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kaleldobrev · 3 months

Text

Taste

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader & Dean Winchester

Summary: Dean going down on you in the back of Baby

Word Count: 657

Warnings: Cursing (4x), Smut (Fingering & Oral — F Receiving)

Authors Note: Takes place during season one | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

The uncomfortableness of the backseat didn’t faze you, as having sex in this specific position was one you were accustomed to; even before picking up Sam from Stanford.

Late night make out sessions before quietly leaving the motel room to find solace in Baby had become routine for you and Dean, as neither one of you wanted to be the one responsible for waking up Sam; knowing that he would give an earful to both of you.

Your bare back slightly stuck to the leather as Dean started to trail kisses down your chest and abdomen, stopping just above the hem of your shorts. The sounds of your back lifting up from the leather caused Dean to stop what he was doing, slight concern crossing his face. “Want me to put the blanket or my jacket down?” He asked, his hands already going for the blanket on the floor.

“Please,” you replied; almost semi-peeling yourself up from the leather seat. You covered your chest with your arms, unsure of why you did so, as this wasn’t the first (nor would it be the last) time Dean had seen you naked.

Happy with the placement of the blanket, he gave you a quick peck on the lips before gently lying you back down onto the backseat — your back no longer sticking to the leather.

Dean went back to kissing your abdomen again, and then hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts. You lifted your ass up a bit, just enough for him to remove your shorts — the look in his eyes was priceless when he realized you had nothing on underneath. “Expecting this were you?” He grinned, throwing your shorts onto the floor next to him.

Spreading your legs, you couldn’t help but grin. “Always,” you said, starting to run your fingertips up and down your thigh.

Without a second thought, he hooked your legs over his shoulders; his eyes level with your now exposed pussy. “Been wanting to do this all day,” he said, starting to kiss your inner thighs.

“Says the one who just gave me shit for going commando,” you grinned. You could feel his slightly stubbled smirk in your thighs, followed by him mumbling something you couldn’t quite make out.

His tongue made a long strip on your clit, and you let out a small moan at the contact. You too had been craving this all day. His tongue started slow, doing those intricate swirls he usually did so effortlessly with his tongue, that caused you to slightly squirm. His hand splayed on your stomach, trying to keep you from moving too much as he started to slowly fuck you with a combination of his fingers and tongue.

“Fuck,” you breathed out; feeling yourself starting to clench around him; a smirk returning on his lips. It didn’t take long for Dean to get you there, as he was a self proclaimed expert when it came to knowing exactly the right moves to get you to come not only quickly, but hard.

Your whole body shuddered, and your knees began to go weak. You were thankful for the support of his shoulders, as if you didn’t, you knew your whole body would have gone limp.

He continued to alternate between using his tongue and fingers as you rid out your orgasm; your pussy starting to get sensitive from the intense orgasm that your boyfriend had just provided you with.

Coming down from your high, he removed his fingers and tongue from you, and you slightly whined at the loss of him. "Always so fucking good," he said, sticking his fingers in his mouth, licking them clean.

As you propped yourself up on your semi-shakey elbows, he looked at you, slightly grinning, and you couldn't help but smirk in return. "What are you thinking about?" He asked.

"How it's my turn to taste you," you replied; a look of pure lust in his eyes.

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castiwls · 1 month

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pancake - d.w

Pairing; Dean x reader

Synopsis; Pancakes are harder than they seem

Warnings; None

Notes; Trying to write smaller drabble-like pieces so I don't burn out lmao. Any requests are welcome! (prompts from celestialwrites :))

masterlist

“What is that?” You frowned slightly as your eyes fell on the black charred remains of something which you were at one point was edible. Dean jumped slightly at the sound of your voice before turning his head to face you.

“a pancake..?” He said slowly, using the spatula to push the small black mass around the pan. You stared at him briefly, your brow furrowing in slight confusion. “it’s black..” You pointed out before reaching for the coffee pot placed on the counter.

Grabbing a mug you poured yourself a cup before moving to lean on the counter. Taking a sip you watched as he tipped the ‘pancake’ out onto a plate. It crumbled slightly as it fell causing you to let out a quiet laugh.

Dean glared at you for a moment before pouring more batter into the pan. “It’s a sad attempt at a pancake then.” He grumbled before focusing on the pan.

“Want some help?” You moved to stand beside him placing your mug on the counter. “We don’t need any more pancake deaths today.” You grinned as he stepped aside. He let out a quiet chuckle before wrapping his arms around your middle.

“Hmm. If you're so sure” He smiled pressing a kiss to your head.

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my-proof-is-you · 1 month

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But God, at what cost?

Imagine: Dean helping you get through your cardio workout

A/N: Literally thought of this when I was at the gym trying to get through a workout. Pretended Dean was cheering me on…is that weird? Ha.

You were pretty sure almost no one hated running more than you.

You were a bigger person. You always had been. Plus sized, if you will. You were very strong, though. When you hunted, you held your own.

You didn’t hate your body, either. You weren’t skinny like some of your friends were in high school. You knew none of them could do what you could on hunts, though.

Dean liked your curves, too. He always said he admired your strength and the man damn near worshipped your body in bed.

But you knew your weakness: cardio.

It wasn’t very often you had to run for your life. You, Sam and Dean made a great hunting team, so there was rarely a need to run away.

When you did, though, you lagged behind. That meant that Dean lagged behind, too. He would never leave you to fend for yourself. You didn’t like it. You didn’t want him in danger any more than he wanted you to be.

So that was why you were trying to get better at running even though it was the bane of your existence. You’d been spending time in the bunker gym, using the treadmill Sam had bought for when the weather outside wasn’t conducive to his runs.

You didn’t really want Dean to know what you were doing. It was your own problem, and you wanted to fix it on your own.

