#dean realizes he is not straight

[uhoh-spn]

It Started With a Cowboy

For the Dreamy Drabble Prompts

Also on Ao3

Prompt: Cowboy Boots

Fandom: Supernatural

It’s past midnight and Dean is sprawled out at the end of the bed, eyes glued to the tiny motel T.V. Sam is asleep, John is out, and an old Western show is playing.

A pair of cowboy boots appear on the screen. The camera pans slowly up the body of the man. His hip is cocked, the gun holster hitching up on one side. His jacket is open, revealing a button-down shirt, the collar open at the hollow of his throat. The camera continues up and rests on the man’s handsome face: a strong jawline, a full bottom lip, clear blue eyes, and thick, dark hair.

The storyline barely registers to him, he’s so focused on the cowboy. He tells himself he’s just admiring the costume, but he knows that’s not true. It’s the man’s body, his voice, his eyes that captivate him. And Dean is terrified.

[shanastoryteller]

i rewatched dead in the water for fic reasons and i realize they hadn't nailed down a lot details yet, but it's crazy to me that they have dean witnessing his mother dying on the ceiling and then just. retcon that. like haha never happened. by the time we get to home six episodes later it's nope, he didn't see that and doesn't remember it, just kidding!

[stampede-system]

love having a straight cis alter in a majority gay/mlm system with a trans man's (mostly) medically transitioned body. it's like he's an ally and all but when he fronts he sometimes forgets that the body is trans. like one time he got hit in the crotch with a ball and literally he fell to the ground in pain and it took several minutes before he realized he didn't have balls and wasn't in fact in pain.

[badolmen]

Do not underestimate my ability to seduce* shitty white guys with my good innocent Irish Catholic girl swag.

*force them to confront their biases and reconsider their political ideologies

[pinkdean]

I'm cancelling my own post everyone has been entirely too annoying about it

Personally a big believer that dean never formally comes out, not because of internalized homophobia or anything, but because he just assumes everyone can tell. Like he thinks it would be an insult to their intelligence to inform someone that he's attracted to men

[lostalioth]

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

→ premise: there existed no such cricumstances in which dean doesnt want your lips against his. bloodied, bruised, even with broken bones, a kiss from his girl makes it all better.

→ pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

→ warnings: tw: blood, fluff, but some sort of instense making out, established relationship, descriptions of blood and injuries, blood in mouth, nicknames [baby, sweetheart, my girl], reader is described a bit to have anxiety

→ a/n: as always i hope dean isn’t too out of character as i have never written for him! enjoy my loves :) and sorry its short.

A hunt had gone south they got the monster and it was done but Dean was injured, they were headed back to the bunker. That was all Sam spit out over the phone, normally you appreciated his ability to get straight to the point. Currently you were cursing it as he hung up shortly after cause he was the one driving back. You had a million and one questions running through your head and more than half of them weren’t good.

This was the part of the boys going off hunting and you staying back that you hated the most. When one of them got hurt or something went wrong and all you could do was sit there, a chill running down your spine as your blood boiled in your veins, anxiously pacing the living room, trying to not let yourself jump to the worst conclusions which you regularly failed to do.

You used to go on hunts with them and instead of you currently being the one riddled with anxiety, it was Dean. Once the two of you pulled your heads out of your asses (as Sam would say) and realized you’ve had feelings for each other for years, you got together. Being officially together seemed to make Dean's protective nature increase tenfold. He was even more terrified to lose you now than before. He began fussing over you whenever you'd get even the slightest scarpe or bump on a hunt. He would glue himself to your side the whole duration. Forcing you to normally stay back in the motel room when the hunt turned into a more dangerous situation than dean cared to put you in.

You loved Dean but it began to get a bit too tedious to deal with and even Sam made a comment on how overprotective he was being. In an attempt to make hunts go easier and ease your boyfriend's anxiety, once you all situated yourselfs in the bunker you suggested to him that you go out on hunts less, especially when they could now take Cas. Dean jumped at the suggestion but you couldn't blame him.

“I think that's a great idea baby” he said with a kiss to your forehead.

You still helped out, researching things when Sam needed the help, going through old books and files in the library, patching them up when they’d come back with cuts and bruises. You hadn't realized just how jittery you'd be however stuck in the bunker when he was out and especially when they went on far away hunts.

They'd go to the hospital when things were really bad, so you knew if the boys were on their way back then it couldn’t be too bad. The reminder did nothing to sooth your racing thoughts, your heart thumping so hard you could practically hear it pounding in your ears. You didn't know just how long you've been pacing back and forth, too afraid to look up at the clock and realize it's only been a few minutes since Sam called.

You don't hear the sound of baby pulling into the garage, your head is too clouded as you were damn near about to wear a grove down into the old floors. The sound of a door shutting loudly and two sets of heavy footsteps are heard down the hallway. Spinning so quickly on your feet you nearly lose your balance you turn to face the noise. Watching as the brothers emerge from the dark hall, Dean's arm rests on Sam's shoulder almost using him like a human crutch. You let out a small gasp making them stop and both of their eyes snap up to yours, weather you gasped in surprise at the state of your boyfriend or in relief you can’t tell.

“Hi sweetheart, We’re home” Dean tilts his head, his voice laced with his usual sarcasm and deep tone. He pushes off of Sam, clearly able to at least stand on his own, slowly making his way over to you a small limp in his step.

In the blink of an eye you’re rushing into his arms, your soft hands grabbing ahold of his beaten up face and crashing your lips against his. He grunts out a “fuck” in surprise or pain the word dying in his throat turning into a noise as his eyes fall shut and he grabs ahold of your hips. With a sharp tug he pulls your body as close as he can to his, his hands sliding up your sides. His bloodied lips against your plush ones, kissing you like a man starved, a kiss you’ve come accustomed to when he comes home from longer hunts. “Missed you” he hums in a hushed tone into the kiss for only you to hear, making your racing heart only speed up. His blood flows into your opened mouth as the kiss goes on, the metallic taste on your tongue foreign but you were far too relieved he was back in one piece to care about the blood coating your tongue.

Any pain Dean felt after the whole ordeal and from the bumpy ride back to the bunker seemed to fade from his body. He could care less about his brother's presence still in the room or the blood still dripping from his face and that covered his clothes or his split lip. It felt as if all the bruises that were forming on his body were already being kissed away as your soft lips slid against his. The taste of your mouth overcoming the taste of the blood in his, your scent calming his body, reminding him he's finally home again. Your body grounding him.

A rough deep cough stops the moment making the two of you reluctantly pull away, lips swollen and parted as you catch your breath.

“Before this gets any more R-rated maybe we should patch him up and you know clean him up” Sam suggested with a small light hearted chuckle as he walks off to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. You were grateful you remembered just yesterday that it had needed to be restocked. “Sorry Sammy” Dean calls after him, you turn your head away and follow up with a “Sorry not sorry” down the hall after him making a small smirk grow on your boyfriend's face.

Once he's out of eye sight, Dean grabs ahold of your face by lightly squeezing your cheeks and turns your head back to face him. Leaning down to begin softly kissing you again, groaning against your lips when the pain in his body begins to return.

“Who needs a first aid kit, all i need is my girl's kisses” He mumbled softly against your mouth, making you break out into a smile. A small tear slips down your cheek, your breath returning to your lungs and the chill in your spine fading as relief finally settled over your body knowing he's okay.

→ a/n: if you enjoyed please reblog or send me some dean requests id love to write more for him!

[floralscented]

dean winchester x angel!reader — innocence is a virtue.

or, how on earth is he supposed to corrupt you? you? or, dean's newest passenger princess is killing him slowly and violently.

cw, fluff but with sexual elements. mostly fluffy though. reckless driving DO NOTTT do this!! professionals only!! dirty minded!dean. honestly just horny!dean really. innuendos galore.

word count : 2.9k

notes, guys can i be so honest i have not even gotten to the seasons where angels come into spn. this is all based on the lil bits n pieces i know of the future stuff ok. ik i'm a fraud but BE GENTLE IF IT'S OOC OR ANYTHING < /3

req. by anon & in honor of kas's dean & angel fics bc i LOVEEE them

★ ˚⋆

dean, honestly, had never met someone quite like you. when he'd told cas in passing that he was about the most naive, innocent thing he'd ever met, all he did was give him one of those looks he reserved only for dean. he thought, then, that it was just because he was being a bit of a shithead, and cas was telling him without telling him so.

very quickly, he found out how wrong he was about both of his assessments.

the day you came down to earth and graced everyone, literally, with your presence, dean was smitten. never before had he met someone so sweet. so honestly pure. until you, he thought that purity was nothing but an ideology based on impossible feats. a pipe dream and a half for the faithful. no, the reality was that he just hadn't met you yet.

sam was pouring himself into research, too focused to realize that dean was all but whittling away in his starvation, so when he offered to go grab some cheap shit from the diner a few minutes from the motel, all he got in response was a mumble of agreement and a wave of his hand from him.

but you, who'd been sitting on the motel bed, stiff as if you had something stuck up your ass holding you in place, turned to him and asked to come with. that struck dean off kilter immediately, because he hadn't been asked for anything in a long ass while. sam just usually assumed he'd be writing shotgun wherever they went. john — no, he'd never ask his son anything, usually buried that sentiment in harsh demands and orders. cas asked him lots of questions, but permission was not often one of them.

and when he looked at you, read over your features and saw the genuineness in your wide, expectant eyes... god, how could he say no?

so you sat there in the passenger seat. dean had to buckle you in with a joke that flew right over your head — another joke you would not get, even though he was fucking killing it with them right now — about not wanting to send you flying if they got into a wreck.

you proceeded to unbuckle and buckle and unbuckle again a few times, seemingly fascinated with the click of the mechanism. dean wanted to be annoyed. genuinely. if sam had started pulling this shit, dean would have pulled over and drove a few feet ahead as a warning to cut it the fuck out.

but with you, it was adorable in its own right. god, it was! somehow it surprised you, every time it clicked, even if you'd already done it eight times. like, how did anyone expect him to get pissy at you when you were doing those sharp, surprised gasps every few seconds? a few more times and he'd be pulling over to give you something to gasp at, he thought idly.

and then winced, scrunching up his face, when he realized how deep in the gutter his head was. no, he wouldn't touch you. wouldn't even try to plant that idea in your pretty little head.

dean didn't want to corrupt you. if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that he wanted to keep that pretty little head as clear as his nose was, alright? he wasn't going to be the one to break you into what this world was, its hardships and its cruelties — and its more deviant pleasures.

but fuck, you made it so hard to keep his head straight.

you did this thing, he realized too, on that silent, clicky drive, where you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth when you were in deep thought. thought about what, fuck if he knew, because if you said something to him in the moments that he watched you do it, he'd never know. he was watching your mouth but not to listen.

dean was about to start reprimanding himself in his head, for what must have been the third time already, when you said something, nearly making him slam on the brakes in his surprise.

"how are you doing this?" you asked, as if that wasn't the vaguest question he'd heard in his entire life.

dean blinked a couple of times as he waited for elaboration that never came. he switched hands on the steering wheel, resting his right loosely over the gearstick. "doing..." he trailed off, shaking his head slowly in a gesture to make you keep talking, "what, exactly?"

you did not catch the hint, and he was probably a fool for expecting you to. it took a few more seconds of you staring very intently at his thighs for you to speak up, and by then, he was fucking squirming in his leather seat, trying to not let it get to either of his heads that you were so blatantly staring at his dick.

"this," you answered, twinges of frustration evident in your tone. he couldn't blame you. he was getting frustrated in this car ride, too. "making it move."

christ. he was going to hell. he was going to hell again, this time because of his own drifting thoughts.

"you're gonna have to be a little more clear, dove," he managed through his teeth, voice strained, "'cause i don't think we are on the same train of thought right now."

another blink, and another few seconds pass. your hand shot up in his direction and he flinched, honestly flinched, convinced from the filthy thoughts circling in his head that you were about to grab him by the—

"this," you repeated, and he almost bristled at the attitude, almost told you off about virtues or whatever, when he finally got it. your arm stuck out in gesture to his legs, which pushed the gas pedal and rested against the doorframe, as he drove.

dean closed his eyes briefly, metaphorically swapping his metaphorical wrist for his headspace. he was not, was not, the person that should be introducing you to this world.

dean shifted again, bringing his left leg closer to the leather seat as he readjusted into more of a comfortable position. he hadn't even realized how tense he'd gotten on this short car ride until now. he was as straight backed as you were, and breathing just as slow. "driving?" he asked anyways, like an idiot.

"driving..." you repeated, like the word was as fascinating to you as the process was. "how?"

the diner sign was right there. it was teal and glowed, retro in style, announcing benny's bistro as open.

he drove past it.

dean knew that you did not sign up for a driver's ed course with him with your question, knew even more that he was risking his baby for a pathetic attempt at flirting with someone who did not even know the definition of the word, but to hell with it. you'd asked to come along with him, and therefore placed yourself in his hands for his guidance. the least he could do was make some sort of effort, couldn't he?

"c'mere," he grumbled once he'd pulled baby off into an unassuming back road, parking it dead in the center. you'd need all the open space. he patted his spread thighs a couple of times.

your stupidly pretty pink lips sucked into your stupidly straight teeth. fuck. "why?"

"just—" he cut himself off when he realized he was about to get snippy. you didn't deserve snippy. he was just hungry and horny and you were pretty and he was...

he was pathetic. looking for reasons to get you into his lap. he'd already been to hell, what are they gonna do, drag him back by his ear?

"just do it," dean finished on a sigh, his hand dropping to the front of his leather seat, grabbing the handle and shoving the seat back as far as it could go. there you were, staring at his dick again, making him feel hotter and more bothered.

he felt his heart stop solidly in his chest when you started to climb over the middle console, so oblivious to the faceful of ass he was getting. dean was practically praying to god at that point. he knew he'd been a shit until then, and definitely a sinner by every means, but if he could grant him a little fucking strength—

you plopped your happy little ass right between his muscular, jean-clad thighs. you were warm, was his first thought. he was screwed, was his second.

"what now?" you asked him, that innocent lilt to your voice as you did, and he felt like a dirty little freak for wanting to bend you over the steering wheel moments before ( who was he kidding? for still wanting to bend you over the steering wheel ).

dean took both of your hands and placed them on the steering wheel. once he'd closed your fingers around the wheel, he dropped his hands to your thighs.

"this one," he patted the left one, and nearly went molten behind you, when you lifted that thigh and placed it on his palm. "nuh uh," he tried to lightly correct, "this one you don't use. jus' keep it out of the way." dean's voice was strained in his ears, in his throat.

you slipped your thigh out of his grasp, pressing it up against the inner of his own thigh, your foot tucked around his ankle. you were so trusting and compliant. he was so, so screwed, and so, so awful for thinking about breaking that sweet naivety.

"this one," he said, patting your right thigh, and when you didn't move it this time, he smiled, just a little, to himself. "you use to make it move."

the flush on your cheeks that followed his tease was so damn pretty it took his breath away.

he lifted his leg, not able to reach the pedals with you sat between them and his seat all the way back. he pointed his boot at the left pedal, knowing you were watching each of his movements intently. "that's the stop pedal. push it down to stop." he repeated the process he'd done with your legs, boot pointing at the right pedal as he explained it. "that's the ignition."

pause.

"that's the go," he corrected, sparing you any momentary confusion and any more questions, he hoped. dean could not keep sitting here idle with you between his legs. "makes the car drive. harder you push, faster it goes."

hell, hell, hell. he wasn't going to hell, because he was already in it, strung up and burning.

"i'll handle the gears," he added quickly, when he caught your head turning downward to the shift stick. "don't wanna overwhelm that pretty little head of yours, dove, with too much at once."

dean rested his right hand on the gear stick, his left hand gripping the handle on the driver's door for dear life. he needed the support; you were driving him up a wall with his claws out, and you were about to be driving him. driving his baby. it took a lot of coaxing from sam for dean to let sam behind the wheel. all you did was ask how do you make it move? and he was letting you drive.

you. who did not even know what a car was. who was learning how to drive literally that moment.

god help him. he'd prayed more in this fifteen minute drive than he had in years.

you pressed down on the gas pedal, and the car revved all pretty and loud. dean watched with bated breath as the response to your efforts registered in your head, the way your eyes lit up in that curious glimmer, the fucking teeth biting on your lip.

once you let up, he pushed on the gear stick's release, and tugged it down from park to drive. the car slowly began to move down the dirt path.

you slammed the brakes so hard that his head knocked into the back of your shoulders. "fuck, dove, gentle."

and you were, when you shifted your foot over to the gas pedal again. you pushed it down on it tentatively, the car starting to glide down the dirt road, the sound of pebbles grinding beneath the tires.

