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Show Time - Part 3
Summary: You and Dean get closer to finding your monster and you start to realize he's not all that bad. Maybe you could even learn to like him.
Part One Part Two
You woke up early and just laid in bed for some time, trying to organize all your thoughts. Last night had been... Good. Better than you had expected for sure. Normally when you worked with Sam and Dean, you spent all your time with Sam and all your free time antagonizing Dean. But this time, without Sam, you found yourself partnering up with Dean and antagonizing nobody.
But you didn't mind it. In fact, it was kind of nice.
You decided to use today as a new start with you and Dean. Maybe you'd even end up as friends.
Definitely nothing more.
You eventually forced yourself out of bed and down to the kitchen. Dean wasn't up yet, but that was fine. A slow morning to yourself was a luxury. And with a kitchen so fine, you decided to try your hand at a real breakfast. Maybe you could even offer something to Dean, as an olive branch.
There were eggs in the fridge and you figured you could fry some eggs and toast some bread. How hard could that be?
Very hard, apparently.
You set a pan on the stove and turned the burner to the highest setting. At the same time, you dropped two slices of bread in the toaster and let it start cooking.
Eventually you felt the pan was hot enough for the eggs and the second you cracked the egg onto the pan - with a small bit of shell - it started sizzling. With two eggs in the pan they seemed to be done all too quick. You wanted to flip them over, but realized you'd forgotten to oil the pan, and those eggs weren't going anywhere. The more you tried, the more they ripped, the bigger the mess became.
Soon enough smoke was coming from the pan as the bottom of the eggs burned. "Shit," you muttered, taking the pan off the heat. You stood in the middle of the room, the eggs still cooking on this hot pan, not sure what to do.
Then the smoke alarm started going off.
"Fuuuuck," you groaned. You still didn't know what to do, still had the pan in your hand, but were not turning in small circles, trying to find the best move.
"What the hell is going on?" Dean demanded, rushing down the stairs. He was in pajama pants, but no shirt, and the sight of that alone stopped your movements. You just stared at him, mouth slightly open. "Well?"
"Uh, I, uh-"
"Jesus, Y/N," Dean all but shouted, ripping the pan from your hands and tossing it in the sink with cold water. He then grabbed a towel and started fanning right under the smoke alarm. "You can't even cook eggs?"
"Well I'm sorry the hunter lifestyle didn't really give me the chance to learn how to cook," you scoffed, feeling embarrassed. And to put the cherry on the shit sundae, your toast finally popped up, black as a hockey puck.
"Oh, Y/N..." Dean sighed, shaking his head with pity.
"Forget it," you threw your hands in the air and stepped away from the kitchen. "I was just trying to cook us breakfast. Never again."
"You expected me to eat this?" Dean asked, eyebrows raised high in disbelief.
"I didn't think it would turn out this bad," you grumbled. This whole situation was becoming more and more embarrassing and you wanted out.
"Ya know, I didn't grow up with a kitchen either, but at least I know how to cook an egg."
"Well you're just sooo perfect," you spat at him. "With your chili and your eggs and your... your... Can you put a shirt on?"
An amused smile started to spread over Dean's lips and it did nothing to help your mood. "How about I show you how to cook an egg?" He offered. You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to see if he was making fun of you. "I'm serious. Come here."
You sighed in defeat and made your way back to the stove.
Dean was surprisingly patient with you, surprisingly kind. In a matter of seconds you had tasty eggs.
Just as you and Dean sat down to eat, there was a knock on your door. "Who the hell is knocking at nine in the morning?" Dean groused, moving to the door.
"I'll give you one guess," you muttered sarcastically, listening as Dean opened the door.
"Oh! Deanie! Hi!" A voice that brought an instant scowl to your face said. "I was just coming by to invite you to dinner tonight."
"Uh- I guess I can ask Y/N-"
"Oh yes, Y/N too of course."
"Anybody else gonna be there?"
"Um, yes! Yes. Some other neighbors," Tori quickly confirmed.
"Deeeeeeeean," you mewled loudly, tired of listening to this woman hit on your fake husband. "I've got the whipped cream ready!"
"We'll see you tonight," Dean said, no doubt starting to close the door.
"Seven O'clo-" Tori started to say, but was cut off by the door slamming in her face.
Dean made his way back to the kitchen, an amused smile playing at his lips, "whipped cream?"
"As if she was gonna go away on her own," you scoffed. "Not with you standing in the door like that."
"Like what?" That sparkle in Dean's eye told you damn well he knew what you meant. You were certainly not going to give him the satisfaction of hearing you spell it all out.
"Your food is getting cold, jerk," you said, but there was a lightness in your voice that would not have been there yesterday.
Dean settled down next to you and you discussed the case as you ate. You could now narrow down the suspects to anybody that didn't use the silverware, which was still about ten people.
"If the monster even is a ghoul or skinwalker," you added. "If we're dealing with a witch or something random, then silver won't help."
Dean sighed at that, nodding. "Let's go to this dinner and ask about the murders. See if they heard more than what was on the police report."
"Sure thing, Deanie." You pinched his cheek mockingly. "If that girl isn't the monster, I'll be shocked."
"She's just a bored housewife," Dean argued. "I'm fresh meat."
"With a wife."
"Fake wife."
"She doesn't know that. Stop using that as an excuse."
"At this point I'm just saying it to piss you off," Dean said, totally unashamed. "We'll go to that dinner, check all the guests off our suspect list, and then invite the rest to dinner tomorrow."
With a plan set, you and Dean set off to spend the day preparing. You sat on the bed in your room sharpening your knives and cleaning your guns, while he laid in the bed in his room, calling his brother and watching TV. You tried not to eavesdrop, but these walls were thin, so you couldn't help but catch a few snippets from his talk with Sam.
The most interesting bit being, "it's actually been kind of nice. I might even be starting to-" and then a lawnmower outside drowned out the rest.
It was good to know that the change in feelings wasn't one sided. You tried not to dwell too much on what he could have finished that sentence with. You liked Dean okay now, but just okay. He wasn't a friend, he was a colleague. A coworker that you didn't mind sharing a cubicle with. Nothing more.
Absolutely nothing more.
Eventually it was time to walk next door, and you and Dean met by the door. You were in yet another sundress, this one light blue with a white collar. Dean was in khakis and a blue button down shirt, unintentionally matching you.
"Oh, Tori's head is gonna explode," you said excitedly, noticing the perfectly matched blues you were wearing. "Think we can sneak off to the bathroom and make her think we had sex?"
"Calm down there, killer," Dean laughed. "Just be the handsy wife we all know you are, and I'm sure Thomas will be cleaning her brains off the floor before we leave."
"Pig," you muttered, straightening out your dress. "I mean, what was the plan? Some other female hunter was gonna come and just jump your bones right away?"
Dean shrugged at that, at least having the decency to look somewhat ashamed. "Can't blame a guy for trying."
"Pretty gross behavior, Dean."
"Yeah yeah, sorry."
You felt the mood turning somewhat sour, a big change from the morning you had shared, and wanted to stop it before you found yourself in old habits.
"Let's go," you said, grabbing the door handle. "And who knows, maybe you could be the handsy husband," you added, hoping to ease some the tension that had built in the last minute.
"Careful what you wish for," you heard Dean mumble as you left the house.
Tori's house was directly next door, so all you had to do was hop a small bush and suddenly you were at her door. Your fingers barely made a sound on the wood before it was thrown open. "D- the Winchesters!" Tori exclaimed, eyes dancing from you to Dean. "Come on in."
And into the lion's den you walked.
Thankfully Ross and John were there, and it looked like at least one more couple was going to be joining.
"Y/N! Dean!" Ross called out, quickly pulling you both into a hug. "Oh I'm so happy you're both here. We were just starting to gossip."
"Oh I love a good gossip," you said, following Ross to the table. John was already sitting, so you gave him an awkward half hug and sat beside him, with Dean on your other side. "What's the topic?"
