#dean winchester x latina!reader

[zepskies]

A Little Danger

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized!Reader (Latina)

Summary: While relaxing together in the bunker, Dean takes your playful teasing to a new level. (And he’s too horny to care about the consequences.)

AN: Couch sex, basically. This is another one for the Espresso-verse! Includes a call back to Devour Me.

Word Count: 2K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Smutty smut in a semi-public place. Hair pulling, flirty teasing, endearments, “twist” ending.

Start from the beginning of the series: ⤵️

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Usually, Dean likes the feeling of your fingers running through his hair.

Like now, on a rare day of quiet relaxation after a long hunt. When Mary’s out and Sam’s on a grocery run. And Dean’s laid out across the couch in the library, arms crossed, earbuds in while Zeppelin’s “Going to California” plays in stereo, his head and shoulders resting against your plush thigh.

Your feet are propped up on the coffee table, your mostly bare legs crossed at the ankles. You have a book in one hand while you’ve been absently massaging his head…

But when you start to get weary of reading, in your boredom, your clever fingers become less soothing through his light brown hair, and more playful in their ministrations. You start to push his hair in the opposite direction, making it spike forward in disarray.

Dean frowns. You can’t see it, but you sense the change, in the way he stops bobbing his head lightly in time with the music.

You bite back a smile and continue your little game, even tugging a little on the strands when you push them forward. Like rubbing a cat the wrong way.

Letting out an annoyed breath through his nose, Dean takes out one earbud.

“What. Are you doing?” he asks.

It takes everything within you not to laugh.

“You’re my erizito,” you reply, smiling. You take a peek at his profile and catch the way his brows furrow.

“What the hell’s that?” he asks.

“My little hedgehog,” you translate the Spanish endearment for him, and you tease him, tugging again on his soft strands.

You finally have to giggle at the way he looks back at you from the corner of his eye. You get maybe one more time to sweep your fingers through his hair the wrong way, before he grabs your hand and turns over.

Your resulting squeal turns into laughter when he yanks his earbuds off and plucks your book out of your hand.

“Eh, eh! Don’t lose my place,” you warn, stopping him from closing the book all the way. He allows you to dog-ear your page, but he then tosses the book onto the coffee table to join his phone and earbuds.

“Come ‘ere,” he mutters.

Then he grabs your crossed legs and manhandles you beneath him on the couch. You allow it with a yelp of surprise and much giggling when he jostles you, pulling you down by your hips. Dean lowers himself between your legs, where he’s so often welcome, and settles his body over yours.

You smirk in his face. His hair is all kinds of fucked up.

He can see you’re admiring your handiwork. Little hedgehog, huh?

With a shake of his head, he bows down and silences your teasing with a kiss.

Your eyes fall closed. You breathe in and utter a sound of contentment. You frame his face with your hands and follow the familiar dance of his lips against yours.

A delicious push and pull that has his teeth grazing your full lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair. His other arm is perched high above your head, giving him leverage to completely cage you with his broad, heavy frame.

But it’s a good heavy. You like the feel of him laid out over you, protective and claiming all at once. And he likes the feeling of every soft curve of yours; thighs, breasts, and soft middle all a welcoming place for him to rest—and then ravage.

His lips veer away from your mouth, allowing you both to catch your breath. He burns a warm, sloppy path along your jawline. You wrap your arms around him and splay your hands across his back. They slide lower as he moves down, and down your neck.

“Babe,” you prompt quietly in his ear. You can’t help but smile. “We’ve gotten in trouble on this couch before.”

As in, you both have been caught buck ass naked and tangled together on this couch. By his brother. Twice.

Dean smirks, just before he starts to tease the shell of your ear with his tongue.

“Tell me you don’t like a little danger,” he says. 

Right, you think, with a shudder at his tongue. Or, he just has no fucking shame.

You have to giggle regardless. The trembling in your chest moves both of you, makes the shape of Dean’s smile press into your skin. He continues his downward path and rucks up your shirt.

Your knees bend further on reflex and squeeze his hips when his tongue dips between your breasts, still pushed up by your bra. You arch your back so he can slip a hand under your back and unclip the white lace. He slides it off your body, along with getting your shirt up and over your head.

Your hands dive under his layers of red plaid and black undershirt, sliding up and down the smooth slopes of his back, grazing with your nails, getting him worked up enough to have him yank off the layers himself.

He’s left in his jeans, which begin to find friction against your clothed center through the little shorts you often wear around the bunker. Dean both likes them and hates them.

Likes them, because you fill them out well, and he likes getting a handful of your ass (like he’s doing now, while he begins to rock the hard bulge in his jeans against your core while kissing you hungrily).

He also hates these little spandex shorts, because he’d rather his brother not get to see you in them. Still, Dean gets too much enjoyment out of slipping his fingers under them, squeezing your thigh, letting his thumb brush down towards your center.

Already your pussy’s throbbing.

“Need you,” you pant against his lips.

It’s been a bit too long since you two have had this kind of time alone together, not to mention the energy to fool around. It’s making you not really give a fuck about being out in the open in the middle of the library, when your shared bedroom is just down the hall.

Dean nods, then he finally palms one of your breasts like he’s reacquainting himself with an old friend. He rolls a budding nipple between his fingers and moans when he gets the other into his mouth, swirling with his tongue.

He drags a moan out of you too. You delve your hand into his wrecked hair and grip tight to keep him there.

You find yourself writhing underneath him, your hips rolling against his with need.

“Dean…” Your voice is pleading.

“Okay, I gotcha,” he says against your skin. He drags down your little shorts by the hem and reveals bare ass against the couch cushions. He hums with interest. “No panties today?”

“Surprised you didn’t notice,” you quip.

Though you do the work of unclipping his belt and helping him shimmy out of the jeans, letting them pool to the floor alongside your clothes. You roll down his boxer briefs far enough to let his cock spring free. He grabs your arm and utters a deep groan at the way you handle him, with a gentle but firm hand along his shaft.

“Guess I’ve been distracted,” he admits. He presses a forehead against your shoulder and bucks into your hand, the more you tease him. “Fuck, how long’s it been since—”

“A couple weeks,” you answer him. You begin to kiss down his neck, occasionally nipping his skin. “Too long.”

“Too damn long,” he agrees, with another sound of pleasure. He stops your hand so he can concentrate on getting you ready. He slips a long finger down your slit and between the wet folds of your pussy, where you’re already soaking for him, coating his digit.

“Fuck,” he mutters again, “all this for me, baby?”

You breathe a laugh and drag your nails down the back of his neck. “Always.”

Dean grins. Just to be thorough, he slips two fingers into your wet channel. He revels at the way you hold him close by the back of his neck and moan encouragements into his ear. But you cry out when his thumb finds your clit, and circles it with precision. Then the rest of his fingers open you up and rub against your most sensitive places.

As your inner walls tighten, so does your hand; it moves back into his hair so you have something better to hold onto. 

“Dean,” you utter a warning. He nods and withdraws his hand from inside you. He peeks over the couch again, just to make sure no one’s coming. You both know this is about to be quick and dirty.

You both are panting when he grasps your hips and gives himself a better angle. You hook your thighs around his waist and give him an encouraging nod. With that, Dean positions himself at your entrance and slowly sheathes his cock deep inside you.

You release a shuddering breath, pressing your head back into the cushions. Your hair is a tangled mess fanning underneath you. He still has a hand planted on the couch’s arm above your head; you grasp his arm for stability. Dean rubs one of your thighs, in part to also get himself together as your inner walls spasm tight around him.

Fuck, it has been a while.

But he’s making up for lost time. He gives you long, steady strokes at first, letting you feel every inch of his cock as he drives back into you. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine and you arch against him, your hands clasped on his arms.

Your heels pressing into his ass spur him on and speed up his rhythm, until he’s hitting so hard and deep against your cervix that it almost hurts. It’s a mix of intense pleasure tinged with that briefest bit of pain as he also hits your G-spot over and over.

But a few purposeful swipes of his thumb over your clit ensures that you come with him when he finally spills into you. He buries his face where your neck meets your shoulder, and a ragged grunt rolls from his throat as his release truly hits him.

You hold him to you, your own thighs quivering along with his last few strokes inside you. That hot coil snaps and you let out a gasping moan—one he swallows up with a deep kiss.

“Jesus,” you breathe, after he releases your lips. Dean catches his breath and gives you a shrug, despite his smug grin.

You smirk and once again sweep your hand through his ridiculous hair. It’s even more wild than before. You pull your hands through it, sliding down his neck on both sides. 

“I stand corrected,” you say slyly. “Now you’re my erizote.”

Dean snorts. “And that would be?”

“My big hedgehog,” you tease.

Dean rolls his eyes, even as his face warms. He tries not to laugh in the face of your unending giggles.

Neither of you register the footsteps coming closer until it’s just about too late.

“Dean, are you—Oh!”

His face falls, and his eyes widen when they meet his mother’s over the back of the couch.

“Shit!” he exclaims, covering you with his body when you gasp. But it’s not really you that you’re worried about her seeing.

No mother should have to see her adult son’s naked ass.

Mary stands there behind the couch with her hand over her eyes.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t see…anything,” she says. Usually she’s a better liar.

“I’m so sorry, Mary,” you try to say, but she waves you off.

“Just…clean the sofa. Okay, guys?” she says. Then she walks away without looking back.

Dean grimaces like he’s in pain.

“Sorry, Mom,” He calls to her retreating back.

He releases a breath and lowers his forehead into the crook of your neck. Your body shakes with involuntary giggles while you hold him, soothing him with a caress of his cheek. He’s still buried deep inside you, but by now he’s released your thighs from being wrapped around his hips.

“At least it wasn’t Sam this time,” you offer.

“I don’t know what’s worse at this point,” Dean grumbles.

You bite your lip. “Well, I mean, I did warn you—”

Dean gives you a playful slap on the ass to shut you up. But your resulting squeal and laughter just makes him smile.

AN: 😅 This one-shot started out innocent, I swear. What was once a simple "chilling on the couch" drabble turned into smut somehow, but I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think. 😘

Keep Reading:

Next up in this series is "In Bad Weather." It acts as the finale of the Espresso-verse, though I'm still writing stories within the world to fill in the gaps when different prompts come to mind:

Summary: You and Dean tackle the biggest possible monkey wrench in your relationship yet: could Chuck have been manipulating you two all along? [Set in S15 - “Fix It” for season finale]

▶️ Next Story: In Bad Weather

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords

[solitaryearthperson]

Support (sequel to Comfort)

Summary: Waking up from a nightmare and not being able to go back to sleep, Dean heads down to his man-cave. (Y/N) finds him and comforts him.

(The reader uses she/her pronouns and is 18+. The ethnicity is any.)

Again it happened. Another restless night. It was a normal thing for him now, having these nightmares. It started when he was younger back when he officially started hunting, and its continued ever since. He wondered if Sam went through this too. He wondered if his little brother suffered from nightmares almost nightly and like him never said anything. I don't blame him, Dean thought to himself. What good would it do talking about the monsters we hunt in our nightmares? He knew deep down that it wasn't healthy to bottle all of this up, but he didn't know what else to do. He could talk about it but he's made it clear many times that he doesn't want to do any chick-flick moments, and he knows that's what it's gonna lead to.

I'm fine with this, he decided, taking another sip from his beer. After he woke up sweating from his nightmare, he decided that he was gonna go down to his man-cave or as he liked to call it, his "Dean-cave". He sat in an old school recliner facing a TV on the wall, looking at whatever was on. He didn't really care what was on, just as long as something was on. Just as long as there was no silence.

(Y/N) was already up before Dean. Not because of another nightmare, but more because she just couldn't really sleep. The bunker was a large place with many different hallways, and their rooms were somewhat far from each other, so when she heard Dean wake up from his sleep with a small scream all the way from her room, she knew something wasn't right. She waited in bed in silence, wondering about what he was going to do. She didn't want to bother him if he was going through something, but she also wanted to help if she could.

She tiptoed through the hallways, following his footsteps to his "Dean-cave" and waited outside the room, not sure when to exactly come in or to announce her presence.

"I know you're there, (Y/N)," Dean announced, taking a sip from his beer, his eyes not wavering from the TV. "What're you doing up, kid?"

"Nothing," she answered, entering the 'cave' and making her way over to the side of the recliner and leaning against it.

"Another bad dream," he asked looking up at her tiredly.

"No, I just couldn't sleep," she looked up to the TV and frowned. " You're watching a cooking show?"

Confused, Dean looked back to the TV and frowned in disgust before quickly changing the channel to a football game.

"You sure you're fine?" He looked back to her, worry clear in his eyes.

She nodded her head. "Yeah, I am." She hesitated for a second, not sure how to ask her question in a way that won't make him uncomfortable. "Dean, are you okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I heard you wake up. I heard your scream." He turned his head back to the TV screen and was silent for a while, leaving (Y/N) to awkwardly wait for his response next to him.

After a silent while, he spoke, "Don't worry ' bout me, (Y/N). I'm good, I'm fine."

His voice had a slight tremble to it and she wondered if he knew how it sounded. He kept his focus on the TV, but she could see him swallowing down whatever it was that was eating at him.

"You know I'm here for you, so is Sam and Cas. We're here for you-"

"Yeah, I know. I'm good. I just had a bad dream. That's all."

He took another sip from his bottle and began changing the channels on the TV, the atmosphere in the room suddenly changing and she could feel the sudden shift in the air. She thought back to when she had her nightmare, how Dean told her to just cry it out and not worry about telling him what her nightmare was, and she realized what she should do.

She moved to sit on the arm rest of the recliner and slowly wrapped her arms around his shoulders, gently embracing him and sitting her head next to his. She could feel him tense up for a second before relaxing.

"You don't need to tell me. Just know someone's here for you," she told him.

She could feel him take a deep breath before exhaling loudly and she glanced over at his face to see a tear slowly rolling down his cheek.

"Dean?"

"It's fine," he told her, leaning his head slightly against hers. " It's fine."

[nicksalchemy1]

Mientras Respiro, Espero - Part 1

Pairing: Firefighter AU Dean Winchester x Nurse!Plus-Size!Mexican!Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester, a firefighter with a reputation for casual flings, finds himself longing for something more meaningful in his life. Meanwhile, you, a stubborn surgical intern, are trying to escape your past in California. When Dean loses a bet and is tasked with cleaning the trucks, your paths cross unexpectedly. Little do both of you know meeting each other would cause some problems.

A/N: “Mientras Respiro, Espero”: Spanish for “while I breathe, I wait.”

Here’s the first part of my little story. I really like writing in this universe and if part goes well, then I’ll continue posting. (I’m gonna post it anyways 🧐) Credits for inspiration again go to @zepskies !!

🚒 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2,167

Warnings: Toxic parental situation, mentions of fat-shaming, childhood trauma, and a quick old-fashioned meet cute.

Part 1 - Who’s Afraid Of Little Old Me?

Avalon, California, was a gilded cage with ocean views, where the houses were as polished as the facades people wore. It was in one such manicured home where your story paused.

“Mija, you’re wasting your life with these... these dreams of yours! ¡No seas tan estúpida!” Your mother’s voice was a razor wrapped in velvet, cutting into you as you packed the last of your belongings into an old, battered suitcase.

The room was a mausoleum of your former life, with its pristine walls adorned with academic accolades and a full-length mirror that once reflected a girl desperate to please. Now, it only mirrored your resolve.

“I’m saving it, not wasting it,” you shot back, the words tumbling from your lips like brave soldiers in battle. You tucked a framed photo of your childhood self – the one with the broadest, most hopeful eyes – into the suitcase's side.

Your mother’s silhouette filled the doorway, her arms crossed in the silent indictment. “And what about the family reputation? Our standing in the community?”

You zipped up the suitcase, and the sound of a definitive line drawn. “What about my happiness, Mamí? What about living a life that’s actually mine? With someone who won’t pick on me like I’m still a child?”

She scoffed dismissively, a sound that stung like salt in an open wound. “Esos gringos no saben nada. Happiness is a luxury for those who can afford to be foolish.”

You locked eyes with her in the mirror, your own gaze hardened like forged steel. “Then consider me a fool.”

The house seemed to hold its breath as you shouldered past her, suitcase in hand. Your father stood in the hallway, a silent sentinel. His eyes, a mirror of your own, flickered with something that might have been pride or sorrow – or both.

“Daddy,” you whispered, pausing for a moment.

He cleared his throat, a rumble from deep within. “You always were the stubborn one,” he murmured, his voice barely above a soft-spoken whisper. “Be careful. Call me anytime you need me.”

A nod was all you could muster before you descended the staircase, each step a drumbeat to your newfound freedom. The door closed behind you with a finality that echoed through your bones. The California sun dipped low, as if bowing to your courage.

The suitcase wheels rumbled against the cobblestone path, a small but sure declaration of your departure. Behind you, the house – a beautiful prison of expectation and familial duty – faded into just another part of the landscape.

You didn't look back.

Considering it was your first time flying in an airplane, first class at that, you were anxious. Not about actually being in the plane around people or the way the lady in the seat across from your aisle coffee smelled like someone took a fancy shit, but because you were moving in with a couple that you trusted yet, hardly knew.

Mary and John Winchester were rough around the edges, but they meant well. They knew what happened in your household, how toxic it was, and invited you to stay with them in Lawerence. Plus, you would be able to keep your job. Mary was head of Neurosurgery and earned you a spot as a surgical intern. Working hard or hardly working, am I right? You thought to yourself, smiling to yourself.

