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#jensen x reader x jared
call-me-ami · 1 year
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Summary: Tonight is the night to fulfill your and your husband's hottest fantasies.
Pairing: Jeffrey Dean Morgan/Reader, Jensen Ackles/Reader/Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles/Danneel Harris/Jared Padalecki
Rating: E/18+
Tags/Advertisement: Open Marriage, Open Relationship, Sex Club, Public Sex, Voyeurism, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex (m and f receiving), Spitroasting, Double Penetration (p in v, p in a), Multiple orgasms (it's pwp okay, pure pwp)
AO3 Link
for the @spnkinkevents Kink Bingo square: Spitroasting
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You take a deep breath as you pull open the heavy door. The air inside is warm but still you shiver, naked as you are, save for the intricate black mask covering the top half of your face. The thumping beat of the music vibrates through you, making the soles of your feet tingle. Still, it’s not loud enough to drown out the sounds of sex all around you: the slapping of flesh, guttural groans, moans and sighs and screams.  
You furtively glance back at your husband who you know has entered the room just after you. Jeff nods to you, eyes sparkling, before he walks by you and over to where they are serving drinks.  
Your stomach flutters with nerves as you survey the room. While you had agreed to this, it’s still a little unnerving to be here, naked and exposed. You can feel people’s eyes on you, strangers’ eyes, roving over you top to bottom, and you barely resist the urge to cover yourself as you move deeper into the room. There are people fucking on every available surface, and probably just as many lounging around and watching, and you clench your thighs against that first tingle of arousal as you hear a woman to your left moan brokenly as she’s bounced in someone’s lap. That could be you. Probably is going to be you in the not-too-distant future. Fuck. 
You jump when a finger softly trails down your arm, a warm body pressing in close behind you. It’s not your husband—you’d know him anywhere. This is—someone else. You will your pounding heart to calm down as you turn around to face the stranger.  
He’s tall and half of his face is obscured by a black mask just like yours. He has a nice mouth, though, plush lips, a strong jawline, stubble. Your lips pull into a small smile when you notice a cluster of freckles at the base of his throat. It’s a small detail to focus on but it makes it feel more familiar; this isn’t something you’d know about a random stranger.  
He takes your hand, thumbs at the wedding band on your ring finger. “You gonna get me in trouble?” he asks, and you shiver at the sound of his voice, low and teasing.  
You swallow dryly, then shake your head. This is as much for your husband as it is for you.  
His lips pull into a grin, and you gasp when he easily spins you back around. You can feel him against the small of your back, hard and—God, big, and he palms your tits as his mouth latches onto your neck. It’s really happening.  
You groan in anticipation when one big palm skirts down your stomach while he nudges your legs wider with his foot at the inside of yours. All your muscles tense as you wait for him to touch you, right here in front of all these strangers.  
Your head tips back onto his shoulder with a soft whine and he chuckles into your ear as his hand slides between your legs, barely grazing your clit as his fingers go straight between your folds, a fingertip resting teasingly against your entrance. You are getting more aroused by the second, your heartbeat pulsing in your clit.  
His finger briefly dips into you before sliding up to your clit, spreading your wetness and circling the sensitive bundle of nerves until you clench your thighs around his fingers.  
“Ah ah, none of that,” he chides as his foot kicks your legs wider, exposing you to the view of everyone in front of you.  
It’s exhilarating, thinking about all these strangers watching you, seeing you like this, naked and vulnerable and so, so aroused. You make a noise of protest when his hand disappears and it morphs into a groan when he sucks his finger into his mouth, tasting you. He hums into your ear, says, “Delicious,” as he grinds himself against your ass, your skin already sticky with his precome. You wonder if he’s going to take you right here, like this, if he’ll hitch up your leg and— 
He releases you with a pinch of your nipple and a slap to your ass. “Come,” he says, guiding you along with a hand on the small of your back to the open bed just a few feet away. He urges you to lie down and as you do, you see Jeff from the corner of your eyes as he settles in an open spot across, idly stroking himself as he watches you settle in the middle of the bed, legs spread wide.  
Wide palms smoothing up your thighs draw your attention back to Freckles. His eyes are sparkling mischievously behind his mask as he grips your hips and pulls you forward. The new position leaves you utterly exposed with his hands tilting your hips up and your legs falling wide, and you bite your lip when your eyes meet your husband’s, his gaze half-lidded as he groans softly. You can’t hear over the noise, but you know; you can see his lips part and his hand speed up on his cock.  
You smile, entirely unprepared for the sensation of a mouth on your pussy. Your hips jump and an arm comes down over them to hold you down as he licks you taint to clit. You can’t help a moan at the wet heat on your pussy, the teasing tongue, the toe-curling suction. Your fingers twist into Freckles’ hair, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away, and his lips curve into a smile against your flesh.  
Your back arches when two fingers enter you without warning, squelching through your wetness, as he attacks your clit again. You do hear Jeff’s moan this time and echo it, loud and unashamed, hips bucking as much as they can under the restriction.  
Your orgasm is building fast, curling tight in your belly, tingling up your spine. His fingers speed up, relentlessly hitting your g-spot as he continues to devour your pussy. You scream your pleasure a moment later, the intensity overwhelming, your muscles locking, pussy clenching around the fingers still slowly stroking into you.  
You whimper when he sucks at your clit again, the feeling almost too much. You ease your grip on his hair and he noses into the crease of your thigh instead, stubble bristling at the inside of your thigh, fingers still inside of you, as you try to catch your breath.  
You are still reeling from your orgasm when the fingers start to move again, slowly, before a third presses in. Just like that, you’re teetering on the edge again, that first flutter of another orgasm starting deep in your belly. You mewl in frustration when he withdraws his fingers a second before you can crash over the edge. He laughs, slaps your pussy, before three fingers drive back into you hard and fast only to leave you hanging right on the precipice again, muscles fluttering around the sudden emptiness.  
“Fuck,” you cry breathlessly, jerking for his hot breath on your sensitized flesh, the kiss he sucks to your clit.  
Freckles hauls you upright, takes your place on the bed before he pulls you into his lap. You go easily, your legs like jelly as you straddle him and rub yourself along the length of his hard dick, your core aching in anticipation. His hands go to your hips, guiding you, and his head tips back, mouth open in a pant. It’s a gorgeous sight.  
Feeling bold, you lean forward, suck and nibble on the cluster of freckles, lick up his throat and suck on his Adam’s apple. His moan vibrates under your lips as his grip tightens on your hips. You sit back, brace yourself on his chest with one hand as you shift up onto your knees, using your other hand to guide his cock to your entrance.  
Your gaze flickers to Jeff, who is watching you as you sink down, taking just the flared head. You gasp, and your husband licks his lips, strokes his cock, his eyes fixed between your legs.  
Freckles’ hands flexing on your hips have you tearing your eyes away and refocusing on the cock working its way into you. It’s thick, just the way you like it, and you are panting a little harder the lower you work yourself. There are more people watching you, men and women alike getting off to the sight of you fucking this stranger, and you close your eyes, stutter out a breath as you sink down the last inch. You moan at the fullness, your fingers curling into Freckles’ chest as he starts thrusting up into you, ratcheting your pleasure right up to the edge again. Just a little more— 
You gasp in surprise at the sudden pressure on your clit, at the presence of a third, new hand touching your body. You can’t see who it belongs to but it’s big and its touch is sending you flying almost immediately, clenching hard around the cock buried deep inside of you as you tip over the edge again, your thighs shaking with the intensity of your orgasm.  
You slump forward with a moan, only to have those big hands slide up your body and palm your tits, hauling you upright again, keeping you bouncing on Freckles’ cock. It’s almost too much, the stimulation too intense, and you throw your head back on a keen when your nipples get pinched, rolled, pulled. 
Freckles laughs breathlessly as he slows his pace, his gaze somewhere over your shoulder. He nods, and the hands leave your tits, grab your hips and lift—lift you off Freckles’ cock with a wet squelch that makes your cheeks heat, your pussy clenching on nothing. 
Freckles shifts back and onto his knees, grinning, and you don’t have the time to question what he knows that you don’t before the big guy holding you drops you onto the bed, rearranging you onto your hands and knees.  
Freckles brushes your hair out of your face, slaps his hard cock against your lips, smears precome and your own juices onto your skin. You shiver, your mind reeling with the overwhelming intensity of the situation. “C’mon,” he urges quietly, and you wet your lips before placing a kiss on the weeping tip, teasing him just a little. He growls, a deep, rumbly sound that whispers down your spine, and you open your mouth and let him push in on a shallow thrust, and your combined tastes burst on your tongue salty-bitter, making you groan.  
“Go easy,” Freckles says, and you don’t understand until—until you feel the pressure of a cock against your entrance, and it enters you easily, almost too smoothly, with the slick squelch of—lube, you think, and you pant around the cock in your mouth as you try to process the dual sensations.  
Your hands curl into the bed when you are starting to feel full. But Big Guy, he keeps pushing, going deeper, and you tense, your eyes going wide as you look up at Freckles. He cups your cheek, thumbs at your earlobe, says, “I know it’s a lot, sweetie, just a little more, promise it’s worth it,” before he languidly rolls his hips, slides his cock over your tongue and to the back of your mouth.  
You make a soft noise in your throat, your body trembling as it tries to adjust. Freckles keeps fucking into your mouth in shallow strokes, rubbing himself over your tongue, his hand resting lightly on top of your head, guiding, angling, but not forcing.  
Behind you Big Guy moans as he finally bottoms out and you gasp, the air stolen from your lungs with how deep inside of you he feels. His first thrust sends you scampering forward, onto the cock in your mouth, and you cough when it hits the back of your throat too quickly. Big Guy pulls you back, his hands holding you tight as he feeds his cock back in balls deep, making you whimper and moan.  
It takes a few moments for the intense fullness to turn into pleasure, but when it does you arch your back and press back into the feeling. Big Guy laughs and slaps your ass for it, right and left, while Freckles is relentlessly working your throat open with little thrusts that send him a fraction deeper into you on every one.  
That first full push into your throat still makes you gag, your whole body going tight and making Big Guy curse under his breath for the clench of your cunt.  
Your eyes water and your cheeks heat. You can do this, have done this for Jeff, but with the two cocks working you into a frenzy and your skin prickling under the gaze of God only knows how many strangers, you can’t focus enough to put your best efforts forward.  
Big Guy slows his movements, palms your ass, spreads your cheeks, but it’s Freckles drawing your attention with a tug on your hair as his hips rolls forward again to bury his cock into your mouth and throat. You suck in a breath through your nose before he sinks himself in all the way, and you swallow against the intrusion, drawing a groan.  
You wish you could see your husband right now, see how much he enjoys seeing you like this, get some reassurance. But you can’t move enough to see him, not like this.  
You gasp when Freckles pulls back and gives you a moment to breathe. At the same time, Big Guy settles into an easy rhythm—too easy, almost teasing, you think—and then you feel a thumb circling your ass, slick and teasing, pulsing against your hole, and for a moment you think you can’t take any more, can’t take another sensation added to the mix.  
You whine softly when the finger presses in at the same time as Big Guy pushes himself deep again.  
“Fuck, yeah,” Freckles chuckles breathlessly, “you think you can take us both, sweetie?”  
His thumb strokes the hollow of your cheek, almost gentle, and you are torn between nodding and shaking your head, your mind reeling at the sheer possibility of—  
“Yeah, I think you can,” Freckles drawls in that deep voice and you close your eyes for a second, overwhelmed with the stimulation, with the deep pressure of a cock in your pussy, the pleasurable tingle of a finger fucking your ass, the hot weight of a cock on your tongue. Overwhelmed with the thought of having one of them fuck your ass instead.  
Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere on Big Guy’s next stroke in, shuddering through you in waves, your body trembling in their hold. Big Guy fucks you right through it, though the tight clutch of your muscles on his cock, his slick skin hitting yours on every thrust as he sneaks a second finger into your ass.  
You make a strangled noise, somewhere between a moan and a whimper as you keep shivering through the last tremors of your pleasure.  
“She ready?” you hear Freckles ask through the fog in your brain, and Big Guy’s fingers plunge into your ass a couple more times, scissoring on the way out.  
