#dean forester fluff
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vilentia · 2 years ago
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A Fragile Reunion
Dean Forester x reader
part 1 | part 2
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The weight of regret hung heavily on Dean's shoulders as he embarked on his journey to win back your trust. Every step he took was filled with uncertainty and trepidation, yet his determination to right his wrongs propelled him forward.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, as Dean poured his heart and soul into demonstrating his remorse. He wrote letters filled with heartfelt apologies, expressing the depth of his regret and his unwavering love for you. He left them on your doorstep, hoping that his words would reach your heart and ignite a glimmer of forgiveness.
But the silence that followed his efforts only intensified his anguish. Doubt gnawed at his insides, threatening to unravel his resolve. He couldn't help but wonder if his actions were in vain, if he had truly shattered any chance of reconciliation.
One day, as Dean stood on your doorstep once again, letter in hand, he hesitated. His hand trembled as he debated whether to leave it behind or to knock on the door and face you, to see the pain he had caused reflected in your eyes.
Summoning all his courage, Dean raised his hand and knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet street. Moments stretched into eternity until finally, the door creaked open, revealing you standing there, your eyes filled with a mixture of emotions—pain, uncertainty, and a glimmer of hope.
"You," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "What do you want, Dean?"
His heart thudded painfully against his chest as he looked into your eyes, his own filled with remorse. "I want to make things right, to earn back your trust," he pleaded, his voice laced with vulnerability. "I know I made a terrible mistake, and I can't change the past, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to prove to you that I've changed."
You studied his face, searching for sincerity amidst the pain. Slowly, you opened the door wider, allowing him to step inside. The room felt heavy with unspoken emotions as Dean cautiously entered, his eyes never leaving yours.
"I've spent so much time reflecting on what I've done," Dean began, his voice tinged with a mixture of regret and determination. "I've sought guidance, I've taken steps to become a better person, and I want to show you that I've learned from my mistakes. I want to prove that you can trust me again."
You listened, the words hanging in the air, mingling with the uncertainty that still clung to your heart. Emotions waged war within you as you struggled to reconcile the pain of betrayal with the lingering love you once shared.
"Dean," you finally spoke, your voice trembling with a mix of caution and longing. "I don't know if I can trust you again. But there's a part of me that believes in redemption, in second chances. If you're willing to put in the work, to show me every day that you've changed, maybe... just maybe, we can rebuild what we once had."
Dean's eyes widened with hope, tears of relief shimmering within them. "I promise you, I'll do everything in my power to make things right," he vowed, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'll cherish your trust and love like never before. Together, we can overcome this and create a future filled with happiness and healing."
As the room filled with a renewed sense of hope and the tender promise of healing, Dean and you stood at the precipice of a new beginning. The journey of redemption lay before you, a path filled with challenges and uncertainties, but also the potential for growth, forgiveness, and a love stronger than ever before. Together, you embraced the opportunity to rewrite your story, fueled by your shared determination to forge a future built on trust, understanding, and the unwavering belief in the power of second chances.
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starfilmz · 21 days ago
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fandoms ༒ ── outerbanks. supernatural. gilmore girls.
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outerbanks
thoroughfare - jj maybank / smau series (HIATUS)
famous!rafe - rafe cameron / smau series
close to you - rafe cameron / one shot
feminine urge - rafe cameron / smau series
supernatural
show me where it hurts - sam winchester / one shot
rich!reader - sam winchester / imagine
college friend!reader - sam winchester / imagine
gilmore girls
there she goes - dean forrester / one shot
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s4wdvator · 7 months ago
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𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
welcome to my masterlist!! (fics will soon arrive!)
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(000) 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐋
(111) 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒
(222) 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋
(333) 𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒
meet me!!
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creation-key · 2 months ago
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Imagine
Dean x Reader
Warnings: none, maybe a little angst (barely)
WC: 900
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Setting: Dean just broke up with Rory, causing a scene where he accuses her of have feelings for Jess. He’s run away from her and finds himself sitting in the gazebo in the middle of Stars Hollow.
You’re walking around your new neighborhood, getting aquatinted with the new surroundings, when you find yourself walking through the town center. You see a small grocery store, not used to the size since you’d move from Texas, where “bigger was better.” Your eyes move on from the store and land on a diner, “Luke’s Diner.” You smile, reminiscing on the memories you had with your mother in diner’s around the US.
As you continue to remember your adventures with your mother, your thoughts are soon interrupted by yelling. Startled, you turn towards the culprits.
“DEAN!! Where are you going?!?” A girl with long brown hair and a red dress exclaims, with what looks like tears in her eyes. It’s hard to tell due to the distance and time of night.
“Away from you… and him. Just leave me alone Rory. You 2 are perfect for each other !” The taller dark haired figure shouts back walking towards the gazebo in the town center, you assume is the center.
The girl turns around and runs back inside to what looks like a dance studio, but you don’t care because your gaze is brought back to the tall sulking figure, sitting, what looks to be, very uncomfortably. He leans over, dropping his head in his hands, probably crying, but you can’t tell from your position, so you start towards him.
You make it to him with very little noise, due to the already carved out path of stone leading up to the gazebo. Unsure of how to start the conversation, you sit down next to him, a few feet away. You notice him shift, but not acknowledge your presence.
“Are you okay?” You look at him quizzically, head drop down and tilted, sympathy dripping from your pores.
He jumps slightly, looking up at you, squinting his eyes in confusion, or maybe disbelief. You’re not quite sure.
“Huh?” The boy answers.
With his head fully up, you notice the red around his beautiful eyes,
You think to yourself-
wait… did you just calling his puffy red eyes beautiful? He’s obviously going through something and all you can notice is his looks? How vain can you be you wonder.
You immediately scold yourself for such fleeting thoughts and redirect your attention back to the boy in distress.
“Oh, sorry, I had just been watching everything that happened before you had sat down and it looked like a lot you know.” You smile at him not fully realizing how creepy you must’ve sound.
Before he can open his mouth in response, you quickly jump in nervously, “ Oh God, that sounded weird, I didn’t mean I was ‘watching’ you in like a creepy way or anything, I just happened to be in the surrounding area and witnessed the event unfold. Which really isn’t any of my business… Im sorry.” You finish your rambling and put your head down in embarrassment. Which doesn’t last for long before you hear the most beautiful sound, making you whip your head back up in disbelief.
He’s laughing, at you. Yes. But still laughing which is good! You smile at him.
“You’re laughing. That’s good, that means my work here is done.” You start to get up, fully prepared to walk home and dream about a could’ve been future with the boy behind you. But before you can leave a, “wait,” and some shuffling is heard before your wrist is softly grabbed.
You turn around, your hand slipping into his.
“Thank you.” He says smiling. OMG he has dimples, you could just die honestly. You smile back at him, softly nodding your head in acknowledgment.
“What’s your name he asks? Why have i never seen you before?” You make a mental note of your hand still imprisoned, which you don’t mind at all, before responding.
“I’m Lauren, I just moved here from Texas.”
“I’m Dean, it’s nice to meet you Lauren.”
“It’s nice to meet you too Dean!” The two of you look at each other under the stars, as a quiet breeze rustles through the nearby trees. The atmosphere feels serene, and for a moment, it feels like time stands still. You let out a breathless laugh, breaking whatever trance the both of you had found yourselves in. .
“I should probably get going, my Dad’s probably starting to worry," you say, reluctantly pulling your hand free from Dean's grip..”
He goes red in the face nodding and apologizing. You chuckle softly, turning to walk towards your house when you hear him shout,
“Hey Lauren , wait!” You turn and stop waiting for him to catch up to you.
“I’m going to see you before school starts right?”
You smile at him brightly, pleased that you’ve made good impression on him, “If you want to.”
“I definitely want to.”
With that you part ways, walking in opposite directions. When you reach home, you open the front door and step inside, the warmth of the house enveloping you.
“What’s got you so smiley at this time of night?” Your Dad sitting at the kitchen table asks.
Reaching with your hand, you touch your face, not realizing you were smiling the whole way home.
“Nothing. I’m just glad we’re finally here now.” You answer semi-honestly.
You’re Dad leaves his spot at the table walking up to you and pulling you into a deep hug, lightly kissing the top of you head.
“Me too pumpkin, me too.”
~fin~
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samuelsdean · 7 months ago
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Flicker
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pairing: dean winchester x reader
summary: "can i hold your hand?" you blurted out, surprised by your own boldness. a flicker of surprise crossed dean's face, quickly replaced by a ghost of a smile that sent a jolt through you. "yeah," he said, his voice softer than you were used to hearing. "yeah, you can."
genre: fluff
word count: 1.3k
author's notes: hi! here's another dean fic because i'm having a winchester brainrot after choosing to rewatch the show for the nth time. it's fluff again because i'm a sucker for soft!dean and i like it when idiots who are mutually pining for each other finally hold hands after 9989 years.
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THE WIND HOWLED LIKE A WOLF ON A FULL MOON ON A PERPETUALLY OVERCAST NIGHT. It scoured the dust from the abandoned house's roof, a skeletal silhouette against the bruise-colored sky. The once-white picket fence weathered to a sickly gray, stood like crooked teeth in a decaying grin. The trees behind it, looming and stark, clawed at the sky, their branches whispering secrets the wind refused to carry.
You shivered, the cold a mere whisper compared to the unsettling feeling that prickled your skin. This place, nestled in a forgotten fold of a desolate highway at the edge of a forest, vibrated with a wrongness that made the hairs on your arms stand on end.
"This place feels… dicey," Dean muttered, his voice barely audible over the wind. He scanned the deserted midway, his eyes narrowed in a way that spoke volumes of past encounters with the unsettling.
"Think the rumors were true?" you asked, swallowing hard against the lump of unease in your throat.
The "rumors" were the reason you were standing in this creepy house at dusk. A string of disappearances, whispers of screams echoing in the dead of night, all traced back to this desolate stretch of road. Apparently, there was an urban legend of sorts in the area where a couple would get a flat tire out of nowhere, and with the area being nothing but just a highway and trees, the couple would choose to trek to a nearby house, only for them end up missing right after.
"Why? Are you scared?" A wry smile tugged at the corner of Dean's lips as he teased you. Before you could shoulder-check him for bugging you, he added, "Maybe, maybe not. But sticking together's the best bet we got, wouldn't you say?"
His gaze met yours, and for a fleeting moment, you saw a flicker of something akin to concern beneath the gruff exterior. It was a rare glimpse into the man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Dean Winchester grew up suppressing whatever emotion he had besides his usual cocky demeanor and smirks because he had to raise Sam, his younger brother while hunting whatever it is that crawled out of the depths of hell. And Dean did a damn great job at that, Sam was now off to Stanford.
At that moment, the fear dissipated, replaced by a fierce determination.
"Yeah," you said, your voice firmer than you felt. "Let's get out of here."
He extended his hand, his calloused fingers surprisingly warm against your own. You hesitated for a beat, the implication of the gesture hanging heavy in the air. It was more than just a practical suggestion; it was a silent promise of support, a brief moment of connection you craved with this gruff hunter.
"Can I hold your hand?" you blurted out, surprised by your own boldness.
A flicker of surprise crossed Dean's face, quickly replaced by a ghost of a smile that sent a jolt through you. "Yeah," he said, his voice softer than you were used to hearing. "Yeah, you can."
You laced your fingers through his, the gesture a silent affirmation that went beyond the immediate danger. But for you, it was also a chance for something more, a stolen moment of skinship you yearned for.
As you walked, the wind seemed to whisper secrets around you, the creaking of the dilapidated house a morbid soundtrack. Each creak sent shivers down your spine, but Dean's grip remained steady, a reassuring anchor. You couldn't help but steal glances at him, his profile etched sharply against the dying light. The way his worn jacket barely contained the heat radiating from his body made your cheeks flush.
His hand, usually so quick to let go, lingered in yours. You weren't sure if he noticed the way your thumb brushed against his calloused skin, a silent plea for a little more contact. Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through your veins, or the way the danger heightened your senses, but Dean felt like a furnace beside you.
Suddenly, a flash of movement in the corner of your eye. A hulking shadow, all wrong angles, and unnatural speed darted behind a boarded-up ticket booth. A guttural growl, unlike anything you'd ever heard, ripped through the air. Your heart hammered against your ribs like a trapped bird.
"Did you see that?" you whispered, your voice barely audible over the wind.
Dean squeezed your hand, a silent acknowledgment, his hold tightening almost imperceptibly. This time, you were certain it wasn't just the danger.
"Stay close," he said, his voice low and gravelly.
He unsheathed his knife, its silver glinting in the fading light. You drew your own weapon, a wave of nausea washing over you. You hated this part, the constant feeling of being on the edge of a knife.
Stepping cautiously forward, you and Dean crept toward the source of the movement. The closer you got, the more the air crackled with an unnatural energy, the scent of decay thick and cloying. As you rounded a corner, the full horror of the creature revealed itself.
Towering over you was a monstrous figure, its once-human form twisted and warped. Its skin, a patchy mix of worminess and sickly shade, hung greasy. Claws, like sharpened daggers, protruded from its elongated fingers. But the most terrifying aspect was its face. A grotesque mockery of a human, its eyes burned with a bloodshot sclera devoid of any humanity.
The Rougarou, a creature born of insatiable hunger and despair, let out a bone-chilling roar, the sound echoing through the abandoned carnival. It lunged a blur of teeth and wormy skin.
The fight was a desperate ballet of survival. Dean, drawing on years of experience, moved with practiced efficiency, dodging the Rougarou's attacks while searching for an opening. You fought with a mix of fear and determination, adrenaline fueling your movements.
The Rougarou swiped at you with a clawed hand, leaving a searing mark across your arm. Pain flared, but you gritted your teeth, refusing to let it slow you down.
Dean created an opening, shouting, "Fire!" You lunged for your pocket, the familiar weight of the lighter a comfort in your hand. Snapping it open, you flicked the wheel, a flame erupting in the dying light. Hurling it with all your might, you aimed for the Rougarou's chest.
It shrieked, a sound that seemed to tear at the fabric of reality itself. The flame erupted on its body, a blossom of searing orange against the decaying flesh. The Rougarou thrashed, its inhuman roar turning into a desperate, pained yowl. It stumbled back, clawing at the burning fur, an unholy stench filling the air.
Fear, raw and primal, flickered in its eyes. But fear was a fleeting emotion for the creature. It roared again, charging at you with a desperate, burning lunge. This time, you were ready. You rolled to the side, the creature's claws missing you by a hair's breadth. Taking advantage of its momentum, Dean drove his silver knife into the Rougarou's back.
The creature howled in pain, clawing wildly. With a final, earth-shaking tremor, it collapsed, dissolving into a cloud of black smoke that dissipated with a sickly sweet stench.
You and Dean stood there, chests heaving, sweat clinging to your skin. The silence that followed was deafening.
