got me sick."

You can tell by his face he feels a tiny bit bad. He waddles over and eases down next to you, sitting a moment in silence. He's about to bring up Walker Texas Ranger again, you feel it. He turns to you and you hold up your hand.

"No.. Aht. No," you point.

"Fine..... But you're missing out on the baddest of rangers!"

"UGH!" He goes on and on and on and ON as you hold your head. "Do you want me to her into my Twilight discourse," you threaten. "Sounds like you want me to talk about Twilight." Instant retreat for him back up the stairs. You shake your head and sigh. "...Let me get me some of these damn greens."

@dashhoney25 @lettidarawest @soufcakmistress @ljstraightnochaser @princessstevens-blog @eye-raq @thiccdaddy-mbaku @destinio1 @iamrheaspeaks @hidden-treasures21 @bidibidibombaclaat @forbeautyandlife @blowmymbackout @misspooh @thotyana-in-this-hoe @purplehairgawdess @thegucciwaffle @goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @thadelightfulone @sultanabby @mysticalblackhottie @baekhyunbabybunni @fd-writes @richonne4life @thehomierobbstark @capswife @blackpinup22 @harleycativy @lishabaybeee-blog @playgurlxoxo

#original #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x black reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x black!reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #black fanfiction #black fanfic writer

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inthemytdl · 9 months

Text

Teenage Dream

Summary: Jack prepares for his first date (with a girl)

Note: she/her pronouns

“Are you sure?” Jack brushed down the black shirt and army style jacket Dean gave him.

The sleeves went a couple inches past his hand, so he had to roll them up to fit properly. The shirt, on the other hand, fit well.

“Trust me, chicks dig the bad boy look,” Dean said. “A little dirt, a little grime. Works every time.”

Jack had never been on a date before, but he imagined dressing nicer than this. Wearing his FBI suit, maybe. It was the nicest one he owned and the sleeves fit perfectly.

He turned to Sam. “Is that true?”

“Sometimes,” Sam said, without looking up from his computer.

But Jack had seen a good amount of romance films and couldn’t imagine Sam as the bad boy in any of them. In his mind, he was always the nice guy. The hero.

“Did you think you’d go in your FBI suit?” Dean laughed. “This is a date, kid, not a case.”

“I like that suit. Cass says blue is my color.”

Cass nodded. “It’s true. And that”—he pointed at Jack—“is horrible.”

“Hey!” Dean shouted. “That’s style. Army green, simple tees. That’s in right now. It’s all over the mags.”

“Mags?” Sam said.

“Magazines. God, you guys are old.”

Jack watched the scene unfold. Dean was doing that thing where he pretended to be young again while Sam groaned and Cass filed his nails against the wooden table. Usually, he’d let it go on, but there were just thirty minutes until his date with you and he still didn’t have an outfit.

“I don’t have time for this!” Jack shouted. His skin was hot like when he used his powers.

“Woah. Relax. It’s just a date,” Dean said.

“He’s never been on a date before, Dean,” Sam countered.

“So? Neither has Cass and he’s doing fine.”

“Dating, love, relationships. Those are human things,” Cass said. “Trivial.”

“Trivial?” Dean craned his neck toward him and the pair erupted into yet another argument as Sam approached Jack.

“It doesn’t matter what you wear,” he said. “Just be yourself. Girls can tell when you’re faking.”

“They can?” Jack felt more nervous than before. It was all too human. And he was only half of that. He wasn’t used to having sweaty palms or a butterfly-filled stomach. He thought he was sick the first time he felt their flutter before Sam explained that it was normal.

“Uh, yeah. Sometimes,” Sam coughed. “But you’ll be fine.” He gave him those puppy dog eyes he gave families when working a case: his attempt to take half of their pain. It worked sometimes. Jack was grateful it worked now.

“Okay,” he said, leaving to change.

He hurried to his room and put on a white button up paired with a brown suit. That blue tie he loved. He stopped for a moment to look in the mirror, did an awkward smile, then made his way back to the command center.

