Summary: Y/n is a hunter, and has been hunting with the Winchesters for a few years now. She's fallen hard for the eldest Winchester, but one wrong move, threats their friendships
Warning: Angst, language, broken hearts, a hint of smut.
Prompt 12: I sat by the ocean and drank a potion to erase you
// A/N: Italics mean flashback, this fic is written for @thoughtslikeaminefield followers celebrations, if you’re not following, give her a follow! She’s an amazing writer! Read more here
♡.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡♡
Y/n shakes her head. Once again, she's left on the sideline while the Winchester’s move through the bar. Once again, she shakes her head before moving for the door, throwing cash on the table for her drinks. She ignored Sam calling for her and continued walking, thankful, for once, they were in California on a hunt.
She moved for the motel room, before searching through her bags, finding the one medicine that helped her during these nights. Dean meant nothing he said that night, he was drunk, drunk words never have the same meaning in the morning.
Moving through the halls, giggling and embracing each other, Dean's lips pressed against her own. She would’ve thought this was a dream, if his lips weren’t against hers, biting and pulling. She quickly unlocked her door, pulling Dean in with her.
Dean smiled, pushing her lightly onto the bed before moving and kissing down her jawline, and neck, leading down her chest. “I want you today, I want you tomorrow, next week, next month, next year and for the rest of my life,” his words made her heart race, quickly sobering her as she pulled away to look at him.
She bites her cheek, shaking her head as she whimpered, Dean continuing his assault on her neck, sucking lightly. “D-Dean?” she muttered, trying to sober up after hearing his words, but when he kissed her roughly, distracting her from her thoughts, grinding up against him she couldn’t take it anymore.
She growled, shaking her head, remembering the flirting going on between Dean and the bartender. She grabbed the bottle of Jack from her duffle bag and moving out of the room, walking for the beach.
Sitting on the beach, her bare feet drawing pictures in the sand; she glanced out at the water, biting at her lip, thinking about it all. “Just another notch on his belt” she muttered, sipping at the jack. What she didn’t know, was Sam had pulled Dean away from his newest conquer, telling him that Y/n was gone, and not in their hotel room.
Dean frowned, he knew exactly where she would be. He remembered everything that night, but he didn’t know how to talk to her about it, so he kept quiet and moved on, figuring she’d want nothing to do with him.
He walked out of the bar, and moved for the beach, he remembered her always talking about the beach; it was the one place she always wanted to go. That, and Universal Studios. He shakes his head, before slipping through the streets, heading for the beach.
Shaking his head, he walked, looking around him as he tried to spot her. Soon he spotted the Y/h/c hair before he continued walking. Soon he stopped a few feet behind her, biting at his lip as he tried to think.
“Go away,” she muttered, her voice laced with sadness and slurred with the jack controlling her thoughts.
“Not gonna happen,” he stated, shaking his head more, “especially since you're drunk now. Let's get you to the hotel.” He says, moving closer, but her words soon stopped him.
“I regret everything. All of it Dean. You, me, what we did…” she started, “I wish I could forget it. Then maybe I wouldn’t feel like another one of your conquests.”
Dean shakes his head, moving towards her more, and picking her up. “Your drunk, you don’t mean that,” he stated, not letting her drunken words get to his heart. He moved and started walking to the hotel room ignoring her mumbling.
He shakes his head as he thinks about her words, there’s no way she’d regret it. He knew that she liked him, Sam had let it spill, that’s why he did what he did that night. He wouldn’t have made a move if he didn’t think it was right, or much needed.
~~~ The Next Day ~~~
Y/n shakes her head, groaning and running for the bathroom. “God, I should've grabbed something else instead of Jack,” she groaned. She heard the door open and quickly shut and locked the bathroom door, “Not dealing with that right now,” she muttered.
Dean heard the door shut, and glanced at Y/n bed, nodding gently, he sat her coffee on the nightstand near her bed and sat on his trying to figure out what to say when she came out, if she came out. He looked down at his hands, glancing them over and moving to glance at all the little nicks and scars.