"better," he mumbled in your ear, leant forward to keep his eyes on the windshield. it's not that he didn't trust you, he just... yeah, he didn't trust you. "just like that, dove."

the praise, though, goes in one ear and out the other, because the gentle ease of baby's tires along the road is interrupted by you slamming the gas. the tires squeal. clouds of dirt and dust puff out from behind the car as it takes off.

dean's heart went from in his ass to in his throat in a manner of a second. "whoa, whoa, whoa!" he exclaimed, a nervous laughter bubbling out of his throat. "slower, slower, will ya? crashin' in the middle of nowhere is the last—"

you hit the brakes again, still hard but less this time. just enough to send his head knocking into your shoulder again as the car slowed.

slowed, but still headed toward the ditch. "right, see your hands?" he asked, chin nuzzling into the plush spot between your neck and your shoulder so he could see better. "twist 'em. nice n' gentle for me, to your left, yeah, good girl. makes the whole car move, yeah? jus' keep it on the dirt, not off "

you follow his instructions, and dean feels a swell of pride at this. maybe he should have gone into driver's ed or some shit. he was a good ass teacher.

"like this?" you asked, drawing him out of his self glazing. your voice, soft and hesitant, breathless with your excitement, has his chest heaving.

"yeah, dove, jus' like that," he rasped, his left hand moving from the doorframe to rest where your thigh met your hips. the car kept its slow pace down the long dirt road, and for the first time since you'd gotten your hands on the wheel, his heart doesn't feel like it's pounding in his throat. "no, no, don't stop. keep goin', you're doing so good for me."

his phone starts to buzz in his pocket, and like that, his self indulgent driver's ed lesson comes to a screeching halt. "you jus' keep on going like this, alright?" he asked you, patting your hip with his hand before he reluctantly let go.

he definitely answered the phone with more attitude than necessary. couldn't help it. he was having a great time. "what, sam?"

"everything alright?" sam asked, and then dean felt like a prickhead for giving him shit at all. "s'been thirty minutes."

dean sighed, his eyes lifting again to look out the front windshield. a stop sign was quickly approaching, and you didn't even need his guidance for that. you were slowing to a stop all on your own. he was so fucking proud, it was sick. "all good. long line at the burger place."

it was dead empty, four miles back.

"we'll be back in a few, alright? chew on one of your books or somethin' while you wait, make 'em useful."

"dean—"

he hung up before he could hear sam's sighed response.

his hand fell to your waist again, squeezing lightly to stop you from lifting your foot off of the brake just yet. "play time's over. calvary's callin' us back."

dean pushed the gear stick into park again before he moved both of his hands to your hips, helping guide you back into the passenger seat.

he adjusted the seat again, his hands finding their typical place on the wheel. he did a very illegal u-turn at the four-way intersection and headed back down the road that you'd driven him down.

"have fun?" he asked after a beat, eyes flicking over to see you. you looked so pretty in the orange glow of the sunset, your face lit up in deep gold.

you turned to meet his eyes, and he had to look away quickly, the bright glimmer of adrenaline in them knocking all the wind out of him. "yes."

"good." dean meant it. there were so few things he'd risk everything for, but that toothy smile of yours jumped to the top of that list.

"dean?" your voice rung out again, earning him another glance your way in acknowledgement. "what part of the car was in my back the whole time?"

dean faltered, eyes blinking in a bout of surprise and lips parting, searching for a response he did not have. his eyes dropped down to his lap for a second, dread and embarrassment pooling like ice water in his stomach at what he hoped wasn't— yeah. yeah, it was.

"i dunno, dove," he mumbled through his teeth, staring straight ahead, fingers tapping on the steering wheel, doing basically anything to not meet that curious look of yours. especially knowing you'd have your lip in your teeth all over again. "might have t'take it to the shop, while we're in town... get it checked out or somethin'..."

he was so damn screwed.

tags, @figthoughts @jasvtsc @titsout4nicholas @deanswidow @deansbite

[honeyryewhiskey]

we’ve been loving in silence 𖤐 dean winchester 

【 pairing 】 dean x fem!reader 【 summary 】 you’re a bartender in sioux falls, dean tends to stop in whenever he’s in town. you’ve played this game of touch + go for going on a decade now. when he stops in tonight, looking particularly worn out and tired, it’s you he’s searching for a restitute in.  【 genre / warnings 】 smut, explicit language, unprotected piv, needy dean, teasing/begging, aftercare, some plot, mdni, 18+ 【 wordcount 】 2.9k inspired by this song ⤜ we’ve been loving in silence by MARO ⤛ 

you knew the moment those heavy boots waltzed into your bar that you’d be here, stumbling into your dark apartment tipsy and high on his charming energy. you cross the threshold with dean’s calloused palms stuck to your hips. he nips at the side of your neck, making you giggle as you lose your balance. 

“i don’t think you’ve stopped touching me since we got out of the car.” you quip, peaking over your shoulder at those brilliantly green eyes. 

“mhm,” he hums, gently peppering kisses on the soft skin behind your ear, “can you really blame me, sweet girl?” his voice is damn near smokey at this hour in the night. rolling into your body like electricity as you notice even the faintest grunts of impatient desire emanating from him. 

dean effortlessly kicks the door closed behind him, using it to lean on as he pulls you in closer. turning within his grasp, you snake your arms around his strong neck and look up into his hungry gaze. his eyes dance across your face, memorizing each feature with complete admiration. 

“i’ve missed you, sweetheart.” he breathes, barely audible even in your closeness. he always calls you pet names, but you’ve noticed they leave his lips more frequently after a night of honey whiskey. 

“me too,” you smile, unable to deny the relief that left your soul when he came in tonight, “i was worried something happened to you, something permanent this time.” you confess, biting your lips and feeling anxious to express your concerns to mr no strings attached. but you’ve known each other for so long, known what his life is outside of your nights of drink and pillowtalk. when you spend months in radio silence, the fears begin to scream from the corners of your mind. 

“i know, baby, it’s been too long.” he sighs, bringing his hand to your jaw and running one of those large thumbs across your lips. “but i’m here now.” there is a quiet pleading in his words, one that you take to mean leave it, leave those thoughts at the door. and as always, you do.

pushing onto your tip toes, your eyes flutter closed as you collide your lips with his. he groans at the sudden connection, taking no more than a few milliseconds to deepen the kiss. lips messily moving against each other in a needy want. he pulls off your jacket without breaking contact, quickly moving his hands down your body and swiftly lifting you up, your legs wrap around his waist instinctively. 

dean turns your bodies so that it’s your back against the door now. “i need you,” he whispers on your lips, “i need this.” 

his pleas send a heat straight to your core, ricocheting through your body and leaving goosebumps in it’s wake. a mindless whimper escapes you. god, you’ve been starving for the touch of this man. 

your small verbal cue was enough for dean to take exactly what he’s craving. he carries you from the door and into your small apartment. despite not having been here in months he navigates through the dark rooms with ease, distracting you with nips and kisses across your collarbones. you don’t even realize you’ve made it to the bedroom until he lowers you onto the end of the bed. 

you watch with a love drunk gaze as he towers over you, and you can’t help reaching out and tracing the muscular outlines of his lower abdomen while he busies himself with removing his shirts. “you’re a true marvel to see, dean.” you confess, peaking through your lashes to watch how quickly he tries to hide his embarrassment from such a compliment. though you only meet with him in moments, you learned fairly early on how deeply wrong this gorgeous man is about himself. since then you committed to a secret promise to yourself that you’d do your best to acknowledge his beauty whenever he’s near. 

his charming toothy smile is back, “there you go again, being too sweet to me.” he teased. he takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, lips puffy and red from grazing his stubble in the sloppy kisses. your shirt tousled from his constant pawing. he leans down to become eye level, those thick lashes framing such vibrant green irises. “lie back for me, baby.” he murmurs, watching carefully as you follow his gentle command.

it isn’t often you get such a soft side of dean, hell, for years it was highly erotic work the two of you did on these nights. but you can sense something has change in him. maybe it came with age, or the constant reconciliations with life and death he faces on the road. he never shares too much, so you’ve learned to notice the smallest expressions in him to decode what might be going on inside that caged mind of his. 

as of right now, all dean could think about was devouring the sweetness he’s missed over the past few months. 

he gets to work undoing your belt, next the buttons of your jeans until he’s tugging both your bottoms and panties from your body. a satisfied sigh leaves his mouth as he looks over your half naked body. his eyes flick up to your shirt, clearly needing that off, too. so he hooks his thumbs and pulls it over your head, discarding it with the rest of the clothes. hovering over your frame, he trails kisses from your jaw, down your neck and across the plump part of your breasts that stick out of your bra. 

“i need to see all of you.” he rasps against your skin, sliding his hands between your back and the bed to swiftly unlatch your last piece of clothing. 

his hands lead the way down your sides, straight to the sensitive skin between your thighs as he pushes them apart. kneeling at the foot of your bed as if to pray, he works his mouth teasing the areas around your arousal, making the budding heat morph into need. 

you arch your back as his rough hands slowly slide up and down the sides of your legs, sending shock waves into your core, “please, dean, touch me.” you quietly plead. 

“easy, sweetheart.” he responds and you can feel his grin against your thigh as his lips inch closer to where you really want them. he loves this game, warming you up and getting you to quite literally begin to melt before he lets himself devour. 

his uses one arm to anchor himself, large palms squeezing the thick of your thigh while his other hand travels down past your navel, pressing his thumb against your clit as he works gentle circles. too gentle, you think. you want more, need it. 

“dean,” you breathe out, impatiently wiggling under his touch, “please.” 

with a groan his mouth replaces his thumb. sucking and lapping at your sensitive skin as you feel a wave of relief and bliss wash over you. you lose all sense of humanity as you become a mess of whimpers and moans. your sounds fuel his hunger, working you more aggressively with his mouth as his middle and ring finger tease your entrance. lazily sliding in and out, barely pushing in. 

“more, now.” you breathlessly demand. dean lets out a short laugh, pulling away from your heat. the sudden cold making you damn near writh beneath him. 

“beg.” he teases, and you look down to see those green eyes glowing with amusement. 

“please.” you manage, his eyes don’t leave your gaze as he lets his fingers tantalizing massage your clit.

“hm?” he hums, raising an eyebrow, completely indulging in the way your hips buck for more fiction.

 “please, dean.” you groan, throwing your head back against the mattress in defeat. your mind is swirling with a deep need for more of him inside you, on you, touching you in the ways only he can do. 

with a satisfied growl his lips are back to working pure bliss against your clit as his thick middle and ring fingers curl into the warmth inside you. you’re not even sure how his fingers are capable of thrusting against that sweet, aching knot inside the way they do. 

all you can do is squirm and whimper as he loses himself in pleasing you.

“fuck, dean,” you gasp as everything inside tenses and tightens, his lips pull and suck while his fingers plunge deep quickly. like a skeleton key finding it’s lock, dean presses into your dam and the floods break with ease. 

the release rolls through your body, soaking his face and fingers in your climax. you’re left shivering as he pulls away to stand over you. sucking on the fingers he just worked inside you, his face glimmers with pride of just how good he is at undoing you. 

“god, i missed that.” you sigh, catching your breath as dean undoes his belt and kicks his jeans off. his eyes take in every inch of your body as he pulls out his thick cock, working it in his hands. just watching him makes your core begin to ache all over again. 

“on your stomach, princess.” he commands, and you eagerly oblige. sticking your ass up with your thighs pressed together, just the way he likes it, and he appreciates you remembering. 

you felt the mattress dip under his weight as he centers himself behind you, shoving his bulging tip between your skin until it reached your sore clit, the heightened sensitivity making you moan and pathetically hump his cock, desperate for another release. his hands squeezed each side of your ass, applying more pressure to where your bodies meet. 

you rock against him, circling and bucking, trying to reach that itch, but it wasn’t enough. he knew that, but watching you use him like a toy was mesmerizing. 

“mm, please, dean.” you found yourself begging again, “i need you inside me, i need you to fuck me.” 

“fuck.” he groans. pulling away just quick enough to plunge inside, sending his entire thick length in, triggering a gasp from your lips. 

the sudden stretch sent a chill throughout your body, making you melt further into the bed as he fell into a mind numbing rhythm. wet skin slapping against each other cut through your shared symphony of moans. 

“baby, you’re so god damn tight.” he professes, squeezing your hips as he bucks harder into your cunt. his sickeningly deep voice paying such vulgar compliments made you twitch and hum. 

dean’s hand slips it’s way past your navel and straight to your clit, working messily fast circles as he coaxes another release from you. your thighs squeeze together as another knot formed in the pit of your stomach. 

“don’t stop, dean, please.” you begged, grabbing his wrist as if it could keep you grounded while he fucks you into senseless oblivion. his other hand presses into the small of your back, deepening your arch and allowing his tip to reach your sweet spot. 

he thrusts against that spot again and again until you’re making a mess all over him, whimpering and chanting his name like it was an invocation of the divine. 

your shameless release under his doing and hearing his name leave your mouth made dean’s head spin, feeling your walls tense around him turns his rhythm into a sputtering mess.

“fuck, baby.” he groans, his mind falling into a euphoric emptiness as he came inside you, bucking with the aftershock into a seeping wet mess. 

completely fucked out and weak, you collapsed onto the bed. your eyes watery and heavy as you blink yourself back to earth. dean’s warm hands rub up and down your back as he trails kisses across your shoulder blades. 

he didn’t want to walk away from you, have to look away from the beautiful mess he made of you. but, he knew better than to flop over and fall asleep like he did the first time you two shared a night together. then again, he was much younger and more selfish, and he had yet to grow so attached to you. something he would never admit to your face. but a part of him, buried away with the rest of his hope, wondered if you could sense how much care he had built up in the years he’s spent getting to know you in these visits. 

as dean left the room, you used every ounce of strength left in you to crawl up to the pillows, relaxing as you wait, knowing exactly what he was getting up to in the bathroom attached to your room. 

after a few moments, dean returns to your side. “waters warm,” he cooed with a smile, “just the way you like it.” 

you giggle, sitting up “you sure do know how to treat a woman right, winchester.” 

“only the ones i really like.” he responds, that gloating grin making you roll your eyes as you follow him into the shower. 

 ⤜

 the warm water felt incredible on your skin, enveloping your tired body as dean stood over you, his fingers massaging your scalp as he works vanilla scented conditioner into your hair.

“is this shit why you always smell so good?” he wonders aloud, and you could just see his face in that cute puzzled expression of his, despite facing the opposite direction. 

“yes,” you laugh, “my body wash is cookie butter scented, too.” 

“ah,” he sighs, “makes sense. wait, is that on purpose?” 

“what do you mean?” you ask, turning to face him and let the water rinse the sweet soap from your locks. 

“well, i mean, i always wanna take a bite when i’m around you.” he grins.

“are you saying you want to eat me, dean?” you tease, collecting more conditioner from the bottle and reaching up to rake it through dean’s hair. 

“well,” he began, an eyebrow lifting as that familiar smug expression graces his features, “i already have.”

you pinch his arm in retaliation, shaking your head at his smart mouth. 

“ow,” he feigns, rubbing the spot your fingers were. “hey, can’t say you hated it, right?” 

“rinse your hair, asshat.” you chime, switching places. you take notice in the way his arms flex as he works the conditioner out of his hair. his muscles have certainly grown over the last few months, and you try not to wonder what kind of bad he’s fighting to make him get stronger. 

“oh, aren’t you shameless, sweetheart.” he chuckles, winking before he continues, “checking me out while i wash the girlpoo from my hair.” 

“the girlpoo?” you echo, brows knitting in amused confusion.

“yeah,” he states plainly, “girl-sham-poo.” he emphasizes each part of the words as if that makes any sense of what he’s said.

“dean, it's a conditioner. and,” you smile, “can’t say you hate it, right?” 

“shut up.” he retorts, sending a playful glare. you smile at his usual go-to when he can’t find a way to give slack back. he reaches over and turns off the shower, grabbing the two towels he prepared earlier and handing one over. you internally cringe at the way he barely wipes any water off of his body, stepping out into the bathroom and leaving puddles in his wake. some things never change.

entering your room, you ruffle through the dresser draw packed with sleep clothes until you find your favorite big shirt to slip on. turning, you find a naked dean already beneath the covers, watching you. seeing him in your bed again reminds you of a time before. 

