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corinthianism · 6 months

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corinthianism's fic recs

here are my personal favorite fanfics! idk how often i'll update this, but i hope you like them as much as i do :) *indicates smut

last updated: march 26, 2024

MARVEL

loki laufeyson - from the void, with love — by whirlybirbs (my fav fanfic of all time!!! i think about this fic several times in a day bro) - riptide — by starks-hero - the tailor* (series) — by birdofhermes (ao3) - time after time (series) — by goldencherriess (ao3) - a friend from work — by cozy_the_overlord (ao3)

thor odinson - god of fertility* (request) — by charnelhouse - highway don't care (but i do, i do)* (part one, part two, part three) — by spacelabrathor

peter parker (andrew garfield) - agree to disagree — by delicate-dorothea - nerdy peter (request) — by webslingingslasher - good boy x bad girl trope (request) — by webslingingslasher - hold you here, my loveliest friend* — by p3mybeloved - your friendly neighborhood sensitive spider* — by jin0 - glad you're home — by withahappyrefrain - the mechanics of a soul — by irndad - 3 is the magic number* — by withahappyrefrain - crush — by ptersparkers - as it goes — by forever-rogue - here comes the sun (part one, part two, part three) — by withahappyrefrain - stability, reciprocity, and a romance for the ages (series) — by privateanxieties (ao3 - need an account to read)

steven grant (moon knight) - hold me close — by stormkobra-5 - gift of min* — by astroboots - puzzles* — by stormkobra-5 - first time* — by luvpedropascal - domestic adonis* — by peterman-spideyparker - where it starts — by silversweetpea - fallen from heaven, grown on earth* (series) — by davosmymaster (ao3) - call me poe* — by kittyfandom (ao3) - elemental — by batsingotham (ao3) - the boy with the thorn in his side — by eating_flowers (ao3)

marc spector (moon knight) - not him — by loud-mouth-loser - it's worth it, it's divine* — by the-archxr - i'm getting to know someone — by davosmymaster (ao3)

wade wilson (deadpool) - tea and sympathy (series) — by bucketsoffrogs (ao3)

SHERLOCK (BBC)

sherlock holmes - your hidden strength — by okay-j-hannah - sublime dexterity* (part one, part two) — by daydreamtofiction - literally everything by starks-hero

SUPERNATURAL

sam winchester - playing house (part one, part two) — by uncouth-the-fifth - baby i'll stay (heaven can wait) — by uncouth-the-fifth - move over.* — by ggwritesstuff - where's your head at?* — by beau55515 - birthdays: sam winchester style* — by karleekarma (ao3) - the comforts of home — by zepskies - under the hood* — by shawslut

dean winchester - whether you like it or not — by kbeautimous (ao3) - reading you wrong — by zepskies - cherished — by thatonewriter15 (ao3) - soft touch — by wearywinchester - i love her, that's why* — by kaleldobrev - drivin' me crazy* — by lis-likes-fics

castiel - salt n' lick* — by aperfectgrace (ao3) - a bite of apple pie (series) — by ac_deanc (ao3)

THE SANDMAN

the corinthian - bring me a dream* (series, ongoing) — by placeinthemiddleofnowhere - nihil — by lis-likes-fics

dream/morpheus - sweet dreams (are made of this) — by stranger-nightmare

CRIMINAL MINDS

aaron hotchner - from eden — by heliotropehotch - gold star — by honeypiehotchner - love, an abstract concept — by luveline - honeymoon phase* (series) — by hotchsbitch (ao3)

THE BOYS

soldier boy (he's absolutely horrible but so. so. hot.) - break me down* (series) — by zepskies (go read their other stuff too!) - talk to me — by zepskies

homelander (also absolutely horrible. would sleep with him.) - if i can't have you — by watchstarscollide - milky white* — by after-witch

GAME OF THRONES

jaime lannister - i'm not made by design — by ichorai (this legitimately changed my brain chemistry)

STAR WARS

obi-wan kenobi - like turning on the light* — by full-time-make-believer (deactivated acc) (this also changed the trajectory of my life) - where it wasn't* — by 221bshrlocked - your thoughts are loud — by spidersbane - empty me out* — by 221bshrlocked - house of memories* (series) — by meshlasolus - bad idea, right?* (series) — by mischiefling (ao3) - you make me feel like dancing — by saradika (ao3) - it's a wonderful lie — by firstofficerwiggles (ao3) - temptation's kiss — by karasong (ao3) - you make my dreams* — by wickedscribbles (ao3) - like a living mirage — by karasong (ao3) - broken drought* — by rosalindbeatrice (ao3) - never grow up — by doihavetoloseyoutoo (ao3) - never ending story — by kybercrystal (ao3) - volveré* — by kxnobi (ao3)

din djarin (the mandalorian) - the savior* (part one, part two, part three) — by dindjiarin - significant — by softlyspector - touching din — by archieimagines - uncharted territory* — by pedrito-friskito - creed* — by wheresarizona - home is wherever i'm with you* (part one, part two, part three) — by saradika

DRACULA (BBC)

count dracula - the székely* (series) — by theplumsoldier

LOTR/THE HOBBIT

thranduil oropherion - a boon* (series) — by inksplots (ao3) - beauty and the beast (series) — by tamurilofrivendell (ao3)

DOCTOR SLEEP

dan torrance - of monsters and men* — by helaintoloki & obitwo - domestic life (headcanons) — by thornsinmycrown - smut alphabet* — by daincrediblegg

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 2 months

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The Husband Effect

Summary: The reader is struck with a love curse that leaves her feeling more than a bit attached to Dean...

Pairing: Dean x reader (eventual)

Word Count: 2,200ish

Warnings: language, angst, love curse, fluff

A/N: Y’all don’t even want to know how old this fic is. Pretty sure it was written during S13. Figured it was time for it to see the light of day!

__________

“Y/N. Y/N. Giggling woman,” you heard Dean say, clapping his hands together. “Hey! Focus.”

“She’s cursed Dean,” said Sam with a smile. “It was some harmless witchcraft. It’ll wear off soon I’m sure.”

“Is she currently trying to climb into your lap? No?” said Dean, pointing at where he was continually shoving you back from him. “Y/N, stop it.”

“I wanna sit with you,” you whined, throwing your arms over his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek against his.

“This is weird,” said Dean, trying to scoot away, Sam biting back back a laugh. “A little help, Sammy!”

“So she’s a little extra clingy. We’ll put her to bed, she’ll sleep it off and in the morning she can be completely embarrassed about this whole thing,” said Sam.

“Why would I be embarrassed about my Deanie?” you asked, squeezing him harder, Dean rising to his feet.

“Come on, Y/N. Off to bed with you. Now.”

“Good morning,” said Sam to you with a teasing smile. “Sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” you said, giving Dean a big hug when he came in the kitchen. “Good morning!”

“Oh no,” said both boys, grimacing as you smushed yourself into Dean’s chest.

“Get the jaws of life for this one,” said Dean, trying to squirm away while you clung tighter. “Y/N, please let go of me so I can eat breakfast.”

“I’m sorry,” you said releasing him, moving your hand down his arm to hold his hand. “That was silly. Your arms are huge by the way. All muscle and strong. They’re so...mmm.”

“Uh huh,” said Dean, giving Sam a death glare. “Sam, your harmless little curse don’t seem so harmless right now.”

“She should have slept it off,” said Sam, taking a seat at the table, Dean pulling you over into one, resigning himself to the fact he wasn’t getting the hand you were holding back anytime soon. “It must be a different curse.”

“No shit. Figure it out for me, would ya? It’s weird having Y/N act all...cuddly,” said Dean.

“Well, she is a girl, Dean,” said Sam.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Dean, your head resting on his shoulder.

“It means she likes hugs and you know, human affection...like a normal person,” said Sam. “You treat her like a guy sometimes.”

“Again, what does that mean?” asked Dean.

“It means when you tell her to buck up and kill the damn spider herself, she comes and asks me to do it. Or when you don’t help her with heavy stuff. She’s tough, don’t get me wrong, but I get the feeling she doesn’t think you care about her nearly half as much as she does you,” said Sam. “...Maybe that’s why she’s only sticking to you. It’s got something to do with that.”

“Y/N,” said Dean, your head lifting up with a smile. “You know I care about you, right?”

“Of course you silly boy,” you said with a smile, bopping him on the nose. “I love you different than Sammy is all.”

“See? She knows,” said Dean, giving you a smile that made your heart flutter.

“You’re so pretty,” you said, Sam rolling his eyes.

“Hey, Y/N. Why don’t you eat breakfast and then Dean can spend the whole day with you while I figure out how to fix you, huh?” asked Sam.

“The whole day with Dean? That sounds amazing,” you said, leaning up and giving Dean a kiss on the cheek.

“Please hurry Sam.”

One Week Later

“I want Dean,” you grumbled as Sam brought your dinner by your room. “Please? I need him.”

“Dean’s researching right now, Y/N,” said Sam, locking up the door behind him, spotting your barely eaten lunch. “You need to eat, Y/N or Dean won’t be happy.”

“Why do I have to stay in my room? I’m not doing anything wrong,” you said, Sam sighing as he took a seat.

“You’re making it hard to research out there, Y/N. You...you’re kind of all over Dean,” said Sam. “He’s not used to attention like that and it’s making him uncomfortable.”

“But you love him and you get to be near him,” you said, scrunching up your face. “Tell him I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever he wants. I just want to see him. Please.”

“Sweetie, it’s the curse that’s making you all nuts for Dean, you have-”

“I always liked him and now that I came out and said it he’s scared of me. Tell him I take it back. I’ll really try to be better,” you said.

“If you eat your dinner, I’ll talk to Dean about coming to see you, alright?” asked Sam, watching as you grabbed your fork. “Good girl.”

“Hi,” you said when you saw your door open, a pair of green eyes peeking in. Everything in you wanted to hop off the bed and run over to give him a hug but you said you’d try to keep it under control.

“Sam said you wanted to see me,” said Dean, hanging by the doorway, watching you start to fidget. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine. Are you okay? Can I do anything for you?” you asked, leaning forward and clenching your hands into fists.

“Just give me a hug before you have a heart attack,” said Dean with a sigh, your body responding before your brain, up and over to wrap him up in your arms. “Better?”

“No,” you said. “You don’t like it.”

“I’d rather have a hug because it’s real, not forced,” said Dean, moving your arms away.

“It is real,” you said, cocking your head up at him. “I want to hug you.”

“No, the curse is making you think you want to hug me,” said Dean with a smile. “There’s a slight difference there, sweetheart.”

“But I love you. Everything I’ve said or done, I always want to do,” you said. “I just...don’t have a filter to say ‘don’t do that anymore.’”

“It’s a curse and we’ll solve it, alright?” said Dean. “I don’t want you to get upset about it. We’ll figure it out and get everything back to normal around here.”

“Dean,” you said, moving forward again, Dean already with a hand on the door.

“I promise, Y/N.”

“I don’t know why it didn’t work but you shouting at me doesn’t fix it!” yelled Sam, both boys in the middle of screaming at one another as you sat in the library, doing your best to stay in your seat.

“It’s been two weeks, Sam. Look at her. She’s barely keeping it together,” said Dean, waving over in your direction.

“If I was under a love curse and the other person resented me, I might start to get upset too, Dean,” said Sam. You got to your feet, forcing them to move away and for your bedroom, your movements slowing as you hit the edge of the library. “See?”

“I’m just going back to my room, Sam,” you said over your shoulder, frozen in place with the need to stay near Dean.

“It’s got to be that spell. Figure out what you screwed up,” said Dean, his hand on your arm melting away your bubbling anxiety, replacing it with something soft and warm. Dean didn’t immediately leave when he got you back in your room, instead laying down on your bed, turning on your TV and throwing an arm behind his head.

“What are you doing?” you asked, sitting down next to him, curling into his side with a smile.

“I miss you,” he said, moving his arm around your shoulders, a rush of relief flooding you. “...I’ll take care of you. I know it hurts and yeah I’m not used to all this lovey dovey crap but I’m going to help you through it. If letting you crawl all over me makes you feel better, we’ll do that.”

“Hey, bozos,” said Sam, standing at the end of your bed, stirring you awake. “I didn’t mess it up. It’s on a time delay.”

“Well,” said Dean with a yawn. “How long until it works?”

“Judging by the look on Y/N’s face, it already did,” said Sam. You were glancing at your lap, sitting as far away from Dean as possible. “Are you...”

“I want to be alone, please,” you said, Sam nodding his head and leaving. “You too Dean.”

“It’s okay, it was just a curse,” he said, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I told you two weeks ago, Dean,” you said, turning your head over your shoulder. “I don’t love you and Sam the same way. It was a love curse, Dean. All I was trying to do this whole damn time was to make you feel loved.“

“I do feel loved,” said Dean.

“You don’t get it. This isn’t something I can explain to you, Dean. Either you get it or you don’t and you obviously don’t so please give me some space today,” you said.

“I get it,” said Dean, grabbing your wrist and spinning you to face him. “It’s been very clear to me since this whole thing started. I don’t want you to want me though.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me. It’s my life,” you said, trying to shake him off. “Dean...”

“It’s different when’s it’s staring you right in the face and you can’t run away, right? To know that deep down that what someone is saying is true?” he asked.

“If you got hit with that curse, what are the odds that everything you’re spewing out is bull and you do want me but are too scared to say it,” you said. Dean was silent, dropping your hands as you nodded your head. “So what do you want to do about this?”

“If you want to...try, I guess I’m cool with that,” said Dean, shrugging like you were discussing dinner.

“Cool with it?” you asked.

“I ain’t turning into a Hallmark card anytime soon,” said Dean, holding up his hands. “But...your hugs aren’t so bad.”

“Ah, yes. Your definitely wooing me, Dean,” you said, shaking your head.

“Y/N, I’m trying,” said Dean.

“I know. We’ll...take it one day at a time.”

One Year Later

“Hey, you guys remember that freaky curse that made Y/N stick to you like glue?” asked Sam at lunch one day.

“Yeah,” said Dean. “What about it?”

“Well...I translated another spell that references it,” said Sam. “It was used back in the day to help men find wives.”

“That seems like a douche move,” you said, leaning back against the wall, tossing your legs in Dean’s lap.

“No, no. Not like that. It was meant for when a guy loved somebody but was too shy or insecure to say something. If the person didn’t have a reaction, they didn’t feel the same way. If they did, then it sort of proved there was something there,” said Sam.

“It took you a year to find this out?” you asked, Sam shrugging. “Why do I feel like you’re lying Samuel...”

“You know, we never did find out who put such a strangely harmless curse on Y/N either,” said Dean, crossing his arms. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you Sammy?”

“Not a clue,” he said with a smile, glancing back at forth. “Weird, right?”

“I’ll get my fiance to kick your ass you ever pull something like that again,” said Dean.

“I’m really good at kicking ass,” you said, Sam shaking his head.

“I got no idea what you guys are talking about,” said Sam, standing up with a stretch. “I think I’m going to go for a second run while I think about who could have ever done this to you two.”

“Want to destroy him later?” asked Dean, wearing a smirk once he was out of earshot.

“Of course. Not too badly though,” you said.

“Just a touch of destruction for our devious Sammy coming right up,” said Dean with a chuckle. “While we’re at it, it’s been a year since our first date tonight.”

“You got something special planned?” you asked.

“Obviously,” he said. “Mess with Sammy first though?”

“You read my mind.”

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kaleldobrev · 10 months

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Old Man

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Summary: Dean never had a problem with the age gap between you two; not until now any way Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (13x), Sexual Innuendos, Dean talking bad about himself, Frat guys giving Y/N the disrespect she doesn’t deserve Authors Note: Me and Jensen have a 17-year age gap – what’s your age gap? | This came out A LOT longer than I expected | I don’t know how to write frat guys xD | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

You and Dean pulled up in front of a gas station; needing to stop for gas and maybe a few snacks before the two of you continued your almost four-hour long journey back to the Bunker. You and Dean had just spent the weekend in Lawrence, due to the very rare occurrence that there were no cases. You had told Dean that even though you’d been living at the Bunker with him and Sam for the past couple of years, you had never once been to Lawrence even though you could have easily made a day trip out of it. With that being said, Dean was more than happy to take you and show you around, reminiscing about some of the things that he remembered doing all those years ago back when he was four; back before everything. But that’s not all the trip was, you had done some other things too; like visiting the Biodiversity Institute and Natural History Museum – which was considered to be one of the best museums in the entire state of Kansas, along with Grinter Farms – who prided themselves on their sunflower photo-ops. You enjoyed both places immensely, and were happy that Dean did too, even if he wasn’t initially keen on going to either place at first.

“I’m gonna grab us some snacks while you do the pump.” You said, grabbing your wallet from the glove compartment. Once you closed it and before you exited the car, you looked over at Dean, who was currently giving you the most serious look on his face. “What?”

“You already know what I’m going to say Sweetheart.” His tone sounding just as serious as his facial expression had looked.

“Pie.” You said in unison.

“Cherry or apple?” You asked, the two of you getting out of the car at the same time.

“Like you have to ask.” Dean stated, opening up the fuel cap.

“Just making sure Dean. I mean, I don’t want to come out with apple when you really wanted cherry.” Your comment earned a slight chuckle from him.

“I’ll be getting some cherry pie later, don’t you worry.” He winked.

“I don’t think that applies to me anymore.” You smirked.

“We can always pretend.” He started fueling Baby just then.

“Now that’s a roleplay idea I can get behind.” You winked at him before making your way into the store.

As soon as you walked into the store to grab some snacks for the two of you – one of which needed to be pie; a car pulled up the next pump over with a group of about four men who all appeared to be from the University of Kansas solely based on their Jayhawks apparel. “I don’t know dude. I’m pretty sure that chick was into me.” One of the men said, causing the one that he was talking to, to roll his eyes.

“No dude. She was into me. She was giving me the old fuck me eyes. Did you not see that? Or were you too busy looking at her ass?” He laughed. It was the other guy’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Can you blame me? You could bounce a quarter off that thing.” The young man replied.

“Hell yeah you could!” The other one agreed, giving each other a high five.

There was a part of Dean that found their conversation funny because he had remembered when he was like that; but it hadn’t been for some time. Yes, there were times when he was still like that, but it was solely reserved for one woman: and that woman was you.

“Check out that piece of ass in the store there.” Another one of the men who hadn’t talked before was talking now. His comment caused Dean to turn in their direction and then back into the store. There was no other person that they could be talking about but you, as you were the only person in there besides the clerk behind the counter; and Dean was pretty sure they weren’t talking about the balding clerk.

“Bet she’s a good fuck.” One of the men said. Oh you have no idea. Dean thought to himself.

“I’ll bet you thirty bucks that I can convince her to have sex with me.” The first guy said, the one that had noticed you in the first place.

“Dude, there’s no fucking way she’d have sex with you.” The next guy said. “Look at her! She’s way out of your league. Plus, even if you could pull her, where are the two of you gonna do it uh? The dirty gas station bathroom?”

“Sure why not? I bet she wouldn’t mind it at all.” He winked. His comment caused Dean to chuckle a little to himself, knowing how wrong that guy was. You and Dean have had sex in a variety of different places, but never a gas station bathroom. “Dean, as much as I love you, I’m not fucking in a gas station bathroom. That’s honestly my only limitation.” You once told him. “So, Waffle House bathroom is okay then?” He joked back, causing you to give him a playful smack on the arm from his remark.

“Dude, she’s not gonna give you the time of day. She needs a real man. And that ain’t you.” The man started walking around to the other side of the pump and started making his way toward the store. You ain’t a real man dude. Dean thought to himself. None of them were what he would call a man, only boys pretending to be.

“Watch and learn boys!” The guy said using his most charismatic voice. Dean wasn’t worried at all; he knew that you would never give the guy the time of day. You two had been together for the last couple of years, and the group of quote on quote men weren’t remotely your type in the slightest. Dean had seen pictures of your previous exes or have worked cases with them before. All your previous exes besides about one were all hunters; not varsity jock looking guys, and that’s what those guys were.

“Hey kid, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean finally chimed in. At first, he wasn’t even going to say anything. He had almost wanted to see the boy come back out the store with the look of utter embarrassment on his face when you had rejected him; which he knew was going to happen. But the jealous side of him won in that moment. He knew that you were more than capable of handling yourself – you were one of the best hunters he’d ever seen or worked with. He’d seen you get hit on plenty of times either when you two went to the bar together or while working a case; but those men never seemed like threats to him. But this time, this time felt different for him.

“I’m sorry?” The guy questioned.

“I said, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean said, his voice a bit more stern than usual.

“What’s it to you?” The guy asked, giving a slight snort.

“She’s going to reject you buddy. Trust me.” Dean finished filling the car up and put the pump back in its place. “Just trying to save you the embarrassment in front of your buddies here.”

