#Tlovescoffee

[1000roughdrafts]

The (almost) Perfect Crime: Chapter Three

Warnings: language, alcoholism, violence (kind of) and threats of violence

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: This one is Dean’s POV, and as a reminder, this is an AU where Dean and Sam are not brothers, not related and don’t even really know each other that well. This was supposed to come out earlier today but I had a weird day and didn't schedule it I'm sorry

Masterlist

Chapter Two

Detective Dean Campbell parked his personal vehicle on the street a block down from the Golden Egg, just barely concealed behind a deteriorating fence. He glanced at his watch to note the time his subject entered the bar, and slouched back in the seat. He poured the remainder of his coffee into his mouth, scrunching his face as the undissolved sugar grates its way down his throat among the now cold brew. Clearing his throat, he glanced at his watch again, and then at the street as people came and went.

God, you stick out like a sore thumb, Dean, he thinks, sinking into the seat a little more. Figuring he had a little time before that scum of a man came back out anyway, he could use the distraction of flipping through the file he kept locked away until he was off the company dime.

The other detectives were sure he was off his rocker just for mentioning a distaste for Portland’s favorite lawyer, Sam Winchester. But those same assholes were on board when his hunch proved true about the judge that was accepting bribes. It wasn’t as high profile as a case like Sam’s would be, but damn, it really showed Dean that he just can’t trust anyone.

He’d been given an ultimatum by the director; he could either stand down, or step down. Except Dean’s never been one to let someone stand in the way of what’s right, no matter who they are or what power they hold. His investigation was just going to have to stay a secret until he’d gathered enough evidence to sway the DA into pursuing a case.

“Fuck,” he growled, slamming a hand on the steering wheel. His eyes were going cross-eyed combing through the same papers over and over as they looked for something, anything that would just jump out and help him solve this. He needed a break, badly, but anytime he took his eyes off the pictures and documents he could still see them like they were imprinted on the back of his eyelids.

A knock at the window startled him into dropping the papers into his lap. Looking through the window was Sam with a smug smile.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Dean said, forcing all of his strength into opening the door to slam it against Sam.

Lazily holding his hands in the air, Sam laughed. “Easy officer,” he said. Pointing at the Impala with a tilted head, he added, “you tailing me now, Campbell?” With a cocked head.

Dean rolled his eyes and stepped out, “the world doesn’t revolve around you, Winchester. I thought I’d stop by for a drink,” he said with a poised smile.

“Really?” Sam scoffed, “kind of looks like you’ve been following me,” he said. Making a pouting face, he said, “you’re a cop, Dean-o, don’t embarrass yourself like this.”

“Detective,” he clarified, “and I’m off duty… as I said, getting a drink.”

Sam nodded his head with the words, “which makes what you’re doing a crime, detective,” he chuckled, “you realize that right?” He looked around at the now nearly vacant street, “out in the open and all.” His laugh deepened as he turned to walk away, but after a few steps, he turned to face Dean. “You know, I could teach you a thing or two about staying hidden,” he smirked, “off the record, I swear,” he said, palms held up with a smug grin.

It took nearly everything in Dean not to hit him right then. He clenched his teeth and spoke through them, “over my dead body, Winchester.”

Sam tilted his head and tsked, “now, careful what you wish for, Dean-o,” he said, turning again to walk away.

“Your girlfriend know what you’re really up to when you’re ‘working’?” Dean called out.

Whirling around, Sam glanced at the bar and then back at Dean through squinted eyes before marching towards him.

“That wouldn’t be a threat, now, would it?” He said through his teeth while jabbing a finger into Dean’s chest.

Dean held his head high, and shrugged. “I know that I would never hurt her,” he said, then sucked air in through his teeth, “but could the same be said for you?” He let the air out and shook his head, “well, I’m sure we’ll all just be a lot happier when you’re behind bars,” he said, and in a harsher tone, added, “where you belong.”

Sam laughed, mocking Dean, “you can’t even get one detective on your side, let alone the DA, but yeah, go ahead and try your luck. See what happens.”

Dean rolled his eyes and let Sam walk away. He was nearly shaking with anger from just the thought of yet another day where Sam walks free, but if he wanted to get anywhere in his investigation, he’d need to get some sleep and grub.

—

The last thing Dean expected was to see Y/N sitting at a table on the balcony of the Golden Egg. He sat in a booth near the doors to eat and could see her through the glass with a woman he didn’t recognize. Y/N’s hair was tied up and for a lot of the conversation, which he wasn’t able to hear, she had her eyebrows raised and she sat very close to the table. Her drink was almost untouched and her leg was bouncing rapidly.

It felt weird for him to be so close to her, especially after the interaction he’d just had with her boyfriend. He ate his burger quickly as he snuck glances at her. If it weren’t for her long sleeves, and pants he’d have scanned her skin for bruises or marks.

Pulling cash from his wallet, he chugged the drink as he stood up. He threw the cash onto the table as he set the glass down and looked at Y/N one last time before turning to leave.

As he walked out, he wondered what side Sam showed her. It was hard to imagine that Sam treated her well. As he’d been tracking him for a while, he was well aware that they’d been together for the better part of three years. Hell, they even live together, and he hoped for Y/N’s sake that Sam was a good actor, because he knew that Y/N didn’t deserve to be with a guy like him. Hell, no one deserved that.

He thought about her the entire way home. The idea that she was so close to danger while being none the wiser really worked his nerves. He decided at that moment that nothing would get in the way of him building a case against Sam.

Pulling the Impala into the parking lot of his apartment complex, Dean wondered if sleep would escape him again like it had been for months. He jogged to his apartment and went straight for the beer in his fridge. His shoes came off only second to popping the top off and taking a sip of his sleep aid. It had become part of his routine; work on the clock for ten hours, then off the clock for anywhere from five to seven hours, drink a few or maybe several beers, and sleep (or try to sleep) for four hours, and that was if he was lucky.

