#Dean Winchester is very well adjusted | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

waynes-multiverse · 6 months

Note

Ok hear me out. I got this idea after the episode of Dean getting his "virginity" back and hooking up with the porn star when he's digging through her dresser and finds the DVD of her ANYWAY

Best friend Dean who's been pining after you for sooo long but doesn't want to fuck it up and lose you. You're hanging out when you ask him to go grab something from your room and he's digging through your drawers looking and accidentally comes across some lingerie and now it's days later and he's so hot and bothered cuz he can't think of anything else (the boy has a serious panty kink lets be honest) and you catch him in your room going through your drawers again and OH

A/N: As I warned y'all, this is a longer DD because, well, the prompt was long, so it's not really my fault. All that backstory took on a life of its own, but I think no one will be mad about it 😅 Again, I had tons of fun with this one! You'll see 🤣

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18/NSWF, a ridiculous heat wave, friends to lovers (Wayne's Version), crack, a panty kink, some sneaky fluff, and some hot lovin' aka smut (oral f & face sitting)

Word Count: 4.5k (whoops)

Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles

Cruel Summer

“You open the beaches on the 4th of July, it’s like ringing the dinner bell for Christ’s sake…”

As Jaws flickered across the screen in the Dean Cave, the green-eyed hunter adjusted himself in his seat. Usually, he had perfect control over himself and his feelings for you.

But on some days – like today – when you sat right next to him on the couch in nothing but a loose t-shirt and some short sweatpants, fanning yourself with an old magazine of Busty Asian Beauties as beads of salty sweat collected on your forehead and trickled down your neck, you made it hard for him.

“God, I’m so hot,” you sighed exhaustively and sunk further into the couch cushions, lifting your shirt from your sticky skin to let some cool air to your boobs as a heat wave ravaged through Kansas.

Painfully hard.

“Dean?” You pouted with your best puppy dog look at your best friend.

“Huh?” Dean was in trance, watching you more than the movie, always on the edge of getting caught one of these days.

“We’re out of Sour Patch Kids. I have more in my nightstand. Can you get them for me please?” you asked sweetly. “I don’t wanna move. I might actually die from heat exhaustion.”

Dean sighed and wordlessly rose from his seat. He knew you always kept an array of salty and sweet midnight snacks in your room in case you got hungry and didn’t want to wander into the kitchen in the middle of the night.

Moreover, he was grateful for the break. God knows he couldn’t stand to be around you any longer, or he would’ve been too tempted to rip your clothes off and really make you sweat.

I’ll show her a damn heat exhaustion, he thought with a scoff.

Hastily grabbing the desired snack, his green eyes then caught something red and lacy sticking out from the first drawer of your dresser. The hunter knew the decent and honest thing would’ve been to just keep moving and leave your godforsaken room.

Turn around, as Bonnie Tyler sang. But for some reason, his bright eyes couldn’t resist, his curiosity overtaking him.

Dean opened the drawer with the intention to push the naughty little clothing item back into its place and out of sight. Get rid of the temptation, so to speak. It sounded like the perfect loophole. He got to touch it and look at it, but for a very heroic and noble reason – not because he was a creepy perv, violating his best friend’s privacy.

On some level, Dean knew he’d never stand a chance with you. He wasn’t good enough. He had so much baggage all his suitcases wouldn’t even fit into the bunker.

A damn touch of a pair of panties you weren’t even wearing was all he would ever get from you.

But then his fingers touched the soft and see-through material, his pads tracing every delicate scarlet thread with precision and care. It was game over for him then and there, cursing himself internally for not resisting harder as his cock twitched joyfully in his jeans.

Dean had laid his eyes on you the second you strolled with swinging hips into that diner in Wichita for your very first case together, a werewolf hunt six years ago. And he had managed to get by without an incident for years since then, even when you moved into the bunker, being rather proud of that achievement. He never wanted to lose you as a friend and didn’t dare to cross a line. Ever.

Recently, though, it became more difficult to keep his distance and not let his thoughts wander. His feelings were magma that slowly had filled a volcano over the years. Each time you did something sexy or sweet or goofy or smart, another drop was added. And now, that damn fire mountain was overdue for an eruption – no thanks to that stupid heat wave.

“Thanks,” you said absentmindedly as the hunter handed you the candy but didn’t settle back down. Instead, he stood behind the sofa and leaned his hands on the backrest.

What you didn’t know, though, was that Dean was sporting quite the boner and wouldn’t dare to come into your line of view. He was surprised he could even walk up straight and not like a caveman early in the evolution.

A hunter gathering panties.

“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he told you with a somber clear of his throat. As the fan carried a breeze of your perfume to his nose, his grip tightened on the couch.

You turned in your seat and looked over your shoulder at him, raising a surprised brow. “Already? But the movie’s not over.”

“Yeah, I’m beat,” he excused and tried his best not to look strained. He forced a tight smile to his lips while his little dude celebrated Spring Break in his jeans. “‘Sides, we’ve seen Jaws like a million times now, Y/N.”

It was a cherished summer tradition between the two of you, watching it every 4th of July.

“I guess so.” You shrugged disappointedly, watching your best friend retreat to his room. Truth was, you loved spending time with Dean and held those little traditions close to your heart.

The Winchesters were your family, the only one you ever had. And while some families wore matching pajamas on Christmas morning, you watched the first two Die Hard movies. You would watch Dean’s favorite horror movies on Halloween. Sixteen Candles and High Fidelity on your birthday, Tombstone and The Great Escape on Dean’s, and some lame-ass foreign language documentaries that you both snored through on Sam’s.

Valentine’s Day was a dreaded non-holiday for all three of you, but for the past four years, someone would leave a box of chocolate in front of your door. The salted caramel ones would always be missing, and it always came with the same Forrest Gump quote:

I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.

You knew the anonymous someone was Dean, and you knew he meant it as a joke. Still, you clung to those little traditions. They might seem silly and stupid to some, but to you, they were your lifeline in a world full of darkness.

So, you felt rather saddened Dean didn’t seem to honor them anymore. It wasn’t just Jaws, either. He’d been withdrawing from you for a while, and you didn’t understand why.

Unbeknownst to you, the green-eyed hunter had kept a lacy souvenir from your room.

Now, Dean had managed to avoid you for four days. Every night since his stealthy excursion, he would lie in his bed with your stolen panties in one hand and his throbbing length in the other, feeling goddamn pathetic for sinking so low.

It was probably so low that even his memory foam mattress would remember it.

With closed eyes, he then imagined how the perky globes of your ass would look like covered in crimson lace. How you would stretch out on his bed on all fours, with your ass high in the air and wiggling in front of him. How his fingers would push the wicked material aside to push into you, taking you deep and hard while you moaned his name.

As he ruined tissue after tissue, the guilt would wash over him as soon as he was done. Call it a post-nut epiphany.

Dean knew it was wrong to think those things. He knew he only made it harder for himself to ever look you into the eyes again. Hell, he barely could do it now, even though a part of him audaciously wondered what other treasures were hiding in that drawer of yours. And more pressingly, what ultimate wealth he would find beneath your clothes. If your lingerie was gold, he’d be a creepy-ass dragon sitting on it.

So, Dean tried to avoid you as best as possible. Mostly because, well…

“God, fuck me,” you groaned exhaustively and opened the refrigerator door, leaning against it as the refreshing cold hit you from behind. On top of that, you held a big bag of frozen peas to your sweaty chest. You already wore the bare minimum – some short denims and a white tank top, your hair up in a messy bun.

“I swear underboob sweat is the worst. Just be glad you don’t have tits,” you complained. “Guys, seriously, can we invest in an AC? This heat wave is killing me! This bunker is like one giant oven…”

You watched as Dean squirmed in his seat as he ate his cereal, looking as uncomfortable as you. Surely, the boys were suffering just as badly during those sweltering temperatures, already forgoing the usual flannels and opting for plain t-shirts instead. How they were still wearing jeans was beyond you. When you first moved in, you protested against Dean’s suggestion of Naked Tuesdays, but these days, you were actually giving it a second thought.

“Well, I’m gonna drive to Kansas City today and see if I can get us an AC. Apparently, they’re all sold out, but I figured maybe with a bit of flirting and some cleavage, I can still get us one,” you explained your plan with a bright smirk and wiggled your eyebrows. “What d’you guys think, huh?”

Dean then abruptly banged his fist on the table, spilling some milk from his bowl on the surface. “For God’s sake, Y/N!”

You frowned in confusion at his unexpected outburst. “What’s up with you? Are you having a heat stroke?”

“Flirting, really?!” the hunter barked, his brow shaped into a deeply furious v.

“What’s wrong with that? Double standard much? You do it all the time to get shit,” you countered and watched his jaw clench in anger.

“I do-... not,” he remarked snappily with a fierce finger drilling into the table, clearly lacking a good argument. Sam cleared his throat in agreement with you, but that only earned him a glare. “And Jesus fucking Christ, would it hurt you to put on some goddamn clothes? You’re not even wearing a bra!”

“Did you not hear my tits rant just now? Of course I’m not! ‘Sides, those boobs are gonna get you an AC, so be a little more grateful to them,” you retorted, annoyed with his attitude. You’d think of all the people in this world, Dean Winchester would understand. (And maybe even appreciate it.) “And how can you even tell, huh?”

“‘Cause science, Y/N! You’re literally cooling your tits! What did you think was gonna happen, huh? Nipples!” he vented outrageously. “This ain’t a strip club!”

“It’s 102 degrees, Dean!” you argued, throwing your arms up. “Look, if I could, I’d even go naked, alright? It’s fucking hot!”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Dean shook his head and stormed out of the kitchen without any further comment.

Confused, you blinked at the younger Winchester. “What’s up with him?”

But Sam only shrugged, shaking his head. “Uhm, I don’t know,” he replied, although he could take an educated guess, suspecting his brother’s feelings for you as the culprit.

“Well, alright, I’m going to Kansas City,” you decided without wasting another thought on the older Winchester’s strange behavior. “Text me if you guys need something. I can pick it up on my way home.”

Dean knew he was in deep trouble as his bow legs bolted down the bunker’s hallways. He tried so hard to keep it together, but when he saw you, half-naked and panting in front of the fridge, he quite literally lost his coolness in this goddamn heat wave.

The green-eyed hunter understood a thing or two about torture, but this was the worst of all. He’d rather have a demon repeatedly peel off his skin in hellfire than endure a day more of this fucking madness.

If the temperatures didn’t drop soon, it would be a cruel summer ahead of him.

As Dean heard the door to the garage close, he knew you’d left for your trip and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. At least he’d get a few hours of peace.

With the best intentions, he strolled to his bedroom, but as he passed your room on his way, he found the door ajar. Whatever good motives he had up until this point, went quickly out the window right then.

His hand twitched at the thought of more riches, worse than any trigger finger and competing with a California earthquake, and well, so did the dick in his jeans. It was an addiction at this point, an obsession he couldn’t resist nor get rid off. The fact that it was forbidden and wrong only made it even more appealing. The apple in the garden of Eden.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t an anonymous support group for this kind of sickness.

As unbearable shame and guilt collected in his stomach like rainwater in the gutter, his eager hands rummaged through your dresser drawer. There was purple lace and black satin, navy G-strings and white Brazilians. It was never ending, and the hunter couldn’t stop as he picked up each item and let his fantasies roam wild.

God, the things he wanted to do to you were as colorful as your rainbow full of underwear.

“Dean?!”

The green-eyed hunter froze in his place, a white lace panty still bunched up in his large palm. The hair in the back of his neck stood up in shock, a part of him refusing to turn around at the sound of your voice. He was caught red-handed, and he knew it.

“What are you doing in my room?” you prompted, suspiciously cocking an eyebrow. It looked fairly obvious what your best friend was up to, but you didn’t want to accuse him right away, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Frankly, it was quite unbelievable.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Dean replied and swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he held up his hands like a criminal during an arrest, the evidence still in his grasp.

“Well, it looks like you’re snooping through my lingerie,” you pointed out bluntly.

Dean nodded, guilt-ridden and reluctant. “I can explain.”

“Good,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m waiting…”

“Right, uhm…”

“Oh, before you scramble for an answer, you should know, though, that I’m aware a pair of red lace panties is missing, and I know the washer didn’t eat them,” you said and raised an expectant brow.

You had a feeling your pervy best friend was behind the mystery of the missing item. Now you knew for sure.

“Man, I always knew you were a kinky son of a bitch, but this is a new level, Dean,” you scolded.

Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor in shame, scratching the nape of his neck. “Look, uhm, there’s no good excuse. I know I fucked up here. I’ll sleep in a motel tonight until I find my own place. You can stay here with Sam, alright? I’ll move out and won’t bother you anymore.”

As he tried to brush past you, you blocked his exit and grabbed his arm. “So, you’re gonna leave? Just like that?”

“What other choice do I have? I don’t wanna make you more uncomfortable,” he stated without glancing at you once. He couldn’t bring himself to look into your eyes and see the disappointment and disgust there. “I know what I did was wrong.”

“Oh, so wrong,” you agreed. “I just figured you wouldn’t run away like a coward and take your punishment like a man, you know? Aren’t you at all curious what I’m wearing right now?”

That was when Dean’s juniper eyes slowly wandered to you and caught your gaze for the first time. You smirked as his breathing became heavy and his look darkened and filled with lust. It seemed like he wanted to rip your clothes off with his goddamn bare teeth like a wild animal.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or if I’m dreaming,” he admitted, his deep voice part harsh swallow and part nervous chuckle.

“Neither,” you said, biting your bottom lip.

Carefully, you leaned closer, your hands reaching up to cup his scruffy cheeks. Noses nuzzled as your lips ghosted against his with a daring grin. You wouldn’t go further; it was up to Dean to make that final decision.

And then, as no more than a mere second ticked by on the clock, the hunter crashed his lips against yours in a kiss so scorching it made the current heat wave look like an ice age. If you thought you were hot before, now it felt like you were burning in a wildfire.

Dean roughly pushed you against the door, his kiss all teeth and tongue in an uncontrollable frenzy. His dick was hard and thick, straining against his jeans and rubbing along your thigh. Pantingly, you gasped for air and grabbed his hand, guiding it down your body and into your shorts.

“Feel that?” you asked mischievously as his fingers dug through your soaked folds and collected the arousal he caused. A wanton growl left his plush lips. “All for you, baby. You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?”

“Shit, yeah, so bad…” Dean rasped huskily against your throat as he worshipped his path down your body, forcing your shirt up till his wet tongue rolled over your pert and still cold nipple.

“Gonna make it up to me, huh? Show me how sorry you are?” you prompted, your fingers raking through his sandy blond and soft hair, eliciting a groan from him every time you tugged a little harder.

Teeth pinched your skin, tongue cherished your taste, and lips left your throat bruised. It was equal parts hot, sweaty, messy, naughty, dirty, and sticky as your bodies rutted against one another, looking for dire release.

With swollen and plumper than before lips, he came back up for air and found your eyes. He kissed you with heated passion once more as if he couldn’t resist to touch you over and over again. He had to restrain himself to be able to speak.

“So, uhm, you sure about this?” Dean asked between labored breaths with an insecure gleam in his green eyes. “‘Cause if we go further, I don’t think I can stop. And I don’t mean just this time but ever… If you want this to be a one time thing, you gotta tell me, sweetheart, so I can mentally prepare myself. I mean, I’ll take what I can get, you know? Not that I care either way… Well, that’s not true. I do care. A lot… But, you know, you’re you, and I’m me, so I’m not delusional. I know there’s no way you would–”

You interrupted his babbling with a kiss, causing the hunter to lose his words. You looked deeply into his eyes and offered him a small smile of comfort.

“Dean, listen to me, okay? ‘Cause this is very important,” you urged, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.

He nodded, gulping anxiously. “O-Okay.”

“You’re incredible,” you said and watched him inhale sharply at your words, blinking at you in disbelief. “Absolutely fucking bonkers incredible. You’re right – you’re you. And thank God you are, because you’re the best, funniest, smartest, kindest, and goddamn hottest man I’ve ever met. I’m tired of you not seeing that. As my boyfriend, I really need to you to see that, alright?”

As Dean pensively took in your words, his brow began to furrow. “Boyfriend?”

The corners of your mouth rose to a beam. “Yeah, boyfriend,” you confirmed. “That’s what you want, right? ‘Cause I’d really like that, too.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah… That’s what I want.” Dean nodded eagerly before another swallow followed. “I mean, among other things…”

You bit your lip, smirking. “What other things?”

“Well, uhm…”

Dean didn’t finish his sentence, his lips impatiently claiming yours instead. He pressed you hungrily back against the door, massive hands sliding down your sides till they hooked into the hem of your denim shorts and ripped them down to your ankles, leaving you only covered in teal lace. He growled shamelessly at the sight, his thick digits eagerly diving inside.

“Wanna be inside you,” he groaned into your ear, thumbing furiously at your clit. “Every hour of every day…”

“We can do that,” you agreed with a giggle, your arms locking around his neck, fingers carding through his hair in the back.

“Wanna feel your mouth around my–” The last word was muffled as he ravaged your neck, but you understood where he was going with this.

“You can do that,” you said with a smile.

“And fuck, I want you to ride my face,” he declared. That demand left you speechless, making even Dean stop for a minute and look at you. “Too far?”

You shook your head and smirked. “I can do that.”

Before Dean’s mind could fathom your words, you shoved him onto the bed, his back hitting the mattress. When you stood before him, slotted between his muscular legs, his gaze trailed up and down your body, memorizing every beautiful curve. As your fingers curled into the waistband of your panties, however, the hunter stopped you.

“Leave ‘em on, sweetheart. Don’t you dare take those off,” he told you, his hands rapaciously reaching out to you.

You played with the hem of your top and smirked, your tongue licking over your lips. “What about this? On or off?”

“Off,” he shot back faster than a bullet leaving a barrel.

“You first,” you demanded and grinned. “Remember, this is still your punishment.”

“God, I love getting punished,” Dean mumbled and slipped out of his shirt. He then swiftly shimmied out of his jeans, discarding each item carelessly around the room.

He then took a deep breath as he tugged the waistband of his boxers, his erection already fighting its way out. “Well, here goes nothing,” the hunter said and pulled his underwear down.

You tilted your head to see his hard cock from a better angle as it sprang against his stomach. Your lips parted in anticipation, wondering what he’d taste like on your tongue and how deep you’d be able to take him. You guessed there’d be a struggle ahead, considering how huge and wide he was.

“Oh, I would not call that monster nothing,” you commented with a scoff, your pussy throbbing with need. “Explains all that BDE.”

Dean blushed. It was cute to watch. “Thank you.”

Giggling, you removed your shirt and tossed it at his face, blinding him for a second. You used that momentum to slide onto the bed and straddle his torso. As his eyes finally found you again, he almost choked on his spit when he gazed up at your perfect tits above him. A primal grunt escaped his throat.

With a mesmerized sparkle in his eyes, his hands trailed up your body and cupped your breasts, massaging them roughly as your panties grew damper by the minute. He then pulled you down to his lips and kissed you breathless before he left them with a boyish smirk on his freckled face.

“Hop on, sweetheart.”

And as if his words hadn’t been enough motivation, his hands wandered to palm your ass and hauled you closer to his mouth. He was an impatient one – or maybe he’d waited years for this and was finally tired of it.

Your knees sunk into the mattress on either side of his stubborn head. His fingers dented your flesh as they grabbed onto your thighs. Yours held onto the headboard for support. You tried not to look down, because then you’d see his big lopsided and full of excitement grin.

The same one he had when you found a diner in Kentucky that advertised the biggest burger in America (it wasn’t). The same one he had when he thought he had run into a member of Metallica at a gas station outside of Phoenix (he didn’t). The same one he had when you and Sam gifted him his own beer brewing station for his last birthday (which tasted horrible, but neither you nor Sam had the heart to tell him).

And now, he had that same grin when he was about to be with you.