And boy, were these ‘gringos’ rich. Not only did they offer you that extra guest room in their house, but they also bought you your first-class seat, in which your butt was in right now.

You knew John was a respected detective, and with his income mixed with Mary’s, they made bank.

You also knew they had two sons. John and Mary mentioned their names, but you knew the youngest worked for the ADA, and the oldest worked as a firefighter.

Cool. Wonder what that's like, you tilt your head in thought.

A stable work life, home life, and family. But not all ‘picture-perfect’ families meant they were truly picture perfect.

And that was for you to figure out.

The airplane descended through the cotton candy clouds, and the world below began to take shape—a patchwork of fields and roads that would soon become your new reality. Your heart danced a nervous tango with the seatbelt across your lap, anticipation tightening with every drop in altitude.

The captain's voice crackled through the cabin, announcing the imminent landing in Lawrence. You straightened up, smoothing the fabric of your jeans as if to iron out the last creases of your past life.

When the wheels kissed the tarmac, you felt a jolt, not unlike the one that had propelled you out of your family’s house. You collected your single suitcase from the overhead bin—a symbol of your fresh start—and made your way through the aisle with a resolve that echoed the click-clack of your boots on the aircraft's floor.

The airport was small but buzzing with life, a hive of reunions and farewells. You stood for a moment at the arrival gate, scanning the crowd until you saw them.

Mary's presence was undeniable. She stood with a grace that spoke of her surgical precision, her eyes warm and welcoming. John, equally imposing in his own right, had the stance of a man who had weathered storms and could chart a course through any adversity.

They spotted you almost immediately, and Mary’s smile widened as she opened her arms. “There she is! Welcome to Kansas!”

You stepped into her embrace, the scent of antiseptic mingling with a soft perfume—a stark contrast to the oppressive aroma of your mother's overwhelming floral scents. “Thank you, Mary,” you smiled, grateful for the genuine warmth.

John extended his hand, which you shook firmly, finding in his grip the silent support of a seasoned detective. “Good to have you here. We’ve got the guest room all set up for you,” he said, his voice a deep timbre of reassurance.

You nodded, your eyes meeting his. “I can’t thank you both enough for this opportunity.”

As you walked through the airport, with Mary’s hand lightly on your back and John carrying your suitcase, you felt the weight of your old life lifting. The conversation was light, peppered with Mary’s questions about your flight and John’s quips about Kansas being the true heart of America.

Once in the car, the grilling starts. “So, how are you doing, hun?” Mary asks curiously, mainly because she’s concerned and trying to make sure you’re comfortable.

“Oh, you know, as good as you can be while moving state from state.” You remark as politely as possible, trying not to seep tension into the car ride.

“I hope you feel better. When we get to the house, you’re welcome to rest. I don’t cook very well,” She clears her throat, shrugging, “But I can give you some money to order something in?”

“I couldn’t do that, but thank you. It’s late, anyways. I’ll wait till tommorow morning.”

“Okay. Just as along as you’re comfortable.” Mary winks, a soft, motherly smile on her face.

You nod, meeting her smile with the same.

John pulls the Volkswagen van into the driveway and puts it in park, shutting the engine off. “Home sweet home.”

You sigh and step out of the car, staring at the home. The house is a two-story structure with a prominent green exterior. It features white trim around the windows and roof edges, contrasting nicely with the green. The front door is wooden with a rich, warm tone. There are two windows on the upper floor and one window on either side of the front door on the ground floor. A chimney extends from the left side of the roof, indicating a fireplace inside.

A well-maintained lawn adorned with various small plants and flowers. A concrete pathway leads to three steps up to a small porch area before reaching the wooden front door.

Mary leads you up to where your room is at and it seemed to be one of her boy’s old nurseries, but now the wall was decorated with two old band posters, The Beatles and a Zeppelin poster. Huh. The bed had a floral blanket and a navy sheet under it. There were two pillows in a white silk covers and a lamp on the beside table.

“John and I are gonna hit the hay, so, goodnight, love.” Mary waves from the doorframe, giving you one last glance before heading off.

“Goodnight,” You reply, setting your suitcase down beside your bed and lay back on your bed.

In the locker room, you changed into your scrubs, the fabric feeling foreign yet exciting against your skin. You tucked your hair under a surgical cap and checked yourself in the mirror. Ready.

The hospital corridors were a maze of activity, doctors and nurses moving with a sense of urgency that was almost palpable. You found your way to the intern's lounge, where a group of young doctors was gathered, pouring over patient charts and sipping on coffee as if it were a lifeline.

That's when you met her — Charlie Bradbury. With her vibrant red hair and a stack of comic books under her arm, she was a splash of color in the sterile environment. She noticed you immediately, her green eyes lighting up with an impish sparkle.

"Hey, you must be the new kid! I'm Charlie, your friendly neighborhood genius slash intern. Welcome to the chaos!" she greeted you with an outstretched hand, adorned with quirky rings.

"Thanks, I'm..." you began.

"Don't tell me," she interrupted playfully, "You're the one who just flew in from Cali, right? Mary's been raving about you."

You chuckled, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Guilty as charged."

Charlie showed you around, her chatter filling the spaces between the bustle of the hospital. She introduced you to the other interns, the nurses, and even the grumpy guy who ran the coffee cart. Throughout the day, you shadowed her as she confidently navigated patient care, inserting IV lines with precision and calming anxious patients with her quirky humor.

Despite the exhaustion that came with the endless rounds and the mountain of new information, you felt a sense of accomplishment. You were doing this, really doing it — and you were not alone.

In the afternoon, Mary tasked you with delivering first aid kits to the local fire department as part of a community outreach program. You welcomed the break from the hospital walls and made your way to the fire station with a box of supplies in tow.

As you approached, you noticed a firefighter washing a large, red truck — his sleeves rolled up, revealing muscular arms, and his focus never wavering from the task at hand. You hesitated for a moment before approaching.

"Excuse me," you called out, "I have a delivery from Lawrence General?"

He turned around, and you were met with striking green eyes and a smudge of soap on his cheek. He was ruggedly handsome, with a stubble that spoke of long hours and a jaw set with determination.

"Oh, hey," he replied, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Thanks for the-"

Before he could finish, another firefighter called out to him, "Dean, we need you!"

"Sorry, duty calls," he said with a charming, apologetic grin. "Just leave the kits by the door, and thanks again."

"No problem," you replied, feeling a pang of disappointment as the moment ended too quickly. You placed the box down and watched as he jogged back to his colleagues, ready to respond to the next emergency.

The rest of your shift passed in a blur, and before you knew it, Mary was driving you back to the Winchester home. As the car hummed along the road, she glanced at you with a knowing smile.

"I hope your first day wasn't too overwhelming. You did great," she said encouragingly.

"It was definitely a day to remember," you admitted with a tired smile.

Mary's expression turned warm and excited as she announced, "Well, get ready for a family dinner tonight. John and I want you to meet our sons properly. They're excited to have you."

The thought of the evening ahead sparked a mix of nerves and curiosity within you.

"Oh, uh, okay." you replied slightly indifferent by the unexpected dinner, but the prospect of a meal with a family that wouldn’t make measure how many calories your plate has won’t be bad just because you had to meet your “landlord’s” sons. “Sounds nice.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

And there’s that! Next time. 😉

Character Introduction For This Series

Dean Winchester Masterlist

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

It's time y'all.

Let's talk about HOBIE & RACE

- It is not problematic to say that Hobie would display black solidarity by finding black women in specific attractive.

- It is not problematic to say that Hobie would possibly like a partner who could understand his experiences with racism.

- It is not problematic to say he would possibly like a partner who understands how to take care of his hair, or shares the same hair texture.

- It is not problematic to say that Hobie would find beauty in features specific to the black race - when we have been told those features are undesirable in every way for centuries.

We gotta talk about how Colorblindness is forced on Black Characters - Hobie in Specific

Y'all - it's time we have a VERY VERY overdue conversation about Hobie Brown and Race.

Because it is a necessary one.

Hobie Brown, The Black!Reader, & Representation -

aka Black people are not Colorblind - and neither is Hobie Brown -

[let Diane hop on the mic right quick Chile]

Stop acting like Black Fictional Characters would be colorblind.

Black people can't be colorblind, because our color is weaponized against us from birth. We HAVE to see race - because we have to protect ourselves and know our own history

So when we decide to make spaces specifically for us - spaces where black people and black women in specific can be desired and uplifted, I don't see why people have a problem with it.

Hobie Brown loves, yes. But he also lives in 1978. Racial segregation was outlawed in his country in 1965.

Hobie Brown loves, but he's also a black guy who grew up under racial segregation and racism. He's a black guy who fights cops.

The Writers made Spiderpunk - The Spiderperson who fights oppressive cops - black for a REASON.

The Writers chose to have a black guy save Miles for a REASON. To uplift black people.

Writers here on Tumblr made Black!Readers black for same reason.

If Black Lives Matter doesn't mean White Lives Don't Matter -

Then 'Hobie Brown finds black chicks especially attractive' DOESN'T mean 'white women are unattractive'. This isn't about y'all.

And even for the people that say Hobie would like ONLY black people - okay??? They can say that - it's a literal headcanon.

It's not true if you don't want it to be. You don't have to believe it.

But seeing Black people be protective of a black character, and making black content for other black fans - and then saying 'what - stop that. that's wrong. break this up so I can join'

BEFORE you question why they do it - NOT COOL.

That's like asking for more Captain America in Black Panther. Like ?????

That's like hearing a Riot Grrrl say 'All the women to the front!!' and going 'Uhh, all genders are equal, why can't the men stand in the front too?'

Like yes, all genders are equal. But also - This isn't about them. It's about representation.

Stop preaching equality when we're asking for representation.

Cause there are dozens, hundreds, of white characters who only have white on-screen romances.

And their fandoms do not write black!readers. They do not care enough to say 'oh the show isn't representing this, let us do it.'

The media nor the fandom represent black women. They are an afterthought, always.

And you never see posts for them like -

'Dean Winchester loves black women. Dean Winchester loves latinas -'

When it's a white character only dating white women, with xReaders that always imply whiteness, y'all never call for diversity. At all.

You wouldn't make this post for Miguel.

But when it's a black character and someone suggests they only date black women, or people begin to write xReaders that imply blackness instead of your default-

Suddenly you care about diversity.

Because the first time, you're not represented.

Because let's be honest. Let's be real. No one is writing Hobie x White!Reader. Barely anyone is writing Hobie x Latina!Reader.

It's the Black!Reader you have a problem with. Let's just say it.

Allow black people to have their space, without unfairly calling for 'diversity'.

(aka the right to access to black safe spaces, comfort characters, and labor)

Hobie is an attractive, educated black guy who fights and protects people from the aggressors we ourselves genuinely fear everyday.

He is a character like we've never had before. He has so much emotional weight to us.

Let us enjoy him as we please. We aren't hurting anyone else.

We're just not catering to you. We don't have to.

If a black person wants to center Hobie's love on Black people, they have the right.

And I'm not saying you can't write him with a race neutral or even a White!Reader. Go ahead and write that if you want but just know-

1) If you want to write him with an explicitly white or non-black reader - you should approach the topic of race. You should approach and mention the cultural differences. Him going through racism. Don't erase that because you think it makes your writing ugly or sad.

And if you don't put it in, your erasing the reality and black experience because you find something wrong or uncomfortable about it.

2) If you want to write a race neutral reader - make sure they're really race neutral. Don't include details about hair texture, hairstyle, or skin color.

3) If you are asking black writers for requests - do not get mad if they make the request Black.

You cannot get mad at a black writer for interjecting their own experience when writing about a black character. You're basically asking them to strip their blackness from their writing so you can enjoy it more.

Why should they have to second guess and dial back their blackness when we're expected to do that everywhere? If they want to take a break, and write Black!Readers they can.

3) Understand that the black people are going to keep their safe spaces. And they're going to keep Hobie in their corner.

Because honestly, and I'm going to put this brazenly:

Hobie Brown as a character - and what he represents - means more to black fans than it does nonblack fans.

Does that mean he doesn't matter to y'all? No, not at all. Hobie absolutely holds real emotional weight and meaning to you on multiple levels.

But please understand, for black people - we connect to Hobie on an emotional, often trauma-fueled front.

One that you'll never understand.

There is a level that we connect with him on that nonblack people can't. As a dark skinned black guy, a black guy with natural hair, an alt black guy,

As a black guy who has canonically faced police brutality on-screen

To you, this screenshot is most likely Hobie flipping the camera off, edgy and punk. It's funny, tongue in check. ACAB and all that.

To us, this screenshot is of Hobie - a low income black guy - being physically restrained by police and refusing to stop even when they're taking his mugshot. It's a black guy openly flipping off the police and fighting them off and refusing to go down no matter how much they beat him and he's winning YES

After so many videos over SO many years of cops doing that to black men and them.. not winning.

And them just dying and us having to watch. And add another name to list.

When you see his laces, you most likely think ACAB.

When we see his laces, we see that he's a black man who took on a cop and lived to tell the tale. Which is a RARITY.

Because many of them lose the battle.

For us, the context and connection are completely different.

Fanfiction may just be a way for you to kiss up on random characters or comfort yourself, but for us - that's not the case.

For us, fanfiction is a way to show our experiences and features in a media and world that has collectively ignored them. Shunned them, called them ugly.

Maybe make a post or send an ask to a creator - and ask what Black!Readers mean for them, why they find it important.

Hobie Brown likes Black Girls.

He finds them beautiful. He likes wide lips and broad noses and kinky hair. He loves melanin, and brown skin in the sunlight, and seeing a them in a silk bonnet in the morning.

He loves not having to explain his culture, sharing coconut oil and shea butter. He likes seeing waist beads. He likes people who speak AAVE, with twang in their talk.

He likes ghetto black girls with the acrylic nails. He likes Stallions 6 foot tall. He likes masc girls. And fem ones. He loves black nonbinary people because we do not have to cosign to colonialist ideas of gender. And he loves him some black men too - a good fade will make him go crazy, he loves men with long locs and pretty smiles.

Hobie Brown finds the beauty in Black People that have been erased and demonized again and again by White Society.

Hobie Brown holds blackness dear. And he wants black people to do well.

Hobie Brown loves Black People. Hobie Brown loves Black Girls.

And that's on, what?

This has been a PSA from Diane Pastors. Y'all stay blessed out there 😌💗

Anyway what y'all wearing to carnival since we going to carnival and cropover and labor day with Hobie and bringing out all the flags. 🇧🇧🇧🇧 I'm bringing him to cropover in Barbados yeah I said it we're all going to carnival with him.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— GIANTS IN THE OCEAN

SUMMARY : when jensen dresses as dean for halloween, he tried to prove that he can fuck like him when he’s told he doesn’t.

PAIRING : jensen ackles x latina!reader

CHARACTERS : misha collins, jared padalecki, genevieve padalecki

WARNINGS : nsfw (18+), smut, angst, fingering, defending wanda maximoff bc I’m whipped for her, switch!jensen & switch!reader

WORD COUNT : 3.4k

A/N : title from sky eats aeroplane’s song. procrastination, laziness, gah. anyway, it’s the destiny showcase so I’m doing nothing and I’m posting now LOL X

Jensen cleared his throat loudly from where he stood at the closet, trying to get his girlfriend's attention who was applying makeup as a part of her costume. She blinked the blurriness from her eyes and looked at him first from the mirror, then turned around with a raised brow at his costume of choice.

“Dean Winchester? Really? You’re not even trying,” she laughed softly, then returned to quickly finish up with her look. He deflated slightly, pouting as he made his way to her, he got down on his knees and sat back on his legs to admire her.

“Wanda isn't a hero, but Dean is,” he argued after giving some thought to how to respond to her comment. She squinted her eyes, giving him the side-eye, just then she finished up and then turned to face him. He blinked up at her innocently, green eyes wide and pretty, his lashes fluttering like a princess against his freckled cheeks.

She grasped his chin with her black-stained fingers, leaning forward so her red-tinted lips brushed against his, “as a mother, I have to disagree.” He blushed, but excitedly tried to lean forward to claim her lips only for her to pull away with a little tsk. “You’re so pretty like this, baby, on your knees for me like a good boy,” she murmured seductively, swiping her thumb across his pillowy lip.

“Don’t do this to me now,” he moaned, leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against hers. His hands clung tightly to her leather covered thighs and she turned her face slightly to kiss him with a playful smile on her lips. He slid his hands up her legs, grasping her hips to tug her forward, off the chair, and into his lap to deepen the kiss. “You’re so hot,” he mumbled when he pulled away just a bit to breathe. Then, he returned her mouth, hunger hidden beneath each quick peck he gave her.

“So are you, Jay,” she replied softly, pulling away and placing her finger on his lips when he chased her mouth for more kisses. “Especially when you’re dressed as Dean Winchester.” She smirked down at him and his pretty, puckered, pink lips. He gazed at her curiously, a little surprised by her admission. He didn’t have time to respond or to even let that information sink in because he instinctively shut his eyes when she leaned forward quickly to place open-mouthed kisses along his neck.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his breathe catching in his throat when she reached down and started to rub his semi-hard cock over his jeans. “Baby, I don’t wanna get to Jared’s party with my dick hard,” he groaned, his voice deep with lust, breathy and hot. She felt her pussy tingle, a wave of heat and arousal starting to build up between her legs.