The chaos had died down by the time he arrived, and all three of the boys sat around the table listening to Sam. Jack overlooked the scene from the head of the table. This was one of the few times the bunker was quiet: when one of them was talking and the others listened. And that was rare. Most days, they talked over each other.

“Woah. Look at you.” Sam was first to notice him. His dimples pinched his cheeks as he smiled.

“Much better,” Cass rasped.

Dean scrunched his face and made his way over to him. Jack wiped sweaty palms down his blazer. Dean was never all that nice to him, but a couple months in the bunker and they had become somewhat of a family.

“You’ve got to learn how to properly tie a tie,” Dean said, and he adjusted it for him. “There. Not as good as before but… decent.” He nodded, then fished in his pocket and produced silver keys. “Here.”

“You’re letting me drive the impala?” Jack said.

“Don’t make me regret it.”

Sam clapped. “Alright, go get ‘em, tiger.”

A rush of energy overcame Jack, though he couldn’t tell why. It might’ve been confidence or nerves or something entirely different—he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t used to feeling this way. He had grown accustomed to fear and adrenaline. Love, even. But never romantic, and never like this.

This would be the first time he went on a real date, and one where no one tried to kill him. He felt prepared; he knew what to do. Once he got to the restaurant, he would pull your chair out for you, you’d talk, and then you’d fall in love with him.

There was only one thing he was unsure about.

“What should I say when I get there?” he asked.

“I read in a Teen Vogue magazine it’s custom to talk about your interests,” Cass said.

“Zombies?”

“No—no zombies!” Dean said. “For the love of god, no zombies.”

“Just follow her lead, okay?” Sam said.

Jack nodded, making a mental note of all the advice he’d be given. But if he wasn’t allowed to talk about zombies, what would he talk about?

“Uh, kid.” Dean laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not moving.”

“I’m not?”

“No,” Cass said. “You’ve been standing in Dean’s beer puddle for thirty seconds now.”

“Oh.” He felt the liquid squish below his feet.

“Here, I’ll walk you.” Sam placed a hand on his back and led him to the door.

“You’ll call me if you need help?”

Leaving during a case felt wrong—like when he finished a box of cereal and it didn’t have a toy in it or when he waved at someone and they didn’t wave back—but Sam insisted he go.

“Yeah,” Sam said, opening the door for him.

Jack lifted a slow hand and waved goodbye.

Sam smiled and waved back; gave him that look that took half his nerves, half his pain. Then the door shut and it was time for his date.

#jack kline #jack kline blurbs #jack kline x reader #jack kline fics #jack kline x yn #supernatural fics #jack kline oneshot #spn fics #jack winchester #jack kline imagine #supernatural fanfiction

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shiny-jr · 2 years

Note

Have you ever thought of the imposter au with the staff of raven College? I could just imagine Crewel being the reason the reader is summoned to twst while not fulling knowing it (Probably coming in at the end to safe then after realize shits going down). That and maybe Crowley and Vargas going full mad dog and just chasing the reader like crazy. Maybe Trein tripping over his cat while chasing and reader/imposter feeling bad about it. Along with Sam using shadow creature to track the imposter down. Just a fun ideas I've been having, feel free to ignore.

I have thought about it before. I believe I even once mentioned that I would make a separate post for it eventually. Recently been thinking about platonic yan staff, so like fatherly type stuff for those of you with daddy issues.

Platonic yan Crowley! Wants to be your father figure so bad. Why won't you let him take you under his wing? You'd be his little fledgling! Ah, he must do his best to protect you! He is the headmaster of a prestigious school with unfortunately many arrogant troublesome students. Often he'll dramatically lament, inquiring why you don't wish to spend time with your dear old father? When you reply with a deadpan, "You're not my dad, Crowley." He'll break out into a melodramatic wail, oh woe is him that his own child does not wish to partake in any activities with him! Ah–– a way home, you ask? Well, during one of his many hours long searches in the library to find you a way home, something he adamantly assures you he's been doing, he had the most profound idea which he shall so graciously share with you! Why not stay in Twisted Wonderland and allow him to formally adopt you? Then you shall be his child and he will be sure to provide you with all the love and care you need! Isn't he a genius with such boundless benevolence?

