#kinda…. it’s not really smut but it’s barely suggestive enough ig…. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hljkr · 4 years

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♤Red Lips | Ledger!Joker

red lips | ledger!joker

suspect(s): joker x reader

the crime committed: enamoured and charmed, moonlit late-night endeavours that were passionate with entwined bodies and intense orgasms. but there was just one thing missing from it all...

evidence: a lil’ swearing, titty grabbing, mentions of genitalia, suggested smut, intense kithes, joker’s kinda needy so ;))))), daddy kink, low key glove kink because I HAD to, y/n has a thing for scars and joker’s face (who doesn’t??), a like... pinch of angst??

- i had to do it to ‘em

(ok i really tried with this and by that i mean i spent a few hours on it with lousy editing buT this is my first time writing anything even slightly suggestive and with j so i hope this isn’t too bad??? just enjoy it ig djdshds)

Bunching the soft material of the blanket closer to your face, you let out a muffled whine as the insistent ringing of your annoying alarm clock rattled your eardrums and pulled you back down into reality and into a saddening state of consciousness. A shitty way to start the day after a blissful night only a few hours before. Last night had taken its toll on you physically, the bruises decorating your skin and scratch marks adorning your body were evidence enough but you loved and cherished every single one of them. Sighing contentedly, you thought over how amazing it was to be fucked into submission by the love and joy of your life, although he’d never explicitly ever put such a label on you. Even then, the sex was proof enough that he harboured some kind of feelings for you and that was enough to satiate your rapidly growing obsession with the killer clown all of Gotham feared.

Maybe falling in love with the mad man was a mistake, maybe he wasn’t good for you as all the city loved to preach. But who were they to ever have a say? They would never know him like you did, but admittedly even your knowledge of him was limited to what time he woke up and what time he returned. He’d never told you his name, would refuse to remove his protective layer of greasepaint no matter how much you begged and even his age was unanswered for. But what you did know was that he was your J and you’d do anything for him.

Nearly everything for him.

J was a complex and interesting person- his mannerisms and body language always screamed one thing only in the public eye but with you, he was (slightly) more careful, more passionate and while in front of everyone else he’d never be caught dead acting this way but with you, he was generous in multiple ways many could never even imagine him being. You considered yourself privileged to know the criminal mastermind of the city had a soft spot for you. And although you barely knew him, you weren’t afraid to be vulnerable with him. You’d gladly let him into your life and indulged him in your past and your secrets and gifted him your heart as well. But there was one thing that you could never deal with, and it was his lips.

The scars were gorgeous in your eyes, they only added to his already attractive appearance and made your heart leap from even looking at them. You loved to gently trace your fingertips over the smooth faded lines gracing his cheeks while he was resting, admiring them and have pride seep into your chest knowing how strong and resilient he was going through something so obviously traumatic and not allowing it to stop him from doing anything he wanted. But you didn’t lie to yourself, the things he wanted were questionable but you didn’t let it get the best of you. Being intimate with the green-haired clown, the sight of his scars made your arousal and lust for him reach heights you’d never experienced with any ordinary guy. His entire physique had you on your knees for him every day of the week without a fail.

But his lips, covered in the hauntingly familiar red paint that made you shiver at the thought of even touching with your lips. The amount he licked his lips in a day smudged and moistened the paint to a slimy consistency and it made shivers travel down your back. It made you weak in the knees in the worst way possible. For this reason, you absolutely refused to kiss him. And because of this rule, J was not a happy camper.

♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎

“Come on doll, why don’t you give your-a, J a little kiss?” The Joker cocked his eyebrow, staring down at you from the doorway as you absentmindedly flipped through the TV channels trying to figure out what to watch.

“Because it’s nasty, all your shitty paint is sweaty and wet and your lips are probably slimy from how much you lick them,” you scrunched your nose at the thought of it, shaking your head as you turned to face in his direction. He was visibly unamused and rolled his eyes.

“You're being drama-tic,” he groaned, adjusting his infamous purple coat and stalking towards you, “It’s just a little peck, princess, would it kill ya to show me a little loving?”

“Yes.”

Glaring into his empty eyes, you rose from your spot on the bed and stood in front of him. Your arms were crossed to try attempt to stand your ground, hoping that your stance would make him back down slightly. But this was J you were talking about and your sanguine theory was quickly disproven. Rolling his eyes, his hands immediately circled your waist and pulled you flush against his body. His sturdy chest was pressed against yours, allowing you to feel his steady heartbeat while yours was embarrassingly pounding out of your chest.

