#when dean realizes he was flirting he looks over his shoulder like 'no one can see me flirt with a man bc im so repressed boo hoo hoo'

[hintsofhoney]

Don't Forget It

Paring(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: While working a case with Dean, he gets jealous of the way you interact with a suspect and decides to remind you who you belong to.

Tags: 18+, p in v, unprotected sex (be smart), rough sex, jealous dean, spanking, light dom/sub dynamics, sex in a public place, begging, voyeurism if you squint

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Just another finished work that's been sitting in my drive, collecting dust. Beta'd by my loves @makeadealwithdean and @wayward-dreamer; love you both to the moon and back 🤍 GIF is mine. Enjoy!

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST |  SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST |  MAIN MASTERLIST

You don’t miss the way Dean’s eyebrow raises when you lift one leg to sit on the man’s desk, twirling your hair and batting your eyelashes as you try to get him to confess. You’re fully aware of the way your pencil skirt is riding up, revealing more skin than you care to show to this douchebag probably-murderer, but it’s clear that he’s way more interested in speaking to you than Dean. If it helps move the case along, you can turn on the charm.

Dean’s watching you from the corner of the room as you flirt with the sleazebag, his jaw clenching as he reminds himself that you’re just doing your job, but it doesn’t make him want to remind you who you belong to any less. Especially when you look like that . Tight skirt, the top three buttons of your blouse undone, and then when you lean over pretending to laugh at something this guy had said, he catches a glimpse of your black lace bra, and he finds himself trying not to think about ripping it off of you. Not that it was working.

“You know, you’re a pretty little thing, Agent,” the man smirks, and then he’s reaching for the exposed part of your thigh and you’re wishing he wouldn’t , and Dean clears his throat so loudly it startles the both of you. You hop off the desk as the suspect turns around to look at him.

“I think we’re done here,” Dean says, walking over to the desk and pulling a fake business card with his real phone number on it out of his inner suit jacket pocket. “If you remember anything, Mr. McAnn, give me a call.” He tosses the card carelessly onto his desk.

Mr. McAnn huffs. “Yeah, alright, Agent.”

You and Dean both know the phone call isn’t coming; you’re going to need to find another way to prove the dickhead sitting in front of you murdered his wife — possessed or not.

“Let’s go, Y/N,” Dean grits out, his eyes not leaving Mr. McAnn’s as he walks to the door. You follow suit, and the anger in your boyfriend’s voice doesn’t go unnoticed. Dean’s already ten steps ahead of you by the time you’re fully out of the office.

“Dean!” you call after him, speed-walking to match his brisk pace down whatever corporate building hallway you were in. “Slow down, I’m in heels!” 

You catch up to him and grab his wrist, spinning him around. 

“The hell’s gotten into you?” 

He huffs in disbelief, his hands coming to rest on his hips as he tongues the inside of his cheek, thinking of how to answer that question. 

“You can’t be serious,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest and raising your eyebrows, realizing what’s gotten his panties in a twist. “I was trying to get him to confess , Dean.”

“I’m not — I know. Okay? But —” he pauses, beginning to stalk towards you, a hunger in his eyes that tells you exactly where this interaction is heading. You nearly trip over yourself as you walk backwards, a soft gasp leaving your lips when your back hits the wall. “Doesn’t mean I like watching you slutting it up for the asshole.” 

He’s got you fully caged in between his arms now, one hand on either side of your shoulders, his face inches away from yours. 

“You’re mine .”

You roll your eyes. As hot as he is when he’s jealous and possessive, it’s not like he can fuck you in this hallway. Plus, he’s being ridiculous anyway. 

“Your point ?” you prod, probably further than you should. 

“My —” he huffs again, his hands back on his hips, shaking his head before looking around. “Oh, I’ll show you my fucking point, sweetheart.”

He grabs your wrist, ignoring your squeal, and drags you a few feet down the hall, turning into the women’s bathroom and locking the door behind him. His eyes quickly scan underneath the three stalls before he determines the two of you are alone. 

“Dean —”

He cuts off your protest with his hands on your waist, walking you back into the nearby sinks before hoisting you up onto the counter. 

“Dean!” you yelp in surprise. 

He pays it no mind as he reaches for your blouse, tearing it open in one quick motion, plastic buttons clattering to the floor.

“Dean!” you scold, and Jesus, how many times can you say his name in different ways in one minute?

He remains unphased, focused on two things and two things only, both of which he reveals as he pulls down the cups of your bra.

“Christ, Y/N,” he breathes, cupping your breasts in his hands as he stares at them like it’s his first time ever seeing boobs. His thumbs flick over both of your nipples at the same time, and you arch your back as a moan escapes you.

“Mm, fuck.”

He leans in, his breath fanning over your earlobe as he continues tweaking your nipples. “Might as well have shown that dickhead in there these fuckin’ tits, the way your shirt was hanging open. Left really fuckin’ little to the imagination, Y/N,” he whispers, drawing more sounds from your throat. “He was probably sitting there thinking about doing all the things I’m doing to you right now. And I don’t like that. That’s my fuckin’ point.” He pinches one of your nipples, a yelp leaving your lips. “Understand?”

You nod, unable to form words.

“I can’t hear you.” He pinches the other peak and pulls a little. 

“Oh — fuck! Yes, I understand,” you answer. “I’m yours, I’m yours.” 

“And don’t forget it.” 

His lips find your breasts, and soon he’s sucking bruises into your skin and teasing your nipples with his tongue. He’s everywhere at once, everywhere but where you really need him, and you’re not sure how much more of this torture you can take.

“Dean, please,” you gasp, and he lets out an irritated grunt as he pulls his mouth off one of your breasts, seeming annoyed that you had interrupted his fun with your begging. You can’t blame him – he’s a boob guy. Especially if they’re your boobs. 

“I’m not done yet,” he states, before resuming his attack – for lack of a better word – on your breasts.

You groan in protest, the heat between your thighs building, and you spread your legs as far as your skirt will allow. The cool air that hits your core reminds you that you had chosen to forego underwear today, and you reach down to shimmy your skirt up to your hips while Dean’s still focused on your breasts. You’re able to spread your legs a bit further now, and you can’t help but chuckle at the fact that your boyfriend still hasn’t noticed you fully on display. 

He pulls away an inch or so when he hears your giggling. “Somethin’ funny?”

“You really are a boob guy, huh?” You shake your head in disbelief, biting back a smile. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, and you use the opportunity to lean forward, simultaneously pulling him towards you by his shoulders so you can whisper in his ear. “You’ve been so focused on them you haven’t taken the time to look down yet, have you?”

He pulls away, still confused, until his eyes dart down to your core. “Jesus – wait – did you –”

“Was debating between those panties you really like or just foregoing them altogether,” you shrug.

“Fuck,” he breathes, staring at your dripping core for a few moments before a second wave of feral hunger hits him. “ Fuck .”

Before you can even process his movements, you’re bent over the counter instead of sitting on it, your legs kicked apart with two fingers plunging into your heat. 

“Oh my – Dean !” you squeal at both the abruptness and the roughness of it all.

“Don’t know what you expected, sweetheart, walking around with everything on fuckin’ display.” He crooks his fingers at just the right angle, and you bite back a scream.

“I – fuck – nothing w-was on display – oh God !” 

“Might as well have been. This tight little skirt of yours doesn’t leave much to the imagination, either. And then to find out there’s been nothing underneath it this whole time?”

“Ow!” you exclaim, as a loud smack fills the air, courtesy of Dean’s hand landing on your bare ass. 

“ Louder ,” he growls. “I want the whole fuckin’ building to know they can imagine whatever they want, but I’m the only one who gets to act on it.” He pulls his fingers out of you and spanks you again.

“De – oh, fuck !” you choke out. “Please, Dean.”

“Please what?” he asks nonchalantly, and you can hear his belt buckle clinking behind you.

“Fuck me. Please, I need you to fuck me.”

“ Need me to, huh?” You hear the zipper of his slacks, and you shift your weight in anticipation, your ass squirming. He lands another smack on your left cheek – the hardest one yet.

“DEAN!” you yelp, and you’re certain the entire building heard that one.

“There you go. Now beg that loud and I may just give you what you want,” he chuckles, grabbing a fistful of your hair and bringing your face up from the counter while he runs his cock through your soaked folds. 

“Please!” you groan.

“Mm-mm, not hearin’ you, sweetheart.”

“Deaaaan!” you whine, pushing your hips back, trying to force him inside you. 

“You know what to do, Y/N.” 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath – there’s only so much of this you can take. You focus on his cock teasing your folds for a few moments, and that’s all the encouragement you need.

“Please, Dean! Please, fuck me!”

“That’s better. Louder.”

“Jesus fucking – FUCK ME, NOW!”

You’re rewarded immediately, and he bottoms out inside you with ease. 

“Was that so hard?”

“Fuck me,” you reply through gritted teeth, “or I’m gonna go get Mr. McAnn to do it.”

That is both the very wrong and very right thing to say. 

You yelp as he yanks up harder on your hair, your chest leaving the counter. His hand moves to rest on your neck – not choking you, simply holding you in place – and then he pounds into you harder than he ever has before. 

“You are something else, you know that?” he hisses, his thrusts hard and fast. “I know you were only acting like a slut for Mr. Douchebag back there, but it just comes so – fucking – easy – to you, doesn’t it?” He punctuates his words with more thrusts. “And not wearin’ any underwear – that wasn’t for the act, hm? That was because you were hopin’ to end up like this, yeah?” His hand moves from your throat to grip underneath your jaw when you fail to answer. “ Yeah ?”

“Yeah – oh m-my God – fuck , D-Deaaan.”

He smirks, watching you in the mirror above the counter as you slowly come apart on his cock. “No, you don’t have to act like a slut for me, sweetheart. You just are one, hm?” 

You nod to the best of your ability. 

“Open your eyes, look at yourself,” he orders, his grip on your jaw tightening as his thrusts speed up. You do as you’re told, meeting your reflection in the mirror. You’re not sure if your mascara is smudged because of sweat or tears, your hair looks like a bird has made its home in it, and you can’t remember a time that you’ve looked this fucked out. “See what I mean?” Dean questions. “Sluttiest you’ve ever fuckin’ looked. Not that I’m complaining.” 

You feel the dam inside you about to break, and you let out a whimper in warning. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, almost out of breath, his tone laced with pity. “Are you gonna cum?”

“Mm-hm,” you nod, whimpering again.

“You like being my slut that much, hm?”

“Dean, please,” you beg, squeezing your eyes shut, stalling your release as much as you can. You’re not sure why – it’s not like you have to wait for his permission – but you find yourself wanting it. 

“Christ, Y/N,” he breathes, quickly realizing what you’re asking for. His thrusts are becoming erratic, and you know he’s close too. “Hold it, baby. Can you do that?”

“I don’t –”

“Mmm, I think you can. I’m – fuck – I’m close. Be a good little slut and hold it. Want you – shit – want you to cum with me, sweetheart.”

You find yourself nodding, focusing on Dean’s pants in your ear instead of the precipice of your release, and a few seconds go by before expletives are falling from his lips and you know it’s safe for you to let go.

Your dam breaks. “Oh, God – fuck – Dean!”

“Fuuuuuck,” he moans, filling you up. He lets his forehead fall to your shoulder as he catches his breath, post-orgasmic shivers running through him as you ride out your high, your walls clenching around his cock. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he pants, lifting his head to press a kiss behind your ear. “Such a perfect fuckin’ slut.”

You manage a soft giggle as your body settles. “Only for you, babe.”

He chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder as he stares at your reflection in the mirror. 

“And don’t you forget it.”

#dean winchester smut #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader

[supernaturalistthings]

Earlier

Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: Dean flirts with another girl to make you jealous.

Warnings: +18 contains smut

You watch from across the bar as Dean shamelessly flirts with the bartender before him. She’s loving it and leaning into every word he says. Your hold on your short glass tightens as Sam mindlessly sips his beer while seated at the table with you. He looks over to you and does a double take then follows your eyes and sighs

“Okay, this is torture” Sam says while tapping his hands on the table

“What?” you snap your head in his direction questioningly

“This..” he gestures his hands at you and Dean, frustrated with the situation before you both. He continues “He's doing this to make you jealous, you know?”

“What?” you say again without taking your eyes off Dean

“He devised this whole plan i wasnt supposed to tell you about …to get your attention… but this is just torture”

“You're lying… trying to be nice” you say, sneaking a quick glance at the younger Winchester trying to get a sense of his sincerity. Ultimately your attention gets laser focused back on the “happy couple”

“I'm not, I swear” he says laughing, putting his hands up in surrender. Truthfully it sounds exactly like something Dean would do, but what was in front of your eyes clouds all sense of rationale or logic. “You know i've always rooted for you guys” he continues

“There's no “you guys”, there’s absolutely nothing between us” you say with an eye roll as you start gathering your jacket and bag from the back of the chair.

“You’re right, this is torture. i’m turning in have a good night sam” he shakes his head and waves you off as you start making your way through the crowded bar. You look back only once at Dean and the bartender and find them in the same exact form they had been previously. She could care less about the aggravated bar patrons looking for drinks and refills, she only wants Dean. He looks over just in time to catch your gaze and his smile falters. You snap your eyes back towards the exit but he continues to watch as you make your way through the bar when the next thing he sees is the exit door closing behind you. He abruptly ends the conversation with the overly flirty bartender and scans the bar looking for his brother. He finally finds Sam who is already waving to get his attention and makes his way over drink in hand.

“You struck out?” Sam says pointing in the direction dean just came from

“I'm not interested” Dean retorts, setting his drink on the table “Where’d she go?” he continues

“Ah you mean the real reason you didn’t take that bartender back to the room? She got sick of your show and went back to the motel” Sam replies, taking a swig of his beer.

Dean's eyes fall to the drink in his hand while contemplating whether or not this will be the night. The night he rushes to your side and confesses how he really feels, how he has felt for a while now. How you’re the only one who can bring him to knees and lift him up at the same time. How he can’t actually be with anyone else without being utterly consumed by the thought of you. All of a sudden The music in this bar seems too loud, too many people are way too drunk, nothing good is on any of the TVs. All of a sudden it seems to be too much for Dean and he realizes this is the night, he can’t take this anymore. He’s yours and he wants you to know it, to give him the chance to have you too.

He says nothing and simply smiles, grabs Sam's shoulder, and laughs and disbelief at what he was about to do. He stands and starts hastily making his way towards the exit and to his car. The engine roars to life and he peels out of the parking lot and starts the short drive to the motel. The rundown and very reasonably priced place enters his vision and he finds a parking spot nearest your room.

He throws open his car door and nearly runs to your room to knock repeatedly, until you answer. You slightly open the door and make eye contact with a smiling and breathless Dean. You immediately groan and go to shut the door in one swift motion, he jams his boot between the door and its frame preventing you from shutting him out.

“Well hello to you too” he says still breathless and with a smile as he shoves himself through the opening and past you so he’s safely in the room and it’s not likely you could force him out

You sigh and shut the door behind you, latching it, and then turn to face the man you had fallen for. Who had no idea. The man you were trying your hardest to stay annoyed at. You cross your arms over your chest and plainly ask

“What are you doing here Dean? You looked plenty occupied last time i saw you”

“I was trying to get under your skin..” he retorts

“Well congratulations Dean. you succeeded. You can get back to whatever or whoever you were doi-“

“Will you stop talking and listen to me? i’m not going anywhere until you do” he interjects leaving you agape. His bluntness has always stirred something inside you. It makes you shift on your feet. You’re nervous for what he’s about to say but still give him a look that grants him permission to continue.

“I've cared about you for a long time…” he says, taking a few steps forward until you're face to face. He continues, “and I'm tired of pretending that I don't… I'm tired of pretending like your laugh isn't my favorite sound, like i don't want to run my hands through your hair everytime you look at me, like you talking to other guys doesnt send me into a damn spiral… and most of all i'm tired of pretending that i want anyone other than you”

You're in shock and silence fills the room. Your arms are now uncrossed and the intense eye contact that's happening right now is making you feel like you could pass out. You don't know if you've ever seen his eyes look this green. You try to muster any of the million thoughts that are racing through your head but the shock has completely taken over your ability to actually speak them. All you can say is

“But earlier..”

“I was just trying to get your attention…” he brushes some hair out of your face, and gathers your face in both hands. He holds you in that moment like you might break. He looks desperately into your eyes for some sort of answer, some future. “I'm sorry..” he continues while leaning in even further so his lips feel like a whisper against yours. All of a sudden you could care less about earlier and can only think of what his lips would feel like moving against yours. You slowly bring your arms up and wrap them around his neck. You're looking deeply into his eyes while he scans your face for any signs of doubt. There isn't any.

You both lean in and seal your lips together. Your mouths move slowly and hesitantly, wanting to savor every second. It feels like you're both breathing for the first time in years, it comes easy to you both, natural even. He pulls back slowly and almost painfully as his eyes flutter open and meet yours.

“I've waited so long..” you say while keeping his gaze. He softly smiles and readjusts his hands on the sides of your face before sealing your lips once again, but this time it's different. This kiss is passionate, possessive even. You're his and he's yours, and he wants you to know that without a doubt. Every single second with his lips on yours reinforces that. His hands travel down to the sides of your waist and he pulls you flush against him. Your hands trail to his broad chest and every touch from him is electrifying your body. You desperately need to feel him, all of him. But you can't help but to think

“Are we moving too fast?...” you say breathlessly between kisses

“Probably…” he whispers back into the kiss “should we stop?” he continues still without breaking the kiss

You pull back in shock and look at him with a smile “absolutely not” His lips turn into a jackpot grin of his own and you both collide again.

HIs hands tighten on your waist and he effortlessly pulls you up to wrap your legs around him. His hands move over your rear to the back of your thighs and without breaking the kiss he walks you over to the bed. He leans himself forward and lays you gently on the bed. He steadies himself over you and says “I've waited for this for so long too” while looking deeply and passionately into your eyes.

You can't help but roll the both of you over so you're straddling him beneath you. You take the sides of his face into your hands and say “You have no idea” before taking your top off over your head, you swear you could have seen literal hearts in his eyes from the way he was looking at you. He relishes this moment and runs his hands up your half naked torso until he reaches the bra clasp on your back. He expertly undoes it and slides your bra off your shoulders he runs his hands over your now bare breasts and starts breathing heavier at the touch. “Even damn better than I'd imagined.”

He leans himself forward and puts a hand on the back of your neck to reconnect your kiss. It only breaks for a second while you pull his shirt over his head. It joins yours on the floor and your hands move down his toned chest to the button on his jeans. At the friction of pulling his zipper down he takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and pulls possessively. Its taking everything within himself to restrain himself from taking you and fucking you dirty. He wants this to be perfect, he never wants you to think about another man but him ever again.

He flips the both of you so once again you’re beneath him and he gazes down at you like you're the only woman on earth. Like you’re a dream that's about to come true. He starts slowly taking your pants off and your panties with them and as soon as he gets them past your ankles he throws them to join the rest of your clothes on the ground. He's staring again but this time you are completely bared in front of him, he can't help himself really. You're way more beautiful than any dream he's had. He stays there for a second and you don't know whether to feel self conscious or not, he notices and softly grabs your thighs.

“You're so beautiful…”. You smile in return and lace your fingers through his. Your hands fit perfectly together. You pull him down onto you and whisper against his lips

“You know this is starting to feel a little unfair” you say as you flick your eyes down to his jeans and then back up to those beautiful green eyes. He smiles brightly and kisses you while bringing one hand to push his jeans and boxers down while you help them the rest of the way down and he kicks them off. Your lips reconnect and you're both smiling into the kiss.

Your hands are all over each other's bodies and you're moving yours down to where he wants you most. He's already fully hard and is shaking at any form of contact. He's big, bigger than you've ever had and this only pools the wetness between your thighs. The room is filled with both of your moans and praises. You're pumping him steadily and he's loving every second. His breathing is starting to get labored when he says

“If i'm not inside you soon this is going to get really embarrassing, really quickly…” It comes out as a whisper against the nape of your neck. You throw your head back in laughter. You can see his cheeks flush as he smiles sheepishly. You kiss him once again and help him align himself with your entrance. He thrusts deeply and it has you gasping into his mouth and clawing at his shoulders. He buries his head into your shoulder and breathes deeply to steady himself.

“Fuck this feels so good” he groans out. He starts moving slowly, all the way out and all the way in. This lasts for a few minutes until he begins fucking you feverishly. He's absolutely ravishing you. It feels euphoric and you can't stop screaming his name while he kisses your neck. You wrap your legs tightly around him and he starts thrusting deeper and harder if that's even possible. He's looking directly into your eyes and moaning over your lips. His hand is running all along your thigh.

“Are you close?” he grunts out

All you can manage is a enthusiastic nod and a string of reassuring moans and pants. You’re hanging onto his shoulders for dear life when you finally feel him spilling out of you which is enough to send you over the edge. You cum hard and fast around him, your walls tightening around his long member.

He kisses you quickly and then pulls back and says

“How could you think I would ever want anyone else other than you?” You both smile simultaneously at his words and you lean up to place a loving kiss on his lips. A kiss that held years of unspoken words and missed conversations and Dean feels it, every syllable.

#dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural headcanon #supernatural imagine #dean winchester headcannons #dean winchester moodboard #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester one shot #dean #dean winchester smut #dean winchester headcanon #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader

[winchester-girl67]

Don’t Say A Word (Part 9)

Summary: A scare forces the reader to pack a bag and leave Dean, but something or rather, someone, stands in her way.

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Dean x reader

Square: Quote D: @supernatural-jackles​ 11. “You didn’t think you’d be able to get rid of me just yet did you?” 14. “Stop flirting with me, I’m not going to fall for it.”

Word Count: 2,117

Warnings: language, angst, mistaken identity, arguing, scared!reader, reader holds a gun for the first time, biting, minor injury, a little blood, pining, jealousy, unrequited feelings, love triangle, slow burn, fluff

A/N: Wait for it... Written for @supernatural-jackles​’ Tell Me a Story bingo, quotes are in bold italics.

_____

When dawn broke nearly two days later, Dean alerted you, shoving you awake by your shoulder with a finger over his lips. You groaned and tried to shove his hand away, sleep clouding your judgement until he covered your body with his. He pressed your head into the mattress with a palm over your mouth, effectively muting your surprise. You fisted his shirt collar, nearly tearing it when you realized the threat; Dean’s eyes darting from window-to-window and door-to-door. If he was this anxious, it had to be bad and your muscles started to the sound of knocking at the front door. Dean rolled off the bed, dragging you with him and holding you close, guarding your body with his.

“Take this, lock yourself in the bathroom. Don’t come out until I give you the all clear.” He whispered next to your ear.

He handed you a silver handgun, you had no idea how to use, and pushed you towards the bathroom. You locked the door and hid behind the shower wall. Peeking around it and straining your ears to hear what was going on in the next room. But you couldn’t hear much of anything over your own heartbeat. That had to be a good sign though, right? It meant there was no struggle going on at least.

“You can come out, Y/N.” Dean called after what felt like forever. You hesitantly exited the bathroom, looking around. "False alarm. It was just my little brother.” He said, though you didn't see anyone else around.

“You gotta be kidding me. You scared the shit outta me.” You cried, closing the distance between you and slapping Dean on the shoulder when he got in your way.

“Better safe than sorry, right?” He shrugged, taking the gun from you and checking that the safety was still on, tucking the piece into the back of his jeans when he was satisfied it was.

“Asshole." You growled, shoving past him and starting to gather the few things you had, packing them back into the small duffle bag.

“You can’t seriously be mad at me about this.” Dean huffed, pulling some stuff out of your bag that you immediately grabbed back from him and repacked.

“Can too.” You zipped up the bag and slung it over your shoulder, stomping towards the door.

“Y/N. Stop.” He ordered, grabbing one of your wrists. Which had surprisingly healed pretty fast with the cream and you no longer needed the gauze.

"Ugh! Let me go, creep." Your voice broke but he kept his firm grasp on you as you tried to pull free.

“What are you doing?” He asked, staring deep into your Y/E/C eyes as he judged you.

“I’m leaving. I’m better off on my own.” You struggled against his hold again.

"And where are you gonna go? Because you can't go home." He said, his brows furrowing as he gripped your wrist a little tighter.

"Anywhere is better than here, with you." You hissed, Dean instantly releasing you and shoving your wrist back towards yourself.

