#dean x curvy!reader

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Just Breathe- Series

Good evening everyone! here is the second chapter in the Just Breathe Series. This series was inspired/prompted by the ask that was submitted by @deans-spinster-witch to read the first chapter click here for the original post. @deans-spinster-witch was gracious enough to lend her skills in ruffing out a few of the mishaps in chapter one, and I will post that updated version at some point and link it, and did the same for this second chapter. 

Here is the original ask for a refresher.

Ask from @deans-spinster-witch:

Tell me about Dean falling in love with a girl who has long covid - maybe they met when he saved her from a monster and they became friends, she occasionally helps him with research or patches him up if he gets hurt.  He doesn’t hear from her for a while, and when he goes to check on her, he finds out she’s in the hospital with Covid - a monster he can’t save her from.  He realizes he loves her, but may lose her.  After she gets out he keeps coming to check on her because he knows she tires easily/has trouble breathing at times.

This second chapter is going to start with a bit of time jump, but don’t worry we got flashback a plenty to fill in the gaps. Multi POV between the main character, Y/N, and Dean Winchester, mentions of Sam Winchester. This is angst, sweet/fluffy, swearing, implied sexy times. Oh and word count is at 7,250-ish, sorry but not sorry. 

Sadly the Winchesters are not mine, but the story is so please don’t steal and post as your own. But likes, reblog, and comments are always welcome. As always any mistakes like grammar, spelling, function is also all mine, so be kind when pointing it out, I do my best. 

I would like to know if you like this chapter would you want to see a third chapter? or maybe a prequel to answer any questions you might have regarding Y/N and Dean? Let me know. 

Thank you again for reading, and you would like to send me a prompted or story idea, send it my way. 

Happy Reading

Time Jump to 4 months ahead. 

Y/N POV

Shit, Shit, Shit! Where the hell are my keys! You yell out in frustration as you move frantically around your house, looking for the one thing that you need to get to your appointment on time. Tossing the pillows from the couch, goddamn it! You were never like this, ever since COVID, your short term memory has been foggy to put it nicely. Resorting to keeping both a paper list and digital one on your phone, is your new normal. Walking into a room to do something, and instantly forgetting what you came for. Case in point, not remembering where you put your goddamn keys! 

You hate running late, you pride yourself on always being early to things, and this appointment was an important one. Walking into the kitchen, you start to look in the not so obvious places. Opening up the fridge, nope not in there. Pull open the freezer next, yep there they are, right next to the pint of mint chip ice cream that you just had to have yesterday at like 11 pm. Only to then be disappointed that you now can’t stand the taste of your once favorite ice cream, fuck you COVID! 

Ugh, seriously, you are going to be the death of me, you think. Grabbing your keys, you push the freezer door closed, and head off to the hospital for your fourth month CT scan. Locking the door behind you, the crisp air of fall hits you. God how you don’t want winter to come any sooner then it has too. Winters in Michigan can be brutal, especially on the coast line. Pulling your light jacket close to you, you quicken your pace and get into your jeep to start up the car quickly, and pull out of the driveway. Not noticing the very familiar black impala parked about three houses down. 

****

You make it with time to spare, as you wait in the waiting room after checking in, you try your best to calm yourself. Fiddling with your phone, you find that scrolling through Instagram is getting you nowhere and your emails have been radio silent for months now. Exhausted, you put your phone away, you look around the room. For mid morning it's not too busy, the daytime talkshow mixes in with the white noise of the hospital. It's so beige, beige carpet, walls, even the uncomfortable furniture is beige. It makes sense, given it's a hospital; money should be spent on actual patient care, not on the latest interior furnishings., But still, at least get some interesting artwork. Looking to the piece across from you: an abstract painting of paint strokes in grays, blues, and you guessed  it, beige.

“Ms. Moore?” The nurse's voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you look up to see her standing at the entryway in blue scrubs, dark brown hair pulled back, with a kind smile. 

“Yep” you reply to her, but you're sure she would have guessed that was you, as your head snapped at attention when your name was called. “Hi”, giving her a smile as you walk towards her.

“Hi,” she replies, “can you tell me your last name and date of birth?” She starts walking down the hallway, looking at your chart, the path was second nature for her. You rattle off your last name and birthday for her, then she stops just off from an open doorway, “right in here.” Letting you walk in first.

She takes a seat at a desk, swiping her badge to start keying in some information. “So, here for your four month CT scan.” she states, but it also feels like a question.

“Umm, yeah, it's my second one.” You reply, still getting used to coming to the doctor more than twice a year. You only ever went if you were feeling really sick. 

“Looks like the first one was clean, but we like to do a few in close succession when someone has had a severe case of covid.” she explains, her eyes are kind, and reassuring, “I am sure this one will be just as good, and then hopefully the doctor will schedule them farther apart.”

She must see the worry on your face. Not sure how to respond, you just nod your head. She takes your vitals, asks if anything else has changed since your last visit, and if there were any other concerns you wanted to discuss today. “No, I don’t think so.” 

Typing a few more things in the computer, and then swapping her badge again to lock the computer. “I am surprised your brother is not here with you today.” 

“What?” You're taken aback by this, brother, does she mean Dean? How would she know about him? Was it in your chart? You don’t remember adding him as your emergency contact.

She can tell you are put off by this. “Sorry, I should have re-introduced myself. I was your nurse when you were in here with covid.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, I should have…”

“No, it's fine. Honestly, I wouldn’t expect you to remember me.”

Thinking back to that time, she does seem familiar now, “well it's nice to see you again…” struggling to remember her name quickly, but not inconspicuously looking at her badge, “Bridget.” This gets a laugh out of her, and you do the same. “I was happy to see your name on the schedule today, and I thought you were the one with the very cute, and very attentive brother. That's why I am surprised he is not here.”

Ah yes, Dean, not being here. That is a long, long story that you're sure she does not want, nor has the time to hear right now. You give her a forceful smile, “Yeah, Dean, he has something today, so just me.”

Her smart watch goes off, and she looks at the time, “well we should get you down to CT. After your scan, we will come back here and the doctor will be with you to go over the results.” She gets up, and you follow. 

****

The wait feels like forever, and in the small exam room with nothing to look at but an exam table -and beige walls - you were lost in your head. Worrying about what if they found something, what if you developed lesions, or anything that could compromise your health. God, how you wish Dean was here, or even Sam. Someone to hold your hand and distract you from the impending doom and dark thoughts that were creeping in. Dean would distract you with lame jokes, or stories about how Sammy was terrified of doctors. He would get you to smile anyway he could, probably go so far and raid the supplies of tongue depressors and cotton balls, saying something like “they don’t need all of them, do they?”

“Ms. Moore, how are we today?” The doctor's voice breaks up your fleeting thoughts of Dean, as if he was right there, but as soon as the man in the white coat opens the door and steps through, Dean disappears. 

“Umm, good, at least I hope so.” You reply, wanting to keep the pleasantries short, let get to the point so you can get out of here. 

He takes a look over the file, and then pulls up the scans on the computer. He seems to be taking forever, did he not look at them beforehand! Come on man just tell me already! “Everything looks good, I am not seeing any growth of lesions or scar tissue from the tube.”

Relife floods your body, letting out a sight, “oh that great news, so I am done with coming in?” you hope so, wanting to never see this place again, at least for a while. 

He turns to face you, his dark brown eyes are kind, but you can tell right away he is not going to give you the answer you want. “Not yet, but we can push them to every six months.”

Okay, twice a year, I guess that is a compromise you can take, “okay, so I will see you in the spring.” Starting to get up to leave, but he stops you.

“In two months, we can start doing six month visits. I want to see you again one more time in two months. If that scan is clean then we push them to six month visits.” He explains. 

You sit back down in defeat, you're going to be back here in two months, really! You know you can’t take your frustration out on him, he is just looking out for your health and doesn’t want to miss anything. “Okay.” Slightly defeated, wanting nothing more than to curl up on the couch, and sleep for the next two months away. 

Giving your hands a reassuring pat, “two months will fly by I promise. Is there anything else you want to discuss today? Still having some memory issues?”

You know that you should be honest with him, that you think you have gotten worse since Dean left, but honestly are you sure? He did so much for you in that short time, maybe, you were like this before, and he just didn’t point it out. Plus you just wanted to go home, what really could he do anyways? “Nothing new on that. I think I just need to get back to my normal routine and I will be fine.” 

Getting up from his chair, “Sounds good. I will send Bridget back in, she will get you set up for your next appointment. We will see you in two months. Have a good day.” shutting the door behind him. You're back alone in that quiet room.

Alone, you're alone, once again. You can feel the panic start to creep in. Alone, and even though the scan was good, he still wants you to come back. Alone, no one to hold your hand, no one to make stupid jokes. You did this to yourself, you know that, he would have stayed, you pushed him…

“Alright, Doctor says two months humm.” Bridget's voice breaks through. It's light and airy. Trying to make the situation as pleasant as possible. As soon as she sits down, she can tell you're not alright, “Hey, what's wrong?” She asks, setting down the chart, and focusing on you.

Feeling a tear run down your cheek, fuck why are you crying.  “Umm…it's nothing….yeah two months…” You take a ragged breath, pushing all your emotions down, down, down, to the deepest part of your soul where they should always live. You can cry when you get home. Suck it up for two more minutes!

“Hey, talk to me, what’s going on.” She is not letting you wash this away, she grabs the tissue box, and holds it out for you to pull a couple out of the box. “Your scan was clean, the doctor is just being cautious that's all.” 

“I know it's just…I really wish he was here….”

“Dean,” she replies, filling in the blanks. You nod at this, and wipe your eyes and face. “I am sure if you talk to him, he will come to the next appointment.”

Oh if she only knew, but you couldn’t lay this all out on a complete stranger. Again she just wants to do her job, and move on to the next patient, you're taking up too much of her time. “I am sure you're right.” Taking a few ragged breaths. 

She gives you a reassuring smile, and turns to the computer to book your appointment, reminding you that you can always change it to accommodate if Dean can’t make it this time. “I could tell he really cares for you. Even in the short time I saw him, he wouldn’t leave your side for anything. Practically had to kick him out every night when visiting hours were over.” Trying to make the situation light, and hopefully get a smile back on your face. 

Giving her a short laugh, “yeah that sounds like Dean.” You can see it, him waiting until the last possible second. A security guard to escort him out.

Both of you get up, and she walks you to the door, and down the hall towards the exit. Seeing you coming back around, she decides to let you in on a little secret. Stopping you before opening up the door to the waiting room she leans in slightly. “Just between you and me, I knew he wasn’t your brother.”

“What….I mean…no he is….” You stammer out, hoping that she wasn’t going to bust you for…something, you're not sure? But still not wanting to get into trouble.

“Don’t worry dear, it's fine.” She quickly replies, trying to calm your fears. 

You let out a sigh of relief, “How did you know?”

“Two things. One he just pulled on my heartstrings so much that I figured what would be the harm in him sticking around, even if he wasn’t related. Plus, if I was ever lucky enough to have a guy look at me the way he did to you, I would want him to be by my side every second.”

Her smile is contagious, and although you're still doubting that what you feel for Dean would ever be reciprocated, now is not the time to hash it out with her. “What was the second?”

“I may have heard him one night on the phone with someone, saying he couldn’t lose you, that he needed to tell you that he was in love with you.'' She says matter of factly, pushing the door open and waiting for you to walk through. 

*******

Dean POV

He watches as she pulls into the driveway and shuts off the car. He had followed her from a safe distance from the hospital to the store, and then back to her house. She didn’t notice once, even though he had taught her in the past how to spot a tail. Did she get bad news? Maybe it's the COVID that is affecting her hunter instincts? Fuck, if thats the case, what else could she be missing? Is it stupid and desperate of him to be following her, and watching from a distance? Maybe, but also not, if she is not noticing simple things like him following her. What if  Lucifer, or one of his henchmen, came after her? Anxiety just thinking of irrational attacks on you causes his chest to tighten as he pulls back into the parking spot a few houses down.

He should be a man and go up to you, talk to you, and see you face to face. He missed you, your smile, your laugh - fuck, everything about you. He knows he screwed up. As soon as he did what he did, he wished he could have taken it back, but the damage was done. He kept saying it was for the best, that you would forgive him, and move on. But you can’t forgive him unless he stops being a little stalker and owns up to what he did.

Flashback to the night of the big blowup. Dean POV

Standing there, staring down the closed door, you wish right now you had superpowers to see through the door and see if she’s alright. Hell, you don’t need to be a superhero to know she’s not. You're just wondering what brought this on. “Y/N, come on, talk to me” you plead, softly knocking on the door. “I am sorry…I don’t mean to…” your rambling stops when you hear soft sobs from the otherside of the door. 

“Just go away Dean!” She yells between sobs. “I can’t breathe with you here… I can’t…”

You grab the door knob, fear and pressure weighing down on you to get to her, to hold her.  Most importantly, to make her understand that your overbearing protectiveness is coming from a place of needing to be in control, that you care for her, and need to protect her “Y/N, please just open the door, let's talk? I promise I will ease up, I can do better.”

You can hear her give a small laugh at that, you're about to question her on this when your phone goes off. Screw it, let it go to voicemail, she is more important than anything else. “I am not giving up on you, on us. You have to come out eventually.” 

Your phone stops ringing for a second and then starts back up again. What the Hell? “You should answer that, Dean.” She states without hesitation, but  with an undertone of sadness. 

Letting out a sigh, you turn around. “Fine if you want to talk via phone, fine.” Walking away from her door into the living room, you pick up your phone from the coffee table. To your surprise it's not her name across the screen, but Sam’s. “What?” you bark out in frustration, not really wanting to talk with him right now. 

“Dean, back off.” Sam says matter of factly. No pleasantries, just straight to the point. 

“She called you? Why?” Confused as to why she is including Sam on this.

“She just needs some space, Dean, I think it's time you come back. Jody called and…” Sam calmly says, trying his best to diffuse the situation from the other side of the country. 

“No, Sam, I am not leaving her! I can’t lose her again, I won’t… I love her, man…”

Your back is to the hallway, so you don’t notice Y/N standing there, listening, hearing  what you should be confessing to her and not your brother. You don’t see her wondering why can’t you just say what you feel? Why can’t you just let down your guard with her and tell her?

*****

The slamming of a trunk pulls Dean back to the present, and he looks up to see you carrying an arm load of groceries. Of course you would do it in one trip. He shakes his head, remembering that you never like to take more than one trip from the car to the house. Your logic always being, as you told him, I am a single girl, I can do it in one go. He watched as you held the screen door open with your butt, as you switched all the bags to one arm so you could open the door with the other. Looking away once you're inside, Dean notices it’s about 20 minutes since you pulled in the driveway. Had you been sitting there this whole time? You have only gone to the hospital and store, but still your energy must not be back to what it used to be. 

Maybe he should check, make sure you're doing okay. Look in the window really quick. Getting out of the car and walking the short distance, he looks over to your car to see that you still had some toilet paper and paper towels in the back seat. Knowing that you would be back, he decides to help you out. Opening up the door as quietly as possible he grabs the items, and takes them up to the door. Putting them in between the screen door and main door, he turns around to leave.

His eyes look in the kitchen window, to see you putting away your items. Your back is to him, so you don’t notice. You seem lost in your own world, on auto pilot putting things away. Dean takes a moment to appreciate that he can see you up close. His eyes scan the room, noticing the post-it notes all over. He never remembers you having so many of them before. He can’t read what they say, but they are everywhere; on the cabinets, counter tops, table, Was your memory getting worse? 

Panic, and anger - at himself more than anything -  sets in.

*******

Y/N POV

“I love her Sam, I am in love with her…I can’t…no I won’t lose her, I need to tell her how I feel…”

“You don’t love me, Winchester” your voice stops Dean from rambling on the lies that you know, in the end, he doesn’t mean.

Dean turns to see you standing there, your eyes red from crying. But you're not crying now; no, now you  look  pissed, like you want to kick some ass - and Dean’s is the closest one. “Got to go Sam.” Dean quickly says, ending the call. “What do you mean I don’t love you. Of course I do, I….”

You hold up a hand, and stop Dean from saying anything more. “No, you don’t. People like me, we don’t have sexy knights to save us. To fall in love with us, to whisk us away, and want to play house with.” Determine to get this all out, to get your point across and make him accept reality. 

“We are your best friend, the girl you call on Friday nights when your date falls through, or you strike out with the bartender. We are your ‘wing woman’, we pick you up, dust you off, and send you back out into the world. We build your confidence up, while we sit on the sidelines alone.”

“Y/N that's not true…” Dean starts to protest.

“Let me finish, I have to get this out.” taking a breath, you can see he’s hurt, that he wants to argue, to explain his side. “Yes, you care for me, but you don’t love me, and you're not In love with me. You're in love with this idea of a life outside of hunting, you love the idea of playing house.” Closing the gap between you, even though you know better than to get  this close to him. You're playing with fire, but you're desperate to feel him. 

“You're right, I am in love with the idea of an apple pie life. But I want that life with you, no one else.” Dean interjects before you can shut him down, shut down what is going on between you two before it can even start. 

Taking a chance, he grabs your hand and brings it up to his chest and places it over his heart. “Can’t you feel my heart? It’s racing for you. It always has, it always will.”

 Feeling the softness of the white t-shirt between your fingers, you take a breath and inhale the smell of him. “Sooner or later we both know this won’t be enough, that I won’t be enough.” You talk to his chest, not wanting or able to look him in the eye, your voice low and shaky. “You're going to leave me, sideline me, and only blow through town when you need something.”

“That's not true! You have always wanted your own life. I always wanted to protect you as much as I could. The things that Sam and I deal with, the people and monsters we hunt, if anything ever happens…you are a vulnerability that they will exploit. I know it.” 

“Maybe. Even more reason why you have to go���and never come back…” Glancing up to see the gut punch you just delivered written on his face. You try to take a step back.

Dean won’t let you go, bringing a hand around your waist, holding you. “What?! No! I won’t cut you out of my life. I now know I was stupid for ever doing that. For letting you live alone, or at the very least, not in the same state as the bunker.” He practically commands, with no hesitation. How could you think he would ever agree to this?   

“Y/N, I need you in my life. You can’t deny that there is something between us.” His words are sweet, his voice is low as he leans into you. His breath fans over your face, as his hands caress your cheek. “Please, I need you.” 

His lips are so close to yours, that if you lean ever so slightly, you would finally know how soft his lips are. Would they fulfill your fantasies? God, maybe you should live in this fantasy for as long as you can, screw being logical. Let it be a future Y/N problem, present Y/N wants to know what it's like to be wanted by Dean Winchester. “I…Dean…”

*******

 Y/N and Dean POV 

“Dean, what are you doing here?” Your voice pulls him from the memory of that night, and he looks to see you standing at the door, one hand holding open the screen door. 

Oh fuck, well, this wasn’t the plan at all. Giving her a smile, “Hey Y/N, I was in the neighborhood…thought I would…”

“So you're stalking me now?”

“Hehe, no, I said I was in the neighborhood, wanted to see how you are…you look good.” He says, letting his eyes look at you. You did look good, but tired, your eyes didn’t shine like they normally did before; the spark, the hint of twinkle is gone.

“Liar, I look like shit, but thanks.” You quip, knowing that you don’t look good at all. Wearing a ratty hoodie and jeans, you opted for comfort over trying to impress anyone. “Well, thanks for stopping by.” You say, giving him a fake smile and turning to walk back in the house. 

“Umm…Y/N, I could, I mean Sam could use your help with something, he knew I was going to be passing through and wanted me to stop by and ask for some help.” Quickly thinking on his feet, he creates an excuse. He didn’t want to leave yet, this is the most he has talked to you since that night. He would be damned if he was going to let you leave so soon. 

You turn back to look at Dean, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth or not. Sam had your number, and you were still speaking to the younger Winchester - he didn’t break your heart and live up to everything you knew would happen. “Why didn’t he call me?” You question, wanting to make Dean work for it. He wasn’t getting in that easy!

He takes a few steps towards you, “well, like I said, he knew I was in the area.” One step lower from you, his green eyes lock with yours, silently pleading with you to let him in. “He wanted me to pick up a lore book on Pixies, and said you had a copy that we don't have in the library.”

“Fine, come in. I will go grab it.” You reply, turning away from him, letting him catch the door before it slams in his face. 

Dean shucks off his jacket and boots, and looks around while you go back to find the book. He can now see the post-its in detail, reminding you where your keys, jacket, bag should be put. Making his way to the kitchen, cabinets are labeled with what should be in them: dry food, dishes, silverware. Daily schedule on the fridge. “Having fun snooping?” Your sarcastic tone has him turning on his heels to see you standing in the doorway with a book in hand. 

“Umm…sorry…” he says sheepishly, hating  that he got caught. He can see you're not amused, and he is really going to have to lay on the charm to win you back. 

“Yeah, well at least I am keeping the post-it company in business. Here is the book.” You say handing it to him.

Dean takes it, and looks at it, giving it a nod, “Thanks, yep this is it.” 

“Okay, well, you better get going, since Sam is in ‘desperate’ need of it and all.” Your voice is flat, not in the mood to deal with him. “You know where the door is.” You add, just turning that knife even deeper. 

“Look, Y/N can we talk?” Dean can tell you're not your usual self, and he really wants to get you back.

“Oh now you want to talk? You sure as hell didn’t want to talk for four months. Didn’t want to talk when you woke up the next morning regretting that kiss, regretting what we said to each other, the promises you made.” You snap at him, the frustration building in you. Why does it always have to be on his time? God you were just getting over him, right?

“I know. I was a jerk, it was a dick move, and I am sorry.”

“You're sorry, really?That's all you have to say?” Turning away from him, just looking at him and his sad puppy dog face, you want to smack him. Fuck, you want to hit yourself for being an idiot that night. 

******

“Dean…please…I…” You have to keep strong, tell him to go, you know this won’t end well.

“Please Y/N, You're the only good thing I have in this world, I can’t lose you.” Not waiting for a reply, his lips find yours. 

They're soft, perfect, molded to fit yours, and gentle, Dean doesn’t force his way. Pulling away, when your lungs start to burn,you lock eyes with him. Lust blown, his lips slightly pink. No words are exchanged, you silently say everything you need to him at that moment, and he seems to understand. Bringing his hands to cup your face, he goes back in to kiss you more, letting his tongue swipe across your lips. You allow his tongue to dance with yours. 

Fumbling your way to the couch, Dean falls back first, and you do your best not to land on top of him completely, giggling at the state you're both in. Dean looks up at you, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, and looking up at you lovingly, “God, I love that laugh of yours.” He says, pulling you down on him. Letting you feel what you're doing to him. 

“Dean, I have to be crushing you.” You protest, trying your best but failing at getting out of the vice grip Dean has on your hips. 

“Nope, You're staying right here.” He says, as he starts to pepper kisses down your neck. 

******

“Dean, I begged you to leave! I knew you never wanted me! And yet like an idiot, I fell for your charm and under your spell.” You grit out, turning on your heels and walking away from him. Fuck, you can’t keep doing this! 

“I did ... .I do ...Y/N look at me” Dean pleads, setting the book down he follows you to the living room, grabbing your hand. “Please, let me explain.”

Turning around, you pull your hand back. His touch, like fire, like touching a hot pan. “You know, I thought for a split second you were telling me the truth. That you wanted me like I have always wanted you.” Pain radiates through you, your voice seems to be stuck behind a lump forming in your throat. God, you want to smack him, but at the same time, kiss him.

Dean’s speechless, trying to work out how best to tell you what he was thinking in that split second when he woke up in your arms that day. For one second he felt total bliss, that everything was falling into place; then reality of his life came back into focus.

“I know, it wasn’t my finest hour.”

You laugh at this, you think!? “What is there to explain? We kissed, had a pretty good makeout, groped each other over and under our clothes, but then we both agreed to take it slow. Right?” You ask for confirmation, even though you remember it all too well.

“Yes, but, Y/N, if you just let me…” Dean stumbles to explain.

“But then, I wake up the next morning alone on the couch with a note that says, ‘Hey, Y/N, Sorry, Sammy needs me, will check in soon.’”

The space between you two is nonexistent. You're trying to find anything in those green eyes of his that will refute anything you just said. Anything to explain that you're overreacting, but there is nothing. He has no rebuttal, because it's all true. He walked out on you, like his father did to him and Sam all the time. The worst part was, Dean had Sam to lean on; you were left with no one.

“Like I said, not my finest hour…” he mumbles out.

“Not your goddamn finest hour?ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!” you yell, slamming your fists into his chest and pushing him away.  It does nothing to move him, and takes all your energy out of you. You stumble a bit, then lean back and sit on the arm of the couch.

“Hey, Y/N, please, calm down.'' His voice is heavy with concern, and he tries to help you up so you can sit on the couch.

“Don’t…touch…me…” You cough out. Needing water, you look to find your water bottle is nowhere. “Fuck….I…” You keep coughing, and try to get up.

“Water?” Dean questions. You nod, and try to get back up. “No, sit, I will go get it.” He tells you and quickly goes to the kitchen, and is back with a glass of water in seconds.

You down about half, the cool water helps calm you and your coughing fits. “Thanks” you mumble, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he ‘saved you again.’ You don’t look at him as you sit down the glass and avoid him at all costs.

Dean takes this as his opportunity to tell you his side. Sitting on the coffee table so he has direct eye contact with you, he reaches for your hand. “Please, Y/N, I am truly sorry. I know I was a jerk for leaving you like that, and for never calling or coming back.”

You stare him down, not  giving him an out on this one. “Go on. You will hear no objection from me on this one.” You reply.

Dean lets out a small sigh that clearly said fuck, alright here we go. “I was fucking scared, okay? I woke up, saw you in my arms, and for a split second I felt like I was home. My first thought was, this is perfection. No monster, no running the roads, crappy dinner food, and sketchy motels.” 