As your pussy dripped above him, Dean couldn’t hold back his lewd groans any longer. You didn’t even have to lower yourself; he just dragged you down onto his face all to eagerly. His fingers swiped your panties to the side, and before you could even adjust your grip on the bedpost, his tongue darted into your soaked channel as deeply as he could and sucked you goddamn dry.

With several whimpers, you clenched around his wet muscle. If you were water in the desert, he was parched and drinking to survive.

His nose was buried in your folds, rubbing deliciously against your clit as he lapped your pussy in a vicious attack that left you squirming and moaning to a pornographic degree above him. Because Dean was just that – pure porn.

Instinctively and irresistibly, you ground your cunt against him, the vibrations of his keen groans against your sensitive flesh rocking you to the edge of your climax. He ate you out and devoured you like that damn gigantic burger in Kentucky. And as you dared to blink down and watch him in action, he had the audacity to devilishly smirk up at you with the crinkles around his green eyes alone, gauging your every reaction to his touches as if you were a goddamn movie on a silver screen.

You trembled and quivered and screamed as your orgasm electrified every molecule in your body. You white-knuckled the wood in your grip, your body only held up by Dean’s strong arms because God knows your weak legs were useless now.

As wave after wave washed over you, Dean drank every drop of yours, his tongue never getting enough of your taste. The sounds that filled the room were carnal and obscene.

“Fuck, Dean,” you sighed blissfully and lifted off his face and captured his swollen and red lips in a grateful kiss, your palms finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Your drenched and sensitive cunt settled on his thighs as an egregiously large erection poked your belly and tempted you further.

Dean smirked up at you, all satisfied and confident with his achievement. “I think we have a slight problem, though.”

Your brow knitted, your heart tightening with anxiety. Had you been as disappointing as the burger, beer, and that fake Metallica band member?

But Dean only grinned teasingly at your confused face. “There’s no way I learned my lesson here.”

You snorted and sought out his lips, the kiss giving you a taste of yourself. “We’ll work on that. I might have to nickname you Jaws after this,” you joked.

“Can’t wait for you to explain that one to Sammy.” Dean snorted, chuckling. “Now, how about you hop on again, but this time a little further south, huh?” he proposed with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a suggestive twitch of his cock for emphasis.

You giggled with a few nods. “I can do that.”

Was it worth the words? 😝

For all you newcomers and as a general reminder, Dirty Drabbles are always open. I still have quite a few left, but you're welcome to send more in, and we'll add it to the collection at some point 😎🔥

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archiveofvirtue · 20 days

Text

officer — dean winchester

content: dean winchester x female!oc, heavy smut, oral (male receiving), face riding, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, slight breeding, explicit language

summary: you have been dealing with a series of bizarre murders, stuck as the killer stays unknown to you. When suddenly two FBI Agents enter the New Orleans Police Department where you are leading the case. Dean is very much intrigued by you, due to you being both sharp and attractive. You, however, quickly discover that the brothers aren't who they claim to be. Instead of reporting them, you decide to confront Dean privately..

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Dean Winchester adjusted his FBI badge, his lips curling into a smirk as he and Sam walked into the bustling precinct of the New Orleans Police Department. The case they were working on—a string of bizarre murders linked to a wicked witch—had brought them to the city, and they needed all the help they could get. Dean had done his homework, and he knew exactly who they needed to talk to.

"Officer Y/N Carter," he said under his breath, glancing at his brother. "She's the lead on this case. And from what I've heard, she's sharp as a tack."

Sam raised an eyebrow, catching the glint in Dean's eye. "You mean you've heard she's hot."

Dean grinned. "Can't a guy appreciate a woman's professional skills?"

Sam rolled his eyes but didn't press further as they approached the front desk. A young officer glanced up at them, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of the two well-dressed men.

"Agents...?" she prompted, her gaze flicking to their badges.

"Sir Abney," Dean said smoothly, flashing his most charming smile. "And this is Agent Moore. We're with the FBI, here to see Officer Carter about an ongoing investigation."

The officer nodded and picked up the phone. Within moments, you stepped into the room, and Dean had to suppress a whistle. You were stunning—tall, with sharp blue eyes that seemed to take in everything at once. Your dark hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and you moved with the kind of confidence that Dean couldn't help but admire..

He didn't try to hide his smug smile. Typical. You had dealt with enough of these guys to know the look-half admiration, half underestimation.

"Agents," you greeted them, voice cool and professional. "I hear you're looking into the same case I am."

"That's right," He said, offering his hand. "Agent Abney. This is my partner, Agent Moore."

You shook his hand, grip firm, and Dean couldn't help but notice the slight twitch at the corner of your mouth, as if you were suppressing a smile. "Officer Y/N Carter. I've been working on this case for weeks. It's been... unusual, to say the least."

"That's why we're here," Sam chimed in, his tone more serious. "We've been tracking similar incidents across the state. We think your case might be connected."

You nodded, your expression thoughtful as you led them to your desk. "Let's compare notes, then."

As the three of you discussed the details of the case, Dean found himself increasingly drawn to you. You were smart, no doubt about that, and you didn't shy away from speaking your mind. But there was something else, too—a spark between you and Dean that you couldn't ignore. You caught his eyes on you several times during your conversation, and each time, you looked back at him with a mixture of curiosity and something else... something that made his pulse quicken. He had that charm that could probably get him out of most situations, but you weren't so easily swayed.

After the three of you had gone through all the information, you leaned back in your chair, studying them with those sharp eyes of yours. "Well, it looks like we're dealing with the same thing—a unknown woman with a serious grudge and a knack for creative murder."

"Seems that way," Dean agreed, leaning forward slightly, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "You've been a big help, Officer Carter. I gotta say, it's not every day we come across someone as competent as you in law enforcement."

You raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on your lips. "Is that your way of complimenting me, Agent Abney?"

Dean grinned, leaning back in his chair. "Just stating the facts, ma'am."

You chuckled softly, but there was an edge of suspicion in your eyes that Dean didn't miss. "Well, I'm happy to help. But don't think I'm not keeping an eye on you two. I've been doing this job long enough to know when something's off."

"Nothing to worry about, Officer," Dean said smoothly. "We're just here to catch this serial killer."

"Uh-huh," you said, not entirely convinced. But before either of them could say more, your phone buzzed on the desk.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," you said, picking it up and turning slightly away from them. The brothers took the opportunity to exchange a glance—Sam's pointed and Dean's slightly smug. But when you hung up, your expression was unreadable.

"I think we're done here," you said, standing. "I'll reach out if I find anything else. And you two—keep me in the loop."

"Will do," Sam said, and Dean gave you a nod before they headed out of the station.

As they left, Dean couldn't shake the feeling that you were more than just a by-the-books cop. And judging by the look you had given him, you weren't quite done with them, either. Something told you that these two had a lot more going on than they let on.

Back at your desk, you watched the two 'FBI agents' walk out, your mind already working on unraveling the mystery that was slumbering over them. There was something about him that didn't add up—besides the fact that he was ridiculously charming. When you'd shaken his hand, there had been a spark, a feeling that you couldn't quite put your finger on. And then there was that name—Abney. You were almost certain you had heard it before, but not in any official capacity.

As soon as they were out of sight, you turned to your computer, pulling up the database. You typed in 'Abney' and 'Moore,' then hit enter. A few seconds later, the screen flashed with the results—nothing. No agents by those names in the FBI database. But then, almost as quickly, a few more results popped up—articles, reports, sightings—all linked to two brothers who had a reputation for impersonating law enforcement.

Winchester. Dean and Sam Winchester.

A slow smile spread across your face. Well, well, well. You had them now. But instead of going straight to your superiors, you decided to play this one a little differently. If Dean wanted to flirt, you'd flirt back—but on your terms.

You quickly reached down into your pocket, pulling out the sleek little paper card that Agent Abney, better known as Dean Winchester, had given you earlier, then picked up your phone. It was time to see just how far Dean was willing to go.

Later that evening, Dean's phone buzzed as he and Sam were going over their next move. He picked it up, frowning when he saw the message. It was from an unknown number, but the address and the time were clear.

"Meet me at this address after dark. We need to talk. – Y/N."

Sam glanced over. "Something up?"

Dean grinned. "Looks like Officer Carter wants a little one-on-one time."

Sam's expression turned wary. "Dean, we should be focusing on the witch, not..."

"Not what? Pursuing all possible leads?" Dean interrupted with a smirk. "Relax, Sammy. I'll handle this."

Sam sighed but didn't argue. "Just be careful."

Dean winked. "Aren't I always?"

Your apartment was on the edge of the city, in a quiet, upscale neighborhood. Dean arrived right on time, his nerves buzzing with a mix of anticipation and curiosity. As he walked up to the door, he wondered what exactly you wanted to talk about—but something told him it wasn't just about the case.

He knocked, and after a few seconds, the door swung open. You stood there, dressed casually in jeans and a fitted black shirt, your hair loose around your shoulders. The look you gave him was one of both suspicion and something else—something that made Dean's heart beat a little faster and that kept you from not calling him out just yet.

"Officer Carter," he said with a grin, leaning against the doorframe. "What can I do for you?"

You raised an eyebrow, stepping aside to let him in. "You can start by dropping the act, 'Agent Abney.'"

Dean's grin faltered slightly as he stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind him. "I'm not sure what you mean."

You crossed your arms, your expression unimpressed. "I mean, I did a little digging after you left the station. Turns out, you're not FBI. In fact, you're not even a cop."

Dean's stomach dropped. He was usually better at covering his tracks, but you had seen right through him. "Look, I can explain—"

You held up a hand, cutting him off. "I'm sure you can. But I'm not interested in your excuses. What I'm interested in is why you're really here."

Dean's mind raced, searching for a way to salvage the situation. But before he could come up with anything, you stepped closer, eyes locked on his. "And what I'm really interested in, Dean Winchester, is what you're willing to do to keep this little secret between us."

The way you said his name sent a shiver down his spine. There was no anger in your voice, no threat—just a challenge to see if he would accept. And Dean never could resist a challenge.

"What do you have in mind?" he asked, his voice low as he stepped closer, closing the distance between you two.

Your smile was slow, sultry, as you looked up at him. "I think you know, Dean. After all, you've been flirting with me since you walked into that station. So why don't we see if you can back it up?"

Dean's breath hitched. He wasn't often caught off guard, but you had managed it. You were sharp, confident, and undeniably sexy. And the offer you were making? Well, it was one he couldn't refuse.

He reached out, his hand sliding to the small of your back as he pulled you closer, his touch sending electric shocks to your skin. "You sure about this?"

You didn't pull away. Instead, you tilted your head slightly, lips curling into a sly smile as your hands rested on his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath his shirt. "I'm sure, Dean. But this isn't just about keeping your little secret-this is about you proving that all that talk isn't just for show."

You could feel his pulse quickening, your words sparking a fire in him that he hadn't felt in a long time.

There was something about you-something in the way you looked at him, the way you challenged him-that made him want to prove himself. And it wasn't just about keeping you quiet anymore; it was about something far more primal.

"Trust me, sweetheart," Dean murmured, his voice husky as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "I never make promises I can't keep."

A shiver ran down your spine, your breath catching in your throat as his words washed over you. You hadn't expected to be so affected by him-hadn't expected the way his touch would make your knees go weak.

But you weren't about to let him know just how much power he had over you, not yet.

This was still a game, and you weren't going to lose.

"Then show me," you whispered back, voice full of daring as you leaned into him, lips brushing against the stubble on his jaw. "Show me what you've got, Winchester."

Dean didn't need any more encouragement.

In one swift motion, he closed the remaining distance between you two, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both fierce and possessive.

You responded immediately, hands sliding up to tangle in his hair as you pulled him closer, matching his intensity with your own.

The kiss deepened, becoming a battle for dominance as your tongues clashed and your breaths mingled. Dean's hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve, every line, while your nails dug into his shoulders, urging him on, daring him to take it further.

He backed you up against the wall, the cool plaster pressing against your back as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

Your head fell back, eyes fluttering closed as you surrendered to the sensations he was awakening in you. It was intoxicating, the way he made you feel, the way he took control.

But you weren't about to let him have it all his way.

With a sudden burst of strength, you pushed him back, flipping your positions so that he was the one against the wall. He looked momentarily surprised, but then his lips curled into a wicked grin, his eyes darkening with desire.

"Feisty," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration and a hint of challenge. "I like that."

"Good," you shot back, voice breathless but steady as you trailed your hands down his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

You kissed him again, hard and demanding, pouring everything you had into it. Dean responded with equal fervor, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer, pressing your bodies together. The world outside melted away, leaving only the two of you, locked in a battle of wills and desire.

You both stumbled towards the couch, lips never parting, your hands never stopping their exploration. Dean's shirt was the first to go, quickly followed by yours, leaving you both bare to the waist, skin burning with the heat of your desire.

You pushed him down onto the couch, straddling his lap as you looked down at him, eyes blazing with a mix of lust and determination. "You're not getting off easy, Dean. If I'm keeping your secret, I want something in return."

Dean's hands gripped your thighs, his eyes locked on yours, filled with a hunger that matched your own. "Whatever you want, sweetheart. Just say the word."

You leaned down, lips brushing against his as you whispered, "I want all of you, Dean. I want you to make me forget everything except this moment."

And with that, any semblance of restraint you two had left crumbled. Dean's hands moved to unfasten your jeans, his fingers working with practiced ease as he stripped away the barriers between you. Your hands were just as eager, tugging at his belt, then his pants, until you were both bare and aching for each other.

Your eyes admired the men underneath you, his muscular chest heavily raising up and down as he observed you. You were quick to press a few kisses to his stomach before shifting your naked body down so that your lips were on the same level as his hard length.

Desire was burning in your eyes as you peeked up at Dean who was already tensing up, knowing what was bound to happen.

Without another second passing your plump lips wrapped around his tip, cheeks hallowing as you began sucking, earning a deep growl from him.

Slurping sounds began to fill the four walls of your living room as you took him down your throat, the noises that left Dean's lips satisfying you.

"What a cockslut you are," Dean grunted. His dirty words making your core tingle, pressing your thighs together as you started to suck him off at your own pace now, getting a slight taste of his precum in the process.

As he started to buckle his hips up just second later and shove his cock further down your throat you knew that he wasn't going to last any longer.

Dean reached down to take your hair in his grip, tugging on it as he fastened his movements. You were drooling and spitting already when Dean finally released himself into your mouth, feeling the warmth of his cum on your tongue.

You teasingly licked the corner of your lips clean as you stared up at him, and you could tell by the smug look on his face that he wasn't done yet.

Dean harshly pulled your fragile body up to him, his calloused hands pulling at your hips, shifting your frame towards his face with ease. He needed to devour you, and he needed you now.

"Can't wait to taste you, sweetheart." He muttered from inbetween your thighs, his warm breath falling against you.

The softness of your skin on top of him, his rough hands gripping tightly on your hips and rubbing your ass cheeks create a familiar sensation you were aching for all along. Every touch of him felt like being electrocuted.

Moans began to escape your lips as he guided you to move against him, your core rutting into his face, tongue now lapping at your entrance as his nose brushed against your sensitive nub.

Dean definitely took his time with you, devouring your wetness in smooth motions, his warm tongue licking through you, again and again.

You felt the knot in your lower belly growing as Dean moved up to suck at your clit, while two of his fingers prodded at your entrance before slipping in with ease. You felt so full with his fingers inside you. You arched your back at the intense pleasure Dean was giving you, your sweet whimpers filling the room.

Dean immediately knew that you were on the verge of releasing, until it happened right in front of his eyes. Your legs trembled, hands gripping onto strands of his hair, while his rough grip on your hips forced you to still move against him while you rode out your high.

He let his tongue slip through your folds one last time before pulling back, his lips covered by your wetness, making them glisten in the dimly lit room.

"You're addicting." Dean growled, his green eyes staring up at you while you were still catching your breath.

It was just when you were about to move off of him that Dean grabbed your weak-kneed body and threw it back down, back pressed against the soft fabric of the couch. He was still aching for more.

He crawled over you, grabbing your hips and rubbing his tip between your folds before pushing all of him inside, earning something between a gasp and a moan that sounded too good in his ears falling from your lips.

"You are taking me so fucking good," Dean began praising and kissing you, his breathy voice making you clench around his cock.

His hips met yours with every thrust as he found the perfect pace to fuck you right through it. The friction between you electric.

You felt his hands grabbing your breasts as they bounced with each thrust, playing gently with your nipples, adding extra pleasure to your body. It was raw, it was intense, and exactly what you both had wanted.

"Yeah, just like that..." Dean muttered in between his own moans, his fingers finding their way to your clit, moving them in circles, and forcing another orgasms out of you.

As your walls clenched around him you could tell by the way his movements got sloppier that he wasn't too far from releasing himself again. You pulled him down, lips hungrily devouring eachother as you moaned into his mouth, "you fill me up so well."

Dean pounded into you a few more times before he spilled inside you, little droplets of sweat had built up on his forehead as you brushed his hair back with your hands, his hips still moving painfully slow, some of his seeds spilling out of you.

He then collapsed right next to you, his body tightly pressed against yours while your heart was still racing from the intensity of what you two had just shared. Dean's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, his own breath coming in ragged gasps.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, content to just hold each other, to let the silence stretch between you two.

Finally, you pulled back slightly, looking at him with a satisfied smile. "Well, Dean, I think you've more than earned your secret."

Dean chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver through you. "Glad to hear it. But something tells me this isn't the last time you're gonna hold something over me."

You grinned, leaning in to brush your lips against his. "Maybe not. But you know what? I'm okay with that."

Dean's smile softened as he looked at you, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair out of your face.

"You're something else, Y/N Carter."

"So are you, Dean Winchester," you whispered back, heart swelling with something more than just the heat of the moment. "So are you."

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #supernatural #spnfandom #oneshot #writers on tumblr #smut #dean winchester smut #supernatural fanfiction #dean x reader

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certaimromance · 3 months

Text

࣪ ִֶָ☾. Love or seal?

Dean Winchester x Fem!reader

Summary: An avenging spirit is killing married couples, so the Winchesters think it's a good idea to use you to pretend to be one and take down the ghost. But the act becomes all too real before you know it.

Words: 1,8k.

TW: mentions of murder, death, violence (normal warnings in the series). so much teasing. a little of angst with happy ending. dean from the early seasons but soft and chaotic (a bit simp). sam being cupid and forgotten lol. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I've always been a Dean girl and I'm so excited about this. I love the concept of "Frenemies to Lovers" with its more playful and cutie version from the earlier seasons, I hope I described it well.

This is my second time writing here, i'm still new.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

You took another look in the mirror and walked a few laps around the dingy motel room, trying to swallow the act. It seemed ironic to wear such a fancy dress and high heels in a place like this, but it was all so you could solve the case and prevent more deaths. After all, it was your job to catch the ghosts and put them to rest.

It had been a long time since you'd been out on a date or worn anything other than your usual jeans and leather jacket. Buying yourself a cute dress and wedding rings with one of your fake cards had been entertaining, the closest thing to a normal life you'd had in years.

“Come in, I need help with the zipper on my dress.” You said after hearing a couple of knocks on your door.

You were still standing in front of the bathroom mirror, waiting for Sam to show up to help you so the two of you could leave soon for the restaurant where you both had reserved a table. The strange thing was that the cold hands you felt running down your back and zipping you up were not his, but those of his older brother.

“What are you doing here? Where is Sam?” You turned around to look at Dean once your dress was closed. It was then that you noticed he was wearing a suit and the ring.

“In the room.” He replied, moving closer to you so he could look at himself in the mirror and adjusting his tie with difficulty, he was not used to wearing one at all and felt suffocated.

“Why are you dressed like that?” You asked him after looking him over from head to toe and inevitably biting your lower lip. He looked good, all dressed up and dapper, you could even smell the scent of cologne wafting off him.

“I'll be your husband for tonight.” Dean smiled at you.

