#spnsecretsantaficexchange

[jay-and-dean]

Yet another thing to celebrate

Dean x reader

Summary (I used the requester’s words) :  Reader’s birthday is on Christmas Eve, which generally sucks because everyone is either skint or celebrating Christmas.

Warnings : Fluffy fluff with a little fluff whipped cream on top. Very implied smut.

Wordcount : 3.6k

Note : This is my fic for @girl-next-door-writes Secret Santa (I reaaally hope you like it lovely, merry Christmas and happy birthday) hosted by @negans-lucille-tblr​ on @spnsecretsantaficexchange​.

I also made my participation to the amazing @acklesterritory​‘s celebration challenge, in the fic, my prompt was “I saw that, you just checked me out”, it’s bold in the fic.

The song refered to is She’s always a woman, by Billie Joel.

The text dividers are from the great @firefly-graphics​

Jay’s Masterlist

          Christmas…

           Before you even open your eyes, you sigh, grabbing the soft pillow in your fist and nuzzling on its softness in a sleepy grunt.

You don’t hate this day, but it often makes you a little sad despite your will to enjoy it fully. It is your birthday. December 24, the busiest day in the country, damn, in the whole West. And even if you are not the kind to want the full attention on you, to be spoiled or anything, you just wish sometimes that, for once, you could have a proper birthday.

           When you were a teen, you more than once even dared dreaming of a party you could throw, but Christmas is about family and basically about everyone. Not you.

           You dream of a little birthday party with friends, some drinks, music, maybe dancing a little... But it would be impossible unless you do it way before or way after, and it wouldn't really be the same...

           This year is different though.

           This winter, even if the celebration of your birth was totally forgotten, you don’t need anything more than what you have now. And what you have is Dean Winchester. Nothing is more important than that, nothing can make you happier.

           In fact, nothing can really make you feel any other way than blessed after this summer. After Dean kissed you on that hunt, after you two had sex in the Impala on your way home ; after later he asked you to stay in his bed for the night that other evening you both ended up naked. And finally, after he asked you to stay in his room for good a few weeks later, and started calling you his girlfriend.

           You smile thinking of waking up next to him and move your feet to find his behind you. But when you don’t, you turn and rub your eyes before opening them.

           Empty. Your shared bed is empty.

“Dean ?” is the first word you say, but the room stays cruelly silent.

Of course… It’s Christmas. He must be busy, like everyone is always on that day… The sting on your heart comes back... You have woken up with the man you love every single morning for the last few months, but not today.

           That is how lame your birthday can be.

           After staying in bed almost one hour, trying to shake that blues off by thinking of how blessed you are, you finally are about to get up and face that stolen day, but the door opens slowly.

           You close your eyes, not really knowing why, maybe just to avoid having to find an explanation for not getting up before if you were awake. The bed moves under Dean’s weight as he crawls on it slowly but you don’t move, even when he clumsily crushes your arm a little while hovering you.

“Happy birthday Baby” he whispers with his coffee breath close to your face. “Have you decided to skip today ? It’s almost noon.”

“Mh…��� you hum, lifting your arms to reach his neck, desperate to feel his skin. “Thank you.”

You hesitate a second, wanting to ask him why he got up without you today, why he didn’t wake you with kisses and sweet words like he often does, but you don’t say anything, grateful enough that he got tired of you not being with him and came to get you.

           He lets a part of his weight fall on you, making you huff and laugh softly. His scruff scratches your shoulder, the rough fabric of his jeans is uncomfortable and his belt is digging to your hip but you wouldn't change a thing.

           Your hand goes to his neck and massages it softly, he hums, and you feel his body softly relax. You always know just how to calm him, how to make him fall back asleep after a nightmare, how to make his muscles calm after the roughest hunts. But after less than a minute, he grunts, sitting up.

"No, no" he shakes his head. "You're not making me skip that day with you ! Get up Baby."

He grabs your shoulders and playfully shake them, not realizing that even his kidding strength is huge.

"Geeet uuuup" he chuckles when your whole body is shaken and your laugh sounds funny because of it.

           The warm water runs along your hair and down your spine, and a soft steam fills the bathroom. For sure, that was a great late breakfast, with pancakes Dean had made for you, and his little stolen kisses.

           He is really making this day better.

           Maybe you can forget about your birthday now, and just enjoy Christmas like a normal person. You are loved, and you are happy, you don't need anything else.

           Washing your hair, you smile thinking of the tree the boys have bought, so big that they struggled to carry it up the stairs. You chuckle at thinking of Dean grumbling about the thorns covering Baby's seats. They even bought bags mysterious decorations and fairy lights they never let you see. The library now smells like Christmas tree.

           We're celebrating this year, Dean said. And in the years you have known the Winchesters, you indeed never saw them put so much effort in a holiday.

           A lot of things keep surprising you.

           Sam once told you that his brother had changed a lot since he was with you, making you worry more than anything else. You never wanted Dean to change, you love Dean just the way he is... Then you understood what Sammy was saying...

           You understood in the little things. Like Dean's new love for late mornings in bed, like him drinking a little less, being a little less reckless during hunts, humming in the shower, letting go more in bed, allowing himself to give up the constant control he has on himself... And in his will to celebrate Christmas. Dean is not different, he is just happier.

           Your eyes get a little wet with joy at the thought while your rub your body with the delicious smelling foam.

           Forget your birthday, if Dean's happiness demands this day to be the Christmas he didn't have as a kid, the Christmas he is finally allowing himself to want, then you are honored to help him make it perfect.

           You step out of the shower and your eyes meet the big mirror. In the middle of it, written with a big finger on the thick steam : "I love you Y/n".

           Your choice is made : This will be Christmas. This will be anything to make that man as lucky as you are.

"How can I help ?" you say, entering the kitchen where Dean is apparently trying to make cookies, wearing this apron he only puts on for great occasions.

"I'm making cookies men like in Shrek" he says pointing to the not-so-bad gingerbread biscuits he already cooked with his finger covered in dough.

           You come behind him and wrap your arms around his middle, forehead on his back, just feeling his breathing for a second. Dean doesn't stop what he is doing because he is used to you tenderly and randomly holding him, his clean fingers only come to gently caress your arm for a second before he shapes another cookie, chuckling when he adds a tiny penis to the little guy.

"I love you too" you murmur, nose grazing his back to bath in his smell.

He hums.

"We will eat dinner pretty early, I hope you're hungry" he says, looking at his watch. "I want to enjoy some time with my girl after."

You smile, getting on your tiptoes to kiss the uncovered skin of his neck above the collar of his flannel. He wants a lazy evening, making love like you do, or maybe try a kinky thing ; what is sure is you will gladly give him what he wants.

           Time goes by sweetly as you watch this deadly warrior check the turkey while his equally legendary warrior brother prepares another round of eggnog for the three of you. They move around like busy bees in the room and it's a perfect show.

           You sit on the counter, talking about silly things, sometimes doing something to help, when your boyfriend lets you. You keep sipping from the sugary drink, and watching the beauty of Dean just be before your eyes. Unaware of how perfect he is in his every moves, he just works with his strong arms and skilled hands.

           Your eyes linger a little along his thick thighs, and you bend your head to the side to enjoy the exquisite sight of the sensual curve of his butt.

"I saw that, you just checked me out" he says in a smile without even turning around.

"And ?" you let out in a chuckle. "What are you going to do about that ?"

At your surprise, he starts to rock his hips from right to left slowly in clumsy funny moves of his butt, like he wanted to sexy dance for you without stopping what he is doing, earning an eye roll from his brother when his hip hits him on his way.

           Christmas is already perfect.

           The table is beautiful. Different courses in pretty plates you didn't know the guys had filling it like you have only seen in the movies. There is way too much food for three people but you are so happy that your beloved Winchester can eat like they want for Christmas eve.

           Everything is pretty, the giant messy tree has real bright decorations on it and there are even a few presents at its feet, wrapped messily in colorful papers.

           But their most impressive work is the light in the room, changing the place completely. Almost none of the artificial lights of the bunker is on, and a subdued ambiance with fairy lights and candles make it look even more magical than it usually is.

"When did you find the time to do all that ?" you smile with unintended wetness in your enthralled eyes. "It looks... enchanted in here."

"You stayed in bed until noon" Dean says in a light chuckle, pulling a chair for you and putting a kiss on your cheek. "Merry Christmas baby."

"It's perfect, Deanie" you turn your head so his next kiss lands on the corner of your mouth. "Merry Christmas guys."

Sam sits, rubbing his hands at the sight of the turkey, and starts reminding his brother of an old memory of a past Christmas you listen with all your focus. Everything that can make you know more about their life always catches your full attention. You are, after all, their biggest fan.

           The story is about a Christmas when Dean was a teen. He had spent the night between 23th and 24th December with a girl and was really late to come back to the motel. Sam thought maybe he wouldn't be back for diner, he had already taken the cereals out of the closet when Dean showed up carrying the whole cooked Turkey he had stolen from the girl's parents.

           You look at your boyfriend with all the love in the world and bend to give him a kiss on the forearm while he cuts a piece of this not stolen meat for you.

"Her parents were dicks, and I couldn't let you starve, dad would have killed me" Dean chuckles, filling your plate.

           But you know the story must be really different from just that, Dean never brags about how great he was with Sam.

           You let out a little moan, tasting the food and Dean’s face is lit by a wide proud grin.

“It’s good ?” he asks before he even tastes, an excited hope in his eyes.

“Delischious” you answer with your mouth full, a hand before it.

           And indeed, everything is perfect. Dean, as much as Sam can playfully denies it, is a great cook. He has no technique, no cooking education, but what he has is a real love for food and comfort, a great experience on mixing things and tasting that gives him a perfect intuition. And, above all, the strong selfless will of saying "I love you" with food like some people have.

           Sitting on the floor next to the tree, you hold against you the red flannel Dean finally agreed to give you, and the books Sam bought for you. Your head is leaning lovingly on your lover's shoulder while he looks, exited, at the vinyl records he got, humming his favorite songs.

           You crawl between his thighs and rest your back on his chest, your head back, temple grazing his scruff.

"Best Christmas ever" you smile, feeling his lips graze your cheek. "So what is the program of a Winchester Christmas after that ?"

You close your eyelid and take a deep breath of Dean's scent, expecting a sexy proposition.

"We're going somewhere" he smiles, and, when you open your eyes, you see Sam put on his coat.

"Now ?" you frown, a little confused. "Where ?"

Dean gets up, putting you on your feet with his strong arm, and takes his coat and yours from Sam's hands.

"I'm not telling you. Take your jacket and get in the car."

           He is silent on the road despite all your questions.

           You listen to the car's purring and look outside to try to guess where they are taking you. The white snow covers the sides of the road with a very thin and delicate layer, the headlights are hit with little swirling snowflakes, and no clue betrays their surprise.

           Sam is smiling, looking out the window. You know they have been planning something, and you know you will love it. Maybe they will show you a place they used to go when they were kids, maybe take you to a special place where you can see the stars so clearly, like this time last summer.

"Come on Dean" you say, kneeling on Baby's back seat to wrap your arms around him from behind, going down a little to feel his firm chest though his shirt under your palms. "Tell me."

"You can't wait just five minutes" he tries to grunt, but it sounds more like a chuckle.

           You fall silent, not letting go of him, holding him like the precious treasure he is, occasionally smelling his hair, kissing his shoulder and tracing the contours of his ear. You just can't stop touching him, and since that talk you had after sex once, you know how much he loves it.

"Aw" Sam mocks you like he often does. "You two are so cute."

"Fuck yeah we are" Dean groans, turning right to a one way road.

"You know Christmas is already perfect" you smile. "You don't have to surprise me again."

"Yeah, I know" he says, parking in front of a bar. "But, it's not only Christmas today."

           You look around, confused. The guys open the door, letting the freezing cold enter the Impala, and get out in a perfect sync. You follow them, lifting your eyes to the colorful neon lights reflecting in the snowy night. Around on the parking lot, more cars than you would have expected are parked, and you wonder who would spend Christmas eve in a bar like this one.

           But before you can wonder why they would have taken you there, to this bar you never heard off, your boyfriend's hand wraps around your waist and he guides you inside, pushing the heavy doors.

           The first thing that hits you is the perfect warmth of the inside. The temperature is perfect but not only : the music is smooth like honey, it's this kind of blues that is paradoxically happy and comforting, it smells like wood and whiskey ; and above all, here too, there is something about the light that feels like a hug.

           The second thing that hits you is the welcoming familiar face of Garth smiling to you.

"Garth ?" you frown and feel Dean's lips graze your ear. "Happy birthday Baby."

He lets go of you to walk to the people there at the bar, arms open to greet them, letting you stunned.

           You are recognizing all you friends there, still in their Christmas clothes, walking to you to hug you and bring you drinks and for a few seconds, your body just stays still.

           No one is missing, not one person. And, even if you don't have hundreds of friends since you joined the hunter life, you have never seen a room so full of love.

"Let me take your coat" Jody says, seeing you froze to the spot.

"I... You're here for me ? Th-they planned all that ?" you stammer with some watery emotions filling your eyes.

"Dean did" Jody smiles. "We followed."

             You're sipping from that delicious drink the bartender made according to your tastes, unable to take that smile off of your face. Donna, a little tipsy in her pretty outfit, is telling sexy jokes with a full dimpled smile, making Sam chuckle and Charlie high-five her, spilling a little of her drink on you.

           From the corner of your eye, you look at him.

           He is bending on the pool table with a smirk, his beer next to him. From here, you can't hear what he is saying to the other players, but it seems a little cocky. After only a few seconds staring at him, it's like he felt it and he looks up, giving you the cutest wink.

           And you blush. Because even after all you have lived together, even after the kinky experiences, the intimate moments, after seeing him cry, yell, suffer or come... A wink is still enough to turn you to a blushing mess.

           All evening, he has been keeping his distance just a little. Not avoiding you at all but not clinging to you, to let you enjoy your friends, to let you have the full experience of a birthday party like you dreamed of since you were a teen.

           A birthday with loud silly discussions, a lot of drinks, inventing silly tipsy games with your best friends, trading your clothes in the bathroom, catching up as much as dancing with each other... And you never felt loved that much.

           Dean's love is the sun in the middle of your world, but now you can also see the stars, and it is probably the best night of your life so far.

           He managed to do something you never could for years and all your friends agreed with his crazy plan. They all had an early Christmas diner to be able to drive here, offer you too many drinks and be there for you. They all made it about you and you're both incredibly grateful and emotional. And since most of them will come sleep at the bunker -and eat all the leftovers with you tomorrow- you don't have to care about the time.

           Suddenly, a music note catches your ear.

           You know that note by heart. It is the first note of your favorite love song, it is the firsts notes of what Dean hums in your ear sometimes when he holds you after making love to you, pushing your hair on the side to see your sweaty bliss face.

           You turn you head and meet green eyes, closer than you expected.

"Hey" he says, taking your hand.

"Hey" you smile.

He tugs gently at your arm, pulling you away from the bar to wrap his arms around your waist.

           You have missed him. Of course he was here, but after everything he has done for you, you really have missed holding him, smelling his skin and kissing his lips.

           He starts to sway his hips really slightly, humming the love words of the song, and you throw your arms around his neck, looking up at his perfect face.

"She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes..." he whispers the lyrics, fingers grazing the skin of your neck.

And for the hundredth time today, your eyes fill with happy tears while his fingertips go down on your back to hold your waist again.

"Are you having fun ?" he asks low, one hand stroking your lower back tenderly, thumb pushing your shirt up discreetly to feel your skin.

"It's the best night of my life" you give him your most sincere smile. "Dean... You are really incredible, you know that ?"

"Yeah" he nods, hiding his shyness in a kiss on your lips.

"I really was ready to chose Christmas, you know ?" you state, swaying your hips slowly with him, forgetting the rest of the world in your bubble of love.

His plumb lips gently raise on the corner, and he lets go of you to search his pocket.

"I didn't have to choose between hunter life and happy life thanks to you, so I'll make sure you never have to choose between your birthday and Christmas" he murmurs in your ear, before kissing your temple.

His hand reach yours and he opens it to put a little thing on your palm.

"What do you say we had yet another thing to celebrate on that day ?" his breath tickles  your neck and you look down to your hand, discovering a little golden ring with a tiny blue stone in the middle of your shaking palm.

"Dean ?"

"Marry me Baby ?"

FEEDBACK IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME

Tags : @parinarain​​ @mogaruke​​ @masterof-agony​​ @rainflowermoon @tftumblin​​ @deans-baby-momma​​ @roonyxx​​ @thefaithfulwriter​​ @vicariouslythruspn​​ @emeow1496​​ @daryldixonandfrogs​​ @holylulusworld​​  @cocklesbelli @sandlee44​​ @screenchingartisancashbailiff @donnaintx​​ @stormchasingchick32​​ @akshi8278​​ @magssteenkamp​​ @sister-winchesters99​​ @neii3n​​  @lyss-dw79​​ @im-a-shrub @sadwaywardkid​​@hopelesslydevotedtoyou1912 @slyqueenj​​ @i-love-superhero​​ @waywardsisterandpie @sunsetsandbooks​​ @mrspeacem1nusone​​ @stylesismyhubs​​ @deanwanddamons​​ @jawritter​​ @peridottea91​​ @chelsea072498 @chocolateheart​​ @vicmc624​​ @teresa-67​​ @jessie-michael​​ @doctor-hp-mcu​​ @hawkerz12​​ @mariaenchanted​​ @hobby27​​ @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden​​ @thoughts-and-funnies​​ @suramyaa @yasreadsfics​

[leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid]

Dirty Motel Sheets

Pairing: Wincest x Reader very bottom!Reader, bottom!Sam, top!Dean

Word Count: 2813

Warnings: All the smut a threesome can ask for! Dirty talk, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, unprotected sex, drinking, cursing, and of course Christmas

Summary: Maybe it’s the Southern Comfort in the eggnog but this Christmas just got a little more steamy and incestuous. 

Author’s Note: Happy Christmas my lovelies! It’s been a very long time since I’ve written, let alone posted a fic. But here we are, at the end of the dumpster fire that was 2020 and I bring you this @spnsecretsantaficexchange​ for the lovely host @negans-lucille-tblr​. She took pity on me and let me join her exchange at the last minute. Thank you for that darling. I know I missed the deadline but I hope this is worth it! Beta by the wonderfully talented @kayteonline​

Christmas as a hunter didn't mean much. There was no Christmas tree. No lights, strung garlands, or shiny round ornaments. Presents, if there were any, came from other hunters. A new machete, a jar of dead man's blood, or a new flask to keep holy water.

This Christmas however, came with a gift you'd been fantasizing about since you first heard of the Winchester's. There was always talk of the two handsome men who traveled across the country in their black beauty of an automobile. How they only truly trusted each other and that their love for each other ran pretty deep.

Maybe a little too deep, but the thought of Sam's big hands with his long fingers spreading himself open for big brother Dean sent arousal down your spine. Sure, it was wrong, but damn what you wouldn't give to see if the rumors were true.

"Thanks for helping me out, guys. I don't think I could have taken those ghouls without an extra set of hands." You reached out a hand towards the older Winchester as he stuffed the shotgun holding the trunk open to his Baby down into the trunk.

"Ain't no problem, sweetheart." Dean thrust his hand into yours, "anytime you need help, give us a call." A wink from those piercing green eyes had the breath stolen from your lungs.

"You know, it is Christmas Eve. Maybe you should come on back with us to our motel. Have some eggnog." Sam smiled and brushed his hair behind his ear as he leaned against the roof of the Impala's passenger side door.

Warmth flooded your body at the suggestion and you were quick to nod your acceptance to the invitation.

"Sure, sounds great. I'll be by in about an hour. Wanna wash the ghoul out of my cleavage and you might want to get the blood out of your hair too, Sam."

With a grimace, Sam nodded and climbed into the Impala while Dean walked around to the driver's side. "See ya in a bit, kid."

A little over an hour later you found yourself sandwiched between the Winchester's on the ratty, brown plaid motel couch. Both boys were freshly showered and pouring another round of  drinks. The eggnog was heavy on the bourbon, the good old Southern Comfort settling in your belly, and it wasn't long before a warm buzz was singing through your veins.

“So, I have a question,” you blurted as Dean emptied the last of the spiked drink into his glass.

“Sure, darling. What is it?”

“I’ve been hearing rumors, and I have to know if they’re true. It’s probably not, and if it’s total bullshit just say so and I’ll blame my curiosity on the SoCo.”

Sam smirked, “sounds ominous. What’s the question?”

Licking your lips, you sat up straight closing your eyes to gain courage, or maybe it was just hard to keep them open when you were this drunk. “Do y’all fuck? Cause last time I was in Nebraska, Jo said….”