He leans towards you, putting a hand on your knee, and lightly runs his hands up and gives you a knowing smile. “The perfect, sexy, beautiful, girl in my arms, that I can’t wait to wake up and…”

You stop his hand from getting too close to what both you and him want to touch. “Not so fast  Winchester.” Knowing if he keeps going, you are definitely going to end up in a very compromising position. “No, I bet your first thought was, oh fuck what the hell did I do, and how the hell do I get out of it.”

“No, will you let me talk?. God, I see COVID can take your memory, but not your self-hatred or inability to butt in.” 

You hold your hands up in a fake defense, “Please go on.” You quip back, leaning back into the couch. 

Dean shakes his head, at least you’re sassing back, that is a good sign. “I got up, was going to start coffee for us, and while I was in the kitchen, Sam did call…

*******

“Hey Sammy,”

“How’s everything Dean, you kinda left me hanging? Did you and Y/N talk?” Sam asks, feeling like a schoolgirl catching up on the latest gossip between you too.

Dean takes a quick peek into the living room to make sure you're still asleep. “Yeah, everything is good. We talked and I think we are going to take things slow.” Dean explains, as he starts to make the coffee, he recounts most of the conversation between you two. Not all the details though, he wants to keep the really good stuff just for him. 

Sam lets out a sigh, “That's good, I am happy for you both. But now I hate to ask.”

“What is it?”

“Look, I know you still want to take some time, until Y/N is fully healed, but Jody could really use your help. There is something in South Dakota that is running amuck, and she’s worried that Claire is going to try and tackle it herself.”

Oh Claire, how she reminds Dean of himself sometimes, headstrong and just ready to fight anything that wasn’t human. She is a good hunter, but she is young. “Umm…yeah…I am sure I can make something work….”

“Thanks Dean, I am sure it will only be a day or two, and then you can get back to Y/N. I will call Jody and tell her to expect you.” Sam says.

Saying their goodbyes, Dean hangs up the phone, and has to hold back from throwing it across the room in anger. Fuck! Not two seconds, and he’s already been pulled back into the madness. How is he going to explain this to her? She won’t believe him, she will be heartbroken again, think it's her fault, and say that she told him. 

Seeing no other solution - or maybe it was that he didn’t want to wake you and see that pain in your eyes - he takes the cowardly way out. 

*****

“So you went to help Jody, a friend of mine. And didn’t think I would understand?” You question him, after he explains the conversation between him and Sam. 

“Yes…I guess I figure you would just see it as an excuse I came up with to leave you. Which it wasn’t, by the way.”

“But you said you would call, check in. But you didn’t! You couldn’t have been helping Jody this whole time? And even if you were, could you still have called!”

“I wanted to, but as I was driving away, I kept thinking about what you said, that you felt like an afterthought, that I blow through town whenever I need you. Take what I need and leave you with nothing.”

“So you figure, prove me right by ghosting me? Well, thanks Winchester, real fun.” You spit sarcastically, giving his knee a not-so-playful slap and getting up from the couch. “The door is still where you left it, you can see yourself out.” Fucking asshole. I need to get those locks changed tomorrow. You think, making your way to the kitchen to get some more water, to do anything but sit there and keep listening to him.

“Y/N, please. I am sorry, you're not an afterthought. The more that I kept driving, and the longer I pushed off calling you, it made it harder to call you. Because I knew as soon as I did I would lose you.”

“Funny, because the second you left, you lost me Dean. God, I woke up that morning and was devastated. Do you know how much I hate feeling like that?” Not needing him to answer, you lean up against the counter crossing your arms around yourself. Feeling the tears start to fall, you might as well go all the way. 

“You know, I never wanted to be that girl, who cried over a guy, who refused to do anything but sleep on that goddamn couch for two months because it was the last place I felt safe, and whole, and seen. I could still smell you on the pillows and blanket.” 

Taking a breath, you run your hands over your face. Taking another ragged breath, you work up the courage to tell him what you know he should know, but that you're scared to say out loud. “But the thing I hate the most, the one thing that makes me want to scream…is that I still love you.” You laugh at this. Its fucking absurd. Trying your best  to stifle your laughter, but it keeps bubbling out of you in frustration and disbelief 

Dean’s not sure how to react. On the one hand, you say that you still love him, but on the other hand your laughing like the fucking Joker. “Being in love with me is…funny?” he tentatively asks. Taking a few steps towards you, but not closing the distance. 

Wiping the tears from your face, you admit quietly, “yes, because I know, no matter what, I will always let you back in. I guess I am just a masochist that way. I would rather have you in my life, and be heartbroken, than to not have you and still be heartbroken.”

Shaking your head, in disbelief that you actually said those words out loud, and to Dean no less. You look up to see him watching you, waiting. “God I am pathetic…you really should not have saved me that night…” you mumble the last part to yourself. Pushing yourself off the counter, you turn away from him, to straighten up the non-existent mess on the counter. Shit, should not have said that. 

“GOD DAMN IT Y/N!” Dean’s yell booms, causing you to turn around to see Dean seething with rage.    Taking the last few steps towards you, he pulls you into a vice grip of a hold. “Don’t you ever say that again, do you hear me? Do you?” He commands, shaking with hurt and pain. 

He’s not angry at you, he's angry that you don’t understand how much you mean to him. That you hold your life as something subpar. Pulling away slightly, he lets go so he can hold your face in his hands. “Please don’t ever think or say that I shouldn’t have saved you that night.” His green eyes, glassy with tears about to be shed, bore into yours. “You are the only good thing in my life, and I know I have a lot of work to do to gain your trust back, and that my life is messy and chaotic, but please…please….don’t ever think I would regret saving you that night.”

You nod your head in response. “Okay” you whisper, “I promise.” You were taken aback by his outburst; Dean has never raised his voice to you, or looked this broken. Then again, you’ve never been this broken, or joked about that night before either. It was a topic that neither of you ever really discussed, more of an unspoken bond between you two.

Relief seems to wash over him. His hands fall from your face, his arms wrapping them around your waist, not wanting to leave the closeness of you. “I know I have a lot of work to do, and this may be pushing my luck. But can I kiss you?” Giving you a half smile, hoping that will seal the deal.

“Fuck, there’s that Winchester charm,” you joke, smirking as well. Screw it, it's been four months without those lips. You lean in and kiss him. Letting your lips dance with his for a bit, you pull back, “just as good and I remember.” you say cheekily.

“So, should we go make some new memories on that couch of yours?” Dean gives you a wink, walking backwards towards the living room, his arms still around yours.

You have no choice but to follow him, nodding. You know that you have a lot of work to do getting over your own insecurities and self doubt that Dean will get tired of you, or that he will regret being with you. You need to have faith in him, and in yourself, that you are worthy of a happy life with him; whatever that looks like.

[cheynovak]

Whiskey, Cards, and Secrets

Dean Winchester x Y/N female character

Summary: Dean dares his best friend Y/N to a game of strip poker, unknowingly pushing her insecurities.

Warning: Plussize reader, body insecurities

English isn't my first language.

Please do not copy my work. Share/Like/Comments are welcome.

The motel room was dimly lit, the flickering of the old TV casting faint shadows across the walls. The unmistakable clink of whiskey glasses filled the quiet space as Y/N and Dean sat at the table, a deck of cards between them. It was one of those rare quiet nights where the world wasn’t ending and there were no demons to hunt — just the two of them.

Y/N shuffled the cards while Dean poured another shot, his green eyes glinting mischievously in the low light. They’d been best friends for years, and in that time, she’d always kept her secret crush hidden behind friendly banter and teasing. It wasn’t easy, especially when she saw Dean with those women—skinny, confident, the kind of girls he always seemed to go for. And then there was her, plus-size and self-conscious about it.

“You gonna deal those or just sit there looking pretty, sweetheart?” Dean smirked, taking a slow sip from his glass.

She rolled her eyes, masking the warmth that his compliment stirred. “Yeah, yeah, I’m dealing, hold your horses, Winchester.”

They played a few rounds of poker, the stakes rising with each one. It was just fun, though—until Dean raised the stakes even higher.

"How ‘bout we make this more interesting?" he asked, his voice dropping just a little, that teasing grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

Y/N glanced at him over her cards, eyebrow raised. "Oh yeah? What’re you thinking?"

Dean leaned forward, elbows on the table, his gaze steady on hers. "Strip poker."

Her stomach flipped at the suggestion, heat rushing to her face. She tried to laugh it off, but the insecurity bubbled up quickly. "Dean, c’mon. You know I’m not—" She trailed off, her throat tightening. She could barely get the words out, the thought of undressing in front of him making her want to curl up and hide.

Dean’s smile faltered for a second, and he tilted his head, studying her. "What? Scared you’re gonna lose?"

She looked down at her cards, biting her lip. The truth was, it wasn’t the losing that scared her. It was Dean seeing her body, seeing all the parts of herself she’d spent years being insecure about. He’d never been into girls like her, and she’d seen him with more women than she cared to count. They were always so… small. Slim. Everything she wasn’t.

She let out a shaky breath, dropping her cards. "Dean, you know why. I don’t— I can’t… I’m not like those girls you date, or usually see without clothes." Her voice was barely a whisper.

Dean frowned, leaning back in his chair. He reached for the whiskey bottle, pouring another shot but not drinking it. "Y/N," he said slowly, the teasing tone gone from his voice, "what’re you talking about?"

"You know what I’m talking about, Dean," she said, her voice a little stronger now, though her heart was pounding in her chest. "You’ve never been into girls like me. I mean, look at me." She gestured down at herself, the insecurities she’d buried for so long spilling out in a rush. "I’m not skinny, I’m not—"

"Hey, stop," Dean interrupted, his voice firm. He put his glass down with a hard thud, and when he looked at her, his gaze was serious, intense. "You think I don’t notice you?"

She blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone.

"Y/N, you have no idea," he muttered, shaking his head, almost like he was mad at himself. "I’ve been trying to keep my damn head on straight around you for years. You think I date skinny girls because that’s what I want? Nah. That’s just me being an idiot, trying to make you jealous."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"Yeah," he huffed, running a hand through his hair, eyes locking with hers. "You drive me crazy, Y/N. Every time you walk around in those damn shorts…" His gaze dropped to her thighs, lingering there for a moment before flicking back to her face swallowing hard. "The way they hug your legs, the way your hips move when you dance. Hell, I don’t think you realize how many times I’ve had to stop myself from staring.

Y/N felt her face heat up, a deep blush spreading across her cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. She’d spent so long thinking she wasn’t his type, and now here he was, saying things that made her head spin.

"And your skin," he added, his voice dropping lower, more intimate. "I always wondered how soft it’d feel. Every time you brushed against me, it was like… I don’t know. I’m not good with this crap, but you’re more than just some friend, okay?"

"Fuck I... I try to find girls as far off from your looks because there is no way they are remotely close to your beauty... You have no idea how many times I wanted to run my hards over your curves, knead that perfect flesh."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart racing as she stared at him. "Dean… I—"

"I know you don’t like me that same way," he admitted, his voice rougher now, as if the words were being dragged out of him. "So yeah, I went for girls that didn’t mean anything, just to try and get you out of my head. But it never worked."

She swallowed hard, her emotions swirling between disbelief and the overwhelming warmth that came from hearing him finally say what she’d been wanting to hear for so long. "Dean, I’ve had a crush on you for years."

He let out a low, smirk "Yeah? Guess we’ve both been blind idiots then."He took another sip.

The tension in the room shifted, something electric crackling between them. Dean stood up slowly, walking around the table until he was standing right in front of her. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle but full of intent.

"I don’t care about those girls, Y/N. I want you. All of you. Every damn curve, every inch." His hand rested on her shoulder, then slid down her arm, his fingers trailing lightly over her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

She didn’t know what to say, her insecurities still there, but his words made them feel small, insignificant.

"I… I don’t know if I’m ready for—"

He stopped her, leaning down so their foreheads almost touched. "Hey, we don’t have to do anything tonight, alright? I just wanted you to know how I feel."

Y/N nodded, her heart still pounding, but the weight that had been sitting on her chest for so long was finally lifting. Dean wasn’t just teasing. He meant it.

And for the first time in a long time, she let herself believe that maybe she was exactly what he wanted.

--

Taglist: @kr804573 @nancymcl @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78 @whimsyfinny @kamisobsessed @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @ferrersbiggestfan @spxideyver @kamisobsessed @deans-queen @yvonneeeee @libby99hb

[whoawardwinchester]

A Winchester Chronicle (c3)

Please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging. It fuels the creativity and lets me know you're enjoying my hard work.

Summary: Chapter 3 delves deeper into the filming of "Supernatural" as Y/N grapples with developing Raven's character amid personal and professional challenges. Tensions escalate when Jensen confronts Y/N about her health scare, leading to a heartfelt confession and a pivotal decision. Meanwhile, Jared's romantic developments spark joy amidst the drama, setting the stage for unexpected changes in relationships and dynamics among the cast and crew. The chapter ends with Jensen's revelation and a lingering sense of anticipation for what lies ahead.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Content Warning: (subject to change per chapter as this series is written) Body insecurities, Smut, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, teasing, erotica reading. Readers are advised to proceed with caution due to these themes and scenes.

Rating: 18+ for the whole series.

This is a work of fiction. There is no hate for anyone in real life.

If you want to be added to the tag list for this series, just let me know! Also be sure to tell me how I'm doing or request anything related to Jensen/Dean!

Masterlist

Chapter 3: Based off of the episode "In the Beginning"

The sun rises on another intense day of filming, the air buzzing with anticipation as the crew prepares to dive into a pivotal episode of "Supernatural." You arrive on set, your mind still swirling with the events of the previous day. The tension with Jensen and the lingering effects of your medical incident weigh heavily on you, but you push it aside, determined to focus on your work and your character, Raven.

As the director gathers the cast and crew, he pulls you aside privately. "Y/N, are you still okay to keep shooting today?" he asks, his concern evident.

You nod, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'm good. Let's do this."

Unbeknownst to you, Jensen is trying to eavesdrop on the conversation, his curiosity piqued. He leans subtly against a wall, straining to hear your reply. Just as he catches a snippet, Misha sneaks up behind him and whispers, "Boo!"

Jensen jumps, knocking over the coffee bar in the process. Cups and stirrers clatter to the floor, causing a commotion.

"Sorry!" Jensen mutters, embarrassed but grinning as the crew chuckles and helps clean up the mess.

The first scene to film is Sam sneaking out of the motel room. You stand off to the side, watching Jared transform into Sam. The tension is palpable as he slips out the door, heading to meet Ruby once again.

You exchange a brief, tense glance with Jensen as he prepares for his next scene. You can see the concern in his eyes, but you quickly look away, focusing on your script.

Filming Dean's Time Travel Next is the scene where Castiel appears beside Dean's bed, ready to transport him back to 1973. Misha, in full angelic attire, exudes a calm yet commanding presence as Castiel.

"Action!" the director calls.

Misha places a hand on Jensen's shoulder. "You need to stop it," he intones, his voice resonating with celestial authority.

The scene shifts to Lawrence, Kansas, in 1973. You watch as Jensen expertly navigates the emotional terrain of meeting his parents' younger selves and his maternal grandparents. There's a depth to his performance that draws you in, making you momentarily forget the tension between you.

As Dean discovers the truth about Mary's desperate deal with Azazel, your character, Raven, is introduced in a pivotal moment. Raven is a mysterious figure who has been watching over the Winchester family line, aware of the supernatural deals and their consequences.

"Raven, what are you doing here?" Dean demands, his voice a mix of anger and confusion.

"I'm here to help you understand, Dean," you reply, your voice steady and enigmatic. You then stride across the room, your hips swaying with confidence. Jensen's eyes follow your movements, his concentration slipping as he gets distracted.

"Uh, you need to know there's more forces at work here than you can see," he blurts out, inadvertently mixing his line with yours. The set erupts in laughter at the unexpected blooper.

"Cut!" the director calls, chuckling. "Let's take it from the top."

Jensen shakes his head, embarrassed but smiling. "Sorry about that, Y/N. I… I…" He debates telling you how Raven's walk caught him off guard but settles on trying to ask how you are. "I wanted to see how you are doing?"

You give him a shrug. "Never better, Winchester. Thanks for the concern."

You were mad. Now, he wanted to ask you now? There had been plenty of time to ask you. Hell, he could have called you, texted you, pulled you aside in between takes, and he chose now in the middle of a scene to ask you how you are?! You were fuming. You finish the scene with no more mistakes and take a moment for yourself.

During a break, Misha approaches you, noticing the tension. "Hey, Y/N, are you okay? You seem a bit off today."

You glance at him, your expression a mix of frustration and sarcasm. "Oh, I'm just peachy, Misha. Why wouldn't I be?"

Misha raises an eyebrow, sensing your irritation but doesn't respond. Instead, he walks away, heading straight for Jensen.

"Misha, what's going on?" Jensen asks as Misha approaches.

"What's up with Y/N?" Misha inquires, his tone serious.

Jensen sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It's Dee. She wouldn't let me help Y/N after her medical incident. We argued, and now Y/N is avoiding me."

The set pulses with tension as the crew prepares for the episode's climactic scenes. You immerse yourself in Raven's character, channeling your frustrations into your performance. The scene where Raven confronts Dean and reveals crucial information about Azazel is intense, and you pour all your energy into it.

Jensen matches your intensity, and for a moment, the tension between you fuels a powerful dynamic on screen. But as soon as the director yells "Cut," the walls come back up, and you're left with your unresolved feelings.

After the day's shoot, you decide to offer to take everyone out to dinner. "Hey, how about we all grab some food together? My treat," you suggest, hoping to lighten the mood.

Jared smiles but shakes his head. "I appreciate it, Y/N, but I have plans with Gen tonight. We're going on a date."

Everyone is excited for him, and Jared gushes about how wonderful Gen is. Jensen makes a joke, "So, am I invited to dinner, too?"

You ignore him, focusing on the rest of the group. "Alright, everyone else, let's meet at the diner."

As the group heads out, Jensen approaches you. "Y/N, wait."

You snap, unable to hold back your frustration any longer. "You hurt my feelings and I feel like I can't trust you."

Jensen looks taken aback. "I just want to know what happened to you. Why did you pass out?"

"I can't tell you. You don't deserve to have that personal information, Jen." The way his nickname falls from your lips makes him catch his breath. He hadn't heard you call him that before, and it stirs something in him.

Jensen shifts uncomfortably, trying to hide his growing erection. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I really am. I just want to make things right."

You shake your head, the hurt still fresh. "It's not that simple, Jensen. Not anymore."

He watches you walk away, feeling a mix of regret and longing. He hesitates, then reaches out for your arm, gently but firmly pulling you back to face him. His voice goes to a low grumble as he whispers at you. "I cannot stay away from you, Y/N. I can't even begin to tell you how badly I wanted to stay by your side when you were unconscious. To hold you… to… I even called Jared to help you." You didn't take Jensen to be an emotional person, but tears were welling up in his eyes. You could feel the remorse.

You step forward and embrace him in a hug. "Jen… I didn't realize that you called Jared to come help me. I appreciate you so much." You hug him tightly, feeling his erection poking you in your lower stomach. You look down briefly at it, then back up at him.

"Jensen," you whisper, your voice softening. You look at him with concern. Disdain for Dee rising in your chest. You didn't want to hurt either of them, but you realized you're attracted to Jensen more than just a friendly face in your archive of make-shift family. You suddenly noticed his breath on your cheek, warm, with a lingering scent of a mint he just ate. His lips luscious and inviting. He was leaning closer to you, his green eyes fixated on your mouth, too. "We can't!" You say firmly, creating distance between the two of you.

"I know," he murmurs, shifting to conceal his still growing erection. "I know…" He repeated, lower.

You clear your throat and turn to walk away, but turn back again. "You're welcome to come eat, if you'd still like to." He contemplated your invitation. "Thanks. I'm just going to head home though. See you tomorrow."

Later, as you sit in the dim light of your trailer unwinding with a cup of chamomile tea, your phone buzzes with a message. It's from Jared: "Hope you're feeling better. We're all here for you. See you tomorrow." You smile faintly, touched by his kindness, and you text back, "Thank you. I am feeling much better, thanks to you and Misha. I hope your date went well! TTYL." But your thoughts quickly turn back to the unresolved tension with Jensen.

Suddenly, there's a knock on your trailer door. You open it to find Jensen standing there, looking tense and determined with sweat glistening off his body.

"Y/N, can we talk?" he asks, his voice strained trying to catch his breath.

You step aside, letting him in. He paces for a moment before turning to face you. "I just broke up with Dee," he says, his voice heavy with emotion.

Your heart skips a beat. "Wait. Jen, I never wanted this to happen. I had my family. I…" You just about spilled all of your grief in a pile of word vomit at him. To this man, whom you really do barely know, because he just broke up with his girlfriend? You felt crazy. "Jensen, please tell me this is a joke. That you just wanted to prank me." You settled on.

He shakes his head, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of sadness and resolve. "It's not fair to her, or to you, to keep pretending everything's okay. I can't stop thinking about you, Y/N. I need to figure out what that means."

The weight of the situation hangs in the air as you both process what it means. "Did you say you HAD a family?" Jensen asks realizing what you had said. "N…No. I mean, yeah, but…" You stuttered. "Are you married?" He asked closing the small space between you, looking at you with worry and lust. You felt your panties dampen as he inched closer and closer. "I… was. Yes." You said holding up a hand to his chest to keep him away. His heart beating irregularly under your small appendage. You could smell his sweat mixed with cologne and it set your senses tingling. He was still breathing heavy, as you looked him up and down trying to figure out if he was still trying to catch his breath from running here or because of you. "Explain." He demanded in a Dean Winchester voice that made you shrink a little under his gaze. "Jensen… I can't do this. I can't be more than your friend. I was married, yes. My…" You looked down in a moment of guilt as you remembered your sweet husband. "My husband passed early last year and I'm just not…" Don't you dare tell him you aren't ready. Y/N, get your head straight. "You need to get back together with Dee…" You quickly tried to finish your explanation. He cut in, his voice low and fierce. "DON'T YOU SAY HER NAME." He grabbed your hand and removed it from his chest and pinned it above your head on the door frame. You moaned involuntarily as you both made a thunk on the trailer.

His voice was softer now. "You WERE married, and I'm so sorry for your loss. You have nothing to be guilty of, though. This…" he grabbed your other hand and pinned it, too. You didn't even fight it. "Is a normal feeling." He hovered his face above yours as you looked up at him deeply in his eyes. "Jensen" you said softly. "Say it again, princess." You melted. Your juices were flowing, and the butterflies were in full force now. He noticed. "You like that, don't you?" He whispered as he brushed your neck softly with his nose. "Princess." A moan escaped your mouth as you turned to face him buried in your neck now. "Jensen…" "I bet you smell just as sweet… down… here." he teased as he released one of your hands to caress your body, slowly moving toward your dampness. He grabbed you firmly. "Damn, you're ready, aren't you?" He smirked feeling the fluids through your lounge pants. He didn't give you time to answer. He flipped you around to face the door and he ran his hands over your curves. "You are perfect. You know that?" He exclaimed through gritted teeth. One hand rested on your ass before he gave it a swift smack. "MMMMM." you moaned. "Fuck…" he whispered throwing his head back. He pressed his dick to your ass through his jeans. You could feel the length of him throbbing through the fabric. You turned to face him, and you sank to your knees. He gathered up your long hair into a fist and pulled it slightly. "If you do this, you're mine. You know that, right? If you do this… YOU. ARE. MINE. Y/N." His eyes were dark with need now. Glaring into your face. "Yes, Jen." You barely got out as you hastily undid his belt, buttons, and slid his pants down. You were not hesitating now. You grasped his penis in both hands and circled the tip with your tongue. "Deeper." He urged you with his hand still tangled in your hair, firmly pushing your mouth closer to him. You take him as far in as you can slowly. You gag. "You've got it, princess." You moan and gag at the same time. "Take it all" he gently demands as he continues to guide his dick down your throat. You touch your lips to the base of his cock and slide him out and in, finally past your reflex. He moans as he throws his head back again, "yes Y/N, Fuuuuck." He looks back down at you. Your face is red, hair's a mess, spit slipping out of the sides of your mouth. He slowly pulls your hair back to slide himself out of your mouth. "Come here." He stands you up and spins until your back to facing your bed. He picks you up and grabs your voluptuous ass as you wrap your legs around his sturdy torso. You grab his face with both hands as he walks you back to your bed. You kiss him and not in a soft 'checking for chemistry' kiss. Your tongue explores every crevice of his mouth and his does the same to yours. He doesn't ease up on the kisses as he lays you down on your back, crawling on top of you in the process. He supports himself with one arm as he starts to take off your pants. His hand eases down your curvy belly and slips your panties and pants down your legs with ease. He walks his fingers up your legs barely touching your skin, giving you goosebumps. He almost gets close to your fupa, again, and you react.

"Jen. STOP." You gasp as you sit up and hurry to cover your lower body before he takes a good look at it. "I'm not ready." You say sheepishly tucking some hair behind your ear avoiding his gaze. You're about to cry.

