princessmisery666-library

[princessmisery666-library]

Just Don't Say You Love Me

Series Info: Dean believes you have a good thing going. When you tell him your moving on, he realizes he needs to reassess the relationship and his life before it’s too late.

Warnings: angst, miscommunication, unrequited love, friends with benefits, implied smut, Dean doesn’t get a happy ending at first, bar fight. 

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

W/C: 13k. 3 Parts.

READ IT NOW: Tumblr // AO3

#dean winchester #angst #fluff #dean winchester x you #you x dean winchester #female reader #reader insert #dean winchester fanfic #spn #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester angst

[princessmisery666-library]

Meeting In The Darkness

Summary: You forgive Dean for what he did when he had black eyes but he can’t forgive himself.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, blood, implied torture, Demon!Dean, MOC!Dean, unresolved angst.

W/C: 2,882.

Pairing: past Dean Winchester x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

READ IT NOW: Tumblr // AO3

#dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester angst #jacklesversebingo23 #dean winchester x you #demon dean #angst #spn #supernatural #spn fic #spn fanfic #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #blood #unresolved angst #dean winchester x reader #reader insert #female reader

[princessmisery666-library]

Wildflowers At Sunset

Summary: Bucky uses an inopportune time to let you know how he feels about you.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: confident reader, Bucky being cocky (that’s a warning), sex work mentioned, prelude to smut, love confession. 

W/C: 1,134.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

READ IT NOW: Tumblr // AO3

#bucky barnes #made up fic titles #bucky barnes x reader #reader x bucky barnes #flirty bucky #marvel #mcu #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #fluff #fun #fluffy fun #mild smut #just a smidge #reader insert

[princessmisery666-library]

Live In My Memory, You'll Always Be There

Summary: Not long after moving to San Diego with your fiancé, Jake, he’s declared missing in action. The Dagger Squad rallies around you as you grieve his loss, and you grow closer to one particular member of the team than you ever imagined.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, character death mentioned, grief, fluff, unexpected love, smut, loss of parents (mentioned).  

W/C: 6.3k - too many to be the drabble it was supposed to be. 

Pairing: Rooster x female reader (you - no use of Y/N, no descriptions of body type or ethnicity). Hangman x female reader.

READ IT NOW: Tumblr // AO3

#top gun maverick #jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #top gun #hangman #rooster #jake 'hangman' seresin #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fiction #top gun fanfic #top gun fandom #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #hangman x reader #rooster x reader #reader insert #smut #fluff #angst #jake seresin fanfic #bradley bradshaw fanfic

[princessmisery666-library]

Please Don't Leave

Summary: Friends to lovers to friends, that can work, right? 

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, fluff, Jensen in his thicc Soldier Boy era (that’s a warning in itself!)

W/C: 4.3k

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki. Small Parts/Mentioned: Karl Urban, Jack Quaid, Gen Padalecki.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

READ IT NOW: Tumblr // AO3

#Jensen Ackles #Solider Boy #RPF #RPF FanFic #RPF fanfiction #Jensen Ackles fic #Jensen Ackles RPF fanfic #fluff #angst #dean winchester #spn #supernatural #Jensen Ackles x Reader #Jensen Ackles x You

[princessmisery666-library]

Flowers Of Fate

Summary: Serendipity, luck, coincidence – call it what you will, but Bradley is sure his parents may have had a hand in his good fortune. 

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff, slight angst, meet-cute. 

W/C: 2.5k

Pairing: Rooster x OFC

READ IT NOW: Tumblr // AO3

#top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw #rooster #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x ofc #original female character #rooster x original female character #rooster fluff #oc fic #tgm #tgm fanfiction #tgm fic #tgm oc #top gun fic

[princessmisery666-library]

Part-time Soulmate

Summary: The lure is stronger than the certainty of heartbreak.

Warnings/Genres etc.: Angst.  

W/C: 1k. 2 parts.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x unnamed female.

READ IT NOW: Tumblr // AO3

#Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester x female reader #supernatural fanfic #song fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #dean winchester #spn #angst #dean winchester angst #cowboys and angels #dustin lynch #music fic #unclaimed love songs #reader insert #dean winchester x reader

[princessmisery666-library]

Fries, Goodbyes & The Rest Of Our Lives

Summary: Being stood up isn’t always a bad thing. 

Warnings/Genre etc.: Fluff, lousy singing. 

W/C: 2k

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

READ IT NOW: Tumblr // A03

#top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fan fiction #rooster fan fic #reader insert #rooster singing #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw fluff #meet cute #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader #rooster x f!reader #rooster x fem!reader #tgm #tgm fanfiction #tgm fic #top gun fic

[princessmisery666-library]

No One's In The Room

Series Summary: Jake and Ryleigh find themselves stranded in a remote location when a mission goes sideways. Injured and dependent on his help, she gets a glimpse of the man beneath the façade of ‘The Terminator’. Once they are rescued, the bubble of their personal Vegas bursts, and Jake struggles with new emotions while Ryleigh hopes he will finally see the man she came to know when no one else is in the room.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, slow burn, cheating mentioned, bad family relationships, friends with benefits, fluff, angst, asshole!Jake.

W/C: 21k. 7 Parts.

Pairing: fwb - Ryleigh x Fanboy, eventual Ryleigh x Hangman, platonic Rooster x Ryleigh.

READ IT NOW: Tumblr // AO3

#jake hangman seresin #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #mickey 'fanboy' garcia #top gun maverick #jake seresin #ofc #jake seresin x ofc #ofc fic #hangman x ofc #fanboy x ofc #friends with benefits #slow burn #oc #TGM #angst #tgm oc #top gun fic #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

[princessmisery666-library]

Beers & Beef Jerky

Summary: Dean’s fantasy may just come true. 