Tears teetered on the brinks of his green eyes, refraining from taking that plunge down his cheeks as he willed them away. You thought he looked heartbroken, if he had a heart. And then, you turned away from him, heading for the front door.

“Sure. Go ahead, leave.” Dean said, fisting his hands at his sides. “See if I care when they catch up to you again.”

You ignored Dean's tantrum, stomping outside of the cabin with little to no plan of what came next. Glancing back at the door, half expecting to see him chase after you, but he wasn't there and you wiped a stray tear from your cheek. You didn't know why you were upset at the thought of him letting you go, that's what you wanted, right?

You sniffled, all thought clearing from your mind when you walked straight into something solid and warm, and standing in your way. You instantly thought of Dean's little brother and turned to apologize for running into him; despite having thought he'd already left when Dean returned inside of the cabin. But when you came eye level to the man's middle shirt button, you started to panic.

Your worst fears confirmed when you dragged your gaze up to meet his hazel eyes, hidden behind a few strands of brown hair that fell into his face as he stared down at you. You realized you hadn't taken a breath in what felt like forever and your bag dropped from your shoulder onto the gravel path beneath your feet. You froze.

“You didn’t think you’d be able to get rid of me just yet did you?” Mason teased with a light chuckle as he smiled down at you and you felt the hairs on your neck stand up.

“DEAN!” You screamed at the top of your lungs. “DE-”

Mason grabbed your waist with one hand, gripping your shirt to keep you from running and placing his other mammoth sized palm over your mouth, muffling your screams. He hunched his shoulders so that you didn't have to crane your neck up too much to make eye contact.

“Stop, Y/N. It’s okay. Remember I said ‘not everything is’- OUCH! Fuck.” Mason hissed, releasing you and shaking out his hand when you bit him hard enough to draw blood.

You spotted Dean rushing towards you with his gun drawn and you ran back to meet him. You grabbed onto his waist as soon as you could and held on for dear life. You knew your nails were scratching at his stomach but you didn’t care when you saw that he had dropped his aim. The barrel of the gun pointed towards the ground as he chuckled lightly and patted your hip.

“What are you doing?” You asked, glancing back at Mason who hadn’t made a move other than to wrap his palm with the edge of his plaid shirt.

“Why are you so scared?” Dean asked, holding onto your arm with his free hand when you pulled away to wipe your cheeks which were slick with tears.

“That’s him. That’s the guy that took me from the washroom at the diner.” You whispered shouted, growing more confused when Dean just smiled down at you and tucked his gun back into the waist of his jeans.

“Little Sammy?”

“Sam? His name’s Mason. And he’s not little.” You said, Dean’s gaze turning hard at your words as he studied your Y/E/C eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that,” you shook your head, reading his expression and dirty mind. "He’s like seven feet tall and picked me up with one arm." You explained.

“Six-four, actually.” Mason said, shuffling his feet in the gravel and giving you a dubious look. “And my real name’s Sam Winchester. I’m FBI, Y/N. You were always safe with me.”

“Oh my gosh, Mason is your little brother?" You glanced up at Dean who nodded and you rolled your eyes. "I-I don’t think I’m ready for another Winchester. One is enough.”

Dean was actually laughing next to you and you noticed you were still fisting his shirt. You noted his change in demeanour, probably gloating in the fact that you called for him when you were scared. Asshole got exactly what he wanted, for you to need him. The trouble was, you didn't want to let go. But you did and you took a step back, sizing up the boys.

“Dude, what did you do to her?” Mason, or Sam asked with a chuckle. The first three letters of ‘Mason’ are ‘Sam’ backwards, you wondered if that’s why he chose that name.

“Technically, I suppose I abducted her by accident. What’s your excuse?” Dean said with a shrug as if to say he wasn't at fault and it could've happened to anyone.

You were definitely regretting calling for him now and crossed your arms over your chest. Suddenly aware that you were still wearing Mason's hoodie which Sam seemed to notice too and he smiled at you.

“I knew you were supposed to be on Auburn’s detail and figured it’d be an easy target to finally take down the kingpin organizing celebrity ransoms and luxury car thefts. Apparently he's a big fan. Didn’t realize you were so off your game, not until it was too late.” Sam explained, it wouldn't have been too hard to find out who Dean was protecting. His job wasn't nearly as top secret or undercover.

"She's not an easy target with me around," Dean huffed, annoyed by Sam's presumption.

"I got to her easy enough," Sam smirked.

"That's only because I realized it wasn't her, dick. I didn't think I'd have to follow Y/N into the washroom. Besides, aren't you supposed to be a fanboy of Auburn Rose?" Dean quipped back.

"Have you ever worn a ski mask? It's not the easiest thing to see through." Sam explained, looking you up and down again. "She really looks nothing like Auburn. Fooled Ketch, though; still thinks it was her."

“You only think that because you’ve had a big time crush on Auburn since you were fourteen. Even had that pin up of her above your bed. To us non-fanboys, she's practically a doppelgänger." Dean teased and you supposed that's how Sam knew.

Brothers talk, so Dean probably bragged that he was in charge of protecting Sam's teenage celebrity crush. It sounded about right, you and Auburn were closer to Dean's age and she had done her first cult film around the age of eighteen; the movie poster was basically just her in a seriously low cut mini dress with batwing eyeliner, red lips and a black wig.

“Come on, man. Don't say that in front of Y/N.” Sam blushed, hanging his head so his hair hid part of his face. It was kind of hard to believe this was the same guy. He looked like an adorable big moose.

"How'd you find us?" You asked, the boys’ eyes landing back on you as if they'd forgotten you were there; caught up in their old brotherly ways, teasing each other.

"I know that Dean uses our uncle's cabin as a safe house when he needs it and he wasn't at home, so I figured this was the next place to check. I didn't have a chance to get away until now, but I wanted to check up on you, make sure you were okay. You're quite the little spider monkey, you know that?" Sam laughed with a knowing look in his eyes.

"Wait, did you see? When I-"

"Climbed onto the ceiling joists, balanced across the beams and climbed down the supports? Yeah. Why do you think I was trying to distract Ketch." Sam revealed, "I told you, you were always safe with me."

You were starting to believe him. You thought it was strange how you felt more at ease with Sam already than you did with Dean. Sure, Dean was your bodyguard and by definition was supposed to make you feel safe, but with him, you were always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Making bets with yourself on what the next argument would be about.

"Are you going somewhere?" Sam asked, picking up your bag from the ground and holding it out for you.

"Yeah," you said, looking back at Dean. His face hardened as he stared back at you. You sighed, "...No."

Ultimately, you knew you had nowhere else to go. Even if Mason wasn't a threat anymore, there were still men out there that thought you were Auburn. And as long as the real Auburn was in Paris and off grid, not posting on public social media, you were in danger. You hated to admit that you knew staying with Dean was the smarter choice, even if he annoyed the shit out of you most of the time.

"Good, because I would hate to have to kidnap you again." Sam half-smiled at you and winked.

"Stop flirting with me, I’m not going to fall for it." You teased, admittedly feeling flattered and glancing down at his injured hand. A red stain marking the part of the shirt that he wrapped around it. "We should take a look at that. There's a first aid kit inside."

Sam smiled when you reached out and took his free hand. You pulled him inside the cabin with you and towards the bathroom.

Dean's jaw clenched at the sight of you and his little brother. Each equally responsible for abducting you on separate occasions, yet you forgave Sam so easily with one glimpse of his puppy dog eyes. And now, to top it off, you were playing his nursemaid.

_________________________

A/N: Read part 10 here

_________________________ 
 Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278​ @laycblack​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @crustycheeks​ @kazsrm67​ @sexyvixen7​ @lyarr24​ @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99​ @yvonneeeee​ 

Forever SPN: @hobby27​ 

Tell Me a Story Bingo: @princessvader15​

Don't Say A Word: @lacilou​ @mlovesstories​ @spn730015​ @hunni-bunny​ @ria132love​ @fmstafford  @spideysimpossiblegirl​ @houseforwhores​ @siospins2​ @globetrotter28​ @nt-multi-fandom​ @maggiegirl17​ @iprobablyshipit91​ @tigergirllolipop​

#tell me a story bingo #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester x #spn fanfic #SPN #supernatural #dean winchester #Supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #dean x #au!dean x reader #bodyguard!dean #bodyguard!AU #boydguard!dean x reader #dean series #supernatural series #supernatural fanfiction #don't say a word

[kittenofdoomage]

Autumn Falls: Wednesday

Summary: Y/N’s had a run of bad luck that’s left her miserable, so her sister and best friend surprise her with a trip to Autumn Falls, the exclusive Californian resort where your every dream comes true. Seven days of relaxation and luxury await her, but will her vacation lift her spirits or leave her longing?

Pairings (reader is female): Negan x reader, Bucky Barnes x reader, Thor Odinson x reader, Sam Winchester x reader, Negan x reader x Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester x reader, Geralt of Rivia x reader, Steve Rogers x reader

Word Count: 37041

Warnings (expect any combination): slight angst and commiseration, non-disclosure agreements, flirting, conversations about relationships, oral sex, vaginal sex, public nudity and skinny dipping, size kink, sex in a hot tub, suspension (sort of), intense sex, breeding kink, yoga, my obsession with Sam’s hands, massages, dirty talk, slight praise kink, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, and squirting, threesome, double penetration (vaginal/anal), handjobs, shower smut, sex in a kitchen, horse riding, wild nature sex, over-stimulation, excessive orgasms,  comfort, companionship, aromatherapy and hot stone massages, anal sex, light BDSM, restraints, spanking/paddling, anal play, double penetration with toys, gagging, cuddling, post-vacation blues

MASTERPOST

It only took a few seconds after she woke up for her to realize she wasn’t alone, and a few seconds more for the night before to come back to her. As she stared at Negan, sleeping peacefully only a foot away, she recounted the events; dinner, movies, and shared kisses on the couch in her spectacular suite. Their activities hadn’t gone further beyond that when she’d dozed off on his shoulder, and when he carried her to bed, she’d asked him to stay, though she was unsure why.

Negan had been the perfect gentleman, and didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that she had spent the day in another man’s arms. He was so easy to talk to, passing no judgment on anything she said, making her feel completely relaxed and safe when she was around him.

The clock beeped, ticking over to eleven am. Y/N yawned and sat up, stretching and groaning at the aches in her muscles. Bucky’s suggestion of using the hot tub had been forgotten when hunger had taken precedence, and she doubted she had time to use it before her activity coordinator for the day showed up.

With a groan, Negan stirred beside her, yawning and blinking up at her. She smiled, giving him a little wave as he scratched his chest through the white vest he’d slept in. “Good morning,” she greeted.

“Isn’t it just,” he chuckled, hauling himself up and glancing at the clock. “Ah, still got time.”

“Time for what?”

“Thor’s not what you’d call an early riser,” he replied, pulling the sheets off of his legs. “And you’re gonna want to shower. After all the exercise yesterday.”

She could feel heat in her cheeks and she quickly looked away as he laughed under his breath, reaching down to scoop his pants from the floor. “Can I get a hint of what I’ll be doing today?” she asked hopefully.

Negan grinned at her. “That’d spoil the surprise, sweetheart.”

“You’re no fun.”

“On the contrary,” he teased, suddenly beside her, right in her personal space, and her heart rate kicked up a notch. One large hand cupped her cheek, drawing her closer until he could brush his lips over hers. “I can be very fun.” He stopped short of kissing her, pulling away with a light chuckle. “But you need a hot shower or you’re gonna ache like a son of a bitch.”

She hummed then sighed, wiggling off the end of the bed. “What are you gonna do?”

“I got some shit to take care of,” he shrugged, pulling his shirt over his head. “If you need me -”

“I know. Use the phone.”

He smirked, winking at her as he tucked his tongue behind his teeth. “Good girl.” The phrase made her shudder, and he didn’t miss it. His smile darkened, and she felt heat rush through her again. “Have fun.”

She ordered breakfast once he’d gone, wolfing it down when it arrived before jumping into the shower, though her thoughts kept drifting to Negan. Getting her mind off of him was a little easier when he wasn’t there to openly ogle, though she took the edge off in the shower, remembering her encounter with Bucky the day before. She wondered if Thor would be as openly flirtatious as the other two men had been, and what exactly he was going to be doing with her for the day. More so, she wondered what kind of guy was called Thor.

Once she was showered, she covered herself with a towel, hurrying back to the bedroom. As she entered, she paused, noticing the dress on the bed, along with a note and a pair of flat shoes in her size. She moved closer, picking up the note, reading it quickly.

Wear this today. Trust me. Natalie xxx

The dress was long, with a slit up one side that would probably reach mid-thigh. It was in her color, and wasn’t too far off of the dress she’d worn for her senior prom, a thoroughly boring affair in the end. Her date then had been all thumbs, and it had ended with a sloppy kiss at her door that she’d tried to forget.

She tried it on once she’d finished drying her hair, unsurprised to find the fit flattering, and she admired herself in the mirror for a few moments, certain Natalie had some kind of magical power unknown to man. Her own fashion sense leaned more towards comfortable sweaters and pants, clothes that were easier to hide in, to appear as background noise to anyone around her. This dress was for someone who wanted to be noticed, and that made her have second thoughts about wearing it.

A knock on the door made her jump, and she hurried to it, opening it to an extremely large blonde man, who instantly grinned at her.

“Good morning,” he greeted, with a voice exactly as deep and guttural as she expected. “I am Thor, son of Odin, and I shall be your companion for today.”

“Oh, uh, hi,” she replied, waving a little before realizing how silly that must look and dropping her hand. “I just need to put my shoes on…”

Thor nodded, stepping back respectfully. “I shall wait here.”

She didn’t close the door, leaving it ajar as she rushed back to get her shoes, heart pounding at the size of the man. He seemed polite and well-spoken, if a little odd - son of Odin? - and she couldn’t possibly think what he or the dress had in common to connect it to an activity. Still, she slipped her shoes on, anticipation making her fingers shake as she headed back to the door, grabbing her keycard on the way. The lack of a bag caused a problem, so she slid the card into her bra, meeting Thor’s gaze awkwardly.

“Do I get a clue now?” she asked.

He grinned at her. “I suppose so,” he teased. “We shall be spending the day in the ballroom. Learning to dance.”

Her eyes bugged a little in surprise. “Dancing?”

“Nothing too strenuous,” he assured her. “Negan informed me that you might be a little… tender.”

She couldn’t look at him, keeping her eyes on the floor as they approached the elevator, fire burning in her cheeks. “I haven’t danced since I was a kid,” she admitted quietly. “What sort of dancing?”

Thor chuckled. “As I said, nothing too strenuous.”

The ballroom was a huge hall that Negan had briefly shown her on her tour. It opened up from a double door in the lobby, and stretched halfway down the building. Everything was modern, from the impressive floor-to-ceiling windows with long velvet curtains either side, to the intricate silver and white panels on the walls. The floor was carpet around the edges, with the dancefloor in the middle, and a large crystal chandelier hung above it, sparkling in the sunshine.

“So it’s just us?” Y/N asked, looking around as Thor moved away to the small stage at one end.

“Just us,” he confirmed, giving her a dazzling smile before turning to a panel on the wall at the back of the stage. There was a second of static, though she couldn’t find the speakers, and then a low classical music began to filter through, filling the room with a light and pleasant sound.

She was so busy looking around, still awe-struck by the room, that she nearly missed his approach, blinking up at him when he was suddenly there. “What now?” she breathed.

“Give me your hand.”

Lifting it without a second thought, she felt her knees tremble as his significantly larger fingers wrapped around hers. He smiled, taking her other hand and placing it on his shoulder.

“May I?” he murmured, gesturing to her hip; she nodded, unable to find words. His huge paw slid over her hip, and she swallowed a sound that she was sure would be pornographic. “We’ll start slow, just follow my lead.”

“Okay,” she croaked, quickly shutting her mouth again.

Thor moved gracefully, far more so than she would have expected of a man his size. It was hard not to look down to see where his feet were and after a few seconds, she stumbled, accidentally stomping on his foot. If it hurt, he didn’t show it, and he chuckled, giving her a moment to readjust her balance.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Have you danced before?” he asked, resuming the step-to-step at a slightly slower pace but still in time with the music.

“Uh, I liked it when I was in high school. More modern stuff though. Kinda drifted from it in college, what with studying and everything.” Her foot came down on his again and she sprang back, shaking her hands in worry. “Oh god, I’m sorry!”

He seemed amused by her reaction. “You needn’t worry about hurting me,” he soothed, reaching for her hand again. “Let’s keep going.”

She nodded, swallowing hard as she moved her hand up to his shoulder once more, feeling her heart race as his hand gripped her hip a little tighter this time around. Focusing on the sway of his hips, she managed the next few steps without stamping on him, finally beginning to find her rhythm.

“You are a quick learner,” he whispered, grinning down at her.

Her stomach churned at the compliment, and she couldn’t hold the smile off of her face. “Thank you.”

After an hour of learning each step, her calves were beginning to ache, and the close proximity to Thor was stirring a fresh need in her belly. He was intoxicating, overwhelming, and incredibly entertaining, but she wasn’t sure the enjoyment of the dances was outweighing the thrum of overuse in her tired muscles. She’d learned a waltz for the first time in her life, but she was quickly tiring, and beginning to misstep again.

“You are weary,” Thor murmured as he turned her slowly to the music. “Would you like to stop?”

“I’m not used to this much exercise,” she whispered bashfully. “Everything aches.”

He slowed to a stop, smiling gently at her. “Perhaps a hot bath would assist.”

Her reply came out before she even thought about it. “Bucky suggested the hot tub.” Thor’s expression morphed into something a little more primal, and she swallowed, looking up at him, suddenly extremely aware of how big he was compared to her, how hard he was against her. “I-I mean, yeah, uh -”

“Perhaps my skills would be better put to helping you relax,” he said, voice thick and syrupy, the low timbre sending a shiver down her spine. “But only at your request, my lady.”

She wasn’t sure how he could sound so chivalrous and yet so filthy, but she already knew her response. “I-I would like to request that,” she managed breathlessly, nodding up at him. There was barely an inch between them, and for a second she thought he was going to kiss her - then her stomach rumbled loudly. He laughed as she turned her head away in embarrassment, letting her hand fall from his shoulder.

“Maybe some lunch first,” he suggested, detaching himself from her to turn the music off.

Smiling, she wrung her hands together, unable to stop herself staring at his ass in the tight black pants covering them. “Good idea.”

Lunch was quick and private, the absence of any staff in the restaurant almost conspicuous but Y/N was so wrapped up in Thor and his strange mannerisms that she didn’t notice so much. He was possibly the oddest man she’d ever met, using phrases that were either outdated or entirely confusing, and the way he spoke so formally was bewildering, yet still, she was captivated. Maybe it was the blond hair, the blue eyes, the startling chiseled physique - the black t-shirt alone was almost skin-tight and accentuated every bulge and curve of his muscles.

She was imagining him naked before they even left the restaurant, so when he led her to the downstairs hot-tub room, she didn’t argue, letting him coax her into easy kisses. He was just as eager as she was, peeling the dress off of her and tossing it onto a bench where it was quickly joined by his shirt and pants. Her bra went next, and his huge paws cupped and kneaded them, thumbs grazing over her nipples until they were rock hard and aching.

“You are beautiful,” he muttered, groaning when her hand slipped into the tight boxers that contained him. The sound that left her at feeling the size of him made him chuckle, and he rutted into her hand as she explored him, letting her fingers assess what she couldn’t see.

“Can I taste you?” she asked shyly. She wasn’t sure why she was requesting it; it wasn’t something she’d done very much of but for some reason, Thor made her want to try and please him.

“It is I who should be pleasing you,” he reminded her.

She smiled, shrugging lightly. “It would please me,” she mumbled. “I just - just a taste?”

He nodded, watching her with a darkening gaze as she dropped to her knees, tugging his boxers down over his hips. His cock sprang free, thick and long, weeping from the tip and bobbing at her eye level. Y/N bit her lip, wrapping her fingers around him again, stroking him just to see his reaction, rewarded with a low pleased grunt. Testing the waters, she dragged her tongue over his swollen crown, a salty but not unpleasant tang coating her tongue, and Thor groaned again.

Emboldened by his noises, she focused, sliding her lips over him, taking him an inch or so into her mouth, feeling the weight of him on her tongue. His hand cupped the side of her head, not applying any force, just resting there, following her movements as she rocked back and forth on his cock.

Her jaw started to ache after a few minutes, and she put it down to lack of practise at that particular sexual activity, but Thor didn’t seem to care, barely waiting a second after she’d pulled away to drag her to her feet, crushing his mouth into hers. The passion of the kiss swept her away, and she hardly noticed him reaching to turn the hot tub on until the sound of the bubbles broke her intense focus. He stepped back, glancing down at the panties still clinging to her hips, then at the boxers he’d discarded.

She was distracted by his nudity for a moment, drinking in his almost-golden skin and thick corded muscles, watching his cock bounce as he waited for her to follow suit and remove her underwear. When she realized he’d noticed her staring, she grinned, quickly disposing of the last of her clothing, letting him guide her into the ridiculously oversized hot tub.

“It’s very warm,” she hummed, hovering nervously as Thor sat down on the ledge of the hot tub.

“Would you like me to lower the temperature?”

“No, it’s just… warm.” She moved to sit but he stopped her, gesturing to his lap, and her eyes widened at the implication while her pussy throbbed. “Oh…” His fingers wrapped around her wrist, and she allowed him to pull her closer, her body desperate for contact while her mind rushed to keep up. For a second, she expected him to penetrate her as she sat, but it passed as he settled her on his lap, coaxing her thighs apart to allow his cock to slot between them. The bare weight of it against her sensitive cunt made her shudder, but Thor was already distracting her, groping her breasts from behind.

“Does that feel good?” he crooned, mouthing at her shoulder as he dragged her against his thick shaft, prolonging the tease. “Do you imagine it inside you?”

She nodded, unable to articulate her response, moaning as he manhandled her. He chuckled, dropping one hand from her tits, trailing his fingers down until her hips jerked and he knew he’d found the right spot.

“Right there,” he murmured. “Would you come for me, little one?” Another desperate nod, this time with a gasp as his finger circled her clit. “I want to feel your pleasure but you need to be ready to take me.”

“Fuck,” she rasped, letting her head fall back against his shoulder. He laughed again, not letting up on the slow build of pleasure, working his fingers until she was panting, breasts heaving out of the bubbling water.

When she was almost there, he slowed, and she mewled in frustration, squirming to try and get him to go faster but he stubbornly refused before whispering in her ear. “May I ask you a question? Once you have answered, I will let you have what you want.”

A rattling breath left her lips. “O-okay.”

“Where would you prefer I finish?” he asked, and the way he said it made her whole body tingle. “Inside you?” The remaining hand at her breast dropped, covering her belly, and she couldn’t help the reaction she had. Her hips jerked, and she moaned quietly, giving him his answer. “Oh, I see.”

She licked her lips, trying to force words together through the fog of desire. “I’m on birth control,” she whispered.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t crave it,” he taunted, picking up speed with his fingers again, returning his other hand to her tits to twist and tease her nipples. “You like the idea of it. Being so full of potent seed that you can’t do anything but carry.” She whimpered, trying not to think about it but his words were burrowing deep. “You like feeling it inside you. I wonder if I could make this little belly bulge…”

Her climax slammed into her, and Thor held her against his hard body as she twitched in his hold, gasping for breath and rocking into his touch. The idea of babies terrified her, but everything he was saying sounded like the hottest fucking thing ever, and oh, she wanted it. She wanted him to leave her full and leaking.

He moved his hand, easily sinking two fingers into her clutching heat, humming when her pussy clenched even tighter around him. After a few thrusts, he withdrew, shifting her so she was a little higher, allowing him to press the tip of his impressive cock to her entrance.

“Slowly,” he commanded, and she nodded, letting him manipulate her smaller body until she was opening for him, crying out as he slowly eased his cock inside her, inch by inch by inch.

She couldn’t think for how good it felt. Her body responded, working with the water to aid his penetration, and as he bottomed out, her eyes rolled back, head resting against his shoulder. Thor moaned in her ear, wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her there, impaled on him, spread open and shuddering.

“Tell me how it feels, little one.”

So full. So good. Could die and I’d be happy. “Big,” she blurted out, and he chuckled, covering her belly with his hand again. A slight amount of pressure and she whimpered, barely hearing the second low rumble of amusement.

“You can do better than that,” he purred.

Y/N gasped, reaching for anything to grab, to ground herself against the intense pressure inside her, barely managing to keep her eyes open. “Can’t,” she whined, “can’t think. Feels too good.”