“do you always sleep naked?” you ask, snuggled into the comforter, lying just inches from that gorgeously crafted face.

“no,” dean sighs, “i actually am usually dressed, or close to it when i sleep.”

“why?” you ask.

dean pauses for a moment, those sweet green eyes clouding under whatever memories tumble beneath the surface, “i guess i can’t sleep any other way, always have to be ready.”

you consider his words, you still don’t fully understand the world he lives in but you’ve been trying to, “but not here?”

this earns a smile from the tired man, “no, not here.”

“hey, is that my shirt?” dean’s question disrupts your thoughts, bringing you back into the quiet of your dark bedroom. you look down, scanning the worn out t-shirt you’ve been sleeping in for years now.

“i think so, actually,” you respond, “from… what, ‘08? that time you spent almost a whole week with me for a reason you still have yet to tell me.” 

dean pauses, knowing damn well why he didn’t tell you. and he wasn’t going to now, either, because the last time he told you about his dance with life and death you went on a rant about how even dean winchester himself isn’t invincible, be careful, stay alive, and whatever else you blubbered out like a scolding parent. he wasn’t in the mood for it tonight.

“yeah, don’t remember.” he grinned, lifting his arm to invite you in, “care to join me?” he asks. 

rolling your eyes at his avoidance, you slip into the blankets. his arm finds your waist, pulling you close to his body. 

he brings a hand to your face, stealing a soft kiss before wrapping his arm again, tucking you into his chest. you somehow did forget the way dean cuddles is awfully aggressive, clutching you like a toy. but, as all the times before, you don’t mind it. there's a security in his arms you have yet to find elsewhere. you can hear the morning birds beginning to sing outside your bedroom window. by past patterns you estimate about four hours of sweet comfort before you’re left alone in this bed again. the wondrous dean winchester has a life to get back to, and you do, too. but you can’t ignore the tugging in your chest each time he leaves without a goodbye. 

 ──────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

ooof this one was fun to write !!! probably one of my fave things to daydream about is being the one dean returns to throughout the years for some solace in his life (luv being delulu, thinking i could heal this man) but maybe i'll do more oneshots with this scenario tho, hmmm much to think about

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ── Part 2

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: In the hopes that things would improve between you, you choose to lose your virginity to your friend Dean Winchester because you have been in love with him madly for a long time. However, he doesn't feel the same about you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: +18! (Minors DNI),smut, unrequited love, angst, reader gets hurt, arguments, jealousy

Word Count: 5896

A/N: English is not my first language.

Dean hung out on the second floor with his new girlfriend while you and Sam watched TV. There were no audible voices. Well, you couldn't hear anything that far away, at least. You couldn't stop your mind from concentrating on them, even if you didn't want to. Your head hurt from the mix of the TV's sounds and the rain. Actually, the pain was in your soul.

You waited for regret to surface so you could condemn and despise yourself for opening yourself to Dean, your friend. But despite your best efforts, you were unable to sense remorse. You knew that you would do it again if you had a chance, taking back all that happened. How could you refuse him? You wished to memorize every moment of that night by being able to see every expression on his face. It was ridiculous that something so basic could no longer be made possible. The moments you spent with him are now only vague memories in your mind. All you could recall was the touch—his touch. It was still lingering on your skin. That would be enough.

It was clear to you from the way he laughed with her moments ago that the moment you had spent with him days before meant nothing. It was simply another hookup for Dean. Though you didn't think you'd reveal the truth from your side, you wondered what Sam would say about it. Sam was a good man, but you really weren't supposed to reveal to him that you slept with his brother since it would be too embarrassing. Additionally, you had given your virginity to his brother, whom you referred to as a "friend." There was no way you could tell him this.

You couldn't even recall the name of the show that was on TV. From time to time, Sam cracked up at the jokes. At least one person was feeling good. You looked at him attentively and observed that he had his attention on the show while he ate his popcorn.

He turned to face you, seeing your serious expression as he observed how you were reacting to the joke. In your arms, you held a pillow.

He said, “What's that look?”

“Seems like someone is enjoying, huh?”

“Why not? We all deserve a little relaxation after working so hard as hunters, don't you think?” He remarked, grinning, and turned down the TV. The instant the room was silent, you realized how much the noise had hurt your head. 

“Like your brother?” Compared to what you had anticipated, you sounded more serious. 

“Dean being Dean, you know.” Sam sighed and made a quick statement. Yes, you were aware of it. 

“How is your arm, by the way?” you said with a troubled look on your face. You've been feeling terrible for Sam because he kept you protected throughout the hunt and then ended up hurting himself. He was always considerate and cautious of you and Dean. It was in his nature. 

Sam smiled reassuringly and said, “It's fine. You know, things go wrong, and as long as you save the day, it's alright to get a little bit hurt.”

Stating, “I didn't want to get distracted that easily. I'm not sure what's wrong with me these days, but I promise I'll get better.” The claim that you were acting in this way without knowing why wasn't true. You were certainly aware of the exact cause of your growing distraction. 

If only Sam could read your mind and understand. Otherwise, there was no way for you to tell him straight what happened between you and Dean that night. You had any, yet deep down you needed to talk to someone. But you were very, really embarrassed. It's not like you were teens; you and Dean are grown ups. Reasonable ones, obviously. On the other hand, exposing your situation to him would be the same as declaring your love for him and would reveal your feelings for him.

“Really, Y/N, it's all right. What is done is done.” Sam looked at you, totally shutting off the TV. “Ignore what Dean said. You know how protective he is all the time. If you were the one who was harmed by me, he would say the same things. Though he may have come off as tougher, his intentions were good.”

"I'm afraid that's not true, Sammy. I mean, I know his intentions were good, of course, but I guess I touched his nerves this time for real.”

You attempted a smile, but it did not reach your lips before you realized Sam was trying to soothe you.

Sam replied awkwardly, “He cares way too much about the people he really cares about.” At these meaningless remarks, you both halted for a little period of time. “Well, it wasn't the best way to put it, but you get the idea. You might understand if you were raised by an older brother. He's not a bad person; there are just moments when I don't understand him.” 

“Of course not,” you cut him off right away. “You don't even have to say it. Don't get me wrong; I'm not saying anything negative about him. I would never.”

“I know, I know...” Sam spoke quickly. “Still, I'm simply advising you not to think too much about what he said previously, all right? We've been hunting for more than a year; it's not that he doesn't like you. Remember that a year ago, it was he who offered the invitation for you to join that team?”

You ultimately nodded as Sam attempted to convince you that Dean didn't mean to hurt you. 

“Yes,” you murmured to yourself. “Considering how often you two sustain injuries, a nurse would be beneficial. I wonder if Dean was looking for a nurse for himself and his little brother, or if he was looking for someone with hunting abilities.”

“Let's say you're just talented enough to take a part in that very humble team,” Sam laughed. “And you're being a nurse is just another plus.” 

You sighed and then gave him a genuine smile, saying, “Fine, if you say so.” You had finally been somewhat diverted from your thoughts about Dean and his girlfriend by a brief conversation with Sam. 

Curious, you said, “How about you and Ruby, by the way? It seems that you two have become a very good couple, haven't you?”

“We're looking for something…to work out. But it's okay for now,” Sam remarked hesitantly. You found it amusing that he was so forthright about everything else than relationships. 

“You seem to be very much in love.” Not knowing how to present the matter to Dean without taking any suspicion, you offered an innocent glance to Sam. Sam was smart in every other way. Sometimes he observed and gazed at people as though he could see right through them. 

“She's like no one I've ever met,” Sam said timidly. “I think it will take some more time to work it out, but it's fine so far.”

“I'm glad to hear that.”

“How about you?”

You hesitantly replied, “What?” as he sent you one of his suspicious stares. 

“I've been thinking about lately and come to know... that it has been a year and I didn't even see you with anyone. That seems a little odd, don't you think?” Sam arched an eyebrow. “Are you not seeing anyone, or are you keeping it as a secret or something?”

You shifted on the seat and hugged the pillow against your arms a bit extra to help you unwind. In the end, he knew nothing about Dean or you. There was no reason to be anxious. It was only chitchat. 

“No, of course not!” You stopped him off before he started asking his questions. “It isn't... I'm not interested in anyone right now.”

“Really?” With a look of suspicion, Sam inquired. “We met other men throughout the cases, and they seemed to be interested in you. How can you tell whether you're interested in one of them if you don't give it a shot?”

“Sam, I don't like hookups. Something like that is not what I want.” However, you've turned into Dean's one hookup. The thought briefly ripped through your soul, given how little you've been talking recently, as if there were an unambiguous wall between you that you could not break down no matter how hard you tried.

“That's not what I'm saying. I'm just trying to get the point that you should give people a chance to win you over. How in the world would you know if you liked someone or not without that?”

“I don't want to,” you interrupted, concentrating solely on Dean. It would be simpler to get Sam to understand you if you could tell him how you feel about Dean. 

Sam groaned and said, “Fine. It was just an advice.” 

“I know, thanks,” you responded, putting on a timid grin. “Will you continue to watch TV for a while? It's growing late.”

Sam said, “I think I will,” as he looked at his watch. “Are you leaving?” 

You said quietly, “Yeah,” as you peered out the window to see the weather. It was pouring. You would have hated sunny days even more if you had gotten intimate with Dean on a sunny day. Rainy weather used to be something you enjoyed, but now it just hurt.

“I think it's better if you stay though,” Sam said, taking a deep breath and using one of his fingers to show you the pouring rain. “You're not the best driver.”

With a harsh tone, you said, suddenly tossing the pillow over his face. “Did you just insult me?”

“That's not insulting,” Sam shot it back at you. “I'm just saying that you're no Hamilton.”

You said, “You have no idea,” and you couldn't help but smile as you recalled the day Dean forbade you from driving on rainy days after you nearly had an accident. Dean continued to get anxious when it started to rain while you were driving because of that day. His Baby was more important than anything. 

“Will you be watching TV or?” Taking back the remote control, Sam asked. 

“No, thanks; enjoy yourself.” Setting the pillow down next to the coach and stretching your arms, you yawned. 

You couldn't help but notice the agonizing heavy feeling in your chest as it began to flare up again like tiny needles as you made your way upstairs. Even though you didn't want to hear anything, you were listening for any sounds coming from Dean's room. As you passed, your movements almost seemed to slow down, but you quickly realized what was going on, and you entered the dark room where you would be spending the night, as if your brain didn't want to hear anything.

You had been repeatedly asked to leave the same house by Dean and Sam and start to live with them, but for whatever reason you were unaware of, you had refused. If they repeated the offer, you would most likely take it immediately. God, even if you just lived in the same house, you would probably fall even more in love with Dean. During hunts, it was even sufficient to see him for a few hours. Your heart ached to think about his face, his grin, and every joke he ever told.

Has the night some weeks ago caused you to ruin what you had? You didn't feel any regret, but as you noticed that Dean was becoming more aloof, regret started to consume you.

You'd just gotten out of the shower when your hands found one of Dean's t-shirts. You desired to wear it like you had some weeks prior. Back then, it wasn't a big deal; instead of complaining, he would just make jokes about how little and amusing you looked in them. But things were different today, and you knew it wouldn't be proper to wear it while he had a girlfriend.

If he truly had affections for someone, you didn't want to spoil things for him.

They laughed a little too loudly as you lay down on the bed and pressed his t-shirt against your chest as if it would bring him further closer. Dean's laughter mixed with Jo's. You tried, devastated, to focus on the soothing sounds of the falling rain and on the absurd or hazardous situations that had transpired during the hunts. It was useless. 

That was the moment you became aware of how really alone you were. Perhaps Sam was correct about telling you to pursue a romantic connection. However, how could it be possible when you were already deeply in love with someone? Anytime Dean was around, your heart felt like it was going to explode. You had no idea how to handle things like that. 

You set his shirt down and let it fall to the ground, acting as if doing so could shield you from the overwhelming feelings that Dean had given you. God, how could you possibly let go of your feelings for him when you couldn't even let go of a single piece of fabric with ease? 

You were so miserable and pathetic that you were unable to stop crying this time. You dreamed of something you could never have as the tears flowed down your cheeks and onto the bed. You will always cherish the beautiful memory the night gave you, but at what cost?

You were sobbing, but you weren't sure if it was from the noises Dean and Jo were making or from the dreams that could only have come true in your head. 

Your impulse to pick up Dean's t-shirt from the floor gradually vanished as your tears dropped to the bed and the pain consumed your entire being. Until today, you had no idea how much you actually loved him. 

“What happened?” With a big smile on her face, Jo placed her fingers around Dean's face and inquired in between laughter. She teased this thick neck with a quick, playful kiss. On his lap, she became still. 

Dean's fingers raised her skirt and were ready to push her underwear aside. Jo continued moving on Dean's lap, making herself wetter by rubbing herself over Dean's boxer, her hands lingering on his wide and bare chest with desire. 

“Nothing,” a rough-voiced Dean said. From the room where you were staying, he thought he heard something. He had heard you took the upstairs before he'd gone to the bathroom. You most likely made the decision to stay since it was pouring rain outside. You definitely didn't know how to drive in such conditions. He shuddered, remembering when you nearly crushed his baby and sent it to his sweet vehicle burial. 

Jo touched Dean's naked chest and paused her palm at his abs, saying, “You seem to be like thinking something else.”

“I wasn't,” Dean lied. It was not significant at all, so there was no need to provide details.

“I was just thinking though,” Jo said, attempting to find the right words to say. 

“About?”

“I think we'd be a great team, you know.” With a sly smile, Jo continued to stroke Dean's abs with the tips of her fingers. “As you are aware, Sam, you, and I would make an excellent team since we are now somewhat of a family, since I am also a hunter. Do you not think?”

Dean moved slightly on the bed, thinking of you, irritated at Jo's disregard for you, as if the details weren't even important. You were a member of the team. He was the one who initially made the offer to you in fact. Besides, they weren't even paired up. He said nothing about it so as not to hurt her feelings or make her feel humiliated if she brought it up. 

“How about Y/N?” In an attempt to lighten the mood and soften the air, Dean attempted to smile at her, but his smile did not reach his lips.

“She's a nurse,” Jo said, as if it were an insult. Dean felt uncomfortable and uneasy because Jo was attempting to push out the details of what she truly wanted to say about you. Despite her best efforts to seem polite, she came out as cunning and bitter. That was something Dean did not appreciate. 

“So?” Dean arched an eyebrow in questioning. “She is the only one still alive due to the terrible things that went wrong; her family was full of hunters just like ours. She doesn't even need to, yet she still has passion. That's very encouraging, in my opinion. I mean, continuing to work in the family business while also doing her professional job responsibilities. That requires guts.”

“Are you defending her?”

“I am,” Dean said in a firm and harsh manner. Jo was still on top of him, trying to get him to say nasty things about you, and he didn't enjoy her attempts at distracting him with handiwork. Dean felt unease and a strong sense of aggressiveness.

He never explicitly expressed his admiration for you for persevering through everything and for having the guts to face your fears. Jo recognized how much he genuinely admired you in his heart when he explained how excellent you were at what you did. Even though you occasionally were easily sidetracked, you were a professional.

Jo sighed, but she didn't give a damn about Dean's opinion of you. In the end, you posed no threat. For nothing at all. 

“I don't think your dad raised you and Sam for doing some charity to the orphan hunters and helping them to find a belonging,” Jo said. Although she made an effort not to seem cruel, it was the reality for her. “I am aware of the danger she took for Sam when you all were hunting last time. It is a weakness to be easily sidetracked in this.”

Dean's eyes grew enraged as Jo carried on speaking in a sinuous manner. She was aware of his dislike of others discussing the persons they cared about in this way. Particularly about the people he respected and gave enough thought to. 

Dean whispered, “Jo,” but it seemed more like he was threatening her. “Stop this fucking nonsense now. I'm serious.” 

“Do you have a soft spot for her or something?” Jo inquired once again. She also bit her lips invitingly while gently raising her skirt to reveal her pussy to Dean's gaze in an attempt to divert his focus elsewhere.

Her eyes were full of promise. In particular, Dean found it amusing when ladies looked at him with such passion. 

Dean immediately felt a sense of relaxation as his hands moved to her hips. He sighed and refused to answer. “Are we just going to talk?” he asked. She began removing her clothes rapidly while he licked his lips and observed. 

“Hopefully not,” Jo laughed in response. She was relieved that she and Dean had stopped talking about you. “Let our bodies talk in their very own, divine language.”