Warnings: smut. 

W/C: 1k

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

READ IT NOW: Tumblr // AO3

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #supernatural #gif request #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x you #smut #reader insert

[princessmisery666-library]

The Right Guy On Paper

Summary: Dean receives unexpected news, and his chosen coping mechanism leads him straight back to you. Part 2 of 3. Part 1 - Just Don't Say You Love Me.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, mentions of cheating. 

W/C: 4,315.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Jody Mills, Mentioned: Sam Winchester. 

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: A bar - An Arrest - Loyalty 

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes remain my own.

A/N: I finally figured out part 3 so here's part 2.

Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

How did he not see this coming? Well, he did, maybe, but not this soon. But still, how could he have not seen it coming, especially after his last encounter with you? It had been written all over your face; you didn’t want a full-blown commitment or declaration of love, but the hope of some kind of promise was there. He’d shot it down immediately, made a hasty retreat, and hadn’t spoken to you in over a month.

It doesn’t make it sting any less. But that’s all it is, a sting, a scratch. It will scab over, and he’ll ignore the itch. At least, that’s what he tries to convince himself of as he pulls up at Jody’s. 

The door opens as he steps onto the porch. It’s Jody, phone to her ear, and an incredulous look turned in his direction. 

“Yeah, he’s here,” she says into the phone. So Dean assumes it’s you checking up on him. “Yeah, will do. Okay. Bye, honey.”

Dean kisses her cheek, perhaps a little too hard, as he crosses the threshold, heading straight for the liquor. 

“Dean…” she starts. 

He ends it immediately, holding a hand up so she can see it over his shoulder. “Don’t.”

He doesn’t see her surrendering gesture, but he hears it in the sigh she releases over the clink of the bottle hitting the glass. He shoots back the whiskey; it's the cheap stuff and burns more than it should. 

He pours another shot, back still turned, but he can feel Jody’s eyes on him, the worry radiating off her. He won’t tell her he’s fine. She’d see right through it.

“Wanna talk about it?”

He laughs, humorless but amused because Jody knows the answer, yet she always asks on the off chance he’ll give her a glimpse of what’s going on in his head. If only he knew himself, maybe he’d share it.

Another blazing shot warms him from the inside.

He pours another and takes a breath, waiting for the flame in his gut to simmer. But it doesn't, and it’s not because of the cheap liquor, so he concedes, taking the bottle and the glass to the chair. “Who is he?”

Jody sits opposite him, smiling softly. “His name’s Luke, nice guy.”

“Luke,” he tests out the name before washing it away, swilling the liquid around his mouth. This time, he lets the wince show, accepting that it's more than the booze. “He’s a cop, right?”

“Yeah,” Jody confirms. 

He smiles, even feels the fondness in it, but the sentiment dies before he finishes his sentence. “She has a type.”

Jody reciprocates the gesture, reaching over to take the glass from him. “Don’t push her out because of this,” she says, “she’s good for you. Some of those broken pieces didn’t seem so broken when you’d been around her. That doesn’t change because you're not sharing a bed anymore. Let her be your friend.” 

“Yeah,” Dean sighs, “maybe.” 

But he knows he will push you away because he doesn’t know how to be your friend. After all, you’ve never been just friends.

It’s too easy and not as entertaining as Dean hoped. He’s been on a bender for a few days now. He told Sam he was just stir-crazy, the monsters haven’t been monster-ing lately, and he needs an outlet. It’s partly true. It’s the lack of killing, plus the news Jody delivered a week ago. More so the latter. 

You and Luke are engaged.

Dean thinks it's too soon; it’s only been two months. But then again, what does he know? Maybe when you know, you know. You're no fool. And you didn’t suffer fools. You wouldn’t commit to something unless you knew it was right for you.

So Dean’s been doing what Dean does best, finding distractions to bury his tumultuous emotions. He was looking for a warm body, but when no one caught his eye, he settled for ridding some suckers of their hard-earned cash. 

He’s up three hundred dollars with double or nothing on the line. Though part of the hustle is to appear drunk, as he finishes his seventh, or maybe it’s his eighth beer - he lost count after shot number four and around bottle five  - he thinks he really should slow down. If only for the fact Sam will have to come collect him and Dean doesn’t want to hear the ‘your-not-twenty-six-anymore’ lecture.

His opponent, David, walks around the table, looking for the best angle to take his shot. It doesn’t matter. Regardless of what he does, Dean’s got him in three moves. Or at least he would if his earlier victim, Jason, wasn’t striding up behind him with a furious look that Dean sees in the mirror hanging on the wall behind the table.

“Hey,” Jason calls, a tenth of a second before he throws a punch that Dean ducks.

Dean spins to face him, standing his ground. He can’t back up out of reach cause he’ll hit the wall and box himself in. “C’mon man,” Dean tries, “don’t be a sore loser.”

Jason is already swinging a second punch that Dean recognizes the poor form would likely break his hand had Dean not sidestepped to avoid it.

Two of Jason’s friends are close by but seem reluctant to back up their buddy, so Dean tries to reason with them as he pivots so Jason has his back to the wall, and Dean can back away. “Come get your friend before he gets hurt.” 

That’s enough to convince them to intervene, but instead of doing the smart thing and removing their friend from further embarrassment, they descend on Dean, and he’s left with no choice. 

He smashes the pool cue into the stomach of the first one. The dude doubles over and falls to his knees. The second man narrowly avoids tripping over him, stumbling towards Dean’s perfectly formed fist, and goes down after a crack of bone and a scream of pain. 

Jason looks down at his fallen comrades, and Dean lifts his brow, challenging him.

“Walk away,” Dean advises. 