He released her, pulling her off of him completely before standing, taking her with him. She was almost boneless but quick to wrap her arms around his shoulders as he hoisted her up, bearing her weight with ease. In the next second, he was entering her again, and gravity did the rest, his girth punching a cry from her lungs again.

“How about now?” he asked, obviously amused by how easily she came apart on his cock.

“D-don’t stop,” she begged, holding onto him tighter, crashing her lips into his as he started to fuck her.

The sound of wet skin on skin was almost as loud as the bubbles below them and she briefly wondered how he wasn’t tiring, but that thought was quickly washed away when the churning pleasure in her core blossomed, making her break her lips from his to scream. Thor didn’t stop, moving her with one hand cradling her ass, and the other wrapped around her back, almost as if she didn’t weigh a thing. His arms practically rippled with strength, and as she came down, even her weak limbs couldn’t deny his hold.

“Inside you, yes?” he panted, and she nodded desperately, eager to feel him cum. He ground his teeth together, forcing her to look at him as he fucked her harder and harder, creating new points of tenderness wherever his body collided with hers.

Finally, he dragged her down hard, making her cry out as he buried his cockhead right up against her womb, holding her there as his seed filled her, dripping out when there was nowhere else for it to go.

She pressed her cheek against his shoulder, humming happily as he sank back down onto the ledge, letting the connection linger. His cock didn’t seem to be softening, and she groaned when she felt him twitch again, lifting her head to fix hazy eyes on him. “I get the feeling you’re not done,” she mumbled.

Thor grinned. “I said I wanted to make your belly swell, did I not?”

Let me know what you think! 🎃

#thor x reader #thor odinson #fanfiction #fanfic #mcu #marvel #thor #adult fiction #autumn falls series #smut

[spaceagebachelormann]

Hii am I able to request Dean Portman x M!Reader who is also goth and Bombay’s son? Like how would Bombay and the rest of the team react when they find out Dean and him are dating?

dean with a goth bf who’s bombays son !

✧ warnings: maybe some homophobia (it takes place in the 90s after all), and mentions of people being judgemental towards readers style. also there’s like one sexual joke

✧ additional info: been wanting to write this for awhile now ngl <3, and also reader is on the team because it makes my life easier

✧ nav. — m.list.

i’m gonna be honest

he probably thought you were weird at first cause of the way you would dress

he didn’t say anything abt it though because you were bombays son and he didn’t wanna get kicked off the team so he js kept quiet

but i feel like he eventually starts to think ur cool because he’d talk to u through fulton cause fulton seems like that one mf who’s friends with literally everyone

he finds out ur music taste is the bomb (GOTH MUSIC EATS IDC) and slowly builds a friendship over that

he seems like he would be able to easily recognize his feelings for u

but he has internalized homophobia and hid it because his thought was “he’s hot but in a friend way” (it’s not in a friend way)

i hc that him and julie are close friends so when it starts to frustrate him he goes to her

they talk it out and she helps him realize that he def likes u

“everytime i see him i just wanna grab him and kiss him but like in a friend way” “dean would you flirt with your guy friends” “no?? tf?? oh.” “yeah”

probably takes a week to accept it before realizing this way he can pull both guys and girls

he starts making like subtle moves at u since he knows everyone will just think y’all are joking abt something

he’d probably get annoyed if u don’t catch on 😭

after a week of accepting he likes guys he decides to ask u out cause like what’s he got to lose

it was probably SO random too

y’all are sitting on his bed when suddenly he moves closer and just says “ur hot ngl”

and then he confesses slightly normally and y’all start ur relationship!

now because it’s the 90s and it’s a mlm relationship he becomes so much more protective than if he had a gf

someone looks at you guys weird in public? he’s looking even weirder back. someone calls you guys a certain f slur under their breath? he walks up to them and calls it them to their face

at this point he thinks ur style is so cool and interesting and js wants to show u off a lot

will walk behind u to check u out mainly and so u can have the spotlight

and he will fight anyone who makes fun of you

he’d always have an arm around ur waist or shoulders or on ur thigh for funsies

also probably calls u the names of goth artists cause he thinks it’s funny

u bring him something? “thanks robert smith”

u give him a lil kiss after practice? “why don’t u give me another marilyn manson?”

ALSO IM SORRY IF THEY ARENT GOTH ARTISTS IM VERY NEW TO GOTH MUSIC PLS CORRECT ME IF IM WRONG

as for bombays reaction

dean probably fucking told him by accident during practice 😭

“dean nobody likes when ur get agressive like that—” “OH YEAH? UR SON SURE FUCKIN DOES”

and then everyone js kinda stares at him

and bombay turns to u and then looks at him again before js telling everyone to keep practicing

he pulls y’all aside to talk to u

he’s supportive ofc <3 but he also reminds u to be careful because people aren’t very accepting

but he also knows there isn’t much to worry about cause when ur dating dean ur also probably bsfs with fulton and those two will die before letting anything happen to u

i cant think of anything else rn but i might come back and add to this!

#mars lovely anons <3 #the mighty ducks x reader #the mighty ducks #tmd x reader #tmd #dean portman #dean portman x reader #mars writing 🧈

[isolavirtuosa]

It's Called Flirting Dumbass 9-16 & Postlude

[fanfiction] Dean / Cass

Canon Divergent AU from after the Final Battle in 15x19

The title pretty much sums it up.

Previous parts here.

- 9 -

Well, it wasn’t really the end of the story.

“I’m gonna get you laid,” I informed Cass, leaning over the bar’s table and resting a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you going to be doing the laying?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

I sputtered at that, retracting my hand.  “What?  No, it’s gonna be a lady, ya know, a proper lady,” I explained.  “Well, no, she’s not really gonna be a lady in the like manners kinda way, just the vagina kinda way, ya know?”

Cass was looking at me like I was crazy.

“I mean, she’s gonna be a little loose,” I continued.  “In her morals?  Like me?  Ya gotta be a little loose to sleep with strangers in a bar.”

“I thought it was preferable that they be tight,” he said, looking me dead in the eye and oozing what could only be termed as sexual prowess.

I suddenly tasted copper and realized I’d bitten through my lip.

The Confident Sex God look was replaced by worry, and Cass reached across the table, brushing his thumb over my lip and healing it.  “Did I cross a line?”

I snorted nervously.  “Huh?  No, I uh, just… uh yeah, uh, no you’re right, wanna keep it… tight, ya know, uh, just uh didn’t uh…  When’d you get so filthy, man?”

“I learned it by watching you,” he deadpanned.

That got me to actually laugh, and I nudged his foot with mine under the table.  “Dude.”

“I thought inappropriate humor was required when mounting a mission to be ‘laid’.”

“Yeah, man, you are absolutely correct,” I assured him.  “Just, uh, you know, aim it at the ladies, not your wingman.”

“But what if I’m more attracted to the wingman?” he complained.

“Dude,” I complained back, tugging at the collar of my t-shirt.  It felt hot in here.  “Focus, c’mon.”

Cass’s eyes flicked from my eyes to my lips and then back again.

Had he always been this obvious…?  “Three o’clock.”

“That is not an accurate representation of tim-”

“Just look over there,” I said, nodding my head to my right.

Cass looked.

“She’s hot, huh?”

He shrugged.

“Really?”

“Not my type.”

“Hot is not your type?”

“Dean, there’s more to attraction than ‘hotness’.”

“Is there though?”

“I do not wish to sleep with random strangers.”

“Okay, but you totally did it with that reaper that killed you like on the first date.”

“I was human then,” Cass said, shaking his head.  “I had… urges.”

“So angels really are junkless,” I realized, feeling somehow vindicated.

“It’s not that I don’t experience sexual attraction as an angel,” he said, eyes going all squinty.  “It’s that the attraction doesn’t usually overwhelm my self-control.”

“Dude, you literally didn’t have sex for thousands of years,” I pointed out.  “That ain’t self-control, that’s like self-flagellation or some shit.”

He gave me a long look of fond exasperation, before finally saying, “The point is that though I may experience ‘urges’, I do not need to sate them.”

“Then what’s the point of havin’ ‘em, man?”

“Something can be said for the excitement of desire, even unacted upon,” he rumbled, his gaze holding mine.

I licked my lips.  “Not buyin’ it,” I tried to protest, even as my voice hitched.  “And save that shit for the ladies.”

“Whatever do you mean?” he asked, continuing to look at me with his bedroom eyes, because apparently that was a thing that Cass had.

“Damn, Cass,” I said, looking away with a shake of my head.  “Pretty sure you could take anyone home with that look.”

“Not anyone.”

My eyes flicked back to his, catching the rueful smile on his face.

I wanted to correct him.

“Those two women in the corner seem taken by us,” he said, nodding his head towards a table behind me.

I scoped out the situation, and he was right, it seemed promising.  We ended up going over and chatting the two women up, buying them drinks after they invited us to sit down with them.

They were sitting next to one another at a high-top table, so I sidled next to Madison, the outgoing blonde, and left Amy, the glasses-wearing librarian-type for Cass.  He had all this game now, so I left him unattended while I tended to Madison.

We were having a great time and I was thinking it was just about right to suggest heading out together, so I turned to my other side to check on Cass.

He was doing just fine, his eyes all crinkled up in that smile that I kinda thought was only for me, but apparently random stranger librarian chicks got it, too.

“Hey, buddy,” I said, resting my hand on his shoulder to get his attention.  “You doin’ alright?”

“Yes, Dean, very well,” he said, eyes flicking to mine and growing warmer.  “Amy and I were just discussing the migratory hab-”

“So nerd stuff.”

Cass gave me a flat look.

I caught the collar of his shirt and pulled him down for a quick meeting.  “Less nerdy, more sexy, man,” I whispered.

He rolled his eyes at me.

“C’mon, drop one a those lines of yours and get her to take you home,” I encouraged him.

“I am not interested in intercourse, Dean.”

“Uh, dude, you totally said you were.”

“I am not interested in intercourse with strangers.”

“Casssss,” I groaned at him.  “Sometimes you just gotta take the plunge.”

“Go back to your ‘hook-up’,” he said dismissively.

“Fine,” I growled at him, letting go of his shirt and quickly flipping back to Flirty Mode.  “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Madison and Amy had been watching us and whispering together, a mirror of me and Cass, but Madison immediately focused her attention back on me.  “Might be worth the wait,” she parried back at me.

I thought things were going well.

“You two are cute,” she said, nodding her head towards Cass.

“Some might even say downright adorable,” I said, because I was comfortable in my own skin..

“They might say that,” she agreed easily.  “Your sheer dedication to getting your friend laid is admirable.”

“I sense a ‘but’ here.”

“Those two are not goin’ home together tonight,” she said, nodding her head towards Cass and Amy who were now playing soccer on the table with their straw wrappers.  “Which is too bad, ‘cause your pal’s a total DILF.”

“That’s what I’m always sayin’,” I complained, before backtracking a little.  “Uh, not that I’d fuck him, I mean, but that he’s totally fuckable, right?  He should be out there… you know…”

“Fucking?” Madison suggested.

“Exactly.”

“I’d take him for a spin,” she said with a grin.  “Just got the feeling I’m not the one he’s waiting for.”

I chewed on my lip, feeling guilty for some reason.  “Yeah, he uh… his son’s mother, she passed…” I said, sprinkling in some truth with the fiction like I always did.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Madison, her face genuinely crinkling up in concern.

I shrugged.  “He had to bring up the kid himself, ya know?  Just never really thinks about what he needs or wants, always thinkin’ about the kid and everyone else first.”

“Well, he’s lucky to have a friend who cares about what he needs.”

“Dunno about that,” I said, rubbing my nose.  “Feel like I get things wrong more than I get ‘em right.”

“Can kinda relate,” Madison said with a rueful smile, and then she was leaning in, touching her lips to mine.

I froze.

Madison pulled back, a wrinkle between her eyes.  “Guess I’m not the one you’re waiting for, either?”

Was I having performance anxiety or something?  I shook it off, turning the charm back up.  “Sweetheart, I’ve been waitin’ for you my whole damn life,” I said, pulling her back in and giving a masterclass in making out with strangers.

We started to get ready to head back to her place, when I realized Cass and Amy were no longer sitting at the table.

Did Cass actually…?

This wasn’t pride I was feeling.

I decided not to name the ugly feeling roiling in my stomach.

“Ames, I’m heading out,” Madison called over to her friend, who was at the back of the bar, playing darts with Cass.

“Yeah, okay, trying to throw pointy weapons in a crowded bar here,” Amy said, waving at her friend with her free hand while she aimed her dart.

“Cass, you good?” I asked, moving a little closer.

“I will… ‘not wait up’, as the saying goes.”

“Good man,” I said, patting his arm.  Then I settled my hand on Madison’s waist, guiding her towards Baby and another one-night stand.

- 10 -

Cass was next to me in the front seat, leaning a little too close, eyes studying me.

“What’s up?” I asked, throwing him a glance.

“It’s just the way the light is striking your face right now…” he trailed off, his mouth curving into a smile.  “It’s truly beautiful.”

Sam groaned in the back seat.

I threw a glare at him through the rearview mirror.

Cass just ignored him, still smiling at me.

“Hey, Casanova, where were all these lines when we were at the bar the other night?” I asked.

“I save all my good lines for you, Dean,” he replied with a little quirk to his smile.

I rolled my eyes and pretended I wasn’t blushing.

Sam sighed loudly.

“You know, little brother, you’re the one who wanted us to get out of the damn bunker,” I told him with a frown.

“When I suggested we do Vegas, I didn’t realize I’d be trapped in a car for hours with Ross and Rachel.”

“Did you just call me… Jennifer Aniston?” I asked, confused.  I should have been insulted, but I was weirdly pleased.  Jennifer Aniston was hot.

Sam and Cass were both looking at me like I was an idiot.

I stuck out my lower lip, focusing on the road.

We went a few more miles before a big rest stop sign loomed up ahead of us.

“You need a wee-wee break, Sammy?”

“Yeah,” he said, not looking up from his phone or acknowledging my mocking tone.

“Ya need a knuckle sandwich while we stop?”

“Sounds good.”

I rolled my eyes at Cass.

‘He’s happy,’ Cass mouthed back to me.

‘He’s being a dick,’ I mouthed back.

Cass shook his head, but he was smiling.

I pulled Baby up to the gas pump and got out.  “Cass, put twenty on pump 1 and get me some nachos,” I said, handing him my credit card.

“As you wish,” he replied, accepting the money.

“And make sure you get extra cheese.”

“As you wish,” he repeated, already halfway towards the convenience store.

“I ain’t playin’ around, Wesley, I’m talking smothered in orange!”

“As you wish!”

I always both loved and hated when Cass started quoting movies at me.

“Dude,” Sam groaned, finally removing his eyes from his phone and getting out of the car.

“Dude yourself.”

“If you could see how cheesy your stupid grin looks right now…”

“There is nothing cheesy about this face,” I protested as I lifted up the license plate to get to the gas cap.  “My nachos better be cheesy, though.”

Sam just muttered something under his breath and took off for the bathroom.

Cass returned with the nachos.

“Oh, Cass, you did not mess around,” I said admiringly as I pulled out the gas nozzle and inserted it.  “Chip me.”

Cass pulled out a chip, careful to scrape on some extra cheese from the sides of the paper container before pushing it into my waiting mouth.

I expressed my gratitude unintelligibly with a mouth full of food.

I was just hanging the pump back up, insisting that Cass try some nachos when Sam came back to the car.

“Mmmm,” Cass said in an overly fake tone as he chomped noisily on the chip.  “Molecules.”

“You’re a cretin,” I complained, reaching up and absently thumbing some cheese away from the corner of his mouth.  It was an unconscious action that didn’t mean anything, except my thumb was lingering, and then it was tracing over Cass’s very round bottom lip, and then I was snatching my hand away and getting in the car.

“Unbelievable,” Sam muttered.

“What’re you goin’ on about?” I grumbled at him.

Cass sat down next to me, offering up the plate of nachos.

I took one and crunched on it as loudly as I could.

- 11 -

After Vegas, I just wanted to keep driving.

“It ain’t Hawaii, but it’ll do,” I decided as we stepped into the sand, facing the Pacific Ocean.

“I’m looking forward to a drink with a superfluous and ineffectual umbrella,” Cass declared.

“Dunno that they do those here, man,” I informed him regretfully.

“I will find them,” he said, taking off with a determined stride.

“Good thing we stopped for some beachwear,” Sam commented as he weaved between beach blankets, looking for a good spot to set up.

“Yeah, he looks good,” I said, eyes still following Cass as he moved in the opposite direction.  He had on honest-to-god flip-flops to go with his board shorts and his open Hawaiian shirt.  He looked like a genuine beach-goer dad.  A really well-built beach-goer dad who appeared to work out on a regular basis and attract a surprising amount of female attention for his age.

What had that one-night stand called Cass?

Your pal’s a total DILF.

“I meant for all of us to not stick out like sore thumbs in flannel and boots on the beach, but okay,” Sam said, and I could hear his eye roll without seeing it.

“Shut up,” I grumbled at him.

“Oh, I’m keeping out of it,” he declared, finally finding a spot he deemed worthy and throwing down his towel.

I put my towel down next to his, kicked off my sandals, and buried my feet in the warm sand.

Sam did the same, grinning.

“This ain’t bad, yeah?” I said.

“Pretty damn great, actually,” he acquiesced.

I didn’t think that life could get much better, but then Cass came ambling towards us, carefully balancing three coconuts filled with something very alcoholic.

“Where did you get these?” Sam asked with a laugh as he accepted his.

“I had to go a little far,” Cass admitted.

“Tell me you didn’t fly to Hawaii or something.”

“Then I will not tell you that.”

Sam and I cracked up, toasting with Cass and sucking down our fruity imported drinks.

It was a perfect day, full of Cass-isms (I don’t feel like this umbrella is protecting my drink from the sun at all), Sam being a giant (no, Dean, my head having its own orbit is not the reason I keep getting hit with frisbees), the warm sand, the happy little dogs running around with their happy owners, and the soothing rhythm of the ocean lapping against the shore.

It was peaceful, and I didn’t mind it.

“We should keep going,” Cass suggested quietly as we sat watching the sun set.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“I remember when the redwoods up north were still saplings,” he said, smile soft.  “I’d like to see how they’re doing.”

“Dad took me and Sammy up to one of the redwood parks when we were little.”

“Wasn’t he on a case?” Sam put in.

I’d kinda forgot he was there.

“Yeah, something loose in the woods,” I said.  “But man, that drive through the park...”

“It was pretty spectacular,” Sam agreed.

“I wouldn’t mind seein’ it again.”

“Then we can go?” Cass asked hopefully.

“Don’t see why not.”

Sam cleared his throat.

Kinda forgot he was there again.

We both turned to look at him.

“Don’t mean to rain on your parade, but I gotta get back to the bunker,” he explained.

“You need to get back to Eileen,” Cass said with a knowing nod.

Sam looked like he wanted to protest, but then he just nodded, too.  “Yeah.  We’ve still got some things to work out, but I think we’re good.”

“We can visit the redwoods another time,” Cass decided.

Not that I was disappointed.

“Why don’t you two go without me?” Sam suggested.  There was a strange glint in his eye.  “I can catch a plane back.”

“Sammy, no,” I said, shaking my head vigorously.  Winchesters did not get involved with those death traps.

Sam rolled his eyes at me.

“Look, it’s my responsibility as your older brother to make sure you’re safe-”

“I can fly him back,” Cass put in.

“That’s almost as bad.”

Cass looked insulted.

“Dude, not everyone’s afraid of flying-” Sam tried to put in.

“And not everyone’s afraid of clowns,” I shot back.

Sam and Cass were both rolling their eyes now.

I sighed loudly.  It wasn’t fair to have both of them calling me out on my bullshit.

“Why don’t we go back to the hotel, and we’ll figure out how to get Sam back in the morning?” Cass suggested.

“Sounds good,” Sam said agreeably.

“Whatever,” I muttered.

Cass knocked his knee against mine.

I shot him a wary look.

He just smile softly at me.

Well, shit.

I smiled back.

- 12 -

Whoever made those coconut drinks was a little heavy-handed on the rum, and I passed right out as soon as I hit the mattress.

Unfortunately, my bladder didn’t get the message, and I found myself blinking awake an hour later.

“...what we decided,” Sam was saying, his voice low.

“I think it’s the best decision for the two of you,” Cass agreed quietly.

“Thanks, man, it’s just... you know.”

“I do.”

“You gotta take care of Dean for me, okay?”

Cass chuckled at that.  “Dean doesn’t want to be taken care of.”

“Trust me on this one, he wants to be taken care of.”

I bristled at that.  Who was the one always taking care of Sammy’s ass?  In fact, who was always taking care of everyone?  There was no one...

Oh.

“I will always watch over him,” Cass assured Sam.

Whatever they were talking about, I didn’t like it.  I rolled over with a very loud groan as my back cried out for my memory foam.  I sat up and scratched my belly before kicking my legs over the side of the bed and lumbering off to the bathroom.

Those little bastards pretended like they hadn’t just been talking shit about me when I came back to the room and flopped onto the bed.

It was all very annoying, but I passed out before I could really care.

The room was quiet when I woke up again, sunlight streaking in around the edges of the cheap curtains.  I sat up with a yawn and a grumble, squinting into the light.

“Did you sleep well?”

I flailed around, ready to defend myself, but for some reason I didn’t go for the gun under the pillow.  My eyes focused on Cass, sitting in a chair pulled up next to my bed.  “That’s still creepy!” I yelled at him.

Cass shrugged, unaffected by my agitation.

“Dude,” I complained, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.  “You’re gonna give me a coronary.”

“I think that’s all the cheeseburgers for breakfast, Dean.”

“Shaddup.”

“Me being silent won’t make it any less true.”

“It’s too friggin’ early for your attitude,” I complained, flopping back onto the mattress.

“Shall I procure you some caffeine?”

“Yes, please,” I said, not sure why I felt the need to be polite to Cass, but also very strongly feeling the need to be polite to Cass.

“Okay, I’ll be back soon,” he said, disappearing even before his last syllable had faded.

The motel door opened, which even to my sleep-addled brain seemed like suspiciously good timing.

“You’re finally awake,” Sam scoffed at me, pulling off his sweatband and shaking out his hair like a Pantene commercial.

“Did you even sleep?” I shot back at him.  “We’re on vacation, ya know.”

Sam let out a puff of air that was either a laugh or a sigh, and started pulling clean clothes out of his bag.

I groaned, rolling onto my stomach and pulling the blanket over my head.

“Cass is gonna take me back to the bunker after breakfast.”

“Your funeral,” I declared into my pillow.

“Dean…” Sam said, and it was that damn tone.

“Don’t start.”

“Look, I know I said was keeping out of it-”

“Then keep out of it.”

“-but this is really getting ridiculous.”

I peeked out from the blanket, shooting a glare at my baby brother.  “What exactly is getting ridiculous?”

“You,” he said, meeting my gaze evenly.  “Cass.”

“What about me and Cass?” I asked before my better judgement kicked in to stop me.

“You know.”

“I don’t,” I countered, fully out of the blanket cocoon now and wanting to kick myself because why the hell was I encouraging Sam to keep talking?

“If you don’t know, then that’s just sad,” he said, shaking his head.  “The staring, the little nicknames, the awkward touching-”

“Awkward?” I repeated, because sure, that was the word to latch onto.  “Look, Sam, I don’t know what you’re trying to get at here-”

“It’s called flirting, dumbass.”

I choked on whatever else I was about to say.

“You alright there?” Sam asked, vaguely concerned.

I shook my head vigorously.  “It’s not… we’re not… you can’t possibly…”

He gave me a very unimpressed look.

“Sammy, no,” I insisted.  “It doesn’t mean anything.  I flirt with everyone.”

“You don’t flirt with me.”

“Dude, you’re my brother.  That would be gross.”

“I thought Cass was your brother,” he said, trying to sound innocent.

“Yeah, but not like, biologically.”

“So it’s okay to flirt with him?”

“Yes!” I exclaimed.  “I mean, uh…”

“Figure your shit out, Dean,” he said, gathering up his clothes and disappearing into the bathroom, the lock on the door clicking resoundingly before I could think of a comeback.

- 13 -

Cass had taken Sam back for his chick flick reunion moment with Eileen, so I was left to sit on my motel bed and replay every stupid thing that had come out of my mouth recently.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

It’s called flirting, dumbass.

I knew that.