You’d run a few times on your own on the treadmill, and hated every second of it. It put you in a bad mood for the rest of the day, and your boyfriend had definitely noticed.

You were once again trying to get a run in on the treadmill before the brothers got back from their supply run. Unfortunately, you didn’t time it right.

“Y-Y/N?” Dean asked, entering the gym. He had a shocked look on his face.

“What?” You huffed, annoyed. It wasn’t his fault, but you couldn’t hide how much you hated what you were doing.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, coming to stand next to the treadmill with his arms crossed over his chest.

You rolled your eyes. “Can’t a person run without getting asked a million questions?”

“A person, yes. You…no. Sweetheart, you hate running,” he said with a smile and a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah—well— hate—putting you—in danger—more,” you said while panting.

Dean reached over, pulling the cord that stops the treadmill.

“Hey!” You exclaimed, slowing to a walk before the belt stopped completely.

“What are you talking about?” Dean asked. “What danger?”

“I’m slow, Dean,” you said, finally regaining your breath. “I know I am. And I don’t want to be the reason you stay behind and get killed by a monster!”

“First of all, that’s not going to happen. And B, you are one of the best hunters I know. I really think you’re underestimating yourself.”

You sighed. “Regardless, Dean, I could be better, and I want to be.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed as he studied your face. “This has nothing to do with looks, right? Cause, sweetheart, you know I think you’re perfect the way you are.”

You smiled, despite your exhaustion. “I know that, De. And I promise, it’s not about that. I know I’m hot,” you said with a wink.

Dean bit his lip, sending a little thrill through to your core.

“I just want to improve is all,” you said with a shrug.

“Well, sweetheart, you know how I feel about running, too. I hate it maybe more than you do. But if this is something you want, I will help you,” Dean said, reaching out to squeeze your hand.

You weren’t sure how he meant to help you, but going it alone wasn’t working. You’d take any help offered at this point.

He watched your face as you tried to understand what he’d do, and he gestured for you to step back on the treadmill. You turned it back on and began jogging.

After a minute or so, you started to get out of breath and wanted desperately to stop. You looked at Dean, who nodded his head in the direction the treadmill was facing to tell you to keep looking forward.

“You got this, sweetheart,” he began. He wasn’t yelling it, just speaking with conviction at his normal volume.

“I’ve seen you go through literal Hell, Y/N. This is nothing. You are so strong.”

His words gave you some confidence. It was nice to hear, especially over the voice in your head that was telling you to quit.

You went another ten minutes with Dean’s words of encouragement spurring you on before your legs started really aching.

“It—hurts—De—” you panted.

“Just a little more, Y/N/N. And when you’re done, I’m gonna take you to the shower…get you nice and clean,” he said, his voice turning sultry.

“Hm?” You asked, suddenly distracted from your pain.

“That’s right, baby. Then I’m gonna massage all your sore muscles.”

You felt even more of a blush rising to your cheeks.

“And tomorrow, when you’re all rested, we’re gonna do some cardio together.”

“You—hate—running,” you said, breathless for more than one reason.

“I’m not talking about running, sweetheart.”

You hit your goal of two miles then, and nearly leapt off the treadmill before the belt even stopped.

“Let’s hit the showers,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the hall.

Dean followed, chuckling. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Forevers:

@divadinag @lynne1993 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @onethirstyunicorn @sammykb1994 @lilulo-12 @mellorine-paprika @tranquility-or-chaos @collette04 @hoboal87 @chevyharvelle @miraclesoflove @defenderrosetyler @babypink224221 @calaofnoldor @beatifuldisaster018 @coffeebooksandfandom @supernatural3002 @lainxcas @mylovelydame21 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @lovely-lynns-likes @ppeachygemss @screechingartisancashbailiff @metalfangirl @vicmc624 @polina-93 @hobby27 @sexyvixen7 @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @lyarr24 @amelia-song-pond @donnaintx @spnbaby-67 @traceyaudette @gh0stgurl @fiftyshadesgrl @tapedeck-hearts @lacilou @foxyjwls007 @stoneyggirl2 @kr804573 @cumuluscranium

Dean/Jensen:

@harleycao

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justkending · 9 months

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It's just a hobby. (Drabble)

Summary: You took up a new hobby, and Dean likes to poke and tease you for it, but you feel the need to seek a little revenge for the constant joking.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3300+

A/N: I started this during the summer when I started five different crocheting projects (ADHD carried my summer hobbies) and decided to finish it before school started back up. I am currently still writing Found Memories, but I have to put a pause on it as the first month of school tends to take a lot of my time away from hobbies like writing… I’m moving to teach 8th-grade English this year and could use all the energy you’re all willing to send my way! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this short story, and I’m happy to have the inspiration to write for Dean again :)

(Also, this is the closest to smut I think I've ever written...)

_______

“Seriously?” Dean grumbled as he looked in the rearview mirror seeing me pulling yarn to untangle a knot I had created.

Knowing where he was going with his normal banter, I just laughed and continued to focus on the craft in front of me.

“I pulled this out like 20 minutes ago. How are you just now noticing?”

“I’m watching the road,” he argued, and I rolled my eyes. As always, he had been sneaking glances to the back of the cab at me every other minute. “The hunt wasn’t even 40 minutes away from the bunker. Why did you bring that?”

“Why do you listen to the same three Led Zeppelin songs when you're upset about a hunt?” I countered, and he opened his mouth to disagree, but I answered for him to skip the sarcastic conversation brewing. “Comfort Dean. It’s all about comfort.”

“Why are you so weirded out by a normal hobby?” Sam jumped in, smirking, and sporting one of the many beanies I had made him with said hobby, which he had come to love. He looked down at a newspaper in his lap, no doubt already scoping out a new hunt.

“It’s not-” Dean stumbled on his answer. “I’m not weirded out by it. It’s just not a hobby I imagine someone like Y/N taking up.”