“Yeah, you’re ready, aren’t you sweetie?” Freckles asks as he pulls out of your mouth, his spit-shiny cock bobbing right in front of your face when you look up at him to nod.  
Big Guy hauls you upright again, those big hands cupping your tits and you gasp for how deep it sends him. You look over to your husband, his eyes on you and only you despite the redhead on her knees sucking his cock, his lip caught between his teeth, his hands flexing restlessly on the girl’s head. You know it’s all because of you, not her. 
“Hey,” Freckles says, as he grabs your chin and makes you look at him again. For a second you wonder if he’s going to kiss you, but then his gaze darts over your shoulder again and he nods as he pats your cheek.  
“Fuck,” you whine as Big Guy withdraws slowly, leaving you quivering, achingly empty, his fingers rolling your nipples as he keeps holding you upright, making you watch Freckles lie back and lube his cock, leaving no doubt about what’s going to happen.  
You swallow, tasting the remnants of Freckles in your mouth, as Big Guy mouths on your neck, his breath hot-damp on your skin.  
“Go on,” Big Guy murmurs against your ear as he lets you go, his voice smooth and silky.  
Freckles holds his hand out to you and you take it, letting him pull you towards him. His hand is sticky with lube, leaving your skin sticky as well as he manhandles you into his lap, your back to his chest.  
It brings you face to face with Big Guy for the first time; your eyes wandering up his body, from that long, thick cock up over chiseled abs and a defined chest to a strong jaw, over the plain black mask to shaggy brown hair, his skin glistening with sweat. Good God. Your eyes drop back down again, and you wonder how in the hell you even managed to fit him into your body.  
He grins at you as though he knows where your thoughts have gone.  
You are distracted again by Freckles circling your clit as he slaps his slicked-up cock against your cunt a few times. It’s Big Guy who knees closer, though, and guides Freckles’ cock to your ass.  
Freckles groans, the sound vibrating against your back as he mindlessly strokes the back of your thighs, holding you open. There’s only pressure and you try your best to relax, your lips parting in a breathless gasp when the tip pops in.  
Freckles pants into your ear, his grip on your legs tightening as he slowly circles his hips up, sliding himself deeper.  
“Oh my God,” you cry out when Big Guy drives three fingers into your cunt at the same time and presses down. Freckles’ hips stutter, his voice shaky as he curses colorfully into your ear. Your back arches when Big Guy fingerfucks you hard, making you shake and moan as he drags another orgasm out of you.  
“C’mon, stop playing,” Freckles rasps, his hands splaying over your stomach as Big Guy moves in close enough to keep your legs from closing. You stop breathing for the moment he breaches you again, for the incredible fullness of two cocks inside of you.  
You catch one last glimpse of Jeff with his head thrown back, hips lifting to fuck into the redhead’s throat as he comes, before your vision is filled with Big Guy as he buries himself deep inside your pussy again.  
“Fuck,” you whine weakly, sandwiched between these two strangers, filled so deeply it feels like you can’t breathe.  
Freckles coos breathless little nothings from beneath you as they settle into a maddening rhythm that has you scrambling for purchase, your fingernails digging into Big Guy’s shoulders as you try to hang on. 
It seems impossible to come again, but against all odds you can feel the pleasure curling tight in your belly again.  
“Fuck, I can feel you, Jay, that’s so fucking hot,” Freckles pants as his hand presses down low on your belly, before he grabs one of your hands and makes you feel it, too.  
Big Guy—Jay, you suppose—pulls back and buries himself to the hilt again. You feel it inside and out, and when Freckles presses down on your hand, the pleasure sparks up another notch. You whimper, too overwhelmed to form words, your body tensing in anticipation of the inevitable.  
You are going to come again. You can feel it building with each push and pull and Jay grabs your chin, makes you look at him as he fucks you hard and fast.  
“C’mon, one more,” he urges.  
Freckles presses down on your belly again, mouths at your neck, his breath hot as he says right against your ear, “Give us one more, sweetie. Wanna feel you come all over our cocks, c’mon.”  
It’s his fingertip on your clit that sends you into an earth-shattering fifth orgasm a moment later and they fuck you through it, rhythms finally faltering as they follow you over the edge, both of them holding deep as they come inside of you, groaning their release. 
You ride the last waves of pleasure, the tension starting to leave your body. Their hands are still stroking your body, soft and gentle now, their breaths on your overheated skin making you shiver. You feel exhausted now that the fog in your mind is clearing, the little pains and aches starting to set in.  
Jay thumbs at your jawline, shifting your focus back to him. “You good?” he asks and you nod shakily and lick your dry lips.  
“Yeah,” you say, your voice cracking on the one syllable. He smiles at you, wide, all teeth, his hand skimming down your side as he starts to pull out.  
Another shiver wrecks your body for the slow drag of his cock and you gasp when he pops free, leaving you so empty. He drags two fingers through your folds, traces your entrance and then down lower to where Freckles is still buried inside you, and you can’t help a soft mewl. You are not sure how much more you can take.  
Freckles shushes you, runs a soothing hand over your ribs. Your eyes dart to your husband who looks just as fucked out as you feel, his mouth curving into a lazy smile. You sigh in satisfaction, happy that you both got what you wanted tonight.  
Jay’s big hands settle on your hips and carefully lift you off of Freckles’ cock and you can’t help a soft whine at the loss and the emptiness, the slow trickle of cum down the inside of your thigh. He sets you down on your feet, rushing to steady you when your legs wobble.  
There are still so many eyes on you, even now, and for the first time, it feels a little intrusive. All you want now is Jeff, to be held and to kiss him and feel his warm, reassuring presence.  
Jay slowly lets you go, the redhead who sucked Jeff’s cock sliding in against your side instead, her arm going around your waist. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up,” she says, and you nod before you glance back at Freckles sitting up on the edge of the mattress, then up and up and up at Jay—God, he’s so tall, taller than your husband even. The words thank you hover on the tip of your tongue but you don’t need to say them for them to know.  
“Come,” the redhead says, guiding you away from the scene of the crime and back the way you came, past the locker area into what you realize are communal showers.  
At the far end, two women are lazily making out in the spray and you glance at the redhead again who is gently steering you under the warm spray of a shower.  
You let it rush over your body for a moment before you take off your mask and lazily run your hands through your tousled hair, then down your body.  
“I’m Danni,” she says as she lathers up some body wash in her hands, then gently scrubs them down your back.  
“Y/N,” you sigh.  
When you turn around, her mask is on the floor with yours and you look at her for a moment. She’s pretty. You wait for the inevitable flare of jealousy at knowing she had her mouth on your husband’s dick but it doesn’t come.  
She smiles at you as if she knows, then slides her slick hands over your hips to the outside of your thigh. “You’re gonna be sore tomorrow.” she says quietly before handing you a damp washcloth.  
You gingerly run it between your legs and down the inside of your thighs, cleaning away the evidence of your debauchery.  
“You’re with—”  
You feel stupid calling them the nicknames you gave them in your head to her face, so you just say, “—them?”  
She nods, her lips quirking into a small smile. “Yeah, we are—a thing.”  
You nod before tilting your head back into the spray, letting the warm water run over your face. When you bring your head down again, Danni is wrapped in a towel and holding one out for you.  
You take it gladly, wrap yourself up in the fluffy cotton before following her back to the locker room. You blink at the harsh lights and wander over to locker 17 and put in the combination to unlock it.  
“Hey sweetheart.”  
You smile as an arm slides around your shoulder from behind, Jeff’s warm body pressing against your back, his beard bristling at the side of your neck as he noses at your jaw.  
You melt back into his embrace, let his familiar scent and the low rumble of his voice wash over you.  
“That was fucking hot,” he rasps into your ear, and although he is already dressed again, he can’t resist a slow roll of his hips against your ass.  
You hum in response, basking in the warmth of his body and the knowledge that despite having sex with other people tonight, your marriage is absolutely fine.  
“Take your time. I’ll wait for you outside, sweetheart,” he says after a while, and he kisses the side of your neck before he lets you go.  
You miss his warmth immediately. Still, you take your time getting dressed, letting your muscles dictate how fast you move. At last, you take a big gulp of the bottle of water you brought with you and scrounge your hair up into a messy ponytail before you take your purse and leave the locker room.  
You can still hear the thump-thump of the music as you pass by the heavy wooden doors. Your cheeks heat when you think about what happened on the other side of them.  
You go outside, the night air cool on your skin. From the outside, you’d never be able to tell what is going on inside.  
You make your way to your car where Jeff is waiting for you. He holds out his hand to you and you take it, let yourself be pulled in.  
“Hey,” he says, and you smile, saying, “Hey,” back before you lean in and kiss him, long and slow.  
You only part when there’s movement behind you, and you turn, tuck yourself against Jeff’s side, your face flaming when you recognize Danni and—you can finally see their faces now and they are both so handsome. 
You watch as Freckles fist-bumps Jeff like they are old buddies. They probably are, you realize. You hadn’t even given it much thought what it exactly Jeff had meant when he said he had arranged for this evening. 
Freckles shoots you a grin as he runs his hand through his hair. “Jensen,” he says easily, “this is Jared, and you already know Danni.” Jared lifts his hand in a little awkward wave while Danni flashes you a smile.  
“Y/N,” you say, ducking your head. It’s a little hard to look at them when a highlight reel of the two of them fucking you six ways to Sunday in front of your husband is still playing in your mind in high definition.  
Jensen chuckles and drags his knuckles down your cheek, lifting your chin. “No need to be shy, sweetie,” he says and you release a nervous breath as Jeff squeezes your hip reassuringly, giving you something to focus on.  
“You know, when Jeff suggested this, I wasn’t sure how this was gonna go, but—” he trails off, glances at his partners. They both nod. “If you ever feel like doing this again in a more private setting, give us a call.”   
Fuck. You are a little mortified but at the same time just the thought makes you clench your thighs.  
He leans in and places a kiss on your cheek before he side-hugs Jeff. “Think about it,” he says with a grin and you watch him throw an arm around Danni’s shoulder before the three of them take off.  
“No pressure,” Jeff mutters as he kisses your temple, his hand squeezing your ass. You already know he will make you feel like a queen once you get home, taking care of your every need.  
You hum softly and lean up to kiss your husband before saying, “I love you.”
He thumbs at your cheekbone and steals another kiss. “I love you, too. Thank you for tonight.” 
And you know you won’t even have to think about it. You know you’re going to call them.  
For you and for Jeff.  
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thanks for reading, lemme know if you enjoyed!!!
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spnfanficpond · 4 months
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Hi. I'm looking for a fic I'm hoping someone can help me find. It's a 3 part (I think) poly J2xreader fic. They go on a vacation to a beach and the reader is attacked. Sorry I don't have more details... but hopefully someone knows it...?
We sent a message to our Discord server, but it didn't ring any bells for anyone in there. Hopefully, someone out in the world will see this and recognize it!!
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Does anyone know this fic our Nonnie is looking for?
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Older (Dean Winchester)
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Description: Y/N has a crush on Dean but they have a 20 year age gap. How does Dean react when she finally tells him?
Warning: Smut, Age Gap
Word Count: 1,743k
Y/N watched Dean as he washed Baby. His big muscular arms on display with the tight white shirt that had dirt on it. Baby was soapy and wet as Dean wiped her down. Y/N was trying not to drool as he went in circular motions cleaning the car. She was too into the scene in front of her; she didn’t notice Sam coming up to her side. “Stare any longer he might just notice your obvious crush on him.” He said to me, making her snap out of it. She turned towards him and rolled her eyes. He chuckled and handed her a beer. She took it from him and took a drink. “Ya think maybe he’s too old for you.” He said. Y/N pushed him and they both laughed. She sighed and looked at Dean again. He was pouring water on the soapy car. She sighed and got up  from her spot and walked into the house. She needed a cold shower to erase the dirty thoughts from her mind. 
