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𐙚⋆. Winchester!reader..









‘I don’t wanna go, think i’ll make it worse, everywhere I go leads me back to you..’
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➤ Winchester!reader who is the middle child of Winchester siblings, being two years younger than Dean and two years older than Sam.
➤ Winchester!reader who is Johns only daughter, which was a curse and a blessing at the same time. It was clear to all Winchester siblings that their father was always more drawn and kinder to his only daughter, but that only served to be difficult in the long run when he refused to let her live a life of her own, claiming it was too dangerous for a girl.
➤ Winchester!reader who has been through hell and back for her brothers (figuratively and literally) claims in fits of frustration and during arguments that her life would have been better if she stayed out of hunting and away from them, but no matter what happened, she ended up back with them, the people she loved most.
➤ Winchester!reader who is the most independent of her siblings. She can handle herself alone as well as she can with others, determined by the knowledge that if she didn’t push through it, Sam or Dean might not make it.
➤ Winchester!reader who everyone knows is completely off limits, made clear by herself and her brothers. Other hunters that know the Winchester family know that she is all for looking, not touching. If anyone dared to, it wouldn’t end well for them.
➤ Winchester!reader that left to live a normal life like Sam, but also like her younger brother, she was dragged back in by her older brother, staying loyal to her family above all, albeit reluctantly at first.
➤ Winchester!reader who effortlessly gets along with everyone, having that natural social charm that very often came in handy when trying to get information while working cases.
➤ Winchester!reader who is so like her mother that sometimes it physically pains Dean and John to look her in the eyes, because all they see is a reflection of the woman they lost. But despite the fact it brings Dean pain, it also brings him and Sam comfort. There has been a fair share of times where they were sick or so badly injured that she acted as their mother rather than their sister, healing that part of childhood that they missed out on.
➤ Winchester!reader who’s love language is acts of service and gift giving, and only sometimes physical touch with people she trusts with her whole heart. Growing up with a father who rarely even glanced twice at his kids taught her that love wasn’t shown through hugs and hand holding, until Sammy had started to cling to her in the back of the Impala when he was tired.
Winchester!reader fics coming soon..
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Is that end note a promise?!? Begging. This was so cute I can’t.
“As if you’ve asked him to slay a dragon” these are my fav interactions and just so DEAN in my eyes - you write him so beautifully 💖💖
Just Too Soft - A Babylon the Great Bonus Chapter
Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist
Author's Note: Request from my love @theoneandonlyplaylistanon! Sorry about everything I've put y'all through. Have some fluff. enjoy!
Chapter title from Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift.
Word Count: 1.8k
Chapter Summary/Warnings: You get your period. Takes place a little bit before Chapter 27. Usual warnings.
Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, angst, fluff
Read on A03!
Dean’s home.
You can hear him and Sam, clambering around downstairs. He’s shouting something about how the monster stole his pie, and Sam wouldn’t let them stop for more on the way back.
You’d tell him there was pie in the fridge—the cheap roadside kind he loves so much that you picked up on the drive back from the library—if that didn’t require getting out of bed.
And right now, you’d rather fucking die.
Everything hurts. Every nerve in your body is wired and sensitive, it feels like you’re burning yourself up from the inside, and your uterus can’t decide if it’s trying to strangle itself, or come out through your throat. You’ve tossed all the sheets off your bed ten times, stolen Sam’s laptop, shouted at Cas about Enochian translations, and dodged all of Dean’s calls because you might start crying if you hear his voice. Bobby knows better than to try and talk to you right now—taking one look at you this morning and telling you he’d go out for more candy and Advil, before hiding in his office for the rest of the day—but Sam kept fucking texting you, and you’d decided to try and hide before you threw your phone though his face.
Periods fucking suck. It sucks that it hurts, it sucks that you have to do things while it hurts, and then it sucks that you can’t do them as well as normal because it hurts. All your translations were wrong. You almost punched Cas after he tried to tell you that it wasn’t reasonable to kill someone annoying to find Death, and you miss Dean.
You always miss him. But now you’re in pain and miss him, and he might be mad at you for avoiding his calls, and this was supposed to be a two-day hunt, but they were gone for three. Maybe he met someone. The extra night was spent with a normal, sweet girl, and he’s coming back to tell you that he’s leaving to be with her-
Dean mutters your name as he opens the door, and you glare at him over the laptop.
He shouldn’t be so pretty all the time. It’s not fair.
“You alright?” He glanced around the room, frowning slightly. “Shit, did you get in a fight with the bedsheets?”
