#dean winchester birthday fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wraithlafitte · 3 months

Text

bitchin'

pairing: dean winchester x reader

CONTENT: violence (hunting), SMUT, only one bed~ enemies to lovers (kinda), unprotected p in v (encase before you embrace), hate sex, Dean calls reader "princess" mockingly, manhandling, slapping, spanking, big dick!Dean has all the audacity, dirty talk, degradation, choking, cum eating, brat taming, edging, overstimulation, squirting

word count: 4.7k

To say you were unhappy to be working with Dean Winchester would be putting it lightly. A massive understatement, in fact. But, as luck would have it, you needed backup on a vamp case; and when you called Bobby Singer for help, it turned out that Dean was the only hunter nearby.

Your jaw set uncomfortably as you dialed his number and held the phone to your ear. Asking for help from anyone was hard, but from this man? Practically your mortal enemy? A feeling of shame, or maybe embarrassment, crept into your stomach as you listened to the phone ring.

He's probably just watching it ring, you thought cynically. Who's to say he would pick up at all? Maybe he won't, you hoped.

There was a laundry list of reasons why Dean was the last person you'd want to work with on a case. He was reckless, had no respect for plans, and tended to go in guns blazing without regard for his own life, which meant that you would constantly be saving his ass. And boy, was he a pain in yours.

The cherry on top of the Dean Winchester disaster cake was that he hated your guts. You never really figured out why, but you assumed it was his misogynistic tendency to be completely contrary to any woman he met who didn't fall all over him. God forbid a woman doesn't care about his rugged good looks or roguish bravery!

When he finally picked up, you could practically hear the smirk in his voice, dripping with self-righteousness. "Well, well. What do you want?"

You decided it would be best to cut to the chase and just get it over with. "I'm working a case in Nevada," you said calmly. He would not get you riled up. "Vegas. There's a vamp nest, been snatching homeless people. Tunnel dwellers," you added. "Not that it matters. People are people, vamps are vamps."

"What are you tellin' me for?" Dean asked gruffly. He was gonna make you say it. Of fucking course he was, because he just had to hold it over your head.

"Need backup," you said curtly. "There's at least five of them."

"So what you're sayin' is...." The smugness in his voice was unmistakeable.

"I need your help, you dick."

"Oh do you now."

You huffed, already fed up with him. "Bobby says you're the only hunter he knows nearby. Said you're in Flagstaff."

"Maybe I am," he said vaguely. "Bobby should know not to tell you anything about where I am or recommend me as reinforcements for you."

"He didn't want to, but I made him. Are you coming or not?" you said sharply.

I'll be there by nightfall. Don't wait up," he said teasingly and hung up, leaving you to listen to the tone, steaming.

Why does he have to make everything so difficult?

Rough pounding on the door of your motel room startled you up from your chair at midnight. Dean wasn't even in the room yet, and he was already tormenting you. You went to the door and jerked it open, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could feel the headache coming on.

"Honey, I'm home," Dean said wickedly. He pushed past you into the room, dropping his duffel bags in the middle of the floor. He dropped into the chair you had just vacated and looked up at you with a shit-eating grin.

"Don't make this any harder than it has to be," you warned him, eyes narrowing.

"Hey, I'm just excited to kill some vamps," he said, jabbing a finger towards you.

"Give it up. We both know you would rather be anywhere else."

"True," he conceded. "But let me just bask in the moment real quick."

You roll your eyes and return to your task, packing up your stuff. "Don't get too comfortable. We can't stay here. I was followed earlier."

"Perfect," Dean said sarcastically. "Of course you were."

You turn on him. "It can happen to anyone."

"Sure," he mocked. "So what's the plan, genius?"

Your face hardened. "We take the fight to them."

"Say no more."

The vampire's nest was in an abandoned warehouse (real original) that was a few streets away from one of the tunnels that the homeless had set up camp in. Chain link fence, corrugated metal, broken windows, the whole deal. And of course Dean wouldn't wait to make a game plan, sliding open a side door like nothing bad was waiting to jump him. In a vampire nest. At night.

All you could do was follow him, machete at the ready, and hope that the scuffing of his boots on the concrete floor wouldn't alert any vampires to your presence.

Dean ducked down, holding a fist in the air. You hurried behind him and crouched behind a shelf just in time to miss a patrolling vampire rounding the corner. Without missing a beat, Dean jumped out behind it and chopped it at the neck soundlessly. The body fell to the floor. As much as you hated to admit it, he was good.

You crept in the direction the fang had come from, Dean hot on your heels. He was so close you could hear his leather jacket creaking, smell his cologne, feel him practically breathing down your neck. You shot him a glare over your shoulder, then suddenly you hear voices. You stopped abruptly in your tracks, causing Dean to bump into you. You elbowed him and gave him a look.

Peeking around the doorframe, you saw what appeared to be the vamps' main hangout room. And there were a lot more than five of them, lounging around the walls, circling victims that were hung by their wrists from a beam.

"We can take them," Dean whispered in your ear.

You looked at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?" you hissed back. You tried to count the dark shapes in the next room. "There's at least ten in there. There's only two of us."

"We can do it." Without waiting for a reply, Dean busted down the door and started swinging. You had no choice but to follow as the vampires started coming out of their startled stupor and attacking.

Dean cut down two of them easily, their heads rolling on the floor before they knew what hit them. The rest, however, had time to react.

One of the vampires rushed you, just managing to avoid your blade as you swung it. She snarled and leapt towards you. You slashed her across the chest and she howled, clutching her shirt. You took the opportunity and decapitated her.

Someone grabbed you from behind, claw-like nails scratching your neck as it was forced to the side, baring your skin. You stabbed behind you, blade finding purchase, and used the distraction to cut off the fang's head.

Another vamp rushed you from the front. You swung your blade out in defense, but he just grabbed it and ripped it from your hand. Then, as if they could smell your defenselessness, you were suddenly swarmed, vampires clawing at your skin, your clothes, pulling your hair. Several hard punches landed to your gut and your face and the wind was knocked out of you as you fell to the floor, smacking the side of your head into the concrete. You yelped in pain and shock.

A boot pressed into the side of your neck and your vision was suddenly obscured by a heavy-set vampire bearing down on you, grinning. "Not so tough now without your little sword," he sneered, fangs descending. His mouth was smeared with blood and you could smell the tang of iron on his breath. You struggled to breathe as the pressure on your neck increased, your vision getting spotty.

Great, this is how I die....

As if in the distance, you heard Dean shout. The looming face of the vamp was promptly detached from its body, hitting the floor by your head. His body fell on top of yours, his gross bloody neck stump right in your view. The boot left your neck and charged in the direction of Dean's voice.

You struggled to free yourself from beneath the former vamp, ears ringing from your near-suffocation. You could hear the ensuing scuffle, all grunts and wet slices and heavy footfalls, but you had no idea who was winning.

Then, it was silent.

You held your breath instinctively, listening to a lone pair of footsteps approaching you. You found yourself realizing for the first time that you hoped Dean was coming. Better than the alternative.

Sure enough, Dean's hunt-beaten face appeared above you, screwed up with effort as he pushed the large vamp's body off of you. You sat up quickly, surveying the carnage, slapping away the extended helping hand. The shock of your near death experience wore off quickly, but the adrenaline from the fight did not, so your energy turned towards Dean.

"What the fuck, Dean?" you yelled, rising to your feet, wincing from the pain in your sides.

"What do you mean what the fuck?" he returned angrily. "I just saved your goddamn life!"

"After you endangered it!" you shoved him, scowling furiously. "Ten to two are not good odds! We could have fucking died! I almost did!"

"Hazards of the job, sweetheart!"

"There's hazards, and then there's suicide," you replied, fuming.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Don't have to thank me."

"I won't." You shoved him out of your way and made for the door. "Don't you ever fucking do that again."

"Not so fast, princess," Dean called after you. "Hunt's not over."

You froze in your tracks. "What."

"I didn't get all of 'em." You whirled around to face Dean, who was looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

Your voice was dangerously quiet. "What do you mean you didn't get all of them?"

He made an attempt at a self-confident grin. "They saw me ganking their buddies like nobody's business, turned tail and ran. I was more concerned about saving your life than to chase."

You smirked tauntingly. "Oh, you cared about my life?"

Dean just shrugged. "Couldn't just leave you there."

"Whatever." You started walking to the entrance again. "Since you let some get away, I say we get a night's sleep. They'll probably be expecting us to come after them, so they won't hunt again tonight. We can pick up the trail in the morning."

"What do you mean you only have one room left?" Dean asked angrily, slamming his hands down on the motel counter.

The clerk looked at him blankly. "Just what I said."

You were at the cheapest motel you could find in the city that was built on tourism. You and Dean were both short on cash, so it seemed like the best option. It was this or take shelter with the junkies in the tunnels.

"I'm not spending the night in the same room as her!"

You hit his shoulder. "Hey!"

"Like you don't feel the same," Dean said exasperatedly, digging out his wallet. "Next cheapest is still too expensive. I'm basically broke," he whined, rifling through his meager collection of bills.

"What happened to all your credit cards, Mr. Fraud?" you sneered.

Dean glared at you. You glared back. After a few moments, the clerk cleared his throat.

"So, do you want the room or not?"

You dropped your bags just inside the door of the room. "You're fucking kidding me."

Dean pushed past you. "What- oh. Oh my goddd." He ran his hand down his face tiredly.

Staring you in the face was the decidedly lumpy surface of a double bed. One. That fucking clerk could've warned you.

You and Dean slowly looked at each other, then you made a mad dash to claim the bed, shoving each other out of the way, kicking, tackling, until you both lay tangled on the floor, still not in the bed. You had his arm pinned behind his back, but he was pinning you to the floor with his weight.

You jerked on his arm, panting, and he grunted painfully, digging his knee into your side.

"Say.. uncle," you gritted out.

"You first!" Dean rasped.

"No!"

You laid there for a few more seconds, then, almost as if it was painful, Dean asked, "Should we- call it a draw?"

You rolled your eyes and released him. He rolled off of you, getting to his feet. He didn't help you up, of course.

"I'm not sleeping on the floor," he said spitefully.

"Well, neither am I." Your eyes narrowed.

You laid on the bed stiffly, positioned all the way at the edge of the mattress, as far away from Dean as possible. He was doing the same, and the blanket was pulled taut between you as you wordlessly battled over it.

You were steaming. You should have known that everything would go to shit if you called on him. He completely ruined what should have been a one-hour job, endangering your life and letting a few vamps go. He did, technically, save your life though. You were grateful, but you wouldn't tell him that in a million years.

Adrenaline from the hunt and your constant fighting with Dean coursed through your veins, keeping every sense on high alert. Every tug of the sheets from Dean lit a fire under your skin. His weight behind you on the bed filled you with a painful awareness of how touch-starved you truly were. As much as you tried to suppress it, tension began building in your core.

You shifted uncomfortably, squeezing your thighs together. "Ugh," you let out before you could stop yourself.

"Shut up," Dean grumbled through the darkness.

The sound of his voice, rough with tiredness, intensified how extremely horny you felt. You felt your underwear getting damp in spite of your hate for the man.