"Do you know the Smiths? They'll be joining later," Ross started, "well we're pretty sure they're swingers."
"No," you said, giving Dean a conspiratorial look. "Don't you go getting any ideas."
"You're all I can handle," Dean joked. "How do you know they're swingers?"
Ross and John now shared a look. "They invited us."
"They did not!" You and Dean said at the same time. "Did you go?" You asked.
"No!" John said, laughing.
"We thought of it. What a story! But that's just not us," Ross added.
"Can I actually ask a question," you said. "I'm not trying to bring down the mood or anything, but those murders that happened in this neighborhood..."
"Jeez, Y/N, could you pick a more inappropriate dinner conversation?" Tori asked, obviously trying to shame you.
"I know Dean asked a bit and he told me everything, but it's kind of spooky." You acted the scared girl, and Dean acted the brave husband, grabbing your hand. "I mean, two couples?"
"It was a few months ago now," Ross said, "I'm sure we're safe."
"But what even happened?"
"Ugh nobody really knows," Tori said. "One day there were just police cars outside their houses and then we heard it on the news."
"Did you hear that one rumor?" Thomas, Tori's husband that was apparently at the table this whole time, asked.
"What rumor?"
"Apparently they found like this weird stuff in both houses. Like piles of skin or something," Thomas' face scrunched up in disgust at just the thought.
"Oh my God," you said.
"Who's skin?" John asked, horrified.
"I don't know. My buddy's a cop and he just told me it smelled bad and looked even worse," Thomas answered.
Tori now huffed in her seat. "That's enough. Judy and Dennis are almost here, and we're not talking about this with them. They were friends with the couples."
You and Dean shared a knowing look. The Smiths were now suspect number one.
Eventually Judy and Dennis arrived, greeted by hugs and warm food.
The dinner itself was nice, which you hated to admit. Tori might have been insufferable, but her cooking certainly wasn't. And the night was made all the sweeter by the daggers Tori threw your way anytime Dean grabbed your hand or you placed your hand on his thigh.
"Should we play a game?" Tori asked. "We have a dart board out back. I'm getting pretty good." She looked Dean at that last part, trying to see if she'd impressed him.
"Yeah, let's do it," Ross agreed.
You all followed Tori outside. It was a cool night, the sun had set long ago, but the backyard was lit up nicely.
"First to 201 points wins," Tori said, holding up three darts.
Tori started, of course. And to her credit, she was pretty good at darts. She started with hitting the 15, and ended with two 20s. Everybody else was middle of the road, but then Dean went. The show off hit all 20s, tossing you a self satisfied smirk as he handed you the darts.
"Not bad," you complimented. "But check this out." Years of throwing knives at any monster you could name had trained you for this moment. This moment to destroy some annoying housewife. Your first dart hit the green of the bullseye, pulling impressed sounds from those around you. You then hit the triple 20 and the regular 20, trying to give everyone a fighting chance.
If looks could kill, you'd be dead. Because while everybody else cheered you on, Tori stood with her arms crossed, obviously trying not to scream.
You and Dean made quick work of darts, finishing the game before the others even broke 150.
"How did you both get so good at darts?" Tori asked, obviously trying to hide her displeasure.
"We took a class," you said, wrapping your arms around Dean.
"Yeah, Y/N bought us tickets for this class run by some dart expert for our... was it fifth year anniversary?" Dean said, continuing with the lie.
"Fourth," you corrected him. "Fifth year you bought us that overnight stay in that castle."
"Now that was romantic, let me tell you guys," Dean said, laughing.
"Should we play again?" Tori asked.
"Oh, I think we should be getting home," Dennis Smith answered. "It's getting pretty late."
"But we should do this again!" Judy said. "Maybe we can host next time."
"That'd be great," you agreed quickly. "We should get going too."
You all moved to hug goodbye. Just before wrapping your arms around Judy, you pulled your silver necklace from your dress, hoping it would touch her. And just to be safe, you placed your hand, which wore your silver wedding ring, onto Judy's shoulder.
And she flinched.
"Oh!" You exclaimed, pretending not to know what happened. "I'm so sorry, did I pull your hair? Sometimes it gets stuck in my jewelry."
"Yeah, I think you did," Judy said, forcing her features not to show too much pain.
"I'm so sorry," you apologized. "How about we host dinner tomorrow, as a way to say sorry."
"Sure, we're in!" Tori agreed.
"Oh, uh-"
"Great," Dean said, stopping you from uninviting her. "We'll see you guys tomorrow. Let's say 7?"
"Perfect," Dennis said, grabbing his wife and walking around Tori and Thomas' house.
"Can't wait for dinner tomorrow," Tori said. "I'm so excited to try your cooking."
You smiled at her as sweetly as possible. "It'll be so much fun."
Tori hugged Dean goodbye, holding him for way too long, especially with you and her own husband right there. Then you both made your way back to your house. But you couldn't push away the annoyed feeling you got at how smug Tori looked, like she knew you couldn't cook for shit, like she knew you could do nothing about her hugging Dean for as long as she wanted. So just before you were out of eyesight, you grabbed Dean and brought his lips to yours.
Unlike last time, Dean didn't hesitate to respond. It was like he knew it was coming. His hand fell to the small of your back and pulled you close to him, practically lifting you off the ground. Your own hands snaked their way around his neck, letting you pull yourself even closer to him. Your mouths moved against each other's, and you found one of your hands slightly tangling in his hair.
"Dean-" you started in a low voice.
"Good thinking," he said, cutting you off. "The Smiths are watching us. Probably pretty suspicious with how good we are at darts. Gotta make sure they know we're just some married couple."
Your brain was trying to process his words after that kiss, so you just started nodding. Right. The hunt. The kiss was for the monsters, not to stake your claim on anybody or anything. Just for the hunt. For the monsters.
"Here, I'll pick you up. Wrap your legs around me," Dean instructed, giving you no chance to reply or argue, as he easily lifted you off the ground. His hands stayed steady on your back, and he carried you into your house, your foreheads touching the whole time.
As soon as the door was closed behind you, he dropped you down, giving you a big smile. "We're good at this!" He exclaimed.
"Yeah, really good," you agreed, still trying to get your mind straight, trying to desperately ignore that feeling of disappointment in you. "I guess we've got a lot to do tomorrow, so I think I'll just go to bed."
"Ah c'mon, let's play some cards or something. We've got beer," Dean suggested, moving to the kitchen.
"I really think I should just go to bed."
"But we probably found the monsters and they sure as heck don't suspect us after our little show, so we can just-"
"Dean, no." You said firmly, interrupting him. You hated the edge you felt in your voice, hated admitting to yourself that you were somewhat hurt. And that it was your own fault. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning."
And with that you went upstairs and instantly into your room, closing the door behind you.
You sunk onto the bed, instantly berating yourself. What an idiot. Of course Dean didn't go from hating your guts to liking your guts to fancying your guts in 24 hours. And you shouldn't have flipped this quickly either.
Dean has always been attractive, and now that you didn't hate him, you were just feeling a little infatuated. That was it. You liked him as a human, nothing more. The kiss was for the hunt, to keep the monsters off your trail. For that kiss to mean anything more would mean you had feelings for the man, and you certainly did not.
It was easier when you hated him.
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Show Time - Part 2
Summary: You're introduced to the neighborhood and get a taste of what it's like being Dean's wife. Maybe Dean isn't as bad as you first thought...
Part One
You could see all the neighbors outside on the street, setting up tables and tents. It was just about time for your big debut, the most difficult role you’d ever had to play: Dean’s devoted, obsessed wife.
You needed to gather information about the murders, of course, so that was job number one. Job number two, however, was to make Dean regret being such a sexist dick and telling the men you would be all over him.
You pounded back one more shot, making a total of 3 in the span of thirty minutes, and went to brush your teeth to hide the smell. You needed some liquid courage for this next part and that buzz in your head was certainly lowering your inhibitions.
“Dean! Let’s go!” You shouted, setting your toothbrush down and walked into the foyer.