You frowned when you heard that the younger Winchester would no longer be your fake husband, because that was not what you had all agreed upon. Sam had always been more husband material, and you trusted him enough to have some physical contact if necessary. On the other hand, you saw Dean as someone who was far from the prototypical perfect partner, and you could barely talk to him without arguing about your differences, never having touched him except for sparring practice or taking away the gun he kept stealing from you. You couldn't deny that both brothers were attractive, but they were almost equally far from meaning anything romantic to you.

“We flipped a coin and I got the job.” He added to the explanation, noticing the confusion on your face.

Finally you nodded, realizing that once again they had not been able to reach an agreement and had had to put luck in the middle for the choice of roles. You didn't mind going with Dean, you had already been on several hunts with him and trusted his skills, but having to impersonate his wife was weird.

“Can you...?” He tried to ask you, pointing at his tie and all the trouble it caused him.

You let out a small laugh at seeing him so confused over a simple tie and went over to him to take it off. You had to tie it all over again because of how badly he had done it before.

“This looks very wife.” He commented as he saw the delicacy with which you were trying to fix his mess.

“I hope the spirit feels the same and is looking forward to slaughtering us.” You replied, taking a step away from him as you finished.

You two said a quick goodbye to Sam and then hopped into the Impala, which took you to a shiny restaurant near the road where the ghost appeared.

“Don't embarrass me, please.” You said to him as soon as you both sat down at the table and placed your order.

“How could I, darling?” He smiled innocently at you and took your hand on the table, caressing the ring on your finger.

You didn't say anything, just smiled back and kept your thoughts to yourself. You couldn't believe he actually called you that, sounding almost like a husband, even though you knew it was because of the acting, it gave you a funny feeling in your stomach. The most you'd gotten from Dean Winchester in all the years you'd known him was a "good job" and a strange smile, followed by a lot of questions about your careless decisions. You alone were far enough away from marriage, let alone someone like him.

“You look very handsome tonight.” You told him as you saw he was drinking water, causing him to almost spit it out in surprise.

Usually you never complimented him, barely looked him in the eye, talked about anything other than hunting, or even laughed at his jokes. It seemed that his presence didn't matter much to you because your interests were more aligned with Sam's and you got along better with him. That bothered Dean a lot, he hated being so invisible in your eyes.

Now, however, you didn't take your eyes off him and even gave him compliments that left him speechless to continue the performance.

“At least the food is good.” You said absentmindedly as the waiter brought the plates.

“And the company?”

You looked into his eyes, trying to understand if he was playing with you or if he was really hurt by your lack of emotion. The strange thing was that you didn't know if it was one or the other, his greenish gaze was a mystery.

“The best company, of course.” You gave him a smile and picked up your glass of wine to make a small toast.

“How affectionate you are now.”

“Yes, I feel almost as if today is the last day of my life.” You said with irony.

Dinner went off without a hitch in a quiet and strangely pleasant atmosphere. You couldn't help but be surprised by Dean's friendliness, it was the first time you had a civilized conversation with him. The first time he held your hand and you noticed how green his eyes were.

Suddenly, everything he said, silly or not, made you smile. The only rational thing to do was to attribute it to the glass of wine he had decided to drink. In general, you didn't allow yourself to drink alcohol, let alone in the middle of a hunt. But now, for some reason, you thought it would help your nerves and relax you a bit.

“Where did you leave the car?” You asked once they left the site and the time to travel the road of death was approaching.

“In the corner over there...I hope.” He answered without really being sure. For him, it had all happened so fast when you two arrived.

“My feet hurt. Don't play with me now.” You said, hating the high heels you were wearing.

At that moment, the hunter stopped and motioned for you to sit on the bench by the exit. Unsure, you obeyed and frowned as he knelt down to gently remove your shoes.

“Happy now?” He asked he asked, holding your heels in his hands.

“I can't walk barefoot.” You claimed, putting on a fake sad face and lowering your gaze to his arms.

Dean shook his head instantly.

“No, don't even think that I'll carry you.” He warned confidently, folding his arms.

A few minutes later, he was silently leading you to the car, snorting at every opportunity to give in so easily to your wishes.

“This looks very husband.” You pointed out with a smile and a teasing tone.

“I would offer you to the spirit right now.” He replied, looking at you with narrowed eyes.

“How lovely you are, my dear.”

The two finally got into the car and headed for the exit. Dean had received a message from his brother telling him that he had found the name of the ghost woman and her grave with her husband, who was the cause of all his resentment against happily married couples, and to top it off, he was buried on top of her.

“Sam is going to burn the grave and everything will be fine.” He said trying to comfort you as he saw the concern on your face. “Maybe the woman doesn't want to kill anyone today.”

“You have too much faith in a murderous spirit.” You sighed and tried to remove the ring from your finger, but it stuck. “And you should take the ring off.”

“Are we getting divorced so soon?” He replied in a joking tone, with his eyes on the road.

You looked at him seriously, this was no time for jokes because everything was going wrong. If Sam didn't dig up those bones soon, they were probably going to kill you both and the plan was going to fail completely. It was supposed to be easy and you were terrified that it wasn't anymore.

“Come on, don't be like that. You were laughing so hard with me.” He smiled at you.

Before you could respond, a pale woman in a blood-stained wedding dress appeared in the back seat. You could barely say Dean's name when the ghost's hand came around your neck and began to choke you. After a few moments, you couldn't even breathe and everything became a blur.

You didn't want to die, at least not at that moment. Not without having lived a life as good as the night before everything went to hell. You still had too many things to do to go like that, let alone in front of him, you couldn't let that happen.

“Don't move.” The hunter said to you before drawing his gun and disputing you to the back seat.

The ghost disappeared for a few seconds and then reappeared just ahead of the road. A braking maneuver as the woman was beginning to burn in front of the two of you almost made you jump out of your seat.

Sam had succeeded.

“Are you okay?” Dean asks, looking at you with concern.

“Yeah.” You said, still trying to catch your breath and process everything that had happened.

“And my thanks for saving you and not letting death part us?”

At any other time, you would have simply made a sarcastic comment and emphasized that it was all thanks to her brother. However, the recent experience had changed something in you and made you kiss his cheek.

Before you could completely pull your face away from his, he put his hand on your cheek and pulled you close. You felt his lips move over yours and responded without hesitation. A big part of you had been thinking about this moment all night and was more than happy it was happening. It was like the perfect ending to a fake marriage date, minus the killer ghost part, and it made you smile in the middle of it.

“You didn't flip any coin, did you?” You asked as you broke away from the kiss for a second.

“No, I didn't.” He admitted, leaving a kiss on your head and making you smile even more.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester #the winchester brothers

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inez-winchester-cameron · 1 year

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Sharing is Caring (18+)

↠Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!reader, Dean Winchester x fem!reader

↠Summary: After overhearing his brother having sex with you, Sam finds himself horny and unable to quench his thirst with just his fist (SMUT)

↠Cw: threesome, mentions of collaring, dom!sam and dean, mentions of 'training', oral, riding, cheek slapping, masturbation, shower sex, dubcon

↠Notes: this made me very horny while writing so i hope yall enjoy

Sam found himself awkwardly adjusting his boner in the recliner of the motel you, him and Dean were staying in. You and Dean seemed to have forgotten just how thin motel walls were. Just ten minutes before that, you and Dean had announced you were going to shower quickly before heading out to gather details on the hunt.

It was naive of Sam to think that you two were just going to shower, he now realized. Because when did Dean ever just do wholesome things with you? Sam felt bad, sitting there, listening to the noises you and Dean let out. The recliner was close to the bathroom door, he could’ve gotten up and moved, maybe even stepped outside for a breather.

But he didn’t. He sat there listening. Like a creep. But what was the harm, it wasn’t like you and Dean knew he could hear you, right?

Dean had you pinned, chest against the shower wall, as he pounded into you from behind. He growled dirty words directly into your ear. You had assumed the shower water noise would drown out your noises, but you underestimated just how loud Dean made you. Most of Dean’s dirty talk was similar, not to call it boring, but he normally used a lot of the same phrases and ideas. So, when a new thought came into his brain, he found himself immediately spitting it out.

“You think Sam can hear us, huh, baby? Bet he can. Bet he’s out there touching his cock to your pretty moans.”

Dean didn’t mean it seriously, it was bedroom talk. But then he felt the way you clenched down around him at the words. A smirk formed on his lips, “You like that, baby? Like the thought of him wanting you as much as I do?” Against all morals you had, you found yourself nodding. Dean chuckled lowly into your ear, “That’s so cute, baby. Maybe next time we’ll invite him.” As soon as those words came out of his lips, your cunt spasmed around his cock. There wasn’t even a moment to warn Dean, you came immediately at the thought of that. Embarrassed, you stayed quiet as Dean finished up.

After a well needed wash up in the shower, you and Dean stepped out, wrapping towels around yourselves. Sam’s eyes widened, as he realized you two had finished. He quickly sat some books on his lap, hiding his massive boner. It’s fine, he would just step into the shower after you and Dean came out. He could rub one out and get right back on the case.

Soon, you and Dean exited the bathroom, both dressed. You were towel drying your hair as you sat on the bed. Sam quietly excused himself into the bathroom and locked the door. Neither of you had noticed his erection, right? It was a bit embarrassing for Sam, but he did have a big cock, and whenever he got hard, it was more than noticeable.

Sam restarted the shower water and began stripping, as he did this, he noticed something. In the corner of the bathroom sat a pile of clothes. He bit his lip at the garment sitting on top. A pair of black lace panties. Sam’s brain argued with himself over morals, but eventually he snatched the panties, stuffing them into his jean pocket after he slipped them off. Sam stepped into the shower, sighing in relief that he hadn’t been caught with an erection a few moments earlier. Sam shut his eyes and started stroking his cock, his head filled with thoughts of you. Especially the pretty moans you were letting out while Dean fucked you. He wondered what position Dean had you in earlier. Were you up against the wall? Bent over the tub? Was Dean sitting while you bounced on his cock? Sam’s mind ran with endless possibilities. Eventually he spilled all over his hand, in an embarrassingly quick amount of time.

While Sam was in the bathroom, you and Dean were waiting outside. There was a bit of an awkward silence after what Dean had whispered to you in the shower. It wasn’t super tense, no one was upset, no one was mad, it was just a little awkward.

You cleared your throat and spoke first, “What was that?”

“What was what?” Dean asked, faking looking over the research Sam had gathered.

“In the shower,” you stated, “That dirty talk.”

“I always dirty talk you like that, baby,” Dean replied, avoiding the topic.

“No, the dirty talk about Sam,” you got specific so he couldn’t avoid it any longer.

Dean shrugged, “Just came to mind..why? Did you not like it?”

“No, I did, just- it was just different, was wondering what brought it on.”

Before Dean could answer, Sam stepped back out, now dressed in his FBI suit, as you and Dean were.

“You guys ready?” Sam questioned.

“Of course,” Dean stood up, grabbing everything necessary and headed out the door, with you and Sam in tow. You and Sam accidentally ran into each other, trying to go out at the same time. A light blush appeared on both of your cheeks, and neither of you had noticed the others, and Sam took a step back, letting you go first. You gave him a small smile, such a gentleman. It just made you want to know if he was just as respectful in bed or if he had a dark side.

The rest of the day was filled with small, awkward touches between you and Sam. This always made both of you erupt in blush, for different but similar reasons. Oh and Dean saw it all. He didn’t seem like it, but Dean was observant, especially when it came to his girl. He noticed every small touch, every time blush appeared on your cheeks, everything.

Later that night, you three returned to the room. You were first to the shower, heading in and cleaning up. It was a simple hunt, quick salt-and-burn, but you slipped and got yourself all dirty. After about ten minutes, you stepped out of the bathroom, now dressed in Dean’s flannel and just your underwear. It wasn’t uncommon for you to be so exposed in front of Sam. You practically lived together for Christ’s sake. And normally he was respectful, keeping his eyes to himself. But something caused him to look over, looking at your ass as you spoke in careful whispers to Dean.

“Dean, did you do something with my panties?” You asked, setting down the dirty clothes into a grocery store bag to separate them from the clean ones.

“No, sweetheart, you woulda saw me, why?”

“They’re gone.” A puzzled look came onto Dean’s face at this, and he glanced at Sam, and he saw where his eyes were. His eyes were trained right onto your ass. You weren’t paying attention, putting your things back into the duffel you and Dean shared. Dean smirked a little bit and his eyes caught Sam’s. Sam sat still, like a deer caught in headlights. A couple puzzle pieces clicked together in Dean’s mind. Sam did hear you guys this morning, he has been being awkward all day and he was the one that took your panties.

“Hey Sammy,” Dean called out, “You seen her panties? The black pair?”

Sam paused, shocked that Dean just asked that. He took a moment to regain his composure as he realized Dean and you were looking at him. His thoughts were all muddled together and he made a mistake, “No, I haven’t seen any black lace panties.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed and a smirk played on his lips, “How’d ya know they were lace?”

“W-what?” Sam asked, dumbfounded and confused.

“I asked if you seen her black panties, never said they were lace.” Checkmate.

“Oh- I- Um-”

Dean grabbed your waist, possessively and pulled you backwards onto his lap, whispering into his ear, “Whatdya say, baby? Wanna have some fun with Sammy?” With a bite of your lip, you found yourself nodding. Sam wasn’t sure what Dean was whispering, but from the flustered look on your face and the smirk on Dean’s, he knew it couldn’t be good.

“Yes, sir,” you mumbled.

“And you know the safe word?” Dean quickly checked and you replied ‘whiskey’ under your breath, “Good girl, now go help my brother out of his jeans. Crawl.” At his command, you found yourself on all fours, crawling over to Sam as he sat at the table. Sam’s eyes widened as you did this, but he wasn’t complaining. His eyes flashed from Dean’s eyes to you, his heart was beating out of his chest and Dean spoke up before you touched Sam, “Don’t worry, Sammy. Im a good brother so I’ll share.” You sat up in front of Sam, looking up at him, giving him “fuck me” eyes.

“Can I touch you, sir?” You quietly asked. Sam nodded, and you immediately reached for his belt, undoing his jeans and pulling his cock out. You licked your lips at the sight, it was just a tad bit longer than Dean’s but it was less girthy. Precum leaked from the tip and you leaned forward, licking it up. Sam moaned at this. Dean chuckled as you took the tip into your mouth.

“You’ll need to excuse his behavior, love. Been a minute since Sammy’s had a good lay,” Dean spoke up and Sam’s face got red.

“Oh shut up,” he barked at Dean. Nothing, not even a pretty woman, could stop the boys from bickering. Sam went to add on but he let out a low moan as you took him deeper in your throat. He finally understood why you and Dean had so much sex, if Sam had a girlfriend this good at sucking cock, he’d have her on her knees every night too. Sam tried to hold back his moans, embarrassed at how much he felt like a teenage virgin. Your tongue traced his cock, eliciting as many moans as he would give you.

“Don’t cum in her, Sammy,” Dean warned, still sitting across the room. He palmed his hard-on at the sight in front of him. Something about seeing his girl pleasuring his baby brother was driving him fucking nuts. Sam nodded and lightly pulled your hair when he was ready to finish. You pulled back, sitting back on your calves, hands folded neatly on your lap, tongue sticking out, eyes looking up at Sam. Dean had you trained well, and soon Sam was blowing his load all over your face. Dean stood up, walking over, looking down at you, “Good girl, baby. How about you give me a treat now?” Sam had missed Dean taking his shirt off but it was off now. He watched you pull Dean’s jeans down, taking his cock into your mouth like you had Sam’s. Sam watched, a bit mesmerized at the scene in front of him.

Dean smirked, speaking to Sam, “She’s a good little cum slut, surprised we haven’t done this sooner. She’s just always so desperate to get some cock in her.” That turned you on, hearing Dean speak as if you weren’t already in the room. Your pussy clenched, and you spread your legs, gently starting to rub your clit. At this, Dean smacked your cheek, making you moan around his cock, and he warned, “Don’t touch what doesn’t belong to you.” You quickly pulled your hand back and kept working on Dean’s cock.

Sam cleared his throat, speaking up, “You..you have her trained well.” His cock was still out, now half-hard at what he was witnessing.

“Damn straight, I do,” Dean said, taking pride as he tugged on your hair, “She knows she ain’t getting shit if she’s not good.” Sam’s eyes widened, he had never had a girl that he did anything like that with. Most of the girls he had fucked were just a one time thing, and they just had basic vanilla sex. This was new to him and..and he kind of liked it.

Sam bit his lip as he watched Dean cum in your mouth. Dean pulled out, “Show.” You stuck your tongue out, presenting Dean’s cum.

“Fuck,” Sam unintentionally muttered, now fully hard. Dean smirked.

“Swallow.” You did as you were told. Dean glanced at Dean, seeing the look on her face, “You wanna give it a go? Boss her around? Do whatever you want with her, just don’t cum in my property. She listens real good.” Dean glanced down at you, lightly slapping your cheek and cooing at you, “Ain’t that right, baby?” You nodded and Dean spoke again, “Gonna be good for Sammy?” Another nod. Dean smirked and looked at Sam, waiting to see what he was going to say. It took Sam a minute to think but he eventually spoke up.

“Strip and sit on my lap,” Sam commanded you and Dean smirked, watching as you listened. You unbuttoned Dean’s flannel and shrugged it off before shimmying out of your panties. Sam looked you up and down, taking in your naked form. He licked his lips, you were prettier than expected. You sat down on Sam’s lap, thighs on either side of him, and hands on your shoulders. Dean sat aside, watching intently. He wanted to see what Sam would do. Sam leaned in and kissed you. It was a hungry but passionate kiss. Sam ran his hands along your body, pinching you nipples and squeezing your hips. He kissed down your jaw, whispering into your ear, “Bounce on my cock.”

You whimpered but listened, lining yourself up with his cock and lowering yourself down onto it. Sam squeezed your hips tight, and you quietly asked, “Can I take your clothes off, sir?” Sam nodded and you started unbuttoning his flannel.

“Ain’t she pretty, Sammy?” Dean asked, and Sam nodded. Both men looked at you with a certain type of hunger. As you adjusted to the sheer size of Sam, you stripped him of the rest of his clothes, taking a minute to run your hands along his chest.

“She’s really pretty,” Sam commented, looking at your body, “Might have to keep sharing her.” Sam felt you clench around him and he chuckled, “Did our pretty fleshlight like that? You wanna be used?” You quickly nodded and Dean gave a chuckle.

“That’d be fun, we could get her a pretty collar, keep her in nothing but that,” Dean commented back, biting his lip at the thought of that. You slowly started bouncing on Sam’s cock, lifting and dropping yourself repeatedly.

“Mmm, she loves that idea, Dean. She’s squeezing me so tight.” You didn’t know where this side of Sam came from. He was usually so sweet, caring, and respectful. But, this, this was new. Not that you minded it. Seeing the respectful brother be disrespectful was so so hot to you.

“Oh is she?” Dean asks with a smirk, speeding up his movements on his cock. Sam moved his fingers to your clit, rubbing it as you pleasured him.

“She is,” Sam replied, groaning as you began convulsing around him signaling your orgasm. Sam leaned in, “Cum for me, baby.” At this, the knot in your stomach broke and you came on his cock. You slowed to a stop and Sam raised an eyebrow, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Huh?” You replied, confused.

“I didn’t cum yet,” Sam explained.

“But my legs-” Sam replied with a swift smack to your ass. You jolted forward, and your eyes filled with tears at the sheer impact. Dean chuckled, amused by this.

Sam wrapped his hand around your throat, “Keep fucking yourself on my cock. Now.” You glanced at Dean, but he wasn’t going to help you. So, like the good trained bitch you were, you continued to bounce on his cock. Sam squeezed your ass tight, watching your tits bounce in his face. He leaned forward, taking a nipple into his mouth.

