#dean x reader
Imagine...Your Anniversary With Dean
Summary: The reader is miffed that Dean’s been away all day on their anniversary but he makes it up to her in a big way...
Pairing: Dean x reader
Word Count: 649
A/N: Written for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo!
“Dean,” you said, finding him outside of the bunker, leaning against Baby as he watched the clouds roll by. He hummed and you stomped your foot on the ground. “You’ve been gone all day, ignored all of my calls and texts...it’s our anniversary. Did you even remember?”
He held out his hand behind himself, making a grabby hand at you. You huffed but he continued to extend it out, turning it upside down and back. You rolled your eyes and walked around the side of the car, crossing your arms. He smirked softly as he looked at you, his cheeks getting redder and redder.
“What?” you said.
“Trust me?” You sighed but nodded.
“Why are you blushing?” you asked. He put a finger on your lips and smiled. “I don’t get to know?”
“You’ll know in a bit,” he said. He tugged you over in front of him, pressing your back to his chest, holding his arms around your waist.
“So what are we looking at?” you asked.
“You’ll know,” he said, kissing your temple. “Patience.”
“Looks like I’m staring at dirt and brush, you know, like normal.” He shushed you, sliding a hand over your mouth.
“Been working on this all day, sassy. Just wait a little while longer.”
“How’d you know I would come outside?”
“I know what I’m doing,” he said. You tilted your head back, Dean kissing your lips. He felt warm around you on the cool November evening. The sun was setting, sky full of pinks and oranges. You settled back into him, resting your head on his shoulder when you heard a small sound. Suddenly a streak shot up into the sky from the field and exploded, a large bright red firework going off. Another smaller pink one went next, a smile growing on your face. He hummed as you both looked up, watching one after another, some slow, some rapid, some so bright it lit up the whole sky. You grinned when a heart appeared, falling down just as another went up.
That’s when you saw letters start appearing. First an M, then an A and an R and before you knew it you were wide eyed and Dean was down on one knee next to you. You turned to him when the fireworks ended, a worried little smile on his cheeks. You nodded and he hopped up, picking you up and hugging you tight.
“I thought you didn’t care about getting married,” you said.
“Well you’re mine and I’m not letting you go. I figured I might as well make it official. As much as it can be anyway.”
“You’re still blushing,” you said, tickling his cheek. He planted a big kiss on you as he set you down, another firework going off. You glanced up and saw a question mark, Dean chuckling.
“Almost nailed that timing,” he said.
“It was perfect,” you said. He cocked his head, biting his bottom lip. “You’re adorable and I love you.”
“Yes I am,” he said, pecking another fast kiss on you. “I love you too, sweetheart. Would you like to see the other part of your evening?”
“Yes please,” you said.
“Not mad at me anymore?”
“No. Not when you’re gone because you’re doing something like that,” you said. You rocked back on your heels and hummed. “What’s the surprise?”
“Dinner reservations for eight and then we’ll travel just out of town and have a cozy little cabin I’ve rented to spend the weekend and yes, because I knew you’d ask, it has running water and electricity and a fridge and a king size bed. How’s that sound for a surprise?”
“You’re nailing this fiance thing,” you said. He smiled and hugged you again, picking you up and carrying you back towards the bunker.
“Come on. Let’s go get dressed and get started on that whole forever thing.”
“Your sap, sweetheart. Always.”
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: Enemies to lovers, language, dirty talk, oral, office sex, a hint of sub!Dean who turns into switch!Dean
A/N: This was written for @cockslut-padalecki’s 11 sentences challenge. The prompt I chose was: “I’m so sick of your voice. Why don’t you come over here and put your mouth to better use?”
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Once again, they’re in the middle of an argument.
It’s what they do, really, and even if Dean infuriates her to no end, Y/N thinks that she doesn’t want to have it any other way.
The words that are spilling out of his mouth right now, are as always, ridiculous, and Dean’s not stopping because he starts to gesture with his hands as he paces around the little office they’re sharing, so she does what she probably should have done a long time ago in order to effectively shut him up; Y/N starts to strip off her pencil skirt and let it carefully slide down her smooth legs before stepping out of them, of course she leaves on her heels, for good measure.
While Dean paces around, he catches her in his periphery and he stops mid-sentence to do a double-take, as if he wants to make sure that he’s seeing right but when his brain finally catches up to him, he just stares at her, jaw slack, “What are you doing? And god, why don’t you wear any underwear?”
“Distracting you,” she states matter of factly, grinning cockily before sitting down in her office chair but she moves it and turns it around a little so he’s getting the full view, “Does it work?”
“I-I wasn’t done.” Dean swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing, his eyes raking from her face down to her bare pussy.
“Oh, please,” Y/N snorts before spreading her legs, opening wide for him, her cunt glistening, because yeah, their spitting fight is always such a turn on for her, and the only reason she’s not wearing any underwear is that she doesn’t want to ruin her panties every goddamn day, “I’m so sick of your voice. Why don’t you come over here and put your mouth to better use?”
“Fuck,” Dean curses but he strides over as fast as his bowed legs would take him before he gets right down on his knees in front of her, “Always wanted to know how you taste, Y/N,” he mumbles as he noses against her clit, inhaling her scent obscenely. His freckled face inches from her center, warm breath fanning over her slick pussy, “Should have don—” he tries to say but her fingers bury into the thick of his hair, gripping them tightly, nails digging into his scalp as she pushes his face into her awaiting cunt because she’s indeed so sick of hearing him talk.
“Mmmh,” she coos, both hands now in his hair and Dean’s big wide tongue licks up her slit before he twirls it expertly around her clit, simultaneously nibbling and sucking at it, “Such a good boy, Dean.”
“Hhm,” he hums, sucking her whole clit into his mouth only to let it bounce back with a lewd pop before he flickers the tip of his tongue on her sensitive nub, causing her to squeal when she unexpectedly comes way too quick, making him peek up at her through his lashes, his face wet from her cum and a grin so cocky she wants to wipe it off with a kiss, “Hope you’re not tired yet, because I’m not fucking done with you,” he growls before diving into her cunt again, eating her out like a starving man.
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The Right Man
Pairings: Dean x Reader
Requested: I was thinking after a hunt, the Winchesters and reader go to a bar. Eventually, the reader leaves to her own hotel room with a guy. Dean gets annoyed/jealous and leaves to go pick up dinner. As dean comes back with food, he knocks on her door (knowing she’s trying to hook up), only to be greeted with her half dressed and kicking the guy out because of his failed attempts to satisfy her. Dean pushes his way into the hotel room and teases her about it. She’s annoyed and sexually frustrated and it leads to smut with Dean and maybe some fluff at the end. Hope this makes sense! Thank you!
Thank you for the request! I hope you like it!
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Tonight was supposed to be the night that Dean told you how he felt, he was finally going to confess, but things did not go according to plan.
It was only twenty minutes into the night before you were flirting with another man, your hands touching his arm, the fakest laugh escaping your mouth, your lips on his, it drove Dean crazy.
It drove him even more crazy when you turned towards him and smiled a knowing smile, flashing him the cutest little wink and exiting the bar with the strange man you just met.
He knew he had no right to be angry, you weren't his. You two have never even kissed for that matter, but he wanted to. He wanted to be the one you come home to, to hold you at night and kiss every inch of your body, he wanted that. And he didn't feel like the random jerk at the bar deserved that, not even for one night.
After you left, Dean shot back the rest of his drink and dropped money on the counter before heading out. He didn't really know what his plan was, but he couldn't just sit there and imagine you with.. him.
So he picked up dinner from your favorite fast food restaurant and made his way to your motel room. Yes, it was a cheap shot. Yes, it was wrong for him to interrupt your night but he couldn't handle it.
He put the car in park and looked at your door, the light was on which was a good sign. He climbed out of the car and grabbed the bags, making his way to your door.
He was about to knock when the door swung open, you were standing there in just your T-shirt, anger radiating all over your features. You didn't even acknowledge Dean being there, you were too angry.
You grabbed the man's arm and shoved him out of the room, he wasn't even wearing his clothes and it made Dean laugh quite a bit.
"Baby, c'mon!" He shouted, trying to step back into the door.
You quickly stepped out, shoving his chest backwards as he clung onto the sheet around his waist.
"Don't baby me, I'm not your baby. You don't even know what a damn clit is, get the fuck out of here."
Dean had to turn away to not burst into laughter, watching how the guy's head dropped in embarrassment and he started to leave.
You quickly threw his clothes outside for him before heading back into the room, leaving the door open for Dean to come inside.
And he quickly did, closing the door after him, he cringed at the scene of whatever happened in here earlier. Messed up sheets, your clothing spread out on the floor, it killed him but it seemed like it killed you more.
"So, having a good night?" He joked around, setting the food on the table and making the bed less... graphic.
"Ha! Yeah such a good night. The guy thinks your clit is your vagina I swear to god."
He chuckled lightly and lifted his head, "Well, they are pretty close together."
You narrowed your eyes and put your hands on your hips, giving Dean your best "Don't fuck with me" face that made him chuckle.
He stood and lifted his hands in surrender, approaching you slowly.
"I'm sorry, that must suck. I don't know what it's like for a girl, but I know guys are super easy to get off, ladies are more of a puzzle."
"Yeah and that guy had the smallest piece I've ever seen."
Dean's eyes shot wide and his mouth dropped before bursting into laughter. "Damn sweetheart, you are on fire today."
You couldn't help but giggle as you sat down on the bed, frustration filling you.
"I just.... man, I don't do this. I don't go to bars and look for hookups, I don't even like random guys their so cocky and arrogant and selfish. I just wanted a fun night, maybe get off for once! Is that too much to ask?"
Dean stayed silent, unsure of what to say. The whole topic was making his belly turn and his palms sweaty.
"Like is it so hard to make a girl cum or is it just me? Because I haven't in... God, I don't even know how long. Not with my ex, not with the random hookups, not on my own. What does a girl have to do to have an orgasm around here?"
He swallowed hard and pushed his head down, if you didn't shut up he was going to take you right here and now, you needed to stop talking.
"Dean, what is it? Is it me?" You questioned, causing his head to shoot up.
"God no, no it's not you sweetheart. It's men, especially most men in bars, they don't care about the woman's pleasure, they only care about themselves and that's not right."
You sighed and laid back on the bed, accidently giving Dean perfect view of your panties and god he was almost trembling.
"Maybe I should just buy a vibrator and have that be my boyfriend."
He gulped and moved closer, he tried not to look at anything inappropriate but his eyes wouldn't let him look away.
"Y-Yeah, but that would suck having to hold the thing the entire time, you know... dropping it when your... close." He whispered, moving closer, his hand moving to your knee.
You lifted your head up, "What do I do than?"
He smirked and licked his lips, facing your eyes as he moved even closer. "You find the right guy."
"Mhm, the right guy will know how to touch you..."
His hand moved from your knee down your thigh making you shiver to the touch.
"He will know how to make your body tremble before he even touches you..."
His hand moved lower, ghosting on top of the shirt, right above your aching core.
"He will make you scream. Make the neighbors know his name... He will pull orgasm after orgasm out of you because one is just not enough for him..."
You trembled as your hand came to his, moving it underneath your shirt right on top of your clothed pussy.
Dean groaned and inched closer, his fingers playing with the waistband.
"A-And how will he do that?" You questioned.
He smirked as his fingers dipped inside, moving down to your soaking wet folds.
"He will find that sweet spot that makes your toes curl, your head spin and ungodly noises escape your mouth and he will focus on it. Pressing on it over... and over...."
You arched your back up when his fingers finally entered you, a content sigh escaping your mouth.
He chuckled lightly and moved his hands, pulling your panties down slowly, slow enough that you could change your mind if you wanted but god, that's the last thing you wanted to do right now.
Dean moved closer, laying on his stomach and hooking your legs over his shoulders. He blew a breath on your pussy before pushing his fingers inside once again, his tongue moving to lick a strip from the bottom straight to your clit.
You moaned loudly, louder than you have ever moaned before, Dean knew exactly what he was doing.
He chuckled and pressed his face to your pussy, eating like a starved man. His tongue flicked back and forth, up and down as his fingers pumped in and out, over and over again.
"Oh god.. Dean!" You screamed, your hands moving to his hair as you tugged rather roughly, making him groan into your pussy.
You were so close, so very close but this was the part that men usually let you down, and you just knew Dean was going to get you there, he wasn't like other men.
His hands moved to your hips, pulling you down so you were almost on top of his face, his tongue moved faster as did his fingers, he was going to force it out of you, and you couldn't wait. Your vision started to blur and your head was spinning, it was coming and god you hoped you'd be able to.
Dean lifted his head slightly, "Cum for me sweetheart, cum on my face."
His words rang in your ears, just enough to push you to the edge as you raced towards release. Your grip tightened and you were literally trembling underneath him.
When you finally started to come down, Dean's movements didn't stop. In fact, he started going faster and harder, determined to pull another out of you.
"D-Dean... you can stop now." You giggled.
He shook his head and lifted to face you, "Nope, like I said... the right man will keep pulling them out of you because god, one is definitely not enough sweetheart."
Your head dropped back and pleasure coursed through your body, you were already on edge, already close as hell and he barely did anything.
He moaned into your pussy as he licked every inch of you, pushing his tongue deep inside and than moving to suck your clit. You could feel the coil inside tightening, another was coming and it was coming fast but this time it felt different, more intense.
You tightened on his fingers, screams escaping your throat as you gripped onto his hair.
"Yes... that's it baby, come on. Give me another one."
Your voice went silent, your head pushed back and the coil snapped, the feeling of the orgasm exploding between your legs and that's when you felt it. The rush of liquid trickling down your thighs. You froze, there was no way you just...
You lifted your head and faced Dean, a shocked smile spread across his features as he licked his fingers. "Whoa, you just.... mmm." He smirked, climbing over your body to face you.
"I... i've never done that before..." You whispered.
He groaned as he moved between your legs, pushing his now hard cock against you making you whimper. "I'm glad I could be your first. Now, we could stop or I could fuck you until you cum a third time."
You gulped and nodded, moving your hands down to the front of his pants, "Fuck me."
He nodded and pushed down his pants and boxers, lining himself up with your enterence. He barely pushed in, waiting to see if you'd change your mind. Your legs wrapped around his back as you pulled him in towards you, forcing him inside in one thrust.
He moaned deep in his throat, lowering his head to your neck as he kissed and nibbled all over. His hands moved to your breasts, squeezing and pinching the skin.
Everything he was doing was perfect, it was just getting you more and more riled up. He leaned on his arms above you before slowly leaning down and kissing your lips.
That... that was different, amazing, perfect.
That's when you realized this wasn't just a fun time, this wasn't a friend helping a friend or a vulnerble hook up, Dean was telling you that he loved you and he was doing it through touch.
Your hand came to the back of his head, pulling him down onto your lips, deepening the kiss, sliding yout tounge inside and swirling it with his.
He groaned and thrusted faster, deeper while he fucked your mouth with his tongue, he needed this just as much as you did-maybe even more.
You were practically screaming his name as he pounded inside of you, every thrust he hit that sweet spot he was talking about and he was right. Your toes were curling and your head was spinning, you could feel yourself getting close again and by the way he was panting, he was too.
His hand slid down your body finding the sensitive nub between your legs as he started to rub it. You pushed your head back into the pillows, gasps and strangled moans falling from your lips making Dean fall apart.
"God... sweetheart I can't hold on much longer, please..."
You opened your eyes, a lazy smirk playing on your face, "Please what?"
"Please give me one more, cum with me..."
You moaned at his words and moved his hand harder between your legs, his eyes widening and gaps escaping his mouth.
"God... fuck your amazing.."
Your moans turned into breaths of air, you couldn't hold on any longer and you were ready to snap.
You hugged his shoulders tight as you started to let go, Dean quickly joining you.
"God... shit! F-Fuck!" He groaned, releasing inside of you as his head pressed against your forhead.
When you two finally came down, you fully expected Dean to get up and leave, but instead he just laid beside you, opening his arms for you to climb into.
He wrapped his arms around you tightly, kissing your forhead over and over again. "By the way sweetheart, I wanted to tell you that I have feelings for you..."
You giggled and turned to face him, "Really? I would have never guessed."
He chuckled back and shoved your shoulder.
"I have feelings for you too Dean, I have for a while."
"Good. So no more lame hookups?"
You shook your head and pressed your lips to his cheek gently, watching how he blushed at the small action.
"Nope, only you know how to make me cum.... 3 times?"
He winked and sighed contently, "Yeah it was a slow night, next time it will be double that, don't worry."
You giggled and closed your eyes, letting yourself be absorbed by Dean Winchester, the love of your life. You finally felt fulfilled and complete, just like he did.
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No More Holding Back
Pairing: Doctor!Dean Winchester x Reader
Requested: Yes, by anon
Summary: When a familiar face is wheeled into the ER, Dean finds himself finally asking the question he’d been holding back on.
Word Count: 1,352
Warnings: mention of car accident, injuries, blood
A/N: Sorry it took so long! First try at doctor!dean so I hope this turned out well/okay!
DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST
Dean pushed the glass doors open, the smell of coffee already hitting him through the crack in the door and he smiled as he stepped in, his eyes falling on you. Your hair was tied into a ponytail as it normally was when you were working the coffee machine, your eyes were focused on the task you had in front of you, so much that you didn’t look up even when the entrance bell rang.
“Hot Latte for Liz!” You called out, setting the coffee on the counter, turning to glance at the next order when you noticed him in the queue. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you turned to grab a new cup to start his coffee even though he hadn’t ordered.
Dean had been coming in to get his coffee for the longest time, and you remembered because you’d made a joke about him coming all the way here to get his coffee when they had a perfectly good café in the hospital. In turn, Dean had made another joke, “Maybe I’m here for more than just the coffee.”
Just like that time passed, Dean coming in everyday at least once if not twice to get his coffee. He’d say something funny, you’d return the banter, there was obvious flirting, but nothing more. Your co-workers had been bugging you to ask him out first, but you’d never really done anything about it.
“Hey Doctor.” You smiled, handing him his coffee as he reached the counter.
Dean smiled back, his green eyes twinkling back at you as he laughed. “Told you it’s more than just the coffee.” He winked, raising his coffee cup in a gesture of thanks before he left.
It had been a pretty crazy day in the emergency room, as if today was a day for accidents. Nothing that had been too serious, but they’d taken up a lot of time - lacerations from kitchen accidents, head trauma from falling off his own roof, and the list went on.
“Incoming Peds vs Auto!” The charge nurse yelled and Dean nodded, pulling on fresh gloves and running towards the ambulance bay.
“Jane Doe, hit at the traffic light by an SUV. We intubated on scene, probably has multiple fractures.” The paramedic told Dean and he nodded, before his eyes fell on the patient’s face and he froze.
“Y/N?” Your name slipped past his lips, like a shiver, and Dean felt stuck in his own head, his body merely moving out of habit.
“Dr Winchester?” One of the nurses called, snapping him back to attention and he looked back down at you.
“Y/N.” Dean bent close, so his lips were almost touching your ear. “I got you, alright?”
Dean looked up now, barking instructions, his instinct as a doctor taking over. “I need the X-ray in here and an ultrasound!”
He turned his head, “She’s bleeding into her belly and she’s got multiple fractures as well. Someone page Ortho, get me Dr Welch and we need to get this patient up to an OR. Now!” Dean barked.
He leaned forward discreetly and squeezed your hand. “Hang in there.” He whispered.
You’d been rushed into the OR.
Dean had been a little worried about keeping his head in the OR, but he also knew he was the best person for the job and he was right. There'd been more bleeding than any of the doctors had anticipated and Dean even had to pause just for a while, to think, to make sure he didn’t panic about the real possibility of you bleeding out on his table.