“You just described why you’re weirded out by it,” Sam looked at him with a blank stare.

He ignored him and rolled his eyes.

“What kind of people do you imagine the crocheting community to be full of?” I smiled, still looking down at my hands and knowing his answer already.

“Grandmas,” he replied almost immediately.

“Hmm,” I hummed as if surprised by his confession, even if it was wrong. “Well, if that’s the case, I’ll stop wasting my talents on things for you.”

I could see his eyes shoot up in the mirror and a look of regret ghost over his green orbs.

Dean liked to make a big deal about this particular hobby I had started up a little over six months ago. I think a part of him just liked to tease me about it, but deep down, I knew he was proud of my growth. He was just bad at voicing it.

The first things I ever crocheted were just simple squares in different stitch work to learn a variety of them better. Those squares became washcloths and, surprisingly, were still used daily in the kitchen.

I learned to make bags, socks, hats, sweaters, stuffed animals, and even a few blankets.

“Just 30 minutes ago, you took down five security guards, wrestled three teenage vampires, and booby-trapped half of his nest. Now you’re crocheting a sweater for Charlie that says, ‘What’s up bitches?’ in the backseat. Mind you, with blood still smeared on your face,” he raised an eyebrow at me in the mirror.

I looked up and leaned toward the front to get a better look at myself.

“Oh, shit, I thought I got it all,” I groaned, seeing a smear on the side of my face I must have missed.

“It doesn’t add up,” he shook his head, but I could see a joking smile on his lips.

“Much to your surprise Dean, girls can have more than one personality trait. I know you boys are all, ‘Ugh, monsters! Kill, kill, kill! I need a scotch in my hand and The God Father playing on loop in the background to show how manly I-’

“Hey,” Sam cut me off and looked at me with his sad puppy dog eyes. “I’m on your side.”

“You’re right… You also like to read and share fun facts,” I winked, touseling his hair and getting a scoff of a laugh as he swatted my hand away. “See how hurtful it can be when you forget our brains have the capacity to do more than one thing?” I turned back to Dean with my arms crossed on the bench seat in front of me.

“I don’t think you're incapable of having more than one interest in life; I just think it’s interesting that you chose a 90-year-old women's side gig as your hobby,” Dean countered, pulling into the garage.

“Well, if you can’t appreciate it, then you can’t have the gifts my hard work creates,” I huffed, gathering my things and sliding back to the door as Dean parked the car.

Once the car was in park, I was the first out. I wasn’t actually mad at him, I was a hundred percent messing with him, but he deserved it for teasing me this long about it when I knew he loved everything I had made him this far.

He had a favorite blanket that he preferred to sleep with now. He had a nice sweater he wore around the bunker when he was cold. He had a few pairs of socks he preferred over store-bought ones. He even had a miniature plush Batman figurine that sat on his desk that I had learned to crochet just for him.

“Y/N, you don’t mean that!” he called after me, standing in the door on the driver's side of the Impala and shouting over the roof of it where I was walking inside.

“We'll find out soon,” I yelled back, never turning around.

The next three days, I teased him like he had me about this whole ordeal, but in my own way.

When we were cooking in the kitchen or doing dishes, if he grabbed one of the squares that now acted as our kitchen hand towels, I would steal it from his hands and say, “Sorry, merchandise can only be used by those who value it.”

With which he would respond, “Wait! I need that!” with his hands drenched in water after washing his hands.

Just for extra measure, I took all the towels and moved them to a new place only Sam and I knew. He was happy to join in on my little prank, and every time he had one, he made sure Dean saw him with it.

“Where did you get that?” Dean would jump up from wherever he was and march over to him to try and steal it.

“Only the VIP customers have access to these,” Sam would wave it above his head out of reach of Dean.

Another time, after a hunt, it was freezing in our motel room, where the heater barely worked, and the hotel didn't have enough blankets. Luckily I had one packed in the trunk of Baby, and I used it for extra coverage.

Even though Dean and I shared a bed, I wrapped it around me as I slept and said, “Sucks that you hate this so much, or else I’d share with you…”

He stared at me with complete annoyance when I gave him an exaggerated “Oh well” face before stealing it all for myself.

I did, however, wake up to sharing it, but only because he had stolen it, and I was too tired to fight him about it.

I think one of my favorite times I rebuked him of his privileges was when he was wearing a pair of socks I had made him for Christmas around the house. I may have gotten a little more intense than I needed to, but the look on his face made it worth it.

He had come into the movie room to binge a few episodes of a new series I got him hooked on, and after he called me in to watch with him, I noticed the specific socks he had on.

I grinned once my brain had formulated a plan to make him regret ever giving me hell for a hobby he obviously loved himself.

“Claire said there was a show called Love Island we should watch. I have no clue what it’s about, but she said it was popular and what the kids are watching now,” Dean conversed as he grabbed the remote from the table and stood with a blanket (not one of mine, as I had relocated all of them so he couldn’t find them) around his shoulders.

He was in the perfect position for my plan.

I walked over and, instead of facing the TV, stood right in front of him and looked up at him.

“You know what we could do?” I whispered in a low and sultry voice, bringing my hand up to his chest and inching my fingers up to the collar of his t-shirt before pulling at it gently. His eyes instantly darkened, and he was frozen in his place.

“Wh-What, uh, what can we do?” he stammered out. Even after three years of dating, he still got nervous. I loved it.

“I think you know what,” I said, tiptoeing upward to quietly say in his ear, bringing my hand from his chest to the back of his neck, softly pulling him closer to me.

“I think I have an idea,” he replied more confidently, immediately bringing his free hand to my waist and squeezing it.

I could have faltered there, but I held strong. I was going to make him pay for all his little ‘grandma’ jokes he had sent my way the last few months.