The sound of Dean sputtering made your eyes snap open. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

Dean wiped his mouth and shook his head. “I’m fine,” he cleared his throat before muttering under his breath, “Jo should have kept her big fucking mouth shut.”

A wild grin spread across your face. “So it’s true?” You turned to look at Sam who had been quiet, his face and ears tinted with a rosy hue that you didn’t think was just from the alcohol.

“She walked into something she shouldn’t have. Look, Y/N, you can’t tell anybody. We know what people think and we don’t want it getting in the way of what we do.”

Reaching over, you laid a gentle hand on Sam’s jean covered knee. “It’s okay, Sam. I’m not going to tell anyone.” You peeked over your shoulder at Dean, biting into your bottom lip, “it is hot to know though.”

Dean smirked at your comment and leaned back against the couch, his arm going up and over the back. “You think so, huh? What makes the thought of us, a couple of brothers fucking, turn you on?”

Releasing Sam’s knee, you leaned forward, setting your almost empty glass on the wood coffee table and settled back between the brothers, your hands rubbing along the denim over your thighs. “Where do I even fucking start! You’re both gorgeous, and I’d give my left tit to fuck just one of you. But the thought of your plump lips wrapped around that bulge in Sam’s jeans, his massive hands tangled in your hair as he fucks your throat. Or Sam’s ass in the air, cheeks spread by those long fingers of his while you sink your thick cock into him over and over again. Fuck, the thoughts alone leave my pussy wet and aching.”

Dean leaned in a little close, his hand coming up to lift your chin and tilt your face towards him. “Tell us, sweetheart, do you get off thinking about us? Do you make that ache in your pussy worse, fucking yourself with your fingers while thinking about the cum that leaks out of Sam’s tight hole after I’m done with him?”

Your breathing turned rapid as Dean brushed his lips against yours. “Yes,” you exhaled.

Movement on your other side tried to draw your attention but Dean’s lips were molding against your own, his pink tongue flicking at the seam of your lips until you let him in as Sam curled a hand around your thigh.

A hot breath caressed the curve of your ear, “do you want to join us tonight, Y/N? Stay the night and be filled for Christmas?” Sam’s words were like pure sin in your ear and you moaned into Dean’s mouth as hands started moving across your body.

Deft fingers popped buttons and tugged open clothing, a large hand moving to pull the cup of your bra down to palm at your breast while another snaked into your open jeans, tapping against your clit through wet panties.

It was a blur as Dean's lips on yours became Sam's, his kiss more forceful as he dominated your mouth. Dean's own lips find purchase on your neck, sucking the sensitive skin there while his fingers flicked open your bra.

The hand in your pants rubbed against the wet fabric, your clit throbbing as Sam built you up to almost your breaking point before stopping and pulling away.

He stood from the sofa, offering you a hand which you took rising slowly until you stood at his side. From behind you, Dean grabbed the waist of your undone jeans, pulling them and your wrecked knickers down until they pooled at your feet.

"Go lay on the bed, sweetheart." Dean's words, like a command, swept over you, and when you turned towards the bed it was only then that you realised it was the only one in the room.

"Not much use for two these days," Sam murmured beside you as his large hand came down on the small of your back, giving you a gentle nudge towards the already rumpled and dirty motel sheets.

You went willingly, climbing up along the center until you could rest your head among the dingy pillows.

With you perched and watching, Dean did what came naturally as he stepped up to Sam, shooting you a wink before pulling his baby brother down into a searing kiss.

Tongues tangled and groans of need filled the air as the brothers undressed one another in a synchronized dance they had perfected over the years. Large calloused hands caressing and squeezing as fabric hit the floor and revealed taut skin.

Your eyes were glued to their movements, your hands lightly touching your skin, along your thighs and between your legs, one hand dipping lower to tease your wet opening while the other made lazy circles around your swollen clit.

The squelching sound of your fingers plunging in and out of your drenched cunt drew the brothers attention, Sam, now gloriously exposed to you, stepped away from big brother to crawl up the end of the bed towards your dripping center.

“Such a pretty pussy, it’s been awhile since I’ve tasted that sweetness. Can I taste you, Y/N?” Sam asked, a hunger in his lust blown kaleidoscope eyes.

“Fuck, yes please,” you mewled, withdrawing your hands from your core to clench at the off white sheets below you.

A sly grin rolled around Sam’s lips before he leaned forward, licking a hungry strip between your swollen lips. His tongue wrapping around your clit, pressing hard before moving down to lick at your entrance.

“How’s she taste, Sammy?”

Your heavy lids raised to look over at the eldest Wincester as he stood at the end of the bed, his thick cock in hand as he lazily stroked himself from base to tip.

“So fucking good,” Sam groaned into your cunt, his words adding vibrations to your pulsating clit making tingles of pleasure shoot down all the way to your toes.

Dean stopped touching himself and leaned over to a get something from a duffle bag that was on the floor, a bottle of lube popping free from a zippered front pouch.

“That’s good, Sammy. Keep licking that sweet, tight pussy. Get her nice and ready to take your huge dick.” Dean clicked open the lid to the lube, slicking his fingers as he stepped closer to Sam kneeling between your thighs. “It’s been a couple years since I’ve let Sammy have someone’s cunt wrapped around his beautiful cock. It’s been all mine since he came back out on the road with me.”

Dean stopped talking and your pussy clenched around Sam’s tongue as Dean held Sam’s left ass cheek open so he could smear the thick wetness on his digits over the taut opening of Sam’s asshole. Slowly, Dean sank a finger in, letting the tight rim of his baby brother’s hole stretch to let him in.

“Finger that pussy open while I get you ready, Sammy.”

With a whimper Sam obliged, inserting first one and then two fingers into your greedy cunt, rocking them in and out slowly, matching the pace of the fingers in his own ass.

Desire wracked your body, clit pulsing as your cunt squeezed around Sam’s fingers, his lips and tongue focusing all their attention on your sensitive nub.

“Make her cum, Sammy. Cum all over his fingers and tongue, Y/N. He’s fucking starving for you to flood his mouth with your juices. Come on, sweetheart. Cum for us.”

Dean’s words as he scissored his fingers inside Sam, sent a spark of white hot pleasure through your body, your toes curling and a wail of delight exhaling from your lungs as you came, Sam lapping happily as you soaked his digits.

“That a girl,” Dean praised.

You came down slowly, Sam slipping his hand free as he cleaned you with his tongue before crawling up your body, Dean withdrawing as well to coat his hard cock in lube.

“Think you’re ready for me, darling?” Sam asked, his mouth taking possession of yours without letting you answer as his thick cockhead rest against your cunt lips.

You moaned against the flavor of pussy that was sparking on your tongue as Sam licked into your mouth.

“I think she’s ready, Sammy. Fuck her, hard. Get her nice and stretched by that fat cock before I start getting antsy and start fucking you.”

Sam’s lips left yours as he sat back just enough to see between your bodies and ran his flared cockhead down between your folds, your clit jumping from overstimulation as he rubbed back and forth before dragging down to your opening.

“Dean’s so impatient sometimes,” Sam murmured as he slowly sank his tip into you. The wide head stretched you open further than his fingers had as a pleasurable burn rippled through your core.

Your eyes fluttered shut as Sam pushed his way into your body, settling to let you adjust as he rained kisses over your chest his lips, tongue and teeth greeting your neglected nipples for the first time tonight.

Sam hummed to himself as he ravaged your chest before pulling away with an audible pop to look at you. “Y/N?”  He waited until your eyes opened to continue. “I’m gonna start moving now. If that’s alright.”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Please fucking move before I fucking explode. Need you to fuck me with that huge cock, Sam.”

Dean barked a laugh, “she’s desperate for it, baby brother. Give it to her.”

Sam smiled that boyish grin of his before pulling his hips back and slamming back in. Knocking the air from your lungs as he started pounding in and out of your dripping core. His cheeks starting to redden with the exertion as sweat beaded along his skin, your arms reaching up to pull him in closer, lips searching out his as your nails dug into his thick shoulders.

Pleasure coursed through your core being stretched and stuffed full like you’d never been before flooding your brain with endorphins. Ragged breaths fell from your lips, mirrored by Sam’s own until Dean stepped forward and laid a solitary hand on the small of Sam’s back, just above the curve of his plump ass.

“Hold on for a second, Sammy,” he whispered, resting a knee on the mattress as he pulled his hand down over the curve to hold Sam open again.

Sam’s eyes were on yours as he breathed slowly above you, his bottom lip drawn up between his teeth in anticipation of what was coming next.

You smoothed your left hand down his sweaty back, until you reached his buttocks, grabbing a handful before pulling the other side open for his big brother. “Fuck him, Dean.”

“Fuck,” Dean breathed, his head lolling forward, his eyes shutting briefly at your words as he thumbed his flared tip down and slowly pushed at Sam’s rim.

The brother gave a grunt in unison, and you couldn’t help clenching around Sam’s throbbing erection still inside you.

“Please don’t do that, Y/N. I’ll fucking cum and I don’t wanna ruin this,” Sam groaned, his voice strained as Dean settled deep inside him.

“Sorry,” you giggled before having it punched out of you by Dean as he thrust forward into Sam as hard as he could, sending his baby brother deeper inside you until his cock rest against your cervix.

“Holy fuck,” you yelped in pleasurable surprise.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” Dean said just as he started pumping over and over into Sam, sending the younger Winchester into a rhythm that let him fuck you in turn just as hard.

Grunts, groans, whimpers and mewls of pleasure filled the motel space. Outside the air was freezing, but inside it was hot and smelled of sex; dripping wet cunt, sweat, and lubricant.

“I can’t, Dean. I’m gonna fucking cum.” Sam whined as Dean hammered into his prostate and your pussy fluttered around him, your own orgasm building quickly.

“Try, Sammy. Want us all to cum together.”

But he couldn’t do it. The stimulation rippling through his body, your wet pussy squeezing him tight and Dean rocking into him hard enough for the headboard to be hitting the wall was just too much. Sam ducked his head into your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin as a dull roar left his lips. His cock pulsed against your walls, filling you to the brim with his cum.

The squelch of his white mess dripped out around his cock and onto the bed as the three of you kept moving, Dean using all he had to stave off his release in favor of yours.

“Gonna cum on that dick, Y/N? Squeeze out any bit of cum my sweet baby brother’s got left?”

The rasp of Dean’s words traveled straight to your clit, as did Sam’s fingers and your world exploded into a world of bright white, blood rushing to your ears and leaving you deaf as Dean too grunted out he was gonna cum.

The three of you were a bunch of tangled and sweaty limbs, each panting and covered in each other's white, sticky juices.

“Merry fucking Christmas,” Dean announced as he pulled out and dropped onto his back beside you on the bed.

A whimper at the loss leaving Sam’s pink lips as he too untangled himself from your core and laid on the vacant side of you.

Cum dripped between your thighs and out of Sam’s asshole onto the motel’s grimy off white sheets, leaving them a little dirtier after witnessing your Christmas sins.

“Merry Christmas indeed,” Sam sighed before promptly falling asleep, exhaustion taking over as you giggled between the brother’s.

Christmas as a hunter was rough, but this one had turned out to be the best one yet.

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Files

Pairings: Sam Winchester x Reader

Trope: Enemies to lovers  @serenityhayato​ ( WRITTEN FOR @negans-lucille-tblr​‘s SPN FIC EXCHANGE )

Warnings: Death of a friend, Canonical Gore (werewolf attack), Cursing, Smut (rough Sam, light choking, hand job, oral if you squint- male receiving, unprotected sex), Probably sex at inappropriate times if I’m being honest

Word Count: 7500 (I am so sorry I didn’t realize until I went to post this that it had a 3k word limit… this was definitely my bad but I’ve spent a week writing this and really didn’t want to scrap the whole thing to fit the word limit. I didn’t realize how carried away I got in the set up)

A/N: I have never written anything for Sam before, much less smut, but I wanted to give it a shot. I’m sorry if it’s totally OOC. I was trying to go off the knowledge that he’s canonically pretty rough in bed. I also couldn’t imagine him being super talkative and vocal. I don’t know, I’m just kinda stressed about this one. Also, this was probably definitely an inappropriate time for them to get down and dirty but my brain was glitching on any other idea so I hope you don’t hate it! Happy holidays!

________________

Sam Winchester.

The name alone made your blood boil.

You’d met the man for the first time, just before your hunting career began and quite frankly, you weren’t sure if you could ever truly forgive him for what he’d done.

–

It was the first semester of your senior year of college, a proud graduate-to-be of your dream university. Life had been great since you got to college. Old toxic relationships with people back home had practically disappeared, you’d formed a group of the best people you’d ever met, and your academics had been going strong.

Life was going great until people started disappearing only to turn up days later, slaughtered and nearly drained of blood. Anxiety was running high all across the board. The university even turned all night classes to online courses to prevent the likelihood of someone being abducted at night. Your best friend had started acting weird. She constantly shook as if she’d drank a pot of coffee for breakfast and was always looking over her shoulder. “It’s okay, Beth,” You tried to reassure her, “I know everyone is on edge but we’re doing everything we can to stay safe. Just make sure to bring your wooden stake in case the vampire attacks.” You chuckled weakly, knowing your nerve-fueled joke was definitely inappropriate considering that four people had actually died from whoever was out there but humor was a good coping mechanism.

Beth didn’t appreciate the joke at all and had run out of your apartment, disappearing. When she hadn’t returned by seven that night, you got worried enough to go look for her. Grabbing every self defense weapon you had, which was pepper spray, a pocket knife, and a key chain that looked cute but was actually a form of brass knuckles with sharp extrusions on it, you left your apartment to look for Beth, surprisingly well strapped.  

You started with her favorite spots: a hipster coffee shop on Main Street, Taco Bell, that one bench in the botanical gardens that overlooked the pond, and the fourth floor of the library. She was nowhere to be seen. You were on the verge of calling the police or those FBI agents that had been questioning people on campus, asking some weird questions from what people had told you. You’d never spoken with them but they did say to come to them with information if anyone had any. You didn’t but they’d be a good start to finding Beth. Where to find them though? Figuring it would be best to just start with campus police, you walked across campus, looking over your shoulder every few seconds. The hair on your neck stood on end and it was impossible to feel safe. Campus police was located on the opposite end of campus and the busses stopped running early on weekdays so walking was your only choice.

“No, please!” You heard a man whimper from somewhere in the trees to your side. You stopped in your tracks and your heart dropped to your stomach. Should you help? Should you run? Should you stay here and call 911?

But then you heard Beth’s voice, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I can’t control it anymore!” And then screams. There were deafening screams of pain and you decided to say screw it. You ran down to try and protect your friend, even though you knew it was probably the last thing you’d ever do. This was stupid. What could you even do? Who knew what was down there attacking them?

When you saw them though, you stopped, skidding to a halt on the leaf covered hill. Beth was knelt over a man’s body, his backpack thrown to the side and ripped open. Though you were quiet, she must have heard you because her attention was whipped to you in an instant. Her face and shirt were covered in blood. It was obvious she’d been eating him or something along those lines.

You felt like a deer in headlights, utterly frozen in terror, denial, and confusion. “I can’t control myself anymore…” she admitted, a regretful sob hiccuping from her lips.

“Why?” You breathed out the question, silent tears falling. Whether they were for fear for your life or just the knowledge that someone you cared about could do something so horrible, you didn’t know.

Before she could answer, there was a loud bang and she fell dead. You flinched and covered your head, crouching instinctively from the gunshot. Your best friend slumped over dead and, despite the fact that you’d just watched her brutally murder some poor stranger, you couldn’t help but call out in shock and horror, “Beth!"

Two men came running down the hill, one of them to Beth’s body and the other to you. "She’s dead. Werewolf, just like we thought.” The man with short hair announced in a deep gruff voice.

“Are you alright?” The one who had come up to asked. He looked a little younger than the other, with longer hair too.

You were shaking, “What the hell just happened?"

"I know this is hard to understand but your friend over there… wasn’t human.” When he said it, you almost scoffed. Of course she was human. What the hell else would she be? Monsters weren’t real.

“You’re kidding me…” You said almost angrily. Then something hit you, “Wait, you’re those FBI detectives.”

The one with short hair walked up to you and the man talking to you. The taller one spoke again, “I’m Sam and this is my brother Dean. We aren’t really FBI. We hunt monsters. Monsters like your friend over there."

"She wasn’t a monster.” You said, a single tear finally falling down your cheek. Glancing over, you saw her lying dead on the ground, “Not the Beth I knew."

"Well then you didn’t know the real Beth because one look at that thing will tell you she ain’t human.” Dean told you bluntly.

Sam noticed the confusion, fear, and anger in your eyes. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen this. It was never easy to tell people they were close to the truth and he preferred to just stay out of it completely but that wasn’t an option this time. “Look, I know this is difficult to understand. But Beth was a werewolf. And yes, they are real. Most monsters are. We’ve been tracking her for weeks."

"W-was she always like this?” Your mind whirled as you struggled to comprehend, truly comprehend, what was happening.

Sam shook his head, “She was turned by a werewolf back in her hometown a few weeks ago. We tracked her from a pack we hunted down over there.” You remembered when she came back, she had a big bandage on her arm. When you asked about it, she brushed it off, saying she ate it racing her brother on longboards. It was probably the bite.

“The fact that she made it as long as she did without killing is honestly impressive. I’ve seen some turn and right away they’re slaughtering people.” Dean chimed in. You hoped their words would console you but they only served to make you angrier.

“So you’re telling me that she was attacked by a werewolf and then turned into one? She was probably terrified! She kept saying how sorry she was! You could have helped her! But you just killed her!” You screamed at them angrily.

“Your friend murdered a bunch of people. Once they turn, there’s no saving them. They’re killers.” Dean said with such conviction that it almost scared you.

Sam put a hand out to Dean, signaling for him to shut up, “There’s only one known way to stop the transformation but it has a really low success rate, is extremely painful, and needs to be administered almost right after the bite. I’m sorry.” He reached a hand out to comfort you but you dodged it, shrugging off his gesture and beginning to walk away.

“I need to go."

"Wait!” Sam called out behind you and you stopped.

“What?!” You snapped, spinning around to stare at him. It was rare that anyone dwarfed Sam Winchester but since you’d been walking up the small hill, you towered over him. The way you glared down at him made him jump.

His words faltered before he finally spoke, “You can’t tell anyone about this. If people knew monsters existed-"

"I’ll decide how I deal with the fact that my apparently werewolf best friend was just murdered by some dudes who think they’re Ghostbusters."

—

Sam saddled up to the bar next to you and promptly ordered two beers. You kept your eyes straight ahead, not sure of what you’d say to him if you made eye contact. You could feel him side eyeing you curiously. Finally, he looked over, "I’m sorry if this is strange but you look so familiar. Have we met?"

You swiveled in the chair to face him, "It’s been a while but yeah. We’ve met. Remember that werewolf at (your college)  about a year ago."

Realization dawned on his face, "Oh… I knew you looked familiar.” He didn’t sound excited like people usually did when they saw old friends because he knew you weren’t old friends. In fact, he assumed you felt quite the opposite and he understood why. “I never did catch your name."

"Y/N.” You informed shortly, taking a sip of your preferred poison.

Sam rocked back on his heels, “Well, uh, what are you doing out here?” It was Middletown, Arkansas, not exactly a happening place, so seeing you of all people here seemed almost too good to be a coincidence.

“I get the feeling the same reason you are.” You answered, eyebrows rising to infer a hunt.

It didn’t take long for Sam to figure what you meant, “Wait, you’re hunting now? Why?"

"After you guys left, I was devastated. You’d murdered my best friend,” you watched him sink into himself a little when you said that but continued seamlessly, “I was left alone with the sudden knowledge that monsters existed. I decided one day that I wanted to protect people like Beth. You know, the ones that innocently stumble into dangerous situations and have their lives ruined by a bite or scratch."

The tall Winchester brother was about to say something but Dean called from a few tables over, "Sammy!” He called out, pointing to a booth on the side wall. The bar was fairly busy for it being such a small town, with people playing pool or eating fries with their gin and tonics. Music played in the background and, though it wasn’t a song you knew off the top of your head, it sounded like every other dive bar in towns like this.

Sam held up a finger to his brother, begging pardon for just a second, before looking back over to you, “Look, I’m really sorry about everything. I really am. I know it doesn’t help but I’ve lost friends who were turned as well so I know how you feel.”

“Yeah, well, shit happens, right?” Your voice sounded anything but forgiving but it also wasn’t hostile either. It was more matter-of-fact. As much as you had hated Sam Winchester for what he had taken from you, if there was one thing you had learned over these last few months it was that shit really does happen. As hard as you tried, you really couldn’t save them all.

Sam glanced back over his shoulder to see Dean wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at him, clearly thinking you were someone Sam was trying to pick up for the night. Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to you, “If we’re both here for the vamp nest, then do you maybe want to come work with us?"

