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#spn fluff bingo
samisadeangirl · 1 year
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Chapters: 1/1
Words: 4172
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Challenge:  Now It’s Perfect
SPN Fluff Bingo Square Fill:  Afterlife AU
Rating: Teen
Summary:   Sam and Dean are finally reunited on that bridge in Heaven, and after they find their eternal home, Sam shares what his life had been like all those years while he'd done his best to keep his promise to his brother . . .
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Naive
Jensen Ackles Masterlist
Summary: It’s your first acting role. So, of course you make mistakes. Of course, you’re stressed and freeze when it’s time to do the sexy scene. It’s not your fault if biting your fingers and playing with your hair are your methods of stress relief. No matter what you do, the director always seem upset with you. You have no idea why until he asks you to meet on set way after shooting for a… private lesson.
Pairing: Jensen x F!Reader
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 7131
Warning: Smut, p in v, unprotected sex, grinding, sexual tension, unprofessional relationship, naive!reader, dom!Jensen, director!Jensen, semi public sex
Squares: Jensen Ackles for @anyfandomkinkbingo / Shyness/innocence for @j3bingo / New Job for @anyfandomfluffbingo / Grinding for @spnkinkevents
A/n: Hello hello! So this fic is born from the pic below (the one on the left) and a conversation I had with @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior! Thank you for sharing ideas with me and for being the beta to this fic!! Header made by me with pics from instagram and from the EW!
Don’t forget to leave a feedback! It’s what makes writer want to keep writing!
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“Cut!”
In the room, a common sigh of frustration echoed. The little red light disappeared on the cameras as the people behind them stopped recording. Everyone on set, including the actors and the staff, stopped working and stared at the reason why they were interrupted again.
Not totally understanding what was happening and why everyone was looking at you, with rather annoyed expressions, you turned your attention to the director that just called for the cut. 
“Why are we stopping?” Playing nervously with a lock of hair, you left your mark and walked towards the blinding lights of the spots that were pointed at you. Most of the crew, including him, were sitting behind them. You just wanted to see his expression, just wanted to make sure the cut wasn’t because of you, just wanted to be sure-
“Don’t move from your mark. How many times do I have to say this?” The director hissed between his teeth. 
Freezing completely, you finally understood why the scene had been cut and that it had indeed been your fault. You walked back to your spot, quiet apologies falling from your lips and your head bent, feeling tears burn your eyes. It was your fault, again. 
“Alright. Y/n. We talked about this. We even changed the dialogue so it’s easier for you. So why are you still messing it up?” Your director asked, frustration evident.
“I-” You started, but luckily, you didn’t have to defend your case. Your co-star, Jacob, stepped forward, abandoning his mark as well. The director didn’t scold him for that though. 
“I don’t understand why we stopped again, the scene was going nicely,” he said, and you looked at him with teary eyes.
“First of all, I didn’t ask for your opinion.” The director responded.
You could just make out some movement in front of you, but you couldn’t really see anything because of the blinding spotlights. But in the end, you didn’t have to strain to see him, because your director walked up to where you were standing. The lights were now behind him, throwing him into silhouette. You blinked a couple of times, and squinted slightly to try and see him clearly. It wasn’t easy, but you finally managed…and immediately regretted it.
Not only was he scary, but he…somehow that scariness was also remarkably hot. You didn’t want to make him angry, but when he was…wow! Which made things so much more complicated and messed up.
“It’s her first role,” your co-star continued in your defense. But one glance from the director and his mouth was shut. “Sorry mister Ackles.” He demurred, and then, your would-be savior was back on his mark, leaving you alone in front of the director, Jensen Ackles.
“I’m sorry,” you repeated, now biting your finger. It was all you could do - apologize for messing up all the time.
“Being sorry is not enough,” he walked even closer to where you were, and since you didn’t want to move from your mark, and make him angrier, he was quickly crowded into your personal space. His scent filled your senses and you felt yourself go weak, especially in the knees. You chewed on your finger harder. 
“You have talent, Y/n, but you are not focused,” he tapped your forehead which made you wince and blink. When you opened your eyes again, it was to plunge them into his gaze, and you regretted looking him in the eyes. In the darkness, his eyes looked almost black, even though you knew they were really the most gorgeous shade of green. 
“Don’t make me regret hiring you.”
It wasn’t really a threat, it was more of an effort to push you in the right direction. After all the scenes you’d already filmed, Jensen couldn’t fire you. It would cost too much to replace you at this point. You knew that, but still, hearing the words from him, the man you looked up to, the man you thought was so talented, so beautiful and so intimidating…well, it hurt. 
Feeling your eyes fill with tears again, you bent your head and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Alright. Now, we’ll do it once more. I want to feel desire between you and Jacob. You are his mistress, you missed him and you don’t have a lot of time with him before his wife gets back. It has to be passionate, rushed, you don’t have time to waste talking about the situation. I want to feel how much you need him.” 
You nodded again, trying hard to focus back to the scene, but then your gaze caught something. Still looking down, you had a good view on Jensen’s lower body. And next to his clenched fists, you were sure there was a bump forming in his jeans, a rather noticeable bulge stretching out the denim in his crotch.
You immediately looked away, afraid he would realize that you saw it, but then you were left staring at his hands again. You could see the veins that were protruding up his arms to his elbows where he had rolled up his sleeves, and they were hypnotizing. 
“Let’s roll.”
There was a very good reason why you were having so much trouble with the scene. And a big part of that reason was the director was making you incredibly horny, so that all you kept thinking about was him watching you make out with your co-star. 
You fumbled the scene again.
“Cut!”
Long sighs and even grunts echoed this time.
“That’s it. We’re taking a break.” Jensen’s voice was so rough, it sent shivers down your spine. This time, you knew it was your fault. You’d managed to kiss Jacob like you were meant to, with a burning passion. But then, when it was time to undress yourself…you froze.
You knew it was ridiculous, you weren’t really going to be naked. There were special items you were wearing for the sex scene. Nothing would be on display, your breasts were covered and you were keeping your underwear on. But the simple act of removing your shirt while he was watching was just too much; you couldn’t do it.
“I’m sorry,” you rushed to say, but Jensen was already gone.
You sighed deeply, wishing you could explain to him. There was also a very good reason why you were so shy and uncomfortable with intimate scenes. 
You’d dated someone before. Once. One boyfriend in your whole life. You weren’t a virgin, but your only experience of sex had been disastrous and awful. Your boyfriend had managed to make you feel so bad during your time together, so ugly and repulsive that you’d never again shown desire or interest for another man out of fear of feeling that pain again. 
And, it seemed, even if it was all fake for a movie, it was still very hard to get past. But you couldn’t tell your director all of that; it was too hard to say it out loud. 
When he chose to direct the movie, Jensen wanted to make sure he had the perfect lead actress for it. The auditions took way more time than they’d planned; he had looked and looked, calling back the women he thought weren’t too bad and might work, but none of them were right, and soon there was no one left to audition. 
That was when he saw you.
You weren’t even auditioning for the role; you weren’t even an actress! You were working behind the cameras, in the sound department, to be precise. Your job was to make sure the mics and mic packs were working. You had to get to the studio ahead of the others and set up the rooms before the auditions. You tested the speakers and the mics, to be sure everything was working properly, before connecting everything into your console so you could properly record the screen tests. 
One day Jensen was early and he got a glimpse of you working, and out of nowhere, walked over to you and gave you a script. 
“Try it.” He said simply, with a soft smile.
You thought it was a joke, so you played along and read the script. You knew who Jensen Ackles was, of course, you were quite the fan. So part of you also wanted to impress him, and well…the motivation to impress must have worked, because the next thing you knew, you were cast in the leading role.
Your first role. You were completely new to the acting industry. And your new job was way more stressful than you could have imagined when you accepted it excitedly.
When you met him, Jensen was a nice guy. Patient. Encouraging. But as the spicier scenes arrived, something changed. They stressed you out, you felt like he was watching your every move, and you didn’t know if you wanted to cry, hide, run away from him or literally just grab hold of him and start making out with him. 
Of course he was disappointed. He spent so much time, money and energy on you, and now you were messing everything up.
And you couldn’t even look him in the eye to say sorry.
After the break, Jensen came back and sat back in his director’s chair. He was wearing a baseball hat now, and it shaded his eyes, making his features look even more dominant. Another shiver ran over your whole body as you pictured him in the love scene instead of Jacob. There was nothing wrong with Jacob, he was cute. But you wondered…if you pictured Jensen with you in the scene when the cameras were rolling, would that make things easier, smoother? 
It was worth a try. 
You were back on your mark before he even had the time to call the scene. You were more than ready to show him it had been a good idea to hire you. You glanced in his direction, waiting for him to say action.
“We’re skipping this scene, it doesn’t work at all.” Jensen said brusquely.
You felt a sharp pain in your gut and immediately started chewing on your bottom lip. Of course. Because of you, he now had to change the whole scene. 
“Let’s go to act 2, scene 4.”
Filming went okay for the rest of the day. You messed up a couple of other takes and had to redo it, but luckily, your fellow cast members were kind and patient. Still, you couldn’t get Jensen’s sharp voice, telling you to stop messing up the scenes, out of your head. Even now that you were in your trailer, long after shooting was over, you could still hear it echo. 
Filming had lasted until the sun was down, and then you did a few night shoot scenes, and work was over.
Laying down on the bed in your trailer, you chewed absently on your lollipop as you read the script over and over again. By now, you knew it all by heart. All you had to do was to feel it, show it, like it was real. Closing your eyes, you imagined your co-star in front of you. You reached out a hand, like he was really with you, and slowly stroked his cheek. 
“She can’t know you’re here.”
Your thumb caresses lower on his face until it reaches his lips. There, you look, stare, want more, so you slip your thumb through his parted lips.
“She won’t if we’re quick,” you whisper, your face getting closer. It’s warm, his breath on your face, and a small smile stretches your lips. 
You can see Jacob’s brown eyes and curly hair in front of you. You blink, your thumb leaves his mouth to be replaced by your lips. There, the kiss starts slowly, like you want to explore his mouth, get familiar with its shape, tastes and feel.
But quickly, his hands get lost on your body, he grabs your waist, pulls you closer to him. Your lips part, you breathe in the same air as him, and your tongue pokes in. You know you’re not supposed to kiss with tongue, it’s an unspoken rule in the movie industry. But the kiss needs to be passionate, and Jacob doesn’t seem to mind as he kisses back the same. Then, everything speeds up. You get pinned to the wall forcefully, and a soft gasp leaves your mouth as he steps back. You blink.
Jacob’s brown eyes are now a dark green, almost black. His curly hair is no more, it’s now straight, short, but long enough to be tossed to the side and pulled if necessary. And instead of a hairless chin, there’s a delicious copper color scruff on the lower part of his face.
“Jensen…” You can’t help but moan, all air exiting your lungs.
That was when your phone decided to ring, bringing you back to reality. Startled, you sat up quickly and looked around. Another ding reminded you where you were and what was happening, so you rushed to the table to grab your phone. 
The screen lit up with unread texts and your heart sank with anxiety. They were all from Jensen.
We need to talk
Meet me on set now
Stress and fear were beating strong in your head when you arrived on the dark, empty set. Out of breath from having run there, you bent down, trying to get oxygen into your lungs. You’d been so worried about what your director wanted, you’d left without thinking about the kind of things most humans would have. Like taking your phone with you, instead of setting it back down on the table and bolting.
“Took you some time,” a rough, angry voice said in the distance. Since the set was closed for the night, there weren't many lights on. It took you some time to figure out where he was, and when you finally reached him, you froze in front of him, your mind going blank.
Jensen was sitting on the metallic stairs that were part of the structure to adjust the spotlights on the ceiling. His right arm was leaning on the railing, his fist tensed and resting near his chin. His other arm was draped over his knee. He was still wearing the same clothes, the baseball hat slightly askew on his head, but this time it wasn't hiding his eyes.
There was a dark fire burning in them.
“I’m so sorry,” you hastened to say, still out of breath. You hadn't noticed you still had the lollipop in your mouth until you spoke. When you realized, you hurried to take it out and hide it behind your back.
“Sorry. You’re sorry a lot,” Jensen said, still not moving from his position. A painful lump formed in your throat at how intimidating he was and how hard it was to look him in the eyes. You opened your mouth to apologize again, but he was faster. Now on his feet, Jensen sprang quickly towards you.
By reflex, you lowered your head immediately. But that seemed to annoy him, as you could hear him clicking his tongue disapprovingly above you. It made you want to be even smaller.
“You have no idea,” he scoffed, and you fought the need to lift your head and look at him to get answers. “No idea what you’re doing.” Like a predator, he started circling your frame. Whenever he looked, it burned and left goosebumps on your skin.
“I…don’t understand.” You swallowed hard and bit your lip anxiously.
“This.” His voice stopped in front of you. The tone he used for that single word managed to make you stop breathing and the lollipop fell from your hand. “How you bite your lips when you’re shy or anxious. How you play with your hair, your eyes wide and clueless. How you always have a finger in your mouth.” 
As he was speaking, you felt something on your chin that forced you to lift your head. You followed the movement without any resistance and ended up meeting his eyes. God, your legs got so wobbly, you nearly collapsed at his feet. 
“How you never look me in the eyes and always keep your head bent submissively." 
Jensen let go of your chin, but you didn’t move. As though in a trance, you kept staring, your lips parted and your eyes teary. But it was not because you were sad or afraid. You were simply, and completely, lost in him. 
“You’re so innocent, it’s insane. You ran here immediately, when I asked you to, didn't even bother putting on pants.” Each of his words were slow, like he wanted you to understand them perfectly.
His last sentence brought you back to earth and you broke eye contact to look down and see what you were wearing. Shame burned like a slap in your face when you realized he was right.
You were still dressed for sleep. You were still wearing your version of pajamas - just an oversized shirt and panties.
Crap. Fuck.
You were about to apologize, your head still bowed, when you realized you were looking at something you'd seen before.
It was dark in the studio. But there was no mistaking it. The bump you'd seen earlier, pushing out the front of his jeans, was back. 
It took some time for his words to make their way into your brain. After all, like he said, you were acting innocent, naive, a bit slow, even.
But not stupid. 
You'd finally done the math in your mind, and figured things out. When you lifted your head again, it was to meet his eyes. 
And this time, you didn’t look away.
“I’m turning you on,” you said on an exhale, the truth of the situation sending waves of heat down your body. No words left his mouth, but you didn’t need to hear his answer. The way his face darkened, his eyes roaming your body, was his way of telling you that you were right, and that he felt no shame because of it. 
“I didn’t think you had the guts to say it out loud.” Jensen said as he took a step closer to you. By reflex, you stepped back, your eyes still not leaving his.
“I don’t…do it on purpose, I’m sorry,” you offered, stepping back again as he moved closer to you. 
All you wanted in that moment was to let him do whatever he wanted to you. You wanted to live out everything you'd imagined all those nights when you couldn’t sleep because you were thinking too much about him. But still, something inside you was holding back.
“Exactly,” he answered, lowering his head. You could barely see his eyes under the hat. He kept walking towards you and you kept walking backwards until you ended up moving beyond the lights to a spot that was so dark by contrast, that all you could see was an abstract, scary shade advancing towards you. 
“You don’t even do it on purpose.” He continued. His voice sounded closer than he looked, so you stepped back quicker.
“I’m sorry,” you said again, and finally, you were in another pool of light. 
But he wasn’t.
Glancing all around you, you strained your eyes, trying to see through the dark areas of the stage, but it was impossible with the strong light shining down on you. All you could see was your feet, and the area just to your left, where the set was still decorated for the bedroom scene you hadn't been able to get through.
Having been too focused on figuring out where Jensen was coming from in the darkness around you, you hadn’t immediately noticed where he was leading you.
“You need to pay more attention, Y/n. And realise how much of a fucking tease you are.”
His voice echoed all around you, so of course, you stepped back towards the light, the whole situation making you feel equally scared and incredibly horny. 
“I’m sorry!” You repeated, biting your lips, your hand near your mouth like somehow, biting every part of your body could help you. 
That was when your back hit a wall. Or, at least, you thought it was a wall at first. Had to be. But then, you could feel it move behind you, rising and falling. The warmth of it hit next, and finally, the soft breath lifting your hair with each exhale. 
“Stop. Being. Sorry.”
Your whole body froze as you felt how tense his body was behind you. The tension was so strong, it was overpowering the room, and it was controlling you. Without thinking, you melted into his body, and your whole demeanor changed. “Why don’t you make me, Mister Ackles?”
A growl answered your challenge. “I knew it.”
And just like that, you were done resisting.
Hands landed on your hips, fingers digging into the skin barely covered by your shirt. He spun you around in his arms so you were facing him. You placed both hands on his chest, and barely lifting your head, you looked up teasingly through your lashes. “Are you done talking now?”
“I knew you were a fucking tease.” 
And with that, a smile stretched across Jensen's lips. But you couldn’t admire it for very long, because within a second of that smile, his mouth was on yours for a breathtaking kiss. You felt the air leave your lungs as you kissed him back immediately. 
His hands gripped your hips impossibly tight, before he let go to slip them under your shirt, his fingers immediately caressing your skin, discovering the new territory. He touched you everywhere, exploring your body as though he couldn't get enough. 
After a few moments of admiring you with his touch, his hands dropped back to your ass, and he squeezed it. Still kissing you, Jensen couldn’t use words, but you felt how he exhaled against your mouth, the way his chest rose and fell heavily, his hands almost shaking on your body. 
He was holding back.
Breaking the kiss, Jensen placed his forehead on yours and let a sigh escape his lips.
“We… We shouldn’t do that…”
“Do what,” you panted. You couldn't decide if you wanted to stare at his mouth or stay caught in his gaze, “we’re already doing it.”
“We can’t…fuck, we can't be caught,” he insisted. His mouth was saying one thing, but his body was saying the complete opposite as he pressed himself even closer to you, his hands tightening their grip on your ass cheeks.
“We won’t get caught if we stay quiet.” Brushing your teeth against his lower lip, you stepped forward forcing him to step back until his legs met the bed. The same bed you had to do your sex scene on. What an irony. 
“So, if you could stop talking and fuck me already, it would be done faster.”
Hearing those words from your lips seemed to turn a switch in Jensen. If he hadn't been completely sure at first about what you were doing, now all hesitations and worries were gone. You didn’t think it was possible, but his eyes grew darker, you could see pure hunger lurking in his pupils as he looked you up and down. And without delay, Jensen let his hands slip under your shirt, pulling it over your head and leaving you standing in front of him in only your panties.
No words left his mouth as he continued to admire you, and you felt a boost of confidence rising in you. It had been so long since someone looked at you that way, with so much need and desire. Indeed, you weren't sure if anyone ever truly had. 
It felt good, freeing, to feel sexy and desired by a man such as him. You felt like you had all the power in the world. If you wanted, you were sure you could make him kneel in front of you, and that was an exciting thought.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Jensen growled, his eyes not getting enough of you. His hands were already in your underwear, trying to get rid of that last piece of clothing separating him from the full view of you.
“I know.” You said in response to his compliment.
It was out of your mouth before you could think twice about it. Never before had you felt so confident in yourself. It felt so good. 
You nodded towards him. “Now. I believe I’m the only one naked.”