"That was..." you started, your voice raspy.
"A Rougarou," Dean finished, his voice grim. "Nasty sons of bitches."
He reached out, checking the wound on your arm. His touch was surprisingly gentle. "You okay?"
You nodded, a weak smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks to you."
Dean met your gaze, a flicker of something warm passing between you in the fading light. He didn't say anything, but the way his hand lingered on your arm spoke volumes.
Together, you walked out of the abandoned place, the wind whispering through the trees, no longer sounding ominous but strangely peaceful. The horrors you'd faced had brought you closer, forging a bond forged in danger and shared survival. You knew this wouldn't be your last hunt, but for now, you had each other. And in that knowledge, you found a flicker of hope, a warmth that chased away the lingering chills of the night.
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zepskies · 1 month ago
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'Twas the Night...
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Dean listens, sometimes when you least expect it. This year, Christmas begins to become something new for both of you.    
AN: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone! This is my @spnfanficpond Secret Santa gift for @eldritchlibertine! The idea is based on this request from @whichwitchwanda (a story prompted from the header image).
Word Count: 2.4K
Tags/Warnings: Fluff and more fluff! Christmas feels. ❤️
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A door burst open, and your eyes raised from the page. You nearly dropped your book into your lap when you saw it—the wide, bristled top of an evergreen tree trying to shove its way through the door of the bunker.
Or rather, it only seemed that way.
All the way up at the top of the rod iron staircase, grumbled cursing and muttering and arguing filtered down to you in the common room, where you were leaning back in your seat with an old copy of Wuthering Heights. You sat up, an incredulous smirk beginning to curve your lips.
“Dean, it’s not gonna fit.” That was Sam, obviously. You’d recognize his testy bitching anywhere.
“You kiddin’ me? All that work I spent sawing this thing outta the ground, I’m gonna damn well make it fit. Come on, put your big boy pants on.”
The equally familiar gruff, grousing tone of your man’s voice almost made you snort. You set down the book on the table and debated whether you were going to get up and try to help, or let them hash it out. You were surprised they hadn’t called out for you yet.
After a few more seconds of listening to their frustrated huffing and puffing, you shook your head and got up. You reached the top of the stairs, and their sounds of irritated, breathless struggle became even clearer.
“Dean,” Sam protested.
“Shut up. I’ve almost got it…”
“You’re gonna break the damn frame—”
“Something tells me you didn’t get this thing at Home Depot,” you remarked.
There was a pause, and Dean called your name questioningly. He also sounded a bit embarrassed.
“Yep, I’m here, Chevy Chase,” you said, laughing as you grabbed the branches that were stuck in the doorway. You bent them at the angle the guys needed to get the whole thing inside, and all too quickly you had to step out of the way as Sam and Dean broke through the doorway with the rest of the tree.
Sam caught himself on the wall, while Dean threw a hand out to grasp at the railing of the stairs. You grabbed Dean’s arm to help steady him. Once he had his feet planted, he slung an arm around your waist and looked down on you with a satisfied smile—one that he then aimed at Sam.
“See? Told you it would fit.”
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“Where did you even get this thing?” you asked. You eyed Dean in curiosity, even as you were helping him stream the lights around this seven-foot monstrosity. You’d also taken great delight in putting on some holiday music. Now, Frank Sinatra’s “White Christmas” was playing from a Bluetooth speaker on the War Room table.
Dean shot you a distracted smile as he worked in concentration, bringing a string of lights around the part of the tree that was closest to the wall. He handed off the other end to you, and you wrapped the line of multicolored lights around.
“Eh, there’s a nice bit of forest a few miles out of town,” he said. Your brows raised high. You’d suspected, of course, but you still shook your head with a smile.  
“You know you need a permit for that, right?” you said.
“I tried to tell him,” said Sam. He was on his way up the stairs, heading out back to the car to get the box of ornaments he and Dean bought at Walmart this morning along with the pretty multicolored lights, all while you were still sleeping.
Dean rolled his eyes at his brother, but just kept focused on his task. Once he started something, he had to finish it, you noticed. And when he got into something, he was Mr. DIY, putting in his all. You liked watching the crunch between his brows, the set of his lips, the sureness of his hands while he mentally calculated what they were going to accomplish next.
Most of all, you liked the look of self-satisfaction when he was done, and happy with his finished product. It didn’t matter if he was tuning up the Impala, making a home-cooked meal for the three of you, or decorating a wild tree. That face was the same. 
“Illegally obtained tree aside,” you said, not bothering to temper your smile, “I thought you guys didn’t really celebrate Christmas. Or any holidays, for that matter.”
Dean gave you a small grin, though again, he seemed a little embarrassed. He freed one of his hands to scratch at the back of his head.
“Yeah, well…weren’t you the one who was talking about the Christmases you had growing up?” he said.
You blinked, your mouth gently falling open in surprise. That had been a couple weeks ago, when the first snow of December began to fall over Lebanon. Late that night, after settling into bed together, you’d turned towards him in his arms. Maybe it was the turn of the season making you nostalgic, but somehow the conversation drifted into you making a confession, about what you missed the most about your family.
Your parents had passed on, and your sister was distant. She had her own family and her own life, and she wanted to keep it far away from the things you hunted. You couldn’t blame her, even if the thought of her always pierced your heart.
Beyond than that, what you missed was the house where you grew up, small but cozy and lived in. You missed the smell of pine and cinnamon that filled the living room every day of December. You missed the nights you and your sister curled up by the fire late at night playing imaginary games, long after your parents’ had put you guys to bed. You missed your mother’s cooking, and helping her bake molasses cookies on Christmas Eve.
You missed togetherness, the feeling of warmth and safety.
You tilted your head at Dean.
“Yeah, but…” you trailed, not willing to finish the thought as another suspicion grew in your mind.
“Just thought we could do some of that this year for you, that’s all,” he said. And he shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. His hands were busy untangling some lights. “Matter of fact, we could all use the time off.”
You couldn’t help but pause. Your breathing shallowed, and no matter how much you fought it, tears stung in your eyes. You bit your lip to try and hold it all at bay. When Dean glanced up at you, he had to do a double take. It made you smile, despite your slightly blurring vision.
“Hey, what—”
You dropped your end of the lights and went to him. You raised up on your toes so you could wrap your arms around his neck in a warm hug. Dean uttered a surprised huff, but his arms came around your waist and gathered you closer. He soon realized he was still holding onto the tangle of lights, and he hung them on a nearby tree branch for now. His smile overtook his surprise and crinkled the corners of his eyes.
“I love you. You know that right?” Your voice was muffled in his neck, but he heard you well enough. He chuckled and slipped a soothing hand up and down your back.
“I do know, actually,” he said, his voice warm and teasing.
A giggle escaped you. You tugged on his short hair in retaliation, making him chuckle.
“Hey,” he warned, but it had heat of a different kind. His hand began venturing down to your ass, but before he could do some retaliating of his own, a door swung open and Sam came down the stairs hefting a couple different boxes of ornaments.
He raised a brow, though he smiled at the way you and his brother were entwined. You half pulled away to nod at Sam, sniffling at quickly wiping at your face. Dean dried some of the wetness from the corner of your eye with a curled finger. You glanced up at him and couldn’t help blushing, smiling, despite your embarrassment.
Dean still had an arm wrapped around your waist as you peered over at the boxes Sam set down near the tree. One of them caught your attention and made your eyes widen.
“Oh my God. They’re Scooby Doo themed!”
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The rest of the afternoon was spent decorating the tree with Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby echoing throughout the common room. After you made a trip to the grocery store, soon the smell of cinnamon, brown sugar and rich molasses joined the scent of pine throughout the entire bunker.
It was a Christmas Eve well spent. The night was filled with a rewatch marathon of Home Alone and Christmas Vacation. You agreed to Dean throwing in Elf into the mix, as long as you got to watch Love Actually, and The Holiday with Jude Law. Dean complained more than Sam about your girly chick-flicks, but he became just as invested in Colin Firth pouring his heart out in mangled Portuguese to Aurelia as you were, if less teary-eyed.
When The Holiday came around though, he was half asleep as he laid sprawled across your lap and the couch. Your nails gently massaging his scalp nearly did him in, along with Sam’s heavy-ass pour of eggnog. It was tradition, at this point.
By the end of the movie marathon, you were the one snoozing from your corner of the couch, your hand still in Dean’s hair.
He carried you to bed that night, your eyelids heavy as you teetered back and forth between slumber and the waking world. At least you were already in your pajamas. All he had to do was tuck you under the sheets on your side of the bed, then slip in behind you afterwards.
His arm draped around your waist, and you curled towards him, half on instinct as you let out a deep breath. Dean smiled as you settled against his chest. Your soft snores soon greeted his ears. Only then did he let himself rest…
Just not for long.
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You woke earlier than you planned to in the morning, mainly because your man pillow was no longer beside you. You reached out a hand and found Dean’s side of the bed empty and cold, the covers pulled back. With a frown, you opened bleary eyes and checked your phone. It was around the ungodly hour of 5:30 a.m.
What the hell was Dean doing up at the crack of dawn?
Unless… You paused as your memory served you a grim reminder. Unless he’d had a rough night, kept up by memories and dreams he didn’t always want to talk to you about. It wouldn’t be the first time he came back to bed after a few hours with the heady smell of bourbon on him.
You got up with a sigh, rolling your neck as you did so. You just wanted to check on him. Maybe you could even persuade him to come back to bed.
You threw on a sweater over your pajamas and some fluffy slippers Sam bought you for your birthday—all to shield you from the bunker’s chilly air and ice-cold floors. You’d have to remind Dean to check on the heater.
You padded out of the bedroom and down the long hall…and became distracted by the Christmas tree in the common room. It really was beautiful all lit up. The lights softly flashed in green, red, purple, and gold. Traditional red and gold ornaments hung beside the Scooby Doo themed ones, with Fred and Daphne front and center, along with the rest of the gang scattered throughout.
And then you found Dean.
“Damn it…friggin’ piece of shit ribbon…” 
Dean’s muttering drew your attention to his hunched figure kneeling at the base of the tree. Your head tilted in wonder as your face broke out into a smile. What the hell is he doing? You tried to be light on your feet as you approached him from behind. Peering over his shoulder, you could almost see what he was trying do with some shiny red wrapping paper and a big golden bow.
Your heart swelled. Had he really gotten you and Sam something for Christmas too? He didn’t need to get you anything…
Dean’s hunter reflexes must’ve been tingling though, because suddenly he sat up straighter and looked over his shoulder. His eyes widened when he saw you standing there in your pajamas, arms crossed over your robe.
He actually jolted, muttering a curse as he tried to cover up what he was doing.
“What’cha doin’, babe?” you asked. Your eyes gleamed with amusement.
Dean tried to get up, but his foot slipped on a stray ribbon. He careened back onto his ass and knocked into the tree. Not only did its branches poke into his face and arm, making him wince, but he managed to displace a couple of ornaments, sending them tumbling to the floor by his hand. He grunted and raised up onto his forearms. For the pièce de résistance, that lovely golden bow landed right in his lap.
With raised brows, you took in the sight of your man—all bedraggled and looking sheepish (and adorable) as hell. Your hand went up to cover your mouth, but you were unable to quiet the giggle that bubbled up and escaped your lips.
Dean cleared his throat. “Hey.”
You glanced down at the bow, almost perfectly placed in his lap.
“Hey,” you replied, your lips curving into a smile.
You lowered down to kneel in front of him, and you took his face in your gentle hands before you leaned in for a sweet, sensuous kiss. Dean breathed into it. Your eyes shut along with his as you savored the moment, and him.
When you parted, your smile remained as you fingered the shiny edge of the bow. Dean began to smirk as well, despite how warm his face had gotten. His big hands found their way to your hips, welcoming you when you took a comfortable seat over his thighs.
You whispered against his lips, “I already know which present I’m gonna unwrap first.” 
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AN: Lol there we go, a cheeky ending for you! Let me know if you liked this! ❤️💚
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mxltifxnd0m · 5 months ago
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spring showers 𖥔 d.winchester
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summary: dean interrupts your shower
pairings: dean winchester x reader, dean winchester x fem! reader
word count: 1.6K
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warnings: no use of 'y/n', fluff, smidge of angst, nudity, mentions of smut, implied smut, cursing
a/n: this was inspired by an old fic i wrote for druig back in 2022 and decided to rework it for dean! this is not full on smut but has NSFW themes so MINORS DNI!! you have been warned!
anyways reblog and comment i love seeing your thoughts and i hope you guys enjoy it!
𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵
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Steam filled the shower room of the bunker as water glided down your face and body.
You had a love for showers. Not that you don’t enjoy a bath once in a while, but those were more of a luxury than a necessity. You loved a hot shower after a brutal hunt, the warm water relaxing the sore muscles of your shoulders and back. The stinging of your wounds while the water ran down your body served as a reminder that you were still alive and not another casualty in a long line of them caused by the monsters. 
It was satisfying to see the crimson-red stained water roll down the drain until it turned clear. There were times you stayed in the shower until the hot water ran out and cold water started to spurt out of the showerhead. However, you didn’t get this often because of the rundown motels you stayed at while on hunts. Hot showers were used sparingly if you were bunking with the Winchesters.
Ah, yes, the Winchester brothers. You had the pleasure of meeting them when you were crashing at Bobby’s. They stumbled through the front door and found you sitting at the kitchen table in nothing but an old oversized t-shirt and shorts that were hidden underneath the shirt and eating cereal.
They were understandably confused when they saw a woman eating at Bobby’s kitchen table, and you noticed the shorter one of the two (even though he still towered over you); his gaze had never left your figure. You practically felt naked under his piercing stare, his forest green eyes flickering between your bare legs, your exposed shoulder, and face. 
Before you could introduce yourself, Bobby came stumbling into the kitchen to see the three of you staring at each other. Bobby grunted and introduced you to Sam and Dean Winchester. Dean, the one who had been staring at you, sent you a charming grin before extending his hand out for you to shake. You took it, feeling the roughness of his palm against yours and how it enveloped your smaller hand. You pulled away before shaking Sam’s. 
From then on, you would run in the Winchesters occasionally, either Bobby sending them your way or vice versa when you guys needed help on hunts. Communication between you and the brothers was scarce since you didn’t want to get attached to them, knowing how this life could turn out for those who did. You weren’t there when Bobby died, having lost contact with them before he did.
You reconnected with the brothers after having been asked by Jody, who you were acquainted with and who had told you Bobby had passed, for some help on a hunt and asked the Winchesters for help. She didn’t know that the three of you knew each other, but it was a pleasant surprise for you when you heard the roar of the Impala pulling into the motel parking lot where you were staying. 