Dean switched the positions before she could say anything more. Now that he was on top of Jo, he was urgently kissing her while his mind was racing with ideas he wanted to put down for the night. 

Dean roughly spread Jo's legs wider and pulled her underwear aside, freeing himself from his boxer. With a single forceful shove that caused them both to moan loudly, he gave his firm cock a few strokes and pushed himself in Jo beforehand. That was an excellent way to get some real comfort now. 

Jo hadn't kept it low at all, so Dean put his hands on her mouth to silence her, causing her to sigh into his hands without intending to wake anyone. He picked up his speed and began to push into her rough and fast enough to satisfy both of them, knowing that she enjoyed being fucked raw and fast and that Dean also wanted to find his release. 

While he continued to fuck her, Dean warned her to "keep it low," suppressing his own groans.

She was, however, loudly groaning in Dean's hands, locking her legs around his hips, matching his speed as she raised her hips, as if she wanted everyone to know that she was getting fucked by Dean. Dean warned her to turn down the volume once more, but it didn't help.

In an attempt to find his release, Dean thrust into her more quickly, giving the impression that he was being forced to come—as if this were a mission or one of his hunts. He was striving to find his pleasure when he felt nervousness take over his body. He wasn't accustomed to feeling this way, especially around women.

His other hand tightened on Jo's tits, and he ran his fingers through her ass to help himself. His movements were forceful and impatient. All he wanted was for her to be somewhat silent so that he could focus more easily. It wasn't like Dean liked to be all crazy harsh on ladies or anything; he just needed to experience the closeness of a true, sincere touch, which was difficult to find at the moment.

He was on the verge of getting there, but he was unable to seize the ideal moment of pleasure and find relief.

Though it wasn't appropriate to think about it right now, Dean's thoughts began to form around the moment he and you had shared weeks earlier as he continued to stroke his hardness into Jo's warm pussy while muttering under his breath. It was as though his body had a mind of its own and knew when it was best for him to get what he was looking for.

His thoughts were hopelessly consumed by the sensation of your tightness and those moments of adorable small sounds that you attempted to hide from him. Dean attempted to concentrate on the woman who he was actually fucking into, not feeling proud of how he thought about you while he fucked Jo into the covers. Thinking about how he fucked you wasn't fair to no one at all. But his own body, which was attempting to steal what it desired by using Jo's body, was not under his control.

Him fucking Jo was becoming a battle between Dean's body and mind. Pleasure and reason; soul and mind.

Jo began to quiver instead of groan loudly, and as Dean withdrew his fingers from her lips, she cried out, “Will you come inside?” 

Dean instantly said, “No,” realizing that he hadn't been wearing a condom throughout his frantic sex with her. “Stay still.”

With a hint of rage, Dean sank his fingers into Jo's flesh and his head into her sweating neck, fiercely shutting his eyes. He was going insane as he struggled with his own thoughts, which were attempting to recall every little detail about your body and how you responded and tightened around his member. He didn't want to go back in time mentally and get pleasure thinking about the night with you while he was inside someone else. It wasn't fair for any. 

It was just an impulse decision made in the heat of the moment. Still, Dean's mind continued seeing the body underneath him to be yours, making him picture every single detail of how he took you and how you immediately clenched around him the moment he entered you. He was taken aback by how tight you were; you were like anyone he had ever fucked. 

As the fantasies overtook his thoughts, Dean became aware of his surroundings as Jo began to speak dirty to him, telling him how much she enjoyed it when he gave her such an aggressive fuck. Dean wasn't aware of himself till now that he started to fuck into her pussy quicker and harder.

Dean's body tensed as his eyes opened. He was pushing his cock in and out of Jo without intending to get off as he thought about you. He was a little caught by what had transpired in a split second. 

Jo gasped and said, “Why did you stop?” To regain his attention, she raised her hips higher. 

“Nothing,” Dean said, losing his temper and collapsing to his side as he felt his cock gradually soften. 

Jo was bewildered, but she became enraged when Dean abruptly quit fucking her and left her feeling unsatisfied. 

She sighed and said, “You want me to get on top?” although she sounded more like she was frustrated. 

“No.”

“What the hell is your problem?” she said, nailing Dean's chest. “Come on-”

“I said, 'no.' Alright?” In an attempt to disassociate himself from Jo, Dean stated. Even though he knew it was just about him, he tried to keep his cool down despite feeling like rage was taking him.

When she realized Dean wasn't in the mood and was most likely experiencing some sort of dysfunctional erection, she simply remarked, “Anyways,” without caring about it at all. “I promised to go out with some friends tonight, you know,” she said, putting on her clothes again.

“Alright. It's pouring outside though.”

“Yeah, and?”

With a sigh, Dean said, “Nevermind,” understanding that you were the only on who found driving in such weather difficult.

Dean quickly showered right after Jo departed the house, then jerked off just after he entered the bathroom. Even if things started to seem strange with Jo, his body still wanted some release to ease the tension. He was horny and furious at the same time. Though he was a man of action and he wasn't the biggest fan of taking himself in hand in the shower like a teenager, it worked this time. It felt good enough.

Dean gasped in frustration, picturing your gentle touches and the way he felt within you while he fucked Jo and how he thought about you while. The easiest way for him to regain control of his body was to stop. That was all—him and you were simply pals who took pleasure from each other for one night. You were lovely, so it wasn't that he wouldn't want to fuck you again, but it would just be weird. That was not Dean's type of thing. 

With one arm folded behind his head, Dean lay on the bed and tried not to think too much. Perhaps he was simply too exhausted.

Even though you were exhausted, your body woke up in the middle of the night due to a headache and a dry throat. You walked silently downstairs to the kitchen so as not to wake Sam, Dean, or his girlfriend. 

You cursed yourself for being so emotional and sensitive, crying your eyes out till you went to sleep. Perhaps you were about to have your monthly period very soon. You were forced to put on your headphones by Dean and his companion in order to block out the noises they created all night.

What a waste, you thought. Believing that once you committed yourself to Dean, things would improve between you two. The situation became worse because of it. There was now such a strong and lengthy barrier between you that, despite your best attempts to remain composed, you were unable to climb it at all without being exhausted. If you were more courageous than this, you would have let everything pass by, turned your back to the team, and concentrated on your actual work. 

After turning on the light and rubbing your swollen eyes, you sipped your water and sat down next to the window. You couldn't even get enough sleep, and you had to work all day. You required a long vacation. 

As soon as you placed the glass down on the kitchen sink, you turned around and saw Dean staring back at you. He was half nude, wearing just sweatpants; his broad chest was all naked. You jumped and gasped in fear because you didn't hear him approaching. 

Dean seemed a little confused for a moment when he saw your ruined hair and swollen eyes, but he said nothing. 

He stated, “You're so jumpy,” in a low voice as if another person may hear them. 

You paused in front of Dean and said, "I didn't hear you coming," but all you did was stand there and remain still, your heart racing. 

Ignoring him and returning to your room was difficult. Though your soul ached and yearned for more time with him, your mind knew that nothing would happen between you.

“Why are you still awake?”

You suddenly snapped, “Why are you questioning me?” but then you added, “I was thirsty.”

He said, “It makes us two,” and grabbed a glass of water for himself.

Can't help but notice how you looked, he remarked, “Your eyes appear somewhat swollen.” He couldn't help making a comment this time, a sense of concern overwhelming him.

Trying to sound convincing enough, you said in a hushed voice, “I just woke up. Couldn’t sleep properly.”

“You're going to work tomorrow, aren't you?” Dean inquired as if attempting to strike up a conversation after such a lengthy period. You haven't been speaking properly recently for the obvious reason. 

You answered, “Um, yeah,” and lightly stroked your hand to see whether it hurt. It no longer did. Thank goodness you weren't seriously injured. You've also taken plenty of time off from work. It would be best if you started working right away to take your mind off of Dean and all that was going on. There was a lot to take in. 

“But can you work though? Is your hand okay, by the way?”

“Yes, I suppose there's nothing to worry about. It's stopped hurting. Actually, I missed my job. It's been too long since I took a break.”

You took a deep breath and went to head back to your room, saying a quiet, "Good night," but Dean stopped you by grasping your arm after he finished his drink. “Wait,” he quietly whispered. 

He released his hold on you and gently caressed your skin in an attempt to apologize for being a little too harsh on you. You turned to face him, perplexed. “Yes?” you said as you awaited his next words. 

He seemed unable to find the right words to say, so he said, “Whatever happened during the hunting... It wasn't just your fault.” The moment he brought that case back, your heart pounded. 

You took a deep breath to keep yourself from being upset as you thought back to what he had said to you, his hurtful remarks, and how annoyed Dean was as a result of your distraction. 

You managed to stutter, “It's okay,” and try to smile sympathetically at him. “You are right in every way. I should have exercised more caution. After all, he's your brother.”

“No, I'm not right about everything.” Dean took a deep breath and held your still-healing hand. “I was responsible as much as you were. After all, I am the team's oldest member.” He attempted to lighten the situation with a smile, but for some reason neither of you felt like it. 

Dead had told you, just to your face, that Sam was extremely important to him, as if you had someone in your life to worry about. He hated himself for not being more compassionate after realizing he was simply being harsh.

“It was just... in the heat of the moment,” Dean made an effort to explain his behavior. But the way your eyes met, it seemed like he meant something very different.

“I know."

“I only wanted you to be more cautious; I didn't want to hurt you.” He looked into your reddened eyes and added, “Not just for me or Sam, but especially for your own good,” with such genuineness that it seemed he could see what a wreck you were on the inside. How messy you were.

“You did not hurt me at all. I will proceed with greater caution, as I had said previously.” You let his hands lightly brush across yours. Your heart had melted at such a simple, one-time gesture. Though you knew you couldn't, your body was aching to get closer to him. 

He finally released your hand after a little while. However, if he hadn't taken it in the first place, it would have hurt less. 

You hoped with all of your heart that this moment in the kitchen with Dean had gone differently. You wanted to be closer, cuddling, laughing, or doing anything else that would be tender and intimate. But you two were farther apart than before. Your eyes would have said everything about how much you wanted him if they could communicate.

“I honestly didn't intend any of the things I said to you before or later. I want you to understand this.”

“I do, Dean.”

Dean said, “I know things are a little awkward between us, but I don't want it to be like this,” before you could say anything more. “I hope that you continue to feel at ease with me. I suppose we haven't discussed it appropriately so far about this.”

Your cheeks suddenly flushed scarlet at the mention of your circumstance, and fear shot through your veins “It's really okay,” you nodded to him and replied in a hurry. “Everything's alright.” 

You felt burdened with the thought that he could be concerned that you might tell Jo. Should that be his worry, you might reassure and soothe him. In a whisper, you said, “I wouldn't...tell Jo.” 

Dean opened his mouth to say something, then scowled instead. His expression showed signs of uncertainty. Given how often they had been hooking up only, he wasn't really sure if he and Jo were a thing at all. 

He felt a little guilty as well as responsible for initiating the kiss that night since he was aware it was him. 

“You know, I don't want you to feel awkward. Don't let anything go to waste or let this ruin what we have.”

Your heart raced with hopelessness again as Dean blatantly said that he wanted nothing to change and that you should move on from the past. At this point, you couldn't tell if he was genuinely unaware of your emotions. It was better if he hadn't even opened his mouth in the first place and stayed silent. 

Since you believed you were trying your best to keep things calm between you and him and maintain whatever relationship you had with him, you wanted to ask him if there was anything you could have done to make him feel that way about you or did you make him feel uncomfortable around you. It wasn't like you were still holding out hope. You were not anticipating this any longer.

Despite his repeated promises not to hurt you, he continued to do so without even realizing it.

You nodded to him quickly and answered, “Of course, I don't want this either,” with a heavy heart. “I would not want to ruin.”

You gave him a little smile and a mumble of "good night," then turned back toward your room. You would have found the strength to cry a little bit more if your eyes weren't sore from crying so much hours before. But at that moment, all you wanted to do was sleep, without really considering anything.

Next Chapter

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A/N: Please, let me know what you think about this one. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! ^^

Taglist: @procrastination20 @faiirynyaa @deangirl96 @steelthespooder @t1asstuff @slut-for-evans-stan @esposamultifandom @rebecca-hvnstn @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @filmologetica @n-o-p-e-never

@midnightpearlaurora @mango-munchies @zaratahir @sammyxorae @opheliadynah @spxideyver

[calthinez]

Pink, Sweet smelling dust

Paring: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: While on a witch hunt, you and Dean get some sort of dust thrown on you. After Dean ganks her, you two high-tail it to the bunker thinking the worst. Turns out that witch got her dusts mixed up and hit you guys with an aphrodisiac.

A/N: I heart Dean Winchester. The relationship between the two of you is unspecified and its implied that this is the first time you guys are having sex. I love the sex pollen au :P

Warnings: NSFW(18+) car sex, rough sex, unprotected sex

Your heart was beating so fast. You could figure out if it was from the fear of what was to come from that dust, or if it was from the dust. Looking up at Dean, he seems to be taking this a lot better than you, or he was at least pretending to.

The two of you were fast-paced walking to the Impala, not even caring to clean up the mess that was made. "Your heart beating fast, too?" You asked, voice laced with worry.

"Yeah, but don't worry about it. We'll be fine." Dean said as he fished his car keys out of his pockets. You couldn't tell if he actually believed that, though, or if he was just trying to make you feel better. The hunt was going fine right up until she blew pink, sweet smelling dust into your faces. "What the fuck was that?" Dean had yelled at her. She only gave him a dry laugh in response with a suspenseful "You'll see"

Dean had no hesitation when he shot her in the chest, only checking to make sure she was actually dead before grabbing you and high- tailing to the car.

Once the two of you got in the car Dean wasted no time putting the key in the ignition. You barely had time to buckle your seat belt before he sped off, causing the dirt on the road to fly into the air. Even with Dean going thirty over the speed limit, the car ride is at least half an hour long. You have no idea how your going to survive that, especially with the growing ache between your legs.

The only thing you can think about is your doomed fate. There was no time-limit on how long this would take before it ends the both of you. For all you know it would take only a minute.

Dean notices the anxiousness spread all across your face. He reaches his hand over the comfortingly pats your knee. You realize hes trying to make you feel less scared but you suddenly become hyper-aware of your body and how hot you feel.

Its just his hand on my knee. You think to yourself. There's no reason to get all excited from that.

He leaves his hand on your knee, and all you can think about now is where else he could put his hands. On your thighs? On your chest? In your mouth? Inside of you- You shudder and close your eyes tightly at that thought.

Its not that you haven't thought about Dean like that, you were sure just about everyone who met him has. You just never had it take such a big effect on you especially when you're right next to him.

Dean takes your shudder as a shudder of anxiety, so he trails his hand up ever so slightly and presses his fingers into the skin of your thigh.

The only sound in the car is the humming from the engine, none of Deans usual songs playing. At a time like this, you wish the radio was on to distract you.

You stick out your tongue to wet your dry lips. Deans hand that isn't on your thigh is gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles are turning white. His movements are stiff and his eyes are locked on the road, not sparing you a glance. You wonder if he has the same problem as you, if he also has an ache between his legs. You quickly glance down to his pants and see that, yes, he does have the same problem, the large tent in his pants being painfully obvious.

Dean turns his head immediately to you when you let out a little whimper at the sight of his bulge. You avoid eye contact, desperately staring out of the car window.

"You okay?" he asks you, his gruff voice adding to the fire in your belly.

"Yup," you squeak out. What is this man doing to you? You can hardly think straight.

Dean doesn't believe you, not in the slightest. It takes a minute for the gears in his head to turn before he realizes; you feel the same way he does. He originally chocked it up to you being scared, but he knows that is not the case. Dean slides his hand up higher on your thigh, you suck in a quick breath at the feeling.

"You sure?" He asks you with an underlying tone of arousal. You look back to him as you angle your leg to lean towards his body. "Mhm." You mumble out.

The fingers on your upper thigh slowly creep to the junction of your hip and thigh, there Dean rubs small circles into your flesh. His touch is lighting you on fire. Your breathing picks up and the ache between your legs rapidly intensifies.

On the old dirt roads Dean pulls off to the side, stopping close to the trees that line the road. He puts the car in park and turns off the vehicle. There was no cars on the road this late at night, It was just you two.

"You feel it too?" He asks you, just incase this is actually just one big coincidence and he read into it too much.

You nod your head yes and unbuckle your seat belt, Dean does the same. There is a pregnant pause where the both of you just look at each other, unsure of what to do. You cannot take this feeling anymore, though. You almost pounce on Dean. You crash your lips against his as his hand come up to hold your jaw in place. The kiss is messy, unsynchronized with teeth bumping against teeth and tongues sloppily licking at each other's mouth.