I pulled back, sending him a smirk that I knew revved him up. He returned it with his own and started leaning down, forgetting his grip on the blanket and remote. Now both of his hands sat on my hips with a stronghold.

Before he could lean down any further, I pushed him backward harshly on the couch, and at first, he was shocked, then he was excited.

Slouched into the cushion, looking up at me, his tongue came out to lick his lips and ended with a bite to his lower lip as he eyed me up and down as I stood over him.

“Dear God, Y/N,” he hummed under his breath.

I guess it helped that I was wearing some of my shorter PJ shorts, ones he had told me were his favorites, and a shirt that was cropped and slightly falling off my shoulder.

He had a thing for me being in a disheveled manner like this. Reminded him of how I looked after we fucked around, and he held pride knowing he played a part in the kind of glow I gave off.

I wasn’t sure how long I could do this without failing myself on the original mission. I came here to fuck with him, and now he was the fucker. Or at least he was going to be if I didn’t follow through with my plan in the next minute.

“You know, you should be happy you were by the couch,” I smiled, stepping to him and strategically bringing my legs to straddle his hips teasingly.

His breath hitched at that, and I knew I had regained the upper hand.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” he hummed as he admired my hands pressing into his chest as I leaned in, bringing myself closer to him.

“I was about to take you wherever I found you,” I whispered, looking him dead in the eyes with a soft smile. I looked him up and down and bit the inside of my cheek. That seemed to trigger his hands back to my hips instantly. This time a much more possessive lock on them.

“I don’t know where this is coming from, but I can’t complain,” he said lowly, and I knew he was hooked. Now it was time for revenge.

“Can I ask you a question?” I hummed, running my finger lightly over his hair down to his jaw, using the tip of it to push his chin up so I could see his eyes better.

“Please,” he buzzed, drunk with lust.

“Hmm,” I hummed, smiling more, dropping my gaze to his lips, then back at his eyes where he was drowning in dopamine by our current position. “Those socks you have on?” He didn’t catch on immediately and just furrowed his eyes as he processed what I asked. “They look familiar.”

I leaned back from my seat, still straddling his hips, but not with nearly as much pressure as before.

“What-” Dean started, but it dawned on him mid-thought. His eyes went from ready to tear my clothes off to annoyed realization. “Seriously.”

“What?” I feigned ignorance and stood up, repositioning myself between his legs, both hands on his knees as I looked at him and leaned over.

He couldn’t tell which way this was going for him, and that was the point. I was still winning this little game.

I eased myself lower, squatting with my knees going into the couch and in between his thighs. My hands went flat on his knees and slowly started working up his thighs.

“I can’t tell what you’re doing here, Y/N,” he said in a breathy voice. I watched as he tried to control himself, looking up away from me but not being able to help react to my hands on him.

“I’m not doing anything,” I said in a voice that made him lower his nervous wandering eyes back to me. The amount of green in his eyes disappeared slowly.

“You’re teasing me,” he said shortly as if he was worried his voice would tremble if he didn’t get it out quickly.

“Maybe, maybe not,” I shrugged with a pursed lip before bringing my hands slowly back down his legs.

“You’re mad at me,” he stuttered the last word when my hands worked their way back up, but further up than before.

“Now, why would you think that?” I tutted, shaking my head with an exaggerated look of hurt.

All he could do was take a slow, deep breath in as I tilted my head and smiled devilishly at him.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t play innocent.”

I grinned.

“You and I both know I’m far from that…” My tone was darker than before but in a seductive and tempting manner.

He couldn’t hold back anymore. He shot up from his slouched position and leaned forward, grabbing my forearms in his hands and pulling me up in his lap with his nose mere inches from my own.

“If your goal was to make me suffer, you won,” he whispered so quietly; if I wasn't this close, I wouldn't have heard it. He tilted his head up just enough for our noses to brush before pulling back.

“Keep it together, girl… Keep it fucking together,” I repeated in my head.

“Did I? Or am I just getting started?” I snarked, and that caused the new grip on my thigh to tighten, and I almost groaned at the pressure.

“Don’t start a war you can’t win,” he smirked, feeling as though he possessed the power.

Two can play that game.

I smiled, bringing my free hand up and tracing it behind his ear before wrapping it slowly around the back of his neck. I brought his face closer to mine but stopped right when I could feel the brush of his lips.

Our chests were pressed into each other, and I could feel his heart rate pick up. Perfect.

I nudged our noses again and smiled as his eyes closed, and he naturally and lazily chased my lips.

I rocked my hips in a measured manner, placed perfectly in the middle of his lap, and he sucked in a breath at the friction.

“Women don’t start wars. They finish them,” I whispered before promptly standing up and, in a swift motion, yanking the socks he had on off and walking to the exit.

“Y/N!” I could hear his shout from the couch from where I knew he was with a full hard-on, unable to move just yet.

“This granny is going to bed!” I shouted, speed-walking to my room in case he decided to run after me.

“You little-!” the shout still seemed far behind me, and I quickly shut my bedroom door and locked it.

Thankfully, I think I left him incapacitated for a second, and he didn’t follow me immediately.

I actually didn’t hear from him for the rest of the night. I hoped I didn’t upset him, but also, the whole reason I had done what I had was because he had become a little ass about my favorite hobby. I don’t mind the jokes, but after a while, you want a pat on the back for learning something new. Especially from someone you care about.

I went ahead and did my normal nighttime routine and got into bed before I started to read a book. I must have dozed off while reading because I woke up to the lights out, my book on the end table, and Dean crawling into the other side of the bed.

Before I could say anything, his arms came around my waist, and he pulled me to his core. He was in his boxers and one of his soft t-shirts I made him wear to bed.

