#dean winchester x castiel fic

[sweetcocopowder]

Day Thirteen: Stress Relief

Synopsis: Three and a half months of non-stop jobs back to back and Dean can feel the tension residing in his muscles. In every fiber of his being. Spa days don't work. A casual beer doesn't help to rid of this feeling. He needs someone to fuck the tension away. And he has his angel to do so.

Word Count: 3.3K

Pairing: Castiel / Dean Winchester

Warnings: Multiple orgasms. Oversensitive. Massages. Cum as lube. But also lube is used as well. Handcuffed. Anal sex. Masturbation. Hand job.

Note: Jesus christ we're already this far into october. where did the first two weeks go?

The angel blinks, brows furrowed and mouth slightly agape. He stares at Dean for a tad too long that the man groans with a hand swiping down his face. Embarrassment sinks heavily into his gut, causing Dean to advert his gaze down to the floor.

“Dean,” Castiel speaks firmly, “I’m not protesting,” he admits.

The hunter sits on the edge of the bed, fiddling with the blanket. He’s asked for similar stuff in the past, but this. This concerns Castiel more than it does anything else.

“I just wished you had told me before how stressed you were,” the angel admits. “Have you tried a spa day?”

“You know those don’t work!” Dean snaps. “They work for a day, but I wake up still feeling tense as ever!”

Cas just wishes he had noticed sooner. Or that Dean had spoken out sooner. Him and his brother have had job after job after job for the past three month and a half with little to no breaks in between. Yes, Dean has been doing this his entire life, but he’s admitted to Cas that he doesn’t go out to bars at all these days. No time to or he just doesn’t see the need to.

Dean’s a complicated man hence why the angel doesn’t care when the hunter goes out late at night. Or hooks up with someone on the side. He would hate to put a claim on a human soul. He’s been owned in the past himself and it sends a shiver down his spine. Uriel’s touch still lingers in some spots if he thinks about it too much.

But with moments like these that Dean does come to him, allows himself to move past his father’s words that spin around his mind that linger like an early morning fogs, Cas takes what he’s given. And he’ll gladly, in Dean’s words, fuck all the tension from him.

A firm hand pushes Dean back onto the bed with a thump. The tension in Dean’s room quickly melts away as fast as it came. The angel looks down to Dean through hooded lids, his blue gaze like steel. The usual colour is so much darker in the shadows of the room that it sends a chill down the hunter’s spine. He doesn’t move from the bed, staring up at the angel as he breathes evenly.

“Take your clothes off.”

The angel’s gruff spoken words cause a physical reaction from Dean. A shiver and a slight flinch of his hands, as if he was anticipating the order. He eagerly takes his flannel and shirt off, all without sitting back up off the bed. While Dean shuffles his pants off, Cas wonders over to his bedside table where he knows lube is stashed.

When Cas turns, Dean is stark naked on the bed. The fresh and yellowing bruises across his torso are hard to miss. There’s a dark purple circle on his ribcage that looks painful. Cas will have to heal that later.

Dean lazily strokes at himself, his head lolled to the side so that he can watch the angel. Cas smiles softly before it disappears. It truly hurts him to see Dean so battered up and bruised.  

Cas asks a question as he comes back over to the bed. “How long as it been since someone else has touched you?”

Dean swallows thickly as his green eyes don’t dare drag away from the angel before him. He doesn’t answer, instead watching as Cas shuffles off his trench coat and taking off his tie. He doesn’t stop stroking himself and doesn’t quicken the pace. And the angel doesn’t seem phased at all. He even sits next to Dean on the edge of the bed, his clothes brushing up against his bare thigh.

“Hmm?” Cas hums.

“Around three months,” Dean finally answers.

A single dark brown is raised in Dean’s direction. “So, before you went on the first job?”

“Ye- nah!”

Dean pants out unexpectedly as a small dollop of lube is squeezed out onto the head of his dick. The cold contrast has him hissing but it’s quick to warm up on his hand.

“Don’t stop,” Cas says firmly, his voice blunt. “Keep going for me.”

In the past, Dean was a little taken a back by how pretty much the same the angel was in bed to his usual demeanour. Blunt, to the point and sort of a control freak. He doesn’t know what he expected despite his whole outlook on military men, big softies behind closed doors. Big on control outside of the bedroom but once with someone else, they just melt. They become as docile as a dog. Taking orders and obeying them without question. It’s just taken Dean a little too long to realize that that trope is best fit for him.

Not the angel that watches him idly with those blue eyes that are always so striking. Giving him a simple task so that he doesn’t think of the past couple of months.

“You should have let me come with you on your last job,” Cas admits.

“Too dangerous.”

Even hearing those words come form his own mouth, Dean knows they’re a lie. And by the furrowed brows that quickly turn his way tell him the angel didn’t buy it either. Not with his dick in hand.

“Too dangerous? Or didn’t want me in the way?”

Dean swallows thickly. This isn’t what he asked for. He didn’t want to think of the constant shit that he’s been through. He doesn’t realize he’s stopped stroking himself until Cas’s eyes venture down that way.

“Did I tell you to stop?” He asks.

“Look,” Dean starts. “I didn’t want you with bec- ah- AH!”

For the second time tonight, Dean is cut off by Cas. The angel wraps a firm hand around his dick and begins a quick pace. He smears his lube covered palm on the head of Dean’s cock before sliding it down the underside, to grip it firmly as he jerks back up and he repeats the notion multiple times.

Both of Dean’s hands fist into the blankets as he slams his head into the bed. His hips jerk upwards and it’s very hard to contain himself when Cas knows how to work him. He squeezes his eyes shut as his soft pants become erratic. There’s so much tension in his body that it doesn’t take long at all for him to tip over the edge.

He comes unexpectedly and he shakes violently as Cas continues to stroke his cock, pumping everything out of him. He smears Dean’s cum onto his dick, making a mess out of the hunter. Dean looks through bleary eyes, swallowing thickly as he tries to collect some air in his lungs again.

“Cas I-“ He swallows again, trying to find his words, “I need more. Don’t stop.”

At that, a small smile creeps upon the angel’s face. As if ecstatic to keep going. That Dean is asking him.  

Cas’s filthy hand venture down past Dean’s balls to his ass. The hunter’s breath hitches as a single finger slides in with a little friction. It has been a while since he’s done this with anyone that each by pass of the angel’s touch is like electricity. He’s still coming down from his orgasm, but he shuffles his legs further apart as Cas strokes slowly, thrusting in and out and making sure that the pad of his finger curls into that delicate spot every time. The hunter shivers, his breath hitching at every prod at his prostate. He knows Dean. Inside and out.

After a while of teasing, a second is added and a third not too long after that. Dean digs his palms into his face as he arches his back off the bed. He tries to control the noises that unwantingly come from his throat, but he can’t stop himself. But it isn’t enough. It isn’t scratching that itch for him and it’s going to drive him nuts if Cas doesn’t fuck him right this instant.

“Come on, Cas,” Dean groans into his hands.

At that, a deep chuckle comes from the angel that had Dean’s heart beating all the faster. The fingers leave him but they venture up and give his balls a gentle squeeze. Dean grinds his teeth as he groans, exhaling shakily. The bed moves as Cas stands, his warm touch leaving the hunter. Bringing his hands away from his face, he gets a full view of the angel’s naked back.

His face heats up quickly. He feels like some school girl that hasn’t ever seen a boy naked before. But wouldn’t that be true? Dean ever rarely gets to see the tanned skin hiding under all those fancy layers the angel wears. He feels his mouth go dry as the belt and the pants are the next to be removed. Dean lets his eyes roam to every toned muscle the angel is letting him look upon. The almost, angelic moment doesn’t last long as Cas loops his belt once on itself and Dean is quick to realize what’s going to happen next.

“Hold out your hands.”

Dean complies silently to Cas’s gruff words. He holds his hands out together so that the angel can easily loop his belt around his wrists. He tightens it as tight as it can go, knowing damn well that Dean will twist out of them if he wants to. Once done, he pushes his wrists above his head so that Dean’s body lay outstretched before him. A beautiful sight.

Cas can’t resist to let his hands roam down Dean’s scarred chest. His thumbs dig into his pecs, feeling just how tense they are. He kneads and earns himself painful hisses from the hunter below him as he runs his knuckles into the muscle. But Dean doesn’t stop him. He becomes breathless as Cas moves down to his torso, doing the same that he did to his pecs. Massaging and driving his knuckles and fingers into tense muscle, easing out the knots that are bundled up. He avoids the dark bruise on his ribs, not wanting to harm Dean any more than he’s been put through. Cas would hate to feel his back.

The angel is well aware that he could heal Dean’s muscles. Heal everything so that the hunter feels brand new. Refreshed. But it’s the process that Dean needs. The hours out of his day to let someone touch him. Feel the warmth of someone else’s tender touch caressing away the tension that resides in his fibre. That seeps into his bones. He needs someone to grind it away until he’s nothing but dust.

The angel moves down to his thighs and does the same. Dean shakes and groans, throwing his head back into the bed. He clenches and unclenches his fists where they sit as Cas’s knuckles run down his inner thigh. He tries to shake the angel off by just how unbearable it is to dig a knot out, but Cas holds him with an iron grip. He trembles, but doesn’t dare kick the angel away. It hurts, it hurts so bad when Cas drags his thumb over a certain spot but it feels so good.

“I really should have come with you,” Cas comments.

“It’s fine.”

Only by sheer force is Dean able to grit words out through grinded teeth. He knows damn well he should’ve brought Cas along for the ride on the most recent one. It would have made things go a lot smoother and a damn lot less stressful when his little brother is being hanged upside down by his foot with five witches poking at him with sticks. It was a mess. The entire job was a mess, and it had left Dean drained. He just really hopes that Sam doesn’t come looking for him because he really needs this. By God, does he need this.

After Cas deems the second leg done, it’s only then that he touches Dean’s soft cock. The hunter hisses, jerking away at how sensitive he is but all in the same thought, he wants Cas to touch him harder, firmer. And the angel does just that. He jerks Dean’s messy cock to full attention again before he touches his own. He wipes Dean’s cum and the lube over his cock and by God, the hunter can’t look away. He’s never been one to let things get messy but right now it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

Cas drizzles a little more lube on Dean’s puckered hole before resting the head of his cock against it. He isn’t gentle when he pushes in, not like he was with all that massaging crap before. He pushes almost half of his cock in before pulling out slowly to only sink further in the second time round. Dean shakes and whines as Cas is quick to bottom out inside of him. Balls flush to his ass and all six inches inside, Dean feels every bit.

He pants in time to Cas’s thrusts, quickly finding pleasure in the abuse that the angel is giving him. But it’s what he wanted. What he asked of the angel beforehand. It’s what caused the five-hundred-mile stare from said angel and nearly caused him to fall into cardiac arrest.

He pants loudly, keeping his hands above his head as Cas had silently requested. He really hopes that Sam isn’t on this side of the bunker because the noises that are coming from him are borderline whore-ish. Trembling with each thrust, Cas brings Dean’s hips back to his with a firm grip on his waist. The wet clap is overpowered by Dean’s breathless moans that have a shiver running down the angel’s back.

Deam brings his cuffed hands in front of him suddenly, to try and curl in on himself as he nears another orgasm. But a hand is quick to grab at the belt to pull Dean’s arms up over his head, startling him a bit. Cas doesn’t stop his brutal pace, pulling and pushing a thigh so that Dean’s knee is nearly touching his chest. The new angle has the hunter grunting and panting with each thrust, his eyes squeezed shut as he teeters at the edge of his second orgasm. He can already tell that this one is going to be painful.  

It’s Cas leaning down and engulfing his lips in a wet kiss that has him coming for the second time that night. He gasps into the kiss and the angel delves in deeper, his tongue venturing into Dean’s mouth. He shakes and trembles in Cas’s touch, every nerve feeling like it’s on fire. He wraps his legs around the angel’s waist to hold him closer to him. He continues to keep a slowly, shallow pace that drives Dean insane. His brain feels like mush but… it’s still not enough.

