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glorystark · 11 days

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Empty eyes | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean doesn't take Charlie's death too well and because of the Mark of Cain affecting him, he tells you things that will regret.

Warnings: moc!Dean Winchester, Dean being a dick, minor mentions of injury, swearing, ANGST, major character's death

Pairing: Dean Winchester × reader

Featuring: Sam Winchester

Word count: 2,3k

We watched in agony as Charlie's body, wrapped around a white sheet, burned in the flames. This should never have happened to her kind soul. She died so we could save Dean. I couldn't help but feel guilty; my heart ached because I lost a friend, again. I knew Sam felt the same. We both asked Charlie for help with the Book of the Damned, and we both lied to Dean about the book being destroyed. Now it was too late to make things right. Memories flashed through my eyes, making me tear up. I remembered when she helped us with the Dick situation, or when I taught her some hunter-kind-of-tricks. How happy she was and wouldn't stop thanking me. She didn't deserve this, anyone but her.

“Charlie,” Sam started, grabbing my and probably Dean's attention. “We are gonna miss you. You're the best.” He stopped when his voice cracked, and now I was sure he felt far worse than me because looking back, he suggested not telling Dean about the Book of the Damned not being destroyed, which I didn't agree with at first. But seeing Dean, my Dean, slowly fade away right in front of my eyes changed my opinion. Maybe it was selfish, me and Sam both were. But we couldn't let Dean become something he fears, a Monster. We couldn't lose another person, another family member, but we didn't realize who we were putting in danger on this path.

“We love you, Charlie, and I'm so sorry,” I said, blinking through tears.

“Shut up,” Dean said coldly, making Sam and me look at him. “You got her killed. You don't get to apologize.” He continued.

“Dean-“ Sam started, but Dean cut him off.

“You too, you two are the reason she is dead,” he said, not taking his eyes off the flames.

“We were trying to help you,” I said, still looking at him.

“I didn't need help,” he said bitterly. "I told you to leave it alone.”

“What were we supposed to do, just watch you die?” Sam asked, not letting me be the only one receiving the cold tone from his older brother.

“The mark isn't gonna kill me.”

“Maybe not, but when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore,” I stated. “Dean, you're all we got. So of course we were gonna fight for you because that's what we do,” I said softly.

“Yeah, she's right, we had a shot-“ Sam was cut off again by Dean.

“Yeah, you had a shot. Charlie is dead.” He finally turned his head to look at me and his brother, who was standing next to me. His dark emerald eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't recognize them. Never have I ever seen him look at me with those eyes. Because no matter how much crap we went through, he always made sure I was fine, and his eyes held nothing but sweetness and, on most occasions, worry. “Nice shot.”

“Are you even listening to me? You think I'm ever gonna forgive myself for that?!” I snapped, not being able to keep my voice down anymore. He is grieving, but so am I. If I could, I would trade places with her.

“You know what I think,” he started, still with the same voice tone. “I think it should be you up there and not her.”

I felt my heart break for the hundredth time today. I parted my lips, not taking my teary eyes off him, which clearly showed how hurt I was. Sam let out a small gasp and widened his eyes after he heard Dean's words, clearly not expecting his brother to go that far.

I knew he blamed me, probably even more than Sam. But knowing that he wanted me dead hurt more than any physical torture I've experienced.

Sam called his name, still shocked after what he heard, but his brother just walked away, breaking my heart more and more.

—————

It has been a week since I lost Charlie, since I lost my Dean. He has been searching for the Stynes ever since but has been having a bit of trouble finding their location. So meanwhile, he went on a few solo hunts. He hasn't said a word to me and to Sam, just a few like ‘buy some beers’ ‘did you find anything about the Stynes’.

He found another hunt for today and was packing his bag in his own room. We both haven't stepped in our shared room ever since the accident, which meant we weren't even sleeping on the same bed. I'm done with being ignored, so I knocked on his door and opened it without waiting for any response. He didn't even turn around, probably knowing it was me.

“Dean,” I called his name, not even knowing what I wanna talk about, but getting him to look at me was the first step. “Dean,” I called, this time louder, and when he still didn't turn around, I walked towards him and grabbed his arm. “Alright, I'm done. When will you finally stop ignoring me?!”

He looked at my hand, which was grabbing his arm, and slowly turned around, finally looking at my face. “I'm not ignoring you, I just don't want to talk to you or be near you,” he said bitterly, pulling his arm away and reaching for his door.

“Dean, you know you're not the only one who lost someone, okay? And believe me, I know it's my fault she's gone, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But, god, you're practically killing me. I miss you,” I said desperately, waiting for something in his eyes to change, waiting for him to embrace me in his strong arms, but... Nothing. His eyes didn't even hold hatred anymore, just emptiness.

“I don't know what you expect me to say, ‘I'm sorry you were so stupid’ ‘I'm sorry you got another person killed off’ ‘I'm sorry you're so fucking useless’ Huh?! Is that what you want me to say? You want me to feel sorry for you?!” he yelled, showing the anger and darkness in his eyes while he harshly slammed me to the wall, making me whimper slightly. His words cut deep into my skin, but I tried my best to ignore them, knowing this Dean wasn't really my Dean.

“I want you to understand, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I want you to tell me that we're gonna go through this like we always do,” I said softly, looking deeply into his eyes, trying to crack him.

He let out a dark chuckle and grasped my shoulders, lowering his head to be on the same height level with me. “You want me to tell you that we're gonna go through this? Well, baby, in that way, I'd be a big liar.”

“Dean, me and Sam, we are so close to saving you. Please, just don't let the mark control you,” I begged, feeling small under his touch.

“I don't want nor need you two saving me, and believe me, at this very moment, I'm trying to not let the mark control me, so don't provoke me,” he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"I thought you trusted me.”

“Well, that trust was destroyed when you got someone who was like a sister to me killed. Have you ever noticed how many innocent people died because you were being too stupid?” he said harshly.

"We all have made mistakes, Dean," I said, as I thought about the hunts where innocent people died, and I couldn't save them. I didn't want Dean to know how much his words were affecting me, but, god, I felt like a crumpled paper.

“Seems like that's the only thing you ever do,” he smirked, letting his eyes fall on the floor again before looking up at my eyes again. “Tell me, how does it feel knowing you don't mean anything to anybody and you're just a burden in our lives? How does it feel knowing nobody loves you?”

That's it. That was the punch line to make me break into tears.

“Y-you love me, you said that before.”

“You know I lie to get laid,” he said, smirking, proud of his response.

