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Big Baby Booty - Dad!Dean x M!Toddler!Winchester!Reader

Inspired by myself telling my nephew he has a big baby booty....

Summary: You think it’s funny when you put your nappy-covered butt in Dean’s face Age: 2

Dean wakes up to something pressing against his face. He raises his hands to feel your small body.

“(Y/N).”

Small giggles escape from you as Dean sits up and settles you on his thighs, his back against the headboard of his bed.

You stand up on his thighs and bend over, your hands in between the space of his legs. Giggles fill the room.

“What are you doing, baby?” Dean asks, picking you up to be face-to-face with him, yourself being upside down.

“He doing the butt-face thing?”

Dean looks up to see Sam leaning against the door frame of his room.

Setting you up right and standing you in the space of his legs, “Woke up to it.”

You waddle towards your uncle to let him pick you up and onto his shoulders. “It is pretty funny.”

“Yeah, to the both of you.”

Sam sees you waddle into the library with a banana smashed in one of your chubby hands.

He looks at his sleeping brother slumped on the table. 

An idea pops into his head.

He stands up to take you into his hands and places you on the table near your father.

Sam sits back down in his seat and motions for you to turn around.

You do and lean against your hands, your butt towards Dean.

“Da!”

He jolts up to have his face touch your nappy. He leans back in his seat, groaning as you and Sam laugh.

“Sam!”

“What did I do?”

“You convinced my son to put his big baby booty in my face.”

“I just placed him in front of you and he did that on his own.”

Looking at you still in the position, your butt still in the air, “You love putting your big baby booty in my face.” He grabs you and settles you in his lap.

You start to munch on the banana as him and Sam go back to researching.

Finishing on your snack, Dean cleans the remains off your hand to have you put your hands on the table and lean forward as if you’re reading the book in front of the both of you.

Dean gives Sam a deadpan look over your small body.

Sam chuckles at the sight in front of him.

“He gets his booty from you.”

Hey! I had a idea that the reader is Sam and Deans little sister (13 or 14) and she gets spelled or something to make her go crazy like see stuff talk to walls stuff like that and she ends up in a mental hospital and breaks out and the boys and maybe Cas find her while they’re on a hunt and realise how badly messed up she is please ?♥️

Hey! This kinda sounds like me as I’d sometimes talk to myself :p

Talking Like I’m Crazy

Dean carries your sleeping form into the bunker, Cas and Sam trailing behind him.

Reaching your room, across from Dean’s, he opens the door and settles you underneath the covers.

Sam and Cas are standing outside your room, watching Dean slowly and silently close the door.

“I-I don’t think there’s anything we can do. We already killed the witch and (Y/N) is still the way she is.” Sam says softly.

The three walk off into the library and try to figure out how to get you back to normal. 

A few minutes pass to have the three hear your voice out in the halls. They get out of their seats to follow your voice.

They stop in the hall you’re in to see that you’re talking to the wall, making the angel and your brothers think that you’re having a full conversation as if someone’s there.

“You okay, kid?” Dean asks, cutting you off mid-sentence. You nod, “Yeah, I’m good.”

You walk past them to get to the kitchen, continuing on with your conversation.

A few hours pass to have you and Cas sitting on a bus bench.

A small bus pulls up, the door opening and small chatters in between the other people in the vehicle

“You sure this is going to help?” You ask the angel.

“I hope so.” With a hug goodbye, you walk onto the bus with the door closing behind you.

You settle in the back seat with your bag, tears stinging your eyes. You look to the free spot next to you as if someone said your name and asked if you’re okay.

“I’m alright. I hope this helps, too.”

Some of the people and the driver takes a quick glance at you, thinking you were talking to one of them.

With everyone asleep and the lights out, you have your bag packed after staying at the mental hospital for two nights.

You take a glance to the sides of the hallway to make sure no one was out.

Sneaking quietly past the sleeping guard, you manage to get away.

Later into the night, you’re still walking on the side of the road, following the treeline.

Your shadow appears, giving you a small fright. You chuckle at yourself. 

The car that made your shadow appear stops with the doors opening.

Two taller bodies stop in front of you, their figures being similar. 

“(Y/N), what are you doing out here?” Sam asks.

Him and Dean look up and down at your body, seeing the hospital pants and shirt you’re wearing.

“I didn’t want to be at that place anymore, I can’t. They tell me when to go bed, when to take my meds! I-I just can’t be there anymore!” Tears sting your eyes.

The two wrap their arms around you, yourself relaxing in their warmth. They give each other worried looks.

Sam picks you up, your arms against in between his and yours chests and your legs loosely hanging by his hips.

He sits where he usually does in Baby, yourself still cradled in his arms. Dean puts your bag in the back seat before sitting behind the wheel to continue driving.

When Sam feels your body completely relax and your breathing has evened out, he softly says, “I’ve done more research. She’s stuc-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Sammy, just don’t.” 

Dean looks at you, taking in the view of your sleeping face towards his way, half of your face pressed against Sam’s chest. 

It reminds him of when you were a baby. It was the only way to put you to sleep, when you had a nightmare, or when you or them just wanted cuddles.

The nightmares and cuddles thing still happens.

Putting his eyes back on the road, in the corner of his eyes, he sees Sam lean his head against yours. Dean releases his hand to curl his pinky with yours.

“Even though she’s gonna be like that for a while, we’re gonna help her along the way.”

Hello! Could you please write one where misha and his boyfriend are cuddling and misha is playing with his hair while telling him stories of his life. All I need is this man to hold and love me 🥺

Hello! I can write this for you :p but idk what to write with the stories of his life, so I’m just gonna some of the pranks J2 did to him sometimes or something. I hope that is alright🥺 and I’m sorry that this is short

Cuddle Time

Misha has one of his hands run through the strands of your hair. Your body is on top of his as the both of you are on the couch, watching some random movie.

Your fluffy blanket is covering your bodies. You bring the end of it to cover your mouth.

“This is getting kinda boring.” You mumble, the blankets muffling the words.

“What do you want to do?”

“Hear that pie prank story.” Shifting your body, it’s pressed against Misha’s side and the back of the couch.

Chuckles go through his body, “There’s a couple.”

“Don’t care,” you nuzzle yourself more into his body.

He starts to start one of the pie stories, along with playing with your hair again.

What about one where Michael ( in Dean or Adam) is like " i hate humans they are disgusting" but when It comes for his s/o he is like * blushing hard * " i love you babyboy/girl, you are royalty to me and you are my prince/princess"

Can I have a partner that does this? Or something similar to it? 🥺

Humans Are Disgusting, But My Partner Isn’t

Michael’s body shudders as if he felt a spider crawled up his leg as he continues to see people walk past him.

He’s leaning against the space between two connected shops as he’s waiting for you. 

You’re currently in a store, trying to find something.

Michael sighs, tired of waiting for you outside. He goes into the store to find you at the other end of it.

“Come on, baby. You’ve been in here for 10 minutes.”

“And I said I was gonna be roughly around 15.” You don’t take your attention off the shelves.

“Roughly, aye?” (I am so fucking sorry, that just popped into my head as I re-read the fic...)

“I’m gonna get my angel blade and I’m gonna make it be rough with you in the stomach.”

Immediately, he quietens down. He then groans whilst wrapping his arms around your body from behind.

“Come on, I love you, baby boy, but I have some things to do and you know that I find these humans disgusting.”

You turn your head to give him a raised eyebrow. His cheeks are tinted pink, going to a darker colour.

“You are the only human I do not find disgusting. You are royalty to me and you are my prince.”

Grabbing the thing you needed, you paid for the object and out of the store you and your angel boyfriend are.

When no one’s looking, he zaps the two of you back to the abandoned building you’re staying at.

As he’s at the table, his back to you, you throw a pen at his head, himself turning to look down at the pen, then at you, who’s resting in the love-seat.

“You’re lucky I love you, angel.”

Hii, so, i Just read your Michael fic and now i need more Michael things, so, could you write one where Michael and cas( the other love of my life) start to have a crush in the same boy, but they don't know How to handle their feelings, and cas gets confuse and michael thinks the reader cursed him, but in some moment they start to compete for the reader attention and get jealous of him with the other angel, you can chouse How It ends. ( And your writing have improved a lot, u r doing amazing)

Hey! Cas is also the love of my life, along with so many other characters from other fandoms, some from Supernatural, too. Thank you for the bracket saying at the end. I guess my writing has improved a bit

Shared Feelings

“I swear to Father, he has cursed me with something as I wasn’t looking.” Michael says to himself, expecting no one else to listen, but his brother, Cas, heard what he said.

“I assure you, brother, (Y/N) has not cursed you with anything. Why would you think that?” Cas puts down the recommended book from you down.

“I am feeling love towards the human.”

“I do, too.”

Michael glares at his brother. He then says, “Are you confused on your feelings for the human?”