Dean kisses back breathlessly, trying to capture air back into his lungs. He hooks a foot into the front of Cas’s waist after two failed attempts, his limps feeling like jelly. He pushes Cas away and the angel is easy to do so with no protest. He looks down at Dean with furrowed brows. He expects the hunter to call it quits. Enough is enough for tonight. But Dean flips himself over, face in the bedding with his cuffed hands above his head and his ass in the air.

“Don’t stop,” Dean’s voice comes muffled from the blanket. “I just- Cas, I need you to keep-“ He exhales shakily, still coming down from his second high.

Cas reaches out and massages Dean’s right cheek. The hunter flinches, groaning into the bed.

“I’ll keep going until you ask me to stop,” Cas says as his hands venture up and down Dean’s back. He does the same as he did with the hunter’s front, massaging and digging his knuckles into the knotted muscle. He does this until Dean is breathing heavily into the bed, body shaking with every touch. The angel can’t see, but there’s tears dampening the sheets under the hunter’s face.

The angel re-enters Dean slowly as he continues massaging the hunter’s scarred body. He’s slow and gentle, keeping his pace even as he does so.

A while goes by before Dean orders him to pick up the pace, his voice muffled in the blankets. He drags his hands underneath him, the blood circulation being cut off with how he was angled. He shudders a breath as Cas does as he’s asked, holding onto Dean’s waist as he fucks into him harder. A groan is punched out of Dean with each thrust that’s muffled by the blankets. He becomes a limp mess, the only thing holding him up being Cas’s tight hold on him.

He shakes and moans, panting and whining with each sensitive and painful thrust from Cas. It hurts. Everything burns from being used for far too long. But he just needs a little more. He doesn’t need another orgasm. He doesn’t crave it. Just the act itself of the pain and pleasure, of being used, is enough to melt his brain. He needs all thoughts to be jumbled. He doesn’t want to think.

The angel suddenly tremors, his breath hitching in his throat as he thrusts in deeply. He comes silently, the only noise being the heavy panting and breathing coming from the angel. Dean groans as Cas fucks himself through his own orgasm, using his own cum to ease the burning friction. He doesn’t stop, despite feeling Dean shaking beneath him.

Dean turns his head so that he can peer at Cas from the corner of his eye. His head is bowed, hair falling over his forehead as he concentrates on Dean. And only Dean. The hunter grinds his teeth at the thought, burying his face into the bedding once more.

He lets Cas use him until Dean can’t take it anymore. Until everything burns and until a third, dry orgasm is ripped from Dean that shakes his body. Everything becomes too much. His cock hurts and each movement from Cas is like sand paper.

“St- nah, stop.”

Dean voice is all but a whisper, but Cas hears it all the same. The angel stops instantly, letting Dean fall onto the bed with a shaky exhale coming from the hunter.

Cas is quick to reach under Dean and unbuckle his belt from his wrists, throwing it aside without a second thought. He flips Dean onto his side gently, looking the hunter over with thin lips. Bleary, hazy green eyes stare back at him before a cocky grin comes across his face. It’s faint, but it’s there. One that has Cas returning.

“Would you like me to heal you?” Cas asks softly, his voice still gruff and deep.

Dean swallows thickly, licking his dry lips. “Lemme just lay here for a bit.”

Cas nods before wandering off. Dean closes his eyes shut, concentrating on his breathing. He can’t think of anything. His body shakes and everything is oh so sensitive, but it’s probably the best he’s felt in months. He doesn’t even think he can stand let alone sit up right now. Doesn’t even feel like he can raise an arm, nor does he even want to. He’s lost track of time and damn be if Sam has been looking for him. He just needs a good nap after this now. He feels like he could sleep for days.

The bed dips again and Dean hisses softly as a cold, damp face cloth begins to clean him up. He lets Cas do his thing, not even bothering to open his eyes to look at him. When he feels the angel leave the bed, a sudden strike of panic washes over him.

“Stay,” he all but mumbles out, or may as well whined by the way his own voice sounded in his ears.

The bed dips again and a calloused hand runs down over his side, ghosting over the purple bruise. “Are you sure?”

Dean’s features furrow deeply. He reaches out blindly and grabs onto Cas’s knee. “I said stay,” he grumbles out.

He hears the angel chuckle softly. “Okay.”

-

Like, comment and reblog. Hope you enjoyed :)

[thebiggerbear]

Destiel Fic Recs List

Rec list under Read More:

Desperation by @gococogo - While on a hunt, Dean gets hit with an unknown pollen that stings the throat. But after awhile of thinking everything is fine, Dean realizes he is not fine and very horny…

Love: A Retrospective by @xylodemon - Pretending Cas is just his friend has been the only thing keeping Dean's head on straight for years. He never realized how much doing that depended on him making himself scarce in the morning ─ not until Cas came back and moved into the bunker.

Ninety One Whiskey Series by komodobits - In the spring of 1944, the 104th Medical Battalion of the United States Army is disbanded, and its men reassigned to various infantry companies in preparation for their invasion of occupied France. For First Lieutenant Novak, this is less than helpful, as he has so far met his platoon’s designated medic a grand total of twice, and has both times found Sergeant Winchester to be the optimum combination of reckless, arrogant, and downright insufferable so as to make cohesive platoon function near impossible. When the time comes to move out, however, Castiel has to reconcile himself to the fact that men are going to go down and trust that Dean Winchester may well be the only person who can put them back together again. WW2 ETO infantry AU.

Evangelist by @valleydean - In Lawrence, the Novak family owns more than god. Castiel is expected to graduate with a business degree, become a community leader, meet a nice girl, and one day help run the family business, Evangelist, Inc. Then he meets Dean Winchester, who vehemently opposes everything Evangelist stands for. When Dean’s need for cash to pay the bills leads him down a risky path, both he and Castiel learn there may be more to Evangelist than philanthropy and good will.

The Path of Fireflies by @museaway - After his humanity is restored, Dean wakes up in bed with Castiel, a wedding ring, and no memory of the past twelve years.

Twist and Shout by gabriel, standbyme - What begins as a transforming love between Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak in the summer of 1965 quickly derails into something far more tumultuous when Dean is drafted in the Vietnam War. Though the two both voice their relationship is one where saying goodbye is never a real truth, their story becomes fraught with the tragedy of circumstance. In an era where homosexuality was especially vulnerable, Twist and Shout is the story of the love transcending time, returning over and over in its many forms, as faithful as the sea.

yesterday's roses by @museaway - It was not how Castiel had envisioned their first real conversation would go, but then he’d never thought he’d trade a thriving legal career in Chicago for a job in his brother’s flower shop in Kansas, either.

Castiel Novak's Office, This is Dean by @valleydean - Dean Winchester is an executive assistant at an advertising agency. On the day his boss retires, he has an unforgettable one night stand with a new hire, Castiel Novak. The problem: turns out Cas is his new boss.

A Complete Kingdom by komodobits - The sea; it swallows me. It comes up to my knees and it swallows me. The boys owe Jody a few dozen favours, and so when her niece goes missing near an old fishing village on the coast of Maine, Dean, Sam, and a newly human Castiel agree to take the case on. They settle into an old abandoned lighthouse-keepers' cottage, and slowly the tide comes in. (post-s8)

*I will add more as I go

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[corinthianism]

corinthianism's fic recs

here are my personal favorite fanfics! idk how often i'll update this, but i hope you like them as much as i do :) *indicates smut

last updated: march 26, 2024

MARVEL

loki laufeyson - from the void, with love — by whirlybirbs (my fav fanfic of all time!!! i think about this fic several times in a day bro) - riptide — by starks-hero - the tailor* (series) — by birdofhermes (ao3) - time after time (series) — by goldencherriess (ao3) - a friend from work — by cozy_the_overlord (ao3)

thor odinson - god of fertility* (request) — by charnelhouse - highway don't care (but i do, i do)* (part one, part two, part three) — by spacelabrathor

peter parker (andrew garfield) - agree to disagree — by delicate-dorothea - nerdy peter (request) — by webslingingslasher - good boy x bad girl trope (request) — by webslingingslasher - hold you here, my loveliest friend* — by p3mybeloved - your friendly neighborhood sensitive spider* — by jin0 - glad you're home — by withahappyrefrain - the mechanics of a soul — by irndad - 3 is the magic number* — by withahappyrefrain - crush — by ptersparkers - as it goes — by forever-rogue - here comes the sun (part one, part two, part three) — by withahappyrefrain - stability, reciprocity, and a romance for the ages (series) — by privateanxieties (ao3 - need an account to read)

steven grant (moon knight) - hold me close — by stormkobra-5 - gift of min* — by astroboots - puzzles* — by stormkobra-5 - first time* — by luvpedropascal - domestic adonis* — by peterman-spideyparker - where it starts — by silversweetpea - fallen from heaven, grown on earth* (series) — by davosmymaster (ao3) - call me poe* — by kittyfandom (ao3) - elemental — by batsingotham (ao3) - the boy with the thorn in his side — by eating_flowers (ao3)

marc spector (moon knight) - not him — by loud-mouth-loser - it's worth it, it's divine* — by the-archxr - i'm getting to know someone — by davosmymaster (ao3)

wade wilson (deadpool) - tea and sympathy (series) — by bucketsoffrogs (ao3)

SHERLOCK (BBC)

sherlock holmes - your hidden strength — by okay-j-hannah - sublime dexterity* (part one, part two) — by daydreamtofiction - literally everything by starks-hero

SUPERNATURAL

sam winchester - playing house (part one, part two) — by uncouth-the-fifth - baby i'll stay (heaven can wait) — by uncouth-the-fifth - move over.* — by ggwritesstuff - where's your head at?* — by beau55515 - birthdays: sam winchester style* — by karleekarma (ao3) - the comforts of home — by zepskies - under the hood* — by shawslut

dean winchester - whether you like it or not — by kbeautimous (ao3) - reading you wrong — by zepskies - cherished — by thatonewriter15 (ao3) - soft touch — by wearywinchester - i love her, that's why* — by kaleldobrev - drivin' me crazy* — by lis-likes-fics

castiel - salt n' lick* — by aperfectgrace (ao3) - a bite of apple pie (series) — by ac_deanc (ao3)

THE SANDMAN

the corinthian - bring me a dream* (series, ongoing) — by placeinthemiddleofnowhere - nihil — by lis-likes-fics

dream/morpheus - sweet dreams (are made of this) — by stranger-nightmare

CRIMINAL MINDS

aaron hotchner - from eden — by heliotropehotch - gold star — by honeypiehotchner - love, an abstract concept — by luveline - honeymoon phase* (series) — by hotchsbitch (ao3)

THE BOYS

soldier boy (he's absolutely horrible but so. so. hot.) - break me down* (series) — by zepskies (go read their other stuff too!) - talk to me — by zepskies

homelander (also absolutely horrible. would sleep with him.) - if i can't have you — by watchstarscollide - milky white* — by after-witch

GAME OF THRONES

jaime lannister - i'm not made by design — by ichorai (this legitimately changed my brain chemistry)

STAR WARS

obi-wan kenobi - like turning on the light* — by full-time-make-believer (deactivated acc) (this also changed the trajectory of my life) - where it wasn't* — by 221bshrlocked - your thoughts are loud — by spidersbane - empty me out* — by 221bshrlocked - house of memories* (series) — by meshlasolus - bad idea, right?* (series) — by mischiefling (ao3) - you make me feel like dancing — by saradika (ao3) - it's a wonderful lie — by firstofficerwiggles (ao3) - temptation's kiss — by karasong (ao3) - you make my dreams* — by wickedscribbles (ao3) - like a living mirage — by karasong (ao3) - broken drought* — by rosalindbeatrice (ao3) - never grow up — by doihavetoloseyoutoo (ao3) - never ending story — by kybercrystal (ao3) - volveré* — by kxnobi (ao3)

din djarin (the mandalorian) - the savior* (part one, part two, part three) — by dindjiarin - significant — by softlyspector - touching din — by archieimagines - uncharted territory* — by pedrito-friskito - creed* — by wheresarizona - home is wherever i'm with you* (part one, part two, part three) — by saradika

DRACULA (BBC)

count dracula - the székely* (series) — by theplumsoldier

LOTR/THE HOBBIT

thranduil oropherion - a boon* (series) — by inksplots (ao3) - beauty and the beast (series) — by tamurilofrivendell (ao3)

DOCTOR SLEEP

dan torrance - of monsters and men* — by helaintoloki & obitwo - domestic life (headcanons) — by thornsinmycrown - smut alphabet* — by daincrediblegg

[take-it-on-the-run]

Not A Lot, Just Forever

Dean Winchester x Pregnant!Reader

After throwing up morning after morning, the reader discovers her illness isn't what she initially thought.

