#I LOVE YOU YOURE SUCH AN ANGEL MISHA MY AUNT

[frostironfudge]

Conversations With The Devil (Part 2) - Bucky Barnes

Summary: For the week 2 writing game by @the-slumberparty i chose to continue one of my first one shots submitted to a challenge, Conversations With The Devil (part one) can be read here. My opening line prompt was 'He was at a crossroads and whichever path he chose would ruin someone’s life.'

Pairing: Soft!Dark!Devil! Bucky x Desi! Female!Reader

Word Count: 6.9k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, seances gone wrong, Oral F and M receiving, horror themes, smut, having sex with the devil?, a smidge of demon cock (nothing explicit just demon p grinding against human v), overstimulation, p in v, multiple orgasms, magic, sort of god complex, a little dark, whump, possession of a family member of the reader (not very horror-esque), protective bucky, horny bucky, devil bucky is a menace. please proceed with caution, you are responsible for your media consumption.

Masterlist || AO3

He was at a crossroads and whichever path he chose would ruin someone’s life. Not that he ever cared for either kind of critters that littered the realms he roamed. Bucky was more so concerned with himself, always himself and his concerns.

Even months ago when he stumbled across those three little humans during the seance. 

He stares at the gold gleaming around his wrist, it was surprising this piece of magick. Remaining uncut by the most demonic and angelic of swords. The fire of hell did not melt the gold. Incantations that would have worlds collapsing did not break the chains.

A curse or blessing upon the human’s family. He scoffs, at least they were no longer binding his neck and right hand. Only one remained around his left wrist keeping the two of them coterminous across realms. He licks his lips remembering her taste on his tongue. His cock hardens, then Bucky focuses his eyes back on the demons arguing in his court. He resists the urge to roll his eyes at their repetitive blabber.

Tear apart limbs this, possess little red haired ragdoll that; Bucky groans internally. 

Then a wicked smile stretches across his face. He should check in on his own little Doll. She did just tempt him. It had been days since he teased her from his throne. The tendrils bellow softly beneath his throne, making their way to the portal he had hidden.

Closing his eyes, Bucky visualises her, hmm, a different outfit than he’d seen her wear before. The long skirt shifts delicately with each step. 

His gaze takes you in, your brows furrow as you turn in the empty corridor trying to discern why the feeling of being watched creeps up your spine. His fists clenched as he stopped himself from allowing you to feel his touch.

You would have to wait.

You’re at yet another boring pre wedding dinner with the entire family. Distant cousins, uncles and aunts all gathered around. The loved by all elders and hated by all cousins, cousin Shaiyana, beams brightly as she shows off her man. 

Only the women in the family can see the faint gold chains that extend from her own bracelet to the boy’s neck and hands. You bite the inside of your cheek.

No one knew yet of Bucky or the fact that the chains had reduced from three to one over the span of six months. His intermittent visits and the one instance where he–no, he wasn’t there because of you. He had to cage that demon. He wasn’t there for you. 

Your mind still brings forth that night, from four months ago. 

Four Months Earlier.

Martin shrugs you off yet again, saying this time the seance would be foolproof. Lesser candles and Misha’s confidence lured you into the plan yet again. So there you all sat, fingers on the planchette. 

Dread filled every crevice of your chest. The hairs on your body rising as the temperature dropped enough for you to see Misha’s breathy exhale followed by Martin’s sniffle.

“Why does this happen to us?” Martin questions, the planchette moves to the letters.

The two of them stare at you with accusatory gazes as your name is spelled out.

“What–,” Your words are cut off as the three of you are yanked into corners of the room. You wheeze out as a pressure builds upon your chest, your hands placed down an invisible force holding you down. 

Misha’s voice echoes with the prayer followed by three claps, you breathe hard as the pressure vanishes. 

“What the fuck was that?” They ask you. 

You shake your head, “I don’t know.” 

Checking your hands, three long lines manifest across your forearm as though scrapped. No words or responses form. Wordlessly you help them fix their living room and leave for your own home.

The studio apartment greets you as you had left it. Every little common sound, reasonable thump has you on edge. Part of you wonders if Bucky would know what that was, if he would even appear again. 

The last time you saw him was when he raised his head from between your shaking thighs and licked his fingers and lips. Then he left. You knew he was still bound when your bracelet gleamed with three chains that seemingly went nowhere. As it did every day since that night two months ago.

You stare at the bracelet yet again and sigh a part of you sought him out. Wanting to know more, wanting to talk to him, feel him pressed against you again. Shaking the thoughts away, you go through your routine before bed.

Soon enough your earlier dread returns just on the cusp of sleep. Before you can utter the little prayer to defend yourself, the weight on your chest returns, heavier than before and you can hear the low growl above you. 

Your bracelet shifts closer to your palms, your folded fingers brush over the chains. Your mind brings forth his deepening azure eyes. 

The presence yet again holds your hands down. It reminds you of sleep paralysis only occurring when you’ve had the most tiring of days. 

“Please–,” You rasp, “Let m-me g-go, p-please–,” The pressure adds onto your throat the tears pooling now brim over. 

You can feel one breath remaining, it's a long shot you know. 

“Bucky.” You whisper into the room, only resulting in the pressure intensifying on your chest.

There is a snarl from the edge of your apartment, darkness shrouds a tall looming figure. Your eyes widen fighting the urge to close. Your struggles increase and the figure moves closer, the shadowy tendrils move across the space wrapping around above you, around nothing and they pull. As soon as they pull away you cough the ability to breathe freely returns.

The darkness now towers above your bed. You watch the invisible creature appear with crooked limbs and bottomless pits for eyes. It is pulled to the ground and a portal closes just as it is dragged under ground. 

You look up at the darkness, it clears, a horned creature watches you, its face covered in cracks as though marble damaged. The colour of its skin is a mix of grey and the cracks seemingly gold.

Its eyes blazing red with a catlike shape, trained upon you as it levitates upside down, you watch the gargoyle-like wings not open to their full expanse given the space, its lower body still covered by the bellowing tendrils. The demon settles across you on your bed. 

It saved you. 

Tilting its head it observes you silently. Lips unmoving just watching you. 

Your hands move to where the other demon’s scratches grave your forearm, its eyes follow the movement. It grabs your forearm and pushes up your sleeve. The demon’s face morphs into surprise you think. 

Maybe it wondered why you were not screaming? Or reciting pages of a holy scripture at it. 

Your brows furrow, its touch is familiar. The long fingers with dark nails begin to morph as they hold your hand, its eyes once again angry. In a practised sequence the horns and wings disappear, then the body, hands and face turn more human.

“Bucky?” Your surprise makes him look away from the scratches. His eyes still red, he blinks and you’re greeted by the familiar azure.

“I’ll make him pay.” He assures, before the tendrils wrap around him, his hands begin to disappear.

You panic again, “No!”

“What is it?” His voice sounds irritable.

“I,” you swallow before meeting his hard gaze, “I wanted to say thank you for answering my call…”

“Your call?” He snorts, you feel his hand better again, “I’ve been trying to find that demon, he’s fucking up all my plans. Made a mess in hell. You think I would answer a mortal’s call? Isn’t that what your almighty above is for?” He sneers, thumb tracing delicately over the scratches a stark contrast to his words.

You watch as they fade, “Oh, well, thank you for um, getting rid of it?” you change the words around. He rolls his eyes.

He stands creating distance between the two of you. 

“Don’t do anymore seances.” He warns, his demonic form taking over yet again before he disappears.

As Bucky stands before the bound demon, he raises his hand and forms a fist. The demon cries out in pain as all three hooked fingers on each of its four hands are crushed.

“You do not touch what is mine. You do not scare what is mine.” Bucky speaks calmly but his threat is clear.

“I’m sorry, Sire. My King I didn’t know that stupid mortal was your plaything–,”

The click of Bucky’s tongue has the demon cower back, the circle engraved onto the ground would not let the creature escape.

“You do not insult what is mine.” Bucky inhales, then closes his eyes, smiling as the demon’s pained screams surround him.

Days later Bucky watches as you go about your day, he’s noticed how you look at your bracelet with a sense of longing. Each time you do, there is a soft tug on the chains on his end. He was surprised when the other demons and creatures could not see the chains. It appeared only you and him could see them.

He follows you around, when one of your co-workers gets a little too close and reaches for your shoulder his unheard to you growl has the man retract his hand. You tilt your head as the co-worker scurries away. Bucky looks down at himself in disgust, what kind of human emotions was he resorting to, jealousy? He glares at you now and claws at the stupid chain around his neck. 

When you return home, you squeak in response to seeing him lounging on your bed, legs crossed and arms behind his head. A pleasant yet devilish smile on his features. If he was stuck with you might as well have some fun.

“What are you doing here? Another demon escaped? Is Cerberus not guarding properly?” You set your bags down on the table.

He chuckles, “It's cute you think I have a pet dog.” 

“What are you then? A cat person–creature?” You correct yourself, trying not to laugh at his exasperated look.

Blue eyes narrow and then rake over you, he did like the outfit. Your leggings tempt him to tear them away. One of his tendrils wraps around your ankle caressing it. You look down at it.

“Bucky, why are you here?” 

The tendril moves higher, wrapping around your thigh.

“You didn’t thank me properly the other night.” He reprimands you, more tendrils superimpose the earlier one, you’re lifted off the floor and brought to him.

“I said thank you.” You tug at the hold on your hands.

“Hmm, I’d prefer if you thank me by getting on your knees.”

“I’m not–,”

“You know I can feel you because of these?” The chains appear then, then fade away, “Every little emotion that overtakes you,” He levitates to meet you above your bed, “Your joy, sadness, pain,” his eyes move to your bare forearm, “Even your arousal.”

Your chest tightens and your clit pulses at his words. He licks his bottom lip, teeth sinking into the pink flesh. Teasing you. 

“Just as right this moment, she misses me doesn’t she?” Bucky chuckles as he feels your arousal permeate through his own body. He cups your mound, warmth seeping through your clothes, the tendrils make you grind against his palm. 

You whimper, trying to close your legs.

“Admit it.” He urges, the tendrils tear apart your top, your bra tattered too, his tongue swirls against your nipple and you feel it circle your clit too, you cry out.

“Admit it, Doll.” He moves to the other, hardening it into a peak as well.

He rises above you, tendrils supporting you, your hands behind your back making you assume a kneeling position. You’re face to face with his cock, leaking precum. Your body thrums in remembrance. 

“Admit it and you can have anything you want.” He cups your cheek, pushing away the stray locks. 

“Want you.” You lean into his touch.

“Open your mouth, Doll.” 

Your lips part, Bucky traces your bottom lip with his tip then sinks into your mouth inch by inch. You moan around him, his hand grips your head. 

“Breathe, Doll. Taking me so well. So pretty with your mouth full.” 

“You better keep that jaw slack, Doll. Gonna fuck your pretty face and then I’ll fill you up.” He promises, “Now,” He grunts as he thrusts and guides your mouth over his thick and veiny cock, “Remind me once we’re done to ask you about the little thought you had about my demon form.”

Your eyes widen, your body betrays you gathering more arousal over your folds. Bucky laughs. He guides your head over his cock, “Fucking velvet, so good. Fuck.”

He pulls out completely, “Oh, I’ll fuck you in my demon form too.” For a moment he morphs into his demon form, his cock thicker that your thumb and fingers wouldn’t meet wrapped around his cock. 

You swallow at the size of him, “It won’t, it won’t, um, fit.” Your voice a rasp, his thumb traces your bottom lip.

“It will fit, you were made for me weren’t you?” He questions, ignoring as the chains glow.

You nod, the two of you are turned, he slides his cock over your folds, the more prominent veins rub over your clit and folds you jolt under him. He morphs into his human form, repeating the movement, drawing out the same response. 

“Oh I’ve missed this pretty pussy wrapped all around me.” He taps your clit with his cock, making you shudder. 

Your hands grip his arms, Bucky sinks into your waiting pussy, both of you moan in unison. Your walls pulse around him. The chain from around his neck fades away as he begins to thrust into you. 

One leg around his waist the other thrown over his shoulder he sinks deeper, you cry out as each thrust is against your gspot, he builds your orgasm, his mouth around your nipple and one tendril tweaks the other. You feel his tongue flick your clit as well, all in tandem with his thrusts. 

Your lips part in a plea of his name as pleasure floods your senses and you arch off of your bed, against Bucky. Your nails rake down his chest, marking him. He hisses.

Your walls spasm around him, coating him in your cum. He smirks as you thrash in his hold, he doesn’t allow you respite, repeating the same movements sending you barrelling into your second orgasm. Tears brim over your eyes, down your cheek to your neck. 

Bucky lets go of your nipple, licking your sweet sweat-slicked skin and moaning at the taste of your pleasured tears. 

“So good, Bucky–,” Your words cut off by a cry as you’re turned, now on top of him, his cock buried deeper, your arms reaching for his shoulders. Bucky watches as you meet his eyes with glazed over eyes, he cups your cheek. Leaning in he kisses you, bruising the tendrils and his grip on your hips guide you over him. 

The tendrils tug and pull at your nipples, “One more sweet Doll, so fucking pretty, such a good girl aren’t you?”

You nod through the pleasured haze, “Your-yours,” You sob as his thrust is deep. Pleasure blooms like hellfire from your toes to your head.

“Mine, all mine.” He growls nipping at your flesh. 

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, Bucky–,” Your third orgasm shatters through you, “Fill me up!” You cry out. 

Bucky gives a few more hard thrusts before he moans your name, his cum coats your walls, you slump against his broad chest, sniffling as the aftershocks run through you. 

“You’re still milking me, Doll.” He groans as your pussy clamps around him, keeping him inside you. Taking all of his seed. 

You only hum in response, your head nuzzled into his chest. Taking in his scent your hands tracing over him lazily admiring him. 

“You’re pretty, both forms.” You whisper, he laughs.

“I belive I’ve fucked you stupid.” He declares making you frown. Pulling away to look at him.

The urge to quell your sadness overtakes him,

“Doll.” He warns. This, what the fuck was all this emotion?

“I said you’re pretty.” Your index finger presses to his chest.

“Find a better word than pretty.” He bargains.

“Can’t think too much cum.” You shrug, if he could act coy so could you.

“Is that right?” He raises a brow, “Too bad, I wanted to go a few more times.”

“Hmm, I do have to thank you properly.” You agree with him, “So are you a demon or a devil?” You ask, holding onto him as you’re turned again laying on your back.

“Pillowtalk? Buy a devil dinner first.” A tendril tugs on your nipple and you swat it lightly.

“A few minutes more.” You pet it, Bucky blinks at your actions.

“What? I don’t have any pets of my own.” You shrug the tendril wraps around your wrist, you smile.

Bucky shakes his head, after round two, he’d leave. Create distance again. 

He could not have your emotions meddle into him. 

He is ruthless, calculative. 

He is cunning. 

He takes what he wants; he cares for no one but himself. 

A king of Hell.

When you fall asleep, he gently moves away from you. 

The tendril you petted pulls the blanket on you better. Bucky stares at it, hands on his hips.

“What part about no attachments isn’t understood?” He whispers. The tendril turns towards you then back at Bucky. “We are not involving ourselves with a human.” He warns the tendril.

The tendril points to your bracelet. As if to say we’re already involved. 

“Just, open the damn portal.” Bucky huffs, as he descends into his realm, he watches the steady rise and fall of your chest and the way your hand sleepily seeks him out, you shifting closer to his residual warmth.

Present.

Warmth floods you at the memories. 

It had been three weeks since his last appearance. Your legs begin parting under the table, the familiar tendril stokes your inner thighs and the remaining drag your lehenga upwards. 