“I’m waiting on you,” he shouted back, already at the door with his huge pot of chili in his hands. “Grab the silver,” he motioned to the forks, spoons, and knives on the little stand alone table.
Once you had everything gathered, you opened the door and followed Dean into the lion’s den.
As you both walked to a large tent housing all the food, you could feel dozens of eyes on you. And knowing that two of those eyes belonged to a murderous monster set you on edge. Dean set the chili down on a free spot and you placed the silverware at the end of the table, by a bunch of plates and napkins. You then instantly rushed to Dean’s side, and grabbed his arm, pulling yourself as close to him as possible.
Dean’s head snapped to you with a look of confusion, and you took the opportunity to place your free hand on the side of his face, forcing him to keep looking at you. “I’m just making sure I can live up to the devoted, handsy wife Standard you’ve set for me,” you said innocently, batting your eyelashes.
You watched Dean desperately try to think of something to say, but lost any coherent thought as your hand drifted from the side of his face, to his neck, down his torso, and landing on his firm lower stomach. You never broke eye contact and Dean’s small stutter breath didn’t go unnoticed by you.
“Y/N! Dean!” It almost felt like an effort to tear your eyes off Dean’s and look at the two men approaching you, Ross and John. Ross was leading John by his hand, swimming through the crowd towards you. “Oh it’s so good you two are here.”
You slid your hand around Dean’s waist, now leaning into him in a side hug. “Ross! John! I’m so happy you guys are here. I’m actually kind of nervous about meeting everyone, I really needed to see some friendly faces.”
“Don’t you worry about a thing,” Ross comforted you. “Everybody is just so excited to meet you. The two new lovebirds in the neighborhood.”
"You'll have to take me around and introduce me," you said.
"Oh I would be delighted!" Ross didn't hesitate to grab your hand start pulling you towards the crowd of neighbors.
"Woah!" Dean called out, holding onto your hand so Ross couldn't pull you too far away. "I just got her back! At least let me get a kiss goodbye." You forced out a laugh and tried to keep the 'dude-what-the-fuck' look off your face.
"Oh you'll get a kiss and some more when I'm back," you promised with a wink, then allowed Ross to pull you away from Dean.
There was a blur of faces and names, you shook hands, hugged, laughed at horrible jokes, all the while keeping a mental Rolodex of the suspicious neighbors. Which was all of them.
"Ross, this neighborhood is not big enough to house all these people you just introduced me to." You needed to sit down and dunk your hands in a bowl of hand sanitizer.
He rolled his eyes at you, a smile playing at his lips. "Well maybe some of the losers from the street over joined our party too," he shrugged, "can't blame them."
"Do you see Dean around? I'm sure he's missing me by now." You craned your neck around, trying to spot him.
"By the grill," Ross turned you around, pointing you towards a group of men, Dean amongst them.
"I'll catch up with you later," you promised, then made your way over to your fake husband.
There were five men around the grill, counting Dean. All of them looked similar enough, like any of them could have been on the Bachelor; white, tallish, brown hair. Dean, however, definitely stood out. You couldn't deny the small smug feeling that bloomed in you; you had the hottest husband and everybody here had to know it.
Hot, maybe, you amended yourself, But an asshat all the same.
Some of the men noticed you approaching and started elbowing Dean, mischievous smirks crossing their faces. Ah yes, the sex kitten approaches, you thought, a fire sparking in your stomach.
"There you are handsome," you said, pushing yourself into Dean's side, "'been looking for you."
"You found me," Dean said, glancing at the men and giving them a wink.
What. A. Dick.
"Come here. I missed you," you said, pulling his face to yours before your better judgement could stop you. Your lips met and you were intent on giving the show Dean had promised these men. Dean had a moment of hesitation, but followed your lead as you opened your mouth slightly. As Dean responded, his hands moving to cup the sides of your face, you couldn't stop a small sigh from escaping you. It was a damn good kiss.
You don't know how long you had been kissing, or how long you would have kissed, if one of the men hadn't cleared their throats, bringing you and Dean back to the here and now.
"Sorry," you said sheepishly, biting your bottom lip in faux modesty, "it was a hard week without him."
"Oh we're sure it was hard for Dean too," one of the men agreed, causing the rest to laugh.
"Want a sausage?" The lead griller asked, pulling snickers from all the other men.
"She'll take a burger," Dean answered for you, voice hard, eyes narrowed on the grill-man.
"Oh, uh, sure," the man said, quickly getting you a bun and a burger. Dean ripped it out of the man's hands. "We're gonna go mingle," he announced, hand around your waist, and pulled you away from the group.
"My, what a protective husband I have," you said. "But, uh, thanks."
It felt weird to thank Dean, weird to have him defend you. But it wasn't unwelcome.
An unspoken truce fell over you for the next two hours. You both kept an eye on everybody using the silverware and continued to get to know the neighbors.
"The Winchesters!" You and Dean turned to the owner of that shrill voice, Tori. "I've been trying to find you two all night!" Tori was dressed in a long white pantsuit, her blonde hair put up in some sort of elaborate braid up-do. She was pulling along one of the wanna-be bachelors from the grill, but released him to pull Dean into a tight hug. "Oh it's just soooo good to see you!"
"Good to see you too," Dean said, barely managing to free himself from her embrace. "This is-"
"Y/N, yes I know! I saw her when she first got her, Deanie," Tori interrupted him. She offered you a hug, but was very quick to release you.
"And this must be your husband..." you said, glancing at the poor schmuck standing behind her.
"Thomas," she introduced him. "Deanie, that chili was just sooo good. You are such a good chef!"
"It's an old recipe," Dean shrugged. "Y/N's actually the real cook," he added, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in close.
"Oh, I've got nothing on you babe. You're the total package," you said, now resting a hand on his chest. "You know, he actually even cleans way more than me," you told Tori, now just saying anything to get under her skin. "And the foot massages this man gives... Wow. Such talented hands," you sighed dreamily.
"Right, well, I'm sure he's happy to do it all. He was such a good neighbor while you were away." Now Tori was trying to get a reaction out of you. Who acted this way? Dean was your fake husband and this random civilian wasn't going to disrespect you like that.
"Oh I'm sure," you said, offering her a warm smile. "I'm glad he wasn't too lonely when I was away. But, based on our reunion, you'd think he'd been on a deserted island for a week, not just in the burbs. I'm surprised I can even walk right now."
Tori's jaw dropped open, a scoff escaping her.
"With that being said," Dean jumped in, not giving you a chance to antagonize Tori further, "I think we better be going home." Dean waited a beat before adding, "I'm ready for round three." His hand slipped from your waist to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. You would have cut that hand off if the look on Tori's face hadn't filled you wish such joy.
"It was nice seeing you guys," you said, and pulled Dean towards your house. You said goodbye to a few other people on the way, and Dean grabbed the chili pot and silverware, all the while you felt Tori's eyes on your.
Once you were finally inside, door closed, you and Dean made eye contact. Then burst out into laughter.
"Who is that bitch!" You demanded, laughs of disbelief leaving you. "I can't believe the attitude! What the hell is she even trying to do? Steal my husband? Right in front of me? Oh. My. God!"
"Well, to be fair, I'm not your real husband."
"She doesn't know that!"
For some reason, that just set you both off in another burst of laughter.
You both made your way into the kitchen, a light air settling on you both. "But, uh, seriously, thanks for having my back."
Dean shrugged at that, placing the chili pot in the sink and filling it with water. "Gotta have the wife's back."
Dean's words made you feel some type of way, but you were forcing yourself to ignore that warm feeling spreading in your tummy. Those butterflies were probably just indigestion.
"Well, uh, I think I'm gonna head to bed. Maybe tomorrow we can figure out our biggest suspects and invite them for dinner or something."
"Good idea."
"Night, Dean."
"Night, Y/N."
And before whatever was happening could continue, you practically ran up the stairs. You didn't let yourself analyze that last interaction with Dean as you got ready for bed, didn't let yourself think about how it felt to be protected by him, be held by him, be kissed...