You thought for a moment. In all honesty, you had been under the impression that it was just one vampire wreaking havoc on the small town. Call it a novice mistake, because in all actuality, you really were still a relatively new hunter. One vampire you could take, a whole nest would be trickier. "Fine. But just so we don’t die."

You hopped off the barstool, glass of liquid fire in your hand, as you followed Sam back to the booth Dean was sitting at. At first, the older brother looked confused as to why his brother would bring his company for the night to meet him but didn’t say anything about it when you sat down beside Sam across the table from Dean.

"This is Y/N. She’s gonna help us work the case.” Sam announced, not leaving much room for objection.

Dean’s eyes studied you, “You look familiar. You’re a hunter?” He asked, trying to piece together why he recognized you.

You shrugged, “Am now but you know me from ‘bout a year ago when you guys killed my best friend. She was bit by a werewolf. Remember, that college girl?"

Realization dawned on his face, "Oh… yeah. Sorry about that but she was, y'know, a werewolf. So-” he shrugged insensitively, earning him a hard kick in the shin from Sam under the table. Dean looked back with that expression of 'what?’ That little kids had when they got in trouble.

“Well, anyways, she’s hunting now and is in town for the nest. I figured working together would be our best option.” Sam tried to be a peaceful moderator but it was hard when he knew how much you loathed him. It was frustrating, really, that you wouldn’t just see that Beth had become a monster. He understood that losing friends was hard but she had been killing innocent people.

“What’s the plan, then? We want to pick them off one by one so there’s less to fight at once or-” you began before Dean interrupted.

He shook his head, chewing some fries he’d shoved in his mouth while he spoke, “Nuh-uh. Gank the whole nest at once. Get 'em all in one place and torch it."

"Okay, well where’s the nest then?” You questioned.

Sam shrugged, “We don’t know yet. That’s what we gotta figure out."

"I have a file of police reports and eye witnesses on my laptop back at my hotel. I was just gonna grab a map of the town while I was out tonight to try and see if I could draw a location from the attacks.” You hadn’t planned on actually bringing work to do at the bar. You’d mostly come to see if you could overhear any drunken tales of vampires around town but it had been pretty dead as far as crazy stories so far.

Something behind you caught Dean’s attention and he leaned in close to you and Sam, “Hey, I’ll be back. Don’t wait up.” He said with a smirk and a wink.

As his brother stood, Sam threw his hand up in exasperation, “Where are you going?"

"Hopefully for a homerun.” Dean winked with a cocky smirk before walking away. You turned around to follow Dean with your gaze and immediately saw his target sitting at the bar, a beautiful African American woman with bouncing curls and a sultry smile on her berry stained lips. Honestly, you couldn’t’ say you blamed the older Winchester one bit.

Sam let out a huff of disappointment and rolled his eyes at his brother’s priorities. “Guess it’s just you and me then…” He groaned, not at the prospect of having to spend time with you but just at his brother’s laziness. Dean always managed to find an excuse out of the research part.

“Great.” You responded, unamused. Of the two brothers, Sam was the one you had an issue with- the trigger man on the night that changed your life. “Well, we should get a start on all this so we can get out of here sooner. If you didn’t get any food, you wanna head back to my room?”

The second the words left your mouth, you realized how it sounded and you became a bumbling mess, “Wait- I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant-”

Sam bit back a chuckle and raised his hand up off the table, motioning for you to stop, “It’s okay. It’s okay.” He laughed, long hair shining in the dim light as he moved to turn away from you with closed eyes while he chuckled. It really was a shame that he had done what he’d done to you. An opportunity with such a handsome man just had to be killed by his lack of compassion all those months ago.

You slid out of the booth, “Alright, well, I guess I’ll drive. Looks like Dean will be needing your car.” You smirked knowingly as you glanced over at Dean who had the woman he’d had eyes on in stitches over something he’d said.

Sam followed your lead, “Sounds good. I don’t think I want to be in the car after whatever they do anyways.”

Your black 2007 Honda Pilot was clean enough to not be totally embarrassed about but then you saw Sam’s little snort, “A Honda Pilot?”

“We can’t all have cool muscle cars or old trucks, jackass. I can go all terrain with decent gas mileage. Besides, I’d rather sleep in the back of this than your gas guzzler. She’s surprisingly spacious.” You defended your vehicle rather seriously, running your hand across the dash soothingly. The funny thing was that you’d really never been all too attached to the car until Sam insinuated insulting remarks about it.

“She?” He quipped with a raised brow, climbing into the passenger seat.

You slammed the door shut and started the engine, “Yes, she. Dahlia.”

Sam put his hands up, resigning his teasing assault on your car. The drive to the motel was short. You never really liked travelling too far from where you were staying when you didn’t have to. Hunting on your own, especially as a newbie, made you anxious. When you pulled into the parking lot, Sam looked out the window, “You’re staying here too?”

You looked over at him, “You guys are staying here?”

He nodded and patted his pockets, looking for the room key but quickly finding the gesture useless, “Room 24. You?”

“34. You must be right under me.” You said, again visibly cringing at your poor word choice, “You know what I mean.”

Sam tried his hardest not to smile, “Wasn’t gonna say anything.” He assured. You pulled into a space right in front of room 24 and parked. Sam followed you up to your room, which was relatively untouched still. You’d only arrived that morning so, aside from your bag of belongings that was thrown onto the single queen bed, the motel room was still as you had found it.

Sam closed the door behind the two of you and you grabbed your laptop from the bag. So many rooms you’d stayed in had little tables or desks but you quickly noticed that this one was lacking. As Sam awkwardly shuffled up to the bed where you sat casually, you noticed that there wasn’t really enough room for the two of you to work on the ground either.

With a huff, you scooted over, “You can sit on the bed. Just no shoes on the covers.” You had toed your own shoes off on the floor before tucking your legs underneath you. Sam sat beside you, careful to keep a respectful distance between your bodies, while you opened the lid of your laptop and began typing away.

“Alright, this is what I have so far.” You began.

Time became lost on you and Sam as midnight rolled around and you were still discussing the facts of the case. “I’m still confused as to why the hell you think Lenora’s body turning up on Seventh St and Jason’s body turning up on Hargrove Ave means the nest is on Willow Dr.” You were getting annoyed at Sam. In all honesty, you were annoyed at yourself for not seeing what he saw because as much as you hated to admit it, he was probably right. He and his brother hadn’t earned their reputations for being wrong. But, geez, why did it have to be Sam Winchester?

“Because it’s not so much Jason’s body. The old lady, Meredith, made a phone call to her nephew, saying she was at Willow Dr, just before she attacked.” Sam pointed at the map of the town with one finger while leaning his weight back on the bed. His other hand reached back to prop himself up but you quickly flinched away when you felt his rough fingers blindly land on your own.

Sam’s eyes shot wide when you felt your sudden movement, “‘M sorry.” He said, moving his hand closer to his body.

The contact made your heart race in a way that made you simultaneously crave his touch again and be angry at yourself for feeling that way.  You cursed yourself, scooting an inch or so away from Sam’s body. Clearly, your body was just blindly reacting after being touch starved for so long. You hadn’t so much as kissed anyone since before you became a hunter. It had to just be a primal reaction, nothing more.

“I’ll just take your word for it.” You grumbled, returning to the original matter at hand. You hated feeling like you were just letting him think he was right about everything but you were getting tired. “So what’s the plan? Gank ‘em all tomorrow night?”

Sam shrugged, “We’d have to talk to Dean. Most of them will probably be hiding in the nest in the morning to avoid the sun so at least they’d be in one place. But night gives us more time to plan. Who knows when he’ll be back.”

“Why don’t we just lure them all out into the sun and watch them burn?” You suggested, thinking it was a brilliant idea. You actually had yet to deal with vamps. This would be your first case hunting them and you were actually a little excited to learn something new.

The Winchester shook his head, “The sun doesn’t kill them. Think less Interview With a Vampire and more… bad sunburn.” He explained, “Have you never hunted one before?”

Again, you got defensive, “I’m still new at this. I mostly stick to werewolves and ghosts.” Admitting to yourself you needed to learn more was one thing. Admitting it to Sam was another.

He looked over at the gun on your nightstand, “Is that what you were gonna use?” He questioned, brows furrowed.

“No, I’m not dumb. I have some wooden stakes in the car.”

It took everything in Sam’s power to not laugh at you. At you felt like the wrong way to put it. He wasn’t laughing at you. He just found your determination to be a good hunter cute in an endearing way, even if you got your information from cheesy TV shows.

“What?” You asked, almost angrily, seeing the look of amusement on his face.

Sam shook his head, “Decapitation is the main way to kill vampires. Unless you have special bullets or weapons, cutting off the heads is the easiest way to go.”

Your jaw clenched and you turned away from him, upset that he of all people had to explain something that was apparently Hunter 101. You didn’t mind learning. Not knowing things typically was just an opportunity to pick something new up but this incident just felt like nails on a chalkboard.

“You know what? It looks like you and Dean have things handled here. I’m gonna go. Divide and conquer. I’ll just go find somewhere with monsters that I know about so you don’t have to babysit me.” You stood up aggressively, voice surprisingly calm and just almost convincing enough to make him think you weren’t being petty, which of course you were. You didn’t mean to be acting childish. It was just that running into Sam and Dean had been enough to handle. Having what was still left for you to learn shoved in your face was just the cherry on top.

Sam stood up after you, exasperated, “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re still new to this and everyone has to start somewhere. Hell, Dean and I are still learning new stuff all the time.”

“It’s not that. This was just a bad idea. I thought I could handle working with you but I can’t.” You shook your head, turning around just to reach around Sam’s body and grab the jacket that you’d discarded before shrugging it back over your shoulders. You started shoving the few things you’d unpacked- a gun, your laptop, and some files- back into your blue duffel bag.

Sam had always considered himself fairly level-headed and capable of dealing with difficult people but something in him snapped when he saw you packing up to leave over something so stupid, “Fine, go ahead and leave. We’ll deal with the nest without you. But you know what? Nobody asked you to get involved in hunting. You can’t just go run off every time someone dies.”

You scoffed, “I got into hunting to prevent people from dying. I got into hunting to try and save them from being killed by people like you!”

“You’re acting like we just kill everyone we come across. We kill monsters, Y/N. We save people by killing them. We prevent more people from getting turned into monsters by killing them. And you know what? Beth became a monster.” Sam’s voice raised to almost a yell as he gestured widely and aggressively.

“Beth was scared and you murdered her!” You shouted angrily, tears welling in your eyes.

“Beth was killing people!” Sam yelled at you before taking a moment to breathe, continuing more calmly, “Can’t you see that? Most of these monsters we hunt were just poor bastards in the wrong place at the wrong time. There’s not a lot we can do for people like that. But we can keep them from hurting others. If we had known there was a werewolf back in Beth’s hometown, we could have killed them before they could turn her and she would still be here. Would you be angry if we’d have killed the werewolf that turned her? Would you still be calling me a murderer?”

You chewed your tongue in your mouth hard, trying to use the physical pain to distract you from the urge to cry out of frustration. Why did he have to make sense? Why did he have to confirm every rational thought you’d ever had concerning the situation? You wanted to hate Sam Winchester for what he’d done but you knew deep down that it was never that simple. You knew he had a point but you didn’t want to admit it.

Sam saw the way your jaw clenched angrily, the way your throat moved as you swallowed hard, and the way your eyes glistened with unshed tears. He took a step closer to you and reached a gentle hand out towards your arm, “I am sorry that you lost your best friend.”

For some reason, the gentle sincerity of his voice is what broke you. Tears fell down your face in hot streams as you cried. They weren’t tears for Beth’s death. Those had long been drained from you, many nights spent mourning what you’d lost. These tears were for the final snap of your animosity for the Winchester. You had spent so long hating him. You wanted to hate him, needed to hate him, but how the hell were you supposed to do that when he looked you in the eye and truly meant it when he said he was sorry.

There was a twinge of pain in his own green eyes that made you realize that he truly had experienced the same sort of heartache that you did and that he was sincerely apologetic for being the cause of it. But it was also clear that, while he was sorry for hurting you, he was not sorry for what he had done. Part of the cause for your tears was that you were angry with yourself for not being able to hate him, despite knowing that he didn’t regret killing Beth. You were crying because he was right. She had become a monster and, in his shoes, you probably would have done the same thing. You would have shot your best friend.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, voice shaky as you did.

Sam used his light grip on your arm to pull you in slowly for a hug, his large arms enveloping you in a surprisingly comforting embrace. You buried your face into his flannel, tears staining the fabric. One of his large hands gently cradled the base of your head while his other rubbed up and down your shaking back.

He didn’t know what to say anymore. Your response had honestly surprised him. The girl that he was used to receiving nothing but animosity from was now shaking in his arms and apologizing. “It’s okay,” was all Sam could think to mutter out.

He held you like that for a while, though you weren’t sure exactly how long it was. It could have been thirty seconds or thirty minutes and you would be none the wiser but all you knew was that you didn’t want Sam to let you go and, for once, you didn’t hate yourself for it. The tears had dried, leaving only slightly stiff feeling skin in their place. Your breath had long since stopped leaving your lungs in wracked hiccups. Your arms had moved from resting on his broad chest to being loosely wrapped around his waist at some point.

You pulled back first, lifting your head from his chest but keeping your hands on his body still. Sam lifted his cheek off your head, where it had been residing in a surprisingly soft show of affection, and he gazed down at you. You were amazed by how completely you had let your rage blind you. Before tonight, Sam was nothing more than scum to you but now, looking into his eyes after forgiving him, you realized that he was easily one of the most beautiful men you’d ever laid your eyes on.

Even with the tears now gone, Sam still saw the dim light of the cheap motel lamp sparkled against the color of your irises and damn if it wasn’t beautiful. He slid his hand up from your shoulder to gently brush away a few thin strands of hair that had stuck to your cheek while it was pressed against his chest- a feeling he found himself missing. His breath caught in his throat when you reached up to cover his hand with your smaller one, pressing it gently to stay on your cheek.

Your eyes slid closed and you gently nuzzled against his hand before opening your eyes again, reaching around his neck, and oh so slowly pulling him down while you perched on your tiptoes. There was more than enough time for Sam to pull away but he didn’t. In fact, much to your surprise, he closed the gap between you faster. His lips pressed to yours, rougher than you anticipated, but enjoyably nonetheless.

The breath was knocked out of your lungs and you struggled to breathe against his lips but refused to pull away. You bit his lip gently while you kissed, slipping your tongue against his when he gave in to what you were craving.

Sam reached down under your ass and lifted you without you even needing to jump. A squeal of surprise was swallowed by his lips as he walked you both to the bed. Once his legs bumped the old mattress, he sat down, lowering you to land on his lap. Your knees fell to either side of his hips where you gave an experimental rotation of your hips against his clothed erection. He let out a strangle exhalation at the friction, his fingers digging into your ass and pulling you harder onto him. The fabric of his rough jeans rubbed delicious against your clothed core, a wetness beginning to form in your panties.

Slowly, you pressed your weight forward and Sam allowed you to push him onto his back. You laid on top of him, lips moving from his lips down his neck but he didn’t let you get far. Sam placed a supportive hand on the small of your back and managed to flip you both over so he was on top and before you knew it, he was devouring you. Lips kissed hot trails across your face and down your neck, across the tops of your breasts that were ever so slightly revealed by your v-neck t-shirt.

Your fingers tangled in his long hair and he let out a breathy groan when you tugged on the brunette locks, pulling him closer to you. Sam crawled down your body, his hands sliding up underneath your shirt to run across your burning skin beneath. He felt like heaven and hell all in one, burning with fiery lust and yet so sweet and comforting despite the fervor with which he moved.

You pushed yourself up, pushing Sam to sit back on his knees while you did, all without breaking the kiss, to shrug off your jacket. Your shirt was next, falling onto the floor with your jacket before Sam pushed you backwards again, your back hitting the mattress. His large hand started low your belly, running straight up between the valley of your breasts and then raking downwards, pulling the cups of your bra down and grazing your nipples deliciously with his calloused fingers.

It had been so long since you’d been touched like this that even the small act had your back arching into his body. “Sam…” You breathed out, eyes sliding closed at the sensation. Every flick against your sensitive buds sent a shock straight to your core that had you hooking your leg around his hip, pulling him closer into you. Your hands ran up and down his large biceps before moving to pull the sleeves of his flannel down his arms. He only pulled away from you long enough to throw the restricting clothing on the ground, his shirt joining short after.

Your mouth started physically salivating at the sight of the man before you, sculpted by the gods. Defined pectorals and rippling abs covered his torso, adorned with a symbol that looked like a pentagram inside of a sun- a symbol you were unfamiliar with. Sam didn’t give you much time to marvel though because he was back to kissing a line down your body, the light stubble of his beard tickling the sensitive skin of your neck and chest. He stopped to revel in your breasts, wiggling his hands under your body to expertly unclasp your bra and shimmy it off you. The second they were revealed to him, his tongue was dragging across the supple sick and his teeth were lightly nibbling at the sensitive buds.

“Oh my gosh-” You let out in a breathy giggle. Sam switched breasts, giving the other equal attention. Your fingernails raked lightly over his shoulders and across his chest and you felt Sam shiver at the touch. His lips trailed lower and lower until they found the waistline of your jeans. With a quick flick of his fingers, the button was popped and the denim material was dragged down your legs, taking your socks with them as they were pulled over your ankles. He kissed his way back up your legs, from ankle until he slowly inched closer and closer to where you wanted him most.

His scruff scraped along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and you bit your lip at the sensation, unsure if you were trying to hold back a giggle from the ticklish feeling or a moan from the shocks it sent to your core. Sam chuckled to himself when he saw the wet patch of cloth over your clothed heat. He’d barely touched you and you were already dripping for him.

He had a wicked idea though. He got closer and closer to your sex, the smell intoxicating, and gripped your thighs tightly, possibly leaving bruises. Just when his lips were about to land on your core, he moved to the left, kissing your hip bones instead and back up your belly.

Annoyed by the teasing, you sat up, pulling Sam up gently by the hair to be face to face with you. Your ass was a few inches from the edge of the bed, toes just touching the ground, when you pushed Sam back just enough to be able to reach his pants. You hooked your fingers into the belt loops on either side of his pelvis and pulled him close to you. His forehead pressed flush against yours, “Are you gonna keep being a tease or are you gonna fuck me already, Winchester?”

Sam didn’t need to be told twice. He made quick work of his remaining clothing and hovered over you like a predator about to move in for the kill. “You want me to just fuck you already?” He mimicked, voice low and testing. His green eyes bore into your own orbs with a challenge that you refused to back down from.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” You challenged, standing up and sliding your underwear down your legs, all while keeping unyielding eye contact with Sam. Once they left your form with a small flick of your toes, a dark smirk krept up on his face.

“Turn around.” He demanded and, while you were inwardly more than happy to comply, you didn’t want him to think he had you quite that easy.

You rolled your eyes as you did, an sinful smirk playing on your lips, “Yes, sir.” You chimed sarcastically.

Before you knew it, you were bent over at the waist, face and chest pressed into the mattress by Sam’s nearly crushing body. His hand snaked around your front, picking up some of your slickness on his fingers before circling your clit while he growled in your ear, “Don’t know what the attitude’s about. You’re the one who asked to get fucked.”

Your knees quivered at his filthy words while his fingers worked your clit slowly and painfully. His rock hard erection rubbed along your ass, teasing your entrance every now and again as he rocked his hips against your body. He stood up and removed his hand from your clit. Your hips moved back, trying desperately to chase his fleeting touch. Sam groaned when your body slid over his cock, skin burning against his own. After a few experimental tugs at his own member, he positioned himself at your entrance, giving you a few moments to back out if that was what you’d wanted. Backing out was so far from what you wanted though. You wanted - nay, needed - him inside of you and you needed him now. You were convinced you’d combust if he made you wait any longer.

His hands landed on your hips to help guide a slow thrust forward. His length gradually entered you, the searing stretch to accommodate him making your muscles contract around him. Sam hisses out a sound of pleasure, “You’re so tight.”

His first few thrusts were slow, each time managing to grind impossibly deeper into you. “Fuck, Sam.” Your fingers wound tightly in the sheets with each thrust of his hips and your eyes screwed shut as your breaths came out almost as hisses through grit teeth.

Sam used his leverage on your hips to move your body in time with his thrusts. Each motion sent your body into the mattress, the bed shaking as he pounded into you. You let out little squeaks of pleasure every now and again but Sam wanted to hear more out of the girl who’d had nothing to say to him but spiteful things for so long.

A large hand came to clasp around your throat, not tight enough to choke you but enough to guide you up. You pressed your body up to your feet sloppily on your hands but standing proved to be a difficult task with Sam still moving relentlessly into you. Your thighs were shaking, barely able to support your weight, as this new angle allowed for Sam to hit that spot inside you that made your toes curl. His hand stayed around your throat, tightening along the sides of your neck when he lost himself in the way you felt around him- warm and soft. You were grateful that he was letting your head lull back against his shoulder otherwise you weren’t sure if you’d be able to stay upright.