Word Count: 4.1k

Tags: Pregnancy, unexpected pregnancy, brief description of motel bathrooms, vomiting (repeated), self-blame, mention of reader's mother dying in childbirth, mention of childbirth related deaths, anxiety, brief loss of consciousness, Dean is a sweetheart and will make a great father.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Pregnant!Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel

@ghostlyaccurate requested: "Hii! I'm not sure if I already sent you this request, or if I sent it to someone else (oops🤭) but could I request a Sam Winchester and/or Dean Winchester x reader (your choice which one of them, if not both sepperately) where he helps reader deal with morning sickness, though he only finds out she's pregnant on the third day in a row that he's with her while she throws up. Ty!!"

Read it on AO3!

A/N: Adrianne Lenker title. I really really loved this request! I feel like writing the pregnancy trope is a sort of hard task to do, so I hope I brought it justice. I love love loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it! Thank you for the request @ghostlyaccurate, and I promise I'm trying my damnedest to work through my inbox <3. Every mistake here is completely and 100% my own and of my own doing. (P.S. can you guess how hard it was to find "aesthetic" pictures of a bathroom and pregnancy tests for the pictures for this fic?? I think the ones I found actually work pretty well! Another thing, what happened to the yellow text color? I use it to tag fluff fics, and it's gone :( ).

Dean Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

Your head hung over the foul toilet bowl of whatever motel you, Dean, and Sam were holed up in, and a rancid smell invaded your nose. In earnest, you didn’t have the slightest idea where you were. The past couple of hours had been filled with a slight fever and the constant need to use Dean as a pillow. Halfway through the drive between towns, you convinced him to switch out driving with Sam so he could join you in the back seat.

The worn tile of the bathroom floor offered you minimal comfort, and the fact you’re supposed to be up for a case in two hours made your stomach churn over again. Ditching your normal avoidance of motel bathrooms, you gripped the edge of the toilet and emptied your stomach again.

“Y/N?” Dean’s groggy voice called out from behind the door, “Are you okay in there sweetheart?”

You squeezed your eyes together, cursing yourself for being loud enough to wake him up. Sneaking out from his arms was a feat enough already, trying to suppress the sound of you losing your guts at four in the morning wasn’t going to happen; even in a perfect world.

“No,” you groaned as he softly opened the door, “I feel like shit De, and you know how much I hate throwing up. And how much I hate motel bathrooms.” You whined. Your hair was falling to the front of your face and you were cursing whoever decided a bathroom didn’t need a working air vent.

Dean hummed softly, pulling the hair back from your face and holding it with one hand as he sat behind you on the floor. He pressed his lips to the back of your head softly, and gently traced shapes on your collarbone as you laid back on him.

“Just breathe, I’ve got you if you need to go at it again.” He said softly, cradling you in his lap as you tried to breathe. He ran his hand through your hair as your breathing started to hiccup less, and eventually, he sat you on the closed toilet lid to get you water.

You felt ashamed to be keeping him up at this hour. Your phone clock read 5:13 AM, almost an hour past when you’d originally gotten up. He already doesn’t get enough sleep as is, and here you are sitting, waiting for him to get back like you aren’t able to take care of yourself.

“Here you go, drink slowly. Did you use the mouthwash I gave you?” He asked as he handed you his water bottle. He stood across from you, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants. You nodded softly, gratefully gulping down the contents of the bottle.

The bags under his eyes were already enough to make you feel guilty. Hunters were used to running on minimal sleep, but with you around, he’d just gotten into the six-hour range. He rubbed his face, inhaling like he normally did when he was trying to make a decision. You didn’t want to go out for the case. You barely wanted to move your body to get back in bed and salvage what little sleep you could before life kicked you back into gear.

“Do you want to stay here while Sam and I talk to the family?” Dean asked as if he could read your mind.

I love you so damn much. You thought, bowing your head with a sigh of relief. You didn’t want to be the one to bring up staying in; neither of you ever wanted to admit you needed breaks, but if the other one was to bring it up, it made the process easier.

You nodded, pushing yourself to your feet as he opened the door for the two of you, “yeah, I think that’s best for all of us. Don’t need me puking in the victim’s bathroom as you guys ask your questions.” You tried to joke as you and Dean crawled back into bed, tucking yourself into his arms, and splaying your legs haphazardly on top of his.

The next morning wasn’t any better.

Sam and Dean had come home late from questioning the family, and you were barely aware of them unloading the Chinese food they brought for you. Dean sat with you against his chest, still half-dressed as an FBI agent, as you wolfed down the egg rolls he got. You found yourself starving when they offered you food, but now you regretted eating anything at all.

You found yourself hung over the toilet again, but thankfully only had to put up with one round of saying goodbye to your lunch. You were able to get yourself up and over to the sink, where you repeated Dean’s routine from the morning before.

You leaned against the counter in the small kitchen, Dean’s water bottle filled with tap water in your hand. You turned to dump the rest in the sink when the creak of a floorboard behind you had you spinning on your heel in record time.

“Jesus Christ, Dean. Why are you up?” You asked in a hushed tone, placing your hand over your racing chest.

“I could ask you the same thing,” He crossed the small room and came over to embrace you in his arms, “did you get sick again?” He asked innocently, but the combination of those words, and the pitiful shift of his eyes was enough to make you feel like a child. You were a grown woman, you knew damn well how to take care of yourself much before the Winchesters were in your life.

You huffed in annoyance, pulling back from Dean’s chest. You felt your face begin to heat up, and it felt like anything Dean could say had the chance to send you over the edge.

“Yes, I did. Right now, I feel like my body is too hot and too tight for my bones, and I also feel like anything you say is going to make me hit the roof. Even if it’s nice, I just don’t think my brain can take in any more words without wanting to jump ship.” You said you rubbed your temples. Things like this had happened occasionally in the past, and before Dean, you figured it was just because you were a rigid person. One night a particularly bad migraine had led to you yelling at him because he offered to get you some medicine. Instead of just leaving you to stew, like every other partner did, he simply asked you to explain what you were feeling. No judgment, no interruptions, and he’d do whatever you said would make you feel better in that moment.

Now, whenever you felt overwhelmed, he did the same. He’d swallow any sarcastic comment or solution to your problem and listen to you. No matter what was bothering you, at whatever hour of the day, he was at your side, doing what you asked of him without hesitation.

He just nodded, pressing his lips to your forehead before he led you back to the bed you two were sharing for the case. His body threw off heat like a bonfire, and your normally freezing hands were appreciative of that. In this moment, however, it felt like you were burning from the inside out.

You adjusted yourself between the sheet and the comforter, so the two of you could still touch without pressing your skin together. Dean waited for you to still before he made himself comfy, and he gently ran his fingers through the ends of your hair.

“Is this okay right now? Do you want me to leave you be?” He asked, in as soft of a voice as he could. You hummed, smiling at the tingling sensation running through you. Comfort, and a warmth that wasn’t burning to the touch, crawled up your back, and into your head. You tried to focus your eyes for a couple of seconds more, but without your control, they forcefully fluttered shut.

“Y/N.”

Sheet tangled between your limbs, and you could see the light through your closed eyes. Opening them, you find an unexpected sight. Instead of Dean, or Sam, standing at your bedside, the trench coat-clad angel you’d met five years ago stood awkwardly, waiting for you to fully wake up.

“Cas,” you rubbed your eyes as you sat up, “what are you doing here? Where’s Sam and Dean?” You asked.

Cas sighed and sat at the end of your bed. He shot you a quick look, before focusing his eyes on the blank wall in front of him. He tapped his fingers on his legs, a habit he picked up from Sam.

“Dean called me and told me you were sick. I came in, and told him I’d try and cure whatever… ailment is afflicting you.”

You smiled at the way he spoke, and the fact Dean went out of his way to try and help you out, but there was something off about Castiel’s demeanor. You sat up and touched his arm to get his attention.

“Cas, what’s wrong? Did something happen that I should know about?” You asked softly.

“I think you’re pregnant, Y/N.” He looked at you, and there was a rift of guilt lingering in his eyes.

A course of confusion and shock coursed through your body before you felt a rotting pit settle at the bottom of your stomach.

“Why would you… think that, Cas?” You felt a tightness taking over your throat, rubbing your hand across your neck to try and loosen it.

“I can sense life forms. Human ones, at least. It was hard to tell with Sam and Dean here, but once they left I was able to confirm my suspicions.”

Your hand traveled to your lower abdomen before your mouth spat out a request without thinking.

“Pregnancy tests. Can you get me some, please? I just,” you ran your hand across your forehead quickly, “I want to confirm, using non-magical means.”

Cas nodded, “of course. I’m going to assume you don’t want me to let Dean know?”

You nodded your head before swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Deep down, you knew Cas was right. You were late by a few days, but you’d chalked it up to the illness that’s kept you on the bench for this case. You didn’t usually react as poorly as you’ve been to an illness, even when you’d gotten a terrible case of Pneumonia.

Getting up from the bed, you walked into the bathroom as Castiel vanished to get you a couple tests. Looking to the mirror, you’re met with a form of you that was a little scary; purple, slightly-puffy eyes, smeared makeup that hadn’t been washed off from days before, and your skin was breaking out in places it hadn’t before.

Dean hadn’t said a word about it, but even someone as blissfully ignorant as him had to have noticed the way your face wasn’t looking like your own.

Dean.

You’d have to tell Dean you were pregnant, with his child. That you’re going to be parents.

What if he didn’t want to be a father at thirty-six?

Children weren’t one hundred percent out of the question, but they were longer down the line in hunters’ lives. If you were lucky enough to get out of the life unscathed and find someone who would want to settle down with, you’d likely be creeping into your mid-forties, at best. Mary had gotten lucky with John, but now they’d both been taken away by the thing they’d spent half of their marriage avoiding.

What if you weren’t ready to be a mother at thirty-five?

For you, it wasn’t the question of wanting to have kids, but you never saw you or your boyfriend backing out from hunting anytime soon. To add on, you’d heard of many nasty births that ended in fatality for the infant or the mother, including your own. Every time you and the boys were on a case involving a child, you’d be extra reckless. Dean picked this up within the first couple of times you’d almost gotten yourself killed to save a kid, and you explained your fear to him. The fear of a mother not being able to welcome her child home in her arms, or the child not seeing his mother again, and their fate lying in your hands. You’d already ripped apart your family, and you tried your damnedest to keep as many together as possible.

A ruffle of feathers and a sharp knock on the bathroom door snapped you out of your thoughts.

“You can come in, Cas.”

Wordlessly, the angel stepped into the small motel bathroom holding a plastic bag. He pulled out three different pregnancy tests and set them on the counter.

“The woman working there said I should get a couple just in case one doesn’t work like it should.” He said as you picked up the first test. “I’m telling the truth, but I understand you wanting to confirm this to yourself.”

I know Cas, you thought, but you didn’t say a word. Instead, you stared at him, waiting for him to leave the bathroom, but he had a blank look on his face and didn’t move a muscle.

“Cas, I’m going to need you to leave the bathroom for me to do this.”

“Oh, sorry. Of course. I forgot how ‘hands-on’ human tests can be. I apologize.” He said blatantly before stepping out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

Fuck me.

That’s what got you into this in the first place, dumb ass.

After twenty disgustingly long minutes in the decrepit motel bathroom, you walked out holding four positive tests. Cas was sitting on Sam’s bed, staring out the window, but immediately stood up and crossed the room to you. You handed him the tests, and he placed them on the table between the two beds.