"God dammit," you said frustratedly, sitting up and swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

"What?" Dean said, throwing the covers back and sitting up too. "Why can't you just let me fucking sleep?"

"Nothing," you snapped, taking a swig from your water bottle. Hydrating would calm you down, surely.

"Yeah, right," he snapped back. "What the fuck is wrong?"

"I'm really fucking horny, Christ!" you blurt, whirling on him.

"If I fuck you, will you stop bitchin'?" Dean demanded, fire and a deadly seriousness in his eyes.

You opened and closed your mouth, stunned.

He just smirked at you. "Is that what it takes to shut you up?"

You stared at him. "Are you serious?"

"You want me so bad, huh." He moved across the bed and settled right behind you, his face in your neck, inches away from your own.

"Shut up," you say, flustered, still trying to keep some semblance of control. But you couldn't deny the arousal pooling in your gut.

"Say the word," Dean said smoothly, breath fanning over your exposed shoulder.

"Fuck," you whispered, cursing what you're about to do. You turned your head and smashed your lips to his.

Dean responded immediately, pulling you backwards and into his lap. He bit at your lips, forcing his tongue inside your mouth. You made an indignant sound, battling him for dominance, teeth clashing in a messy display of pure desire.

Your lips only parted to rip off each other's shirts. You dug your fingernails into Dean's bare shoulders as hard as you could, trying to elicit some kind of reaction from him, which came in the form of a deep groan into your mouth. He broke away, panting, and flung you onto your back on the mattress.

Leering down at you, he placed himself between your legs. "That's how you wanna play, huh princess?"

He yanked your leg up by the knee and slapped the back of your thigh. An involuntary moan escaped your mouth, and Dean chuckled darkly. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."

"Just shut up and fuck me," you whined, hitting his side with your foot.

"Ah-ah," he tutted. "Bad girls don't get what they want."

You sat up and came nose to nose with him. "If you think for one second that I am going to sit here and play submissive for you-"

Dean laced his fingers through the back of your hair and sharply tugged your head back. You moaned in response. A smile slowly grew over his face and he let go abruptly and shoved you back down. Your back barely hit the mattress before he was yanking off your sleep shorts and underwear in one go, tossing them to the far reaches of the room. You gasped as the cool air from the room hit your core, driving home the fact that you were now completely exposed to him.

"Aw, already so wet for me," Dean jeered, running a finger up your slit roughly. You flinched away from the sudden contact, heat spreading to your face.

"Don't flatter yourself," you gasped as he shoved a finger inside you, curling it vigorously, relishing the wet sounds your pussy produced.

Dean palmed himself through his pajama pants, groaning. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, he added a second finger inside you, scissoring you open. At least he has the decency to prepare me, you thought.

He yanked his fingers out of you, giving your pussy a quick slap, and you whined at the sudden empty feeling.

"Don't whine," Dean said roughly, getting off the bed and kicking off his pants and boxers. You looked down, unable to help yourself.

You saw where he got all his confidence from. He was big. You practically quivered with anticipation. You loved a good stretch, and you liked it rough, and this was about to be both.

"Like what you see?" Dean mocked, shaking his cock.

"Looks like maybe your confidence isn't completely unwarranted," you admitted dryly. You could feel your combative spirit giving way to lust, but you weren't giving up that easily.

He winked, grabbed your ankles and jerked you to the edge of the bed, your thighs around his waist, your hair fanned out on the blanket behind your head. Dean took hold of your calves and pressed your knees up by your face, leaning over you and pinning you down with his weight again. Only this time, it was way hotter.

"Gonna be good for me?" he asked, voice dripping with mock sweetness.

"In your fucking dreams," you spat.

In one fluid motion, he backed off of you, grabbed you by the waist, and spun you onto your stomach. You squeaked as a heavy hand landed on your ass, much harder than he hit before.

You used your feet, barely touching the floor, to push yourself back towards him, hoping he would get the point and just fuck you already without you having to ask him again.

"So fucking needy," he murmured in your ear. "Use your words, princess."

"Fuck you," you moaned, feeling his cock jerk against your leg.

"Mmm, that's not right," Dean warned, fingers digging into your hips.

You grit your teeth. "Fuck me."

Dean splayed his fingers over your ass cheeks, spreading you open for him, and thrust into you roughly, filling you in one go.

You gasped, feeling his cock throb inside you as your pussy complained against the intrusion and desperately tried to adjust to his size. He groaned as you clenched around him, pulling out slowly and slamming back in.

"Dean," you gasped out. "Don't be such a fucking tease."

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want, princess," Dean growled, his thrusts becoming faster. "You asked for this."

"Technically- you offered," you corrected, eyes screwing shut at the pleasure building inside you with each thrust.

"God, shut- up," Dean griped, punctuating his words with a deep thrust that hit just right, eliciting an embarrassingly loud moan from you.

He just grunted, hips colliding against you, now just chasing his own high. You pressed your face into the bed, clutching the blanket with both fists, fortifying yourself against Dean's relentless pace. His fingers pressed deeply into your hips, carving out a place for him, letting you know you wouldn't be coming away from this encounter unbruised.

"God, you're so fucking tight," Dean rasped, slapping your ass. You moaned in response, unable to think of a witty retort. "Bet it's been a long time since you were fucked, huh?"

When you didn't reply, he slapped your ass again, on the other side, sending fireworks through your core.

"Bet that's why you're so desperate for me," he groaned. "Haven't gotten laid in a while. Bet that's why you're such a bitch, too," he added snarkily.

"Oh, fuck off," you mumbled into the mattress.

Dean pulled out, much to your chagrin, turning you onto your back again. "If you want," he said, eyes glimmering with mischief.

You pouted and whined, hooking your feet around his waist and trying to pull him back. You were rewarded with a sharp slap to your pussy. You cried out from the stimulation.

"Don't whine," he growled, pushing into you again on the last word.

"Sorry," you whispered in spite of yourself, gripping onto his arms as he cages you in with his body.

"What was that?" Dean said, grinning wickedly and thrusting into you sharply.

"Fuck-" you moaned instead, refusing to cooperate.

He wraps his hand around your throat loosely, putting slight pressure just under your jaw. Your eyes widened as he slowly increased the pressure, jeering down at you, still slamming into you at an incredible pace. Your body started to become overwhelmed with all the sensory input and your core tightened.

You knew Dean felt it, because he grimaced. "Gonna come, you little slut?" he taunted, reaching down with his free hand to rub harshly at your clit. A low whine released from the back of your throat.

His grip tightened around your neck to see your reaction. You gasped, straining to get a full breath in, your pussy clenching hard around his cock.

"Such a fucking slut that you're gonna come from being choked out," Dean said through gritted teeth, his thrusts becoming sloppy.

"Fuck- Dean," you choked out, both hands wrapped around his wrist. He eased up on the pressure some (he didn't want to kill you) and your hands moved desperately up his arm, gripping him tightly.

Dean was getting close, you could tell, but the question remained: would he come before you? And if he did, would he still take care of you? Somehow you doubted it. The self-absorbed jackass was probably going to cum inside you and fall asleep, like almost every other man you'd slept with.

Suddenly Dean lurched forward, shoving his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, breathing heavily in your ear. You clenched in surprise (and also because a man getting desperate was one of the hottest things on the planet).

Dean groaned deeply in response and bit down on your shoulder, hard. You cried out, half from pain and half from the surprising pleasure it sent roaring through you, causing your cunt to squeeze down on him tightly. He practically whimpered, detaching from your skin and pulling out, pumping himself a few times before spilling onto your stomach with a moan.

He looked down at the mess he'd made of you, dragging his fingers through his cum. Then he brought those fingers up to your mouth and pressed them against your lips. "Open."

You scowled at him, once again determined to be contrary.

Dean glared back. "Open, or you don't get to come," he said harshly, forcing his fingers between your lips and teeth.

So he was planning to take care of you. Your neediness returned in full force, and you opened your mouth to allow him to shove his fingers deep into your mouth. You gagged as his fingertips hit the back of your throat, the taste of his cum filling your mouth. He pressed down on your tongue and you dutifully sucked on his fingers as he smirked down at the sight.

"Good little slut," Dean said nastily, obviously feeling proud of himself. He started to pull his fingers out and you closed your teeth, scraping his skin as he did. He slapped your cheek lazily once his hand was free. "Swallow it."

You glared, but did as you were told, sticking out your tongue to prove it.

Dean grinned. "Ready for your reward, princess?"

You moaned needily, throwing your head back and bucking your hips up towards him.

"Such a fucking whore," he chastised, bringing his hand to your clit and stroking around it lazily. A pang of arousal shot through you as you quickly approached the edge again. All thoughts of defiance went out the window as you grinded against his hand.

"Please," you whimpered, squirming under his touch.

"Since you asked so nicely," Dean mocked. He stuffed your pussy with three fingers at once, thrusting and curling them inside you. "Fuckin' dripping, princess."

He brought his other hand to your clit, thumbing it in figure eights in time with his fingers. You gasped as your core tightened. His fingers were bringing you so close to the brink and just keeping you there, never increasing the pressure just enough to push you over.

"Fuuuck," you moaned, panting. "Please, Dean! I need- I need-"

"You need what?" he teased. He twisted his fingers up to your g-spot, simultaneously ceasing his movements on your clit to press down on it hard.

"Oh, God!" you cried out, almost hyperventilating. The feeling of your orgasm building up was almost too much to bear. A dry sob wracked your body.

Dean nipped at your chest, gazing up at your contorted face with eyes so innocent looking you could've sworn, for a moment, that this was not a man you hated with your entire being, who was not currently doing the most sinful things to you with his hands.

You whimpered pathetically. "Please," you said in a small voice. "I need to come so bad." Your face flushed with shame as you finally admit what he's done to you, both with your words and body.

"All you had to do was ask," Dean said, sickly sweet. His hands sparked into motion again, redoubling their efforts. You let out a strangled scream as you were brought right back to the precipice, only this time, surely, he's going to let you?

It was like a pot boiling over, overwhelming heat spreading from your core out through your stomach, making your legs shake and your abs tighten. You made another strangled, desperate noise as you grinded down on his hand.

"That's it, princess, fuck yourself on my fingers," Dean goaded.

You struggled to catch your breath, eyes wide. Your face was hot and wet, and you realized numbly that tears were streaming down your face, running into your hair. He started to take his hands away, but your hands chased them, seizing them and bringing them back to your core.

Dean seemed surprised, but more than willing to fuck you past the point of no return. "Fuck, you just can't get enough, huh," he said, sounding mildly impressed. Your body shook as he all but stilled his fingers inside you, just rubbing your clit slowly until it became too much to bear and you pushed him off.

You laid there panting quietly, your body shivering from the aftershocks of one of the most intense orgasms you'd had in a while. For once, it seemed like Dean didn't know what to say.

You closed your eyes for a moment, then suddenly felt his hand on your clit again, rubbing vigorously. Your eyes flew open and you looked down to see Dean's face set in determination. You clutched at his wrist, trying weakly to get him away, knees trying to close around him, but it didn't take long for you to cum again with a shriek, heels digging into the mattress to push yourself away. Your cunt pulsed around nothing, and you felt a gush of arousal leave you. Dean looked delighted.