“Yes.” You grumble, looking back to the screen. Looking at Dean isn’t productive. You’ll get lost in him, and it will show on your face that you love him. “I won.”
“Right. Course you did.” He steps over the comforter, moving closer to the mattress. That’s not good. He’s going to be in touching distance. “You, uh- You need any medical attention? From the bedsheet fight?”
“No.”
“Okay. Have you been in bed all day?”
“No.”
Dean sighs, and he’s braced slightly, in your periphery.
When you glance over, he looks sad.
You’re being a bitch. You’re not talking to him and you’re being a bitch, and he didn’t run away with some girl in a bar, and you don’t want him to walk away-
“I’m on my period.” You blurt, and he freezes.
“Oh. Okie dokie.” Dean swallows, and you can see a little pink in his ears. “Do you, uh- You want me to leave you alone-“
“No.” You curl a little deeper into the sheets, trying to keep your gaze fixed on the screen, even though you’ve lost the plot of the movie since you heard him downstairs.
“So-“
“I just feel like shit,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around your stomach. “I’m tired, it’s too hot and too cold, and I’m hungry but I don’t want to ear, and it fucking hurts.” You shoot him a sharp glare. “You’re lucky, with your stupid balls.”
Dean’s lip twitch. “Yeah, I sorta feel the same way. Can I- Um, I can help, sweetheart.” He rubs the back of his neck, giving you a sheepish grin. “If you want.”
You’ve survived almost two decades of periods by yourself, without Dean there to help you. One’s far worse than this, on motel floors, with a very nervous looking Bobby holding your hand in the grocery store, trying to figure out how tampon buying worked, or trying to figure out what was the pain of the darkness and what was the pain in your body. You don’t need anyone to help you with this, or coddle you through it.
But Dean coddling you sounds so fucking nice.
“I want chocolate.” You give him a tight glare, trying to mask your desperation that he means it. That he’d actually give up his day to help you with this. “And something warm, for the cramps. Please.”
“Chocolate.” Dean nods slowly, repeating it back. “Warm stuff. Yeah, uh- Yeah. I can find that for you, just- Don’t move.”
He gives you a wide, winning grin, turns to leave, then whips back around and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.
His fingers linger, tangled in your hair. And it’s hard to keep looking grumpy when your eyes can’t stop fluttering slightly, and Dean’s holding your face so tenderly between his hands.
“I can help you, Princess.” He says, determination in his voice as if you’ve asked him to slay a dragon. “I’ll be back soon.”
You hum, watch him grab a bunch of his shirts out the dresser—and you’re not staring at his back muscles, but he can’t see you so it doesn’t matter—and maybe you’re just losing your mind, but Dean’s back faster than should probably be possible. Marching into your room with the same shirts in his arms, a bowl of chocolate ice cream very precariously in one hand, and a box of candy under his chin.
“Ran these through the drier.” He drops the shirts at the mattress, near your feet. “Made, uh, this one,” he holds up one near the bottom. “Damp, cause Sammy said that would help. And,” he passes you the ice cream, and countless other boxes of candy that had been hidden in the shirts. “Everything we had.”
You blink at him, then back to the candy on the bed and the ice cream in your hands. He got it. He got more than you asked for, with no reward at all.
“Thank you,” you whisper, and he puffs out his chest with a grin.
“No problem. You- Uh, this what you needed?”
“Yeah.” You grab one of his shirts, giving him a small smile. “It’s perfect, De. Thank you.”
He nods, still grinning, and you take a long, deep breath. It can’t hurt to ask. The worst he’ll say is no—which you won’t cry about, because you’re a grown woman, and you love him, but he doesn’t have to feel anything back—and you don’t think he will. He already did all of this. And all you have to do is stop chewing on your lips and ask-
“I’m gonna go change.” You mumble, staring down at his shirt. It’s covered in his Gold, and still smells like cinnamon and grass, and if he says no at least you’ll have that. “Can you please- Wait for me?”
Dean nods, taking the ice cream as you shuffle to your feet. He’s still there when you get back, drowning in his shirt and hugging yourself as you make your way back to bed. He’s barely moved an inch from where you left him, only looking over his shoulder to watch the movie.
“What’s happening in here?” He says, passing you the ice cream without looking away.
“She’s in law school.” You move the ice cream to your side table, tugging the damp shirt from under his arm. “And likes pink.”