“Mmm, come on, doll,” his face was drawing closer to yours, sweat beginning to build up from the nerves. You’d probably fucked a million times and sucked his dick twice that, but kissing felt like a whole other... unpleasant territory.

“J,” you whispered, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you carefully considered your options. From close up, the red greasepaint seemed even more gooey and sticky and you visibly winced. There was no way you were going to kiss him, not with that mess all over his mouth.

Pressing a hand against his chest, you gently pushed him back. It was far enough for him to be an inch or two away from you. Unwinding his muscular arms from around your weaker body, you turned towards the door before looking back at him and giving him a sultry stare, “if your scars are anything to go by, you’re sexier without the greasepaint... just saying.”

♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎

A few days later, you were leaning against your kitchen counter and in desperate need of caffeine. Dumping the heaped spoon of coffee grounds into your mug, you idly stirred the drink as you peered around your home. It had been a while since you stayed the night at your house, mainly deciding to spend your days and nights with Joker wherever he decided to spend his time. This time, he’d insisted you stayed at your own place due to some stupid bank heist he was planning with his thugs and explained that ‘he wouldn’t tolerate any distractions.’

Sighing in boredom, you picked up the mug by the handle and carefully waddled over to your couch. Placing the cup onto your coffee table, you plopped down onto the couch and kicked your feet up onto the armrest. The first thing you did was turn the TV on, instantly turning to the news channel to see if J had been true to his word the previous night.

“We have just received reports of another one of The Joker’s-”

Scoffing in disbelief, you pulled yourself up on the couch before turning to another channel- not wanting to listen to how J had lied to you about his escapades only a few hours earlier. Whenever you saw him next you were determined to give him a piece of your mind, you decided. Bringing the boiling hot beverage up to your lips, you gulped down the caffeine that scorched your tongue and burned your throat as it trickled down into your stomach.

It wasn’t any secret, you despised J’s criminal ways and his cunning schemes and all the bad things he loved. You would never force him to stop, your main concern his safety and the thought of him teasing you with his gun and the thought of the sensation of his cool knife brushing against your skin made you hot and bothered. He was quick to calm your doubts and worries, reassuring you that the evil genius could never be killed or caught for long because he always had you to come back to.

Unfortunately, due to him knowing your qualms he tended to lie about his whereabouts to purge you of sleepless nights and restless days spent brooding over him.

“Asshole,” you whispered under your breath, going to take another big mouthful of the drink when it was promptly slapped out of your gasp and tumbled onto the carpet. It narrowly avoided your couch and was a hairs width of coming in contact with your skin.

“You-a, know you love me, Doll,” J’s rough dark voice came from behind you, every hair on your body standing on end as the reality of the situation dawned on you as your back straightened up in fear, “maybe a kiss will-a, make me feel better after you were so rude to Daddy.”

Breath hitching at his creative choice of wording, your core tingled from the excitement his words brought you. Nervously biting your bottom lip between your teeth, you froze as you felt J’s gloved hand sneak around to your front and rest just above your tits. The promise of his hands hidden behind purple leather touching you made you squirm in your seat. The delicious mix of fear and elation you felt began to cloud your better judgement, knowing deep down you should confront him about what he said but wanting to allow yourself to get carried away with him.

“A kiss? Nothing else?” you softly spoke, turning to face him with half-lidded eyes and an intense fire burning in your gut. Your eyes went to his at first, slowly analysing the rest of his features. The change didn’t register with you at first, your desire fogging your mind and didn’t allow you to see past the image of the regular J you were accustomed to.

“Is my-a, face as sexy as you imaged, Doll?”

Confusion coated your face, eyes frantically wandering around before they widened in awe at the tantalizing sight presented in front of you. His usual white and red paint had been wiped away, small traces of his black eye rimming paint remaining. He was understandably in a rush on his way to your place, but you looked past that as you took in the face of the person you loved.

Crashing his lips against yours, his chapped lips moved with vigour as he swallowed your needy whines and moans that sent heat to his hardening cock. His hand dropped and squeezed your breast painfully hard, but it made a gush of wetness leak from your deprived pussy. Twisting your erect nipple between his fingers, he pressed harder against your plump lips and easily coaxed out more sweet noises from your swollen lips.