Seeing them was a little awkward at first, but you guys got back into the comfortable rhythm that you once had prior to losing contact with each other. With three heads instead of one, you, Dean, and Sam quickly finished the hunt and went out to the local bar to celebrate. They had filled you in on what had happened with Bobby and everything that happened after that. You were surprised to find out that they had a home base they went back to after they were finished with their hunts. 
You found it a little strange that they called it “The Bunker,” and the whole Men of Letters situation was peculiar, but hey, you knew that Sam and Dean got into a lot of weird shit than the usual hunter. Sam had clocked in early that night, wanting to get some rest, and you and Dean stayed at the bar chatting until they were doing the last calls.
You and Dean had an interesting relationship with one another. Dean made it known from the beginning that he was attracted to you and wanted to sleep with you. He flirted with you constantly and would blush if you would flirt back. But over time, you guys built a tentative friendship with one another before losing contact.
You couldn’t deny the fact that you were attracted to Dean, but you had sworn to yourself that you wouldn’t sleep with Dean Winchester. Even before you had been introduced to him, you had heard that he was a love em and leave them type. You witnessed it multiple times when you would hunt together. It stung each time you saw the satisfied smirk on Dean’s face the morning after when you guys met at the diner before you parted ways. 
But this time around, you were slightly surprised that Dean hadn’t ditched you for the waitress who kept making eyes at him the entire night, and he drove you back to the motel where the two of you were staying. You didn’t want to stop talking to Dean, so you invited him for a nightcap, which ended up with you waking up the next day with a pounding headache, naked and tucked into Dean’s side as he slept soundly.
You started to panic and curse yourself out in your head. You did the thing that you said you wouldn’t do. As you thought about your next move, staring at him, Dean stirred and woke up to find you staring hard at him. His chuckle broke you out of your reverie, and you sent him a small smile, hiding your internal debate of getting up and deciding to try and to act normal was the best course of action. 
It seemed that Dean was able to see through your strained smile since his eyebrows were furrowed with concern before he raised his hand to your cheek and asked if everything was alright. You were going to lie and say everything was fine, but what actually came out of your mouth was the truth and how you weren’t sure where you stood with him after the night you guys had shared. 
Dean’s expression relaxed, his smile soft as his thumb brushed against the apple of your cheek. He opened his mouth to respond, but warm hands rested on your bare hips, making you tense, and your eyes flew open and broke you out of your trip down memory lane. You quickly turned around to meet green eyes filled with mirth, and sparks of desire scattered through his eyes along with the gold flecks. 
You relaxed as Dean smirked, as his gaze traveled down your naked body before meeting your eyes again. “Expecting someone else, sweetheart?” Dean asked with a cocked head. 
“Yeah, I was expecting Sam.” You quipped as you sent him a sarcastic smile. “How did you know that I told him to meet him here with me?” 
“Not funny.” Dean mocked your sarcastic grin before he scowled. He moved his hands to your waist and pulled you closer to him, your arms winding around his shoulders.
You laughed at the grumpy expression on his face, the sound echoing off of the tiled walls. Dean couldn’t help the corner of his mouth twitching upward at the sound of your laugh. He loved the sound of your laugh, and it never failed to make him smile or feel better when he was feeling off.   
“Anyway,” You said as you calmed down, “Not that I don’t love seeing you here like this,” You moved your eyebrows up and down as you took in Dean’s naked form, “but why are you in here?” 
“I needed to take a shower and you happened to be in here.” Dean said with innocent eyes as he stared at you, his hands squeezing your waist. 
You squinted at him suspiciously. “Right. Doesn’t explain why you’re in the shower I’m using right now.” 
“Can a guy not take a shower with his girl?”
You scoffed at him. “You and I both know that showers with you never end up being just showers.” 
Dean went to respond, but you cut him off. “Nope, not hearing it. I came in here to shower and not have sex with you.” 
Dean pouted at your words before leaning forward, his nose brushing against yours. 
“What if I said please?” 
“Still a no.” 
Dean groaned loudly, throwing his head back, unintentionally thrusting his hips into your stomach, feeling his erection brush against the skin of your stomach. One of your hands fell from his shoulder and down his chest, making Dean’s head snap back to stare at you. You had a sly smile on your face as your hand slowly trailed down his freckled chest, past his stomach, and lingered on the ‘V’ of his hips, getting dangerously close to his cock. You saw Dean swallow thickly as his breath became labored, waiting for your next move. 
“How about this? You let me finish my shower, and I’ll help out with your not-so-little problem.” You brushed the back of your hand against his erection before grasping it and leaning in and kissing Dean’s neck. 
“Okay?” You asked him after pulling away from his neck. You saw his green eyes blown out with lust as he nodded. 
“Words, honey.” You emphasized your words with a squeeze of your hand around his cock.
Dean let a small groan leave his mouth before he cleared his throat. “Yeah, sounds good.”
You smiled at him before kissing him softly against his plush lips. “Good boy.” You murmured against his lips before pulling away from him altogether. You turned back to face the hot water that was spraying against your back to finish your shower, and you smirked to yourself as you heard Dean’s bare feet hurry against the tile and out of the shower room. 
“Ew, Dean! Why don’t you have a towel?!” You heard Sam exclaim in disgust from the hallway, making you giggle loudly at Sam’s misfortune of seeing his brother naked. 
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lila-lou · 4 months ago
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✨A Winchester Apology✨
Summary: Dean forgot your birthday. Good thing he knows exactly how to apologize to you.
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, Fluff
Word Count: 3010
A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨
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Dean Winchester had never been one for forgetting important dates, but somehow, your birthday had slipped through the cracks. It wasn’t like him at all, and you knew that his guilt was eating him alive. Dean was never great with apologies, especially when he felt truly bad about something. But he was determined to make it up to you in his own way—Winchester style.
The Impala’s headlights cast long, eerie shadows as Dean pulled up to the small cabin he had rented for the night. You sat beside him, arms crossed, doing your best to keep your anger simmering just below the surface. He turned off the engine, the sudden silence deafening in the forested seclusion.
“Hey”, he said softly, turning to you, his green eyes filled with regret. “I know I screwed up. But just… let me try to make it right?”.
You sighed, looking away from him. “Dean, it’s not just about forgetting my birthday. It’s about feeling like I’m not important to you”.
His face fell, and he reached out to take your hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re the most important thing in my life, Y/N…Besides Sammy of course..But…I… Look. I don’t know how I messed this up, but I’m going to spend tonight making sure you know how much you mean to me”.
Reluctantly, you nodded. “Fine. One chance”.
Dean’s expression brightened, and he quickly got out of the car, moving around to open your door. “Thank you. Now, let’s get inside. I have a few surprises planned”.
The cabin was rustic but charming, a fire crackling warmly in the fireplace. Dean had decorated it with strings of fairy lights, their soft glow casting a magical aura over the room. A table was set with a delicious-looking spread—your favorite foods, of course. Dean might forget dates, but he never forgot your preferences.
“Wow, this is… actually really nice”, you admitted, feeling your anger begin to melt away.
He grinned, that classic grin that always made your heart skip a beat. “Only the best for you, sweetheart”.
You sat down at the table, and Dean poured you a glass of whiskey, knowing you hated wine, before joining you. The meal was delicious, the conversation easy, and you found yourself relaxing more and more. Dean was a natural charmer, and he was laying it on thick tonight, determined to win back your favor.
After dinner, he took your hand again and led you to the couch in front of the fire. “There’s something else I want to give you”, he said, pulling a small, neatly wrapped box from his jacket pocket.
Curious, you took the box and unwrapped it, revealing a delicate silver necklace with a pendant in the shape of an angel wing. It was beautiful, and you knew immediately that it held deep meaning—both of you had been saved by Castiel more times than you could count.
“Dean, it’s gorgeous”, you whispered, touched by the thoughtfulness of the gift.
He moved behind you, gently brushing your hair aside to clasp the necklace around your neck. His fingers lingered on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “I’m so sorry I made you feel unimportant. Let me show you how much you mean to me”, he murmured, his breath hot against your ear.
You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his. The intensity in his gaze took your breath away, and suddenly, you were very aware of how close he was. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks.
“I love you, Y/N”, he said, his voice low and husky. “And I’m going to spend the rest of the night proving it to you”.
Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, kissing you with a passion that left you dizzy. You melted into him, all the anger and hurt dissolving in the heat of the moment. His hands roamed your body, caressing and teasing, and you could feel the desire building between you.
Dean pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own dark with lust. “I want you”, he whispered. “Right here, right now”.
You nodded, unable to find your voice, and he wasted no time in stripping you of your clothes. The firelight danced on your skin, and you felt a rush of excitement as Dean’s hands and mouth explored every inch of you.
“You’re beautiful”, he groaned, his lips trailing down your neck to your collarbone. “I can’t get enough of you”.
You arched into him, your hands tangling in his hair as he moved lower, kissing a path down your body. His touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. By the time he reached your hips, you were trembling with anticipation.
“Dean, please”, you gasped, needing him more than you’d ever needed anything.
He looked up at you, a wicked smile on his lips. “Patience, baby. I’m going to make this unforgettable”.
And he did. Dean took his time, driving you insane with his mouth and hands until you were writhing beneath him, begging for release. He teased you with his tongue, tasting you slowly, intimately, his stubble scraping deliciously against your sensitive skin.
“Oh, fuck, Dean”, you moaned, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. He knew exactly what you liked, how to push you to the brink and keep you there, hovering on the precipice of pleasure.
When you finally couldn’t take it anymore, he moved up your body, kissing you deeply as he positioned himself between your legs. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and he entered you with a slow, deliberate thrust that made you cry out.
“Fuck”, he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. “You feel so good, baby”.
You clung to him, matching his rhythm as he moved inside you, the connection between you stronger than ever. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word of love and desire was a promise—Dean would never take you for granted again.
As he increased his pace, you could feel the tension building in your core, the pleasure intensifying with each thrust. Dean’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, deeper, and you gasped his name, the sensation overwhelming.
“Dean, I’m so close”, you panted, your nails raking down his back.
“I know, baby”, he groaned, his lips brushing against your ear. “Come for me. I want to feel you”.
His words were your undoing. With a cry, you came undone, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. Dean followed soon after, his own release triggered by the feeling of you tightening around him. He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered your name like a prayer.
When it was over, you lay in each other’s arms, the fire crackling softly in the background. Dean held you close, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back.
“I’m never going to forget your birthday again”, he said with a soft chuckle.
You smiled, resting your head on his chest. “You’d better not. But this was a pretty good apology”.
He kissed the top of your head, his hold on you tightening. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to”.
And you knew he meant it. Dean Winchester might be a lot of things, but when it came to you, he was always sincere. As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the love you shared, imperfections and all.
The next morning, the sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You stirred in Dean’s arms, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. As you opened your eyes, you found him already awake, watching you with a tender expression.
“Good morning”; he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
“Morning”; you replied, your voice still groggy from sleep. “Did you sleep well?”.
“Best sleep I’ve had in a long time”, he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Having you in my arms makes all the difference”.
You blushed, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Last night was… pretty amazing”.
He chuckled softly. “It was. And I meant what I said, Y/N. I’m going to make sure you know how much you mean to me, every single day”.
You spent the morning lazily wrapped in each other’s arms, talking about everything and nothing. The peaceful solitude of the cabin was a welcome change from the constant chaos of your usual lives, and you savored every moment of it.
As the day wore on, Dean suggested taking a walk through the woods. The idea of spending more time with him, away from everything, was appealing, so you agreed. You wandered through the trees, the sound of birdsong and rustling leaves creating a serene soundtrack to your conversations.
After a while, Dean stopped, turning to face you. “I know I haven’t always been the best at showing it, but I don’t know what I’d do without you”.
You reached up to cup his face, your thumb tracing the line of his jaw. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere, Dean”.
He leaned down to kiss you, a slow, tender kiss that conveyed all the emotions words couldn't. The peacefulness of the forest, the warmth of his embrace, and the intensity of his gaze all combined to make you feel completely cherished.
As the kiss deepened, Dean's hands roamed your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own private universe.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, Dean rested his forehead against yours. "I love you so much", he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.
You smiled. "I love you too, Dean".
You talked about everything under the sun—your favorite memories, your hopes for the future, the little things that made you laugh. It was as if a weight had lifted, allowing you both to be completely open and honest.
After your walk, you returned to the cabin, where Dean had another surprise waiting. He had set up a cozy picnic by the lake, complete with a blanket, pillows, and a basket filled with your favorite snacks.
“You really went all out”, you said, genuinely touched by the effort he had put into making the day special.
Dean shrugged, a shy smile playing on his lips. “You deserve it”.
You spent the afternoon lounging by the lake. The sun set in a blaze of colors, casting a warm glow over everything, and you felt a deep sense of contentment.
As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, you lay back on the blanket, your head resting on Dean’s chest. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you both gazed up at the constellations.
“You know”, Dean said after a while, his voice a low rumble in the quiet night, “I used to think I didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve you. But being with you, it makes me realize how lucky I am”.
You turned to look at him, your heart swelling with love. “Dean, you deserve all the happiness in the world. And I’m lucky to have you too”.
He kissed you again, slow and sweet, his lips lingering on yours. The kiss deepened, and soon you were lost in each other once more, the world around you disappearing as you focused solely on the feeling of his body against yours.
Dean’s hands moved to your hips, pulling you closer as he kissed a trail down your neck. You moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his hair as he continued his exploration. The heat between you intensified, and soon you were both breathless with desire.
“Let’s go inside”, Dean whispered against your skin, his voice husky with need.
You nodded, and together you gathered your things and made your way back to the cabin. Once inside, Dean didn’t waste any time, his hands and lips finding you once more as he backed you against the wall. You gasped as he pressed his body against yours, his arousal evident through his jeans.
“Dean”, you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation.
He lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom. He laid you down gently on the bed, his eyes dark with desire as he looked at you.
You reached for him, pulling him down for a kiss. The feel of his body on yours, the weight of him, the heat—it was intoxicating. Dean moved against you, his hands sliding under your shirt, his touch igniting a fire within you.
You helped him remove your clothes, your breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps as his hands and mouth explored your skin. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word of love and desire heightened your senses, driving you wild with need.
When you were finally bare before him, Dean paused, his eyes raking over your body with a mixture of reverence and hunger. “You’re fucking perfect”, he said, his voice filled with awe.
You blushed under his gaze, feeling both vulnerable and incredibly aroused. “Dean, please”, you whispered, your body aching for his touch.
He didn’t need any further encouragement. Dean moved over you, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss as he settled between your legs. You could feel the heat of him, the hardness pressing against your core, and you moaned, arching into him.
“Do you want this?”, he asked, his voice rough with restraint.
“Yes”, you breathed, your hands clutching at his shoulders. “I need you, Dean”.
With a growl, he pushed into you, slow and deliberate, filling you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, and you cried out, your fingers digging into his back. Dean paused, giving you a moment to adjust, his eyes locked on yours.