“Huh.” Dean shrugs, turning back to you as he speaks. “Is there- I can help with other things, if you-“
He cuts himself off as his nose nearly bumps with yours, and you didn’t realize how close you were standing to him. Dean’s eyes are wide on yours, his hand suddenly resting on your hip as you stare at each other.
You just have to ask it. He’s right here, and not moving away, so you just have to-
“Can you sit with me?” You whisper, daring to lean forward until your chin is on his chest. “Plea-“
“Yeah.” Dean’s words are quick, and he shakes his head slightly. “I- Sure. You want me to grab you somethin’ else, or just sit. Cause I can do either-“
“Just sit.” You take his free hand carefully, giving him a small smile that he returns with a squeeze of your hand.
Checking in.
You squeeze it back, three times. Everything is good, and I love you.
He won’t hear you say it. But it’s moments like these—when your head is on his chest and you’re in his arms as if it’s nothing at all—that you hope he can at least feel it. How important he is to you, how much you need him, that you loving him is as natural as water flowing down river or a flower blooming from the concrete.
His head is rested over yours. He keeps trying to pretend he doesn’t like the movie—you restarted, so he could watch it the whole way through—but he’s snorting and glaring at the screen when something bad happens. It’s about an hour in that he starts talking to the screen, and you have to muffle your giggle in his body.
He replaces your ice cream with some of the candy, when you finish. Only leaves the bed to get you more water, and pulls you right back into his arms the moment he’s done.
And you feel safe.
Not lying on the floor or shoving yourself through the world, trying to take advantage of the way your period makes the Silver dormant.
Just safe. In Dean’s arms.
“Dean?” You mumble, some time after the sun has set. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re-“
“I was being a bitch. I didn’t mean to-“
“Hey.” He cups your cheek, turning your face towards his carefully. “I know. You don’t gotta be sorry, Princess.”
“But I ignored your calls-“
“Yeah, and Bobby told me you weren’t feeling great.”
You blink. “He did?”
“Yeah.” Dean shrugs, holding your gaze. “If I thought you were in danger, Princess, I would’ve high tailed it back, hunt or not.”
“But-“
He drawls your name. “You’ve been a lot meaner to me. And I-“ He coughs, tensing slightly and looking back to the screen. “I don’t mind it. You’re always bossy. Now you got a reason for it. Whatever you need right now, I’m here.”
You hum, curling back into his body with a smile. You could keep arguing with him, but you’re a little too tired to try.
And he’s here.
Dean’s taking care of you, holding you in his arms, and here.
End Note: They're so cute. And one day. Dean's gonna fuck her on her period.
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Yes, this is the man covered in blood I like. More please.
"So I guess I gotta buy you that drink." ↳ 2.03 - BLOODLUST
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god BLESS whoever took these photos i'm praying for you tonight dawg🙏🙏
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POV: dean patches you up after an accident during a hunt
⟢ ⋆ ─────── ⋆ ʚ ⛥ ɞ ⋆ ─────── ⋆ ⟢
“ah-” you hissed and flinched slightly at the burn of dean putting the antiseptic on your skin, he looked up to notice you biting back your whimpers.
“m’sorry sweetheart” he spoke softly, blowing gently on your wound to sooth the sting. “i’m nearly done i promise, you’re doing so well” he comforted you as he tried to quickly finish patching your hand up with minimal pressure to the wound.
a weak smile curving his lips, “there you go” he said before lifting your hand up to his lips and giving you a feather-light kiss on your knuckles. “all done”
⟢ ⋆ ─────── ⋆ ʚ ⛥ ɞ ⋆ ─────── ⋆ ⟢
julia yaps: my first moodboard post yayyyy! let me know if you like it! and maybe what other scenarios you’d like to see <3 muah
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he's actually so pretty i feel nauseous. get him out of my sight.
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sammy being rough with you but talking all sweet and gentle the whole time 🥀🙏
sam winchester is the kind of man who makes you feel worshipped even while he’s fucking you senseless.
you’re face-down in the pillows, thighs trembling, soaked and overstimulated—and he’s still fucking you like it’s the first thrust. deep, deliberate, slow enough to make you feel every inch of him but hard enough to make you gasp with each punishing thrust.
you sob into the sheets, hips bucking against his grip. sam leans over you, voice smooth and honeyed, whispering like he’s cherishing every second of your surrender.
“shh, sweetheart. you’re doin’ so good for me,” he murmurs, brushing the sweat-soaked hair off your face. “taking it like my perfect girl, aren’t you?”
his cock drags over that spot inside you again and your body arches, breath hitching, every inch of you begging for more.
