#debriel trashcan

[crashdevlin]

Well-trained

Author’s Note: Written to fulfill my Free Space for @spnkinkbingo, I chose Pain Kink and threw in some nice Dom/sub dynamics and the rare pair of Debriel x Reader. It’s also a take on this thing I shared two weeks ago about getting my newest tattoo. I blame the Debriel on @thewhiterabbit42. They welcomed me to this trashcan with open arms...

Pairing(s): Dean x Gabriel x Reader

Summary: Y/n’s boyfriends take her to get her anti-possession tattoo.

Word Count: 2526

Story Warnings: Dom!Gabriel, Switch!Dean, Sub!Reader, pain kink, established poly relationship, possessiveness, handsy tattoo artist... no sex, just kink 

The parlor was well-lit and smelled of cleaning solvent. You'd insisted upon it. You didn't want the neons and black-lights of the parlor down the street. You didn't want the place to smell like incense. You were getting a medical procedure done, that's how you saw it. A tattoo was art, but it was also more disruptive to your epidermis than most laparoscopic surgeries these days and you wanted it done somewhere clean, somewhere that smelled like a hospital.

You filled out your paperwork and sat in the waiting area while the tattoo artist set up his area. Gabriel took the opportunity to flip through the sample books, a popsicle in his hand despite the cold weather outside. “I'm thinking a badass dragon across my shoulders. What do ya think, babe?”

“I think you could do it yourself with a snap,” Dean responded, not looking up from his phone where he was losing Words With Friends to both Mary and Sam.

“Not the babe I was talkin’ to, but you're right. I could do hers the same way if you wa-”

“No. She's gotta get it done right, Gabe.”

Gabriel turned to him, eyebrow cocked over his perfect honey eyes. “You think I'd fuck it up? I could have that thing done perfectly and completely healed in a fraction of a second and she wouldn't have to worry about-”

Dean dragged his eyes up and green met gold. “The pain is half the point. You don't heal her when we tan her hide in the bedroom, why would you deprive her of what she likes, here?”

The archangel blinked slowly and nodded. “Got me there, Winchester.”

Dean turned his attention to you, nudging you with his elbow. “You nervous, baby girl?” You shook your head. ‘Nervous’ wasn't the right word. ‘Anxious’ was closer. “You sure? I mean, you're about to have a big Romanian dude with ⅞ gauges in his ears seeing the glory you usually reserve for me and a damn archangel.”

You smiled. “Not all my glory, Dean. Besides, Gabe’ll be able to tell if he’s thinking impure thoughts and he can give him his just desserts if he acts unprofessionally.”

“Don’t give him that permission, y/n. He’ll kill the guy. Dude’s gonna be full of impure thoughts once your shirt comes off.”

“Come on. He doesn’t need permission, Dean.” Gabriel’s eyes sparkled at that. “And the shirt’s not coming off. It’s why I wore a camisole instead of a t-shirt. Just gonna pull the left side down. He shouldn’t even get to see any nipple.”

“Shame,” Dean rumbled. “Definitely love it when other guys get hard for you, coveting what’s ours.”

“Don’t worry, Dean-o. He already wants her.” Gabe tossed the stick from his popsicle at the trash can by the door and flopped down next to you on the black leather couch. “He keeps wondering which of us is her boyfriend. Thinks he’s more attractive than me, but if she’s your girl, he doesn’t have a shot.”

You scoffed out a chuckle. “You guys should put on a show. See how he acts when he thinks you’re my gay best friends and I’m fair game.”

“You hear this girl? She’s trying to get this guy killed,” Gabriel said, an almost proud tinge to his words.

“Am not, but come on. It should come as no surprise that I like games, Gabe. Why else would I have fallen for you?”

“I’m adorable?”

Dean smiled and leaned across in front of you to wrap his fingers in Gabriel’s hair and pull him in for a kiss. It was a rare thing for you to be caught between, in public at least. The hunter usually kept his PDA with the archangel to a bare minimum. If he was going to neck with someone on a park bench or something, he wanted to know people were staring because they were enjoying the show not because they were judging him.

Each man put a hand on your thigh, digging their fingertips into your flesh as their tongues danced across each other in front of your face. You immediately flooded with heat, your cheeks warming under the stimulus.

“I’m ready for you, sweetheart,” the tattoo artist, Kevin, said, walking into the waiting area. The look on his face was a mix of disgust at the display of man-love on his couch and excitement at the thought that those guys were obviously together and not with you.