Platonic yan Divus! Probably believes the whole world is out to get you. You poor little thing, far from home, lost and afraid, with no where else to go. Eventually he'll begin to doubt that Crowley is taking proper care of you, and deem his efforts as inadequate. Look at this wretched place, an old dorm filled with cobwebs and ghosts is supposed to be your home? An old oversized uniform and a handful of cheap worn clothes from the shop are all you have to wear? And your classmates, his own students, oh he knows what they're like. A bunch of ruthless mischief making pups! This is unacceptable! Divus will spoil you like his own. He has a soft spot for you, so when he's improving your conditions and getting rid of the old dirtied items, you hold up that feral monster cat and go, "Can I at least keep Grim? Please?" Ah, the puppy eyes. How could he say no to you? But that cat is getting a bath first. Oh, and he's incredibly wary of all the students. In his eyes, none of them are good enough to be your friends, and he's beginning to suspect all of them of trying to take advantage of you. Listen here, darling, you are not to trust any other men besides himself, are we clear?

Platonic yan Vargas! Oh god, not another one. Somehow, he's worse than the other two dads you've acquired. Especially because he thinks your escape attempts are some sort of crazy athletic training regimen. He's come to think of your monthly escape attempts as survival training, so not only is he enjoying himself but he's more than capable of keeping up and capturing you. Then dragging you back to NRC with a proud grin, boasting about how you got so much further than last time! "Let me go! Let go of me!" That's the spirit, he cheers. Seems like you're raring to train again, but now's the time regain your energy for next month! Eagerly tells you stories about his youth, how he was the strongest and most popular! He really wants you to look up to him, and he likes to think he's your favorite dad. Especially when it comes to Crewel, let's say they have differing opinions on how to properly care for you. While his counterpart prefers to pamper you, Vargas believes you need more activity and excitement in your life! Wouldn't you agree with him? Come on, give him a smile now!

Platonic yan Trein! The only real dad on the list. He has two sons that are already full adults now, and he believes you'd get along wonderfully with them. You would be their new younger sibling. "That's kinda... dumb. I'm not their sibling though." You comment, as he responds, it is not foolish to want all three of his children to get along. It's a bit annoying that you can never really get on his nerves, despite him being notoriously strict and a little intimidating with his stoic look. But like most of the dads on this list, he too has a weak spot for you. He still expects you to be a well-behaved though. No matter what you're like, he can handle it. After all, he's been a professor at NRC for so long, that he's seen and taken care of countless students. If you're looking for quiet time, he's probably the best to be with by far. He'll let his feline familiar Lucius sit on your lap as he serves you a platter of cookies with a hot beverage. When you do try to get on his nerves for whatever reason, it never works, so you end up plopping down beside him on the couch in defeat, angrily opening a magazine as he calmly continues to read a book. Now that the opportunity has present itself, he'd like to have a word with you. You should know that you are his pride and joy. That being said, should any of his students be pestering you, inform him immediately and he'll handle it promptly.

Platonic yan Sam! Most likely the best one to be with. It doesn't even feel like he's trying to be your dad, he's more like a cool but still concerning weird uncle. But if you had to classify him as a dad, he'd be the chill one. Although it is scary that he seems to know way more about you than you ever told him about. You suspect it has something to do with his friends on the other side. Whenever you're not with him, you have spied an oddly moving shadow or two... But the upside about that is, he always seems to know what you want. If it's small, he'll offer it for free. If it's a bigger item, he'll let you have it if you work the shop with him for a few hours. What's say you, huh? Sound like a deal? He'll entertain you a trick or two while you're here! Sam likes to call you his little good luck charm, because you tend to bring in more customers and just put him in a good mood. He choses to trust you, more than the other dads, probably because he knows you can't escape because he's always watching you somehow. You go on ahead, just be back by dark, you hear? He wouldn't want to send his friends to force you back home if you stay out late, m'kay?