“How do you feel?” He asked. Another thing he picked up from his years on earth was the ability to know when to ask what questions.

You felt blank. Void of answers and solutions to the situation at hand. Whether or not to turn left, or right.

“I… don’t know what to do, Cas.” Your voice broke along with the tears you were holding back, and a sinking feeling of hopelessness began to dig its way through your head.

Neither you nor Dean are ready to be parents. What if Dean’s angry? He would never kick you out of the bunker. The bunker is the only real home any of you have had in a long time, but is it safe? Is the world safe enough to bring a baby into? A Winchester baby, who would no doubt be a target from birth. What if the baby doesn’t make it to full term? What if this baby kills you like you killed your own mother?

“Y/N,” Cas placed his hand on your shoulder, “I’m going to ask you to take a breath.” He drew his hand up and waited for you to inhale. Taking in a shuddered breath, you followed the flow of his hand, stopping your heart from running up your throat.

“Thank you.” You said, sitting down on your bed and grabbing the pregnancy tests off the nightstand. Two pluses, two double lines. You and Dean were careful and used a condom whenever you found extra time together, but somehow God decided that rubber wasn’t going to work as intended.

“I think I’m going to just lay here,” you tuck yourself under the bed sheets once more, the tests shoved into your pajama pants, “and wait for Dean and Sam to get home. I’ll get him out of this stuffy ass room and tell him in private. Sam shouldn’t have to witness if we- if we argue. I know it makes him feel awful.”

“That’s a smart plan. You need to take this one step at a time and do it carefully. I know Dean cares for you deeply, but if you need someone to support you, all you have to do is call for me.” Cas squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

“Thank you, Cas.” You yawned, pulling your body further under the covers of the bed. Castiel smiled slightly, before turning away and disappearing with a familiar rush of wings flapping.

Your body was covered head to toe in sweat, and the bed sheet you wrapped around yourself was thrown onto the floor. No light entered the room, and the time on the alarm clock read 1:43. Your stomach churned in a familiar way, and as you got to your feet you finally noticed neither of the boys were in the room.

You clambered to the bathroom, phone in hand, trying to call Dean. One hand braced on the toilet, and the other tried to thumb down to his contact. There wasn’t any time to think about the fact you were carrying a baby inside of you, the baby whose father is missing in the middle of the night with no calls or messages.

They always call. You thought before you set your ringing phone on the floor to throw up for the first time that morning. The phone rang, the sound slowly driving you insane each time you redialed Dean’s number between dry heaving into the bowl.

Your hair was sticking to your forehead, poorly swept away and held back by a rubber band you found on the sink. The heat, the pain, and the fear of losing contact with the Winchester brothers combined with the reality of you being pregnant was finally built up enough to break the swarm of emotions you barely choked down when Cas was in the room earlier.

Eyes burning, you slumped against the sink cabinet and brought your phone to your ear as you called Dean once again. You let out a sob, tears rushing down your face and neck, leaving behind a slightly burning trail. Your breathing became uneven, the sound of your own heart drumming through your ears drowning out the ring of your phone. Letting your phone slip to the floor, you brought your knees to your chest and folded your arms as a nest for your forehead.

Neither of the boys called within the twenty minutes you were in the bathroom, your phone was now close to being dead, and no muscle in your body wanted to obey your brain telling them to move and do something. You weren’t a weak woman, you took the cards you were dealt and tried your best to win, but sometimes all you could do was fold.

“Y/N? Y/N?”

A hand pulled your face from your knees, and you could barely see with the light of the bathroom now on and blinding you. A warm hand rested against your cheek while another briefly touched your forehead.

“Help me get her up, Sammy,” your eyes fluttered closed and you felt two arms hook under both your arms, laying them over shoulders as your feet lightly dragged across the floor.

“I’ve never seen her this bad, Dean.” The voice you now recognized as Sam said. Your legs were swept up from under you and you were laid on the bed you’d crawled out of.

You felt the tests still pressing in your pockets, and you thanked whatever greater being was willing to listen. There was no way you wanted to Dean to discover that information on accident.

Dean.

The other voice was Dean.

You moron, who else would it be?

The bed next to you dipped down, and you felt a gentle hand tuck a few stray hairs behind one of your ears. The sweat covering you was sucking every inch of clothing to your skin, and all you wanted to do was peel either of the pair off.

“I thought Cas was going to come here and help her out,” you heard his voice straining as he spoke, and you felt your heart snap in two.

You moved your hand, as heavy as it felt, and squeezed the first part of him you touched.

“Sweetheart,” you could feel Dean’s breath as he hovered over you, “you’re scaring me here.”

“Cas…” you gave out a heavy cough, “he came. He helped me figure out what’s been happening.”

A glass of water was brought to your mouth, and you took every drop of it. After swallowing the cup, your eyes finally were able to open. You were greeted by a worried Dean hovering very close to you, and a worried Sam crossing back from the kitchen holding Dean’s water bottle.

Sam set the bottle on the bedside table and sat on his bed, facing you and Dean. Dean’s attention was solely on you. His hands grabbed both sides of your face and brought his lips to your forehead, before resting against it.

“Hey,” you said, chuckling slightly, “I didn’t mean to scare you, De. You, or Sam.” You sat yourself up in bed.

“Did Cas tell you what’s wrong?” Sam asked, looking at you expectantly.

“He did, but… is it okay if I talk to Dean? Alone?” You asked softly.

Sam shot Dean a look, which Dean promptly returned with one that had Sam standing up, and walking into the hall.

Orange rays of light shone from the window of the room, and you could just barely see the sun climbing on the horizon. Dean moved to hold you in bed while you gained the composure to tell him you were both parents.

“Dean…” you breathed steadily, trying to even your heartbeat that was ramping up once more, “I have to tell you something-”

“I kinda gathered as much sweetheart,” he said lightly, lines forming around his forest-lorn eyes beautifully.

“- it’s important. I mean, it’s going to change our lives, for the rest of our lives.”

Dean’s face became more serious, pulling you to face him as he crossed his legs.

“You know you can tell me anything, Y/N.”

Do it, now. Just say-

“I’m pregnant.”

The air hung heavy around the pair of you as you handed him the tests in your pocket, and you could see the clocks turn in Dean’s mind as he stared down at them.

“But we used a rubber?” He said, and you could guess where his thoughts were wandering.

“We did, but you’re the only person I’ve been with for years, Dean, I need you to believe me when I say that.” You said reassuringly as you could without sounding like you were lying.

His face broke into a small smile, and he brought his thumb to trace over your lower cheek, “I know, sweetheart. I trust you with my heart, I just know not to use that brand anymore, seems like their effectiveness is questionable.”

You laughed, tears drying in your eyes as you pushed at him playfully, “Dean! You gave me a heart attack, you son of a bitch!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry okay!” He laughed, capturing you in a giant bear hug and rolling you on top of him. You looked down at him and brought your lips down to his.

“You’re going to be a father,” you said, beaming at him while smiling the hardest you’d ever in the longest time

“You’re going to be a mother,” he replied, smiling just as hard. Your face fell slightly, and the word mother finally kicked into your head. “Hey,” Dean said as he saw your face shift, somehow remembering the story you told him all those years ago, “Remember, we’ve got an angel on speed dial, and you know how hard it is to take out a Winchester.”

Your heart warmed at the statement, the baby inside of you was just as much L/N as it was Winchester. You loved Dean with your heart, as did he love you, and now the two of you were going to brace the dangerous world you’d spent years protecting with the amalgamation of that love.

You brought Dean’s hand to your stomach as he brought his other hand to your face. His calloused fingers were gentle on your skin, and small crinkles formed around his eyes as he smiled, holding his hand at your stomach as you gazed back at him.

A knock sounded at the door, making you turn your head around before you and Dean burst into laughter, and told Sam he could come back in the room to tell him the news.

[lovealwayssay]

I would pay an ungodly amount of money for a Supernatural finale where Dean rescues Cas from the Empty and tells him he loves him too, Eileen comes back to be with Sam, and Jack chooses to live with the four of them in the bunker as a happy family.

[redroses07]

destiel my babies

[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

⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆───⛥───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───⛥───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───⛥───⋆

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

[via-l0ve]

Hey pookie, how are you! I was wondering if you could do a romantic spn pref for sam, dean, castiel, crowley, and gabe? The plot would be that they're on a hunt with the reader and they have to infiltrait a strip club. The reader is female so she poses as a striper (she wears a white angle outfit). At one she pulls she pulls one of the guys into a private room to talk about the plan, but they see a camera in the room so the reader gives the guy a lap dance while explaining the plan as to not get caught. There is alot of sexual tension, and the guys have a crush on the reader. At this point they're only friends though. Thanks girl!

Private. (SPN Pref!) ❤️

a/n: i devoured this prompt. i am in heat. i hope you like this pookie!!!

warnings: SUGGESTIVE!!! read at your own risk, strip club, stripper!reader, lap dances, grinding, no actual smut but nsfw xx

Dean:

dean didn’t imagine this being his wednesday night.

his eyes watched you on the stage, walking around and pretending to be busy. the dainty Angel costume you were wearing hugged you in all the right places - just enough for him to imagine more.

in his distraction, he dosent realize you’re trying to get his attention.

he was suddenly pulled into one of the back, private rooms. he looked over and met your pretty eyes. he smiled.

“dean, i got info.” you smiled, closing and locking the door behind you both.

he was going to respond but his eyes caught something else. a camera. it seemed like you noticed too because you sighed.

dena watched you pull the chair to where the camera faced.

“sit.” you said in a seductive voice.

it’s just for the bit.’ dean reminded himself. he shakily sat down.

you walked toward him, back facing the camera. his eyes widened and face blushed as you started to give him a lap dance.

he was stiff as a board, too nervous to move.

“at least pretend you like it. we have to sell it so we don’t get caught.” you whisper in his ear, pressing kisses to his jawline.

shivers went down his spine and he nodded, grabbing onto your hips.

he stared into your eyes as you spoke, only being able to focus on the feeling of your hips on his, moving and grinding against him. his jaw clenched and he bit his lip, rubbing your hips with his thumbs.

you spoke about the case but he could barley hear you.

eventually you stopped, smiling at him.

“pay up, lover.” you grinned playfully.

he tried to hide his boner, giving you a forced smile as you walked away. his breath heavy and cheeks beet red.

—

Sam:

sam was nose deep in one of his papers of his research he scraped together. his cheeks were red, trying not to look up at you.

not because he didn’t want to - no. he wanted to. more than anything. but if he did, he knew he wouldn’t be able to look away.

despite his efforts, when he felt a hand on his shoulder he had to look up. it was you.

the white angel outfit you were wearing caught his attention. it was tight and revealing, something he wasn’t used to seeing you in.

“come with me.” you lean down and whisper to him. he just nodded, following you.

he then found himself sitting on a chair in one of the back rooms.

“there’s cameras. i have to play my part sammy.” you said to him, and he nodded

“anything you want.”

he blushed again as you started to give him a lap dance. his eyes widened.

you spoke softly about the case, but he could only focus on your body and how it moved atop of his own.

he pretended he was listening, but he was struggling. only feeling the fogginess of his mind and the weight of your body on his lap.

it was over much too soon for his liking

you got off of him and smiled.

“maybe we do this more often.” you said with a smirk.

—

Castiel:

poor boy

remember when he first went to the strip club

that’s him but x10 when he sees you

he’d never seen you in such clothing. not that he was complaining at all. if anything, he was ecstatic about it.

when you met his eyes from across the room, he got up and walked toward you immediately. you didn’t even have to ask (😍)

he followed you into the back rooms.

“cas. i gotta give you a lap dance.”

“what?”

“i’ve gotta play my part. is this okay?”

“…yes?”

castiel didn’t know what a lap dance was.

so when you started to actually do it

wowowowowow

he was gobsmacked.

his hands rested on your waist and he let you do whatever you had to do.

he bit back moans as he was so sensitive

but he listened intently to what you had to say about the case. his hips moved slightly with your body and his face was bright red.

he focused on your words but his eyes drank in how you moved against him and how his hands squeezed your hips

he could feel his dick throbbing against his jeans but he knew he couldn’t do anything about it

you got off of him eventually and he stayed sitting.