“Oh yeah? Why do you say that?” The guy turned to look at you. You were currently standing at the counter laughing, probably at something the clerk had just said with two apple pie containers in your hands. Although Dean couldn’t hear your laugh, the sound of it echoed in his brain. God, he loved the sound of your laugh.

“That piece of ass” Dean began to say, hating using the words that they had used to describe you, “is my girlfriend.” Dean smirked. He had hoped that his usual tactic would work like it had done in the past. In the past, whenever Dean was with a woman; regardless if she was his girlfriend or not, the minute he said the word girlfriend to another guy that was hitting on his girlfriend, date, etc. the guy would usually back off, not wanting to get into any trouble. But his usual tactic didn’t work, it had simply just made the guy laugh.

“Your girlfriend?” The man laughed again. “Yeah, okay Old Man.”

“Old, Old Man?” Dean was caught off guard. No one had ever really called him an old man before; the only one who ever did it was Claire, but she was the exception, because she was basically family to him.

“Yeah. What are you? Like 50?” The guy behind him chimed in.

Dean turned around. “50? You think I’m 50? I’m 42 dude.” Yet more laughter from the men.

“Close enough.” The man that was close to the store said. At that moment Dean had saw you wave goodbye to the clerk and started to head out toward the door. The man looked at you, and then eyed his buddies, making his way toward Dean. “Listen, tell her that if she wants someone that can keep it up without the use of meds and doesn’t go to bed before 6, to give me a call.” The guy said, giving Dean’s shoulder a slight pat before going into the car with his other three buddies.

Dean started to take out his gun just as the guy in the driver’s seat started the engine. Before he could fully take out his gun you were standing next to him, two boxes of pie in your hands and a slight look of worry on your face. “Can I shoot them?” He asked you.

“Not in public.” You responded, handing him one of the boxes. “What did they say to you?” You were curious, and you had every right to be. Even though you were accustomed to Dean pulling out his gun, you were confused as to why he had wanted to pull it out in that moment, especially since you were pretty sure that the men in the car weren’t any kind of monsters.

“Nothing.” Dean was quick to respond, but his response sounded angry, almost hurt.

“It didn’t look like nothing. Especially since you asked if you could shoot them.” Dean handed you back the box of pie that you had just given him, causing you to give him an even more worried look.

“Can we just leave?” His voice was panicked now, maybe with a small hint of embarrassment.

“Yeah.” Was all you said as the two of you got into Baby.

There was a strong silence between the two of you, and it wasn’t the comfortable kind like you were used to. That was one of the things that you had loved most about Dean; that you and him didn’t constantly need to fill the silence with talking. It was something that you enjoyed because your past boyfriends always needed to have some kind of conversation going because they hated the silence. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Always.” You turned your attention to Dean.

“Am I…Am I old?” He asked. His eyes flicked in your direction and then back onto the road.

“Old?” You asked, not sure if you had heard him right. Him asking if he was old was something that had caught you off guard.

“Yeah. Am I old?” He repeated again.

“Did those guys back there say you were old Dean?” This conversation topic was something that Dean would have never brought up, not unless someone had specifically said something to him. The last time he had this conversation with you was because Claire had jokingly called him an Old Man.

“You didn’t answer the question.” Dean stated. You were positive that’s what it was.

“No. You’re not old Dean. I don’t even know why you would think that.” You knew why he would think that; you were pretty sure that the men back at the gas station had said something to him about it. But you didn’t know why they would have said something to him.

“Those guys back at the gas station called me…Old Man.” His voice sounded slightly defeated, like he was embarrassed even though he had no reason to be. “I caught those assholes looking at you, making comments.” He turned to face you for a slight moment before looking back at the road, his knuckles started to turn white as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “They were trying to make a bet about who would be able to pick you up. When I confronted them about it, telling them that you were my girlfriend, that’s when they laughed and called me an old man.”

“Dean –” You began to say, but he cut you off before you could finish.

“Sweetheart, I know you could have handled that yourself. You have a black belt in three different martial arts and you don’t take any kind of shit from anyone. Hell, a part of me had wanted to see you embarrass the guy because I know for a fact that he isn’t your type but…he was your age.” He was your age.

“Well, you’re not old. It’s not like you’re 90 Dean. You’re 42. That’s still young.” You stated, putting your hand on his thigh, a small gesture that you knew he loved. You had hoped that your comment would make him feel slightly better.

“I’m not young Sweetheart, you are. I got like 15 years on you.” His response made your face drop.

“That’s never been a problem for you before. I mean, it’s not like I’m 17 Dean, I’m three years shy of 30.” When you first met Dean, it was roughly five years ago when you were 22 and he was 37. Initially when you had first met him, you had figured that the two of you would be nothing more than just friends due to the semi-massive age difference that there was between the two of you, despite the fact that you did find him attractive. For the first couple of years that you knew him, you didn’t try to pursue anything; and neither did he, although the two of you had similar feelings. Dean had figured that you wouldn’t want to be with someone his age, and you thought that he didn’t want to be with someone your age. It wasn’t until Cas said something and both of you almost dying on a hunt that caused you two to realize that maybe you should give it a shot – and you’ve been together ever since.

“Exactly. You’re three years shy of 30. I’m far, far past that. You know what I was doing at 30? Trying to stop the Apocalypse. When I was 30, you were still in high school. You weren’t even on my radar back then.”

“Would have been pretty good jailbait though.” You joked.

“Not funny.” He responded.

“I’m not laughing.” You said back.

“Can I ask you another question?” His knuckles were still white against the steering wheel.

“Of course.” What else could you possibly say?

“Why me? Why out of all the guys you could possibly be with, that are your own age, that you actively choose to be with me? I mean, I know I drink too much, I have way, way too many screws loose, I’ve been to Hell, Purgatory, been possessed more times than I can count, I have major trust issues, PTSD.” He looked over at you again. “The list goes on and on. I’m all kinds of fucked up Sweetheart.” Your heart sank at Dean’s comments. You hated more than anything when he talked bad about himself, because there was no reason for him to do that.

“Pull over.” Was all you said.

Dean looked at you with a confused expression. “What?”

“Did I stutter? I said pull over.” Your voice was stern now, but it made Dean pull over on the side of the road.

“Dean, the fact that you even have to ask me why I’m with you shows me that you don’t actually realize or understand the reasons why I love you. You’re right, I could be with someone my own age. But you know what? I don’t want to. I’ve dated people my age, and they honestly suck. Hunters or not, men my age or even a year or two older have no fucking clue what they want in life. The only thing they’re positive about is wanting to fuck anything that has a pulse and gaslight women.” You let out a frustrated sigh. “My parents used to tell me, ‘not all men,’ and I knew that. You may have a slight case of alcoholism –”

“A slight case?” Dean interrupted, raising an eyebrow. He thought you saying that he only had a slight case of alcoholism was a tad too generous.

You pointed a finger at him. “Don’t interrupt me.” Dean put up his hands in defeat. “As I was saying. You may have a slight case of alcoholism, are insanely prone to nightmares, get angry more often than you probably should, enjoy murder every now and then, have been to Hell and Purgatory and back, but wanna know something? I’ll take all of that, gladly! Because you are honestly the best man I could ever ask for. Yes, you have some flaws, but who doesn’t? I mean look at me for example.” You went into your jacket and pulled out your hunting knife. “I’m someone who brings a hunting knife wherever they go like it’s a security blanket. No normal person does that Dean.”

“As you should. You need to be prepared at a moments notice.” He agreed.

“Exactly! No sane person would agree with me.” You said, putting back your hunting knife.

“Y/N, are you saying that part of the reason you’re with me is because I’m not sane?” He raised an eyebrow. He’s been called crazy or insane more times than he could count, so this wasn’t particularly newsworthy for him.

“I was thinking more…cautious.” You shrugged. “I mean…No, cautious isn’t the right word. You are cautious but…” You were really trying to come up with the right word to tell Dean, and you could feel it on the tip of your tongue. “What I’m trying to say is, any other guy would be freaked the fuck out if they saw me walking around with a hunting knife in my jacket. You? You couldn’t give two fucks. And you wanna know something else? I’ve worked with a lot of hunters over the years before I met up with you and Sam, who just looked at me and laughed because of my age, thinking that I don’t know the difference between rock salt and holy water.” You took one of his hands in yours intertwining your fingers. “You, not including Sam of course, accepted me as someone that actually knows a thing or two about hunting despite my age. You treated me like your equal. Hunter or not.”

You treated me like your equal. Your words rang in Dean’s mind. “Of course I treat you like my equal Sweetheart. What man wouldn’t? ‘Sides those other hunters and the Jayhawks spirit squad back there.” He chuckled, and you let out a small laugh too.

“Exactly. You’re a feminist icon.” You smiled.

“A feminist icon uh? Who knew?” Dean finally smiled.

“In all seriousness, I could give a rat’s ass about your age. You treat me right and my parents love you. What else could I possibly ask for?” You gave his hand a slight squeeze as you shot him another smile, but a softer one this time.

“Still amazed that your parents love me.” He said, starting to lean in closer to you.

“You treat their daughter right. That’s all they care about.” You confessed. When you had first told your parents about Dean, one of the first things they asked is if he was treating you right, they never asked about his age. And when they had met him, they still never commented on that fact, even when he wasn’t in the room.

He caressed your face. “I really am lucky to have you.” He smiled and leaned in fully to kiss you. “I love you so much.”

You smiled. “I love you more.”

He let out a slight chuckle. “Show off.”

“Always.” You responded, leaning in to kiss him again.

#dean Winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #spn #supernatural #reader insert #female reader

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waynes-multiverse · 17 days

Note

Ok hear me out. I got this idea after the episode of Dean getting his "virginity" back and hooking up with the porn star when he's digging through her dresser and finds the DVD of her ANYWAY

Best friend Dean who's been pining after you for sooo long but doesn't want to fuck it up and lose you. You're hanging out when you ask him to go grab something from your room and he's digging through your drawers looking and accidentally comes across some lingerie and now it's days later and he's so hot and bothered cuz he can't think of anything else (the boy has a serious panty kink lets be honest) and you catch him in your room going through your drawers again and OH

A/N: As I warned y'all, this is a longer DD because, well, the prompt was long, so it's not really my fault. All that backstory took on a life of its own, but I think no one will be mad about it 😅 Again, I had tons of fun with this one! You'll see 🤣

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18/NSWF, a ridiculous heat wave, friends to lovers (Wayne's Version), crack, a panty kink, some sneaky fluff, and some hot lovin' aka smut (oral f & face sitting)

Word Count: 4.5k (whoops)

Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles

Cruel Summer

“You open the beaches on the 4th of July, it’s like ringing the dinner bell for Christ’s sake…”

As Jaws flickered across the screen in the Dean Cave, the green-eyed hunter adjusted himself in his seat. Usually, he had perfect control over himself and his feelings for you.

But on some days – like today – when you sat right next to him on the couch in nothing but a loose t-shirt and some short sweatpants, fanning yourself with an old magazine of Busty Asian Beauties as beads of salty sweat collected on your forehead and trickled down your neck, you made it hard for him.

“God, I’m so hot,” you sighed exhaustively and sunk further into the couch cushions, lifting your shirt from your sticky skin to let some cool air to your boobs as a heat wave ravaged through Kansas.

Painfully hard.

“Dean?” You pouted with your best puppy dog look at your best friend.

“Huh?” Dean was in trance, watching you more than the movie, always on the edge of getting caught one of these days.

“We’re out of Sour Patch Kids. I have more in my nightstand. Can you get them for me please?” you asked sweetly. “I don’t wanna move. I might actually die from heat exhaustion.”

Dean sighed and wordlessly rose from his seat. He knew you always kept an array of salty and sweet midnight snacks in your room in case you got hungry and didn’t want to wander into the kitchen in the middle of the night.

Moreover, he was grateful for the break. God knows he couldn’t stand to be around you any longer, or he would’ve been too tempted to rip your clothes off and really make you sweat.

I’ll show her a damn heat exhaustion, he thought with a scoff.

Hastily grabbing the desired snack, his green eyes then caught something red and lacy sticking out from the first drawer of your dresser. The hunter knew the decent and honest thing would’ve been to just keep moving and leave your godforsaken room.

Turn around, as Bonnie Tyler sang. But for some reason, his bright eyes couldn’t resist, his curiosity overtaking him.

Dean opened the drawer with the intention to push the naughty little clothing item back into its place and out of sight. Get rid of the temptation, so to speak. It sounded like the perfect loophole. He got to touch it and look at it, but for a very heroic and noble reason – not because he was a creepy perv, violating his best friend’s privacy.

On some level, Dean knew he’d never stand a chance with you. He wasn’t good enough. He had so much baggage all his suitcases wouldn’t even fit into the bunker.

A damn touch of a pair of panties you weren’t even wearing was all he would ever get from you.

But then his fingers touched the soft and see-through material, his pads tracing every delicate scarlet thread with precision and care. It was game over for him then and there, cursing himself internally for not resisting harder as his cock twitched joyfully in his jeans.

Dean had laid his eyes on you the second you strolled with swinging hips into that diner in Wichita for your very first case together, a werewolf hunt six years ago. And he had managed to get by without an incident for years since then, even when you moved into the bunker, being rather proud of that achievement. He never wanted to lose you as a friend and didn’t dare to cross a line. Ever.

Recently, though, it became more difficult to keep his distance and not let his thoughts wander. His feelings were magma that slowly had filled a volcano over the years. Each time you did something sexy or sweet or goofy or smart, another drop was added. And now, that damn fire mountain was overdue for an eruption – no thanks to that stupid heat wave.

“Thanks,” you said absentmindedly as the hunter handed you the candy but didn’t settle back down. Instead, he stood behind the sofa and leaned his hands on the backrest.

What you didn’t know, though, was that Dean was sporting quite the boner and wouldn’t dare to come into your line of view. He was surprised he could even walk up straight and not like a caveman early in the evolution.

A hunter gathering panties.

“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he told you with a somber clear of his throat. As the fan carried a breeze of your perfume to his nose, his grip tightened on the couch.

You turned in your seat and looked over your shoulder at him, raising a surprised brow. “Already? But the movie’s not over.”

“Yeah, I’m beat,” he excused and tried his best not to look strained. He forced a tight smile to his lips while his little dude celebrated Spring Break in his jeans. “‘Sides, we’ve seen Jaws like a million times now, Y/N.”

It was a cherished summer tradition between the two of you, watching it every 4th of July.

“I guess so.” You shrugged disappointedly, watching your best friend retreat to his room. Truth was, you loved spending time with Dean and held those little traditions close to your heart.

The Winchesters were your family, the only one you ever had. And while some families wore matching pajamas on Christmas morning, you watched the first two Die Hard movies. You would watch Dean’s favorite horror movies on Halloween. Sixteen Candles and High Fidelity on your birthday, Tombstone and The Great Escape on Dean’s, and some lame-ass foreign language documentaries that you both snored through on Sam’s.

Valentine’s Day was a dreaded non-holiday for all three of you, but for the past four years, someone would leave a box of chocolate in front of your door. The salted caramel ones would always be missing, and it always came with the same Forrest Gump quote:

I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.

You knew the anonymous someone was Dean, and you knew he meant it as a joke. Still, you clung to those little traditions. They might seem silly and stupid to some, but to you, they were your lifeline in a world full of darkness.

So, you felt rather saddened Dean didn’t seem to honor them anymore. It wasn’t just Jaws, either. He’d been withdrawing from you for a while, and you didn’t understand why.

Unbeknownst to you, the green-eyed hunter had kept a lacy souvenir from your room.

Now, Dean had managed to avoid you for four days. Every night since his stealthy excursion, he would lie in his bed with your stolen panties in one hand and his throbbing length in the other, feeling goddamn pathetic for sinking so low.

It was probably so low that even his memory foam mattress would remember it.

With closed eyes, he then imagined how the perky globes of your ass would look like covered in crimson lace. How you would stretch out on his bed on all fours, with your ass high in the air and wiggling in front of him. How his fingers would push the wicked material aside to push into you, taking you deep and hard while you moaned his name.

As he ruined tissue after tissue, the guilt would wash over him as soon as he was done. Call it a post-nut epiphany.

Dean knew it was wrong to think those things. He knew he only made it harder for himself to ever look you into the eyes again. Hell, he barely could do it now, even though a part of him audaciously wondered what other treasures were hiding in that drawer of yours. And more pressingly, what ultimate wealth he would find beneath your clothes. If your lingerie was gold, he’d be a creepy-ass dragon sitting on it.

So, Dean tried to avoid you as best as possible. Mostly because, well…

“God, fuck me,” you groaned exhaustively and opened the refrigerator door, leaning against it as the refreshing cold hit you from behind. On top of that, you held a big bag of frozen peas to your sweaty chest. You already wore the bare minimum – some short denims and a white tank top, your hair up in a messy bun.

“I swear underboob sweat is the worst. Just be glad you don’t have tits,” you complained. “Guys, seriously, can we invest in an AC? This heat wave is killing me! This bunker is like one giant oven…”

You watched as Dean squirmed in his seat as he ate his cereal, looking as uncomfortable as you. Surely, the boys were suffering just as badly during those sweltering temperatures, already forgoing the usual flannels and opting for plain t-shirts instead. How they were still wearing jeans was beyond you. When you first moved in, you protested against Dean’s suggestion of Naked Tuesdays, but these days, you were actually giving it a second thought.

“Well, I’m gonna drive to Kansas City today and see if I can get us an AC. Apparently, they’re all sold out, but I figured maybe with a bit of flirting and some cleavage, I can still get us one,” you explained your plan with a bright smirk and wiggled your eyebrows. “What d’you guys think, huh?”

Dean then abruptly banged his fist on the table, spilling some milk from his bowl on the surface. “For God’s sake, Y/N!”

You frowned in confusion at his unexpected outburst. “What’s up with you? Are you having a heat stroke?”

“Flirting, really?!” the hunter barked, his brow shaped into a deeply furious v.

“What’s wrong with that? Double standard much? You do it all the time to get shit,” you countered and watched his jaw clench in anger.

“I do-... not,” he remarked snappily with a fierce finger drilling into the table, clearly lacking a good argument. Sam cleared his throat in agreement with you, but that only earned him a glare. “And Jesus fucking Christ, would it hurt you to put on some goddamn clothes? You’re not even wearing a bra!”

“Did you not hear my tits rant just now? Of course I’m not! ‘Sides, those boobs are gonna get you an AC, so be a little more grateful to them,” you retorted, annoyed with his attitude. You’d think of all the people in this world, Dean Winchester would understand. (And maybe even appreciate it.) “And how can you even tell, huh?”

“‘Cause science, Y/N! You’re literally cooling your tits! What did you think was gonna happen, huh? Nipples!” he vented outrageously. “This ain’t a strip club!”

“It’s 102 degrees, Dean!” you argued, throwing your arms up. “Look, if I could, I’d even go naked, alright? It’s fucking hot!”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Dean shook his head and stormed out of the kitchen without any further comment.

Confused, you blinked at the younger Winchester. “What’s up with him?”

But Sam only shrugged, shaking his head. “Uhm, I don’t know,” he replied, although he could take an educated guess, suspecting his brother’s feelings for you as the culprit.

“Well, alright, I’m going to Kansas City,” you decided without wasting another thought on the older Winchester’s strange behavior. “Text me if you guys need something. I can pick it up on my way home.”

Dean knew he was in deep trouble as his bow legs bolted down the bunker’s hallways. He tried so hard to keep it together, but when he saw you, half-naked and panting in front of the fridge, he quite literally lost his coolness in this goddamn heat wave.

The green-eyed hunter understood a thing or two about torture, but this was the worst of all. He’d rather have a demon repeatedly peel off his skin in hellfire than endure a day more of this fucking madness.

If the temperatures didn’t drop soon, it would be a cruel summer ahead of him.

As Dean heard the door to the garage close, he knew you’d left for your trip and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. At least he’d get a few hours of peace.

With the best intentions, he strolled to his bedroom, but as he passed your room on his way, he found the door ajar. Whatever good motives he had up until this point, went quickly out the window right then.

His hand twitched at the thought of more riches, worse than any trigger finger and competing with a California earthquake, and well, so did the dick in his jeans. It was an addiction at this point, an obsession he couldn’t resist nor get rid off. The fact that it was forbidden and wrong only made it even more appealing. The apple in the garden of Eden.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t an anonymous support group for this kind of sickness.

As unbearable shame and guilt collected in his stomach like rainwater in the gutter, his eager hands rummaged through your dresser drawer. There was purple lace and black satin, navy G-strings and white Brazilians. It was never ending, and the hunter couldn’t stop as he picked up each item and let his fantasies roam wild.

God, the things he wanted to do to you were as colorful as your rainbow full of underwear.

“Dean?!”