Dean turned to look at his friend and colleague from where he was leaning against your room door watching you. He’d been thinking about how he should have asked you out, how maybe he should have told you how he felt, while the rational part of his brain had reminded him that you were going to be okay.
“You know her, don’t you?” Welch’s voice was a mixture of curiosity and reproach.
Dean shrugged. “Kind of.” He glanced at his friend. “We’re barely on first name basis, really.”
Welch’s eyes bore through Dean. “But you care about her.” It was a statement of observation more than a question and Dean knew it as well.
Dean smiled and nodded, answering him anyway. “Yeah, I do.”
You opened your eyes gingerly, your head still pounding, before you realized someone else was here with you.
You looked up, straight into the bright green eyes of your favourite customer.
You could see him smile, before you realised you’d called him by his first name, like a slip of the tongue. You frowned now, wondering if this was actually a dream.
Dean smiled. “You’re in the hospital, alright? I just got you out of surgery a few hours ago.”
Your frown deepened and Dean just smiled. “Is there anyone I can call for you?”
“You… Wait, what?”
Dean chuckled and leaned in a little closer, his arms resting on the bar at the side of your bed. “You scared the hell out of me, I thought I was gonna lose you in there.”
You smiled. “So you saved my life?”
Dean smiled. “Barely.”
You could see a tinge of actual worry in his eyes, hidden just slightly by his smile and if you hadn’t been looking close enough, you might have missed it.
“Thank you.” You whispered, smiling back up at him. “Guess I owe you my life now, huh?”
Dean smiled now, the worry replaced with a cheeky glint in his eye.
“Is there anyone you want me to call?” Dean asked again.
You shook your head. “I don’t…” You paused, taking a breath. “I don’t have anyone.”
Dean paused, his eyes raking over you. “I’ll be here.”
You paused, looking at him, but feeling the warmth of having someone wash over you as you lay in a hospital bed. “You…”
Dean cleared his throat. “I’ll check in on you later, alright?”
He squeezed your hand reassuringly, an intimate gesture you didn’t miss and you smiled before nodding.
It was another week before you were finally let out of the hospital. Dean had kept you in to make sure there was no more internal bleeding but your arm had been set in a cast and you were just waiting for the official discharge papers.
You smiled as you saw Dean. He’d come by to see you everyday - even after his shift he’d appear in your room, out of his scrubs, sitting by you at least for an hour to chat and you felt this was the most that you’d ever spoken to him even though he’d been your best customer for a long time. You were also thankful, feeling like you really had someone in your corner.
“Are you here as my doctor?” You asked, the smile lingering on your face as you raised your eyebrows.
“Your doctor is here to hand you this.” He handed you the discharge papers and a bag of medication, which you knew full well a nurse could have brought to you.
“Now. Since you’re officially discharged…” Dean said, smiling and crossing his arms while looking at you.
You smiled, hoping that what you thought was coming, was actually coming.
“How do you feel about dinner? Maybe next week?”
You couldn’t even help the smile spreading across your face. “On me.”
You motioned for Dean to come closer before you pressed a paper into his hand. He looked down, smiling at your handwriting, where you’d scribbled your number.
“Prepared this in advance?” He teased gently.
“Shut up.” You retorted but you were still smiling. “Or give it back.”
“Uh-uh. No take backs.” Dean kept the piece of paper in his hand just out of your reach. “I’ll call.” He said, patting your head affectionately.
You just smiled, stepping forward to leave but not without leaning forward to give him a peck on the cheek.
“See you.” You whispered, smiling before you left the hospital, turning around to give Dean another small smile.
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The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship (Dean x Reader)
@wingedcatninja requested “Enemies to lovers with sub!Dean, please and thank you.” Also for @cockslut-padalecki and her Eleven Sentence Challenge! Prompt is bolded.
220 words, mature.
“This isn’t what I had in mind when I yelled ‘fuck you,’” Dean grits out, and you bite his lip before shoving him, making him stumble, sending him backwards until he falls onto the bed.
“Just take your fucking clothes off, Dean.”
He strips off his shirt obediently, and you climb on top of him, kneeling over him and tugging at his belt until you can get his pants down; his cock is just as nice — and thick — as you always assumed. When you drag your fingernails down his hips and thighs, hard enough to raise welts, it twitches visibly, pre-come beading at the flushed tip, and Dean groans.
“Doesn’t mean we’re friends,” he gasps.
“Duh,” you retort, with a scathing laugh, and you stand back up long enough to strip, hoping he can’t see the desire in your expression. “Shut up already and let me sit on your face.”
You’re almost surprised by the way he reacts to that: lashes fluttering, chest heaving with a harsh sucked-in breath, pretty mouth going slack.
“Do it,” he rasps. “Let me taste you, c’mon, want you to rub your sweet little cunt all over my tongue until you’re dripping down my chin.”
For the first time since you met Dean Winchester, you don’t feel any need to argue with him.
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My Favorite (Part 2)
Summary: The morning after is a bit awkward. As Y/N runs from talking about it, Dean decides they have to.
Characters: Dean x Female!Reader, Sam x OC!Gemma
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Nudity, Language, Crack, Chick-flick moments
A/N: This story is ridiculous, LOL! I don't even have an explanation for you.
Y/N groaned as she came to, her head pounding, reminding her of all the drink she'd had the night before. Drinking with Dean usually resulted in massive hangovers. She winced at the mere hint of light poking through the curtains. She moved to sit up, quickly realizing she was completely naked. She gasped before her eyes caught sight of Dean beside her.
He was sprawled out, also naked, and her eyes went wide when she saw his soft cock partially covered with a condom.
"Oh God," she groaned, forcing herself from the bed as she hastily searched around for her clothes, a mantra in her mind of fuck, fuck, FUCK!
The movement of Y/N leaving the mattress, combined with her scurrying about the room, brought Dean from his slumber. His head hurt. More than it had in a while, nights with Y/N always seemed to result in mornings like this. He remembered ordering the shots, then more, then more…then…he wasn't sure.
He slowly sat up, hearing quick footsteps and then a slam of the bathroom door as he opened his eyes.
Did I hook up?
He hoped not. That was the last thing he wanted. It was at that moment he realized his nakedness and the condom on his fucking dick.
"Oh c'mon," he groaned, rubbing his eyes and trying really hard to think back.
Shots, shots…then what?
He stood from the bed, rolling his eyes as he yanked the condom from his cock before pulling some boxers on.
The condom was empty. Looks like I did swell…
As he continued retrieving his clothes, he still racked his brains. He was sure he left the bar with Y/N, but he couldn't remember fully.
His eyes widened, and he froze. Laying next to his shirt was his mystery girls'.
"That's…" he mumbled, recognizing it instantly.
He always thought Y/N looked terrific in that one.
The bathroom door opened, and Y/N emerged, dressed once more in the cami and jeans she had on the night before. Her eyes briefly met Dean's, and she blushed hard, looking away as she went for her shirt.
"We should probably get back to the Bunker," she spoke with her back to him, "The others are probably wondering what happened to us."
Dean couldn't help but stare as his mind raced with a million questions, and he couldn't remember the answer to any of them.
"Th-they're not the only ones…" he mumbled.
"I don't know," Y/N admitted, grabbing her jacket from one of the chairs, "I don't remember much past getting here."
She did remember, right as she was dressing in the bathroom. But she figured if he didn't remember, she wasn't going to remind him. She almost let herself be another notch.
As Y/N put her jacket on, Dean's mind flashed with the image of her taking it off. He remembered them sitting on the bed…him saying she has a…big brain?
"…I think I do…remember…actually…." Dean muttered, his heart thudding erratically.
You're my favorite? Really Dean? That was the best you could do?
"I…said some things. Not very well. A-and we were going to…but…."
Y/N froze her body tense. She turned around, glancing at Dean and seeing the confusion and something else in his features.
"N-nothing happened," she said, too quickly. "I'm gonna go see if the office has coffee and check us out," she rambled, making her way out of the room and closing the door behind her before Dean could respond.
"Y/N!" Dean called after her, but it was too late.
Well, what does that mean? She ran the hell out of here!
He kicked himself, feeling like a total screw-up. He got too drunk, and she's gonna think it was just a drunk fuck.
He needed to talk to Sam. Try and work out some damage control.
Y/N returned, meeting him outside the room and passing him a small cup of coffee.
"Ready to go?" she asked.
Dean could see she was forcing herself to be casual as if nothing had happened.
"Yeah…" he said quietly, taking the cup and thanking her with a nod. "Y/N…I…" he tried to say something, but he didn't know what.
"It's fine, Dean," she chuckled lightly, walking back to the Impala. "Chalk it up to one of those times whiskey dick kept you from making a mistake," she laughed, but it was forced and awkward.
As they reached the Impala, she quietly slid into her seat, hiding behind her coffee like it could shield her from everything. Dean forced a small laugh, walking to the Impala and that word repeating over and over in his head.
She thinks it's a mistake to be with me.
As he reached the car, Dean's phone buzzed, seeing a message from Sam.
Sam: Are you good?
No. No, he wasn't. He'd royally fucked everything up. Dean sighed, firing a quick message in reply.
He'd talk to Sam when they got back.
As Dean parked the Impala in the garage, Y/N was out practically before it came to a stop. Dean sighed, banging his hands on the steering wheel repeatedly in his frustration. He really needed Sam.
He took off in a rush to find his brother, finally locating him and Gemma giggling at the kitchen table as they picked at their breakfast.
"Sam, need you," Dean said sternly, not stopping in his footsteps as he passed through the kitchen and down the hall to his room.
He knew Sam would follow.
"Sore head?" Gemma called after Dean with a mischievous giggle, prompting her to get a look from Sam as he followed.
Sam smirked to himself as he watched Dean frantically pace ahead. Something had most definitely happened. He kept his calm, serious and concerned face on as Dean suddenly turned and faced him.
Dean let out a huff, tugging on his hair, before quickly freaking out and telling Sam everything he could remember. When he finished, he looked defeated and lost, desperate for someone to tell him how to make things right.
"I fucked up bad, man," Dean groaned.
Sam scratched his head with a slight grimace, desperate to not let the bubbling belly laughter spring free, "Um…y-yeah, I think you did."
"Fuck!" Dean shouted, dropping his head against the wall as he sulked. "I'm not sure what's worse," he whined, looking at Sam again. "Whiskey dick or her thinking it was a mistake. Or would've been a mistake if anything happened," he groaned again. "God, I said she had a sexy brain!" he whined.
There was a very quiet snort of laughter from Sam.
Sam remained stoic.
"Look," Sam eventually said, now speaking seriously. "Maybe…it would have been a mistake if you…did. But you didn't, so it's maybe not such a bad thing. Now you can properly explain to her how you feel and not have your first time be a drunken mess?"
"How can I look her in the eye when she called it a mistake, Sam?!"
"Dean," Sam said sternly, glancing up and down the corridor to make sure no one was around. "Look, as you've gathered, Gemma and I talk a lot. She has told me…things…that insinuate feelings are mutual between Y/N and you."
"You wouldn't be so stoic if it had happened with you and Gemma," Dean glared back at him. "Fuck! I really do have to talk to her about this, don't I?"
"Yeah, you do," Sam nodded, patting Dean on the shoulder that was meant to be motivational and brotherly but just came across patronizing.
He decided right now wasn't the time to bring up that he had woken with Gemma in his bed that morning. Innocently.
"Okay," Dean sighed, still firmly planted in the hall. "Right, talk. Okay, I'm going," he breathed out, still not moving.
Sam huffed a small laugh and smirked, "See, what you do," he tittered. "You get one foot there, and just put it right in front of the other-"
"Don't be a bitch," Dean glared, finally moving down the hall towards Y/N's room.
Sam chuckled. "Good luck," he shouted after his brother before returning back to the kitchen with a shit-eating grin.
"Please tell me it's good," Gemma grinned, eagerly awaiting his return for the gossip…and him.
Sam regaled her with the tale Dean had told him, laughing himself almost to tears as he thought over just how moronic they both were. Gemma's jaw hung comically open as she listened, frequently gasping and giggling and having to take pauses for breath.
"Oh, it's fucking tragic," she squeaked through guffaws. "I feel so bad for them, but fuck, that's hilarious."
"Whiskey dick," Sam snorted.
As Y/N got to her room, she immediately changed her clothes. She flopped back onto the bed, groaning, cursing, and screaming at herself over what happened. On the one hand, she knew they were good enough friends to get past it. On the other, she felt like she was so close to having what she wanted, only for it to all go sideways.
Of course, he was awkward. He only did hookups and conquests, and she was too drunk to even pull that off. She groaned once more, curling in on herself and hoping Dean would forgive her for being a drunken slut.
Dean's pace got gradually slower and slower before he was barely moving as he approached Y/N's door. He stood there a while, mistake, mistake, mistake, still looping in his head.
Well, if it was a mistake, he was about to make another. He couldn't let Y/N go without a fight.
He knocked, biting his lip and shuffling on his feet. She beckoned for the knocker to enter as she sat up on her bed, trying to calm herself down. When she saw Dean peek in, her heart both soared and fell.
"H-hey," she said, forcing a smile. "Thought you'd be showering or passed out or something," she chuckled awkwardly.
"I probably should be," Dean tried to laugh, thankful she was smiling at the sight of him and not running. "But I can't just leave last night like this…."
She sighed, nodding. "I know. I'm so sorry, Dean. I just got so drunk…I shouldn't have come on to you like that. I don't know what I was thinking," she breathed out, shaking her head as she continued to inwardly berate herself.
Dean froze for a moment, his eyebrow raised slightly.
She's blaming herself?
Did she come onto me?
He remembered trying to say things, then he remembered her crashing into him.
"N-no, it's not that," he said quietly. "That was good. That was great," he tried to reassure, fearing he was careless with his words. "What I mean is…before we got to the motel last night, I was having the best time, like I always do with you. How last night ended is not how I planned exactly."
"I know," she nodded again, thinking he was upset he woke up next to her and not a conquest. "It's fine, really. I know you don't really do the relationship thing, and I shouldn't have pushed myself on you. I just thought…" she sighed, biting her lip.
I thought I could at least be another notch.
She finally met his eyes. "It's… we're good."
Dean's heart thudded with panic; his dancing around was giving her the completely wrong idea. His eyes were wide as he struggled to find words.
"Y/N," he said, now realizing he was leaning closer to her. "I…"
Still no words.
Try something else.
He closed the small distance. Pressing his lips into hers in a slow, delicate kiss.
"You're my favorite," he mumbled over her lips.
She grinned, a small laugh escaping her. "You did mention that last night," she added, her eyes lingering on his.
He'd kissed her, and he wasn't drunk.
"I…" she couldn't think of the right words to tell him what she felt inside.
So -stealing a page from his playbook, she kissed him back- a little more firmly than he had just done.
"You're my favorite, too," she whispered.
Dean smiled broadly, relief washing over him.
She kissed him back. She actually kissed him back.
"Start again?" he offered with a sheepish chuckle, resting his forehead on hers. "I'll ease up on the liquid courage next time."
"Next time?" her heart fluttered at the implications. "So…not a drunken, friendly hookup?"
"Maybe-" Dean started, his cheeks pinkening, "-a date?"
"Okay. Who are you, and what have you done with Dean?" she teased, laughing as she playfully pushed at him.
Suddenly, everything seemed okay, like they were just…them again.
"My reputation that bad?" Dean joked along with her before his features softened. "Nah, we're talking about you here. I'm bringing my A-game."
Then she did the thing.
The thing Dean had painfully witnessed from a distance. The thing where she dropped her gaze, blushed, her dimples showing from her smile as some guy said just the right thing. Except, this time, that look was for him.
"Don't be gross," she fussed, poking him playfully.
"Oh, it's only gonna get so much worse," Dean teased, his tongue poking briefly through his teeth as he laughed.
She rolled her eyes and groaned before wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a tight hug. She let out a long breath, the tension seeping from her at his familiar hold. She pulled back from the hug.
"Alright, no chick-flick moments," she teased. "Besides, I think I'm still hungover," she sat back on her bed. "Go get some beauty rest."
"Trying to get rid of me now?" Dean teased, rising from the bed and heading for the door. "Let me know when you're ready to stomach a coffee," he chuckled, throwing her a quick wink before opening the door.
As he left, Y/N smiled to herself, giddy and overwhelmed and really fucking tired. She laid herself down for a recovery nap, reminding herself she'd need to talk to Gemma later on.
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"Like the archangel who aspired to omnipotence, I am chained in an eternal hell."
– Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
1998 | dean winchester x fem!reader
description: seven years later and y/n still lives and works with bobby. dean pays her a visit and asks her to help him get sam and find john, since he hadn't been home in a long while.
trigger warnings: mentions of trauma, mentions of anxiety/depression, etc. read at your own risk.
word count: 1.8k
October 31, 2005
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
The white sheets were entangled between your legs as you shifted in your sleep gently. You breathed slowly through your nose as your mind flashed with images of your father. Blurry images. You let out a soft grunt and unintentionally tossed the sheets and covers off your body. You felt cold immediately, a rush of goosebumps formed all over your upper body. A hot sweat produced against the back of your neck as you continued to see the oppressing images of your father, crying in agony as his flesh bubbled from the blazing flames.
You took in a sharp breath and awoken, as if you had been underwater for too long and needed air to fill your lungs. You felt your body soaked in a hot sweat, despite the air being cold. Your lips ran dry as you breathed through your mouth, trying to ease your mind due to the nightmare.
Noticing the blankets were tossed off, you blinked slowly and knelt over to reach for them, placing them back onto your mattress. You breathed out once again, trying to ease the nervous feeling that built up within the pit of your stomach.
The door to your bedroom was cracked open, revealing Bobby who looked at you with his brows furrowed. "Doing okay, girl?" He had a mug of coffee in his hand as he opened the door more to reveal himself fully.
"Yeah, I'm fine," You rubbed your eyes with your palms.
"Mkay.." Bobby breathed out, not wanting to push too hard. "Breakfast is downstairs, get dressed within an hour, we've got a lot of work to do in the yard today." He walked off down the hall, disappearing from your view.
You took your hands from your eyes and revealed a breath, hoping that the day ahead would be free from any stresses. Slipping off the edge of the mattress, you led yourself out of your room, the carpet slithering between your toes as you walked to the door. Once you made it into the hallway, your feet pressed against the cold wooden floor and walked towards the stairs and lead yourself down into the living room. Past the living room, you were in the kitchen and saw scrabbled eggs and bacon upon the stove.
You smiled to yourself gently and prepared yourself a plate of breakfast. As you sat on the sofa chair, eating your food, you mind was at ease. Bobby was more of a father to you than Shawn was. Despite the lack of biology between you and Bobby, he practically raised you. You felt comfortable presenting Bobby with ideas about lore and monsters that the Winchesters encounter when they ask you and Bobby for some research if they fail to find any. With your father, Shawn, you felt scared and embarrassed to bring up ideas that seemed far-fetched.
Taking the last bite of turkey bacon, you took a swig of some black coffee and let it bitterly sting down your throat. You released a breath and pushed yourself out of your chair, placing the dishes into the sink. Your warm eyes gazed out the window over the sink, out at the salvage yard and watched as the sun's rays snuck through the glass of the windows, lightening the color of your irises.
Today was the beginning.
Beneath an old 1970 Ford Mustang, you took a wrench to tighten one of the loose pieces. Your body was covered in oil stains and sweat. Against your body, you wore an old grey shirt with a flannel over it; jeans against your legs and some sneakers at your feet. You laid against an old skateboard to be able to get in and out from under the car easily.
As you worked, you heard footsteps against the gravel coming closer to you. You legs stuck out from under the car, heels deep in the rocks. Without looking, you came to a conclusion that it was Bobby.