My heart was racing more and more, and I felt nauseous.

“Dean, please-“

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing!” he grabbed my cheeks harshly. “Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.” he said, spitting the words out before letting me go. He took his bag and walked out of the room, not even glancing at me. I slid down the wall as I started sobbing silently.

Then I heard a buzz from my phone.

New message from Sammy:

“Y/N, Dean just said he found a hunt, probably three to four werewolves, and he told me to go with him. I was really surprised but didn't question him. I think he's getting better. I'll also talk to him on the road. Next time, he'll definitely ask you too, just like old times. Don't stay up and don't worry; we got this :) love you.”

He asked Sam to go, but not me. If he hadn't told me that he hated me a few minutes ago, I'd think he was worried. But if it was really 3 or 4 werewolves, there's nothing to be worried about. He just wants to stay away from me. He told me I was a burden to them; he'll probably throw me out of the bunker soon.

Dark thoughts ran through my mind, and suddenly a rush of anxiety ran through me. What if there were more than a few werewolves? What if they get hurt? What if Dean hates me even more?

I checked Sam's message again and saw that he sent me the address of where the werewolves' location is and where the hunt would probably take place. I quickly rushed to my room, grabbed my car keys, and went to drive to the location.

—————

I was hiding behind some of the trees in the forest, watching as each of the boys fought one werewolf, two already dead ones on the floor.

Everything seemed good so far; I mean, their guns were on the floor, but they were fighting each werewolf single handed and there was no need for me to make my presence known. The boys were winning as always. And that's when I realized they don't really need me in their life. I knew the words that came out of Dean's mouth tonight weren't really Dean's, my Dean. But he was somehow right; before I became the hunter I am today, I made many mistakes. Some were small, and some led to people getting hurt or even killed. I also put their lives in danger multiple times because I was being reckless. Finding the demons that killed my parents blinded my vision. I was ready to get back to the bunker when I saw both of the werewolves giving up until I noticed something.

A werewolf close to Sam's back, and it seemed like none of the brothers noticed him. I searched for my gun but remembered I forgot it in the backseat of my car. I cursed under my breath and did the only thing possible right now to save Sam. I couldn't let Dean lose another person, especially his brother, who I knew meant the world to him. I couldn't put him through something like that again when there's a chance to save the younger Winchester.

So I ran towards Sam, trying my best to not slip because of the woods on the floor. The Werewolf was close, and nobody noticed him. I'm not the only stupid one after all. The boys turned their heads to me for a slight second, surprised at my presence, but didn't stop fighting the other werewolves.

Until I pushed Sam away from the werewolf he was fighting onto the floor. He seemed confused at first, until he saw it. I assumed Dean did too but couldn't be too sure since he was behind me. I let out an agonizing scream when the werewolf grazed his claws into my stomach and the other one, which Sam was fighting before, grazed his claws into my back before my lifeless body fell on the floor. Dean didn't hesitate more seconds before getting his gun from the floor and shooting all the werewolves.

I was bleeding like a waterfall from my body and my mouth. But the good thing is-

I didn't feel any pain, or anything in that matter…

Dean Winchester’s Pov:

No no no.

This can't be happening.

It's all a nightmare, just another stupid nightmare.

I heard Sam's crying voice telling the love of my life, his best friend, to wake up, holding her torn apart body in his arms, asking her why she pushed him away. But there was no answer.

It's a nightmare happening in real life.

Her beautiful y/e/c are open but so empty, unrecognizable.

I stood over her body, not being able to move from my spot.

There is so much blood everywhere.

Her blood.

This is hell.

No, I’ve been to hell and it's worse than hell.

I started tearing up more and more, reality hitting me more every second.

I let out an angry scream and fell on my knees when I remembered my last words to her.

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing! Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.”

She wasn't nothing, she was my everything.

She mattered, she was the reason I kept going, now she's gone and it's all my fault.

All my fault.

All of the words I said came back to me, making my chest hurt.

As I knelt beside her lifeless body, surrounded by the aftermath of our shattered world, I whisper into the silent abyss, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

And deep down I felt the Mark laughing…

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mimeo-tan · 1 month

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Winged Messenger (Vanaki)

I had for wanted to make a moc inspired by @bioniclechicken 's Winged Member designs for such a long time. The way they incorporate Piraka Spines into their torsos is so cool! Of course, this was made in Stud.io, so there's no way to get the spines on here...

And, here's a lil sketch i did while planning out the build! Funky little fellow...

#bionicle #winged female member #bionicle moc #lego #order of mata nui #works #- io

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lostgirl677 · 7 months

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Nothing can stop me from loving you part.2

MoC!Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Platonic!Sam Winchester x PlatonicFem!Reader

Established relationship

Masterlist

Part.1

A few weeks had passed, and I could tell Sam was as on edge as I was. He even convinced some douchebag to seal a deal with a crossroad demon to try to catch the red-eyed asshole. But all he managed to get was an arm in a sling. On my side, I contacted every hunter we knew around the country to try to gather information. But it was mostly useless. It was a race against time, and we were obviously losing. We knew that Crowley wasn’t alone in this. He had a whole crew of assholes with him. I tried to summon Crowley and some of his lackeys, but the assholes never showed up. Even the various tracking spells with Rowena never worked. And to top it all, my dreams were plagued with weird changing images of a bar, cowboy hats and this shitty song “I’m too sexy”. Dean had finally managed to drive me crazy. I was losing my marbles at this point.

Today wasn’t different from the others. If doing research in the hope of finding something useful could finally lead to something, it was mostly infuriating. I took the computer and a selection of books about demon invocation and went to the library. After many hours of leafing through each book, knowledge seemed to pass over my head without ever getting into it. An exasperated sigh escaped my lips as I dropped my head in my hands. “It’s useless. I won’t find anything useful in there.”, I whispered, completely desperate. I stayed in this position for a few minutes, or maybe hours. I couldn’t tell. But if the roles were reversed, Dean would turn the world upside down to find me. He would never surrender. And I loved him way too much to give up that easily. So I raised my head, wiped some stray tears, and tried to do more research.

