#i have no idea if his freckles r ok i tried a new brush and again. i. am not. putting. my glasses. back. on. my. face.
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slingbats · 6 months ago
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this is so messy but this image from a very late scene in this old fic by Gabrie_DwelleR where oswald impersonates clayface impersonating him wouldn't leave my brain so I had to draw it
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impala-dreamer · 5 years ago
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Watch Your F!cking Mouth!
SPN FanFic
~Dean gets whammied with an especially frustrating curse and Y/N tries to keep him calm, much to her amusement and annoyance.~
Dean x Reader
1,984 Words
Warnings: NSFW. Foul Language. Oral Sex. Intercourse. Comedy.
A/N: I'll be honest, this took me all day to write because I kept stopping to laugh. I just... Idek. It's ridiculous. Enjoy :)
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“Son of a broadcaster!”
Y/N looked up as Dean stumbled backwards, reaching down to rub his shin after whacking it against the bedpost.
“Still?” she asked; hint of a laugh on her breath.
“Yeah, yeah, shuttie.” He rolled his eyes and stood up, limping his way towards the couch. "You know, this is some real hogswallop! I mean what the fig!"
Y/N's laugh broke free and Dean growled as he fell down onto the sofa.
"This isn't funny! It's balderdash!"
Trying to calm down, Y/N put her book down and frowned at him. "I'm sorry, baby. This is really fucked up. Super funny...but fucked up."
"It's not ducking funny!" he shouted, sulking into the cushions. "What the fork kinda nasty basted witch curses someone like this? It's like my tongue has flagging autocorrect!"
"I only got like half of that, to be honest."
“Please shut the freight up and leave me be.” Dean sighed, letting his head fall against the seat back. “I just wanna be able to open my gold digging mouth and have the right frosted words come out!”
Quickly, Y/N left her seat and went to him, hating to see him so frustrated, even if it made her laugh harder than she had in a long time. For the last six hours, Dean had been cursed with the inability to curse as if he were stuck on some network television show. The worst he’d been able to muster was a ‘freakin’’ when Sam had knocked over his beer, but after a while, he just gave up and stopped talking. It was quiet without him, but Y/N couldn’t imagine how tough it was to think one thing and have your tongue twist it into another.
“Hey,” she said softly, perching on the coffee table in front of him. “Sam said it should only last a few more hours. Then you’ll be back to cursing like the sailor I know and love.”
“It’s not just that,” he said with a whimper, shaking his head at the ceiling. “I can not curse, it’s not like I have to constantly-”
“I know, baby,” she soothed, placing her hand on his knee.
“It’s just that I should be able to say what I wanna say when I flamingo say it!”
Y/N coughed to hide her laugh and Dean’s head popped up, his eyes narrowed on her smirk. “Don’t laugh at me, please. For frying sake, it actually hurts. Like there’s a sharp pain in the front of my head every time I try to say ‘fling’.” Dean pointed to the spot, right above his left eyebrow and cringed as he tried to curse. “Salad dressing! Gah!”
“Well, stop, ya moron!” Y/N teased, scooting a big closer. “Just stop talking!”
Dean glared. “Do you have any idea how hard that is for me? Come on.”
“You wanna talk about your feelings about where our relationship is going? That shuts you up quick.”
Her smirk was on point.
His eye roll was superb.
Y/N sighed but kept a sweet smile. “Dean, just...relax, OK? It’ll be over soon, I promise.” Her fingers curled around his knee.
He let out a breath and his shoulders dropped a bit. “Fine. Yeah.”
“There’s my good boy,” she teased, pushing her hand slowly up his thick thigh, nails dragging on the rough denim as she came back down. “Just relax.”
Dean shivered as her thumb brushed over his dick. “This is… quite relaxing… farm…”
Y/N bit her lip to keep from laughing, wanting to focus on distracting them both from his new speech impediment. “Shh…” Her palm rubbed against him and Y/N felt his cock push back, growing hard beneath the tightness of his jeans.
“Feels so nice, baby,” he whispered, wiggling his ass against the seat to try and ease the strain. “Love when you play with my coins.”
She let out a deep, slow breath to calm her giggles and set her other hand on his leg, sliding off of the table onto her knees. “I like it too, Dean,” she cooed, massaging his inner thighs with both hands. “But you know what I love?”
His eyes glazed over as he looked to her in lustful anticipation.
She bit her lip and reached for his belt, easily loosening the leather strap. “I love…” The brass button came free with a pop. “Sucking…” She eased the zipper down slowly, carefully. “Your big…” Reaching in, she pushed aside the thin cotton of his boxers. “Beautiful…” She pulled him free and Dean moaned in desperation as she bent her lips to the swelling head. “Cock.”
“Oh, Jiminy Christmas!”
Y/N kissed the tip and Dean whimpered pitifully.
“Please…”
“Love it when you beg, Dean,” she growled, flicking the tip of her tongue against the base of his cock, watching as he twitched. “Such a good boy.”
Dean lifted his hips as she licked a stripe from base to tip and grabbed a fistful of her hair, forcing her to hold still while he groaned. “Stop forging teasing me and get to work.”
Her smile was abandoned as Dean jerked his hips, shoving his cock between her lips. She hummed in excitement and sucked hard, sealing her lips around him as his hand pushed her down.
“Yes...fang...you take my cab so good, baby.”
His cock hit the back of her throat and Y/N gagged loudly, drool spilling from the corners of her mouth as he released his hold on her head.
“Flame, baby, love that sound. Makes my drum so hard.”