It really wasn’t a big deal.

I’d known for a long time.

It was just flirting.

I flirted with everyone.

Cass didn’t mind.

Cass flirted back.

It really, definitely wasn’t a big deal.

Cass and I were friends.

Best friends.

And Cass said happiness wasn’t in the having, it was in the just being.

And his happiness was being in love.

With me.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Love.

Flirting.

Having.

Shit.

Hunting isn’t all you are, Jody’s voice echoed in my head.  I’m not gonna waste my breath even suggesting you get out of the life.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t have more.

What did I want?

And could I… have it?

“Dean.”

I glanced up at Cass as he leaned over me.

“You feel… scattered,” he said, scrunching up his nose.

“That’s one way a puttin’ it,” I said, trying not to catch my breath at the sight of him.  “Sammy all safe and sound and tucked into Eileen’s bosom?”

“I returned him to the bunker.”

“Cool.”

Cass frowned.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’,” I said, standing up from the bed and causing him to take a step back.  “You ready to hit the road?”

“Of course,” he agreed, though he was still looking at me uncertainly.

I didn’t talk the first hour of our drive, just kept the radio going on any classic rock I could find.

“Dean,” Cass finally said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Are you… upset with me?” he slowly ventured.

“What?” I asked.  “No.”

“Truly?”

“Yeah,” I said, nudging his knee with mine.

He seemed to accept what I said at face value, his hand patting my knee.

And then staying there.

The thing was, it was comfortable.  Natural, even.

The other thing was that now that Sam had said it, the bell couldn’t be unrung.

I cleared my throat.  “Cass?”

“Yes?”

“You know that’s flirting, right?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re flirting with me,” I clarified.  “On purpose.”

He gave me a strange look.  “Obviously.”

“Yeah, uh, o-okay,” I stammered, gluing my eyes on the road ahead.  “Hey, um… Cass?”

“Yes, Dean?” he said in that fond yet exasperated tone of his.

“Do you think… I… do I flirt with you?”

“Yes, Dean.”

“Oh,” I swallowed.  “Well, I mean, yeah, of course I do.”

“You flirt with everyone, Dean.”

I slapped the steering wheel.  “See, that’s exactly what I told-”

“It’s a defense mechanism,” he talked over me with a nod.

“-Sammy, uuuh…”

“I don’t take it too seriously,” he added.

I frowned at that.  “Hey.”

He cocked his head at me.  “Should I take it seriously?” he asked in such a low tone that I could only assume it was his ‘bedroom’ voice.

I swallowed.

Then I swallowed again for good measure.

“I enjoy your attention,” he informed me.  “But I don’t have any expectations.”

That made me feel kind of… shitty.  “You don’t deserve that,” I said quietly.

His brow furrowed.  “What do you mean?”

I bit my lip, frowning.  “You don’t gotta just accept whatever scraps I throw you, man.  You deserve all of it.  The whole shebang.”

“Are you offering?” Cass asked, sounding amused.

I swallowed.

He studied my face.

I gripped the steering wheel more tightly.  “I don’t know,” I finally whispered.

Cass breathed out a startled sound.  “Dean?”

“I don’t know,” I repeated tensely.

He squeezed my knee, staying quiet while I tried to work through it.

I turned the radio up louder and kept moving forward.

- 14 -

Somehow over the next couple of hours my hand had migrated from the steering wheel, to covering Cass’s hand on my knee, to all laced up with his like a couple of kids on their first date or something.

Which was not what this was.  At all.

I licked my lips nervously.

“Dean,” Cass rumbled at me, soft and soothing.

“I don’t think we’re gonna make it to the park before dark,” I said quickly.

“We can get a motel and go in the morning,” he suggested.

“A… motel…” I repeated.

“Dean?”

I squeezed his hand more tightly, surprised Cass wasn’t completely grossed out by how damn sweaty my palm was.

“I wasn’t propositioning you,” he explained.

“Yeah, of course not.”

“You seem… tense.”

I let out a little laugh that was supposed to show how unbothered I was, but it came out sounding a little more hysterical than I intended.

Cass was quiet, letting me calm myself down.

“Let’s keep driving,” I finally decided.

“Okay,” he agreed.

There was still a little light when we reached the park, though the sun was slowly disappearing.

“Incredible,” Cass whispered.

I squeezed his hand, mellowed out by the long drive and Cass’s solid presence beside me the entire way.

We parked at the visitor’s center, only a couple other cars in the lot at this late hour, and we started to walk.

Cass was going full Jane Fonda, resting his hand against the bark and murmuring softly to the tree as he gazed up at it in wonder.

“Ya gonna hug it or what?” I asked.

“Do you think it would be inappropriate?” he asked, head tilting to the side.

He was so damn sincere, that all I could do was shake my head and say, “nah, it’s fine.”

Cass flattened himself to the tree, exhaling like he’d been holding himself back.

I bit my lip, trying not to grin.

“You should try it, Dean.”

“I’ll leave the communing with nature to you,” I said, though for some reason I reached out my hand to rest it on the bark, next to Cass’s.

I’d been around ancient cosmic entities before, but there was something about these tall ass trees that made me feel the immensity of creation in a way that those assholes never could.

Our gazes met across the bark, Cass smiling carelessly like a little kid.

I felt my insides go all soft.

Okay, there was one ancient cosmic entity that could.

“C’mere,” I said, reaching my free hand to the back of his neck.

He squinted in confusion, but he was still smiling.

I wished I could put into words what I was feeling in that moment, but being good at words wasn’t really a Dean Winchester trait.

So I did what Dean Winchester always did in situations like this, and jumped head first into the fire.

Cass gasped as our lips met.

I kept my eyes closed as I pulled away.  I wasn’t ready to face to the consequences of what was potentially a total clusterfuck.

“You could kiss me back,” I whispered, trying to sound casual and flirty and not whiny and pathetic, missing the mark pretty spectacularly.

“Dean,” he growled, and that was all the warning I got before I was pinned against the tree, being kissed to within an inch of my life.

Cass didn’t seem to mind being in the driver’s seat, once he had permission.

I let go.

- 15 -

“I think I wanna re-open Singer Salvage,” I decided, staring up at the stars through the redwoods.  The only light was a little flashlight I had beside me, so the whole sky was frigging spectacular.

“Do we have to move to Sioux Falls?” Cass asked, fingers running up and down my arm lazily.  Apparently we were a ‘we’ now.

“I dunno,” I said.  “I mean, the bunker’s home.  I don’t think I could leave.  Don’t think I want to.”

“There’s plenty of places in Lebanon to operate a junk yard,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“I’ll support you however I can,” he offered.

“You bein’ the supportive boy-…?” I started and faltered.

“Yes.”

I breathed out slowly.  “Cass?”

“Yes, Dean?”

I shifted on the blanket I’d spread out on the cold ground, propping myself up on my side so I could look him in the eye.

Cass met my gaze easily.

I looked away.  Nope, I wasn’t actually that brave.  I settled on blindly groping for his trenchcoat and clinging to it instead.

He waited patiently.

“Cass,” I said, my voice coming out weirdly high.  I cleared my throat.  “All this… you know, flirting…”

“I am familiar with it,” he agreed, letting his fingers slide up my arm again.

I bit my lip.  “Yeah, but…”

I didn’t know what to say.

Cass settled his hand on my hip, leaning in closer.  “You gave me permission to flirt with you,” he murmured into my ear.

“Uh-huh, I did,” I said, nodding dazedly.

“You gave me permission to ogle you,” he continued, his breath against my ear making me all… tingly.

“Yeah, and you sure took advantage of that one,” I tried to joke even though my mouth was going dry.

“And you gave me permission to kiss you,” he said, but it sounded almost like a question.

I swallowed.  “Yeah,” I admitted.

Cass breathed out a sigh that sounded a lot like relief.  “So I think we can dispense with the pretenses, Dean.”

“All I got is pretenses,” I tried to protest.

“I know,” he said gently, then pressed a kiss to my temple.  It was sweet and soft and made my eyes prick.  “But you can let go now, Dean.”

“Don’t think I can,” I whispered.

“Then we’ll take our time,” Cass murmured, this time kissing my cheek.  He seemed to hesitate for a moment, before asking, “I’m not crossing a line?”

“You’re not crossing a line,” I assured him, finally working up the guts to slide an arm around him and pull him into a hug.

“You have to tell me if I do,” he whispered into my hair.

I could feel how uncertain he was, and it sucked.  “I know I haven’t been clear, but… you know.  Me, too.”

I could feel Cass’s squint without having to see it.  “You, too, what?”

“You know,” I repeated, because surely if he didn’t get it the first time, he’d get it the second time.  “The thing.”

“Dean,” Cass groaned, sounding very done with my shit.

“I don’t know why I gotta say it,” I complained, pulling away from him and sitting up.

Cass sat up, too, frowning.

I was screwing this up.  “It’s just… it ain’t easy for me.  To say those words.”

“What words, Dean?” he asked, and he really had no clue.  I had screwed this up so royally that he really didn’t know what I was trying to say.

Cass deserved better.

“What you said before you went to the Empty,” I tried to explain.  “That.”

He was quiet for a moment, before asking, “when I told you that I love you?”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding fiercely.

“I do love you,” he said, knocking his knee to mine.

“Me, too, Cass,” I breathed out.

“…you also love yourself?” he questioned me.  “That would be a relief to hear, but-”

He deserved the whole shebang.

“Iloveyoutoo!” I blurted out.

He stared at me, wide-eyed.

“Okay?” I asked, reaching out and tugging on his lapel, hoping the dark hid how red my face was.  “You get it now?  All the flirting?”

“I’m beginning to,” he said, a slow smile creeping across his face.

“Glad that’s all cleared up,” I said, looking anywhere but at Cass and rubbing my nose anxiously.  “So you could… you know, kiss me again.  If you wanted.”

“You were a lot better at flirting when you were unaware that you were doing it,” Cass said with an amused chuckle, but then he leaned in and kissed me again, so I didn’t mind the attack on my character so much.

It also reminded me that while I liked a partner who took the lead, I was a fan-fucking-tastic kisser, and Cass didn’t know what he was in for.

Better at flirting my ass.

Instead of the needy moan I expected, though, Cass made this weird happy noise in the back of his throat that made my heart clench.

“You like that sweetheart?” I hummed at him, lips still touching.

“It is like the birth of a star,” he whispered against my mouth.

“Come again?” I said with a snort.

“Our tongues tangling together,” he clarified.

“Are you writing me poetry?” I laughed, though maybe somewhere deep down I was kinda sorta moved.

“You emblazon poetry on my heart.”

“Cass, you gotta stop with the Pepé Le Pew schtick.”

“I am unfamiliar with this person.”

“Jesus Christ, buddy, he’s a cartoon skunk.”

“I do not wish to be a cartoon skunk…” he reasoned out slowly.  “But I enjoy making you blush.”

“Who the hell is blushing?”

“You,” he replied flatly.

“Well it must be ’cause I’m so embarrassed for you,” I tried to cover for myself.  “Ya know, sayin’ all that cheesy crap.  Em-baaarassing.”

“I’m not embarrassed at all,” he said.  “I will tell you how much I love you in as many ways as I desire, and it will continue to bring that wonderful rosy blush to your cheeks.”

I opened my mouth for a witty comeback, came up with nothing, and just let my lips flap like a fish for a while before settling on, “you’re so lame.”

“You’re the one who loves me,” Cass said with a shrug, trying to sound casual but he was frigging beaming as soon as the word ‘love’ came out of his mouth.

“Guess I’m lame, too, then,” I said, laying back down and staring up at the sky.

For once I felt like I was exactly where I belonged.

- 16 -

We headed out of the park, on the hunt for a greasy spoon open in the middle of the night.

I felt… right.

“Dean, this Pepé Skunk character seems highly problematic,” Cass complained as he scrolled on his phone.

“Dude, it’s Looney Tunes, not, ya know, friggin’ Aristotle,” I tried to explain.

“Aristotle promoted a virtuous character in order to obtain happiness.”

“Guess that counts me out,” I said with a snort.

“At least you are not sexually harassing this cat,” Cass said, squinting at his screen.  “Dean, do you really think that I am like this deviant?”

I groaned.  “It was a joke, Cass.  ‘Cause you were coming on strong?”

He sniffed at that, like he was offended.

I grinned, running my thumb over his.  For some reason, we’d been holding hands since we got in the car.

“I prefer Tweety.”

“Huh?”

“Tweety,” he repeated, like it would all make sense now.  “Of all the Looney Tunes, he is my favorite.”

“Dude, you’re gonna pass over Bugs Bunny for Tweety Bird?”

“I do not care for Bugs Bunny.”

“Blasphemy.”

“It’s a children’s cartoon.”

“Double blasphemy.”

“Dean,” he said, all disapproving.

It made me kinda tingly.

Okay, a lot tingly.

“Shit,” I said as something suddenly occurred to me.

Cass cocked his head to the side.

“What’re we gonna do about Sam?” I asked, frowning.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we can’t tell him,” I explained.

He waited.

“About us,” I clarified.

Cass pulled his hand away from mine like he’d been burned.

I turned to him in confusion.

“If that’s how you feel,” he said stiffly.

“Huh?”

He wasn’t giving an inch.

And then it clicked.  “What?  Cass, no.  That’s not what I meant.”

“I feel the meaning was perfectly clear.”

“No, shit, why do I keep messing this up?” I groaned.  I was starting to realize that the ramifications of my years of denial and repression probably weren’t going to be solved by a single make-out session.  It was going to take a long time and a lotta actions to prove to Cass that I was in this, and what I was about to say probably wasn’t going to impress him all that much.  “I don’t want to tell Sam ‘cause uh… so he uh… I mean he kinda kicked me in the ass about flirting with you, and I don’t want him to know that he was right?”

“…what?”

“He’s just such a damn know-it-all,” I tried to explain.  “He thinks he knows me better than I know myself, and he was all implying that I had feelings for you…”

“Don’t you…?” Cass pointed out tentatively.

“Yeah, obviously,” I said.  “That’s not the point.”

“And the point is…?”

“The point is that if we tell him we’re together after he gave me that big speech, then he’s gonna be friggin’ unbearable in his smarmyness.”

“So you don’t want to tell him because then he would think he was right.”

“Exactly.”

“But he was right.”

“Completely.”

“You just don’t want him to know that.”

“Yes.”

“Dean, you are a complicated human being.”

“I try,” I said with a grin.  I felt like maybe we were back on the same page again.  “Can I have your hand back?”

“I haven’t decided.”

Okay, still in the dog house.

“So we will have to… hide our relationship?” Cass asked.

I had to give it some thought in order to come up with a plan to both appease Cass and torture Sam.  “No.”

“But…?”

“We flirt more than ever.”

“Dean, I am not following.”

I felt my grin going a little maniacal.  “The old arm around the back of the couch trick, a lot of gazing into each other’s eyes from questionably close distances, romantically-inclined pet names, ‘accidentally’ brushing up against one another every time we walk past…”

“This sounds about the same as usual.”

I clucked my tongue at him, annoyed.

Cass reached out and laced our fingers together again on the seat.

I was slightly less annoyed, and also I had a brilliant idea.  “We should have sex in his bed.”

“…what…?” Cass said, his voice coming out strangled.

“Yeah, that’s perfect,” I said, pleased that the plan was coming together.  “We ramp up the flirting, and we have sex on every surface available in the bunker, and see how long it takes him to figure it out.”

“You want to have sex?” he asked, sounding confused.

“Yeah,” I said confidently, my cheeks barely even red.  “Lots and lots of sex.”

“Oh.”

Cass was still holding my hand, but he seemed distant.

“Do you… not want to?” I asked, all the junkless comments suddenly coming back to haunt me.

“I want to,” he growled at me.

I swallowed.  “Awesome.”

“Just not in Sam’s bed.”

“It’ll be hilarious.”

“I know I am not the most experienced, but I have no intention of what we do to be hilarious.”

I licked my lips nervously.  “So what are you intentions?”

Cass just quirked his lips at me, and I realized I hadn’t been watching the road and I should really do that.

I cleared my throat loudly.

“According to this plan of yours,” he spoke as though we hadn’t just been sharing a moment of very awkward sexual tension, “I may touch you and flirt with you as much as I desire?”

“That’s the idea, buddy.”

Cass huffed out an annoyed sound.

I squeezed his hand, trying to convey my affection to him without having to actually say it.

He wasn’t pacified, but pushed forward anyway.  “I won’t lie to Sam, but okay, we can play your silly mind games.”

“Silly,” I scoffed.

“Incredibly.”

I huffed out my disdain.

Cass responded by leaning in and pressing a feather-light kiss to my cheek.

Okay, I was a damn tomato.

“I can’t believe I get to do that,” Cass whispered with a sense of wonder.

I squeezed his hand tightly, my eyes on the endless road ahead.

- Postlude -

Me, Cass, and Eileen were hitting the books at the map table, trying to find something useful about trolls for some hunter friends of Jody’s.  Well, Cass and Eileen were hitting the books, and I was playing M.A.S.H.

“Okay, so you’re gonna marry Arnold Schwarzenegger and you’re gonna live in a mansion, and you’re gonna have 35 kids,” I informed Eileen, who was laughing so hard she was crying.

“This game is highly improbable,” Cass complained, wrinkling his nose.

“Want me to do you next?” I asked with a grin.

“I don’t see the point, and we should be reasear-”

“I’ll do Cass,” Eileen chimed in, taking my notebook and ripping a piece out.  “So who do you want to marry?”

“Dean,” he replied solemnly.

“Okay, number one is Dean, so who is number two?”

“There is no number two,” he said with a frown.  “There is only Dean.”

Eileen rolled her eyes.

“The man knows what he wants,” I said, winking at her.  Then I nudged Cass with my elbow.  “Come on, man, play the game.  Eileen was willing to take a chance on the Terminator, and that ended up with 35 kids.”

“Those children are fictitious.”

“Cassssss,” I groaned.

“Fine,” he sniffed.  “Helen of Troy.”

“Helen… of Troy…?” I repeated.

Eileen just snickered, her pen already scratching away on the paper.

“Are we talkin’ like Galyn Görg or…?”

“Not a film representation, the actual Helen of Troy,” Cass said, exasperated.  “She was truly beautiful, though her personality left much to be desired.”

“Is that your type?” Eileen asked, still snickering.

“Unfortunately,” Cass agreed.

“Excuse me,” I said, offended.  “I have a great personality.”

Cass and Eileen exchanged a look that I definitely didn’t like.

“Okay, we’ve got Dean and Helen of Troy, who’s next?” Eileen asked cheerfully.

“Gandhi,” Cass stated.

“I’m sorry, Gandhi?” I scoffed.

“I need at least one option for decent conversation.”

I was beyond offended.  “So you’re gonna marry Gandhi?  You know he’s a… whatsit, a fruitpire!”

Cass just shook his head like I was so beyond dumb it couldn’t be helped.

I glowered at him.

“Number three is Gandhi, got it,” Eileen said writing it down.  “And number four?”

Cass looked me dead in the eye when he said, “Idris Elba.”

I was confused.

He leaned back in his chair, looking satisfied.

“You’re into Idris Elba…?” I asked slowly.

“Yes.”

That really bothered me for some reason.  “What, is he better-looking than me?”

He just shrugged.

I turned to Eileen for support.

She also shrugged.

Why was this bothering me so much?  He’d said that Helen was beautiful and all that, but…

Meanwhile, Cass and Eileen were cheerfully filling in the rest of the answers.

I glowered at them.

Cass leaning in and murmured, “stop sulking,” into my ear, then gave me a little nudge in the cheek with his nose.

I leaned into it, getting all tingly.  So Cass always turned me into John Travolta in Grease, chills multiplying and all that.  Whatever.  “You’re not marrying Idris Elba,” I said, trying to be stern.

“Of course not,” he agreed, resting his cheek on my shoulder and gazing up at me.  “He’s already married.”

I made a face at him.

“And you’re the only one I want.”

I sniffed at that.

Cass grinned at me, directing my mouth to his.

I begrudgingly allowed it.

Eileen cleared her throat loudly.

We pulled away just in time for a, “so get this…”

Cass and I both put on our innocent faces as Sam walked in with his nose buried in a book.

“There’s records of trolls being killed in Norse tradition,” he continued, still not looking up.

I made kissy lips at Cass.

He gave me an exasperated look.

I snickered.

“Are you even listening?” Sam complained, finally looking at us.

“Yes,” Cass said, at the same time that I emphatically declared, “nope.”

“We’re kind of busy here, Sam,” Eileen said with a frown.  “Cass, tell me when,” she said, starting to dot her pen furiously on the paper.

Cass looked perplexed.

“You gotta tell her when to stop,” I explained.

He squinted for a long moment, before finally declaring, “stop.”

“Are you playing… M.A.SH.?” Sam asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Duh,” Eileen said, counting the dots and then counting her way down the list to cross things off.

“And that’s the important thing you’re doing instead of listening to me about how to kill trolls?”

“Definitely,” I agreed.

Sam turned his incredulity on me.  “Didn’t you say that M.A.S.H. is game for 13-year-old girls who want to… ‘braid each other’s hair’?”

“Yes,” I confirmed.

He gave me an expectant look.

“I ain’t playin’,” I said with a shrug.  “Let the girls have their fun.”

“Dean started it,” Cass pointed out unhelpfully.

I clucked my tongue at that.

He gave me a very shit-eating grin.

“Okay,” Eileen announced, putting down her pencil, “the results are in.”

Cass cocked his head to the side.

“You are going to live in a shack,” she said, shaking her head.  “And you’re going to work as a bikini inspector.”

I threw my head back and laughed from my gut.

“That does not sound like a real job, and I certainly did not offer it to you as a potential career path,” Cass complained, brow furrowed.

“I had to improvise,” Eileen said with a shrug.  “On the upside, you’re going to drive the Batmobile.”

“Awesome,” I said.

“And you’re going to marry Dean.”

“This fortunetelling game told you that?” Cass asked, suddenly taking the game very seriously now that my hand was on the line.

“It did.”

“Dean, we’re getting married,” he said, turning to me with a big, dorky smile.

"Let me call the florist,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Really?” Sam interrupted, looking huffy.

“Really what?” I asked.

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“Uh, what doesn’t bother me?”

“That Cass wants to marry you?”

“Should it bother me?”

Sam made a disgusted noise.

“Does it bother you?” I shot back, trying to hide my grin.  “You some kinda homophobe, Sammy?”

He looked appalled.  “Dude, no, that’s like the opposite of what I’m saying here-”

“Really, ‘cause it sounds to me like you got a problem with a dude wanting to marry another dude…”

“Dean, stop, you know that’s not-”

“If Cass thinks I’m sexy, then Cass thinks I’m sexy,” I said, leaning back in my chair.

“You are very sexy,” Cass confirmed.

“See,” I said.  “The man has good taste.”

Sam looked to Eileen for help.

She held her hands up helplessly, because Eileen was not getting involved.  One might suggest that she actually was getting involved by not letting Sam in on the very obvious truth, but then one would be a dumbass, because not telling Sam was frigging hilarious.

“So what would you say is my sexiest feature?” I asked.

“Your ass,” Cass deadpanned with no hesitation.

I chomped into my bottom lip a little too hard, because he had that whimsical look in his eyes that said he was joking, but he was definitely not joking.

“That’s it, I’m not getting involved in this,” Sam declared, stomping away.

‘He didn’t even tell us about the trolls,’ Eileen signed, trying not to laugh.

“Dean, this is getting mean,” Cass said with a frown.

“Okay, but is it our fault that he’s that friggin’ clueless?”

“Is he, though?” Eileen asked.  “Because you two are acting exactly the same as you were before you were dating.”

“That’s not true,” I protested.

“We were engaging in a lot of flirting,” Cass pointed out.

“Yeah, but it was, you know, unintentional.”

“It was very intentional on my part.”

“Yeah, okay, but…”

Cass thumbed along my jaw, smiling fondly.

I swallowed.  “It’s uh intentional now.  On my part.”

“I got that,” he said, still smiling.

“We all got that,” Eileen pointed out, “except for Sam.”

“I told Cass we should have sex in your bed and maybe he’d figure it out.”

Eileen wrinkled her nose, then her expression shifted to intrigued, then went back to nose-wrinkling.  “Please don’t.”

“Well how else is he gonna know?”

“You could… tell him?” Cass suggested.

“Nah, where’s the fun in that?”

“I’m sorry our liaisons are not ‘fun’.”