It was days later that she’d be staring at the older man as he made breakfast. They had just come back from a hunt and Y/N was hungry so Dean offered to cook for her. Sam was getting some sleep but the other two were wide awake. “How do you like your eggs?” He asked her as he got them out of the fridge. “Over easy.” She said and he cracked the two eggs on the pan. She watched as he put the bread in the toaster. “You really didn’t have to make me anything.” She said as Dean put the eggs on the plate. “But I wanted to. You deserve it putting up with us.” She laughed as he set the eggs and toast in front of her. She thanked him. “Well I like putting up with you guys.” She said. He got his plate and sat across from her. “What, you got a crush on one of us?” He joked but she didn’t laugh. “Nah we’re probably too old for you anyway.” He said. She stared at him without saying anything. She shook her head and went back to eating her food. “Yeah totally.” She said. 
She woke up 7 hours later in bed and yawned. She remembered the cringey things Dean asked her this morning and she sighed. She thought for a second when he asked her that she was caught. Luckily Dean was oblivious.She got out of bed and stretched. She walked out of her room and noticed Dean at the table on the computer. “Where’s Sam?” She asked. “Grocery Shopping.” He said and nodded and sat down across from him. He looked up from the computer at her. “So back to early convo you probably like Jack don’t you?” He asked. She looked at him confused. “No, not the antichrist.” She laughed. “Do you even like anybody?” He asked. “Dean, can we not talk about this?” She asked not wanting to expose herself. “Yeah sure.” He said and went back to research. The silence now,awkward and unwanted. 
Why was Dean so curious about who she had feelings for or if she did? She honestly thought that Dean was too old for her but that’s how she liked it. They were eating dinner and she had a glass of wine. Dean sat across from her and Sam sat next to Dean. Jack and Cas sat next to her. Everyone was in a conversation except her. She never talked much while eating. She sometimes butted in with Jack and Cas but other than that kept quiet. Dean noticed her silence and wondered if it was about his question earlier. The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable. After dinner was over she helped him clean up.
She didn’t say anything to him so he figured he thought correct. “I’m sorry about the question earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He said. She looked at him. “You didn’t.” She said and poured herself some more wine. “If I did I would completely understand-” “Dean.” She interrupted him. He looked over at her and she was holding the wine and her upper body on the table a little. Her boobs are perfectly on display. “What are you-” She took a sip of wine and smirked. “I told myself I’d never fuck anyone old enough to be my dad.” She states. He stares at her in shock. She stood up and walked closer to him. “That was until I met you.” She said seductively. “Wait you like me?” He asked her confused but kinda turned on.
She nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And before you give me any of that age bullshit. I’m 22 i’m an adult.” He stared at her as her hands ran over his chest. “You have no idea what you do to me Dean.” She says and her hands lower themselves to the bottom of his shirt. She tugs on it and he looks down seeing what she was doing. “Y/N are you sure?” He asked her. She looked up at him with lustful eyes. “Are you sure Dean? Think you can handle me, old man?” He chuckled and picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.She laughed as he took her to his room. He threw her on the bed and smirked. “I’m 42 sweetheart not 72.” He said and took off his shirt revealing his amazing body. She was almost drooling at the sight. He crawled onto the bed and hovered over her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him down in a kiss. He moved his lips against hers as his hands traveled her body. He lifts her tank top up a bit and she pulls away from the kiss. She sits up and removes it showing her white bra. He looks down at her boobs and cups them. “Wow you’re so sexy.” He says and moves his hands to her back. He unclips the bra and she lets it fall freeing her boobs. He smirks at the sight and leans down to put one of her nipples in his mouth. She gasps his name and her hands go to his head as he licks and sucks. Her hands moved to his jeans and she cupped his growing erection. He moans against her nipple. “Dean take these off.” She breathes out. He pulls away from her nipple and gets up to remove his jeans. He pulls them down along with his boxers. She moves herself to the end of the bed and pulls him closer to her. “I didn’t know if I want you in my mouth or inside of me.” She says and he chuckles. Her eyes staring at his long hard cock. “Both would be ideal but right now I really need to be inside of you.” He tells her and pushes her back on the bed.
She smiles as he pulls down her panties. He gets back on her and kisses her again. She runs her hands up and down his muscular back. He pulls away and sighs into her mouth as he lines himself up with her entrance. He pushes in slowly and she gives a sharp gasp. “Are you okay?” He asked. She nods. He pushes in deeper and her noises fill his ear. She hadn’t had sex with many people and certainly not with a guy this big before. Once he was in her all the way he let her adjust to him. They stare at each other as she adjusts to him. He got lost in her eyes not believing that this was happening right now. She pulled him out of his thoughts when she thrusted up. She moaned as the pain was gone and she was full of pleasure. He started moving his hips and she let out little moans. Her eyes closed and her mouth opened. He didn’t let his eyes close as he watched her facial expressions. He groaned as her hips started matching his. She grabs his neck and moans his name. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He breathes out and she opens her eyes to look at him. “You feel so good inside of me.” She whimpers. He leans down and starts kissing her neck. She gasped and pulled him closer if that was possible. “Dean, go faster.” She begged and he moved as fast as he could.His hips pounding into her hard and fast making the bed screech. His lips left marks on her neck. Neither of them cared at the moment.
He pulled out of her some and angled his hips. He slammed back in her and hit her g spot making her scream. He covered her mouth with his hand. “Gotta remember sweetheart we aren’t the only ones here.” He groans in her ear. She tried to keep her sounds to a minimum but with him pounding at her g spot that didn’t work. “Dean, you feel too good.” She mumbles in his hand. He nods. “Fuck I know baby. You feel amazing.” He moans. She felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge. He was twitching inside of her signaling that he was close too. “Baby I'm close.” She moaned and he groaned out a me too. She gasped out feeling him fill her up which triggered her orgasm. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as her orgasm hit her. She bit her lip trying to hold back the loud noises that threatened to spill from her. Her hips moved up as she rode out her high. Dean watched her and almost became hard again. Her hips slowed and she opened her eyes seeing Dean already looking at her. “That was hot.” He smirked. She rolled her eyes. “Yeah well thanks to you.” She smirked back. He pulled out of her causing her to moan.
He got up and went to the bathroom and got a wet towel. He came back and cleaned her and him up. “Such a gentleman.” She teased. He laughed and threw the towel in the laundry bin. He collapsed next to her and yawned. “Tired old man?” He turned to look at her. “Baby I could go another 5 rounds.” He said. She turned towards him and smirked. “Prove it.” She said and he smirked. Sam couldn’t sleep that night but Dean and Y/N weren’t complaining.
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soupsuckz · 5 months
Note
can you do touch-starved! sam winchester head cannons (fem reader)??
♡ I AM BACK ON MY TUMBLR GRIND! ♡
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literally never more than four feet away from you
always finds some reason to touch you
"c'mon, my hands are cold!!"
isn't a huge fan of pda but he loves holding your waist in public
cuddles. all night. no matter what.
loves when you wrap your leg over his while you're sleeping
if you're next to him but you aren't touching, he'll move your hand onto his thigh or smth so you are
leans into your hand when you hold his face
he keeps a bottle of your perfume for when he's gone
sprays his pillow with it and holds said pillow
insists on getting matching holiday pajamas for you both
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supercap2319 · 1 month
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Dean: *Smiles charmingly* "You know, Y/N. You should go out with a real man."
Y/N: *Looks at him and smiles* "Sure. Do you know one?"
Sam: *Laughing in the corner*
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castiwls · 3 months
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"sacrifice, that's what we do for the people we love"
being the middle child in the winchester family...
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I’d imagine you being like two years younger than Dean and two years older than Sam. So like literally the middle child
Your memories of your mum are fuzzy but you can recall a few things
When Mary died you were only two so you didn’t really understand what was going on for a while.
When you all first left Lawernce you spent most of that first night in a motel room crying because you wanted your mom and your bed. (Dean had to comfort you cause John left his two toddlers and baby alone in a motel #dadoftheyear)
When you were like ten your dad told you about what he had been doing for the past eight years. You were terrified but he made you promise not to tell Sam. He also made sure you knew that it was your job to keep Sam safe. 
Basically, you stopped being a child at ten.
You and your brothers were really close.
You and Dean basically trauma-bonded over hunting and also having wayyyy too much responsibility at a young age. 
Out of you and Dean, you were more emotionally available so Sam tended to tell you more.
As he got older he would talk to you about getting out and stuff. While your dad and Dean were very much into hunting you and Sam were more of on the sidelines. 
Sam got his love of reading from you. He’d always tell you about the books he was reading and what he was doing in class.
You’re the mediator for the family. It was always you who broke up fights. You were also able to calm your father down.
Mentioning in a passing comment that you didn’t want to hunt when you were like 15 and John flipped.
“If you don’t want to help kill the thing that killed your mom then you can get out.”
So you did. You left at 15 for 6 months.
In reality, you went to stay with Bobby but you never told your dad that.
Dean begged you to stay and would call every day. So would Sam.
Around this time Sam also started to want to leave. 
“I wanna come stay with you.” You sighed leaning against the wall. The phone rested between your ear and shoulder. “You can't Sam. Dad would flip your too young.” He let out a frustrated noise but let the topic go. (for now)
Dean would also call often and beg you to come home.
“Look he didn’t mean it, alright. It was just a heat of the moment thing.”
You did eventually come back. (Bobby wasn’t happy but let you go)
Your brothers were overjoyed and you actually got an apology from your dad (shocker.)
Things were ok for a few years and then Sam got a bit older and started talking about school. He’d only talk to you about it though. It wasn’t that Dean hated the idea but he didn't understand.
One day when you were 18 and he was 16 Sam asked to talk in private. So you took him to a dinner near the motel and he told you about Stanford.
“One of my teachers thinks it's possible.” He pushed the pamphlet towards you. “I just need a signature from an adult and I know Dad won't sign it.” You quietly looked over the pamphlet for a moment. A sense of pride washed over you as well as relief. This was his way out. “Of course, I’ll sign it.”
You both kept it quiet for the next year and when his acceptance letter came in you both kept it to yourselves but you were so proud
#proud parent moment.
Though eventually, Dean found the letter. 
“Did you know about this?” He asked holding up the letter. You felt your blood run cold as you grabbed the letter from him. “Yes. I did know.” You admitted. “It was me who signed the papers.” Your brother's eyes widened a look of betrayal crossed his face. “Why would you do that?” His voice began to rise as he spoke. “Because Sam deserves a future Dean.”
You two didn’t speak for a while after that. Dean got over it though.
When it came time for Sam to leave that's when all hell broke loose.
You’d never heard your dad yell so loud. He and Sam went back and forth for hours until your younger brother just walked out. You and Dean both followed him. After calming him down you went with him to the bus and said goodbye.
Dean was kinda non-plussed (inside he hated it and was worried sick). You were worried but happy that he was getting out.
When you and Dean went back to the motel John was furious. He blamed you (of course)
“This is your fault. You're the one who put all those ideas in his head and look what happened.”
Dean jumped in front of you and told him to back off. 
“Sam’s his own person you can’t blame her for this!”
After this, you and Dean get closer. John starts taking more hunts alone meaning that you and Dean spend a lot of time just driving around.
You would probably class this as the first time in your life you felt truly happy. Hunting with Dean was easier and there were fewer arguments.
Sam would call u often to update you. When he told you that he’d met a girl you were so happy for him. (it really seemed he got out)
But then your dad went missing and Dean insisted on getting Sam to help.
You were glad to have both your brothers back but at the same time felt insanely guilty as you watched Sam fall back into hunting.
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pank0w · 1 month
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When you read a really good fic but then after ur done reading it, realising that it was a part of a series so now your dying because now you’ve ruined it.
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nosebleeds-247 · 1 month
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I Can Fix That
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Summary: When you’re faced with the threat of a dragon the boys don’t think much of it. However, you’re terrified because unbeknownst to them, you’re actually a virgin, meaning the dragon could very well come for you. You tell Dean and he comes up with a pretty good solution.
Warnings: piv, fem-receiving oral, first time, unprotected sex, no aftercare shown but trust me…it happened, praise, vanilla sex.
MDNI, you are responsible for your own media consumption beyond this point.
You’ve been a hunter as long as you can remember. However, you’ve never had the ‘pleasure’ of dealing with a dragon before. The Winchester boys quickly catch you up to speed on the lore.
