Ready Aim Fire

Ready Aim Fire

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Word Count: 1020

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

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

gif not mine, credit to whoever owns it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SHERLOCK FANDOM RIGHT NOW

Introduction

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

Give Me A Kiss

Pairing: Castiel x reader

Word Count: 777

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

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: Enjoy!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m really glad I did.”  

And all these sorrows I have seen, They lead me to believe, That everything’s a mess. But I wanna dream. I wanna dream. Leave me to dream.

I'm here for you.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 825

Warnings: Spoilers for season five, feels.

A/N: Hope y’all like it~ 

It was in that moment, that heart-shattering moment, in which you saw every last bit of Dean’s reserve crumble to dust as Sam, possessed by Lucifer, made his exit. Dean put his hands to his head in complete and utter despair, and in that one moment you saw a person you had never seen before. All of the hunter’s tough layers had peeled off and for the first time, you saw how much of a mess he actually was, how much pain he had had to endure in his life and how he had never allowed all that pain to exit his body. It was like seeing the tallest building crumble, a proud ruler kneel, an empire fall. And without a second thought, you rushed to his side to help him. You knew you were but the tiniest rock trying to hold back a flood, but you were all Dean needed in that moment. You put your arms gently around him, pulling him closer and gently stroking his back.

“Sam’s gonna be okay, Dean. He’s strong enough to pull through, he’s strong enough to take control over Lucifer and get this over and done with. I… I know he’s not coming back if he succeeds, but he will be remembered as the greatest hunter of all time. The smartest, the best,” you whispered, and he didn’t reply, but he hugged you closer to him, embracing you tightly. His breathing was uneven, and the tears were still flowing freely from his eyes, but he remained silent, and you took that as a silent invitation to go on with your consoling speech.

“And you’ll have his memory always with you,” you pulled away from his hug slightly to place your hand over the left side of his chest, where you could feel his heart flutter under his shirt.

“Right there,” you smiled up at him, a tad shyly, and while he did not smile back, he nodded.

“That still won’t be good enough. Sammy can’t be replaced by some memory, no matter how good that memory is,” he said, his voice deeper than usual from crying. He chewed on that plump lower lip of his unconsciously, and you couldn’t help but find your gaze drawn to the movement of his lips. Before you did anything rash, you shook your head ever so slightly to clear it, and then you took a deep breath to continue talking.

“I know a memory will never be adequate. I know nothing could ever be as good as Sam was; nothing could ever fill that hole inside you, but… for what it’s worth, I’ll always be here for you. Promise.” Pain flashed through his eyes for a millisecond. A new kind of pain, not the soul-wrecking one he’d been feeling up to that moment.

“How do you know that? How can you know that you’ll be here? You can’t promise things you know aren’t up to you. Sam was here for me yesterday, but now he isn’t.  Now, Satan’s wearing him as a meat suit and I am losing him. I have already lost him,” Dean managed to choke out between sobs, and a new wave of tears flowed out of his eyes. He grit his teeth as he shut his eyes tightly.

“I want this to end,” he whispered so silently you barely heard him, but that one simple phrase of his held so much meaning that the very force of his words caused you to shiver.

“Dean…” you murmured his name softly, and when he didn’t look at you, you repeated his name, slightly more forcefully this time.

“What is it?” he asked cracking his still teary eyes open, and you offered him the tiniest of encouraging smiles.

“I can’t promise you that I’ll always be here, but I can promise you I’ll try my best to be here for you for as long as I can,” you said, and his brilliant green eyes flickered with the tiniest spark of hope.

“Thank you,” he muttered, because he knew that when you gave your word you tried your damnedest to keep it. Your small smile grew into a grin, and you couldn’t help but notice his eyes travel down to your mouth. When your lips met Dean’s, it felt like a train wreck and a lullaby all at once. It was almost overwhelming. His kiss was forceful, needy, but there was an undertone of tenderness to the way his tongue explored your mouth and his teeth nipped on your lower lip. This was the first kiss you’d shared, and odds were it’d be the last, but the caress of Dean’s lips on yours felt comforting and wonderful, and you didn’t care that he was kissing you mostly because he needed an outlet for all of his pent-up emotions. Your heart beat for him, and you had given him your word. You’d be there for him no matter what ne needed.