The green-eyed hunter froze in his place, a white lace panty still bunched up in his large palm. The hair in the back of his neck stood up in shock, a part of him refusing to turn around at the sound of your voice. He was caught red-handed, and he knew it.

“What are you doing in my room?” you prompted, suspiciously cocking an eyebrow. It looked fairly obvious what your best friend was up to, but you didn’t want to accuse him right away, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Frankly, it was quite unbelievable.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Dean replied and swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he held up his hands like a criminal during an arrest, the evidence still in his grasp.

“Well, it looks like you’re snooping through my lingerie,” you pointed out bluntly.

Dean nodded, guilt-ridden and reluctant. “I can explain.”

“Good,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m waiting…”

“Right, uhm…”

“Oh, before you scramble for an answer, you should know, though, that I’m aware a pair of red lace panties is missing, and I know the washer didn’t eat them,” you said and raised an expectant brow.

You had a feeling your pervy best friend was behind the mystery of the missing item. Now you knew for sure.

“Man, I always knew you were a kinky son of a bitch, but this is a new level, Dean,” you scolded.

Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor in shame, scratching the nape of his neck. “Look, uhm, there’s no good excuse. I know I fucked up here. I’ll sleep in a motel tonight until I find my own place. You can stay here with Sam, alright? I’ll move out and won’t bother you anymore.”

As he tried to brush past you, you blocked his exit and grabbed his arm. “So, you’re gonna leave? Just like that?”

“What other choice do I have? I don’t wanna make you more uncomfortable,” he stated without glancing at you once. He couldn’t bring himself to look into your eyes and see the disappointment and disgust there. “I know what I did was wrong.”

“Oh, so wrong,” you agreed. “I just figured you wouldn’t run away like a coward and take your punishment like a man, you know? Aren’t you at all curious what I’m wearing right now?”

That was when Dean’s juniper eyes slowly wandered to you and caught your gaze for the first time. You smirked as his breathing became heavy and his look darkened and filled with lust. It seemed like he wanted to rip your clothes off with his goddamn bare teeth like a wild animal.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or if I’m dreaming,” he admitted, his deep voice part harsh swallow and part nervous chuckle.

“Neither,” you said, biting your bottom lip.

Carefully, you leaned closer, your hands reaching up to cup his scruffy cheeks. Noses nuzzled as your lips ghosted against his with a daring grin. You wouldn’t go further; it was up to Dean to make that final decision.

And then, as no more than a mere second ticked by on the clock, the hunter crashed his lips against yours in a kiss so scorching it made the current heat wave look like an ice age. If you thought you were hot before, now it felt like you were burning in a wildfire.

Dean roughly pushed you against the door, his kiss all teeth and tongue in an uncontrollable frenzy. His dick was hard and thick, straining against his jeans and rubbing along your thigh. Pantingly, you gasped for air and grabbed his hand, guiding it down your body and into your shorts.

“Feel that?” you asked mischievously as his fingers dug through your soaked folds and collected the arousal he caused. A wanton growl left his plush lips. “All for you, baby. You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?”

“Shit, yeah, so bad…” Dean rasped huskily against your throat as he worshipped his path down your body, forcing your shirt up till his wet tongue rolled over your pert and still cold nipple.

“Gonna make it up to me, huh? Show me how sorry you are?” you prompted, your fingers raking through his sandy blond and soft hair, eliciting a groan from him every time you tugged a little harder.

Teeth pinched your skin, tongue cherished your taste, and lips left your throat bruised. It was equal parts hot, sweaty, messy, naughty, dirty, and sticky as your bodies rutted against one another, looking for dire release.

With swollen and plumper than before lips, he came back up for air and found your eyes. He kissed you with heated passion once more as if he couldn’t resist to touch you over and over again. He had to restrain himself to be able to speak.

“So, uhm, you sure about this?” Dean asked between labored breaths with an insecure gleam in his green eyes. “‘Cause if we go further, I don’t think I can stop. And I don’t mean just this time but ever… If you want this to be a one time thing, you gotta tell me, sweetheart, so I can mentally prepare myself. I mean, I’ll take what I can get, you know? Not that I care either way… Well, that’s not true. I do care. A lot… But, you know, you’re you, and I’m me, so I’m not delusional. I know there’s no way you would–”

You interrupted his babbling with a kiss, causing the hunter to lose his words. You looked deeply into his eyes and offered him a small smile of comfort.

“Dean, listen to me, okay? ‘Cause this is very important,” you urged, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.

He nodded, gulping anxiously. “O-Okay.”

“You’re incredible,” you said and watched him inhale sharply at your words, blinking at you in disbelief. “Absolutely fucking bonkers incredible. You’re right – you’re you. And thank God you are, because you’re the best, funniest, smartest, kindest, and goddamn hottest man I’ve ever met. I’m tired of you not seeing that. As my boyfriend, I really need to you to see that, alright?”

As Dean pensively took in your words, his brow began to furrow. “Boyfriend?”

The corners of your mouth rose to a beam. “Yeah, boyfriend,” you confirmed. “That’s what you want, right? ‘Cause I’d really like that, too.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah… That’s what I want.” Dean nodded eagerly before another swallow followed. “I mean, among other things…”

You bit your lip, smirking. “What other things?”

“Well, uhm…”

Dean didn’t finish his sentence, his lips impatiently claiming yours instead. He pressed you hungrily back against the door, massive hands sliding down your sides till they hooked into the hem of your denim shorts and ripped them down to your ankles, leaving you only covered in teal lace. He growled shamelessly at the sight, his thick digits eagerly diving inside.

“Wanna be inside you,” he groaned into your ear, thumbing furiously at your clit. “Every hour of every day…”

“We can do that,” you agreed with a giggle, your arms locking around his neck, fingers carding through his hair in the back.

“Wanna feel your mouth around my–” The last word was muffled as he ravaged your neck, but you understood where he was going with this.

“You can do that,” you said with a smile.

“And fuck, I want you to ride my face,” he declared. That demand left you speechless, making even Dean stop for a minute and look at you. “Too far?”

You shook your head and smirked. “I can do that.”

Before Dean’s mind could fathom your words, you shoved him onto the bed, his back hitting the mattress. When you stood before him, slotted between his muscular legs, his gaze trailed up and down your body, memorizing every beautiful curve. As your fingers curled into the waistband of your panties, however, the hunter stopped you.

“Leave ‘em on, sweetheart. Don’t you dare take those off,” he told you, his hands rapaciously reaching out to you.

You played with the hem of your top and smirked, your tongue licking over your lips. “What about this? On or off?”

“Off,” he shot back faster than a bullet leaving a barrel.

“You first,” you demanded and grinned. “Remember, this is still your punishment.”

“God, I love getting punished,” Dean mumbled and slipped out of his shirt. He then swiftly shimmied out of his jeans, discarding each item carelessly around the room.

He then took a deep breath as he tugged the waistband of his boxers, his erection already fighting its way out. “Well, here goes nothing,” the hunter said and pulled his underwear down.

You tilted your head to see his hard cock from a better angle as it sprang against his stomach. Your lips parted in anticipation, wondering what he’d taste like on your tongue and how deep you’d be able to take him. You guessed there’d be a struggle ahead, considering how huge and wide he was.

“Oh, I would not call that monster nothing,” you commented with a scoff, your pussy throbbing with need. “Explains all that BDE.”

Dean blushed. It was cute to watch. “Thank you.”

Giggling, you removed your shirt and tossed it at his face, blinding him for a second. You used that momentum to slide onto the bed and straddle his torso. As his eyes finally found you again, he almost choked on his spit when he gazed up at your perfect tits above him. A primal grunt escaped his throat.

With a mesmerized sparkle in his eyes, his hands trailed up your body and cupped your breasts, massaging them roughly as your panties grew damper by the minute. He then pulled you down to his lips and kissed you breathless before he left them with a boyish smirk on his freckled face.

“Hop on, sweetheart.”

And as if his words hadn’t been enough motivation, his hands wandered to palm your ass and hauled you closer to his mouth. He was an impatient one – or maybe he’d waited years for this and was finally tired of it.

Your knees sunk into the mattress on either side of his stubborn head. His fingers dented your flesh as they grabbed onto your thighs. Yours held onto the headboard for support. You tried not to look down, because then you’d see his big lopsided and full of excitement grin.

The same one he had when you found a diner in Kentucky that advertised the biggest burger in America (it wasn’t). The same one he had when he thought he had run into a member of Metallica at a gas station outside of Phoenix (he didn’t). The same one he had when you and Sam gifted him his own beer brewing station for his last birthday (which tasted horrible, but neither you nor Sam had the heart to tell him).

And now, he had that same grin when he was about to be with you.

As your pussy dripped above him, Dean couldn’t hold back his lewd groans any longer. You didn’t even have to lower yourself; he just dragged you down onto his face all to eagerly. His fingers swiped your panties to the side, and before you could even adjust your grip on the bedpost, his tongue darted into your soaked channel as deeply as he could and sucked you goddamn dry.

With several whimpers, you clenched around his wet muscle. If you were water in the desert, he was parched and drinking to survive.

His nose was buried in your folds, rubbing deliciously against your clit as he lapped your pussy in a vicious attack that left you squirming and moaning to a pornographic degree above him. Because Dean was just that – pure porn.

Instinctively and irresistibly, you ground your cunt against him, the vibrations of his keen groans against your sensitive flesh rocking you to the edge of your climax. He ate you out and devoured you like that damn gigantic burger in Kentucky. And as you dared to blink down and watch him in action, he had the audacity to devilishly smirk up at you with the crinkles around his green eyes alone, gauging your every reaction to his touches as if you were a goddamn movie on a silver screen.

You trembled and quivered and screamed as your orgasm electrified every molecule in your body. You white-knuckled the wood in your grip, your body only held up by Dean’s strong arms because God knows your weak legs were useless now.

As wave after wave washed over you, Dean drank every drop of yours, his tongue never getting enough of your taste. The sounds that filled the room were carnal and obscene.

“Fuck, Dean,” you sighed blissfully and lifted off his face and captured his swollen and red lips in a grateful kiss, your palms finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Your drenched and sensitive cunt settled on his thighs as an egregiously large erection poked your belly and tempted you further.

Dean smirked up at you, all satisfied and confident with his achievement. “I think we have a slight problem, though.”

Your brow knitted, your heart tightening with anxiety. Had you been as disappointing as the burger, beer, and that fake Metallica band member?

But Dean only grinned teasingly at your confused face. “There’s no way I learned my lesson here.”

You snorted and sought out his lips, the kiss giving you a taste of yourself. “We’ll work on that. I might have to nickname you Jaws after this,” you joked.

“Can’t wait for you to explain that one to Sammy.” Dean snorted, chuckling. “Now, how about you hop on again, but this time a little further south, huh?” he proposed with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a suggestive twitch of his cock for emphasis.

You giggled with a few nods. “I can do that.”

Was it worth the words? 😝

For all you newcomers and as a general reminder, Dirty Drabbles are always open. I still have quite a few left, but you're welcome to send more in, and we'll add it to the collection at some point 😎🔥

PUT YOUR DIRTY THOUGHTS HERE

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @imsapphine @globetrotter28 @mxltifxnd0m @lacilou

#dirty drabbles #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester reader inser #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #supernatural #supernatural reader insert #jensen ackles #jensen ackles smut #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfic

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supernaturalfreewill · 6 months

Text

"Hey! That's my shirt!" Dean said, watching you slip the soft cotton of his t-shirt on over your head. It swallowed up your frame and left you with slightly tousled hair.

You bit your bottom lip and grinned at him. "So?"

He sat up in bed, the sheet still swirled around his hips. You let your eyes wander over his strong chest. "So, that's why all my clothes keep disappearing. Do you have that green flannel too?"

"Maybe," you smiled innocently. "You like how they look on me anyway," you said, revolving in place so Dean could see just how his t-shirt brushed your thighs from all angles.

He sighed and clicked his tongue. "I can't argue with that... but I would like them back eventually."

You shrugged, carefree. "You can file your complaint in the suggestion box," you said cheekily.

Dean chuckled. "Oh yeah? Where's that?"

"Oh, it's that gray bin over there by my desk, next to the recycling can..."

"Alright, that's enough sass. Gimme back my shirt and get back in bed!" Dean demanded through more laughter, reaching for you. You tried to dart away, out of reach of his long arms, but he was too fast and soon tugged you back into the bed right on top of him.

#dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #spn reader insert

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octoberclidan · 5 months

Text

Her Boys

Request: hi:) can you do sam x reader x dean where reader lives with them and after hunts she usually falls asleep in the back of impala (sometimes with her head on castiel's lap) so sam and dean takes turns on carrying her to motel bed and giving forehead goodnight kiss (sam's turn in this fic ) and some nights after having nightmares she sneaks out to one of their bed (dean's in this fic)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader and Sam Winchester x Reader, a bit of Castiel x Reader

Masterlist

Story:

"Dean", Castiel's voice sounded from the back of the Impala. "I think you should turn your music down".

"What? Why?" Dean sounded almost offended by Cas' request. It was late, and they were driving to a motel after a successful hunt. It was dark out and raining, so Dean had turned his music up even louder than usually so it could be heard over the rain hitting the windshield and roof of his car. Sam turned around to look at Cas, and Cas looked down to his lap. Sam nodded and reached forward to turn the music down low, and swatted Dean's hand away when Dean tried to turn it back up.

"She's asleep", Sam whispered to him, and Dean glanced up into the rearview mirror, only finding Cas looking back at him. [Y/N] had a habit of falling asleep in the car after hunts. The boys could run on limited sleep, but she couldn't keep her energy up like them. She was sore from the hunt, having been pushed and thrown around a lot, and after running all over the place for hours, she was exhausted. She'd lasted about fifteen minutes in the car sitting up before she'd given in and leaned over to lie in Cas' lap. He had his hand resting on her shoulder, lightly rubbing it with his thumb, and she had one of her arms wrapped around herself, the other holding on to Cas' thigh.

The Impala was warm, and safe, and familiar. It smelled like a mixture of all three of her favourite people; the Winchesters and Cas. She hadn't even been with them all that long, just under a year, but they were her family, and they were her home. They'd all taken a likening to her from the moment they'd met, and they all had a soft spot for her. Dean thrived on taking care of people, and while Sam and Cas made that difficult for him sometimes, [Y/N] made it easy. She didn't complain when he was slightly overprotective of her on hunts, and she never refused his help when he offered it. She satisfied the nurturing need he had, though he'd never admit it. Sam had been looked out for and taken care of his whole life by Dean, and whenever he tried to return the favour, Dean wouldn't let him. [Y/N] was never embarrassed by Sam looking out for her, she always valued his advice, and the fact that she so openly looked up to him made him feel important. She'd definitely had a warm and positive impact on the team dynamics, and they'd do whatever they could to make her want to stay with them.

The rumble of the car's engine was muffled by having her ear pressed against Cas' lap, but she began to stir when the rain got heavier. Cas quickly pulled his hand off her shoulder and lay it gently on her other ear to block out the noise, and her breathing deepened again. All three of them remained silent for the rest of the drive, and Cas only removed his hand from her ear when the rain stopped.

***

It was awhile later when Dean pulled into a motel that had a vacancy sign lit up, and while he got out to go get a room, Cas and Sam stayed in the car with [Y/N]. He was back a few minutes later with a key card, knocking lightly on the passenger window to let Sam know before opening up the trunk and grabbing their bags. Sam got out of the car and opened up the back door, where Cas carefully helped maneuver [Y/N] into Sam's arms. Sam had one arm under her knees and his other around her back, she fit perfectly into his arms. Her head fell against his shoulder as he straightened up and made sure he had a good grip on her. He looked down at her, she looked so peaceful and innocent, it was hard to think of the girl in his arms as the same person who he'd seen earlier shooting the monster they'd been hunting.

Cas held the door open for the boys as they walked into the motel room, before letting them know that he had a few things to check on in Heaven and would be back in the morning. Dean dropped the bags down onto one of the beds while Sam walked [Y/N] over to bed farthest from the door; the boys liked making sure that she was always in the safest place possible. He lay her down on the bed and brushed her hair out of her face as Dean dug through his bag to find one of his hoodies, one that he knew [Y/N] liked as it was thick and warm, and quite big on her. He walked over to Sam and nodded at him, letting him know he was ready to do something that the two of them had gotten used to doing on nights after hunts. Sam slowly lifted [Y/N] into a sitting position, holding her head against his chest to keep her comfortable. Dean unzipped her jacket and pulled it off her, leaving her t-shirt on. The two of them slid the hoodie onto her, pulling her arms through the sleeves and pulling it down over her. Sam then let her lie back down and smiled in thanks to Dean, letting him know that he could go get himself ready for bed.

While Dean was in the bathroom, Sam untied [Y/N]'s shoes and pulled them off. He then pulled the covers of the bed over her and tucked her in, making sure that none of the cool motel room air would disturb her. He watched as she snuggled into her pillow, smiling in her sleep. Sam wondered what she was dreaming about, and was looking forward to hearing about it in the morning over breakfast. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead, a habit he'd picked up that he found soothed him. Being able to kiss her on the forehead and feel her warmth under his lips reminded him that she was alive, and she was safe, and protected.

***

Several hours passed when [Y/N] began to stir. Her good dream had slowly morphed into a nightmare, and she'd been experiencing a version of the hunt that had not gone as well as it had in reality. She breathed in sharply as her eyes shot open and she sat up, in darkness, momentarily not knowing where she was, until she smelled Dean's scent just under her chin. She grabbed the collar of the material and pulled it up to her nose, the smell instantly calming her. She smiled as she realised it was her favourite hoodie of his, and that the boys must have put her to bed. She turned her head to the side and let her eyes adjust, she could just about make out their silhouettes in the two beds beside hers. She pushed her covers back and let her legs hang over the side of the bed, the coolness of the air making her shiver slightly. She made sure to be quiet as she stood up, not wanting to interrupt their sleep, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep after a nightmare on her own. She needed one of her boys.

Dean's bed was closest to hers, and he'd also left space beside him. She wasn't sure if that was intentional or not, but she took it as an invitation. She looked over to Sam to make sure he was okay, and smiled when he mumbled something in his sleep and then chuckled to himself. She owed a lot to the Winchesters, and to Cas too. They'd never told her that they loved her, and she'd never told them that she loved them either, but she didn't need verbal confirmation. She knew that she was loved, she could feel it in their actions every day. She carefully pulled back the covers on Dean's bed and slid in beside him, turning to face away from him and feel the heat of his body on her back. Only a minute later, she felt Dean's strong arm wrap around her waist and she was pulled against his chest. She felt his nose on the back of her neck as he breathed her in, and she felt his breath tickle her shoulder as he breathed out. There was no chance of her nightmare coming back that night as she drifted off in Dean's arms, knowing that even though she hunted monsters and demons, as long as she had her boys, she would be safe and sound.

The end

Dean Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @k-slla @lyarr24 @candy-coated-misery0731 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx

Sam Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @hobby27 @angelwiththeshotgun @pizzagirlxnsfwx

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gilverrwrites · 28 days

Note

Hello, me again

Could you make also, a Dean having erotic/dirty dream with his female best friend or rival (or a best friend that is also a rival).

And all that she does remember him of his smut dreams

Not So Sweet Dreams

Author note: Sorry for the delay, I've been super busy with unrelated things, but I had a lot of fun writing this and trying to get into Dean's mind set. I hope it's what you wanted and that you enjoy it!

Pairing: Dean Winchester/F!Reader

Rating: M/18+

Words: 3349

Content: Dean being jealous and over-protective. Male gaze/male fantasies, drinking, swearing, violence, blood, vampires, arguing, hatesex, (kinda) subby Dean, teasing, dirty talk, unprotected sex, p in v sex, woman on top.

Please remember: That you deserve love.