At least you had your own room! Some distance would be good. Some distance would let you remember how annoying, gross, and overall unreasonable Dean was. You were sure of it.
Tomorrow would be another day. You had to keep it together.
*
Tag requests: @strngtsblog @suckitands33 @kiraflowersworld
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Show Time - Part 1
Summary: When Sam Winchester calls you for help on a hunt, who are you to say no? Of course, things are a bit more complicated when the hunt involves you being fake-married to his ass of an older brother. How will you survive being a housewife, living in the suburbs, and being married to Dean?
"Say that again," you commanded, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. "Say it again slowly so I know that you know what you're saying."
Sam's lips pursed together and he barely contained an eye roll. "We need you to go undercover as Dean's wife."
"Okay, so you do know what you're asking. Are you feeling okay? Because-"
"Yeah, yeah, we get it!" Sam interrupted you, throwing his hands in the air. "You don't like my brother, you're sarcastic... Can we just skip to the part where you agree? There's a lot to brief you on."
"One quick question." That bitch face never left Sam, but he tilted his head in a 'yeah-sure-quick' fashion. "Why are you the one begging me and not Dean? I mean, where the hell even is he?"
"He's already on the case. The story right now is that he moved in a week early and the wife, you, is gonna join. We had to get him in and doing recon before someone else died."
You sighed and slowly sank down onto the motel room chair. You knew before Sam even asked that you would take the case. Hell, you broke every traffic law on the drive over when he said he needed your help; of course, he forgot to mention that you would have to pretend to be married to Dean Winchester of all people. But you wouldn't sit out when needed, couldn't.
"Alright, Sam, fill me in."
___
After a two hour debriefing you knew all you could without some extra research in the neighborhood. You were probably looking for a Shapeshifter, possibly a ghoul. Either way, the victims were left brutally murdered. So far two couples had died in the neighborhood, but the deaths were spaced out by a few months. And you also knew a bit more about the area you'd be staying. Sam had been kind enough to buy you a whole new wardrobe, 'stay-at-home-mom chic.' All in all, you were as prepared you could be.
Sam gave you the address and walked you to your car. "Dean's been mingling with the neighbors and invited to a block party tonight, so you'll be able to meet everybody. You're a house wife and Dean's in insurance. Try to get in with the other housewives."
"How 50's," you commented.
"Hence why we needed a girl," Sam agreed.
"Wait, Sam, why Dean?" The confused look on Sam's face told you he had no clue what you meant. "Why am I being fake married to Dean? Why not you? I mean, we're constantly at each other's throats."
Sam shrugged at that. "The neighborhood had seen me earlier when I was checking out the house for EMF. I told them I was the realtor."
"Great."
And with that you jumped into your car and started towards your new home, where your handsome hubby awaited you.
_____
Your new house, new base of operations, was just as picture perfect as the neighborhood itself. Manicured lawns, decorated porches, white picket fence. It was the suburbia of your nightmares.
The only thing that didn't go with the neighborhood was the sleek black car pulled into one of the driveways. If Dean had one redeeming quality, it was his taste in cars.
You pulled your beater of a truck in next to Dean's and hopped out. You grabbed your duffel back and slammed your door shut, then made your way to the entrance.
"Oh my god, Mrs. Winchester?" A shrill voice shouted from one of the other houses. You turned to the sound, forcing a cheery smile on your face.
You tugged at your cardigan, slightly worried you would instantly be pegged as an outsider. "Hi!" You waved to the blonde woman standing on the porch of the house next to yours. "You can call me Y/N!"
"Finally! A name! Your Deanie has been so secretive about you! We started to think you didn't exist." You forced out a laugh and tried not to frown at the use of the name Deanie. You may have hated the man, but that was still your fake husband.
"Well he probably just wants to keep me to himself. Speaking of, I haven't seen him in a week now, so I'm going to let myself in. I'll see you tonight..."
"Tori!"
"Tori," you finished, smiling at her.
She watched as you went to the door of your house, and you tried to be oblivious to it.
You unlocked the door and instantly smelled something delicious. "Honey, I'm home!" You shouted, slamming the door shut behind you.
Loud footsteps approached you and soon Dean Winchester stood at the other end of the hallway. "You've got to be kidding," he groaned. "We didn't know any other chick hunters?"
"Guess not," you said, giving him a flat smile. "You're welcome for coming to help, by the way."
"Look, I'm getting close to figuring out which of these psychos is the actual killer-psycho, so maybe you just head on out and I'll make something up."
"Yeah, 'cause that wouldn't be suspicious," you snorted. "Like it or not, we're stuck together."
"Well I don't like it."
"Yeah, no shit."
You both just stood for a moment, glaring at each other.
You broke first. "Alright what's that smell?"
"Chili for the block party."
"You're making chili?"
"I've got a kitchen!"
"Okay, don't get so defensive," you laughed. "I just thought I was the housewife."
"I thought I was the-" Dean repeated in a mocking high pitched tone, "shut it!" He then stomped his way back to the kitchen.
You rolled your eyes at him and dropped your bag onto the floor. You stood in place a moment, thinking of your next move. As much as you disliked Dean and loved pissing him off, you weren't going to save lives if you were at each other's throats.
Time to be... nice.
You made your way to the kitchen, where Dean was standing in front of a huge pot. It did smell damn good. And the kitchen was beautiful, tan marble counter tops, beautiful mahogany cabinets. You couldn't boil an egg and even you were tempted to cook.
"So what have you learned so far?" You asked, setting yourself on one of tall chairs by the counter.
Dean was silent for a moment, no doubt trying to find something witty to say. But, like always, words failed him and all he was left to do was answer. "Everybody has a different theory about the murders and suspects each other. The Marshalls saw the McRoys hanging out with the dead couple the night they died, but the Smiths thought the Marshalls hated the dead couple. And the Trumans just think the whole neighborhood was in on it."
You were silent as you went over his words, before finally saying, "are those really their names?"
"Well the Trumans are really the Trundles, but the rest are true."
"Jesus," you breathed out. "Anybody seem suspicious?"
"Not particularly," Dean shrugged. "But tonight's the first chance to really test anyone." He nodded towards a large pile of silverware on the counter. "I said I'd provide the forks."
"Smart," you commented, forcing yourself to give the compliment. "I guess I'll go shower and get ready for tonight."
"Shower's upstairs."
At that you left the kitchen, grabbing your bag and heading up the stairs.
The entire house was nice, just somewhat bland. It lacked any kind of character. The beige walls and white carpets were a nice change of pace to the usual dark, dirty, and stained ones that decorated every motel room, but it just felt stale. More than a week in a place like this and you'd surely go crazy.
Those feelings did not, however, transfer to the shower. A clean bathroom was not something you saw everyday, hell it wasn't something you saw every month. But damn, this bathroom with it's sparkling white porcelain and tiled shower floor devoid of mold... That was a thing of beauty. The water pressure alone forced a moan out of you.
After taking the longest shower of your life, and never running out of hot water, you changed into something slightly fancier than a sweater and jeans. When Sam had gone shopping for you, he knew exactly what to look for. You slipped into a knee-length, white summer dress, one with small sunflowers decorating the fabric. You had a pair of white shoes to go with it, then made your way downstairs.
Laughter stopped you before you entered the kitchen. You recognized Dean's laugh, it was obnoxious enough, but the others?
Only one way to find out...
You forced a smile and entered the kitchen, eyes going over the two new guests.
"Hey there sweetheart," Dean greeted you. "These two are our neighbors to the right, John and Ross."
"Nice to meet you guys," you said, extending a hand.
"Oh get that out of here! We're practically family!" The one man- John - said, pulling you into a hug.
After getting a slightly less enthusiastic hug from Ross, you moved to Dean's side, who slipped an arm right around your waist, no hesitation. Say what you wanted about Dean Winchester, but the man knew how to put on an act.
"So, Mrs. Winchester-"
"Y/N, please!" You interrupted. "Jeez, baby, did you tell nobody my name?"