"What is it? Did I do something?" He asked, his tone soft and caring now. Nothing like his lusty one a few seconds ago. You look at him as he takes your chin in his hand and turns your face toward him. "You deserve someone small like Dee, Jensen. You… trust me… You don't want all of this." you motion toward the parts of your body you're most insecure about. "What?" He sits straight up, looking at you shocked. "Jensen, I just mean…" you aren't sure how to get words out as the heat of the moment was still whirling in your mind. "Don't. Look at me. Y/N, look, at me." He coaxed as he scooted closer to you. "I don't want anyone else, but you, right here." He started saying as he wrapped his arms around you. You look at him. He seemed so sincere and loving. His rugged face inches from yours, as he lowered his tone more. "Y/N, I don't know what your insecurities are, but I want to be the one who makes them feel loved. YOU deserve this." He kisses your shoulder. "And this." He moves to your collarbone. "And this." He moves to your breasts, nipping at your hardened nipples through your shirt. You flinch a little, locking eyes with him. He faces you again. "I'll stop, right now, if you can give me one good reason that you don't deserve all of this," he stands next to the bed, fully naked now, wiggling his hips. "…that doesn't consist of a single bad thing said about your body." You giggle at the sight of him, but also sigh. A few tears fall from your eyes, and you wipe them away. You face him as he sits back down next to you, resting a hand on your thigh. "Jensen, what if we're moving too fast?" you said, disregarding his last statement altogether. "Hey, missy, don't change the subject." He smirked. "No, seriously though, do you feel like we are? I'll go home, now with no hard feelings about it, if so." He stated, half preparing to pull his clothes back on.

"I…it didn't feel like it." You said softly, tucking hair back behind your ear again. "I love it when you do that, and you look at me. It's so sexy." He said taking in the moment. "And if you don't feel like we are moving too fast, then let me show you the love you deserve." He said softly as he guided to lay back on the bed, slowly removing the covers from your body. You watched him, half intrigued and completely turned on by his tenderness. He scooted down your body to position his head just above your tummy while looking at you. "This," He kissed you softly. "Is beautiful." He noticed your c-section scar. He gently traced it with a finger. "This is beautiful." He kissed it, too. He gently moved his hands down to your thighs, placing his hand on the inner parts and separated them. "These, are gorgeous." He swooned as he trailed kisses along your inner thighs. You wiggled at his gentle advances, feeling tingles shoot through your body. He crawled back up to face level and hovered for a moment. "All of you is beautiful beyond measure. Especially what's in here" and he kissed your forehead. "Be kinder to it."

You couldn't take it anymore. You grabbed his face and pulled him closer, kissing him sloppily. You didn't care, let it be messy, let it feel wrong, but also let it feel so so right. Jensen pulled you out of your shirt in between kisses and then watched as your breasts were exposed. You covered them out of habit, and he looked at you and moved your hand away to replace them with his. He suckled your nipple, rolling it under his tongue. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter again. You grabbed his hair and pulled slightly, making him moan in pleasure. He came back up to your lips and kissed you again, sliding his body in between your legs. You could feel his penis outside of your opening, pulsating. You thrusted your hips to move against him. "I need you now, Jen." you moaned in his ear. "Say it again, baby." He returned.

"Jensen, I WANT you now." You changed. He wasted no time, as soon as you said it, he placed his tip at your slit and slid all the way in. You gasped. "Oh!" clutching at his hair in both hands, holding his head to yours. You looked at him, pleasure placed on both of your faces. "Shit. You're so tight!" he moaned as he grappled with thrusting into your cunt. You moaned over and over again, moving in rythm with each other. His grunts matching yours as you both climb with sensation. He moves your legs so your hips change angle slightly and you hit the high. "Jensen. Jensen. JENSEN!" You screamed, clawing at his chest now, writhing in your climax as he pumped into you faster and faster. He held your thighs firmly as he watched you come. "Fuck!" he exclaimed and he jerked shallowly into you as he filled your womb with his seed. He folded over you, shaking.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him as he slowly pulled out of you, both of your juices dripping from your pussy. He collapses next to you and pulls you to his chest. You both slow your breathing, as the euphoria of the night eased your muscles.

Your eyes became heavy, and you heard "Goodnight, beautiful", with Jensen's hands stroking your hair as you fell asleep to the calming rhythm of his heartbeat.

[zepskies]

So I'm reading your Midnight Espresso fic even tho I've never seen supernatural because I love your Soldier Boy series, plus size latina reader, that's me!! And then the "shouldn't you know about latin american myths" made me roll my eyes, like I am centroamericana y no sabía, because I've only grown up around caribbeans and my only non carribean friends are mexican (and they're still puertorican) and argentine, like so many gringos really think we are a monolith, like when I visited El Salvador recently my family would look at me in shock when I used Carribean slang that is accidentally a bad word, and I think a lot about the time my abuela got in trouble for using the Spanish word for pest (which is also a lovingly used word by salvadoreans for kids) y las viejitas carribeñas were so offended because this word means "penis" in carribean spanish, to the point where for my colombian sister it's just the word for pest but she doesn't use it because she has the carribean connotation for it, whereas my mom and abuelita called me this word when I was little, so like I don't swear in spanish because of an intergenerational family curse that caused a lot of trauma and the only way to combat it was propriety, but it's the only "swear" word I will say while I'm singing along to bad bunny

Anyways this is super off point, and I don't know how I got to this point (the long story telling in many stages is a salvadorean gene like the way uncle colm from Derry Girls tells stories), but I love your writing, and found the "I'm cuban, not guatemalan" line to be funny because yeah while speaking spanish with different people I gotta take off my "proxy carribean" hat or my "centroamericana" hat

Hola, mi amor!! 😘

First of all, thank you for reading "Midnight Espresso"! That one is very special to me, being a plus-sized Latina myself. 🌶️💅🏽

I'm also working on a Part 2 to that fic, tentatively titled "Shall We Dance." 😉

But getting into your actual comments below:

It's pretty hilarious how often I've gotten asked if I'm [insert brown ethnicity here]. Believe me, it's run the gambit. I guess I look racially ambiguous. 💁🏽‍♀️

But yes, a lot of people assume every Hispanic/Latino culture knows everything about the other, which is why I chose to make this reader Cuban (like myself). I couldn't accurately tell your Salvadorean experience, for example. Like of course, I can research a culture to write a character, but it wouldn't feel as natural or authentic for me to write as I did writing from my own multicultural experience.

So Dean's line:

“Shouldn’t you be an expert on this already?” Dean teases as you rifle through the pages. “I thought Latin American legends were right up your alley.”

It's tongue-in-cheek, but you're right, it's pointing to a larger issue about how most Americans view Hispanics/Latinos as a whole. 😂

And omg I could tell so many stories about me or my fam/friends getting in trouble with words other Spanish-speaking cultures don't use, or it has an entirely different meaning lmao.

For example, my Cuban ass was talking to my Dominican friend (I'm Dominican as well, but I tend to speak more like a Cuban). Cubans tend to "eat their 's'" on the ends of words. So I said something like, "aw, damn, I'm really liking the look of those tostones." Which of course, is just a fried plátano.

What her Dominican ass heard was "totones." Which for the English speakers in the room, is a woman's pussy. (Or translated more literally, multiple pussies.) 😂

I'm so sorry you've been scarred from cursing in Spanish, because it really can be so colorful and inventive. 😂😂

But I freakin' love Derry Girls!!! And I'm so glad you enjoy my writing, amor. Thanks so much! 😘❤️❤️

[latenightdaydreams]

Tutor (fem)

Loser!König x Bully!Reader

MDNI🔞

Part 2 Part 3

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, bully, oral, p in v, virginity loss

2.3k word count

📖

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König is a loser. He’s a 23-year-old virgin college student who is too scared to talk to women. He would much rather stay home and build Gundam’s, play video games, or work on his schoolwork. In public, he is quiet and timid. He tries to blend in to not be seen. Being a whole 6 '10, he can’t. As a child, he was constantly bullied for his size and being chubby. As an adult, he still gets picked on for being tall and awkward.

You are a part of the problem. A short, curvy, big-breasted bitch; the apple of his eye. König sits in the back of class and watches your hips sway as you walk to your seat. The way your breasts bounce like hentai boobies. His cock grows hard as you bend over, making your cleavage more visible to him. Just as he got lost in a trance, you snap him out of it.

“What are you looking at? Freak!”

Your hands on your hips, a disgusted look on your face. König’s face turns red as he realizes that you’ve caught him in the act. You flip him off and turn to sit. He reaches down to adjust his boner, taking a deep breath and letting out a small sigh.

After class, as everyone stands to pack their bags, he stays seated, looking at his cell phone. He has your Instagram profile opened on his phone, gazing at a bikini picture you posted this summer. You look absolutely perfect in your tiny pink bikini. He has become so lost in your photos; he didn’t realize you were walking past him to leave.

“What the fuck?” A loud laugh breaks out.

König looks up to see that you caught him looking at your profile. He turns off the screen of his phone and clears his throat. Inside his chest, his heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s going to explode from embracement.

“Sorry.” His voice is meek as he avoids eye contact with you.

“Fucking loser.” You scoff while walking away.

This was going to be a long year.

Three months into the school year, you haven’t turned in one assignment yet and have failed the few tests you’ve had. The dean sent you a message telling you that if you don’t raise your grades, you would be at risk of being put on academic probation. You needed a tutor, and fast.

König sits in his dorm room at his desk, working on building Lego set #21348, when he hears a knock at his door. He looks over his shoulder at his door, trying to decide if he wants to deal with people. After a few seconds, he stands to answer the door.

Once he opens the door, his eyes grow wide seeing you standing there. “Oh, h-hey y/n.”

“Hey König.” You smile up at him and push him aside, walking into his room. His room is simple and neat. Robot figures anywhere he can place them and a Lego set on his desk. You walk over and look at the set, König walking up behind you.

“So, what is this? Star Wars?”

König tilts his head confused about how wrong you are. Do you even know what Star Wars is? “Uh, no. Star Wars is a space themed futuristic story…” He could see the lack of interest on your face. “So, why are you here?”

“Geez, you’re a bigger fucking nerd than I thought you were.” You say pushing over a mini figure he has posed on the desk. His mouth hangs open, stopping himself from asking you to not do that. He watches as you turn and take a seat on his desk chair.

You look up at König as he towers over you. “You’re smart, right?”

“I guess.” König rubs the back of his neck feeling bashful.

“Well, I’m failing math, and I need a tutor. The issue is… well, I can’t afford one. So I was wondering if you could tutor me.”

This isn’t what he was expecting, well more of not what he hoped for. “I don’t have time to tutor. Sorry.”

Your smile drops and you stand up. “Too busy? You’re always in here building stupid fucking Legos or robot’s models.”

“Technically Gundam’s are mechs, not robots like a transformer.”

“Wow. Okay.” You sound annoyed and uninterested. “So, are you going to help me or not?”

“I already said I can’t.” His voice gets even more timid.

You’re not use to people saying no to you, especially not pathetic men who worship the ground you walk on. In fact, you hate being told no. How fucking dare he.

“So, you can sit and fucking gawk at me, stalk my social media accounts, but you can’t help me for a few fucking hours?” You push his muscular chest.

He stumbles backwards, actually intimidated by you. Speechless, he doesn’t know what to say. His eyes drop to your breasts as you keep walking to him. Not one thought in his mind other than how hot you look at this exact moment.

“I- I uh, I.”

“What? You forgot how to talk?” You push him once more and he falls back on to his bed. As soon as he does, your eyes drift down to the tent growing in his pants and you laugh. König’s eyes go wide as your hand reaches out, grasping his boner through his sweats; his face burning hot. He looks up at you in a daze.

“Oh, wow. Loser actually has a fat cock.” Your other hand grabs his jaw and forces him to look into your eyes. You lean in and lick from his lips to his nose before moving back and letting go of him.

König’s heart is fluttering in his chest, this feels like a dream. His eyes watch like a hungry dog as you pull your tight fitted shirt, unhooking your bra and tossing it aside. Your hands unbutton your jeans and expose a thin thong that barely covers your fat pussy lips.

“Why are you still dressed?” Your voice shocks him out of his daze.

Quickly, he pulls his shirt off. A ripped muscular body is not what you expected him to have under his baggy clothing. He drops his sweat pants along with his boxers allowing his cock to spring free. König, now nude, stands in front of you frozen. His gaze lingering on your pussy. You’re the first woman he’s seen naked in person.

“Do you have condoms?”

He looks at his bedside table, even though he is well aware he has none. “Um, no. I don’t.”

“I knew you were probably a virgin.” He blushes and looks down when you say this. You walk closer to him. “Are you?”

“Ja, I am.”

“No fucking wonder. Lay down.” You demand in a strict tone.

König jumps like a drill sergeant to yell at him. He quickly gets on his bed and looks at you. His cock twitching with excitement. You climb onto the bed with him, straddling his massive body. His hands instinctively rest on your thighs as you lean in and kiss his lips.

“How about I teach you—” You kiss him in between talking. “How to fuck—” His fingers squeeze your thighs. “And you tutor me?”

Without thinking, König nods his head enthusiastically.

“Good. We will start with math.” You giggle, reaching your hand behind his head to pull the pillows away from behind him.

König looks confused by your comment. Math? Then his eyes go wide as you straddle his face. Your twat lingers above him. He gazes up as if you’ve just shown him God. If he could take your scent and make air fresheners, he would. His cock is upright, erect, waiting to taste you.

“Stick your tongue out, big boy.” You lean forward and place your hands on his chest. One hand reaches forward and jerks his cock.

König sticks his tongue out eagerly, watching your body as you lower yourself onto his face. Your pussy rests on his mouth and nose, hips rocking back and forth on his tongue. His eyes flutter closed as he tastes pussy for the first time. How could he have lived this long without tasting this sweet nectar?

His fingers dig into your thighs as he pulls you down closer to his face. His tongue rapidly laps at your cunt, slurping and drinking your wetness. You moan, eyes closing as you continue to grind; he’s surprisingly skilled.

“You want me to suck your cock?”

“Ja, bitte.” He groans, his sound muffled from you sitting on his face.

Leaning forward, you pull his foreskin down and wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. He lets out a moan, his toes curling. Your hands move in motion with your head as you bob your head up and down on his cock. König moans into your sopping wet cunt. He’s in heaven.

König’s hips thrust forward to match your rhythm. One of his hands moves from your thigh up your body to squeeze your breast before roaming back down. When you pull your mouth away from his cock, he thrust forward even more, craving your friction. You lift yourself up off of him, his hands hold on to your thighs tighter as if trying to keep you on him. Reluctantly, he lets you go; swiping his tongue between your folds once more as you stand.

You move your body to the side of him. He watches you as he licks his lips, trying to savor the taste of you. The heat of your pussy radiates over your cock.

“You’re buying me a Plan B right after this.”

“I will.” His eyes are glued to yours.

Slowly you rock your hips over his cock before grasping it at the base. You look into his eyes as you lower yourself on him.

König’s mouth drops open and he lets out a loud groan. His eyes glued to your tight cunt stretching around his cock. He grabs at the blanket underneath him, squeezing it to the point his knuckles are turning white. He can’t last long in your pussy.

“Mein Gott, you- your pussy—” He can’t form a coherent sentence.

His hands reach out for your breasts as you bounce on him. You have the most incredible pair of tits he has ever seen. He’s always known you were hot, but seeing you like this, not even Aphrodite couldn't compare.

You slap away his hand and lean forward. “Grab my ass and fuck me.”

König nods, having seen this in porn before, he knows what to do. He thinks. His large hands grasp your fat ass and squeeze his fingers into the supple flesh; bending his legs at the knee, he begins to thrust up into you.

As he tries his hardest to not cum, his thrust is slow. He looks at the ceiling as his mind is running 110mph. You grab his jaw again, forcing him to look at you.

“Fuck me. Harder.” You demand of him.

“I don’t…want to hurt you.” He struggles to speak, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes.

“If you don’t fuck me hard, we are done here.”

König would not let his crush on the last two semesters just walk away, especially not since he got you to this part. Guys like him don’t get women like you. He grabs you and rolls you over on to the bed, slamming you down a little harder than he meant to. The look on your face tells him you didn’t mind one bit.

He grabs your hips and pulls you to him, slipping his cock back inside of your tight little cunny. You moan out as your hands grab his arms. König doesn’t hold back as he restricts your movements underneath him using his massive size. He pulls his hips back far before slamming down into you. His enormous cock being rammed deep inside of you, deeper than you can take.

“Oh, fuck! Like that you fucking freak!” You moan out.

König lets out a small growl as he ravishes your body, ruining your cunt for any other man. His mouth clashes into yours, desperate for your kiss. A trail of his hot wet kisses leaving from your mouth down to your breasts. He bites the skin around your areola, marking you as his for your stupid fuck buddy to see.

You push him back. “Rub my clit.” You reach for his hand and guide it so he knows where to touch. “Do small circles.”

He nods and begins to rub slowly at first until you yell at him to go faster. König lets out a surprised moan as he feels you tightening around him. Is this what a female orgasm is? Fuck yes! His hips faster, his rhythm slightly off as he tries to also focus on your clit.

“Don’t stop.” König watches in amazement as you arch your back and tremble. Your pussy becomes so wet it's splashing as he rubs it. He feels on top of the world.

Instantly, a loud pitched moan leaves his throat. A stupid smile crosses his face as he eyes go slightly crossed. He cums deep inside of your pussy. As his body naturally falls forward you push him off to the side.

König lays on his back, on cloud nine. His pale eyes study your face and your body as you lay beside him.

“So,” your breathing is still heavy, “I’ll come by tomorrow and we can start working on my tutoring.”

He nods, willing to give you anything you ask for at this point. Mentally, he is not over the fact he just ate and fucked y/n, you, your pussy.

You stand from the bed and begin to get dressed. Your cunt hurts, König fucks like a mating bull. He’s a good fuck though, there is not denying that.

“Oh, and if you tell anyone, you’re dead.”

“I understand.” König watches you as you get dressed with hearts in his eyes. “What are we?”

You stop and look at him for a moment before letting out a small laugh and shaking your head.

Part 2 Part 3

[heytheredelulu]

Marvel Fanfiction Masterlist

| Smut ❤️‍🔥 | SFW Spicy 🌶️ | Angst ❤️‍🩹 | Fluff ✨ |

Imagines

Bucky Barnes x Reader 💙

Little Devil 🌶️

You’re tempting him to sin.

Ruin Me 🌶️

Say less.

Bucky @ Ulta 🌶️✨

You dragged him with you.

Five Senses ❤️‍🩹✨

You walk him through the grounding method.

I Gotta Take This 🌶️

Bucky wants to make an excuse to slip out of the mission briefing.

Simple

Bucky Barnes enjoys the simple things in life.

To Have and to Hold and to Fuck Whenever I Want

You really think a little bit of blood is going to keep your husband from having you?

Steve Rogers x Reader ❤️

Like Sin 🌶️❤️‍🩹

Your possessive boyfriend accuses you of cheating on him with his best friend- and you decide to rile him up.

Loki x Reader 💚

Yearn for You 🌶️✨

You’ve been friends since childhood, after all this time could he truly feel nothing for you?

Winter Rose Drabbles

The Winter Rose, an ex HYDRA assassin trauma bonded with Bucky Barnes in the aftermath of their deconditioning. They’re walking the fine line of love and friendship and both of them are too afraid to cross it.

Bucky Barnes x Winter Rose 🥀

Wounds ❤️‍🩹✨

Wash Over Me ✨

Fuck the Line 🌶️❤️‍🩹

One Shots

Bucky Barnes x Reader 💙

Temptation ❤️‍🔥

You text your boyfriend a nude selfie while he’s working and now he can’t stop thinking about it.

Good Girl ❤️‍🔥

So close you could taste it- but only if you begged him well enough.

Wants and Needs ❤️‍🔥

You come home late from girls night knowing Bucky will still be up. You want need him and you’re finally going to let him know.

Little Bookworm ❤️‍🔥

Your boyfriend can’t think of anything more adorable than watching you read. One night while you’re in the shower he picks up the book you left on the nightstand: “Haunting Adeline by H.D. Carlton” and thumbs through it, very quickly realizing just what kind of books his sweet little bookworm is really into.

Watch Me ❤️‍🔥

Anon request: “could you do something enemies/rivals where bucky accidentally finds out that you have a mirror kink during a training session?”

Unbreakable ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥

You’ve always wanted to be a mother but your husband is too tormented by his past to believe he could ever be a good father. For so long you’ve accepted that it will never be in the cards for you- after all, it’s only a small price to pay to continue to live the life you’ve built with the man you love. But what happens when you finally admit that you want what he refuses to give you? Will you push him away with your confession or will you finally make him realize that he’s not the man he believes himself to be?

Unbreakable- The After Years ✨🌶️

The conclusion to your story.

Stucky x Reader 💙❤️

Untitled - In progress ❤️‍🔥

Multipart fics

Bucky Barnes x Reader 💙

Ready to Comply Part One ❤️‍🔥

Tony Stark's shy, curvy intern finds herself fighting for her life when the quiet and reserved ex-assassin she's been pining after for nearly a year has been activated by HYDRA and given the order to kill her to prevent the completion of the new tech she's been developing alongside Tony Stark and Stark Industries.

Ready to Comply Part Two ❤️‍🔥

The second installment of Ready to Comply.

Ready to Comply Part Three - In progress ❤️‍🔥

Teaser

Current Taglist (Taglist is open):

@littleone2001 @suz7days @truthfulliarr @lilacka @writtingrose @samsgoddess @loveisallyouneed1125 @vicmc624 @millercontracting @wildernessflora @mydorkyboys @blackhawkfanatic @honestlywork @ladyvenera @cavity-exe @ihavetwoholesforareason @km-ffluv @shortnloud @mrs-katelyn-barnes @somnorvos @22rhianna2006 @fanfictionreaderfan @misshale21 @angelbaby99 @deans-spinster-witch @kezibear @acornacreacure @wintrsoldrluvr @terry2227

To be added to my taglist for upcoming works, leave me a reply on this post.

[winchesterwild78]

All patched up

I’ve got requests- ignore them if you want, but I had to try.

If you could I’d like (all plus sized/curvy reader):

Dean- best friends to lovers type situation, she gets hurt on a hunt, self conscious about letting him take care of her and patch her up. He’s there for her both to stitch her up and emotionally.

*This is for you 😁 I hope I bring your vision to life. Thank you for trusting me with a request!!*

Characters:Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader

Warnings: Language, insecurities, mention of hunting, Fluff, SMUT, oral sex female receiving, protected sex.

A/N: This is the final request from my lovely and I’m so excited to write it. I wrote it fast so please forgive any mistakes. This does not follow The Supernatural story line.

All work is my own, don’t take it!!

Minors DNI 18+

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

“Shit!” You yelled in pain. You realized you had a deep gash on your side. The latest hunt with the oldest Winchester was a long one, and you were glad it was over. During the fight you were thrown through the wall and a piece of the splintered wood cut your side.

You knew you needed to get it stitched up but you didn’t want Dean to do it. You knew he could do it and he was good at stitches, but you didn’t want him to see your body.

You’d been hunting with the Winchesters for about two years now. Sam was great and like a brother to you. Dean, oh Dean was something more to you. Well, in your mind he was.

You’d been with them long enough to know Dean didn’t do relationships. He did one night stands with busty, skinny women. The complete opposite of you. You were busty, but you were curvy too. You carried more weight on your body, had a stomach and you knew he’d never see you as anything but a friend.

You tried to tie a bandage around you enough to keep the bleeding under control until you could get to Sammy. You and Dean made your way back to the hotel for the night. It was late so you two decided to just stay one more night.

Arriving at the hotel Dean told you he was going to take a shower and then head to the bar. You nodded. Your heart broke each time he went to a bar and picked up another woman. You didn’t have any claim to him, but you wanted to.

You sat on the bed and mindlessly clicked through the television. You heard the shower turn off and a few minutes later Dean walked out with just his jeans on. His hair was still damp from the shower and little drops of water ran down his chest. You bit your lip and clenched your thighs together.

“Showers ready for you sweetheart” Dean said. As you stood you got dizzy. You didn’t notice the blood on the back of your shirt. “Hey Y/N, you okay?” Dean questioned. “Yeah. Just got up too fast” you walked past him.

“Holy shit Y/N! You’re bleeding bad! Let me see” Dean shouted. “I’m fine Dean. It’s just a scratch. You go to the bar. I’ll be okay.” You tried to pull away.

“Y/N, sit down now!” Dean demanded. You looked at him and said “No, I’ll be okay. Please let it go.” Tears pricked your eyes. “Sweetheart, please let me look. I can’t let anything happen to you. You mean too much to me.” Dean said softly. “I can’t Dean. I can’t let you see my body. It’s terrible and just, well fat.” You cried.

“Oh sweetheart, your body is perfect. Please let me take care of you. I can’t lose you.” Dean said. “Dean it’s not perfect. Not for you at least.” You whispered “Y/N, please” he said cupping your face.

You relented and laid down. Dean lifted your shirt and saw the gash. When he removed the bandage you winced in pain. “Oh sweetheart, this is really bad. I need to clean it and stitch it up.” Dean said getting up to get the first aid kit. You laid on your side as Dean got to work.

Goosebumps erupted on your skin with every touch from Dean. He smirked when he saw it. Dean really cared about you he was just scared. He couldn’t stand losing you and he knew if the two of you got into a relationship and something happened to you, he would be devastated so he kept you at arms length.

Once he was done and he added the wrap he offered to help you stand. You stood up with his help. Facing him and looking into his green eyes sent heat through your body. You swallowed hard and said “thank you for patching me up. I appreciate it. I’ll be okay taking a shower if you want to head out.” You said trying to walk past him.

As you walked past he gently grabbed your arm and turned you towards him. The two of you stood there in silence looking at each other. Dean cupped your cheeks and you leaned into his touch. He moved towards you and you moved closer to him too. Your lips were inches apart and your breath was mingling with his. He closed the distance and his lips landed on yours.

The kiss was gentle at first then became more passionate. Dean’s hands went in your hair and pulled you closer. You moaned as you continued to kiss him. His hands roamed over your body and you froze.

Dean stopped kissing you and pulled back. “What’s wrong sweetheart” he asked. “You don’t want me Dean. I’m not like the women you sleep with. I’m not beautiful or skinny. I’m curvy and I’m rough around the edges.” You lowered your head. Dean lifted your chin “Y/N, you’re right. You aren’t like the women I pick up in bars. You’re so much more. You’re a badass hunter who can hold her own, an amazing woman who has a huge heart, a beautiful soul who puts family and friends first and you’ve got an amazing body. I love you, not just as a friend but I love you. Please let me show you just how amazing you are. I don’t want the women at the bar, I want you. I’ve always wanted you. I’ve just been scared. Scared of losing you and being here without you. I can’t imagine my life without you and if you’re willing to try I’d like to take our relationship to the next level.” Dean said.