“Honey, you’re not naked yet,” He said with a smirk before his hands tore apart your underwear. You gasped, surprised at his strength, and your shyness returned for only a brief moment. 
“God. If only you knew how bad I’ve been wanting this." he groaned.
One blink. Two blinks. You were back, focused, confident. You were hot, he desired you, just like you desired him. “Then, show me.” One finger pointed towards him, you pressed on his chest to push him softly. Jensen let himself fall back on the bed and looked up at you.
“Undress,” you commanded.
With eagerness, Jensen removed the baseball hat, throwing it somewhere into the dark surrounding you. Your eyes didn’t leave him once as he pulled his clothes off piece by piece tossing them to pile up on the floor around you, until there were none left. And just as he'd admired you earlier, you stared at him, slowly absorbing all of him.
To say he was beautiful was a weak description. Sexy wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe how he looked. He was all muscles, especially his upper torso; his shoulders and arms were thick and round with muscle. A bit lower, his stomach was soft, but you could see the shades of a six pack moving beneath. And below that, resting up between thick thighs, his cock was begging for attention.
“Wow,” you couldn’t help but stare a little too long. He was big, and just imagining him inside of you had you closing your thighs together and clenching around nothing.
“Come here.” He said, his voice soft, but deep.
Jensen clearly couldn’t wait for you to do as he asked, because he grabbed your wrist to make you move forward. You placed a knee on either side of his hips and sat down on his thighs, soaking them in the process. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet. All for me?” His face was hidden against your throat and you shivered, goosebumps spreading on your body as his beard created a delicious burn on your skin. He nibbled your flesh, kissed it and marked it with his teeth. 
All you could do as he touched you everywhere with his mouth and hands was to whimper. It was so hot, your head was spinning, you felt him everywhere, like you were slowly becoming one with him. “Fuck, please,” you quickly begged. 
“Please what?” His lips curled up against your skin, his hands on your ass cheeks inviting you to grind against his thighs. You moaned again, your head thrown back to give him more access to your throat. “Tell me, what do you want?”
“Fuck,” you croaked out, your hips moving on your own now. Grinding felt good, but it wasn’t enough. It could barely scratch that itch, all you were doing was wetting his thighs more and more, and that was very humiliating. You were soaked. It didn’t help that you were straddling both his thighs, so nothing was pressed hard enough against your core. As you expressed your frustration with a whine, your body showed the same frustration by slowing down.
“What’s up baby,” Jensen whispered against your ear, his warm breath sending more shivers down your neck. “Can’t get off?” 
You answered him by stopping completely, your breathing fast and irregular. “You have to tell me. Tell me what you want?” He chuckled and suddenly, you were a few centimeters higher, something strong pressing against your core. 
A whimper of surprise left your lips as you understood; Jensen had lifted one of his legs, his foot resting on the bed frame. It allowed you to feel it now, feel the pressure, feel him between your legs. To thank him, you kissed his neck and immediately resumed your movements.
Your teeth sank into his flesh just in time to silence your voice. In this position, grinding his leg felt divine. It pressed at just the right spot, and since you'd already soaked his thigh, you could move easily. Your hips rolled without you even thinking about it, you chased it, the high, the peak, the pleasure, but it could only build up more and more and more… without getting that little explosion you were looking for.
And quickly, you were whining again.
“Don’t forget what I said,” Jensen’s voice sounded against your ear again, so rough you nearly froze. 
In your current state of your mind, with a climax that didn’t wanna come no matter how much you chased it, it was hard for you to pay attention and listen to what he was saying. It was hard to even think. But finally, you remembered that Jensen had ordered you to tell him what you wanted.
“Wanna feel you inside me, please Jensen, please, fuck me,” you begged, your voice almost pathetic, you needed it so badly. You kept begging, kissing his neck, trying everything to get what you wanted.
“I love it when you beg me.”
You couldn’t stop moving now, your hips went back and forth on his thigh relentlessly. You lost track of time. It felt like you were on his thighs, begging to be fucked, for hours now. So close but yet, so far from your release.
As you were focused on moving your hips and chasing your climax, everything moved at the same time. You were back on both his thighs, and as you ground forward again, you moved further up on his body, which had you…grinding against his cock.
The sensation was completely different. It was smaller, but his cock slid perfectly between the lips of your pussy and pressed on your clit just the right way. Jensen was half laying down to allow you this position, he was resting on his elbows, his dark eyes admiring the view and your pathetic attempts to cum. Now that you were on his cock, you felt a surge of heat pool between your legs. With this new sensation, you became even more desperate to get him inside you. He was so close.
As though reading your thoughts, Jensen only allowed you to rub against his cock a couple of times before his fingers tightened into the flesh of your hips, manipulating your body like you were just a doll, so he could place you where you wanted to be the most. 
One of his hands then left your hips, but you barely noticed it as you continued grinding down against his cock. Suddenly you felt something big pressed at your entrance. But you were so wet, it slipped inside you with almost no resistance. A loud moan left your mouth, surprise and pleasure mingling as you were impaled on his cock, letting gravity bury him to the hilt inside of you.
“Oh fuck!” You bit your lips, feeling so full it almost hurt. “You’re so big!” Pressing a hand to your lower stomach, you felt the shape of his cock under your fingers.
“I’m not all the way in yet.” Jensen said, his voice tight.
Your eyes widened, you had no time to prepare yourself before Jensen shifted slightly and pressed down on your hips, forcing his cock even deeper inside you. He pressed until you were flesh to flesh with him, until he was completely sheathed inside of you. Your vision got blurry immediately; it was too much and not enough at the same time. Your breathing cut off at the same time a long moan was about to leave your mouth.
When you got back your sight, you looked down at the man under you and finally noticed why you couldn’t breathe. A big, warm hand was placed on your mouth, skillfully muffling the sound of your moans.
“As much as I would love to hear you scream," a smirk stretched his lips and Jensen narrowed his eyes. “I can’t let anyone catch us. And you’re awfully loud for a shy, innocent lil girl, huh?”
You wanted to talk back so bad, but even if you didn’t have the hand on your mouth, you wouldn’t have been able to form a coherent sentence. Because the moment he said that, Jensen moved his hips up and your eyes rolled back in your head. God, it felt so good, even your thoughts were being fucked stupid. 
“Hmmm…” You moaned under his hand.
“Hmmm…” Jensen repeated. “You can bite me if you need. But do not make a sound. Understood?”
Removing his hand, Jensen waited for your answer. Your head was still floating on a cloud, so it took some time for you to understand his order. Mouth half open, you nodded, agreeing to whatever he wanted. As long as he fucked you. That was all you wanted, all you needed.
“Good girl.”
And that was exactly what you did. When Jensen lifted your hips to allow him some room to fuck up into you, you immediately hid your face against his neck and bit down on the soft spot between his shoulder and his throat. At first, his thrusts were slow as though he was testing you. You suspected it was either to make sure you would stay silent, or because he wanted to be sure you were not in pain. After all, he was so thick and big, he stretched you so much that you did feel like you might rip in two.
But when Jensen understood there was no need to worry, that you could stay quiet and that you could take all of him, he let go.
Picking up his speed to a devastating pace he fucked up into you, his hands still on your hips inviting you to slam down each time he was deep inside of you. And each time that happened, he hit your cervix with a beautiful pain that made you bite him harder, your nails digging into his back, anything to hold back your voice.
But you were losing the battle.
After a few minutes in that position, Jensen quickly pulled you off his cock. A pathetic whimper echoed in the room and you never understood it was you, making all those little noises.
“Hold on," Jensen said soothingly, "you’ll be more comfortable like this."
It was hard to fully understand what was happening, your mind was so fogged up with pleasure and all the sensations happening at the same time. But one moment, you were sitting on top of him, and the next you were laying on your stomach, a pillow beneath your cheek and your hips slightly raised.
You didn’t know what the purpose of the pillow was until he thrusted back inside of you, bottoming out immediately. In the new position, he had no trouble moving, and didn’t wait for you to bite into the pillow, grabbing on to it with all your might, before he began moving. 
Already, his cock was going in and out of your channel, so hard, so fast, your whole body was shifting and trembling with pleasure. And without realizing it, you were slamming back against him to feel him hit as deep as possible, just to feel that sharp, pleasure-filled pain you enjoyed so much before. 
You didn’t think it could be any better, but then…
Jensen’s voice was deep, rough. He wasn’t talking. He was breathing fast and didn’t hold back his pleasure, you could hear it. Groaning, moaning, swearing.
But for him, your pleasure was more important. He wanted to hear you, even if it was muffled against the pillow. One of his hands slid under your body and between your thighs until he found what he was looking for. And the moment he pressed on it, the moment he started rubbing your clit, the pleasure exploded. 
It was too much.
With his arm wrapped around your thigh, and his fingers pressing against your clit, Jensen couldn’t go as fast as he had been, but he kept thrusting slow and deep. His fingers played with your clit, brushed it and made quick circles around it until he found the right movement and rhythm that would make you come apart. When he found it, you could hear him chuckle. Even over your own moans and with a shrill sound pounding in your ears, you could still hear him. And what you heard was Jensen, in his deep, rough voice, ordering you to cum.
It was way too much for you.
Your orgasm had been building since you started, so when it finally popped, it was without warning. Your mind went blank, your eyes rolled back, and your body shook under him. It was so intense, you were sure there were a few seconds where you simply ceased to exist.
Nothing existed.
You finally came back to yourself just in time to feel Jensen pull out of you quickly, and then hot drops of something ran down your ass. Your hearing took some time to come back fully, and there was still the echo of something shrill when you turned your head back to look over your shoulder.
Jensen was on his knees between your legs, his hand on his half hard cock. There was cum dripping down his hand, but he didn’t seem to mind as his eyes were closed and his head bent back a little. His climax was probably as strong as yours.
It took some time to catch your breath. And then, the realization of what happened hit you like a ton of bricks. Panic seized you, you tried to get on your feet quickly but tripped and fell back on the bed.
“Hey, hey,” Jensen was immediately beside you, helping you lay back down on the bed. “Don’t get up too fast. That was fucking intense, you might still be light headed.” 
You shook your head. “I… I have to leave…” You tried to get up again, but Jensen stopped you. Not able to meet his eyes, you looked to the right, staring at nothing but the endless darkness of the set.
Jensen sighed and rubbed your arm softly. His hand was warm and it felt good against your skin. You didn’t feel it right now, but you knew you would be sore tomorrow. 
“Please, don’t leave.” 
Surprised to hear that, especially after what you just did, you turned your head and looked at him with big teary eyes. 
“I know what we did was not professional.” He said softly.
You nodded and sniffed, feeling yourself get all flustered the more you looked at him. But not because he was intimidating, his voice was gentle.
It was the softest he'd been since you'd started working with him.
You shook your head. “You’re my boss…we can’t…” 
“I know.” He agreed simply.
Feeling slightly better, you sat down but stayed on the bed. Since it was still hard to look at him, you stared at your hands and played with your fingers. 
“But Y/n…” 
You looked up at him again, feeling so many things at the same time. You were scared of what would happen now. Scared because all you wanted was to do it again. Scared, but also hopeful and good. You felt so good. The afterglow of the amazing sex was still there and very hard to ignore. 
“I meant it when I hired you. You are beautiful.” Jensen said with a soft smile.
A shy, answering smile appeared on your face at the compliment, but your eyes stayed sad. 
“That’s why, when I saw you," he continued, "I…I knew I'd finally found the lead for the movie. You were exactly how I pictured her. And when I made you audition, the joy I felt seeing that you could act? Well, was perfect."
"But…” Pausing, Jensen sighed again. He seemed at war with himself as he tried to explain. You took his hand in yours to encourage him to continue. 
“I started falling for you in a way I knew I shouldn’t.” He shrugged and looked away, his fingers playing with yours now. “And then came the sex scene and I was just. You were doing amazing, but I was so jealous. And pissed. Because I couldn’t help but feel aroused watching you make out. So out of both of us, it's really me that's not being professional. Your scenes were fine, I just…wanted to see you do them again and again. And I kept picturing me-”
“Jensen." You interrupted.
Your head was spinning with everything that was happening. What he just said - it was a confession. You had no idea how a man like him could fall for you, but you knew one thing. 
You were falling for him too.
“I don’t know what to do,” his hand left yours to be placed against his face in defeat. “I want you. But also, the movie…we can’t do that.”
“I…” You started, your heart beating nervously with what you were about to say. It could be a very bad idea, but for now, it seemed like the best. 
" We're almost done filming, and after the movie is complete, you won’t be my boss anymore, so…”
Jensen looked at you with interest in his eyes. “So…it wouldn't be…”
"...wrong." You finished for him. “And in the meantime, we could just call this…” You pointed to yourself and then to him, “...personal training?” 
You grinned playfully. “After all, you just helped me find my inner mistress. I think next time we shoot the scene will be a good one.”
Relief seemed to wash over Jensen’s face at your proposition. “You don’t need me to practice, you have lots of talent, Y/n. A lot.”
Heat invaded your face again at his wonderful compliments. You were not used to that “Not that good. So yeah, I’m gonna need that training. Unless you don’t want to?”
The moment you said that, his eyes grew two shades darker. “Oh, I do want to. Come on, let’s go to my trailer, we’ll be more comfortable…ah…rehearsing more of your scenes.”
“Alright. Let me just find my shirt, since you destroyed my panties.” Thinking about how he ripped the fabric apart made you clench your thighs, your face getting warmer.
“I don’t think you can wait that long,” Jensen said as he helped you get up on your feet. He grabbed the bed sheet to wrap it around you. “And neither can I.”
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Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa @wickedinspirations @fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore
Jensen Ackles tag list: @sexyvixen7 @nitnat6245 @sacriceria @akshi8278 @thoughts-and-funnies @stixnstripesworld @nancymcl @jensendreamland  @fiftyshadesgrl @happyt0exist @deans-spinster-witch​
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winchester-girl67 · 2 years
Text
Sensory Overload
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Summary: The reader tells Dean that she's on the spectrum after he finds her hiding out in his room after a hunt.
Requested by @whoooooisthis​: "I was wondering if you'd be okay with writing Dean Winchester x autistic reader (with sensory issues, and possibly a hyperfixation on the lore/mythology the boys use to hunt)?"
Pairing: Dean x autistic!reader
Square: Clothes sharing @spnfluffbingo​ Dean's Flannel @supernatural-jackles​
Word Count: 2,489
Warnings: autistic!reader, autism, mentions/implied hyperfixation, anxiety, separation anxiety, ADHD, sensory issues related to autism, stimming, a little angst, a little pining, emotional hurt/comfort, cuddling/kissing, mostly fluff
A/N: Sorry this took so long, I'm really behind on requests. I hope you like it. Also written for @spnfluffbingo​ and @supernatural-jackles​’ Tell Me a Story bingo.
_____
You snuggled more into the comforters, wrapping Dean's pillow tighter around your head to block out the cacophony of sounds in the bunker. The high-pitched buzz of the fluorescent lights in the hallway mixed with the constant droning sound of the ventilation system, but neither compared to the silence of your cell phone.
You called the boys fifteen and a half times in the past hour, but still no answer. You were worried, terrified you missed something in the lore that could've led to their demise, because why else haven't they picked up yet. Dean always called you when they finished a hunt with praises on your research skills, you saved their asses plenty of times without even being in the line of fire.
Your forte was in the books, you knew everything about everything, hunters from all parts of the country looked to you for information on vamps, ghouls, djinns, shifters, ghosts, demons, wendigos... You name it, you knew it, and you loved it, spending your days in the library; but sometimes you got a little lost in it and that's when having the boys around really helped.
Dean especially was great at drawing your focus, usually after he'd just tried a new recipe in the kitchen and needed a taste-tester. You didn't have the heart to tell him that most of his 'masterpieces' were mostly inedible, though he did make incredible chocolate chip cookies and apple pie. He made those most often.
You wondered if you'd ever get to taste those again, if the boys would come walking in that bunker door any time soon, if you missed something in the lore. But you had scanned the pages too many times to have missed anything. Something else must've gone wrong.
You couldn't remember how long ago it was that you curled up in Dean's bed. You weren't supposed to be there, you never crawled into his bed unless he was already in it and you couldn't sleep. You started to cry, not heavily, just one or two tears that escaped as you started to rock back and forth and back-
The lights in the room flicked on. You didn't open your eyes until a pair of strong hands pried yours off the edges of Dean's pillow. You met the gaze of the green eyed man of whom you'd come so accustomed to. You've only lived with them for a year now and your diagnosis had never come up, but you couldn't avoid it now, not anymore. Not that you were avoiding it, it just never came up.
You looked away and sat up in his bed. You glanced around at the state his room was in. Dean liked things tidy and you'd made a mess of it. His clothes were thrown over every square inch of his bedroom floor. You glanced back at him, he looked tired but you didn't think he looked angry.
"Before you say anything, I'm sorry!" You blurted out, wiping your cheeks dry.
"Okay," Dean eyed the mess, "You wanna tell me why you look so guilty?"
"You didn't answer your phone, you always answer your phone. I got worried. I'm sorry." You hugged yourself and squinted at the bright lights, "C-can you turn those off, please?"
Dean nodded and turned on the bedside lamp, then flicked off the switch for the ceiling lights. You started to relax slightly in the more dim setting, especially now that you knew he was okay. You sucked in a slow breath not wanting to completely lose it in front of him. How long have you been there? You didn't know and hugged his pillow to your chest.
"Better?" He asked, you nodded, "Were you asleep?" You shook your head and tugged on the trim of the pillow case, "What's wrong, Y/N?"
"I-I was worried," you said, you knew he was looking at you but you couldn't meet his eyes. "Y-you didn't answer your phone."
"Sammy's phone died and I broke mine," he explained, tossing the two pieces of his cell onto the table next to the lamp. You winced at the clattering sound, he noticed but didn't make a comment. Instead he spoke softer, "And that makes you raid my closet?" He asked, pulling on the hem of your shirt sleeve, but you pulled your hand away and you thought you heard him sigh.
You had changed out of your clothes and into his. A pair of sweats, a t-shirt, and the purple plaid of his that you adored. There was just something about his clothes that calmed you, they weren't itchy or confining like yours were. And they smelt like him, at least the flannel did because he'd worn it briefly before he left. You were a little embarrassed when you saw him notice. But Dean never judged you, you loved that about him.
"I needed something soft and your clothes are softer than mine, and it smells like you. It calms me. I'm sorry."
"It's a bit big on you, isn't it, sweetheart?" He laughed and you frowned, "Hey, that was a joke. Y/N?"
You didn't always get his odd sense of humour, he loved sarcasm but you never really understood it, even if you laughed at a couple of his remarks from time to time. You liked it better when he was blatantly silly and told dad-jokes. That's actually how your friendship started out, with bad jokes, that's how he got you out of your shell. With Sam you bonded over research in the library until you surpassed his knowledge and he couldn't teach you anymore, now it was workout routines and health related stuff like early morning runs or protein shakes. You never told Sam that you'd rather eat one of Dean's masterpieces over those protein shakes. But he did start adding berries to yours which helped.
"Sorry..."
"Don't be sorry, Y/N, you haven't done anything wrong." He said, furrowing his brow.
You flinched when he tried to touch your hand again, so instead he huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. You cleared your throat and mirrored him, crossing your arms over the pillow you continued to squish to your chest.