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alexsoenomel · 2 years

Text

Dreamy Skirts (Sam Winchester x Reader Smut)

Summary: Sam likes you in your skirt so a night out turns into something cheeky.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: oral sex

Word count: 1504

Note: This was a dream I had when I was 18. Enjoy! Like/reblog or both if you like it! :)

“I think I’m going to like it here.” Sam said excited while putting his bag and backpack on the bedroom floor.

It was summer and after he and his brother almost got killed on a hunt you decided enough was enough. You needed a break from everything. Nothing bad was happening in your area so you decided to take a trip to Miami. You planed the whole thing just the three of you. Hotel by the beach with great food and even found Dean a separate room which made him very happy. You and Sam tend to be….loud, sometimes.

“I think so too.” You smiled.

“Perfect time to catch up on my reading.”

“Just how many books have you brought with you Sam?” You asked knowing his book worm tendencies.

“Maybe, possibly 3?” He said looking down shyly.

You smiled remembering how you liked watching him read, the way he would get lost in the book made you happy more than the words can explain. You got closer to him wrapping your hands around his body pulling him into a tight hug. His hands rested on your back drawing small cycles on it.

“I love you. Thank you for convicting me to go on this vacation with you. I need it.”

“I love you too. And I know you do. I was worried about you. Sometimes I really hate being a hunter. ”

He smiled. “I know.”

Day one you slept in. Neither swimming nor going out, you were dead tired from the drive, so you spent in bed talking about life and eating junk food. Dean on the other hand had other things to do….like get laid.

Day two on the other hand was different. Unforgettable. After spending the whole day on the beach you wanted to go out and have a drink. Sam on the other hand wanted to go to bed at 9pm.

“But I’m tired.” He said. “And don’t really want to drink.”

“Pretty please?” You made a sad puppy dog face hoping he would surrender.

“We spend all day swimming where do you find the energy?” He asked and got under the covers on his side of the bed. He was wearing his black boxers and a white shirt aka his pajamas.

“I always have the energy for alcohol.” You simply said. “Come on it will be fun…plus…” You got closer to him and kissed his cheek. “I will wear something nice for you.” You whispered into his ear sending shivers down his spine.

“You are making this very hard for me (Y/N).”

“That’s the point genius.” You lowered your lips onto his neck feeling him breathe nervously. “Oh come on.”

“If I go now, tomorrow I want to just sit by the pool and read.” He finally said.

“Deal tomorrow will be our book club day.”

“Fine.” He got up, took his clothes from his bag and went towards the bathroom to get ready.

“Love you.” You said.

“I know you do.” You heard him say.

While he was in the bathroom you took the time to get ready. You decided a black high waisted skirt and a white crop top was the way to go. You didn’t wear skirts but when you did (some cases demanded a more classy wardrobe choices) you would always catch Sam staring and undressing you with his eyes while licking those god damn perfect lips of his. Teasing him to get what you want was your favorite pastime. The fact was you have always been a shy girl with so little confidence, but being with Sam gave you something you never knew you had, freedom. It was freeing to know you could do anything you wanted and make the first steps without getting judged or criticized. As you were about to do your makeup in front of the mirror that was near the bed you shared, Sam finished with the bathroom. He decided to wear pants and a flannel shirt. Classic Winchester. When he entered the room he saw you getting lost in your makeup bag looking for god knows what. He stood there leaning on door frame looking at you and thinking how beautiful you looked and how no other human being had made him feel the way you did. He was lost in your beauty and fragileness in that very moment, but he also thought how sexy you looked in that skirt and how he suddenly had an urge to be underneath it making you moan his name over and over again.

Suddenly he wrapped his strong arms around your small frame and started kissing your neck which he knew it was your weakest link. You put your eyeliner on the table as soon as you felt his lips on your skin. You smirked looking at the mirror.