You shut your thighs, pushing the fabric down. 

That blue and red eyed menace. 

“Still three chains?” Your grandmother tuts, your eyes snap to her. 

“I, it’s just been five months—,” Shaiyana stutters, her blonde highlights flailing around her, “It takes time…”

‘Hmm, we’re down to one chain, Doll.’ Bucky’s deep baritone whispers against your earlobe; you feel his teeth graze your flesh. You shudder; he isn't actually here. 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, this is one of his horny tricks. 

“Stop it.” You whisper, his lips ghost over your neck. 

‘I quite like the neckline of this outfit, your chest looks fantastic and this skirt, hmm, could bend you over and just—,’

“Bucky.” You chastise, reaching for your bracelet, the thin gold chain appears and you yank it. 

Bucky’s arm tugs him sideward on his throne. He grasps his end of the shared chain and yanks it as well. 

His court of demons stare at him. Silence takes over the court. 

“What are all of you looking at? What's next I don’t have all the time in the underworld.” He roars at them. 

They look at him and then scutter about before resuming the arguments. 

As a result you knock into the waiter putting the entrées onto your cousin brother’s plate, “I’m so sorry!” 

“I’m not.” Your cousin beams as more food is dropped onto his plate, “These are my fave chicken tikkas.” 

‘Where is my apology Doll?’ Bucky asks, you swat at the tendril on your knee. 

“Y/N?” Your aunt looks at you with a raised brow.

“Oh just a fly.” You swat the other tendril you feel. You glare at the tendrils, they know you mean no harm.

‘You’re being a brat.’

“You were supposed to be here, we had a deal.” You remind him, trying not to let the disappointment get the best of you. 

‘First explain about the chains. Also, I’m busy ruling.’

“You need to be here to ask grandma about it. And stop trying to demon mode sex if you’re so busy ruling a part of hell.” You grit out in a whisper.

“Who needs to ask grandma what?” Your grandma eyes you from where she stands coming to greet everyone at the table. 

“Um just about the ch-,” Bucky’s ring circles your clit, “ah-chains.” You grip the seat of your chair cheeks heating. Oh this little devil of yours is going to pay. 

‘It's cute how you think you can get revenge on me. You're getting tied up today, Doll.’ Bucky warns, all traces of him disappearing. 

“Well?” Your grandmother asks yet again. 

“Why do the chains—,”

“Grandma, if you could just see how good we are together.” The apple of everyone’s eye pleads cutting you off. 

Your cousin brother mimics her whining, the cousins at your table suppress a laugh but giggles escape.

Your aunt shushes everyone.

“The chains are important dear. They tell everything.” She pats her head and then turns her eyes to the empty seat next to you. You wince. Her questioning came from her astute intuition. 

“He’s preoccupied.” You answer, “Meetings, on his way though.” 

She eyes you warily but moves on from your table. 

You slump in your seat. You meet the gaze of your parents and they are disappointed. For an open minded desi family they are disappointed in the lack of presence of your love life compared to your cousins.

What would you tell them? 

A devil creeps into your bed every few weeks? 

That you wish he would stay? 

That you googled how Persephone went to Hades just to know if it's viable for you to move there to hell? 

You’ve laughed to the point of tears over this situation. You could only hope the lesser number of chains meant he would be freed. 

Your theories of the chains fading because of sex was disproved earlier, the second only faded when he had appeared at the club your friends had dragged you to, where you got sick, the nausea from those weird mocktails and greasy food hadn’t agreed with your system. 

All you remember from that night was Bucky carrying, well flying you home after your friends had disappeared with their various hook ups. You had woken up to him scowling at you all while thrusting tylenol, water and then your favourite food in your hands. 

You didn’t think a devil would or could lecture you about parties, but there he was, eyes flickering between red and blue. Voice switching between demonic and human. The tendril you had befriended first had wrapped itself around your wrist offering comfort and Bucky glared at it.

“You cannot possibly think she isn’t to be told off.” He stares at the tendril.

It raises its body then lowers it like a shrug.

“Oh, alright, hm what if she got hurt?” He pauses then, masking his worry with ire.

“I didn’t mean to make you worry.” You look up at him, doe eyed. He inhales then exhales. The worrisome thought crosses his mind yet again. You feel his worry in your chest.

“I was not worried.” Bucky yells, voice fully demonic, you look away from him. His gaze softens.

He cups both your cheeks, “You need to be careful. We don’t know what these chains mean, I try to keep myself out of trouble too. You need to do the same, Doll.” It was the first time he used your nickname without a sexual context.

You both had watched then how the chain undid itself from around his right wrist. 

Something in Bucky’s chest cracks, he swiftly ignores it. The little pang of worry that he may lose you sooner rather than later. 

The hall doors swing open murmurs break out in their presence. You’re pulled out of your thoughts. You watch as Bucky walks in, crossing the threshold that held sacred verses over it with ease. Your jaw drops at his navy traditional sherwani attire. There are intricate velvet patterns on it that give it a raised emboss look. He dressed like that one Indian Film actor did in that one movie that you can no longer recall. All other images gone from your brain apart from this one.

The women of the family all turn to look at you. The chain speaking for Bucky and you before you could. Your grandmother takes your name as she eyes Bucky. He smiles at her. You stand walking to meet him halfway.

“I apologise for the delay, Grandma.” He takes her hand kissing the back of it. Her eyes narrow between the two of you.

“One chain?” She questions.

“We wanted to ask you about that–,”

“After the festivities. Enjoy the dinner, James.” She cuts you off then moves to her original table.

He raises a brow but only gives her a half smile. Bucky turns to you. 

“You like?” He winks, admiring the way your cheeks heat.

“I-, you came?” You ask, Bucky hides his own mirth at the happiness blooming in your heart replacing the earlier loneliness he could feel.

Bucky wants to say something else, you feel his hesitation, “We had a deal.” He runs his hand through his hair, his ring gleaming in the light.

“Let's meet your parents.” He suggests taking your hand and leading you to their table.

The lies flow easily from Bucky’s mouth.

Who is he? 

How the two of you met? 

What does he do with his free time? 

He even has pictures of his white fluffy cat on his phone– Alpine. You raise a brow.

“Cats are nice, misunderstood but nice.” He whispers, his lips brush over your earlobe, “You better not forget what your punishment is,” One arm moves to rest across your chair, his other rests on your thigh. The tendrils begin to work their way up again. 

Bucky’s face is inches from yours, you look up at him. He smiles at you.

“Smile.” He says, you blink, “Smile, Doll.” The tendrils tickle your side, you giggle and the flash occurs. Bucky’s smile widens, taking over his face at the sound of your laugh.

Your younger cousin hands you the polaroid, it's still developing as you lean closer to him.

Your breath ghosts over his neck, “My little devil,” you giggle yet again as you feel his irritation, 

“I’ll show you what’s little–,” He takes a sharp breath when you tug his earlobe and kiss the spot on his neck you had discovered the third time he slept with you.

“As I was asking, will you be in the picture?” 

He sighs exasperated, your questions about all of this ranged from actually fun to answer to can he shut you up in creative ways using his mouth, fingers or cock?

“I’m not a vampire.” He shakes his head, the arm resting across your back softly traces over your arm.

“Hmm, cranky like a hungry one.” You tease.

“Well I haven’t eaten my favourite meal in days. I could eat and no one would know, well if you keep quiet, Doll.” His eyes switch colours, darkened with red rims.

Your brows furrow as you spot a bead of sweat. Before you can stop yourself you wipe it from his temple.

“This sherwani is warmer than I anticipated.” He brushes it off, the waiters place food on Bucky’s plate as well. You don’t look away from him.

“Is it the scriptures?” You ask, he chews the kebab then nods, eyes shifting to the books kept.

“You all prayed before this, correct?” 

“I’m sorry, Bucky I didn’t realise it would be more than what is comfortable, do you want to go outside?” Your hand is placed on his chest.

He licks his lips, “Let me eat my dessert, it's a sin.”

“Are you sure it will help?” Were you actually considering this?

“Hey man, it's so nice of you to come down, she was getting all lonely staring at her phone.” Your cousin interrupts the conversation. 

“Ah yes I was texting her minute by minute.” Bucky nods, you want to laugh. 

You didn’t even have his number. 

“So what do you do?” Bucky questions your cousin. Your mind blanks momentarily as you feel Bucky’s lips ghost along your inner thigh. 

Your cousin replies but you hear nothing, you feel Bucky’s tongue delve through your folds. You grip his hand resting on your thigh. 

‘Not a sound, Doll.’ He warns, ‘So fucking sweet. All for me.’

His moan reverberates against your core, you bite your lip as you feel his fingers delve into you. Thick digits curving deliciously. You reach for the glass of water, your fingers clamp around it as you feel yourself stretch around his ring. 

‘Could stay between your legs for aeons, Doll.’ 

You feel him suck on your clit and you whimper, Bucky next to you presses his lips to your temple. Grounding you. 

‘You love it when I get like this, taking you apart then putting you back together.’ 

His movements gain pace, sweet oblivion within reach and he stops. Your lehenga righted and he kissed your temple again. 

“Seems like we aren’t the only sinners here.” He murmurs. You look at Shaiyana and her partner. The chains are down to two from three. Her hair dishevelled. 

You glare at Bucky. 

“Oh, no this is part of the punishment.” He grins. 

“Bucky.” You all but whine. 

“Needy little Doll aren’t you?” He whispers, “For each orgasm I deny I’m going to reward you.” 

Around you both dinner continues, Bucky teases you relentlessly during the entire time. Thoroughly enjoying the way you squirm for him. Turning into his needy little mess. His greedy little, Doll. 

The fifth time he edges you. You can’t take it, you know distance doesn’t matter he can always use his powers on you. You still excuse yourself from the table, heading to the washrooms. Your cheeks warm, flushed because of Bucky. You fix your dupatta’s draping in the mirror. 

“You have got some nerve.” Shaiyana observes exiting the stall. 

You raise a brow. 

“Oh come on your boyfriend suddenly appears just as I debut mine and one chain? How many times has he fucked you?” She turns to face you. 

“They don’t disappear just because of sex…” you trail off. 

“Oh please, Grandma’s rules clearly state about bonds and binds. How they forge forever and how they break.” She scoffs, flipping her hair back. 

“Shaiyana, how does the bond break?” You swallow, wondering if it is what you wanted, to lose Bucky. 

She looks back in the mirror meeting your gaze through it, “Finally you’re away from, Sire.” 

Her eyes turn fully black, no whites nor her dark brown irises visible. You take a step back. 

“You have him distracted. We don’t like distractions. The only thing good about you? Your mortality.” Her voice haunts you, gooseflesh raising across your skin. 

“He won’t appreciate you hurting me.” You warn, moving towards the bathroom door. You try not to let fear consume you. 

You try to reach out to Bucky through the bond. You feel nothing. 

Shaiyana cackles, “Aw, he isn’t your knight in shining armour.” She steps closer towards you. Her voice is akin to chalk screeching against a board.

You look at the bracelet, the chain does not manifest. You look back at your cousin just as her hand comes in contact with your cheekbone. The force of it pushing you against the granite counter, you groan as the corner hurts you.

Bucky’s brows furrow, you aren’t back yet. The side of the bond that allowed him to reach you was subdued. He walks up to your Grandma, she turns sensing him. 

“I see your curiosity cannot wait.” She smiles standing up, he offers her his hand. She grasps it, leading her towards the balcony. His gaze everywhere trying to find you. 

The tendrils move along the edges of the room, taking over the venue to find you. 

“How did you know my name?” He questions her, there is a thrum around her, iridescent old magick exuding from her aura. 

“I know quite a bit about the demons and Kings of Hell, boy. What I should be asking is what made you choose a mortal?” She raises a brow at him. 

“I didn’t know about the curse until the binds—,”

“You know what I mean.” She gives him a knowing look, “You do know before the binding you were asked if you will explore this with her.” 

Bucky looks out onto the city lights. He remembers the ancient words, he remembers his affirmative reply. He wanted you. Then reality seeped in. Bound to a mortal? Bonds that work across realms? Forcing himself to not seek you out for two months.

He looks back at her, “She was not supposed to become more.”

“And now? You want to break it?” Your grandmother watches him.

“What do the chains mean?” He questions.

Unease trickles across him as the tendrils return with no news. He looks at her. She senses his emotions.

“I have to find her.” Bucky returns to the hall then out into the hall.

He frowns, there was a corridor to the bathroom here why can’t he see it?

“You’re going to break the spell you have on our Master.” Shaiyana’s nails dig into your cheeks. The water overflowing from the taps, the cold seeps into your back. She was slamming your hand into the floor trying to get the bracelet to break. 

There was something possessing her. You had to do something.

“I didn’t!” You cry out in pain that breaks across your knuckle. Moving up your palm. 

“He keeps visiting this realm. He tortured demons over you. His own kind.” Shaiyana snarls and you feel the sting of a slap. 

“He wants the bond gone.” She tells you. Your tear stained eyes meet her obsidian ones.

“How to break it?” You ask, “Did he send you?” 

She smiles, “He did, oh you fell in love? You fell for the King? You, a mere mortal? Be worthy of him?” She laughs. 

In her distraction you begin to pray, she takes her hands away as if burned by your skin. You push yourself away, slipping as you make your way to the door. Shit, shit, shit.

Shaiyana stands again, you pray again, slamming your hands against the door hoping someone would hear you. “Bucky!”

“Stop calling his name!” She warns moving closer to you.

Bucky hears a thump, he turns to the seemingly placed wall. He places his palm on it. It scalds his flesh. His eyes turn red. A seal placed upon the door. He presses both palms to the wall. 

It begins to give way, he hears your pained cry of his name. 

“Doll!” He calls out.

“Bucky!” 

The tendrils slither through the cracks, the seal was drawn outside the door. As the tendrils latch onto it, “Get away from the door!” He yells. You step back, pausing the prayer. Shaiyana yanks you back by your hair.

The door burns as Bucky steps through it. The flames disappear, behind him the cream coloured door now blackened. He stands there anger coursing through his veins. The image of him right now exudes power. 

You whimper as Shaiyana smiles up at him, her nails digging into your scalp, “I did as you said, Sire. The way to break the bond? Break the bracelet or kill her.” She adds.

“When did I place such a command? Are you trying to overthrow me?” He raises a brow, “Release her.” 

“Bucky break it–,”

“No.” He cuts you off.

“I fear it is worse than we thought. He cares for her.” She taps her foot thrice.

A portal opens beneath the three of you. Bucky sends the tendrils forth to break your fall. He switches to his demon form. The tendrils pull you to him. Tucking you to his side. He snarls at the demons gathered around. Shaiyana lays on the ground, unconscious. 

“You have to make a choice, Sire. A bewitching mortal or your duty as King.” The demon that was possessing her procures a blade. Your eyes widen. 

Your hand grips his forearm, he looks down at you, “They would kill you?” 

“They wouldn’t dare.” He looks back at the demons.

“Bucky, let me break it.” You plead.

“Why? Do you not want–,”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“I won’t.”

The glimmer of the blade shines through the fires burning, you do the most mortal thing Bucky expects. Covering his form with yours, “Are you insane?! I need you alive!” He yells.

The blade is stopped by his hand. It burns his flesh.

“What is this sacrificial human bullshit? You do not die for love! Be selfish! Stay alive damn it.” He yells, throwing the blade back at the demon. His wings expand, covering the two of you and Shaiyana from the blades and hexes that are sent your way.

“But–,”

“No. I don’t want the bond to break. Do you know I was asked before the binding. If I wanted this? I agreed.”

“Then why were you gone?” You demand, the tendrils begin to branch out. 