“Bite them,” Dean recommends and Sam does so, eliciting a moan-scream from you and a clench from your pretty pussy. Your body was so so so tired, but you were a good girl, you would continue to pleasure Sam. Dean found himself getting close, but he didn’t want to cum before you and Sam were done. Sam bit the other nipple, getting another of the same reaction.

“God, you’re a little pain slut, huh?”

“She sure is, bet she could cum just from getting hurt.” Dean egged Sam on.

“Sam please-!” You begged, legs tired, on the edge of an orgasm. Sam growled, turning to Dean.

“I’m gonna creampie your girl’s pussy.”

“Like the fuck you ar-” Dean tried but he stopped, seeing his was too late. Sam came in you, a ton, it leaked out around his cock. You moaned and came with Sam. Although he was just objecting, Dean finished stroking himself to the sight of you two. He then gave Sam a harsh glare.

You panted and laid down, resting on Sam’s chest. Sam smiled and wrapped his arms around you then ran his fingers through your hair. There was the sweet gentle Sammy you knew. You fell asleep there and as soon as soft snores fell from your lips, Sam had one thing to say to Dean.

“Our girl now.”

#dean winchester #supernatural #spn #winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #dean winchester smut #smut #spn smut #supernatural smut

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princessmisery666 · 8 months

Text

Just Don't Say You Love Me

Summary: Dean believes you have a good thing going. When you tell him your moving on, he realizes he needs to reassess the relationship and his life before it’s too late.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, miscommunication, unrequited love, friends with benefits, implied smut, Dean doesn’t get a happy ending.

W/C: 4,776.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Jody Mills, Sam Winchester.

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: Just Please Don’t Say You Love Me by Gabrielle Alpin.

A/N: I tried to fix the angst, but it’s not happening, so the unhappy ending will remain (for now). Special shoutout to @kazsrm67 and @pink-sparkly-witch for helping and offering words/comments of encouragement.

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes remain my own.

Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

You knock on Jody’s door, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, some residual adrenaline still playing havoc with your nerves. It’s been a long and insightful day.

Dean opens the door with a smile, but it quickly morphs into an appreciative grin as his eyes travel the length of your body. “Wow,” he says, “who knew all that was hiding under that uniform.”

You laugh, stepping through the door, not in the least bit phased by his comment. It's not the first time you’ve been told that. “Yeah, that uniform is like an invisibility cloak. I put it on, and no man sees me. Guess you're no exception,” you explain, turning to look at him again.

“Well, I see you now,” he says, quickly lifting his focus from your ass to your face. “Um, they’re through there,” he gestures for you to go ahead of him.

“There she is,” Jody says, embracing you with one arm while she places the huge bowl of salad on the table. “How’re you doing?”

“Guess I’m still a little shell-shocked, but I’m okay.”

“Well, we’re all here to help you…adjust,” Sam offers with a kind smile.

Discovering monsters are, in fact, very real and not just a Halloween marketing ploy is definitely going to be an adjustment. But what choice do you have? These people have given you an in. They’ve let you into their secret club, and honestly, you feel privileged that they trust you and think you are capable enough to help.

If you weren’t capable, neither Jody nor Dean would be here right now, a fact Sam keeps thanking you for over dinner.

“Thank you for being so cool about this,” he says again, lifting his beer bottle to clink it against yours.

“I’ll freak out later,” you joke, though you probably will.

“Seriously, you rushed in there, no hesitation, and you held your own,” Jody adds to Sam’s praise. “You certainly proved I picked the right woman for my team.”

“And I can’t thank you enough for that,” you say, genuinely grateful for the opportunity to work with her.

You’ve had some awful bosses and equally shitty jobs over the years, so it's nice to have found Sheriff Mills. Okay, so you’ll be fighting real-life monsters occasionally, but what’s a little compromise?

They answer all your questions, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little overwhelming. Dean keeps flashing a tight smile in your direction, and you’re not sure if it's meant to be reassuring or if he’s biting his tongue and trying not to be rude. Regardless of his intention, Jody and the boys’ promises to help you come to grips with it all make it seem manageable.

“Am I going to get to hear the story of how you met those two?” you ask Jody in the kitchen later.

“Definitely, but not tonight,” she explains, handing you a clean, soapy plate to rinse and dry.

Dean and Sam laugh in the other room, and Jody smiles wistfully. It’s so sweet and motherly it chokes you up a little.

“The years have not been kind to those boys,” she says, focusing back on the dishes. “They keep their circle small, and I’m grateful that they let me be a part of it, and now you get to join it, too.”

“It’s a damn good-looking circle,” you confess.

Jody chuckles, “Ah, so you noticed Dean as much as he noticed you.”

“Don’t go all matchmaker on me again,” you warn, “do I need to remind you of the disaster that was Paul?”

“No, you do not. I’m just making an observation. The circle is indeed good-looking, and Dean has been doing a lot of observing of his own.”

“Yeah, not sure that’s for the reasons you’re implying,” you say, “Dean doesn’t seem like he wants me to be helping out.”

Dean’s voice startles you, “You saved our asses.” You jump, twisting to look at him, “that’s enough.”

“But if I can do more…”

“The life of a hunter isn’t a life I'd recommend,” he explains, reaching for a beer from the fridge, “ it’s messy and painful and usually ends badly.”

“That’s life in general,” you counter, “and if something is happening and I don’t do anything to help, I’m part of the problem.”

“That’s fine,” he says, throwing his bottle top into the trash. “You’re a bigger part of the problem if you get into a situation you can’t get out of.”

“Dean,” Jody scolds, “take it easy. You said it yourself, she saved our asses today. She’s proven she’s capable.”

“All I’m saying is I’ll help where and if I can,” you explain. “I’m not going to go all Buffy the Vampire Slayer and start patrolling graveyards.”

It’s faint, but a slight quirk tugs his lips, breaking the building tension.

“Besides, I’m sure our uniform makes us invisible to monsters as well as men.”

He laughs properly at that, “Not invisible to me anymore,” his tongue sits behind his teeth, and you're suddenly jealous when he wraps his lips around the bottle.

“Good to know,” you say.

You hold each other’s gaze, perhaps a challenge to see who will shy away first.

“Cool it, you two,” Jody warns, flicking water off the tips of her fingers at you both.

“Sorry, boss,” you laugh. “And on that note, I’m gonna get going.”

“Need a ride?” Dean asks, a smug smirk in play.

“I would love one,” you wink, but follow up with, “but it’s a nice night. Think I’m gonna walk, work off some of that wine.”

“Why don’t you walk her home?” Jody suggests.

Dean nods, “lead the way.”

When you’d balked, telling Dean you didn’t need an escort, he’d countered, saying he needed the fresh air, but you think it’s more to check up on you and maybe flirt a little more without an audience if your instincts are correct. It’s been nothing but small talk since leaving Jody’s until you're standing on your porch facing one another.

“So how are you really taking all this?” he asks.

“I had a little freak out before I got to Jody’s,” you answer honestly, “but truthfully, it makes me feel a little better about the world.”

He huffs a laugh, and his confused frown is adorable. “Okay, that’s a first.”

“There’s so much evil in the world. It’s scary enough without knowing what I know now,” you explain, adding, “Maybe some of the unexplainable evil that’s all over the news is explainable. Maybe it’s not humans being horrible. Maybe it’s actually something evil.”

“Huh, I never thought of it like that.”

“I’m not saying I’ll remember that the next time a vamp is kicking my ass,” you laugh.

“Hey,” he scolds, “you agreed, no hunting.”

You hold your hands up, surrendering. “I won’t go looking for it, but if it comes to Sioux Falls, I’m all over it,” you promise, but your body has other ideas as an overall ache spreads through you as the day's events catch up with you. “Well, maybe in a few days when I’ve recovered from the last one.” Subconsciously, your tongue rolls over the cut on your bottom lip.

“That hurt?” he asks.

“I’ve had worse.” You shrug. The way he’s looking at you dulls the sting of the cut, and the tired ache in your bones shifts and reshapes into a simmering itch that needs scratching.

“You gonna be okay?” he asks, pointing over your shoulder toward your door. The implication of you being alone goes unsaid.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, trying not to roll your eyes. “But maybe you want to come in? Have a coffee or something, distract me a little longer so I don’t freak out too much?”

He smiles, wetting his lips. He knows that’s not what you're asking, and you wonder how often the offer of ‘coffee or something’ has been used successfully on him. He looks down at his shuffling feet, heaving a sigh. “I should get back.”

The hesitation is clear, yet he doesn’t move. A surge of adrenaline spreads through you, and your heart rate increases. When he looks up, catching your eyes, the intensity of the long, loaded pause is enough to make you wonder, if monsters exist, then maybe that electricity everyone talks about is real, too, because it feels like if you touch your hand to Dean’s face, sparks will fly.

“Thanks again for the save today,” he whispers.

“Anytime,” you smile.

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly you're as one, mouths connected, exploring the other’s, hands groping and gripping, and your lip stings for a split second, but then Dean has you pinned against your door, and you forget about it.

He pulls away and kisses your neck, “Maybe,” he says, scraping his teeth against your jaw, “we should take this inside.”

Your arrangement with Dean works. No pressure, no expectations. Summer comes, and winter fades, but your relationship remains mutually beneficial.

He rolls through Sioux Falls, that charming smile - that you’re not sure he knows quite how charming it is - “passing through,” but he stays a few days. He always claims it’s to catch up with Jody and the girls, but he spends most of his time at your place, and it’s too coincidental that you’re never on shift or scheduled for a few days when Baby pulls up outside.

Jody insists she has nothing to do with it. Yes, she's the sheriff, yes, she’s your boss, and makes the rotas, but “The only thing I swing is that I get to work with you,” she’d promised, winking. And you love her for that. Some of the men are still stuck in the past, and though they don’t say it, you can tell they don’t think women can do the job.

If only they knew. You’ve helped on a few hunts now. There’s no doubt in your mind that your relationship with Dean wouldn’t be what it is if you didn’t know about the real evils of the world. But each hunt ended the same: a dead monster and your body beneath Dean’s.

You're in your room lacing up your little white summer pumps when the Impala’s engine announces his arrival.

You jump to your feet, quickly check yourself in your mirror, smoothing down the already smooth summer dress, and call out, “It’s open,” when his knock echoes around the house.

“Wow, look at you,” he says, freezing partway over the threshold to admire you as you bounce down the stairs.

You deliver your usual greeting, a swift kiss to his lips, and the unmistakable aroma of leather and cheap motel soap assaults your senses - damn, you’ve missed him - but you won’t say it. Instead, you show it, making the kiss deeper.

He shuffles inside, uses your hips to steady himself as he kicks the door closed, and then wraps his arms around your waist to hold you tightly against him.

Your phone rings, and you fumble to find it on the table by the door, but as soon as you do, Dean releases you, kissing your neck and collarbone.

“Hey, hi,” you answer.

“Hey babe,” your best friend sings, and you know it's because she needs something. “Can you grab some ice on your way over?”

“Yeah, sure, okay.”

“You okay?”

No. Yes.

Dean is kneading your breasts, nibbling on the skin that spills out the top of your sundress. “Yeah, just rushing, I’m running late.”

“So late,” he mumbles into your skin.

“Well, hurry more,” she says before hanging up.

“Oh fuck, Dean, you gotta stop,” you whine.

He groans, dulling the sting of his bite with a sweet kiss, and pulls back to look at you. “This a bad time, isn’t it?”

You nod, feeling as disappointed as he looks. “It’s my friend's birthday. She’s having a barbeque.”

He sighs, leaning his head on your shoulder and mumbling into your neck. “Damn it.”

“I have to at least show my face,” you say, using your hands on his cheeks to pull his head up to look into his eyes. “But you can stay here, take a shower, watch a movie or something, and maybe in a couple of hours, I get a headache and need to come home.”

Wetting his lips, he smirks before delivering a brief kiss. “Or,” he draws out the syllable, mild hesitation clear in his eyes, “Maybe I can come with you?”

Since Chuck is no longer an issue, Dean has been making an effort to live in the moment, opening himself up, if only a little. So you try to quell the shock of his suggestion. It quickly evolves to a pleased grin when your mind flashes to your friends' faces when you walk in with the infamous Dean. They will lose their shit. You like spending time with Dean but don’t want to cross any lines or make assumptions. “I’d like that,” you smile, “but you really don’t have to.”

“I’m sure I can survive a couple hours with your friends, and you know I can always eat.”

“Okay,” you nod, smile widening. “If you’re sure.”

He kisses you again, a simple but effective peck on your lips. “But maybe we both get a headache in a couple of hours.”

“Deal,” you agree, sealing it with another casual kiss. “Maybe lose a few layers. It’s summer.”

He laughs, shrugging off his jacket. “I’m sure I have a clean Fed shirt in the trunk.”

“Perfect,” you say, grabbing your bag and keys. “Want me to drive?”

He rolls his eyes, jesting, “Did that kiss fry your brain?” as he follows you out the front door.

He opens the passenger door for you, and before you slip inside, you tell him, “Oh, and whatever my friends say I’ve said about you, it’s all lies.”

He grins smugly, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

The shower has done wonders for your developing hangover. Your friend's barbecue lasted longer than you had anticipated, but the day couldn’t have gone better.

Dean fit in well with everyone and crushed it at beer pong. It was a success all around, and when you’d quietly asked if he wanted to leave, he’d said no, that he was having too much fun.

The fun continued when you got home, and Dean is undoubtedly still feeling the effects as well. It’s almost midday, and he’s still sound asleep in your bed when you enter your bedroom in clean sweats and your bra while you towel dry your hair.

Dean is lying on his stomach, with his face smushed adorably against the pillow he’s hugging, taking advantage of all the space now that you’ve vacated.

You crawl across the bed, leaning over him, and he still doesn’t stir. You put your lips close to his ear and half whisper, “Morning.”

His brow instantly creases, and he squeezes his eyes tighter, groaning, “No, no, you have to go away.”

“You gotta get up. It’s almost midday.”

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles, eyes still squeezed shut. “You have to take your horrible talking, talky mouth away from me.”

“Okay, you asked for it.” You laugh, sitting back and wringing your hair out so the excess water drips on his naked back.

“Ah,” he groans, arching up off the mattress.

You jump off the bed, laughing as you walk to the mirror to start doing your hair. Turning over, he rubs a hand over his face and then both through his hair, causing it to stick up adorably. He catches you staring in the mirror, and you quickly avert your eyes.

“Damn, your friends can drink,” he says, sitting up against the headboard.

You laugh, that’s an understatement. “They definitely know how to have fun.”

“They seem like a good bunch.”

“They liked you too,” you smile at his reflection, and he grins back. “Laura told me to invite you to her and Chris’ wedding.”

His expression shifts, staring off into the distance for a singular moment as if he’s imagining how that would play out. But as quickly as it appears, it drops when he scrubs a hand down his face to put the mask back on. “That’s cool, but I can’t make that kind of commitment.” He swings his legs off the bed, putting his back to you. “I don’t know where I’ll be.”

You hadn’t expected a solid answer, but the double meaning behind his words settles thick disappointment in your stomach. You’ve never asked for any commitment nor discussed the arrangement between you, but hearing him say it aloud singes the hope you always try to contain.

Dean quickly gets to his feet, swaying at the abruptness. “I’m gonna grab a shower.” He mumbles, avoiding eye contact as he heads to the bathroom.

It’s been less than ten minutes, and you’re sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through your phone, when he finds the courage to face you again. He’s talking to Sam on his phone, obnoxiously loud, as he descends the stairs, trying to make a point of his hasty need to depart.

He appears in the kitchen doorway, jacket in hand, hair dripping onto the shoulders of his henley. You guess you should be grateful he wasn’t cowardly enough to have just shouted goodbye from the door.

“Listen, I’m sorry about before.” He moves closer to the table, eyeing you as he raps his knuckles on the polished wood. “It’s just that, even with Chuck out of the picture, I’m not sure how things are going to play out. I can’t make any, uh, long-term commitments. Sam and-“

“I get it, Dean.” The last thing you want is any tension between you, so you nip the growing uncomfortableness. “We don’t need to have any awkward conversations.”

He bobs his head, hope swimming in his eyes. “So, we’re good?”

You take your mug to the sink, and once your back is to him, you say, “Yeah, we’re good.”

“You sure?” You didn’t hear him move, but the air shifts behind you, bringing his warmth along with it.

Plastering on a smile, you turn to face him and nod. “Take care of yourself.”

The corner of his mouth curls upward, and he kisses your forehead before heading to the door, “Talk to you soon,” he calls before the door clicks shut.

Fools rush in. Dean is no fool. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel like being one sometimes. Usually, it’s when he’s on the road, heading home from a hunt or supply run, he daydreams about how things could be with you.

The daydream isn’t much different from how things already are. The sex would just be coupled with more official dates – dinner, movies, watching him, which for some reason turns you on, ‘do his thing’ as you call it when he’s hustling suckers at pool. Hell, even grocery shopping. He’d sneak unhealthy snacks into the cart because you promised Sam you’d take care of him, and you would. Dean knows you’d be good to him, that you are good for him. But he’s lived that life. He doesn’t need a wake-up call to know how it ends.

It’s a nice daydream. It gives him a much-needed boost of serotonin when he’s in short supply. But like the gas that fuels Baby, the thought has vaporized by the time he shuts off the engine.

Chuck isn’t calling the shots anymore, but that doesn’t mean the big bads aren’t still gunning for the Winchester's demise. Sam has it all figured out with Eileen, and Dean wishes he could be as sure about what he wants life to look like now. But he can’t be sure of anything, at least not yet. He’s still working on adjusting to a life not consumed by hunting. Trying to come to terms with the fact that there isn’t something lurking around every corner, that the choices he makes – good and bad – are truly his and not fueled by some life-ending curveball Chuck tosses at them.

The doubts bore deeper, and as always, when he’s drowning in his own head, he thinks of you.

He remembers how you busted down the door with borrowed equipment from Sioux Falls. You’d looked frantic but still in control. Your mere presence had calmed him, and not because you were there to rescue him. You didn’t waste a breath with a witty comment like he would have. You let off two shots, dropped the ghoul about to take a chunk out of him, and then untied him.

You’d been cool and calm, checked him for injuries, but didn’t believe he was truly okay till he kissed you breathless. That adrenaline-filled, kiss-swollen lips, slightly frantic edge to your eyes, is the picture he conjures whenever he thinks of you.

It’s been a while since he’s seen you. You’ve exchanged a few calls, but now that his mind is stuck on that picture of you, he has to see you.

He shoots Sam a text, telling him he’ll be in Sioux Falls if Sam needs anything, and then pulls an illegal u-turn to put himself in your direction.

Dean’s not phased that you aren’t home when he shows up. It’s not like he called ahead. He never does. But now that he’s here, he doesn’t want to waste time tracking you down, so he calls.

“Hey,” you greet brightly.

The smile in your voice brings out his. “Hey, yourself. I’m at your door.”

“Shit, sorry, I’m not there.”

He chuckles, “Are you around, or does my timing suck again?”

“No, no, it’s kinda perfect, actually,” you say. “I was gonna call you later anyway. But I need a half hour or so.”

“I can wait.”

“Greasy Sal’s?” you offer.

He smiles, already salivating at the thought of a Greasy Sal’s cheeseburger. “Throw in some curly fries,” he requests.

“Okay, got it,” You laugh.

Dean sits on the Impala’s hood while he waits, head tilted toward the sun, eyes closed while he catches the day’s last rays. The sound of your car’s engine isn’t as distinct as Baby’s, but he knows it well enough that as soon as he hears it, he opens his eyes and watches you turn onto the street. It’s not until that moment that he realizes how eager he is to see you. Maybe Greasy Sal’s can wait; he has another hunger he needs to sate.

He waits till you shut off the engine to open your door, “such a gentleman,” you quip, taking his offered hand to step onto the sidewalk. “Or are you clambering for food?”

“Not what I’m hungry for,” he says, guiding you against your car. He presses himself against you, feeling the coolness of the air conditioning on your clothes. He circles the tip of your nose with his own, whispering, “Hey,” against your lips before claiming them as his own.