Dean uses his free hand to push you back onto the flat seat of the car. It's a good thing that the car has the big bench seats or else this would be a lot more uncomfortable. You're now laying down under Dean, his hand roughly grabbing at your boobs. You moan into the kiss.

Dean roughly pulls down your pants, leaving you in just your panties. All embarrassment you might have had has been overshadowed by your need to be fucked by Dean. You bring your hand down to grip Deans hard cock through his pants, he lets out a hoarse moan at the friction. You make work on unbuttoning his pants and also pulling them down.

Skipping all foreplay it seems you both feel like you'll explode if you aren't fucking as soon as possible, hell, you actually might. You pull down Deans boxers just low enough for you to free his cock. You jerk him a few times before he breaks the kiss. "Can I fuck you?" He says, you're literally jerking him off but he just wants to make sure. Ever the gentleman.

You enthusiastically nod your head up and down, giving him the go-ahead.

He takes his cock in his own hand and uses his other hand to push your panties to the side, allowing him access to your wet pussy. He pushed into you, both of you releasing pent up moans. His cock is big, and you barely have anytime to adjust to his size before he roughly grabs your hips with both of his hands and starts thrusting into you.

Dean leans down to your neck to kiss and suck on your pulse point as you're moaning sweet praises to him, urging him to keep going. The windows start to fog up from both of your heavy breaths being released. Its an erotic scene, thats for sure. The both of you in the front seat fucking like you're depraved.

There's definitely going to be bruises on your hips, you think to yourself. You lock your legs around Deans torso. Deans moans are like music to your ears, going straight to your impending orgasm. Your nails scratch at his back.

"Fuck- I'm close." You moan out into Deans ear.

"Yeah me too, sweetheart." His pace never relents, though, even with his orgasm quickly approaching. If anything it speeds up.

You can feel the coil in your belly tighten like no other time before. Your hands are grasping and clawing at Deans shoulders as your back arches, pushing your chest to his.

The coil in your belly snaps hard. Harder than any time before. You screw your eyes shut and loudly cry out as you cum around Deans cock.

It takes Dean no time to be cumming, as well. He cums inside of you, not that you care you're too fucked out to be thinking about anything other than your orgasm.

You slowly release your legs' hold on Deans waist. The both of you trying to catch your breath from your climax. He slowly pulls out of you and tucks himself back into his pants. Dean sits back up-right on the seat and you follow suit. You fix your panties and pull your pants up.

The both of you just sit in silence for a moment, collecting your thoughts. You notice that you no longer feel anxious or ill, like the sex completly cured you... Oh. You think you figured it out. You open your mouth to say someting to the man next to you but he beats you to it.

"I think it was a sex powder."

[happy74827]

Forced to Listen

[Dean Winchester x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Dean hated it when you hunted him down for advice, and he also hated that you knew exactly how to bait him into listening.

WC: 1082

Category: Fluff, Ranter!Reader, Mentions of Cheating, Sam being absolutely useless (iconic).

Can you believe that it’s been TWO WHOLE YEARS since I last wrote of him?? I’m so angry at myself 😭😭

『••✎••』

Dean could sense what was coming when he watched you stomp towards him with nothing but a small bottle of beer. The look on your face was one he had come to recognize over the years.

It was the one that said that you were about to coerce him into listening to your woes, and he had no other choice but to do it. The heat outside was unbearable, the kind that made Dean strip off his flannel and ditch the leather jacket, leaving him in his sweat-covered shirt.

But as he stood under the hood of the Impala, trying to get her to start, that bottle of beer was calling his name. The promise of the cool, carbonated drink sliding down his throat, relieving him from the dryness that had settled in his mouth, was something he desperately craved. And you knew that. That's why you were headed straight for him.

"Hey, Dean," you said innocently, the small bottle of beer dangling from your hand.

Dean sighed, his gloved hands pausing as he glanced up at you. He really wasn’t in the mood to listen to you whine about what was going on in your life, but that bottle of beer was too tempting to pass up. It was his favorite brand, too.

Goddamn it, you really were a temptress.

"Two minutes,” he grunted out, holding his hand out for the beer. "I'll give you two minutes."

You grinned, placing the bottle of beer in his open hand. In a matter of seconds, half the liquid was gone, and you were waiting impatiently for him to give you the sign to begin.

After another second, a sigh of content slipped from his mouth, and he nodded, signaling you to start.

You didn’t waste any time. "Do you think I'm a bitch?"

"I think you're a pain in my ass," Dean retorted, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. It didn’t make much difference since his hand was already covered in dirt and grease, but it made him feel a little better. "Don’t tell me you came over here just to ask me that?"

"No, I'm serious, Dean," you insisted. "Do you actually think I'm a bitch?"

You were staring up at him now, the look on your face completely unreadable. You were waiting for an answer, but he had a feeling that no matter what answer he gave, it wouldn't make a difference.

So, he just raised his eyebrows, silently telling you to go on while he took another sip of his beer.

"Dating's hard, Dean," you started, and he already felt a groan coming on. He did not want to have this conversation. "I just don't get it. Why am I not good enough for them? Why do I keep getting cheated on?"

You were pacing around the car as you spoke, and Dean kept his eyes on the beer. As you went on about everything that was bothering you, the more he regretted his decision to drink that damn thing.

"Am I not attractive? Am I not smart enough? What is it, Dean?" You looked at him, hoping for an answer. But when you realized he wasn't paying that much attention to what you were saying, you let out a scoff. "Great, so I'm not even good enough for you to listen to me? God, Dean, you are such a douche."

Dean rolled his eyes and finally looked up at you, the annoyance clearly visible. "Can I get back to fixing up my baby, now?"

"Would you date me?" You asked, suddenly, a hint of desperation in your voice. "Am I worth dating?"

God, you were killing him. He’d rather get heatstroke than continue this conversation, and he was sure Sammy would agree on his behalf.

He could actually see his baby brother from where he stood. He was a few yards away, sitting in the shade. A book in his hand, but his eyes were on the two of you.

Was he…? Oh hell no.

He was laughing.

Sammy was having a good time watching him squirm under your gaze, doing absolutely nothing despite avoiding the work Bobby needed help with.

Oh, was Dean pissed off. He’d get his payback soon, hopefully. It would be whenever he actually gets away from you and fixes up his car. Baby always comes first.

"I mean, c'mon, Dean," you pressed on. "Just give me some advice. You were with so many women, and they were all beautiful and perfect, so what's wrong with me?"

You were pouting, and Dean felt like throwing his beer bottle on the ground and stomping on it. This was the worst two minutes of his life.

"There’s nothing wrong with you,” he finally said, looking you in the eye. "You could be a pain in the ass, but unfortunately, I’m apparently the only one who has to deal with it, so... yeah. You're fine."

"Fine? I'm fine?"

"Yup," Dean replied. He turned back to the Impala, taking the last swig of his beer and tossing the empty bottle into your hands. "Thanks for the beer. Is that all?”

"I just feel… I don't know. I feel like I'm not good enough, ya know?" You said a sad look on your face. "Like there's something wrong with me. Something that's making everyone leave me."

"Listen," Dean started. He looked at you again, but all of his annoyance was gone. The two minutes were definitely up; he could quite literally kick you out of sight, but with the look you had on your face, he just couldn’t do it.

So, despite Sam’s utter lack of help, he was going to do his best to try to make you feel better.

"It's not you, alright?" He assured. "There's nothing wrong with you. If a guy can't see that, then he doesn't deserve you, okay? Trust me, you will have no problem finding someone else."

The corners of your lips twitched, turning into a small smile. "Yeah?"

Dean nodded, giving you a smirk. "If you want, I could always give out the ole hunter's special with your past one. Bobby could use a new rug for his living room."

A loud snort slipped past your mouth, and Dean was satisfied.

"Okay, Winchester," you said. "This is my sign to get the hell out of here."

And so you did, but before you could get even slightly close to the house, he called out to you.

"Oh, and by the way," he said, a small smile forming on his face. If you thought it was going to be wholesome, then you were sorely mistaken.

"Next time you come to me to talk about your feelings, at least have a damn pie."

[godjustkys]

| mndi 18+

| What a perv.

please give requests.

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

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Genre: smut.

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Word count: 2,357

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[wildwestdean]

enmity

based on both this request by @nochedie, and this request by @somethingsomethingcranberries! thank you so much for sending these in! 🤍🤍

summary: this wasn't the first time a hunt had gone wrong. sure, the injuries dean patched up for you were a little worse than usual, but it was nothing new - so, why was he so pissed off about it?

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

word count: 7.1k+

warnings: working a case/hunting, mentions of missing kids, gore, blood, reader gets injured, stitches + motel room first aid, descriptions of wounds, swearing, angst, hurt/comfort, nicknames, yelling, fighting, mature themes, kinda slow burn but not really, minor self-doubt (reader), dean acts like a dick, name calling (stupid, idiot), best!friend sam, mentions of pain killers, alcohol consumption, confessions, idiots in love, fluff, brief mention of age gap

You sat in your motel room with books and papers scattered across the bed, and a plethora of tabs open on your laptop.

“Anything?” you asked with a sigh, looking up at Sam who was across the room - the table he sat at practically mirroring your bedspread.

He huffed and set his book down, leaning back in his chair while running a hand through his hair. 

Your shoulders slumped at his reaction, a frustrated chuckle escaping your lips. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

He shook his head, glaring at the pages in front him before meeting your gaze. “I don’t get it. At all.” 

You tilted your head, eyes narrowing in confusion. “Get what?”

Sam’s eyes widened, and he waved his hands over the littered table. “This! This whole case. I mean, there’s zero background for this- this- whatever it is!” he exclaimed. 

“Okay, maybe we should just take a break? Dean should be back with the food soon...” you trailed off as a passage suddenly caught your attention, fingers tapping atop your knee as you scanned the page.

He noticed the shift in your demeanour and sat up straight, looking at you intently. “Did you find something?” he asked hopefully. 

You shook your head as you glanced at him. “No, I don’t think so, but-” you cut yourself off, feeling unsure, but you could practically feel him watching you, his eyebrows raised as he waited for you to continue. “What if we’re looking in the wrong place?” 

“How so?” he questioned. 

“Okay, well,” you started. “Right now we’re looking for things that are common around here and travel in groups. Like werewolves, demons, or vampires, right?”

Sam nodded his head, looking at you as if you were losing your mind. “Yeah…” he said slowly. 

Huffing at the fact he wasn’t following, you carried on. “So, right now we’re looking for groups of monsters. Monsters that are likely native to this area. Maybe that’s why we can’t find anything,” you tried to explain. 

Sam nodded, eyes lighting up in realization. “So… you’re not only thinking this is something mainly solitary, but also not typically known to show face around here? Like Lamia?”

“Yes, exactly! Technically there’s multiple, but-” 

“There were only two found around here,” Sam finished for you, clearly deep in thought. 

Folding your arms over your chest, you leaned back against the headboard. “What do you think?” you asked softly. 

He grabbed his laptop and placed it in front of him. “I don’t know,” he sighed. “Seems like it could be a good shot, though.”

You smiled once more, gathering up the abandoned books and loose papers just as the motel door creaked open. 

“So, what did you nerds find out while I was gone?” Dean asked, clicking the door shut behind him.

You opened your mouth to answer, but Sam beat you to it. “Girl wonder over there may have just found us a good lead,” he said, eyes still locked on his computer as his head jerked in your direction. 

Dean beamed at you as he set the bags down, settling for the empty chair across from Sam when he couldn’t find any free space on the table. “That’s my girl!” he cheered. “What did you find?”

Trying to prevent a blush from blooming across your face because of his comment, you focused on organizing the piles of research in front of you. “Sam’s giving me too much credit, I didn’t even find anything concrete.” 

Dean walked over and sat down on the other bed, a look of interest on his face. You shifted nervously as he accidentally brushed your knee along the way, feeling your heart rate quicken like a smitten teenager. You glanced up and caught Sam’s eye, and his gaze darted between you and Dean before resting on his laptop screen, a tiny smirk playing at his lips. 

“Tell me what ya got,” Dean said, popping open a bottle of beer that seemed to appear out of nowhere. 

You shrugged dismissively. “Like I said, nothing concrete. I just suggested to Sam that we were looking in the wrong place.” 

Dean shook his head, taking a sip of his beer. “You already lost me.” 

“I mean, most things we’ve hunted have come in swarms, and were typically common to the area. I suggested that perhaps we were hunting a singular thing, something foreign, like when you guys took down that Lamia,” you supplied, standing up with a stack of books to move out of the way. 

You could practically feel Sam’s smirk behind your back as you set things on the dresser. Ever since you realized that, when it came to Dean, you felt something stronger than your adopted kinship, you confided in Sam. He’s been one of your best friends and confidants for as long as you’ve known him, yet a small part of you regrets telling him; he still refuses to let you live it down, and is smug as shit about it at every possible moment. Between him, and the fact that your behaviour is growing increasingly uncharacteristic around Dean due to the fear of your own feelings, it won’t be long until Dean realizes that something is going on.

Dean laughed softly behind you, and you were thankful he couldn't see the smile that grew on your face because of the sound. “Assuming I even remember what the hell this Lima-”

“Lamia,” you and Sam both pitched in to correct him. 

“Whatever,” Dean huffed. “What makes you think this thing is some lonely foreigner?” 

Shrugging your shoulders as you set the last book down on the stack, you thought about it. “I don’t really know,” you said, spinning around and walking back to your bed. “Just a hunch, I guess? I mean, I could be really off base here.”

“Nah, your hunches are never wrong, sweetheart,” Dean told you, bringing his bottle to his smirking lips. 

You heard Sam snicker, and you sent him a death glare before declaring that you were starving. 

Setting the bottle on the nightstand, Dean eagerly stood up and grabbed the bags. “I got your favourite,” he declared, sporting a proud grin as he brought it to you. 

“Thanks, De,” you said earnestly, matching his grin as you took it from him.

One quick glance confirmed that he didn’t forget a single detail of your order, and you felt your heart swell about three sizes. 

“Sammy?” Dean asked tentatively, looking over to his brother now; the remnants of his smile still lingering.

Sam shook his head, keeping his eyes locked on his screen. “You can go ahead, I’m not all that hungry right now.”

Rather than argue, you and Dean simply shared a look and shrugged before digging in. The three of you brainstormed some more while you ate, resulting in Sam sending you and Dean an occasional look of ‘stop talking with your mouths full, it's disgusting’ - which only encouraged you both to do it more.

Eventually, Sam had all he could take and shut his laptop with a groan. “I’ll be in my room,” he muttered, all but storming away to the room next door. 

He always got his own room whenever he could, given that not only was he often up late with a lamp burning to carry on with research, but he was also always up before the sun to go for a run if the case allowed for it. It was now more than ever, though, that you assumed he got his own room to also just escape the pestering from you and Dean. 

You both watched him march out of sight for a moment before Dean turned to you, the corners of his mouth twitching. 

“It’s just too easy sometimes,” you giggled. 

He couldn’t help but snort a laugh, a grin taking over both your faces as you high-fived. 

The two of you carried on together for the rest of the night; working on the case a little more, coming up with new ways to mess with Sam, settling onto your bed to watch a few episodes of your favourite show - one that he always complains about, yet refuses to miss a single episode of.

It was the same as every night. 

Only this time, you could’ve sworn that he sat a little closer to you. That he laughed a little harder at your jokes. You even thought that you saw more fondness than usual reflected in his gaze whenever he turned to smile at you.

Yet, you didn’t dwell on it. You couldn’t dwell on it. 

It was a dangerous game to think that he saw you the way that you saw him, and it was a game you refused to play. 

A few days later, you were all seated around the room again, growing increasingly frustrated over the lack of answers. Children kept disappearing, no one knew why, and panic was rising. 

You scrolled through the page, sitting up straight as something caught your eye; and you noticed Sam do the same a few moments later. 

“Gurumāpā!” you both yelled, looking at each other. 

Dean looked up from the book he was searching through to stare at the two of you. “Uhh... gesundheit?"

“The Nepalese bogeyman,” you confirmed, ignoring Dean’s confusion. 

“You really think?” Sam asked. 

You spoke quickly, excited yet unsure “I mean, I don't know. It could be. It’s our best shot. Stories vary here and there but the moral is the same.”

“He takes disobedient kids,” Sam agreed with a nod. 

Dean shut his book with a snap. “Great! So, where do we find it, and how do we kill it?” 