"Sway bar's busted on this one, Bobby. I'm almost done with it," You started to say as you lifted your head to gaze out from under the car. The shoes threw you off, only due to the fact that Bobby never wore clean black boots. "The hell.." You mumbled under your breath and rolled yourself out from under the car, tossing the wrench to the side.
Your eyes gazed up to see who stood before you looked like a shadow, due to the sun in your eyes. You took your hand to cover the light and made out Dean Winchester's face. You blinked a few times, in disbelief at his presence.
"Dean?" You muttered, releasing a soft breath.
"In the flesh, sweetheart," He smiled, charmingly. He held out a hand and you took it in your own as he helped you stand up. You smiled warmly and took your hand back down at your side after you were able to stand on your own.
You wasted no time and wrapped your arms around his torso, pulling him tightly against you. You hadn't seen Dean in an awfully long time, since he was always on hunts and working with John. The most time you got with him was speaking on the phone for ten minutes at a time.
You could feel Dean's chest bounce as he chuckled lightly, wrapping his arms around you tightly. His heartbeat was steady against your ear as your plump lips curved into a smile.
"What are you doing here, Deanie?" You pulled back, standing a fair distance from him.
He did the same and looked at you with a gentle gaze, his evergreen eyes glistened in response to the sunlight. "I would've called, but I thought this needed to be discussed in person," Dean offered. You nodded slowly and allowed him to continue as his lips parted. "Dad's been gone for a while and I wanted your and Sammy's help to go and find him."
"John comes and goes without a notice all the time, Dean. Are you sure it's something serious?" You furrowed your thick brow.
"Not for this long, Y/N.. I need your help and God knows how much convincing it's gonna take to get Sam to tag along," Dean's demeanor softened as he looked at you, stepping a bit closer. "I don't wanna do this without you," He asked gently.
You looked at him for a minute, pondering inside your head. "I'm outta practice Dean, I'll just slow you guys down," You released a soft breath.
"That's not true," Dean shook his head in disbelief, "You'll be fine."
You released a sigh and looked down at the gravel before glancing back up at Dean, "What about Bobby? He won't exactly be jumping for joy when I tell him that you want me to go help you find John."
"We'll figure it out.. Bobby'll come around," Dean offered you a soft smile, his dimples caving in. You couldn't fight back your own smile, his was contagious and it made you feel safe.
"Okay, fine," You released a soft breath, still fighting your smile.
"That's my girl," Dean smiled and held out his fist. You rolled your eyes as you knew he was waiting for the handshake you both created when you were six or maybe seven, you couldn't remember.
"You're a freak," You chuckled softly and bumped your knuckles with his as he smiled, both of you pulled your arms back and returned to clasp your hands together.
Your cheeks flushed with heat as did Dean's.
"No," Bobby crossed his arms over his chest as you stood with Dean in the living room. He was stood behind his desk as you and Dean's back faced the kitchen. Bobby rested his behind against the desk.
"Bobby, c'mon.. I need her help," Dean practically begged. You looked at Bobby, who felt like a father to you, and released a soft breath.
"You need help? Go get Sam. I'm not gonna put Y/N back into that lifestyle, she was able to get out for the most part!" Bobby rose his voice.
"Look, Bobby.. I know I got out, but my dad is dead because of whatever that thing was and if John's after it.. then maybe I should go and help out. It was only a matter of time before I'd get dragged back into it and I'm not complaining," You spoke in a relaxed manner as you glanced from Bobby to Dean.
Bobby took his hand and dragged it down along his face. He sighed softly and looked at you, then at Dean, then back to you. "If Shawn were here, he'd annihilate my ass," He whispered. Your lips formed into a grin as you looked at him. "Well, you better pack a bag, girl," He started, making you smile warmly, "But I need your word that you come back alive."
You nodded softly and disappeared up stairs to pack yourself a duffle bag of clothes, toiletries and other essentials for the road.
Stood at the back of the Impala, you tossed your bag into it, shrugging it off your shoulder. You shut it closed and turned your back to see Bobby and Dean heading from the house and towards the car. They met you at the car.
"Take care of yourself, girl," Bobby patted your shoulder.
You offered him a gentle smile and pulled him into a hug, allowing yourself to put in as much emotion as you could. You couldn't thank Bobby enough for taking you in when you had nowhere else to go. He was able to care for you even when he didn't have yo.
"I'll call every few nights and I'll be back hopefully soon," You pulled back and looked up to him, grinning warmly.
Bobby nodded softly and his thin lips formed into a grin.
"Let's hit the road, Y/N/N. Thanks again, Bobby," Dean patted his shoulder and sent you a soft smile. You nodded and smiled at Bobby one last time before climbing into the passenger side seat. Dean walked around the front and sat on the driver's side, starting the engine.
Your eyes locked with Bobby as Dean pulled out of the salvage yard. You waved to him as he returned the favor. You watched as he got smaller and smaller in the distance. Releasing a gentle sigh, Dean pulled into the road and looked at you with a warm gaze.
"You okay?" He asked, his voice raspy.
"Yeah, I'm good," You nodded, offering him a small smile. He glanced at you and then back at the road with flushed cheeks, along with a smile. Leaning over, you turned the radio on and, low and behold, the classic rock station flooded through the speakers of the 1967 Chevy Impala.
a/n: hi babies!! so here is part 2 of 1998! i wasn't going to continue it only because my motivation was in the literal toilet, BUT i had some sort of inspiration today and thought that i should give it a go and make it into a series! i hope you like it and i'm sorry this part is so short!! thank you for reading and as always treat people with kindness. — angelina.
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Pairing: CEO! Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: a steamy little scene.
Author’s Note: A re-work of Personal Assistant but to feature none other than Dean Winchester, just had to do it y’all!
He had you pinned to the red wooden oak desk, his eyes studying you with a predator’s unwavering attention. His hand came up to rest softly against your cheek, the breath was knocked from your chest as he trailed a single finger down the side of your face, his fingers stopping on the first button of your white button-down blouse. He thumbed it open exposing the swell of your breast, “do you like to test me, like to question the authority I hold over you?” he hummed, finger trailing the valley of your chest.
You sucked in a breath the words knocked from you, he was gripping your chin then, eyes darkening over as he stared down at you, “answer me, you know I don’t like to ask twice,” he murmured, thumb running over your bottom lip.
You shook your head not trusting your voice, a grave mistake on your end. “then why is it every time you’re asked to do something, you always have to question what it is I’ve just told you to do, do you like to make me mad?” A shiver ran up your spine at his words, your thighs clenching at having him this close.
You knew better then to question your boss, he liked things done quick, fast, he wasn’t a patient man by any means, yet here you were, all because you had to open your big mouth, all because you wanted to get home a little earlier on this particularly chilly night. A foolish move on your end, you worked for Dean Winchester not the other way around.
“you made me look a damned fool to all the other high-up’s, what they must be thinking of me, my secretary telling me how to run things,” he tsked at you, “what a grave mistake sweetheart, what a grave mistake,” he growled.
In a second he had you flipped, his backside pressing you harshly into the desk, his hands slid up your thighs, fingers catching on the hem of your tapered skirt sliding the material up till it was bunched around your waist. His hand slipped between your thighs seeking out your warmth, his hand pressed itself against your soaked panties, “would you look at that,” he murmured pushing his index finger into your heat, “you’re soaked sweetheart,”
You couldn’t help the moan that slipped past your lips, he grinned into your neck, “is all this for me?” he questioned his fingers pushing your panties to the side, fingers delving into your slick, a low moan fell from your lips.
He chuckled lowly, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin, “I think we’re way past the formalities,” he muttered thumb grazing over your clit. A gasp fell from your lips, your hands fell to the desk bracing yourself. The hand that was wrapped around your waist was sliding up your torso, fingers wrapping around your exposed neck. He pulled your head back his lips finding yours roughly, tongue dancing with yours. His fingers dipped into your dripping heat, one, then a second filled your slick channel. Your back arched, pressing your backside into his clothed erection. His fingers moved tantalizingly slow within you, drawing low moans from you.
“You’re getting all worked up for me sweetheart, does this really get you going, your boss finger fucking you,” he grinned. A lewd moan fell from your lips, his fingers quickening their pace, “you’re a dirty little thing aren’t you,” he questioned tongue running over your lower lip.
“god yes,” you moaned head falling to his shoulder.
“so wet, are you going to cum for me?”
A broken moan fell from your lips, his fingers bringing you to the edge, loud banging from the door had you jumping in his arms. His fingers continued to work you though, “Dean Please, there’s someone at the door,” you hissed. He didn’t answer you as he continued his ministrations, “cum for me sweetheart, come on cum for me y/n..”
“y/n” your brows furrowed, the room around you warping.
Your head shot up, you looked around your office eyes dazed in sleep, another harsh knock at your office door had you looking at it wide eyed. Suddenly it was swinging open, Mr. Winchester stood there hand on his hip glare cold. “Do I pay you to sleep on office time?”
You swallowed the knot in your throat, “n-no no sir,” you murmured clearing your throat squeezing your thighs together, felling the dampness of your lace panties.
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Summer Sweetheart Masterlist
You take a break from college and move back to Lawrence Kansas to take care of your sick father, Bobby Singer. Along the way you make friendships and meet Dean Winchester. Life takes a drastic turn for you and it’s so much harder than you thought it would be. (Angst, Fluff, Smut, Death, Cursing, Cancer)
Part 1- Four Months
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MAJOR TW: MISCARRIAGE!!!!!! comfortish fic with Sammy
Author note: HI everyone!!! I’ve had this one saved since May. I wrote this while going through my own miscarriage that would have been our third baby. I just wanted to leave a little note letting everyone know that everyone’s Miscarriage is valid. All feelings during and after are valid, and no it was absolutely 100% not your fault. My heart goes out to those of you that had to go through this. PLEASE do not read this if it is triggering. Take care of your mental health and do not cause yourself harm over one of my fics. Love you all!!!
You sat in the bunker bathroom, legs crossed, sitting on the floor. You felt like a child at that moment. Not necessarily cause you were sitting like a child, but the vulnerability of the situation. It was a situation entirely out of your control, and you weren't used to that. You typically had the upper hand in most things you walked into, yielding a weapon of your choice, but; this wasn't a situation any weaponry would help you in.
You and Sam had been expecting, unexpectedly. Although it was a surprise, you and Sam both quickly grew fond of the idea of having a mini-mix of you all around the bunker. Plans quickly started being made; nursery colors, debated whether it would be a boy or a girl, name picking; Dean always seemed to think he could VETO. Things were fantastic. Weeks were going by slow as you eagerly awaited your first ultrasound at nine weeks. Everyone was gushing about the new addition, yet you could never shake a feeling; you could never put your finger on it. You had mentioned it to Sam on several occasions, but it convinced him that you were stressing about nothing.
"Honey, I'm sure it's fine. We've had no indications that something is wrong. I think maybe it's just first-time mom jitters." Sam reassured soothingly. You laid flat on your back, staring at the ceiling. It was 2 a.m., and you had woken Sam up in an anxiety-ridden state. Sam, the most selfless man you'd ever met, of course, woke up immediately and begun comforting you. He laid right up against you, chest pressed to your side, with one hand wrapped over your body tightly.
"I'm serious, Sam. I just have this feeling like we won't get to meet the baby. I don't know how to explain. I know." He sighed softly, realizing quickly you weren't going to change your mind. So you guys sat in comfortable silence; Sam was stroking your temple down to your jaw until you had drifted off to sleep.
Another week of baby preparations and more arguing went by, and your excitement was slowly being replaced with dread, but you weren't exactly sure what it was that you were dreading.
"What about Dean Jr." Dean smiled cheekily, kicking his feet up on the table. This was probably the eighth time that Dean had suggested the name, and you knew it was all in fun, but you were quickly growing tired of even speaking about the baby. You knew telling Dean and Sam this would worry them more, so you kept this battle you were facing to yourself.
"No, Dean. We are not naming the baby anything remotely close to your name if there's a possibility the baby will turn out anything like you." Sam retorted back sassily, wearing a smirk. The men bickered jokingly back and forth about how lucky Dean thought the baby would be to turn out like his "awesome" uncle and how Sam thought it would be utterly tragic it would be if that happened. As you sat and listened, the impending dread grew heavier, sitting on your chest like a brick talking about a baby you knew you wouldn't get to hold.
You scooted your chair back quickly, getting to your feet, making the Winchesters turn their heads toward you, but before they could make any comments, you were speed walking toward the bathroom. You felt like you were suffocating, and you hoped a scolding shower would release some of the pressure off your chest. You knew it was only a matter of time before Sam made his way into the bathroom to check on you. He knew you too well, and so did Dean, but Dean was less likely to barge into the bathroom and demand to know what's wrong.
Turning towards the shower, you flipped the knob as far toward hot as it would go and let the steam consume you and the room. You stripped off all of your clothes when the shower steam had covered the mirror. You didn't want to look at yourself, knowing that you would see the baby bloat you were rocking was from the actual baby that you just didn't feel peace carrying.
You stepped into the hot shower, your body instantly reacting to how hot it was by jerking forward. Catching yourself, you eased back under it while your skin screamed. The physical pain of the water distracted you from everything you were feeling, even going as far as letting your head roll to the side and letting you take your first real deep breath of the day.
That relaxed feeling faltered minutes later when you heard the door handle jiggle. Your shoulders tensed as the cold air from the hallway wafted in along with Sam. You turned that way your back would be facing him so he wouldn't be able to see your face. You knew he immediately would be able to read your expression.
"Y/N/N? What's going on?" Sam questioned. You could hear the worry evident in his voice, but he was trying not to set you off.
"Nothing, I was just feeling dirty. Thought I could use a shower." The silence behind you told you that he wasn't one hundred percent buying it.
"Y/N." You heard a step toward you before a large calloused hand grabbed your right shoulder, turning you. "Why are you avoiding looking at me?" You sighed, refusing to meet his eyes. Instead, you kept your eyes on the sleeve of his flannel that was now wet from reaching into the shower.
"I'm not avoiding you per-say.." You trailed off, glancing up to meet his eyes promptly. He leaned against the sink, arms folded and legs crossed. He cocked an eyebrow at that comment, tilting his head to the side.
"But you are avoiding something?" "Well.."
Sam sighed, pushing himself off of the sink, kicking his boots off.
"Sam, what the hell are yo-" Sam cut you off by stepping into the shower fully clothed, clearly not caring.
"Dammit, Sam, what the hell?!" You stood face to chest; Sam towering over you so tall that the showerhead that you always had to tilt low, was hitting the back of your head and soaking only his chest and stomach.
"What are you avoiding." He stared down at you keenly, waiting for an answer. You absolutely did not want to answer but you knew Sam wouldn't allow that.
"I'm not avoiding you. I just can't escape the baby talk." Sam's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"You don't want to talk about the baby?" "No."
Sam held his composure well, but you could see the flash of hurt that made its way across his face.
"I just don't want to talk about the baby and get even more attached than I already am." His face smoothed.
"This is because you convinced yourself you were going to lose the baby." His words stung your chest, even though he was right. There was no polite way of putting it, but it still irritated you.
" You know what Sam. You are a fucking dick." You turned the water off harshly, and ripped your towel down off of the bar a little too hard, making the bar squeal. Before you could make it out of the bathroom, Sam had caught up, and grabbed you.
"Hey, Woah, Woah, Woah, I wasn't trying to upset you. I'm just trying to communicate and understand. That's all. I didn't know this anxiety was so big to make you dread even talking about the baby." Your anger had fizzled out as he pulled you to his wet chest, angling your chin up to face him, and wrapping his arms around you.
"I've been trying to tell you, but you and Dean both think I'm crazy." You mumbled. Sam sighed, leaning his face down to brush his lips against yours.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I guess I just didn't understand the extent of it." Placing another gentle kiss on your forehead, he continued.
"How bout this. When Dean and I get back from this quick hunt, we will call the doctor up, and see if she can get us in for a quick ultrasound just to ease your mind." That sounded reasonable, and he could tell you agreed by the thoughtful expression on your face.
"Great. Now, enough running from me. Let's go end the night in bed watching a movie. I want to spend some time with my girl before we head out in a few hours.
Now there you sit on the bathroom floor, two days into the hunt and your worst fear was happening. The first night the Sam and Dean were gone you began cramping. You called Sam panicking and he did his best to reassure you that everything would be fine and it was a normal symptom but as you went to bed you still couldn't shake the feeling.
five o'clock in the morning rolled around, the cramping had intensified and a normal bathroom trip had turned into a murder scene. You had sat there for fifteen minutes watching the blood turn the toilet water the dreaded crimson red. Your mind worked slowly as you grabbed your phone out of your robe pocket and dialed Sam's number, not realizing what time it was. You called six times, Sam not answering each time. You knew if he was still sleeping, Dean for sure would be too but you had to try. The phone rang four long times before you heard a confused, groggy Dean picked up.
"H-Hey... Hell- Y/N what's up? It's early as hell." You continued staring at the blood. What were you supposed to say?
"The baby." Was all you could muster, with no emotion. There was a pause on the other end, and you assumed by the tone of his voice that he had perked up.
"Hey, Y/N/N what are you talking about? What do you mean the baby?" He sounded more alert, but that didn't do anything for you.
"I tried calling Sam six times. The baby. There's a lot of blood." Before you could say anything else, you heard a ton of commotion. Something crashed with a "Thud" and you heard Dean whisper- yelling "Sammy." after a few seconds a sleepy Sam had the phone and he was no longer sleepy.
"Y/N??? What's going on?? Dean said blood and baby??? Did you get hurt?" You could hear how shaky his voice was but you couldn't tell if it was from being scared, or from him being up and moving; probably packing his bag. Despite Sam being worked up, you still felt abnormally calm.
"I was right. I'm bleeding a lot. I'm losing the baby." Hearing the statement out loud made your breath hitch. You heard Sam inhale sharply, and a thud in the background like he had dropped his bag.
"Oh, baby... I'm so sorry. I'm on my way now. I will be there in 5 hours. Hang tight. If you start bleeding too much, call an ambulance and I will be there as soon as I can." His voice broke several times but he was trying hard not to worry you.
"Y/N/N?" "Hm?" "I love you." "You too."
It had officially been thirty minutes after Sams's expected arrival time and you were still sitting in the exact spot you had been the past five hours. The Dam of tears had broke, and you were completely cried out. The blood still flowed consistently but thankfully you had found a pad stashed in your old room from before your pregnancy.
Suddenly the door creaked open, and there stood a very distraught Sam. His eyes were red brimmed and glossy and his hair looked like he had got it stuck in a fan blade. He was barely holding it together and seeing you broke that. Sam let out a mangled sound and dropped to his knees next to you.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't here. I should have stayed. I should have listened." On any other day, you would have smiled and made him repeat that you were right but you couldn't bring yourself to today. He guided your stiff body off the floor and directly into his lap without carrying about your blood-stained skin. It felt so good to be back in his arms, and you felt like you could finally breathe. Your heart was torn into pieces, and you knew Sam's heart was torn into pieces as well, and the guilt of not being there was eating him alive but going through the tragic event that was taking place felt more doable with Sam's arms wrapped around you, holding you together.
"I'm sad." You whispered. It was an obvious statement but you felt like that was all you could say.
"I know, my love. I'm sad too. You aren't alone though. I'm right here. I'm not leaving you again. We will get through this and we have plenty of time to have another baby." Sam rested his cheek on your head and rubbed small circles with the pad of his thumb on your thigh.
"Yeah. I was remarkably excited to have a baby now, though." You could feel him sadly smile against your head. "Me too, baby. Me too." You picked your head up, meeting his red swollen eyes.