But reading for the hundredth time the same sentence was a signal that I couldn‘t focus anymore. Instead, my mind decided to wander away from the dusty books. And, even though it was too late to think about it, I couldn’t help but torture myself about the what-ifs. If I had stopped Dean altogether from fighting Metatron in the first place with a spell from Rowena, maybe we wouldn’t be in this crap? Perhaps, if I stayed with Dean as intended that night instead of leaving him alone, I could have stopped Crowley before he ran away with Dean. Well, maybe not stopping him, but at least delaying him a little and trying to get some sense in Dean’s mind. But I couldn’t afford to waste my time with the actions I didn’t do. It was a dangerous spiral that should never be explored. So, in order to regain the handle of the situation, I tried to focus on the things I could control. Which means thinking of the various tactics we could use to find Dean.

After some plotting against Crowley, I decided to phone Cas for the first time since Dean’s death. I was still a bit embarrassed about my cries for help, knowing that I was bothering him with a situation he couldn’t improve. I took a deep breath as I tried to ponder whether I should call him or not. But I already clicked on the phone icon without even thinking. As the phone rang, I secretly hoped to end up on the voicemail. It rang a bit and before I could think of hanging up, I heard his deep voice. “Y/N?” I heard him say, a bit surprised. “Hey, Cas. How are you?” There was a bit of silence before I heard him clear his throat. “It is complicated to manage without my grace. But it is also difficult to repair all the damages Metatron caused but we are working things out. What about you with Dean?”

I hesitated a bit before replying “ Well, it’s pretty hard. He could be anywhere and doing god knows what at the moment. Plus, Sam is acting recklessly now. I’m scared, Cas. I don’t know what to do. " "We’re going to find him, don’t worry. As soon as I’m done with this celestial issue, I’ll come to help you.” I could hear that he was sincere, that he truly loved Dean as much as we did.” Thank you, Cas. Also, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry that I haven't called you since his death.” I wanted to add something else but my voice shattered a bit. “I am not mad at you, Y/N. I understand. And you don’t have to be embarrassed about your distress, it is a normal human feeling in these circumstances. Just know that your cries and prayers weren’t ignored, that they broke my heart and shook me to my core. I am sorry that I was not able to do more.” His voice wavered a bit while saying this. “Take care, Y/N. Call me anytime you need.” “Thank you, Cas. Take care too.” And he hung up the phone.

After the phone call, I decided to busy myself with more research. But again, my mind always ended up circling with the worst-case scenarios, this time. Crowley had a precise reason to revive Dean, and it scared me. And since there was no way Dean could have willingly left with Crowley, there had to be some kind of mind control or something. What if Crowley used Dean to be his personal hitman? What if he used him as a bargain with one of our enemies? Hell he could even use him as a male stripper to gain money! It wasn’t even the worst option there, but everything was possible when Crowley was involved. He could have taken him out of the country, for that matter. He could even have killed him if his project were finalized. It made me close my eyes to repress undesirable tears. Slowly, I pushed the computer away. All of this mess was giving me a killer migraine.

Timeskip

It was late when I heard the front door of the bunker. Sam was going down the stairs, his arms full of files. I immediately rushed to help him. The bags under his eyes became darker than the day before and his hair was messy. He looked so exhausted, just like me. He glanced at me and gently smiled. “Thanks, Y/N.” I smiled too. “No problem. I won’t let you carry everything in your state. Also, I made dinner. I’ll heat it for you if you want.” A warm smile illuminated his face. “Thank you, I’m starving.” We put all the files on the library’s table and made our way to the kitchen. Once inside the room, Sam began to set the table for the both of us and once dinner was warm, we both ate while making small talk. “I’m sure that's how Dean knew you were the one. Super caring and your cooking is heavenly.” His remark warmed my heart and broke it at the same time. “Thank you. I still remember the first time he tasted my pistachio pasta sauce.” Sam laughed. “I thought that he would propose right away. I must admit that your dish was incredible.” There was a pause before he talked again. “I also remember all the pep talks I gave to him to encourage him to make a move. Strangely enough, he can be super smooth with a random girl. But with you? A complete dork. He looked like a middle schooler trying to ask his crush out.” I laughed a little. “Who would have thought, indeed?” But my smile faltered quickly and I almost dropped my fork, no longer hungry. Sam noticed but didn’t say a word. Instead, he just sent me a reassuring smile and the rest of the meal was silent.

The next day, I woke up with a start after an intense dream of a guy kidnapping Sam. That weird guy wanted to kill Dean. Those strange dreams happened almost every night, and I couldn’t understand why. Was it a sort of trauma? I couldn’t understand what it was, but it was becoming scary. As I took in my surroundings, I realized that I had slept again on the floor in the middle of a stack of books and that someone had wrapped a blanket around me. The pain in my back didn’t go unnoticed by my dazed state. I slowly stretched my limbs, trying to not knock over the piles of books. Getting up was rarely this hard. Well, except for those once in a blue moon lazy mornings with Dean…Once I stood on both my feet, I prepared myself for another day of fruitless research.

It was around 10 AM when Rowena crashed into the bunker. She seemed happy this morning, not phased by my surprised expression at all. “I found another spell”, she said as she put a heavy stack of books on the table with a loud thud. “It’s a very ancient one that I will adapt to the modern days.” The spells had failed so many times that I was past the excited state. When she saw my lack of reaction, she added, “Well, dear. I have a wee bit of hope that this spell will work.” I raised an eyebrow and replied, “You said that the last time. And the other times before that one. And I still don’t know where Dean is.” Wow, it came out harsher than I intended to. I knew that she was doing what she could. But I couldn’t help but feel on edge with all the useless magic crap at this point. Even if I knew she was a bit upset, she still had her sassy expression when she replied, “Being a witch is not just looking fabulous and flying on a broomstick, dearie. It’s also doing research and trying spells. That means trials and errors as well.” She was right, of course, but I was desperate for answers. “I’m sorry, Rowena. You’re right. I didn’t have to lash out at you like that.” She just patted my shoulder and threw me a little smile. Unlike the brothers, my relationship with Rowena wasn’t that strained.

“Are you ready to perform?” she asked. Deep down, I wasn’t ready because the sole thought of failing again drove me crazy. But you can’t know until you try, right? So I just replied, “Yeah. Let’s get ready. What do you need for this one?” She looked at a list in her hand and enumerated, “I’ll need candles, a map of the country, something of his, a picture of him and the blood of one of his relatives to do this spell. The rest is provided by your fabulous witch.” She said as she designated herself in an elegant move of hand. “But wait, how will it work? And we don’t even know if they’re still in the country or even this realm.” I finally asked.