"Oh he was so sneaky about you, so hush hush," Ross said. "Most of us thought you didn't even exist!"
You laughed at that and knocked your hip into Dean's in an obvious show of flirtation. "Just trying to keep me for yourself."
"Can you blame me?"
"You two are just too cute," Ross sighed.
"Y/N, do you like to read?" John asked.
You opened your mouth to respond, but were stopped short by Ross. "Oh, honey, the poor girl just got here! You can recruit her for your little book club later."
"Book club?" Dean asked.
"John and all the girls," Ross explained. "You guys meet what, like every other week? It's really just an excuse to drink wine and gossip."
"We're reading War and Peace if you'd like to join. We only started the book a week ago."
"That sounds really nice," you accepted, smiling warmly. "I can only clean the house so much every day. A book and some company would be great."
John gave you a small smile in return, then wrapped his arm around Ross'. "Well, we better get going," Ross sighed. "The party starts in an hour but people always go out early. And I refuse to be the last ones there."
You and Dean saw the two men out, keeping your arms wrapped around each other.
As soon as the door closed you split apart.
"Book club, huh?" Dean asked.
"Sounds like a chance to get some dirt," you shrugged.
Dean nodded at that. He had his hands in his pockets and rocked from his heel to the balls of his feet, face scrunched up in thought. "Uh, one quick thing about tonight..."
"Yeah?"
"Well, uh, see, I didn't know Sam would be sending you, so I might have, uh, talked a big game to some of the boys in the neighborhood..."
"Meaning?"
"I told them I had a hot wife who couldn't keep her hands off me," Dean finally got out. "So, you'll have to play it up." For a moment Dean looked ashamed, but after seeing the look of pure outrage on your face, his own features brightened. "And maybe cut the dress a little shorter. I want to see my woman's legs."
With a full out self-satisfied smirk, Dean left you in the foyer, fuming.
If Dean wanted a handsy wife, then a handsy wife he'd get.
You were going to make him regret this.
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Virgin!Reader Part 3
Summary: It's time to do the do so you don't die! Luckily Dean is there to take care of you.
Part Two
Warning: Smut! (First time ever writing, so please be gentle with me)
You would have been content just kissing Dean for the rest of your life. His hands held your head, his fingers tightly intertwined with your hair, creating a slight, delicious pressure. Your hands made their way to his neck, then the back of his head, holding him tight so he couldn’t move away from you.
You could have been anywhere in this moment, the motel, outside, in the impala. All your attention was on the man in front of you, on his tongue that slowly licked at your lips and danced with yours.
You felt a heat traveling through you, a heat you’d only ever known on nights by yourself, laying in bed and fantasizing about the very man you now held.
And that heat just grew, and grew, and grew until it burned and you had to step away from Dean.
But where was he?
You weren’t in the motel room now and that heat wasn’t coming from inside, but from your new environment. Fire surrounded you, light so bright you couldn’t even look around. Heat licked at your cheeks, your arms, everywhere. You were on fire.
Learn to embrace the heat, my Queen. Soon this will be your kingdom. That damn voice felt so close.
“No!” You shouted, taking a step forward, trying to get away from that voice.
“Y/N!”
That was the voice you wanted. You moved towards it.
“Y/N, what’s going on?”
And suddenly a cooling shadow fell on you, cradled you and protected you from the heat.
You risked opening your eyes and saw that you were back in the motel room. You were in Dean’s arms, being held so tight you could have suffocated. Your legs felt weak and your knees buckled. Dean swiftly pulled you towards the bed, setting himself on the edge and keeping you on his lap. “Y/N, cmon sweetheart.”
“Dean.” You were breathing heavily, still processing everything you’d seen, everything you’d felt. “Oh my god, Dean.”
“What happened?”
“It was so hot. It was… I don’t know what it was.” You didn’t want to think about it, if you kept thinking about it you’d surely go insane. “Dean, we need to get rid of this god.” You finally looked up at him, meeting his eyes.
“And you’re sure you want this?” He asked. “I know you need this to live, but I don’t want to… I couldn’t… I can’t take advantage of you.”
“Dean, I want this,” you promised him, pushing your lips lightly onto his. “I need this. I need you.”
And he didn’t need to be told twice.
Dean rolled you off his lap and onto the bed and climbed on top of you. “You tell me to stop if it’s too much. This is all about you.”
No way in hell were you going to tell this man to stop.
His lips moved towards yours and you leaned in, more than ready to feel his lips against yours. But he went past your lips and started peppering kisses along your neck, just under your ear. You couldn’t control the shiver that went through you.
His left hand went over your breast, massaging it slightly, before continuing down your body. He rested his hand on the button of your pants, fingertip gently caressing the skin of your stomach.
The teasing was more than you could take and you forced his head away from your neck and to your lips. “Please,” you whined against his mouth.
The smirk that you felt on his lips would have caused you to smack him, if he hadn’t popped the button on your jeans. His hand stayed over your underwear, the one nice pair of panties you owned. He applied a slight pressure, making your breath hitch in your throat.
“You ready for this, baby?”
“God yes,” you groaned, letting your hands roam his body. You went from his face, to his stupid jacked covered back, to the front of his pants. You cupped the bulge in his pants and your eyes met. Just then Dean slipped his hand into your panties, gently sliding a finger down your folds and teasing your entrance.
Just as you applied pressure to his hard on, he slid on finger in, both of you letting out a stuttered breath. As he continued to circle your insides, you undid his pants with shaky hands and tried to force them down. He tried to help you wriggle them off while continuing his handy work, but with a laugh you both had to separate.
“I’ll take off mine if you take off yours,” he joked.
You both laughed and quickly shed your pants, then laid back and watched Dean kick his off, stumbling as he did. “Shirt and jacket too,” you said, taking in his exposed legs.
“Bossy,” he quipped, but obliged your request.
Soon you had Dean, in only socks and his boxers, crawling over you on the bed. His hands came to the bottom of your shirt, and he gave you a questioning look, asking permission. You sat up in response, letting him pull your shirt off.
He let out a breath as he drank in the sight of you.
He kissed you hard, gently pushing you back to the bed. His kissed down your body, stopping at your exposed breasts, taking on nipple into his warm mouth and rubbing the other under his warm, calloused hand.
The lightning that shot through your body forced a moan through your lips and your hands tangled in Dean’s hair.
“Gonna explore that more later,” Dean growled out, continuing his kisses down your body. “But for now…” he pulled down your panties, making quick work of throwing them to the floor, “I’ve got more pressing matters.” Dean kissed your inner thighs, then set his sights on your bottom half. One hand came forward and spread you in front of him and his tongue gently made contact with you.
But that gentle touch lasted only a minute before his hands slipped under your ass, pulling you as close to his face as possible. As his tongue ravished your insides his nose pressed against your clit, creating a delicious pressure. You held tightly onto his hair, breathing heavily and doing all you could not to buck your hips up and down.
“Dean,” you whined out, practically praying his name.
Your voice only seemed to urge Dean on, as he pulled you even closer to him, increasing the pressure everywhere. You felt a spring inside you, coiled and ready to burst. You were so close, teetering I’ve the edge, when Dean pressed his thumb to your clit. You saw white, and could no longer control your hips as you bucked up and down and rode the wave of bliss through your body.
Dean pulled away from you and climbed up your body, his mouth glistening. “You’re perfect,” he praised you.
“Dean, please,” you panted, pleaded, begged.
“You’re on top, Princess,” he told you. “You decide what speed we go.”
Dean laid down on the bed next to you, quickly ridding himself of his underwear. You didn’t need to be told twice and popped up, placing yourself above him. You watched as he rolled the condom on, rubbing up and down his thighs in excitement.
Once the condom was firmly in place, he grabbed your hips and helped guide you above him. You grabbed his hard dick, placing his head at your entrance, and slowly let yourself sink down.
The was a stretching, a burn. Deanna grip on you was tight, fingers digging into your hips. Eventually he was fully in you, both of you breathing heavily.