Frustratingly, you push a hand into his chest after the first brush of his tongue, and he pulls back to look at you. You're looking up at him from under hooded eyes, and he feels like his heart skips a beat, or maybe he’s just a little out of breath. But he knows that with you gazing up at him like he’s a beautiful sunset, he really has missed you.

“Maybe we should take this inside.”

“Absolutely,” he says, slightly impatient that he can’t get you naked then and there.

He walks to the trunk to get your shopping bags and follows you up the path. He has a bag packed with his essentials but never brings it inside until the next morning. Something about bringing it in before you’ve had sex seems presumptuous, which is crazy because, as per the arrangement, that’s exactly what he’s here for.

“It’s good to see you,” you say, entering your kitchen with him close on your tail.

“Yeah, you too.” He genuinely means it. It’s like things fall into place when he’s around you.

“How’s Sam?”

“He’s good,” Dean explains, placing the grocery bags on the countertop. “He’s taken Eileen away for a couple days.”

“Good for them.”

You unpack the groceries and take a beer from the fridge; as always, it's his favorite brand. Though he never warns you of his pending arrival there is always a supply cooling in the refrigerator and his favorite snacks in the cupboards.

He takes the open bottle from you, leaning in to deliver another kiss, but you turn to grab more groceries, and he realizes it's a not-so-stealthy way to give him your cheek.

It seems to be the day of revelations because he’s super aware of how easily you flow around each other in the small kitchen. Dean plates up the burgers, grabbing another beer for you from the fridge, and he’s surprised to see that it’s the only one left. That, coupled with the kiss avoidance, gives him pause. Something’s wrong.

You sit at the table and take a large gulp of the beer. “You okay?” he asks once you’ve swallowed the beer and the nervousness you're exuding. “You seem a little…off.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, then inhale deeply before adding, “Actually, no, I’m not. We need to talk. And I hate how cliche that sounds, but I don’t know how else to bring it up, and I don’t want to get all emotional on you, but I need to tell you something.”

He feels the panic fizz in his gut. You can’t be pregnant. He's seen you take birth control, and he uses protection every time. So it can only be one thing …you're about to ruin everything.

You're going to utter those three words, and it's going to be the death blow to all the good stuff between you.

He takes a swig of his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Please don’t,” he begs, looking you dead square in the eyes. “What we’ve got going on is good, we’re good…”

“Dean, I …” you try, but he holds a hand up to cut you off.

“Don’t say it.” he pushes his chair back and rubs his hands on his thighs, palms suddenly sweaty. “I like what we have. It works, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look forward to it or that I don’t miss you. But I just got back a little peace of mind and…” he pauses, clearly searching for the right word, “caring about someone…” he shakes his head, reaching to wrap his hand around his beer bottle. “...Loving me, even with Chuck gone, it doesn’t make it any less of a death sentence. So please don’t say it.”

You reach across the table for his hand, clenched around his beer, but he’s quick to pull back. “Dean,” you choke out, the remorse you feel slipping from your eyes in a single tear. “I’ve met someone.”

He stares at you, mouth agape, not sure that he heard you correctly.

“It’s still new,” you continue, rushing to explain as your tears spill. “But it’s going somewhere. Somewhere great, and I don’t want to mess it up.”

Of course, you haven’t been sitting at home waiting for his sporadic visits. You’ve been out living your life as you should be. The possibility of meeting someone else, someone you could say those three words to, and it be a life sentence and not a death sentence, had occurred to him more than once. It poked at him like a swarming gnat, knowing you deserved to find someone better than him, but selfishly, he swatted at it until it went away.

He’s holding his breath and will get light-headed soon if he doesn’t find the ability to breathe again.

“Dean,” you coax, “say something.”

He feels as if you’d blindsided him, come out of the left field, and taken his legs out from under him. Now he’s on his back, the wind knocked out of him, and waiting for the feeling in his limbs to return.

Abruptly he stands. He sees the panic in your eyes and knows what’s coming. As you plead, “Don’t leave,” he says, “I gotta go.”

He strides quickly toward the door. You call his name as he goes, but he doesn’t stop.

He rushes out your front door, leaves it open, and as he reaches Baby, he has a singular moment of wondering what will hurt the least - holding on or letting go.

“Dean, please,” you call from the door.

He slides behind the wheel, deciding to let go.

Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.

Tags info

/ @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @deandreamernp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @lyarr24 / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimallina87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @pank0w / @kmc1989/ @deans-spinster-witch / @spnbaby-67 / @roseblue373

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

#jacklesversebingo23 #dean winchester #spn #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #reader insert #female reader #dean winchester angst #spn fanfic #angst #spn fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fandom #dean winchester x you #you x dean winchester

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kaleldobrev · 1 year

Text

New Record

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean and you set a new record

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Cursing (3x), Smut (P in V, Unprotected Sex), Fluff

Authors Note: Just a quickie 😉 | This is weirdly smutty but also weirdly extremely fluffy at the same time | 18+ only please | MDNI | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

You woke up in one of your favorite positions: being the little spoon to Dean. As usual in this position, his arms had an iron-like grip to them as he held you incredibly close to his chest. The top of your head was gently tucked underneath his chin; your legs messily intertwined with each other. The position felt safe, warm. Yours and his clothes from last night were still scattered haphazardly on the floor when the two of you had taken them off each other in a drunken haze like your lives depended on it. The kisses were sloppy, needy, bruising – you were pretty sure that he had left some marks on your skin; not that you minded.

You felt a slight shift as you felt Dean nuzzle even closer to you; something that you didn’t think was humanly possible but he somehow found a way. “Dean Winchester always finds a way.” He once told you. A soft kiss was placed on the top of your head, a second later he cleared his throat. “Morning beautiful.” He said lazily.

“Morning handsome.” You replied back as you slowly started to open your eyes. It was moments like these you were grateful that the Bunker didn’t have any sort of windows, as you knew that your eyes would have a hard time adjusting to the light. Not that you were particularly hung over, but you knew your eyes would be just a tad sensitive.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this.” He said, placing a delicate kiss on your bare shoulder.

“Hmmm… you say that every single morning.” You said.

“And I mean it, every single morning.” He stated, his comment making you smile. Despite how long you and Dean had been together, waking up next to you (especially waking up with you in his arms) was something that he knew that he would never possibly get tired of.

“And you’re not just saying that because I’m naked right now right?” You joked, your question making him chuckle.

“Well…” his hand started to travel down your body, finding it’s way to your ass and giving it a small smack.

“Fuck.” You mumbled.

“No, but…” the hand that was just on your ass started traveling again, but this time, his pointer finger briefly dipped inside of you, feeling your slightly wet pussy from behind. “It doesn’t hurt.” He whispered. “Last night wasn’t enough for you Princess?” He whispered again, but in your ear this time.

Due to the closeness, you had felt his slightly hard cock pressing into you; causing you to grin. “Apparently it wasn’t for you.”

“Do you blame me? Look at you.” He grinned too; trailing kisses down your jaw, to your neck, and finally stopping at your shoulder.

You turned around to face him, lifting your leg over his hip, giving him easy enough access to slip his cock inside of you if he really wanted to. It was something that he could easily do, as the tip was already touching your clit as soon as you hand swung your leg over. “Same goes for you.” You said, whispering. Without anymore hesitation, his hand wrapped around his cock, his tip teasing your entrance. “Dean…” You whispered.

“Yes baby?” He asked – like he didn’t know what he was doing. “What do you want?” He leaned in, inches away from your face.

“You.” Was all you said, which apparently was enough for him, because the next thing he did was slip his cock inside of you with one very swift movement while simultaneously kissing you. The kiss was hungry, needy; like this was the first time he had been kissing you in years, despite just the two of you making out and having sex only a few hours prior.

You moaned into the kiss, and you had wanted to say a string of profanities as soon as he slipped himself inside of you. Although not an unusual position for the two of you to have sex, you wanted more than anything to be on top. As if he could read your mind – which you were thankful that he couldn’t – he said, “On top. Now.” He practically demanded. In yet another very swift movement, you were now on top, which was easy considering the position that you had previously been in.

You were straddling him now, your hands were placed on his chest while his hands were gripping your hips. “So fucking beautiful.” He half whispered. You leaned down and kissed him, his pace starting to pick up a little now. Without breaking the kiss, Dean raised his body up, so now the two of you were in a kind of sitting position, embracing each other. His arms and hands were wrapped around you, your hands on either side of his face – easily, this was one of your favorite positions because of how intimate it was.

Dean broke away from your lips and started kissing down your jaw and neck again, stopping at your chest. Your head went back a little as he kissed the spot between your breasts, kissing and licking on and around your nipples, taking them in his mouth every so often. “Dean…fuck…” You couldn’t help but let out a very breathy moan. As you moaned these words, you could feel his lips turn into a kind of smirk. “So…close…”

“Already uh?” He asked, seeming amused. You nodded, not saying another word. As much as you had wanted to say something, you couldn’t possibly get any kind of words out. “Does my girl need to cum?”

“Yes.” You replied shakily. “Please.”

“Please?” His voice even more amused now. “So polite for me this morning.” He said, chuckling softly.

“Dean…please…” You looked at him, your eyes and voice begging.

“Alright Sweetheart, you can cum.” His voice was soft; one of his hands moving a strand of hair from your face.

“I love you.” You said, your nose slightly brushing against his.

“I love you more.” He replied. As soon as your lips crashed together, the both of you came.

“You know Sweetheart, I think that’s a new record.” Dean had said kissing the top of your head, giving your arm a slight squeeze with his hand as his arm was now wrapped around your shoulder.

“What is?” You asked, your finger tracing a small scar that he had below his ribs.

“A new record in making you cum.” He chuckled.

“Why am I not surprised?” You said, rolling your eyes.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #reader insert #female reader #dean x you #dean x reader

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impala-dreamer · 2 months

Text

When I Think About You

A Supernatural Story

~ Even the sexiest of ideas can sometimes go comedically wrong...~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader, with Sam, Jack, and Castiel cameos

2,037 Words

NSFW, Sexy Comedy, Failed Stripper Routine, Accidental Indecent Exposure, Naked Dean.

Written for @jacklesversebingo "Failed Striptease/Lap Dance" square. Hope you enjoy!!

JacklesBingo Masterlist

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

‘Ditch the boys and hurry back…’

That was all her text had said and Dean could hardly keep his mind from skipping through a field of wild sex fantasies while driving back to the Bunker.

The guys in question were left to fend for themselves, believing Dean’s excuse of Y/N not feeling well for his quick escape. They’d get a ride back to Kansas when they were ready. Hell, Sam was no stranger to hot-wiring cars and Jack needed to learn sometime.

Dean pushed the Impala down the road, breaking eighty as his imagination ran rampant. The steering column protested by shaking violently, but he knew she could do it. Besides, this was an emergency. A mysterious, sexy emergency.

Forty minutes later, Dean Winchester burst through the garage doors and into the Bunker’s expansive hallway system. She must have heard the door slam shut, for her voice called to him in a sultry echo.

“I’m in here…”

Thankfully, ‘here’ was straight ahead once Dean skidded around a corner. His boots screeched to a halt as soon as he saw her. Y/N was stretched out on the glowing table in the War Room, her curves on full display as she lay on her side facing the door.

His eyes went wide.

His heart skipped three beats.

His blood rushed south and his jeans shrunk.

“Welcome home, Mr. Winchester.”

Her lips were stained a deep crimson; her eyes lined in devilish coal. Her body was covered in emerald and black satin that clung to every dip and hid only enough to make his mouth water in anticipation. Her tits were pushed up and full, her hips wide and straining against the thin material.

Dean swallowed hard and stared at her, his vision cloudy but focused. “Uh… hey.”

A smirk tipped his lips upward and she laughed gently.

“You’re too easy to ensnare,” she teased.

In lieu of a protest, Dean gave the denim at his crotch a tug, giving his boys some room.

Y/N smiled proudly and rolled onto her belly. “Have a seat, cowboy.”

There was a single chair by the table, strategically placed for optimal viewing. Dean licked his lips and complied, quickly taking a seat.

With a tap on her phone, Y/N flooded the room with the opening riff of a very familiar song and Dean let out a soft chuckle.

“The Divinyls? Really, Y/N/N?”

She popped up onto all fours and Dean’s gaze was locked on her gorgeous, hanging tits.

“Why not?” she asked in reply. “It’s a great song. And it says everything I want to say.”

Dean inhaled slowly and sat back, reclining as he rubbed his hands down his thick thighs. The song started in full, but he couldn’t hear much but the pounding of desire in his ears. “Is that so?”

With a sexy pout, Y/N spread her knees and sat back on her heels. “It is.” A hand ran slowly down her throat. “I hate it when you’re gone so long…” She teased a finger across her cleavage, entrancing him further. “Makes me crazy…” The hand dropped farther down and skated up her inner thigh. “Makes me… touch myself…”

A rumbling moan left his lips and Dean adjusted his jeans once more. The strain was distractingly painful, but he didn’t want to rush. “Fuck, baby…”

Y/N smirked and swayed with the music as she climbed onto her feet. High above him, she moved to the beat, trying to keep in time with the song while turning him on.

Her rhythmic timing was terrible.

“I don’t want… anybody else…” She sang along, her voice deep and arousing, but the lyrics and her feet wouldn’t work together and she stumbled.

Dean hissed in a cringe of worry but she righted herself quickly, carrying on with the seduction.

“When I think about you, Dean… I touch myself…”

She turned in place, circling her hips perfectly.

His mouth watered at the thought of sinking his teeth into her plump ass. “So hot, baby…”

His praise knocked her off course and instead of dipping down into a sexy squat, Y/N lost her balance and ended up back on her hands and knees.

Seeing nothing but lust in his green eyes, she bit back embarrassment and crawled towards him. She puckered her lips and batted her eyes.

“You’re the one who makes me come runnin’...”

With unexpected dexterity, Y/N hopped down from the table and spun towards him.

Dean spread his legs as she moved between them; held his breath as she ran a hand down his chest.

“You’re the sun who makes me shine…”

Dancing closer, Y/N lifted her knee to rest on the chair and give him a show, but she clipped his sack and Dean’s eyes went crossed.

“Holy shit!” She jerked backward. “I’m sorry!”

Dean held up a hand and shook his head; lips still sealed tight against a whimper. “We’re good. We’re good. Carry on.”

Carefully, Y/N picked up the beat again and wiggled for him. He smiled and she bit her lip coyly as she teased the strap of her bra off her shoulder.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he praised as feeling returned to his privates. “So hot.”

Blushing, she turned away and dropped the other strap. “Been thinking about this all week,” she cooed.

“Me too.” Dean shifted in the chair, watching as she slowly unhooked the clasps holding her tits in place. “Missed those beautiful ti-”

As she whipped the bra off, her elbow connected with his chin and Dean’s teeth clanked together painfully. The ringing filled his skull and he shook himself to clear away the stars circling overhead.

“Fuck!” Y/N rushed to him and gingerly held his face. “I’m so sorry, Dean. Fuck!”

He blinked up at her and cleared his throat, coming back to reality. “It’s uh… It’s OK…”

Her shoulders dropped. “No, it’s not! I almost gave you a concussion!” The embarrassment breached containment and ruined her plans. “I’m so sorry. I just wanted to give you a treat, ya know? Like, do something super sexy when you got home and I- I fucked it all up.”

The disappointment on her face broke his heart just as much as her elbow to the face had killed his erection.

Standing up, Dean wrapped her in his arms. He tried to ignore the fact that her naked breasts were pressed so enticingly against his chest.

“Baby…” He kissed her forehead. “You did great.”

She groaned.

An idea sparked in his head.

“Hey, why don’t you take a seat and I’ll show you how it’s done…”

His wink made her melt and Y/N sank into the chair, covering her bare chest with an arm.

The speakers were silent for a moment as Dean climbed up onto the table. He took a breath and turned his back to her, preparing. When the song started again, he grabbed each side of his unbuttoned gray flannel and whipped them open. He rolled his hips and tugged the fabric from his right shoulder and glanced behind him. Y/N’s sadness had vanished, replaced by a look of pure wonder. He winked again and she swooned dramatically.

Another rock of his hips and he switched sides, exposing the black tee on his left shoulder.

Y/N whistled. “Yeah! Take it off!”

“I don’t want… anybody else…” Dean took to singing along as the flannel left his body. He turned and tossed it at Y/N who caught it and buried her face happily in the musky fabric. “When I think about you…”

His belt buckle opened easily and Dean evicted the leather from its usual place with a flick of his wrist. The metal crackled on the table and Y/N sucked in a quick breath.

“OK, that was hot…” She slid down on the chair as her knees fell apart in a less-than-ladylike pose.

Dean grinned and reached behind his head, grabbing a fistfull of fabric. “You know it, baby.” In one swift motion, he pulled his tee up over his head and balled it up.

Y/N’s jaw dropped at the sight of his big bare arms and soft stomach. A lustful moan was stopped short when she bit down on her bottom lip.

The tee landed at her feet.

“I close my eyes and see you before me…”

Dean was so far off-key he wouldn’t be able to find the ring, but Y/N didn’t care. She couldn’t hear a damned thing above her own heavy breaths and racing pulse.

He kicked off each boot; let his jeans pool on the table.

“I touch myself… I honestly do…”

Y/N’s vision blurred everything but Dean. She was captivated and aching, practically drooling by the time he jumped down from the table and stood before her. Her body was throbbing, her nipples hard and ruddy.

Dean moved between her knees and set his hands on the arms of the chair.

“Like what you see?” he asked, rolling his body into her.

“So much…”

He dipped down on a trajectory for her waiting lips, but pulled back at the last second, leaving her needy and whimpering.

“Oh, you’re good at this.”

Spinning around, Dean gripped the chair again and lowered himself down over her lap. “I’ve had a lesson or two over the years.”

He arched his back and rubbed his ass against her panties.

“Let’s not discuss your past exploits right now…”

Perching lightly on her thighs, Dean grabbed her hands and placed them on his chest. “Whatever you say, baby. It’s your buck.”

Guided by his touch, Y/N’s hand fell down his body, enjoying the twitch of each muscle, the heat pulsing off of him. She shivered and felt the wetness drip between her thighs.

“I’m not paying for this,” she teased, reaching into the elastic of his boxers.

“Well…” Dean spun again and sank to his knees. He moved in for a kiss and her heart stopped. “I’m sure I can think of a way for you to repay me.”

This time, his lips landed and Y/N crumbled. Her blood sizzled as he licked into her mouth. She clawed at his thick shoulders when he nibbled at her throat and moaned his name as he rolled her nipple between his lips.

As the song looped for the sixth time, Dean kissed his way down her body and pressed his hot mouth against her covered pussy. She arched her back and moaned loudly, so ready for his tongue. She lifted her left knee and rested it on his shoulder; gripped the chair as he licked at the wet spot on her panties.

“Dean… fuck… I-”

“Just relax, baby.” Slowly, he licked her again. “I’ve got you.”

Her head fell back as his fingertips snuck into the hem of the emerald satin and she held her breath as he peeled the fabric down.

“Fuck-”

Dean grinned and licked his lips at the sight of her swollen clit, pulsing and ready for him. “Fuck…”

“Fuck!”

They hadn’t heard the big door open and close, hadn’t heard the footsteps thudding on the iron balcony as the guys walked in.

Y/N did, however, hear Sam’s gasping curse.

“Holy fuck!” She jumped in the seat, quickly covering her chest as Cas and Jack appeared at his side.

Startled but disinterested in stopping, Dean sat back a bit and looked up at the crew. “Hey guys!”

Sam rolled his eyes and Jack leaned over the railing to see what was going on. Quickly, Castiel laid his hand over his eyes, blocking the pornographic scene from view.

Concerned, Jack tried to squirm away. “What is it? Is Y/N OK?”

Dean, still toying at the edge of her panties, grinned up at the angel and his brother. “Oh, she’s more than OK!”