A simple nod is his answer.

The moment you walk into the lounge of your apartment, the angels are quiet.

Dumping your body on the couch, you lean your head back against the back rest, your eyes closed. 

The angels are now sitting on both sides of you.

Straightening your head and opening your eyes, you look side to side to the angels having some sort of loving look on their faces.

You turn the TV on to have the news playing before you grip the angels’ jaws in both hands and move their heads towards the TV.

Second pass to have Cas’ hand intertwined with yours.

Michael has noticed, discomfort going through his body.

You notice the feeling going through his body as his body is now basically over the armrest.

Thinking of before you were going to enter the lounge and remembering their conversation about you, you had thought that they wouldn’t like you back.

You grab Michael’s hand to pull him back against your side.

You shift to have your head leaning against his shoulder. “I like the both of you. You don’t need to fight over me or fight for my attention. Just do something and don’t be scared.”

Cas has a soft smile as for Michael, he has a big smile and his cheeks tinted pink. He nuzzles his cheek against your head.

Cas lets go of your hand to rest his head in your lap, yourself beginning to play with his hair. “He cursed you with his love.” Cas mumbles, yourself being confused.

A hit on his head comes along with his brother saying, “Shut up.”

Could you please write one based on the episode " french mistake" where Dean and Sam come to the real life and end up Meeting Jensen and jered's boyfriend( who is really young, like 20/21) and they get nervous because in supernatural world he is a evil angel that tried to kill they a lot of times, but end up loving him cuz the human him is lovely and caring and they even use the situation to get some cuddles and kisses? Thank you very much♥️

Yeah, I can write this ♥️

French Mistake

The brothers come crashing through the window, the crew watch them. They stand up and look back at the crew in confusion. 

“Alright, everybody, that’s a wrap.” Robert yells out before turning to the brothers. “Go get cleaned up, then go home to your boy.”

Sam and Dean both become more confused. 

Two people come along, guiding Sam and Dean to some chairs in front of mirrors.

A woman comes at Dean with a makeup pad, trying to rub it against his face, but fails as he moves away. “Woah, what are you doing?”

Two fingers swipe across his cheek, making him look at his brother with some makeup on his fingers.

Dean looks at his reflection, bringing his hand up to his opposite cheek. “Oh my God. I’m a painted whore.”

The two get cleaned before they walk outside to see Misha.

“Hey, Cas, do you know what’s going on?” Dean asks.

Misha questions back of what Dean means as he goes through some pieces of paper.

Dean snatches the papers out of the man’s hands to go through it. “It’s words of a script.” He takes a closer look. “Misha?” 

The brothers walk off to a car as someone had called out their ‘names’. “Misha? Jensen? What kinda of names are those?”

After being dropped off at their ‘home’, Sam opens the door to hear the TV going in the lounge.

Following the sound, they see (h/c) hair from the back rest of the couch.

Your Saint Bernard perks his head up to see who came in. Your head does the same.

A smile forms on your face.

Getting up from the couch, Sam and Dean take a step back, seeing that you’re the angel that tried to kill them several times.

“What?” They let you walk towards them to give them a peck on their lips.

“Uh, nothing.” Sam manages to get out.

You start to talk about the little adventures you and the dog had during the day as you cook them some food.

The brothers try to keep up with what you’re saying, but Sam is playing with Tony’s fur, for Dean, he’s just watching you move around with the smell of the food you’re cooking is hitting him in the face.

After minutes pass, the three of you are seated in the lounge, and Tony seated in between your legs, sniffing at your food. 

“Tony, you had your food.” You move your upper body forward to nudge your nose against his.

“Dude, I think I’m in love.” Dean says quietly to Sam.

“Yeah, with the food.”

“Nah.” Dean speaks out with his mouth full. He swallows before saying, “Well, yeah. But, he’s not the evil angel he is. I mean, we don’t even own a dog. And what was up with the whole set up thing back there? Plus, I’m a painted whore.”

“In general, you are a whore.”

Sam whines as he gets a punch to the shoulder.

“Jens, why’d you hit him?”

“He’s being a pain.”

You chuckle as you stand up, grabbing their plates and going to the kitchen to put them on the counter. You dish up bowls of pie and ice cream.

Coming back with the bowls, Dean immediately has a smile on his face, taking the bowl happily as Sam thanks you. 

“Hmmm.” Dean moans, mumbling away of how good the pie is. “Always loving the homemade pie as usual.”

“You made this?” Crumbs fall out of his mouth as he points the spoon to the food.

“Never let you watch me make it ‘cause I know that you’d try and steal a piece before Jared and I get any.”

Finishing up with the dessert and the dishes next to the plates from dinner, you’re seated in between the brothers to give them cuddles.

Sam has one of his hands buried in Tony’s fur as his other is intertwined with yours.

Minutes pass of watching what was on the TV and your head on Dean’s shoulder, you had fallen asleep.

“Totally not a evil angel.”

Super excited to be a part of the #SPNFanficPond

Hey, there! I'd love to join the SPN FanFic Pond. 😊 I have experience writing on A03 and being on Tumblr, but I'm new to bringing my FanFiction to Tumblr, so I'd like to be a Guppie for now. I'd also like to be classified as a Mutual who likes to help others whether it be collaborating on a story or simply reading a story before posting. 😊

Welcome to the pond !!!

-Mel

I'm doing a panel on how to write fanfiction 😆

So my town is having a comic con and entertainment expo, like a small version of Chicago's C2E2.

I signed up to do a panel titled "Beyond Canon: Mastering the Art of Fanfiction Writing." My reason behind doing this panel is to get people excited about writing, as I lead our local writing group.

In the panel, I want to touch on the following:

Introduction to Fanfiction: Define what fanfiction is and its significance in popular culture. Discuss its history and evolution.

Understanding Canon: Emphasize the importance of knowing the source material (canon) thoroughly before writing fanfiction. Discuss ways to research and interpret canon material.

Types of Fanfiction: Explore different genres and styles of fanfiction, such as alternate universe (AU), crossover, fluff, angst, and smut. Discuss the unique challenges and opportunities each genre presents.

Respecting Canon vs. Taking Creative Liberties: Discuss the balance between staying true to canon and taking creative liberties in fanfiction. Explore the ethics of altering or expanding upon established elements of the source material.

Feedback and Community Engagement: Discuss the role of feedback and community engagement in the fanfiction writing process. Explore platforms and communities where writers can share their work, receive feedback, and connect with fellow fans.

Legal and Ethical Considerations: Touch upon legal and ethical considerations surrounding fanfiction, such as copyright issues and respecting the rights of original creators.

The Impact of Fanfiction: Reflect on the broader cultural impact of fanfiction, including its role in fostering community, creativity, and literary analysis.

Q&A Session: Open the floor to questions from the audience, allowing attendees to seek clarification, share their own experiences, and engage in discussion.

Throughout the panel, I want to highlight some incredible fanfictions that have transcended their origins and made their mark in mainstream media as books, TV shows, or movies.

If you know of any fanfictions that have been turned into books, TV Shows, or movies please leave them below! If you have any thoughts or insights on what I should cover in specific areas, I'd appreciate your thoughts below! 😊

Destiel One-Shot: Boyfriend

Series: Supernatural

Characters/Pairings: Destiel, Dean, Castiel, Gabriel, Sam

A/N: I wrote this shit instead of going to church this morning. I guess I'm going to hell. At least I'll get to meet Luci.

Summary: Gabriel tells Castiel to call Dean his boyfriend and Castiel doesn’t know the real meaning. Keep reading if you wanna know what happens:


“I need to get back to dean.” Castiel said anxiously.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "What is he your boyfriend?”

Castiel cocked his head to the side. “What’s a boyfriend?”

Gabriel looked like he had just won a 500 dollar gift card to the It'sugar store. That was Gabriel's favorite heaven.

Castiel took a step back cautiously. Gabriel slung his arm around Castiel's tense shoulders, grinning ear to ear.

"It’s a term for someone you are especially close to." Gabriel explained. "Aren’t you and Dean close?"

"Yes we are close.” Castiel nodded. He had a more profound bond with dean, he’d told them as much. Castiel hoped he didn’t offend Sam, but the truth was the truth.

Gabriel nodded but still had that bright grin on his face. He must be happy to teach Castiel about new human terminology.


~


Castiel was quite frustrated. Dean was blaming himself for something stupid that wasn’t even his fault. Again.

Him and Sam where trying to cheer Dean up to no avail.

"Why do you even come when I call?” Dean asked sadly, nursing his 5th bottle of beer.

Castiel thought for a moment. Maybe he should use that term Gabriel had suggested, to be more human like Sam and Dean maybe that would cheer them up!

"Because your my boyfriend.” Castiel stated.

Dean choked on his drink and Sam’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets.

Castiel was confused. Why where they reacting like this?