She consulted her paper again and told me, “Once everything is in the bowl, I’ll perform the spell. And then, I’ll dip the pendulum in the bowl and place it above the map. The pendulum will find the start of Dean’s journey, which means the location of the bunker and will drip the blood on it. The blood will get absorbed by the map and trace the entire path taken to his final destination. Then you’ll find your loverboy again, dearie.” She then patted my shoulder and added “They’re still in the country, Fergus might be vicious but he sometimes lacks imagination. How can I possibly be related to him?” I looked at her, half hopeful, half desperate and nodded my head. In return, she simply smiled at me. As she began to prepare her improvised altar, I ran as fast as I could in the bunker to find what she needed. I came back with one of his old bracelets, a map, candles and a picture of him next to Baby.

When I arrived, Rowena had set everything and was reading one of the heavy leather-bound books she brought. The moment she noticed me, she lifted her head and sent me a smile. We laid the map on the altar, lit the candles and placed the bracelet and the picture on the large bowl. ”So, everything is in place, I’ll just need...” She didn’t finish her sentence as a loud noise behind us made us jump. Sam just came back. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Rowena. “Hello, Y/N and, uh, Rowena,” he said, visibly surprised. “Well. Hello Samuel. You’re right in time for once.” He seemed a little scared and asked, “Right on time for what?” So I explained, “Rowena found another spell, but to perform it, we’ll need the blood of a relative of Dean.” As he took the information in, he just nodded and asked, “Okay. Do you need just a drop or more?” She gave him an athame and told him. “You’ll have to slice the palm of your left hand and make your blood drip on the bowl. But not until I said the incantation for the third time. It is extremely important. When I use the pendulum, I’ll need you both to chant ‘Orientem Occidentem Septentrionem et Meridiem monstrant viam ab uno absente captam’, okay?” Sam looked at her, then me and nodded again.

Rowena then began the ritual. She breathed deeply before singing her incantation. “Orientem Occidentem Septentrionem et Meridiem monstrant viam ab uno absente captam” she sang in a deep voice. She was moving her hands toward each cardinal point above the bowl. A tingling sensation of electricity in the air made the atmosphere tense. So much so that I could feel the hair at the back of my head rising and goosebumps forming on my arms. I was holding my breath the whole time, anxiety filling my veins. By the way Sam looked everywhere around him, I knew he was as anxious as me. When Rowena reached the third time reciting, Sam sliced his left hand as indicated and as she kept singing.

The lights of the bunker began to flicker, and the bowl produced the noise of something bubbling and thin steam could be seen. I swiftly approached Sam to wrap his hand in a clean cloth. She then plunged her pendulum into the blood, and it began to rotate in search of the bunker. Sam and I began to sing. After a few rotations above the Kansas area, the pendulum finally stopped and touched the map. “Keep singing!” she ordered as she closed her eyes and began to sing with us. The tension in the air increased, making it hard to breathe. Then, it happened. A faint red line was finally forming itself on the map, beginning at the location of the bunker and continuing. It was the first time I felt this hopeful in weeks.

Suddenly, the thin steam erupting from the bowl became thicker. And some lightbulbs around us exploded in a terrible noise. Sam and I both looked at each other. “Uh, Rowena, is it normal?” asked Sam, coughing a little. Rowena kept her eyes closed, “What is it, Samuel?” But before we could say anything, the smoke became thick black in an explosion sound, and the map began to burn almost instantly on the altar. Sam and I immediately tried to stop it from burning. Rowena opened her eyes, completely startled by the sudden commotion. Her eyes widened when she saw what was happening. “No, no, no! It wasn’t supposed to burn!” she screamed as she tried to help us stop the fire. But it was too late. It was almost in ashes. I barely had time to see the red line stopped dead in its tracks to God knows where. It was merely at the frontier of Kansas. To say that I was devastated was an understatement. We were so close! I could see the deception in Sam’s eyes as well.

Everything happened very fast in a short period. So fast that I struggled to process it. It gave me the weird sensation that I was in a dream, that it couldn’t be real. Just like Dean’s death. It was pushing me over the edge. All my repressed feelings came to the surface. The sadness, guilt, grief, and anger suddenly blinded me, “Son of a bitch! What the hell had happened?! It wasn’t supposed to end like an election for the new pope!” I screamed. Rowena had a sorry look in her eyes.”I’m sorry, darling. I guess it means he doesn’t want us to find him. But I’ll keep looking for a new spell.”, she said as she tried to arrange the mess with Sam. I heard her mumbling "Sometimes Fergus makes me hate myself for participating in that orgy back then." Sam then spoke in an hopeful tone, “I heard about a series of weird murders before coming here. It could be linked to Dean.” I simply nodded my head, trying to keep my emotions at bay to not lashing out on someone. I was trembling, and my heartbeat was wild and erratic. I wanted to smash everything around me, but this mess wasn’t anyone’s fault but Crowley’s. So I breathed deeply and began to help them.

Later in the day, I decided to seclude myself in my old room to take a nap. The dream was weird, once again. This time, there was a gorgeous blond woman. She was serving a beer to someone. The next part was Casa Erotica worthy but I couldn’t see who was with her. I woke up instantly. I was going crazy. Somehow, I truly felt like I was spying on her, like it wasn’t a regular dream. I finally fell asleep again but this time, all the dream showed me was the name “Black Spur Bar” and then a map with the name Beulah, North Dakota shining bright. This time, I almost fell off my bed. Maybe it wasn’t just a dream? I had to tell Sam.

I sprinted out of my room, hoping to find Sam in the Bunker. Luckily, I heard him speak to someone in his room. He was at his desk, looking at his computer, taking notes with his phone in hand.” Drew Neely, you say? I’ll check this…” I nearly screamed “Sam, sorry to interrupt you but I think we need to go to Beulah in North Dakota.” With a surprised expression, Sam looked at me and said “Sorry, Cas. Y/N has something to say. I’ll put you on a loudspeaker so you can interact with us. Now, Y/N, will you explain please.”

Part.3 soon

Taglist

@hobby27 @deans-spinster-witch @muhahaha303 @kazsrm67

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athleticperfection1 · 11 months

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Tennessee-Chattanooga Volleyball

#University of Tennessee-Chattanooga #UTC Mocs #volleyball girls #College Volleyball #athlete #female athletes #college athlete #college girl #bikini #athletes in bikinis #SOCON athletes #Girls of the SOCON

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datharlequinoni · 5 months

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Makuta Traadox of the Insurgent faction of the Brotherhood of Makuta. Complete redesign of a pre-existing MOC.