You looked at Dean and smiled. You kissed him again and whispered “Show me Dean. Show me what you want.”

Dean gently laid you down on the bed and leaned over you kissing your lips. He worked his way down your jaw, to your neck and collar bone. Your breath hitched and your hands instinctively held on to his body. His calloused hands ran over your body. You leaned into his touch.

He helped you remove your clothes and you went to grab the sheet. Dean stopped you. “No, please let me look at your body. You blushed and fought every instinct to cover yourself. Dean smiled “sweetheart you are absolutely gorgeous. Look at your body. It’s a work of art.” You smiled. You knew he was being genuine. One thing you can honestly say about Dean Winchester is he never lies about how he feels. It might take him forever to admit it, but when he does it’s the truth.

“Dean, one of us is wearing too much clothes” you whispered. Dean smiled and said “yes ma’am” and started to remove his clothes. You’d seen Dean mostly naked before but never fully. When he removed his boxers you bit your lip.

You had imagined him before. All those late nights alone in your room, but nothing prepared you for the perfection that stood before you. You felt your body respond to him and slick pooled between your thighs. Dean climbed on the bed and leaned over your body kissing your lips. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt his hardness rest on your thigh.

“You ready sweetheart?” Dean asked. You nodded yes. His lips trailed down your body and his hands touched every inch. Dean Winchester was touching you, exploring you and wanted you! Your mind and heart raced. His fingers found your folds and he slid two thick fingers in and you gasped. He smirked and started pumping. You moaned and called his name.

His heart fluttered when you called his name. He had waited since the moment he laid eyes on you for you to moan his name. He was in love with you but was afraid to tell you. Dean had a reputation of going after “the hot chicks” he would meet them in bars and sleep with them then leave before morning. He chose these women because he knew he would never fall in love with them. You on the other hand, from the moment he met you he wanted you.

Dean continued to touch your body. With every moan and calling of his name he fell deeper. He loved how your body responded to him. He couldn’t wait to make you his forever. “Dean I’m close….oh god…..please don’t stop…..oh Dean” you grabbed his hair as he continued eating you like you were his last meal. “Dean!” You yelled as you came hard. You saw stars. Dean continued his assault on your pussy until your legs were shaking and you were squirming under him.

He leaned up smiling and you were flushed and breathing heavy. Dean leaned up and kissed you. You could taste your juices on his lips and it turned you on more.

Dean leaned back and grabbed a condom, ripping it open. He pumped his length a few times and slid the condom on. “You ready sweetheart. If you’re not we don’t have to go any further.” He softly said. “I’m ready Dean, more than ready.” You smiled.

He lined himself up and pushed in. As he entered you both gasped. He made eye contact with you and kissed you. “God you feel amazing Y/N. Better than I imagined.”

Dean took his time with you. Exploring every inch of you. Every thrust felt deeper and stretched you more than you imagined. You felt a second release coming quick and before you could say anything it hit. Your walls clenched around Dean. He stopped and dropped his head in the crook of your neck.

He growled “damn baby. You do that again and I’m going to cum right now.” Dean pulled out and the loss of fullness made you groan. He laid down “climb on top baby. I want to see you.” You positioned your legs on either side of him. You steadied your body with one hand on his chest and took his length in the other lining him back up to you. You pushed down taking all of him in at one time. You both moaned. Deans hands grabbed your hips and held you.

You arched your back showing off your torso and full breasts as they bounced up and down with each thrust. Dean looked up at you and bit his lip. His hands moved to your breasts. You grinded against his hips and he thrusted up. You moaned and so did he.

The sound of moans, kissing and flesh hitting flesh filled the room. This was better than you had imagined. Dean really wanted to and it showed. He wasn’t hurried and each touch was exploring. Memorizing your body.

He leaned up kissing your lips and thrusting up. You moaned loudly and sped up. He lifted his hips to help give you more leverage. You knew he was close. His eyes closed and he grunted, thrusting deeper.

“Oh fuck baby” he groaned. You felt him twitch and his legs fell. When he was ready you moved, laying beside him. Dean rolled over and kissed you gently. “I love you, Y/N”. “I love you too, Dean.”

Dean got up and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. When he came back he brought a warm washcloth and helped clean you. He tossed it to the side and climbed in bed with you. You laid on his chest and he tucked an arm under you. He pulled you close to him. “You’re mine now sweetheart. Now and forever.” He whispered. “You’re mine Dean, now and forever.” You replied.

The two of you drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms. Finally saying the words you both had kept inside. Finally able to see how Dean Winchester not only patched your external wounds but your internal ones too.

Tags: @nescaveckdaily @kr804573 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373 @cheynovak @jassackles @chriszgirl92 @suckitands33 @arcannaa @n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 @smoothdogsgirl @hobby27 @manicjk

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  DOWN BY THE SEASIDE

SUMMARY : sunshine and sunny beaches. Dean’s always talking about the beach, toes in the sand… a couple of those little umbrella drinks… her, in a sexy bikini.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), hating the beach (I hate the beach), fluff, p in v, innuendos, love making, slow sex

WORD COUNT : 3.5k

A/N : led zeppelin song title. too many thoughts, not enough time to write them all out, but… 🏝️🏖️⛱️🌊☀️🐚  I wrote this first. xxxxxx

She padded her way out of the warmth of the house in search of Dean, barefoot. Sand crunched beneath her feet, painless, but irritating prickles against her skin—grains sticking to her, hard to remove completely. 

The wind was still compared to how it had been at midday. Only a cool breeze remained, causing goosebumps to grow over her skin. She tightened the wool blanket around her bikini-clad body. She brought it with the intention of covering Dean up once she got to him. 

The sky began to turn dark, a darkish blue pushed the orange hue away. The sun looked like a sunny-side-up egg resting on the blue horizon, the orange hue that spread across acting like the runny insides of the yolk. 

It was time for dinner. 

After lunch, and after walking Miracle, Dean announced he’d be enjoying a drink while reading a book outside. Much to Sam’s, Cas’, but especially her disappointment. 

That was five hours ago. 

She’d checked in on him through text while she joined Cas and Sam for a little tour. Dean called her when he took a break from reading to play with Miracle. They even did a video call for a few minutes before they reluctantly hung up. 

It was the first day that they had separated in all their time there. Dean wanted to relax, and while she longed to sit by him while quietly doing something herself, she didn’t want to miss the opportunity of getting something special for him. 

Sam had gone for a shower to wash away the sweat and sand from their adventure, and Cas was entertaining Miracle while he waited for his turn. 

Cas took things slowly now. He said so. It was cute to see the angel dressed so… casually. It felt… almost intimate to see him out of that trench coat and that suit, showing a bit of his naturally sun-kissed skin. 

Him and Sam bickered—naturally. It was good natured banter, and it was very funny to watch. Cas didn’t hold his tongue, and that dry humour of his made her cheeks burn from smiling and her stomach ache from laughter. 

She finally got to Dean who was fast asleep, and laying down on a pink and white beach lounger with a book open across his chest, the pages facing down. George R. R. Martin. A Feast for Crows. He was catching up. 

She smiled down at him lovingly and extended her hand to brush away stray hairs from his forehead. He looked beautiful in the orange sunlight, his skin glowing like the sparkly surface of the sea. He snored softly and her smile widened. She trailed her fingers down his cheek, his jawline, and pulled away to remove the book from his chest. 

She placed the heavy book over the crunchy bags, cringing at the loudness of it as the book squashed them. 

She covered him with the blanket she had wrapped around herself, distracted by abandoned, empty bags of Cheetos and gummy rings on a small table beside him, a curvy glass filled with watery, blue liquid, and a yellow cocktail umbrella. She eyed them with amusement as she gently tucked the blanket around Dean’s body—as best as she could without waking him. 

Dean wiggled a little beneath the thick blanket, snuggling into the soft wool, stubbly cheek audibly scratching against it. She froze above him, her lips pressing together anxiously, and she pulled her hands away from him just in case. 

Her eyes softened. He was so cute. 

Dean ended up stirring awake anyway, with a smack of his lips. He breathed in deeply, then groaned, his eyes fluttering open. She quickly pulled away so she wouldn’t scare him, but she relaxed when he smiled softly. He looked at her lazily, his eyes half-open.

“You’re here,” he mumbled, clumsily stretching his hand up and out for her to take. Her smile softened.

“Yeah.” She took his hand, smoothing her fingertips against his calloused palm, slipping her fingers through his. “How was your day, baby? You hungry?” She asked, watching him shut his eyes once more, and bring his hand down against his stomach.

A hum rumbled deeply through Dean’s chest. “Good. Missed you,” he whispered, “I’m pretty, uh… hungry, yeah…” he trailed off sleepily, pulling on her hand to bring it to his lips. 

“I missed you, too,” she murmured, a hot flush rising up her face at the sensation of chapped, warm lips pressing against the back of her hand. “Wanna choose what we eat today?” Dean opened his eyes and puckered his lips thoughtfully, which only drew a tiny laugh from her. 

“Can’t think, so sleepy,” he whined playfully, leaning over the beach lounger to look down at her feet. She playfully curled her toes into the sand, collecting a bunch of grains in her feet, wiggling her toes, the sand rubbing between her toes making a little swishy crunch. “No shoes,” he stated with a bemused expression. 

She shrugged, “you like sand.” 

Dean tilted his head and stared up at her. She did the same—in the opposite direction, nearly becoming sleepy herself with the gentle caress of his fingers against her hand. “You hate sand,” he pointed out with a smug smile. 

She gave in easily. 

“Ugh, I do. It gets everywhere. Even after I shower, I find more. You’re crazy,” she rambled, “when I woke up, there was still sand in our sheets, even on the floor!” Dean chuckled, pulled back the blanket, silently inviting her in with him. She shook her head begrudgingly, “my feet are covered in sand-”

“Get in here, Anakin,” Dean interrupted her, giving her hand a sharp tug that made her stumble forward. 

“I won’t fit,” she whined, but she awkwardly climbed in between his bowed legs anyway. The beach lounger squeaked and she looked down at him frightened, with wide eyes. Dean only laughed and pulled her closer to him, careless about the creaking chair. 

She rested her head on Dean’s chest without protesting when he pulled the blanket over both of them. They were silent for a moment and she traced the lines of his bare chest beneath the colourful Hawaiian shirt until she got to the anti-possession tattoo. 

“Why don’t you like the beach?” He asked, his voice thick with sleep once more. Dean ghosted his fingers up and down her back, lulling her into a sleepy, sedated state. 

“It doesn't matter,” she smiled, “we’re here and I’m happy. You’re happy.” She lovingly kissed Dean’s freckled clavicle. After contemplating his question, she lifted herself up to look into his eyes and crossed her arms across Dean’s chest. She looked at him dreamily. Dean turned red and averted his gaze. “And… you look hot half naked,” she grinned, her dimpled cheeks turning hot like his own. 

“Well, I like seeing you half naked, too…” he trailed off, his fingers sneaking up her back. She rolled her eyes at Dean playfully. “Tell me why you’re a beach hater,” he pouted, slowly tugging at the knot of her bikini top tied behind her neck. 

“Hey!” She exclaimed, uncrossing her arms to place one of her hands beside his head. She held the bra against her chest with her free hand when it slipped down. She blushed while he smirked and tugged at the second knot around her back. Holding the flimsy bra was useless, but she kept her arm there and looked around. 

It was getting darker, a slim line of light remained on the horizon, only lights outside tiny living spaces made the surrounding areas visible. But no one was around where her and Dean were. All she could think was that Cas was still inside the small hut. Sam didn’t take very long in the shower. Either one of them could step out at any moment, especially because of Miracle and his needs. 

“The sun’s too bright,” she whispered uncertainly. Dean stopped to contemplate her, raising his brows for her to continue as he began to undo the little bows on her hips keeping her bottoms in place. “It burns my skin and makes me itchy. And the wind… it makes my hair frizzy and tangled…” 

Dean chuckled, examining her face, and how serious she was about the irritation she felt for the beach. He wrapped his thick fingers around her forearm and gently pulled it away from her chest. She slowly let go, scanning his face, holding his gaze, which flickered down to her chest once the bra fell onto him. 

“We’re here though, it’s not so bad when we’re all having fun,” she reassured him. He looked up, simpered. She slowly lifted herself and the blanket slid down her back. Dean moved with her, allowing her to straddle him. She pulls her bottoms from beneath her to dump them onto the sandy beach, her bra following with an indifferent flick. 

Dean lifted his hips, wiggling to get the shorts down enough for her to pull his half-hard cock out. She dragged her finger from his pelvis to the tip, tapping the slit teasingly. She watched him twitch and harden in her hand.

“Thank you,” he told her softly, his hands slowly gliding up her thighs and her sides. 

She tilted her head and her hair followed, her entire face softening at those two words. Two words that held so much weight and meaningfulness when spoken by him. “Thank you…” She murmured, leaning down to place a kiss between his now-furrowed brows. “… For teaching me to enjoy something I didn’t like, for helping me let loose, for making me have fun, and for so much more.” For every reason, she kissed a different section of his face, and the final destination was his smiling lips. 

Dean pressed his hands into her back, keeping her lips locked with his. The kiss was slow, lazy, loving, but still firm, deep, and demanding. There was no indication of fear or doubt, but there was an impatience in the way he dented her soft skin with his fingertips when his hands traversed across her body. 

His hands finally settled on her hips. Dean pulled her forward, parting from her lips to gasp when her heat rubbed against his erection. She dropped her face into his neck to attach her lips to his throat, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses on every inch of warm skin. She rolled her hips as he guided her and moaned softly when he stretched his head back to give her more access to his neck.

She licked circles over darker freckles, and sucked a light, oval-shaped mark on his pulse, grinding down hard on him when he tightened his grip on her hips and groaned. 

She was having fun, despite how quickly she made herself needy for release. There was something satisfying in the way he begged and moaned, wiggling his hips, hoping to snag his cock at her dripping hole, but it was all to no avail. She kissed lower, across his collarbone and his shoulder, using her nose to move the Hawaiian shirt he’d left unbuttoned out of the way.

He was short of breath by the time she pulled away from his skin and extremely aroused, looking like a melted piece of candy on a hot summer day. She didn’t stop moving her hips and kept teasing him by sinking her teeth into his plump lip, leaving his cock wet in her slick and achingly hard. He throbbed and burned impossibly hot as blood rushed through his cock until he felt like bursting from her grinding alone. 

“Please,” Dean laughed softly, and whined, squirming beneath her impatiently. He bent his knees and brought his hands to her face. She pulled away from his mouth to look at him, but she didn’t protest when he pulled her back in for a kiss, silently asking for her surrender. “One thing on my bucket list…” he whispered. 

She moved back again with a raised brow of curiosity. He chased her lips anyway, ignoring the wordless sign for him to finish his sentence. Dean pouted and stopped trying to kiss her. When the head of his cock prodded at her dripping entrance, Dean’s breath hitched. 

“What’s on your bucket list?” She bit her lip, a smirk playing on her lips when she got the tip of his cock inside her. She reached down to grip him at the base and lifted herself off completely. She did it over and over, repeatedly. 

“S-sex on the beach.” Dean choked on air and his hip bucked upwards unintentionally, unable to stand anymore teasing. Her mouth fell open in surprise when he pushed his cock into her all the way, a painful and delicious stretch around him. 

“Fuck,” she whined, dropping her forehead onto his shoulder. A shiver rippled through her, both from the pleasure of being filled by him and the cool ocean breeze that teased her warm flesh. 

“Sorry,” he whispered, leaning against his elbow to ghost his lips across her sternum apologetically. “I’m sorry,” he murmured again, sliding his hands up her smooth back to bring her closer and warm her up.

“It’s okay,” she exhaled with a breathy laugh. She allowed herself to lean into him, basking in the warmth of his body. Dean kissed her breast firmly, right where her heart was thudding for him—with desire and affection. 

“I want pizza,” he whispered suddenly. She had to stop herself from laughing as Dean circled his tongue around her nipple. She kissed the top of his head and slowly began undulating her hips. 

“Sounds good,” she hummed, beginning to lift herself up and dropping down on his lap slowly. Tormentingly slow. She kept him close, with one of her hands curled behind his neck, the other threading through the short hair behind his head. 

It was frustrating to be in such a cramped, slim chair, but Dean didn’t seem to mind. 

He took the blanket to lift it back up over her waist, and held it in place with his hand as she moved above him unhurriedly. She was more than sure that she could finish like this alone. Driven to the edge by the tiny sensations of her lover being impossibly close. Dean’s breath fanned over her neck, leaving her skin misty the longer he panted from her leisurely pace. 

There was nothing more heavenly than this moment. 

He made a path along her neck and jaw with his lips, leaving a few marks behind that she wouldn’t be able to hide with clothes. Dean wrapped his arm around her waist, clutching the blanket around her still, and met her thrusts at an equally gentle speed. 

She moaned at the fullness she felt in having him inside her, the drag of her slippery walls up and down his length, the brushing of his cock against the most sensitive spots inside her. 

Dean pressed his creased forehead to her cheekbone, his free hand veering up her thigh, so slow. He felt her. Lovingly, he touched her. At least she felt loved with the gradual glissade of his hand tracing the curves of her body, squeezing at certain parts he knew she liked to be touched. 

His touch sent sparks down to her clit. The possessive scrape of his blunt nails down her skin. The pinch of her nipples between two of his fingers, the deliciously rough tugging, the brushing around in teasing circles until they remained peaked and hard. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, Dean,” she mumbled, pressing her lips to his warm cheek.

“You do, too,” he sighed, finding her lips with his own. 

Dean sat up straight in the chair, his chapped, warm lips moved against hers. Using the same listless pace, he slipped his tongue into her mouth, and brought his hand down between her legs, where he thumbed between her folds until he found her swollen clit. 

She gasped at the gentlest brush of the pad of his finger against the sensitive pearl. Her walls clamped down around him tightly, sparks of pleasure from his skilled fingers creating a more powerful flame inside her that urged her to start moving faster in his lap. 

Dean moaned softly into her mouth, and pulled her to him with his arm around her waist, abandoning the blanket that once covered her body. She flexed her hands as they moved down his back when he lifted his hips upwards just a bit faster, meeting her pace, driven both by her pleasure and his own. 

She buried her face in his neck, biting into his taut flesh with her teeth and her nails scratching down his back, leaving behind red marks, and indentation against the canvas of his freckled skin. Dean grunted softly and did the same to her, desperate to feel her everywhere and completely driven by love. He barely grazed her skin with his short fingernails and bit into the skin between her neck and shoulder as his hips stuttered up into her.

“Please,” she murmured, kissing her way up his ear, “I want to feel you cum inside me, Dean.” Dean groaned deeply and bit his lip just as she decided to begin grinding down on him. 

Dean’s cock rammed deeply into her slick and warm insides until he finally came inside her. Slow, gentle pleasure warmed his skin, a buzzing and cotton sensation filled his brain the more he focused entirely on his pleasure until her walls began to squeeze around him tightly. Dean cursed softly into her ear and his hips bucked into her and he collapsed back into the beach lounger with her in his arms, whispering his name repeatedly as she gushed messily around him. 

Dean moved his hand away from her clit and he blindly searched for the blanket to cover both of them once again. The cool air made him feel just how much of their fluids began to drip out of her and he shivered. Her lips made their way back to his own, and a quiet laugh made her shake above him.

“What?” He mumbled, pressing a kiss to her open mouth.

“This might be the best day of my life, Dean.” Dean pulled back to gaze at her with a tiny smile. He brushed hair away from her slightly sweaty forehead, and caressed her heated cheek. “You, me, Sammy, Cas… the beach, lots of food, no more hunting,” she listed, turning her face slightly to kiss his palm. “You,” she grinned playfully.

Dean threw his head back as he laughed loudly. She watched with a more adoring smile that made him flush when he looked at her, his laughter slowly dying down. She bit her lip and lifted herself to let him slip out of her, his cock soft, and coated in their release. 

“Give me your shirt, so we go back in before they decide to order something you don’t want to eat today,” she snorted, taking the blanket with her as she stepped onto the irritating sand. She looked down shamelessly at his wet cock and tightened the wool cloth around her shoulders. 

Dean tutted, “no aftercare.” 

She rolled her eyes at him, but a smile still made its way onto her face. Dean shook his head with a childish pout, staring into her eyes seductively as he lifted his hips to pull his shorts up over his cock. 

“Well, we can shower together.” She shuffled forward, between his legs when he moved his legs to one side of the beach lounger, the cold sand beneath his feet making him shiver. “And clean each other up, and enjoy some… pizza… and watch whatever you want… and then… we can do whatever we want.” Dean slowly peeled the shirt off his body, staring into her loving gaze. “We have the rest of our lives together,” she whispered.

Dean grabbed her hips and tugged her back towards him. “I love you,” he told her softly, tugging the blanket from her body, urging her to climb back into his lap. 

“I love you,” she giggled, helping him put the shirt he wore on her body. His warmth still stuck to the shirt, as did the scent of him. She began to button it as he dropped kisses on her chest.

“Guys!” Sam shouted from the door. “We’re starving!” 

Miracle ran out from between Sam’s long legs and made his way to where her and Dean were. She carefully moved out of his lap, laughing as the fluffy dog spun in circles then took her discarded bikini bra from the sand and ran back inside to where Sam was.

“I think Miracle’s tryin’ to play,” Dean chuckled. He picked up his book, the glass, and the trash of his finished snacks, while she picked up her underwear. She snickered when she saw Sam tugging her bra from Miracle who got into a playful stance at Sam’s feet.

“Did you guys really- Ugh, nevermind!” Sam shook his head when he snatched her bra from Miracle’s mouth as if it had ick on it and stepped back inside, leaving the door open. Miracle waited loyally for her and Dean to return, and Cas appeared behind an impatient Miracle waving at the couple to hurry up.

“Hey, don’t bend down, I can see everything.” Dean smacked her ass and grinned, walking beside her. 

“I’ll try not to.” She bumped into him playfully. He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed the top of her head.

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superstar | jjk

you, the quiet, lonely achiever, get paired up with the superstar new student at your university for a group project... and he needs all the help he can get

description/tw/tags: ~7.1k words / jungkook x chubby (f) reader / one-shot / fluff with a tiny dash of angst / strangers to friends to lovers / university AU / this is a request, submitted by the lovely @cat123jkbunny / i hope you (all) like it! / fatphobia (details: y/n is insecure and quiet and she gets bullied for her body and is made fun of for it, with someone insinuating she isn't good enough because of her body. There is also a scene where she feels like she is ashamed to eat in a crowded place but jk helps her out of that) / clean except for kissing and swearing / this is for my fellow curvy/chubby/plus girlies, you are all beautiful and i am always here for you and i hope you like this / feedback is always welcome and it's appreciated! note: i have 2 half-written drabbles (AND even some more ideas) that emerged from this fic request, with the same couple! If you guys like this and want to see those - let me know!

┅ ┅ ┅ ┅

Please not Jeon Jungkook. Please God, not Jeon Jungkook. Anyone…. anyone but…

“….Jeon Jungkook.”

Damn it.

His name echoed throughout the gigantic lecture hall and in your skull. Out of every student in your class, did it really have to be him? The one paired assignment you had in your course had to be with Jeon Jungkook. As your professor called out the pairs… there seemed to be no one left but the two of you and the final pair, who were always together, his best friends Taehyung and Jimin. You’d gladly work with either of them instead, or anyone really….

There was nothing wrong with Jeon Jungkook… nothing at all. That was what was so bewildering about your university's superstar. Jeon Jungkook was the school's…. everything. Enigmatically the star athlete, a featured artist, a Dean’s List candidate, and even a band member on the weekends, apparently.  He was the student that transferred to your prestigious university - absolutely unheard of - simply because the faculty were that impressed by him. With a reputation like that, it wasn’t long before everyone knew his name and face and was captivated by him immediately. Even the professors took a liking to him straight away - you’d grown tired of hearing them mention his name during office hours while they seemed to be getting tired of you. Every girl and guy on campus fawned over him - within good reason, you had to admit, considering his reputation and easy-on-the-eyes appearance… though you'd never stare his way for too long. The point remained:

If you went unseen, Jeon Jungkook was seen.

Being paired with him meant that whether you liked it or not, you would be in the spotlight in some way. No matter what - you’d have to talk to him, for God’s sake. You think to bolt out of the hall, find his email address, and just send him a breakdown of your responsibilities for the assignment or even an offer to do all the work yourself. You’d hate to, but if it meant interacting with Jeon Jungkook as little as possible and remaining unseen, you’d do it - what’s a few all-nighters and extra work when faced with the humiliation of talking to the school’s most popular person?

“Y/N?”

Shit.

People hardly called you by your name at university - your one friend had already graduated, so just being called would’ve startled you enough… let alone having heard it from such a hushed, singsong voice. Turning around, you see the enigmatic man standing right above you. Everything made sense in an instant. The love, seeing his kind smile. The admiration, seeing his muscles. The crushes and rumored weekly love letters he received, seeing… him.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Jungkook,” he says, gesturing towards himself as if you’d never seen him or heard of him. “I don’t know if you know me, I sit all the way in the back? With Taehyung and Jimin?”

“Hi, I know who you are, Jungkook,” you mumble.

“Oh, cool,” he says, still smiling. “I guess we’re together! For the assignment, I mean...”

“Yeah, I guess so. You don’t really have to worry about a thing, though. I can just send you an email later breaking down what each of us should do, or I can just do it all by myself, and we’ll-”

“Oh. No,” he says, quietly interrupting you. “I… can’t have that. I don’t think that’ll work.”