He doesn’t.

Dean has to give credit where credit is due. Jason is tougher than his withering friends. He takes three shots to the face and manages to land a good right hook to Dean’s mouth before he drops to the floor, rolling into the fetal position when Dean takes a step forward.

He can’t be sure whether he was going to kick the man while he was down. But he’ll never know because two sets of hands grab his arms.

Dean doesn’t think. He reacts. Twisting his right arm free, he throws a punch as he turns. 

“Okay, you're under arrest…” but it’s too late. His fist connects with the jaw of his captor - a blond cop who still has a hold of him.

Dean’s brain finally registers the uniform and star pinned to his chest, and now he’s really in trouble. “Shit!” He grumbles, holding his hands up as the blood trickles from the cop’s nose.

Dean tells Deputy Callaghan he’s making a mistake and wasting his time hauling Dean to the station. But his suggestion to call Sheriff Mills to get this mess straightened out falls on the deaf ears of the cops in the front of the squad car.

Dean gives up. Jody will have his back, and hopefully, she’s got some leftovers for him at the house. 

“You're gonna feel really stupid when we get in there,” Dean says as Callaghan roughly pulls him from the car. “I’m telling you, Sheriff Mills will have your ass for wasting her time.” 

“That’d be scary,” Callaghan smirks, smug in whatever knowledge he has that Dean doesn’t. “If she wasn’t on a retreat in Milwaukee until Monday.”

“Crap.” 

“Looks like you're our guest until we can get a hold of her, which could be days.”

“Crap.” 

Despite Dean’s lack of resistance, Callaghan makes a point of manhandling him through the station doors. He must want to look tough in front of his buddies and make the dried blood on his shirt look like Dean put up a fight that Callaghan won on account of his being detained.

Dean accepts his fate - for now. He doesn’t want to cause more trouble for Jody to clean up.

But maybe he should have because slipping the cuffs and making a run for it would have been easier than facing you. As soon as the door swings shut, like some kind of magnetic pull, your eyes find him, and you're frozen in place staring at him while some newbie who looks about twelve talks at you.

You hand the clipboard back to the young deputy and march with such purpose toward him he’s expecting a Sam-level lecture, but instead, you look around him. 

Dean’s seen the sneer you unleash on Callaghan before, but there’s an extra layer to it, a venom that spits out with your command, “Uncuff him now.” 

Dean is glad he’s not on the receiving end of your ire, and the station falls quiet. All activity ceases while they watch the show. 

The softness of Callaghan’s voice doesn’t match his words or reasoning tone. Dean can tell this dude knows he’s on thin ice with you and trying to make it right. “You don’t even know what he did.”

“Bar fight at Lloyds. Heard all about it.” 

“He hit me.”

“You're still standing, so it obviously wasn’t hard enough,” you counter, and Dean sniggers, as do some of the other people watching. 

“Y/N,” Callaghan tries again. 

You purse your lips, stubbornness settling in tight. “Release him and get out of my station.” 

Technically, it's not your station, but Dean assumes Jody’s left you in charge while she’s away. He really wants Callaghan to point that out because Dean can see your one smart comment away from adding to the bloody nose Dean gave him.

But you don’t give him a chance to make the mistake of correcting you. “You owe me, Luke, now and forever, so I’m calling in a chip. Release him!”

Silence prevails for a loaded second. Dean turns slightly to look at Luke, jiggling his hands behind his back. “You heard the boss,” he smirks, “I’m a free man.” 

Luke shakes his head and looks back at you. “Whoever he is,” he says, pointing a finger dangerously close to Dean’s face, “he’s trouble.” 

“She can handle it,” Dean counters and winks when Luke finally breaks the stare-down with you.

That’s enough to deflate his bravado a few notches, and he finally turns and leaves, slamming the door open as he goes.

Dean mumbles a thanks while you unlock his new jewelry, suddenly feeling some embarrassment for being arrested. He turns to face you, rubbing at his wrists now that the metal is gone. “Sorry if I’ve caused you any trouble.”

“It’s fine,” you wave him off, “no trouble.”

You stare at one another for a short moment, and he sees how tired you look. He opens his mouth to say it's good to see you despite the circumstances, but before he can utter a syllable, you hold up a finger. 

Leaning around him, you announce, “Shows over,” and the station springs to life again.

“I should get out of your way,” he says, giving a tight smile. 

“Can I give you a ride back to your car?”

He shakes his head, “No, thanks. I’m good. I could use the walk.”

“You got a motel?” 

“Nah, just passing through.” 

“You’re too drunk to drive back to Lebanon.” 

He shrugs, “I’ll find a motel.”

“Here,” you say, fishing in your pocket for a set of keys. “These are for Jody’s. No one’s there. Jody is in Milwaukee, Alex is on vacation with friends, and Clare is hunting in Michigan.”

He makes no move to take them, so you grab his hand and place them on his palm, closing his fingers around them. “I’ve been keeping an eye on the place, but I’m finishing up here and heading up to her cabin. Jody will be back about three tomorrow.” 

“Deputy Dick said she wasn’t back until Monday.”

You roll your eyes, “he lied. He does that.” 

You don’t elaborate, and Dean doesn’t push, but he knows there's a story to be told.

“There’s beer and leftover lasagne in the fridge,” you layer on top of the perks, “and it's closer than the bar. Just sleep it off, please. For me.”

He nods, “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

“Take care, Dean.” 

“You too,” he says. He wants to hug you or kiss your cheek or something, but instead, he stares at his fidgeting hands. “Um…maybe we can grab a drink soon,” he suggests, “it’d be nice to catch up.”

“I’d like that,” you say, and your smile is genuine and kind when he meets your eyes again. “You know where to find me, Winchester. You never needed an invitation. That hasn’t changed.”