“c’mon. we gotta go.” you grinned and walked out before him. he was left with shaking hands and a red face.

—

Crowley:

he watched all of the people at the club with wandering eyes, stopping when he saw you

your outfit fit you perfectly and hugged you in all the right places

crowleys eyes wandered down your body as you came closer to him.

“come.” you said softly, leading him to the private rooms. he smirked.

“now, i didn’t know you wanted this, y/n.”

you just smirk and sit him down in the chair.

you start the lap dance, bringing your mouth close to his ear and whispering the plan to him, grinding your hips against his.

his hands ran over your body and hips, feeling the curves of your body and the softness of your skin

he was grinning, listening to the plan while also enjoying the thrusts and movements of your body

he wanted you to continue for hours. days. forever

but when you got off of him, he had to refrain from pulling you back onto his lap.

—

Gabe:

his eyes were on you from the start

he watched you with a passion, drinking in your appearance and how your white costume looked on your body.

the body he’d dreamed about seeing for months

that’s why he follows you into the back room without question

that’s also why he has to bite back moans when you start grinding against his lap, dancing

he watches with wide eyes, trying to listen to your words but drowning them out as he squirmed against your body weight

he gripped your hips and waist just a little bit too hard

he nodded along to the plan he wasn’t following, just watching your hips and body against his own

he let a groan slip from his lips at one point

his hips moving in rut him with your own

literally driving him insane.

but he’s not complaining

[rainydrawstuff]

I realized many fics end with them living in a cabin and I just had to. This was loosely inspired by this fic by @museaway <3 endverse + happy ending >>>>

[pinkiebieberpie]

pov: your camera roll if you were on a vacation with sam, dean and castiel

who said a hunter can't take a break? lots of fun, enjoying your time together at a peaceful place and just a little bit of hunting 🌲��️

tagging my sun @fleurfairie ☀️

supernatural masterlist

[happy74827]

The Demon With A Heart

[Crowley x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When Crowley saves your life, you can't help but think it was a little more than self-interest.

WC: 1858

Category: 99.9% Sexual Tension (lmfao), 0.01% Fluff + Angst? {TW: Mentions of Demons (obvi), Murder}

Crowley is too iconic not to have fics. I said what I said.

『••✎••』

You didn’t know how to react. It was as if your tongue was taken away, and you couldn’t talk, no matter how much you wanted to thank the man.

No, the demon.

You stood there with wide eyes, staring at the King of Hell, Crowley. He looked the same as before: a clean suit, a snarky comment, and a look of disgust on his face. But, instead of being on the opposite side, he was wiping the blood off of the angel blade he used to kill the angel that jumped you.

He just saved you—The King of Hell.

The very man who told Sam and Dean countless times that he doesn't do anything for free and doesn’t help people without getting something out of it. Yet, here he was, standing in front of you, not asking for a single thing.

The thought was a bit unsettling.

"Purely out of self-interest, darling," He says, breaking the silence and putting the stolen blade into his jacket. "Call it a favor that I plan to collect in the future."

He was about to leave, but you couldn’t let him go. Not without a thank you, at least. You didn't want him to think you didn’t appreciate what he did.

"Crowley."

The man turns back around, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.

"Thank you."

The corner of his mouth turned upward, forming a small smirk. He didn’t say anything but rather kept his eyes on you for a second longer. He then disappeared, leaving you in the dark.

And it did leave you in the dark. For days, weeks, months. He never came for that favor, and he never brought up what happened. In fact, he barely talked to you at all. It was always towards the Winchesters.

You began to believe it was nothing but a dream. That Crowley somehow didn't save you. The angel was a fake, and this was all some sick joke. It felt like gaslighting.

But you knew what happened was real. You remembered the blood splatter and the dead corpse. The way his face contorted when he pierced the angel's heart.

It was all too real.

So, why was he ignoring you? Why did he pretend that it never happened? Was he going to hold it over your head? Or was it just the fact that the King of Hell did something nice for a human?

Was it because he… cared?

One night, you got your answer. It was a quiet night filled with books, tea, and soft music. At least, it was before those idiotic brothers decided to tear down the bunker in search of some book.

You couldn’t remember the exact reason they needed it, but you were too tired to argue. So, you stayed in your room and tried to fall asleep.

That is until the lights went out and the emergency lights kicked on. Okay, now you were annoyed. You got up, slipped on your shoes and a coat, and walked out of your room.

"Alright, what did you two-"

You paused mid-sentence, eyes falling onto the figure in the library. The man was facing the opposite way, but you knew exactly who it was. The familiar black suit and hair gave it away.

"Crowley…"

"Hello, Darling,” he replied, turning around and smiling at you. It was almost unnerving. He didn’t have a malicious aura or even an evil one. Just... a smile.

You looked behind him and noticed… well, nothing. You were expecting the Winchesters to be with him, and yet, it was just him.

"Where are the boys?"

"Moose and Squirrel? Ah, they're off somewhere, doing... well, you know. Something heroic, I suppose. Figured I’d stick around… enjoy the scenery."

That’s when you looked up and understood what he meant. He was stuck, quite literally. Those devil traps they put everywhere finally did something good.

You half-expected him to bring up that 'favor' he was talking about or maybe even just demand to get out of there, but he did neither. Instead, he looked at the ground and sighed.

At the moment, the King of Hell looked just like a caged puppy, sad and alone. If he wasn’t such a… demon, you might have even felt bad for him.

But, you left him in there, strolling along to the kitchen to find some kind of light. You were not giving up your two hours of reading due to power loss.

As you shuffled through the cabinets, looking for any form of match or lighter, the lights flickered back on.

So that’s where the Winchesters were.

You shrugged and turned back to your room but stopped at the entrance to the library. Crowley was still there, but this time, his face was twisted. He was clearly pissed.

"Why did you do it?" The burning question you wanted answered for months finally came out. Crowley stopped his little fit and turned towards you, a confused expression on his face.

He looked like he had no idea what you were talking about.

"I do a lot of things, Chipmunk. You'll have to be more specific."

You walked towards him, resting down the candles and book on a nearby table. You didn’t know why, but the need to confront him was growing.

"Save me all those months ago."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

You were getting closer, now only a few feet from him. Crowley, however, didn’t back away. Instead, he watched as you moved, his expression unchanging.

"That angel could’ve killed me, yet you came out of nowhere and stabbed him. I know you don't do anything out of kindness, so why did you do it? What do I offer that no one else does?"

Crowley stayed silent for a while, not giving any indication of answering your questions.

You thought it was just a lost cause until his expression changed. It was subtle, but you caught it. The corner of his mouth turned down, and his eyes widened, then narrowed.

He almost looked ashamed.

"It's just like I said. Self-interest." He spat out, his voice sounding like venom. You almost took a step back. It still sounded like the same old Crowley, but his tone was different.

You decided to call his bluff.

"I don't believe you."

Crowley raised an eyebrow, a smirk coming across his face. He was amused by the sudden attitude, but it didn’t last long.

"And what makes you say that?"

"I saw the way you looked at me after you saved me. Hesitancy, almost. Like you were unsure. As if..."

The King of Hell stared at you, waiting for the last part of your statement. He was eager but not for the answer. No, he knew what you were going to say.

He was just waiting to hear it come out of your mouth.

"You care."

Those words hung in the air, both of you processing it. Crowley continued to stare at you, the smirk disappearing, leaving his face neutral. He had a blank expression.

A silence grew, the atmosphere turning awkward. It wasn't until the demon let out a loud sigh and looked to the side that it was broken.

"You’re really pulling on the heartstrings, Chipmunk,” he muttered, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "If I had one, I'd say it was aching."

"Do you?"

You knew what you were implying. Crowley was the King of Hell, the ruler of the damned. He was the furthest thing from human, yet he could walk among them and, sometimes, be mistaken for one.

Was it possible for him to be human or even have emotions?

Crowley looked at you and frowned, clearly not liking the topic. But he didn't deny it. It was a strange sight—the King of Hell, frowning and silent.

It was almost adorable.

"I'm not asking for anything. I just… want an honest answer."

"Well, I am a demon, love,” He stated, his tone changing to a more playful one. “Honesty isn’t quite in the job description."

"Crowley."

You were starting to get impatient, and it showed. Your voice was firm, and your posture was tense. You wanted an answer, and you were determined to get it.

The demon in question let out another sigh and looked at the ceiling as if praying for a quick escape.

"You're a pain, you know that? It's exhausting." He grumbled, rolling his eyes. "But, I suppose, since you asked nicely..."

The man looked at you, his lips pursed. He was still hesitating, which only made you more curious.

"Yes, I care. About you. Happy?"

You blinked a few times, processing the information. Did the King of Hell, the person known for not giving a shit, just admit he cares?

"I-" You started, not knowing what to say. It was a surprise but not an unwelcome one. Crowley wasn't exactly a bad guy, well, a demon.

"Do you actually mean that?"

"Now that…" Crowley started, his voice low and deep. He leaned towards you, making you back up, but the wall soon prevented you from going any further.

He was inches away, his breath hitting your face. You could see his eyes staring into yours—a pretty brown, like a mocha latte.

"…Is the kind of question that will get you in trouble, love."

You weren’t sure what he was planning, but you didn't care. The way his eyes were looking at you, the smirk on his face, the closeness...

He was probably expecting you to back away, but he was wrong. You were an avid reader, obsessive even. This scene wasn't new, nor was it shocking.

The only shocking part was the fact that you were the one in it. And, well, the fact that you didn’t mind it.

"Unlike you,” you whispered, a small smirk on your face. "I don’t care."

Your response made him pause for a moment, squinting his eyes and giving you a confused look. It only lasted a few seconds, though. Soon, he understood, and a chuckle escaped his lips.

"Touché"

You truly believed you were about to lose your chance with the man upstairs, but loud footsteps interrupted you.

"Crowley, you slimy son of a bitch! If you’re not here, we are going to-"

Dean stopped talking as he rounded the corner, seeing you and Crowley close. His expression was shocked, almost comical.

"The hell is going on here?"

You and Crowley both turned to look at Dean, a look of annoyance on the King of Hell's face. Sam came around the corner as well, sharing the same look of confusion.

Crowley gave you one last glance, a bit of disappointment in his eyes, before taking a step back. His attention moved on to the two hunters, his usual smile returning.

And despite the annoyance in the air and the confusion, the only thing that came across your mind was another question that you were sure would take control of your sleep schedule once again.

"Hello, boys," He purred, his arms moving to his side. He was back to his old self, not showing a single sign of what happened moments ago.

Had the beauty thawed the beast?

[sweetcocopowder]

Day One: Doctor

Synopsis: Dean has a check up at the doctor's and by god is his doctor hot as hell

Word Count: 2.8K

Pairing: Dean Winchester / Castiel

Warnings: Dream sex. Prostate exam ;). Doctor au. Fingering. Anal Sex. Coming in pants. Top Castiel. Bottom Dean.

Notes: It's that time of the year again! I won't be posting every single day but expect a good few fics this month. It can range between 8 to 11. I'm still working on a few and life has been a real pain lately. So we'll see. Anyways, happy reading :)

The wait had felt like forever. The blinding light were starting to strain the hunter’s eyes and bring upon a harsh headache. The waiting room for the nurse’s office wasn’t full at all. It was only Dean and another older lady. No one has come out of the nurse’s office nor has anyone gone in. It’s testing Dean’s patience a little too much. It has his leg bouncing non-stop.

Finally, the nurse’s door opens and out steps a dark-haired man that catches Dean’s eye immediately. His broad shoulders hug the white nurse’s coat a little too well and his hooded eyes look downwards at the clipboard in hand.

He licks his full lips before calling out, “Dean Winchester?”

His gravelly voice stirs something in Dean that he immediately ushers away. Dean stands up a tad eagerly, raising a shy hand.

 “Yes. I’m-“ he clears his throat. “Here.”