You felt whatever polite expression was on your face fade at that moment… What did he mean by ‘no’?

“I want to actually work on this… I want to work on it together… please.”

You had no idea what to think at that moment, only replaying his quiet, hushed ‘please’ over and over again as he stood beside you, fiddling with his earrings.

“Jungkook, I can take care of it. You really don’t have to…,” you start, but he interrupts you again, shaking his head and sitting down beside you in the now almost empty classroom.

“No, Y/N. I..,” he starts in a hushed tone. “I’m really falling behind in this class and we have the exam coming up…. It’s not just that, it all seems so interesting it’s just that my stupid brain can’t comprehend much of it.”

Jeon Jungkook? Falling behind? Admitting to an unknown fact? Call himself ‘stupid’? Sitting in front of you, he’d finally been looking at you, his wide eyes lowered since the moment he’d approached. It was eerie too see, a look behind the curtain into the life of your community’s local celebrity when you’d been nothing but just another spectator.

“Look, I always want to do things on my own too, so I get where you're coming from...” he continues, “…and that must mean you can try to understand how desperate I am here. It’s hard to ask for help, but… I need it. I’m not lazy, I promise. I need actual… help... please.”

So that’s why.

The shock faded away in an instant. If there was one thing you might've been known for at university, it would definitely have been your grades. Strangers came and went, looking for “the fat girl at the top of the class," as a couple of students kindly called you, never bothering to ask your name. They never got consideration back or even a glance in their direction, let alone your work when they dared to ask to copy it…. but… Jeon Jungkook asked for help. Not to copy the homework, get basic instructions, or an "in" with certain professors. But help. And for the chance to work on it together.

A refusal rested at the tip of your tongue, even then, but that quiet ‘please’ was still on a loop in your mind…

How could you say no?

“Okay..”

“Yes! Good! Great, okay,” Jungkook says enthusiastically. Did he always have a wife, bunny-toothed smile? It was adorable. “Can we meet at the library tomorrow?”

“…Sure, Jungkook.”

“Perfect. Get ready, Y/N. I have a lot of questions. Oh, wait, first of all - what was that song you were humming on your way out of class yesterday?”

┅ ┅ ┅ ┅

You suspected it would be the one study session to get Jungkook up to speed and lay out the work for the assignment. But the one session turned into two, which turned into three, and before you knew it, you and Jungkook would be meeting at the library every single day.

It was… overwhelming to say the least. The workload, definitely, as well as the added time spent teaching him but on top of that… the stares and whispers nearly set you off when other students, even his own friends, Taehyung and Jimin, would murmur ineligible words when they'd spot you together in the library. It didn't slip past you that it definitely must’ve been a weird sight, the Jeon Jungkook sitting next to a nobody like you...  but when you were actually with him, the world around you faded away. All that mattered was the material you knew by heart and the boy who needed to learn it. And boy, did he need to.

After an hour of explaining the material to him one day, he’d continued to stare at you blankly. “Jungkook…. Are you even listening to me?” you resigned multiple times, realizing he had a tendency to space out at random points throughout the day. It was enough to almost tempt you to ghost him and just present him with a finished assignment or a detailed lesson plan.... but when he snapped out of it, he always hit you with an adorable, child-like pout and that irresistible plea: “Can you explain it to me again, please?”

So, you resisted the urge you felt before and after study sessions, to neglect him and stop the meetings altogether. In truth, you could’ve. Jungkook would do well enough to pass... but you couldn't accept him achieving the bare minimum. "I'm trying to steal your crown," he joked on day two, proving one of the many things you and everyone else had heard about Jeon Jungkook.

Finding out something new about Jungkook was to turn the page on the most fascinating book you'd ever read with limitless pages, for it seemed as though he and his talents could be described as such. It - he - was awe-inspiring, new, and enticing in the best of ways. And at times, it felt like it was only yours to hold, for you were the person discovering aspects to him, hardly believing it been you realizing it yourself, up close and personal.

He was definitely a competitive one, that, everyone knew - but you’d realized it went far beyond sports - aiming to rival you and fellow Dean's List candidate Kim Namjoon for the valedictorian spot despite admitting he'd still be behind if he tried his hardest, just thankful to have some worthy competitors. It proved that it was real ambition that Jungkook had in him. In contrast to the rumors that he never really cared about his studies, you saw just how clever and curious he'd been, in addition to his dedication in showing up every day, even when he didn't need to. He loved everything he did and never limited himself, whereas you’d been studying as much as you could in your field only to further advance in your comfort zone of academia. When you'd revealed this to him, he, ever the competitive one, expressed his jealousy at the stability ahead of you, helping ease the countless worries you'd had about your own future.

And, you’d discovered the fact that he’s, surprisingly for an artist and musician, more in his element when it came to logic, numbers, and science - with spreadsheets, calculations, and graphs just to keep track of your progress on the assignment, though he skewed the numbers to work on the assignment further. It frustrated him most as he struggles with words, essays, and theoretical concepts, which never made sense to you, considering he felt so much and made you feel so much in return. It was never stress or anger, even on the hardest of days - he had a surprisingly relaxed attitude for such an accomplished athlete. Rather, he expressed patience and envy when you'd been teaching him, and what got you most - his awe at the subject matter… even though he zoned out often. His eyes lit up whenever he started to understand something… you could swear you almost saw stars in his pupils whenever something evidently clicked inside his brain. And every time it did, every time you felt that damned butterfly in your stomach whenever he smiled… only to leave the study session to see daggers in your direction… you had to remind yourself - you were just here to help him.

He was Jeon Jungkook, for crying out loud. You were just another person who started to like him, as everyone does.

You had to remind yourself that his eyes were ordinary, brown eyes - no matter how big and starry they'd looked on certain nights. That though you’d gotten used to the way his soapy scent blended with that of the books around you, the familiarity of the books’ sweetness on its own was just as lovely. That people were looking. That he asked to study, not to get to know you. And that he had his pick of anyone he wanted in the entire university and beyond... there's no reason he'd want to spend time with you for longer than he had to and for more than you had been spending already. Your mental reminders only worked that hard when you had work to do.

For the first time in your life, you felt like a fool. For laughing at his every joke. For continuing to study with him and not putting an end to it the first time your heart fluttered. For not stopping the crush that you had on Jeon Jungkook. Though you felt like one, you never acted like a fool in front of him - at least, you didn’t think so, holding onto that paper-thin hope to at least ground you in some way. It was just as easy to remember that the sheer impossibility of anything happening, plus the actual studying, were at the forefront. It was hard to kill the butterflies, though. They returned every day, whenever you’d bounce off one another in explanation and conversation, drifting off-topic and sometimes getting personal, when he joked around and tried to convince you that university isn’t actually the end of the world… or even when you simply sat working together in comfortable silence.

That was exactly how it was on a regular Thursday afternoon. Tucked away in your corner of the library, you and Jungkook worked away peacefully when a student you’d never seen walked up to Jungkook. A regular occurrence, seeing as he was so popular.

“Hey, Kookie,” you hear, your eyes still fixated on your screen.

“Hey, Jia,” he replies. You can’t tell if he looked up at her or not. Did he? What did his eyes say? Fuck, why should you care?

“Hey, what… what are you doing?” she says with a giggle. If your peripheral sight was to be trusted, she placed her hand on his shoulder. You shouldn’t care, but resist a smile when he shoves it away. “You’re here every day, Jungkookie. Aren’t you bored? Like… what are you doing?”

“I’m working,” he replies.

“What about her?”

Glancing at her direction, you could see it on her - Jia's - face that she definitely didn’t know your name, and you knew the stares you got well enough to know the look on her face was one of confusion or, dare you say it, disgust. Jungkook's eyes flickered down from you, before returning to his notes.

“Y/N and I have that assignment together,” he replies, “the final project for Mr. P’s class before the exam.”

“Ohhhhhh,” she says, nodding in realization. “Okay, that makes sense then,” she giggles. “See you, Kookie. Call me if you want to have some fun tonight.”

To you, it was clear as day what she meant. That makes sense. In a way, she was right. It was the only possible way Jungkook would be sitting here, with you, every single day. He never would have - wouldn’t have even known you existed - if he hadn’t been paired with you. He made sense with girls like Jia - someone he’d have fun with rather than study with and beautiful in every way society wanted her to be, starting with her model-like body to compliment his built one. That made sense, you reminded yourself.

It must’ve been a good minute since you’d done anything on your computer, so focused on making sure the pesky insects in your stomach were dead, that you barely heard your name being called repeatedly until Jungkook waved his hand in front of your screen.

“HELLO?!”

“What?” you jolt, seeing his crouched head peeking to look at you.

��I was asking if you could throw this. The trash can is next to you.”

Jungkook hands you a piece of paper, unfolded, before sitting down and staring back at his screen, this time with his headphones on. You move to throw the paper out in a hurry, almost missing what was scribbled on it.

Jia’s name and phone number.

┅ ┅ ┅ ┅

Before you knew it, the deadline for the assignment arrived, and you and Jungkook were done. After a particularly long night at the library finalizing the paper, you uploaded the document and he hit the daunting blue button titled ‘submit’.

“YES!” Jungkook cheers from behind you, having looked over your shoulder to submit the paper together. With his head right beside yours with his arm planted on the desk in front of you, the veins you’d never noticed before on full display. Just when you realized it had been too close not to get panicked, he forces your chair to spin and face him, sticking his hand out for a high-five. “We did it!”

“We did,” you sigh, meeting his hand, pushing away the feeling of it in your mind.

“Why on Earth do you look sad?” Jungkook asks. “We should be celebrating! Let’s go get fried chicken!”

“Just thinking of the exam coming up and my other paper,” you half-lie.

How could you tell him you’re already mourning the time you spent together? He shouldn’t catch on, though…

“But I guess you’re right. It is a good thing that we’re done with it.” Really, it was. The delusional thoughts would cease. Might as well say goodbye. “It’s been fun… getting to do this and getting to know you, Jungkook.”

You reach out your hand for a high-five, as he had, but instead of going to meet it, he takes two steps back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You think you’re getting rid of me that easily?” he questions, cocking his brow.

“What?!”

“You said it yourself. We have the exam coming up.”

“Jungkook, you should be fine. You aced that assignment.”

“No, absolutely not.  I want… I need you. Your presence motivates me, and when I’m with you, I feel at ease…. with the material. It’s less scary.” It’s hard to ignore how wide Jungkook’s pupils had gotten as he fidgeted with his lip ring.

“Jungkook, Mr. P's exams are beasts unearthed from the very depths of hell. If I’m being completely honest, I can’t spend all my time teaching you," you say, speaking the truth.

“I’m not even asking for that. Just let me be near or around you. I’ll be quiet and ask minimal questions in the case of an emergency.”

Staring up at him, he had the same pleading and innocent expression on his face when he first approached you after you’d been assigned together. The time you spent together only confirmed that when he bit his lower lip and simultaneously arched his brows inwards and upwards… he was serious and pleading.

“I… might kick you out some days, Jungkook. When I need to focus extra hard.”

“Kick me out, then. Say the word, and I’m gone. And on the flip side, say the word, and I’m there - with anything you need. Like…. iced coffee! I know your order by now. Iced Vanilla Latte with an extra shot of espresso.”

Jungkook retraces his steps, standing right over you. It’s only when his hand reaches out do you realize your arm is upright, your unmet high-five still in the air. His hand meets yours softly, and without a single sound, fingers and palms perfectly aligned. His skin was calloused from his paintbrush and instruments, cushioned against your soft skin, his slender fingers towering over your wide ones… Pulling your hand down, your fingers get caught in his, which slightly curved towards you before your hand slips away.

Taking a deep breath, you notice Jungkook clear his throat. Suddenly, neither of you knew what to do with your hands, but he thinks fast, stuffing them in his pockets before finally looking back at you.

“So, deal?”

“Deal,” you yield, foolishly.

┅ ┅ ┅ ┅

Thank God you were smart as fuck.

Because though Jungkook kept true to his word, it turns out it was extremely hard to focus when your crush was doing one of two things - either quietly sitting beside you in all his glory (with no distractingly helpful responsibility of teaching him) or worse, when he was tending to you. There were the iced coffees, the water intake reminders, the extra highlighters, the space he gave you when he felt you needed it - even checking in with an “I’ll kick myself out for today” on a particularly stressful night before you knew you needed to do it yourself, for some alone time. You rarely wanted it anymore anyways. His questions and interruptions were few, always pleasant, of course, and never took up much of your time. It was worth it, seeing that proud smile of his when he now answered his own questions, just making sure from you that they were actually correct. The butterflies never stopped, especially considering he now sat beside you in the front corner of Mr. P’s lecture hall, abandoning Jimin and Taehyung on the other side of the room... The random, beautiful doodles he adorned your notebook with always made you smile harder whenever you studied - he was there even when he wasn’t.

“I knew you’d still be here,” Jungkook says, walking to your desk in the quiet library. Looking at the clock on your screen, you finally realize the time.

“What can I say?” you sigh. “What are you doing here, Jungkook? Isn't today Jimin's party, or whatever it was?”

“It was, and it might've been the dullest party Jimin ever threw. I know you cruelly rejected my invitation, but honestly... I don't blame you. It was the same old stuff and people and.. here's way more fun," he explained.

"Oh, come on," you reply, rolling your eyes. "Go back to the party, Jungkook. There's no way you think studying is more fun than even the most boring party at Jimin's."

"Hmmm... you're right. I still picked you instead because I missed you." The sentence escapes Jungkook's lips so quickly you didn't have a chance to realize what he'd said before he went on. "I wish you'd come... to give yourself a break. Knowing you'd be here, I decided to come and force you to rest. I also know that you haven’t eaten yet and that we still didn’t celebrate our assignment. We really should celebrate now, anyways.”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t check your email?”

You move to frantically get to your laptop before he blocks you. “No, you’re done for the day. Or at least, the hour - you didn't move all day, and I'm worried. Plus, your eyes are too tired. Should I get eye drops?”

“Jungkook... what score did we get?!”

“Only a 95%,” he shrugs, acting cool and uncaring before finally breaking into a wide smile. “We did it!”

A 95% was among the highest scores you’d ever gotten at university - a mark good enough to ensure you'd be the valedictorian instead of Kim Namjoon, who you’d been in competition with ever since freshman year. Not only that, 95% was a fast track that allowed you to possibly get your work published. Shrieking, you jump up from your chair and into Jungkook’s open arms. Realizing your position in the rush of it all, with your head on his shoulder, his tucked into the crook of your neck, and his hands wrapped around your plush waist… your heart only raced faster, which you didn’t think was possible. You quickly unravel your arms from around his back, and it takes a second longer for him to do the same.

You just hugged Jeon Jungkook. Why was he red? Probably ashamed, wondering if anyone saw him hug you.

“I never thought I'd... hear you scream in the library," he laughs, turning to a paper bag he'd placed on the table when he arrived. "I brought that fried chicken to celebrate. Let’s sit a while. You still need a break from all the screens.”

“I’d love to, but I can’t… eat here.”

“Why not?”

“There are some students around. You, too.”

“So? No one will mind the smell of fried chicken. That couple over there is eating it, too.”

"No, it’s…." you sigh, feeling as though you’re finally exposing some sort of unknown truth to Jungkook, despite the fact that he could obviously see you. "It’ll only make people judge me more. Stare at me more. For eating something like this in public. It’s like I…shouldn’t… with everything I’ve got going on. Like… it’s shameful?”

“But there’s nothing to be ashamed about. Nothing at all.” Jungkook looked just as confused as he’d been when he didn’t understand something in the lesson plan, but suddenly, it shifted to his ‘got it’ state. When he finally knew what to do. “Fuck it. Fuck everyone. Sit. Let’s eat. If anyone dares to look at you…. or, God forbid, say anything... You know I'm on the university's wrestling team, right?"

You nod and laugh because everyone knew, but he goes on. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure the whole university does, so I'd like to see some punk try anything."

He goes silent, shaking his head as he unloads the bag he brought and encouraging you to eat until he'd already finished half the bucket. Hesitantly, you grab a drumstick before finally taking a bite with your eyes fixated on Jungkook the entire time. You’d have avoided his gaze, even turned away, but with his raised brows and a closed-mouth smile, desperately awaiting your review… you knew you had to give him an answer fast, and you do so after the very first bite, shooting him a thumbs up. It was really good - sweet, sour, and spicy all at once. With your second bite and his proud smile, you recall another rumor you’d heard about Jungkook long ago. That he went on a tour of all the fried chicken spots in the city to find the best one. Asking him about it, you didn’t expect to find out that not only was it true, but it was also a life-long, worldwide mission of his - “Forget all the shit I’m talented at, this is my life’s purpose,” he proclaimed, saying that the chicken he'd brought had been his favorite so far. "And I wouldn't get you anything less than the best I’ve found, darling."

You felt your face flush, knowing Jungkook must've called you that jokingly. Still, the pet name sent your mind into overdrive, more than the studying did, as you fed your delusions for a little while. Darling.

You could've sworn you were actually living in your delusions later that night when he dropped you home for the very first time. The conversation never stopped, even until you were standing by your apartment building. "Still gonna study?" he asked, staring at your door.

"Maybe," you replied, knowing you'd be too delusional to do so, and if you tried, you would only end up staring at the words and cursing Jungkook for being too perfect and making you this way.

"Well, do you want to eat ramyeon now?” he’d said with a giggle. Catching you off guard, you nearly choked on air at the double entendre coming from him, but rolled your eyes and answered with a simple “Yes” instead, only for his smile to fade quickly.

Your fat ass should not be making jokes like that when you knew damn well you wouldn’t have shot. Especially not after dinner.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Jungkook," you hurriedly say, attempting to dash inside, only for your jacket to get caught on the way in. Looking down, you realize it hadn't been the knob that stopped it but rather Jungkook's fingers, clutching onto the fabric before letting it slip away. "Sorry. Goodnight."

┅ ┅ ┅ ┅

The moment kept replaying in your head, buried in your hands on the desk, agonizing over the humiliation as a break from agonizing over the workload. You had time to agonize today, Jungkook wasn’t there yet. If he saw you like that, he’d nudge you to get out of it.

“Hello?”

Jolted by the sudden voice of a woman, you look up to see Jia. “Hi,” you say, too awkwardly even for you. “Can I help you with something? Jungkook’s not here if you’re looking for him.”

“I can see that,” she scoffs. “I came to talk to you.” In all this time, your first run-in with her had been your only semblance of interaction, though you hadn't ever spoken to each other.

“Oh… Why?”

“What’s going on… between the two of you?”

“Me and... Jungkook? He told you, we had that assignment together….”

“That’s done,” she snaps.

“And now I’m just helping out with his studies.”

“Then why did Nani see him drop you home?”

“We’re… friends, Jia,” you mutter. You’d never called Jungkook that before, a friend, but you can’t help but think it’s fitting to do so... It fit, didn’t it? Weren’t you… friends? At the very least? Or...

“We’re classmates,” you quickly add.

“Friends - that's the funniest shit I've heard. His actual friends, Jimin and Taehyung refuse to tell me anything when he left that party. They were probably concerned and unsettled by it all…. I mean, everyone here can see how much you gush over him, you know? It’s embarrassing. I don’t know how he doesn’t see it and steer clear - especially since you should come with a cattle crossing sign, seriously.”

Was it that obvious?

“We all know he's just using you for that piece of meat between your ears until the exam's over. He's not an idiot, you know? Don’t get carried away thinking anyone outside your league would be interested in you.”

An emptiness grew with the uncovering of a deep fear of yours. Of course. Of course, he was still using you, you idiot... It was just the help he needed. Neither of you could have gotten the 95% on your own... He said he needed the help... the mark... She was right. He wasn't an idiot... but wasn't the Jungkook you knew too kind to use someone like that?

It was then that your phone, lying on the desk, lit up with a message, clear as day for the both of you to read.

[from: jungkook] “i’m on my way to you rn. brought kimbap!! hope you like it. made it myself :) ”

“Pft. He knows how to keep a fat girl on his hook. You fucking whale.”

You fucking fool.

“Heyooooooo!” you hear from a short distance in that familiar singsong voice that tugged at your heartstrings. Jungkook turned a corner and finally appeared from between the shelves. “Kimbap! Wait, what the fuck is wrong?”

Shit. You hadn’t realized tears were streaming down your face. As if you could be any more humiliated. Not even able to glance his way, despite him repeating the question over and over again, mere steps away from you, you stuff your things into your bag and rush out.

The last thing you catch is Jia’s scoff.

┅ ┅ ┅ ┅

Suddenly, avoiding Jungkook was easy. That urge you had long ago, the one in line with you, Jungkook, and the ways of the world…. Your two different worlds.

He’d chased you, easily getting to you and stopping you. Repeating his question again.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you had let out, staring at the ground. You couldn’t talk if you wanted to.

“Are you kidding? What is it? Tell me…” he says quietly, putting his hands on your shoulders. You shake them off in an instant, walking away, only for him to follow close behind. “What is it? You’re not okay.”

“It’s… stress.”

“Bullshit - I’ve obviously seen you stressed. This isn’t it. I’ve never seen-”

“Jungkook, I’m kicking you out. Keep your word that you’ll stay out,” you snap, finally turning to look at him in the crowded library. If he’d never seen you this way, you’d never seen him that way either. Hurt. You can’t see why. He got what he wanted out of you, plus you’d told him you’d kick him out….

If only it was easy to keep him out. Jungkook had always listened when it came to the material, but it was as if he never knew how to in any other regard. His texts and calls over the weekend went ignored until you finally mustered up the courage to block him. You thought that would be that - Jungkook would go back to his world, and you’d go back to yours - but on your first day back, you find him sitting on the floor at the door to the library at the crack of dawn.

You’d specifically gone that early to avoid Jungkook - who always showed up during the late afternoons or evenings after having just woken up then on his off days. Yet here he was, sitting cross-legged by the glass door you’d walked into together countless times, glancing at the handful of other students with exams and deadlines as they walked in, out, and around him. Even from a distance away, you could see how wide his doe-eyes were. And he jumps up the moment he spots you slowly approaching the door.

“How’d you know I’d be here?” you ask quietly, trying to avoid his gaze.

“You say that as if you don't practically live in the library," he says, almost amused. "If you mean how I knew you'd be here so early - I took a chance. I would’ve waited all day until I saw you… All week, if that's what it took. And I probably would've convinced Mr. P to include a note with your exam sheet if you decided you disliked me until then.”

….Shit. Sure, you’d never end up with him, but he only fidgeted with the loose strings on his hoodie when he was really stressed - a sight you'd only seen once after a supposed tough day at wrestling practice. Now, they'd been undone with a hole at the bottom of the thick fabric. Knowing you caused it...

“I’m sorry, Jungkook. I shouldn’t have…”

“Yeah. You shouldn’t have,” he grumbles before shaking his head. “No, you don’t... You don’t owe me anything. You don’t owe me your time… I should’ve stayed “out” like I promised, but… I just want to know if you were okay.”

“I am,” you barely let out. With tears bubbling in your eyes, you walk into the library.

“I don’t believe it,” he says, trailing you.

“I kicked you out, remember? Stay out. Why do you even care?" you say without turning back.

“I care about you!”

When you finally stop to stare at him, Jungkook doesn't allow you to deny him, immediately grabbing your hand and pulling you deep into the library, through the twisty, student-filled desks, between sky-high bookshelves.

“Y/N, I want you to be okay. You don’t owe me an explanation if you don’t want to tell me anything, but… that's all I want. For you to be okay and happy and... you can't lie to me and tell me that you're alright. You can kick me out as much as you want to, I promised I would let you do so, but I'll always be waiting for you right outside that door. If you'll allow me to... I'll always be here for you."

The tears come pouring out, and without a thought, you rush into him, sobbing into his chest. “Hey, hey,” he says, a hand in your hair and the other soothing your back. "I’m here. I told you I'm here.” You missed his embrace. Had assumed you’d never feel it again. You probably won’t, past this point.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, with his arms wrapped firmly around your waist as you stare up at him. “Is it the stress?”

“No, Jungkook…. It’s.. you.”

“Me?!” he says, gesturing towards himself.

“Well, no, actually… I guess it’s me,” you mumble, staring at his hands, now at his sides.

“I don’t understand, Y/N.”

“Jungkook, we need to stop these study sessions. Not for a week but… I’m permanently kicking you out, and I don't know if I have it in me to ever unlock that stupid metaphorical door again.”

“Exile, huh?" To your surprise, he nods. "At least let me know this… Am I that annoying?”

Out of desperation, you almost say yes, but you’ve been cruel enough - Jungkook didn’t deserve any of it.

“No. No, not at all…”

He pauses. “I don't understand, but if this will make you happier, all I can say in this case is… thank you. I don't about my grades as much as you do, so I'm really just thank you for all this time. I…. I liked…. I liked spending this time... spending this time with you,” Jungkook lets out, his voice breaking.

Looking up at him, you see his eyes red. Was he about to cry too?

“It won’t,” you mumble.

“What?” he asks, looking down at you as if he were looking up, teary-eyed and innocent.

You either tell him, or tell him nothing and risk…. other people telling him, along with their own added commentary on how you weren’t good enough. It would be easier just to let that happen... Letting go of him yourself, despite the pain, would be more merciful on you both. So, you do, breaking away from his embrace.

“It won’t make me happier if we stopped.”

“Then why do we have to?”

“Jungkook, we need to stop because… for the first time in my life... I’ve set myself up for failure.”

“You’re the smartest person in the entire university. How on Earth did you set yourself up to fail?”

"Because I did it by stupidly falling for the best person in this entire university. I... like you, Jungkook," you spit out, hiding your face in your hands as soon as the confession leaves your lips.

“How is that setting yourself up for failure?” he sniffs.

You can’t help but notice a shift in his tone as he pulls your hands away from your face and tilts your chin towards him. He looked as serious as he sounded.