Ko-Fi || Masterlist || Request Info

You were being surprisingly level-headed about the whole thing. The two of you had inadvertently wound up at the same nightclub, hunting the same nest of vampires. You’d begrudgingly agreed to work together, two hunters are better than one, after all. But you’d been reckless. You, strutting around in your skimpy black dress to get their attention, acting drunk and helpless, had been part of the plan. Watching you had undoubtedly been his favourite part. You letting one of the vamps take you into the back office without warning and without backup was not. You were supposed to lure them outside, not deeper into the building, behind far more security. By the time Dean had found a way to stealthily follow, he’d found you in a precarious position. Time seemed to stand still as he took a moment to process the sight. Your dress, or what was left of it, was all but hanging off as you fought back against not one but THREE bloodsuckers. The image of your ass in that tiny little thong, would be etched into his mind until the day he died. When he found his bearings again, he stepped up. If there is one thing he’s good at, it's decapitating vampires. Even you couldn’t deny how quickly and skilfully he’d taken out your opponents before swooping you into his arms and taking you back to the car. He’d expected your normally ungrateful ass to be, well… ungrateful. After years of reluctantly crossing paths, he’d come to expect your brash, defiant attitude but you were taking the whole thing pretty well. In fact, he was considering how he might slip you some holy water when your voice interrupted his thoughts. “Thank you so much again, Dean.” You purred, and he looked over at you, sitting in the remnants of your disguise and his jacket, comfortable and safe in the passenger seat of his baby. The words sounded all wrong coming out of your mouth, but he wasn’t complaining. You reached over and patted his inner thigh, making his breath hitch as you continued. "Really, I’m so grateful.” At that moment, he pulled up outside the motel the two of you were checked into, separately. Taking advantage of your newly found pliable nature, Dean asked, while cocking his thumb towards his room; “You wanna come in? Have a drink?” You nodded and allowed him to slip his arm around your waist as he led the way. You didn’t object when he guided you to sit on his lap or brush him off as he examined the scrapes and bruises on your arms. “I didn’t know you could be so well-behaved.” He teased as he finished tending to the worst of your wounds. You giggled in response, actually fucking giggled; it was magical and confusing as hell. “What is up with you today?” “I want you, Dean,” you replied, looking down at him through your lashes. You placed your hand on his cheek, gently pulling him closer until your lips locked. Your lips were so soft against his, and in that moment, he decided to stop questioning your personality transplant and just go with it—at least for the night.

Every tiny detail of his illicit dream flashed through Dean's mind now as he watched you across the dancefloor. Your little black dress wasn’t quite the same as in his dream, but it and everything else was damn close enough. Where your weapons were hidden was totally beyond him.

You’d been less than thrilled when you’d bumped into him at the motel, but had reluctantly agreed to team up with him for the hunt. The similarities should make him nervous, but he just couldn’t seem to make himself care in the moment. Not at the sight of you, seemingly lost to the music, dancing beneath the flashing lights. Your body was so much hotter than he’d dreamed it. He was so engrossed in the sway of your hips that he barely noticed the glare you shot him before shimmying further into the crowd.

Dean takes a swig of the beer he’d bought as a prop, attempting to clear his head from the fantastical image of your hips, naked and riding him, from the way your body curved with each move. This is gonna be a long night. With another sip of his beer, he starts walking, patrolling the club, taking stock of the exits, the staff, all the things he should be keeping tabs on.

When he sees you again, you’re seated at the bar, smiling, chatting with a bloodsucker whose hand is so far up your thigh he’s surprised you aren’t squirming. In his dreams, your skin burned hot, and your breathing hitched when he ran his hand between your legs.

He slows, trying to eavesdrop, but he can’t make out a word over the booming music and the hustle of the crowd. He wants to head up to the bar to get closer in case you need help. But he can’t afford the risk of making a scene, so he keeps walking, intent on circling the building once more before finding a vantage point he can monitor you from. But when he returns, you’ve left the bar.

Cursing under his breath, he scans his environment; he finds you on the other side of the floor. Stumbling around in the arms of the same handy bloodsucker you’d been pawing at the bar. He should have fucking known this would happen. Exasperated, he watches as you’re guided through a door with a keypad, not an exit door. You were being herded into some kind of off-limits staff area. This was not the plan.

He pulled out his phone, watching intently as he waited for the time display to change. As much as it killed him, he couldn’t hurry in, guns blazing. That would put you at even more risk. As soon as 3 minutes had passed, he checked his surroundings for fangbangers before marching to the door. Luckily, the keypad was old, and the numbers 1278 were worn. He started punching in codes until the door gave way on 1827. The hallway was clear, and he could hear commotion coming from a room at the end of the hall.

When he entered, you were anything but the helpless damsel he’d saved in his dream. You looked powerful and radiant. You were stood tall, fully dressed, and swinging your knife at one of the four vamps as they attempted to advance on you, until you locked eyes with Dean. The swing of you knife had stuck the landing, but the distraction had opened you for an attack from behind. The biggest of your opponents had grabbed you, forcing you into a full-nelson, rendering your arms almost entirely useless. Regardless, you bucked your hips up and kicked at the vamp still in front of you.

That’s when fight mode kicked in for Dean. He pulled his machete from its risky position tucked in the inside of his jeans and started swinging at the other two vampires, taking one out almost instantly. The other was smarter and faster, dodging his strikes and mouthing off every chance he got. Dean didn’t bother quipping back. This was the same vamp who’d been cosying up with you earlier, and he didn’t want to waste any more energy on him.

By the time he’d taken the vamp out, you’d gotten free and were evading the big guy. It seemed your knife was laced with some potent dead man’s blood, because the one you’d stabbed earlier was whimpering on the floor. Dean put the thing out of its misery as he crossed the room to help you.

You had to tag team the last one, taking turns distracting and swinging for it until Dean landed the decapitating blow.

He turned to you, grinning and ready to brag about taking out most of them alone, but he stopped in his tracks when he noticed the nasty gash you were cupping, leading from your shoulder and over your chest. There were more, up and down your arms. Instead, he barked, harsher than intended. “We should get out of here. Fast.”

“But there’s still more.” You argued.

“I don’t care.” His anger didn’t let up. He grabbed you by the wrist, ensuring there were no injuries there first, and began pulling you into the hall. “We’ll deal with that later, let's go.”

He’d offered you his jacket, but you’d declined. This was not how he’d dreamed it. You sat in the passenger seat of his baby, your dress torn and bloodied, your face sour, refusing to look at him. He heard you take a deep breath and braced himself for your snide comment.

“What were you thinking? You could have gotten us killed.” You didn’t even sound mad, you stated it like a fact.

He couldn’t help but do a double take as he processed your words. “Me? We had a plan, and that wasn’t it. What were you thinking, going off alone with them?”

“I had to think on my feet, and it was going perfectly until you barged in and fucked it all up. God I am so sick of you.”

“Perfect my ass! Putting yourself in dange-”

“I was fine, YOU put me in danger.” He opened his mouth to interject but you continued, going full rant. “They saw you sniffing around the club, and when you broke in, they saw you on the CCTV. It wasn’t exactly hard to put 2+2 together. You always do this, you underestimate me. I am not some damsel in distress, I can handle myself.”

The air was thick with bitter tension as he drove the rest of the way to the motel in silence. He didn’t like you going off alone like that, but maybe you had a point. Hunting wasn’t exactly the safest of jobs, and you’d made it this far without him. He should have apologised or tried to smooth things over, but instead, he asked, “Well, princess, will you at least let me patch you up?”

You watched with furrowed brows as he cocked his thumb to point at his room. He’d expected you to ignore him and head for your own room, but you agreed with a nod and crossed your arms as you followed him inside.

He didn’t try getting you to sit in his lap. You sat yourself on the end of the bed as he located his makeshift first-aid pack.

“Should I put the TV on?” He asks, knowing it’ll likely be a long, quiet process if not.

You glare, and he knows he shouldn’t be, but he’s reminded of the look you’d given him across the dancefloor earlier and everything else he’s associated with it. Eventually, you answer. “Whatever.”

He sighs, switches on the TV, and begins patching you up in silence. He tries to be gentle, but the alcohol makes you hiss and groan as he cleans you up. Every moan evokes an indecent image that makes his skin burn with inappropriate arousal. He wonders if you sound the same in bed.

When the worst of the damage is patched up, he starts cleaning up the excess blood, checking for any he might have missed. Blood from the cut across your chest has gathered and congealed in your cleavage. He hooks a finger on the low neckline of your dress and looks to your face for approval. You’re unbothered, eyes fixated on the TV screen with such distaste he wonders if inanimate objects can take offence.

He tugs at the dress, not enough to expose anything but enough to get your attention. You glance down at his hand, then to his face, and shrug before diverting your attention back to the TV. Taking that as permission, he pulls your dress down, almost certainly too far. He takes an involuntary moment to soak in the image, blood and bandages included, you were a vision in your lacy black bra.

Your deliberate coughing brought him back to the present, and he made quick work of cleaning your chest, avoiding your gaze as he worked. When he was done, you pulled your dress back up without delay. You made no move to get up, and he made no effort to move you. Instead, you continued to sit in awkward silence. Both of you too stubborn to speak first.

When you finally broke the silence, you didn’t sound angry anymore, just tired, worried. “The rest of the nest is gonna be on our trail.”

“I know.” He conferred, trying to match your energy. “But it’s almost sunrise, we have time to rest and regroup before tomorrow night.”

“And will I be allowed to fight them, or would you like to cover me in bubble wrap?” Your voice still lacked malice, just sarcasm.

Without taking the time to think through his words, Dean replied. “You can do whatever you want. Just don’t blame me when you get yourself killed, or worse turned.”

“There you go again.” You leaned away from him, rolling your eyes, exasperated. “All your mouth does is talk dumb shit.”

“My mouth does plenty, thank you very much.”

“Like what?” You ask, tone defiant as you watch him through your lashes. The words were wrong, but the intense gaze matched his fantasy. He half expected you to reach out and pull him in for a kiss. When you don’t, he does it for you. You taste like salt and booze, but your lips are so soft, they melt right into his.

When you pull away, he braces himself for you to yell, or punch, or leave, but instead, your eyes rake over his face. He notices the heat in his cheeks when you comment, “Are you blushing, Winchester? Because of me?”

“No, it’s hot in here.” He replies curtly, still not wanting to give you the upper hand.

“Funny.” You aren’t laughing as you look around the room. “I’m pretty cold.”

“You lost a lot of blood. That’s one of the symptoms.”

“Isn’t delirium also a symptom. If it’s that bad, are you taking advantage of me?” You raise brows at him, challenging him.

In return, he shoots you with the most puppy-dog concerned face he can muster. “Are you? Delirious? Should we stop?”

“No, get back over here and kiss me.” Now you reach for him, placing both hands on his cheeks and pulling him closer until your lips lock again. Mid kiss, you straddle him, holding him still with your arm around his neck as you begin to grind against his clothed erection.

He paws at the skirt of your dress until you get the hint and pull it over your head. He only gets a second to enjoy the view before you return the gesture, lifting his shirt up until he finishes the job for you. By the time he’s done, you’ve removed your bra as well. He greets the unobstructed sight of your breasts by planting himself between them, lavishing them with his mouth, sucking and nibbling at your nipples as you roll your hips against him.

Offering you reprieve, he pulls back to watch you as he dips his hand into your panties, happy to be greeted by the slick between your folds. Not bothering to tease, he plunges a finger straight in, enjoying the way your heat immediately clenches around him. He pumps the solo digit a few times before adding a second and a third, and you take each one perfectly. The sounds you make are just how he’d dreamed it, but also somehow better.

The best sound is the squeal you make as he quickly retracts his fingers and switches your position, laying you flat on your back as he straddles your thighs. You take it in your stride, however, and plant your hands on his shoulder before slipping them down his chest to hook into the waistband of his jeans. You work together to undo his belt and jeans. Dean shimmies them down just low enough to expose his dick. You must like what you see because he notices the way you lick your lips at the sight. He makes a mental note to see about putting your mouth to good use at a later time.

Your whole body seems to shiver when he runs the tip of his hardened cock between your slit, deliberately circling your clit.

“You like that?” He coos.

You respond by pushing him off you. He concedes, rolling onto his back and letting you mount him once again. “Shut up.”

He laughs but otherwise does as he’s told, barely able to keep his composure as he takes in the sight of you. You grip his cock, pumping a few times before you start lining him up with your entrance, and he prays you don’t mock his blushing again.

You don’t say anything, but you lock eyes with him as you slide his cock between your lips and sink down onto him. Fuck, you feel so fucking good, better than he could have imagined. Your walls are tight and wet around him, and he can’t help but grip onto your hips, not to force you down, but to make sure you don’t retreat.

When you reach the base, you seize all movement, presumably allowing yourself to adjust, but he can’t help rocking his hip beneath you. You both groan in sync at the feeling.

“Impatient.” You scold, but your voice is soft and dreamy.

“Can’t help it.” He returns, thrusting up again and enjoying the way your eyes roll back in response. “You feel too good, you take it so well.”

You glare at him, challenging him as you reposition your feet, readying to start, and he bites his lip in anticipation.

With no further warning, you start riding him, setting a fast, reckless pace, and releases your hips to fists at the sheets, trying to distract himself from the fact he’s already about to blow his load.

“I think I’m gonna-”

He’s cut off by the immediate narrowing of your eyes. “Don’t you dare, not until I’ve cum first. You owe me.”

“Fuck. Yes ma’am.” He groans through gritted teeth as you continue to fuck yourself on his cock.

It’s agonising, watching you sway above him, taking what you want from his body. He watches with bated breath as you start to play with your clit, pleasuring yourself. His whole-body jerks, trying to hold back when he feels your walls squeeze around him. You lol your head back, moaning to the ceiling when you finally hit your climax.

Your body slows as you try to catch your breath, but it’s Dean's turn. He sits up, lifting you by your ass just enough to ease the process of him rutting up into your leaking cunt.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum deep inside you.” He chants.

You nod, blasé and tell him; “Do it.”

As if on demand, he shoots his load, spilling inside you with a loud, animalistic groan.

Your weight falls on him, your head resting against his shoulder. He feels his own energy slowly draining as well, but that doesn’t stop him from placing absentminded kisses on the back of your neck as he carefully falls back against the bed, taking you with him. Of everything that had happened that night, cuddling was the most surprising to him.

After a few minutes he speaks up, shifting to guide you back up. His soft cock slips out, and he feels his own cum drip back onto him. “We should get cleaned up.”

“Yeah.” You nod, taking his queue, standing from bed, and heading for the bathroom to get cleaned up. “And we should really start working on a plan nightfall.”

“Maybe we should get some rest first. Regroup when we're not both exhausted.”

“Are you kidding.” Your head pokes out of the bathroom door. “They could be on our trail right now… What?”

“Nothin’.” He shrugs. All the tension you’d just released together was already building back up. “You just don’t ever fucking change.”

#supernatural reader insert #supernatural imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester smut #gilverrwrites

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mysmuttyself · 1 month

Text

My care for you

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Rating: 18+

Summary: When Y/n's baking session is interrupted by the magnetic presence of Dean Winchester, their encounter in the kitchen heats up far beyond the oven's temperature.

Tags: Smut, p in v, kitchen sex, pure filth, improper use of pie, possessive Dean, dirty talk, established relationship,

Word count: 809

A/N: This is basically just me pining for Dean freacking Winchester. I baked i pie last week and i got inspired. Please be nice English is not my first language. Enjoy ;)

Everything was ready. The dough had been stored in the fridge to chill. Y/n expertly sliced the apples, the knife gliding through the fruit with practiced ease, she then drizzled them with lemon juice, before pouring the slices in a pan to simmer with sugar and cinnamon.

She was just adding the last touch, a sprinkle of nutmeg, when she felt two strong, calloused hands surround her just below the waist. His scent enveloped her, a combination of musk and amber, strong enough to weaken her knees.

"De" said Y/n in a plaintive tone. She had leaned his head against his solid, muscular chest. "Would you like me to finish this pie for you?"

Dean's lips curved into a playful smile against her neck. He continued to stroke the skin around her ribcage.

"I know baby, it's that you look so damn hot when you cook for me my favourite plate, so caring and sweet, good enough to eat."

He peppered kisses along her neck, and she melted in his arms.

As Dean continued to trail kisses down Y/n's neck, his hands moved lower, slipping under the hem of her shirt to caress the soft skin of her stomach. Y/n's breath hitched, a shiver of anticipation running through her as she leaned back into his touch.

"Dean," she moaned, her voice barely above a whisper, "what about the pie? I could burn the filling"

Dean's smirk only widened as he murmured huskily, "Screw the pie, sweetheart. Right now, all I want to do is fill you up"

She just had the time to turn off the stove before he spun her around, pressing her against the kitchen counter with a hungry urgency. His lips crashed against hers in a heated kiss, tongues tangling as desire surged between them. Y/n moaned into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair as she surrendered completely to him.

Dean's hands roamed eagerly over her body, pulling the fabric of her skirt up.

“Look at the mess you made baby, is this all for me?” He asked moving the dampening panties to the side to reveal her wet core. Y/n arched into his touch unable to answer, aching for more as he started to tease her, rocking his till clothed shaft against her wet folds.

"Dean," she gasped, her voice thick with need, "please..."

Her plea hung in the air like a silent prayer, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for his response. Dean's darkened gaze met hers, a flicker of primal hunger flashing in his eyes as he leaned in close, his lips grazing her earlobe with a tantalizing whisper.

“Tell me what you need sweetheart” he breathed, his sultry low voice sent shivers down her spine.

“I need you, I need your cock” Y/n begged him. A primal growl rumbled from deep within Dean's chest. His desire for her burned hot and fierce, matching the intensity of her own need.

"Then you shall have me" Dean husked, in one swift motion, he freed himself from his clothing, his throbbing length springing eagerly into view. Y/n's breath caught in her throat at the sight. He was beautifully thick, if a cock could have been defined pretty, it was Dean’s.

Without a word, Dean positioned himself between her trembling thighs, his hands gripping her hips possessively as he guided himself to her slick entrance.

“Are gonna be a good girl? Take me nice and deep?” He asked her in a so very low tone.

“Yes, yes, Dean please” With a slow, torturous push, he entered her, the sensation of their bodies joining sending waves of pleasure coursing through them both

Y/n gasped as Dean filled her completely, every inch of him stretching and filling her in the most delicious way imaginable. She clung to him desperately, nails digging into his back as he began to move with a rhythm that was both primal and intoxicating.

With each thrust, Dean drove Y/n to the brink of ecstasy, his name falling from her lips in a breathless mantra of desire.

“Tell me that you are mine” His words, laden with desire and command.

"I'm yours, Dean," she gasped, her voice trembling with need. "All yours."

With each thrust, Dean claimed her as his own, their bodies moving in perfect synchrony. When Dean's calloused hand reached to stimulate her clit, it was too much for Y/n.

She exploded in a climax of lust, and Dean reached his own orgasm a couple of thrusts later, moaning her name.

They looked at each other for what seemed like endless seconds. Then he finally smiled and said, “Looks like we worked up an appetite” murmuring as he reached for the nearby apple pie filling. He sucked on his finger and then fed it to her.

#dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester smut #possessive!dean #supernatural imagine #spn #reader insert #dean winchester one shot

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nyxiswrites1200 · 4 months

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🩵𝑺𝒂𝒎'𝒔 𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍🩵

Sam Winchester x Fem!reader

Warnings: NSFT, MDNI, Crushing, friends to lovers, pet names, Sexual tension, Mellow sexual thoughts, Size kink, p in v, nipple play, multiple rounds, oral sex, praise kink, aftercare

Mentions: She/her reader pronouns, Reader wears a skirt, Reader is implied to be shorter than Sam, Imagining early seasons Sam, Dean is present

"In a world of boys, he's a gentleman"

AN: uhh I know I died for like a month but supernatural brain rot is incoming. Sam girl for life <3 anyhow, happy holidays loves. This is so self-indulging, sorry babes.

----

Sam Winchester is an awkward man. He's so respectful he doesn't know what to do with himself sometimes. But don't mistake his sweet attitude for a lack of attraction.

When you bend over to pick his book up off the floor for him, he notices your skirt sliding up your thighs. He quickly looks away as he runs a hand through the back of his messy brown hair.

Sam always opens the door of the Impala for you when you join him and Dean on road trips. He notices the way you let your hand brush over his arm as you help yourself into the car. Dean just lets out a small laugh as he climbs into the driver's seat.

Sam watches you saunter around the motel room in his shirt. Under the claim that 'it's just more comfortable'. He loves the way your figure is swallowed up by his larger clothes.

Sometimes it was almost degrading how respectful he was. In truth, you were trying to get his attention. To catch him peaking under your skirt, getting hard from seeing you in his shirt, or him finally being pushed over the edge by your 'discreet' affectionate touches. You swore you were gonna have to climb in his lap and say "fuck me" for him to actually do it.

In truth, Sam wasn't oblivious to what you wanted. Rather he was too kind to give it to you. He thought you were so precious that he needed to deny you. Sleeping with you would be too personal, too intimate and he wouldn't be able to let go of you after.

Dean let out a small laugh, Sam and him were alone in the hotel room while you went to go get dinner for the three. "What, Dean?" Sam asked in his partially sassy attitude as he read through his book. "Nothing nothing...it's just funny watching her pawn for you. Think you might be hurtin' her feelings." Dean smirked as he looked over at his little brother. Sam sighed in response, knowing he could only be talking about you. "I'm not that stupid, I know what she wants...I just..." he ran a hand through his hair "I don't think I should". "Sammy" Dean inquires "Look, she knows what we do. She hasn't gone running yet and she's perfectly human, there's nothing dangerous about that girl" he chuckles. "I know you're afraid because of what happened but...I think this might be something worth risking".

Sam let Dean's words simmer in his thoughts all night. For once he might actually agree with his older brother.