You opened your mouth, but had nothing. You looked at Sam, but he only shrugged. 

“Awesome,” Dean sighed, resting his cheek on his palm as he dramatically threw the book back open to flick through the pages. 

“Are we sure about this?” you asked suddenly, having two heads snap to attention. 

Dean spoke first. “Are we ever?”

“Dean’s right, most of the time we barely have a leg to stand on,” Sam added. 

“I know, but,” you started to say. “Why’s he here? He’s supposed to be secluded on a field in Nepal. It doesn’t make sense he’s here.”

“Nothing ever makes sense,” Dean said, rubbing his eyes. “This is the best lead we’ve had so far, we can’t turn back now. For all we know, someone could’ve found a way to summon him- hell, or smuggle him here.” 

Sam nodded. “It has happened before,” he reminded, and you all took a silent moment to remember that case before shuddering. 

“We’ve done a lot more with a lot less - so come on,” Dean said, tapping a finger on your laptop to get you to keep reading. 

You obliged with a heavy sigh, and silence stretched on for a few more hours; all of you painstakingly searching through any book or entry you could get your hands on. You, working on finding a possible location this thing could be camping out in, while they tried to find a way to kill it. 

You considered it a lucky break when Dean announced he may have found something, thus allowing him to help you when Sam took it upon himself to dive deeper on what was discovered. 

After a few more hours, you all found yourselves outside of town and surrounded by nothing but abandoned farmland and its ramshackled buildings.

“Great, so… now what?” Dean asked, surveying the expanse of seemingly endless land. 

“I guess we split up? Try and find any kids first?” Sam suggested with a shrug. 

Opening your mouth to respond, you were quickly cut off by Dean. 

“No,” he said firmly, taking a subconscious step closer to you. “We don’t even know if what we’re after is what we think we’re after.”

“So?” you asked, glancing up at him. “It wouldn’t be the first time.” 

“No,” he repeated, shaking his head. “I don’t like it. We stay together until we get a better feel for what’s going on.” 

“Well, let’s go then,” you declared, slinging your duffel over your shoulder and strolling down the path. 

The brothers were hot on your heels, the only sounds to be heard being the gravel under your shoes and the birds up above as you explored the property.

“This isn’t gonna work, Dean,” Sam huffed after a while. “This place is massive and we’re wasting time. It’s gonna be dark soon.” 

“He’s right, De,” you agreed softly. “We need to split up.” 

“Fine, okay,” Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “Do not do anything stupid. Call the second you find anything, got it?” he added with a pointed look; seemingly only directed at you.

“Yeah, I got it,” you said in annoyance. “I’m not an idiot.” 

“I never said-” Dean started to argue before Sam interrupted with a loud groan. 

“Guys? Can we, like, not do that now? Kinda life or death here.” 

“Right, yeah,” Dean grumbled with a curt nod. “No one get dead,” he muttered, choosing a direction and walking off.

You and Sam exchanged a quick glance before following suit, heading off in your own directions. 

The sun was getting lower and lower on the horizon, and you grew increasingly frustrated as every single place you checked came up empty. 

You were just about ready to start landing punches on some unsuspecting barnwood when you heard it. It was quiet, distant, but unmistakable. 

Someone - or something, you guessed - was in the next building.

It was dark. 

Dark and quiet. 

Why was it so dark? 

The sun still wasn’t set as you stepped into the barn, and that was only moments ago; wasn’t it? 

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to recall what happened: the noise that caught your attention, the apparent nesting ground you came upon, the footsteps behind you, the struggle, the fight, the searing pain as you were sent flying.

A small whimper escaped you as it all came back, breathing rapidly as you realized you were alone with no idea what was happening outside these creaking walls. You tried to move, but searing pain shot through you, a hand instinctively going to your side to instantly become warm and slick. 

“Dean?” you tried to call out, but his name only came as a broken sob. 

Choking back tears, you forced yourself to calm down so you could listen to your surroundings; yet all you could hear was your own heart pounding in your ears. 

“Dean?” you tried again, but it was like all the air was being stolen from your lungs. 

Taking a big breath, you forced yourself to your feet with a yell, bracing yourself on the closest beam you could find as you fumbled for your phone. Panic continued to rise within you when you realized it wouldn’t turn on, and fear for the boys’ whereabouts turned your blood to ice. 

Moonlight was filtering into the barn through the slats, piercing the darkness around you just enough to help you see the way out. You didn’t know where you’d go once getting outside, but you knew you just had to get outside. Forcing yourself to move once more, you pushed off the beam and trudged through the rubble and debris, heading towards the opening you had squished yourself through to get in here. Shoving your way back out, however, was not as easy, and you couldn’t help but let out a scream as the wood pressed into your wound on the way through. 

Suddenly, you heard your name being called. It was soft, like an echo in the distance, but you recognized the voice - you would know it anywhere. 

“Dean-” you attempted to call in return, but you still couldn’t find your voice. 

Once you were completely outside, you made your way in the direction you thought he was in, trying to keep pressure on the wound as best you could; thankfully, it didn’t seem to be bleeding too badly. Your head was absolutely pounding, and you weren’t sure if your vision was blurry, or if it was just too dark to clearly make anything out. Nevertheless, you carried on, using Dean as a beacon to guide your way. 

The second you saw his familiar silhouette appear up ahead, you knew you were safe. You knew you could finally let yourself give in to the pain and exhaustion, collapsing to your knees with a heavy sigh. 

You faintly registered him yelling out your name before sprinting towards you, his voice growing louder as he got closer.

“Hey,” he cried out, skidding to his knees in front of you. “Hey, look at me. Look at me,” he pleaded, cupping your face in his hands in a desperate attempt to try and meet your gaze.

“The barn,” you said urgently. “I tried to-”

“It’s okay,” Dean hushed you, shaking his head. “It’s okay, you’re okay, we got it.” 

“You got it?” you asked hazily.

“We got it, sweetheart,” he assured, his fingers brushing away your hair to try and examine you better. “It’s over, you’re okay.”

“I don’t feel okay,” you admitted quietly. 

Your vision grew even cloudier, and you didn’t know if it was your consciousness slipping away, or more tears starting to flow. 

“No, you’re okay,” he said shakily, wiping away what must have been tears. 

You nodded in response, but the movement caused your breath to hitch as the pain grew worse, and your hands shakily reached up to grab his wrists in a feeble attempt to stop everything from spinning. 

It was at this exact moment he noticed your hands were painted with your own blood, and the fear that surged through him as he glanced down made him want to throw up. Quickly slipping his flannel off, he wrapped it around you with unsteady hands, tying it tightly after warning you it might hurt.

“See?” he asked nervously, swallowing thickly. “It’s not even that bad, alright? It’s not that bad.”

The fact that it was too dark to properly assess the damage was setting his nerves on fire, and at this point he didn’t know whether he was trying to convince you or himself that everything was fine. 

He doesn’t even remember calling out for Sam, yet he must have, because his brother was suddenly skidding to a stop beside him after finally finding you.

Sam took a moment to assess you himself, though once realizing there was nothing that could be done right here and now, he decided it was time to move. 

“Can you walk?” Sam asked you, trying to keep his voice steady. 

“Not as quickly as you two gigantor’s can,” you admitted, huffing a bitter laugh. 

Neither of them laughed with you, and they shared a pointed look that you couldn’t see. 

Dean dug in his pocket, pulling out his keys before tossing them to Sam. “Get the car and start heading our way. We’ll meet you.” 

“Got it,” Sam nodded, sprinting away. 

“Alright, let’s get you up, sweetheart,” Dean announced softly, grabbing you as firmly as he dared. “Ready?” 

With a tiny nod of your head, you let out a groan as he helped guide you to your feet, letting you lean heavily on him for support. 

“Good,” Dean encouraged. “Good. How’re you feeling?” 

“Tired,” you breathed out, resting your heavy head on his shoulder. 

“Okay, hey,” he called, gently lifting your head back up. “I’m gonna carry you, alright? But I need you to stay awake. Can you do that for me?” 

You really, really wanted to say no. It seemed like he had three heads, all dancing around in front of you, and all you wanted was to close your eyes. You didn’t understand why you couldn’t. 

“Why?” you asked, clearly confused.  

“Can’t let you sleep until I check out that head,” he told you, getting ready to scoop you up into his arms as gently as he could. 

You were somehow even more confused. “My head?” you asked, before letting out a strangled gasp as he picked you up.

“It’s bleeding,” he pointed out, swallowing down the lump that formed in his throat.

As if in a way of question, you gingerly brought your fingers up to the side of your head - only to flinch in response as you came in contact with what must’ve been another wound. “Oh.”

It wasn’t long before the world around you became aglow with headlights, and Sam pulled to a screeching stop before rushing to help Dean get you in the back seat.

“Are we close to a hospital?” Dean asked, placing your head on his lap as Sam spun the car around. 

“Not at all. The motel’s our closest option right now,” answered Sam. 

“Fine, then drive faster,” Dean ordered, running a hand through your hair. 

“I’m going as fast as I can, Dean,” Sam grumbled. 

“Well, I said go faster,” Dean replied curtly, before fully turning his attention back to you.

He focused on keeping you talking as Sam sped towards the motel - discussing the latest episodes of your show the two of you had watched, how there was a new movie playing that he wanted to take you to see once back at home, that during the drive back home he’d stop at that cute cafe you spotted on the outskirts of town earlier this week; anything that came to mind, he said it.

There were multiple motives behind him doing so: to keep you distracted from the pain, to keep you awake, to keep him distracted from your pain, and to try and gauge how bad that head injury was - so far, it didn’t seem to be so much damaging as just a nasty blow. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, and the wound by your hip wasn’t bleeding as much, so he was hoping all it would need was a few good stitches once he could look at it. 

The panic he had felt since first finding you was finally starting to subside, yet he had still never been so thankful to pull into a dingy motel parking lot before. After carefully leading you to your room, he and Sam both took turns to evaluate your wounds and current condition. 

“Looks worse than it is,” Sam told you, letting out a breath of relief. “Definitely gonna be sporting a nice goose egg for a while, maybe a stitch or two, but your head seems fine.”

“Oh, yeah. Totally fine,” Dean pitched in, sarcasm dripping from the words. “What about that nice gash on her side - what would you say that is, Sammy? Four, maybe five inches?”

“Dean,” Sam chastised, shooting him a warning look. 

“Oh, here we go. Sammy the protector,” Dean muttered, heading to gather the first aid kit. “Well where the hell were you when she got turned into Raggedy Ann, huh?”

“Where was I? Where the hell were you?” Sam spat back with a scoff. 

“I was the one who didn’t want to split up in the first place!” yelled Dean, snatching a bottle of liquor off the counter to use as a disinfectant.  

“Guys?” you cut in, hoping to stop them before it escalated. 

“What?” they both shouted, turning their attention to you 

“Oh,” Sam said, realizing he was now yelling at you. “Sorry,” he added awkwardly, clearing his throat. 

Dean, on the other hand, remained quiet as he approached you. His face was as dark as an impending storm, yet his hands remained as gentle as the touch of a summer breeze while he tended to you.

Time stretched on, and the silence that now filled the room was almost harder to bear than the needle Dean was currently threading through your skin. You cast a glance over at Sam, hoping for some reprieve, but he looked just as helpless as you were. 

“Did you end up finding anyone?” you asked tentatively, addressing the room instead of either Sam or Dean.

“Sam brought a couple kids over to the station while I looked for you,” Dean informed, voice as taught as the suture he pulled through for one final knot. 

“That’s good,” you replied, wringing your fingers together. “What about-” 

“Everything got dealt with, alright?” Dean interrupted, cutting the excess material off with a harsh snip as he finished his stitching. 

“Okay,” you said, feeling like a scolded child. “Look, I-” 

Your words got stuck in your throat as Dean stood abruptly, tossing everything aside before storming over to the sink. You watched as he stiffly scrubbed your blood from his hands, the silence becoming as overbearing as before until Sam broke it. 

“Look, you just…” he trailed off, as if he were testing the water before continuing. “You really scared the hell out of us.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said, mainly because you didn’t know what to say. It’s not like you meant to get attacked, for crying out loud. 

“Sorry?” Dean barked, whipping around to face you. “You’re sorry?” 

You stared at him, watching as the fury swirled in his eyes while you thought of what you were supposed to say. 

“Okay- maybe we should all take a breather here,” Sam quickly jumped in, trying to diffuse his brother’s anger. 

“No, I don’t think so,” Dean said, dismissing the idea as he stared daggers at you. “I think we should go ahead and talk about what a goddamn idiot you were back there!” 

The words felt like a slap in the face, and they hurt more than anything else you endured tonight. “I was not an idiot.” 

“No?” he asked, stepping towards you. “Because last I checked, you were supposed to call us if you found something! Not go blindly running in to meet who knows what without any fucking backup!” 

“Oh, please!” you groaned, already fed up. “Just how was that gonna work, Dean? I just stand there and wait for you guys to show up while potentially letting some innocent kid bite it? I had to check it out!” 

“It was stupid!” he shouted back. “You wanna check it out solo, fine, but you still drop a dime! We had no idea where the hell you even were!” 

“Guys, c’mon,” Sam pleaded, desperately wanting to put an end to this. 

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean spat. “She needs to own up to her mistake.” 

“It wasn’t a mistake!” you yelled. “I’m not in this gig to play it safe, I’m in it to save lives.” 

“Yeah, and then I’m the one who ends up with your blood on my hands!” he cried out. 

“Oh, do you always have to be so goddamn dramatic?!” you asked. “Don’t act like getting hurt isn’t part of the job. You’ve got over a decade on me, Dean, you should know that better than I do!”

He laughed sardonically, shaking his head as he backed up to lean against the counter, hands rubbing at his face. “I just don’t understand how you can’t see how fucking stupid you were.” 

“Ah, yes,” you replied saccharinely. “Stupid little me. Just a naive girl who can’t do the job, huh?” 

“That’s not what I’m saying!” he barked, rubbing his face in exasperation. 

“No?” you asked incredulously. “Then tell me, Dean! What the hell are you saying, huh?” 

“God, just- you know what?” he asked, shoving himself off the counter. “Screw this. I’m done here. I’m getting my own fucking room for the night,” he muttered, storming away. 

Before you could even blink, he was slamming the door behind him. You must’ve made a move to follow him, because you suddenly felt a hand lightly grip your wrist as Sam kept you in place. 

“Just leave him to cool off for a bit,” Sam told you quietly. 

You wanted to argue, to rip yourself from Sam’s grasp and go find Dean, who was likely pacing around outside in an attempt to blow off some steam. Yet you knew it was best to do as Sam said; Dean didn’t want to listen right now, and following after him to try and talk would only make things worse. 

“Yeah,” you said belatedly, slipping from his hold. “Okay.” 

“Do you need any help?” Sam asked, watching as you gathered your things for bed. 

“I’ll be fine,” you told him, shaking your head. 

“Alright,” he sighed, not fully believing you but knowing better than to call you on it. “I’ll go next door and grab my stuff. I’ll stay with you tonight.” 

“Sounds great,” you said, despite not fully listening to him. You were too focused on trying to hold yourself together until you made it to the bathroom, letting the emotions run through you as soon as you were locked inside. 

Time seemed to slip away from you while you were in there, lost in thought while the water melded with your tears as you cleansed yourself both physically and emotionally. It was only when Sam knocked on the door with a call of your name that you finally came to your senses. Once you assured him you were fine, you quickly finished up. 

Doing your best to avoid eye contact with Sam, you made for your bed as quickly as you could move. Hiding yourself away in the safety of the blankets, you hoped to avoid any further discussions of this entire event. 

You should’ve known better. 

“You do know we need to talk about this, right?” Sam asked softly. 

“Do we?” you asked in return, staring up at the ceiling. 

He sighed, and soon after you felt the end of your bed dip under his weight. “I meant what I said. You scared the hell out of us.” 

“I didn’t mean to,” you said meekly, keeping your eyes trained on the stain above your head. 

“I know that,” he said calmly. “I’m sure Dean does, too, but-” 

“Does he?” you cut in incredulously. 

Sam sighed again, falling silent as he weighed his response in his head. “Yes. C’mon, you know Dean - hell, probably even better than I do. He was more scared than he was angry, and I think you know that.” 

“Well you were scared, too, weren’t you?” you asked, finally turning your gaze to his. “You didn’t try ripping my head off.” 

“That’s because my biggest fear didn’t almost become reality tonight,” he said simply, giving you a look as though you should understand; which, you didn’t. 