The nurse looks to him with the bluest of blues. Dean swallows thickly. If he’s getting a check up from him, then he won’t complain here. The nurse gestures into the room for Dean and the hunter complies without a word. He looks down at the name tag on the nurse’s chest as he passes, needing to know the name of this man.

Mr. Novak. Not anything like Doctor Sexy but where is Dean to judge. He’s just here for a check up and then he’s out of here. Back to the bunker he goes. Sam had forced him here even though they don’t do check-ups. Never do. They just go about their merry way.

Dean sits himself up on the bed as Mr. Novak locks the door behind him. Doesn’t need anyone coming in here unexpectedly.

“So, we’re here just for a check up today?” Mr. Novak asks, Dean’s gut flipping again at how deep his voice is.

“Yeah, pretty much. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Dean admits with a shrug trying to act casual.

“Good, good,” Mr. Novak comments as he looks the hunter up and down, painfully slow.

Dean swallows thickly. He’ a nurse. It’s his job to do this type of thing. Maybe he can do it without having the bedroom eyes but that may be something Dean is looking into too much.

Mr. Novak grabs a tongue depressor and moves over to Dean. “Let’s begin with opening your mouth as wide as you can,” he states lowly.

And Dean does as he’s told. He opens his mouth as wide as he can and the depressor is placed on his tongue, pushing it down. It goes a bit further back into his throat than Dean expects and he almost gags. But he holds still, staring up at the ceiling as Mr. Novak inspects his mouth.

Once satisfied, the nurse pulls away with a hum. Dean clears his throat automatically, shmacking his tongue a few times as well. He stifles a cough, blinking away the tears that formed at the corner of his eyes.

“Your oral health is good. You’re gage reflex even better,” Mr. Novak comments with his back turned to Dean.

“Excuse me?” Dean asks.

Mr. Novak flashes a small torch his way. “And now for a general check over your eyes.”

The next few check overs go smoothly and nothing out of the ordinary. But the entire time, Dean can’t seem to keep his eyes off the nurse.

“With this next check-up,” Mr. Novak turns as he’s putting on a pair of blue gloves, “this may be a bit more personal. You don’t have to do it today, but it’s better to check everything than nothing at all.”

“Wait a minute,” Dean stutters out. “You don’t mean?”

“Every man should be checked at this once,” Mr Novak says as he leans back against his desk. “Even a man at your age, you never know.”

The hunter suddenly feels very enclosed in the room. He doesn’t know if he wants to go through the humility of having a hot doctor’s fingers up his ass.

“If you’re uncomfortable, we can skip this.” Mr. Novak says, bringing Dean from his thoughts.

Dean can feel his ears burning. And all the nurse does is stare at him with hooded eyes. Dean swallows thickly. May as well go through with the check-up. The last thing he needs the other hunters- or Sam for starters is that he was killed by prostate cancer.

“No, no,” Dean stutters out, feeling his face go all the redder. “You’re right. I should get checked up.”

Mr. Novak nods with a smile that shouldn’t be as charming as it is. “I just need you to turn around with your pants around your knees and bent over the table. This will feel, foreign,” he drawls out on the last word with something in his tone.

Something that has Dean hopping off the bed and turning around quickly so that he doesn’t have to look at the damn nurse any longer. He just really hopes that he doesn’t notice that he’s semi-hard.

Quickly unbuckling his belt and slipping them halfway down his thighs, Dean tries to ignore the eyes on the back of his neck. He can feel Mr. Novak watching him and it makes him fumble a few times. This isn’t like that. It’s for medical purposes. He places his hands on the bed in front of him and tries his best not to think about it.

A large hand splays out on his lower back and Dean can’t help but flinch at the sudden touch. He stares at the poster in front of him about how the air ways work. What a lovely diagram.

“This will be cold,” Mr. Novak states, “Just relax.”

Dean steels himself, grinding his teeth down so that no ungodly noise slips through his lips. The finger is cold and well lubricated. Dean grunts, but doesn’t move an inch. Mr. Novak’s hand slips in deeper, searching for his prostate. His fingers curls inside of him, prodding in and out and you’d think a nurse would know where the damn thing is!

Then Mr. Novak finds it. And he starts kneading at it, checking to see if it’s healthy. Dean can’t help but groan through grinded teeth, his heart beating loudly in his chest. It feels too good.

“It’s a natural reaction, don’t worry,” Mr. Novak all but purrs out.

That doesn’t help Dean’s growing erection that he tries to hide in the bed. He breathes slowly in and out of his nose, letting his head dip down slightly between his shoulders.

Then a second finger slips in next to the first. Dean’s head shoots up and he’s back to staring wide eyed at the throat diagram. Two fingers now curl inside of him at his prostate, the cold lubricate now warm inside of him. He grips the sheets on the bed, drying to hold in the noises that want to make themselves known from within his throat. But it doesn’t help. He exhales shakily, a quiet whine escaping his mouth as Mr. Novak strokes his prostate.

“Are you uncomfortable with the check-up, Mr. Winchester?” The nurse asks, his gravel-like voice honey to Dean.

The hunter can only shake his head as he lets it dip between his shoulders again. He’s fine. He’s-

A gloved hand comes around the front of him and grabs at the base of his cock. Dean chokes back a gasp, biting his tongue for letting himself go.

“Like I said,” Mr. Novak begins. “It’s only natural. Let yourself go; you can crack a tooth with how hard you’re grinding your teeth.”

Dean exhales shakily as Mr. Novak begins a slow, painful pace on his cock. All while he continues to prod at his prostate. It feels like electricity is being struck down Dean’s legs and he knows he won’t be able to keep his knees from buckling if Mr. Novak keeps this up. He tries to keep his jaw relaxed but it’s very hard when he knows that there’s people outside of this room. No wonder why he locked the door.

But it all ends so suddenly when both hands retreat from Dean’s body. He dares himself to look over his shoulder at the nurse.

“We’re not done yet,” Mr. Novak says as writes down something on the clipboard on his desk. “One more check-up and we’re done for today.” He looks to Dean with a raised brow, those blue eyes lingering far too long on his exposed ass. “Do you want to continue?”

Dean swallows before breathing out a shaky, “Yes.”

“Good,” Mr. Novak smiles. “For this, I need you to keep your hands on the bed. I need a proper examination on your prostate.”

The hunter can only nod as he looks back down at the bed. A large hand places itself in between his shoulder blades and pushes him down until he’s face down in the blue hospital sheets.

Mr. Novak’s two slicked fingers slip into Dean again, stroking and scissoring him open that has the hunter groaning and grunting. It doesn’t last long though to Dean’s dismay. But he’s quick to feel the head of Mr. Novak’s cock against the rim of his ass. By God he just wants the nurse to fuck him already. His mind is a fuzzy mess and be damned if he isn’t thinking right at the moment. His desire is plain and clear between his legs and all he wants is that sweet release by Mr. Novak’s skilled hands.

He tenses as Mr. Novak pushes in slowly. The hunter can’t help the moan that comes from his mouth, like some woman in those pornos he watches. The nurse massages the back of his head with his thumb as he bottoms out immediately. He’s big, bigger than Dean would have imagined. But the painful stretch is too good to let up.

“Relax,” Mr. Novak says again. “You’re being so good for me.”

Dean shivers at the gravelly words. The hunter tries his best to relax, but it’s very hard when he can feel every inch of the nurse inside of him. Mr. Novak pulls back ever so slightly before pushing in again, earning himself another groan from the man beneath him. He sets a slow, even pace that has Dean making breathy, eager noises with each thrust.

With each movement, Dean’s painfully hard dick is pushed into the bed beneath him. It’s just the right amount of friction, he can feel a wet spot forming from how much he’s leaking. He grinds his teeth again, supressing the noises weaving their ways through his pants.

“Now, now,” Mr. Novak tsk’s as the hand on the back of his head moves to hook two fingers into his mouth. They part his jaw open, fitting two fingers between his molars to keep his mouth open. He pulls up so that Dean is now standing with his back arched. He doesn’t let his hands leave the bed, holding himself up. “What did I say about grinding your teeth. You’ll crack a tooth and I’m not some dentist that can fix that for you,” he speaks lowly in Dean’s ear.

Mr. Novak quickens his pace with this new found angle, thrusting upwards into Dean with determination. Dean tries to form words but they all but turn into panty exhales of, “Ah- hah- ah.”

If it wasn’t for a strong hand on his hip, Dean would have fallen into a gooey puddle on the ground ages ago. He knows for a fact that he’ll have a bruise their tomorrow to remind him of everything. Mr. Novak continues his even, deep thrusts that hit Dean’s prostate every time. Drool dribbles down his chin but he can’t be bothered to care. He stares hazily at the ceiling, trying his best to grind his dick on the bed. But with this new found angle he brushes it faintly every now and again.

He might come untouched at this point. Everything is a bliss and he can feel his balls tightening and his body feels too hot in his clothes right now. A bliss that has him choking and moaning with everything the nurse gives him. He’s surprised if the people in the hall don’t know what’s going on in here with how loud Dean is being.

Mr. Novak shoves his fingers deeper into Dean’s mouth suddenly. The hunter gags slightly, but takes them all the same.

“I do wonder, Mr. Winchester,” the nurse purrs in his ear, “How deep I could truly go? Would you be able to fit me down your throat without gagging? I’d love to test it in our next appointment.”

Dean thinks about it all too well. The imagine of him on his knees in front of Mr. Novak, taking every inch of him down his throat. Letting the nurse see how much of himself he can fit inside of Dean. The thought of him coming down his throat as Dean struggles to breath has the hunter tipping over the edge.

His orgasm hits him like a brick wall, electricity shooting through every nerve. It knocks the air and all his senses out of him and he doesn’t hear how loud he is. His dick twitches as hot, thick ropes of cum splatter onto the bed in front of him, spoiling the sheets.

Mr. Novak’s fingers leave his mouth but he’s quick to push Dean into the bed and the sticky sheets. He thrusts harder and faster into Dean, riding him through the last parts of his orgasm. The nurse shutters a breath as his hips stutter, coming deep within Dean’s ass. The sensation of being fill sends a shiver down the hunter’s spine, feeling the nurse’s dick twitch and unload within him.

Dean doesn’t move from the bed as Mr. Novak pulls out, patting his ass gently. His legs shake and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to walk out of here without being hauled out in a wheelchair. Paralysis by ass fucking. What a way to go.

“Dean?”

The bed suddenly slips out from under him and he hits the cold tiled floor with a loud thud. He groans out in pain, his chin now throbbing.

“Dean.”

The room shakes and everything suddenly turns very, very dark. He strikes out, feeling as if he’s falling through the floor.

He grabs onto the gun under his pillow and points it to the nearest thing that moves.

Castiel stands in front of him with furrowed brows. The angel is standing in his room. Next to his bed. Why is he here? What’s going on? Is there an emergency?

“Wha?” Dean mumbles out, his tongue still filled with sleep.

“It’s only me,” Castiel says as he crosses the space between them. He grabs onto the barrel of the gun and lowers it.

Dean blinks, once, twice and thrice. He then becomes very aware of what is going on in his pants. They feel, awfully damp. He fumbles his blankets around his waist as to not make it all too noticeable.

“What are you doing here, Cas!?” Dean barks out.

The angel frowns at this.

No, fucking way was Dean just having a wet dream. No. No. No. Absolutely not. And especially not with Castiel looking like a hunk in a doctor’s uniform. No. No. No. Absolutely not. Oh dear lord.

“You were having a nightmare. This one was causing more of a reaction from you than the others,” the angel states monotonously.

Dean’s eyes widen like a deer in headlights. “You didn’t see the dream- I mean, nightmare… did you?”

He doesn’t know how red his face is but he feels as if he’s burning up. God, how does he tell the angel to get the fuck out in the nicest way possible.

“No. I haven’t done that since you asked me to stop,” Castiel answers.

Dean’s tense shoulders sag as a breath of air he didn’t realize he as holding is expelled. Thank God or whoever is up there.

“Do you want company or, do you want to talk about it?” The angel asks calmly.