The next night you and Sam were alone. You finally spilled, being brutally honest. Sam watched with a bit of shock as you admitted how you'd be pawning for him. All your actions had a purpose and how bad you wanted to be his girlfriend. You almost wanted to cry with how emotionally overwhelmed this made you trying to explain yourself.

"Lovely, I'm sorry..." Sam stands as he cups your cheek and tilts your head up to meet his gaze. "I know you want me but I was being selfish because I know if I...indulge myself in you, I won't be able to let you go ever again." he explained, his voice was so gentle and his eyes reminded you of a puppy with the way he looked at you. "Maybe...I'm a little selfish too" you chime in "I just...I wanna be yours so bad that I don't really care what happens".

Those words alone tumbled the tension between both of you over the edge. Sam's kisses were soft then heated and needy. He had you pushed against the motel wall while both of you discarded your clothes. His larger figure covered you as he kissed you desperately. His hands engulfed your hips as he gripped them.

Once you two were on the bed, his hands fondled your breasts, teasing your nipples between his fingers. His chest pressed into your back as he kissed along your neck. You reached back to tangle a hand into his hair.

Sam was so sweet but he was a fucking god in bed. He knew exactly where to kiss, fondle, and tease. Nothing but deeply slurred words of "How does that feel?", "You okay?", "Taking me so well, lovely", and "Good girl...". You went three rounds with him...

He rubbed your clit and toyed with your nipples, leaving kisses and sucking up your neck. You came on his fingers, feeling him stretch you open. You wanted to watch his strong hands fuck into you so bad.

He nestled himself between your thighs. His tongue lapping up your first orgasm. You watched as you tugged on his hair, noticing the dominant look in his eyes. His hands gripping your thighs to keep them spread as you squirmed beneath him. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked on it until he fucked his tongue inside you while you came again.

Then finally he fills you with his cock, only after making sure you were okay. He had you stuffed to the brim, grunts and moans leaving him with each thrust. He pressed his forehead against yours as he kissed your cervix with the tip of his dick.

When you came for a third time, he let you ride your high until he pulled out and finished on your stomach. A gentleman as always, not stuffing you with his cum on the first night. Even if you wouldn't have minded.

Sam carefully cleaned you up in the bath. Warm water envelops you both. He placed a soft kiss on your shoulder and gently rubbed your side as he cleaned you up. His actions are no longer lustful, this was just affectionate. "Did you enjoy yourself? Wasn't too much?" he asked softly, his expression back to looking like a puppy. "I'm fine, Sammy. It was perfect..." You smiled and kissed him softly.

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all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 2 months

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The Most Innocent Sinner

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Summary: For everyone, she's the shy, pure, little Y/n. Dating Dean Winchester is like going on dates with the complete opposite of her. So it is a very nice surprise when Dean learns how kinky she actually is by finding her collection of sex toys.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Content warning: Sex toys, masturbation (male and female), dirty talk

Square filled: Dildos for @spnkinkevents / “Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home.” for @jacklesversebingo / masturbation for @anyfandomkinkbingo / “Unfortunately, I’m turned on by that.” for @anyfandomgoesbingo

A/n: Finding a title is so hard. I got stuck on this one for way too long. Big thanks to my friends that helped me!

From the outside, Y/n looked like a Saint. Cute, she wasn't very tall and almost sickly shy, and her social anxiety didn't help her case at all.

Since she didn’t have many friends, Y/n spent her time at the library surrounded by stories that made her forget how alone she felt. The characters on these yellowed sheets would never judge or criticize her, it was a comfort in which she really liked to immerse herself, especially after a hard day.

It was also where she met the Winchester brothers for the first time.

For someone like Y/n, the complete opposite of popular, invisible to people even when she was in the same room with them, the Winchesters were the pinnacle of perfection. Bodies built like gods, well-defined faces, piercing eyes, they gave off a strong and dominating aura that attracted the gaze of everyone in their path. And Y/n was no exception.

The moment the two brothers walked near her table at the library, there was no longer any need to read. Her book closed by itself in front of her, as she no longer held it open, her eyes fixedly stuck on the two men. Following their directions with her gaze, she turned her head, almost hurting her neck.

The colors around her suddenly seemed more vivid. The sounds, sweeter to the ear. She strained her ear to better listen to their conversations. And it was then that the stories she loved reading so much... Became reality.

Y/n had always had a habit of making herself fade away. Not wanting to attract attention, remaining discreet and making herself as small as possible. But the moment she saw them, it was like a light bulb went on inside her, and filled her with a life she had never really felt. And she decided to change that.

She didn’t want to hide anymore.

It was an adventure awaiting her, just like in her books. Filled with villains, monsters, but also angels, laughter, food and finally, a place where she belonged. It didn't take long for her to take part in their lives, quickly becoming a full member of their families. Although she wasn’t trained to be in the field hunting monsters, her lifelong experience of extensive reading was too vital and important to refuse her help.

Initially, Y/n was assigned to research. It was perfect for her, she could show them how efficient she was at this task so they would give her more to do eventually. Quickly, she climbed the ranks in the Winchesters' trust and became closer to them.

Everything about her personality was perfect to fit with Sam's. And yet, as the months stretched into years, she inevitably grew closer to Dean. Some will say that opposites flock together, and they are not wrong. Dean was the opposite of Y/n, stubborn, he didn't hesitate to say what was on his mind and loved seeing the adorable expression that invaded her face when he made inappropriate or worse, sexual comments. Immediately, Y/n would disappear from the room almost like magic, or she would become so embarrassed that he took pity and immediately changed the subject.

Y/n had a purity that Dean never had, and it was one of the reasons why even after all this time knowing her, he was still reluctant to let her come with them on hunts. Or even to involve her in anything that could endanger her or defile this purity. If he could keep her from losing that sparkle in her eyes, he would, no matter the cost.

After a few months of dating, Y/n finally agreed to live in the bunker with them. Dean helped her move in, putting her things in a room other than his, and although not sharing the same bed disappointed him a little, he understood why. She wasn't ready, and he insisted on her comfort. He was willing to wait for her as long as it took.

“If I had known you had that many boxes, I would have brought in extra hands,” Dean huffed, placing yet another heavy box on the ground. Straightening up, he raised his arms above his head to stretch his back.

“Sorry, all my books,” Y/n shrugged and lowered her head, embarrassed.

With a quick wave of his hand, Dean signaled that it was nothing. “It only takes a little longer but it’s no problem,” he quickly said to reassure her, so she wouldn’t feel bad about having so much stuff. After all this time knowing her, he knew how important her books were to her.

Her 500 books which weighed bricks to transport…

“I'll go get another box,” she accepted Dean's answer and as she passed him on her way out, left a quick kiss on the cheek. It was Dean's turn to react, his face quickly turning red.

“Okay, in the meantime, I'm going to start…” Glancing at the mountain of cardboard, Dean sighed again. “Cleaning a little…”

Sam wasn't there. Although he proposed his help for moving her stuff in, Dean's ego was more powerful. As a boyfriend, he had to take care of his girlfriend himself. Without help. Showing her that he was there for her, and that she would always be his priority.

Dean had been in several relationships in the past. And he loved each woman with all of his soul. But each time, his work, his family or the apocalypse had forced him to leave. It had been a very difficult task each time, but he had done it.

Just the thought of leaving Y/n had the same effect as losing a limb. It was unthinkable.

Ah shit. He was in love.

Him, in love?

It was the first time.

… Wait a minute.

He was in love with her.

This realization hit him harder than he expected. Dean took a few steps back, his head spinning quickly. He was in love. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Never in his entire life had he felt this kind of thing for someone, feelings so strong, so true. When they were together, he felt so good, like he had finally found the thing he was missing. The person he needed.

Dean took another step back, and inevitably, his legs encountered a box. He lost his balance and, trying not to cause a landslide, had to hold himself against the nearest thing… Another box.

This one was strangely and unfortunately lighter than the others and failed to stop him from doing damage. Luckily, Dean kept his balance and avoided the embarrassment of falling on his butt, but the box fell to the ground.

“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled as he hurried to pick it up. As he took it, he noticed that it was not closed properly. It was definitely not his plan to go through Y/n's personal belongings, but when he opened the box to close it better, he couldn't help but see what was inside.

And it wasn't his fault. The first item on top was a box that displayed the inscription of its contents, and his curiosity, well… took care of the rest.

“What the…” taking the item in question, Dean examined it. His hunter's eye detected every detail, inscriptions, the wear on the cardboard and even the place where the packaging had once been sealed before opening. The sticky paper seemed to have been removed so quickly, the color of the cardboard remained stuck on it. It was exactly as if its owner, eager to have the object, hadn’t been concerned by the breakage of its packaging.

SO. It was still possible that the contents were not what was written in black and white on the packaging. It was still a possibility. Dean understood, it was his duty to get to the bottom of it once and for all. Otherwise, the question would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Heart racing for no good reason, Dean placed his fingers where the paper was torn off and pulled the tab. Then, breathless, he opened the box and peered inside.

“Son of a bitch,” his mouth breathed along with the last of his oxygen. No... he couldn't believe it. As if he needed further proof that his eyes had already given him, Dean reached into the box and pulled out the object.

It was still in its bag, but an opening proved its frequent use. Both soft and very hard, it was of regular size and of a pretty pink shade. Dean didn't need to take it out of the bag to know that underneath was the little hole to get charged, the wire still in the box.

In his hand, Dean held the thing he never thought he would hold… Let alone find among his girlfriend's stuff. The sweet, pure, shy Y/n.

Scared that she would come back and see him like this, Dean quickly put the pink dildo vibrator back in its box. A thousand questions swirled through his mind and his heart still hadn't stopped pounding in his ribcage. In his eagerness and nervousness, Dean almost dropped the box, so he had to pull himself together to put it back exactly where he had found it.

And that was when he saw them.

There were plenty of them. A dozen even. Some had their original packaging, others had boxes without inscription. Curiosity rose in Dean who forgot the presence of his girlfriend and owner of these toys in the bunker. It was like suddenly he was alone in the world as he began to pull out everything he had in front of his eyes, his pupils dilating with each new discovery.

Small portable vibrator. One that looked like a butterfly, insertable and vibrant. A… dolphin? A flesh-colored dildo, including ball and base with suction. A magic staff. Purple, pink, black, the colors were added one after the other. And then suddenly...

Dean came across the largest box.

It was curiously and surprisingly big for what was inside. Dean couldn't help it. It was heavy, there was no doubt about the contents, but he had to see it with his eyes, hold it in his hands, and absorb reality.

It couldn't be that big... right?

And oh my god.

“Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home…”

Examining it from every angle, he still couldn't understand. The words “bad dragon” were forever imprinted in his brain along with the image of that purple and blue hued dildo. It was imposing, as tall as it was wide, and the different textures were strange but pleasant to the touch. And inevitably, his brain went in that perverse direction he imagined...

Her moans filled the room and the echo was carried throughout the whole bunker. Sounds of pleasure? No. Of frustration. She moaned as she tried as best she could to get the dildo into her entrance, which was still too tight for such a monster. But her determination only grew with her goal, and the idea alone of being able to have all those inches inside her was so exciting that she almost didn't need any lube.

“Oh fuck,” breathed through her lips as the head of the toy finally pierced the breach. Her head tilting back, she wiggled on the dildo to widen her entrance to accommodate the rest. Kneeling over the toy made it easier for her to maneuver her body and part her lips for guidance. And when finally the dildo was inside her, a long sigh of relief mixed with the pleasure of having succeeded hissed between her lips.

“I love the view…”

Dean hadn't missed a single thing. Standing in the doorway, he watched, admired, and nourished himself with the magnificent view before him. Kneeling on the bed facing him, she knew he was there. Even though her eyes were closed, she felt his presence, heard his heavy breathing. And then there was the rustling of his clothes every time he adjusted his position or reached for his swollen crotch.

It was one of the hottest things she had ever experienced. The desire was so strong it was palpable. The smell of sex filled the room. A moan passed her lips as she opened her eyes to look at him, her breath leaving her lungs, making the air almost unbreathable because it was so saturated.

"Oh. No."

The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground brought him back to consciousness. Then it took him several seconds to realize the voice that had spoken just before the impact, what it had said and who it belonged to. Turning towards the door, Dean's eyes were wide open, the green almost disappearing from his irises because his pupils were so dilated.

Her face was not in any better condition. As her eyes, wide with fear and shame, moved between what he was holding and the box behind him and finally settling on him, Dean could see the embarrassment quickly filling her being.

“What is this?”

Still shocked by his discovery and what it implied, these words were the first and only ones that had managed to escape his lips. Obviously, he knew what it was, and what it was for. However, he needed to hear it from her mouth. To confirm what his eyes had already understood.

His question only made her more uncomfortable.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” she muttered under her breath, lowering her head and crossing the distance between them to grab the dildo and remove it from the hunter’s hands. All this to hide the evidence that had already been consumed, unfortunately. “Please, forget about it,” she pleaded, still refusing to meet his gaze. Her hand resting next to Dean's on the dildo, she tried to take it back, but was surprised to see that he didn't want to let it go. “Dean?”

“It’s impossible,” his voice was low, almost a breath lost in the tension of the air. “Unfortunately… I’m turned on by that. And here I thought you were all pure and shy…” Taking a pause in his words only made the state Y/n was in worse. Next to Dean, she felt his breath against her cheek, and the heat of his body. It was heavy, his chest moving in time with his harsh breathing. As if he had to do everything to hold back. “I waited for you to be ready, and I'll still wait but… Y/n…” As she still refused to raise her head and meet his gaze, Dean took his other hand, the one that wasn't holding the dildo, to gently lift Y/n’s chin. “Thinking about you touching yourself with that… oh fuck, it’s hot, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” A shy smile appeared on her lips, her eyes watering at how she was embarrassed but still... Very excited by this idea.

“Oh yeah,” Dean swallowed, his green eyes darting from Y/n's lips to her eyes, then back to her lips. Like two magnets held too far apart, but at the same time too close, it was inevitable.

Dean pressed his mouth to Y/n’s, kissing her forcefully. The dildo was quickly put aside, both needing their hands to touch the other. Dean placed his on Y/n's waist, and her around his neck. Her nails scratched the soft part of his neck, leaving red marks he would never see. It was intense, they almost devoured each other with an insatiable appetite. Opening her lips, Y/n stuck her tongue out barely, just enough to give access to Dean who was quick to push his tongue into her mouth. The kiss became languorous, messy, even, and Y/n backed into a box and almost fell. Dean broke the kiss to ask if she was okay, but she silenced him by replacing her lips on his to continue the kiss.

Their mouths didn't leave each other as clothes flew around the room, some getting stuck on boxes while others fell to the floor. Eventually, they managed to maneuver through the mountains of boxes to get to the bed. Y/n plopped down on the mattress and laughed against Dean’s mouth which only took a second to find its way back to hers. Now both were shirtless and their hands explored each other without stopping.

Finally, Y/n broke the kiss to speak.

“I want you to watch me.”

“What?” Dean was panting, his erection so painful in his pants he was afraid it would explode at the slightest touch. Like a hungry lion demanding its prey, he tried to grab Y/n's lips but she refused him access by placing her fingers between them.

“I want you to watch me use the toy…” If she was an angel a few moments ago, the Y/n he had, lying under him on the bed, half naked, was a little devil hidden under the appearance of a Saint.

Just the thought of seeing her in real life masturbating with the monster he had found made Dean gulp and push himself up so he was on his knees. His face was so red, he had trouble understanding how there could still be blood in his length.

“Are you sure? I mean, I… I can’t say no to that, fuck, but… I don’t want you to feel forced or…”

“Dean,” she interrupted, a smile tugging at her lips. “I really want to. And I know you want it too.” Y/n took a deep, slightly shaky breath before continuing. “So… Bring me the one you want me to use… And get comfortable.”

Dean swallowed and looked at his girlfriend's face. Since he had known her, they had never been this far in their intimacy. And he would never have imagined that she had this in her. Obviously he was surprised, but it was a very pleasant surprise. Like an excited child on Christmas morning, Dean rushed to the box of adult toys and once again admired all the choices presented to him. Each of them infused an image, each more erotic than the other, into his mind. For a moment, he hesitated to take the monster he had found shortly before, but decided that for now, this view was better in his mind. And he didn't want to embarrass Y/n even more than she was, what she was proposing was very intimate, very sexy, but also terribly hard to do. To open up like this, to show yourself like this...

Dean returned to his girlfriend, a box in hand. “This one,” he held out the box, knowing full well what it contained. Y/n took it, hesitated for a few seconds while staring at it in her hands. Just as Dean was about to repeat that she didn't have to, that they could continue to just makeout and that was okay, she opened the box and took out the toy.

It was a simple one. No vibration, just a flesh colored dildo with suction at the bottom. It wasn’t the biggest she owned, but it was still big, almost as big as Dean’s cock. So to see her use this, he could easily picture him in her…

Just the thought sent another wave of arousal down his pants.

“Do you need a moment, or lube or…” Dean was still standing up near the bed as she was on her knees on the mattress. For the first time, he was clueless and didn't know what to do. And yet, it was not his first time, nor the last, that he had more kinky moments with his partner. But Y/n was different, she wasn't just his sexual partner, but the woman he loved. And the prospect of getting even closer and more intimate was worth more than any sex he could have.

“I want you to watch the whole thing,” Y/n replied, lifting her ass off the mattress just enough to undo her pants and pull them down along with her panties with just one hand. In an almost expert manner, she finished undressing herself with one hand, her other never letting go of the toy. “You can sit down, you know,” she laughed when she saw Dean still standing where he was, stiff as a stick.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he sat on the edge of the bed and turned his body towards her. It was like he was back at 15 with the most popular girl in school, ready for his first time. Nervousness filled his entire being, along with excitement, and if he wasn't so experienced years later, his erection would have disappeared or he would have come prematurely in his pants.

Dean silently thanked all the girls he had in the past that strengthened his stamina.

“How do you want me to use it?”

Dean could see how nervous she was. It was the first time she was completely naked in front of him, and her body was shaking ever so slightly, shivers that covered her soft skin in goosebumps. But yet, through that nervousness, she was freaking sexy. Still kneeling, she was slowly stroking her intimacy with the toy, coating it with her wetness. And without asking, Dean knew she wouldn’t need any lube.

“Just… Like this, you can ride it…” The words got out of his mouth by automatism. Truth was, Dean was half there now, so excited and focused on her, a part of his mind was shut down. It was so hot, he couldn’t detach his eyes from her body, the way the toy rubbed through her lower lips, how her hips rocked back on it, and her face, so soft, so cute, so embarrassed… With eyes burning in a strong passion.

“Okay,” she whispered. Time seemed to slow down. Dean could feel his heart beating in his head and in his crotch, the intensity growing with each movement she made. Straightening up, she placed the dildo behind her, careful to align it with her entrance, and opened up her legs to let Dean continue watching.

And he could see it all.

It was better than everything he could ever imagine.

The toy was big, but she was probably very wet and very used to it, because it didn’t take long for her to lower down on it. Inch by inch, the dildo disappeared into her entrance until it was almost completely gone. Her body was bent back, her chest glistening with sweat and the cutest moan left her lips.

“Fuck,” Dean groaned. It was too much, so he rushed to open his pants, just enough to free his aching cock. The simple touch sent thousands of electrical shocks of pleasure through his body, but still, his eyes were fixed on her. “You’re so hot, I don’t think I’ll last long,” he held the base of his cock stronger to avoid his climax.

“I don’t think I’ll last long either,” she whimpered. She had started moving already, slowly, up and down on the toy. Since she was on the bed, the succion was useless and she had to hold it with one hand. Dean could see how wet she was on the dildo, and imagined how warm it had to be inside.

Another groan whistled through his teeth.

“Hmmm,” she moaned, picking up speed. “It feels so good… Dean… Look at me…”

He didn’t notice, but his gaze was so focused on the toy and her pussy, he didn’t even look at her face. Blinking hard, he looked up, and when he saw her face, twisted in pleasure, he couldn’t help it.

His hand started moving on his cock at the same rhythm as her.

“Can’t wait to be inside of you,” Dean muttered through his rashing breath. “Must feel so warm in there, and you’re so wet, fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me.”

As an answer, she moaned and closed her eyes for a second. But quickly, she set her gaze on him again, even if it had to be the most embarrassing thing she ever did. She wanted to watch him watch her, watch him stroke his cock, watch him cum with her. “Soon… I promise, soon, you’ll have me, you’ll fuck me as much as you want, whenever you want… I'm ah... All yours, Dean..."

"Y/n." Dean could only say that. Again and again, moaning her name as she continued moving on the toy. "Y/n..."

"Dean, I’m gonna cum, oh my god, I’m…”

It was stronger than her. Never before did she come with only a dildo in her, it always took her hands or a vibrator on her clit to reach the end. But right now, in front of her boyfriend masturbating with her, it was too much. It felt so good.