"I'm on the spectrum, Dean." You said, making eye contact for a second and watching his features soften.
"I didn't know," he shook his head and sighed like he should've though. Because you were good friends, best friends; hell, half the time he flirted with you. Hard. That was probably the one thing he made painfully obvious, when he hit on you. But nothing ever came of it. Yet.
"I don't tell many people, at least not until we get to know each other. I'm not embarrassed or anything, it's a part of me and I like who I am. But some days, I just want to be me, you know? Without the label." You explained, shuffling over a bit when Dean sat next to you on the bed.  
"I know what you mean, sweetheart," he chewed on his lip for a moment as if contemplating something, "I have ADHD... This is the first time I've told anyone. I won't give Sam the satisfaction of knowing he was right, he's been saying I have it for years and I just know he'll give me that 'I told you so' smirk he likes so much." He laughed and shrugged, "I'll eventually tell him though... One of these days."
"I know."
His eyes widened, "You do?"
"Yeah," you nodded, still tugging on the welt edge of the pillow case.
"How?"
"It's super obvious, Dean. You have way too much energy for someone your age, you're super impulsive, and you're easily distracted." You rambled your observations on his personality from the past year. Those were exactly the things you loved about him though.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that comment about my age." He gave you a pointed stare but you could tell he was teasing because he smiled, "Why'd you tell me now?"
"I've known you for a while now, I trust you won't treat me different. Kinda hard to explain all this too," you said, waving your hand to quickly gesture around the room. You hadn't noticed what you were doing in the moment, but now you realized you'd thrown more than half of his wardrobe onto the floor in your search for his softest clothing.
He shrugged, "Could've just said Cas was here. This is nothing, I've seen him do more damage than this before. I'd have believed it."
You shrugged, "I guess, I'm tired of lying to you, or not telling you the whole truth, especially you."
"You can always tell me the truth, sweetheart, and if I can't relate, I'll try to understand." He said, placing his hand between you like he hoped you'd grab it, "You're not alone, Y/N."
"Thank you," you swallowed, staring at his hand. You wanted to reach out but you couldn't convince your hands to let go of the pillow case.
"No, thank you for trusting me enough to share this with me. I appreciate it and everything you do for us. I honestly think we'd be lost without you. I know I would." He didn't say it in his usual flirting tone, but you knew it wasn't a joke either. There was definitely something more to those four words.
"So, you're not mad about the, y-your room?" You asked, pressing your face into the pillow and side eyeing him.
"No, but I am curious, now that we've brought up this whole honesty thing. What did you think of my last conquest? The bacon corn soufflé, you never did say much." He asked with a raise of his eyebrows and you scrunched up your face, "You know you’re not that great at hiding when you don't like something, why do you think I limit my culinary masterpieces to once a month and instead make cookies and pie mostly now?" He smiled showing off his pearly teeth.
You smiled too, "I could go for some cookies."
"I have half a batch in the freezer, wanna get some with me?"
You shook your head instantly, "It's too loud out there," you motioned to the hallway behind him.
"I have an idea, do you trust me?" He asked and you hesitated but ultimately nodded. Dean pulled open the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out a pair of noise-cancelling headphones, "Can I..?" He gestured as if he was going to put the headphones on you and you let him. It was so quiet and peaceful, you honestly don't know why you didn't think of this sooner.
You saw Dean's lips moving and lifted one side of the headphones, "What?"
"I said," he chuckled softly, "I'm gonna shower real quick and then I'll come get you for cookies and milk, okay?"
"Okay," you agreed and pulled the comforters up, holding them under your chin.
Dean ducked out of the room with a fresh pair of sweats and a tee tucked under his arm. Stopping at the door to glance back at you quickly. You gave him a soft smile and snuggled down into the bed again.
It felt like he was only gone for a second when he returned freshly showered with damp hair and smelling of, lavender? He used your body wash again, that always made you giggle; when tough-guy Dean smelt of pretty purple flowers.
He sat on the bed next to you and you lifted the headphones again, "Snack time?" He asked.
You glanced at the open bedroom door behind him and shook your head, "It's too bright." You let the headphones fall back into place and Dean raised a finger as if he needed a minute and disappeared out the door.
The lights in the hallway dimmed to half their brightness and Dean returned with a grin plastered on his face. He spread out his arms and raised his brows and you found the same smile plastered on your own face as you slid out of bed and followed him into the hall.
Dean left the lights off in the kitchen and grabbed the freezer bag of chocolate chip cookies from the freezer. He split open the bag and dug one out to hand to you, then popped one between his own lips, letting the warmth from his mouth defrost the dough before biting into it.
You sat on the counter and watched Dean move around the kitchen in the dark. He knew it like the back of his hand and in no time at all, there was a glass of milk in his hand and another one next to you. You shared the cookies until there were none and polished off your milk. Dean took the glasses and placed them in the sink before turning to you.
It was a comfortable silence as he stood in front of you but you couldn't hold his gaze for more than a second at a time. Until you caught his top lip and started laughing. You gestured to his milk-moustache and he chuckled by the roll of his shoulders and wiped it away. You wiped your mouth, just in case you had one too. He nodded his head towards the hallway and you followed him back to his room.
You already made up your mind that you were staying with him tonight and since he didn't push you towards your own room, you figured he was fine with that. You crawled into bed and lifted the headphones from your ears. You didn't really want to sleep with them on and you were feeling better now.
Dean grabbed the remote from his bedside table, "What do you say we watch a movie?"
"I don't think I'm up for a movie, De." You said, turning on your side to face him.
"Why not?" He replaced the remote and scooted down in bed next to you. Surprisingly he didn't make any move to touch you after his last few failed attempts and instead propped his head on his hand so he could look down at you comfortably.
"The screen moves too fast and I just need quiet, I still feel on edge a little bit." You explained.
"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" He asked.
"Hold me," you said, suddenly wanting to feel him surrounding you. He shifted closer and pulled you into his arms tentatively, "Tighter." He hugged you more, "Tighter." He squeezed you.
You sighed and nuzzled your face against his chest, feeling everything melt away as you melted into him. He kissed the top of your head with no intention of letting go and gave you another squeeze.
“Thank you,” you mumbled. “Dean? Can we get a dog?" This was an ongoing battle you were determined to win.
He sighed and kissed the top of your head again, "Only if I get to pick the name."
_________________________ 
 Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278​ @laycblack​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @crustycheeks​ @kazsrm67​ @sexyvixen7​ @lyarr24​ @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99​ @yvonneeeee​ 
Forever SPN: @hobby27​
Tell Me a Story Bingo: @princessvader15​
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pink-sparkly-witch · 2 years
Text
Can't Fight This Feeling, Pt. 1
Summary: Dean is in love with the girl who works in the office. The problem is Y/N is already dating someone, and Dean is not her type, right? When Y/N is dumped by Rick the Prick, the feelings she has had for Dean since she started working at Singer’s Auto come back in full force.
Pairing: Mechanic!Dean Winchester x Female Reader (Eventual)
Bingo Square: Mutual Pining
Warnings: Fluff, angst, language
Word Count: 3.3k
A/N: This is written as a submission for Tell Me A Story Bingo hosted by @supernatural-jackles. The square filled is Mutual Pining. This hasn’t been beta’d. All mistakes are mine!
My Masterlist     AO3    Ko-Fi
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Dean had to admit he was happy. He loved his job as a mechanic, and the garage he worked at would be his someday. Bobby had already talked to him about buying him out when the old man retired, and he’d agreed to the proposal right away, never doubting it was what he wanted.
He owned a modest two-storey house in a good neighbourhood which he renovated right after moving in. His neighbours were friendly, if a little nosey, and for the most part, he loved attending and hosting the neighbourhood cookouts in the summer months. The only thing missing was someone to share his life with.
He’d had a few relationships in the past, none giving him exactly what he wanted. The closest was Lisa, and he did love her. She didn’t love him, though, and after a while, she realised that she needed more than just a father figure for her son and that Dean deserved better. She broke his heart, making him a little jaded about women for a while.
Dean had gone back to his playboy ways, but it quickly became unsatisfying, and he decided it was time to try dating again. The problem was that he was confident he’d found ‘the one,’ but she was someone else’s girl, and he didn’t want to waste more time with the wrong woman.
Maybe he was just meant to be alone.
His bachelor lifestyle was hitting him even harder recently with his baby brother’s announcement that he and Eileen were getting married. His good buddy, Garth, was also getting married in the summer. Benny and Cas were happy and settled in their relationships. Dean had a feeling that Benny would be asking Donna to move in with him and Cas would be putting a ring on Meg’s finger very soon.
He was glad a customer had dropped off a 1969 Chevrolet Camaro for restoration. It kept him busy and stopped his thoughts from wandering for too long.
“Hey, Dean?” Y/N opened the door that separated reception from the garage floor and shouted, trying to be heard over the noise of the equipment.
“S’up, Y/N?” he called back, unable to stop his smile at seeing her for the first time today. He didn’t sleep much last night, so he opened the garage at 6am. He had to admit, it was strange walking through the garage and not seeing her already sitting in her office.
“Jody’s here for her car, but Bobby’s out. Can you take care of the handover?” Y/N threw him her sweetest smile and biggest puppy eyes, and fuck if he wouldn’t have helped her commit mass murder right here at Singer’s Auto if she asked. He knew she had him wrapped around her little finger, but he was hopelessly in love with her and really didn’t care.
“Sure. Gimme a sec?” Dean said, and she grinned happily at him. God, she’s beautiful when she smiles! Dean thought and shook his head, chuckling at his behaviour. He grabbed the rag tucked into his coverall pocket and wiped the grease from his hands. He walked quickly to the break room and washed his hands to remove the stubborn dirt before heading to the back office.
There were two doors in the break room, one coming to and from the garage floor and the other that led to the corridors with the offices, bathrooms and changing rooms. Dean took the one into the corridor and headed to the back office, which belonged to Bobby. 
Bobby’s office held the safe where they locked the vehicle keys at the end of the day or when they were waiting to be collected. Opening the safe and pulling out Jody’s keys, Dean made sure to he locked it and the office behind him and made his way to the reception.
“Sheriff. Good to see you,” Dean greeted. He’d known Jody a long time. She was his mom’s best friend. 
“Dean! Good to see you too,” Jody smiled and pulled the mechanic in for a hug. “You’re looking a little skinny. Are you taking care of yourself?”
“Yeah, you know,” Dean started, rubbing his hand over his neck. “Been working hard. Long hours. You know the drill.”
“Yeah, I can see that beautiful Camaro you’re restoring. Is she keeping you busy?” Jody asked, smiling gently at Y/N, who handed her some paperwork to sign.
“Something like that, yeah.” Dean chuckled.
“Dean Winchester!” Jody scolded. “Do I have to call your mother and tell her you’re not taking care of yourself? Tell me, Y/N… does he ever go home?”
“He was here before me this morning, and I was in at 7:30 to handle an early delivery for Bobby,” Y/N tattled. “You know he never even ate breakfast? I went over to the diner and got him pancakes and bacon. It’s no wonder he’s getting skinny.” 
“Traitor!” Dean playfully said, pointing in her direction. “And here I thought you, of all people, would have my back!”
“And lie to the Sheriff? And your mother?” Y/N huffed in disbelief. “Sorry, Dean! Even I’m not dumb enough to go up against those two!” she giggled at Dean’s look of mock hurt. “You know if it was anybody else, I’d have your back all day, every day, but I will not go up against Jody and Mary!” Y/N playfully stuck her tongue out, showing she was only teasing.
“That’s my girl!” Jody laughed. “Thank you for taking care of him. At least when he’s here,” she smiled softly and squeezed Y/N’s forearm.
“Ah, what are friends for,” Y/N waved her hand, telling them it was nothing.
Friends. There was that word that twisted his gut. He knew he shouldn’t feel what he does for her; she already has a boyfriend, so friends are all they’ll ever be. “Alright, ‘gang up on Dean hour’ is over. What are you still doing here anyway? Thought you had a lunch date with Mr Pretty-Boy-Wannabe-Entrepreneur?”
“Okay, first of all: you gotta damn cheek calling anyone a “pretty boy,” pretty boy! Secondly… cancelled it.” Y/N shrugged and smiled sadly, grabbing the paperwork for the Sheriff’s car to file. “It was nice to see you, Jody!” she turned and returned to her office.
“You too, honey,” Jody raised a hand in farewell, waited until Y/N was safely behind her desk, and lowered her voice. “Any idea what that was about?”
“No clue,” Dean responded with a frown.
“Alright, I gotta get back to it. Thanks for this, Dean,” Jody held her car key up and nodded. “I’ll see you soon. And call your mother!”
“Yes, ma’am!” Dean grinned and raised a hand to wave goodbye. When the door closed, he stood for a minute, trying to decide whether to push Y/N on what was going on with her. She was visibly upset by something, and if his gut was right, it had to do with the douchebag she was dating.
Huffing, Dean headed to her office and leaned against the door frame. The radio played REO Speedwagon’s Can’t Fight This Feeling, and he smiled softly as she hummed along. Not wanting to startle her, he knocked quietly on the door, just loud enough to announce he was there.
The noise coming from the garage floor often masked footsteps on the linoleum. Although it was hilarious when Y/N punched, kicked, or yelled out when she got startled by one of their voices at her door, he was pretty sure she’d punch him in the face if he did that to her now.
Glancing up, Y/N smiled like she always did when she saw him, like she was genuinely happy to see him, like he was the only person she wanted to see. He’d watched her and knew that no one else got those smiles from her, and, man, did that make him feel special.
“Hey. You alright?” Dean asked and frowned deeper when her smile fell, and she nodded her head, quickly lowering it behind the monitor in front of her.
“You sure? Because I can tell you’re upset,” he made no move to enter her office, leaning against the doorframe and giving her space. Dean sighed when he was met with silence. “Y/N/N, sweetheart, we’re friends, right?” he licked his lips and raised his eyebrows at her slight nod. “Then you know you can talk to me. Tell me anything. I just wanna help. See that smile back on your face.”
“Rick broke up with me last night,” Y/N finally spoke after a while. Dean’s eyebrows shot up in shock. Those were words he never thought he’d hear.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. What happened?” Dean finally moved from his perch on the doorframe and took the chair across the desk from hers.
“The new tech company he and his buddies created?” she spoke softly, and Dean nodded. “It’s starting to take off, and he’s been travelling a lot. Going to all these Expos and events, and apparently, I’m holding him back.”
“Y/N,” Dean wanted to go to her, comfort her but held back with every ounce of strength he had.
“Which I guess is guy speak for there’s a lot of beautiful women out there, and having a girlfriend is kinda cramping my style,” she tried to smile. Still, tears were gathering in the corners of her eyes. “But it’s okay. At least he didn’t cheat on me, right?” There was a bitter chuckle that Dean didn’t like the sound of. He’d give anything to take away her pain.
“I always knew Rick the Prick was a dumb douchebag. That asshole wouldn’t see a great thing if it walked in front of him and slapped him in the face. What exactly did they teach him at the fancy private school his daddy sent him to?” Dean fumed. Rick really was a prick. He’d never liked him. He always thought he was above everyone else.
“That he doesn’t need an education. He only needs the unlimited money from the trust fund his daddy set up for him, and everything will fall into his lap?” Y/N responded, and Dean laughed. 
“It’s gonna be fine, sweetheart. There’s someone much better out there for you. I know it,” he smiled. “Now, how ‘bout I take my favourite girl to lunch before I head into the city to pick up some parts? What d’ya say?”
“Sure, thanks, Dean.” Y/N smiled brightly, and Dean leaned forward on the chair and gently grabbed her chin, giving her a charming wink.
“There she is! There’s that smile I love so much! Come on, burgers and milkshakes on me!”
“And pie?” Y/N pulled out the puppy eyes as she stood and rounded her desk, making Dean chuckle.
“Sure,” he said, pulling her into a hug and kissing her hair. “You can have all the pie you want, sweetheart.”
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Dean’s smile didn’t fade when he got back to the garage, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his best friend, Benny. He was among the few who knew about Dean’s true feelings for Y/N.
“What’s that smile for Winchester?” Benny grinned as he leaned on the roof of the car Dean was working on.
“You saying I can’t be happy, Lafitte?” Dean sassed him back.
“Course you can. I just haven’t seen you this happy in a long time, brother,” Benny smiled softer now.
“I had a great lunch with great company,” Dean shrugged as if it was no big deal.
“With your girl in the office, huh?” The cheeky grin was back on Benny’s lips.
“She’s not my girl,” Dean protested.
“Yet. I know how you feel about Y/N, Dean. And the guy she’s with? He doesn’t deserve her, and once she realises it, it’ll be over for them.” Benny slapped his friend's shoulder in the way men do to comfort each other.
“It already is, man,” Dean lowered his voice to stop the whole garage from overhearing. “They broke up last night. ‘S why I took her out for lunch. Cheer her up a little.”
“Shit,” Benny lowered his voice, too, glancing around him to make sure they weren’t overheard. “What happened?”
“I don’t think it’s my place to say,” Dean’s response made Benny smile slightly. He was always so protective of her. It was damn adorable.
“Sure, I get that. She’s okay, though, right?” Benny adored Y/N, too, although his adoration was brotherly towards her.
“She will be,” Dean nodded.
“You gonna swoop in and sweep her off her feet?” Benny’s signature cheeky grin was back full force, and Dean rolled his eyes at his best friend.
“No. You know she doesn’t feel that way ‘bout me. Besides, I’m not her type,” Dean defended.
“Sure. Whatever you say, chief. Just don’t write it off yet, alright? ‘S’all I’m trying to say,” Benny gave him a knowing look, and Dean scoffed, unconvinced.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever. Do you need me to pick anything up from the city? I got parts that need collecting,” Dean’s quick change of subject made Benny chuckle.
“Nah, all good. I was gonna ask if you wanna go for drinks after work on Saturday, though. Start Memorial weekend off right.” Benny said.
“Yeah, sure. Roadhouse?” Dean asked.
“That’s the plan. And Dean? If you want a chance, a real chance with Y/N? Maybe don’t go chasing everything in a skirt. Make her see that you don’t always need to take someone home, that you can be in a relationship and not just be a one-and-done kinda guy,” Benny winked and walked away with a chuckle, leaving Dean wide-eyed with shock.
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Lunch had been just what Y/N needed, and she’d done nothing but laugh and smile at Dean and his storytelling and blatant flirting. It reminded her of why she fell for him in the first place.
Dean was always funny and flirty. He knew how to make her laugh, even on her worst days. He treated her with kindness and respect, and she knew he had her back, no questions asked. He’d always been a gentleman with her, often pretending to be her boyfriend when some dick at the bar got too handsy with her or making sure she got home safe, and she loved him for it.
He was just her type too. Handsome, funny, smart, a cocky bastard. But how he acted with her and treated her was the same way he was with every woman he encountered. Except for the ones he wanted to go home with. They got his A-game, so she knew her feelings weren’t reciprocated.
The night Rick came over to her in the bar and attempted to flirt with her, she’d thought he was cute. She could tell he was out of his depth right off the bat, but his eagerness to impress her made her heart melt. When he asked if he could buy her a drink, she said yes.