“Then, let’s get going before I fuck you here on the floor, yeah? Dean?” She looked down at him innocently, mimicking what he’d done earlier. He shook his head at her, his cock stirring in the tight confines of his jeans at being called Dean. However, with the Scarlet Witch costume she was wearing, it was a little scary but in a hot way. “Now, get your dick soft, my mom’s downstairs with the kids.”

Y/N stood up from Jensen’s lap, getting a matching crossbody bag that was small and didn’t get in the way of her costume. Jensen stayed on the floor for a while, trying to get his mind out of the gutter and get his excitement under control before he got up. Embarrassingly so, she was leaning against the doorway with a smug smile just watching him try to recollect himself.

“Please, Y/N, don’t judge me,” he said playfully, holding his palm up to stop her from looking at him. She chuckled, pushing her body off the doorframe to start walking away, Jensen following right behind.

“I’m pretty sure she calls me names in Spanish,” he blurted out, scratching the back of his neck.

“Pftt, no she doesn’t,” Y/N said unconvincingly, “besides, there’s a difference between my kids and my husband,” she added, shrugging nonchalantly, a grin fighting it’s way onto her lips despite how hard she bit it.

Okay, maybe she did call him names, but they were meant affectionately. And mostly it was names relating to his freckles or his green eyes that were too hilarious or accurate for her to stop her mom from calling him even when he was right there. Like a codename girls use for their crushes or people they dislike.

“You said she liked me!” He exclaimed quietly, grabbing her arm to twirl her around and pull her into his chest.

“She does! I’m messing with you, baby,” she promised, leaning up to kiss the worry from his face. “You’re perfect and she knows that,” Y/N said earnestly, cupping his face in her hands, “she knows you’re an amazing husband and an even better father. I love you so much. I swear, no, I promise you, she likes you too. She told me you were a keeper, Jay.” She looked up at him with the widest, in-love-with-you eyes he just couldn’t help the way it immediately made him relax.

“She did?” He asked softly, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Y/N nodded, her own arms circling around his neck. “I was in love with you from the start and she knew it. She saw everything that you were and she convinced me to go for it before someone else whisked you away. Thanks to her, you’re mine.” Y/N leaned up to kiss him again, softly, tenderly.

“Thanks to her, you’re mine,” Jensen corrected quietly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get so insecure,” he chuckled, brushing her cheek with his fingers lovingly.

“I shouldn’t have said that as a joke, I’m sorry too.” She grabbed his hand and kissed it softly, “let's get out of here.” He kissed her forehead and nodded in agreement, letting her lead all the way downstairs to greet her mother and say goodbye to their children.

“Dean and Wanda?” Misha asked, taking a large sip of his beer. “What a strange couple, but the two of them are crazy about family so…” he smiled broadly, hugging them both. Y/N laughed, squeezing Misha’s side as Jensen patted his back.

“And you’re.. the Mandalorian, but without your helmet on…” Jensen chuckled, pulling away first to ruffle Misha’s already messy hair.

“How else am I supposed to drink beer and eat candy?” He shouted over the music, then dragged the two of them inside to allow people an easier way in. Misha led them into the kitchen, talking about how he’d somehow lost his Grogu toy somewhere in Jared’s house. “Anyway, go crazy you two.. but not as crazy as the people you’re dressed up as,” Misha teased, patting them both on their heads before making his way somewhere else to have fun.

“Well..” Jensen chuckled as he watched Misha leave.

“I love him,” she said happily, then started to put together Jensen’s drink.

“Same,” Jensen smiled, watching her with a loving look. “So… about what you were saying earlier… about me dressing up as Dean? Did you mean that?” He asked, leaning against the counter, attempting to be completely cool about his question, trying not to give away that it's something he’d considered for a while: role playing as Dean during sex.

“Yes?” She confirmed hesitantly, handing him the Old Fashion she’d prepared then started to make her own drink. “Why? Got something naughty in mind?” She asked, glancing up at him every now and then, seeing the blush on his face either from the heat of the house filled with mostly strangers or from whatever was going on in his mind.

“Always,” he grinned bravely, taking a large gulp of the whiskey for his sudden bashfulness. She raised a brow at him, her interest piqued, placing a few gummy worms into her already sweet drink.

“You gonna tell me or show me?” She asked, stepping forward as he took another sip. He choked on it a little, glanced around for anybody who could be watching or listening. At that time, she took a gummy worm and dangled it in front of him playfully. He obediently opened his mouth and let her push the gummy worm inside, the sweet and sour taste making him hum softly in satisfaction.

“Well, I-I was just gonna make a suggestion,” he stuttered, his mouth slightly full with the chewed up candy. He swallowed quickly when she licked her fingers lasciviously, just as he reached behind her to steal a bag of gummy bears.

“I think…” she murmured, hooking her fingers onto his belt loops and tugging him forward. “I think you should honour your costume and show me. Here.” He blinked down at her, his eyes wide and completely astounded at her bold words.

“Shit,” he muttered, his face a bright red colour. “Are you ovulating?”

“Shut up,” she laughed, the spell of wantonness suddenly broken. She took the bag of gummy worms she opened and started to walk away from him, carefully weaving through the dancing and sweaty bodies with her drink.

He downed the rest of the whiskey, knowing he’d definitely need it if she was going to keep it up with the hot flirting. He carefully dumped his cup into the sink then tried to follow her, only to lose her in the literal sea of bodies, salty and heavy. He easily found Jared even in his Green Arrow costume, standing high above most of the people. He was dancing and laughing with Gen, who was dressed as Wonder Woman, the two of them were talking to someone Jensen didn’t know.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” Jensen said politely, turning to Jared. The man was kind and smiled at Jensen, standing off to the side to let Jensen have a quick chat with Jared and Gen. “Have you guys seen Y/N? I sorta lost her. Great costumes by the way,” Jensen rushed out, anxiously trying to get them to respond.

“Hey, Jensen!” Jared’s voice boomed, pulling him into a tight hug, drawing a wheeze from Jensen, which made Genevieve smack him. Jared pulled away and pouted at her, rubbing his arm dramatically but then became serious to focus on Jensen’s question.

“Yeah, she went upstairs with Misha, said it was a bit loud for her,” Gen replied, then made a little ‘oomph’ sound when Jensen hugged her quickly and said a quick thanks to them. Jared and Genevieve looked at each other curiously then got distracted by that same man who joined back in to continue their conversation.

Jensen knew that wasn’t actually the case, but he went upstairs anyway. Couples were kissing loudly and groping each other along the staircase, but upstairs must have been off limits because there was basically no one, just Misha waiting outside one of the doors while holding Y/N’s drink.

“Jensen! She’s using the restroom. Also, this is really sweet,” Misha laughed, handing Jensen the drink so he could try it. Jensen smiled and took the glass, lovingly looking at the colourful drink and the sugar rimmed edge, gummy worms swimming around inside. He shook his head as he thought of Y/N and tried the drink, which set his senses alight, his mouth overwhelmed by the sweetness and the barley-there flavour of vodka.

“Fuck, that’s…” Jensen licked his lips and Misha laughed, stepping aside when Y/N stepped out of the restroom. “Hey, honey. You okay?” She smiled and nodded at them, about to take her drink back, but Jensen pulled it back. She frowned, about to argue, but then he handed it to Misha. “Get rid of it, it’s just gonna give her a headache.” It was the truth, but he’d mostly tasked Misha with it so he could be alone with Y/N.

“Hey!” She whined, trying to walk past Jensen, which only excited Misha. Jensen wrapped his arms around her, stopping her from chasing their beloved friend, holding her close so she instantly started to melt into him.

“No, he’s right,” Misha chuckled, making a break for it. “You eat too much candy and you always get headaches!” Misha had already made it downstairs and he’d definitely be dumping that drink for the monstrosity that it was.

“Were you making me flustered on purpose?” He asked, getting straight to the point. She moved her face from where it was lazily pressed against his arm and gazed up at him, once again, still somehow being able to portray innocence with the dark eyeshadow around her eyes. “Why?”

She huffed softly, a little grin on her face, “because you’re not like Dean when it comes to sex and I think it’s funny to tease you.” She kissed him softly, quickly with her sticky lips, not giving him a chance to kiss her back properly. He just licked his lip from the sugar her lips smeared onto his.

“You think I’m… boring?” He asked, sounding a little confused. He wondered if maybe this was her way of telling him things were a little too vanilla and she needed more, more excitement, more spice, more than he could offer.

“No! God, no, Jay! Why does your mind always go there?” She wondered, holding his face. He grabbed her wrists, pushing her gently into the wall with his body.

“I love you…” he murmured, kissing her forehead. “I just want to make you happy.” He moved her hands away from his face and pinned them together holding them both above her head in one hand.

“I love you.. and you always make me happy,” she replied softly. Her eyes widened slightly when he started to tug her leather pants down her legs. “I’m not wearing any underwear,” she blurted out, biting her lip with a blush heating up her face. He stopped for a moment, a smirk growing on his lips before he continued pulling them down.

“If I touch you in this hallway…” he whispered, kissing her lips swiftly. “Will I be more like Dean?” He stared into her eyes, saw her surprise and the thrill that made her chest rise and fall faster. His eyes flickered down between her legs, where she was indeed lacking underwear, and he let the pants hang low around her thighs.

“I want you. Not Dean,” she mumbled with a little pout, spreading her legs impatiently when he slowly trailed his fingers up the inside of her thighs. He squeezed her thigh, chuckling against her mouth when he leaned in to kiss her, gently pushing his teeth into her pillowy lip.

“But you also want Dean, you said so. I can give you that, it sounds hot.” He tapped the apex of her thigh teasingly, his dick getting harder with the way she squirmed against the wall. The walls vibrated from the loud music, the pictures and paintings on the wall shaking to the bass of the music. “So.. Do you want Dean, just for tonight? Then, we can see if we should do it more often…”

“Jensen, please,” she pleaded, twisting her hands impatiently, half-heartedly trying to get out of his grip.

“Mm-mm,” he shook his head, quickly swiping two fingers through her wet folds. “It’s Dean, sweetheart.” His voice dropped slightly and his accent suddenly went away. She stared up at him, flustered and hot.

“D-Dean?” She stuttered shyly, grinding down on his fingers.

“Just.. a little more confident,” he smirked, moving his fingers to circle her clit torturously. She gasped, letting her head fall back against the wall with a quiet thud. The leather tightened around her thighs, preventing her from spreading her legs and she whined.

“Please,” she begged again, jutting her hips out so he’d stop teasing her.

“Not until you say my name, baby,” he murmured, then tapped her clit with his fingers a few times. She groaned in annoyance, her toes curling inside the boots she wore, her newly-dyed copper hair sticking to her face, from sweat that built up among the dancing people and now with Jensen’s teasing.

He pulled his hand away, but she didn’t stop squirming. Her eyes fluttered shut, thinking he’d stop teasing her by touching her and instead tease her by not touching her, but she gasped when he slapped her pussy. Her eyes snapped open and she looked up at him in surprise, a smug smile on his pink face.

She liked it and he knew it.

“Be a good girl and beg for it,” he mumbled, his voice deep and vibrating. When he rubbed his fingers against her heat, she knew it was just to prepare her for another slap. And as she’d expected, when she took too long to respond, he slapped her wet cunt again. The rough slap sent jolts of pleasure through her clit, causing her to moan.

“Please… Dean,” she whispered.

“That wasn’t so hard,” he praised mockingly, bringing two fingers to her entrance, “was it?” He slowly pushed them into her, but his lip to stop a moan when he felt her pussy clench around his fingers.

“No.. Dean,” she panted, lowering her hips to sink down his fingers faster. He laughed quietly at her eagerness and started to pump his fingers in and out of her, her slick already coating most of his fist.

“Jesus, baby, you’re so fucking wet.” He sounded breathless, his fingers tightened around her wrists and he plunged his fingers into her faster, flattening his palm onto her clit so it would grind onto it every time his fingers were buried deep inside her. His fingers curled against her walls, brushing over and over against the spongy surface inside that made her legs shake. A loud moan tore from her throat and he pressed his hips against her to grind his cock against her. “Who made you this wet, huh, sweetheart?”

“You…” she moaned, whining when he bit her jawline. “You, Dean,” she cried softly. He kissed her jaw lovingly and found her lips again to silence her moans as best as he could, even if no one could hear them over the loud music downstairs.

“Are you gonna cum on my fingers?” He teased, his warm breath fanning over her face. She bit her lip and nodded, her pussy tightening around his fingers. “You’re gonna moan my name when you cum,” he ordered, his nose tracing down the side of her face, nuzzling her neck to suck gently at her pulse point. “Say yes,” he murmured, gently nibbling on her earlobe.

“Yes, Dean,” she panted, shuddering when his warm breath made her sweat feel cool. He pulled away when he noticed her becoming tense, stared at her face and watched her eyes flutter open on cue.

“Cum for me, baby,” he whispered, admiring the way her swollen lips parted to moan—squeal—‘Dean’, her brows furrowed in pleasure as her orgasm moved through her body. Her eyes were pretty and wide, glossed over with a haze of lust and whiny unshed tears.

He let go of her wrists but she only wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and brought him down for a passionate kiss that made him breathless. Behind his eyelids, he could still see that beautiful look on her face and he ground his hips against her thigh, wrapping his arm around her with his fingers now slowly moving in and out of her, gently palming her clit as her walls fluttered around his fingers.

When she came down from her orgasm, he gently continued to palm her clit, in a comforting manner now. He dropped kisses over her face and moved her hair out of her face lovingly, before withdrawing both from her cunt and from her body to admire her postorgasmic glow.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said softly, his eyes flickering down to watch her lift her pants up her weak and shaky legs. “I’m not done with you yet, angel,” he reminded her with a little chuckle, looking down at his cum covered fingers, he rubbed them together curiously.

“We both know Dean is a sub,” she grabbed him by his flannel and pulled him into the closest room. He smirked at her words and let her lead as she shut the door and locked it blindly, focused on the searing kiss she distracted him with. With one hand he grabbed her waist and with the other he started to undo his belt eagerly.

taglist

@lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @candy-coated-misery0731 @kellynickelss @spnfamily-j2 @deansbbyx

main masterlist

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© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[welldonebeca]

the cabin in the woods **

Summary: You accept a friend's invitation to spend a week in her cousin's cabin in the woods. When you end up summoning a pair of psycho brothers who want to "exorcise" you of your "demons", things get a little bit complicated. (Horror/Monster AU inspired by "Cabin in the woods") Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader x Dean Winchester Warnings: Horror, death, monsters, death, eventual smut, lots of comedy in between to lighten the mood. Reader is kinda Brazilian, definitively latina. Patreon fic.

Masterlist 

You tried to keep your ugly looks to yourself as you sat squeezed in the middle seat of  the way-too-little car you’d been stuffed into for the last two hours.

Gwen’s cousin had a cabin in the woods and he had given her to keys to spend Halloween there.

Something very wrong had to be happening in your life to make you accept this invitation, but life in campus was exhausting and you just wanted a minute of peace to smoke and do nothing.

“Don’t be so grumpy, we’ll be there soon,” Enid mumbled, not even raising her eyes from her kindle.

“I didn’t say anything,” you crossed your arms.

Lucy chuckled on your other side, raising her eyes from her phone.

“You’re hungry,” she reminded you. “You always get grumpy when you are hungry.”

You sighed, glancing at the front seats. Gwen was deep into her survival reading, because one can never be too prepared, and Vicky was driving, and the two probably weren’t even hearing you over the sound of Guts being played  - which didn’t let you sleep, but who is pointing fingers?

You threw your head back, annoyed.

“The cabin!” Vicky announced over the music.

You looked up, eager, so glad that it was fucking over, and she sped up as everyone in the car cheered loudly.

Suddenly, Vicky slammed the breaks, and you could feel the seatbelt just digging into your shoulder and hipbone.

What the fuck?!

“Victoria!” you kicked her seat.

She laughed aloud, stopping the car, and the song was interrupted.

“Sorry!”

You rolled your eyes, and Gwen looked back in your direction.

“Can someone please feed her?” she unbuckled her seatbelt, practically kicking her door open. “Oh, my back. My poor back!”

They opened the doors, leaving you alone in the car, and fell lied on the seat, letting out a long breath.

Everyone started taking their things out of the car, and you waited a minute. You were the first to pack, and that meant your stuff was practically hidden in there.

“Hey, lazy princess,” Lucy knocked on the window. “Are you going to sleep in the car, now?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hand, and heard her opening the door, lifting your legs for her to fit in the car.

“Hey,” she called, reaching for your hand.

You pouted and Lucy patted your knee.

“You know Vicky can get… very Vicky,” she reminded you. “I can talk to her if you want to.”

All you could let out was a long groan before shaking your head, at last.

“It’s fine, I don’t want to cause drama,” you rubbed your eyes. “But thanks.”

Okay, so, you weren’t a friend group.

You were friends with Gwen, Lucy and a little bit with Enid. You know knew Vicky.

But Gwen was friends with all of you, and Vicky was friends with Gwen and Lucy, and Lucy was best friends with Enid.

So your connections were… varying.

And you were hungry! You were starving!