"So what if we started trying. We don't have to like go crazy or anything, but we could just start not being careful." Sam's eyes glimmered a little, and a smirk crept up his face.
"Well, I mean we never really prevented in the first place." You rolled your eyes, smacking his arm.
"I'm being serious. We were gonna have a baby now anyway." He sat in thought for a moment.
"I mean, yeah. We could see where it goes. As long as you are ready for that emotionally after this. There's no rush. We can take as long as you need." He stated. You smiled at his thoughtfulness. You weren't in a rush, but you knew after this you wanted a baby now instead of later.
"I will let you know if I can't handle it." You promised. Sam kissed your forehead, making his way to your swollen lips.
"Deal. Now let's get you up and cleaned up and in bed. You need to rest and I will be right by your side as soon as I get some food made for you. Dean finished up the hunt about an hour ago, so he's picking some stuff up from the store for you on the way home."
Sam kept his word about not leaving your side once. He showered you, dressed you, and went to work in the kitchen but first, he pulled up a chair right next to where he was so that he could give you kisses in between cooking. The rest of that evening Sam catered to you any way you needed, and never left the bed unless you needed something. You didn't think it was possible to love Sam any more than what you already did, but man he seems to prove you wrong every time. You never wanted to go through the loss of your baby again, and you didn't know if you could ever do it again, but if you absolutely had to, you didn't want to go through it with anyone but Sam Winchester.
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I was wondering if you can write me a dean and reader request where she is being all secretarive close to their anniversary and he gets nervous when he sees another guys address and he goes and finds out it a boudoir shoot for him,.. make it smutty only if you want to. I love your writing! <3
Pairings: Dean x Reader
Thank you for the request! I hope you like it!
Masterlist Category: Flangst
It's almost been 1 year with the love of your life.
3 years of endless love, trust and adventures.
Sure, there's been some bumps in the road, nights that left you in tears, fights that threatened to break the two of you, but you never left each other's side. Never gave up.
Because this love was different, special, endless. It was those love stories that people read and their heart aches because they wished it was them, it was messy, chaotic, amazing.
It was yours.
You wanted to make this anniversary special for him, give him something that he would never forget and after talking to your friends about ideas, you came up with the perfect plan.
You received a recommendation from your friend for a photographer, Chris. She did boudoir shoots and she was very popular. Everybody loved her work, her vision. She knew how to capture the woman's beauty on camera and that's exactly what you wanted to give to Dean-a piece of you to cherish forever.
It was a bigger project than you anticipated and you hated sneaking around and lying to Dean but you knew it would be worth it-he would love his present.
The first day you lied to Dean it was because you had to go shopping to pick up some outfits and unfortunately, Dean couldn't be there. The second time was because you needed to bring some props, meet with the photographer and get her vision.
And today was the photoshoot. You told Dean you were going out to lunch with the girls and than going shopping and you could tell he was suspecting... something. He was quiet and shy but he didn't say much about it, just gave you his trust which is exactly what you needed.
But internally Dean was freaking out. Your anniversary was in a couple days and he's barely seen you, it was making him feel on edge. He knew you were lying to him, he just didn't know why.
You gave him a kiss before heading out the door to go to Chris's, adrenaline and anticipation filling your body as you drove over. You were so excited to get these photos done and to see Dean's face when he saw the photographs.
When you left, Dean let his curiosity get to him. He went to the shared bedroom and snooped a bit, looking for evidence that you were lying, god he hoped you weren't lying. He hated not trusting you, he hated himself for it but something inside was telling him you weren't being truthful, it was driving him crazy.
He was about to change his mind and leave when he spotted a piece of paper sticking out of your book that you keep on your nightstand. His feet took him there before his mind did, opening the book he pulled out the note. It was a small white note and scribbled on it was something he really didn't want to see.
"Chris - 723 Perry Rd."
Chris. He assumed it was a guy and anger filled him. That's where you were, that's why you were sneaking around.
His heart fell to his stomach, he couldn't believe this whole time you were seeing another guy, lying to him, using him for what? Your anniversary was in a few days and he was so excited for it but now he felt like he couldn't breathe.
He rushed to his car and sped to the address, instantly spotting your car in the driveway which only made him angrier. He stormed to the door, ready to punch this Chris dude in the face.
Three loud pounds on the door and a moment later, the door opened to face a tall blonde woman with a camera in her hand. He scoffed and tried to look behind her, "Yeah, is there a Chris here?" He shouted.
She flinched and took her camera off, placing on the table, "I'm Chris."
He froze and stared back at her in shock, that he did not expect at all. You could hear Dean shouting from the doorway, quickly pulling on your robe, you rushed to the doorway standing beside Chris.
"Dean? What are you doing here?"
His mouth dropped open and he had no idea what to say. Chris excused herself to give you two some privacy, letting Dean step inside.
"W-What.... I'm so confused." He whispered, his eyes glancing at the backdrop behind you. "What are you doing here? You told me you were going to the mall, you lied to me..."
You sighed and brought him inside of the house, showing him the area with your props and the cameras. "It was supposed to be a surprise. It's a photoshoot. For you."
He furrowed his brows in confusion, his eyes glancing around at the pieces of lingerie all over the floor and that's when it hit him.
"Oh... OH. Oh shit... sweetheart I'm sorry."
You giggled and pulled him closer to you, "It's alright. We took quite a few photos before this so it will still be a surprise. But Dean, you know I would never hurt you, at least not on purpose. I know your mind went to me cheating, and I can completely see why, but I would never do that to you."
"I know. I mean, I think I always knew but when I saw the name and the address I guess I just kind've freaked out."
You nodded and leaned up, kissing his lips gently. "Okay, now how about you head home so I can finish this shoot for you?"
He smiled and he started heading towards the door, quickly being interrupted by Chris rushing towards him, "Wait! I have an idea." She smiled and both of you before pulling Dean back inside.
After a few costume changes and setting up, Dean was half naked, standing in only his jeans while you were dressed in a black teddy. "Sweetheart... I don't know about this." He whispered.
You giggled and stepped closer, pecking his lips softly. "Chris is really good at what she does. Just trust me. Plus these are going to be some really steamy photos."
He smirked and deepened the kiss, trying to ignore the flashing of the camera and just be here with you.
To be honest, he was excited to see how these photos came out and even more excited to see the ones you did alone, especially since he spotted a cowboy hat in the corner.
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I made a thing...
(also plz don't repost, but rebloggings a-okay!)
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My Favorite (Part 4)
Summary: A couple of drinks and a night out on the strip! What could possibly go wrong?
Characters: Dean x Female!Reader, Sam x OC!Gemma
Warnings: Fluff, Drinking, Smut (Vaginal Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Role Play?), Angst
A/N: Thinking about a timestamp of Sam and Gemma's night out. 🤔😏 Also, one last part after this. I might continue it. I've written some beyond, continuing to explore this group and their dynamic. But I'm not too sure about it. Anywho, enjoy!
"Tequila!" Dean ordered enthusiastically.
He and Y/N were sat on a pair of barstools in a secluded corner of a busy bar. The music was loud, the people were loud, but it was just the two of them in this spot. Plus, he'd slipped the bartender a twenty to ensure they got priority treatment with the drinks.
Tequila was okay because it wasn't whiskey.
"So," Y/N announced, her speech slightly slurred as she raised yet another shot in a toast to Dean, tossing it back with a wince. "What do people do in Vegas other than gambling?" she chortled.
"Get drunk," Dean chuckled, knocking back his shot and wincing at the burn.
"Ooh!" Y/N announced, clumsily rising from her seat and taking a moment to get her footing right. "We should walk the strip! See what kinda trouble we could get into," she grinned excitedly at him, wiggling her brows and tugging on his arm.
"You are such a bad influence on me," Dean laughed, stumbling to his feet and extending his hand out for her to follow. "C'mon then, Troublemaker."
"You love it," she exclaimed, accepting his hand and following him out the bar. "Vegas, Baby!" she exclaimed loudly to the night as they emerged onto the street, a few passersby laughing and cheering back at her.
Dean laughed and cheered with her. His heart swelling at seeing her so happy and free. He cursed himself for not inviting the girls along to Vegas Week before.
Y/N stumbled back slightly on her footing, and Dean was quick to catch her, chuckling to himself as he held her steady. They were drunk. Again. He feared a repeat of the motel night was on the horizon, and he'd fuck it up again.
"Let's walk down the strip," he smiled at her. "Maybe sober up a little bit?"
"'Kay," she smiled. "Jus wanna mix it up with mah favorite," she grinned cheesily at him.
Waking up had taken a while. As their eyes opened to find one another, Sam and Gemma lingered a long time with cuddles and kisses before things grew heated. Before long, a repeat round of the night before was complete, and Sam briefly thought he could get used to this.
After showering and dressing for the day, Sam had messaged Dean. He hadn't received anything from the older Winchester since the short message the night before.
Dean: S'all good. We found a GREAT bar.
After several attempts to call him and still no response, Sam grew increasingly concerned. It was apparent that his and Gemma's morning was to be spent tracking down Y/N and Dean, ensuring they were fine before they could continue their own mini-vacation.
Gemma could not get ahold of Y/N either, and they didn't know what room the two of them were in.
"I'm gonna check the GPS," Sam said, fiddling with the app on his phone. "If either of them has it activated, we should be able to find them."
It wasn't long before both of their numbers showed they were in the exact location, somewhere across town, but they weren't moving. With his worry increasing each passing moment, Sam and Gemma headed to the area on the GPS, hoping that something terrible hadn't befallen them.
Out of all the possible scenarios that passed through Sam's mind, the one he was presented with was most definitely not even on his radar. They were passed out, leaning on one another's shoulders, their backs slumped against a decorative fountain, several empty champagne bottles scattered around them.
But that wasn't even the worst of it.
Sam chuckled lightly, shaking his head. Dean was in a tux, his tie undone and hanging loosely around his neck. Y/N, however, was in a dress. Not just any dress. A satiny white dress. The pair of them sporting matching plain gold bands on their left ring fingers, the sunlight of the day sparkling off of them as if to say, "Hey, look at me!"
Sam kicked at Dean's feet, "Hey," he said loud and stern, chuckling as Dean abruptly and groggily awoke with a 'huh,' his eyes squinting against the daylight assaulting him.
Dean's back ached, just like his head, and everything else. He looked up to see Sam and Gemma staring down at him, looking like they were about to burst out laughing any moment.
"What?" Dean grunted, turning over to go back to sleep like he was still in bed.
Sam reached down, grabbing Dean by the lapels of his jacket and hauling him up to his feet, steadying him until he caught his balance. Something in Dean's inner pocket caught Sam's attention, and he retrieved it, seeing folded-up papers. When he opened them, he scanned over the pages before huffing a laugh.
"You even used your real names," he said, clearly amused, as he tucked the papers back into his brother's jacket. "Might wanna wake your wife," Sam said, pointing behind Dean to Y/N, still slumped against the fountain asleep, a bottle still clutched in her hand.
"My what?!" Dean stared at Sam dumbfounded before suddenly snatching the piece of paper from his hands and scanning it himself.
His eyes widened - Sam and Gemma now snickering in the background - as he turned back to look at Y/N. In a dress like that. He's in a tux like this.
They had learned nothing from the motel night.
"Right, okay," Dean said quickly, his serious face as he moved to wake his bride. "Um…Y/N?"
She groaned, her head rolling to the side before a crick in her neck made her wince. She rubbed at the sore spot, opening her eyes and seeing Dean knelt in front of her, the others giggling behind him as they watched.
"Ugh," she moaned. "I gotta stop getting drunk with you," she muttered, using Dean as leverage to help her pull herself to her feet. She wobbled unsteadily, dropping her head to Dean's chest as it pounded.
"Yeah, you don't know the half of it yet," Dean mumbled to her, holding her steady. "Think first we need to get back to the hotel, like now."
Y/N simply nodded, leaning against Dean and letting him guide her, unwilling to open her eyes for that cruel sun to stab them again.
"You gonna carry her over the threshold?" Gemma tittered, climbing into the front seat of the Impala beside Sam, who was driving. Dean and Y/N stumbled into the back seats with a mixture of groans.
"Least I don't look like a leopard," Dean snarked back, noticing the marks and love bites littering Gemma's skin.
She quickly went quiet, adjusting the collar of her shirt as she sunk into the seat sheepishly.
Sam drove back to the hotel, a broad and proud grin on his face that refused to leave. Between the state of Dean and Y/N and the lovely marks he adorned Gemma with, he was on cloud nine.
Dean muttered some comment about catching up with them later, practically carrying Y/N, who was leaning heavily on him as they made their way to their room.
As they finally got to the room, Y/N looked down at herself in confusion, admiring her dress but not remembering having changed.
"What happened last night?" she muttered, making her way to the bathroom.
She stopped to look in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, her makeup smudged. She sighed, running her hands through her hair before she caught sight of the ring.
Dean winced, having half unbuttoned his dirty, mudstained shirt. He caught sight of that glimmer of gold from his ring finger, and he blinked quickly at it. He honestly didn't remember a damn thing.
Looks like tequila is out too.
He grabbed the piece of paper from his pocket with a sigh, moving to lean on the bathroom door frame as he passed it to Y/N.
"Yeah, looks like we did a thing."
She turned, reading over the papers before quirking a brow and looking up at him.
"We really don't learn, do we?" she huffed a laugh. "This is a new one for me. We even used our real names," she added, handing the papers back to him with a sigh.
"Yeah. We must have been serious." Dean chuckled, tucking the paper away and scratching his head. "What do we do about it?"
"Well, I'm certainly framing a copy of that. Proof that Dean Winchester can be tamed," she teased. "I'm sure we can go back there and get it annulled or whatnot," she shrugged.
"Right, yeah," Dean chuckled, his cheeks going slightly pink. "It'd be crazy to just…leave it…right?"
"Yeah, right," she nodded, her head bowed. "I need a shower before anything," she laughed, trying to ease the tension that always seemed to seep between them. She turned her back to him, looking over her shoulder, "You mind?"
"No, course not," he answered quickly, unzipping her dress. "Was thinking the same…myself."
"Well," she began, trying to gather a little courage. "I suppose we could share. You know, seeing as we're married and all," she laughed but swallowed hard.
She knew it couldn't stay this way. Dean would never do that. But maybe she could play it up while it lasted.
Dean's heart nearly jumped in his throat. He thought she'd hate him for something crazy happening again. Yet here they were, both hungover messes in Vegas, and she's inviting him for a shower.
Marriage got some perks.
He moved over to her, his arm snaking around her lower back as he closed in, holding himself a breath away from her lips.
"What kind of husband says no to his wife?" he smirked, slowly closing the distance as he pulled her into a tender kiss.
She immediately responded, kissing back. She couldn't remember what had happened. But she wasn't exactly upset about it. Slowly she pulled from the kiss, holding Dean's gaze as she let her dress drop to the floor, left in just her underwear. She forced herself not to cover up and held his gaze as she began removing his jacket and shirts.
He let her undress him, drinking her in the entire time. His eyes devoured her, studying every line and curve; his hands wanted to roam and explore. Open palms smoothed down her sides and hips, moving around to cup her ass as he deepened the kiss, humming as his tongue grazed her lips.
Once they were both undressed, she turned on the shower, testing the water, and reaching out to him, her ring still prominent on her hand. She tugged him in with her before stepping under the warm spray and smiling at him.
"We can enjoy it for now, though?" she said with a spark of hope in her eyes.
"Well, I know I'm enjoying it," he remarked with a smirk and hungry eyes.
He watched the water gliding through Y/N's hair, trickling down her cheeks, neck, down the swell of her breasts.
"God, you are so beautiful…."
She tugged him to her under the spray.
"You're not so bad yourself, Mr. Winchester," she smirked against his lips, letting her hands roam over his exposed skin.
He breathed out as she touched him, the hot water from the shower heightening the sensation as their bodies glided together. He kissed her again -deeper, hungrier- ending with a slight nip on her swollen lips.
"I ever tell you how much I want you, Mrs. Winchester?"
She froze as his words hit her - really hit her - and her stomach and heart started going crazy.
"Well, I do remember you mentioning something about 'sexing me so hard," she teased.
He couldn't help but laugh, his head dropping for a moment bashfully. He looked back up at her. His eyes seemed darker, and he wore a smirk that would make the devil blush.
"Not even talking about that yet," he hummed, leaning into her neck and ghosting his lips on her glistening skin. "Just how much I've wanted to do this-"
He planted a small trail of kisses up her neck to her jaw. He deepened the last kiss, sucking on the skin as he hummed hungrily.
"And this-" he continued, resuming his gentle attack on her neck while a wandering hand grazed her breast.
His fingertips caressed gently, skimming down to her hardened nipples, which he slowly circled with his thumb. She moaned in satisfaction, her hand running through his hair, gently holding him to her. She bit her lip as thoughts began swimming in her mind. She decided to take a chance.
"You know," she breathed out. "We could take a quick shower. Then you could take me to bed and properly consummate this marriage," she teased with a grin.
She couldn't help it. She wanted the fantasy.
He grinned, cupping her face as he kissed her again. "Just so hard to keep my hands off you," he admitted.
She playfully pushed him back with a smirk. "Shower," she emphasized, reaching for the shampoo and carrying on her cleansing ritual as if he wasn't even there.
He let his eyes study her as she washed, biting his lip as he hastily cleaned himself. His eyes glistened as his hunger grew, picking his moment carefully. As she picked up her body wash, he moved quickly. Taking her arm and tugging her to him, so her back rested on his chest. He took the body wash from her grasp, squirting some into his palm before shamelessly slathering it on her body. His hands smoothed down and across her belly as the suds formed. He guided his hands back up again, smoothing around her breasts while his hard cock rutted into her lower back.
At his firm but gentle touch, she relented, more than willing to let him do whatever he desired. She could feel him at her back, hard and long, and squeezed her thighs together, a vain attempt to stem her growing arousal. She dropped her head back onto his shoulder, her hands on his forearms, following his movements as she moaned blissfully.
Her moans made him hum, the sweetest noise he had ever heard. He washed the suds from her body, his hands still hungrily roaming, teasing as they reached down to her center but then quickly moved away.
"Want you…" he whispered into her ear, his warm breath fanning over her skin as he spoke.
She turned in his arms with that familiar playful smirk as she threw her arms around his neck.
"Well, I'm your wife," she smiled. "You've got me."
He smirked, quickly hoisting Y/N up and onto his hips, wrapping her legs around his waist.
"The more you keep going with this marriage stuff, the more I'm gonna keep liking it," he warned.
Before she could respond, he attached his lips to hers, kissing her more passionately than before. He carried her from the bathroom towards the giant bed - both still sopping wet from the shower - and crashed them both down to the mattress.
Hovering over her, Dean kissing along her jawline, down her neck, peppering small pecks, nips, and sucks until he trailed down to her breasts. His tongue peeked through his lips, lapping gently at the swollen nub before he encased it with his mouth.
"Mmm, Dean," she moaned, her hands languidly roaming over every part of him she could reach. "God, your mouth is so special," she whined.
He smirked against her skin. He turned his mouth's attention to her other breast, snaking one hand slowly down her center, halting momentarily on her mound as he looked up at her for permission.
She smiled sweetly at him. "Yours, Dean," she urged her voice already breathy and incredibly needy.
She wanted him to take her, to do whatever he wanted with her. She was so deep in her 'wedding night' fantasy. She never wanted to come out, trying to savor it and wring every moment before it inevitably all came to an end.
He moaned at her words, moaning again as his hand moved down to her center, her slick quickly gathering around his fingers as he teased at her opening. He couldn't hold it back; he slid two fingers into her, curling them inside as he felt her walls flutter and tighten around them. The moans that spilled from her made his throbbing cock twitch excitedly.