“Jungkook, be real.”

He stares at you, confused.

“You’re.... a star. Everyone here knows who you are - you're the best in every field imaginable - sports, art, music, academia, and on top of all of that, you're the sweetest, kindest, smartest - fucking best person I, well, everyone knows. And... look at you and look at me. I make sense of everything in this world, and this doesn’t make sense. Everyone knows it. They already give us weird looks for even sitting together. I know you just needed help, and I was happy to offer it, but I thought I'd be smarter than this. I think you probably offered to be there for me as a friend. I think we're friends, right? Either way, I think I've been an idiot for even thinking of you in that-"

Jungkook's lips meet yours, interrupting your ramble, train of thought, and your breathing with a kiss.

“You think too much," he whispers against your lips, stroking your soft cheek with the back of his index finger. "You can never set yourself up for failure, genius. I like you too.”

“No.... Stop," you say, taking two steps away from him. "Jungkook, you're being mean."

"Mean?!"

It had to have been a prank. Jungkook being so committed onto getting a good grade, once again.

"You can't use me like this. And what, you'll ghost me after the exam? After all the help? Pretend I never existed?"

"You say that and call me 'mean'? Do you really think I'd do that?" he asks, letting out a huff with his eyebrows furrowed. You'd never seen Jungkook.... angry. "I would never. Not to you, or anyone. If that were the case, if I weren't so goddamn in love with you, I'd be standing ashamed, fessing up in front of you instead of feeling so hurt and angry. The girl I like really thinks so low of me?" Taking a deep breath, Jungkook collects himself. "I wouldn't spend a semester with you if that was the case. I don't know why you'd think... that."

"It doesn't make sense, Jungkook...."

“it makes sense to me,” he says, stepping towards you until he is inches away and you can almost feel the heat between your bodies. “Why does it not make sense to you? You’re clever, aren't you? What’s that theory - every action has an equal and opposite reaction? You like me, and I like you. Equal. Two-ways. Makes perfect sense to me.”

“So… you aren’t just using me for help?” you ask. "You... like me?"

“No, no, I’m not using you for your brain…." he says snarkily before tapping his forehead against yours and letting out a smug laugh. "In fact, I think you’ve been pretty stupid.”

“Stupid?!” you recoil at a word you had never been called before.

“I said pretty stupid. And by that, I mean stupid pretty - in that you're unbelievably attractive - but also pretty kind of stupid, yes. You’re smarter than this, usually…." Jungkook envelops his arms around your waist once again, trapping you. Stunned, all you're able to do is look into his eyes as he goes on.

"Y/N, I want you to think for a second… Did I really need all that help I asked for? Did I really make it onto the Dean's List when I was supposedly doing that badly? Did I really not understand? Did I really need to sit beside you while we both worked? You said it yourself, I'm among the smartest kids in this school. I’ll let you in on a secret… sometimes I used to finish up my work before you and just played mini-games on the computer.”

Jungkook's hands find your face, pushing back a strand of your hair and giggling at what must've been a puzzled look on your face. When your gaze wanders in realization, trying to put all the pieces together, his hand cups your face, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“Sure, you helped me a little bit, but it was... heaven getting you to explain things to me, especially the things I already knew. It meant I could just spend my time staring at you, getting all passionate and excited. Do you know how wide you smile when I act like I 'get it'? Or whenever I actually do. It's why I keep asking you to repeat it - I can never retain any of the new information because all my brain wants to focus on is you.

For God's sake, ask Taehyung and Jimin. Ask them how much I talk about you. Did you ever actually listen to what they say when they specifically see us together in here?"

"I assumed they were making fun of you," you mumble.

Jungkook scoffs. "Yeah, no, Y/N. They tease me for having the guts to fight but not to confess, they kept trying to pressure me to do so."

It's hard to remember that Jungkook was a trained fighter when his embrace felt so safe, you think, staring at his torso in disbelief.

"Still don't believe me? Ask Mr. P how we got assigned together for that paper.”

The sentence stuns you to your core more than anything, jerking your head up to face him.

“I never needed that much help. I just… I wanted to spend time with the girl I'd had a crush on since I got here and didn’t know how to. I like you…. I always have…. idiot,” he says, pulling you closer to him until his lips meet yours in another kiss.

Just this once, you were euphoric to be so stupid.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Can we take a moment and talk about

Miguel, Hobie, and the Black!Reader

a.k.a Black Men aren't the only one who date black women so why are there only Black!Readers for black characters????

Don't think anyone has said it but I would like to see Miguel with some Black readers/Black OCs.

Like, I wanna see Miguel with a Boujee black woman, a loud one, a meek one, a stallion, a petite one-

I just wanna see Miguel x Black!Readers and Miguel x Black!OCs.

Black people are everywhere, in every fandom.

So black readers should be giving rep everywhere - not just with radical black characters like Hobie

Black women and black people in general IRL have our features demonized or looked down upon. In media, in the beauty industry, the fashion industry, hair industry, you name it. Our skin tones are 'too dark' to match well with makeup, our bodies too curvy or different, or hair too thick and hard to manage.

I think having characters openly express interest in them is radical - whether the character themselves are black or not.

The reason the Black Representation within Hobie romance fics stands out so much because every other character LACKS that.

In almost every other x reader fandom, black people and our features are ignored and erased for 'sweeter' things like blushing or 'running their fingers through your hair'

Like... Why can't there be a fic where Miguel compliments his Black partners hair. Or tries soul food?

You don't have to be a radical leftist like Hobie to find black people attractive.

So there's no reason for black!Reader to be confined to Hobie - or black characters at all.

You can write Dean Winchester with a Black!Reader. Or Sherlock Holmes, or Hobie Brown, or Miguel O'Hara.

Attraction to black people is so often seen as a fetish - that most white people and white characters never openly exhibit admiration or love towards black features and culture. They'd rather push us and our differences aside because acknowledging them and their beauty makes people uncomfortable. But those same characters will always 100% be implied to find white women attractive.

And in the Superhero Movie Sphere it's even worse.

ie. It's VERY VERY rare you will find Tony Stark with a Black woman.

The large majority of the women you see with Tony Stark early in the movies are WHITE. The ones he's taking to at galas and playing roulette in front of and kicking out after one night stands - White and blonde. If he sleeps with them - white and blonde.

And that's fine in the general population - a nonblack man who 'loves women' and loves sex just... not being seen with black women at all.

But if Tony Stark went two movies sleeping with only women that aren't white - uh-oh!! That draws attention!!

It's completely okay and not a fetish to be super attracted to white features in isolation, but if you take interest in non-white features without validating white women in the same breath then you're nasty and a fetishist and a racist.

Another example - Batman.

Zoe Kravitz was the first time we've seen Batman openly go after a black woman since maybe Eartha Kitt in 1967 - OVER 50 years apart

In the Christian Bale movies - he never flirts with black women. This classy, smooth Bruce Wayne isn't seen interacting with them. I mean... Why? Does he not like them? Or are the all the black people in Gotham just too poor to be around him to begin with?

????????? That don't add up. But that's how most characters are.

If a nonblack male character is shown in a relationship with a woman - the chances of that woman being cast as a black woman hits the FLOOR.

Their first choice is almost always white.

And the saddest thing is

Spider-Man is the biggest example of black erasure in romance and the effects it causes.

That's why when Zendaya got cast as MJ - it was a problem.

Because before then, during the 70 semi years of Peter Parker's existence - he was never shown on screen being attracted to black women in any capacity.

Betty, Gwen, Felicia, MJ - all white. In the cartoons, white. In the remake, white. Silk is probably one of - if not the - first POC we see Peter with. And they don't date, they've never been shown on screen, and over the past years Cindy has had a better written relationship with Felicia than she ever had with Peter.

For half a century we were conditioned to believe that Peter Parker dated white women with no representation or deviation.

Back in 2016 when TASM series was coming out, if you were a black reader who wanted to see yourself represented in any way or capacity on screen or in Fandom - good luck.

We're use to seeing these very romantically forward guys never flirting or fucking or dating black women. We're conditioned to accept this as normal.

It takes a genuine toll.

That's why when I was younger, I use to feel so insecure. Wondering if my favorite characters or celebrities would even find me slightly attractive. The idea that my favorite character wouldn't find me attractive because they've never been seen with a Black partner or interest ever not even once in passing hurts.

As a teen I just accepted that these characters 'Don't like black people' and can't find them attractive in that capacity. Because I mean, I have no reason to think they do - when most nonblack characters won't even look at a black female character for longer than 5 seconds.

Growing up I just accepted that these characters and the fandom as a whole did not see anything beautiful about me because of my race.

That's why Black readers should be more widespread.

We should be telling people that non-black men finding black women attractive is NORMAL.

I read SO many fics of black characters and go 'okay but they wrote reader as white.'

I have NEVER read a fic of a non-black character and gone 'okay they wrote the reader as Black'

Y'all.... You can write interracial relationships with characters that aren't black.

Interracial Relationships are not a special magic tool you can use to pair black characters up with non-black readers. Interracial Relationships go both ways.

If you're down for writing Hobie x NonBlack!Reader and writing an interracial relationship there - why are y'all not down for Miguel x Black!Reader?

Why are interracial relationships good when the black man experiences attraction outside his race towards nonblack people - but bad/unlikely when the nonblack man experiences attraction outside his race towards black people?

'Hobie loves everyone' Okay, Miguel would too. But I don't see the 'Hobie Loves' people rushing and pushing for inclusion in the Miguel tag. They don't care if fanwriters show Miguel 'loving everyone'.

They don't go -

'Miguel loves latinas, Miguel loves black women' in Miguel's tag.

Even though nonblack men experience attraction towards black people and black women everyday across the world.

Some are even married to us - can you believe it??

In conclusion - More Miguel x Black!Reader. More Miguel x Black!OC.

Give Miguel AfroLatino Babies!!!!

Give Miguel O'Hara a Nigerian Wife so help me God

Anyway - Big up @hrhmimieucliffe and their AMAZING Black OC Giselle, who has a ~thing~ ;) with Miguel (they are v cute!!)

More Miguel x Black!Reader. More Miguel with Black! OCs. I want a Miguel that likes his women like he likes his milkshakes - tall, sweet, thicc as fuck, and FULL OF CHOCOLATE

And once again, that's on WHAT!!!!

[hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog]

Tell me about Dean falling in love with a girl who has long covid - maybe they met when he saved her from a monster and they became friends, she occasionally helps him with research or patches him up if he gets hurt. He doesn’t hear from her for a while, and when he goes to check on her, he finds out she’s in the hospital with Covid - a monster he can’t save her from. He realizes he loves her, but may lose her. After she gets out he keeps coming to check on her because he knows she tires easily/has trouble breathing at times.

@deans-spinster-witch thank you for this ask. Actually thank you all that submit asks or sent me story prompts, I am going to get to them all, but I thought this one would be a good place to start.

First let me start off with my disclaimers:

1) I haven't see the last few seasons of SPN, so I don't know how they addressed COVID, if they did at all. So think of it as alternative timeline, not really canon.

2) My COVID representation is probably not 100% accurate, either by the reader symptoms or that I don't mention Dean wearing a mask or that he was able to be in the hospital with the reader.

3) I just POV and I think I may have jump from 2nd to 3rd person writing? I did my best to correct it, but sometimes I can't seem to correct it. Also did my best with editing, but I am sure I missed something. Flashbacks are bold italic and internal thoughts are just italic.

4) I am not sure if this is 100% what you were looking for. It does end on a cliffhanger, so I will be posting a second part. It was getting hella long coming in at 7,500 words. 😬 sorry.

5) swearing, hints of past trauma that we may get more in the second part. Self doubt/hate. Angst heavy!

Okay think that's it. It's a Y/N x Dean focus story with Sam making an appearance via phone. Characters are not mine but the work is. So please don't post as your own.

Feel free to like, reblog, send me feedback in the comments. And if you have a story idea, send it my way via asks or message. Or if you want me to tag you on my work let me know.

Okay think I have stalled long enough. Here it is, my first story back from 3 year break.

JUST BREATHE-



"Excuse me, sir, you can't be up here." A female voice, strong, laced with exhaustion, mixes with the sounds of the hospital. Doctors are being paged, staff are going in and out of rooms, and machines are monitoring patients. All of it, white noise, too, Dean. Because he can't look away or tear his eyes from what is in front of him. Y/N is lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to a ventilator. What happened? How did it come on so strong and so fast? He had just seen you last week when he came through town on his way to his next hunt. Picking up research that you had done for him since Sam was working on another case in California. You were the best…no, are, you are the best researcher he knows…you have to get better; you can't…

"Sir! I will have to ask you to leave if you're not family. The ICU is only for families." The female voce, insistent on getting him to pay attention to her. Tired, she was just so damn tired of no one listing to her today; she had better things to do than police people about.

"How long has she been here?" Dean asks, his voice firm but slightly wavering. He can't look away, watching as the vent goes up and down, breathing for you. Y/N, come on, you have to pull through; I can't lose you, Dean thinks, trying his best not to break. He prayed to God if he thought it would help if he thought the ass would be listing.

"Sir, I can't give that information if you're not family." Dean looks away from you for a moment, noticing the nurse standing beside him. She is dressed in blue scrubs, her hair pulled back, and a mask on. He can tell she is on her last nerve with him, and he has to win her over. He can't leave you, not now. "So, are you family?" she asks again.

"Umm…" He knew he needed to lie. If he told her that you were just a friend, he would never get answers and would never get back to this floor again. It was dumb luck that he could get your room number out of the receptionist downstairs. He pulled himself together to give her his winning smile and wink. "She's my sister." Clearing his throat, he looked back to you.

The nurse looks down at the chart in her hand. "Miss. Moore didn't have a brother listed as next of kin, but then again, a neighbor brought her in." Looking back up to Dean, he doesn't respond. "How about we go somewhere a little more private to discuss your sister's condition?" She lightly grabs Dean by the shoulder and turns him away from the window and you.

********

Dean did his best to listen to the nurse, but all he really wanted to do was get back to you. It was driving him crazy that he couldn't do anything; this wasn't caused by a demon, monster, or anything in his wheelhouse. You were brought in about a day or two after he had seen you. Your neighbor had come over to borrow something and saw you in the window, passed out on the floor. COVID had hit you hard, and you just couldn't shake it; your lungs filled up so fast with fluids that you passed out.

That was a week ago; you had been in the hospital for a week and on a ventilator. The doctors feel that your body just needs time to fight off the infection.

"She seemed fine when I saw her last; how could this happen?" Dean questions, trying to be as respectful as possible without raising his voice and getting kicked out.

"COVID hits everyone differently; we really don't know why. Some people may never get it, and some…" Not finishing her statement, the nurse looks away from Dean.

"Can I go back and sit with her?" Dean asks, more like pleading with her. He just wants to ensure you're doing alright and stand watch until you wake up. He doesn't know what else to do.

"I am sorry, but no," the nurse replies as kindly as possible. Seeing that he will protest this, she quickly adds, "But, you can come back during visiting hours. You won't be able to go in the room; we have to keep it clean because of COVID, but you can see her from the window." Hoping this will be a compromise he can live with. She doesn't want him to get upset and have to call security and have him escorted out. She can tell he cares for her and is scared.

Dean will take it; he knows he has to. You're the strongest person he knows. You will get through this; you have to. "Alright, I guess I will come back then," Dean says, getting up from the table.

********

Walking out of the hospital, Dean calls Sam to tell him what is happening and that he wasn't leaving until you were back home. Screw the world, let the monsters run amuck, and let demons rain hell on earth; he had more important things to do. "I don't care, Sammy, I am not leaving again. This is the only number you can reach me at, and only you," he says, getting into the Impala and firing it up.

"Alright, Dean. I hear you. Do you want me to come? I am almost done here." Sam offers, knowing that Dean won't take him up on it.

"No, I am good, but thanks. You stay on the West Coast until the world calms itself down." Letting the engine run for a bit, Dean takes a second. This has been the longest they have been working apart. It's been hard on both of them, but at least Dean has you to talk to. He has been leaning on you more since Sam was in California. Could Dean have caused this? Was he asking too much of you?

"Dean, hey, you still there?" Sam breaks through his intrusive thoughts.

Clearing his voice, "Yeah."

"You know, she will get through this. She's going to be okay," Sam says, trying his best to reassure him and get him out of his head because even if they are miles apart, he knows his brother. Dean is blaming himself right now for something that he can't control.

“Yeah, I know… I just… what if I…..”

"No, don't think like that, and don't think you had anything to do with this happening." Sam quips back, knowing where his brother's thoughts are going, and he will not have him spiraling out.

"But I ask so much of her. You know she will never say no. Even when she has other things to do, she always drops everything when I ask for a favor. God, I am such a user…"

"No, you're not. Y/N is strong, and she said she would tell you if she didn't want to do something. She wants to help; she thrives on researching this stuff, and you know it." Sam states, "Come on, you know she would rather research lore or listen to one of your 'tales from the front lines,' as she likes to call them, any day of the week."

The thought of you saying these words to him as you patch him up, 'Alright, Dean, what tales to do we have this time?' or how your voice would be giddy when he called you about a case he found. "Yeah, you're right, Sam," Dean replies. Feeling a bit better after talking with Sam, he always knows how to keep him from spiraling too much.

"I know I am; now go get some rest. She's going to need you when she wakes up."

"Night brother"

After hanging up the phone, Dean didn't want to go to a hotel or bar, but he was now wired and needed to do something. Pulling out of the parking lot was second nature, and he found his way to your driveway.

Sitting there, looking at the modest, two-bedroom, two-bath house, he would consider a second home for as much time as he has spent there. It was odd to think about walking through that door and you not being there. When getting out of the car, the sound of the door opening and closing is the only noise that breaks up the silence of the night. Taking a few steps, Dean stops himself from knocking like he usually does. Habit, he thinks. Pulling his keys out, he flips until he finds the one for your house.

It was an argument you had won, not that he didn't want a key. Of course, he did, but he didn't want it to fall into the wrong hands should something happen.

"No, I don't need a key, Y/N," Dean protest, not wanting to have this conversation right now.

"Yes, you do; now take it." You say, holding out the key for him to take.

"I don't need it; you're always here. Why would I need to get into your place when you're not here?" he questions. Finishing off his beer, he gets up from the couch and heads toward the kitchen. "You want another one?" he asks, trying to change the subject.

You get up and follow him. "Don't change the subject, Winchester," you say, following him and sitting on a kitchen stool. What if I wasn't home tonight?"

Tossing the empty bottle in the recycle bin and turning to face her, he can tell by the severe look on your face that this is an argument that he won't win. But why make it easy on you. "But you were," giving you a smirk, he opens the fridge to pull out two more bottles. "Besides, where would you be on a Friday night? You have a hot date I don't know about?" he questions. Handing one of the bottles to you.

He struggles slightly to open the bottle with his left hand since his right is currently in a sling. After putting his shoulder back into place and stitching him up, you open the beer in your hand, hand it to him, and take the other one from him. "Maybe," you say cryptically, a twinkle in your eyes.

"Really? Didn't know you were dating anyone?" Dean is slightly put off by this. It's not that someone would want to date you; it's the opposite. You're beautiful, and he always wonders how you were still single after all this time. Intelligent and funny, any guy would be lucky to call you his. Heck, he would like to call you his.

"I am not," you say, putting him out of his misery and his slight spiral of another guy touching her, kissing her… But I could still be out. Do you want to be sitting out in your car waiting for me to get home?" you question, pushing the key towards him. "Just take the dam key. It's only a key. I am not asking you to move in with me."

If you asked him that, he would say yes in a heartbeat. But the reality of his life, what he and Sam do for a living, gives him pause to take the key. "I just don't want anyone else to get their hands on it."

"Who, like Sam? Of course, you can give a copy to Sam." You joke, knowing what he's getting at but trying your best to keep this conversation light.

"No, not Sam. I am thinking Crowley, another demon or monster, or worse, Lucifer. I would hate for anyone other than Sam or me to get their hands on this and come after you."

"Dean, that's not going to happen."

"But it could, you know it could."

Letting out a sigh, you decide to pull out the big guns to get him to take this damn key. "A key is not their first choice to get in. You have put up all the wards you could think of." You say, proving that you are as safe as possible. "Heck, you made me even get this thing." Snapping off your leather bracelet to show off the anti-possession tattoo. "and you know how much I hate needles." The black tattoo shows nicely against your light skin and hides the other barely visible scars.

"Yeah, I found out real quick that day. I think I still have scars on my arm from you digging your nails in," he jokes, bringing his hand up to his wrist to run his fingers around the tattoo and the scars he knows are there.

"Haha, that's real funny." You fake laugh. " Just take it, please. It will make me feel better if you have it." You do your best puppy dog eyes as you push the key closer to him.

Dean takes a moment before caving. "Alright, but I am only going to use it for emergencies." he conceits, taking his keys out and putting your house key on the ring with the rest.

Getting up from the stool, you smile at him, "Thank you, Dean," you say sweetly and hug him.

**

Dean shakes his head, trying to shake the thoughts from that night, as he shuts the door behind him. He stood in the entryway, just taking in the quietness of the house, holding his breath, waiting for you to come down the hallway, saying, ‘Dean, you look like shit; what were you up against this time? Let me get you patched up, and you can tell me all about it.’ Guiding him to the kitchen, you would pull the first aid kit and a beer from the fridge.

Watching these memories play out in front of him, it's not until he lets out a shaky breath that he had been holding that he feels the tears run down his face, "Fuck! Y/N, you got to get better, okay…." choking back, "I can't lose you." The thought of losing another important person in his life. Someone who should have a happy and long life and who, without them, Dean wouldn't be standing here today. He owes everything to you.

Dean can't bring himself to step past the entryway, feeling like an intruder. "I can't…" feeling pressure in his chest, he turns and walks out the door. Locking the door and making the short walk to his car, the pressure subsides once he is in the driving seat. Knowing he can't stay in the house. Too many memories of you and his dark thoughts will keep him up. He also can't put the car in drive and go to the motel just outside of town. It's like his body won't let him leave.

*******

Y/N POV

You were in the hospital for two weeks, and Dean was by your side, or somewhat outside your hospital room, every day, every hour he could be. At least that is what the nurse told you once you were awake. Your 'brother' Dean has been by your side. The first time they told you this, you looked confused, which caused concern from the staff.

"Your brother, Dean," the nurse says again, her voice laced with concern as she points to the window that looks into your room from the hallway.

You turn your head slightly, your body stiff from being in bed for so long, and the breathing tube just being taken out. There you see him, Dean Winchester, raising his hand to give you a short wave, and a look of relief washes over his face, which is covered with a slightly heavy five-clock shadow. You give him a smile and look back at the nurse. "Yeah, sorry, of course, he's my brother. Just didn't know anyone called him?" you reply, "Can I have some water?" you ask, you're throat feeling like sandpaper.

"Sure," the nurse says, filling a cup and handing it to you. "Well, the doctor will be in soon," she says, giving you a short smile and walking towards the door.

"Umm, can my brother come in?" you ask. Knowing that no matter what she says, Dean will make it in here one way or the other. The nurse hesitates. "It's just that I would like him to hear what the doctor says. I am still groggy, not sure I am going to remember everything he tells me," you add, hoping this will pull on her heartstrings just a bit.

Which does work, "Sure." she replies, giving you a smile and then walking out the door. She briefly talks to Dean before walking away, and Dean enters the room.

"Hey, sweetheart," Dean says, shutting the door behind him and walking towards you.

"Hey yourself," you reply. You try to sit up a bit more, but you struggle a bit.

Dean quickly gets to you. " Here, let me," he says, finding the remote for the bed, setting you upright, and then readjusting your pillows. "Good?" he asks once it looks like you're settled.

Feeling slightly embarrassed that he saw you like this, you’re sure you're a mess, bed hair, hospital gowns, and oh man…your breath has got to stink by now, right? Trying your best not to breathe out, "Yeah, thanks." you quickly reply. Dean sits in the chair next to your bed but doesn't say anything. Okay, guess you will start. "So brother, hum?" you quip.

He smiles at this and looks away from you to the bedding. "Yeah, I had to say something; otherwise, they would never let me back in." Then, looking back at you, a slight panic sets in that you might be mad at him for this small lie. " You're not mad, are you?" he asks.

"No, of course not," you reply, wanting to reassure him that everything is fine. This does, as relief washes over him a second time. You hold out your hand for him to take. "Just wonder what Sam will say about having a little sister, that's all. I am sure he will hate being the middle child," you joke.

Dean gives a short laugh: "Oh, Sammy will be all right with it. He will be happy to hear you're awake, is all." Dean's fingers rubbing your hand back and forth are nice.

"How did you know I was here?" you ask, trying to remember the day before you were brought in, but it's all a blur. Was he coming to see you? Was he working on a case?

"I was coming back through, and you had helped me with the case in North Carolina…" lowering his voice, even though you're in a private room," that Dinji." Dean recounts, seeing you not remember. He continues, "I stopped by your place, and your neighbor was out and said you were in the hospital."

None of that is registering at all, like last month, which is a blank slate. Fuck, what else are you not remembering? "And you have been here this whole time?" you ask, wondering what the state of the world must be like if he has taken himself out of saving the world for two weeks! Is Sam okay?

Dean's eyes, bright green, lock with yours, cocking his head slightly to the side, with slight confusion at your shock that he was here the whole time. "Of course, where else would I be? I wasn't going to leave you alone here," he says, a matter of fact.

You're about to reply to this, ask more questions, ask how Sam is, but before you can, the doctor enters the room. "Miss. Moore, welcome back," he says, looking at your chart and then at you and Dean. And this must be your brother?" he asks, holding his hand for Dean to shake.

Dean does, letting go of yours, the loss of him, his touch is apparent. "Hey, doc, when can I take my sister home?" Dean asks.