Dean set down his beer and looked at Castiel, eyes wide.

"I’m right here guys.” Sam said looking exasperated.

"Is that not the proper term for our relationship?” Castiel asked, he was severely confused.

Sam turned to him an eyebrow raised, and Dean looked like someone had gut punched him.

“Cas, what exactly do you think the term means?” Dean asked carefully.

"That we are close.” Castiel attempted a casual shrug though he was still confused, why where humans so complicated?

Dean shook his head. "No it’s not what they told you it was.”

"Oh." Castiel frowned.

Gabriel was very ‘in the know' on human interactions, so he was confused that Gabriel had gotten it wrong, and that Castiel might have offended Dean.

Castiel looked down. "My apologies Dean.”

"It’s alright, Cas.” Dean shrugged, but Castiel noticed that his cheeks were slightly pink.

Was it hot in here? It was hard to tell since Castiel was in his vessel.

"What’s the correct meaning of the term?” Castiel asked curiously.

Dean stiffened and Sam hid his mouth behind his hand in what sounded like a cough.

Dean waved him off. "Uh doesn’t matter.”

"I want to know, so I don’t accidentally use the term wrong again and offend someone like with you.” Castiel pouted.

"You didn’t offend us, just caught us by surprise.” Sam said gently, a grin spreading across his face. What was it with long haired men and grinning?

"But what is the real meaning?” Castiel asked earnestly.

"Uh, I uh, don’t know how to explain it.” Dean scratched the back of his head.

"I’ll google the definition!” Sam volunteered happily. Dean glared at him.

Castiel was glad Sam was happy to help, but Dean seemed strangely defensive about this, like when someone got to close to his pie.

Sam pulled out his laptop, opening it, but Dean slammed it shut.

"It’s dead.” Dean stated.

Sam started to protest but Dean looked him in the eye and stated loudly. “Your. laptop. is. dead.” While staring Sam down.

“Okay…” Sam looked a little unnerved and smug at the same time. Humans.

"You see its uh, boyfriend, is the term to describe someone you have a romantic like relationship with.” Dean explained awkwardly.

"Oh.” Castiel felt heat rising to his cheeks. He was deeply embarrassed.

"Who told you the wrong definition anyways?” Sam asked.

"Gabriel, it is strange, he is usually right about these things.” Castiel frowned.

Dean muttered something about where Gabriel should stick his Angel blade.

"Yeah I’m pretty sure he was pulling a prank on you.” Dean chuckled.

Castiel scowled. He had thought he could finally trust Gabriel but no!

Castiel made a mental note to never trust Gabriel again.

"Don’t worry about it, Gabriel pranks everyone.” Sam almost sounded bitter. Had Gabriel done something to him? Maybe he put toothpaste in Sam's oreos.

Dean clapped Castiel on the shoulder. “You can call me your best friend how about that.”

"Okay.” Castiel muttered looking down, still embarrassed.

"Lets go get cheeseburgers. Hopefully that’ll cheer us both up.” Dean offered and Castiel brightened.

Cheeseburger were good, that Castiel knew without a doubt.

They left and for some reason Sam made no move to come with them. He must not be hungry.

Dangerous

“I don't want to look at you when I know I can't be with you.”

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 755

Warnings: None

A/N: My first attempt at uploading something. Hope you like it.

Last night, you had fallen asleep in Sam’s strong arms after kissing and making love with the hunter. You had been hunting partners for so long, but it had taken you months to even accept the fact that your attraction to Sam was more than just a crush. When you had finally accepted that, though... it was the best night of your life. But then... in the morning, he wasn’t there, he wasn’t in bed with you and that was odd because what had happened last night had been magical, and... well, you were in his bedroom. Slightly confused but yet not suspicious, you picked your clothes up from the floor and tugged them on. Yawning, you ran a hand through your hair and trudged to the bunker’s kitchen, where Sam and Dean were sleepily eating breakfast. You sat down next to Sam, turning your head towards him to say hi, but he got up and left abruptly, without a word, leaving you and Dean to stare at his plaid-covered back as he walked away. 

“What’s gotten into him?” Dean asked through a mouthful of pie, and you shrugged.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, and you really didn’t know what was going on. For the moment, you decided not to think about it much. Maybe there was an emergency of some kind that Sam needed to attend to? The next time you stumbled upon Sam was in the library. Despite being immersed in a big, old, leather-bound tome about something supernatural or other, he got up and, not even sparing you a glance, exited the library, leaving you behind with a frown on your features and unanswered questions running through your mind. Working while your mind was occupied with thoughts of last night and Sam’s enigmatic behaviour was impossible, so you decided to go to the kitchen and grab a bite.

To your surprise, Sam was there too. At your sides, your hands were clenching and unclenching into fists from all the suppressed questions. All the unanswered ‘why’s that wouldn’t let you concentrate on anything. The tall hunter was about to sidestep you again and walk out of the room, but you grabbed hold of his forearm, frowning up at him. In spite of your proximity, he kept his eyes firmly fixed on the wall in front of him, not sparing you a glance.

“Sam, why are you avoiding me? Did I... did I mess up somehow? I thought that... after last night, things would change for the better, not for the worse. Of course, we could forget that anything ever happened, and we could move on. I just can’t stand this inexplicable thing,” you muttered. You knew you were rambling, but you just couldn’t stop yourself from blurting out anything that found its way out of your thoughts and into spoken words.

“No, no, that’s not it!” Sam sounded bewildered, as if the idea that you could ever blame yourself for how he had been acting was preposterous. His little outburst made him look down at you, and his hazel gaze was fierce, telling you that nothing was your fault, and that this was the way things should be.

“Then... what’s wrong? If it’s not me, it can’t be you. You haven’t done anything,” you asked, relaxing your grip on his forearm and feeling relieved when he didn’t seize the opportunity to walk away. 

“It’s just... I don’t want to look at you when I know I can’t be with you,” he muttered apologetically. “What do you mean you can’t be with me?” you asked. It was your turn to be bewildered and confused, and you knew it was written in your features. He sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“It’s dangerous to be with me. Every relationship I’ve ever had has turned badly, and I don’t want you to just be another body added in the pile. I... I don’t want to lose you in the worst way imaginable.” You shook your head, shocked that he could think that.

“I’m a hunter. I can take care of myself,” you said with a small smirk, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss on his lips. At first, he was hesitant, unresponsive, but then he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him, and his lips were warm and moving against yours in a kiss that made you dizzy with happiness. So what if this was dangerous? It was definitely worth it. And danger really was the best part.

He Loves Me Not

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 910

Summary: Dean is giving you the cold shoulder... why? 

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Hope you like it!

Dean grunted as you tightly wrapped a bandage around his arm. He fixed you with a death glare and you tried not to flinch. If looks could kill, the piercing green stare that was on you would have made your heart stop beating in the blink of an eye. You had to take that grunt as a ‘thanks’ because just then the hunter got up from the arm of the couch and stalked off to his room, leaving you there to stare at his retreating back. Each step that led him further away from you felt like a stab in your heart, because you felt things about him. Things that you weren’t necessarily proud of, but things that were there nonetheless, and they made your skin tingle at the barest brush of skin on skin. You heard Sam clear his throat from behind you and you shook your head to clear your brain, tearing your eyes away from the long-closed door of Dean’s room. You turned to face the younger Winchester, who had his eyebrows raised in a silent inquiry.

“What is it?” you asked him, feeling your cheeks redden under his gaze, and you fought to keep control of your voice. Sam tilted his head in the direction of Dean’s bedroom. “You and Dean. I know that the way he’s been acting is bothering you, it’s clear as crystal. I know how you feel about him,” he said. “You... you know? Is it that obvious?” you asked, feeling your cheeks heat up. You knew there was no reason in denying your feelings about Dean; not to Sam and definitely not to yourself. Sam nodded. “Everybody but Dean knows,” he said.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself down. For God’s sake, you were a hunter; you couldn’t have a panic attack if Sam and Cas knew about your love life -or lack thereof. “Why is he acting this way though?” you blurted out just as Sam was about to turn around and start his research on anything that would be any help with finishing the current case. “Why is he treating me like I’m trash? I’m only here to help you the way you two helped me,” you sighed.

“I think he’s just jealous. You show up out of nowhere, you’re a top-notch hunter, you know how to do stuff. Don’t worry; he’ll adjust. Plus... I’m sure he likes you too. He just doesn’t know what to do about it.” “Not acting like a bastard would be good to begin with,” you muttered under your breath, and Sam gave you an apologetic smile. “You’ll get to that,” he said, and left to start the research that would bring you one step closer to finding out more about the monsters hot on your tail but would not make you understand Dean’s reasons for acting like he hated your guts.