Dean released his mouth from her nipple, reaching up to now devour her lips and tongue. He turned his hand, pulling almost entirely out before plunging back in with a third digit.
She gasped into the kiss, her eyes locked on his, her hands squeezing his shoulders as her hips involuntarily did this delicious corkscrew swirl in response to his hand. She relaxed into it, closing her eyes as her head fell back, a gentle whimper passing her parted lips.
Dean's mouth fell open as he breathed out, watching her slowly come undone. Listening to the noises he'd only ever imagined her making. He was doing this, these noises were for him, and she said she was his.
All he wanted was to keep making her feel like this.
He attached his lips to her neck, kissing deeply and sucking what would no doubt be a deep red mark. While he continued pumping his fingers into her - his pace growing faster - he brought his thumb to draw tight, small circles around her clit.
As soon as he touched her sensitive nub, Y/N was gone. She moaned and whimpered as wave after wave of pleasure rippled through her. She gently pushed at his hand, taking a shuddering breath, never having experienced an orgasm like that before.
"Hoomahgod," she breathed out, chuckling a little before finding his eyes once more, a dopey smile on her face.
"That was just the warm-up." Dean teased, smirking against her lips.
He withdrew his fingers from her, cock twitching at the sight of her cum on them, slowly bringing them to his lips and tasting her flavor.
"Fuck!" he hummed blissfully, quickly shifting himself so the tip of his cock pushed at her entrance.
She moaned obscenely, the dopey grin still on her face, her skin flushed and body open to him. She cupped his face, pecking his lips.
"Can I keep you?" she whispered before her eyes went wide, realizing what she'd said.
There was no denying Dean froze, too, her words temporarily stunning him. It didn't take him long to come back though, his response already waiting.
"I'm yours," he breathed, cupping her face before slowly pushing his hips forward, effortlessly gliding through Y/N's entrance to the hilt.
"Dean." she moaned, clutching at his back, holding him to her.
She hoped he could hear what she was trying to say, what she was feeling, at that moment. But she could only muster his name.
He moaned out obscenely, feeling her walls flutter and tighten as she adjusted to him. Her fingers digging into his back made his hairs stand on end, just…her, everything about her.
Bunching a hand in her hair, he started rolling his hips, a steady pace as he struggled to contain himself already.
"Oh, feel so fuckin' good…" he moaned out, eyes flitting closed.
She lost her fucking mind.
Her moans heightened in volume and frequency to match his. He could feel her moving instinctively with him, helping him delve deeper into her fluttering center. He could feel his own edge approaching, and he wanted to take her with him; he was desperate to feel her cum around his cock.
He moved one of her legs, lifting it higher on his hip as he shifted, allowing himself to sink even deeper. The deeper he went, the tighter she clung to him, making him clench his jaw as control was quickly slipping away.
With a loud groan, he pounded his hips, the breath punching from his lungs with each devastating thrust.
"Dean! Oh, my…DEAN!!" she practically screamed as her orgasm suddenly ripped through her.
Her eyes squeezed shut, her vision going white, as all she felt was euphoria all through her. It's like a religious experience, she briefly thought.
Dean moaned and groaned obscenely, his hips bucking erratically as he worked her through her orgasm. He gasped her name as her walls clenched him like a vice, and he couldn't hold it back any longer.
With a roar, he thrust hard, stilling as his own vision went white, and he clenched his eyes shut. His head dropped to his chest as he panted and whined, long ropes of hot cum spilling deep into Y/N's core.
After a short while, Dean whined again as he slowly removed himself, dropping onto the mattress beside her. Once she finally caught her breath, Y/N blinked rapidly, her vision finally clearing.
"Holy shit, I think I had an out-of-body experience," she breathed out before turning her head to face him with a bright smile and playful chuckle.
Dean chuckled in agreement, rolling onto his back and beckoning her closer to him. He brought his arm around her, cupping her to him as he placed a soft kiss on the top of her head.
"You're amazing," he said gently.
"You just now figuring that out?" she joked.
"Nah, I've always known you are," he shrugged happily.
"Thank you," she said earnestly, but with a gentle smile. "This could have been really awkward," she laughed. "But you made it…special," she blushed as she smiled warmly at him.
He looked down at her, smiling as he brushed a hand through her hair.
"About time I did something right," he laughed. "One marriage, consummated."
She laughed with him before their laughter died down into a comfortable silence. She couldn't help her mind running a mile a minute. Too many thoughts and too many questions. She wondered how long he'd wait until going to get the annulment. She decided she just wouldn't say anything and see what he did.
Maybe, she thought, he wouldn't do it.
Dean relaxed into the mattress as he held her. He was comfortable, the most content he'd ever felt. And he was married.
He'd never considered it before, his brain typically defaulting to the hell no mentality. But here he was, married - accidentally, sure - to the girl of his dreams. The girl of his Djinn dreams.
Why would he get it annulled?
He decided they'd talk about it later, enjoy the moment for now.
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Title: Winchester Cuddles
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 3,652
Warnings: Minimal Angst, Mentions of a Bad Hunt, Migraine, Vomiting, Lots of Fluff, Hidden Relationship, Implications of Past and Future Smut, Lots More Fluff, Comfort!Fic
Summary: After a bad rougarou hunt, you and the Winchester’s are driving back to the bunker for some much needed rest. On the way, a wicked migraine hits you, leaving your best friend and hidden boyfriend to take care of you.
Squares Filled: Sick!Fic ( @spndeanbingo), Clothes Sharing ( @winchesterandbeyondbingo)
A/N: A migraine comfort fic! This is definitely one of my favourites! I hope y’all enjoy it too! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated, and I’d love to hear your thoughts! Happy reading!!
The sound of the impala roared down the highway. The road was soaked from the rainstorm that was still tinkering through. It was just after one in the morning and Dean was determined to get the three of you home to the bunker before two. He was going a little over the speed limit, which was normal for him.
The three of you just finished up a crappy hunt. It was a rougarou hunt, and typically those were a bitch when they turned. You thought you had more time when you clearly didn’t and the husband turned his wife into a snack. The scene was one of the worst you had seen in all your years of hunting. Dean managed to take him out, but not without a fight. Sam had gotten pretty hurt after being thrown into a glass table, and needed a few stitches. He was now lying in the backseat, trying to get a bit of rest. You sat up front with Dean, trying not to let the scene get to you. The start of what was probably going to be a nasty migraine was thumping against your skull.
You were sitting shotgun next to Dean. He had a couple of bruises on him, one giving him a slight black eye. You smiled softly when you looked at him. Dean was your best friend in the entire world. There wasn’t a single person out there that knew you better than Dean did. The two of you had an instant connection that had you joined at the hip.
You met him in a bar one night. You were bartending in a place not too far from where Harvelle’s used to be before it burned down. You weren’t allowed in there because your mom had somehow screwed Ellen over and you were too afraid to show your face in there in case she took you out. You kept your head down and worked. Dean walked in the bar one night. His head held high and confidence radiating through him. He came up to you and gave you his signature smile that you were sure he gave all the girls. Of course, you fell for it and ended up between the sheets with his hard cock sliding into your pussy about twenty seven minutes after you finished your shift.
What no one knew was that you and Dean were together the way you were. Since that night, you and Dean had been an item that was never really shared with the world. Mostly, you were sure it was out of fear of someone dying. Another part of you thought it was because it worked. Dean was your best friend, and he gave you the world. He made you happier than anyone ever had and that was really fucking rare for a hunter to find, let alone two hunters. People thought you were sleeping together and that was it. They didn’t know that you and Dean were a couple. They didn’t need to know.
“You okay?” he asked you quietly, taking a second to glance over at you.
“Not really,” you answered honestly, giving him a weak smile.
“Mental or physical?” he questioned next, reaching his slightly swollen hand over to you, taking yours in his. You could faintly make out the cuts on the back of his knuckles from when he got a few punches in, trying to knock out the guy. You brought his hand up to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his cut before placing him in your lap.
“Both,” you admitted. “That scene was just –”
“Too much,” he finished for you. “Gruesome.”
“That’s putting it lightly,” you breathed out. “That was one of the worst scenes I’ve ever seen. I’ve got a migraine coming, and it’s making me feel sick.”
“Just let me know if I need to pull over. You didn’t hit your head or anything, did you?” he inquired, concern evident in his voice.
“No I didn’t,” you assured him. “I promise. The nausea is definitely a bit of the migraine and the scene. It’s been awhile since I’ve had one and I think it’s the change in temperature and the pressure that’s making my head hurt.”
“That would do it,” he sighed. “You get ‘em pretty often during the summer with the pressure change.”
“Yeah, unfortunately,” you let out a light laugh. “I can’t wait to get home to lay down.”
“You want to get some rest? You can use my lap as a pillow until we get home,” he offered you.
“You sure?” you cocked your eyebrow, letting out a shaky breath.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I’ll even run my fingers through your hair.”
“You’re too good to me,” you smiled to yourself before shifting in your seat. You moved to lay down, positioning yourself so your head would lay directly on his right thigh. You felt your head growing tight for a moment before you settled down. You felt the pounding sensation on the right side of your head.
“Better?” he said softly as his hand carefully made its way into your hair.
“Bit better, yeah,” you sighed, closing your eyes so you wouldn’t see the lights as much. He did this for you more often than either of you really acknowledged. It was a silent language between the two of you most of the time. Something that had really developed over time. Dean was always there to take care of you when you were sick, or having a bad day. It was the same when he wasn’t feeling good or he was going through something that he needed a shoulder to lean on. This was just another one of those moments.
A strong wave of nausea ripped through you, making your stomach turn. You weren’t entirely sure if this was migraine related or the aftermath of the hunt. Regardless, it wasn’t good. You jolted upwards, squeezing Dean’s arm. You didn’t have to say a word. He was already pulling the car to the side of the road and the passenger door was kicked open before he could fully stop the car. You were out in seconds, doubling over before the contents of your lunch made its famous reappearance.
You felt a hand press against your back, another trying to move your hair away from your face so you didn’t get anything in it. You let out a cough before more came up, landing in a pile of soaking wet leaves below you. The hand rubbed circles on your back in an attempt to sooth you.
“You’re alright,” Dean said softly to you. “Let it all out, sweetheart.” Before you could say anything to him, another wave hit you, making you clench your stomach in the process. Fuck, you really weren’t feeling that great.
“Everything okay?” Sam called out from the car.
“Yeah,” Dean said back. “She’s just a little sick.”
You wiped your mouth on the back of your jacket, praying that you were done. You were sure there wasn’t anything left in your system after that. Your body felt really weak and shaky as you stood up straight. Dean swooped in quickly, helping take some of the weight off you as you made your way back to the car.
“You okay?” Dean asked as he helped you back in the passenger’s seat.
“No, not really,” you whispered.
“It’s another hour back to the bunker. Think you can make it?” he questioned, kneeling down in front of you.
“Yeah, I think so,” you sniffled, wiping away one of the stray tears that fell when you were throwing up.
“I promise, when we get home, I’ll take good care of you, okay?” he smiled weakly. “Memory foam bed, lots of blankets and pillows, something for your migraine.”
“Okay,” you mouthed. “Do I get cuddles too?”
“You can have all of the cuddles you want,” he assured you.
He carefully closed the passenger door before circling around to the driver’s side, sliding back in. He put the car in drive, taking off down the road a little faster than before. You clenched your stomach as you moved closer, leaning down once more to rest your head in his lap. It was the only way you could be comfortable for the next hour.
Forty five minutes later, the car slowed down and everything got dark. A good sign that you were entering the Bunker’s garage. You kept your eyes shut the entire ride back and quite honestly, you didn’t want to open them up just yet.
“You want help taking her in?” you heard Sam ask Dean.
“No, it’s okay. You’re already pretty banged up. I’ve got her,” he said to his younger brother.
“If you need anything –”
“I know,” Dean cut him off. “This is Y/N. I always take good care of her.”
“One of these days, the two of you will admit that you love each other. Maybe then it’ll cut the sexual tension that is constantly around you two,” Sam chuckled, making you smile just a little.
“Night Sammy,” he shook his head with a smile playing on his lips. The car door shut, followed by the door to get into the bunker not long after. “You want me to carry you in?”
“Please,” you whispered. “–’m tired, Dean.”
“I know. And you’re not feeling good and that doesn’t help,” he sympathized as you moved into a sitting position. It almost felt like there was a heartbeat going on in your head. The right side was throbbing, making you keep one eye shut to help ease the pain. Dean reached inside the car, scooping you up in his arms with ease. You instantly tilted your head, resting it against his shoulder as you relaxed in his arms.
You felt something soft against your back not long after that. Your body melted into the memory foam as soon as you relaxed. You knew exactly where you were. The smell of his body wash in the sheets was a dead giveaway. Dean had carried you into his room, and placed you on his bed. His bed was a lot more comfortable than yours was.
“–’m just going to change you into something more comfortable, okay?” he told you as his hands toyed with the button on your jeans, carefully undoing it before his fingers curled in the top. It wasn’t the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Dean was always gentle when it came down to this. He dragged your jeans slowly down your legs, making sure he didn’t hurt you as they bunched up around your ankles. One by one, he removed each leg, tossing the material to the side. Next were your socks, quickly adding into the pile next to the bed.
You felt something soft brush against your foot, only to find him sliding a pair of his sweatpants on you. They were always so much more comfortable than yours were, and had a lot more room in them. Plus, there was that tiny part of you that liked knowing they were on him at one point, with or without boxers underneath.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked softly as he reached for the bottom of your shirt.
“The thought of you naked,” you said lazily, not even thinking about holding back.
“Too bad you’ve got a migraine, huh,” he chuckled. “Maybe once you’re feeling better, I’ll let you strip me down and have your way with me.”
“Okay,” you breathed out with a weak smile.
“Can you sit up for me for a second?” he asked sweetly. You did as he asked, knowing he needed to get your shirt off of you and this was the easiest way. You raised your hands above your head, feeling the coolness of the air hitting you as soon as the material left your body. Seconds later, you felt him pull one of his shirts over you, making you open your eyes just a little to see which one he had given you. It was his navy blue henley that you loved. Mostly, you just loved when he wore it, but when he gave it to you like this; smelling like his body wash mixed with his cologne, you were in your glory.
“Bra on or off?” he inquired.
“Off, please,” you whispered, reaching behind your back to undo it. That was something you were good at doing. Taking your bra off while you had a shirt on. Dean was mesmerized by it every time.
“You lay down for me, and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back in a second with something for your head and then I’ll join you.”
You heard his footsteps grow quieter as you slipped beneath his comforter. It was thin since Dean was a hot sleeper, which meant you gravitated towards him for warmth. He did have an extra blanket in here for when you needed something more than his body heat. You turned on your side, resting the right side of your head against the pillow, hoping to ease the awful pounding happening in your head.
The bed dipped down in front of you, making you smile just slightly before popping one of your eyes open. Dean had his hand open, two red and blue pills sitting in the palm of his hand and a glass of water in the other. You reluctantly sat up, taking the two pills, downing them with the cold water. Hopefully they wouldn’t take too long to kick in.
“Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he said as he undid the cap to something. “Peppermint oil to help ease the pain.”
“Thank you,” you mouthed. You felt his middle finger brush over the right side of your head. He gently rubbed the oil into your skin, and the smell of mint filled your nose. A relaxing scent that you quite liked, thankfully. He was thorough with the essential oil, making sure he got everywhere that was needed before screwing the cap back on.
“That should make you feel better,” he assured you.
You shifted from your sitting position, laying back down against the pillow. The comforter shifted next to you, followed by the dip in the memory foam mattress. You gravitated towards him, moving so close that there would be no space between you. You just wanted his affection at this point. It was the only thing from this point on that would make you feel better. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, holding you in closer to him as you snaked yours around his waist. Your leg slipping between his to tangle it in there.
“Better?” he asked, keeping his voice soft.
“Mhh,” you answered, nuzzling into him a little more. “I can’t believe Sammy hasn’t figured out that we’ve been sleeping together.”
“He knows,” Dean chuckled. “Trust me, he knows. He just doesn’t know the rest of it. That’s between us.”
“You ever wish it were more between us?”
“Sometimes,” he nodded, resting his head carefully on yours. “After today, it reminded me why we don’t tell people what we are.”
“Scary,” you admitted. “Knowing that the monster in him overtook his emotions and he killed his entire family. Even if he loved them all, he couldn’t control his hunger.”
“I don’t want to give anyone a reason to hurt you because of me, Y/N. We’re good at keeping it low-key. We’ve done it for years and we’re so good that Sammy doesn’t even suspect that there is more to us than meets the eye. But I do wish that I could hold your hand in public, and give you everything you deserve to have.”
“You do give me that, Dean,” you assured him. “Right now for instance. On the way home. Those may not seem significant, but they are to me. Little moments where what you do tells me that you love me.”
“I do,” he whispered. His other hand came up to your chin, urging you to look up at him. His lips pressed softly to yours in a sweet, chaste kiss that still made your heart skip a beat.
“Me too,” you mouthed, pecking his lips one more before pulling away.
“Get some rest, sweetheart,” he cooed, squeezing you in closer. “Let’s hope your migraine is better in the morning.”
“Mmhh, yeah,” you let out a giggle. “Gonna strip you down next. Say thank you for taking care of me.”
“Mhh, no need to thank me,” he chuckled. “ –’m just taking care of my girl.”
You shifted slightly, feeling something wrapped around you, holding you in close. Your grip tightened as you nuzzled in a little closer, taking in a deep breath. His body wash, you smiled to yourself. Dean. You were in Dean’s room. You spent the night with Dean after the hunt. He took care of you after you got a migraine. The pain from that had subsided, and you didn’t feel that pounding sensation anymore.
You slowly slipped out of his hold, careful not to wake him up from his peaceful sleep. You wanted to thank him for taking care of you one of the best ways you knew how. That was making him breakfast; his favourite breakfast.
Dean was the cook out of the three of you, but over time, he had taught you a thing or two when you had some alone time and Sam was nowhere to be found. You tightened his sweatpants by the drawstring before heading out of his bedroom. Thankfully it wasn't far from the kitchen, so he’d be able to smell the bacon soon enough.
You were going to go all out. Crispy bacon, just the way he liked it and lots of it. Some pancakes. Some scrambled eggs, with a bit of cheese in there, just to keep him on his toes. If you had some, you were even going to make some sausage to pull everything together.
You arrived in the kitchen, stepping down the two steps before heading over to grab the two frying pans that you were going to need. You knew which ones were the best, and Dean’s favourites to cook with, so you started there. You grabbed the pancake mix out of the cupboard first, along with the mixing bowl and the whisk. You grabbed the carton of eggs from the fridge and the package of bacon. Sadly, there was no sausage to bring it all together.
You found a good routine of pouring the pancake mix in the pan, and flipping the bacon in between. The pancakes were going to take the least amount of time out of everything. The bacon being the longest since you were making extra. The smell of it all filled the kitchen, making your stomach growl in the process. You remembered that you hadn’t had anything since yesterday at lunch and that ended up on the side of the road. You couldn’t wait to dive in.
“Smells incredible in here,” Dean’s gruff morning voice filled your ears, making you smile.
“Mornin’,” you greeted him, taking the pancake out of the pan, adding it to the growing plate. You felt a pair of hands grab your hips before his lips pressed to yours sweetly.
“Good morning to you,” he beamed, pecking your lips once more. “What’s all this?”
“Breakfast for my best friend,” you stated. “He kind of took care of me last night and I wanted to do something nice for him.”
“Pancakes, bacon and eggs,” he said. “Fuck, you are phenomenal.”
“I was going to make sausage too, but we’re out,” you told him.
