#Dean Winchester x princess reader

[iprobablyshipit91]

Words Unsaid

Part 8

Genre: romance / mutual pining / fluff / angst / royal au

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Pain, panic attacks, reliving past trauma (attempted assault). Please only read if you’re of age and comfortable.

Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Series Masterlist || SPN Masterlist

Previous || Next

I’m so, so sorry this has took so long! Just a bad combination of RL and writers block. It’s a longer chapter though so hopefully that makes up for the wait. Big thanks to @spnexploration for encouraging me to write and for beta reading for me 💕

"Pity, I really did want you to enjoy this you know." And then he's squeezing your cheeks together hard pressing the vial between your lips and tipping the liquid in. You try to spit it out but his hand is quickly over your mouth, forcing you to swallow. A tear runs down your cheek as you feel your limbs suddenly feel like they’re moving through treacle, your ability to struggle getting harder and harder. You feel Lucifers weight finally lift off you but your body is too full of lead to make another escape. To your horror you hear the rustling of your skirts and scream as loudly as you can. You vision starts to go blurry again, a fog filling your brain as your mind shuts down. The last thing you feel is cold hands on your legs before the darkness takes you under.

You gradually come around to the deep ringing of bells, slow and steady. You realise after a moment it’s the warnings bells that sit on the walls next to the gates of the castle, their somber toll letting the kingdom know there is danger. You can hear people around you shouting, screaming and crying yet your body won’t respond to even the simplest of movements. Your eyes feel too heavy to open.

You suddenly wonder if the commotion is for you.

The lethargy slowly seeps away and leaves room for panic to set in. You can feel hands holding you and you double your efforts to move, try to do anything at all, but you can't. You’re stuck, helpless in the darkness. Your heart slams in your chest as suddenly voices become clearer around you.

"Cas, is she-" the quivering voice of your mother falters. You feel soft hands push back your hair with a familiarity and you calm fractionally knowing that you are no longer in the orchards and your mother is here.

"That rash…” fingers ghost along your neck and you cringe inwardly. “She's been poisoned by hemlock I believe. It paralyses the victim before-" The doctor stops abruptly and you can hear your mother swallow hard. Your panic grows.

"Before what?" It's a broken whisper, and you feel your heart shatter as her hot, wet tears land on your arm. The silence tells you all you need to know.

“Before what, Cas?” Your mother demands, stronger now and channeling every bit of the Queen she is.

“I can make an antidote and bring her back.” You notice the doctor still avoids the question but there is determination and reassurance in his voice. “Please stay and talk to her, the paralysis won’t extend to her mind. She will still be very aware of all that is going on around her.“

His footsteps hurry away and then you feel soft lips press against your forehead, hair ticking your cheek and nose. Your mother's voice drifts over you, soft, gentle and calming.

"Don't leave me, my darling. Stay strong and hold on for us."

You’re not sure how long you lay there for, listening to your mothers whispers of reassurance and love. Your mind is hazy at best with your thoughts drifting in and out. The only constants are your mothers hand holding your fingers tightly and the steady tolling of the bells. At some point you think you hear some yelling and shouting but it’s too far away to properly understand.

A door slams open and footsteps hurry to your side. Castiel exchanges a quick word with your mother before you feel his hands prising your jaw open. You sense his hesitation before he says softly. "I'm so sorry, Princess."

A thick, vile tasting substance slides into your mouth and down your throat leaving you feeling suffocated until it slips down your throat. A few moments pass, the thudding of your heart loud in your ears and then suddenly your eyes are flying open and you’re coughing, grimacing as the remnants of the antidote are swallowed. You look at your mother, her eyes red rimmed and wide as relief floods her face, then to Cas, whose face is grim. You feel a strange tingling throughout your limbs.

"What-" you begin but cut off in a groan when pain rips through your body, causing you to arch on the bed. It continues to intensify and you scream, feeling like fire is licking at your body, muscles burning. You thrash around on the bed, trying to wrench away from it as you beg for the pain to stop.

"What is happening?" Your mother shouts, holding you down as you claw at your body, desperately needing the pain to go away. You feel like your whole body is aflame, succumbing to the hot inferno taking over.

You scream and scream, until your voice cracks and breaks. The door to your room slams open and you see a pair of broken green eyes and then nothing at all.

When you finally wake again, the room is dark. You blink a few times as you come around and take stock. Your room is blissfully quiet, and you realise the bells have finally stopped. There is movement outside your door though and panic starts to take hold until your recognise the rhythmic marching of the guards. Your throat is sore and your body feels like it's been trampled on by a herd of horses multiple times but the blinding hot pain you felt before has dulled into an ache throbbing deep in your bones. Your mind stumbles, struggling to remember how you got here in the first place.

Lucifer.

The Orchards.

Oh God, Dean.

You look around, scanning the bodies huddled around your bed asleep. Your mother and father are tucked against one another to your left, sharing the chaise lounge that was usually placed beneath your window. Cas is reclined in your favourite arm chair, snoring lightly. Bobby sits on your desk chair at the foot of the bed, arms folded and chin on his chest, though you notice his hand is still wrapped around his sword. Sam is on the floor, head tilted back against your mattress. Finally, your eyes land on Dean, body bent forward, forehead resting on the mattress next to your hand.

Your fingers inch towards him, wincing in pain at even the tiniest movement. You sigh in relief when your fingers tangle in his hair.

You turn on your side with a groan and curl your body around his. At your movement Sam turns and smiles at you. His lips start to move but before you can try and make anything out, unconsciousness wraps around you like a warm blanket and you’re asleep again.

A hand touches your face and panic jolts your body upwards. You immediately grimace.

"Easy, Princess." Castiel’s voice is low and soothing as he holds his hands up in front of you in supplication, allowing you to relax fractionally, eyes darting around the room as your heart beats quickly in your chest. Your bedroom is bathed in bright sunlight and you let out a shuddering breath, wide eyes falling back to the doctor.

He helps adjust your cushions so you’re sat comfortably on the bed, movements careful and deliberate, eyes constantly searching yours for permission. A frown mars his face and you can't help but notice how much older he suddenly seems. He sighs and sits heavily in the chair next to the bed, the one you vaguely remember seeing him in when you woke last night. Your eyes dance around the room before landing back on Castiel and he gives you a small, sad smile.

"Don’t worry, they aren’t far at all" He inclines his head to your bedroom door and his smile turns much more genuine. "I just didn’t want you to be overwhelmed when you first woke up. Now, how are you feeling?"

You shift and wince sharply. You want to tell him your body feels like it’s been trampled on continuously by a herd of horses and your throat feels like you’ve swallowed broken glass but you don’t think you’ll be able to manage all that.

"Hurts." You croak, your throat sore and scratchy, making your words barely intelligible. You put your hand to your throat and wince again and Castiels face contorts back into a frown.

"Don't talk." He says and pulls himself from your chair. He reaches into his large bag at the foot of your bed, pulling out different herbs and small bottles and you watch in fascination as he carefully mixes them together in a large cup.

He glances up at you. "This should soothe your throat and make it easier to speak, although I suggest you do so as little as possible. It should also ease your pain a bit." He hands the drink over to you and you raise your eyebrows at him and give him a look, remembering very well what happened the last time you swallowed something Castiel had made. He understands your expression, smiling with embarrassment. "Don't worry, Princess. This one has no side-effects."

You take a tentative sip, the cool liquid tasting strange, but the soothing affect on your throat is almost immediate. You drink from the cup greedily, the ache in your limbs lessening with each gulp. Cas watches you carefully as you relax back into the pillows of your bed and hand him the cup back.

"I dressed your wounds while you were sleeping." He says quietly. You suddenly notice a thick white bandage on your outstretched arm and everything comes rushing back at once. Lucifer and the orchards. Fighting him off, being forced to drink that awful concoction, pain, and then darkness. You feel your entire body locking down, heart pounding in your chest and Cas swallows hard.

You remember the feeling of his hands on your legs, and cold and clammy and wrong. Lucifer's intentions had been clear in the orchard.

"Did he… " Your throat closes up and you inhale sharply, feeling borderline hysterical. You gasp for breath and Cas looks panicked. You can't remember though, everything is just a blur. You need to know if he touched you, if he ruined you. Cas shakes his head hard.

"No." His blue eyes darken and he shakes his head again. "No, Princess, he did not. Dean found you just as the poison took affect."

You sigh audibly, wiping the tears that have built in your eyes, embarrassed at how quickly you became frantic. Your heart drops to your stomach though as you think of Dean and what he must have seen. What had he thought? You bite your lip and stare hard at your bed sheets.

"I refuse to use the word minor, but most of your injuries are cuts and bruises that will heal just fine. You do have two broken ribs however." You press lightly over your torso and feel a thick bandage wrapped around your stomach, under your nightgown. You suddenly feel uncomfortable, a frown forming on your face.

"Your mother." He whispers kindly and you breath a sigh of relief. You trust Castiel with your life but the idea of anyone touching you right now makes your skin crawl.

"I’m afraid the poison, however, will leave its mark on you." You flinch as you remember the blinding pain. Cas’ eyes flit down your neck and you follow the path with your fingers, feeling a web of raised skin there, almost like an intricate lace pattern. You quirk an eyebrow at him and he nods sadly.

"That will be permanent, I'm afraid. I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but you were very lucky. We almost lost you."

You want to snort. Lucky. Nothing about the way you feel right now feels lucky. There’s suddenly a light scuffling against the wood of your door and you can hear muted voices before it falls silent again. You look back to Cas.

"They're all quite impatient to make sure you're alright. Shall I let them in?"

Your chest tightens as you can’t even contemplate how you’re going to explain all of this to your parents. It was your own stupid fault for slipping off to the orchards alone after all. You’re desperate to see familiar faces though, one especially. You nod and Cas shuffles over to the door, and pokes his head out.

There's a whispered conversation with whoever is on the other side and then your father is striding through the door with your mother close behind. Bobby also slips in before Cas slides out into the hallway and shuts the door behind him.

Your heart drops.

No Dean.

You idly wonder if you imagined him last night. You don’t have time to dwell however as your father comes to a stop in front of you, his hands clenched at his side and a distraught look on his face. Your heart breaks as his gaze softens and he falls to his knees by your side.

"Y/n." He whispers. His hands hover awkwardly over you and you realise with a turn of your stomach that he's afraid to touch you. Tears fill your eyes as you reach determinedly for his much larger hand.

"Hey, Dad." You whisper back and he gives you a weak smile as his fingers wrap around yours and he presses a kiss to your hand. The contact makes you uneasy, but you push it away. Your mother sighs heavily as she takes the chair Cas abandoned. You notice her eyes are puffy and glistening with tears so you reach for her hand too. A broken sob leaves her lips as her fingers twist with yours. The three of you sit like that for a moment, huddled together, taking one another in.

Your father moves back first and you notice he looks exhausted. He keeps his fingers wrapped around yours as he scrubs his other hand roughly down his face. He sighs heavily, carefully wiping a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"Can you tell us what happened?"

You inhale sharply. It’s the question you’ve dreaded. You don’t want to speak of it, don’t want to even think of it ever again.

"It helps." Bobbys voice is gruff but his eyes are soft as you turn to meet his gaze and he shrugs. "When something terrible happens to you, it helps to get it out of your head. I promise you that."

You know he speaks from experience so you sigh heavily, mentally preparing yourself as you rub your hands roughly against your eyes. You wince at the dull ache that shoots through you with the motion, and belatedly realise you must have a black eye.

"I was in the orchards and he came out of the trees. I guess he must have followed me from the castle." Your voice is still rough and scratchy but the drink Cas made you is helping no end as the pain is minimal compared to before. You swallow hard.

"Who?" Your father asks carefully and you look at him in surprise.

"Lucifer. I thought you knew." He nods stiffly, eyes darkening slightly and the tightness returning to his jaw. His eyes flicker to Bobby before looking back to you.

“And why were you in the orchards?”

You hesitate for just a fraction. “I’d agreed to meet Dean after the ball. You know how tedious I find those things.” You hate that you’re not telling the full truth to your parents but this is not the time and place to get into that conversation. Your father seems satisfied though and nods for you to continue. You close your eyes and try to remember.

"He threatened me. He said such awful things." You remember what he said about Dean and you shudder as you open your eyes. “I smacked him." A ghost of a smile passes over your father's lips. "He got angry and pushed me back against a tree. He hit me and then he…" You grimace as you remember his mouth closing over yours. How his hips had pressed tight against your own, his arousal straining against your leg. You feel sick.

You avert your eyes and look down at the blankets. "He kissed me." You mutter and your mother stills out of the corner of you eye. You watch as your father's hand clenches so hard on the bedspread, his knuckles turn white. "I kneed him in the gut, and he fell back. I tried to get away, I swear I did, I tried to fight him off, but he was so strong and – "

You cut off as your breathing gets hard and you know your panicking, but you can't get your heart to calm. You squeeze your eyes shut but then feel fingers soothing over your hair, causing your entire body to jolt back away from the contact. You push back hard against the headboard and when you open your eyes, you see dark trees and cold eyes. You blink again and you’re back in your bedroom. Your father and mother are looking at you in concern and you force yourself to breath deeply.

You are safe. You are safe. You are safe.

You hope to God that Bobby is right because you’ve barely said anything at all and it still feels overwhelming. "We fell to the ground and I was trying to crawl away. He pulled me back and that's when he poisoned me." You see the question in their eyes. "He had a vial. I tried to stop it but he forced me to drink it.”

You let out a shaking breath and feel moisture on your cheeks. When did you even start crying? "And I don't remember anything else." You whisper brokenly.

Your father nods and looks to Bobby, a silent conversation clearly happening between the two as though you’ve just cleared something up. Your father nods towards the door and says quietly. “Let them in.”

You watch in confusion as Bobby goes to open the door. He steps back and suddenly Dean is standing there with Sam behind him, a supportive hand on his shoulder.

His arm is slung tight across his chest and his face looks black and blue with bruises on his cheek, eye and jaw. There’s an awful cut on his forehead and his lip is busted open. His eyes find you immediately though, staring at you like you aren’t real.

You exhale, finally able to breathe again.

"How are you feeling?" Your mother asks and Dean visibly jumps, eyes flickering over to your mother for a moment before locking back on you. Sam moves to the other side of your bed and pulls two chairs up. Dean limps over, moving slowly.

"Cas fixed me up well and good." He says with a grin, but the grin turns into a grimace as he sits. You blink at him and he gives you a half-hearted wink.

"Don't stress, sweetheart. You should see the other guy."

Bobby snorts and Sam rolls his eyes, but your fathers face is still stern. His body is tight and coiled and he looks about ready to snap. "Dean. Why were you in the orchards?" He asks sharply. You see Dean fidgeting awkwardly before he answers. “I’d asked the Princess to meet me after the ball. I could see she wasn’t enjoying herself and wanted to cheer her up.” He sighs heavily as a distraught look passes over his face. “I was late though. King Charles was demanding more wine and had me running back and forth being choosy over what he wanted.“ He mutters bitterly. “Sam eventually took over for me but I realise now he was probably just stalling me.”

A muscle in your fathers jaw starts to tick as he grinds his teeth in frustration. "Tell us what happened when you came upon Y/n."

Dean rubs his face with his good hand and you can see he has no more desire to relive this anymore than you do. He meets your gaze, speaking softly. "As I came into the orchards, I heard you scream." He pauses and the look on his face is something you’ve never seen before. It causes your stomach to plummet and you want to reach out to him, but your body is aching and your parents are here and it's not the place.

"When I came into the clearing, Lucifer was on top of you. You weren't moving, you were so still, I didn't know if…" He sighs again, frustrated with himself.

"I kept shouting at him to get off you while I ran to you but it was like the jerk didn't even hear me. He just kept on-" Dean cuts off abruptly, eyes flickering to your father and then back to you. You know it must be bad if he's choosing his words carefully.

Your father notices his hesitancy too and if possible, grows tenser. Your mother reaches for his hand but he brushes her off, standing up and pacing the room like a caged animal. "Continue." He barks and everyone in the room jumps at the command.

"He was preoccupied with himself." Dean mutters with disgust and you close your eyes tight. Everything in you shaking at what almost was.

There is a loud crash and your eyes shoot open to see your bookcase face down on the floor. You barely catch your father wrenching open the door to your bedroom before it's slammed shut again. There is another crash from further down the hallway and your mother half stands.

"No." Bobby mutters, eyes fixed on the door. "I'll go. Stay with the princess."

Your mother nods and Bobby slips out of your room. Your eyes dart back to Dean and he's still staring hard at you, green eyes looking at you as though you might disappear.

Your stomach flips and a warmth spreads through you for the first time since you woke. You want to roll your eyes that he somehow still manages to evoke that reaction when you feel, and probably look, like absolute shit. His lips twitch.

"What happened?" You manage a gesture to his arm and face and he shrugs.

"We fought." His eyes are hard and dark and you wonder what sort of things Lucifer said to him. "I managed to knock him out and that's when I grabbed you. I got you to the gates, told the guards to alert the King and Queen. I didn’t expect them to sound the bloody war bells though." He rolls his eyes and you remember the deep tolling of the bells on the walls. Apparently they were for you. You sigh and watches as a warm blush climbs his cheekbones and he shuffles in his chair.

"And then, uh, I sort of passed out as well."

You blink at him. "You passed out?"

His blush burns hotter and your mother takes your free hand carefully. "Darling, Dean had dislocated his shoulder. The orchards are far away."

You look back to Dean and he's looking down at his fingers, ashamed and embarrassed and you want to cry because he saved you and he's upset that he passed out from pain? He's so ridiculous sometimes. Your eyes prick at the idea of what he must of endured carrying your completely unconscious and paralysed body the long distance between the castle walls and the orchard.

"Thank you." You whisper and his head snaps back up. He gives you a weak smile.

"Anything for you, sweetheart."

Next

Tags:

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@spnexploration

@sassy-pelican

@sojuxxi

@irgendwas122

~

[zepskies]

As You Wish

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When Dean agreed to watch your favorite movie with you, you didn’t think it’d come with live subtitles.

AN: Here’s a little something in honor of Dean’s birthday! If you haven’t seen The Princess Bride, do yourself a favor. 🥰

Word Count: 600

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, and nothing but the fluff. (Established relationship.)

“My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die!” Dean says, right in time with the iconic swashbuckler on the screen, complete with his best approximation at a Spanish accent.