“Fuck,” you gasped, hands lifting to grasp his green strands of hair and tugging hard on them, relishing in the grunt he lets out from the sapid stimulation. You felt like putty in his hands, ready to do anything he wanted just to please him. You wanted to ride his cock and see stars, satisfy him in ways that would have him cumming in seconds. And now without that muck coating his lips, your swollen pussy and kissable pink lips were more than willing to give him everything.

“On-a, all fours with your ass in the air, Princess. Daddy wants to have a little fun with his little girl before he-a, has to get back to work.”

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supernatural-jackles · 7 years

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Alone Together

Title: Alone Together

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 4,629

Warnings: Mild Angst, Fluff, Smut, Vulnerable!Dean,

Summary: Sam just took off for Stanford and Dean, well Dean took off without another word. Little did he know, he was going to run into someone who would change the rest of his life.

Request by @frootdollhouse: Hi can I have a imagine where Dean and his wife go for a ride alone to celebrate their 12 year wedding anniversary!

Listen to Renegade by Styx

A/N: This is my entry for @like-a-bag-of-potatoes Birthday/Follower Celebration! I hope you enjoy this one! Feedback is VERY appreciated! :)

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The day you met Dean Winchester was a day you’d never forget. You were twenty-two, just dropped out of college, and working in a diner to save up enough money to travel somewhere to get a fresh start. You desperately wanted a fresh start. You desperately craved that freedom.

You were working the first twelve hour shift of the week, and you had four more to go before you had your two days off. You were having a crappy day, although, most of your days were crappy in that diner. Your boss had it out for you, and your co-workers were very tight and you disrupted their group by working there. You weren’t super thin, and had more drama going on in your life that anything else. You were normal. You were plain. You were just you.

There was an hour left of your shift when a man with short, light brown hair wandered in. His bowlegs taking him to the middle table by the window. He never bothered to shrug off his old, worn down and almost oversized brown leather jacket off as he took his seat. He was alone by the looks of it, and by the way he wasn’t eyeing the entire room, you knew he wasn’t waiting for someone to come and join him.

God, was he attractive. His jawline was close to damn near perfect. He was tall, and definitely built. How did he not have a woman with him? A man like him had to be taken by some beautiful woman that was perfect in every aspect.

Luckily for you, he was sitting in your section and you were the one who got to serve him.

You walked over to his table, trying to build up as much confidence as you could in so little time. After all, he was just another guy. He was a person and that really shouldn’t scare you. And what were the chances he was going to see you ever again after this? Slim to none. He had his menu in his hand, but somehow, he looked a little lost and out of it, like something had just happened to him.

“Hi there, what can I get for you today?” you questioned, mustering up your most sincere smile.

“A time machine to go back twenty-four hours?” he joked, but he clearly wasn’t laughing. “I’m kidding, just a coffee, black.”

“Nothing to eat?” you asked softly.

“Nahh, not really in the mood for anything more,” he shrugged. “But thanks, Y/N.”

“I’ll be back with your coffee sir,” you smiled as you walked off to the counter. You couldn’t deny the way your heart skipped in your chest when he said your name. It sounded so different rolling off his tongue. It was almost beautiful sounding. Thank god for your name tag. But then again, you didn’t stand a chance with this man.

You went back to his table, placing the mug in front of him before pouring the freshly brewed pot of coffee in it. He was staring out the window, as if he was waiting for someone to walk by. He had a lot on his mind by the looks of it.

“Thanks,” he muttered. You offered him a small smile before taking off back to the counter. He had to have been the most attractive man you had ever laid eyes on. His piercing green eyes that met yours for just a moment had stories upon stories to tell. He was tired; looking like he hadn’t slept in a little while. You had been there. You knew the look well.

You checked on him about twenty minutes later, making sure he was still good with his single cup of black coffee. You brewed a fresh pot, taking it with you just in case he wanted some more. He was still staring out the window, the disappointment growing more and more as each minute passed by.

“More coffee, sir?” you inquired.

“Uh, maybe a little more,” he nodded. “Hey, what time do you get off?”

“When I can,” you joked. When he didn’t laugh at your joke, your cheeks instantly grew red in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. Bad joke. I finish work in about twenty.”