For the record, I was perfectly fine with him in no shirt (or pants, for that matter), but when he did wear a shirt, I made him put on a certain kind cause his band and certain graphic tee ones were itchy on me when we cuddled.

He took a deep sigh and nuzzled his face into the crevice between my neck and shoulder, one of his favorite places.

“Why’d you lock your door?” he asked, already knowing I had woken up.

He had definitely picked the lock.

“I thought you were going to hunt me down, and I forgot to unlock it,” I replied sleepily.

There was silence for a minute, and eventually, he spoke up, whispering in my ear his apology.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” I sighed with a winning grin he couldn't see, knowing why but playing coy anyway.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you how much I appreciate your brain,” he answered.

That was not what I expected, but I was intrigued.

“Hmmm,” I smiled, moving my hands to his that were wrapped around my ribs and nuzzling my backside closer to him. “Don’t stop now; you’re on a roll.”

He laughed and invited my attempt to fit into him like a puzzle piece.

“You’re ambitious with everything you want to learn to do, and I don’t tell you enough how much of a turn-on that is,” he hummed, rubbing his head into mine and peppering a kiss on my neck here and there. “And I know you know how much I love the skills you gain, but sometimes I’m bad about just saying how impressive you are to me.”

“You like my crocheting skills, Winchester,” I chuckled, turning my body to face him now and throwing one of my legs over his hips, pulling back in some. “Just say it.”

“I love your crocheting skills,” he replied with a wide grin and brought a hand up to move the stray hairs that fell on my face. “I love your baking and cooking. I love your impressive TV show-binging skills. I love the random facts you have stored in that beautiful brain of yours. I love your surprisingly nerdy side of Marvel and superheroes. I love your attempt at being a gardener.”

“Hey, I have three plants that are thriving right now!” I argued, poking a finger in his chest, which he grabbed and kissed the tip of.

“I love everything you’re passionate about,” he finished off. “I don’t tell you enough, and sometimes I like to see that face you give me when I tease you.” I gave him a look. “Maybe more than sometimes… But! I do love all those things and more about you, Y/N.”

“I don’t doubt it,” I replied, scooting in closer. “But it is nice to hear it from those captivating lips of yours.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

We started smiling at each other, and I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about earlier.

“I’m sorry I teased you,” I sighed, moving to where I was embedded in his chest, and he wrapped himself back around me.

“Don’t be. I deserved it,” he replied, chin on my head before he bent down and kissed the top of it. “I will say, though, I’ve never been mad about seeing that side of you.”

“What side?” I looked up at him.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know what you were doing,” he chuckled, pulling my head back to him.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I agreed after a minute. “Hey.”

“Hm?”

“You’re my favorite person. You know that, right?”

“Feelings are very much mutual,” he answered, caressing a hand up and down my back.

“Good. I’d have to kill you with one of my knitting needles if you said otherwise. Who said needleworking wasn’t dangerous, right?”

My Lovelies Forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @marvelfansworld @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @carls1022 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk @drakelover78 @caruhleener

Supernatural Tags:

@flamencodiva @hobby27 @sucker-for-dean @deans-baby-momma @squirrelgirl67 @death-unbecomes-you @snffbeebee @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @spnbaby-67 @akshi8278 @musiclovinchic93 @vicmc624 @carryon-doctor-lock @perpetualabsurdity @herscrunchiehairtie @spnwoman @shamelesslydean @monkeymcpoopoo @winchestergirl82 @luciathewinchestergirl @deansyahtzee @thatgirl1456 @sucker-for-dean @atomicloverdonkeyperson @screechingartisancashbailiff @akshi8278 @supernatural3002

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader drabble #dean winchester drabble #justkending #spn fanfic #dean winchester spn #dean winchester x you #spn dean winchester #drabble #spn drabble

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inez-winchester-cameron · 9 months

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"Could I Do This If I Was Drunk?"

↠Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

↠Summary: After returning late from a night out with your friends, you try to convince Dean you aren’t drunk. (FLUFF)

↠Notes: This is entirely based on a tik tok I saw, it’s not word for word by any means though

Dean stood in front of you, arms crossed, looking down on you as you tried to defend yourself. His stance reminded you of a father’s when he’s preparing to scold his daughter. His eyebrow raised, “You tryin’ to tell me you’re not drunk?”

“I-I’m not-!” You tried, your words slightly slurring together. You weren’t blackout, but you weren’t sober either.

“Uh-huh,” Dean asked, taking in your appearance, “I’ll ask you once more, how much did you have to drink, sweetheart?” Dean wasn’t mad, just concerned about the fact that he had no idea how much you had to drink.

“Three,” you replied.

“Three what?”

“Three.” You reaffirmed and Dean sighed, and that’s where things started going south for you. You thought for a moment, deciding how to defend yourself. After a moment, you began step-dancing, nearly falling in the process.

Dean reached out to catch you and helped you back to your steady feet, “What the hell are you doing, baby?”

“Step-dancing, could I step-dance if I was drunk?” You asked, beginning to do it again. This time you didn’t fall but Dean watched with concerned eyes. His mouth formed a thin line, trying not to chuckle at you.

“Babe, you are most definitely drunk.”

“Am not,” you tried to do it again but almost fell again. Dean gently grabs your arm, helping you stay steady.

“Okay, babe, you’re not drunk. Let’s go cuddle and watch some T.V., hm?” Dean gently coaxed you inside.

#winchester #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #spn #dean winchester drabble #spn drabble #dean winchester fluff #fluff

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winchestergirl2 · 6 months

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It's Halloween

Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Charlie and Y/N try to convince Sam, Dean, and Cas to go to a Halloween party.

A/N: Just a little idea I had that I thought might be fun. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: None

Divider by @silkholland

"Come on Sam it’ll be fun," Charlie said, still trying to convince him to join them at the Halloween party. "Do I have to?" Sam replied. "Cmon man, it's Halloween," Dean added, entering the room stuffing candy in his mouth, "Yeah, and you know how I feel about Halloween... ok, fine, but I'm not dressing up!"