You giggle against his side, hard enough to rock both of you on the bed. When he agreed to watch your favorite movie with you, you didn’t think it’d come with live subtitles.

“Are you gonna quote the whole damn movie?” you ask.

Dean brandishes an imaginary sword with his fist held out.

“HELLO! My name is—”

Biting your lip, you cut him off short by playing dirty. You wrap your arm around his middle and dance your fingers across his ribs. He’d never admit it, but he’s got sensitive sides.

He flinches and laughs on reflex. “Hey, hey! That’s a foul move!”

His arm tightens around your waist while his other hand closes around your wrist. You try to grapple with him, your bare legs tangling with his pajama-clad ones, but you both know it’s a losing battle.

Dean gathers you tighter against his chest and traps your wandering hand.

Huffing another laugh, you relax again. His heart clips at a faster pace under your ear. Your hand smooths up his chest and finds its way up the back of his neck.

Dean can't help it. He lets out a contented hum when your nails give his scalp a little scratch.

For a moment, his attention drifts away from the movie and down to you. He spies the soft edge of your smile, feels your hair starting to itch against his arm, your soft curves under his hand, pressing against him.

You two don’t get these quiet days often, but he wants to make sure you get some rest. You, Sam, and Dean spent about three straight weeks in a row with back-to-back hunts, and the last one had really taken it out of you. So now, Dean’s satisfied to see you so relaxed. Happy, even.

Yeah. You really do seem to be as happy as he (secretly) feels.

Sometimes, he finds that part hard to believe. If you could want this with someone like him, then maybe…maybe he doesn’t screw up all the time.

Dean tunes back into the movie just in time for Buttercup to jump out of the window in her pretty white dress. She and Westley join Fezzik and Inigo on white horses, and the couple shares the kiss that left all the others behind.

Dean glances down at your face. He’s amused by the way you’re eating up all this sappy rom-com crap. Your eyes are shining with unshed tears. He ducks down to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“You just spring a leak over anything, don’t you?” he teases. You shove at his chest with a halfhearted hand.

“Only over the good stuff,” you retort.

He accepts that with a chuckle. When the credits start to roll down the screen, he reaches for the remote and searches for the episode you guys left off in Game of Thrones. You tap his chest.

“Hey, wanna go out to dinner tonight?” you ask. A warm smile plays on your lips. “Just you and me?”

Dean blinks. He doesn’t remember the last time you two went on an honest-to-God date. No time, no privacy, always something evil on your asses…

A decision made in his mind, Dean gives you a smile back. He brushes his thumb across your cheek.

“As you wish,” he says.

AN: 😘 Hope you liked this one!

Dean Winchester One-Shots

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Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

[beansandsprouts]

Hugs and Kisses

Dean Winchester x fem reader

Summmary: Dean's just smitten with you and finally gets up the confidence to tell you those three special words.

Warnings: none

You were chopping some vegetables when you felt a pair of arms encircle your waist.

"Dean, I'm cooking."

"I know." He murmured.

He began to gently press light kisses against your neck and shoulder.

"Stop, that tickles." You said, though a smile was evident in your voice.

He grunted in response and continued to kiss you, nipping at your skin a bit.

"You're very distracting." You said as you set the knife down and turned to face him, you rested your hands on his shoulders.

"Mhm." He was giving you that look that was reserved only for you.

It was soft, his face wasn't tense or frowning like it usually was. A smile graced his features, and his eyes were full of love.

"Do you want something, my love?"

"Maybe." His eyes flicked down to your lips.

"And what could that possibly be?"

You liked to make him ask outright. He always got a little sheepish about it, not used to wanting affection, let alone that type of affection. It made your heart flutter to see him shy and flustered.

"I think you know princess."

"Do I?" You grinned. You definitely did.

He bit the inside of his cheek, a few moments passed.

"Can I-can I kiss you?"

You grinned, "Yes Dean, you can kiss me."

Eagerly he leaned forward, lifting one hand to cup your cheek as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

Dean loved kissing you, it was intoxicating. He loved feeling you smile against his lips, he loved feeling you kiss back. He loved holding you while he did, feeling you so close to him. There was a time when he never thought he'd be able to do this.

You hummed in contentment as he swiped his tongue across your bottom lip and allowed him to deepen the kiss.

Your hands moved to run through his hair, he loved when you touched him so freely and lovingly.

Before, anytime he was touched by a woman it was sexual, they only want to get in his pants. But with you, you just wanted to touch him, to memorize the planes of his body and the feeling of his skin under your fingertips. He loved feeling your fingers run through his hair.

He gently pulled back, eyes taking in your face. The way you looked at him so adoringly.

"I love you." He said.

Both your eyes widened at the unexpected confession.

"Wait, shit, I'm sorry I didn't mean to-its too soon isn't it? Fuck y/n-"

"I love you too." You said quickly, before he could lose himself in his worries.

"Really?"

"Yes Dean. Really. I love you." You said softly.

You stood up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his forehead and he sighed in relief, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder.

The two of you stood there for awhile, content with standing in each other's arms.

"You're my world ya know," he finally said, lifting his head to meet your eyes, "You're my light, my life. You've given me so much and asked so little in return and I just...I'd do anything for you."

"Dean..."

"You don't have to say anything. You love me too, and that's made me happier than I've ever been. I don't think I could get much happier than this."

He was smiling so hard, his eyes were full of love, and he was looking at you like nothing else mattered.

"I don't need anyone but you." You whispered.

And he leaned down and kissed you again, slow and sweet.

"Now," he said as he pulled back, "Why don't I help you finish up dinner?"

[fishyvamp]

Imagine a medieval!AU where Princess!reader is betrothed to King Macmillan. He's cold and distant to you and the only one who seems to show you the slightest sympathy is Sir Ojomo the knight tasked with your safety. He's the one taking you to all your dress fittings, he's the one who listens as you complain that your betrothed seems too busy with the Captain of the guards to even speak with you. That pesky man always glued by the kings side.

Sir Ojomo knows something you don't and he hates the king for it. The king will never love you no matter how much he tries, but this marriage will always be one of convenience and politics. You will produce his heir, but once a son is born he will likely never touch you again.

Though what Phillip hates the most is how he finds himself craving the company of the future queen. He hates how his mind is filled your laughs and corny jokes. He hates that when he closes his eyes at night his dreams are filled with nothing but your naked form and the way it would look glowing under the moonlight. He is a traitor to the crown for even having these dreams. For having these visions of the woman who belongs to his dearest friend the king.

[flamencodiva]

Underworld's Princess 7

Description: While the Greek God’s and Goddesses hold divine power, there is also a responsibility that comes with that very power. What happens when Illiara, or Y/N as she likes to call herself, decides that those very responsibilities aren’t worth the power? Prepare for the wild adventure of Y/N finding who she truly is, fighting against her blood and her love, as she attempts to break free from the cursed bonds placed upon her and to finally live free.  

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!GreekGoddess!Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: Language, Blood, Violence, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn

Word Count:4877

Beta: @watermelonlipstick (thank you so much for beating this hun! you have no idea how much I appreciate you!)

Also going to thank @writercole and @jensengirl83 you ladies are my ride or die and I love you both soooooo much!

Book Cover on Main Masterlist by: @talesmaniac89 and Dividers by @firefly-graphics Aesthetic Created by: Me 

Underworld’s Princess Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Sam and Dean had driven to Parthenon only to find that the professor had left to lecture at the local college. Professor Nedra Athena Athanasiou (a-tha-nah-see-ou) was beginning to pick up steam on the Ancient Greek Gods when the Winchesters slipped in, having been directed to the class by a sleepy-looking coed. . 

“We start to see that civilization and different societies now segregate based on the gods they worship,” Professor Athanasiou lectured. 

“Like Sparta worshiping Ares and Athens Athena?” A student called out, raising their hand somewhat pointlessly at the same time they spoke. 

“Exactly right,” the professor acknowledged. “But many other gods had their worshipers, and that included Hades. Most notably, when one invokes the name of a God, you garner their attention. So, when invoking Hades, simply call upon the overseer of justice in the afterlife. He determined the worth of your soul.” 

“But didn’t he kidnap Persephone?” The girl who’d asked seemed genuinely disturbed, taking notes furiously with eyebrows twisted in concentration. 

“Ah,” professor Athanasiou chuckled, “The famed story of Hades and Persephone. There are many versions of the story. But I have discovered an ancient tablet in the very sacred area of the Archeon river in Ephyra. Rumors circulate that the river is the gateway to the Underworld. While Hades did not have a large following of worshipers, he had a small cult, the Oracles of the Dead. These were simple seers who could predict the death of someone. They would commune with Thanatos and then see the judgment of the soul Hades had placed on them.” 

“Doesn’t that mean that they were risking Hades' wrath? I mean, to worship the dead or underworld was a bad omen, wasn’t it?” 

“Yes, that is the assumption,” professor Athanasiou agreed with her student. “And yet, Lord Hades is said to be compassionate when it comes to grief. The Necromanteion of Acheron was a place for mourners to commune with their lost loved ones. It is for those who respected Hades and his rule over the souls of our world. Considering that most stories are about Zeus and his exploits.” She paused for dramatic effect. “We all can see how just because he oversees the souls and determines their worth, Hades was a pussy cat in comparison.” 

Much of the class chuckled. 

To his surprise, Dean found himself interested in the volley between them.. A small part of him wondered about the god and his wife. 

“If Hades didn’t kidnap Persephone,” he called out, “then what’s the skinny there?”  

“Dean, what are you–” Sam began, quickly cut off by the professor. 

“That is the conversation we were supposed to have,” she chuckled. “But Hades stumbled upon the young goddess when she approached his gate. She had demanded entrance to see how things worked. That, and she was curious about the lord of the Underworld.” The class laughed again when she put bogeyman-like emphasis on ‘underworld’, and Sam thought it sounded genuine. She was good–not every professor could keep college kids on the edge of their seats about old stories like this. 

Dean leaned his elbows on his thighs, resting his head in his hands as he listened. Sam wasn’t sure what angle his brother was going for, but whatever kept Dean invested in research was fine by him. 

“Hades knew that Demeter would not want her daughter consorting with the dead and other creatures of the Underworld, so he demanded she leave,” professor Athanasiou continued. “Hades had Cerberus guard the gates and deny entry to the young Persephone. But the young Goddess was determined to explore the Underworld and learn about its ruler. You see,” she paused and looked at her students. “It’s hotly debated whether Hades was a true Olympian.”

“Wouldn’t calling him an Olympian mean he had a throne on Olympus?” A student asked from the back of the room. 

“And therein lies the debate,” the professor announced, “For one to be considered an Olympian, one must have a throne on Olympus. But Hades is a part of the Olympic Gods as he is the third brother to Zeus, and he helped both to defeat the Titans and imprison them. This is the paradox we find ourselves in.” 

“Persephone brought three gifts for Cerberus. Each head wanted something different,” she progressed. “The first head to her left loved balls. The middle head was fond of bones to chew on, and the third head loved to eat fresh meat.” 

Professor Athanasiou used her body to act out the actions she narrated. Dean couldn’t help but smirk at the professor's teaching method, but perked up when she continued the story. 

“Once Persephone was sure she gained Cerberus’ trust,” she narrated, “the young Goddess made her way towards the river where the ferryman Charon awaited. As we all know, Charon is the ferryman who takes souls to Lord Hades to be assessed and placed in Tartarus, where one is tortured for all eternity. Or the Elysian fields where you live your days in peace.” 

Dean raised his hand, “So this is the Greeks’ version of the uh, pearly gates and the deep fryer?” He glanced around when the students near him snickered at the rough gestures above and below he’d made, the apparent annoyance on his face only decipherable to Sam as covering up a touch of self-consciousness.

“One can make that assessment, yes.” The professor offered him a smirk. “I’m sorry, you seem rather new to my class and –” 

“I do apologize, Ma’am,” Dean offered. “I’m looking to transfer and I was told this class was taught by a goddess, who is passionate about Greek History and Mythology. I have to say they were right. .” 

“Hmmm,” the professor blushed and winked at him. “I hope my lecture so far has wine and dined you today. Thought you might want to tone the flirting down a bit. ” 

“Yes, Ma’am,” Dean chuckled. 

“Now,” professor Athanasiou continued, “Persephone would sneak into the Underworld and shadow Lord Hades for days. She watched as he passed judgment on the souls that entered the Underworld. She could see that his eyes were filled with sadness and loneliness. Something that had the young goddess’s heart ache. She didn’t like seeing the Lord of the Underworld in pain, much less that he was technically her Uncle. Then again, these are the Gods we are discussing, but that is a discussion for another day. Anyway, seeing Hades look sad and lonely propelled the young Goddess to reveal herself.” 

Professor Athanasiou paced in front of her desk as she continued. Persephone had begun to annoy Hades with trivial questions such as his favorite hobby and what he thought of the stars. Dean couldn’t help but wonder why the Goddess of Agriculture wanted to be with a God who handled dead souls day in and day out. 

Dean continued to listen intently as the professor reached the climax. 

“For all the time that Persephone had gone to visit Hades,” she stated, “Her mother, Demeter, had begun to notice. Demeter was very protective of her daughter and was horrified that her precious Louloúdi—flower for those of you who have not taken Greek yet.” 

She chuckled along with other students in the class. 

“So, she was horrified to see her daughter communicating and intimately touching the Lord of the Underworld. Now mind you, intimately to Demeter was Persephone linking arms with Hades as he led her deeper into his realm.” 

Professor Athanasiou paused and took a deep breath. Her eyes roamed over all the students in attendance before falling on Dean’s intense stare.  

“This is where the myth coincides with what was written on the tablet I found,” she held Dean’s gaze as she moved on. “Demeter went to Zeus and accused Hades of kidnapping her daughter and imprisoning her in the Underworld. Of Course, Persephone being Zeus’s daughter, he was outraged at the thought. But then again, he felt sorrow for his brother, who spent much of his time in solitude. So, Zeus called upon Hades and Persephone and demanded to know what was happening. Well, to make this incredibly long story short,” she paused as her students laughed. 

Sam couldn’t help but notice the slightly sad look on the professor’s face. 

“Zeus knew that Persephone was curious but had forbidden her from seeing Hades. However, Persephone ignored Zeus’s warnings and snuck her way into the Underworld and to the Elysian fields. There she took a pomegranate from the tree of knowledge and took a bite. She had six seeds in her mouth and was about to take another when Hades stopped Persephone.”

The professor nodded and walked across the front of the lecture hall. She paused and took a deep breath before turning back to her students. 

“Hades gazed at her with fire in her eyes before she pulled him in for a fierce kiss that melted the cold heart of the Lord of the Underworld.” She took a deep breath before continuing, “it was at this moment that the woven tapestry of the Fates had begun to glow. This was meant to happen.” 

Dean huffed and let out a snort. He remembered dealing with one of the Fates and wasn’t interested in a round two. 

“You see, fate has a funny way of working. And the three Fates, Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, forsaw  the one thing Zeus could not. Hades and Persephone would have a powerful child who would not bend to Zeus’s will. For you see, the Gods all had to follow Zeus’s will, and even though Hades could technically usurp his brother, he chose not to. Hades is very content with his life in the Underworld, and with Persephone by his side, he saw no need to be amongst the Gods of Olympus. But his youngest daughter was rumored to be the one who will never bend to the word of Zeus, for she would hold a power to rival his own. And should Zeus continue to fight Fate,” the professor chuckled, “the young Goddess would be his downfall.”   

 Dean rolled his eyes. This was getting him and Sam no closer to finding this Illiara. He was about to get up when the professor cleared her throat. 

“This is what Fate had in store. I just happened to find a piece of the tapestry found to prove my claim that the stories of Hades and Persephone are all about suppressing what one does not understand.”

Dean felt his breath hitch as a pair of violet eyes stared back at him. The professor's picture showed a woman with shades of violet and dark purple in her hair standing atop a hill overlooking the world. She looked ethereal to Dean, and something about her pulled at his heart, even if it was just a picture. But something else caught Dean’s eye: a figure in the background, bright green eyes looking at the goddess as her hair flowed in the wind. Something flashed in Dean’s mind.   

‘Find her and guide her. But your task is not easy, vessel of the archangels. You will be tested and pushed to your limits as you rise, Hero of the Underworld.’ 

Dean shook his head at the sensation and groaned. Whatever that was, he had no time to dwell on it. He had to find this Illiara and send her packing back to where she belonged, the Underworld.

“You okay?” Sam asked, concern flashing on his face. 

“Fine,” Dean mumbled as he turned his attention back to the professor. 

“It seems our time is up,” she said as students grumbled. “I know, I know.” she held her hands up in surrender. “But I do have one assignment for you. Visit the replica of the Parthenon in Nashville,” she announced, her eyes holding on to Dean’s gaze. “You won’t regret it, plus it's extra credit, as long as I get a report on anything interesting you find.” 

The Winchesters waited patiently for the rest of the students to filter out of the lecture hall, digesting the story. But on top of the words, Dean’s mind was on the picture of the famed Illiara. He walked over to the projection and tilted his head. Something about the eyes called to him, the deep violet seeming to come alive as he continued to stare. The hair seemed to move with unseeable wind ;the white, lavender and purple mix appeared to sway, hypnotizing Dean. 

“Dean.” 

Sam’s voice and snapping fingers broke Dean out of his trance. 

“Huh?” he called out, returning his focus to the present. 

The professor and Sam seemed to be looking at Dean curiously. 

“I was just telling your brother here that if you want to know more about Persephone and Hades, there is a book I have published. Though it hasn’t been released yet, I do have an advanced copy I could give you.” 

Sam thanked the professor as he took the hefty manuscript in his hands. At that moment, Dean received an important call from their friend James. James had met Dean on a vampire hunt before having to save his mom and Jack from Apocalypse world. James said that a hunter nearby needed their help with several monsters they had never seen before. Dean shot Sam a look, signaling to the younger one that it was time to go to work. Once they were gone, professor Athanasiou let out a small chuckle before a bright light engulfed her.  

There stood the Goddess Athena, smiling as she gazed at the door the Winchester Brothers had exited from. 

“The cogs of Fate are in motion,” she sighed as her owl flew into the lecture hall and perched on her shoulder. “Bubo, you might need to keep an eye on them. Be my eyes and ears and guide them in the right direction,” she told the owl, letting her index finger caress him gently. 

The owl simply hooted before disappearing. 

“Now,” she said to herself, “time to make sure that Illiara follows the right path as well. I have my work cut out for me.” 