“I ain’t sayin’ that,” I protested, poking him in the side.  “They’re just more fun when they’re a sordid secret.”

“And you developing the mental maturity to have a proper conversation with your brother about the status of your romantic life would be like… you having the mental maturity to realize that your ‘unintentional’ flirting was in fact intentional,” Cass said.

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled.

“So, Dean, are you ready for your turn?” Eileen asked, holding up the M.A.S.H. paper.

“Nah, I don’t need to know my future,” I said, shaking my head.

“Dean, this is hardly an accurate fortunetelling device,” Cass put in.  “I am certainly not going to become a… ‘bikini inspector’, and it is highly unlikely that Eileen will wed Conan the Barbarian.”

I grinned at the reference.  “Yeah, sure, but I kinda like how life is goin’ right now, and I’d rather, ya know, keep goin’, and uh be in charge of my own destiny and all that crap.”

“Okay, I’m putting ‘daytime talk show host’ as your first job option,” Eileen said, scribbling away on her paper.  “Is Catherine Bach spelled with a ‘c’ or a ‘k’?”

“A ‘c’,” I affirmed, already lost in thoughts of Daisy Duke.

“At least wait until I leave the room,” Cass said, rolling his eyes.

“Uh-uh,” I said, shaking my head, because now Daisy Duke and Cass were together in my fantasy, and that was just awesome.

Cass squinted at me like he could read my mind.  Which he probably could.  “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he complained.

I grinned, waggling my eyebrows at him.

He sighed with long-suffering.  “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know,” I said, lacing our fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world.  “You’re lucky I love you, too.”

Sam’s voice rang through the bunker with a resounding, “I knew it!”

#fanfiction #it's called flirting dumbass isola #oof

[tendercoretroglodyke]

watching the ep where the funky lil jewish guy flirts with dean specifically to make him uncomfortable :)

#but dean doesnt know that! hes not even uncomfortable really hes just caught off guard and pretty flattered! #when dean realizes he was flirting he looks over his shoulder like 'no one can see me flirt with a man bc im so repressed boo hoo hoo' #this guy: 'i saw you here and i thought id wait until you were done with your meeting and then maybe we might... uh... i dunno?' #dean: 'yeah! uh-- uh okay. ....BUT NO!' #like dean LITERALLY said oh you wanted to do something after this? yeah ok! WAIT no dean stop you're on a case get it together man #i say im watching this ep im really just watching these parts lmao #dont care much for nazi or jewish tradition stories written by goyim! #spn for ts

[wormstacheangel]

Suptober Day 6: Cemetery Boys

wc: 1.3k tags: hunter!cas, human!cas, destiel au, case fic, a little grave digging and flirting never hurt anybody

This. This was the worst part of the job; Dean concludes as he shovels away another patch of dirt. He cringes when he realizes that actually the people dying are the worst part but digging up a grave is a close second.

“I am...never...playing that...stupid...fucking game. Again!”

He hated rock, paper, scissors anyways. Couldn’t they play darts or cards to settle bets? Why do they have to play such a childish game? And why does he always fucking lose?

Dean throws the dirt over his shoulder with ache arms. Sam suggested someone had to stay with the pretty girl and protect her from the ghost of some old-timey creep. So, now Sam is somewhere comforting the college cheerleader while Dean is struggling to climb out of the hole. He just needed a second—a minute.

Fuck, he needed a nap.

He was almost out when he saw someone running towards him.

“Shit!” Dean lost his footing and fell onto his back. Landing back into the grave with a loud groan.

He heard a loud chuckle before he opened his eyes and saw, “Wow. Aren’t you pretty?”

Dean saw the man roll his eyes, but all Dean could think about was how angelic the man looked with the glow of the moon behind him.

“Did I just die and gone to heaven?”

“If heaven is finishing this dig, then yes.” Dean barely heard his words cause he was putty under the voice. The deep fucking voice. “You’re Dean, right?”

Pretty boy knows my name! “Yeah.” Smooth. “Yeah, am I that famous already?”

“Your brother sent me over to check on you.” Pretty boy helped Dean out of the grave, holding his hand out and helping Dean regain his balance by holding a hand to his waist. “Says you were taking too long.”

Was this dude teasing him, or was he dead serious?

“Yeah, well, digging up a dead body isn’t as easy anymore.”

“I don’t think it was ever easy.”

Dean blinked at him, still unable to understand if the dude just had a dry humor or if he was fucking serious.

“Who the fuck even are you?” Dean finally asked, handing the guy the extra shovel before he could even answer.

He watched pretty boy take the shovel and jump into the hole with ease. Already digging when he answers in a deep groan. “I’m Castiel.”

It took a second for Dean to stop hearing the name bouncing off the walls in his brain. “Castiel?”

Cas gave him a slight nod, his lips in a tight line as he started to shovel off the dirt quickly. Dean sat down at the edge of the grave and watched him, enjoying the way his arms and back muscles stretch his shirt, but also in suspicion.

“And what the fuck are you doing here, Cas?”

“I was on my way to this hunt, actually.”

“So you’re a hunter.”

“I thought that was obvious.”

Yeah. Well. “Well, we did all the work already, so you can’t take the credit.”

“I don’t need credit. I just want to help.” Cas was already leaving a pretty good dent. “I was supposed to be here sooner, but my car broke down. Left it on the side of the road, hidden by some trees--can’t really call a mechanic when I have an arsenal in the back.”

Dean jumped in and grabbed his own shovel to help.

“Well, it must be your lucky day, Cas.” Cas looked up at him, eyebrows knitted together. “You are looking at one of thee best mechanics on this side of the country.”

“What about the other side?”

“I’m not so good over there.”

They both cracked a smile. So maybe Cas does have a dry sense of humor. And Dean...well, shit, Dean thinks he likes it.

“After we’re done here, maybe I can give you a ride back to your car? See what I can do.”

Cas was staring at him, almost as if he could see right through him, and Dean wasn’t sure if he liked it, but he sure as fuck can get addicted to being seen.

“I would appreciate that very much. Thank you, Dean.”

“No problem. Maybe that would make us even.” Dean says as his shovel hits something old. He slams the shovel down harder and cracks the wooden box. “Jackpot!”

Cas climbed out of the grave with ease and quickly turned around to help Dean out again. He wanted to show that he could get out all by himself, too, but he didn’t want to lose the opportunity to hold the damn dude’s big rough hands.

Shit. It’s been a while for him.

“Dean?” Dean noticed his gaze had fallen to the other man’s lips. It was formed into a small smile. “The salt?”

He’s a professional! He should not be letting this pretty boy interfere with the job. Since when has this been a rule? Now. He is starting now.

Dean picked up the salt, and before he could pour it out into the grave, he felt a familiar push of something hard knocking him back. He landed hard against a gravestone, his back getting the worst of it, while he heard his name being called out but everything was a little fuzzy. The figure before him, dressed in an old prison uniform, grinned down at him before he took hold of Dean’s neck. It was choking him.

“Dean!”

His vision faded as he tried to fight the ghost, but his legs just went through him. But eventually, he fell onto his knees, sucking in the air before a coughing fit started.

He felt strong arms around his shoulders, protecting him. “Come on, Dean. We gotta burn the remains.”

Easy for him to say. He wasn’t just thrown across the graveyard like a damn rag doll.

Dean followed Cas’s lead without complaint, noticing now that the dude had a shotgun in hand. When they reached the grave again, there stood the ghost with the most fucked up grin that made the Joker’s scars look good. It gave Dean the chills, and he started to feel his body freeze up.

“Cas.” Dean tugged at the other guy’s sleeve. His hands felt so weak, and when he looked down at himself, he noticed they were starting to become purple. “Fuck.”

This is how all his victims were found. Shit, that also meant the damn ghost found him pretty enough to kill.

Cas noticed at the same time and gave Dean’s hand a gentle squeeze as he pulled it off of him. He gave Dean an apologetic smile before turning towards the ghost. “If you want him. Take him.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Dean complained as he watched the ghost’s eyes widen as he looked Dean up and down. “If that dirty hand touches me, Cas. You’re dead.”

“Then I suggest you keep him away from you while I burn this bitch.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile. Even while being used as fucking bait, he could find time to find Cas as cute and funny.

Dean did as he was told, ignoring the way his lungs burned with every gasping breath as he tried to fucking run from the ghost. Like the first idiot who dies in a horror movie.

“You could have given me the gun!”

“Get your own!”

“Ass!”

Dean swore he heard laughter.

And just when he was cornered, with nasty fucking claws trying to bury themselves into his chest, the ghost backs away in screams. Burning up from the inside first and slowly spreading. Then, finally, the screams and remains become lost to the wind.

Dean fell back against a grave, his chest still ached along with everything in his body, when he saw Cas run towards him. He slid into his knees and carefully cradled Dean’s head between his hands, looking at him again. Looking at him like he knew him. Cared about him.

“Dean? Dean, you okay?”

Dean wanted to shove those hands away. He wouldn’t have let anyone take care of him like this, but right now, he didn’t care.

“You owe me, Cas. That grimy nasty shit touched me.”

Cas sighed in relief, knowing Dean was fine. Or at least, he was alive.

“I guess I owe you.” Cas helped Dean up. “Maybe after you fix my car?”

“Deal. But buy me breakfast first?”

“Deal.”

#suptober21 #wormstachewrites #destiel #destiel au #fic #i am so sleepy so sorry if this is bad #i hate math

[adrian-the-lonely-writer]

Transitions

A fluffy 'Dean WinchesterXTrans!Male' Reader one-shot where you had come out to Dean, and Dean decided he's going to do everything he can to support you.

“So,” Dean began. His heart was pounding. He rather be facing any number of ghosts and ghouls to avoid fucking this part up. Hell, he’d even take a few demons over this. Anything over these tense emotional moments. Still, he was glued to the bed, hand holding yours. He loved you. He wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of helping you.

“Y-yeah?” You stumbled over your words. You had no idea how your boyfriend was going to handle the news. Tears were threatening to fall over your cheeks as you kept your eyes glued to the floor.

Dean swallowed. Dammit, his brother mentioned something like this in the past. Why couldn’t he remember now? “Well in that case, I suppose we better get you some comfier clothes. C’mon.” He stood up, offering his hand to you. Looking up, you saw that same smile dance across his lips, the same smile you fell in love with. “Wouldn’t want my boyfriend to be uncomfortable.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you jumped into his arms, relief and love washing over you. Dean just chuckled, quietly as he shifted to wrap his arms around you, squeezing you against him. “Thanks Dean…Thank you so much.”

“Of course. You have a different name you like to be called now?”

“Y/N now- I uh, kinda picked it out when I realized I just-”

“Y/N is perfect babe.” His lips left a light little peck at your nose. “C’mon. Sammy’s with Bobby looking for another job, let’s take the day to get you feeling as good as possible, hm? I just had that great poker payout-”

“I thought that was for silver bullets-”

“Pshh. I can win another game or too.” Dean went to smile, but it quickly drooped into a frown. “Your clothes...do they make you feel-” He tried to find the right word.

“Dysphoric? Well I mean a bit. I didn’t exactly have time to choose great clothes when I ran off with you Dean.” Before you could even finish your sentence, Dean was digging through his duffle.

“I was going to drop them off somewhere, they feel a little small.” Dean grinned, poking his head back up. In his hands were an AC/DC shirt and an old pair of jeans. He even pulled out his spare hunting boots. “Might not be the most practical all the time, but we’ll get you some stuff today.”

You tried not to cry once again.

Few minutes later, you found yourself wrapped up in your boyfriend's clothes, in the passenger seat of the car. AC/DC rang out through the speakers. You couldn’t help but smile.

“You...really don’t mind Dean?”

“Mind? Why the hell would I mind?”

“Well you were into me as a-”

“I am into you, period.” Dean smiled a little. “Masculine, feminine, It makes no difference to me. You are still you. So, clothes we’re doing. Not half assed Walmart clothes either, we’re gonna get you some good hunting gear.” You couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that. “Masculine fake IDs from now on, easy enough. Anything else you need?”

“At the moment, I’m not sure...I kinda like what Sam does with his hair so I don’t think I’ll cut it off yet. It isn’t as long as his at the moment anyway.” You giggled at the scrunch in Dean’s nose at the mention of his brother.

“Cute guy with a ponytail never hurts either. Ah. Here’s the shop.”

“Dean this is a mall-”

“Yeah, sporting goods, including guns, bullets, as well as various clothing stores to get you what you need. Plus crowds to blend into. Malls are great Y/N.” He turned into the parking lot, picking a spot somewhere in the middle. “Plus, the impala doesn’t stick out too much here.”

Dean slipped out of his side, opening the door for you before you were even unbuckled. His calloused hand still felt tender as it grasped yours tightly, pulling you towards the store.

Your boyfriend was right after all. The crowds were seamless and the selection would be much greater.

“I’m thinking, we hit the sporting goods store, get some food and supplies. Take our time with it. Then just meet up with Sam and Bobby for the job, sound good Y/N?”

“Sounds perfect Dean.” Your smile was glued to your face as you leaned against his arm walking into the shop Dean had picked. “Is this where you got all your flannels and things?”

“Most of em, yeah. Why? You like that one?” He winked as he saw your cheeks turn a little pink. Sure, you loved the flannel. It made you feel more you, it also smelled like the man you loved more than anything.

“Well it’s nice and warm and-” You tripped over your words again. “Just really nice hunting clothes ya know? Like durable enough you have some protection, it’s also warm enough for nights but I can always open it ya know.”

“Great. So a couple flannels. Some jeans that won’t trip you up. Shirts.” Dean guided you to the clothing area of the store, whipping out his cellphone.

“Dean? Something the matter?” He doesn’t often look at his screen with that much concentration.

“Nope. I was just looking at a size chart.” He matched his screen to a couple of the tags. “These your colors?” He held out some forest green flannel and a black shirt.

“To start with, yeah! Although lighter colors are still nice. I don’t want anything thinking I’m your little brother if I match your style.”

“My style is functional and timeless. Plus, if I had a nickel for everyone who thought Sam and I should-” He scowled as you laughed. You couldn’t help but pick up those books when you saw them. Plus, as prank wars broke out it definitely gave you an upper hand.

“Alright, I concede your style is wonderful Dean.”

“Damn right it is.” He smiled a little. “But I get it, c’mon. Let’s walk around and see what catches your eye.”

The two of you scoured the store from top to bottom. Dean’s arms quickly became laden with fabric as you both approached the fitting rooms.

“Find everything you need sir, and-?” The guy in charge of the rooms spoke.

“Sir.” You introjected. Your heart rate spiked a little. Dean’s hand rested on your shoulder as he nodded to the cashier, as if confirming what you said.

“Of course, right this way. Here is your room, sir.” Without batting an eye the cashier escorted you back to try on your new wardrobe.

“Give 'em hell babe!” Dean called after you, taking his seat. He fiddled with his phone. Sam had finally convinced him to upgrade, and this one had a camera on it.

Quickly, pulse racing, you put on the first outfit of clothes, and slipped outside to model for Dean. Your nerves subsided when met with that goofy grin of his, and you couldn’t help but match it.

“You look amazing.”

“I feel amazing.”

“Wanna try more?” Dean snapped a photo. “That’s gonna be my new cell wallpaper.” You stuck your tongue out to him, a look he cheekily returned.

You went through this a few more times. Different mixed and matched outfits and hunting gear. Dean flirting with you every time you slipped into his sight. Soon you had a week's worth of clothes, with some extras to wear during a wash. Eventually you made it towards the food court, carrying the bags. You both went immediately to the burger stand and sat down.

“Fucck~” Dean’s eyes were closed in bliss. “I forgot how amazing these burgers were.”

“God we ate at gas stations so much I had forgotten food could be juicy.” You were devouring your burger as ravenous as Dean was. Oblivious to the look he was giving you.

Dean just smiled, chewing as he looked at you. It had only been a few months since you were traveling with him. Demon blooded kid like Sammy, you wanted to be able to help. Truthfully you were thankful they accepted.

Dean sometimes kicks himself at night for almost saying no. He had fallen for you, hard, the first time you rode in the back of the car. The way your eyes lit up as his own music started to play. The way you got along with Sam. He had fallen hard. You were perfect in his eyes now as you were then.

“Dean?...” Your voice was quiet, head against the window. After eating Dean had loaded you and your new things into the impala before starting to make your guy’s way to Bobby's place.

The excitement of the day had driven your eyelids to a close by this point. The soft rumblings of the engine were lulling you to sleep. Dean’s hand found yours once more, with a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah babe?”

“I love you Dean…”

“I love you too Y/N.” His words were the last things you heard before finally succumbing to sleep.

Dean drove on, hand never leaving yours. He had found the best boyfriend in the world, and he intended to keep things that way.

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #fanfic #trans man #trans pride #trans reader #pride #dean winchester x transreader #transmasc #trans ftm #gay ftm #ftm

[wearywinchester]

Been Loving You

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: After never having the nerve to tell each other how you feel, an opportunity presents itself even if it takes a little work.

Requested by Anonymous: Hi! Since your requests are on. Can you write a fluff/angst dean and reader fic, they both have feelings for each other and they're too insecure to admit it. And dean flirts with another girl and introduces her to the reader, reader acts like she's fine but then cries??

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: angst, flirting, mild heartbreak, jealousy, arguing, little bit of swearing, fluff, kissing

July, 2005

The day was breezy and warm, the clouds having lessened the heat that came with being in the midst of the summer season. Even if the clouds did nothing to stave off the effect of the sun you’d like to believe it actually had been, and you refused to think otherwise or else you just might break another sweat. You were tucked away in the middle of Bobby’s property amongst a lot full of cars ranging from totaled to rusty to salvageable should he feel like getting his hands dirty that day. He didn’t.

But one person that did was Dean Winchester.

You stood with your arms crossed over your chest, staring out over the dozens of car roofs, each one holding their own story as to just how it was they got there in the first place.

“Wrench,” Dean called out at some point, an instruction you only half heard. It was growing increasingly obvious that your mind was elsewhere, that your attention was directed at the puffy gray clouds in the distance. He’d noticed, peeking his head around the Impala from where’d he’d been working under the hood for an amount of time you lost track of. “Sweetheart, wrench.”

You turned your head at the nickname, a brief look of confusion crossing your face before you realized what it was he’d said. You rolled your eyes at the look on his face, one that softened to a smile as you handed over the wrench grasped in your hand. He took it with a shake of his head and a laugh not quiet enough for you to miss, and you breathed out a sigh.

“You’re a terrible helper, you know,” he jests, voice muffled from where he stood.

“Pretty sure I didn’t ask to help you, De,” you say, leaning back against an old truck.

“Too bad,” he says, flashing you a smile all while you furrowed your brows and pursed your lips at his words.

“Why not have Sam help you? I’m sure he knows more about cars than me.”

You heard him laugh again, head shaking at your assumption that Sam had any form of a clue on how to fix a car, let alone Dean’s car. The thought of Sam under a hood had him chuckling, the idea all too humorous. He pulled back to look at you. “First of all, he definitely wouldn’t. Second of all…”

He trails off, looking at you with a half smirk on his lips.

“What?” You inquire, amused curiosity in your tone.

“Sammy’s just not you,” he shrugs, a glimmer in his eyes as he leans back over the engine.

Your smile falls for just a moment as your heart skips a beat, that very smile returning once you realize just what it was that he had said. He’s just not you. You turned away and looked over your shoulder, a pitiful attempt to hide the way you couldn’t stifle your smile, your cheeks burning at what it was that could mean. Maybe it meant something and maybe it didn’t. But either way it’d surely be stuck on your mind for a ridiculous amount of time.

But soon your attention turns back to the very person that it’s always been on, and you were bound to be teased if he’d caught you staring but the thought didn’t sound quite so bad at that moment. In your defense, it was hard not to think about much else other than the way his brows furrow when he’s stumped on just what he wants to fix next, or the way his cheeks flushed ever so lightly under the sun, his freckles all the more prominent across the bridge of his nose. Smudges of grease had stained his t-shirt, painted across his knuckles and smeared on his forehead each and every time he’d wiped the sweat off with the back of his hand.

Maybe it was that, or maybe it was the way his necklace had dangled down and swung there until he finally got irritated enough to tuck it in his shirt with a mumble of a swear and a clench of his jaw. That was something, though—no matter how frustrated repairing this beloved car of his made him, no matter how much he huffed and puffed and tossed his tools down with a bit more force than necessary. It was the way his anger seemed to melt each time he’d looked at you, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile before he turned to try again with a better attitude.

Yeah, that was it.

You hadn’t realized just how distracted you’d been until you felt a hand on your cheek, calloused and warm, and when you looked up your eyes met the taunting green gaze of the older Winchester staring down at you. Your breath caught in your throat as the pad of his thumb brushed along your cheek, cheeks that burned under his palm and the way he’d been gazing had your heart pounding in your chest. Racing until you saw the familiar quirk pulling at his lips.

“Got a little somethin’ on your face,” he says, smiling an all too knowing smile.

You roll your eyes, turning away from him with a huff as you begin to walk away. “I’m eating the last slice of pie for that.”

You heard the metallic clink of a tool leave his hand and hit the ground, “no—no you’re not! That has my name on it and you know it.”

You shake your head as you quicken your pace, a smile on your lips as the butterflies in your stomach remain.

October, 2005

You stood in the small, one person bathroom, back to the mirror as you leaned against the small porcelain sink. The tears were already rimming your eyes as you stood there, having been at that same restaurant for forty-five minutes waiting for your date to show up even though you knew it’d been a bust after you’d waited the first fifteen minutes. You were miserable and embarrassed, and this was the exact reason you didn’t like going on dates in the first place.

Your hand was shaky as you pressed Dean’s name, holding your phone up to your ear as it rang all but two times.

He’d make a joke when he answered the phone, something you more than expected by that point each and every time you called him, especially when he knew you were on a date with a guy he’d been poking fun at the whole ride to the restaurant until he’d dropped you off. You couldn’t blame him, maybe you could, but that was just in his nature and there was no changing that.

“Was brown eyes that boring?”

His laugh sounded on the other end, lighthearted and upbeat in a way that had a soft huff leaving your lips as you rolled your eyes at his words.

“Dean,” you grumble, letting your eyes fall closed for a moment.

“Oh, come on. You know I’m not wrong. I just—”

“Dean.”

The simple use of his name that time had effectively cut him and his teasing short, leaving a beat of silence as you swallowed thickly now that you had his full attention. You didn’t even need to see him to be able to picture just what kind of expression he’d been wearing at the moment.

“Can you come pick me up?”

You hated how fragile your voice sounded, something you immediately cover up as you clear your throat in a pitiful attempt to distract him from it. You knew it wouldn’t but it was worth the effort anyway, anything to ease the fact that it must have been obvious that you were hurting.

It’d been all of ten minutes before the rumble of an engine came into earshot as you sat on the curb that bordered the restaurant, gathering more than a few stares of people showing up with their dates in tow. You knew it must have been obvious what you were moping about. The headlights were near blinding as he pulled up next to you, and you were on your feet in an instant as you sulked to the car and slumped in your rightful seat. Your misery was more than evident to him as he sat in the parking lot for a minute much to your dismay.

“Are you okay?” He asks, louder than he meant to be as he gave you a once over.

“Peachy.”

He rolls his eyes. “Are you hurt?”

“Just my ego,” you mumble with a huff, though you soften at the concern sounding in his voice. “‘M fine, Dean.”

His jaw tensed as he looked at you, lingering on the glimmer on your cheeks from the fresh tears you’d tried to wipe away. At the way your bottom lip quivered in a way that was all too telling that you weren’t peachy, you couldn’t be farther from it.

He hadn’t even wanted you to go on that date in the first place, jealousy having simmered in the pit of his stomach since the moment you told him about it. He didn’t even need to see the guy to know he wasn’t good enough for you, that he was up to no good. He hated the tone of your voice when you called him, he hated that he was right. Not that he thought he was good enough for you, not even remotely did he think that, but when you told him about brown eyes, he wanted to be selfish and have you to himself for the night. He wanted to be the one to take you out on that date.

“He’s a dick,” he said quietly, anger woven around his words as he looked at you. “And he damn sure doesn’t deserve you.”

You looked down at your lap, picking at the loose string of your dress. “Can we please go?”

He looked at you as you went and looked out of the window, jaw clenching even tighter as he gave you one more glance. He put the car in drive without another word, tires squealing as he sped out of the parking lot, headed back towards the motel.