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That night, luck wasn’t on his side as he would get about two and a half hours, spending most of it tossing and turning.

Chapter Four

Dean <3 @akshi8278 @squirrelnotsam @laxe-from-outer-space @ellewritesfix05 @lyarr24 @mrspeacem1nusone @idksupernaturl @fandom-princess-forevermore @stoneyggirl

Sam <3 @fangirlxwritesx67 @immafangirlmess

The Almost Perfect Crime <3 @princessmisery666 @momowinchester @sizekinkshawty @deandreamernp

*Names in bold have not been tagging for a while, if you see your url please let me know if I need to fix it :D*

Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know via a comment, like or reblog if you’re enjoying this so far! Feedback really helps to motivate me in writing more, good or constructive <3

[swiftlymoniquesblog]

Crossing Parallel Lines- Sam Winchester x Reader: Chapter 10

Warnings: Fluff, bragging, bit of angst, sadness, missing someone

A/N: Hi friends! I am so sorry I haven’t written anything in SO LONG! I’ve been super busy, especially with this virus, being essential was DRAINING! Luckily for y’all, I’ve gone on a leave of absence from work so this means I’ll be updating and creating a LOT more!

As always, any feedback is always welcome!

Previous chapter | Masterlist

-Monique

Reader’s POV

I woke up from the deepest sleep I’ve ever had in my life but between blurry eyes, I didn’t recognize my surroundings? Where am I? I thought to myself as I slowly began to see better, wiping away the sleep leftover on my eyes. Wait, this is MY room; I’m back in MY universe! How did this happen? One minute I was with Sam, the next I end up here, my world, my time, my house, my room. What the hell happened last night? You quickly grab your phone from your bedside table and dial the first person you could think of calling.

“Hello?” It had been so long since you heard her voice, you thought you had the wrong number.

“Y/N?” She asks from the other end, prompting you to continue.

“H-hey Callie.” You spoke, unsure of how she was going to react. It had been seven months since you were in this world, but she was your best friend. 

“Oh my God, you’re alive.” She said, sighing overly dramatically.

“Yeah, I’ve been in the other world with the Winchesters and Castiel.” 

“I still can’t believe that stupid spell you said from that lore book worked!” Callie said as she entered your room after you had invited her over to explain everything to her in person.

“Neither can I.” You admit, sitting crisscross on your bed.

“So, what happened? Did you go on any hunts? Did you get along with the guys? Were they nice to you?”

“Yes, Callie, they were. No, they wouldn’t let me go on any hunts after they found me.”

“YOU GOT HURT?!” Callie yelled, looking at you to see if you were currently hurt.

“Yeah, when I landed in their world, I hit my head pretty hard. I was bleeding too but those guys are surprisingly good at stitching.” You joke, but Callie just stared at you.

“Look, I’m fine, but let me tell you the really interesting thing that happened to me. I uh, kinda have a boyfriend.” You said, as casual as you could.

“YOU WHAT?! WHO?!” Callie yelled.

“Sam.”

“YOU AND SAM?!” 

“Okay, you gotta stop yelling, but yes, me and Sam. We have a thing going.” 

“Oh my God, you and the Moose. Are you guys serious?” 

“I mean you don’t tell someone you love them unless you’re serious.” You admit, turning away from Callie’s excited face, trying to hide the blush on your cheeks.

“Oh, my Chuck, you’re in love. Does he know? Does he feel the same?”

“I mean he said he did but then I ended up here.”

“Wait, what?”

“Well, that’s the thing. I don’t know how I got here.”

“What do you remember?”

“I remember coming up with a way for me to cross between both my universe and Sam’s and I remember crying a lot and then I fell asleep and woke up here.” 

“Hang on, what’s that?” Callie said, pointing to your bag you were wearing, that was now hanging over a chair that sat by the window.

A letter was sticking out from the bag, another thing you don’t remember. Standing to grab the letter, it had your name written on the front. Opening it, you read aloud: 

My Dearest Y/N,

I am so sorry we had to do this but it was better for you to wake up in your home than with us and say goodbye. The rules for the spell are you have to wait a whole month until you can come back and when you do, it’s for a whole week. I know, it’s not a lot of time but I figured, it was better to have you for a time than not at all. It’s not fair and I wish to everything we can change the rules and you can be with me all the time but, my love, this is the cards we’ve been dealt and I cannot change our fate.

I want you to always think of me until we see each other again and count down the days as I will. You are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me and I am truly a better man because of you. You light up a room when you walk into it, your laugh is like music to my ears and when I hold you and you wrap your tiny arms around me, everything feels okay. You make everything okay, even when it looks bleak. You are my world and when you are gone, a huge part of me will be with you. 

I love you with every part of my entire heart. Every inch of me longs to have you back in my arms; all six feet, four inches of me. I love you, baby.

Yours forever,

Sam W.

“Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry,” Callie said, pulling you in for a hug. 

“It’s okay, I was just never told how to get back there. All he said was I would have to wait a month until I can see him again.”

You stand up to grab your phone and find a note attached to it, too. 

Y/N, 

I’m glad you found this note. Believe it or not, Rowena found a way for us to communicate via our phones even if we’re in different universes. So, when you find this note, give me a call. I miss the sound of your voice. I love you, babe. 

Sam

You immediately scroll to find his number on your phone and hit the green phone icon. It rang only twice before the soft yet manly voice of Sam filled your eyes.

“Hi, baby girl.” He answered and instantly, you broke down into tears. 

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s the matter?” He asked, concern instantly lacing his voice. 

“I-I m-m-miss y-you.” You say, sobbing harder now.

“Oh, my sweet girl, I miss you too.” 

Callie had grabbed your phone as it slipped away from your ear and put it on speaker. 