"I fucking knew it," he said triumphantly, holding up his hand to survey the mess.

"What?" you asked feebly as another shiver ran through your body.

"Knew you'd be so touch-starved I could get you to squirt," Dean explained smugly. He licked some of your arousal off his hand.

You threw your head back onto the bed exasperatedly. "God, I hate you."

"Could've fooled me," he returned, displaying his hand to you and smirking.

dividers once again by @cafekitsune and @saradika-graphics

#dean winchester’s 45th birthday celebration #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn smut #spn fanfiction #supernatural smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #userwraith

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 3 months

Text

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main masterlist | supernatural masterlist

summary: dean admits he feels old and you can’t help but gawk at his thinking

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 0.4k

warnings: body image issues, language, references to characters expecting death in the past/vague mentions of suicidal tendencies

timeline: set in an au where the series finale was different

author’s note: happy (belated) birthday to my favorite lil guy! love you so so much, thank you for not dying in the series finale!! (ps: please let me know if the format looks weird/different cause i finally have a laptop so this is the first time i'm using website tumblr and not the app)

“I’m forty-fucking-five.” Dean stared into the mirror, his eyes noticing every wrinkle and crinkle in his skin. “Forty-five,” he repeated.

“Happy birthday, Dean!” You walked into the bathroom and wrapped your arms around him from behind.

“Can you believe I’m forty-five?” He laughed humorlessly.

“I seriously can’t,” you replied, your grip tightening. “I can’t believe I’m actually gonna get to grow old with you, Winchester.”

“Uh huh…old,” he mumbled.

“I made breakfast, wanna come downstairs and eat it with me?”

“Sounds great sweetheart, you go ahead and I’ll be down in a minute.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked, Dean looked at you with a confused expression. “You’ve barely touched your bacon and eggs, not to mention the pancakes you seem to be ignoring…are you okay?”

“Just…a lot on my mind I guess.” He tried to smile but you saw right through it.

“Dean,” you warned.

“I’m old, hun. I mean forty-five is like…officially old,” he admitted.

You furrowed your brows; “Seriously? That’s what’s bothering you?”

He nodded a little, avoiding your gaze.

“First off, you aren’t ‘officially old’ whatever that means,” you started. “Secondly…I want to grow old with you, Dean. Getting to see you age and aging with you is a fucking privilege! Especially considering the insane job we used to have.” You took his hands in yours. “Let’s face it, neither of us ever expected to make it to thirty-five, let alone forty or even forty-five.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I never even worried about smile lines or eating healthy or anything like that because I firmly believed I’d never make it to an age where any of that mattered,” you cut him off. “And I know you’ve felt the same. So, now? Seeing your wrinkles deepen, your strands of gray hair? I’m fucking thrilled, Dean. The realization that we’re actually gonna grow old together is really sinking in and I’m so, so excited about our future together.”

“You’ve really got a way with words,” he laughed a little.

“It’s a gift,” you said smugly. “Besides, you can’t seriously believe you aren’t getting sexier each day, right?”

“You think?” He smirked.

“Oh I know,” you replied. You leaned over and kissed his lips sweetly. “And I just keep falling more and more in love with you.”

“I love you too,” he mumbled into your mouth, kissing you back.

“Now eat your delicious breakfast that I spent way too long making!” you said, a fake tone of authority lacing your words. Dean let out a loud, deep chuckle — making his smile lines and fine wrinkles more visible, therefore causing your smile to grow.

He obliged and started eating the food on his plate, practically moaning when he got to the pancakes.

#dean winchester x reader #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester birthday #supernatural fluff #happy birthday dean winchester #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader

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deanbrainrotwritings · 3 months

Text

— LIVING LOVING MAID (SHE’S JUST A WOMAN)

SUMMARY : being Dean’s wife, doing very kinky stuff with each other, it’s the best thing ever.

PAIRING : dean winchester x wife!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluff, breeding/impregnation kink, p in v, dirty slutty behaviour/cute loving behaviour, sex tape, gentle choking, finger sucking, spanking, cum eating, spitting, cum kissing

WORD COUNT : 3.2k

A/N : led zeppelin song title. nothing to say but there's a Japanese song playing in my head Xxx

“So,” Dean wondered, fixing his laptop at the foot of the bed, “how are we doing this, baby?” He asked, looking at himself as the camera on the laptop recorded him and his wife beside him.

She flushed and pulled Dean’s brown flannel closer to her bare body, “I don’t know,” she laughed, watching his smile widen. “I’ve never done this before.” She looked away from the image of the two of them on the screen, and gazed at her Dean right in front of her. That heated look in his fierce green eyes made her feel more confident and unbearably aroused.

“You wanted to do this,” he laughed, shuffling on his knees to get behind her. She looked down at the screen, her eyes fixed on her husband who’s smirk only made her stomach do flips.

“Yeah, but…” she trailed off, following the movement of his hands up her body, slowly opening his shirt. Heat pooled between her legs, followed by a sensation of wetness dripping down her thighs that distracted her further.

“But what?” He teased, cupping her breasts to knead them roughly in his warm, calloused hands. The wedding band on his finger brushed against her nipple and made her inhale sharply and her focus was brought back to him.

“Don’t you have any ideas?” She chuckled, squirming in his strong arms. Dean rolled his eyes and let her turn her upper body to face him. She brought her hand up to cup his stubbled jaw and pulled him in for a quick kiss.

Dean smiled down at her and pecked her lips once more, shivering in response to her nails brushing at the short hair behind his neck. Dean tilted his head, his nose brushed against hers, and he kissed her softly again—a chaste kiss that trapped her top lip between both of his. Pillowy and chapped against her mouth, she smiled at his tenderness.

“I have a few ideas,” he murmured, keeping his hand on waist, bringing the other into her hair. She hummed curiously, but Dean kissed her again, instead of elaborating. This time, his tongue pressed against her somewhat parted lips, but he pulled away before she could respond to the affection.

“Like what?” She whispered, closing her eyes when he dipped back in for a kiss. Finally, Dean remained close as his tongue prodded at her lips. Effortlessly, his wet tongue slipped between her pink lips, and she leaned back into him, her entire body succumbing to his lips. His love. His adoring tenderness.

Dean pulled away, his tongue lapped at hers before parting from her mouth breathlessly. He cupped her cheek in his safe hands, brushed his thumb against her cheekbone, and tilted her face down to press his lips to her forehead. She smiled softly and moved with him to look in each other’s eyes once more, both greeted by fondness and warmth.

“You’re not…” he trailed off bashfully, letting his hand fall from her waist to her hip, and then across to her stomach. His thumb brushed against the smooth flesh by her belly button and something ignited inside her, her pupils dilating in instant understanding of what he was asking. “… Using contraceptives anymore, right?”

She glanced quickly at the camera, then sat on her legs, looking up at him reverently, shyly. “No,” she whispered, looking away when her neck began to ache.

“And… that’s okay?” He asked, sliding out of bed to strip out of his boxer briefs. “What I’m, uh, suggesting?” He wondered, concerned with her reaction, met with silence. She turned to face him with a loving expression; tall, handsome, and so tender with her. How could she ever have doubts with him?

“Yes,” she replied, shrugging his shirt off her shoulders while turning her whole body to face him. Dean’s arm stretched out to take the flannel from her and her eyes automatically dropped down between his legs where his cock was already stiff and ready for her.

Dean smirked at her the whole time that he blindly discarded his shirt onto his desk, covering it carelessly in the thick cloth. She glanced back up at him through her lashes with a look of seductive grace and beauty that made him breathless.

Dean slid back into bed with her, his mellow eyes trained on her lips. “Baby, I love you,” he told her warmly, diving carefully in between her parted legs. He put his arms around her waist to draw her into him, and kissed her with all the tenderness and love he could pour into her—like the most expensive, tasty, silky wine slipping past her lips from his very heart until she was drunk.

He barely removed himself from her lips when she felt his fingers teasing up and down the seam of her pussy, from her soaked opening to her clit with quick, gentle flicks. Her eyes fluttered open, gazing into heavy greens and pinkish cheeks below thick lashes. Dean exhaled shakily against her lips, getting a clear view of the drunkenness from his kiss in her dazed eyes.

“You’re so wet,” he told her, his voice just above a whisper.

“How do you want it?” She nuzzled his nose, her lips ghosting over his, so his eyes fluttered shut. Dean chuckled, capturing her lower lip between his teeth as he shuddered.

“I should be asking you that,” he whispered, his fingers sneaking away from her core to tease her inner thighs, “but if you’re leaving it up to me…” Dean cupped her jaw, his fingers against her flushed skin so gentle, unlike the hand squeezing her thigh until she leaned into him completely, cracked lips against her pink ones.

He kissed her roughly, hungrily, revelling in her moan, in her warm hands roaming up his strong thighs. His thigh’s muscles clenched and his cock bobbed. She was just so tasty, sweet against his tongue, soft, warm, and wet—like everywhere else inside her.

Dean pulled away with a sharp inhale, her soft hands gripped his cock at the base, and her fingertips grazed upwards gently, taunting him. He pressed firm, desperate kisses along her throat, grazing his teeth against tendons and bones, sucking on tender flesh to form lavender marks, and licking across the sweetness of her skin until his lips found their way around her nipples.

She whispered his name and arched her back, begging Dean to ruin her completely. His torture was slow and endless, firm and precise. Perceptive as ever, Dean pushed every button, teasing her to the point of breaking down into tears, begging him to take her whichever way he pleased.

Her breasts were left sensitive when he stepped behind her once more, and her cunt ached, pulsing to be filled by him, readier than ever before with slick that’ll make it easier for him to sink into her. She panted for breath, aroused by his skilful mouth and adept fingers in her, going anywhere and everywhere, except for the one please that clenched on nothing. Waiting.

She placed her hands over his own when he kissed her neck again, his hands returned to her chest, before coming back down spreading her thighs. She almost forgot they were recording, when she opened her eyes, and saw herself on the screen, flushed, short of breath, messy, with her folds glistening.

“Look at you,” he rasped, parting her labia with two fingers, exposing her entirely for herself to see on the laptop’s screen, “I’m gonna wreck this sweet little pussy of yours.” She whispered his name softly and Dean slipped those same two fingers between the seam of her pussy, gathering her slick, playing with her clit.

“God, Dean,” she begged, rocking her hips against his hand. She tipped her head back on his shoulder and took his wrist in her hand, urging him wordlessly to give her something, anything at all to make her feel full.

Dean chuckled darkly, and spanked her pussy, the impact landing right on her clit. Y/n gasped in surprise, then laughed. She squirmed and turned her face to look up at him when he pushed two of his fingers into her.

Her mouth fell open, but she willed herself to keep looking into Dean’s smug, green eyes. He pushed in slowly, then pulled out to coat his fingers in more slick, teasing her with each insertion of his fingers.