Sam’s free hand first sloppily groped around the front of your chest until it found one of your breasts, kneading it roughly. The rough skin of his fingers grazed your nipples yet again, only adding to the pleasure you felt below. The knot was tightening and it was tightening fast.

“Please-” You managed to gasp out, not because of the choking (his grip wasn’t that tight) but because the electricity in the room seemed to have stolen your voice. Sam’s hand moved from your nipples down to your clit where he rubbed fast tight circles. “Oh my gosh, yes!” You whined, reaching up overhead to tangle your fingers in his hair. You forced his mouth down to meet yours and the pressure in your core snapped. Your moans and cries of pleasure were swallowed by Sam’s lips and he could have swallowed a thousand more.

He worked you through your orgasm until your body went limp in his arms. Slowly, he came to a stop before pulling out and quickly working himself in his hands. After catching your breath though, you turned back to Sam, placed your hands on his shoulders, and used them to spin the two of you around and push him back onto the bed. His long legs hung over the edge and you settled yourself between his knees, gently grasping his member, still slick with your wetness, and worked him with your hand.

Sam lied back on the white duvet, head thrown back in bliss at your touch. Your hand felt so much better than his own as it worked up and down his shaft before coming up to circle around the tip. He was rock hard and ready to burst at any given moment. When you leaned forward to like a long stripe along the underside of his cock, he was done for. A few more pumps and Sam fell apart in your hand, painting your hand and his stomach with his seed. “Shit!” The muscles of his abs contracted mesmerizingly as the waves of his high rolled over him.

Your hand slowed as his climax came to an end, his member softening in your hand. You wiped the mess he’d made on your hand on your breasts and stomach, knowing it would be easier to keep those parts of you off the covers than your hand. With a heavy sigh of crashing relief, your body fell onto the mattress beside Sam and you both stared at the ceiling in a fucked out post-coital haze.

“So, does this mean you don’t hate me anymore?” Sam asked after a few moments, surprising you with the genuine tone behind the semi-joking question.

You stared up at the chipping popcorn ceiling, “I didn’t for like two seconds but now I do again just because those were the first words out of your mouth.” Your voice was steady, unwavering, and Sam cringed inwardly, avoiding eye contact entirely. That is, until you sighed and continued, “But, I guess, if you wanted to take me out for a drink sometime there’s a slim chance I wouldn’t object.” This time, there was a teasing smile on your face when you turned your head to look at Sam.

[writethelifeyouwant]

Sin

Created for: @ilysm-mybabybrother

Pairing: Dean x Reader / Sam x Reader / Dean x Sam 

Warnings: Dub-Con 

Additional tags: Cuckolding, Dirty talk, Praise kink 

Word count: 2,076

A/N: Written for my @spnsecretsantaficexchange set up by my bae @negans-lucille-tblr as a present for the lovely @ilysm-mybabybrother (who I’ve been a long time stalker of, nbd). They requested something smutty with dirty talk / praise kink / cuckolding / and the brothers touching each other - potentially with Demon!Dean or BoyKing!Sam - I’ve gone with Soulless!Sam - I hope that’s still okay! I think I managed to work all the other kinks in there... Anyways I had a lot of fun writing it so I hope you enjoy it! Merry Christmas 🎄

Dividers: @firefly-in-darkness 

Dean hadn’t let himself imagine this moment. 

When Sam jumped into the pit with Lucifer riding shotgun, Dean made himself accept that. Bobby came back, Cas came back, but when Sam didn’t appear with them, he had to let him go. He promised he would let him go. 

He kept his promise. He found a job in a garage in Texas. He wooed a girl who brought in a car that sounded like his old neighbours in Hell were trapped under the hood. He picked her up in the Impala and dropped her off on her doorstep with a kiss and a promise to call; and he actually called her. They weren’t living together, but they spent most of their time at each other’s apartments. Dean taught her a bunch of ways to doctor up boxed mac’n’cheese, and Y/N taught Dean how to mix cocktails with cheap whiskey that actually made it taste nice. The earth was still turning. 

But now it had stopped, because Sam was standing in front of him, dripping in holy water and cut across his arm - not a monster or a demon, it was Sam. And Dean didn’t care that he got wet too when he pulled his little brother in for a bone crushing hug, because nothing could be wrong again now that Sam was back in his arms. At least, that’s what he’d thought two hours ago. Because now, as his wrists were getting rope burn and his ears were ringing with Y/N’s soft whimpers he knew something was wrong. Something was very wrong with Sam. 

“Wow, Dean,” Sam had exclaimed when he introduced him to Y/N, who had been cooking dinner when he showed up at Dean’s door. “He’s lucky he met you first, darling.” Sam’s eyes dragged up and down her body hungrily, and Dean was taken aback because that was not like Sam at all. Usually Dean was the horndog between the two of them but, I guess you would get pretty horny being dead for a year, Dean reasoned to himself. He remembered that feeling, after he got back from Hell, of wanting something to really make him feel alive again. It would just be nice if Sam didn’t use his girlfriend to feel that. 

But as the evening progressed, and dinner turned into drinks, and beer turned into liquor, Dean felt more and more like he might not get a say in the matter. Sam was all over Y/N, flirting harder than Dean had ever seen him flirt, and way better than Dean remembered him being at it, come to think of it. And Y/N wasn’t turning him away. She was laughing and smiling and getting him another drink, and being the perfect goddamn housewife all while Dean was sitting there watching the two of them. 

And then when Y/N brought him a refill on his whiskey she shot Dean a look that he’d only seen once before, when she’d asked if they could take home the cute waitress so Dean could watch. Back then, Dean had thought he had the best damn girlfriend ever. He essentially got a front row seat to one of his favourite pornos. But the thought of her sleeping with Sammy... Dean wasn’t wild about that one. Except he didn’t know how to say that to Y/N and Sam, so he just kept drinking and hoped it didn’t come up. He wasn’t so lucky. 

He tried to step in, when Sam put his hand on Y/N’s thigh and dug his fingers in - Dean gritted his teeth and choked out a cautious “Sam…” but the warning died in his throat when he looked into his little brother’s eyes and saw empty determination and cold hunger. He didn’t see his brother. “Y/N get away from him!” Dean shouted and reached for the knife stashed in the end table next to him, but Sam was faster, drawing his own and shoving it threateningly under Dean’s chin. 

“Whatcha doing there, Dean?” 

“What are you?” 

“I’m your brother,” Sam teased, lips curled in an ugly imitation of Sam’s warm smile. 

“What happened to you down there?” Dean demanded, because if this was Sam, something changed - something was different. 

“Oh so much, big brother,” Sam laughed but there was no emotion behind it. “Learned a few things too. How ‘bout I show ya?” And now Dean’s hands were tied above his head with his own goddamn rope on his own goddamn bed, while Y/N was laid out between his legs with her head on his stomach as his own goddamn brother went down on her. 

“Mm, you’ve got such a good little pussy, sweetheart,” Sam sighed, sucking on her clit and pulling a whine from her lips. Y/N’s breath ghosted over Dean’s naked cock, making it twitch despite his best efforts to be disgusted at what was happening right now. “Hope Dean’s been giving this cunt the attention it deserves.” 

Y/N whimpered a little, but didn’t answer, prompting Sam to slap between her legs. “My brother been treating you good? Giving you enough cock to keep a pretty thing like you happy?” 

“Yes,” Y/N gasped, clenching around the fingers Sam had just pushed inside her. “Yeah he’s good - mmh - so good to me,” she moaned. 

“Yeah?” Sam sneered, twisting his fingers to push against Y/N’s clit and make her writhe. “What’s he best at? I’ve always wondered when I heard the moans from the next room.” 

“Sam…” Dean complained, finding his impertinent big brother tone despite the situation he was in at the moment. 

“His mouth,” Y/N sighed, happy to answer despite Dean’s protest. “I love his mouth, it’s so soft… and when he kisses you, it can take your breath away.” 

“How romantic,” Sam smirked. “Always knew Dean was a bit of a softie deep down.” 

“Fuck you,” Dean growled, pulling uselessly against his restraints again.

“Ladies first,” Sam laughed, and pulled his fingers from Y/N and sucked them clean, eyes boring into Dean’s while he swallowed his girlfriend’s slick. “Turn around baby, get on Dean’s cock,” Sam directed, landing a slap on Y/N’s ass when she turned and crawled over Dean. She shivered when she pressed his cock against her entrance, pulsing down slowly, working him inside her bit by bit. 

“Oh look at you,” Sam cooed, brushing her hair off her shoulder so he could bite into her neck, pulling a moan from her chest. “Such a good girl teasing him like that, I didn’t even have to tell you to.” Y/N smiled to herself as she finally got Dean fully seated inside her, revelling in the stretch and fullness of it all. “How did Dean manage to find such a good little slut, huh?” 

Y/N giggled lightly but didn’t say anything, just rolled her hips, drawing a gasp from Dean, whose eyes were squeezed tight in pleasure. Y/N felt so good around his dick. And he hated to admit it but he was in fucking heaven right now. This was so, so wrong but it was so hot, every other thought was being pushed out of his mind for the moment. He just wanted Y/N to keep moving, and he wanted Sam to keep talking. 

Sam wrapped his fingers around the back of Y/N’s neck and shoved her forward, so she was lying chest to chest with Dean. “Give her a kiss Dean. It’s her favourite after all,” he teased. Dean wanted to find some retort to throw back at his brother, but Y/N’s lips were swallowing his before he got a chance, and he decided this was a better use of his breath anyways. 

They kissed and licked and moaned as they ground together, Sam watching on and stroking himself lazily. He reached one hand forward and drew lazy patterns on Y/N’s ass which was bouncing so nicely on Dean’s cock. Sam bet it felt amazing to be inside her. “Mm, you’re fucking him so good, Y/N,” Sam praised, petting his hand down her back. “Look so hot with a cock inside you.” He crawled forward and draped himself over the couple, bumping his hips into Y/N’s and grinding against her ass. She moaned happily and fucked back harder, trying to rub against Sam as much as she could without pulling off of Dean. 

A choked whine slipped through her lips when Sam’s cock caught between her cheeks and nudged at her other entrance. “Oh,” Sam grinned at her reaction and repeated his motion, pushing against the taut, puckered skin. “You have more in common with Dean than I thought.” 

“What?” Y/N panted, confused and distracted by all the sensations she was swimming under. 

“What, Dean never told you? Never asked you to fuck him up the ass?” 

Dean’s eyes shot open, horrified. How did Sam know? 

“You didn’t really think I didn’t know, did you, Dean?” Sam smirked, still rubbing himself against Y/N’s ass, but letting his fingers trail down further, skating over Dean’s inner thigh, making him jump. “You told me about Rhonda Hurley and the panties when I was sixteen, but I knew that wasn’t the whole story. I found the strap on after you picked me up from Stanford. How many girls you given it up to, big brother?” 

“Fuck you,” Dean ground out, mortified. 

“You know what, I just might,” Sam drew small circles with his fingertip the whole way across Dean’s skin until he reached his target. “What do you think, Y/N, should I give your boyfriend what he wants?” 

“God yes,” she gasped, riding Dean hard, head buried in his shoulder. 

Sam spit on his fingers and pressed them back against Dean’s ass, teasing his hole until it was nice and slick and he could slide a finger in without too much resistance. Dean was tense, trying to fight what Sam was doing, trying to fight wanting what Sam was doing, but he didn’t think he was strong enough. Sam’s finger twisting inside him actually felt amazing. It had been over a year since he’d let anyone fuck him and god, he had forgotten how fantastic it was, feeling this full, this whole. 

Sam felt Dean accept what was happening, felt him relax around him, and took that as his cue to add more spit and another finger. Then another. He pulled them out when he felt Dean was ready and tugged Y/N back so she was sitting up against his chest. “You ready to cum, darling?” He snarled in her ear. 

“Mmhmm,” Y/N whined, bouncing faster over Dean, but Sam hoisted her off his brother and sat her down between his legs where they’d started. 

“You’re gonna get my cock nice and wet, aren’t you baby? Gonna be good and cum all over my cock?” 

“Yes, fuck yes, please,” Y/N begged. Sam slammed in place inside her and didn’t hesitate before fucking her at a furious pace, rubbing his thumb over her clit and pulling scream after scream out of the girl writhing beneath him. He felt, with satisfaction, a surge of heat between her legs, and knew her cum was trickling out from between her thighs. 

“Good girl,” Sam huffed, cold smile firmly in place. He pulled out and looked down to see veins of white dripping over his skin. “Got me nice and wet for your boyfriend, good job, sweetheart.” Y/N rolled out of the way, sated and dazed, and anxiously watched Sam climb over Dean and rub his cock between his legs. 

Dean groaned, eyes pressed tight, trying to pretend he wasn’t about to let his little brother fuck him. Trying to pretend he didn’t desperately want his little brother to fuck him. But when Sam pushed in he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t love it. It felt so different to having a dildo in his ass, and it was so much better. It was warm, flesh and blood; his flesh and blood. When Dean clenched around him, Sam moaned and thrust harder into his brother. Dean loved how responsive he was, and did it again, earning himself another thrust. 

“Think you’re being cute?” Sam panted and glared down at Dean, who smirked up at his little brother with his last vestige of self-respect. 

“I think I’m adorable.” 

“And I think you’re gonna regret that.” 

[herstarburststories]

Merry... Birthday?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: You love christmas, but Dean doesn’t. Yet, he might make an exception for your birthday this year.

A/N: This one goes for @negans-lucille-tblr​ ‘s secret fic exchange. My secret Santa was @katymacsupernatural​. Hey, honey! I hope you enjoy this and happy birthday! You deserve double presents, so here’s mine. All mistakes are mine!

Divider by @talesmaniac89 !

You loved Christmas.

It was probably a nostalgic longing for your long gone urban life. Just in the same way you’d still catch yourself looking through the news for election results or feel your stomach twist if you didn’t eat homemade food at least twice a week. You were dead to the government and certainly spent more on the road than in a home. Besides, you had met up with God enough times to know him. All the encounters and screaming and unapologetic abandonment should make you want to throw any baby Jesus against a wall or even climb on a Christmas tree just to shout about all the hoaxes so perfectly molded in patterns through our brains like braids.

Yet, something about you loved christmas. 

The pretty lights always shining, it didn’t matter where you go. For once, all the city-- everything would be entirely made of light. Their incandescent glow always companishing each person, either it was in an once treacherous alley or only to make the kids' grin bigger as they watched them among the busy streets with wide eyed gazes. The confusion in the kitchen that often ended up with huffs bursting into chuckles between the smell of meals that were too much and would make a room for leftovers for the rest of the week. How everything seemed to be made only of happiness, and nothing could ever cut through those water; all the knives were suddenly swords for kids to play and no white gun. In Christmas, a house became a kingdom for every heart. Everything was good and felt through the skin to the bone, like a single glimpse, a hidden day of what would be paradise.

That was how you were raised, at least. The Winchesters didn’t share the same mindset, no. While you grew up with decorating the tree, they were hiding bodies in the dim light. Leftovers were all through their whole year, and Christmas was described as good or not with one single criteria: snow streets. They had to take one? Annoying date. They didn’t and there was eggnog? Bearable Jesus’s birthday.

Yet, you attempted to make the bunker the more festive possible: buying a bunch of christmas lights, cookies’ ingredients and even a small nativity scene. Your attempts to enjoy the date’s niciities ended up with Sam breaking his arm after crashing on the ground because you insisted on him putting the lights in a place higher than his age, not to mention the burned cookies that looked more like tiny monsters than gingerbread men.

Your parents used to make this look so much easier.

Although the youngest Winchester understood a little more about the concept of holidays, a believer in the good until the very end, his brother didn’t share the idea. You couldn’t say you were surprised. Dean just had two barely normal christmas in his life: one when he was dying and one with Lisa and Ben. Both situations made it to his heart only to shatter from the inside.

‘’Baby Jesus?’’ Dean snorted, shaking his head at the sight of you adjusting the weird little dolls in the nativity. He placed another ruined cook in his mouth, speaking with his mouth full next: ‘’We have the son of Lucifer, guess that counts.’’

‘’Don’t say that once Jack gets home.’’ You rolled your eyes, turning to face the oldest Winchester with your hands on your hips. How could he eat that? You couldn’t even make it a bite and Sam only had half of those. ‘’And stop eating those. They are burned.’’

‘’I’ve had worse.’’ He remarked, adding another cookie to his mouth. You grimaced, wondering for a brief moment how your boyfriend could be simultaneously the guy who saved the world and a man with the taste of a five years old.

‘’Yeah. But I’m the one who has to hear you whining about your bellyache later.’’

‘’I don’t whine--’’ You arched your eyebrows at his statement, making Dean huff in agreement. ‘’That was once and because of Sam’s weird ass vegan bacon.’’

‘’You acted like you were dying.’’

‘’My tongue was!’’

‘’So get this.’’ Sam’s voice interrupted your childish argument, catching the attention of both hunters like a shiny object did to a cat. ‘’Apparently we got an earlier christmas gift.’’

‘’What is it?’’ You asked, approaching the table.

‘’Three teenagers disappeared in the forest, all personal objects left behind.’’ Sam explained as Dean scratched out his neck to glance at his brother’s computer screen. Nothing like a case in Colorado. ‘’The authorities think it’s a serial killer. But one of the girls, Kayla Wodson, said she saw a weird, skinny giant take her friends.’’

‘’Ho ho ho and three bodies.’’ Dean clapped his hands together with a wry curve of lips. ‘’Alright. Let’s hit the road-- Wait, wait, wait. Where do you think you are going?’’

You were standing beside Dean while Sam raised to his feet, ready to pack his bags. Dean, nonetheless, was quicker than his brother, soon putting himself in front of Sammy; hands protectively standing in front of the youngest’s chest to keep him from moving any further.

He shook his head with a scoff. ‘’Dude, come on.’’

‘’Not happening, Sammy. You got a broken arm.’’ You mumbled a sorry along Dean’s big brother speech, to which Sam replied with a comprehensive smile. ‘’Y/N and I take care of it.’’

‘’He’s right. Must be the first time in his life, but he is.’’ Dean turned his head, furrowing his eyebrows at you ‘’Don’t worry. It’s just a wendigo anyway. ‘’

‘’Okay. Just…’’

‘’Don’t forget the fireblazer. As if your brother would miss an opportunity to use it.’’ You scrunched up your noise, causing a chortle out of Sam while Dean commented something about grabbing the specific instrument and walked away. ‘’Maybe you could call Eileen. Ask her to help you to back some christmas cookies.’’

Sammy shook his head at your wiggling brows. ‘’That doesn’t sound as sexy for me as it does for you.’’

Dean Winchester was good with numbers.

Not the urban numerical sense of the deal, of course. He almost didn’t make it in sixth grade with useless geometry and all that, and he still used his fingers to count when he had to deal with an equation. No, his good and quick way with numbers was easier, intrinsic to his head.

How many years since mom died? Seventeen. How many people did he have to save? All of them. How many years had he left? Less than he once owned.

Hunter math was simpler, and was all he really needed since he was four years old, running from the fire with his baby brother in his arms-- which brought him to the second section of his particular geometry: birthdays and death anniversaries. Dean never, ever forgot any special date. Those were his own holidays, the only worth celebrating and remembering. His wishes, grief, and cherishment were reserved for the people he loved, not some celestial assholes who saw his life like a book.

Therefore, his mind went on a golden rush for your day as soon as the Wendigo hunt took more than you both expected. You wouldn't be able to make it home before your birthday, which would be ending shortly, a matter of two or three hours. His inner engineers were useful tonight, in his vision, useful enough to make those sappy movies jealous. While you were washing some guts and leaves away, Dean went to the nearest convenience store. His long arms nesting a bunch of stuff he never dared to touch in years. The cashier with drowsy eyes and escarlet Santa hat seemed bored with his shopping, probably because she saw an uncountable amount of people buying the same things over and over. He couldn’t blame her for the suburban exhaustion. If anything, it was a small comfort for his war orbs to see and be a part of a scene so mundane.

He hustled back to the dive motel room, singing in relief to himself once he stepped in and heard you singing Christmas Tree Farm while the water rushed in. He grimaced at himself for recognizing that Taylor Swift song. How couldn’t he? That woman was 80% of all you heard everyday. Man, he was whipped.

Tilting his head back in reality, he started organizing in clumsy manners of putting everything in place for you. His bruised hands touching so carefully the fragile ornaments to make the motel room with grubby walls and weird black stan on the floor that only seemed to grow a little more like you.