"Yes!" Charlie exclaimed, hugging Sam in excitement. Turning to y/n, "Come on I’ve got an idea," pulling you towards the stairs of the bunker.

"Do you really think we can convince the guys they need to dress up for this party? I really don’t think Sam is going to go for this." "He will when he realises what little effort he has to put into it," Charlie said, turning around and holding up a selection of costumes.

"Are you sure about this?" Y/n asked, looking at what Charlie was holding, "Absolutely it’s going to be great! Go try your outfit on," Shoeing y/n off to the dressing room. "Charlie, do we really need to buy them though couldn’t we just rent some costumes?"

"Of course we need to buy them this way you get to wear it again whenever you... or someone else likes, " she teased with a knowing wink. Y/n rolled her eyes at her friends comment with a grin and headed back into the changing room.

Ignoring Dean and y/n Charlie turned her attention to Sam. "Come on Sam it’s almost like you’re not even wearing a costume," she pleaded with him. "Yeah, and you’ve already got the hair for it," y/n shouted, earning a smirk and chuckle from Dean. "Please, Sam," Charlie continued. Sam looked between them and finally relented, "ok fine I’ll wear it this once!" Charlie squealed in excitement as she and y/n jumped up to hug him.

Later back at the bunker, Charlie produced the costumes for the guys. "Group costumes, really?" Dean asked while Cas stood with his head slightly cocked to the side in confusion. Y/n looked at Dean and just shrugged, "It might be fun."

"Perfect!" Charlie exclaimed as they emerged from their rooms dressed as the Scooby gang.

"I’ve gone from fighting heavenly battles to dressing as a talking dog," Cas mumbled, "that’s the spirit," Charlie said, smiling.

Sam, Dean and y/n laughed.

"C’mon I look good in an ascot," Dean said as they all started to walk off, Sam laughed, shaking his head as he went.

"Yeah, you do," y/n whispered as she leaned in, winking at him. Dean grinned, grabbing you round the waist. "And you make a very hot Daphne," he said, leaning in to give you a kiss.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester drabble #spn fic #spn drabble #supernatural fic

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nayeliq1 · 10 months

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June 12th, prompt: Adventure

Grey has overtaken Dean's hair.

His skin has gone soft and wrinkly, his knees crack every time he crouches down, his steps have become slower, his arms weaker.

But that's okay, that's just what old age is like. He's just lucky he gets to experience it at all, and with Cas by his side - equally grey, equally wrinkly. Getting old really isn't all that bad when you get to watch the love of your life doing it alongside you.

Today, Jack has told them. Dean had known it was coming, it's alright.

"You ready?", Dean asks that night, a wrinkly hand searching for Cas' under the blanket.

"Yes." Cas squeezes his fingers, smiling calmly. And despite the lump in his throat, Dean isn't afraid, and he knows neither is Cas. "I've been ready for some time."

"I know, sweetheart."

"Are you scared?"

Dean's heart is beating a little too fast, but he shakes his head.

"Not really", he says truthfully. "Bit nervous, maybe. But hey, that's what imminent death will do to ya."

"It'll be fine, Dean." Cas pulls Dean's hand to his lips, presses a kiss to skin marked by age spots. "We'll be together in the Heaven our son built for us. If you know it's not the end, death is nothing but the next great adventure."

Cas is right, of course.

"And I can't wait to go on that adventure with you."

"See you soon", Cas smiles right before they close their eyes. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

Dean falls asleep with a feeling of peacefulness filling his whole body, and when he opens his eyes again, their bedroom is gone. He stands on a bridge surrounded by forest, body young and strong. Baby is there, but he doesn’t get in. He waits.

There's a shift in the breeze, a presence in his back.

"Hello, Dean."

And Dean smiles.

Let the adventure begin.

For @starcrosseddeancas Dreamy Drabbles

#this is far too long I'm so sorry #but eeeeeh we can let it get a bit out of hand as a land hurray on the last challenge day yeah?#dreamy drabbles #last day of dreamy drabbles #this went by so fast whut #destiel drabble #inspired by the ending of my fix-it fic #spn drabble #destiel ficlet #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #dean winchester gets to get old #as he deserved #cas is the love of deans life yall #drabble prompt: adventure #soft destiel #destiel fluff #my writing

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alexsoenomel · 3 months

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POV: Dating Dean Winchester

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strawlessandbraless · 3 months

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Cas gets addicted to paying The Sims, he creates a Dean Sim and punishes him in game anytime they fight in real life. Inevitably Dean finds out and they have wild creaky passionate sex about it

#supernatural #destiel crack #gay #spn #dean winchester #the sims #destiel #castiel #deancas #misha collins #jensen ackles #spn crack #spn headcanon #destiel headcanon #ao3 #destiel drabble #spn drabble

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kaleldobrev · 3 months

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Blush

Pairing: Dean Winchester/F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader & Dean Winchester

Summary: For the first time in your life, you can say you’ve made Dean Winchester blush

Word Count: 389

Warnings: Cursing (1x), Mutual Pining (hinted), Pure Fluff & Embarrassed!Dean

Authors Note: Happy 45th birthday Dean Winchester ♡ | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

You sighed as you watched the coffee maker slowly pour out the dark brown liquid that you so desperately craved, despite it being two in the morning.

Like normal after a hunt, for the life of you, you couldn't sleep. You had tossed and turned for the better part of two hours before you finally said, "fuck it," and came into the kitchen; making yourself a cup of coffee because why not? You were already wired from the adrenaline anyway.

As the coffee started to finish pouring itself into the carafe, you reached up into the cabinet above and grabbed your favorite mug; grateful that Dean had washed it for you after using it.