He raises the cracks in the ground. The demons around you stop their attack. All pausing because of the sigils made into the ground.

“I wanted you, Doll. Do you see this? The insubordination?” He glares at all the demons, he turns back to his human form.

“I kept a watch on you. I wanted to know what the chains meant. I dived into research but this is heirloom magick passed down between generations. Not kept in any scripture.” He explains, you blink several times.

“Wait, you said love?” You ask him, he stares at you.

“Just, just sit here and do not look at or touch anything.” He makes you sit on his throne before stepping away. 

“Bucky?” 

He turns back to look at you.

“I don’t want the bond to break too.” Your words make him smile, the familiar tendril wraps around your wrist.

The gold chain around his left wrist disappears, in its place a gold chain bracelet remains. 

The two of you share a look, the bond thrums steadily between the two of you. 

“Now let me go take care of these fools before I return to have you ride me while I sit on my throne.” He winks at you before turning yet again.

Your grandmother looks at Shaiyana asleep on the couch of the hotel lobby, then you, then Bucky. 

“She was possessed?” Your Grandma questions. 

Your devil and you nod.

“She was taken to hell?” 

The devil and his human nod again.

“You both verbalised not wanting the bond to break?” 

You both nod yet again.

“I see. Well I’m not going to deal with the six month crap Demeter had imposed.” She stares at Bucky.

“She’s free to travel realms.” He answers, thumb stroking over your hand.

“Hmm, trust the one who loves horror to snag a devil.” She teases you, “Alright now head on home. I’ll get someone to help with her.” Your grandmother heads back to the banquet hall.

Bucky chuckles, lips pressing to your temple. You close your eyes, when you open them you’re back in the throne room.

“I have to reward you.” He says sitting down on his throne, the tendrils help your lehenga bunch around you as you straddle him, his length pressing to your core.

“That you do, my little devil. My King.” You nip at the skin of his neck, he growls hands gripping your hips.

“Doll.” He warns, moaning as you grind against him.

“Yes?” You continue tracing your lips over his flesh leaving your own little marks upon him.

“After what you achieved today, exposing those who stand against me? You’re going to make a fine Queen and your first order of business?” He lifts you up, clothes melting away from your bodies, slowly he guides you down on his hard length. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you moan against his lips.

“You are to scream your King’s name, my Queen.” He tugs on your bottom lip before kissing you deeply, as he pulls away, “Did you know ancient heirloom magick is one of the strongest forms?” 

You feel so full, the tendrils tease your nipples, “Bucky–,”

“I sensed the magick in you the minute I saw you.” He raises you and has you slide down on him again, controlling your movements. 

You meet his eyes, they have red rims around the darkening irises. Bucky smirks, as he brings you closer to him. Your clit grinding against his trail of hair. You moan, he grasps your chin. 

“You and your magick are both to be mine.” He kisses you then as you feel yourself fall backward, landing on a soft mattress, Bucky’s hands move over your skin. From your hips over your sides one hand remains around your neck, the gold chain of his bracelet gleams. 

“All of it was for the magick?” You rasp, he studies your features. 

He thrusts into you, your walls quiver around him, “Always so fucking beautiful and tight, such a good girl for me.”

Your nails leave little indents into his biceps, “James, answer–Oh–,” 

You moan as his tip brushes over the spot that sparks the pleasured waves to thrum through you.

“All of it,” He thrusts into you deeper, rutting against you, your legs wrapping around him tighter, “Was for you, Doll.”

AN: i never thought i'd get to writing a part 2 for this one shot but here we are, i'm quite proud of it and i hope you enjoyed reading!

Permanent Bucky Taglist: @slutforsexyseabass

#bucky barnes au #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #buck barnes fic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff #james barnes x you #bucky fluff #sebastian stan #bucky x yn #bucky x plus size reader #the winter soldier x you #frostironfudge #bucky barnes x plus size reader #james buchanan barnes x you #white wolf #bucky barnes angst #bucky is the best #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky fanfic #marvel #bucky x y/n #Bucky barnes x desi reader #Devil Bucky Barnes #navy and roo's sleepover #navy and roo sleepover

[mashkaromanova]

Alexandra (‘Sunny’) Feodorovna, 1895

“My darling Ernie dear,

I send you my very tenderest thanks for your sweet letter the Admiral brought. How glad I was to see him & hear about you dear ones, you can imagine - it was nice of you seing [sic] him so often & letting him live in the Schloss. I am sure you must have noticed his funny walk - poor man was wounded in the war inside of both legs. - 

It is such a pitty [sic] Aunt Alix [Alexandra, Princess of Wales] had to leave - really she acted as A.[unt] Minny’s [Maria Feodorovna] comforting angel, & she misses her sadly, - we sit now more with her - yesterday we took tea upstairs & then Nicky read to us till 7 - a most interesting French book about Prince Eugène; it shows one Napoleon in quite another light - how kind & nice he could be. He arranged the marriage between Eugène & the Elector Max’s daughter, as he was made King. Nap: letters to her of affection & telling her to care for her health, giving her advice & so on - I never imagined such a soft side to his character.

Then in the evening we sat with her from 8-11 1/2, talking, working & she & I play Halma, I fear I usually am disrespectful enough as to win usually. Misha [Michael Alexandrovich] remains till 9 1/2 or 1- & arranges little electric lamps & all sorts of things & pricks ones, & what does he not still do! - I am sitting by the window in the big armchair in a corner, half-hidden by the screen - & dream of my sweet home. Beloved Nicky has got his aggravating people - in the morning I don’t see him for two hours, but in the afternoon whilst he usually reads his heaps of papers from the ministers, I look through the begging letters, of which there are not few & cut out the stamps, & if do not do it tidily am slightly reproved.

I get the Darmstadter Zeitung wh.[ich] I greedily devower [sic] - every bit of news interests me, & yesterday I saw then announced the death of Sophie v. Rotzmann - do tell Georgiana [von Rostmann] how grieved I was to hear of her Aunt’s death - old Mme du Thil’s cousin, - & Uncle Alexander’s friend. My beloved (Jucker coachman) Berthalot I see has been promoted to real coachman. You see how I follow everything & Finger’s [Jakob Finger] 70th birthday - had I now it sooner  I should have telegraphed - do tell him so next Wednesday with kind messages & good wishes. 

Yesterday was the day the river is blessed, but it was quietly done this year & none went. Here there was of course service & the day before too (in commemoration of Christ’s Christening in the river Jordan) & water was blessed & we each got a glass, drank a drop & then keep it in our rooms covered over. Then the old Priest J. & two deacons & some of the Choir go through the whole house & in to all the rooms, & sprinkle them with water, blessing them - a curious old custom done also at Trinity. - Excuse my untidy writing & bad English, but I am half ramolie. - I wonder how the little dances in our house went off. The first, since beloved Papa’s death - is it not painful for you, darling, reminding you of the sad service & all hung black? - 

Darling Boy, I cannot tell you how much I think of you & miss you. - The 9th month to-day that you are married. - About wh. date do you hope the happy event [birth of his child] to take place? You must be anxious - but I am delighted to hear darling little Ducky is so well. - Xenia I think expects in June - she is very well only paler than usual & I don’t think feels ever as sick as poor Ducky did; - her good health now is all owing to Orchie’s daily mess she brought her - do tell her that; - did she like Nany’s sugar candy?

You can think of how awful the reception on the 1st was. 14 Ladies & heaps of Gentlemen, I thought I should die - to speak French to the most - horrid - & almost every face unknown to me - it lasted over an hour. - I admire my Nicky how well he does it - often enough he has to go through the same ordeal - but Ladies are much the worst - with Gentlemen it is easier - I think 70 on the whole. He spoke to all the men, I only to the Ambassadors & some of the secretarys [sic]. By the papers I see Albert Menzdorff is coming - at least someone I know, wh. will be pleasant. The new Austrian Ambassador Prince [Franz of] Lichtenstein is quite charming - I think even taller than Gummibaum with a long fare [sic] beard & handsome face. -

Do kiss dear Ducky & thank her for her letter, wh. I shall soon answer. Kissing you very tenderly I remain, Darling, beloved Ernie, yr very loving & devoted Sunny.

[P.S.] God bless you my darling. I hear Fürst Hohenlohe [Prince Chlodwig of Hohenlohe-Schillingsfürst] does not intend remaining much longer - whom will they find to replace him? - And Casimir Perrier gone too. - You remember that day of the large dinner when we had later to speak to the people, Admiral Gervais (can’t spell his name)? The other day - touching - he sent me a ring with one nice pearl on it inside ‘La V.[ierge] M.[arie] règne par le coeur’. Really the French are most amiable, but this was quite privately sent. Love to Abby who I hope it well. He might write to me once. Nicky sends you both his very best love. The Sultan has send us two Arab horses. - Messages to all at home, Mino, Georgiana & the Gentlemen.”

- Alexandra to Ernest Louise, Grand Duke of Hesse, 7th/19th January 1895

#alexandra feodorovna #1895 #1890s #romanov #romanovs #imperial russia #history #letter

[4llmywr1tings]

Early Arrivals

Characters/Pairing: Jensen X Reader, Kim, Jared, Words: 1,851 Warning: pregnancy hormones, water breaking?... A/N: you are Kim Rhode’s little sister. (Y/N): your name. Tagging: @autoblocked

+

Jensen’s Point Of View

“I know, I just wish I was there. With you.” You sigh as you walk down the hall. Jared and Misha were up ahead of you, goofing off while making some live stream for some reason.

‘I know, and I wish you were here too, but you know how much the conventions mean to your fans. And I know that it means a lot to you too.’

“Babe. I. I don’t want to miss the birth of our daughters.” You finally find yourself in the green room with the rest of the cast for the day. Kim gives you a smile, but stops short of hugging you when she sees your face.

‘First off, I know you want to be there and you’re going to be there. I still have a month and a half.’ (Y/N) gave a sweet laugh and it made you really missed your wife right now.

“Don’t make me miss you anymore babe.” you order, laughing slightly.

‘Yes sir.’ she mocks with a giggle. ‘Babe, go have fun. If anything is going to happen, you’ll be the first to know. If I can’t get ahold of you, we’ll do what we’ve practiced. I’ll call Kim, then Jared, and then Misha. You’re only in Seattle, so a flight back home will be quick. I promise you won’t miss anything.’

“Promise?” you ask quietly.

‘I promise. I want you there when I’m pushing, so I can break your hand. If I have to.’ she laughs, trying to make the mood lighter.

“Ok. I’ll hold you to that baby.” you sigh, motioning to Jared who was calling after you. You hold up your finger and clear your throat. “I’ll be back later and I’ll call you baby. Okay? I gotta go.”

‘Okay handsome, I love you Texas.’ she replies.

“Right back at you gorgeous. I love you, my brown eyed girl.”

+

Your Point Of View

After hanging up with Jensen, you stand from your resting spot in Kim’s hotel room. There were three things you knew. One, you hated being apart from Jensen. Your husband was your life, and you loved every waking minute with the handsome dork. Two, it was only a two and a half hour drive, so flying wasn’t an option, and you were going to be with him this weekend. He seemed to need it. Three, if you were having the babies - it would be in Seattle. There was no way you’d let him miss out on this opportunity. You saw him as an “uncle” of sorts to Thomas and Shep, and you knew you wanted him to be a dad two your two angels.

Coast is clear, they’re at their panel, and Misha is doing. Something. Being Misha. You should come down.

You smile at the small hidden message about Misha, and quickly respond.

Sounds good. I’m just getting my lazy butt out of bed. I’ll see you soon!

You put your hand on your swollen belly and slip in to your shoes, pulling yourself together you rush out as quickly as you can; only excited to see the look on your husband’s face when he would see his surprise.

+

“Wow, for someone holding two kids in there, you made time mamma,” Kim giggled as she watched you waddle into the green room.

“Well, I miss Jay, and the only way I’m going to make it is to walk fast.” you wrap your arms around Kim in a hug and join her on the couch. She puts a hand on your tummy and after a few seconds, your babies had started kicking, knowing their aunt was near.

“Well, how are you feeling?” she asks, handing you a water bottle. “Ready to have these kids?”

“Yes. Very much.” you yawn. “One minute they’re giving mom too much energy, and the next they’re making me tired. And the heartburn.” you clutch your stomach as a Braxton Hicks contraction hits, painfully in the usual spot on your stomach. “And the Braxton Hicks. Always with the Braxton Hicks.”

“Just a month and a half, and they’ll be full term. Come on little bear. You can do it."

“Ugh, why did I ever let you start calling me that? Mama Bear.” you stick your tongue out and scrunch your nose.

You loved your big sister, but Kim had become more and more of a mama bear once you had announced you were pregnant.

“Because I’m a big sister, and I have to be that way.”

“Yeah. I know. Man, I just want them to be here. I wanna be a mama.” you smile at your sister, and suddenly go to clutch your stomach.

“Are you okay?” she asks with a worried tone to her voice.

“Yeah. They’re just getting to me. And you know me and pain. I’m a big baby.”

“Try walking around. I know you can’t take a hot bath, but walking may ease your pain.” She instructs, standing to help you up.

But things were going to happen differently. After a sharp pain, your sister gave you a look of all looks - eyes almost bulging out of her head.

“Did that just happen?” you ask grabbing on to your sister for support. “Did my water just break?”

“Yes. What do you need?” she goes into mommy mode and stands, gripping her phone almost to the point of breaking it.

“All my clothes are in your room. I want to change, but. I. I just want Jensen.” you wail, holding to your stomach.

“Well, let’s get you changed, and then maybe you can go and tell him yourself.”

+

By the time Kim had returned with fresh clothes, an aide had gotten you a blanket. Your sister helps you into comfortable clothes, and then she slowly leads you towards the stage. You wanted Jensen to be involved and you wanted to be the person who told him his kids were on their way.

Even though you knew he was having a good time and you almost felt bad to stop him, you knew he’d want to be there.

The crowd was laughing by the time you made it backstage, laughing at something the boys had done.

‘Well, all I know, after ruining that scene for like the hundredth time, I knew she was going to be pissed.’ Jensen chuckles and clears his throat. ‘I see her walking towards me, one of the fastest speed-walks I have ever seen in my entire life. She grabs me by the collar of my jacket - my Dean leather jacket - and almost drags me away before I can even get my footing under me properly.’

‘He’s right. I didn’t see him for an entire weekend.’ Jared snorts, getting a laugh out of the crowd.

‘Well, it did start me on the best adventure of my life.’

You take a microphone from a stage hand and walk out slowly, putting your finger to your lips as the crowd starts to cheer.

“He has to say that. He may or may not be scared of my big sister and her best friend.”

Jensen shot around - almost too quickly for his chair - and let the chair clatter to the ground as he heard your voice.

“Ladies and gentlemen, while Old Man Ackles calms down, everyone. Meet Mrs. Ackles, and Ackles 1 and Ackles 2.”

It had been almost two weeks since you had seen your husband last – between your last moments before maternity leave and his schedule, you had no time to be together. So you weren’t surprised when Jensen buried his head into the crook of your neck. You tighten your hold on him and let him breathe in a few times.

After a few seconds, over Jared’s babbling and the crowds laughing, you hear Jensen clear his throat and then straighten up to kiss you on the cheek.

“It’s like they’re so gross and in love and its. Ugh.” Jared shakes his head at you as you both finally look to him.

“Well, it’s been two weeks since we’ve been together, and I missed her. What’s your excuse when you and the wife are together?” Jensen retorts, causing you to laugh.

“Sure, sure. I mean not that I don’t like seeing you (Y/N), but what are you doing here? Weren’t you in Vancouver?” Jared looks to you, and your husband content to have one arm around you, and another placed comfortably on your stomach, rubbing your swollen belly methodically.