“You okay?”, he asked, his voice tight with control.
You nodded, your body humming with pleasure. “Yes, I’m perfect”.
He began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, each one sending waves of ecstasy through you. You matched his rhythm, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. The connection between you was electric, every touch, every kiss, every breath bringing you closer to the edge.
Dean’s pace quickened, his control slipping as the intensity of the moment overwhelmed him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, your moans mingling with his as you both chased the peak of pleasure.
“Y/N”, he groaned, his voice a raw whisper. “I’m so close”.
“Me too”, you gasped, your body trembling with the force of your impending release.
With a final, powerful thrust, you both tumbled over the edge, the pleasure crashing over you in waves. You cried out his name, your body shaking. Dean followed, his groan of satisfaction echoing in your ears.
He collapsed on top of you, both of you panting and spent. Dean rolled to the side, pulling you into his arms, holding you close as you both came down from the high.
“I love you”, he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “So damn much”.
“I love you too”, you replied, snuggling into his embrace.
You fell asleep in his arms, the warmth and safety of his embrace lulling you into a peaceful slumber.
The next morning, you woke to the smell of coffee and the sound of Dean humming softly in the kitchen.
You stretched, feeling deliciously sore from the night before, and smiled as you remembered the events of the previous two days. Dean had gone above and beyond to make it up to you, and you felt more connected to him than ever.
You got out of bed and made your way to the kitchen, where you found Dean cooking breakfast. He turned when he heard you, his face lighting up with a smile.
“Morning, beautiful”, he said, setting down the spatula and pulling you close. “I made breakfast. Hope you’re hungry”, he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
You sat down at the table, and Dean served you a plate of pancakes, bacon, and eggs. The meal was delicious, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the simple, intimate moments you shared.
As the day turned into evening, you found yourselves back at the cabin, sitting by the fire.
“Dean”, you said after a while, your voice soft. “Thank you for everything. This weekend has been perfect”.
He smiled. “I’m just glad I could make it up to you. I never want you to feel unimportant again”.
You squeezed his hand, your heart full of love. “You’ve more than made it up to me. I feel more loved and cherished than ever”.
Dean leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a sweet, lingering kiss. “Good”, he whispered against your lips. “Because you are. More than you’ll ever know”.
You kissed him back, your heart swelling with emotion. The love you shared was a rare and precious thing.
As the fire crackled softly in the background, you and Dean held each other close, savoring the quiet, intimate moments that made your love so special. You knew that life would continue to throw obstacles your way, but with Dean by your side, you felt ready to face anything.
And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the fire and the love of the man you adored, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be.
———————————
A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 
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ultravi0lence14 · 1 month ago
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White Winter Hymnal
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dean winchester x fairy!reader
1.5k | fluff, fem pronouns
summary: a trip to a snowy cottage in vermont has dean finding what he truly yearns for.
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the forest cottage you resided in glistened in the winter air. snow decorating your roof and brushing against the plants and flowers you had decorated the front steps with. it was december in vermont, and the snowy weather and cold chill sent most of your forest friends to different, more warm climates
you didn’t seem to mind though, having your multitude of indoor animals to keep you company. you didn’t interact with the townspeople, not seeing the need for you to have your animals to keep you company. yeah, you sounded like a freaky old cat lady but you really didn’t seem to mind.
it came as a shock when a light knock was heard on your front door one morning. you didn’t get a lot of visitors, and you noticed your pet dog winnie charging towards the entryway and started barking and growling by the window.
tentatively, you walked towards your front door and slowly peeked out of the peephole. standing on your porch were two men dressed in suits and really long coats. you didn’t know why they were here, for you’d never met them in your life and you couldn’t think of what they would want with you.
slowly opening the door, you peeked your head tentatively through the small crack of your opened door. there was a tall and a short one, both having looks on their faces like they knew something they shouldn’t.
the shorter of the two didn’t even great you, nor did he let you even speak before he was asking his questions very directly “you’re a fairy right?”
and that was what the looks on their faces were for.
your eyes widened slightly, ushering them in as you opened your door a little wider. “how do you know that?” you spoke as you closed the front door behind you, turning around to see the two men standing by your living room.
“we’re hunters, that's how.” the taller one spoke less bluntly than his companion, and he actually followed up with an introduction. “i’m sam winchester by the way, and this is my brother dean.”
you just nod, taking in the two as you guide them over to your couch. sitting down, the three of you just stare at each other awkwardly. you not knowing the reason they are here and both sam and dean not knowing how to go about what they need to say.
finally, after what felt like ages, sam cleared his throat and began explaining why he and his brother were at your door. apparently there was a witch in your town, and according to folklore fairies and witches were very well akin to each other.
they weren’t wrong. witches did use to reside in forest’s, leaving them to be around fairies more often than not. it wasn’t like some sort of sixth sense type of thing. it was more of a spidey sense in hindsight. when you came in contact with a witch, it was like you just knew. and that’s why sam and dean needed your help.
dean watched as you and sam conversed, not being able to take his eyes off of the way you looked when sam mentioned something you knew a lot about. he couldn’t help but marvel at your excitement, see how your face lit up. though, when he saw sam looking at him funny, he had to act cool and like he wasn’t just being a total creep.
“so basically we just need you to join us around town, see where this witch is.” dean’s words were more straight forward than sam’s, but you really didn’t see the harm in helping them. it was innocent help, and you’d be ridding the town of an evil witch apparently.
getting up from the couch, you just smiled at the two brothers. “okay, i’ll help. just let me get changed first.”
as you walked up your stairs, sam noticed that dean was watching you walk away. he was taking in your features, and sam realized how his brother had been doing this when you were talking to them. he’d stare intently at your face, the way you laughed and watching your hair move back and forth like a hypnotists pendant.
it was quite glaringly obvious what dean was doing, and sam couldn’t help but turn to his brother and give him his classic bitch face.
dean noticed it from the corner of his eye, and he turned to look at sam with a confused and exasperated look. “dude, what is it? why are you staring at me like that?”
“why are you staring at her like that?” sam fired back instantly, watching as dean’s face burned a slight pink colour. “i’ve seen how you’ve been looking at her this whole time. she’s agreed to help us, and i am not letting you bang and dump her. she seems nice, and it honestly would be good to have a fairy on our side.”
dean just looked at sam bewildered, an almost offended look on his face. “i have not been staring at her.” sam gave dean the look, and dean couldn’t help but scoff a little and shake his head. “okay, her hair is very shiny. and i like the little freckles on her cheeks. but that doesn’t mean i just want to use and discard her, i have class.”
“yeah, class cause you like her.” sam’s matter of fact voice had dean giving him the stink eye, and than smacking him in the arm when he tried to get in another jab. “dude shut up, she’s coming back.”
turning his head as you descended towards the living room, dean felt his breath slightly catch in his throat. you were in sheer white tights, a mini denim skirt and form fitting black cardigan with a plain jacket over top. your bootie covered feet shuffled across the floor as you beckoned the two brothers over to your front door, signalling you were ready to go.
dean felt like a middle schooler. he had literally just met you ten minutes ago, yet he couldn’t help but stare at your beauty. the light makeup you had put on brightened up your features, making you look even prettier than before. dean didn’t know if all fairies looked this gorgeous, but he didn’t care because you were in front of him and you were making him weak in the knees.
the rest of the day was pure amusement for sam. watching as his brother — the notorious womanizer — followed you around like a lost puppy. he was like a dog chasing his bone, and you were any the more oblivious to it.
you bent down to pet a friendly dog; dean’s face almost hurt from smiling at your cooing voice. you yapped on and on about fairy lore and your own fairy lineage; dean listened so intently sam had to pull him away from walking into a pole. the best part was when you were telling him and sam all about your forest friends, even the cute little dog and cat you have at home; and dean acted like they were the best creations in the world.
as the sun started to set, sam and dean walked you back to your cozy cabin. you had found the witch in a nearby herbs shop, and the winchester’s decided that hunting her after they drop you off would probably be the best idea; not like you were complaining.
sam had waited by the car, knowingly winking at dean as he walked you to your front door. you stopped before the your entry way, turning towards dean and looking at the complete dopey smile on his face.
that man was absolutely down bad, and it seemed everyone knew it but him.
a light smile dawned on your face, and you couldn’t hold in your gratitude anymore. “thank you for letting me help today. it’s nice to know that i’m out doing good and not staying holed up in my home.”
dean just smiled back at you, one of the most genuine and least cocky looks that sam had ever seen on him around a girl. with a shake of his head, dean nodded his head in thanks and looked back up at you. “well i think your home is lovely.”
he sounded so silly, and you couldn’t help but grab a pen and a piece of paper out of your purse and write your number down on it. “i just got this phone last week,” you started, watching as dean eyed you with curiosity. “but i’m getting the hang of it. so i better see your name on that strange caller id thingy.”
dean found himself genuinely laughing at your sad attempt of a joke, and he took your number with gracious hands. “i’ll put it to good use.” he joked back, watching as your smile brightened and your face practically beamed with excitement.
before you went into your house, you turned around and gave dean a quick peck on the cheek, not even registering his reaction before you were in your house and eagerly waving goodbye.
he was stunned. and as he walked back to the impala, he could see sam’s smug expression written all over his face.
“dude, you are so whipped.”
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326 notes · View notes
shrenvents · 4 months ago
Note
hii can you do some dean smut, maybe he and reader meet in a dive bar or sum?? <3
a/n: sure thing, i hope u like 😉😘
Mind Games
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Warnings: Minors dni; Smut, v!penetration (protection used), language, fingering, some fluff, some jealousy
Pairing: Dean Winchester x you
Summary: You and Sam go way back. You and Dean as well, though he has no recollection of it, and for that, you make him pay.
Word Count: 4.1 k
...
The night had been long already when Sam texted you—“Hey, I'm in town. Drinks at Murphy's?”—but you didn’t hesitate to answer yes. It had been quite some time since you’d last seen him, and life had a funny way of pulling people apart after high school, though you and Sam tried to stay in touch here and there.
It hurt when he unexpectedly dropped out of school without explaining why, but thankfully he reconnected down the line, and the rest was history. He was just an easy friend, a good one you could pick up things with even after years of silence.
A dive bar wasn’t exactly your first choice. You preferred places with brighter lighting and cleaner, less sticky floors, without an old jukebox playing songs that were a hit, long before any patrons could remember. But Sam seemed to have a soft spot for them. It suited him, really—the unpretentious atmosphere, the cheap drinks. 
As you stepped past the creaky door, the scent of stale beer and cigarettes hit you like a wave of nostalgia. It reminded you of late nights sneaking into bars with Sam when you were underage, laughing too loud, worrying too little. The memory still made you smile.
You quickly spotted Sam, his broad frame hunched over a small booth in the corner, beer in hand. He looked up, eyes twinkling when he saw you, enthusiastically calling your name. Mid-wave, you froze and your heart skipped a beat after noticing who was sitting across from him —Dean. Sam’s older brother. 
Dean leaned back in his chair, lazily nursing a beer and his signature, cocky smirk as his eyes coasted his surroundings. He looked exactly the same, though his face was a little more rugged, and perhaps a little worn from life.
You’d had a ridiculous crush on Dean back in school. Your best friend's older brother. The guy who could make anyone laugh, who strode around like the world was his oyster. But he never noticed you. Not back then. Dean was too busy sleeping around, charming his way through the female student body, and leaving an abundance of broken hearts in his wake. The few times you were around him, he rarely glanced in your direction. And that was fine. Especially now, since you’ve grown up and moved on…
'Of course he's here,' you thought with an internal roll of your eyes, trying to steel yourself for the sudden rush of old, pitiful memories of unrequited love. You should've guessed he'd be here since Sam told you they'd hit the road together.
With a deep breath, you straightened out your shoulders and paced over, mustering all your strength to fix a calm smile onto your face as you greeted Sam, and his brother, who most likely wouldn’t really know you. "Long time no see," Sam remarked, standing to give you a bear hug, which you immediately returned. “Missed you."
"Missed you too," you replied with a pleased sigh. Your eyes then flickered to Dean for the briefest moment. He hadn’t moved, still reclined in his seat, watching you both with that curious tilt of his head. His silence stretched on long enough that it was clear—he didn’t recognize you.
'Typical,' you thought, and your smile tightened into a thin line as you slid into the booth. Ignoring the way Dean’s gaze dwindled, you decided two could play this game. It might be fun, even.
"Dean, you remember her now, don't you?" Sam asked, oblivious to the tension looming in the air as he gestured to you, hoping the in-person image would jog his memory.
Dean’s brows furrowed, and for a second, you swore you saw something flash behind his forest-coloured eyes. Then, as if he’d decided it wasn’t worth pretending, he shook his head, offering you a half-smile. You dismissed the swarming butterflies in your stomach, realizing this might just be the first time he's truly looked at you. And you’ve seen that look countless times from afar —it was the one he showed to the next girl he'd pick up.
"Sorry," Dean huffed dramatically, feigning disappointment having not remembered you. His voice was a low rumble that made your pulse quicken against your will. "Can’t say I do."
And there it was. Just as you expected. You’d spent countless afternoons back in high school, hanging out with Sam, romanticizing his older brother from the sidelines, praying he’d eventually give you the time of day. But Dean Winchester has always been… Well, Dean Winchester. And he always will be.
You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms with a smirk of your own, mimicking his relaxed demeanour. "Don’t worry about it. It’s been a while." Dean’s eyes narrowed momentarily, like he knew he’d missed something important, but had no clue what. Sam, ever the peacemaker, cut in with a laugh.
“Well, now that that's settled, drinks are on us. Let’s catch up.” Sam pushed a beer towards you and you downed nearly half, already determined to show that tonight, you weren't gonna be that quiet, shy, unnoticeable girl you were in school. If Dean noticed you now, he was in for one hell of a ride…
You and Sam probably spoke for less than an hour, because, unfortunately for Sam, he could barely get a word in with all of Dean's shameless flirting, which you somewhat entertained. Undoubtedly, neglecting him only egged him on more.
Throughout the night, after Sam gave up and wandered elsewhere, drunk and confused, Dean would make bold throwaway comments, steal lingering glances, and release that low chuckle every time you defiantly teased him. At first, it was satisfying—this was the guy you used to dream about noticing you, and now he couldn’t take his eyes off you. But as the hours ticked by, you recalled all too well who Dean really was: a player. A guy who’d probably seen countless women come and go without a second thought. However, now, with him slowly inching towards you, it was becoming increasingly difficult to disregard the urge to go home with him to spare your dignity.
The second the ragged surface of his jeans started grazing your thigh, you excused yourself to get another drink. Strutting over to the bar, you felt his eyes bore into your backside and a shiver racked down your spine. Rather dizzyly, you ordered another drink but were surprised when a tall stranger offered to pay for it. Despite the unwanted attention, with Dean eyeing you both, you selected to make this stranger an outlet for a potential mistake.