The doctor starts to talk, but you're not listening; your mind drifts to Dean. He put his life on pause for you? Wow, that's something, but you're sure he would do it for Charlie, Jody, Claire, or Alex, right? Yeah, of course. Dean sees you as family, which is what you are to him; that's what you will always be. Yes, you were close. He and Sam saved you from the vampire nest, explained everything about their world, and gave you a purpose.

You feel a slight pressure in your chest. Now that you're awake, how long will he stay before he leaves again?

"So I will get the nurse to start the discharge paperwork, and you guys should be out of there in a few hours," the doctor says. Giving you a smile.

Not hearing anything but that, you just smile back and look towards the window. You hear Dean thank the doctor, and he leaves the room. "nice guy," Dean says, filling up the silence.

"Yeah," you reply. You’re not sure what you are feeling; it's almost like a weight on your chest, pressure. Maybe it is COVID; it will be better once you get home. It has to, right?

******

You didn't know Dean could fuss over you more if he tried. He insisted that he be the one to wheel you out of the hospital, only after he made sure the car was pulled up as close to the door as possible so you didn't have to walk too far. Then, when he pulled into your driveway, he insisted he carry you the short walk to the front door.

"No, Dean, I can walk. My legs aren't broken; I had COVID, that's all." you quip back as he comes over to your side of the car to pick you up.

"The doctor said you shouldn’t over-exaggerate yourself, that's all," he replies, trying again to wrap his arms around your waist and pick you up from standing against the closed car door.

You block his hands again. As much as you would like his arms around you, have him cradle you; where is this coming from? You also don't want him to hurt himself, or God forbid the neighbors see him carrying you bridle style. "Yeah, walking the three feet to my front door is not going to kill me." This comment is like a punch in the gut for Dean; it's written on his face. Shit, was my COVID scare that much of an effect on him? But why? Trying to write your wrong, you try to play it off. "Come on, man, I have been on my back for two weeks and must move a little bit." You quip back. Playfully pushing him aside and walking towards the door.

You get to the door but realize you don't have your keys, you didn't have those, or your phone when you were brought into the hospital. You wait for Dean to come up behind you. He doesn't say anything, pulling out his keys; he opens the door and lets you walk in first. You shuck off your jacket and shoes and go to the living room. Sitting on the couch, you try to hide the sigh of exhaustions that you feel from the small activities you just did; but it slips past your lips and is not lost on Dean.

"Want me to make you some tea? You hungry?" Dean asks.

"No, I want you to tell me what's happened since I was in the hospital. Did all the evil in the world decide to take a break while I was out, and that's how you got to have some time off?" you question, motioning him to sit next to you on the couch.

Dean shrugs at this, "No. I just told Sam I was taking myself off the board, is all." he says casually.

"Taking yourself off the board? Hum, I didn't know you guys could do that," you ask, Giving him an intuitive look.

Dean is giving you nothing back, shaking his head, looking around the room, and clapping his hands together. He points towards the kitchen, "I am going to make that tea for you." He walks away before you can stop him, leaving you to your thoughts. Something else is happening, and you know who to call to get the truth out.

******

Making that call seem more complicated than usual since Dean didn't leave your side for anything. Three days, three days of hovering and mothering you, and as much as you care for Dean, and possibly secretly loved him. Let's face it, those chest tightening pains at the hospital, the loss of his touch was not COVID symptoms, it was your heart telling you what you already knew. You were in love with Dean Winchester, and the fact that he dropped everything for you made your head spin and feel like the most important girl in the world. But you are a realist, and Dean Winchester is out of your league. He sees you as the little sister he got settled with, not the girl he wants to kiss and do other things with.

On top of that, you are sure his opinions of you drop a few points since you found out really quick that to pass the time while he waited for you to wake up, he decided to clean your house from top to bottom. The sheer embarrassment when you found out had you want the couch to swallow you up right there. "Excuse me, you did what?" you ask, thinking you didn't hear him right when you ask; the following day, a book you usually had on your coffee table was now on the bookshelf that it was never on.

"I did some cleaning while you were…" Dean says, not finishing that statement while he grabs the few dishes off the coffee table and heads towards the kitchen. He never finishes that statement. Whenever he says it, he never says 'when you were in the hospital' or 'when you were sick.' After three days of the hanging statement, you get frustrated over that.

But knowing he cleaned your house, how clean is clean? Did he do your laundry? Yep! Did he clean under your bed and put stuff away on your nightstand? God forbid he did a deep clean in your closet—oh, the embarrassment. "Why?" you ask, now following him, waiting for an answer that you sure won't come.

Dean has his back to you, rinsing off the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. "What? It's not a big deal. I had time, plus the nurse thought it was a good idea for you to come home to a clean hose." He says while wiping down the counter.

You try your best to breathe and calm down. Yes, all that is true, a clean house to come home too make sense. But having him go through your personal and private things, fuck, him cleaning your underwear. He will never look at you as desirable again, not like he did before. You look up from the floor to see him watching you, waiting for a reply. "thanks, I guess," you say, defeated. "I am going to go take a shower." You say, needing just a few minutes by yourself, shake off this feeling of rejection you know he doesn't realize he caused.

"You need some help?" he asks, approaching you and walking a step behind you.

You take a second, knowing again that he just wants to help, but God treats you like an old woman. Because you know that his offer of 'helping you out' in the shower does not imply sexy times; it's he saying he thinks you are weak and that you're going to get tired, fall, and hurt yourself. You get to the bathroom door. "No, I got it, thanks," you say, opening the door and shutting it before he can say anything.

*****

Dean POV

I know I am being overprotective, maybe even going overboard with not letting her do anything, and perhaps the deep clean was an overreach. But in my defense, I thought I could lose her, and if she was going to, no, when she was going to come home, I wanted it to be in a clean, COVID-free house.

I turn away from the bathroom door and walk towards the living room. I start to clean up, picking up the discarded blanket from my makeshift bed; even though she has a spare room, it's on the second floor away from her, and I want to be close in case she needs me in the night.

The rigging of my phone pulls me from my thoughts of her. Picking up, I see it's Sam. "Hey, what's up?" I ask, dropping the blanket and myself onto the couch.

"Just checking in, how's Y/N?"

"Good, still low energy, but I am just happy she’s walking and talking, even if I am annoying her."

"You, annoying her, I can't believe it," Sam says, with fake shock. "You know she can take care of herself; she has been doing that for some time now." Sam reminds me. Knowing that my hovering is coming for a place of love for Y/N, but it could be doing more damage than good.

"I know, it's just…" I pause briefly, looking back to see the closed bathroom door. "Sam, she just looked so helpless there lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to those machines…and there was nothing I could do…nothing that could save her…I just had to wait."

Sam knows that's not my strong suit, "I know, I get it, but maybe just ease off a little. I am sure it's making her feel like a burden, you doing everything for her."

"Yeah, you're probably right. I will try."

"I know I am." He clears his throat and paused briefly before asking what he knew I would not want to answer: "So when are you heading back to the bunker?"

I pause momentarily; the idea of leaving you hadn't crossed his mind. "Umm…" Hearing the door open, he looks to see you walking out of the bathroom and down the hallway to your room, wrapped in your navy-blue plaid robe, hair slightly damp from the shower. "Not sure yet, but I will keep you posted. I got to go." I say quickly, hanging up the phone. I know that she can take care of herself, but at the same time, I don't want to leave her again; what if I do and something happens, and there is no one here to save her again. Sam's right, though; I have to back off, or I am liable to smother her.

*****

Y/N POV (about a week later)

Something seems to have changed in Dean in the last few days. It was like the old carefree Dean was back. He hovered less, not watching my every move, and even went on a quick day trip to the bunker to pick up more books for me to read since I had read everything in my place twice, and if I was going to be stuck inside I wanted to do something productive. Granted, I had to ride shotgun on this trip, so although we got out of the house, I was still under his protective eye. But he wasn't babying me anymore; he cracked jokes, smiled, and even complained when I made him watch the same movie repeatedly.

Dean was going on a food run, and this was one outing he didn't let me go on. Too many people, could possibly get sick again, so he didn't want to risk it. But he also hated doing it, leaving you alone. "You're sure you're going to be fine," he asks again, standing in the doorway, you on the other side, trying your best not to push him out and lock the door.

"Yes, Dean, you'll be gone for an hour. I think I can survive." you quip, pushing him playfully, "Go, I promise, no running around the house with scissors or jumping on the bed. I will keep my butt on the couch until you get back."

Dean's worried face slightly softens, knowing that you will be fine, but that pit in his stomach—the thought of him walking out that door again and not having you in his sight—will never go away. "Okay, but call me if you feel off," he reminds you again.

"Yes, now go." You reply with a smile. Yes, he was getting on your nerves slightly, but you still loved the guy for it.

You watch as he pulls out of the driveway and down the road before you head inside. Walking to your room, you find your cell phone charging, and you quickly make the call you've been waiting to make since you got home.

He picked up on the second ring: "Y/N, everything alright? Dean texted me to say he was going on a food run. Do you need him? Are you not feeling well?…" Sam blurts out, a lengthy, run-on statement that has you slightly spinning.

Trying your best not to laugh at him. "Sam, calm down; I am good. I just wanted to talk to my friend. How are you?" you ask, wanting to ease into this discussion. Plus, you really did want to know how he was doing; ever since you came home, you only talked to Sam when Dean would call him and have him on speakerphone. Even then, Sam was instructed not to speak about cases he was working on. Dean had a theory that possibly COVID was stress-induced, but you know it wasn't.

"I am good, making my way back to the bunker. I have a case in Wisconsin, so I'm in your area. I was thinking of seeing you guys once it's done."

"Oh yes, please do, Sam. It's been ages since we've hung out together. I feel like a movie marathon is needed."

"Yeah, if you're up for it. Dean tells me you get tired easily. Is anything else not the same?"

"Umm…brain fog for sure; I lost all memory of the week before I went into the hospital. Some things don't taste the same. But honestly, Sam, can we not talk about me for a bit. Tell me about the case in Wisconsin; what are you hunting this time." You inquire, done talking about yourself, need a distraction, and avoid asking Sam what you want to know.

Sam, being the best friend, a girl could ask for, knew that a distraction from your symptoms was what you needed, and although it would be breaking his promise to Dean, he could hear it in your voice, the need for some kind of normalcy, at least what normal is considered for us. Giving you all the details, you can come to the same conclusion that it was a vengeful spirit and a simple salt and burn job is in order.

Once Sam is done talking about Wisconsin, a lull in the conversation forms, and you look at the clock to see Dean should be home soon. "Sam, can I ask you something?" You feel slightly nervous and try to figure out how to phrase your question.

"Of course, you can ask me anything."

Taking a breath, you wait a second before asking, "How was Dean when he found out I was sick? He said he 'took himself off the board' and has been hovering since I got home. He's gotten better, but those first few days, it was like he was a different person."

Sam can tell by the last statement that you're trying to bring some levity to an otherwise heavy question, a question that he is surprised you have to ask. taking a breath, he thinks about how to say, ‘You idiot, he loves you! and you love him!'

"I am glad to hear that he's lost up the reins a bit," giving a chuckle, "but honestly, Y/N, he was devastated. I know he's my big brother, and he tries his best to hide his emotions, but I could tell that night when he called to tell me what happened, he was scared. Scared that he was going to lose you, scared that he might have caused this to happen to you."

"How could he have caused COVID? I mean, I get he sometimes can have a big ego, but, come on, he can't cause an infection."

"No, but he thinks he has been asking too much of you, wearing you down. I can't say whether he's right or wrong. You and I know you occasionally burn the candle at both ends."

"Yeah, I am trying to get better at that. But Sam, he was treating me like I was 90 years old. He wouldn't let me do a thing around here. And did he tell you he cleaned my house—my whole house—before I got home? I mean everything."

"Oh man, I am sure you were not happy to hear about that."

"Your damn right. I wasn't."

"Look, it's not my place to say, but I will tell you this, remember that night when you and I got a little tipsy, and you might have let slip your feelings for a certain green eye hunter?"

Fuck, of course, he remembers that night; that was right after you had helped him and Dean take down a wraith, and Dean was out on a beer run. "Yeah, you asked me why I never seem to be dating anyone, and I said I can't be with the one guy I want, so why be with the wrong guy at all."

Sam waits for you to connect the dots, and although you're not sitting in front of him, Sam has a feeling you're making the connections: "Let's just say Dean has the same idea, and he has his eye on a hazel eye researcher that he thinks he can't have."

You're about to protest Sam's statement that Dean has no feelings for you other than sibling love, but before you can, you hear the front door open and Dean yelling, "Honey, I am home," sweetly.

"I've Got to go, Sam. Talk soon," you say, and hang up before he can reply.

*********

Sam's words kept rolling around in your mind all night, distracting you from Dean. During dinner, you were quiet, letting him lead the conversation and not making it known when he mentioned Sam might be stopping by in a day or two that you two had talked earlier. "Oh, okay, sounds good." you responded, still thinking, 'He has his eye on a hazel-eye researcher that he thinks he can't have.'

Dean went for girls that were the complete opposite of you, blonde, curves in all the right places without an ounce of fat to be seen, the girl that guys walk across fire for, not the girl that they run into fire to get away from. Not the girl who is socially awkward around strangers, who can put her foot in her mouth easier than anyone, and who has more of a backstory than is worth mentioning. No, Dean goes for simple, noncomplex girls, which makes sense, given his life is entirely of danger and complexity. Why go for a girl to add to it.

Dean can tell your mind is elsewhere, and he is slightly worried that you're lost in your head or that this might be another symptom. "Hey, space cadet, you with me? Because if you're not watching the movie, I will gladly turn it to something we haven't seen twice this week," he jokes, hoping to make fun of the situation.

His voice shakes you from your thoughts, and you look over at him; his eyes have just a hint of worry to them. The blanket across both of you, him in a simple white t-shirt and sleep bottoms, you in gray leggings, tank top, and open cardigan. Perfection, you and Dean cozy up on the couch, not a care in the world, him teasing you about your love of disaster movies, and you forcing him to watch the same one repeatedly, and he does; why? Because he loves you. He loves you like a sister, a friend, someone he cares for, just not someone he’s IN love with.

"yeah, sorry, I think I am just going to go to bed." You shake off that last statement: he's not IN love with you. God, you really know how to cut yourself deep, don't you? Getting up from the couch, you grab your water glass and head towards your room.

Dean gets up with you, "here, let me help you," he says, walking around the couch and placing a hand on your lower back.

This is the last straw, the final statement of his wanting to help you, again treating you like you're helpless. "Stop! Just stop!" you yell, feeling yourself boil with rage you knew you had been keeping at bay. You know his hovering is with the best intentions, but for you, it's blurring the lines between what you want from him and what you know he can give you. Your mind won't let it be accurate even after what Sam told you today.

Dean stops his hands from touching you, standing still like he is frozen in time. "Y/N, hey, I just want to help. You look tired, is all." His voice is soft and sweet.

He’s trying to placate you, like he would a child or grandparent, "Dean, I am fine; I can walk ten feet to my room on my own and not get lost or fall down, okay!" You lock eyes with him and see his face fall, and in that moment, you know that he's hurt; you've only ever yelled at him when you were injured and need him to find you. But that was screaming for him, not at him. You know that you should feel bad for your outburst, you do, but you know that this is not real, that this ideal version of him and you playing house can't last.

"What is wrong? Is this another symptom? Did something happen while I was out?" he asks, wanting to understand your sudden change since this morning. You start walking away from him, wanting to get into your room and away from him, knowing he will get the truth out of you. You don't want to hear his excuses or him placate you even more about why he and you will never be a thing.

You turn halfway down the hall to look back at him, standing there watching you. "No! It's not! I am a capable woman who can take care of herself. Stop treating me like I am dying, Dean! You saved me once; that should be enough for you." Turning back, you reach your door, hand on the handle to open it, when you hear Dean.

"What does that mean?" Dean questions, his footsteps pad against the hardwood floors, standing right behind you; you can feel his breath on your neck, "I know you are capable; you are the strongest woman I know." his voice low, sending shivers down your body, you feel his hand on your arm, turning you around to face him. He sees your tear-stain cheek, "Fuck, Y/N, talk to me; what is going on? Why would you say saving you once was enough?"

Your eyes, trying and failing to hold back the tears, are now on the brink of spilling out. He needs to just let you go. You lean back against the door, knowing he took that little movement as exhaustion, and you are. You are exhausted by talking about this repeatedly, tired that he just can't let you leave, won't give up, and will go back to seeing you only when he needs something. He needs to go back to his life and let you put him back into the box of things that you don't let yourself have. Taking a breath, you run your hands over your face, wiping the tears and pushing them back inside. Putting on your brave face, "You know, Sam will be here in two days. I think you should go back with him. Go back to the bunker, and 'put yourself back on the board.'"

Throwing his line back at him, telling him he needed to return to work and that you would be fine without him. Will you, though? In time, maybe? You turned the door handle and stepped into the room, never breaking your eye contact with him. He shut the door in his face and flipped the lock, not giving him a chance to speak, knowing that he would not force his way in.

To be continued

[elizabethwritesmen]

Notice - Part 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Curvy!Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, Mature Themes, Self deprecation on both sides, Body image issues, Self hatred, Angst (That's basically all this chapter is sorry love you guys), Slow burn, Mutual Pining

Summary: Dean is gone. Until he's not.

Word Count:

AN: Hey guys! I'm so sorry it took so long for me to put this out. This past (almost) year has been ridiculous, and I haven't had much time to even think about writing. But I'm back at it now with lots of fresh ideas and chapters! And I snuck in a little something as an official apology (;.

The next chapter will be the last, and I might do a short epilogue.

Thanks so much for the continued support and enjoy!

╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

She pined after Dean left, just as she knew she would.

Every time she saw a man that looked like him at a bar, or a store, or anywhere, she fought the urge to say something. She knew deep down, though, that if Dean ever came back, she's the first person that would find out. He would knock on her door and let her know how long he was staying for, and maybe he would even spare her a kiss this time before disappearing.

She waited for that knock. A month passed and she waited, then two, then three. Eventually she grew cynical, her inner demons possessing her and her insecurities winning.

"Come on, Y/N. Please. If you want to wait forever for that guy to come back, more power to you, but can you at least rejoin the human race in the mean time?" Evelyn asked, her voice heavy through the phone speaker.

"I don't know, Evvy. I don't really like the whole bar scene anyway, I never have fun like you guys do."

"Yes, we've been over this. Ashley and I have tons of men all over us and you never have anybody. Did you ever stop to think that maybe that has nothing to do with how you look? Seriously, Y/N. You're hot. But you're quiet, and reserved, and you hang out in corners and read or peel labels off bottles. It's intimidating and off putting. What you need is to come out with us tonight and let your hair down! Have a good time!"

"I like corners and books and peeling labels," Y/N huffed.

"I know you do, but why don't you just take a break from the norm? You might have a good time, and it'll get your mind off of Dean."

The mention of his name was enough to make her second guess her decision. She did want to forget about him, at least for the night. She wanted to remember what it felt like to be human.

"Okay, fine. But you're driving. Come get me."

Evelyn cheered on the other line and hung up, leaving Y/N to wonder if she'd made the right decision. She shrugged off her doubt and wandered to her closet, picking through clothes until she found an outfit she was happy with.

An hour later, there was a knock on her door. Evelyn and Ashley stood on the other side, both with giddy smiles plastered onto their faces.

"Stop looking at me like that," Y/N furrowed her brows, letting them in and shutting the door behind them.

"Like what?"

"All smiley and weird. You look like the doodle bops. You're creeping me out."

The girls giggled, and Ashley explained, "We're just so happy to see you. It's been so long! It's like you forgot that we're all best friends."

"It hasn't been that long. Besides, I'm sure you guys have more fun without me, I am the lame one."

Evelyn huffed, "No you're not. You're like the coolest of all three of us. You're the funniest, and the smartest. It's not the same without you. We don't even really go out much anymore since you stopped coming with us."

"It's true," Ashley nodded, "You make us whole. I'm glad to have you back."

Y/N was taken aback. She always thought she was extra. She never realized how much she mattered to them.

"And by the way," Evenlyn raised her brows and blatantly checked her out, "You look hot."

Y/N blushed, smoothing out her yellow mini dress. Her white heels complimented it perfectly, and she paired the outfit with assorted gold jewelry and curled hair.

They walked into the bar, and Y/N let out a sigh when she noticed how packed it was.

"There are so many people here," she cringed.

"And you're about to flirt with one of them!" Ashley exclaimed, much to her dismay.

"I don't think she's gonna have to make the first move, either, with that dress on," Evelyn smirked.

They found a booth and Y/N volunteered to go to the bar and order them all drinks. Three beers.

"I love a girl in a good sundress," a voice came from behind her. She turned around to see a man, tall and handsome, but not quite Dean.

"Oh," she awkwardly spoke, "Thank you?"

"You're welcome," he laughed, "Why don't you let me buy you a drink?"

"I already ordered one, but thanks."

"Okay, then why don't you hang out with me while until you finish it and I'll buy your next one?"

He was persistent, she had to give him that.

"Okay," she sighed, figuring she had nothing to lose. At least it would be a short-lived distraction.

"Here you go, ma'am," the bartender handed her three bottles.

"Thanks," she smiled, grabbing them and turning to the man she'd been talking to, "I'll be right back."

She brought Evelyn and Ashley the beer and told them about him.

"Go for it, girl! He's been staring at you since we walked in, he totally wants some," Ashley spurred her on.

"Yeah, but I don't want some," she frowned.

"Okay, but he doesn't know that yet, so there's no harm in flirting. Just something to get over Dean and boost your self confidence," Evelyn inputted.

Y/N let out yet another exasperated sigh and silently agreed, walking back over to the man.

"There you are, hot stuff!" he smiled at her, all teeth.

"Yeah, sorry, I just had to bring my friends their drinks."

"No problem at all, sweetness, I knew you'd come back for more."

Internally, she was cringing. This dude was disgustingly cocky. He looked like a former frat boy who peaked in college.

They talked for a while, but she really wasn't interested at all. Even a conversation with him was a chore, and her energy levels weren't high enough to inflate his ego further.

"Listen, Jordan, I'm gonna go back to my friends but it was nice to meet you," she interrupted him in the middle of his sentence, not caring what he had to say.

"Excuse me?" his confusion showed all over his face.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I'd just rather be hanging out with them. There are a lot of other girls here you could talk to," she smiled politely, ejecting herself by turning away from him.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back into him, growling through gritted teeth, "But I'm talking to you. You know, you big girls are good in bed but you're really all fucking bitches."

She tried to yank herself away from him, but it was to no avail. She yelled, "Let go of me!" He didn't listen, holding tighter and reaching down to her ass, giving it a squeeze.

"It's ok, hot stuff, I can take care of that. This ass needs me behind it, huh? Get rid of your attitude real quick."

She didn't even have time to respond, or spit on him, or punch him, or whatever else she planned to do because she was ripped from his grasp. It was a whirlwind, and she felt like she was spinning, but when she grounded herself, she was behind a solid wall of leather.

She recognized him by his smell alone. It was Dean. Her Dean.

"She told you to let her god damn go," he deadpanned, his voice low and deadly.

"Who the fuck are you, her dad? Get the fuck out of here, she's just some whore," Jordan huffed.

That was all it took for Dean to swing, sharp and quick, his fist landing square in the center of the other man's face. Jordan's nose instantly started leaking blood behind the hand he'd put over it.

"She is not a whore. She just doesn't fucking want you, asshole."

He grabbed her hand and lead her out of the bar before the owner even had a chance to kick them out. Evelyn and Ashley followed closely behind.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" Evelyn asked, concern written on her face like a book.

"I am," the girl meekly assured, rubbing her arm where the creep had grabbed her.

"Um," Ashley started, glancing between Y/N and Dean pointedly, "We're gonna go. We'll call you later to check on you."

"Yeah," Evelyn agreed, sensing the mood. She turned to Dean as they walked to her car, "Get her home safe."

"Always," he promised, waving goodbye to the girls and turning to his favorite. "What the hell were you doing, talking to a guy like that, sweetheart?"

"I..." she stuttered. She didn't want to lay all her cards out on the table just yet. "I don't know. I liked him."

Dean cocked a brow, "Him? Really? See, I just don't believe that."

She rolled her eyes and stomped her foot petulantly, "I thought it would be a distraction, Dean."

"From what?" he asked, as if he really didn't know. Her eyes averted to the ground and she pursed her lips awkwardly. That told him everything. "From me?"

"I think about you more than I should. I just knew you would come back, so I've been waiting for you, but I didn't know when, so I wanted a distraction."

"How many distractions have you looked for?"

"He was the first one. And I didn't plan to sleep with him or anything. I just thought the conversation would be good for me. Turns out it wasn't."

"Well you don't have to answer to me, sweetheart. But you should know, I've been thinking about you, too."

"Really?"

"I've been trying to get back. It's just been impossible. We've been so busy with hunt after hunt, and there haven't been any here."

"If there's not a hunt here, then why are you here?"

"There was an easy one close to home. I sent Sam on it alone for a couple days and I drove here."

Her eyes met his, and she saw how worn down he was. The innocence in his eyes was dwindling every day. Her heart ached for him, wishing she could lighten the load. Wishing she could take some of it away for him.

"Take me home," she demanded, her voice sweeter than her words. He nodded, leading her to the impala and opening the passenger side door for her.

The car ride was silent. As was the walk up to her apartment. Neither of them knew what to say. All of the feelings from before were still there, in fact they were stronger than they'd been the first time.

They stood awkwardly at her door for a moment, and she cleared her throat to ease it, "You can stay here tonight, Dean. You don't have to find a cheap motel."

"I actually already have one. But I'd still rather stay here, if you're sure it's okay."

She let him in and he sat on her couch as she walked to her bedroom to change. She threw on a tank top and a pair of spandex shorts, rushing back to his side. She didn't want to be away from him for too long. Really, she didn't want to waste a moment of the time she had with him.