“Well, about that. I decided to get a few amazing people in on this, and they got me here and I was hiding out in my sister’s room until they came here. But unfortunately I need to steal Jensen away from y’all.”

“Why?” Jared whines. “I don’t want to be left alone with Misha.”

“Yeah, well looks like Ackles 1 and 2 are going to be a little early. Ready to be a dad soon?” You meant the last part for Jensen, but the crowd went wild anyway.

“Um, I. I gotta go guys. I’M SO SORRY! I’M GONNA BE A DAD!”

+

By the same time the next day, you were the proud parents of – not the two girls you were expecting – two beautiful boys. You were at a loss for words that you were finally a mom and couldn’t have been happier. It gave you immense joy to watch as Jensen held tight to his two small and swaddled sons. So much in fact, that you were caught staring, too many times.

“What, what are you staring at?” Jensen asked with a grin. Right about now your two boys were sleeping soundly on Jensen’s chest, and he was content to miss the game on TV and stare at his babies.

“Oh, you.” you stretch quietly and turn to your side.

“Me, why me?” your first born Ashton shudders a big sigh before going back to sleep. Jensen’s hand goes to the baby’s back for reassurance.

“Oh, because daddy looks good on you, and I am so in love with this picture right now.” You reach over to your hospital tray and find your charging phone. You aim the camera at him and he gives you a tired smile. After viewing the photo you had taken you smile back at him. “So in love.”

“We make two cute kids, don’t we?” Jensen asks with a happy gleam to his eyes.

“We sure do, now let’s snuggle as a family. Here,” you order, wiggling your fingers to your husband. He swiftly stands with both babies, and walks to the edge, handing you the younger one - Lucas - as you sit up. Jensen walks around the bed, toeing off his boots as he makes it to the other side. Slipping into the bed, he turns to you and gives you a long, passionate kiss.

“I sure do love you Mrs. Ackles. You and my two boys. You. Are. My. World.”

You let out a small yawn and clutch to Lucas, as you put your head on Jensen’s shoulder. “Yeah. My boys. I like the sound of that.”

#jensen x reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles one shot #jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles rpf #jensen ackles rpf fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles rpf fanfic #jensen ackles drabble #jensen imagine #jensen one shot #jensen fanfic #jensen rpf fanfic #jensen rpf drabble #supernatural rpf imagine #supernatural rpf fanfiction #supernatural rpf fanfic #supernatural x reader #spn #spn one shot #spn imagine #spn fanfic #spn drabble #spn fanfiction #spn fan fiction #spn rpf #spn rpf fanfiction

[yeet-me-into-oblivion-please]

Well, Supernatural is actually ending and I don't know what I'll do

[ Brevity is not a strong suit of mine since I've included personal details but there's stuff I feel everyone in the SPN family needs to read]

You might be expecting another post about how Supernatural saved someone's life and how devastated they will be when it ends because they've watched it for so long as well as how the actors have impacted their lives. This is probably one of those but please hear me out.

Supernatural premiered in 2005 and I was in preparatory class (aged 5 years and was before I began 1st grade). I heard of it because my aunt would watch it time to time so I'd also tried to get some peeks myself but I wasn't allowed to because it was "too scary".

Then our local cable began to show seasons 1-5 and that was when everyone in class started watching and quoting it. This was in 6th grade and I was frustrated because I knew about it before most of them yet they acted like it was a new show. I had a fair idea about the story but once I began watching it, I fell in love with it and loved it like a part of my soul.

Yes, Jensen Ackles was my first crush but I still thought (and do think) that both he and Jared are super hot. So I was sucked into this vortex, this Neverland which I never thought I would end.

I joined Tumblr for this show in 2013 because I saw the jokes about there being a Supernatural gif everywhere and wanted to be a part of the fandom/community. This was also the year I actually became interested what other fans felt though I never used this site properly until 2016 I would read the IMDb discussion boards because I hated scurrying through Destiel-infested posts.

(Fun fact:I wasn't using any social media of my own but on my mother's Facebook I liked a Supernatural fan page asking people's opinions on Destiel. This is was around the time season 8 was just finishing or had already finished so I read the comments--- people talked about Dean and Castiel being gay and didn't approve of it as there was this one girl who was conservative and didn't believe in homosexuality while others went on how Dean was always a ladies man which I agreed with. Not that I commented but I thought there was something I missed and I thought Castiel used Dean as a vessel, thus Destiel.)

But I digress. I was in deep by the time season 9 premiered and majority of the people I knew stopped watching the show except for this girl who bullied me throughout preschool who put up this update that Dean had become a demon. I doubt she watches the show now but it was hard seeing her put pictures of "I heart Dean Winchester" and pictures of Jensen when my mom asked me why I don't do the same.

Supernatural, I feel, has become that embarrassing thing you are into in middle school but suddenly drop when you're older, looking back and thinking, "Yeesh, I can't believe I used to watch this show."

I'll be a grown woman at 30 or 40 and probably eventually in my 70s and 80s but I will still look back fondly, the good, the bad and the ugly because I have like many teenagers have undergone many changes (friends, family, emotions, hobbies etc) but Supernatural has always been this constant in my life.

Because let me tell you, I'm seeing these posts saying stuff like how people are glad that it's finally over with its "bullshit" and that's it's dying. That is extremely disrespectful and insensitive to those people who literally live for it, who have invested time and money into it: gif makers, artists, meta writers (I may not agree with you guys but even you count). They don't know what to do once the show ends because it has helped them in ways others will never ever be able to fathom.

I saw the video put up by the guys. I saw and I could tell that Jared, Jensen and Misha had probably cried their guts out before the announcement because their eyes were red and puffy. Jared was controlling himself by talking less as Jensen was clearly on the verge as well but yes they said that they should save the angst for next year.

I love the guys; I love Jared being a goofball and Jensen being equally goofy as well and I'll say this too, I used to enjoy some of Misha's crass jokes (not the highlight ) as well which was why I looked forward to the gag reel every summer (because of J2) because it was cathartic after a traumatic season finale. I love the witty banter and the pranks the cast would do and I will miss it tremendously.

I have some issues with my aunt but everything would be okay when we would fawn over the guys and bingewatch the entire season the summer after it finished airing. We'd quote quotes back and forth and even spiritually killed ourselves watching short clips of "Sammy, close your eyes", "I'm proud of us" etc. Hell, she even promised me that when we go visit my uncle in the States we'd attend a con together.

If, and whenever we do go, it'll be different because the show won't be on air anymore and I know for a fact that I won't feel the anticipation of an episode.

So don't say disrespectful and callous things like "fucking finally". You can dislike the cast/plotline/show but don't ridicule and mock those who invested in the show,some of you are most probably speculating and have barely seen it.

I'm not some dumb, blind fan. I can see some stupid mistakes and don't always eat up what the writers show. For example, everyone must have figured that I dislike Destiel because it's based on groundless assumptions. I thought the Bloodlines was a crap idea that had nothing to do with the main plot and knew it was destined to fail.

As for Wayward Daughters/Sisters or whatever the fuck it was supposed to be called, I was not looking forward to it at all because it was one of those "forced diversity" shows, y'know gender bent stuff.

I felt that they were bastardising everything that Supernatural has and will (always) stand for because some people had a hair up their backsides. Yeah, I loathed Claire and that Kaia mourning thing was bullshit. Thank goodness I was sick that day and couldn't keep my eyes open for that episode.

If we were told that there would be a Men of Letters(with Henry Winchester) or even a Bobby-Rufus spinoff I would be okay with that but for now since the show will finish next year let's the wounds heal first, shall we?

I hope that Jared and Jensen get some offers once the show is done and I will pay good money to see movies, TV shows of them etc but for now I will keep quiet since I hope we get an ending we (and the boys) deserve.

Yes, the writer situation scares me and I think they should call Eric Kripke for a last hurrah. I mean, it is his baby and he should get to have a say in the series finale as well as J2.

Will one of the brothers die and the other will live (I'm worried we'll get a reverse Swan Song)? Will they both die leaving Cas behind and Jack as some sort legacy who trains future hunters? That would be a possibility since the sheriff in 14.16 asked the Winchesters why they don't tell people about monsters. What happens to Baby?

I seriously doubt the ending will be happy(maybe not 100%) but the best thing would be if they go driving with Baby into the sunset...

Dean at the steering wheel with Sam riding shotgun, where they should be ---- where they will always be, home. Dean plays his "mullet rock" as Sam would playfully mock his brother's musical choices. No chick flick moments. Just the Winchesters.

The boys need to lay their weary heads to rest, so they can cry no more. Because they are the legendary Winchesters, the hunters who saved the world countless times unbeknownst to many. I don't think their work will ever be done but there will be peace when they are done and how they will reach that point we'll never know till 2020.

Everyone will hear "Carry on wayward son" for the last time ever in Supernatural over a painful montage of "Dad's gone on a hunting trip and he hasn't been home in a few days" and "Saving people, hunting things, the family business". Now who in this fandom wouldn't be wracked with pain?

This is the show we all joked about that made a deal with the devil to never go off air but I did expect this a long time ago. Only thing was that I didn't know how I'd treat the news. I was that person who would go, "pfft, of course Supernatural would get renewed". Then again, this was the show that an ending was imminent and the whole season 4 debacle about Misha and the angel storyline saving the show blah blah blah.

So next year, everyone will flock to see the finale and epic conclusion to the Winchester saga whether they stopped at season 5,6,7 or 10,12. Diss it all you want for the shit show it may have become but wherever you left off, you may still want to know what happens to Sam and Dean Winchester in the end.

Once Supernatural ends, I'll turn 20 next summer and I would like to think of it being poetic that I end my adolescence with a show I have loved when I brave the cold, ruthless world of adulthood. I'm a picky person and can't say what's my favorite xyz is but you know what I'll say about my favorite TV show.

We will have completed 327 episodes which is the highest for a scifi TV show so I do hope the boys get some sort of recognition. It was us crazy bitches and jerks that gave the show the mileage and it was us that gave Jared and Jensen faith that they could carry on so for the remainder of season 14 and for 15,support these guys. Support these annoyingly sexy and ridiculously hilarious dudes for this show. I'm sure Jared and Jensen love the show like it's their kid practically but I wish everyone would just shut up, tinhatters, bronlies, stans, destihellers because we are all fans of the one show so let's ease the time we have left.

But seriously imagine Sam and Dean on a desert highway, the orange and yellow rays of the setting sun make Baby shine in all her splendor which makes Dean swell with pride. He starts the engine with a low rumble and they're off. They might to California to feel the sand beneath their feet or to Disneyland. They're living the "apple pie life" and this is their personal heaven : with each other.

I wouldn't mind this playing in the background if the ending is the inevitable and unspeakable you know what :

It's wishful thinking, since I wish they'd actually play some Zeppelin instead of song titles being used as episode titles but I wish they could use some Queen or Guns n Roses and stuff before 1979 because everything sucked ass afterwards according to Dean.

I want the classic rock resurgence in the show as well but I know they'll end up using the cash elsewhere. I wouldn't mind a body swap episode but if wishes were horses, right?

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #misha collins #jack kline #alexander calvert #j2 #j2m #destiel #sastiel #padackles #sabriel #mishalecki #cockles #deancas #casdean #wincest #spn #spnfamily

[go-diane-winchester]

Why I detest Misha's stance as a liberal thinker

I have edited out this person's name for their own safety because they said something positive about me.  And the hellers are not going to be happy about that.  If Jensen can get threats from these people, then so can this individual. 

I can understand you resistance.  You probably spent ten years loving the man.  People cant just switch that off, especially when the guy champions something that the fan might find meaningful.  Women of color still remember Jensen's co-star Megalyn with fondness, as well as the eyebrow-raising sex scene between them.  Jared spoke favorably about Muslims, with Jensen nodding vigorously in agreement and Muslim fans found that meaningful.  When a trans fan takes pictures with a  beaming Jensen or Jared, other trans fans feel happy about it.  Everyone looks for something to love about an actor.  Then are also actors whom we might hate because of something they did that made them fall in our eyes. 

Maybe you are LGBT and Misha considers himself an LGBT champion.  You feel welcomed and included in his circle in a way that you don't, with J2.  I get it.  Maybe you are a woman, and feel like he is a feminist champion.  There are many reasons why anyone would like the guy.  If you have loved him for some many years, for those very reasons, some yahoo yelling her head off on Tumblr, is not going to change your mind.  I get it.  So if Misha is a nice guy, how come I still don't like him?  It is because I don't feel that man is genuine, that is why?

There are two kinds of problematic liberals:  The posers, and the bullies.  Misha is both of them.  I think there are nice liberals out there.  And once upon a time, liberalism was obviously a nice thing.  The idea sounds nice.  You want to not exclude people.  You want people to love as they wish.  You don't want hate governing your existence.  That is how liberals thought.  Now that has changed.  Misha, and people like him, are liberal bullies.  It seems to be the norm.  Liberal bullies don't work for change.  They want to enforce it aggressively.  And the worst thing is, they speak for everyone else.  There are LGBT fans that hate Misha and wish he would keep quiet.  There are women like me who think America has too many nasty women.  Why does it need more?  What hypocrisy though.  America needs nasty women, but destiel shippers are perverts.  So women aren't allowed to sexually express themselves without being seen as perverts and their art being reduced to porn.  That is Misha being a poser.  He is a champion for the LGBT but made a trans joke about Jensen's picture from his younger days.  Posers are hypocrites.      

Compared to him, Jensen is a proper liberal.  Jensen doesn't overtalk about ''how inclusive'' he is.  He doesn't brag, in other words.  Jensen considers inclusiveness about including everyone.  This includes the Christians.  He is friends with the Ducks, but his aunt is LGBT.  That is how to be a liberal.  You don't exclude people and then say you are including.  The first time Misha was asked about his role as an angel and about Christianity, he bashed the Bible.  I am a Muslim, but I was well and truly offended on behalf of the Christians in the audience.  I feel sorry for any Christian who paid to sit in that audience and get treated so horribly.  What a let down that must have been.  Jared did something similar once, regarding Christianity, on Twitter, but later amended his ways.  You make mistakes.  You learn.  It is what makes you human. Misha, as far as I know, hasn't done that.  But I would love to be corrected.

Jensen is a liberal where it counts.  He is not an activist, 24/7.  Jensen had a heart to heart with a trans fan once, and urged her to get out of the closet.  She promised that she would.  But if the same guy says no to destiel, he gets a death threat for being a bigot.  Why is that happening?  Because Misha has spent ten years, educating his younger fan base.  The millennials of today were teens back then.  And he has completely conditioned their thinking.  They have mini-Misha tendencies and feign offense at some really silly things, because they think it will benefit him.  Getting mock offended at everything that comes out of Jared's mouth is one such example.  Like him, they mock a situation or go straight into campaigning and activism.  His entire behavior with regards to Trump is faulty. 

Trump was the reason, I actually liked Misha.  Because Misha was vocally against Trump, I respected that.  I cant like a man who misplaces about a 1000 children at the border.  But then Misha didn't stop.  His tweets seemed to be more for attention than for the greater good.  That is liberal bully mode.  Liberal bullies tend to mock.  How is that going to help the children at the border?  How is it going to stop America from economic collapse?  He is not helping the situation.  He is not educating anyone.  There are gay men who hate the couple that sued the Christian bakery.  The couple were liberal bullies.  They said that they could find a liberal bakery but were ''making an example'' out of the bakery.  In other words, they were destroying the livelihood of an entire family to make a point.  The gay guys who were against them, were proper liberals.  They recognized that what this couple was doing, was unethical.  Of course, I lost respect for Misha's anti-Trump stance, when I realized he was in girl power mode and pushing for Hillary.  If somebody cant see anything wrong with Hillary, then they are blind.  Misha was urging people to vote for a vagina.  As a woman, I say, NO.  Affirmative action has no place in government...or anywhere else for that matter.  Vote for character and integrity, not girl power.