So just for show, you leaned in a little too close, laughing at jokes that weren’t funny, ambling with your drink as if you were reluctant to return to Dean. His gaze was burning holes into the man's head the entire time, and you knew this was doing wonders to Dean's inflated ego. 
Then you heard a loud thud behind you, and just as you turned around, Dean was already there, standing close by, staring daggers into the stranger you ironically couldn't remember the name of. Dean then glanced down at you, wordlessly demanding eye contact, and you're rooted to the floor when his hand brazenly brushes across your lower back, to rest comfortably on your hip. "Hey," he smiled as his gaze softened, marking the smooth return of his playboy facade.
"How about we get outta here?" Dean whispered into your ear while his nose skimmed your hair. Subtly taking a deep breath, you seductively beam up at him and note how his grip tightened on your side as if he had to brace himself. "Exactly what I was thinking," you whispered back and Dean's eyes fluttered, and you're so close he likely thinks you're about to kiss, but you have other plans.
"Wanna go?" You asked the man you nearly forgot about, who seems almost as stunned as you sense Dean is. He takes a sharp intake of breath at his rejection, virtually staggering back from you, and the moment his hand lifts from your hot flesh, you slip away and grab the stranger's forearm, swiftly hauling him outside with you, without looking back. As you left, you waved goodbye to Sam. "I'll call you tomorrow," you said with an energetic wink, unable to conceal how giddy you were.
After your dramatic exit, you made it clear to the poor stranger that you had no intention of taking things any further than a walk to your car. But Dean didn’t know that. 
The very next day, you made more plans with Sam to make up for yesterday's turn of events, but Dean was relentless. For that whole week in fact. He obviously forced Sam to give him your number, and since then, there have been numerous texts, calls, and unexpected visits. Each time he found you, his approach became more serious, more focused, and still, you’d reject him every time, in a rather absentminded way, which drove him mad. You grew to love the way it made him squirm.
Today was one of those days, at a quiet little bar far from the one you met at, the conversation quickly turned south from the usual banter.
He’d barely sat down before that trademark smirk was back. His green eyes glinted as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table between you, his fingers grazing yours. The touch was subtle, but deliberate—like he was testing the waters. You pulled your hand back just a fraction, enough for him to notice but not enough to discourage him. You were growing unsure of who you were punishing at this point.
"Missed me?" Dean's voice was deep, smooth, and far too confident for someone who’d been chasing you all week and failing miserably. You rolled your eyes playfully and took a sip of your drink. "Don’t flatter yourself. I just wanted to get a quiet drink," you quipped. Dean chuckled, undeterred, shaking his head. "Right, right. That’s why you agreed to meet me here. For a ‘quiet' drink." His voice dripped with mischievous sarcasm, and an undertone of sexual frustration.
You couldn’t help but grin. "Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better." You crossed your legs and kicked out one, lightly touching Dean's, and he tensed. He then closed in, his fingers gently touching the back of your hand, this time pausing just long enough to send a quake up your arm. "You like to keep me guessing, don’t you?" He wet his lips, eyes darting to yours, which were shrivelling up with anticipation.
"Maybe," you admitted with a sheepish grin. "Or maybe I just like taking you down a few pegs." Dean laughed, a deep, throaty sound that sounded a bit like a scoff and sent a rush of heat through you. He didn’t pull away, and the teasing glow in his eyes eased for just a moment as he studied you.
"You drive me crazy, you know that?" His voice dropped a notch, and his regard danced across your skin. "Ever since that night at Murphy's… I haven’t stopped thinking about you."
Though your pulse was racing, you shifted away, pretending to be unimpressed. "I'm sure you say that to all the ladies," you taunted with a roll of your eyes. Dean shook his head, his smile fading a little. "This isn't like that."
You raised an eyebrow in mock disbelief. "Oh Please. Not even a little?"
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I know I didn’t remember you from school. But Sam and I've moved around so much; I never bothered to remember anyone." He winced, as if admitting it aloud stung a little. "Though I have no idea how I don't remember you. I wish I did," he expressed, and he sounded so sincere that you nearly swooned.
"But things are different now. This is different," he proclaimed, eyes wild with a fiery determination. You arched an eyebrow, scooting forward. "So, what’s this been about then?" Though you question Dean, you give him no time to respond, pressing on. "You're just upset that I didn’t fall into your lap like all the others?"
Dean’s eyes were ablaze, and he didn't retract into his seat. If anything, he dipped in closer. "Sorry I hurt your ego," you added, half-sarcastic, half-challenging. He shook his head and his jaw clenched. "Maybe it started out that way," he acknowledged, but his tone held not a trace of his usual humour. "But really, it isn’t like that anymore."
You tilted your head, intrigued by the sincerity in his voice, but confused by his articulation. You’d expected him to laugh it off, throw out a line, but this? This felt… as he said, different. Not to mention the way he was looking at you—like he was seeing you, really seeing you—made your heart skip a beat.
"Oooohhh, okay then," you mocked slowly, drawing out the words. "Tell me, what’s it like Dean?" If you weren't paying such close attention to him, you might have missed how his breath hitched and how his eyes darkened while he inched closer to you. The impish atmosphere between you two had suddenly altered, the circulating tension becoming thick and electric. His hand moved to your thigh under the table, his touch scalding, steady, while his other hand weaved through your fingers.
"It’s like…" He trailed off, his voice a whisper now, his lips brushing your ear. "Every time I see you, I have to resist the urge to…" He paused, cutting himself short as he moved back slightly. His breath was warm on your skin and he peered down at your lips once again, however this time, he appeared vulnerable.
"To what?" You whispered, barely able to get the words out as your heart pounded against your ribs. Dean’s eyes flicked back up to meet yours, his hand tautening on your leg, his thumb slowly rubbing your inner thigh. "To kiss you."
Before you could respond he closed the gap, his lips crashing into yours with a sudden, heated intensity that took your breath away. You melted into the kiss. All the teasing, the banter, the back-and-forth disappeared as you instinctively tangled your fingers into his hair, drawing him in.
Dean groaned softly against your lips, pleased by your instant reaction. His hand moved from yours to cup your cheek, his thumb gently gliding over your flushed skin as the kiss deepened. It was slow at first, then building, and heat swarmed your core when the hand gripping your thigh slid upwards. You felt the pent-up tension you'd been feeling all week, and since the moment you saw him, spill into your actions. He pressed flush against you, leaving no space, and you laid your legs overtop of his lap. His tongue licked your lips surface, grazing your teeth and you gasped, pulling away as much as he allowed.
Breathless and panting, Dean rested his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "That’s what it’s like," he rasped airily, his voice hoarse. And for the first time, you believed him. Things may really be different.
As you got lost in your thoughts, he began to chant your name with that same smile widening. Both his hands then seized your upper arms, shaking you tenderly as he repeated your name. "Tell me what you're thinking," he more or less pleaded.
"I'm thinking that, if I find out you're lying to get in my pants, I'll kill you," you smirked devilishly, peering up at him through hooded eyes. His eyes morphed into a darker shade of black, turned on by your threat. You giggled, lightly shaking your head. "I can't fake this baby," Dean sweet talks, and you note how his manner seems looser now that he's gotten how he feels off his chest.
He pecks your cheek. "You know, I was pretty hurt when you left with that guy the other night," he huffed like the memory still haunted him. You stifled your laugh. "Uh-huh?" His eyes narrowed at your teasing response, though his smile hardly wavered. "You think that's funny?"
"Yeah," you replied immediately with a shrug. "Especially since I was deliberately messing with you." Dean's brows shot into his forehead, creasing it in utter disbelief and bafflement. "I didn't sleep with him Dean," your tone lowers wantonly, "like I said, I wanted to take you down a few pegs."
His wide eyes crinkled as he erupted with laughter, stammering "touché" in between chuckles. You laughed along, admiring how carefree he was at that moment. When his stream of laughter died out, you gulped at the strange look he suddenly showed. "It's a shame," he stated cryptically. Your face twisted with puzzlement, which made Dean's dreamlike expression grow, apparently in deep contemplation. "What?" You snapped jokingly.
"Oh nothing," he sighed while his palms skated down to your torso, cupping your ribcage as he looked to the distance sadly. You smacked his side which made a snort escape him. "Oh, just... If only you left with me that night," he remarked dolefully, unable to hide that glint of lust-fueled wit. "If only," you reiterated with a strained sound, also unable to hide your looping thoughts, which were clouded by desire. "How about we make that happen?" He kissed your other cheek. His lips lingered there and his breath fanned your skin. "How about it?" You responded airily and Dean laughed at your consistent repetition, clearly trying to push his buttons in a way he's grown to love.
Without another word, he slides out of the booth and gently ushers you out, onto your feet, holding your hand firmly in his. With his spare hand, he drops some cash on the table and pulls you to his hip. He walked you both outside, leading you towards his car and you shuddered at the sight. It reminded you of the countless times he'd pick up Sam from school and you'd watch him from afar. The number of fantasies you had of him and that car made your body surge with a fierce, intoxicating need.
He opened his passenger seat and propped you inside, and you obediently admired his every move until he sat behind the wheel. One glimpse of his profile darting from you to the windscreen pushed you off the edge.
"Fuck," you quickly murmured, catching Dean off guard when you abruptly pounced on him, straddling his thighs. You cupped his dome, tugging on his short locks while his hands shot to your waist, dragging you downwards so he could grind into you. You both moaned into the messy kiss, so close to satisfaction, yet so far. He groaned your name when your lips moved to his neck, desperate to leave a mark. He reluctantly tried to halt your attack, but your need overpowered all logic. "I can't wait," he grunted when he wretched your face from his neck. Dean's head thumped against the seat's leather headrest and his eyes were glossy with a sort of determination.
"Get in the back," is all he ordered before he hastily assisted you onto the backseat. He climbed on top of you after grabbing a condom from the glove compartment, following your mouth eagerly, and pecking it a few times as he laid you down. "God you're sexy," he groaned. He then yanked off his jacket and shirt in two swift motions before that familiar smug expression consumed his features. "You're unbelievable," you scoffed and his smirk grew.
"I get that a lot," he commented jokingly and you smacked his side harder than before, displaying your exasperation. He laughed and you threaded your fingers into his hair again to shut him up. His mouth collided with yours, and his hands frantically removed both of your clothes. He sweared loudly when you bucked your hips up and rub his bulge —now covered by his boxers alone. His deep voice let out a surprising whimper when you did it again, this time using your hands to drag him down, clutching his defined hips.
You then had a sudden craving to admit to him how much you longed for this moment, but you opted for: "fuck me." Dean growled into your ear before kissing you rather harshly as he took himself out of his briefs. He cupped your bare breast, which is still partially hidden by your bra since he was too transfixed elsewhere to remove it completely.
When his cock hit your abdomen and he slid on the condom, you hummed a moan, biting your bottom lip in anticipation. "Jesus," he mumbled under his breath when his tip breached your slit. He smoothly glided inside, as if you were two puzzle pieces melding together. Your heart panged and you gasped, while Dean muttered nonsensically. He reared back to look into your eyes once he bottomed out. When he pulled away, his very breath abandoned his lungs as if his soul was now connected to your lips, and you'd be keeping it with you now and forever. For once, he actually felt like putty in someone's hands, and he didn't hate it. Not when you felt like Heaven, after years of experiencing Hellfire.
Underneath him, you remarked on how it felt to finally be touched by Dean... Addictive. Unhurriedly, he guided both your arms above your head, stretching out your spine, and holding your wrists in place with a single hand. The air stilled and you listened to his rapid heartbeats. The tension was palpable as his mouth descended onto yours —quickly going from slow and passionate, to needy and frenzied. Dean suddenly thrust and you yelped, which made him cease his movements immediately. He attempted to pull away from your mouth but you raised your head to pull him back down, unable to do anything else, not with your arms still hoisted above you. You rolled your hips into him and he released a lengthy grunt of approval, clearly understanding that you wanted him to resume his pounding.
He sped up his thrusting and you could barely hold back your cries, loving his strength and weight caging you in, and taking you roughly. Even though his lower half was aggressive, it was still Dean writhing into you, looking down at you with such tenderness, and kissing you in ways that made you hopelessly expect more. At this point, you'd take whatever he'd give you and thank him for it.
"Don't stop," you nearly shouted when your legs begun to shake. He released an animalistic sound, his strokes becoming increasingly choppy. Dean heaves your name, muttering, "You're some kind of fantasy, you know that?" Before you could respond he captured your lips, moaning into your mouth while his fingers slipped between you two. Suddenly his digits rubbed circles onto your clit and you gasped loudly, whining into his all-consuming kiss. You wrapped your legs around his waist and felt Dean smirk, but you couldn’t bring yourself to reprimand him when he makes you reach your climax, which rushes over you like a tidal wave, crashing into shore with a loud sob.
"Fuck," Dean's hips stuttered into you, and his eyes squeezed shut as he came, letting go of your wrists to prop himself up in a plank. He breathed in and out slowly, eyelids eventually fluttering open to witness you already surveying him, entranced by his face when it's full of ecstasy. "That was... Fucking amazing," he panted as he monitored your reddened complexion. You nodded, though you shied away from his gaze, feeling all too vulnerable, afraid that history was repeating itself, and you were already head-over-heels for Dean Winchester.
As your mind wandered into a dark place, Dean's calloused finger pads grabbed your attention when they caressed your jaw, swiping your cheek. "I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did," he chuckled airily to himself before continuing, "and give me a chance to do that again—many, many times."
Now it's his turn to seem sheepish and you laugh, partially in shock. "No strings attached?" You arched a brow as you questioned what you were, despite having not gone on an actual date yet. He displayed a genuine smile as he shook his head no. "I'm already tangled up in them," he confessed with a shrug.
Your heart flipped and you fought to remain stoic. You then lifted your index finger above your nose, right in his eye line. "I'm givin' you one chance... To do that, over and over again," you whispered sensually, biting back your shit-eating grin. A giddy, boyish look took over Dean's face and your laughter burst through, making your core clench around him and he sucked in a sharp breath.
"How about we start that 'one chance' right now?" You purred, smirking at the way his eyes playfully narrowed. "Gladly."
a/n: heyyy!! if y’all liked this check out my ff “to be hunted” on wp!
317 notes · View notes
deanbrainrotwritings · 1 year ago
Text
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— SEMPITERNAL
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SUMMARY : part II of gimme half. vanilla is a basic flavour. but sometimes it’s just the right thing for mornings like this.  
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : none
WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), p in v, smut, unprotected sex, fluff
WORD COUNT : 2.2k
A/N : bring me the horizon song title. ah, the second day of January, getting closer to Dean’s bday, it will be the best day of my life or the worst. I have ocd (so does my mom) so idk what’s normal lmao Xxxx
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It must have all been a dream. 