March, 2006

The sticks cracked beneath two pairs of muddied boots, the sound near deafening in contrast to the silence amongst the woods you and Dean had found yourself in. It wouldn’t have been quite so bad if you knew where you’d been going even just a little bit, and it wouldn’t have been quite so bad if the sun wasn’t dipping lower and lower into the sky. Not to mention the fact that Dean was simmering in his own anger, and you were fairly certain that you were the cause. In fact, you knew you were.

The light rain that sprinkled over you ever so slightly through the trees hadn’t done very much to work in your favor, though you don’t think anything could at this point. Especially not the scrape grazing your cheek.

“Would you quit huffing? We’ll find a way out of here,” you finally say, nearly smacking into his back when he stops in front of you.

“Right, because we’re totally not stuck in the middle of freakin’ nowhere. If it weren’t for you we’d be out of here by now,” he snaps, brows furrowed deeply as he looks down at you.

“Oh, so this is my fault now?”

He laughed then, humorless as he looked away and shook his head, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. You knew he was dangerously close to snapping, more than he already did, but even then you couldn’t find it in yourself to tread lightly.

“If I recall correctly, it was your brilliant plan to go and run off and chase a werewolf all by yourself in the woods. You went and got yourself hurt and you nearly got yourself killed. That seems a lot to me like how we got into this mess, doesn’t it, Y/n?”

“Dean—”

“You’re lucky you only came out of there with a scrape on your cheek and a busted lip.”

Your brows knit together and your fists clench, nearly on the verge of tears with how frustrated you’d been at the green eyed Winchester fuming in front of you. “Why are you so mad? I’m here aren’t I?”

He looked as if you’d asked the most ridiculous question he’s ever heard in his life. “Mad? Why am I so mad? You went out there today like you’re invincible. I’m angry because I—”

He cut himself short then, shaking his head as he looked away from you. Those three words were so close on the tip of his tongue he nearly made a fool of himself, his heart pounding and a huff puffing through flared nostrils as you nearly watched him unravel in front of you. The crease between your brows deepens as you watch his inner turmoil, fists relaxing at your sides.

“Forget it,” he says, just as frustrated as he plays it off and looks down at you just briefly. His jaw clenches once more before he hikes his bags up further in his shoulder, grabbing your hand and turning his back to you. “Can’t have you getting lost on me again.”

You roll your eyes but not once did you pull your hand from his.

July, 2006

Your eyes rolled for what had to be the millionth time that night as you slumped further down in your seat, your eyes lingering on the older Winchester and the girl he’d been flirting with at the bar counter for the last half an hour. Sam had caught on to the source of your misery not long after it began, but between the pout you tried so desperately to hide and the way it started right around the time his brother started talking to the pretty girl serving drinks just a few feet away, it wasn’t hard to figure out.

“Am I boring you?” Sam jests, closing the book of notes and newspaper clippings he’d been working from for the next hunt. Your gaze lifts from the table to meet his gaze, unamused by his teasing. “You know, instead of sulking, you could tell him how you feel.”

You snort as you sit up in your seat, dragging your hand down your face. “Sam, that might be the stupidest idea you’ve ever had.”

“Oh, come on. Would it be so bad?”

One glance over your shoulder had your stomach churning and twisting in knots, your gaze moving back to the brunette with the bad ideas. “Yes Sam, it would be terrible.”

The more you sat at that table the less you wanted to be there, the music having grown far too loud for your liking as a headache began to form. This wasn’t the first or the second time you’d been to this bar, it was the third because Dean had eyes for the beautiful bartender. Your food was nearly completely untouched and your drink the same, though you were starting to think it might be a good idea to go ahead and down it but there wasn’t nearly enough time to do that and get another argument in with Sam before that ever familiar voice got your attention.

“Everyone,” he starts, smiling ear to ear as his arm wrapped around her. “I’d like you to meet Julie.”

His grin was beaming as she laughed into his neck, whispering something in his ear that you surely didn’t want to know. Sam’s smile in your direction was as empathetic as ever, your heart sinking down to your stomach as you swirl your straw in your drink. The room was rapidly becoming more suffocating and stuffy, the commotion near nauseating as the pressure behind your eyes deepened. You couldn’t be there another moment.

“I’m feeling a little tired, I—I think I’m gonna go,” you say as you swallow down the lump in your throat, sudden as you rise from your seat and grab your bag.

The smile on Dean’s face fell slightly, brows furrowing. “You okay?”

“‘M fine,” you say, offering a smile as you brush past the pair in favor of making your way to the door.

The outside air, though not very much cooler than the bar, felt better on your skin as you clutched the strap of your bag. The tears that welled in your eyes wasted no time in spilling over your cheeks now that you were alone, lip quivering pitifully as the hurt in your heart seeped out in waves and made your tears fall faster. They rolled down your heated cheeks and raced along the length of your neck, gathering on the collar of your shirt one after another.

Falling in love with your best friend doesn’t seem so bad until it breaks your heart.

September, 2006

Of all the people to be trapped in a storm with, Dean Winchester isn’t one you’d wanted it to be. The rain had been coming down so hard you could barely see the Impala parked outside the motel room. The wind whipping around had cut the power, effectively stealing your chances of busying yourself with some tv to take your mind off of anything other than the man you shared a room with.

Locking yourself in the bathroom would certainly be an option you’d weighed over more than once in your mind, but the thought of sitting alone in a small room with absolutely no source of light hadn’t been something that enticing to you. The only light in the motel room was the frequent flash of lightning and Dean’s flashlight before the batteries died.

“When’s this storm supposed to die down?” He asked from his bed, getting up to peek out through the blinds.

“Why? You late for a date with Julie?”

It’s quiet for a few moments, the blinds snapping back once he lets go of them and you could feel his stare on you as you looked up at the ceiling from your spot on your bed. Your jaw clenched as another flash of lightning illuminated the room, a booming crack of thunder soon to follow it. You were just waiting for what he had to say.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” There it was.

“I think it’s pretty clear,” you say, tone as witty as it’d been for the last who-knows-how-long.

“We broke up a month ago, Y/n. ‘M surprised you don’t already know that. You know, since you’re the know it all of the friendship.”

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see you, a huff falling past your lips. “Quit it, Dean.”

“What is your problem, Y/n? You’ve been actin’ funny for weeks and it’s driving me crazy. You’re taking every chance you get to get away from me,” he says, anger woven around his every word as his voice raises over the thunder.

“I can’t exactly do that right now,” you say, rolling over on your side as you avoid his question and turn your back to him instead.

You heard him laugh to himself, one void of humor as the springs of his mattress squeak under his weight as he sat down. Your jaw tenses once more as you huff through your nose, loud enough for him to hear as you tried your best to make yourself comfortable for the night.

The emotions clouding your mind were bound to boil over at some point before the night is over now that you’d been stuck with the source of your heartache and you weren’t sure if you’d rather stay or walk through the downpour coming down outside. The more you thought on it, the more you thought better of it despite how tempting it may have been.

The simple sight of him had tugged at your heart, making you think of just how foolish it was to fall for your best friend, or perhaps even more so that you hadn’t told him before. You couldn’t get Sam’s words out of your head no matter how hard you tried. If Sam of all people thinks you should have then maybe it wouldn’t have been a bad idea to put your heart on the line. Maybe you should’ve said it, you certainly had plenty of opportunities to do it. But it didn’t matter anymore, not really, your heart was heavy and your mind was heavier as you sulked and moped in your own misery.

You pushed away your own best friend and it was time you’d never get back, all because you had feelings you couldn’t swallow down. But they were always there, and now they’d gone and boiled over.

“You wanna know why it didn’t work out between us?” He asks, sudden as his question cuts through the quiet in the room save for the ongoing storm. You don’t say a word, laying still as your gaze is fixed on the wall and your back remains to him. You don’t know what he could possibly say or what it was supposed to make you feel but you couldn’t find it in yourself to press for an answer. If he told you, fine, but if he didn’t—

“It didn’t work because she wasn’t you.”

You stilled even more if that was possible, your heart skipping more than a few beats as your brows furrow. You were utterly baffled, unsure if you’d even heard him correctly or if it was some dream you’d been having that you were bound to wake up from. Your movement was sudden as you sat up and turned around, the faint bit of light illuminating the expression you held.

“What?”

He sat across from you on the edge of his bed, brows knit together in the dim lighting. He laughed softly as he looked at his hands, shaking his head. He stood to his feet and ran his hands through his hair, pacing a bit before he stood still.

“You’re my best friend, Y/n. You’re a pain in the ass, sure, but you’re my best friend,” he starts, your lips pursing as he cracked a smile. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it lately, I really don’t. But I’ve been lovin’ you since I was sixteen and it took me ten years and a month full of you ignoring me to see it. She’s not you, Y/n.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He laughed softly, rubbing his face and releasing a sigh.

“Because, my life isn’t exactly a chick flick where the guy gets the girl of his dreams, is it, sweetheart? It’s more of a tragic Lifetime movie where the guy’s best friend falls for someone else,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he looked at his feet.

You swallowed thickly as you looked at him, cheeks burning and stomach filled with butterflies that raged in your stomach. You were at a loss for words as you sat there, starting to wonder for the second time that night if what you were hearing was a dream. Dean Winchester, your best friend, the one you’d spend the better part of ten years pining after, was in love with you. You couldn’t grasp that thought. Not that you had much time to before he spoke up.

“Sweetheart, please say something. I know you’re mad at me but right now I’m starting to feel a little bit like a complete idiot and I—”

Before he could finish you’d already stood to your feet and grabbed the collar to his leather jacket, your lips on his without second thought. It took him by surprise for just a moment before his hands settled on your face, his smile pressing into your lips. You pulled away for just a second, his lips lingering over yours in hopes you wouldn’t stray too far. You wouldn’t, just enough for you to say one more thing.

“You are an idiot.”

He huffed out a soft laugh as his breath brushed warmly against your lips, hands dropping from your face in favor of pulling you closer before he dipped down and kissed you again.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @dean-is-sams-apple-pie @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes

#dean winchester #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst

[let-them-read-fics]

Blackpink HC / One Shots: Enemies to Lovers, College AU (1/2)

Requested: Yes

Warnings / Misc. -- Bickering, Rivalry, Fluff

A/N: Hey everyone! Anon, I assume you wanted to see each individual relationship with the girls and not OT4 x Reader. If not, I apologize, but I hope you enjoy this regardless.

This post includes Jisoo and Jennie. If you would like to see Rosé and Lisa's, click the link below.

Click for Rosé and Lisa

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Jisoo

Kim Jisoo: The girl at the top of her class, breezing through her school years with little competition whatsoever. She was used to winning, and anyone that ever tried to challenge her eventually gave up.

You: Also used to being at the top of your class, you were the first person to actually give Jisoo a run for her money. You didn't shy away when challenged by her, and that took her aback.

Your rivalry was one rooted in academics.

When a new project was assigned and you were allowed to choose your teammates, everyone would flock to the two of you in hopes of getting picked.

Bragging rights were awarded to whoever had the longest line of people.

Impatiently waiting to see who scored higher on tests.

Rubbing it in when you did better, and vice versa.

"Ha! Take that, Jisoo. I got a 98."

"Don't get cocky, Y/N. I beat you by 6 points last week."

"Yeah, yeah," you brush her off. "Look who's on top now." You hold your paper up, smiling when she rolls her eyes.

Other competitions were held, and even the teachers caught on and would adjust their lessons accordingly.

"Class, today we'll be having a set of one on one debates, and an anonymous vote will determine the winner of each. The person who defends their opinion the most effectively will win. Jisoo and Y/N, you're up first."

Although losing was always annoying, it made you respect each other a little more.

You both loathed and revered each other, though you'd never let that secret out.

Fighting for the best scholarships and rankings.

Constant bickering and one liners in class

"Should I go ahead and apologize now, or is it okay to wait?"

"Apoligize for what?"

"Ending your career."

*unintelligible mumbling*

"What was that, Y/N?" Jisoo inquires, cocking her head to the side as she narrows her eyes at you.

"I said: you're going down."

She scoffs at that, unaffected. "Please, I'd like to see you try."

You ended up winning that day, and she was all *surprised pikachu*

School would always be interesting and eventful with her

Pretty much everyone else can tell that you have a thing for one another, but the two of you remain oblivious.

Turning Point

Both of you joined the academic team when you enrolled, which meant that you'd be going toe to toe with other school teams in pursuit of the winning title.

On one of your overnight field trips to face off against another school, you were assigned to the same hotel room.

"Mrs. Wilson, I can't stay with her--" You walk down the hotel hallway behind your instructor, hoping she'll see your point. Her reasoning for putting you together on the roster is beyond you.

"Y/N, it's only for a night. You know we can't afford to give all of you individual rooms; our budget's already small." She reasons, eventually turning towards you when she reaches the elevator.

"Alright," you relent with a sigh, putting your hands up.

What she says next surprises you. "Who knows, you might enjoy it." A knowing look shines in her eye, and a small smirk threatens to tug at her features.

The elevator dings just as you go to question her about it, and she bids you farewell before heading in.

You can do this, Y/N. It's just one night; how bad can it be? You ask yourself, taking your sweet time in going back to the room.

---

An Hour Later

In an attempt to kill some time and recover from the fatigue your long road trip brought on, you've been trying to relax and take a nap. In fashion with your typical luck, though, Jisoo is making that nearly impossible.

"Jisoo, turn it down!" You groan, tossing a pillow at her head. She sits on the loveseat at the foot of your bed, completely fixated on the images flashing before her eyes as she plays her video game.

"Shhh, stop distracting me." She says over her shoulder, making you huff.

You value your pride too much to ask nicely, so you suck it up and stick it out for a little while longer. When she lets out a loud shout a few minutes later, though, you've reached the end of your patience.

Wordlessly, you get out of bed and stomp over to the TV, standing directly in front of it.

"Y/N, move! I'll lose!"

You stay there with your arms crossed, and are soon rewarded by the game's voiceover announcing: "Game over."

She huffs and sets her controller down, clearly upset.

"Sucks when people don't listen, huh?" You challenge, still mad that you've been denied a proper nap for so long. Every time you'd be right on the cusp of being drug under, slipping in and out of glorious slumber, she'd do something to ruin it. You're cranky now, and being petty seems like a just punishment for her.

"I can't believe you did that," she shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "That was the championship match!"

"Oh well," you shrug, a smirk tugging at your lips at that new piece of info. Perhaps justice has been served after all.

With one more warning glance at her to tell her not to do it again, you go back to the bed and get comfy, settling under the warm blankets.

---

30 Minutes Later

"ON YOUR RIGHT, ABOUT TO ROUND THE CORNER!" Jisoo bellows out, smirking when she feels you stir behind her. You scowl, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

"Jisoo, I swear to God," you grumble, feeling the irritation rise in you all over again. You get up again and approach her, but she has a plan this time. In one fluid motion, she sticks her foot out in front of you, making you stumble and fall to the ground.

"What the--" as you prepare to reprimand her, you see something out of your peripheral. Aided by your new perspective, you spot the remote controller on the coffee table right in front of you, just an arm's length away.

When Jisoo notices that you haven't screamed at her yet, she looks down and realizes her mistake. A dramatic moment passes where you both lock eyes, before immediately diving for the remote. You manage to get to it first, quickly hugging it close to your body and rolling away from her. She pounces a second later, reaching her hands around you to pry it from your grip.

"Give it back, Y/N!"

"No!"

You writhe underneath her until she manages to get the upper hand, straddling your hips in an attempt to pin you down. She sits back on her knees, gazing down at you as your chests heave from the effort you've exerted.

"Give it." She commands, holding her hand out expectantly.

You shake your head, amused that she thought that would be enough to sway you. "No."

"Then you leave me no choice." Her hands dart forward to your abdomen, and she begins tickling you mercilessly in order to make you surrender. Calls for her to cease her assault struggle past your lips, but you know it's futile. She's a determined person just like you, and she won't stop until she gets what she wants.

So, after taking a second to think of a way out of your predicament, a brilliant idea pops into your head.

You finally let her pry your arms open, smirking when she cheers and claims victory. In one fluid motion, just as she had done before, you wrap your leg around one of hers and flip her onto her back before leaning down to kiss her. She tenses up at first, but her hands end up working their way to your hips as her lips begin to move against yours.

Your plan is backfiring a bit; you only intended to shock her and buy yourself time to steal the remote back -- you never thought you'd actually enjoy the feeling of her kiss. You tilt your head to the side to get a better angle and slowly skim your hand down to hers, where the device is tightly clutched. Her other hand has come up to your jaw, which she's gently guiding as she steals another kiss from your lips.

Her distracted state made it easy to get what you were after, and soon -- much too soon for Jisoo's liking -- you pull away with a victorious smile. She doesn't know what to say; in all honesty, she's almost forgotten how to breathe with the way you kissed her senseless.

"I win." You grin, hopping off of her and shutting the TV off before crawling back into the bed. She stays in that same position for a couple minutes, laying on the floor as she tries to sort through what the hell just happened. She can't even be upset right now; she brings her fingertips to her lips, skimming them over the heart-shaped pillows as she smiles.

The Fallout

Things were a little tense when you shared the bed that night

Anytime you'd roll over and readjust your head on the pillow in your sleep, unknowingly positioning your lips dangerous close to hers, her heartbeat would pick up and she'd have to roll over again

You pretended to be asleep when she scooted back against you, pressing herself against your front in search of the heat that your body provided. You brought an arm around her, enclosing her in a soft embrace that had her blushing crimson

Subtle flirting at the competition the next day

Sticking up for each other when one of the other teams got a little rude

"Hey, don't talk about her like that!" Jisoo warns, glaring at the student from your rival school. His uniform is mussed and unkempt, leaving it as no surprise that he was the one to say such a thing.

"Why do you care?" He laughs back, spurred on as his friends snicker along.

The question catches her off guard; just days ago, she was the one bantering with you and testing your limits. Now though, when someone else is taking it too far, she can't help but feel angry. "Because she's my teammate. Now knock it off or I'll report you to your dean for unsportsmanlike behavior."

He scoffs, but eventually opts to grumble out another insult and turn away, nursing his bruised ego.

"Thanks, Chu." You quietly say, having witnessed the whole encounter from the row behind her. A small smile tugs at your lips at her actions, warming your heart.

"No problem, Y/N. But you'd better help me beat him; I'm not losing to that idiot." You laugh and agree, shaking her hand to seal your pact. She tries not to get too caught up on the smoothness of your skin or how it reminds her of last night, but her brain doesn't listen.

Needless to say, you beat them.

Your team stopped by a nice restaurant on the way back home for a celebratory dinner

Jisoo sat beside you

Cue the blushing and quiet flirting

It's a new side of her that you're not used to seeing. Now, instead of being all hardcore and witty, a simple look from you can make her blush

It doesn't always, though; sometimes she grows bold and lays a hand on your thigh for a moment, laughing at something you said

It's giving very much so gay panic™️, but you wouldn't trade it for the world

After the dinner, you go back to the bus and sit in your seats (which aren't together, surprisingly).

As you scroll through your phone, you get a text from Jisoo. Attached to the message is an invitation to one of her favorite mobile games.

"Hey, Y/N. Will you be my player 2? 🎮"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Jennie

Jennie Kim: The girl who practically ran the school, always getting her way and never having to lift a finger. She was royalty: the queen bee sat atop her throne, giving orders to the masses that they followed blindly. The whole situation seemed straight out of a poorly-written teenage movie, and it always annoyed you.

You: The girl who stuck to herself, only having a close group of friends that she talked to. You weren't popular, per se, but you weren't cursed to exist at the bottom of the food chain, either. Many people knew you, but you only associated with a select few.

You avoid the "popular" crowd a majority of the time, opting to spend spare time in between classes in the library or outside, doing homework

Jennie is the type of person that has people lined up, waiting for her to ask them to do hers for her. She gets to skip class and do whatever she wants, and she usually takes advantage of that.

She's never been mean to you directly, but you've seen her and her posse pick on people in typical mean girl fashion

You've never noticed the way that she usually targets people who've said bad things about you. She sticks up for you without you even knowing.

So, as you would expect, when your best friend called you and begged you to accompany her to one of the biggest parties of the year (hosted by none other than Jennie's brother), you were definitely surprised. Neither of you are the type to go to anything like that, but you know that she secretly wants to peek into that world of luxury.

"Pleaaaaase, Y/N? I'll do your laundry for a month."

"Fine."

The Turning Point

Your stylish boots crunch lightly against the concrete as you stand outside of the frat house, grimacing when you notice a boy stumble to the side of the house and get sick.

"We might have to bump that offer up to two months," you say to your friend, leaning onto her car as she checks her makeup in the side mirror.

"If it keeps you here for an hour or so, then fine." She smiles, taking your hand and leading you towards the building. Upon opening the door you're immediately greeted by waves of the strong bass of whatever song is playing. Their rhythmic thumps reverberate around the house, and you choose to seek some semblance of peace and quiet by heading to the kitchen. Your friend comes with, and the two of you push your way to the drink bar for refreshments.

"Thanks again for coming along, Y/N/N. You're the best." She leans into you, saying the phrase loud enough for you to hear over the music.

"I know," you hold your head up higher, self-assured. "You'd better go find Benji before things get too wild," you tell her, taking note of how the crowd is quickly growing in size. Benji, her longtime crush, is the only reason you really agreed to tag along; she's been head over heels for him for as long as you've known her, and you see this as the perfect opportunity for her to finally tell him. She needed some backup, and you always come through for your friends.

"Alright, I'll come find you later," she says, nervously smiling as she kisses your cheek as a farewell. You shout encouragement to her retreating figure, grinning wildly when you see her throw her hand up in the air.

Considering you made a drink for her just then before sending her off, you take the time now to make one for yourself. Your hands skim through the air overtop of the different bottles, searching for your favorite flavors and types to mix. As you go to reach across the table for one of them, disaster strikes.

You gasp as cold liquid lands on your shoulder, following gravity's command and rushing down your back and chest. A flurry of apologies follows suit, and you feel a soft hand on the small of your back as you go to turn around.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Jennie says, covering her mouth in shock. For a moment you're worried that she was dared to do this -- that perhaps her friends sent her off to ruin your outfit and embarrass you. When you find sincere regret in her deep brown eyes, though, all of those worries melt away.

"It's alright," you assure her, shaking your arms to get rid of some of the sticky drink that's trailed its way down. You set your half-filled cup on the table, no longer interested in getting anymore now.

"At least let me wash the shirt for you. I have a coat you can wear while its getting clean."

You furrow your brows at the offer, not expecting that from her. Not only has she apologized, which is practically unheard of from the prima donna, but she's willing to do something for another person?

"Uh, okay." You do your best to mask the confusion in your tone, but it's still plain to see.

"Follow me," she politely instructs, leading you down the hall towards what you assume is the laundry room.

She flips the light on and shuts the door behind you, walking into the closet to search for the spare set of close she keeps here.

When she emerges again, fluffy coat in hand, she begins stumbling over the words she was about about to say. Her eyes land on you, taking in the expanse of exposed skin now that you've stripped off the shirt you were wearing. She can't help but admire the sight; she subconsciously bites her lip, only being brought back to reality when you wave your hand in front of her face.

"Hello? Earth to Jennie?"

"What?" She eventually asks, shaking her head to rid herself of the thoughts swarming in it. She's always had a sort of thing for you, but she never imagined you could look that good. It should be a crime.

"I asked if you have a bathroom around here, so I can, ya know... wash up a bit. Whatever you had to drink is pretty sticky." You chuckle, moving your arm to show her how far it's spread.

"This room over here," she says, approaching a door on the wall opposite you, "is actually a bathroom. Convenient, right?" She asks, flipping the light on for you.

"Absolutely," you perk up, glad to know that you won't have to strut down the hall in your sports bra to get to a bathroom.

She steps to the side and pushes the door open for you, nearly melting when you give her a little wave and shut it behind yourself. She's got it bad.

She takes your shirt and throws it in the washer before setting the knobs correctly, knowing the best combos by heart. She and her brother are close, so it's not uncommon for her to come by and help him with chores when he gets swamped.

A few minutes later you come out of the bathroom clean and dry, nervously fidgeting with your hands as she turns to look at you again. Having the Jennie Kim looking at you in such a way and having her so close is a bit overwhelming, and you're not exactly sure how to deal with it.

"Here," she says, reaching around you to slide her jacket onto your arms. Her face hovers dangerously close to yours as she does, making you hold your breath in anticipation. She pulls the jacket closed, adjusting it so that it lays right, and you look into her eyes.

"Thanks, Jen."