She came out after a while, not daring to look up, knowing just who exactly was in the room. They both sat in silence for a while, her not trusting her voice, remembering all that had happened. As well as all that she had said or thought about saying.
She finally looked up at the emerald-eyed Winchester, biting her cheek lightly, “Last night... I um.. I sat by the ocean and drank a potion to erase you,” she whispered, “so, please… just get it over with.”
“Get what over with?” his voice spoke before his brain even had the chance to register what she had said. She wanted to erase him, that’s why she finished the bottle last night.
“Go on then, tell me, Dean. Tell me you don’t love me.” Her voice wavered, making him stand up quickly to move for her, but she took a step back, and with each of his steps forward, she’d take one back.
He shakes his head, “I-I… I can’t,” he said, stopping his movements as he glanced her over, “I can’t because I think I might be falling in love with you.” She froze, her body stiffened as she glanced up at Dean, before moving away from him more. “You’re not… You don’t know love Dean” she felt her heartbreak seeing his face as she says this.
“You don’t think that. You’ve told me yourself that you know… you know that I know love,” he stated. “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it,” he growled, “Sam knows it, Bobby knew it, Jody, Donna, the girls. We all know it.” He moved a step towards her again, “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap outta me.”
She shakes her head, looking down, “Don’t Dean. I’m serious, I'm just a notch on Dean Fucking Winchester belt. Great for me, now go and flirt with the bar--”
“I think you’re just afraid to be happy. That’s why you’re ignoring your feelings and mine,” He stated, interrupting her.
She growled, glaring at him, “Don’t interrupt me, Winchester, for one, and two, you don’t understand how I feel, so don’t act like you do, Dean” her voice, he noticed, was shaky, he glanced down and his thoughts were true, tears filled her eyes.
“If lies keep… keep spewing from those lips then I’m walking out that door.”
He shakes his head, “you really think I’m lying, those words I said that night, Y/n/n. ‘I want you today, I want you tomorrow, next week, next month, next year and for the rest of my life,’ I meant those,” he stated. He moved a hand to her cheek, making her look up at him, wiping her cheeks gently with his thumbs.
“I’m in love with you,” He spoke, his voice soft as he looked her in the eyes. “Yeah, I flirted with the bartender last night, but ya wanna know what we were really talking about? You, we were talking about you,” he said, earning a low laugh from Y/n. She shakes her head, moving away from Dean, shoving his hands off her face.
“Stop lying!” She cried, shaking her head she moved and grabbed her bag, shaking her head. She moved for the door after grabbing her bag, but his hand on her wrist stopped her.
“Please don’t leave.” She shakes her head, biting her lip, trying to fight the tears.
“Let me go, please. Can you do that? Let me go?”
He scoffed, fighting his own tears. “Don’t ask me that,” he stated. “You can’t leave, please. Just.. we can.. God, we can pretend this never happened,” he clenched his jaw.
These are all Foo Fighters or Queens of the Stone Age song lyrics because that’s how I do. You can Google them for context, or not, but the challenge is to subvert and/or expound upon your chosen prompt in an original way that the apparent line may not present.
This challenge includes any and all fandoms.
You are not required or encouraged to include the line within the telling of your story, but please do note it in the header area of your post along with tagging me @thoughtslikeaminefield and #MJsSubversionChallenge.
RULES:
Gotta be following me.
Minimum 300 words, maximum 1k words. Use Keep Reading function for anything beyond 500 words.
I don’t care if everyone chooses the same prompt, so there’s no limit on that.
Any and all fandoms are welcome and encouraged.
I wanna read them all, so I need to set some hard limits: water sports, scat play, incest, underage (which includes Jack) sexual situations, bestiality, and extreme/violent non-con.
These can be dark, crack, gen, smut, horror, comedy, drama – whatever you’re inspired to write from these simple lines.
I don’t care about pairings as long as they aren’t family related.