“So you are not tired after all?” You teased.

“I don’t think I am anymore.” He said between kisses.

“I need to put on some make up I want to look good for you.”

His hand traveled up in your skirt feeling your delicate skin of your inner thigh on his fingertips. A sigh escaped from your lips. Oh how you liked when he did that.

“You don’t need makeup.” His hand moved between your legs causing you to moan a little. “You are perfect without it.” Sam’s confidence had always been a huge turn on for you. Suddenly you weren’t in the mood for drinks anymore.

“What has gotten into you Sammy?” You asked seductively biting your lip. “Is it the skirt?”

“Maybe…”He smirked. His hand was still underneath your skirt, slowly rubbing you through your panties. You got on your tiptoes and moaned even louder this time. “I really like it.”

“I’m glad you do.” You managed to say as you turned to face him. You place the tip of your index finger on his lips feeling its wetness and warmth. “So no drinks tonight then?”

“Seems like it.”

“Perfect.” You said and kissed him. He kissed back with no hesitation, with even more passion and fire making your body ache for him. You became needy and vulnerable under his touch. Breaking the kiss you took his hand and sat on the edge of the bed pulling him closer to him for another kiss. He bit your lower lip instantly knowing you would whimper as he pushed you down on the bed. He was right, you did whimper a little. You always do. You moved upwards onto the bed while Sam was on top of you balancing himself with his elbows. You took the shirt off with ease showing off your white bra as Sam watched you closely like you were an art form. When you tried to take of your skirt he stopped you.

“Don’t.”

“Sammy do you actually have a thing for my skirts? Because I have seen you stare multiple times.”

“I’m guilty. I can’t help it.”

“God I love you.” You said feeling like the luckiest person alive. And you indeed were.

“Likewise (Y/N)” Sam smiled and started to kiss your neck again. You tugged on his gorgeous locks of hair while his hand went underneath your skirt again. His kisses moved on your collar bones then between your breasts making you weak and needy while his hand worked the same magic again making you wet by the minute. When his mouth was close to the hem of your skirt he stopped to look at you. You were panting from just his kisses looking at the blank ceiling. He smirked and moved his head between your legs and you lost him. Suddenly he took off your panties. Dear Lord….

A few seconds passed and you could feel your body coming alive from all that pleasure he was giving you with his tongue.

“Sammy…” You moaned. “Fuck.”

The pleasure kept building up until you found yourself moaning uncontrollably. “I THINK I’M GONNA-“

And you did. Stood up on his knees between your legs with his chin shining. He took off your skirt and whipped himself clean before he kissed you again.

His clothes soon after went on the floor and your hands were all over his skin. You flipped him at one point so you were now on top of him kissing and biting him more than you should. You were such a tease sometimes. He was in his boxers so you took the chance to feel his hardness…

“What’s that?” You suddenly asked.

“What?”

“That song? Are you serious?” You laughed.

Someone played Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley. You thought for a second it came from the outside but the truth was it was your alarm. Your little paradise disappeared and you woke up all hot and bothered. It was Monday and time for work. You were still single and Sam still wasn’t real.

“Are you fucking serious?!” You whispered angrily and turned the alarm off forcing yourself back to sleep. Fuck work. Fuck everything...for like 5 more minutes.

Mondays were truly great.

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sturnioloblogs · 3 months

Text

Tipsy

Y/n x sturniolos

Summary: you are the sturniolos younger sister, they are very protective over you and one night you come home from a party thet they specifically told you not to go to, what will happen when they find you at the party a little tipsy? Are they mad?

Extras: In this you are 15 and your brothers are 20. You live in LA with them. Your best friends name is Lyla. Lyla’s older brother‘s name is Sam.

Warnings: being drunk? Underage drinking. Swearing/language. Arguing. And I think that’s it lmk if I forgot anything.

A/n: Re-blogs are appreciated!!! hiiii soooo this is my first ever story. I really hope you like it and leave requests💕 I also write stories on my phone, so I’m so sorry that I don’t have the word count!!