“hurts,” you whimper, but your body moves instinctively, pressing back against him. wanting more. needing more.
he kisses your shoulder, the touch soft but his hands gripping you hard enough to leave marks. “i know, baby. i know it’s a lot. but you’re makin’ me so proud.”
he pulls out almost all the way before slamming back in—your breath catching as the air leaves your lungs, and you cry out, broken and undone.
“you want me to stop?” he asks softly, thumb tracing your clit in slow circles, a teasing reminder of his control.
“n-no—please don’t,” you choke out, tears mixing with the pleasure.
he presses his lips to your temple, his smile gentle and possessive.
“that’s my girl.”
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LMFAO ME
dean *super sad, almost has tears in his eyes*: and dad looked at me different after that. I don't blame him—
me: purple dog shirt! purple dog shirt! purple dog shirt! purple dog shirt! purple dog shirt! purple dog shirt! purple dog shirt! sam winchester in the purple dog shirt!
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just close enough 𐙚 dean winchester
dean winchester x gn!reader
tags and warnings: another dean drabble. fluff, angst, unspoken romance, TOUCH STARVED!DEAN (my baby) dean feeling undeserving, you feeling otherwise.
summary: cleaning up dean after a hunt leads to a side of him you had never experienced before.
The motel room reeked of antiseptic and exhaustion.
A pale bulb swung from the ceiling, casting its weak light over the cracked linoleum floor and a man who refused to sit still.
"Dean," you warned, clutching the first aid kit in one hand and a damp cloth in the other. "Stop moving."
"I'm fine," he muttered, jaw tight as his green eyes darted anywhere but at you. Blood streaked his cheek, smeared and half-dried, blending into the stubble along his jaw. Neither of you sure if it was his or someone else's.
"You're not fine," you snapped, more forcefully than you'd intended. You softened your tone, getting closer. "Just let me help, okay?"
"I've had worse, this'll heal on its own." He smirked, but held a weariness in his eyes.
"Yeah? And what's your plan for the dried blood? Gonna wear it like a badge of honor?" You fire back.
He huffed a laugh, but when you reached out, he didn't pull away. Instead, he let you stand between his knees, close enough to feel the heat of him, close enough to notice the way his breath hitched as your fingers brushed his chin.
"Hold still," your murmured, your voice softening as you tilted his head towards the light.
Dean's gaze flicked up to you, and you could feel the intensity of his eyes even though you focused on cleaning the blood from his face. His expression was unguarded, vulnerable in a way he rarely let himself be.
"You're gonna fuss over me no matter what I say, huh?" he asked, his tone more fond than exasperated.
"Pretty much," you said lightly, dabbing at the dried streak. "You should be used to it by now."
He chuckled under his breath, the sound low and warm. He was comfortable. "Yeah, I guess I should."
You worked quietly, your touch gentle as you cleaned the wound on his cheek. Every so often, your fingers would graze his skin, and you felt him tense. Not from pain though, from something else entirely.
"There," you said, stepping back to admire your work. "Good as new. Well... almost."
Dean's lips quirked into a small smile. "Thanks, Doc."
"Don't get use to it." You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the grin tugging at your own lips.
"Too late," he said, his voice softer now.
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, the world outside the dingy motel room didn't exist. It was just the two of you, too close, sharing something unspoken.
"You should rest," you said, breaking the moment but not moving away.
Dean tilted his head, looking upwards to you still, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "What, you gonna tuck me in too?"
You swatted his arm lightly, laughing. "Don't push your luck."
But as you turned away from him, you heard him mutter, almost to himself. "I wouldn't mind if you did."
Your heart skipped a beat, and by the time you went to look back at him, his hand had gently wrapped itself around your wrist pulling you close to him.
You stood there, hovering above him, his arms snaking itself around your waist while the side of his head rested against your stomach. His breathing evened out, the tension in his frame finally began to dissipate.
Watching him from above, your chest ached in the best possible way. Though you didn't say it, you knew you'd stay right here, as long as he'd let you.
He nestled into you further, now one of your hands ran through his brunette head of hair, aimlessly.
"You don't have to do this," he said gruffly. His voice was low, laced with something unsaid.
"Yes, I do." You replied soft and gentle but full of intention like the embrace he had you in. "You never take care of yourself. Someone has to."
His arms tightened around you.
"You shouldn't have to," he murmured after a beat, so quiet you almost missed it. Almost.
"What does that mean?" You pause, your breath hitching. He looked up at you, his hands on both sides of your figure now. Your eyes locked with his finally.