Send me an ask with your chosen prompt so I can get excited about it! (It’s like my mom telling me to text her when I leave Aspen to drive home so that she knows when to start worrying.)
Deadline to post is Saturday, September 14.
I will have a master list up by the following Monday.
Open your mind – dose up on some psilocybin, psilocin, or whatever if you gotta – or keep it simple; I just want this to be a cool challenge and for you all to be really fucking proud of what you’ve produced, get me?
I love you all. Happy writing!
Prompts below the cut...
Seems that all they ever wanted was a brother.
So blow our mind and make it lazy.
I’m right where I belong – just hangin’ on.
We’ve got something to reveal, and no one can know how we feel.
You bleed and breathe the air.
You and me, we fit so tight.
No one has a fit like I do.
Let’s play along and let each other lose; a win would cause alarm.
All the deepest blues are black.
The devil made me holier than every man.
I behave so I can share it with you.
I sat by the ocean and drank a potion to erase you.
Truth ain’t gonna change the way you lie.
Zip your lip until you’ve picked a side.
There’s a long straight road, out of the cold.
My name’s been hanging on the hook outside your door.
We are the nation’s stakes. If everything’s erased, what you gonna do?
I’m afraid of aeroplanes, even though I like the way it feels to be a person in the sky.
Wind me up and watch me spin.
Feeling me race inside you, and I feel you run through me.
A/N: heyyyyyy so I’ve been in a really rough patch that has equaled not a lot of writing, but I’m going to try and muscle through and post a few things within the next few days, starting with this wonderful piece for @thoughtslikeaminefield challenge. My prompt was the deepest blues are black.
W/C: 714
Misha x Reader
Warnings: BDSM themes, smut, dark(ish) fic
He was so bright, you’d never given much thought to his shadows. His eyes had drawn you in, as blue and deep as the ocean. Turned toward you, they consumed you. They hid secrets in their depths, and you existed to memorize them.
“Do you trust me?” Danger dripped from his words, thick as honey, but despite the fear weighing down your tongue, you found yourself nodding as his hips pressed into yours, encouraging you in a language all their own.
His smirk lit the night, sparked the embers deep within your body. The hair on your arms stood at attention, your skin breaking out in goosebumps as he leaned in, his voice nothing more than a breath against your ear.
“Good girl.”
The silk was soft as Misha bound your wrists to the bed, his hands firm and sure as they ghosted over your skin. They floated over your waist, followed by his lips, searing your skin where they trailed. His teeth pulled a moan from your throat as they toyed with your nipple. One hand trailed down to your pussy, his fingers rubbing feather light circles until your skin was tingling and your hips bucked for more, mindless begging bubbling past your lips.
“My pretty little cumslut.” Your mouth fell open, and Misha took the opportunity to push his thumb in. “I’ve got a treat planned for you tonight.” You inhaled sharply, letting your breath out as a whine as he pulled away.
The steel glinted in the low light, dancing as the candle flames flickered. Your heart hammered as he stalked toward you, his eyes predatory as they devoured your restrained form. He held up the tiny wheel, and your breath hitched in your throat.
“Hold still.”
He pushed the Wartenberg lightly over your calf and up your thigh, allowing you to adjust to the new sensations. Deep blue eyes observed your reactions as he traced patterns on your abdomen and chest, slowly increasing pressure until droplets of blood popped up behind the pinwheel, and your whimpers broke the quiet of the night. Your cunt dripped, your desires fed by the adrenaline coursing through your veins.
“Such a good little fucktoy aren’t you?” Misha wrapped a hand around your neck, his fingers squeezing as he pulled your shoulders off the bed. He pushed two fingers into your cunt, causing your eyes to roll back in your head. “So wet, so ready.”
“Always ready for you, sir.” You purred, your voice strung out and needy. “Please sir, I need it.”
“What do you need?” He thrust his hand, his palm brushing against your clit as his fingers rubbed over your gspot.
“Your cock, I need your cock.” A desperate mewl left your lips as he pulled his hand out of your aching cunt.