Y/N sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. None of the books had any information she was looking for. It would be hard to help if there wasn’t enough information. From what she gathered, as far as witness accounts go, was that These weren’t your typical monsters. These were Cynolycus disguised as humans. Outside of the human form that imitated their original bodies, they would have the body of a stag, the neck of a lion, cloven hooves, and a bony ridged mouth. Their teeth were still ridge-like, but they had sharp cloven hands and wild hair that resembled a lion. What was worse than the way they’d once been able to parrot human voices was the way they were now able to act as humans might, mirroring their behavior to hide in plain sight.  

“What are these things?” a hunter shouted as he crumpled to the dirt. “Nothing seems to be able to penetrate them. We tried everything, from silver to iron buck shots.” 

“Fire,” Y/N called. “Burn the son of bitches down. These are Greek monsters we’re dealing with. The Cynolycus.” 

“Are you sure?” another hunter asked. “Not sure how much more I’ve got in the tank.” She noticed a rivulet of blood trickling down from his ear, knowing the damage she couldn’t see was far worse.

“You’re forgetting my family is from Greece,” she huffed. “ So either trust me and live or don’t and die. Your choice,” she spat as she looked around for her flamethrower. “All else fails, and we run out of firepower. Decapitation wouldn’t hurt either.” 

Raising her weapon, Y/N raised it high giving the monster's head a clean slice. She smiled  as the hunters who did listen rallied around her, slicing and burning the monster began. A few started to run away and It wasn’t long before she found herself alone with one of them, her resolve to control Illiara faltering. 

‘Let me out,’ Illiara hissed. ‘Let me deal with these monsters that continue to chase us.’ 

“No, you know that I can’t. We are trying to separate from one another, and you use your powers–” 

‘I don’t care,’ Illiara growled as she pushed forward. 

Y/N could feel her grip on her goddess half slipping. But it didn’t distract her from the task at hand. She noted one of the Cynolycus trying to sneak off into the forests and away from the hunters. 

“I don’t think so,” she huffed, pushing Illiara down as best she could before giving chase. 

As Y/N ran towards the escaping monster, she could feel Illiara push through. Her hair began to change to a light lavender–almost white–her eyes glowed a dark violet, and her skin prickled with power.  

“Daughter of Hades and Persephone, you honor me with your presence,” the Cynolycus chuckled. “It is an honor to die by your hand and alert lord Zeus of your location.” 

Illiara smirked at him evilly. “By all means, go ahead. I’m not afraid of him.” 

The creature's face fell slightly before he regained his composure and charged. Illiara took a deep breath and dodged the attack, rolling away. Holding out her hand, she directed her power toward summoning a black-bladed sword. Energy radiating from the Goddess pulsated all around them as they battled, creating a tornado-like swirl in the air. Illiara’s blade clashed with the monster’s claws, causing sparks to fly. Bolts of electricity circulated the goddess, firing in all directions rather than the focused control she once had. 

“So the legends are true,” the Cynolycus growled, “you have the power to rival Zeus. How is that possible?” 

“Who cares?” Illiara spat. “Are you going to talk philosophy, or are you going to fight? All I wanted was to be left alone. To live my own life. I wanted to be done with the Gods,” she cried. 

With a loud yell, she swung her blade haphazardly. Each blow sliced tiny, ineffectual rips in the monster’s skin. 

“You swing with anger,” it chuckled. “You won’t win unless you truly mean to destroy me.” 

‘Illiara, let me have control,’ Y/N demanded as she pushed through. 

Illiara shook Y/N back and let out a feral scream, plunging the sword into the belly of the beast and letting a grin slip through the blood-slick on her face. 

“Send my regards to my father, and tell him to send Zeus this message.” 

Illiara held her sword high, swinging it down and decapitating the beast. Her chest heaved with every breath, but nothing could calm her anger. Illiara could feel it. Y/N was calm and gentle but fierce and strategic. But Illiara herself could sense she was angry and unhinged. Her rage could not be satisfied, and it was all-consuming. 

Y/N pushed herself to the surface, forcing Illiara back into her cage. 

“We gotta go,” Y/N hissed. “Who knows what can of worms you’ve just opened.” 

“I knew it,” a voice called from behind her. 

Y/N closed her eyes and tried to calm her erratically beating heart. She let out her breath, she slowly turned around, holding her hands up. 

“Herman,” she said, offering him a smile. “I know what you think you saw, but–” 

“But nothing,” he interrupted. “I knew there was something off about you. No one just ‘pops’ into hunting out of nowhere, and no one can pin down where you’re from. Convenient, don’t you think?” 

There was something about the way Herman’s eyes drilled into her that had the hairs on the back of Y/N’s neck standing and Illiara’s senses on high alert. 

“Who are you?” she asked, her black-bladed sword reappearing in her hand. With the barrier weakened, Illiara easily regained control, her eyes glowing and her hair transforming.

  “My dear Illiara,” Herman chuckled. “It has been a long time since I have encountered you. I believe the last time I saw you was before you ran from Deimos and your engagement ceremony.” 

“Hermes,” the goddess hissed. “What message does he have for me now?” 

“The time for your silly game of cat and mouse is ending,” Hermes recited. “It is time you come back and fulfill your duty under my rule as leader of the Gods. That is the message from Zeus.” 

Illiara and Y/N both laughed at the message. Their split souls resonated as one, gazing into the eyes of the messenger God. 

“You can give him this message,” they said. “We will never bow down to his command. If he wants us to return, he must retrieve us himself.” 

Sam and Dean arrived at the forest location that they received from Herman. It took them a while to navigate through the trees, but the sound of conversations and cheers, their weapons reflexively at the ready. But from what they could see walking up, the hunters there had already handled the situation. 

“Where’s Herman?” Dean asked someone nearby who appeared to be post-fight stretching a crick out of his neck. 

“He went after the Ice Queen, who chased after the last freak that escaped. I tell you, that girl is a godsend.” He turned into his stretch, revealing a handful of others in the distance setting fire to what looked familiarly to the boys like a pile of corpses. 

“Which direction?” Dean growled. 

The guy pointed them toward the edge of the forest and walked toward the pyre favoring his left leg. Wordlessly, the brothers turned into the woods. After a while, Dean stopped and placed a finger to his lips. Sam followed his brother’s instructions and stilled his breathing to listen.  

“I think I hear something,” Dean whispered, pointing to a clearing in the forest's center. 

“Let’s check it out,” Sam said, following Dean. 

“You know,” Hermes chuckled. “You should know not to shoot the messenger.” 

“I don’t care,” the goddess said. 

Raising her sword over her head, she was ready to strike when Hermes shimmered into his disguise. Starting back at her was the hunter Herman, a fearful look in his eyes. 

“No, please,” he cried as it echoed around them. 

A smirk appeared on his face as he winked at the goddess. 

“I wonder what would happen if lover boy caught you like this,” he whispered for only the goddess to hear. “I mean, after all, we are nothing but monsters to them, right?” 

Illiara turned to see Sam and Dean, guns drawn at the edge of the clearing. 

“Shit,” she whispered. 

“Herman,” Dean called. “We’ll get you out.” 

“Whoever you are,” Sam said, “let him go. He’s done nothing to you.” 

Illiara took in a deep breath while Y/N stayed in the back of her mind. If Y/N took control from Illiara  now, then the brothers would know enough to pursue her. But if Illiara killed Hermes in his disguise, they would be on the run not just from the Gods but from Sam and Dean. She was stuck.

“Stay out of this, Winchesters,” she growled. “This has nothing to do with you. Herman here isn’t who you think he is.” 

“No way you can prove it,” Herman whispered before turning to the brothers. “This is Illiara. You gotta shoot her. She’s unhinged and will plunge the world into darkness if we don’t stop her.” 

Sam and Dean’s eyes flickered between Illiara and Herman. She looked exactly like the painting that professor Anathasiou had shown them in so many ways; her violet eyes glowing with power and her wild hair flowing, but there was also something familiar about her. The longer Dean’s eyes laid on her, the harder the feeling was to shake. 

“Dean,” Herman called, breaking the hunter out of his thoughts. “You know what you have to do, son. You know what she is. She’s a monster, Dean. I know deep down you can see that she needs to die.” 

Dean’s nostrils flared. In the moment he took to process, the Winchesters missed Herman/Hermes plunging a poisoned dagger into the Goddess’ side. As they leapt to action, Illiara screamed, pain and rage mixing as she stabbed her sword into Herman/Hermes’s abdomen. It wouldn’t kill him, but the Winchesters couldn’t know, their eyes watching a fellow hunter fall as Illiara watched her chance at the messenger of the Gods slipping.

“You bitch,” Dean growled as he opened fire on Illiara. 

Illiara raised her hands, stopping the bullets before her and letting them fall to the ground. 

“You know nothing of what you are dealing with, mortal,” she huffed before moving at lightning speed before him. 

Her nose practically touched his as she backed him up against the trunk of the nearest tree. Her violet eyes bored deep into Dean’s green ones and tilted her head from side to side, studying him. Her heart pounded in her chest as her soul vibrated with familiarity for the hunter. 

She hummed softly before chuckling, “I don’t see what the big deal is with you.” Forcefully, she took hold of his jaw and turned his head from side to side. “What does she see in you? All I see is a tortured soul begging like a dog for another to belong to. You’re practically screaming for a soulmate, but too drowned in self-pity to find one.” 

“And all I see is a monstrous bitch who killed my friend,” Dean spat. 

Illiara smiled at his insult before wincing in pain. The poison from the dagger Hermes plunged into her was slowly entering her system, seeping deeper into her with every bite of Y/N’s heart. Illiara knew she was running out of time to do something about it, sensing it was filled with a pure darkness that only the Goddess Hecate could create. 

“Well, this bitch,” she sneered, “has got to go. Hopefully, the next time we meet,” she paused and hissed in pain, “will be a bit more eventful. After all, you crossed into the world of the Gods, and now you’ll find yourself entrapped in the web they love to weave.” 

“Next time we meet,” Dean gave her a cocky smile, “I’m going to have the juice to gank you. You and your whole roster.”    

“Is that so?” Illiara laughed. “Then I guess I should take something from you before you end my miserable existence.” 

Dean’s grin deepened. “Yeah? And what’s that? My soul’s been run through a few times already, have at it.” 

“No,” Illiara whispered. “Something a bit more,” she paused and clicked her tongue against her teeth, “intimate.” 

Before Dean could respond, he felt her lips on his in a searing kiss. Unable to pull back for the tight grip on his chin, Dean felt her hand rake through his hair, the nails grazing his skin. She used the moment of shock leaving Dean to deepen the kiss, leaning her whole body against his and slipping her tongue past his lips with a jolt of electricity that felt like it shot down his spine. It was–wrong, clearly, but something about it felt familiar in a way Dean couldn’t identify, and then it was over as soon as it had started as he came to his senses and found the strength to push her away. 

Illiara’s cackle echoed around them as Dean clenched his jaw. His chest heaved with anger, glaring at the goddess before him. 

“What? Too much tongue?” she taunted. 

Sam found himself able to move. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but had no doubts the sensation of chains around him must have been Illiara’s doing. In the heightened focus of the moment, it didn’t escape him that Herman seemed to smirk as he lay still.  

Shaking the impossibility out of his head, Sam grabbed his brother as the goddess disappeared. 

“You okay?” he asked Dean. 

Dean ran the back of his hand across his lips and spit at the ground. “Peachy.” 

“Come on,” Sam sighed. “Let’s get back to the bunker, and you can give me the dirty details.” 

Dean nodded as he glared at the spot the Goddess had been. His lips still tingled. It was hard enough being violated like that, but to not know why was already eating at him. Willing the possibility of any lasting damage away, he followed his brother back into the trees. 

Y/N pushed past the pain and placed Illiara back into the crystal cage in her mind. 

'I told you, ' Illiara said, the darkness from the poison already darkening the Goddess. 'One wrong point of view, one misdirection, and he thinks we are evil.'

“We did what was necessary but I can’t have you coming out again,” Y/N said, hissing as the wound healed. 

Her eyes trailed along the mirror until they reached the wound inflicted by Hermes. To Y/N, it became a jagged scar. Illiara‌ could see it for what it was; a dark line with black veins spiraling outward. 

‘Hecate knows her curses,’ she said, chuckling at their predicament. ‘But strangely enough, I feel absolutely fine.’ 

Y/N nodded absently as she drove towards a motel. There was no doubt in her mind that her outburst of power alerted Zeus to her location, and she didn’t have a lot of time to make a quick getaway. 

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Dean (Female Pairing Only) 

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This fic is now complete over on my website!

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BETWEEN THE LINES ⸻ dean winchester

content / dean winchester x fem!reader, hunter!reader, enemies to friends-lovers, bickering, teasing, dean being a lil perv, comfort, fluff, dean being vulnerable, 2.3k words

summary / you and Dean hated eachother, but what if a single night in a shared bed suddenly changes everything? and sudden confessions making you question the dynamics between you two more than ever..

THE IMAPALA’S HEADLIGHTS cut through the darkness as Dean pulled into the gravel lot of a rundown motel. You cross glanced at the flickering neon sign that read "Motel Haven" and couldn't help the sigh of exasperation that escaped your lips. It was the kind of place that reeked of stale smoke and regret. Typical Dean.

"Of all the motels, Dean," you muttered, climbing out of baby and slamming the door with more force than necessary.

Dean sauntered around the car, a smug grin plastered on his face. "You don't like my choice in accommodations, sweetheart?"

You shot him a glare sharp enough to cut through steel. "You know I hate when you call me that."

"Yeah, I know," he replied with a grin that made you want to slap it right off his face.

You gritted your teeth, fighting the urge to say something that would start an argument you didn't have time for. Ever since Bobby Singer had paired you two up for this series of hunts across the state, you had been counting down the days until you could go back to working solo. Of course both of you had vehemently disagreed, but Bobby wasn't one to take no for an answer. So here you were, chasing down reports of a rogue werewolf pack in a small town, stuck working together despite the mutual disdain.

To you Dean Winchester was infuriating, arrogant, and absolutely full of himself. And the worst part? He was damn good at what he did, which only made you dislike him more.

You quickly followed him into the motel office, where the bored-looking clerk barely acknowledged your presence. Dean asked for a room, and after a moment, the clerk handed him a single key.

"Only one room left," the man drawled, sounding as though he couldn't care less. "Double bed."

Dean suppressed a groan and glanced over at you, looking like you might actually punch someone.

Your patience, already wearing thin, snapped. "You've got to be kidding me," you said, voice laced with disbelief. "There's nothing else?"

"Nope," the clerk replied, his monotone voice sending a wave of irritation through you. "Take it or leave it."

Dean shrugged, as if this wasn't the worst news you’d heard all day. He grabbed the key from the counter and turned to you with that insufferable smirk. "Looks like we're bunking together, sweetheart."

You huffed, snatching your bag, and storming after him to the room. You couldn't believe this. The idea of sharing a room with Dean Winchester was bad enough, but a bed? This was some kind of sick joke.

When you two walked into the room, it was worse than you’d expected. The double bed took up most of the space, leaving little room for anything else. You could feel Dean's eyes on you as you both realized the inevitable.

Dean was the first to break the silence. "Guess we'll be getting cozy tonight," he said, trying to hide his amusement.

You shot him a withering glare. "You lay one finger on me, and I'll break it."

Dean just chuckled, tossing his bag onto the bed and kicking off his boots. "Relax, princess. I'll stay on my side."

You wanted to punch him. Instead, you grabbed your bag and made a beeline for the bathroom. Once inside, you shut the door behind your, not realizing that it snapped back just a little, leaving it slightly ajar.

You needed to change into something comfortable and try to ignore the fact that you were about to spend the night in the same bed as the most irritating man you’d ever met.

Dean, stretched out on the bed with his hands behind his head, couldn't help but glance toward the door when he heard you moving around.

Through the slit in the door, he caught a glimpse of you slipping out of your tight jeans and into a pair of loose-fitting pajama pants. Your shirt came off next, replaced by a simple tank top that hugged you in ways that made his breath catch. Dean's eyes lingered longer than he intended, drawn to the way your body moved with unconscious grace.

You were still trying to push down the anxiety that was beginning to bubble up inside you. It was just one night. You could handle it. You could handle anything. But you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

That's when you noticed him. But it wasn't until you turned fully and caught his eye through the crack in the door that Dean realized he'd been staring. His heart skipped a beat as he quickly averted his gaze, but it was too late. For a second, you froze, a mix of surprise and something you didn't want to name running through you. Then, annoyance took over.

"Really, Dean?" You said, voice cutting through the silence. You could see the way he flinched, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Didn't think you were that much of a pervert."

Dean's face turned an impressive shade of red, and he stammered out some half-baked excuse. "I—uh, I wasn't—"

"Save it," you interrupted, stepping out of the bathroom with a satisfied grin. "You're not as sneaky as you think, Winchester."

He looked so flustered, so unlike his usual cocky self. Dean groaned inwardly, cursing himself for getting caught. He could feel his face burning with embarrassment, something that rarely happened to him, and the fact that you were obviously enjoying this only made it worse.

The great Dean Winchester, brought down by a little harmless teasing.

"Oh, this is rich," you continued, unable to resist twisting the knife just a little. "Dean Winchester, the big bad hunter, getting all flustered over a little peek. Who knew you were so shy?"

Dean's jaw tightened, and you could tell he was struggling to regain his composure. "I wasn't flustered," he mumbled, his voice lacking its usual confidence. "Just surprised, that's all."

"Uh-huh," you replied, letting the moment stretch out just a little longer before finally dropping it. "Sure you were."

You climbed into bed beside him, still grinning, and Dean felt the mattress dip under your weight. The proximity was suddenly overwhelming. It wasn't that he hadn't noticed you before—he had.

You were tough, smart, and definitely attractive. But you were also infuriating, always pushing his buttons, always getting under his skin. So the fact that he was attracted to you only made things more complicated.

Once you layed down you realized that the bed was far too small for the distance you wanted to keep between you two, but you did your best to stay on your side. The room fell into an awkward silence, with both of you staring up at the ceiling, neither willing to be the first to speak. You tried to ignore the heat radiating from his side of the bed, but it was impossible not to notice.

As the minutes ticked by, you could feel sleep drifting further away, replaced by an uncomfortable awareness of just how close Dean was. It was strange, because despite how much he annoyed you, there was something about his presence that was... comforting? You weren’t sure what to make of it.

Unable to take the silence any longer, you sighed and let out the thoughts that had been circling your mind.