“Hi Sam, I’m Callie, I’m y/n’s best friend. She just dropped her phone and she’s still really upset, so I’ll hold the phone and you can just talk. You’re on speaker.”

“Hey, thanks, Callie. Y/N, baby, listen to me. You’re okay, we’ll see each other again soon. I love you so much but I had to do this. This was so much better than saying goodbye to you here. You know how much harder this was going to be if we did this face to face and I thought this was going to be easier. It’s not. It’s just as hard. I miss you so much. Nothing is the same since you left and I’m so sorry I pushed you back home. I thought it was better for you to be home but I didn’t realize just how desperate I would be to have you with me right now. God, if I could, I would be with you right now, to hold you, to kiss you, to make love to you like I wanted to do so much, but we can’t right now. But soon my love, we will be back together, and we will do all the things we wanted to. I promise you; we will do it all, together.” 

“Okay.” You sniff and hold the phone to your ear again. 

“Wow, you guys are in love. And he wants to make love to you?” Callie joked, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Oh, shut up.” You say, whacking Callie with a pillow.

As Sam continued to tell you all the wonderful things, he had planned for you when the two of you were going to be reunited, you slowly fell asleep to sound of his voice. Of the man who held your heart and you had his heart. 

Tag list: @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams​ @simpleb00x​ @tlovescoffee​ @juju-la-tortue​ @marvelfansworld​

[1000roughdrafts]

Baby Winchester 2021

A/N: gift fic for @rileynicole1967. Merry Christmas! Thank you for being such a huge supporter, and for all of your kind words. I hope you like it. I dont have a laptop anymore so this is posted from my phone, hope the format is alright.

Summary: Reader finds out she's pregnant, and tells Dean in a cute way.

Warnings: fluff, puking, pregnancy, mention of sex, a tiny bit of angst but youd have to really watch for it.

W/C: 1.5k

This is also kind of a fix it fic for the season finale but I warped the time to be close to Christmas.

Excusing yourself from Thanksgiving dinner, after taking a bite of a meal your boyfriend spent hours to prepare, almost made you feel as horrible as the realization that the spontaneous sickness was accompanied by an AWOL period.

You let it slide, blaming the uneasy feeling on those intrusive thoughts, the worries that slip in and mix with hopes, turning into an anxious dream. A dream that involved having a family with Dean.

While you never had that whole marriage and kids conversation with him, you know that somewhere deep inside of him is a craving to nurture and care for a child of his own.

The way he talked about his past with Lisa and Ben was one giveaway, but when the two of you had sex he was careless, and so were you. One of you would courteously offer up the use of a condom, while the other would hear the suggestion with one ear, muttering an "oh, yeah, we probably should," between kisses, but the intention was already lost on the both of you. 

It was like under the surface of "we can't have a kid, we're hunters,"there was a shared hope that maybe it would just happen, and it would become part of the challenges you take on in day to day life. Wouldn't really even be much of a challenge, other than keeping the kid safe, but what safer of a place than a bunker?

You'd be lying if you said you hadn't considered the thought, even if just for a daydream. It was a scary thought, raising a baby in this world, let alone in your world, but regardless, you wanted it. 

Five days from Christmas, another period hadn't come. Sitting on the toilet you cover your eyes with your hands, pressing a bit deeper than you should, hardly able to control the bounce in your leg. On the floor in front of you is a pregnancy test, your heart racing too fast for you to watch it as it decides your future. 

The confliction you feel is enough on its own. The one hand, excitement, the other, fear; a hope for both positive and negative to show up on that little stick. 

Thinking back on the symptoms you'd read online they all seemed to line up with normal PMS symptoms. Your breasts were sore and heavy, but you've never examined them enough to know if they're really changing. You've been nauseous, even puking, but often that's not outside of PMS either. The only thing that really screamed 'pregnant' was your two missed periods… until you open your eyes to a test with two pink lines. 

With shaky hands you bend forward to pick it up, feeling like every sense has been numbed and magnified at once, like your eyes are playing tricks on you. Your body throws out a nervous chuckle, re-reading the test like you're studying for a final before allowing yourself to actually smile. Panic and excitement fills you but you ride out the high, allowing it to consume you for a moment before planning your next move. 

Slipping the test in your bra between your breasts, you throw the box it came in into an empty metal trash bin, setting it on fire to hide the evidence. Dean will find out eventually, but it has to be perfect. 

You already had a world of ideas on how to tell him, and with Christmas just days away, the perfect time. You drive to the craft store to see what you could put together. 

Walking down the aisle you turn to another and see blank christmas ornaments to decorate. Something inside of you screams, thousands of images popping into your head of what you could do with some paint and an ornament. Grabbing a present shaped ornament you head over to the paint section. You pick up a couple small gift bags and stuffing paper. 

Leaving the bag in your car, you walk through the door to see the boys are decorating the bunker with random strings of light and tinsel. 

"Looks great," you smile "now all we need is a tree." 

"Well now that you're home we can go get one," Dean smiles, walking over to kiss you on the cheek. 

You drove to all of the lots in Lebanon, all of which sold out of their best trees and left with the charlie brown's. Both Sam and Dean turned to you at each one with questions in their eyes, and you'd just shake your head. There's no way you'd let a three foot tree sit in a building as beautiful as the bunker. You'd find the perfect one, it just needed to take some time. That's when Dean suggested a different place. 

He drove the three of you to a secluded woods, opening the trunk for a saw. 

With wide eyes and a hidden smile, you jump out, Sam following. 

"You're gonna cut one down?" you laugh. 

Dean shrugs, lifting the saw to examine it. Smiling, he looks at Sam, "give me a hand with this will you?" he says, nodding to the other saw that sits in the trunk. 

While the boys decorated the tree, you found it the perfect opportunity to sneak away and decorate your ornament. You slip into your car for the bag and run to a room you could lock, starting right away.