Lucy walked back, and then you felt something being thrown at your lap, gasping when it landed on your lap.

“Eat, Grinch,” Gwen stuck her tongue out at you. “We’re gonna get started inside. Don’t dirty the car.”

She walked off, and you unwrapped the thick cold sandwich, probably saved in one of those travelling containers, as the other three walked inside, and Lucy waited for your thumbs-up before following them along, and you watched them enter the house.

You were in your second bite when you started looking around, and the place was fucking creepy – even in daylight.

There were no street lights. Actually, there were no street, it was a trail clearly made for a car – you’d left any asphalt 30 minutes ago.

You’d be surprised if anyone got any phone sign inside that thing.

You were surprised it had electricity and running water!

This was going to be quite the interesting vacation.

. . .

"the cabin in the woods" is a Patreon Halloween fic! To read it now, subscribe to my page, it's just $2 a month and I post 6x a week.

. . .

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[talltalesandbedtimestories]

Midnight Espresso [Podfic Version]

Happiest of birthdays to SPN FanFic Pond member @zepskies (Zeppelin_Skies on AO3)! I’m honored she enjoyed my take on her story “Smoke Eater” (Chapter 1) enough to pick another narration for her birthday gift prize! This go-round, I’m tackling “Midnight Espresso.” I apologize in advance for my Spanish! Dean would not be impressed. But, all that aside, it’s a great hunters-to-lovers fic. Have a listen!

Visit the story on tumblr or AO3 and don’t forget to give it some love! 

Learn more about SPN FanFic Pond and become a part of this amazing community of fanfic writers and readers: https://spnfanficpond.tumblr.com

~ Sandra

~~~~~

Supernatural Fandom

Rated Mature (NSFW)

Dean Winchester/Reader

Summary:

You’ve never taken Dean’s flirting seriously…until he asks you for an impromptu Spanish lesson.

[Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader]

~~~~~

Subject Matter Disclaimer:  This podfic contains adult material of a sexual and graphic nature. Listener discretion is advised, and be mindful of the tags. Feel free to hop out of the backseat if that’s not your thing. Dean won’t hold it against you. More than likely, he or Sam or some other SPN character or any number of character combinations will be too busy holding other things against others to give it a second thought. If you’ve buckled up and are ready for the drive, please check your Bluetooth connections and/or plug in those headphones before the engine starts.

By proceeding, you understand that @idlingintheimpalapodcast is not responsible for any embarrassment, cringe, or adverse consequences that may occur as a result of the listener failing to conduct these checks.

[fatalitysficbakery]

𓆰♥︎𓆪 Fatality’s Fic Bakery Masterlist; Multifandomed & OC Menu Updated 12•30•23 𓆰♡︎𓆪

↳ A Multifandom blog, that caters to less represented. Mainly black women but other poc and minorities as well.

↳ CHECK THE RULE LIST. Highly important to check my rule post before requesting ANYTHING.

↳ ❦ Fatalitysficbakery navigation menu ❦.

↳ ❦ Fatalitysficbakery rules + drabble menu ❦.

↳ ❦ Fatalitysficbakery requests guidelines menu ❦.

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𓆰♡︎𓆪 Welcome To The Bakery 𓆰♡︎𓆪

series (☀︎︎) oneshots (☦︎︎) smut (✞)

fluff (☻︎) angst (☹︎)

two parters (♫)

reactions (❥) headcanons (☠︎︎)

drabbles (☾)

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𓆰♥︎𓆪 First Kill Menu 𓆰♥︎𓆪

↳ Talia Burns.

coming soon!!

↳ Calliope “Cal” Burns.

Runaways. (☦︎︎-☹︎-☻︎) x Black Fem!Reader

Warnings; Mentions of abuse, manipulation, favoritism, etc.

Synopsis; You and Cal have had enough.

↳ Next Ep; Not Giving In. (☀︎︎-☹︎-☻︎) (coming soon!!)

warnings: violence, blood, character death.

synopsis: talia and margot set out to find you and Cal.

↳ Elinor Fairmont.

coming soon!!

↳ Juliette Fairmont.

coming soon!!

↳ Margot Fairmont.

coming soon!!

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𓆰♡︎𓆪 Euphoria Menu 𓆰♡︎𓆪

↳ Rue Bennet/Zendaya Coleman.

The End Of An Era. (Ep. 1) (☀︎︎ - ☹︎ - ☻︎) x Black Fem!Reader

Warnings; Sapphic BS.

Synopsis; I could feel your love fading.

↳ Leslie Bennet/Nika King.

coming soon!!

↳ Maddy Perez.

coming soon!!

↳ Lexi Howard/Maude Apatow.

coming soon!!

↳ Jules Vaughn.

coming soon!!

↳ Gia Bennet.

coming soon!!

↳ Faye/Chloe Cherry.

coming soon!!

↳ Cassie Howard.

coming soon!!

↳ Fezco.

coming soon!!

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𓆰♥︎𓆪 In The Heights Menu 𓆰♥︎𓆪

↳ Nina Rosario

coming soon!!

↳ Vanessa.

coming soon!!

↳ Usnavi De La Vega.

Ghosts Of A Lover Unknown (☦︎︎ - ☾ - ☹︎) x Latina Fem!Y/n

Warnings; very very sad usnavi, worried sonny, insomnia, hints of past life themes, if everything is in italics, it means it’s a flashback!, open ended (interpretation is up to you).

Synopsis; #3 “If our empty bedroom bothers you so much maybe try sleeping in it one day, Blank”.

Nina’s Little Sister (☦︎︎ - ☾ - ☻︎) x Afro-Latina Fem!Y/n

warnings: none. fluffy bullshit.

synopsis: 11. “d-did it hurt when heaven fell? I mean- when you…fuck. Anyway, i’m blank and that was humiliating. let’s start over”?

↳ Benny.

coming soon!!

↳ Sonny De La Vega.

Nose Goes. (☦︎︎ - ☾ - ☻︎) x Afro-Latina Fem!Y/n

Warnings: So sweet it gives cavities.

Synopsis; #13 “Baking Gone Wrong”.

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𓆰♥︎𓆪 Supernatural Menu 𓆰♥︎𓆪

↳ Charlie Bradbury.

coming soon!!

↳ Sam Winchester.

Siri Play Hot N Cold By Katy Perry. (☦︎︎ - ☹︎-ish - ☻︎ - ✞) x Black Fem!Y/n

Warnings; Siren!Reader. Murderous kids, demons n shit, hungry!cas, man starved!sam, woman dehydrated!reader, basically woman sam!reader, over it!dean, needy sex, straight to the point, soft love making.

Synopsis; You and the Winchester brothers have been friends and partners for years, especially you and Sam— You’ve been their hand to hold and guide through the supernatural world since you’re apart of it. You and Sam have loved each other since forever, in secret of course. After a big blowout between the two of you, Dean is fed up and sends you both on a mission…Alone. Will years of pent up frustration and hidden love finally be revealed?

↳ Dean Winchester.

coming soon!!

↳ Castiel “Cas”.

coming soon!!

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𓆰♥︎𓆪 Girl From Nowhere Menu 𓆰♥︎𓆪

↳ Nanno.

coming soon!!

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𓆰♡︎𓆪 Heathers Menu 𓆰♡︎𓆪

↳ Jason “J.D” Dean.

coming soon!!

↳ Vanessa Sawyer.

coming soon!!

↳ Heather Chandler.

coming soon!!

↳ Heather Mcnamara.

coming soon!!

↳ Heather Duke.

coming soon!!

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𓆰♥︎𓆪 Original Character/Side Fics Menu 𓆰♥︎𓆪

↳ Selina Di’ortéz

coming soon!!

↳ Azael Di’ortéz

coming soon!!

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𓆰♡︎𓆪 DC 𓆰♡︎𓆪

↳ Harley Quinn (Harleen Quinzel)

coming soon!!

↳ Poison Ivy (Pamela Isley).

coming soon!!

↳ Catwoman (Selina Kyle).

How Familiar A Face. Selina Kyle (☦︎︎ - ☹︎ - ✞ - ☻︎) x Black Fem!Y/n (Aka Dré’s Birthday Fic)

Warnings: childhood friends to lovers, pup!y/n, kitty!selina, sub!y/n, dom!selina, brat/brat tamer, sexual harassment, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, overstimulation, oral, degradation, praise, dumbification, size kink, yandere themes, slight noncon/dubcon, sadism/masochism, blood kink, knife kink, pain kink, tears of…well, you be the judge, oh and fingering :)

Synopsis: selina hates playing hero but she doesn’t mind it. what happens when she has to save a familiar face from a group of men?

Confessions Of Sin. Selina Kyle (☦︎︎ - ✞ - sprinkle of - ☹︎ - ☻︎) x Black Fem!Y/n (aka dre’s second annual birthday fic.)

warnings: vampire!selina, hybrid!y/n (wolf/witch), g!p (selina), degradation, stalking, slight dub-con, mating, sadism, masochism, mommy kink, slight!puppy play, intercourse, slight fingering.

synopsis: she’s been watching you.

Empty Planet. Selina Kyle (☦︎︎ - ✞ - (???) - ☻︎ - ☹︎) x Black Fem!Y/n

warnings: slight religious trauma, end of the world au, grief, death, apocalypse, oral (reader!receiving), tribbing, soft dom!selina, sub!y/n, depression mentions, sweet sapphic bs.

synopsis: opposite lifestyles lead two people together in a time of crisis.

↳ Starfire (Koriand’r).

coming soon!!

↳ Raven.

coming soon!!

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will be making a part two to this list.

This List will be updated regularly as I go on. Enjoy the baked goods in Fatality’s Fic Bakery! 🥖🥐🥯🍞🥨🥮🧁🍧🍨🍯

[unfortunate-brat]

Obsession

Pairing: Deanmon x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Dean can’t stop thinking about Y/N, the way her lips look wrapped around his length, to how her tits bounce with every thrust and how sweet her pussy tastes on his tongue. Every waking and sleeping second is spent on Y/N, though Deanmon can’t see it as a problem, one might just call it outright obsession. A perverted one indeed

Warnings: unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, DARK FIC!, Rape, non dub con, non con, lewd videos, oral sex, blow job, perverted fantasies, drinking whiskey from breasts, male masturbation, unhealthy obsession, stalker!deanmon, violence, threatening, mentions of torture, Daddy!kink, slight breeding kink, twisted Dean, daydreams, blending of reality & fantasy, cussing, creepy moments

Fetish |  Patreon | Kofi | My Masterlist

“ That’s it, keep going sweetheart.” The demon’s dark eyes watch as the woman takes him whole, cheeks hallowed out and doe eyes on him. Wearing nothing but a red thong and heart pasties, feet still in her heels and make up starting to smear from his hand. “ Just born to suck on my fucking cock huh?”

The things this woman could do with her tongue, and those lips, oh it drove the demon insane! The way her mouth parted as he fucked into her womb, marking up the once beautiful skin to his own canvas covered in red paint. How her body immediately submitted to him when he requested, Chuck knew what he was doing when making this woman.

Yes, everything was tailored right down to this moment. This recurring moment of having her impaled on his thick cock, mewl after mewl escaping her as he sucked on her breasts. Smacking the flesh before going back, the liquid inside dripping down his chin. “ You know human me would have never, ever lived to see actual whiskey in tits and drink from it. Right from his favorite source. Too weak of a man to take what he wanted but baby,” His eyes flash to black. “ I’m better now, and this body is mine for the taking. Right sweetheart?”

And as he looks up, Y/N’s face greets him with a groan. “ Yes, my body is yours.”

“ Nuh Uh, how did I train you to talk sweetheart? You’re forgetting your special word.” His palm collided against her ass cheek and the sting raced down to her core.

“ Yes, my body is yours Daddy.”

The demon lets out a loud chuckle, “ Now that’s more like it! See how good it feels to listen to me? Betcha life was shit before I came and rescued my babygirl, gave her a purpose again and a fat cock to worship. Didn’t I?”

“ Y-Yes Daddy.”

“ And folks she hits a home run again, what a lucky gal. Now I’m not quite done with these toys so you hold on tight for me gorgeous, cause this ride is about to get bumpy.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

“ Dean!”

“ What?!” His response is that of an angsty teen, yelling back after being disturbed by an annoying parent for some silly chore. It’s how the demon looked at Crowley, thinking nothing but negative thoughts about the King of Hell.

With pants put on, noting to do something later, he walks into the corridors of the land below, and no not the lovely home of an Aussie. Used to the screams of torment of millions upon millions of souls, crying out in agony for any help at all. Dean recalled for a brief second that his voice once joined them, feeling powerless under the extensive torture of Alastair, the same man who also gave him a new power. Darkness.

Inside the throne room, he stares down at the other demons, who cower before the male, aware of his growing strength and then scurry away. Much to the their King’s disliking though it gives them an open opportunity to speak.

“ How about we go on another field trip Dean? A new bar, new broads, a couple games of pool.” He doesn’t mind the time having quality bonds with one another, but knows it’s to keep the newly appointed knight of hell within control, on so called leash. The other demons, they whispered along the corridors of a time where Crowley would be overthrown by his own monster, the man he helped bring back to work under his reign. Just rumors really, but a King can never be too careful and this one made sure to cover all loose ends.

“ You called me all the way over here just to hang out?” The demon rolled his eyes, of course Crowley wanted to keep him around just in case. Dean wasn’t stupid, he can smell the fear of being overthrown by his own Frankenstein and did the demon care? No. Besides, if Crowley was overthrown, he was gonna do it right.

“ Why not? Did you have any better plans?” Crowley held his head high, acting as if Deanmon could be replaced with anyone if rejected. It’s a reverse psychology used on children but it’s not like Dean was acting any more mature than one. Perverted was already on the list, you couldn’t pay Crowley a thousand dollars to barge into his room or to witness what the creep could be dreaming. He knew, oh he knew what and who Deanmon was obsessing over. Practically turning into an animal just to chase the dream of having her by his side. The usual cut out of Playboy all had their faces replaced by Y/N herself. Pictures he snapped and cup out from the original photo, tapped on while Dean most likely jerked off to it.

Requesting the best television from the demons just to watch the so called “ movies ” he had when Crowley had discovered them to be recordings, and not just any. Some of Y/N getting dressed, others while she slept and the most disturbing of them all, Dean playing with her sleeping body. Curling his thick digits inside as soft whimpers fell from her mouth. Tongue lapping at the mess and ripping her panties off, only to be found under the demon’s pillow. A true monster in the making and Crowley wasn’t one to worry over humans but for Y/N, he felt as though something needed to be done to pretty her life.

“ That’s my business Crowley but last time I checked,” The demon stalks closer, leaning in to grab at his shirt collar, raising a brow. “ Being brought back as a demon, I didn’t consent to being your best friend. So do me a favor, if you call for me, making sure it’s important.” And with that, Dean let’s go with a chilling smirk, making Crowley’s skin prickle with goosebumps if his corpse wasn’t dead but could sense them form anyways as the knight leaves the room. Forcing the King to do a reality check, Dean Winchester was gone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

He finds himself at the foot of her bed, looking at her sleeping form with a sigh. She chose to wear nothing to bed, just how the demon liked it best, though missed the fun of pulling the lace to the side and have his way.

For the first time, Dean leaned over, caressing her cheek softly with a soft promise on his lips. “ I’ll make you mine soon sweetheart, don’t you worry.” Those same fingers that were gentle a moment ago had made their familial path down to her core, right there for the taking. Making it all too easy for his two thick digits to push in, working her open and nose get hit with the scent of her sweet arousal.

He has to taste her, and spotting the bottle of gummies in the corner, knows the woman would be too asleep to notice. Going in for the kill, his digits drill into her core and tongue laps up the taste of her. Never satisfied, always needing more than what was given to him at a time. Slurping and feasting so much he knows Y/N will be sore tomorrow, yet not just from his tongue alone.

Pulling away, he strips, releasing his aching member and stroking the length of steel, thumb smearing the precum over the tip. “ Gonna fill your cunt up with my cum sweetheart, wouldn’t you like that?” The thumb of precum, he uses to gather up more precum and runs it over her lips, letting out a dark chuckle. “ Come on pretty girl, isn’t this what you’ve always wanted? For Daddy to treat you so good?” He lines the head at her entrance, taking a deep breath before pushing in. Immediately bottoming out and drooling as his face comes into contact with her breasts, nipples hardened into pebbles. “ Oh babygirl, you got these all hard because of me?”

He talks as if she’ll speak back to him, despite her sleeping though his fantasies mix in with reality and before realizing what was occurring, sees Y/N smirking back up at him. “ Always wet for you Daddy. You make my pussy feel so good, want you to stuff me up with so much cum please.” She brings her hands over her sensitive breasts, kneading the flesh right before his eyes. “ And while you fuck me, you can have a drink of whiskey from these, just like you always do.”

Growling, he makes the first thrust and latches onto one, though to outsiders she is not awake, Dean is too far into his head to notice the difference. Either way, what mattered was that Y/N was going to be branded as his. “ Damn sweetheart, you’re just spoiling me at this point. Don’t mind if I fucking do.”

His thrusts are powerful, making the bed frame hit the wall repeatedly and though the loud noise might wake up a sleeping form, Y/N is still out cold. Though despite unconscious, Dean can feel how tight her pussy grips him, greedy in how it swallowed his dick whole as more arousal leaked out of her cunt. Made to fit around him like a glove. “ Fuck babygirl, tighter than a virgin. Just how I like ya, and remember, who does this cunt belong to?”