“If you want sausage, I can give you something similar later,” he cooed. “Sammy around?”
“No,” you shook your head. “Haven’t seen him, dirty birdy.”
“You love it and you know it,” he muttered, pressing his lips to your neck.
“Mmmh, Dean. I’m cooking here,” you protested slightly.
“And you look damn gorgeous doing it too,” he reminded you. “Your head okay?”
“Feels a lot better than it did. Thank you,” you reassured him.
“An orgasm is supposed to help with headaches,” he chuckled.
“Now I know you’re making that up,” you let out a laugh, taking the bacon out of the pan, placing it on the plate with the paper towel on it.
“We can always test that theory out,” he wiggled his eyebrows as he released you from his hold. You watched as his adorable bowlegs took him over to the coffee maker. “Anything to help my girl.”
“Your girl?” Sam’s voice filled the room. “Did you two finally admit that you want one another?”
“No,” you shrugged. “We’re just friends, Sam.”
“Sure,” he rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, Sam,” Dean added in. “Just friends that love one another, and have super hot, incredible, mind-blowing sex.”
“Dean,” you breathed out.
“I’m tired of hiding it, Y/N. You’re my girl. You’re always going to be my girl.”
“About fucking time,” Sam stated, taking a seat at the table.
“Yeah,” you smirked. “You want breakfast too, Sammy? We’ve got pancakes, bacon and eggs.”
“No sausage?” he furrowed his brows.
“Not for you,” you giggled. “Dean’s all mine.”
“You both are disgusting,” he gagged, shaking his head.
“You encouraged all of this, Sammy,” Dean chuckled, bringing his coffee up to his lips. “Since we don’t have to hide it anymore. You should really invest in some noise cancelling headphones.”
“And you might want to leave the bunker this morning to go get them,” you winked.
“I’m happy for both of you,” he said, nodding his head. “I honestly am. You two deserve one another. Whether it be public or private. You’re good for each other.”
“I agree,” you grinned, glancing over at Dean. He was heading back to you with your mug in his hand. Your coffee just the way you liked it. He leaned forward, pecking your lips once more.
“Me too,” he beamed. “Me too.”
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Take One For The Team
Summary: The reader is hit with a fuck or die curse while on a witch hunt. Sam’s off to work a solution while Dean stays behind to help the reader buy some time by any means necessary...
Square: Fuck or Die
Pairing: Dean x reader
Word Count: 703
Warnings: mature (language, m/f unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, coming dry, fuck or die)
A/N: Written for @spnkinkbingo
“It’s a what?” said Dean, setting you down on the motel bed. You felt cold and off, chest heavy but your body twitchy. You’d been hit with some sort of curse by the witch you were hunting and since then, you could feel yourself getting weaker and weaker.
“Rowena knows her shit, Dean. If she says it’s some weird fuck or die curse, I’m gonna go ahead and believe her,” said Sam as he held his phone to his ear. Dean rolled his eyes and you arched your back, Dean reaching over and running a soothing touch over your head.
“How do we fix it?” asked Dean, Sam holding up a finger.
“It depends on the specific curse,” said Sam with a nod. “Ro says you can hold it off and help Y/N feel better if you, you know, have sex. At least until we got an answer.”
“Whatever,” said Dean, closing his eyes. “Sammy go work in the car or lobby or anywhere that’s not here.”
“There’s a diner across the lot. I’ll run over when we got something,” said Sam, quickly leaving. You sat up, wrapping your arms around your stomach. You shivered and Dean ripped off his shirt and jeans, pushing down his boxers and climbing onto the bed.
“I’m so cold,” you said, turning to lay on your side, squeezing your body so tight it might snap in half.
“We’ll fix it, just like we always do,” said Dean as he pulled down your jeans and underwear. He took them off your legs and rolled you to your back, hovering over top of you. “You’ll feel better in a second.”
His soft cock needed some guidance to slip through your folds but you felt the icy chill cease momentarily. He rocked into you slowly, your walls milking him, a quiet grunt falling from his lips. As he hardened, he picked up his pace and the coldness started to leave your bones, a smile falling over your face.
“It’s working,” you breathed out, Dean shifting to long, drawn out thrusts.
“Still okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. Save your energy. We don’t know how long we’re gonna be here for.”
Two hours later you were both drenched in sweat and Dean had his face scrunched up as you rode him. He was so sensitive but you were warm and fuzzy, no more pain creeping in on you.
Dean yelped as he came dry, again, and you did your best to slow down but you were so close to another orgasm. Your body felt like it was moving without you and you felt the bubble burst inside, a warm glow filling you up. You smiled again as Dean bit the corner of a motel pillow, hands fisted in it. You leaned forward and slid back down on him, Dean groaning loudly as the motel door opened.
You kept riding Dean, closing your eyes the same time Sam came in with his hand over his eyes, closing the door behind him.
“Exto inhul virtilatula,” he said. Suddenly you felt exhausted, sore and like your legs were on fire. You rolled off of Dean and onto the bed beside him, pulling the sheets over the two of you. “Did that work?”
“Mission accomplished,” you said, eyes shut tight. “We’re covered.”
Sam cleared his throat and you heard him move around the room some.
“Sam? Can you get some ice packs for Dean like asap? Maybe a cream too? He’s not doing so hot,” you said.
“Can do,” said Sam. “Dean you alright?”
You peeled open an eye and saw him with both shut. You put a finger to his neck and found his pulse slow but steady.
“I think I fucked him to sleep,” you said. “First time for everything?”
“Yeah...I’m gonna go get that stuff. I’ll be back with that and some dinner,” said Sam. “Call me if you need something.”
“Lotion?” you asked and he hummed before he left again. “Alright Dean. Thanks for taking one for the team, honey. I owe you one.”
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Summer Sweetheart Part 1
Warnings- Mentions of cancer, mentions of dying, cursing.
You sighed to yourself as you finally finished packing up your luggage and took a look around your dorm room. You were attending the University of California and you were in your second year. Your goal as a little girl was to become a veterinarian. You loved animals, and just wanted to help them. It was your dream. You wanted to eventually open up your own clinic but life has taken the wheel for the time being.
Your father, Bobby Singer was diagnosed with stage two lung cancer about a year ago. It was devastating, and it nearly turned your whole world upside down. You and your dad were very close, and you were always a daddy's girl. His chemotherapy was working for a while, and then it stopped working. Your coward of a mother, Karen left him. Apparently she couldn’t handle the heat.
You hated her, the thought of her made you feel sick to your stomach. You wanted to kick the shit out of her. Who the hell leaves their sick husband because they can’t handle it? What happened to sickness and health? He loved her so much and she was his entire world. He was absolutely devastated, not only did his cancer spread to stage four, his wife of almost twenty five years left him to basically rot and fend for himself.
That’s where you came in. Yeah, you had dreams and goals but your family always came first. He had no idea you were coming to move back home and you wanted to surprise him. You knew he would put up a front and tell you that he was fine but you knew him better than anyone else in the world. He had a good poker face, and he was a grump but he was your grump. You mess with him, you mess with you. It was like asking for a death sentence.
He would never admit to you that he was scared. But once again, you knew him better than anyone. Better than he knew himself. You were planning on taking care of him even if he didn’t want you to. You were taking a break from school so you could spend all of your time with him.
It was mid June, and you began the long journey home. It was really warm in Cali right now, and you had your window down with the wind blowing through your hair. You couldn’t wait to see the town you grew up in again. It’s been a while since you visited home. It was going to be about a day's drive so you left pretty early. After a few gas stops and fast food runs you were almost there. You smiled as you came across the sign that said, “Lawrence, 2 miles.”
You pulled into the old looking scrapyard, and giggled. It never changed. No matter how long it’s been, it never changed. You walked up to his front door, and knocked a couple of times. “What?” He answered grumpily as he opened the door, and paused when he realized who was on the other side.
“Kid, what the hell,-” You caught him off guard when you wrapped your arms around him. You inhaled the smell of gunpowder. He hugged you back after a few seconds, and pulled away. “Kid, this is certainly a surprise. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to move back home with you, that’s if you’ll let me.”
“What, what about school?”
“I took some time off.”
“I came home because I missed you. I wanted to see you.”
“I missed you too kid, c’mon in. We’ll worry about your bags later.” He says gesturing to you to the house. It was the same as you remembered. Your eyes fell onto a picture of the family portrait with your mother in it. You wanted to roll your eyes but out of respect for your dad you didn’t. She disgusted you.
You were only being partly honest with him. You didn’t want to tell him you were moving back home because you didn’t want him to be alone. You didn’t want to confess that you moved back home because you were there to take care of him.
Your eyes fell to the bottles of alcohol all over his table and it made you angry. “Dad, what’s with the liquor store?”
“I stopped treatment. I figured since I’m already dying, I might as well drink and eat the things I want.” He shrugged while sitting next to you at the table.
“Wait wait wait. I didn’t know that you were going to fully stop treatment. You said you were going to keep trying,-”
“I changed my mind. Why am I going to bother to pump poison into my veins when it’s useless anyways?”
“I-I,-” You sighed and fought back tears. “So that’s it then?”
“Kid, they said there was a slim chance that I could live through this doing the chemo. If there’s no guarantee then I would rather do the things I want to do rather than be sick and in hospitals with whatever time I have left.”
“How long…?” You whispered. You never wanted to know the answer to that question. But now you did.
“How long, dad?”
He sighed. “Four months.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach. You were expecting something like eighteen months, or maybe even a year. Only four months left?
“Hey, I ain’t dead yet.” He joked while noticing the tears forming in your eyes.
“That’s not even a little funny.” You said while wiping your nose with a tissue.
“Hey, it was a little funny.” He said while smiling, the crinkles by his eyes showing.
You gave him a small smile and looked at your lap. “How long do you plan on staying home and taking a break from school?”
“Well now, at least until after New Years.”
“You might have accepted the fact that you only have four months left but I’ve barely processed it. I want to spend the rest of the time here with you, at this rate, I won’t even get a Thanksgiving or Christmas with you. Do you realize how hard that is for me?” You ask while tearing up again.
“Don’t. Don’t ever say you’re sorry. It’s not your fault.” You sniffled. “Let’s just make this the happiest time that we can. Can you promise me one thing though?”
“Please stop drinking. Please.”
“Alright.” He sighed. “For you.”
You smiled at him, thankful for him making that promise. “I need a job.” You sighed while rubbing your temples.
“Do you remember my friend, Ellen Harvelle?”
“Uh...vaguely. I think I was twelve the last time I saw her.”
“Well she owns a bar right around the corner. I’m sure she’d love to have you around.”
“I’ll check it out. Thanks dad.”
“Anytime. Now I say, let’s forget about the bad shit until we have to worry about it, have a great summer together and let’s start it off by ordering a pizza. Sounds good?”
“Yeah dad. Sounds good.” You plastered the fakest smile you could. You were dying on the inside. You were going to lose your best friend, and you were devastated.
“Oh yeah by the way if anyone asks...your mother is on vacation with her mother in South Dakota.”
You looked at him with a blank face, “You never told anyone that she left?”
“I-I, no. I’m just embarrassed and don’t want anyone to know. I don’t want anyone to bash her or deal with the fake sympathies. Please don’t utter a word, kid.”
You sighed. “Alright, fine.”
It was just like old times and you forgot that your dad was sick for a little while. It was nice catching up after not seeing him for months. You were the only one who could make him throw his head back in laughter the way he did. If you didn’t know he was sick then you would never even suspect it. He was still the same old grunt that you’ve always known. After more talking you realized it was close to midnight.
“Alright, I’m going to head to bed. Everything is the same, your room is still the same as you left it the last time you were here. Just holler if you need me.”
“Okay. Goodnight dad, I love you.”
“You too, kid.”
You looked around and shook your head with a fond smile. Everything literally was still the same as it was. Except the dishes were piled up, and it looked like the carpet needed a vacuum. You always loved to clean so anything out of place was making you cringe. First thing in the morning you were going to tidy up the whole place.
You locked everything up and headed to your old bedroom. Flicking on the light you smiled as nostalgia hit you. Same bed comforter, all the furniture in the same spot. You set your suitcase on the floor before sitting on the bed with a sigh. You were so tired from driving and from the bad news all you wanted to do was sleep.
Waking up the next morning the smell of coffee filled your nose. You yawned and threw on a flannel that was probably your dads at some point. Walking into the kitchen he was reading the paper while sipping on his coffee.
“Morning kid.” He greeted you.
“Morning. Do you want some breakfast?”
“Nah, I’m sure John has some bagels or donuts of some sort at the shop. I’ll just munch on something then.”
“You’re still at the shop?”
“With John...John Lancaster?”
“Winchester. We’re partners at the garage.”
“He knows about..you know?”
“The stage four cancer? Yeah he knows. You can say the word you know. It’s not going to kill me.” He joked.
“Dad, I swear if you continue with the cancer jokes,-”
“You’ll do nothing.” He joked. “Anyways, I’m off to work. Are you going to Harvelle’s today?”
“Yeah, most likely. I need a job.”
“It gets busy there, especially on the weekends. You might make some nice tips.”
“Thanks. Well, have a good day.”
“See ya later kid.”
You watched as he drove his old pick up out of the driveway and you smiled. It was only 8:00 in the morning. You figured you’d get some cleaning done first, then shower, then job hunt.
You looked through your dad's kitchen for cleaning supplies, and gagged. Everything was dusty and disgusting. Dishes piled up, the bathroom needed to desperately be cleaned, everything was a shit show. You didn’t even know where to start.
You decided on the bathroom, it was definitely the dirtiest and would take the longest. You finally found some cleaning supplies and got to work. Firstly with cleaning the shower, sink and toilet. Then you did a good sweep and mop. You finished it off with an apple cinnamon air freshener. Satisfied with your work, you moved onto the kitchen.
After washing the dishes, you decided to organize all the cabinets. You got all of the garbage together and swept and mopped in there as well. You looked in your dad's room and cringed at all of the laundry. You decided to throw a load in.
Your room wasn’t all that bad, so you just unpacked all of your belongings and dusted, as well as sweeping and mopping. After finishing up the rest of the house you looked around at your work, you huffed in approval and exhaustion. It was way different, and it was definitely missing a female touch. You then thought about your mother.
You still couldn’t believe she left your father. He was extremely sick and he was dying. You tried to call her when she first left to give her a piece of your mind but she didn’t return any of your phone calls. She was dead to you as far as you were concerned, and when the inevitable happened, you weren’t going to contact her. If she couldn’t stick around when he was alive, she shouldn’t be bothered when he was gone.
You showered, and threw on a casual outfit before looking at the time. It was after 2 o’clock, and it was job searching time. You found Harvelle’s in no time, and headed inside. It didn’t have many people in there, mainly just people passing through. You walked up to the bar and there was a middle aged woman wiping down the counter, “Hey sweetie! What can I get for ya?” She asked while throwing the rag over her shoulder and wiping the sweat off her forehead.
“Hi, I just moved back in town and I’m looking for a job. Are you hiring?”
“Have you ever been a bartender before?”
“No, I’ve been a server before. I know it’s not really the same thing but I’ve worked with customer service since I was sixteen, I’m twenty four now.”
“Okay. No problem! We’d love to have ya. My name is Ellen, Ellen Harvelle. What’s your name?”
“Y/n, Y/n Singer.”
“Singer...any relation to Bobby?”
“He’s my father.”
“Oh my god! Now I know why you look so familiar! God, you’re a spitting image of your mother honey! How are they doing these days?”
“Mom’s on vacation with my grandma in South Dakota.” God, you hated lying for that bitch. It was only out of respect for your dad, you told yourself.
“And...how’s your dad? He doin’ alright?” She asked with noticeable sympathy in her eyes.
“Yeah, you know.. As good as he can be.”
“Yeah. So come in on Friday, you can wear whatever you want, but obviously nothing too flashy. Obviously you want good tips, but this ain’t a strip club you know what I mean?” She winked and you let out a laugh.
She could tell you wanted to change the subject, so you were grateful she dropped it. You already liked Ellen. She seemed friendly enough. You could tell why your dad liked her.
“Okay. Thank you so much Ellen. I’ll see you Friday, uhh what time?”
“Oh yeah, duh. Umm...come in around five? I can introduce you to the rest of the staff and can show you around a little before you get to work.”
“Okay, thanks! See you then.”
“Bye Y/n!” She says while waving and then taking care of another customer.
Mission accomplished. You cleaned the house up, and got a job. It wasn’t too late, so you decided to do a little grocery shopping. Your dad didn’t have much, and you wanted to fill his fridge and cabinets.
You picked up everything he liked, before picking out things for yourself as well. It was now after five, and you knew your dad would be home soon. You carried the bags into the house and your dad was watching tv with his feet stacked up on the table.
“Hey kid. You know, you didn’t have to tidy up the way you did. Or buy groceries.” He says as he eyed the bags in your arms. “Kid,-”
“I wanted to dad. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be back.” You say before setting the bags on the counter and going to gather the rest of them from your car. “More? Kid!,-”
“Dad! Stop.” You giggle, “It’s completely fine! I wanted to. Please.”
He sighed and shook his head. “God, so stubborn.” He chuckled.
You unpacked the groceries and smiled before lighting a candle. The smell of lavender filled the kitchen and you began dinner for the two of you. “It smells great in here, what are you makin’?”
“Breaded chicken with red potatoes and carrots.” You say while easily making your way around the kitchen. “I love cooking.”
“Your mom taught you everything you know.” He says while grabbing silverware and waiting for you to join him at the table.
“Dad, let’s not talk about her, please.” You say while serving him a plate before grabbing one for yourself.
“Alright, you win.” He sighed
“But seriously? I let you womanize this house, fine. You organized everything all girly, fine. But I’ll be damned if you light up some bath and body works candles in this house.” He says before blowing it out and you begin to laugh. He really never changed. He never acted like he was sick or dying. He acted like the same old gruff you always knew. You couldn’t wait to have a summer filled with great memories, you were going to put the fact that he was sick on the back burner for now, and cross that bridge when shit hit the fan.
Dean Taglist- @agirlwithdemonblood, @akshi8278, @penguinlover0318, @lyarr24, @deanandsamsbitch, @katbratsupernaturalwhore, @flamencodiva, @avanatural
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Dude, I Got A Girlfriend
Summary: Based on 12x11 “Regarding Dean.” Dean is progressively losing his memories. Sam calls Y/N to keep an eye on his brother. Dean has no idea who she is to him, and it turns out she doesn’t quite know, either. Or does she?
Pairing: Dean x female Reader
Category: Fluff, slight angst
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: Memory loss, implied sexual content (nothing graphic)
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Y/N knocked, letting her fist collide with the door impatiently. Something was wrong with Dean. Sam hadn’t told her exactly what it was over the phone. A feeling of dread began to rise inside her chest when neither of the boys opened the door.
“Sam? Dean?”, she yelled through the plywood. Nothing.
Just when she was about to step away from the door to try the window, it was pulled open – slowly, tentatively. Her eyes caught sight of Dean, who was looking down at her with wide green eyes. He looked surprised to see her. As though he had no idea what she wanted there.
“Hey. You alright?”, she asked.
His forehead furrowed. “Who are you?” Then he looked across the motel room at Sam, his finger pointing toward her, “Who is this?”
Y/N’s eyes met Sam’s. She raised her eyebrows at him expectantly and passed Dean to enter the motel room.
Sam raised his hands in defense. “Dean’s been hexed.”
Before she could even think about a response, Dean stepped in front of her. His hands grabbed strands of her hair and let them run through his fingers. “Your hair is, like, super pretty,” he commented absentmindedly, smiling to himself.
Y/N tilted her head, a small and very confused chuckle leaving her lips. “Uhm, thanks?”