“Then I guess you better take it.” He pistoned his hips forward, bottoming out in one quick thrust.
He grinned at your groans and dropped you back on the bed, his sinister smile growing as he gripped your hips, thrusting slow and hard until your thighs quivered around him. He traced the patterns from the pinwheel with his fingers, smearing the blood along your chest , the salt from his skin causing them to sting. The overwhelming sensations pulled a long, low moan from your lips, mine now spelled out on your body.
“So beautiful for me. Such a good little cumslut. You gonna cum for me? Are you going to cum on my cock?”
“Please!” You cried, tears running down your face as his hand wrapped around your throat again, pulling you up into a kiss as other hand rubbed circles on your clit.
“Cum for me. Now.”
Your mouth dropped open in a soundless scream, your hands grabbing the sheet in white knuckled fists. Misha groaned as you obeyed, your legs squeezing his hips as his pace faltered. A soft moan left his lips as he came, placing soft kisses on your neck as he whispered praise in your ear.
He was smiling at you over coffee the next morning, those deep blue eyes consuming you one more. Your thoughts trailed to the bruises under your shirt, the blood under his fingernails, and the secrets that you knew was hidden in those blues; the deepest blues are black.
AN: This is written for @thoughtslikeaminefield ’s 1k challenge ♡ happy 1k MJ ❣ I hope I did this correctly.
*repost <3
Prompt used: “Let’s play along and let each other lose; a win would cause alarm.”
Summary: no more second chances for YN and Dean. It’s time to move on and let go.
Warning: Angst? I’m not very sure thou.
Word count: 900+
"We both know that you're the one who fell first." You said and giggled when you saw Dean frown. "falls face first, swoon and smitten." You continued teasing him like you usually do on your lazy days. Just you, him and your love for each other but this...this is not your normal day anymore.
"Says who? The girl who would always cry her heart out everytime I go home bruised and bloody?" He said sitting next to you on your bed resting his back on the headboard.
Now it's your turn to frown.
"For the record the crying parts are all after we become an item...so it's all legal. Unlike someone who would glare at every dude near me." You said folding your arms in front of your chest.
"Oh now you're angry." He smirked. You saw his hand coming towards yours and you swallowed the lump on your throat. You stand up before he can reach you and went to the vanity table at the foot of your bed and sat down on your chair. You stared at Dean through the mirror and you saw how his jaw tightens.
Your eyes watered. Blinking away the wretched liquid you look down at the ring at the middle of your table you took in a shaky breath then look up again and saw Dean looking at your direction his eyes full of pain.
"Don't say it…" he said, voice hoarse from the emotion he is trying to suppress. You saw his hand went to play with the identical ring on his finger.
"You know you have to. It's the right thing to do…" you said walking towards him. "It's time Dean. You have to salt and burn it. I can feel the crazy knocking on my head in each passing day and I don't want it to be your last memory of me." You said your tears falling and your heart ache.
"I-I can't…" he said palming his face, shoulder shaking and you can hear his sobs. "Not yet please (YN). I fucking need more time!" He wipes his face and look up at you. He looks so broken and you hate yourself for making him feel all this.
"Stop it. I-I know what you've been doing. I don't want it!" Your form glitched for a second from the emotion you felt. You saw the guilt in his face. "We had a promise. That who ever go down first, the other one will honor it and move on. No crossroad deals, exchanging souls or talking to angels, nothing but a proper hunter burial. You said. "When we go, we go. That's it." You made your wedding ring float and made it land on Dean's lap.
"I know that but I can't just do nothing…" he picked your ring up and brought it to his lips kissing it tenderly like how he does with you every morning. "It was all my fault. I shouldn't have let you come on that hunt. He said. His hand started filling his own hair while clenching your ring on the other one.
"Never blame yourself. I'm glad that I was there. If I wasn't you would be dead and the world needs its Dean Winchester to survive. I would do it again if given a chance." You said smiling. Remembering how you had to push him away when a vampire was about to attack him and end up being bitten. Your wounds was very fatal and you died there in an instant in your husband's arms.