“What?” 

“Look,” Sam started, carding his fingers through his hair. “Death is part of the job, right? We all know it’s the risk we take with this life. But you… if I’m being honest, I don’t even know what the hell I’d do if I ever lost you; you’re my best friend, the annoying little sister I never had, and I love you. But Dean… him losing you… I don’t know if he could ever come back from that.”

You stared at him carefully, his words echoing in your head as you searched his face for any insincerity - you didn’t really know what to say once you found no trace. 

“I’d like to get some rest, if that’s okay,” you finally settled on. 

Sam smiled sadly, knowing you didn’t believe him. “Sure,” he agreed, squeezing your calf affectionately before standing up. “I’ll check on you in a few hours, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nodded, tucking the sheets up under your chin. “Night, Sammy.” 

“G’night,” he responded gently, quietly getting himself ready for bed as well.

It was torture. Pure, never ending torture. 

You had been laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, for hours, unable to sleep a wink. 

Not only was your mind still reeling from your fight with Dean, but you weren’t able to get comfortable; the stitches in your side pulled every time you shifted positions, sending a new wave of pain through you that even the painkillers you swallowed down earlier did little to conceal. 

Letting out an irritated huff, you tossed the covers off and slid from the bed to search the dark for your shoes, doing your best to not wake Sam - all you wanted was some fresh air, and you didn’t want to deal with his questions or insistence he go with you. 

After shrugging on a flannel that Dean had left in his haste to get away from you, you carefully slipped from the room and did your best to make sure the door shut silently in your wake. 

“Running away?” came a voice from behind you, making you jump out of your skin as you whirled around. 

You came face to face with Dean, who was leaning against the trunk of his beloved car, one hand shoved deep in his jacket pocket and the other holding a can of beer. The moonlight cut through the darkness, mingling with the fluorescent and neon lights to cast an otherworldly glow upon his face. 

“Why?” you asked tightly, folding your arms over yourself. “Hoping you won’t have to deal with my stupidity anymore?” 

You may as well have slapped him for the way your words made him flinch, and he fixed his gaze on the can in his hand. “You know that’s not how I meant any of it,” he muttered guiltily. 

All you could do was scoff, biting back your snippy response in the hopes of trying to avoid another blow out. 

“Why are you out here?” you asked after a few moments of silence. “Thought you got your own room.” 

Dean shrugged, chugging down some beer before jerking a thumb in the direction of the upper level. “I asked for one, but all they had was one up in the corner.” 

“What, too many stairs?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

He shook his head, falling silent as he stared at the puddle by his feet. “Just… too far away.” 

“From?” you asked, taking a few steps to lean against the closest pillar. 

By the sigh he let out, you could tell he didn’t want to answer, yet after a small stretch of silence he finally looked up to meet your gaze. “You.” 

“What, not mad at me anymore, then?” you questioned, hoping to mend this bridge. 

“Oh, no. I’m still fucking pissed,” he instantly admitted. 

“Right, well, spare the lecture this time,” you replied with a scoff. 

“You just don’t get it, do you?” he snapped, setting his can down on the trunk. 

“You wanna know what I don’t get, Dean?” you quipped, glaring at him. “Have you always thought I was such an incompetent hunter, or did your opinion of me just suddenly change?” 

“That is not-” he started to argue, before taking a calming breath. “That is not what I think,” he finished, more quiet this time. 

“Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered with a roll of your eyes. 

“Okay, you wanna know how I see it?” he asked, shifting his stance a little straighter. 

When all you did was meet his gaze with your own look of determination, he carried on. 

“You almost died!” he said adamantly. 

“No, I didn’t!” you denied, throwing up your hands in exasperation. 

“Well you may as well have!” he yelled, palm slamming down on Baby’s exterior in an outburst of rage. “You disappeared! You disappeared, and I couldn’t find you, and when I did-... I mean what else was I supposed to think, huh? I find you on your damn knees, covered in your own blood, and I can’t even see how bad it is because we’re literally out there in the fucking dark. So you know what? As far as I’m concerned, in that moment, you did almost die.” 

Stunned into silence by the intensity of his words, all you could do was watch the storm of fear and fury dance behind his eyes before he turned away. 

“I thought I was gonna have to watch you die,” he muttered, choking on his words as he braced his hands on the car to steady himself. 

“I-” you tried to speak, but all words failed you at that moment. 

“And I know, okay?” he carried on desperately. “I know that this job, this life… that’s the risk. And me? Hell, if I go, I go, I can make peace with that. But I’ll be damned if I get to keep on living and you don’t. I’ll be damned, if I have to sit there and watch you die.” 

“Dean-” you tried again, feeling like an idiot for not being able to form a proper response. 

“Look, I- I overreacted okay? It’s what I do, I know that, but-” Dean cut himself off with a sigh, quickly wiping at his eyes before the tears had a chance to appear. “I can’t- I can’t handle the idea of facing a world without you in it.” 

“You’ve… I mean, I don’t understand,” you admitted with a chuckle of disbelief. “I’ve been hurt before.” 

“Trust me, I know,” he sighed, finally returning to sit against the rear end as he fixated on the ground before him. 

“So… what made it so different this time?” you hesitantly asked. 

Dean’s gaze slowly lifted from his boots to your face, and the look he gave you was one you’ve never seen before. He held your gaze as he stood tall, easily closing the space between you two with just a few steps. He reached out to carefully brush your hair away from the gash on your head, tucking the strands behind your ear. Your breath hitched as his fingers gently traced your skin, his touch lingering as he examined your wound. 

“Guess I just reached my breaking point,” he whispered, letting his palm rest against your cheek. 

“What does that mean?” you found the courage to ask. 

“You know what it means,” he replied, reluctantly pulling his hand away. 

“Say it anyway,” you pleaded, heart hammering in your chest as you fought to steady your breathing. 

He shook his head, averting his gaze as he cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I don’t think I can.” 

“I know you can,” you encouraged, trying your best to catch his gaze. 

He closed his eyes as if to brace himself for what he was about to say, yet he only stayed silent. When the silence began to stretch on into minutes, you knew it was time to give up. 

“Okay,” you concluded, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in your chest from the jagged edges of your now broken heart. “Have a good night, De.” 

He let you turn away from him. He let you walk the few feet to your motel room door, but he couldn’t let you go back inside. Despite being an irreligious man, your name fell from his lips like a prayer, stopping you as you grasped the door handle

“I’ve been in love with you for longer than I even care to admit,” he confessed. “Yeah, maybe I went a little crazy earlier, but you know what? You make me crazy. The idea of losing you makes me crazy. The fact that you’re selfless enough to risk your life so easily makes me crazy. I can apologize for the way I handled it, for the things I said, but I will not apologize for being scared about losing you, okay? I just won’t.” 

“Dean,” you found yourself saying once more, feeling like you were moving in slow motion as you returned to stand before him. 

“Never thought I’d actually tell you that,” he announced, letting out a nervous chuckle as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I get it if you don’t-” 

“I love you, too,” you admitted quietly, cutting him off. 

“What?” he asked, blinking in shock. 

“You aren’t the only one who’s been harbouring that secret,” you told him, laughing softly. 

Dean opened his mouth to respond, but it was Sam’s voice that called out first. 

“Hey, I’m really happy for you guys and all… but could you just, like, shut up and kiss already or something? I’m actually trying to sleep in here.” 

It took you a few seconds to realize he was calling out from inside your room, and the realization that he likely heard the entire conversation caused laughter to bubble up from your chest and burst from your mouth. The sound was only short- lived as Dean captured your lips with his, rendering you quiet with a searing kiss that made you so weak in the knees you would’ve crumpled had he not been holding you.

You wanted to kiss him forever. You wanted to stay here with his lips on yours, his large hands framing your face as your small ones rested on his chest, for the rest of your life; and you would have, had the burning in your lungs not forced you to pull away for a proper breath.

He refused to let you go, pulling you in close as he rested his forehead against yours. You wished time and space would cease to exist as you stood in his embrace, slowly catching your breath; though as far as you were concerned, the two of you were the only ones to exist in this moment.

“Wait, hold on,” he said, pulling back to look at you, dancing his gaze between you and the door to your room. “Has he been in there this entire time?”

“Ever since you left, yeah,” you told him, a little confused by his sudden question.

“So his room’s been empty?” he asked, a little annoyed.

“Uh- yes?”

“So you’re telling me I’ve been standing out for hours, looking like a creep and getting drizzled on, when I could’ve been using his room?” he questioned.

A laugh escaped your lips without you meaning it to, but the longer you took in his annoyed expression the more giggles you let out.

“Well, it’s your own fault for storming out,” you told him with a laugh.

He rolled his eyes as you carried on laughing, shaking his head as he let you go. “The things I do for you,” he muttered under his breath as he checked the door next to yours.

“Aw c’mon, you’ve had to do worse while on stakeouts,” you pointed out, watching as he swung the door open to Sam’s former room. “Although, I’m not usually the one you’re watching - wait, or am I?” you added playfully, grinning mischievously.

“Just shut up and get in here,” he sighed, holding his hand out to you as he fought off a smile; though the twitch in the corners of his mouth gave him away.

You made your way over to him, ready to take his hand in yours as you continued to tease him. “Can’t help but notice you didn’t say no.”

He rolled his eyes once more, clasping your hand and pulling you into the room so swiftly you let out a squeak of surprise. “You,” he said, kicking the door shut as he took your face between his palms. “Are a pain in my ass.”

You grinned, placing your hands on his wrists. “Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

“Yeah,” he said softly, running his thumbs across your cheeks. “I really do.”

taglist: @roseblue373, @snowayumi, @iluvdeanwinchester, @winharry, @star-yawnznn, @jc-winchester, @chevroletdean, @angelblqde

if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist, please let me know!

[fushiguruuzzzz]

xii ⊹ ࣪ ˖  Let It Happen 

Series mlist 

Tags — I yapped this chap ngl, man hate 🗣️, mentions of marijuana/smoking, cursing, kys jokes, fat jokes 

Words — 2.4k (ZOO WEE MAMA) 

The drive to Toge, Yuta, and Panda’s place was blissful. The sun was just beginning to lower in the sky, moving further west with every passing moment, every screamed lyric of the Tame Impala songs you’d put on shuffle. Even Maki, who had responded to your initial enthusiasm with an eye roll and a shake of the head, had mouthed along with what you swore was a smile. She wasn’t so dry when you were free of the boys, you’d noticed. The constant talk of either food or obscure indie games could get old, especially for someone like her. 

Nobara leaned forward from the back seat, swaying both you and Maki to the rhythm of the song. She almost made you swerve the car into incoming traffic, but it didn’t seem to bother her. It did bother Maki, though, who sat up straight and whipped around to look at her. “What the fuck? You just almost killed us!”

“I was doing fine without you, ‘til I saw your face, now I can’t erase!” Nobara sang, completely ignoring the half panicked shouts of the girl in the passenger seat. Her orange hair shifted with every bob of her head, brushing over her shoulder. The grin on her face spoke of girlhood so strongly that you couldn’t help but mirror it, a sort of euphoria radiating from the vehicle as the wind blew through your hair, the vibrations of the radio shaking against your hands as they gripped the steering wheel. 

You rounded a corner, the two story building that was just a tone off of white coming into view. It was decently nice, they were able to afford it thanks to Panda’s lucky position as the dean’s son and the wealth of the Inumaki family. Of course Yuta paid his fair share–he had a job at the bookstore down the street– but it was likely they’d have gone for a more affordable option had it not been for the other boys riches. If you’d been going there directly from campus, the three of you probably would have walked, but thanks to your little shopping trip you had triple the distance, half the gas, and moths flying out of your wallet every time you opened it. 

“Do you think if we tried to invade their apartment and kick them out they’d leave?” Nobara asked, sighing dramatically as she realized how near the end of girl time actually was. “We are not seizing their place, Nobara,” Maki rolled her eyes, glancing to the back seat. You had to resist a laugh. Maki was rather blunt, you’d like to say at times, but that was just her constant. 

“Why not? I love seeing women in male dominated fields.” 

You giggled, pulling into the parking lot. The car came to a stop, the brick structure standing tall above you as you reached for your shopping bags, grinning at the two women who were also preparing to get out. “I think Maki is just itching to be around Yuta,” you grinned, only to be swiftly struck in the side of the head. You yelped, pressing a hand to your temple and wincing. “Yep. Sorry,” you said, teeth gritted as you stepped onto the grey asphalt of the ground and standing to your full height. The three of you made your way towards the door, bags noisily brushing against eachother with every step you took. 

It was only a few short minutes before you were pushing past the door of their apartment, slipping off your shoes and making your way towards the living room. You were met with the sight of the three boys living in the unit, as well as Yuji sprawled out over the expanse of the couch, and a bored looking Megumi standing on the sidelines. You retrieved two heaps of pink fabric from a paper bag hanging from your elbow, promptly tossing them at the faces of Toge and Yuji, both getting their attention and delivering the clothing articles they’d been so desperate to receive. Yuta, on the other hand, was gifted his own by an oddly gentle Maki. It took Toge no time to recognize the fabric, a grin spreading across his face. 

“Aw, [name], you really do love me!” he exclaimed, placing a hand over his heart. 

“Don’t push it,” you huffed, rolling your eyes. The shopping bags dropped at your feet, following the other girls actions. 

“A win is a win,” Yuji said. Inumaki pumped his hand over his head, laughing. “Huzzah!” 

Soon enough the eight of you were scattered around the living room, matching pyjama pants adorning your legs (save for Megumi and Panda) as you played a game of Uno. You were lying on your side, propped up on your elbow and holding your own hand of cards. Deeming your friends behaviour more entertaining than the game itself, you’d made some mental notes. 

Nobara had leapt across the room to tackle someone twice, and by the looks of it, the next person who placed a +4 card was next. Speaking of which, Toge seemed determined to induce this, somehow blessed with every card in the deck that would inconvenience her in the slightest. 

“[name]! Hello?” Panda waved a hand (paw?) rapidly in front of your face, followed by a gentle nudge from Megumi beside you, and a nod toward the stack of cards in the middle of the little circle you’d formed. You blinked, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you nodded. 

“Sorry, zoned out,” you said, laughing breathily as you glanced down at the collection of cards in your grasp. 

Yuta glanced down at you, then at Maki and Nobara. “Were you guys smoking again?” 

The three of you whipped your heads around to look at him. The crease between Nobara’s brows was deep, and Maki was clearly refraining from smacking a hand over his mouth, silencing him herself. It was hard not to laugh, but the blunt statement made by your raven haired friend left you more surprised than anything. 

“Again?! What do you mean again?!” 

“[name], I never thought you’d be such a bad influence,” came a gruff voice from beside you, a hint of playful tease lying beneath his tone. You grinned in return, your free hand coming up to weakly shove him. For a split second, the solid structure of his shoulder was beneath your palm, unmoving and strong. It was but a fleeting moment, though, the feeling soon gone as well as the sight of the smirk pulling at his lips. Though, as you looked away, two things lingered. The first was that dopey grin lying on your lips, the second was his eyes over the expanse of your face, trained on you for just a moment too long. And in that beat, that one split second, everybody in the room seemed to come to a realization. Everybody except you, that is. 

“You guys all suck. I zone out once and you assume we’re all zooted? How terrible do you think we are?” you asked, voice just a hint softer than it usually was. 

“Well…” 

“Toge, shut up.” 

Two wrestling matches and an undetermined amount of lingering gazes later, Nobara had a revelation. 

“Oh! Oh! I almost forgot!” she said, shooting up. The game of Uno was long forgotten, one can only handle so much insignificant rage before they give up. A devious smile crossed her face as she met your eye, and it was as if she was preparing to take candy from a baby. “Makeup,” she said, one simple word, but it was enough. Enough to send an image of shared messages appear in your mind. Enough to make you match her demeanour, much to the confusion of everyone else. 

Little by little, they remembered. Toge and Yuji practically shook and jittered with anticipation, Yuta sat quietly with a gentle blush on his face, just observing, and then there was Megumi. He looked as if he was overwhelmed with a sense of impending doom. He glanced at you, then Panda, then you, and back to Panda once again. He shook his head. “No.”

Panda took a tentative step towards him, only making the poor spiky haired boy appear all the more avoidant. “Get away from me,” he grumbled, though no actual heat lied beneath his words. In the weeks you’d grown closer, you’d been able to see the layers of Megumi Fushiguro, see what lied beneath. 