She would never go to her neighbour’s house. Not when they were supposed to hate each other. Not when it was freezing cold. Not at night. Not close to Christmas…
He was very pretty though, in her dreams. Still, so pretty. Irresistible. Hot. Frustrating. Adorable. A million lovely things. It felt very real. So real. 
His lips. All pink, warm, soft, and sweet. His hands. Rough, warm, calloused, and skilful. His skin. Freckled, covered in scars, tattooed, hot. God… she wanted that in reality, too. To feel it against every inch of her skin once more. She especially wanted what’s between his legs. 
Were her sheets always this cold? This thin and… not downy at all? 
If she could return to her dream. That would be nice. Making friends with her enemy, Dean… Well, making love is more what it was. Very rough, desperate, hot love. 
She grumbled sleepily, lifting the sheet up her body. Trying to get her arms warm, to stop the cold from getting through the openings. Something stopped her, something hard behind her, and she didn’t want to wake up. 
And wait… why was the window in the opposite direction? 
She rubbed her bleary eyes and looked around the unfamiliar room, the beige and white bed sheets that were definitely not hers. The pictures and posters on the walls were unfamiliar…
She sat up on the bed slowly and twisted her body cautiously to peek at whoever was sleeping beside her. 
Her eyes widened, her jaw dropped slightly. 
Dean. 
She shut her mouth and smiled, trying not to laugh at the events that occurred the night before. They were definitely not a dream. For her bravery, she deserved a treat. Maybe six.
He really did look pretty. 
Those muscular arms holding his pillow, skin freckled and lightly tanned. The sheets clung tightly to his hips, that tiny, narrow waist of his. So jealous. And… oh, God, he wasn’t wearing anything. 
His lips were parted slightly, pink and swollen from sleep, maybe from all the kissing they were doing the previous night. He had the prettiest lashes, so long, thick, curled naturally. What even was he? Those gorgeous freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. His messy hair looked so soft. 
Peaceful. Relaxed. 
The sunlight made him look even more divine. Honey and gold, a verdant forest, a soft flower in a meadow. Springtime in the winter. That was Dean.
She looked around his room, she was completely naked. Some warm clothes and fluffy socks to keep the cold at bay would be nice. 
She opened his drawer to look for some socks, sliding the top drawer out. She blinked at the contents inside. A vibrating cock ring stood out from the other things inside, in rose pink. She chuckled. There were a few candy wrappers, jolly ranchers, unused condoms in the front, a steel gun over books. Cute. There were old movie tickets, a Bob Seger cassette tape, Crime and Punishment, Persuasion, The Lord of the Rings, and 11/22/63. He’s so hot.
She closed it quietly and opened the second one. One half had perfectly folded, plain black t-shirts and the other half had only white t-shirts. She pulled out a black shirt from the top and put it on carefully. She took a deep breath of the scent of the softener that remained and sighed. Yum.
She opened the third and final one. Finally socks. They were neatly organised, folded, tightly fitting in rows and columns. Blue penguin socks caught her attention, but so did the pink ones with otters, the purple ones with avocados, and the green ones with giraffes. Could he get any more endearing?
She picked the boring black ones at the back. What if the fun socks were special to him? 
She got out of his bed, walking quietly across his very cute bedroom, and into the bathroom. His very clean bathroom. 
She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Thank God for the shower she took with Dean last night. No raccoon face from her eyeliner this morning. But she was definitely sore. Good sore. 
He’s so… hospitable. And a billion other things, too many lovely things to list. She laughed quietly to herself, turning the water on in the sink to wash her face. 
Maybe she shouldn’t get too ahead of herself with these thoughts and feelings. Last night was fast, blurry, heated, and emotional. Things could change, she knew that better than anyone. Morning clarity. After sex clarity? Who knows.  
It would be impossible not to have marks over her body after the night they had. She turned the water off, gently shook her hands in the sink, and used the shirt to pat her face dry. Curiously, she kept the shirt up, and stared down at her body. 
There were bruises on her hips the shape of his fingers. And Reddish-purplish marks on her breasts, sternum, and stomach, even higher up on her collarbone. There were bite marks on her shoulders that stung to touch-
“Sorry about those,” Dean’s raspy morning voice made her jump. She dropped the shirt and crossed her arms over her chest, smiling timidly at Dean. She didn’t know why. After the hot night they had together, being seen naked the next morning should be the last thing to make her this flustered. 
“I’m not getting in the way of your secret escape, am I?” He changed the subject, teasingly smirking at her. He pushed himself off the doorframe. Unfortunately, he was wearing a soft grey robe tied loosely around his waist, some grey slippers, and his hair was a cute-slash-sexy mess. 
“No…” she replied softly, running her fingers through her somewhat messy hair. It still felt wet… maybe she should have stopped Dean from throwing her into his bed after their shower, but he seemed more than thrilled to bury his face between her legs. God, that stubble on his jaw felt amazing between her sensitive thighs. 
“Good,” he mumbled tiredly, smiling down at her. 
He was irresistible. She could already feel heat forming between her legs, wetness seeping from her entrance, and her heart pound quickly in the casket of bones the closer he got. 
Maybe it was those pretty green eyes of his, the burning fire in his gaze simmering deep within the golden specks. He checked her out from head to toe slowly, shamelessly, devouringly. Why would he have any shame after the night they had?
Her body reacted to him embarrassingly fast. Like two atoms, she ached to be fused together with him. Being in his presence just felt right. It felt fiery, more now than last night, more than when he was asleep. When he was asleep, he was more than adorable, but now… She wanted him on her again. 
Her skin burned like acid rain had dripped down over her body, but it was just his hungry eyes. It was the memory of his mouth, his tongue, his lips, and his teeth. All marking her, making her his own.
Her lungs ached for slower, deeper breaths as he sucked the oxygen from the room with that deep, husky voice of his. He left her breathless, with those soft eyes and tender smile.
All he did was put toothpaste on the brush he gave her last night. He smiled when he gave it to her, his fingers brushed against hers, like jumpstarting the dead battery of a car. 
She tried to hide the sharp inhale when she took the toothbrush from him by biting her lip. He seemed to like her reaction, a smile tugged at his lips, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to and neither did she. 
She watched him do the same to his own toothbrush and slowly, wordlessly, he started to brush his teeth. 
“Cute cock ring,” she told him casually, and began brushing her own teeth. He almost spit out the toothpaste and saliva when he laughed, a very beautiful laugh that made her insides warm and melty like cheese in a burger, or butter on pancakes, or whipped cream on waffles. 
She was hungry. 
“You looked through my stuff,” he stated, a mouthful of toothpaste still in his mouth. He continued to brush his teeth, staring at her the whole time rather than looking into the mirror. His eyes were sparkling, and not just because of the cold winter sunlight. 
“I was cold,” she shrugged, then spit out what she had left before continuing to brush. He spit everything out at last, regarding her with a smirk. 
“Guess I shoulda been a better host.” Dean finished brushing his teeth and she did soon after as well, waiting for him to finish freshening up from the doorframe.
“You more than made up for it last night,” she grinned, catching the smirk on his face, the sudden dreaminess that washed over his green eyes. Her insides twisted excitedly and he finally looked at her with those soft verdurous eyes.
“Are you still cold?” He teased when he finished, reaching for her waist and gently tugging her forward, and away from the doorway. She shook her head ‘no’ and smiled up at him. “Too bad,” he hummed, biting his lip. “You chose boring socks,” he pouted, then leaned down to kiss her. 
She smiled against his lips. The kiss somehow felt more… warm than last night, and… well, like the birth of a star. Warmth bloomed in her chest, like a flower kissed by sunlight in the morning. It was like being reborn, like breathing the cleanest air.
“I was trying to be considerate,” she mumbled when he pulled away from her lips. He tilted his head with a confused smile, and moved her backwards, leading her back to his bed.
“Considerate?” Dean slowly lifted the shirt, his fingertips teasing her warm skin as he slid it up her body. 
“Read my mind,” she whispered, throwing the clean shirt on his desk when it was around her wrists above her head. 
“I don’t read minds,” he grinned down at her, pecking her lips. She hummed softly, amused just because he made her smile, and untied his robe. He humoured her anyway, staring at her as she climbed onto the bed, her soft hands moving up his torso slowly exploring, memorising, worshipping. “You… are so cute,” he teased, leaning forward to kiss her again. 
She pressed her lips against his, moaning quietly against his mouth. She pushed the robe off his shoulders and he threw it over the small, sage-coloured sofa he had placed by the window that was opened to her house. 
“That’s not reading my mind.” She buried her fingers in his hair and began crawling backwards, her warm tongue tracing his plump lips. He cursed softly against her mouth, kissing her back with as much force, and climbed up the bed with her.
“I told you,” he panted, lowering his body over hers once her head fell onto the pillows, “I don't read minds.” She pulled Dean down, closer to her, arms circled around his neck, legs parted for his hips to fit perfectly in between.
“I think you see through me,” she whispered, lapping at the red mark positioned on his pulse, making him moan softly. She couldn’t believe she felt insecure about it at first, but now, it was hot that he could read her, that he could figure her out in seconds. For however long he's been hunting, she had no doubt he was much more clever than he led on. 
“You think wearing a pair of what might be my favourite socks will make me… sad?” He tried, barely moving away from her mouth. She snickered upon releasing how ridiculous it sounded out loud, she nodded anyway.
“I’d be upset,” she shrugged, sliding her hands down his back, his taut muscles shifting beneath her hands. 
“Exactly why I said you’re cute,” he told her softly, rocking his hips against hers. She shook her head in denial, dragging her lips back up to his. His cock slid through her soaked folds, teasingly nudging her entrance, tortuously rubbing her clit. “You hungry?” He asked, leaning on one arm placed by her head.
“Dirty intent with that question?” She teased, nibbling his bottom lip. He laughed deeply, pressing his cock into her, slowly pushing in. 
“Wanted to make ya breakfast,” he huffed, moaning with her when he pulled out gently and pushed back into her warmth. “So… breakfast?” His hand travelled freely down her sides, tenderly brushing against the bruises on her skin. 
“Only if you’ll make me breakfast often,” she played quietly. With a husky moan, he slid his hands back up her sides, thumbing her sensitive nipples. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, smiling at her words, the tightening of her walls around him taking him to the brink of delectable release and delirious insanity.
“Only if you’re mine,” he rasped, taking her wrist to slide his hand into hers, pressing it into the pillow, and above her head. 
“Yes,” she whispered, squeezing his hand, slipping her other hand into his hair. He lifted his face to stare into her sincere gaze, brought his freehand between their bodies to rub circles on her clit. 
“To breakfast or being mine?” Dean inquired, rolling his hips swiftly into her. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, keeping him close, and drawing his lips closer with her hand clutching the short hair behind his head.
“Yes,” she murmured, drawing a soft laugh from him as she pressed a deep kiss to his warm lips.
➥ summer’s stellar gaze
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roonyxx · 7 months ago
Text
Healing Love: part 1
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Summary: You have a normal life as a nurse, and you are content with it. But then a storm called Dean Winchester rolls into it and you get swept away by his charms. But secrets linger and threaten to drown you both.
Pairing: Dean x Witch!nurse!reader
Word count: 2084
Chapter warnings: fluff, wounds and medical stuff (i am no professional and have no idea what the real treatments are)
A/N:  This series is dedicated to @deans-spinster-witch she's always been very supportive of my work and I found that she deserved a little treat. She gave me an idea for a new series and i really liked it! so this one is for you @deans-spinster-witch! thank you so much for supporting me! I choose to go with Quinn, i hope that’s okay for you ;)
support me :)
Healing Love Masterlist
My Masterlist
Deviders made by @firefly-graphics, give her some love!
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Y/n Pov
You knew you had to buy a new clips for his collar. You don’t have time for him to chase squirrels, you hurry after your dog. Who, usually, listens very well but decided that today he does not…
“Quinn! Get back here!” You jog after him in the street.
It’s the main street, god you hope he doesn’t run into oncoming traffic…
“Quinn!”
You see him running right up to a tall man eating a burger. Which contains Quinn’s biggest addiction, pickles..
You try to yell at the man to warn him but Quinn is faster and jumps up at him, hitting the man right into the thighs and making him loose his balance and fall backwards.
You run faster to get to them, and grab Quinn’s collar as soon as you can grip it and tug him off the man.
“Bad Quinn! oh god, I’m so so-” You look up at the man and are completely lost for words.
Before you is by far the most gorgeous specimen of men you have ever seen.
His green eyes captivate you and pull you in like a new point of gravity. You have never seen this colour of green before in someone’s eyes. They have the colour of forest lit up by sunbeams peeking through the foliage.
His face is dusted entirely with freckles who are more concentrated on his nose and cheeks. His jaw is strong and sharp. And his hair is a dark blond and wildly tossed around by Quinn’s nose currently buried deep within the strands.
“Quinn!” You tug him back to free this beautiful stranger of the assault.
You offer him your other free hand, “I am so sorry, Sir.”
He gives his hand and grabs yours tightly. You tug him to a standing position.
“Oh wow, you got quiet a grip there.” He smile and looks at you, his eyes scanning your face and then quickly going down your body.
“Are you hurt? I am so sorry… Quinn never is like this usually. Are you hurt?” You ask him.
“It’s okay, no really, I should have paid attention.” He glances at your dog and smiles, “He’s lucky he’s cute,” then looks back at you, “And that his owner is cute too.”
You don’t know what to say, your face goes red.
He holds out his hand, “I’m Dean.”
You take his hand and shake it, “Y/n, let me offer you a new burger, I insist.”
Dean looks down at where his burger fells and Quinn is trying to get it. You tug him back.
“It’s okay, I take it as a sign that maybe I should cut down on burgers a little.” He chuckles softly. “But I’m more than okay with taking you out for a coffee, Y/n.”
You like the way he says your name way too much…
“I-“ how can this gorgeous man be asking you out? He seems the type to date super models, your curves are a little more… accentuated than other females. But they help you with the heavy lifting in your job.
Your job that you are currently late for, you gasp and check your watch.
“Shit! I- I would love to but I’m already running late. I need to drop of Quinn before I go to the hospital.”
“Oh right.” He points to your uniform, “I will let you go then, but can I have your number? Perhaps we can do a raincheck?”
He gives me the most dazzling smile and you temporarily forget to breathe.
You make Quinn sit between your legs and clamp him in place. With your now free hand you grab his and grab a pen from one of your many pockets and scribble your number down on his palm.
“There, I’m down for a raincheck.” You smile and grab Quinn’s collar.
“I’ll wait for your call, Dean.” You say as you start walking away.
“I will!” he yells back.
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It’s been 3 days and you still didn’t receive a call. You already gave up hope after two days.
Are you surprised? Not really, he’s way out of your league.
So when your phone lights up with an unknown number the third day at almost midnight you pick up thinking it is a spammer.