Dragons are similar to the traditional dragons in lore, but, whilst in confined spaces they take on a humanoid form. Their motive is to abduct and sacrifice young female virgins to become the vessel of Eve. It’s rumored that sometimes they even eat these women as well.
You shouldn’t be worried though, Sam points out. I mean you often join in with Dean as he boasts about his variety of sexual experiences. So you definitely shouldn’t be worried at all right?
Wrong
You’ve never slept with someone ever. Hell, you haven’t even held hands romantically in years, there’s no time for that now. At your age you felt embarrassed with your lack of experience so you always overcompensate by telling masterfully thought up stories.
Never once did you think you’d have to come clean…but here you are, sitting across from the one and only Dean Winchester, your best friend that you’ve been lying to for God knows how long.
“What’s up?”, he asks confused with your sudden change in demeanor.
Previously you’d been hyped to finally face a dragon but now that him and Sam had told you the lore he noticed a drastic change.
“It’s just…”, you trail off biting your nails.
“Cmon you can tell me anything, you know me”, Dean reassures.
“Well it’s just, I’m really nervous to face this dragon yknow”
“You shouldn’t have anything to worry about considering what you’ve told me”.
You wince at this and shake your head, looking down.
Dean catches on, “hey, you never had to make all that shit up. It’s not embarrassing to be a virgin, if anything it shows you have self control!”
“Listen Dean, that’s great and all but my main concern isn’t the morality of sex right now. I’m more worried about being this dragons next snack…”
He smirks, “I think there’s an obvious solution here”.
You blush at this, “Dean what are you implying?”
“Well I’m just saying I think we both know how to assure your safety and I’m more than willing to provide my…services”
“Oh?”, you question with a quirk of your eyebrow. You hadn’t even thought about that but it is less risky than just playing the defensive game.
“So whaddya say?”
“Fuck it”, you respond with a small smile.
Dean smiles and stands, walking over towards you. “Cmon then sweetheart, don’t you want the proper bedroom experience?”, he teases before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards his room.
Once there he pushes you against his bed, your knees giving out at the pressure. He then lays atop you and presses a small peck to your nose before your lips connect.
The kiss is heated but soft as his tongue gently massages against yours, his hands moving down the curves of your body. His fingers move down under the fabric of your panties, circling around your clit.
He unbuttons your jeans, slipping them off and your panties go along with. You arch your back as Dean’s lips latch onto your clit. His hands trail down your thighs and one of his fingers prods at your entrance. He finally slips it in and starts pumping in and out of you.
You groan as his pace quickens, tongue still lapping at your clit. He adds another digit and curls his fingers, sending you over the edge as you grip the sheets.
“Fuck Dean, I- I think I’m ready for you now”.
“Alright Sweetheart, just relax for me, okay?” Dean asks as he moves to hover above you, lips centimeters away from yours. He lines his member up with your entrance and kisses you as the tip slips in.
He eases into you at an incredibly slow pace, bottoming out with a hiss. The stretch is painful and has your eyes watering.
Dean pulls away from the kiss and swipes a small tear away from under your eye. “I’ll be so gentle sweetheart, I promise”.
You nod and whine as he starts to slowly thrust in and out. He presses his thumb against your clit, tracing small circles on the sensitive nub.
“Oh baby, you’re doing so good”, Dean praises.
At this you feel a heat pool in the bottom of your stomach and the pain quickly turns to pleasure. You let out a small groan as Dean’s pace becomes more intense.
“Oh fuck baby, let it all out”, he commands, groping at your tits.
Your eyes roll back as the coil in your stomach starts to tighten. Your arms wrap around Dean’s strong frame and leave scratches along his back.
This spurs Dean on and he trails the hand grabbing at your chest down to your hips. He’s now pulling you into his already harsh thrusts. He lets out a guttural groan, his hazel eyes glistening over with lust.
You choke out one last moan and the coil within you snaps. Waves of pleasure are released throughout your body. Dean stills inside of you and his hot seed paints your insides white.
He collapses next to you, panting. “Judging by what I heard I’m pretty sure that was as good for you as it was for me…right?”, he jokes before turning over to wrap an arm around you.
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lucidlivi · 10 months
Text
Chosen For Pleasure Masterlist
Series Warnings: Strong Language, Mature Themes, Angst, Alcohol, Attempted Sexual Assault, Mentions of Drugs/Heavy Drug Use, Neglect, Feelings of Hopelessness
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Part (I)
Part (II)
Part (III)
Part (IV)
Part(V)
Part (VI)
Part (VII)
Part (VIII)
Part (IX)
Part (X)
Part (XI)
Part (XII)
Part (XIII)
Part (XIV)
Part (XV)
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moosealecki · 2 months
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𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖... (𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)
| ・゜゜・.satisfying a request for my best friend, so she can live out her fantasyyyyyy, here’s to you babe. Enjoy.
| pairings; dean x reader
| warnings; insults, aggression, touching, foreplay, smut, after-care
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-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
“Can you for ONCE, make up your mind on just one fucking thing.”
“First off, dean if you want to keep that tongue of yours, I suggest you watch your tone with me.” she rolled her eyes, returning her attention back to the radio, flipping through the stations.
“How about we just not listen to anything?” Sam chimed in from the backseat.
“Shut up assclown.” They both responded in sync. Not even realizing it.
“Oh, absolutely NOT.”
“Don’t you start dean; Taylor is a goddess.”
“I do not care, this is my car, my music, I will not be forced to listen to this shit.”
She ignored his protests, turning up the dial on the volume as she sang loudly to the lyrics. Knowingly it was just annoying the older Winchester even more.
Once they arrived back at the bunker, his ears radiated from the torture of listening to ‘Taylor Swift’ for the last hour. (Y/N) was still humming to the tune of the last song from one of her favorite albums by Taylor. Sam quickly scurried inside to avoid further arguing between them.
Dean made his way to the kitchen, grasping a cold bottle of beer from the fridge. Popping the cap and chugging the liquid down. (Y/N) walking into the kitchen she brushed past him, grabbing a cold Pepsi.
“Why do you have to purposely keep provoking me?”
“I don’t do anything, that sounds like a ‘you’  problem d-e-a-n-o” she taunted, knowing she was just digging further under his skin. Something about his aggressive nature was attractive, but she never admitted that in the open.
Dean would finish off his beer, his green hues never leaving her. She was annoying but feisty, it was attractive, but he ALSO wouldn’t admit that in the open. He would turn to lean against the countertop. “Pft, brat,” he mumbled.
“Excuse me?”
“What?”
“You want to try saying that to my face?” she turned towards him, placing the can down on the counter. She walked over to him until she was now standing directly in front of him.
Dean licked his lips as he arched a brow, he leaned in slightly closer as he mouthed the words this time slower. “I called you a b-r-a-t” he spoke, his eyes looking her up and down for a moment. The deadly silence between them, although the tension was evident.
“Have you guys seen my---oh nope never mind.” Sam beginning to walk into the kitchen, and then immediately turned around to head back to his bedroom.
“ You talk a big game Dean, but we both know you don’t act on shit.” she bit down on her bottom lip.
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Dean had enough of her sassy shit for one night, he grasped her by the throat yanking her up against his lips. The tongue delved between her lips and into her mouth. He would turn her around and force her up onto the counter. His other hand moved up her thigh. Fingers bruising against her flesh. (Y/N) let out a breathy moan when his lips traveled from her own onto her neck, his tongue swirling over her skin and purpling the skin beneath his lips.
(Y/N) pushing him slightly off, her breathing increasing as she wasted no time to slide off her shirt, Dean following her lead as he threw his shirt to the ground. His hands moved back to grasp both sides of her face again, smashing lips together, his hand venturing down from her face to her neck, down her backside to unclasp her bra, letting it fall with ease. His lips moved from her own again to wrap around the nipple of her breasts. Pulling and tugging at it, his other hand pinching at her other nipple, sending stimulation throughout her body. He removed his hand, as he moved to pop the button of her shorts, sliding his hand inside with ease. Meeting the coated wet lace, moving it to the side to see the damage he had caused. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”
“Oh, shut up, and just fuck me.” she protested, as her arms wrapped around his neck, kissing along his neckline. She felt his fingers meet her numb, flicking over it made her wince, biting down on her bottom lip as she arched her back slightly. Dean groaning, his erection building behind his jeans, aching to be released and inside of her. (Y/N) would decide to busy her hands working to undo his belt buckle, then his jeans, using her legs to shift them down. Dean worked his fingers, hooking two inside of her while his thumb rubbed over her sensitive numb.
After a few moments of working her up, Dean was over it, he would remove his hand grasping her thighs again as he forced her up to wrap her legs around him, and he would move to slam her down onto the table. Removed his jeans and then boxers fully, ripping off her shorts and then underwear. Climbing on top of her, he would delve his head down to capture her lips again, one hand moving to grasp her thigh pulling it up and around his waist, his other hand moving to line himself up with her entrance.
He was greeted with a welcoming wetness, sliding the tip slowly inside of her. Worked himself to stretch her walls to get used to his length. “Oh fuck.” She moaned out, “I can go slower if you want?” “No, it’s perfect,” she spoke breathlessly. He did this for a few more moments before she started to rock her hips, wanting him to go faster. Dean getting the idea, as he moved to place both her arms above her head, he would thrust himself deep inside of her, feeling her walls enclose around his hardened length. The pair shared quite a few moans and groanings of pleasure, the table rocked as Dean picked up the pace, his hips rolling into her with ease. Skin clapping against one another, “Oh fuck baby, oh fuck right there—” (Y/N) felt him hit her g-spot perfectly, her cries growing louder, not even caring about who else could hear them. The tension was only climbing between them, which was bound to happen.
The damn of her orgasm exploding around him, once her arms were released, she clawed her nails into the sides of his biceps, leaving her own marking. Dean felt the ocean of her orgasm submerge his member. He would make her ride out her high, moving to take her other leg and placing them both up and against her chest, as he pounded deeper inside of her. Feeling his hardened length throbbing for a release, he moaned out when he finally felt his spurt of hot cum shoots deep inside of her, filling her up to the core.
The sweat dripped from his forehead, as he leaned down after releasing her legs, capturing the taste of her salty tasted lips against his own. His hand moving to grasp her throat again, exchanging tongues, he would part his lips from her own.
Gathering their clothes, Dean needed to clean up the mess they made. Knowing Sam would avoid the kitchen for a good couple of days if he knew what had taken place. He would grasp her hand as he moved to take her back to his bedroom. “You can uh shower, and sleep here. I’ll take the couch.”
“No—uh I mean, can you stay?” she asked in a more relaxed tone of voice. Dean would accept, that after the showers of washing off the moment they had together, they both crawled into the bed. He moved to turn off the table side lamp, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into his chest.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚𝐹𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑠; @lucishellhound @isabellacugliari-blog ☽︎ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
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pinkiebieberpie · 8 months
Note
Can I request the supernatural boys dating witch!reader please <33
i have a moodboard like this with sam!! thank you for the request <3
sam:
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he is willing to learn anything and he will be so good at magic!!
after a while you will be making new spells together,
he is really proud of you "my girlfriend is so powerful, she's just amazing",
silly little dates when you are picking/buying ingredients for spells!!
he will be buying you jewelry made of crystals;
dean:
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he is for some reason really excited about you being a witch,
not so good at magic, that's not his thing,
"i'm a hunter, baby, i don't know much about magic",
but he likes it when you are talking about it,
"it's not boring when you talk about all of this" *heart eyes*;
supernatural masterlist
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queen-of-deans-booty · 6 months
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Three Peas in a Pod
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader x Jared Padalecki (no J2 action)
Word Count: ~1.1k
Warnings: fluff, poly relationship, brief smut (not explicit or detailed but it's there)
Request by anon: Hi so can i request a J2 x reader one shot where the reader is a normal girl who is dating Jensen and Jared but the fan never seeing her face only hear her voice like twice because she is super shy and introverted person but Jensen and Jared convince her to go to a comic con and the fan meet her for the first time and instantaneous like her? Something fluff and romantic between J2 and reader 
Summary: It's crazy to think a celebrity wants you but two of them? Being in a relationship with them is the best thing to happen to you, and all they want to do is tell the world about it.