"It means," he shook his head, exhaling sharply through his nose. "It means I don't deserve it. Any of it. This."
Your chest tightened in protest. "Dean."
"Don't," he said, a note of desperation breaking through his usual bravado. "Don't make this harder than it already is."
Your heart stuttered, torn between his pain and your own. You wanted to reach for him, to smooth the lines of worry etched into his face, to tell him he was wrong. But you couldn't, not with the way his walls shot up the second you got too close.
"Why do you do this?" he asked suddenly, voice hoarse.
"Do what?"
"Care," he said simply.
"Because I do."
He didn't look away this time, and it was almost unbearable, the intensity of his gaze. "You shouldn't."
"And yet, here I am." You replied softly, a single hand of yours gently touched the side of his face. His eyes fixated on you, longing for you as your gaze lingered.
"Thank you." His lips twitched, almost a smile. He didn't let you go however, he pulled you back in. The two of you stayed like this for longer than you could remember, but for him you'd stay like this forever. Just close enough to him.
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Nauseous with the rush of emotions I’m getting on Dean’s behalf rn.
dean’s a bit of a pool shark and also a bit of a gambler. it doesn’t really show it all the time, but it’s definitely implied that there are poker games and pool matches that they can win some money on. and who knows? dean’s a promiscuous kind of guy. who knows how he drums up the funds that they use? - JENSEN ACKLES, TV WEEK 2008
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𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝘁𝗲 ❦
wc: 2.5k
summary: dean calls you for help to find his dad, and to help steal sam away from college
warnings: cursing, heavy makeout, smut (mdni), fingering, no p-in-v, use of y/n
when dean visits you, it’s late at night. there’s something off about him, you notice, when you open the door. he doesn’t have that usual smirk that he greets you with, and there’s a tension in his shoulders. “dean? what’s wrong?” you questioned. his eyes meet yours and you notice that they’re dim, and judging by the eyebags he has, you can only assume he’s barely slept. “can i come in?” he asks. you nod and allow him in, watching as he enters the living room. you’re thankful that bobby’s out of town, or else he would’ve woken up to the sound of dean’s heavy footsteps pacing back and forth. you shut the door and turn your attention to dean. “what’s wrong?” you repeat. “it’s not sam is it?”
the mention of his baby brother makes dean stop in his tracks. “huh? no, it’s not. it’s, uh, it’s my dad. he went on a hunting trip and he hasn’t been home in a few days.”
and as much as you despise john winchester, you can’t help but feel bad for dean. he was the closest person you had to a best friend, besides sam. “but, that’s john, no? he leaves and doesn’t come back for a little bit. sam’s told me.”
dean shakes his head and flops down onto the old couch. “i know that, y/n. but this… this is different. he won’t answer any calls or texts. i don’t know what to do, and i can’t search for him alone. bobby’s out of town, sam’s in college, and he won’t listen to me unless i bring you along with me.”
you knew what he meant by that. when sam left for college, he got into an argument with john. and by default, sam stopped talking to dean, as well. meaning it’s been at least two years since the once inseparable brother duo had spoken to one another.
“y/n… please. you know i hate asking for help, but i really need you and sam.”
you couldn't even find it in yourself to try and argue with him. fights and arguments were never your strong suit. “fine,” you sighed. “lemme just pack a small bag, okay?” for the first time in a while, dean almost has a look of something like relief on his face. he walks over to you and holds your arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “you're a peach, y/n. i’ll be in the car.”
he walks out the door before you can respond, leaving you in the living room as you fully realize what you've just agreed to. it had been years since you travelled, let alone out of the state. you were content in this house, it made you feel safe and protected. something you never felt when living on the road. and maybe it wouldn’t take long. maybe it would only take a few days, a week at most. however, you've learned that nothing comes easy when dealing with john winchester. but you couldn't back out. not now. not when dean needs you. and especially not when sam needs you. even though he didn't say it much, you knew he still cared for his dad. and you would do everything in your power to help with the search.
so you packed a duffle bag full of clothes, a few books, and your blade. before you left, you wrote a note for bobby and stuck it on the fridge, making sure he would see it.
i left with dean to get sam from college. they need help in finding john. i’ll be back soon, and i’ll be safe, i promise. love you - y/n
you took one last look at your home, before shutting and locking the door behind you. dean was waiting in the car for you, and told you to just throw your bag in the backseat. you sat beside him in the passenger seat, looking out the window as he began to drive away. he looked at you from the corner of his eye, taking notice of you picking at your nails.