“Im not interested in what you’re selling.” You answer.
“I- uhm, is this Y/n? It’s me Dean.” He sounds a little out of breath?
“Dean! Oh shit sorry, I have a lot of spammers who call me. Are you alright?” Maybe he’s the workout type of guy?
“I-“ a low grunt that instantly puts you on alert makes you sit up from your couch.
“Dean?”
“I wanted to call you sooner but something got in between, I’m sorry for calling so late but I’m driving around and I might need your nurses skills…”
He sounds in pain… and he’s driving?
“What happened? On what street are you?” You ask in a hurry.
You jump up and put the phone between your cheek and shoulder while you get your first aid kit out and ready.
He gives you the street name and you direct him towards your place.
“Tell me what happened.”
“I have a cut on my shoulder, not very deep but I’m bleeding and will need stitches.” He answers while you hear his car roar in the background.
You note how he doesn’t tell you what happened. But the info he gave is exactly what you need. You start prepping your stitch kit and gauze.
“My house is the one with the green car in front.” You say, and you can hear his car turning into your street.
“I see it.”
You run outside, hanging up the phone as he parks up your driveway.
If he wasn’t bleeding, you would admire his beautiful car. But there are more important things happening now.
You grab the door handle of the driver side and pull open the door.
“Shit.” You say when you see his sleeve drenched in blood, “ You said it wasn’t that deep!”
“It looks worse than it is.” He grunts while turning off the car and grabbing the keys.
You carefully help him out of his car and into your house.
Your hands start tingling at the smell of the blood. The magic inside you is screaming to heal this man, to knit his skin back together and fight of any risk of infection. But you don’t let it surface. You can deal with this the normal way.
You sit him down in your kitchen chair and cut away his shirt.
“Shouldn’t you buy me a drink before ripping of my clothes?” he tries to joke but you can see him wincing and you nod towards the pill and glass with water on the table.
“Take the med, it will help with the pain.”
He takes it without hesitation.
You look closely at the wound while putting on gloves and begin to clean it out.
It is deeper than you thought but stitches will be enough to close it. You do wonder how it happened. It’s a very long, clean cut. Your best guess would be a sword cut.
“So you’re a knight or something? Deep breath, I will start stitching” you warn before you pinch the needle through his skin and begin to sew his skin back together.
“A knight?” he wonders.
“It looks like you got cut by a sword.” You say while focusing carefully. You notice he doesn’t even flinch when you thread the small string through his skin.
“A katana actually, how do you know?” You can feel the prickles on your face from his intense stare searching your face.
“I’ve seen a lot of wounds at work, after a while you start to recognize them.”
“Oh yeah, that makes sense, how long have you been a nurse?” He asks you.
“Seven years in November.”
“Do you like it?” He tilts his head in question.
“It’s hard, physically, emotionally,” you sigh and make a final knot and cut off the thread, then start to wrap up as much as you can, “but yes, I love it, helping people, it’s who I am.”
“There, all finished. No tugging, keep the bandage on for at least a day. Try to keep it dry. The stitches can come out in 10 days.” You explain to him.
“Oh wow, that was fast. Okay, no tugging, no water.” he smiles, “Thank you so much.”
“I guess it makes us even for Quinn attacking your burger.” You chuckle.
At the sound of his name his familiar tipper tapper feet come running towards you and gently nuzzle your thigh. You tug off your gloves and reach down to stroke his black and white head. He peeks up at you with slightly greying eyes. Damn cataracts. He’s a little old, but he’s still perfect. He’s a medium sized dog, a border collie corgie mix. Perfect for training, and he listens well, if… there are no burgers involved.
Dean smiles at Quinn and rubs his face, “He’s so cute. I can’t blame him for wanting a burger. I would take down someone for it too.” He chuckles.
Dean glances up at me, “So I have to wait 10 days to see you again?” He asks.
“You don’t have to wait, I could change the bandage tomorrow if you’d like.” You smile and start putting away all your things.
“I’d like that, but only if you come like that.” He gives you a knowing grin and points to your Viking pyjamas.
You turn red as a beet, with his urgent call you forgot all about the way you were dressed. Your pyjamas are simple, a t-shirt and shorts, an ode to your favorite TV series. You’ve had them for years, they’re all worn out and sit tightly on your body.
With no bra, you can assure there is little left to the imagination…
“Sorry- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Dean quickly says “You look beautiful, like really.”
You start smiling at the blush that makes his freckles stand out. Even his ears, that you now noticed are slightly pointy, turn red.
“Thank you, sorry for your shirt…” you tug at his cut of shoulder part.
He shrugs, “It was old.”
You two stare at each other as the tension rises. You glance at his lips, pink and plump, perfect for kisses and many other things.
When you look up you can see his eyes were wandering towards your chest, to your hardened nipples.
He clears his throat and stands up suddenly.
“Thank you, but I should get going. It’s already late and my brother will be worried.”
“Right, yes of course, I have an early shift tomorrow so I shouldn’t be up so late. Can you drive? I can give you a ride?” You offer.
“I can, it feels much better already.” He moves his arm to proof it.
“Here,” you hand him a box with a few meds “One a day for 3 days.”
He takes it and puts in his pocket, thanking you for it.
You guide him towards the door and open it for him to leave.
“So… I see you tomorrow? At seven?”
You smile, “At seven works for me.”
He’s lingering in your door, his eyes on your face.
You take a step closer but don’t move more.
You want to kiss him…
“I – uhm..” he starts.
Quinn takes that as his cue to jump and put his front paws on the back of your knees, making you stumble into Dean. You put your hands on his chest to catch yourself.
“Oh! I’m so so-“
Your sentence is cut off by a pair of perfect lips, slanting over yours. His hand cups the side of your face while his tongue brushes your bottom lip, asking for entrance.
Which you grant him. You can’t help the moan that escapes you when his tongue dances with yours.
This kiss feels like the first rays of sun after a long winter. It’s warm, soothing, and hints at hot evenings and sweltering nights.
And then a cloud passes over and the heat slowly disappears as he pulls back.
A low whine falls from your lips as you try to chase his lips.
A chuckle sounds in your ears and makes you look up in those incredible eyes.
“At seven. It’s late and you have an early shift.” He smiles.
You don’t mind the heat crawling over your face and nod as he steps back to his car.
“At seven, drive safe, Dean.” You say when he gets inside.
You stay in your door opening until his car turns out of the street, you turn, close your door and look at Quinn.
“You sneaky little match maker.” You chuckle and bend down to pet him.
His tail is wagging excitedly.
“Thank you, Quinn.”
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Forever Tags 2024: @jay-and-dean @flamencodiva @snowlovespie @awkward-and-indecisive @hobby27
Dean tags 2024: @akshi8278 @pink-sparkly-witch @verytoadpapersoul @eevvvaa
Healing Love tags: @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573
send me an ask if you want to be on any of my tag lists! (or if you want to be removed)
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willowswiththorns · 8 months ago
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Omgggg someone that writes Gilmore girls??? Could you do something for Dean Forester there’s like, nothingggg 👉🏻👈🏻 anything
Yeah totally! I’m gonna do a fluff A-Z but if you want any other ideas feel free to commission in! I hope you enjoy! - Willow
Dean Forester fluff A-Z headcannons
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A = Affection (are they affectionate with you?)
Very affectionate
loves to give you a lot of physical affection ( hugs, cuddling, little kisses when wanting to give you attention)
But I definitely think gift giving is more of his love language
Dude literally started building a car for Rory only 3 months into their relationship
He’s definitely the type to spoil you in gifts , you’ll find a lot of handmade little trinkets like jewelry for you to wear.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Okay we’ve seen his other friends like with Todd, but definitely think he’s the type of friend that doesn’t require a lot of energy with.
He’d be the type of friend who’d help you with any maintenance around your house or car. He doesn’t want you having to pay anyone for work he’d do for free.
The friendship would start at school, he’d catch you reading a book or just sitting alone.
He’d watch you for the span of a few days, seeing you completing immersed in your book or drawing before having the nerve to come over and talk to you.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
feel like in the beginning of the relationship, he’d only be the big spoon in order to comfort you.
Definitely later on the relationship he’d ease up and slowly grow okay to being the little spoon.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Seeing how his married life with Lindsey was, he’d definitely try to be the provider in the relationship.
He wouldn’t be opposed to be stay at home and cooking and cleaning while he works, but he does seem the type to At least try and help around the house when asked to.
Let’s just hope that marriage doesn’t turn out like his and Lindsey 💀
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
He’s definitely the type to try to hold off talking about his problems until eventually he blows up
It’s been seen in both his relationship with Rory and with Lindsey that when there are arguments, he tends to let out his bottled up emotions .
He’s definitely the type to have a big argument with you, and in the heat of the moment, he dumps you.
Instant regret on his part but what’s said is done.
He’d definitely be avoiding you for the first few weeks out of heartbreak ( even though he’s the dummy who dumped you)
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Ummm he’d want to get married very fast and we all already know how he is about commitment 💀 ( just keep Rory away from that man fr and you might be safe)
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
He’s kinda emotionally here and there, but he’s very physically loving as stated before. He’s the type to hold your hand and wrap his arms around you.
Emotionally it’s 50/50. Sometimes he can be a bit immature when handling any emotions that are more leaning to sad or angry.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
When first being friends, he definitely gives side hugs since he’s not all too comfortable with being physical.
When you two have been in a relationship for a while however,He gives big hugs, very warm and welcoming.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
Definitely three months into the relationship, he tends to rush a bit but the feelings are true.
He definitely wants you to know his feelings are there not just by actions but words as well.
He wants you to feel the same and let him know that you love him too
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
He gets jealous very easily, and WILL get physical with the person he’s jealous of, especially if that person makes you cry.
Man will fight and win.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
He kisses on your lips, your cheek, your forehead, your nose. He likes peppering you with kisses when you’re alone
Dean would like to be kisses on the cheek or on the lips, you can’t really reach his forehead unless you’re the same height. He wants as much physical attention as he gives you.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
He’s pretty good with children, having a little sister and all helps build some form of patience.
Definitely the type to swing them around or put a child on his shoulders to make them happy.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Dean wouldn’t want to get up early, he’d cuddle with you and have the blankets wrapped around you so you can’t escape his morning nap.
He’d make some coffee for you and give you his shirt to walk around the house with. He desperately would want you wearing his clothes.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Movie nights for sure. He’d buy some food and you both would hang out and watch any movie of you’re choosing ( that or he’d pick one of his favorites)
You’d both watch quietly unless one of you breaks the silence, then there’s chatting for the rest of the night.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
Once he feels comfortable with you, he’ll open up about more personal emotions and thoughts he has.
Overall though he’ll tell you bits and pieces about his daily events.
He’s very much a guy who will tell you anything you want to know, but more personal emotions he might hold onto for a bit.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Very easily angered.
He tends to blow up because he bottles his emotions in most of the time.
If there’s communication and no accusations then the chances of him blowing up are slim to none.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
He’ll definitely remember little things about you that you won’t even remember telling him.
If you like sci-fi or cars or books, he’ll keep that in mind on an outting.
He’s definitely the type to find stuff you like and gift it to you.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
Definitely the first time you told him you loved him.
He’d try to not be emotional, but he’ll remember looking into your eyes as you dropped those three small words onto him.
You’d definitely put a stupid, goofy smile on his face now anytime he thinks about that night.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
He’s super protective!
Can and will beat the crap out of someone if anyone tries to disrespect you.
Dean will not tolerate anyone disrespecting his partner or making them uncomfortable.
He would 100% would go to comfort you after the discourse and make sure you’re okay.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Dean 👏🏻Forester👏🏻 puts👏🏻 in 👏🏻effort 👏🏻like 👏🏻no 👏🏻other! 👏🏻
Romantic outings
Building you a car from scratch
Would take you out around the town
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
He blow up very quickly
He also will try to hold it in so him blowing up will be very very stressful
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
He doesn’t really care too much how he looks
He just doesn’t wanna look dumb or uncool around you
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Very much so, whenever the relationship between you both grows, the more clingier he gets.
You’ll get calls and voicemails whenever you both aren’t together.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
He has most definitely at one point practiced kissing his pillow before trying to kiss you.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
He wouldn’t like someone who’s pushy or unhygienic.
He’s not into someone who doesn’t want to put effort into the relationship
And he’s not into someone who’d use him to get to others.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
He snores and drools in his sleep
He’s definitely the type to love tummy time ( sleep on his tummy and sprawled out )
You will probably be crushed underneath his weight.
I hoped you enjoyed!! Commission me for whatever characters you want! I’m mostly doing A-Z headcannons until I’m comfortable enough to write . Thank you !!! - Tulip
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starfilmz · 4 months ago
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THERE SHE GOES — DEAN F.
⤷ Just tooth-rotting fluff of you talking to Dean Forrester for the first time. ᡣ𐭩
cw: fem!reader, so much fluff and sweetness, just reader being a girl, this is s1 dean since he’s the only i’ve seen, no rory au lmao, unbeta’d so grammar and spelling mistakes are probably there, english is not my first language :,) banner || gif
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“Here are the keys, darlin’.” The item jingled in between Ms. Patty’s fingers as it landed on your palms, barely catching it from falling on the piles of snow on the ground. You were never really the graceful one. It took you about a year of living in Stars Hallow to get used to Ms. Patty’s natural whimsicalness and spontaneous energy—you’re not getting any smoother by the days.
You shoved the keys down your pocket, watching as she walked down the small set of stairs. “You’re closing a bit earlier today. Something happened?”
“Tomorrow’s Bid on a Basket, honey! I gotta make my own set for the wonderful event—maybe I’ll be able to enjoy some of my fresh cakes with a fine man,” Ms. Patty winked, giggling to herself. “A lot of people are joinin', I heard. Are you not participating?”
Your mouth contorted into a mixture of a smile and a frown—if that was even possible—as you awkwardly chuckled. “Probably not this time, Ms. Patty.”
As much as you wished to join the fundraiser, most of your free time in the morning was consumed with homework and your jobs. Your mom’s decision to switch jobs last month caused a bit of a financial strain in the family, resulting in you taking on more jobs as she adjusted to her new work.
“I’m working a shift at Luke’s tomorrow. I won’t have the time to make the food and hang out with the lucky bidder.” Your lips formed into a straight line as you looked at her. “Who’s always been my mom, anyway.”
“Don’t be so down, honey. I’m sure there’s a special boy who’s willing to pay for your basket.”
“That’s not—”
“I heard the new boy in your school started working in the grocery store a few weeks ago. Maybe he had some paychecks to spare.”
You snorted at her words. “Ms. Patty, c’mon.”
She had a proud expression as she finally took off, leaving you by yourself at the studio. “See you tomorrow, honey.” You waved goodbye as she left. She was truly an unpredictable woman—you would be lying if you said you didn’t wish to have at least a quarter of her confidence.