I am not young.  Maybe that is why my perspective of the world is different from yours.  Maybe you don't see what I see.  For now.  But one day you will grow a little older, and might see the world with some wisdom in your eyes, and then you might realize what I am saying.  Misha is a troublemaker and an influencer.  It took me eight years to realize this.  It might take you longer.  But I hope you see the light some day.  I once said I wouldn't speak about Misha's politics.  But since, I realized he is a hypocrite, I have changed my stance.  I am South African.  There are no liberals amongst us, but American politics is in tatters because of loud mouths like Misha, and its baffling to foreigners like myself to watch.  You don't even see the division. 

Please excuse the typos and thanks for reading.

#misha #jensen ackles #destiel #cockles #jenmish #jensen and misha #deancas #casdean #dean x castiel #castiel #cas #bi dean #dean is bi #dean and cas #jenmisheel #dean winchester #destiel headcanon #jdvm #misha collins #sam winchester #sam and dean #jensen and jared #wincest #supernatural #jared padalecki #padackles #performing dean #sabriel #sammy winchester #j2

[all-or-nothing-baby]

THIS or THAT - cool little tag game thingy

@petrichoravellichor as you know, distractions are my jam - thanks for the tag, my lovely wifey!

Rules: bold your preferences and tag 10 (or some) of your dudes people.

COFFEE or TEA (Milky yet strong coffee AND earl grey. I will not choose!)

EARLY BIRD or NIGHT OWL ("What hath night to do with sleep?")

CHOCOLATE or VANILLA

SPRING or FALL (Autumn is my favorite season.)

SILVER or GOLD

POP or ALTERNATIVE (I was in love with David Bowie from the age of 4.)

FRECKLES or DIMPLES (I have both! But I'm going with the angel kisses.)

SNAKES or SHARKS (LOVE reptiles and snakes are such lovely softies.)

MOUNTAINS or FIELDS

THUNDERSTORM or LIGHTENING (you can't have one without the other...)

EGYPTIAN or GREEK MYTHOLOGY (Ooh, I love a good tragedy! And the Ancient Greeks were such drama queens.)

IVORY or SCARLET

FLUTE or LYRE (Jethro Tull all the way, baby!)

OPAL or DIAMOND (opal is my lovely birthstone.)

BUTTERFLIES or HONEYBEES

MACAROONS or ECLAIRS (egg custard tarts!)

TYPEWRITTEN or HANDWRITTEN (I'm old skool - I write all my fics/poems etc by hand in blank paper notebooks before I type them up.)

SECRET GARDEN or SECRET LIBRARY (I adore books and used to work in libraries before I went back to university to study art, then had another child, then got sick. But man, I'd love to run my own book shop.)

ROOFTOP or BALCONY

SPICY or MILD

OPERA or BALLET (I was a dancer until about age 13, when rock'n'roll/playing guitar took over. I still enjoy watching the ballet though and I love Matthew Bourne's productions.)

LONDON or PARIS (My aunt used to live about 10 miles outside of Paris and I'd visit as a kid, so it has a special plane in my heart.)

VAN GOGH or CLAUDE MONET (although I did visit Monet's home at Giverney and it was a pretty magical place.)

DENIM or LEATHER (But that was a bloody tough choice.)

POTIONS or SPELLS (I still have a 'spell book' that the aunt I mentioned above bought me when I was about 8 as I was born on Halloween and she always said I must be a witch! Here's a pic:

My youngest son still likes reading it.)

OCEAN or DESERT (I was born by the sea but moved away at age 25. I still miss it.)

MERMAIDS or SIRENS (Selkies! In Scottish mythology, Selkies or Selkie folk [meaning "Seal Folk"] are mythological beings capable of therianthropy; changing from seal to human form by shedding their skin. They are found in folk-tales and mythology originating from Orkney and Shetland.)

I know some of you are already tagged but hey, sue me. My 10 dudes: @narraukoiel @aloha-cowgirl @jupiterjames @winchester-reload @crack--attack @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @may-darling @suckerfordeansfreckles @dammitsammy @cutelittlekittykorner

P.S. Um, @petrichoravellichor look at our answers. Bar a couple, they're the same . . . YOU AND I REALLY WERE SEPARATED AT BIRTH ! ! !

Obviously, ignore the tag if you don't clap your hands wildly at silly little games like this (as my inner 6 year old clearly does.)

#tag you're it #go tag yourself #i got tagged #tag taggy tag tag #this or that #let's play #the powers of distraction #mwuhahaha

[katymacsupernatural]

Should Have Been Faster

Dean X Reader

1300 Words

Story Summary: After receiving a call, Dean drives as fast as he can, needing to be by Y/N’s side as quickly as possible.

Written for the Fabulous Fake Title Challenge hosted by @just-another-winchester and I. Requested by @clairese1980

Written in Dean’s POV

Four little words running through my mind, over and over as I pushed the Impala to the max. Should have been faster, I kept reminding myself, knowing that there was still so much distance between Y/N and I. Too much time, too many miles before I had her by my side once again.

“Dean, you’ll know we’ll be there in time,” Sam tried assuring me, but my jaw stayed clenched, my eyes on the road as I sped at least fifteen miles over the speed limit. I shouldn’t have let her go, not by herself. I knew what could have happened, but when she turned those beautiful eyes my way, I couldn’t say no. It had seemed so simple at the beginning, just a girl’s weekend with her, Jody and Donna. Sitting around Jody’s house, maybe going out to the spa, or whatever else girl’s did. She had pleaded with me, saying she needed time with women, and I had given in. Knowing that I would do anything to make her happy.

Never had I imagined that someone would mean so much to me like Y/N did. She was my everything, and I knew I would never forgive myself if something happened to her. When I received the phone call this morning, I had pulled Sam to the car without a word, needing to leave as fast as possible. To be by her side when she needed me the most.

“Sam, I shouldn’t have let her go,” I muttered, my hands tight on the steering wheel. “What if something goes wrong? What if…,”

“Dean, she’s with Jody and Donna. They aren’t going to let anything happen to her,” Sam tried to say, sighing when I didn’t seem to relax at all. “We’re only an hour out.”

“I know. Too long,” I muttered, wishing the Impala would go faster.

The road never seemed to end, each mileage sign seeming to say the same amount of miles until I was next to Y/N. Stopping for gas, I pulled out my phone, trying to call her, my chest tightening when there was no answer. Without taking the time to call Jody, I climbed back into the Impala, impatiently waiting for Sam to return from the bathroom. He hadn’t even clicked his seatbelt before I was pulling out onto the highway, once again speeding down the cracked road.

The sun was starting to set by the time Sioux Falls appeared. Tension had my shoulders straight, my jaw clenched, my knuckles sore from holding tight to the steering wheel. Sam had stayed silent the last hour of the ride, often checking his phone for messages from Jody. But whatever she had said he didn’t pass on, instead letting me sit there and fret.

I drove straight past Jody’s, not even slowing to see if her truck was still in the driveway. I knew where Y/N was, and I hated the thought of her being there without me. She shouldn’t have to be going through this without me by her side.

“Dean, why don’t you pull up to the front, and I’ll switch spots,” Sam suggested, and I gave him a slight nod. Sliding to a stop in front of the main doors, I placed the car in park, climbing out and leaving it behind with Sam. Racing through the front door, I went immediately to the front desk, asking for Y/N.

The nurse glanced patiently at me, no doubt used to tense and fearful people at her desk all the time. “She’s on floor three. The elevator’s around the corner.”

Without even thanking her, I rushed around the corner, hating the feel of the hospital. This is why I tended to stay away from them as much as possible. Too much white everywhere, reminders of death and illnesses everywhere. Not to mention all of my bad memories of hospitals that made me weary of them.

Tapping my foot impatiently, I waited for the elevator to slowly make it’s climb to the third floor, thinking it would have been better to take the stairs. As soon as the doors opened, I spotted Jody standing off to the side, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “Jody!” I exclaimed, rushing forward.

Looking tired, she smiled up at me. “You made it!”

“I drove as fast as I could,” I admitted. “But where’s Y/N? How is she?”

“Come with me,” Jody insisted, taking my hand and pulling me along with her. Sitting down on a couple of chairs, she placed her coffee down before turning to me. “Y/N had a hard time,” she started to explain, my hands clenching more with each word. “It was long, and hard, and the doctor’s were worried about her for quite some time.”

“But now?” I whispered, hoping for good news.

“Now she’s sleeping, and the baby is fine. Congratulations, your a father,” Jody beamed. “You have a beautiful little girl.”

“A girl?” I breathed, even though I still couldn’t get past the fact that Y/N had to go through all of this alone. “Oh Jody, I should have been faster. I should have been here when she needed me the most. How is she ever going to forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive!” Jody exclaimed. “You’re here now, and that’s all that matters. Why don’t you go in there, see if she’s awake yet. I know she would love to see you.”

On shaking legs I made my way to the door marked with Y/N’s name, pulling it open and stepping inside. Y/N was asleep on the bed, her hair spread out, dark circles under her eyes. Pulling the chair up beside her, I took her hand in mine, staring at her, killing myself for not being there for her.

It was only a couple minutes later before she started to stir, her eyes blinking before she peered tiredly up at me. “Dean, you’re here?” She mumbled.

Reaching up and brushing the hair from her cheek, I nodded. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner. I heard it wasn’t an easy labor.”

“It was long, and exhausting, but it’s over now, and we have a beautiful baby girl. I can’t wait for you to see her,” she told me, smiling up at me as if I hadn’t messed up and missed it all.

“Y/N, how can you be happy with me? I wasn’t here for you,” I asked, surprised when she squeezed my hand.

“Dean, it was my decision to come up here for a girl’s night. You tried to keep me home. But I don’t think it’s your fault, or mine. Babies come when they’re ready, and I guess she wanted to be up here to meet her aunt Jody, and aunt Donna. Please don’t beat yourself up over this. Please Dean,” she pleaded, and I nodded.

“I’m just glad both you and the baby are safe,” I answered, leaning over the bed so I could capture her lips with mine.

“Oh, this must be the father!” The nurse exclaimed, coming through the door just as I pulled away. In her arms was a tiny bundle, wrapped in pink. “Would you like to see your daughter?”

My heart beating fast, I carefully took my baby girl from the nurse, holding her gently in my arms, afraid I would squish the precious girl. “Y/N, she’s perfect,” I whispered, staring down at her in amazement.

“Yeah, she is. I’m so glad you’re here,” Y/N whispered as I came to stand next to her. Realizing that even though I had wanted to be there earlier, I was just glad I was there now. To be a part of my family, to see the happiness in Y/N’s eyes as I held our little girl for the first time.

Dean/Jensen Tags:@acreativelydifferentlove @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278 @anokhi07 @aubreystilinski @bebravekeeponfighting @colette2537 @crusadedean @deanwinchesters-impala67 @haelyn @horsegirly99 @ikeneasul11 @its-not-a-tulpa @just-another-winchester @librarygeekery @msimpala67 @lenaabs @love-charmer-sketch @ria132love @ruprecht0420 @shadowhunter7 @sizzlingbearpolice @sleep-silent-angel @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @thesaneone @torn-and-frayed @wonderfulworldofwinchester 

Forever Tags: @16wiishes @4401lnc @amanda-teaches @andreaaalove @angelsandwinchesters @anspgene @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @bemyqueenofdarkness @bohowitch @bumber-car-s @brooke-supernatural16  @brunettechick @camelotandastronauts @captainradicalpassion @chelsea072498 @clairese1980 @captainemwinchester @createdbybadappreciation @darthdeziewok @destiels-new-girl @donnaintx @dont-you-dare-say-misha @dslocum89 @duckieburns @docharleythegeekqueen @emmazach @emilicious-7 @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008  @essie1876 @generalgoldfishldrm @goldenolaf25 @growningupgeek @herbologystudent252 @hms-fangirl @ichooseeternalplaces @imboredsueme @internationalmusicteacher @ithinkimadorable-67 @iwriteaboutdean  @jayankles @jbbarnesgirl @jensen-gal @just-another-busy-fangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @keelzy2 @leanbeankeane @li-ssu @littleblue5mcdork  @lowlyapprentice @luciferslucille @maui137 @mellowlandrunaway @mogaruke @my-squirrel-and-moose @nanie5 @newtospnfandom @percussiongirl2017 @pilaxia @pizzarollpatrol @plaid-lover-bay25 @ronja-uebrick @rosegoldquintis @roxyspearing @samaxraph99 @samanddeanmyheroes @sandlee44 @shamelesslydean @sillesworldofwriting @sgarrett49 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnwoman @sunskittlex @superbadassnatural @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @teamfreewill92 @thebikiniinspector @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @tmccarney @totallovelesson @tunadean @vvinch3st3r @whimsicalrobots @wildlandfox @winchesterbrothers-inc @winchesterxtwo @winchester-writes @worldwidehansum @zombiewerewolfqueen

#fabulous fake title challenge #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural reader insert #katy writes #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction

[the-awkward-writer]

My Angel

Pairing: Jared x daughter!Reader, the entire Supernatural Family

Word Count: 1.8k of pure angst

Warnings: ANGST. ALL THE FREAKING ANGST. swearing, childhood cancer, death of a major character

A/N: Holy shit am I sorry about this one. I actually cried multiple times whilst writing this. This is the fifth, and last fic for Angst Appreciation Day. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me. Also HUGE shoutout to @iputthesininbuisness. They beta’d ALL of my fics for AAD and they probably hate me.

Based off of: Angel by Sarah McLachlan

x

You were surrounded by people.

Your Uncle Jensen and Aunt Danneel and their kids. Your Uncle Misha and Aunt Vicki with their kids. Your dad. Uncle Mark and Aunt Sarah with their children.

You were surrounded by people you love.

Right now, Jensen and his friend Jason Manns were singing your favorite song from their album, Simple Man.

Tears were in everyone’s eyes including your own as you smiled softly to their melody.

Everyone knew this night wouldn’t last forever, you especially. The tumor that had originated in your brain had metastasized to virtually your entire body. It was in your lungs, and bones deeming it as irreparable.

The tumor was killing you, and you were going to die.

From the day you and your father found out that the tumor had spread, the doctors had given you three months to live.

Now, exactly three months later, you were on your last night. Everyone could feel it in the air, even the children who are usually rowdy in the presence of each other were dead silent.

The entire Supernatural family was crammed into the small hospital room. They all wanted to be with you when the time finally came, lord knows you were all there for them.

“Take your time,” Jensen breathed out. He knew this line was the worst possible thing to sing in this situation, “Don’t live too fast.”

The tears forming in Jensen‘s eyes were becoming harder and harder to conceal as the lump in his throat made it hard to sing.

He swallowed as Jason continued strumming, “Troubles will come, and they will pass.”

Misha looked from Jared, to Jensen, to you. Jared watched you intently, the love and worry clear in his eyes. He loved you more than life itself. Misha knew it would kill his best friend when your time came. Jensen sang while Jason played the guitar. It was obvious it was hard for the both of them to not break down and cry. You were laid on your back in the small hospital bed. Jared was at your right side, holding your hand. Your head was turned to the left, your eyes focused on Jensen and Jason. A small smile was playing on your lips.

It took almost all of your strength to turn your head to the side. Jared gave you a soft smile and wiped his eyes of tears.

“I love you, Daddy,” you voice cracked from your dry throat.