When his palm rested flat against her pussy, Dean pressed himself closer to her, to angle his fingers to fit inside her all the way. “Beg for it,” Dean murmured against her shoulder, grazing the bone with his teeth. She moaned loudly in response and spread her legs wider for him. Dean gladly palmed her clit, but it was so slow and singular, so she only felt a single shock of pleasure.

Dean slowly lifted his free hand up to her neck, wrapping it around her throat perfectly. He squeezed gently and her eyes fluttered shut. Dean could feel the rapid pounding of her heart beneath his fingers, excitement streamed faster through his bloodstream, and he tightened his grip around her neck.

“Please,” she whispered at last, opening her eyes wide and perfectly making his heart speed up, “fuck me, Dean.” Dean slowly pumped his fingers in and out of her. Her pussy fluttered around his fingers and she desperately reached to grip the back of his neck to bring his mouth to hers.

“Louder,” Dean demanded against her lips, his grip tightening slightly so she felt a little lightheaded. He released her throat slightly after a few seconds, the wetness of her pussy drenching his fingers audibly with every push of them in and out of her. She clenched around him and nuzzled his neck.

“Please, fuck me,” she begged a little louder, her voice trembling. She bit his neck when he hummed softly instead of giving her what she wanted. He didn’t stop fingering her and chose to moan softly, entertained by her incessant squirming. “Dean,” she moaned, squeezing her thighs shut, “I need you so bad.”

Dean pulled his fingers out of her heat and she whined against the skin of his neck, pulling away to glare at him, her hand slipping away from his soft hair. “How bad, baby? Tell me how bad you need me,” he murmured, taking her hand from his chest, the one with the sparkling gem on her ring finger.

It shined like a star. A reminder of his love. His commitment. His loyalty. His faithfulness. A reminder of his happiness.

He kissed her knuckles and kissed down to her painted fingernails, then her fingertips, down to her palm. He planted a firm, loving kiss to her wrist where he could feel the pump of her heart beating against the thin vein with his fingertips.

She had to resist bringing her hand between her legs when his eyes closed, those gorgeous lashes of his resting against freckled cheekbones. “So bad, Dean…” she whined, taking his soiled fingers to clean them of her arousal with her mouth.

Dean's eyes flew open and his throat constricted around nothing but his breath. Her warm tongue swirled around his fingertips at first and she moaned at the taste of herself. She slowly wrapped her lips around his fingers, her cheeks hallowed as she lowered her wet mouth over them. Dean moaned as she lapped the stickiness off his thick fingers, coating them in her spit the more her mouth watered at the taste of her arousal.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” Dean grinned, pressing his fingers mischievously against her throat when she took his fingers into her up to his knuckles. She gagged reflexively and took his fingers out of her mouth in shock. A string of her saliva remained attached from her lower lip to his two fingers.

“Asshole,” she seethed, practically striking like a snake when she jumped him for a searing kiss. Heat flooded through her body when she straddled his hips and his cock brushed against her wet core. She moaned against his mouth and swallowed his groan, refusing to let him torment her. “I need your cock inside me, Dean,” she whispered against his parted mouth. She rolled her hips against his, and each time, his cock brushed through the seam of her pussy, mixing her excitement with his precum.

“How do you want it?” Dean asked between lewd kisses, squeezing her ass before delivering a hard smack to each side simultaneously. She moaned softly, smiled wickedly, and sucked his tongue until he whimpered needily.

“Hard,” she told him, teasing his jawline with her teeth. “Fast,” she mumbled, holding his face in her hands to bring his face closer. “Show how much you wanna fill me with everything you’ve got.” But she never kissed him. Dean was dying for her to do it, if how quickly he leaned in to connect their lips meant anything as she pushed his face away with a chuckle. She slid out of his lap to lay on her back, her knees bent, tempting him to turn and settle between her legs.

“You’re so mean sometimes,” he grinned, playfully spreading her thighs open when he settled between her legs. She rolled her eyes and grabbed the pillow nearest to her to place it beneath her hips.

“I’m just being as mean as you love me to be,” she smiled triumphantly when he rolled his eyes. The loving smile on his face when he stared down at her made a flurry of butterflies erupt in her chest.

“Heh,” Dean bit his tongue thoughtfully as he smiled boyishly down at her. She lifted a brow at him and pursed her lips. “I guess I do like you mean and bossy.” She rolled her eyes at him and wrapped her fingers around his cock, stroking it up and down slowly. “Yep, just like that, baby,” he encouraged her, his voice gravelly, hot, and a little playful.

It made Y/n’s insides quiver and made a new wave of arousal to drip down her thighs. “You’re so fucking hot,” she whispered breathlessly, guiding his cock to her fluttering hole.

“You look even hotter,” his lips parted as he watched himself slip into her, “taking every inch of me.” Dean rolled his hips forward and back slowly, closing his eyes at the sensation of her walls clinging tightly—hot and wet—around his cock.

“Please, don’t hold back,” she pleaded with every slow roll of his hips pushing his length in and out of her. Dean’s lip quirked up on one side at her request.

“If that’s what you want, ” he murmured, sliding his hands up the back of her warm thighs until the curve of his thumb to his forefinger locked behind her knees to keep her legs open and pressed almost against her chest.

Dean’s hips snapped forward, eliciting a surprised gasp from her. But he didn’t stop, continuing to pound into her as she’d asked of him while she clung tightly to the sheets. The soft cloth twisted in her grasp as Dean knocked the breath from her lungs and the sense from brain, and he adored every breathless moan, every expression filled with ecstasy, the impatient wiggling of her body.

“Fuck,” Dean moaned, “you feel so amazing.”

He brought his thumb into his mouth, coating it generously in his spit before bringing it down to her clit. She whimpered at the combination of pleasure he induced. With her hips angled over the pillow, the soft head of his cock brushed against her g-spot. And when he leaned over her, he touched her so deep she almost fell into the deep white pleasure of her mind.

She cried Dean’s name as heat poured over her skin. Dean’s warm breath fanned over her parted lips before he dropped his head into her neck, fucking into her with desperation.

Now that he was close, she brought her hands to his strong back, sliding her hands over smooth shoulders and firm planes before her nails left hot red marks on freckled skin. Her head pushed deep into the memory foam of Dean’s mattress when she arched her back, her pussy clamping down impossibly tight around him before her climax.

And finally, the powerful force of her orgasm rippled through her body like a volcanic eruption. Her mouth opened in a silent scream and her thighs pressed inside his sides. Body tense and free all at once as pleasure burst through her nerves. Her pussy pulsed around him and her body shook as he pounded erratically into her, his own climax coming soon after.

His hot cum gushed inside her, making her shudder at the heat of it spreading within her. Dean groaned into her shoulder, his hips stuttering before slowing down. She breathed his name into the room, more reverently than a prayer. And Dean mumbled her name, his lips siding across her flushed, shimmering throat.

He laughed softly, muscles moving beneath his skin as he relaxed above her. She embraced him, loosely circling her arms around his neck, her fingers playing with his soft hair at the top. She turned to kiss the side of his face while Dean’s hands moving around her waist.

The relaxation didn’t last as Dean pressed his lips lower and lower, eventually causing her to let him go. His soft cock slipped out of her, but his fingers replaced it to keep his cum inside her. Her pussy closed around his fingers, and she complained quietly.

Dean’s tongue moved around his fingers when his face finally rested between her legs. Carefully, he lapped at her drenched labia and swollen clit. Her fingers seized his hair at the overstimulation, so Dean moved back down to lick her clean around his fingers—keeping his cum inside her.

“Dean,” she whispered, her fingers tracing his cheekbone and jawline. Dean curled his fingers inside her gingerly, as if scooping up their release from inside her, then obscenely began to eat everything that dripped out of her. “Oh, my god,” she whimpered, her legs shutting around his head, shaking from the inability to fully close together.

Dean made his way back up to her lips when he was satisfied, leaving a trail of sticky kisses against her flushed, smooth skin. Before kissing her, he dipped his soiled fingers into her parted lips. She sucked softly, cleaning his fingers momentarily, but Dean urged her mouthed open once more to spit into her whatever he still held.

“Swallow,” he licked his lips, “swallow all of it.”

Dean pulled his fingers from her mouth to let her do it. He watched as she did what he told her and captured her lips with his—devouring, desperate, love inflamed with stardust. His warm tongue dipped between her parted lips, wet and messy, they shared a kiss that made them feel aroused once more.

“What?” She mumbled against his lips, her eyes glistening with playfulness. “Do you want to fill me up some more?” Dean moaned softly, his wet fingers sliding down her sides, then upwards along her arms, teasing, skipping, tickling.

She smirked at him and intertwined her fingers with his own. Dean’s gaze flickered away from her flushed face to the twinkling light that bounced on the rock on her ring. “Usually takes more than one attempt to make a baby,” he mumbled, his voice rumbling and raspy. He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the ring before lavishing her body in more affection.

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#dean’s 45th birthday celebration #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x female!reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fanfiction

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thirdsaltyhunter · 3 months

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Happy Birthday Dean

Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: kissing, implied smut

A/N: quick drabble for Dean's B-day, not proofread all mistakes are my own

Dean's POV

I slowly opened my eyes, waking from the feeling of her lips on mine and the smell of coffee. My eyes met hers and a soft smile spread across her face. She was straddling my waist, hair disheveled from sleep and looking gorgeous as ever.

"Mornin' beautiful"

"Good morning handsome", she said, leaning down for another kiss. "Happy birthday".

"Don't remind me", I groaned.

"Oh come on, I'll make it worth your while", she said kissing her way down my neck and across my bare chest.

"I'm sure you will". I smirked, leaning down to capture her lips again.

She pulled back gently. "I brought breakfast."

I looked over to the empty side of the bed to see a tray of food and coffee that had gone unnoticed until now. I guess I was too entranced in her to see the delectable looking spread that she had brought.

"After we eat I'll give you your first present of the day", she said with an innocent look that held so much implication behind it. She gave a sultry smile, gliding her hand down my torso to confirm exactly what she ment.

"Happy birthday to me"

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #spn #spn fanfiction #dean x reader #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #happy birthday dean winchester #happy birthday dean #dean winchester birthday

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songliili · 3 months

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Title: your body is the Sistine Chapel

Fandom: Supernatural

Rating: Teen and Up

Chapters: 1/1

Words: 3,774

Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural)

Additional Tags: Tattooed Dean Winchester, a journey in dean's life through his tattoos, Growing Up, Canon Related, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Canonical Character Death, Loss, Grief/Mourning, No Major Character Death, Light Angst, Tattoos, tattoos as tributes, Soft Castiel/Dean Winchester

Summary: When Cas dies, again, Dean decides to add some dotwork around it. Close-knit, almost filling in every blank space around the lines confining the original handprint, and gradually fading as they get away from it. Like the rays of the sun radiating from the handprint itself. At the center of all the black ink, Dean’s skin is now pink and a little paler than the rest of his body, but still there’s freckles decorating his shoulder. Angel kisses, someone says. Dean wonders if Cas really did leave kisses all over his body while he rebuilt him, but he doesn’t dare to ask him. Not yet. OR: what would Dean's tattoos be?

Y'ALL. i had this in my wips forever, i'm so happy it's finally out in the world. i am so so so proud of it and i truly hope you enjoy it!