#bionicle #datoni mocs #mocs #bonkles #makuta #she/her #female #traadox #great culling alternate universe #fanfiction

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greencreeper288 · 5 months

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Specs

#bioniclemoc #bionicle #spear #black body #bionicle moc #female #white mask

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spn-fanfic-reblog-writes · 2 years

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Asks Requests Are Open <-New Page

Instructions:

Characters:

Reader (ok to give specifics, such as preferred gender and/or pronouns, injuries, trigger warnings, k!nks, job, etc ; will do my best)

K!nks (I don’t write watersports, scat, underage, incest, canabalism, vore (but vampirism is ok!), blood play ok through biting and knife play only

RPFs: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, and/or Misha Collins (Any ship is OK)

Dean Winchester (other versions: alpha/omega, Angel or Hell Knight/Demon!, MOC!, Endverse!, Dom!/Sub!)

Sam Winchester (other versions: alpha/omega, Soulless!, Dom/Sub!, Samifer!)

Castiel (other versions: Alpha/Omega, Angel, Human!, Dom/Sub!, Casifer!)

Lucifer

Bobby Singer

Sheriff Jody Mills

Sheriff Donna Hanscum

Claire Novak

Kaia Nieves

Alex (Annie)

Rowena MacLeod

Demon Crowley/Fergus MacLeod

Charlie Bradbury

Dorothy Baum

If the character is not listed, please feel free to ask and I will let you know if I feel comfortable writing them. 😊

Options

Genre: Angst, fluff and/or smut. (Sorry, I’m not good at crack.)

Ships: Almost (I do NOT do underage smut or Weirdcest/Wincest)

Plot: Please feel feee to tell me a scenario or any quirks about the reader.

Ok if you want an episode altered.

I will periodically provide prompts but you’re welcome to provide dialogue too.

Gifs are always welcome

Prompts: If you want a prompt, please look at these and let me know which one(s): (Choose 1-2)

A master prompt list

Hurt/Comfort Prompt

Fluff Prompts

Smut prompts

Comments and Feedback are gold!

Graphics: @firefly-graphics

Updated 2023-10-06

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morethanonepage · 2 years

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replacing oscar with cara delevigne in omitb s2 is :/ and ?????

AGREED. I haven't even watched the new episode(s?) yet but when i found out i was pissed. i like Oscar and I like his an Mabel's vibe/story (even though they didn't get nearly enough development) and I'm mad that they apparently got the Kara & James on Supergirl treatment.

#also i've never gotten the cara delevigne thing #like making mabel a wlw is obviously a great/interesting move but #she could do better lmfaoooo #genuinely though i hate it when shows like -- have a MOC as a love interest #totally fail to develop him/his relationship with the female protag #then the audience (already primed to be disinterested in a MOC anyway) doesn't connect with him/the relationship #so the showrunners are like well shrug guess that didn't work/they had no chemistr #bye MOC see u later #omitb

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this-is-me19 · 2 years

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Trying to rewrite a chapter that is basically smut interlaced with plot and instead of making more violent because The Mark, I just made it more fluff. 🤦

@riley-phoenix what is wrong with me? I gotta go rewatch The Mark of Cain arc for inspiration. Ugh.

#spn #supernatural #MOC!dean #smut #writing is hard #writerblr #writer community #female writer #gender fluid writer #fanfic writer #Dean Winchester

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queen-of-deans-booty · 9 months

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His Anchor

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: MoC!Dean, fluff at the end

Request by @jessicalynnann: how about mark of Cain dean and he is an ass to everyone but the reader. He is all fluffy and lovely dovey with the reader and one night he has had enough of her cuteness and just kisses her… maybe she tells him about a book she is reading…

Summary: Dean is affected by the Mark in ways you and Sam don't realize, and he's trying not to let it affect others around him. However, there is only one person who can lift his spirits even when he's shrouded in darkness.

Square Filled: the first blade (2019) for @heavenandhellbingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

Dean sits alone at the library table with just a dim lamp to light the room and a glass of alcohol next to him. He hasn’t been doing good as of late because of the fucking Mark on his arm. It’s a constant reminder of how much he’s got to lose, and it’s taken over his life. He wants the damn thing removed but he’d be putting people in danger if he does. This Mark has already claimed so much of his life that he’s trying to hold onto whatever he has left, refusing to give into it more.

He traces the edge of the Mark with his index finger and goosebumps crawl up his arm immediately. There’s something raw in the danger that befalls the Mark including the First Blade. He’s used it plenty of times to kill those who deserve it even though it itches for more. The First Blade will never be satisfied with how many kills Dean gives it because there is a purity in how many victims it can claim.

Including himself. In the end, he’ll fall victim to his own blade. Would he die? Would the Mark allow him the sweet relief of death?

“Hey, you alright? Why is it so dark in here?”

Dean is pulled from his thoughts and looks up at his brother who has entered the room.

“What do you want?” Dean asks and turns the brightness up on the lamp.

“I might have found a lead on Metatron. He’s the only one that’s gonna have information on the Mark.”

Dean is so sick and tired of hearing how his brother found a lead only for that lead to turn up dead. He’s been led on by hope far too many times only for it to bite him in the ass later.

“Sammy, how many times do I have to tell you? Stop looking for the cure. It’s pointless if it means a lot of people are gonna be hurt in the process.”

“I know but this time is different. Listen to this. Rowena is a really old witch. She comes from the same kind of magic as the Mark, so I figure if we can get to Metatron, then--”

Dean slams his glass onto the table, shattering it to pieces. His hand bleeds but he doesn’t care about that. Sam jumps at the sudden noise and stares at his brother with uncertainty in his eyes.

“Don’t make me smack you.”

Sam’s shoulders sag in defeat.

“Fine. Whatever.”

The younger brother leaves to investigate this on his own. If Dean isn’t gonna help him then he’ll do everything himself. Dean knows he will never give up because that’s not what they do. If it were Sam who took this Mark on, then Dean would be the same way. Dean shakes his head and grabs another glass from the small cart by the table and pours himself another drink. He has bigger things to worry about than the Mark like Rowena, Cain, the Book of the Damned, and just about every fucking thing in his life.

You walk into the library with a book in your hand and Dean’s mood becomes ten times better. Everything in his life is fucked up but you. You’re the light in all this darkness and he’s so scared you’ll end up hurt because of him. You look up and smile when you see Dean but the smile is lost when you see the pieces of glass on the table.

“Hey, where’s Sam?” you ask.

“Doing nerdy things,” Dean shrugs.

“Okay, can I talk to you about this book I just finished? Like I need to tell someone.”