Her heart speeds up at the nickname, though she tries not to show it.

"No problem, sweet thing." She flirts, taking you aback.

Just as you go to say something more, the door blasts open and a couple of her friends pop in. "There you are Jennie! What are you-- oh," they say, watching as the two of you spring apart.

When they realize who you are, they laugh among themselves. "What're you doing in here with her?" They ask, looking you up and down before ultimately appearing unimpressed. Jennie glances at you again, and you can see her going through some sort of inner turmoil.

"Thank God you guys showed up; she won't quit talking. I was just about to leave." She laughs, regaining the bitchy aura that she's known for. You set your jaw and nod, remembering why you choose to stay away from people like them.

"Wow, Jennie. You really had me fooled," you bite back, a bit shocked, but not surprised. You keep your eyes on hers as you take her jacket off and let it drop to the floor in front of her, grabbing a spare towel from the hamper on your way out the door. Her friends scoff at you, wondering what such a nobody like you thinks they're doing treating Jennie like that. You brush past them and send her one last look, conveying all the emotions you feel with a mere glance.

She's disappointed in herself, and she hangs her head as the girls scoop the designer material up and hand it to her.

----

45 Minutes Later

Just 15 more minutes, Y/N; totally doable. You reason with yourself. Jennie left the laundry room soon after you, leaving it vacant for you to put your shirt in the dryer and retrieve it when it was done. Now, clad in the warm material, you sit outside by the fire. Stars are shining brightly in the night sky, illuminating it so beautifully that your mind is taken off of what happened. They twinkle for you, and the sight puts you at ease.

What has that pleasant feeling dissipating in a second, however, is the sound of Jennie's voice as she exits the patio door.

She's talking to her friends about some boy that's in love with her, as the whole school seems to be, and you roll your eyes. With the moment officially ruined, you decide to head back into the house and spend the rest of your sentence there.

Once you stand up from your seat and turn around to take your leave, her friends notice you. "Jesus, you're really obsessed, aren't you? Are you following her or something?" One of them, a snarky blonde from earlier, asks.

You laugh at that. "Hardly," you glance at Jennie, though she avoids eye contact. "I'm sure you'd like that, though. Give you something to talk about other than your split ends." She reels back at your boldness, prepared to start a fight.

"You bitc--"

"Stop," Jennie finally steps in, cutting the girl off. She moves between the two of you, putting a hand on your chest and looking into your eyes.

"Jennie, I don't know what her problem is," the blonde squeaks out, trying to defend her actions.

"The problem doesn't lie with her," she tells her, leaving her puzzled. Jennie continues, "I lied earlier; I'm the one who invited her to the laundry room because I spilled my drink on her." You narrow your eyes at her following her statement, wondering where she's going with this.

"We probably would've kissed, too, if you hadn't walked in."

Your heart speeds up a little at that, but you're still hurt by what she did earlier. Having her be one way with you in private and another in public is never a good sign.

"I'm done with you guys. You turn me into something I'm not," she looks between the small following that's accrued, letting them know how she's been feeling for the past bit. The majority of them are stuck up and entitled, and seeing the hurt in your eyes put things into perspective for her. She likes you, and she wants to be better because of that.

"I don't understand, Jennie," one of them asks, sounding like she's on the brink of tears. Are these people really that invested? You know the hierarchy of popularity is confusing, but they make it seem like she's breaking up with them.

"We're not friends anymore. Not until you get your heads out of your asses and start being nicer."

The crowd clearly doesn't know how to react at her sudden change in attitude, but they mutter out various responses before some of them break away.

You look down at her and glance to the house, wordlessly telling her to follow you so that you can have a moment alone to talk. You lead her over to the patio and stand against the wall.

"I'm sorry," she says, sounding relieved to finally get the words out. Her previous actions have been weighing heavily on her, and she's been doing some introspection. It's not entirely all of a sudden, though; she's been questioning why she still hangs out with them for a while now. This encounter just confirmed her desire to leave them.

"I shouldn't have lied like that. I know it hurt you." She looks away, feeling disappointed again.

"Yeah, it definitely wasn't fun to have my crush talk about me like that." You nod, shoving your hands into your pockets.

"Crush?" Her head raises up, doing a terrible job of concealing the hopefulness she feels blossoming.

"Crush." You lightly smile at the way she blushes at your simple confirmation. She's too adorable for her own good; it's really no wonder than she has everyone on their knees for her.

"Thank you for apologizing," you say after a moment, nudging her shoulder gently. "It's more than your posse usually gives, so I appreciate it. You'd better mean it, though." You cock your head at her expectantly, a hint of warning in your tone.

"You have my word," she smiles, determined to make sure the opportunity you're giving her doesn't go to waste.

The Fallout

In the following weeks, she cut ties with more and more toxic people, causing a bit more drama to stir up, but she didn't care. You were by her side through all of it, as were your friends, and she saw what true community looks like. She had so many people at her beck and call back then, but none of them cared as much as your close knit group. They were in it because of her status, not because of her.

Walking her to class

Both of you sticking up for each other if people try to start stuff

Helping her correct her bad habits if she starts to get judgemental with someone or slips back into her old ways

Being patient with her

Her spoiling you randomly to show how thankful she is for you

"Miss L/N, we have a Candy Gram for you. Sent by Jennie Kim." A staff member says upon entering the classroom, walking the package over to you. You grin widely as you open the note attached to it.

"Come see me after class, Y/N/N. I have something for you."

You were excited for the rest of class

You rode your bike back to her dorm, parking it outside before knocking on the door.

"Hey, Jendeukie. What do you have for--"

You're abruptly cut off by her lips pressing against yours as her hands pull you in, turning you to mush. You sink into her arms and kiss back, reveling in the feeling of finally having this moment with her. You've been waiting for it ever since the party.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," she softly admits, resting her forehead against yours. "I hope I didn't overstep." You can hear the nervousness in her voice, and you smile at how cute she is.

"Quite the opposite, actually. Come here," you pull her in again, lifting her up into your arms as you walk into her dorm. She squeals at the sudden move, but the sound is quickly muffled as you lean in to kiss her again.

#kim jisoo #jisoo kim #jisoo #jisoo x reader #kim jisoo x reader #jennie kim #jennie #jennie x reader #blackpink #blackpink fanfic #blackpink imagines #blackpink oneshots #blackpink headcanons #park chaeyoung #rosé #lisa manoban #blackpink scenarios #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #angst #fluff #college au #enemies to lovers #let-them-read-fics #kpop #blackpink x fem reader #jisoo turtle rabbit kim #jennie kim x reader

[inagetawaycarxo]

If requests are still open might i ask for headcanons on shield/elias/sheamus discovering his lady has back dimples? Thanks!

Discovering His Lady Has Back Dimples Hc w/ The Shield. Sheamus & Elias Samson

WARNINGS: Nothing to life-threatening, mentions of sexual content, fluff, errors I missed.

A/N: I’m sure tumblr will hide this from the search engine! Content underneath the cut!

Elias Samson;

Elias found out you had back dimples when he watched you change into a spare set of clothes.

“I never knew you had back dimples,” Elias spoke. Making you look at him with a shocked expression. Shirt halfway on.

“They are cute,” He spoke. Smiling at you. Making you feel flustered. You quickly put your shirt on.

Ever since then he won't stop gushing about them.

Telling you how cute they look.

Elias finds them cute.

His hand will go to them and trace them.

When he and you are cuddling, He will draw circles on them.

Sheamus;

Sheamus was in awe and a little surprised he didn’t realize before you had back dimples until now. Your shirt riding up a bit revealing your back dimples, as you brushed your teeth.

You noticed Sheamus gawking at you. You finished brushing your teeth, spitting the toothpaste out then washing your mouth out with water.  Rising your toothbrush before cleaning your tongue, then rinse your toothbrush off again. You turned the tap off as you put the toothbrush in the toothbrush holder.

You turned around. Giving him a sly smirk as he realized he got caught. You skipped over to him. jumping on the bed. Lying down beside him.

“Had a good look,” You teased, thinking he was staring at your ass. But that wasn’t the case. Resting your elbow on the bed as you rested the side of your face on the palm of your hand.

“I was looking at your back dimples,” He defended himself. Making you let out a chuckle as you pulled the covers back. Crawling into bed. Pulling the covers over you.

“Okay, whatever you say,” You spoke. Leaning over to him. Pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. You pulled away. Laying your head on the pillow.

“I was,” He spoke a little louder.

“Mmhmm, Goodnight,” You responded as you closed your eyes…

Sheamus finds them adorable.

Often telling you how cute they are as he traces them. Or touches them.

He often traces them or touches your back dimples without realizing he is touching them. Or maybe he does.

Especially during intercourse.

Dean Ambrose;

Dean discovered your back dimples during sex.

He flipped you onto your stomach still inside of you. That was when he discovered you had back dimples.

Dean was in awe when he saw them. His fingers touching your back dimples.

“You are so gorgeous,” He moaned out….

He often traces your back dimples. Whether he is hugging you or not.

Tracing your back dimples when he gets possessive over you when someone flirts with you. It calms him down.

Dean will also touch/trace your back dimples during sex. Especially when he is giving you oral.

And kiss your back dimples.

Roman Reigns;

Roman adores all of your body. So, when he finds out you have back dimples he adores them as well.

Course he discovered them when the both of you were naked, in the shower. Doing more than just showering.

Roman was behind you. Leaving searing hot kisses along your neck. One of his hands entangled in your hair, while the other one grabbed his shaft, aligning it up with your entrance. Entering you. Both of you moaning.

Roman pushed your head down, making you bend in front of him.

“You can move now,” You gasped out. Grinding your hips against his. Trying to create friction. But he wouldn’t budge.

Roman let go of your hair, his fingers lightly tracing your back dimple. Mouth a gap. As he starred at your back dimples. His other hand touching your other back dimple.

“What?” You gasped out, turning your head and looking over your shoulder. You saw him staring at your lower back.

“Why haven’t I noticed your back dimples before?” Roman gasped out. Still staring at them, his fingers gently caressed them.

You starred at him for a second, mouth a gap. Feeling slightly sexually frustrated and feeling your heart flutter. As much as it made you swoon, he was still inside of you and you needed a release.

“Are you going to fuck me or are you going to keep staring at my back dimples,” You huffed out. not that Roman heard.

“You are so beautiful, He whispered.

“You know you can stare at my back dimples while fucking me, guess I got to do the thrusting,” You spoke, but he still didn’t listen to you, too caught up in admiring your back dimples…

Ever since then, he always compliments your back dimples.

Tracing patterns on your back dimples ever so lightly.

He often uses it to his advantage when both of you have sex.

Kissing your back dimples ever so softly. As he fingers you.  

Or when he eats you out. Either pressing your back dimples or tracing them during sex. Depends.

Seth Rollins;

Seth was in shock and awe when he discovered you had back dimples.

He was watching your match on the monitor backstage. Commentating on your every move.

He stopped talking when he noticed indentations on your lower back.

“She has back dimples,” He cooed. He wondered why he never noticed it until now. Maybe he wasn’t looking hard enough or paying attention.

Seth was too lost in his thoughts about your back dimples to realize your match was over.

He didn’t realize that until you raced over to him. Wrapping your arms around his neck. Pressing your body flush against his.

“I won,” You cheered. Seth quickly pulled away from you turning you around.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his behavior. What the hell was he doing? Did you do something wrong? You thought to yourself.

“So, beautiful,” He cooed, as he traced your back dimples. Making you smirk, then bite your lip.

Oh, he finally saw your back dimples.

“Can I get a hug from you? or do you want to trace my back dimples some more?” You teased. Turning your head and looking at him over your shoulder.

“The second option,” He spoke, still tracing them as you chuckled…

Just like Roman he uses your back dimples as an advantage during sex, and oral sex.

Caressing your back dimples, tracing them.

Staring at them in awe at night as you lay on his chest, or if you have your back to him.

A/N: FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED!

#anon #asks #answered #wwe x reader #roman reigns x reader #sheamus xreader #seth rollins x reader #dean ambrose x reader #elias samson #wwe headcanon #wwe headcanons

[d-hasselhoff]

Because of You

Dean Winchester x reader

Y/n, a shifter, manages to finesse the Winchesters, and falls in the love with the elder of the brothers, who just happens to be the cause of her demise.

Tw: main character death, show level violence, betrayal, stabbing

“Dean, please. I know I lied to you, and I know I hurt you but please you, you have to listen to me. It was for the best! There are people after you, Dean, people that could really hurt you. They’re-“ she was cut off. Dean had stabbed her. He realized his fatal mistake as the blood dripped from her mouth and blocked her vocal chords.

Now, we’re a bit ahead of ourselves here. Let me take you back to ten years ago, when the Winchester brothers met Y/n Y/l/n.

“Hey, Dean, do we have any idea what this thing is?” Sam asked his older brother, Dean waiting to answer as he parked his ‘67 impala in the small parking spot in the dusty, cheap motel park he and his brother rented while they searched for their missing father.

“Well,” He sighed, pushing the car into park and turning to Sam. “Probably a shifter, though, I’ve been wrong in these sorts of situations.”

“Okay, any leads?”

“Yeah, there could be two. One of them, the main one, typically only shifts into a male, more dominate figure. The other possible one typically stays the same.”

“Huh. Siblings?”

“Could be. Though I’ve never heard of a family of shifters.”

“Hey, if we hadn’t grown up in the life, I don’t think I’d even know what a shifter was.”

“True. Maybe it is a family.” Dean shrugged, throwing his door open and pulling the bags out of the trunk.

Sam followed, closing the small door to the main office of the motel shut. God, he missed his dorm.

“Sam! The silver!” Dean shouted, nodding toward the silver bullet-loaded gun next to Sam on the ground.

He swung into action, picking it up, aiming to Dean and sending it flying.

Dean grabbed it out of the air, steadied himself, and fired, hitting the shifter in the chest, missing the girl held in his arm, and effectively knocking him down. Sam ran to them, passing the girl over to Dean and finishing the job.

“Well shit, Sammy. You did good on your first hunt without Dad.” Dean smiled, clapping the boy on the back.

“Thanks, Dean, but what about the vic?”

“Shit. I didn’t think about her.”

Y/n sat, quivering quietly in the corner. She put up the helpless victim act pretty good, if she said so herself. She kept her gaze to the ground as Dean approached, shying away from his touch.

“Hey, Sweetheart. I’m not here to hurt you, alright? My name’s Dean, this is my brother Sam. Can you tell us your name?” He gave her a charming smile, situating himself on the ground next to her.

“Y/n,” she answered quietly, slowly raising her head to get a quick look at her knights in shining armor.

“Hey there, Y/n. You got any family you can go back to?”

She shook her head. “All gone. Killed.”

Dean nodded, lightly placing his hand on her shoulder.

“Well, you wanna come back with little old Sammy and I? We don’t have much, but it’s at least better than the streets.” Dean offered, silencing the questioning look on his brothers face.

“A-are you sure?” Her lip quivered slightly.

“Of course. Can’t have a pretty little lady like yourself all alone.” She nodded, letting Dean help her up, supporting herself against him as her leg gave out.

Gradually, the two warmed up to each other. They seemed inseparable.

“Dean? I’m heading to the bar, you coming with?”

“Oh hell yeah. Need a wingman tonight?”

“For sure.” She laughed, pulling on the tight shirt. He stumbled into her room, stopping when he saw she was without pants.

“Shit, Y/n, close your door when you change.”

“Christ, Dean! I did, you came barreling into it!”

“I mean, now that I’m here?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“No!” She laughed, pushing him out the door and pulling her jeans on.

Dean sat across the bar from Y/n, watching as a guy flirted with her. He was surprisingly clean, considering the bar they were at, and he seemed genuine. She smiled graciously, her eyes bright. Dean watched with a grimace, throwing back the rest of his whiskey. He knew he didn’t have a chance with her, the other guys were so much better than he was. She deserved someone who could support her financially, someone who could give her the big house and three dogs she always wanted. And that wasn’t Dean.

Y/n smiled nervously as the man’s hand traveled higher and higher up her leg. He groped the top of her thigh and she tried to push his hand away. “Okay, I think that’s enough.”

“Oh come on, sweetheart, you know you want me.” He smirked, leaning into her.

“No, I really don’t. Please, leave me alone,” she responded, trying to get out of her chair, struggling against the weight of the man on her.

“Get off of me!” She yelled, pushing his shoulder, feeling dizzy all of a sudden.

Dean caught wind of the yelling and saw Y/n struggling, his ‘big brother’ sense kicking in. He rushed over, throwing the guy off of Y/n.

“Hey! She said no!” Dean yelled, throwing a punch at the man.

The guy toppled over, holding his nose. Y/n grabbed Dean by the arm and pulled him out of the bar by the time the commotion had really started.

Once he had cooled down he turned to her, “Are you alright?”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into her embrace. He responded by wrapping his tighter around her, laying his head in the crook of her neck. He lived for hugs like these. Growing up the way he did, he was never really shown this kind of affection. Now, he savored it as much as he could.

Then, it turned a little more than friendly.

Dean sighed into the kiss as Y/n pulled lightly on the tufts of hair at the bottom of his head. He would never get enough of this. She smiled as he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. “I love you,” he whispered, eyes meeting hers to show he really meant it.

“I love you too, Winchester,” she giggled lightly and pressed her lips to his again.

And they had their fights;

“I just don’t understand why you won’t trust me!” Y/n yelled, throwing her hands in the air in disbelief at the bullshit that was coming out of Dean’s mouth.

“I do! I do trust you! It’s just that I can’t lose you. I’m horrified of losing you, Y/n. You’re the one good thing that’s happened to me since dad died. What happens if you get hurt on a hunt and it’s my fault? I’ll never be able to let that go, baby. I trust you with my soul, really, but I can’t afford to lose you.” Dean sighed, pushing his head down like a dog in trouble.

That was always how he got whenever he had to share his feelings. Ashamed, guilty, embarrassed. It made Y/n want to slap John Winchester into a new dimension. No one should feel that way expressing their feelings, especially about the love of their life.

“Dean, look at me,” she commanded, tilting his head up by the chin. “You don’t lose me. I’m stuck with it for a while.” She gave him a reassuring smile, pulling him up to his feet before smashing her lips onto his.

And they would get hurt;

“Shit, Y/n,” Dean mumbled, chopping the head of a vampire off clean before returning back to Y/n who had been hit pretty bad.

“‘S okay, Dean. ’M alright.” She slurred, leaning her head against the wall as she slid to the floor.

“No, Y/n, you’re not. You’re hurt, honey.” Dean murmured, picking her up effortlessly carrying her out to the impala, leaving Sam to clean up the mess.

Her eyes fluttered as she fell in and out of consciousness, the sounds around her echoing in her head. “Dean?” She mustered, opening her eyes just enough to see the worried look in his face.

“Hi, baby. You got knocked pretty hard there. Head hurt?”

“Yeah. A lot.” She murmured, tilting her head to block the light from the setting sun through the car windows.

“I’m sorry. We’re almost home, right Sam?”

Sam nodded from the driver’s seat, checking a sign to see exactly where they were. “Just outside of Lebanon.”

Dean smiled as Y/n cuddled herself up into his arms, gently kissing her forehead.

And Y/n had told Sam her secret.

She never planned to reveal it, but it slipped out, she didn’t know how, but someway Sam was always able to get anything from her.

It had started when the two of them were researching in the library while Dean went out and did detective work on a case in their home town. The case was another possible shifter, and the idea sparked the conversation of how she ended up in the position she did when Sam and Dean found her. Without thinking, she told Sam the whole story.

“I’m a shifter too. But I never wanted to hurt people. So I never shifted. My boyfriend at the time got really angry that I wouldn’t go on killing sprees with him as some weird version of Bonnie and Clyde, so one day he just snapped. I had stayed behind while he “ran some errands” as he liked to call it, and tried to catch up on my schoolwork. Then when he got back he was pissed. I wasn’t sure why, but apparently one of the Vic’s had gotten away, so he took it out on me. He grabbed me, threw me in the car, and told me ‘ I’m going to make you want to kill.’”

Sam stayed quiet, letting the information sink in. “So, you’re a shifter, but you haven’t shifted?”

“No. Never wanted to, never needed to. It felt useless.”

Sam nodded, going back to his reading. He knew he could never tell Dean. He trusted her, but Dean could be irrational, Sam had no idea what his reaction would be.

And Dean found out.

“Dammit. Y/n! You’ve been lying to us for the past ten years?” Dean yelled, backing away from her.

“No! Only- only you. I told Sam a few months ago.”

“Oh yeah that’s just great. You’ll tell my little brother that you’re a supernatural creature, but not your boyfriend.”

“Dean, please. I know I lied to you, and I know I hurt you but please you, you have to listen to me. It was for the best! There are people after you, Dean, people that could really hurt you. They’re-“ she was cut off. Dean had stabbed her. He realized his fatal mistake as the blood dripped from her mouth and blocked her vocal chords.

She coughed, gripping her abdomen as the sliver blade lodged itself further into her back. “Oh shit, Y/n,” Dean rushed, trying to fix his impulse mistake. “Cas! I need you dammit!”

Castiel appeared, taking in the scene in front of him. He bit his cheek, holding back the venom he wanted to spit at Dean. He had never been so mad in his entire existence. Of course he had known what Y/n was, it was obvious to him. But what he also knew, was she had only ever helped people. Every case that seemed easy to them, had already been mainly solved by Y/n and her ability to shape-shift. Every “easy” lead she found, was due to her ability. All she ever did was help. And now, because she’s different, she’s dead. And it’s all because of Dean.

“Cas! There’s gotta be something you can do, man! Fix her!” Dean shouted at the angel, holding her tightly to his chest.

“Dammit, Dean! Why the hell would you do that!”

“She’s a shapeshifter, Cas! Why wouldn’t she tell me!” Dean shouted again, watching as Cas pulled her away from his chest.

“Because we all knew you would react like this! Now, because of you, she’s dead! And I can’t save her.”

Dean’s expression sank. “No, of course you can save her. She’s- you’re- you’re an angel, Cas, you can save her! You pulled me from hell, for Christs sake! You can save her too!”

Cas shook his head. “As much as I’d like to, I can’t.”

Dean slammed his fist on the ground, standing up before brushing shoulders with the angel as he stomped away.

#dean #jensen ackles #cas #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean imagine #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #supernatural imagine #spn fanfic #spn #sam #sam winchester #Dean Winchester

[x-ladyathena-x]

Free

Dean Winchester x Reader

Multi-POV (mostly reader POV with some Dean POV mixed in for clarity and understanding of the situation)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Fluffy Smut, Smutty Smut, idiots in love

Word count: 4k - Buckle in, it’s a long one! (that’s what she said?)

Summary: An evening at the bunker planning your next hunt takes a romantic & steamy turn as you and Dean confess your feelings for each other.

You’d just finished a hunt and made it back to the bunker. Tired and exhausted, you see Dean at his computer, probably researching the next job.

“Welcome back, Sunshine!” he yells across the massive room, eyes never leaving his computer screen.

You roll your eyes at the pet name, but laugh at the same time. “Smartass.” You mumble under your breath at him.

“Aww, you’re the sweetest, y/n” Dean smirks at you with his goofy fake cheesy grin.

After a little playful banter back and forth, you unload your gear and slump down into a chair at the table that Dean is sitting at with his laptop.

“whew! I’m beat.” You say, rubbing your eyes.

Dean Drains the last bit of the beer he’d been sipping on and gets up for another. He holds up his empty bottle, “want one?”

“yeah, grab me one too.” You say, thinking about the ice-cold deliciousness awaiting you.

Dean walked back to where you were seated. You’d pulled out your laptop by this point and had started running a map spread.

He walked up, opened your beer for you and presented it to you like a waiter in a fancy restaurant would present a bottle of Champaign. “Your beverage, ma’am.” Dean says with a slight bow.

You laugh and take the beer. While you throw your head back, savoring that first sip, you don’t notice Dean watching you with a little smile on his face from having made you laugh.

You set your beer down. “Ok, come look at this.” You say. You’ve got the map pulled up on your screen.

Dean comes up behind you. He places one arm on the back of your chair, the other balancing his weight on the table. You’re acutely aware of how close he is to you. Your body stills. The world around you slows, moving in slow motion. You can feel him hovering right over your shoulder and it feels like an electric charge coursing through your skin.

You swallow. “Right here.” You say, pointing to the screen. “we’ve got intel on vamp nests; here, here, there, and way over here. I think we should begin with this one.” You say pointing to the blue dot. “But I’m not sure when we should hit the others.”