“Do you maybe want to grab a drink or something?” he questioned. At first you thought he was crazy. Why would a man like that want to take a girl like you out for drinks? But there was no way you were going to pass it up. You’d hate yourself forever if you did.

“Absolutely,” you agreed.

Of course the final twenty minutes of your shift was the longest. When you were on break it passed quicker than an ambulance did on it’s way to an accident, but when you a hot guy asks you to have a couple of drinks with him, it’s like watching paint dry.

Mystery man was waiting for you outside the diner, leaning against a clean, black chic, old car that you hadn’t seen in a long time. It actually looked like one of the cars your rich neighbors had when you were growing up. Clearly this man took good care of his car. You unfastened your waitress apron and tied the strings around it so you could put it in your small bag. Your outfit wasn’t the worst looking. A pair of jeans and a simple black fitted t-shirt with a pair of black converse, but you certainly weren’t dressing to impress. It was just what you decided to wear to work.

“So which bar do you want to head to?” you asked him. He simply shrugged, but not to be rude by any means.

“Which one is the best?” he cocked his eyebrow.

“There is one a few blocks away from here that is bigger than all the other ones. More seats if that’s what you’re looking for,” you suggested.

“Sounds perfect,” he chuckled, pushing off his car. He propped the passenger door open for you before he hopped in the driver’s side.

He didn’t speak much on the way to the bar. The soft sounds of an old Styx cassette played in the background, along with the purr of the car engine. It occurred to you then that it was completely unlike you to get in a car with some stranger that you didn’t know the first name of. But you weren’t scared, or even nervous. There was something about this guy that was just different. A big part of you thinks he asked you to go with him tonight because he needed some company; a friend.

He picked a back booth for the two of you to sit in. The beginning of a classic AC/DC song riffed through the air, people were up and dancing along to the music, most of them too drunk to realize that they were dancing like complete fools and it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet.

“So stranger, first round’s on me,” you stated. “You look like you could use a drink or two.”

You settled for a few shots of whiskey and two beers, hoping it would help this man relax a little. He looked like the kind of guy who enjoyed a good glass of whiskey every now and again.

“It’s Dean,” he said lowly. “My name is Dean.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Dean,” you beamed. He down his shot of whiskey, then another, allowing it to slowly burn down his throat. “So, what’s a guy like you doing by yourself in a town like this. I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Long story. Nothing too exciting,” he brushed it off. “What’s a girl like you doing working in a diner? No offense sweetheart, but you look like you should be going to an Ivy league college and married to some investment banker or something.”

“I really look like that?” you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Well, a little.”

“It’s funny you say that actually,” you smiled. “I dropped out of Harvard, pre-med and my boyfriend of four years just broke up with me because apparently I wasn’t good enough for him. So I guess you’re kinda right?”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” he said instantly.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m trying to keep it together,” you assured him. “Everything happens for a reason right?”

“Yeah, something like that,” he added, taking a swing of his beer. “My uh- my brother just left my family yesterday to go to college. Stanford.”

“That’s good right?”

“Well yeah. But it’s only me, my brother and my dad. We’ve got this- this family business and it’s kinda a big deal that he left,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“I didn’t even know he wanted out. I didn’t know he wanted to go to college and then one day he ups and walks out without explaining everything further. I’m never going to understand,” he said as he picked at the label on his beer.

“Maybe that’s okay. Maybe you just need some time to yourself, to discover what you need instead of what your family needs. Take it from someone who literally just walk away from Harvard, who just lost the guy who could possibly have been the only love of my life, and is now working as a waitress even though I have no idea what I’m going to do. Life moves forward and it’s okay to be alone for awhile,” you told him before throwing back your drink.

“You think?”

“I have to. It’s the only thing that’s keeping me going.”

“Guess we’ve both got a lot going on then,” he chuckled. “Have you lived here long?”

“A couple of months. I still haven’t told my mom I dropped out of school, and I don’t plan on it. I’m just trying to save up enough for a fresh start. I mean I live in a shoebox apartment and sleep on a couch. I own maybe five outfits and I barely have enough money to buy groceries but I know somehow, someway, I’m going to make it. I don’t have a choice,” you revealed.

“I’ve lived in motel’s from the age of four onwards. Believe me when I say I get it,” he stated. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Wait, where are we going?” you questioned.