“Fuck, Dean,” you whimpered.
“Move slowly,” he coached you. “We don’t do anything until you’re ready.”
You slowly moved your hips in small circles. Your clit was pressed right against his skin, that pressure sending bolts of electricity through your body. And soon enough, that initial sting was a distant memory, replaced with a feeling so perfect, you knew you’d be chasing it for the rest of your life.
Dean was letting out small grunts, trying to contain his own moans.
Experimentally you raised off him and sunk back down. Dean’s eyes screwed shut and he couldn’t contain himself anymore, loud sounds of pleasure tearing through his lips.
You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his and continued to lift your hips up and down. Your lips came together, tongues mingling. Dean’s hands were on your ass, pressing you down hard on him, giving your clit the pressure it needed.
You could have stayed like that forever, the feeling so damn perfect. “I’m gonna…” Dean started, eyes screwed shut.
Seeing him like that, so wrecked, practically set you off. You just hummed in response, not trusting your voice, and increased your speed.
You kept your eyes on Dean as moans tore through his throat. His lips formed into a small “o” and his eyebrows raised. His hips stuttered and ragged breaths left Dean’s mouth.
That was a sight to behold, a sight so beautiful your own body matched him. You felt your insides contacting and fluttering, leaving you gasping for air.
Slowly, you both calmed down. You fell to the bed beside Dean, and he sluggishly reached his arm around you, pulling you to his side. You felt heavy, sedated. Content.
“Oh my god,” you whispered, leaning up and kissing the corner of Dean’s mouth.
“You sure you’re a virgin?” Dean asked, getting his breath back.
“A virgin, not a saint,” you corrected him.
You both laid together in silence for a moment. Dean pulled you close to him and kissed the top of your head. “Shower?” He asked.
“God yes,” you groaned, all the wetness between your legs leaving you slightly uncomfortable.
You both forced yourselves up and started shuffling to the bathroom.
Just then a knock on the door made you both jump.
“I got it,” Dean said, wrapped a towel around his waist as you hid behind the door of the bathroom.
Dean opened the door and you peaked out, seeing a good looking man in a suit. “Hey, is Y/N here?” The man asked.
“Nope,” Dean said, shutting the door on him.
“Sam never cancelled the escort?” You asked, laughing as you and Dean entered the shower. “He didn’t think you’d get the job done?”
Dean swatted at your ass, turning the water on. “Maybe he thought I’d chicken out,” he admitted after a moment. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
You smiled warmly at Dean and pulled his lips to yours, giving a gentle, loving kiss.
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Virgin!Reader Part 2
Summary: You've got two days to lose your virginity, one man that seems too excited to find you a lover, the other ready to stop you at every turn. What on Earth will you do?
Part One
Just two hours ago the voice of an ancient god started rattling around your head. Two hours ago you found out you would die in two days if you didn’t lose the V-card. No pressure.
“We need to go right now,” Sam was saying, pacing from one end of the room to the next, his hand constantly running through his hair. “You’re pretty, it’ll be easy to find someone to sleep with you!”
“Let’s not rush,” Dean ground out. Unlike Sam, he stayed in one spot, arms crossed, watching his brother pace from one side of the room to the next, eyes dark. “We’ve got forty-eight hours. We can come up with a real plan. Get out of town, bunker down in Bobby’s panic room-“
“This is a god, Dean, not some ghost or demon. We don’t know how powerful this thing is! I don’t think salt is gonna stop a god.”
Sam and Dean kept arguing, Sam in a rush to get you laid, Dean practically wanting to throw you in a nunnery.
“I agree with Sam,” you finally spoke up, stopping the men dead in their tracks. Sam finally stopped pacing and Dean turned his glare onto you. “It’ll kill the god, we don’t know if running away will help. Let’s just go to the nearest bar and I’ll pick someone.” You were defeated at this rate, there was nothing you could do, your only options were to get laid or die.
“Y/N-“ Dean started, shaking his head.
“No Dean. It’s the only option.” His insistence that you not sleep with someone hurt. You always had a soft spot for Dean, sure, you drove each other crazy, but there was love there. Maybe even a little bit more than the friendly, sister-like love you reserved for Sam. But obviously it was one-sided.
“Do you even know what you’d be doing?”
“I’m not a nun! I’ve made out with men, we just never got to the bedroom.”
“Your first time should be good. Those guys won’t know what you want if you don’t.” What was Dean’s problem?
“Dean!” You shouted, face turning red. “I’ve… I mean I have… I know what I like,” you finally finished.
Dean’s eyes were dark and his jaw was set. It would’ve taken a crane to move him, let alone get him to drive you to a bar.
“Dean, don’t be a douche,” Sam finally joined the fight, and on your side! “We may have two days, but who knows what having the god in her head is gonna be like. We need to get her laid and now.”
“Dean,” you pulled in a shaky breath, “this is my life. I’m not risking it because I need an orgasm my first time.”
And then he crumbled. Without so much as a word, he stomped out of the motel and slid into the impala, slamming the door behind him.
Y/N… it was the damn voice again. It almost sounded louder than last time. But at the moment you had bigger fish to fry than the god in your head.
It was a quick, tense drive to the bar. As you walked in, you tried to hide the look of distaste that threatened to come over your features. It was a dirty, smoke-filled bar. Despite it being four in the afternoon at least four different men were drunk.
Dean walked straight to the bar, leaving you and Sam to find a table. “I’ll get the table, you get me five shots of something strong,” you told Sam, pushing him towards the bar.
You’d flirted with men before, hell you’d flirted with monsters before too! But this was different. This was flirting for your life. Flirting to get a man to sleep with you. And boooooy were there slim pickings.
Sam made his way to your table, carefully carrying a tray of shots and liquor. “Tequila,” he said to you, setting the tray down, “and a jack and coke.”
You nodded and solemnly picked up a shot glass. “To not dying,” you cheersed, clinking your glass to his and tossing it back. You shivered at the taste, but quickly took two more shots. A small groan fell past your lips, but you just grabbed your jack and coke.
“Woah woah!” Sam said, grabbing your hand. “Slow it down. At this rate it’ll be illegal if anyone sleeps with you.”
Liquid courage was already settling in, and suddenly the men in the bar didn’t seem so hopeless. “Sure thing, Sammy.”
You and Sam sat back, drank, and surveyed your options. “That one?” You asked, tipping your glass towards a man at the bar.
“No,” Sam scoffed. “He’s like fifty and miss teeth.”
“Oh.” You looked at the man for a moment, head tilted. “Maybe all those shots was a mistake.”
“Ya think?”
“I’m gonna get a water,” you decided, getting up from the table and making your way to the bar top. You gripped it right, helping you stay up straight and not topple over.
“Jesus, sweetheart,” Dean muttered, apparently next to you.
“Dean,” you groaned, now throwing your arms onto him to steady you. Much better than a bar top. “There’s nobody here to bone.”
“Maybe we should’ve listened to my plan after all,” Dean said, turning slightly in his seat to look at you.
“Dean, my way will take out the god. No more people die!” One of Dean’s hands settled on your waist, stopping you from swaying any more.
“I’m just worried,” he finally admitted, eyes on you.
Your drunken mind couldn’t come up with a response.
Y/N… so beautiful. A deep voice rumbled through your head, making you squint your face in confusion.
“Did you say something?” You asked Dean.
“No. Was it Hitzo… whatshisface?”
“Oh! Yeah, probably,” you laughed out loud at your forgetfulness. “I bet he’d bone me. He thinks I’m pretty.” An accomplished smile spread over your features.
“Anybody here would bone you,” Dean sighed, rolling his eyes. “Let’s just go back to the motel. Your not getting anybody like this.”
You were in no state to argue.
It felt like time skipped and suddenly you were at the motel, in bed. “Did I do it?” You mumbled, head heavy on your pillow. “Did I get laid?”
“No, sweetheart, V-card intact,” Dean said, sitting next to you on the bed. “Drink some water.”