#songliili writes #supernatural #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #deancas #ff #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3fic #ao3 writer #fic writing #tattooed dean #happy birthday dean #happy birthday dean winchester

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iprobablyshipit91 · 1 year

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All That Matters

Genre: angst / romance / mutual pining / fluff

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: A few swears, mentions of torture, injuries, starvation and malnourishment

Written for: Dean’s Rootin’ Tootin’ Rodeo posted by @chocolatecakecas

SPN Masterlist

I’m back again as how could I not try and write something for this beautiful man��s birthday. It’s probably a bit more depressing than I intended but at least it’s happier at the end, promise! I’m a sucker for Protective!Dean 💕

It was 4am and you couldn’t stop pacing. You’d been at it for hours, back and forth across your room, practically carving a path in the unforgiving, cold concrete floor as your anxiety continued to bubble up inside you.

In your head a furious debate continued to rage as you take another glance at the door. You shake out your hands and screw your eyes shut as you desperately try to calm your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth. You know in your heart where you long to be. There’s only one damn place you feel safe anymore. The question is, will you go?

To say the last few months had been hard was the understatement of the century. You’d been on your own for the last year or so, since your surrogate father, Bobby, had been killed by Dick Roman. You could handle a gun and throw a punch, but really your skills were in helping out hunters where you could, studying lore and answering the phones and so you threw yourself into it whole heartedly to fill the gaping chasm in your chest. Of course, this also meant helping the Winchester boys.

You loved those boys like family. You’d grown up together when John had left them with Bobby for weeks at a time. These were the memories you looked back on most fondly. Running around with Sam, Dean joining you when he wasn’t pretending to be too cool for your childish games. The years had passed swiftly until one summer the boys came back and Dean seemed so different. He’d grown taller and filled out, and how could you have never noticed how green those eyes of his were? It was the biggest cliché and yet you fell hopelessly for him that summer. Sam rolled his eyes in disgust but swore diligently to never tell Dean your secret. And then just like that, they were gone again.

It wasn’t until many years later that the boys finally returned. Searching for their father and hunting anything that stood in their path. You helped them with Bobby, but damn it if your heart still didn’t melt at the mere sight of the eldest Winchester.

That was before.

You felt different now. You still loved Dean, how could you not? Your love for him had only grown over the years. However, you were skittish now and just felt so damn tired all the time. Your personality muted into a shadow of what it once was, content to sit and observe your surroundings rather than be the soul of the party as you had once been. Dean knew why. Sam knew why. Hell, everyone knew why and even though everyone told the brothers constantly that it wasn’t their fault, they couldn’t help but shoulder the responsibility. It was the Winchester way after all. It was them the demons were after when they kidnapped you in the dead of night and it was the bunkers location you’d been tortured for weeks for. Until the boys had finally found you, half starved, bruised and bloody, and rescued you.

The road to recovery had been hard. Cas had immediately healed your physical injury’s with a single touch once you were back in the bunker, but you knew it was the mental scars that were going to take the most healing. Flashes of the torture you’d endured haunting you at any given moment and you’d yet to manage more than a few hours sleep without a nightmare. You were still severely malnourished and had only just managed to start eating more than a few mouthfuls at a time.

After spending a week and a half in the bunker recovering under the boys watchful gazes you had gathered your few things together and made your way to the War Room, ready to say your goodbyes, determined not to out stay your welcome. Sure, you would miss the wonderful home cook meals Dean had been constantly preparing, despite you eating very little of them, and the way Dean had held you through the nightmares that had plagued you in those first nights. Waking up screaming until your throat was hoarse.

The look of identical incredulity on their faces when you told them you were heading home had almost been comical. After much debate Dean had simply taken your bags from you and marched you back to your room, insisting that you were staying with them at least until you were fully recovered and then they would talk more. Damn that Winchester guilt, you hated feeling like a burden. It didn’t take a genius to realise that the Winchesters had only invited you to live with them because they felt bad about it all, and you didn’t want to make that any worse. The tiniest part of you couldn’t help to feel relieved though, not really wanting to be alone anymore.

This brought you back to the present. Still marching across your room back and forth as the pent up anxiety slowly built until you felt like you were drowning. Before you’d really even made the conscious decision you were silently slipping out of your room and down the hall to Dean’s room.

You knocked on his door once and heard nothing. After one more try with no response you simply opened up the door and asked, “Dean? Are you awake?”

Before you had time to blink Dean was sat upright in bed, his gun trained on you. Somehow you didn’t even flinch, a part of you expecting this reaction and despite your recent trauma your brain just knew that this was Dean Winchester and he wouldn’t hurt you. You swallowed thickly and watched as he blinked hard, the sleep clearing from his eyes.

“Oh shit, Y/n, I’m so sorry,” the gun was gone in an instant and he was crossing the room to you in an old tee and jogger shorts. He gripped your shoulders quickly, eyes filled with remorse as they scanned over you. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What are you doing here?”

The questions came far too rapidly for you to keep up with but Dean seemed to realise quickly there was no physical injuries but you still held yourself tense in his arms. Your mouth opened and closed wordlessly as you looked up at him, tears brimming in your eyes. It was as if your throat was closing up. Your hands twitched a bit– you just desperately wanted him to hold you right now. To remind you that you weren’t alone. “Can I sleep in here with you?”

“You come to my room and wake me up at God knows what time to cuddle?” Dean asked, a faint amusement colouring his tone now he could see you were physically fine. His eyes adjusted to the dim light and saw how distressed you looked. Very quickly he wrapped his arm around your back and pulled you back to bed with him. Without thinking you firmly tucked your head into his chest and breathed a sigh of relief as his arms wrapped around you and he started rubbed circles into your back. You gripped his shirt tightly in your fists. “It feels like I forgot how to breath...”

“You’re going to be okay.” he spoke softly, his deep voice rumbling in his chest beneath you. Very slowly he took in the sensation of you relaxing underneath his touch. “You’ve got me and Sam. Lots of people who love you and are going to make sure that you’re safe. Always. We’ll take care of you.”

You could feel your mind stumbling and sticking onto one of the things that he said, “Love me?”

Dean sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn’t the time to get into that specifically, he thought. The morning, when you finally got some sleep would be better. “Yeah, Sweetheart. Family who love you.”

Your heart skipped at his statement. How could he still not know how you felt?

Sam did though. He could see the torch you held for his brother as clear as if it was a beacon lighting up the night sky. You felt his watchful gaze on you as you gravitated towards his brother for comfort without thought. Needing him to be close to just make it through the god damn day.

You shifted just enough to nuzzle into his neck. “I love my family too.” He stiffened just a bit under your touch, and you felt Dean let out a very shaky breath. There was more you wanted to talk about, more you wanted to say, but you finally felt so warm and safe that you couldn’t be bothered to worry more about it.

You were surrounded by warmth and Dean’s scent– that gunpowder, leather and oil combination that just made you feel like home. His arms felt nice and sturdy around you, and it was impossible not to become completely relaxed in them.

Dean laid there debating with himself whether to push the subject– but the second he finally got his mouth open to speak he heard your breathing even out.

You’d fallen asleep.

Tomorrow.

You woke up slowly and found yourself in a very different position than when you’d fallen asleep. Half of Dean’s weight was now on top of you as you laid on your back. Apparently both of you tossed and turned while you slept.

With a groan you patted Dean’s cheek a few times to wake him up, only resulting in him nuzzling into your collarbone more, his breath tickling your skin. “Stop waking me up, woman.”

“It’s almost lunch, Dean.” You paused before adding, “You’re also using my chest as a pillow.”

Immediately he sat up from on top of you, his face tinged pink. “Sorry about that Sweetheart”

You snickered and rubbed your eyes as you slowly sat up in bed as well. “It’s alright. We were both asleep.” It was impossible to keep from laughing a little more, as you realised just how bad his bedhead was. Without thinking you reached out and began to fuss with a bit that was really stuck up. “Is this why you spend so much time messing with your hair, Dean?”

“You’re awful sassy to the guy who shared his bed with you last night.”

“Mmm, well you ought to be used to my sass by now Winchester.” you slowly lowered your hand when you noticed his tongue flick over his lips, your stomach doing flips and your heart rate picking up. “Thank you though. I didn’t want to–”

Dean watched as your lips pursed into a thin line, “Didn’t want to what?”

“Look, I know why you two asked me here. I know it’s because you think it’s your fault what happened to me. I don’t want to mess things up for you two more. I hate to be a liability.”

His blood boiled a bit at your words. “We asked you here because you’re our friend, who got hurt protecting us. We worry about you.”

You tried to protest again but he shook his head, “No. You went through something horrific Y/n. You’re still barely touching any food and you’re quiet now, you don’t sleep well! We wanted to make sure you’d be taken care of. That’s why you’re here. Because you took care of us, and now we’re taking care of you.”

Dean sucked in a breath, the rest of his speech dying down in his mouth as he looked at you. He’d had it all planned last night and yet when he looked at you with the dark circles and bags underneath your eyes he hesitated. Not because of you, but because of himself. So what that you still weren’t lit up like you were before Bobby died. You were the woman he loved, the woman he’d gladly die for. But he was poison, hadn’t your recent brush of death confirmed that? Once Dean Winchester decided he loved someone it was as good as placing a target on their back and signing their death warrant. And yet Sam’s words came floating back to him. You love her and you know she feels the same. Life’s too short, Dean. Seize the moment and be happy. Could he really dare to hope that you loved him back.

“Do you want to kiss as badly as I do right now?”

Your eyes went wide as your face snapped up to look at him, “What?” Your brain was reeling, not sure how he’d changed the subject without you knowing.

Dean blushed again, “I’m sorry, god. You don’t… that was terrible. I shouldn’t have asked that. God damn it that’s not a good thing to ask–” you weren’t in a good place, and pushing you about that or asking you things like that could result in you making a choice you weren’t later happy with and Dean didn’t want to do that to you. “I’m sorry. Don’t–”

Very gently, you reached out and cupped Deans cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned in, and you felt Deans hands on your shoulders so softly that you wondered if he was scared of hurting you.

His lips were soft and warm, and the kiss you shared was sweet and chaste. Before everything that had happened you’d day dream about something far more passionate that would have ended in someone getting pinned against something but now it was just good to feel something so gentle.

When you parted you were greeted with a fretful looking Dean, “You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to.” you snickered just a bit, “We’re adults you know– it’s not like when we were twelve and kissing was the most crazy thing you could do with someone.”

He smiled and then nuzzled into your neck and breathed in your scent. “I love you, you know.”

“I love you too.” your hands once more went to his hair and played with the strands as you thought about his words, “But you already knew that didn’t you?”

“I hoped. Wished I’d have said something before.”

To that you shrugged– there were so many possibilities missed that you didn’t see the point in counting them all. “We’ve got it out now. That’s all that matters.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #deansbirthdaybash #January 24th #24th January #Dean winchesters birthday #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn #chocolatecakecas #tw: violence #tw: torture #tw: malnourishment #happy birthday dean winchester #iprobablyshipit91 writes #All That Matters

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prettybillycore · 20 days

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happy birthday blog, I can’t believe how old you are

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violentdelightsproductions · 3 months

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youtube

"There's a light There's a sun Taking all Shattered ones To the place they belong And his love will conquer all..."