He laughs just as someone calls your name, and you excuse yourself. He watches you cross the room to the same deputy you were speaking with earlier. He really has missed you, but the open invitation dulls the ache a little. He’s definitely going to take you up on it.

You haven’t been sleeping well lately. It’s understandable; you’ve been through a lot, so you're surprised that you wake just after eleven to the cheerful, chirping bird song. 

It must be the peacefulness of the forest that surrounds Jody’s cabin that allowed the much-needed rest to extend later than usual. You're grateful that she practically forced the mini-break on you - “You need to get away. Get your head straight. Take a few days.” As you step onto the porch with a steaming mug of coffee and the thickest blanket you can find, you realize she was right. 

This is definitely what you need: nature and some quiet time. No hustle and bustle of a busy town, no traffic noise or drunks snoring logs in the holding cells.

Wrapping the blanket around you, you get a whiff of the cotton-fresh fabric softener and wrap it snugger around you as you sit on the porch swing. 

That’s where you spend the rest of the morning and early afternoon wrapped up in the blanket with a book from Jody’s collection. You brought a healthy supply of food with you, and that's the only decision you need to make today: what to cook for dinner. 

You’re two delicious sips into your third coffee of the day when the quiet is disrupted by the unmistakable growl of Baby’s engine. He’s not speeding, and you haven’t missed any calls, so you don’t think it's an emergency. 

Dean cuts off the engine as he pulls up behind your truck, returning the forest to its quiet tranquility, and steps out of the car with a bright smile.

“Hey,” he greets as he reaches the bottom step. 

“Hey yourself,” you grin, finding his smile endearingly contagious. “Everything okay?”

“Peachy,” he says, “passing through on my way home and wanted to say thanks again.” 

He could have called you from the road, so you know the flimsy excuse is the best he could come up with, but you're not upset that he’s there.

You laugh, “You mean Jody asked you to check up on me?” 

“That too,” he admits with a slight shrug.

You feel the hurt constrict your chest again. Jody’s concern is a reminder of what happened. “She tell you why she wanted you to check up on me?”

“No,” Dean says, climbing the few stairs to stand on the porch. “Doesn’t take a genius, though.” 

“Just a sober hunter.”

“Ow, low blow,” he laughs. 

You laugh with him for a second but cut it off with a deep sigh. He will hear the story sooner or later. It may as well come from you. Closing the book and putting it on the table, you ask, “Can you stay for dinner?” 

He claps his hands and rubs them together, “What’re we having?”

It shouldn’t be as easy as it is to fall back into the familiarity of working together. Dean chops peppers and onions while you put the chicken breasts in the oven. It’s effortless, moving around without getting in each other's way.

You’ve missed it, and from the slight smile that remains while Dean works, you think he feels the same. 

He doesn’t press for information, though you’re sure he’s desperate to know why you're at Jody’s cabin alone and if Luke was/is your Luke owed you big enough to let him go without question.

You wash your hands and move on to making the dough, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Dean. It’s easier to talk that way without the embarrassment of looking at him face-on. Though you know he won’t judge you, you don’t want his pity. Still, you start with an easier question. 

“You have Charlie’s unlimited credit card.” Mixing the ingredients in the bowl, you ask, “So it’s not like you need the money. Why were you hustling people?”

He shrugs. “Needed some entertainment.”

“It work?”

“Yeah, for a minute,” he chuckles, “at least until I got socked in the mouth.”

You see his tongue poke out to lick at the cut on his lip. “Maybe that's what I need.” you wonder, sprinkling flour on the countertop.

“To get clocked in the face?” 

You chuckle along with him. “No, smartass. Some mindless entertainment, forget everything for a while.”

“Like why Luke owes you now and forever?” Dean asks. 

“Nice transition,” you jest. 

“I thought so,” he says, walking to the fridge to grab the cheese along with two beers.

He twists the caps off and tosses them in the trash. He’s started grating the cheese before you decide to tell him what happened. 

“It was good for a while, really good, dreamlike even.” you take a long pull on the beer, and he’s nice enough to keep working, piling grated cheese to the side before continuing to work on the remainder of the block. “But obviously, it was too good to be true. His ex showed up. She’d left him to take a promotion a couple of years ago but decided her career wasn’t all she wanted after all. He made a big show of telling her no and asked me to marry him." The dough takes the brunt of your ire, words punctuated with huffs of breath while you knead it into shape. “He took a demotion to be closer to me. I thought I’d bagged a good one, a real devoted guy. But I was wrong. It didn’t take long for him to cheat.” 

“Glad I clocked him.” 

“Me too.” silence stretches, and you break it by blasting out a long sigh. “I’m such an idiot. I chose the stable guy, the guy that was right on paper. I picked the easy way, and it backfired.”

“That doesn’t make you an idiot.” 

“No?” you question, pausing your work to look at him. He halts his task, too, looking at you fully. “When I found out, I did all the tests, holy water, silver, recited an exorcism ‘cause I didn’t believe he was just a bad guy. If that doesn’t spell out desperate idiot, I don’t know what does.” 

“It doesn’t!” He argues, frustrated that you're talking down about yourself. “But you know what does spell out ‘idiot’? Cheating on someone as awesome as you.”

You cock a small smile, “Thank you.” 

You hold one another's gaze for a long moment. You want to tell him that you would have picked him over Luke, over anyone else, but you know he wouldn’t want to hear it. As if he can read it in your expression, he clears his throat and breaks the loaded stare to turn back to his task.

“C’mon,” Dean says, “Let’s get these pizzas baking and get drunk.” 