You took the glass from him and forced some water down. Too much dribbled down your jaw, but you barely noticed. “Thanks. Nighty night.”
Dean had barely wrapped his hand around the glass, before soft snores were falling through your lips.
***
You felt your dry mouth before you opened your eyes. A groan tore from your lips as you forced yourself to let the motel light into your eyes.
“Mornin’, champ!” Dean called out, making you wince in pain. “Here, got you a breakfast burrito.”
Suddenly something warm and wrapped in greasy paper lanes in front of you. The smell both made you want to vomit and made your mouth water. “Thanks.” You sounded like a man, like a man at death’s door.
The rest of the morning was slow. Sam came back to the motel at some point, apparently having gone out to do some recon.
“I might have found someone for you,” Sam said, setting himself on your bed.
“Jesus Sam, let her wake up,” Dean groused, moving to the other motel bed, creating a little circle so you could all talk.
“We’ve barely got more than twenty four hours,” Sam scoffed, “and I think you’ll be most comfortable with this guy.”
“Oh, sure, super comfortable with a total stranger she’s never met.” Dean’s attitude was pissing you off.
“Just tell me about him, Sam,” you pleaded.
“Okay, well, uh, this guy provides a service for women and part of it can be sex,” Sam had on his analytical voice, but that didn’t hide what he was actually saying.
“A prostitute?” You choked out, eyebrows raised.
“Escort!” Sam quickly corrected you. “And this guy has great reviews and can be here by dinner time. And, get this, he even regularly helps people lose their virginity. So he’s an expert!”
“Well, good try, Sammy, but I think we all know that’s not gonna-“
“Okay,” you interrupted Dean, “let’s set it up.”
“What!” Dean shouted, making you recoil from the loud sound.
“Jesus Dean, volume!”
“How is this a good idea?” He demanded.
“Because I’ve got no other options!” You all but yelled. “I’m hungover and dehydrated and I need to get laid so I don’t die!”
Y/N, join me. Be my Queen…
“And this voice just keeps saying creepy shit to me!” You added.
“Just wait until the hallucinations,” Sam said, oh so unhelpfully.
“Fuck off. Call the escort.”
“This is so stupid,” Dean muttered, standing up and stomping out of the motel room. The slamming of the motel room was a shot through your head.
“What the fuck is his problem?” You were the one about to die. You were the one who had to sleep with some rando. You were the one that had a hangover.
“He’s just being Dean,” Sam assured you, phone to his ear. “Hey! This is-“
And then you tuned him out, rolling over on the bed. It was gonna be a long day.
Eventually you were able to force yourself out of bed and into the shower. You decided to shave, well, everything. By the time you left the bathroom you felt human. Hell, you even felt up for losing your virginity.
“He’s clean, right?” You asked, sitting in the motel with Sam, watching the clock tick down. T minus two hours until escort boy showed up.
“Oh, yeah! Always wraps it up and even sent me a copy of STD tests. I wouldn’t put you in danger.”
“God this is so fucking weird,” you groaned, throwing your head back.
Y/N, you will be my sun and I will be your moon.
“And this fucking god is so weird.” Just as the words left your mouth, you were suddenly no longer in the motel room, but floating through space. You couldn’t feel the motel chair under you, couldn’t hear anything. You were in total blackness, the twinkling starts your own sign that you weren’t dead.
And just as quick as it started, you were back in the motel room, the chilly air causing goosebumps on your skin. “What. The. Fuck.”
“What?” Sam asked.
“I was in space! I was here and then I was floating in space!” You’d jumped off the seat, eyes wide in panic.
“It’s the hallucinations!” Sam assured you, also standing and holding out a calming, steadying hand to you. “They start once you’re down to twenty four hours.”
“Jesus,” you were still breathing heavily, but starting to calm down. “I hope that escort’s early.”
Sam’s phone went off and he quickly answered it. “Dean?” You tried to listen in, but Sam walked away from you, listening intently to whatever Dean was saying. “Are, uh, Are you sure?”
“What?” You whispered, motioning to Sam to put the phone on speaker.
“Okay, yeah. I can do that.” Another pause. “Yeah, now.” And then he hung up.
“What did he say?” You asked, watching as Sam grabbed his jacket and bag. “Where are we going?”
“I’m going to, uh, help Dean with an idea,” he said. “You stay here. Wait for the escort. Call if there’s any issues.”
And then Sam was gone.
“Well fuck me too,” you grumbled, flopping onto the bed.
Nervous energy filled you. Laying on the bed wasn’t an option. You paced back and forth, hands wringing in anxiety. You’d tried on several outfits, but you didn’t exactly keep anything sexy with you on the road. You ended up just settling on jeans and a tank top. No bra. What was the point?
A knock on the door practically made you shout out in surprise. You were more nervous than you’d thought. “Coming!” You called out, wiping your sweaty on hands on your jeans and rushing to the door.
You pulled in a deep breath, and pulled the door open, painting on a bright smile.
That smile was quickly replace with a confused look. “Dean?”
You quickly took in the man standing before, Dean Winchester standing before you. He’d ditched the brown leather jacket or something a bit smarter, a bit more form fitting. He held a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other.
“Can I, uh, can I come in?” His uncertainty made you uncertain, but of course you let him in.
“Dean, what’re you-“
“I need to get this out, or else it’s gonna kill me,” he pleaded. “I don’t want you sleeping with a random person, don’t want you sleeping with an escort. I want you to be with someone that cares about you and will take care of you. And I think it should be me.” His eyes finally met yours, a million emotions behind his green eyes. “I want it to be me.”
“Dean, I can’t ask that if you,” you said quietly. “I don’t want to ruin what we have.”
“It wouldn’t,” he assured you, dropping the flowers and whiskey onto the table and standing in front of you. He gently held your hands in his. “I want to save you.”
“I don’t think I would be able to go back,” you whispered, scared that if you spoke too loudly he’d come to his senses. “Once I’ve had you… it’d hurt too much.”
“I’m not asking you to go back.”
You stared at Dean for what felt like minutes, but was only seconds. “Promise?”
“Always,” and then his lips were on yours, soft, warm, needy. That was all it took for you to jump in, to give 100% of yourself to Dean Winchester, the man who made your blood boil and heart race.
And while the excitement of having Dean all to yourself, or knowing he’d still be yours tomorrow, was forthright in your mind, one small fear was screaming in the background.
You were going to lose your virginity to Dean Winchester.
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Fic #1
Summary: you and the boys are on another hunt, this time to investigate the death of three women. But when you find out the cause, you’re put in immediate danger.
Trips to the morgue weren’t your favorite part of the job, but the power suit certainly was. Dark blue, hugging your figure, and deep enough pockets to fit your favorite knife… what more could a girl ask for? Sam and Dean walked ahead of you, leading the way into the morgue.
“Vic’s name was Leila Moores?” Dean asked as you all stepped around the dead body, the coroner at the head.
“Yeah, died of a heart attack, it seems.” The coroner seemed almost bored, his gray hair and ashes skin doing nothing to liven him up.
“Any weird markings on the skin?”
“What? No, just some pure, untainted skin.” The coroner shrugged at that, as if that wasn’t the creepiest phrasing ever. “Such a waste,” he muttered, shaking his head and pulling the blanket over the dead girl’s face.
“A waste?” You repeated, eyebrow raised.
“Yeah, a waste,” the coroner repeated. “Such a pretty girl, now dead.”
“But this isn’t the only dead girl that’s popped up in town,” you added. This man was looking more and more like a suspect the longer you were around him. Who knew what kind of monster was hiding under that gray skin.
“Right, no, of course. It’s been a tragedy. But this one… well, she didn’t exactly get to experience life to the fullest.”
What then hell was this man trying to say? “All the other girls were about the same age,” Sam pointed out.
“Right, sure. But this one’s hymen is still intact.”
There was a brief moment of silence as you all realized just what this coroner was saying. “Ah. Such a waste.” Your flat tone and hard eyes meant nothing to the coroner, who just sighed and nodded in agreement.