You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed that night had fallen, and Sam had long exited the room to go to sleep. The ever-vigilant hunter part of you that was half-asleep barely registered a bedroom door open and close as Dean walked into the living room. His eyes met yours and it was as if you had been doused with ice water. You jolted to your feet immediately and tried hard not to look flustered. “Dean,” you acknowledged him with a nod, quickly looking away and avoiding meeting his eyes. “Y/n,” he said, and his deep voice was surprisingly gentle. It had always been gruff when directed towards you, dismissive but not less attractive. Now that his voice was soft and almost tender, it practically sent shivers down your spine.

“What is it?” you asked him, and you were surprised when you felt fingers gently stroke your chin and life your head up so that your gaze met Dean’s green eyes. “I heard what you and Sam were talking about a couple of hours ago,” he stated, and you felt another blush rush to your cheeks. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel that way. That was never my intention. I was just... protecting myself in the completely wrong way. What Sammy said was true. I do like you,” he confessed, biting his plump lower lip and drawing your gaze straight down to the path his teeth and tongue made. It was obvious that he’d noticed you looking as he leaned down to reach your height and pressed his lips on yours.

God, those lips combined with those skills should be illegal, you thought, and that was as far as that train of thought went, because he had pushed you back down on the couch and he was kissing you so roughly and with so much abandon that it made your heart beat so fast it felt like it would break out of your ribcage. The heated kisses gradually slowed down to gentler, loving ones that allowed you both to explore each other. Eventually, he pulled away, out of breath, and his gaze met yours for one more time, only this time you didn’t flinch away. His pupils were blown wide with lust, almost completely covering the bright green of his irises, and you were mesmerised. “So you go from insulting me to kissing me senseless?” you teasingly managed to say in-between gasping breaths. Dean just winked at you. “Yep,” he said with a dazzling grin. “But I sure plan on just doing the latter from now on.”

Introduction

Hello! I’m Rosa (aka crazymadravenclaw) and, well, I write. I’ve been writing since forever, but I’ve only now decided to upload my stuff. So... I mostly write fics based on the Supernatural, Sherlock, Doctor Who, Harry Potter and Marvel fandoms, but very little of what I write actually makes the cut and gets on here. I’d love to get to read your opinion on my works, and thanks in advance to anyone who likes/reblogs them. It quite literally gives me life.

Please, kill me.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 864

Warnings: Feels, spoilers for season ten, cursing

Summary: Dean asks something of Y/N, something she’s not sure she can do...

A/N: Hope you like it!

“Y/n,” Dean called out to you, voice surprisingly steady, as if he was struggling to keep it that way.

“I have something to tell you,” he said when you had made your way to him, sitting down on a chair next to him.

“Go on,” you said with a small smile, your gentle voice softly urging him on. You had realised the severity of the situation because of the look in his green eyes. You had never seen him like this, and it took you a bit by surprise. He was frowning, and his whole face had a clouded expression of thoughtfulness, but his eyes were practically talking to you. They were full of despair, and full of something else, too; something you couldn’t quite place, but it was there and the hurt it radiated was almost palpable.

You reached out and gently squeezed one of his hands, trying to reassure him.

Dean took a deep breath, closing his eyes as if composing himself. For a second, you were cut off from the torrent of emotions pouring out of his eyes, and this time when he opened them again, you were prepared.

“I...” He cleared his throat before continuing. “I want to tell you something. It’s... something very important.” He took one last deep breath before finally saying what he had wanted to tell you from the start.

“If... if anything happens to me; if I ever become the same murderous son of a bitch I was when I had the Mark... I... want you to do something for me,” he said, fixing you with a steady gaze. “In the line of work we’re in, you know that it’s entirely possible for the same thing to happen to me again. I don’t want that. I don’t want you and Sam and Cas to see me go through all that again. It’s not fair for you; it’s not fair for me; and most of all it’s not fair for the people I would mercilessly kill and their families.” Here, he paused to regain his bearings, and he tiredly rubbed his eyes with his free hand, the one you weren’t holding.

You were almost unable to breathe. You had the slightest idea of what he wanted you to do for him, and you were hoping he’d say something else, something less serious.

“I want you to kill me,” he stated, and that six-word sentence seemed to be your whole world in that moment. Like a mantra, it played again and again in your head. You were clutching Dean’s hand so tightly that you felt the hunter tense.

“I... I can’t... I could never do what you’re asking of me... Ask Sam...” you whispered, and he shook his head.

“You’re the only one I trust to do this. I know Sam. He’d never kill me, not if I begged him. You... you have to. For your own good. Please.” Dean was desperate now. He had been expecting a negative reaction, but he was determined to get his way.

When you expressed your disagreement again, he sighed, but didn’t give up.

“Please,” he repeated. “It has to happen that way. Not only for you and Sam and Cas, but for myself too. I won’t ever be a normal person again; I can’t take it anymore. So... if it ever comes to that... Kill me,” he said.

This time, you nodded. “Okay.” Your voice was small, hesitant, but it was all Dean had at the moment. And it was enough

“Thank you,” he said, and you nodded.

“Yeah... you’re welcome,” you whispered, smiling softly. You didn’t really want to smile, but it was either that or bursting into tears, so you decided that the first option was better.

“This means so friggin’ much to me, thanks,” he said, and you could only nod in reply.

You bit hard on your lower lip, and you felt a tear escape your eyes. Dean leaned forward and wiped it away with his thumb.

“Hey... hey, I’m sorry... but I had to say it. I needed to make sure that the world would be safe from me if anything happened again,” he said, and you leaned into his touch.

“Yes... I know. But that won’t stop me from being upset over it,” you murmured.

“But you will do it. If it’s the only option left, you will,” he said, almost as if trying to reassure himself.

“Yes,” you whispered, feeling another tear trickle down your cheek.

Instead of replying, Dean leaned forward to press his lips against yours. At first, it wasn’t much of a kiss; it was more of two pairs of lips touching each other. But then he opened his mouth, and you opened yours, and it was a heated tangle of tongues and limbs as you tried to come impossibly close to one another. When you pulled away, you were both breathing heavily and you had somehow straddled him in the passionate haze of the kiss.

“I said I will do it, but Dean, I don’t want to. I never want to get the chance to.”

Again, he didn’t reply. He just pulled you into another whirlwind of a kiss.

Weapons down

Pairing: Sam x reader or Dean x reader

Word Count: Sam: 972 Dean: 1092

Warnings: Feels and cursing for the Sam one.

A/N: This story has five lines of common beginning, and then it branches off depending on whether you prefer Sam or Dean. Just thought I’d try it out. Enjoy!

 “Weapons down, or I’m gonna shoot you to oblivion!” you yelled at the two men whose silhouettes were outlined in the doorway of the warehouse.

They put their weapons down only because of sheer surprise, and while they looked around to pinpoint the source of the voice that startled them, you had the time to study them.

 Sam

You made your way to them, frowning. “Who are you?” you asked, making sure that your gun was trained on the taller one of the two.

“We’re FBI agents and-” started the shorter and apparently older one, but he was cut off by the other.

“We’re not FBI agents,” he stated and, perplexed, you frowned.

“I’m confused. Are you with the FBI or not?” you asked.

“We aren’t,” said the taller one at the same time the shorter one said “We are.”

“Wow, that’s a really enlightening thing to say,” you commented. “Care to explain?”

“We aren’t with the FBI,” said the taller one and, this time, the other agreed with a nod.

“Then who are you? And what are you doing here?” you asked.

“I’m Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean, and we’re here because we’ve been informed that some very dangerous people live in this warehouse. We’re here to prevent them from causing any harm,” he explained, and immediately you felt like you were a five-year-old being patronised by an annoying adult.

“The name’s Y/n. And what do you think I’ve been doing here? A party? I’ve been dealing with the vampires,” you said, and you smiled proudly at them.

“Are you sure you’ve dealt with them properly?” asked Dean.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course. I’ve beheaded them and then buried them so that nobody will ever come across the bodies. I’ve been here since yesterday, and I need some rest,” you said, walking past them and into the sunlight.

“You don’t have a car,” Sam called out from behind you. “There was no car outside the warehouse when we got here. So how did you make it here?” he asked.

“I walked. I crashed my car a week or so ago and I haven’t had the time to replace it. It’s waiting for me in a yard somewhere in Colorado,” you explained with a shrug. To tell the truth, your opinion on that matter was anything but nonchalant, as your car had been the only place you had ever called home, but being pessimistic just wouldn’t do. Instead, you had decided to use the public transport to make your way to Wyoming to deal with the vampire nest, because hunting would always be your priority.

“That’s unfortunate. Well, you can come with us. We’re heading to the nearest town,” Sam offered, completely missing his brother’s glare.

“Really? Thank you. I’ve got a motel room there, so I can rest before heading to Colorado to retrieve my car and all my hunting stuff,” you said with a grin, only then realising that this was the first mention of anything hunting-related between you and the Winchesters. You had just both automatically assumed that the other was a hunter.