Disgusted, Sam threw his hands up and backed away.

Jack clawed at Castiel’s fingers, trying to pry them off.

The angel shook his head at Dean.

Y/N covered her face, then her tits, then her face, then gave up. “Hey, Cas?”

He cocked his head. “Yes, Y/N?”

“How hard is it to die from embarrassment?”

#dean x reader #spn fanfic #supernatural #fanfiction #dean winchester/reader #jacklesversebingo23

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little-diable · 7 months

Note

Sorry you're not feeling well! How about something like Priest Dean/Reader, and "Father" very quickly turns into Daddy. He's probably under cover for another one of those reaper/healer deals, and the reader is getting scammed.

Hi lovie, thank you for this and for inspiring this drabble! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Pure pwp, bj in a confessional

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (m), face fuck, daddy kink

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (700 words)

She felt her heart racing, spurred on by excitement, by the feeling of danger. With her eyes focused on the handsome man towering over her, (y/n) waited for his next command. Father Winchester wore a grin so devilish, she feared she was already stuck in hell, unable to escape the devil’s grasp.

“Beg for it, sweetheart.” A cross dangled from his neck, like a pendulum it swung over her, deciding her fate. She had prayed that she’d end up in this very position, on her knees for the man she so desperately wanted to touch. (Y/n) wouldn’t have asked the Holy Father for any help if it weren’t for that small nagging feeling, telling her that the man she was interested in was only putting on a facade, not a real priest.

“Let me taste you, please, I want to make you feel good, father.” (Y/n) whispered her words, staring up at him to watch his every expression change. The groan rumbling through the priest left her grinning in success, parting her lips for his darkening eyes, exposing her eager tongue to him.

“You know that’s not how to address me, right?” He fumbled with his trousers to free his hardening cock as he swallowed in excitement, about to fuck her mouth.

“Please, daddy.” Raspy chuckles left the man as he forced his cock into her mouth. Both moaned at the sudden intrusion, eyes rolling into the back of their heads as if a demon was now feasting from their souls. Dean didn’t hold back, didn’t give her much time to adjust, he was eager to fuck her face, to make her gag on his cock as if it was the last thing she’d do before leaving this place behind.

The confessional gave them enough privacy, and yet it began to close in on them with every further sound leaving them. It felt as if God and the Devil were watching the two, making bets on their bodies and souls to win them for their own greedy longings.

“Fuck, I knew that mouth of yours would be my end.” His groaned words left her humming, allowing the sound to vibrate on his skin to draw another moan from him. His darkening green eyes stared down at her with something dangerous laced in his gaze, making her shudder in excitement.

For a second she pulled away, pumping his cock with her hand as she caught her breath. (Y/n) smiled at him as her eyes wandered over his pleasure-drunken features, proud of herself for making him feel like that.

“Fuck my face harder, please, daddy. Use me.” (Y/n) whispered the words, gasping in surprise as his hand found her hair to hold her in place. Within seconds he had pushed back into her mouth, set on a fast pace to fuck her mouth like she had asked him to. She gagged around him with tears running down her cheeks and spit dripping from her chin, making a mess on the holy ground.

He twitched in her mouth, was close to filling her cheeks with his cum, and yet his pace didn’t falter, keeping her as close as possible. Her glassy eyes watched his every move, not wanting to miss a single second as he chased his orgasm.

And with a deep groan, he came, head rolling back, hand tightening its grip on her hair. She greedily swallowed every drop as he pulled away, watching her with adoration swimming in his pupils.

“Let me give you a small advice, father, the next time you want to deceive people with that priest act, don’t fuck their mouths like that, no priest would be this good.”

#Dean Winchester smut #Dean Winchester imagine #Dean Winchester x reader #priest fic

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e-dubbc11 · 27 days

Text

Still?

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Hunter Reader

Warnings: Swear words, mentions of guns and gunshot wounds, smexy imagination (f! Receiving oral), mentions of death, a few tears, smooches, alludes to sex

Word Count: 3.9K-ish

Summary: After a run in with a shapeshifter and the local police, you end up with a bullet wound that you can’t patch up yourself. You call your best friend that you haven’t seen in a couple of years and that you’ve been in love with since you were kids

A/N: Spoilers for anyone that’s never watched the show, or watched past season 5. This takes place a couple of years after the apocalypse and Sam goes into the cage with Lucifer and Dean shows up at Lisa’s door.

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

Your escape hadn’t been easy but you managed to get away and with only one bullet wound courtesy of the local police. Of course they didn’t believe you when you told them that the “person” they were tracking wasn’t you, it was only someone who looked exactly like you.

The shifter would have to wait, you needed this bullet out of your oblique muscle now but you weren’t going to be able to get it out by yourself and there was no way you could go to a hospital with your face plastered all over the news.

But you were alone without anyone to call. Well, that’s not exactly true, there was one person you could call but you did not want to see him. However, what other choice did you have?

After checking into a motel outside of town (they probably hadn’t seen the news yet), you texted him.

You awake? I need your help.

It was late so you were surprised to see the three dots immediately appear underneath your message.

On my way. Text me your location.

You gave him the address of the motel and he wrote back that he was about 40 minutes away so all you could do was sit and wait.

The sky had been in a vengeful mood all day and finally after a particularly loud crack of thunder, the sky split in half and you could hear the rain hammering against the roof and pelting the hoods of the cars outside your door.

Hoping it wouldn’t impede his arrival time, the incessant rainstorm dumped buckets of rain leaving massive puddles in the parking lot and the runoff water sounded like a waterfall falling into the storm drain.

After you sent the text, he was all you could think about…Dean Winchester. He was your childhood friend, fellow hunter and the man who’s had your heart ever since you were kids…although he didn’t know it.

**********

You met Dean, his brother Sam, and their father John when you were 12. Dean was 14 and Sam was 10. You and your mother were crashing at Bobby’s for a couple of days after a particularly draining hunt for a vampire nest.

The only familiar voice coming from downstairs was Bobby’s, but there were also three others so you decided to investigate while your mother was still sleeping off your first big kill.

Creeping down the stairs, you tried to make as little noise as possible and as you peered around the corner, the cutest boy you had ever seen was directly in your line of sight.

He was wearing a brown leather jacket, had light brown hair, eyes the color of summer grass, and a sprinkling of freckles across his nose. Immediately, your heart started beating faster and you felt flutters in your stomach. You were smitten.

Suddenly, the stairs creaked underneath your feet, they all turned and saw you standing there staring at all of them with a nervous smile on your face. Your heart was beating even faster now, heat rushed to your cheeks, and the palms of your hands became very warm.

You remembered you had just gotten out of bed after a long nap so you nervously and absentmindedly started to smooth your hair and adjust your clothes while averting your gaze from Dean to your Henley shirt and jeans.

“Well look who’s awake. C’mere, sweetie, I’d like you to meet some friends of mine.” Said Bobby.

Feeling your knees beginning to shake, you slowly walked over to them, and stopped next to Bobby. Your eyes darted back and forth from Bobby back to the Winchesters as you gave them a slight smile and wave.

“Y/n, these are the Winchesters. That’s John, Dean and Sam. Y/n and her mother are resting here for a couple of days after a vamp hunt.” Bobby stated.

Dean looked a little surprised to know that you were a hunter too but learned quickly after a few hunts together that your mother taught you well. Also, after meeting your mother, she and John went on to have a brief relationship. Sometimes, they left the three of you behind to go off on their own hunts so you got to know Dean and Sam very well.

It was just nice to have friends in a “profession” where you normally worked alone.

You helped them anytime they needed you to and they would do the same for you. The three of you had been through a lot together, losing the only parents you had left, helping them track down the yellow-eyed demon that killed their mother, and trying to help Sam get Dean out of the pit of hell.

As you grew into adults and while on hunts, there were plenty of shared motel rooms, literally being in tight spaces, listening to the water run while he was in the shower, wondering if there were eyes on the other side of the door as you changed clothes…your sexual feelings for Dean were growing stronger too and you had gathered up the courage to maybe finally tell him.

But then it all vanished like air from a popped balloon.

You weren’t there when it happened, you were off on a hunt of your own but Bobby told you about Sam getting locked in the cage with Lucifer. Knowing that Dean must be devastated, you tried to call but there was no answer. And the next time you called, a woman answered which prompted you to quickly hang up.

“I didn’t want this for ya, kid.” Bobby had said, trying to console you.

Fresh sobs escaped from your throat. “Why didn’t he come to me, Bobby?!! He’s my best friend and he went to someone else?! She doesn’t know him like I do! She doesn’t know the life!” You cried.

Bobby was like a father figure to you and he tried, he really did but he didn’t know what to do to try and make it better.

“I know, kiddo. I know.” Bobby said softly. “I got somethin’ to tell ya, though. We need your help.”

Confused by the term “we”, you swiped the tears away from your cheeks and heard the front door open. Sam walked in and they both explained everything that was going on, how they’re purposely leaving Dean out of it because he was happy living a normal life which just made you sad but you agreed to help hunt down a powerful group of djinn that was after the boys for killing one of their own awhile back.

They were closing in on Dean. They stalked him, caused him to hallucinate, see things that weren’t there which is when Sam and Bobby decided to pull Dean back into it and that was when you had to walk away. He was already on your mind all day every day but you couldn’t see him again. It hurt too much, he hurt you too much.

But the brothers were back together again, you were saving people and hunting things by yourself which probably wasn’t a great idea but you’ve hunted alone since your mother’s passing. Now, you’re stuck outside of a shit town and waiting for the best friend you haven’t seen in over two years to come and help you.

What were you going to say to him?

Well, you had about 20 minutes left to try and figure it out.

**********

You could hear the low growl of the Impala and as it grew closer, the growl became a rumble before it stopped completely when Dean turned off the engine. The room was completely quiet; you didn’t have the tv or the radio on as you sat at the kitchen table carefully listening to the drumming of the rain up above you and trying not to wince at the pain in your side from the bullet. Then you heard the signature door squeak as it slammed shut, followed by five loud raps against the motel room door.

“Sweetheart, are you in there? Open up!” Shouted Dean over the rain.

“Sweetheart?” You whispered to yourself. “He has a lot of damn nerve!”

Turning to face the door, you yelled out, “IT’S OPEN!”

Dean stormed through the door.

“Are you nuts?!!” He yelled, coldly.

“Jury’s out on that one, Winchester. Lock the door behind ya, will ya?” You replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

He glared at you. “Leavin’ the door unlocked, y/n…seriously, what is wrong with you?!”

You closed your eyes, shrugged and frowned in his direction.

“Alright…show me what happened. I heard your name all over the news…shapeshifter?” Asked Dean.

You nodded and showed him the wound on your back, right on the love handle.

“You sure the bullet didn’t come out?” Dean asked.

“Uh yeah, I think I would have noticed if I had another hole in front, Dean!!” You yelled through gritted teeth.

“Well you don’t have to yell at me! I’m here aren’t I? Actually, I’m surprised you texted me, Sam busy or somethin’?” He asked with a sly smile on his face.

“You know he’s working on something else so don’t play dumb with me Dean Winchester!” You hissed.

He was frustrating you to no end and he’s been there for five minutes.

“Get this bullet out of me now before I bleed out all over this floor!” You said.

Dean pointed toward the bathroom.

“Ok, ok, get in the bathroom, hands on the counter but before you do that, you’re gonna have to inch your pants down a little.” He said.

Caught off guard, you stumbled over your words.

“U-uh…y-you want m-me to do what?”

“Just inch them down a little bit; they’re just gonna be in the way if you leave them in place.” He said.

Dean set up everything he needed to extract the bullet on the counter. The only anesthetic he had with him was alcohol which took away only a fraction of the pain whether you were drinking it or pouring it on the wound.

The look on your face could have scalded paint off of the walls and your voice was tight with anger as you weaved a web of profanities so obscene, you would have probably made a sailor blush. Dean had finally managed to get the bullet out intact, stop the bleeding, and put a bandage on the wound.

“Thank you.” You said sheepishly as if you didn’t just spend an hour cursing his very existence.

Another sly smile stretched across his lips as he finally replied, “You’re welcome, sweetheart. You have some sweats or somethin’? Jeans are gonna be too harsh to rub against the wound.”

You did have some in your bag that was on one of the beds.

“They’re in my bag. I’ll get them.” You said starting to walk out of the bathroom.

He held his hands out in front of you, “Whoa, no…I’ll get them, just stay right here.” He said.

With your hand resting on the counter, you tried to take the weight off of your left side while Dean ran out to the other room to get your sweatpants. The bullet wound was really quite painful.

He set the sweats on the counter, inched closer to you and reached for the waistband of your jeans.

“Hey, hey…what are you doin’? I can do it myself, ya know.” You said in a scolding tone.

He folded his arms across his chest and with narrowed eyes, and asked with a smirk “Oh really? Ok, well I’ll be right on the other side of that door. Call me when you need my help because you will.”

He tapped you gently on the nose.

Scoffing at him, you tried your best to get your jeans off and put your sweatpants on but the pain was just too much. You were definitely going to need his help.

Softly, you called out to him.

“Deeeeeean?”

You could feel him smiling on the other side of the door.

“Yessssssss? You need some help in there or somethin’?” He asked in a semi-taunting voice.

Deflated, you replied, “Yes please.”

Dean slowly opened the door with a wide smile on his face, walked toward you and once again reached for the waistband on your jeans. Gently, he inched them down your thighs, all the way to your ankles before he had you rest your hands on his shoulders so he could take them off completely. If he only knew what this was doing to you.

He was eye level with your core, looking up at you through his long lashes with those beautiful green eyes of his and all you could think about was what it would be like to have his face buried in between your thighs, tasting you, and tongue fucking you until you see stars.

“I still can’t believe you fight monsters in a thong.” He chuckled.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you replied, “Oh my god, not the time! This is SO not the time for that!”

He laughed at you again as he gently pulled the sweatpants up, being careful not to touch your bullet wound, until he was gazing down at you fondly with a slight smirk on his face.

“Come on. I’ll help you to the bed.” He said.

After easing you down onto the bed, Dean started to gather everything he brought inside with him to bring out to the car.

You caught yourself staring at him. Actually, it was more like staring AND clenching. You’ve been in love with Dean Winchester since you were 12 years old and he’s never even tried to kiss you but you’ve wanted him to every single time you have been in the same room with him. He was all you had ever wanted.

As he continued to gather his things and clean up, you finally asked him with a hitch in your voice, “Why?”

“Why what, y/n?” He replied, still shoving things into his bag.

Tears stung the back of your eyes as you answered.

“Why did you go to her and not me after Sam went into the cage?! WHY?!” You asked. “I thought we were best friends, Dean!”

Stunned, Dean knew you weren’t going to let him leave without giving you an answer but the dejected look on his face told you he knew he made a huge mistake cutting you out like he did.

“I-I don’t know, y/n. I really don’t know. I got in the car and I started to dial your number but I stopped myself because I didn’t want you to see me like that! I didn’t want you to see me broken and hollow, ok?!” He said.

“So you went to someone who doesn’t even know you like I do? Doesn’t know the life? Doesn’t know that this life took the people that we loved the most in this world away from us?!! What kind of comfort could she have been to you?!!” You yelled. “Oh wait, nevermind. I actually know the answer to that one.”

“HEY! That is NOT fair!” Dean growled back.

“Oh you wanna talk about fair?! I called, texted, called again…one of those times, SHE answered your phone and I gave up after that. But you didn’t bother to call me back, EVER!! How fuckin’ fair is that, Dean?!” You sobbed with tears streaking down your cheeks.

You could see it in his eyes how angry and hurt he was. Dean’s lips were pulled tight in a straight line and the muscles in his forearms immediately tensed before tightly clenching his fists. He was trying his hardest not to snap back like you knew he wanted to.

Dean then shakily placed his hands on the back of a kitchen chair, leaned forward, and stared down at the floor for a minute before bringing his gaze back up to you.

“Look y/n, I guess I went to Lisa to feel better about myself knowing that I could protect her and Ben, to make up for not being able to protect Sam. You’ve never needed me to protect you, even when we were kids so I just went to them instead where I knew I could be of some use.” Said Dean.

Fighting back your tears but failing miserably, you replied, “When have you ever not been useful, Dean? All I wanted was to comfort my friend, my BEST friend, help you figure out how to get Sam out of the cage…something! But you didn’t give me that chance, did you.”

With his eyes shut tight, Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a low growl. You knew the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt you but it was too late for that. Over two years had passed since you had seen him last but not a day had gone by where you didn’t think of him, miss him, or not love him. You thought maybe those feelings for Dean would eventually go away, but they never did and they never will.

You were young and it was a childhood crush, it should have gone away but those feelings for him just became stronger as the years passed so when Bobby told you Dean was with someone else it felt as though someone was crushing your heart inside your chest.

That dull ache would never go away and it became a sharp pain as soon as he barged into your room tonight. Seeing him again brought all of those feelings back to the surface, made your entire body tingle, and you wanted him more now than ever before.

The only people that knew your true feelings for Dean were Bobby and your mother. She knew from the minute she met the Winchesters that you had eyes for Dean.

Bobby only found out after he told you about Lisa but you made him promise not to say anything which he had kept tight to his chest until his passing. But you were unsure if Dean had any idea about your feelings for him.

“When have you ever NEEDED my help, y/n?!” Dean asked in a raised tone.

You replied, “NEEDED? Never, I’ve never NEEDED your help or anyone else’s help but I’ll always WANT it! I’ll always want…”

A lump formed in your throat as you finished your sentence.

“You…I’ll always want you, Dean.” You said with trembling lips.

“Say that again.” Said Dean.

Your heart lurched into your throat as you tried to get your words out again. With a deep inhale and a forceful exhale, you told him again.

“I always want you, Dean. I always have.” You finally said.

You could practically see the words bouncing around inside his head like in a pinball machine.

“This is gonna sound really cheesy but I’m tipsy from those shots of whiskey so here goes nothin’…I have never wanted, nor will I ever want, anyone else except you, Dean Winchester. I’ve been in love with you since I was 12 years old, no matter how many times I’ve tried to push it away, no matter how many times I told myself it was ‘just a crush’, and I even told myself that you’d probably never love me back. I still love you!” You said with conviction through tears and a slight nervous chuckle.

“Son of a bitch…I need to sit down.” He said, pressing his palm to his forehead and planting himself in one of the kitchen chairs.

You started to get up off of the bed.

“Lemme get you some wa—“ You started to say.

Dean held out his hand to stop you.

“No! Don’t you dare get up. You’re the one with the bullet wound and I’m just a clueless asshat apparently.” He said.

That made you laugh.

Cutting through the awkward silence, Dean said, “I really can’t explain what it was, what I felt but something happened to me every time I saw you smile, every time you laughed, or hugged me, and even when you poked fun at me. I knew that I never wanted to NOT hear your voice, feel the extra squeeze at the end of your hugs, or see your eyes light up when I walk through the door. Even when you’re pissed at me like earlier tonight, your eyes never lie, you’re STILL happy to see me.”

“Dean…” You started to say but he cut you off again.

“I think that’s why I could never really be in love with Lisa because I was already in love with…you.” Dean said in a low gravelly tone.

His words made your stomach drop, those words that you never thought you would hear other than the love you shared between friends, but he was in love with you too which made your heart soar.

You wanted to go to him so you tried to stand up but again he stopped you.

“Whoa! What did I tell you about getting up, huh? Just stay there. Now what do you need? I’ll get it.” He asked.

“I need you to kiss me, Dean.” You replied in barely more than a whisper.

He stood up, slowly walked over to the bed and gently helped you up to standing.

“You ok?” He asked softly.

You nodded as he titled your chin up so you were looking up into his green eyes. With his hands cupping your cheeks, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to yours. Dean’s tongue swept your lower lip before parting them and pressing it against your teeth wanting desperately to tangle with yours.

He pulled you flush against him as your arms snaked around his neck and he continued to kiss you hungrily while the ache between your thighs felt like it was going to explode.