The late morning rise must have been a fluke because you can’t sleep. Considering the half bottle of whiskey you drank with Dean, you're surprised by your inability to fall asleep. 

Maybe that’s the cause of your insomnia, too much alcohol in your system, or the fact that it feels weird knowing Dean is sleeping in the room next door, or perhaps the emotional turmoil of the last few weeks is taking its toll. Whatever the reason, the more you try to force it, the further away it seems to get and the angrier you become. After an hour of tossing and turning, you give up.

You need to do something to occupy your mind and decide to bake some cookies. Once in the kitchen, you realize that using a mixer will most likely disturb Dean, who’s just down the corridor. But now that you’re up, you really want cookies and decide to mix them by hand.

The first batch is just starting to rise in the oven when Dean appears, fully dressed but with messy hair and rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Crap, did I wake you?” You ask.

“Nah,” he shakes his head, bleary-eyed, squinting under the brightness of the kitchen lights. “Don’t tell Sam,” he says, “but I’m not twenty-six anymore. Indigestion woke me up.” 

You laugh lightly, “There’s Pepto in the bathroom.”

“Found it,” he tells you, clicking the button on the coffee machine. “Then I smelled cookies, so I came to investigate.” 

“Well, perfect timing. The first batch should be ready by the time the coffee’s done.”

He doesn’t speak while the coffee brews, but you feel his eyes following you. You wonder what he’s thinking but know better than to ask. Maybe you truly don’t want to know. The thought of him pitying you fills you with embarrassment despite knowing Luke’s actions are not a reflection on you.

Dean pours the fresh coffee and adds sugar and a splash of cream to yours, sliding it closer to you while you pull the first batch of cookies from the oven and onto a cooling rack. 

He steals one, “hot, hot, hot,” he hisses, juggling it from one hand to the other. Despite the obvious temperature, he takes a bite, huffing out the heat before it's cool enough to bite down. 

He chews three, four times, hesitates, and chews some more. It’s evident from the face he’s trying, unsuccessfully, to not pull that it’s terrible. 

“It’s awful, right?” you ask with an apologetic scowl.

He nods, grimacing, “Disgusting,” he confirms but starts chewing again as if the taste will improve. 

“Well, don’t eat it!” You scold, laughing, “spit it out!” 

He rushes to the trashcan and spits out the chewed-up wad. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, swiftly walking back to grab his coffee and taking a big gulp. “I was trying to be polite, but yeah, that was not good.” 

You know he’s not being purposefully mean. You’ve never been good at baking, and clearly, eyeballing the ingredients didn’t work, but it still hurts a little. You sigh, watching the cookies slide off the plate and into the trash.

You scoop the second batch of cookie dough onto the spoon and into the trash, “I guess I wouldn’t have made a good wife after all.”

“Don’t say stuff like that,” Dean reprimands. “You’d make an awesome wife.” 

Has he really thought about what kind of wife you would be? Why would he? That was never a possibility for the two of you, so it’s purely a reflex, saying something nice to make you feel better. 

You don’t respond, continuing to tidy the mess you’ve made while Dean steps out of the way, leaning his shoulder against the fridge to watch you.

While your back is turned, he asks, “Is that really what you wanted? To be his wife?”

You shrug, wiping down the countertop with a damp cloth. “I don’t even know anymore.”

“You were so career-driven, always seemed happy in the moment. I never pegged you for the white picket fence type,” he comments, sipping his coffee again.

“I never was.” You laugh without an ounce of humor because he has you dead to rights. How well he knows you always surprises you, which in turn surprises you more because that’s what he does for a living. He has to read people. The same way you do - checking for tells and body language of victims and suspects. Dean knows when he’s being lied to. You know you’d never sneak one past him. Yet he doesn’t seem to understand that he was the one who changed your perspective. He was the one who made you believe there was more to life than a career.

“So it was him then?” he softly asks, as if he’s expecting you to reveal a secret. “He changed your mind, made you want it all?” 

The anger and bitterness swell inside of you. Not just towards Luke for promising you a future and then ripping it away, but at Dean for being oblivious to the fact he’s the reason for the change of perspective.

“It doesn’t matter what changed. It’s over now,” you snap, throwing down the cloth and knocking the neat pile of crumbs you’d made onto the floor. “All of it.”

“Why are you mad at me?” he yells, looking slightly confused and standing straighter. 

“I’m not,” you try to backtrack, though your volume increases. “I’m just mad! Mad at Luke for being an unfaithful asshole, mad at myself for falling for it, mad at the universe for giving me something good and taking it away again. And y’know what? Yeah, I am mad at you, Dean! I’m fucking furious ‘cause you changed my mind. You made me realize I could have it all: a career and partner who understood my commitments, someone who was happy to slot into my life when it worked for both of us, and made me see it could be effortless. I didn’t want any of that until we started our thing.”

“Hey!” he shouts back, “I never said never. I said not right now. Or then or whatever.” 

“Bullshit! You said you couldn’t make any commitments, even without Chuck pulling the strings.” 

“Yeah, I meant I needed a minute to process, figure some stuff out. You said we were good. You didn’t want any ‘awkward conversations’,” he counters with full-on air quotes.

“I didn’t want to scare you off!” 

“And I didn’t want you to run off and meet someone new!”

“Yeah, well, that worked out just fucking great, didn’t it!” The anger simmers, and you hold his eyes until he blurs behind your tears.

Dean blasts out a sigh, “Maybe I should go.” He phrases it as a suggestion, but he’s already tipping the remainder of his coffee into the sink, so obviously, he’s made up his mind. 

“Yeah, maybe you should,” you say, blinking up at the ceiling to stem the tears. “I’m really not in the headspace for this right now.”

You keep your back turned while he shuffles around, going to the bedroom to grab his duffle. 