On Christmas morning, Dean woke you with a warm homemade peppermint mocha. The things that man could do in the kitchen made your head spin, or maybe it was the little life growing inside of you that made you so dizzy. 

You hurriedly set the coffee on the nightstand and run to the bathroom, puking up the sweet, peppermint dream in moments. 

Dean is quick to your side, kneeling down with his hand on your back, rubbing comforting circles. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, and you can only nod. "Was it too much peppermint?"

You shake your head with a chuckle, wiping your lips with toilet paper before spitting into the toilet and flushing it all away. 

"No, the coffee is great," you smile, turning to rinse your mouth out and brush your teeth, "I just don't think I ate enough yesterday," you say, mouth full of toothpaste but knowing it will be the last lie you have to tell him about the showing symptoms. 

You walk out and accompany them as Sam pulls a gift from the tree and hands it to Dean. Dean smiles as you go to sit next to him. 

"Oh!" you say with your best attempt at faking surprise, "I forgot an ornament" you say, barely able to conceal your smile. 

You pull it from your pocket and hand it to Dean, stifling a giggle. 

He smiles, "sure thing," he says, reaching for it. 

It takes him a few steps to look at it, but even with his back turned to you you know when he reads it. He freezes, staring down at the golden letters that read: Baby Winchester 2021. 

"What?" he says, whipping around to face you, and you just smile. Sam is alert, looking up from his phone as if Dean's voice startled him into the moment. Dean's face is tense, but he relaxes it to a smile, "what?"he says again, more excitedly, "are you serious?" he says in a laugh. 

Sam stands and walks to Dean's side, reading the ornament over his shoulder, "no way!" he smiles. 

You laugh, standing to grab the gift bag from under the tree with the test in it. 

"I'm serious," you say, giving him the little gift bag. 

Dean pulls the test out, Sam still at his side and when he looks at those little pink lines his face flushes, tears in the corners of his eyes threaten to come down. Sam is quick to run to you, wrapping you in a bear hug, saying congratulations before both of you have your arms wrapped around Dean. 

There's silence for a moment, and you know what it means just by looking in their eyes. In their minds, just last week they were fighting mime vampires, the hunt almost getting away with Dean's life had he not missed the nail in the wall and fell backwards instead, and this week, they're expecting a baby. A baby in a world with vampires, and ghosts, and creatures that want you all dead. 

You break the silence, "I know," you say almost somberly. 

"What are we gonna do?" Dean asks, fear in his voice. 

"We're gonna do what we always do. We're gonna keep fighting, but now, we'll be fighting for this little guy," you say, hand around your stomach. 

Dean wipes the tear from his eye before it can hit his cheek and wraps his arms around you in a hug, Sam joining in shortly after in an embrace you wish you could stay in forever. 

Sure, it's going to be difficult raising a baby in a hunter family, but with these two goons by your side, you wouldn't have it anyway else. 

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[1000roughdrafts]

Promise Me This Is Forever

A/N: this is for@allywritesblog and #allyswriting event, and im using the quote "promise me this is forever" :) happy birthday 🎂

Word Count: 400 short, and not so sweet

Warnings: angst, character death

Dean Winchester x Reader

This was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives, but all it serves now is a reminder that another person Dean let in, that he loved, is gone. She was taken away too soon, and so brutally, by the devastating hands of what should have been a mundane hunt. He knew better than to get cocky, and what did it cost him now? The life of the one he loved more than anything.

He thinks back to the day he proposed to her; when he threw caution to the wind, and thought 'chances be damned, I love this woman and I can't let her go another minute without knowing just how much'.

Every anniversary of their would-have-been wedding, Dean sits in a nearly empty bar, beer practically suctioned to his lips, and drowns himself in memories of her. He'd always thought the game of life to be cruel, but so cruel as to take the most forgiving, kind and beautiful woman out so soon? Why had it not been him? he often wonders.

Her words ring in his mind time and time again. Words she'd spoken the day he proposed. "If you promise me this is forever", she said and he can still hear her giggle at the end of it, and see the way her eyes crinkled in her smile, "I'll say yes to you, Winchester."

How cruel and naive he had been to think he could give her a happily ever after, to think that what is out there would let him be happy, would let her be happy?

She died in his arms, and he will never forget the way her last breath smelt. Nor would he forget the way her eyes went blank and it haunts his dreams. Her last words taunt him in moments where he's surrounded by nothing but silence, yet he barricades himself in the silence just to hear her voice.

"Promise me this is forever, Dean," she'd gasped out, and in her airy, weak words was a request. Her finger traced his lips weakly when he frowned in confusion, "I don't want you to bring me back, Dean." She swallowed, followed by a shallow breath, "please."

All he could do for a short moment was nod. He opened his mouth to protest, but by then it was too late.

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Dean's Queens <3

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[1000roughdrafts]

Size Matters

DeanxReader request from anon, where reader has a size kink

Warnings/18+: oral (male receiving), vaginal penetration, size kink, mobile post (I will fix if read more doesn't work)

A/N: I think this was the last request and then I'll get out some more original stuff. I believe I owe an update to those of you following. Things have been really crazy. I'll make a separate post about this, though. For now, enjoy 😉

Word Count: 1200~

Having known Dean for over half of your life, you've grown to be great friends; more than friends even. There were moments in your late adolescence and early adulthood that the two of you fooled around, but while the moments were fleeting, the attraction was not.

Years later, having been reunited by a vampire hunt, your wonder of what it would be like to have him inside of you struck anew. You know he wonders the same by the way he sneaks glances at you, his eyes trailing up and down your body, and the words he whispers when no one else is around.