"Why do we do this?" You asked, your voice softer than he'd ever heard it.

Dean turned his head to look at you, his expression unreadable. "Do what?"

"This," you said, waving a hand around vaguely. "This life. Hunting. It's dangerous, it's lonely...it's hell, half the time. Why do we keep doing it?"

You haven’t meant to ask him that, hadn't even meant to bring it up, but now that the words were out, you couldn't take them back. And somehow, you found yourself genuinely wanting to know his answer.

Dean didn't answer right away. You could see the gears turning in his mind. It was a question he'd asked himself more times than he could count, but hearing it from you somehow made it feel heavier, like the answer actually mattered.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more thoughtful than you’d ever heard it. "Because it's all we know. Because we're good at it. And because if we don't, who will?"

You nodded, considering his words. "Yeah, I guess that's part of it. But sometimes I wonder...what if there's more to life than this? What if we're missing out on something better?"

His gaze softened, and he turned onto his side to face you. "You think about getting out?"

You met his eyes, feeling a pang of something deep in your chest. "Sometimes. But it's not like I have anywhere else to go. This life...it's all I've got."

Dean sighed, and you could tell that he understood exactly what you meant. He definitely knew that feeling all too well. The idea of leaving the life behind was appealing in theory, but the reality was much harder to face. Hunting had consumed him for so long that he didn't know who he was without it.

"It's not all bad," Dean said after a moment, trying to lighten the mood. "I mean, you've got me for company, right?"

You rolled your eyes, yet not being able to hold back the small smile that tugged at your lips. "Lucky me."

Both of you fell silent again, but this time it felt different, less tense. Dean could feel the connection between you, something deeper than the constant teasing and bickering that usually defined your relationship. It was like you were finally seeing each other, really seeing each other, for the first time.

Dean hesitated before he shifted. You felt the mattress dip as he moved closer, your body stiffening, not sure what to expect, but then you felt his hand brush against yours under the covers. He half-expected you to pull away, but you didn't. Then, almost instinctively, you turned your hand over and laced your fingers through his.

The gesture was simple, but it felt like so much more.

"Y/n," he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Yeah?" You whispered back, heart pounding in your chest.

"I know we drive each other crazy," he began, his words slow and deliberate. "But...you're a hell of a hunter. And you're tough. And smart. And...I respect the hell out of you, even if it doesn't always seem like it."

His words took you by surprise, and for a moment, your didn't know how to respond. But then you looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the sincerity in his eyes.

"I respect you too, Dean," you said quietly. "Even when you're being a cocky bitch sometimes."

He chuckled softly, and you could feel some of the tension in the room dissipate. "Fair enough."

You just lay there for a while longer, just holding hands, letting the quiet comfort of the moment wrap around you. You felt something shift between you two. It was subtle, but it was there—a connection you hadn't expected, a sense of understanding that went beyond the surface-level teasing and bickering. It was strange, undeniable and..real.

Eventually, you moved even closer, resting your head on his shoulder. Dean stiffened at first, but then he relaxed, letting himself enjoy the closeness. It wasn't often that he allowed anyone to see this side of him.

And for a moment it was strange how natural it felt to be this close to Dean, the man who had driven you insane since the day you two met. Yet, here you were, tangled up in a shared vulnerability that neither of you had ever shown before.

Your mind drifted back to the hunts you had been on together, the near misses, the arguments, the unspoken tension that always seemed to hang between you. It was easier to keep your walls up, to push each other's buttons instead of admitting that maybe, just maybe, there was something more beneath the surface.

Dean was really letting himself fall into the comfort of your touch, then turned his head slightly to look down at you. "You know," he began, his voice quivering lightly, "you're not alone, y/n. I know it feels like that sometimes. But you've got people who care about you. Bobby, me... Even if we don't always show it."

The sudden sincerity in his words caught you off guard, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You weren’t used to this, to hearing someone say they cared about you. It wasn't something that came with the territory in your line of work. But here was Dean, saying the words you hadn’t realized you needed to hear.

"Thanks," you whispered, voice thick with emotion. "That means a lot."

Both of you lay in silence, the weight of the words hanging in the air between you. You felt a strange sense of peace settle over you, a feeling you hadn't experienced in a long time. It wasn't just the comfort of being close to someone physically; it was the comfort of knowing that you weren’t as alone as she sometimes felt.

After a while, you shifted slightly, head still resting on Deans shoulder, and looked up at him. "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe we don't have to hate each other," you said, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckled softly, a sound that rumbled through his chest and against your cheek. "Maybe not."

It was a tentative truce, one built on shared experiences and a night of unexpected honesty. You weren’t sure what would happen after this, whether you’d go back to your usual banter and bickering or if something would change between the two of you.

But for now, in this moment, it didn’t matter.

As the night wore on, sleep finally started to creep in, and Dean felt himself drifting off, your warmth beside him comforting in a way he hadn't experienced in a long time. All wrapped up in each other, the distance that had once felt so insurmountable now gone. And as you closed your eyes, you couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, things were starting to change between you.

Maybe there was a future where you and Dean could be more than just partners.

I’m always down for some soft dean !!

feedback and requests are greatly welcomed !!

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @alluvthegurlz @angelicjackles @lailawinchesterr @nuemanfilms @nxptvn @hischrrypie @sammyluvr

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

boo! surprise bitches! i'm doing kinktober this year! finally doing it! bet you didn't see that one coming, did you hehe 🕸

there is a good mix of both short and long stories coming your way throughout this (and i will also still occasionally post other fics this month that aren't related to this). also, a handful of these fics are darker in nature, thought it was fitting for halloween, so remember to read the warnings, if there's something that's not for you then please, as always, be kind to yourself and don't read the story.

masterlist | join my taglist

day one | sore

stepbro!sirius black x cheerleader!reader + dubcon massage

day two | don't smile

steve rogers + throat fucking + size kink

day three | stuffed

devil!eddie munson & angel!steve harrington + tentecles + double penetration in one hole

day four | a little fashion show

best friend!stiles stilinski + lingerie

day five | stay still

peter parker + bondage

day six | hold up, let me record this

jj maybank + tittyfucking + sextape

day seven | the palace guards

guards!poly!marauders x princess!reader + secrets relationship

day eight | it’s practically like we’re down there with them

mob boss!bucky barnes + exhibitionism

day nine | keep that pretty mouth shut

tommy shelby + keep quiet quickie

day ten | I couldn’t find it in me to wake you

poe dameron + somno thigh fucking

day eleven | I just want you a little longer all to myself

matt murdock + secret office sex

day twelve | nothing more than a toy

rafe cameron + using you like a toy to masturbate with

day thirteen | I still got a few rounds left in me

boxer!steve rogers + bathtub sex

day fourteen | open your fucking mouth

dark!wild west cowboy!joel miller + gun kink

day fifteen | tiny

miguel o'hara x fairy!reader + extreme size difference

day sixteen | the wall between us

cult member!steve harrington + fem glory hole + breeding

day seventeen | be a rebel, be bad, stay here and cuddle with me

spencer reid + aftercare

day eighteen | pleasant pile of pillows

brother's best friend!james potter + pillow humping

day nineteen | ring ring

sam winchester x reader x bf!dean winchester + phone sex + cheating

day twenty | window

perv!neighbour!billy russo + voyeurism

day twenty-one | say yes

fiancé!bruce wayne + possessiveness

day twenty-two | i can think of something better than that

bucky barnes + anal

day twenty-three | double check

dark!professor!ben solo + power imbalance + manipulation

day twenty-four | maroon

vampire!remus lupin + biting + blood kink

day twenty-five | i want you

pirate captain!miguel o'hara + sex as payment

day twenty-six | teamwork

pro football team!avengers (bf!steve rogers, bucky barnes, pietro maximoff, clint barton, sam wilson, tony stark, thor odinson) + gangbang

day twenty-seven | my little flower

din djarin + fantasy au + cockwarming

day twenty-eight | hysteria

doctor!aleksander morozova x hysteria patient!reader + historical au + fuck machine

day twenty-nine | can't fight the moonlight

werewolf!bucky barnes x gf!reader + predator/prey + monsterfucking

day thirty | magical mimic

eddie munson x witch!reader + magical mutual masturbation

day thirty-one | you can’t put it in

stepbro!peter parker + halloween pussyjob

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Mornings with BF!Dean Winchester Headcanons

✨ Dean Winchester x GN!Reader ✨

*sighs in still doesn’t know what “skibidi” means* Minors do ¡NOT! interact with this post. Thanks.

A/N: hope these are still fun to read! Icons are by me! All interaction-especially commentary- are super appreciated!! Enjoy!

Content Warnings: it gets a little steamy in here- very much 18+, one use of French (yes that’s warning), Dean being Dean

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

-so first off, dean like pretty much doesn’t sleep

-like he’ll get six hours and feel like he overslept

-so he’ll either fall asleep with you and wake up far to early, or stay up so he can wake up at a normal time

-although sometimes his sleep deprivation catches up with him and he’ll sleep for like 10 hours and he’ll let you baby him and just be a sleepy little (big) guy for a couple days

-but thats a little rarer. He doesn’t mind laying around though, he’d watch paint dry so long as it was next to you

-now, boo bear gets morning wood. A lot. He’ll never wake you up over it- he wants you to get the sleep you need- but it’s a very common occurrence.

-even if you are awake at similar times, he never expects you to take care of it and is usually already half to the bathroom

-but that simply won’t do, and you’ll grab his arm and tell him you wanna take care of it, and who is he to say no??

-and so he’ll gently tease the blankets off of you and climb over you, those huge arms on either side of your head

-if you’re wearing clothes he’ll be kissing sweetly everywhere he exposes new skin

-and then he’ll just gently thrust into you, far enough that you’re full and then a little bit more, teasing your sweetest spot

-usually sex with him is rough (but good, too good), but instead of vying for or denying orgasms, in the mornings he just slowly coaxes one out of you

-he likes to see you babble, taking you apart until you’re a gooey precious mess

-his low voice morphs into a molasses-sweet drawl, praise dripping from those plush pink lips. He’ll kiss you everywhere, smiling down at you and wondering how and why he got so lucky

-and eventually he’ll get a release out of you and one for him, making his second favorite type of pie

-and he’ll roll over, snuggling you close, kissing you on the forehead

-and it’s all just so soft

-eventually you’ll both get up and shower, and sometimes he’ll coax a second (and maybe third) petit mort out of you :)

-he’s super clingy in the mornings so if it’s a slow morning where you two can share a shower he’s going to insist on washing your hair and massaging your tenseness away, and you’ll do the same because how could you not take opportunity to touch those freckled shoulders???

-you really only get out once the water gets cold or if Sam starts banging on the door

-the mornings where you also get time for breakfast are a real treat, cause in addition to being a sex god Dean is a god in the kitchen

-he’ll make you literally whatever you want, and his breakfast specialty is cinnamon rolls. Not the kind from the can (though those are still perfect) but literally from scratch, icing and all

-if you cook with him, he’s all over you. Pressed up against your ass as you chop whatever needs chopped, holding you close and pressing playful kisses everywhere. He’ll guide your hands sometimes, just so he can hold them. He loves to dance with you in the kitchen as well.

-he takes so much pride in your validation of his cooking so always tell him that he did a good job

-I mean seriously. Every “that’s so yummy!!” gets you the biggest, most radiant, sweetest smile from him.

-we’re talking eyes sparkling like a Disney princess

-he’s a bit of a slut for praise (in many aspects of his life, he can’t help it, the little sweet pea)

-and uh, if your expressions of enjoyment come across in any sexual way (ie moaning because of how good it is) there’s a good chance that he’ll takeopportunity to eat you out. Keep that in mind.

-but usually mornings that can be at home are just soft, snuggly, comfortable occurrences

-and then after you eat you’ll sit and snuggle on the couch with one of his many blankets, watch a show or something because for once you don’t have any where to be

-he’ll either hold you close or just straight up put you on his lap, not wanting to waste a second

-and on those mornings, neither of you would have it any other way

That’s it for now! Feel free to use my ask box if you have ideas for headcanons or one shots!

Xx

[wraithlafitte]

bitchin'

pairing: dean winchester x reader

CONTENT: violence (hunting), SMUT, only one bed~ enemies to lovers (kinda), unprotected p in v (encase before you embrace), hate sex, Dean calls reader "princess" mockingly, manhandling, slapping, spanking, big dick!Dean has all the audacity, dirty talk, degradation, choking, cum eating, brat taming, edging, overstimulation, squirting

word count: 4.7k

To say you were unhappy to be working with Dean Winchester would be putting it lightly. A massive understatement, in fact. But, as luck would have it, you needed backup on a vamp case; and when you called Bobby Singer for help, it turned out that Dean was the only hunter nearby.

Your jaw set uncomfortably as you dialed his number and held the phone to your ear. Asking for help from anyone was hard, but from this man? Practically your mortal enemy? A feeling of shame, or maybe embarrassment, crept into your stomach as you listened to the phone ring.

He's probably just watching it ring, you thought cynically. Who's to say he would pick up at all? Maybe he won't, you hoped.

There was a laundry list of reasons why Dean was the last person you'd want to work with on a case. He was reckless, had no respect for plans, and tended to go in guns blazing without regard for his own life, which meant that you would constantly be saving his ass. And boy, was he a pain in yours.

The cherry on top of the Dean Winchester disaster cake was that he hated your guts. You never really figured out why, but you assumed it was his misogynistic tendency to be completely contrary to any woman he met who didn't fall all over him. God forbid a woman doesn't care about his rugged good looks or roguish bravery!

When he finally picked up, you could practically hear the smirk in his voice, dripping with self-righteousness. "Well, well. What do you want?"

You decided it would be best to cut to the chase and just get it over with. "I'm working a case in Nevada," you said calmly. He would not get you riled up. "Vegas. There's a vamp nest, been snatching homeless people. Tunnel dwellers," you added. "Not that it matters. People are people, vamps are vamps."

"What are you tellin' me for?" Dean asked gruffly. He was gonna make you say it. Of fucking course he was, because he just had to hold it over your head.

"Need backup," you said curtly. "There's at least five of them."

"So what you're sayin' is...." The smugness in his voice was unmistakeable.

"I need your help, you dick."

"Oh do you now."

You huffed, already fed up with him. "Bobby says you're the only hunter he knows nearby. Said you're in Flagstaff."

"Maybe I am," he said vaguely. "Bobby should know not to tell you anything about where I am or recommend me as reinforcements for you."

"He didn't want to, but I made him. Are you coming or not?" you said sharply.

I'll be there by nightfall. Don't wait up," he said teasingly and hung up, leaving you to listen to the tone, steaming.

Why does he have to make everything so difficult?

Rough pounding on the door of your motel room startled you up from your chair at midnight. Dean wasn't even in the room yet, and he was already tormenting you. You went to the door and jerked it open, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could feel the headache coming on.

"Honey, I'm home," Dean said wickedly. He pushed past you into the room, dropping his duffel bags in the middle of the floor. He dropped into the chair you had just vacated and looked up at you with a shit-eating grin.

"Don't make this any harder than it has to be," you warned him, eyes narrowing.

"Hey, I'm just excited to kill some vamps," he said, jabbing a finger towards you.

"Give it up. We both know you would rather be anywhere else."

"True," he conceded. "But let me just bask in the moment real quick."

You roll your eyes and return to your task, packing up your stuff. "Don't get too comfortable. We can't stay here. I was followed earlier."

"Perfect," Dean said sarcastically. "Of course you were."

You turn on him. "It can happen to anyone."

"Sure," he mocked. "So what's the plan, genius?"

Your face hardened. "We take the fight to them."

"Say no more."

The vampire's nest was in an abandoned warehouse (real original) that was a few streets away from one of the tunnels that the homeless had set up camp in. Chain link fence, corrugated metal, broken windows, the whole deal. And of course Dean wouldn't wait to make a game plan, sliding open a side door like nothing bad was waiting to jump him. In a vampire nest. At night.

All you could do was follow him, machete at the ready, and hope that the scuffing of his boots on the concrete floor wouldn't alert any vampires to your presence.

Dean ducked down, holding a fist in the air. You hurried behind him and crouched behind a shelf just in time to miss a patrolling vampire rounding the corner. Without missing a beat, Dean jumped out behind it and chopped it at the neck soundlessly. The body fell to the floor. As much as you hated to admit it, he was good.

You crept in the direction the fang had come from, Dean hot on your heels. He was so close you could hear his leather jacket creaking, smell his cologne, feel him practically breathing down your neck. You shot him a glare over your shoulder, then suddenly you hear voices. You stopped abruptly in your tracks, causing Dean to bump into you. You elbowed him and gave him a look.

Peeking around the doorframe, you saw what appeared to be the vamps' main hangout room. And there were a lot more than five of them, lounging around the walls, circling victims that were hung by their wrists from a beam.

"We can take them," Dean whispered in your ear.

You looked at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?" you hissed back. You tried to count the dark shapes in the next room. "There's at least ten in there. There's only two of us."

"We can do it." Without waiting for a reply, Dean busted down the door and started swinging. You had no choice but to follow as the vampires started coming out of their startled stupor and attacking.

Dean cut down two of them easily, their heads rolling on the floor before they knew what hit them. The rest, however, had time to react.

One of the vampires rushed you, just managing to avoid your blade as you swung it. She snarled and leapt towards you. You slashed her across the chest and she howled, clutching her shirt. You took the opportunity and decapitated her.

Someone grabbed you from behind, claw-like nails scratching your neck as it was forced to the side, baring your skin. You stabbed behind you, blade finding purchase, and used the distraction to cut off the fang's head.

Another vamp rushed you from the front. You swung your blade out in defense, but he just grabbed it and ripped it from your hand. Then, as if they could smell your defenselessness, you were suddenly swarmed, vampires clawing at your skin, your clothes, pulling your hair. Several hard punches landed to your gut and your face and the wind was knocked out of you as you fell to the floor, smacking the side of your head into the concrete. You yelped in pain and shock.

A boot pressed into the side of your neck and your vision was suddenly obscured by a heavy-set vampire bearing down on you, grinning. "Not so tough now without your little sword," he sneered, fangs descending. His mouth was smeared with blood and you could smell the tang of iron on his breath. You struggled to breathe as the pressure on your neck increased, your vision getting spotty.

Great, this is how I die....

As if in the distance, you heard Dean shout. The looming face of the vamp was promptly detached from its body, hitting the floor by your head. His body fell on top of yours, his gross bloody neck stump right in your view. The boot left your neck and charged in the direction of Dean's voice.