At the bar, they talked for a while, and when he asked if he could take her on a date, she caught sight of Dean chatting up another beautiful, busty brunette who could be on the cover of magazines and knew for sure she’d never get to be his girl, so she said yes. The rest, as they say, was history.
Rick was so far from her type that none of her friends ever quite “got” them as a couple. Rick was from a trust fund family, his father a multi-million-dollar entrepreneur in Kansas City, and he had wanted for nothing growing up. Everything was handed to him on a gold plate. He didn’t know the meaning of living paycheck to paycheck or just getting by - which was how she’d grown up.
He was sweet, though and treated her like she’d always wanted a man to treat her. She didn't care about the fancy restaurants or the extravagant gifts he gave her; she cared that he proudly showed her off to his friends and family, who all seemed to adore her. He was always a gentleman when she was with him.
Rick wasn’t much in the bedroom, but was that really important when you loved everything else about a person? Good sex wasn’t the be-all and end-all and certainly didn’t constitute a good relationship, right?
None of it mattered anymore, anyway. He’d shown his true colours and made sure she knew she wasn’t good enough for him. It was time to put him in her past and try to move forward. She’d cried over him all night, which was far too long in her book.
Glancing over at Dean working under the hood of the Camaro, she smiled to herself. Now that Rick was out of the picture and with how sweet the mechanic had been with her at the diner, the feelings she’d had for Dean since her first day working here were back. She grinned, remembering Dean telling her she was beautiful and worth it and Rick didn’t deserve–
“Watcha smiling at Cher?” Benny said, causing her to yelp and jump, banging her knee off the desk.
“God dammit, Benny! What d’ya do that for?” she whined, rubbing her sore knee and glaring at the laughing Cajun leaning against the doorframe. “What d’ya want?” she pouted.
“I’m sorry for scaring ya,” Benny chuckled. “Just wanted to see if you’re up for some drinks at the Roadhouse on Saturday.”
“Well… that depends,” Y/N furrowed her brows as she looked at him.
“On…?” Benny asked.
“Who’s going?” she replied.
“The usual: me and Donna, Cas and Meg…”
“Oh great! Couples being all…” she gestured wildly with her hands, trying to find the right word. “Coupley,” she finished, lips curling in distaste.
“Dean’s going too, so you two can couple-bash together,” Benny smirked.
“Sure. Until a hottie shows up in a belt claiming it’s a skirt, her boobs spilling out of a top that’s two sizes too small so they look way bigger than they actually are, and Dean goes all horndog over her. And then, as always, I’ll be the awkward third wheel while you guys all stare at each other with heart eyes,” Y/N rambled, and Benny looked on in amusement.
“You know what? Thanks for the invite Benny, but I think I should sit this one out,” she concluded.
“Aw, come on, Cher! It’ll be fun!” Benny tried putting on his best puppy eyes, and she rolled hers dramatically.
“For who, Benny? No one wants the bitter, newly single girl crashing their good time buzz,” she sighed exasperatedly.
“We do, Y/N/N. Look, just think about it, okay?” Benny pleaded.
“I appreciate it, Benny, but honestly, I don’t think it’ll be a fun night for me seeing two perfect couples be all mushy and Dean hitting on every girl there except…” she stopped abruptly.
“Except who, Cher?” Benny prodded, even though he already knew the answer.
“Doesn’t matter,” Y/N waved her hand dismissively.
“Yes, it does,” Benny tried one last time.
“I’ll think about it, okay? If there’s nothing else, I need to get on with these invoices.”
Benny nods, understanding that she wants the subject dropped. “He’s an asshole, you know.”
“Who?” Y/N’s brow furrows in confusion.
“Rick,” Benny says, and she gives a small, grateful smile. “Dean, too,” Benny winks and leaves her office before she questions him further. Those two idiots needed to sort this out for themselves, after all.
What Benny said had stunned her. Never in a million years would she think there was a chance Dean shared her feelings, but something in his face when he told her that Dean was an asshole had her thinking…
Nah. It’s too crazy. There’s no way he likes me.
She needs to get over this obsession with Dean. It’s unhealthy; she’s not his type and never will be. She’s not perfectly flawless or sexy like the women he takes home.
They’re just friends, and she needs to accept that’s all they’ll ever be.
Part Two >>
Jensen / Dean Tags: @akshi8278 @deanwanddamons @deans-baby-momma @siospins2 @sexyvixen7 @leigh70
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Supernatural Dean Winchester Mix Bingo
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I would just like to say this isn’t my square and I would like to give credit to whoever made it! Send in your requests for which box you would like and I will update everyone on which ones are taken. Starting Monday 3/20 I will post one request a day! Again if you would like to be a part of my taglist please let me know ❤️
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holylulusworld · 6 months
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Any fandom fluff bingo masterlist
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Preview for the upcoming fics to fill the squares.
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Square 1: ??? (Dean Winchester? x fem!Reader): Dislocated joint
Square 2: ??? (??? x fem!Reader): First date
Square 3: ??? (Bucky Barnes x Physiotherapist!Reader): Chronic pain
Square 4: ??? (Mafia!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader x Mafia!Bucky Barnes): "We have chickens."
Square 5: Cookies (Dean Winchester x fem!Reader): Free space
Square 6: ??? (??? x fem!Reader): Playground
Square 7: ??? (Alpha??? x Omega(fem)!Reader): Claiming marks
Square 8: ??? (??? x fem!Reader): The Olive Theory
Square 9: Dishonored (Prince!Steven Grant Rogers x Princess!Reader; Lord Barnes x Princess!Reader): "I never loved you."
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Find all other Bingos and Special Events here: Special Events  
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sofreddie · 2 years
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Just the Two of Us - Part 4
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Summary: Castiel gives in to his Alpha urges.
Characters: Alpha!Human!Cas x Beta!Female!Reader
Warnings: Season 9 AU, A/B/O Dynamics, Fluff, Smut (Unprotected Sex, Knotting), Angst
CASTIEL BINGO: VIRGINITY (@castiel-bingo)
FLUFF: FRIENDS TO LOVERS (@anyfandomfluffbingo)
WC: 905
A/N: Part 4 of the series. One more part after this. So very sorry for the long delay in posting/following up. Life. 🤷‍♀️
PART 3
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Cas suffered greatly with his rut, though he tried not to show it. He tried to control his Alpha, but he found his eyes followed her like a predator.
Y/N was growing increasingly affected by Cas's rut, despite being a Beta. She assumed it was mostly because she already wanted him in that way. The way he kept looking at her didn't help, making her clench her thighs every time.
As she busied herself in the kitchen, washing the dishes after lunch, Castiel couldn't manage to tear his gaze from her. His eyes trailed over her curves, lingering on her hips and ass. He licked his dry lips as he climbed from the recliner, his feet carrying him towards her of their own accord.
The Alpha within was quickly gaining control over him, the lust and need of his rut making him want only one thing. Even though she was a Beta, Cas felt a pull to her like that of Alphas and Omegas intended to be together, or at least it seemed that way from what he understood.
Not that he could really think straight when his cock was hard as nails, his blood boiling, and her scent growing stronger with every step he took closer to her.
"Y/N."
She jumped at his proximity, turning to face him with utter surprise. She had no idea he had snuck up on her, and so silently at that. The man before her was a mere shadow of the usual Castiel to which she was acquainted. This man was pure Alpha, seeped in pheromones and vibrating with need.
Betas were usually better at resisting the sexual need caused by Alpha and Omega pheromones. But Cas's scent and closeness had her head spinning. She suddenly needed him just as much.
Taking charge, as she usually did, she crashed her lips into his, giving in for the both of them. Cas responded in kind, letting his instincts guide him with what felt good and right. Y/N continued to devour his mouth, pushing him back towards the bed and falling on top of him when they got there.
In a flash, Cas had her flipped onto her back, him hovering over her as he stared down at her. She laughed and tried to fight for dominance once more, but he wasn't having it.
"You're always in charge," Cas muttered, kissing along her neck and breathing in her scent that electrified his spirit, "But right now," he breathed, meeting her eyes once more, "It's my turn to be in control."
Y/N shuddered beneath him, his tone dripping with sex and command in a way she'd never heard before.
"Yes, Alpha," she nodded dumbly as Cas grinned triumphantly.
He proceeded to strip them both bare, Y/N letting him do as he wished, even when some fabric ripped in the process. She couldn't care less. The hungry and desperate actions of the Alpha above her had her submitting to his every whim.
Enamored with the control she was giving him, and his Alpha getting the better of him, Cas pulled back just enough to flip her over, bringing her up on hands and knees. She gasped, before breaking into a moan, her head dropping to the mattress and knees spreading wider as she felt his Alpha cock running through her folds.
She'd be lying if she said she wasn't a little scared. Being an Alpha, he was bigger than she'd ever had before. Being a Beta, she wasn't designed to take it as an Omega could.
But she was determined to try.
Cas slid home in one smooth thrust, his hands holding her hips steady as he began a brutal rhythm. She knew he'd never had sex before, but his instincts were apparently guiding him well as he hammered home again and again.
It was painful, she couldn't lie. The mix of his bruising grip, his length slamming into her cervix, his girth stretching her wide around him. But the absolute pleasure of it all made it absolutely worth it. He hit every spot inside of her, his balls heavy and slapping against her clit. He laid his body over hers, his tongue licking fat stripes against her neck, making her shiver.
It all seemed to crash together in an instant. She came hard as she felt his knot expanding, the stretch of it feeling like it might rip her apart. His seed filling her extended her orgasm, the warmth and flow of it caressing her insides. But his teeth in her neck, claiming her, overrode all other sensations.
It hurt like nothing she'd ever experienced before, and she certainly wasn't expecting it either. Though Betas could be claimed, the mating process was harder on their bodies, making them heal slower and take longer to adjust to the bond.
She went limp and flat on the mattress, her body passing out. Cas, his urges now satiated and his rut cleared, looked down at her with concern. He turned them on their sides, struggling with the knot but managing after a few tries. She seemed okay, just asleep.
He knew it would be harder for her to heal from mating. He lapped at her claim, soothing it as his instincts told him, pulling back to check on it and licking it some more. Once his Alpha was satisfied, he allowed himself to drift to sleep, hoping maybe she'd have a plan when they woke.
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PART 5 (Final)
Forevers:
@sis-tafics
@lyarr24
@calaofnoldor
@hobby27
@spnbaby-67
@fangirlxwritesx67
@jarpad24
@flamencodiva
@donnaintx
@writercole
@waynes-multiverse
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Baby It's Cold Outside
Sam Winchester x plus size reader
A freak snow storm traps you and Sam in your motel room for the night so there’s only one thing for it, an evening of peace and quiet
Warnings: little bit spicy but not really full on smut, established relationship, around season 3, partial nudity, fluff, ok actually this is kind of smutty so SMUT
WC: 1.5k
Square Filled: Blizzard @spnchristmasbingo
Minors DNI
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SPN Christmas Bingo
“Well, it looks like we’re not going anywhere tonight.” Sam shut the flimsy motel curtains, blocking your view of the frankly violent blizzard occurring right outside. 
“That’s just great.” You moaned, flopping back onto the cheap bed, dropping your already packed duffle bag off the side. The shaggy haired man just chuckled and kicked off his boots, taking a seat beside you.
“It can’t be that bad being stuck here with me.” His pink lips turned up in an adorable smile, his dimples becoming prominent. A large hand cupped your full cheek and rolled over so he could rest his weight on his other hand, his lean body fitting between your soft thighs.
Your face flamed as you looked up at him, watching as the hazel in his eyes disappeared behind a haze of lust. “I could think of better things to do.” Your arms wound around his neck, pulling his face towards you.
“Oh? And what would that include?” The tip of his round nose brushed against yours, his breath fanning over your lips. From this close, you could see the small imperfections on his face that only served to make the young hunter even more beautiful. You could feel him growing hard against your thigh, the heat of him dangerously close to your core.
Silence settled over you like a comforting blanket. The orange glow of the streetlamp outside your room provided a comforting glow against the grey wash of the snow. Sam’s hair fell in front of his face and with a smooth motion, you brushed it back, your thumb gently caressing his clean shaven cheek. “I think that I should get undressed…” You started, your touch slowly moving downwards, lightly brushing each button of his flannel, feeling the strong chest hidden beneath only a couple layers of fabric.
“Keep going.” He was nosing at your neck now, lips tracing the trail of dark bruises he had left on your skin a few days before. You barely suppressed a gasp as he nibbled on a particularly sensitive mark right behind your ear.
“And then, once I’m completely naked, you should get naked too.” You could feel the way his lips turned up in a devilish smirk against your skin. He rested more of his weight on top of you, pinning your wide hips to the mattress, his other hand cupping one of your thighs.
“What then?” His voice dropped an octave, and you knew he was waiting for you to give your consent, to tell him to let loose and ravage you properly.
Your fingers slipped up into his shirt and caressed his abs, preening as they tightened beneath your palm. “Once you’re completely bare, perfect skin and cock on display for me, I want you to…” Your lips connected with his ear in a delicate peck before your tongue darted out and licked at the lobe. Sam shuttered above you, his thin hips bucking into yours. “Get in the shower cause you stink like ghoul.” And with a mighty shove, you pushed him off of you and he rolled to the floor.
There was a grunt, not of pain but more of annoyance, and then a head of messy brown hair popped up on the other side of the mattress. “That was mean.” He pouted but you just rolled your eyes.
“And you stink, go shower.” He huffed, clearly peeved about you working him up only to tell him to take a shower, yet he complied anyway. With a groan, the tall man stood up from the carpeted floor and began a very very slow walk to the bathroom.
His plaid came off first, quickly followed by his dark undershirt, letting you get a good look at his tanned, muscular back. Heat pooled in your already ruined panties and you knew that if he didn’t smell so awful from the hunt earlier that day, you would have happily joined him in the cramped shower. You heard the clink of his belt buckle.
You watched, hypnotised, as the leather was slowly pulled through the loops of his jeans, the denim sagging even more with every loop the belt moved through, exposing the top of his Saxx boxers. You bit down on your bottom lip as his jeans slipped down his powerful legs, his boxers quickly falling to the ground. 
As he walked away, you could see flashes of his cock bouncing in time with his strides. “Damn you Winchester.” You muttered to yourself, firmly turning away from your boyfriend to focus on the small sliver of window that wasn’t covered by the white curtains. You slipped from the bed and looked out onto the world.
Sam was right, snow was coming down from dark clouds quickly and with a surprising amount of force. Your truck which was parked just outside was already covered in a layer of white at least a couple inches thick. The wind screamed just outside, making the glass of the window wobble in its frame. 
Yet you smiled. Maybe this could be good for you both, it had been a very long time, if ever, that you had any much needed time to yourselves. With the desperate search for a way to break Dean’s deal and dealing with the fallout of John’s death, you needed a vacation.
With a quick text to Bobby and Dean, assuring them that you were fine, just trapped for the evening, you shut off both yours and Sam’s phones. Quickly, you stripped off your dirty clothes and pulled on a shirt from his bag before pulling all of the sheets and blankets from the bed and piled them on the couch.
By the time you heard the shower shut off, you had created a blanket fort just large enough for you both, complete with the motel radio and a flashlight that you covered with a piece of fabric, dousing the small area in a dim glow. 
“Princess?” Sam’s confused tone made you smile as you poked your head up and out of the blankets. He had pulled on a fresh pair of boxers, his hair, though mostly dry, still had some droplets of water clinging to the ends. Your eyes followed a particularly large drop as it fell from one of the long strands and rolled down the front of his body until it reached the neatly timed patch of hair that peaked out over his underwear.
“I’m right here, handsome.” You answered, desperately trying to keep your voice level. You wanted at least an hour of just nice cuddling before your boyfriend wrecked you. His kaleidoscope eyes softened as they landed on you and like a dog following their master, he strode across the room, keen to wrap you up in his arms.
There was a brief struggle as he fit his long limbs into the fragile structure but soon, his back was propped up against the couch cushions, his legs stretched out in front of him as you lay on his lap, ear firmly pressed against his chest, listening to the strong beating of his heart. 
Large hands skimmed your back beneath your shirt, holding you as close as he could. Your own hands held his ribs, feeling the way he inhaled and exhaled, holding tight like he was your lifeline. “This was a great idea.” He murmured into your hair.
Sighing, you glanced up at him. “I’m glad you think so, it’s even better now that you don’t smell like you crawled through the sewer.” There was a slight hitch in his breath and you could tell he wanted to retort something sassy but instead he just smiled against the top of your head.
“You know what would make this even better?” There was a teasing tone to his voice that sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine.
“What’s that?” You expected him to respond in a similar manner to your own teasing from earlier but Sam always had a trick up his sleeve.
“If you were sitting on my cock, keeping me nice and warm while we watch the snow fall.” A moan slipped past your lips before you could stop it. And he laughed heartily, shaking your body with the force. “Sorry, couldn’t help it.” He said between chuckles.
“Yeah you could.” It was your turn to pout now.
“You’re right but it was pretty funny.” You glared at him, face set with determination. Suddenly, your cold hands were in his boxers, gripping his considerable length. Sam hissed at both the coldness of your skin and the feel of you finally touching him where he needed you.
“I guess I should prove you wrong though. Just cuddling is so much better than cock warming.” You rocked forward onto your knees which were planted by his hips, and guided him back to your entrance.
“Go on princess, prove me wrong.” He growled, indulging your challenge. You huffed and sat down, back arching almost painfully as you struggled to take him fully. “Fuck.” Sam groaned. His jaw was locked, the muscles working over as he let you do what you wanted to him.
“S-see, just -shit- cuddling is better.” Your plump body trembled on top of him as he threw his head back, exposing his long neck to your hungry lips.
“I can see your point now.”
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queen-of-deans-booty · 2 months
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A Big Misunderstanding
Pairing: Lucifer x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.9k
Warnings: relationship angst, giving the silent treatment, fluff at the end
Request by anon: I wanted to ask for spn lucifer x reader…they are married she would have been a hunter in the past, but she left the business with him, "giving up" on being the devil, and they actually like live normal life…once she gives him the silent treatment because he was "mean" to sam and dean (they are like brothers), and he just He does little things to kind of get her off her chest so she can talk to him (even if it's shouting), and when she tries to do or fix the little things he did/ or broken but without talking to him yet he just goes to the guys (the brothers, cass and jack) for help and apologizes just to make it up to her!!! (the boys make fun of him but he accepts defeat because not talking to her is worse than having people irritate him
Summary: Your passion is sewing and you love to make clothes and blankets for people, especially the Winchesters whom you consider to be family. When you overhear a conversation you shouldn't have heard, you get pissed enough at Lucifer to give him the silent treatment. Best thing? He has no idea what he's done but he'll try hard to make it right.
Square Filled: never go to bed on an argument for @as-the-saying-goes-bingo (deleted bingo)
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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x
Three down only ten more to go. You have a lot of people who want to buy dresses from you so you’re slowly making your way through the list of orders from people. You’re only on the first order but you’ve gotten done three of the thirteen items they wanted. Sewing and making clothes and blankets is your dream. You love making things people can wear or snuggle with, and you’ve always had this passion ever since you could write.