He spreads her legs open as wide as they’ll go, balls slapping against the globes of her ass as Dean chases at his approaching orgasm. “ This is Daddy’s cunt, his cunt alone. No one else can touch.”

Seemingly so close yet still lacking a portion to travel. “ Good girl, so obedient for me today. How about I fuck you seven ways to Sunday huh? Against the window for all the neighbors to see that I’m the only one who makes you feel this good. No one else. You want that?”  He grips on tit in his hand, the flesh sitting nicely in his palm as she squeals a yes, so quick to respond and it drove him mad with lust.

“ Gonna overthrow that bastard of a King and become superior babygirl. You’ll be my beautiful Queen, tending to my every fucking need. Even when I need my cock sucked by those lips.” He kisses them, growling when her inner walls tighten again. “ That’s it, want you to coat my dick in your juices, I want it all.”

Yet what the demon failed to realize was that sometimes, the things we want are meant to be desired for a reason. To be left behind someday and not taken advantage of, not forcibly taking into one’s own hands outs of selfish and obsessive needs. Just as Deanmon was pounding away into Y/N’s cunt now.

This unsatisfied monster he had become has taken too much control, humanizing and restoring the former hunter that resided could mean death. Too much guilt to process, the chance of being so disgusted with one self, they can’t bear to be standing much longer. It’s not right, what Deanmon was doing was far beyond the path of righteousness. This wasn’t who he was meant to be, what the Michael sword was supposed to be doing. Yet as a God who left his children behind to fend for themselves, Dean continues to drown in sin. With no way out for himself.

As he lays claim to the woman in the bed, Dean watches the cum ooze out of her abused hole, though he scoops it with a finger to push back in. “ Nuh Uh, if I want to have an heir someday, you’re gonna have to keep all my seed in sweetheart.” With care, in a twisted element, he has her close both legs, kissing her pearl before pulling the blanket over the Y/N’s sleeping form with a sly grin. “ Sleep tight, you’ll need to be well rested for your King when he rescues you from this miserable life.” And like the howl of the wind outside, thunder rumbling in the distance, Dean disappears. Promise to return echoed into the air.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

WANT TO SUPPORT ME?

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[assonyaa]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ Star’s Masterlist

Please refrain from reposting! Thank you.

Aaron Taylor Johnson:

Neck-rophiliac | Tangerine (NSFW) (Coming Soon)

Jensen Ackles:

The Holy Trinity | Dean Winchester (MA) (Coming Soon)

Matt Sturniolo:

Just Friends | Matt Sturniolo (Coming Soon)

Prompts:

Click here for prompt list <3

Requests:

Any requests are accepted!

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀:¨ ·.· ¨:

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ `· . ꔫ

-There will, of course, be updates on Masterlist as I continue to post more.

[cluz1babe]

STSF EP 2 CH 5

Y/N and Dean entered the bunker and Dean drunkenly took her on a tour. She was sober, but finding his inebriation amusing. He was pointing out things she’d already seen or at least knew what they were. She began leading him at some point, but he didn’t seem to notice until they came to a set of large doors.

“What is this?” He asked, confused and lost.

“I don’t know. Let’s find out.” Y/N pulled both doors, surprising Dean with her strength. The doors opened to a cave-like room.

“How did you find this?”

“You didn’t know this was here?” Y/N asked in astonishment. “Well, you know how I find things.”

“Uh, no. I had no clue there was a bat cave in the bunker. Lived here ten years, but we’ve never come across this room.”

“So what is this? A Bunker of Requirement?”

“Huh?”

“It’s a…Harry Potter thing. In Hogwarts there’s a secret room you go into and it gives you whatever you require at that particular time. Of course, you have to ask for exactly what you want and leave out loopholes.”

“Did you ask for a pool?”

“I always hope for a pool.”

“Well, then… I wouldn’t be surprised if we did live in that type of place. It does run on magic.” He looked around and stepped close to Y/N. “D’ya wanna get in?” Dean started removing one of his shirts.

She chuckled, “You’re in no shape to get into more than an inch of water at a time.”

They made their way back to the kitchen for a snack. “So whattya want? Sandwich? Cocoa?”

“Pie, bacon, eggs…” Dean spoke, listing foods he wanted to eat. “You.”

She rolled her eyes, “We’ll start with toast.”

As soon as Y/N reached for the bag of bread, Dean twirled her around and kissed her.

After a few seconds of savoring his mouth, she pushed him away and sucked on her bottom lip. The flavor of the whiskey Dean had been drinking was present. Smokey and burning her tongue, as if he literally just drank it. She wanted so badly to keep kissing him, but she stepped away from him.

“Wuss’wrong?” He asked in slurred speech.

“I just don’t feel like it.”

“A’right. I dunno know what I did to upset you.”

“I’m just not what you’re looking for.”

“Are you kidding me?” He pulled her by the hips to bring her body close. “I want nothing more than to take these clothes off of you and fuck you right here.” He leaned in again and tried to kiss her, but she turned her head.

She avoided his lips when he tried to kiss her again. “You made it pretty clear, earlier, that this isn’t what you want.”

“Whatever it was… Who cares about what I said earlier? This is right now.”

“Dean, you’re drunk.” She explained. “I had to drive here.”

His hands loosened, “I let you drive my Baby?”

“You didn’t have a choice. I sober up quickly.”

He grabbed her waist and held her tight. “You wanna go back to the garage? We can do it in the car.”

Y/N scowled at his question and found a sturdy surface to let him lean on, pried his hands off, then she let him go. “Look, I know you’re not a total dick, so stop. No matter what, tomorrow you’ll forget this happened. If you wake up next to me... Nevermind, I wouldn’t wake up next to you.” She pivoted her thoughts, “Either way, sooner or later you’ll figure out what happened and you’ll most likely regret it. I don’t want to be anybody’s regret, nor do I plan on taking advantage.”

“Take advantage, Y/N, please.” He insisted, playfully, at first. But when she stepped further away, he lashed out. “You think it would be the first time?”

“I don’t care if it would be the millionth time. I don’t want to.”

“Wanted to have fun tonight. I thought you did, too!”

“I did have fun.” She stated, feeling the anger well up inside of her.

“You just don’t wanna fuck me anymore?!”

“Well, definitely not now! Not ever!” She started walking away then whipped around, a look of disgust on her face that could haunt him forever. “What’s gotten into you?” She retreated from the kitchen and headed to her room.

It was four and a half weeks later when Dean and Sam were at the grocery store. They walked around looking for all the things on their list. Dean seemed to be acting normal, until he eyed the pie, but didn’t pick it up. Sam knew something was off. “Okay, what’s up?”

“Whattya mean?”

“Dean, I know when something’s wrong. Can’t remember the last time you didn’t pick up the pie.” Sam watched him try to cover it up by grabbing other foods he’d normally eat, including the pie. “Something’s definitely wrong with you.”

“I knew it was a bad idea to bring her with us.”

“Who?”

“Y/N.”

Sam’s large hand shot to wrap his forehead and massage for the oncoming headache. Y/N had been avoiding spending much time with Dean. This conversation about Y/N and relationships always led to Dean getting defensive and the subject irked Sam more than it helped whatever situation Dean had caused. “I’m not in the mood for this now and this is hardly the place.”

“We haven’t figured anything out and she’s been on one hunt with us since she moved in.”

“You’re the one who insisted we help her. What’s the real reason?” Sam asked.

“I’ve been thinkin’ a lot about tryin’ to start somethin’ up with her.” Dean noticed the surprise on Sam’s face. “She makes me feel 15 years younger.”

“You sure that’s not because she’s 15 years younger than you?” “She’s not that much younger. Anyway, it doesn’t matter because I don’t think I can.”

Stunned, Sam asked, “Why?”

“She’s just not right for me. Besides, I’d have to wait until we were done helping her to make a move. Don’t shit where ya eat, ya know?”

“That hasn’t stopped you before. Ever, actually.”

“Well, it’s time I grow up and look for someone my own age.”

Thinking about the last month and the tension between Dean & Y/N, as well as She and Castiel spending more time together, Sam sighed. “Are you sure this doesn’t have anything to do with Cas spending more time with her?”

“Do you know somethin’ I don’t?” Dean asked with one brow raised.

“No. It’s just... It’s your fault she’s avoiding you. You pushed them to spend more time together and get to know each other. Maybe you’re worried they’ve developed feelings. She wanted to help and Castiel picked up in your place, showing her how this whole operation works. Them spending time on research and the odd errand has caused you to completely lose your focus.”

“What? No.”

“Does this have anything to with what I said?”

“Oh, you mean when you said it’s been a decade since I was in a relationship?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “That was weeks ago, Dean. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Stop. It’s not what ya said. It’s true. Fact is, I shouldn’t be jumping into anything. It’s not like me. When something’s off about either of us, we know better than anyone that the first place to look is whatever’s new. Something that’s changed. Y/N is that thing.”

“You sayin’ you want her gone?”

“No.” Dean looked in the basket, his focus totally off again. “Really?” “What?”

He picked up the bread to show to Sam. “This bread? Grains, seeds, and nuts? You are not ruining sandwiches for me.”

“Relax,” Sam held up a different basket. “I’ve got your boring bread right here. It’s not just for me. We have to find something that gives Y/N nutrition, instead of pure sugar. If she can’t get protein the way you do, we have to figure something out. Candy and soda aren’t gonna sustain her forever.”

“Maybe. I’m worried about her, Sammy. It’s weird. I mean, I worry about people I don’t know all the time, but something about her…”

“You really are confused. One minute you want her gone, the next you’re worried about her wellbeing.”

“Look, I don’t know what it is. It just feels different. It kind of reminds me of...” He thought back to Lisa. “Nevermind.”

“Maybe that’s what you should talk to her about.”

“Sammy, I’m not gonna to talk about her. I can’t.” He groaned and made sure he had Sam’s attention. “If I talk about Lisa, then it becomes real again. I’ll just end up trackin’ her down and doing something really stupid. She wouldn’t even have a clue who I am.”

“So, your solution is to push it all down?”

“Hey, it’s what I do best.” Dean grabbed a big bag of candy and threw in one of the baskets.

“Dean! What are you doing?”

“I figured if the new diet you’re putting Y/N on doesn’t work out, we’ll need something that satisfies her appetite.”

Sam threw his arms up in defeat. “You better hide all of it until we find out how Y/N does with real food. She’ll probably eat that entire bag in two minutes.”

While the guys were shopping, Castiel watched as Y/N used a tree stump in the surrounding woods as a table, she set out food and gifts, carefully lining them up and presenting them like some photographer trying to find the best sequence for a picture.

He wanted to ask what she was doing, but he was afraid he might be pushing boundaries. The thought of upsetting either her or Dean, made him turn away, ready to go back inside.

“Hello?”

He froze.

��Castiel?” When he finally turned around she was standing a few yards away.

“Uhhh… Hi.”

“Hi… Is something wrong?”

“I was wondering if you would like to…uh…watch a movie?” He panicked and couldn’t think of anything good to say.

“I’ve got something to do, at the moment.”

“What are you so busy doing out here?” He looked past her to the tree stump. His curiosity was on full display.

“Well…” She questioned whether or not she should let him know. “You know how there have been issues in the bunker?” Castiel nodded and she continued, “It might be easier to show you.”

He followed her and she showed him the offerings. Honeycomb, alcohol, fresh bread, herbs, incense.

“What is it for?”

“Oh, I forgot. Take my hand.”

Castiel lightly touched his hand around Y/N’s, trying to find her fingers without looking. When his skin touched hers, he flinched and turned to look at her.

“It’s okay.” She gently interlaced her fingers with his and concentrated.

She hadn’t needed sea water to connect with someone for a week. Everyone suspected it was due to her “meditation”, which was actually just a nice way of saying “hook suspension”. It did help. She was in more control of herself and her powers. It turned out piercing her flesh with hooks and hanging, suspended high above the ground was therapeutic for her.

She said it felt “spiritual”. That’s what they got for taking her on a hunting trip to find a skinwalker at a body modification convention. She was able to show him what she could see. There were creatures flitting back and forth, crawling, walking, flying. Things he had never seen before.

“Amazing. Where did you get the honeycomb?”

“Found it. They prefer it over everything else.”

“How have I never seen this? What are they?”

“Elementals… They help keep this place going. I thought it would be nice to do something for them.” She turned to look at him, intending to attempt answering his question better. Y/N was so surprised by what she saw that she gasped. Luminous, so many eyes, she couldn’t count, and wings. She suddenly let go.

“Y/N. Are you okay?” The genuine concern on Castiel’s face gave her a bit of confidence.

She stared at him again, as if she were trying to will the sight back. Her right hand bravely found the back of his left hand and she held it there. She could see again. She could barely make them out, but his wings were huge and glowed in various colors. Seeing a version of his true form mesmerized her. She smiled up at him. “You’re so beautiful.”

He couldn’t understand why he did it, but he had the urge to lean in closer to her face. Y/N’s eyes temporarily swept down to his lips, then back up to his human eyes.

He was possibly and inch away. She could feel his breath on her lips.

Then there was the sound of the impala driving up to the bunker and both of them seemed to have whatever came over them leave them just as quickly. They awkwardly parted and proceeded to help the boys unload the car.

[zepskies]

A Wish to Build a Dream On

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader

Summary: Dean has been harboring the archangel Michael in his mind for weeks now, putting a strain on your relationship as you struggle to help him. When Dean makes a wish that accidentally brings his father back from the dead, you get to meet the (in)famous John Winchester. But as always with magic, your boyfriend’s wish has unintended consequences.

AN: Welcome back to the Espresso-verse! This is set in 14.13: “Lebanon,” of course, but chronologically in the storyverse, it sits between Show Me and In Bad Weather.

Song Inspo: The story title was inspired by “A Kiss to Build a Dream On” by Louis Armstrong, but the real song inspiration for this is “Come Back Down” by Lifehouse.

Word Count: 7k~

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Spiciness/smuttish, angst, hurt/comfort, hint of body insecurity, and feels. 

Start from the beginning of the series: ⤵️

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Sometimes, even the mundane in a two-year relationship can become new. And not in a good way. 

You and Dean are getting ready for bed, taking turns brushing your teeth. When you’re done, he comes in behind you at the sink and starts up his routine.

As you go to look for the moisturizer you pretend he doesn’t borrow from your nightstand, you watch him from the corner of your eye. Even dressed down in his loose shirt and pajama pants, he seems tired, and tense.  

Maybe because he’s been harboring the archangel Michael in his mind for an entire month. 

You know Dean hasn’t been sleeping well, if at all. Now, he seems to be anticipating another fitful night. It doesn’t sit well with you to see the tension in his shoulders, the lines around his eyes that aren’t from laughing.

You wait until he slips into his side of the bed. Then you turn over and sidle up against him. You prop your elbow against his pillow, so you can look down on him with a smile. His brows twitch upwards.

“Well, hey,” he says. His arm settles around your waist under the covers. You stroke his cheek.

“Hey,” you reply. Though you don’t ask him if he’s all right. You already know the answer. Instead, you dip down for a kiss.

At first it’s just a sweet meeting of lips. You part from him softly, letting your thumb drag back and forth across his prickly cheek. He breathes in deeply and allows himself to savor the touch.

You dive back in again for a deeper taste, finding minty freshness with your tongue. He hums in response. His hold tightens on your waist, while your fingers drift down his neck, down his chest over his shirt. And then, they slip under the worn-out waistband of his sweatpants.

He groans deep in his throat when you stroke up and down the full length of him with a practiced hand. His knee bends on reflex, and he sucks in a breath as pleasure stirs low inside him.

But he stops you, grabbing your wrist gently, but firm.

You break the kiss in confusion. Dean’s eyes are still closed, brows furrowed while he takes deep breaths, as if he’s trying to pull himself back together. Or maybe, maintain a level of self-control.

His green eyes open and find yours in apology.

“Sorry,” he says, pulling your hand out of his pants. “Just uh…not really in the mood.”

You lift up the covers and glance down at the half-pitched tent in his pants with a raised brow.

“You sure about that?” you ask.

He stays quiet, which starts to make you suspicious. You let the covers drop and rest a hand on his chest, where his heart beats at a ticked-up pace.

“It’s been over a month, baby,” you point out. “I know there’s…a lot going on, but this isn’t like you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m tired,” he claims.

You can understand that, to an extent, but intuition tells you that there’s something deeper here. Beyond the lack of intimacy, you’ve been starting to realize just how distant your boyfriend has been with you, even after getting him back from Michael.

Dean doesn’t…touch you anymore. And not just in this bed. As a matter of fact, him holding you right now is some of the closest affection he’s given you in days.

Despite that thought, he actually surprises you by covering your hand on his chest and squeezing your fingers. Likely he’s seen the disappointment and concern across your face.

“Come on. You think I only want you around for sex?” he jokes. It gets you to smile, however slightly.

“Call it a perk of this little arrangement,” you say in a dry tone. 

“Ooh, an arrangement. Sounds kinky,” he quips, with a curve of his lips. 

You smirk and take back your hand from under his. Carding your fingers through his hair, you dip down and start to kiss his neck. 

“I miss you,” you whisper against his warm skin. “But I also want to help you take your mind off it all… Just let me distract you for a while.” 