Why did Jody send him? She was the one who suggested the vacation, and she, of all people, knows how much losing Dean hurt you. You’d confided in Jody about the commitment comment, which had been the catalyst for realizing how deep you’d got with Dean and how much it wasn’t reciprocated.   

A chair momentarily teeters as Dean pulls his coat off the back, but the jingle of his car keys is what pulls you out of your own head. 

Tears suffocated and stalled, you find the courage to turn around, but he’s already at the door. “Dean,” you call. He stops and half turns to face you, but you don’t know what to say. It’s too soon to let yourself be vulnerable with anyone, but you don’t want him to leave, at least not like this. 

You stare at him, hoping he can read the words you can’t find in your expression. 

He breaks eye contact, looking down at his feet. “I’ve, er… I’ve missed you.”

It lifts a weight you weren’t aware you were carrying but brings fresh tears to your eyes. “I’ve missed you too.” 

He drops his bag at the door, crosses the room, and swiftly tugs you into a tight hug. “Call me when you’ve figured all this out,” he requests, and all you can do is nod into his shoulder. He kisses the side of your head and rushes out like a gust of wind.

Part 3 - Just Say You Love Me - Sunday 25th Feb 2024.

Tags info

/ @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @deandreamernp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library  / @lyarr24 / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimal87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @pank0w / @kmc1989/ @deans-spinster-witch / @spnbaby-67 / @roseblue373

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

#dean winchester #spn #supernatural #jacklesversebingo23 #dean winchester x reader #female reader #reader insert #dean winchester angst #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #angst #supernatural fandom #dean winchester x you #you x dean winchester

[princessmisery666-library]

Coin Toss

Bingo:@jacklesversebingo Prompt: Coin Toss 

A/N: the muses are AWOL but I liked this little idea so ran with it and made the title card. 

Images: Canva and Entertainment Weekly.

You and Dean can't decide where to go during some rare downtime. Vegas is good for hustling people and mindless entertainment. Or there's the cabin; secluded, cozy and far enough away from the real world you can pretend it doesn't exist for a while.

Regardless of where you go, Dean is driving and picking the music, obviously. 

Dean flips the coin, you call out heads for the cabin. Honestly, he doesn't care where you go, as long as he's with you, tucked up under his arm while he drives, feeding him snacks, stealing kisses when the road permits, he'll happily go anywhere with you.

Master Lists: Main / Dean Winchester / JAcklesVerse Bingo

Tags below the cut:

@alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r-blog / @deandreamernp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @lyarr24 / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimallina87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @pank0w / @kmc1989/ @deans-spinster-witch / @spnbaby-67 / @roseblue373

#jacklesversebingo23 #dean winchester #spn #moodboard #jensen ackles #autumm #this or that #cozy #coin toss #fluff #aesthetic

[princessmisery666-library]

For make up title game: "I Would Do Anything For Love.... Including That"

Rick Flag x Reader.

Not beta’d. posted from my phone sorry if formatting is off.

You're pouting, full on toddler pouting because you think it will help sway Rick’s decision.

Rick knows he’s going to agree, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you, including what you’ve asked of him, despite the shit he knows he’ll get from Task Force X. But it will be worth every joke he receives because he likes the way you beg. The imploring tone you use, pressing your body against his, running your hands up and down the exposed skin of his arm, lips ghosting over the shell of his ear. It sets him ablaze and he has to swallow down a groan.

If that weren’t enough to make him agree he especially loves that in order to get what you want you bribe him, offering him something he wants in exchange for something he’d do for free because he just wants to spend time with you.

“So I wear this to the movies?” Examining the multicoloured hoodie, “and you’ll come to the weapons seminar with me?” He asks, setting out the deal.

“Yes,” you say, looking up at him from under your lashes. “I promise.”

He’s getting the better half of the deal, spending eight hours giving lectures to rent a cops and then spending his evenings with you in exchange for him wearing a piece of clothing and sitting through a movie.

He sighs, faking that it’s an inconvenience but it’s really not. “Fine.”

“Yay,” you squeal, jumping up and kissing his cheek, “you're the best.” You skip toward the locker room, excitement not allowing you to keep your feet on the ground.

Rick watches you go, sighing sadly this time, “I love you.”

Though he’s not sure you haven’t already figured it out, maybe he’ll find the courage to tell you that soon. For now he’ll keep showing you, the best way he knows how.

Made up fic titles.

#rick flag #made up fic titles #colonel rick flag x reader #rick flag x reader #colonel rick flag #dc #drabble #rick flag drabble #fluff #angst

[princessmisery666-library]

Sam Is Wearing Green Today

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff. 

W/C: 450

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester.  

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader (you - no descriptions of gender, body type, or ethnicity).

A/N: I had a dream that I shared with @deanwinchesterswitch , and she encouraged me to write it out, so here it is - purely self-indulgent fluffy Sam appreciation.

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch

Graphics: dividers @firefly-graphics

Master Lists: Sam Winchester // All The Fandoms

Sam Is Wearing Green Today.

Sam’s wearing a green plaid shirt today. It’s distracting. You're supposed to be listening to Dean and the theory of what creature you're hunting. But it's all white noise because Sam is wearing green today. 

If you were more poetic, you could have described how it made his kaleidoscope eyes brighter. You could have likened it to a forest of evergreens, alive and fresh, or Autumn nipping at Summer’s nose, tingeing the edges of green leaves with brown. But you can’t find the perfect description because Sam is wearing green today. 

Your nose is stuck in a book, but your eyes are locked on Sam. The white noise fades, and his voice comes into focus while he counters Dean’s theory and offers his own. You also have a theory, a mixture of both being correct. But you can’t voice it because Sam is weaning green today.