You’d draw your designs and show your mom who was also a seamstress for a clothing store. She entertained your ideas and gave you a small sewing kit that you’d use to make your Barbie’s clothes. She was so impressed that she got you into sewing classes as soon as possible. You started off making small things like gloves, oven mitts, baby clothes, and other easy projects before working your way up to the harder items.
Now, you have your own business that is run by you and only you, and you work out of your home. You don’t have the money to buy a big store or hire employees. Plus, you kind of like doing it all by yourself. At least you can look at someone wearing your clothes and say, “Yes, I made that all on my own.” or “They’re wearing an original Y/N.”. You pour love and pride into every piece you make and it shows.
The door opens and your husband walks in with a look of confusion.
“Have you been here all day?”
You look at him like you were just caught with your hand in the cookie jar.
“I have orders to make.”
“Being in your room all day isn’t going to help you. You need to get out and move around.” You know he’s right, and your ass is hurting from sitting all day. You nod in agreement and get up, setting your project aside for now. “Come on, let’s go on a walk.”
Never did you think you’d ever go on a brisk walk with the actual devil. The neighborhood you live in is very mellow so you go a few laps around it.
“Want to hear what I’m working on?”
“Sure.”
“So, Janice across the street asked for baby clothes for her daughter’s kid, Bruce and David want some slacks for David’s new job next month, and Ruby from the diner wants a blanket. Ooh! What if I make us another blanket?”
“Darling, we have eighty blankets in the house already.”
“And?”
“We have enough,” Lucifer laughs and kisses the top of your head.
Who is he and what has he done with your husband? He is so not the man you met years ago. He was so much harder and meaner than he is now. After Sam killed Lilith and brought the devil out of the cage, he was one of the meanest men you’ve ever met. His behavior and attitude were atrocious.
It didn’t get any better even after Sam let him in so he could trap him in the cage with Adam and Michael. The cage stayed closed for five years until Amara was released because Dean got his Mark removed from his arm by the Book of the Damned. Lucifer convinced Castiel that he could possess him so that he could leave the cage, and he wreaked havoc on the world because of it. After Amara expelled him from Castiel’s body, he disappeared for a while. He decided that he was going to be done with all this shit.
That’s when you came back into his life. He met you again after he had come to terms with living a simple life. Sam and Dean had pissed you off enough that you wanted to be solo for a while, and you and Lucifer formed a relationship. The Winchesters weren't thrilled to hear you had a thing for the devil, but they trusted you enough to know what you were doing.
You had scammed your way into a very nice resort where he was staying and hit it off. Eventually, you got married to him. You’re not a hunter anymore, he’s not the devil anymore, it’s just you and him until death parts you. Lucifer’s changed behavior is all because of you. Before you, he was angry at the world for what his dad did to him but after you, he wanted to live for you and for you only.
Only after you’ve finished with all of your commissions, you start working on some stuff for the Winchesters. Winter is coming up, and the Bunker has a terrible heating system. You figured they could use a few extra jackets, shirts, and blankets.
They gave you a key to the Bunker should you ever need to use it, so you let yourself in carrying the clothes. Sam and Dean are talking to someone in the library so they don’t notice you coming down the metal staircase in the war room. Suddenly, Lucifer’s voice is heard, and you look at the entryway in confusion. Why is he here? What does he want from the brothers?
“I can’t trust you to do anything! You two are brainless, hairless apes who have no idea what the fuck you’re doing!”
“Maybe next time give us better instruction,” Dean argues.
“God, you had one job and you managed to fuck that up. Typical,” he scoffs.
Why is he being so mean to Sam and Dean? You’re hurt he’d say such vile and mean things to the two men you consider family. You leave the clothes on one of the control panels before leaving the Bunker quickly. You don’t let them know you were ever here. If Lucifer wants to resort to who he was before, then he can but you’re not going to stand by him.
Lucifer comes home hours later in a good mood. You’re in the kitchen cooking food for yourself when he enters. He frowns when he sees enough food for one person in the pan.
“Is that food for both of us?” he asks. You don’t answer him and continue to cook in silence. “Y/N?” Still, no answer. “Darling, are you okay?” No answer. “Are you ignoring me? What did I do?” Again, no answer. “Y/N?”
You don’t go to bed that night because you and Lucifer have a thing where you never go to bed on an argument. Instead, you make more clothes. Lucifer didn’t go to bed either mostly because he kept thinking about why you’re ignoring him. What did he do to piss you off? In the morning, he goes to the room where you make your clothes to try and talk to you but finds the door is locked.
“Y/N, open the door.” No answer. He can hear your sewing machine so he knows you’re in there. “Come on, darling, open the door.”
He is at a loss for words because he doesn’t understand what he did to make you like this. He gives you the space you need for the morning, but you need food eventually so you leave the room in search of some. Lucifer is in the kitchen when you get there but you make no move to acknowledge him.
Lucifer is drinking some water and reading a newspaper. He finishes the water before dropping the glass on the ground. The glass shatters and he watches your reaction to it. He doesn’t care if all you’re going to do is yell at him. He just wants you to do something. You pause and look at the glass on the ground before grabbing the broom. You don’t say a word as you clean it up and throw it away.
“I just broke a glass! You should be pissed at me. Yell at me! Something!” Lucifer gasps. Again, you don’t respond to him. “Fuck!” He walks over to you and points his finger in your face but doesn’t actually touch you. He knows you fucking hate this which is why he’s doing it. He’s such a fucking child. “I’m not touching you. You can’t get mad at me because I’m not touching you.”
You stand still and wait for him to be done before moving around him and heading back to your room to sew. Lucifer doesn't know what to do so he visits the Winchesters in search of answers. Castiel and Jack are in the room, too. Great, more people to witness this humiliation.
“Here to berate us some more?” Dean asks.
“I need your help,” he sighs.
“What?”
“I said I need your help.”
Before Sam can answer, Dean cuts in.
“Sorry, let me just take in this moment. You need us. Isn’t that something?”
“Don’t be an ass.”
“No, I definitely will.”
“What do you need?” Sam asks.
“Y/N isn’t talking to me. She’s ignoring me and I have no idea what I did to piss her off. What do I do? I don’t care if she yells at me. I need her to do something.”
“Sorry, can’t help you there, buddy,” Dean shrugs.
“Does she know you’re an ass?” Castiel asks seriously.
“Yeah, let’s make fun of me. Seriously, you’re so funny.” Lucifer mocks laughs in their faces, ready to punch the shit out of them. “What do I do?”
“Have you tried apologizing?” Jack asks.
“I don’t know what I should be apologizing for.”
“It doesn’t matter. All women want to hear is that you’re sorry. Try that. It might get her talking,” Dean sighs.
Lucifer goes home with more questions than answers. Still, he thinks about their words the whole way home. When he gets there, you’re in the living room watching one of your shows. As soon as you know he’s there, you tense and turn the volume up on the TV. He walks around to face you but you don’t look at him.
“Darling, I am so sorry.”
“For what?” you ask and look at him.
Lucifer opens his mouth to answer but nothing comes out. You scoff as you get up from the couch. You go to leave the room but Lucifer is hot on your heels.
“I am sorry, but you can’t expect me to read your mind to figure out why you’re so pissed at me. You have to communicate, darling. What did I do?”
“You berated Sam and Dean and put them down for what? ‘You two are brainless, hairless apes who have no idea what the fuck you’re doing!’ Does that ring a bell? You treat them like shit.”
“I’ve said worse things to them.” You cross your arms angrily. “Look, I am sorry. I have a really bad temper, and I was trying to surprise you with something. I needed their help getting it but they did it wrong. It pissed me off because I wanted it to be perfect for you.”
“What is it?”
Lucifer takes you to one of the unfinished rooms in the house. You never got around to actually finishing it, but Lucifer has been working on it without you knowing. You walk in and gasp at what you see. Machines are lined up on the back wall, rolls and rolls of fabric hang off tubes, mannequins are in the other corner, and everything else you need to have a successful sewing business.
“I wanted it to be perfect and I took it out on them. I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
You rush into the room and admire everything he’s done for you. He’s trying to apologize but you’re too busy being excited.
“Is this all for me?!”
“Yeah, everything,” he smiles. “Do you like it?”
“Like it? I love it!!”
“Am I forgiven?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Not talking to you was killing me.”
Lucifer pulls you into him and kisses you, glad to have overcome this with you.
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spnexploration · 2 years
Text
Masterlist
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Dean Winchester x Reader
Catatonic + Catatonic: Bonus Bit - Sam gets hurt on a hunt, but the message doesn't seem to be getting through to Dean. The reader has to think of something quickly to motivate him to move, but how will Dean take being threatened? And what happens when there are questions at the hospital?
Collared (masterlist) - Sam and Dean save a woman from where she has been held as a slave by a witch. But things turn dark whenever they try to take her magic collar off, leaving them with a slave to look after and a curse to break.
Christmas Baking - a short, fluffy fic for Secret Santa. Does include a touch of A/B/O dynamics.
Hello - light-hearted fluff fic in a royalty AU
Blood - angsty drabble
Tell me this isn't yours - slightly less angsty drabble
Captions - a silly, funny one-shot
Pack (masterlist) - Omega!Reader is thrown into a world she's not expecting when her mate turns out to be a hunter, and she's not used to Alpha & Omega Pack dynamics.
I've Got You - Dean rescues you. Lots of Protective!Dean vibes!
Distress - There's a monster hunting distressed Omegas. As an Omega Hunter, you're perfect for playing bait. Only problem is Dean is going to have to get you distressed...
Little O - In a world where Omegas are kept in line through frequent orgasms, Dean can't work out why his Omega's "O"s keep wearing off. This is not lovely Dean, but he's not dark either.
Trouble - you're in trouble with your Dom, Dean. Fairly classic punishment and then smut, with a lot of explicit consent built in.
Escort - Dean needs an escort to help him with his cover on a case (more of a case fic and flirting, no smut)
A Christmas Case - Dean drags you out of bed to go to a case, ruining your Christmas plans. But does he have a plan to make up for it?
Comments - A man you're interviewing makes some crap comments about your body, and Dean doesn't help. Can he make it up to you?
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Sam Winchester x Reader
Bad Timing - Set in season 5, what happens when Dean and Sam are trying to avoid angels and demons at every turn, but then Sam's girlfriend falls pregnant? Part 2
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Platonic fics
Brotherly Figures (masterlist) - Sam and Dean save a 15 year old, newly orphaned teenager from vampires. Much to their chagrin, she ends up tagging along on hunts, giving them both a fresh chance at acting like a brotherly figure.
Accidents happen - While guest acting on Supernatural, things go awry filming a fight scene with Jensen.
Captions - a silly, funny one-shot (also listed above, but nothing actually happens with Dean, so you can easily read it platonically or not)
First Heat - 16yo Dean Winchester is presenting, and he's not having a fun time of it
Challenges I've done
2023 SPN AU Bingo
Whumptober 2023 - First Heat
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winchester-girl67 · 2 years
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Happy Hour
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Summary: The reader returns home after a night at the club realizing she's taken something that she shouldn't have. Her neighbour, Dean, notices when she's practically locked out of her house and spends the night with her.
Pairing: AU!Dean x reader
Square: Quote B: @supernatural-jackles​ 6. "I dare you to kiss me." Neighbour AU @spnfluffbingo​
Word Count: 3,188
Warnings: drugged!reader, drugs, vomiting, implied/light smut, mature themes, kissing/cuddling, pining, language, mainly fluff, a little angst maybe
A/N: Don’t do drugs, this is pure fiction. Written for @spnfluffbingo​ and @supernatural-jackles​’ Tell Me a Story bingo.
_____
You felt everything, the beat of your heart pumping in your chest and ears and throat. The tiny hairs on your arms prickling with the goosebumps crawling over your skin. The artificial street lights stinging your wide eyes and tunnelling through your head. Your breath on your lips was heavy and quick. The throbbing need between your legs running through the veins in your thighs.
Fuck.
You shouldn't have taken that 'Aspirin' from your 'friend' at the club. This felt more like a high, like you were flying and couldn't come down. You didn't know what you took. It definitely wasn't Aspirin though.
Your skin misted over with sweat and there was no way you could hide your high. Not with the long Uber ride back to your house for it to take hold of you completely.
Fucking hell.
You paid the uber driver when he dropped you off. At least you thought you did because he drove away without a word and you stumbled up to your front door.
"Had a little much tonight?" Your nosy neighbour, Dean, asked from his front porch as you struggled to penetrate the lock with your key. You weren't holding a key you realized, or your purse and fished out the spare from the plant pot behind you. Trying again. "Here let me help." He jumped over the shared railing of your adjoined houses and slid his hand over yours.
Okay, maybe he wasn't nosy. He was interested, but you never gave him the time of day. For whatever reason you couldn't remember as you blinked up at him and leaned back against the door.
He chuckled and pressed his palm against your cheek. Your skin igniting in a searing flame hotter than an iron left in a fire pit. But it was an enjoyable heat. You closed your eyes, feeling all of him in that single touch.
Damn it, this was too intense.
You couldn't wrap your mind around any of it. Couldn't stop any of the feelings you were having. It was thrilling but scary.
"Y/N," he sounded far away, "I can't open the door with you leaning on it."
"Hmm," you hummed, not hearing him and pressing your cheek further into his palm.
The heat of his body consumed you as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you to lean on him instead. Your eyes were still closed and you teased your bottom lip, pressing your face into his neck and holding onto his shoulders for support.
You heard your door creak open on rusted hinges and Dean walked you inside. You couldn't let go. Your skin was on fire and you felt too much of him. You felt dizzy.
"Y/N," he murmured against your ear. His thick breath filled the shell of it and you moaned. Out loud. He chuckled. "I'm flattered but you are wasted. Holy shit, sweetheart, how much did you drink?"
"I don't feel so good," you said, hiding your face in his scruff and swallowing down the bile that started to rise.
"Bathroom?" He asked.
You nodded and he lifted you into his arms.
Your legs locked around his waist causing a whole new sensation for you to be aware of. It felt good at first, but this was too much now. Your mind clouded and you clung to him tighter with a whimper. Your pulse pounding through every inch of you.
Dean grunted when you pulled his hair and you mumbled out a 'Sorry'. Your muscles shook and you were seconds from vomiting all over his back.
He dropped you to your feet and you spun around, landing on your knees in front of the toilet. Emptying the contents of your stomach into the porcelain bowl.
You groaned following your second wave of sickness, Dean brushing your hair from your face and wiping you down with a wet cloth. You welcomed the coolness and started to feel a little better.
Then the shivers started and Dean sat behind you, holding your hair and rubbing your back. It should've felt nice, but it made your stomach roll and you leaned back into him to make the motion of his hand stop.
He wrapped his arms around you instead, "You took something didn't you?"
"I think so."
"I feel like I should bring you to the hospital."
"I'm fine, it's passing. I think I threw up some of it." You wiped your mouth with your hand and wiped your hand on the skirt of your dress.
Your mouth tasted gross coated in bile and you knew you smelled. There were chunks of nachos in your hair. Dean hadn't been able to get it all out with the washcloth.
He rested his chin on your head, "I'm worried about you."
"You worry too much." You breathed, just happy to be still with him for the moment.
Your nerve endings were all on high alert and you felt oversensitive in every way.
You felt him sigh into your hair, "You live alone and you don't ever let me help you with anything. But you're always so sweet and I'd feel bad if something happened to you because you were alone. You need someone right now, please don't push me away. If only just this once."
You didn't answer. You lifted your hands to weakly grip his forearms that rested around your waist. A way letting him know he could stay. He sighed again and squeezed you just a fraction tighter.
When it was clear you were done vomiting, you brushed your teeth. Twice. And rinsed with Listerine.
You looked in the mirror with Dean standing behind you, ready to catch you if your knees gave out. Your pupils were blown wide, all the Y/E/C colour lost on the edges. No wonder your eyes hurt in the light.
Your eyes teared and you played with your crusty hair, "I need a shower." You turned around when Dean shook his head.
"You can barely stand on your own, I don't trust you not to fall."
You wanted a shower still and stared at the glass stall, then him. If he was afraid you'd fall then he'd just have to join you. You lifted your dress over your head and dropped it to the ground. Every exposed inch of Dean turned rosy and he dropped his gaze to your breasts for a split second before he caught himself.
"Fuck." He palmed his mouth, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. "Please, don't take off anymore. This is hard enough."
You still had your plain underwear and bra on but the way he reacted was as if you were already bare in front of him. You wanted to laugh but your stomach muscles hurt too much to. You took a shaky step forward and lifted his black t-shirt at the hem, working it up his stomach until he took the hint and stripped it off, piling it with your dress on the floor. You reached for his belt buckle next, a little surprised at yourself for the boldness and the fact you'd never seen him this way before, but you knew the drugs were still in your system.
Dean caught your hands and pushed them away. You frowned in disappointment. You wanted to feel him now that you were starting to feel good again. He stared into your eyes for a long second, then dropped his jeans, leaving him in his tightly fitted boxers.
He took your hands again and led you towards the shower, letting the spray heat up before stepping into it with you. You tilted your head back, wetting your hair and feeling the ends of each hair scratch down your back. It felt amazing and you let out a strangled moan, sucking your bottom lip at the end of your breath.
"Y/N, please don't make that sound." Dean said, squeezing your hands in his.
You met his gaze and pushed a hand past his and held his arm near his elbow. The muscles under his skin tensed and you let out a squeak, trying to hold back your noises for his benefit. Though, you thought you only made it worse.
You felt waves of pleasure mixed with waves of sickness over the slightest touch. But the highs were high and you wanted to touch him, taste him; his lips, his earlobes, his throat, his...
"I wanna see you," you pulled your hands free and tugged at his boxers.
You weren't thinking really. Acting purely on desire and impulse. Your nails digging into the wet material of his waistband.
"No." He wriggled away from you, but you persisted until he caught your hands again and pulled them to his chest. "You're high, Y/N, stop." 
His fingers felt like handcuffs around your wrists. "Why?"
"Because."
"Because, why?"
"Because I'm trying real hard to be a gentleman right now." He said, you flexed your fingers against the freckled skin of his chest.
Eyes trailing down the curve of his neck, watching the water droplets collect along his collarbone and run off. All thought left your mind and you leaned forward attaching your lips to the curve of it, nipping lightly and trailing up his neck. Feeling his pulse deepen against your delicate flesh. You heard a frustrated groan but you weren't sure which of you it came from.
Dean took your shoulders in his hands and pushed you away to look into your eyes, "That can wait." His voice was deep and thick. You pouted your lip and he kissed your forehead hard. Then added, "Just not tonight, okay? I don't want you to think I took advantage of you in the morning. Now, turn around."
You turned in his hold so you faced the spout of the shower and felt Dean's fingers in your hair. He dragged the strands away from your face and underneath the spray. You turned up the heat of the water until you could feel it in the bones of your toes and your veins glowed bright red against your skin.
"I think you're hot enough," Dean reached in front of you to turn down the heat but you dragged his hand back and laid it flush against your stomach instead. "Let me take care of you."
You let him pull his hand back, feeling it linger on your hip. Maybe the water was too hot. You didn't adjust it though.
Then his fingers were in your hair again, massaging honey and cucumber scented shampoo into your scalp and you closed your eyes. The air around you was so thick with steam that you felt it heavy in your lungs. You started to feel dizzy again in the heat and braced yourself against the wall. The sleek tile against your cheek cooled you down slightly as his nails gently scratched behind your ears and down your neck and then back up again.