His eyes briefly close as he lets out a shaky breath, but he stops you for real this time. He holds your cheek and guides you away. His rejection hurts, making your chest sting, but his eyes implore you to let him explain.

“That’s just it,” he says. “I can’t. I can’t risk it.”

Your brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t lose control,” Dean says. His tone is laced with grit and strain. “Michael’s in there, rattling around. He’s either pacing all damn day, or pounding on the walls.”

Dean presses a hand between his eyes, as if that’ll stop the headache that’s already forming. It’s bad enough that the archangel was controlling him for so long, rooting deep in his head and opening every door and shady corner. Thoughts, memories, private moments.

Now, Dean doesn’t know how much Michael sees of the outside world. It’s another reason he’d rather not heed every desire he has to roll you underneath his body and fuck you deep into the mattress. It’s why he hasn’t let himself touch you as often as he wants, as he craves.

Because the truth is, he’s scared. Scared of what might happen if he gets too distracted.

“Sometimes I think I’m gonna lose my fucking mind,” he admits to you, his throat tightening.

He glances back up at you, and finds you weeping. Your lower lip trembles. Guilt hits Dean harder between the ribs when he realizes what he’s been putting you through. What he’s still putting you through. He cups your cheek and wipes away a stray tear.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he says.

You shake your head. “It’s not just that we can’t…it’s that I can’t help you,” you reply, with a tremble in your voice. “I can’t do anything.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say to you, but he knows what he can do. He wraps his arms more securely around you and pulls you against him. You rest your forehead in the crook of his neck and try to calm yourself by taking long, even breaths.

“I wish I could take this from you,” you confess.

He sighs. “I don’t.”

The next morning, Sam and Dean catch a lead on a fellow hunter who was killed by a supernatural artifacts dealer. They mean to track down the dealer.

Instead of going with them, you stay at the bunker and continue to research a way to extract and capture an archangel from a human host. 

Dean doesn’t question your decision; he’s grateful, but still feeling guilty about last night. And part of him doesn’t even know how to move forward with you right now. 

It’s just as well, because you’re not too sure of how to act around Dean either. Your heart breaks every time you look at him, and it was hard to even meet his eyes at breakfast this morning.

Mary is on a hunt nearby as well, but you don’t have the heart to join her when she calls you around noon. After you hang up with her, you realize that you’re feeling sorry for yourself, when the one who’s really suffering is Dean.

For a moment, you take a break from the old book in front of you. Your back is twinging from being hunched over in your research for hours on end in the library. You rub your eyes and let out a sigh, before you lift your gaze heavenward. You doubt your grandmother can hear you up there while she relives her greatest hits, but at this point, you’ll try anything.

Please, you think in Spanish, and even pray. Give me strength. Give him strength.

Sam and Dean return to the bunker after “taking care” of the scumbag dealer. They bring back a number of artifacts, which you’ll have to help them sort through. They pile it all onto the War Room table. 

But they show you one item in particular: the Baozhu, one of eight ancient Chinese treasures. In other words, it’s a pearl that grants your heart’s desire.

Now, in general, you tend to be wary about hoodoo, but Sam has already convinced Dean that it could work. He could wish Michael gone.

They’re both so earnest that you’re willing to go along with it…and let Dean give it a try.

“Are you sure you don’t want to call Mom?” Sam asks him. “Or wait for Cas?”

“No,” Dean replies. “If this mojo works, great. If it doesn’t, then why get their hopes up?”

You agree with that point. In fact, you almost wish you could be Mary or Castiel right now.

Dean notes the look on your face, and he knows you well enough to read what you might be thinking. He turns his attention back to the pearl with determination.

He takes the pouch from Sam’s hand and doesn’t know what to do with it at first, but after little coaching from Sam, Dean takes the pearl in his hand, closes his eyes, and concentrates on his “heart’s desire.”

Michael outta my friggin’ head, he thinks.

The lights in the bunker start to flicker. You and Sam look up in wariness as the magic from the wish knocks out the electricity for a moment, casting the room into darkness mixed with a red glow from the emergency lights.

Sam turns when he spots a shrouded figure out of the corner of his eye—almost as tall as him, a large threatening frame. Sam swings a punch, but the intruder bats at his stomach, then his face with what looks like a crowbar. He goes down hard.

Just as you turn your head, Dean steps in next and gets an elbow to the chin for his trouble, then a swift kick in the stomach that sends him across the room with Sam. The intruder wracks his crowbar, which as it turns out, is actually a shotgun.

“Don’t you move,” he says.

He must not have seen you in the dark. It gives you the opportunity to come up behind him with one of the emergency handguns Dean had taped under the table for exactly this purpose. You tuck the safety back with a click.

“Drop it,” you demand.

The man pauses. He knows you’re there, but he doesn’t yet lower his weapon.

And the lights come back on.

Sam and Dean’s eyes widen when they realize who they’re faced with.  

“Dad?” Dean says incredulously.

John Winchester is just as confused to be in the bunker as his sons are to see him alive, and in the bunker. For John, he thinks it’s 2003. Sam should be at school in Palo Alto, while John’s been hunting with Dean.

John is understandably shocked when Sam tells him that sixteen years have passed.

“I think we summoned you,” Sam says, after he and Dean pick themselves up from the ground.

John takes a beat to try and process, but he has too many questions.

“You boys better tell me what’s going on right now,” he says. Though he turns and notices you after you slip your gun back into the waistband of your jeans and draw closer to Dean, laying a hand on his arm. A subtle look passes between you two.

You good? yours says.

I think so, Dean’s replies. The exchange doesn’t go unnoticed.

“And you are?” John asks. His gaze is focused on you, and the directness of his tone somewhat takes you by surprise. You never thought you would meet John Winchester.

But after you tell him your name, Dean rests a hand at the small of your back.

“She’s my girlfriend,” he says.

Intrigue sparks in John’s eyes, and he nods in response. His mind is probably buzzing with too much information to levy any kind of politeness your way, but it still leaves a tense, awkward atmosphere in its wake.

Sam tries to bridge it by suggesting you all sit at the long table in the War Room to go over what John’s missed. He agrees, though he requests a strong drink first.

Explaining what’s really happening to the older, yet still incredibly spry hunter takes a while. You all do it with a bottle of Jack Daniels split four ways.

“So, you saved the world?” John asks. His whiskey glass is in his hands, and he raises a finger in a “So you mean to tell me” gesture.

“More than once,” Dean admits.

“Then it’s all true. God, the Devil, you boys smack in the middle,” John says. You can see him working through all this, but also with fatherly pride coming through. It would make you smile, if this situation wasn’t so goddamn weird.

“Now you all live in a secret bunker with an angel and Lucifer’s kid,” he continues, and this time, he includes you in his gaze. All you can do is nod with a feeble smile.

Sam and Dean also confirm his summary.

“And you’ve done this whole…time travel thing before?” he asks.

“A few times,” Dean nods. “Actually, our grandfather, your dad…he’s the one that helped us find this place. I think he’d be real happy to know you’re finally here.”

Dean has told you about Henry Winchester, and how John had thought the man abandoned him when he was a child. But now, he seems to understand.

“Right, Man a’ Letters,” he nods.

“Yeah, we’re uh, we’re legacies,” Sam says, giving his father a smile. “Because of you.”

John has to smile back.

The three of them continue to talk for a while, and you mostly keep to yourself. Truth be told, you’re feeling a bit out of place in this moment.

The John you’ve heard stories about is a gruff ex-marine with a “give ‘em hell” attitude. This man has a solid presence, and a gruff voice not unlike Dean’s, but all you see in him is both pride and wonder at everything his sons are telling him about this world he’s been thrust into.

After a little while more, Sam realizes he needs to call someone immediately: his mother.

John’s face falls into shock.

“Mary?” he says. His disbelieving eyes become tinged with hope. “She’s…she’s alive?”

Dean shares a quick look with Sam, who heads out of the room quick to find his phone.

“Yeah, Dad. It’s a long story, but uh…she’s back too,” Dean says, smiling. “Wait ‘til she sees you.”

John’s brows furrow. He looks down at his hands on the table, fighting emotion. You can’t help but feel for him. You notice the empty bottle of whiskey, and without meaning to, you fall into “caretaker mode.”

“Uh, John, you want some water? Or maybe a beer?” you ask, as you start to get up from your seat. Dean looks up at you with a measure of bemusement.

“Beer would be good, thanks,” John says, giving you a small, but sincere smile. Somehow that unbalances you even more, though you smile back.

“Okay, and while I’m at it I think I’d better start dinner,” you say. Mary doesn’t cook, really. Sam is a lost cause too. (The man can barely boil an egg.) So it’s often up to you and Dean to handle the food in this house…bunker…whatever.

Dean disrupts your thoughts by grasping your hand, hoping it’ll steady you.

“You don’t have to, baby,” he says. You perk up with a more genuine smile.

“Oh, I want to! Besides, you guys should keep talking. Catch up,” you say, gesturing between father and son. You squeeze Dean’s hand, then make your quick escape.  

Dean smirks and watches you go. John follows his son’s gaze, then looks back at him in amusement. 

“She a good cook?” he asks. 

Dean raises his brows. “Oh, just you wait. She makes this beef stew thing, ropa vieja? Ridiculous. And a pork roast like you wouldn’t friggin’ believe.”

John chuckles. “Latina, huh?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Dean grins.  

“Nice,” his father nods with another short laugh. But it evens out into a certain smile. “How long’ve you two been together?”

Dean mentally counts it back. You often calculate it from the first time he officially asked you out for a nice dinner here in town. He likes to count it from that very first night he finally got a taste of your sweet café con leche…in more ways than one.

“Two years and some change. Almost three,” he says. John gives a low whistle.

“Look at you,” he remarks. And he seems pleased, with a gleam in his eyes that warms Dean deep inside. “Good for you, son. Glad to see you’ve got someone to hold you down.”

Dean sobers at that. He glances down at his empty glass of whiskey.

“Yeah,” he says. “You don’t know how much.”

It’s a good thing you went grocery shopping yesterday, or else you’d be shit out of luck trying to put something together for dinner. There happened to be a sale going on in the seafood section, so you find that you have everything you need to make a Spanish paella.

You get to chopping the onions, bell peppers, garlic, tomato, and parsley first before anything else. While that starts sautéing in the pan, you break out the chicken, shrimp, and mussels from their individually wrapped packages.

You continue according to the recipe you have in your mind’s eye—the one your grandma instilled in you. She’d learned it from her half-Spanish mother when she was a kid.

Cooking is one of those things that allows you to reset your mind. It’s like how Dean is when he sits down to tune up his car, or Sam when he reads a new book. You can just zero in and focus on the task at hand, and it allows you to put the rest of the chaos out of your head for a while. Plus, you just like feeding people.

Sometimes though, the task of whipping up a hot meal just gives you time to think. And right about now, you’re still reeling.

On one hand, you’re so happy for Sam and Dean. And of course for Mary, who’s about to get her entire world flipped upside down. You have so many questions for John Winchester…but not all of them would be pleasant.

You have to try to push that part down, for Dean’s sake. He’s just gotten his father back. He doesn’t need you adding even more onto his load.

There’s a knock on the open door of the kitchen that pulls you out of your thoughts. You raise your head and look over your shoulder. John is there with an empty beer bottle, which he raises in greeting.

You give him a small smile. “Hope you’re getting hungry.”

“With that smell, who wouldn’t?” he says, drawing near enough to lean against the counter next to you. He answers your unspoken question. “Dean’s lookin’ for some pictures to show me.”

You nod at that. “Yeah, he has a few good ones, and some are new. I’m sure you’ll like to see them.”

John nods and regards you with curiosity. He wants to know more about the woman in his son’s life, but he’s not too sure where to start.

“So you’re a hunter too?” he asks.

“Yep. Not for as long as Dean, but long enough,” you reply. It’s tinged with the knowledge that no hunter should’ve been as young as Dean when they started, but you keep that thought deep inside.

“How’d you two meet?” John asks.

Your lips twitch at a smile. You tell him the story of how you’d met Dean at a dirty bar in Las Cruces, New Mexico. Dean hadn’t realized you were a hunter at first when he watched you hustle some guy at pool.

He set you in his sights, flirted with you, and you probably would’ve let him take it further if you hadn’t stunned him with the knowledge that you, Sam, and Dean happened to be in town working the same case. From that day on, the three of you had become allies and friends.

You and Dean just hadn’t become you and Dean for a long time after that. Too long, if you were honest. But, it’s all worked out so far. This is the longest relationship both of you have been in, pretty much ever.

There’s a lull of silence that falls between you and John after you finish the story. It’s not altogether comfortable, and he realizes that when he watches you putter about the kitchen while you cook. You’re trying to busy yourself.

“This must be one hell of a strange day for you,” he says.

Your head perks up, and you have to smile wryly. “Our lives are built on strange.”

John’s chuckle concedes your point. But you look over at him thoughtfully and set down your wooden spoon.

“Could I, um…could I ask you something?” you ask.

He nods at you. “Sure.”

Maybe you shouldn’t, but you really can’t help yourself.

“We don’t know each other well,” you begin. “But, knowing what you know now, about Sam and Dean and everything they’ve gone through… If you could go back, would you change anything?”

John tilts his head at you, like he’s trying to read through the lines in your words. It reminds you of Sam.

“You mean, would I do things differently?” he asks. “From what point?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. From the point in time you can remember, with Sam in college. Or maybe further back…from when they were kids.”

You try your best not to make it sound like a leading question, but you don’t think you’ve disguised it well enough. John stares back at you, as if the lines are now connecting in his mind.

He sees you're well-meaning. Despite your best efforts though, he knows you're accusing him of something. And he thinks you have some audacity.

He's somehow both taken aback, and amused by that fact. Trust Dean to be with a woman who goes for the jugular.

“Because you’ve been straight shootin’ with me, I guess I’ll shoot straight with you,” John replies. He sighs and wipes a hand over his bearded mouth, like you’ve seen Dean do at times when he’s tired, or anxious.

“A good part of me believes I did the best I could,” he says.

Your gaze falls; you don’t want him to see your real thoughts in your eyes.

“But,” he says, “If you're asking if I have regrets? ...Then you'd be right.”

You consider him then, for a moment. You find that you believe him. You begin to soften.

“Well, that’s something we have in common,” you reply. “But Sam and Dean are the best men I’ve ever known… So thank you.”

And you mean that. You are grateful for both of them. They became your family when you thought you had no one left.

John surprises you by shaking his head, smiling. “That’s what I wanted to say to you.”

You falter at that.

Me? you think. Why would he want to thank me?

Before you can truly digest his words, Dean comes into the kitchen, both to check on you and bring his dad the pictures he keeps in his nightstand. While he looks through them, John surreptitiously watches you and his son. 

Dean sidles up behind you and rests a hand along your hip. He peeks over your shoulder at what you’re cooking. You open the lid on the big pan of rice, chicken, and seafood, and he hums in delight at the smell of saffron that hits him.

“What’s that, paella?” he asks.

You give him an impressed look. “Very good. Here, it’s not quite ready yet, but try a bit.”

You put a shrimp and a bit of rice on the wooden spoon and raise it to his lips. Dean smiles and takes the proffered bite. He then moans in appreciation.

“Oh, that’s good,” he praises with his mouth full. “A bit spicy.”

“You like that though,” you tease.

Dean eyes you, and he chuckles. “Yeah, I do actually.”

John smiles to himself, both at the pictures of his boys throughout the years he missed, and at the glimpse he gets to see now.

You turn to him with another spoonful held out. “Want to try some, John?”

He obliges you by coming over and taking the spoon from your hand. He takes the bite, and his brows shoot up.

“Oh man, that’s got some kick to it,” he says.

“Too much?” you ask.

“Nah, it’s real good.”

Dean grins, but it soon dims as he realizes something.

“Ooh, what about dessert?” he says, rubbing his hands together. “Do we have anything?”

“Nope,” you reply. “Either we pick something up, or…I could make a flan.”

Dean’s grin kicks back in, full force. If there's one thing he's come to love in this world besides pie, it's your flan.

“But! For that I’ll need more ingredients,” you say, holding down a laugh at the look on your man’s face.

“Say no more,” he replies. “I’ll go on a grocery run. Just tell me what you need.”

You’re about to respond when a door creaks open down the hall. Mary hastens into the kitchen with Sam on her heels. When she sees her husband, her face falls into shock.

“John,” she breathes.

John's amusement gradually melts away, into watery-eyed emotion.

“My girl,” he says.

The two meet each other in the middle of the room. He holds her face, and she grips the front of his shirt with desperation. Their kiss is beautiful and tender…and then it’s more.

You and Dean share a wide-eyed look with Sam. The three of you quickly tip out of the room to the sounds of soft moans in your wake.  

“Wow. I mean, this is crazy right?” Dean says. He gesticulates wildly with his hands as the three of you make your way down the hall. “The way they just…connected, like magnets.”

You turn to him with a knowing smile.

“Your parents are about to have a lot of reunion sex,” you tease. 

Both Sam and Dean grimace. Dean has a full body shiver and gives you a look.

“Thank you for that,” he says wryly. 

You laugh and try to soothe him with a hand down his arm, but he playfully shakes his head at you. You have mercy on the brothers and manage to stifle your laughter.

“Okay, so, dessert,” you say.