You, the woman who put up with him, who laughed at his stupid jokes, and who watched Scooby Doo, all snuggled up to him every friday. You, the woman who switched from AC/DC to Taylor Swift and then Eric Clapton. You, the one who understood his job and helped him to wash off some of the blood on his hand and never got scared of how red the water could get. You, the girl who rolled her eyes at his first attempt of flirting and now stole his french fries and kissed his lips as if he was worth being delicate with. You, his breathing, his true holiday, his only act of faith besides Sammy.

Dean pressed his teeth against his bottom lip, looking up and down his little manual work. Part of him said it was ridiculous, he surely would make a lot of fun of Sam if he did that to a chick. Yet, mostly he was proud. He wanted you to like it. It wasn’t even near to what you deserved, but it was a piece of it. It was what the Winchester could give you, and that would be hopefully, enough.

While Dean was caught in the crossroad of judging and admiring his surprise, you left the shower with a towel wrapped around your head and lips mumbling Cocaine. Your feet glued to the ground once you witnessed what was in front of you: the room was decorated with christmas lights, a tiny plastic tree on the table, right beside a pie with candle on the top and two cup of what smelled like hot cocoa.

‘’Dean…’’ Your tender tone brought him back from his traineck thoughts as he turned around to glance at you. You chortled in astonishment as he raised his eyes and said surprise! ‘’What’s this?’’

‘’Well, it’s your birthday.’’ He shrugged, scooting closer to you with a smirk. Dean smoothly wrapped his arms around your waist, yours instantly resting around his neck. ‘’In my defense, they just had christmas stuff. Blame your parents for having you close to Jesus’ special day.’’

‘’Christmas stuff include pie and not cake?’’ Your brows knitted together, a heartwarming smile on your lips as you watched his expression marked by multicolored little lights. He smelled like something was a blaze, and you knew that was for standing too close to the candle and not for burning a body this time. Small changes.

He scoffed humorously. ‘’You like pie better anyway.’’ He nodded at the carnival-like situation around you two. Dean Winchester wasn’t the kind of man who got insecure, but you could catch a perk of brand nervous hesitation as his green eyes shot you an anxious glance. ‘’Did you like it?’’

‘’I loved it.’’ You pulled cheeks dimpled with joy that was kissed by Dean’s own smiling lips. The kiss was so gentle, it was his own palpable light hearted emotion. You being happy in his arms. It had been so long since he felt he could be enough, he could make someone happy. But you were right there. As you pulled away, another short kiss was given between playful words: ‘’That’s what I call a christmas miracle.’’

‘’Shush.’’ He leaned in and pecked your lips. As Dean pulled back, he couldn’t help but watch around with the pride of Hubris. His glance went back to you, a lopsided grin on his face. God, you loved that smile. You loved that man. ‘’So I added some whiskey to the hot cocoa. We could drink some, eat the pie, and see if those lights make a good improvise rope. What do you tell me?’’

All you could do was kiss him again.

Comment & reblog. Feedback is magic! Check my masterlist ♡

TAGS IN REBLOG!

WANNA BE TAGGED? SEND ME AN ASK/DM

[cajunquandary]

Hands that Heal

Link: (coming soon to Ao3)

Summary: Sometimes all you need is a little push the right direction...

Created for: @negans-lucille-tblr SPN Secret Santa Fic Exchange

Rating: 18+ only

Pairing: Dean x OFC (Jay)

Warnings: Jealous Dean, fluff, smut, smidge of angst, medical IV (briefly), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap the willy)

Wordcount: 3.8k

A/N: Happy Holidays, @jay-and-dean! I was so ecstatic to have received your name and hope that my ramblings make you smile a little.

.

It’s a funny thing, the way everyone goes on about the eyes being windows to the soul. Of course, they can be very telling, and if you ever catch yourself getting lost in those of the Winchesters, how could you believe anything else? Or perhaps you are more like Jay. 

Jay has been with the Winchesters for quite some time. She’s been lost in those eyes. And she’s been found. The pure green folds of Dean’s have scooped her up, swaddled her, saved her. So have Sam’s hazel, but not in quite the same way. Not that either brother knows. Only Cas. 

Cas has seen the way her deep brown eyes linger just a little longer than they ought to, can feel the ache in her chest. There are times when Jay meets the angel’s gaze just afterwards but looks away just as quickly. They both know, but they won’t talk about it. And that’s okay. 

But for Jay, she can see beyond the green. Beyond the freckles and blushing pensive lips, the curve of his jaw, the gently rolling hills of his chest and arms. She traces the majestic waves and ripples beneath his warm skin with only her eyes and her heart. They come to rest just past strong wrists and fall like weighted feathers upon Dean’s weathered hands. 

You see, that’s where the soul really reveals itself closest to visible flesh. Each scar and busted knuckle tell a story. The pattern of freckles and tan lines speak of years in the sun. The calluses of his palm and fingertips disclose a rough life, a tough job. They are toned with skill, accurate in all things. They can field strip a gun and put it back together in the blink of an eye, tie complicated knots with dexterity, bait a hook and cast a line without hesitation, and even mold and create custom parts for Baby as they fix her up.

And yet, the skin between those marks is soft, no longer as elastic as it once was, but still full of life and love. The very muscles that hold together the bone and sinew have the capacity to both take life, and give it. Jay has watched them rip apart monsters and gently caress and hold victims within the same minute. 

Such an extreme duality shouldn’t be so neatly wrapped up in one man, but it was. It was both Dean’s light and his curse. Jay shivered as she hesitated just a moment too long on the fantasy of those thick muscled, deadly, yet oh-so-gentle hands, imagining how they might tickle as they might glide over her smooth skin. Of course, Dean notices. 

“There’s no way you’re cold, Jay. It’s a hundred friggin degrees outside!”

Right. Jay had to remind herself that they were on a case. No distractions. “Yeah, I-I’m good. Just got a chill because, ya know, we’re next to human refrigerators.” She swallowed hard and clenched her teeth to help ground herself back to reality. 

It really was hotter than a witch’s tit out there and not much cooler inside the mortuary. Dean continued to read silently from some forms on the coroner’s clipboard before licking his thumb and index finger to turn the page. Heat washed over Jay, spreading like drunken honey from her scalp all the way to her toes. She tried to steady her breathing, remain in persona as a stoney FBI agent, but the hot red of her cheeks was giving her away. 

She tore her gaze away to inspect the body. Not that anything she made mental note of would stick at this point. Dean cleared his throat and pulled the clipboard closer to his face before setting his thumbnail between his teeth the way he always did when he was laser-focused on something. She only caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye, but it was the final bit to break her. 

With a huff, Jay exclaimed a little too loudly, “There’s nothing here for us, Dean. I’ll be in the car.” Her legs carried her much too quickly out the swinging doors and up the stairs. 

“Um, okay?” Dean grumbled to himself before setting the paperwork back in its place and following Jay. “What the hell got into her?” 

Jay was glad to leave Texas. Mid-July heat drained her, along with every plant and tree scorched under the unrelenting and searing white sun. The world around them was bleached and bathed in the almost-eerie too-bright light. Well, everything except what existed in the shadows of the Impala. The sparse countryside rolled away mile by mile as time ticked by with every song on Dean’s favorite cassette. 

The air conditioning just couldn’t keep up, so Dean rolled down the windows. Jay tied up her locks in frustration, leaving a messy excuse for a bun resting on top of her head. The leather seats did nothing to help as she sweat through her shorts until she was nearly sliding off the seat. 

“How much longer until Oklahoma?” She sighed. For the third time that hour.

Dean shot a glare in her direction before settling his attention back on the highway. The heat was getting to him too, and even with sunglasses on, spots were gathering in his vision and impairing him with every piercing flash of the sun off of the windshields of passing cars. “Jay, I swear if you ask me ‘are we there yet’ one more time, I’m going to friggin pull over.”

“Ugh, FINE.” Jay wished to be nearly anywhere but here. Resignation set in and she slumped in the seat and let her bare feet hang out the window, crossing her arms. 

Dean turned the music louder, trying to drown out his own misery rather than her. He began to belt out slightly off-key to “Dazed and Confused.”

Jay cracked a half smile but hid it from Dean. 

He rapped out the solos on the steering wheel, his hands keeping perfect time as they danced upon the taught leather. 

Maybe pulling over wouldn’t be a half-bad idea, Jay thought. 

She closed her eyes, allowing the steady rumble of the engine to echo through her as hot wind whipped through the cab. She cracked them open again just long enough to witness the stretch of tight skin over Dean’s knuckles, the way the washed out wilderness blurred past behind them and accentuated the tan he’d gained from driving. 

The image was burned into her mind. To help pass the time, Jay granted herself permission to linger on it, explore it. Despite the heat outside, a new, different heat grew steadily in her core, stirring somewhere deep between her heart and soul. 

Not too long after, the Impala slowed and turned into a run down gas station--the first one in an hour. As Dean filled up, Jay took the opportunity to find shelter in some air conditioning and hopefully an ice-cold drink. Inside the store was no better. In fact, it was worse. The air was still and thick with humidity from the cooler, which buzzed and whirred as if it were possessed. 

“Sorry, Miss. Cooler is out. Hot drinks only,” a disheveled and sweat-drenched employee slouched over the register. 

“Thanks… got any pie?” Jay decided that if they had to drink hot water, they may as well have some comfort food. 

“Whatever we got is over there.” The clerk motioned with his eyes, no strength to even lift a finger. 

Jay stalked back to the car empty handed and more pissed than ever. If the summer heat was something tangible, she could just strangle it. Kick it, punch it. Anything to fight it. 

Dean finished up just in time, careful not to touch the scorching black paint and chrome on the car. “What, you go pee and come out with nothing? I’m dyin’ here!”

Jay snapped. “NO DRINKS. NO PIE. NOTHING. K?!” 

Dean was taken aback by the outburst. It was then he noticed the sunken look and dark circles under her eyes and the red sheen over her face and neck. She was getting pale and wasn’t sweating anymore.

“Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry.” His brows knit as he drove slowly through the town, hoping for a decent motel to rest at for a while. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait but a few blocks before The Moonlight Motel came into view. 

Pay by the hour may not be the greatest, but at least it was cheap and would likely be empty this time of day. 

Jay was losing touch and the following events were a blur. The next thing she truly could grasp and remember was lying mostly clothed in a cold shower. Dean sat facing her atop the closed toilet seat, a worried face perched upon clasped hands. Still a bit out of it, Jay relaxed into the cool water as it slowly washed the fever down the drain. The world slipped away, replaced by a gentle, dark nothing.

When Jay stirred, the room was too dim to still be day and shadows were held at bay by only a small lamp on the far side of the dingy room. She couldn’t remember how she got there at first, but as she woke, things gradually came back to her. 

Dean had practically carried her to the room. He’d carefully set her in the bathtub and removed her belt, overshirt and boots. He’d turned on the cold water and at first, she’d protested, but slipped in and out of consciousness. He’d retrieved ice from the machine down the hall and poured it over her as he constantly monitored her vitals and temperature. 

He’d withdrawn her, a soaking wet dead weight, stripped away the sopping clothes while careful not to look where it would make her uncomfortable, and buttoned her up in the softest flannel he had. 

Jay glanced down at her right hand, as it felt stiff and sore. A needle was taped there, no longer hooked to the empty bag of saline, taped down and left in place just in case. Jay wiggled slightly when she realized that her other arm had gone quite numb beneath her and--Dean?

His soft snores disrupted as she shifted, equally mortified and elated to be nestled into the crook of his arm. Dean woke and rubbed his eyes, as if pretending he’d been awake the whole time. His voice was low and gravely from sleep. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” He looked down at her, so small in his arms, furious with himself for not taking better care of her. 

“M-good,” Jay choked out, completely entranced by being so close to the hunter. Close enough for their breath to mix and his cologne to shroud her senses. Close enough to see the flecks of golds and blues and dark greens in the folds of his irises. Her breath caught and she shivered. Again. Jay mentally kicked herself for that tell. “Thank you… Sorry I was being a brat.”

“No. No, this is on me. You were sun-sick. I’m sorry. I should’ve--”

Jay put a finger to his parted lips with only the intention to stop Dean from blaming himself (like always,) but the touch sent electric pulses through her fingertips and set fire to every nerve in her body. They were impossibly soft and warm. 

Dean caught her hand tenderly in his before she could pull away and planted a slow kiss on her knuckles. He watched anxiously as her pupils dilated and her breathing became more shallow. Pulling their hands out of the way, Dean leaned forward just slightly and planted a firm, reassuring kiss to her forehead. 

Jay’s mind was a mess. This was more than familial. Were they crossing a line? Or maybe it just meant that Dean was comfortable with her, and concerned. But even as the thoughts swirled, her lips had a mind of their own. As Dean traced his nose down hers until their heads were pressed together, Jay angled upward to meet him. 

When their lips locked, there was no more question. Jay loved Dean, and he knew and he loved her back. It was soft and sweet, with their eyes shut tight, just exploring and tasting and sucking gently. 

The remainder of the trip back to the bunker was spent with Dean humming, a stupid smile plastered on his face, and Jay resting across the front seat, her head in his lap. Dean stroked her soft, brown hair adoringly. The night was much cooler and comfortably dark with only dim, scattered stars to blanket the hunters. 

~

Everything was different after the motel. The kiss. 

Almost six months had gone by and for the most part, they’d been wonderful. Jay spent more time in Dean’s room than her own, and the hunts had been good so far, like old times. 

Until this one. 

Jay, Sam, and Dean were doing a bit of recon at a local bar to dig up some answers, or at the very least, a lead. Jay had dressed to stun, as usual. (After all, men’s lips tended to be a bit more loose around a pretty girl.)

Dean was hovering. Everytime Jay got close to some useful information, Dean would scare off the burly locals with a death glare. 

Until this one. 

This man was built like a tank. He towered even over Sam by a few inches and dwarfed Jay in comparison. Sam eyed her uncomfortably from a few tables over, but he always got like that when someone was bigger than him. Dean didn’t adjust his tactics at all, and when the big guy had enough of Dean dancing around him and bumping his chair with an insincere, “sorry, man,” the guy stood up and puffed out his chest. Dean moved to both protect Jay and get in a prime fighting position, but Jay yanked him away by the collar of his jacket faster than he could complain. 

She didn’t stop until they were completely outside the bar, then shoved him into the soot-covered brick wall. Dean opened his mouth to spout something pigheaded, but stopped himself as he felt the chill of her glare more than the chill of the snow flurries swirling around them. 

“Would you just trust me to do my job? What is your problem?” 

“I do! I just--” Dean waved in a flustered motion, unable to find the words. All he knew was that when she got a little too... comfortable... with anyone, he saw red. 

Still, Jay seemed to understand. She reached up and held his face firmly between her palms, forcing him to maintain eye contact. 

“I’m yours. I know that you worry, what you fear. I’m not going to leave you. Ever. No one can ever take me from you, either, because I’ll haunt your ass and you know it.”

Dean’s bottom lips quivered just barely, and he quickly bit it back. “Don’t you even joke about that,” his voice broke. 

“De- I’m right here, okay?”

 He nodded and leaned into her until his face was buried in her neck. He squeezed his arms around her, never wanting to know what it would feel like to have to let go. 

A muffled “let’s go back to the motel” emanated from somewhere within Jay’s scarf and she nodded in response. 

Dean grasped her hand as they walked the short distance back to the rented room. Jay stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide and pointing over to the edge of the woods. A startled “Dean!” escaped her, and Dean dropped her hand and withdrew his gun, ready for a fight. His plumes of hot breath on the air slowed to nearly nothing as he steadied himself and visually searched the area. 

What had she seen?

Before he could ask, something hard, round and icey struck the back of his shoulder with decent force. He spun on his heels and lowered his weapon to find Jay wide-mouthed and laughing, another snowball forming in her hands. 

“Son of a bitch! You want to play dirty, huh?” Dean howled. He holstered the pistol and raced to close the distance between them. With a squeal and a grunt, the two ended up in a heap in the wet, mushy snow. 

Jay managed to end up on top of him and leaned in for a deep kiss. She could feel the smile on his lips as his tongue graced across hers. When at last they came up for air, Dean was moving his arms and legs haphazardly. 

“A slush-angel?” Jay giggled at the sorry creation. 

“What, my art not good enough for you?” Dean retorted while wearing a shit-eating grin. “And no, actually, it’s a Yeti.” 

The wet chill began to sink into their bones, so they hurried onward. Dean fiddled with the key card but the lock gave him fits. 

“C’mon, Dean! I’m freezing to death!” 

“Yeah, yeah, me too. Hold your horses.”

At last, the door swung open and Jay rushed inside, leaving Dean to close and lock the door behind them. She’d already started stripping off the wet outer layers when Dean approached. With every step bringing him closer, his heartbeat rose and he wrestled out of his own layers. 

Jay moved to lift off her shirt, but Dean covered her hands with his, intertwining their fingers. He stood against her, and in one swift move, wrapped both of her wrists in a single firm grip behind her, and with the other, pressed an open palm against her belly. 

Jay gasped, her knees going weak with what she knew was coming next. Despite the weather, his touch was toasty. Coarse skin slid over her soft flesh, causing a friction that left Jay needing more. Heat flushed her cheeks and pooled deep in her stomach. Dean melted with every shuttered breath of hers as he stroked up and down beneath the fabric of her shirt, making sure to linger over the more sensitive areas as she twitched and bit down on her lip. 

Dean massaged her breasts with skilled fingers for a few moments, but a sensual twist of her nipple sent Jay reeling backwards, supported only by Dean’s other arm. With her head tilted back, Dean took the opportunity to kiss and suck and nip zig-zagged lines over the most delicate parts of her neck and along her collarbone. 

Jay squirmed and panted with lust-blown pupils and a cry just on the tip of her tongue. Dean’s grasp only steadied her against him more until he found himself grinding into her, faint moans already filling the air. The growing bulge in his pants drove Jay mad. She wanted to be covered by him, skin on skin, needed him inside her. 

“D-Dean please, please…” Jay whimpered and attempted to wiggle out of his hold once more to no avail. 

“Please, what, pretty girl? Tell me what you want.” Dean breathed against her ear, just above a whisper. He sucked and nibbled in the hollow behind it.

A shudder wracked Jay, but this time, she didn’t mind the tell. She had him. He was hers. But right then, she needed more and she knew he was holding back. “Unnghh, please… need you, now,” she managed.

“Okay, Baby,” Dean crashed his lips to hers and shifted until Jay was suspended in the air and straddling him as he walked them towards the bed. He dropped her playfully and they scrambled to see who could lose their remaining clothes the fastest.

In a fray of scattered clothing, Dean climbed on top of her, comfortably crushing Jay into the lumpy mattress. He let his full weight rest upon her. 

“Stop it,” she giggled as his scruff tickled her cheek. 

“Why don’t you make me?” Dean grinned between planting kisses everywhere he could reach. 

Before he could react, Jay had him rolled onto the floor. She straddled him and tried to concentrate despite his hard cock resting perfectly between her hot, dripping folds. Her hair created a curtain around their faces, blocking out everything but that moment and the sensations it was riddled with. Dean’s eyes closed and mouth opened like a fish out of water. His breaths were shallow and shaky. Jay fought the urge to lift her hips just so, knowing that if she did, and she came back down upon him, his throbbing dick would line up just perfectly… and they’d end up on the floor for the remainder of their romp. 

She rose to her feet, grasping his hand and pulling him up with her. Dean’s eyes were full of question, longing. His cheeks were flushed and hot to the touch. He was melting at every touch and could do nothing about it but wait for her. 

Jay led him over to the chair and pushed him into it. He nearly tripped on his way down. That stupid smile she loved so much spread across his face again as he dug his fingers into her hips and pulled her onto him. She let out a yelp as the broad head of his large cock spread her entrance, dripping with precum, and buried itself deep inside until her walls stretched almost uncomfortably. The shock of his size was something she’d never get used to. Each time was like the first, the same butterflies swarming in her stomach, the same jolts of pure lust burning through her veins.

Dean gasped and held her close to him, trembling hands roaming her back and squeezing her ass. Jay carded her hands through his hair and pulled just slightly at the nape of his neck as he whined in approval. Those laments made her head swim and her limbs weak. Drunk on Dean, she adjusted her position until he was sunk deep into the spot that was just right, then began to move back and forth, slow and steady. Dean’s breaths stuttered and his head fell back, leaving his neck open for Jay to take into her mouth. 

“Fuck--Baby you feel s-so good,” he stammered between increasing moans and grunts. She could see in his eyes that he was losing control.

Jay cried out as he began to fight her movements with his own, pounding up in all the right spots. She arched her back as the coil wound tighter… higher… tighter… higher... until she shattered in his arms, his name and curses spilling from her gaping mouth. 

He held her through it and chased his own orgasm, sucking a mark onto her chest before he spilled into her. Everyone would know she was his, and only his. Her walls clenched in waves and he pulsed within them, his delicious sounds filling her ears as she came down. 