He took the nozzle of the shower hose and rinsed out your hair. Repeating the process with some conditioner until the strands slipped through his fingers with ease. You would've fallen asleep had your senses not been in overdrive. Every touch made you want him more and you bit your cheek until you tasted copper and whimpered.
The water shut off and you opened your eyes. Dean wrapping the largest towel you owned around your shoulders and directing you out of the stall. He grabbed a towel off the back of the door for himself and wrapped it around his hips before shimmying out of his wet boxers. He rang them out and tossed them over the door of the shower to dry.
You tried to do the same but your movements weren't as elegant and the towel slipped before Dean caught it, blushing hard. He held it up for you as you removed your bra and panties, tossing them haphazardly to the shower floor.
You hadn't noticed that you were standing in front of the mirror until you grabbed the towel back from Dean. His eyes sunk down from the ceiling when you wrapped the soft material around yourself feeling a little too high to be embarrassed by the show he most likely got. Since the fog on the mirror let up quicker than it took you to change.
Lucky him.
Your eyes fell down his bare chest, water droplets still clinging to his skin as you chewed on your lip again. It was blatantly obvious what you were thinking and Dean seemed to shift uncomfortably when you wet your lips.
He cleared his throat and you met his gaze, "Stop looking at me like that."
"Hm, like what?" Your gaze fell again.
"Like that! Like I'm a piece of meat."
"I seem to remember you looking at me a lot like that." You said, winking at him playfully. "Like when I come home from the gym in my purple leggings."
"That's different."
"How?"
"I don't know, it just is."
"Why?"
"Because, it is."
"Because it is, why?"
"I'm not doing this with you again, Y/N." He sighed and breathed into his palm, rubbing the scruff on his chin. "It's just different."
"That's a double standard." You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring up at him.
"One I enjoy immensely," he smirked and mirrored your flirty wink.
You pouted, "But it's not fair. You have a nice body, why can't I notice, too?"
"You're right," he sighed and placed his hands on your shoulders, "Do me a favour though, don't notice until you're sober."
"Why?" You asked again but he didn't answer like you thought he would this time.
He just chuckled and pulled you into his chest, "Let's get you to bed, Y/N. Walk this way."
He twirled you around and shuffled behind you as he directed you towards the bedroom. The layout of his house mirrored yours so you weren't surprised when he found your room on the first try when he pushed one of the doors open.
"But I'm not sleepy," you whined and twirled back around when Dean nudged you towards the bed.
He sighed again, "What if I lay down with you for a while? Could you try to sleep it off then?"
"Yeah," you beamed and nodded, throwing back the comforters to crawl into the bed.
You didn't think you could spend the night in that big bed alone. Not tonight, not the way you were feeling. You felt like an open sore, achy and oozing. Even if Dean didn't want to be intimate until you were sober enough to remember the night you'd have with him, at least he could hold your pieces together and keep you from falling apart completely.
You squirmed until he slipped into bed next to you and you were able to curl into his side and cling to him. Your skin heated uncomfortably though, so you wiggled out of your towel and threw it across the room. You heard Dean huff out a nervous laugh as you cuddled into him again and pressed your face into his flushed neck. Your bare chest pressed to his and you felt a tingle rush through the sensitive peaks of flesh meeting his.
You might've made a small noise of contentment, but you couldn't hear past your own ears. You sighed, feeling Dean swallow and catch your wandering hand against his lower stomach. He held your palm over his heart instead and the heavy thump, thump of it lulled you to sleep. Near sleep at least, as you closed your eyes and breathed in his scent.
"You're not gonna leave, right? Like I'm not gonna wake up in the middle of the night and you won't be here?" You asked, your skin humming against his.
"I'll be here when you wake up, sweetheart," he promised, his voice deep and husky again like he'd just woken up. "I'll even make you breakfast."
"No way! Like pancakes and bacon and eggs and-"
"Yes," Dean chuckled, "Whatever you want, I'll make it for you. Just sleep now, and no funny business." He squeezed your palm in his as if he wasn't the only one aware that only a thin piece of damp material separated the two of you, "I mean it, Y/N."
You giggled and laced your fingers together. Happy with the buzz stemming from the pulse in your fingertips syncing with his. That's what it felt like, your hearts beating to the same drum. You wondered if he felt it too, or if it was just another side effect of the drug.
"Dean. I dare you to kiss me."
You pulled your face from his neck and tilted your head up to him. He looked at you for a moment and smirked, the smile reaching his eyes and crinkling the corners. He leaned in close and cupped your cheek with both your hands still entwined. Then kissed you on the forehead and chuckled when you sulked.
"Dare me tomorrow." He said, releasing your hand to tug the comforters over your shoulders.
You relented and placed your palm back over his heart, allowing the thump to pull you asleep this time. Letting the drugs finally wear thin as you slept them off. All night. And waking in the morning in the same position with Dean's hand on your waist and a tired fog clouding your mind. His thumb aimlessly brushing back and forth over your skin.
"How long have you been awake?" You asked as the events from the night before started to replay in your mind. This time with a new level of embarrassment creeping into your cheeks. "I'm not wearing any pyjamas, am I?"
"Nope." He said, checking your pupils in the morning sunlight streaming through breaks in the curtains. Seemingly satisfied, he smirked. "Still dare me?"
It only took a second for your cheeks to burn and you realized that line you'd drawn with him when you first moved in a year ago needed to be reevaluated. "Yeah."
Dean's hand left your waist and he lifted your chin with a finger. He dipped his head at an angle and fit his lips perfectly over yours. Kissing you with the weight of a feather for only a second.
You almost missed it, "I dare you to kiss me like I know you want to." You said.
He smiled as his fingers trailed up your jaw and tangled in the hair on the nape of your neck. He brushed his lips against yours teasingly and chuckled before he smashed his mouth to yours. Sucking the breath straight from your lungs until they burned in a way that wasn't displeasing. He pulled away, then ducked back in for another kiss and then another one. Kissing you so many times that you felt high all over again. A better type of high this time though. A natural high.
Your lips chilled without the warmth of his mouth when he finally pulled away. 
"Dare me to try again?" He asked and you bit your lip as you nodded. Dean kissed you breathless once more before he remembered, "I promised you breakfast, didn't I?"
_________________________
A/N: Read part 2 here
_________________________ 
 Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278​ @laycblack​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @crustycheeks​ @kazsrm67​ @sexyvixen7​ @lyarr24​ @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99​ @yvonneeeee​
Forever SPN: @hobby27​
Tell Me a Story Bingo: @princessvader15​ 
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muffinbeliever · 2 years
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The Cuddling Scheme
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The reader, Team Free Will 2.0, and Charlie have a movie night.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 1068
Warnings: none! 
Square Filled: Movie Night @spnfluffbingo
A/N: hello ! here is a short little one shot for my fluff bingo card! its honestly just a bunch of family time and a little bit of dean time. enjoy !!
Masterlist | SPN Fluff Bingo 2022 Masterlist
“Y/N, hurry up!” Charlie’s voice bounced off the concrete walls of the bunker. The microwave beeped and you rushed over, quickly pulling out the steaming paper bag.
“Ouch! Fuck!” Your fingertips slightly burned, but you had dealt with worse— much worse. 
“Okay! Okay! I’m coming!” You called back, pouring the freshly-made popcorn into a large metal bowl. You grabbed the second bowl that you had made only minutes before from the counter, rushing over to the Dean Cave. 
Movie night was long overdue, and tonight was perfect since Charlie was spending a couple of nights at the bunker after a weekend at Comic-Con in Wichita. You were on popcorn duty after an unanimous vote— excluding you— had decided that you made the best popcorn. You only had to make two bags though, as Cas didn’t eat anything and Sam had his bag of kale chips. Charlie wasn’t the biggest popcorn eater, so you figured she’d just eat some of yours if she felt like it. 
You smiled at the scene that greeted you as you walked into the Dean Cave. Jack sat in the front on a beanbag that he had claimed as his own. He was laughing as he talked to Cas. The older angel was seated in one of the armchairs that flanked the left of the long couch. He was nursing a beer— his fifth one to be exact— his eyes shining at Jack’s happiness. Dean was talking to Charlie, both sitting on opposite sides of the couch leaving the middle open for you. Sam was sitting on the other armchair, munching away at his kale chips while on his phone, most likely looking for a new case. 
“Thank you, Y/N,” Jack said with a smile when you handed him a bowl of popcorn. You returned his smile and settled into your spot, handing the larger bowl of popcorn to Dean so you could adjust the pillow behind your back. He shoved a handful of the buttery treat into his mouth.
“Mmm,” he groaned, “Delicious as always, sweetheart.” He winked at you, causing little, nervous flutters in your stomach. You looked away before he could notice your blush, locking eyes with Charlie. 
“Yeah, Y/N,” she said, her eyes filled with mirth, “Delicious.” She gave you a cheesy wink that had you rolling your eyes. 
“Shut up,” you muttered, not wanting Dean to catch wind of your conversation. Luckily, he was too preoccupied throwing popcorn at Jack, while the younger angel tried to catch it in his mouth. After several failed attempts— that left several pieces of popcorn scattered around Jack— Dean focused his attention elsewhere, pelting Sam instead. 
“Dude,” Sam said, annoyed as he shook a kernel out of his long hair, “Cut it out.” 
“Come on Sammy, a little popcorn never hurt anyone. It sure as hell beats those toasted vegetables you’re munching on,” Dean teased.
“They’re called kale chips, Dean,” Sam said, rolling his eyes at his older brother. 
“Why don’t we start the movie?” Charlie interrupted before Dean could respond. 
The TV— having been long forgotten since they had chosen the movie— had turned off its screen, but one click of the remote had it up and running. You subtly flinched at the creepy doll blankly staring through the screen. 
“A horror movie? Really?” You laughed, hoping no one could hear the slight tremble of nerves in your voice. “Our life is one big horror movie. Don’t you want a change for once?” 
“Come on, Y/N. It’s just a stupid storyline with stupid writers who think they know what they’re doing. We face the real deal every day,” Dean argued. “Unless… you’re scared?” Your heart raced as you feigned confidence.
“Please, I fight monsters for a living. I’m not scared of a stupid doll.” He smirked. 
“It’s settled then. Cas, hit the lights,” Dean responded, relaxing into the back of the couch. 
The lights went out, leaving only the TV to illuminate the room. Charlie started the movie while everyone began to settle in. You shifted to your side, swinging your legs into Dean’s open lap, and he automatically placed his hands over them, drawing little circles on your shins. You nestled into the couch, placing the bowl of popcorn on your lap. Dean reached behind him, grabbing two beer bottles from the table. He handed one to you and took a swig out of the other. 
It was a typical horror movie filled with blood, gore, and creepy music. Jack was often confused, asking questions like, “If the doll is a cursed object, why don’t they just burn it?” and “Why aren’t they shooting the ghosts with salt rounds?” Every jump scare had you flinching and clinging on to Dean’s arm— not that the older hunter said anything about it. You swore you caught him smirking a couple of times though. 
After what seemed like forever, but was really just a couple of hours at most, the movie was over. Sam got up from his chair, and turned on the light, collecting the empty beer bottles littered around the room. Charlie yawned and stretched, before getting up and announcing she was going to bed. Cas and Jack followed, leaving you and Dean alone in the room. 
The popcorn was long gone, the empty bowl abandoned on the floor at some point, and you were practically in Dean’s lap. He was holding you as you huddled into his warm, hard chest. 
“Sorry,” he whispered, and you looked up at him in confusion. “Why?” His green eyes met yours, and he gave you a sheepish smile.
“I picked the movie, even though I knew you didn’t like horror movies,” he confessed. “I just wanted to hold you.” 
Your eyes narrowed, and you pulled away from his arms. His face fell.
“Sweetheart, I—” You reached behind you for a pillow, and lightly smacked him with it. 
“That was for intentionally scaring me,” you told him, before leaning in and kissing his cheek.
“And that?” He muttered, his eyes closed as his cheek tingled from the feeling of your soft lips.
“That was for holding me when I was scared,” you told him, happily, before nestling back into him. 
“I’ll hold you forever,” he whispered. His arms wrapped around you tightly, and a light kiss was placed to the top of your head. You sighed, content in his embrace. 
Taglist: @akshi8278 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @lanea-1 @slamminmine @bluedragonflylady @cevans-winchester
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Text
Crowned
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Title: Crowned
Pairing: Prince!Sam Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 7k
Warnings: Whipping, brief language, slight angst, mostly fluff
Square Filled: Secret Relationship
Summary: Y/N is a castle kitchen maid in Lawrence, where Prince Samuel is scheduled to ascend to the throne on Christmas Eve. The extra work takes a heavy toll on her, but there’s something—or someone—else making it an even more eventful season for her.
A/N: This is a submission for the 2022 SPN Christmas Bingo (@spnchristmasbingo​). As always, thank you for reading, liking, commenting, and supporting me in so many ways. I hope everyone has a safe, happy, and healthy holiday season with their loved ones! Dividers by @firefly-graphics​
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The village always bustled with activity as you neared the winter solstice, but this year even more so. The prince’s coronation was scheduled for Christmas Eve, which meant in addition to the usual preparations, everyone was getting ready for what was promised to be the grandest event the castle had ever had. Even you were mildly excited for what was to come, and normally you hated your job in the kitchens. 
“Y/N! Where did you put those eggs, girl?”
You sighed as you kneaded the dough on the table in front of you. The head baker had given you the task of making the braided loaves for the castle’s coronation feast. They were one of the traditional dishes that the prince had requested, so they had to be perfect. You’d been mixing, kneading, braiding, and baking from sunup to sundown most days, and when you weren’t working by the ovens, you were out gathering more supplies. She’d sent you to get eggs from Farmer Mills that morning and for milk from Farmer Singer the morning prior. No matter what you did, no matter how hard you worked, it never seemed to be enough. It felt like she’d been harping on you and critiquing your baking every second of every day. You were deciding between throwing something at her or crying. Maybe both.
“They’re with the butter, ma’am,” you called back, holding in the retort you wanted to tack onto the end. Her shrill voice was like a knife and you’d been on the verge of a blinding headache for three hours now. It wouldn’t be long before you’d need to beg her to send you home to rest. She probably wouldn’t agree.
“Are you daft? Come here!”
You winced, pausing mid-knead. That wasn’t a good sign. Slowly, you wiped your hands on the apron tied over your shift and made your way around the other long table. The head baker was in the back room, and as you passed by the other kitchen girls, they all gave you pitying looks of various degrees. You were the newest in the castle, having just started a few months ago after seeking refuge from a neighboring kingdom, which meant you got the brunt of all her anger and stress. Unfortunately for you, her anger and stress were at an all-time high given the upcoming feasts.
“Ma’am?” you asked, standing in the doorway to the makeshift storeroom.
“Come here,” she ordered, and you obediently stepped closer. “Where are the eggs?”
Turning towards where you’d set down the basket, you said, “They are—” You stopped mid-sentence. The basket had disappeared, as had the eggs. “They were there, Ma’am, I promise you. I put them next to the butter as soon as I got back.”
“Well, they’re not there now, wench, so what will you do now?”
You swallowed thickly, tears welling in your eyes. You’d be punished for this. “I’ll go to Farmer Mills’ straightway and fetch more, ma’am.”
“That’ll be comin’ out of your pay. Give me your hand.”
The head baker reached for her whip and struck it across your knuckles as soon as you’d extended your arm. Knowing better than to cry out, you bit down on your tongue and squeezed your eyes shut right as the whip lashed across the back of your hand again. Your skin felt warm where the blood welled up.
Three more lashes and you were free. You darted out of the storeroom and grabbed your cloak from the peg on the wall, wrapping it around your shoulders as quickly as you could. One of the other kitchen girls, Anna, was waiting for you by the door. She wrapped a clean cloth around your hand without a word, then slipped a few coins into the pocket of your apron. When you opened your mouth to protest, she shook her head and gently nudged you out of the kitchen and into the bitter cold.
You took the shortest route from the castle to the farm on the edge of the castle village. Jody’s family had farmed the land for decades. The land had been in her husband’s family since he was a young boy, and you’d become friends with her shortly after they’d married. She was kind and she always made sure you had the best. You hoped now that your friendship would help you procure the eggs you needed during the busiest time of year.
The streets were fairly empty for noontime, but you stuck to the edges of the paths, leaving room for the tradesmen and their wives, the knights, and the ladies that milled about, looking for someone upon which to bestow their Christmas generosity. Boughs of holly decorated the windows and their sills, and the red berries stuck amongst them added festive cheer to the otherwise dreary winter. Candles were already burning in the windows in an attempt to ward off the gray-tinged darkness that threatened each precious minute of daylight until the solstice. The coming winter promised to be a harsh one, but the hope of the evergreens loosened the tight knot of fear in your chest. Christmas was coming, and with it there would be rest and time for celebrations of your own. You’d never attended a servant’s dinner, and Sam would be a king. You knew that to be intimately true, more so than most, especially in the depths of the kitchens.
“My lady?”
A hand on your arm made you turn, and you almost stumbled when you met familiar eyes.
“Samuel,” you murmured, immediately smiling wide. Your cheeks felt warm even despite the cold and you glanced around, hoping no one would notice you talking to him.
He was dressed plainly, in a gray wool cloak drawn up over his head and tied securely around his shoulders, a long brown tunic that you were certain you’d seen before in the squire’s closet, and a pair of leather boots. Sam looked every part a common man, and your heart swelled with giddiness.
“What are you doing here? Someone could see you!” you whispered, though you couldn’t stop smiling. You pulled him under the eaves of a cobbler’s shop, out of the snow and away from prying eyes. The cobbler was deaf, and after you acknowledged him with a polite wave, he went back to his work.
“I was tending to my horse when I saw you leave. I have something for you,” Sam replied. He smiled down at you, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners. A thrill went through you when his hands brushed yours as he placed a parchment-wrapped bundle into your hands. He didn’t seem to notice your bandage, nor did he see the blood that had soaked through it.
“I don’t have anything for you.”
He shook his head, still smiling. “Open it.”
Hesitant, you began to carefully unwrap the brown parchment. It fell to the ground and was instantly soaked with snow, but you could only gasp and marvel at the fabric in your hands. The dress shimmered in the winter sun, sparkling as the weak light hit it. You’d never seen something so beautiful, and you’d certainly never owned anything like it. The fabric felt lighter than air and as you ran your fingers over it, you held your breath, just in case you might blow it away. Certainly, none of the other kitchen maids or servant girls owned something like this. Not even the finest lady in all of Lawrence owned a dress as beautiful. You weren’t even sure if the royals in your home country had even seen something so fine.
“Samuel,” you finally murmured, and you regarded him with wide eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. “I can’t accept this.”
“Of course you can, my love.”
His words warmed you from the inside out and you ducked your head, hiding the bashful smile he always pulled from you. “I have no place to wear a dress like this, and Ma’am will surely find out…”
“Come to my coronation.”
Your head snapped up and the smile fell at the seriousness of his request. “What?”
“Come to my coronation,” he repeated. Sam reached out and brushed hair behind your ear. His touch was warm, a welcome relief from the winter chill, but you were too shocked to register it.