You struggled to free yourself from beneath the former vamp, ears ringing from your near-suffocation. You could hear the ensuing scuffle, all grunts and wet slices and heavy footfalls, but you had no idea who was winning.

Then, it was silent.

You held your breath instinctively, listening to a lone pair of footsteps approaching you. You found yourself realizing for the first time that you hoped Dean was coming. Better than the alternative.

Sure enough, Dean's hunt-beaten face appeared above you, screwed up with effort as he pushed the large vamp's body off of you. You sat up quickly, surveying the carnage, slapping away the extended helping hand. The shock of your near death experience wore off quickly, but the adrenaline from the fight did not, so your energy turned towards Dean.

"What the fuck, Dean?" you yelled, rising to your feet, wincing from the pain in your sides.

"What do you mean what the fuck?" he returned angrily. "I just saved your goddamn life!"

"After you endangered it!" you shoved him, scowling furiously. "Ten to two are not good odds! We could have fucking died! I almost did!"

"Hazards of the job, sweetheart!"

"There's hazards, and then there's suicide," you replied, fuming.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Don't have to thank me."

"I won't." You shoved him out of your way and made for the door. "Don't you ever fucking do that again."

"Not so fast, princess," Dean called after you. "Hunt's not over."

You froze in your tracks. "What."

"I didn't get all of 'em." You whirled around to face Dean, who was looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

Your voice was dangerously quiet. "What do you mean you didn't get all of them?"

He made an attempt at a self-confident grin. "They saw me ganking their buddies like nobody's business, turned tail and ran. I was more concerned about saving your life than to chase."

You smirked tauntingly. "Oh, you cared about my life?"

Dean just shrugged. "Couldn't just leave you there."

"Whatever." You started walking to the entrance again. "Since you let some get away, I say we get a night's sleep. They'll probably be expecting us to come after them, so they won't hunt again tonight. We can pick up the trail in the morning."

"What do you mean you only have one room left?" Dean asked angrily, slamming his hands down on the motel counter.

The clerk looked at him blankly. "Just what I said."

You were at the cheapest motel you could find in the city that was built on tourism. You and Dean were both short on cash, so it seemed like the best option. It was this or take shelter with the junkies in the tunnels.

"I'm not spending the night in the same room as her!"

You hit his shoulder. "Hey!"

"Like you don't feel the same," Dean said exasperatedly, digging out his wallet. "Next cheapest is still too expensive. I'm basically broke," he whined, rifling through his meager collection of bills.

"What happened to all your credit cards, Mr. Fraud?" you sneered.

Dean glared at you. You glared back. After a few moments, the clerk cleared his throat.

"So, do you want the room or not?"

You dropped your bags just inside the door of the room. "You're fucking kidding me."

Dean pushed past you. "What- oh. Oh my goddd." He ran his hand down his face tiredly.

Staring you in the face was the decidedly lumpy surface of a double bed. One. That fucking clerk could've warned you.

You and Dean slowly looked at each other, then you made a mad dash to claim the bed, shoving each other out of the way, kicking, tackling, until you both lay tangled on the floor, still not in the bed. You had his arm pinned behind his back, but he was pinning you to the floor with his weight.

You jerked on his arm, panting, and he grunted painfully, digging his knee into your side.

"Say.. uncle," you gritted out.

"You first!" Dean rasped.

"No!"

You laid there for a few more seconds, then, almost as if it was painful, Dean asked, "Should we- call it a draw?"

You rolled your eyes and released him. He rolled off of you, getting to his feet. He didn't help you up, of course.

"I'm not sleeping on the floor," he said spitefully.

"Well, neither am I." Your eyes narrowed.

You laid on the bed stiffly, positioned all the way at the edge of the mattress, as far away from Dean as possible. He was doing the same, and the blanket was pulled taut between you as you wordlessly battled over it.

You were steaming. You should have known that everything would go to shit if you called on him. He completely ruined what should have been a one-hour job, endangering your life and letting a few vamps go. He did, technically, save your life though. You were grateful, but you wouldn't tell him that in a million years.

Adrenaline from the hunt and your constant fighting with Dean coursed through your veins, keeping every sense on high alert. Every tug of the sheets from Dean lit a fire under your skin. His weight behind you on the bed filled you with a painful awareness of how touch-starved you truly were. As much as you tried to suppress it, tension began building in your core.

You shifted uncomfortably, squeezing your thighs together. "Ugh," you let out before you could stop yourself.

"Shut up," Dean grumbled through the darkness.

The sound of his voice, rough with tiredness, intensified how extremely horny you felt. You felt your underwear getting damp in spite of your hate for the man.

"God dammit," you said frustratedly, sitting up and swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

"What?" Dean said, throwing the covers back and sitting up too. "Why can't you just let me fucking sleep?"

"Nothing," you snapped, taking a swig from your water bottle. Hydrating would calm you down, surely.

"Yeah, right," he snapped back. "What the fuck is wrong?"

"I'm really fucking horny, Christ!" you blurt, whirling on him.

"If I fuck you, will you stop bitchin'?" Dean demanded, fire and a deadly seriousness in his eyes.

You opened and closed your mouth, stunned.

He just smirked at you. "Is that what it takes to shut you up?"

You stared at him. "Are you serious?"

"You want me so bad, huh." He moved across the bed and settled right behind you, his face in your neck, inches away from your own.

"Shut up," you say, flustered, still trying to keep some semblance of control. But you couldn't deny the arousal pooling in your gut.

"Say the word," Dean said smoothly, breath fanning over your exposed shoulder.

"Fuck," you whispered, cursing what you're about to do. You turned your head and smashed your lips to his.

Dean responded immediately, pulling you backwards and into his lap. He bit at your lips, forcing his tongue inside your mouth. You made an indignant sound, battling him for dominance, teeth clashing in a messy display of pure desire.

Your lips only parted to rip off each other's shirts. You dug your fingernails into Dean's bare shoulders as hard as you could, trying to elicit some kind of reaction from him, which came in the form of a deep groan into your mouth. He broke away, panting, and flung you onto your back on the mattress.

Leering down at you, he placed himself between your legs. "That's how you wanna play, huh princess?"

He yanked your leg up by the knee and slapped the back of your thigh. An involuntary moan escaped your mouth, and Dean chuckled darkly. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."

"Just shut up and fuck me," you whined, hitting his side with your foot.

"Ah-ah," he tutted. "Bad girls don't get what they want."

You sat up and came nose to nose with him. "If you think for one second that I am going to sit here and play submissive for you-"

Dean laced his fingers through the back of your hair and sharply tugged your head back. You moaned in response. A smile slowly grew over his face and he let go abruptly and shoved you back down. Your back barely hit the mattress before he was yanking off your sleep shorts and underwear in one go, tossing them to the far reaches of the room. You gasped as the cool air from the room hit your core, driving home the fact that you were now completely exposed to him.

"Aw, already so wet for me," Dean jeered, running a finger up your slit roughly. You flinched away from the sudden contact, heat spreading to your face.

"Don't flatter yourself," you gasped as he shoved a finger inside you, curling it vigorously, relishing the wet sounds your pussy produced.

Dean palmed himself through his pajama pants, groaning. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, he added a second finger inside you, scissoring you open. At least he has the decency to prepare me, you thought.

He yanked his fingers out of you, giving your pussy a quick slap, and you whined at the sudden empty feeling.

"Don't whine," Dean said roughly, getting off the bed and kicking off his pants and boxers. You looked down, unable to help yourself.

You saw where he got all his confidence from. He was big. You practically quivered with anticipation. You loved a good stretch, and you liked it rough, and this was about to be both.

"Like what you see?" Dean mocked, shaking his cock.

"Looks like maybe your confidence isn't completely unwarranted," you admitted dryly. You could feel your combative spirit giving way to lust, but you weren't giving up that easily.

He winked, grabbed your ankles and jerked you to the edge of the bed, your thighs around his waist, your hair fanned out on the blanket behind your head. Dean took hold of your calves and pressed your knees up by your face, leaning over you and pinning you down with his weight again. Only this time, it was way hotter.

"Gonna be good for me?" he asked, voice dripping with mock sweetness.

"In your fucking dreams," you spat.

In one fluid motion, he backed off of you, grabbed you by the waist, and spun you onto your stomach. You squeaked as a heavy hand landed on your ass, much harder than he hit before.

You used your feet, barely touching the floor, to push yourself back towards him, hoping he would get the point and just fuck you already without you having to ask him again.

"So fucking needy," he murmured in your ear. "Use your words, princess."

"Fuck you," you moaned, feeling his cock jerk against your leg.

"Mmm, that's not right," Dean warned, fingers digging into your hips.

You grit your teeth. "Fuck me."

Dean splayed his fingers over your ass cheeks, spreading you open for him, and thrust into you roughly, filling you in one go.

You gasped, feeling his cock throb inside you as your pussy complained against the intrusion and desperately tried to adjust to his size. He groaned as you clenched around him, pulling out slowly and slamming back in.

"Dean," you gasped out. "Don't be such a fucking tease."

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want, princess," Dean growled, his thrusts becoming faster. "You asked for this."

"Technically- you offered," you corrected, eyes screwing shut at the pleasure building inside you with each thrust.

"God, shut- up," Dean griped, punctuating his words with a deep thrust that hit just right, eliciting an embarrassingly loud moan from you.

He just grunted, hips colliding against you, now just chasing his own high. You pressed your face into the bed, clutching the blanket with both fists, fortifying yourself against Dean's relentless pace. His fingers pressed deeply into your hips, carving out a place for him, letting you know you wouldn't be coming away from this encounter unbruised.

"God, you're so fucking tight," Dean rasped, slapping your ass. You moaned in response, unable to think of a witty retort. "Bet it's been a long time since you were fucked, huh?"

When you didn't reply, he slapped your ass again, on the other side, sending fireworks through your core.

"Bet that's why you're so desperate for me," he groaned. "Haven't gotten laid in a while. Bet that's why you're such a bitch, too," he added snarkily.

"Oh, fuck off," you mumbled into the mattress.

Dean pulled out, much to your chagrin, turning you onto your back again. "If you want," he said, eyes glimmering with mischief.

You pouted and whined, hooking your feet around his waist and trying to pull him back. You were rewarded with a sharp slap to your pussy. You cried out from the stimulation.

"Don't whine," he growled, pushing into you again on the last word.

"Sorry," you whispered in spite of yourself, gripping onto his arms as he cages you in with his body.

"What was that?" Dean said, grinning wickedly and thrusting into you sharply.

"Fuck-" you moaned instead, refusing to cooperate.

He wraps his hand around your throat loosely, putting slight pressure just under your jaw. Your eyes widened as he slowly increased the pressure, jeering down at you, still slamming into you at an incredible pace. Your body started to become overwhelmed with all the sensory input and your core tightened.

You knew Dean felt it, because he grimaced. "Gonna come, you little slut?" he taunted, reaching down with his free hand to rub harshly at your clit. A low whine released from the back of your throat.

His grip tightened around your neck to see your reaction. You gasped, straining to get a full breath in, your pussy clenching hard around his cock.

"Such a fucking slut that you're gonna come from being choked out," Dean said through gritted teeth, his thrusts becoming sloppy.

"Fuck- Dean," you choked out, both hands wrapped around his wrist. He eased up on the pressure some (he didn't want to kill you) and your hands moved desperately up his arm, gripping him tightly.

Dean was getting close, you could tell, but the question remained: would he come before you? And if he did, would he still take care of you? Somehow you doubted it. The self-absorbed jackass was probably going to cum inside you and fall asleep, like almost every other man you'd slept with.

Suddenly Dean lurched forward, shoving his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, breathing heavily in your ear. You clenched in surprise (and also because a man getting desperate was one of the hottest things on the planet).

Dean groaned deeply in response and bit down on your shoulder, hard. You cried out, half from pain and half from the surprising pleasure it sent roaring through you, causing your cunt to squeeze down on him tightly. He practically whimpered, detaching from your skin and pulling out, pumping himself a few times before spilling onto your stomach with a moan.

He looked down at the mess he'd made of you, dragging his fingers through his cum. Then he brought those fingers up to your mouth and pressed them against your lips. "Open."

You scowled at him, once again determined to be contrary.

Dean glared back. "Open, or you don't get to come," he said harshly, forcing his fingers between your lips and teeth.

So he was planning to take care of you. Your neediness returned in full force, and you opened your mouth to allow him to shove his fingers deep into your mouth. You gagged as his fingertips hit the back of your throat, the taste of his cum filling your mouth. He pressed down on your tongue and you dutifully sucked on his fingers as he smirked down at the sight.

"Good little slut," Dean said nastily, obviously feeling proud of himself. He started to pull his fingers out and you closed your teeth, scraping his skin as he did. He slapped your cheek lazily once his hand was free. "Swallow it."

You glared, but did as you were told, sticking out your tongue to prove it.

Dean grinned. "Ready for your reward, princess?"

You moaned needily, throwing your head back and bucking your hips up towards him.

"Such a fucking whore," he chastised, bringing his hand to your clit and stroking around it lazily. A pang of arousal shot through you as you quickly approached the edge again. All thoughts of defiance went out the window as you grinded against his hand.

"Please," you whimpered, squirming under his touch.

"Since you asked so nicely," Dean mocked. He stuffed your pussy with three fingers at once, thrusting and curling them inside you. "Fuckin' dripping, princess."

He brought his other hand to your clit, thumbing it in figure eights in time with his fingers. You gasped as your core tightened. His fingers were bringing you so close to the brink and just keeping you there, never increasing the pressure just enough to push you over.

"Fuuuck," you moaned, panting. "Please, Dean! I need- I need-"

"You need what?" he teased. He twisted his fingers up to your g-spot, simultaneously ceasing his movements on your clit to press down on it hard.

"Oh, God!" you cried out, almost hyperventilating. The feeling of your orgasm building up was almost too much to bear. A dry sob wracked your body.

Dean nipped at your chest, gazing up at your contorted face with eyes so innocent looking you could've sworn, for a moment, that this was not a man you hated with your entire being, who was not currently doing the most sinful things to you with his hands.

You whimpered pathetically. "Please," you said in a small voice. "I need to come so bad." Your face flushed with shame as you finally admit what he's done to you, both with your words and body.

"All you had to do was ask," Dean said, sickly sweet. His hands sparked into motion again, redoubling their efforts. You let out a strangled scream as you were brought right back to the precipice, only this time, surely, he's going to let you?

It was like a pot boiling over, overwhelming heat spreading from your core out through your stomach, making your legs shake and your abs tighten. You made another strangled, desperate noise as you grinded down on his hand.

"That's it, princess, fuck yourself on my fingers," Dean goaded.

You struggled to catch your breath, eyes wide. Your face was hot and wet, and you realized numbly that tears were streaming down your face, running into your hair. He started to take his hands away, but your hands chased them, seizing them and bringing them back to your core.

Dean seemed surprised, but more than willing to fuck you past the point of no return. "Fuck, you just can't get enough, huh," he said, sounding mildly impressed. Your body shook as he all but stilled his fingers inside you, just rubbing your clit slowly until it became too much to bear and you pushed him off.

You laid there panting quietly, your body shivering from the aftershocks of one of the most intense orgasms you'd had in a while. For once, it seemed like Dean didn't know what to say.

You closed your eyes for a moment, then suddenly felt his hand on your clit again, rubbing vigorously. Your eyes flew open and you looked down to see Dean's face set in determination. You clutched at his wrist, trying weakly to get him away, knees trying to close around him, but it didn't take long for you to cum again with a shriek, heels digging into the mattress to push yourself away. Your cunt pulsed around nothing, and you felt a gush of arousal leave you. Dean looked delighted.

"I fucking knew it," he said triumphantly, holding up his hand to survey the mess.

"What?" you asked feebly as another shiver ran through your body.

"Knew you'd be so touch-starved I could get you to squirt," Dean explained smugly. He licked some of your arousal off his hand.

You threw your head back onto the bed exasperatedly. "God, I hate you."

"Could've fooled me," he returned, displaying his hand to you and smirking.

dividers once again by @cafekitsune and @saradika-graphics

[zepskies]

So I just finished watching The Princess Bride after reading so many of your lovely responses to my new one-shot, "As You Wish." (Thank you for that. It's truly making my day! 💖)

I just realized I didn't share my song inspo for that fic. "Storybook Love," the iconic song in the ending credits:

[godjustkys]

| mndi 18+

| What a perv.

please give requests.

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Pairing: Top!dom!AMAB!reader x bottom!sub!Dean Winchester.

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Genre: smut.

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Word count: 2,357

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Warning(s): slight feminisation, use of pet names, reader being a cocky asshole (just a lil bit), unprotected sex, reader has clothes on/character does not, bratty Dean >:)

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Request: "can i req perv dean winchester x top male reader? possibly where dean’s jerking off to something that correlates to the reader (like a picture/boxers/whatever works really), but ends up getting caught? he’d usually use his glib tongue to get away, but poor princess is so embarrassed he’s caught jerking off to a guy."

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A/n: i think about dean a lot, putting my headcanons to use here. i need him so badly,,

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You had just gotten back from a grocery trip, putting the bags on the kitchen table. “Fuckin' hell, it's quiet.” You murmured to yourself, your hands on your hips.

Sam was out. Somewhere. Said he had business to attend to. He took Cas with him, so the only one that should be home right now was Dean. At first you thought you'd come home to Dean sitting in the kitchen and drinking, or simply watching the TV.

Neither of those were the case. You slowly walked to Dean's room, thinking to yourself. Just as you reached the door to his bedroom, you opened it immediately, figuring it'd be pointless to knock at this point.

“Dean, will y- woah—” you were in the doorway, standing still, your hand on the door handle.

Dean scrambled to sit up, getting a blanket to cover himself up. “What the hell! Knock, you moron!” He yelled at you, his facial expression clearly offended. Dean swallowed hard, eyebrows furrowed.

“Jesus Christ, okay, sorry-” you thought it was funny, how you caught him jerking off. You had a grin on your face, taking in the surroundings for a little while as you took a small step back, planning to close the door and leave Dean alone. Your smile dropped in a matter of seconds when you noticed your shirt — your dirty, bloody shirt that was supposed to be in the laundry,, in the grasp of Dean's hand.

“S'that..” you inquired slowly, squinting your eyes. “Is that my shirt?” You tilted your head to the side, your shoulders slumping. Why would Dean have your shirt in the first place?