“We’re going to get out of here.”

“I barely know you, Dean. You could be a serial killer for all I know,” you argued.

“I am a serial killer, but you’re safe ‘cause you ain’t on my list. The second you want out, you’re free to leave. Let’s just get out of here. This bar sucks,” he urged you with an unknowing look. If you were to explain it to the cops, you would say he was almost happy. You couldn’t deny that it was exciting. It was an adventure and you were dying for one. You lived the same life, day in day out. This, this was daring. This is something the old you never would have done. This was a foot on the fresh start side.

Dean paid off the tab before the two of you were racing out of the bar into the cool night. You had a smile plastered on your face for the first time in a long time. His ‘67 impala sped down the empty roads and you had no idea where he was headed, nor did you really care. You had an attractive as hell man sitting in the driver's seat of a classic car.

He served into a motel parking lot and parked right in front of the stairs to go up to the second floor. Room 208. He fumbled with the key card, and you couldn’t help but smile. Mistakes were going to be made and quite frankly, you didn’t care. You were going to look back on this one day and think of Dean as a happy thought. The one who started you on your journey to your destination.

The door opened and he pulled you in with him. Both of you were thinking the exact same thing. Your lips collided, hands flew to grasp each other as he pressed you against the wall next to the door. God, if his kiss didn’t make you weak in the knees. He was just everywhere. His hands couldn’t stay still, then again, neither could yours. You wanted to feel every inch of him, with your fingertips and your tongue.

You shoved his jacket off his shoulders, along with his blue button down shirt. He practically ripped your shirt from your body. He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him. Clothes scattered everywhere as you steadily made your way to the bed in the middle of the room. You were so ready for him and he had barely even touched you. You narrowed it down to the fact that you hadn’t gotten laid in months, and that Dean was well, Dean. He was rough and firm, just what you needed in that moment.

You stood naked in front of him. His bottom lip pulled between his teeth. You bit back a moan as he stripped his boxers off his body, his hard cock standing proud. Your mouth was watering at the sight of him. There was a confidence there that you didn’t have before. Maybe it was that Dean was never going to see you again after this and it wouldn’t matter if you were all over him. It was a one night stand after all. He didn’t know you and you certainly didn’t know him. You didn’t care if he judged how much of a stomach you had, or the fact that you didn’t have the perkiest boobs in the world. Hell, you didn’t care how he saw you. It wasn’t going to matter twelve hours from now.

You pushed him down on the bed, his body bouncing on the old mattress as you climbed over him. There was no way you weren’t ready to take him. You were practically dripping at the mere sight of him naked. You were aching to feel him inside of you, filling you up in the best way.

His hands were on you instantly, gripping your hips as you straddled his waist. You took his hard length, lining him up with your entrance before sinking down on him, letting out an almost sinful moan as you did. His cock stretched your walls more than you expected him to and dear god, was it the best feeling you had ever encountered. Your fingers dug into the flesh of his shoulders for a moment. Your body stilled as you leaned down, capturing his lips in a needy, wet kiss before you raised your body and slammed down on him. He let out a small grunt, his grip squeezing slightly as you began your movements. He was mesmerized by you in a way. He couldn’t take his eyes off you for a second. Whether it was your face, or your breasts, or the way his cock was pushing into you over and over.

His hand reached down, stroking your clit in alignment with your steady pace. A layer of sweat was covering your body and you only confirmed that when your hand travelled up to cup your breast. He loved the show you were putting on.

He bucked his hips up against yours, grabbing your hips to flip you over. Your back hit the mattress and he slammed into you, over and over. You cried out as his balls slapped against you. You felt that familiar burn in your abdomen, and you knew you were growing closer and closer each time he drove into you.

Your legs snaked around his ass, pulling him into you as your hips moved to meet his. You clung onto him, your breasts pressing against his chest as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. Your eyes slammed shut, your breathing grew louder and shallower.

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” you choked out.

“Come for me. Come around my dick, sweetheart,” he breathed out. You threw your head back against the pillow as your back arched off the mattress. Dean pecked your lips before he sat up, thrusting into your over and over. He hit your sweet spot once more and pleasure sparked through your body. You moaned loudly, crying out his name as your hands fisted the sheets beneath you. His thumb rubbed your clit, intensifying your orgasm almost more than you could handle. Your body was quaking, your nerves were on fire, and your heart was pounding in your chest as your walls pulsed around him, squeezing him tightly.