That was certainly not the last time though. Over the years, you started hunting together. At first it was just a call here and there or a chance meeting when you accidentally took on the same cases, but as the months went by you grew closer. You even started living in the bunker with them when you weren’t joining them on cases.

Hunting with them had been the best time you had ever had in your whole life.

But all good things must end, and your time with the Winchesters was no different.

It was on a sunny but chilly day in mid-March that was entirely inconspicuous and normal that this good thing in your life ended.

“We’re back!” you heard Sam and Dean announce when they entered the bunker. They both seemed rather excited for the hunt to be over, and it pained your heart to see the smile wiped off their faces when they saw you.

You were standing near the entrance, clutching a suitcase in one hand and your car keys in the other. There was a vacant, sad, look in your eyes as you nodded at them.

“Hey,” you muttered sadly.

“What’s wrong?” Dean was the one to ask but Sam was the one to rush up to you and pull you into a hug. You let the suitcase drop and hugged him back tightly, fighting to keep back tears.

“I’m leaving,” you announced in a small voice.

“Leaving... what?” Sam asked.

“Leaving the bunker. Leaving the hunter life. I can’t do this anymore. I’m physically and mentally exhausted. I just want to see the world,” you muttered, casting your gaze down on the ground.

“No. You can’t leave,” Sam said, voice almost shrill in a note of panic.

“It’s... it’s not temporary. It’s just a break. For a couple of years, I’ve decided I want to travel and see everything the planet has to offer before returning,” you said, leaving the probably out of the conversation. You weren’t sure you ever would return. Part of you hoped so, while another just wanted to leave and never come back.

Sam, probably realising that no matter what he said he could never stop you from leaving, only hugged you tighter.

“Do you promise you’ll come back?” he asked.

“I do,” you said, and now that you had given your word you probably would.

“I love you,” Sam whispered in a broken voice. “Don’t leave,” he murmured hopelessly.

Unable to listen to him anymore, you pulled away slightly from his hug and pulled him into a kiss. You touched your lips to his hesitantly at first but with increasingly more passion until you both had to pull away for need of air.

“I love you too. But I have to go. I’ll be back,” without further ado, you nodded at Dean, reached down to grab your suitcase and left, paying no heed to the tears rolling down your cheeks.

You turned to look at the bunker one last time.

“Goodbye, Sam Winchester. And may we meet again.”

 Dean

One was tall, with long hair, but it was the other who caught your attention. Shorter than the other man but still tall, something about his posture and the way he carried himself drew you in. So when you stepped out into the meagre light the rays of the sun peeking in through the door offered, you addressed him.

“Who are you and what do you want here?” you asked him, and he frowned as his eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness of the room.

“I’m Agent Bickler and this is my partner Agent Sullivan. We’re with the FBI,” he said, making eye contact with you. Never tearing his gaze away from yours, he took a badge out of his pocket and let it drop to the ground. He kicked it towards you and you kneeled to pick it up, eyes and gun firmly fixed on the man who had told you was an FBI agent.

“I don’t think so. These badges aren’t real, and even if they were, what would an FBI agent be doing out here, in a warehouse in the middle of nowhere?” you asked, raising a challenging eyebrow at the light-brown-haired man.

He rolled his eyes and was about to reply when the other man talked, drawing your attention.

“You’re right. We’re not FBI agents. We’re here because some very dangerous people are in this warehouse and we want to make sure nobody innocent will get hurt. So could you please leave? It’d be much better for all of us if you didn’t get killed in the process,” he said, and for a second you contemplated pretending not to understand, pretending to be a civilian.

You decided against that though, as it would only offer confusion and maybe these two hunters -they were obviously hunters, you thought- would be so desperate as to use force to extract you from the warehouse that had been a vampire nest before you had dealt with it.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you two are hunters. That is quite obvious from you pretending to be FBI. And you must be here for the vampires,” you said, and saw realisation dawn in both their faces as they figured out the fact that you were a hunter too.

“Well... I’ve taken care of that problem; don’t worry. All the vampires are dead and buried,” you told them with a bright smile, finally lowering and holstering your gun.

“You’re a hunter?” asked the one you had been talking to in the beginning. His question was more of a statement, you realised as your gazes met again, though he obviously doubted your abilities.

“Yes, I am. I’ve been a hunter for the biggest part of my life, so there’s no need for you to check to see if the vampires are truly dead and gone. But if you want to waste precious minutes of your time, go ahead and be my guest,” you said.

“That won’t be necessary. We believe you,” said the taller one.

“I’m Sam and this is my brother Dean,” he introduced.

“Wait... Sam and Dean Winchester?” you asked with a frown. “I’m Y/n L/n. I’m, as I said, a hunter. My grandfather taught me everything I know about hunting, and he was the strictest of teachers. He never said the same thing more than once. The only thing he had ever repeated was this ‘Don’t trust the Winchesters.’ Why should I trust you?” you crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at the two men standing in front of you.

“Because we’re hunters. And hunters stick together. We’re each other’s best chance of staying alive,” Dean said, and you had to admit he had a point. Hunting on your own was an extremely lonely thing to do, and you craved some real interaction despite your better judgment.

“Let’s go then. I have a room at the motel just outside town,” you informed them, walking past them and into the glare of the sun outside the warehouse.

“Our room is there too,” Sam told you as they followed you.

“Great. See you there,” you said, climbing into your car and setting off towards the motel.

Little did you know then, that encounter with the Winchester brothers meant the end of your lonely hunting years and the beginning of a new phase in your life, which you loved more than anything else that had ever happened to you. Soon, you became very familiar with the brothers, but you had always felt more comfortable around Dean. You loved them both, but Sam was just a friend, while Dean... well it was different with Dean. It had always been different with Dean, but it took you some time to understand just how different things were.

“Where’s the pie, Y/n?” you heard Dean call out as soon as you entered the bunker’s kitchen.

“Right here, Dean. How could I ever forget the pie?” you asked, handing him his pie. He looked pointedly at Sam after what you said and accepted the pie.

“Thank you,” he said with a grin before grabbing a fork from a drawer and starting to eat.

“You’re welcome,” you said with a chuckle. “I don’t get why you like pie that much though,” you commented, and Dean sent a murderous glare your way. “Don’t listen to her, you’re precious to me,” he muttered to his pie while glaring at you.

Both you and Sam laughed and shared an exasperated look.

“At least Y/n never forgets the pie,” Dean said, again looking at his brother.  “And for that I thank her very much,” he said, turning to face you. Already, he was done with the pie, and he set the foil plate and the fork down on the table, walking up to you. He leaned down and in one swift, sudden, moment, had his lips pressed against yours; soft and warm as he pulled you into a roller coaster of a kiss that made your heart beat fast and heat to rise to your cheeks. Dean tasted of pie and in that moment you understood why he liked it so much.

You broke apart after Sam cleared his throat. Dean glared at him. “What?” he asked.

“Get a room,” Sam said.

“We have one, but you’re in it,” Dean said moodily and Sam, obviously not in the mood for a fight, sighed and walked out of the room.

“What was that for?” you asked once Sam was gone.

“It was for the pie. And I’ve wanted to do it for a long, long time.”

Ready Aim Fire

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Word Count: 1020

Summary: Dean shows Y/n how to shoot a gun.

A/N: Happy birthday to Dean Winchester! May he have all the pies he wants.

gif not mine, credit to whoever owns it.

“You say you want to be a hunter, princess, but do you even know how to shoot a gun?” Dean asked, making eye contact with you. You, stubborn as ever, rolled your eyes and crossed your arms on your chest. “No, I don’t. But nobody was born knowing how. Somebody had to teach them. Somebody even had to teach you. So, why can’t you show me how to shoot a gun? I might surprise you,” you said, voice challenging.

He held your gaze for a long minute, apparently trying to decide whether to try to teach you how to shoot or not. In the end, you won, and he nodded.

“Very well. I’ll show you,” he said begrudgingly, pushing himself off the doorframe, which he had been leaning against.

“The shooting range is this way, follow me,” he muttered, walking out of the kitchen and heading to the shooting range.

“Here we are,” he announced, pushing the door open. He turned the lights on and they flickered into life, illuminating the distant targets on paper and the grey concrete walls.

“Our goal for today is to make sure your stance is proper and that you can hit the target. Proper stance will soon be forgotten in an actual fight, but we want you to improve on your aim right now,” he explained irritably, trying not to lose his patience.

“And I ought to warn you now, before it’s too late; being a hunter isn’t a field trip. It’s dangerous. It could cost you your life, the life of the people you care about. The reward is only emotional, and the recognition is nonexistent. You have the chance to turn away now. You have the chance to live a normal life, free of worry about ghosts and demons and angels. If you walk away right now, this whole thing will be just a distant memory,” here, Dean turned to face you. His expression was grave and serious. “If you walk away right now, you can have a family and friends.”