Sam's lecture on vampires is drowned out by your thoughts and the blood rushing through you as you watch Dean's knife flip around in his large hands. He continues flipping it around between his fingers all while his eyes never leave you. You're tempted to call out a flirty 'what?' his way, but settle on playing his game and aiming to beat him at it, sucking on your pencil every time his eyes meet yours.

"When are you finally gonna let me feel how tight you are?" he'd whispered into your ear the night before, and it's the only thing running through your mind as Sam drones on about the hunt. You feel your face getting hot just thinking of it.

You wanted nothing more than to let him fill you up, but its as terrifying as it is exciting to think about him in that way because what if it doesn't live up to your expectations? You've had years to fantasize about all the ways he could have you, and you're worried actually doing it could pop a metaphorical bubble.

There's no way he could be bad at it though, you think in an attempt to talk yourself back into it. The two of you had been planning this from the moment you knew you'd be working together again.

A shuffle of papers pulls you back into the bunker and you realize you're alone with Dean. Your eyes, with their own agenda, drop to the buldge of his pants, exciting you at the thought of how big he must be by now.

His boots click against the floor as he walks to stand next to you, his head dropping to your ear.

"Wanna sneak away for a bit?" he whispers, and all you can manage is a smile and nod. He straightens out his back and extends his hand to help you from your chair.

He guides you to his room, locking the door behind you. He gestures for you to sit on the bed, and while you do, he turns the radio on. When he sits next to you, his hand drops to your leg and all you can think about is how much space it takes up there.

A spark of confidence hits you, and before you can betray yourself, you're having him remove his jeans on your knees in front of him. You wiggle his cock from his boxers and drool at the sight of him.

Starting with a kiss on its head, you lick down the shaft and moan when he does as you do your best to fill your mouth with him. This is the part you're comfortable with, the part you love: feeling how your mouth is not quite large enough to fit all of him, and bringing your hand to the base of his dick.

His hand rests on the back of your head, tugging gently on your hair in praise, moans slipping from his lips.

"Fuck, you're huge," you mumble, and his hips jerk against you in response. He pulls you off of him and your shirt off of you in one fluid motion, taking a short moment thereafter to admire you.

"Get up here," he commands, pointing to the bed. You remove your pants and do as he says. "How do you want me?" he asks, stripping his shirt.

"On top," you say assuredly, and sheepishly add, "so I can watch as you enter me."

"Fuck, that's so hot," he says with a short shake of his head. Laying on your back, you spread your legs open, and as he centers himself over you, he pulls a pillow and props it underneath your back.

He allows you a moment to adjust and you use it to admire his size, preparing yourself for what's to come. You can feel just how wet you already are, but as if to prove that he can turn you on even more, he slides his finger along your entrance and then inside, sucking in a sharp breath.

He lines himself up, and enters slowly, eyes you as you watch him fill you. You can't help but to let out a mixture between a squeak and a gasp as he bottoms out, your head rocking back against the pillow.

His hands are pressed against the mattress on either side of you, and as he pulls back out you grip onto his arms. Your instinctual reaction to the rush of satisfaction is to close your eyes, but you force yourself to keep them open to watch as he slides in and out of you.

As his pace quickens, your grip on his arms loosen, and you feel your walls tighten around him, weakening him.

"You're so wet for me," he whispers as he fills you up, and this time his thrusts stop, allowing you to move against him in the way you want to.

"Cause I love how big you are," you say in a breath, wiggling your hips to feel as much of him as you can.

He lifts a hand to place a thumb on your clit, rubbing slowly at first as you do the thrusting, but speeds up as his thrusts do.

As much as you want to watch, you throw your head back in ecstasy, the combination sending you over the edge. His thrusts increase and you feel his dick throb inside of you for a short moment before he pulls out. His hand is quick to fill in, pumping it slowly as he finishes on your stomach.

"Wow," you utter. "I wish we would've done that a lot sooner," you say with a laugh.

He chuckles, "me too," and moves to grab a towel to wipe your stomach. "Guess that means you'll just have to stick around," he smiles, tossing the towel in a laundry basket.

"Guess so," you smile, moving the pillow under your head and turning to get one last look at him before his clothes come back on and work begins.

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[1000roughdrafts]

Cat-astrophe

Written for @spnfanficpond​‘s unfic challenge with the prompt “I may have accidentally sort of adopted 5 cats.”

Warnings: fluff, stern!Dean,

Word Count: 1K

A/N: I hope this counts as “accidentally” adopting 5 cats lol ALSO this is an AU!Dean X Reader.

Curled up under a blanket on the floor of your bathroom, you stroke one of the five kittens on the head. “Good girl,” you coo, smiling at the little grey kitten. You giggle when her brother nudges his head into your hand for a pet, pushing his little sister out of the way.

She retaliates by pouncing on him, and they roll in a tussle while the three others nap away in a little fluffy circle. Dean will have a cow you think. One of the kittens clumsily climbs onto your lap, curling up in a little ball, her body shaking with her purrs.

“He’ll come around, cuddle bug,” you smile at the little kitten.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but caring for five kittens all day has exhausted you, and the firm pounding on the door startles you awake. “Hm?” you hum, slowly opening your eyes to see that two of the other kittens have joined their sister in your lap.

Sliding the blanket off of you, you’re careful to keep them asleep and in place as you wiggle to stand.

“Y/N!” Dean panics, pounding on the door again.

You quickly open it just enough to push your way out, closing it behind you with your finger to your lips.

“Jesus, Y/N, I’ve been calling your name for ten minutes. I was about ready to burst through the door,” he says in a breath, “the hell are you doing in there?”

You trace your palm with your finger, keeping your eyes on your hand until he lets out a hum. Looking up at him, you pull your hands to your sides, “I was sleeping,” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheeks to keep from smiling.

“What?” he says with a shake of his head. “In the bathroom? Why?” he says, face twisted in confusion.