Jay crashed her lips into his, and he returned with fervor until they were both completely breathless. Wrapped there in Dean’s arms, Jay was home. 

No, nothing was ever the same after that first kiss. And that was okay. It was amazing.

.

.

WAYWARD PEEPS:

@carryonmywaywardcaptain @manawhaat @supernatural-jackles @jensen-jarpad @wheresthekillswitch @bummblebeeblue @nothin-after-79-blog @docharleythegeekqueen @fangirl-writing-fiction @taste-of-dean @impala-dreamer @arryn-nyxx @idk-life01 @attorneyl @deathtonormalcy56 @xwing-baby @wonder-cole @itsangelpie @thinkinghardhardlythinking

ANGST BABES:

@trexrambling​ @abbessolute @emptywithout

ALL ABOUT THAT DEAN:

@akshi8278 @will-winchester

@waywardbaby* the smut was heavily inspired by The Scene. Tagged as promised lol

Tag List now open!

[idreamofplaid]

A Merry Little Christmas

Summary: Christmas can be, above all, a season of hope. Dean reminds the reader of that.

Characters: Dean x Reader; Marla & Ted (OCs)

Word Count: 2821

Warnings: Oral (female receiving)

A/N: This is for @firefly-in-darkness written as part of @negans-lucille-tblr ‘s fic exchange. I hope you like it. It’s inspired by the song “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”.

The bar was empty with the exception of some of the hardcore regulars. It was the week before Christmas, and that changed the clientele somewhat, but not entirely. Some of the fortunate had places to be, loved ones to draw near, and celebrations to bring to life the joyful intent of the season. For others, it was the same routine, December 25th was just another day on the calendar. 

Marla Henderson had her usual seat at the end of the bar wearing something tight fitting and low cut to see whose eye she might catch. She’d been doing it ever since her husband left in a desperate grab at feeling wanted, desired, and validated again. Watching her always made Y/N feel a hollow, nagging sadness in the pit of her stomach. She could be Marla in a few years, only without the husband. 

That thought filled her with melancholy, and the music from the jukebox wasn’t helping. The Carpenters could always make her feel wistful even when the song was about roasting chestnuts and meant to be festive. The garland that was hanging in swags around the room was also having the opposite of the desired effect on her. It looked out of place, like a poor attempt at a pretense of merriment.

Ted Markham was also here tonight, slinging back the whiskeys. The holidays hadn’t changed anything for him, or about him. He was always on the prowl, looking to get lucky, and far too often he was looking to get lucky with her; tonight was no different. “Hey, darlin’, how about another one?”

She poured another shot in his glass and asked a little more cynically than she should  with a customer, “Don’t you ever have a limit, Ted?”

He put his hand over hers suggestively. “Not too often, gorgeous.”

She pulled her hand away and put the bottle back on the shelf. He just wasn’t getting the hint tonight. “Y/N, why don’t you come over here and sit on this stool next to me? It’s a slow night. Nobody’s gonna mind.”

He was right about one thing. It was a slow night. Couples seemed to have already paired up for the holidays to bask in the warmth of true love or enjoy a fleeting whatever to help get them through the season. After a string of disappointing boyfriends and too many dashed dreams of holiday romance, Y/N had basically given up. “Sounds tempting, Ted, but I’m gonna pass.”

He wasn’t usually a belligerent drunk, but maybe something in the tone of her voice had set him off. “Now is that any way to talk to your best customer?”

Y/N had been in her share of tight spots thanks to her chosen line of work over the years, but this time she found herself getting really uncomfortable and just wishing she could sink beneath the bar and hide.

She was struggling for a comeback and starting to get flustered when a tall, powerfully built stranger with broad shoulders and the face of a Calvin Klein model confidently strode up to the bar. He made a point of standing in Ted’s space and flashed Y/N an easy smile. She got lost in his deep green eyes for a minute and almost missed what he said. “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart.”

He gave a cursory glance over his shoulder at Ted. That was all he needed to do. This man had an air about him that anyone with an ounce of sense or self preservation would know not to challenge. Ted made a lame excuse about it being late and hastily left.

The unknown, handsome guy took a seat on the barstool Ted had vacated. Marla was already giving him her best sultry look. Y/N recovered from her earlier discomfort. There was something about being in this guy’s presence that made her feel safe. She couldn’t think of anything clever to say so she went with, “Thanks for rescuing me. Can I offer you a drink on the house?”

He smiled again, and she felt her Grinch like shrunken heart start to glow a little bit. “Sure. I’m Dean.” He extended his hand.  When she accepted his hand to shake it, it was warm, solid, and strong. Y/N could get used to the feeling of that hand.

Dean stayed until closing time, and after a couple shots of whiskey he had switched to beer. It was a small gesture but one that didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N. He wasn’t interested in getting drunk.

Y/N wasn’t sure why he was alone in a bar tonight. Maybe he didn’t have anywhere to go? Maybe he was alone too? That was hard to believe; look at him. And for the first time since she’d noticed Dean, she did. She really looked at him.

There was a depth in his eyes that it was easy to miss at first, probably because he kept it hidden; he didn’t want anyone to see it. It was a type of softness wrapped up and hidden by the hard glint he’d most likely put in his eyes because sometimes he needed that to survive.

Y/N was fascinated by Dean and spent the rest of her shift getting to know him. Marla gave up after about forty-five minutes and left when Dean hadn’t so much as tossed a look in her direction. Y/N’s questions weren’t too probing, just the getting to know you kind of stuff. “I’ve never seen you around before. What brings you to town?”

Dean took a slow drag from his beer, and the way his full lips circled around the opening of that bottle was more than a little distracting. He gave a mirthless chuckle and sighed. “Business is kind of slow for once. Don’t have much family, just my brother. He’s got a new girlfriend. They’ve been dancing around each other for a couple of years now. Finally took the plunge, and I’d just be the third wheel. So, I hit the open road to see where it’d take me.” He took another drink of his beer and appraised her with his eyes. They stopped their downward movement at her neck, which she also appreciated. “What about you? How’d you end up in this bar?”

This was a story Y/N didn’t tell often. She preferred to keep it pushed back as far as she could get it, covered in dust, on a high shelf where no one ever looked. She wanted to tell him, and poured herself a drink to reinforce her courage. “I needed a new start. Life didn’t turn out at all like I had expected or hoped, and I thought a change in geography might magically fix it.” She put her whiskey glass down on the bar after only taking one sip. “I was wrong.” 

Dean didn’t say anything, instead waiting for her to go on when she was ready. “I didn’t have the happiest childhood. For awhile I thought I’d escaped all that. Met a guy. We even had a little house together, but then he cheated on me. End of fairytale.”

Dean leaned forward, resting his forearms on the bar. His voice was quiet, reflective. He looked into her eyes, and she knew he actually saw her. “Bastard. You deserved better.”

Y/N laughed, the way she sometimes did when she didn’t know how to process her feelings. “How do you know? You just met me.”

Dean paused, and there was a heaviness in his words when he answered, “I know how to read people.”

Y/N laughed again. “Do you think you could teach me how to do that? I always pick the wrong guy. Did it three more times after him.” She downed the remaining whiskey in her glass.

Wanting to change the subject, Y/N looked around the bar to see if someone needed a refill. She’d been so engrossed in her conversation with Dean that she hadn’t noticed the place had completely emptied out, and it was only 1 am. Christmas. People and their places to go, or worse their utter despair at having nowhere to go. Dean looked around and assessed the situation too. He turned back to her, “Hey, why don’t you close up? I’ll wait and take you home.”

She welcomed his offer; she didn’t want to be alone in this place tonight. The sadness, desperation, and discontent just seemed to hang in the air. Y/N made quick work of wiping down all the tables and securing the stockroom, including the safe. Dean was waiting for her when she reemerged.

He pulled his keys from his pocket; the jingle was loud, but not unpleasant in the empty bar. “My car’s outside.” Y/N nodded. She’d call someone to get a ride to work tomorrow; her car would be okay here. Right now, she just wanted someone to take care of her, even if all that meant was a ride home.

His car matched the man. Rare. Powerful. Something you didn’t see everyday, and completely beautiful. Dean opened the very large and shiny black passenger door for her. He had an unexpected side too. Guys this tough usually didn’t act so gentlemanly.

Her tiny bungalow wasn’t far, and the ride ended too soon for Y/N. Sticking to his chivalrous ways, Dean walked her to the front door. It almost felt like the end of a date, and she found herself wanting to kiss him. Snow started to fall, and she pulled her coat around her more tightly 

Y/N tilted her head up and one of the big fluffy flakes landed on her cheek. For a minute, she remembered how giddy the sight of snow had made her when she was a girl. It was still a symbol of beauty and hope for her. She saw the flakes start to collect in Dean’s hair. Without thinking, she reached up and brushed her fingers over his hair, but resisted the urge to run her fingers through it.  His eyes caught hers for a minute as the snow fell between them before he leaned down and kissed her with a touch as light as the snow that fell on her face.

She opened her eyes slowly. It was quiet with the kind of peace that only a snowfall can bring. The heat was radiating off his body. It warmed her, and she didn’t want to let that warmth,or him, go. “Do you want to come inside?” 

They both knew what that meant. Something had passed between them during that kiss. Dean licked his lips and seemed to be thinking. His eyes lingered on hers for a minute before he answered, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

As soon as they were inside, Y/N took off her coat and hung it up. Then she turned to Dean and started to push his jacket from his shoulders. “Let’s get you out of this.” She hung it on a peg next to her coat. When she turned back to him, he pulled her into a close embrace and kissed her with purpose. It was slow, deep, and doing everything he meant it to do. HIs tongue circled hers, and her arousal grew. If his kiss alone could do this to her, she was in for a memorable night. 

Dean’s hands made their way down her back until one stopped on her waist while the other snaked lower down to cup her ass and give it a light squeeze. She was starting to breathe heavier into his mouth. She pulled away from the kiss and took his hand. “Bedroom’s this way.”

The rooms in her house were tiny, too tiny to accommodate big beds. Right now the coziness of her full size bed seemed perfect. Dean immediately began to strip off his layers of shirts. She watched his naked shoulders and back while he bent over to take off his boots. His body was toned and had just the right amount of muscle. Y/N imagined her fingernails digging into his back. 

She was dragged from her fantasy back to the glory of reality when Dean started to unbutton the black shirt she wore for bartending duties. Underneath that functional shirt she was wearing the kind of bra that makes a girl feel pretty, and the way Dean was looking at it made her feel more than that. His look told her just how much he desired her. 

He took off his jeans before he laid her down on the bed and turned his attention to her lace covered breasts. He laved at her nipples, sucking and kissing them through the fabric. He took one of her taut nubs between his teeth and pulled at it. She moaned beneath him. “Dean, please.” 

He slid further down her body, dragging his hands down her sides, kissing all the way down to her pants that were in the way of what she wanted. Dean removed that barrier, taking her panties off at the same time. He parted her thighs and settled between her legs. He made a long swipe with his tongue through her folds, stopping at her clit to lap at before settling his lips around it to suck.

The way he’d kissed her didn’t lie; he knew what to do with his mouth. She was whimpering and pleading with him for more. He pushed at her entrance with one finger, gently exploring. Then he added another and started scissoring them to open her up. She came on his mouth while he stroked her g spot with his fingers.

Her fingers were buried in his hair, and her fists were closed around handfuls of it. Dean whispered against her core, “You’re beautiful, sweetheart.” He kissed her inner thighs while she came down from her orgasm. 

When her breath evened out, she sat up; Dean rose up on his knees to face her. She reached behind her to unhook her bra and let it fall. Then she reached for the waistband of Dean’s boxer briefs to push them down and release his erect cock to stand thick against his stomach. He finished taking them off while she fumbled to open her bedside drawer and get a condom. She handed it to him, he sheathed himself, then laid her back down on the bed, kissing her as they went. 

He buried his face into her neck and kissed that sensitive spot beneath her ear. She put her arms around him and whispered, “Now, Dean. I’m ready for you.”

He entered her with a smooth, swift motion. She inhaled sharply, and he pushed deeply inside her. She moved her body with his, feeling every drag of his cock over her sweet spot and push of it against her cervix. Just like she’d imagined, she dug her fingers into his back when she came and felt him throb inside her, coming just seconds after she did.

Dean said her name as he let go, and she clenched around him; her orgasm revived by his, by the pleasure she could hear she was giving him. They lay motionless for a sweet moment before Dean moved to take care of the condom. When he returned, easing the covers back and slipping into bed she asked him, “What are you doing?”

He motioned for her to get under the warm blankets with him. She settled in beside him, and he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m holding you.”

The snow was still falling outside, and she watched it fall through the window, not sure what to say. It was Dean who spoke again. “Is that okay? Do you want me to go?”

She let herself relax and lay her hand on his chest. “No, I don’t want you to go. I guess I just thought you would. That’s the way this usually goes.”

Dean kissed the top of her head. “Well, that’s not how it should go. You should be held, kissed some more, and told just how beautiful you are. A man would be crazy not to know how lucky he is to have a woman like you in his arms.”

Y/N got very quiet. She felt tears in her eyes, and for once they weren’t tears of sadness. She closed her eyes and just let herself feel what it was like to be so close to him and to hear a man say these kinds of things to her. She trusted him. She trusted what he was saying, and she trusted that this could be something that lasted beyond tonight. Was this even possible? Could it be possible that there was such a thing as a Christmas miracle? She had believed in them back when snow meant hope to her. Dean tightened his hold around her, making her feel secure, and she felt him kiss her forehead. Yes, they could be real.

Everything: @gambitwinchester​ @princessmisery666​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @peridottea91​ @logical-princey​ @emilyshurley​ @beenlovingromansincedayoneish​ @fangirlxwritesx67​ @waywardbaby​ @atc74​ @ledzeppelinsbonzo​ @shaniquacynthia​ @mariekoukie6661​ @tumbler-tidbits​ @67-chevy-baby​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @terrarium-jpeg​ @emoryhemsworth​ @crashdevlin​ @heycasbutt​ @jules-1999​ @mrsdeannafuckingwinchester​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @sammyimpala-67​ @queenoftheunderdark​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @mrs-meghan-winchester​ @timelordy-fangirl2​ @sweetness47​ @hobby27​ @awesomesusiebstuff​ @kickingitwithkirk​ @becs-bunker​ @sandlee44​ @supernaturalgrandma​ @lonewolf471​ @sea040561​ @dawnie1988​ @maddiepants​ @volleyballer519​ @outcastedangel​ @kdfrqqg​ @lizette50​ @daisymoder72​ @sorenmarie87​ @oldfreakything​ @winchesterxfamilybusiness​ @deansotherotherblog​

Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee​ @flamencodiva​ @deanwinchesterswitch​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @sammit-janet​ @focusonspn​ @akshi8278​ @ladywinchester1967​ @sgarrett49​ @wingedcatninja​ @coffee-obsessed-writer​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @ellewritesfix05​ 

[serenityhayato]

Christmas Cheer

 Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader

Warnings: slightly Sad!Sam, fluff

Summary: After a bad hunt, you set out to lift Sam’s spirits with a bit of Christmas cheer.

Word Count: 678

A/N: This is for the SPN Secret Santa Exchange hosted by the lovely @negans-lucille-tblr​! I had the pleasure of writing for @peridottea91​ and I hope you enjoy it!

With everything in place, you hoped that it would come together perfectly. After hearing Sam had been in low spirits since the last hunt and had not quite shaken the funk off, you decided that Christmas would be the perfect time to cheer up your favorite person in the world. While putting up the Christmas decorations and making sure the fake fireplace heater would not burn anything, you hoped the girls could distract the boys long enough for you to finish.

Ellen had been tasked with keeping Dean at the bar all night even if it meant hiding baby’s keys. Jody had the slightly difficult task of keeping Sam occupied at least long enough for you to finish. You hoped to remind Sam that as difficult as a hunt could be (you had quite a few of those yourself and understood the pain Sam must be going through), it’s better to take a break every once in a while and act normal. As you placed the crown jewel on top of the tree, you hoped it would give Sam something to be happy about.

After everything has been set up, you suit up in an overstuffed Santa costume (beggars can’t be choosers when it comes to last minute spending) and hid beside the door. Checking the clock, you see that you have just 5 minutes to spare before Jody drops Sam off. Holding your breath, you wait for Sam to walk into the room before jumping out. However, you find yourself on the floor with a shocked Sam above you.

“Uhh…Merry Christmas????” was all you said before the room became very quiet. “Sorry”, apologized Sam but you shook your head as you reached his hand to get up. “You’re good! I should have realized that trying to do that with an experienced hunter is just asking to get knocked over!” You notice though that while Sam was taking the room in, the sad glint in his eyes was still there. “Hey Sam this is all for you! I kind of decided that you needed some cheering up and what better way was there than celebrating Christmas!” You were doubting if this was a smart idea, given that he hadn’t exactly reacted with joy like how you wanted him too.

“You know we don’t typically celebrate given our profession.” You cut him off before he could continue. “I know but you feel like you need a pick me up and I hate seeing you so sad like this.” You lift your hand and place it on his cheek. “You know you can tell me anything Sam. I’m not rushing you to tell me right now but just know that I’m here if you need anything. For now, I’m helping the only way I can.” Sam’s tense shoulders droop down and he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer. He leans his forehead against yours as he whispers, “I know and I am so grateful that you would put so much effort into cheering me up, it’s just sometimes..,” He doesn’t finish the sentence but you understand what he was trying to say.

Pecking his lips, you smile up at him as you say “I know. How about we take a break from the world for a couple of hours and just huddle up next to the fire.” He smiles softly as he leads you next to the heater. “I would take up your offer but sitting in front of the heater is never a good idea unless you want to get burned. You’ll have to deal with the cold on the side for a bit while the room heats up.” You giggle as you cuddle up next to him. “Isn’t it just wonderful that I have this scorching body of heat right next to me then”. Sam laughed as he drew you in close. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you had this planned out since the beginning.” “Shh Sam, you can call me out tomorrow. For now, let’s just enjoy the moment.”

[i-make-questionable-choices]

For You, Sweetheart? Anything.

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 850

Summary: Finally having a home to decorate, the reader sets about preparing for Christmas.

For: @that-one-gay-girl​

A/N: This ended up being quite a bit shorter than I set out to write, but it just felt so natural for it to end where it did, and any edits I made made it feel to stuffy, so i left it as is. Also, this was part of the @spnsecretsantaficexchange run by the lovely @negans-lucille-tblr. Thank you for organizing this it was great fun and I hope you do this next year!  And as always, please like and comment, feedback is golden! Happy Holidays!

Dean wasn’t at first sure why he was awake, his room looked, as he rubbed a hand over his eyes, perfectly normal. He was almost prompted to go back asleep when he heard it.

       Faintly, a rummaging and rustling of objects. If that wasn’t enough tell, a faint, warm, light peeked in from his door, sneaking through the cracks despite it being shut.

      Despite the bunkers thick walls, the layers of warding did not protect against the winter chill; Dean supposed that was a disadvantage of living in an incredibly old bunker. Still, he shrugged on his robe, neglecting his slippers in favour of silence.

      Though he did not, for whatever reason, feel as though whatever or whoever was causing this disturbance was malicious in its intent, habit still had him reaching for his gun.

      The light in the hall was faint, and Dean blinked in surprise at its source. Teeny tiny, itty-bitty string lights strung up to frame each door; a red ribbon around every doorknob. Cautiously, he crept through the hall.

     A quick glance down the corridor at Sam’s room confirmed his brother was still asleep, or at least his door, decorated like the other, was shut. However, when he looked towards Y/N’s room, the door was ajar. Peering inside, the bed was rumpled, a corner pulled back, but empty. Your robe and slippers were also missing.

      Creeping out of the room and making his way towards the library, Dean lowered his gun into his pocket. Ahead, he could see the cozy glow of the libraries lights.

       He had to blink a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light. The room felt completely different. Red tinsel scalloped the edges of the tables, while the silver wrapped around the staircase behind him. Little belled pieces of mistletoe decorated the corners of the many old computers and instruments.

        Despite all this, his attention glanced past them and into the library, padding forwards and into it. Yet more tinsel lined the book shelves and dropped off the table. The table itself had candles interspersed with foliage upon it. On top of the smaller book shelves were bowls of pinecones, also accompanied by candles. The light atop the table was capped with a Santa Hat.

      You hadn’t noticed him yet. Your back was turned to him as you sat cross legged on the floor. One of the chairs was pulled out with a pile of paper resting on its cushion. Beside you on the floor, a growing pile of 3D snowflakes.

      “What are you doing up sweetheart?”

      You whipped around, nearly tipping over in haste.

      “Jesus Christ Dean!” Your voice, though strong, was hushed. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

      Dean frowned.       “Y/N, it’s nearly one in the morning, what the hell are you doing up?”