“You don’t have to tell me. It’s nice to see more girls saving themselves, like they used to, but for nobody to even get to-“
“I’m gonna stop you there,” you ground out. Anger wasn’t the best word to describe what you were feeling. Rage, rage would be more appropriate. “You can-“
Dean swooped in and saved you from giving this man a tongue lashing so severe, he’d never be able to look at a woman again. “We’ll be heading out.” A strong arm wrapped itself around your waist, forcing you to turn around and out of the morgue.
“Dean you should’ve let me-“
“Blow our cover?”
“Oh cmon!! That guy was a grade A creep.”
“Let’s lodge an anonymous complaint and get on with the hunt,” Sam suggested. “Can do anything about every creep in the world.”
At that Sam and Dean turned around and started towards the exit.
Maybe not every creep in the world, but I can do something about one, you thought, rushing back to the morgue.
***
Fifteen minutes later you slid into the back of the impala.
“Do we even wanna know?” Dean asked in almost a growl.
“Nope.” Your voice was pleasant, a sweet, innocent smile playing at your lips.
“You can’t just-“ Dean started to berate you.
“Stop one asshole from ever being an asshole again?”
“What did you do?” Sam asked, turning to look at you. “Oh, uh, you’ve got a little blood…” Sam motioned to his left cheek, and you quickly wiped your own. “You know what? Better if we don’t know.”
And then the impala was moving. You could tell Dean was still pissed at you, with his tense shoulders and white grip on the steering wheel.
“Dean’s gonna drop me off at Penny Stancheon’s house. Victim number one. I’ll question the family,” Sam filled you in. “Then you two will go to Georgia Fairmont’s place and question her boyfriend.”
“Oh but Sam maybe I should go with you?” Stay with Dean when he’s pissed at you, or go with Sam who gets too scared to tell you off… no competition.
“Nope. You’re with me. Gotta keep an eye on you.” Dean sounded almost smug.
“I’m not a toddler,” you muttered, crossing your arms in defiance.
“No, of course not. You’re just a chick with impulse control issues that’s gonna blow our cover and get the real feds called.”
“He’s got a point,” Sam agreed, throwing you a pained look.
You grumbled some more, but at the end of the day the decision had been made.
It was a quick drive to Georgia’s place from Penny’s. You and Dean were quickly let into a small house by Georgia’s boyfriend, Derek.
“We’re sorry for your loss,” you started,” and we’ll make this quick. We just have a few questions.”
Dean started with all the usual questions, sulfur, cold spots. You took the opportunity to look around the room. Georgia had various sporting trophies set out, and there was an odd amount of crosses on the walls. Every picture of Georgian and her boyfriend might as well have been pictures of siblings, each with an arm stiffly wrapped around the other.
During a lull in the conversation you asked, “What was your relationship with Georgia like?”
Poor Derek looked down at the floor, obvious longing and sorrow in his eyes. “It was good. We were so similar on so many things. We both liked sports, we liked the same movies, heck we even had the same friends! And do you know how rare it is to find someone who’s faith matches your own?” Tears filled Derek’s eyes. “She was perfect for me. And only me.”
“Was Georgia a Virgin?” Any and all tact was gone as a theory started to build. A theory that worried you to no end.
“Um, I don’t see how that’s any of your-“
“We believe there might be a connection between all the recent victims,” you quickly explained.
“Like a serial killer going after virgins?” Derek seemed appalled. “Well, uh, in that case… yes. We were saving ourselves until marriage.”
As Dean wrapped up the conversation with Derek, you quickly texted Sam, telling him to ask Penny’s parents the same.
Once back at the motel, which the knowledge that all three women were virgins, the research began. And it was quick work too. All three victims died in a way that left no cuts, burns, or blemishes. All that was left on each victim was a sliver of gray hair where there hadn’t been before.
“Okay, so get this,” Sam started, “apparently the Aztec god, Huitzilopochtli, would regularly be given virgin sacrifices. But once the conquistadors invaded, those stopped. But then some sort of plague went around to all the unmarried women, which left them dead, but with a strip of gray hair where there wasn’t before.”
“Okay, so this hitzala-“
“Huitzilopochtli,” Sam corrected, giving Dean a pointed look.
“Right, him. So this god gets hungry for Virgin blood and just starts taking it? Where’s he been the last thousand years?”
“I don’t think he’s ever gone away. Just traveled from small town to small town. There’s cases like this going back hundreds of years.”
“Well, at least we know the guy’s type,” you spoke up, trying to remain calm. While Sam has been talking a lot had grown deeper and deeper in your stomach. “Is there any way to know who the next victim will be?”
“There are reports of the women hearing his voice and hallucinating.”
“Derek didn’t mention that,” Dean said.
“Yeah, but they were crazy religious. She might’ve thought it was a demon or something. Kept it to herself,” you explained.
“Penny’s parents mentioned she was acting strange before she died. Eyes constantly going over the room, like she was looking for someone,” Sam added.
Okay, so as long as you didn’t hear any voices, you’d be okay.
“That doesn’t help us a whole lot in finding the next victim.” Dean plopped down in the chair next to you. “Can’t exactly go up and ask a girl if she’s a virgin. Hey! Maybe we can get re-virginized!”
“Huitzilopochtli only goes after women,” Sam said, shaking his head.
“Well, maybe I can help,” you said, voice quieter than normal.
“We’re not using you as bait,” Dean decided.
“I don’t think becoming a virgin will work anyway,” Sam dismissed you. “It’s too risky, anyway. We can’t waste time watching you if he’s gonna go for the real deal.”
“Yeah, right, about that…” you could look them in the eye. You just stared at your hands in your lap, twiddling your thumbs nervously.
“Y/N, there’s no way,” Dean said.
“Wait, really?” Sam asked.
“How in the hell-“ Dean started.
“It Just never happened, okay!” You finally exploded, throwing your hands up and slapping them onto your thighs. “I hunted with my dad until I was nineteen, so I couldn’t exactly sneak any men past his protective ass. Then I was with Bobby for a few years, same thing. And anytime I had the chance, the options were just…” you face screwed up in distaste. “And then we all got together and life has just been go go go and so I never did it with anybody!” Your face was beet red, your chest heaving slightly from the word diarrhea you’d just released. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence as both men just stared at you. “But, um, I’m happy to help,” you added weakly.
“No-“ Dean started to say, but was quickly cut off by Sam.
“Well, maybe. So far everything I read says the only way to kill the god, or at least put him out of commission for a thousand years, is for the Virgin to lose her virginity once he’s picked her.”
Sam’s words swam in your head for a second. “So, wait. I’d get picked and then I’d have to-“
“Not happening!” Dean decided, standing up from his seat.
“Dean, shut up,” you rolled your eyes. “I mean, I guess there’s no time like the present. Virginity is a stupid concept anyway.” You knew you were trying to convince yourself more than Sam and Dean. In truth, the whole concept freaked you out. You didn’t want some random dude. You wanted someone you trusted. Someone you were attracted to. Someone you knew would take care of you. “But how can we guarantee I’ll get picked?”
And with the comedic timing of an 80’s sitcom, you heard a low, growling voice, “Y/N…”
“-and then we can hopefully make sure it’s you,” Sam finished whatever he was saying.
“Uh, well, I guess there’s slim picking of virgins in town, because I heard him.”
“Motherfucker,” Dean muttered, moving closer to you. “How long do we have, Sammy?”
“Penny’s family said they noticed her acting weird two days before she…”
“Yeah, I got it.” Two days. You had two days to lose your virginity or you’d die.
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Hey!
I used to write SPN Oneshots a while ago, but life got busy and I couldn’t remember my old tumblr login, so I haven’t really written or even really read any since like 2015. Life has kind of calmed down and I’ve been rewatching SPN and wanted to give writing another shot. I read some of the stuff I used to write and it’s kind of cringe. I want to see if I can do better!
So, with that in mind, please feel free to send in requests!
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