“Sure,” he chuckles and welcomes the distraction.

“Okay,” you rush to the table and sit next to him, “so the main character, Alana, works at this big company that everyone knows about and she feels trapped doing the same shit every single day. She wants to be doing more with her life but doesn’t know where to start or what she should be doing. That is, until the CEO of the company, Marcel started doing some shady shit. She tries to find out what he’s been up to, and it turns out that he’s making this serum that will make him rule the universe or some shit like that. She’s like hell no so she tries to foil his plans but ends up as his test subject! She tries to escape him but he ended up giving her the serum since he needed a human subject. This whole big fight happens between them but I was not expecting that turn of events!”

Dean isn’t paying attention to a goddamn word you’re saying. You’re so passionate and happy about this book you’re reading that he’s focused on your smile, the way your eyes light up, and how you can’t sit still. You give him joy like no other. How did he ever cope before he met you?

“Are you even listening to me? Why are you staring at me like that?” you ask.

Dean can’t help but grab your chair and pull you closer to him. He slides his big hands into your hair and plants his lips on your impulsively. You haven’t felt his lips in over a year since he kissed you when he was ass-backward drunk. You thought he never brought it up because he was drunk, but he didn’t want the one good thing in his life to go away if he confessed how he felt about you.

He pulls away from you and watches as your mouth opens and closes like you don’t know what to do. Your cheeks heat up in nervousness because you were not expecting that at all.

“Oh, okay,” you stutter.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I’m glad I found you and not Sam.”

“So, how did Alana escape Marcel?”

Just like that, you’re back to passionately talking about your book. You’re the only thing anchoring him down and keeping him sane, and he needs a bit of that right now.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dena winchester fiction #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fan fic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fiction #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fluff #supernatural angst

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elumish · 4 months

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A similar list of questions for writing gay/bi/pan male characters:

Do the characters reproduce heteronormative stereotypes (e.g., the man who bottoms is smaller, more submissive, more sensitive/emotional)?

When writing a mixed-race couple, do I default to the MOC (or man with darker skin) being the sexual aggressor and/or top?

Are there personality traits I assign to them because they are gay/bi/pan?

Are they more sexually suggestive or aggressive than their straight counterparts?

Do they exist primarily to be the Gay Best Friend/cheerleader for other (likely female) characters?

Is their role primarily to help other people figure out their own sexuality/gender/life?

Does the character exist primarily to prove another character's tolerance and/or their bigotry?

#representation #gay characters #queer characters

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konigbabe-interact · 1 year

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drinking game gone wrong

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Word count: 3.6k

Tags/warnings: no y/n; smut; oral sex; fingering; top!dean; MOC dean; p-in-v sex; drunk sex; cunnilingus; unprotected sex; gendered female reader; gendered female anatomy

Summary: You and Dean give into each other after months of mutual pining with the help of the Mark.

Currently only active as @konigbabe.

The heat radiating between you was undeniable, and you felt yourself getting lost in the moment as you tangled your hands in his hair. His lips met yours in a passionate kiss, the taste of your desire still lingering on his tongue as it explored your mouth. His hands moved to your waist, caressing your curves and igniting a fire that seemed to consume you both.

“No,” Dean bellowed, his voice reverberating off the walls. The room seemed to heat up from the intensity of his anger as he threw a book at the wall, the hard edges creating a sizable dent. "There has to be a way, Cas," he added, the desperation in his tone palpable.

Sam and you exchanged a tired look; this was one of the numerous times Dean erupted in anger within a day. The Mark of Cain was taking its toll on him; it was becoming more challenging to keep his temper in check. You all knew that you had to find a cur. Soon. Before Dean's condition deteriorated even further.

“I am sorry, Dean. I understand how frustrating this must be for you. I know about a grimoire that could possibly contain a spell that could help. I'll do my best to look for it and try to find it as soon as possible, “ with that, Cas disappeared; leaving Dean completely frustrated, Sam and you both at a loss for what the next step should be.

In the end, Sam suggested they call it a night, but the look on Dean's face could have killed him if looks could kill. After a few minutes of tense and uncomfortable silence, it was blatantly apparent that the brothers were in need of some breathing room and a little bit of space between them; especially on Dean’s side.

Sam gazed at you with a hopeful expression, as if hoping for some sort of agreement, yet you offered no response. He nodded solemnly, rose with a heavy breath, and bade his farewell, vanishing from the room. You were left alone with Dean, whose head was already buried in a magical tome, oblivious to the stifling quiet that had descended between you.

Rising from your seat, you ventured to the kitchen, grasping two glasses and a bottle of aged scotch. Returning to Dean, who sat across the table, you placed a full glass before him, filling it with the amber-colored liquor.

Dean looked up from the book, his gaze on the liquor before he shoot you a look of disinterest; then he continued reading it without giving it a second thought.

“M’not interested, we have more important things to do,” he dismissed your offering, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Come on, Dean," you implored, your voice gentle with understanding.

"Just this one night and I promise we'll get back to the research tomorrow. But can't you, just for one night, take a break and enjoy yourself? I'm asking you as a friend, please," you pleaded, your gaze sincere. You could tell he was struggling with his decision, and you gave him the chance to think it through.

Finally, he sighed and took the glass in his hand.

“Just one night," he replied, his voice heavy and weary. He downed the liquor inside and you knew, despite the somberness of the situation, that you had won the battle.

"Just one night. Nothing more," he said and took the glass in his hand, ready to swallow the liquor inside. You stopped him from drinking, looking him in the eye with a knowing smirk, "Just drinking is mundane. What about a game? Spice up the night?"

He paused, considering the suggestion, then set the glass back on the table.

“All right. I'm game. What did you have in mind?” his voice had a slight edge of amusement, a sign of his willingness to go along with the suggestion and make the most of the night.

"Two truths and a lie," you suggested, Dean's eyes crinkling with mirthful delight. He smiled knowingly, his eyes sparkling with mischievousness. "This should be interesting," he said, his baritone voice taking on a more serious tone.

You watched as his expression turned thoughtful, his brow furrowing with concentration as he gathered his thoughts. He leaned forward, the light of the crackling fire reflecting in his eyes as he began to speak.

You could almost feel the anticipation radiating from him as he waited for you to start. He seemed to be studying you as if he could see into your soul. Taking a deep breath, you started, your words filling the space between you with a sense of mystery. Dean remained silent, his face betraying no hints of what he was thinking. As you made your way through the game, the atmosphere in the room slowly shifted, becoming more inviting and intimate.