A tribute to Dean Winchester. Everything he is. Everything he's ever been. Everything he means to the ones around him. All tge people he touched. The lives he saved. The lives he changed. And all the love and appreciation he deserves.

Happy Birthday Dean Winchester (January 24th)

Find our Dean x Ellie videos here!!! Ellie Spencer is an original character character created by @girlshunttoo - Faceclaim Deborah Ann Woll

Made by @girlshunttoo / @ddriverpicksthemusic

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x oc #happy birthday dean #dean winchester birthday #dean winchester x female oc #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x ellie spencer #deborah ann woll #jensen ackles x deborah ann woll #Youtube #video #birthday #deanwinchesterweek #reupload

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etherealspacejelly · 3 months

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My first ever published fic! This is my contribution to Dean's Birthday Bash 2024 (run by @chocolatecakecas) :)

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) Relationship: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester, Brotherly Love, Pre-Canon, Brotherly Affection, One Shot, Short & Sweet, Mentioned John Winchester, POV Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester's Birthday, Birthday, Birthday Cake

Summary:

When John is away on a hunt for Dean's birthday, Sam tries to cheer him up with a surprise birthday treat.

There is no specific age for Sam and Dean in this one, but I would say Dean is late teens and Sam is early teens. It's generally pretty light and sweet but there is some Very Minor angst for like two seconds. I don't think it is enough to be worth tagging but let's just say John is mentioned.

This is a one-shot, very short and sweet :)

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #birthday party for dean 2024 #deansbirthdaybash #chocolatecakecas #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #supernatural fanfiction

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spnexploration · 1 year

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Happy birthday Dean Winchester! (it's already the 24th in Aus!) Here is quite honestly the siliest thing I've written 🤣

Warnings: None

Word count: 268

“You ok? Dean, are you ok?!” He shook his head, putting his hand to his mouth. He’d been thrown when he was struck by the witch’s spell and looked a bit dazed. The witch had disappeared.

He flapped his mouth, but nothing came out.

Suddenly, words appeared on a little black tape in front of his chest:

I'm ok

What the duck?

I did not say duck

What the shell is going on?!

“Dean, I think you have captions...”

How the shell can I have captains?!

They're not even good captains! Every second weird is frond!

I couldn't help the giggle that burst from my mouth. He glared daggers at me.

Let's find Spam

Even Dean laughed at that one. We went through the building looking for Sam. Dean had to stop trying to call out after I burst into laughter at “SPAMMY” appearing in front of him.

Sam did an absolute double take when he saw Dean's magical captions appear. “What happened?!”

“Dean got hit with a spell, I think the witch had a sense of humour.”

Duck off

“Also he's channeling his inner Ken Behrans.”

Doo?

“Remember that meme from Australia where someone on TV said Canberrans but the caption said Ken Behrans? That's you, right now.”

Dean just glared.

“Alright, I think the witch is gone, let's get back to the bunker and see if we can turn off,” Sam said.

“I dunno, I kinda like him like this,” you said with a smirk.

I toe where you sleep, britches

“Aww, poor baby can't even threaten properly,” I said, patting Dean's shoulder condescendingly. He glowered.

#deansbirthdaybash #chocolatecakecas #dean winchester #dean winchester birthday #january 24 #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester drabble #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fluff #ken behrans #supernatural witch #supernatural x reader #Dean Winchester crack

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aishitara · 3 months

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torturedpoetemotions · 1 year

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So like. It's 7:15am and cold as hell in Lebanon right now. Dean and Cas stayed at the bunker last night at Sam's behest. Dean was planning to sleep in but he just woke up to the sound of music playing somewhere down the hall. He pads sleepily toward his old Dean Cave in pajamas, robe, and fuzzy slippers (the one present Cas let him open at midnight).

He stops in the doorway. Blinks. The room hasn't been changed at all. Well, except for the streamers and confetti covering every surface and the pile of presents in the corner. And except for the fact that everyone he knows and loves is currently yelling SURPRISE and blowing noise makers at him. Cas hands him a cup of coffee as he tries to be surreptitious about wiping away tears.

"Happy birthday, Dean" he says softly in Dean's ear. He's the first person to say it this morning, but he won't be the last. Dean shuffles further into the room, ears and cheeks turning a little pink, to get hugs from everyone and see the cake with his name on it in messy icing letters ("I made it!" Jack explains proudly). It's surreal. It's beautiful. No monsters to fight. No world to save. Just everyone he loves, safe and happy in one room. Everything he ever wanted.

#supernatural #dean winchester #happy birthday dean winchester #happy birthday dean #fanfiction #my writing

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 3 months

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Birthday Pie

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist

SPOILERS! set between seasons 7 and 8 of supernatural, there are spoilers for both these seasons

summary: you celebrate his birthday even when he’s gone

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 0.9k

warnings: sad, not at all a happy birthday for our beloved lil guy, language

author’s note: i’m sorry, okay? i’ve had this idea in my head for months and decided that today is a good day to release it? anyway, happy 45th birthday dean winchester! love you and very glad you’re alive and well and the series finale never happened! :)

January 24th, 2013 — Dean’s 34th Birthday.

You were barely able to drag yourself out of bed and into the living room where you were now seated and watching TV. It didn’t matter what was on, you weren’t paying attention anyway. Your mind was completely focused on Dean. Your beloved Dean; who shouldn’t be wherever the fuck he was but instead safe in your arms.

He shouldn’t be spending his birthday terrified, missing you and his brother. He should be spending it with you, Sam, and Cas.

Sure, he wasn’t really the birthday party type of guy but each year since you met him you’d gotten him a pie and put candles in it for him to blow out. It’d started as a half-assed attempt to put a smile on his face when you learned it was his birthday and you couldn’t find a cake at the store.

He’d loved it.

“How’d you know I’d rather have pie?” he had asked, his face lighting up even more when you put two candles—a two and a four—in the center.

“I…had a feeling.” You had shrugged it off as not a big deal but deep down you both knew how much it meant to him.

And each year since then—come rain, shine, monsters, or the apocalypse—you made it your job to get Dean Winchester a pie on his birthday.

A few tears rolled down your cheeks, joining the half-dried ones there already. You hadn’t been sad on Dean’s birthday since his year before hell. But it was different then, you had him next to you and you were savoring every second. You might have been terrified of what would soon happen, but you were still with him.

“If you’re not already aware, Dean,” Castiel started, “you turn thirty-four today.”

“What?” Dean asked, confused. “Cas we—”

“Granted time seems to be passing differently here, but on earth it is currently your birthday.”

“Happy birthday, brother,” Benny joked.

“Yeah real fuckin’ happy,” Dean scoffed. “We’re stuck killing our way through this fuckin’ nightmare while the love of my life is spending my birthday alone.”

“I’m sure she’s okay, Dean,” Cas assured him. “She has Sam, he’ll look after her until we get back.”

“No, you don’t get it. Birthdays were…they were our thing, if that makes any goddamn sense.”

“Happy birthday, Dean,” you smiled, placing the pie in front of him.

“Twenty-six! God, that sounds old,” Dean laughed a little.

“You’re kidding right?” you asked after singing for him as he blew out the candles.

“What?”

“Twenty six may sound old to you, but trust me you are still fuckin’ adorable.”

“I am, aren’t I?” He grinned.

“You wanna do the honors, cutie?” you asked, handing him the kitchen knife.

“Gladly, sweetheart,” he said, taking it from you. You watched him cut a slice for you then an even bigger slice for himself.

“Dean,” you started as you watched him begin eating the pie. “I love you.”

He stopped eating and looked at you; “What?”

“I know there’s a lot about your life you haven’t told me, you’re lore you could call it, but I need you to know that I really do love you, Dean Winchester.”

“But how? I mean, I’m not exactly an open book and there’s no way…” he trailed off.

“No way, what?”

“There’s no way in hell you’d feel this way if you learned everything about me.”

Your heart broke at his words, and your expression definitely showed it.

“The amount of pure love I have for you is beyond measurable, Dean. And I might be crazy for saying this, and feeling this, but there is truly nothing you could say or do that would make me stop.”

“Really?” he asked quietly, as if he was scared to press his luck.

You nodded with a soft smile; “Really.”

“Well, look I’m not really one for…that…but I do…I do feel that way about you too. I guess what I’m saying is, uh, right back at cha?”

“See to any normal person that would sound like the ramblings of a crazy man,” you said, his smile only growing. “But to me? Absolute poetry.” You leaned over and kissed him. “Happy birthday, Dean.”

He simply kissed you back, smiling against your lips.

“Happy birthday, Dean,” you whispered, blowing out the candles on the small pie you’d bought. It was a one-person pie because you knew if you bought a regular one that at least three-quarters would not have been eaten.

You took out the candles and picked up your fork. Staring down at the desert, you let more tears fall.

“It shouldn’t be this hard to eat a fuckin’ pie,” you laughed humorously. Your phone rang next to you and you answered it; “Hey, Sam.”

“Hey,” he sighed. “I just wanted to call and check up on you. It being Dean’s birthday and all, I figured you might…you know…”

“Be huddled up in bed sobbing my eyes out?” you said.

“Yeah…”

“I’m holding it together Sammy, don’t worry about me,” you assured him.

“I always worry about you, you know that.”

There was a short pause in the conversation as you took a deep breath and let a few more tears fall; “I miss him, Sammy,” you admitted. “I just really miss him.”

#dean winchester x reader #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean #supernatural #spn #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester birthday #happy birthday dean winchester

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deanbrainrotwritings · 4 months

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— SWORDS, DRAGONS, AND DIET COKE

SUMMARY : Halloween dressed as the Scooby gang… her dressed as Daphne… things can only go right from there.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : castiel, charlie bradbury, joan carlisle (ofc)

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), oral sex, unprotected sex (barf), fingering, p in v, pussy spanking, violence, anger issues, implied trauma 👍🏻, ghost possession

WORD COUNT : 4.7k

A/N : the devil wears prada song title. also, how come women look hot when they cosplay male characters, but men don’t look hot when they cosplay female characters??? EXPLAIN! SOMEONE, PLEASE!!! Or change my mind ;) XXXXXX

“So we all agree that we look ridiculous?” Y/n asked with a smile as they stepped into the loud and crowded frat house.

“Cas and I, do,” Dean leaned down to say close to her ear. “You, Charlie, and Joan, don’t.” He circled his arm around her waist, fingers trailing across her jawline to turn her face towards his. He gave her a sweet kiss and moved her dyed hair over her shoulder.

She returned the kiss with a smile, turning her body to face him fully as he slid his hand down from the back of her shoulder to her ass. She wrapped her arms around his neck, opening her mouth to slip her tongue into his mouth. He squeezed the supple flesh of her ass and she moaned, threading her fingers through his soft hair.

“Alright, Fred and Daphne, we get it: you’re in love,” Joan giggled, taking Y/n’s waist to pull her away from Dean.