In an explosion of pleasure, her orgasm ripped through her in a scream. She closed her eyes, her body shaking, her wetness flooding under her and on her bed. But she so didn’t care about this right now.

It took a few moments for her to regain her hearing back, and a few more moments to open her eyes. It was strong, and she suddenly felt so tired, like the world came crashing back on her. Feeling like she could sleep for a whole day without waking up.

Y/n landed her eyes on the man in front of her. Dean had his head bent back, eyes closed, mouth parted. Lower, his cock was still a bit hard, and his release was covering his hand.

“Oh,” she said sadly, realizing she didn’t see him cum. At least, they came together.

“Oh,” Dean repeated, finally opening his eyes to land them on her. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen and done,” he admitted, a silly smile filling up his face. So he was too, drunk on pleasure.

“Yeah,” she admitted, feeling her face flush with embarrassment. Wow. They did it. They actually did it. Her joy, thought, left her face quickly as she realized something. “Fuck.”

“What is it?” Dean immediately went on protective boyfriend mode when he heard the change in her voice.

“I think I…” Y/n’s voice was small, so small and shy as she lifted herself from the spot she was in, removing carefully the dildo from her, and looked at the mess she made. “It never happened before, but now my bed… I don’t think I can use it anymore… Oh no…”

“Sweetheart,” Dean rushed to her side, quickly putting himself back in his pants even if he was messy with his release as well. “It’s alright. There’s plenty of other room in the bunker, with other beds.”

“But,” she stammered, her gaze looking down at her hands. “What if I want to… Use your bed, with you?”

Y/n ended up looking up at him, their gaze meeting.

A soft kiss on her lips answered her question, and all of her insecurities washed away.

“My bed is yours, sweetheart. We can always use this room for your books, I’ll ask Sam to help building shelves and-”

Another kiss, this time, more powerful, interrupted his sentence. “God, I love you so much.”

Babum.

The words he never said back before.

Dean thought they would be hard to say. Impossible, even. But he surprised himself with how easy it actually was.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa @wickedinspirations@fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore

Supernatural Tag List: @peachyaliien @sexyvixen7 @stixnstripesworld @charred-angelwings @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @lyarr24 @fiftyshadesgrl @this-is-me19

Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278 @kazsrm67 @wtrpxrks @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies @charred-angelwings @jensendreamland @deanswaywardgirl @happyt0exist @waynes-multiverse @djs8891 @mimaria420 @this-is-me1 @syrma-sensei

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princessmisery666 · 2 months

Text

Just Don't Say You Love Me

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

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, miscommunication, unrequited love, friends with benefits, implied smut, Dean doesn’t get a happy ending.

W/C: 4,776.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Jody Mills, Sam Winchester.

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

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: Just Please Don’t Say You Love Me by Gabrielle Alpin.

A/N: I tried to fix the angst, but it’s not happening, so the unhappy ending will remain (for now). Special shoutout to @kazsrm67 and @pink-sparkly-witch for helping and offering words/comments of encouragement.

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

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

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

You knock on Jody’s door, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, some residual adrenaline still playing havoc with your nerves. It’s been a long and insightful day.

Dean opens the door with a smile, but it quickly morphs into an appreciative grin as his eyes travel the length of your body. “Wow,” he says, “who knew all that was hiding under that uniform.”

You laugh, stepping through the door, not in the least bit phased by his comment. It's not the first time you’ve been told that. “Yeah, that uniform is like an invisibility cloak. I put it on, and no man sees me. Guess you're no exception,” you explain, turning to look at him again.

“Well, I see you now,” he says, quickly lifting his focus from your ass to your face. “Um, they’re through there,” he gestures for you to go ahead of him.

“There she is,” Jody says, embracing you with one arm while she places the huge bowl of salad on the table. “How’re you doing?”

“Guess I’m still a little shell-shocked, but I’m okay.”

“Well, we’re all here to help you…adjust,” Sam offers with a kind smile.

Discovering monsters are, in fact, very real and not just a Halloween marketing ploy is definitely going to be an adjustment. But what choice do you have? These people have given you an in. They’ve let you into their secret club, and honestly, you feel privileged that they trust you and think you are capable enough to help.

If you weren’t capable, neither Jody nor Dean would be here right now, a fact Sam keeps thanking you for over dinner.

“Thank you for being so cool about this,” he says again, lifting his beer bottle to clink it against yours.

“I’ll freak out later,” you joke, though you probably will.

“Seriously, you rushed in there, no hesitation, and you held your own,” Jody adds to Sam’s praise. “You certainly proved I picked the right woman for my team.”

“And I can’t thank you enough for that,” you say, genuinely grateful for the opportunity to work with her.

You’ve had some awful bosses and equally shitty jobs over the years, so it's nice to have found Sheriff Mills. Okay, so you’ll be fighting real-life monsters occasionally, but what’s a little compromise?

They answer all your questions, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little overwhelming. Dean keeps flashing a tight smile in your direction, and you’re not sure if it's meant to be reassuring or if he’s biting his tongue and trying not to be rude. Regardless of his intention, Jody and the boys’ promises to help you come to grips with it all make it seem manageable.

“Am I going to get to hear the story of how you met those two?” you ask Jody in the kitchen later.

“Definitely, but not tonight,” she explains, handing you a clean, soapy plate to rinse and dry.

Dean and Sam laugh in the other room, and Jody smiles wistfully. It’s so sweet and motherly it chokes you up a little.

“The years have not been kind to those boys,” she says, focusing back on the dishes. “They keep their circle small, and I’m grateful that they let me be a part of it, and now you get to join it, too.”

“It’s a damn good-looking circle,” you confess.

Jody chuckles, “Ah, so you noticed Dean as much as he noticed you.”

“Don’t go all matchmaker on me again,” you warn, “do I need to remind you of the disaster that was Paul?”

“No, you do not. I’m just making an observation. The circle is indeed good-looking, and Dean has been doing a lot of observing of his own.”

“Yeah, not sure that’s for the reasons you’re implying,” you say, “Dean doesn’t seem like he wants me to be helping out.”

Dean’s voice startles you, “You saved our asses.” You jump, twisting to look at him, “that’s enough.”

“But if I can do more…”

“The life of a hunter isn’t a life I'd recommend,” he explains, reaching for a beer from the fridge, “ it’s messy and painful and usually ends badly.”

“That’s life in general,” you counter, “and if something is happening and I don’t do anything to help, I’m part of the problem.”

“That’s fine,” he says, throwing his bottle top into the trash. “You’re a bigger part of the problem if you get into a situation you can’t get out of.”

“Dean,” Jody scolds, “take it easy. You said it yourself, she saved our asses today. She’s proven she’s capable.”

“All I’m saying is I’ll help where and if I can,” you explain. “I’m not going to go all Buffy the Vampire Slayer and start patrolling graveyards.”

It’s faint, but a slight quirk tugs his lips, breaking the building tension.

“Besides, I’m sure our uniform makes us invisible to monsters as well as men.”

He laughs properly at that, “Not invisible to me anymore,” his tongue sits behind his teeth, and you're suddenly jealous when he wraps his lips around the bottle.

“Good to know,” you say.

You hold each other’s gaze, perhaps a challenge to see who will shy away first.

“Cool it, you two,” Jody warns, flicking water off the tips of her fingers at you both.

“Sorry, boss,” you laugh. “And on that note, I’m gonna get going.”

“Need a ride?” Dean asks, a smug smirk in play.

“I would love one,” you wink, but follow up with, “but it’s a nice night. Think I’m gonna walk, work off some of that wine.”

“Why don’t you walk her home?” Jody suggests.

Dean nods, “lead the way.”

When you’d balked, telling Dean you didn’t need an escort, he’d countered, saying he needed the fresh air, but you think it’s more to check up on you and maybe flirt a little more without an audience if your instincts are correct. It’s been nothing but small talk since leaving Jody’s until you're standing on your porch facing one another.

“So how are you really taking all this?” he asks.

“I had a little freak out before I got to Jody’s,” you answer honestly, “but truthfully, it makes me feel a little better about the world.”

He huffs a laugh, and his confused frown is adorable. “Okay, that’s a first.”

“There’s so much evil in the world. It’s scary enough without knowing what I know now,” you explain, adding, “Maybe some of the unexplainable evil that’s all over the news is explainable. Maybe it’s not humans being horrible. Maybe it’s actually something evil.”

“Huh, I never thought of it like that.”

“I’m not saying I’ll remember that the next time a vamp is kicking my ass,” you laugh.

“Hey,” he scolds, “you agreed, no hunting.”

You hold your hands up, surrendering. “I won’t go looking for it, but if it comes to Sioux Falls, I’m all over it,” you promise, but your body has other ideas as an overall ache spreads through you as the day's events catch up with you. “Well, maybe in a few days when I’ve recovered from the last one.” Subconsciously, your tongue rolls over the cut on your bottom lip.

“That hurt?” he asks.

“I’ve had worse.” You shrug. The way he’s looking at you dulls the sting of the cut, and the tired ache in your bones shifts and reshapes into a simmering itch that needs scratching.

“You gonna be okay?” he asks, pointing over your shoulder toward your door. The implication of you being alone goes unsaid.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, trying not to roll your eyes. “But maybe you want to come in? Have a coffee or something, distract me a little longer so I don’t freak out too much?”

He smiles, wetting his lips. He knows that’s not what you're asking, and you wonder how often the offer of ‘coffee or something’ has been used successfully on him. He looks down at his shuffling feet, heaving a sigh. “I should get back.”

The hesitation is clear, yet he doesn’t move. A surge of adrenaline spreads through you, and your heart rate increases. When he looks up, catching your eyes, the intensity of the long, loaded pause is enough to make you wonder, if monsters exist, then maybe that electricity everyone talks about is real, too, because it feels like if you touch your hand to Dean’s face, sparks will fly.

“Thanks again for the save today,” he whispers.

“Anytime,” you smile.

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly you're as one, mouths connected, exploring the other’s, hands groping and gripping, and your lip stings for a split second, but then Dean has you pinned against your door, and you forget about it.

He pulls away and kisses your neck, “Maybe,” he says, scraping his teeth against your jaw, “we should take this inside.”

Your arrangement with Dean works. No pressure, no expectations. Summer comes, and winter fades, but your relationship remains mutually beneficial.

He rolls through Sioux Falls, that charming smile - that you’re not sure he knows quite how charming it is - “passing through,” but he stays a few days. He always claims it’s to catch up with Jody and the girls, but he spends most of his time at your place, and it’s too coincidental that you’re never on shift or scheduled for a few days when Baby pulls up outside.

Jody insists she has nothing to do with it. Yes, she's the sheriff, yes, she’s your boss, and makes the rotas, but “The only thing I swing is that I get to work with you,” she’d promised, winking. And you love her for that. Some of the men are still stuck in the past, and though they don’t say it, you can tell they don’t think women can do the job.

If only they knew. You’ve helped on a few hunts now. There’s no doubt in your mind that your relationship with Dean wouldn’t be what it is if you didn’t know about the real evils of the world. But each hunt ended the same: a dead monster and your body beneath Dean’s.

You're in your room lacing up your little white summer pumps when the Impala’s engine announces his arrival.

You jump to your feet, quickly check yourself in your mirror, smoothing down the already smooth summer dress, and call out, “It’s open,” when his knock echoes around the house.

“Wow, look at you,” he says, freezing partway over the threshold to admire you as you bounce down the stairs.

You deliver your usual greeting, a swift kiss to his lips, and the unmistakable aroma of leather and cheap motel soap assaults your senses - damn, you’ve missed him - but you won’t say it. Instead, you show it, making the kiss deeper.

He shuffles inside, uses your hips to steady himself as he kicks the door closed, and then wraps his arms around your waist to hold you tightly against him.

Your phone rings, and you fumble to find it on the table by the door, but as soon as you do, Dean releases you, kissing your neck and collarbone.

“Hey, hi,” you answer.

“Hey babe,” your best friend sings, and you know it's because she needs something. “Can you grab some ice on your way over?”

“Yeah, sure, okay.”

“You okay?”

No. Yes.

Dean is kneading your breasts, nibbling on the skin that spills out the top of your sundress. “Yeah, just rushing, I’m running late.”

“So late,” he mumbles into your skin.

“Well, hurry more,” she says before hanging up.

“Oh fuck, Dean, you gotta stop,” you whine.

He groans, dulling the sting of his bite with a sweet kiss, and pulls back to look at you. “This a bad time, isn’t it?”

You nod, feeling as disappointed as he looks. “It’s my friend's birthday. She’s having a barbeque.”

He sighs, leaning his head on your shoulder and mumbling into your neck. “Damn it.”

“I have to at least show my face,” you say, using your hands on his cheeks to pull his head up to look into his eyes. “But you can stay here, take a shower, watch a movie or something, and maybe in a couple of hours, I get a headache and need to come home.”

Wetting his lips, he smirks before delivering a brief kiss. “Or,” he draws out the syllable, mild hesitation clear in his eyes, “Maybe I can come with you?”

Since Chuck is no longer an issue, Dean has been making an effort to live in the moment, opening himself up, if only a little. So you try to quell the shock of his suggestion. It quickly evolves to a pleased grin when your mind flashes to your friends' faces when you walk in with the infamous Dean. They will lose their shit. You like spending time with Dean but don’t want to cross any lines or make assumptions. “I’d like that,” you smile, “but you really don’t have to.”

“I’m sure I can survive a couple hours with your friends, and you know I can always eat.”

“Okay,” you nod, smile widening. “If you’re sure.”

He kisses you again, a simple but effective peck on your lips. “But maybe we both get a headache in a couple of hours.”

“Deal,” you agree, sealing it with another casual kiss. “Maybe lose a few layers. It’s summer.”

He laughs, shrugging off his jacket. “I’m sure I have a clean Fed shirt in the trunk.”

“Perfect,” you say, grabbing your bag and keys. “Want me to drive?”

He rolls his eyes, jesting, “Did that kiss fry your brain?” as he follows you out the front door.

He opens the passenger door for you, and before you slip inside, you tell him, “Oh, and whatever my friends say I’ve said about you, it’s all lies.”

He grins smugly, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

The shower has done wonders for your developing hangover. Your friend's barbecue lasted longer than you had anticipated, but the day couldn’t have gone better.

Dean fit in well with everyone and crushed it at beer pong. It was a success all around, and when you’d quietly asked if he wanted to leave, he’d said no, that he was having too much fun.

The fun continued when you got home, and Dean is undoubtedly still feeling the effects as well. It’s almost midday, and he’s still sound asleep in your bed when you enter your bedroom in clean sweats and your bra while you towel dry your hair.

Dean is lying on his stomach, with his face smushed adorably against the pillow he’s hugging, taking advantage of all the space now that you’ve vacated.

You crawl across the bed, leaning over him, and he still doesn’t stir. You put your lips close to his ear and half whisper, “Morning.”

His brow instantly creases, and he squeezes his eyes tighter, groaning, “No, no, you have to go away.”

“You gotta get up. It’s almost midday.”

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles, eyes still squeezed shut. “You have to take your horrible talking, talky mouth away from me.”

“Okay, you asked for it.” You laugh, sitting back and wringing your hair out so the excess water drips on his naked back.

“Ah,” he groans, arching up off the mattress.

You jump off the bed, laughing as you walk to the mirror to start doing your hair. Turning over, he rubs a hand over his face and then both through his hair, causing it to stick up adorably. He catches you staring in the mirror, and you quickly avert your eyes.

“Damn, your friends can drink,” he says, sitting up against the headboard.

You laugh, that’s an understatement. “They definitely know how to have fun.”

“They seem like a good bunch.”

“They liked you too,” you smile at his reflection, and he grins back. “Laura told me to invite you to her and Chris’ wedding.”

His expression shifts, staring off into the distance for a singular moment as if he’s imagining how that would play out. But as quickly as it appears, it drops when he scrubs a hand down his face to put the mask back on. “That’s cool, but I can’t make that kind of commitment.” He swings his legs off the bed, putting his back to you. “I don’t know where I’ll be.”

You hadn’t expected a solid answer, but the double meaning behind his words settles thick disappointment in your stomach. You’ve never asked for any commitment nor discussed the arrangement between you, but hearing him say it aloud singes the hope you always try to contain.

Dean quickly gets to his feet, swaying at the abruptness. “I’m gonna grab a shower.” He mumbles, avoiding eye contact as he heads to the bathroom.

It’s been less than ten minutes, and you’re sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through your phone, when he finds the courage to face you again. He’s talking to Sam on his phone, obnoxiously loud, as he descends the stairs, trying to make a point of his hasty need to depart.

He appears in the kitchen doorway, jacket in hand, hair dripping onto the shoulders of his henley. You guess you should be grateful he wasn’t cowardly enough to have just shouted goodbye from the door.

“Listen, I’m sorry about before.” He moves closer to the table, eyeing you as he raps his knuckles on the polished wood. “It’s just that, even with Chuck out of the picture, I’m not sure how things are going to play out. I can’t make any, uh, long-term commitments. Sam and-“

“I get it, Dean.” The last thing you want is any tension between you, so you nip the growing uncomfortableness. “We don’t need to have any awkward conversations.”

He bobs his head, hope swimming in his eyes. “So, we’re good?”

You take your mug to the sink, and once your back is to him, you say, “Yeah, we’re good.”

“You sure?” You didn’t hear him move, but the air shifts behind you, bringing his warmth along with it.

Plastering on a smile, you turn to face him and nod. “Take care of yourself.”

The corner of his mouth curls upward, and he kisses your forehead before heading to the door, “Talk to you soon,” he calls before the door clicks shut.

Fools rush in. Dean is no fool. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel like being one sometimes. Usually, it’s when he’s on the road, heading home from a hunt or supply run, he daydreams about how things could be with you.

The daydream isn’t much different from how things already are. The sex would just be coupled with more official dates – dinner, movies, watching him, which for some reason turns you on, ‘do his thing’ as you call it when he’s hustling suckers at pool. Hell, even grocery shopping. He’d sneak unhealthy snacks into the cart because you promised Sam you’d take care of him, and you would. Dean knows you’d be good to him, that you are good for him. But he’s lived that life. He doesn’t need a wake-up call to know how it ends.

It’s a nice daydream. It gives him a much-needed boost of serotonin when he’s in short supply. But like the gas that fuels Baby, the thought has vaporized by the time he shuts off the engine.

Chuck isn’t calling the shots anymore, but that doesn’t mean the big bads aren’t still gunning for the Winchester's demise. Sam has it all figured out with Eileen, and Dean wishes he could be as sure about what he wants life to look like now. But he can’t be sure of anything, at least not yet. He’s still working on adjusting to a life not consumed by hunting. Trying to come to terms with the fact that there isn’t something lurking around every corner, that the choices he makes – good and bad – are truly his and not fueled by some life-ending curveball Chuck tosses at them.

The doubts bore deeper, and as always, when he’s drowning in his own head, he thinks of you.

He remembers how you busted down the door with borrowed equipment from Sioux Falls. You’d looked frantic but still in control. Your mere presence had calmed him, and not because you were there to rescue him. You didn’t waste a breath with a witty comment like he would have. You let off two shots, dropped the ghoul about to take a chunk out of him, and then untied him.

You’d been cool and calm, checked him for injuries, but didn’t believe he was truly okay till he kissed you breathless. That adrenaline-filled, kiss-swollen lips, slightly frantic edge to your eyes, is the picture he conjures whenever he thinks of you.

It’s been a while since he’s seen you. You’ve exchanged a few calls, but now that his mind is stuck on that picture of you, he has to see you.

He shoots Sam a text, telling him he’ll be in Sioux Falls if Sam needs anything, and then pulls an illegal u-turn to put himself in your direction.

Dean’s not phased that you aren’t home when he shows up. It’s not like he called ahead. He never does. But now that he’s here, he doesn’t want to waste time tracking you down, so he calls.

“Hey,” you greet brightly.

The smile in your voice brings out his. “Hey, yourself. I’m at your door.”

“Shit, sorry, I’m not there.”

He chuckles, “Are you around, or does my timing suck again?”

“No, no, it’s kinda perfect, actually,” you say. “I was gonna call you later anyway. But I need a half hour or so.”

“I can wait.”

“Greasy Sal’s?” you offer.

He smiles, already salivating at the thought of a Greasy Sal’s cheeseburger. “Throw in some curly fries,” he requests.

“Okay, got it,” You laugh.

Dean sits on the Impala’s hood while he waits, head tilted toward the sun, eyes closed while he catches the day’s last rays. The sound of your car’s engine isn’t as distinct as Baby’s, but he knows it well enough that as soon as he hears it, he opens his eyes and watches you turn onto the street. It’s not until that moment that he realizes how eager he is to see you. Maybe Greasy Sal’s can wait; he has another hunger he needs to sate.