“Fuck, I’m-”

He managed to thrust three more times before he pulled out of you completely, spilling himself onto your stomach in white ribbons. He let out a louder groan that you expected from him, and if it wasn’t the sexiest sound you had ever heard. It was almost enough to make you come again. Your walls were clenching around nothing at the sound of it. It was by far the best sex you had ever had.

He collapsed next to you, trying to get his breathing under control, so were you. The huffs and puffs were the only sound in the room. You felt like you needed a long shower but you knew with the way he just fucked you, there was no way you were getting off this bed without wiping out.

“Well,” you breathed out.

“So that just happened,” he chuckled.

“No shit, Sherlock,” you giggled.

“Shower?”

“Unless you want to carry me there. There is no way I’m getting up,” you stated. He rolled off the bed, taking you in his arms in one quick movement, like you weighed nothing.

The two of you stood in the shower, each washing your own bodies. You couldn’t understand how easy things were with Dean. You knew nothing about him, and yet, it felt completely normal to be showering with him, as if you had done it a thousand times before. It was like you were long lost friends.

----------------

“Y/N, wake up,” you heard softly. You had no idea who was saying it, nor did you really care. You weren’t for waking up.

“No, go away,” you muttered.

“That’s cute. But seriously, you have to get up. We have to get out of here,” the voice said, almost panicked sounding. Wait, a male voice?

“Five more minutes,” you ushered.

“Y/N, I swear to god, I will carry you from this motel room, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want the cops to see your very naked ass as I carry you to impala,” he whisper yelled.

“Cops?” you shot up. “Why are the cops here? What happened? What did I do? I swear, I didn’t do anything-”

“Sweetheart, shh. It’s okay. Put this shirt on. Your jeans are at the end of the bed. Just hurry, I’m getting the both of us out of here,” he assured you.

You didn’t question him, you didn’t have time to. Instead, you did what he asked. You threw on the blue flannel shirt of his, and your jeans from the night before as quickly as you possibly could. Dean had his duffle bag in hand. Everything from the night before had to be in his bag.

The two of you made a beeline for his car. He urged you to climb in from the driver’s seat, and just like that, you were peeling out of the parking lot at a fast speed. The loud siren of a cop car filled your ears. You glanced behind you to find two cop cars behind Dean’s car with their lights flashing.

“Dean, what’s going on?” you questioned, panicking about what was about to happen.

“I promise, I’ll explain everything, but we have to get away from these cop cars. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, I swear,” he assured you.

“Okay,” you breathed out.

Dean was driving like a bat out of hell, trying to get you both away from the cops as fast as you possibly could. You were growing more and more anxious with each second that went by. You pushed in the cassette and thankfully his Styx album was still in. You turned up the volume to Renegade, which was an oddly ironic song to be playing as you were being chased by the police.

“Really Y/N?”

“The jig is up, the news is out, they finally found me,” you winked at him. “Come on, you can’t deny that this is an awesome song to play right now?”

“You’re something else,” he let out a nervous laugh.

“I know. This is the only thing that’s going to keep me calm so don’t turn it off,” you warned him.

Twenty minutes later, a minor panic attack and some slight motion sickness, Dean had finally ditched the cops and you were pulled into some back trail that definitely wasn’t driven on often enough. That’s when he got out of the car, pulling you with him and he explained what happened to you.

Dean Winchester was his name. He was a hunter, and not the typical kind of hunter. Turns out there was a hunt in the motel he was staying at last night, a werewolf, which made complete sense with the full moon and he killed it early this morning while he was going out to grab breakfast for the two of you, which made your heart flutter in your chest at the thought. The housekeeper was making her way to work when she heard the gunshot, and that’s why you had to get out as quickly as possible.

“I’ll take you back to your apartment when I know things are safe. I’m sorry to have gotten you involved,” he said lowly.

“It’s okay, Dean.”

He drove you back to your apartment a few hours later. Everything had settled down, and thankfully your apartment was on the other side of town to the motel. It never even occurred to you that you skipped out on work for the day. It felt like you were living this whole other life and for once, it wasn’t completely awful. You didn’t dread it like you did every other day of your life. For once, you weren’t alone. You actually had more than a “what can I get for you today?” conversation with someone.