“That’s fine,” Dean shrugged playfully, letting his girlfriend go while he tugged at the ascot around his neck, “we’ve got a mystery to solve.” Charlie snorted and gave Dean a hard smack across his back that only made him pout.

“Well, technically, yes,” Joan laughed. “Listen, I don’t know if the ghost will come out tonight or not. But I’m glad you guys are here,” she smiled at the group and squeezed Y/n’s waist before letting her go. “Obviously, there’s been sightings in the basement, boring, but sometimes it’s appeared on the second floor, or the attic,” Joan explained, fixing her glasses on her nose.

“Woah, Miss Carlisle,” two guys passed by wolf-whistled and looked at Joan disrespectfully, eyes trailing over long orange socks against dark skin, a tiny pleated skirt, and a tight ribbed turtleneck—also in a shade of orange. They only glanced at her face to smirk smugly as if her deadpan expression meant they won.

“Douchebags,” Dean grunted, glaring at the arrogant boys.

“So, how should we split up?” Charlie grinned, trying to remove their focus from the immature men. They all looked back at her, became relaxed, then looked towards Dean and Y/n.

“Well, I could check out the second floor and Dean can check the attic,” she suggested, to which Dean chewed his lip and nodded in agreement.

“Naturally, Shaggy and Scoob stick together, so, uh, Charlie and Cas, you two take the basement,” Dean smiled boyishly at the two, and Cas rolled his eyes, sighing. Charlie laughed and punched Cas’ shoulder gently, causing Cas to smile slightly.

“Right, I’ll stay here, then,” Joan smiled, then gave her old friend, Y/n a slap on the ass. Y/n giggled, and rubbed the spot, hardly feeling a sting.

“We’ll meet here again after?” Cas asked, they all nodded in agreement, then both Charlie and Cas started making their way through the house to get downstairs. Cas tugged at the neck of the costume with a deep frown.

Dean reached out for Y/n’s elbow and slid his fingers down her arm to hold her hand. Joan stopped her, giving her a half-hug before Dean could drag her away to do their job. “Hey, let’s catch up later, you look so happy now, and also, your boyfriend’s hot,” Joan laughed softly, giving her friend a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“Sure, Jay, maybe once the case is done we can all hang out,” she smiled, hugging her friend back. “It’s sort of our thing to go to the local bars. That sound good?” Joan nodded, squealing excitedly, and stepped away.

Dean smiled at Joan then tugged Y/n towards him—her quiet laughter making him warm. She smiled up at him and let him place his arm over her shoulders to kiss the top of her head. Y/n circled his waist with her arm and clenched the side of his white long-sleeved shirt as they walked upstairs.

Students drank along the stairs, talking, and laughing with their friends. Properly having fun. There were two friends dressed as Arthur and Merlin, which was cute, and Dean started with interest at the sword sheathed into the leather belt around his hips.

“I’m kinda hungry, is that weird?” Dean pouted, releasing her so she could walk up the stairs without complications. Their fingertips still touched, their forefingers hooked together, and back he went to holding her once they got to the top of the stairs.

“Not really, it’s cute,” she smiled, then shivered, either a ghost or the wintry breeze that chilled houses. “Maybe we can find food or snacks here,” she suggested, pulling him close to absorb his heat before he left her to check out the attic.

“You should’ve brought a jacket,” he scolded gently, then playfully squeezed her breast. “I’ll try to keep you warm while you walk me to the attic,” he told her playfully. She smiled and rolled her eyes, then pushed him into the nearest wall. Dean smirked at her, and dropped his hand from her chest, but she grabbed both his wrists to place his hands over both breasts.

“A jacket will ruin my costume, I look great,” she argued jokingly, pressing herself against him. Dean lowered his hands a little, enough to cup the bottom over her breasts while he brushed his thumbs over her pebbled nipples. No bra beneath the soft, violet dress she wore.

“Yeah, you… look super hot as Daphne,” Dean breathed out, licking his bottom lip before biting it. “Fuck…” he muttered, his head thumping against the wall when he tipped it back, dropping his hands from her breast to hold her hips.

“Let’s get this case over with,” she smiled, pushing against his chest to step away. He whined, digging his fingers hard into her hips to bring her back in, and dropped a kiss to her glossed, pink lips—staining his own.

“Okay, I’ll, uh, leave now,” Dean smiled, and licked his mouth to taste her gloss. She laughed softly and shook her head, fixing the ascot around his neck by placing it back beneath the sky blue polo shirt. “Yummy lip stuff, by the way,” he teased, reaching down to tug her dress down as it crinkled slightly at her hips.

“Lip stuff,” she repeated with a cute cackle, appreciative of the way he distractedly fixed her dress. “I love you—a lot,” she sighed happily, patting his now-flushed cheeks.

“Me, uh,” Dean stuttered, “I love you, too. A lot,” he added, watching her smirk and slowly walk away from him. She waved at him and turned around to start knocking on doors.

“If you’re an FBI agent, how come you’re dressed like Daphne?” She pushed past the irritating guy dressed as Tarzan, ignoring him as she looked around the room that he shared with a friend. “And how come you’re not arresting us? We’re doing drugs and drinking, not all of us are twenty-one,” he told her.

She could feel him behind her, and she rolled her eyes, squatting down carefully to not reveal anything as she searched for anything suspicious, pulling out the EMF detector from her small purse.

“You’ve never heard of undercover then?” She asked sarcastically, getting up to search the rest of his room. According to him, it suddenly gets colder than usual, he hears weird sounds, he’s heard voices—the typical signs of a haunting. “And the focus on the case isn’t underage drinking or drug usage, it’s… there’s a killer,” she hesitated to share information, but he’s attached himself to her—well, much like this irritating ghost has attached itself to this frat house.

“Wow, that’s dope,” he burped drunkenly, which irritated her more.

“I don’t know if I'd call my friends dying dope, but, whatever,” she muttered, hiding the EMF detector as she turned towards the closet.

“You’re hot, smart, and badass, like actual Daphne. T-that’s why you’re dressed like her, right?” He asked, hiccuping before taking another—large—gulp of alcohol, straight from the bottle.

“You shouldn’t drink too much, it’s going to be awful in the morning,” she warned, avoiding his question as she went into the bathroom. She heard him follow, and sighed, putting the EMF detector away into her purse once more.

“Aw, so you do care about me,” he smiled lopsidedly, cheeks flushed with drunkenness. She smiled sarcastically, then glared at him. “I kinda like older women, ya know?” She blinked at him in bewilderment, watching him stumble towards her, but she backed up rather than helped out. “That’s why I let you in an-and said yes to… everything you asked me,” he grinned, setting the alcohol down on the counter, but it slipped and shattered on the floor. “Whoops.” She narrowed her eyes at him, and scoffed, her jaw clenching angrily. She stomped out while he became distracted by the loss of his spirits.

“Woah, hey,” he jogged towards her, taking her arm. She pulled away from him, anger burning bright in her chest. “We haven’t even-”

“Get lost, kid, I’m not interested,” she interrupted him.

“I’m not a kid, I’m turning twenty one this semester,” he told her smugly, reaching out to brush her hair much like Dean had earlier, except this time she didn’t like it. Immaturely, she pushed it forward again, and rolled her eyes. “Come on, Tarzan needs Jane,” he tried flirtatiously, but she turned around, and swung the door open, ready to leave.

“Well, good thing I’m Daphne and I’ve already got Fred,” she spat, leaving him in the room alone, “I’m gonna get to work now, kid.”

“All the pretty girls lie about having boyfriends,” he slurred, leaning against the doorway. She grimaced at his words, she didn’t think he could make her cringe more than she already was. Maybe someone could make her vomit without being physically nauseating? That would be impressive.

“Maybe take a hint and leave women alone,” she told him, but fished for her phone in her purse to call Dean. Still, Tarzan rolled his eyes at her, and boredly watched her put her phone to her ear. It rang halfway when Dean answered with a gruff, ‘sweetheart’ that made her insides warm and delighted. “Hi, babe, I’m upstairs and Tarzan here doesn’t know what ‘no’ means. Please, come save him, I love you.”

She didn’t hang up when she heard wood break, and Dean swore, “son of a bitch.” She was about to ask if he was okay, when Tarzan grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him, her palms landing on his sweaty, flushed, somewhat hairy chest.

“Gross, let me-”

“Uh, what?” Dean asked, then she heard his boots, and more thumping as she struggled to get out of Tarzan’s rough hold. “Babe, okay, I’ll be there, love you,” he said quickly, but he also didn’t hang up. She knew he probably had his phone pressed to his ear by his shoulder.

“Save me?” Tarzan laughed, spinning her so she’d enter his room once more. She got angrier the more he manhandled her.

“Yeah, you gonna back off? My boyfriend’s on his way, and you’re drunk, don’t do something stupid,” she tried to deescalate without violence.

“You were looking at me and you smiled,” he reasoned, lamley. She looked up at him in disbelief, his irritating icy ice and dirty blonde hair, pimples placed here and there.

“I.. What? That means you have a free pass into my pants now, regardless of what I say? Wow, I forgot guys like you were real. At least I won’t regret this,” she snarled, slamming his nose with her forehead.

Finally, he loosened his grip on her, and she stumbled back, rubbing her forehead. It definitely hurt him more than it hurt her. He shouted a loud ‘fuck’ and held his nose as it bled, warm, thick red dripping between his fingers.

When he started toward her, her eyes widened, and she grimaced at the thought of his blood getting anywhere near her. “No,” she warned him, as if he were a child.

She quickly moved around him and kicked him, white ankle boots striking his lower back, causing him to trip forward through the door. She heard gasps, but she stepped closer to him, her heart beating fast, but her mind, bread, and movements remained serene. He turned over into his back, looked around at all the people dressed up and watching, too drunk to even think properly.

Finally, there was that cold chill. She became distracted by the visible puff of white air passing from between her lips, but when he tried to kick her, she jumped back before he could succeed, chuckling darkly. When he gave up, she got down anyway, and straddled his lap punching him once, or twice, or more than that.

She stopped only when she felt warm fingers around her wrist after who knows how long. A mouthwatering, unsavoury saltiness in her mouth made her splutter. She unclenched her fist, whining at the pain she felt when she stretched her fingers out.

She looked up and saw Dean’s worried face. He simpered when he saw her, wiped her mouth carefully of salt as she blinked up at him. He helped her up, when she tried to do it alone, and she finally looked around, confused. Joan was helping Tarzan up, Cas and Charlie were telling people to get out of the second floor.

“Hey, how ya feelin’, baby?” Dean asked, pulling her attention away from the people dressed up in silly clothes. He held her face gently, wiping remnants of salt from her mouth that she now began to taste strongly. She pulled away from him and ran to the bathroom to spit out the tiny, unpleasant grains, her face pulled up in distaste.

She rinsed it out of her mouth with water from the sink and saw the blood flowing from her hand. Dean appeared once more, took her hand out from the running water, and guided her back into the room, to sit her down on the nearest desk.

“Tell me you’re okay,” he whispered, brushing his thumb gently over her forehead.