Dean shakes his head viciously. “Nope. Not tonight, bud. Thank you, Cas. Not tonight,” the hunter fumbles out, repeating himself. “I’ll be fine tonight.”

Luckily, the angel doesn’t protest like he normally does. He nods and bids Dean farewell. As soon as the door closes behind Cas, Dean lays back down in his bed with enough anger that he bounces.

What in the fuck was that!? He enjoyed that a little too much and Jesus Christ he actually came in his pants. He just truly hopes that the angel didn’t go snooping around in his dreams. Because he doesn’t think he could face Cas after that. He needs to get out of here for a while. Take a long hot shower and then an even longer drive in Baby to clear his head. He runs a hand down his face with a loud groan.

Maybe it’ll get the image of Castiel in a doctor’s coat out of his head. But damn it will it be hard with how good the angel looked.

-

Like, reblog and comment ;)

[fics-and-quotes-andthelike]

Better Late Than Never

Title: Better Late Than Never

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female reader

Word Count: ~2,143

In which the reader’s love language is physical touch, but has never touched Dean…in public.

A/N: I really hope you guys like this one! Thanks so much for reading and for your support. If you have any requests for a fic, feel free to give me a character and a prompt/explanation for what you’d like!

Your love language has always been physical touch. A quick brush of hands here, an innocent kiss to the cheek there. Whether it was your friend or your significant other, touch was just something you used to show that you cared.

So it meant a lot to you when, after you moved in with the Winchesters, Sam had quickly picked up on your love language and allowed you to give him occasional hugs. He’d also gone out of his way to hug you, or even just put a reassuring hand on your shoulder once in a while.

But even though you felt more than comfortable with Sam, you were the first to admit that you’d never so much as given Dean a high five.

In front of others.

In the privacy of an empty bunker or motel room, you and Dean had no problem brushing against each other and exchanging brief touches. Eventually, the brief touches had turned into longer ones, and hands drifted from your shoulder to the small of your back. Then those touches turned into sitting right beside each other, your head resting on his shoulder as he peppered kisses on the top of your head. And after that, kisses on your head turned to kisses on your lips, while hands on your back turned into hands grasping your hips.

But as soon as Sam, Cas, Charlie, or anyone else walked through the door, you would revert back to no touches at all.

It’s not that you didn’t want to. He truly meant the world to you. But every time someone would walk into the room, he would pull away. And you never wanted to make Dean feel uncomfortable, even if it was killing you inside. So, to respect his space, you’d never so much as given Dean a high five in front of other people.

Until today.

A hunt had gone sideways when a djinn had outsmarted the three of you and gotten its hands on Dean while you and Sam had been out getting dinner.

When you got back to the motel room to see that Dean was gone and not answering his phone, you and Sam had come up with a plan. A questionable plan, for sure, but it was all that you could come up with in the limited time that you were allowed.

Now, the two of you sat in Baby, reviewing the plan before you burst into the abandoned warehouse where Dean was being kept.

“Whatever you do, don’t engage with the djinn, got it? I’ll take care of him, you take care of Dean.”

You nodded stiffly, your eyes on the building ahead. “I hear you, I got it. But if you’re in any trouble-”

Sam sighed in exasperation. “Would you just listen to me for a second-”

You looked up at him, fury in your gaze. “I will not let that djinn take you, too.”

Sam’s gaze softened. For all of the sweet touches that you passed around, you were still a hunter, willing to hurt anything that came between you and your family.

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and leaned towards you. “Hey. We’re going to be okay, alright? Us and Dean, we’re getting out of here. And that djinn isn’t gonna know what hit him.”

He kept his hand on your shoulder until you finally nodded in agreement, a half smile taking shape on your lips. You took a deep breath and checked the bullets in your gun and the knife hidden in your jacket as Sam checked the knife dipped in lamb’s blood and the colt in his holster one last time.

As you went through your mental checklist, you couldn’t help the bolt of fear that shot through you when you realized that the djinn could have easily killed Dean hours ago.

You shook your head at the thought. Dean was tough, and if the djinn was probably desperate to make his life force last as long as possible.

You shook out your nerves one last time before you straightened up and looked towards Sam. “Alright,” you muttered. “Let’s get this thing.”

The two of you got out of the car quietly before making your way to the door of the warehouse. Sam put a finger to his lips as he tried the door. You both made a face of surprise when the door gave way easily. Sam led the way as you crept inside, hoping against all odds that the rest of the revue would go this smoothly.

But of course, it wouldn’t really be a Winchester hunt if nothing went wrong.

As soon as you and Sam entered the building, you were ambushed by the waiting djinn. With the advantage of surprise on its side, it quickly overpowered Sam and tossed him to the side before it turned its attention toward you.

You cursed under your breath and raised your gun, knowing full well that it and your knife would do nothing to save you, since the plan had been that you would never have to face the djinn. The djinn smiled at your panic, pacing towards you swiftly.

Suddenly, Sam appeared once again behind the djinn. The djinn whirled around and just barely managed to dodge the knife that Sam swung its way.

Sam risked a glance over to you. “Go! Get Dean!”

You nodded, though he had already turned back to face the djinn.

You looked around wildly, hoping for some kind of sign as to where Dean could be. You startled when you heard faint gasping coming from one of the rooms to your right.

Dean. You sighed in relief as you followed the sound. He had probably saved himself from his fantasy world. You shuddered as you remembered what he’d had to do to escape his dream, and started moving faster.

You entered the room cautiously, gun in hand. From your left, a weak voice croaked out your name.

You whirled around to find Dean weak and bound, but utterly alive. You felt tears well up in your eyes as you ran over to him, shoving your gun back in its holster so that you could grab your knife and cut through his bindings.

Dean looked up at you and smiled weakly. “Hey, sweetheart.”

You ignored him, focused solely on setting him free. Your hands were shaking, making it harder to cut through the ropes. Finally, with an extra push, your knife cut through. You dropped it so that you could catch Dean, who slumped forward as soon as he was able to move again.

You slowly lowered the two of you to the ground, allowing him to catch his breath. “Are you okay?” you asked, a slight tremor in your voice.

Dean looked up at you, his eyes soft as he searched your face. “I’m alright.”

His gaze sharpened suddenly, and he looked around the room. “Where’s Sammy?”

Your head snapped over to the door, through which you could hear sounds of a fight. You cursed lightly under your breath as you stood.

Dean moved to stand as well, but you placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him back lightly. “Stay here,” you ordered. “I’ll help Sam.”

“I’m not gonna-”

“Stay. Here.”

Dean eyed you stubbornly, but seemed to think better of himself, and nodded once for you to go on. He watched as you picked up your knife and handed it to him before you exited the room, jumping straight into the fight.

He sighed and leaned back against the wall behind him. Normally, he wouldn’t have stayed behind, regardless of what you or Sam said. But as he lay still against the wall, he couldn’t help but remember the dream that he’d been forced into.

You, him, and Sam. There’d been no more monsters. No fighting, no war. Just the three of you, living peacefully.

Jess had been there. She and Sam had gotten married, and Sam was the happiest man around. Or maybe not the happiest. Dean himself had been pretty happy too, with you by his side, through sickness and health. Finally free to hug and love each other freely, regardless of who was around.

He smiled as he looked back on it, but immediately broke out of his memory and jerked to attention as he heard footsteps enter the room.

Panic filled his body. Was it the djinn? Had he gotten to you and Sam? He clutched the knife you had given him in his hand, ready to make good use of it.

He heard Sam call out his name, relief filling his body. Dean opened his eyes and stood slowly, smiling at the two hunters watching him with concerned eyes. “Hey, Sammy.”

You heard Sam laugh breathlessly in relief while your eyes raked over Dean’s body, making sure that he wasn’t hiding an injury.

Dean tilted his head slightly, meeting your eyes. “I’m fine. Honest.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. You were aware of Sam saying something next to you, but you couldn’t focus on his words, your attention solely on Dean.

When Dean looked over at you again, a small smile on his lips and concern in his eyes, you couldn’t help yourself. You threw down your weapon and ran over, throwing yourself into his arms.

You’d never been hugged like that before.

His arms wound themselves around your body and tightened, pressing you against him. His hands were open, one resting on your shoulder and one on your side, both tugging you closer than you thought possible. His head rested on top of yours, and he murmured reassurances into your ear as he slowly rocked you side to side.

Through it all, you could faintly hear the sound of Sam leaving the room, giving the two of you some space.

When you finally pulled back, Dean’s hands didn’t leave you, instead resting on your hips as he pressed his forehead to yours.

Your hands fluttered between his shoulders, his neck, and his face as you closed your eyes and inhaled a shaky breath. “I thought you were dead.”

Dean chuckled and gave the barest shake of his head, bringing his hands up to rest them on yours where they sat cradling his face. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You laughed. “Because my life revolves around you?”

“Because then we’d never be able to tell Sam about us.”

You felt your face change, your smile dropping as you stepped away from Dean.

He looked back at you as his arms dropped down to his sides, hurt evident on his face. “What did I do? Are we not…?”

“No!” You exclaimed, shaking your head quickly.

You saw disappointment and shame flit across his features. You shook your head again. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant…I just…I wasn’t sure.”

“Sure about what?”

“It’s just…” You steeled yourself. “You always pull away from me. I thought maybe you were embarrassed or something. Or maybe you just wanted me to help you feel better-”

Dean’s whole body jerked with surprise and he stepped towards you, arms outstretched. “No, sweetheart, that’s not it at all. I’m just…” He hesitated, only a step away from you as his arms dropped. “I’m not good with mushy gushy crap. You know that.”

You smiled cautiously. “I know. Nothing wrong with that.”

He nodded, unmoving.

You took a step towards him. “Maybe we could…work on it together?”

A smirk crossed his face as he reached an arm around your back and pulled you closer. “Oh, yeah?”

A laugh crossed your lips. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Dean leaned his head down to softly brush his lips against yours. “I know.”

You felt him stiffen as you both heard footsteps re-enter the room, with Sam loudly complaining, “You guys good to go?”

You moved to pull away, muscle memory taking over, when Dean suddenly cupped your face with one hand and pressed his other hand against your back. His eyes searched yours. “Is this okay?”

Your heart was hammering against your chest, the knowledge that what you said could determine your whole relationship with both Winchesters weighing on your brain.

You heard Sam’s footsteps moving closer and smiled breathlessly. “Yeah,” you managed to say before he connected his lips to yours.

“Guys,” Sam repeated as he stepped into the room. His eyes landed on the two of you, your hands cupping Dean’s face as he pulled you closer still. He chuckled and turned away, but not before shouting, “It’s about time!”

He could hear Dean telling him where to shove it as he walked away, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that the two of you genuinely believed that nobody had noticed your secret relationship these past two years.

Oh well, he thought to himself. Better late than never.

[th30ra3k3n]

“i can do it myself.” person a:

“i know you can, but let me.” person b:

[take-it-on-the-run]

And I Love Her

Sam Winchester x Reader

The reader and Dean are being tortured by Gordon Walker because of her relationship with Sam, and all they can do is hope he'll get there in time.

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags: Torture, graphic depictions of being cut into, descriptions of gore and severe bodily harm, Sam Winchester is out of character depending on who you ask

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Dean Winchester, Gordon Walker

@ghostlyaccurate requested: "Hii! Can I request a Dean and/or Sam Winchester (sepperate) x fem! Reader set in season two, with an established relationship, where it's like when Gordon kidnaps Dean, but instead of just Dean he also kidnaps reader. (I can imagine if it's a Dean x reader Gordon uses reader to get Dean to not try anything, and if it's a Sam x reader Sam just going even more ballistic than he originally does in the show). Thank you!!"

Read it on AO3!

A/N: Beatles title. My first Sam fic! Honestly, it was really hard writing this one for some reason, and after five revisions I'm still not completely in love with it. Regardless, I hope you enjoy, and heed the warnings! Do not read if this will make you uncomfortable!

Sam Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

Gordon stared blankly at the wall in front of him while you tugged at the ropes on your wrists. A bandana was tied tightly around your mouth that tasted like dirt and your own blood. Dean was tied up to the left of you in a similar state, and both of you were staring down Gordon like it would kill him.