He walked you to your apartment door and you were almost ashamed to open the door. There was nothing inside by a couch, your bag and a tiny kitchen. Dean’s motel room was twice as big as your apartment. You weren’t doing nearly as good as you thought you were.

“You gonna be okay, sweetheart?” he questioned.

“Yeah, I think so. It’s okay to be alone for awhile right?” you chuckled almost weakly.

“Something like that,” he shrugged.

“Take care of yourself, Winchester,” you smiled.

“Come with me,” he whispered.

“W-what?”

“Come with me,” he repeated, louder this time. “Let’s be alone together. ‘Cause I know the second I walk away from you, I’m going to want to come right back. You’re not happy here. Let’s get your fresh start somewhere else.”

“Are you serious? You barely know me,” you said almost sadly.

“Yeah! I have all the time in the world to get to know you. So grab your bag and whatever else you need and let’s go to the Grand Canyon, or Disney World,” he smiled enthusiastically.

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I’m more than sure.”

--------------Present Time---------------

“What are you thinking about, beautiful?” Dean questioned as he took your hand in his.

“The day we met,” you beamed.

“That was a good day. That was the day both of our lives changed forever,” he smiled widely as he watched the road in front of him.

“Who would have thought that day that we’d be here, on our twelfth wedding anniversary. I never thought you’d put up with my ass for that long,” he chuckled. You could see his mind was reeling in thought as he spoke.

“I’m rather fond of your ass. It’s the sexiest ass I’ve ever seen,” you told him. “Although, I have to say, I was going to set that ass of yours on fire when you sold your soul.”

------------Twelve Years Ago-----------------

“What do you mean you sold your soul, Dean?” you asked calmly, trying to keep yourself from flipping on him.

“I wasn’t about to let my little brother die. I couldn’t have him dead, Y/N. I couldn’t. He’s my brother!” Dean defended.

“So what, you’ve got ten years? Ten years is nothing, Dean!” you said loudly. He was shaking his head, not daring to meet your eyes. “How long, Dean?”

“A year.”

“A year? A fucking year to live! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Y/N. He’s my brother,” he breathed out.

“And what am I? Chopped liver? Did you not think about what this would do to me? I have been by your side for six years Dean! Six fucking years and for what Dean? For you to make a demon deal? This is how this is going to end?” Tears streaked down your cheeks at a steady rate.

“I’m sure we can find a way out-”

“There is no way out of a demon deal, you asshole! We both know that,” you yelled loudly. “God I hate you!”

“Y/N! Y/N! Don’t you walk away from me!”

“Why? You’re the one who just signed your life away. Why can’t I walk away to wrap my head around the fact that my idiot of a boyfriend sold his fucking soul and has a year to live. Excuse me for needing some space.”

------------Present Time-------------------

“Hey, I’m here aren’t I?” he chuckled.

“Not funny,” you scolded.

“If I can survive Hell, Purgatory, the angels falling, Crowley, Lucifer when he possessed my brother and tried to take over the world, and the darkness, we can survive everything. You have been my reason to keep fighting the fight from the second I met you and that’s never going to change. I meant it when I said I would love you for the rest of my life.”

“I love you too, Mr Winchester.

------------------Twelve Years Ago-------------------------

“Y/N Y/L/N, do you take Dean Winchester to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or worse, for richer or poor and in sickness and in health?” the pastor said.

“I do,” you smiled as tears welled in your eyes.

“Dean Winchester, do you take Y/N Y/L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, for better or worse, for richer or poor and in sickness and in health?”

“I sure do.”

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Dean didn’t have to be told twice. His arms wrapped around the small of your back and his lips collided with yours. You could instantly taste the spearmint gum he had been chewing moments before the wedding started. It was by far the smallest wedding you had seen. Bobby, Sam, Ellen and Jo; the four people that meant the most to you and Dean. It was damn perfect and you couldn’t have asked for a better wedding.

-------------Present Time-----------

“So where are we headed anyways, Winchester?” you questioned.

“The last place you’d ever think of,” he winked.

“The motel where we first hooked up,” you guessed.

“God dammit. How the- you know what, never mind. I already know how you figured it out.”

“Because I love you and you love me, and I’ve known you for sixteen years. You ain’t getting nothing past me Dean Winchester. The jig is up.”

The day you met Dean Winchester was the best day of your life.

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