“I can’t,” you told him. “It’s not proper for a kitchen maid to attend a royal event of any kind. It’s forbidden. If I did, Ma’am would—”
“It’s my coronation. Nothing is forbidden if I say it isn’t, and I want you there.”
You looked away and stared at the feet of the horses as several knights rode by. Their hooves kicked up dirty slush and pebbles, spewing them over your shoes and Sam’s boots. Sam looked the opposite way, subtly using the hood of his cloak to shield his face from the men. After they’d gone, you didn’t turn towards him again, but you could feel Sam staring at you.
“I love you, Y/N,” he said, his voice barely audible over the cheerful calls of men and women loitering in the street. “And once I am king, we can be together. There will be no law to stop us.”
“But there is a law now, and I’m bound to keep it, as are you,” you replied. You pushed the dress into his grasp and stepped just out of his reach, drawing your own cloak closer around you. The wind ruffled your shift and apron and Sam’s hair fluttered in front of his face as he stared down at you with hurt in his eyes.
“Do you not trust me to take care of you?”
“Of course I do, my King.” You bowed your head slightly, silently willing away the lump in your throat.
“Y/N—”
You stepped back again, almost tripping over a pile of firewood. Sidestepping, you lifted your head just enough to meet his gaze for a brief moment. “I’m sorry, Samuel. I must go.”
His flickered to your bandaged hand when you reached up to adjust your hood once more, and your breath caught in your throat when he blocked your path and tenderly grasped your wrist with one hand.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Nothing,” you replied, shaking your head. You kept your eyes down, hoping he wouldn’t see the lie in them, but he hooked a finger underneath your chin and gently guided you to look upward.
“It’s not nothing to me. You’re hurt.”
Your lower lip trembled as you held his gaze, until finally he dropped his hand and you could avert your eyes again. “I cut myself while I was helping cut vegetables. It was a clumsy mistake.”
Sam stood for a moment before he said, “You work in the bakery. Do not think so little of me that I do not know your trade. Tell me the truth, Y/N.”
“Is that an order?”
Even without looking, you felt him tense beside you.
“It’s a request,” he quietly answered. “Tell me the truth, my love.”
His words cut deep into your heart, expertly carving out the softest parts of you and extracting them from the walls you’d built. Sam knew how to get past your every defense in just a moment’s time, and a tear rolled down your cheek as you stared down at the muddy, snow-mottled ground.
“The eggs I fetched for Ma’am this morning went missing. She believed it to be my fault, and I was punished.”
“Punished?” Sam repeated, and you slowly nodded. “Show me, I beg of you,” he added.
You knew that he was no stranger to blood or injury, but the shame you felt while unwrapping your hand was like salt in your wounds. Sam would never understand what your life was like, not now in the kitchens and certainly not before you’d escaped your homeland to come to Lawrence. Accepting punishments you didn’t deserve came easily to you, and the scar that would form across the back of your hand would only be one of many that littered your skin.
Sam took your hand in his once the bandage was removed. He held it gingerly, cradled between his own gentle palms, as he inspected the lashes. They were precise and though the blood had crusted over and dirtied your skin, you knew that underneath the mess, the four lashes stood like tallies across your knuckles and hand. Four identical scars would form, a constant reminder to you and others of your supposed blunder. You’d be forever marked by your inabilities.
“You should see a doctor” Sam finally said, and you pulled your hand away.
“I’ll heal fine enough on my own,” you argued. Before he could say anything more, you wrapped the bandage back around your hand and tucked it underneath your cloak, out of sight. “I truly must go now. If I don’t return with the eggs…”
“Let me walk with you,” he insisted.
You shook your head, but Sam stepped closer, crowding your personal space. “Please, I beg of you. I’ll leave you before we near the castle upon your return. I just wish to be with you before…”
His next words went unspoken, but you heard them loud and clear.
Before I’m crowned King.
Before everything changes.
Before I’m forced to marry for the good of the kingdom.
Before you fade away from my memory.
Swallowing thickly, you looked back down at the ground and nodded. “Very well.”
Sam held out his arm. It took you a few seconds to stir up the nerve to take it, and then he was leading you toward the outskirts of the village before you could think twice. He walked in silence beside you, carefully veering you around large puddles and holes in the ground. He positioned himself between you and the busy village paths and took the brunt of the slush and mud splashing when horses rode by and when children pushed carts full of root vegetables, evergreen boughs, and firewood toward their families’ stalls. The two of you remained quiet even as you walked, and you thought it strange that Sam didn’t ask for directions to Jody’s farm, nor did he even ask the farm to which you were heading. He simply steered you along in silence.
When you finally arrived at the Mills’ farm, you removed your arm from his and gathered your skirts in one hand so you could navigate their crowded land with more ease. Chickens roamed freely in their appointed yard, as did the goats in theirs, but you knew that their son and one of the village boys wouldn’t be far off. They took good care of the animals. A loss of any could surely devastate them all.
Smoke blew from the chimney as you neared their small hut. As soon as you were within a few feet, the door swung open and Jody met your gaze, her own eyes filled with concern. You never visited midday.
“Y/N?” she asked. Once you were near enough, she ushered you inside to the waiting warmth. You immediately took your normal seat at her table, but you glanced back over your shoulder when she wasn’t there to join you. Instead, Jody stood frozen in the doorway, her eyes wide and her body tense with indecision.
“He’s a friend,” you told her, but she only continued to stare.
Jody suddenly dipped into a low curtsy, her head bowed until she could only stare at the floor. “Your Highness,” she frantically murmured. “I apologize, I did not recognize you from afar.”
From where he stood just outside the door, Sam met your eyes through the open doorway. His hood had fallen, revealing his face, and snowflakes clung to his hair. His skin was pink with cold as he gave you a sad smile, then knelt slightly to help Jody rise.
“Please,” he said, his voice soft. “I am only here to accompany Y/N.”
Silently, Jody looked between you and Sam, and you felt warmth rush to your face, though not from the heat of the fire burning in her hearth.
“Of course, please come in, Your Highness.” Jody stepped out of Sam’s way and gestured for him to sit across from you at the table. She shut the door tightly behind him, then bustled around her small home. You watched for a moment as she retrieved a second wooden cup and began to pour tea. It had been ready to drink already, and guilt as heavy as lead sank to the bottom of your stomach. Jody and her family had little as it was, and now they’d waste their precious tea on you.
Sam took the empty chair and his legs immediately crowded yours under the table. He murmured an apology, then looked around the room. Two beds had been pushed against the wall to make room for the table and chairs. A roll of blankets was tucked atop one of the hay-stuffed mattresses, and several sets of clothing hung on hooks above the second.
“I apologize for the state of my home, Your Highness,” Jody said as she carried over two cups, then placed one in front of each of you. “We make do with what we have.”
He shook his head. “You may call me Samuel. I’m nobody important here.”
Her eyes grew wide and she glanced at you, but you focused on preparing your cup of tea with the small bowl of sugar she’d somehow produced. You knew with every minute that passed you’d get in deeper trouble with the head baker. Still, you couldn’t sabotage Jody’s time with Sam with your own troubles. It was very likely she’d never see him again, just as it was likely you’d never spend this much time with him again after today.
“But Your Highness, you are always—”
“Please,” Sam insisted. “I’m only accompanying Y/N today. I needed to get away from the coronation preparations, and she agreed to show me around the village.”
Of course, you hadn’t agreed to that. You’d barely agreed to anything, and the reminder of the upcoming coronation made tears well up in your eyes.
You inhaled deeply, straightening up in your seat and willing them away. You had to focus on the task at hand. Both Sam and Jody looked over at you as you downed your tea and winced as it scalded your tongue and throat.
“I need more eggs, Jody,” you told her. “The ones I bought from you this morning have disappeared. If I do not return with more…”
You trailed off, but Jody knew what you meant. She’d managed to get you talking one day and you’d spilled the horror stories of the head baker and the punishments you and the other kitchen girls had received. She’d also heard all about the horrors of your previous home. You’d shown her the scars that came with those stories, too. The only thing she didn’t know about you was how closely you held Sam to your heart, but that was a secret you could never betray.
Sam didn’t say anything as Jody quietly excused herself to search their chicken yard for more eggs. You obeyed, sitting completely still with your empty cup cradled between your hands. The bandage kept rubbing against the healing lashes every time you moved. You tried to shift it away from them as subtly as possible, but Sam was watching you like a hawk.
“Does it bother you?” he asked.
Sighing, you turned your head to look at the flames dancing merrily in the fireplace. “Samuel…”
“I only wish for you to be comfortable, Y/N. Why will you not let me help you?”
You looked down at the cup in your hands, fidgeting with the cracked handle. It clacked against the wooden table as you carefully placed it at the edge of the table. The cups were the finest in Jody’s collection, and your stomach twisted at the thought that she might think differently of you now that she’d seen you with Sam. Would she tell the other women in the village? Or her husband? What if her son had seen you, or the other shepherd boy? If someone found out that you’d been consorting with the prince unchaperoned, you’d be done for.
“I can’t,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I can’t get accustomed to your help. Soon enough you will be the king and I…”
“You will be my queen,” Sam fervently replied.
Shaking your head, you rose from your seat. The door swung open before Sam could speak up or join you. 
“I believe this will be enough,” Jody said. The basket in her hand was only half full of eggs, but your chest swelled with relief and gratitude nonetheless.
“It will have to make do,” you told her as you dug the coins from the pocket of your apron. “Will this be enough?”
Sam stood and you glanced over at him. His expression was unreadable, but then he nodded slightly, and you quickly looked back at Jody. It only took you a moment to realize that he’d been negotiating on your behalf.
You gripped his arm, digging your nails in until he looked over at you. He kept his expression neutral even as he turned his back on Jody to shield you from her curious eyes.
“You can’t,” you hissed at him. “They’ll ask why you’re paying her money. They’ll find out about us.”
His head shake was small, but not unnoticeable. “Dean won’t tell.”
If Dean knew, then there was no doubt in your mind that Sam had told others about your trysts, and your stomach twisted at the thought. You stepped away, staring at him for a moment longer, then turned and took the basket from Jody, who still stood by the door.
“Thank you, Jody. I’ll see you soon.”
With that, you stepped back out into the cold midday air and started making your way back toward the castle. If anyone had stopped to ask you, you would’ve told them the tears in your eyes were from the cold.
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The head baker’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard and you hadn’t even made it to the actual feast yet. She’d ordered you and the rest of the kitchen girls to be working three hours earlier than normal, long before the sun even rose on Christmas Eve, and the upstairs servants had told you that the guests were talking about a feast that stretched long into the night. According to Lady Charlie’s handmaiden, most of the visiting royals planned to celebrate until the priests came for the midnight blessing. After that, there would be Christmas feasts tomorrow morning, afternoon, and evening, allowing everyone to celebrate. The leftovers would be taken to the villagers, and then there was the servant’s dinner to prepare for. You were exhausted. Between the extra work in the kitchens and the mental and emotional strain of avoiding Sam at any and all costs, you’d barely had time to catch your breath, let alone sleep or eat.
“Y/N, are you well?”
You glanced over and forced a small smile in Anna’s direction, though you never truly met her eyes. Your brain and hands were focused on the lump of dough sat on the table in front of you. Ever since leaving him at the Mills’ farm, you’d thought of little else besides how Sam could approach you next. He’d always teased you about getting bold and visiting you in the kitchens while you were working, but the very thought of that struck fear into your bones. If the head baker, or anyone, really, discovered your relationship with him, you’d be hung.
“You look pale, and tired. Maybe you should rest.”
You shook your head and tried to muster a little bit more life into your tired body. “I’m fine, Anna. Truly.”
When you looked up at her, she was turned toward you but her gaze was focused on the doorway leading to the castle courtyard. All day long, pages and servants from the neighboring kingdoms had been arriving to serve their own dignitaries, so when you turned to see what she was looking at, you’d expected an exhausted young boy or girl, looking lost and very, very hungry. What you hadn’t expected was Sam.
Sam, dressed in navy velvet, a gold circlet atop his head, and a gold chain resting on his chest. Sam, with shining black boots and his sword tucked neatly against his hip. Sam, with his hair shining in the light from the candles and his eyes focused solely on you.
“Y/N,” he began, and you swallowed thickly, your fingers digging into the dough in front of you. Your legs trembled and you had to lean against the table for support. He stepped through the doorway, ducking down to avoid knocking his head, and slowly approached the table where you and Anna worked.
“I cannot do this without you by my side. It would be wrong for the woman I love to be absent from this part of my life. I beseech thee, with every part of myself, to join me.”
He held out his hand as he stopped a few feet from the table. You couldn’t tear your eyes away and you licked your lips, trying to come up with a suitable response. When notching came, all you could do was gape at him and shake your head.
“Sam, I— I cannot be with you.”
“Yes, you can,” he gently argued. “You will not be punished. You are committing no wrong.”
You closed your mouth and quickly shook your head, glancing over at Anna as you continued to grip the table through the bread dough. It would no doubt have to be thrown out after your mistreatment. No good loaves could come of it now, just as no good would come to you after Sam departed. You were utterly and truly ruined.
“And what’s this? Why aren’t you— Your Highness!”
Whirling around, you stared in shock as the head baker collapsed into a low curtsy. It only took a second before Anna had collected herself enough to do the same. Only you and Sam remained standing, but he was still focused solely on you.
“I cannot,” you croaked, shaking your head. You tried again, more urgently this time. “You need to go, Your Highness. Please.”
Against your better judgment, your eyes flickered down to the scars on your hand. The head baker would surely whip you again for this. When you noticed Sam looking down as well, you hurried to tug the sleeve of your dress down to cover them, but it was too late. His eyes caught the movement and his eyes darkened slightly at the scars, then even further when he saw the whip coiled on its wall hook behind you. Ma’am had left it there as a reminder of what would happen if you or the other workers slacked on your tasks for the coronation or the Christmas feasts.
Sam dropped his hand back down to his side and his other came to rest on the hilt of his sword. He walked around the table, approaching the head backer, who still lay prone on the dirty kitchen floor.
“Are you the mistress here?” he asked. His voice had changed and you shuddered at the formality of it. With you, Sam spoke softly, gently, and with all the earnestness he could muster. Now, his words dripped with displeasure.
Silently, Anna rose and helped you over to sit on a nearby barrel of brined fish. It hadn’t quite made it to the storehouses before everyone grew busy. The smell of the fish was overpowering and it had been all day, but you barely made it to the barrel before you stumbled over your own feet. Sitting in the stink would have to do.
“Yes, Your Highness,” Ma’am whimpered.
You closed your eyes, holding your breath even as your lungs burned. You couldn’t bear to watch Sam fulfill the part of his job you knew he hated. Yes, people far and wide respected him for his level head and for being a fair and just ruler in his father’s stead, but he was also Lawrence’s judge, jury, and, when absolutely necessary, executioner.
“Then I command you to treat your workers with the grace they deserve in my kingdom. This will be your one and only warning.” Sam paused. “My father would not be so kind. You are lucky that I will hold this discovery close. I will be watching you well.”
Ma’am whimpered again, her words unintelligible as Sam backed away and scanned the room for you. Once he found you sitting beside Anna, who’d stood tensely by your side throughout the whole exchange, his face softened.
“What must I do to convince you?” he asked.
You looked down at your hands, ignoring when Anna’s grip on your arm tightened at the sound of Sam’s voice directed toward you. 
“Samuel… I’m but a servant. What we had needs to end now that you are becoming king. You must marry for the good of the kingdom, even if it is not what you desire.”
“You sound like my father,” he replied, a hint of humor in his voice.
His footsteps were soft as he crossed the room, stepping over the baker. His sword bumped against the leg of the table when he stopped a few feet away from you and Anna.
“May he rest in peace. He was a wise king, and you will be too,” you added.
“I will be even better with you by my side, Y/N. I love you, and I always will. You cannot ask me to try and give my heart to another, not when it will always be with you.”
Tears made your vision blurry until you finally looked up at him. His expression was pained as he waited for you to reply. When Anna gripped your arm even tighter, unable to stand the silence any longer, you shook your head.
“And what of your people? They will speak ill of me. Will you be able to handle that?”
“No one will—”
“They will,” you interrupted, giving him a sad smile. You sniffled and patted Anna’s hand to signal her that she could let go. When she did, you carefully stood from the barrel, but you didn’t move away from it. “They will, my love, and you cannot punish them for it. They will be jealous and confused and angry that you chose someone so unworthy of your love, but fighting against their venom will only make it worse.”
Sam fell silent as he searched your face. Finally, he answered, “Are you accepting me, then? Will you stand beside me today, and every day after?”
After a moment, you nodded and offered him a small smile. “Yes, Samuel.”
Beside you, Anna laughed in pure relief, and you glanced over at her. She tried to muffle it, but you began to laugh as well. Sam surged forward and took your hand in his, making you look back at him. He dipped low to press a kiss to the back of your uninjured hand.
“I believe there is even a dress waiting for you, my lady,” he said.
You laughed a little more then, and when Sam took your hand to lead you out of the kitchens and up into the castle, you didn’t resist. Instead, you turned to wave at Anna. When she called after you in hopes that you’d come visit her in the days to come, you nodded fervently. You’d never forget the friend she’d been to you since arriving in Lawrence, and you’d repay her kindness tenfold.
Sam led you up to the main hall of the castle, where his older brother stood waiting in similar clothes. His robes were a deep red and the circlet on his head was also gold. The sash across his chest bore the Winchester crest, and the polished hilt of his sword gleamed bright in the winter sun streaming through the windows.
“You work in the kitchens?” he asked once you and Sam had fully emerged from the staircase. 
Tentatively, you nodded and glanced over at Sam, who’d positioned himself between you and the hall, shielding you from prying eyes. A tall evergreen decorated with candles and red berries stood proudly behind Dean.
“Yes, sire,” you replied, dipping into a slight curtsy. While you were certain that he’d disregard your show of respect given Sam’s affection for you, Dean was still captain of the King’s guard and that title alone was enough to make you tremble. He held more power than most people knew.
Dean scoffed and reached out to take your other hand. He bowed and kissed over the scars. His touch was gentle and you felt your face grow warm. Being kissed by one Winchester brother was enough to make your heart race, but two? You were practically floating, and Sam chuckled knowingly when he caught your somewhat dazed expression.
“Come, my love. Dean will be the one to escort you down the aisle for the ceremony,” Sam murmured.
You blinked and looked up at him, at a loss for words. Being left to your own devices in the upper parts of the castle was a terrifying prospect, especially since Sam was the one who’d escorted you up. If you were caught without him… You’d heard horror stories of servants who’d assumed too much of themselves. You shuddered.
“You will be perfectly safe,” he reassured you. He squeezed your hand and nodded encouragingly, but your stomach still churned with nerves. 
When you glanced over at Dean, he nodded as well. “You have my word that I will not leave you, Y/N. I am sworn to my brother’s protection, and therefore I am sworn to yours,” he said.
Slowly, you forced yourself to exhale and nod in agreement. “Very well.”
“I will see you soon, Y/N,” Sam said. He dipped down and pressed a kiss to your cheek this time. The flour that clung to your skin didn’t seem to bother him, and underneath the white dust your cheeks grew warm for the umpteenth time since he’d arrived to pull you from the depths of the kitchens. Sam always seemed to be able to turn you into a lovesick young girl, but you weren’t about to complain.