He waits till you shut off the engine to open your door, “such a gentleman,” you quip, taking his offered hand to step onto the sidewalk. “Or are you clambering for food?”

“Not what I’m hungry for,” he says, guiding you against your car. He presses himself against you, feeling the coolness of the air conditioning on your clothes. He circles the tip of your nose with his own, whispering, “Hey,” against your lips before claiming them as his own.

Frustratingly, you push a hand into his chest after the first brush of his tongue, and he pulls back to look at you. You're looking up at him from under hooded eyes, and he feels like his heart skips a beat, or maybe he’s just a little out of breath. But he knows that with you gazing up at him like he’s a beautiful sunset, he really has missed you.

“Maybe we should take this inside.”

“Absolutely,” he says, slightly impatient that he can’t get you naked then and there.

He walks to the trunk to get your shopping bags and follows you up the path. He has a bag packed with his essentials but never brings it inside until the next morning. Something about bringing it in before you’ve had sex seems presumptuous, which is crazy because, as per the arrangement, that’s exactly what he’s here for.

“It’s good to see you,” you say, entering your kitchen with him close on your tail.

“Yeah, you too.” He genuinely means it. It’s like things fall into place when he’s around you.

“How’s Sam?”

“He’s good,” Dean explains, placing the grocery bags on the countertop. “He’s taken Eileen away for a couple days.”

“Good for them.”

You unpack the groceries and take a beer from the fridge; as always, it's his favorite brand. Though he never warns you of his pending arrival there is always a supply cooling in the refrigerator and his favorite snacks in the cupboards.

He takes the open bottle from you, leaning in to deliver another kiss, but you turn to grab more groceries, and he realizes it's a not-so-stealthy way to give him your cheek.

It seems to be the day of revelations because he’s super aware of how easily you flow around each other in the small kitchen. Dean plates up the burgers, grabbing another beer for you from the fridge, and he’s surprised to see that it’s the only one left. That, coupled with the kiss avoidance, gives him pause. Something’s wrong.

You sit at the table and take a large gulp of the beer. “You okay?” he asks once you’ve swallowed the beer and the nervousness you're exuding. “You seem a little…off.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, then inhale deeply before adding, “Actually, no, I’m not. We need to talk. And I hate how cliche that sounds, but I don’t know how else to bring it up, and I don’t want to get all emotional on you, but I need to tell you something.”

He feels the panic fizz in his gut. You can’t be pregnant. He's seen you take birth control, and he uses protection every time. So it can only be one thing …you're about to ruin everything.

You're going to utter those three words, and it's going to be the death blow to all the good stuff between you.

He takes a swig of his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Please don’t,” he begs, looking you dead square in the eyes. “What we’ve got going on is good, we’re good…”

“Dean, I …” you try, but he holds a hand up to cut you off.

“Don’t say it.” he pushes his chair back and rubs his hands on his thighs, palms suddenly sweaty. “I like what we have. It works, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look forward to it or that I don’t miss you. But I just got back a little peace of mind and…” he pauses, clearly searching for the right word, “caring about someone…” he shakes his head, reaching to wrap his hand around his beer bottle. “...Loving me, even with Chuck gone, it doesn’t make it any less of a death sentence. So please don’t say it.”

You reach across the table for his hand, clenched around his beer, but he’s quick to pull back. “Dean,” you choke out, the remorse you feel slipping from your eyes in a single tear. “I’ve met someone.”

He stares at you, mouth agape, not sure that he heard you correctly.

“It’s still new,” you continue, rushing to explain as your tears spill. “But it’s going somewhere. Somewhere great, and I don’t want to mess it up.”

Of course, you haven’t been sitting at home waiting for his sporadic visits. You’ve been out living your life as you should be. The possibility of meeting someone else, someone you could say those three words to, and it be a life sentence and not a death sentence, had occurred to him more than once. It poked at him like a swarming gnat, knowing you deserved to find someone better than him, but selfishly, he swatted at it until it went away.

He’s holding his breath and will get light-headed soon if he doesn’t find the ability to breathe again.

“Dean,” you coax, “say something.”

He feels as if you’d blindsided him, come out of the left field, and taken his legs out from under him. Now he’s on his back, the wind knocked out of him, and waiting for the feeling in his limbs to return.

Abruptly he stands. He sees the panic in your eyes and knows what’s coming. As you plead, “Don’t leave,” he says, “I gotta go.”

He strides quickly toward the door. You call his name as he goes, but he doesn’t stop.

He rushes out your front door, leaves it open, and as he reaches Baby, he has a singular moment of wondering what will hurt the least - holding on or letting go.

“Dean, please,” you call from the door.

He slides behind the wheel, deciding to let go.

Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.

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Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

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

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 months

Text

No Such Thing As Monsters

Summary: Dean is injured on a hunt and at first glance, appears to be fine. Quickly though, the reader and Sam learn something far more serious is going on...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,200ish

Warnings: language, injury

“Dean,” you said, shaking on his shoulder, his eyes flashing open, fist tightening around his angel blade. “You’re okay. Sam took care of the ghoul. How’re you doing?”

“I feel like I just went through a wall,” he said, shakily getting to his feet, cocking his head at the damaged sheetrock in front of him. “Looks like I did.”

“You sure you okay?” you asked, his head nodding. “Sam’s driving us home, just in case.”

“No arguments from me,” he said, giving Sam a nod when he showed up, following his brother the few blocks over to where you’d parked Baby. Dean grabbed the passenger door, slamming his hand on the roof.

“Dean...” said Sam. Dean scrunched up his face, placing a hand on his head. “Dean.”

“Take me to a hospital,” gritted out Dean, your eyes wide. “Now.”

“What’s wrong?” you said, shoving him in the backseat instead, climbing in beside him as Sam started gunning it for the closest one.

“My head. Something’s wrong. I don’t...just hurry.”

Eight Hours Later

Your excuse of Dean taking a hard fall worked with the doctors but you and Sam were staring at one another after finally getting to see Dean again.

“Let’s talk outside,” said the neurologist, Dean giving you a smile as you followed her out.

“What is wrong with my brother, Sally?” asked Sam the second the door to Dean’s room was shut.

“Retrograde amnesia as far as I can tell. He remembers certain things like his name, date of birth, address when he was a child. You’re lucky I was on call tonight to take his case. Neuro patients are hard enough, especially one’s that are hunters and have to lie about everything,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Sally, amnesia...isn’t that supposed to fade after a few hours at most?” asked Sam.

“Normally,” she said, taking a deep breath. “My best guess is a combination of lasting amnesia which will be hard to recover from but we can help him...and then he’s repressing all the hunting without realizing. You guys have seen some serious crap I’m sure he’d rather forget.”

“What do you mean repressing?” you asked.

“I mean, Dean thinks monsters are made up, creatures from stories. He doesn’t know they’re real,” she said. You raised an eyebrow, Sam shaking his head. “He doesn’t remember the ghoul, he doesn’t remember the Vamp you guys took care of for me years ago. Monsters aren’t real to him,” said Sally.

“He’s known monsters were real his whole life,” said Sam.

“Technically, since he was four, almost five,” said Sally. “There was a time when he didn’t think any of this was real so it is possible.”

“You’re telling me Dean thinks he’s five?” you said. “He’s in his thirties.”

“He doesn’t think he’s five. He just doesn’t remember certain things. Like he understands basic long term memories, who his parents are, who Sam is...more recent things he’s blocked out,” she said. “Either by choice or because he really can’t remember.”

“Does he remember me? I only started running with the guys about five years ago,” you said.

“He knows your name and that he loves you but that’s about it. The details are all fuzzy for him. Now Dean’s not exactly what I’d call a normal patient. He’ll get thrown in an institute if he starts remembering here in a hospital and God knows what’ll happen to him in there,” she said.

“What do we do then?” asked Sam, Sally sighing and grabbing a chart from the nurses station.

“He has no bleeding in his head, just a few minor cuts and bruises from his tussle. Take him home, try to get him to remember. Any problems and you guys call me. I’ll get you some materials that help sometimes,” she said.

“What if he doesn’t remember?” said Sam.

“Then he doesn’t. Either way, you need to be there for him. You guys gotta get going. The other neurologist starts his shift in an hour and he’s going to want to look at Dean if he’s still here.”

Dean was quiet on the way home, sitting in the backseat, leaning against the backdoor as he stared out the window. Sam simply went through the motions, making him dinner, sending him to bed after checking his bandages, Dean wearing a confused but happy smile the whole time.

“Y/N,” said Sam, catching you sipping on a drink the library, stealing the bottle to pour himself some.

“What are we going to do Sam?” you asked. “He’s...”

“Do you remember when I saved you from that fire? You promised you’d do anything I wanted. Anything. I told you maybe someday I’d take you up on it. We both know I was never going to but this...I’m cashing that favor in, Y/N,” he said, taking a long swig.

“Using a spell to get his memories back might be dangerous, Sam,” you said, earning a head shake.

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the fact that my big brother thinks the world is normal. The weight of it isn’t on his shoulders anymore. He’s so light and happy. You’re gonna pack up his stuff, pack up your stuff, and you’re going to take him to a little cabin that used to be Bobby’s. It’s not that far out in the boonies so you’ll have electricity and internet and then...you’re gonna help him get a job, get a job yourself and you two are going to get the hell out of this life,” he said.

“Sam that is not-”

“You’re doing this. If something comes after you, you can protect him. Try it for me. If he starts to remember on his own, come back but please, give it a try.”

Two Days Later

“I thought we lived at the bunker place?” asked Dean, sitting down at your new kitchen table, watching you whip up an easy dinner.

“We live here now,” you said, stirring the pot, taking a deep breath.

“What do we do now?” he asked with a smile. “Do I go to work?”

“We’ll find you a new job,” you said, Dean pursing his lips. “What is it Dean?”

“You’re not happy,” he said. “I want to fix it but I don’t remember how to do that.”

“We both have to get used to this new life,” you said, giving him a nod. “We will. I don’t want you to worry about me, Dean.”

“I love you though. Of course I worry about you,” he said with a smirk.

“You don’t even remember my birthday,” you said with a smile.

“I guess I get to learn everything I love about you all over again then,” he said. “I do know I love you. I definitely remember that.”

“I love you too Dean. Every version of you. We’ll get through this too.”

#spn #supernatural #dean x reader #one shot #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert

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kaleldobrev · 8 months

Text

Please Don't Leave

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean's lucky to have you in his life and honestly doesn't know what he would ever do without you

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Cursing (3x), Fluff, Vulnerable/Angry Dean

Authors Note: The gif makes me sad | This might seem a little non canon but at the same time I honestly feel like Dean would react this way (fight me if you want, but I said what I said) | I just love this man so fucking much | Dream/Flashbacks are in italics | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Dean didn’t have a lot of consistencies in his life, but you were one of them. Out of everyone he had known in his life, you were one of the only people that had remained with him through all the heartbreak, all of the death, all of the blood, sweat, and tears that this life had. You had been through it all with him: Sam going to Stanford and leaving him behind, his fathers death, him selling his soul, the year that Sam went to Hell, the year the two of you were in Purgatory, the few months he was a demon, his bloodlust fueled by the Mark, him being possessed by Michael. He had an endless list of things that the two of you had been through together, things that would cause any normal or rational person to throw in the towel; but not you. “You can’t get rid of me Dean Winchester, not even if you kill me yourself.” You had joked. And that was something that he had almost done – and on several occasions too. And yet, you never left him. “I guess I’m just stupid.” You said. “Or maybe the sex me and you have is just that good.”

The sex he had with you, now that was something. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced; and he has had quite a lot of sex during his lifetime (not that he bragged about it of course). When the two of you initially met, it was only supposed to be a working relationship, a friends with benefits sort of deal. But eventually it turned into more. He wasn’t sure where him or you had gotten your wires crossed but they did; and it turned into you and him always finding each other at the end of the night regardless of the different men and women that had hit on both of you at the bar you two were at.

The sex used to be quick, usually done in either a drunken haze or after a tough hunt. But it eventually turned into something that either one of you would initiate through soft touches: a kiss on the forehead, a simple hand hold, or cuddling into each other. Once, in the middle of sex, he wasn’t sure why he had said it but he did. He kind of just blurted it out. “I love you.” Now that was something he never thought he’d ever say during sex before. But here you were beneath him, staring up at him with those doe eyes of yours that you frequently had during sex and said, “I love you too.” It was something he didn’t expect.

Dean didn’t know what he could or would possibly do if you weren’t in his life; and that was something he didn’t want to think about. But it was something that has been an unavoidable thought as of late. Waking up to you was one of the worst but best things after a nightmare of losing you. He would wake up in a panic, his heart racing, sweating; afraid that you were gone for good this time. But without fail, every single time you would be right there next to him. Either sound asleep or awake enough to tell him, “It’s okay, I’m right here.” He would always reply the same way. “Just…please don’t leave.” It was a simple yet complicated sentence. “I’m not going to. I’d never leave you.” Those words that you always uttered back should have been comforting to him, but it was just an empty promise – even though he knows that’s how you never intended it to sound. In your heart you loved him deeply, and he knew that. He knew that you’d never leave him; the two of you have been through everything together. But when it came to this life, it was hard to make and keep promises like that.

“Dean, I just can’t do this anymore I’m sorry.” Your words had cut into him like a knife. Like he’d been shot hundreds of times. The torture he received from Hell combined with the loss of his mother was child’s play compared to what he was currently feeling. He just started blankly at the two duffel bags at your feet as you stood in the doorway of the room the two of you shared. Well, formally shared that is. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” You asked, your question snapping him out of whatever trance he was in.

“There’s nothing to say.” Of course there were hundreds, no thousands of things that he had wanted to say to you, but he knew that he couldn’t say any of it. As much as he wanted to beg for you to stay, he wasn’t going to make you stay. Once you made up your mind that was it; there was no convincing you.

You looked at him with a confused expression. “You don’t even want to know why I’m leaving?” You asked, and Dean simply shook his head. “Why not?”

“It doesn’t really matter.” He tried to keep his voice even, to make you believe that he was okay. But he could tell that you knew he wasn’t (you knew him long enough to know when he was or wasn’t okay).

“Dean.” You said, your voice sounding more heartbroken than his.

“It’s alright. You don’t…you don’t have to explain yourself.” He said, taking a seat on the bed you two once shared.

“I feel like you deserve an explanation. We were together for almost twenty years Dean.” You sat down next to him on the bed. He had just wanted to push you away or wrap you in his arms. Two completely differently reactions, but that’s the way he felt. “Dean.” You touched his shoulder and he flinched, you quickly removed your hand. “I love you, and I know you know that but –”

“Please just…stop talking. I really don’t want to hear what you have to say.” His voice was more hurt now, and he could feel himself trying not to say or do anything that he was going to regret. He wanted to cry, but he didn’t want you to have to see that, despite seeing him do it so many times before. “Just, leave if you’re going to leave.” You didn’t move, simply just staring at him. “Go!” He snapped, and that’s when you got up.

You walked over to your bags, slinging one over your shoulder and holding the other one in your hands. “Goodbye Dean.” You said, before walking out of the room. For a while he heard the sound of your boots down the hall, but they suddenly became faint, almost inaudible. The Bunker door opened and closed again. You were gone. Gone for good this time.

“You said you’d never fucking leave.” He whispered to himself. “Said you’d never fucking leave me.” He pounded the bed with his fist. “You fucking lied!” He got up from the bed and he felt himself start to lose control; no longer in control of the emotions that had been building up when he had started watching you pack up your bags.

Dean woke up abruptly, sitting up. He was panicked, his heart racing. His breaths were heavy, his chest moving up and down. He rubbed his face, trying to fully wake himself up. There was no way he would be getting back to sleep for a while; not after that nightmare. “Y/N -” he began to say as he looked over to his right side; your side of the bed. You were gone. “Sweetheart?” He asked, his hand reached out and touched the emptiness next to him: it was cold.

He looked up at the door to the bedroom which was slightly ajar. The only light in the room came seeping in from the hallway. He didn’t remember having the door open, the door was always shut whenever the two of you slept. Despite how safe the Bunker was, sleeping with the door closed added an extra layer of safety, not just for him, but for you as well.

A shadow appeared, blocking some of the light. He reached over and opened the drawer of his nightstand, slightly gripping his gun that he always kept there. Before he could fully wrap his hand around the weapon you squeaked inside the room and shut the door again quietly. A huge amount of relief washed over him in that moment as he let go of the gun and closed the drawer. “Dean?” You questioned, upon hearing the drawer close. “Baby are you okay?” You asked, walking to sit on his side of the bed. He looked at you as you placed a hand on his cheek. Your eyes full of worry.

“You were…” his eyes flickered to your side of the bed that had been empty when he woke up before looking back at you again. “You were gone. When I woke up you…”

“It’s okay. I’m here.” You reassured him, your voice calm.

“Where did you go?” He asked tiredly.

“The bathroom. I really, really needed to pee.” You said, Dean chuckled a little at your comment. “You know I wouldn’t willingly leave you right?” You reassured him again. You felt him nod in your hand.

“I know.” His voice sounding just a hint sad. “I uh, I feel stupid for freaking out.” The sentence was a whisper.

“There’s nothing to feel stupid about Dean.” Another reassurance. Dean had every right to react the way he did; he had lost so much, even before you had met him. You had been with him through everything. Witnessed so much loss and endured just as much. “Was it a nightmare?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It was the…the one where you break up with me.” You hated that one just as much as he did.

“I’m never going to break up with you. I love you too damn much.” You said, giving him a smile. You crawled into bed next to him getting underneath the covers. “Come here.” You held out your arms for him, and without hesitation he went into them. He wrapped his arms around your torso and rested his head on your chest; your arms wrapping around the back of his neck. Your fingers started playing with his hair, gently massaging his head.

The two of you sat there in silence, both of you with your eyes closed. You weren’t sleeping, but you were unsure if he was. Even if he wasn’t, his breathing was starting to get more even, he was starting to calm down. Hearing the sound of your heartbeat always calmed him down. “Y/N?” Dean asked.

“Yes my love?” You asked, opening your eyes.

He looked up at you briefly, tiredly. “I know I don’t tell you enough but…I’m really lucky to have you in my life. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.” He kissed your neck, as that was one of the only spots he could currently reach.

“I’m lucky to have you in my life too.” You responded, giving him a kiss on the top of his head.

“And Sweetheart?” He asked again.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Thank you…thank you for not leaving me.” His voice sounding a little pained. The sound of this sentence had broken your heart a bit. Leaving Dean was never an option for you, no matter what had happened between the two of you. Being with him wasn’t easy, but you couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. He was your person, the love of your life, your soulmate. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You kissed him on the top of the head again, and you could feel his smile.

That night, Dean didn’t have another nightmare, but he did dream. He had one of his favorite dreams; one that always gave him a sense of calmness and normalcy. The two of you would be just lying in bed together watching some random horror movie on tv. It was something that the two of you have done hundreds, no, thousands of times, so there would be no reason why it would be his so called favorite dream. What made it his favorite though was purely based on one small detail, a detail that made it known to him that it was in fact a dream: wedding rings would be on both of your fingers.

Someday maybe, he thought.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 If you'd like to be on a tag list, just message me!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #reader insert #female reader #Dean x you #dean x reader

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winchester-girl67 · 4 months

Text

Imagine... Dean Coming To You For Comfort

Summary: Dean looks for comfort after a nightmare. He enjoys being the little spoon.

Requested by anonymous: “could you write a fic where dean just needs some comfort from the reader? it could be platonic and dean just had a bad day or a nightmare and doesn't want to be alone and wants to be held without asking"

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 902

Warnings: language, nightmares, implied violence (hunting a vamp nest), brief mention of a gun reader keeps under the pillow, a little angst, emotional hurt/comfort, cuddling, fluff

A/N: Found this in my wips, it's a little short but sweet. Enjoy.

_____

“I said, I'm fucking fine, okay?!”

Dean's words echoed in your ears. You'd only asked him the once and he just snapped at you, so when you got back to the bunker you beelined for your room and slammed the door.

You didn't get food, you didn't shower off the motel shower from a few hours earlier like you usually would, and you didn't get any sleep either. ‘Monopoly’ speaking, you did not pass 'GO'. You just pouted in your bed.

The hunt could've gone better; it also could've gone worse.

You stared at the ceiling, still awake and wondering how to reproach Dean. He was clearly not fine but until he was able to admit that, there was no getting through to him. Dean was just too stubborn when he was in these moods and honestly you were a little, too. You wanted to help, but you didn't want to swallow your pride and walk down that hall just to have him yell at you again.

You weren't a masochist. But you still laid there, in bed, overthinking everything that went wrong with the hunt.