“you okay, y/n?” he asked softly.
you nodded jerkily. “uh, yeah. yeah, i’m okay. i just haven’t been on the road in a while, that's all.”
“nothing’s gonna happen to you, i promise. like, seriously. i think sam would actually kill me if you got hurt under my watch.”
you laughed softly. “he definitely would.”
dean turned on the radio and type o negative began to play softly. you looked over at dean, expecting him to change it, only for him to turn it up. “you like them?”
he shrugged. “eh, it's okay. i got used to how many times sammy would play it. don’t know why, he’s always been a nirvana and radiohead kid.”
he couldn’t see the smile that grew on your face when he said that, as you turned to look out the window again sam was a radiohead kid, until you had showed him type o negative.
ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ ʚଓ་༘࿐
convincing sam to leave college for the weekend was a lot easier than you thought it would be. perhaps dean was right. the second you looked at sam with those soft eyes of yours, promising that he’d be back in time for his interview, he instantly folded. just like with you, dean waited in the car, while you helped sam pack a to go bag. well, it was more like he was packing and you sat idly by, watching him.
it had been only a month since you last saw him, yet it felt like forever. he continued to grow his hair out after you helped him trim it, and he now had a slight middle part with bangs. it was a great look for him, you have to admit. “you're staring,” he states, looking down at where you're sitting on his bed.
you shrug. “i can’t admire my handsome boyfriend?”
he laughs at your words, and finishes his packing, moving to where you sit. his large hands find their place on your hips. “i didn't say that, pretty girl, just making an observation.” his voice drops low. “i missed you.”
“i missed you too, baby.”
he leans down, pressing his lips against yours. the kiss starts off sweet and slow, but when your hands wander up and into his shirt, it deepens. he grabs the underside of your legs and lifts you up, and you wrap your thighs around his waist. he pulls away from the kiss to breathe, before diving back in. your hips grind down onto his, and his hips buck up to meet yours. he swallows the moan that you let out when his bulge presses against your core. the two of you get interrupted when dean honks twice on the horn, hurrying you both up.
sam breaks the kiss with an annoyed groan, gently letting you go to stand up. “damn it, dean…” sam sighed, rubbing at his temple.
you giggle and stand on your tiptoes to press a kiss to sam’s cheek. “i’ll go wait in the car, baby. love you.”
he watches you head towards the door, and you turn around. “don’t forget to take care of your little… problem.”
he playfully rolls his eyes and waves you off. “yeah, yeah. i love you too.”
ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ ʚଓ་༘࿐
while looking for john, the three of you get involved in a case that he was previously working on before vanishing. it was a common occurrence in the town, apparently. there were stories of a woman in white who would be seen on the same stretch of road, asking for entrance into a man’s car, only for the man to never be seen again.
“it’s actually known in a lot of states and countries. its true origin is unknown, but it’s most known in mexico. la llorna, or “the weeping woman”, she’s usually a ghostly figure dressed in a white dress. always crying and searching for her children that she drowned,” you explained to the brothers.
dean looks almost shocked that you knew all this, whereas sam has nothing but pride written on his face. “wait. so she drowned her kids? or they accidently drowned?” dean questioned.
“there’s a lot of speculation about it, and i don’t believe anyone really knows. in the original legend, she drowns her kids in a fit of rage after finding out her husband has cheated on her. others say they were just young, and she left them alone in the tub. it really depends.”
dean mutters a small ‘jesus’, and sam is already walking towards where his computer lies on the motel bed. “i’ll start looking into the local town obituaries then and see if it mentions anything similar,” he announces. “thanks, pretty girl.” he kisses the top of your head proudly, making you smile.
the boys quickly find the woman’s old house, leaving you to stay at the motel. “i just don’t want you getting hurt, bug. and i’ll be safe, i promise,” sam tells you, before kissing you ‘goodbye’. like a dog, you sit by the motel window, waiting for his return. after nearly an hour of doing so, is when you drag yourself to the bed, and sleep comes quickly after you lie your head down. dean and sam come back safely shortly after, with dean retreating to the motel room right next to yours and sam’s. he notices your sleeping form on the bed, quietly dressing down to his boxers and shirt, lying down beside you. “shh, it’s just me, bug. you’re okay,” he whispers when you stir.
you roll over to look at him, sleepily smiling. “hey, baby. everything went fine?”
he nodded, rubbing your arm. “yeah, yeah, it did. thanks to you.”