Square Filled: poly fic (2022) for @spnfluffbingo
Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3
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x
Never in a million years did you think you’d end up in the situation you’re in. It all started when you were out grocery shopping when you ran into Jared Padalecki. He had just given his kids back to his ex-wife when he decided to do some shopping for the week. You had the last of an item in your hand when you barrelled into him, dropping and shattering the item. He felt so bad that he offered to give you his that he grabbed.
It was like something clicked in the air because you two couldn’t get your eyes off each other. You were a stuttering mess but he was so confident in both of you that he asked you out right there and then. It all happened so quickly but when were you going to get another chance like this? You were a small-town girl who was noticed by a huge celebrity.
Of course, you said yes.
He took you on a romantic dinner date overlooking the bustling city. You’re not a talker since you like to keep to yourself, but he kept you talking all night. It’s as if you two were best friends rekindling a friendship. He made you laugh, made you feel beautiful, and was super charming. Supernatural happened to be on your “watch later” list but you’ve seen many spoilers and videos of him and Jensen.
What they said about him is true. He’s super lovable, loves hugs, can make you laugh, is dorky, and loves eating. Being with him makes you feel like you’re the only woman in the world. How can things get better than this?
He took you back to his place for some intimate drinks where his roommate and best friend, Jensen, lives. Jensen is also newly divorced but is open to looking for another relationship if not something temporary. Being in the same room as Sam and Dean Winchester was a little overwhelming but the alcohol dulled those senses so you could enjoy the evening.
Meeting Jared was like love at first sight if you’re into that sort of thing, but meeting Jensen was something completely different… something raw and vulnerable. He tugged you to him subconsciously because he made you feel alive like you could jump off a cliff and be completely fine. You’re not sure if either man felt the same as you were feeling but you weren't going to say anything to them to scare them off.
They set out some games to play while playing an irrelevant TV show in the background. It was friendly at first until the alcohol promoted Jensen to suggest a stripping game. One thing led to another, and the game was long forgotten. The only thing that mattered was the three of you at that moment.
All you could think about was Jared’s lips on your neck, his hand massaging your breast and tugging at your nipples until they were pebbled and ready, Jensen’s tongue on your pussy, and his fingers digging into your thighs. They used you like a cock slut that night but you were more than okay with it. One thing led to another and you’re now dating both of them.
It’s your first polyamorous relationship but you three make it work.
With you having a job that you can work remotely for, they’d take you whenever they had to do interviews, press junkets, and conventions. You’re not one for the spotlight so you’re content with being backstage while they take all the glory. They have yet another convention that they brought you along with, so you’re in the back room watching a video they made recently.
Jensen and Jared talked about serious issues going on in the world currently and how they would take small steps to try and eradicate some of those issues. They are part of a group that works on removing plastic from the ocean, they donate some of their time at food banks and local shelters, and they donate money to groups looking for resources to make the world a better place.
“Listen, these are real-world issues that we need to start taking seriously today. These kinds of events can affect our children and our children’s children,” Jensen says.
“Jar, Jen, dinner is ready,” your voice comes from off-camera.
Jared and Jensen look at each other and just laugh. They’ve been really careful not to give an inkling of their relationship but then things like this happen and it can’t be helped.
“We’ll be right there,” Jared clears his throat.
“We gotta go. That's our girl.”
They leave it at that, and the comment section is raving about them being in a relationship. There are a few other videos where your voice can be heard but you’re never seen. Most of the fans are happy that the boys are happy, and since it’s 2023, being in a poly relationship isn’t that unusual. All of the fans are wondering what you look like but you’re not ready to give that out just yet.
“Hey, we have to go on now,” Jensen says from the door.
You put your phone away and approach Jared with a smile. He pulls you into him and kisses you. He keeps it short and sweet but Jensen is the completely opposite. He kisses you for much longer and in a more intimate way. Jensen is a good kisser with all the practice he’s gotten on you.
“Okay, don’t suffocate her,” Jared playfully says.
“Break a leg, you two,” you grin and watch them leave.
There is a big TV in the back where you can watch what’s going on stage, and you clap when everyone else in the audience does when they walk on. This convention is going like all the others with them telling stories from set, from their lives, and fans asking all kinds of questions. There comes a time when a fan stands up and asks a question regarding you. You knew it was coming sooner or later, and you’re curious how the boys will answer it.
“When are we going to see Y/N? No pressure on you two or her, but just curious.”
“She’s a little camera shy,” Jensen chuckles. “She’s here. She’s backstage but she doesn't really like cameras.”
It’s true, you hate them. Maybe you can give them a little something instead of a full-face reveal. You walk out of the backstage room and over to the edge of the curtains so you’re still hidden from the audience. Jensen and Jared see you creeping up on the curtain, and you stick your hand out to wave at them.
“There she is,” Jared laughs.
Everyone cheers for you which brings a smile to your face. After two seconds, you run back to the room you were in, and Jensen watches you go with a smile on his face.
“We’re working on that part of her,” Jensen jokes.
Maybe one day you’ll be more open to meeting fans and taking pictures because they seem to genuinely love you already, and it’s all thanks to your boys.
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yourmomxx · 10 months
Text
Father of Mine
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father of mine masterlist
summary: All Dean Winchester ever wanted was to protect the people he loved. Sometimes, in order to do that, he had to make hard decisions, Lisa and Ben were the prime example. Years after making another one of those hard decisions, he has to come back to the place where he had left a piece of his heart - only to be constantly reminded of what he had to sacrifice in order to keep his family safe.
warnings: canon violence, child abandonment, swear words, angst, daddy issues, character death, throwing up, this is written like an episode of Supernatural
word count: 8,2k
a/n: I’ve been writing this story for … a year now? I think? And I’ve gotta admit, I am so happy that it is finally out. Everything that I write means incredibly much to me, but this story just holds such a special place in my heart and I am very happy to share it now with you guys. I do hope you like it, and, as always, reblogs are very much appreciated because that way the story gets spread to more people! Now, enjoy!
flashbacks are written in italics
pt1 pt2 pt3
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Cleveland, Ohio 2002
The bar was crowded with people.
Gruffed men wearing leather jackets and intoxicated women in crop-tops were all sprawled out around an alcohol booth in the middle.
In another corner, currently bathed in purple and orange spotlight, a guy with an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and a bucket-hat was giving a lousy cover of ‘God save the Queen’ by Sex Pistols.
♫ ♪ “Don't be told what you want. Don't be told what you need. There's no future, no future, no future for you!” ♫ ♪
On one of the way too small bar chairs, sipping a burning mix of whiskey and ginger ale, was sitting Dean Winchester, and he was pissed.
Pissed at his stupid father, who was acting like Dean was a 15-year-old with no common sense whatsoever, pissed at the goddamn ghost that had found an incredible pleasure in almost ripping his fingers off his hands, and pissed at stupid Sam for just getting up one day and leaving him - didn’t matter if that had been months ago.
And with every drink that Dean downed, he started feeling more like “Dad can kiss my ass” instead of “Dad has been doing this much longer than you and just knows better”. Meaning, he should probably slow down.
But whatever.
His Dad could kiss his ass.
♫ ♪ “Oh when there's no future, how can there be sin? We're the flowers in the dustbin!” ♫ ♪
“Why, hello,” he suddenly heard a sweet voice next to him say.
Dean turned his head and was met face to face with friendly, glimmering eyes.
Those, just as the voice that had spoken to him, belonged to a young woman who seemed to have just appeared next to him.
He moved his gaze up and down her body.
Apart from her eyes, she had smooth skin, that was covered with glowing sweatpearls, most likely because of the stuffy air around them.
Or maybe, just like Dean, she had had a couple drinks too many.
A few, fine strands of her shoulder-length hair were tousled, likely from combing her hands through it.
He licked his lips. “Well, hello you. With whom do I have the pleasure?”
He was laying on thick and he knew that, but it’s not like he could care about it.
“Gloria. Richards.” She was speaking in a soft, honey voice, and Dean urged himself to focus on her face, and not the way her neck and chest were lightly gleaming from the thin layer of sweat covering them.
“What’s yours?”
Dean Winchester.
But no, that wasn’t his name. Not today at least. If he could just remember what was. And the drinks didn’t exactly make thinking easier.
“Dean Hansley.”
Gloria smiled again.
What a nice smile she had.
"Dean Hansley." She tasted the words, let them burn on her tongue. "That's a nice name."
And then she sat down at the stool next to him, without waiting for him to invite her, and she started talking.
And he talked back with her.
And time went by, and she kept finishing and ordering drinks, that Dean all offered to pay, and she never refused.
By now, the guy in the Hawaiian shirt had been thrown off the karaoke stage, after heavily throwing up into one of the other guest's handbags, halfway through a tedious ballad about life, and love, and its misery.
The only source of music was coming from the colorful jukebox next to the pool board.
A couple drunk-off-their-asses idiots, trying to play billiards, were loudly roaring along to AC/DC’s ‘You shook me all night long’.
♫ ♪ “She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean, she was the best damn woman that I ever seen!” ♫ ♪
Gloria was still sitting next to him, although a bit closer, and she was sipping at her third drink he had bought her tonight.
And damn, that girl had high tolerance.
Dean thought she was amazing.
“That thing with your family sucks, really.” She scrunched up her nose in slight discomfort.
Dean let out a humorless laugh and took a sip of the whiskey he was still stuck with. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
Yes, he had told her about his - family issues. But so what?
It felt nice having someone listening to him for a change. Someone who wasn’t his family, didn’t even know them, and wouldn’t try to disregard his frustration by telling him to ‘put himself in his father’s shoes for once’.
Gloria finished her drink and used the palm of her hand to wipe the sweat off her forehead.
Dean tried his best to not think too much about her knee touching his, her being so close him.
“The air in here is terrible,” she said, heavily emphasizing the last word.
Dean’s attention was turned to her again. He knew she had said something before that, but he hadn’t been able to catch it, too lost in his own mind.
He kind of felt bad for not listening to her.
Dean threw a look around.
“Yeah, it’s getting pretty hot in here,” he agreed, feeling pearls of sweat rolling off the little hairs on his neck.
Gloria looked directly into his eyes, then up his body, down his body, before settling on his eyes again.
She bit the inside of her cheek. Then her lip.
“I mean,” she slowly spoke, “we could continue this conversation somewhere else if you want. Where there’s not so many people and the air doesn’t taste like salt.”
♫ ♪ “You really took me and you shook me all night long! Ooh, you shook me all night long!” ♫ ♪
Hell yeah.
A boyish grin started forming on his face.
“An offer like that - how could I say no?”
༺ 。 ° ୨❀୧ ° 。 ༻
Now
“Read it again for me.”
Dean was staring straight ahead onto the road, his gaze hard and jaw clenched.
Sam sighed and opened the newspaper again, for what had to be the seventh time now since they had first found it.
They were both sitting in the Impala, Castiel in the backseat. The angel could have just flipped his wings and flown to the destination they were headed, but he had insisted to take the drive with them, claiming he had “nothing better to do anyway”.
“St. George, Louisiana,” Sam started to read.
“In the night of Wednesday to Thursday, a young man was found dead in his room in Saint George’s Children’s Home. The 17-year-old Roy Kendall hadn’t come out of his room the first half of the day, and when a woman of the working personnel - whose name has been withheld - came to check on him, she discovered his mutilated body draped out on the bed. According to the police, the young man’s rib cage had been compressed with such force that his ribs were broken and had managed to pierce through the young man’s internal organs, which resulted in him slowly bleeding out internally. Authorities are still in the dark about the exact details of the tragedy and the questions of “Why” and, particularly, “How” something like this could even be possible. The head of the Children’s Care Institution …, blah blah blah.”
Sam purposefully drifted off and ended his reading session therefore. He folded the newspaper back together and stuffed it into the Impala’s globe compartment.
“And that’s it, I am not reading this again. Next thing you know, I’m going to dream about squished organs and ribcages.”
He shuddered.