      “I couldn’t sleep,”

      Dean frowned, brow furrowed in confusion when you interrupted him.

      “I mean, we’ve finally got our own place, right?” You said, turning back to your cutting, “we haven’t had a normal Christmas in ages and, well, I wanted to do something special for you guys.”

      He softened, you were right after all.

      You had joined the Winchester clan at the meek age of twelve, barely coming in to your own when your father, a hunter friend of Johns, got himself iced. And not once since you joined them had any of them had a proper Christmas.

      With an aggrieved, albeit exaggerated, sighed as he thudded down on the floor.

     ���Right, hand ‘em over, Sweetheart.”

      “What?”

      “The scissors, hadn’t ‘em over.”

      Pausing, you set the aforementioned scissors down and turned to face him.

       “Why?”

       “Because, the faster you get this done, the sooner you’ll go to sleep,” he retorted picking up the scissors as well as a ready triangle of paper.

      “Why do you care if I sleep? We haven’t heard of any monsters in days, even if one happens to pop up, I can catch sleep in the car.”

     Dean looked up, not at you, simply staring ahead of him, seemingly contemplating his words. You were perplexed when he let out a defeated sigh, the eyes that turned to you a storm of emotions.

     “Because I care about you, Y/N, I care about you a lot; more than I should.”

     “Dean-”

      “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to tell you, I know it’s weird,”

      “Dean-”

      “And I didn’t want to make things awkward between us-”

      “Dean!” Your voice was firm enough to make him stop and look at you once more, though it was neither loud nor unkind.

      “You’re rambling, Dean. You haven’t given me a chance to speak. And you’re wrong to make assumptions about me; I care about you too.”

      “Y/N…”       “Shh…” you pressed a finger to his lips. “ Just enjoy the moment, just for tonight. We can talk more about this later but please? Just… let it be?”

      Those eyes, pleading and wide, reflecting the festive lights that you had put up, he couldn’t resist them, he couldn’t resist you.

      He leant forwards, pausing before closing the gap.

      “For you, sweetheart? Anything.”

-

Supernatural Tags: (open)

Dean/Jensen Tags: (open)

@akshi8278​

[spnsecretsantaficexchange]

Reminder

Tomorrow is the deadline. If you need a little longer, please let me know so I can pass on the information to your SS.

If for any reason you really really can't finish your request let me know ASAP, I really don't want anyone to go without, this is Christmas and I want everyone to have something in return for what they've produced for someone else. So I'd rather you tell me so we can work something out for your SS's sake than just not produce anything and leave someone without.

Thanks everyone for your entries so far, and Merry Christmas ❤️

[waywardnerd67]

The Winchester Carol

Summary: Their most important battle is ahead of them and the Winchesters do not know how it will play out. As the leaves fall from trees from the cool wind bring winter to Kansas, Dean Winchester decides to make this holiday season special for the only other person to be by his side. Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Fluff/Slight Angst/Slight AU (you’ll see) Word Count: 1370 Secret Santa: @jaceyneedsabetterusername​ A/N 1: This is for @negans-lucille-tblr​ SPN Secret Santa Fic Exchange A/N 2: I’m sorry in advance.

Dean, you gave me what I needed most. I want to do the same for you.

At the time, he had no idea what Amara had meant before she went off with her brother, Chuck. It was not until he wandered around for a cell signal finding (Y/N) standing before him no older than the day he last saw her he thought he knew what she meant. He did not. Now, the world was truly ending as Chuck was no longer an ally but a foe. The time he had left with her he wanted it to be special, magical, perfect.

From the moment of her return, Dean wasted no time in telling her how he felt. If he was given a second chance then he was not going to take it for granted. Everyday, he lived it like it was the last with her. Most of the time, (Y/N) would find it endearing or sweet. Other times, she would be embarrassed or smack him upside his head. Either way, Dean had never experienced a love like the one he had with her and often was grateful for Amara bringing her back. Now, as the cool December wind brought in the first snow, Dean was sitting in his Baby waiting to pick the love of his life up for a special holiday date.

One of the many things he loved about (Y/N) was that she never needed to be impressed. Dinner and a movie was fine by her especially if it was in the Dean Cave with their favorite pizza and horror movies. When they did get dressed up it was usually because they were already in fed outfits for a case. They would take the opportunity to go out to a nice place and then back to the motel if they were patient. If not, Baby never failed to be a perfect place for them to show their love for one another.

However, this date was particularly special and had taken Dean months to plan out, not to mention, keep secret from her. He got out of his car wiping his hands down his dress slacks nervously. Going up to the Bunker door he rapped his fist against it three times. Even though they lived there together in the same room, he wanted to officially pick her up. Boy, was he glad he had insisted on it.

(Y/N) stepped through the doorway nearly knocking Dean off his feet from her beauty. Her hair swept to one side not a strand out of place. Her make-up simple, emphasizing her already stunning features. It was the outfit that did him in. She had on his red and black buffalo flannel tucked into the waistband of a puffy black skirt that came down to her knees. Then her toned legs went into a pair of red heels making them go on for days. While she was straightening her skirt he snapped a picture of her with his phone to remember the moment.

“Hey handsome, is this alright? You didn’t give me much to go on?” Her sweet voice made his heart flutter.

“You’re perfect.” He held his arm out to her linking hers and walking her to Baby.

They had a twenty minute drive to a local park. Dean parked Baby at the beginning of their path. (Y/N) slipped her winter coat on as the cold breeze picked up slightly. Linking arms once again, led her down memory lane.

“Is that… is that us in Lawrence?” She asked looking at the enlarged framed picture.

He smiled widely, “Sure is. It was the last Christmas before my dad decided to leave Lawrence for good. Of course, we didn’t know that then. I just remember Sammy and I staying at your house on Christmas Eve. We watched Christmas movies, ate cookies and then we stayed up in your room trying to listen for hooves on the roof.”

Her laughter was like music to his ears, “That was the night my parents took a picture of us snuggled together as we watched Frosty the Snowman. It was like they knew we were meant to be together.”

(Y/N) did not often speak of her parents only when it was good memories. That Christmas was a good memory for them both. They stood admiring the picture of them in matching pjs and Santa hats. He moved a strand of her hair back into place before they continued their journey.

“I liked you back then. Even though you had cooties I always thought I wouldn’t mind having hers. I’ll never forget the tantrum I threw when my dad told me we were moving. I always resented him for not even allowing me to say goodbye to my best friend.”

(Y/N) hugged his arm, “It wouldn’t have been goodbye but see you later.”

That brought them to the next picture posted on their path. It was one Sam had taken just after their dad came to get (Y/N) after her parents were in a car accident. They were teens at the time and Dean did not know what to do to make her feel better. When he asked her all she had whispered was to hold her. That was exactly what he did.

“I knew in that moment I never wanted to let go of you. I also knew that I would need to protect you at all costs since you were going to be living in this life. Of course, I was just a dumb teenage boy at the time who could never say that to you.”

She turned towards him slipping beneath his arm, wrapping her arms around his waist, “I’ve never felt more protective or loved than I do when I’m right in this spot.”

Dean pressed his lips to the top of her head, “Me too, sweetheart.”

They continued down the path with more pictures of the two of them together throughout the years. Including one after Amara had brought her back where she was sleeping against Dean in the car.

He stopped just before the door to the park pavilion, “Every moment, good or bad or ugly, has led us here. I can’t imagine my life without you in it and I don’t want whatever comes after this life to not have you in it either. So…”

Dean knelt down in front of her pulling on a small box revealing a simple gold band. (Y/N) brought her hands to her mouth as a gasp slipped through her lips. He could see her body trembling as spoke from the heart and asked her the most important question of his life.

“(Y/N), will you do me the honors of spending the rest of eternity with me as my wife?” He took her shaking hand placing the ring on her finger.

“Yes. Yes!” she yelled as she leaned down kissing him deeply.

He wrapped his arms around her holding her tightly then whispered, “We’re not done yet.”

Dean opened the door revealing all of their hunter family sitting on either side of an aisle with Castiel standing at the end of it. Sam and Eileen standing on either side of him smiling as they walked in.

“Holy… what? Is this what I think it is?” She looked around bewildered with a slow smile spreading across her face.

“I hope it’s okay, but I don’t want to spend another second without you as my wife.”

She pressed her lips to his once again, “It’s perfect.”

“Hey! You’re not supposed to do that until afterwards!” Sam called out as everyone chuckled.

The ceremony was short and confusing as Castiel performed it but eventually they were announced husband and wife.

Dean leaned down kissing (Y/N) after Castiel prompted him too. When they turned to face their family as Mr. and Mrs. Winchester their smiles vanished. Everyone turned to see what they were staring at as Sam and Eileen flanked either side of the newlyweds.

A slow clap breaking the tense silence in the room, “Congratulations Dean and (Y/N), I truly wish you all the best even if you will only have a short time to enjoy marital bliss.”

Chuck took a few steps forwards before smiling and snapping his fingers.

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

For updates please follow #waywardnerd67fics

[jackandthesoulmates]

Part of the Family

Summary: It’s your first Christmas after moving to Lebanon. And Dean will celebrate with you.

Rating: 12 [implied smut later]

Pairings: Dean x (female coded) Reader

Tags: fluff

WC: 880

A/Ns: This is my fic for @like-a-bag-of-potatoes for the @spnsecretsantaficexchange

You have everything prepared, you’ve checked everything a thousand times. And you will also check again. 

It’s snowed this morning, perfect for Christmas Eve! It looks like the world got sugar coated and your christmas decorations outside blink without any fall out. Not a single bulb is broken! The house smells of cinnamon, mulled wine, and turkey. It’s your first one, you did it exactly like granny did. Every single step of the menu is like home. You also wrapped your presents for Dean, but you’re not the perfect gift wrapper. That’s a tiny bummer for you but also, Dean would surely appreciate the effort!

It’s dawning already and you light the Christmas decorations outside, a Christmas themed record is playing the best songs. And you can still hear your pounding heart. It’s normal to be nervous. It’s the first Christmas with him, and he’s a very busy man. A strange man also, but that’s what you like about him. He’s extraordinary and he adores you. And you certainly adore him. Dean’s a hero driving a very old car, an Impala. And he lives in a bunker with his brother and two roommates. It’s a strange thing going on, but you don’t want to ask too many questions, it seems like it works for them. 

You sit on your sofa, Caesar the cat comes and jumps in your laps, purring and demanding some love. You cuddle him and ignore the tiny claws which might cause a ladder in your glittering nylons. You bought them for this special occasion, first Christmas in the new home and first Christmas with a new boyfriend. Starting new in Lebanon was a good decision. 

Caesar rubs himself all over as if he knows a man is coming over and he needs to mark you as his territory. Your dress is short, not too short. But it will definitely gain Dean’s attention like you hope. It has a low cut back, embroidered with pearls and lace. It was pricey. Worth it!

Even the lingerie matches, sweet, thin nothings, easily took off if needed to. 

Yes you’re very excited about Dean. And he hopefully is for you. 

You cling on Caesar, listening to “Driving Home For Christmas” and then you see out of the living room window someone’s coming up your driveway. Your heart jumps in joy, Caesar leaves you when you get up and hurry to the door. 

‘Deep breaths’, you tell yourself, ‘breathe in and out! There’s nothing to be nervous about.’

A last look in the mirror. Hair is perfect, fluffy and curled (the result of hours in the bathroom), your smokey eye is on point and makes your eyes pop! And that red lipstick, kiss proof makes your lips pouty and kissable. And the dress is a true revelation! It’s perfect!

It knocks. And Dean from outside calls out.

“Ho-ho-honey, there’s a lit up reindeer in your yard! That normal?”

You laugh. He’s such a dork.

When you open the door, you gasp gently. He looks amazing. Anthrazit suit, a dark red silk ribbon instead of a tie. And his eyes are glowing in happiness!

He smiles at you, then leans in and kisses you. 

“Hey, honey. Merry Christmas”, he whispers and you shiver.

Not only because it’s cold outside…

“Hey”, you reply, eyes closed, silently pleading for another kiss. 

Which he does, of course.

“So, the reindeer? Did the neighbors declare Christmas war on each other?”

You laugh. “Yes, they did and I had to participate.”

You lead him in and you know, he can see your very, very low cut dress now and his hands reach out for your hips and he pulls you close, still on the porch. There’s a gentle kiss in your neck. Goosebumps all over. 

“You look breathtaking, baby.”

You shiver even more. 

“How am I supposed to have dinner, when you - the dessert - looks so delicious already?”

It’s hard to ignore he would devour you whole already and it’s not that you don’t want it too, but you haven’t prepared all of it only to be eaten when it’s already cold.

“You will have your dessert, Dean. But first, we have dinner, dessert…” you have to take a deep breath - “second dessert… repeatedly.”

He laughs and his voice is rough and gentle at the same time. 

So you sit together and you serve him stuffed turkey with brussel sprouts, several sauces to choose from and potatoes. You even prepared crème brûlée for dessert. Dean is careful with wine and you’re happy he remembers.

Dean praises your meals, that it’s delicious and he would eat even more but then he would explode. You laugh about that. No one wants him to burst, of course. 

Sitting on the couch, he pulls you close while you’re eating dessert. His hand’s on your naked back, gently rubbing. Sending you hot shivers all over and when you’re done with dessert, he kisses you, he tastes of vanilla, wine and a very subtle of his aftershave. He’s an excellent kisser and you could keep going on forever, but when he pulls away for an inch, his hands roaming your body, he whispers “I want you to be part of my family.”

And that’s probably the most romantic thing, Dean Winchester is able to say.

[leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid]

A very short preview of “Dirty Motel Sheets,” the fic I’m working on for @negans-lucille-tblr‘s @spnsecretsantaficexchange that’s due today but hopefully my person will forgive me for it being late. Life is a bitch. It will be posted on Christmas Day.

A hot breath caressed the curve of your ear, “do you want to join us tonight, Y/N? Stay the night and be filled for Christmas?”

[firefly-in-darkness]

Dream A Little Dream

Characters → Y/N & Dean Winchester.

Summary → Y/N has always daydreamed of Dean being more than a friend regardless of knowing she wasn’t his type. Is she going to be able to keep her feelings in check when they pretend to be a couple in their hunt for a witch?

Word Count → 2.9k

Warnings → 18+, a little bit of angst, low self-esteem, fluff. Sexy things. Happy ending.

Beta → @princessmisery666 & @daydream3r-xo // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → This is my Secret Santa fic for @spnsecretsantaficexchange & this story is being gifted to @waywardnerd67 who asked for a friends to lovers, only one bed & plus size reader fic - I hope you enjoy this lovely!

Masterlist

Dean Winchester: a man full of love for the world that didn’t appreciate him. He was a hunter, hero, and saviour. Not that he’d ever call himself anything like that, he was too modest. It was just the family business, saving people, hunting things. And Y/N was lucky, or not so lucky, to experience all of this with him. As his friend. 

Even if it pained Y/N to be near Dean; his charm, his sense of humour, his body, his warmth, all she wanted was to have him closer. Have them be skin to skin, holding onto another tightly in a lover’s embrace. All Y/N wanted was for him to hold her tight, to whisper that he loved her. But she realised, a long time ago, that Dean Winchester would never see her as anything other than a friend.

The sight of Dean flirting his way across the towns they visited, and the types of women he had fallen into bed with, made it clear that all they’d ever be was friends. He acted so candidly with these beautiful creatures and Y/N would never compare to them. Y/N didn’t look anything like the women he was interested in, she wasn’t his type in the slightest. Dean never looked at her with lust or directed that cheeky smirk her way.

Y/N had long ago settled for the relationship that they had, it had to be enough. She had to stop daydreaming about Dean and if there were more meaning to the way he pulled her into a shoulder hug after a successful hunt. The way he tended to the wounds across her body as if she was a delicate flower about to wilt at the feel of a heavy hand. Or how he’d kiss the top of her head as she drifted to sleep against his shoulder as he drove the Impala. 

Those were the most intimate moments, and it had her clutching to the idea of him being more than a fellow hunter and companion. Those sweet daydreams were enough to let all worries disappear and bring her hope. If only he dreamed a little dream of me.

In reality, Y/N would only be Dean’s friend, and that was final. She tucked away her feelings into the smallest part of her being, locked and hidden from everyone. Because, to have a small amount of love from Dean, even if platonic, was enough. 

Y/N had learnt to distract herself, to steer away from the daydreaming and getting lost in his beautiful eyes. She’d preoccupy herself with a game on her phone whenever Dean appeared looking dashing or when he’d stepped out of a steaming shower; his glistening torso and the loosely wrapped towel had been a long tormented situation until she learnt to avoid looking his way.

Coffee would be buzzing through her system so that she didn’t fall asleep unexpectedly against him and when injuries occurred, she began dealing with them on her own just to avoid his touch. It wasn’t so bad to do it by herself, she’d done it before. But, as much as Y/N tried to avoid Dean, it was inevitable that something would come to test her.

It came in the form of Dean’s idea of pretending to be a couple in a restaurant in the hope of catching the witch causing havoc in the small town in the middle of nowhere. Y/N told yourself over and over - ‘this isn’t real, we are just friends.’ But nothing prepared her for the moment she walked into the motel room. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind as they left Sam at the bunker and travelled across state lines for the next hunt. 

Y/N’s eyes blew wide at the sight before her. One bed. One fucking bed.

Dean was completely oblivious to the conflict that raged in Y/N’s head and went straight into the bathroom. At least it gave Y/N some privacy and a moment to breathe. But how could she when her mind swam with hundreds of thoughts all at once? It was like the gods were playing a cruel trick. How were they going to sleep in the same bed, together? And how could she possibly even sleep with him lying next to her? The running water of the shower did little to discourage the more intimate thoughts.

To quiet the voices in her head, she took a seat and looked through the little research that Dean had gathered. The distraction worked for a while, at least until he returned to the room in his loungewear and inspected the suit that Y/N had hung up neatly. She watched him with incredulous disbelief as he grabbed the remote for the television before he climbed onto the bed. 

Dean settled back on the mattress, flicked through the channels until he found something decent to watch and placed his arms at the back of his head. 

He turned his gaze to her, “are you going to just sit there or join me?”

Y/N frowned, “shouldn’t we ask for a different room and do some more research?”

Dean’s focus had already returned to the television, “this is the only room available. We haven’t got to do anything until this evening so just relax.”

Reasoning with herself that if Dean thought it was a problem then he’d say something, she took the spot beside him and lost herself in the drama unfolding on the small screen at the foot of the bed. It was the first time in a long time that she felt relaxed around the older Winchester, even if she was worried about sinking back into old habits.

The opaque garment bag was hooked to the back of the bathroom door, Y/N could see it in the corner of her eye as she readjusted the towel around her body and continued to finish her makeup in the small mirror. It felt like the dress was taunting her, it wasn’t something she’d usually wear, and it had made her feel self-conscious from the moment she pulled it out of the depths of the wardrobe back at the bunker.

The zip on the bag got stuck and almost caught the fabric of the navy dress inside but once it was out of the plastic cover, Y/N inspected it for any tears, but it all seemed to be okay. With the dress now on full display, she backed away and perched on the closed toilet seat. She was stepping into new territory and needed a moment to process it.

Y/N had worn the dress once before, about two years ago. She’d become stuck in her ways and used to the comfort of jeans or leggings paired with baggy tops. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the dress, it’s just that she knew that it would look and feel different compared to before.

What if it shows all my lumps and bumps? I’m going to look pathetic compared to Dean, will anyone believe that we are on a date? Doubt it.

A light knock on the door brought Y/N’s attention back to the reality of getting ready for their hunt and date. The towel was discarded to the floor and she pulled the dress over her head, hoping not to smudge her makeup.

Dean spoke, his voice muffled through the door panel, “we’ve got to go in ten minutes.”

“Just a minute,” Y/N replied and finished adjusting the thin straps and smoothed out the skirt of the mid-length dress.

With one final look in the mirror and a deep breath, she opened the bathroom door.

Y/N had never imagined this would be how the evening would go; sitting in a fine restaurant with Dean Winchester - he was the perfect date, even if it wasn’t a real one. She couldn’t help but wonder if this is what Dean was really like on a date. That Y/N might have caught a glimpse of what it would be like to get his attention.

After three glasses of wine and their delicious meal, the pair of them remained out of luck; there was no sign of the witch or potential victims. Dean paid for their dinner, even after Y/N’s protests to split the check.

The stroll back to the Impala was enough time for Y/N’s thoughts to turn negative. It was as if the second they walked out of the restaurant that reality came crashing down around her. It wasn’t a real date and it never would be because she was not Dean’s type. Y/N didn’t look like those women and she never would, no matter how she looked tonight. It’s not what Dean wanted.