Dean’s phone rings, and he steps away from the table to answer it. Sam glances over at you, and though you know you’re staring, you're unable to look away. He offers the softest smile as he stands, probably feeling extremely uncomfortable under your watchful eye. But you can’t stop your ogling because Sam is wearing green today. 

You follow his movement as he walks to refill his coffee mug, going as far as turning your head to look over your shoulder to keep your gaze trained on him. The shirt looks soft, and you're momentarily jealous that it gets to caress his skin all day. Does it know how lucky it is? You chuckle to yourself at how ridiculous the thought is. But it makes total sense because Sam is wearing green today.  

Fresh cup of joe in hand, he turns back around, his eyes immediately landing on you. “Why are you staring at me?” he asks, self-consciousness dusting his cheeks. It was never your intention to make him feel uncomfortable. But you can’t tell him that you can’t take your eyes off him because he’s wearing green today.

You shrug and give an unconvincing lie, “No reason,” even though it’s clearly causing him concern. You make no attempt to stop your peculiar behaviour because Sam is wearing green today. 

Sam’s chuckle morphs into a bashful dimpled smile as he approaches you slowly, never taking his eyes off of yours.  “I love you too.” He bends and kisses you, firm but sweet. He lingers against your lips for a long moment before pulling back to focus on you again, “Now I know why you haven’t stolen this shirt.”

He’s right. You left that one because it’s always a treat when Sam is wearing green. 

A/N2: if anyone has any good pictures of Sam/Jared in green please share 🥰

Master Lists: Sam Winchester // All The Fandoms

Tag lists open: see here Info

Tags: @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r-blog / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimallina87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @pank0w / @kmc1989 / @sams-sass

#sam winchester #supernatural #spn #sam winchester appreciation #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfic #supernatural fanfic #jared padalecki #fluff #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #sam w x gen!reader #gen!reader #sam winchester is pure sunshine

[princessmisery666-library]

made-up fic title: Yours to Hold

Summary: Dean lives in a fantasy that isn’t that far from the truth. 

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst. 

W/C: 790

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Unnamed female (she/her - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Notes: follow on to Part-Time Soulmate & Love-Blind Haze

A/N: Thank you, Yvette, for the inspiration. Seems fitting your challenge inspired the first two, and your ask inspired this.

Beta: @deanwinchesterswitch // as always thank you so much. Mistakes belong to me.

Graphics: Dividers: @talesmaniac89 // title card made by me.

Master Lists: Made Up Fic Titles // Supernatural // Main

The invitation was stuck to her fridge by a cupcake-shaped magnet. Dean had been seeking cream, but upon reading the charmingly designed invitation, he’d exchanged the coffee mug for a tumbler and filled it with rich amber liquid instead of bitter black.

‘Plus one’ seemed to glare like a torch light shining directly in his eyes. The date and names held no significance to him. He didn’t know if they were friends or family or if she was invited on behalf of the bride or groom. He didn’t care. 

Except that he did. 

He should have recognized the names. They obviously held some significance to her if they were close enough to invite her to their wedding. His stomach twisted with guilt, but he burned it away with a sip of whiskey.  

Plus one.

Did she have someone to go with, or would she go solo? He knew enough that she wouldn’t be self-conscious or embarrassed to attend alone. She celebrated happiness every chance she got - being dateless wouldn’t hold her back.

But what if Dean was holding her back? What if showing up unannounced and sporadically kept her from seeking a person to whom her friends could attach a name to that ‘plus one’ instead of an open invite? Or maybe she had someone, but it was too new, and they didn’t want to put the name on the formal invite in case it didn’t work out.

A large gulp finished the glass, but it barely doused the envious fire churning in his gut. Questions rattled around in his mind, and as the clock ticked over, he began to resent her. He came here to quiet his mind, rid himself of doubts, and turn down the noise. But that invitation was like an irritatingly catchy pop song he couldn’t get out of his head.

He saw her descend the stairs in his peripheral, and her step faltered when she saw him. He was usually gone by now, he’d slip out before the sun rose, or she left him sleeping when she went to work, but she’d always leave a note. Some version of, ‘Help yourself to anything you need.’ But he’d already done that, taking what he needed from her. ‘Will be back around six,’ He always read that as ‘make yourself at home,’ but he never did, and he was never there when she returned. 

She stopped short of entering the kitchen. Folding her arms over her chest, she leaned against the doorframe, watching him in the low light of the rising sun.

He sipped his drink, wishing he’d left when he’d had the chance and that he was stronger. He should be stronger. Should find another outlet to quiet his mind and slow the world down. But other than illegal narcotics, she was the only thing to ever succeed in letting him shut the world out.

Slowly, she approached him, a hesitant caution to each step. She ran her fingers through his hair, asking, “What’s wrong?” 

And just like that, she’d reminded him why he was so weak when it came to her. He didn’t need to be stronger. He needed broader shoulders to bear the weight – of the pain he caused her, the danger he brought to her doorstep.

He responded only to close his eyes as she raked her fingers through his hair. She repeated the motion, soothing him, and he soon forgot she’d ever asked him a question.

Gently she tipped his head up, and whatever she saw when he opened his eyes made her brow knit together as if she was taking on whatever pain he felt as her own. Yet, she knew him well enough to save her breath in repeating the question and instead changed the subject, “How’s the whiskey taste?”

Like I’m about to tell you how I feel. 

He reached up to cup her cheek and drew her down to his lips in answer to the question. She washed his mouth of the taste, and he accepted every sweep of her tongue with a contented hum.

For a moment, he surrendered to the fantasy, wondering if she’d kiss him like that if family and friends surrounded them at the end of a flower-lined aisle. 

To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse.