“Because,” you say softly, playing with your shirt, “I may have accidentally sort of adopted five cats,” you say, “and they’re getting used to where things are,” you trail off allowing your smile to show. You know Dean only hears the words “adopted” and “cats” by his reaction. His eyes widen, and eyebrows raise.

“You what?” he scolds, tone stern. His eyes beg you to tell him you’re joking.

You crack open the door and urge him to look in. He glances you over, keeping his expression as if giving you one last chance to come clean about the prank you must be pulling on him before taking a step to glance in.

He looks around the bathroom, and by the sounds of bells and claws against the linoleum floor, you can picture the five of them playing with the toys you bought, all pouncing over each other.

Dean slowly backs out and closes the door, keeping his back to you while he collects himself. When he turns around to face you, his face is relaxed, but there’s fire in his eyes.

“Y/N,” he says softly, “how the hell do you accidentally adopt five kittens?” he says, jaw tense. “Do you have any idea what our house is going to be like? Smell like?” he says, nose crinkling.

Throwing your hands onto his arms, you stroke his skin, “not if I clean the litter boxes regularly,” you say quickly. “Come on, Dean, you know how much I love cats,” you say with a little bit of a pout.

“Where did they come from?” he asks.

“They were tied under some bushes outside the supermarket. I went to go get groceries and the second I got out of my car I could hear them screaming. It was really hot, they were miserable,” the words all come out quickly, and you take a deep breath.

He sighs, relaxing, “that was really sweet of you to save them, Y/N, but that doesn’t mean they’re your -our- responsibility. Couldn’t you take them to the shelter?”

“I tried the shelter, Dean. They said they didn’t have any room left,” you say in a sigh, “which means-”

He cuts you off with a wave of his hand, rolling his eyes, “I know what it means,” he says with a sigh. His eyes bounce between yours for a moment before he opens the bathroom door again, greeted by a purring kitten. As he takes a step in you watch Cuddle Bug rub her head against his shin, and the faintest of smiles flashes on Dean’s face.

He turns to face you, pushing the bathroom door open a little wider, “how old are they?”

You shrug, “shelter’s vet looked them over and said possibly three maybe four months old.”

He nods slowly, looking back at you before kneeling down to stroke Cuddle Bug on the head. “Are they fixed?”

“I have no idea,” you say with a shrug, “I’m assuming they aren’t, given the state they were in when I found them,” you say.

Dean gently picks up Cuddle Bug and stands, smiling slightly when she rubs her head against his scruff.

“Aren’t they adorable?” you smile, feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning.

He only nods, stroking Cuddle Bug’s fur as she purrs away in his arms.

“So does this mean we get to keep them?”

He glances at you, eyebrows raised. “We need to get them fixed ASAP,” he says and you smile. “But you love them, and I love you, so,” he shrugs, putting the kitten back on the ground to kiss you on the forehead. “You did good saving them, Y/N/N,” he says, pulling you into a hug.

“Yeah, I know,” you smile.

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[1000roughdrafts]

Voicemails

A/N: this is a small, angsty thing, and it is 100000% self indulging so please feel free to just ignore it.

W/C: 1000 or so idk I wasn’t counting this time

Warnings: major angst, Dean & Sam comforts reader, language

Dean x Reader

Dean was cautious, putting his palm up against the door and taking a deep breath in as he listened through the crack.

“Hey Y/N, just calling to tell you I love you. It’s dad. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

Hearing the almost robotic voice followed by a muffled yelp, Dean’s eyes clenched shut as he took in another deep breath.

“Hey Y/N, just calling to tell you I love you. It’s dad. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

He knew he needed to talk to her, to tell her that the healthiest thing she could do after losing her dad was definitely not replaying saved voicemails over and over. But he took a pause, because who was he to tell someone else how they should grieve?

Letting out a heavy sigh, he pushed the door of their room open and saw her sitting on the edge of the bed, her phone held up against her soaked face. She didn’t look up. Just hit a button on her phone.

“Hey Y/N, um,” the voicemail played, “haven’t heard from you in a while,” the voice was choppy, and Dean heard a broken man that was trying to conceal his tears. Even he choked up a bit. “I know that you’re, uh, you’re still pretty upset with me,” the voice chirped, almost in a remorseful chuckle. The voice took a deep breath, “but I love you, Y/N, and I’m trying. I’m trying to be a better man, a better father to you. Please call me back. I love you.”

She’d slowly turned her head up at Dean after it ended, but she wasn’t looking at him. He’d never seen her eyes so red before, so empty and they were looking right through him.

Dean slowly walked to stand in front of her, and dropped down, hands finding their way up to her knees.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s dad again,” another voicemail played, and Dean felt his heart twist inside of him. “I miss you. I’m trying to get help. I’m in therapy, and the program is going well.” The voice was happier, but it almost sounded forced. The voice chuckled, “you know, you used to say ‘I love you, daddy’.” He sniffled, “I love you, Y/N. I love you very much, and I miss you,” the voice sounded squished at the end, like he was stifling a sob. “I miss you so much, Y/N, and you will always be my baby girl.”

Y/N dropped the phone into her lap and her hands flew up to cover her face as a heart shattering sob took over her whole body. Dean knew there was nothing he could say, so he just wrapped his arms around her and let her cry into him.

The sobs quickly turned into screams, stifled only by his chest. Sam burst into the room at the commotion. Breathless, his arms dropped at his side as his sorrowful eyes met with Dean and he frowned.

He walked to the bed and sat beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, and the other around Dean’s back, pulling the both of them into a tight hug.

When Y/N got a hold of her breathing again, she pulled herself from them, reaching for her phone. It was like she was aware of their presence, and yet she was alone at the same time.

She hit a button, “hey Y/N, just calling to tell you I love you. It’s dad. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

Tears streamed down her face, some falling into her lap and others landing on the phone.