Sam backed away. You watched in silence as he turned, then strode down the hallway with such purpose that the path in front of him cleared immediately. Most of the crowds you had seen entering the castle for hours were nowhere in sight, but no one in the hall stopped to bow as he passed, as they had for King John. You wondered if he’d requested such behavior or if things would change once he was crowned. Since you’d begun meeting in secret months ago, Sam had never struck you as the kind of person who demanded a person’s respect. He always earned it in his own subtle way, just as he had earned your affections. He’d snuck past all your defenses in less time than it took you to escape from your home country.
Once he’d disappeared from view, Dean lifted his arm for you to hold. You gratefully accepted and let him guide you in the direction of the masses.
“Where are we going?” you asked as you entered the main part of the grand hallway.
“To the coronation,” Dean replied. He steered you around a group of knights who had gathered along the edge of the hall.
You stumbled and gripped his arm even tighter as ice cold panic flooded your veins. “The coronation? Now? I thought it not for a few hours!”
With his other hand, Dean steadied you. He slowed his pace for a few steps, then stopped when you planted your feet in the plus golden rug, refusing to move.
“Yes,” he answered, “the coronation. Where did you think we were going?”
“I— I did not know, but I am not— I cannot go to the coronation!” you hissed at him. You glanced down at your shift and the thin leather shoes you’d been wearing for years now.
“That’s horse shit. Of course you can go. Sam’s requested your presence, Y/N. You won’t be turned—”
“Maybe not,” you argued, “but I won’t truly belong.” You pulled your arm from his. “I’m dirty. I smell like yeast and fish. I don’t know the proper way to act or the proper things to say. I can’t dance. I don’t belong here, Dean, and one man’s love cannot change that.”
He watches you for a moment before his expression softens. “I believe that is why he cares for you, Y/N.”
You stared at him, confused. In your head, there’d been lists of reasons for Sam to turn you away. There’d been an even longer set of ways that the people of Lawrence could dismiss you from the coronation, each one more humiliating than the last. How could he love your faults?
Dean gently guided you to take his arm again, then began walking toward the cathedral at the far end of the castle. “You are not of royal blood, and you were once a stranger to Lawrence, but you’re intelligent. You’re quick, and you make him happy. Not a day has gone by that he hasn’t spoken of you, and he’s mentioned no less than a thousand times how beautiful you are.”
“Truly?” you asked, and he chuckled. When you glanced over, Dean stared straight ahead, but he smiled.
“Truly.”
You stopped before a set of doors that stretched high above your head, ending in a point only inches from the lofted ceiling. The wood shined in the candlelight and you shivered as guards on either side pulled them open for you and Dean. A gust of wind blew through the cathedral, making the candle flames on the golden stands all around you dance and flicker. Rows of dignitaries inside turned at the sound of the giant doors creaking open and every bit of giddiness from Dean’s commentary drained out of your body.
“You swear that this is what Sam wants? That this isn’t a trick?” you asked, looking up at him.
Dean regarded you with a soft smile. “I swear, Y/N. I gave my word that I would protect you, did I not?”
Hesitantly, you nodded. “This is true, but—”
“Then you are safe with me. I’m the captain, and they will obey me”
You took a deep breath, then nodded again. “Very well. I’m ready.”
He dipped his head and forced his expression into a neutral one before stepping forward. You kept your eyes focused on the grand altar at the front of the cathedral as Dean led you down the center aisle. The ladies and lords on either side of you gasped and whispered as you passed. It took every fiber of your being not to turn and run the other direction, and by the time you’d reached the steps that led to the altar, you were trembling.
“You are safe,” Dean whispered. He leaned in close to you so that only you could hear. “They cannot harm you, nor will I let them try.” When you shakily exhaled and nodded in understanding, he continued, “Sam will arrive soon. After he is crowned king, you will take his arm instead of mine.”
Confused, you looked up at him just as the fanfare began. “What then?” you asked.
The twinkle in his eye made your stomach flip. “And then you will join us at the feast. Sam can have new clothes brought for you, if you would like, and you will celebrate with us. I believe he had a gown made for you especially. Did he not?”
Before you could answer, Dean straightened and lifted his fist to place it over his heart, just like the other knights did as Sam entered, but his other arm stayed in place to hold you steady. You clutched it tightly as the music continued and Sam processed down the center aisle of the cathedral. Long strands of evergreen garland marked his way. You marveled at his steadiness amid the grand procession. Children selected from the village and from royal families assisted with his robes and men in heavily decorated robes of their own carried tall, pure white candles and shining gold artifacts ahead of him.
Sam looked every bit the king you knew him to be. In the time since he’d left you in the care of his brother, Sam had donned a red sash embellished with the Winchester crest. A long navy robe trailed behind him, trimmed with white and composed of the richest velvet and fur you’d ever seen. His expression was grave and steady, though you knew his nerves hid deep down inside of him. Sam had told you how scared he was to be king. He didn’t want to let down his people or harm them in any way, but you had faith in him. All of Lawrence did, too. If they didn’t, his father wouldn’t have allowed him to be crowned king until it was absolutely necessary. Instead, John had made way for his son to take the throne at a much younger age than he had. In his last breaths, John had ordered for there to be no royal advisors or interim leaders in between his death and Sam’s ascension. It was only to be Sam leading the people, and you agreed wholeheartedly.
The ceremony passed quicker than you’d expected, and soon Dean was leading you across the dais to where Sam stood, newly crowned. He looked out over the visiting lords and ladies with the same serious expression as before, but when he turned to look at you, the sun shone through the stained glass in the massive basilica. You couldn’t help but smile back as he took your hand in his, bowed, and kissed the back of it. The gasps from the gathered crowd were but background noise as Sam lifted his head just enough to catch your eyes from below.
“My King,” you greeted. Your cheeks ached from the intensity of your own smile, but you couldn’t stop. The sun shone down upon you, casting colored shapes across Sam’s face and the robes that swirled around his feet like dark ocean waves.
“My heart,” he answered.
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Thank you for reading! <3
If you liked this story, please reblog! That is the best way to share your love for my work and to spread it so that other people can enjoy this story. If you would like to support me further, please consider supporting my writing by donating on Ko-fi, supporting me on Patreon, or commissioning a story of your own!
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Text
The Girlfriend Who Remade Christmas ~ Master Post
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Summary: Dean’s holiday spirit is nowhere to be found. Fed up with his Grinch-like behavior, Nicole is determined to open his heart again to the wonders of the world around them and help him find joy in the Christmas season.
Pairing: Dean x Nicole/Nico/Nic {OFC} (Established Relationship)
Warnings: Fluff; Angst; Flirting-lots of flirting (sometimes sexually suggestive); Implied smut; Language (not too over the top); A bit of canon divergence
Share in Dean and Nic's journey. Visit The Road So Far Travel Map.
*Photos were taken by me or downloaded from Creative Commons sites Pixabay and Unsplash.*
Word Count: TBD ~ chapter length will vary greatly.
Beta(s): @princessmisery666 and @wayward-and-worn
Credit: The stunning title cards and dividers were made by @talesmaniac89. I love them so much!!
Author’s Notes: A sixteen-part series based on my SPN Christmas bingo card. Each square will tie into an overarching storyline. I will tag my Love Me Some Pie tag list (tagged for all Dean-centric fics). Let me know if you would like to be added. Fic titles are lyrics from songs that apply specifically to the square prompt or spirit of the story for that square. 
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Part One ~ A Bad Banana
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Part Two ~ See What the Time's Done
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Part Three ~ Hail the New
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Part Four ~ Sweetest Things
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Part Five ~ Let Me Show You
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Part Six ~ Take the Freeway Down
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Part Seven ~ We Three Kings of Everything, Jack and Johnny, and Jim Beam
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Part Eight ~ Fancy Ties n' Granny's Pies
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Part Nine ~ A Babe So Dear
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Love Me Some Pie tag list:
@123passwort // @akshi8278 // @asgoodasdancingqueen // @calaofnoldor // @compresshischest09 // @deaneverafter // @deans-baby-momma // @deans-spinster-witch // @deanwanddamons // @globetrotter28 // @iamsapphine // @idreamofplaid // @impala-dreamer // @iprobablyshipit91 // @irgendwas122 // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt // @justagirlinafandomworld // @justrealizedimmascifygurl // @ladysparkles78 // @lyarr24 // @mimaria420 // @mrswhozeewhatsis // @musicissmylife // @mvdeanw // @pallographsunspot // @princessmisery666 // @raisinggray // @shawnie74 // @thinkinghardhardlythinking // @thoughts-and-funnies // @waynes-multiverse // @wayward-and-worn // @waywardbaby // @weepingwillowphoenix // @yvonneeeee
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Alone
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Pics from Pinterest | Divider from @firefly-graphics
Title: Alone Summary: You missed your Christmas date with your boyfriend to be on your own.  Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader eventually Squares filled: Alone at Christmas for  @spnchristmasbingo // Dean’s Flannel for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo // Free Space for @badbitchesbingo //  Warnings: Fluff, Christmas day, lazy day. Word Count: 324
| Masterlist | SPN Masterlist |
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It was Christmas morning, and you were still in your pajamas. You were supposed to be driving to your boyfriend’s house to spend the holidays together, but when you woke up, you weren’t feeling the greatest emotionally, you wanted to be alone, you needed to be alone. 
You first put your phone in silence, then grab your boyfriend’s favorite flannel and your comfiest blanket for special occasions.
It was going to be a lazy day.
You grabbed the cookie container you had prepared to take to your boyfriend's, a mug of hot chocolate, set up a movie and got ready to spend a lazy day on your couch watching movies on Christmas day.
You should've told Dean that you weren't attending, but he was going to ask for explanations and you didn't have any, you just felt the need of being alone.
At some point you fell asleep because now that you were walking up, the sun was settling in and the weather was getting colder.
It was time to check your phone, and as you expected, you had too many text messages and missing calls from Dean. He was probably worried.You texted a quick "I'm fine. Happy holidays 💖" and put your phone down again.
Tired of Christmas movies, you put on a rerun of one of your favorite tv shows when you heard someone clearing their throat.
"You look better than me in that flannel, sweetheart," Dean said with his gentle voice.
"Hi babe," you greeted him stretching out from the back of the couch to peck his lips, "I'm sorry about today "
Dean shook his head and placed a kiss on your forehead, "you should've told me that you need this. I would've joined you"
"I needed to be alone. I'm sorry " you apologized hugging him.
"We still have some Christmas time and hot chocolate ready, let's finish this day together." He said, and then kissed you stealing your breath.
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Tag List is OPEN (DM or Link in Navigation Post)
Everything Tag List @iguessweallcrazyithinktho | @mrspeacem1nusone | @thevelvetseries | @caplanbuckybarnes | @vivalaluciforever | @maliburenee | @alexxavicry | @foxyjwls007 | @thoughts-and-funnies | 
Supernatural Tag List @wonderfulworldofwinchester​ | @nancymcl​ | @leigh70​ |
Dean / Jensen Tag List @akshi8278​ | @sexyvixen7​ |@larrem88​ | @lyarr24​ | 
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holylulusworld · 2 years
Text
Irresistible Scent - Kinktober (1)
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Summary: Your scent is irresistable to him.
Rating: Explicit
Kinktober Special: Marking Kink
Square 14 filled for @spnkinkbingo​: Breeding Kink
Square 5 filled for @spnabobingo​: Breeding
Square 3 filled for @afgomegaversebingo​: Mate-Inducted Rut
Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader
Warnings: language, a/b/o, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, breeding kink, marking kink, marking with cum/and scent, mating bites, knotting, scenting, true mates, there is some fluff too, a little angst, implied smut, implied oral, possessive Dean
Words: 1,5+ k
A/N: Here we go. Kinktober is here. 
Kinktober 2022
2022 SPN KINK BINGO masterlist
2022 SPN A/B/O BINGO masterlist
AFG Omegaverse Bingo masterlist
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That scent.
That irresistible scent makes him crawl up the walls. He can’t fight it. Can’t breathe. Can’t think. Can’t resist.
You are luring the alpha in. Even though, he promised himself to never give in to his alpha. You are his brother’s best friend. The little sister they never had. His friend. His confident.
But you are so much more…
You are his true mate. The one making him want to have more than the life he has. You make him dream of something more. Something he cannot have, but desires, nonetheless. 
“Omega,” a soft and throaty purr leaves his lips. A stark contrast to the things his lust-clouded mind imagines right now. He balls his hand into fists. His teeth grit and his whole body feels like it’s on fire. “Fuck.”
Dean can’t help it. He slowly trots toward the door to leave his room. If he’s fast enough, he can sit this unexpected rut out before you even realized he’s gone. 
“I need to get the fuck out of here,” he groans as your scent just got stronger. “No-fuck…ngh…”
“Dean?” fuck. The worst case just happened. Not only did Dean not make it out of the bunker, but you also walked right in on him as he tried to escape your scent and his instinct. “Shit, what’s wrong…”
You softly call out Dean’s name, but he looks like he’s in trance. He only stares at you, as his teeth grit and his nostrils flare.
“OMEGA,” he growls rather than speaking. You take a step back, already smelling the rut on Dean. “My omega. Come here.”
“Dean, how come you are in rut?” you squeak as the alpha pounces on you. “Dean. What’s wrong? You just had your rut.”
“Your scent drives me crazy,” you pant heavily as Dean buries his face in your neck to inhale your scent deeply. “I want you to smell like me. You must smell like me.”
“O-kay,” it doesn’t take much to get you in his arms. You simply give in to your omega and your feelings. Dean was the one not wanting to give in. You lost the battle a long time ago. 
The moment you met the cocky alpha for the first time.
He purrs against you, hands pawing at the flannel you stole from Dean. “You’re mine. Only mine.”
“I’m yours,” you’re a panting mess. Dean’s scent. The way he purrs your name, and the fact that you can feel his erection press against your thigh turns you into a puddle. “Only yours.”
Dean is nuzzling you, all the while rubbing his aching cock against your thigh.
“Can we go to your room and not do this here?” you nervously laugh. 
Sam is somewhere at the bunker, and you don’t want him to walk in on you and his brother making out like horny teens.
“My room. Safe. My omega,” you don’t fight Dean when he easily picks you up in bridal style to carry you inside his room. “Mine…”
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Scent. Mine. Breed. Mark. Dean’s mind is filled with you.
“Dean, fuck,” you end up pressed face first against the door the moment he slammed it shut.
He’s on you in a blink and rips your panties off of your body. Dean presses his body to yours and slides his hands over your chest, groping your plush flesh.
“Mine,” his hands wander down to your hips, gripping you tightly to press your ass into his crotch. You can feel his throbbing length press into your butt, and you hope, he won’t lose control. 
He’s slowly going down on his knees, hands moving over your body on his way.
“DEAN?” you squeak as he buries his face between your legs to capture some of your slick. “Oh fuck! What has gotten into you? Why are you in rut?”
“YOU,” he growls against your flesh. Well, you won’t get an answer tonight. Dean is busy roaming your ass, hips, and legs with his rough hands. He’s caressing every curve, every spot until one hand becomes brave and cups your pussy. “Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me.”
“I didn’t do-“ you whimper at the feeling of his fingers toying with your swollen clit. “Shit, Dean…we can’t. You said we can never be together.”
“You triggered my fucking rut,” he purrs while slipping two fingers inside of your cunt. Pumping his thick fingers in and out of your dripping pussy, Dean groans deeply. “You’re going to smell like me. I’m going to cover you with my scent and mark this body.”
“What? I-“ his fingers slip out of you much too soon for your liking. But you won’t be empty for long. Dean gets back up and drops his sweatpants to the ground. While he cups your ass, humming as you push your butt into his big hands, you hastily take off your flanell.
“This is mine,” one hand cups one of your breasts, roughly groping your flesh as you feel his cock poke your entrance. “Fuck.” He grips your hips, forcing you to stick your ass out a little. “I gotta breed this cunt, make you round. Everyone will know this is mine.”
“Fuck!” you exclaim loudly as Dean simply drives right into you. There are no gentleness or loving words. The alpha is too far gone to care for sex etiquette. “Dean! You didn’t use protection.”
It’s no use. Dean presses the full length of his body against yours, holding you pinned to the door as he fucks up into you with long strokes. “Gonna make this cunt my home,” he breathlessly moans in your ear. “Not gonna last long.”
Dean is on the edge for too long to hold back. He wraps his arms around your body and twirls around, with you in his arms. You end up on the bed, squeaking as the alpha is still on top of you, moving like a madman. “Dean!”
“Just…fuck,” he pushes off you to help you get on your hands and knees. You huff, as he barely gives you the time to take a breath before he grips your hips and fills you again.
The alpha roughly slams his hips into your ass, creating a squelching sound every time he enters your slicked pussy. 
You grip the bedsheets, hoping he won’t fulfill his promise and get you full of pups as he gets even faster.
Your body seizes up and you choke out a moan as the unavoidable happens. You gush all over his cock, making Dean growl in delight.
“That’s it, omega,” you whimper as your presentation leaves his lips and his hands gently move all over your back, sides and thighs. “You’re taking me so well. Fuck…I’m gonna…”
Before you can come down from your high you get pressed into the mattress again.
It’s a mess. You’re a mess as Dean mounts you from behind, moving his hips at a pace making you gasp and squeak. 
He doesn’t stop. Not when you tilt your head in submission. Not when his teeth sink in your mating gland to claim you. Not even when his knot pops open to lock you together.
“Dean, I can’t,” you whimper underneath Dean. It’s too much. His sudden change of mind. The intimacy. The bond forming. “Dean…”
“I’ve got you, sweetheart…I’ve got you…”
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“Fuck, no,” you whimper and whine as Dean just covered you in his cum. 
After the first time he knotted you, you tried to have a shower. Only for the alpha to be all over you again. He threatened to breed you again and you tried to convince him to pull out.
“What?” he purrs as your ass, back, legs, and pussy are covered in his spunk. “You wanted me to pull out. Hmm…yeah. Now you smell like me all the time. You’ll not get me off your skin anytime soon.”
“I’ll just wash it off,” Dean growls now. His arms wrap around your body to keep you from getting under the spray. “DEAN!”
“No-no! You will show everyone that I marked you. Not only your neck and pussy, all of you,” his alpha hindbrain tells him to make sure every alpha crossing your path will stay away from you. “You’re mine.”
“I’m wearing your mark,” he hums, but still holds you in his arms, smearing his cum all over your body and his chest. “Dean, I can’t walk around covered in cum. It’s sticky and…uh…you know. I don’t want them to know what we do in private.”
“Aw, now my omega is shy,” Dean purrs in your neck. “I let you shower if you admit that you want me to mark you some more. Maybe I can leave a mark on your pussy too.”
He reluctantly releases you. Dean watches you turn around, quirking a brow as his eyes drop to your cunt. “Dean! You can’t bite me down there!”
“I can…and will,” you walk backward until your back hits the cool tile wall. “Spread those pretty legs. I’m gonna leave my mark right now…”
He goes on his knees, smirking as you let him hook one leg over his shoulder.
“Fuck, Dean…”
Dean won’t bite you. No. He will leave a different kind of mark. He will take you apart with his mouth until your pussy knows, she belongs only to him…
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Tags in reblog.
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