Your boyfriends separated once Gabe gave Dean’s bottom lip a nibble and all three of you stood to follow Kevin back to his work area. He sat you down on a seat that reminded you of a weight bench without the bar and lifted the stencil he’d made of the anti-possession sigil. “Where we puttin’ it, darlin’?”

You placed your hand over your heart. “Right about here.” His lips twitched at the corners but he held back his smile.

“Okay, just lean on back and look straight ahead.” You did as you were told, looking straight ahead as he pulled the straps of your bra and camisole down your left arm. Based on the cold air on your skin, you could tell he’d pulled the fabric down almost to the edge of your areola. His gloved fingers carefully placed the stencil and he had you stand and check the placement, which was perfect. You sat down again, getting comfortable. Dean sat in the chair in the corner and Gabe leaned against the wall.

“Play a ‘D’ on Sam’s ‘SOPHISTICATE’. You’ll get the triple,” you coached from your chair as Kevin retrieved his tattoo gun. Dean’s eyebrows raised and he pursed his lips as his phone buzzed.

“Thanks. He's probably just been waiting for a ‘D’.”

“No prob.”

“Keep looking at him. It stretches your skin just right,” Kevin said.

“Okay.”

You took a deep breath, scene starting as the gun touched your skin. The pain was instant, and a throbbing pulse of need took up in your core because of it. You focused on Dean. Not the pain or what it was doing to you, just Dean and breathing. Dean and breathing. Not the wetness slowly seeping onto your underwear. Just Dean and breathing.

“Wow. Is this thing even working?” Kevin commented after a few minutes. Dean's eyes jumped from his phone to your chest, where the outline of the symbol was definitely starting to be etched into your skin. “You haven't even flinched, sweetheart.” Dean smirked and looked back down at his phone. You didn't respond as Kevin started in again, his pinkie finger dipping under the edge of your shirt in a way that could have been an accident but totally wasn't.

“I could tattoo you forever, y/n. You're, like, the perfect client,” Kevin praised a few minutes later.

Dean nodded without looking at you. “Thank you,” you answered, now that you'd gotten permission.

The gun started its trek across your collarbone and the sharper pain forced your eyes closed, but no sound escaped you, still. “I mean, I have had grown-ass men, like big burly guys like me in this chair and not a single one has been as tough as you. I could tattoo you ‘til I was blue in the face.”

“I'd be worried if you went blue in the face, Kev,” Gabriel spoke up.

“I'm just saying, she’s a fuckin’ rock. She barely moves. She's got a pain tolerance to die for. I mean, I'm stabbing prime fuckin’ real estate here and you're barely even acknowledging it's happening.” He turned his attention back to you as he finished speaking.

Dean's smirk made you bite your lip. “Yeah.” He looked up and caught your eyes. “She's well-trained, aren't you, baby girl?”

“Yes, sir.” Kevin's hand twitched at the words and he seemed to catch the tone. Of course he didn't understand that he was just a tool in your scene, that he was no more relevant to the game than a flogger or cock cage. But he would come to understand.

His fingers dipped under your camisole again, this time far enough to brush your nipple. Dean caught it this time. “Hey, Gabe,” Dean said, quietly, a deep rumble in his voice.

“I saw. That's two.”

“And we're going to give an opportunity for a third?”

“Well, we don't want the job left unfinished. If I explode him now, she'll only have an outline… and not even a full one.” Kevin snatched his hand away from your body and looked up at the other two men, trying to ascertain what Gabriel meant by ‘explode him’.

You still didn't move. As Kevin determined there were no explosives for Gabriel to explode him with, you stayed looking off at Dean, whose green eyes had taken a darkness. “What's wrong, guys?” Kevin asked, trying to sell the idea that he didn't know why they were upset.

“You think we're blind?” Dean leaned forward. “You've got more than enough access to her ‘prime real estate’, Kev. You don't need to be tryin’ to get more.”

“I… I mean, if she's uncomfortable with anything I've done, she should-”

“Y/n?” Gabriel called out.

“Yes, sir?”

“How you feel about this fucking disgrace sticking his fingers where they don't belong?”

“I don't like it, sir. He's not supposed to do that.”

“What do you think Dean and I should do about it, lollipop?”

“Whatever makes you happy, sir, but I'm partial to the head-splosion.”

You couldn't see Kevin's eyes go wide with fear, but you could see Dean lick his lips and Gabriel raise his hand. “I wanna make you happy, sweet stuff, but head-splody is such a Lucifer move. And it's a bitch to clean up.”

Dean stood up, phone going into his pocket as he walked around you to stand next to Kevin. “How about Kevin keeps his hands off'a our real estate, he doesn't make our girl feel any more uncomfortable than he already has, and maybe, just maybe, we don't kill him and wreck his shop?”