Taking the carafe in hand, you slowly poured the liquid into your mug, slightly inhaling the scent as you did so; before you sat down on the small kitchen table against the wall.

As you sipped your coffee, you heard footsteps coming from the other end of the hall — Dean — you could recognize the sounds of his footsteps from anywhere.

Walking into the kitchen, Dean smiled at you, and gestured to the mug that was currently still stationed in your hands. "Couldn't sleep either uh?" He asked, and you nodded in response.

"Always jealous that Sam can just conk out after a hunt," you said, as you started playing with the rim of your mug. "There's still some coffee left if you want any," you offered.

"Thanks," he nodded. At first, he wasn't going to take you up on your offer, but decided that he would, as his body was still full of adrenaline much like yourself. "Listen," he began, as he took the carafe and started pouring coffee into his mug. "If you ever find yourself unable to sleep, my door is always open."

A small smile formed on your lips at his offer. "Thanks. Might actually take you up on that sometime if you're being serious."

"Of course I'm serious," he said; his tone indicating that he was slightly offended by your comment. "We're...friends," the word friends coming off rather hesitant sounding.

"Just friends?" You teased, raising a brow. Dean's face went slightly flush then, almost embarrassed by your comment. You couldn't help but smile at the pinkness of his cheeks, finding it adorable that you had managed to make Dean Winchester blush.

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#Dean Winchester x you #Dean Winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #SPN one shot #SPN Drabble #SPN drabbles #SPN imagine #supernatural one shot #supernatural Drabble #supernatural drabbles #supernatural imagine #dean x you #dean x reader #reader insert #female reader #happy birthday dean winchester

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hauntedpearl · 10 months

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Prompts Days 7&8: Tied-Up + Adventure for @starcrosseddeancas

"Do you miss it?"

They're leaning against the railing of the back porch, shoulder to shoulder. The lake stretches out before them, glinting in the moonlight, a world of glass.

His brother's asleep somewhere upstairs, but Dean hadn't been able to sleep. Cas had found him here, after a while. Had stayed.

Now, he's looking at him, curious. Waiting.

"No," Dean says, "I don't know. Maybe."

Cas laughs, soft and low, and Dean basks in the warmth of it.

"I don't miss the pain, you know? Getting beaten, tied-up, shot at, whatever. But sometimes —" Dean sighs. Runs a hand through his hair. (Sometimes he's just — restless.) "I don't know."

Cas hums. Presses his shoulder against Dean's.

"Do you?"

"No," Cas says. Then, "I don't know. Maybe."

"Cas."

"I—" Cas turns his face skyward, closes his eyes. Picks the words from the air with a smile on his face. Dean watches his profile, limned in silver light, and waits.

"I think about the things I could've done differently. The mistakes I made." He turns to Dean, shrugs. "But we've closed that chapter of our lives and — and I don't want to go back. I like this, whatever we've made of it. It's just — something new. A different kind of adventure."

Dean looks at him, at the softness in his eyes, the bittersweet uptick of his mouth. He could lean forward, kiss the corner of that mouth, and he wants to. But he doesn't do it.

Not yet, he thinks, not just yet.

"Yeah," he says, smiling back at Cas. "A different kind of adventure."

(Thinks, but soon. Real, real soon.)

#dreamydrabble #doe's writing #spn drabble #destiel #post canon #whatever fluff whatever #they haven't talked about it yet btw #UH. HAPPY LAKEHOUSE ENDGAME?

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my-proof-is-you · 1 month

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Don’t Worry About Me

Anon Request: hi! could you do a sam imagine where he’s been really stressed with work/researching for a big hunt, y/n can’t sleep and sees him still awake and tries to make him feel better? maybe some hidden feelings for both of them?? just really fluffy cute stuff please!! thank you! i love your work!

Sam x Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for this prompt, Anon! I loved writing this. I decided to make the research about the Mark of Cain but other than that stuck pretty close to the request! Enjoy!

You

You laid in bed, blinking your wide-open eyes at the ceiling. Sleep was just not coming for you that night, and you were pretty sure you knew why.

Ever since Dean was healed of being a demon, the three of you had been stuck in your search to remove the Mark of Cain from his arm. And while Dean insisted he was fine, you and Sam knew the truth. The Mark was tearing him apart.

It had become the main topic of conversation for you and Sam when Dean wasn’t around. Sam spent nearly all his time researching when he wasn’t on hunts. You did what you could to help, but it had also fallen to you to hang out with Dean as a distraction. And, to be honest, as a guardian.

You trusted Dean with your life, but it was clear on hunts that he was becoming sort of unhinged. Dean already hated himself enough for what he did as a demon. You weren’t going to let him do anything else to add to that.

That meant spending less time with Sam, though. It was hard not being around him. You missed talking about lore with him; joking about your favorite books and movies; sharing about things from your past you’d never shared with anyone, and him doing the same; you missed the way he smelled of pine and books.

You just missed him.

And while everyone was worried about Dean—and rightfully so—no one was worrying about Sam.

No one, that was, but you.

In reality, that was what was keeping you awake at 3:46 in the morning. Every time your lids slid closed, you’d just see beautiful hazel eyes filled with concern staring back at you, and your own eyes would snap back open.

Sam was your best friend. You couldn’t lose that, no matter what. That was the main reason you hadn’t told him that your feelings for him went a little deeper.

Okay, maybe a lot deeper.

You rolled out of bed, finally giving up on the idea of sleep. You padded down the hall in your little sleep shorts and t-shirt, slipping your arms through the sleeves of one of Sam’s softest flannels you’d nabbed a while ago. You hugged it around yourself against the chill of the bunker’s hard floors and walls.