The tears that Jared tried to hide came flowing back tenfold, “I love you too, baby. I always will.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you whispered as tears of your own came flowing down your face.

Jared scooted closer to you, a large hand falling on your bald head, “There is nothing you need to be sorry for, Y/N,” Jared said fiercely, “Nothing at all. You are everything I could’ve asked for in a daughter, you understand? I love you more than anything else,” he said.

A tear fell from the corner of your eye, and you nodded. You gave him a weak smile, “Don’t be forever alone, okay?”

Jared raised an eyebrow, “I don’t know what you mean.”

You rolled your eyes, “Find someone, dad,” you said, “You’re not getting any younger,” your voice was raspy, the strain on your vocal chords obvious. “Find yourself a hot lady friend.”

Jared huffed a laugh, “You’re insane.”

“I wonder who I got that from.”

Jared’s tears fell against your hospital gown as he leaned over and kissed your forehead.

“I don’t want to see you for years, you understand?”

The dam broke behind Jared’s eyes, “I don’t think I can wait that long.”

Your eyelids became heavy. You knew the end was drawing near. “Daddy, I‘m scared.”

“I know, honey. I know.”

“Does it hurt?”

Jared shook his head, “Quicker and easier than falling asleep.”

“You’re not Sirius Black; how do you know?”

“Because all the pain that you’re feeling now will be gone. You’ll be in your happy place. You’ll be happy.”

“But I’m happy here. I want to stay here with you guys.”

“I know, baby. But sometimes you need to let go,“ The words Jared was saying almost killed him, but his baby girl was in pain, and she needed relief.

“I love you, Daddy,” you could feel your heart rate slowing, “I love all of you guys,” you tried to say slightly louder so everyone could hear you.

Almost everyone nodded or hummed, they heard you. They know you love them, and you know they love you.

That was all you ever wanted, so you did as your father said.

You let go.

Your body shuddered as you drew in your last breath and released it.

Jared watched as your chest fell. He was waiting for it to rise again, but it never did; it never would. The long drawn out beep from your heart monitor only confirmed his worst fears.

His baby girl was dead.

He took your small, pale hand in his much larger ones, and pressed his forehead to his knuckles as sobs wracked his body.

Danneel pressed her hand to her mouth, trying to contain her own tears. She looked over to her husband to see tears flowing down his face.

Misha’s crestfallen face soon had his own tears sliding down to his chin, not stopping until they got to the collar of his shirt.

The entire room was in tears.

But no one more than Jared.

His entire body shook with the force of his cries.

The only thought running through his head was enough to send him through a downward spiral lasting for years:

My daughter is dead.

Jared sat at the first pew, just staring.

The service had been done with for over an hour, and everyone had left him alone.

He looked at the small casket, the memories flying around in his brain, burning him with nostalgia.

The first time Jared saw you, you were in a baby carrier on his front steps.

There was a piece of paper pinned to your shirt with a name and date scrawled across it.

‘Y/N Padalecki’ it said. ‘07/23/02′

Next to your carrier was a diaper bag filled with clothes, diapers, bottles, formula, and large manila envelope.

Jared took you inside his house and set the carrier down on the kitchen island.

He opened the manila envelope, pulling out its contents.

Inside there were six things.

One, your birth certificate. Two, a paternity test proving that the child in the car seat was his. Three, a picture of the baby next to a woman that Jared vaguely remembered. Four, a letter addressed to Jared. Five, a letter addressed to Y/N Padalecki. Six, signed custody papers from a courthouse in Texas.

Jared opened the letter first. The letter described the night two people met. The two people being Jared and this mystery woman. The letter told Jared that this mystery woman stole a toothpick from Jared’s trailer trashcan and used it later to prove Jared’s paternity. The letter then described the predicament the baby’s mother was in. She is a drug addict and can’t take care of a baby. She grew up in an orphanage, and didn’t want to put her child through the same things, so she dropped the baby off on Jared’s front step. The letter said that there was another letter with Y/N’s name on it, and she wanted Y/N to open it when she turned 18. It was signed by a person named Becca Wilson.

Jared looked from the white college ruled paper filled with black ink, to the sleeping baby in the car seat.

Jared could see the resemblances. You had his nose and hair. Your eyes were not yet open so he couldn’t see the color of your eyes.

Seconds later, your eyes fluttered open, and in an instant, Jared knew that he couldn’t let you go. You had his eyes.

Jared ran a hand down his face. He never regretted his decision to take you in. You were his daughter. No matter what.

Even when you were ten, and the doctor spoke those horrible words, Jared never wanted to let you go.

The doctor knocked on the door. Jared voiced a quiet “Come in.”

Your migraines were getting worse as the days wore on, so Jared finally took you to your pediatrician.

The doctor took off his glasses and rubbed his aged face with his right hand.

“Mr. Padalecki,” he said as he replaced his glasses. “Y/N has a tumor in her brain.”

Jared felt the air being punched out of his gut at those words.

His baby girl had cancer.

He held you close to his chest that night as you slept. After the doctor’s appointment, and scheduling a consultation with a pediatric oncologist, you and Jared went home to watch a marathon of cheesy movies and pig out on ice cream.

That night, as he held your small frame, he cried.

He cried and prayed to a God he’s not sure he believes in to spare your life.

You were the greatest kid Jared knew, and he wasn’t just saying that because you were his daughter.

You were kind and caring and compassionate. You were understanding of Jared’s depression and helped him get through it.

He wanted to walk you down the aisle, and threaten the boys that you brought home. He wanted to protect you for the rest of his life.

Jared buried his face in his hands. “God, Y/N,” he choked out. “I’m so sorry sweetheart. I wish I could have done more to protect you.” His voice broke and he was yet again reduced to tears.

He jumped as he felt a hand land on his back. Through tear filled eyes, he could see his best friend.

Jensen sat down next to Jared. Jared’s body shook as a sob was ripped from his body. Without a second thought, Jensen wrapped his arms around his best friend’s neck, bringing his head to his chest, “It's going to get better,” Jensen found it hard to speak around the lump in his throat. “I promise.”

Years after your death, Jared listened to your words, and found himself a hot lady friend.

Her name is Genevieve Cortese.

Well, Padalecki now.

Jared had three kids with her. Two boys and a little girl.

All throughout their childhood, Jared’s kids knew about their big sister, watching them from Heaven

And when the famous actor and generous man died of old age, you jumped happily into your father’s arms.

“I see you took my advice,” you said with a smile.

please don't kill me

tags: want to be added or removed? shoot me an ask!

Forevers:

@evyiione, @iputthesininbuisness, @mogaruke, @thatshellfiredean, @jannalionheart, @thing-you-do-with-that-thing, @whit85-blog, @allofmyimagination, @ria132love, @stressedbisexualwinchester, @infinity-dreamchaser, @not-impala, @bluedefundead, @bluecookiesandbooks

Jared Tag List:

this is open! shoot me an ask to be added!

Additional Tags:

@faifre123

#angst appreciation day 2017 #angst appreciation day #jared padalecki #jared padalecki x reader #jared padaleckixreader #jared padalecki x daughter!reader #jared padaleckixdaughter!reader #jared #jared x reader #jaredxreader #jared x daughter!reader #jaredxdaughter!reader #jared padalecki angst #jared angst #angst #reader insert #spn #supernatural #my angel #my writing

[cas-essence]

Rules: Always post the rules, answer the questions given to you, then write 10 questions of your own, and tag 10 other people.

Tagged by @gneisscastiel, @starsinursa and @magnificent-winged-beast Thank you so much for tagging me! This was fun! :)

(First I wanted to select three questions from each of you, but then I got into them and just decided to answer them all :D)

Questions by gneisscastiel:

1. What is your favorite rock or mineral?

Amethyst, because my mum wore it a lot when I was little

2. Have you ever seen the northern lights?

Yes, actually I have. When I flew back from the US to Germany, I had to change planes in Island at 4 am. I saw the northern lights from the plane window that night. Most beautiful flight I’ve ever experienced

3. Do you like cilantro?

I had to google what that means in German and no, I don’t. It’s one of the few herbs I don’t like

4. Favorite song that’s been used on Supernatural?

“Oh Death” by Jen Titus. Fun fact, I knew that song and that it was used in spn long before I started watching the show. It was ultimately what got me to watch.

5. What is one place you would like to visit before you die?

This is the hardest question of all of these. Traveling is my number 1 goal in live and there are so many places I’d like to visit. Picking “the one” is hard, but New Zealand is definitely up there.

6. Do you believe in a higher power?

I’m an agnostic, so … ultimately, I believe that good and evil originate in humanity and whether you justify one or the other by citing a higher power doesn’t make your actions less your own.

7. What are you afraid of?

Two things: The loss of the people that are most important to me and the loss of my ability to wholeheartedly enjoy live.

8. Favorite episode of Supernatural?

The Man who would be King (I already cried by the time Cas had finished his monologue before the titlecard.)

9. What color are Castiel’s wings?

What a great question!

I have about a thousand different headcanons concerning Cas’ wings, some of which actively contradict each other.

First, for anyone really into wings I’d recommend Northern Sparrow’s two-part fic “Forgotten” and “Flight” which feature some of the most well thought out wing headcanons I have ever seen. (Although by their hitcount I’m pretty sure the whole fandom must have read them by now and I don’t really need to rec them.)

I personally believe that if Castiel manifested his wings on earth, their color would be a seemingly plain, yet elegant mixture of greys, whites and blacks, because humans would not be able to perceive their true colors. Some animals, however, are able to see the different spectrums that are invisible to humans. (That’s why bees like Cas as much as he likes them ;) )

10. What was one of the meals you had today?

I had Pizza :D I wrote an exam today and after that I didn’t trust myself with cooking anything fancier than that.

Questions by Starsinursa:

1.What song would you choose as the theme-song for your life?

“Veitstanz” by Subway to Sally (I realize that most likely noboby knows either the band or the song ^^)

2. What’s an embarrassing story about you as a child?

Puh, I don’t remember much, even though I probably did a lot of embarrassing stuff. The only thing that comes to mind was when I was about eight years old and enthusiastically embraced a man in a shopping mall because I thought he was my father. He wasn’t.

3. What’s a hobby or skill that you want to learn?

I really want to learn how to play the harp.

4. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever eaten?

My mother once made roman snails for dinner and didn’t tell me until I ate them all. I must say, they didn’t taste half bad.

5. If you could pick your age, what age would you want to stay forever?

Gosh … none? Honestly, I wouldn’t want to stop ageing. Each age has it’s merits and drawbacks. Sure, right now I sometimes feel overwhelmed because I’m suddenly supposed to act like the adult I do not feel I am, but it’s not like being a child or teenager was always easy. So, I think I’ll stick to ageing.

6. What’s your least favorite household chore?

There is a reason none of my clothes are ever ironed …

7. Have you ever been told you look like someone famous, and if so, who?

Someone once told me I looked like Jennifer Lawrence :D

8. If you wrote an autobiography, what would the title be?

How to lead your life through trial and error – a comprehensive guide

9. What’s the meaning of your name?

Sophie –> wisdom

10. What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?

A few days ago, a relatively new friend told me that with me, they don’t feel that they have to pretend to be someone else. Since it took me so long to accept myself as who I am and not try to pretend to be someone I’m not to fit in, this means a lot to me.  

Questions by Magnificent-winged-beast:

1. Which are the most influential books over your lifetime?

Harry Potter – Those books were the first ones I read myself and to this day, I reread them at least once a year. Like so many others, they helped me through some very difficult times and when I didn’t know where to go, I could visit Hogwarts in my head. I don’t think there will ever be a fictional world that will influence me as much as these books have.

2. What your patronus will look like?

Well, on pottermore, I got the Marsh Harrier, which, according to Wikipedia, are “medium-sized raptors and the largest and broadest-winged harriers.” Before the test, I always hoped I’d have a bird as a patronus, so I’ll happily take this one.

3. Where do you think you will go when you die?

I honestly don’t presume to know that. I HOPE that we will be reborn when we die (Mostly due to the fact that I hope that, if we have souls, they will get more than one lifetime to learn and grow), but do I think that that is more likely than anything else? Not really.

4. How many times did you watch Supernatural entire series from the beginning to the last season?

Three times and since I only watched it for the first time a year ago, you can imagine how much time went into that over the last year. Also, I often rewatch random episodes when I feel like it.

5. Where is your Happy place?

In my mind? At Hogwarts

In real life? On a specific Mountain in Austria, where my grandparents and aunts and unlces build a cabin. There isn’t a more peaceful place in the world I can think of.

6. If it were possible, would you like for your consciousness be transfered in to an android after you die?

Um, no. Just no. As much as I love steam punk, I don’t think that would be a pleasant existence.

7. Do you believe in our Hot Over Lord Misha Collins?

I sacrifice a sock monkey each day at the altar I build for him out of old cereal boxes and plucked chicken feathers.

8. Do you prefer a Human!Cas or you wish Cas to keep his Grace and everything that makes him an angel when he comes back?

Tricky question. At the end of the day, I love Cas in every single form he takes and if they manage to write a believable arc for him I will accept both as his end-game. I also believe it is likely that when the show ends, Cas will choose to turn human or stay human, whichever it is by then. That being said, I don’t necessarily like that that is the case. I’ve never liked the shows narrative that Cas’ allegiance is somehow tied to what he is. He is obviously not happy with the angels (at least as a whole), but does that mean he is necessarily unhappy as an angel?

My problem is that current canon would suggest no, but sadly, I’m not too happy with that. Cas needs to accept himself and in my few, that means he should not have to sacrifice parts of himself, which his grace clearly is.  

9. Which song do you think could perfectly fit for the first kiss on screen of Dean and Cas?

Depends on the kind of kiss it turns out to be. If it’s Dean, about to rush into danger and thinking “To hell with it!” and kissing Cas sloppily on the mouth before running of, I’m voting for Highway to Hell. If it’s softer, if, for example, Cas and Dean are standing in the bunker kitchen and Dean is trying to convince Cas not to leave again and so he kisses him, gently and pleadingly, then I’d like it to be an acoustic guitar version of “You are my sunshine”.

10. Tell me about a recurrent dream that makes you happy.

I honestly don’t have any reoccurring dreams. Sorry

My Questions:

1. Who is the most important person in your life?

2. What was your least favourite subject in school?

3. If you could trade places with anyone on earth for one day, who would it be?

4. How did you discover Supernatural and why did you decide to watch it?

5. Who was your role model growing up?

6. Are there any local legends or myths where you live and if so what are they about?

7. If you could abolish one thing that happened on Supernatural from it’s canon what would it be?

8. What do you do on weekends to relax after a particularly stressful week?

9. Is there a headcanon about Supernatural you have never shared on tumblr?

10. The Quote you want to be remembered by:

I’ll try not to tag people who were already tagged by the people who tagged me. If I missed someone I apologize. :)

@fangirlingtodeath513 @babybluecas @winchdean @destielonfire @aini-nufire @teachercastiel @huggy-bears @teamfrwill @saltrounds-and-hellhounds @lunaroceanic

[thatpunktrekkie]

Tagged by @nerdqueenenterprise I’m tagging

@autisticarchieandrews  @hells-finest-gentleman  and anyone else who whats to do this tbh

THE LAST

1. Drink: water

2. Phone call: my little sister

3. Text message: my dad

4. Song you listened to: 500 miles The Proclaimers

5. Time you cried: two days ago

6. Dated someone twice: nope

7. Kissed someone and regretted it: never happened

8. Been cheated on: yup in high school

9. Lost someone special: my grandma, great grandpa, and great aunt

10. Been depressed: nearly always

11. Gotten drunk + thrown up: never lol

3 Favorite Colors

12. lime green

13. turquoise 

14. dark purple

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU

15. Made new friends: ALL SORTS I LOVE YALL

16. Fallen out of love: What is love?

17. Laughed until you cried: I seem to do that once a week

18. Found out someone was talking about you: I’m a common topic with my family

19. Met someone who changed you: I met Misha Collins in Cincinnati it was a wonderful experience, and all my new friends.