First of all, you should've brought Sam with you, or Cas. Dean said it would be simple enough though with the two of you. It wasn't and you almost got killed. Dean, of course, wasn't letting himself forget it. You could see that written all over his face on the ride home.

Stopping your mind from racing wasn't easy. You counted the dots on the ceiling tiles as you listened to the ticking of Dean's wristwatch on your arm. He'd synchronized it to the time on his cell and given it to you before the hunt so you could stay structured in your plan against the vamp nest.

It was smart, until it wasn't. There were more than you expected and you always jumped the gun and went in first. Standing still wasn't the easiest thing for you to do with all that adrenaline pumping in your veins. And you were used to hunting alone. Before the Winchesters came into the picture.

Needless to say, everything that went wrong after that was about ninety-percent your fault. The other ten was simply a miscalculation.

You'd known the Winchesters for quite some time but moving into the bunker with them was fairly new. In the back of your mind, you hoped Dean wouldn't ask you to move out. You kinda liked not being completely alone anymore. The world was tough and they felt like family already. It would break your heart for sure; shatter any trust you had left.

Your bedroom door creaked open slowly on its old hinges and a shadowed figure peaked its head inside your room. You held your breath for a moment and gripped the cool handle of your gun underneath your pillow.

Always on guard. Even if the bunker was the safest place you'd ever been.

"Easy, Y/N, it's just me." Dean said, pushing the door open the rest of the way so the light of the hall revealed his features.

His expression was soft, too soft -broken like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders and the nightmares to prove it. His hair was disheveled and he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.

"Just wanted to check on you, I'll let you get back to sleep. Sorry I woke you, sweetheart." Dean breathed deep and slowly started to shut your door. "And sorry I yelled."

"Wait," you sat up and placed the gun on the night table next to you before switching the light on low. "Come here. Close the door."

You flipped back the covers, shuffled over to make room and patted the mattress beside you. Dean wiped the frown from his face with his hand and did as you said. He shut the door and settled into bed next to you. Tense and unmoving once he rolled onto his side facing away from you.

He couldn't ask, but he didn't need to.

You clicked off the light and tugged up the covers to his chin. Your palm rubbed over his shoulders and half-way down his back, then circled up again until you felt his muscles begin to relax.

"That feels nice," he breathed and sniffled a little.

You continued your motions for a while longer until his breathing evened out, you could tell he was still awake but knew he didn't intend on talking things out. That wasn't Dean. So instead, you rubbed up and down his arm and molded your chest into his back, settling into your position as big spoon. You squeezed him and held his hand against his chest.

"Thank you," he sighed and weaved his fingers through yours.

Dean didn't talk about feelings if he didn't have to. And for someone so 'tough', more often than not, he liked to be the little spoon. Especially to your big spoon.

There was an unspoken understanding that neither of you were ever to bring it up in the light of day. But things were just different at night and being vulnerable and open didn't feel as achy and oozy.

Feelings were allowed to be felt in the dark.

He'd be gone before you woke, starting breakfast and roasting coffee in the kitchen, but for now your pieces could hold his pieces together.

And maybe you could both finally get some sleep.

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33 @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

SPN: @hobby27

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supernaturalfreewill · 3 months

Text

Dean's mouth was hanging open as he stared at you across the room. He watched you swipe a hand across your eyes and flick the gore off your fingers down onto the floor. "Oh shit. Oh my God. I'm so sorry," he said in a rush. He crossed the room toward you and looked you up and down. You were completely covered in blood and guts; vampire blood and guts. Dean stared down at the weapon in his hand, agape. "I didn't realize that would happen. I didn't know it would—would—"

You wiped at your mouth and spit onto the floor. "—explode him all over me?" you finished for him.

"No," he said, shaking his head. His green eyes were wide. "I'm so sorry," he said again. "Uhh—here—" He hurriedly tugged off his flannel and handed it to you with an apologetic look.

You mopped at your face, wiping the gore off as best as you could. Your eyes met Dean's again. "You owe me a dinner. A very nice dinner. At least."

He nodded, giving you a boyish smile. "Does it help if I tell you how badass you look, even covered in—"

You held up a hand to stop him and squeezed your eyes closed.

"No—yeah, okay..." he muttered.

"Get me to a shower. Now," you said, thrusting his shirt back at him.

"Yeah, you got it," he said. "Uhh—you know maybe we should walk? Baby's upholstery, you know?" You glared at him and your eyes seemed to smolder. "Yeah, you know what? You're right. It's fine. I'll just clean it after—yeah... my bad. Let's just get you to the hotel and—yeah..."

Prompt: "You owe me a dinner. A very nice dinner."

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester imagines #spn imagines #supernatural #spn reader insert

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octoberclidan · 15 days

Text

Stolen Glances

Request: Can you write a smut story with dean in it I was hoping a friends to lovers sort of thing

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Masterlist

Note: this is 18+ only. Do not read this if you're under 18.

Story:

Glances. That's all she could get of him. She watched from the passenger seat of the Impala while the sun and the wind worked together to scatter highlights through his hair, and she listened as he sang along to his tape as if there was no one in the car with him. She smiled as she watched him enjoy the drive, no monsters to hunt down, no angels or demons after them, just a drive to get supplies for the bunker. He'd come to her room in the early afternoon to see if she wanted to come with him, and she never said no to spending more time with him, to catch more glances, to see small glimpses into what her life would be like if he was hers. He looked over to her after the song ended and she quickly looked away, not wanting to he caught stealing her glances.

"Think they'll have pie?" He asked and she looked back at him, rolling her eyes and laughing.

"Remember how you threatened the poor guy last time they had none? I think they order in twice as many now just in case you come in looking for it".

"Hey, don't bring up bad memories", he gave her a fake glare before looking back out at the road, and he smiled when he heard her quietly giggle to herself.

"Sorry, I forgot how traumatic that experience was for you".

"Worst thing that ever happened to me", he smiled while shaking his head. Although he was joking, [Y/N] sometimes wondered if being disappointed by a store being out of pie was somewhere up there with all of his other traumatic experiences in his head.

"Well, if they don't have pie then we can get the ingredients and I'll make one for you".

"Are you trying to get in my pants? 'Cause that'd do it", he grinned, glancing over for a second to admire the blush he'd created on her cheeks.

"Just drive", she couldn't help but smile, turning her head to look out of the window, hiding how easy it was for Dean to get her flustered. No one had ever given her butterflies with just a smile. Especially not a cocky smile. Then came Dean Winchester, so naturally confident, more attractive than any man she'd ever met. Just one wink from him and her heart would skip a beat, just one gentle brush of his hand against hers and she lost all sense of herself. She could keep her heartbeat and breathing steady when she was in hand-to-hand combat with any monster or demon, but one stolen glance at Dean and she couldn't control it. She didn't know if it was just a crush that she hadn't been able to get over, or if she was actually in love with him. She knew she loved him in some sense, she loved Sam and Cas too, but her feelings for Dean ran much deeper than familial love. She was hesitant to put a label on it though, and she'd never tell him.

Dean pulled into a parking space right in front of the store, and he led the way in, [Y/N] following behind him. "You wanna go grab the toilet paper? I'll get the food", Dean asked and [Y/N] nodded, and the two went their separate ways. She wandered down the aisle where she knew she'd find the toilet paper, but stopped when something caught her eye. Condoms. She couldn't remember the last time she'd needed them, she wasn't into casual sex with strangers like she knew Dean was, or even Sam was on occasion. Living in a bunker and spending most of her time either inside it, or across the country on a case with the boys, didn't really give her much time to build a relationship with anyone other than the boys. She often visited the local bar with Sam and Dean, and she never really liked the lonely trip back to the bunker on the occasion that they both found someone else to go home with. She had been feeling more and more in the mood for it recently though. Her fingers and her imagination, mostly occupied by thoughts of Dean, just weren't cutting it anymore. She wanted to find a man, but she'd been holding herself back, always finding excuses. She figured that maybe if she bought a pack of condoms and kept one in her purse, she'd be giving herself one less excuse to leave their bar alone.

She quickly grabbed a packet and made her way to the toilet paper, grabbing a few other toiletries on the way to hide the condoms. The last thing she wanted was for Dean to see them, raise his eyebrow at her, and make some smart comment on them. She knew she'd probably burn her cheeks with the embarrassment if that happened. She made her way to the checkout and paid for her stuff before heading outside to wait for Dean. She shoved the condoms into her jacket pocket while she held the rest of her things in a bag, waiting by the car for him to come out. In hindsight, she should've taken the keys from Dean so she could sit in the car, she knew he'd take longer if he was the one shopping for food. The air was warm, and she closed her eyes to enjoy the light breeze in her hair.

"Hey Sweetheart", Dean's voice caught her attention, and she opened her eyes to see him walking towards her, his hands full with bags. She could see a familiar box of pie peaking out of the top of one, and she almost felt disappointed. She wondered if she'd had to make one for him, if it would give him a reason to like her more.

"Hey", she smiled, pushing off the car. "They had pie?"

"Yup", Dean chuckled. "Dude scrambled to go get it when he saw me, I didn't even have to say anything".

"I'm telling you, he's terrified", she laughed and Dean shrugged sheepishly at her.

"Hey, could you grab the keys? They're in my pocket", Dean turned to his side and nodded down at his pocket. She nodded and reached into his jacket pocket with her free hand, but Dean cleared his throat when she found his pocket was empty. Looking up at him in confusion, she noticed a light blush across his nose. "Uh, sorry, I meant my jeans".

"Oh", she said, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks. "Right". She took her hand out of his jacket pocket and reached into his jeans pocket, quickly pulling out the keys and unlocking the car. They set their bags down before she silently handed Dean the keys and they got into the car. As soon as the engine was turned on, Dean turned on the music, neither of them making eye contact. She didn't know why it was so awkward, they'd been a lot closer to each other than having a hand in the other's pocket. She'd cleaned and stitched up wounds on his chest, stomach, and back. He'd cleaned and stitched up wounds on her shoulders, thighs, and sides, and it was never awkward.

About halfway back to the bunker, [Y/N] finally stole a glance over at Dean. The sun was starting to set, filling the Impala with a warm orange glow, and it hit Dean's face perfectly. They were coming up to a turn in the road when Dean looked in her direction, meaning to look out her window but catching her staring at him instead. When their eyes met, she jumped slightly and turned to look out the front of the car instead, but she looked back when she heard Dean chuckle. "What?" She asked, and he smirked before nodding down at the space between them, then looking back out onto the road. She looked down and immediately her cheeks felt like they were on fire. Her box of condoms had slipped out of her pocket and were now sitting beside her, fully visible to Dean.

"You seeing someone?" He asked as she quickly stuffed them back into her pocket.

"No", she shook her head, looking out the passenger window, not wanting to catch his eye.

"You planning to?" He asked, glancing over at her. She thought he sounded worried. She looked back at him with furrowed eyebrows.

"Maybe? Why does it matter to you?"

He shrugged as he looked back out the window. "Just think that if you're planning on going home with some guy, then Sam or I should know where you are. You know, for safety".

She scoffed and shook her head. "You don't tell me where you go when you find someone to hook up with. You think I can't look out for myself?"

"No, I do", he said, clearing his throat. "I just didn't know you were into that kind of thing".

"I'm not", she said quietly. Talking about one night stands, or sex in general, while alone with Dean was something she'd managed to avoid so far. She couldn't help but notice that he kept glancing at her as he drove. He quickly looked at her pocket, then back to the road, then to her eyes, then back to the road, then to her chest, then back to the road, then to her lips, then back to the road. It was making her feel a little self conscious, but it was also making her feel warm inside. After a few moments of silence, Dean cleared his throat again.

"So uh, if you're not into it, what's with the condoms?"

"Why are you suddenly so interested in my purchases?" Her cheeks warmed again as she saw his neck turn pink. Why did he look nervous? This was Dean, he didn't get nervous that easily.

"I'm not", he said, and she turned away from him again.

She sighed, contemplating whether it would be more or less awkward to continue the conversation. She didn't want things to be awkward between them later, so she figured it would be best just to get it out of the way now. "It's just... been awhile for me. I'm not into one night stands, but I also have needs, and desires, you know?" She asked, and Dean swallowed, nodding, but kept his eyes on the road. "So I figured, next time I'm at the bar, I'll give myself as few excuses for rejecting a guy as possible".

"Oh", he nodded. He stole another glance before muttering a "fuck this" and pulled over onto the side of the road.

"What are you doing?" She asked in confusion, and Dean turned to fully face her. She noticed that his eyes seemed darker than usual, and his chest showed he was breathing heavily.

"I can't concentrate on driving, I can't concentrate while thinking about you being prepared to go home with some guy, while thinking about you having needs and desires. Fuck [Y/N], do you even realise how hot you are?"

Now she was swallowing nervously. No man had ever looked at her quite like how Dean was looking at her, nothing but desire on his face as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, like he was finding it difficult to restrain himself. She blinked at him, completely speechless, waiting to wake up in her bed. Never in a million years would she ever have thought Dean would look at her like that, that he'd want her like that. Yet, here he was, waiting for her to say something, to give him permission. She glanced down at his lips as he licked them, and she couldn't help herself, she shuffled closer to him, sliding along the front bench. He lifted his arm up and onto the back bench behind her, and took his other hand off the steering wheel and grabbed her thigh, pulling a gasp from her as he angled her to face him. He left his hand on her thigh as he stared down at her, so close she could feel his breath on her face.

They glanced at each other's lips as they leaned in towards one another, finally closing their eyes as their lips touched. Dean almost immediately pushed his tongue into her mouth as he gripped her thigh tighter, and she moaned as his other hand slipped off the bench and into her hair. She slid her hands up his chest, leaving one there feeling his heart beating quickly as her other hand continued up to his face, feeling his stubble under her finger tips. Neither of them cared that they were on the side of the road as Dean's hand left her thigh and slid up under her shirt, his thumb just below her bra and his fingers gripping her side. She giggled as she pulled away from him, looking up and smiling. "That tickles".

He smiled at her as he leaned down for another kiss, pushing her down onto the bench and leaning his elbows either side of her. He pressed himself on top of her and she moaned as he ground against her. He left her lips and kissed along her jaw down to her neck before pushing his hand inside her jacket, pulling it off and letting it fall to floor of the car. He pushed his hand back up her top, feeling her body. "Dean", she whispered. He pecked at her neck once more before pushing himself up to look at her properly.

"Yeah Sweetheart?" He had that smirk on his face, the one she was all too familiar with, the one that made her imagine all sorts of scenarios with him.

"You're wearing too many clothes".

He chuckled before looking up over her head, out the passenger window. Luckily it was a quiet road, there didn't seem to be many people about. "Wanna get in the back? There's more space". He watched her blush as he spoke. "I mean, if you wanna keep going that is".

"Well", she bit her lip as she reached up cup his cheek. "I am prepared and everything".

He grinned as he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her up, reaching over her to open her door. She laughed at how excited he seemed, his smile making him look like he didn't have a care in the world, like this moment between them was the only thing in existence. He grabbed the condoms out of her discarded jacket, and they quickly got out of the car. Dean used the time to shed his own jacket before they slid into the back seat. Dean immediately grabbed [Y/N] and pulled her onto his lap, making her stradle him. He moaned as she leaned into him, feeling a hardness beneath his jeans. She began kissing at his jawline and neck as his hands found their way back up her top, his thumbs pushing up just under the cups of her bra, his fingers spread around her sides. Dean had large hands, and they made her feel small in his grasp.

"Fuck, that feels good", he groaned as she kissed just below his ear, his skin hot on her lips. "Can I take this off?" He asked, sliding his hands back down and tugging at the hem of her top. She leaned back slightly and nodded, and he grinned as he pulled it up and over her head, tossing it over the bench into the front of the car. "And this?" He asked, his hand running along the shoulder strap of her bra. She nodded again, this time a bit shyly, as he reached around to undo the clasp. Her bra fell away from her chest and he helped her slide the the staps down her arms. "Better than I imagined", he chuckled as he grabbed a breast in each hand, his thumbs flicking over both nipples.

"Imagined?" She asked, her fingers now toying with the hem of his t-shirt.

"Every day", he mumbled, completely distracted by the sight in front of him. "So many quick glances, not enough time to properly look", he said as his hand ran down her side, making her shiver, "and feel", he added.

She started to pull his shirt up and he complained when he had to take his hands off her to get it off, but as soon as it was on the floor, his lips were on hers in an instant. His tongue pushed into her mouth and he breathed heavily through his nose as she trailed her fingers over his stomach and up across his chest to his shoulders. She was taking her time with really feeling just how solid he was, how much muscle had had, how strong he felt under her. Her hands finally found their way back down to his belt, and she quickly unbuckled it. Getting the idea, Dean turned to his side and lay her down on the seat, leaning back to kick off his shoes and push his jeans off. She stared at him and the bulge in his boxers, the little wet patch from his arousal making itself apparent.

She reached down to unbutton her own jeans when his hands landed on hers. "Let me", his tone sounded almost like a plea as he waited for her to say yes, but she was lost in his appearance. Dean Winchester, stripped down to his boxers, a lights sweat on his body, his cheeks flushed, his lips slightly swollen, all because of her. Dean Winchester was looking at her like he'd never seen anything he wanted more. "Hey", he said, leaning over to cup her cheek. "Are you okay? Is this... this is still okay, right?" He asked, and she blinked, swallowing back her amazement and nodding.

"Yes", she said. "God yes, this is okay. I just got lost there for a second... do you even realise how sexy you are? Fuck Dean, look at you". He blushed and looked away from her, concentrating on her jeans again. Once they were undone, he pulled them down her legs, pulling her shoes off as he did so. Once she was left in just her panties, he leaned down to kiss her thighs, but looked up to her to catch her eyes as he did. He started to kiss higher up her legs, skipping over her underwear and kissing just below her belly button. She ran her fingers through his hair as she looked down at him, nervous but excited to watch him explore her body with his mouth.

He pecked her once more before hooking his finger into her panties and pulling them to the side, completely exposing her to him. He groaned as he leaned down, closing his eyes and licking up through her wetness. When he started to circle his tongue around her clit, she immediately clamped her thighs around his head, and gripped his hair tighter in her hand, surprised by how intense the pleasure was. "Fuck... sorry", she breathed out, relaxing her hold on him.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Do whatever you need, I'm into it", he kissed the inside of her thigh before focusing his attention back on her clit, now watching her reaction as he stroked a finger over her entrance. When she bucked her hips towards him, her inserted his finger, smiling to himself as she moaned. He continued to lick and such as he pushed another finger in, pumping in and out.

"Dean, stop, I'm close and I want us to cum together", she said through gritted teeth. He pulled away from her and raised his eyebrows.

"You sure? I can give you more than one".

"No", she shook her head, trying to calm herself. "The first one, I want it to be together".

He smiled at her as he nodded. She was completely lost in the moment, nothing else mattered other than the fact that Dean Winchester wanted to have sex with her in the back of his car, and it was about to happen. She watched with wide eyes as he pushed his boxers down, his cock fully erect, a bead of precum sitting on top. She licked her lips, she hoped they'd find themselves in a similar situation in the future where she could focus all of her attention on that, but right now she wanted him inside her. Dean grabbed the little box of condoms and pulled one out, splitting the wrapper open and pulling the rubber out. She fumbled with getting her panties off as she watched him expertly roll it onto himself.

"You ready?" He asked as he crawled on top of her, and she smiled up at him.

"Yes, I want to feel you", she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He positioned himself between her legs and slowly pushed in, holding his breath until he was as far as he could get. He let out a slightly shaky breath as he maneuvered slightly, caging her in between his arms.

"You feel so good", he whispered, leaning down to kiss her lips. He drew out of her slowly, just leaving the head inside, before thrusting back in. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping him tight as he set a steady pace. He kissed her lips, cheeks, jaw, and neck as he continued, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Their breathing got heavier the closer they got, and the kisses got sloppy as they both moaned and groaned and gasped at every spike in pleasure.

When Dean felt her tighten around him, it pushed him over the edge, and just like she wanted, they came together. After a moment of catching their breaths, Dean kissed [Y/N]'s lips and pulled out. He discarded the condom and then grabbed [Y/N]'s waist, spinning them so he was lying down on his back with her on top of him. She snuggled into his chest and wrapped her arms around him, and he kissed her hairline and started to stroke up and down her back. "I never thought that would happen", she said quietly, and Dean sighed in content.

"I'm glad it did", he said. "And I hope it will happen again?"

She lifted her head to look at him, and leaned in for a quick kiss. "It's definitely happening again". They both grinned at each other before they went back to cuddling. They knew there would be no more stolen glances, they could just take as many as they liked.

The end

Dean Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @k-slla @lyarr24 @candy-coated-misery0731 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @itburnslikehelltobevega @queenie32 @livingdead-reilly @vmaier12 @littlemadamred @darthysfanfic @dramatic-long-coats @kr804573 @cutiesarah

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