Great…what a time to be wounded and in pain.

Dean loved to hear his name fall from your lips over and over again as he kissed up and down your neck and you loved to say it like a favorite song you had memorized all of the words to. You let your fingers glide through his hair as his lips collided with yours again and he whispered again and again how beautiful you were.

You always wondered what this would be like, to have his lips on yours, his calloused hands touching your body, caressing your face, telling you that he loved you and it was everything you hoped it would be; it was the best kiss of your life.

He accidentally got too close to your wound as he moved his hand to your lower back.

“Ow, ow, ow.” You said wincing in pain.

He apologized profusely.

“Oooh shit! I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry…for everything.” He said as he gently brushed your cheeks with his knuckles.

You gave him a warm smile and replied, “It’s ok, I still love you, Dean.”

He kissed you again, his lips were soft and tasted like dark roast coffee; you never wanted him to stop.

“Still?” He asked with a wink.

You winked back. “Still.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He said, kissing the tip of your nose. “I always will.”

“Always?” You asked, biting back a smile.

Dean licked his lips before kissing you again.

“Always.” He said with a sly smile. “I’m taking you back to the bunker with me and when you’re all healed up? Plan on not leaving my room for at least a couple of days. I’m gonna show you how much I love you, over and over, and over again.” He purred in your ear.

Heat rose to your cheeks, you felt delightful sparks run down your back, and choked on the lump in your throat.

“Well…until then, can you just kiss me over and over and over again?” You asked.

He replied with a warm smile, “I think I can do that, baby.”

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @vaguekayla @stoneyggirl2

Others that might enjoy: @k-marzolf @jvanilly @fluffyprettykitty @deans-spinster-witch @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #supernatural

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 6 months

Text

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 9

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, some smut.

Word Count: 6,553

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: Since I haven't posted anything on this series for the last two weeks, I thought I'd get this chapter out to you guys early, instead of waiting for Saturday. I hope you think it was worth the wait. The last chapter will be posted on Saturday, April 13. Thanks for all your support of this series! ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The dividers below were created by @saradika

3 weeks later

He’d lost them. They were gone.

Their screams echoed in his ears as he came awake with a start, breathing hard and fast.

Dean sat up and swung his legs over the side of the cot, feeling Y/N shifting beside him.

“Dean?” Her voice was squeaky and thick with sleep.

She sat up and began rubbing her hand across his back as she moved to sit beside him. He didn’t need to explain why he was awake and breathing as though he’d run a mile.

Y/N kissed his shoulder and he felt the heat of her lips through his thin cotton t-shirt. “It was just a dream.” She kissed him again. “Just a bad dream. Everything’s okay.”

Dean nodded absently and then turned towards her and cupped her cheek in his hand; he needed to touch her, feel she was real. He kissed her lips, soft and brief before he turned to look at Emma sleeping across the tent. She looked so tiny, dwarfed even by the small cot.

Dean stood up and crossed to her. Her little limbs were completely tangled up in the blankets and her head was nearly hanging off the side of the cot. Dean leaned down and adjusted her position to something comfier. He untangled her and tucked the blanket around her properly before reaching up and pushing back her messy brown curls from her forehead. He trailed his knuckles over her soft cheek and took comfort in the sleepy sigh that escaped her.

He stood staring at her a moment before he felt Y/N come up behind him and take hold of his bicep, pressing another kiss into the muscle there. He turned to look at her and the concern in her gaze was obvious, making him feel guilty. He bent to kiss her again, more lingering this time, as he buried his fingers in her soft, silky hair.

She kissed him back and wound her arms around his waist. When he pulled away, the warmth of their kisses had burned away some of the worry in her eyes and he was glad. He kissed her forehead and nodded towards the cot.

“Sorry I woke you. You should go back to sleep.”

She cocked her head and shot him a look with an arched brow. “So should you.”

Dean lifted one corner of his mouth in his best attempt at a smile.

“N’ah, I got my four hours. I’m good.” When Y/N opened her mouth to argue again he spoke before she could. “I have some stuff I gotta work on. So, you go back to bed.”

He pecked her lips once more and then stepped out of her arms, grabbing his jacket as he headed out; March may have been going out like a lamb, but there was still a brisk chill in the air outside the warm tent.

He knew he’d never be able to concentrate on any of the things that he actually should be doing so he just walked. He walked all through the camp, weaving between tents and nodding at the odd person who was out and about like him. He went to the garage and thought about working on Baby, but there really wasn’t any more he could do until they could go out and find her four new tires.

So he kept walking. He walked and walked until he came to the river. Most of its winter ice was broken up and within a couple weeks people would be able to come for cold baths once again which would be welcomed happily after months of unsatisfying basin baths.

It was probably dangerous for him to be so far from camp without another person, but he had his gun strapped to his thigh as always and the silence and wide open space around the edge of the river was soothing. He needed an escape from the relentless visions that swam in his mind’s eye. Horrific visions of Y/N and Emma being torn apart right in front of him.

He dropped to the ground to sit; his shoulders were bent and he dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to gouge out the images.

Every night for weeks now he’d had the same kinds of dreams. There was never any specific situation in the dreams, at least nothing he could remember. But he just knew Y/N and Emma were being hurt and it was his fault.

Cas still hadn’t heard anything from the angels, no angel radio, and no contact from anyone. But his powers seemed to be mostly back. He still couldn’t teleport, but he could heal - they’d tested it again just to make sure it wasn’t a one time fluke. But Dean cut a long gash in his arm and the angel had mended it quickly and easily. Cas could also tap people to sleep, and he said he’d begun to “see like an angel” again. Dean wasn’t a hundred percent sure exactly what that meant, but it sounded important.

There was no doubt the angels were back on earth. And they’d be coming for him.

***

Later that afternoon Dean sat at their table, as Y/N planned out a lesson for the next day. But his mind was still miles away, desperately turning possibilities over and over in his mind. For the last couple of months, since they figured out the truth about Y/N, he, Y/N and Cas had been working on a game plan for how to track down other younger generation psychic kids, as well as figuring out how to go about searching for former scientists, doctors, researchers, or anyone who might know enough to try and create a vaccine.

They knew it would be incredibly hard and time consuming, but they were determined. Or at least Cas and Y/N were determined. Lately Dean had begun considering another possibility.

As he sat worrying and contemplating things, Emma surprised him out of his stupor, climbing into his lap and putting her little hand on his cheek.

Dean worked up a small smile for her sake, but it obviously wasn’t enough because she spoke in a solemn voice.

“Are you sad?”

Dean shook his head and forced his smile wider. “No, of course not.”

“You look sad.”

Dean marveled at the little girl’s intuition (she was her mother's daughter) but he shook his head again. “N’ah, I’m fine, kiddo. Just thinking.”

“Bout what?”

“Nothing important, just some boring grownup things.” He tugged her braid and changed the subject. “How was school?”

Her eyes lit up and lost their look of worry. “It was good! Mommy read us a book about a dog. He was red and really huge!”

Dean chuckled. “Ah, yeah. Clifford.”

“Yeah!” Emma exclaimed excitedly. “Did you read that book before?”

He nodded. “Oh sure, there are a bunch of Clifford books. I used to read them all the time to…” He stumbled over his words for a moment, but cleared his throat and continued. “I used to read them to my little brother all the time when we were kids.”

As always, thoughts of Sam and who he used to be, sliced a deep cut into his heart, but he was used to how it bled so he could mostly ignore it. Emma’s bright blue eyes turned pleading.

“I want a dog like Clifford. Can we get one?”

Dean smiled. “Don’t think there’s too many dogs like Clifford out there. He’s pretty big and red.”

Emma shrugged. “K, just a normal dog then? Please?”

Dean chuckled and shook his head. Before he could say anything though, Emma was quick to explain herself.

“He doesn’t have to live in the tent, he could just live in the camp. He could be our camp dog, like Lily is our camp cow.”

Dean sighed as Emma stared up at him, her little face imploring. “Pleeeease.” She repeated. He saw Y/N smirking out of the corner of his eye, but she said nothing.

“We’ll have to see kiddo, okay?” He said with a kiss to the top of Emma's head. Her face fell a little but she shrugged.

“M’kay.” She mumbled.

Y/N stood up and reached for Emma’s hand to help her hop down off of Dean’s lap. “Okay, baby, go outside and run off some energy before supper.” She helped Emma into her jacket and the little girl bounded towards the exit.

“Stay close to the tent.” Y/N called to her.

Emma gave a pout. “Can’t I go see Julianne and Keisha?”

“Fine, but no further.”

Emma took off quickly just in case Y/N changed her mind.

Y/N chuckled lightly and then walked over to where Dean sat. When she got there she lowered herself to her knees in front of him and laid her fingertips against his jaw.

“Wanna talk about some of those boring grown up thoughts swirling around in your head and keeping you so distracted.”

Dean gave a half smile. “They’re pretty boring.”

“Try me.”

He shrugged and Y/N sighed. “Is this about the dream you had this morning?”

He shook his head. “Dreams. Every night. For weeks.”

Y/N’s brow crinkled. “Why didn’t you tell me about them sooner?”

“What’s to tell? They’re horrific and confusing.”

Dean felt his fear bubbling up in his chest, acidic and almost painful in its intensity. He couldn’t keep Y/N’s earnest gaze; he took the hand she held against his jaw and squeezed it between his own as he lowered his head and stared at the floor.

“What if we…me, you and Emma, what if we just left?”

Y/N’s voice was incredulous. “What are you talking about?”

He finally looked back at her and he knew his expression was probably desperate, but he couldn’t help it. He was desperate.

“The camp would be fine with Cas in charge. And I’d get him to brand you and Emma and they wouldn’t be able to find us.”

“What are y-? Brand us?” Y/N asked, interrupting her own question.

Dean shook his head dismissively. “Just your ribs. It doesn’t hurt. I mean, not bad anyway. And it keeps them away, keeps them from tracking us.”

“Keeps who away?” Y/N asked, confusion clear on her face and in her voice.

“The angels.” Dean said low and quiet, feeling as though they might be listening in.

Y/N frowned. “Why would you want to hide from angels?”

Dean shook his head. “Look, Cas is an outlier, okay. Most angels are dicks, and some are downright sadistic.”

Y/N’s eyes were round now. “How…how can that be? Aren’t they…I mean I didn’t really go to Sunday School much as a kid, but aren’t angels supposed to be righteous? Aren’t they supposed to protect us?”

Dean scoffed. “In theory. But a lot of them can’t stand humans. And if they’re back now…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“Okay but,” Y/N was obviously still confused, “even if that’s true, why would that make you want to run from the camp?”

He stared at her a long time, debating telling her everything, the danger they were all in if the angels found him, but in the end he just shook his head. Why should she have to carry around this same awful fear?

“No, it was just a stupid idea. I don’t like the angels, so I’m not anxious to see them again, but you’re right. Running is dumb.”

They’d find us somehow anyway. Dean thought to himself.

“Dean,” Y/N began, obviously not convinced by his dismissive answer. But before she could say more, he cut her off with a kiss. It might have started as a distraction, but that purpose immediately fell away as he delved his tongue into her mouth and devoured her. The soft sounds issuing from the back of her throat drove him crazy and suddenly it was as though he couldn’t get close enough.

He pulled away and they were both panting. Y/N’s smile turned mischievous and she dropped her hands from the open sides of his flannel to his belt buckle.

“Emma won't be back for a while. Think I’ve got time to put a smile on your face?” She said as she slid his belt open. But Dean put his hands on hers, halting her.

“No, I wanna…” He trailed off and then stood up abruptly, grabbing Y/N’s wrist and pulling her along behind him. He could feel her confusion and he threw a wink over his shoulder as they left the tent.

“Trust me.”

Y/N’s brow smoothed out and she grinned. “Okay.”

They left the tent and walked east, meeting Johnston along the way. Dean called out to him as they passed, but didn’t really slow down.

“Emma’s over at Monique's. Go tell her to stay there till we come pick her up.”

“Yes sir!” Johnston called back and he ran off to follow the order.

They walked briskly all the way to the garage. If anyone wondered about why the Boss was speeding across the camp with a dangling belt and Y/N in tow, no one stopped them to ask. Dean assumed they could figure it out.

They reached Baby and Dean wrenched open the back door. Y/N’s face was beet red as she looked around surreptitiously and whispered in a scandalized voice.

“Dean it’s the middle of the day, there are people around.”

Dean shrugged. “So?” He paused a beat and then gave a sideways nod towards the door. “Get in.” He watched the fiery heat bloom in Y/N’s red-ringed eyes and his whole body hardened as it always did when he knew she was thinking lustful thoughts.

With a girlish giggle that made his heart happy and hurt in equal measure, Y/N climbed into the back seat. Dean followed her and closed the door behind him. The curtains were all still drawn, so he simply locked the doors before turning to Y/N and immediately capturing her lips again. He gently pushed her down on the leather seat beneath him.

He spread kisses across her chest, and she sighed. “I’m gonna have to try and be quiet.” She whispered.

Dean shook his head and spoke against her skin. “Don’t bother. You won't be.”

She let out a surprised laugh. “Wow, someone’s sure of themselves.”

Dean slid his hand into the waistband of her leggings and pushed aside her panties to slide two fingers through her wet heat and rub them against her clit. Y/N gasped loudly and Dean arched a brow as he watched the pleasure ripple across her face.

“Do you doubt my abilities to make you scream?”

Y/N shook her head back and forth, letting out a keening moan as he pushed his fingers into her body, his jaw clenching at the way her cunt tightened around them.

She reached for his waistband again, trying to open the button on his jeans, but Dean stopped her once again.

“No, I just wanna touch you, just wanna watch you while I stroke you and pleasure you.” He found the spongy spot deep inside her, and swept across it teasingly. Y/N let out a cry of pleasure, clapping a hand over her mouth when she realized that she was indeed failing to be quiet.

He pulled out of her body and raised his fingers to his mouth, sucking her essence from his fingertips. “You’re so fucking delicious, sweetheart.” He put his fingers to her lips, pushing them into her mouth and against her tongue to give her a taste before dragging them down over her chin and the long column of her neck as she arched her back.

He made quick work of stripping her so that she laid beneath him covered only in goosebumps. She reached up to pull off his shirts and he let her, so that she could pet her hands down his torso, and press her nails into his back as he dipped his head to suck on her pulse. He worked his way down her body, letting his tongue explore her, memorize her.

He refused to try and dissect why he had such a thrumming need to burn every inch of her skin into his memory, to learn her sighs and moans like they were lyrics to his favorite song.

In the back of his mind he knew why, but he shied away from the truth. He only wanted to feel her move beneath him, only wanted to taste her, only wanted to concentrate on the way her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she tried to hold in a moan and the way the sound burst out of her anyway when he speared her with his tongue.

He spent the next hour pulling her apart over and over until the sound of his name on her lips was a refrain he knew he’d never be able to forget.

***

A few more days passed and Dean did his best to avoid Y/N’s questioning glances. He didn’t want to talk about the fears that grew stronger inside him every day.

One night as he laid beside Y/N on the small cot, her arm around his waist and her face buried in his chest, he heard rustling outside the tent that sounded like footsteps. It was the middle of the night. There would be no reason for someone to be walking around their tent unless there was some kind of trouble.

He gently disentangled Y/N’s arms from around him and got up, grabbing his gun from just under the cot. As he was leaving he glanced at Emma to make sure she was sleeping peacefully, moving outside the tent when he could see that she was.

He couldn’t see anyone in the immediate area, so he moved stealthily through the tents. Finally he came out into the clear open area between the tents and the spring vegetable plots. He looked towards the big cabin, and couldn’t see anything amiss. Still, something felt off and he decided he’d go talk to the soldiers he had stationed at the southern post for the night.

But before he could move he heard a voice behind him that made his blood run cold.

“Dean! Long time no see!”

He turned slowly, his gun raised, to see the angel Zachariah standing barely six feet away. The angel’s smug round face was exactly the same, same watery gray eyes, same phony smile.

And then Dean realized why everything felt off and strange. He lowered his gun and dropped his arms back to his sides.

“I’m dreaming.”

Zachariah continued to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were cold and calculating, just as they’d always been. “That’s right. Only way I could talk to you. We’ve been away so long.”

He looked around the camp and his lip curled. “Can’t say I was very anxious to come back to this smelly, cold rock.”

“Well,” Dean said, his voice hard and quiet, “don’t let me keep you here.”

Zachariah waved at him. “Oh no, the uh boss man, Michael,” he thumbed towards the sky, “he said the time was right for us to strike, finally. At first I thought he was crazy. I mean, once Sam said the big yes and we lost him as a catalyst to make you say yes, I must admit, most of us just gave up. No apocalypse this go round.”

He shrugged. “Then Lucifer leveled the planet with his little virus and you all became very, very boring. And the prayers! Ugh, god! They were nonstop.”

His voice took on a mocking whine. “‘Oh save us, heavenly hosts.’, ‘Help us god!’, ‘Save us from these monsters!’ It just went on and on!” He shuddered. “It was so loud all the time, so we just had to get away from the whining.”

Dean’s jaw was clenched so tight it was almost painful. He nodded and sneered. “Away from the helpless, dying people that you set up to be killed, you mean?”

Zachariah shrugged. “We tried to tell you that Michael had to be around to fight the adversary. But no, your stubborn independence was more important.”

Dean tried to keep his voice level. “What are you doing here now?”

The angel rolled his eyes. “You’re joking right? Come on Dean, your brother may have been the brains of your little operation, but surely you’re at least smart enough to figure this one out.”

Dean stayed silent, refusing to acknowledge the terror he could feel in the pit of his stomach.

Zachariah sighed deeply. “Come on Dean,” he encouraged, “I’ll help you out. So, if we left because you were so broken and useless when you found out your brother said yes, if we left because we knew we had nothing left to tempt you or force you to say yes…why do you think we’re back now?”

He paused as though he was a teacher waiting for a particularly dull student to answer an easy question.

Dean felt like he might throw up. “You think you can coerce me again now.”

Zachariah shot a finger gun at him. “Bingo! Except we don’t think we can, we know we can.” His voice became cold and lost its fake joviality. “You’ve got things to lose again.”

Dean felt like panic might be choking him and he desperately wanted to wake up and run. He shook his head at the angel superior. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Zachariah rolled his eyes again. “Dean, don’t be ridiculous. We may have been away, but we’ve still been keeping an eye on you. We know all about your little camp of misfit toys, including your pretty, near-monster girlfriend and her pink-cheeked little brat. You care for them, all of them.” He nodded slowly. “We can work with that.”

Dean’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he felt the walls of his nightmares closing in. “You can’t find us. You don’t know where we are, and Cas and I put up as much angel warding as he could take. You won’t locate us.”

Zachariah shrugged. “But you know we will. It’s just a matter of time. Unless you want to save us all some time and just tell me right now?”

Dean’s eyes were blazing with hate as he just stared silently.

“No?” The angel sighed deeply. “Well in that case, I’ll just say, see you real soon.”

Dean came awake slowly, but panic set in quickly.

He jumped out of bed, calling to Y/N. “Sweetheart, get up. Now!”

Y/N rubbed her hand across her eyes and sat up. “Dean. What’s going on?” She asked in extreme confusion.

But Dean didn’t answer her. Instead he was shaking Emma awake. “Get up, baby. Emma!” The little girl grumbled sleepily, but Dean forced her to sit up. “I’m sorry kiddo, but you need to put on really warm pants and a shirt. Dress warm, we might be outside for a while, okay? Your big boots and your scarf too.”

“Dean, stop.” Y/N was standing up now and moved over to grab his arm. “What is this? What?”

Before Dean could answer Cas walked into the still dark tent, bringing a lantern with him. Dean turned to him and Cas’ usually stoic, solemn face showed fear.

“They’re coming.”

Dean closed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, I know. Zachariah came to me in a dream.” He gritted his teeth. “Piece of shit.”

“What’s the plan?” Cas asked.