20. Found out who your friends are: I’m still learning about this

21. Kissed someone on your Facebook page: Does on the cheek count?

GENERAL:

22. how many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: all of them

23. do you have any pets: Smaug Scotty, my cornsnake

24. do you want to change your name: If I changed my name I’d only change my last name to Nottawa due to my great-great-grandfather. Likewise I still have to go through my naming ceremony on Rez so we’ll see lol.

25. what did you do for your last birthday:   My mom went to jail and I picked up the pieces 

26. what time did you wake up: 8:15

27. what were you doing at midnight last night: SLEPT

28. name something you can’t wait for: GISHWES 2017

29. when was the last time you saw your mom: 5 years ago

31. what are you listening to right now: My Prof lol 

32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: Yes my friend Cam’s Husband

33. something that is getting on your nerves: being poor lol

34. most visited website: tumblr.hell

35. hair colour: dark brown (natural) Right now? Red and Black

36. long or short hair: long, nearly to my mid back

37. do you have a crush on someone: yes

38. what do you like about yourself: Very little lolol

39. piercings: ears 

40. blood type: no clue

41. nickname: Ringo, Kitt Katt, Kat

42. relationship status: Single

44. pronouns: she/her

45. favourite tv show: STAR TREK TOS, DOCTOR WHO, SHERLOCK

46. tattoos: Snek behind my ear

47. right or left handed: right

48. surgery: none

50. sport: Does Band Count? I’m also a baton twirler

51. vacation: Liverpool, I want to go to Liverpool.... Or Germany, or Australia....

52. pair of trainers: 5 if it means sneakers but i prefer boots and flip flops in the summer

MORE GENERAL

53. eating: My favorite food is BBQ and I’m having Panera later

54. drinking: More Tea than I should probably, and loads of water

55. I’m about to: prep for my quiz

56. waiting for: Someone to love

57. want: To meet all of my friends in one place at a convention

58. get married: maybe, but not probable at this time

59. career: web designer!!!

54. drinking: Rarely if you mean adult beverages, but mostly tea. all the tea. tea in the morning, tea at night. Tea every minute of every day.

WHICH IS BETTER:

60. hugs or kisses: Cuddles AND kisses

61. lips or eyes: i like my eyes the most without makeup, lips the most with makeup, but in a partner? I notice eyes first

62. shorter or taller: I’m taller than most of my friends, but I like it when my partner is taller

63. older or younger: In a partner I like them to be older, in general innocence is bliss and i am often jealous of my younger sibling’s world view

64. nice arms or nice stomach: Physical appearance is nothing to me. WTF let’s not judge people by either! 

65. hookup or relationship: relationship

66. troublemaker or hesitant: I’m always hesitant.

HAVE YOU EVER:

67. kissed a stranger: nope

68. drank hard liquor: Whiskey is good in a mixed drink

69. lost glasses/contact lenses: nope

70. turned someone down: yes

71. sex on the first date: hells no

73. had your heart broken: No

74. been arrested: no

75. cried when someone died: I was broken when my great grandfather died when I was 7, four hours of crying, it was awful

76. fallen for a friend: nope

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

77. yourself: meh

78. miracles: Indeed

79. love at first sight: no, i don’t at all

80. santa claus: traditional Native Americans don’t have a “Santa” I grew up with that traditionally but it’s super European.

81. kiss on the first date: Depends

82. angels: Grandfather Sun for the win, Coyote and Nanabonzo

OTHER:

84. eye colour: hazel, golden hazel

85. favourite movie: The One with the Whales, Really is that seriously something yall didn’t know about me?

#about me #lists #Do the thing #Read if you wish

[d-s-winchester]

Through the Pages

(gif credit to the creators)

Prompt: He found the journal on the train. Pairing: Mishley (aka Misha x Me, aka Misha x Ashley) Word Count: 2828 (and I’m not even sorry) Warnings: None? A/N: This is my entry for Nicole’s (aka @iwantthedean) two prompt challenge. She asked for two prompts to be sent in and then she would choose one for me to write. This is the prompt she chose for me. I wrote this in like two hours and I’m super proud of it. Italics are journal entries. Hope you guys like it! Anyway, feedback for this is awesome! :)

When it came to taking trips back home during short hiatuses from filming Misha always opted to take the train instead of driving. He found the long train rides relaxing and used most of his time sitting there to think. Sometimes he would read or even go over scripts but mostly he spent the hours lost in thought.

 After his most recent relationship ended he was going over what went wrong in his head as the train pulled out of the station. It was yet another breakup in a long string of failed relationships and he was starting to think that maybe he was the problem, especially because he was never the one to end the relationship. He was almost certain that they had all ended because of his crazy work schedule and even though he knew it shouldn’t bother him, it did.

 As the train rolled down the tracks he’d come to the decision that he would just give up on love for a while and focus on work. It seemed like that was all he ever did anyway so the only thing he would really be missing was someone to come home to after a long day. The longer he thought about it the more he realized that was something pretty big to be willing to give up, but it wasn’t like he had much of a choice.

 The train he was on made a few stops throughout the trip and when the train came to a halt at the first stop something fell from the overhead compartment and landed with a thud at his feet. He looked down to see what it was a noticed a small, leather bound, book. He picked it up and upon further inspection noticed that it was a journal. Stamped on the worn black leather in gold writing, situated in the bottom right hand corner, was a name. Ashley.

 He knew he shouldn’t be reading someone else’s private thoughts but the neat, cursive, writing he saw adorning the pages as he flipped through it piqued his interest. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to read an entry or two, just to see if he could find out more information about the journal’s owner and find a way to get it back to her safely.

 When the passengers at the station had finished boarding the train and it pulled away from the station he opened the front cover and looked at the first page. There wasn’t much there just a small note stating that the journal belonged to her. He was hoping for an address or phone number or something but there wasn’t anything, so he turned the page and found the first entry.  It was dated July 1st.

 I don’t normally do this, write down my thoughts in journals, but mom thought it would be a good way to chronicle this new adventure. Well, that’s what she called it anyway. I don’t know if I would consider moving across the country for work an adventure, although, most people probably would.

 I honestly don’t know what I’m expecting to happen once I finally reach LA, all I do know is that it’s going to be completely different than Jersey. I haven’t even boarded the plane yet and I’m already homesick. I’m literally twenty minutes from home and I miss it already, how is that even possible?

 Well, my plane is about to board. I guess I’ll write more tomorrow? Maybe? I’m not even sure how long I’ll keep this going. It’s not like anyone is going to read it. Oh well, next time I do decide to jot anything down I’ll be in sunny Los Angeles.

 Not finding what he was looking for and also slightly curious about what it was that Ashley did for a living that required her to move across the country he found himself turning the page to the next entry. It was dated a few days later which lead him to believe that she wasn’t one for writing every day like the first entry had stated. He knew he should shut the book and put it down but he found himself compelled to see what she had written on July 5th.

 This was nothing like I anticipated it being. Who was I kidding, though? Sure doing makeup for Broadway shows and the occasional music video or red carpet event in the city was one thing but why on earth did I ever think doing makeup on a movie set was a good idea? I am in no way as talented as the people I’m working with. I’m starting to think coming out here was a mistake.

 Mom convinced me to tough it out though. I know I have to work my way up and there are still things I need to learn but it’s a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. On the bright side, the crazy hours leave me no time for a social life, which is a good thing. The last thing I need right now is for him to be following me around like a lost puppy. You’d thinking moving across the country would cause your ex to give up. Apparently I was wrong about that one too.

 I mean, why did he have to move out here? There’s nothing here for him and to top it all off he had to move in to my building. Is he serious? Maybe he’ll find someone else while he’s out here. Maybe then he can just move on from me. Honestly, I hope that happens because if I could never see his face again that would be fantastic.

 I’m running late for work. Maybe I’ll write again tomorrow. At this point who knows. These entries are probably going to be very sporadic.

 Misha was so engrossed in Ashley’s life as he continued to read through the pages in the journal that he almost missed his stop. He gathered his things quickly, making sure to keep the journal with him, and made it off the train with seconds to spare before it pulled off again. His apartment wasn’t far from the station and as he walked down the sidewalk, pulling his suitcase behind him, he almost couldn’t wait to get home and continue reading through the journal.

 He walked through the front door of his apartment and set the journal down on his kitchen counter before unpacking his things. He put everything it it’s rightful place and then took a shower, needing to get the feeling of traveling off of him. Once he was showered and dressed he ordered some food and grabbed a beer from the fridge before picking up the journal again. Settling himself in one of the chairs on his balcony, he popped open the beer and opened the journal to the next entry dated September 3rd.

 Things have gotten easier. I’m finding that I love going to work and I don’t dread it nearly as much as before. The cast is so fun and the hours are still crazy but a good kind of crazy.

 Collin still hasn’t left me alone. I’m pretty sure he’s using again. Which is definitely not something I need right now. Even though it’s been a few months he hasn’t found anyone new and it’s becoming a problem. I can’t go five minutes being home without him knocking on my door. I’ve been debating a restraining order, but I doubt it will do any good.

 This is the first night off I’ve had in weeks. Normally I would just spend it inside with a giant glass of wine and catch up on the episode I’ve missed of my favorite shows but that’s not the case tonight. Some of the other girls want to go out for drinks and I decided to go. Why not right?

 Who knows, maybe I’ll meet my prince charming or something. Now that would be an interesting turn of events.

 Misha sat there for hours reading through the journal. He found himself wanting to know more about Ashley. Just through the writing on the pages he found her appealing. She was funny and witty and seemed to be driven when it came to her career. It surprised him that he wanted to punch her jerk off of an ex-boyfriend in the face and as he continued to flip through the pages and read about her life he was suddenly hoping to find an address or phone number not only to get the journal back to her but so he could actually meet her.

 Luck was on his side the next day when he picked up the journal at breakfast to read through with his morning cup of tea. The last entry in the book was dated a few days before and in the margin of the page was a phone number.

 If I don’t write my new home number down somewhere I’ll definitely forget to give it to mom. I’m on my way to meet her in San Francisco. She’s on vacation with my aunts and since I had a few days off I decided it would be easier to meet her instead of making them all come down to LA.

 I don’t have enough room in my apartment to fit all three of them and it would just save us all a ton of money and time if I just got a room in the same hotel as them. It was also her suggestion to take the train instead of trying to make the drive.

 She insisted it would be a much more relaxing way to start my mini-vacation and so far she’s right. I think I needed this, some time away from the hustle and bustle of the city. At least Collin has left me alone for now. It’s been almost a week since he showed up at my apartment unannounced and that’s a record for him.

 I saw a girl leaving his apartment the other day. It’s either his dealer or his new girlfriend. I’m hoping it’s the latter, I may hate the asshole but I don’t want him doing drugs and ending up dead. If it is his new girlfriend I’m happy for him.

 The train is pulling into the station. I’ll write more tomorrow. With mom around she’s going to be forcing me to write every day and document our girls weekend. She’s ridiculous.

 All the following pages were blank. Misha knew she didn’t leave it behind on purpose. It must have fallen out of her bag. He glanced at the phone number in the margin again and picked up his phone. He knew her work schedule was crazy and he was hoping she was home from her trip as he dialed. He wanted to get in touch with her and find a way to get her journal back to her.

 He sat there patiently as the phone continued to ring. It was clear she wasn’t home and decided to take a chance and leave a message when the machine picked up. He gave her his name and mentioned that he’d found her journal on the train and was hoping to give it back to her. After leaving his number he hung up the phone and went on with his day, all the while hoping that she would get back to him quickly.

 When a few days went by without any response from her Misha debating calling her again and the only thing that stopped him from doing so was his friends showing up in town unexpectedly. He never minded when they stopped by and it was a welcome distraction from his thoughts, which he noticed were constantly plagued by Ashley. He found himself wondering what she looked like and what she sounded like. In fact, he spent most of his free time thinking about her.

 “Who’s Ashley?” Jensen asked, picking the journal up off the coffee table.

 “Not sure,” Misha shrugged and sipped his beer; “I found it on the train when I was on my way home. I called the number in it but she hasn’t called me back.”

 “Did you read it?” Jared asked, taking the book from Jensen.

 “Yeah, but only to find out a way to get it back to her.”

 Jared and Jensen exchanged looks, not convinced that Misha was telling the entire truth, but they let the subject drop. For most of the night the journal was forgotten until a few hours later when the phone rang. When Misha saw the number on his screen he suddenly found himself unbelievably nervous.

 “Hello?”

 “Hi, is this Misha?”

 She sounded different than he expected her too. Although now that he thought about it he wasn’t really sure what he was expecting.

 “Uh, yeah. That’s me.”

 “Thank God. I thought I dialed wrong,” she laughed, “you left me a message saying you found my journal?”

 “Yeah, I found it on the train.”

 “I knew I left it there. Are you in LA? Would you be able to meet up tomorrow? I kind of need that back.”

 “Yeah, absolutely. Just name a time and place.”

 They decided on a local café at noon and after she thanked him profusely for keeping the journal safe for her they disconnected the call.

 “That was her, wasn’t it?” Jared asked and Misha nodded.

 “Why do you look so nervous?” Jensen chuckled.

“I’m not nervous,” Misha said, grabbing another beer from the fridge, “why would I be nervous?”

 Jared and Jensen let the subject drop once again and they continued on with their night. They left sometime after midnight and Misha went straight to bed. The next morning he actually was nervous. After showering he spent entirely too much time deciding what to wear and he was almost late to meet Ashley because of it.

 He walked into the café with five minutes to spare. He ordered something to drink and sat down at one of the tables, placing the journal in front of him where she could easily see it, and waited. It was just after twelve when a petite brunette approached his table.

 “Misha?” she asked, adjusting the strap of her purse on her shoulder.

 She was shorter than he thought she’d be. Just by looking at her standing there he knew he had almost a foot on her. He noticed that her makeup was done perfectly as was her hair but he had a feeling that she didn’t go all out like that all the time. In all honesty, he wasn’t expecting her to be so attractive.

 He nodded. “Ashley, I’m assuming?”

 “That’s me,” she smiled and sat down at the table across from him, “I really can’t thank you enough for not just leaving my journal on the train.”

 “Don’t mention it.”

 “Really, what can I do to repay you?”

 He thought about it for a second. He had every intention of telling her he didn’t want anything in return but then a thought occurred to him. He wanted to get to know her, really know her, and not just know what she wrote down on those pages. He knew what he was going to say next could end in disaster but he decided to give it a shot.

 “You don’t have to repay me for anything, really,” he smiled and cleared his throat, “but would you like to have dinner with me?”

 She looked a little taken aback at first and Misha thought he might have over stepped his boundaries, until she smiled.

 “Sure,” she nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, “my schedule is insane, but I’m sure you figured that out since you found my journal.”

 Misha looked at her, shocked, and tried not to let his face show that he was in fact guilty of reading it.

 “It’s ok if you read it,” she laughed, noticing the look of panic on his face, “I would have done the same thing. I’m free tonight for dinner if that works for you.”

 Misha nodded and Ashley pulled a pen out of her purse before grabbing his hand. She wrote down a number and an address before capping the pen and putting it back in her purse.

 “That’s my cell,” she explained, “I’m much easier to reach there. And that’s my address. Pick me up at seven.”