Y/N did her best not to laugh, trying to ignore his insane dirty talk and keep her mind on her task. As long as he didn’t talk, she was fine, working his cock like a pro, teasing and taking him deeper and deeper with each pass.
When his breath quickened and his moans became dark, Y/N pulled back, looking up at him with innocent, wide eyes, her lips bobbing gently over his leaking head.
Dean reached for her, big hands closing around the soft flesh of her upper arms. “Get up here,” he breathed. “Golly, I wanna factor that sweet little poinsetta so faking bad.”
She laughed, she couldn’t help it. Y/N closed her eyes and sealed her lips tight as the chuckle shook her entire body. “I can’t. I’m so sorry, Dean. I can’t.”
His grip tightened on her arms. “Please.” His face was red, muscles in his throat tense and exposed; a thin sheet of sweat sparkled on his brow and upper lip. “Please, baby. I gotta falafel you. Now.”
Dean grit his teeth in a growl but Y/N couldn’t take much more.
“Baby,” she laughed, sitting back on her heels, “I...I can’t…”
Green eyes went wide with pained disappointment. “What? No…” He reached for her, leaning forward to grab her face between his warm hands. “Please, Y/N. Don’t leave me like this,” he begged, the pathetic yet passionate tone in his voice making her pussy throb. “I need you so bad.”
While Y/N pondered the situation, wondering if she could stash her giggles while he took her for a ride, Dean sucked his bottom lip fully between his teeth and then slowly let it slide back out, wet and red and swollen. Y/N’s cunt clenched and her heart raced; her fate was sealed.
“Please.”
Y/N sucked in a deep breath and jumped up, opening her jeans as she stood. “OK,” she told him firmly, “but you keep your mouth shut. I can’t take anymore, I really can’t.”
Dean’s gleeful smile was perfection, dimples and lines and bright teeth on display. “Yes, totally. No more talking.” He zipped his lips with two fingers and nodded enthusiastically as she peeled her panties away. “Not another word.”
“You promise?”
“Mhm.”
“Good.”
Dean held his breath as Y/N climbed into his lap, kissing him hard while she gripped his cock and rubbed it through her slick. His eyes rolled back when she rolled her hips, grinding her clit against his hardness; grabbed her thighs as she slowly sank down.
“Oh…f-”
Y/N bit down hard on his lip to stop his cursed cursing and his words turned into a yelp instead.
“R-ride me,” he gasped, blunt nails digging into her tender flesh.
Setting her hands on his shoulders, Y/N began to ride, slowly bouncing in his lap and watching as he fell apart.
“Y/N…” Dean buried his face in her shirt, panting as he struggled to hold his tongue.
“Shhh…” Y/N fucked down hard, hoping to distract his brain, pull his mouth away from words and push it towards empty whimpers and lustful moans.
“You feel so good,” he whispered, breath heavy against her neck as he kissed any place he could reach. “Feel so good on my camp, fringe!”
Y/N slapped a hand to the back of his head and tugged at his short hair. “Dean!”  
“Sorry, sassafras! Flange, it just- you feel so amazing. Please, don’t stop!”  
Her nails scraped across his scalp. “Then shut up!”
“Yes. Shut up. Yes!”
She licked into his mouth and bounced faster, feeling the moment blossom.
“Holy feathers, I-I’m gonna capitalize! Fire! Freckles!”
“Do it,” she moaned, tugging on his hair until his chin lifted to hers. “Give it to me, Dean.”
It did not take long. Dean held her close, arms tight around her back, hands pawing at her shoulders and ass as he came, a strangled cry filling the room.
“Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!”
Y/N laughed so hard she nearly fell off of his lap, giving up entirely on cumming or trying to stay calm. “Did you just? Really? Oh my god, Dean.”
He kissed her cheek and pulled his lips across, capturing her shaking lips with a sloppy kiss. “Shh…”
“Don’t shush me, Winchester,” she laughed, kissing him back quickly before peeling herself away. “This is too much.”
He caught her hand before she went too far, yanking her back so hard that she fell into his arms. “I’m not done with you,” he said firmly, another kiss stopping her laugh and melting every muscle. Dean pushed her down onto her back, shifting to sit between her legs. “You need to confetti.”
She whimpered around a laugh as Dean leaned down, laying kiss after kiss on her belly. “Please stop talking…”
He lifted his eyes to hers with a smirk as his hands wrapped around her thighs. “I’m done talking,” he said, licking his lips. “I’m gonna eat this prism until you crank all over my face.”
“Jesus christ, shut up!”
Her frustration turned to pleasure as Dean kept his word, sucking hard on her clit as his fingers caressed her pulsing cunt, massaging deep inside as her body writhed above.
“Fuck! Dean!”
He never let up, drawing her orgasm out until her legs began to shake. When her thighs clamped around his head, he slowed to a kitten lick, enjoying the glow of her smile and the sexy whimpers as she came down.
“Come here,” she whispered, releasing his head and reaching for him, needing him close.
Dean smiled sweetly and wiped his mouth before sliding up her body and collapsing on top of her. “Damn, baby,” he sighed. “That was fan-fucking-tastic.”
Y/N gasped, eyes wide and smiling. “Oh my god, Dean! You said fuck!”
“I did?”
“...yeah!”
“I didn’t even notice. Fuck. Oh! I said it again!” He grinned like a school boy and laughed. “Yes! Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Fucking fucker!” Excited, he jumped off of the couch and pumped a fist in the air. “Fuck that fucking bitch-ass witch in her ratty old cunt! Fuck yes! This is fucking awesome!”
Y/N sat up, shaking her head as she reached for her pants. “Oh, Dean,” she sighed. “Such a fucking potty mouth…”
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