“I’m fine, just… confused,” she reassured him with a weak smile, taking his hand away to kiss his knuckles with wet lips. “Also that much salt is gross, we should stop shoving salt up people’s mouths,” she added with a laugh. He chuckled, too, and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“I’m gonna find some stuff to clean your hand, uh, I’ll be quick,” he told her, waiting until she nodded. Still, he was worried, so he hesitated to remove himself from her presence. “Want me to stay? I can call Cas up-”

“It’s fine, I like it when you take care of me,” she smiled at him, and mimicked the tip-of-the-nose kiss he gave to her. Dean hummed in amusement and nodded, whispering a little ‘ok’ before heading into the bathroom to search for the first-aid kit.

She held her head with her slightly-more-okay hand, realising just how painful that headbutt actually was now that the adrenaline died down. And her hands, they hurt so bad. They were covered in what was now dried blood and she frowned, Cas was gonna have to heal that later. When she was finally relaxed and able to breathe.

She talked herself down in her mind. Whatever she did was not her fault. She was obviously possessed and while she was furious because of his behaviour, she would have left as soon as he was on the floor. Sure, the intention was there, but who knows what state she left Tarzan in. As horrible and irritating as he was, she wasn’t like him. How stupid of her to feel bad.

“Babe,” Dean called softly and she averted her abstracted gaze back to him. “Hey, take this,” he offered, a pill and a water bottle in his hand. She didn’t even notice him.

“Thanks,” she murmured, but he pushed the pill into her mouth goodnaturedly, which made her chuckle. She took the bottle when he handed it to her, and watched him lovingly take her other hand to inspect it, before focusing on her face once more.

She downed half the bottle and panted, pleased with the cool liquid travelling down her insides. He lifted his other hand up to her face and gently pressed a finger against her forehead.

“Headbutt?” Dean asked with a smile, she nodded, and watched him take an alcohol wipe out from its square package. He gently cleaned her slightly-bruised forehead, and despite knowing it was making it unsanitary again, he blew air against her forehead to get it dry faster. Her eyes shut instantly, and she laughed, then felt his lips push against the same spot.

“Mm, feels a lot better now,” she hummed, leaning against his lingering mouth.

“Yeah, I bet,” he mumbled against her forehead with a grin. Dean pulled away and gave her a soft kiss on the lips before tending to her hands quietly.

He gave her time to process, he didn’t push for answers with a dozen questions, he didn’t bring up the case. Instead, he made her laugh, and he kissed her sweetly, and he caressed her tenderly. Even after he was finished, he threw everything out, made sure she knew he was there, that she was safe.

He sat with her and held her.

“Well, I think I know what brings the ghost out,” she started, playing with his sleeves.

“Yeah? Well, there was nothing in the attic,” he added. Dean watched her closely, she could feel his gaze, the worried shapes he drew on her thigh. It made her shiver. His proximity, the sudden downturn of emotions, his loving nature, all of it was overwhelming. In a good way. “I love you,” he said suddenly, it made her smile.

“I love you, too,” she responded, looking up at him lovingly.

What started out as an innocent, emotional kiss, turned into a possessive, heated make out session that left her seamless panties drenched with arousal.

Dean was everywhere.

So hot. So loving.

His large hands kneaded and squeezed, pulled and scratched, pink lips kissing hard and wet at her skin, sharp teeth nipping and marking, tongue licking and rubbing against suction marks.

“I never knew that I could want someone so badly,” he whispered, lowering her from the desk to shove her violet dress up her waist. She moaned softly, throwing her head back as he sucked and bit at her throat, his fingers slipping inside her panties, moving forward behind the silky barrier to gather her slick. “So wet, good girl,” he murmured, pressing his fingertips into her clenching, wet entrance. He moved his fingers up to her clit and drew circles around it at just the perfect pace, successfully clouding her mind.

Dean pulled away from the column of her throat, eying the reddish mark on her pulse, and watched her writhe as he massaged her clit relentlessly. She felt his teeth at her chin and she groaned, spreading her legs wider, desperate to feel him all over her body. She felt the quick buildup of her orgasm. Dean wasn’t teasing, he was determined, occasionally switching the figures on her clit, each time it made her tremble, until she tensed up.

It was then that he pulled away, the material of her underwear slapping electrifyingly against her skin. “Please,” she begged, opening her eyes lazily. Dean smirked and bit his lip, taking her underwear from beneath, he stretched it upwards, moved it up and down, so the silky material rubbed against her clit.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He asked with a chuckle, watching her mouth fall open and her body turn to mush once more. It must have been enough for him—as an answer—because he released her underwear, started to push them down her legs, and settled on his knees in front of her. He lifted her legs, one after the other, to take her underwear off completely. Dean lifted the periwinkle panties up to his mouth and licked her arousal from the crotch with a smug, “yummy.”

“Stop, we’re wasting time,” she laughed breathlessly, brushing her fingers through his hair. Instead of getting up, Dean took her thigh and lifted it, moving his face forward to tease her clit with the tip of his tongue. “Oh, fuck,” she gasped, her nails scratching the top of the smooth, wooden desk. She slowly sat up on it and watched Dean shuffle closer on his knees to taste her again.

“You taste so good,” he whispered, sliding his hands up her thighs. She leaned back slightly, watching his mouth inch closer, his warm breath making her shiver, and become aware of how embarrassingly drenched she was. He held her hips and slid the tip of his tongue from her entrance, through her labia, and began circling around her clit a few times.

She squirmed and moaned, watching him start to suck her clit—hot, muffled sounds of appreciation vibrating through her vulva from his mouth. Slowly, one of his hands travelled from her hip to her abdomen, sliding down with the intent to make her impatient, and then, he pulled away, replacing her clit in his mouth with two of his fingers. He sucked slowly, and pulled them out, coated in his warm saliva to push them into her waiting vagina.

Dean returned his mouth to her clit, focusing on her pleasure, doing everything the way he’d memorised she loved most. He angled his fingers upwards inside her, pushing deeper and deeper, brushing against the front of her walls. She clenched around him, squirmed needily, and impatiently rolled her hips against his mouth as he massaged deep inside her.

She moaned his name and tugged at his hair, her body slowly turning stiff and ready for her climax. He pulled away again. His lips made a wet, salacious sound when they parted from her cunt, and he slowly pulled his fingers out of her pussy. She breathed hard, watching him suck his soppy fingers clean of her slick with a moan. He used his other hand to busy himself with his belt as he stood before her once more.

She took his wrist to pull his fingers from his mouth with a loud slurp and placed them into hers. She sucked softly on them and stared at the slack-jawed expression while moving her hand beneath his shirts and into his unzipped pants. Dean removed his fingers from inside her warm mouth and held her cheek, moaning against her lips when she teasingly rubbed her soft hand over his cock.

“I need you inside me,” she whispered, wrapping her fingers around his thick cock, warm and hard in her hand. Dean moaned softly and nodded mindlessly, capturing her lips for a quick kiss.

“Where inside you?” He purred, teasingly brushing his nose against hers, his warm breath tickling her lips. She laughed softly instead of answering him, pushed his jeans and boxers down, slowly sinking down to her knees in front of him. “I guess that answers my question,” he exhaled, slipping his fingers through her hair.

She looked up into his eyes and let him bring her mouth towards his cock. The tip brushed against her lips, smearing the precum that dribbled out from the slit against her pink lips. She opened her mouth more, letting him guide her on and off his dick. She hummed at the taste of him invading her taste buds, the way it always did, making her mouth water.

He liked how messy it got when she went down on him. She knew the way she drooled over his thick length set a fire of passion and desire that would make the Sun envious. When tears fell from her eyes across her flushed cheeks, her lashes sticking together, her eyes bright and glossy as she choked on him—he gripped her ginger hair harder and properly began fucking her face.

Fast and loud, his cock went down her throat and in and out of her salivating mouth, edging himself the way he’d done to her. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” Dean praised, starting to slow down throating fucking her until he eventually pulled out of her mouth. A string of saliva and precum connected her mouth and his cock, breaking away when she stood back up.

He brought her in for a kiss with a smug smirk, lewdly licking her lips for remnants of him before pushing his warm tongue past her swollen lips. They moaned softly and she buried both hands into his hair, her hands flexing before gripping strands of his hair to tug at. “We’re wasting time,” she reminded him, pecking his lips before sitting back up on the desk, using her calves to bring his hips forward.

“I hope we waste a lot of time,” he licked his lips with a grin. Dean teasingly took his cock and gently tapped her clit with the head of it.

She laughed breathlessly, squirming when he dragged his cock through her soaked folds, “that’s not funny.”

“Well, it made you laugh,” he bit his lip, pressing his cock into her clenching, dripping pussy.

“Your… face is funny, that’s why,” she lied playfully, his lips hovering over hers. He chortled and pulled back slightly, brows furrowed in playful offence, then he slapped his hand over her clit without warning. She yelped, and attempted to shut her legs, but Dean’s hips prevented her from doing so.

“Come ‘ere, baby,” he whispered, guiding his cock back to her entrance. He cut off her playful protest with a kiss, and gently pushed himself into, digging his blunt nails into her hips. She placed her arm around his shoulder to prevent him from pulling away from her lips, only momentarily catching their breaths as he started to fuck her with abandon.

Items on the desk rattled as he fucked her hard, the wooden table hitting the wall with every thrust of his hips. Her stomach flipped excitedly, his soft moans against her mouth, small whines from her against his. Dean occasionally bit her lip and kissed her with passion as they clung to each other, pulling each other close, desperate to get closer.

Their warm breaths mingled together and she rolled her hips against his, her face burning with a blush, her pussy clenching tight around him. He grunted against her lip and buried his face into her neck, pushing his cock as deep as he could into her. His hot cum spilled inside her and she moaned in unison with him, her orgasm triggered by his.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped, fucking her through her orgasm before coming to a slow halt. Her neck was damp with his warm breath, her hot skin flushing a deeper rosy colour when she whimpered his name.

“Thanks, Dean,” she murmured, kissing his temple before he pulled away. He smiled at her, his green eyes lovingly trailing over her face. He cupped her cheeks, pressing a lovingly kiss to her lips, the tip of her nose, and her forehead. “It’s kinda suspicious how long we took, isn’t it?” She laughed, biting her lip to muffle her moan when he slowly pulled out of her.

“Yeah, uh, pretty much,” he chuckled, pulling his pants up. She watched him with her legs squeezed shut, the flushed afterglow on his face was more than obvious.

“Oh well,” she shrugged, taking her underwear from the desk. Dean snatched them from her with narrowed eyes and got down to put them back on her. “Let’s go before it gets weirder,” she giggled, moving off the desk to fix her underwear properly. Dean nodded and lowered her dress once more, staring at her with a smirk when she began squirming as she walked.

“You don’t wanna clean up?” He laughed, slapping his hand over her ass when he joined her. He squeezed the flesh and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

“We can shower back at the motel,” she shrugged, squeaking when he turned her around and threw her over his shoulder faster than she could process. She laughed with him, clinging to his shirt as he held her with one arm around her, the other hand squeezing her thigh reassuringly.

“Let’s get outta here fast, then,” Dean smiled, slapping her ass. “Wait, I need to say… I finally got to fuck Daphne.”

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