Dean leans forward. He moves his hand from the back of the chair to your shoulder. His fingers graze the skin of your exposed neck. He points to the screen with the other hand. “Well green would definitely make sense to hit after blue. But, as for red and yellow? Shouldn’t make much of a difference which of those we hit after that.” His hand was still on your shoulder and he gave it a quick squeeze. “See? Easy as pie!”

He stopped, hesitating, and looked down at where his hand was. His eyes suddenly became hungry.

Dean slowly began trailing his fingers along the exposed skin on your neck. You leaned into his touch, his hands – his hands! You could feel the strength and power in them at their touch. Oh, that rough touch. It set every molecule in your body humming. When you let out a small groan of pleasure, you could have sworn you felt deans body waver for a moment.

Gently, he moves a wisp of hair that had fallen down the nape of your neck. Taking his time, he allowed his fingers to brush through your hair, making goosebumps appear on your skin.

You shudder and bring in a short gasp of breath at the light, deliberate touch. Gah… this man could bring you to your knees with one touch. Just melt you into a puddle.

Umm, wake up, y/n! you think to yourself. You’re a badass hunter. Humans and creature alike literally fear your name! And here you are melting at the touch of (of all people) Dean effin Winchester… Ugh, get it together, y/n!

You’d never told anyone but you actually really liked Dean. A lot. He’d been on your mind more than usual lately. Maybe it was all the time you two had been spending together? He was fun and funny. And Charming… Oh yea, charming. So charming he just loved charming his way into the pants of every girl he met. You felt your teeth clench at the thought.

Am I jealous? Is this jealousy? You think to yourself. Jealous… jealous of what? Nothing. Something? You didn’t know why you felt that way. Dean wasn’t yours, after all. You knew he only saw you as a friend. Someone to joke around with, hang out with on your days off. He’s made moves on other girls. If he were interested in you, he’d have tried to make a move already. But he hadn’t. Just a little light hearted flirting, but you knew that was his personality. So that’s that. But- but, this?

What was this? What was happening right now?

Dean leaned down and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, resting his forehead against your hair. A deep sigh and the soft flutter of eyelashes tells you that he closed his eyes as he breathes in your scent.

Was this it? Was he making his move? The feel of his face nuzzled in your neck lit a fire burning in your belly. Him. You wanted him. Needed him. And his body language suggested that he wanted you just as bad.

“Dean...” you say breathlessly.

“y/n, I- “

The sound of your name brings you back to your senses somehow.

Making his move. You think to yourself. On you? Who does he think you are?! Some tramp from the bar? How can this man both infuriate and arouse you all at the same time?! This was starting to feel like an emotional roller coaster that you wanted to get off of.

You clear your throat and decide to lay down the law. You needed to let him know that playing around wasn’t your thing. And, of all people, he should know that about you, ugh.

“I’m not one of your conquests. Another one-nighter. So, if that’s what you’re after, you can pump the breaks before you start any of your trusty old sweet talk like honey dripping from your lips.” Mmm… his lips… Snap back to earth, y/n!

He’s smooth, you give him that. And as bad as you’d love to throw him down right here and fuck his brains out, you gather your senses and realize that your self-respect and dignity are more important. But, oh… those lips. The high road sucks.

You take a deep breath, gather yourself, and continue, “I, unlike your long list of hit-em-and-quit-em’s, am a lot of hard work. I require dedication and respect.” You spat the last word out a little more icily than you meant to, but you were seething at the thought of his hands being on anyone else.

Did he just screw some rando less that twelve hours ago? You don’t know. Probably. You clench your fist at the thought.

Dean moves suddenly. Swiftly. Like the predator you know him to be out in the field while hunting. Taking you by surprise, he kneels beside you, grabbing both your hands, turning you sideways in the chair to face him. He looks up at you with deep sadness in his eyes.

“Y/n, I- I haven’t. N-not once. Not since I- I realized…”

-----

Dean couldn’t stand it anymore; he couldn’t bear to hear the heartbreak in y/n’s voice. And he did hear it. Even though she tried to cover it; lacing every word with venom. He could still hear it. And it broke him inside.

What makes him good enough to deserve someone like y/n? She was way better off without a messy relationship with him. A relationship that would inevitably end in heartbreak. Heartbreak for one of them. Because in this life, the life of a hunter, having your heart ripped to shreds by the loss of a loved one was part of the reality. He was so scared to allow himself something good.

Good? Why do I deserve good? He thought. Maybe death and loss are part of everyone’s reality. Maybe, just maybe he was making the pain worse by fighting this… Maybe she, like him, was also scared. Would she even feel the same if he told her? What would he say? That he’d been in love with her for, well, he wasn’t sure when it happened. They’d always playfully flirted with each other. Sometimes she stole his beer, took a few sips, and handed it back. He liked the idea of putting his lips where hers had been. Dean imagined about how she would taste. He- he needed to tell her. Tell her everything.

Why was he making himself so miserable? This had to end, he was being stupid. It was his own fault for not confessing sooner. Dean gathered his courage. In one fluid motion, taking y/n by surprise, he knelt beside her, took her hands in his, and turned her body to face him.

Dean looked up at y/n. There it was. A mixture of torment, sadness, and longing. All weakly camouflaged by an icy look in her eyes.

“Y/n, I-“ Dean froze. I, what? Come on, spit it out, man! You’ve got this. “I haven’t.” Haven’t what?! Words. What are words? “N- not once. Not since I- I realized…” shit. Dean froze again as y/n’s breath quickened. Her eyes wide, listening to him speak. Her nails unknowingly digging into his palms in nervous anticipation of what he was trying to say. Why couldn’t he just spit it out?!

-----

You feel your pulse racing. You’re hanging on to every word pouring from those perfect lips. Every. Word. As your gaze dances across painfully beautiful green eyes, your expression softens.

“Not since I realized I love you.” Dean finishes in a low, rough voice.

Your breath catches in your throat. Is this real? Are you breathing? Did Dean just say what you think you heard him say?

“Y/n, I love you. And I have for a long time now.”

You release a big breath that you didn’t even know you were holding. Gently you lift his rough hands up to your mouth, brushing your lips across his calloused knuckles.

Unable to speak, you keep your hands on his as he reaches up to your cheek to wipe away a single tear. Am I crying?! You think to yourself. Apparently. Yes. The rush of emotion and relief that you’re feeling, knowing that he feels the same way that you feel keeps you tongue tied.

Your reaction to his words was the catalyst Dean needed to keep going. He continued, “I love you. I haven’t been with anyone for a while now. Not since I realized that you were right in front of me the whole time. Exactly what I’ve been searching for.” Dean was on both knees by this point.

As if Dean were searching for the next words he wanted to say, his head dropped down against his hands (which were still holding yours in your lap) and he drew a shuddering breath.

You could feel his soft hair against your leg. Why does he have to be so damn sexy?! As he composes himself, you reach out and run your fingers through his hair. His head jolts up at your touch. You smile at him, “I love you too, Dean. I just never knew you felt the same. Why are you only telling me now? Why hide it for so long?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you. Or lose you.” He whispered as he looked up at you through his lashes.

“Hurt me? Uh, didn’t ya think this whole ‘apparent unrequited love’ thing was killing me too?” you say sarcastically with a smirk. But in truth, that wasn’t fair to Dean. Because he didn’t know how you felt either. You’d never told him. Sure, you always flirted with each other and you found him insanely attractive and hot. Especially when he got protective over you during a hunt, or some creep at the bar. How many nights did the two of you stay up laughing at each other’s stupid jokes and throwing back a few beers? You’d always enjoyed each other’s company.

You repeat yourself, but softer this time, with longing in your voice. “Why now, Dean? Please. Tell me.”

“Because I was tired of denying myself the one good thing that ever came into my life.” He said heatedly. “Because I can’t think when I’m around you. You drive me absolutely fucking crazy, y/n. I can’t sleep without thinking of you. I can’t eat, hell, I can’t even put a beer to my lips without wishing it was you that I had at my lips. I want. No. I need you in my life. By my side. I need to - taste you. Breathe you. Y/n, I know I’m not the only one that feels this way. I see it in your eyes, I see the way you look at me. And I’m scared shitless of how deep these feelings go. This-“ Dean gestured between the two of you, “Is something that I never even knew it was possible to feel.

Without skipping a beat, Dean put his hand behind your head and pulled you into his lips. It was a tender kiss. Gentle, soft. You could feel the fire growing inside you. He felt so good. Your hands found the stubble on either cheek as you kissed him back. His tongue slipped inside your mouth and found yours.

The kiss became more forceful, and full of need. You didn’t want it to stop. It couldn’t stop. If it did stop, that may be the end of the world as you know it.

Dean stood, pulling you up with him as he wrapped both arms tight around your waist. He began running his hands over every surface of your body he could reach. He pulled you flush with his body, never breaking apart your lips. You could feel the heat radiating off him. You ran your hands down his powerfully muscular back. This. This man. Him. Dean. Dean is what you want.

Dean broke the kiss apart. “I love you, y/n. I love you so damn much it hurts.” He said, his voice breaking.

“I love you too, Dean.” You say, smiling up at his face, tangling your fingers in his hair.

With a small grunt, Dean lifts you up by your ass and you instinctually wrap your legs around his hips. You feel a growing bulge in his jeans. You pull his face back in to yours. You can’t think straight, you want him so bad, you can taste it. Your core is aching with need. The need for him growing more intense. Only he can quench this fire burning you up.

Dean carries you clumsily down the hall to your room. Your arms still entwined around each other, holding each other together, holding the universe together.

Once inside Dean puts you down and you both stand there, staring at each other, breathing heavily. You both suddenly fly towards each other. Grabbing and pulling clothes, pulling each other’s lips down hard on your own. You unbutton Deans blue jeans and he unclasps your bra. Your t shirt and shorts long forgotten somewhere on the floor.

The feeding frenzy of ripping each other’s clothes off slows to a savory pace as you tug and pull off Deans pants, leaving nothing to hold down the massive tent in Dean’s boxers.

He pulls the straps of your bra from your shoulders, slowly. When the cold air hits your nipples, they perk instantly Dean lets out a sharp hiss. “Oh, y/n.” He teases the soft flesh. First with his thumb, then with his mouth. As you feel his tongue against your skin, you let out a sigh of pleasure. His eyes dart up to your face. He lifts his head and softly kisses you on the mouth. “I would love nothing more than to throw you onto this bed and fuck you senseless right now.” Dean said with a growl, but then his expression softened. “But if this is too much, we can stop. You’re in charge… as per usual.” Dean laughs at his own joke and you playfully smack him on the arm, grinning.

“Hey now!” you say laughing, “I’m not always in charge when we do hunts.”

Dean rolls his eyes and says sarcastically, “Yea, ok. Sure…”

You lean in and plant a kiss on his neck, “Well, I guess – since – I’m the one – in charge,” you say playfully between kisses. Trailing them down his chest and belly, stopping at his boxers. His erection obvious. “Then, I’ll accept nothing less than-“, you pull his boxers down revealing his full length. You flash your eyes up to his. He’s hungrily watching you, “-being fucked senseless.” You say as you take him into your mouth.

-----

She was so fucking beautiful. Perfect. The most perfect thing he’d ever seen. As y/n started bringing her kisses down his torso, Dean could feel his erection stiffen even harder. When she stopped to pull down his boxers, he could feel his shaft weeping with anticipation.

He was so worried that he had crossed a line earlier. It totally took him by surprise that y/n wanted him just as badly as he wanted her.

“Well, I guess, since I’m the one in charge, I’ll accept nothing less than being fucked senseless.” Y/n said as she looked up at him with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. Damn! She was so hot. Dean had never been this riled up by anyone before. Oh, if that’s what you want, Baby, then that’s what I’m gonna-

Dean wasn’t able to finish his thought stream. Y/n had taken his whole length into her mouth. “Oh FUCK!” Dean screamed out, grabbing y/n by the hair. He slowly began to guide her head at the pace he wanted. Her tongue, her mouth, her! She was about to make him come already. Dean pulled himself out of her mouth. “Bed. Now.” He commanded with a sly smile.

Y/n laughed, “whatever you say, Baby.” As she climbed onto the bed, she did a dramatically slow striptease style crawl that made Dean’s erection throb.

Dean crawled up her body, kissing every inch of her he could reach. Y/n made a little pleasurable whine as dean kissed her thighs while he pulled down her lacy black thong. Her center was absolutely dripping wet. Dean wanted to live between those perfect thighs. Spend years there, never come back to reality. Was time even moving at all? What day is it? What year is it? He didn’t care. None of those things mattered. None of it mattered because he had his y/n. His. Mine.

The only thing that existed was the two of them.

Dean dove his face between y/n’s thighs to her soft center. She tasted like Spring sunshine. Dean took his time, savoring every shudder that ran through her perfect body. Every gasp, scream, and moan that came out of her perfect mouth. She was getting close to coming.

-----

Your whole body is on the brink. Every move dean makes brings you closer to the edge. You need this release and you need Dean to give it to you. You feel yourself climbing, building, then suddenly – the earth shatters around you. You scream “Dean! Oh, DEAN!”

Dean keeps going while you ride out the high, he slowly brings you back down. You sigh, “Dean that- that was- I-“ you have no words. He seems to understand what you’re trying to say because he smiles.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Your heart and core flutter at his words.

He climbs between your thighs, positioning himself at your entrance. You place your hands on his hips and start to guide him in. With one smooth powerful thrust, he slides his whole length inside you, filling you up, stretching you in the most delicious way. You both gasp. He smiles and kisses your forehead.

His pumps start slow at first, then become more deliberate, more powerful. You love the protectively dominate power he radiates as he’s on top of you. Dean is a MAN. And he feels good. He feels so damn good. You start to feel yourself building again to what you knew would be another earth-shattering orgasm.

Dean found his rhythm and savored every movement, every stroke. He could stay here for ages.

As you feel yourself building, your need for him grows stronger. Dean... He was yours. And you were greedy for more of him. As his rhythm quickened, you dug your nails into his ass pulling his thrusting hips toward you with more force at each thrust. He catches the hint.

Without ever breaking the two of you apart, he flips you over onto all fours and doesn’t hold back. His urgency makes you cry out in pleasure. “Baby, yes! That’s it!”

“You want more? You want me to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before?”

“YES!” you scream, reaching around and slapping his thigh. That does it. He unleashes himself. You hear him roar with pleasure, holding onto you so tightly, pulling you against him so fast and hard. The sound of flesh slapping echoed around the room mixed with both your cries of pleasure.

“Baby, I’m about to come!” you pant.

“Come on. Come for me Baby.” Dean says breathlessly. “I want to know that I’m the one to make you come.”

-----

Dean was talking out of his mind in the throes of ecstasy. The thought of y/n coming… of him coming inside her, was throwing him over the edge. Just as he felt himself going over, he felt y/n tighten around him.

-----

Just as you feel Dean twitching inside you, you feel yourself tighten around him. The sheer power of your shared climax hit you both like a freight train.

When you felt him pull out, you felt empty with his warmth gone. Dean lays back on the pillows and pulls you into his arms. You settle yourself in the warmth and comfort of his body. Dean absent mindedly plays with your hair as you lay your head on his chest and you both breathe heavily while you float back down to reality.

“Dean?” you say softly.

“Mmm?”

“That was amazing. Absolutely amazing.”

Dean chuckles and kisses the top of your head. “Glad I could be of service.”

He’s such a smartass, you think to yourself laughing. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more honest with you either.” You say, picking up your conversation from earlier. “I know I’m partly to blame for this dance we’ve been doing around each other for - who knows how long.”

“No, you were right. I should have just nutted up and told you how I felt. It just crushes me to think that I was causing you pain because you thought I was seeing other people.”

You absent mindedly draw circles on his chest with your finger. “I don’t know, I suppose we’re both to blame. I mean, look at this mind-blowing sex we could have been having all this time.”

This coaxes a real laugh out of Dean, and you feel his chest moving up and down from the laughter. But then he stops and you see a seriousness wash over his face. The same pain you saw in his eyes earlier, but maybe – perhaps you are imaging it – less pain, more - hope?

“I meant everything I said earlier.” Dean says in a husky, deep voice. “I am scared shitless to lose you, or to know that I’d be the source of your pain if you ever lost me. I mean, hell we’re hunters, we know how this ends eventually.” Still holding you tight, Dean continues, “I guess, If I’ve got one life to live, even if it’s a short one, I want you by my side. Always. I want you. All of you. The sassy you. The smartass you. The bossy you. The…” he paused to run his thumb across your lips, “The incredibly sexy you that I can’t keep my hands off of.” Dean smiles “I didn’t know that happiness like this, or these – feelings - were even possible to feel. And that’s just it. You made me feel. You pulled me out of a darkness that I didn’t even know I was in. You made me – free.”

#dean winchester #supernatural #SPN #spnfandom #dean winchester SPN #smut #angst #hunters #idiots in love #fluff #sad dean #sexy dean #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #y/n #dean winchester x reader

[darthslaydr]

Teach me how to love you

Summary- Dean is possessive and jealous. A guy's hands-on y'n makes him lose his mind. He gets physical but doesn't know how to show his affection, he asks her to teach him how to love her.

Pairing- Dean Winchester x Reader

Characters- Dean, Sam, Y'N, Iris

Word count- 1.7k

Warning- SMUT, possessive, jealous, physical, low-key toxic Dean, training.

Suggestions are open loves!

MASTERLIST

The Winchester ritual consists of going to the bar to wash off any sorrow, it was almost like therapy. The bar was almost jammed pack, you always had a good time because you practically grew up in bars. You always wore the same jeans and flannel going to the hunts, but it is always so hot in the bars, everyone’s bodies just sticking together, it was really hard to be wearing something like jeans, so you always carried shorts and wore a tank top underneath the flannel.

Y/N’s POV

I was riding the backseat of the Impala, truth was I am bullied by the boys, so they do not let me ride shotgun. Sam was passed out in the front and Dean had his eyes on the road. We all stayed in silence till Dean played “Cherry Pie”. That damn song always did something to me. Gave me every inch of confidence and god complex

“ We are almost there,” Dean said, looking at you in the rearview mirror.

I just nodded and looked away. I could still feel his eyes on me. I slowly started unbuttoning my flannel, that damn song. I took of the flannel, showing my tank top, which had Harley Davidson on it. I started unbuttoning my pants and my eyes met Dean’s in the rearview mirror. He shied away and moved his eyes on the road. I changed into short shorts and during the whole changing process his eyes kept flickering off and on from me.

We entered in front of the pub. I knew I was good-looking, I shut down every insecurity, I hate being vulnerable. We walked into the club, Sam went to look for a table and Dean and I went to the bar, finally. You ordered the same as Dean, strong drinks as always. Dean went to some chick, as always, and this time Sam also got one, finally. I was left alone at the bar and a certain handsome guy seated himself beside me. He had ocean blue eyes and the sweetest way of talk. God, he is handsome. I started feeling incredibly hot when his hands touched my thigh, slowly caressing it. That moment was interrupted by Sam.

“Hey, Y/N, sorry for disturbing you but Iris and I are going back to the motel, and we are taking the car. If you want to come now, then you can but the motel is like 10 mins away from here.” He had a girl in his arm and he was visibly drunk. I chuckled and told him I can walk. He smiled and walked away.

The handsome sitting in front of you, Dave, had his hand fixed on the upper part of my thigh.

“Maybe we can get out of here too?” He whispered in my ear

I looked around to find Dean, he was too drunk to walk alone. I could not leave him.

“How about we take this behind the Pub?” I asked

Of course, he said yes.

I chugged the sixth drink and was pretty drunk. He grabbed my hand and helped me stand. He then put his hand on my lower back and soon grabbed my ass. I looked behind and saw Dean looking at me while a girl kissed his neck. I mouthed that I will be back and he did nothing. I ignored it and walked out with Dave, he pushed me against the wall and started kissing my neck, grabbed my hand above my head and started unzipped my shorts. People were still going in and out of the bar, and publically having sex was not exactly my cup of tea.

“No not yet,” I said

He just nodded and continued kissing. It soon just became a hot makeout sesh. With different turns, I was pinned against the wall and then he was. While hovering over him, a strong pair of arms pulled me back and held me against someone’s chest.

“Beat it.” A low growl said behind me

I turned around to find a similar face, Dean. He was pissed and I could smell the alcohol on him. Dave did not even ask twice and just ran away. I pushed Dean off and started walking away from him towards the motel.

“Y/N wait,” Dean said while running behind me.

“I am too drunk for this hold on.” He said behind me.

“Dean, I know you are. That is why” I took in a deep breath. “We will talk tomorrow.”

The walk back was quiet and I could feel he was sorry. We soon reached the motel and we could hear Sam in the room.

“You can wait in my room,” I asked Dean, but he started walking away before I could say anything else.

“I am just going to go to the convenient store, it is 2 mins away.” He said and moved away.

I went into my room and changed my clothes and made coffee, two cups of coffee because Dean did not know that the convenience store was closed. I knew he would be back.

I hear a faint knock on the door. I looked through the peephole and it was as expected, Dean.

As soon as I opened the door, he kissed me. It was wanting, passionate and almost like the world was coming to an end. He pushed me against the door and shut the door with the help of my body. He closed to my neck and I didn’t impose. He raised me and my legs crossed across his waist, he tore my tank top in half and started making his way down to my breasts, my hands getting tangled in his hair. I removed the shreds of the clothes hanging from my shoulders. He carried me and laid me on my bed. He took off his shirt and I removed my shorts. He got ahold of my panty and removed it in a second and tied my hands to the bed rest with my panty and he worked on removing my bra. He moved down tracing every inch of my body till he reached my thighs and started teasing all the sweet spots. His hands soon dug into my thigh and his mouth was exactly where it needed to be. I screamed out loud, he feels so different, feels so pure. God. My back ached and my arms screamed to be let free and roamed freely in his hair. He soon came in front of my face and without any indication, he put himself, the full length, in me. He grabbed my throat and I begged for him even more. He came next to my ear and said, “You are mine, and you better say it.” Those words could not be comprehended, but with every thrust, I got closer and with the last thrust remaining for me to come, he pulled away and looked at me, “You better say it.”

As he said it his hickey’s from that night glaring through. I raised my head up as far as I could and whispered, “ You say it first.” In that second he thrust so far deep, that I saw stars. I came, he came and maybe that was us agreeing to each other? He moved out of me and wore his pants and started moving out of the room.

“Hey, untie me,” I screamed at him.

He moved back towards me and said that “this is what you get for asking me to say that”, and kissed my forehead. Dick.

Thank god I am a hunter, I will not only be able to get my hands untied and kill that Winchester. I wore a shirt and a different pair of panties and fell asleep. I woke up about an hour later realizing the training I have with the elder Winchester. Well, that will be interesting.

------

“Good morning, Samuel.”

He kissed my head and said, “That is not my name.”

I entered the room and I met the handsome figure of Dean, my mind went into the last night sex and got butterflies instantly.

“I have some things to do, and by some things I mean a meet Iris on a date,” Sam said

This piqued the interest in the room.

“Don’t say anything.” He continued.

“You are working out with Dean alone.” Sam looked at me and said.

My heart sank and the butterflies doubled. This will be an interesting day.

------

We entered the barren land a little behind the motel. We didn’t say anything, we just started working with knife control. This was our daily routine. Dean was quieter than usual, his eyes were hungrier than ever. I take out my knife and charged at him, he grabbed my hand and flipped me around, showing the knife into my neck. While his other hand twisted mine behind my back.

“Dean you are hurting me.” I managed to choke up.

He threw the knife away but didn’t lose the grip on my wrists, I was on my tippy toes to almost meet his height. His hand grabbing my wrist near my throat loosened up and got ahold of my throat. He pushed my head back and met his eyes to mine. He got his lips close to my lips to mine and whispered, “tell me you are mine.” I was filled with anger and managed to push him away.

“What do you want Dean?” I moved towards him

“Huh? What do you want?” I continued as I pushed him away, with every word I said.

“ You try to make me call you mine, but you flirt and fuck every girl. Have you seen me do that? I have pined for you, liked you and you gave me nothing. You are always so jealous and possessive. I am tired, Dean.”

“I don’t know how to love. I never did.” He said

He cupped my face and looked me into my eyes, “teach me how to love you.” He said as he said softly.

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #dean winchester #dean smut #dean deserves better #dean boots #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x you #reader x dean winchester #dean winchester x female!reader #jensen akles imagines #jensen ackles