“I just don’t get it, man,” Dean said, ignoring his brother’s complaints, but he didn’t seem to address anyone in particular.
“I mean, I checked everything, Sammy. No demonic omens, no strategic killings, no recent disappearances. That place was all white picket fences and summer barbecues when we- ”
He was quick to cut himself off.
Sam threw his brother a side glance, but decided to not address his slip-up.
“Well, Dean, sometimes monsters just … turn up, you know.” This time Sam turned his head to get a proper look at his older brother.
“Maybe it’s just passing through, or simply moved there from somewhere else. They aren’t exactly tied to a specific place.”
Dean ran his hand over his face and through his hair in distress. “Out of all places, why there?” He muttered in a low tone.
And again, he was more talking to himself than anyone else.
“I don’t understand.” Cas was suddenly talking from the back seat. “What is in this Children’s Home that is of so much importance to you both?”
Dean was quick to answer a “Nothing,” but Castiel didn’t quite believe him.
Sam turned in his seat to face the angel.
“We were working a case near there a while back,” he simply explained.
Cas frowned, still not quite convinced, but he decided to let the topic rest. For now, at least.
“I understand,” he said. “Then it would probably be of benefit for you to stick with your past aliases. Just in case anyone there should recognize you.”
“Yeah. Maybe,” Dean vaguely answered, but he seemed trapped deep in his own thoughts.
༺ 。 ° ୨❀୧ ° 。 ༻
Black Hawk, Colorado 2002
“To listen to this voicemail, call-”
A dial tone sounded. The message was a few months old.
“Hey, Dean, it’s uh … it’s Gloria. You know, Gloria Richards, from a few nights ago?” A humorless chuckle was heard on the other end of the line.
“Though, guys like you don’t usually remember their casual one-night hookups. So I’ll cut straight to the chase.” One heavy inhale.
“I’m pregnant. And I know the chances of you wanting anything to do with me are zero to negative six, but I just wanted to-”
“To delete this voicemail, press 2.”
A tone.
“Voicemail deleted.”
“To listen to this voicema-”
The woman on the other end sounded more outraged this time, even though occasional cracks or hiccups in her voice gave away that she had been heavily crying moments before. Maybe still was.
“Hello Dean, it’s me again. You know, I didn’t expect you to jump up high at the news, but ignoring me?” She scoffed. “That’s a different type of low.”
She sniffled. “I’m just calling to tell you I’ve decided to keep the baby. So you can still change your mind, if you-”
“To delete this voicemail, press-” “Voicemail deleted.”
“To listen to th-”
“Hello, Dean. It’s Gloria. Again.”
This time, she seemed calmer, which could be reasoned with the tiredness her voice was radiating.
“I suppose I’m still kind of hoping that you will call me back. Or even pick up.” She sighed.
“I wanted to tell you that she’s perfectly healthy and growing. That’s right. She. Our baby is going to be a-”
“To delete this-” ”Voicemail deleted.”
John Winchester stared at the small phone in his hand and pressed a button.
“You have no more voicemails.”
That moment, Dean came bursting into the motel room, looking around the empty shelves and patting up and down his jacket- and jeans-pockets.
“Hey Dad, do you know where my phone is? I heard it ringing,” Dean asked.
“Yes, just some spam-callers,” John neatly lied. “I took care of it, but I’m gonna put it out of service, just in case.”
Dean looked at him and for a moment, John thought his son would grow suspicious, but he just nodded. “Alright. Thanks, Dad.”
John nodded and Dean left the room with his bag in hand. When he was certain Dean wouldn’t come back, John took the phone apart and crashed the SIM Card on the nightstand with the lamp.
Then he put the pieces in the bin, took his duffel bag and followed his son to the car.
༺ 。 ° ୨❀୧ ° 。 ༻
Now
The St. George’s Children’s Home was somewhat of a small castle, kept in a renaissance style.
Around a large courtyard, archways connected four round-towers, which were slightly higher than the rest of the castle. The walls were painted a pale yellow.
Trees grew in the gardens around the castle, flowers in planted beds, and as far as Dean could remember, there was a hedge maze behind the walls, not visible from the gateway.
They had parked the Impala in one of the parking spaces next to the tall, elegant terrain fence.
Sam and Dean were wearing black suits and their fake badges, Castiel - as always - stuck with the trench coat.
Dean was eyeing the building suspiciously.
In fact, he had been doing so for the last three minutes, in which they had all sat in the Impala in complete silence.
Sam threw a quick, concerned glance at his brother before clearing his throat.
“You really wanna do this?”, he asked quietly.
“No,” Dean answered and opened the car door, “But it’s not like we have a choice, right?”
Sam sighed and did the same, not before exchanging a quick, apprehensive look with Castiel, who still didn’t quite know what was going on.
The castle’s inside was considerably more modern than its outside.
With brightly-colored walls and furniture, and minimalistic decorations all over.
It seemed cozy.
They were headed for the office of the youth center’s director, Maria Whitlock. Dean remembered exactly where that was. Down the hall, left. Past a few closed bedroom doors. Last door at the end of the corridor.
Dean cleared his throat and knocked on the door, Sam right behind him. Castiel had left before they had entered the castle, claiming to look for a suitable Motel nearby, and telling them to contact him if they needed his help.
There was a beat of silence before they heard a woman’s voice reply “Yes?” and entered the office.
Maria Whitlock was an elderly woman, with dark red hair that she kept in a low bun. She was around a head smaller than Dean, and wearing a grey blouse combined with a wine red jacket and a black pencil skirt.
When she heard them enter the room, she looked up from a few papers she was filing, and her face immediately fell.
“Hello, Maria.” Sam greeted her.
“Dean and Sam Winchester,” she breathed out, startled.
“I never thought I would see you two again.”
Dean felt a sting in his chest.
“Yeah, well,” Sam said and tried a clumsy smile. A heavy silence followed, and Dean shifted uncomfortably.
Maria frowned. “Not to seem impolite, but what are the two of you doing here?” She asked.
Sam cleared his throat awkwardly.
“We, uhm, we heard about Roy and we thought that, maybe, we should just check if everything was alright and, of course, speak our condolences. You know, for old time’s sake.”
She nodded and closed the pen. “Yes, right. Roy. I completely forgot that they put that in the paper.”
A look of dark grief fell over her face and her gaze drifted into nothingness. She suddenly looked much older than she was.
Dean cleared his throat. “I gave you my number, Maria,” he spoke. “If you would’ve called, we could’ve been here sooner.”
She blinked rapidly, pulling herself out of her thoughts and looked at him for a second before she replied.
“I know, I know, but to be honest - it slipped my mind, in between all of this … chaos and tragedy.”
While she was talking, she got up from her chair and walked around the table, getting a clearer view at Sam and Dean.
“Of course,” Sam hastily said. “No worries. We are very sorry for your loss.”
She gave him a sad smile. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
Dean was glad that it had been Sam who had spoken up. He wasn’t very good at that sort of things. Nor did he aspire to be.
“You said you were here because of Roy’s …. passing,” Maria continued, and the brothers nodded.
“But that would mean that this was some sort of - unnatural incident.”
Sam swallowed hard.
“Well,” he started, trying to find the right words that would not trigger a breakdown for the woman, “we saw the article in the newspaper and thought that we would just have a look at it. The circumstances of Roy’s passing aren’t exactly common for a person his age, after all.”
Or for any person, really.
She nodded lazily. “Yes. I suppose you are right.”
Dean could swear that another minute of awkward silence between them would probably kill him, so he took it upon himself to prevent it before it started.
“I get that this is hard, Maria,” he said, “But if we could maybe ask you some questions? Maybe speak to the person that found him?”
She sniffled.
Oh dear God.
“Yes, yes, of course.” Her voice was a bit higher than before, and her hands grabbed for a handkerchief lying on the table.
“Uhm, the woman who found him was one of my responsible supervisors, Betty Langston. She should be present in the building today, but the last time I spoke to her, she was still pretty shaken up. I mean, who can blame her? I can’t even imagine what it must have been like, seeing that poor boy lying on his bed, just- ”
She broke off and a sob escaped her lips, before she buried her face in the kerchief.
“I’m sorry,” she cried, “I’m sorry, it’s just - he was such a kind boy. He had his whole life ahead of him. And the way that he had to go…”
She raised her head and shook it, eyes reddened and filled with tears.
“I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.”
“We understand, Maria,” Sam spoke in a comforting, low voice.
And Dean added, “And I promise we will find whatever did this and make sure this happens to no one ever again.”
She forced herself to a smile.
“Thank you, boys. May the angels be with you.”
Dean forbid himself a snort.
“Thank you for your time, Maria. We will let you know when we know more,” Sam said and left the office.
He wouldn’t risk making her cry again by bothering her with questions about her dead fosterling.
Dean smiled at Maria and turned to follow his brother, but she stopped him.
“Dean.”
He turned to face her.
“You do know that it won’t be possible for you to investigate here, without … encountering a certain someone.”
Dean straightened his shoulders.
“Yes, I know.”
“Have you thought about it? What you will say to her?”
“Gotta admit, I haven’t.”
She hummed and nodded. Dean noticed that she had resumed her usual upright position, and if he hadn’t just witnessed it, he probably would not know that she had been crying.
“I should warn you,” she said gently, “It probably won’t be easy.”
“I honestly didn’t expect it to be.”
She smiled a gentle smile at him and he returned it, before finally leaving the room and joining his brother in the hallway.
༺ 。 ° ୨❀୧ ° 。 ༻
Lewiston, Michigan 2004
The first time he had read it, John Winchester had been drunk. He had spared a quick glance at it after coming home from a bar, before throwing himself onto the motel bed and passing out.
The second time he had read it, he had been sober, but suffering from a skull-splitting headache.
The third time he read it, it was simply to make sure his hungover mind wasn’t making any of this up. But no, the words on the newspaper stayed the same, grinning up at him with a sickening smirk that made his stomach turn.
In the small corner of the left page, where the lesser important news were usually placed, throned the bold-printed, black words:
24-year-old woman dies in tragic car accident, leaves 1-year-old daughter behind
No. God, no.
He read it again. Read the headline, read the article, the name that had been shortened but to him unmistakable: Gloria R.
R. Just like Richards. Gloria Richards.
There was a picture placed right next to the text, held in color, of a young woman that was clearly putting on a smile for the camera.
John slammed the newspaper on the round table.
“Damn it!” He yelled.
And in that moment, John was grateful that Dean had offered to go on a coffee run.
He was ‘going on a quick hunt’. That’s what he told Dean.
He was ‘going on a quick hunt and if anyone needed anything, they should contact Dean’. That’s what he told Bobby. And everyone that reached his voicemail.
Cleveland, Ohio. That’s where he was going. He had some business to attend to.
Central Nebraska
To say that Ellen Harvelle wasn’t delighted about John Winchester showing up inside the Roadhouse would be quite an understatement.
She was furious.
John paid attention to enter the wooden cabin carefully. He didn’t expect Ellen to be pleased by his sudden presence, especially considering their last encounter with each other.
It was a random Wednesday afternoon, and there wasn’t anyone seated in the Roadhouse, except for Ellen herself, who was busy cleaning the bar with a half-wet kitchen towel.
The brunette woman looked up for a quick second, as a form of formality, before she dedicated her attention back onto the dirty surface.
“I’ll be with you in a secon-” Then she realized. Stopped. Did a double take.
“Winchester.” The word was dripping from her lips with loathing.
“Hello, Ellen,” he started, but she cut him off.
“What do you want?” Her question was blunt and her tone cold and unwelcoming.
John cleared his throat and stepped from one foot to the other. He had to sell his story good, if Ellen wouldn’t get on board with his proposition, he had nobody else to go to.
“Look, Ellen. I get that you’re mad- ”
“Mad?” She let out a short, sour laugh.
“Mad doesn’t even begin to describe what I am feeling towards you, Winchester. Try hatred. Pure disgust.” She scoffed again.
“You must have a death wish, because I couldn’t think of any other possible reason why you would drag your dumbass out here again. ”
John swallowed hard. She was right. Who was he to just show up here again? After what happened?
But there was no turning back now, he had to go through with this.