you shyly shrug your shoulders. “i’m sure you would’ve found it out too, my smart boy.” he blushes at the nickname and hides his face in the junction of your shoulder. he begins to leave a trail of kisses down your neck, making you squirm. your still slightly hot and bothered from when the two of you got interrupted by dean the day before last, and sam can sense it. he changes his position to hover over you, continuing his attack on your skin. he bites down on your exposed skin just below your collarbone so it’s not visible. he licks at it to soothe the sting, causing you to lightly moan. your hips buck into his, and you grab one of his hands to pull it towards your core. “c’mon, sam. you know what i want…”
he laughs against your shoulder. “eager, aren’t we?” but he doesn’t fight your advances. he traces the waistband of your panties, making you shiver at the soft touch. a fucking tease, that’s what he was. he nearly moans himself when he feels how wet you already are. “jesus, bug, all this for me?”
you press your hips harder against his fingers, seeking any friction that you can. “only for you. always for you, baby,” you whimper. with the way your body was shaking, he knew you were already on the edge. just waiting for a little more. it was a month since the two of you were last intimate, and he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t close himself at just the thought of sending you over that edge.
he slides his pointer and middle finger into your underwear, before inserting them into your pussy, making you cry out. like a man starved, he dives in to kiss you, muffling all the whimpers that escape your mouth. he didn’t want anyone to hear them, and especially not dean. they were special to him, and for his ears only. besides, he’d probably die of emarrassement if dean mentioned him hearing anything to sam. slowly, he pumps them in and out of you, dragging them against your walls. one hand grips the hem of your baggy shirt, while the other holds onto the ends of his hair. your grasp is tight, making sam whimper in response, and you swallow the sound happily. once he finds your sweet spot, he doesn’t stop hitting it. over and over again, making you see stars.
“right there! right there, keep going, baby,” you cry out against his lips.
he coos. “i know, pretty girl. almost there, yeah? doing so well for me.”
the combination of his words of praise and his thumb pressing down against your clit sends you over the edge. quietly crying out his name as you come all over his fingers. he pulls them out slowly, and reaches across you to grab a tissue off the nightstand. he wipes your fluids off your thighs and his fingers, before throwing it into the nearby trash can. with his other hand, he brushes some hair away from where it sticks to your forehead. “what about you?” you croak, gesturing to where his cock strains against his boxers.
he shakes his head, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “no, bug, i’m okay. this was all about you. you helped us out tonight, and you deserved a reward for that.”
and you’re getting too tired again to fight with him, so you just nod and shove your face into his shirt. “i’m gonna miss you, you know. when you go back to college.”
his hand slides up your shirt to trace patterns on your back. “yeah, about that… i was thinking. dean and i were a good team, better than i remember us being. and your knowledge on the lore really helped us out, as well. maybe we could, you know, continue doing this. hunting,” he softly admits.
you pull back, just enough to look up at him. “what about college? and your interview for law school? i thought that’s what you wanted?” it didn’t make any sense. he had worked so hard for this, why would he throw it all away now?
“i know it is, bug, but there’s something more important than school in my life. you. doing all this tonight made me realize that the sooner we find dad, the sooner we hunt the thing that killed my mom. and once that’s over, i’ll be done. i’ll go back to college, and you and i can live together. we can find a small house, get married… maybe even have kids. if you want to, of course. school’s important to me, yeah. and i worked hard for it, but i promised that i would never leave you again, remember? i just have this bad feeling that if i leave you again… i won’t ever get you back.”
through his whole explanation, your eyes never leave his face. you can tell he’s put a lot of thought into this. “okay, baby, if that’s what you want. i don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”
“i’m not, pretty girl. promise. i want you, always and forever.”
you lean up to kiss him softly, which speaks louder than words. you would call bobby in the morning and inform that you would begin to travel with sam and dean. he’d be happy for you, even if he’d miss your presence in the house at times. and sure, you’d have to get used to living out of a bag, and eating nothing but gas station and shitty diner food, but it would be with him.
your sam.
your smart boy.