You looked up at him defiantly. “I’ve been living a normal life all my life, and I’m bored out of my wits. That’s not what I want for myself. Now, teach me how to shoot a damn gun,” you said and, with a sigh, Dean took his gun out of its holster.

“Watch closely,” he instructed, “You’ll have to copy my movements when it’s your turn, so pay attention. Your feet have to be shoulder width apart and slightly bent, and your arms have to be fully extended,” he said, reciting the information from memory. He himself adopted the stance and squared his shoulders. He cocked the gun, pressed the trigger and a bullet flew straight through the head of one of the silhouettes on the targets.

Dean then turned to look at you, carefully handing you the gun.

You nervously walked up to where he had been standing and tried your best to replicate his picture-perfect stance. You took aim as best as you could and squeezed the trigger. The bullet barely managed to hit the very edge of the paper target. To your surprise, Dean had a look on his face that said ‘not bad’.

You turned back towards the target to examine your shot, which really wasn’t all that bad. “Quite good,” Dean’s voice said from directly behind you, his breath tickling the back of your neck, and you gave a tiny squeak in surprise. You hadn’t realised he had walked up to be standing where he was now. You heard him give a low chuckle at your reaction, and that small sound sent shivers down your spine. Admittedly, Dean Winchester was a very attractive man, and standing as you were at that moment, with his toned chest almost pressing against your back, awoke a fire deep in your belly.

“You still need to work on your stance a little bit,” he said, his hands ghosting touches on your arms and lower back and waist as he gently guided you into the proper position. When he was satisfied, he instructed you to extend your arms in front of you, and you did as asked. From behind you, he mirrored your movements and extended his arms as well, to correct your grip on the gun.

“Now, shoot,” he muttered in his deep voice, and you aimed carefully before pressing the trigger. This time, you managed to hit the outer rim of the target’s body, and you grinned in success, turning to face Dean. Having forgotten about your proximity, you uttered a small ‘oh’ when you found yourself chest-to-chest with the hunter. He grinned down at you and carefully took the gun from your grip, putting the safety back on and tucking it back into its holster.

“You could be a good hunter,” he commented casually, before leaning down closer to you to cover some of the distance between you. “Providing you’d stick to hunting with us, I can make you into one of the best hunters ever,” he said, but you weren’t paying attention to his words; only his lips. Your eyes were locked on them and you felt as if you were in a trance. Apparently, he’d noticed, because he brought his hand up to your chin, softly nudging it up so that your gaze met his.

Dean leaned down, you stretched up, and your lips met in a wonderful, mesmerising kiss that set your nerve edges on fire. He deepened the kiss by tilting his head and opening his mouth just wide enough so that his tongue could lick your lips and enter your own mouth. At that, you gave a small moan and snaked your arms around his neck for stability. The kiss went on like that for quite some time until you both pulled apart, panting, but very happy.

“So, what do you say? D’you really wanna become a hunter?” Dean murmured in a voice that was huskier than normal. You nodded.

“Oh hell yes,” you whispered in reply, and leaned up to kiss him again; the second time just as magical as the first.

Possessed

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader

Word Count: 940

Summary: Sam is possessed by a demon, and you try your best to help him.

Warnings: Some curse words.

A/N: I hope you like it!~

You glared at Sam -no, not Sam, the demon, you had to remind yourself- who had been tricked into walking into a demon trap. The tall hunter’s shirt was soaked through with blood where his anti-possession tattoo had been mutilated with a knife, and a smirk of superiority so unlike Sam’s usual warm smile was plastered on his face.  

“What do you have to say for yourself, sweetheart? Because it’s getting really boring here, don’t you think?” said the demon trough Sam’s voice. Wrapping your mind around the fact that Sam’s usually gentle and friendly voice could hold so much scorn had taken some time, but now, after spending about an hour with the demon inhabiting your friend’s body, you could listen to him talk without flinching and being overcome by a murderous urge.

“I want my best friend back, you bastard,” you growled, moving closer to the mark on the floor and pointing Ruby’s demon-killing knife, which the Winchesters had lent to you before the mission, at the demon.

The demon laughed. It was more of a manic, wicked, cackle than a laugh, and then it looked at you through Sam’s hazel eyes with disdain.

“Oh, you’d never lay a finger on your handsome friend’s body over here,” said the demon, dropping you a wink. “Plus, if you want me gone so much, you can go on and exorcise me. You know the words, sweetheart, don’t you?” the demon added, assuming a deep, husky, provocative tone of voice as he spoke.

Never losing eye contact with you, the demon made Sam’s hands run all over his broad chest, unbuttoning a few buttons of his red plaid shirt as it did so, putting Sam’s chest on display.

Trying to suppress the feeling of giddiness that came over you when you saw the hunter’s bare chest, you mustered all your hatred towards the demon in one heated glare, which made you narrow your eyes and grit your teeth as you tried not to stare at Sam’s chest.

“Oh, I can exorcise you. But I need information first. About Crowley’s whereabouts. Tell me. Where is he?” you asked, gathering all of your self-control and willpower to make your voice sound nonchalant as you spoke. Your gaze, while still full of hatred, held authority, and your posture -seemingly relaxed, but actually tense and ready to attack should the need arise- exuded superiority. To accentuate the fact that you weren’t bluffing -which you actually were, because you’d never touch a blade to Sam’s skin- you ran a casual finger along the serrated blade of the demon-killing knife, smirking.

The demon caught the bluff though, and gave another one of its expected hysterical cackles. “You’re not gonna hurt this body. I can see it in the way you’re trying too much not to stare at his chest; in the way you’re stalling for time and trying to trick me. But honey, I’m a demon. I can’t be lied to. The thing is, you’re so painfully in love with the man I’m possessing that it’s so obvious it hurts. So obvious to everybody but you two. So no, you’re not hurting Sammy over here, so I’m-” You were so angry you saw red. You raised your voice over the demon’s, cutting it off mid-sentence, and spewed out an exorcism, not caring that in doing so you were completely neglecting your actual goal.

With a howl of pain, the demon left Sam’s body and you hurried up to him as he collapsed to the ground, kneeling next to him and helping him sit up.

“Sam... are you okay?” you asked him, and he stifled a groan, but nodded.

“I’m fine...” he managed to say. “But... we were supposed to gather information about Crowley,” he said. On impulse, you gripped his face between your hands and looked him square in the eye. You could lose yourself in his hazel, ever-changing, eyes. Depending on the lighting, they could seem green, or blue, or brown, and you could spend hours thinking about them, but right now you had to focus.

“I don’t care about that, Sam. You are so much more important to me than any piece of information that demon could have given us,” you said.

He frowned and stayed silent for a bit. Neither of you moved an inch, and you could feel his breath hot against your face.

“Is what the demon said true?” he said, finally breaking the silence. “Do you... Are you in love with me?” he asked cautiously.

You were taken aback by his question. You had expected something along the lines of ‘let’s go find Dean’ or ‘it’s okay that you didn’t get information from the demon about Crowley, but we have to figure out what to do next’, so you were surprised. So surprised that you blurted out your response without thinking.

“Yes,” you said, and his eyes widened imperceptibly in surprise.

His face broke out into a grin that held so much happiness it made you smile as well. “That’s excellent. Because... because so do I,” he said, his voice trailing off in a whisper as he leaned in closer to you.

Your lips met hesitantly at first but then, as you both were drawn closer to each other like moths towards the light, it was magic. He was a great kisser, and he elicited small sounds from you as he nipped and sucked on your lower lip. Your lips tingled where they met his, and you had never felt better.

And, as you pulled away, you smiled, because you had not only gotten a friend back, but a lover too.

Give Me A Kiss

Pairing: Castiel x reader

Word Count: 777

Summary: Cas asks for a kiss. Just fluff without a basic plot, I guess~

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: Enjoy!

“Kiss me,” a deep, throaty voice said suddenly, drawing you out of your thoughts.

Confused, you turned to face the source of the voice. Castiel was sitting on the couch next to you, his amazingly deep blue eyes staring at you, intimidating you in a weird kind of way that stirred good feelings deep in your stomach.

“Ex-excuse me?” you stammered, furrowing your brows in confusion.

“Kiss me,” he repeated in that same tone of voice as before; deep enough to send shivers running down your spine.

And you didn’t know if it was the way he said it, the way he was looking at you or something else entirely that actually made you do it.

You leaned closer and pressed your lips to his chapped-but-soft ones, and he pressed back.

And it wasn’t just an innocent peck; but a deep kiss that took you to Heaven and brought you back again. Cas’s touch was curious, experimental, but there was something in the way he kissed you -something imperceptible but undeniably there- that made you think there was more to this than just the curiosity of an angel.

Eventually, you pulled away, panting, and he rested his forehead against yours, staring deep into your soul with his piercing blue eyes.

“That was good,” he said matter-of-factly, and that reminded you of how sudden the kiss had been to begin with.