“Well, since you’re so graciously being our chef for tonight, you just relax,” Dean says. “Sam and I’ll go make a run. You just tell me what you need.”

You pause in the hallway and give a hum of suspicion. You’re not sure you trust him to get the right stuff. The last time you asked him to get very specific ingredients from the store, he did not, in fact, bring you what you needed. (Somehow, he thought regular garlic powder was the same as Adobo seasoning.)

He clocks that look of yours and rolls his eyes. “Come on, really? What am I, five years old? Just give me a list.”

You relent with a sigh. “Okay, I’ll text it to you. But if you need me to send you pictures of anything, just let me know.”

Dean’s lips kick up into a smirk. He leans in for a parting kiss on your cheek, but it’s just an excuse to whisper in your ear.

“Well, I’ll never say no to some pics,” he says. “Nudes, preferably.” 

He then laughs at your rosy blush and raised brows. Now you know he’s in a better mood.

“Just hurry up,” you reply, shaking your head. He keeps chuckling as he passes by you. A smile curves your lips, and you give into the urge to smack his ass on his way up the stairs.

Sam just sighs in amused resignation. He raises a hand to you in goodbye and follows his brother up to the garage. 

Once they’re in the car, Sam finally unloads what he’s been holding onto all afternoon.

“Dean, how did this happen?”

“I mean, I don’t know. You said that the pearl gives you what your heart desires, right?” Dean says. “So, my heart desired… Look, I’ve wanted this, man. I’ve wanted this since I was four years old. Maybe having Mom back just brought it all back up.”

He’s not exactly sure how deep that “desire” was buried, but the pearl knew. Dean couldn’t believe how happy he was when he saw his dad again, got to tell him everything that he’d missed, getting to have him meet you. And seeing his dad with his mom again? Well, that was a child’s dream come true.

But Debbie Downer (AKA: his brother) looks concerned in the passenger seat.

“Okay, I know, and I love this too,” Sam says. “But messing with time—”

“No, no, no. Sam,” Dean says, raising a hand in protest as he drives.

“You know how this ends, Dean. Things change,” Sam tries to reason. Dean just shakes his head.

“Yeah, we got our family back together! I’ll take that change.”

“That’s not what I mean—”

“Stop. Just stop,” Dean says, in a tone that bodes no argument. “Look, can we just have one family dinner? Just one? Us—all of us together? That’s all I want. Can you just give me that?”

Sam’s lips purse. He knows it’s useless to argue with Dean when he gets like this, but Sam just can’t help the uneasy churning in his gut. It warns him that the other shoe has yet to drop on this spell.

You’re checking on the food when Sam and Dean return from their trip. Except the way they come storming into the kitchen has you turning to them in alarm.

Dean grasps your arms and searches your face. His face is marred by fresh cuts and a bruise or two.

“You feeling all right?” he asks. “Do you think Sam is a turtleneck-wearing douchebag?”

“Dean, what?” you utter. You touch his bruised cheek lightly, wincing in sympathy when he does out of pain. “What happened?”

True to Sam’s gut, the wish changed more than bringing John Winchester back from 2003. They explain what they went through after getting the groceries you requested—namely getting attacked by Castiel and Zachariah at the local liquor store.

The latter of the two angels was supposed to be dead, while the other had no recollection of being friends with the Winchesters. Sam was supposed to be a hot-shot Steve Jobs wannabe lawyer, while Dean had his mugshot plastered all over town.

“I think it’s…a temporal paradox,” Sam says.

Now, you’re very alarmed.

“Are you kidding me?! What the hell are we gonna do?” you exclaim.

“About what?” John asks from the doorway. He’s no longer wearing his jacket, you notice, and his shirt is looking a bit rumpled and hastily buttoned at the top, but his gaze is serious, matching his sons.

After sharing another telling look, Dean takes the responsibility of explaining the situation to his father, while Sam goes to find his mother.

Dean and John go into the library to talk. He explains that pulling John out of his time is now making the current timeline self-correct. Meaning, everything and everyone is gradually adjusting to the change.

“Basically, uh, if you don’t go back,” Dean says. He hesitates on the words, but he forces himself to continue. “Sam never gets back into the life. And Mom, she…”

“What?” John asks.

“Well, without everything that we did, with God, the Darkness, Mom never comes back,” Dean explains, even though it’s killing him inside. “Sam thinks that she’ll just fade away.”

It hurts him still to see the understanding don on his dad’s face, along with a smile of resignation.

“Okay,” John agrees. “I mean, me versus your mom? That’s not even a choice.”

Dean nods at that, however belatedly.

“Dean…I never meant for this,” John says.

“Dad, we pulled you here—”

“No, son. My fight,” he says. He still thinks about his conversation with you earlier today. He thinks about how protective you seemed just by that question you asked—not just protective of Dean, but of Sam too.

“It was supposed to end with me, with Yellow Eyes,” John explains. “But now, you’re a grown man, and I am incredibly proud of you.”

Dean takes that in; he feels a rush of warmth deep in his heart, even though he doesn’t know what to say.

“You and your girl…you two planning on settling down someday? Having a family?” John asks.

Dean quirks a smile. You two haven’t talk about…that. Any of that. In between all the shit you all keep landing in, he’s somehow never had those conversations with you. Maybe he should.

But not now. Not until Michael’s gone and dealt with.

“I don’t know if we’re the settling type, but either way…I have a family,” Dean replies. He can say that honestly, with a soft smile that reaches his eyes.

John smiles back.

“All right,” he says. “Just think about it then.”

Dean once again finds you in the kitchen. You’ve gotten the plates, glasses, and silverware ready for dinner on the dining table.

“Hey, there’s only four plates on the table. We’re five,” Dean says.

You nod and close the oven back up. You’ve spent the past hour preparing the flan and just took it out of the oven. Hopefully it will have enough time to chill in the fridge.

You go to Dean and grasp the front of his gray flannel. In return, he holds you close by your arms.

“Listen, I thought it might be better if the four of you have dinner together. I’ll just eat here in the kitchen,” you say. Dean’s brows furrow, but you try to explain before he can start protesting. “You don’t have a lot of time left with your dad. This is the first time you’re getting to be together with your family like this. I just want to make sure you get the most out of it.”

Dean squeezes your arms and frowns down at you.

“You being there doesn’t take anything away from me being with them,” he says sternly. “And you’re part of my family. Part of our family. I’m not gonna have you eating in here by yourself like you’re a leper or something. Come on.”

He grabs your plate and the glass that you set aside on the counter, and he brings it to the table without letting you get a word in to stop him. You sigh, watching him go, but you also have to smile as the sting of tears burns in your eyes.

Dinner is awkward and dour at first. You all can’t help but think of what’s to come at the end of the night—ending the spell, and sending John back along with it.

But after John sets the tone, encouraging them to be grateful for this moment, and not dreading the inevitable end, everyone’s able to relax. The rest goes off without a hitch. 

While Sam and Dean are telling a childhood story, arguing about who’s version of the events were more accurate, you get up to grab the dessert from the fridge. 

You take out the pan of flan with both hands and go to bring it back to the table, but right in the doorway, you stumble to a stop as a wave of something washes over you. It prickles across your skin and feels a lot like magic.

The pan drops from between your hands and crashes to the floor. It startles everyone in the room.  

Dean calls your name in alarm. He’s the closest to you, and he gets up to steady you with a hand on your shoulder. 

“You okay?” he asks, trying to get you to meet his gaze. 

But when you do, he sees blankness behind your widened eyes. 

“Who are you?” you ask. You look around in both fear and confusion. “Where the hell am I?”

Dean’s throat constricts. "What do you mean? You live here. I'm..."

He searches your face for any hint of a joke, but he finds none. Trepidation grows inside him, and he realizes then what this is.

Another temporal shift, getting closer to the new timeline. One in which you and Dean are clearly strangers.

Somehow, he didn’t anticipate this.

“You don’t recognize me, do you?” he says.

Your brows furrow as you take in the man in front of you. He’s certainly a sight to see, you think, but those broad shoulders, the cut of his jaw, those green eyes…they’re unfamiliar to you.

“Sorry, but…I feel like I’d remember you,” you say with a nervous chuckle. “Have we worked together or something?”

Dean’s lips press together. He gives you a meaningful look. “Sweetheart, we’ve done a lot more than that.”

Your brows raise, and you blush hotly at the thinly veiled innuendo in his deep voice. You take another quick scan of him, which he notes with a smile.

“Yeah, I uh, I doubt that,” you say, which drops his smile again. You curl a strand of hair behind your ear, like you’re embarrassed just by him scrutinizing your curvy form. Like you can’t believe he’s basically flirting with you.

That’s not the woman he knows. 

“Listen, I’m sorry, but I don’t know you. I have to figure out where the hell I am and how to get home,” you say. And you ease out of his hold and back away. 

Dean grabs your hand fast. “Uh, wait. Sorry, just…”

He raises a placating hand and glances back at Sam with a hidden thread of desperation in his eyes. His brother is shocked and disheartened, as are Mary and John.

“Okay. I'm Dean, this is my brother Sam, our parents, Mary and John,” Dean says, turning back to you. “I know this has gotta be weird as hell for you right now, but can you just…stay put for a bit, until I get this worked out?”

You give him an uneasy look. He’s holding your hand like he’s afraid to let you go. You don’t know this man at all, and yet he really seems to believe that he knows you. It doesn’t make any damn sense.

You shake your head. “Look, I have to go home.”

You try tugging your hand out of his, and Dean finally lets you go.

“Why, you got a boyfriend waiting or something?” he asks. He’s half teasing, and half serious. 

“No, um, family,” you admit. “My grandma’s probably waiting for me.” 

Dean’s expression slackens. In the right version of the timeline, you’re his girl. But your grandmother passed away a few years ago.

“Okay,” he wipes at his mouth with a hand. “Tell you what, it’s pretty late. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll take you wherever you want to go. Deal?”

The truth is, he has no intention of letting you go any-damn-where, but he needs to buy them some time to break this spell. Then you’ll be back to normal.

Right now, you’re reluctant to trust him. Eventually though, you nod in agreement. Dean wastes no time in bringing you to the War Room, where he encourages you to take a seat.

“I’ll be back in a few,” he promises.

You nod a bit hesitantly, as you still treat him with dubious suspicion. It breaks his heart. He forces himself to turn away from you and return to the dining room.

Part of you can’t help but watch him leave. Those long legs and broad shoulders are a sight, you can admit, but this is all too much for you. You further take in your surroundings and also think this place is strange. No windows…what, are we in some WWII bunker?

And yet, Señor Green Eyes claimed that you live here. Your car, your keys, it all must still be here, you reason. 

So you wait until he’s all the way down the hall, and disappearing into another room. You get up out of your seat and start looking for your stuff—and a way out of here.

Meanwhile, Dean goes back into the dining room where Mary is already crying in John’s arms: for her eldest son, for her youngest, for her husband, and for herself. Dean’s eyes are red and stinging too. 

By now, Sam has gotten up from the table and has been waiting for his brother. He lays a supportive hand on Dean’s shoulder. When Dean meets his brother’s gaze, he sees the shine of heartbreak there too. 

“Let’s get this done,” John says.

Saying goodbye is the hardest thing. 

Somehow, though, they get through it. Dean reflects on how he never got to say it to his father the first time. He feels the worst for his mom, who gets her husband ripped away from her.

It’s not fair. In fact, it’s a cruel turn of the knife that he should’ve expected. Dean feels guilty just for making this goddamn wish.

John says goodbye to his wife first, then his sons. He pulls them both into a hug that Dean clings to. Again, he hears his father say that he’s proud of him and his brother. Dean hears him say that he loves them. 

“I love you too,” are the only words Dean can manage out, in a coarse whisper. 

But Sam is the one who has to make things right. He crushes the pearl. John slowly disappears in a haze of golden light. Tracks of tears are wet on all of their faces, but Dean is the first one who has to lock it all away. 

He remembers that you’re still waiting in the other room. 

Wiping at his eyes, he leaves Sam to comfort their mother and hurries out there, to the room where Dean left you…only to find your chair empty. 

A tendril of panic churns in his gut, but he has to remind himself that they’ve set things right. Even if you’ve run off, you can’t have gone far. 

He calls your name as he heads for the door to the garage. He picks up his keys and his phone to call you, but he stops at the foot of the stairs.

He sees you at the top of them, having dropped your duffel bag at your feet. Your name falls from his lips again.

You turn around and hold a hand to your head, with your brows furrowed in discomfort. Your gaze travels down to his.

“Dean?” you call out.

You head down the stairs, and Dean meets you there at the bottom. He pulls you into a tight, desperate hug. His hand comes up to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. Even though you’re still a bit confused, you hold him back to reassure him, and to steady yourself. 

“What happened?” you ask.

“We reversed the spell,” he confesses, after he finds his voice. “Had to send him back.”

Your hold becomes more comforting as your hand slides up the back of his neck. 

“Oh, baby. I’m sorry,” you whisper. You card your fingers through his hair. His hold on you tightens even more. You feel his deep, shuddering breaths. He’s trying to contain it all, to push it down. You wish he would allow himself to let it out. 

He presses his lips into your neck instead. 

“You okay?” he asks. Your cheek brushes his when you nod. 

“I’m fine, but…” You pull back enough to see his face. “Did I…forget you? Everyone?”

Dean’s lips press together.

“For a minute there,” he says, “but we got it all worked out.”

You let out a shaky sigh, and you tug him back into a warm hug that you both need. 

Mary prefers to be alone that night. You understand it, but you still apologize and give her a heartfelt embrace in the hallway outside her room. 

It takes her a moment, but she returns it. You start to realize that Winchesters are not a touchy-feely bunch by design. You can’t help yours though; you’re affectionate by nature. You just hope you haven’t overstepped.

Mary gives you a small, teary smile when you eventually pull away. She squeezes your hand before she says goodnight to you and her sons. 

You give Sam a parting hug as well. He rubs your back in a brotherly gesture. 

“Sorry about the whole temporary amnesia thing,” you quip. 

Sam shakes his head with a smile. “Just glad to have you back.”

After he lets you go, Dean thumps his brother on the back. He then heads down the hall without a word.

You and Sam share a look, in which you give him an unspoken promise: I’ll take care of him.

You follow after Dean, who trekked a well-worn path to your shared bedroom. He’s already at the sink, splashing water on his face. After drying himself with a small towel, he sighs and rests his hands on the corners of the sink.

After closing the bedroom door, you go over and slip your arms around him from behind. 

You rest your head against his back, and you both take in some deep breaths. Dean clasps a hand over yours on his chest. 

“I’m okay,” he says. 

“No, you’re not,” you tell him. “And that’s okay.”

Dean stays quiet. For a beat, he closes his eyes. He’s grateful for you. He’s still not sure why you put up with all the hellish shit that surrounds his life.

He turns in your arms so he can cup your cheek, smoothing his thumb across your skin. 

“You know how much I love you right now?” he says, even though his deep voice cracks. Tears well up in your eyes, but you smile and you nod. 

“Yeah, I do,” you reply, resting a hand on his chest. “I love you back.” 

He frames your face with his hands and bows his head to kiss you. It’s fraught and devouring, and a bit greedy. You’re willing to give him whatever he needs right now, especially when his hands slip under your shirt and raise it over your head with practiced ease. In turn, you help him shrug out of the flannel and everything else.

You seat him down on the edge of the bed and stroke his face, his neck, his bare shoulders. His fingers press into your thick thighs as he encourages you to climb aboard, straddling his hips.  

Michael still paces back and forth in his mind, but for now, Dean’s able to tune it out and focus on this moment, with you. 

AN: This ended up being another long one. Lots of angst and feels, but I sincerely hope you enjoy it! I had a lot of fun with this chapter of the Espresso-verse. 💜

Keep Reading:

Next up in this series is "A Little Danger." This one is lighter. Just a "quick and dirty" one-shot my brain couldn't let go of:

Summary: While relaxing together in the bunker, Dean takes your playful teasing to a new level. (And he’s too horny to care about the consequences.)

▶️ Next Story: A Little Danger

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[sarcastically-defensive17]

Hello! I saw your requests were open, so maybe a Dean x latina reader headcanon or imagine? Thanks😊

South of the Border - D. Winchester

Hi darling! Sorry this took so long, and I hope you like it! If I have gotten anything wrong or portrayed the reader in an offensive way, or anything, please let me know and I will either rectify or remove this post. I tried to be as i non-stereotypical as I could because I am not from this ethnicity, nor do I know anybody well enough from this ethnicty.

Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy! Sorry it’s a bit short!

P.S. this gif just snatched my ovaries.

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

Dean Winchester was not a man who had a type. Many would even say he was not a man with taste, to which he would sometimes agree.

He had been with many women over his life. Some he had found in a seedy bar in some small town, others he had schmoozed on the job, and some even, he had taken home from lavish mansions and fancy estate parties.

He had never particularly stuck to a specific type of woman, so long as they tickled his fancy. And Y/N did much more than that.

In his life, he had never been with a Latina woman. He had never had the chance to be so drawn to somebody of that origin, nor had he felt so strongly about a woman to be completely encapsulated by every feature of her.

They met in a bar. In some small town in Colombus, and from the minute his eyes landed on her, he knew she was a hunter as well.

She was bent over a pool table, lining up a shot. She had almost all of her balls left, and the man she was playing against had two left, not including the black.