You stepped down into the kitchen, fully intent on starting a pot of coffee, only to see a half-full pot already sitting on the warming plate. You shook your head as you poured yourself a mug, not all that surprised at the sight, and knowing what you’d find when you made your way into the library.

As expected, Sam sat at one of the tables hunched over an old tome. His laptop was open next to him, the blue light reflecting in his eyes as he skimmed the pages. He looked exhausted, and your heart broke at the thought of how hard he was working with so few results. You sighed, alerting him of your presence. Enough was enough.

Sam

Sam lifted his bleary eyes when he heard a small sigh from the entryway of the library. Even though he could see the worry etched on your face, he couldn’t help but notice the ebb of the stress he’d been feeling just from your presence.

You’d always done that for him. Something about you was just able to calm him, even in some of the worst times he’d experienced. And he’d experienced some really shitty times.

His breath caught in his throat when he focused his eyes on what you were wearing. Your tiny sleep shorts showed off your toned, tanned legs. You had a fitted t-shirt on (with no bra, Sam couldn’t help but notice), and to top it all off you were wearing one of his flannels.

That made something deep inside him flare up with pride.

Only problem was that you weren’t even his.

You were Sam’s best friend, he reminded himself. That was all you were, no matter how much he wanted it to be more.

Besides—he was pretty sure you had feelings for his brother. You’d spent so much time with him lately, trying to keep him from giving in to the Mark, Sam knew there was probably something going on between you. He couldn’t even blame you. His brother was a great person, even if he was currently struggling.

Sam had been researching non-stop for how to get that fucking Mark off his brother. He had only found dead ends, and it was wearing on him. He was exhausted, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually choose to sleep instead of research. In fact, many times, his body did the choosing for him. You’d shaken him awake multiple times when you’d found him with his head down on the library table, drooling away after being unable to keep his eyes open.

Tired as he was, though, he couldn’t help but give you a sheepish smile.

“Sam, c’mon, you should be sleeping,” you said without much conviction in your voice. He knew it was what you really thought, but that you understood why he was still up.

“I could say the same about you,” he said, stretching his arms above his head. He reached for his now-cold mug of coffee and took a sip anyway, recoiling slightly at the temperature.

You padded over slowly, setting your own mug down on the table before walking to stand in front of Sam with your arms crossed over your chest. “I couldn’t sleep,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek.

Sam nodded, looking up at you and pursing his lips. “Worrying about Dean?”

You shook your head. “Worrying about you.”

”Me? I’m fine, Y/N/N,” he replied, trying to ignore the way his heart swelled at the thought of your concern for him.

You sighed again. “You’re not fine. None of us are,” you said, shrugging one shoulder.

“Well, you really don’t need to worry about me, Y/N. We should be focused on Dean.”

Sam’s heart thudded loudly in his chest as you walked closer to him, coming to stand between his legs. “I don’t want to focus on Dean right now,” you said. You raised a hand to his face, cradling his cheek. Sam couldn’t help but lean into your comforting touch.

Something in him made him reach his hands for your hips, pulling you even closer. His inner voice screamed at him that it was a mistake, but he was just too tired to care.

You slid your hand down to his chin, lifting it so that Sam would meet your beautiful Y/E/C eyes. He was enraptured by your soft features; the way your eyes shined, the rosy glow of your cheeks, the way your hair fell in waves that framed your face.

“I want to focus on you,” you said quietly. You lifted your legs, your knees coming to rest on either side of his hips so that you were straddling his lap. His hands slid from your hips to your lower back as your hands found their way around his neck and your fingers tangled in his hair.

Your eyes darted between his and down to his lips. He couldn’t even hear over the beat of his own heart. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

You leaned in, gently touching your lips to his. He sank into the kiss, unable to stop himself even if he’d wanted to.

Your lips moved together, the kiss soft but urgent. Sam’s fingers dug into your hips, eliciting a small gasp from you. He was ready to give in to the carnal desire the sound gave him until he remembered that voice screaming at him in his head.

“Y/N,” he said, pulling away and panting. “You don’t have to do this.”

Your brow furrowed and you looked at him with questions in your eyes. “What do you mean?”

”You said you wanted to focus on me. You’re trying to make me feel better, to make me less stressed. I get it. But…I can’t do this. Not when it doesn’t mean the same thing to you as it does to me.”

You visibly deflated. “Oh. This—this is just me comforting you, then?”

Sam was confused. He had been sure that was all you were doing. But based on your reaction…could he dare to hope?

You moved to get up but Sam tightened his grip on your hips to still you. “You’re not just comforting me,” he stated.

You shook your head.

“You want me?” He asked, keeping his voice as even as possible. You looked nervous, biting your bottom lip.

But you nodded.

Sam felt a smile grow on his face. “Then we’re on the same page,” he said softly, using one hand to cup your face, his long fingers threading into your hair.

You nodded yet again, a small smile finding its way to your lips.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N,” he said, unable to hold it in any longer.

You leaned in, kissing him again in a way that took his breath away.

“I love you, too,” you said, pullling away. You stood up, grabbing his hand to pull him up from his seat. You placed your hands on his chest, looking up at him through your lashes. “Follow me. Let’s go to bed.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Yes, to sleep. I’m going to hold you in my arms and play with your hair and you’re going to sleep.”

Sam sighed, incredibly happy to hear your plan, even if it wasn’t to have sex.

“Besides, we have plenty of time for the other stuff. I’m nowhere near done with you, Winchester,” you said, backing up and tugging his hand again.

Sam groaned with a laugh, following you down the hall. He looked forward to sleeping with you in both senses of the word.

And he would follow you anywhere.

Forevers:

#supernatural fanfiction #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #spn fanfic #supernatural imagine #sam winchester #angst #sam winchester x you #sam/you #sam x reader #fluff #sam winchester/you #spn fanfiction #spn imagine #spn drabble #supernatural fandom #supernatural family

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