“wh—” he looked down at his hand, practically baffled. Once Dean realized you had seen the piece of clothing, his grip tightened. “What? N— no, no that's mine.” He tried hiding it behind his back slowly.

“Dean, that's my shirt.” You pointed out, your facial expression going blank. “Were you-” you paused mid sentence, trying to take in the new information. “Were you jerking off to me?” Your tone had gotten a tad bit more serious.

“Huh?” He turned his head to look at you, wondering if he heard your question right. “No! No way! What in the world are you talking about?” His tone was defensive as he sat up more straight.

“Wait, scratch that. You were jerking off to a guy?” The look on your face was priceless, absolutely stunned. You knew you caught him, he was in a pinch. He wouldn't get out of this easily. “Since when are you so accepting of your attraction to men?”

“Hold on, does that mean you find me attractive? Am I attractive to you, Dean?” You fixed up your shirt, trying your best to look presentable. “Am I hot enough to get you off? Hm?” That same grin crept back on your face. Being friends with Dean was one thing, annoying and teasing the absolute shit out of him was another. You loved every minute of it.

Dean's gaze shifted to the floor, the feeling of heat cursing through him. Was he getting embarrassed? No, he had to come up with something to derail this conversation.

“You're being fucking ridiculous, [Name], get the hell out.” Dean made eye contact with you, trying to keep his poker face up.

“Awh, is my poor princess embarrassed to be caught jerking off to a guy?” You cooed, walking into the room and closing the door behind you. “You know damn well that it is my shirt.” You spoke, making your way towards Dean. Before the other could respond, you reached around and snatched the shirt.

You held it up, taking a proper look. “Yep,” You nodded with an affirming tone. “It is, in fact, my shirt.” Dean looked away from you, eyebrows furrowed as he huffed, clearly annoyed or even embarrassed. “Fuck off, out of my room, now.” He commanded, his voice ever-so slightly shaky.

“Ay, what the hell? I caught you jerking off to me, and now you're trynna kick me out?” You tilted your head to the side, throwing the shirt onto the ground. “Come on, I gotta know if you're in love with me or not,” you pushed further, your tone firm.

Dean scoffed as he laid back down with a small thud, the blanket still covering his lower half. He brought his arm up to his face, covering his eyes. “No. M'not. Get out,” Even though Dean denied it, his tone didn't seem that confident or convincing.

“You want me to get out and leave my shirt so you can continue jerking off to me? Orrr,, perhaps, there's a chance you want me to stay and get the real deal?” You didn't give it up, how could you? Dean Winchester, an absolute ladies man, trying to get off to his friend, a guy.

“What are you talking about??” He asked in an almost offended tone, taking his arm off of his face to look at you.

-----------------------------

Deep breaths and groans filled the silent room, your hands gripping his firm thighs as you slowly pushed your cock in. Both of Dean's legs were over your shoulders. “Shit.. t'feels weird,” He breathed out, his left hand resting atop of yours, right hand freely on the bed itself.

“Yeah, well, now you know how a woman feels when you fuck her ass.” You said in a taunting tone, not taking your eyes away from your lower half. The sight of your cock slowly disappearing in his entrance - god.

Dean muttered something out that was followed by a grunt, his hand gripping the sheets underneath the two of you a little. “Jesus Chr— ist..” His voice faltered mid-word, eyelids fluttering shut. “Relax, Dean, relax. You're doin' good,” You encouraged him in a gentle manner, rubbing circles on his thighs with your thumbs to soothe him - calm him down.

“I am- relaxed.” He grumbled out, letting out a small wince. “Wouldn't say it feels like that,” You leaned down a bit, pushing on Dean's legs. Soon enough, you fully bottomed out. “Need a moment?” You asked, eyes flickering all over Dean's torso. “You take me for a wimp?” He said breathily, opening his eyes to make eye contact with you.

Once you looked into Dean's eyes, you got so lost. He looked breathtaking like this, the look in his eyes - full of lust, neediness and want, the glossiness of them. His slightly furrowed eyebrows, clenched jaw, his hand on yours,, the hand gripping the sheets.. so perfect. All of him was perfect. “Fuckin' hell..” You muttered out, moving your left hand to Dean's cock, very slowly jerking him off.

“Mff-..mm.” Soft noises escaped his mouth, followed by a sigh of content. Your touch stimulated him to no end. “You never got to cum, right? I interrupted you,” You spoke in a delighted tone, a smirk plastered on your face. “Why don't we finish off what you started, huh?” Your hand's pace had quickened with your sentence as Dean tilted his head back, his blinking getting more frequent and excessive.

“Fuckkkk..” He said, his voice quiet and low. His breath hitched in his throat for a short moment as you started slowly thrusting in and out. Agonizingly slowly. “Did you grab my shirt from the laundry?” You questioned suddenly, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes. “Cause it was dirty, you know, I'm curious.” You added, a grin flashing across your face.

“Mmh— nhgggh!—” Dean breathed out simple whines and whimpers. You were not sure if he even heard you, your thrusting getting more rhythmic and deeper. It was all new to the other - he'd usually do the fucking. “Hey Dean-oooo, I asked you a question baby,” You cooed, thumb rubbing over the slit of his dick, putting pressure on it. “Son of a bitch— shit!” He pressed his head back into the pillow, hand gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white. Dean had a hard time not squeezing your hand as well.

You moved your hand, intertwining your fingers together as you pushed his arm, making his forearm rest beside his head, pressing his hand into the mattress a bit as you propped yourself up. “Breathe Dean, jeez,” You said with a small breathless scoff, your other hand pumping his cock continuously. “Sh— shut up,, I hate y..you, hhgg!-” Dean managed to speak, his sentence truly holding no malice or hostility behind his tone of voice, moving his head to the side and letting out a hiss at the feeling of your cock inside him. “Do you?” The grin never left your face. “Not only did I catch you jerking off to me, or my clothes rather, but you're letting me fuck you as well. That speaks volumes to me baby,” You shifted on your knees, finding a completely new angle. You pushed in, reaching deep. With that, Dean choked out a gasp, his eyes shooting open as he arched his back off of the bed slightly.

Almost immediately Dean let go of the sheets, bringing his hand to his mouth, covering it. He let out a couple muffled moans, really starting to sweat. Your thrusting pace quickened. It was harsh and deep. “You feelin' shy? We're alone, no one's gonna hear you, Dean.” You mumbled, looking down at your hand jerking him off. His cock twitched, leaking precum. You let out a groan at the feeling of Dean clenching around you.

At this point Dean was seeing stars behind his eyes, the feeling was entirely new to him yet it felt so good. Too good, maybe. He whimpered against his hand, his thighs tensing as they shuddered. You clicked your tongue in annoyance, not exactly directed towards him. You removed your hand from his cock and grasped his wrist, removing his own hand from his mouth so he wouldn't muffle his moans anymore. You pinned it next to his head on the mattress, almost the same as his other hand.

Of course Dean tried resisting being pinned, but you did all of that while fucking him mercilessly and relentlessly. “oh- ah! fucckk—” He bit down on his bottom lip to try and suppress his moaning. You suddenly hit his prostate with a harsh thrust, earning a loud whine from Dean, his one hand clenching into a fist, the other squeezing yours. “Nnh! Shit! Yes yes yes, just like that-” he rambled out, his chest rising and falling with each breath that he took, his lips parted.

His legs started trembling over your shoulders, toes curling. You let a soft groan leave your lips, leaning your body down again, Dean's knees inches away from his chest. He seemed more flexible than you thought. “Yeah? Feels good, doesn't it?” You said in a confident tone, letting out a soft sigh of content, your thrusts ever so slightly losing rhythm.

“Ghhh— pleaseee, pleasepleaseplease,” He whined, his muscles tensed visibly as his body spasmed, shaking his head. You abused his prostate, most likely bruised it as well. Dean squirmed underneath you, his arms aching - couldn't put his hands where he wanted with you pinning him to the bed. His cock throbbed as it was lightly pressed between the both of your abdomens. “w- I'm close! shit! i'm so close!-”

“Go on, cum for me, you've been so good,” You praised him in a softer voice, trying to keep up the same fast pace just to push Dean over the edge. His eyes shut tight, pushing his arms up in an attempt to free himself. As you noticed this, you let go of both of his hands and he almost instinctively wrapped them around your neck, pulling you in as close as possible. Without any further warning, Dean came, making a mess on his own stomach. He choked out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, panting afterwards, eyebrows only stitching together further.

“There we go, good boy,” You murmured, gasping softly as Dean's walls tightened around you. He was starting to get a bit overstimulated with the way you continued pounding into him after he came. One hand of Dean's gripped your shirt, the other holding onto the back of your neck. You felt your own climax nearing.

“Mmhhh,” You hummed out, placing open-mouthed kisses on Dean's neck as a way to distract yourself a little. You ended up only chasing your own orgasm, your cock twitching inside Dean's hole. He shuddered, fingers tangling in your hair, slightly pulling on the locks. “There- there, right there-” Dean moaned out, his voice hoarse and raspy, trying to ride down his own orgasm.

Your hips stuttered, slowly breaking the pace. You were close, almost ready to pull out. Dean felt slight emptiness near his prostate due to you not pushing back in and he whined. “N— no, no, inside, come inside.” Dean rasped out, holding you close to him. You raised an eyebrow at this, nonetheless complying with the other's request. “Fuck Dean, you're kinky,” you joked, pushing your cock all the way in.

His legs continued to shake, burying his head in the crook of your neck. “g-god,” Dean managed to speak through the string of moans and whimpers he let out. With one harsh final thrust and a groan, you came inside Dean, the warm liquid pooling inside him. He let out a shaky sigh, his grip on you loosening. You dropped your head down and leaned your forehead on Dean's shoulder, relaxing. “This fulfilled your expectations of me?” you asked, clearly out of breath. “Or do you wanna go again?” You whispered, your hands moving to remove Dean's legs from your shoulders, lowering them and making them wrap around your waist.

Dean paused as you lifted your head back up again, looking down at him. He made eye contact with you, his eyes ever so slightly teary. “You think you got enough stamina for another round?” He mocked you, his panting very audible, voice quieter than usual. “You're a little shit,” You chuckled, shifting your position to a sitting one. “You're getting what you asked for,” with a tight grip on his hips, you started moving again.

[impalanna]

Title: Foggy Windows Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Warnings: Mentions of violence, swearing, p in v, smut, dirty talk, SO MUCH SMUT, name calling, rough sex, Dean using you Summary: You and Dean go on a hunt together. You two don't even get to the location where the hunt is without having to pull over and, you know. Authors' notes: For @shadysoulangel :) This is based off of an imagine that I did (click here to access) I hope you guys enjoy! ;) Word Count: 2,837k

Dean rubbed his eyes, not ready to go out on this hunt but wanting to get out of the bunker for a little while. He was pent up, in every since of the word. You were asleep beside him, which made him look down at you and smile. He loved waking up before you did. It meant he could look at how peaceful you are, curled up beside him. He adored you.

You always knew when eyes were on you, even when you were sleeping. It always woke you up when someone was watching you. You stirred awake, meeting Dean's eyes. "You watching me sleep, perv?" You giggled at him, getting on your knees to lean up and kiss him gently. "What? You gonna watch me shower, too?" You asked him in the sexiest tone you could muster up.

"Damn right I might, sweetheart." He smirked at you, eyeing you in his old T-shirt and your underwear. He is so goddamn hot. You thought to yourself as you went into the bathroom and closed the door, taking off your clothes.

You slipped into the shower and began washing your body, the thoughts of how tense Dean seemed when he was hunting taking over your mind. You wanted to get him to relax, to breathe for just a minute, but he isn't going to listen to you if you ask him to take care of himself. So you had an idea. You would take care of him, in the only way he'd let you.

You knew it was summer and it was hot, so you could get away with wearing your shortest shorts without making it seem like you were trying to get his attention. You smiled to yourself as you moisturized and then went to your closet to pick out your top. You knew just the one. It was black, which was Dean's favorite color on you, with a low cut neck and it was cropped. Perfect for staying comfy and perfect for getting him to focus on how bad he knows he wants you.

You walk out of the bathroom, out of the bedroom, down the hallway and into the kitchen where Sam and Dean were eating their cereal and drinking their coffee. He saw you, and choked on his corn flakes. Sam gave him a confused puppy dog head tilt and then turned around to see you, then rolled his eyes. "Can you guys get a room?"

You smirked to yourself as you went to the cabinet to get a cup. There were cups already out, but you loved how cute they looked turned upside down beside the coffee maker so you never messed with them.

"Morning." Sam said in a yawn, his head in a daze due to the lack of sleep. "No breakfast?"

"You know I never eat breakfast, Sam." You said in a happy tone. You were telling the full truth when you said that.

"Oh yeah… guess I forgot." He said slowly again, watching you make your coffee to your liking. "Hey, we've got a hunt but I'm going to see a friend, you think we can take it on with Dean? It's about a day's drive from here."

"Sure, that's fine." You smiled at Sam, "Who's your friend?"

"Uh, no one, just, uh -"

"He's gonna go get laid." Dean cut him off. Sam shot a look to Dean that would kill if it could. "What? She's no prude." Dean said in defense of himself.

"Oh hell yeah, Sam! You go! We'll take this hunt, we need some time alone anyways." You looked at Dean and said, "let me go grab some stuff to take on the road." And left the two brothers with their thoughts.

"Mhm, yeah sure, princess." Dean didn't think you could hear him but you did, and goddamn did it put fire in your veins to hear it.

Damn you loved it when he called you princess. He knew that, too.

You hopped into Baby as you took your bag off your back. You knew exactly how you were going to get him to break for you. He was going to fuck you like he hasn't fucked in years.

Dean gets into the Impala, his eyes trailing your whole body as he sits down. He was primarily focused on your chest. You were playing on your phone but you knew exactly what he was doing, and you knew what you were doing, too.

"So what kinda music are we listenin' to?" Dean asked about a minute into the drive. His voice was, if you had to put it in a word, dark. You didn't say anything but you pulled out a tape he made you a few years ago. He labeled it "foggy Windows" because when you guys would have sex in the Impala, the glass would fog up.

He smirked at this. "What are you tryin' to do, sweetheart?"

You didn't say anything again as you slid the tape into the player and let it play. You smirked as "She brings me love" came on. You leaned close to Dean, facing him with a huge ass smile on your face.

"You need it, sweetheart? You baitin' me?" His voice was low as he slid his right hand up your leg. "I wouldn't be mad."

"And what if I am?" You asked with a smirk. "Maybe I'm just that horny for you."

The tires squealed as he came to a hard stop. "Say it again. Tell me how much you need me to fuck you." His voice was shaky as he spoke, his eyes wondering from your lips to your chest.

"Dean I need it so bad, baby. I need you to fuck me." Your face was going red under your makeup, as it did you thanked yourself for putting it on this morning.

Dean pulls Baby into the closest empty parking lot.

"Good girl. You're so good for me, doing what I tell you to do." He smirks and shuts the engine off. You could tell how hard he was just by looking at him. His cheeks flushed, his jeans a little too tight, and he had an adorable smirk on his face.

"I can be even better." You said slowly. You had no idea where your confidence was coming from but you were just glad it was there for you when you needed it.

"Get in the back." Dean demanded you, "Don't open the door to get back there. I want you to climb over my seat. Just don't damage my headliner." He said sternly.

"Yes, sir." You said as you climbed over his seat, making sure you purposefully put your ass in his face as you did so, which made Dean slap your ass as hard as he could. "Good girl."

"You're so good for me, princess." You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

Dean opened the door and climbed on top of you, closing the door behind him. He immediately looks down at your chest. "Goddamn, baby, I know why you wore this shirt." He said, grinding against your leg.

You smirk and bite your lip, "Yeah? You like it, daddy?" You ask as you squeeze your boobs between your arms, making them almost pop out of your shirt.

"Fuck, (y/n), you have no idea." He says as he starts kneeling them through your shirt. " I've been wanting this for a while." He says, leaning down to suck on your neck.

You gasp at the feeling of him all over you like this. 'Since I've been loving you' by Led Zeppelin starts playing in the background, making you moan. You knew that when this song was playing, Dean was going to fuck you good. it wasn't because you two were "together" or whatever. He really did love you, with everything he had. He told you one time on a hunt, a hunt that almost killed you. And he knew damn well that you loved him with everything you have too.

"Dean, please, baby. I need it so bad. Need to bounce on you." You wanted to ride him so badly.

"Oh, fuck, sweetheart, You want to bounce on my cock, baby? You want to make me cum for you?" He moaned in your ear, damn near panting because of how bad he needed you.

"Yes, Dean, please." You beg him, hoping he'd give into you. But he didn't.

"Sweetheart, you know I love to please you, right?" He asked breathlessly.

"Yeah baby I do, why?"

"Because I'm not going to give into you. I need to let off some steam. I need to have you the way I want you right now. I need you to be a good little slut for me." He was so fucking needy, and fuck, it turned you on.

You couldn't say anything to this, but you nodded your head. At this he slid off your shorts and threw them into the front seat.

"Baby, no underwear?" He asked, it coming out as a praise rather than a question.

"Yeah baby, all for you." You couldn't help but sound desperate. You needed him, bad.

"God, you're such a good little slut for me." He growls into your ear, his hands roaming around your body until he meets your clit.

"Fuck, fuck yeah Dean I'm your slut." You moan as he rubs circles on your clit, almost pushing you off the edge.

"You're so wet for me too baby, must really want me." He grunts as he sucks on your neck, close to your earlobe.

Dean couldn't hold back anymore. He was so hard his jeans were hurting him. He slides his jeans off and pulls his shirt over his head and he strokes his cock a few times while looking down at you. "So fuckin' gorgeous, (y/n)." He moans as he strokes himself, precum leaking from his tip.

Dean positions himself at your entrance. He looks up at you, and you know how good he's about to fuck you. He slams into you, and you pull him down onto you. Your name falling off his lips like sin. "(y/n), you're so fuckin' tight for me, baby. Feels so damn good."

You loved it when he'd talk to you like this. It would send you over the edge. You dug your nails into the skin on his back as he slammed into you, not giving you any time at all to adjust to his huge size. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you let him rail you, moaning into his ear, "you fuck me so good, this pussy is all yours, Dean."

"I know she is." Dean said, as skin was hitting skin, the sounds of this filling up the Impala. The windows fogging even though it's a billion degrees outside, which Dean was a saint to leave the ac on because of this.