It was now Dean’s turn, and the expectation weighed heavily in the air. Dean cleared his throat, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“My first truth is that I’m allergic to cats,” he said, “my second is that I have a fear of heights,” the sparkle that shimmered in his gaze was echoed by the bright blue of the ocean. He looked deep into your eyes, the sparkle in his own intensifying, and a feeling of anticipation in the air. Leaning forward, he rested on his elbows as he whispered softly,

“But the third truth I’m not so sure I’m ready to tell you,” he said, his voice soft and inviting.

“What is it?” you asked, feeling the warmth of his presence.

“The third truth is that I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the day we met,” his voice inviting, gaze never leaving yours, “I think it’s time I finally do.”

Your heart raced as Dean's piercing gaze met yours, and his voice, so seductive, only made the tightness in your chest grow.

“Dean, I don’t think that’s the best idea,” you breathed, but the atmosphere around you was charged with electricity. He was devouring you with his eyes and you felt the heat of his breath caress your skin; he inched closer to the table between you, his face dangerously close to yours.

You could feel the anticipation of his lips on yours. Finding yourself leaning in, longing for the kiss you both knew was coming; your brain turning into a cloud of haze. Knowing well enough once you overstep this line, there was no coming back. The liquor heating your chest; warming your heart, you felt the invisible threat pulling you towards the man opposite you.

And at that moment, all that was left was the possibility of what could be, of what you wanted more than anything.

“Dean,” you swallowed. His eyes met yours, dark and piercing, lips curving into a knowing smirk. You wanted him. You wanted to feel his body against yours, his lips on your skin, exploring every inch of you. You wanted to be taken away by his touch, lost in a world of pleasure and desire. You wanted him, and you knew he wanted you, too.

The air around you seemed to hum with electricity, and neither of you moved. The tension was palpable, and you could feel the heat radiating off of his body. Your heart raced and you felt dizzy with anticipation.

Finally, he stepped closer to you, a hand reaching out to brush your cheek. You shivered at the contact, and he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice low and commanding.

You nodded, unable to form the words in your mouth.

“Say it,” Dean repeated himself.

All you could manage was a breathless, "Yes; yes, I want this."

He smiled, and you felt his lips press against yours. The kiss was electric, filled with raw desire.

Desire; spreading through your body like a raging storm. It consumed you; the intensity of it leaving you breathless. You felt it in your core, radiating outward to your fingertips. Every inch of you was alive, awash in passion and yearning. You wanted to be touched, to be loved, to be taken. You wanted to let go and give in to the sweet, sweet bliss of pleasure Dean was offering.

You felt yourself melting into him, lost in the moment. You knew you wouldn't be the same after this.

His hands trailed across your curves, a spark of heat igniting your soul. Your thoughts were a blur, nothing but him consuming your mind as seconds felt like an eternity. The hard, cold material of Dean's mattress pressed against your back, and you felt a primal connection, one that shook you to your core. His hands moved with purpose as they explored your body, the heat of his touch sending waves of pleasure through your veins. The moment felt like a dream, a dream that you never wanted to wake up from. His hands were like a whisper, a silent command to surrender to the pleasure he was giving you. You felt yourself yearning for more, the intensity of the moment making you desperate for his touch. You felt yourself becoming lost in the sensations, a blissful surrender that left you trembling and wanting more.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured against your skin before kissing your neck again. The sensation sent shivers through your body and you couldn't help but moan in delight. He slowly unclipped your bra, revealing your bare breasts to him. Dean wasted no time in taking one of your nipples in his mouth, igniting a flame within your core. Heat radiated from him as he pleasured you in the way he had always wanted to.

You grabbed a hold of his hair, pushing his face further into your body as you gasped for breath. His hands glided down your body, teasing and exploring until he finally found your sweet spot. You moaned louder, your body trembling in pleasure as his fingers worked their magic. You wanted him more than anything, and he wanted you too.

Dean’s touch was electric, sending sparks of desire through your veins as he ran his hands over your curves. Moans filled the room; he moved lower and lower, each touch more heated than the last, tongue dipping in your belly button before his lips met the lines of your pants. His breath was warm on your skin as he unhooked the button of your jeans; hands tugging at the fabric, pulling them off in one swift motion.

You gasped as he kissed your thighs, feeling the warmth of his lips move on your heated flesh. Dean’s fingers moved expertly, exploring every inch of your body with passionate purpose.

His name left your lips in a quiet but desperate whimper, feeling his fingers trace the middle of your soaked underwear, fingers circling your caching nub through your underwear.

“What do you me to do?” Dean's eyes smoldered as he looked up at you from between your quivering thighs, his arms securely tucked beneath you as your heels dug into his back; his words hang in the air, heavy with desire.

“I-, want your tongue,” you exhaled; your breath coming in shallow gasps as you felt his hot breath on your wet core.

“To do what?” he pushed, voice deep and husky, eyes laced with mischief.

A shiver ran down your spine, goosebumps rising on your skin as your hands gripped the fumbled sheets.

“Taste me,” you whispered, a hand coming up to tangle in his hair as you drew his head closer to you.

“With passion,” he murmured against your center, tongue flicking out to tease you. The material of your underwear was dripping with your juices by the time Dean finally took it off. He moved with confidence, and you were lost in it, in him.

A cold breeze hit your soaked pussy before Dean’s tongue laid flat against the whole center, nose brushing against your clit as he devoured you like a man starved. Gasping for air like there was never enough oxygen, he licked and kissed you in slow, gentle circles, his tongue exploring your edges; curiosity taking over him.

Moaning softly into the room with your hand groping his hair for dear life, Dean sucked at your sensitive bud, the scrape of his finger on your inner walls sending a heatwave through you.

He kept up this slow, gentle rhythm for some time, making sure to pay attention to every single reaction of yours; adjusting his technique according to your reactions.

The room was filled with the smell of your arousal as he slipped a finger inside, gently caressing your velvet walls. His breath quickened as he felt your tightness around his finger, his cock pulsing in anticipation of what was to come. He teased and tantalized you, pushing you to the brink of ecstasy; each stroke sending you higher until you were begging for more. Dean obliged, surging inside of you in a powerful wave of pleasure.

“Cum for me, baby,” his words demanded, sending you over the edge.

When you finally peaked, he didn't stop; Dean kept working you through your orgasm, lapping at your juices as you laid in blissful exhaustion.