She wiped the screen off and hit the button once more, “hey Y/N, just calling to tell you I love you. It’s dad. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

“Okay,” Dean said softly. He slowly gripped onto the phone, pulling it gently from her hand. She kept her hands pooled up, as if the phone still remained as she stared into them. “That’s enough of that, Y/N,” he said delicately, and to his surprise, she didn’t fight back. She didn’t even move her eyes from where the phone was, just continued to stare into her hand, silent sobs rocking her.

When she started to shake, Sam scooted closer, tightening his arm around her once more and pulling her closer.

Dean stood to slip the phone into his back pocket, and quickly dropped back down to his knees to take her face in his hands. The tears felt warm against his palm as he cupped her cheeks. He tilted her head up to face him.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Y/N, look at me,” he said. Her eyes lazily coasted onto his, and while he still didn’t feel like she was looking at him, the eye contact was enough. “Listen baby,” he lulled. “Me and Sam, we got you. We’re not going anywhere, we’re here for you. Whatever you need.”

Ignoring his words, something clicked in her, and for the first time she looked at him, and actually saw him.

“I should have called him, Dean,” she said, her voice cracking. “I should have fucking called him. Why didn’t I call him?” She said, moving her body back to get his hands to fall off of her face. “Why did I have to wait for him to die to listen to these voicemails? Why did I have to wait until he was gone forever to tell him how much I really love him, how much I need him,” she scoffed. “Why didn’t I call him, Dean?” She said, sobs shaking her words.

“He died thinking I hate him, Dean,” she cried, her voice growing louder. “He’s gone and I can’t tell him that I’m sorry, that I love him. He died thinking that I was mad at him,” she yelled. “He’s gone forever,” she yelled, her throat dry. “And I couldn’t even send him a fucking text message!”

“You couldn’t have known, Y/N,” Sam said, rubbing her arm.

“Not the point, Sam,” she snapped. Looking back over at Dean, her tear filled eyes slit. “Give me my phone,” she demanded, hand stretched out.

Dean’s eyebrows turned down, and all he could do was shake his head.

Sam’s arm dropped from Y/N when she quickly stood and Dean jumped back and out of the way.

“Give me my fucking phone,” she snarled.

Dean’s eyes dropped to Sam, who brought himself to his feet with a shrug. Dean let out a loud sigh, reaching into his pocket for her phone.

Dangling it in front of her, he kept a tight grip on the phone, “okay, but you have to promise you’ll stop torturing yourself like this. You can’t feel guilty, for any of this. What he did, those were his choices to make.”

Yanking the phone from his hand, her hands shook as she unlocked it.

“Yeah, Y/N, I’m sure he understands. He knows that you love him, I’m sure of it.”

Continuing to ignore them, she pressed the play button again on her phone. Dean and Sam stood in silence, listening as the voice spoke, “hey Y/N, just calling to tell you I love you. It’s dad. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

“I should have just called him,” she whispered, holding the phone close to her chest as she cried out.

She fell to the ground and her phone went with her. Dean and Sam were quick to be at her side, rubbing her back and playing with her hair as she mourned.

••••

Kind of an abrupt ending, but so is life i guess

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[1000roughdrafts]

Family Secrets: Chapter Eleven

This Bed is for Sleeping

Summary: You spend the evening talking and drinking with Dean, which leads to a flirty night. Despite wanting more than a steamy kiss, Dean doesn’t let you break the promise you made yourself when sober. 

A/N: Sorry about errors in previous posts. this one should be fine though :) This is my favorite chapter in this series, so let me know if you like it:) 

Warnings: intense fluff, things heat up between Dean and reader, kissing, 

W/C: 1.6k

Masterlist/schedule

Previous Chapter

The room glows by the moonlight coming in from the window, and the flicker of the candle that sits on the coffee table. Surrounding the table and around your feet are empty beer bottles. An icy breeze flows in from behind the curtains, leaving you twisted in deciding whether to be upset that you left it open, or thankful that it gives you something to focus on rather than being alone with Dean. 

Oh, how times have changed, you accidentally think a little too loudly. 

“You’re tellin’ me,” Dean shatters the silence and stands from the couch. “You want another?” He motions to the empty bottle you’ve been holding in your hands for the majority of the conversation. 

“Yes, please.” You stretch out your arms in an attempt to hide your concentration of his movements. He lightly scratches the tip of his nose as he unavoidably brushes against your leg while walking between you and the coffee table. The sensations sends a jolt to your spine, eliciting a response that comes out as a quick shiver. 

Without shame now, you continue to admire his muscular physique. The denim of his jeans hugs his thighs, but leave his calves to breathe. His shirt droops down as he leans into the small fridge, exposing the celestial skin underneath. With a beer in each hand he languidly turns around with a drunken smile when he sees you’d been watching him. This time, his provocative and magnetic eyes shatter the silence. 

Sitting closer to you now, he rests his forearm on your thigh. The chilly bottom of the beer sends goosebumps down your leg when his eyes are on yours like they are. His fingertips trace along your leg as they trail back to his side. 

You move your tongue around in your mouth and lick your bottom lip. “I can’t tell if it’s the beer, the last five months, or you that’s making my head spin,” you say, your voice still cracking from the dryness in your throat and mouth. You tilt your head to face him, and amend the cord between his eyes and yours. 

He lets his voice be delicate, “is all three an option?” 

You hang your head with a smile and a small giggle, “I’m starting to think that’s the only option.” 

With his body leaning forward, he turns his head to look at you with crinkled eyes and the start of a smile, “yeah.”

He keeps his attention focused on you through the silence, indulging himself in the treat that is you. Taking in every detail from the way your eyes glimmer from the flame, to how the moon illuminates parts of your face while keeping the other parts in the shadows. 