Dean nodded and answered as he was rushing around, pulling on a flannel over his t-shirt. He’d worn his jeans to bed, so he simply shrugged into his green jacket and started loading up his duffle bag.

“So, we gotta go.” He told Cas. “You need to brand them, so they’re off angel radar too.” He said, rubbing a hand across his ribs. “I figure if we head out within the hour, we might be able to get a decent head start on them.”

Cas was shaking his head as Dean finished. “You can’t just leave the camp. Zachariah will torch the whole thing just to draw you back.”

Dean refused to admit the truth in Cas’ words. “No, that’s…look if I’m not around he’d have nothing to gain from burning the camp. It wouldn’t -”

Cas cut him off. “I told you, he’d burn it to bring you back, or just out of sheer spite and you know it.”

Dean opened his mouth to continue the argument when Y/N’s shout interrupted them.

“Enough. Stop talking right this instant and explain to me exactly what it is that you’re talking about, or I swear I’m going to lose my mind.”

Silence reigned for a few moments as Emma stared up at them all as though she was in the middle of a very vivid and kind of scary dream.

Dean stared into Y/N’s eyes for a moment before he decided she deserved to know the whole truth even if it was messy and painful. He’d just have to try and tell her quickly.

He reached forward to squeeze her hand and then dropped it as he paced around the tent continuing to fill his duffle bag with supplies they’d need.

“You remember me telling you about my brother Sam?” Y/N nodded, but Dean was just barreling on. “Well, I let it seem as though Sam died, but he didn’t, not really.”

Y/N was watching him roam around the room and he glanced at her quickly before continuing. “He’s uh, he’s Lucifer’s vessel. He’s…Lucifer took him over.”

Y/N’s eyes almost bulged out of her head. “Like…the devil? Are you telling me your brother is the devil?”

Dean shook his head and glanced at Emma, but she seemed to be half asleep as she watched them. “No, not really. Lucifer is just using his body, walking around in it. See angels don’t have form on earth, they’re just a bright white light. So, they have to possess a human, a vessel.”

Y/N looked over at Cas. “Wait, this isn’t what you really look like?”

Cas shrugged. “Well, my vessel, Jimmy Novak, his soul is in heaven. His body was exploded into oblivion, by an archangel, which also should have destroyed me. But God brought me back, and fashioned me this vessel. But it’s only me in here now.”

Y/N stared at him, blinking slowly for a moment before tilting her head. “Um…what?”

“Look, that doesn’t matter right now.” Dean said dismissively before continuing with his rapid fire explanation.

“Unlike demons, an angel needs permission to enter a human body, they need the person’s consent. So, at some point, Sam said yes to the devil. I don’t know why. I wasn’t…I wasn’t around when he said yes.”

He looked back at Y/N and he could tell she was desperately trying to take in all he was saying; her voice was contemplative as she spoke.

“Okay, that’s…I’m so sorry, Dean. That must have been horrible for you. But I’m still unclear about why we’re running away. You said the other day you wanted to hide from the angels? Why?”

Dean took in a deep breath, straightening up and finally dropping his duffle bag to the floor before crossing his arms over his chest.

“Because I’m a vessel too.”

Y/N’s eyes grew wide again. “For Lucifer?”

Dean shook his head and resumed his movements, no longer packing, just pacing. “No, for Michael, another archangel. The angels all believed Sam and I were destined to be their vessels on earth, allowing them to fight some epic battle that would bring on the apocalypse.” His voice was harsh with anger.

“When we found out about these supposed destinies, we both swore we wouldn’t do it, that they couldn’t make us. But I…well, I abandoned Sam, so I have no idea what they did to make him say yes. I was hurt and angry, and I truly thought we’d do better apart. So, I left my little brother to deal with the devil by himself.”

He stopped pacing and turned away from Y/N completely. “I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Dean.” Y/N’s voice was soft but he turned back to her and waved away her sympathy.

“None of that is the point though. The point is that they could never get me to say yes, but they were desperate to. And now they’re coming back because…well according to the asshole angel who was just in my dream, I have -” he closed his eyes. “I have something to lose now.”

Y/N’s face was scared, but he could see she was fighting to keep her voice level. “Okay, can I ask, maybe…I mean, if you said yes, then wouldn’t that make you powerful, maybe you could try to fight the devil, maybe you could push him out of your brother. Or maybe, I mean if angels can heal, think of all the good you could do in this sick world with that kind of power.”

Dean was shaking his head. “No, Y/N you don’t understand. If I say yes and Michael takes over, I’ll be…I’ll be gone. I’ll have no power inside my own body. I won’t be able to make any decisions or do anything to change Michael's course. And his only course would be to end Lucifer and end my little brother in the process.”

“And,” Cas interjected, “Archangels rarely leave a vessel alive.”

Dean wished Cas had left out that little tidbit as Y/N’s face became more and more horrified. She took deep steadying breaths as Emma finally climbed out of her cot and walked over to Dean to wrap her arms around his forearm.

“You’re going?” She asked in a sleepy voice. Dean shook his head but before he could answer her they heard a loud scream and Cas stiffened.

“It’s too late. They’re here.”

Dean's stomach clenched so tightly it felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. Within seconds they could smell smoke and hear the crackle of flames. Dean grabbed Emma up in his arms and ran out towards the noise. As they emerged from the tents they could see the big cabin burning in the distance, flames shooting high.

Standing barely ten feet in front of them was Zachariah and four other angels.

As they stood staring at the angels, Johnston and Risa joined them, seeming to understand instinctively that this ominous, incongruous group of men in suits were a bigger problem than the fire.

They all looked to where the campers were gathering and scrambling forward with buckets of water from the rain barrels that sat beside the school and storage shed. They quickly formed an assembly line and began moving the buckets back and forth to the cabin.

But Dean could see they wouldn’t be able to save it. The best they could do was keep the fire from spreading to the surrounding trees.

He looked at Zachariah with hatred dripping from his pores. “Stop this, right now, you son of a bitch.”

Zachariah pretended offense. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. A lightning bolt struck it. Just an unlikely act of God.”

Dean didn’t say anything, but when the angel’s gaze fell on Emma as she clung to Dean’s neck, he turned to Y/N who pulled her daughter away and then set her on the ground behind her. Instantly Johnston, Risa and Cas closed ranks in front of Y/N and Emma.

Zachariah just smiled. “Aw, that’s really adorable.” He looked back at Dean. “But you know the strength I wield. Do you really think your little wall of protectors is gonna stop me?”

Dean’s mind was reeling, terrified and racing for solutions to this utterly inescapable situation.

When he didn’t immediately answer, Zachariah’s face became thunderous. “We are NOT playing this game again, Dean Winchester!” He barked out before snapping his fingers.

Suddenly Johnston fell to his knees, clutching his throat as blood bubbled over his fingers. Y/N and Emma screamed in horror and Risa shouted out a denial as her friend and brother-in-arms fell at her feet. Cas turned, reaching out to touch the soldier to try and heal him, but two angels bolted forward to hold him back.

Dean scrambled to Johnston’s side, across from where Risa knelt. The young soldier was deathly pale as Dean held his head in his hands.

“It’s okay, soldier. You hear me? Stay, stay with us now.” He ordered him, even though he knew he was asking for the impossible. Red blood stained the young soldier’s neck and his shirt as his life's blood spilled into the muddy, wet ground beneath him.

“Eric.” Dean called to him softly as he gripped his shoulder. “Eric.” The young man looked up at him and it was the first time he’d ever looked at Dean without fear or trepidation of some kind in his eyes. A soft smile graced his lips and Dean wished he knew what he was seeing as he closed his eyes and let his last breath rattle from his chest. Risa pressed her forehead to his, crying quietly.

Dean’s gaze was scorchingly hot as he stood back up and looked across at the uncaring monster in front of him.

Zachariah shrugged. “Just a little reminder of how quick I can make everything change.” Again he looked at Emma where she was crying in Y/N’s arms, and raised his arm to snap his fingers again.

“No!” Dean screamed out, leaping in front of Y/N and Emma as though he could possibly save them if that snap came. “Okay, yes! Yes!” He shouted.

His breathing was ragged and tears clogged his throat. “Yes. Please. Please don't hurt them.” He hated that he was begging, but he’d do whatever it took to keep Y/N and Emma breathing and safe.

Zachariah slowly lowered his hand, a smug smile on his sneering face. “Glad negotiations went better this time around. So, let’s call Micheal down shall we?”

Dean held up a hand. “Yes, but just…put out that fire.” He said pointing at the still blazing inferno. Some people seemed to realize that something was happening across the camp, but they were all quite occupied putting out the fire. Zachariah shrugged and nodded and the blaze was suddenly out, black smoke rising from the ruins of the big cabin.

Dean took a deep breath. “And let me…say goodbye to them.”

Zachariah rolled his eyes but waved at him to hurry up. Dean turned to Cas, ignoring the asshole angels who were no longer holding him, but were still close behind. He called Risa over and she finally left her friend’s side to join them. He put a hand on each of their shoulders.

“The camp’s gonna need you both to help get past all of this. I know you won’t let them down.” They nodded and Dean pulled them into a three way hug, before clapping a hand to Cas’ neck. “You take care of Emma and Y/N, you promise?”

Cas nodded. “Yes. I will.” The angel’s bright blue eyes were dull, but his voice was strong and Dean knew he meant it with his whole angelic being.

Finally he turned to Y/N and Emma and his heart lurched at their tear stained faces, both so alike. As he approached them, Emma ran out of Y/N’s arms and he dropped to a knee so he could wrap his arms around her as she launched herself at him.

Her hot tears soaked into his jacket as sobs shuddered through her small frame. “Don’t go.” She whispered brokenly. Dean squeezed her tighter before he pulled her back so he could look at her. He brushed back her always unruly curls from her forehead and kissed her there.

“I gotta go, kiddo. I’m so sorry.”

Emma took big hiccuping breaths as she responded. “Because of the bad man?” She said looking across the clearing at Zachariah.

Dean forced her to look away from the sadistic angel. “Yeah, baby, because of the bad man. But I…” He brushed away her tears from her cheeks. “Need you to know that I’d stay if I could. If I could, I’d never walk away from you. I swear.”

Emma nodded and he prayed she would remember that and be reassured that another father hadn’t just walked away from her.

He tried to smile, but worried she saw through it. He pulled her close again, and spoke quietly. “I love you bigger than big.”

Emma sniffed and spoke into the front of his shirt. “And taller than tall?”

He pulled away and managed a real smile as he cupped her cheeks. “And taller than tall.”

He stood up and took Emma’s hand, ushering her over to Risa who picked her up and rubbed the little girl's back as she sobbed.

He moved towards Y/N, and stared at her for a moment, completely incapable of saying goodbye.

Y/N shook her head, her tears falling fat and fast. She looked slightly shell-shocked by everything that had happened in barely an hour. Her voice was shaky and thick.

“I don’t know what to…” She shook her head again. “This can’t possibly be happening.”

Zachariah’s bored tone cut between them. “Oh, it’s happening. And it better happen faster if we don’t want any more acts of God to occur.”

Dean closed his eyes briefly and then opened them to pull Y/N into his embrace. He lowered his voice so only she could hear, murmuring the words against her temple.

“Don’t think about this. Don’t think about what’s happening. Instead imagine we’re still just lying in bed. I have my arms wrapped tightly around you and we’re both safe. We can hear Emma talking in her sleep across the room. Close your eyes and stay there, in that moment.” He pulled back to lean his forehead against hers. “Visit me there from time to time, okay?”

Y/N was nodding, and her breathing was ragged. But she reached up and kissed him gently. “This isn't goodbye. It can't be. I won’t believe it. So, as far as I’m concerned, we’ll be back there, in that moment soon.”

Dean gave her a tilted smile. “I love you, you know? I should have said it so much sooner, cause it’s been true for a long time.”

Y/N closed her eyes as though she was in pain. Maybe she was, he was; it felt like a ton of bricks was crushing his chest.

But he concentrated on her bright, red-ringed eyes as she spoke. “I love you too. So much.” Y/N’s tight smile crumpled and she fell back into his arms sobbing.

As Dean crushed her against him one last time, he could hear Zachariah groan in frustration and then begin chanting words in Enochian. The atmosphere began to change around them as the earth rumbled. Dean felt himself being pulled out of Y/N’s arms as Zachariah’s patience ran out and he yanked him away.

“Don’t look at the light!” Dean called to Y/N as a blinding white light enveloped them all. He heard a kind of whispering in his mind, it wasn’t exactly words, but he understood it. It was a question.

He looked back at Y/N and Emma and gave the only answer that would keep them safe.

“Yes.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

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Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

#dean winchester #endverse!dean #endverse!dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester angst #endverse!dean fan fic series #dean winchester fan fic series #endverse

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girls-alias · 9 months

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Diner - Dean Winchester

Title: Diner - Dean Winchester Words: 1,622 Relations: Dean Winchester X reader. TW:

Prompt:

Dean watching you work at your diner and he smiles every time you look at him.

I adjusted my hair in the mirror as my hair sat beneath my work cap. I smiled at my reflection before leaving the work bathroom. I work in a diner that was famous years ago for something mediocre but folks around here are sentimental and think that makes us famous forever. We're quite a big diner but it's all about the atmosphere and we have an abundance of that. Everyone is pleasant and good to work with, no one argues, and no one sexually harasses you but the best part about working at Dino's Diner is all the different people you meet going about their travels.

Today seemed like any other day. I walked through the kitchen with a bright smile on my face. "Hey, guys," I called through to the kitchen staff who greeted me before continuing their conversation. I walked to the main computer and clocked in before tying my apron and greeting the manager.

"You know the drill. You're on the left side," He informed me with a smile making me laugh. It's all routine. The same thing every day but I like the repetition. It's predictable. The day was going by, as usual, greeting, seating, serving and parting but the day was soon changed when my fellow waitress, Trish, approached me behind the bar with a wide smile.

"What you smiling about?" I asked suspiciously looking her over.

"You've caught someone's attention," She commented with a smirk. My eyebrows knitted together in confusion, she chuckled as she gestured with her eyes over her tables. I gave them a glance over to see that I made eye contact with an extremely attractive man. He had a pen to his lips and instantly smiled. I smiled back to be polite and played it cool. Not that I was very good at that. I looked to Trish who smirked and pretended to do work while she stood beside me. "I've been trying to get his attention for hours and you walk in and have it in seconds." She commented making me roll my eyes. "You're hot and ignore it, why?" She added making me laugh.

"You only say that because you know me." I chuckled. Everyone always says I am a funny and reliable friend. I would drop anything for someone I love.

"Well, that guy doesn't seem to think so," She mocked making me laugh. I shook my head and walked away. I kept myself busy by working but found myself wondering about the guy. I kept checking over. Sometimes he was copying something from a book, other times he was watching me but every time my eyes met his he did the most amazing smile. A smile I knew I wanted. I began thinking of who he might be. Copying from a book suggested a student but he didn't look like one. I stood behind the bar sorting out some cutlery pots when Trish hurried towards me.

"I really need the bathroom can you take the bill to table 13?" She asked in a hurry practically just running past me. I didn't even have time to agree before she disappeared through the staff doors. I laughed and grabbed the bill for 13. The table was just behind the attractive man's table so went around him hoping to get a closer look. Yep, definitely the most handsome man I've ever seen. Table 13 gave me their payment and I waved them out of the door. As I was about to walk back to the bar I saw the man looking around, probably looking for me. I smiled. He doesn't know I'm behind him.

"Looking for something?" I asked walking into his line of sight. He didn't seem to get a fright but looked up at me with a wide smile.

"Yeah, I'm looking for the courage to ask for your number," He replied, pretty smoothly I might add. I thought about it. I know for a fact he's going to leave here with it but better play a little hard to get. He has the kind of eyes that could get me naked in seconds but he's not allowed to know that. Well, not yet.

"Hundreds of men come in here a day and some ask that same question, why should I say yes to you?" I asked with a smile.

"Because I'm adorable," He commented pulling a face like I was blind making me laugh.

"But if you know you're adorable then how do I know you're not the sleeping around kind of guy?" I asked with a soft smile. His smile grew at the challenge.

"I guess you'll just have to take a chance," He replied softly. I smiled at his answer.

"I'm Y/N" I added putting my hand out for him to shake.

"Dean," He shook my hand and smirked. I couldn't help but smile. I got my order pad out and wrote down my number and showed it to him. He went to grab it but I smirked as I pulled it away.

"You have to earn it," I shrugged as I placed the paper in my back pocket and walked away with a smirk. Admittedly shaking my hips slightly as I walked and continued to work. Trish was just leaving the staff room when I made it to the bar. We exchanged a smile.

"Table 13's tip," I explained as I handed her the change and walked away. I finished up sorting out the cutlery pots and found that Dean hadn't stopped smiling but whenever we made eye contact he smiled a kind of goofy and teeth-baring smile like he couldn't hold it back. I couldn't help but do the same. I tried not to make eye contact with him and as the night progressed I was getting better at stealing glances without him noticing.

"See you later, Y/N," Trish called with her coat and bag on. Dean and Carl, A regular trucker, were the only ones left inside.

"Oh, you finished?" I asked but it was obvious. I could feel Dean's eyes on me.

"Yeah, Management's letting me go home early, you can hold the fort for half an hour?" She questioned making me smile.

"Yeah, no problem. Have a good night, have some wine for me," I commented making her laugh.

"I sure will, and talk to that guy," She replied making me laugh. "Night," She called back as she began to exit making sure to suggestively say goodbye to Dean. Dean's eyes never left mine as she walked by, Trish was disappointed so once she was behind him she pretended to have a tantrum making me laugh. Dean was curious as to what I was laughing at and so turned around. Trish stopped but he had caught her, she chuckled nervously before leaving making me laugh harder. I tried covering my laughter but struggled and it took a while for me to compose myself. I finished cleaning up all the tables before realising I had no other work to do so walked over and took a seat in front of Dean. He instantly put his pen down and gave me his full attention.

"So, you've officially been here for 7 hours, I think it's a record," I commented making him chuckle.

"What can I say? I like the atmosphere, the people, the view and the coffee," He replied making me laugh.

"What are you writing?" I asked looking over the books in front of him.

"A book... about monsters," He answered pessimistically. My eyebrows knitted together a little. "It's about a guy who has to hunt monsters and demons to keep a pretty waitress' like you alive," He added making me laugh.

"Oh, yeah? What happens in the end?" I asked with a smile staring deep into his eyes. He chuckles.

"Haven't written that part yet," He replied smoothly. I couldn't help but smile. I nodded slightly as I leaned forward pulling my number out of my pocket. Dean was smiling from ear to ear as I placed the paper on the table and slid it towards him. He looked at me like I had handed him billions of dollars.

"You'll have to let me know how the book ends," I shrugged making him chuckle. He bit his lip as he nodded. "Don't lose it," I joked making him laugh. He picked the paper up and put it in his front pocket.

"I wouldn't dream of it," He added making me smile a little wider. He seems goofy. The bell above the door grabbed my attention showing new customers. Two truckers would often come in.

"Hey, guys, take a seat I'll be over in a minute," I instructed as I stood up and started tucking my chair in. "Since you have my number and your coffee mug is full can I get you anything else?" I asked sweetly, his smile never fading.

"Don't suppose you have apple pie?" He asked sounding a little disheartened.

"We do actually, it's just not on the menu," I replied making him smile but also look confused.

"Any reason?" He asked.

"Well, I make the apple pies from scratch and I can't make enough for the whole restaurant so it's reserved for the kind of regulars," I explained making his eyes widen.

"You bake apple pies... You're marriage material," He commented making me laugh.

"One apple pie coming up," I announced making him laugh again.

"Ooh, make that three," A trucker added making me chuckle as I nodded and walked to the kitchen. I returned with their pies and as I placed Dean's in front of him he spoke.

"Go out with me," He said sounding sheepishly dominant. I smiled and nodded.

"I finish in 10 minutes,"

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