Those vows had never been said aloud. Hell, they’d never declared any feelings, but they’d been engraved in kisses, exchanged in rapturous worship of their flesh, and promised amongst delicate caresses. 

Breathlessly, she pulled away, keeping her eyes on his, a pained scowl that he imagined was a reflection of his. “What’s wrong?” she asked again.  Everything. He forced a smile, “Nothing.”

Tag List Info

Dean Winchester: @deandreamernp / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @lyarr24/ @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

Super Supernatural: @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimallina87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole

#dean winchester #angst #made up fic titles #supernatural #spn #dean winchester x reader #female reader #dean winchester x unnamed reader #reader insert #supernatural fanfic

[princessmisery666-library]

Hi Stacey! For the made-up fic titles, how about..."This Hope in My Heart"? 🥰

Summary: Sometimes having hope can hurt, but in the end it all works out. 

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: slight angst, fluffy fluff.

W/C: 700

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

A/N: Thank you @ryebecca for the inspiration and for allowing me to use your mood board. 

Betas: none. Because these are supposed to be fun and pressure less.

Graphics: @ryebecca made the mood board in the title card - original can be found here

Master Lists: Made Up Fic Titles // Top Gun Maverick

For as long as you’ve known him, Bob has been the perfect gentleman. Whenever you hung out, he picked you up, meeting you at the door, not honking the horn from the curb side. He held doors open for you, always walked on the side of the traffic. He ordered extra fries, even though you said you didn’t want any. He saved the last bite of his dessert for you, which was always conveniently your second choice from the menu.

He’s sweet and traditional and of course it’s perfectly adorable. But every single time he walks you to your door to say goodbye there’s a spark of hope that he’ll kiss you. It’s clear that it’s what you both want and if he weren’t so old before his time you’d make the move on him but you're not sure how he’d react to such a bold move. So every time he walks back to his car, without having kissed you, your hope dies and the sting of disappointment lingers for days.

It soon becomes too much to bear and you find yourself canceling plans with him. It’s easier to not be around him.

He notices after the third cancellation and he calls constantly until you answer.

“Hi,” you greet him quietly, though there’s no one else around. 

“Hey,” he says, sounding surprised. “Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you for a while.”

“I’m okay,” you lie.

“Well I'm not,” he admits firmly, “I miss you.”

“Bob, I…” 

“Can you come over?” he asks, rambling, “I really need to tell you something but I want to do it face to face and I need to show you something but I can’t leave right now.” He must hear your inhale and before you can exhale an excuse not to go over he pleads, “Please.”

As much as you know it will hurt, you agree and the happy smile in his voice is enough to dull the ache of disappointment that's still hanging around since you last saw him.

Bob answers the door so fast after you knock that you're sure he’s been lying in wait since you hung up the phone awaiting your arrival. 

He smiles and hesitantly he pulls you into the tightest of hugs. It’s not until you wrap your arms around him that he admits, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Bob.” 

He’s practically vibrating with excitement by the time he lets you go and his boyish grin is contagious. 

“What’s going on?” You ask, suspiciously.

“Come with me,” he says, taking your hand and dragging you up the stairs.

He stops outside his bedroom door and puts a finger to his lips to tell you to be quiet.

“Bob,” you whisper, “what’s going on?” 

His smile beams and it is so wide it must hurt his face, but he slowly opens the door and leads you inside. 

Tucked up in the clean white sheets of the bed, sleeping soundly with his head on the pillow is a beautiful golden retriever puppy.

“Oh my god,” you say and quickly clap a hand over your mouth. The pup stirs, yawns while stretching and goes right back to sleep.

“He’s adorable,” you coo, looking at Bob who seems to only be focused on you.

“His name is Mack,” he explains, “I got him for you, well for us. I know you always wanted a dog and your landlord won’t allow pets but I thought he could be ours.”

“Ours?” 

He nods and he has that look that says he’s about to start rambling again but instead he surprises you, striding the distance between you and cupping your face to hold eye contact.

“Ours,” he says, firmly. You don’t know who moves in first but you feel his warm breath ghost over your lips when he says, “together.”

His mouth claims yours and all the hope you’ve ever felt comes rushing back, your whole body hums with elation, and you're sure Bob’s arms wrapped around your waist are the only thing keeping you grounded.

His kiss feels like a promise and an apology for not having done it sooner but mostly it feels like finally forever can begin. 

Tag List Info

Take to the skies: @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r-blog / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @imjess-themess / @justagirlinafandomworld / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @shanimallina87 / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @xoxabs88xox / @atarmychick007 / @genius2050

#made up fic titles #bob floyd #fluff #ask game #top gun maverick #thank you for the inspiration #robert 'bob' floyd #cuteness #fluffy fluff

[princessmisery666-library]

made-up fic title: The Best of You

Steve Rogers x reader

You never asked him for anything. But somehow that felt like asking for everything. You tried to give him what you thought he wanted, a friend and a lover and it worked for both of you for a while.

Until it didn’t.

You’d turned down a dinner date with an amazing guy because you saw Steve glaring at you from across the room. But you couldn’t claim Steve as your own yet he wouldn’t want you to date anyone else. It wasn’t fair.

“Steve, I can’t,” you said when he knocked on your door just after midnight.

“I know,” he sighed. “It’s not enough, you deserve better.”

You shook your head. “After all this time, she has the best of you, and I was okay with what was left but it’s not enough anymore.”

“I’m sorry. I just can’t let her go.”

“So let me go.”

He nodded, stepped forward to press his lips to your forehead then turned and left.

Send me a made up fic title and I will tell you what I’d write for it.

#Steve Rogers #made up fic titles #Steve Rogers angst #marvel #angst #Drabbles