He folds his tongue in his mouth before lightly biting down on it, “well, if you’re in control of this brain train, we need to set some ground rules. No more drinking and driving,” he reaches into your lap in a failed attempt to take the bottle from your hands, “you’re letting a few,” he softly bites his lower lip as you grip tightly onto your beer, “uh, personal thoughts loose.” 

You try to conceal your laughter by putting the drink to your mouth, but you can’t hide your sly smile. “You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you?” He nudges your side, laughing authentically before you dare let yours out. “Oh, that’s real classy, Y/N.” 

“Hey, I heard you thinking the same things the other night,” you smirk. “And that was even before we remembered our past.” 

“Okay,” he chuckles, holding out the word while searching for an excuse, “that was just... shut up,” he hums with a boyish grin. 

“Wait, what?” your eyes widen, mouth opens and you try to suppress your smile, “I was just bluffing. I can’t believe I was right.” 

“Yeah, remind me not to play poker with you,” he laughs weakly, taking a sip of his drink, “like, ever.” 

“Well, but now I’m curious,” you pull your leg onto the couch, folding it between you and Dean and rotating your body to face him. “What were you thinking?” 

“About you?” He sweeps his leg, brushing off nothing but finding himself needing something to do with his hands. “Oh, it was nothing. Just, you know, wondering if you were as feisty in bed as you were when we first met,” he says in a self deprecating laugh. “The second time, I guess.” 

You inch closer, moving your leg onto him as you do. “Is the Dean Winchester being bashful? Who’d have known?” you tease. 

He looks up at you with a pink tint on his cheeks. “Correct me if I’m wrong here, Y/N,” the smile fading into a yearning expression with merciful green eyes. “But this doesn’t exactly feel like taking things slow.” 

You put a foot onto the ground and pivot around, positioning one leg on either side of him. “Maybe I changed my mind,” you whisper sultrily with your hands on his shoulders, bringing them down his chest as you drop comfortably and slowly onto his lap. 

He shakes his head, wrapping his hands around your wrists, “sweetheart, you know there’s nothing I want more, but,” he slides his hands down your arms and lets them fall off of your elbows and onto your waist, “I made sober Y/N a promise that I’m not about to let drunk Y/N seduce me into breaking.” His head moves with his eyes as they study the image of you in his lap. 

You brush your lips next to his ear, sending a tingle down his spine before you can even get out the words, “sober me won’t be mad about a silly kiss, Dean.” 

His eyes close as he leans his head against the couch. You bring your lips under his ear, only allowing the warmth of your breath to do the work as you enjoy the slight flinching of his hips under you. “I mean, we’ve only been waiting for this moment for damn near twenty years,” you say in a slow, and somewhat sarcastic tone against his neck before kissing his skin. 

“With that logic,” he says in a heavy breath. “What’s the harm in waiting another night, huh?” 

You deepen your kiss, suctioning your lips against his neck, taking your time before moving on to an untouched piece of skin to tease. He wraps his hands around your head, pulling it back and takes a handful of your hair, brushing it away. Putting his lips against your neck, he kisses you a little deeper, more passionately, than you’d done for him. A subdued moan escapes you and you feel his lips curl on your skin. 

“If you’re gonna be a tease,” he says, “you gotta do it right.”

His lips travel from your neck and onto your cheek before meeting up with your slightly parted lips. His calloused hands move through your hair. He shuffles the two of you forward, just enough to pull you closer to him and wrap your legs around his hips. He lifts the both of you with ease, and waddles the few short steps to the perfectly made bed, gently dropping you onto your back. Propping himself above you, he takes the moment to ogle you, looking so natural and flawless in front of him. 

You arch your back as you scoot further down just a bit, catching eyes with him, “what?” you ask. 

“Nothing,” he smiles. 

You wrap your hands around his face, pulling him into a kiss. One of his elbows buckles at the suddenness, dropping his chest onto yours. You move your hand down his side and rest it on his hip, keeping the other wrapped around his jaw, fingers in his hair. 

Slipping your leg between his, you tenderly push against him. He breaks the kiss to softly moan in your ear. “Okay, that’s it... for tonight,” he suppresses another moan and swallows, “and just for night, this bed is for sleeping.” 

He kisses your cheek and lays beside you, wrapping an arm over your chest. No matter how badly you want to say ‘screw it’ and go against your own wishes, you keep to the rule and snuggle up to him, falling asleep when you do.

You’re not sure which woke you first, the sun as it spilled into the room or the banging in your head from a well deserved hangover. You lay on your side with his arm wrapped around you, hand curled up next to your stomach. You don’t need to remember the night to know who it is, but to say you remember more than bits and pieces wouldn’t be the full truth. 

Without moving your body, you turn your hand to peak at him out of the corner of your eye. His lips and face droop peacefully in his slumber. 

“Dean,” you say quietly. With no response, you wiggle yourself out from under him to sit on your knees facing him. Putting a hand on his shoulder, you shake him gently, “Dean, wake up.” 

He mumbles, eyelids fluttering as they open and adjust to the light. When he sees your face, he puts on a sleepy smile, “mornin’.” He sits up and stretches out his arms, “how’d you sleep?” 

“Fine, I think,” you say, looking to the side and around the room at all of the bottles. Looking back at him, you point to the bed, “did we...?” 

He matches your gaze at the state of the room, then shakes his head, “no. Believe me,” he chuckles, “I wanted to, but uh, no it wouldn’t have been right.”

You raise an eyebrow, though you have no reason to suspect him of lying to you. “You’re sure? One hundred percent sure?” 

He laughs, “oh yeah.” He wraps his hands around you, pulling you into his chest. “I’d make sure you remembered it,” he says with a wink. 

After getting your balance, the two of you meet Sam outside. Dean has a hand to his forehead, and holds up a finger as Sam starts to speak, “no talking. Just coffee.” 

Next Chapter

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