You knew of this ‘new boy’ she was talking about. Stars Hallow High School was not big enough for mystery; everyone knows each other if not by name, face, or by being their parents’ friend’s kid. Dean Forester joined a month into the semester, and you were surprised he wasn’t as popular as you expected him to be. But, at the same time, if it weren’t your shared classes with him, you barely saw the boy outside the building.
Lane, one of your childhood friends, was particularly fond of Dean’s friend, Todd. There were moments where you wished you could join on in your friend’s excitement, but—as Lane had commented several times—you were too busy making money to even notice the boys around you. But one single afternoon in between classes, you caught yourself staring far too intensely at Dean when he passed by the hallway when he suddenly met your eyes. You couldn’t recall what you did when it happened, just that it resulted in a startled Lane and a booming sound of your locker closing.
Have you been purposely avoiding him ever since? Yes. It’s not like the two of you talked anyway. Though it didn’t help when you began noticing him in Doose’s market more often than you liked.
You sighed, shaking your head at the one-sided chaos you’ve managed to create in the midst of the boy’s arrival. You weren’t exactly “boy crazy” as Lane’s mom would call the girls in your school, but you’re literally just a girl.
“God forbid I find a guy attractive.” You mumbled to yourself as you began to close the doors of Ms. Patty’s studio. The children had ballet today, so there were twice the amount of tutus inside; an array of pinks, blues, and whites decorated the wooden floors.
As you cleaned up the rest of the clutter, closing boxes and stacking them in the same way you saw them last night, you noticed one particular box was by the door, the heaviest one.
Inside were miscellaneous items (you’re sure some of them were lost as well) and you’ve experienced several aging moments after carrying them all the way to where they should be in the studio—the opposite side of the room.
You stifled a sigh, rolling up the sleeves of your sweater as you crouched down. Whatever was inside the box, new or not, doubled the weight you carried yesterday, and you prayed this wouldn’t be the reason you’ll hurt your back.
Just as you were about to put your hands on the bottom of the box, you heard footsteps on the wooden stairs; one of the hinges on the doors creaked. You had no time to look up and see who it was before you heard the unfamiliar voice.
“Need any help?” Without warning, a face you’ve been dreading to see came into view. His hair fell on both sides of his head as he lowered himself in front of you and the large box.
Dean grinned, his pearly whites showing themselves, and God, why did he have such eye-catching dimples?
You were sure something in your head was short-circuited because of how much you stumbled on your reply. “I- yes, I guess, if you want to- it’s totally up to you, if you want… to help.”
He chuckled at your response, and you can’t really blame him for that, but you decided to ignore the gnawing embarrassment you felt as you laughed along with him. It was the first you’ve ever heard his laugh—his voice in general, actually—and somehow, with your logic, you thought it fitted him perfectly.
You saw his arm move around behind the box in between the two of you, as if looking for something underneath. Dean still had a smile on his face as he readjusted himself on the floor, mimicking your crouched position. It took you by surprise to feel his hand on yours, and you had to fight back the urge to flinch.
“Here, take both of your hands under these corners, and I’ll take the opposite,” Dean instructed, moving your hands into position. You brushed off the thought of how his hands consumed yours. “then we’ll stand up on three.”
You nodded, feeling the weight of the box shift as he adjusted his grip. “One… two… three.” The two of you rose together, the box hovering between you, expectedly heavy but manageable as you moved in sync.
The two of you placed the box on the ground with a huff. You had to stretch your back as you stood up. Dean was doing the same thing, though his expression seemingly filled with amusement. He doesn’t say anything and you raised an eyebrow at this.
“What?” You said, pulling down your sleeves.
Dean shook his head. “It’s nothing. I, um, wasn’t expecting to see you here. Do you work for Ms. Patty?”
You caught the way he changed the subject, but decided to leave it alone for now. “Aren’t we all?”
This caused a chuckle from him as he scratched the back of his neck. “That’s true. I still haven’t thanked her for getting me a job at Doose’s.”
Dean followed you around the studio as you continued to pick up props and tutus off of the floor. He would grab what looked out of place and parroted where you’d place them. You didn’t protest at his presence—as much as you wanted to for the sake of your own mental health—and allowed him to help along. Besides, you didn’t have the heart to kick him out, and while your brain protested, your heart wasn’t exactly against Dean.
“The best thank you you could give her is probably keeping the job she gave you,” you joked and followed up with, “and bid on her basket.”
As you chucked the last baton inside with the others, you turned around and almost bumped into Dean with how close he was.
“Wish I could, but I was told to go do a quick morning shift just in case people would do their last minute baking.” He tilted his head slightly, his voice filled with humor.
“Sounds great. Let me know if you need a morning boost; I’ll be at Luke’s serving the best coffee around.”
Dean nodded, a grin making its way to his face, and said, “I’ll make sure to visit.” There was a few seconds of silence before he picked up his eyes to look at you. “You’re not going to do a basket?”
“No, not this year. Life’s been busting my tail lately, so I don’t really have the time.” You shrugged, putting your hands behind your back as you awkwardly leaned against one of the wooden boxes.
“That’s a shame,” Dean replied, walking over to your side to rest his back on one of the boxes as well. Your shoulders touched—specifically your shoulder against the side of his upper arm—and it all dawned on you at how tall he was.
You turned your head to look at him, failing to hide your surprise when he was already looking over at you.
“A shame? How so?”
“I’d bid the highest, for sure. Just hanging out with your famous cupcakes Lane talked about.”
You’ve recalled several instances in your life when you were physically stunned at a person, but none of them could compare to what’s happening. Dean’s eyes were still on you, waiting for a reaction, a response, literally anything, and yet you just stood there like a flustered child receiving your first love letter.
It’s a lot more important to remember that you’ve never spoken to this boy before. You knew one day your worlds would collide eventually in the small town of Stars Hollow, but you’ve never realized it was happening right under your nose.
And since when Dean and Lane talked?
You and her were always attached to the hip, telling each other every single little detail about the in-between moment of the day when the two of you weren’t together. She’s never mentioned talking to Dean about you.
“You don’t need to spend money to hang out with me.” was the next best thing of a response you could think of. “I mean, you’re doing it right now.”
Dean chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“And if you wanted to try my cookies, try visiting Luke’s,” you added, having a little bit more confidence in your tone this time. “But you have to buy them at the exact time we opened; there’s a reason why Lane calls it famous.”
A grin was on your face as soon as you heard his laugh. Your previous panic seemed to die down as a calm silence washed over you two. The doors to the studio were still wide open, letting in the cold breeze of the night brush past you and Dean.
The sweater you wore didn’t help your spine from shivering. You wore whatever you saw first in your closet when Ms. Patty called, and you weren’t exactly planning to stay for this long.
The sound of rustling made you look over at Dean. “What are you doing?”
He took his leather jacket off of him, that boyish smile on his face again, as he placed it on your shoulder. “I heard it’s going to be especially cold tonight.”
You made no effort to protest as his hands gently tucked the jacket on your shoulders, brushing some of your hair on the back of your ears. The freezing temperature inside the studio only made the heat on your cheeks twice as noticeable.
Dean patted you down, in attempt to warm you up, before retracting his hands to his side. “Better?”
You snuggled further into the leather jacket, taking in the familiar musk you’ve been smelling since the boy got here. “Yeah. Thank you, Dean.”
Maybe skipping one shift at Luke’s wouldn’t hurt.
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s7nburn · 2 months ago
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Polaroids
Sam Winchester x gn!reader
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Summary: You and Sam decided to take a short walk, admiring the scenery around you two, you decided to take some cute pictures. :)
Warnings: None really, fluff, kissing, just super fluffy and cute and corny and adorable.
A/N: I want to cry I love Sam so much this is what I dream about when I fall asleep. Also ik that this is short but I found this prompt and thought it was a cute idea <3
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It was a chilly autumn afternoon, the wind brushing against the red, orange, and brown leaves. You had suggested that you and Sam should take a walk, Sam had been really stressed out with research lately you thought some alone one would do you both some good.
You zipped your dark tan jacket up, grabbing your brown leather cross body bag over you body, and leading Sam out the door. You had to basically push him out of the dingy motel room, the book he was reading seemed to be glued to his hands.
"C'mon," you beg, dragging the word out. He groans, finally walking out the door, holding you hand as you two continue to walk away from the room.
After about 20 minutes, you and Sam reach a beautiful field, you gasp, and let go of Sam's arm to reach into your bag to grab your camera. Sam looks at you in awe, he loves how infatuated you are with nature, always saying how cool that random field was when you, Sam, and Dean were on a road trip, or the way every time you saw a pretty flower you would rip it out of the ground and hand it to him, laughing about how it was a late birthday gift.
You quickly snap a photo of the field of grass, capturing the forest in the background. As your waiting for the photo to be ready, you grab Sam's hand and lead him into the field, "what are you doing?" He laughs as you two run into the grass, "admiring the world." You reply, looking into his eyes, little did he know you were talking about admiring him.
"Here, lemme take a picture." Sam says abruptly, holding out his hand, ready for you to hand him the camera, which you did. Without warning, he takes a picture of you, after realizing that he took that picture, you try to grab the camera back from him, he dodges your small hands, running away. You begin to chase after him.
"Come back!" You yell, giggling. Sam continues to run away, unexpectedly, he trips. You both burst out into laughter, mostly you. He turns onto his back, the laughter dying down, he tries to grab the camera that had fell as the same time as him, but unfortunately for him, you happened to already have it in your hands.
"Oh, c'mon" he chuckles, smiling. Before he can even blink, you take a picture of him. His beautiful smile grows even bigger. You finally put the camera back in your bag, looking down at him, you lean in for a quick kiss. Pecking his soft pink lips, he grabs the side of your face, moving the hair in your face behind your ear. "What are you doing?" You ask.
"Admiring my world."
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raz-writes-the-thing · 10 months ago
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Polish and Shine (Supernatural One-Shot)
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Sam Winchester x GN!Reader / requests are open
Summary: Sam chews on his nails a lot. Too much. You come up with a plan to break the habit.
Fic type: comfort, fluff
CW: this lil fic contains mentions of Sam wanting to explore his gender : ) not much, just mentions of him enjoying feeling feminine (please be gentle with me, this one has a lil piece of me in it).
SPN: @wereallbrokenangels @nervoussystemss (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It's not something you noticed a lot at first. To be quite honest, your social awareness wasn't the best, and looking at people head-on was something you struggled with even after you got to know someone.
But you did start noticing it. It seemed that he did it more at night when it was just him and his thoughts and the big dark room lit up only by his laptop at the table. On a side note, he was going to ruin his eyesight if he kept that up.
But he also did it in the Impala, or after a disturbing interview, or even just when Dean was late back from some girl or guy's place he picked up at the bar.
Chewing his nails... Sam was always chewing on his nails. You understood why, of course. It was an anxiety thing. A stress thing. You'd be lying if you said you didn't fall victim to the same impulse sometimes, but the amount of nail-chewing was starting to worry you.
It had gotten so bad that Dean had started slapping at Sam's hand if he noticed him raising it towards his mouth, one hand on the wheel and his eyes piercing warning daggers into Sam's soul as he pointed at him accusatorially. A silent "stop it right now before I turn Baby around."
It only stopped him from doing it so much on the road. Less so anywhere else. You'd been keeping a quiet eye on Sam the last few days, watching him chew his nails back to the skin. Irritating the skin and the keratin so much that it was probably hurting him. You weren't even sure what was worrying him so much.
You'd been brainstorming ideas to help him with the impulse for a few days until it finally came to you one morning when you were making a med-kit run- stocking up on all the things you all would definitely need at one point or another.
Nail polish. Of course! You'd picked up a couple different colours- given they were all out of transparent along with your bandages, iodine and Betadine and headed back to the motel of the day.
Sam had looked at the bottles in your hand with a raised brow when you brandished them. He picked one up, twirled it around and set it down on the counter.
"Do you want me to paint your nails for you or something?" He asked. Now, you couldn't say that wasn't appealing and that you weren't keen on that idea, because you were, but that was not the purpose of this little exercise.
"Maybe later, Sam. I got them for you-"
"For me?" He cut you off with one of those little huffy laughs he was so good at. You pulled a chair out and sat down, setting the bag on the counter and grabbing one of the bottles.
"Yes, for you," you reiterated, reaching for one of his hands. Sam allowed you to take it and take a look at the abused fingers. "Look, I- I've noticed you chew your nails a lot- and this looks like it hurts. I know Dean wants you to stop, and I imagine you'd also like to break the habit, yes?"
Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat, averting his eyes from your warm gaze.
"Yes," was his soft reply. You nodded, giving his hand a squeeze.
"This might help you break the habit. Plus, you'll look super pretty."
Sam snorted. His eyes darted back to look at you, and you really saw how shy and vulnerable he was feeling at that moment. It made you want to wrap him up and keep him safe.
"So, they didn't have clear," you explained, voice soft as if trying not to spook a deer. Or a moose, you supposed, in this case. "But I got you a few colours to choose from. Which one takes your fancy?"
You know exactly what he's going to pick before he does it. The forest-green. He hands you the vial and you let go of his hand to shake it up and unscrew the cap.
Sam sits patiently for you while you work, occasionally clearing his throat or giving you a quick smile. It doesn't take long, only a few minutes. Let it dry, then another coat. Let that dry. Done.
"There, all done," you exclaim, leaning back and stretching your back so it pops nicely. "Very nice, very nice," you approve. Sam fans his fingers out and juts his lower lip out thoughtfully.
"You know- I kinda like it," he blinked as though the discovery shocked him. "Can I do yours next?"
And so began a tradition. Once a fortnight you'd both paint each other's nails. Dean even got into it after a few weeks, getting his own done, too. Sam had been worried at first that Dean would make fun of him for his nails, but the only thing Dean had said after he returned toting beer and Chinese food was "nice choice, Sammy" as he cracked a beer and propped his feet up.
Sam continued to chew on his nails for a bit. It was a learning curve, after all, but he did end up slowing down and eventually stopping completely. You hadn't mentioned to Sam that he'd stopped just in case he hadn't realised, but you and Dean had shared a beer over the silent victory. And when Sam brought the victory to you both a few days after that, all three of you shared a beer then, too.
You and Sam continued to wear different shades and Sam even learned to put the polish on himself, though he vastly preferred you to put it on for him. Considered a bonding moment, which was cute. Dean would participate occasionally, and eventually, Sam admitted that he liked how feminine the polish made him feel.
After that- things sort of migrated from just nail polish to brushing his hair and experimenting with colour in his wardrobe. That was all he was really comfortable with for now, but that wasn't a problem. You were just glad he felt comfortable enough to share such personal information with you.
You both loved each other so much, and one of the best things about found family was that you knew you would be pillars of support for each other.
No matter what.
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