“You’re right.” He spoke in a low tone to try and seem less intimidating and also attempt to soothe her temper towards him.
“I am sorry about what happened, Ellen. If I could go back and do it any different, then I would.”
A lie. She knew that. He knew that she knew that. Still - she didn’t interrupt, just kept glaring at him, so he decided to continue.
“But unfortunately, I can’t. And I know you have every right and reason to hate me now.”
Agreeing and empathizing with her.
“But there is something extremely important that I need to ask of you.”
Again, he didn’t have much time to talk, before Ellen raised her voice.
“You damned son of a bitch!”, she yelled, tossing the kitchen towel onto the counter with such force, the leftover water splashed around.
“You ain’t got no right walking in here, after what you pulled, and ask a goddamned favor of me!”
Her voice was loud in the silence of the Roadhouse and John lifted his hands up in defense.
“Ellen, please! Listen to me!”, he pleaded. Ellen wasn’t yelling at him anymore, but her jaw was still clenched and her entire body tense.
“I wouldn’t be here if I had any other options. Like you said, I must have a Deathwish to show up here. And I understand that. But you are the only person that I can trust with this. You can toss me out all you want after. You can yell, and scream, and punch me, and shoot at me. Just please, hear me out first. ”
There was silence, where John just stood there, his hands still raised in the air in front of him, and Ellen grinding her teeth as she thought about what to do now.
Because by God, did she hate him. And a part of her wanted to take a rifle and first shoot a bullet into his feet and then his di-
But on the other hand, she could not recall a time that John Winchester had ever gotten himself into a position to beg.
No, he was too proud for that. So whatever he wanted must be goddamn important for him, really.
“Tell me what you need, Winchester,” Ellen said eventually, “And let me decide afterwards.”
Her body language didn’t show one sign of hospitality still, but John interpreted her words as somewhat of a good sign.
Hopefully.
༺ 。 ° ୨❀୧ ° 。 ༻
Now
After their talk with Maria, Sam and Dean settled on questioning Betty Langston.
In the middle of the wall in the entrance hall, a big frame with the pictures, names and duties of the working staff was hung up.
Above the name ‘Betty Langston’ was a picture of a friendly looking woman in her mid-twenties, with a pointed nose and blonde strands of hair framing her face.
Underneath, the duties “Social Worker” and “Deputy Manager” were listed.
When they knocked on the door which was labeled “staff”, a young man opened and told them that Betty Langston was currently positioned on the second floor.
Dean wanted to take the elevator, but Sam dragged him up the stairs.
“It will be faster,” he guaranteed, and Dean just rolled his eyes with a groan.
The hallways on the second floor were surprisingly wide, with doors placed across each other in a zig zag pattern.
Here and there were a few paintings on the walls, old and new, and green neon signs pointing toward the emergency exit.
They met Betty after they turned around the first corner. She stood in front of a pinboard and was currently hanging up new posters.
Her hair was different from the picture, slightly longer now ending halfway down her back, and copper colored with only a few blonde highlights.
The brothers made their way over to her and flashed their fake FBI-badges when she let off her work and shifted her attention to them.
“Hello, my name is David Shields, my partner’s name is Jarvis Stark,” introduced Dean. “Are you Betty Langston?”
The young woman gaped at them, slightly caught off guard. “Uhm yes, that’s me,” she eventually got out and lowered her arms. “What can I do for you?”
Dean caught a glimpse of the writing on the poster. It was a few phone numbers, and in dark blue, a text above read: ‘DON’T HESITATE TO ASK FOR HELP!’
“We’re here to ask you about Roy Kendall,” Sam carefully approached, “We understand that you are the one who found him.”
Dean couldn’t help but notice how Betty Langston’s eyes shifted to the floor and she nervously trailed her fingers up and down the paper in her hand.
“Um yes, I … I found him.” Her voice got small and she swallowed hard.
“But what does the FBI want with that? I thought it was a wild animal.”
“Given the unusual occurrence of Roy’s death, we thought it necessary to at least have a look at this case and find out what we can,” Sam said.
“That doesn’t have to mean anything, though,” Dean quickly tried to soothe her when he noticed the tears springing in the woman’s eyes. “Exactly,” Sam hastily agreed. “Only a few questions, just in case.”
Betty nodded and blinked away her tears. “Okay,” she quietly said. Sam reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out his notebook and a pen.
“Did Roy mention something … I don’t know, unusual before he died?” Sam asked, clicking the pen and bringing his notepad in position. The young woman hesitated.
“Well, not that I know of,” she eventually said, “But, you see, kids at that age … they don’t talk to us adults much anymore. If you want to know something about Roy, you better ask his friends.”
Dean furrowed his eyebrows. “His friends?” He repeated. She nodded. “Mhm.”
“And, uh - who are his friends, if I may ask?” Sam tuned in again. Betty thought for a second and then clicked her tongue. “Well, there’s Cassandra, Cassandra Claire,” she said and started counting the listed names on her fingers. “And, uhm, Finnegan Beckett.” Sam repeated the children’s names under his breath as he quickly wrote them down.
“And Y/N Winchester,” Betty finished.
Sam abruptly stopped writing at the ‘n’ and looked up. He felt Dean visibly tense and shift next to him.
The younger brother just put on a smile and folded the small notepad back into the inner pocket of his jacket. But not before completely writing out the last name on the list.
“Thank you so much, Miss Langston, you helped us a lot. We will let you know if there are any more questions. And, our condolences,” he added.
She shyly smiled back at him and slowly continued gathering thumbtacks to hang up her posters, and the brothers left.
Sam waited until they were out of hearing range, then turned to Dean. “So…that was something,” he carefully started.
“What do you mean?”
Sam threw him a look. “You know what I mean. The witness list. Roy’s friends. That last name…”
Dean sighed heavily. Sam waited for him to say something. And when he didn’t, Sam just shook his head but decided to not stress it any further.
“So, where to now?” He asked instead.
Dean took a look at his watch. “The morgue, I’d say. As far as I know they’re closing soon, and a dead body is not exactly the first thing I need to see in the morning, so-”
Sam nodded in agreement. “Yeah, alright. Sounds good.”
They made their way out of the castle.
“You want to take Castiel?” Sam questioned when he rounded the car.
“No,” Dean decided firmly and opened the driver’s door. “Remember what happened last time? Exactly. I don’t need Cas smelling some dead guy again.”
Sam grinned at the memory. With a creak, the Impala gave in to their weight as they sat down, and the gravel gnashed under her tires when they drove off.
༺ 。 ° ୨❀୧ ° 。 ༻
Central Nebraska 2006
Roughly, the dark minivan tuckered over the bumpy earth of the pathetic excuse of a road, and Dean’s insides flinched with every squeak the old car made.
When they finally came to a stop, he tossed the keys somewhere and maybe slammed the door with a bit more force than necessary. A lot more.
“This is humiliating,” he grumbled, as he took in the atrocious excuse of a vehicle they just stepped out of. He missed his Baby.
Sam ignored him, and stepped forward, towards the old wooden – house? Shack? – the mysterious phone number on their dad’s cell had led them to.
The huge letters ROADHOUSE flaunted above them, and Dean thought that these were probably made to light up when the sun disappeared.
The rest of the house looked abandoned, frankly, from the outside, and that, in combination with the four-month-old voicemail, made Dean not like his odds very much. The chances that this Ellen chick was still alive, knowing what his father had needed her for, were slim in his mind.
Or hell, maybe she just called from here, got the phone from some rando, and got on her merry way when she realized John wasn’t calling back. It’s probably what he would’ve done.
Safe to say, Dean didn’t like their odds. Even less so when they entered the eerie quiet of the bar, and spotted a man lying unconscious, probably dead, on the pool table.
Dean felt his shoulders stiffen. He didn’t like this one bit, and every second he spent here made the alarm in his head shrill even louder than before.
Dean only just turned to take a closer look at one of the shelves, when he felt something hard dig into his lower back, and heard an all too familiar clicking sound.
Dean closed his eyes. “Please tell me that is a gun.”
“No, I’m just very happy to see you,” came the fast answer from a very snarking - and female? - voice.
In one swift motion, Dean whirled around, grabbed the barrel, ripped it out of his attacker’s hand, and uncocked it. The bullet fell to the ground with an echoing clatter.
Dean almost smirked triumphantly at the blonde girl in front of him, when he felt a sudden, blinding pain in his face.
And if Dean had thought pulling up in a 30-year-old, barely functional van, of all things was humiliating, he didn’t calculate how it would feel to be absolutely sucker punched by a girl, not even as old as him.
Aside from the obvious nosebleed, his ego took a severe bruise.
“Sam! Little help here!” He called, hand still holding his hurting face.
The door swung open, and Sam walked out, hands raised to his head, a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry Dean,” he said, “I’m a little tied up right now.”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, as he watched another woman with dark brown hair follow his brother close behind, a revolver held to his head in fair warning.
He would be impressed, if his vision wasn’t swimming right now.
The older woman behind Sam furrowed her brows. “Wait, Sam? Dean?” She asked, exchanging looks with kick-ass Blondie in front of him. “Winchester?”
There was a beat, before the brothers pressed out a unison “Yeah?”
“Son of a bitch.”
“Mom, you know these guys?” Dean’s head hurt with how much he was swinging it around to keep up.
“Yeah, I think these are John Winchester’s boys.” And that made Dean perk up.
The woman let out a laugh as she lowered her weapon.
A few minutes later, Dean was served with an iced cloth for his nose, and he and Sam seated themselves on a few of the bystanding bar chairs.
The brunette woman, who had threatened Sam, turned out to be the mysterious Ellen, whose voicemail on their dad’s phone they followed here. Jo, her daughter, and also the kick-ass blonde that had held the rifle to Dean’s back, looked about as unknowing about the whole situation as the brothers did.
Turns out Ellen had contacted John about the demon he was hunting. Said she could help him with it. Why John had never mentioned her, or her daughter, she didn’t say. Told them to ask him themselves. Dean didn’t say anything to that.
“So why exactly do we need your help?”, Dean asked, repositioning the cloth on his face.
Ellen scoffed. “Hey, don’t do me any favors. If you don’t want my help, fine.” There was a snarking edge to her voice, and Dean started to realize why his father would associate with her.
“Don’t let the door smack your ass on the way out,” she continued. “But John wouldn’t have sent you, if–“
There it was.
Ellen stood straighter. A haunted look crossed her eyes. “He didn’t send you.” It wasn’t a question.
Dean looked away.
“He’s alright, isn’t he?” Dean hadn’t known Ellen Harvelle for very long, but even he could sense the way her voice wavered. And know that she was a smart enough woman to not truly believe what she was asking.
“No.” Sam cleared his throat, and the simple word echoed through the deafening silence. “No, he’s not. We think the demon did it. Got to him before he got to it.” The thankful feeling of not being the one to have to tell her what happened felt like a sin in Dean’s gut. Then again, what’s one more on his plate.
“I’m sorry,” Ellen said. It’s what everyone said.
“It’s alright. We’re good.”
Ellen didn’t believe him, he saw it in her eyes. But she didn’t bother him more about it, either.
“So, look, if you can help us,” Sam said, and Dean threw him a look that showed just how much he wanted to smack his little brother across the face, “we’d be real happy about all the help we can get.”
Ellen’s lips twisted. “We can’t help you.”
Is this lady for real-
“But he can.”
And then the dead man stood up from the pool table.
Ash was a tech freak, with a haircut like Billy Ray Cyrus and the mouth of a southern cowboy. Jo called him a genius. Dean didn’t know what to think of that.
Still, he had passed him their dad’s journal, told him to go nuts, and Ash had drooled over John Winchester’s handiwork like a child over a lollipop.
Ash had left with the journal and the promise of new information in the time of fifty-one hours.
Dean thought that was long enough time to take a drink.
Jo Harvelle was a pretty woman. When she wasn’t threatening him with a rifle or punching him in the face, that was. Her soft, blonde curls fell long over her shoulders, and those jeans did wonders to her curves.
Dean started conversing with her. While he had moved to one of the tables, Sam had stayed with Ellen at the bar. He found out that her father died, a long time ago. In the back of his mind, a mean voice cackled at the irony. He paid his sympathies.