“Cas,” you started, fully intending to continue your sentence but unable to find the suitable words. Or, in fact, any words at all. You couldn’t think of anything other than the kiss and why he had kissed you.

Cas probably noticed the shift in your demeanour towards confusion, and he frowned slightly, but his lips spread out into a smile.

And he leaned closer to you, kissing you again, drawing you into a kiss reminiscent of the one before, only more passionate, more needy, that left you panting and moaning. His movements were hesitant as he placed his hands at your waist to pull you closer towards him. He was even more hesitant with the kiss, trying to find the correct angle and the best way to use his lips and tongue to respond to your more than eager kiss.

You pulled away before you could get too immersed into the kiss and forget about the question you wanted to ask him.

“Why?” you managed to utter, struggling to catch your breath and compose yourself.

“Why what? Why did I kiss you?” he asked, his voice surprisingly and impossibly calm, coming sharp in contrast with your breathy gasps. You could only nod in reply to his question.

“Well...” Cas started to speak, and he still remained as unruffled as ever. “I was curious. I just wanted to try it,” he said with a shrug.

You hadn’t expected his answer to be this, and it made a lump rise to your throat and an uncomfortable feeling to settle in the pit of your stomach. You pulled slightly away, feeling a tad bit used but willing to overlook it, and the displeasure must have shown in your eyes because Cas’s calm façade broke and a frown clouded his expression.

“Did I do something wrong? Was there a problem with what I did?” he asked, uncertain and naïve and very much insecure.

“No, Cas, there isn’t a problem. Really. I understand,” you muttered, even though a part of you had hoped for -wanted, needed- more. More than just two kisses that had come to exist only because, apparently, your angel friend was bored and curious.

“There is a problem,” he insisted, and you sighed in annoyance.

“Okay, Cas, yes, there is. You can’t just kiss me like that and expect to get out of it with a simple ‘I was curious’. That was more than just curiosity,” you said, and his eyes widened.

“Uh... Y/N... it’s... what if I told you it’s not just curiosity?” he asked hypothetically, uncertain of himself.

The churning feeling in your stomach calmed, and there was a pleasant fluttering of hope and... something more.

“What was it then?” you asked, and he swallowed hard before replying.

“It was like. I like you, and I wanted to kiss you,” he admitted shyly, cutely, hesitantly, and he appeared surprised when a smile appeared on your face.

“Don’t worry, Cas... I like you too,” you muttered, and leaned in closer to him, kissing him with everything you had. Soon, he was on his back on the couch and you were on top of him, kissing and sucking his lips.

“I’m glad you asked,” you muttered in-between kisses, and he groaned slightly before replying.

“I’m really glad I did.”  

Together At Last

Pairing: Sam x reader

Word Count: 923

Summary: Sam and the reader were best friends in high school. What happens when, years later, they stumble across each other on a hunt?

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: I hope you like it!~

You’d known Sam for a long time. You’d met him at school during your last year there, and he quickly became your best friend. All too soon for you, he and his family had left the small town you and your mother were living in during that time period.

You made sure to keep in touch with him. His phone number changed constantly, as did yours, but you’d always stayed in contact.

It was really strange when, recently, he didn’t respond to your calls, e-mails or texts. Two years now, you hadn’t gotten a single word from Sam Winchester, a signal that he was alive and still thinking of you.

‘Maybe,’ you thought as you packed your hunting things in a backpack and slung it over your shoulder, ‘Maybe he’s not thinking of me. Or maybe he’s not alive,’ you sighed at your depressing train of thought and cursed yourself for thinking so much about him even now, two years after you’d had your last contact with Sam and so many years after you’d last seen him.

Cursing yourself under your breath, you shook your head to clear it and headed towards your destination: an abandoned house where ghost sightings had been reported. Armed with rock salt, a pack of matches and a lot of other weapons that would be useless against a ghost but made you feel safer; you made your way up to the house.

You had just closed the door behind you and switched your torch on when you heard a gun being cocked and the bright beam from another person’s torch was in your eyes.

But then the beam was lowered and, in the meagre light it and your own flashlight created, you could barely make out the characteristics of a tall, broad-shouldered man that reminded you too much of...

“Sam?” you choked out in surprise, wondering what the hell he could be doing here.

He didn’t speak. He just flung some water at you from a small bottle held in his hand, and he frowned when the results were negative.

“I’m not a fucking demon,” you hissed at him and drew a silver knife from your belt, slicing a cut across your palm. “And I’m not a shapeshifter either.”

“You can’t be Y/N,” he stated with certainty.

“I can’t? Why’s that, Sam?” you asked, and his frown deepened. “Because Y/N isn’t a hunter. I would’ve known.”

“I am a hunter. And of course you wouldn’t have known -I hadn’t realised you’re a hunter either,” you said in your defence.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this? We’ve talked so many times,” he said, and you rolled your eyes. “I didn’t know you’re a hunter as well, so I couldn’t exactly call you one day and tell you that I’ve been hunting monsters ever since I could walk. Most people don’t even know that monsters exist,” you replied, locking eyes with his.

Even in the too little white light that the torches’ beams cast, his eyes were the same hazel you remembered, his smile -though small right now- was instantly recognisable as Sam.

“You’re so tall now,” you muttered suddenly, and he chuckled. “You’re still beautiful,” he said, and you could have sworn that a small blush coloured his cheeks as he said that, but the lighting was so bad that you weren’t sure.

Unexpectedly, you ran up to him and threw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you,” you said, a grin on your face that could rival the sun in brightness.

“I’ve missed you too. So much,” he muttered.

“Why did you stop replying to my messages and calls?” you asked him, pulling far enough away so you could look at him, but not so far that you would have to take your arms off from around him.

“I wanted to keep you safe. Away from the life of a hunter. I thought that the best way to do that would be to sever all contact with you. It hurt, because you were my best friend, and I...” here, Sam trailed off, and you waited for him to pick up the threads of his sentence, but he never did.

“I wasn’t your best friend, Sam. I still am, if you want to, if you need me. I sure as hell need you,” you muttered, and were elated to see a smile take over the frown that had clouded his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said eventually, “But I...” he hesitated again before taking a deep breath, “I’ve always liked you. More than just friends. Perhaps more than like. It’s as if... I’ve been in love with you all my life, from the moment I met you onwards,” he confessed awkwardly, his voice low in a murmur, and you blushed.

You didn’t respond. Words weren’t really your thing; but actions were. So you stood on your tiptoes, put your arms around Sam’s neck and pressed your lips to his, pulling him into a kiss that held frustration, longing and so many bottled-up feelings. The feel of his tongue against your lips, in your mouth, toying and fighting with your own made your skin tingle and your brain shut down as you gave into the sensations, savouring every single moment.

“Two hunters in love. It’s risky,” you muttered when you pulled away.

“It’s not just risky. It’s mortally perilous,” he responded breathily, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

You giggled as he leaned down to kiss you again.

“And I love it.”

Despair

Pairing: Gabriel x reader

Word Count: 1,235

Summary: The Apocalypse is approaching and Gabriel visits you. 

Warnings: Spoilers for season five, feels.

A/N: I’d planned on writing something cute, not this. Anyway, enjoy!

You’d known Gabriel for a long time. You’d met him while you were on a crazy hunt -caused by him, of course- which turned out to be the maddest hunt you’d ever been on. He’d transported you to a world much like the one depicted in Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland and had shown up, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, a couple of days and countless agonising deaths later. At first, you hadn’t liked him. And you’d liked him even less when, as his parting words, he’d chosen to reference Alice in Wonderland again and wink, saying ‘Eat me’ in a tone of voice heavily laden with innuendo.

No, you hadn’t liked him then. But you’d stumbled across him -or, rather, he’d found you- numerous times after that. And slowly, bit by bit, you got to know him better. You got to see behind his confident, flirty exterior and you started liking him more.

It had been a long time since you had last seen him and, with rumours about the oncoming Apocalypse passing from one hunter’s mouth to the other’s, you always had to remain on your toes; ever vigilant and watchful as you tried to distinguish truth from lie.

It came as a surprise to you when, one day, Gabriel just showed up at the door of your motel room. You had no ongoing case, nothing that could justify his sudden appearance. And yet there he was, flirty smile on his face as he swallowed the last of his candy bar.

“Hello, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ve missed me so terribly much. I definitely have missed you,” he said cheerfully, smiling a grin that brought you back to the first smile he had ever given you; that broad, wonderful grin that seemed more devious and teasing than a genuine smile. Only, this time, he embraced you briefly, showing you exactly how much he actually had missed you.

He then proceeded to push past you and make his way to the bed, where he sat down and continued eating his sweets. For a while, you just stared at each other, your gaze meeting his brown one questioningly.