He was polite, but had a reflective sort of aura about him that made him seem as if he was in his own world. He was stoic, somewhat a grump, even, but every once in a while that concealed softness would flicker in his eyes and reveal that maybe he wasn’t so cold. Reserved was a better word for him, because Megumi wasn’t mean. He was annoyed, sure, but he was never mean. Well… at least never to you. Your Megumi gave you jackets when you were cold and grabbed you books from the top shelf, he walked you to class and talked to you about his favourite novels. Your Megumi sat with you at your favourite coffee shop and looked at you when you talked, shared soft, cozy moments with you that had a sort of intimacy in them that no physical connection could challenge. Your Megumi’s face pinkened slightly every time you said something nice about him, though he always blamed it on the cold. Your Megumi was kind and warm and familiar. That’s what made it all the more amusing, seeing him scramble away from Panda like he was infected with rabies or something. 

A series of begs and whines echoed throughout the room, all met with cold glares or annoyed groans. “Absolutely not. Back off,” he said, crossing his arms as he inched away from Panda. 

“Please, Megumi,” you asked, voice pleading in an ironic sort of way. Something in his eyes flickered, shifted, his body stilling as he made eye contact with you. A moment of silence passed, and with an annoyed sigh, his arms fell to his sides. 

“Fine.” 

“Yes!” you celebrated, already grabbing your supplies. Pairs were made. Nobara would go with Yuji, You with Megumi, Yuta with Maki, and… Inumaki with Panda…? 

You chose to ignore the odd imbalance in gender, happily prancing over to Megumi and settling beside him. The plastic and glass of your products clanged gently against eachother as you set them down, smiling in anticipation as you turned to the boy next to you. He looked somewhat defeated, shoulder slumping as he avoided your eyes. 

You moved closer to clip his hair up, and his breath hitched. You could’ve sworn that the skin of his cheeks, currently resting beneath your fingertips, had heated up. Was he always that warm? 

No, he wasn’t. But Megumi was desperate to conceal that, to conceal that he didn’t actually hate this. He didn’t hate the idea of being “pretty,” as you’d say, no, he didn’t actually mind that at all. What he did mind was the odd fluttering in his chest as you shifted closer, as you cradled his face and narrowed your eyes in concentration as the brush swept across his cheekbone. He had grown used to that feeling in recent weeks, he had to adapt to live with it, or it would plague him. You would plague him. That didn’t mean that it had become a welcome feeling, though. He tried to keep it settled, keep it at a low simmer in the cavities of his heart, but that was proving to be difficult as your breaths mingled and he can’t tell if he’s hallucinating, or if you just looked at his lips. No, he was being silly. Letting his thoughts run wild. That was ridiculous, right? You wouldn’t see him that way, let alone allow it to show in a moment like this. You wouldn’t- 

“Done!” you said, abruptly pulling away from him to get a full view of your masterpiece. You smiled proudly, and he was sure his heart stopped. He could feel the light weight of the makeup against his skin, and he suddenly felt undeniably silly. What was he doing, allowing you to doll him up like this? If it had been anyone else, he’d have told them to fuck off and went back to his own activities, but it was you. So he sat still like an obedient dog and waited for you to be done with him, barely able to look at your face out of fear he’d lunge forwards and do something he’d regret. 

“Mm. Let me see,” he said, looking at you for what felt like the first time in the past twenty minutes. “Or do I even want to?” 

“Of course you do. You look pretty,” you laughed, pulling out your phone, presumably to use the camera as a makeshift mirror. Suddenly he was grateful for the pink powder you’d dusted on his skin earlier, or else you’d have caught the way the skin beneath began to match the rosey pigment.  

You turned it towards him, allowing him to see himself. He looked mildly shocked for a moment before letting out a low hum, whether it was one of dismissal or contentment, you were unsure. You snuck a second hand to the screen, and a click met your ears as you snapped a picture. 

You giggled wildly as you snatched the phone back before he could get his hands on it, and he nearly lunged for you. Nearly. 

He was going to, he truly was! But when you pulled up the picture and admired your sneakiness, your eyes twinkled. They shined with a content joy that he wanted to bring from you again and again. He figured that if he could make you shine like that, maybe one little picture wasn’t so bad. It was just one photo, one that you’d likely forget about and let sit in the depths of your phone until you inevitable got a new one. So he let you have your picture and your laugh and didn’t protest as the other boys pranced around in their full faces, because it was just one thing. Just one thing, and it was making you and the others happy. He could deal with that. 

Little did he know, this was merely the start. 

Taglist !¡ —

@1l-ynn @meowymeowbreow @missunrise @kiss-my-asscheeks @starrysho @good-mourning0 @gumims @beaniesayshi @mrowwww @luvvmae @megumislovedoll @azharyy @starsryi @tibibibi123 @rreveurdoll @idkidk32 @dazaisfavgf @tlissablr @vi0let-writes @walllflowerrrsss @sh0ot1ngst4r @blubearxy @tvnamayo

ouh we’ve officially reached the down bad stage. I’ve been updated so often recently (TWO IN A ROW ‼️) do yall fw that be honest proud of myself lwk. Next step is proofreading (im never gonna do ts) im half asleep writing this. Again. So thankful for autocorrect rn yall don’t know how many words I’ve misspelt in this authors note I want him I fear. Also lwk guys Toge… I need to stfu sorry

Expect updates every 2 days (give or take) at 8am or 4pm EST

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 1.

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content and sex toys, soft!dom Dean. It's a kinky writing challenge, so expect anything at this point, (nothing freaky, don't worry) but it's a surprise calendar so I won't spoil it! Also, English is not my native language

Advent calendar includes: headcanons, snippets, one shots, imagines, blurbs etc.

Words: 2,380

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

A/N: If you want to be tagged for the next parts, just let me know. And feedback is welcome!! Enjoy! 🦊

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

1st Dec. - Sunshine

“Sunshine?” You repeat the unexpected nickname with a little grin while you sit down on the edge of the motels bed. You were used to sweetheart, darling, love or even baby, but sunshine? “That’s a new one…” you remark with a teasing lift of your eyebrow, your eyes darting from his, back down to the gift on your lap.

“I thought it suited you.” He explains with an expression which was almost too innocent for him. Clearly he is trying his best to hide his knowing smile, but his excited voice betrays him. “Now open it, sunshine.”

“Uh-huh”, Your finger tugs at the unconventional gift paper, which consisted of nothing but a roll of toilet paper that hung loosely around the small package. “Interesting wrapping paper you picked there…” You comment with a wry smile. This was so typical Dean.

He chuckles at your remark, “What can I say? I’m a fan of practical gift wrapping,” he says with a cocky smirk, taking a seat next to you, “It’s eco-friendly.” The mattress dipped down from his weight and your shoulders bumped against each other. He makes a great effort to play it cool, but the slight friction was enough for you to notice the excitement and arousal which was radiating off of him. This just made you wonder even more; What the hell is that sly bastard up to this time?

Dean watches as you carefully unwrap the package, clearly intrigued by what he had given you. “But I promise, the content’s worth the toilet paper sacrifice,” he adds with a playful smirk. There it was again, that all too familiar glint in his green eyes. That flash of ‘oh baby if only you knew’.

At last, you rip the box open, your eyes peering down to be met with… Oh dear lord. Your eyes widen and Dean could see a million thoughts flicker across your face at the moment of realization. This is exactly the reaction he had hoped for. He has to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep a straight face – but fails miserably.

“You stick it where the sun don’t shine… sunshi-”

“I know where it goes.” you cut him short in a sputter, your mind still trying to catch up with this... this gift, “I just- I’ve never-…”

“- done it before. I know,” he finishes for you, his voice a mixture of teasing and reassuring, “Remember that talk we had? About tryin’ new things.” He leans over, his shoulders brushing against your chest as he reaches into the box. “You like it?”, he asks, feigning innocence. He takes the toy out of the box to trace a finger lightly over the small, jewel-adorned plug.

“I-...I- uh-,” You start, but your eyes keep drifting down to the toy in his hand, your mind racing – damnit, you were usually confident and experienced when it came down to these things… but, to be honest, kinky stuff really hasn’t made it into your bedroom so far. But trying these things with Dean for the first time? You’d be damned for missing out on that. And hey, don't knock it till you try it, right?

“Yeh, I like it,” you finally say, trying to muster some of your usual confidence, “I mean… I did say I wanna spice it up...”

That answer hit jackpot in Dean’s expression. He bites his bottom lip, trying to contain his eagerness, yet again, failing miserably. “Well, don’t keep me waitin’,” he teases, his voice just a tad bit lower than usual. You glance down at the toy and back up at him, unsure how to approach this exactly.

Noticing your lost expression, Dean gently takes your hand and leads you to stand up in front of him, him still seated on the edge of the bed. “Strip.” His tone has an authoritative edge to it now, though his eyes remain soft, almost tender as he tries to guide you.

You feel a little shiver run down your spine; that damn voice could have made your knees buckle any time. Nodding slightly, you slowly begin to undress, stripping off layer after layer of clothing until you stand completely naked before him. Dean takes a moment to admire your body, his eyes roaming over every part of you. As his gaze lands on your hips, he speaks again, his voice a low growl. “Now turn around, sweetheart.” He places his hands on your hips, his fingers trailing over your skin, sending a row of shivers through your body. Once you face away from him, you involuntarily bite your lower lip in anticipation. With the toy in his grasp, he speaks again, his voice barely above a whisper. “Get on your hands and knees, sunshine.” You swallow thickly. But again, you obey his command without question and you drop down onto your hands and knees on the floor in front of the bed. By now you can feel the excitement and lust raise more with each of your quickened breaths. And Dean can almost smell your arousal as he has to bite back a groan from it, his bulge growing bigger. He pushes off the bed and places a hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you slightly forward, forcing you to arch your back slightly. He runs his fingertips down your spine, eliciting another small shiver from you. Out of your sight, but still not going unnoticed by your ears, you hear him lick the bottom of his lips at the sight while he could feel all of his blood go south. He leans in close to you, his lips just barely brushing against your ear. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

A small whimper leaves your lips at the praise and the feeling of his firm hands on your bare skin are already enough to make you dripping wet. You hear Dean move behind you, reaching for the lube on the bedside table and what you assume, coating the toy with it. He then gently leans against your back, the cold buckle of his belt and the evidence of his arousal pressing against your bare skin. You bite back a groan from it, silently wishing nothing more but for him to unbuckle those damn pants already. But you know, you’d have to be patient for now, so you keep your needy sounds back as well as you can. At least until you gasp loudly when you suddenly feel the cool, metallic surface make contact with the warm skin of your buttocks. “Relax, baby,” he murmurs, his free hand soothingly massaging the small of your back. “I’ll be gentle.” His voice is even deeper now, filled with lust. You feel his hands continue their exploration, running over your curves and every dip, his calloused fingers caressing you like you are a work of art he wants to savour. His hands send sparks up your spine and you find yourself shudder and your breath hitch whenever his fingers brush across your most sensitive spots. “Now, this might feel a lil’ odd at first,” you hear him whisper, his lips hovering over the back of your neck as you feel his warm breath tingle your skin and the fabric of his flannel rest against your back. “Lemme know if it’s too much, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, I will,” you reassure him in a low mumble, not managing to hide the slight trepidation from your voice while your fingers idly searched the rug for something to dig your fingers into.

Dean feels you tense under his touch and he makes sure to keep his hands firm yet tender, his fingers tracing reassuringly over your skin. “Remember, just relax,” he repeats, his lips grazing your ear as he speaks. A shaky breath escapes your lips and you do your best to loosen up your muscles and melt into his strong hands which always give you a feeling of safety, no matter what you two did. And you two had done a lot of adventurous things so far.

“I’ve got you,” you hear him whisper against your ear again. And this time you could swear you even heard some vulnerability in his voice. You trust him, always, no doubt about that. But it’s moments like these, rare little moments of him giving you a glimpse of how damn much he really cares about you feeling safe and protected in his presence, that makes you eager to reassure him. Maybe even please him a little. You hum a soft “Mhm”, silently giving him the final go.

Then, he begins to slowly press the plug forward, his hand still resting on your back, steadying you. You feel the cool and wet tip sliding further inside, spreading you surprisingly well – but then a little sting makes you gasp from the unexpected feeling, which let your muscles tense up momentarily, before you feel his soothing hands again, and you relax under his touch.

“Shhh, ‘tis alright,” he coos softly, the plug inching inside you at the same time, “Good girl. You deserve a big treat.” Your legs tremble from the sensation and a low whimper leaves your lips – it’s not bad, but still very new and you were constantly fighting the urge to clench your buttocks around the unfamiliar object. When Dean finally stilled in his movement and the toy reached its end, you couldn’t hold back the shaky exhale which was close to a soft moan. Now that your body has adjusted to it, it feels… surprisingly exciting and pleasurable. And damnit, you want more now. You need more.

A sudden pleading whine hits Dean’s ears and his smirk widens into a cocky grin at the needy noise coming from your trembling form. “You want more, sunshine?”

“Yes...please,” you whimper instantly, your hands and knees shifting along the rug, in a desperate attempt to get some friction between your thighs. He groans – this time failing to hold it back in. The sight of you, all needy and exposed and you wearing that pretty jewel adorned-plug that’s twinkling in the low light of the motel room and fuck- he just noticed how wet you are. He briefly grazes his bottom lip with his teeth before he clenches his jaw to force down a swallow, his voice a low rumble under his breath, “Goddamn honey…”. Meanwhile his fingers run along the inside of your wet thighs, scooping up some of your juice like he wanted to make sure that none of it went to waste. He brings his fingertips up to his lips where he then licks them off with a deep groan.

And that just does it to make Dean give in.

Without giving you the chance to prepare, he goes back to your pussy and effortlessly pushes two fingers past your slick lips, drawing a deep moan from you as you feel a shudder go through your body. He keeps one hand on the small of your back, while his fingers pump inside you, relentless and eager to give you the release you deserve. “You were such a good girl,” he praises you, his fingers curling inside you to hit that sweet spot which makes you almost buckle. “Oh God-” you moan shakily, the sensation of his thick fingers filling you up on one side while the butt plug is spreading your other side, was almost too much.

“You can take it, come on,” he challenges you with a gravelly voice, his teeth grazing your neck as if to dare you to talk back. “‘M gonna make sure you get what you deserve and then some,” he whispers against your ear, the sound of it a threat as much as a promise. And then he starts scissoring his fingers while holding you in place with his other hand. You groan loudly, your fingers clutching the next thing they can reach - the damn toilet paper wrapping, which rip and crumple from your nails in an instant. Your hip‘s bucking involuntarily at the increased pressure and a row of guttural moans leave your throat. “F-fuck” you whine breathlessly, the feeling of being spread and stretched becoming almost bordering painful and yet oh so pleasurable as you feel the knot inside you tighten up more and more. The working of his fingers and the pressure in your butt get you close to the edge in record time as you just give in and let him do his magic. Your legs start to shake and if it wasn’t for his fingers dug into the flesh at your hip, you’d have keeled over by now for sure. Dean increases the speed, now his thumb flicking over your swollen bundle of nerves every time he pumps his fingers inside of you again.

“F-fuck, Dean, I- I’m- I’m comin’-” your voice breaks off when his fingers hit your g-spot again and you find yourself whimper into the rug, your nails clawing at the floor.

“That’s it-” he praises you again, now slowing down his pace but thrusting them as deep as he can while his arm slams against the plug, pressing it further in - and that‘s the last push it takes to tip you over the edge. You feel your legs give in as the knot finally bursts and the wave of ecstasy hits you, your walls clenching around his fingers and your body tensing up. Dean keeps you from falling forward, his fingers still going and his grip on your hip tightening while he’s murmuring words that go past your clouded mind. He lets you ride out your hight while your juice is soaking his entire arm. You moan out his name with a final shudder before he lets you collapse to the floor.

Dean looks down at your trembling form, all spent and limp. A satisfied grin spreads across his face while his tongue swipes over his glistening arm, savouring your sweetness and cleaning some of the mess. After a moment, he kneels down behind you, his hands caressing your butt where he pulls the plug gently out, putting it aside before his hands go back to soothingly stroke your arms and legs. He places a row of tender kisses on the back of your neck, his voice a low rumble, filled with affection and pride as he whispers against the nape of your neck. “Happy first advent, sunshine.”

EDIT: I revised some of it. My sleep-deprived brain had left out some parts which I just had to add / adjust.

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Tags: (thank you lovely sweeties, I hope you enjoyed it!)

@deaniemyboo @deansjacket @literallylexa

[ultravi0lence14]

White Winter Hymnal

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.

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.”