 Before Misha had a chance to respond she was picking the journal up off the table and making her way out of the café. He stared at the writing on his palm, the same writing he’d gotten so accustomed to over the last few days, and smiled. He actually had a chance to get to know the girl behind the pages and he was more than thrilled. Maybe the date that night would be able to change his mind about giving up on love and if it did he had a train ride and a journal to thank for it.

#Misha Collins #Misha #Supernatural #spn #2P1S #misha collins x me #me x misha collins #misha x me #me x misha #mishley #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fan fic #oneshot #one shot #one-shot #misha collins fanfiction #misha collins fan fiction #misha collins fanfic #misha collins fan fic #misha collins oneshot #misha collins one shot #misha collins one-shot #misha fanfiction #misha fan fiction #misha fanfic #misha fan fic #misha oneshot #misha one shot

[burnhampeaches]

answer all emojis!

🐰 That I sleep with a baby bottle and my mum hides the fact that she has a second mum

💗 Everyone in the whole universe! Everyone gets hugs!

🐹 Rowlet and Piplup. Both of them are my favourite birds (Barn Owl and Penguin) ,and they both have my favourite elements (Earth and Water)

🌠 It would be chaotic, but at least everyone will follow my standards and rules

👀 It involved me, my mum, and my grandpa going to the Himalayas. We were hiking through a village, and then my mum fainted and her face hit the rocky ground causing her to get wounds. And then, I woke up.

☀ Fun to talk with @ohwillchampion, relatable @clodplaye, having the same sense of humour @anirudhiyer19992, kind @coldplayfeels, and we both like drawing @wingsofqurdrel. There are loads more but, I’m just lazy to state it all.

😘 She’s kind, she’s cool, she relates to me on a very high level. She’s brilliant, her sense of humour is always on point, she has a beautiful singing voice. She’s my muse, my love, my best friend that I haven’t met yet. She’s my PJ @clodplaye

💁 Nah man, this world has too much hate. We should just try to help others and be kind. No matter if we will risk our precious lives, kindness must reign alongside hate. Everything will and must be balanced.

🌟 My kindness, my doodling skills, I live healthily (I’m bad at this type of thing)

🐾 I’m scared of swimming and dogs. Not sure if I could overcome those two because it makes me scared stiff.

🎁 Anytime I hear Coldplay or Blur’s music, Doctor Who and/or My Little Pony merchandise, and when people compliment my doodles.

💙 People hate me, are jealous of me, pressure me to do things I don’t wanna do, pressure me to not be myself, and controlling me.

😤 Not really. But if you do piss me off and I shout at you, you’d better say sorry to me.

🐇 Berrychamp fanfics, self insert fanfics, adventures in the Land of Dreams, and stuff like that

🌻 No homophobia, no racism, no sexism, more equality over everything. We need equal rights!

🍓 Kill all the bad people in the world, Befriend all my internet friends, Marry anyone who is willing to live forever with me, Kiss anyone who actually loves me.

✈ London I guess? It’s the heart of the world’s economy. Also lots of concerts and conventions are held here. And not to forget I wanna find 221B Baker Street

☕ Just being alone on a rainy day, with good Wifi connection, sufficient food and water, very cool atmosphere, playing Coldplay and Blur on my phone and/or laptop, snuggled in bed with my toy Barn Owl, Nico and my baby bottle that I sleep with, and nobody disturbing me. Also me not giving a s**t about society.

🌸 INTROVERT ALL THE WAY BABY!

💧 Oh I don’t know. If I’m not mistaken, either at a restaurant with my family, or in bed while watching Live 2012

🎵 Oren Lavie’s Her Morning Elegance, Iron and Wine’s The Trapeze Swinger, Wintergatan’s Marble Machine, Owl City’s Hello Seattle, Alt-J’s Taro

⚡ Flight and invisibility. It’s fun to prank people back after they pranked me. Also, I get to fly without the priciness of plane tickets and no one will suspect me.

💛 The internet is your friend, listen to Coldplay, and penpals still exist.

💚 My cousin. She has the life I wanted. She has lots of friends, she lives in London, she’s been to a concert, she has multiples achievements, and she is more popular than me

🙊 My existence, and that one time I shouted at my classmates that I hated one of the teachers

🌺 Indonesian and English (learning Mandarin in school) I’d love to learn Spanish and French (much to my mum’s friend’s dismay)

🍀 The 11th Doctor. I relate to him so much. He is also funny and clumsy, like me.

☁ It’s basically a dream land where all my internet friends are now my IRL friends, my parents are nicer and not so short tempered, me and the family live in London, occasionally famous people and fictional people come around, and Guy Berryman loves my family’s Indonesian dishes. I have different versions of this for different AUs, but it follows the same path.

💜 I already did one I think? It was helping my parents dry my kittens after their bath

🐬 Barn Owls for me! Other than the fact that I love them, they’re cute, deadly, and silent. They also are active at night, like me.

🍄 Long story short, my old Malay teacher used to mock me and tease me with my classmates until I cry. They keep doing that when I get one of the answers wrong. I still have a grudge upheld for him (my old teacher)

😣 My mum telling me to stop being clumsy and not to get so sensitive. There are times where I wanna go to a psychiatrist with my mum and solve my problems there.

🍪 Same as always, a doctor. I wanna get into gynecology. If I can’t, I don’t mind being an illustrator or a game designer.

🍰 Jelly beans, lollipops, milk candy, and chocolate filled with strawberry yogurt ( Y'know? The Ritter Sport chocolates with the pink packaging?)

🍑 Barn Owls, drawing, selkies, Song of the Sea, Coldplay, When Marnie Was There, etc… (Too lazy to list it all)

💘 I cry and have a panic attack

😪 Life and its bad luck

🙀 Nope, Noes, No way Jose

💥 MARMITE IS YUMMY FOR ME DEAL WITH IT! WANNA FIGHT WITH ME MATE?

☔ Yes, and no. Call me a living oxymoron but, we all have different perspectives, no?

😊 Drawing, listening to Coldplay, and hiding under my blanket in bed

🎤 Belinda Carlisle’s Heaven is a Place on Earth

🐝 My clumsiness and laziness. I can try to fix my laziness, but clumsiness is tricky

🎨 EVERYTHING! From my bestie PJ to Berrychamp. Doodling is in my blood

🐻 Procrastination and depression

🌷 INFP. It suits because the descriptions are on point with me

🐶 If I’d choose between The Doctor, Sherlock, and Castiel, I’d pick The Doctor

👑 The members of Coldplay and Blur. They are just a bunch of friends who met during college and decided to make a rock band (also they changed their band names)

🐴 Opinion on life? Yeah it sucks balls. I really wanna do something about it. But hey, we all can’t get what we want.

🍋 VERY EMOTIONAL. SO EMOTIONAL YOU’LL HATE ME FOR IT

📚 I dunno any quotes but I’ll tell you the titles. Secret Daughter (Shilpi Somaya Gowda), Boywatching (Chloe Bennet), and Diary of a Wimpy Kid (Jeff Kinney)

😔 Draw and listen to music. It sorta does

😌 Just do it for the ones you love. In all honesty, I’m not the type of pick myself up person

🌍 Indonesia

🐧 Quiet, Sensitive, Weird

🐵 Uh, no quote changed me (yet)

💭 Nope, but my mum did

💫 Probably Misha Collins. I don’t have any idea

👻 Not really. They are just a part of myths anyways. Call me non religious if you wish but I’m gonna stand on my own ground

🎀 Casual. Simple yet nice

🎬 Kungfu Hustle, Song of the Sea, When Marnie Was There, Kiki’s Delivery Service, The DaVinci Code, Angels and Demons, and lots more…

🍦 Going to Disneyland with my grandparents and aunt

🐼 I would meet all my internet friends. They lit up my life in a way I can’t explain. Believe me, they made me happier than the people I know in real life.

Thank you so much for this Lara! Hope you love it! 😙😘😚

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Deanna Braids Sam’s Hair

Characters: Uncle!Sam x Niece!Deanna, Mommy!Reader, Daddy!Dean (mentioned)

Word Count: 1,176

Warnings: all the Sam fluff here

Summary: You and Dean need a few days for yourselves and you asked Sam to watch his niece which he accepts happily. He needs some time alone with his niece. 

Author’s Note: Sorry for not having a requested fic out. I hope you like this series and if you want to see anything with Dean and Deanna or even her uncles or aunts, let me know! I will be tagging both Dean Beans and the Sam Fam for this one. 

Wanna be a Queen or a Dean Bean or apart of the Sam Fam, all you have to do is ask! If you loved it, tell me why! If you hated it, tell me what I can do better!

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

“Hey, Sam,” You said, popping your head in Sam’s room where he sat at his desk, typing away at his computer. He looked up at you when he heard you call his name. “Look, Dean and I need to go out and we would really appreciate it if you could watch Deanna for us.”

Sam looked at you, thinking about it. He really needed to get done what he was doing on his computer but he barely had time with his niece and wanted to spend more of it with her. Ever since you and Deanna came back to the Bunker, Deanna has been spending time with her dad, just like everyone expected but he wanted some time with his only niece.

“Yeah, sure, I can do that,” Sam said finally, smiling at your relieved look.

“Oh, thank you, Sam. I owe you.” You said, disappearing from his line of view. He frowned and got up, following you out of his room.

“Hey, wait, where do you and Dean need to be?” He asked. You stopped and turned around, giving him a guilty look.

“Look, Dean and I need a break. I love my daughter but she is a handful. Dean and I haven’t had time to ourselves lately. You don’t mind, do you?” You asked, feeling bad for dumping this on him when he could be doing something better than watching a seven-year-old.

Sam looked at you and noticed bags under your eyes and your hair a little matted. He knew you could use a few days away from the Bunker and Sam was more than happy to help you out.

“Have fun and get lots of sleep. You look like you need it.” Sam said with a smile. You smiled in relief and walked to Sam, hugging him.

“Thank you so much, Sam. Really, Dean and I owe you one.” You said, pulling away from him. Sam nodded and he smiled, watching you walk off to tell Dean the good news. Sam walked over to his niece’s room, peeking inside. She was playing with her dolls, brushing their hair and playing with it.

“Hey kiddo, looks like it’s going to be me and you for a few days,” Sam said, catching the attention of the little girl. Deanna looked at Sam and smiled, getting up. She walked over to him and grabbed his hand.

“Come on, Uncle Sam,” she said, bringing him into her room. She didn’t even seem fazed by the fact that her mom and dad were leaving for a few days.

“What are we doing?” Sam asked, sitting on Deanna’s bed while watching her gather some things from around her room. Her room was messy, like any kid’s room should be. Dolls and other girl toys littered the ground, taking up most of the space.

Ever since moving into the Bunker, Dean wanted her to be happy always and got her whatever she wanted. While you were living on your own, you did give her toys but money was running low and you had to think of food and rent and the other things she needed before toys. But it was like that all went out the window when you two moved into the Bunker.

“We’re playing hairdresser.” She said, showing him her brush and a pair of fake scissors. Sam chuckled, relaxing when he knew she wouldn’t be able to actually cut his hair with those scissors.

“Do I get to do your hair?’ Sam asked.

“No, I’m the hairdresser, you’re my customer. I’m doing your hair.” Deanna said like it was obvious.

“Oh, right, go ahead, hairdresser.” Sam nodded in agreement. Deanna climbed her bed and she got behind Sam, setting the scissor on the bed. She gathered Sam’s hair in her tiny hands, brushing his hair with her brush.

“So, tell me about your day,” Deanna said, acting like a real hairdresser. Sam smiled and he pretended to be in her little world before getting into character.

“My day was okay. I went for a run and got back home where I’ve spent my day researching.” Sam spoke the truth.

“Research for the monsters?” She asked.

“Research for the monsters.” Sam nodded. Deanna smiled and set the brush down after brushing his hair and started to part it at the top. She started to make a French braid on his hair since his was so long anyway.

“What are you doing up there?” Sam asked, tipping his head back slightly as if he could see what she was doing.

“No! Look straight! You’re going to mess it up,” Deanna said, making Sam put his head back to where it was before. “I am doing a French braid on your hair. You’re going to look so pretty!”

“How do you know how to do a French braid?” Sam asked, not stopping her from doing what she wanted.

“I do it to mommy’s hair all the time. Your hair is long, not like Daddy’s.” Deanna informed Sam, working the braid down his head.

“Right, silly of me to ask,” Sam said, thinking of something to talk about while she did his hair. “Do you like it here at the Bunker?”

“Yeah! It’s very big and Daddy and I like to play hide and seek. He almost always finds me but I have a hard time finding him sometimes.” She babbled.

“Well, maybe next time, I’ll help you find your dad.” Deanna got to the bottom of his hair and moved the braid to around his neck so he could hold it.

“Hold it for me please,” She commanded and Sam did as he was told to. She jumped off the bed and ran to her dresser, getting out one of her tiny elastic bands that were meant to hold braids together. Not those big elastics, but something tiny and rubbery. She ran back to her bed and jumped on it, grabbed the braid from Sam’s fingers. She tied it quickly around his hair and beamed at her work.

“There! It’s done!” She said proudly, getting off the bed to give Sam a mirror to look at her masterpiece. Sam grabbed the mirror and he chuckled at the braid she created. She did better than he thought she would. Suddenly, she started giggling and Sam looked at her.

“Why are you laughing?” He asked.

“You look like a girl.” Deanna beamed, covering her mouth as she continued to giggle.

“Oh, I look like a girl?” Sam grinned, a mischievous look in his eyes. He dropped the mirror on her bed and grabbed her, lifting her as he tickled her. She squealed out in laughter, trying to squirm out of his arms.

“Yeah! You look like a girl!” She gasped out in short breaths, laughing as Sam kept tormenting her. He smiled and took a good look at the happiness on her face. He never thought he would have a niece he could protect but he loved Deanna with all his heart. Dean is a lucky man with a daughter like Deanna.

The Queens:

@mogaruke @whit85-blog @inlovewithbja @spn67-sister @kdfrqqg  @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes  @roxyspearing @mishamigose  @cobrakai1967 @essie1876 @crispychrissy @laqueus-ludovicus @nostalgic-uncertainty @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel  @potterhead1265  @starswirlblitz  @untitled39887 @ta-n-ja @notnaturalanahi  @tahbehonest @stay-in--place @posiemax @donnaintx  @vonthesupernaturalwriter  @alexandriajanae4 @li-ssu  @just-another-winchester  @obsessivecompulsivespn @emoryhemsworth @newtospnfandom @mizzezm @goldenolaf25 @jessikared97  @wh1sp3r1ng-impala @charliebradbury1104  @becs-bunker  @atc74 @theshaychronicals  @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @lady-lebkuchen  @kristaparadowski  @alex-zeppelin

The Dean Beans:

@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @winchesterandpie @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @carribear31 @dont-you-dare-say-misha @oreosatmidnight @not-naturalfangirl @missselinakitty @iam-a-cutiepie @kristendanwayne @milo-winchester-4ever @jensenackesl  @codyshany316 @pheonyxstorm  @helllonearth  @juniorhuntersam @pouterpufftrain  @ruprecht0420  @carriemichelle2012 @aubreystilinski  @sandlee44  @gucci-leto  @posiemax @whimsicalrobots

The Sam Fam: 

@serenity-sam @xxno-wayxx @saxxxology @lokis-queendrivesa67impala

#supernatural fanfiction #Daddy!Dean #daddy!dean winchester #daddy!dean x mommy!reader #uncle!sam #uncle!sam x niece!deanna #spn fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #sam fic #sam fanfiction #sam fluff #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fiction #spn fic #spn fanfic #spn fan fic #spn fluff #supernatural #Supernatural Fan Fiction #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #Supernatural Fiction