"But I need you! How can I survive without you? What's the use of me saving this bitch of a world if I don't have you to live in it?" He cried loudly this time.
You heard doorstep coming your way and saw Sam appeared on the door. Worry evident on his tired face.
"Dean," he said entering the room.
You sadly smile looking at this two men. Your family...its painful that you had to leave them this early but it's better you than them. They're strong men and will be able to survive this.
"I can't do this Sammy. I can't." Dean said. Opening his clenched hand your ring in it.
"We know it's the right thing to do." Sam said looking at the ring. "She's here isn't she?" He roamed his eyes around the room. You tried your best to let him see your presence and saw him took a shaky breath when his eyes met yours.
"Heya Sammy." You said smiling.
"H-hey…" Sam stattured eyes wide. "(YN)."
"You take care of your brother for me, will you?" You said looking at Dean who now have a lighter on his other hand gripping it like his life depends on it.
"Y-yeah." San said.
You nodded and disappeared for a bit and reappear in front of Dean. Sam cannot see you anymore.
"Sweetheart," you said you attempt to touch him not expecting to really be able to do it. You blow a shaky breath your tears falling from your eyes when you felt his warm cheek. He leaned in your hand eyes closed. "I love you so much, always remember that."
You saw Sam put down a metal trash bin beside Dean. You kissed him one last time. This is it, you both have had your time, you're glad to be able to experience a lot with him but it's time now for you to go and for him to let you go.
He kissed your ring one last time before he gently put it down the bin. Sam poured salt and gasoline on it. Dean looked up at you. "I love you, sweetheart."
He said and throw the lighter on it. Waving at him you mouthed another "I love you" and then you were gone forever. No more coming back this time just plain good byes.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Top Gun (1986)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky/Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, Nick “Goose” Bradshaw & Pete “Maverick” Mitchell
Characters: Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, Tom “Iceman” Kazansky
Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Future Fic, Anniversary, Past Character Death, Canonical Character Death, Established Relationship, Long-Term Relationship(s), Aging, Swimming, Swimming Pools, Water, Memories, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, MJs Subversion Challenge
Series: Part 7 of Storm Universe
Summary:
It’s a big day, and Maverick’s dealing with it.
Written for @thoughtslikeaminefield's Subversion Challenge. Happy 1K, babe. This was all built from you bleed and breathe the air, which is a line from “Aurora” by the Foo Fighters. I learned that just this second because I did not look up the rest of the lyrics before writing; I just wrote from that six word prompt. The title is from the Garbage song of the same name.
OK - let’s punk rock this bitch. I’ve eliminated the entry deadline - bc wtf does that even mean? - and extended the posting deadline.
There are a few of you who I reeeeeeelly want to enter, but you’ve expressed that you don’t feel you have time. Perhaps extending the posting date to Saturday, September 14 will help?
Message me if you have questions, guys. This is a “challenge” but it’s a celebration, too! xox
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Top Gun (1986)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell
Characters: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky
Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Future Fic, 2000s, Elevators, Elevator Sex, Las Vegas, Reunions, Reunion Sex, Frottage, Semi-Public Sex, MJ's Subversion Challenge, Birthday, Birthday Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, anti-angst
Series: Part 8 of Storm Universe
Summary:
Ice looks good. He looks really good, and Maverick doesn’t realize his mistake until they are back in the elevator, riding down to the ground floor to the restaurant where Maverick has made reservations for Ice’s birthday dinner. They are alone in the elevator, and Maverick takes a look at Ice’s trim figure in his suit, at the tantalizing inches of honey brown chest visible because of his open collar, and his mouth goes dry.
“Fuck, Ice,” he says, “you look so good. We should’ve had sex upstairs.”
For @thoughtslikeaminefield 1K Subversion Challenge. Title from the Queens of the Stone Age song "Do It Again."