The way he would refer to your pussy as "she" instead of you, always made you feel, weird, but good. You loved it when he said this. Part of you thought it was because you liked the way he didn't look at you as just a sex outlet. Yeah he loved your sex but he loved so much more about you and valued so much more of you than that. And even after all these years, after all the sex you guys have had, you're still amazed that he thought this way.

You clenched around him when he said this to you, your legs wrapped around his waist as he rode you out. "You better wait and come for me, sweetheart. I'll tell you when you can come." He purrs into your ear,

"Yes, sir." You moan in response. He slows down and gets off of you, changing things up and doing exactly what he's been fantasizing about doing to you.

Get on your stomach, baby." He demands, but there was always a tinge of gentleness in his voice when he took control like this; unless he was mad at you.

You nodded and got on your stomach.

"Good girl. Now bring your knees to your chest, princess." This was hard but it wasn't the first time he's made you do this. "Yes, daddy." You responded.

"Good fucking girl. Now, arch that back for me and spread those sexy ass legs." He moans. "Oh and put your hands behind your back so I can hold onto them." He smirks.

"You do as your told, after bringing your legs to your chest you arched your back and spread your legs. Dean puts a thumb into your asshole and starts to pound into you again, not letting you adjust this time either.

"Ohhh fuck, such a good slut. You're such a good little slut for me, aren't you princess?" He asks breathlessly, his thumb in your ass making your head spin. "You like it when I fill you up like this? Both your holes filled up by me, (y/n)?" He was so fucking close and it was obvious.

"Yes, daddy I LOVE it when you fill me up like this. You fuck this tight little pussy so good, I'm your little slut." You are screaming at this point, his cock slamming into you so hard you almost forgot where you were. The only thing that was on your mind right now was Dean.

Dean pulled out quickly and sat down on the leather seats, looking at you and panting. You looked so disappointed it was adorable. "Did you cum?" You asked, hoping he didn't yet. You liked to ride him when he and you both came, and he knew this.

"Bounce on me. Get your fine ass over here and ride daddy's cock, you slut." Dean demanded, his eyes dark with lust.

You didn't hesitate. You took your shirt off that you've been wearing this whole time and you hopped on him, sinking down on him. "Fuck yeah, so tight for me and I've been using you for over an hour now, baby. Your pussy is perfect." You smirked at this and started riding him, rolling your hips and moaning his name.

"You're perfect, sweetheart, All of you is perfect. Every last inch of you, (y/n)." He moaned as you rolled your hips faster. You took your bra off and threw it in the front seat. You then grabbed the top of the bench seat behind Dean and started to bounce on him, your tits making a slapping sound on your skin every time they'd come back down to reunite with the soft skin under them.

Dean was losing his mind. Your body moving like this on him, how tight you are, the sounds you were making, the way you looked riding him, he was lost in you. He was in a daze. You leaned forward to kiss him gently. You were so close and he was too. He grabbed your ass and started fucking up into you. "You like that, sweet girl? You like it when I grab your ass like this and pound you?" He moaned into your ear as he took control yet again.

"Yes daddy I do, please fuck me harder, I'm gonna cum." You moaned loudly as he pounded you relentlessly.

"So fuckin' good for me, slut. You better come for me, bitch. Cum all over my cock, (y/n). I wanna feel you squeeze me." He demands behind clenched teeth.

You didn't hold back, you let out moan after moan, begging him to fill you up, telling him his cock made you feel like a perfect little slut. “Mmmmmm, Dean you fuck me so good.” You moan as you’re looking at him, his eyes locked on yours and a sexy fucking smirk playing on his face.

Dean pulled you off him and threw you onto the seat. He was careful to make sure your head wasn’t going to hit anything before he threw you. He quickly got between your legs. "Wanna watch your tits bounce like this while I fuck you, sweetheart." His movements were powerful and sloppy. He was moaning your name, pinching your nipples, and fucking you; hard. Harder than he ever has.

You scream his name, holding onto the edge of the seat for support. You are bouncing and moaning, your breasts moving all over the place as his cock pounds into your dripping wet cunt.

"So pretty like this baby." He moans and grabs your neck gently. He moans your name, "Fuck I'm gonna cum for you, sweetheart. Gonna fill up your perfect little pussy." He grunts loudly, his grip on your neck tighter now. He cums deep inside of you, his dick all the way into you, reaching your g-spot. "Ohhhh yeah baby, fuck yeah that's good, Fuck I'm cumin'" He moans as he spills deep inside of you, his thrusts slowing down as he empties himself.

"I love you, baby." You say breathlessly.

Dean leans down and kisses you, soft and slow. "And I can't live without you, baby." He says, panting.

[flamencodiva]

Underworld's Princess Chapter 5

Description: While the Greek God’s and Goddesses hold divine power, there is also a responsibility that comes with that very power. What happens when Illiara, or Y/N as she likes to call herself, decides that those very responsibilities aren’t worth the power? Prepare for the wild adventure of Y/N finding who she truly is, fighting against her blood and her love, as she attempts to break free from the cursed bonds placed upon her and to finally live free.  

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!GreekGoddess!Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: Language, Blood, Violence, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn

Word Count:4492

Beta: None for This chapter

Book Cover on Main Masterlist by: @talesmaniac89 and Dividers by @firefly-graphics Aesthetic Created by: Me 

Underworld’s Princess Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean awoke the next day, seemingly more relaxed than the day before. Looking down at his sticky hands, he saw the dried cum on him and tilted his head in confusion. Sitting up, Dean tried to remember what had happened the night before. All he could think of was the fantasy he gave himself when thinking about Y/N. 

“Dean,” Sam called from across the hallway, “You up?” 

“Yeah,” Dean called back, looking around for a change of clothes. “What’s up?” 

“I found us a case,” his brother declared. 

Inside the car, Dean couldn’t help but still think about his dream. He hadn’t had a wet dream since he had dreamed of Brandy and her gorgeous tits when he was fourteen. But he still had a feeling that there was more to it than just a wet dream. It was as though Dean could feel every kiss, every touch in the fantasy. Icking his lips, Dean could almost make out the faint taste of Y/N’s tangy juices. 

“You okay there, Dean?” Sam asked as he raised an eyebrow at his brother. 

Dean cleared his throat, “yeah. Fine.” 

“Right,” Sam drawled, “that’s why it sounds like you’re eating a double bacon cheeseburger with everything on it. You’re moaning over there and adjusting yourself in your seat.” 

“Am not,” Dean scoffed, “just--” 

“What? Just what, Dean?” Sam huffed in annoyance. “Can you focus on driving us to our destination and try not to have any dirty fantasies?” 

“What’s the case again?” Dean grumbled as he shifted in his seat, left arm leaning against the open window as he steered Baby with his right. 

“Slew of missing persons and at least one found dead with spider marks on them. Died because of the venom,” Sam explained. 

“From a spider bite?” Dean said, confused at the report from the coroner. 

“It wasn’t just one,” Sam clarified, “It was over a thousand.” 

“Woah,” Dean let out as he pressed his foot a bit more on the gas pedal. “Then let’s see what we got.” 

Y/N sighed as she entered the dark cave. Of course, Arachne would have been sent as a message. The mother of spiders was still angry that her daughter was killed by hunters. Then again, Sirzil was turning humans into human spiders. That was going to get her caught and killed. But then again, Sirzil never listened to the warnings. 

“Arachne!” Y/N called deep into the warehouse. Her voice echoed off the walls. “I’m here, Arachne,” she continued, “you didn’t have to kill to get my attention.” 

‘She has no idea who she is dealing with,’ Illiara huffed inside Y/N’s head. ‘Can you let me out now?’ she whined. ‘I promise I will keep my temper in check. After all, you are the level headed one, and you can--’ 

“No,” Y/N dismissed her. “I am not going to take any chances.”

‘Fine,’ Illiara growled, ‘you will regret keeping me in a cage, Y/N.’ 

Y/N rolled her eyes at her other half. Everything was fine. Y/N was under the radar, and for the most part, even with her trips to Bacchanals, she was confident that she could try and focus on sending souls back to the Underworld without any trouble. At least, until the mother of spiders left her a message. 

“Daughter of the ruler of the underworld,” a voice hissed, “I did not think you would be this naive to come.” 

“I hope we can speak amicably, Arachne,” Y/N called. “Please, I beseech you, stay out of this war. If you continue, I cannot guarantee the safety of your children.” 

“You dare!” she hissed. “I lost my child to those vile hunters you have allied yourself with. You, a Goddess of Olympus, running around with the mortals. The spell you cast on yourself has made you weak, Illiara.” 

“That is not my name!” Y/N yelled, the building shaking slightly. 

The spider-human hybrid came out of the shadows. Their eight legs made tapping sounds as they moved closer to the young broken Goddess. The bottom half of the creature is a spider, shiny and black, reminding Y/N of a black widow. The upper half was a slender woman, grey skin and pasty arms like twigs and nails long and sharp. They had an angular face with eyes as black as demons but with a red iris. Arachne’s head was full of stringy black hair long-reaching down her back. 

“As broken as you are,” she hummed, “you still hold much power. I wonder, what would happen if I were to siphon it?” the mother of arachnids chuckled. 

Holding out her hand, Y/N sighed as an extended staff appeared in her hands. It was a staff gifted to her by her father and mother. Her staff’s very tip was u shaped with a small orb that floated in the middle and just under the U, a small line darting across it. The symbol for her mother and father’s unions. A daughter of spring and the lord of the dead. Life and Death united as one. 

“I warn you, Arachne,” Y/N called, “stand down. If Athena hears word--” 

“Athena does not control me, child,” the creator hissed. “My orders come from the mother of your betrothed, Aphrodite. She is not happy that you denied her son, and she is seeking revenge.” 

“The Goddess of Love should remember what she represents,” Y/N growled. 

“She cares not about her worshipers. She barely has any,” Arachne scoffed, “She cares about her sons and how they are seen in the Parthenon of the Gods. Olympus has decreed your union, and yet you deny it.” 

“He is not my fate,” Y/N whispered, looking up into the red and black eyes of Arachne. “I have yet to know what kind of Goddess I am, but I know that Deimos is not my fate. The God of Fear is not meant for me.” 

“Then we are at an impasse,” Arachne breathed as she circled the young broken Goddess. “You must fight for your life Y/N,” Arachne said. “And your other half, the Goddess you have locked up, the longer you are split, the more painful things will be. You cannot survive denying who you are.” 

“Why are you--” 

Before Y/N could ask, Arachne took a swipe at her. The young Goddess used her staff to shield herself, wondering what was going on. It seemed as though Archne was conflicted, but then again, this was fate. If they were meant to fight, it meant the universe was in motion. 

“I’m sorry, young one,” Arachne breathed. “But I cannot disobey the order of the Gods.” 

Y/N held her staff firm as Arachne began her attack. The creature took swipes with her long nails as Y/N twirled her long weapon. The two females battling ferociously, with Y/N dodging and flipping out of the way. Artemis’s training had been a blessing as Y/N continued to stay agile. The young Goddess slid under Arachne to reach her backside only to find that she was caught in Arachne’s web. 

“This won’t kill you, but it will cause you pain and suffering,” the creature let out. “My advice to you, young one, is to make sure you know your antidotes. For this that I give you, it will be something you have never felt before. A mix of my venom and the blood of the sons and daughters of Eve. It seems that Zeus has taken it upon himself to use all the resources available, even if that includes using the monsters of God himself.” 

Y/N gasped in pain as Arachne pulled a dagger from behind her back. The blade gave off a black glow as liquid dripped from it. 

“Arachne, please,” Y/N whispered as she looked into the red and black eyes of the Queen of Spiders. 

“I’m sorry, daughter of the Underworld,” she let out, “on this, I cannot yield.” 

Illiara was still locked up tight, the power she tried to emit doing no damage to the cage she was being held in. All she could do was watch as Y/N tried to keep Illiara locked in while trying to get out. The flames of the Underworld dimming in Y/N’s hand, her power not concentrated enough. 

‘Let me out! Y/N let me out!’ the dark side of Y/N screamed. ‘If you let me take control--’ 

“Then Zeus will find us,” Y/N reasoned. “I’m sure everything mother taught us can help us with whatever this is.” 

‘I say we torch the bitch,’ Illiara growled. ‘I will find a way out of here, Y/N, and when I do, you will be the one locked in the cage while I destroy everything that has come after us. My wrath will be felt. Nothing will live to tell the tale!’

“Illiara,” Y/N breathed as Arachne circled her, “you know as well as I that Death only leads to emptiness. Thanatos has told us that plenty of times.” 

‘And yet, while you hold on to life,’ Illiara growled, ‘I can bring death.’ 

“As long as I’m alive, you will never be set free. Not with all the anger that you hold, anger from a time when we wanted to part with our true self.” Y/N let out, trying to light her fire, but to no avail. 

‘You’re weak without me,’ Illiara sang. ‘Just one small crack Y/N. Let me--’ 

“No!” Y/N growled, her eyes glowing with her anger. The flame she produced burned the webbing around her hands. “Well, looks like I can get angry. Just don’t need to hold on to it like you do.” 

Arachne let out a small chuckle as she looked at Y/N. 

“Interesting,” she muttered. “The more you fight with yourself, the harder it will be to put you back together.” 

“Stuff it,” Y/N said, her hair changing to a light lavender that seemed white. 

With her staff back in her hand, Y/N resumed her fight with Arachne. The creature took swipes at Y/N as Y/N continued to fight her. Y/N could feel a rush of power flow through her, but something wasn’t right. It felt like a giant storm that was chaotic and messy. Her power strikes kept missing Arachne. It only seemed to frustrate Y/N more as she dodged the knife’s blade. 

Both fighters seemed to be in their own world, concentrating on defeating the other. Never hearing the doors to the warehouse open and the sound of boots stomping onto the cemented floor. As the footsteps echoed louder, their owners stopped in the middle of the hallway. 

Sam and Dean had found the trail and followed it. Both brothers froze as they could hear the commotion of fighting in the distance. 

“You hear that?” Sam asked as he held his gun firm and slowly made his way towards the sound of battle. 

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, “Looks like someone else got here first.” 

He tilted his head towards the sound and took the lead. Dean held out his hand as they reached a set of double doors, bringing a finger to his lips to make sure they stayed quiet. As they pushed through, what Dean and Sam saw shocked them. There, they saw Y/N battling a giant spider. Well, a spider with the top half of a human. 

“That must be Arachne,” Sam breathed. 

“I thought we torched her? Didn’t we? Back when you got your soul back and--” Dean began. 

“I don’t know,” Sam let out. “I guess this is the Arachne, and the other one was a fake?” 

“Well, looks like Y/N’s gonna need our help,” Dean said as he looked around and shuddered. “There are spiders everywhere,” he pointed out. 

“Who’s Y/N?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrow at his brother. 

Dean pointed at Y/N as she battled Arachne, “That’s Y/N. I thought you knew that? Didn’t I tell you?” 

“No, you didn’t.” 

“Well, I know her name. I was sure Jody called her name on the last hunt we were in.” 

Dean walked away from Sam keeping his body crouched and hiding behind a column near the two fighters. 

Sam nodded, accepting Dean’s explanation reaching into the duffle bag he was holding on to. Dean smirked when his brother took out two canisters with nozzles at the end. Sam packed their flamethrowers. The best way to kill any insect was to torch them. 

“You take the left side,” Dean muttered when Sam approached him, trying to stay as quiet as possible. “We torch the bitch and her eight-legged spawn, grab Y/N and get the hell out of dodge.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Sam replied, moving away from his brother. 

Dean walked to his position. His eyes never leave Y/N and her opponent. He noticed the staff in her possession, taking note of its peculiar tip. The strange symbol called to him. Dean was impressed by the way she could wield it. As she was jabbing at Arachne with it, Dean couldn’t help but admire how strong she looked. She seemed to have a glow around her, almost like a goddess. 

“You won’t escape, Y/N,” Arachne cackled. “You are a strong warrior, trained by the best,” she complimented, “but fate always wins.” 

Arachne used her children to overpower Y/N, knocking her staff out of her hands. The mother of spiders lifted her arm up high above her head before plunging it down, piercing Y/N’s abdomen, making the young huntress scream in pain. 

“Hey!” Dean bellowed, grabbing Arachne’s attention. 

“Hunters!” she screeched. “You’re going to pay for killing my daughter. Right after I kill this one!” 

“I don’t think so bitch,” Dean huffed, pulling the trigger on his flamethrower at the same time Sam did. 

Both hunters continued to aim their flames at the creature as she screamed in agony before dropping to the ground. Dean rushed to Y/N and lifted her in his arms. The way she groaned in pain had him sigh in relief. She was still alive, but the dagger remained in the wound, keeping her from bleeding out. 

Y/N could feel the poison slowly begin to spread. Her skin felt hot, and her blood seemed to be pumping as fast as her heart was beating. The magic around Illiara’s cage continued to hold, but the dark Goddess smirked as she saw them begin to discolor. Y/N’s magic hold would be weakened. 

“Stay with us, Y/N,” Dean said. 

His voice sounded far away in her head. Everything around her was hazy and dim. She felt the movement around her, could tell that Dean was screaming, but she wasn’t sure what he was saying. It was as if they were underwater, everything muffled and wavy. 

Dean had helped Sam search for Y/N’s keys. Sam would drive her car while Dean drove her in the Impala back to the motel. 

“Car,” she called out, “journal.” 

Dean looked at the rearview mirror as she spoke. 

“Just stay calm, Y/N,” he tried to soothe her. “We’ll get everything you need once we make it to the hotel, okay.” 

Y/N hissed in pain, the poison working slowly, working its way through her body. Once they were at the motel, the brothers moved quickly. Inside, Dean laid her gently on his bed, ready to pull the blade out once Sam was prepared to stitch her up. They carefully removed her top, Dean noticing the tattoo on her left breast. It was a symbol that seemed both familiar and strange at the same time. It almost looked like the staff she was holding to fight off the monster. With a nod of his head, Sam signaled to Dean he was ready. 

Making sure Y/N had something to bite down on, Dean removed the dagger, ready for her when she tried to shoot up. 

“Shhh,” he soothed. “It’s okay, we gotcha.” 

“Journal,” Y/N let out after spitting the bit in her mouth out. “Antidote. Poison.” 

“Just hold on, Y/N,” Dean pleaded, “Let Sammy stitch ya up.” 