A/n: Not proof read!

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

I had spent my whole day trying to find the perfect outfit for tonight. You may ask, what’s happening tonight? Well I got invited to this party by the popular boys that all the girls drool over.

Luckily my friend also got invited, so I wouldn’t be all alone not knowing anyone and being hella awkward.

I have been to only been to a few party’s before this, so I’m kinda knew to this. My brothers have always let me go somewhere as long as they have my location and they know who’s hosting, and how old the people are going to be.

I just have one problem. I’m 15 and the host are 17. And I haven’t even even told them I was going yet.

In my mind that’s not really a big deal and it isn’t! But to my brothers it’s like the world would end. And you might just say I could lie, and well I could. But let me just say I am horrible at lying.

When I lie I start to stutter over my words, and it’s really obvious, especially when you have 3 older brothers that are five years older than you AND very protective.

I was sitting on my bathroom counter doing my make up and getting ready for the party, while listening to White Girl, by Shy Glizzy my new favourite song at the moment.

I had this beautiful black dress on that hugged my curves, perfectly in all the right areas. My hair was perfectly curled and my make up was just the way I wanted it.

As I hopped of the counter to spray some perfume on, my older brother Nick walked into the washroom.

“Hey y/n do you have a- WHOA sis you look awsome where are you going?!” I spun my body around to see Nick standing at the doorway with an empty tube of toothpaste, i’m assuming that’s what he wanted. “Oh I was just getting ready for this party that I was wondering if I could go to? But don’t worry I was already planning to go with Lyla, so I won’t be alone” I looked at him with puppy dog eyes. I knew Nick wouldn’t be the problem at all but Matt and Chris would. ”Well you know that I’m gonna say yes but Matt and Chris probably have a different answer” He said rolling his eyes.

Nick was probably the most supportive brother I had. And probably the least protective, which I didn’t mind.

“Ugh I knowww can you please just help me try to convince them if they don’t let me?” I asked ”of corse that’s what I’m here for!” Nick said giggling.

I walked down the stairs, Nick, following close behind. I had my converse in one hand (I know those aren’t dress-up shoes, but I wear them with EVERYTHING) and my phone, and the other.

Chris and Matt were sitting at the table eating supper, it was already about 7:30 pm, and Lyla was picking me up at 7:45 so I had to leave soon.

As soon as they both laid eyes on me, their conversation immediately stopped. Chris spoke up first by saying “where the hell are you going?” “So I was just wondering if I could go to this party? I’m going with Lyla so I won’t be alone! Please?” I say, almost repeating the exact same thing I said to Nick earlier.

Matt and Chris both looked at each other with an annoyed face, almost like they both knew the answer, without even thinking. “Who’s going and how old is the host?” Matt asked picking up some more food off his plate.

Oh shit well I’m actually fucked. Like I said, I am 15 and the host are 17.

So I decide that I am going to try and lie my way out of this.

“The h-host I-is” I was unexpectedly cut off by Matt saying “cut the shit y/n don’t try and lie and just tell us the truth.” I swallowed dryly, and started talking again “okay well the host is 17, a-and you might think that is bad.. and well it might be, but the people with only be 15 or 16!” This time I turned around to look at Nick while giving him “please back me up” eyes. “No” Chris said in annoyed voice. “What?! No Chris please! I have been waiting so long to go J-just please!” “Y/n we said no! Now go to your room before you get grounded!” Matt said raising his voice.

Tears prickled, my waterline, as I brushed past Nick and stomped back up the stairs to my room. I slammed shut and flopped on my bed to call Lyla I was mad, they never let me do anything.

(On call with Lyla)

“God they never let me do anything!”

“Well did you try and lie? I know you’re not the best at lying, but did you at least try?”

“Yes of course I tried! And you know how it goes I just stutter and fuck everything up”

“Wait have you ever snuck out?”

“Lyla you want me to sneak out?”