Dean's lips moved hungrily along your body, sending waves of pleasure through you. His tongue flicked and teased your sensitive flesh, lingering in the areas that made you moan with delight. The heat radiating between you was undeniable, and you felt yourself getting lost in the moment as you tangled your hands in his hair. His lips met yours in a passionate kiss, the taste of your desire still lingering on his tongue as it explored your mouth. His hands moved to your waist, caressing your curves and igniting a fire that seemed to consume you both. You felt his arousal pushing against you as you surrendered to the pleasure of his touch.

You pushed him onto his back, straddling his lap as you pounced on him. He moaned as you pressed your lips to his, tasting the sweet mixture of your desire again. His hands moved up and down your back, sending sparks of heat through you as he deepened the kiss; his hard arousal pressed against you. You finally pulled away, smiling as you looked into his eyes, both of you lost in the moment.

Dean’s hands moved to your hips, gripping them firmly as he moved you against him, the sensations of pleasure overwhelming you. He leaned in again, his lips trailing a path of fire down your neck as he whispered in your ear, “ride me.”

You shivered in response, knowing that this night was going to be filled with pleasure that you’d never felt before; you knew that no matter what happened tonight, it was going to be something you would never forget.

“Want to taste you too,” you murmured as his lips found yours again; you melted into his kiss as he explored your mouth with his tongue.

“Another time,” he said as his lips left yours, “but not tonight.”

Dean looked into your eyes, his gaze penetrating and intense; a rush of desire coursing through your veins. His hands gripping yours, he pulled them up to the neck of his shirt, inviting you to take it off and reveal the sculpted flesh of his torso, the anti-possession tattoo decorating his chest. As the fabric pooled onto the floor, you ran your hands along the contours of his body, eagerly seeking the skin to skin contact. His lips locked with yours, the urgency of his kiss sending heat through your body.

He pulled you aside, eagerly discarding the remaining items of clothing left on his body; his gaze searing into yours as his cock sprang free from its restraints, the head looking achingly engorged as the light reflected off the drop of precum. You could feel your desire for him growing with every passing moment; craving to feel him inside of you.

Something feral, almost instinctive, took over you; carnal impulses compelling you to take a seat atop him, locking his cock between your bodies; your fingers dancing over his length, savoring the slickness of his precum as his lips left a trail of hungry kisses down your neck; it felt animalistic, the two of you, consumed by each other's lust.

His fingers left a scorching, passionate imprint on your skin, like a brand that would never fade away. He made you feel alive and wanted, claiming your body and soul with his passionate touch. You could feel yourself melting under his gaze as he claimed every last inch of you, leaving you longing for more.

“Condom?” he asked, voice thick with desire. You shook your head, feeling a rush of heat flood your cheeks.

“Pill,” you whispered.

Dean chuckled, his eyes smoldering with desire as he let his fingers trace the curves of your hips.

“Good,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “I was hoping you'd say that.”

Bracing your thighs on each side of his hips, you lifted yourself up, hand aligning his cock with your entrance. Your skin prickled with anticipation as you straddled him, the heat between your legs electrifying.

The spongy head of him opening your entrance, welcoming him in as a grunt left his kiss-bruised lips, pressed against your throat. Pausing; savoring the sensation of him for a moment, you stilled before lowering down onto him, feeling every inch of his thickness fill you up.

“Fuck,” he cursed, “your pussy was made for me.”

With your hand on his chest, you could feel Dean's heart pounding against your palm as you stayed seated on his cock, the thick length of him pressing against your womb; and he could feel it too, your heat sucking him in.

Another curse left his lips, “you need to start moving, baby.”

Your body was completely under his demand; moving in a steady rhythm, hips swaying in time with his. You could feel the heat radiating between your bodies, a crescendo of pleasure building as your movements increased in intensity.

Your hips moved in slow circles. Dean’s hands moved from your hips to your lower back, pulling you closer to him. Moans and grunts mixed together, the room’s temperature rising, the explicit sounds of your wetness shamelessly filling the quiet night.

Hands on his thighs, leaning back, Dean’s gaze shifted to the place you were connected; he watched you take him in, your slick walls spread wide to accommodate his size, his cock completely soaked by your wetness as the mix of your arousal dripped on his lap.

Leaning down, you kissed the man deeply, tongues entwining in a passionate embrace as his hands gripped your breasts, fondling and playing with the soft flesh. Arching your back, you pushed to create more friction between your bodies before Dean’s hand moved to your achingly longing nub of nerves, spreading your juices over it while he toyed with it.

His breaths grew heavier, your moans louder as you both moved together in an unstoppable, passionate dance. Your body rocked and writhed as he drove you to the brink of ecstasy, and when he finally let you reach the peak of pleasure, you opened your mouth in a silent scream of pure delight. Dean's touch had been like a drug, and now you were completely addicted.

His hips continued to thrust upwards, riding you through your high as his stare stayed locked on your body; he admired you, devouring every detail of your body with his eyes. The stretch marks on your thighs, the noticeable stab wound on your stomach from the witch hunt you went on a few months ago that he wanted to kiss away, or the small bird tattoo under your right breast that made him want to trace with his tongue. He wanted to remember every part of you, to be able to recall each detail and feel the same desire he did now, if not more.

Dean slowly raised himself up and pulled you into his arms, his lips on yours before you could even take a breath. His tongue caressed your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you eagerly obliged, granting him access to explore your mouth to its fullest. His fingers sought out the curves of your body, exploring and inviting a passionate response from you.

You felt Dean's cock swell inside you as his breath became ragged; knowing he was near, you ground your hips into him, keeping him deep within your walls, reveling in the feeling of his head kissing your insides. The intensity of the sensations was almost too much to bear, but you welcomed it, wanting to feel every inch of him.

The feel of his hot, pulsing cock inside of you made your inner walls quiver with pleasure, a low moan of delight escaping your lips as Dean's thrusts became more erratic and urgent. His head burrowed into your chest, warm breath fanning between your breasts as his hands clutched your hips, pushing himself even deeper into you. His body trembled as his climax neared, his moans intensifying as the waves of pleasure took over. Finally, with a loud grunt, Dean released his hot seed deep inside of you, his trembling body almost collapsing into yours.

Both of you stayed still for a moment as you could feel the cum slowly dripping out, staining Dean’s thighs. Your breathing filled the silence, and then Dean reached out and ran his fingers along the length of your arm, sending shivers of pleasure through your body; his touch gentle.

He pulled you closer, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body as his lips brushed yours softly; it was like a silent understanding - you both knew that everything changed at this moment.

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