Then, suddenly, one of the doors to the backrooms flew open, and a small whirlwind of colorful fabric and y/h/c hair came dashing into the room.
“Aunty Ellen, Aunty Ellen! Look what I made!”
Dean’s head whipped around at the sound of the high-pitched voice and he spotted a small girl, not older than five years probably, squeezing herself behind the bar table. When he noticed Ellen bowing her head, he figured that the little girl had probably reached her destined spot next to her.
Dean, though he would never admit it, was an easily curious person, so he followed Jo on her way to the bar and leaned slightly over the tablewood to catch a glimpse at the small intruder.
Little Lady was tugging at Ellen’s pantleg, and expectantly holding up a colored paper for her to look at.
“Look at what I drew, Auntie Ellen!” she repeated, in that same excited tone as before, when she had stormed into the room.
Dean watched as Ellen abandoned her washcloth somewhere behind her and crouched down to meet with the little girl eye-to-eye, as she inspected her drawing.
“That’s so amazing, baby, is that us?” The girl nodded, her pigtails wiggling up and down as she bopped her head enthusiastically.
“Yes, that is you, and that is Jo, and that is me. And look, I made my own fingerprint!” She dashed her finger into a spot on the paper, and then proudly held up the red-colored tip to shove it in Ellen’s face.
The woman had a wide, genuine smile on her face. “I can see that, baby, well done, it looks so nice!” She praised. “How about we hang it up there next to the menu?”
The girl nodded her head again, and let Ellen scoop her up gently. Only then, when Little Lady was at height with them, she seemed to notice the strangers standing in the room.
In the matter of a second, Dean saw her whole demeanor shift from bubbly and open, to a more closed off version, sinking further into Ellen’s embrace and clutching the fabrics of her shirt. Something about it made Dean’s heart sting.
“Auntie Ellen?” The girl tried to whisper, but Dean had learned soon that children were terrible whisperers, “Who is that?”
Ellen looked first to Sam, then Dean, and back at the little girl in her arms. “Those are friends of Jo and me, sweetheart. Their names are Sam-“ Dean’s little brother gave a wave and a smile when Ellen introduced him. “-and Dean.”
Dean grinned and carefully stretched his hand out. “Very nice to meet you, Little Lady. Who am I speaking to, may I ask?” He laid a formal accent on his voice, one that he knew had always made Sam laugh when he was a child. It was an olive branch, but something in him hoped she would grab it.
The small giggle that Little Lady let out made Dean’s heart bloom with a warmth he didn’t know he was able to feel.
“My name’s Y/N,” she said. With a pointed look at Dean’s still outstretched hand, Ellen murmured in her ear, “And what do we do when someone gives us their hand to shake?”
Y/N nuzzled her face into the crook of Ellen’s neck, and Dean almost drew his hand back again, when a small warmth settled into his palm and closed around it.
He smiled at the girl and shook her hand. As they both pulled back, Dean twisted his hand around and huffed. “Ouff, someone has got a firm grip! Your Auntie Ellen teach you that?” Y/N grinned proudly at him and nodded her head. Then she held up her hand and showed him four fingers. “I’m already this old!”
Dean gasped. “Really? Well, that is a great age, no wonder you are so strong!”
Y/N was beaming now.
She didn’t hide in Ellen’s neck again.
“So, what about that picture now?” Ellen bounced the girl on her hip once, and it seemed like she was snapped out of a trance. Determinedly, she pointed at a space next to a hung-up blackboard. Dean figured Ellen usually wrote her daily specials on that.
The woman made a few steps over where Y/N had led her and gestured toward an already hung drawing of blue water and grey – fish? – above it, that was already taped to the wall.
“But we already put a picture there. We would have to remove that one if you want your new drawing to hang here.” The girl shrugged, and already reached for a roll of clean tape on the shelf.
“That’s okay, I don’t like dolphins all that much anymore anyway,” she explained nonchalantly. “I will just put it in my drawing box.”
Dean watched as Ellen carefully picked the old drawing from the wall to make space for the new one. He was so caught up in the scenery, he almost didn’t notice how Sam was scooting closer to him.
“You know who she is?” Sam asked. Dean turned his attention to his brother.
“Well, her name’s Y/N,” Dean answered simply. Sam didn’t roll his eyes at him, but it was a close call.
Dean just shrugged. “Guess she isn’t Ellen’s. Otherwise, she wouldn’t call her Auntie.” He pitched the last word high, to mimic the child’s voice.
Sam furrowed his brows as they watched Ellen and the small girl.
“Makes you wonder,” he said, “What she’s doing here.”
Dean just hummed. He made brief eye contact with Y/N, as she stole a look in his direction, but she averted her eyes quickly, as if she had been caught.
Dean found himself slightly smiling.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sam looking at him. His brother was grinning.
“You love that kid.” It was a statement.
Dean scoffed. “Oh, shut up, I don’t even know her. Also, I love kids, plural.” He added.
Sam nodded, that smile still on his lips. Dean ignored him.
“Come on, ask him. Don’t be shy.” Ellen and Y/N had finished putting up her drawing and were now standing closer to them again. Ellen was still carrying the girl on her hip and had bent down to whisper to her.
Y/N had buried her face in Ellen’s shirt again, clearly shy to say something.
“He ain’t gonna bite you,” Ellen said, nudging her. “Go on.”
Y/N lifted her head, and shyly looked at Dean. Her eyes were flickering all over him, but never exactly to his face.
“Doyouwantodrawwithme?” She spluttered. Dean’s eyebrows shot up.
“Don’t think he understood that. Try a bit slower. You can do this, come on,” Ellen encouraged her.
Y/N clutched her shirt.
“Do you want to draw with me?” She asked, head lowered and looking at her fingers. Her voice was quiet, but to Dean it felt as if she had shouted that sentence.
He felt warm inside. “Of course I want to.”
Y/N’s head shot up, and Dean Winchester had seen many beautiful things in his lifetime, but the gleaming eyes of that small child before him had to be at the top of the list. He never wanted to look at anything else.
Ellen set her down and pointed at a table in the corner of the room.
“Her colors and paper are already set up. Every day, before we officially open,” she explained with a look at Dean, and he nodded. While Sam got comfortable on one of the bar chairs, he made his way over to where Y/N had already set up her coloring tools and begun drawing on a piece of yellow paper.
Her tongue was sticking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration. Dean pulled out a chair and sat down next to her.
“What are you drawing?” He asked, stretching his neck to take a closer look. Y/N leaned back and showed him her creation. Lines of red and yellow. Maybe a tomato? An apple? He turned his head. From that perspective maybe?
“It’s Lighting McQueen!” Y/N told him triumphantly. “I saw cars with Jo.”
Dean nodded. So no apple. He also wasn’t going to point out the girl’s grammar. She was only four after all. And who was he to talk.
“How did you get that?” Y/N suddenly asked, and pointed her small finger at Dean’s forehead, right where a big scar stretched over his skin, consequences of the fatal car accident.
Dean tried his best not to wince. He didn’t need to expose his lingering trauma to this pure soul.
“I was … in an accident,” he said instead. “But I’m okay and it’s almost healed now.”
The girl nodded. Dean was almost astounded at how easy it was with her.
“Whenever I hurt myself, my Auntie Ellen takes me to the Doctor. Or Jo. Or Ash.” Her face scrunches up as she thinks hard. Dean thinks it’s adorable. He finds himself smiling again.
“They always give me colorful plasters! I always get the dinos.” She leans in closer to him when she says the last bit, almost like it’s a secret she only wants him to hear. Dean’s heart warms at the thought, and he doesn’t even know why.
“Really? I’m jealous. I think dinosaurs are amazing.” He used the same hushed tone she had before. Y/N’s eyes widened. “You don’t get dino plasters?” She asked. If Dean hadn’t known better, he would’ve said she was outraged at his confession.
He shook his head. “Nope,” he said, “only boring beige ones.”
Y/N’s eyes widened even more, and her mouth fell open. Then, her lips curved into a beaming smile. “I can give you some of mine! Jo bought me so many the last time she went shopping!”
Before he could even give it a thought, Dean felt her small hand take his, and he was yanked from his seat. Geez, how did a four-year-old kid have so much strength?
His enthusiasm was short-lived, as Sam shouted from the other side of the room.
“Dean, Ellen got us a case!” His little brother was waving around a beige folder, a few newspaper pages hanging out at the sides.
He looked at his brother, then at the girl still clinging her small hand around his fingers.
“Does that mean you have to leave?” Dean’s heart clenched at the quiet, disappointed voice. He crouched down and looked Y/N in the eye.
“Yes,” he said, honestly. “ I have to go to work.”
She tilted her head. “To save people?” She asked. Dean nodded. He didn’t know how she knew, but maybe Ellen told her.
“Yes, exactly. But I will be back soon, and then you can show me your plasters, alright?”
Y/N seemed to think about it, and then nodded her head. Her pigtails were still wiggling up and down. “You promise?” She asked.
Dean nodded. “In fact,” he said, shifted his weight, and held out his pinky finger in front of her. “I pinky promise.”
Y/N grinned up at him. Dean grinned back. She linked her small finger with his.
“Can’t break a pinky promise,” Dean said as he stood up.
She shook her head violently. “Never!”
Dean laughed and waved her Goodbye.
“Let’s go,” he said to Sam as he passed him, and grabbed his jacket.
“Bye, Ellen, Jo.” Sam lowered his voice seriously. “Y/N.”
“Bye, Sam! Bye, Dean!” Y/N waved her hand after them.
“Good luck,” Ellen said. Then they closed the door behind them. The light of the sun was a heavy contrast to the dusky air inside the Roadhouse, and Dean’s eyes needed a while to adjust to the change.
He made his way over to the abomination car, Sam close next to him. His brother bumped his shoulder.
“Plural, huh?” Sam asked, smirking.
And if Dean sped the van up a bit faster, just to give his little brother a good scare now and then, well, that was between him and the Lord above.
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thewinchestergirrl · 4 months
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okay, but it’s been a long day and you and the boys are tired and you’ve all had your asses handed to you by a couple vampires and now you’re in the backseat falling asleep listening to sam and dean talk lowly while the radio plays and you’re slowly letting the sound of babys engine lull you to sleep. sam throws one of their jackets over you and dean has taken to driving just a bit smoother so as not wake you.
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soupsuckz · 5 months
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♡ deepest apologies chat i got too bored and tired for this ♡
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It was a late night, around 11 PM when Y/n began to shower. She sighed and gently let the warm water run over her wounds, wincing at the burning sensation. Her soft hums filled the warm, steamy room and for once she was able to truly relaxed. That was, until a knock at the door startled her eyes back open.
"Busy!" She yelped, jumping from the sudden noise.
"Just me, Y/n. Let me help you, you're hurt." Dean opened the door and quickly shut it as he walked to the shower, where Y/n was hiding. The curtain was slowly pulled back, revealing her to him. She blushed and tried to cover herself, being that she was never so exposed to him. Sure, he'd seen her in a bra and panties, but this was a new level of intimacy. Dean chuckled as she tried to hide, a warm smile crossing his face.
"C'mon, sit down. Lemme wash your hair for you." He kneeled down beside the tub next to her, waiting for her to sit. Once she was settled, he squirted a bit of shampoo into his hand and began to gently scrub her scalp. She hummed at the sensation, closing her eyes once more. Dean smiled and continued to wash her when Y/n began to moan softly without realizing. He grinned, seeing the opportunity for some playful teasing.
"Feels good, huh?" He laid his chin down onto her shoulder, gently lowering his hands to her breasts. She let out a soft gasp at his rough touch, turning to look at him. His eyes gazed down to her chest as his fingers gently pinched and rubbed her nipples, causing her to shudder.
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supercap2319 · 4 months
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"Seriously, Sammy? You go away to college to become a lawyer and get yourself a boyfriend, but said boyfriend is a witch? You sure know how to pick em." Dean said.
Sam rolled his eyes. "It wasn't my intention, Dean. I didn't know Y/N was a witch any more than he knew I was a hunter."
"He's way out of your league."
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