“I mean it’s worth a shot! And if you do my brother can still pick you up in 10”

“Fuck it, see you in 10”

(After call)

I have never snuck out before, and I knew it was risky. But my window was the top floor. I know that my sound bad, but there was a shed right underneath that, I could easily jump onto and onto the ground to get out.

And with that, I quickly tied my shoes, grabbed my phone and hopped onto the roof.

Let’s just say it wasn’t as easy as I expected, as soon as I got to my roof, I tripped and scraped my knee along the rough shingles. Then when I tried to jump down onto the shed, I realized the kitchen window was right next to it. And all my three brothers were still sitting at the table. I knew I would have to be extra quiet getting down. Luckily, this wasn’t in broad daylight but I still could have got caught easily.

After about 10 minutes, I finally got down, and walked down the street only a few blocks, so, my brothers wouldn’t see Sam’s car.

As the car pulled up, I hopped in the back with Lyla.

“Hey girl!!” She said pulling me into a warm hug. “Hiiii” I said, chuckling at her sudden hug “oh hey sam thanks for driving me” I say smiling at him as he turns around to look at me “no problem” he replies with a warm smile.

Luckily, the party wasn’t too far away, so it wasn’t that long of drive. It was fun tho me and Lyla gossiping about boys, and the best part was me telling her how I actually managed to get out of my house, and almost dying on my way down.

We slowly made our way up the long driveway, revealing the huge house in front of us. It was white with a bunch of huge palm trees in the front. There was blasting music lights, and a lot of people. I was definitely intimidated. this was probably the biggest party I have ever went to.

“You ready?” Lyla asked me, making me forget all about being scared “yeah let’s do it!” I said.

We said bye to Sam and started walking up to the house. We recognized a bunch of the people, because they were mostly all from our high school. But there were definitely a couple older people that I did not know.

As soon as I stepped in the house, the smell of weed and alcohol filled my system, giving me not needed anxiety. I was already worried about sneaking out, and on top of that the party was huge.

A couple of hours went by since I got to the party. me and Lyla have been taking shots left right and centre and living our lives. At this point, the alcohol had almost taken over me and I loved it. I wouldn’t wanna say I was drunk, but I was definitely tipsy. “Heyyy Lyla I need to go take a piss I’ll be back” I said, chuckling at my choice of words, she just nodded to me and continued to move her hips to the beat of the music.

I pulled out my phone and began scrolling through messages, while still walking, definitely not paying attention to anything in front of me.

Then all of a sudden it felt like I hit a brick wall. I quickly mumbled a “sorry”. Before I could walk three steps a rough hand grabbed my wrist pulling me back. “What the f-!” I quickly shut myself up by looking up to see Matt glaring down at me. He didn’t even say a word before dragging me across the floor “Matt st-“ I tried to protest and pull back, but he only yelled at me and pulled me harder “shut the fuck up!!”

He was mad. Very mad.

How did he find me? Did I have my location on? Did they hear me talk to Lyla? Are Chris and Ni-

My thoughts were immediately cut off by Matt opening the door to the mini van and throwing me into the back. He locked the door and called someone.

A few minutes later, Chris and Nick come running out of the house looking so mad, this is probably the biggest trouble I have ever been in.

Chris opened the passenger door, and plopped himself in the seat while glaring holes thought my body. I felt the doors open again and now see Nick and Matt both get into the car.

I wasn’t really expecting Nick to be that mad, but boy was I wrong.

“What the fuck is wrong with you y/n?!!!” Nick said shouting at me, as I began to feel the car start to move. “We specifically told you not to go!! S-something could have happened!” Chris said adding on.

I didn’t say anything.

All I did was look at them with tears slowly streaming down my face. I was embarrassed. I shouldn’t have gone.

But I did and I can’t go back now.

𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹

A/n Okay so if you guys want I can make a part 2? If you want me to add anything to part 2 definitely let me know!

But if you don’t wanna part 2 I won’t bother with making it.

Send other requests please!! re-blogs are appreciated

@sturniolos-blog here goes nothing😭😭

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