Traps lined every entrance from the doors to every small crack in the wall. Sam was powerful, but you doubted he could break through solid brick. Grenades, tripwire, even a shotgun trap that looked like something straight out of a movie; Gordon wanted Sam dead at all costs.

You knew your boyfriend would come to you and Dean’s rescue, but damn was this cutting it close. Gordon had already tried his best with Dean, but when it was your turn, he took his sweet-ass time.

He punched you, kicked you, even spit on you. Now, you tried your best to not scream as he dragged a knife against the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder.

You failed.

Biting down on the bandana, a muffled scream ripped through your lungs. You tried focusing on Dean, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes which were spilling over with more tears than you thought were in your body.

You could feel your blood dripping down your back and your chest, slithering its way to the floor as Gordon wiped his blade with the rag in his back pocket. He wrenched your head to the side, forcing the fresh wound close and for more tears to streak down your face.

He repeated his process on you a few times.

Your arms.

Your hands.

Your legs.

Every time somehow hurt more than the last, the hunter pulling open your skin and snapping it back together like a rubber band. Your vision was spotty, but you held steadfast to the thought that your boyfriend would be here any minute to save the day like he always did.

Gordon took a step back, wiping sweat and blood from his face and arms. He looked down at you with a glare that you’ve held plenty of times for the less-than-human creatures in the world. You guessed that, in his eyes, you, Sam, and Dean, were held in a similar regard.

Snaps.

Taunts.

Cracks.

Screams.

All because you fell in love with someone born under a bad sign.

You didn’t regret meeting Sam. Kissing him, falling for him, even the idea of just having him in your life was enough for your mind to justify the situation you were in. It wasn’t his fault you were having your life drained out of you minute by minute, and you hoped he would be smart enough to know that.

“Sam’s going to be here any minute, you know. Gotta convince himself he’s the hero of this story, and I’m the big,” Gordon turned to you, knife in hand, “bad, evil dragon. But I’m not the one with demon blood, am I, Y/N?” He placed the edge of the blade against the bottom of your chin. You could feel the cold steel heavy against your skin, and any sudden move would surely spill even more of your blood.

Dean glared at Gordon, his face shades of purple and blue, which mirrored the pain you felt along your entire body. Gordon dug the knife into the bottom of your chin, piercing your skin ever so slightly, but not enough to fatally wound you. Your mind was trying hard to hold onto the cracks of reality that remained in your vision; the smell of the dingy house you were in, the feeling of the carpet making contact with your boots, anything that wouldn’t send your consciousness reeling over was enough of an anchor for you to hang onto.

Gordon walked away from the two of you, returning to his position of peering out one of the boarded-up windows in wait for Sam. You glanced at Dean, which granted you a glance back from him. His eyes were dry, but they held enough behind them to let you know what he was thinking. Sam was going to burst into this booby-trapped hellhole, and Dean could do nothing but blame himself.

It’s all your fault, really, a thought that smashed through what you knew was the truth said.

This isn’t any of our faults, you told it back, wanting to tell Dean the same. Sam wasn’t to blame for the two of you being taken, and neither of you was at fault for being used as bait; it all landed in the hands of the rogue hunter who deemed himself holier-than-thou.

Though you couldn’t see yourself, you knew you were starting to resemble a bloody pulp more than a human being. Dean could barely look your way for longer than a second, and deep cuts that surged whether you moved or not continued to scrape away at your consciousness.

Gordon disappeared, and as you tried to turn your head to follow him, you felt a burning pain across your chest. Highlighted by a spurt of blood splattering over your thighs, you wanted to vomit. The top of your head started to feel like it was being lifted off from the rest of your skull, and the black spots in your vision connected at the edges of your eyes.

You grunted, head going slack and opening wounds on the back of your neck. Either spit, blood, or bile dripped out of your mouth, but at that moment you didn’t care- the black at the corners of your eyes bled together, and all you could do was limply hope Sam would find you.

You blinked, slowly, noticing light creeping in from the boarded-up windows. The second thing you noticed was the searing pain in your body, coupled with grunting and what you could guess was a well-landed punch.

“Y/N!” Someone called out to you, but you could barely lift your head to meet their voice. The bandana in your mouth was pulled away and hands cupped your face, warming your skin that was ice cold after losing so much blood.

The hands left your face and moved to the ropes at your wrists, cutting them off quickly and placing your arms in your lap. You forced your eyes up high enough to see it was your hero, Sam, standing before you with tears starting to fill his eyes. If your face would’ve let your smile, you would’ve, but every movement flashed the memory of Gordon cutting into you.

Gordon.

“Where’s-” You managed to sputter out through a sore jaw and a severely dry mouth.

“Dead,” Sam answered coldly. For the first time, you noticed his knuckles were a hue of bright purple, complimented with blood splattering up his arm. Sam moved your arms around his neck and picked you up as gently as he could.

“Dean’s already in the car patching himself up. I’m going to try and lay you down in the back seat so we can get to the closest hospital. I left Gordon in the room by the first door, so keep your head to my chest if you don’t want to see him, okay?” He asked softly. The tears that were in his eyes had faded slightly, but you could see the emotions he’d no doubt try to hide later on. Regret, blame, guilt - the more he looked at you, the more you could sense that your battered state was tearing away at his consciousness. You wanted to reach out, hold his face, and tell him you’d be okay, you’d survived worse, that it wasn’t his fault, but your thoughts were halted by Sam stepping past Gordon’s body.

If you could call it a body, that is.

His nose was sunken into his face enough that his eyes were slightly popping out of their sockets. His mouth had more gums than teeth, which were scattered around the room. He was lying against a dresser, and his limbs were spread out in the wrong directions. You thought you saw a bone, but before you could look closer, Sam turned and shut the door behind you.

Sam laid you across the back seats of the Impala, trying his best to be gentle with the abhorrent number of cuts across your body. You couldn’t guess how the hospital wasn’t going to ask questions, but you hoped the brothers would figure that out. Your head laid in Sam’s lap, and he looked out the window as Dean buried Gordon.

“Sam,” you slowly moved one of your arms to his face, bringing his attention to you, “thank you. You saved us both. You had to do what you had to do.”

Sam smiled but still didn’t say a word as he dipped down and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You wanted to be able to tell him everything your racing mind was coming up with but were beaten by the overwhelming need to not move. Dean climbed into the front seat, beating the gas pedal to the floor and hitting the highway as Sam ran his fingers comfortingly through your hair.

[tremendouscreationperson]

Sam decided that enough was enough. They had been dancing around each other for too long. He couldn't take it any more.

It would be subtle, his words weren't harmful or forceful. He simply commented "maybe if you had a more feminine vessel you could blink your pretty eyes and this would be over" as he exited the motel room, conveniently going to 'the library'.

Castiel frowned deeply.

He had not thought about this vessel, had not considered it to be incorrect. But as he digested Sam's words... Maybe it was. His feelings - new and uninhibited - were strong and he was fascinated with the older Winchester, however Dean glanced at women. Dean didn't glance at men and Castiel was technically a man.

Dean's gaze caught Cas', his mouth was ajar and he wore a matching frown. "Cas don't listen to that ass hat."

But Castiel couldn't help it. This was all new, he had been invited on a hunt and found himself enjoying the slow path. He liked living a 'human' life, the normality of it was refreshing. He didn't have to defend his position in Heaven or fight on the front lines. He could simply be.

Being in Heaven was horrid now he had openly defined God and his siblings in favour of the Righteous man and his family.

Castiel had made that decision and by doing so essentially snapped his own halo.

And now he was just considering that maybe he should have stayed up there. Stayed emotionless because why was this vessel not satisfactory? Why did he have these doubts that he would never had had years ago?

Castiel moved with an effortless grace to the bathroom and stood in front of the small mirror. His face was fairly symmetrical and he had proportionate features.

He didn't see the need for beauty in himself but his eyes caught movement behind his right shoulder and there it was. Dean stood, concern splattered across his features but by God he was glorious. Dean Winchester was perfect. He was beautiful in body and soul.

Castiel realised now that 'blinking your pretty eyes' could work if it was Dean doing the blinking.

"Do I not have 'pretty eyes'?" Cas' eyes were small and blue. There was not much else about them.

"Cas, you're fine. Your eyes are 'pretty'." Dean's own stared a hole into the back of Cas' head.

"Is this vessel displeasing?" Castiel observed his face again, each line, each hair, each imperfection.

"No." Dean was firm. He broke eye contact, looking around the subpar facilities before coming back to Castiel. "You're not displeasing."

Cas couldn't believe that. How could he when it was plain to see? Memories flashed of Dean putting distances between them and breaking their prolonged eye contact and being the first to tell Cas off. Dean was disappointed. He found it hard to be close to Castiel in public and in private which felt... It felt sore? There was discomfort. Castiel found that he was fond of Dean, so so much, but Dean was embarrassed. He clearly didn't like this body.

"Do I embarrass you?" Castiel found himself asking. His hands plucked at the trench coat. "I could change my appeara-"

"No." Dean was firmer.

"Dean."

"Cas."

"It is no bother." Perhaps if he pretended it wasn't Dean would feel comfortable?

"Cas, you're fucking gorgeous." Dean snapped, rolling his eyes.

That took Castiel aback. He was gorgeous? The Angel found himself looking at his borrowed face again. He didn't see it.

He was just human.

Nothing special.

But if Dean thought that...

"If you're s-"

"I'm sure." Dean spoke, he had closed the distance, his words were quieter due to the proximity. "You're-" He swallowed. "You're hot."

Castiel couldn't stop the expression if he tried. The mirror showed his coy smile and Dean smirked back. Castiel's face felt warm, Dean was correct, he was hot. "I'm not sure why Sam would say such a thing."

Dean swallowed, his tongue scraped against his teeth. "He's trying to get a rise outta me."

Cas quirked his head to the side and Dean's eyes crinkled.

"Fuck it, it's been long enough-" he sighed "-Sam knows I find you attractive and I'm sorry if that is strange. I know it isn't you and I've been dealing with the fact that you're a man but fuck it- it's not the body that hot, it's you, Cas. It's the Angel who saved my ass, it's the friend that laughs at my jokes when I know you don't understand them, it's the way you wipe blood off your angel blade." He made a humming noise and Cas found himself short of breath.

"I-" Cas cleared his throat. "Dean."

That word snapped Dean from reminiscing and the human spun Cas to face him. "This is exactly what Sammy wanted and I'm going to fucking kill him but God you're sexy."

Cas watched Dean wet his lips and dragged his eyes back up. "I find you equally as attractive."

That's all Dean needed to hear.

He crowded Cas, who was already leaning against the sink, and kissed him with years worth of want.

He poured everything into the kiss. Every want, every need, every almost, every if, every dream, everything. So much so that he hoisted Cas upon the sink and found himself in-between Cas' thighs.

Dean had to breathe. Fuck being human. But he didn't let that stop him. He kissed his way down Cas' jaw and nipped at the exposed skin of his neck. Dean had always appreciated from afar the loose tie and undone buttons but close up he was buzzing. He finally was able to suck at Cas' jaw and bite and lick along the veins that teased him.

"Fucking beautiful." Dean didn't speak that for Cas. He merely stated the obvious for anyone to hear.

Cas found himself twitching and gasping at the sensations. Finding that he loves the sound of Dean's voice right at his ear, it made his spine straighten and his abdomen had developed a warm feeling.

"Dean." Cas' voice was deeper. How had his voice become deeper?

The human looked up at Cas and he was struck, once again, at how perfect Dean was. Physically he was beautiful, he would've had his own temple if he was born a few hundred years ago. But his soul danced around, glowing iridescently from his being.

Unbeknownst to Dean his green eyes reflected all of this. All of his soul and hopes and desires and everything the little human wanted to give.

"You-" Cas tried. "Your eyes are-"

Dean let them fall to Cas' lips and back up to meet his blue orbs. "Not as nice as yours."

Cas didn't know how to respond. He hadn't known how to navigate any of this but he did what he thought was best; he lent down and met Dean's lips.