"How long are you here for?" she asked.

"Until tomorrow afternoon."

She couldn't stop the sorrow from creeping into her smile, "Well at least we have a little bit of time."

"I need more with you."

"I know," she sighed, "But this will do. Are you hungry? I'm gonna make something to eat."

"I'll help you," he offered, following her into the kitchen.

They threw together some burgers and fries, and she handed him the remote, instructing him to find a movie. He did, The Untouchables, mumbling something about it being his favorite of all time.

Before they knew it, they were sitting next to each other on the couch, plates empty and discarded, movie almost over.

"You were right. The movie was good," she mused as the credits began to roll.

"I’m always right,” he smirked, turning the TV off and carrying the plates to the kitchen, washing them before she could protest.

A loud yawn burst from her lips as she joined him, placing the newly clean plates in her cabinet.

“You should get some sleep, sweetheart. I’ll still be here in the morning,” he told her.

“I’m not ready to go to bed yet, I don’t want to let you out of my sight,” she whined in protest.

He chuckled, pulling her into his chest and squeezing. She took the moment to breathe him in,

“Hey Dean, why’d you go to the bar when you got to town instead of to my apartment?” she’d been wondering for hours but hadn’t had the chance to ask yet. Finally, she said fuck it and went for it.

“I came here first. You weren’t home, and it’s a Saturday night. I figured the bar was a good place to start looking for you.”

Her heart warmed, swelling in her chest.

“Let’s just have a living room sleepover and watch movies til we fall asleep,” she suggested, pulling just far enough away to look at him.

“Or, and feel free to say no or slap me or whatever you think is appropriate, I could sleep with you tonight? We don’t have to do anything. I just want to be next to you.”

And he meant it. He’d never been so eager to simply sleep in the company of a woman in his life. He wanted more, sure, but he was fine with just holding her. She was warm, and she smelled of vanilla and strawberries. She was comfort and she felt like he’d found a home. Hunting didn’t really allow him one of those, so he savored her.

“Come on,” her voice was barely over a whisper as she pulled him by his hand to her room.

He had to fight the urge to inhale as he walked in. Her scent was so heavy in the room he could wrap up in it like a blanket. He felt like he was becoming addicted, and he dreaded leaving the next day. She was just as perfect, if not more so, than he remembered, and he didn’t understand how she came so easily to him when nobody else ever had.

“You’re welcome to shower before you go to sleep. I have some extra boxers that I think might fit you,” she hummed as she flitted about, cleaning up as much as she could. She wasn’t expecting him, and her stomach was in knots, butterflies fluttering in there like she’d never felt.

“Why do you have boxers laying around?” he asked, brows furrowed, a twinge of jealousy tainting his voice.

“Evelyn stayed over a few months ago with her ex boyfriend and they forgot to bring his boxers, so they went to the store and got some. He only used one pair out of the pack, the other two are still in there. I’m pretty sure he left a T shirt too, but I’d have to look for it,” she explained. She felt empowered by his slight jealousy; it made her feel wanted.

“Just the boxers will do,” he smiled, and she reached into one of her dresser drawers to fish the package out for him.

He went to shower and while he was gone, her nerves got the best of her. She paced, almost frantic, heart beating out of her chest. What if he made a move? What if he didn’t make a move? She hadn’t become less insecure since he’d last been there, and she worried about whether or not he even liked her. Maybe it was just a friendship thing for him. Maybe it was a pity thing. Maybe he didn’t want to see her at all, and just stumbled into her at the bar by accident.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, drawing her out of her panicked state. She stood frozen when she laid eyes on him, his hair wet and his chest bare. The boxers fit perfectly and her eyes widened when she noticed what they were hiding. It was…. intimidating, to say the least.

“Yes!” she squeaked out, jumping under the covers, willing the flush to leave her cheeks.

He climbed in beside her as she turned on her bedroom TV, putting on an old movie and turning the volume down for background noise.

“I can go to the couch if you’re uncomfortable,” he offered. His concern for her was evident.

“I’m not,” she said, all too quickly. “I just… I can’t believe you came back. Why did you come back?”

He sighed, heavy and thoughtful, “You’re all I’ve thought about since I met you. I talk about you all the time. I didn’t send Sammy on that hunt alone, he went without telling me and called me on the way. Told me to drive here and see you before he goes crazy.”

“Why are you so interested in me?”

“I guess for the same reason you’re so interested in me. It’s not something I can explain. It’s just something I feel.”

“Yeah,” she paused, “Tonight is the first night I’ve gone out since you left. I’ve been waiting for a knock at my door like an idiot. You’ve.. you’ve vexed me.”

“You vexed me first.”

She met his eyes, startled by how close he was to her.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered.

“Why?”

“Trust me. Close your eyes.”

She did as he asked. She hoped he’d kiss her, but she was only half expecting him to, doubt gnawing at her like a dog with a bone.

It let go of her, though, the second his lips met hers.

It was the kind of kiss a girl doesn’t forget. Heavy, and soft, and passionate, and desperate. And sweet. So sweet. His taste was burned into her memory and if she was ruined before, she was much worse for wear now.

He slipped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest, embracing her like he’d wanted to since the moment they met. She whined, needy and pliant, and he had to fight the urge to groan. He’d never felt want like he did with her. She made him feel like he could do anything.

She arched her back into him, wanting to be closer. She thought she’d die without more of him right that second. His bare skin taunted her, warm and hard and inviting. Her nipples hardened through her thin tank top, pushing against him, creating the most beautiful friction. She couldn’t hold back her moan when his tongue brushed against hers, and her leg found it’s way over his hip, her core meeting his in a fit of need.

The groan he’d been saving came out full force, his hand sliding over the curve of her ass, pulling her closer, wanting…. wanting…. wanting. Only then did the kiss slow, coming to a sweet and breathless end.

“Maybe we should wait,” he suggested.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked.

“I’d rather work for you, sweetheart. I don’t want this to be something you regret. I want it to be perfect, like you deserve. And I just don’t think I deserve you quite yet.”

“Dean..” she breathed out, unsure of what to say. He was so… careful with her. It turned her into a puddle. “We can wait. But you deserve everything.”

“You are everything.”

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

Tag List: @stoneyggirl2 @winchestergypsy90 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @deansbbyx @siospins2 @gatorgal94 @classyunknownlover @jbcalway @djs8891 @mishapocalyse @justrealizedimmascifygurl @ellie-andthemachine @sassy-pelican @tmb510 @superwholockisdabest

[zepskies]

DEAN WINCHESTER ONE-SHOTS

Stories are Dean Winchester x Reader unless otherwise noted.

(**Notes 18+ only and/or smut)

Restless Nights After a tryst you instigated in the backseat of his Baby, you and Dean have started something new. He’s just not sure that you’re as “all in” as you claimed to be.

(Sequel to Maybe More Than Enough)

Maybe More Than Enough You’ve been a friend and ally to the Winchester brothers for years, but you and Dean break new ground while on a stakeout to catch a witch.

Touch Me** - (Dean x Plus-size!Reader) Dean isn’t used to how “touchy” you can be, but he never said he didn’t like it.

Rest Dean is your rock, but you’ve become his place of rest.

Something Real** - (Firefighter!Dean W. x Reader) Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…

(Part of the Smoke Eater-verse)

Down to the Crust You’ve set out on a very specific mission for Dean. The problem is, you now have ulterior motives for your (formerly) pure love of baking.

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

Sharing Is Caring (II) Navigating a new relationship means learning how to share a bed with Dean.

(3-part series with Sam, Dean, and Castiel.)

Patched Up (I) How Dean thanks you for treating his wounds.

(3-part series with Sam, Dean, and Castiel.)

Make It Right** - (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) He didn’t mean to claim you. Not like this. Not before he’s meant to die.

Midnight Espresso-Verse** - (Dean x Plus-Size!Reader) A Masterlist of stories in which Dean dates a curvy Latina.

Summary: You’ve never taken Dean’s flirting seriously…until he asks you for an impromptu Spanish lesson. 

Get Stuffed Dean enjoys the way you cook Christmas dinner with a Latin flair, even if Sam likes to tease him about his insatiable appetite. You remind Sam about the true reason behind one of Dean’s biggest quirks.

(Part of the Midnight Espresso-Verse)

The Old-Fashioned Way - (Dean x Soulmate!Reader) You and Dean are having trouble trying to start a family. What happens when you turn to a spell for a possible solution?

(Part of the Never Say Goodbye-Verse)

Talk Bacon to Me A rare lazy morning where you feel like pestering Dean a little. He objects to being pestered, but ultimately, you both just want to spend some time together.

Easy Like Sunday Morning In which Sam is thoroughly done with motels, and you and Dean continue to make his life miserable.

Home Cooking Now that you and Dean have a daughter, living at the bunker with Sam means you get to be more domestic, to varying degrees of success. Dean learns to enjoy your attempts at cooking. 

Damned If I Do - (Dean x Lisa B.) Lisa's thoughts as she fights for her life, and for her son, and this time for Dean.

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Supernatural Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[stvrfir0]

Teaching make-up

Cas x fem curvy Winchester reader

Castiel. An angel who thought he’d never be able to experience true love. He really did believe that. Until he met you. Y/n, Sam and Dean Winchesters’ sister. Every time you’re around, he looks at you like he’s in awe.

Tonight, Sam and Dean left the bunker to go hunt a Shapeshifter. Because it was an easy case, they told you and Castiel to stay back. So, now Castiel is watching intently as you show him your makeup routine. “So, you’re basically using your face as a canvas?”

Y/n smiles softly "well yes" (Y/n was 5'5 feet tall and she had long curly brown hair and beautiful Doe eyes that were golden hazel and she had pink lips and freckles around her face and she had a curvy body and her hips sway each time she walked and she was wearing a black Plus Solid Mermaid Skirt and a chocolate brown Solid Tube Crop Top)

Castiel would look at Anlie up and down, blushing at her curvy figure. He smiled at how her hips swayed. He didn’t understand why it made his heart beat faster or why he was so entranced.

Castiel would slowly step closer to her, his eyes locked on her hips. This was a perfect opportunity to figure out why his heart was so excited. He would reach down and gently grab her hips, holding them in his hands.

Y/n smiles and makes him sit "now the real fun starts" she starts doing his skincare. Castiel would blush softly when she makes him sit down. He still wasn’t sure what this was for, but he wouldn’t question her, that would make her upset. His heart would still be racing, as he looked up at her. He tried to calm it, but looking into her eyes made it harder to. He’d watch as she does his skin care and smile gently. He loved how close he was to her, and how good her hands felt on his face.

Castiel would be quiet as she puts the care on his face. He couldn’t take his eyes off her face. She looked so focused, which made her look so stunning. Just being this close to her was enough for his heart to beat fast. Once she finished putting her care on his face, he’d look at her questioningly. “So… what now?” He asked curiously, his voice low and soft.

Y/n hums softy "just for a bit..." Castiel would nod, watching her as she hums softly. Every movement she made, every sound she made… he would follow intently. He felt so… intrigued. Like every bit of her captured his attention, and he couldn’t look away. “How long is ‘just a bit?" .He asked curiously, tilting his head slightly.

Y/n checks her phone "5 minutes.." she smiles softly Castiel would nod, his eyes staying fixed on her. The fact that she was so close to him, so focused on him, was making his heart race once again. Although, he was better this time at not letting it show on his face. He’d take a deep breath, calming his heart once again. “Alright. 5 minutes. We can do 5 minutes.”

He stated, a soft smile on his face. It felt like an eternity as he waited for her to remove the mask. Every second he spent looking up at her with this mask over his face, he was admiring her. The way she hummed, the way her hair fell over her shoulders, the way her eyes seemed focused on the time. Finally, after a few more minutes, he’d speak up again. “It’s been 5 minutes… can you remove it now?” He asked curiously, tilting his face so she could reach better.

Y/n would chuckle and nod, pulling the mask off of his face. She’d smile down at him, realizing the look he was giving her. It was the same look she had seen on his face before. She’d run her hand gently down his cheek, her eyes following her fingertips as she did so. “What?” She asked, tilting her head to one side.

Castiel would blush softly as she ran her hand down his cheek. Feeling her gentle touch on his skin would make his heart start racing. He’d look at her, his eyes staring into hers, his expression a mixture of embarrassment and awe. He’d clear his throat softly, shifting in his seat. “I… um… I was just thinking.” He mumbled, looking down and fiddling with his tie.

Y/n would chuckle softly, noticing the blush on his face and his fiddling with his tie. It was so obvious that she was affecting him, yet she pretended to not notice. Her hand would linger on the side of his face for a second, before dropping back down to her side. “Thinking about what?” She asked curiously, looking down at him.

Castiel would swallow hard, his heart racing a million beats per second. When she took her hand away, he found himself missing her touch almost immediately. He’d look back up at her, his blue eyes fixed on hers. His voice would be quieter than usual, as he was embarrassed by the thoughts going through his head. “Thinking about… you…” He mumbled, his cheeks blushing even more.

[sunshinepanic]

Lie to me - Ch 02

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You and your best friend Dean drunkenly hook up.

Warnings: Uh-oh… unrequited/maybe requited, drinking, angst, smut

Word Count: 1,544

Sorry this has taken so fucking long. There is no excuse other than I’m just a shit person with a habit of being severely depressed. If you are still here thank you so much! If not I completely understand.

Not beta read we die like men.

Dean Winchester Masterlist - SPN Masterlist

Slamming the shot glass down on the bar he stared down at his phone. Scrolling through pictures of you, Sammy, and him together. His chest ached when he thought about how your face fell when he had told Sammy he was headed out. He wanted to ask you to come with him but you always turned him down. Sammy had sighed and tried for the millionth time to convince Dean you had feelings for him but Dean knew he was just a friend in your eyes, and screw Sam for trying to give him false hope. He downed another shot letting his mind wander to thoughts of you. He was startled when he felt someone’s fingers tickle up his arm. For a split second he hoped it was you but when he turned it was the curvy brunette that had been eyeing him out like a steak dinner since he had entered the bar. Normally he would smirk at her and throw out some bullshit line that would have her spreading her legs anywhere he asked her to but instead her touch made his skin crawl. He couldn’t get your face out of his head. He quickly shrugged her hand off mumbling an apology and took off towards the door.

Driving towards the bunker Deans hands clenched the steering wheel. Not sure what his plan was but he knew he couldn’t live like this anymore. When he pulled into the bunker his plan was to go to his room and sleep it off but as he walked down the hall he found himself outside your room.

He was going to walk away thinking you were already asleep but then he heard you moving around. His head told him to knock but before he realized what he was doing he had opened your bedroom door and was walking in.

You were standing there wearing nothing but his worn Led Zeppelin shirt chest heaving from being startled looking like every one of his wet dreams come to life. Your lips parted like you were about to say something but before you could Dean moved. Your back hit the wall and Deans lips crashed against yours.

He expected you to shove him away and he was braced for it but after a moment’s hesitation you moaned into his mouth and buried your hands in his hair pulling him closer. He ripped his flannel and shirt off as fast as he could while trying to keep your lips connected. Reaching down and grabbing your thighs he hoisted you up to wrap your legs around him. You instantly started grinding yourself against him as he carried you over to the bed. He gently laid you down on the bed his shirt riding up revealing your red silk panties. He had barely touched you and you were already soaked through.

Groaning at the sight he leaned down and placed a kiss on your core as he slid your underwear down your legs. He looked up at you from his spot between your legs. Your chest heaving, lips parted, beautiful Y/E/C blown wide like you couldn’t quite believe what you were seeing. He smirked up at you. “Is this alright sweetheart?” He asked as his hands slid back up your legs to cup your ass. Gulping you quickly nodded your head. “I need words baby girl.” You quickly moaned out a yes at his words. He pulled your legs over his shoulders as he licked a broad stripe up your core. You threw your head back moaning at the feeling of his tongue on your delicate folds. You struggled to keep your eyes locked on him not wanting to miss anything. Afraid this was all another one of your dreams. His fingers made their way to your entrance slowly filling you up. His thick fingers pumping in and out of you as he sucked on your clit was the best torture you could ever imagine. “You taste so fucking good sweetheart. Always knew you would be sweet. I need you to cum for me baby. Can you do that? Can you cum on my face? If you’re a good girl for me, and cum, I’ll give you my cock.” You were a moaning shaking mess between his fingers and tongue and the obscene filth coming from his gorgeous lips all you could do was moan and quickly nod your head. He smiled and dove back down with renewed vigor. Within minutes your legs clamped around his head as you shuddered through your orgasm riding it out on his tongue.

As soon as you unclenched your legs he slid up your body shoving his shirt up over your head to remove it. He kissed you like a man starved and before you knew what was happening you could feel him at your entrance. You didn’t even see him finish taking his clothes off. He slowly slid inside of you groaning at how good you felt wrapped around his cock. Your nails dug into his back pulling him as close as possible. Clinging onto him like he might disappear at any moment. He kissed you hard as he started thrusting. You could feel your orgasm nearing fast but then Dean stopped. You were confused but just as you opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong he rolled over startling you with your new position on top of him. You immediately felt self conscious as you looked down at the green eyed hunter. You moved to wrap your arms around yourself but Dean grabbed your hands. “Hey, don’t do that. Don’t try to cover up baby girl. You’re gorgeous.” He leaned up and kissed you “and so fucking sexy.” He placed a kiss on your throat. “I want you so bad baby girl.” He placed a kiss on your nipple. Moaning you grabbed onto his shoulders and slowly lowered yourself onto his cock. Dean groaned and you whined at how deep he felt inside you. You slowly started moving, Deans big hands guiding your hips while you ride him. Dean hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he licked and sucked at your nipples. You could feel your orgasm building back up and started moving faster. “Are you going to cum for me baby? I can feel it. I want to feel you cum on my cock. Please baby girl cum for me. Make me cum inside this pretty little pussy.” You tipped your head back closing your eyes but Dean wrapped his hand around your throat. “Look at me baby girl. I want you to look at me while you cum. I wanna see you.” You opened your eyes and moaned as you locked eyes with Dean. You could feel yourself start to shake as your orgasm rolled through your body. You cling onto Dean and fought to keep eye contact. The feel of your orgasm clenching around Dean sent him into his own. He sped up his thrusts cumming deep inside you as you both moaned at the feeling. You finally let your eyes slip shut.

Dean wrapped his arms around you as he gently maneuvered you both down onto your sides. After getting you both into a comfortable position he whispered “Y/N are you ok? Was this alright?” But you didn’t answer. Your breathing was even and you were already fast asleep. Dean stared at your face thinking how beautiful you looked. He knew you guys needed to talk about everything but after tonight he had hope that he might actually get everything he ever wanted and maybe Sammy wasn’t wrong. He wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss to your forehead before letting sleep take him under.

He wakes up slowly dreams of last night making him not want to wake up. He stretches his arm out searching for you but he finds the bed empty. He sits up, panic setting in, but he tries to hold it back. You probably just went to the kitchen for coffee. He quickly grabs his jeans and pulls them on. He can’t find his shirt from last night so he quickly shrugs on his flannel and does it up while walking out of your room. He is almost to the end of the hall when he hears Sam’s voice so he calls out to him. “Hey, Sammy have you seen Y/N?” When he rounds the corner he sees Sam helping you off the ground. Dean stops in his tracks taking stock of what he is seeing. You’re in sweats and his shirt and then he notices your wallet and car keys clutched in your hand like a death grip. His eyes travel to your tear streaked face and he can feel his throat close and his stomach bottom out. He clears his throat, “Sweetheart what’s wrong?” You shook your head and just mumbled out “I’m sorry.” As you turned and slid past Sam continuing on your way to the garage. Dean watched you go as he felt his heart crack inside his chest. Sam looked from the direction you went back to his brother. “Dean what’s going on? Is Y/N alright?” Dean snapped out of his daze and looked at Sam. “You were wrong Sam.”

Taglist: @m-winchester-67 @niffala @sammedeansandwhich @shinymoonstarfish

[thevampirediariesuniverse-1864]

Dean Winchester x reader smut 18+!!!!

Summery : Dean accidentally gets a hold of some nasty stuff ..called..sex pollen …when on the hunt for a wendigo and you were the only girl there

Beware ! Not proof read not checked for grammar or spelling errors do your best to figure it out 😂

Some boy had gone missing in the mountains, and theses mountains were rumored to be extrely haunted. So of course you Sam and Dean catch wind of this story and go to investigate. You grabbed your hiking bag, “ready boys?” Dean smirked “hell yeah” Sam groand“let’s just get it over with” Dean instinctively grabbed your waist as you started to hike through the forest , you and Dean had always been the closest but never romantic , you were tall just like Sam and Dean but not quite as tall, you were 5”11 where Dean was 6”1 and Sam 6”3 , you wore Jean shorts, cowgirl boots leather with blue feather stitching your body was curvy but muscular, you could easily compete with Dean and Sam , but you had a lil stomach , and you hated that you had that’s extra weight right there , you could never except that that was your body trying to help you , incase you ever had a baby that extra fat would cousin and protect the baby or feed it if you ran out of food, no you had to hate it! Cause you thought it was ”ugly”and not an absolute miracle of God ,

all Dean saw in you was beauty , but of course you could never know that either , Dean kept his arm firmly around you waist protectively , as if you would need protecting , but he did it anyway because he wanted to keep you safe , you were the most important thing on earth to him you matters more than anything.

The wind blew through the tall emerald evergreen trees , they reminded Dean of your eyes , the rain misted the forest it was creepy you knew something was out there , you looked back at Sam and Dean knowingly telling them without talking to be ready this thing was here the quick rustles in the bushes proved that , when you saw it , it was a wendigo for sure , it growled at Dean and something inside you flipped you knew you had to protect Dean you had to protect Sam your boys ,

You quickly cut over at this thing slicing sits jaw opens as you slice it as hard as you can all your muscles working on over drive , this wendigo screamed. “Yn! No!” Dean yelled and grabbed you slinging you out of the way as that thing screamed this yellow powder flew into deans face , the wendigo ran off into the forest leaving you there

You ran to deans side “Dean! Damn you you idiot! Why’d you do it!!” Dena smiled up at you “cause I cain’t let that thing hurt my girl” Dean tucks some hair behind your ear , you didn’t know if he ment it in a friendly way of more, Sam fell to deans side to as Dean laid in the ground , “we have to get him somewhere safe , this is about to get real bad real fast” you get panicked “Sam! What do you mean ?! What’s wrong ?!” Sam looks back at you and says “Yn, just don’t worry about it , we just have to get him safe , there!” *sam points to an old log cabin,

Sam Carrie’s Dean who’s whimpering and whining “I’m itching! My skin ! My skins on fire ! It burns! Everything aches ,” Dean whines out through groans , you run your fingers through his hair as Sam lays him down on the floor of the old abandoned cabin, “that stuff that got in deans eyes …that was sex pollen , it’s one of that creatures nastiest tricks ..and” you were shocked and scared Dean blurts out “what’s?!” You’re still so worried “go on Sam , and what ?” Sam takes a deep breathe then says “and if you dont …make love …with someone it’s gonna kill you Dean ..” Dean hollers “no! No! No! That can’t no! I won’t do that to Yn!”

You look at Dean with sympathetic eyes and put a hand on deans forehead “Dean we ain’t got much of a choice” Sam stands up and gose into the other room , fathers from yalls, before he gose Sam kisses your forehead and whispers “I’m so sorry Yn” and he brushes your hair back as he leaves

You go back and sit at deans side , Dean looks up at you “Yn, I don’t wanna do this to you I don’t wanna hurt you , I can’t control myself” you say “Dean I said Id do anything for you, and I meant it , I can’t let you suffer , I can’t let you die Dean! Losing My virginity is nothing compared to losing you!

Dean sits up and pulls you into him kissing you passionately, Dean pulls you into his lap as he grinds you onto him , “oh baby, mmmm” Dean moans , he rips your top off and pulls your shirts off , getting his off as well , his cock aching and hard , Dean looks so sad and upset but his eyes full of desire “Dean , it’s okay , do what you have to , I’ll be okay” Dean let’s go and slides himself into you and moan out “baby I’m so sorry” Dean says , your eyes are clapped shut in pain as you cling onto his big muscles , as you whimper in pain, his cock was stretching you out so much it hurt , Dean kissed up your neck as he pounded into you “your doing so good baby, so good for me” you nod your head as he continues to pins into you deeply “muaah” you moan out in pain Dena looks down at you snapping his hips into you “oh baby , oh baby I’m so sorry”

He didn’t seem to care anything of your insecurities, hell he loved them more than anything , that little bit of stomach you had he wanted nothing more than his baby there , your scars , and stretch marks like lightning , so fucking beautiful , it turned him on even more , he was in so much pain chasing his release to make the pain go away

Soon deans thrust become faster and harder “oh baby , baby , I’m gonna come …mm..gonna give you my baby , gonna get you pregnant” when he moans out, as he shot his cum into you , when he finishes he fell down into your chest but kept his cock inside you and his face in your boobs he clung onto you , “baby, I love you so much”

Dean finally comes back to , his brain starts working right again “oh Yn, I’m so sorry, oh gosh I’m so sorry, I hurt you! I hurt you, no, no no, oh Yn baby,” you grab his face and make him look at you “no Dean don’t you dare apologize! I swore I’d protect you I told you I’d do anything for you, and I mean it! I’d gladly do it again to save you dean I’d do anything for you! I love you Dean Winchester ,

Dean holds you closing to him , his cock still in you , he just wanted to hold you all night long right there , when he slips his ring onto your finger , “baby , I want you as my wife , I want you to have my children ,” you nod your head “yes , yes” as he pulls you into another kiss his arms holding you protectively, you were his wife , his and only his and that thing made him hurt you! He’d find a way to make it suffer ! Then kill it! Nothing hurt his girl , no nothing hurt the wife of Dean Winchester!