There was a moment of silence as Kevin debated with himself what to do and were they serious. “If you call the cops, they will arrive to blood and body parts viciously strewn around your shop. I don't usually go for the direct explosion death, I like a little more flair, but I'm more than capable of it.”

Kevin cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, I'll… I'm sorry. I'm gonna finish the, uh, the thing.”

“Good call.” Dean stepped back and looked down at you. “You need to move, baby girl?”

“May I, sir? This chair is very uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, why don't you get up and stretch, huh? Kev ain't comin’ near you again ‘til he stops pissin’ his pants.”

You stood, smiling, scene effectively paused as you stretched your arms across your chest. You turned to the mirror, ignoring the terror still on Kevin's face as you examined the start of the tattoo in the mirror. “Well, you're a terrifying guy, Dean,” Gabriel teased. “You shouldn't have been so hard on the man.”

“Me? You're the one talking about exploding the guy, name-dropping your brother ‘cause who's gonna be frightened of Gabriel: the trumpeter?”

“A lot of people!” Gabe defended.

“Maybe you as Loki, but not you as-”

“Guys!” you called out, before nodding your head toward Kevin, whose eyes were huge with shock. “Don't think he's quite ready for all that.” You turned to the mirror and smiled. “You're doing a wonderful job, Kevin. With the tattoo and the scene. Don't worry about my boys. They won't hurt you.”

“Speak for yourself, y/n. He touches that tit again and I'm gonna fuck him up.”

You rolled your eyes at Dean and shook your head. “He kinda has to if we want the tattoo finished. I mean, unless you want me to get possessed by demons.”

“What are you people?” Kevin asked.

“Well, one of us isn't even a people,” Dean joked, slapping his hand across Gabriel's ass.

“The short answer, Kev? Dangerous. Those two much more than me, and you had the bright idea to touch what belongs to them. So, ya know… you should refrain from that shit in the future.”

“Or you won't have a future,” Dean finished.

When you sat back down, Kevin started to tattoo you again, your head stayed turned to the corner where Dean was sitting. He moved quickly, without the inappropriate touching and without the praising remarks. Just Dean and breathing, Dean and breathing… pain and dizziness, pain and dizziness. Your breaths went heavy to compensate the flushing heat assaulting your skin.

“There she goes,” Gabe whispered to Dean as your eyes crossed, going unfocused as endorphins rushed through your system and all there was in your world was Dean. “She’s so cute in subspace.”

“Is she gonna pass out?” Kevin asked, but you didn’t hear him. All you could see was Dean. All you could hear was Gabe.

“Nah, she ain’t gonna pass out. Just finish the tat, man,” Dean demanded.

“She did pass out that one time, didn’t you, tootsie roll?”

“I awayaoh,” came out of your mouth but Gabe just nodded in complete understanding of your drugged-out mumbling.

“She only passed out because you didn't put the whip down when I said to.”

“I’m sorry, Dean, but what part of ‘archangel’ do you think puts you in charge, huh?” Gabriel gestured to himself, then Dean.

“Well, if you had listened, she wouldn't have passed out. Too much pain puts her over.”

“I know that, now, don't I?” Gabriel took your hand, kneeling next to you. “You good to go for her aftercare, Deanie Baby, or do you want me to handle it?”

Dean stood. “Huh, here I was thinking we were both her doms and we'd take care of her together.”

“Ya silly switch, you. Of course we can do it together. I thought you might wanna lose Words with your family some more, that's all.”

“The day I pick games on my phone over you and y/n, explode me.”

“Gonna hold you to that.” Gabriel popped to his feet, looking down at you as Kevin finished your tattoo, sliding petroleum jelly over the new symbol. “Great job, Kev. I'll take it from here,” he said, snapping his fingers.

“Gabe…” Dean's voice was full of warning.

“I didn't kill him. Just thought he should know what it feels like to be pawed at against his will.”

“Where is he?”

“Currently performing a striptease for a dozen ladies in their eighties.”

Dean chuckled as he reached down and picked you up. You nuzzled into his neck, still riding out your high. “Come on, let's get her home. She's gonna need to get her sugars back up after she's done in subspace.”

“And after that, we can see if I can get you there,” Gabriel said, quirking an eyebrow.

“Told you, man, I can't get there. Just can't let go enough.” Dean leaned down and pressed his lips to the archangel’s. “But I'm happy to let you try.” He winked as Gabriel reached out to take his hand. “Sir.”

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