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a/n: i can't believe that we've finally reached the end of this series !! it's such a bittersweet feeling to end it for me. i was originally gonna end it with angst, but i just couldn't hurt my baby sam like that. i truly loved writing this series so much and it really helped me find my love for writing and storytelling again, which i couldn't be more grateful for. i'm also soo grateful for all the love and support i've gotten from each person who has commented, or even just hearted each piece i've written.
i just love the relationship between these two characters, and i wanted to make it both complex and realistic, which i hope i did. once again, i'm so thankful for each and everyone of you guys, and i can't believe i'm close to 200 FOLLOWERS?? crazy. thank u all sm for that. anyways, i'll stop yapping now, but please let me know if there's anything you wanna see from me i exist in many fandoms tbh 😭 let me know if you would like to be in my taglist for any future works, just message me or add a comment. and if you're currently on it for just the series, please let me know if you'd like to stay on it or be un-added !! i love u all sm <333
taglist: @sacr1ficialang3l @mostlymarvelgirl @hobiespick @iloveyou2mia
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WET DREAMZ
pathetic sammy wet dream boo. surprise! warnings: doggy, praise from sam, size kink, finger stuff, idk fluff at the end. i love him. also tjis is straight up porn. this is a surprise for @sweeterthancandy i love you !!
༺☆༻
after a long day of smoke-thick motels, coffee that tasted like burnt air, and another grave dug somewhere off the highway, sam winchester didn’t know how he found himself here.
“you’re—fuck, being too loud, baby,” he murmured, voice soft against your ear. even with your face muffled in the pillow, the sounds you were making were way too loud for him to brush off as just him taking care of a hangover. if the people outside the motel paid enough attention, they would know exactly what was happening in here. “gotta… gotta keep it down a little.”
“m—m’trying,” you slurred into the pillow again, clamping your teeth into the fabric of the pillow, trying to bite back a soft cry at the sensation of him sitting idle inside you. he was stretching you out, due to his big size of 8 inches, and for a girl who was shorter than 6’4 and wasn’t 200 pounds of pure muscle? that was a lot to take.
sam’s hand came down to gently trace the arch of your back, pushing you further into the mattress for a better angle. “s’gotta be really... really hard for you,” he was blabbering now, still rocking into you. he was trying desperately not to let out any sounds of his own, which was very difficult when you were being so, good for him. “doing so... so good, baby.” he reminded.
slowly, his fingers that were curled around your hips tightened to an almost bruising grip, and he pushed himself—all eight inches inside. the sensation had you seeing stars, a loud gasp leaving your throat, eyes squeezing shut.
one of sam’s big hands quickly came to cover your mouth, desperate to keep you quiet now. his hips leaned back then thrusted forward, burying himself completely inside you as a soft, strained gasp left him. his fingers pressed against your lips, trying to contain the sounds that you tried to let out. “you... you’re gonna wake up the whole—fuck.” sam’s fingers pressed down more firmly, keeping you silent as he continued to move inside your tight heat.
“you gotta be... be so quiet,” he slurred, letting out a low groan at the feeling of you clenching around him. he started to speed up, just barely, still trying to keep you from being completely loud. you gasped as he sped up, biting his finger gently to keep yourself quiet—a sharp whine leaving him at the sensation.
“such a … fuck.. a good girl,” sam whispered, his fingers loosening a bit as your whimpers got higher. his hands moved to grab your ass, holding you to him as he began to thrust harder into you. his voice was becoming more strained. “takin’ it so well, yeah, that’s right, that’s—“
sam woke with a sharp hiss at the sound of your voice, startled out of an uneasy sleep that clung to him like sweat. his eyes fluttered open, unfocused and squinting against the dim motel light, and when he realized where he was—and that you were standing right there—he groaned softly and turned his face away, suddenly very invested in the peeling wallpaper beside the bed.
his fingers moved automatically to his chin, brushing over the tacky warmth that confirmed his embarrassment. a thin trail of drool. perfect.
“ugh, god,” he muttered, swiping it off quickly with the sleeve of his flannel. “i—I wasn’t even that tired.”
you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “you were snoring.”
“was not,” he mumbled, still avoiding your eyes.
“you drooled, sam.”
“yeah, okay, i might’ve drooled,” he admitted, cheeks already starting to turn a light, bashful pink. “don’t act like it’s a crime.”
“it’s not,” you teased, fighting a grin. “it’s just gross. and weirdly… vulnerable of you.”
“glad to know my most humiliating moment brings you joy.”
he finally risked a glance at you, only to find you staring with that irritating mix of amusement and affection that made him want to both roll his eyes and hide under the covers.
“you were mumbling in your sleep, too,” you added. “sounded like a mix between an insane injury and a porno.”
sam groaned again, dragging a hand down his face. “please stop talking.”
“what were you dreaming about?”
“you. shutting up,” he deadpanned.
you’d never know.
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DEAN WINCHESTER IN EVERY EPISODE ↳ 4.02 - Are You There, God? It’s Me, Dean Winchester
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