“You’re welcome.” Dean beamed at her, looking like a kid in a candy store. “Sam, why don’t you introduce us?”
Sam clenched his jaw, running a desperate hand through his hair, making Y/N wonder how long he had already put up with this new version of his older brother. “Because you already know her, Dean.”
Dean’s head perked up at those words. “What, I already- How could I forget?” His eyes searched her facial features intently, trying to figure out how he knew her.
Y/N placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been cursed, remember?”
He nodded, a dumbfounded expression covering his face. He slowly looked at her hand on his shoulder and within a matter of seconds, his face lit up again. “Are you… my girlfriend or somethin’?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it just as quickly. She retreated her hand.
“Yeah, Y/N, are you his girlfriend or something?”, Sam took the opportunity to tease her, giving her a small grin.
Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother. “Wait, so you’re forgetting things now, too?”
A frustrated groan escaped Sam’s mouth. He turned to Y/N. “You know what? I gotta get a hold of the witch that cursed him, so I would really appreciate it if you could… I don’t know, babysit him for a while.”
Y/N watched as Sam grabbed his brown jacket and put it on.
“So, what’s your name?”, Dean asked her.
She released a long sigh. “Y/N.”
“Y/N,” he repeated, the name rolling off of his tongue. Excitedly, Dean turned to his brother. “Dude, I got a girlfriend. Look at her.”
Sam nodded once. “Yes. Now stay with her until I’m back.”
Dean tilted his head. “Back from where?”
Sam had already shut the door behind himself, though.
A very confused Dean turned to Y/N. “Where is he going?”
“He’s going to cure you,” she replied as she slipped off her jacket.
“Oh,” was all he managed to get out when he saw her tight black tank top, his eyes roaming her torso with appreciation.
“Dean!” She snapped her fingers in front of his handsome face, catching his attention, “Do you remember anything at all?”
“I, uh, I remember… Hey, is that Scooby-Doo?” He sprinted off towards the tv, sitting down on the edge of one of the beds.
“Wow…,” Y/N mumbled to herself, “You got the attention span of a one-year-old.” She followed him to the bed and sat down with him, keeping her distance. Her hands were clasped in her lap.
Dean’s gaze was glued to the silly-looking dog on screen. He snickered at every little thing that Scooby-Doo and his friends did. It was almost endearing to see the great, tough Dean Winchester this way – so sated, so vulnerable. He looked happy.
“Why are you starin’ at me?”, Dean’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
“Why are you staring at me? Don’t you like the show?” He actually looked disappointed at the thought of her not enjoying Scooby-Doo. There was a deep frown on his face, as though he couldn’t imagine anything worse.
“I… Of course, I like it,” she replied, giving him a reassuring smile.
He grinned at her and took one of her hands in his, lacing his fingers through hers. She blinked at him a few times. For him, the action seemed to go without saying.
She let him hold her hand for a while, just sitting there and pretending to watch the cartoon. Y/N laughed whenever Dean laughed, not wanting to upset him again.
“What was your name again?”, he asked after a while, his forehead wrinkling in concentration as he tried to remember.
“I like that,” he complimented.
“What do we normally do for fun? You and I?”
She swallowed. “Oh, uh…”
“We’re not a couple, Dean,” she clarified, immediately wondering if that was the right thing to say.
His eyebrows shot up. “I thought you’re my… Uh… What was it?”
“Girlfriend,” he said the word as though he’d never heard it before, “Yes.”
“But I feel… Something. Something good.”
“Well, we normally feel really comfortable around each other,” she said. “We hunt together sometimes. We go to bars, get drunk. We even cooked together last month. And…”
“And…?”, he inquired, his eyes wide with interest.
“Never mind. We’re close.”
He nodded, slowly letting go of her hand. “I wish I could remember.”
“You will remember soon,” she tried to reassure him, “Sam is gonna cure you.”
Y/N bit her bottom lip to keep herself from sighing in frustration. “Hey, what do you think about looking through some photos? Maybe they’ll help you remember.”
“Photos of what?”
“Of you. Of you and Sam.”
“What about you?”
“We don’t really take pictures together, Dean.”
“Oh.” He looked at her as though his kite was stuck in a tree. Full-blown disappointment.
She tried to ignore his reaction and stood up, heading for the table where his wallet was placed. She grabbed it and when she turned around, Dean was right there. He had followed her, causing her to collide with his body.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, a shy, sweet smile visible on his face.
“That’s okay,” she replied and opened his wallet. She knew he kept some photos hidden in there. She found some photographs in one of the pockets and took them out, holding the shimmering pieces of paper between her fingers.
The one on top was of Sam and Dean, happy expressions on their faces as they laughed about something over some bottles of beer.
“Here, look. That’s you and Sam,” she said and held the picture out for him to look.
Dean stared at it, the corners of his mouth turning upwards. “Sam is…”
“Your brother,” she reminded him, and he nodded. It pained her to see him like that, forgetting such important things. Forgetting the things that made him who he was. “See? There’s another picture of you two.”
She handed him a photo of him and Sam on a fishing trip, both of them wearing sunglasses.
“We like to go fishing?”, Dean asked.
“Well, you don’t like it so much. You’re more an action type of guy.”
“Yeah. Shooting range. Gambling. Working on your car. That kinda thing.”
He pursed his lips, nodding his head as he tried to picture the type of person that he was. “I sound like a badass.”
She laughed softly. “That’s right.” Y/N moved on to the next picture. It was one of Dean working his magic under the hood of his car. “Look, you’re working on your Baby in this one.”
He looked confused, a clueless crease forming between his eyebrows. “My baby?”
“Your car,” she clarified, “You call her Baby.”
“Hm…”, Dean hummed, “I can see why.”
She smiled at him. Baby never failed to please him. “Yeah… She’s a beauty.” Y/N moved on to the last picture. She stopped in her tracks, her smile fading slowly. She recognized it.
“Hey, I like that one!”, the green-eyed hunter exclaimed, pointing at the picture of her.
On the photo, Y/N was sitting in the bunker library. Cup of coffee in hand. Laughing about one of Dean’s jokes. Hair disheveled. Wearing Dean’s flannel after a night of passion.
“I didn’t know you kept this,” she told him, momentarily forgetting that he probably didn’t know about it, either. She had completely forgotten that he’d taken a photo of her that day.
“What, me? Whose wallet is that?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it just as quickly. She gave Dean a sweet smile and put the wallet back on the table. She took his hand in hers and squeezed. “Wanna watch some more Scooby-Doo with your girlfriend?”
The way he beamed at her was enough of an answer.
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Dean Winchester x Plus size!reader
Word Count: 2872 words
Summary: The reader gets insecure about her weight compared to Dean’s usual type, causing her to hide her feelings for him.
You loved Dean.
Of course you did.
It would have been impossible not to care about him.
He was charming and selfless, not to mention the fact that he had literally saved your life and countless others in the five years that you’d known him. He was basically a superhero.
Everyday, Dean gave you more and more reasons to admire him, not that you would ever admit that to him.
Just because you were aware of how you felt about him didn’t mean that you and Dean were going to be together. After all, you had decided to keep this from him a long time ago for a reason.
You knew that it would never work out.
You had more than enough proof to know that even if you were to tell him the truth, he would blow you off.
In the time that you had been with them, you had learned quite a bit about both Sam and Dean but nothing stuck with you quite as much as Dean’s night time activities.
He liked to bar hop, which wasn’t that big of a deal on its own, but he also had quite the additional curious habit.
Everywhere you went, he always picked up a girl, usually a different girl every night.
It was never the same one twice.
You had no idea how he could have ever kept track of all of them because there were so many, but you certainly weren’t blind. There was always one thing about the women Dean brought back to his hotel that was the same.
The women themselves
They were always younger than him, blonde, and thinner than you had ever been in your entire life. There had only been a few exceptions to that rule and even then, they were redheads or something.
He had never had a woman over that looked anything like you.
Of course, you couldn’t fault them for that but it definitely had a huge part in why you struggled so badly with your feelings for Dean.
He had a type, one type of woman he was attracted to, and you weren’t that.
In fact, you knew that you never could be. You had been this way all your life and that wasn’t going to change now.
You were who you were.
Though, that didn’t mean you were any less heartbroken over it because the facts remained.
At some point during the years you had been staying with them,you had fallen completely and totally in love with him.
Dean was everything that you had ever wanted in your life. He was smart and brave, always willing to risk everything for those he loved. He was a dream, but in being such, you found yourself living a nightmare.
Since telling Dean about the feelings you had for him wasn’t an option, you had to button them up inside yourself.
The hope was that eventually, if you buried your feelings down deep enough, they would go away.
They had to, or else you were going to drive yourself crazy, running around your own head in circles. More than anything, you wanted to just get over this pointless crush.
...but you couldn’t, which somehow, wasn’t even the worst part.
The worst part was how blind Dean had managed to remain during this whole thing.
Had he been paying attention, he would have noticed how much his flirting affected you but he wasn’t, which really seemed to always be the problem for you.
You felt like he never paid much attention to you at all.
Even now, he was standing on the other side of the bar, drooling over the bartender, a slim blonde in low cut jeans.
You had asked him to go get you another drink half an hour ago but it seemed like he’d forgotten about that.
It seemed like he had forgotten a lot of things, including the case that the three of you were working. Not that it was too big of a deal though, surely whatever it was ripping out hearts would wait for Dean to get laid.
“Guess I have to buy my own drinks tonight” you sighed, standing from the booth, addressing your words to Sam.
The other male only hummed in acknowledgement of your voice but you knew he wasn’t listening so you gathered your empty bottles and headed to the bar.
If Dean wasn’t going to help you and Sam do research or get you a drink, you’d do it yourself.
You normally did that anyway.
“Can I get two more?” you hummed, holding the bottles by their necks up to the doe eyes bartender, who didn’t seem to see you at all. She was far too focused on Dean and his bubbly charm, which only sparkled more as he drank.
You knew what it was like to be on the other end of that sparkling gaze but this was ridiculous.
It was almost like you weren’t here at all.
The feeling wasn’t new.
Finally, you cleared your throat in a desperate attempt for her to look at you, which she did reluctantly. “Just two more, please” you repeated, turning your attention to Dean, who seemed to have time for you now that she was in the cooler.
“I was working on it” he shrugged, naturally assuming that the reason you were so snippy was because you’d had to get your own drink.
If only he realized just how deep this went.
It was much more than a beer.
More than anything, your feelings were hurt.
Every time you came out here with Sam and Dean, you always felt like something was going to change. You had hope that Dean would stay with you, and give some attention to the case you were working, but it never happened.
There was always something so much more important to him than you.
That was never going to change.
He just didn’t see you.
“Yeah, I know” you sighed, not bothering to hide the upset you were feeling. This evening was turning out to be much more difficult for you than you assumed it would be when you left the cheap motel.
This was supposed to be easy.
Everything with Sam and Dean was supposed to be easy but for some reason, it just wasn’t.
Dean wouldn’t let it be easy.
“You mad about something? I know Sam isn't the best company” he hummed, not catching on to what was going on as he joked, because of course he wasn’t. Dean had always been blind to this sort of thing.
You couldn’t even blame him, because it wasn’t like he knew any better.
He had no clue what you were fighting with.
“No, I’m just tired. I think I’m gonna get going” you decided, not even bothering to stick around long enough to get the beers you had been waiting on for Sam. The last thing you wanted was to have to get between Dean and his lady friend again.
It would just be better for all of you if you went back to the motel and went to bed.
It wasn’t ideal, of course, because you and Sam still had quite a bit to get done but you knew that if you didn’t get out of here soon, you were going to drive yourself crazy.
You could get a fresh start with Sam in the morning, you were sure he wouldn't mind.
In general, the younger of the Winchesters was always gentle to you and wouldn’t argue over whatever it was you needed.
...And right now, all you needed was space.
“Wait, hold on. Are you sure you’re okay? You were alright earlier?” Dean questioned, finally pulling himself away from the bar to follow you across the space, finally looking in your direction.
All it took was a near breakdown on your part.
“Well now I’m not. Now I’m leaving” you sighed, hoping that he would just let you go back to the motel without too much of a fight. The two of you didn’t really talk about this kind of stuff, and you weren’t in the mood to start now.
It would just make it more difficult.
Though, clearly, today was a day unlike any other because Dean wasn’t about to let you off the hook on this one.
Something didn’t feel right.
“Okay, let me grab Sam, we’ll all go” he decided, doing that ever frustrating Dean thing that he always did right when you weren’t in the mood to deal with it.
For whatever reason, tonight he was in the mood to get to the bottom of this and nothing was going to keep him from doing so.
Whatever it was that was on your mind, you weren't going to get out of telling him all about it.
Besides, it wasn’t like you could actually go anywhere without him if you wanted to leave the bar. It was a couple miles back to the motel and even if you had it in your head that you were going to walk, it wasn’t safe.
Until they narrowed down where this thing was and why it was killing people, there was no way Dean was going to let you go out on your own.
The last thing he or Sam needed right now was you getting stolen or killed by whatever monster was stalking around here.
“Dean, don’t!” you whisper-yelled, grabbing at his wrist to pull him back as you spoke through gritted teeth. The last thing you wanted to do was include Sam in all of this, that would be even more humiliating than having to tell Dean.
It was clear that it would be much better for both of you if you just told him what was going on and got it over with but you just weren’t sure that you could.
Everything would change once you did that and you weren’t ready to face that quite yet. If he rejected you, as you suspected he would, you would have to live with that everyday for as long as you stayed with them, or you may have to leave.
...And on the off chance that he returned your feelings, which you were sure that he didn’t, the two of you could never be friends again.
There was just no good way to go about it.
Not that Dean was really planning on giving you a choice.
You had been being weird for way too long, and whatever was bothering you wasn’t going to just go away on its own. If it was going to, it would have done it a long time ago. Something had been off for a while, and he was starting to get worried.
When hunters got too much on their mind, they died, it was as simple as that.
He couldn’t afford for whatever had been bothering you lately to get you killed, and considering the fact that you were currently planning on leaving the bar at almost midnight by yourself, you were closer now than you ever had been.
“What is going on with you?” he repeated, closing the space between you again just as you wanted but you knew that you were going to have to tell him now. If you didn’t want this whole thing to get blown way out of proportion with the whole bar, you’d have to be honest with him.
...But you weren’t going to do it here.
There were too many people, and while the thought of telling Dean what you were going to tell him made you want to crawl into a hole and die, telling him in front of a ton of drunk strangers was even worse.
Without a word, you took Dean’s hand in your own and led him out the bar’s front door. Leaving the loud, crowded bar brought momentary relief to you but that was quickly snatched away by the dark night and the chilling silence it offered instead.
“I don’t understand” you started, tugging your flannel that much tighter to your body as you adjusted to the night air instead of that inside the stale bar. You knew that there was only one way this could end, but you had to get it out.
Holding it in was only torturing you.
Again, that look crossed his face, the sort of look that Dean always wore when he had something he needed to say but you couldn’t let him.
Right now, you just needed him to listen, which wasn’t exactly any of the Winchester’s strong suit. You had to get this out before you could lose all the nerve you had built up in the four or so years you’d been hiding this.
“I watch you fall at their feet all the time. Sometimes all they have to do is look at you and that’s more than enough, but you couldn’t be more blind when it comes to me” you sighed, riding the momentary wave of courage your nerve provided.
You had been holding this all in forever, and now that it was on the cusp of being out in the open, you didn’t get to worry about the consequences anymore.
You were tired of holding it in and you weren’t going to apologize for that either.
“What about you? Y/N, you aren’t making any sense” he tried, starting to get worried about you for a completely different reason. He had no idea what you were doing here, or why this was all coming out now, but more than anything, he was lost.
You clearly had something you were hiding from him but he had no idea how he was supposed to know what it was.
From where he was sitting, the two of you were close, and there was no reason you couldn’t tell him whatever happened. He had saved your life, and you had done the same for him on many occasions, nothing could override that.
He was always going to be here for you.
“I love you, you idiot” you groaned, turning away from him completely, your hands rubbing over your face as you tried to calm yourself down. You should have known that he would never let this sort of thing happen naturally.
It wasn’t in his nature.
Neither was knowing what to say.
All Dean could do was wait here, staring at your back in stunned silence. He knew that he should do something, that he should turn you around and kiss you like he’d always wanted to or say something at the very least.
...but he couldn’t.
Dean had no idea what he should do or say, because what was there to say? Apologizing wouldn’t do either of you any good because he had been blind, yes, but you also hadn’t told him how you were feeling until now.
In that way, you were both wrong.
“Why didn’t you say something?” he muttered, doing his best to be as casual as he could, though every cell in his body was screaming for him to do something more. This was his shot, the one thing he’d always really wanted, and he was letting it slip through his fingers.
You didn’t know.
The best answer to his question was that you were scared, but you didn’t want to admit that to Dean. You didn’t want to tell him that you were insecure, that you hated yourself in comparison to those stunning girls he usually brought around.
None of that really felt right, even if it was the truth.
“What could I have said? It’s not like you were really interested, so I didn’t see the point” you allowed, turning back around to face him once you were sure that you weren’t going to lose your mind completely.
You had some kind of handle on this, at the very least, even if it wasn’t the best.
That, of all this, really got a rise out of Dean.
Of course he was interested.
Traditionally, he had a bit of a type which he assumed you were referring to but there was a reason he had never settled down with those women. He couldn’t be the kind of man who stayed in a small town, married with kids.
It wasn’t in the cards for him, but you were something different. You weren’t a girl he’d have to hide things from or explain his entire life away from for a night or two. You were part of this, and you knew the hunter’s life better than anyone.
Being with you wouldn’t be like being with them.
In theory, it should have been easier but that wasn’t all that you were talking about.
“I’m more than interested, just so we’re clear” Dean shrugged, hoping that you would understand what he was going for even if he wasn’t good at putting it into words when it came to you.
The two of you were talking about a friendship you’d been nurturing for a long time and the changes that friendship would go through if you were to be together.
It wasn’t something either of you knew how to deal with, but at least now you had some idea of where to go from here
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Welcome to Being a Girl - Dean Winchester Oneshot
Summary: When a spell puts you in Dean’s body and Dean in yours, there’s more than one problem that arises.
Tags: body swap, spell, crack, smut, masturbation (M&F), dirty talking, use of sex toys
WC: ± 4.2K
@winchesterandbeyondbingo Square Filled: Body Swap
A/Ns: There is a sequel to this fic, written by the lovely @wonder-cole that you should DEFINITELY check out!!
Dean Winchester Masterlist // SPN Bingos Masterlists
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As you slowly wake up, your whole body feels heavier than usual, and you groan as you roll onto your side. Something feels weird, and as you blink your eyes open and stare at the wall ahead of you, you try to figure it out. Maybe it was just a weird dream, it’s just... something feels different, and you still can’t put your finger on it. You reach up and rub at your face, your hands feeling large and more calloused than usual. It’s then you realise that you’re not in your own bedroom, you’re in Dean’s. You sit up a little and quickly look to the other side of the bed, expecting to see him there. Fuck did you actually sleep with the man you’ve had a hard crush on for the last several months and not remember it?! But the bed beside you is empty, and Dean’s nowhere to be found. Then why the hell are you in Dean’s bed?
You glance down your body, wondering if you’re fully clothed at least, but as you look you realise very quickly that’s not your body. You reach up to grope your own chest but there’s nothing there, and when you lift the covers and look underneath, all you’re wearing is a pair of small black boxer shorts and there’s something inside. The scream that leaves your mouth is several tones lower than your usual voice, and you practically fall out of bed and straighten up, realising you’re taller than usual too. Holding your hands out in front of you, you look at them carefully. Being a hunter means you’ve never been one for long, pretty manicured nails, but they definitely aren’t your hands. Too chunky and manly, and given the fact that there’s something creating a slight bulge in your boxers and your breasts are missing, you realise very quickly that you must be a man somehow.