Y/N sunk into the cold leather, it stung against her exposed skin; goosebumps rose across her flesh until the heavy material of Dean’s jack was draped over her. The action made Y/N flinch as she hadn’t realised how close Dean was until he was gone.

“Thank you,” was all she could muster, “and for tonight.”

He smiled softly, “you’re welcome.”

Dean pulled up outside the motel room but neither of them rushed to leave. Hope blossomed in Y/N’s heart, that just maybe Dean didn’t want this to end either. That thought bashed away all the negatives as he turned in his seat. His eyes roamed her face for a moment and a lopsided grin formed. His eyes crinkling at the corners in the way that Y/N adored.

His smile reminded her of the ones he’d given to many women over the years, but this one seemed different; there was a glint in his eyes that made Y/N question if those other smiles weren’t genuine. That this one was real.

“D’ya know it’s been over four years since we met.” He looked back out into the almost empty parking lot before Y/N could nod in response, “and guess what today is?”

Y/N looked at him in confusion, today was no different to any other day. Except, it would be forever etched in her heart as the day she almost went on a date with Dean Winchester and lived to tell the tale.

Dean continued to look out into the dark sky, the stars shining brightly above them, mixed in with the glow of the motel lights.

“It’s been a year since we took down that vampire nest in New Orleans,” Dean mentioned.

Vampires and New Orleans was a whirlwind hunt; one which left Y/N with severe injuries. Nothing was broken but the blow to her ribs had been enough for her to be winded and have heavy bruising for weeks. Y/N ended up on bed rest at the Bunker for at least a month before Sam and Dean allowed her to go on another hunt.

Dean sighed, his head rolling over to look at Y/N once more, “a year since I realised something.”

A shiver ran over her body from the way his voice dropped lower and could barely say more than a whisper as she got lost in his emerald gaze, “what was that?”

“That you mean a lot to me,” Dean responded, not a fleck of a waiver in his tone. 

In the dim light of the lamps, his hand nudged along the seat of Baby towards Y/N’s. At the sight of the intimate gesture, she slid her hand closer. Y/N’s body hummed with butterflies as his fingers laced over her own. This wasn’t a dream or a fantasy, this was real. 

Y/N glanced up to see Dean was already looking at her intently and that’s when she realised, she hadn’t said anything, “you mean a lot to me too Dean.”

A sigh fell from Dean’s plump lips before he leant forward and cupped her cheek with his other hand. Within a heartbeat, Dean’s face neared Y/N’s, eyes closing on instinct as she awaited his kiss.

Dean’s lips softly brushed against her own, a ghost of a kiss, then he pecked a little harder while his thumb caressed the apple of her cheek. Even though Y/N couldn’t believe this was happening, she wasn’t going to hold back any longer and as he pulled away, she gripped the back of his neck and pressed her mouth harder against him. 

Y/N poured every ounce of her feelings into it, shifting closer to him and running her hands through his short hair as his arm wrapped around her waist. A flicker of his tongue across her bottom lip and his hand stroking down her back sent a wave of pleasure to her aching core. 

A soft moan escaped Y/N’s mouth as he massaged the flesh of her ass, giving his tongue a chance to explore her further. The urgency of the kiss heightened as she shifted to straddle his lap but before she had a chance to move Dean pulled away, his hands settling on her biceps.

“I think we should slow down. Can we at least go inside?” Dean asked.

Her head fell back in laughter, and with a nod, Dean pulled Y/N out of the car and towards the motel room. As he fiddled with the lock, something dawned on her; why did he wait a year to tell her? The creaking of the door and the tug on his hand had her following behind.

“Now, where were we?” Dean pulled Y/N close to him, her hands resting against his broad chest.

“I think you were going to tell me why you waited so long to do anything?” She raised her brow at him and tapped his chest with her index finger.

Dean smirked and took a seat at the edge of the bed, patting his thigh for Y/N to join him. Y/N bit her lip and perched on Dean’s knee, arms wrapping around his neck while Dean held her close around the waist, one of his hands stroking her hip. The sensation was driving her wild, but she wanted to know why he hadn’t made a move before now.

“I did sweetheart,” Dean kept his focus on her eyes, “you responded to everything, I was going to do something about it once I knew for sure but then I noticed you had started hanging out with Sam or throwing yourself into research. I thought I’d read everything wrong and that’s when I thought that maybe you were pulling away.”

Y/N listened to every word, nodding for him to continue as her heart raced at his confession; all those moments were real. Not only had Dean been feeling the same way, but he’d also been daydreaming about her too.

“I honestly thought you felt the same way when you fell asleep next to me when we watched that show you like, erm-” Dean paused, his brow scrunching together.

Y/N could see the cogs ticking and chuckled because she knew exactly what he was talking about and wanted to see if he knew, give him the chance to win this moment.

“-Gossip Girl!” He grinned at his triumph, “yeah, you turned over and your hand grabbed mine. Well, it meant a lot.”

“And then you set this up?” Y/N asked with a slight smirk on her lips and a raised eyebrow.

Dean pulled back, his face blank at first, only for a blush to form across his freckled cheeks, “how did you know?”

Y/N’s hands tugged at his collar, loosening the tie, “well, for starters, you did the research.”

He rolled his eyes and then focused on Y/N once more as her fingers made light work of the buttons. Following her lead, he found the zipper at the back of the dress, tugging it down slowly. Excitement pooled in Y/N’s belly and her skin simmered with pleasure at his actions.

“Then, you didn’t want to snoop around the restaurant.” Y/N stood up, letting the dress drop to the ground. 

The confidence in her appearance grew tenfold as Dean’s eyes darkened at her matching lacy underwear and the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips. She stepped out of the dress and heels, dropping to her knees in front of Dean and unbuckled his belt.

“Not only that, but there are no other cars in the parking lot and a bright ‘vacancies’ sign outside.”

With her bottom lip brought between her teeth, she glanced up at Dean, “which means that you planned all of this.”

Y/N gripped the slacks at his hips and tugged them down, exposing the hard length that tented his boxers. She couldn’t help the way her mouth watered at the sight of him above her but before she could reach to pull down his boxers, Dean had gripped her arms and pulled her up to his level.

“Well done smarty-pants, now come here.”

Dean’s lips crashed to hers, a fever of pleasure and affection dripping from the kiss as they collapsed back onto the mattress. Their bodies tangled together, heat radiated from them both as they grasped at limbs and kissed without abandon.

That night, they started making up for the year that they had missed out on. The year that they’d both been too hesitant, lost in their daydreams instead of basking in the reality of their love.

Everything Tag List: @reann-loves-sebstan​ / @thefridgeismybestie​ / @kitkatd7​ / @harold321​

Supernatural Tag List:  @deanwanddamons​ / @akshi8278​

SPN Pond Tag List: @manawhaat @aprofoundbondwithdean @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @nichelle-my-belle-spn-con-blog @notnaturalanahi @deanscarlett @whispersandwhiskerburn @roxy-davenport @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @frenchybell @spn-fan-girl-173 @deandoesthingstome @deansleather @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @mrswhozeewhatsis @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles @wevegotworktodo @deantbh @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog @memariana91 @plaidstiel-wormstache @chelsea-winchester @becs-bunker @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobsessed @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @zombitch-inthemegacoven @maraisabellegrey-blog @faith-in-dean @winchestscanersmolder @clueless-gold @deanwinchesterxreader @winchester-family-buisness @there-must-be-a-lock @just-another-winchester @emoryhemsworth @cas-backwards-tie @sierra-grace1227 @flamewncaaaaaaaasodiva @kalesrebellion​ @emilyshurley​ @deanwanddamons @ellewritesfix05 @idreamofplaid @emptycanvasposts @kickingitwithkirk

[that-one-gay-girl]

Safe and Sound

Pairing: Dom!Reader x sub!Dean

Warnings: none

Word Count: 509

Summary: As a new day begins, Dean thinks back on his night with his Dom.

For: @wingedcatninja

A/N: This is for the @spnsecretsantaficexchange Thank you for hosting this @negans-lucille-tblr I really enjoyed the challenge of this. I hope you enjoy it! Happy Holidays!

Rolling onto his side, Dean moans softly as the affection he received last night still lingers. Opening his eyes, he comes face to face with his mistress. Smiling down at Dean, you brush back his bedhead. His freckles stand out in the soft morning glow of the room.

“Morning, baby.” gripping his chin, you press a chaste kiss to his soft lips.  “I’m going to go make your favorite breakfast. I want you to shower and get dressed. Be in the kitchen in 20 minutes.” Standing up, you walk out of the bedroom, whistling a happy tune.

Stretching his sore body, Dean sits up, the sheets falling off his naked body. Walking towards the bathroom, he grabs his special body wash from under the sink; the fresh-cut pine is your favorite scent, it always drove you wild, and Dean would do anything to please you.

Stepping into the steaming shower, Dean runs his hand through his hair, getting it wet. The warm water relaxes his tense muscles. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t sore. Standing under the spray of water for a while longer, Dean thinks about you, his partner, his Dom; you took such good care of him.

After taking care of Sam all his life, and his father never honestly acted like a father, when he found you and discovered you were a Dom, it brought sweet relief to Dean’s life. It was his turn to be taken care of, and you always made him feel safe.

You seemed to always know what he needed and when he needed it. Thinking back to last night, after you had given Dean the pegging of his life, giving him the release he needed, you gave him aftercare. Dean tried to seem tough on the outside, but you knew the real Dean, the Dean that liked to be wrapped in a giant fluffy blanket and held.

So that’s exactly what you gave him last night. After cleaning him up, you kissed him softly, bringing him back down to earth, waiting for those green eyes to open again. When they did, you grabbed his favorite blue fluffy blanket, wrapping it around him, holding the remote you turned on his favorite show, Scooby-Doo.

Reaching for the glass of juice on the bedside table, you help Dean take small sips and grab a cookie, letting him nibble on it as the show continues to play.

You brushed his hair out of his face, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as your body wrapped around his protectively, letting your sub know he was safe with you and nothing would hurt him.

“You did so good, baby boy,” you whisper into his ear, your arm running up and down his. “I’m so proud of you,” you praised. You began to feel Dean’s body relaxing, his lids falling heavily, fighting sleep as you laid behind him.

After a few minutes, his body relaxes fully, sleep pulling him under. Placing one last kiss to his head, you fall asleep, dreaming of your baby boy.

Bowlegged babes:

@akshi8278 @hobby27

Forever Babes:

@winchest09 @hobby27 @flamencodiva @donnaintx @polina-93

[cuddly-dean-baby]

The Winchesters’ Zombie Apocalypse

With a scavenge gone wrong, Dean has to do something he never thought he’d have to do.

Pairings: Dean x F!Reader x Sam Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader (you), Bobby Winchester (child), Garth, Dixon (dog - German Shepherd), Ellen (mentioned), Jo (mentioned), Jack (mentioned) Genre (smut, fluff, angst): Fluff, angst AU: Zombie Apocalypse Words: 2,050

This awesome idea was made by @negans-lucille-tblr  This is my entry for @spnsecretsantaficexchange​ ​  For my Secret Santa person, I have gotten @snapplejaxs​​ I hope you like it

Storming into the cabin, you angrily peel off your bloodied flannel to throw it against the backrest of a seat at the dining table. “Fucking idiots! I told you not to follow me into the store! I fucking had it.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me, Dean. I’m gonna go take a shower, then I’m gonna go out for a walk.” 

Doing as you said, you walk past your husbands and into your shared bedroom to grab a pair of clean clothes and into the bathroom. Your German Shepherd, Dixon, had followed you into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

“I feel like one of us should go with her on her walk, just to keep an eye on her.”

“She has Dixon, Sam.”

Nothing is said, silence filling the air except for the faint noise of the shower.

Footsteps are then made on the porch. Small, fast ones coming towards the door before it swings open to show a little boy. “Hey, Bobby,” greeted Sam as he bent down and picked up the four year old. “Papa.”

“Where’s Daddy?” Bobby points at Dean next to them, making the eldest Winchester smile and bump his nose against their son’s. One of his small, chubby hands rests against Dean’s stubbly cheek.

With the three not noticing, you’re leaning against the door frame and smiling at the scenery, wishing that you could snap a picture of them. “Hey, Garth,” your voice had given the Winchester brothers a fright, their eyes on you before looking at your best friend.

“Hey, guys. Thought I’d drop off a little someone.” He points at your son, who’s reaching out to you. “Thank you, Garth.” You take Bobby into your arms from Sam’s.

“Better get back to Bess and the kids, see you later.”

Saying goodbye to him, you turn back ‘round to your husbands. “I’m gonna go take a walk, wanna come? Obviously we’ll leave Bobby here, see if Ellen and Jo can look after him.” You nuzzle your nose against your son’s cheek before blowing a raspberry against it, making him squeal and flail his arms around, his hands now cupping your face.

“Hi, baby.” He starts to rub his nose against yours before stuffing his face against your neck. 

Both my babies, Dean had thought to himself, smiling at his wife and son.

Walking through an abandoned town, Dixon by your side, the brothers are trailing behind you. Dean has been kicking a can since you have entered the town. Then Dixon gets into an attack position, having you three raise your guns.

“Split up.”

“What?” Sam and Dean ask in unison.

“Do it.”

Groans and moans fill the air, rotted bodies shuffled into view. “(Y/N)!” Dean tries to go after you, but Sam grabs his arm to pull him back. They watch you run in front of the herd. It got closer with gunshots going off, the idea of the herd getting you makes Sam scared.

“Come on.” Dean pulls at his arm to have them walk into a store to hide.

Feeling his chest tighten and his breathing quicken, Sam tries to calm himself down. Sometimes Dean was able to help him through his panic attacks, taking longer than you, but you were the one that was able to stop them and comfort and calm the youngest Winchester.

“D-Dean,” he managed to breathe out. Dean is immediately in front of him, reassuring him that you’re gonna be fine. “I-I can’t b-breathe.”

Dean instructs him to try and slow his breathing. “She’s out there on her own and for all we know she could be dead as it seems like she used all her bullets,” Sam started to ramble and continued to do it before he got cut off by his older brother’s arms wrapping around him and bringing him in for a hug.

“She’ll be okay.”

Hours have passed to have the sky darkened and the brothers had gone to the spot where you had fired your gun. Small dots of blood trailed off in front of them with a piece of your shirt ripped on the ground.

“We gotta go back home.”

Bobby is seated in Sam’s lap, head on his chest and Sam’s arms wrapped around the small body of his son. “Where’s Mama and Dixon?” He looks up at Sam, one eye green and the other hazel.

“Mama and Dixon are still out, they’ll be here soon.” Sam answers, hoping that it’s true and that soon enough, you’ll be home.

Barking towards the cabin, Bobby is the first to swing the door open and run across the porch, down the steps and towards where he heard the barks. His fathers are right behind him.

Bobby starts to pet Dixon, Sam standing with them. Dean had stopped in front of them, trying to find you.

Luckily, no one really had thought much of the barking as they were kinda used to it. But if it was constant and no one was able to stop them, then that’s a sign for something dangerous.

Dean had finally spotted you limping towards the four, himself running to you and bringing your blood-stained body against his, himself not caring about the crimson liquid staining his clothes.

“Mama!” Bobby runs towards you, Sam fast-walking to you to do the same thing Dean had done.

“We were so fucking worried, we were about to have a search party for you, sweetie,” Sam leans his forehead against yours.

“You had a panic attack,” is the first thing you said, despite what Sam just said. “Dean calmed me down.”

Once back inside the cabin, you’re in the bathroom. You’re now staring at your naked form in the mirror, your eyes looking back and forth at the bite on shoulder and one on your hip.

Whines and scratches fill the air. You open the door a bit to let the dog in and shut the door behind him before you settle yourself on the toilet lid. “How am I going to tell them, boy?” You chuckle out sadly, trying to lighten up the moment. Dixon rests his chin on your leg, his brown eyes giving you a soft look. “You look after that little boy, you hear me?” You rub one of his ears between your fingers.

“Time for bed, Mama,” Bobby knocks at the door. “Let’s go, Mama.” Dean’s voice repeats.

Getting changed after covering the wounds, you run your hand through your semi-dried hair and out of the bathroom you are.

Standing in the doorway of the lounge and hallway, your heart is beating faster a bit more and your hands are softly shaking.

“Are you okay, honey?” asks Dean, seeing that you’re nervous about something. “I got bit,” you blurted out. “Let me put Monkey to bed.” Sam picked Bobby up and down the hallway to his room.

“Please say something, baby,” you walk towards Dean. Tears started to prick his eyes, some slipping and dropping onto the floor.

“You’re looking so pale,” he chuckles out with a sob. Smiling and sighing out, your arms slither around his waist, his arms wrapped over your shoulders. Your head rests against his chest, hearing his heartbeat. “I want you to do it. I can’t do it myself, I’ll hesitate. Sam will have a panic attack if he does it, so please,” you look at him with tears brimmed in your eyes, “kill me.”

He presses his lips against your forehead, his eyes closed and tears gently flowing down his cheeks. “Go say goodbye to our baby,” he mumbled against your skin.

Doing so, you gently knock against Bobby’s door before opening it, seeing your other husband and your son sitting on his bed. You kneel in front of him, hands on each side of his legs. Sam intertwines his with your closest hand. 

“Mama is really sick. Daddy is going to take care of me.”

“Are you going to get better?”

Sniffing and wiping your nose with your free hand, you answer, “He’s going to have to kill me, baby. If he doesn’t, then I’m gonna get turned into one of those monsters.”

Bobby jumps into your arms, your body thumping against your butt. “Mama loves you, always.” You lean your cheek against the top of his head, tears flowing down your cheeks.

Small knocks grab your attention, making the three of you look at Dean. You stand up with Bobby clinging to your body.

“I’ve told Ellen, Jo and Jack. They’re gonna tell the people.”

Going out to the lounge, Bobby is still clinging to your body. Sam is trailing behind, tears welled up in his eyes.

Setting Bobby on the ground, his hands are gripped into your shirt. “Bobby,” your voice cracks. His hands loosened and letting go of the fabric, his arms now wrapped around your legs.

“You’re gonna be okay.” You cupped Sam’s face, his tears wetting your hands. He brings your body against his, his head resting against your non-injured shoulder. “Sam.” Feeling something wet against his skin and shirt, he looks to see blood dribbling down the side of your mouth and down your chin.

Pulling his sleeve down, he wipes it away, not caring about the crimson liquid staining it. He then tugs your shirt collar back to see the covered bite mark. Your veins have darkened within under the bandage, the ends of the darkened veins stopping underneath your jawline.

“I’m gonna do this now,” you say softly, Sam pressing a kiss to your forehead. You bend down to peel your son away from your leg to hand him over to Sam, but he quickly wrapped his arms around your neck. “Bobby,” your cracked voice comes out as a soft stern. Sam’s hands grab a hold of Bobby’s waist to have you unclasped his hands.

“Mama!” His small hands reach out to you. His head gets tucked away into Sam’s neck, his big hand covering the child’s head. With a last kiss on the lips of your tall husband and a kiss to your son’s head, you shuffle towards Dean.

“I hope you’re ready, pretty girl, ‘cause I’m not,” Dean chuckles out dryly. Cupping his stubbly cheeks, you give him a kiss on his lips. One of your hands then go down to his gun holster to pull the weapon out and make his fingers curl around the handle.

All four of you have tears flowing down your cheeks. Dixon whines and rubs his head against your leg.

Dean wraps his weapon-free arm around your middle, your head now resting against his shoulder. “I have letters for each of you in my backpack. Read them when I’m buried,” you mumble.

“O-Okay.” Dean manages to get out with a shaky voice. You bring his hand up to your head, the barrel of his gun pressed against your temple. “I’m ready now.”

With his hand now shaking and his finger on the trigger, he presses it harder to release a bullet into your head and body going limp against his body. Blood has scattered across the floor and some on his shoulder.

He falls to the ground to wrap both arms around your body to sob against your shoulder.

Bobby had been struggling against Sam’s hold and been scream-crying since the gunshot went off. “Bobby.” Sam shifts the small boy in his arms to hold him as if he’s holding a rugby ball, tucked in his arm. “No! I want Mama!” Bobby screams into Sam’s chest whilst pushing against it.

Sam sits at the bottom of your grave, playing with some of the dirt as Dean, Bobby and Dixon are running around, Dean chasing his baby boy. 

“Dean and I read your letters a few days after you died. We’re gonna have Bobby read his when he’s a little bit older. Can’t believe it’s already been two months without you.”

“Papa! Come play with us.” Bobby yells at him whilst running and bumping against Sam’s back. He starts to climb Sam like a jungle gym. “I gotta go. Say goodbye to Mama.” Sam stands up, taking one of Bobby’s small hands into his.

“Bye, Mama. I love you.” Bobby waves at your grave before him and Sam walk towards Dean, who has a gentle smile on his face.

“I love you, too, (Y/N).” He mumbles to himself.