The shot was lined perfectly, her form working in her favour, but just as she was about to strike the white ball, she shifted the cue to the left minutely and messed up her shot.

She rose up to her full height with a pout and Dean stopped to admire the way her long black hair fell over her back. Her brown eyes feigned sadness, and she crossed her arms underneath her chest with an overacted huff.

She was playing the man. The fella lined up his shot and pushed one of his balls closer to a pocket, but with no success.

Y/N had enough of acting. She sent a smile to the man as he announced it was her shot, and leaned over the table.

She had chosen her outfit with a purpose. Tight acid wash jeans and a tank top, perfect to get the man to fork over some more money in his bet, as he was far too distracted by her body.

Her shot was lined perfectly, she knew so, and Dean also knew so. His green eyes focused on the cue in her hands and as soon as the blue tinted tip connected with the white ball, she had won the game.

Ball after ball went down with expertise. The man standing across from her gaped with anger burning in his eyes.

She sunk the black and snatched up the cash with one fluid movement.

The man downed the last of his beer, grabbing the Latina by the arm and pulling her towards him.

Dean rushed over to help, aiming to grab the man and throw him away but before he could, a string of Spanish fell from her red tinted lips and she had the mans arm twisted behind his back, and his face was pressed against the pool table.

“Fair is fair, honey. I win, you lose. Piss off,” her accent was thick and like music to deans ears. In that instant, he was completely enraptured by the woman.

She turned her attention to Dean, who was standing in front of her, with the expression of a stunned mullet. She grinned at him, a bright, dazzling action that sent his heart flipping in his chest cavity.

“Gracias, Winchester, but I’ve got this handled,” she winked as she spoke to him, using her free hand to slip the money she won into her bra before turning her attention back to the man she had pressed against the table. “Try and grab a lady like that again, and I will haunt your ass. I’m talking full-tilt, blasting ‘Toxic’ by Brittney Spears to let you know I’m near, haunting. You got me?”

The man nodded as quickly as he found with his face smushed into the green felt. She relented, releasing him and standing to her full height, which wasn’t very tall.

The man stumbled away, grumbling something about a “crazy bitch” as Dean kept his candy apple gaze locked onto her.

“How did you know my name?” Was all he could get out.

She snorted. A sound he found to be quite adorable.

“Everybody in the hunting community knows about you, Winchester. Along with your muy grande brother over there-“ she nodded her head in the direction of where Sam was stood, drunkenly throwing darts with a blonde, but managing to get every one in the bullseye “- and your angel lover, Castiel.”

Dean blushed when she winked at him. He hadn’t done something like that since he was a teenager. Or at least since Lisa.

“He- he’s not my lover. He’s my friend,” he grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. “So you’re a hunter then.”

“That wasn’t obvious by the way I hustled Mr. Misogyny over there?” She smirked.

“More than obvious, actually.” Dean was at a loss of words. He didn’t know what to say to the goddess of a woman standing in front of him, nor did he know how to react to the way her eyes trailed over his body.

“Look, darling, you seem a little shy so I guess it’s up to me to make the first move.” She leaned closer to him. “Come back to my motel room with me? I’ll show you how we do things South of the border.”

Dean couldn’t stop the groan that fell from his lips as he linked his fingers with hers and trailed along.

The last thing he did before leaving the bar was send a sharp whistle into the air, catching Sam’s attention as he tossed the keys to his brother. Not even looking back to see if he caught them.

[sweeterthanthis]

'Quote Me On It' Masterlist

A collection of fics written for my 'Quote Me On It' 6k Challenge 🖤

Check out these amazing authors and their wonderful creations! Thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart for contributing to this challenge 🖤

*Please read the warnings listed in each individual fic*

♡ Peaches and Cream by @river-soul

Bucky Barnes x Reader

♡ We Know by @saidrolav

Sam Wilson x Reader

♡ A Promise by @there-goes-thefighter

Brock Rumlow x Coulsons Daughter OC

♡ Underwater by @sweetlyscared

Steve Rogers x F!Reader

♡ Love Potion by @thewildthorberrys

Thor x Reader

♡ The Massage by @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair

Sam Wilson x Reader

♡ Crossed Oceans Of Time by @lucisfavoritedemon

Bucky Barnes x Reader

♡ Charity Case by @dollslayer

Bucky Barnes x Reader

♡ His by @thefanbasewhore

Biker!Bucky x F!Reader

♡ Glimpse by @kleohoneyao3

Ghost!Bucky x Reader

♡ The Blood Queen by @little-diable

Knight!Chris Evans x Queen!Reader

♡ Decisions by @uncensored-steve-the-platypus

Andy Barber x Reader

♡ Honeymoon by @iillicitarts

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

♡ I Put A Spell On You by @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

♡ If Only You Didn't Have To Forget by @band--psycho

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

♡ All Dark, No Stars by @boxofbonesfic

Werewolf!Bucky x Reader

♡ A Leap of Faith by @gwenavibra

Tom Holland x Reader

♡ What A Lie by @bemine-bucky

Andy Barber x Reader

♡ Golden Boy by @buckyssimp

Virgin!Steve Rogers x Experienced!Reader

♡ Feel Me by @navybrat817

Chris Beck x F!Reader

♡ Permission by @silver-pieces

SoftDark!Bucky Barnes x Reader

♡ Want To Bet On It? by @ladyfallonavenger

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

♡ Boogie Nights by @tuiccim

Bucky Barnes x Innocent!Reader

♡ When Daddy's Not Around by @cockslut-padalecki

DBF!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

♡ Deals & Decisions by @my-divine-death

Demon!Ransom x F!Hunter!Reader

♡ My Dark Angel by @angrybirdcr

Curtis Everett x F!Reader

♡ Tainted Love by @gogolucky13

Pornstar!Bucky x Pornstar!Reader

♡ From The Outside by @slothspaghettiwrites

Andy Barber x Bottom!Reader

♡ Informal Affairs by @dreamlessinparis

Mob!Bucky Barnes x Mob!F!Reader

♡ Not A Day Without You by @waywardbaby

Dean Winchester x Reader

♡ Had No Need To Fight by @howdoyousleep3

Alpha!Steve Rogers x GNOmega!Reader

♡ Promise by @romancherry

Bucky Barnes x Reader

♡ The Fucker by @the-iceni-bitch

Lance Tucker x Female!Reader

♡ Forever by @thefallenbibliophilequote

Bucky Barnes x Reader

♡ This Or That by @chrissquares

Jake Jensen x Female!Reader

♡ Here With Me by @barbersbrat

Rachel Gatina x Latina!Reader x Andy Barber

♡ Who The Hell Is Bucky? by @payperhearts

Bucky Barnes x Reader

♡ Hanging Out by @americasass91

Ransom Drysdale x Reader

♡ Fated by @labella420

Steve Rogers x F!Reader

♡ Dreams Do Come True by @saiyanprincessswanie

Steve Rogers x Reader

♡ Jamie by @19ana45

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

♡ The Second Coming by @gotnofucks

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Peter Parker x Reader

♡ Miscalculations by @christywantspizza

Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader

♡ What You Need by @there-must-be-a-lock

Bucky Barnes x Reader

♡ Coercive Notions by @sadachmesarthim

VeryDarkAbusive!Steve x Bucky (Take the warnings extremely seriously, please.)

[plussizeappreciationfics]

Can I get a song fic for dean Winchester x plus sized Latina reader to the song Can I by Kehlani pls? I just thought it and now it won't go away 👁️👄👁️

This shit's so good, should be illegal Need round two, I need a sequel Hit the backboard like a free throw You next level, you a cheat code In so deep, you hit my seafloor Got me singing like Alicia Got me using all your lingo Tell your girlfriend that you single Call me over 'cause I go hard Sweet lil' bih, fuck like a pornstar Next day, act just like your road dog Bitches askin' how you know her Head game stupid, baby loca Too loud, callate la boca Out this world, you supernova Fuck that, I am coming over Can I come over? (Can) Can I (I) stop by (Stop by) to see you (See you) tonight? Can I stop by to see you? (Tonight)

“ S-Shit don’t stop” you beg Dean while digging your nails into his shoulders and letting out a loud whine when he pushed his hips faster against yours. The room smelled of sweat and sex but neither of you cared as you only wanted to get lost in each other before having to face this awful world again.

“ You feel amazing [Y/N]” the hunter praised before removing his head from the crook of your neck and sloppily letting your lips meet in a deep kiss. Your body felt like it was on fire, every inch of it was tingling with pure pleasure as Dean continued to fuck you deep into the cheap motel mattress. 

A part of you silently wished that you could never stop feeling this, the handsome man plowing away inside of you and only thinking and focusing on you. These moments were actually the highlight of your day before you’d have to go back to the bunker and pretend like you were only friends with him.

Dean had a girlfriend for almost a year and it seemed like she really loved him. And here you were, stealing him away because you hadn’t taken the opportunity to let him know that you had some feelings for him before he met his current girlfriend.

Did you feel bad?

Yes.

Were you planning on stop seeing him?

No. Not at all.

“ Fuck!” you screamed loudly and threw your head back when the tip of Dean’t throbbing thickness brushed against your sweet spot. Stars began to explode behind your closed eyelids and you felt the delicious knot form in the pit of your stomach.This was fucking heaven.

You managed to open your eyes and glace up at Dean who already had a tired smirk resting on his face, you looked magnificent, “ Cum for me, baby”  he sweetly said which only made you let out more loud and desperate cries as your inner walls tightened around his now swelling length, your hips desperately moving against his.

We both on fire, love the teamwork Leave with juices on your t-shirt Loud and clear, no need for reverb Tell the Uber driver revert Flip that bitch and make a u-turn Sextape crazy, need the bloopers Last so long, bae, you a trooper Sniper gang, no Bradley Cooper Hi, I'm Hell, it's nice to meet ya Know you fuckin' with a demon Do 'bout anything to please ya Cum inside me, I'm a keeper Want me to make you a senior? Never been that hard to read ya When we done, you say, "I need ya" I done made you a believer

It only took you a few seconds before you threw your head back and let out the loudest scream as your orgasm rippled through your, Dean never stopped moving and made sure to continue to plow against your sweet spot while leaning down and giving your sweaty neck some tender kisses. A loud groan then left his lips before he released himself deep inside you, every thick spurt of warm cum making you shiver in delight while you lost yourself into the intense sensations of your orgasm.

You didn’t know how long you stayed in that amazing daze, at some point Dean and smoothly slid out of you and was nice enough to get a wet cloth and clean the thick and sticky mess up in between your legs.

Now, it was just the two of you lying on the bed and being wrapped in each other’s arms. You loved being so at peace when lying with him. Now that the aftermath of your orgasms had passed, the guilt slowly began to thicken the air.

No one said a word but no words needed to be said. Dean was a taken man and you were one of his best friend who also was interested in getting together with his single brother. All of this was just a fucked up mess and you knew that it was only a matter of time before all hell would break loose and karma would knock at your door.

“ Dean open up! I know that you and [Y/N] are in there!” 

The sound of the girlfriend made a cold shiver run down your sweaty back as you shot up and stared at Dean in panic. This was the moment and you weren’t ready for and you didn’t know what else to do besides jumping off the bed and quickly getting dressed while the loud screams and knocks didn’t stop....

Can I come over? {Can I come over?} (Can) Can I (I) stop by (Stop by) to see you (See you) tonight? (Oh) Can I (Oh) stop by to see you? (Tonight) Can I-I-I-I Can I-I-I-I See you, see you, see you? See you, see you, see you?

Tag list: @jamesbarnesappreciationclubub  l @pleasantdreamqueen l @disneymarina l l @harleycativy  l @sparklemichele l @melaninmarvel l @amethyst09 l @the-force-of-imagines l @bossyboyd03 l @pebblesz892 l @stars8melanin l @brittyevans l @toc1985 l @janeyboo l @badassbaker l @winters-beauty l @cannonindeez  l @ilovefanfic86  l @adorablespecialsnowflakes l @brittanyovens l @kanupps06 l @jazmynejack l @thebookwormslytherin l @theunsweetenedtruth l @talannalew l @littlexmissxfandomxlover l @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes l @crimsonash330 l @booklover2929 l @aranelgrey l @panda-duuu l @thisismysecrethappyplace  l @titty-teetee l @honey-anon l @princess-evans-addict l @hp-hogwartsexpress l @malindacath  l @letsdisneythings l @scorpionchild81 l @shado-raven l @alisoncdariel l @plutoneu l  @queenoftheworldisdead l @briannab1234l @miyaeadys-blog l @thenamelesscorpse2185 l @hihellogoodbyebruh l @nackrosor l @nerdgurl1985 l @2darkskinbeauty l @bugngiz l @african-melanin-goddess l @barnes-wilson-love l @ktiz90 l @let-the-love-in l @forlornfortitudel @robinredboob l @hopefuloperaangelnerd l @kola95 l @partypoison00 l @alwaysadreamingoptimist l @reniescarlett l @g0thicdream l @mayasopinions l @captaintightpants58 l @leillee

-Emmanuelle 💋❤️

[thatfanficstuff]

Fic/Request status

Writing this out was...wow. Anyway. Here’s where we stand. I have plans. And secret things I am working on but I can’t post until this all gets done. I’m also pushing to get The Light in my darkness and Strange Fates finished ASAP. Just cuz. Let me know if you have any questions. Thank you. 

Pending Fics/Requests

Star Trek

·       Spock – Combining a request for a wife reader and a hurt comfort fic. Status: Plotted

·       Khan – With Spock’s human half-sister. Spock is going to lose his mind. Status: Think mode

·       Bones x injured reader Status: semi-plotted

·       Kirk x female captain (native American reader) Status: will probably pull a plot idea from my list

·       Scotty x space pirate – um…yes please. Status: No idea but it will be epic.

Not doing:

·       Spock w suicidal/depressed reader – too sad for me right now.

·       Jealous Spock – already have one and don’t feel I could do another justice.

·       Spock x daughter – no idea what I would write for this.

 Lord of the Rings

·       Thorin w/ half dwarf/half hobbit reader. I have the best idea for this one. So fluffy. Status: Plotted

·       Legolas x Elf reader – FLANGST. Damn it Leggy. Combining 2 requests that both wanted slightly diff flangst. Not using requested parentage. Status: Plotted

·       Eomer x female rider of rohan status: thinking stage

·       Thorin x elf reader – making reader slightly less kick ass than requested Status: Plotted

·       Dwalin song fic with This is Me Status: Thinking stage

Not Doing:

·       One with Thorin and reader and the moon because it was sad as hell and just no.

 Supernatural

·       Gabriel – love confessions Status: semi-plotted

·       Dean x reader – Status: Plotted

Not Doing

·       Super specific request about AU Cas and Winchester sister. I haven’t caught up with the show and won’t be able to write this. Sorry.

 Marvel

·       Steve x wife reader. This one is going to be awesome. Status: Plotted

·       Avengers w self harming soulmate – Making this Flangst, not angst and narrowing down the soulmates to like 1 or 2 Status: Thinking mode

·       Clint x Latina reader – cute drooly clint. Hehe Status – Plotted

·       Bucky Barnes x chubby reader. Flangst. Status – Plotted

·       Jealous Steve Status – Plotted

·       Bruce Banner Status: Plotted

·       Steamy Erik Lensherr – um…yes please Status: Plotted

·       Dr Strange Hurt/comfort Status: Semi-plotted

·       Black Widow x Xmen male Reader x Maria Hill – flangst Status: Plotted

·       Gamora x male reader – changing plot a bit to fit my style Status: Plotted

·       Parker x reader and Steve x reader: I’m twisting the story a bit here but still doing Status: Plotted

·       Erik x reader x Charles Status: Thinking stage

·       Scott Lang x ex Reader – Status:Plotted

·       Sunday Brunch Part 2 – Status: Plotted

·       Billy Russo coffee shop AU Status: Plotted

·       Eddie Brock/venom x chef reader – Status: Plotted

 Teen Wolf

·       Peter soulmate au – making reader older than requested because Peter ain’t no pedo. Status: semi-plotted

·       My Favorite Weapon – final part – Status: Plotted

Not Doing

·       Halwyn x reader – I quit watching the show before it got to this point so I don’t know who this is. I was going to try to do it anyway, but I don’t have the time or energy. Sorry.

 Criminal Minds

·       Hotch x short reader – may not follow plot asked for exactly but I’ll get you covered Status: thinking mode

·       Hotch x reader with everyone – a trip to Asylum 49 Status: Semi-plotted

 The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

·       A marcel gif request that has been in my box for a year. I suck I’m sorry. I am doing it though. Status: way, way, way overdue.

·       Klaus x wife reader and meddling Kol – Status: Plotted

·       Klaus x reader that helps him against Mikael. This one is in think mode. Thinking of doing a 20s thing maybe.

 NCIS

·       Gibbs Status: Plotted

 The Walking Dead

·       Negan x adopted daughter; Daryl x daughter – Changing request a bit but still doing Status: Plotted

·       Rick x reader – Status: Plotted

 True Blood

·       Eric x Reader x Godric Status: thinking stage

 Peaky Blinders

·       A Condition Part 2 (maybe 3) – Status: Plotted

 Jurassic World

·       Be Prepared Part 3 and 4 – Status: Plotted

 Buffy

·       Spike x reader – Status: Plotted

·       Spike x xander’s sister reader – Status: Semi-plotted