“What are you doing here?” you said eventually, breaking the perpetual silence of the room. While you were glad to have him there, as you actually had missed him and you liked him a bit too much, his appearance was sudden.

“I’m here to see you. And I brought food,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, as if that explained everything. You raised your own eyebrows incredulously.

“Don’t you have chaos to create somewhere else?” You asked him. “Or have the recent goings-on affected you as well?” You added, kind of jokingly, because you were quite certain that a trickster like Gabe wouldn’t really heed the far-fetched rumours about the Apocalypse.

But his face fell at the mention of that, and he cast his eyes downward. For a moment, he looked broken, torn apart, scared, and then he was okay again, smiling and looking up as if nothing had happened.

“Well, everybody who knows about what’s going on should be concerned. The destruction of the world as we know it could be imminent,” Gabriel said gravely, but his eyes never lost their cheerful glint. “So, you know what we can do to make sure we’re prepared?” he said in a secretive, conspiratorial, tone of voice.

“What?” you asked.

He dropped you a wink. “Sex and food. Lots and lots of sex and eating food to make up for every second in our life that we haven’t been doing one or the other,” he said simply and his tone of voice was so serious that you felt like the laugh you choked out was out of place.

“Gabe. You can’t be telling me that what everyone’s been saying is true. I’m sure it’s just a false alarm,” you said with a shrug.

Gabriel’s serious look returned again then, and he frowned, staring at the long-forgotten and only half-eaten chocolate bar in his hand.

“It’s true,” he said with a sigh.

“How… how do you know?” you asked, somehow believing him. You sat down on the bed next to him and nervously tapped a rhythm with your fingers on your leg.

His hand reached over to cover yours and stop the nervous drumming. At that, you lifted your gaze to meet his, and any doubt you might have had about this whole situation vanished at the pained, fearful look that was still in his eyes.

Everything went downhill from there. Despair fought with fear and chaos tangled with misery to create the perfect cacophony of discord.

“Y/n… I’m not just a trickster. The name Gabriel isn’t just a name. I’m the Gabriel; the archangel Gabriel. And I know that this is really happening; I know that almost all the required seals to start the Apocalypse are broken. There is no escaping this,” he said, his voice pained as his grip on your hand tightened and the desperation in his eyes intensified.

“I don’t know if I’m going to live to see another day. None of us can know. Lucifer could rise tomorrow,” he said, a note of fear in his voice as he spoke.

“Nobody ever knows what life will bring,” you whispered back, unable to do much else other than stare into his eyes. You felt helpless now that you knew that the world was gradually falling apart. Helpless, and drowning; drowning in the world and in his eyes that looked like chocolate and caramel and Gabe.

He leaned forward to brush a tear you hadn’t even realised was falling off your cheek with his thumb, and he didn’t pull away. He was close enough that you could feel his breath -that smelt pleasantly of chocolate and caramel- against your cheeks and lips.

“It’ll be okay,” you muttered under your breath, trying to reassure both yourself and Gabriel with your words. He gave a solemn nod in response. “We can only wait and see,” he replied, and it was your turn to nod.

“Gabriel…” You said helplessly after a while of silence, uttering his name just because you liked the feel of his name rolling off your tongue.

“Y/n,” he was quick to reply, and that was enough to give you the required courage to close the distance between your lips.

The kiss didn’t go as an expected first kiss would. No sparks flew around you; no butterflies fluttered in your stomach and nothing about it was tender and sweet -apart from, perhaps, the lingering taste of sugar and chocolate of his mouth.

It was frantic and anxious and was punctuated by breathy moans and desperate tugging at clothes. It was the kind of kiss that doesn’t satisfy you but only leaves you wanting more and more and oh so much more.

“I love you,” you heard yourself mutter at some point, because now was no time to worry about it being too soon, it was the time to worry about having been too late to say or do something.

Gabriel tugged on your shirt urgently and whispered ‘me too’.

The urgency never left, not even when you lay side by side under the sheets in the bed the following morning, or when you said goodbye three days later.

You never saw him again. That day, a part of you broke. And you somehow knew you’d never get it back.

Join Me

Pairing: Lucifer x reader

Word Count: 1,074

Summary: The reader wants to confront Lucifer, but ends up giving into her darkest desires…

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Hope it’s okay!

Your palms, clutching the gun tightly, were sweating and your hands were shaking visibly. If your hunting partners were there, they would have been sure to tease you about that, as you took pride in your steady hand and perfect aim.

But they weren’t even alive anymore, and all because of the man -archangel, demon, whatever- standing there in front of you with his back turned to you; vulnerable and bare. Nobody had seen him kill them, but word was he had sent his demons to do the dirty job.

Still, it was his fault, his fault, his fault.

Your whole body was shaking with anger and fear, and the adrenaline was pumping through your blood, making your skin buzz and tingle. Every slight movement felt weird, as if you weren’t fully in control of your body and you were feeling someone else control it.

You were so angry, so livid and full of rage, that while you knew your simple bullets would do nothing to harm Lucifer himself, you had to try. Your life held no meaning anyway without your friends and hunting partners, and you’d get your revenge if it was the last thing you did.

Suddenly, the stability in your arms returned and you were able to carefully aim at Lucifer’s back and fire.

The bullet cut right through Lucifer’s vessel’s body, and a spray of blood coloured his shirt crimson, but his face held an amused expression as he turned to face you.

He shook his head and pursed his lips in disappointment, and you felt like a scolded child. Not knowing what else to do, you fired again at him as he approached you, but not so much as a wince of pain crossed his face.

When he was actually close enough so you could feel the heat his body emanated, he smirked cruelly and with a simple twist of his wrist you were pinned against the wall behind you.

“You’ve been a reaaaaaally naughty girl, Y/n,” Lucifer said, shaking his head again and making your blood boil with anger. You were surprised by how human he actually sounded, how real and tangible and not supernatural at all.

You struggled against your invisible bonds, trying to form words so you could respond to him, but you were unable to.

“I can’t decide if you want to ask me how I know who you are or if you just want to tell me to ‘go to hell’,” he grinned, chuckling at his own joke, as you once again found yourself surprised, almost mesmerised by his voice.

Again, you tried to speak, only this time you found yourself able to actually form words.

“Both,” you croaked out, upper lip curling in a sneer of hatred.

Lucifer cast you another disappointed look, and part of you actually felt chastised by it. He was menacing, and imposing, and it felt as if he could make everyone in a room feel inferior just by breathing.

“I know your name because you are a very capable hunter indeed, and I have been keeping a close eye on you,” he said, smirking.

“So close an eye that you killed my best friends?” you spat out in fury.

“I had to do what had to be done to gain a follower, my dear,” Lucifer replied with a shrug.

“Oh, and did you get that follower? Were they worth it?” you almost screamed at him.

He smirked enigmatically. “I don’t know yet. That is up to you.”

Your heart beat faster as you came to a realisation. Lucifer wanted to recruit you.

“You bastard. Why would I ever join you?” you sneered.

“You are capable. You are inconspicuous. You are smart, and talented, and you are just like me. You are a shining star now, your parents’ favourite and your friends’ beloved, but I can see the strain in your eyes. You don’t want this life of a prodigy because your ideals are different. Act upon them; join me, and the world will be at our feet. It will be ours to do with as we wish; ours to create and to destroy,” he said, and you were embarrassed by how close to home his words had actually hit. You had always hated how the hunter’s life had just been thrust upon you without anybody asking you first, and what you had hated even more was the fact that you were amazing at being a hunter.

“We’re different,” you said, grasping at straws. He could see in your eyes that his words rang true, that what he had said had affected you in more ways than you cared to admit.

“Everyone’s different,” he scoffed. “But you and I… not so much. The only difference I can see is that your Hell is right here. You are living it every moment, breathing it in and exhaling it with every breath. And you know it. You can feel it. Yet… you deny it. We want the same things. Accept it,” he said, calmly striding closer to you; so close that you could almost feel his breath on your face.

You held his blue gaze for a long while, neither looking away.

“I am not like you,” you insisted.

Lucifer just gave a cold, low, laugh and leaned even closer to you, touching his lips to yours.

What you realised first was that you were no longer bound by his invisible spell. He was actually giving you the option to decide here.

That took you by surprise, but what astonished you even more was the fact that you were responding positively to his increasingly rough kiss. He was kissing and licking and sucking and biting and, when he met no resistance, he pushed you against the wall and trapped you between it and his body.

“What is your answer?” he asked, voice low in a growl as he pulled away from the kiss that had left you breathless and yet wanting -needing- more.

“Yes,” you said breathily.

You didn’t know why you replied with what you did. The only sure thing was that no demon was possessing you because your anti-possession tattoo was still whole and unharmed.

The prospect of the world being yours was seductive, and you couldn’t say no now that you had the way to make it reality.

Lucifer smirked. “Welcome, my queen,” he muttered and leaned closer to capture your lips in another desperate, needy, kiss.