You rush to the mirror in Dean’s room and almost fall over getting to it, but once you do, and you see your reflection, you yell again. It’s not even you, you’re not just some male version of yourself – you’re Dean. You lean closer to the mirror, staring right back at green eyes and noticing freckles dusted along your cheeks and nose. What the fuck is going on?! This is just some really messed up dream, any second now you’re going to wake up in your own bed, in your own body and everything will be fine. Sam. Sam will know what to do. If this isn’t a dream then it has to be a spell or a curse, and he’ll know the antidote, surely? He can at least find it.
But before you can storm out of your – Dean’s – bedroom in only a pair of boxers, you remember that you – real you – and Sam are actually in another state right now, supposedly hunting a – that little bitch. You clamber around Dean’s bedroom and find his cell, dialling Sam’s number as quickly as you can. Your heart – or you suppose, Dean’s heart – is thudding as you wait for Sam to answer.
“Dean? You know we’re like three hours behind, right?” Sam yawns.
“Sam, I’m not Dean,” you explain quickly, “Dean is there with you.”
“What the– Dean what are you talking about?” Sam strains out, his voice still thick with sleep.
“I know I sound like Dean, but I’m not… just wake me– Y/N up,” you demand, panicked.
“What the hell is going on? Have you taken something?” Sam huffs. “Wait, what the fuck have you done with my brother if you’re not Dean?” Sam asks immediately, suddenly clearly in protective brother mode.
“Sammy?” You can hear your own voice sound out. “Wait why does my voice– SAMMY!” You’re relieved to hear Dean freaking out in the background, because at least that means that you’re not going crazy. Somehow – three guesses thanks to the witch you’ve been tracking – Dean is now you and you are now Dean. “Sammy, why the fuck do I have tits?!”
“What the hell is going on?!” Sam shouts.
“Somehow, I’ve woken up in Dean’s body and Dean’s obviously woken up in mine,” you explain, irritably.
“DUDE, MY DICK IS GONE!”
“Dean, calm down, this is just some spell, clearly.”
“Is that Y/N? Is she in my body? Is everything okay?!” Dean panics.
“Yes, everything’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna get to the bottom of this and get you back in your own bodies, okay?” he seemingly tells both of you.
You feel a little calmer that Sam’s now on the case, and you take some deep breaths and tell yourself it’ll be fine. You can be a dude for the day, it’s no issue.
“Sam, put Dean on the phone,” you demand.
“Yeah?” your own voice sounds down the phone.
“Dean, I swear to God you better not do anything to hurt my body. I mean, preferably, just don’t touch it.”
“What about when I need to pee?!
“Well obviously you need to pee!” You argue, sighing. “Just… in and out,” you tell him.
“Right, okay,” he confirms.
“Aren’t you gonna tell me not to look and touch?” you prompt.
“Nope, I’ve not got anything to be embarrassed about, see for yourself,” your voice giggles.
“Oh, gross, Dean,” you complain.
“Take it on a test drive for all I care. You’ve always wanted to have a dick for a day, right? I’ve heard most girls wanna know what it’s like,” Dean continues.
“I’m hanging up now, just don’t be a creep. Tell Sam to call me with any news.”
You grimace as you throw Dean’s phone down onto the bed. Well, looks like you’re stuck like this for however long it takes for Sam to find the cure. You can just imagine Dean now, looking down your top at your boobs just because he can. Just the thought makes you feel violated. You sigh and start to look around his room for some clothes to dress in, but everything you pick up smells or is dirty.
“Dude, seriously?” you huff quietly to yourself, dropping a funky smelling shirt. You head over to Sam’s bedroom, knowing he’ll have something in there at least, and finally find a plain black t-shirt that doesn’t smell like sweat or beer. You pull it on and then rummage for some pants, finding a pair of sweatpants that’ll do the trick. They’re slightly too long on the leg, but they’ll do at least for now. You can’t help but notice that Dean’s clothes aren’t the only thing that smells though, and you crinkle your nose as you head towards the bathroom.
You stop as you step up to the toilet, and realise that this is gonna be different. Do you actually have to hold it? Aim it in the right direction? Dean didn’t seem bothered about you seeing or touching it, but you feel like you’re violating him in so many ways. But you do really need to pee. Your eyes land on the bathtub and the shower overhead and you purse your lips. Dean does need to take a shower, and maybe you could just pee whilst you shower so you don’t have to touch it. And you don’t have to look either. You can just stand under the water and clean yourself. You’re happy with your solution and lean over to turn the shower on, letting the water warm up and you strip your – Dean’s, no, Sam’s – clothes, and make a point of not looking between Dean’s legs as you step into the shower and under the water.
The majority of the shower goes pretty well, you’re able to avoid looking at and touching Dean’s pride and joy, and step out and grab a towel, enjoying the novelty of only needing to wrap a towel around your waist, though your chest does feel a little chilly as you head back towards Dean’s room with Sam’s clothes in hand. You thankfully find new boxers that aren’t the ones you woke up in and place them with the shirt and sweats on the bed, before starting to dry yourself off. You don’t think much of rubbing over your – Dean’s – body with the towel until you get to drying the tops of your legs. Your hand rubs against your crotch and you feel a slight throb between your legs. You continue, more cautiously this time, but apparently the thing isn’t gonna stop. Jesus, who knew they were so sensitive? You barely even touched it. It’s not like Dean’s a teenage boy and just pitches a tent for no random reason.
But then you consider the fact you’ve just been rubbing your hands all over Dean’s naked body. Something you’ve dreamed about doing a lot since you met the green eyed hunter, and who are you kidding? It might not be exactly respectful, and you’ve been trying your best to pretend you don’t wanna see it, but you are curious. Besides, right now, you guess it’s your body. You’re the one that’s gotta look after it and make sure it’s doing okay for the next however long you’re stuck in there. And the idea of Dean getting your body off is kinda hot. Imagine him unable to resist looking, and then touching. Fuck. You need to stop even thinking about it, between your legs feels heavier than before, and when you finally look down your body, you see it.
“Fuck,” you gasp out. Dean hadn’t been lying when he said he had nothing to be embarrassed about. It still looks like it’s growing more, a slight tugging feeling as it starts to bob a little in front of you. He’s fairly thick, and a decent length, though admittedly, you’ve never seen a dick from this angle before. And now you just need to work out how to make it go away, because your head is feeling slightly fuzzy as you stare at it, and you’re extremely tempted to touch it, just to know what it feels like for a man when he has an erection. Like a science experiment. Yeah, it’s a science experiment. You’re never gonna have this opportunity again. And it would come in useful to know how different things feel, just out of curiosity, and maybe it’ll help when you’re with guys in the future. Plus, Dean did say you could take it on a test drive.
No, you can’t do that. You can’t just touch it, it’s not yours to touch, even if you have thought – in great detail – about touching it before. Dean was probably joking about the test drive thing. You just need it to go away. Don’t guys think about dead kittens or something? You decide to try it, but your mind just keeps drifting back to the issue and how you could resolve it – fuck. What’s something that Dean doesn’t like? Imagine Sam naked, that’ll do it. He’s probably muscly everywhere, and hey, any girl would be blind to not see how attractive that guy is. You try to imagine what his cock would look like. Would it be thicker like Dean’s? Longer maybe. You feel a throb between your legs and notice that it’s not helping. Ew, does Dean like his own brother?!
You huff, frustrated, and grab Dean’s cell again, opting to call your own number.
“Yeah?” comes your own voice. Still weird.
“Urm, I’ve got a problem and I don’t know how to get rid of it,” you explain awkwardly.
“What kind of problem? Is everything okay? What have you done?” Dean panics.
“I didn’t do anything! I was showering and then it just… appeared,” you grunt out in Dean’s deeper voice.
“Oh, that kind of problem? Did you find my porn under the bed?”
“What? No! How do I get rid of it?! I tried thinking of Sam naked and it got worse!”
“What?!” Your own voice is two pitches higher. “Well did you try thinking of someone fucking Baby up?” You take a deep breath and close your eyes, trying to imagine some guy taking a crowbar to Baby’s hood and then the windows, but all you can see is muscle and –
“Nope, didn’t work,” you conclude, looking down at it.
“Okay, so I mean, just because it’s my body, doesn’t mean that it’ll respond to what I like, right? It’s a mental thing, and it’s your mind,” Dean explains.
“Okay, makes sense. So I just think about something that turns me off?”
“Yeah, I guess,” comes Dean’s reply. You hear Sam asking if something’s wrong in the background.
“Don’t you dare tell him!” you hiss out. Dean chuckles, and then you hear him – you – telling Sam it’s fine and he’s stepping outside.
“Listen, just, you know… sort it out, it’s not a big deal,” he finally tells you.
“Dean! No, I can’t just… no!” you protest.
“It’s the quickest way to get rid of it, trust me.” You sigh heavily and pinch the bridge of your – Dean’s – nose.
“Are you seriously telling me to jerk you off right now?”
“It’s kinda your body right now, just do it, it’s not a big deal.”
“Are you… Dean, does that mean that you’d… you know…”
“No, you told me not to, I won’t,” Dean assures you. “Okay, I know a quick way for you to get rid of it,” he adds.
“Okay, so urm… what do I do?” you ask, biting your bottom lip anxiously. You feel awkward just asking, but Dean just laughs easily on the other end.
“Okay, put me on speaker,” he instructs. You do as you’re told and place the phone down on the bed, sitting down next to it. “Okay, want you to wrap your one hand around the base, squeeze kinda hard.”
“Seriously?” you whine.
“Just do it,” Dean orders. You slowly reach down and wrap your hand around it, feeling it twitch a little in your grasp, and now your head feels even fuzzier. You involuntarily let out a whimper, and Dean chuckles – bastard. Moving your hand further down to the base, you start to squeeze like Dean had told you to.
“Okay, now what?” you ask, a little breathily.
“You urm, you wanna… take your other hand, wrap your fingers around the tip, just urm… just under the head.” You can hear your own voice getting breathy on the other end. “That’s the, urm...”
“Everything okay, Dean?” you check. Dean clears his throat.
“Yeah, fine it’s just… feel a little uncomfortable,” he confesses.
“I’m sorry. Listen this is weird, let’s just hang up and I’ll figure it out,” you tell him.
“No, urm… I mean like… between your legs has just got urm…”
“Oh,” you reply, eyes wide. “Are you… is this…”
“The idea of you touching it is kinda a turn on, okay?” Dean huffs.
“Really?” you ask, ludicrously. “What are you, fourteen?”
“It’s been a while, shut up.”
“You know technically it’s just you touching you right now,” you tease.
“Shit this is really uncomfortable, what do I do?” Dean grunts out.
“Ignore it,” you tell him. “We just both ignore it,” you conclude, telling yourself to let go of Dean’s dick. But you're not listening to yourself apparently, just gripping his cock and feeling it throb beneath your touch. Fuck, you’re a hypocrite.
“It feels like I’ve pissed myself down there, dude!”
“Dean, you know how many times I’ve had to ignore it? Deal with it,” you huff.
“Okay, okay, we’ll ignore it,” Dean replies.
“Okay, I’m gonna let go of it and we’ll just pretend this never happened,” you confirm.
“Hey, I’m gonna head into town and chase up some leads, you coming?” Sam’s voice sounds out.
“I urm, need to stay here for a bit,” you hear Dean reply.
“Okay, urm... sure, I’ll call you with news,” Sam replies.
“Why didn’t you go?” you ask Dean once you hear the truck door.
“Are you kidding? I need to change my underwear,” he complains.
“Oh come on, it’s not that bad,” you roll your eyes.
“It’s like a fucking slip and slide down there. Jesus, does this happen every time?”
“I think you’re being dramatic, Dean.”
“Have you let go of my dick yet?” Dean asks next.
“What? Urm, yeah,” you lie, looking down to see you’re still holding it. Fuck.
“You’re such a hypocrite. What because I’m a dude you can touch me but I can’t touch you?”
“You want me to say you can touch me? Fine,” you snap back, your guilty conscience coming into play.
“What, really?” Dean chokes out. You look down at Dean’s hand still around his cock and sigh. He has got a point.
“Yeah, just… be respectful, yeah? Sort out the issue and don’t touch again,” you order.
“Yeah, just gotta get it done. I won’t even enjoy it, promise.”
“Okay, good.” There’s silence, and then you clear your throat, “so I’ll sort out my problem, you sort out yours, we’ll forget all about this, deal?”
“Deal,” Dean confirms. “Okay, bye.”
You hang up and sigh. You’d be a liar if you said that you couldn’t ignore the issue. It’s just an excuse, some bullshit justification for the fact that you’re about to jerk off the guy you’ve been crushing on for so long. And you can’t help but think about whether that’s the case for Dean too. What if he just wants to touch you? What if he likes you? He did just get aroused by the thought of you touching him. He tried to play it off as it being a while, but what if it was specifically you that made it hot for him? You bite down on your bottom lip and remember Dean telling you to use your second hand to grip under the head. Slowly reaching for it, you do as he’d said, feeling it throb beneath your grip. You move your thumb and start to rub in little circles under the base of the head, almost instinctively, and an involuntary moan escapes your lips, and the sound of Dean’s voice all breathy and choked like that only turns you on more. Okay, so Dean likes that.
You slowly loosen your grip at the tip and start to work your hand up and down, figuring out that twisting it a little feels better than just a straight up and down motion. You continue to grip the very base with the other hand – your thumb wrapped over the top, your fingers splayed and wrapping around Dean’s balls slightly, which feels pretty damn good. You continue to jerk, testing different speeds and grip strengths, and figuring out what feels the best, and you make mental notes every time you do something that feels good, just for future reference in case you ever need it. A light sweat is breaking out over your body as you continue to experiment, and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to what you assume is sweet relief, when Dean’s cell ringing breaks your concentration.
You glance down to see your own name on the screen.
“Yeah?” you reply breathily.
“Going well then?” Dean chuckles.
“What do you want, Dean? I think I was close,” you grunt out frustrated.
“Urm, I… it’s not happening,” he replies awkwardly.
“You know… the big… poooof moment.”
“Well, what are you doing?” you ask, now just stroking the length lazily to try and keep the feeling from completely disappearing. You’re not starting this from the beginning.
“Well I’m you know... using two fingers…”
“Wow, Dean, you really are a fourteen year old. Have you ever gotten a girl off?”
“Yeah, of course I have! But it’s different when I’m with a girl as opposed to being one.”
You roll your eyes and smirk gently, realising he’s got a point.
“Have you touched the clit at all?” you ask, feeling a little more over the awkwardness of him touching you, especially because you’ve been thinking about it most of the time you’ve been jerking off. The thought of Dean touching you like that is incredibly arousing.
“Kinda, it felt funny,” he explains.
“Okay, well funny is kinda good. Put me on speaker, I’ll talk you through it.” You hear rustling, and Dean tells you to continue. “So take your fingers out, and just softly rub the clit in small circles,” you explain. You can hear the very soft whimpers, “you wanna rub more to the left,” you add.
“Yeah, that’s the spot. Okay, keep rubbing, and now with your other hand, push one finger inside.” You can hear Dean’s voice bleeding out of you, and the sound of him saying these things is only edging you closer again, so you start to jerk a little harder and faster.
“Jesus, that feels good.”
“Good, keep going, add another finger,” you instruct.
“Okay… fuck.” You chuckle at the sound of your own voice being so breathy and whiny. It’s not as much of a turn off as you’d thought it would be, especially knowing that it’s Dean feeling that good.
“Did you work out the thumb thing yet?” he asks.
“Little circles under the head? Yeah,” you giggle. “Okay, how wet is it?” you ask next, feeling more and more aroused and less and less awkward as the time goes on.
“Pretty wet,” he replies, your voice choked.
“Add a third finger, feels more like cock,” you explain. “Especially one like yours.” You bite your bottom lip, not even slightly embarrassed about what you’ve said, especially when you hear Dean moaning louder. “Keep rubbing that clit, you’ve found the sweet spot, right?”
“Ye-yeah, shit I think so, I can’t imagine it feeling better than this,” he laughs breathlessly.
“It does, when you’re being fucked, properly.” Dean’s cock twitches in your hand.
“You wanna feel what it’s like for me?” he asks. “Under the bed, there’s a fleshlight and lube.”
You waste no time looking under Dean’s bed and finding a box that holds some porn mags. You take them out to reveal condoms, lube, some cockrings and most importantly the fleshlight.
“Got it?” he checks.
“Yeah,” you reply, getting back on the bed, before squeezing some lube and slicking Dean’s whole length with it. You bite Dean’s bottom lip as you grab the fleshlight and start to push it down over his cock. It’s a weird sensation, but it feels incredible. It’s tight, little ridges inside that hug his length in all the right ways.
“Fuck,” you whimper out, the sound of Dean’s voice that strained only makes his cock throb harder.
“Feels good, huh?” he asks, “always imagined you were tighter, though.” Dean’s comment makes you buck your hips up into the toy deeper and you moan loudly.
“You’ve thought about me?”
“Baby I didn’t need a fleshlight before you moved in, gotta stick my dick somewhere when I think about this perfect little body of yours.”
You’re pretty sure he’s about to finish you off with the dirty talking alone. It doesn’t matter to you that it’s your voice, you know that their Dean’s words and that’s enough. Well, two can play that game.
“Shame I didn’t pack my dildo,” you smirk, trying to regain composure, “It’s about the same size as you.”
“I’d rather use your fingers, get them nice and deep,” he responds breathily.
“You don’t wanna know how you’d make me feel sinking your cock inside me?” you ask, unable to keep your own moans at bay at the very thought.
“I already know I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good. Don’t forget sweetheart, I know this little body better than any other man now. I know your sweet spots, I can feel how close I’m getting you already.”
“Fuck, Dean, you gonna make that body of mine cum on my fingers?” you ask, squeezing your eyes shut as Dean’s balls tighten along with the muscles deep in his stomach, and you’re so close yourself. “Because you’re about to cum deep in this toy.”
“Fuck baby, that’s it, squeeze my balls when you’re cumming, trust me,” he tells you. You waste no time reaching down and squeezing gently. Fuck, he’s right. You make yet another mental note, and then you feel a relief wash over you with every throb of his cock inside the tight toy.
“Holy fuck, I think I’m gonna… shit,” you can hear the very telling signs in your own voice that Dean’s close. You know how you sound when you’re about to cum.
“Keep rubbing, don’t stop,” you instruct, and Dean screams out and then there’s heavy panting.
“Fuck, that felt so good,” he finally tells you. You chuckle, pulling the toy off of Dean’s cock and watching as it very slowly deflates on his stomach. “Urm, Y/N?” he asks next.
“Yeah?” you reply, still out of breath and still on an adrenaline high from the dirty talking and climax.
“I think I could go again,” he replies.
You laugh. “Welcome to being a girl.”
Always and Forevers: @foxyjwls007 / @waywardbaby / @tatted-trina6 / @lunarmoon8 / @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone / @warrior-angel / @impalaspixie
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Supernatural Forevers: @moosekateer13 / @akshi8278 / @notyourtypicalrose / @angelofthetrenchcoats / @pyroqueen-k / @collette04 / @impala1967dwinchester / @blueaura / @beth-winchester21 / @laxe-chester67 / @bobbie3939 / @jaydahlynne / @michellemxndes / @allys-creative-bubble / @squirrelnotsam / @eve-loves-apples / @chocolateheart / @cluz1babe / @musicalraven100 / @iceythelostwinchester / @cutiecowgirl
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Binge Culture Tags: @inquisitor-selvala / @supernatural-bellawinchester
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