“Once we close your wound, I’ll look for the antidote, promise,” Sam said, continuing his work.  

Y/N groaned as Sam began stitching her up. The poison that began to slowly flow into her veins felt like fire. Arachne’s poisoned blade was true to its word. Dean continued to hold her hand, his other one brushing the hairs from her sweating forehead. He could tell that whatever poison was on the blade was already working fast. Dean could only hope that Sam could figure out the antidote with Y/N’s things. He and his brother only ever encountered the Greek Gods once, but this was a different level of interaction. 

“Okay, all done,” Sam said as he finished off the last stitch. “I know it’s hard to concentrate, but where is the journal, Y/N?” 

“Bag,” she muttered, her lips dry and cracked, “back--” she paused to lick her lips, “back seat.” 

Sam nodded and made his way out of the motel room. Dean busied himself with cleaning her wound and getting her water. He could see the poison spreading from her injury. Black veins spread like webs along her skin.

“Here,” he muttered, taking a washcloth and dipping it into the bowl of water he had set on the nightstand. “Figured I could keep you hydrated this way.” 

  Y/N whimpered as the wet cloth hit her chapped lips, the small trickle of water that went into her mouth soothing and refreshing. As she tried to hold on to her strength, the world around her seemed to shift. No longer was she in the motel, but now she was back home, in the Underworld. The river of lost souls gave off its eerie green light as it led to her father’s palace in the middle. From there, it branched off and split into two. Behind the palace were two entrances, the left led to Tartarus, and the right led to the Elysian Fields. 

“Το λουλούδι της λεβάντας μου,” (My Lavender Flower) Lord Hades said as he turned to look at his youngest daughter, “Πρέπει να παλέψεις.” (You must fight)

“Δεν μπορώ. Δεν είμαι αρκετά δυνατός,” (I can't. I'm not strong enough.) Y/N cried, tears streaming down her face as she tried to reach for him only to be met with a barrier. 

“Πρέπει αν θέλεις να ��ήσεις, Λεβάντα μου Λουλούδι,” (You must if you want to live, my Lavender Flower.) Her father said as he gazed into her eyes. “You cannot keep denying who you are! You are a Goddess of the Greek world.” 

Out, in reality, Dean watched as Y/N began speaking in Greek. He couldn’t understand what she was saying until she let out another whimper. 

“Πατέρας,” she moaned, “Πατέρα, σε παρακαλώ θέλω να γυρίσω σπίτι. Αν πεθάνω θέλω να πεθάνω στο σπίτ.” (Father, Father please if I die I want to die at home.) 

“Father?” Dean recognized the word, having a similar sound in Latin to Padre, Pateras. “Poison must be giving her fever dreams.” 

Dean continued to keep her skin cool with the washcloth, being extra careful around her wound. The hunter frowned every time she called out in Greek. 

“I found it!” Sam called out as he rushed in. “I also found a whole box of ingredients. Dean, she has things that are hard to come by. Half of these we don’t have back in the Bunker.” 

“What do you mean, Sammy?” Dean asked as he pulled away from Y/N for just a moment. 

“Gorgon Scales, Chimera saliva and blood, Cyclops boils, loath tips from Eros,” Sam read off, “and you also have saliva from all three of Cerberus’s heads. Not to mention bits of his fur and nail shavings.” Sam’s eyes widened, “Siren scales as in scales from the mermaid version of Sirens.” 

“Where did she get all this?” Dean wondered, looking back to her as she gasped for breath. 

“Πατέρας!” (Father!) she screamed out before shaking her head, “where am I?” 

“Motel,” Dean answered, “We got your ingredients and your journal. You got stabbed with a poison dagger of some kind.” 

“Yeah,” Y/N hissed as she stumbled over towards the table, “mixture of the blood of all the creatures of purgatory and Arachne’s own venom. Seems it’s a deadly combo.” 

“You should be resting,” Dean said, trying to get her to go back to bed. 

“And you need to let me help Sam find the antidote,” Y/N countered, “I can find it faster if I read the journal. It’s my mother’s notes on remedies for any poison. You should also see Honey from the bees in the Elysian fields, water from the river of lost souls, and--” 

“Golden thread from the golden fleece,” Sam interrupted. “Y/N, where did you get all this?” 

“Blackmarket,” was all she said as she opened her journal. 

She was hiding something. Dean could feel it. He shot Sam a look, both brothers acknowledging that there was more to Y/N than she was letting on. 

“You know, you never really told us how you got into hunting,” Dean said as he watched her grab a shirt from her bag. 

“And I’m not going to,” Y/N sighed, “I don’t have time to--” she gasped and held on to her side as she felt her wound burn. 

“Okay, okay,” Sam held up his hands, trying to calm his brother and Y/N down. “Let’s find the antidote and make sure Y/N gets better.” 

“How do you know my name? I never gave it to you,” she asked, looking at them. 

“Arachne called you Y/N,” Sam explained. “So, it’s nice to meet you. Although the circumstances aren’t all that great.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes and looked at Dean, “well, there you go, hotshot, you finally got my name.” 

“Yeah, that spider chick threw it around,” Dean let out, clearing his throat. 

He would never admit that he got her name from a sex dream, and Sam said it, and her admission only confirmed that something weird was going on between them. 

“You said your family got attacked by a Gorgon. I mean, I can assume you come from a line of hunters,” Sam deduced. 

“I make it out of here alive,” she groaned, sitting on a chair by the table and opening the journal, “I’ll tell you everything about me and why I started hunting.” 

“Okay, We’ll bite,” Dean said, taking the seat to her side, “so let’s find this antidote.” 

Y/N poured over her notes. Notes from her mother in the Elysian fields and all the remedies she knew. Sam watched as she began grabbing different jars and looking at the markings. 

“So, According to my mother who venerated the Goddess Persephone,” she sighed. It hurt having to lie about her family like that. But she had no choice, “We have, Aster petals, crush that in the mortar along with the fang from Echidna, that one was hard to find,” Y/Nmuttered as she read out the ingredients and pointed them out to Sam. 

“Are we sure this is going to work?” Dean asked as he looked over her shoulder. 

The words in the journal were all Greek. None of the words seemed familiar to Dean, and he couldn’t really read it. Something he told himself he had to fix. 

“Snake from a gorgon's head,” she continued to read off. 

Sam had a look of disgust as he picked up the jar. It contained a slew of different snakes, all preserved in some sort of liquid. When he opened it, he turned his head away at the foul smell. Dean watched as Sam crushed it in with the other ingredients. 

“Pollen from the Crocus flower, Hellebore, Hyacinth, mix with the saliva of all three of Cerberus’s heads to make a paste.” 

“Okay,” Sam crushed the ingredients in the mortar, watching as it all came together into a paste. The colors mixed together to make a pale grey. Once he felt it was combined well, Sam looked at Y/N. 

“Anything else?” he asked. 

“You’re going to mix these ingredients. I need to drink. Aside from the paste, I gotta make enough Tonic to counteract any side effects.” 

Dean watched her work, all the while using the laptop to look up a few Greek words. He made a mental note to try and use Rosetta Stone, or maybe even an app on his phone to help him out. After all, he was sure Y/N was still hiding things. 

“I’ll put the paste on,” Dean offered. “Sam can mix your tonic, and we can at least get a head start.” 

Y/N nodded, lifting up her shirt and hissing when the paste hit her skin. She could feel the effects of the paste seeping into the wound. The heat from the poison cooling down. She started to feel better, but she knew there was still more to do. She gave Sam a list of ingredients, Blood from Scylla and Charybdis, the scales from a Siren, water from the River of Lost Souls, and Nectar from the Narcissus plant. 

The brothers watched as she looked at the concoction, wondering how she could stomach it all. Sure the brothers had their fair share of ingesting magical concoctions, but never anything like this. 

“Στην υγειά σας,” (Cheers) she muttered, before downing the potion in one gulp. “GOD,” she hissed as she felt a rush of magic was over her. 

The poison seemed to dissipate, but she knew that she had to use her magic to continue to heal. In her fever dream, her father had warned her. If she continued to resist using her powers, the consequences could be dire.  Suppressing her powers would only lead to her powers becoming more out of control, and in her weakened state, it would make her easy prey. 

“I think,” she sighed, “I should rest. I know I said storytime, but between fighting Arachne and having to fight for my life,” she took a blanket and made her way to the couch, “my body feels worn out.” 

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, “rest is the best thing right now. You don’t have to give us the whole story, Y/N,” Sma assured her, earning him a bitch face from Dean, to which Sam rolled his eyes. “We’re just glad you’re okay.” 

“Yeah, we all need some shut-eye,” Dean interjected as he made his way towards his bed. 

Y/N was sure it was a combination of the paste and the potion in her system. But the minute her head hit the pillow, she drifted off to sleep. All the while, Dean had stayed up, watching over her. His heart was pounding in his chest as he wondered what kind of secrets she held. 

Chapter 6

No tags for any stories.

[inez-winchester-cameron]

My Girls (18+)

↠Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

↠Summary: After a particularly long hunt, Dean finds himself taking you in the only place he can get you alone (SMUT)

↠Cw: car sex, unprotected sex, oral

↠Notes: i wanna fuck dean in Baby so bad. Also this is semi-unedited

“I’m heading out for a food run,” Dean announced, grabbing his keys. You, Sam, Cas, Jack and Dean had just returned home from a long and tiring hunt. There were a couple other-world guests also staying at the bunker as well. You thought for a moment, thinking up a plan in your head. It had been a couple weeks since you had sex with Dean, which is very odd for you two. 

You quickly got up and announced you were going with him, heading out after him. Dean got into Baby and started her up, as usual, then you got in the passenger side. You began sorting through Dean’s cassette tapes. You were the only one that Dean allowed to pick the music.

“What’re you gonna play, sweetheart?”

You bit your lip as you came across the tape that contains all the ‘sex’ songs that you and Dean had agreed were good. You found yourself slipping that into the tape player, and turn the music up a little bit as it starts playing. Dean recognized the tape immediately, and gave you a look. A hungry, desperate look.

You smiled and played innocent, “What’re we getting to eat, love?”

“Keep this shit up and we’re gonna be having you to eat.”

You found your cheeks heating up a little bit, as you rub your thighs together. Dean glances at you for a second but he then turns his attention back to the road. A few seconds later, Dean took an unfamiliar turn. You’ve never been down that road before. 

“Where’re we going?” You questioned, but Dean just smirked at you. He clearly knew where he was going and what he was doing. Eventually you made it to an old abandoned “outlook” of sorts, that outlooked over a waterfall. Dean parked the car, and turned it off.

“Be a good girl and get back there.”

You found yourself listening and you crawled into the back, waiting for Dean. He got out and got into the back, shutting the door behind him, and crawling on top of you. Soon, pink lips met yours and Dean pushed his tongue into your mouth. His hands rested on your hips and fidgeted with your waistband. 

His lips began traveling down your neck, as he mumbled, “Been missing you, princess.” He made his point by grinding down, so you could feel his hardness. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and Dean took that as a sign to continue grinding against you.  

“Need you, Dean,” you begged, as he kissed down your neck, starting to suck a hickey. When you didn’t get an immediate answer, you let out a whine. Dean lifted up his head at this, his green eyes staring directly at your face, making eye contact. 

“Be patient, sweetheart,” he warned, but soon slipped off his flannel and t-shirt. Your hands found their way to his chest and began to feel all of his muscles. Dean growled against your neck, grinding down harder against you. Against his words, he started getting impatient, and tore your shirt in half, before taking your bra off. He kissed between your breasts, “Missed these.” He took a moment to give each nipple a quick lick before kissing down to your belly button. 

Your body shivered at his touch, it had been so so so long. Too long. Dean pulled down your jeans and panties at the same time, licking his lips at the sight of your wet pussy. Immediately he leaned in, locking his lips onto your clit. You moaned and bucked your hips up to his mouth. Dean’s rough hands immediately shut that down, pinning your hips to the seat. 

Eventually, Dean got sloppy and started eating your pussy recklessly. Oh but it felt so good, so good to have his mouth on you.

“Dean,” you whined, “Gonna cum.” Immediately after hearing this, Dean pulled back. A long and loud whine fell from your gorgeous lips, and Dean sat back up and leaned to kiss you, shutting that down. His tongue tangled with yours, letting you get a taste of yourself. Dean always did this, he loved making you taste yourself. After a moment, he pulled back.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he apologized for what he did a few moments earlier, “You ain’t cumming unless it's around me.” At this, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his hard-on against your wet pussy. His jeans got soaked but he didn’t care and growled, grinding against you. The feeling of the jean material rubbing against your clit drew a moan from your lips. Dean smirked at this but unbuttoned his jeans, slipping them and his boxers down. 

Your lips watered at the sight of Dean’s cock, missing the weight of it on your tongue. But there wasn’t time for that tonight, Dean needed you and he needed you now. Before you knew it, Dean was pushing his cock into your greedy hole, squeezing your hip tight with the hand he wasn’t using to hold himself up.

You moaned at the stretch, but you quickly adjusted, you were made to take Dean’s cock. Dean leaned down, placing kisses along your throat, mumbling, “Ready?” With a nod and a squeeze of your legs around his waist, Dean set a quick, desperate pace. 

“Fuck, missed this. Missed my girl,” he said, not referring to you or Baby, but rather to your pussy, “Missed her so fucking bad.” Dean watched your face contort into pleasure as your eyes shut. He swore under his breath, it always got him even hornier when he saw how good he was making you feel. Your pussy clenched around him, reminding him of how undeniably tight you are, have been, and always will be. 

“Dean,” you moaned out, tangling your fingers into his hair. Dean moved a hand down to your clit, starting to rub it in circles. He swore you got even tighter as he did this, and swore under his breath again.

“Such a good girl,” he praised you, kissing down your neck as he fucked you.

“Dean, gonna cum,” he moaned, and he could feel you contracting around him. Dean leaned up and whispered into your ear.

“Do it, baby, make a mess in my backseat.”

You found yourself moaned and cumming around his cock, Dean didn’t follow too far behind. Dean pulled out, quickly realizing his mistake as his cum started to seep out of you, almost landing on his leather seats. He quickly moves his flannel to under you, watching as his cum gushed out, spilling onto his flannel. Dean smirked at this, looking up at your panting form, he leaned down and kissed you, pulling back after a moment. He gave you a satisfied smile.

“I love late nights with my girls.”

[saltandburnheathens]

Good morning Miss Winnie.

Part II

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader.

Rating: Gen.

Summary:

You've just given birth to Dean's baby and are a enjoying a quiet family moment in the days afterwards.

Notes: Non-canon, no time line. And I don't ever want kids. But I just became an aunt and I sort of need to get this out of my system! Short and I'm not promising that I won't continue this. Who knows really. Finally this was written after I'd taken my usual nightly gummy.

The bunker was quiet first thing in the morning except for the usual hum of the circulation fans. You’d been there so long that they barely registered anymore, and you were extremely thankful that the consistent noise wasn’t a problem for the baby. That would have been a horror show. Trying to navigate parenthood with a baby awoken by the simplest of sounds. 

You shuddered at the thought. 

Life was always loud when you lived with Dean Winchester and his posse of colour characters. Between unexpected visitors and the brothers coming and going at odd hours, there was something new every day and often that new wasn’t good. 

But in that moment things were perfect. The monsters outside didn’t exist and you were a regular mom with a new baby and a husband who loved you. His bother Sam and best friend Castiel were an added bonus, the former serving as an unexpected asset when both you and Dean needed some rest.  

You crept carefully out of bed, your body still feeling weak, and quietly crossed to the crib by the wall. A set of hazel eyes stared up at you and your heart melted. 

“Good morning Miss Winnie.” You cooed, “Let’s get you up and at ‘em before you wake daddy.” 

You heard a small scoff followed by the shuffling of blankets. 

“Winnie?” Dean asked with a sleep-laden voice, “We ain’t calling her Winnie, sweetheart. I’ll accept those new-agey-hippy-names like Kendell and Kloe with a K before I’ll take Winnie.” 

“I’m just calling her that until we choose a name.” You laughed, lifting the little girl up into your arms, her head coming to rest on your chest, “And Winnie is short for Winchester in case you hadn’t pieced that together.” 

“I don’t care if it’s short for ‘daddy’s-little-angel’, it ain’t happening.” 

“I’ll cross that off my list then shall I?” You sat back on the bed, Dean coming up to nest beside you and his eyes immediately going to the baby in your arms. 

He smiled, creases forming at the corners of his eyes. 

“You’re not a Winnie, are ya’ princess?” In that voice he seemed to only have adapted five days ago after the birth of your daughter; that voice reserved for her. 

“Maybe not. What about Meghan?” You suggest. 

“Oh nope. No can do. Knew a Meg once. Demon.” 

You nodded knowingly. No one wanted to name their child after a monster. 

“Stevie?” Dean carried on, his eyes still fixed on the baby.

“Like Stevie Nicks?” You raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m not seeing it. Samatha?”

“Already got one Sam in this bunker and that’s more than enough. Alice?”

“Can’t do it. All I’ll keep hearing is ‘who the fuck is Alice’, and I don’t want my kid to be subjected to that for the rest of their life.” 

You both laughed, interrupted only by the whine building in the little one’s chest. You quickly jumped to action and proceeded to the morning routine you’d been adjusting to since getting back home. Dean followed you, rubbing at his eyes. 

“I don’t think I’ve had hangovers that made me feel quite as bad as waking up five times at night.” He yawned. 

You handed him a dirty diaper and smiled as he grimaced. 

“You can go back to bed if you want. I can manage by myself.” 

“Sweetheart, you just damn near broke your pelvis giving birth to my kid a few days ago. I’m in this from start to finish, and if that means running on caffeine and a prayer, then I’m game. Even for the diapers.” 

Dean rummaged through the first drawer of their dresser and pulled out a small onesie covered in colourful dinosaurs. He held it up in front of him and smiled. 

“It’s hard to believe how small she is, huh?”

“She didn’t feel so small coming out of me.” You quipped, taking the clothing from him to finally cover the squirming child on the changer, “I’m pretty sure my vagina will never be the same.” 

“That’s blasphemy.” Dean gasped playfully, “But seriously, baby, the doctor said that it’ll take a few weeks before you start to feel normal.” 

“Normal is subjective when you’re postpartum.” 

Holding his baby tight to his chest, Dean lent down and kissed you softly on the lips. His green eyes fluttered up to meet yours. 

“Let’s face it, ain’t nothing normal about either of us in the first place.”